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safarigirlsp · 2 months ago

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Never Whistle in the Woods

Flip Zimmerman x OC

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Horror. Violence. Monster Action. Cryptids. Creepy things that happen in the woods. Backcountry flavor. Just a nice getaway with Flip. Those never go according to plan. I’m willing to continue this and write more if people like it!

Note: Going forward, I'm going to write characters from now on instead of Readers just because it's really annoying trying to switch back and forth for the non-fic writing I do. However, the female characters will be totally physically vague aside from having a name, so they can still easily be read as an insert by anyone who chooses to insert themselves.

Based on two requests I combined then butchered from rynwritestuff and @lumberjack00fantasies

AO3 Link

One of Flip’s favorite things was spending a secluded weekend out at his cabin, nestled in the forested mountains, away from the noise and mayhem of town. And away from people. Nothing cured a man’s love of humanity better than working with them. He enjoyed having a beer and a burger with his friends after work and he enjoyed taking his girl out to dinner. But he liked it a helluva lot more to take her with him into the mountains and not see or hear from another person for a couple days. Actually, it had become his favorite thing.

Knowing this, his girl, Kate, had booked him a nice getaway right up his alley. A solid week squirreled away in a truly remote cabin about as far away from humanity as he could get. It had taken a little online spelunking for her to land on the small town of Kitwanga, British Columbia, but its selling points of having a population of less than five-hundred, being a prime location for hunting and fishing, and being a true gateway to the wilderness with scarcely an outpost North between the little town and the Yukon, had sealed the deal. Besides, for the shrewd outdoorsman who wanted a less touristy experience with a friendlier populace for about a third of the money, British Columbia was a superior option to Alaska with all the same appeal.

Over-the-counter hunting licenses were available for all sorts of game that required a lottery draw or exorbitant fee in the States. Flip laughed when he read in the game regulations that it was strictly prohibited to shoot Bigfoot and that, should a sportsman encounter him, he was to be considered a protected species.

“How many big, hairy Canadians do you reckon had to get shot in the ass before they added that regulation?” He grinned at Kate, sitting with her legs curled under her on the seat of his rented truck as they bounced down the terrible excuse for a dirt road, sloshing in the mud and hitting potholes by the hundreds. Flip had twice hit his head on the bolt of the rifle secured in the headache rack above his head on the ceiling of the truck’s cab. He would have left the rifle inside their cabin, but they had been stringently warned not to take a step outside without it. Bears were a real threat and the animals here had little experience with humans, which meant little fear of them.

“Sounds like you better watch your own ass if you’re out wandering around in low light,” she teased back. “You’re big and lumbering enough to be mistaken for Bigfoot.”

“Yeah, but I’m a lot better lookin,’” he winked at her as he pulled into the only gas station in the tiny town. He filled up every day on their return in case the owner decided to take a day off. Electric pumps were a novelty that hadn’t reached this far north, it seemed. He was in a teasing mood, returning from a day of hiking and, as he put it, takin’ pictures of every goddamn thing in Canada.

“Depends on who you ask,” Kate laughed warmly. “I’ve waged a losing battle for quite a while trying to convince my friends you’re handsome. They tell me I’m blind or brainwashed.”

Five businesses in the tiny town were booming, frequented by most if not all of its citizens on a regular basis: the grocery store, post office, church, bar, and the gas station. Actually, Kitwanga boasted two bars. Flip figured this was a good insight as to the favorite pastime of the locals, especially since it doubled the churchgoers. There were no restaurants, but the bars had all the haute cuisine a man could want, so long as what he wanted was a cheeseburger or a sandwich or some chicken fried steak. However, one bar generously offered to cook anything a person brought in, provided the thing was somewhere between alive and kicking and starting to turn, and provided that gastronome paid in cash. Flip had already taken the owner and bartender up on this offer and handed over several trout he had caught that day to the owner’s wife and cook to fry for dinner. He had to admit it was some of the best fried fish he had ever had, and it paired wonderfully with the potent Moose Knuckle stout beer on tap.

The sign at the gas station read, Headed north? Need gas? It’s now or never. Two lonely gas pumps sat on a rectangle of cement on the otherwise muddy ground – the kind of pumps a person usually only saw on postcards from the fifties, with the rounded tops and numbers for cost and gallons that ticked by on a dial like an old one-armed-bandit style slot machine. A hand-scrawled sign in the window listed the hours vaguely as open from dawn ‘til dusk. An uninformed observer could easily mistake the business for being abandoned, or even condemned, a relic lingering in a ghost town. But for the metropolis of Kitwanga, it was a thriving business. There was even another vehicle at the pumps, a ’79 Ford truck with a lift and a winch on its bumper and a fat man in overalls leaning against the bed, pumping gas.

Flip stepped out of his truck and lifted the nozzle of the gas pump with a rusty squeal. He admired the view of his girl as she trotted into the gas station to forage for supplies. A brisk wind rustled his hair, tinged with chilled moisture. Above, low clouds in a grayscale palette churned in the sky. The snowy tops of the mountains were hidden inside the clouds and rain slashed across their facades in a grey haze. The rain hadn’t yet reached the foothills where the town and Flip’s rented cabin were nestled, but fog was creeping in from the base of the mountains and off a nearby river. Between the thunderclouds and the fog, it was as if the world was slowly closing in, like the vignette on a Bogart movie narrowing in on the dramatic eyes of a starlet.

Tilting his face up into the chilly air, Flip smiled. He loved rain and thunderstorms, and found peace in their chaos. Mainly, he loved holding his girl while a storm raged outside, or having a drink with her while they sat on the porch and felt the electricity in the air, and making love to her and feeling her shudder thunderously beneath him. His smile widened as he anticipated the evening ahead.

“Storm’s comin,’” the man at the pump said to Flip as he spat a string of brown tobacco into the mud. “You here for huntin’ or fishin?’”

“I’m mostly just here to take a break from everyday bullshit,” Flip replied in a friendly tone. “But I have tags for fishing and tags for bear and moose in case one happens to wander in front of me.”

“Storms are bad for fishin,’” the man said, nodding knowingly. “But they can be good for huntin.’ Storms bring the animals down from the big mountains. Moose especially like the mist and bears like to hunt in the rain when their prey can’t hear and see ‘em as good.”

“Good to know.” Flip smiled as he replaced the nozzle and turned to go inside and pay his tab.

“That your girl?” the man asked with a suggestive nod toward the gas station.

“That she is.” Flip turned to face the man, wondering if he’d end up getting in a fist fight while on vacation.

Not taking the hint, the man whistled appreciatively.

Flip decided the rube meant it as a compliment, so he simply agreed with a “Yup,” and went into the gas station. Kate had been suspiciously long inside anyway, something that nagged at the part of his mind that was always an officer on duty.

Inside the dingy little gas station, Flip saw his girl leaning against the counter engaged in an affable conversation with the attendant behind the counter, a squat older man with a heavily lined face and long silver hair in a braid hanging over his shoulder down to his gut. Flip wandered through the store, grabbing a few items that struck his fancy, some beef jerky, chips, candy bars, and other assorted junk food. At the back of the store, a menagerie of terrible taxidermy watched him with glassy eyes. Above the beverage coolers that lined the wall hung several deer and caribou and two enormous moose. A life-size grizzly bear stood on its hind feet in a corner, frozen mid-snarl, its head a solid three feet above Flip’s. He looked at its paws that were larger than his head and vicious curling claws, longer and thicker than his fingers. Facing such a beast, the gun he had in his truck now seemed very feeble. He grabbed a six-pack of stout beer bottles and an over-sized bottle of cheap wine and took his loot to the counter to pile it alongside Kate’s items.

“Have you heard about the wendigo?” Kate asked Flip when he joined her at the counter. The lilt in her voice told him she was highly amused. “My new friend was just telling me about it.”

“Yeah, wasn’t that the name of that stripper I arrested last year for blackmailing the mayor?” Flip smirked. “Wendy-Go?”

“He’s an idiot, I’m sorry,” Kate apologized to the man behind the counter, simultaneously elbowing Flip in the ribs. “Please ignore him and continue.”

The attendant gave Flip a sideways look and continued talking to Kate in a slow, backcountry drawl, “It is said the wendigo were people once, but now they are cursed. A wendigo is born during times of famine or in the harshest winter. When men are starving to death in the cold. When a man is weak, and he chooses the black path of cannibalism over death, butchering his fellows to save himself. When a man eats the flesh of another, he takes a curse upon himself. The wendigo lives in constant starvation, its body emaciated and rotting, only growing hungrier the more it eats. Its hunger can never be sated and it becomes a crazed beast with an insatiable bloodlust.”

“Is this insatiable bloodlust specific to tourists?” Flip asked sarcastically.

“Sometimes,” the man shrugged, unbothered. “It looks to punish those with greed in their hearts. Or, depending on which stories you believe, it seeks people who are like-minded to itself to build its own tribe.” He eyed Flip narrowly. “So, if a tourist is out greedily mining or wantonly slaughtering game, then yes, the wendigo will come for him.”

“Slaughtering is one of the few things I never do wantonly,” Flip deadpanned and slapped some cash down on the counter.

“You should be careful, son,” the old man told Flip seriously. “There are many ways a man can be greedy. He can be greedy for his woman and covetous of her.” Then he shrugged again. “But these are nothing more than old tales.”

“So, you don’t believe in the wendigo?” Kate asked.

“Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind he’s real. I’ve seen a wendigo twice. He has antlers taller than a caribou and wider than a moose, teeth like a wolf, and only skull sockets for eyes. But they glow. It’s the glow I remember most,” the man said genuinely as he counted out change. “I just don’t know if he was once a man, or something that was never human at all. Maybe the people who first came here created a myth to explain the monster rather than created a mythical monster themselves.”

“Maybe it’s a convenient way to scare pretty, gullible girls.” Flip smirked at Kate. Then he returned his attention to the cashier. “Let me guess, there’s something that wards off the wendigo? A silver crucifix or whatever? I bet we can buy it right here.”

“Nothing wards off the wendigo,” the man scoffed. “And he is far older than your crucifix. Why would a forest god bow to a stranger on a cross? Fire can stall him, maybe even frighten him, but it can only buy you time.” He looked outside the window at the building storm. “Not good weather for making a fire if you need it.”

“Damn shame.” Flip shook his head and began collecting their provisions in his arms. There were no courtesy bags.

“We do have flares,” the man suggested innocently. “They burn in any kind of weather, even underwater. All the bush pilots carry them.”

“Probably inside their emergency monster-hunting kit alongside the stakes for vampires and silver bullets for werewolves,” Flip laughed. “Go ahead. Load us up with some flares. Consider it a tip for a good campfire story.”

“It’s always smart to be prepared,” the man agreed as he placed two bundles of six red flares apiece on the counter and rang them up. They looked like bundles of dynamite.

Kate took the flares because Flip’s arms were already overfilled. She thanked the attendant and turned to leave.

The old man grabbed her by the elbow, stopping her and causing Flip’s hackles to rise. He spoke seriously, “Don’t whistle when you’re out in the woods. Whistling will summon the wendigo. Sometimes people hear whistling too, before it comes for them.”

“And these people who hear the whistling before it gets them,” Flip said as he edged his body between Kate and the counter and nudged her toward the exit. “They walk out of the woods to tell their story, huh?”

*******************************************************************************************

Their log cabin for the week was almost an hour’s drive from the gas station. It wasn’t that far as the crow flies, but the road was serpentine with switchbacks as it climbed the foot of the mountains and made even slower by soupy mud. It was set deep in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees with trunks as thick as the truck’s bed. The sun set on their drive back. As it dipped below the mountainous horizon, the landscape glowed a shade of hazy purple only seen in the alpine. The clouds were the color of gunpowder and the rainy vapor was periwinkle. The spruce turned into an army of nearly black silhouettes with a light mist writhing among them as moisture rose from the damp ground as well as drizzled gently from the sky. The drifting mist made everything look as though it were moving. It gave the illusion of eldritch shapes in the trees creeping along the edges of vision and tree limbs grasping like clawed fingers as they swayed in the breeze.

Flip hit the brakes suddenly, slamming Kate forward in her seat and knocking her out of the reverie the gloaming forest had cast over her. A black shape froze in the muddy road a few yards ahead of them. Its eyes sparked cold white in the headlights and the fur on its back was raised aggressively.

“A wolf!” Flip said excitedly. “I’ve never seen one this close.”

The huge animal was coal black, its amber eyes reflecting white in the headlights in the way wolves eyes do. It stood frozen, staring down the vehicle, acting like the truck was a new creature intruding into the wolf’s territory. Something was wrong with its silhouette. Something with its mouth. It took several seconds for Kate to realize what it was. The wolf turned its head uncertainly, deciding whether it should continue on its way across the road or turn around from the metal beast with offense headlights. A dead rabbit dangled from its jaws, its legs swinging lifelessly and ears flopping limply. Its lifeless eyes glinted a dull red.

The simple reminder of nature’s brutality unnerved Kate unexpectedly and her hands felt suddenly cold. She gripped Flip’s hand, digging her nails into his palm with irrational harshness.

“Nature, red in tooth and claw,” he teased and grinned at her, but he laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Some redneck at the gas station told me that predators liked to hunt in the rain. Guess he was right.”

Night had veiled the forest with its velvety black cloak by the time they parked next to the porch of their cabin. It was silent enough to hear all the noises of the forest, from the chattering birds to the subtle rustling of deer browsing in the brush to moisture pattering lightly on the ground. A great horned owl as large as a man’s torso sat perched in a tree branch hanging near the roof of the cabin, its yellow eyes glittering like moonlight as it hooted an eerie cadence. It followed them with its yellow eyes as they unloaded the truck and carried their loot inside, its head turned almost fully backward like a creature possessed.

There was no light pollution and on a clear night, the moon and stars lit the forest bright enough to see easily. On a rainy night, moisture in the air brought out all the smells of the forest, the crisp spruce, the earthy soil, the embers in the fireplace. The cabin had no electric lines and was powered by a temperamental generator and a wood stove. A woodpile was stacked against the back of the cabin, complete with a large timber axe embedded in a nearby stump. Cell service was laughable. Flip loved everything about all of that. He was pleased it had running water, however, mainly because it would have greatly impacted his sex life if it didn’t.

Flip grilled steaks outside that night before the rain hit and they had dinner on the porch, counting lightning bolts. Then they tangled around each other in front of the fireplace, making love as the flames crackled and danced and the thunder rolled. Between dinner and fooling around several times, they finished the bottle of wine and opened another. Night fell early this far north in the autumn and the nights were long. The cabin was equipped with a tv, but it was one of those terrible old boxy things with a tiny screen and antennas. The antennas were only for show since there was no service. Instead, there was a vcr and a selection of campy nineties movies and some even campier porn. It seemed to defeat the purpose of being there to even bother with the tv. They hadn’t turned it on once.

“I’m wide awake,” Kate mused, propped up on Flip’s bare chest, looking down at him. “Let’s do something.”

“I have plenty of ideas,” Flip said huskily. “They’re all sure to wear you out.”

“We’ve tried your ideas. Several times. And I’m still far from worn out.” She smiled. “We’re here in a cabin, basically having a sleepover. Let’s play some sleepover games, the kind you play as idiot teenagers or in sororities in college.”

“I think girls have a lot wilder sleepovers than boys. And my experience with sororities is limited to sneaking in and out of them, so you’ll have to be more specific.” He ran his fingertips along her spine and kissed her throat, doing his best to interest her in another round.

“Later, you animal,” she laughed and shoved his face away while pushing herself up and off him. “You know what I mean. Sleepover games. Like Bloody Mary, or playing a Ouija Board, or the Midnight Game.”

“Packed a Ouija Board, did you?” he teased. “That would explain why your suitcase weighs fifty fuckin’ pounds.”

“I don’t think ghosts care whether or not you use a name brand.” She pinched his chest, making him flinch.

“What ghosts are you gonna find out here?” He squinted as he rubbed his chest. “The Donner Party?”

“Don’t you think they’d be fun to talk to? We can try Bloody Mary. I don’t think she has a centralized location,” she teased and pulled on her discarded pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. She threw Flip’s grey sweatpants at him. “Put that thing away or it might scare off the ghosts.”

Flip grumbled more protests under his breath, but he dressed in his sweats and a thermal henley. “How about we each stand in front of the bathroom mirror with the lights off. I’ll ask for Candyman. You ask for Bloody Mary. And we’ll have a Celebrity Death Match between vengeful ghosts?”

“You know the ghosts always get the cynics and the cocky shitheads first, right?” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest in a faux reprimand.

“Is that a rule?” Flip grinned. “I think the ghosts go for the morally corrupt woman who can’t keep her legs closed first. You’re in trouble, sugar.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” she said with finality.

“How about we play a fun game, like spin the bottle or truth or dare?” He winked at her. “I always pick dare. Do your worst.”

“I can’t imagine where a game of truth or dare with you would lead.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically.

Flip puffed his chest and stepped closer to her until their bodies were almost touching. “I have a better idea. You have some pretty big balls for a pretty little girl. Let’s see how big they really are.”

“Oh my god, Flip, if this is another ploy to explore that region further…” she laughed.

“Everything I do is some kinda means to that end.” He smirked. “But we’ll get to that later. Now, let’s go outside and whistle at the wendigo. There should be some of those sonsabitches around these parts.”

Flip went to the door and stepped into his muddy boots. He leaned against the doorframe, casually cocky, and raised an eyebrow at her in a challenge. “How ‘bout it, hot stuff?”

“I think we’d be better off trying to summon Bloody Mary than a wendigo,” Kate said hesitantly. “Plus, it will be cold out there.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” he teased. “How do you figure that trying to summon a ghost through our bathroom mirror would be safer than trying to call in a wendigo? At least a wendigo will stay outside. Besides, I know how psycho you’d get if I let another woman into our bedroom. Dead or alive. Don’t try to set me up, sweetheart.”

Rolling her eyes again, Kate pulled her coat on and slipped her phone into its pocket, feeling the bundle of flares she had absently pocketed at the gas station. There was no service, but its flashlight might come in handy outside. Grinning, Flip picked up the rifle that was leaning against the doorframe and slung it over his shoulder. Cocky though he was, he took the advice serious about the threat of bears and always having a gun on him out here in the wilderness. He held the door open for Kate and ushered her outside.

The air was thick with humidity but the rain had stopped for the moment, leaving the moisture on the air to chill their skin and turn their breath into ghostly thick fog. The porch was covered in slushy frost as bright as diamonds. Their boot prints left skeletal black outlines on the otherwise pristine frosty canvas as they descended the steps and walked into the forest that awaited them only yards away.

Flip offered Kate his arm and led her into the trees. The old growth forest felt like being inside a fairytale, surrounded by enormous tree trunks and relatively open ground at their bases. The roots of those great trees were so thirsty, they leeched most of the nutrients and left little for brush and scrub to encroach. After the rain, the ground was muddy and slick, with frost growing denser by the minute as the temperature dropped through the night.

Filling his lungs, Flip began whistling a terribly off-key tune as he walked through the woods. His casual swagger was the same as if he were taking his girl out for a stroll in the park. Kate winced when he struck a particularly loathsome note, and squinted her eyes at him, “What in the hell are you whistling?”

“Season of the Witch,” he replied, acting offended. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I like the song, I don’t appreciate what you’re doing to it,” she laughed. “We’re not going to find any wendigo if you scare them all off with that horrendous noise.”

“I don’t hear you doing any better,” he scoffed.

Mainly in an attempt to save her ears from his screeching, Kate started whistling. She teased Flip first with her best wolf whistle. Smells were heightened in the damp air but sounds were muffled. In the silence of the forest, the whistle sounded unnaturally loud. Now that Flip wasn’t making noise himself, he found himself focusing more on his surroundings. He didn’t feel right, something he couldn’t put his finger on tugged at the back of his mind. It wasn’t just that noises were muffled by the dampness in the air, but something else that he found indefinable in that moment. He told himself it was just the product of being in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar vegetation that he found unsettling. The size of trees still seemed monstrous to him, and the smell of spruce instead of the familiar smell of pine must have been unsettling to his subconscious. And it probably didn’t help that he had cultivated a little buzz drinking wine for the past few hours.

A light gust of wind blew into his face and all of his senses sparked with alarm. He froze in place, seizing Kate’s arm to silence her whistling. The unmistakable scent of a wet animal hit his nose with the force of a slap in the face. Quickly evaluating his surroundings, he unslung the rifle from his shoulder and held it across his chest in high port. It would take him less than a second to aim and fire. But the forest was close around them, visibility limited to fifteen feet or so in any direction. If the animal was a predator, a bear or a mountain lion, it could cover that distance in less than a heartbeat if it wanted. He could still see the faint glow of the cabin’s lights. They hadn’t gone far, but there was no chance of outrunning an animal back to safety.

A heavy footfall sounded inside the trees ahead of them, muffled on the wet ground but distinctive. Straining his ears, Flip thought he heard a branch being brushed aside by something passing by it. Whatever it was, it was very close ahead of them. Flip’s thoughts raced, less cohesive and more a rush of images of nightmare scenarios that he weighed in an instant. He could hide himself and Kate behind one of the huge tree trunks and hope the animal passed them by. But whatever it was had to already know of their presence. If his feeble senses could hear and smell the animal, it had no doubt smelled and heard him much sooner. In that case, he decided it was best to hold his ground and meet whatever it was head on, straight down the barrel of his rifle. That would give them the best chance. Flip would have to make his shot count, and he’d probably only get one, but it was a decent chance.

Stepping in front of Kate, Flip raised his rifle to his shoulder. He kept both eyes open, not limiting his focus to only what was past the end of his barrel, but trying to expand his senses to the full spectrum of forest in front of him. He heard a heavy breath, something panting. Closer now. Flip clicked off the safety and tightened his finger on the trigger. The hardest skill for a hunter to learn, especially when hunting game that hunted him back, is to wait long enough for a good shot but not so long as to let it get him. He wouldn’t waste his shot until he saw his target clearly and could be sure of putting the bullet where it would matter most. His hold on the gun was rock steady, his breath stalled, his eyes unblinking.

The panting grew in volume until it seemed to drum in his ears. Odd for a stalking predator. Before Flip could reconcile that, a bear burst from the trees only feet in front of him. A huge grizzly bear lumbering toward him on all fours, the top of its humped shoulders taller than Flip’s head. His finger tensed, less than a millimeter of movement was required to fire. But something was off with the bear. It was panting heavily, saliva dripping from its open mouth and fog snorting in bursts from its wet nose. The bear stopped short at the sight of the man with a gun right in front of it, clearly surprised, very unlike a predator who had been stalking the man. Flip hesitated. If he didn’t kill the bear immediately with one shot – drop it right in its tracks – it would maul them both before it died. If the bear wasn’t hunting him, it was a foolish risk to take. Grizzlies were not commonly hunting predators; they were scavengers and fishers. Most people who were mauled by grizzlies had either gotten between a mother and her cubs or a bear and its food, or they had startled it like waking a grumpy old man.

Sniffing the air, the bear looked at Flip. He was so close he could see the small particles of moisture the bear blew out of its nose along with steam when it snorted. The bear’s little round ears flicked, one turning backward to listen behind it. The bear’s eyes were wide, showing white, in a nervous gesture that was common to both man and beast. The bear looked back over its shoulder and then broke into a gallop. Flip’s rational mind told him to shoot, but his instinct prevented him. The bear altered course enough to avoid running straight into Flip. It paid him no further mind at all, instead running right by him. Flip followed it with the barrel of his rifle as it passed by him so close that a string of white saliva landed on the rifle’s blue-black barrel.

Turning around about face, Flip followed the bear with his sights until it was well past them and showed no signs of turning back around. He looked back toward the place the bear had come from, still holding the rifle to his shoulder. He didn’t look at Kate when he told her, “Walk back to the cabin. Don’t run, but go now.”

“You want me to follow the bear?” she hissed. “He ran toward the cabin. I don’t want to get near him again.”

“Follow the bear,” Flip gritted. “If a bear’s runnin’ from something, we’d best do the same. He didn’t care about us anyway. Now, move.”

Uncertainly, Kate turned and retreated toward the cabin. They hadn’t gone that far, after all. Flip backed after her, keeping his rifle aimed into the black forest from which the bear had run. A shrill scream splintered the silence, starker than a bolt of lightning. Kate shuddered and Flip ducked, hunching his shoulders like he had taken a punch. The scream shrilled for several seconds, wavering on a blood-curdling note before trailing away. It echoed around them, seeming to float on the mist.

“That’s just an elk bugling,” Flip said, trying to calm Kate. Maybe it was in fact an elk, a sickly, ravenous elk. “Keep moving, slowly.”

“I’ve never heard an elk that sounded like that.” Kate shivered against more than the chilled air. “This is starting to scare the hell out of me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take your mind off of it when we get back,” Flip tried to joke but he couldn’t muster the required lewdness, his mouth was too dry.

The howling scream burst again through the forest. It was something like an elk bugle, but more howling and rasping, with a sort of growling mingled in at the end as it trailed away. It was closer now. Flip felt as much as heard it reverberate inside his skull.

“Whatever that is, it’s not an elk.” Kate had her arms wrapped around her body, trying to prevent herself from being overtaken by tremors.

“Sure, it is,” Flip lied. “They probably just grow ‘em bigger up here.”

Kate blew out a shuddering breath, fighting to keep her steps slow and steady.

“Pick up the pace a little, darlin,’” Flip rasped.

“You said not to run,” Kate hissed.

“I didn’t say to crawl either!” Flip gritted. “This is one hell of a time for you to start listening to me.”

Instead of moving faster, Kate stopped short. So suddenly, Flip bumped into her as he walked backward. A branch snapped somewhere inside the forest. It was strangely loud. Flip realized then that the snap only sounded harsh because the forest had gone utterly silent. The hundreds of small noises from birds and insects were gone. Even the drops of water falling from tree branches seemed to have stopped. The forest felt like a living thing around them, possessed of a presence all its own. Now that presence was altered into something darker and ominous.

“What the hell are you doing?” Flip’s voice had dropped to a whisper without his conscious approval. “I said keep moving. We’re not far from the cabin.”

“Turn around.” Kate’s voice trembled.

Dropping the rifle for a moment, Flip looked back over his shoulder. His nerves must be playing tricks on his eyes. He turned fully around, holding the rifle at high port across his chest. The view of the forest that met him was foreign. It wasn’t the same forest they had walked through only minutes before. The trees were more skeletal, their grasping branches more cloying. Moss hung from the branches like the lank hair of a corpse, and the ground was spongy underfoot, as if the forest was rotting around them. Even the air smelled stale and moldy. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning illuminated the forest in patches like a stop-motion movie. Most unsettling of all, the comforting glow of the cabin lights that could be seen through the trees had vanished or been snuffed out.

“What the fuck…” Flip’s voice trailed away as he took in the strangeness of their surroundings. A burst of lightning brought the forest into focus for a gleaming second. Bizarre shapes hung in the trees like a macabre abomination of Christmas tree ornaments, figures made from twigs lashed together with sinew to form pentagrams and humanoid shapes and horned beings. Flip swallowed thickly and ignored them. “We couldn’t have gotten turned around so fast.”

“We didn’t.” Kate looked around frantically. “I could see the cabin lights, then I heard that horrible bugle and looked around for it. And then the lights were gone. They couldn’t have all gone out, not all at once.”

“Lightning must have struck the cabin,” Flip lied again. Nothing about the forest looked familiar to him now and everything about it felt wrong. “Must have shorted out the lights.” There was no reason to scare Kate more than she already was. “It’s alright, we don’t need lights for what I have in mind when we get back.”

The scent of wet dog hit Flip again on a gust of wind, yanking his attention in the direction of the odor. He saw a heap of dark fur, glistening from the spotty rain and aimed his rifle at the creature. It didn’t move. Steam rose from the furry mass. Flip noted another smell on the air, something with a coppery aftertaste that coated the roof of his mouth. He edged forward, looking at the steaming animal down the barrel of his rifle, his finger resting on the trigger, ready to fire. He recognized the beast when another bolt of lightning revealed the horror to him.

“Don’t look,” he said to Kate, but it was too late. She clasped a hand over her mouth to keep her scream from escaping.

The huge grizzly bear they had encountered minutes before lay on its side in a broken heap of matted fur. Steam spiraled into the air from its torn-open belly, its entrails protruding from the mangled tissue like uncooked sausage. The gaping wound was only minutes old. The bear’s body temperature would plummet rapidly in the frigid air and it was still warm now. Even as they stared, the steam began to abate. Hanging in the branches of the tree nearest the bear carcass were several more bizarre figures crafted from twigs.

The screeching growling bugle erupted again, very close this time. Flip nudged Kate ahead, keeping his rifle at the ready, but not knowing where to aim it.

“Which way do we go?” Her breath came in shuddering puffs of fog.

“I don’t know,” Flip admitted. “Away from here.”

Amid a stand of spruce to his side, bare tree branches swayed in the wind, their spiky fingers waving ominously. Flip hadn’t noticed the wind pick up. Looking at the oddly swaying branches, he realized there was no wind. The air had gone as still as the inside of a crypt. The strange branches were bare, glistening wet and pointed upward, still swaying.

A flash of lightning illuminated the creature and Flip flinched so hard he almost fired accidentally.

What he had taken for bare branches was a set of enormous antlers, shaped somewhere between a moose and a caribou and as large as an Irish elk, with wide paddles and long spiked tines spurting out non-typically like broken fingers. It had a dark mane like an elk with a tawny, painfully emaciated body. Flat tines of several spinal processes protruded through the hide at the top of its high withers and one hip bone showed through the skin. But its head was the most terrible of all. Its face was in an advanced stage of rot, dregs of sagging flesh barely clinging to the skull. White skull bone gleamed in exposed patches, and its sharp, lupine teeth were long in the exposed jawbone and ragged. Its nasal cavity was bare, the fleshy nose rotten away, leaving only the pointed bones and a black hollow. It had no eyes that Flip could see, but there was an evil gleam inside its sockets, like embers inside a pile of ash. The monster shook its head, slinging water from its great spiked antlers. Then it leveled its head like a bull about to charge and fixed its glowing eyes on Flip.

“Shoot it,” Kate whispered, her eyes wide with terror.

“I don’t think it’ll do any good.” Flip looked down the barrel at the rotting flesh covering the walking skeleton and white bone peeking from beneath. The monster’s glowing eyes were not something found among the living. Without lowering his rifle, he looked at Kate and met her eyes. “It’ll come for me first. I’ll make sure of that, and I’ll stall it as much as I can. Get to the truck, darlin.’ The keys are in it. Run like hell.”

“I’m not leaving you!” she said vehemently, her voice losing some fervor when the creature took an ominous step closer, its enormous antlers swaying with its gait.

She felt for her phone, hoping there might be service. Not that another human could even reach them in less than an hour, making any idea of help hopeless. Her hand closed around the lumpy bundle of flares. With an excited breath, she freed a flare from the bundle and fumbled with lighting it.

The monster bugled angrily, a sound so shrill it felt like it grated along their spines. It rushed toward them through the trees, its teeth bared and eyes aflame. Flip fired, sending a bullet right between those glowing eyes. He even saw the bullet strike and tear away more rotting flesh, leaving a pearly white hole in the skull. It didn’t slow the monster or even make it flinch. He bolted another round into the chamber on instinct, staring down the barrel at the demonic eyes that were fixed upon him.

Kate popped the cap off the flare. The cap had an abrasive tip like a matchhead and she struck it to the end of the flare, holding it high as it burst to life. With their eyes accustomed to the darkness, the flare seemed as bright as sunlight, searing black pulsing spots into their vision. The monster squealed again, shaking its head with pain or irritation. Its antlers caught in the tree branches, stalling its advance. The flare burned and popped, hot on Kate’s face even at arm’s length and blindingly bright.

The landscape around them crackled and wavered, like a tv signal trying to come in through static. The trees looked less skeletal and more normal, like they had been before, and the strange twig figures vanished. The cabin lights glowed through the trees, yellow and warm, not far from them.

“It’s in our heads!” Kate shouted. “It’s making us hallucinate, but I can see the cabin and the truck now.”

“The light bothers it,” Flip said as he reached into her coat pocket, grabbing three flares and leaving her the remaining two. The monster wrenched its antlers free of the branches where it was tangled and lurched toward them in a shambling gait.

Shouldering his rifle that was of no more use than a club against the monster, Flip bit the cap off a flare with his teeth and struck the head. He rammed the end into the muddy ground at his feet, leaving the tip burning. The beast reared, shrieking with rage and clawing the air with its cloven hooves as Flip backed away. He could see the glow of the cabin lights now too. It was hard to resist the urge to run to the light.

Flip lit the next flare. Kate was a few yards ahead of him, gaining ground toward the truck. It would take whoever reached it first a minute to start it. Flip had a good throwing arm and even better aim. The monster lunged at him, rage overriding whatever else had been driving it to pursue them so far. Flip drew back his arm, took a second to aim at the gaping black jaws, and threw the lit flare as hard as he could. The flaming tip cartwheeled through the air like a throwing knife before the fiery head struck the monster right where its nose should have been. But it had no nose, its nasal cavity was exposed in its partially skeletal head. Robin Hood could not have struck a finer bullseye. The flaming tip sank deep into the nasal cavity, embedding itself there.

Screaming terribly, the wendigo shook its head and stomped its hooves, rearing and bucking like a horse that had stepped on a hornet’s nest. It couldn’t shake the flare free from its skull. The flames spread, shooting out through holes in the rancid flesh of its cheeks and jaws. It looked as though it breathed fire when it screeched, belching flare fumes and flames out of its hacking mouth.

“We’re not gonna get a better chance than this!” Flip roared at Kate as he burst into a run toward her. She had a few paces head start on him and sprinted ahead toward the truck.

Kate reached the truck first, yanking the driver’s door open and jumping inside. Flip could bitch about her driving all he wanted, but she dared not spare the extra second or two for him to take the wheel. Not with the eldritch monster galloping toward them, bugling terribly, flames bellowing from its mouth and nose. Flip had his one remaining flare in hand when he reached the truck. The engine roared to life.

Instead of joining Kate inside the cab, Flip vaulted into the truck bed and shouted for her to drive. Kate slammed the truck into gear, throwing Flip against the side of the bed. Regaining his balance, he dropped to his knees and planted his back against the rear window, making himself as steady as he could. Kate was speeding as fast as she dared down the muddy, winding road, and it wasn’t fast enough. The wendigo pursued them, galloping after the truck and gaining ground. Striking the tip of his flare, Flip held the flaming tip aloft, casting the entire truck in a halo of searing red fire. The wendigo allowed more distance between them, smart enough to keep outside of throwing range of another flare.

Kate took a slippery curve too fast, the truck fishtailing as she recovered control, slinging Flip from one side of the bed to the other. The flare was nearly whipped from his hand, but he clenched his fist tight to keep his hold. Gritting his teeth, he composed himself, using all his strength to keep his balance and keep his arm held high. He couldn’t afford to lose a flare. They only had three flares left, and it was going to take every last burning second of each one to reach town.

*******************************************************************************************

Tagging some buddies!

#best #fic #halloween #my stuff!#my writing #flip #adventurer #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you

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kokoch4n3l · 8 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ stay in my memories ࿐ྂ “‘cause it’s still on my clothes, everything that I own and it makes me feel like dying”

summary: It's been about 10 years since you last saw him. since any of you last saw him. but tonight as you're back from the after-party of Mitsuya's show you walked, Mikey shows up at your apartment. drunk.

notes: based on memories by conan grey. lowkey a self-insert lol. please read the warnings before you read !!

warnings: mentions of past violence, mentions of past sexual relations, toxic relationships, body image issues, oc is skinny!, mentioned/implied eating issues/disorders(ARFID), mentioned and talk of weight issues, alcohol use, weapons(guns), intoxication, Mikey being the bitchass ex that comes back when you're finally healed, insensitive!mikey, not edited

pairing: bonten!mikey x model!oc

word count: 2787

Her back hits the elevator wall as it moves up stories. It’d take a while for her to get to her floor. It was right underneath the penthouse after all. She worked hard for the money so she deserved to live in a nice place like a luxury high-rise building. The penthouse was unoccupied at the time she moved in and the owner had even given her the offer of it but it was huge. The place would go to waste as she lived alone, no longer rooming with Tachibana Hinata who had moved back in with her younger brother. She sighs and stares up the ceiling of the elevator and sighs tiredly. Her body ached but not as much as her feet did in the heels she was wearing. “Fuck” she mumbles and pulls them off her feet

She rolls her ankles as she stands back up straight, holding her heels in one hand. After an obnoxiously long elevator right, she finally reaches her apartment. Typing in the code, she enters and leaves her heels on the rack and locks the door. Her apartment is empty just like it should be. She had gotten used to being alone after middle school ended and everyone was too busy with their lives. It was middle school when Tokyo Manji Gang had disbanded and although she wasn’t a part of the gang(for very obvious reasons), it felt like the world was ending. But that wasn’t the end, a meteorite had crashed down on her when Sano ‘Mikey’ Manjiro cruelly broke her heart a week after the captains buried the time capsule. She never saw him again after that. She didn’t want to. She even declined Kawargi Senju’s request to join Brahman just so she didn’t have to see Mikey. She didn’t care that all of Mikey’s old friends were trying to bring him back or whatever that meant. It wasn’t her problem. Mikey broke her heart and very clearly stated he didn’t want anything to do with her so she wasn’t about to be hard to get rid of. “In today’s news, Japan’s most wanted gang, Bonten, has been—”

She tunes out the news and switches to another channel playing reruns of Naruto. She gets up and heads over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows and draws the curtains open, revealing the vast view of Tokyo in front of her. Another tired sigh leaves her. She’s still in that mini dress Mitsuya made for her for the after-party. Mitsuya held a fashion show for his new line. Many famous people attended and many famous people walked the runway, including her. It was about 5 years ago that Mitsuya had encouraged her to start modelling along with Hakkai. Now both of them were pretty famous. Her life was going pretty well. She had a steady stream of money coming in, multiple brand deals coming her way and she no longer felt like actual shit. So when Mitsuya asked her to be in his show she agreed right away. The show was a success and things were going really well till the end of the after-party when she overheard Mistuya talking to Draken about Mikey not having shown up. They invited Mikey.

Sano fucking Manjiro was a wanted criminal at a high-profile fashion show.

Not to mention that they didn’t even tell her that her ex was invited.

Sure it had been 10 years and even if she was over it, she’d rather not face him again. It was stupid to her that Mistuya had even wanted to invite Mikey especially since put them all in 2-3 day-long comas 9 years ago. But boys were stupid and they always forgave each other even after the biggest of problems. Her and Mikey’s past relationship was probably just a second thought so she didn’t blame him too much and got over it fast(but that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed). She ended up leaving the after party a bit earlier which is how she ended up back at her apartment. It’s lonely but thankfully not cold. She should probably take her makeup off or maybe eat something but the kitchen seems to far and the view in front of her— even though she’s seen it a hundred times— was too pretty to look away from. She rests her forehead against the cold glass and sighs, her warm breath creating condensation on the glass.

BANG BANG BANG

She groans internally. Whoever was the door might as well be kicking it down with how loud and hard they’re knocking on it. She pushes herself off the glass and starts to walk toward her door, passing by the few frames of pictures from her childhood.

Pictures of Emma and Baji. Pictures of Mikey. It had taken her a while to get over him but it had been 10 years and it no longer hurt to look at the pictures. She hadn’t put up the ones with just him and her in them but the group ones instead. She looks through the peephole first and sees no one. She furrows her brows and without thinking opens the door. She takes a few steps back as someone stumbles in. She doesn’t see their face at first. She’s greeted with the strong scent of alcohol and a mop of white hair. “What the—”

Her door is slammed shut and the intruder looks up. Her heart stops. Well not really but it felt like it. There, barged into her apartment was Sano fucking Manjiro. “Hey baby”

Her heart drops. “Mikey…”

“Uh-huh, it’s me” He brushes past her and walks further into her apartment like he owned the place “Nice place”

She bites harshly at her bottom lip to stop herself from cursing this guy out(which she was going to do until she saw the gun tucked into the back of his pants). “What are you doing here?” She asks, hesitantly following behind him

Mikey heads over to her kitchen and opens her fridge, rummaging through it the same way he would when they were together all these years ago. She watches in silence but also looks around for her phone to either call the police or maybe Draken to come help. “Mistuya invited me to his show… Lost track of time and couldn’t make it” He says and pulls out a bottle of Korean alcohol, peach flavoured Soju

She runs her fingers through her hair. “And what does that have to do with me?” She asks as Mikey slams her fridge door shut and takes a seat on the tiled floor while she stands before him

He unscrews the metal cap and carelessly throws it at her the same way he would when they would go through her dad’s alcohol collection and secretly drink from it when they were together. “Since I missed the show, thought I’d come see the star” Mikey takes a swing and his eyes scan her up and down “Mistuya made that dress f’you, yeah?”

Her heart is beating fast and so hard it’s hurting her ribs. The dress was short. Longer from the back, covering her butt at least but shorter at the front, showing off her long legs as Mitsuya said. It hugged her form with the corset styled lacing at the back of the dress. “Yeah he did…”

There is a moment of silence between them. She needs him to leave. It was so stupid that Mikey was back. Even worse that this guy was cosplaying as Izana. His haired bleached platinum and cut short. He even had that stupid Hanafuda tattoo on the back of his neck. She feels angry but before she could say another, Mikey speaks first “you gained weight… You look good”

She instantly feels sick. “Shut up”

Mikey smirks as he takes a swing from the glass green coloured bottle. “Is that still a sore topic for you? I thought that now that you’re a model you—”

“Please just shut up” She pleads

She’d rather not hear this again. Not after so many years. She used to have a problem with eating. It’s not that she had an issue with how she looked or something like that, she had an issue with food in general. “You’ve got food in your fridge though. You’re eating well” Mikey murmurs, his hand reaching up to hold her thigh “not sickly skinn—”

“Mikey” She mutters clenching her fists “stop it”

Mikey just smiles and it infuriates her. How dare he come back after 10 years and do this? Say this? “Can you leave?”

“No”

“What do you mean, no?”

Mikey is still smiling like nothing is wrong. Through the dim lighting she sees his dark circles and unnecessarily pale skin. He looks like death. “Come sit”

He doesn’t give her much of a choice when he pulls her down. Her knees make contact with the tilted floor making a thud sound and she hisses in pain. Mikey puts the bottle of Soju down next to him and coos gently, putting his hands on her knees and rubs them to ease the sudden pain. “Sorry about that, got carried away” he murmurs, voice all sweet

Now that she’s this close she can smell the alcohol on his and his cologne. Her head spins as Mikey adjusts her position with ease, letting her legs drape over his lap. “You need to leave” She tells him, watching him pick up the Soju again and drink from it, keeping his free hand on her quickly bruising knees, rubbing them

“I don’t think so” Mikey says with a shrug “and it doesn’t look like you want me to leave”

She doesn’t think she’s ever met someone more delusional than him. “No. Actually I want you to leave. You baradged into my house. Get. Out”

“Is that how you treat all your ex-lovers?” Mikey questions, a playful smile on his lips “oh wait, last I heard little miss model has been single since we broke up. Don’t you wanna get back together? Don’t you miss me—”

“Nope”

“You answered pretty fast so I’m guessing that’s a yes”

She pulls her legs away from his lap and scoots back to create some distance between them. Mikey’s eyes darken as she moves away, looking a mixture of disappointed and some other emotion. “I need you to leave” She says more sternly this time

Mikey just takes another swing of the bottle, giving her the same look as he would when they were younger when he wasn’t in the mood to listen. He was a criminal. A ruthless gangleader who had the country under his boot but here he was drinking her soju on her kitchen floor acting the same way he did when he was 14. “Mikey—”

“Manjiro… You called me Manjiro” He cuts her off it makes her mad

“No, Mikey” She says, trying to make her voice as stern as possible

Mikey raises his brow. “No?” he repeats

“No.”

They both stare at each other for a moment. “Why not?” Mikey asks, his blunt nails taping against the glass of the now half empty bottle in his hand “It’s been 10 years, has anything really changed?”

His eyes are glossy red and pale cheeks a bit flushed. She surprised he isn’t drunk yet. Perhaps he built up his tolerence over the years. She shifts, sitting in a side saddle position on the floor so she didn’t put any more pressure on her still aching knees. “It’s been 10 years” She repeats narrowing her eyes at him “You can’t just come back out of nowhere and expect me to welcome you back with open arms… I’ve made something of myself. You can’t come back out of nowhere and ruin it for me”

She feels so angry. He wasn’t allowed to do this. “Please don’t ruin this for me”

Mikey doesn’t say anything for a moment. He’s just staring at her like he’s oblivious to what she’s saying, like he doesn’t understand what she means. Mikey just takes another gulp of the peach soju and her eye twitches. “You had to show up today to ruin things” She says with anger “I wanted to put you in the past ‘cause what you did traumtized me but you’re not letting me do that!”

Mikey is staring at her like a lost puppy, sipping at the soju like it’s water. “I’ve moved on but you’re back here sitting in my fucking kitchen not listening to a word I’m saying”

It was like talking to a damn wall. Mikey wasn’t listening and going off on a rant would just be her wasting her breath. “Drink” Mikey holds out the bottle to her

She’s angry. So fucking angry but the bottle was her own, bought with her own money when she went to Korea a week ago for a photoshoot so she takes it from him and takes a large gulp. It was bitter for some reason. She can taste cigarettes on the rim which was probably from Mikey and it pissed her off even more. Hours pass and it’s soon 1 am. “Mikey I can’t say goodbye if you stay here the whole night” She tells him

They’re still on her kitchen floor and now on their 3rd bottle. She watches Mikey about to light a cigarette but she slaps the stick out of his hand. “No smoking in my house” she hisses

Mikey frowns but shrugs, stuffing his lighter back into his pocket. “But I don’t wanna leave” he murmurs, reaching out to hold her waist, dragging her closer to him with ease across the tiled floor “I want you back”

Her now completely bruised knees make contact with his the side of his thigh and she puts her hands on his biceps in a poor attempt to either pull away or push back from him. Mikey squeezes her waist for a moment then slides his hands lower to her hips then her bare thighs, squeezing her there. “You know you were pretty when we were younger but you’re even prettier now” He says with a sigh “you look so pretty with the weight gain—”

She digs her nails into his clothed biceps. “I don’t want to talk about that”

Mikey cocks his head to the side. “But ‘m complimenting you”

“I don’t like these kinds of compliments”

“You’re a model” He murmurs, his hands sliding back up to her waist and squeezing again “you shouldn’t have become one if you didn’t like people talking about your body”

“No one talks about my body the way you do” She says with a frown “I don’t like how you do it”

Mikey chuckles lowly. The same condescending way when he dumped her 10 years ago. “That’s not a nice thing to say to the guy that’s trying to woo you back”

“You’re not being nice in the first place. You fucking bardged in” she digs her nails more into his clothed skin but he doesn’t flinch “I promise Mikey, the ending between us will always be the same. There’s no good reason in make believing that we could ever exist again”

Mikey still doesn’t seem to hear her. He simply lets go of her waist and slides away from her. When she thinks he was getting up to leave, he surprises her by laying his head on her bare thighs instead. This was infuriating. “Mikey have you dated anyone since then?”

“Yeah” he says, grabbing one of her hands to put it in his hair “But none of them were pretty like you. No one’s pretty like you…”

She doesn’t say anything. “You don’t wanna get back together but can’t we be friends? I missed you” Mikey says, his voice barely above a whisper this time

He sounds sad but she won’t give in. This wasn’t fair. “I can’t be your friend or your lover” Her voice is a mere whisper this time “I can’t Manjiro”

Not with what he did now— it would be detrimental for her career if the public found out she was friends with Sano Manjiro, the man reining terror of Japan and the surrounding countries little by little— not with how he broke up with her, not with how he talked to her, not with the constant uncertainty of if he’d leave her once again. She wouldn’t put herself through that again. “Manjiro I can’t be the reason we hold back each other from falling in love”

She feels something wet on her thighs.

Mikey— Manjiro is crying.

She sighs. She might as well let him stay for as long as it takes.

Just till he pulls himself together.

And hopefully, till then, she doesn’t give in.

#tokyo revengers #mikey sano #mikey x reader #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers fandom #sano manjiro #tokyo revengers x reader

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adorkastock · 9 months ago

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Sorry if you've answered this before but why did you change your name from Senshistock to Adorkastock

Oh yes! Let's talk about it! ⭐ When I started making pose references I was doing them for myself so I could draw Sailor Moon OCs. Fandom friends were like, "Wow nice poses!" and I was like "Thanks, it me." so they asked to use them, too.

I started making more poses focused on Sailor Moon themed characters and ideas which is why I chose the name "SenshiStock." Senshi is the Japanese word for soldier and the characters in Sailor Moon were called "bishoujo senshi" AKA "pretty soldiers." (In the modern incarnations the branding as been "pretty guardians" to focus more on the protection aspect vs the fighting aspect.) Eventually people started asking me for poses that were outside this theme and I began to expand my gallery. For many years I kept the name but for a long, long time it was feeling like it didn't fit anymore. Only - I didn't have a new name? SarahStock was one but she's a Canadian wrestler so I didn't want that to be confusing. 😅 Fast forward to 2018/2019 when I started getting really serious about my hairbow making business. I needed a name and a friend (gosh I wish I could remember WHO) suggested "AdorkaBows" since my bows are pretty nerdy themed. I loved it immediately. After that it just seemed natural (and maybe good marketing?) to change my pose reference stuff to "AdorkaStock." It was actually my kid who made that suggestion. Brilliant little bean.

So yeah to summarize for the TL;DR:

SenshiStock name felt outdated thematically

I didn't have a good name so I didn't change it for many years after that feeling started

my bow business got a name AdorkaBows

stock followed along = AdorkaStock

And that's how that happened. ♥

#ask adorkastock #about #FAQ

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spotsandsocks · 3 months ago

Text

Fuck it Friday ⚔️

Tagged by @jesuisici33 @tizniz 💜

Ive had some nice comments about Princess Lavana my OC in Good Knight Sweet Prince before and another one arrived today and it had me re reading the chapter and enjoying her all over again so in the hope that I can hook someone else into this AU here’s a bit of Lavana chatting to her boys. If I ever get round to the sequel her and Ravi will be playing a bigger part. (Same pic crew as before for pic)

Eddie continues “And I happen to know you have at least four knives on you, right now.”

Her eyes widen comically as she fights to keep her laughter contained “Who doesn’t?”

Eddie relaxes enough to chuckle himself, “Most people your highness, most people.” He does like Lavana, always has.

Her laugh is deep and draws a pair of blue and brown eyes to them, Eddie ignores the weight of the stares as she says “‘it’s six actually, you can never be too careful.”

“Six what?” Ravi asks as he sweeps his wife from the top of the fence and spins her in his arms, planting her back on the ground with a kiss. When she doesn’t answer he says, “Knives? Again my love? I thought that we agreed four was enough.”

“Phah!” The noise is inelegant but somehow suits the Princess whose standing in front of them, half Eddie’s size and probably twice as dangerous.

“Even six is insufficient, before I chained myself to you, my love” her eyes are warm despite the words, “ I would carry no less than ten.”

“And you are a master with them,” Ravi bows over her hand and kisses it. Eddie’s aware of Buck staring in open admiration at them right next to him. He doesn’t blame him for staring they are adorable and very attractive. Eddie really wishes he didn’t like the royal couple as much as he did, he wishes he could hate them for being so perfect and so happy and so able to have Buck if they wanted him.

“Ten knives?” Buck asks in a voice that blends shock and interest.

Princess Lavana cocks her head and looks more innocent than a person carrying multiple concealed weapons should be capable of, “Indeed, a very respectable number, hardly excessive.”

Buck looks unconvinced but amused while Ravi pulls his wife closer, his pride in her obvious, “My love is exceptional in so many ways your Highness.” Eddie looks away from Ravi’s handsome face smiling at Buck, unfortunately what he chooses to look at is Buck’s face smiling back just as fondly. He feels a little sick, as one prince says to the other.

“Please call me Buck. We’re friends now.”

The words send a bolt of tension down Eddie’s spine, wiping the smile he hadn’t been aware off from his face.

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

I’d love more people to read this fic. I really think you’d like it!! Promise 😁😁😁😆😘 yeah yeah I’m going on about this one again. Sue me 😆 would love to see anything you want to share it’s FIF after all tags under cut

@daffi-990 @bi-buckrights @buffaluff @stagefoureddiediaz @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @evanbi-ckley @elvensorceress @bekkachaos @beyourownanchor6 @tizniz @repressedqueen @steadfastsaturnsrings @thekristen999 @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @spaceprincessem @honestlydarkprincess @diazsdimples @actualalligator @dr-shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @rogerzsteven @spaceprincessem @inell @underwaterninja13 @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @diazheartsbuckley @olismabel @loveyouanyway @saybiwithme @shipperqueen6 @disasterbuck @princessfbi @starshaker @fiona-fififi @sharpbutsoft @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @jackluvsdaniel @weewootruck @bewilderedbuckley @chaosandwolves

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #good knight sweet prince #buddie au #fantasy au #Prince!buck #911 fic #911 fanfic #911fic #911 abc

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malenjoyer · 6 months ago

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hey, rc, do you mind just posting this?

hi! for those who didnt see my retweet, my name's ruin/ruina. malenjoyer (the real one here) and i have been friends since 2019 thereabouts.

to jayce and people who continue to support him: there is no conspiracy or alt account. there is no "this is actually someone else posting and lying." i can pin point to several drawings of his that have come out of conversations or jokes with me; i can give you timeline stuff. i can give you all the damn proof you need to know jayce is lying. there have been instances of sharing batman media, like the rogues podcast, that came because of me and being gushy about scarecrow.

but i gotta piece to say and me saying it on my blog won't really make it to your ears so.

my friend rc is an amazing person. he really is.

he tries so hard to be a good person and he is. he is kind hearted and listens to people. he gives his friends everything he can and receives just as much love. he's an amazing friend; hes funny and intelligent as all get out. he is fun to be around and has the most insightful advice you can ask of anyone. he's passionate about his interests. he throws himself wholly into the things he loves and it is so beautiful to see. he truly genuinely is one of the most real people you will ever meet. and i am truly, truly blessed to have his friendship in my life.

and it makes me mad, jayce, that you have seen him as someone to use. that you have the audacity to take my friend's identity and pretend to be him. you cannot begin to comprehend the amazing kind of person rc actually is. just because an online figure has a very private life does not mean you have right to pretend to be him.

it's devastating to watch him hurt and try to figure out how to navigate being stalked and used; it infuriates me. and i gotta know: for what purpose? for clout?

hey, jayce and co, quick question:

who drew this? what characters are they?

no points for guessing! this is an unpublished malenjoyer commission/wip for me! *my* oc and her dad. that he made for me months ago.

in case youre curious! ^ theres what she looked like before i asked for revisions. while we were on call! i have no shame in posting my discord user but for HIS privacy, i will block his out. but know, its not you jayce.

because try as you might to convince people you're my friend, there is so much more proof that you're not him. rc wouldn't do this kinda shit.

do you know what integrity is, jayce? you should look it up and get some.

rc has a private life and to use his private life as a way to gain your own following/friends/whatever is awful. its cruel. its traumatising. its awful. you're a piece of shit. you're an absolute piece of shit and rc might be too nice to say fuck you but im not.

fuck you. leave him alone.

ily 😭😭😭 MY RIDE OR DIEE

#long post #also… check out rogues podcast. send him your money too if you like his work

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the-boy-meets-evil · 1 year ago

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take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt 1

(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut rating: explicit (for the full fic) warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, lots of stereotypical fall activities, reader's brother is chan's age and reader is 2 years older, eventual smut (in pt 3 - see that for warnings), any names of other idols are considered to be OCs word count: ~6.5k (full fic is roughly 23k) a/n: huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. this is part 1, the full fic is in 3 parts and the dates for the next 2 parts are at the bottom. also thank you to my bby indi for beta reading @wongyuseokie and creating an amazing banner @classicscreations. if you want to be tagged in the next 2 parts, send an ask or dm or just comment 💕

masterlist | next

Fall has never been Chan’s favorite season. The weather cools down, but it’s in this weird in-between. One day, it’s cold enough for heavy jackets, and the next it’s almost warm enough to wear shorts. It starts to get dark too early as the days get shorter, which makes it feel like there’s just less time in the day. Or, even worse, there are days when Chan leaves the apartment in the dark and returns in the dark. Everything feels like it’s dying with the leaves falling. It seems like it should be a season of thankfulness and friends and holidays, but it just ends up feeling like an ending in a bad way. He’s not cynical, he’s just not really sure he likes this time of year.

“I wish I had someone to do fall things with me,” you announce to nobody in particular.

Okay, well maybe Chan needs to rethink this whole opinion on the season. Because here’s the other thing, he’s always been drawn to you. Sure, you’re his friend. It’s just, he’s always been closer to your brother, Jay. Always a little envious, too. You and Jay are friends as much as siblings, despite you being two years older. So much so that your friend group is somewhat merged. Chan knows that Jay has friends you don’t hang around with and that the same goes for you. It’s still nice, though. Seeing the two of you, he understands what it means to love family and also like them.

Yet in all those years of friendship, Chan can still remember the moment when he started seeing you differently. You’d called Jay late one night, no text or anything, and Jay picked up right away because it was so unlike you. It was your first real breakup, a guy you met and started dating in college, the only time you and Jay had been really separated. Even if the separation was only a two hour drive. You were so devastated that Jay switched to a video call and convinced you to come home for the weekend. All Chan can remember is how much he wanted to protect you from ever feeling that way again. He knew you didn’t deserve the way that guy made you feel. Then, the new school year came around, and he and Jay were on campus with you. The draw has only gotten stronger since then.

“Isn’t that what you have a boyfriend for?” Jay asks.

You roll your eyes affectionately. “He doesn’t really like the fall. Plus, he’s super busy with work projects. He doesn’t want to go pick apples or adventuring or any of that stuff.”

The way you play it off feels casual, like it doesn’t actually matter. Your eyes tell a different story. Chan’s heart breaks a little as he does everything he can to not show it. Jay, unfortunately for you, also notices.

“Is everything okay with…shit, what’s his name?” Jay asks.

“Come on, Jay, they hard launched like 6 months ago, shouldn’t you know his name by now?” Lisa, ever the best friend to you, chimes in.

“Ease up, Lisa,” you say, voice a little tired. “Things with Seungsik are fine, he’s just busy right now.”

“Hey,” Jay starts.

“We can always do fall stuff with you,” Chan hears himself offer without even realizing he’s saying anything. Several pairs of eyes shoot to him.

“Bro, you hate fall shit,” Vernon scoffs.

“I do not,” Chan retorts.

“Since when? I had to twist your arm for Friendsgiving last year,” Jay counters.

“That is true,” Lisa agrees.

“No you too,” Chan directs at Lisa.

“That’s really sweet, Channie,” you cut across the bickering. It takes everything in him to remain neutral at your compliment and the use of a nickname. “Maybe we can do some stuff as a group. I feel like Fall is the time for friends anyway.”

There’s a smattering of agreement, names thrown out of other friends that aren’t there, lighthearted eye rolls at how into this season you are, and more than a glance or two in Chan’s direction. He does his best to ignore those. He doesn’t need to think about them right now. All he can really focus on is that he agreed to get up insanely early on Sunday morning so that you could take this train ride that you’ve wanted to do in the Fall to see all the trees changing colors. Especially since the colors are more vibrant this year. Which is fine. Chan doesn’t really mind being up early, but nobody else is committing to go. Not even your brother. The fact that you seem unbothered at it being just you and him makes Chan’s stomach flip.

Chan is nervous when it comes time to leave for the train ride. You offered to pick him up since you were dragging him out of the warmth of his bed so early in the morning and even said he didn’t have to go through with it. Which meant you probably wouldn’t go through with it because the two other people that had tentatively agreed backed out the night before. Even over text, Chan could tell that you were disappointed at the thought of not going. And even he had to admit that he was curious about the draw of this particular activity. So off you went.

It only takes one day for Chan to start changing his opinion on the season. Or, one person. There’s something about the way your face lights up the second you’re on the train that takes him over as well. You’re more excited, still, that the train doesn’t seem that crowded, so the two of you will have your own little area to sit in without anyone else that close by. Sheepishly, you admit that the train runs multiple times a day, but this gives you the most time at the top of the mountain. Taking advantage of how rare it is to spend time alone with you, Chan asks you what exactly it is that you love about Fall. Maybe if he hears from someone who loves it, he’ll see it differently.

He watches as your face transforms. Your eyes get wide, and a genuine smile spreads across your face, gone just long enough to ask if he’s sure. All Chan can do is laugh because it’s so endearing. But he nods, and you’re like a kid at Christmas. You start with the leaves as the train pulls away from the station. There’s more to them than just changing color and falling to the ground, at least to you. Yes, they’re pretty, like shades of gold fluttering along with the wind and bringing good fortune. You liken it to growth in a way Chan never considered. Sure, the leaves are changing color and dying. It’s also about growth and release. Trees need to let go of their leaves so they can go into their next phase. So they can be ready to grow new leaves and new life in the spring. You don’t get that without the release in the Fall.

You like the way things taste fresher, too. The way apples feel crisper because it’s when they were meant to be enjoyed. The way vanilla and cinnamon just warm your soul with everything they’re baked into. You love the comfort, like a warm blanket, of just being able to bake so many things. When Chan points out that you bake all year around, you get that playful smile again. You agree and disagree at the same time. You can bake all year round, but certain things were just meant for when the weather starts to get colder.

Most of all, you really just feel like it’s a positive change. Of learning to let go of all the things that are holding you back. Of cutting out those parts of life that feel dead or stagnant. Of starting the process to allow new things to grow. Chan doesn’t mention that maybe you’re not as good at that part as you want to think. He can tell you want to be, but he wonders if you realize there’s someone in your life who really isn’t adding anything to it anymore. He doesn’t mention Seungsik and neither do you.

When you get to the top and step off the train, Chan gasps at the sight. He’s never really stopped to appreciate nature like this and it’s overwhelming in the best way. It makes him feel kind of small, except it’s not a bad feeling, and he’s really glad that you suggested taking the early train because it means the top of the mountain isn’t crowded. He’s so busy taking in the clear views that go on for miles that he doesn’t even notice the way your face lights up watching his reaction. He can’t possibly know how full your heart is at him being so present.

“This is beautiful,” he whispers. It seems like a crime to disrupt the peace.

“Yeah, it is,” you agree. There’s something in the way you say it that makes Chan look over at you. By the time he looks, though, your eyes are on the horizon as well.

“Have you done this before? I don’t feel like I remember Jay talking about it at all,” Chan asks, still watching you.

You stiffen for a second in a way that’s entirely at odds with the mention of your brother. Or maybe your mind is a million miles away. That’s another thing that Chan’s always found so interesting about you. There’s a brightness and a lightness about you, but there’s also a sense of mystery. LIke there are parts of yourself that you always hold back. Like you want to appear to be entirely open, even though you’re not. Like there are secret parts that only your closest relationships get to know.

“Jay wouldn’t have,” you finally answer with a smile. “Our grandparents brought me when we were both still little. But Jay wasn’t interested, so he stayed with our parents. I’ve wanted to do it again as an adult, but you know, life happens.”

“Anyone who cares about you would want to see this,” Chan admits as he looks out at the views again.

It’s too honest, and Chan knows it, but there’s just something about this kind of environment that makes him want to admit things he shouldn’t. Or wouldn’t, normally. There’s something like anonymity surrounded by this much nature. It reminds you just how small people are in comparison. He’s also thankful that you seem to be agreeing that you can say those unspoken things here. That is, until he feels your hand on his arm, turning him to look at you.

“Thank you, Chan,” you say with more sincerity than he’s ever heard in all the time he’s known you. “I care about you, too.”

“I, um,” Chan starts and clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”

“We’ve never hung out like this, just the two of us,” you say, still watching him.

“No, we haven’t,” Chan agrees because it’s all he can do to hold onto his rapidly slipping composure.

“I was…okay, this is gonna sound dumb, but I was a little nervous. That’s why I tried to give you an out,” you say. Your voice is soft and you look down at your feet. Like it’s too much to admit while looking at Chan and when it’s so quiet all around you.

“I almost took it,” Chan tells you.

“Why didn’t you? Weren’t you worried?” you wonder.

Chan shrugs to buy himself a second. “Because it was important to you. I figured it was better to roll the dice and risk it being a little awkward so you didn’t miss out.”

You turn away, but Chan catches the look on your face anyway. Catches the way you take a steadying breath. Can’t miss the way you try to hide as you wipe away a tear. The last thing he wanted to do was make you upset. And even though his heart is racing, he pulls you into a hug. He’s not sure what else to do except whisper sorries against your hair.

“No, no, no,” you finally say. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I made you cry,” Chan disagrees.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just so insanely sweet that I was overwhelmed for a minute,” you tell him.

“Guess it was awkward after all,” Chan says. It’s a little self-deprecating.

“No, it wasn’t,” you assure him. “This is so much more than I could have asked for. I’m just, I guess I’m not really used to people doing things like this for me.”

Chan is thankful he’s not holding you anymore because there’s no way to hide the way his heart tries to beat out of his chest. All he can do is smile and hope that you can’t read his thoughts because they’re a weird mix. His heart is full that you’re so appreciative of something that seems so small. Sure, life is short, and there are only so many days. But it’s also too short to pass up on opportunities to see something different like this. To actually stop and experience the world around you instead of just rushing to the next day. His heart also breaks at the idea of you not being used to people doing things like this for you. Because it seems so small. It doesn’t seem like some huge thing to do. Chan and Jay have been friends for more than 10 years, so he’s known you for a long time. He knows that you don’t have the best taste in partners. Still, though. He can’t imagine something so small being so impactful to you.

The two of you mostly stick close together, or at least within eyesight of each other. There’s so much to see at the top of the mountain. Little signs seem to ring around the edges, telling people what they’re looking at or giving a history. Each one makes Chan appreciate the views even more. Every once in a while, he also catches you watching him and smiling, like you’re still checking that he’s enjoying himself. He can’t say that, of course, he’s enjoying himself, he’s with you, but he tries to smile back every time.

Eventually, you suggest having lunch at the restaurant next to the little station where the train stops. He’s been so busy taking in his surroundings that he doesn’t even realize that he’s hungry. Right on queue, his stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and you laugh it off. Once you’re sitting down, you can’t seem to settle on one thing for lunch. Without thinking, Chan suggests that you just share a few different things so you can try what you want. Who knows when you’ll be back up here again? Although you seem hesitant at first, a little reassurance from Chan goes a long way. That and him insisting he’ll be happy with whatever you order.

It’s truly an entirely perfect day, one neither of you really wants to end, even if you won’t admit it to the other. But you have to take the train down eventually and come back to reality.

“Sorry I have to take this,” you say with a frown at your phone.

Chan thinks it says Seungsik, which makes him frown, too. It takes a real effort for him not to follow you out of the room with his eyes. Not that Jay, Seokmin, or Jiyeon would notice. They’re currently locked in a Mario Kart battle, with Jiyeon winning yet again. Chan risks a glance in your direction and makes a snap decision.

“Do you guys want anything from the kitchen?” Chan asks.

“Yeah, something to drink,” Seokmin says.

“Is losing making you thirsty?” Jiyeon teases.

“You can’t win forever, Ji,” Jay shoots back. “Come on, Seok, we can work together on this.”

“That’s cheating,” Jiyeon giggles.

Chan ignores the banter to go to the kitchen. Ostensibly, he’s actually planning to get drinks for the group in the living room. Realistically, he’s curious about what’s making you frown and if you’re okay. From his spot in the kitchen, he can hear your voice drifting through the door of Jay’s bedroom. It’s hard to focus on getting drinks.

“I understand that your work is important, but,” you start, working to stay quiet despite the annoyance in your voice.

Maybe this was a bad idea because he wishes he could hear the other side. Or at least know for sure that it was Seungsik.

“Yes, I’m aware that you think it’s just a stupid Fall tradition,” you huff. “No, baby, I’m not saying your work doesn’t matter. It’s the weekend, though.”

Well, at least he knows that it’s Seungsik. Not that it makes it any better.

“That’s not fair, baby. I’m not saying that I don’t want you to work hard or try to get that promotion. You know how much I support you. It’s just I want to matter too,” you say, and Chan’s heart fully breaks at the heartbreak in your voice.

What is wrong with this man that he can’t take a second away from work to spend time with one of the most beautiful people in the world?

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you in weeks. You’re always working or networking and…” you trail off. “No, I do get that networking is part of the job, and you’re up for a promotion…Wow, yes, I do get how hard your job is. But do you get that you keep making promises to me and breaking them?”

There’s a bite to your voice that’s entirely foreign to Chan. It’s also at complete odds with the undercurrent of defeat. There are two sides warring during this conversation, and Chan doesn’t really recognize either of them.

“It’s not just some stupid fall tradition,” you say. It’s without any bite now. You’re defeated. “It’s…yeah, I get it. You think it’s dumb. It’s fine, I understand you won’t be coming.”

It feels like the conversation is probably ending, so Chan turns his back away from the bedroom to focus on drinks. All he can do is hope that nothing about his posture gives him away. But he can’t help listening anyway, and he hears you ending the phone call before shuffling towards the kitchen all the same.

“Oh,” you nearly gasp.

As casually as he can manage, Chan turns around towards your voice with a bag of chips in one hand. That plan goes out the window when he sees you rubbing your eyes. All he wants is to be able to protect you from the world. Because you deserve better. Not that he thinks he’s better. He just knows you deserve more than this. More than being unhappy every time he sees you.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chan asks. He meant to ask if you wanted anything to drink, yet couldn’t ignore your frown.

“How long have you been in here?” you ask.

Chan shrugs. “Not long, just came to get them some drinks and figured I’d grab chips. Do you want anything?”

“That’s a loaded question,” you say under your breath.

“You okay?” Chan asks again. He knows you’re not, but he doesn’t really want to admit that he was listening to your side of the conversation.

“Can I…ugh, this is so weird, but can I just have a hug?” Your eyes are a little wide and a whole lot vulnerable.

It’s silly, but he would give you anything if it meant that you wouldn’t look broken. No, that’s the wrong word. There’s nothing wrong with being a little broken. It’s just that he wishes Seungsik wasn’t letting you down time after time. Chan sets down the chips and opens his arms without a word. There’s relief on your face as you step forward and wrap your arms around his middle. Your head rests on his shoulder and he feels the moment that your body releases the tension. Feels the moment when your breathing relaxes to match his own. When you step away, your eyes at least look a little happier.

“It’s never weird to ask for a hug from a friend,” Chan tells you.

You laugh at that, a real laugh, and for a second, Chan wonders why. “You seem to be getting a lot of my emotional side lately.”

Chan just shrugs again. “I’m happy to see whatever side you wanna show me.”

Just then, Jay comes into the kitchen, grumbling about losing another game. He doesn’t even look at Chan or you before going to grab the drinks on the counter. It’s probably the perfect timing so that Chan doesn’t say anything else that’s too honest.

“I thought you were leaving,” Jay says to you.

“Wow, trying to get rid of me already?” you ask without any of the normal teasing Jay is used to.

“Of course not. I just thought you were going apple picking with Seungsik,” Jay answers.

It’s then that he seems to really look at you and realizes something is wrong. He looks like he’s about to take back his words when you open your mouth. “No, he’s too busy with something for work. So I’ll probably just stick around here.”

Chan looks at your brother and hopes he picks up the same wavelength. It seems he does because he sighs in resignation. But it’s a mark of how concerned he is that he doesn’t mention Seungsik being a dick for this. “Why don’t we go with you?”

“What?” you ask.

“Hey,” Jay calls into the living room. “Who wants to go apple picking?”

“I’m in, beating you and Seokmin is getting boring,” Jiyeon answers.

“You haven’t won every one,” Seokmin whines.

“You don’t have to do this,” you say softly to your brother.

“Oh, are we going with you?” Jiyeon asks. “I’m in. Can I call Vernon and drag him along?”

“We should ask Lisa if she wants to come too. She loves that stuff,” Seokmin suggests. “I haven’t actually gone apple picking in forever.”

“It’s a lost cause,” Chan tells you, “we’re all going apple picking now.”

“Fine,” you pretend to sigh, “but can I ride with you? Jay’s a shitty driver.”

“I resent that,” Jay scoffs.

It takes a little time to let everyone know where to meet, but Jay manages to wrangle the group well enough so that they all make it to the orchard. True to your word, you ride with Chan. Jay and Jiyeon go to pick up Vernon, and Seokmin goes to pick up Lisa and Mina. Once everyone is there and the bags are bought, groups start to wander off in different directions to look for the best apples. Because, of course, Jiyeon has turned this into a competition and is convinced she can make the best apple pie. Chan knew by the sparkle in your eye that you weren’t going to just settle for that one.

“You’re on,” you say and shake on it.

“Well, this is interesting,” Jay notes.

“Come on, Jay, you’re on my team,” Jiyeon says and grabs his arm.

“Uh, hello, that’s my brother,” you argue.

“Yeah, and he’s tall, better for reaching the perfect apple,” Jiyeon says with a shrug. “Snooze, you lose.”

“If you’re that worried about the perfect apples up high, I’ve already won,” you reason before turning to Chan. “Come on, Chan, you’re with me.”

He doesn’t even hesitate for a minute, which would probably be a little embarrassing if he wasn’t actually looking forward to the afternoon. It seems you have a plan, and all he really has to do is follow along. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s been alone with you, either. Any awkwardness left with the train ride.

There’s more to picking apples than just picking the first ones you see, as Chan quickly finds out. You consult the little flyer about which ones are in season and start talking about which types of apples make the best pies. Which are the best for tarts. Which are the best for a bunch of desserts that he’s never heard of. It goes way over his head when you’re talking about the different flavors of apples and which goes best with cinnamon and nutmeg and all the flavors that remind you of the Fall. He’s always known that you loved to bake, but there's something different about seeing it in action like this. And you’re not even actually cooking.

Despite your insistence about the height of apples, you do come across some trees where the lower ones all look bad, even by Chan’s standards. When there’s a ladder around, he offers to climb up it so that you can have the perfect apple. It seems to make you smile every time. The system works pretty well until you come to a tree with the perfect apples and no ladder in sight. In hindsight, it’ll definitely seem stupid. That he helps you fixate on something so small as the perfect apple. Yet, at the moment, it makes perfect sense.

“Here, climb on my shoulders,” Chan offers and bends down.

“No, it’s really okay,” you say, waving him off.

“If you want the apples, then let’s get you the apples,” Chan insists.

“I’m too heavy,” you protest.

“You’re not,” Chan promises.

“You’re not going to drop me, are you?” you worry.

“Never,” Chan assures you.

He stays crouched down to allow you to climb onto his shoulders. Once you hook your legs around his back and he grabs your knees, he stands up, very thankful that he’s never skipped leg day. What he’s not counting on, or prepared for, is your surprise. Because in that surprise, your thighs squeeze either side of his face. He’s sure it’s an involuntary action. He’s sure you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Yet it makes him swallow hard all the same. As soon as he steadies himself (mentally, that is, because physically he’s fine), he steps towards the tree. On his shoulders, you’re easily tall enough to reach the apples you wanted in the first place.

“Thank you,” you say softly when he lets you back down.

“No problem,” Chan says, ignoring the slight dryness in his throat.

Apparently, taking the perfect pictures in the orchard is just as important as picking the apples. Chan does roll his eyes about that a little bit but agrees to be your photographer anyway. It’s the same thing all over again. Your face lights up at having someone to do all these things with and he’s putty in your hands. It’s impossible to say no. There’s a moment where he can tell that you’re a little upset that your boyfriend isn’t there to take pictures with you. Obviously, part of the whole thing should involve him in your perfect world. Yet he’s not the one that’s here. Instead, Chan offers to take a picture of the two of you and then take some with your other friends when you meet back up.

The group also has to decide just how to judge this baking contest. The only rules that you and Jiyeon agree to is that it has to be something baked and it has to use the apples. Beyond that, it’s up to whoever wants to participate just what they make. It’s not usually Seokmin’s thing, but he offers to help Mina bake and, since neither of them are that good, you and Jiyeon allow it.

“Why don’t we get together next weekend and do something else?” Vernon suggests.

“Like what?” Jay asks.

“Pumpkin carving!” you shout out.

“You know what? That actually sounds fun, and we haven’t done it in years,” Jay says.

“Yeah, we always used to have the best pumpkins as kids,” you agree.

“They were pretty cool,” Chan agrees.

“So pumpkins and whatever baked apple thing to see who wins?” Vernon asks.

Everyone agrees, and Chan can’t help but look to you. Anything you might have been feeling over your boyfriend missing yet another Fall activity that matters to you is forgotten. Or you’re doing a very good job at hiding it. All your face shows is happiness. It’s kind of infectious.

It doesn’t get much more stereotypically Fall than going to the pumpkin patch and taking pictures. Really, it’s pretty cliche. Yet, you seem unfazed by the entire prospect. You’re layered up, just like everyone else, to fight off the crispness of the air. Unlike everyone else, your face lights up when you pull up to the orchard, a different one than where you picked the apples. There are rows upon rows of pumpkins, all waiting to go to the perfect homes. You’re out of the car and off to walk through the rows before anyone else, and you don’t seem to have a care in the world.

There’s an art, Chan learns, to picking the best pumpkin. It all depends on what exactly someone wants to carve. Too small, and it feels crowded, too big and the face gets swallowed. Unless you make everything bigger, which is always an option. That gets a chuckle out of Vernon and a smack to his arm from Lisa. Lisa, always entirely honest, is really just in it for the pictures and then for whatever baked goods they get to taste test later. She’s happy to carve a pumpkin too, but she wants to use a stencil. And fully admits that she’ll probably get bored halfway through.

Almost unconsciously, or maybe by habit at this point, Chan finds himself wandering through the rows with you. Every now and then, you pause to consider a pumpkin before moving on. There’s so much concentration on the task, and he can’t help but to wonder if you’re just excited or if you’re also avoiding thinking about other things.

“What are you looking for?” Chan finally asks.

You turn and regard him for a second, evidently deciding that he’s just curious rather than judgmental. “Okay, don’t think it’s lame…”

“Why would I?” he asks honestly.

“I sort of have a couple ideas for what I want to carve,” you admit. “Do you, is it okay if I show you?”

“Yeah, of course,” comes Chan’s immediate reply.

There’s that smile again, the one that lights up your whole face like this is the best day that you can imagine. You pull your phone out of your pocket and open your photos. It’s hard to miss that all the recent images are from the things you’ve done as a group or screenshots or things saved from random searches. There aren’t any recent ones, as you quickly scroll, with you and Seungsik. His attention is pulled back to the task at hand when you show him a couple of different carving ideas you have.

“Which one do you like best?” you ask after showing him several.

“It’s hard to pick. Honestly, I think you should get a couple of pumpkins,” Chan answers.

That actually seems to make you happier as you pluck one from nearby that’s apparently perfect for at least one of your ideas. Chan offers to hold it for you as the two of you carry on in finding just the right pumpkins. It’s interesting, especially having picked apples with you, that you spend so much more care in this. You explain that some of the pumpkins don’t have the best sides so they don’t look as good when you carve them. They’re good for displaying as is or good to back with, but you want the prettiest pumpkins if you’re carving something.

Well, he can’t really argue with that.

Once you’re all back at his and Jay’s apartment, everyone splits off in different directions. You and Jiyeon immediately go to bring out your apple desserts. Chan’s a little surprised, still, that Seokmin and Mina actually made something together. But it all looks good, and he’s kind of hungry. Lisa, who suggested ordering actual food, manages to get the bags inside with Vernon’s help. The two of them get to work setting all the food out on the counter for people to start getting plates. Chan starts pulling out plates and glasses for everyone. Jay clears off their little dining table, which isn’t big enough for everyone, as well as the coffee table. It’s not like this is anything formal anyway.

Even though you and Jiyeon want to start with the desserts, Mina manages to convince you to have actual food first. Then, as everyone is carving, they can start trying whatever looks best to them. You reluctantly agree from your spot on the floor. There’s plenty of space to sit on the couch, but instead, you sit on the floor, right next to Chan’s legs, occasionally brushing against him as you move. It’s a little harder for him to watch you without being so obvious and just as hard to ignore your presence. There’s a vibrance to you again, like everything in your world is right. Like nothing could possibly be missing. It doesn’t escape his notice that you don’t mention Seungsik; don’t seem to be missing him during this activity. It’s not like apple picking where he bailed. He was never part of these plans. Maybe that’s the key, or maybe you’re realizing that doing all of this with friends can be just as fun. Whatever the reason, Chan wants you to keep smiling like this.

After protesting, sitting on the floor to eat, Chan has to agree that sitting on the floor to carve pumpkins makes the most sense. It’s easier when you’re not bending over to the coffee table level. It also gives him more space. Like Lisa, he’s using a stencil that he printed out. He wants it to be perfect, and he’s not sure he could do it freehand.

“Okay, I want dessert. Who’s going to tell me what’s what?” Vernon announces.

You’re up before anyone can say anything to grab your desserts. Plural. “Okay, so I made two…”

“Which is cheating,” Jiyeon interjects.

“Is not,” you reply and stick your tongue out at her. You open each container. “These are just apple fritters and these are salted caramel apple bars.”

“Tell me you did not make caramel from scratch, too,” Jiyeon whines.

“It’s so easy, of course I did,” you retort.

“Ugh, of course,” Jiyeon groans. “Anyway, I made apple-pomegranate cobbler.”

“Which looks amazing,” you compliment, causing Jiyeon to beam.

“And since we knew these two would go totally over the top, we just made plain old apple pie,” Mina says.

“Hey, we worked hard, don’t undersell it,” Seokmin points out.

“I’m sure it’s great, Seok,” Lisa says to pacify him.

“I’m going to eat it all,” Vernon announces.

He goes to get a plate and, true to his word, puts some of everything on it. You carry on carving and wave off Chan’s offer to get you something. It’s hard not to play favorites, but he also doesn’t want some of everything. At least not yet. So he grabs one of the salted caramel apple bars that you made and some of Jiyeon’s dessert. Things get quiet again as everyone is either enjoying the dessert or focusing on their pumpkins.

Despite Vernon taking a break to eat as much dessert as he could stomach, he does get back to working on his pumpkin and it’s annoying how good it looks. He went in without a plan and his pumpkin is one of the best. Chan thinks his could probably be a lot better, but he’s also happy with it. As predicted, Lisa abandoned hers halfway through and has been picking music to play ever since. It’s kind of nice, though, to have her doing that. It makes the whole afternoon into the evening pass by in the best way.

Chan should probably think of new words, but this is another one of those days that just feels like the best of the season. Everyone is together and happy. Nobody is fighting, unless it’s you and Jiyeon playfully arguing when your apple bars win as the best dessert. It’s fine to be in your feelings, and Chan meant it when he said he would be happy with whatever side you wanted to show him. It’s also important to have the lighter days. The easy days. The ones that make weathering the storm a little more manageable. It’s clear there’s definitely still a storm, and he’s thankful for the little breaks like this.

However, as it turns to night, everyone starts to filter out of the apartment. Seokmin, Mina, and Lisa want to go out to the bar and ask if anyone else wants to come. Jiyeon and Vernon already planned to go out to dinner. They’re still in that phase where they want to act like they’re not dating, even though they definitely are, and everyone is happy for them. Jay’s been talking to someone off some dating app that he wants to go hang out with. That just leaves you and Chan.

“I’m actually kinda tired, so I think I might just stay in,” Chan tells Seokmin when he asks again if either of you wants to come to the bar with them.

“I don’t really feel like going out,” you admit before looking at Chan. “Do you mind if I stay here with you?”

“Course not,” Chan answers, ignoring the look he knows Jay is giving the two of you. Your brother’s never really been good at being subtle.

“Lame, but I get it,” Lisa says with a shrug. Everyone but Jay filters out for their plans and he disappears into his bedroom to get ready. Chan gets up to start cleaning up and putting everything away.

“You don’t need to help. You’re a guest,” Chan tells you when you join in on the cleaning.

“Wow, a guest? And here I thought we were friends,” you scoff.

Chan shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I figure if I help then I can rope you into watching a movie with me,” you answer.

“Fine,” Chan says, pretending to be put out.

Truthfully, he’s going to agree to whatever you want to do. You could say that you wanted to learn a new language and Chan would probably at least give it a try. Down horrifically bad. Yet, he’s too caught up in thinking about hanging out with you again that he doesn’t see the way you look over at him every few minutes. Misses the way your gaze softens at how much care he uses in moving the pumpkins. Misses the way your eyes rake over him as if you’re seeing him for the first time. He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize things are starting to shift for you as well.

Instead, the two of you finish cleaning up mostly in silence and are settling onto the couch by the time Jay reemerges. Convenient timing given that he doesn’t have to even make up an excuse about why he can’t help. You’re quick to call him on it and he’s just as quick to brush it off as he runs out the door. It leaves you and Chan on your own for the night. So you pick the place for take away and Chan picks the first movie. Just like that, you settle in for the night.

part 2 coming on dec. 3rd, part 3 coming on dec. 6th. let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged 💕

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calcium-chan · 5 months ago

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DRAWMEGLE DUMP FROM LIKEFORVER AGO

drawmegle was this weird little website that was like omegle, except for drawing and nominally fewer nazis?? tho at launch that was a bit of an issue lol (idk the creator went on vacation right after advertising or something? oops). i got sucked into it for like a day or two and ended up drawing a bunch of stuff. ive lost some of it because there was this weird glitch that just deleted my drawings before i could save them or anything. OH WELL. thats also the reason some of these are slightly unfinished. im also going to be cropping most of these to just my side, exceptions where its funny, or the other persons art was nice or whatever. just know that these almost all had people on the other side who were also drawing their own thing. also of note, i wont be posting these in order of creation, its mostly arbitrary tbh

this first one is of haru from dorohedodo. i had just finished reading the manga about a month or so prior, and i really loved this character a lot. disregard the amogus or whatever. dorohedoro is really cool and its really special to me now. not a fan of the anime adaption but what the fuck else is new (im sorry if you like the anime, i just didnt like the style very much). Q hayashida is brilliant, and she clearly just really loves women like a lot, thank you miss Q!

next is this silly drawing of knives chau. scott pilgrim takes off had just aired, and i was slightly enamored with knives for a bit, i kin the scott pilgrim girl fucking sue me. i also drew kim, but the drawing deleted and this was the last save i had WAHOOOOOO its so fucking over. scott pilgrim takes off was obviously really really good in my opinion, and its like the perfect way to adapt an original work in my mind. uh shout outs knives or whatever.

oops shitty cowboy bebop drawing. i like this one well enough for how goofy it is. jets fucking face still kinda gets me. i love bebop a ton, but i dont think ive ever drawn the characters despite that. theyre actually a ton of fun to draw, like their shapes are all super varied and they have distinct style about them. very good cast of characters. i didnt even realize or mean to, but i kinda gave spike a fucking granny face, oops

uuuuhthese pissing dogs are really funny, they were fun to draw, and seeing peoples reactions to this one in particular was cool. having even a little bit of ability to draw on sites like this where randos are looking at your work as youre drawing it is always kind of an ego boost. like none of these drawings are really that great, but for the medium im happy with them, and having people show up and go "woah" was always really flattering and it was fun watching the other people draw and interacting with them in some limited capacity.

ggggundam bullshit. i left the other persons side this time because i thought it was kinda funny. i had been rewatching the early part of turn A gundam, and it really reminded me how fucking cool that series is? loran is like top 10 gender non conforming mech pilots (there are a surprising amount honestly). and it always kinda takes me off guard when i watch any gundam because they were just so forward thinking in a nominally "boy" coded genre. shoutouts the fucking gundam staff frfr.

@oretal joined me for these next two!

a lot of the shit in the second drawing is probably totally incomprehensible to like anyone outside of a select group. were both have that like, 3ds era nintendo brain parasite, so a lot of these are just weird obscure game characters or memes, or just straight up OCs. most of these are actually oretals little characters which have kind of entered that inside joke canon of being so ubiquitous between the two of us (and honestly i assume oretals friend group at large) that i kinda forget "glasses girl" isnt a well known character. many such cases. thank you oretal for drawing silly shit with me! i really like your drawing of james and your madotsuki yapping about blunt rotations to uboa. very cool

uuuh quick fire round of stuff i dont like how i drew but want to post anyways. the first one is my irl husband, aki from chainsaw man. i love him a lot, kinda hate this drawing tho, i think it was the first one i did? the second one is basil from omori, im a big fan of little blorbos who peep the horror, and basil is no exception. my friend got me the little vinyl figure of him for my birthday so i end up thinking about him a lot and i doodle him every now and then. very good design. the last one is kiruko from heavenly delusion. i did not have much hype going into the show after my middling feelings on summertime rendering (they were both in the news for being on disney+ for absolutely no reason). i dont remember what got me to watch it, but by the time episode 2 ended i was stuck in big time. i ended up binging the whole series in like one night and it was such a good time. the prototypical calcium show is probably somewhere between heavenly delusion and made in abyss. its a rough watch at times, but if you have this specific brainrot, its probably one of the best in its league tbh.

second to last is this drawing of vriska homestuck. i kept the other side because it was really pretty. im genuinely quite pleased witht his drawing, its not perfect but for what it is i find it visually appealing enough to like it. vriskas design is probably the best in homestuck, at least to me. its been a long time since ive read through homestuck proper, but something about these little shits sticks with you pretty much forever. actual fucking deadly brain parasites you get from dunking your head underwater in an infested pool, dead within days.

OOPS ALL KUMI CHAN! it had to be alien nine, it could only be alien nine. i love alien nine more than i love any of my blood relatives. kumi is literally me, i love this stupid fucking series so much you have no idea.

#dorohedoro #scott pilgram takes off #cowboy bebop #gundam #yume nikki #heavenly delusion #homestuck #alien nine

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cybrthrillz · 8 months ago

Text

HOW YOU CAN HELP PROVIDE AID FOR PALESTINE

VETTED FUNDRAISER MASTERPOSTS (1) (2) (3)

COMMISSIONS CLOSED

---

EXPLAINING THE CYBRTHRILLZ CONTROVERSY

cred: @regretevatorstamps, @catcrumb, unknown, lesbian herstory archives, unknown, unknown

MY EPIC STRAWPAGE

hello! i'm cybrthrillz! i have too many names so please call me whatever you'd like! she/they/he pronouns please.

i'm a muslim transfem lesbian, based in indonesia. i am number one wallter fan and retrowall ceo. i also am the muslim hijabi wallter headcanon haver. local lover of literally every wallter ship ever. (none of these titles are actually serious nor am i claiming that i created/started any of these lol)

right now, i love drawing regretevator, but other interests i have are the royale high guards, roblox doors, doodle world, jason voorhees, minecraft (mcyt, parkour civilization, minecraft mobs, mc jams), spongebob squarepants, saw, starkid (nerdy prudes must die, the guy who didn't like musicals, black friday, nightmare time), sneegsnag, the human centipede, tusk (2014), happy tree friends, cult of the lamb, team fortress 2, mob psycho 100, spooky month, subway midnight and dexter's laboratory.

⬆️ my oc, R4V3, who i use as my persona!

while this account is viewable by everyone, PLEASE keep in mind that this account contains suggestive art and content (i will never post explicit sexual art here, however, as i am not an adult). be responsible. i'm not your parental guidance nor am i at fault for what you may see.

i am currently running two ask blogs: @wallterwall (wallter) and @meowdoctor! (drretro) i also have a 17+ side blog @walltersbignaturals!

tumblr, refsheet, twitter, instagram and tiktok are the ONLY platforms i post on. my username is ALWAYS cybrthrillz. if you see someone impersonating me please inform me.

you can repost, edit, trace, use my art as long as its not for financial gain and you dont remove my watermark. idc if you credit me so long as my watermark is visible in the drawing but it would be nice!

tags i use:

💾 #not sfw - my catchall tag for anything you wouldnt want your boss or your mom to see. nsfw ≠ pornography

💾 #notsafeforyeucc - my nsfw regretevator stuff

💾 #cybrartz - my art

💾 #cybrcommz - finished commissions i've done

💾 #cybrtalkz - my ramblings/text posts/memes

💾 #cybrreblogz - my reblogs

💾 #cybraskz - my answers to any asks i receive

💾 #cybrjoyz - things that make me happy

💾 #cybrdubz - comic dubs talented people make of my art

💾 #cybrdescz - my image descriptions

#please feel free to block me if my content makes you uncomfortable #i simply just draw what i want #Spotify

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simplydannie · 3 months ago

Note

Haii pooks!

I know your busy, but when you get the chance, Fanfic about when Veneer and Neena first met? Maybe Nate cameo at the end 🫶🏼

Baii :3

Haii!

Okay so here ya go!

A little context first:

Neena was an OC created WAY before my Under Rageous AU. So this story will not be taking part in that storyline and is completely separate 😊 She was created because I was curious how a HOH character would interact in this kind of world. Also being a V and V fan, my OC befriends them and actually knows them before their fame journey. Her and Veneer had a hard time making friends throughout high school but found each other and became the bestest of friends. Later Veneer would introduce her to Velvet whom she’d befriend as well. Her main form of communication for someone who doesn’t know sign language (like Veneer) is through a notebook which she carries with her everywhere.

A small cameo by @justnat3 OC!

Both drawings for the cover art were done by @skydiverdrawings!

Enjoy!

High school.

This was it.

Elementary school…bust. Middle school…bust. High school was going to be his time to shine…

Velvet and Veneer didn’t want to make a big deal when driving up to their new high school. Instead of the limo, they rode in a black SUV, their Bergen driver up front with his sunglasses up.

“You really think they won't make a big deal out of this?” He asked his sister as he adjusted his beanie.

“Really? This is high school and you're still wearing that stupid thing?”

“What? It was dad’s, it’s my favorite, AND I think it looks good on me.”

”Whatever you say bro…”

Velvet and Veneer Montegue. Their name rang throughout all of Mount Rageous as their father was a renowned businessman and CEO, in charge and overseeing all power industries in the city…basically everything that ran Mount Rageous from the ground up. Since grade school, EVERYONE knew. What made it worse, at least in Veneer’s eyes, was that it was hard for them to make any friends… The most powerful man in Mount Rageous, had the most lonesome children around.

The twins had spent elementary and middle school only amongst themselves. Veneer was the target of bullying, and his sister, well, his personal bodyguard. No one would hang out with her because of how afraid they were. No one wanted to be his friend because well, he was just different, at least in their eyes…

“...People just don’t know how to accept those that are different.” His mother told him one day. He had come home bruised by the beating of the kids at school.

So, all that time, it was always him and Velvet against the world…

“No more playing nice.” Their father had told them as the twins lay in bed one night. He took their face in each of his hands, “They don't like it when you’re nice. Fine. If they want hell, then give them hell.”

”Daddy! You said a no-no word!” Veneer gasped, placing his hand over his mouth.

Vaughn smiled, “Think of it as a motivational word….just don’t tell your mother.”

The twins giggled…

Veneer planned for high school to be his moment to shine…for both him and his sister… This was it. He was going to make friends! He was going to make the yearbook with something more positive on it!

The SUV finally pulled up to the entrance of the school. Both twins grabbed their bags.

“If they want hell…” The Bergen began to say.

“Then give them hell.” The twins replied in unison. They smiled after getting out of the car…The motto their father taught them. There they stood staring at the entrance of Rageous High…

“Ready.” Velvet said.

“No. Not really.”

“Good enough. Let’s do this!”

It has been three months since that day…

….And Veneer had yet to make any friends…

His sister on the other hand was flourishing. She had a whole group of friends now. Velvet would continuously invite him to sit with her during lunch, to hang out with them after school…but Veneer refused. He’d make an excuse; he didn’t want her to worry…For one, when his sister wasn’t around, they would bully him, but they were her friends, so he’d never tell her…He knew she’d choose him over them and he wanted her to have the best high school experience ever. She deserved it after all those years she spent being friendless because of him. He’d even lie to his parents.

“So…How was school today?” Their father asked. Velvet would beam at the time she was having, showing their parents the pictures she took with her and her friends. Veneer could see the relief and happiness in his parents…So when it came for him to speak…he lied.

“Yeah. There are guys from my science class and art class…We sit together at lunch and just kinda have fun.”

“Where do you sit? I never see you.” Velvet declared.

“We rotate. We mainly like to sit outside.” Veneer lied again.

“That's wonderful sweetheart! You are more than welcome to invite them over! Both of you.” Vivian smiled.

“...Well…They wont cause trouble will they?” Vaughn asked.

“Chill dad. You know I'd set them straight if they caused trouble.” Velvet smirked.

“That’s my girl.”.....

…Veneer walked down the hall towards his locker, his head hanging low, hopefully he’d be left alone, hopefully no one would look his way. He made it to his locker only to see the words “moron” written across it.

“Typical.” He sighed, opening his locker.

“Do you need something to clean that with?” He heard a voice call to him. He turned around to see a pale, light- blue haired Rageon standing behind him. He knew him, Veneer remembered, he had him in English class…Nate his name was.

“No…I’ll just clean it later.” Veneer said with a heavy sigh as he grabbed his books.

“….Don’t let them get to you.” The boy smiled, “See you later.”

Veneer waved. Nate was kind, but the people he hung out with weren’t so. He knew what they thought about him, so Veneer never bothered…better to be safe and alone…

Right now his focus was just to make it to science in one piece. A few boys walked by shoving him hard against the lockers.

BANG!

His head collided with the door.

“Freak.” He heard them mumble, giggling as they walked away. Veneer waited till they were out of ear shot.

”Idiots.” He mumbled as he fixed his beanie. Grabbing his books, he closed his locker and ran off to class….

A Rageon girl sat on a chair at the front office, her mother inside discussing something with the principal. The girl had light, pinkish skin with medium length magenta hair. Her feet dangled as she waited…Today was her first day here at Rageous High. Her heart pounded. Would the kids be nicer here than the other schools? Would they have accommodations for her here? She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She felt a let tap on her leg, looking up, the girl saw her mother had walked out of the office…The girl adjusted her hearing aid.

”Read for your first day, Neena?” Her mother signed.

“No, I’m nervous. What if they’re mean here too?” Neena signed in return.

“…We have to try. You are strong, brave, and beautiful. Perhaps that one friend will be here waiting for you.”

Neena took a deep breath, “Okay.” She signed with her hands. Her mother bid her farewell as she was shown to her first class…science.

Veneer sat in the back. Out of sight, out of mind, he would tell himself. Today they were to work on some experimentation. Of course the others grouped up, leaving him to himself. He was intrigued in his project, writing down notes when he heard the door of the classroom open. Veneer looked up to see the principal walk in with a Rageon girl at her heel. Veneer had never seen her before, he was sure of it. Was she new?

The teacher signaled her to take a seat in the empty desk in the back. Everyone studied her as she walked, particularly the guys, smirking and smiling at each other.

“Pigs.” Veneer murmured.

She glanced around the classroom with a smile…a little cheerful she seemed to be. Looking at the others, she mimicked their actions as she took out her science book. Confused, she looked around the classroom to see where she could get the supplies for the experiment.

“Okay, Vennie, you can do this…make a friend, make a friend.” He was about to stand up when he saw a group of girls head her way already, “…Nevermind.”

“Hey new girl! Listen we’re going to do you a favor, not everyone in this school is cool.” She coughed and nudged her head towards Veneer.

“….Bitch…” He mumbled under his breath. The new girl stared at the clique in front of her then towards Veneer, she smiled. Flustered he looked away. Great, she’s going to think I’m weird to.

“So as a favor, I’ll let you join our group so you don’t embarrass yourself the first day. How’s that?” The girl smiled….

….Neena saw the lips of the girl moving in front of her, but couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. Nothing but mumbles were escaping the girl's mouth. She saw her signal to a green haired boy sitting towards the back. Neena naturally turned and smiled at him only for him to look away. The girl continued to speak, that much she knew…but Neena couldn’t hear what she was saying…The girl stopped talking, staring at Neena with a smile. Oh no! She must have asked me something! Neena quickly dug through her backpack to look for her pen and notebook, tucking her hair behind her ear…that’s when the other girl saw it…her hearing aid.

“Oh…You’re one of those…Ummm…” The girl said. Neena brought out her notebook and pencil, handing it to the girl with a smile. The girl grimaced.

“…W-w-writtte…” Neena attempted to say, but it must have come out too loud and sounded odd as others in the class turned to face her way. Neena had her mother teach her to try and say some words, especially the word “write”. But being deaf, Neena didn’t know whether she was saying right…or too loud.

“No. Sorry…Nevermind actually.” The girl waved Neena off and walked away… Not, again, Neena thought.

Veneer saw the whole thing happen, he heard the girl utter the word “write” a little too loudly and rather awkwardly. The girl and her clique walked off leaving the new girl with a sad look on her face. Out of all people, he knew what it felt like to be left hanging…

Okay, now is my chance, he stood up from his desk and walked over to her. When he approached her he could see the tears beginning to fall from her face. She quickly wiped it away when she looked up to see him. She gave him a small smile waiting for him to proceed.

You, got this…You got this….

“Hi,ImVeneer, woudyouliketobemypartner!” The words came rolling out like an avalanche, one after the other…word vomit. Crap!

Neena stared at the boy in front of her. He seemed shy yet kind. She saw his lips move ever so quickly, then stopped. Wait? Was he done talking? Did he even say anything? Neena couldn’t make out what he had just told her. It must have taken her a moment too long to answer because she saw his smile drop from his face. Oh no! I ruined it again! She thought to herself. As he began to walk away, she instantly reached up to grab his arm to keep him from leaving. She saw the look of confusion on his face and quickly withdrew. She signaled him to wait as she began to write something down in her notebook.

Veneer cocked his head to the side as she scribbled away. She gave him the notebook and pen with a smile on her face. Taking it in his hands, he looked down to read it…

Hi! I’m Neena. I’m deaf, so I don’t know what you were asking me :( Can you please write it here? If you want.

He looked at her…She seemed to have a hopeful glint in her eyes…Maybe she was like him…Looking for a friend… just someone who would understand her too…He smiled. Taking the pen, he began writing in her notebook…He slid it back to her.

Hi Neena! I’m Veneer. I’m sorry. I word-vomited, that tends to happen when I get nervous. Would you like to be my partner for this project?

Neena read his note, looking at him with a wide smile on her face, she nodded.

“Oh! Um, okay! Give me one moment.” He signaled her as he ran over to his desk to gather his things, moving next to her. Neena kept the notebook in between them so they could write back and forth to each other to communicate…

Do you sign? She had written. A look of genuine confusion crossed his face.

Sign like autographs? He wrote. This caused a giggle to escape Neena’s lips. She shook her head. Instead of writing, she made signals with her hands.

“Oh!! You mean sign language!” He said aloud. She saw the movement of his lips and understood what he had said.

“Yes.” She signed, “Sign language.”

“No.” He shook his head. Neena smiled taking the notebook in her hands once again.

It’s okay! I’ll show you! If you want?

He smiled towards her, “Okay!”

At the end of the day, Neena got into her mothers car…a smile on her face.

“You seem happy. Did everything go okay today sweetie?” Her mother signed.

“Yes.”

“Do you think you’ll like it here?”

Neena looked down at her notebook. For the first time it was filled with notes and silly doodles from a friend…A FRIEND!…. Something she had waited so long for.

“Yes. It’s going to be fun!” She signed.

Veneer waited for his sister out front, a smile on his face…

“What’s with the goofy grin?” She asked as she approached him.

“Vels!” he jumped a little too happily. “I finally made a friend!!”

“...Wait…what do you mean finally…What about those guys you talked about from art and science?” She said.

“......Uuuhhhh….”

“You little liar! So all these months you lied to me about making friends! You lied to mom and dad too!”

“I just didn’t want you guys to worry! You seemed so happy with your group and mom and dad seemed so proud when you finally told them.”

“Gosh Veneer! You’re horrible!” She sighed, taking in a deep breath, “Whatever….who is this new friend…If you’re even telling the truth.”

“I am!! She’s a new girl at school! I have her for my science, gym, math, and art class! Her name is Neena…she’s deaf. Some girls were already giving her a hard time..”

Velvet looked at him. He was always one to sympathize with people who had a hard time making friends, with people who would get bullied…

“So she doesn’t know what a complete weirdo you are yet?” She teased.

“Yeah!!...Wait…” He paused, finally realizing what she had said, “Oh, you’re cruel.”

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