#for one. any glasses on my boy big small round square are forever and always a no for me. like RG is the glasses wearer of the house

[dhmis-autism]

no and bc SPEAKING of humanizations there are a ton of caveats i have for my duck humanization in my own head ykwim?

like i don't know what he looks like but i have a sure grasp in my head of what he DOESN'T look like.

not to say i HATE seeing those traits in other humanizations for sure, but i'm like in my heart thats not how my boy looks to ME. it's fine if he looks that way to YOU though i won't mind.

me when i remember i do have a human RG design but im too embarrassed to share it

[charlesleclerc2003]

Rescued

Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: The reader finally escapes her abusive family covered in cuts and bruises. She unknowingly knocks on Jensen's door and promptly collapses.

Warnings: Assault, passing out, possible TRIGGERING content, hospital, talks of abuse, injuries, blood, scared reader, concerned Daneel and Jensen, Jensen and Daneel adopting reader.

If anyone can think of any warnings I've missed please let me know either in a ask or personal message. I want to make sur that I set Warnings correctly.

Word Count: 1,350

A/N: I thought of this off the top of my head whilst cooking dinner and thought I'd share it with all of you.

Masterlist

Requests are open

Dividers By: @firefly-graphics

Your POV

You stumbled down the road, the screaming of your parents echoing in your ears. Tears steaming down your face you glance back at the hell hole that had been your home for the past Y/A years.

It all started when your parents came back drunk, yet again. Your father had stomped into your room, belt in hand and proceeded to hit you, you had grown accustomed to it. Usually he stopped within a few minuets, but not this time. He just kept hitting, the belt leaving large welts across your back. You tried getting away but he wasn't having any of it. Pulling you back by your hair. Gathering the strength you bring your elbow back into his groin, forcing him off you.

Scrambling to your feet you push towards the front door, only to be stopped by your mother. She had a beer bottle in her hand and started hitting you with it. Breaking immediately, shards of glass dug into your skin. Blood already dripping onto the floor. Shoving her hard, she landed on the glass coffee table knocking her out cold.

Forgoing shoes you threw open the front door and bolted out into the street. The pavement was hot against the soles of your feet, but you didn't care. You would do anything to get away. Your father stuck his head out of the door and started screaming profanities at you, along with your mother. It only succeeded in spurring you on further.

You ran until you could no longer hear their screams , until your lungs burned for air and your muscles screamed in protest. Glancing down at yourself, you saw the multitude of cuts and bruises that littered your body. Even though you were Y/A you were small.

Looking around you found you were in front of a fairly large house. Taking small steps, and stumbling occasionally, you reached the large black door and weakly knocked. Your vision swam as the door was pulled open. There was a tall man stood in grey sweatpants and a black tee stood in the door.

Jensen POV

There was a light knock at the door, too light to be Jared. Getting up I opened it seeing a small girl, littered with cuts, swaying on my doorstep. All of a sudden she collapsed and whacked her head on the frame. Quickly crouching down I checked if she was breathing, letting out a sigh of relief when she was.

Pulling out my phone I called an ambulance.

"Jay? Who is it." Daneel asked walking towards me.

"She just showed up on the door step, Dee she's covered in cuts." I replied trying to rouse the girl. Nothing was working.

I told the 911 call handler what had happened and where we were, whilst Daneel kept the kids away. They didn't need to see this. Before long an ambulance and police pulled up to take the kid to hospital while the police questioned me on what happened.

Your POV

You woke to the annoying sound of beeping in your ear. Groaning you open your eyes only to be met with bright white. Closing them again a soft female voice comes from your right.

"Hey, how you feeling?"

You open your eyes again, turning your head you see warm brown eyes and flowing red hair.

"Sore." You mumble, with a small smile. Glad to finally be away from them. After Y/A years you were free, or so you thought.

"Yeah, I'd imagine you would be. Your parents are in the waiting room, they want to see you."

Your eyes widened, as you shook your head violently.

"No please, don't let them in, please I beg you." Your heart rate sped up as well as your breathing.

"Hey calm down sweetie, we won't send them in if you don't want to see them. Just breathe for a sec." The red haired woman soothed.

Nodding, you sucked in a few heavy breaths, instantly feeling calmer.

"That's it, I'm Daneel but you can call me Dee if you want." You nodded as the door opened and a man walked in. Tensing up you grab Daneel's wrist, as you notice he had something in his hand.

"It's okay, it's only my husband. This is Jensen." Daneel wrapped your hand with hers.

"How are you?" Jensen asked, standing behind Daneel, bending down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

You shrugged, wincing when it pulled at the cuts on your back and chest.

"Her parents want to come in." Jensen whispered to Daneel. You didn't hear already feeling sleepy. Closing your eyes, sleep enveloped you.

Jensen POV

"No don't send her parents in, she freaked out when I told her." Daneel replied, glancing at the now sleeping girl.

"Do you think they did this to her?"

"With her reaction, I'd say yes. Who would do this to their own flesh and blood?" Dee sighed, brushing some hair away from the girls face. A few tears slid down both of our cheeks as we sat in silence.

"What if we adopt her? Then she could have a loving family, one that wouldn't hurt her. That would give her unconditional love." She sniffled, looking up at me.

"Yeah, I think she'd like that." I smiled.

The next few days were long, or they seemed that way at least. We spent the entire time learning everything there was to know about this girl.

Her name was Y/N, she loves the colour Y/F/C, she's always wanted siblings, and a dog. She loved the idea of us adopting her. Her parents signed over custody immediately, with no hesitation.

We brought the kids to meet her, JJ insisted on calling Y/N het big sister already and Zeppelin and Arrow quickly warmed up to her. Jared came round with Gen and met her, they left the kids with Jared's parents so Y/N didn't get overwhelmed.

When the time came to take Y/N home Dee's parent's took the kids so she could settle in. She had a room close to ours, In case she had a nightmare. So far if one of us was in the room with her she would sleep peacefully.

We ordered pizza and watched tv for a while until Y/N fell asleep in my lap, my fingers running gently through her hair.

6 Months Later

Your POV

You've been with the Ackles for six months now, and they've been the best six months of your life. They even threw you a birthday party, you've never had a birthday party before. Everyone accepted you so quickly, it was like you had always been a part of their family.

Sure there had been setbacks, like when Jensen's brother, Josh, met you the first time. He had came at you a bit too quickly and frightened you. You hid behind Jensen shaking for a while until Jensen calmed you. Now it was like that had never happened, Josh was always telling you funny stories about Jensen.

Or when you went up to Vancouver for the first time, to watch Jensen film. The yelling and noises sent you back almost all the way back to square one. From then on Jensen always made sure that if you were with him that during those scenes you were in either his or Jared's trailer.

For all the set backs, there has been massive steps forward. Like calling Jensen dad for the first time. There were lots of tears spilled and lots of hugs given, the same with calling Daneel mom for the first time.

The first time you went to a party or brought a boy home, those were especially big occasions.

You finally had a normal and happy life. With a family that didn't want to hurt you. One that loved you for who you were, they treated you like a person rather than a punching bag.

More importantly they treated you like you were their daughter. That was something you had never had, but now you had it you wouldn't change it for anything. They had rescued you, and for that you were forever thankful.

TAGS: @sofreddie @hybrid-in-progress

[uwua3]

golden boy.

🌸🌷 sakuma sakuya

summary: summer was sakuma sakuya—forever your golden boy

warnings: angst, flings, ocean, summer romance, unrequited/temporary love

author’s note: please help i am going through sakuya brainrot because of a certain someone (you know who you are) who spammed me with lucifer! sakuya !! in order to prevent it, here’s a self indulgent angst one shot about summer fling! sakuya ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ��₎ (why is my automatic response to write angst that Hurts My #Feelings,,, okay???)

below are multiple quotes about summer that made me think of golden boy sakuya himself! :D

word count: 1,913

music: animal crossing – shawn wasabi, sophia black

“All in all, it was a never to be forgotten summer — one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going — one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.” — L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams

There’s something about summer—it’s more a feeling than a season, isn’t it?

At least, that’s how you felt about Sakuma Sakuya. Golden boy himself who instantly warmed your skin with a slight touch, the god of sunlight who lived in a world where it was always June. That was who Sakuya was to you: a fleeting, sickly sweetness that left too quickly. Anything was possible during summer, where the days overlapped one another and stretched into infinity. That was your only time with Sakuya.

“How are you, my golden boy?” You murmured lazily upon the balcony, sweat slick against your forehead and it felt like you were in the deep end of a pool. Barely breathing with this humidity, suffocating on an empty promise that only held true in the last few summer months. Regardless of the suddenness from your absoluely perfect nickname for him, you could hear Sakuya’s genuine, light laugh from beside you.

“Couldn’t be better.” Sakuya whispered back, as if he couldn’t dare break the hazy daydream keeping you two together. He only bumped his elbow into yours, it reminded you how little you needed to move to make him yours. You could only imagine how gorgeous he must’ve been with a blush across his sunset–lit face, so you reached your hand out to take his. It was shaking slightly, but Sakuya squeezed back anyways with a light press of a kiss to your knuckles. His lips must’ve tasted of ripe strawberries and juicy watermelon, which you would confirm soon with a smile.

With the smell of celebration in the air, the indescribable setting of idleness meeting hopeless dreams, and a fling only the sun would bear witness too, you were certain of one thing and one thing only. Summer was Sakuma Sakuya—forever your golden boy.

“Summertime is always the best of what might be” — Charles Bowden

Life was beginning again all because your golden boy, and you could slowly forget who you were before this summer. Until, it stayed, reminding you of how soon this would all end like the noisy cicadas. Just like a warning, that summertime could not last forever even with the son of the sun himself.

That evening, the ocean spoke in tongues you couldn’t understand, curling around your bare ankles with the guidance of the full moon. Unprecendented mysteries beneath the waves, nothingness that cost lives to be discovered, and secrets taken to the grave were just beyond your reach. All past your fingertips brushing against the salty water as it retreated into the depths of the unknown. Sand molded around your feet seemed to take you in deeper and deeper, willing you to stay in this summer bliss forever.

But, it was June. A day of hanging by the beachside in perfect weather, a blue sky above with no clouds, and savoring the time you two had together made for memories you’ll never forget. Perhaps it was how that seashell you kept in your hand matched his eyes, or how it felt in the moment to go underwater with him hand in hand, but you sighed softly into another sunset. Summer went too soon, and like a fool, you wished for more time.

Feeling a gentle lingering touch against your shoulder, his hand rested upon your skin, unaware of how you burned guiltily from his summer love. Sakuya sat down as well, taking a second to appreciate the quiet intimacy you both shared. The sun was setting during golden hour, the ocean was painted in a dreamy shade of purple pastels, and more pretty souvenirs of sea glass surrounded you. It was perfect—he was perfect.

“We should head back home.” You slowly said after a while, to which Sakuya hummed something akin to disagreement before resting his head against your shoulder. You subconsciously wrapped your arm around him, delicately toying with the salt–dried strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. Sakuya wanted this feeling to last for the rest of his life: romance bursting alive like the world when it was summer, hot and fiery, everything it was meant to be.

“Stay with me.” Sakuya turned his head to mumble in the space of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your collarbones. You knew his words had a double meaning, that spending the night was just a small part of what Sakuya really desired. Ever the hopeless romantic, Sakuya dreamt of a year–round, committed relationship with his fated soulmate. But, you weren’t his for a lifetime, just this summer.

So you ignored his demand and instead replaced the dwindling newfound freedom of responsibility with a temporary love, standing up and putting your hand out. You both knew what your answer meant deep down inside, and Sakuya should’ve ran away, but he gently took your hand anyways. Walking away from where the waves met the shore, you two headed to your place in the humid summer heat, laughing and smiling like you two weren’t mortals on borrowed time.

When you kissed your golden boy made of sweet nothings, temporary fixes, and momentary love that night, you saw summer and only summer.

“You are so much sunshine in every square inch.” — Walt Whitman

Sakuma Sakuya—to you, perhaps those were the two most beautiful words in the Japanese language. Whenever you said his name, it tasted like sticky, melted ice cream and a wave of happiness embraced you like a sunny afternoon. His existence itself was a simple joy, one you could never have enough of; he came near the definition of perfection in this imperfect world.

It was... easy, being with Sakuya. You liked it—the frequent, meaningful displays of affection that held all the love in the world, the light shimmer of dreaminess that came with his thoughtful, gentle words, the impulsive willingness to do anything and everything for acceptance in return. You knew Sakuya loved this (you) to an unhealthy, unexpected level, that he woke up and jumped out of bed to see you and wished on every dandelion to sleep in your arms. It was the romance of it all, the possibility that your chance encounter was a product of destiny. He often sleepily giggled about soulmates, and when he gave you that innocent look under the stars, you didn’t have the heart to disagree.

Tonight was one of those nights. The sheets messily tangled around your bodies, clothes from this busy morning wrinkled from wearing them all day. His shirt was too big, and his baseball cap was still on your head; it was so mismatched but somehow, it worked out. The puzzle pieces fit despite the oddness of it all, and you liked his intricacies. The comforter was thrown on the floor at this point, the windows were open with a light breeze swaying the translucent white curtains. The moon glowed from up above with the constellations watching your summer romance painfully fizz out like a firecracker.

Sakuya was playing with your fingers, his hands delicately holding yours as he rambled about anything that made his day. You diligently listened, savoring every word that escaped his lips as you laid on your side. July was beautiful on him, even though he was a creation of spring. His half–lidded eyes sparkled despite yawning, and when he looked into yours, he grinned and moved in closer. Sakuya slowly held your hand tighter, curling up in bed to face you. He rested your joined hands between you two, watching and admiring your ethereal shine.

You knew what he wanted to say so desperately, the three words that would change everything. Before Sakuya could start, you pulled him into a tight hug and closed your eyes, mumbling a, “Good night, golden boy”. He ran his fingers through your hair, sighing contently as you two dozed off to greet a new summer dawn.

This was Sakuya’s first ever taste of love, and boy was it sweet. But, for you, this was just another pastime you knew would go too soon.

“Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. But when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: They are shooting stars-a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they’re gone.” — Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

Sakuya was forever curious, innocently naive about anything that slightly piqued his interest. So, when he asked a question on an everchanging summer’s night, you realized it was August.

“What are we?”

You inhaled the nostalgia brimming in the festival atmostphere, the crowds apart of a distant background that couldn’t hide you from the inevitable. Sakuya looked so, so pretty in his newest yukata, the cherry blossom design highlighting his bright hair and eyes underneath the glow of the paper lanterns. But, his face was uncertain as he glanced upon your expression to find some idealistic truth. You didn’t let it show, just cast your gaze against the night sky, waiting for the annual fireworks show upon a grassy picnic blanket.

It was something you could tell Sakuya wanted an answer to for a long, long time. Maybe before the start of summer even, when catching one another’s eye lasted too long, or when you’d always find yourself in his room a little too late. It was a response you wish you could bottle up and throw into the ocean, watch it sail away into the abyss with no remaining evidence of its impact. But, you couldn’t do that. It was nearing the end of summer, and you knew this would be one of the last times you could see Sakuya was more than a friend.

“We’re...” You started before a firework exploded above. The surrounding groups reacted with awe, staring at the vibrant night lights with buzzing excitement. Even Sakuya fell victim to the firework’s spell, his big eyes reflecting the sparks with a starstruck smile. You couldn’t bring yourself to continue, instead swallowing the rejection and sneaking glances at his side profile. He looked so happy, so distracted, you couldn’t remind him summer was over along with the fireworks.

When Sakuya turned his head towards you, a wavering, scared smile graced his lips. He spoke, but the fireworks cut him off. Sakuya’s face was illuminated by neon shades of the rainbow, as festival goers cheered for an encore. You knew he said those three little words that meant everything to him, so boldly and proudly like it would change your relationship with him.

You attempted to blink away the tears, but Sakuya worriedly cupped your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the singular tear that trailed down your face. Before he could ask what was wrong, you placed your hand over his with a sad, sad smile.

“I’ll miss you, golden boy.” You weren’t overshadowed by the fireworks this time, and Sakuya smiled, too, despite the tears. He suddenly understood what you meant, and repeated himself.

“I love you, I’ll always love you beyond summer.”

Summer was Sakuma Sakuya—but, he was no longer your golden boy.

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Redemption of Ceara Chapter 8

Written by: Braxxus

Chapter 8: She Was One of My Best Students

Sometimes the future leads to the past

     “The hall of records is on sub level D of the college administration sector.” The golem spoke in an electronic voice.

     “Ok, but how do I get there?” Amaranda asked it.

     “Follow descending ramp D to Elevator 3C, then follow descending ramp B-“

     “That doesn’t tell me anything!” she said raising her voice. “You asura have nothing marked here! How in Tyria does one find their way around in this city?” She slapped the information golem on top of its chassis.

     “Alert…repeated assault will result in alerting the authorities.” It barked.

     She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I hate these places.” She sighed. She looked around the immediate area. The Asura were everywhere, running about, showing off their latest inventions to each other, talking of gadgets and theories that Amaranda didn’t have the slightest knowledge about.

     “Will someone please help me?” she asked out loud. “Anyone!?” Her pleas went seemingly ignored by the general populace. Sighing, she started walking through the city, looking for any other Sylvari, human or any other race that might be able to offer some assistance since it seemed the Asura were too preoccupied with anything and everything. It wasn’t long before she found a rampway that descended to the lower level of the city.

     “The golem said descending ramp D…” she said to herself looking around for any kind of markings. There were none. “Well, I guess I’ll take my chances. I’ll either find what I’m looking for or I’ll be be lost in the bowels of this city forever.” she said as she walked down the ramp. The ramp exited out into what looked like a small market area.

     “Oh, thank the pale tree!” she exclaimed as she spied two humans together near one of the stands. “Excuse me! I’d like to talk to you!” she exclaimed as she hurried over to them.

     “Yes?” one asked turning towards her.

     “I hope you can help me. I seem to be lost in this twisted maze of a city.”

     One of the humans chuckled a little. Amaranda’s face went deadpan. “What is so funny?” she asked.

     “It’s easy to get lost here. What are you looking for?” the other asked.

     “I’m trying to find information on one of the students that studied here. I’m told that there is a ‘hall of records’ that would give me such information. Do you know where it might be?” The duo looked at each other momentarily with puzzled looks. They turned back and shrugged a little.

     “I’m sorry, Miss, but we don’t know where that might be.” Amaranda’s glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished. Again, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh, slowly shaking her head. “Did you try one of the information golems?” one of them asked.

     “Indeed, I did. It was of no help either.” she said walking away.

     “I’ll help you” a gruff voice said from nearby. Amaranda turned to see an older Asura walking up to her.

     “I thank you. Can you take me to the hall of records?”

     “Indeed I can. Follow me.” He started walking away from her.

     “Finally.” She sighed and followed behind him.  “Can you tell me your name, kind sir?” she asked.

     “Varvar.” he responded. “and yours?”

     “Amaranda.”

     “And what brought you to Rata Sum?”

     “I’m on a search for information about one of the students that attended the schools here.”

     “Oh?” He asked. “Well, who might this person be?”

     “Well, My sister.”

     He stopped walking, pausing for a moment before slowly turning towards her. “Sister?”

     “Yes, sister-”

     “There’s only been one Sylvari who attended these colleges.” He interrupted, a look of disdain on his face.

     “I know, and…she’s…”

     “She tried to fit a square block into a round hole and it drove her mad. Why are you looking for her information? You should know everything about her already, shouldn’t you?”

     “I need to find her teacher.”

     “Omadd is dead.” He responded.

     “Yes, I know. But she had others. Please help me. It’s very important.”

     He nodded his head and took a deep breath. “Ok, come on.”

     “She wasn’t a bad person before…” Amaranda started. “She just…just…just got lost somewhere…”

     “On her way to the Eternal Alchemy, and ‘lost’ is an understatement, but I’ll take your word for it.” Varvar replied. “But her actions speak for themselves. The things she did. I can guarantee they’ll never be forgotten nor forgiven.” Amaranda fell silent, sadness passing over her as she thought about how Ceara may never have true peace after her traumatic ordeal. It wasn’t long before they approached a teleport tube.

     “Here we are. This will take you down to the proper level.”

     “What is this?”

     “It’s a teleport chute. You haven’t used these before?”

     “I’m sorry, but not in a very long time. I do not spend much time in the cities.”

     “A country bumpkin, are you? Just step in and it will instantly take you to where we want to go.”

     Amaranda thought about the warp gates she had to use recently. “I hate these things.” she said out loud, stepping into the chute. In the blink of an eye she was standing in another part of the city, somewhat unsteady as she looked at her new surroundings. Varvar appeared next to her.

     “See? Not so bad.” He quipped as he started walking. “Come on, this way.”

     “Are we close?” she asked taking in the sites of the area. Glowing holograms floated in the air around various kinds of terminals. Asura working relentlessly on their gadgetry, surrounded by equipment that beeped and chirped constantly in a myriad of tones.

     “We’re getting there.” Varvar replied.

     “I can see why she was fascinated with being here.” Amaranda quipped. “All this…this equipment and technology.”

     “We’re always on the move. Everyone is looking for the next big thing. Trying to be the next big name. I gave up on that a long time ago. Too stressful. Decided to just be me.”

     “I see.”

     “Your sister could have been something great…well…great in a good way, had the council listened to her.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “She studied the Eternal Alchemy in such great capacity, that she was able to ordain information that no Asura had ever determined. She presented her findings to the Arcane Council, and they accused her of blasphemy. They rejected her findings. And yet, now they use her research to their advantage.”

     “They stole her research from her?”

     “Yep. And put their names on it. Those stiffs at the top couldn’t stand the fact that a Sylvari, who they consider to be somewhat primitive in thought, could actually glean more information about the Eternal Alchemy than any Asura.”

     “That explains why she turned to the Inquest.”

     “Possibly, but they didn’t help either. They betrayed her as well, and that got her ejected from the colleges.”

     “I see.” Amaranda fell silent as she thought about her sister. “It seems all your life you were met with tragedy and disappointment. Your search for a better understand of life seemingly always lead you down the wrong path. Ceara…I promise it won’t always be like this. It will be better.” She thought to herself.

     “You’ve become awfully quiet back there.” Varvar grunted.

     “I’m sorry. Just a lot on my mind at the moment.”

     “Mhm. Anyway, one entrance to the hall of records is just up ahead. It might be a little tough to convince them to let us view her records, though. They don’t let just anyone access the record files, but I might be able to persuade them if they are reluctant.” As they approached the entrance, one of the guards stepped forward.

     “Varvar, what are you doing here?” the guard asked.

     “We came for tea and bread. Didn’t you get the invite?” Varvar retorted sarcastically. The guard looked at him, obviously not amused.

     “What do you really want?”

     “We just need to check some records. Why else would we be here?”

     The guard eyed Amaranda momentarily. “Alright.” he finally replied. “Just don’t cause any trouble.” The duo entered the facility. Amaranda looked around at all the Asura technology lining the walls. Varvar approached an Asura wearing large glasses sitting behind a desk. Large screens floated in the air around him.

     “What is it this time, Varvar?” he asked.

     “Nice to see you again too, Krugg.” Varvar retorted. “We need to see the records of a certain student.” Krugg looked up from the desk at Amaranda.

     “A sylvari? If this has something to do with who I think it is, that is off limits. Those records are sealed permanently. Only Councilor Flax can order those files unsealed.”

     “You can’t even give us a peek?”

     “Please, sir. It’s of vital importance. More people will suffer and die if we are not allowed to see that information.” Amaranda interjected.

     “No can do. Now go away. As you can see, I’m extremely busy.” Krugg said sternly, turning back to his screens.

     “Psshh…you won’t even help save the world? Imagine the fame and notoriety you will gain!”

     “What are you talking about?”

     “Imagine the fate of the Tyria hanging in the balance on this very moment.” Varvar said slyly. “But then the world erupts into flames because you refused to allow us to view those records. But if you did…why you could be deemed savior of Tyria!”

     Krugg glanced at Varvar, who was smirking confidently.

     “I think you’re lying.” Krugg retorted. “Now get out of here before I call security.”

     “Oh?” replied Varvar. “How about I make you a deal. You let us see those files, and I won’t reveal your nightly activities.”

     Krugg looked at Varvar, slightly concerned.

     “That party. It’s not wise for college personel, especially members of higher caliber such as yourself., to partake of…what did you call it?  Wing Dings?”

     “I never…” Krugg’s sentence was cut short by Varvar’s finger on his mouth.

     “You let us see those files and no one will ever know.”

     “How did you know!?” Krugg asked exasperatedly, trying to keep his voice down.

     “Eyes and ears on the street, my boy.” Varvar replied smugly, his smirk growing on his face. “Now is our ‘paperwork’ in order?”

     Krugg breathed in deep. “Fine.” He said through gritted teeth. “It seems your ‘paperwork’ IS in order. Follow me.” He said loudly.  Varvar winked at Amaranda and gave her a thumbs up. Krugg lead them to another room with a terminal similar in design but smaller than the one he was using. He started typing on the glowing keyboard.

     “You better be right about this saving the world business, Varvar.” He said agitated.

     “Oh I am. You just wait and see. The fate of the world hangs on this moment.” He turned to Amaranda and winked again. She smiled back lightly and then gasped as an image of a younger Ceara appeared on the screen. She brought her hand up to her chest.

     “Something the matter?” Varvar asked confusingly.

     “I…I didn’t realize how adorable she was with roses in her foliage, that’s all.” Amaranda replied.

     “Yes, adorable. Krugg, we need a list of the teachers that taught her.”

     Krugg typed in a command and text started filling the screen. “Hmm…Stigga seems to be the teacher you want.” Varvar said reading over the information. “He has the most knowledge of what she studied here.”

     “You mean the Eternal Alchemy?” Krugg replied snarkly.

     “No need to get uppity, Krugg. Remember you’re saving the world here.”

     “I thank you.” Amaranda replied. “Where I might find him?”

     “He’s at the College of Synergetics. I’ll take you there.”

     “Oh thank you!” she quipped.

     “Don’t mention it. And Krugg, remember you just saved all of Tyria. Good job!” Varvar said pointing finger guns at the younger Asura.

     “So what are ‘wing-dings’?” Amaranda asked as they left the building.

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

     Ceara wasted no time travelling through the countryside of the human kingdom of Kryta. She was heading east towards the Shiverpeak Mountains to visit a familiar cave that lay underneath the Durmond Priory in the hopes of finding anything that might help her. A kind farmer had given her a lift part of the way, taking her into the rolling hills of Gendarran Fields. She could see the piled wreckage of the gateway to Lion’s Arch in the distance when she decided to disembark from the farmer’s carriage.

     “Thank you, farmer.” She said quietly, handing him a few coins.

     “Anytime, stranger. I appreciated the company. Be safe out there. Centaurs and bandits are all around.”

     “I will.” She replied as she started walking towards the Lion’s Arch gate. As she approached, she took pause, looking over the refugee camp in the distance. An emptiness filled her chest as she looked down at her hands.

     “I did this…” she said to herself. She pulled the hood of her cloak in close and started walking towards the camp. She could make out an asura gate on the far end. She circled the edge of the camp, keeping her distance, watching the refugees and Lionguard move about. She paused as a child’s laughter caught her ear.

     “In times such as this, there is still joy to be found by innocence.” She closed her eyes and sighed deeply before continuing towards the gate. Looking at the Lionguard members guarding the portal, she quickly thought of a plan to get through. She pulled the scarf up over her mouth, holding it in place, coughing sporadically.

     “Halt.” One of the Lionguard ordered. “Where are you going?”

     “Durmond Priory.” She coughed, holding her hand over her mouth. The Lionguardsman looked concerned.

      “Were you exposed to the gas?”

     “Yes.” She coughed. “But I got out before it got too bad.”

     “Then you should be resting. Not out moving about.”

     “I know, sir. But I need to pass through. I…I have family on the other side.” She coughed.

     The guard paused a moment before sighing. “Ok. Just be careful.”

     “Thank you, sir.” She said quietly as she passed through the gate.  

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     Varvar led Amaranda through the halls of the College of Synergetics. It was almost too overwhelming for her. Asura were everywhere, talking about things she had never heard of, showing off their inventions to their classmates.

     “How in Tyria can you asura tolerate all this…this…this chaos?” she asked Varvar.

     “It’s easy if you just ignore most of it.” He replied. He led her into the administration area of the college. There was an asuran female tending to a console.

     “Yes?” she spoke in a snide tone as the duo approached, barely acknowledging their presence.

     “We’re looking for Professor Stigga. Is he in?” Varvar asked rather cheerfully.

     “Yes, fourth office on the left.” Her voice rather monotone.

     “Thank you!” he replied. They started moving past the console.

     “Wait a minute!” the clerk said raising her voice. They turned to see her tapping at another screen, still staring at her console. “Sign in please.” Varvar quickly typed in their names before continuing on their way.

     “She didn’t even look at us. It’s as if we just ruined her day by coming here.” Amaranda noted.

     “When you’re stuck at a dead-end job as a clerk, it sort of ruins your perspective on life.” He replied. “Ah, here we are. Stigga’s office” Standing in the doorway, they could see an older asura sitting at a desk, various holographic screens floating around him. A small golem hovered nearby. The asura turned to them, looking over his glasses.

     “Can I help you?” he asked in an authoritative voice.

     “Hello, Stigga. How’s it going?” Varvar asked in a jolly tone.

     “What do you want, Varvar?”

     “This Sylvari is looking for information on one of your former students.” Varvar replied. Stigga paused from typing on of the screens for a moment before slowly turning towards them.

     “Is this about who I think it is?” He asked sternly.

     “It’s about Ceara, sir.” Amaranda replied. Stigga took a deep breath.

     “You best not bother about that one. She was very bright, one of my best students, but her ways were very unorthodox.”

     “But sir, we’re trying to find out what happened to her in that machine. What did she see?”

     “We all know what happened to her in that device. It shattered her mind. That’s common knowledge.”

     “Yes, but…her ghost…I’ve seen it. It’s powerful, with some plan to do something terrible. We need to figure out how to stop it. Please sir, can you help us?” Amaranda pleaded. Stigga stared at her for a moment.

     “Very well, follow me. I’m going to introduce you to two of my students who I am sure would be glad to help you.” Stigga lead them to another part of the college nearby. They entered a small lab that was filled with gadgets and paperwork everywhere. Two asura, a male and a female, were working at a workbench in the middle of the room.

     “Front and center, you two.” Stigga ordered. The two asura looked up at him.

     “What did we do now?” the male asked.

       “Just get over here. You’re going out in the field. This sylvari has a ghost problem and you two are going to help her solve it.”

     “YES!!” the female one exclaimed excitedly. “This lab was becoming a bit too stuffy!” They walked over and stood in front of Stigga. Stigga then turned to Amaranda.

     “Shikijo and Joujou will be more than willing to help you in whatever you need.” He said to her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.” He left the lab.

     “Well, now that you have the help you need, I’ll be taking my leave as well.” Varvar said.

     “Thank you, Varvar. You have been a great help.” Amaranda said.

     “It was nothing. Good luck in whatever it is you are trying to do.” He said as he walked out of the lab.

     “So, sylvari, what is your name?” asked the female.

     “Amaranda. Nice to meet you.” Amaranda replied.

     “I’m Joujou, and this is Shikijo. So, what kind of ghost problem do you have? Seems unusual for a sylvari to have a ghost problem.”

     “It’s Scarlet Briar. She’s gaining power through the use of chaos energy and has some kind of plan to use it to strengthen the jungle dragon. We need to figure out how to stop her.”

     There was a long silence as the duo looked at Amaranda somewhat dumbfounded. “THE Scarlet Briar? The Terror of Tyria? The same that destroyed Lion’s Arch? Are you sure?”

     “Yes, quite sure.” Amaranda replied.

     “Um…oh, this is…is a lot bigger than we anticipated.” Shikijo said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

     “We accept the challenge!” Joujou exclaimed excitedly. “Let’s get this show on the road!” The duo ran through the lab grabbing up equipment.

     “Grab the spectrometer.”

     “Got it, what about the psychoenergetic analyzer.”

     “Yes, we need that. Where is it?”

     “Um…in that box maybe?...What about over there?”

     “Found it. Oh hey. I also found that lost photon reversal thermodongler we’ve been looking for.

     “Well put it someplace where we’ll find it.”

     “That’s what we did last time and we still lost it.”

     When they were finished racing around the lab they approached Amaranda. “So where are we headed!?” asked Shikijo.

     “Um..well, it moves around a lot. It’s been in Lion’s Arch, Kessex Hills, Divinity’s Reach for sure. Other places as well it seems.” Amaranda told them.

     “Hmm…Lion’s Arch is where she supposedly died. Let’s start there.” Joujou said. “So, Amaranda, anything we should know about this ghost?”

     “It’s very hostile. It’s as if….” Amaranda paused.

     “As if?” Shikijo asked.

     “As if…Ceara’s madness gained its own sentience and manifested itself.” Amaranda said quietly.

     “Ah, so it’s not so much a ghost, but a part of that sylvari’s mind.” Joujou said thoughtfully.

     “Uh…yes. I think so.”

     “Ha, this will be a cakewalk.” Joujou replied confidently. “Let’s go bust us a ghost!”

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

     Ceara exited the asura gate led to the old dwarven ruins that now housed the Durmand Priory. The Priory was a studious institution that collected, researched, and stored magical artifacts and texts in large underground storage chambers to protect them from the dragons, or anything else with malicious intent.  In the mountain side below the Priory was the cave that led to her lair where she stayed while under the control of the jungle dragon. She pulled her cloak in close as the wind in the mountains whipped by her. She was thankful she had built in a small portable heat unit in the power pack to her armor to keep her warm when needed. She paused a moment as she looked over another refugee camp that was set up below the base of the Priory. She closed her eyes for a moment, a tear running down her cheek. She took a deep breath and made her way through the camp cautiously. People hundled together around campfires, wrapped in blankets, eating food from tin cans.

     “I’m sorry…” she whispered to herself. She passed by a post that had a wanted poster of her stuck to it. Various knives and other sharp implements stuck in it. She pulled her cloak closer and made her way to the entrance of the cave. She paused, a flood of memories flashed through her mind. Memories of a time she called this cave her home.

     “This would be so much easier had my teleporter not fried.” She thought entering the cave. “I remember there being a lot of beasties in here. Especially that giant ice worm.” She cautiously made her way down into the cave, which was surprisingly clear. She felt a tad uneasy about it. “Something or someone has been through here.” She murmured to herself as she struck up a small light from one of her satchels. She made it to the edge of the frozen pond that was deep within the cavern. The entrance to her former lair was on the other side. She could hear the ice worms slithering about under the ice.

     “1…2…3!” she darted across the ice. It groaned and cracked under her feet as she ran trying not to lose her footing. The ice exploded behind her as one of the worms crashed through trying to have her as a meal. Mere moments seemed to be an eternity when she finally reached the far side, clamoring as fast as she could up the rocky incline.

     “Well, that was easier than I thought.” She said catching her breath. She was cut short by a noise behind her. She turned to see a figure in the darkness up ahead, holding a torch. It grunted and snarled as it approached her.

     “A troll. I seem to remember they had a dwelling nearby.” She pulled out the pistol she took from her aetherblade assaulter and fired a shot at it. It howled and ran back the way it came. She hurried to the small alcove where the entrance to her lair was located. She paused, noticing the fake holographic wall that hid the entrance was inactive, and the heavy steel door sat opened. Cautionsly, she looked around the entrance before slowly stepping in. The room was dark, activating the switch that powered the few lights did nothing.

     “Thorns…” she whispered. She adjusted the small lamp she held to be as bright as possible. With its light, she was able to make out most of the small cave. Most of her things were gone, with only the rough furniture remaining. All of her notes and drawings, all of her equipment, all missing. Looking up at the ceiling, she saw the red painting of a serpentine dragon that she had painted in her madness. Omadd’s picture still hung in the corner, though the daggers she had stabbed in his eyes were long gone. She slowly raised her hand and lightly dragged her fingers down his face, a mix of anger and sorrow forming in the pit of her stomach.

     “Because of you…I saw it…I saw the Eternal Alchemy…” she remembered that fateful day. Overzealous to finally be able to see the subject of her study. Not knowing what lay in wait for her within it. The face of her creator. She breathed in deeply before she turned to her chair, which still sat in its place, though the console and screen she had were missing as well. She put her hand on the armrest and stared at it before looking over at one of her workbenches. She smiled at the fact that they had even taken the drawing of the rocket propelled dolyak she had wanted to make.

     “I really wanted to make that thing. I could have made it work.” She muttered to herself. “Well…there’s nothing of use to me here.” She sighed as she thought about what transpired in this room months prior. “Just nightmares…and painful memories.”  She walked towards the door, thinking of her next option.

     “It’s a long way to Prosperity.”  

[greenninjagal-blog]

Its Always Been This Way (Hasn’t It?)

So….anyone up for some Witchy Sides? Welcome to my biggest Project to date: a Hogwarts au! This is my sweet, sweet child that I’ve been working on for forever and I thought its time I shared.

Pairings: DLAMP, LAMP, Anxceit, 

Words: 2032 (This is going to be multichaptered)

Summary:  Virgil had been so happy to be a Hufflepuff. He had never thought it was going to end up being a death sentence. 

(Aka, Two boys curse themselves to a terrible fate in order to save the world. Maybe they wouldn’t have quite so many regrets if they hadn’t fallen in love with the same three boys in the middle of it.)

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @treasureofpriam @whizzie72

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

At approximately four thirty one, on any given Thursday during the school year in which this story takes place, one would find the scene in the courtyard as such: a crowd of fifteen year olds pooled around in a wide circle shoving and laughing with each other as another two students stood in the middle toe to toe. Flutters of colors would be found all around, but a majority of them would be green and yellow, with dashes of red from the loudest of the peers and tickets of blue from those on the barest outskirts.

The boys in the center would be found to have a striking dichotomy between them: the one that was taller (by a few inches) would have a neatly tucked shirt, with his green and silver tie shining in the sunlight, a smug smirk on his lips and his robes finely pressed and trimmed to his perfect height; the other would be found with an untucked shirt of a faded cream color, a yellow tie that hadn’t been tied correctly in several years, along with dark eyeshadow and robes that were too short thrown haphazardly over a dark sweatshirt that was patched up in several places with plaid purple.

One would also find on any given Thursday, them snarling insults at each other, a hand in either pocket, squeezing wands made with Olivander’s finest craftmanship, and both a mere twitch of the wrist away from beginning an illegal duel on Hogwarts grounds.

None of this would be very new. It would seem as if every week the two would find something to argue about, to fight about, to risk expulsion from the esteemed magic school over. Throughout the years such things would have seemed to have costed their respective school houses a great deal of points, but no punishment would have had been fit enough to keep the boys from squabbling.

If one would have asked any member of the crowd what had happened between the boys which would have left them so hostile toward one another, they would receive many variations of the same answer: “That’s just how they’ve always been, mate.”

At the same time, should one have been skimming the courtyard while the boys engaged in their verbal sparring, they would have noticed Patton Hart sitting on the half wall just outside the edges of the crowd, watching with a nervous expression and wringing his blue and black tie through his fingers. 

Patton Hart would not be a very intimidating person. In fact, he was most likely to be last on the list of people who were intimidating (should such a list be made). His glasses would be comically big and round, and his smattering of freckles would have been enough for him to seem harmless, but the boyish nature of his smile and the roundness of his face would cement the idea into any stranger’s mind. At fifteen years old, he would still appear to be just finishing middle school. 

If one were to start a conversation with Patton at any point, they would be surprised to find that he was in the house of Ravenclaw, much less to find out that he was the nephew of the wand maker Jimmy Kidde,l himself, and had grown up surrounded by magic. There would be a certain excitement he would display at acts of magic, a certain wonderment that one would have expected him to have grown out of by now. But the facts would stand as such: Patton would be from a pureblood family and he would love magic the way that a drowning person would love the air.

To his left one would find Logan Ackroyd: a stiff, consistently irritated looking student who would also wear a blue tie, although his would appear to be his most treasured possession. Not a spec of dirt would be found near it nor frayed strand or awkward crease. His glasses would be sensibly square and black and professional, and his robes would be rolled up to his elbows. One would find two separate stacks of books keeping the distance between him and Patton, and a roll of parchment in the young man’s lap where he would be scribbling out an essay with a black fountain pen.

One would not be surprised to find that he was a Ravenclaw: he would rarely make time for others and would dread polite pleasantries the way children dreaded the process of de-gnoming the gardens. His tone would often suggest that he was the smartest person in any given room– a compliment in a school of witchcraft and wizardry when he, himself, would be only half magical and would have had a late start learning the tricks of the magical world.

If one watched for long enough, they would even witness the form of Roman Prince barreling from the conjoining steps around the side of the castle, racing from the flying fields, robes scratched and dirty with holes in the hem, and his red and gold tie sticking out of his pocket. He would reportedly be a dashing sort of fellow: smooth skin and brown eyes that glittered with boldface bravery, his hair would always be mused and tussled and somehow that would leave his female peers swooning over him. Or perhaps that would be attributed to his flirtatious personality and his chivalrous upbringing, as he would have been taught from a young age that all ladies loved to feel like a princess at least once and that it was his duty to provide for them. 

One might even watch as Roman flung himself over the stack of books between the other boys, dripping with sweat and out of breath, and uttering between gasps, “Did I miss anything?”

“Roman!” Logan would snap just before the book stacks would sway and nearly tumble over if it would not have been for Patton flinging an arm out hold them up. “Watch it!”

“Relax poindexter,” Roman would say and offer a smile at Patton, “Hey Padre, whats up with Ekans and Storm?”

Patton would nervously glance at the jarring crowd again, and he’d explain, “Dee spread a rumor that Virgil is scared of the ghosts, and so Virgil hit him with the dancing feet jinx and it took half an hour to undo.”

“Oh good,” Roman would respond, “I didn’t miss anything.”

Just as he always would have had.

Logan would, of course, then mutter about how childish the two in the center of the group were, prompting a hefty sigh from Roman and a curious glance from Patton.

“What do you mean?”

And Logan would tap the end of his pen on his parchment, followed by rolling up the scroll and would wave vaguely at the jostling crowd. “This! We are fifth years! Surely by now they should have grown out of their rivalry!”

“What, like you and Patton?” Roman would say with a teasing elbow at the other.

“Yes!” Logan would respond smacking his arm away. “It’s ridiculous at this point, a slandering on the great Hogwarts name! Imagine if this is allowed to continue after the OWLs? In the work force?”

Patton then would release his tie from his hands and flex his fingers in the air with a nervous little laugh, “It is kinda silly. But can you imagine what it would be like if they never bickered at all?”

“Of course!” Logan would start, “They’d–” He would then pause, slightly ruffled, and then he’d adjust his glasses, “Pardon me, I seemed to have forgotten what I was going to say. I supposed you are correct, Patton. It would likely be similar that one week a few months ago, when they managed four days without a confrontation and then got into a fistfist that cost both their houses a large quantity of points and put you in the hospital wing.” 

And Patton would have a response to that, a dismissive, water under the bridge sort of comment, but he and the others would be distracted by the sound of a certain Hufflepuff’s voice raising above the rest and the cacophony of nasty laughter that would follow from the crowd.

If one was of the particularly curious type and continued watching the trio further, they might also note the way that Logan would seem to blink several more times, with a small frown, as if he were to be chasing after a thought that had gotten away from him at the worst of times. 

One would also get a chance to see Patton stand up and brush off his robes carefully, before turning back to his friends. “We should break them up, before someone tells Professor Sanders and he takes points from both their houses.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” Logan would ask entirely not rhetorical but a near thing, with his eyes sparking as they always would do when someone brought up the point system he would have dedicated his entire school year to winning. “Objectively, as none of us are in Hufflepuff nor Slytherin.”

And Roman would pick up one of the stacks of books, and reply, “Thank god for that! Those Slytherin types are down right evil!”

“Roman!” Patton would reprimand, taking another two books from the other stack while Logan hefted the others, “Slytherins are not evil!”

And Roman would, of course, scoff as he always would have done, “uh, yeah they are! And Ekans is the worse of ‘em! He’s a Disney Villain in the making!”

“Disney?” Patton would repeat, confused, “Is that a muggle thing?”

And Roman would be absolutely offended, because even after five years of having been friends with the pureblood wizard, there would still be some things that didn’t crossover between their respective worlds and one of them would be Classic Animated Movies.

“Dee is not completely malicious,” Logan would say as a deterrent, “He’s most likely just fallen in with the wrong crowd, so to speak.”

“Wrong crowd, my ass! He’s just a terrible guy!” Roman would mention loudly for all to hear had they been listening in, (and ignoring the puff of “language!” from his friend), “He used Epoximise to glue me to my seat in second year!”

“Actually that was Virgil.” Logan would say.

“Was it?”

And Patton would give his Gryffindor friend that strange sort of look, “Yeah! It was before you two really saw eye to eye!“

Roman would mutter under his breath, “Weird.” Then he would raise his head again, “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s a bad guy. Whats the name of those evil wizard dudes from the great wizard war again?”

“What?”

“Those guys who are who-know-who’s followers?”

“You mean Death Eaters?”

And Patton would flinch slightly at the term, and cover it with a queasy smile, because there really wouldn’t be much to be afraid of anymore! The Ministry would have had said so themselves! The Order would just be being vigilant should that change!

“Just you watch!” Roman would say in a definite sort of voice that he always got when someone started badmouthing Divination rather than just the awful Divination Teacher, which would have then prompted Logan and Patton to share a look, “Dee Ekans is going to end up a some type of neo-Death Eater!”

And if one watched for several more years, and kept that sort of conversation in their mind as they did, they would see that Roman Prince had been right.

And if one did not know anything about the conflict between Virgil Storm and Dee Ekans, they would have been inclined to believe that Dee had always been a vile sort of fellow and that there would have been no other outcome for a boy like him born into a pureblood magic family that favored dark magic than for him to have joined the rest of his family in their attempts to promote the Dark Lady to power and that he and Virgil would have been destined to hate each other from the start.

And if one did not own or have access to a time turner, one would, of course, come to the perfectly reasonable conclusion that it had always been this way.

Chapter 1: Liar Liar (House on Fire)

[the-mystical-blog-of-evelyn-rose]

*claps* I hope you all saw my newest post, if you didn't here it is:

https://the-mystical-blog-of-evelyn-rose.tumblr.com/post/183323276977/time-to-reveal-this-bad-boi-secret-project

And if you did read it, thank you uwu Blossom is a real beaut here. It really is fitting that she is posted today, today being international women's day because Blossom is not just a beaut but has great brains and brawn as well. I love her. She's another blue boi, but like sometimes you gotta have blue lol. I also spent forever doing her ponytail, so I hope I did that right, put your thoughts and critiques in the comments. If you are interested in critiquing then, does the anatomy look okay? I don't think the anatomy looks okay, Mainly her hands, her hands are too big in my opinion. Her face is a little squished to me, but I'm not here to tell you how to feel, critique what you want to. For those who actually looked and read my journal you know that the details I am about to add comes from this document: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YPSZ-mS8HAQZnkzvaNBbg_mTEK9F6FJniJ79DbGFp0U/edit?usp=sharing

Please feel free to read other bios that are included on that doc, and feel especially free to request certain characters that you are interested in! Anyway the bio   

Blossom Cherub

Birthday: September 30th (Libra ♎)

Age: 24 years old

Species: 100% Human

Appearance: Blossom is a tall skinny female. She has a deep tan skin that has a warm tone to it. She wears a striped teal-blue and cream sweater with navy blue, high-waisted pants that are cuffed just below her knee. She has socks that end just before her pant legs start and then moccasins boot type things (sorry!). She wears a bead necklace, each bead representing someone who is important in her life, then a compass pendant with on the butterfly outer cover, and then she has feather earrings. Her hair is a deep brown that ends just above her waist that's tied into a high ponytail. Blossom's face is square and full, she has full lips and protruding eyes and a flattish nose all of this framed by her pair of glasses with round lenses and wireframes.

Personality Type: ENFJ-A

Personality: Blossom is a very energetic motivator. She is always there to pump up her friends, teammates, family, or anyone else who really need it. Often She'll be ready to go on any quest or mission from her commanding officer and she'll do it with a smile. She has great devotion for all of her jobs and hobbies and isn't the type to back down from anything for being too challenging or scary. She isn't overly humorous or jokey as oppose to her lightheartedness, Blossom is more likely to be the one laughing at the jokes. She also is quite the dreamer, to be clear she is always practical and realistic, maybe overly so at times, but she typically has a child-like wonder to her that carries over to her disposition. Blossom's dedication can often be seen as obsessive or just downright obsessive that turns into an annoying or intimidating streak. Blossom is usually the one who is first to make a big statement or if something needs to be said, you can count on Blossom to say it. She is a total firecracker of a person, but instead of it just being scary and loud, she is also caring and attentive to an extent, but still mostly loud and proud ha.

Status: Former member of the Windseeker Tribe/ Now Leader to a Platoon under the Master Court

Height: 5’10

Weight: 145 lbs

Gender: ♀️

Debut: Book #2

Powers: Can Channel Brisk Winds

Eye Color: Munsell Blue

Hair Color: Kobicha Brown

Blood Type: O+ Human Blood

Weapon: If not relying on her army-issued weapon or physical strength, she will use small daggers she keeps in a waist pouch.

[swankymikehanlon-blog]

Mou Leípeis (Kasplon)

Edward ‘Eddie’ Kaspbrak fell in love with a boy who calls himself Michael. He fell in love with a boy who looked like he was carved by the most delicate hand and sounded as if he were the voice of heaven. He fell in love with an angel. The angel of hidden destruction.

Words: 5,964

Pairing: Mike Hanlon x Eddie Kaspbrak

Eddie Kaspbrak wrote in his bullet journal, the pen of quality black ink wrote words in cursive on the grainy paper. It was a hot day, the sun beamed down with rays of perpetual heat. His mother, Sonia Kaspbrak, sat in her chair, fanning herself with a cheap paper fan. They’ve been living in Athens, Greece for about two years now and it was an eighth wonder that Sonia still couldn’t handle the heat. Eddie had learned to adapt, making sure to wear shorts, the shortest, appropriate, shorts he had and a thin short sleeved button down. On some days he even wore a graphic shirt that had a badly drawn cat with sunglasses.

It was an eternal summer in Athens, it used to be Eddie’s least favorite season, now Eddie could bask in it forever. Today was still hot though, the only breeze was from the opening and closing of the door from Cafe Melina. Foreigners, meaning clueless American people, went into the cafe with starving bodies and came out with small to-go bags full of delicacies and bread. The umbrella above him and his mother seemed to do no justice as perspiration rolled down their foreheads.

“Pigaínete kai párete éna kok. (Go in and get a coke)” His mother’s gruff and exhausted voice told him. Eddie turned to his mother confused, and slightly annoyed, knowing already that he would have to do whatever she asked already.

“Allá den échoun kanéna (What if they don’t have any)?” Eddie huffed as his mother waved him off with a scoff. His mother had always known Greek, ever since she was a child, her father would take her into his study and teach her Greek for about an hour. She did the same thing to Eddie, only Eddie was less compliant. He remembers going on a rebellious phase in America where he would force himself to forget everything about the Greek Language and immediately regretted when he was told they were moving to Athens, Ever since, bits and pieces of fluent conversation have been coming back to him, but he still wasn’t at his mother’s level.

“Den me noiázei, rotísete (I don’t care, go in).” He whined as he got up, closing his notebook, hiding it in his bag for no one to see and putting it on. He walked into Cafe Melina, hoping to grab a coke bottle before they ran out for the millionth time today. He waited in line, trying to not chortle at the pronunciation of some vacationers. He didn’t really have a right to make fun of them, he was in the same predicament a while back. But that’s another discussion for another time.

“Excuse me, would you like a coke?” A boy came up to him with two glass coke bottles in hand. He was tall, slim yet buff and Eddie was stilled. He had never seen him, well of course not because he was a stranger, but still. The boy with no name held out a coke for Eddie and Eddie just stared at it, having no idea what to do.

“Prépei na sas pliróso (Do I have to pay)?” The boy looked at him with wide eyes and a sheepish smile. Eddie realized his mistake, speaking in Greek to a person who seemed to not know how to respond back.

“Uh, I’m sorry, uh, I meant do I have to pay?” Eddie felt the rise of a blush on the nape of his neck. He had his hands crossed over each other, limbs shaking from not knowing what to do.

“No, not at all, just being friendly.” The boy held out the coke and Eddie hesitantly took it, his fingers, accidentally, brushing over the boys.

“What’s your name?” Eddie clasped the wet coke bottle, feeling it slip slightly in the palm of his already sweaty hands. The boy, who looked like a very young and mature man, stood in front of him, one hand holding the glass bottle and the other snapping the metal cap off. Eddie watched his arms, suddenly intrigued and the pristine fabric that was rolled up to his bicep.

“My names Michael. Hanlon, but most people call me Mike.” He took a sip of water, keeping eye contact with Eddie who became flustered as the moment passed. Eddie nodded along, silently struggling to open the bottle.

“Do you prefer one over the other?” When Eddie finally got it open, he let out a less than gracious ‘Yeah’ and immediately coiled inward after realizing the boy had heard him.

“No one ever calls me Michael.” His tone wavered slightly, as if he was asking a question more than stating a fact. Eddie smiled, slightly, the corner of his lip lifting up in a small smirk.

“Well, Michael it is.” Eddie chuckled, the sound seeming pitched higher than intended but Michael didn’t mind. He found the found the quirk odd yet cute. Michael nodded, eyeing the boy’s un-drinken soda bottle and how the water droplets dripped from his pale fingers to the wood floor. Michael always had an eye for detail, catching the little things in a person, catching the flaws and the uniqueness of it all.

“What about you. What do they call you?” Michael led him to the door, Eddie absentmindedly following. Placing a hand on the knob, Michael’s face was turned towards the door, looking out at the patio and the buildings that created the town square they were in. Eddie took the time to look at his face, the structure of his jaw, the shape of his ear and quirk of his mouth every time he smiled.

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” Eddie and Michael were now outside, still covered by the shade produced by the veil of cloth that hung overhead the door. His mother, back towards them, still fanned herself excessively.

“Wait, Kaspbrak?” Mike turned towards Eddie who was taking a sip of his own drink. He nodded, confusion becoming evident on his face as Michael’s eyes widened slightly.

“Is Adrian Kaspbrak related to you in any way?” Eddie raised a brow, head tilting slightly.

“Yeah, he’s my uncle, mother’s brother.” Eddie smiled, yet again, digging his shoe into the gravel they stood on. It was getting hotter by the second, the way the sweat started to show off Mike’s neck on some on the hairline of his forehead.

“No way. I, uh, I work with him. Well, kind of, we haven’t met, but I work with bakery on some days.” Eddie was surprised, his face contorting into absolute revelation. His uncle was a baker, he owned bakery, that specifically only sold bread type of things. Odd, but it worked, earning a decent income every week.

“Really! It’s weird, I never see you around and I’m always there.” Eddie engaged in a conversation that would soon have to end. He knew his mother would pull him away and begin to tell him about the things he needed to do around the house.

“Oh, I do the deliveries, you know, when people far, far, away want to order something but can’t come, I deliver.” Eddie hummed, intrigued by the new information that graced his ears. Michael began to describe what he did, how he had a bike, a bike from the 60s that his grandfather owned. It was a little rusty, but it got the job done.

“Edouárdos (Edward)!” His mother voice screeched as he and Michael looked over to see her struggling to get out of her chair.

“I hate when she calls me that.” Eddie muttered under his breath, but not low enough since Michael looked at him with curiosity. He was almost done with his coke, about two drinks before he could throw it way.

“What’d she say?”

“Edward, my full name.” Eddie sighed as he looked at him with thin line setting his mouth. It was now the time to part, the sun would settle soon anyway.

“I’m going to have to help her do whatever she wants me to do so, maybe I’ll see you around?” Eddie felt the words rush out of his mouth, the last word ending on a tone of utter and complete hope.

“Yeah, maybe at Evgeneís.” The name of his uncle’s bakery. Though it was poorly pronounced by Michael, Eddie appreciated the effort and thought it was cute. But he couldn’t continue to linger into Michael eyes as his mother screeching.

“Goodbye Michael.” Eddie didn’t wait, his feet picking up speed so his mother wouldn’t see who he was talking to. If she saw, she would have questions, and the questions would lead to accusations and Eddie just didn’t want any of that.

“Antio sas (Goodbye).” Eddie heard from behind him and he immediately stopped. It was perfectly pronounced, the form of the simple word seeming to come from a fluent mouth. Turning around to see Michael, Eddie had found him walking along the side of the other building facing Cafe Melina. As he rounded the corner, Eddie wondered if Michael really did know Greek. Pushing the thought away, Eddie walked over to his mother, helping her walk on the hideous wedges she wore.

Gift from her brother, the shoes were about three inches high, making his mother taller than she needed to be. They were red, covered in glued on Butterfly charms that just made it look like plain out kid shoes. Walking to their car, Eddie looked back, knowing he wouldn’t see Michael, but just hoping he’s come back because he forgot something. But he never came back, the corner of the building looking distorted the more he looked at it. With a final push, his mother now sat in the driver seat, purse thrown in the back and car keys in hand. Eddie rounded the car, looking back at Cafe Melina, the lone coke glass bottle he left on the table, because he’s that type of person, and smiled.

Getting home wasn’t weird, nothing unusual happened. But Eddie did try to look at his surroundings more, hoping to pass by Michael, who would probably be leaning on a wall, drinking another drink and a book in hand as he watched the sun set. But he didn’t see him, so it was kind of disappointing. His home was quite lavish, flowers of all exotic kinds hung from the window Bougainvillea hung from his window, the vibrant pink contrasted itself with the white plaster that coated the walls of his too-big-for-too house. There was a garden that separated his house and his neighbors, Ben Hanscom and his family. They’ve lived here their whole lives, Ben, the same age as Eddie, had been a greek speaker since birth. Ben occasionally shows up and hangs out with Eddie on days that were bearable, when the sun was beaming with needed nutrients and not trying to cook the flesh off of any victim. Today had been the day that was somewhat bearable, the sun was going down anyway and when Ben welcomed Eddie at the door, Eddie wasn’t surprised.

“Poté den xéreis pós baíneis sto spíti. (I never know how you get into the house).” Ben laughs as Eddie hugs him, his mother going to the garden to pick new flowers for her vase that held dried Cliff Roses and Crocus.

“Afínete tin píso pórta anoichtí óli tin óra. (You leave the back door open all the time)” Ben slung an arm over Eddie’s shoulder as they made their way into the spacious bright white themed kitchen. Ben situated Eddie by the kitchen island, his hands pressing into the colored marble as Ben found his way to the fruit bowl. The fruit bowl was Ben’s favorite thing in Eddie’s house. It was just so wonderful to examine the different fruits, the most normal fruit being a common fig.

“How was your day?” Ben didn’t grab a fruit, but twirled the basket in circles as Eddie sighed, wanting to tell Ben about Michael. But it was his mother’s steps that caused him to stop before doing so.

“Giatí ta agória den pigaínoun sti límni, eínai oraío (Why don’t you boys go to the lake, it’s nice out.” His mother had a shirt clenched behind her back and Eddie only knew what that meant. She wasn’t suggesting both he and Ben went to the lake, she was telling. The shirt behind her was his father's. His deceased fathers, the blue and fading t-shirt belonged to his father, who happens to be dead, has been dead for 5 years. And his mother is still mourning. She’ll forever mourn, Eddie won’t ever understand, but he’ll never ask why.

“Yeah, Ben let’s go to the lake.” Ben nodded his head, saying goodbye to Sonia and following in foot with Eddie, who’s whole posture seemed rigid.

“Hey dude, you alright.” They had taken their bikes, walking them down the path to the lake. Eddie looked at Ben with a sad smile and dismissed the conversation from going any farther. When they arrived three other people had been swimming in the pool. Ben knew all three, Eddie knew none of them.

“FILOS! (Friend)!” One boy who was in the deepest part of the lake waved over in Ben’s direction. Ben smiled and waved back, pulling an awkward Eddie along. The boy in the deepest part of the lake had black hair that looked fairly tangled and slightly tan skin. From where Eddie stood, he could see the square glasses the boy was wearing.

“Giatí foráei gyaliá sti límni? (Why is he wearing glasses in the lake)” Ben just shrugged as he took off his shirt then pants, leaving him in only his boxers. The girl of the group shouted, yelling and laughing along with the two other boys who swam with her.

“Come on Eddie, let’s swim.” Ben told him before he ran into the water, full speed, yelping at the sudden cold contact. Eddie sighed as let his bike go, unbuttoning his shirt, walking along the rocky path downward. His shoes came off by dry ground next to the water and so did his pants. Thank the lord he had made the decision to wear boxers and not briefs today. Walking in, he felt the pebbles gilde around his feet as he stepped in. The water devoured him and left only his head to the air.

“What’s your name?” The girl with fiery red short hair asked. Eddie turned towards her, his arms swaying in front of him, feeling the water elevate his body from sinking.

“Eddie.” He smiled as the girl waved, splashing the boy with glasses, who swam closer.

“Well Hello Eddie, I’m Richie. This is Beverly, but she goes by Bev.” Richie pointed to Beverly who slicked back her hair and smiled a bright smile.

“And over here we have Big-Bill.” The boy with green eyes rolled them as he sent a tidal wave of water towards Richie.

“It’s B-Bill. Don’t call me Big-Bill, please.” Bill sent another splash at Richie who blocked his face.

“Yeah, only I can call him Big-Bill.” Richie snorted as Beverly shot him a look. Eddie felt like he already knew them, they were just all friendly. Beverly started talking about her day, as if Eddie had listened to her various daily rants. Bill had swam closer to Richie and that’s when Eddie knew they were more than friends. It was obvious before, but it’s even more obvious now since Eddie found himself watching the two talk and blush, and even secretly kiss.

“Xereis na milas ellinika? (Do you speak greek)” Beverly asked Eddie after she finished her story. Eddie nodded his head, suddenly getting afraid of speaking fluently to Beverly, who seemed to know it fluently. It’s not that Eddie didn’t know as much as her, he did, possibly even more, it’s just that Eddie never talks the greek language with anyone but Ben, his mother, his uncle, and the person who takes his food order.

“Oraía, giatí óloi mas miláme kanoniká. (Great, because we all normally talk in it)” Richie hollered, jumping on Bill’s back, slowly smothering him under water. Beverly laughed at the occurrence and watched as each try to overpower the other. Ben went under water and bagan to swim to the secluded area that was behind the trees. Beverly seemed to get bored of Richie and Bill’s play fight and locked eyes with Eddie.

“Thélete na akolouthísete ton Ben? (Wanna go follow Ben)” Beverly migrated closer to Eddie, her arms producing small splashings that hit his face. Eddie shook his head, not wanting to barge in on Ben who probably went to the secluded area for some space. Beverly had a different opinion on it as she began to swim away, following Ben.

“Volépsou! (Suit yourself)” Eddie cradled his torso with his arms, feeling cold, though the sun was still up, but barely. He floated there, watching Richie and Bill talk, seeming to not notice Eddie. He felt awkward, like he intruded and found himself swimming to the shore. Getting out of the water was uncomfortable, his boxers clung to his skin like leeches. Pulling his clothes on, he grabbed his bike, taking a final glance at the boys in love and started to walk the path again. He wasn’t going home yet, there was still light. He found himself bicycling down the road of neighboring houses, which would lead into the town square. He heard music, dinner music, as it was time for travellers to enjoy a nice meal to settle down for the day. While on his bike, Eddie felt the wetness of his boxers leak through his shorts, droplets dripping onto the dry dirt, leaving a trail from where he came from.

He entered the dining square, saying hello to people who hung around like they always do. The day became drastically  darker as Eddie rolled farther into town, the lights that touched one restaurant to the other turned on and illuminated the sky and its colors. Stopping in front of a family restaurant, he dropped his bicycle by the wall, knowing there was a high risk of stealing, but not really caring. Walking into ‘Póli Yakínthou’ (City of Hyacinth), Eddie breathed in the smell of food, smiling as tourist and neighbors gathered to eat. He was here to see Cicero the owner of the place and Eddie’s mother’s friend. Hoping to get a paice of free bread for a snack, Eddie walked along the wall that would lead into the kitchen. Because he was young, no one really questioned what he did, they were all too focused on agreeing or disagreeing on politics, social opinions, and pretty much anything.

The vibe in the kitchen was different from the vibe in the restaurant itself. Example one would be the spurts of fire coming from the stove as their chef cooked and cooked. Another example would be the waiters that twirled around, carrying plates of foods, voiding any oncoming traffic of bodies. Eddie ducked under a plater of food, laughing as the chef caught him and smiled. Making his way behind the stove wall, he found the door to the office and opened it. In the office, Cicero sat in his old chair, glasses on and white goatee looking whiter than ever.

“AH, EDDIE!” Cicero’s accent was thick, Eddie’s name sounding completely different than what it was supposed to be. Eddie chuckled as Cicero hugged him with mighty force, crushing his delicate chest slightly. Cicero leaned against his table that was cluttered with work papers and a small computer.

“Ti boró na káno gia séna? (What can I do for you)” Cicero crossed his arms over each other, his suit stretching at the arms slightly.

“Xéreis gia ti írtha edó, Kikérona. (You know what I came here for, Cicero)” Eddie began to slowly walk out the door, already knowing the answer he was going to get. Cicero was a gracious man, but that doesnt mean Eddie can take whatever he wants. Well, although Eddie does that anyway, he still makes sure that Cicero knows he’s doing it. Cicero laughed, a sound that was the epitome of an old greek man. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he released the laugh and Eddie took that as permission. Saying thank you and goodbye to Cicero, Eddie walked back into the busy kitchen. Going over to one of the waiting bread baskets, Eddie took the to-go boxes on the the shelf and filled it with the variety of bread they had.

Finishing up, he closed the box, saying goodbye to the chef and the waiters, and walked out the way he came in. It wasn’t a hasty job, it was fairly smooth, ironic since everything in the kitchen was chaotic. His hand was on the door when he caught sight of someone familiar. Opening, his jaw slightly opened as the man in front of him turned around and caught him staring.

“Eddie?” Michael’s voice brought Eddie out of his own mind. It was when Michael moved around that Eddie realized it actually was Michael. They stood by the side of the door, closer to Eddie’s bike, under the yellow vertical lights. Under the light, Eddie finally took notice of the prominent height difference. Mike was probably around 6’3”-6’4” while Eddie was only 5’8, so do the math and that was nearly a 7 inch height difference.

“Wow, It’s been days since I last saw you.” Michaels smile made Eddie’s knees go weak and his heart pound. Michael sure was a beauty, a piece of fine work and Eddie felt defenseless against his attack of complete attractiveness. The laouto of the music strung loudly and Eddie heard the yells of everyone in the restaurant. They had gotten up to dance, something that always happened, and if Eddie had an ounce of confidence he would go in, dragging Michael along. But he didn’t, so the conversation under lights would have to do.

“I know, has it been a year? It feels like it’s been a year.” Eddie slowly walked, Michael trailing behind him with his hands in his pockets. Eddie’s bike wasn’t stolen, thank god, but it was now night time. Soon his mother would worry, contemplate calling the local police station and file a missing person’s report. But the smell of Michael, a cologne that wasn’t strong at all, kept Eddie from grabbing his bike and going home.

“The night looks perfect doesn’t it.” Michael was staring at the sky but Eddie found himself staring at him instead. He hummed, hands loosely unwrapping from the black box that contained the bread. It was when Eddie dropped it that Michael looked back at him. The bread was now everywhere and Eddie was bright red.

“Gamó! (Fuck)” Eddie bent down, knees scraping themselves on the ground, dirt digging itself in the small cuts.

“Ow, ow.” Eddie felt his face flush at the pain and embarrassment. Michael bent down, trying to help Eddie with the bread but stopped when he saw the damage done to his knees.

“Um, let me go get some napkins and water, it can get infected if you don’t clean it off.” Michael lifted up Eddie with ease, his arm holding the side of Eddie’s waist firmly. Siting him down by his bike, Michael told him to wait there and sprinted into the restaurant. Eddie wanted to cry. He just dropped a box of bread and proceeded to cut his knees over something so simple and unharmful in front of a guy like Michael. Eddie had always been a sensitive boy, his bones and flesh made more fragile than others and he hated it. When Michael came back the blood on Eddie’s knees began to dry.

“Sorry for the wait, it’s completely crazy in there.” Michael chuckled as he sat down in front of Eddie’s clutched form. He had what looked like a damp towel and two bandaids. He took the towel and looked at Eddie, waiting for confirmation before dabbing it on Eddie’s knees, wiping off the dirt. Eddie hissed, relaxing as Michael cared for him, applying a bandage to one knee. Doing the same to the other knee, Eddie watched Michael patch him up with precision, his eyebrows furrowed as he placed the final bandaid on. It was Michael’s hand that lingers on his leg, the warmness of it all that made Eddie want to do something with his hands. Placing his hand over Michael's, on a whim of confidence, or harmons, who really knows, he said thank you and got up.

“Ntrépomai tóso polý (I’m so embarrassed).” Eddie said in greek, knowing Michael wouldn’t know what he was saying. Michael sighed, leaning against the wall, next to Eddie who had picked up his bike. The bread mess was still on the ground, but neither boys seemed to care.

“So do you speak full on Greek?” Michael turned to look at Eddie, his hands clasped behind his back, pressed against the wall. Eddie looked back, eyes absentmindedly falling to Michael’s lips as they glistened with saliva under the light.

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, unlike all his surroundings and Michael found comfort in it. Though the world around them was chaotic, Eddie made it seem calm. Michael liked that.

“Not to be too, american, but can you say something? In greek?” It was Michael’s smile that made Eddie die over and over again. It was just the, the dancing and clapping from inside the restaurant was drowned out by their own breathing.

“Anasa mou. (You’re my breath)” It was short, sweet maybe a little too strong. But Michael didn’t need to know that. Michael was in awe, his mouth parted as Eddie looked away, blush rising again.

“What does that mean?” Those were the words Eddie didn’t want to hear at all. Becoming smart, for a quick second, he lied.

“It means ‘You’re sweet.’” Eddie perched his shoulders onto the wall, feeling his hair get messed up pby the concrete. Michael nodded, biting his lower lip and laughing. They stood there for a moment before Michael spoke again, startling Eddie slightly.

“How would you like to help me?” Eddie was peaked in interest as Michael pressed away from the wall, now standing in front of Eddie.

“How would I help you?” Eddie grabbed his bike handles, separating him and Michael. Eddie didn’t mean to create a gap, but somehow Michael found a way threw it, placing his hands on on top of Eddie’s clasping the handle and his fingers. Eddie felt himself choke on his on spit, the closeness of Michael made him feel flustered.

“Teach me.” Michael’s voice was quiet as well, almost as if it were a whisper.

“Greek?” Eddie eyed Michael’s lips again, slowly trailing to the pair of brown eyes that stared back. Michael nodded, squeezing Eddie’s hand again before stepping back and letting go. When the much larger hand was lifted off his smaller one, his knuckle felt the whip of the wind. Eddie thought about it, teaching Michael in his house, in his room, while the window stayed open and the breeze would come in and sweep his hair to the side and ruffle the pages he was using to tutor Michael. Or maybe he would teach Michael in the dry land of Ben’s secluded area, after days and days of pleading. He would have a blanket set up, a fruit basket which he would use as an example to teach Michael easy greek words. And maybe when Eddie would take a bite of a  crisp apple, Michael would too, the same apple, and maybe, just maybe, they would find each other and-

“Eddie?” Michael looked at him with look of concerned. Eddie was dream thinking again, a thing he often did. Shaking his head, Eddie laughed, resting a palm on his face.

“Yeah. I’ll teach you greek.” Eddie let his hand fall, his face feeling the heat of his handprint. Mike bit his bottom lip, a small spread of color burned on his cheeks and Eddie realized that he was blushing. Michael Hanlon was indeed blushing and it made Eddie’s heart soar with happiness.

“Meet me here, tomorrow, at 12 a.m and we’ll go from there.” Eddie said as he sat on the seat of his bicycle, his pants stiff from the dried lake water. Michael nodded as he waved goodbye to Eddie who strolled out of the town square. Passing by the lake, Eddie glanced as he rode, looking to see if Ben and all the others were still there. He heard shouts and laughter coming from the lake and took a deep breath, detouring his way into the path of the lake. He was going to go straight home, explain to his mother why they wouldn’t have bread for the night, but decided against it as he stopped his bike next to Ben’s

“Geia sou poú exafanísate? (Hey where did you disappear to)” Ben yelled as Beverly sat on his shoulders. Bill and Richie were still fighting this time instead of using their hands they used their mouths. Eddie wasn’t really phased by it, he’s seen his fair share of pda before and what Bill and Richie were doing wasn’t really bad.

“Póli plateía gia na párete kápoia trofí, den eíchan típota kaló ómos. (Town square to get some food, they didn’t have anything good though.)” Eddie trudged down the path, his feet, covered by his sandals, ached with a days worth of walking around a farm. Sitting on a patch of grass, Eddie watched the four kids in the water play with no care in the world. Eddie wished he would fit in, but he rarely stuck with a crowd. And that was okay, because he didn’t need to stick with a crowd. He was Edward ‘Eddie’ Kaspbrak and that’s enough for him.

He was awoken by the sunlight that breached through his open window. He heard the clanking of cooking ware as his mother blasted music, rupturing Eddie’s eardrums. He yawned, arms stretching out and touching the side of his bed, the vacant space making his sad for a moment but happy the next when he realized he could spread his legs out. He laid there, enjoying the organic greek sounds coming from downstairs, but right then his eyes opened wide and he sat abruptly up in bed.

“Michael!” He fell out of bed, his ass hitting the hardwood floor. He muttered profanities, rubbing the probably bruised flesh as he stood up and rushed to his dresser. He wore only boxers to bed, his chest feeling the wind from outside come in and peck him. Looking back to his nightstand, he let out a huff of desperation once he read the numbers

‘12:43’

He was late, very late, and there was no way in hell Michael was still waiting for him. Eddie didn’t have time to shower, so smelling decent was out of the equation. His hair had tangles, he could barely comb his fingers through the dark brown mess. He couldn’t find a shirt that looked good enough for Michael and all his shorts were in the wash. He had jeans, but it was hell on earth out there and he would melt if he wore them. But the only other option was a pair of bright orange and yellow boardshorts, that were about two sizes to big on him. They were Ben’s, a pair of swim trunks he left after the many days of coming over after swimming in the lake.

Looking back at the clock, he was bewildered to find that five minutes had passed on only him deciding the jeans or the shorts. Groaning, he took the jeans and pulled them on, grabbing a navy button down. Trying it on, rushing and almost tripping over his own feet, he looked into the mirror and scrunched his face. He needed something else, he looked to plain. Frantically searching around his room, he reached under his bed and pulled out a box that contained a jacket, a harrington jacket. Eddie was going to melt, turn to a puddle of boy as soon as he walked outside. Sighing, he pulled it on, rolling his arms, adjusting the fit of it all. Going back to the mirror, he looked at himself and stood still, the jacket giving him a much older vibe. He looked different, he looked older and he kinda loved it. Glancing back at the clock, he rushed downstairs and went to the main closet, digging through, trying to find boots. Boots would be the only thing that would work for today and he immediately regretted the clothing decision.

“Mamá, pigaíno gia lígo stin plateía tis pólis, se agapó, antío! (Mom, I’m going to the town square for a while, i love you, bye)” Eddie walked through the kitchen, swiftly, ignoring his mother's questions. Going out the back door, he grabbed his bike, doing a complete 360 and began to pedal through the garden, past Ben’s house. He was already dying, his curls felt like they were falling flat by the second, his skull producing more heat than a furnace. He wasn’t wearing a watch, so he didn’t have the ability to check time and he wanted to punch himself in the face. Entering the town square in the morning was different than entering the town square at night. It was way more busy during the day, cars seemed to pop up everywhere, threatening to crash into Eddie every time he rounded a corner.

People walked around, wearing summer wear, shorts and a shirt, something Eddie wished he was wearing. Instead he sat on a bike, covered from head to toe with excessive fabric. It was about five minutes until he would get to the restaurant, probably five minutes more if he gets thrown in with the traffic crowd. It had to be one already, the rush of working men and women began to show, their attire being stretched by their legs as they ran to their business buildings. When Eddie reached the restaurant he couldn’t find Michael, he was nowhere to be seen. The spot where he spilled the bread had been cleaned up, where he cut his knees had been vacant of people, vacant of Michael. He stopped his bike along the wall, almost tripping as he got off, the bike crashing along the wall as he looked around in search for Michael.

After about five minutes, Eddie gave up for searching, his body limpy sat on his bike. The sun made the sweat on Eddie’s cheekbones look like granulated make-up. His hair, now matted, kept being swept to the side by his weak hand. Michael was gone, if he even came, probably waited here for about 30 minutes before he left. Sighing heavily, he took a deep breathe in and began walking his bike down town square to Cafe Melina,  idea bubbling in the back of his head. What if Michael was waiting there, with two cokes in hand, maybe one for Eddie. But reaching the patio with no Michael in sight busted his last sliver of hope. There were few people at Cafe Melina, music played this time, it was quiet but it still music. He placed his bike by the wall, the risk of it getting stolen again and strolled into the Cafe.

When the bell above the door jingled Michael’s head lifted up from the book that landed on the round wood table. Eddie hadn’t seen him, he passed the table, feet dragging. Michael watched the boy, how his jacket swung every time his torso moved. It was when Eddie turned around with a bagel in hand that his eyes bulged out of their sockets. There was Michael, sitting in the corner of the store, with a book and coffee in hand. Eddie almost dropped the begel, his jaw hung low, as Michael waved.

“Gamótata skatá. (Holy Fucking Shit)”

Heyy, @billbenbev the first chapter is done and I’m excited. I just want to personally thank you because you’re my hype man! This is an au of curse, Mike(Michael) and Eddie are totally like oc, so, yeah. And I know Stan the Man Uris isn’t in this chapter because he has a way bigger role my dudes, oh yeah, he’ll come in like the next chapter I think. Also If anyone actually knows Greek, you can help me writ out the dialogue because I’m literally using google translate lmaooo.

[andreafestefano]

How to create a functional (AND pretty) pantry!

Hey there! I'm back with another tour of sorts...this one is probably my favorite "room" in the house. When I realized how big our pantry was I'm pretty sure I squealed out loud and did a fist pump or two. Our old pantry wasn't the smallest I've seen for sure...but it was a small closet size and I had to get creative to make the most of that space. (See the end of the post for more on that.)

This room has been quite the disaster since we moved in more than four months ago. I literally threw food and stuff on the shelves when I unpacked and said see you later. 😂 Since then we've just put stuff wherever it fits. Finding that one item we were looking for was always fun. It was a MESS:

There was absolutely no rhyme or reason to any of the shelves -- I quite literally just filled them up and knew I would deal with it at some point. 

Around the corner it got even better!:

I was so excited to be able to add an outlet in here -- I planned to keep small appliances in the pantry instead of on the kitchen counters. 

Well when decided on placement of the outlet, I didn't think to ask how the shelves were going to be hung. So the outlet isn't on a wall where we have shelves. Wahhh wahh. I've figured out a solution to that (crossing my fingers it works) and plan to tackle that project soon! 

We're the non-coffee drinking family that has a Keurig...love it for quick hot water (it's always the perfect temp!) and cider, hot chocolate, etc. I had it on a small rolling cart:

This room was such a mess, whenever I showed this side of the kitchen the light was always off:

But now I'm happy to show it off!!:

This took FOREVER to organize. Well, at least most of a day. There's a TON of stuff in there! But when I have the time I find this kind of project cathartic and dare I say, even a little fun. I'm weird. 

Before I started organizing anything I did a couple quick projects a few weeks ago -- I installed a dimmer in here and also replaced the incandescent bulbs with daylight bulbs. I prefer daylight bulbs in rooms with no natural light: 

Goodness it is SO much brighter in here! And the dimmer makes it so we can keep the light low for the animals in the evening. 

Of course I had to repeat my boxwood wreath on the pantry door like our old house! I really wanted to take advantage of the wall space in here so I hung my apron with a cute hook from IKEA and we use that wire piece for fresh produce:

I used it in our powder room in the old house and almost got rid of it because I didn't have a spot for it here. I'm so glad I thought to hang it because it's GREAT for a pantry! It lets the air flow and gives us easy access to things like oranges, avocados, potatoes and bananas. 

I'll go through each set of shelves with you all cause I really thought about how we use this room. This space needed to have a higher focus of function over form...but I did think about the view most visitors would get (this door is open most of the time) as they walked by. So I did want this first row of shelves to be slightly appealing:

By that I mean anything that we keep in containers went over here like pasta and that jazz. I guess I should warn you -- this is NOT one of those gorgeous pantries that you'll drool over and then go -- "But WHERE is the food?" Ha!! I love those as much as the next person, but I've really gotten away from keeping so much in containers. For some items I love it -- for others I just don't find it to be helpful. 

And by the way -- I figured out where to put those cute herb/kitchen printables I showed you last weekend. I'm going to find some frames and hang them above this line of shelves!

Now organizer kind of gadgets...I'm totally into those. ;) On this side this is how I organized: 

I put anything pasta-related at the top -- I like pasta in containers just because they're easier to organize than the bags.

Most canned items (for dinners primarily) and boxed meals are here for easy access.

Our animal food goes into containers because we just find it easier to scoop from these instead of pour. And our dog only gets a measured amount each feeding. These keep the food nice and fresh too -- more so than bags I think.

I went through our kitchen towels (did you see that pile of them on top of the shelves in that pic up there??? I would literally wash them and throw them up there!) and only kept the ones I loved. Most of what I had up there were seasonal anyway. Towels and washcloths are now in the basket for easy access. My cookbooks are there too. I used a magazine holder to keep smaller books organized:

The next row of shelves is where the bulk of the food is. Again, I wanted the stuff we reach for most to be closer to the door. 

Spices and cooking oils are layered on top with tiered organizers like the canned goods. These are life savers!! They make it so much easier to see what you have on deeper shelves. 

Breakfast stuff is on it's own shelf. I keep packets of hot cereal in a basket so we know when we're running low.

Baking necessities and sweets are on the next shelf. I tried to keep the foods we reach for the most often on eye level. I don't bake that often so those are best a little lower. 

The bottom baskets hold snacks -- bags of chips and crackers. I only added baskets to the bottom shelves because when we pull them out it's easy to see what's inside. (Up higher and you have to pull them all the way out to sort around):

As we move around we get to less food and more appliances and paper goods. This corner spot is nice and deep and holds a TON, but it's also harder to get to. In hindsight I would have asked for the corner to be squared off so these aren't so deep. But I'm not complaining!

Our small appliances that I use IN the kitchen are on the top shelf -- meaning those that I take out and use on the counter. This will make more sense in a minute.

Next shelf is alcohol -- I know it looks like a store. 😂 We used to keep most alcohol in our basement, which was nice, but we would buy more of what we already had because...out of sight, out of mind. We keep extra lime juice and mixes here too.

The next shelf is stuff we grab for lunches -- peanut butter, crackers, bread. In the bin I have the small lunch-sized stuff like chips. It makes it super easy to pack our boy's lunch in the morning!

The bottom is the random stuff -- there are always items you don't know what to do with! The bag holder could go on the wall but it felt in the way anywhere else. The little fabric basket holds our trash bags. Plus extra foil and storage bags are here too: 

And finally, the side I'm most excited about! I moved the shelves around here a bit to make this work.

Tea and hot chocolate are at the top

The second shelf is where I keep our K-cups (isn't that organizer so cute!) and our vitamins 

The third shelf is for appliances we use in the pantry -- and I have a project in mind to make this even more functional! I'll let you know if it works out! You can see that the outlet is on the wall to the right. 

The bottom shelf is for extra paper/plastic stuff and our trash compactor bags:

Here's a closer look at that cute organizer for the K-cups! I found it in the check out lane at HomeGoods and thought it would work great. It is perfect!:

When we got the Keurig I realized it was much easier to keep our mugs in the pantry. I got this cute mug holder about a month ago and love that we can grab what we need right there:

This room is the smartest and most functional in the house and I LOVE it! I love it even more now that we can find exactly what we need when we walk in. And it's so much nicer when we're putting stuff away too. I should've done this a long time ago!

I found the Groceries sign at an antique shop a few weeks ago (but it's not an antique) -- isn't it perfect? I love touches of green in our mostly white kitchen:

There you go! This space is finally organized and working well for us! During the process I was a deer in headlights at times -- I would just stand in there and stare at the mess. But if you slow it down and really think about how you USE a space, it's easier to work it out in your head. 

And it found it helpful to remove EVERYTHING off the shelves -- every counter in our kitchen was covered! Then I went by section and added everything back in. I gave the shelves a good cleaning too. 

I would move all over again just for this pantry. :) It's amazing -- I love that we can keep more than just food in here. I did get rid of a few things and moved just a couple items to the basement. But overall what you see in the befores is what is in there now! We also keep the dog and cat food in this room (on the floor). 

Here's a resource list if you're interested in anything. We had everything but the mug rack and K-cup storage and I made the rest work in here. (Affiliate links included for your convenience!):

I can't find my sign online but this one is super cute and has the same wording!

I got the mug rack here -- most versions with good reviews in this design were SO expensive! This one still wasn't cheap but better than others (read reviews because some have hooks that are too close together and getting mugs on and off is difficult).

The baskets were from Target (I used them in our basement cubby storage) and they don't sell these exact ones anymore. These are SUPER close though -- same size and materials. 

These are the tiered can/spice shelves -- LOVE them and they make organizing these items so easy.

This round spice caddy is a favorite too -- it turns so you can find what you need.

You can see more about our timed cat feeders in this post!

I got my hanging wire shelves from HomeGoods but this one is very similar as well.

The wood and metal rolling cart we had in there was from World Market.

If you'd like to see more about how I organized our old pantry, check out this post! 

For more on the glass door I used on that pantry, you can go here:

SaveSave SaveSave

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By: Thompsons Comfort Connection Blog Feed http://ift.tt/2FfiUzJ

[lukerhill]

How to create a functional (AND pretty) pantry!

Hey there! I'm back with another tour of sorts...this one is probably my favorite "room" in the house. When I realized how big our pantry was I'm pretty sure I squealed out loud and did a fist pump or two. Our old pantry wasn't the smallest I've seen for sure...but it was a small closet size and I had to get creative to make the most of that space. (See the end of the post for more on that.)

This room has been quite the disaster since we moved in more than four months ago. I literally threw food and stuff on the shelves when I unpacked and said see you later. 😂 Since then we've just put stuff wherever it fits. Finding that one item we were looking for was always fun. It was a MESS:

There was absolutely no rhyme or reason to any of the shelves -- I quite literally just filled them up and knew I would deal with it at some point. 

Around the corner it got even better!:

I was so excited to be able to add an outlet in here -- I planned to keep small appliances in the pantry instead of on the kitchen counters. 

Well when decided on placement of the outlet, I didn't think to ask how the shelves were going to be hung. So the outlet isn't on a wall where we have shelves. Wahhh wahh. I've figured out a solution to that (crossing my fingers it works) and plan to tackle that project soon! 

We're the non-coffee drinking family that has a Keurig...love it for quick hot water (it's always the perfect temp!) and cider, hot chocolate, etc. I had it on a small rolling cart:

This room was such a mess, whenever I showed this side of the kitchen the light was always off:

But now I'm happy to show it off!!:

This took FOREVER to organize. Well, at least most of a day. There's a TON of stuff in there! But when I have the time I find this kind of project cathartic and dare I say, even a little fun. I'm weird. 

Before I started organizing anything I did a couple quick projects a few weeks ago -- I installed a dimmer in here and also replaced the incandescent bulbs with daylight bulbs. I prefer daylight bulbs in rooms with no natural light: 

Goodness it is SO much brighter in here! And the dimmer makes it so we can keep the light low for the animals in the evening. 

Of course I had to repeat my boxwood wreath on the pantry door like our old house! I really wanted to take advantage of the wall space in here so I hung my apron with a cute hook from IKEA and we use that wire piece for fresh produce:

I used it in our powder room in the old house and almost got rid of it because I didn't have a spot for it here. I'm so glad I thought to hang it because it's GREAT for a pantry! It lets the air flow and gives us easy access to things like oranges, avocados, potatoes and bananas. 

I'll go through each set of shelves with you all cause I really thought about how we use this room. This space needed to have a higher focus of function over form...but I did think about the view most visitors would get (this door is open most of the time) as they walked by. So I did want this first row of shelves to be slightly appealing:

By that I mean anything that we keep in containers went over here like pasta and that jazz. I guess I should warn you -- this is NOT one of those gorgeous pantries that you'll drool over and then go -- "But WHERE is the food?" Ha!! I love those as much as the next person, but I've really gotten away from keeping so much in containers. For some items I love it -- for others I just don't find it to be helpful. 

And by the way -- I figured out where to put those cute herb/kitchen printables I showed you last weekend. I'm going to find some frames and hang them above this line of shelves!

Now organizer kind of gadgets...I'm totally into those. ;) On this side this is how I organized: 

I put anything pasta-related at the top -- I like pasta in containers just because they're easier to organize than the bags.

Most canned items (for dinners primarily) and boxed meals are here for easy access.

Our animal food goes into containers because we just find it easier to scoop from these instead of pour. And our dog only gets a measured amount each feeding. These keep the food nice and fresh too -- more so than bags I think.

I went through our kitchen towels (did you see that pile of them on top of the shelves in that pic up there??? I would literally wash them and throw them up there!) and only kept the ones I loved. Most of what I had up there were seasonal anyway. Towels and washcloths are now in the basket for easy access. My cookbooks are there too. I used a magazine holder to keep smaller books organized:

The next row of shelves is where the bulk of the food is. Again, I wanted the stuff we reach for most to be closer to the door. 

Spices and cooking oils are layered on top with tiered organizers like the canned goods. These are life savers!! They make it so much easier to see what you have on deeper shelves. 

Breakfast stuff is on it's own shelf. I keep packets of hot cereal in a basket so we know when we're running low.

Baking necessities and sweets are on the next shelf. I tried to keep the foods we reach for the most often on eye level. I don't bake that often so those are best a little lower. 

The bottom baskets hold snacks -- bags of chips and crackers. I only added baskets to the bottom shelves because when we pull them out it's easy to see what's inside. (Up higher and you have to pull them all the way out to sort around):

As we move around we get to less food and more appliances and paper goods. This corner spot is nice and deep and holds a TON, but it's also harder to get to. In hindsight I would have asked for the corner to be squared off so these aren't so deep. But I'm not complaining!

Our small appliances that I use IN the kitchen are on the top shelf -- meaning those that I take out and use on the counter. This will make more sense in a minute.

Next shelf is alcohol -- I know it looks like a store. 😂 We used to keep most alcohol in our basement, which was nice, but we would buy more of what we already had because...out of sight, out of mind. We keep extra lime juice and mixes here too.

The next shelf is stuff we grab for lunches -- peanut butter, crackers, bread. In the bin I have the small lunch-sized stuff like chips. It makes it super easy to pack our boy's lunch in the morning!

The bottom is the random stuff -- there are always items you don't know what to do with! The bag holder could go on the wall but it felt in the way anywhere else. The little fabric basket holds our trash bags. Plus extra foil and storage bags are here too: 

And finally, the side I'm most excited about! I moved the shelves around here a bit to make this work.

Tea and hot chocolate are at the top

The second shelf is where I keep our K-cups (isn't that organizer so cute!) and our vitamins 

The third shelf is for appliances we use in the pantry -- and I have a project in mind to make this even more functional! I'll let you know if it works out! You can see that the outlet is on the wall to the right. 

The bottom shelf is for extra paper/plastic stuff and our trash compactor bags:

Here's a closer look at that cute organizer for the K-cups! I found it in the check out lane at HomeGoods and thought it would work great. It is perfect!:

When we got the Keurig I realized it was much easier to keep our mugs in the pantry. I got this cute mug holder about a month ago and love that we can grab what we need right there:

This room is the smartest and most functional in the house and I LOVE it! I love it even more now that we can find exactly what we need when we walk in. And it's so much nicer when we're putting stuff away too. I should've done this a long time ago!

I found the Groceries sign at an antique shop a few weeks ago (but it's not an antique) -- isn't it perfect? I love touches of green in our mostly white kitchen:

There you go! This space is finally organized and working well for us! During the process I was a deer in headlights at times -- I would just stand in there and stare at the mess. But if you slow it down and really think about how you USE a space, it's easier to work it out in your head. 

And it found it helpful to remove EVERYTHING off the shelves -- every counter in our kitchen was covered! Then I went by section and added everything back in. I gave the shelves a good cleaning too. 

I would move all over again just for this pantry. :) It's amazing -- I love that we can keep more than just food in here. I did get rid of a few things and moved just a couple items to the basement. But overall what you see in the befores is what is in there now! We also keep the dog and cat food in this room (on the floor). 

Here's a resource list if you're interested in anything. We had everything but the mug rack and K-cup storage and I made the rest work in here. (Affiliate links included for your convenience!):

I can't find my sign online but this one is super cute and has the same wording!

I got the mug rack here -- most versions with good reviews in this design were SO expensive! This one still wasn't cheap but better than others (read reviews because some have hooks that are too close together and getting mugs on and off is difficult).

The baskets were from Target (I used them in our basement cubby storage) and they don't sell these exact ones anymore. These are SUPER close though -- same size and materials. 

These are the tiered can/spice shelves -- LOVE them and they make organizing these items so easy.

This round spice caddy is a favorite too -- it turns so you can find what you need.

You can see more about our timed cat feeders in this post!

I got my hanging wire shelves from HomeGoods but this one is very similar as well.

The wood and metal rolling cart we had in there was from World Market.

If you'd like to see more about how I organized our old pantry, check out this post! 

For more on the glass door I used on that pantry, you can go here:

SaveSave SaveSave

This content is property of Thrifty Decor Chick LLC. If you are reading this on any other site other than http://ift.tt/1kRxOJ2 or one of her social media platforms, please contact her immediately (thriftydecorchick at gmail dot com). Any other use of this content is strictly forbidden.