#lead belay

[possibilistfanfiction]

CaitVi prompt: hugs

[ok s/o the one person who wanted a climbing au lmao. this rly isn't abt climbing, it's just a silly meet cute thru jinx's pov. i love sisters ur honor! also idk jinx is a cooler name than powder so that's what we're going with lol. incredibly minimal angst :)]

//

keep your helmet on this; finish dressing your knot that; vi triple checks the number of quick draws you have on your harness — ‘i have twelve, and there’s only nine bolts, vi,’ you say again— while you roll your eyes so hard your whole head moves. she sighs, as marginally satisfied as she ever manages to be when you’re leading anything. 

‘okay,’ she says, checking her grigri carabiner for, like, the fifth time. 

‘okay.’ you roll your eyes once more for good measure before you establish on a truly disgusting set of crimps. ‘climbing.’

vi gives a very serious, ‘climb on,’ and since she can’t see you anymore, you let yourself smile. even though she’s annoying and hates when you take victory whips — your favorite — you do love her: she takes your life seriously. 

the route is gross, overhung with tricky feet and big moves, but vi had lead it just before you and made it look pretty easy, even though it’s her style and definitely not yours. still, you’re not going to back down from a challenge, even though admittedly she’s way stronger than you: you’re light and unafraid of falling, which sometimes evens the playing field. 

you yell out anchor and then take just like you’re supposed to once you finish the route, refusing to shake out your arms even though you’re pumped as hell, and vi lowers you smoothly. you expect her to have her utmost, full attention on you, but when you turn to talk about your beta as you undo your knot, you see vi very quickly get off belay and then take her fleece quarterzip — a black patagonia which had been your best thrift find of the past year, in your opinion — off in an almost frantic, decidedly uncool way. it’s even more ridiculous because it’s freezing and all vi has on under her jacket is her favorite ‘queer crush’ tank from your gym. she smiles in your direction — a small, proud one — but then her grin turns shy and she looks at someone else. 

the someone else in question, a few feet away, gearing up, is, admittedly, hot — you gotta give vi that.

she has dark hair that manages to look chic even under her helmet, pants actually designed for climbing, and an arcteryx down jacket — the right weight for the fucking weather, at least — and even her chalk bag and shoes look kind fancy; you notice a pair of very neat camp slippers sitting next to approach shoes you could only dream of, the socks in them in a neat little ball. 

‘caitlyn,’ she says to you, offers her hand in a firm shake — not a customary fist bump — before she ties in anywhere or chalks up. you’re kind of confused why she’s walking toward the start, but you introduce yourself anyway as you pull the rope.

‘cait is going to clean the route,’ vi explains as caitlyn ties in, another smile exchanged. ‘her climbing partner is peeing, so i offered to belay if she wanted to lead it.’

it’s a pretty gnarly 12a, and also vi never lets you clean anchors, mostly because you don’t think all the steps with a PAS are necessary and you take victory whips without announcing them first, but whatever. it’s boring anyway.

caitlyn and vi go through the most intense safety check, joyously, almost, vi practically giggling when she looks at caitlyn’s figure 8, her hand hovering over caitlyn’s waist when she checks the loops on her harness, and you sit with a huff on a small rock near enough the route you can watch. 

you do everyone the profound kindness of staying quiet until caitlyn clips into the first quickdraw and vi very officially says, ‘you are on belay, cupcake,’ but then you’ve had enough. 

‘cupcake?’

‘she’s sweet,’ vi says, concentrating more on belaying than she ever has in her life with you. you’re not stupid, so you can tell she’s really just trying to avoid you seeing her blush. 

‘sure, sis.’ you watch as caitlyn does a pretty sick high foot to hand match and mantles calmly; vi shouts some encouragement. ‘did you get hot belaying me?’

‘what?’

‘very smooth, showing cait your best asset right away. thanks for waiting until i was done, at least.’

vi scoffs. not convincing at all. ‘the wind has gone down.’

‘we’re in a slot canyon.’

caitlyn sails past the crux, incredibly technical and very calm. it’s unfortunately impressive. 

‘nice, cait!’ vi shouts. ‘that was sick!’

caitlyn, to your dismay, pauses after she clips into the next quickdraw — your least favorite hold on the whole route, a terribly chalked up sloper — and turns to give vi a thumbs up. 

you groan, long and drawn out, and flop onto your back while vi laughs. you’re no stranger to girls falling all over themselves to impress your sister, but this is one of the few times where one of them has actually been impressive. 

when you sit up, a guy who was watching caitlyn climb looks at you and laughs, immediately somehow in on it all, you can tell. 

‘i was gone for, like, ten minutes,’ he says. ‘cait already found a new partner?’

‘in more ways than one,’ you bemoan. you offer a fist bump, correct and cool climbing etiquette, not some stupid handshake. ‘that’s vi, my sister. and i’m jinx.’

‘jayce,’ he says, then looks up. ‘is cait cleaning the anchor?’

‘guess so.’

‘i wanted to climb that route.’ he’s definitely pouting, which you never do because it’s extremely undignified, obviously. 

‘you snooze, you lose, i guess.’ you shrug. ‘plus, i think they’re both just trying to impress each other. horrible. worst thing to happen today.’

‘i took a whip on slab,’ he says, shows you a scrape on his palm. ‘so maybe second worse.’

‘nah,’ you wave him off. ‘big whips are the best, most fun part of climbing.’

he looks at you like you’re crazy, which, like, you certifiably are, but even your therapist thinks that climbing with vi — and therefore with a lot of gear and safety checks — is good for getting your “intrusive impulses” out without too much danger. could be worse, you always tell her, because it has been. 

you don’t let yourself dwell on that, though, not out here on a cold, beautiful day, your hands stinging a little in the best way, the sun sinking just slightly. vi might be annoying and so, so gay, but she’s your favorite person in the world, hands down. for now, it’s okay. 

caitlyn calls for slack and then quickly and neatly cleans the anchor, and vi lowers her carefully while she takes the quickdraws out. they’re, like, basically about to kiss, you’re pretty sure, when caitlyn gets to the bottom, before she even unties her knot. 

‘that was amazing,’ vi says, full of genuine awe, as if the both of you didn’t also just lead that route. when caitlyn brushes her hand against vi’s — in thanks, you guess — vi blushes hard enough even you can see it. you’re relieved for her, honestly, when caitlyn’s cheeks are the same shade of pink.

and so the day goes like this: caitlyn sails up a run-out slab route vi had sworn off every other time you’d come to the crag, mostly because she’s so strong she hates slab and it’s truly heinous — the best route here, in your opinion — full of mono pockets and the tiniest foot jibs. it’s kind of embarrassing to watch vi tremble her way up, especially after she lets you lead it after caitlyn, but you actually do belay her carefully and caitlyn and jayce both shout encouragement. vi sends it, even though she’s a total baby and asks you to take twice. jayce — also really strong; also terrified of slab, which makes you laugh — and vi convince caitlyn to end on another overhang, exhausting and pumpy, and you only agree to do it too because you know vi won’t care as much if you fall on it. you send it first, take a giant whip off the top that you know vi will be annoyed at you for, but when she lowers you the rest of the way, she just smiles and taps the top of your helmet.

‘you’re getting so strong, jinx,’ she says, the easy, heartfelt compliment making you feel all warm inside. vander and ekko insist that you’re kind like vi, that you share the same big heart, and sometimes you think they might be right.

‘great job,’ caitlyn agrees, happily and without anything underlying, and jayce echoes the sentiment too. all day they’d both asked you thoughtful and caring questions about your studies, jayce especially excited when you told him you were going to school for mechanical engineering, and about your friends, your hobbies, books and music you’ve enjoyed lately.

kindness is too much for you, sometimes, especially when it’s easily given and true, so you duck off and set about pulling and coiling the rope; gathering the rest of the gear split into your packs — vi’s, of course, much heavier whenever you’re in charge.

still, she stops her flirting — caitlyn is talking about how she’s a doctor, or something, and vi wipes her sweaty face with the bottom of her tank before finally putting her jacket back on, then telling one of her bravest firefighter stories — to say, ‘thanks for doing all of this, sis,’ sincerely before shouldering her pack.

‘don’t mention it,’ you grumble, trudging out of the canyon back up toward your cars. the approach is short but steep, so thankfully they’re mostly quiet. but as you load everything up — yours into vi’s old bronco that you’d both fixed up with vander; caitlyn’s into a brand new forester with every “wilderness” add-on you could possibly think of — they exchange numbers with the promise to climb again soon, both indoors and at another of your favorite crags too. you’re sure caitlyn climbs at one of the fancy gyms in town, one that you can only afford a membership to because vi is a first responder and you’re a student, and even then just barely. 

horrifically, maybe the worst part of the day, is that caitlyn looks unsure for a moment but then opens her arms, and vi enthusiastically, and softly, hugs her for an amount of time that's way too intimate for having just met a friend at the crag. you’re a nice person after all, it turns out, because you don’t make a single gagging noise. you do catch jayce’s eye, though, and he lifts a brow, fighting a laugh. you duck your head, but it makes you smile too. 

they longingly wave goodbye one last time, and then vi glares at you when you start to laugh as she pulls out of the spot and onto the dirt road out of the canyon, flooring it a little more than necessary. 

‘hey,’ you say, ‘why are you all —' you motion to her, the furrow in her brow and the downturned corners of your mouth.

she slows down, taking the next turn and rut in the road carefully, like usual. ‘i just — i don’t even know if she’s queer, first of all.’

‘other than, like, her expertise at pockets —‘

‘— jinx—‘

‘— and the fact that she was all over you for, like, three hours, she had a trans flag on her helmet,’ you offer, taking a little pity on vi. ‘and she drives a subaru.’

vi sighs. ‘she’s — i mean, you can tell. wealthy and smart and gorgeous. i’m, well —‘

‘hot and kind and also smart?’

for someone who’s always bugging you about accepting compliments, she’s terrible at it. you know she holds a lot, feels inadequate in so many ways, because she couldn't save your parents, and because she was incarcerated, and because you grew up poor, and because she can't fix everything for you all the time.

‘look, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for you,' you tell her honestly; it's important. 'especially some idiot who wears arcteryx.’

vi laughs; you don’t mention that it’s a little watery with tears.

‘you save people for a living. your muscles are insane. you help me with school, and refilling my meds, and you always pay rent on time, and we can even eat out now, whenever we want. you’ve read, like, seventy books this year. you like podcasts about nature, which i only know because you make me listen to them with you while we drive anywhere.’

it’s quiet — no podcast, not just now — for a minute or two, but then vi nods.

‘i guess you’re right.’

‘i’m always right. i’ve literally never been wrong.’

‘shut the fuck up.’

you laugh, delighted, and put your socked feet on the dash just so vi can swat them off. 

‘so, anyway, do you wanna tell me more about how caitlyn being perfect at pockets made you feel, or…’

‘i will throw you out of this car.’

‘you’d never.’

‘i might.’

you laugh; when she pulls onto the paved road you take her hand in yours, lace your fingers together, put on a song you love that she hates. she rolls her eyes but sings along anyway.

[reineydraws]

botw link in the climbing set! i drew this for a zine called link's closet, i'll reblog with the download link when it comes out 🥰

[tomatoluvr69]

It’s a rainy day which sucks bc my job is otherwise entirely outside. But coworker around whom I fuck around less is out sick so I’m going to be making the students listen to The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald and give the activities a shipwreck theme. How do you do this you might ask. Well the answer is you do all the normal stuff but you ask them a bunch of questions about what they’d do if they were in a shipwreck to get the conversations flowing. Are you actually gonna do this? you might ask. no 💛 but maybe 💛

[travelingwithoutthedoctor]

Morning. Evening.

Everything in between.

[ooffmlsorry]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

A/N: I swear I'm gonna work on my prompt posts after this but it was unexpectedly cold today and I was not ready 😭

Your feet crunched loudly underneath you. The snow comes up to your shines, forcing you to take high trudging steps. The wind is throwing snowflakes into your face, and your tears live short liquid lives before turning to ice on your cheeks.

So far, your first experience with snow is...hell on earth.

If hell froze over, that is.

The rest of the crew were completely comfortable in the weather, but what could you expect? The navigator was a polar bear after all. Someone had said something about part of the crew being from the frigid North Blue, which was suddenly beginning to make sense.

"There's gotta be something wrong with him," you muttered into the scarf wrap around the lower half of your face. It was swampy and damp against your skin, collecting snot and condensation from your breath. Disgusting. But at least it kept your lips and nose from going numb.

The plan was to rendezvous with the rest of the crew on the other side of the island. Bepo was leading the others across, and as the next best thing to a navigator, you were to guide and stay with Law to wait for them at this shabby excuse for a cabin.

You surveyed the white wasteland outside the window. A sheet of startling blue sky loomed overhead. Speaking of Law, you turned to look at your captain just slightly behind you. You couldn't read anything on his expression, but the fact that he didn't look nearly as miserable as you told you enough.

The shack you waited in had nothing except four walls and a fireplace--trees for firewood not included.

"How do you stand this?!" You say. "I'm so cooold!" The end of your whining turns into fake sob.

"Keep your eyes ahead, y/n-ya," Law says. The slight upward pull of his lips turns the neutral resting bitch face he normally has into an amused smirk.

You exaggerate your pout, "that's all I get?! This is my first time in the snow and it's awful! I'm freezing!"

Law chuckles. "It's not my fault you were raised on a tropical island."

Law only wears his hat, a coat--the same one you remember him wearing on Punk Hazard--and a pair of gloves. He's practically naked compared to your hat, gloves, scarf, dense coat, and wool snow pants.

You sigh loudly, your shoulders slump miserably in front of you. Law watches you with a twinkle in his eyes that causes warmth to bloom across your face.

The look in his eyes belays a fondness he normally hides.

He's enjoying this.

"How long do you think it will take the others to get here?" He asks you.

Business as usual, then. You walk back over to the shack's window to observe the sky.

"There's still no sign of clouds. In fact, snow blindness might be an issue for the rest of the crew. They're walking on a plateau, far away from any slopes so they won't have to work against any winds. I'd say three hours? Maybe a little less since some of you are cold weather natives." A draft blows cold winds through the cabin, making you shudder all the way down to your toes. "I can't wait until we literally blow this popsicle stand."

Law wraps his arms around you from behind. His front flush to your back and his chin resting on the top of your head.

"Oh?"

You lean in to him and stuff his hands into your front pockets so you can hold them. Gloved fingers intertwine. You have just enough room to lovingly stroke your thumb across the back of Law's hand. A wordless thank you.

"I won't listen to you complain about how cold it is for that long." Law's voice rumbles from. "I'll warm you up."

You watch the snow drift and dance in the wind through icy windows. You never knew the ice crystals people spoke of were truly crystals, until you saw them on the window. The last time you saw the sky this blue was back on your home island. Cloudless and comfortingly blue.

"It's actually kind of pretty," you say quietly.

"It can be," Law responds. He surprises you further by pressing a kiss to your temple. "You were too busy freezing your ass off to notice."

[kyaslins]

KYALIN 📚 MASTERLIST (so I never lose it)

[last updated march 26th 2024]

[WORK IN PROGRESS]

- something tragic about you

- coriander and lilies

- soft landing

- never have I ever

- there’s something about you

- silent echoes

- like old times

- how this grace thing works

- and everything’s clear

- now that I’ve found you

- music to my ears

- one year (I can't quite find the words to explain how I feel)

- compassion

- it’s okay to take a break

- kyalin sketches and adventures (series)

- weigh me down, please lay me down

- the way to a woman’s heart (is through her stomach)

- on belay

- slumber party

- why’d she have to walk into mine?

- you don’t have to be alone

- brief reprieve

- the ember island tango

- every single broken heart (will lead you to the truth)

- tears

- dinner

- you had me at aloe

- wisdom, wisdom, where can I get some?

- let the rain fall (and wash your clean spirit)

- even breathing feels alright

- baby, you taste so rich

- disenchanted

- I will remember you, the way you are right now

- trust

- finally

- heated confessions

- did you know, that I see you?

- all and then most of you

- a healing sunrise

- sleep like a stone

- sunshine

- nows not the time

- let me have a look

- free day

- touch

- everybody talks

- we’ve got chemistry (I’ve got my ion you)

- tulips

- you should probably leave

- in losing you, I found me

- love is blind

- battle scars and buttercups

- the darkest night, the longest day

- hang on to what’s real

- carry you always

- you’re in my soul now

- imagine me and you

- hold me closer

- kinder words

- my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

- red blanket nights

- honey, being around you is all I need

- I never did believe in miracles (but i’ve a feeling it’s time to try)

- attraction 101

- the person falling here is me

- a spark the pierce the dark

- merry christmas, lin beifong

- the kiss at ember island

- different scars

- dance partners

- bad dreams leave me when im with you

- one year (I can’t quite find the words to explain how I feel)

- five minutes to midnight

- kya’s idea

- emergency contact

- hit the back

- stay

- the chief takes a holiday (sequel to stay)

- an evening out

- softly and slowly

- the long way round

- is it too late (to come on home)

- drabble kyalin collection

- stolen flowers

- jealousy

- the cracked nut

- after the wedding

- im glad you’re staying

- you don’t look at me in the dark

- I was lost without you

- just go get her

- lucky number seven

- late bloomer

-patience

[skyward-floored]

The Lost Woods aren’t so bad.

Not after traversing them more times then Link can count, at least. Sure the paths shift, and monsters occasionally slip their way inside to hide in the bushes and trees, but Link knows the way to the clearing where he needs to go.

The forest only needs to let him.

His boots cut through soft grass, an occasional crunch belaying a leaf. The song of the woods is on the wind, and Link follows its winding tune, the pipes of water, strings and drums of leaves and branches. Quiet giggles make his ears twitch, but Link knows to ignore them.

He plays the game of the Woods, walking its paths, watching poes with a careful eye to see where they lead. The song dances by, high and low, loud and soft, and the flute that sometimes joins it makes his heart ache.

Time stretches strangely under the canopy of trees and fog— Link feels like he’s been here for hours now, but the glimpses of sunshine that peek through the branches are no different from how it was when he arrived. Link passes through another clearing, doubt beginning to nip at his heels. They’re not called the Lost Woods for no reason after all, and he’s starting to wonder if he hasn’t passed their test this time.

Is it because of what I’ve done since last I’ve been here?

But then something in the air, in him, clicks, eases, Link doesn’t know the word. But it’s like a fog lifts from his vision, and the path he needs to take is suddenly obvious. Link follows the pull past flowers and stones, over a barely-there path. It guides him through the yawning mouth of a log, and birds softly chirp as he emerges into a familiar clearing.

Fog drifts past his boots as he looks around, and a single shaft of sunlight breaks past the trees, drawing his vision to sparkling blue.

Link exhales, and steps forward, squirrels and other small creatures darting away into the bushes. He steps up onto the small stone platform, and doesn’t move for a long moment, looking at where the Master Sword sits with wisps of fog and sunlight dancing around her. Waiting for him.

“Hey old girl,” Link says softly, and for some reason his throat aches as he rests a hand on her hilt. “Been a while.”

The metal under his skin is both hot and cold, warmed by the sun’s light, and cooled by the stone it rests in. Despite years exposed to the elements, the Master Sword isn’t covered in greenery like it was the first time Link found her. Nor is her shine diminished in the slightest. Her blade is dimmed only because she rests, her power waiting for the next hero who needs her.

Who just happens to be Link again.

A shaking sigh escapes him, and Link puts both of his hands around her hilt, the electrifying hot-and-cold sharp-and-soft thrill of her power zipping through him as he pulls.

The Master Sword slips loose just like it did when he pulled her the first time, and Link raises her to the sky, the fog parting and fading away. The sunlight brightens somehow, making her sparkle and glow, and Link’s throat tightens again.

He hadn’t realized until now how badly he’d missed her.

Link lowers the blade again, running a hand over her cool steel as he studies her, looking over her finer points to familiarize himself with the weapon once again. Something is different, he realizes after a minute or two. And when it finally dawns on him what it is, he holds the Master Sword tighter, almost hugging her.

“I’ve grown,” he says quietly.

The blade fits his size now.

Instead of the still-pudgy hands of a child grasping at her hilt, there’s the worn hands of an adventurer ghosting along the metal, scars catching in her grooves. There’s blood staining his hands now that wasn’t there before, yet she still allowed him to pull her.

“You fit better, now,” he continues, voice shaking a little. “Hopefully this’ll... make things easier.”

His breath hitches, and Link swallows it back, clasping the sacred blade in his arms like one would an old friend.

He squeezes his eyes closed.

“I guess I thought I wouldn’t be doing this again,” Link whispers, ghosting his fingers along the gem in her hilt. “Not... not after the last one.”

Not after what I did.

The metal seems to warm just a hair, like the sunshine got pulled into it, and Link rests his head against the Master Sword, allowing a single drop of saltwater to trail down his cheek.

“Thanks,” he croaks, and the softest, faintest of chimes echoes in his heart.

It’s enough to pull him from the grief that was threatening to swallow him up again, and Link sets aside the weight of an island, and focuses instead on the weight of the sword, and his kingdom.

He’s needed. He can’t get lost in grief.

Link breathes out, running his hand along the steel one more time, and then he gently sheathes her, stepping down from the platform.

“Here we go again old girl,” he says as he steps outside of the clearing, weary with grief, but determined to stop the evil returning yet again.

He closes his eyes.

“One more time.”

A single pure note chimes in his chest, and Link feels something other than grief wrap itself around him, urging him forward to take another step, to press on despite the weight.

It feels a little bit like hope.

[princesslightgiggles]

Truth or Dare

Gathered in Eddie's cluttered, cramped trailer, the friends sat in a circle surrounded by mismatched pillows and dim lighting. The atmosphere was filled with excitement and anticipation as the bottle spun, leading to bursts of laughter and playful banter. When it was Eddie's turn, he chose "dare" with a characteristic smirk, ready for whatever challenge awaited him.

He drew a card from the stack, his heart beating a little faster. As he read the dare, a hint of pink colored his cheeks. "Let the person to your left tickle your feet for two minutes."

Eddie's eyes met yours, seated to his left, and he saw the mischievous glint in your eyes. He knew just how ticklish he was and the thought of enduring that in front of everyone (especially cocky, pretty boy Steve Harrington) made him uneasy. Nevertheless, determined not to back down, he nodded and prepared himself for the inevitable.

Without hesitation, you began to lightly tickle Eddie's bare feet. He erupted into uncontrollable laughter almost instantly, his body writhing and squirming as he tried to handle the ticklish assault. The others watched, the younger kids laughing and cheering you on, watching the leader of the Hellfire club come utterly undone.

As you scribbled over the balls of his feet, Eddie jerked wildly. “Shit….. shit…… ahahahaha….. stop….. please…… not there…. ah fuck!” he mumbled between frantic giggles. He was determined not to pull his feet away. Eddie always played by the rules… when it came to games anyway.

Those two minutes felt like an eternity for Eddie. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he struggled to catch his breath between fits of laughter. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, every touch sent him into hysterics.

When the timer finally ran out, Eddie sat there, breathless and disheveled, his face flushed from laughter, messy curls everywhere. He avoided looking at anyone, feeling self-conscious about his reaction. Trying to regain his composure, he reached for a joint lying nearby, lighting it with shaky hands. He took a deep drag, the familiar sensation helping to steady his racing heart. As he exhaled slowly, the tension began to melt away, and he glanced over at you. You looked positively gleeful.

“You enjoyed that way too much Y/N” he grumbled, feigning being sulky. “I thought we were taking a break from monsters and torture tonight?” He raised an eyebrow and a small smile played on his lips, belaying that he wasn’t really mad at you.

You poked him in the ribs and he jumped with a yelp. “Careful Eddie” you warned. “They say the tickle monster is the worst monster of them all. You would do best not to upset me”. You wiggled your fingers menacingly in his direction.

Eddie shuffled backwards away from you, not taking any chances about your threat but found himself backing into Steve who pinned his arms behind his back and said with a wink and a shit-eating-grin “y’know… I think Eddie here could do with some more laughter in his life, after the week he’s just had. What do ya say we help him out?” He spoke to the group.

The younger kids thought this sounded like tremendous fun and all piled in to scribble fingers over ribs, knees, feet, armpits…. Anything they could while the metalhead laughed, bucked, screamed and writhed in Steve’s grasp.

For tonight, the sound of laughter coming from the trailer would serve to keep anything bad away and tomorrow the group would fight whatever came their way, with a renewed sense of camaraderie.

[artralichoard]

Rock Climbers au

Last and definitely NOT least, Raph is the Boulderer of the brothers. He loves pushing his strength on really complex routes and intense overhanges. He is either in an intense focus trying to complete his latest boulder problem, or doing the most rediculous things on the wall. He will rope anyone and everyone into his shinanigans. "ok but what if we do this route with JUST our left hand and leg? yeah? that would be fun!" or "what if we put our hand here on this hold, then use this hold to keep your self on the wall- what? yeah I know mean you'd be upside down but thats fine! it goes. trust me" or "oh wait! this hold is perfect for a bathang, donnie c'mon lets see who can hang the longest!"

Boulder is also really fun for Raph because it helps him work on his problem solving skill and thinking ahead. Theres been plenty of time where the brothers are cheering Raph on while he works on a particularly hard problem, only for him to pause mid route. when asked Raph can only respon "I didn't think I'd get this far! wheres the next hold? where do I go from here!?" before falling off the wall in defeat. Donnie tries to instill routereading into Raphs head but it never sticks.

Outside of Bouldering, Raph also like Top Rope. He like working on his stamina, which Top Rope climbing definitely puts to the test. Especially when he has Mikey belaying him, who will bring out Dr. Delicate Touch to get Raph up the wall! "ok I don't think I got anything left, you can bring me down Mikes!" "Nope! you aint getting down till I say so! now go one more time!" He like the burn of a good work out, but hates the idea of Lead Climbing and refuses to try it despite Leo's askance. Top Rope however give Raph the security to climb taller walls reletively stress free.

Mikey | Leo | Donnie

Hooray all the boys are done!!! I really enjoyed making all of these, I can never draw Raph too well so I am exteremely happy with how this turned out! (I may be a little biased as Raph has always been my fave in almost any iteration and I am a boulderer at heart)

Like I mentioned in Mikey's post, most if not all of the inspiration for this au come from my irl experience climbing with my friends. some of the poses I used even are straight up from pics I have of us in our shinannigans XD.

I might come back to this to include April, Casey and Jr. but i'm not 100% sure so for now that is all!! thank you for tolerating my self induldgant au!

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪, 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕘𝕠 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

ᴘᴛ ɪ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴇ. ᴘᴛ ɪɪ ꜱᴛᴀᴠᴇ. ᴘᴛ ɪɪɪ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ. ᴘᴛ ɪᴠ ꜱɪɴ. ᴘᴛ ᴠ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ. ᴘᴛ ᴠɪ ꜱᴇɴᴅᴏꜰꜰ.

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴇɴᴛᴀɴɢʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ꜰʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴄᴏᴜɴꜱᴇʟᴏʀ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴀᴜ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴡᴀʀꜱ ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴍɪɴᴇꜱꜱ, ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ʙʟɪꜱꜱ, ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛɪɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜱᴋɪɴɴʏ ᴅɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ (ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ/ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ)

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 3ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ ᴡʜᴏ'ꜱ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ. ʟᴍꜰᴀᴏ ʟᴇᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :)

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀ���3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

After that night, the summer quickly becomes a glimmering haze of sexy, sweet escapades in slimmers of ample time alone.

Hunter becomes your best-kept secret. You act the same around others, amicable friends who get along well in the same room or during the same activity. But the moment you get a time without a horde of campers following your trail, you’re finding a secluded spot and placing your hands all over each other. It’s practically habitual by now.

They’re the best summer memories.

Hunter’s no longer a daunting figure of appeal far of your reach. He’s someone you have in your arms, and who’s just as enraptured with you as you are him.

You learn this fact one particular day as you instruct the campers how to properly scale the rock wall.

“Your harness is there to guide you, not to rely on,” You emphasize, looking down with a hard stare to get your point across. The campers look down with slack jaws and lazy eyes, legs itching to run and grab a harness and get to climbing already. You won't just let them, and continue your lesson.

“It doesn’t help you or your partner if you put your whole weight onto it.” Echo, who holds your belay below you, nods in agreement. “You have to communicate with your partner as well. Whether you need slack or for them to tighten your rope, you need to express what you need them to do. Nothing will get done otherwise.”

The campers nod adamantly, though you’re sure the second they get their hands on the harnesses and begin scaling, all your instructions will leave their minds.

Once you've climbed down and gotten out of your gear, Hunter’s holding onto your wrist loosely and muttering into your ear, voice soft and discreet.

“Y’think they can go on without you?”

His hand tugs your wrist closer to him as if beckoning you to come closer and follow him wherever he may lead. You glance his way excitedly, a bright-eyed, curious grin over your lips.

“Probably," you mutter.

Hunter’s smile matches yours.

“Backroom by the kitchens in ten.”

All you need to do is nod and wait to ensure Echo’s got it handled before you run off to the kitchens and into his arms, kissing him silly.

Hunter’s hands are on your waist, holding them to his in a lock you wouldn’t dare try to separate while he pushes you against a storage shelf. His fingers dip into your waistband; they don’t venture much further, only pinch at the waistband of your pants to keep you extra still and pliant in his hands. You don’t mind. 

You can’t mind when he’s kissing you like this.

It doesn’t take long for his bandana to slip off when your fingers run through his hair. Your hands map little paths to the roots of his locks to tug on when he kisses you just right, to encourage him to keep going, move there, stay just like that. Hunter’s a better listener than most; he’d happily do anything you ask of him.

The touches get more frantic the longer you kiss; his hands frantically move around as if he can’t decide where his hands deserve to be.

Then, the realization hits you; the desperation finally makes clear sense in your head as he nips at your bottom lip.

He wants this more than you do. He wanted you badly, mirroring how you might at any point.

“Really- hah -eager today, yeah?” You tease between light pecks, sighing as you tilt your jaw and Hunter leans down to kiss your neck. You tug on his hair. He groans.

“Kriff– yeah, I am,” His voice sounds so rough and keen you border on swelling with pride for making him this way. “You should’ve seen yourself on that wall.”

You raise an eyebrow, an incredulous smirk twisting on your lips before he kisses it away again.

“Yeah?” You mutter, still managing to smile a little as he litters kisses on your jaw, pressing up against you harder. “How’d I look?”

Hunter’s mouth leaves your body just long enough to tell you exactly what you want to hear.

“So damn pretty,” he swears, trailing his mouth to your ear. His knee gently parts your legs and encourages you to relax against his body, to let him hold you against the shelf; who are you to reject such an offer? “The way you worked so quick, how you gazed down, your ass in those jeans and thighs around that harness– fuck.”

Hunter kisses you nice and hard again, and you try your best to not feel so smug.

It’s rather nice knowing you have such an effect on him.

Moments like these happen often. Between or even during activities, after lights out when Tech has finished his nightly inspections. You end up on the docks again, legs careening back and forth over wading water while you intertwine his hands with his.

“That star up there,” Hunter points, turning your attention to the twinkling sky. “Right there, above that odd-looking tree. `You see it?”

“I do,” you confirm, tilting your head. “What about it?”

The stars in the dark sky hugging you from above glitters and twinkles, brighter than in any city or town. It’s always been the prettiest sight you’re lucky to lay your eyes upon every summer, and nothing had yet beat it. Until Hunter, at least.

“Well,” he begins, squeezing your hand that’s holding his. His finger trails a path from that star to the next on its left, then another, and another. “That’s a constellation. What do you think it makes up?”

You squint your eyes, unsure of what they could make. There’s little to tell from just a few stars scattered.

“A… line?” You answer dumbly. Hunter snorts and nudges your shoulder gently.

“`Thinking too simple.”

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff!” You retort, a little louder than you should. But you quickly correct yourself with a coy smile, your next words hushed. “It just looks like a bunch of lights to me.” You shrug dejectively.

“Don’t worry,” his reassurance only alleviates you slightly, and he tilts your jaw back to the stars with a keen gaze. “Just try one more time. For me?”

Your answer comes automatically.

“Of course.”

So you do try. Follow the patterns and see what sort of shape it could make, and, perhaps, what he might be trying to hint at.

When it does dawn upon you what constellation you’re looking at, you turn to face him incredulously. He’s already got that mischievous tilt in his eyebrows you know is trouble. Or deception. You’re still not great at pinpointing what he’s feeling or thinking.

“Is it a heart?” You ask, biting your lip.

“Bingo,” Hunter answers. A strand of hair falls from behind your ear to frame your face; this time, you let him tuck it back, as he’d urged you to do before. He gestures to the sky, and you look back.

“See?” He points. “Does it make sense now?” You nod. His index finger traces a short line from the star at the bottom of the heart shape to the one in the middle. “That’s the pole.”

“The… pole?” You repeat bemusedly, eyes still glued to the sky. Hunter chuckles.

“It’s kind of like… a marker. So we know which way to turn.” He pauses; in the flicker of a firefly wading by the shores of the lake, his light-hearted tone turns soft and he squeezes your hand again. “It’s the same with us.”

It’s your turn to squeeze. You gaze back in his direction.

“So,” he starts, eyes locking with yours. “You’re the one I turn to, right? No matter what the situation is.” By now he’s grinning like a fool, eyes alit with something gentle. “You’re the one.”

You smile back, confirming with a sealing, firm kiss.

“I am. And so are you.”

When you see the look on his face, an almost melancholy wave rushes through; the words that hang on the tip of your tongue mean something to you, something you wish were true, but ultimately can’t be. 

The daunting question in your head still remains.

How much time do we have left?

You say it anyway.

“Always.”

Hunter repeats it, that same coloring in his eyes, as if he’s asking himself the exact same question.

”Always.”

You hum and lean in, eager to mold his lips to yours again and let the hurtling feeling dissolve, and he doesn’t back down; he presses into you harder, quicker, hands grasping your waist to pull you to his chest. You want him to keep going until your heart starts to skip beats on the staff until you feel all the ways you’re ready to fall for him. 

He does exactly that.

“The water’s nice today,” Hunter pulls away from you abruptly, a boyish grin over his features. You smirk, raising an eyebrow as you watch him push his body up and reach his full height, body looming above you; somehow, it’s nowhere close to being threatening.

“Yeah?” You tilt your head as you gaze up. Hunter chuckles.

“I checked,” He confirms, gesturing toward the quiet ripples of the water. “Thought maybe you’d want to take a little dip. With me.” 

When his hand reaches out to yours, the rough callouses of his skin look so inviting and delectable when offered exclusively to you, that it’d be impossible to deny it.

So you take it and lift yourself, pecking his lips one more time before skipping off the dock and to the shore.

Hunter’s already shucked his shirt onto the ground just by the time you get your shoes and socks off, bare feet meeting the soft sand. You’ve seen him shirtless enough times at this point (in almost entirely amorous situations), yet the view always hitches your breath and makes you tug your bottom lip between two teeth.

And without fail every time, Hunter notices and smiles in that boyish manner you’re incredibly weak for.

“Are you just gonna stare?” he asks with a chuckle. You can feel it reverberate through your own body.

“I thought that staring is allowed,” you retort, raising your eyebrows. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“If you stop, we’ll never get to the good part,” Hunter smirks, kicking off his shorts and dipping his feet into the shallows, turning back to you. “Aren’t you going to join?”

It’s that same damn sight again. The one you tried so hard to block out of your mind that one night but never seemed to leave. Hunter wading in the water, in the dark, stripped completely. 

Who are you to look away?

With little hesitation, you shuck your bottoms off. Your panties come down with it. Hunter’s eyes pop out of their sockets for a split second, then he turns back into that casually composed charmer you know him to be.

You take off your shirt next, shifting your weight between your heels as you reach back to unclip your bra, and you let it fall beside the rest of your clothes, the sneakiest grin wrapped on your lips as you leave Hunter gawking in his boxers.

With a giggle, you join him in the water, caressing his cheek before wading further into the lake shore until your waist down is submerged in the lukewarm water.

“Are you just going to leave me in here?” You tease, curling a finger up to beckon him closer. Hunter’s frozen state finally breaks, and he laughs softly, shaking his head almost in disbelief. It doesn’t take much for him to strip down to nothing as well, leaving him in a half-hard state as he sinks into the water with you.

His hands don’t take long to find their place on your hips, thumbs gently tracing a pattern into the skin over your ribs.

“You’re bold today,” he comments. You scoff.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” He flashes you a knowing look, expecting you to agree without putting up even a little defense. “You’re always a little bashful about things like this.”

Slapping his chest lightly, he laughs again and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. 

“Well, let this prove otherwise,” you say. It’s the softest kiss you plant on his lips, simple yet sweet, and he pulls away smiling like a fool. “I’m not always bashful.”

Hunter nods. 

“You’re not.” He leans down to kiss you again.

“Thanks for agreeing,” you mumble into his mouth after you withdraw for a moment to breathe.

“Anytime, Maple.”

You step back further, inviting both of you to go deeper into the water. His lips find your neck, and he bites softly, paying no mind to the goose bumps that form on your skin the instant he gets his mouth on you. Hunter’s always been more than you bargained for.

“I never want you to stop,” you admit, shivering as a cold gust of wind hits the bare skin still not submerged in the water. Hunter pulls away.

“Are you sure?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing. 

There’s a pang of frustration growing in your chest with his hesitance, but you quickly let it fizzle away when you giggle and splash a little water in his direction to lighten the mood.

“When have I not been sure, Hunter?” You tease, and he lets out a heavy exhale and smiles for you.

“One day you might not be,” he comments, dipping down to kiss you again. You hum against his lips then mutter with fluttering eyes.

“Today’s not that day.”

You press your body into him and bite your lip as you feel his cock twitch and harden fully against your stomach.

Hunter nods in agreement, holding your waist firmly before leaning down and sinking both of you into the water.

-

Keeping your little fling a secret easily becomes the most painful part of the entire summer.

It’s been a firm rule since you started as a camp counselor and has stayed the same even as Hunter arrived; dating another counselor is strictly against the rules. The rule had been easy to follow before, before you’d been swept and flown to cloud nine and right into Hunter’s open arms, now impossible for you to adhere to.

How could you? How could he?

But you try your best. Keep him at a safe and appropriate distance in front of others. Leaving marks in discreet spots. Smiling politely.

You only allow one indicator that something else may have blossomed. It remains wrapped around your wrist, with its matching counterpart on Hunter’s.

“What are your favorite colors?” His voice interrupts you one day as you do crafts in the mess hall. You startle, twisting your body back and raising an eyebrow.

“What?” You have to make sure you heard him correctly.

“What are your favorite colors?” He repeats, grinning.

You tilt your head, a suspicious grin on your lips.

“Why do you want to know?” You hum, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Hunter purses his lips, eyes flitting away before returning to your face with the cheekiest wink (you think no one else is looking. You hope).

“It’s a secret.” 

That makes you snort. With a light flutter of your lashes, you tell him and watch him spin off back to the table he and the Cedar cabin are sitting at, and you turn as well, staring at the bracelet adorning the same color his bandana.

And that same night, each of you has the same thought in mind.

“I have something for you,” you tell him, a gentle smile filled with affection on your face. Hunter raises his eyebrows, bemused as he bites his lip. You play with the bracelet behind your back, shoulders leaning onto the rock structure behind you.

“You do?” He asks. You nod. “What are the chances? I have something for you as well.”

You giggle softly, bringing your hand out from behind your back and showing him the silver and maroon, square-knot bracelet. He smiles.

“I like the color,” he tells you before reaching for the bracelet. You lift your hand away, tutting with a click of your tongue.

“You can only get it if you promise me something,” you challenge. Hunter hums in curiosity.

“What might that be?”

“That you keep it. Even after the summer ends. That you wear it,” your expression softens, a gentle switch to something more sentimental, almost melancholic upon thinking about what you’re vaguely implying; the inevitable outcome of this little fling.

Hunter’s tongue darts out to lick his lips slowly, as if contemplating your words; not as if he’s thinking about the request, but more thinking about what you implied. He then looks up again, eyes thoughtful as he nods.

“I will. I promise.”

Your lashes flutter and your cheeks burn when you smile again and put the bracelet around his wrist with the rest of them.

"Could I ask the same thing for you?" He then asks when you tighten it to the size of his wrist. You tilt your head, then watch him pull out the bracelet he made for you with a shy look. You'd already had your suspicions as to why he asked you for your favorite colors, but this confirms your prediction as you see the chevron knot bracelet.

“That you keep it, and wear it. Not all the time, but just enough... so you don't forget.”

He lets the final words hang for you to decide where he might go. Forget him, forget this summer, forget how he feels pressed up against you, perhaps something else entirely, or a combination, or all at once. He doesn't have to say it explicitly. Both of you are on the same page.

You instantly respond,

“Of course,”

Before lifting your wrist for him to put the bracelet around. He does it delicately, as if you’re the finest piece of art ever created, and rubs his pinkie over your skin thoughtfully. Your eyes bore into his.

“I promise I’ll keep it. Remember it. Remember you.”

Hunter smiles and kisses your wrist where the bracelet wraps around it, lowering himself until his knees hit the ground and proceeding to take your breath away.

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[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 25 | Where Were You...

Chapter Twenty-Five | Where Were You…

Kit walked briskly through the walls, heart refusing to calm as it thundered against her ribs. Her thoughts dwelled on everything that had just happened. She was completely consumed with nothing else and relied completely on muscle memory as she traversed the beams leading back home.

What was that all about?

That kid thinks he’s a human! That Borrower kid thinks he’s a human.

He called out for her as if she was his mom.

What’s his deal?

That guy Kers was right.

This is insane.

That kid is a pet, and he doesn’t even know it. There’s no way that human woman treats him like her actual son.

Humans don’t see Borrowers as anything other than pets!

“Where were you?”

Kit stopped dead in her tracks and realized she was just outside of her home, and her brother Finnick was waiting outside for her. He was casually leaned up against the front entrance. He didn’t even try to hide the fact he was waiting for her.

Kit huffed and tried pushing past her brother, but he easily stepped in front of her and blocked the doorway.

“You went, didn’t you?” asked Finnick. The eldest Borrower brother suspected his sister would do something foolish, but he was too late to catch her or stop her from doing anything. He had tailed Kers to make sure he wasn’t going immediately to the human woman and doubled back once he was done. There was just this looming, instinctual feeling that Finnick couldn’t shake.

When he talked to his parents, they said she hadn’t come down for dinner, but she had responded when they asked if she was there.

This was hours ago.

He went to her room, hoping beyond hope that Kit didn’t do something ridiculous, and knocked on her door. The lack of response said it all. The eldest brother ducked outside and saw her window wide open and her belay thread hanging there in a challenging taunt.

With only one idea of where she went after all of these hours, Finnick knew there was nothing to be done except to wait and see what happened. There was no way he could get there in time, if he could even find out where the Borrower kid was staying down below in the human world and then find his sister on top of that.

Kit had this bad habit of doing what she thought was right regardless of the consequences, and now was one of those times.

Finnick could only hope that she was successful.

Sadly, seeing his sister storming up in a daze in absent minded frustration, Finnick knew she had failed.

This led them to their moment now as he blocked her way into their home.

“Well?” he prompted. His sister clenched her jaw and jerked her head away.

“Well what? Good for you! You caught me. Yeah, I went. Happy?” she grumbled under her breath. “Going to go tell mom and dad? Wake up the whole house so we can start moving?”

Finnick sighed and shook his head.

“No. I’ll save that privilege for you,” replied Finnick. “And the fact you don’t have him here with you means that Kers guy was telling the truth.”

“Yeah, so why don’t you rub it in my face more?” growled Kit as she tried to push past her brother. “Now, move!”

“Not before you tell me what happened. What was he like? Did he say anything?” asked Finnick. Kit folded her arms indignantly. She was shaking, though her brother couldn’t identify the sole reason as to why. Fear? Nerves? Frustration? Anger?

It didn’t matter because she decided to answer his question.

“He doesn’t know what he is, Fin. He thinks he’s human. You should’ve heard him crying out for his mom – that human. It was the weirdest thing I’ve ever see. He was living in some kind of weird doll house with wires and water all hooked up to it. It basically looked like a small human house with screens and tech all over the place. It was so weird.”

Finnick listened to his sister’s words and considered them carefully. It sounded impossible for a Borrower to slip so easily into living like a human; that is, if they lived like a Borrower at all.

Kers had said something about thinking this kid had spent most of his life living with this human. Did the human capture Parker’s parents? Did she take him away from them? Or was this actually a compassionate human taking care of an orphaned Borrower child?

Finnick sighed and stepped to the side, allowing his sister inside.

“Let’s just hope nothing comes of it. You need to tell mom and dad sometime tomorrow, and you and I will be going out first thing to make sure he doesn’t help the human tear down the house to try and find us,” said Finnick. “And if you don’t fess up, I’ll tell them in the worst way possible.”

“Goodie two shoes,” grumbled Kit under her breath as she pushed past Finnick.

The eldest Borrower child knew the family was in quite the precarious situation, but fretting in the middle of the night wasn’t going to solve the issue and they could only prepare for a reaction if anything came of it.

Who knew?

Maybe this Parker kid would think all of it was a bad dream and brush off seeing his sister.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

[saturnwisteria]

bitter coffee forrr …. Viv and Rory 😇😇😇

Bitter Coffee AU

☆☆☆

Viv scrubs her hands down her face in an attempt to shoo off the sleep still lingering around. She finds an empty table near the back of the mess and hunkers down to wait for the rest of her girls to catch up.

She sips her coffee, black but for a touch of sugar, the bitterness smoothing over her tongue amplifying tenfold as she looks up to see Captain Rodriguez heading towards her table. She reigns in her scowl at the smug little smirk that graces the other pilot's face, and what it tells her about where this interaction is headed.

It's not that she thinks Rodriguez's crew didn't deserve the lead position on their last mission, but it still raises her hackles that they were chosen first over her own crew.

Rodriguez sits without asking, setting down her own cup, which looks like it might be more cream than coffee. "You look tired, Savorre."

"Six in the morning. Everyone's tired, Rodriguez." Rory nods, acquiesing the point.

"Mm. So it's somethin' else that's got you sour so early."

Savorre does not outwardly bristle, but it's a close thing. Somehow Rodriguez has never been spun by her charm, never fallen for her acts. It irks her.

Rory cocks her head, a performative display, and Viv's guts churn as she sees herself in the motion. "Bet I know what it is," Rory says.

They've been pacing around each other since stateside training, opponents in a ring waiting to see who will make the first move. Both aware of the tension between them, left unaddressed for the sake of civility. Viv always had a hunch that Rory would be the first to break, but she'd thought it'd be because she was the one winning. (Rory had always thought so, too.)

Rory smiles, knowing she's gotten under Viv's skin already. "You know what I think?" She says, slowly stirring the spoon in her mug.

Savorre holds for a beat, weighing Rory up in her mind. She gestures lazily, faux-boredom lacing her tone, "Indulge me."

Rory's lips quirk minutely at the bid for control. "I think," she says, voice low as if she's confessing a secret, "I think it bothers you that Suzy got to fly lead first."

Savorre's nails tap the side of her mug, belaying the irritation hiding behind her cool expression. "Don't know why you would think that, Rodriguez," she says breezily, chin pushed forward in challenge. "I'm glad we're finally being taken seriously around here."

Rory can see the beast that prowls just under her skin, the one Savorre keeps in check by keeping people at arm's length, distracting them with pretty eyes and smart quips so they don't look too close. But Rory has been little more than a wild creature confined in human skin since she was a girl; she knows a starving animal when she sees one.

"Right. Of course, my mistake," Rory replies, taking a sip of the watery mess hall coffee, the sweetness on her tongue from more than just sugar and cream. "Although, Veal did tell me somethin' interesting the other day..."

Rory plucks the spoon out of her mug, lifting it to her mouth. She watches Savorre watch her, sucking the remnants of coffee off the spoon in an exaggerated motion.

For being the Captain of a plane dubbed The Mouse Hole, Savorre does not enjoy being the prey in their little game of cat and mouse. It's a feeling far too intimate for her. "Spit it out, Rodriguez, or go yap at someone else."

Rory laughs, pleased at how aptly she tries to switch their roles. A cat languidly sharpening their claws on a scratch post. Rory is content to be one; everyone needs an outlet, and she was made to be a scratch post that keeps the cat from tearing up the furniture instead. Makes her feel alive.

"Well, if my yappin' bores you so," she pushes up to leave. Viv's hand shoots out quicker than her eyes can track, wraps around her wrist like a vice. She doesn't say anything, won't bear the humiliation it'd cause her to ask or even demand answers, she just digs her short nails into the flesh of Rory's arm.

Contrary to popular belief, Rory knows when not to push her luck. She sits.

Viv's claws retract, but her hand stays wrapped around her wrist. Rory likes that. She can reward good-ish behavior.

"Rumor has it the next mission's gonna be a long one," Rory turns her wrist still in Viv's hand, letting her palm come to rest against the back of her forearm. "Now, Suzy ain't flyin' that one, and I heard that the lead might be goin' to someone..." She trails off, tracing a feather light finger over Viv's skin.

About damn time, Viv thinks, but doesn't say. She flexes the fingers around Rory's wrist as one of Rory's nails lightly scratch her arm, a delicious rush following the movement.

"Maybe even somethin' about a promotion, but what do I know?" That has Viv freezing in her seat. Would they...?

Like a ripple effect, Rory freezes, too. She had expected a flare of ego from Viv, something she could use to get both of their blood boiling over, not...whatever this is. She feels guilty all of a sudden, cruel, like a childish bully. She knows that Viv believes she doesn't like her, but she does, it's just that it's horribly muddled up with jealousy.

They're both nervous, ill-treated dogs. But Viv hides it, gets people to like her in a way Rory never could. Too full of ambition and vitriol and never good at lying.

They spring apart, as if the places where their skin touched had become a live wire. Viv glances over Rory's shoulder to see Willie and Bianca approaching; Willie with an expression of fondness accompanying a raised brow, and Bianca with what Viv thinks is exasperation on behalf of her pilot.

"C’mon, Rabid, eggs are waiting," Bianca says.

"Sure," Rory says, picking up her mug and avoiding Viv's gaze. "Just catching up. Neumann," she nods to Willie as she leaves.

Willie slides into the seat Rory vacated, stealing Viv's mug to take a swig.

"Bleh," she sticks her tongue out. Viv rolls her eyes and takes her cup back, wrapping her fingers around the base.

"Go get your own coffee then, freeloader."

"In a minute. What was that all about?" Willie asks, jerking her chin over her shoulder.

Viv traces a finger around the rim, brows furrowing slightly. She sighs, raising the mug to her lips, "I don't know," she says, taking a sip.

[dontyouworrydaddy]

hellooo ^_^ can i get a request for a gn or fem (dosent matter to me) non-military!rock climber reader & platonic!141?? like theyre friends with each other, but arent in the same work. the reader is some super talented and well known climber (i was thinking bouldering? top, rope, lead and auto belay are kinda… meh to me), but the members of the 141 never knew until they saw some viral video about the reader. if u want any info on climbing if you dont know much u can make a post or smth replying to this and i’ll send in another message with whatever u need to know!!!! thank you!!!!!

ᙅᥲᥒ ყoᥙ ⳽ᥱᥱ ຕᥱ ᥙρ ᖾᥱɾᥱ?

Task Force 141 x gn! Reader

Hey! I hope you like this! I didn’t really know how to make it as interesting as possible so I hope you still enjoy this. Tried my best out here💘💘😆

\(◡̈ )/♥︎

You had always been among your friends. The Task Force 141 met you in a bar and from that point on they basically adopted you. An unexpected friend group.

While you weren't officially a part of their team, you had forged a close friendship with many of the members. Your skills on the rock wall were legendary, but the nature of your work and the surrounding it had always kept you humble and quiet about your achievements.

It all began on a typical day at the task force's secure facility. Captain John Price had called in everyone for an important briefing. You sat with Captain Price, Ghost, Gaz, Soap. your eyes focused on the mission details. Your presence, however, had become so routine that no one really questioned it.

The briefing ended, and you exchanged nods and pleasantries with your friends as they geared up for their mission. This was your usual role - offering support, sharing stories, and providing a brief reprieve from the harsh realities of their dangerous work.

But little did you know, the tables were about to turn.

As the team settled into the dimly lit briefing room, Soap, always the one glued to his phone, showed a viral video to the others. "You guys have to check this out," he said, his eyes glued to the screen.

The video started, and it showed you, the mystery climber who had become a sensation in the climbing community. Your impressive bouldering skills were on full display, as you effortlessly conquered one challenging route after another. Your movements were a mesmerizing dance of strength, technique, and agility.

You could feel the tension thickening in the room.

Ghost's eyes widened as he watched, then looked over at you. "Hey, isn't that…?"

Before he could finish, Gaz chimed in, "It is! That's our friend, you y/n. That’s you!"

Everyone in the room was captivated by the video. You were like a.. Ghost , moving gracefully on the rock wall. You for sure made Ghost question himself and over his name. No one had suspected that you were a climbing prodigy. The atmosphere in the room shifted from shock to awe as your skills left the boys speechless.

Price couldn't help but smile. "You never fail to amaze us, do you, y/!n?" he said with a chuckle.

The video continued, showing you giving an interview. The interviewer asked about your inspiration, and you shared your story of growing up in a small town, scaling cliffs and mountains as a child. Your eyes lit up as you spoke about the thrill of facing challenges head-on, your voice filled with a passion that resonated deeply with everyone in the room.

As the video came to an end, Ghost spoke up. "You've been hiding this from us, mate! You're a rock star and never told us?!"

Gaz agreed, grinning. "You need to show us some of those moves sometime."

You blushed, a rare sight for your friends who had never seen you flustered. "I didn't think it was a big deal."

Soap shook his head. "It's a huge deal! You're incredible!"

In the days that followed, your friends couldn't stop talking about your incredible climbing skills. They shared stories of their own adventures with you, and it was as if a new layer had been peeled back to reveal a different side of your life.

One evening, after a mission, you took Gaz and Soap to your favorite local climbing spot. With the cool breeze in your hair, you demonstrated some basic techniques and shared your passion for climbing. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you could see their enthusiasm growing.

Gaz, now harnessed to the rock, looked down at you. "You know, this is the best thing that's ever happened to me after joining the task force."

Soap chimed in, hanging from a challenging route. "Yeah, mate, this is our kind of thrill!"

Over time, the climbing outings became a regular part of your lives outside of the high-stakes missions. Your soldier friends now knew a different side of you – the thrill-seeker who found solace in the heights of the natural world.

Gaz and Soap, improved their climbing skills under your expert guidance. They marveled at the rock face, the trust in the ropes, since they’re still not good enough to do it without ropes like you, and the rush of adrenaline when they reached a challenging summit. It was a stark contrast to the intensity of their day jobs.

One afternoon, as you were all scaling a rugged cliffside, Soap looked down at you and grinned. "You know, you've given us a new way to unwind, something we never knew we needed."

Gaz nodded in agreement. "This is like therapy, but with a better view."

The bond between all of you grew stronger with every climb. Each expedition became a break from the darkness and danger of your profession, a reminder that there was more to life than the battlefield.

But as much as you cherished the moments spent with your friends, you were well aware of the realities you all faced. In your world, danger was never far away, and the missions could turn deadly in an instant.

[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

Gal here with that ‘HS!Alastor did murder someone post’.

So in one of my past post I made about everyones family dynamics, I mentioned how Alastor found his mother dead after coming back home after school during his Middle School days, and how his father went missing a few weeks later.

I also made Alastor living alone in an apartment paid for by his grandfather(On his mother’s side). So, here’s the answers of what happened.

So Alastors father was basically an abusive and manipulative asshole. His father was white, and his mother was Creole(from what I learned)

When his father and mother first met, everything started out great. At least that was what his mother thought, his father thought nothing more of there relationship and only thought of it as a ‘Summer fling’. But then his father got his mom pregnant.

And because his father’s parents were conservative, they made Alastor father marry his mother to uphold there reputation.

One hand, Alastors mother always wanted a family, and thought that that the marriage was an act of love, while his father never wanted a kid, and only thought Alastor as a burden.

It didn’t help that they lived in a more conservative community, where it was mostly white people. And though the community was nice, there was still a majority of people who weren’t….. fond of race.

Because of that, Alastor father thought he would bring there reputation down instead of upholding it like his parents wanted. So fast forward they got married and Alastor was born.

Alastor dad did try to connect with him growing up, but since his dad had certain beliefs on how men should act, they always butted heads.

While his dad wanted him to play sports, Alastor rather spend time listing to his great great grandparents(mothers side) old antique radio.

He wanted Alastor to learn how to fix a car, Alastor learned how to bake and cook.

Alastors mom tried to talk to his dad about just letting Alastor do what he liked, but his father always rebutted back against her. What started small arguments eventually turned into an emotionally and physically abusive relationship.

Alastors mom did try to leave, but his father threatened her by saying that since she didn’t have a job, there was no way she could provide for her and Alastor. The only reason he said that was because if they got a divorced, his reputation will fall.

Alastor became really worried for his mom, especially when he noticed that she started getting physically hurt by his father. But his mother always told him that she would be alright, and that the best he could do for her was smile.

Over the years, the relationship between his parents would become so toxic, that his father wanted nothing more to get rid of the women who he believed destroyed his life(Alastor dad is a bitch). Even though non of this was Alastors mom fault and she did nothing wrong.

So one day, while Alastor was at school, his parents got into another argument. This one though, was horrifying. As it would eventually lead to his father…..ending the poor mother’s life.

When Alastor came home that day, he was expecting his mom making her famous stew….but what he saw was his mother who he loved dearly, dead, belaying on the floor, with his father standing over her……

The next few days were a blur to Alastor. The police tried to question if he had any idea about his mother’s death. But his father threatened him to keep his mother shut, and if he didn’t, he would spread rumors about his mother, ruining her reputation even after death. Not to mention that Alastor was still a middle schooler, and at that age they don’t really know what to do, or even if they can trust anyone to tell. So, he didn’t tell the cops anything.

The next few weeks were hell. Not only did his father start abusing him, kids at school talking bad behind his back, getting bullied, but he also had to go to his mother’s funeral. He only ever cried at his mother’s funeral.

It wasn’t until 2 months passed, that he had enough od his father. He couldn’t care less if his father hit him, what only mattered was that he wanted to get rid of the man who took away his mother. He thought it was a good thing he snuck a kitchen knife into his room.

So one day, when his father was yelling and hitting him, calling him useless like his mother. Alastor snapped. He pulled out the knife, and without thinking, stabbed his father.

Of course, Alastor only meant to stab him, as he knew his mother wouldn’t want him to kill and turn out a murderer like his father. But when he snapped back into reality, all Alastor saw was red…..the source being his father’s unmoving body.

Alastor doesn’t remember much after that, all he knows is that he dragged the pathetic accuse of a father and husband body into the woods, and buried it somewhere.

A few days later, Alastor reported his father missing. While no one ever found out what happened to his father, they came to the conclusion that he perhaps abounded Alastor as he couldn’t take care of a child after the passing of his Wife.

The only ones who knew the truth was Alastor, and the deer plush his mother made for him.

His grandfather from his mother side took him in after no leads came from the search for his father. Over the years, Alastor grandfather noticed that he has mental issues and trauma. So he put Alastor in therapy.

The therapist suggested that Alastor may need a change of scenery, so his father bought an apartment in California and sent Alastor to live there. He would have gone with him, but he had to continue working to afford the apartment. Luckily his other daughter lived on the same town, so at least Alastor has an aunt he could got to for help. Not to mention his little cousin Nifty.

So that brings us to now, Alastor living an apartment alone in California. Been living there for 2 years. Now he’s a junior in high school. One year away from being a senior.

He thinks his mother would cry seeing how much he grown.

I feel like I just went on an insane emotional rollercoaster and specifically would like to say his dad deserved it, intentional or not

[jisokai]

me aggressively googling what half of those words mean on the sero rock climbing brain rot bc i love sero and bakugou so much and i wanna agree with you so bad bc you're prolly right abt everything 🙂‍↕️

LMAO the way I've had a sports AU in my head for so long but have been holding back because nobody is going to understand what I'm talking about 😃👍 and climbing jargon is the WORST FR like what do you mean I think Sero is good on crimps but prefers slopers and likes to repel off a clean and dresses his knots so pretty and gives a ton of fucking slack when he's belaying lead and prefers wire gate draws and—

But yes I love them both and their climbing relationship lives in my head rent free. I really should draw more for this AU 😩

[ftafp]

Historically, staffs were favored by war mages for their versatility and ease of use. On top of the obvious advantage of magical firepower over bows, wands, and slings, a staff could serve as a walking stick or balancing pole or while marching, and could be used alongside a shield for defensive formations like the phalanx. Even at distances where fireballs couldn't be used without potentially catastrophic friendly fire, a staff could be easily be fitted with a spearhead or other comparable polearm

That said, a crucial weakness still remained: using a staff as anything other than a melee weapon required extensive training in the arts evocation, making only suitable for elite warmage troops. In addition, gifted mages were few and far between, with most candidates lacking sufficient mana for a prolonged firefight. It was because of this weakness, combined with the growing popularity of cannons, that the first magegonnes were introduced. These simple firearms were often nothing more than a metal barrel affixed to the end of a staff, which could be packed with spark powder, and anything from lead bullets to small stones. While still largely impractical, even a half-trained mage could create a sufficient spark to ignite the powder with very little mana, and the force will still great enough to pierce armor made of bronze or leather

Of course, the difficulty of loading magegonnes with a shield strapped to one's arm meant they were never anything more than a novelty in warfare. However, this was when the second big innovation came into play. with cheaper production of paper came the powder packet, which could more quickly be loaded into a smaller barrel. these packets, inserted into the barrels of rods and wands, could also be pre-loaded and kept in holsters and bandoliers without the shot or powder falling out. Initially a sidearm among soldiers, their popularity quickly spread to naval forces, as they required less space to wield than swords, knives, or belaying pins, and could be fired at range without a risk of igniting one's own vessel.

From there, refinements by gnomish artificers soon quite literally exploded. bored barrels, aerodynamic bullets, ergonomic handle and more. From a simple staff, the humanoid races had at long last created a weapon they could scarcely have imagined: the magelock, a weapon that would change the course of warfare forever.