#or maybe a park ranger!

[anakinsthot]

oooo i would love to prompt you from that duolingo list:

"how did you lose your phone?" OR "please take my jacket."

for (she pretends she likes any other pairing over obikin) i guess...obikin?

How did you lose your phone (like I could write anything other than obikin, let's be real here lol) Please enjoy this silly little meet cute.

(1k)

Obi-Wan had thought he was being subtle, watching the man at the end of the bar from the corner of his eye. The brunet had been playing pool all evening. He’d absolutely devastated everyone who tried to challenge him, pulling trick shots and showing off the whole time. His arms, biceps bulging in a shirt that was at least one size too small, had captivated Obi-Wan immediately. When Obi-Wan had managed to drag his eyes away from the man’s long fingers wrapped around the wooden cue and the ripple of muscles under golden skin, he’d found his face equally entrancing.

“Here, take this and then go talk to him already,” the bartender says with a smile, pushing a shot glass across the countertop to Obi-Wan. ”You’ve been pining all night.”

Obi-Wan flushes. Apparently he wasn’t as subtle as he thought. He’d usually say no but, two and a half drinks in, it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Making up his mind, he takes the shot, wincing as the burn of cinnamon whiskey slides down his throat, and slams the glass back onto the counter.

“Thanks,” he flashes a smile at the bartender, “wish me luck.”

She snorts and turns away, taking an order from a couple that had just wandered in.  

Obi-Wan takes the cocktail glass he’d been sipping and swirls it nervously as he makes his way to the end of the bar. There’s an open stool next to the beautiful pool player, and he slides onto it quietly.

“Hello there.”

The man tilts his head towards Obi-Wan with a curious look on his face. “Hi? If you wanted to play a game you’ll have to come back this weekend, I’m done for the night.”

“No,” Obi-Wan laughs. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be a challenge at all. I just wanted to talk to you.” He flashes his most charming smile.

“See, everyone who says that usually has a few tricks up their sleeve,” the man says, turning to fully face him. “You look like you know how to handle a few balls.”

Obi-Wan chokes on the drink he’d just taken. The stranger watches him struggle with a bemused smile, eyebrows wrinkling. Clearing his throat, Obi-Wan rallies and looks up at him from under his eyelashes. “Well, a different kind of balls, but I’m told I’m pretty good.”

“Oh? What sport do you play?” the younger man asks earnestly. “Please don’t tell me golf, you don’t look that boring.” He pauses for a second to flag the bartender over. “I’m Anakin, by the way.”

Crestfallen that the man actually wants to talk about sports, Obi-Wan orders another drink from the woman as well. “I’m Obi-Wan,” he says after taking a moment to finish the remains of his first cocktail. “I play in a local tennis league.”

The bartender sets their drinks in front of them and sends Obi-Wan a sympathetic smile. The drink, when he tries it, is much stronger than his previous one. She must be able to tell how poorly his attempts at flirting have gone, he thinks.

Anakin scoots closer to the edge of his stool, his knees bumping against Obi-Wan’s. “That’s cool,” he says. “My sister plays tennis too. She’s tried to get me to play but I swear whenever we play she hits me on purpose. She says I’m just not good at it, of course,” Anakin laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Obi-Wan’s spirits lift and he jumps at the chance to turn the conversation around. “Maybe you just need to learn to play with the right partner,” he suggests.

Anakin hums and leans towards Obi-Wan. “Are you offering to teach me?”

Obi-Wan can’t help but notice how impossibly blue Anakin’s eyes are as he bats his eyelashes coyly. He loses his train of thought for a moment, alcohol and desire clouding his mind.

“Darling, I’d love to teach you,” Obi-Wan closes the space between them until they’re just a hairsbreadth apart. “Let’s exchange numbers, you can text me and we can set up a date?”

“Oh, um. No, I can’t.”

Obi-Wan pulls back, smile dropping off his face. “I’m sorry if I’ve over-stepped.” He slides off the stool and puts a little space between them. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

A hand snags on his sleeve as Obi-Wan turns away.

“Sorry, I meant no, we can’t exchange numbers because I lost my phone.” Anakin eyes are wide as he stares at Obi-Wan.

“It’s ok, Anakin, you don’t need to make up an excuse.” Obi-Wan tries to tug himself free but Anakin’s hand curls tighter on his shirt.

“I really did lose it! Can’t you, like, write your number on a napkin or my arm or something?”

Obi-Wan steps back towards to him, hopeful that maybe he hasn’t completely misread the situation. “You might have to let go for me to write it down,” he says wryly.

Anakin blushes, but pulls Obi-Wan a little closer before releasing him. He reaches across the bar and snags a pen from a cup next to the cash register. He hands it to Obi-Wan before offering up his forearm as a blank canvas.

It feels a bit high school-ish to be writing his number on someone’s skin, but it makes Obi-Wan’s stomach jump a little nonetheless. Anakin’s skin is just as warm under his touch as he’d imagined. He writes carefully, making the lines as legible as he can.

“How did you lose your phone?” he asks curiously.

Anakin bites his lip. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Obi-Wan lets go of Anakin’s arm to curl their pinky fingers together. “Pinky promise,” he says solemnly.

“It’s kind of a long story, we should probably sit back down and order some food,” Anakin coaxes Obi-Wan back to his bar stool. When Anakin sits down himself he scoots even closer, one of his knees sliding between Obi-Wan’s. “So it started this morning when I was getting ready to go on a hike. I was trying out a new backpack, which won’t be getting a good review…”

[trebuchet151]

This is jumping the queue bc some really cool people reblogged my last post of Corey and they escaped containment.

Updated sidestep design perpetual WIP

Sidestep days vs retribution. They're slowly reacquiring their self expression. Next book will probably be the full return of the scene/punk look

Bonus Corey sans most of their clothing to show off their tattoos under the cut. CW for healed SH scars

Yes that is Ortega's bedroom yes I half assed it. I drew this background in my car at work when it was like 110 degrees idgaf

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Oh MY FUCKING GOD OF COURSE

[moocowofdoom]

Had a job interview today !!!!!

[theragamuffininitiative]

Life dream goals update: I wanna be a fire lookout so bad. There are only a few problems with this (not counting how few positions are available, the general lack of pay and benefits meaning a lucrative job the rest of the year, and the fact that folks with applicable degrees are higher on the hiring profile) .... I have bad vision and a smoke allergy.

[aiyonstar]

First Meower Rangers post on this account 😋

Here's all the Rangers from MMPR - Zeo

GroveClan - Angel Grove, StoneClan - Stone Canyon, BrightClan - New Tech City

Wildtuft, Breezeclaw, Windleg, Lightfoot, and Hazelstrike, where all chosen by an ancient GroveClan Leader: Shieldstar (Zordon), to protect the Clan from the looming threat of MoonClan.

MoonClan is a faction within the Dark Forest run by Rosestar (Rita Repulsa) and later co-ran by her mate, Zinniastar (Lord Zedd). They want to see GroveClan fall just for fun, it's the first Clan they saw after being let out of their prisons so why not.

Dragonsoul, Rowanleap, Boulderberry, Curlystorm, Kindheart, and Honeysand all joined later as different teammates eventually left to move on with life.

After moving to GroveClan Boulderberry decided to not continue his path as a Medicine Cat and moved to pursue the life of a Warrior, though he does remeber ALL his Med Cat training just in case.

Wildtuft left GroveClan and joined a different Clan along with Hazelstrike and Windleg. Lightfoot soon joined him and the two became mates, having one kit: Heatherkit.

Lightfoot left when she felt that she was wasting her life doing this, she wanted to do other things than have to be depended on every day. She left to find Wildtuft.

Breezeclaw briefly left to join a small group of Fishing Cats before realising his heart belonged in GroveClan and returned, he still ventures out to meet them sometimes. He became leader after Applestar.

Windleg eventually returned to GroveClan to raise her daughter, Bristlekit, but sadly was later killed while protecting Breezestar from a Mountain Lion manifestation of Rosestar (the big bad).

Hazelstrike originally had no plans to return to GroveClan but ultimately came back to raise Bristlepaw, becoming her Adoptive Father.

Kindheart and Dragonsoul are sickingly sweet to be around, they're always happy around each other. Kindheart moved Clans with Dragonsoul when he decided he wanted to venture past GroveClan. In ReefClan they had two litter of one kit each: Lightkit and Wildkit.

Curlystorm left to become a kittypet mostly to learn how to care for her curly coat. When Rowanleap left GroveClan she became a loner with him before they joined BrightClan.

Despite being born in GroveClan her parents took her to a far off Tribe when she was a kit, but after they disappeared suddenly she ran away, ending back up in GroveClan.

[gayjew69]

Since Daniel is the only character that lived— Y’all think he got major survivors guilt after everything that happened???

Like with steve and we could also consider that campers were also murdered and Daniel wasn’t there to save em in the moment

[juniperhillpatient]

Can’t say I find leaving your partner & trying to save some random bitch you just met (who was holding a gun over a clear murder scene ?) after saying “get up” to said partner who has a fucking door on top of him & a bear on said door attacking then saying “get in!” as you drive away at top speed is a #feminist moment but ok lol

[softquietsteadylove]

Would love to read more form the wildfire one? Maybe something funny and soft?

"Thena?"

She jumped, fumbling with the key in her hands. She managed to catch it, at least. Gil did give her this key himself, after all. It was quite a leap of faith, considering how isolated anyone and everyone was out here.

"Everything okay?" Gil asked as he closed his truck door and walked up his driveway to the cabin.

She fidgeted with the key in her hands. She had somewhat been hoping to slip in and out while he was on duty, maybe at the station. She was going to leave him something as a thanks, of course! But she had been hoping to...keep to herself.

"Yeah, everything's fine," she insisted, still somewhat more agitated than he usual demeanour. She gripped her key, "sorry to...drop in."

"No, it's okay," Gil shook his head, smiling slowly, "that's why I gave you the spare."

She had been cleared to return to patrol weeks ago. And as her parting gift, she had left him a little bear carving she had made. It was crude and rough, but in her own words, she had little option for whittling lessons when she was stuck in his fucking bed all day.

In return, he had given her a spare key to the cabin, saying she could come any time she needed a break from the wilderness.

"How was duty?" she asked in hopes of appearing more normal, even moving aside as Gil used his own key on his belt clip to get in.

"Pretty routine," he smiled and spoke over his shoulder, a subconscious invitation for her to follow him in. "Not too many idiots looking to start a fire when it's this wet out."

"Hm," she nodded as she stepped into the both eerily and comfortingly familiar cabin behind him. Despite any and all circumstances, it smelled like home. Well, it smelled like 'a' home, whether hers or not was beside the point.

"Are you hungry?" Gil asked, still fishing for the reason to find her at his doorstep at the end of the workday. "I can make something."

"Uh," she paused, her eyes darting away just for a second, "y-yeah, that would be nice, Gil."

He gave her this look, like she was trying to bullshit her way out of something. He crossed those stupid arms of his and shifted his weight on his feet, "that'd be...nice?"

She rolled her eyes at him, "I can't be fucking nice?"

"You can be nice," he countered easily with a chuckle. If anything, she doubted that was the true part. "But that's not what you're here for."

She looked up at the ceiling, which also felt very familiar to her. Why was this so hard?--why did it feel so embarrassing to say? "I was hoping...to use the shower."

That obviously surprised Gil, and she couldn't even blame him a little bit for it. "The shower?"

She sighed, feeling as if he'd unearthed this horrible thing about her, when really it was very logical! "I guess I got used to it - or something - while I was here. Sometimes it's hard to go back to the lake knowing I could have nice warm water for it again."

"Right," he nodded slowly, visibly thinking through whatever litany of things he had on the brain. She had told him about going to the lake to bathe, and he had of course very chivalrously asked if that was safe for her. Guy was a gentleman even in hypotheticals.

"I mean," she cleared her throat, unsure herself as to why she was still explaining herself. There was a time when she would have walked right in, used his shower as she liked, and gotten the fuck out of there. And she wouldn't have felt the need to tell him shit either. "It won't be every time. Just, uh, it was pretty cold today and-"

"Thena."

God, those eyes were just so brown, and big and sad looking--like a puppy whining to be loved. She rolled her eyes at him, which was basically a physical reflex of hers, now.

"Use it any time you want," he shook his head, as if he couldn't believe she would even feel the need to ask. He uncrossed his arms, "when I said use your key any time, I meant it. I had it made for you and everything."

Fuck. That was...really sweet. Thena looked down at the key in her hands, her gut twisting and flipping and doing all sorts of things. She gulped, "fuck."

He just chuckled.

She tried to look him in the eyes, but her gaze kept sliding around everywhere else. "Thanks, Gil, that's...really nice."

"I did tell you that before you left, right?" he tilted his head, and there was the asshole who liked to tease her about her sweater habits and tell some of the worst jokes she'd ever heard in her life. "Or did I hallucinate that morning we had breakfast and you even let me hug-"

"Okay, okay, dry your eyes, Mister Sentimental. I'm just gonna wash my disgusting hair and be on my way."

"Your hair is beautiful."

"Hm?" she looked back before dropping her bag in the bathroom. She tilted her head; she couldn't have heard what she thought she heard. "Sorry, what-?"

"Spaghetti--do you want spaghetti?" he asked, also halfway into the kitchen, over his shoulder.

She must have heard wrong. She nodded, "uh, yeah, that's--sure."

"Okay."

"Okay."

The two stared one another down for another second before continuing on. Thena set her bag down and unclipped it to fish out her fresh clothes. She tried to replay what she had thought she heard in her head but it was no clearer than the damn inkblot tests in a psych eval. "Whatever."

If he had something to say, he could say it to her face. Even if it was something like that.

[outtaluckawoo]

in my fic i've officially decided to make wyatt the campground host and i just. can't stop thinking abt it. he'd be so eager and enthusiastic!! it's the perfect job for him. he'd wear his park ranger uniform shirt everywhere, unbuttoned or layered over hoodies and under sweaters. his favorite part of the job would be getting kids involved with nature, seeing the wonder in their eyes as they explore the forest and observe the wildlife. at the same time, though, he'd work to protect his pack's territory, keep campers away from the borders. ensure everything sacred is kept safe.

[the-yearning-astronaut]

Send a few good vibes my way if you can spare any. I've put out two applications -- one for a week and a half summer workshop about a new astronomy research method and another for a post baccalaureate research position with NASA. Being accepted into either would be a huge boost on any grad school application and to my CV. But the second would be a full time job out of state. Which means I'd be out of this house.

I need something to change. And soon. Whether it be a full time research position or the CV boost I need to get into grad school next year. Just. Something.

[rosanna-writer]

Maybe this is just a me thing, but I find it SO interesting how rarely ACOTAR modern AU fics feature Feyre hunting.

I get making her a painter or having her work crappy jobs under the table from a young age because poverty to modernize the situation in the cabin in canon. That makes sense to me because nobody is really out here subsistence hunting anymore.

But on the other hand, there's something about the hesitation to put Feyre in camo and orange and give her a shotgun that just makes me go "hmmmmm"

[antlereed]

who would be the funniest person to just drop into this last chapter for fun. for goofs

[20mice]

Years of academy training, wasted.

[limblesstar]

yknow i’m not super interested in the thing i was writing for my oc but i’ll be damned if i don’t do something with the forest universe because. holy shit the concept was delightful

[hoothootmotherf-ckers]

can people please stop filming the entire fucking world around them for public consumption? and especially random fucking strangers who you did not ask???

I work at a park and man the front desk. and I'm photographed and filmed a lot. I'm talking easily 20+ times per day. most of the times, it's parents filming me swearing in their kids as junior rangers. which. they're intending to film their kids. what they get is me and the back of their kids' heads.

there's this recurring problem that like. people forget we're real people? like yeah you're filming your kid, but you're filming me interacting with your kid. I could count the amount of times someone has asked me permission to do this in the past year on one hand. and sometimes that's after they already start filming.

Like, I'm not an actor. I did not agree to this. You could be a dick and make the argument that I'm a public figure, but I'm not. This is not a persona and my uniform is not a costume. I'm a person trying to do my job and help people and teach them about science and history. And you know what makes it harder to do that? The knowledge that anything I say or do could end up shared with thousands of people. The fact that if I fuck up the wording of this kid's junior ranger pledge, or I sneeze, or make some basic mistake, it's not just a funny or embarrassing moment for me and this one family. It could end up on tiktok.

And okay, those are the people intending to film their own kids and not thinking or caring about the collateral. What's worse is the people who film everything. A few times a week some guy walks into the visitor center, phone already horizontal in front of their face, narrating what they're doing and seeing. They come up to the desk and ask me questions, phone in my face. They take wide establishing shots of the visitor center and every visitor in it. None of us agreed to this! None of these people consented to be in your youtube video! We are not the fucking set dressing of whatever travel instagram story you're making!

I don't know where I'm going with this. This is really only the tip of the iceberg. Sometimes people ask us to repeat what we just did - swear in their kid, or explain a detail, or hand them a fucking map - so they can get a second take, and they're already filming so if we say no we look like the asshole. Sometimes we're asked innocuous things like to point out a landmark, and next week there's a photo of us in the 15,000 member Rangers Pointing at Things facebook group (yep, real thing). One time my entire 45 minute evening program was filmed without my permission and I was informed after the fact. This happens all the time, and I'm giving park ranger examples, but this happens to so many people in service work or public positions every single fucking day.

I guess just, next time you go to film in a public space, take a second. Think about who you're about to film, if they agreed to that, what might happen if a video of them went viral. there's a reason I'm not out as trans at work. And then, maybe. don't. or at least fucking ask.