#still have to get the hat and socks. but the hiking boots i will not budge on they will be inaccurate lmao

[teamhawkeye]

slowly piecing together my Laura cosplays in time for summer! 🐺🌕

[morninkim]

the gang's all here!!

now we're just missing team rocket 👀

inspired by kianamai's redesigns!!

design notes and lil musings under the cut!

Ash takes a lot from Pokespe in terms of his proportions (at least how the early chapters look in my head) and some cues from the newer movie designs bc i LOVE those, especially the one from Power of Us. So ya I also wanted to give him a big poofy jacket bc of i remember seeing an interpretation of Red's original sprite as a big jacket as well and i think it suits Ash a lot. The style was kinda early One Piece inspired at first, so there's just a big of Luffy in Ash's design, but I think it ended up more Digimon Adventure in the end lmaoo. The nose bandaid's to just elevate that rookie protagonist feel a lil bit + I spent way too long figuring out a new hat symbol lmaoo. He's also 11 in this world to match Red's age in RBY.

Pikachu I just wanted to draw him like Red's Pikachu in Special and give him the lighter coloured tummy from early artwork.

Misty's the biggest departure obvs but I knew I wanted to give her a crop hoodie and take inspo from Kiana Khansmith's Misty and give her the wetsuit as an undersuit. Then the chunky shoes were carried over from Ash with big scrumpled socks bc I thought it made her look a lil more unkempt. The whole goal was the make her more scrappy looking and focus in on the whole "Tomyboyish Mermaid" thing from the games. Also combined her RBY hair with her GSC do by making it a half-up ponytail that I think is very cute. OH and her shoes are Cerulean Gym branded, bc I imagine in this world there's merch for each Gym that the leader wear, so the wet suit and hoodie would be branded too. The hoodie's just cropped above the logo and the wet suit's logo's covered by clothes. She's about 12, so a lil older than Ash and does not let him forget it.

For Psyduck, I wanted to make him a lil fluffier and ugly-duckling + incorporate the three lil sprout hairs he's got a lil more to suit the style. He also has a neck now, you just can't see it super well here. He's just a fluffy lil duck who hurt a lot. Poor lil guy :((

Brock was pretty straight forward, I kinda wanted to reference his Sygna Suit from Masters with pants and a tank top, but made the pants into cargo pants that can be unzipped into shorts (he's thinks its the coolest thing in the world. He wears hiking boots to go over rougher terrain as a Rock-type Leader and hunt for fossils bc I like that aspect of his game characterization so I carried it over here, and he wears an armband with Pewter Gym branding. His tiny lil facial hairs are all he can grow at the moment bc he's still like 15 as usual, but he thinks it makes him look ~Older, Maturer & More Sophisticated~ so refuses to shave it.

I wanted to incorporate a lil more Geode Dude into Geodude so I changed his colours a bit and added parts where the outer layers of the rock have kinda chipped away in battles to reveal the crystal underneath + added the eyebrows from Alolan Geodude. I imagine it's like, the more outer layer gets chipped away from a Geodude, the closer they get to evolution. I do not at all know what this world's Graveller or Golem would look like but I think I'd canonise the theory of Machoke and Graveller taking aspects of the other when traded and make them kinda like Karrablast and Shelmet in a way.

Broad plot strokes are just these guys would exist in a version of the indigo league w an expanded kanto dex to include all related mons + variants, so stuff like Electivire and Annihilape and Alolan Exeggcutor would exist in there without much fanfare of ~Woahhhh Newly Discovered Pokemon~. Regional variants would be found on the Sevii Islands. Maybe there'd be small type changes too idk. Like pure Rock Geodude that gain Ground on evolution bc Gravel-ler. idk who knows I'm just spitballin. Essentially just a lil more closely following the Game's story, I guess. Less wacky loose adaptation stuff from Indigo League. Not bc I don't like that stuff, just bc it's not what I'd do.

I figure like, there'd be an interlude short arc that takes place in the Sevii Islands just after the Vermillion Gym where Ash would catch a Galarian Farfetch'd and all forms of Paldean Tauros instead of like, 100 Kantonian Tauros, and be introduced to Legendary Pokemon through a quest to track down the Galarian Legendary birds (then find out others can be found back in Kanto). Naturally he'd use the PC system (maybe adapted as some kind of daycare or something, or maybe just a teleporter to Oak's lab like the main anime) and have a couple more than 6 team members to rotate out as needed. Also. Mega Evolution would be a factor bc I think it'd be cool, so Ash gets to Mega Evolve Charizard into Mega Charizard Y.

OH also just for funsies, I'd split the starters across the trio, so Ash gets Charmander, Misty gets Squirtle and Brock gets Bulbasaur.

Basically Ash would end up with more or less the same team from the original series, but with added Annihilape, Sirfetch'd, Paldean Tauros and Mega Charizard Y. I also think I'd add Dragonite from Journeys and make his Gengar the Haunter he befriended that would follow him in secret after helping him beat Sabrina and evolve in the Cinnabar Mansion + officially join his team there.

Squirtle would evolve into Wartortle with Misty and Bulbasaur would stay in the same stage with Brock like Ash's.

I'll come up with and probably draw everyone's main teams at some point later but. ya. that's my piece!

[derwahnsinn]

31 Days Idol Challenge - Day 26: On the Floor

There are actually quite a few photos of Oliver Riedel on the floor (or on the ground, which I have also included here). My top pick is from one of my favourite photo shoots of Rammstein (ok, I will admit I have a lot of favourites, but still): The Rosenrot "fashion" promo shoot by Kasskara Agentur. Oliver's wife dressed up the band for this shoot, and maybe it's just me, but there are so many photos from this session where he looks proud and confident.

As part of this shoot, Mat Hennek and Felix Broede took photos of all the band members lying on the ground, and Oliver's looks so peaceful. I really like this shot of him.

Bonus material: 1) Oliver gets physiotherapy while his dog waits patiently. From the 2019 Europe Stadium Tour, photo by Jens Koch. 2) Oliver relaxing during the recording of Reise, Reise. Photo possibly by Paul Landers. 3) Young Oliver sitting on the floor. Photo by Casper Pfeiffer. 4) Oliver stretching before a show during the LIFAD Tour. Photo by Frédéric Batier. 5) Oliver on the floor most likely in his and Paul's shared dressing room. Unknown photographer, possibly Batier as well. 6) Oliver and Paul's dog Minni in Mexico, screenshot from an official band reel posted during the 2022 North America Stadium Tour. 7) Sad screenshot from the Adieu music video.

-- Tinnike's 31 Days Idol Challenge

Day 1: At the Airport Day 2: Barefoot Day 3: Climbing Day 4: Cycling Day 5: Dancing Day 6: Fav. Boots/Shoes Day 7: Fav. Casual Outfit Day 8: Fav. Hat/Headgear Day 9: Fav. Music Video Outfit Day 10: Fav. Role in Music Video Day 11: Fav. Stage Make-Up Day 12: Fav. Stage Outfit Day 13: Favourite Quote Day 14: Favourite Socks Day 15: Favourite Sunglasses Day 16: Hiking Day 17: Hugging Day 18: In the Bed Day 19: In the Car Day 20: In the City Day 21: In the Forest Day 22: In the Restaurant Day 23: Naked Day 24: On the Beach Day 25: On the Field

-- See also: Richard idol challenge: @kitthefox Schneider idol challenge: @cynoodn Till idol challenge: @singfurmich Paul idol challenge: @anwiel13

[unrepentantcheeseaddict]

The Banshee (Short Story)

(I've had this one mostly finished for a while. Can't remember if I posted it already, so here ya go. TW for gore, anxiety attacks and missing parents.)

The Banshee

Never sail out to the Old Fortress. That’s the number one rule whenever I go stay with my Aunt Robin in England. I’ve always been able to resist the temptation before.

But not now, not after I’ve just been sent to live with her permanently, with the police officer’s words still throbbing through my head, “I don’t think your parents are coming back.”

Not now that I can’t keep my mind from making a beeline back to the last day I saw them.

Not now, when I have to keep my hands and body busy every single second, so I don’t have time to process what’s happened and I can’t have a panic attack.

I have to do something. I can’t just sit around in my warmly lit new bedroom. I’ll fall apart before I ever fall asleep. I growl in frustration, setting my phone down, and start to pack.

Knives, climbing gear, energy bars. A fully stocked first aid kit. A compass, a flashlight, a backup flashlight. Extra clothes in case I get soaking wet.

Chemical-activated hot packs, since you can’t do much with frozen fingers. I debate whether to bring the phone, but decide against it. I don’t need it when I’m away from civilization, which is where I’d rather be half the time.

I yank on my toughest clothes: layered T-shirts, jeans with rain pants over the top, woolly socks and a matching sweater and hat. And a good coat, obviously. It’s before dawn in British winter.

Tiptoeing out into the hall with my backpack slung over one shoulder, I pause to let my eyes adjust to the darkness before heading downstairs. It’s more dim than actually dark, because the sun’s starting to rise and Aunt Robin is staunchly anti-curtains. I turn a corner into the kitchen and very quietly fix myself a big thermos of hot chai. Being British, and also the best cook I know, Aunt Robin is a tea snob. I've been spoiled by the good tea at her house for years now. I scribble a note onto a scrap of paper.

Couldn’t sleep, went sailing. I’ll be back for breakfast, don’t kill me.

She won’t be exactly happy, but she won’t ground me either. She never does. Well, she might if she knew where I’m planning to go. But what Aunt Robin doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I weight the note down to the dining table with one of the little stone statues she collects.

I’ve never noticed this particular one before, actually. It’s a slender, elegant cat, carved out of white rock. Out of habit, I try to identify the type of stone like my dad taught me, and catch myself just in time as my eyes start to sting.

“No.” I snap out loud. “Bad Jay. Don’t think about it.”

I shake thoughts of my parents out of my head, tamping them down until there’s nothing left on the surface to make me scream. Then I head to the front door and tug on my boots, stepping outside. The cold sea wind hits me like a solid thing and I gasp a little, my breath steaming in the frigid air.

Aunt Robin’s house is a good few miles from any town, right up on some cliffs that drop down to a scrappy little pebble beach. I hike along the edge of those cliffs, admiring the sunrise on my landward side and the dark, heaving Atlantic Ocean on the other. Finally, I get to what I like to call the Staircase of Doom.

Honestly, the term “staircase” is stretching it a bit. It’s more like a steeply sloped trail with the occasional stairstep, carved right out of the cliffs and zigzagging down. There are rickety driftwood railings near the top, but as you get further down, those disappear. There’s nothing to help you keep your balance, nothing to stop you from stepping off the edge into the gloom below and breaking your neck on the rocks.

In short, it’s perfect.

I head down, and I’m about halfway when I see the cat following me. It looks a lot like Aunt Robin’s cat statue. Lean, huge for a housecat, pure white and just about dripping with arrogance. It saunters around my moving feet and plops down directly in front of me. The path is narrow enough here that I can’t just walk around it. I stop, hands on hips.

“Excuse me.”

The cat cocks its head at me. Blinks a pair of startlingly blue eyes. Then settles down and starts licking its butt. A boy cat, I notice.

“You, sir, are a jerk.” I inform him. “Move or I’ll move you.”

He doesn’t even look up. Typical cat. I sigh and scoop him up, wincing as his claws dig into my shoulders.

“Chill, dude, it’s just for a minute.”

I walk until the trail widens, then put the cat down. He gives me a glare, then walks off ahead of me, tail at a jaunty angle as if to say “Just because I let you hold me, doesn’t mean I like you.”

I break into a run as the trail peters out onto the pebbled beach. The cat follows. The sun is mostly up now, and I can see the little dock where my sailboat, the Guinevere, is tied up. She’s bobbing on her moorings as the tide comes in. The rocks shift and scrape under my feet as I head over. I toss my backpack into the boat, then jump in myself. I’m about to untie her when the cat jumps into the boat.

I raise an eyebrow. “I think you’re going to regret this decision in a minute once you start getting wet.”

He heads belowdecks and curls up on the little padded bench that I store things under. I shrug. “Okay, Your Majesty. But I’m not turning around.”

I cast off the ropes and start the motor. I could probably make it to Old Fortress Island on wind power alone, but I don’t want to deal with it while I’m sleepy and distracted. I keep a steady hand on the tiller and steer us through the waves. Cold sea spray gets in my face. I stick my tongue out and catch some, immediately regretting it as the briny, fishy taste fills my mouth. I really should know better than to do that by now. But it’s me, so of course I don’t.

Soon enough, I see the island, looming up out of the mist like some fossilized giant beast. The Old Fortress isn’t visible yet, but it will be soon. I give a little involuntary shiver. Nobody who isn’t from around here knows about the place, it isn’t even on most maps. Some people say it’s from the Dark Ages, some say it’s earlier. A lot of people say it’s cursed. All we know for sure is that anyone who goes there doesn’t come back quite the same. In my opinion, that’s probably because they were drunk at the time. I have nothing to worry about. I’m sane, I’m sober, and I know how to handle myself.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as I toss my anchor into the water and hop out. The bitter cold seeps into my shoes as I slosh through the weedy shallows and tie the boat’s ropes to a nearby boulder. I climb back aboard, grab my backpack, and turn to the cat. “You coming?”

In one smooth motion, he jumps into my arms. I snort.

“Don’t want to get your feet wet, huh?”

I walk along the beach searching for a usable path up the cliffs. Eventually, I settle for one that looks the least like it’s going to kill me, stuff the protesting cat into my backpack and start climbing. When I reach the top, I’m greeted by a breathtaking view. I pause for a moment, taking in the pale blue-gray sky and a few soft, peachy clouds, the last remnants of the earlier sunrise. I can see for miles now that I’m higher and the fog is starting to burn off.

There’s the house on the cliffs. The lights are on now, which means Aunt Robin is up and ought to have found my note. I’d better hurry if I want to see much of this place before breakfast. Mentally composing a good excuse for later, I wrestle the cat out of my backpack and plunk him down on the scrubby wet grass and heather. He gives me a look of such betrayal that I can’t help but giggle.

“What, did you think I was going to cart you around the whole time?”

I unwrap one of the energy bars I packed and eat as I walk, heading into a small stand of wind-gnarled trees. It’s eerily quiet up here except for the distant crash of waves. No calls of seabirds, no little skittery things rustling in the undergrowth. Just my own footsteps as I shuffle through a pile of rotten leaves and the cat’s occasional dissatisfied murp.

And that’s when I finally see it.

The Old Fortress is even more of a ruin that I expected. The stones that form the enormous outer wall are falling out of place as their mortar rots away, revealing the dirt and rubble at the walls’ center. The ones that are still standing are a few feet above my head at their highest point. They’re also covered in fungus, bird poop, and moss. I walk around the perimeter, looking for a way in. Soon enough, I find a spot where I can clamber over the lowest bit of wall. The cat follows me. Hold it. Are his eyes glowing?

“You magic or something?” I joke.

I lean in closer, and he looks up at me, all innocent like he has no idea what I’m talking about. Yeah, his eyes are definitely glowing, and not in the normal cat-in-the-dark way. More like there’s shifting, flickering fire inside them, only it’s bright sapphire blue. Well, it’s not like he’s actually magic. That’s impossible.

I shrug. “If you’re bioluminescent, that’s your problem not mine, bud.”

I turn away and keep walking. Inside the walls, things are in even worse shape. In most places, there’s barely a single stone on top of another. I can clearly see that things were well-laid-out here, though. The walls, what’s left of them, are ruler-straight, and the cobblestones are still mostly there, even though there’s weeds climbing up between them. I pick up a piece of worn red pottery. It looks like part of a roof tile or something.

“I wonder if this place is Roman.” I mutter.

I’ve binge-watched enough Time Team with Aunt Robin to know a fair bit about British archaeology and history. The Old Fortress seems to check out with what I’ve learned about Romano-British architecture.

“What you see now is Roman.”

I scream and jump. There’s a boy standing next to me. Like, right next to me. How did he get so close without me noticing? I glare at him.

“Okay, creep, what the Hell are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Same as you. Getting away from my regular life.”

He’s got a Scottish accent, not unusual considering how close we are to the border. He’s also the picture of handsome insolence, with dark messy hair and a smirk that could be either playful or taunting, depending on the angle. The cat, like the traitor he is, rubs up against the boy’s legs, purring like a chainsaw.

“I didn’t see another boat.”

“I came from a different direction.” He says.

“Kay. Well, feel free to go back that direction and quit stalking me.”

“I’m hurt.” The boy says overdramatically. “So hurt. I was not stalking you, merely trying to make your acquaintance!”

I snort. I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for goofy people, always have been. The boy smiles. Not a smirk, just a regular smile this time.

“See, I’m not that bad. My name’s Brendan, by the way.”

“Okay, fine.” I relent. “I’m Jay. How do you know it’s Roman?”

“Dad’s an archaeologist. I picked up a lot from him. But this site’s a lot older than just Roman. There’s activity here going back to prehistoric times. It’s always been an important place.”

“You should give tours.” I joke.

He shakes his head. “It’s not safe for most people to come here.” Brendan pauses. “Come to think of it, why are you here? And why are you using Robin’s boat?”

“You know my Aunt?” I blurt out. “Don’t tell her I was here. Please? She’ll ground me.”

“Well that answers that question.” Brendan says with a chuckle. “She mentioned she had family in America. I didn’t know you were staying with her currently, though.”

“Well, I am.” I say flatly.

I really, really don’t want him asking more questions about why I’m here right now. I don’t want to be fighting that knot in my throat for the rest of the day. So in time-honored awkward-person fashion, I try to change the subject. Brendan beats me to it. “That cat, is he yours?”

“Nah. I think he’s a stray. He’s been following me since I came down to the boat.”

We chat a bit longer as we walk. I learn that Brendan has two older sisters who are away at college right now, and his Mom is a historian working at a big museum in Glasgow, where they live most of the time. They’re down here visiting some friend of hers who just had a baby. He’s never been to America and is pretty curious. I’m right in the thick of explaining how Halloween works, because boy is this kid missing out, when the cat starts hissing and arching his back.

In unison, we look at the direction he’s facing. There’s nothing there but an old stone circle. Brendan sighs. “This is where you should leave.”

“No.”

He laughs nervously. “Thought you’d say that.”

“Are you gonna explain to me why the cat is freaking out? Or how you know my Aunt Robin? Or why this stone circle is supposedly dangerous?”

Brendan gives the circle a wary look. The morning shadows seem to darken around the stones.

“In a minute, yes. For now, do you have anything we can use to make fire?”

I nod, already digging around in my backpack for the little lighter I carry. He frowns. “That’s it?”

“Sorry, I left my flamethrower at home.” I snap.

Fear of the unknown is making me tense and jittery. It always does. My anxiety is stupid like that. If I’m ever in a situation where I don’t have all the info, my ridiculous brain starts filling in the blanks with everything that could conceivably go wrong. It’s happening now.

I dig my fingernails into my palms, trying to breathe deeply, trying to tell myself that I’m going to be okay. It doesn’t work. I start shaking, and my fear must show on my face. What’s worse is that Brendan doesn’t try to reassure me. He looks just as terrified as I feel. That means I might have good reason to be scared. My brain latches onto this thought with vicious claws and runs with it.

I draw my largest pocketknife and flip it open, pointing it at the stones. “Brendan. I need to know what’s happening, or I’m going to have a panic attack. Now, please.”

He blinks in shock, then nods. “Okay. The long version is too long for right now, so I’m sorry. Magic is real, monsters come to this island sometimes, and I think one is trying to break through and eat us. Having a panic attack right now is perfectly natural. Though it would be more helpful if you could avoid it.”

I glare at him. “Now you tell me?!”

“I thought you already knew!”

We’re interrupted by a long, low wail. It’s coming from a ragged gray shape that’s just appeared in the middle of the stone circle. It turns, and I can see it’s an emaciated, deathly-pale woman. She’s dressed in old-fashioned clothes faded away to threadbare scraps. Her stringy white hair and the skin of her hands is flecked with what looks like dried blood. The strangest part, though, is her face. Her wrinkled skin is stretched tight over her skull, making her look like an Egyptian mummy with a better nose. Her mouth is wide open revealing toothless gums, and it seems to be stuck that way. And the creepiest thing? She’s crying. The front of her dress is nearly soaked with tears, and her hollow chest convulses with the raspy, wailing sobs.

Brendan curses. “Banshee. Got any earplugs?”

“Earbuds, two pairs.” I toss him my spare pair. “Here. Hope you don’t mind my earwax.”

“It’s preferable to being dead, at least.” He says, putting them in.

I follow suit and scoop up the hissing cat. He flails and scratches until I put him back down.

“Ungrateful little bastard.” I mutter.

The banshee hears me and starts stumbling in our direction. I shudder just watching her. The way she moves reminds me of a zombie from some cheesy old horror movie. Only, I usually think those zombies are ridiculous. There’s nothing funny about the figure shambling towards us now.

I can’t hear her properly through the earbuds, but judging by the little scraps I can hear, that’s a good thing. Her crying is rising in pitch to something like an ambulance siren. Brendan draws a knife of his own. It’s a full-blown medieval dagger, the big kind I’m pretty sure is called a dirk.

“Are we fighting it?!” I holler.

“No choice!” Brendan yells back.

“Great.” I grumble.

And then we don’t have time to talk more, because she’s right there. Weirdly, she takes a lunge at the cat first. He jumps up on his hind legs and seems to grow, white fur glowing, until he’s the size of a panther. One claw swipe and her crying turns to a painfully high shriek as she’s thrown to one side, landing in the heather near my feet. The banshee picks herself up faster than I can get away and digs ragged nails into my arm. I yell in pain and yank away, but that withered hand is way stronger than it looks. She grabs my neck with the other one. I stab her.

By some miracle, my knife actually hits, sinking into one of her eyes. A mix of blood and weird gray goo spurts out. She screams again, and I’m pretty sure one of my eardrums just burst, but her grip loosens enough that I can pull away and stab her again. I miss this time, but she’s already hurt.

The banshee stumbles, then stumbles again, backwards into Brendan. He grabs her hair and drags his knife across her throat. Finally, it’s over. We’re both covered in blood and other, less pleasant stuff, and my arm feels like it’s on fire, but we’re alive.

The cat, back to his normal size now, walks over. He’s got a little blood dripping from a scratch on one ear, stark against his white fur. After a minute, he yacks up a big, gross hairball onto the dead banshee.

“You and me both.” I say as a wave of nausea comes over me.

Brendan pulls his earbuds out. I do the same.

“This is why you should have left.” He says softly.

“I’m fine.” I snap.

“No, you’re not. You’re shaking, you’re white as a sheet, and your eyes look like they’ll pop out any minute.”

He comes over and looks at my arm. “Take your coat off, we need to clean this. Cat, you too.”

Surprisingly, the cat walks right over to him.  Suddenly, the full implications of everything that’s just happened hit me. I start shaking harder, heart pounding so hard it hurts, and the nausea hits me full force as I curl up, trying to wipe what I’ve just done from my memory.

Brendan pulls me into a hug. Normally I’d punch a stranger if they hugged me without permission, but right now the contact is exactly what I need to ground me in reality. I lean on his shoulder, trying to get myself under control.

“First kill is usually the hardest.” Brendan says. “I’m really sorry that happened how it did. But we do need to tell your Aunt Robin. She’s the one in charge of protecting this area from monsters, I just work for her. A banshee’s the most powerful thing that’s shown up here in years.”

I nod. “Yeah. Being grounded is better than being dead, I guess.”

“You guess?” He teases. “You need to work out your priorities, Jay.”

I swat at him. I can hardly believe I’ve just met this boy today. It feels like we’ve known each other for much longer. I guess fighting monsters together is a good bonding experience.

I take my coat off and roll up my shirt sleeve, biting my lip to keep quiet as Brendan cleans and bandages the jagged scratches. Then we pack up and head back down to the beach, get in the boat, and set off for the mainland. Aunt Robin has some serious explaining to do. Also, I’m starving. I can almost smell the full English Breakfast.

[jaysons-alt]

It's funny what being in the Scouts did to me. I got lucky, ended up in a good troop, and had a great time, but it's affected me in small but noticeable ways.

Most of all has been preparation/packing for things. My ADHD ass forgets things constantly, but I almost always have a few things on my person or in my car or in my vicinity that I brought cause I glanced over the itinerary and knew from experience I should probably have.

For example, I'm going to be out of town at a farm tomorrow & the next day. I need my toothbrush, two pairs of jeans, three shirts, three sets of underwear, four sets of socks, a knife, a hat, and my hiking boots. On me would be my phones, a charger, my nalgene(scout thing) and my license.

Optional bring alongs would be a rope/paracord, my 800lbs magnet, my laptop, and maybe some kind of snack. I should check the weather, maybe I'll need a jacket or poncho. Grandpa's brand of earplugs are itchy, so bring a few packs of my own.

Past me, before scouts, or me, without scouts, would have definitely overpacked, underpacked, and outright forgotten things, and I know that for a fact.

Even on smaller trips, like going to a friend's for DND, I make a mental note to grab things I wouldn't normally. For most people, this is common sense, to some degree, but to me, Scouts taught me what I can survive a weekend, a week, and a month with and without, and what things I can bring to make it easier.

And it also colors my daily interactions. I learned how to interact with adults, how to respect someone's authority and still get my way (I've had my fair share of power hungry senior patrol leaders), how to teach people things, and how to lead others from alongside, instead of from above.

And I don't always realize I'm doing it. I did it by accident when I joined the theatre company at my high school. I wasn't planning to overshadow anyone, or create my own subgroup of technicians, or do the set head's job for him (honestly though why him?). I found that I was doing it subconsciously, and new people were brought to me first, and people were looking for work and to coordinate people. It was nice to step back from it toward the end of production, honestly.

All of this is to say I'm not sure who I would be without the Scouts, and I owe a massive thank you to Mr. Payne for helping me through it and working with me.

TLDR scouts got me and I haven't been the same since

[australiablog]

12/7

Today is another long driving day, so we all got up at 5:30. I packed last night so it only took a little bit for me to be ready. I can tell we are going south because it’s getting colder. I've had my jacket on for most of the morning. Nothing much happened, we saw some emus and a kangaroo. We did stop at a massive lake, it was enormous! We all went down to have a look and we had to get over train tracks to get to it. It was a very big salt lake so there was salt all over the sandy beach, it was very cool to see. On our way back there was a train, it was over 1km long. I still get so surprised by how long the trains are here. At 13:30 we stopped at a botanical garden, G asked if I could get her some vegan soup if I was going to the cafe. Last time she was there they had vegan pumpkin soup. Now they only had cauliflower with bacon which was definitely not vegan, while I was at the counter I ordered a scone. It was always my intention to get some food along the way since I only brought snacks. Sam is leaving today and I don’t think one person minds him leaving early. He was sitting on the other side of the row in the bus from me and he was being super disgusting. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him but he had a very gross bag in which he kept spitting. Ick! When we all had lunch at the cafe G drove him to the place he was staying. Pete had called during the drive to book him a bus to Adelaide tomorrow and he had a hotel for the night. I still don’t know what’s wrong with him but I tried very hard not to pay too much attention to him on the ride. We saw so many emu’s on the side of the road today, first you see none and then you can’t get rid of them. We were supposed to drive over the Oodnadatta track, it’s a very long unsealed road but because it rained a lot last week the road was closed. So we had to drive a very long way around it, hence the drive being so long. By the time we were nearly at the end destination of today we were in euro country, which is a sort of smaller kangaroo. We also saw loads of them just sitting next to the road. Today really was a day of spotting animals. We arrived earlier as expected, normally we were going to a talk about the aboriginals here tomorrow but since we were so early we did it today. There was a massive campfire that wr all stood around when John explained the way they live here. Well used to live, they haven’t done the old way of living since the lost generation. This means that in the 30s it was very racist and white oriole basically kidnapped aboriginal children because they were “savage”. He had a sort of incense that was going on the fire and it smelled so good! He explained all about how they used to hunt and live off the land. It was very interesting, I really enjoyed it. At the end he burned a different kind of plant and the smoke of it was supposed to protect you on your travels. The way you were supposed to do was hold your hat in the smoke and then put it on your head, but since I don’t have one I used my hands. Since we are a group we all stood around talking a bit to him and he said they had stargazing in a bit and most of us were really interested in doing this. So we went to the place he described and stood around the new campfire while G cooked dinner at the parking next to it. I was wearing my water shoes because it’s more comfortable on the bus but I was so happy I had put my hiking boots in my backpack and not my big bag, so they were easy reachable. I did regret my ankle socks. I swapped shoes on the parking lot before I went to check out the fire, there were loads of people so everyone was cramped around it, it’s really, really cold here. I stood downwind so I had a lot of smoke but I was so cold I’d rather handle the teary eyes and smelly clothes as stand further and be even more cold!! We are at a really dark spot here without light pollution so you could see the stars so brightly. I know I keep saying this but the stars are so beautiful here, and so many. It’s absolutely incredible.

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 392, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, blood, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage)

WORDS: 1133

Quilted puffer vest, in DARK EMERALD GREEN, size M

Cute winter hat, scarf, gloves set, in GREEN SNOWFLAKE PATTERN

 Warm thermal underwear, in GREEN AND BLUE POLKA DOTTED PATTERN, size M

 Cute Hiking Boots for Women, in BLACK COLOR, size 6 ½

 Wool Socks in Cute Patterns, in GREEN STRIPES, size S/M

 Moisturizing ChapStick, in VANILLA BEAN, size 3 pack

 I Love SF Sunglasses, in RED HEART

 Winter Sweater, in DARK GREEN ARGILE and BRIGHT TURUIOSE BLUE and PALE EMERALD GREEN and SOFT BLACK and DEEP ROYAL BLUE, size M

 Fleece Lined Demin Jeans in SOFT BLACK, size S/M, QUANTITY 4

 SPF Sunscreen for Sports, in 120 SPF

 I nibbled at my lip as I browsed the Amazon wish list that Peter had made for me, titled HONEYMOON FOR MY SWEETHEART. He had carefully selected stylish and comfy articles of clothing for me to buy, choosing different hues of greens with bits of blues sprinkled in.

 I scrolled to the bottom of the list and promptly turned bright pink at the sexy lingerie set that he had added in a soft sweet green color. I also added bright poppy turquoise colored lace to my shopping basket and then went to check out.

 I checked out, turning to where Peter was doing his rehabilitating workouts with the babies as weights. Even now, he still couldn’t stand for long periods of time and was currently about to graduate from using a custom made cane tuned to his height and weight, but if there was one word to describe my husband’s work ethics, that word was determined.

 He hadn’t said it out loud, but I could tell that he was itching to get back into shape so that he could protect his family from those intending to do harm onto us. While I was appreciative of his role as the family protector, I understood that he had been gravely injured and that he now needed to fully heal before he could honestly do anything else.

 Peter had told me that Type O Negative was going to go on tour in November and that he wanted the entire family- myself, Baby Tommy, Daisy, Elizabeth, Elle, Katie and Jing- to accompany him. He had told me that the band manager was looking into hotels for the family to stay in while the band went on a six week tour of the east coast, to which my response had been that I would need to make arrangements for the girls to be homeschooled and for the house to be looked after in our absence.

 The Ratajczyk family patriarch had told me that the band would be hitting up to five cities a week, and that by the end of the tour, Type O Negative would’ve visited thirty three cities. He had given me a rundown of where our stops would be. I was so excited- Salem, Boston, Philadelphia, Charleston, Baltimore, Savannah, Myrtle Beach…

 “We are going to have so much fun,” I giggled the night before while we were curled up around each other. “Do you want me to call up Adam and ask him if the twins can come with?”

 Peter’s face glowed with happiness as he tugged me to lay on top of his burly chest as he peppered my face with kisses.

 “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS

 “I love you, my handsome silver daddy,” I giggled, cuddling into him as a late night infestation of bedbugs swarmed the bed. “Hihi kids.”

 “Mamamamamama…” babbled Baby Tommy as he awkwardly crawled up to us before falling into my pillow and snuggling into the sleep aid. “Mamamamamama…”

 “To what do we owe this late night visit to?” Peter rumbled as he opened his arms for the kids to come in and tuck themselves into his side.

 “Little girl wouldn’t stop whining,” Elizabeth explained, tugging the adorable two year old girl and Elle into her side and rolling onto her back.

 “Poor little girl,” Peter crooned, allowing her to crawl up onto his as well. “Is your baby anxiety make it hard for you to sleep?”

 “Papa Pete,” mewled little girl as she settled down for sleep. “Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete.”

 “Little girl’s baby PTSD will pass soon enough,” I told the family as I began to gently stroke her chubby leg.

 “Oh!” Katie gasped, sitting up suddenly. “Before I forget…” She tore off out of the bedroom, leaving me and Peter to exchange glances. She returned about five minutes later, holding a neatly wrapped parcel, which she handed to her baby sister. “Happy birthday little girl, from Lizz Lizz and me!”

 The already spoiled birthday girl happily tore into her present, unwrapping a little cloth dollie. Much like Baby Tommy’s mini me, it was carefully hand crafted in light brown cotton fabric for the skin, with dark red yarn for hair and a petite white diaper and bright pink t-shirt.

 “Mee mee!” squealed little girl as she hugged the plush toy tight to her chest. “Mee mee!”

 “Liddle gurl?” Baby Tommy asked, holding up his own well-loved plush toy. “Baabee Tom Tom? Liddle gurl? Baabee Tom Tom?”

 I giggled as I watched the babies comparing their favorite toys before they settled down for bed, cooing as they held each other’s hands.

 “Sweet babies,” I cooed, settling myself down for the night. “Goodnight my love.”

 “Goodnight sweetheart,” he chuckled in a deep rumble.

 “See you in the morning.” I settled my ear against his chest and drifted off to sleep listening to my favorite sound.

 THUD THUMP

 THUD THUMP

 THUD THUMP

  TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

 If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

 PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@starchild0985​

[adhdarcheologist]

What to Wear

There is no one way to dress as an archeologist, but there are ways not too. This may sound a bit intense but really I’ve seen far to many novice diggers come to the site with no idea what they should be wearing and it shows. Now please don’t let this intimidate you! Really the main thing to keep in mind is to keep what you’re doing and where you’re doing it in mind. Look at the environment, look at the weather forecast and dress accordingly. It doesn’t need to be stylish and  you definitely dont have to dress like an extra on Indiana Jones ( and yes that does happen more than you’d think).  Genuinely one of my supervisors once described us as looking “homeless and hungover”, there’s no prize for fashion. So please to spare your future supervisors some pain, here’s a list of what you might want to wear, keeping in mind that it will all inevitably end up covered in dirt.

Fundamental

> hat > closed toe shoes > shirt that covers your shoulders > sturdy pants (jeans, cargo, hiking etc.) > comfy crew socks > sunscreen > rain jacket

PLEASE, please for the love of the universe WEAR SUNSCREEN. If you’re practically vampiric like me, reapply every hour, even if its cloudy the sun is still there. Even if you tan like nothing else I can guarantee that you are still highly likely to burn. On that note also please wear a hat, protect your head and gift yourself the blessing of shade. I personally favour a good baseball hat but a Tilly is always a classic. Closed toed shoes are an obvious must, same with sturdy pants you don’t mind ruining, rain jacket for when it rains (of course). Finally the socks, learn from others. Get socks that go well above the heel of your shoe because otherwise it will absolutely dig into you much faster than you might think.

Basic

> hiking boots > hat > long sleeve & short sleeve shirt > sturdy pants > comfy crew socks (x2) > sunscreen > rain jacket > neck cover > sun glasses / safety glasses

Ok so here’s the thing about the Basic and Medium list, allot of it is interchangeable. Different sites will require different things so really use your judgement as to what you want or need. Some sites (usually urban ones or if machinery is involved) require steel toe shoes. However allot of them don’t and honestly hiking boots are more comfortable so wear a good sturdy pair you like as often as you can. Lastly a note about neck covers. Not everyone uses them but genuinely I think you should. Even just a bandana or something to cover the back of your neck to protect it because it’s often the place you forget about. Not to mention that bandanas are super versatile and can be used to cover your face (dust, dirt etc), wrap around an injury (in a pinch) and as a head covering (if you don’t have a hat for some reason).

Medium 

> steel toe boots > spare Hiking boots > hat > long sleeve & short sleeve shirt > vest of many pockets > water resistant hiking pants > hiking socks (x2) > rain jacket > rain pants > high vis/safety gear

Here I’ve just added some extra things to consider but like I said above it depends on the site. Hiking socks are usually sturdier and offer more cushioning that regular socks. Water resistant pants dry faster and wash more easily. Rain pants because sometimes water resistant isn’t enough (or you’re wearing jeans). A vest of many pockets is ideal because you can easily throw it on and multiply your pocket capacity (literally look at fishing vests). High vis gear (safety clothes) isn’t usually necessary but check to make sure. If it is it’s usually provided but not always. And finally steel toe boots if they’re required.

A Note: you’ll notice that I haven’t added shorts to this list, that’s not to say that archeologists don’t wear them but generally the advice is to wear pants. This is for a few reasons. The first is that it’s easier to burn in shorts and you don’t want that. The second is you’re less likely to get irritants on your bare skin (plants, bugs, dirt, rocks etc.). The third is that it protects your knees more from the dirt and debris you’ll be working on (easier to keep yourself clean and your knees safe). This is also the logic behind wearing shirts with sleeves that cover your shoulders, it’s not banned (although on some sites it is) but it’s encouraged to protect yourself as much as possible.

—

Overall the main thing to keep in mind is that archeologists are like onions… they have layers. Wear/ keep layers in your bag and you should be good. And of course as always, you’ll learn what you need as you dig and develop your own dig style over time. And of course we’re all a sucker for pockets. 

[tinymilkshakecheesecake]

Morning Hike - Cale Makar

A/N: literally just a hiking imagine with Cale

Word Count: 2.4k

You first wake up to an alarm, then to Cale poking you awake, ready to start the day.  Cale spent the night at your place to make the early morning start easier and the closeness to the trail, not like that mattered much in Denver traffic anyways.  Cale’s season ended about a week ago.  It was a long season and the team felt like they did their best.  You had a few days off before starting your next big project and Cale headed back to Calgary to visit his family and prepare for the next season.  Today you guys were going to take a hike.  Cale had some hiking experience in Calgary and often spent time outside back home but had been in Denver for a few seasons and was never bothered to check out the hiking scene in the greater Denver area.  You were known to spend lots of time outside and were big into rock climbing and backpacking, so this was something both of you had interest in.  The hike you had picked was about seven miles long, would probably take about half the day, and should leave you both tired by the end of it.  

As you roll over, Cale jumps out of bed, while stripping the covers off of you.  You reach out to grab them, but he’s too quick.

“Here, I’ll use the bathroom first then get started on breakfast so you can get ready,” he mumbles as he slips away to the bathroom, the sun barely up.

You sigh as you sit up before moving to your closet.  You slip out of your pajamas before tossing them in the laundry basket and slide into your clothes for the day.  You hear Cale leave the bathroom before making your way over.

When you finish in the bathroom, you begin to finish packing your backpack.  You fill up enough water bottles for both of you along with an extra before packing them into your favorite backpack.  Cale looks over as he finishes making his eggs.  

“Hey, I know you have an extra backpack.  Let me carry stuff,” Cale calls out, “I want to help!”

“You just finished a season and are supposed to be recovering.  Plus, I do this all the time with more weight on trips and projects,” you reply as you move to search for your smaller daypack for him.

“Thank you!” He replies with a grin.  

You find the pack and place two of the water bottles in it along with his extra shoes and socks.  Since his hiking boots aren’t very broken in, you’re making him take sneakers in case the boots cause issues.

You finish packing as he places the plates on the island.  You slide in next to him and start to eat.  You finish eating, absorbing the quiet morning.  Your street wasn’t particularly noisy, but was often filled with noise from mid morning to about dark and times like this made you appreciate the quiet mornings.  You both finish at approximately the same time and you grab his plate before he can protest.  You quickly rinse the plates off while he finishes his drink, speaking to each other non verbally.  He hands you his glass and you place that in the dishwasher while he places some personal stuff into his bag.  You throw some drinks and snacks in the cooler and make sure to grab the good sunscreen.  Everything is by the door as you take turns using the bathroom, the last time you’ll probably use a real bathroom until after the hike.  You guys grab everything and walk to your car.  As you move to the driver's door, Cale speaks up wanting to make sure you’re good, “Are you sure you want to drive? I can drive if you’d prefer.”

You catch his eye with a smirk, “Get in Cale.  I’ll drive.  I’ve also been here a million times before.  If it makes you feel better, you can control the radio.”

He smirks back at you before climbing in.  You back out of the space and hit the road.  He turns on the radio and changes it to a classical music station, knowing the peaceful morning warranted it.  As you continue to drive, you hear his breath even out as he drifts off to sleep.

You pull into the parking lot as Cale wakes up.  A blush tints his already red cheeks as he stretches from being crouched in the passenger seat for the forty minute drive.  He rests his hand on your thigh as you turn off the engine and murmurs a quiet thank you.  You guys climb out and grab the sunscreen and apply it to yourselves.  When you’re done, you look over at Cale and see a few blobs on his face.

“C'mere,” you whisper, not wanting to break the morning silence as you reach your hand out.  You rub the missed sunscreen into his face as he folds his lips, holding back a grin.  When you move your hand down, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him for a quick kiss, taking advantage of the mostly empty parking lot.  You pull away to put on your shoes, not wanting to drive in the boots if you could help it.  You guys then grab your packs and lock up, making sure nothing important was left behind.

Cale sets the pace so he can take his time to enjoy the scenery and relax.  It's also a way for you to admire his behind as he hikes along but you won’t mention that to him.  You’ve hiked this route many times and know it is scenic but will get more demanding as you go along and don’t want to rush him.  You figure Cale can handle it and will take as many breaks as needed too.

You guys hike along quickly, pausing at times to admire the view.  You make your way through a few trail splits, then pause to take a break.  You guys take a seat on the side of the trail and lean into him, taking in alone time with him as you guys munch on some of the food you brought.

“This isn’t so bad,” he says.

“Just wait,” you reply looking up at him with a smirk, “It starts out nice but gets harder as it goes along.”

“Oh boy,” he laughs, “I can’t wait.  Thanks for this by the way,” He murmurs, turning serious, pulling you in closer, “I’m going to miss this when I go home.”

“I will too.  We’ll both be busy though and you’ve really been missing your family.” You think back to all the times you’ve caught him missing his family after phone calls and texts with them when he thought you weren’t paying attention throughout the season.  “Plus, I might be able to see you if everything goes well with the project.  How are you doing?  Are you good to continue going?” you ask, wanting to change the subject.

“Wait a sec.  I want to do something,” he replies as he reaches into his pocket to grab his phone, “Come ‘ere.”

He pulls you in closer and you reach up to kiss his jaw, making him grin.  You guys take a few pictures before he flips the camera around to snap a few of the scenery.  He sends one of you guys to the group chat to tell the guys he’s busy as he skims through the messages, most about hanging out for those still in town.  You’ve met most of the team and their partners in passing, but haven’t really hung out with them.  It’s been challenging to make your schedules line up to go to any of their gatherings and Cale doesn’t want to push you when you’re busy.

You both strip a layer and pack everything up, before continuing on with the hike.  Your pace slows down as you reach a steep section.  You trek along behind Cale, listening to the sounds of the wildlife, your footsteps, and an occasional huff from Cale.  You stop again for water and a quick separation, not spending much time on this break.  You continue, becoming more mindful of your footing as the trail gets rougher with rocks and roots.  You notice Cale slowing down more and you stop again for a quick break at a flat section.  You’re really close to the summit, but don’t want to push him, especially with him having just finished the season and the last stretch is rather short but challenging.

You guys continue again, Cale still leading the way as he treks up the angled rock, picking the best path.  You follow close behind on his heels.  The moment Cale gets to the top and looks up he lets out a small gasp and pauses, taking in the view from the mountain before shifting so you have space.  The view stretches for miles, making this one of your favorite day hikes in the area.  

You guys made good time, and it was barely mid morning.  You could go back the way you came or you could take another trail that would loop up with the other trail.  The loop would be longer, and you didn’t know how Cale was doing, especially in his new hiking boots.  He was still wandering around the summit admiring the view and snapping a few photos as you think to yourself that you guys would definitely need to do more hikes when the time allows.

You find an area to sit down then take off your pack as you sit down.  Cale joins you and you both dig into the food you brought up.  At one point, you glance at him, noting the relaxed smile he has as he gnaws away on a protein bar glaring off into the distance.  Once Cale turns his attention away from the food, you begin to speak, “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing pretty good.  The view here is amazing,” he replies.

“How does your body feel?” you ask, looking him in the eye.

“I’m doing fine.  Let’s do the loop.  I know you love the scenery it has.  How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good.  I’ve enjoyed the hike so far and your company,” you say as you lean into his personal space to give him a kiss.  He wraps his arms around you pulling you into a hug and you guys stay there, taking in each other's scents through the sunscreen and enjoying the peacefulness around you.  You remain hugging until a yelling child ends the moment.  You guys pull away and quickly pack your things before finding the new trail as the parents approach.  

You descend the steep trail, encountering more people as the day goes on.  You continue along switchbacks before the terrain evens out.  You take a few quick breaks, a few times for water and another quick separation.  You reach the integrated forested area, admiring the vegetation and slow down a bit, stopping for a few more pictures.  It becomes more populated and Cale pauses, pulling out a hat as a disguise.  It only works for a few minutes before a boy in an Avs shirt recognizes him.  Cale’s flush cheeks turn more red when he realizes he was recognized.  You stay back and keep your distance, not wanting to draw attention to yourself and your relationship.  He signs the shirt and talks to the kid for a few minutes before they continue on, the parents giving you a friendly nod as they pass.  Cale waits for you to catch up and holds out his hand.  You grab it as he pulls you into a quick hug before murmuring thank you as he pulls away.  He continues to hold your hand along the flat trail, following his lead for interactions as you pass more people.  

When the sounds of traffic become noticeable, you both pause, catching each other’s eye, mentally preparing for a quick exit if needed.  You pull out your keys and undo the extra straps on your backpack, prepared to just toss it in the backseat if the parking lot is sheer chaos or if people recognize Cale.  The parking lot is in a normal level of chaos which allows you enough time to change your shoes, cool down the car, and get a cold drink from the cooler before you leave the lot.

On the way back, you make a detour for a late lunch.  You end up on the patio and watch the shenanigans around you while you freely talk about whatever.  You both finish up and head home, the radio softly in the background as you’re exhausted from the hike.  You take turns showering then curl up together for a nap with the TV on softly in the background as you drift off.  

Both of you startle awake to something ringing before Cale becomes oriented enough to realize it's his phone.  He pulls away from you once he glances at the screen and heads into the bedroom to answer it.  You sit up, focusing on the TV.  When he returns, his cheeks are more red and he has a sheepish look on his face.

He sits down next to you before he begins speaking, “So that was EJ.  He’s making me go to a dinner tonight with everyone who is still in town.  You don’t have to go, but they all want to hang out with you.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, “I just don’t want to stay out too late coz it's been a long day.”

“We won’t.  You can spend the night at my place if you want since it's closer to the restaurant,” he replies as he leans in, wrapping his arms around you, eyes still focused on your face.

You reach out your hands, one hand in his hair and the other on his back.  “Sure,” you reply, “What time do we need to leave?”

He shifts, hiding his blushing face in your belly before answering, “So we need to leave in like twenty minutes because I need to stop at home...”

“C’m on,” you chuckle as you tease the hair on the nape of his neck, “Let me up so I can pack.”

He groans, shifting so you can move before he sits up.  You let out a sigh as you begin to pack a bag, wondering what’s in store for the evening.

[ferociouslycreativemystery]

Okay, actual advice for dealing with snow:

There are two factors to dealing with snow and the cold: you and your clothing.

I'm sure there's more to the body's thermal regulation than this, but if you live in a cold climate your body will develop more brown fat which it uses to keep you warm, and a warmer climate willl give you less of it. The amount of brown fat you have changes seasonally with long-term changes in temperature, so the same temperature can feel very different in spring as compared to autumn, independent of other weather factors.

Living somewhere it can get as low as -20C and spending summers where it can get upwards of 40C has really illustrated how different the same temperature can feel depending on what you're aclimatised to. 20C is an oven in spring but feels like stepping into a fridge by high summer. You can't really control your amount of brown fat though, so let's focus on what you can control: your clothing.

As the saying goes: det finns inget dåligt väder, bara dåliga kläder—there's no bad weather, only bad clothing. Dressing for cold and snowy weather follows a simple principle: trap all the air, and avoid getting wet. Air is a great heat insulator, while water will suck the warmth out of you.

How do you trap air? Layers! All the layers! Not packed too tightly so all the air is squeezed out of them, but also not too loose so they're impractically bulky and moving will cause the air to pump in and out like an accordion.

Also, layers allow you to regulate your temperature when out and about. If you move between inside and outside a lot, or are very active, you're able to remove a layer if you get hot to avoid getting sweaty (don't get wet!). When you cool down you can always put them back on again.

Here's how to do layers:

Inner layer: wool is your best friend. It is brilliant at trapping air and still stays warm when moist or wet, which makes it ideal for keeping close to the skin—especially when being active. It can be scratchy though, so merino wool is your best option. Thermal underwear is what I'm talking about here, and it's good to have if you're gonna be out and about for long periods of time. Though I sometimes use it under everyday wear in the winter as well (then only on my legs).

Middle layers are mostly just for being there and filling up space, and are generally for the upper body (legs are an inner-outer layer only type deal). A fleece or hoodie is great for this, and of course an ordinary shirt to wear underneath that. In a sporting setting thermal underwear paired with a fleece will usually suffice, since the activity will provide much heat itself and you want to avoid getting wet by sweating.

Outer layer! Your underlayers have trapped the air nicely, so the job of your outer layer is to keep it there while keeping water (such as snow) out, and will usually have some bulk of its own for trapping even more air. A jacket, thermal trousers (idk if that's the name in English), gloves and a hat are ideal if you're gonna spend a lot of time outside. The quality of each of these can be judged by the same criteria: do they trap air, do they keep it in (are they wind proof?), and do they repel water? Sometimes you'll see fur/fluff around the edges of hoods and gloves—this is intended to break the wind and/or seal gaps between different articles of clothing. Jeans and similar single-layer plant-fibre trousers won't keep you very warm on their own, so wearing thermal underwear underneath them is a recommendation.

Shoes are where you really want to be sure to keep warm and dry. Cold feet will make you miserable. If you'll be walking through deeper snow you want the shoes to reach up over your ankles as well. Always a good idea to wear proper wool socks to keep warm, no matter what type of shoe you're wearing (just make sure the shoe fits both your foot and the sock). Thicker socks also give your feet extra support in the shoe, so I wear them even in summer with my hiking boots if I go on longer walks in bulky terrain.

How strictly each guideline needs to be followed is of course dependent on what you'll get up to and the temperature. If you won't be very sporty or rolling about in the snow you don't have to worry too much about getting wet, but rather focus on just keeping as much air in as possible; if it's not gonna be very far below zero, you won't need as many layers cause less activity will keep you warmer, and so on.

Other than that just keep active, go inside if it gets too cold, eat well, drink warm drinks and stay cozy!

its 2°C, im So Cold, this polar wave truly made me realise how Not Prepared i am for less than 6°c, love the cold but i feel so weak

i booked a holiday for later this winter to the andes, im going to diE, please send advice on how to deal with snow bc i cant even deal with this

[dramatic-audio]

[ID: photos of me, cosplaying as Duck Newton from TAZ Amnesty. I’m a chubby white person with short wavy hair, dyed dark teal. I’m wearing green slacks that are a little too short on me, showing the top of my green socks over my brown hiking boots. I’m also wearing a short-sleeved brown button-down shirt. I’m wearing a US Forest Service patch and a Pine Guard patch, one on each sleeve. I have a wooden name tag that reads “Newton” and I’m wearing a wide-brimmed brown hat. I’m standing in a snowy winter forest in front of a creek. In all the pictures I’m standing alone, looking away from the camera, with my hands in my pants pockets. Some pictures I’m looking tired, bored,  or overwhelmed, and some I’m looking interested or awed. End ID] 

In honor of The Weekend that Would Have Been Wondercon, here is my Duck Newton cosplay! I gave up on making Beacon when the con was cancelled, but I might go out and take some more pictures once I find the time to finish the prop. I’m still pretty happy with how the costume turned out, though! 

Forgive some of the weird angles in the pictures-- social distancing meant I had to get creative with what I could do with my iPhone tripod on my own, and I am nowhere near a photographer! 

[pbandjesse]

I had a really great time being out at camp today. But it was a lot longer of a day than I realized. I was there from 9 until 4! But while it was damp and cold I still really had an excellent time.

I slept okay last night. I woke up really cold a few times. Lost my blankets. But I woke up with my alarm at 730 and said goodmorning to James who was on the couch. They had put gas in the car an would head out for a bike ride once I headed out.

I got washed and dressed. Wore my same outfit, with added layer of socks. I would also have my jacket with me but I wouldn't wear it for most of the day. I also wore a hat. It was for sure chillier, and it had rained so everything was wet. But that was okay. My new boots kept my feet dry! I was very pleased.

I had a good drive out to camp. I had brought a thai tea with me but I didn't like the new creamer I got and so I wouldn't drink it. And I ended up spilling it on my backpack. Ugh.

It was a slightly stressful start. I was the first one there. Heard all the drama about someone who may or may not show up. I went to set up my program. I would drive up there and Im glad I did because there is no way I would have walked up here and back in time to pick up my group.

And they were such a nice group. I am always a little awkward with teens, but this was fun. My first group was very enthusiastic but also ready to move onfrom each thing quickly. I had them for 2 hours too. We did team building first and then ground elements.

But I messed up the schedule somehow. Teambuilding was great. We had lots of laughs. They were not good at whale watcher, but we played some games and it was just a really nice time.

But I missed up the schuelde. They had given us an extra fifteen minutes between the first and second program and I didn't realize and so we finished like a full half hour before we were supposed too. So I was like. Crap. But they didn't know so I took them up to the barn to pet the horses and feed them a biscuit. They were so funny around the horses and wanted to feed them doritos. I didn't know if that was allowed (asked Chloe later and she said they are garbage disposals) so I told them no. And to waste more time I took them on a hike to the lodge around the back of camp.

Honestly it was a nice walk. I was still stressed about being done so early but it was fine. We got to the lodge and the one other group joined us a few minutes later. I was able to show the caterer where to put the lunches. It was then just a bit of a wait for the last group to get there, but it was all good.

The schedule was just a little weird today. We had to much time for everything. They finished lunch in 15 minutes even though they had an hour and 15 minutes. Just like every other block. So Elizabeth changed up the schedule a little, and Nick would come with me to add some low ropes programs to take up more time. I appreciated it and it ended up making the day a little easier.

I was tired though. But we walked our group up and had a great time. The second group was my favorite. They were the funniest. They weren't particularly good, but they were trying so hard and it was just nice to see. And we had exactly enough time. They really wanted to try stuff so unlike the first group, we used all the time and even skipped a few things because they were enjoying other stuff. It was fun.

The last group was very good at things too. And they were just sweet kids. And at the end when Nick was doing the climbing wall with them I cleaned up all the materials so we wouldn't have to come back up. It had dried up a lot but it was getting cooler as the sun started to move down the sky.

In Elizabeth's schedule change they added a fire and smores for them. Which was so cute. So I walked them over to use the bathroom before getting them to the council ring and then it was time to go home for me! They were apparently going to be there until like 7? Thats wild but I hope they had a good night.

I said goodbye to Elizabeth, stopped at the office to say goodbye and happy thanksgiving to Heather. And then I headed home.

I was glad I had some snacks. I was very hungry. But it was a good drive. The squeegee boys on the corner told me I was so pretty. And were sad that my Mcdonalds bag was from breakfast so I couldn't give them a fry.

I got back here and brought in some packages for our neighbors. Got inside and hugged on James and sweetP. I got changed pretty quick because I felt gross from the damp and the dirt. I put on comfy clothes and go on the couch to hang out with James and enjoy the heater.

I mostly played animal crossing and watched videos. I had leftover pasta for dinner. It was great. And while I wished I did some more stuff tonight I don't really feel bad. I will do things tomorrow. I worked hard today.

I am clean and lotioned and wearing my fluffiest sweater now. I am ready to sleep. I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of each other!!

[unrepentantcheeseaddict]

Have a short story :)

I'm not sure yet whether I want to expand this into a full book or leave it as is. Lmk if it's your jam!

TW for a bit of gore and a panic attack.

The Banshee

Never sail out to the Old Fortress. That’s the number one rule whenever I go stay with my Aunt Robin in England. I’ve always been able to resist the temptation before.

But not now, not after I’ve just been sent to live with her permanently, with the police officer’s words still throbbing through my head, “I don’t think your parents are coming back.”

Not now that I can’t keep my mind from making a beeline back to the last day I saw them.

Not now, when I have to keep my hands and body busy every single second, so I don’t have time to process what’s happened and I can’t have an anxiety attack.

I have to do something. I can’t just sit around in my warmly lit new bedroom. I’ll fall apart before I ever fall asleep. I growl in frustration, setting my phone down, and start to pack.

Knives, climbing gear, energy bars. A fully stocked first aid kit. A compass, a flashlight, a backup flashlight. Extra clothes in case I get soaking wet. Chemical-activated hot packs, since you can’t do much with frozen fingers. I debate whether to bring the phone, but decide against it. I don’t need it when I’m away from civilization, which is where I’d rather be half the time.

I yank on my toughest clothes: layered T-shirts, jeans with rain pants over the top, woolly socks and a matching sweater and hat. And a good coat, obviously. It’s before dawn in British winter.

Tiptoeing out into the hall with my backpack slung over one shoulder, I pause to let my eyes adjust to the darkness before heading downstairs. It’s more dim than actually dark, because the sun’s starting to rise and Aunt Robin is staunchly anti-curtains. I turn a corner into the kitchen and very quietly fix myself a big thermos of hot chai. Being British, and also the best cook I know, Aunt Robin is a tea snob. I've been spoiled by the good tea at her house for years now. I scribble a note onto a scrap of paper.

Couldn’t sleep, went sailing. I’ll be back for breakfast, don’t kill me.

She won’t be exactly happy, but she won’t ground me either. She never does. Well, she might if she knew where I’m planning to go. But what Aunt Robin doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I weight the note down to the dining table with one of the little stone statues she collects.

I’ve never noticed this particular one before, actually. It’s a slender, elegant cat, carved out of white rock. Out of habit, I try to identify the type of stone like my dad taught me, and catch myself just in time as my eyes start to sting.

“No.” I snap out loud. “Bad Jay. Don’t think about it.”

I shake thoughts of my parents out of my head, tamping them down until there’s nothing left on the surface to make me scream. Then I head to the front door and tug on my boots, stepping outside. The cold sea wind hits me like a solid thing and I gasp a little, my breath steaming in the frigid air.

Aunt Robin’s house is a good few miles from any town, right up on some cliffs that drop down to a scrappy little pebble beach. I hike along the edge of those cliffs, admiring the sunrise on my landward side and the dark, heaving Atlantic Ocean on the other. Finally, I get to what I like to call the Staircase of Doom.

Honestly, the term “staircase” is stretching it a bit. It’s more like a steeply sloped trail with the occasional stairstep, carved right out of the cliffs and zigzagging down. There are rickety driftwood railings near the top, but as you get further down, those disappear. There’s nothing to help you keep your balance, nothing to stop you from stepping off the edge into the gloom below and breaking your neck on the rocks.

In short, it’s perfect.

I head down, and I’m about halfway when I see the cat following me. It looks a lot like Aunt Robin’s cat statue. Lean, huge for a housecat, pure white and just about dripping with arrogance. It saunters around my moving feet and plops down directly in front of me. The path is narrow enough here that I can’t just walk around it. I stop, hands on hips.

“Excuse me.”

The cat cocks its head at me. Blinks a pair of startlingly blue eyes. Then settles down and starts licking its butt. A boy cat, I notice.

“You, sir, are a jerk.” I inform him. “Move or I’ll move you.”

He doesn’t even look up. Typical cat. I sigh and scoop him up, wincing as his claws dig into my shoulders.

“Chill, bud, it’s just for a minute.”

I walk until the trail widens, then put the cat down. He gives me a glare, then walks off ahead of me, tail at a jaunty angle as if to say “Just because I let you hold me, doesn’t mean I like you.”

I break into a run as the trail peters out onto the pebbled beach. The cat follows. The sun is mostly up now, and I can see the little dock where my sailboat, the Guinevere, is tied up. She’s bobbing on her moorings as the tide comes in. The rocks shift and scrape under my feet as I head over. I toss my backpack into the boat, then jump in myself. I’m about to untie her when the cat jumps into the boat.

I raise an eyebrow. “I think you’re going to regret this decision in a minute once you start getting wet.”

He heads belowdecks and curls up on the little padded bench that I store things under. I shrug. “Okay, Your Majesty. But I’m not turning around.”

I cast off the ropes and start the motor. I could probably make it to Old Fortress Island on wind power alone, but I don’t want to deal with it while I’m sleepy and distracted. I keep a steady hand on the tiller and steer us through the waves. Cold sea spray gets in my face. I stick my tongue out and catch some, immediately regretting it as the briny, fishy taste fills my mouth. I really should know better than to do that by now. But it’s me, so of course I don’t.

Soon enough, I see the island, looming up out of the mist like some fossilized giant beast. The Old Fortress isn’t visible yet, but it will be soon. I give a little involuntary shiver. Nobody who isn’t from around here knows about the place, it isn’t even on most maps. Some people say it’s from the Dark Ages, some say it’s earlier. A lot of people say it’s cursed. All we know for sure is that anyone who goes there doesn’t come back quite the same. In my opinion, that’s probably because they were high or drunk at the time. I have nothing to worry about. I’m sane, I’m sober, and I know how to handle myself.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as I toss my anchor into the water and hop out. The bitter cold seeps into my shoes as I slosh through the weedy shallows and tie the boat’s ropes to a nearby boulder. I climb back aboard, grab my backpack, and turn to the cat. “You coming?”

In one smooth motion, he jumps into my arms. I snort.

“Don’t want to get your feet wet, huh?”

I walk along the beach searching for a usable path up the cliffs. Eventually, I settle for one that looks the least like it’s going to kill me, stuff the protesting cat into my backpack and start climbing. When I reach the top, I’m greeted by a breathtaking view. I pause for a moment, taking in the pale blue-gray sky and a few soft, peachy clouds, the last remnants of the earlier sunrise. I can see for miles now that I’m higher and the fog is starting to burn off.

There’s the house on the cliffs. The lights are on now, which means Aunt Robin is up and ought to have found my note. I’d better hurry if I want to see much of this place before breakfast. Mentally composing a good excuse for later, I wrestle the cat out of my backpack and plunk him down on the scrubby wet grass and heather. He gives me a look of such betrayal that I can’t help but giggle.

“What, did you think I was gonna cart you around the whole time?”

I unwrap one of the energy bars I packed and eat as I walk, heading into a small stand of wind-gnarled trees. It’s eerily quiet up here except for the distant crash of waves. No calls of seabirds, no little skittery things rustling in the undergrowth. Just my own footsteps as I shuffle through a pile of rotten leaves and the cat’s occasional dissatisfied murp.

And that’s when I finally see it.

The Old Fortress is even more of a ruin that I expected. The stones that form the enormous outer wall are falling out of place as their mortar rots away, revealing the dirt and rubble at the walls’ center. The ones that are still standing are a few feet above my head at their highest point. They’re also covered in fungus, bird poop, and moss. I walk around the perimeter, looking for a way in. Soon enough, I find a spot where I can clamber over the lowest bit of wall. The cat follows me. Hold it. Are his eyes . . . glowing?

“Are you magic or something?” I joke.

I lean in closer, and he looks up at me, all innocent like he has no idea what I’m talking about. Yeah, his eyes are definitely glowing, and not in the normal cat-in-the-dark way. More like there’s shifting, flickering fire inside them, only it’s bright sapphire blue. Well, it’s not like he’s actually magic. That’s impossible.

I shrug. “If you’re bioluminescent, that’s your problem not mine, bud.”

I turn away and keep walking. Inside the walls, things are in even worse shape. In most places, there’s barely a single stone on top of another. I can clearly see that things were well-laid-out here, though. The walls, what’s left of them, are ruler-straight, and the cobblestones are still mostly there, even though there’s weeds climbing up between them. I pick up a piece of worn red pottery. It looks like part of a roof tile or something.

“I wonder if this place is Roman.” I mutter.

I’ve binge-watched enough Time Team with Aunt Robin to know a fair bit about British archaeology and history. The Old Fortress seems to check out with what I’ve learned about Romano-British architecture.

“What you see now is Roman.”

I scream and jump. There’s a boy standing next to me. Like, right next to me. How did he get so close without me noticing? I glare at him.

“Okay, creep, what the Hell are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Same as you. Getting away from my regular life.”

He’s got a bit of a Scottish accent, not unusual considering how close we are to the border. He’s also the picture of handsome insolence, with dark messy hair and a smirk that could be either playful or taunting, depending on the angle. The cat, like the traitor he is, rubs up against the boy’s legs, purring like a chainsaw.

“I didn’t see another boat.”

“I came from a different direction.” He says.

“Kay. Well, feel free to go back that direction and quit stalking me.”

“I’m hurt.” The boy says overdramatically. “So hurt. I was not stalking you, merely trying to make your acquaintance!”

I snort. I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for goofy people, always have been. The boy smiles. Not a smirk, just a regular smile this time.

“See, I’m not that bad. My name’s Brendan, by the way.”

“Okay, fine.” I relent. “I’m Jay. How do you know it’s Roman?”

“Dad’s an archaeologist. I picked up a lot from him. But this site’s a lot older than just Roman. There’s activity here going back to prehistoric times. It’s always been an important place.”

“You should give tours.” I joke.

He shakes his head. “It’s not safe for most people to come here.” Brendan pauses. “Come to think of it, why are you here? And why are you using Robin’s boat?”

“You know my Aunt?” I blurt out. “Don’t tell her I was here. Please? She’ll ground me.”

“Well that answers that question.” Brendan says with a chuckle. “She mentioned she had family in America. I didn’t know you were staying with her currently, though.”

“Well, I am.” I say flatly.

I really, really don’t want him asking more questions about why I’m here right now. I don’t want to be fighting that knot in my throat for the rest of the day. So in time-honored awkward-person fashion, I try to change the subject. Brendan beats me to it. “That cat, is he yours?”

“Nah. I think he’s a stray. He’s been following me since I came down to the boat.”

We chat a bit longer as we walk. I learn that Brendan has two older sisters who are away at college right now, and his Mom is a curator working at a big museum in Glasgow, where they live most of the time. He’s never been to America and is pretty curious. I’m right in the thick of explaining how Halloween works, because boy is this kid missing out, when the cat starts hissing and arching his back.

In unison, we look at the direction he’s facing. There’s nothing there but an old stone circle. Brendan sighs. “This is where you should leave.”

“No.”

He laughs nervously. “Thought you’d say that.”

“Are you gonna explain to me why the cat is freaking out? Or how you know my Aunt Robin? Or why this stone circle is supposedly dangerous?”

Brendan gives the circle a wary look. The morning shadows seem to be darker around the stones.

“In a minute, yes. For now, do you have anything we can use to make fire?”

I nod, already digging around in my backpack for the little lighter I carry. He frowns. “That’s it?”

“Sorry, I left my flamethrower at home.” I snap.

Fear of the unknown is making me tense and jittery. It always does. My anxiety disorder is stupid like that. If I’m ever in a situation where I don’t have all the info, my ridiculous brain starts filling in the blanks with everything that could conceivably go wrong. It’s happening now.

I dig my fingernails into my palms, trying to breathe deeply, trying to tell myself that I’m going to be okay. It doesn’t work. I start shaking, and my fear must show on my face. What’s worse is that Brendan doesn’t try to reassure me. He looks just as terrified as I feel. That means I might have good reason to be scared. My brain latches onto this thought with vicious claws and runs with it.

I draw my largest pocketknife and flip it open, pointing it at the stones. “Brendan. I need to know what’s happening, or I’m going to have a panic attack. Now, please.”

He blinks in shock, then nods. “Okay. The long version is too long for right now, so I’m sorry. Magic is real, monsters come to this island sometimes, and I think one is trying to break through and eat us. Having a panic attack right now is perfectly natural, although it would be more helpful if you could avoid it.”

I glare at him. “Now you tell me?!”

“I thought you already knew!”

We’re interrupted by a long, low wail. It’s coming from a ragged gray shape that’s just appeared in the middle of the stone circle. It turns, and I can see it’s an emaciated, deathly-pale woman. She’s dressed in old-fashioned clothes faded away to threadbare scraps. Her stringy white hair and the skin of her hands is flecked with what looks like dried blood. The freakiest part, though, is her face. Her wrinkled skin is stretched tight over her skull, making her look like an Egyptian mummy with a better nose. Her mouth is wide open revealing toothless gums, and it seems to be stuck that way. And the creepiest thing? She’s crying. The front of her dress is nearly soaked with tears, and her hollow chest convulses with the raspy, wailing sobs.

Brendan curses. “Banshee. Got any earplugs?”

“Earbuds, two pairs.” I toss him my spare pair. “Here. Hope you don’t mind my earwax.”

“It’s preferable to being dead, at least.” He says, putting them in.

I follow suit and scoop up the hissing cat. He flails and scratches until I put him back down.

“Ungrateful little bastard.” I mutter.

The banshee hears me and starts stumbling in our direction. I shudder just watching her. The way she moves reminds me of a zombie from some cheesy old horror movie. Only, I usually think those zombies are ridiculous. There’s nothing funny about the figure shambling towards us now.

I can’t hear her properly through the earbuds, but judging by the little scraps I can hear, that’s a good thing. Her crying is rising in pitch to something like an ambulance siren. Brendan draws a knife of his own. It’s a full-blown medieval dagger, the big kind I’m pretty sure is called a dirk.

“Are we fighting it?!” I holler.

“No choice!” Brendan yells back.

“Great.” I grumble.

And then we don’t have time to talk more, because she’s right there. Weirdly, she takes a lunge at the cat first. He jumps up on his hind legs and seems to grow, white fur glowing, until he’s the size of a panther. One claw swipe and her crying turns to a painfully high shriek as she’s thrown to one side, landing in the heather near my feet. The banshee picks herself up faster than I can get away and digs ragged nails into my arm. I yell in pain and yank away, but that withered hand is way stronger than it looks. She grabs my neck with the other one. I stab her.

By some miracle, my knife actually hits, sinking into one of her eyes. A mix of blood and weird gray goo spurts out. She screams again, and I’m pretty sure one of my eardrums just burst, but her grip loosens enough that I can pull away and stab her again. I miss this time, but she’s already hurt.

The banshee stumbles, then stumbles again, backwards into Brendan. He grabs her hair and drags his knife across her throat. Finally it’s over. We’re both covered in blood and other, less pleasant stuff, and my arm feels like it’s on fire, but we’re alive.

The cat, back to his normal size now, walks over. He’s got a little blood dripping from a scratch on one ear, stark against his white fur. After a minute, he yacks up a big, gross hairball onto the dead banshee.

“You and me both.” I say as a wave of nausea hits me.

Brendan pulls his earbuds out. I do the same.

“This is why you should have left.” He says softly.

“I’m fine.” I snap.

“No, you’re not. You’re shaking, you’re white as a sheet, and your eyes look like they’ll pop out any minute.”

He comes over and looks at my arm. “Take your coat off, we need to clean this. Cat, you too.”

Surprisingly, the cat walks right over to him. Suddenly, the full implications of everything that’s just happened hit me. I start shaking harder, heart pounding so hard it hurts, and the nausea comes back at full force as I curl up, trying to wipe what I’ve just done from my memory.

Brendan pulls me into a hug. Normally I’d punch a stranger if they hugged me without permission, but right now the contact is exactly what I need to ground me in reality. I lean on his shoulder, trying to get myself under control.

“First kill is usually the hardest.” Brendan says. “I’m really sorry that happened how it did. But we do need to tell your Aunt Robin. She’s the one in charge of protecting this area from monsters, I just work for her. A banshee’s the most powerful thing that’s shown up here in years.”

I nod. “Yeah. Being grounded is better than being dead, I guess.”

“You guess?” He teases. “You need to work out your priorities, Jay.”

I swat at him. I can hardly believe I’ve just met this boy today. It feels like we’ve known each other for much longer. I guess fighting monsters together is a good bonding experience.

I take my coat off and roll up my shirt sleeve, biting my lip to keep quiet as Brendan cleans and bandages the jagged scratches. Then we pack up and head back down to the beach, get in the boat, and set off for the mainland. Aunt Robin has some serious explaining to do. Also, I’m starving. I can almost smell the full English Breakfast.

[heli0s-writes]

winter dreams

Summary: Six months after a perfect summertime kiss, you see him again in time for the new year. Music: Death Cab for Cutie - I Dreamt We Spoke Again

Pairing: Reader/Bucky

A/N: 2.1k words. Pining & Soft Bucky. Holiday fluff.  TW: references to cancer

A follow up to summer skin but it’s not necessary to read it first. This was written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​​‘s Merry Kismet Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for hosting! The prompt is “You owe me a kiss.”

It’s cold.

December reaches your childhood home in disappointing periods of drizzling rain hitting windowpanes, fogging the insides gray with the house’s heat. Brief winter winds ice the city, never quite enough to flurry like how it did in New York.

Yet somehow, it feels colder here.

You bundle up all over when it sinks into your bones. Blankets and two pairs of wool socks, knitted hats and gloves indoors, still rattling, falling lovesick and not participating in festivities.

Your sisters chide the melancholy, ask you to cheer up, tell you it’s the most wonderful time of the year incoming. Tinsel and allspice, brown sugar candles and the crisp snap of pine. A real tree propped up by the fireplace, topped by a burning red star.

You miss him.

The ornament glows his sigil and, you miss him.

Miss his eyes. His hands. Miss his damn shadow.

Thanksgiving had tasted like wet sand. The turkey and cranberries a mush of pulp. Basting and seasoning, rosemary and garlic, rubbing all manners of things down with butter… and in the end, no matter how you tried, the last six months crumbled like ash in your mouth.

Your father’s illness and subsequent recovery bloomed relief but it was still too soon. There was one more round of radiation and then, it would be over. The cloak of death could finally be ripped down, hung up elsewhere to shrivel and flee; he’d finally be free of cancer.

Six months after sweltering summer kisses on a dock and you were still sick with longing for Bucky. He calls rarely because your civilian life can’t bleed into your hero life; you’re the only one with family—the only one with a possible hostage situation.

Two conversations, maybe. With his low timbre saying hello. Don’t know when I’ll see you, but I’ll dream of you until I do. And the sadness in your gut volleys into hope—careens itself into balmy spring and the taste of his tongue on yours. The only reprieve you receive is in darkness, when you might be lucky enough to find him under a clear June sky, the two of you meeting in the middle of a midnight yearning.

The days between Christmas and New Years smear together. A foggy mess of unknown hours and habits, waking and sleeping all blurring into some kind of purgatory overcrowded with glazed ham leftovers and candles with names like Twisted Peppermint and Merry Berry.

A steaming mug is slid over the frosted windowsill on the 30th. Your youngest sister plops down on the sofa seat with a hum, pulling striped red and green sock encased knees up to her chest. Mind-reading. That connection between siblings.

“You go.” She states casually, and it takes you by surprise. “Dad’s doing well. You go. World needs you and all.”

Under a heavy quilt, you’re already quivering with preemptive heartbreak. A sip of your drink and the beginning of a protest before she puts up her hand, “We’ll be fine.” Then, a smirk and a roll of her eyes, “Figures. You finally fall for a guy and he’s probably Captain America.”

You bite your smile down and stay silent.

-

Voicemail. Even the automated tone repeating his phone number before the shrill beep gives you butterflies. War drums echoing from your chest. The practiced message you ran through your head sounds stupid no matter how many times you rehearse it. No matter how many times you’ve dreamt of him and this moment.

“H-hey... I, uh, I’m heading to the compound. Uh. Well, I think I’ll be there in time for tomorrow night’s party. Can’t wait to see you, Buck.”

A string of the dumbest syllables ever known to man.

-

The commons room is aglow when you arrive. Soft and brilliant in orange and yellow, warming up the darkness of dimmed lights. There are at least three trees on your way in, lit up with gold, then blue, then silver for the third, overflowing with ribbon and sparkling garland. Hand-blown glass ornaments refract a rainbow array of hues. There is fake snow in a trail flanking the velvet red carpet running inside, shaped meticulously so that it imitates a snowbank to perfection. Soft music hums from deeper in, harps and violins, and the smell of the fireplace crackling spiced woody notes soothes your bones.

Pepper’s outdone herself heralding in the New Year. You’ll have to apologize for dripping water all the way in, pelted by snow and shuddering head to toe.

It’s flurrying in New York, alright. Your chattering teeth are a testament to the temperature.

Natasha’s the first to see you by the entrance. A raise of her champagne class and you grin shyly, stepping in, wet boots tracking to the bar. Steve beams and rushes across the room, nicking off his conversation with a fan in the middle, throwing his arms around you for a hug.

“He’s in D.C.—does he know you’re— Christ, where’s your coat?"

You shake your head and quiet your trembling as you take in Steve’s pressed denim shirt and his slacks and hair neatly combed to one side. Clean shaven and handsome, twinkling eyes as he holds tight. Your shoes are dripping onto his and you chuckle, “I forgot it—too eager, I suppose.”

The gown you pulled on at the airport is an old one—silvery lavender with thin trails of sparkling tinsel. Worn once during an undercover mission near New Mexico and then hung up to sway limply in your sister’s closet because it was too beautiful to discard even though it smelled like gunpowder. The excitement of your arrival was too pressing that you’d forgotten the right shoes. Boots it is—black and clunky, the kind you’d prefer to have on in a fight.

“He’ll be mad you’re not dressed for the weather.” A silly grin as if Steve’s hiding a secret. Then, a single raise of his sandy brow as he looks down. The gossamer hem a darker purple as it sways over your shoes. “But maybe you can go barefoot for tonight.”

-

Sam is elated when he arrives, pulling you into a spin before his hand clasps onto yours and he sways all the way to the middle of the dance floor. It’s like you never left as he chatters on, making you laugh and cry, his steps goading the band to play faster accompaniments.

Three songs in and you’re reminded of how tired you are from the trip. Your feet are freezing on the tile and so you lead Sam to the couches, accepting a drink from Natasha’s hand before leaning into her, tingling toes tucked beneath your thighs. She plays with your hair, rubs your shoulder, and whispers that it hasn’t been the same without you.

“I remember this dress. We got into some trouble that mission.” And you know that look even without seeing it. Half-smirk, eyebrow up, the Natasha trademark.

You laugh at the memory. Gunpowder from her Beretta and the skirt hiked up to reveal your own pistol strapped tightly to your thigh. Beneath it had been a knife. Overkill, you’d thought, but it came in handy anyway.

“James will appreciate your sentimentality.”

The two of you had played lovers, and it was easy slipping into the role. Your heart flutters at the memory and how nervous you had been when his hand caressed yours at the auditorium entrance. He had bent over and whispered that you looked beautiful, and you snorted in return—a broken noise of disbelief.

“We missed you.” Natasha blows into your ear playfully, “You won’t believe how annoyingly long he sulked. If he’s not here at midnight, you’re getting a kiss from me.”

“Woah. I’m gonna kiss her.” Sam protests, leaning forward dramatically.

You turn to Steve with a grin, waiting for his bid but he only puts his hands up, palms faced outward. “Not me. I’m not trying to get into any fights with Buck. Had enough of that for a while, if none of you remember.”

A few more minutes of chatting and you dismiss your friends, shooing them back to their company and unwilling to take up any more of their time.

New Year’s Eve and you certainly can’t be the most interesting person here, you say. Check out the band, gosh, there’s a celebrity—and Tony, sweeping in with gusto to shoot a comment about how he didn’t even notice you were back but that your room is still in pristine condition, if you were wondering.

And you weren’t, but you thank him anyway with a wink.

11:50 and the back wall is glaring a projected image of the NYC ball drop. You stifle a yawn behind your hand, leaning over the couch lazily. Guests come and go, welcome you back, and you’re always a little startled when another stranger flits by to say hello and thank you. Everyone blurs together in a rush of sparkling cream gowns and silk suits.

11:55 and your eyes are shuttering close, cheekbone resting upon your palm.

11:58 and a hand is skimming up your arm, softly prodding, but you’re too tired to move.

Cheers and whoops. It’s so loud. Music crescendoes, Natasha placing a peck on your cheek along with a blanket over your shoulders and you reply with a wilted little smile. Then, you return to a familiar sweetened coffee black dream of someone tall and soft-spoken.

-

You jolt from the stupor with a gasp. The room has emptied and darkened, only lit by the soft glow of the projector spinning starry images. The blanket from your shoulders has slipped off some time ago, gathering to pool at your feet. Blinking sluggishly, you realize you’re no longer leaned against your palm on the edge of the couch.

Dusky pine and leather. Faint cool aftershave and the vital heartbeat of warm boy. Something heavy and buttery soft draped over your previously cold shoulders.

Another dream.

Yet, it feels more corporeal than ever before and the drumming in your chest strikes a thrilled beat. Your hands wildly pat him up and down, drawing forth his sweet laugh at your antics. You don’t stop, though, running up the neoprene vest, the straps buckled over his torso, his strong jaw and chin. Then hair, those long chestnut strands lightly curled at the edges, grown a little longer and tucked loosely behind his ears.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, honey.”

You bristle in disbelief, distracted by the realization with some embarrassment that you’ve been sleeping on top of him for who knows how long.  Stupid syllables stuck like caramel chews in your mouth, welding your teeth together in a solid disappointment. After spending six months dreaming about seeing him again, now you’re finally here and you’ve got nothing to say. Bucky lifts his chin to place atop your head, pressing kisses down and chills race to your fingertips and toes.

“Nat said she kissed you at midnight,” Bucky muses, and you can just hear him smiling how he does when he thinks he’s done something clever. “And what about me? You owe me a kiss, unless you’re all done with kissin’ for the night?” His gloved finger traces your chin, thumb pad rubbing over your nose, lifting your gaze until you’re staring up into his eyes.

Blue, blue, blue, like milky ways dipped in a cerulean sea. Behind his head the cosmos continue to spiral, outlining him in silver and starlight. He is beautiful in the night, brighter than suns. You want to sob and say Bucky, Bucky, if I’m sleeping don’t wake me.

Cheekiness snuffs itself out as he tilts his head with a smile, eyes roaming over your expression curiously. A statement begins in the silence of his thumb caressing your cheek, then brow, then making a path down to your bottom lip, skimming over the edge.

He punctuates it with a press of his mouth to yours. Hand moving to latch onto your jaw, then neck, then cradling your head between two and your heart hurdles all the way to the finish line.

“Missed you.” He murmurs, “Missed you a lot.” Licks to your lips and you vaguely wonder when he learned how to sweep you completely off your feet. Bucky tugs on the lapels of his jacket around your shoulder, crushing your torso to his. After six months of longing and anguish, you could float away if he wasn’t holding on so tightly.

“You look beautiful. Always thought so.” Fingers rub the lavender tulle and he smiles. You didn’t believe him then, the night Bucky complimented you and yanked the knife from its strap. “Like a dream.”

Now, you know he means it.

“Happy New Year, honey.”

Bucky pulls you fully into his lap, solid beneath your hands and flush against your torso. Real. Real. Real.

Winter rages on outside. Wrapped up in him, here, now, finally, you’ve never felt warmer.

“Happy New Year, Bucky.”

-

perm tags:  @whothehellisbucky​​​ @serpentbaby​​​ @badassbaker​​​ @alagalaska​​​ @cake-writes​​​ @crist1216​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​ @infinity-saga​​​ @jamesbarnesthighs​​​ @pinknerdpanda​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​ @imsoft-barnes​​​ @momc95​​​ @typicalangel​​​ @wretchedgoddess​​​ @readeity​​​ @iwannasail​​​ @ya-lyublu-tebya​​​ @geeksareunique​​​ @wildefire​​​ @satanxklaus​​​ @jhangelface0523​​  @wkemeup​

[thecassadilla]

Anything For You

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 3,688/AO3

Summary: Anna agrees to go camping despite her uncertainties, but Kristoff has a few tricks up his sleeve to make their experience more comfortable.

Author’s Note: Hi all! Here I am, once again writing about a topic that I know nothing about. I’m sure I got something wrong haha. I’m also the most indecisive person on the face of the earth, so I couldn’t decide how to end this. I don't even know if any of this makes sense tbh XD I hope you enjoy it regardless! 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kristoff sighed.

“I wish I could stay, but we both have work in the morning and I have to drive home.” Anna wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he said sheepishly, before pulling away and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “You didn’t actually plan to do anything except hang out this weekend, right?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Well, I was hoping to go camping. I haven’t been in a long time - since before we got together - and I’d love for you to come with me,” he explained, before hastily adding, “But only if you want to, of course.”

“I’ve never been camping before,” she responded, feeling a bit uneasy about the idea. Any vacations that her family had taken had always been to some kind of fancy resort; the thought of camping had never crossed her mind as a thing people really did until she was a teenager.

“I know, and I know it’s probably not something you’re thrilled about, but it’s only for two nights. I really want to go hiking and fishing before it gets too cold out.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “If that’s what you want to do.”

“Really?” he asked, his face lighting up. 

“Of course! Don’t be silly.”

“This is going to be so great,” he smiled. “I wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but I’m really glad that you’re willing to come along.”

“I’d do anything for you, Kristoff,” she promised, giving him another hug for good measure. “I’ll let you know when I get home, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay, drive safely.”

“I will.”

She spent the entire twenty minute drive agonizing over what the weekend would be like; she knew nothing about camping. In her head, all she could picture were tents and sleeping bags in the middle of the cold, dark woods. She was so focused on her thoughts that she had no recollection of the actual drive; with a sigh, she made her way inside, taking notice of the fact that the lights were still on, which could only mean that her sister was awake. She kicked her shoes off in the entryway and texted Kristoff before venturing in. 

“Hey,” she called out as she approached the living room.

“Hi,” Elsa responded, not taking her eyes away from the book she was reading. “How are you?”

“Pretty good,” Anna responded, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “I’m going camping this weekend.”

Elsa looked up at her younger sister and blinked a few times in disbelief. “You’re going camping?”

“I know,” Anna cringed. “But it’s something that Kristoff really likes to do, and it’s not like I’ve ever done it before, so I don’t really know that I’m going to hate it.”

“I don’t know, sleeping on the floor in the middle of the woods sounds very unappealing to me.”

“Yeah, but we’ll be in a tent.”

“What about bugs? Or bears? Or the countless other wild animals that lurk in the woods?”

Anna shrugged, a bit of anxiety rising in her. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“And what will you eat? Where will you go to the bathroom?”

“I don’t know, Elsa,” she answered exasperatedly. “Look, I’m going to go and if it’s really awful then I’ll just request that next time we get a camper or something. But I don’t want to disappoint Kristoff and say ‘no’ off the bat because he does everything that I want to do.”

Elsa nodded thoughtfully. “That’s really nice of you. I don’t know if I would be willing to do the same.”

“I have a feeling that you’ll feel differently if you ever love someone,” she muttered under her breath, sliding off of the couch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go figure out what on earth I’m supposed to pack.”

She headed upstairs to her room, and sat down on her bed before grabbing her laptop and logging on. After a few minutes of research, it became clear that she didn’t have most of the things that were required to go camping in the fall, and amidst her anxiety returning, she decided that a quick call to her lifeline wouldn’t hurt.

Kristoff answered on the first ring. “Hey, Anna.”

“Hi, honey. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So, I’m trying to figure out what I have to bring with me this weekend, and I’m having a bit of a hard time because I don’t really have any of the things this website says I should have.”

“Like what?”

She squinted at the screen whilst reading off some of the items to him. “Waterproof boots, a rain jacket, a sleeping bag...sleeping pads? I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s like a cushion that you put down so you aren’t sleeping on directly on the hard ground,” he explained. “It’s also an extra layer of insulation.”

“Gotcha,” she remarked. “Will we have time to stop somewhere so I can get these things?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it covered.”

“I have total faith in you, I do - but unless you have a pair of boots in my size laying around somewhere, we will have to stop and get them.”

“It’ll all be taken care of,” he assured her.

“You know what? I’ll go to the mall and buy the stuff I need before we leave on Friday.”

“I don’t have any issues with stopping,” he promised. “You don’t have to rush out and go buy a bunch of stuff.”

“Alright,” she said, cautiously. “Can you text me a list of clothes I should pack? And what type of bag I should pack them in.”

“Absolutely, but you really won’t need as much as you think you do.”

“That’s easy for you to say; you’re a human furnace. It’s probably going to be very cold at night and everything I’ve read says to wear lots of layers.”

“Just...trust me,” he breathed, in a rather content tone. 

It was both comforting and alarming to her. “I trust you.”

“Please try not to worry about it, it’s going to be great.”

She smiled to herself. “I’ll try.”

“Good, now try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“And don’t forget to send me that list!” she called at the last second, and she heard him laugh before the line went dead.

Her phone buzzed a minute later; she glanced down at the text that read, Warm clothes, toiletries, backpack. Don’t overthink it. Love you.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes; it was the opposite of helpful. Regardless, she sent back a message thanking him, setting her mind to doing more research and getting the necessities at the mall.

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

A trip to the mall after work on Friday was not enough to quell Anna’s anxiety about the camping trip; she still felt wholly unprepared, even as she was sitting on the floor of her bedroom, folding her clothes and allowing her mind to race. A soft knock on the door brought her back to reality. She looked over, and Kristoff was leaning against her doorframe.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were here already!”

“I texted you, but it’s not a big deal. Elsa let me in.”

“Sorry, my phone is charging over there,” she said, pointing to her desk.

He sat down on the edge of her bed and watched as she hurried to throw her clothes into her backpack. “Is that my hoodie?”

“Maybe.” She shoved the sweatshirt into the bag and changed the subject. “I went to the mall today.”

He cocked his head. “I promised that we would stop to get the stuff that you needed.”

“I know. We still have to stop at the camping supplies store for my boots. The sporting goods store at the mall was all sold out and I need them.”

“We’ll get them. What’d you get at the mall?”

“I bought wool socks. And a puffer vest and a fleece jacket. I already had a hat and a scarf and mittens, of course.”

“That sounds good, you won’t feel cold wearing all of that.”

“I had to go on a wild goose chase for leggings, though, because all of the Victoria’s Secret leggings I have are made of cotton and that’s not a good material to wear while camping, apparently.”

“You did a lot of research about camping, huh?”

“I had to, my boyfriend was being intentionally vague,” she remarked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I wasn’t being intentionally vague,” he corrected. “You’re not an avid hiker and camper, you don’t really need special camping-only clothes.”

She zipped up her bag. “But you like camping, so this is probably not a one time thing - unless you plan on going without me after this.”

“You’re always invited,” he assured her. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I feel a little unprepared, though. Are you sure that I have everything I’ll need?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he chuckled. “It’s going to be fine.”

Anna stood up and unplugged her phone and it’s charger, stuffing them both into the side pocket of her backpack. She slid one of the straps over her shoulder. “Ready.”

He followed her down the stairs and to the front door, where Elsa was waiting. 

“Be safe,” she said, pulling Anna in for a hug.

“We will,” Anna assured her. “See you on Sunday.”

“Have fun!” Elsa called from the doorway as they walked out.

They climbed into the car, which was parked at the end of the driveway, and Anna set her backpack on the floorboard near her feet. Kristoff started the engine, then leaned over the center console to reach something in the backseat. Upon turning back around, set a box on her lap. “Here, these are for you.”

It was a shoe box. She flipped open the lid and inside were grey hiking boots with purple accents and laces. Her breath caught in her throat. “You bought me boots?”

“Yeah, you said you needed them.”

“You remembered my shoe size?”

“...Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “Was I not supposed to know?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I only dragged you shoe shopping, like, once so I didn’t think that you knew what size I wore.”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere,” he corrected. “It’s just something that I paid attention to. I know for a fact that you know my shoe size even though I’ve never bought shoes in front of you.”

“I do,” she nodded, looking down at the box again. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Anything for my girl,” he grinned, shifting gears from park to drive. 

The drive up to the campsite went by fast; the roads were empty and they were able to enjoy each other’s company and talk as they made their way through the mountains, as well as stop at a diner for a quick meal. After an hour on the road, Kristoff pulled into a parking lot surrounded by lush green pine trees.

“This is the place?” she asked, a wave of anxiety rushing over her. The sky was overcast and it was a little foggy, and on top of that she couldn’t see any visible trails or signage from where she was sitting. She figured that there had to be one around here somewhere.

He nodded, parking on the far end. “This is it.”

He climbed out of the car and went around the back to open the trunk. In the meantime, she opened her own door and twisted so her legs could hang out and she could put her boots on. She toed off her sneakers, and slid her foot into the first boot, realizing for the first time how heavy they were.

Kristoff appeared in front of her. “You need some help?” 

“No, I’ve got it,” she answered, tugging the laces through the hook eyelets. When they felt tight enough, she tied the ends onto a knot and started with the other boot. When she finished, he held out his hand and she took it before hopping out of the car. 

“Put your sneakers in your backpack,” he recommended. “You’ll be dying to take those off when we get to the site.”

“Okay,” she agreed. She did as he said, squeezing the shoes into the bag and then slid her arms into each of the straps. She closed the door and walked back to the trunk, growing concerned when she realized he hadn’t brought that much stuff along with him. “Where’s all your stuff?”

“It’s right here,” he said, patting the duffle bag. 

“There’s no way that that’s everything we need for two nights.”

“Everything’s in here,” he assured her.

“You’re joking, right? Where’s the tent? The sleeping bags? Food and water? They can’t all possibly fit in that tiny bag.”

He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “Anna, relax, you’re working yourself up over nothing. I’ve got it all covered, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, exhaling shakily. She wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, but he was the camping expert. 

He removed his hands in order to close the trunk, and then took her by the hand. “Come on, we’re going this way.”

He led her toward a densely packed area of trees, no path in sight. She gulped. “We aren’t going to be following a trail? We’re just going to...walk in the woods?”

“Yup,” he answered.

“That doesn’t seem very safe,” she remarked. 

“I know these woods, we’ll be fine.”

Although he was trying to be reassuring, it was not helpful in the slightest. Her mind was wandering - what would they do if they encountered a wild animal? Or if they got lost - how would help find them? Would they starve to death or freeze to death? Meanwhile, Kristoff was as cool as a cucumber, forging ahead and seemingly doing so without a care in the world.

They walked for a long time, much longer than she had imagined they would. The woods were damp and cold, with lots of ups and downs in the terrain. A slight separation formed between them, and she trailed behind him, struggling to keep up. They kept the talking to a minimum, until she recognized the area that they were in.

“Hey, haven’t we passed these trees before?”

“No.”

She wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. “Are you sure? Because I swear that I’ve seen this fallen tree.”

“It’s your mind playing tricks on you,” he assured her. “Just keep walking, don’t pay too much attention to the trees because they all look alike.”

She threw her head back in a moment of frustration and groaned, but did as he said and kept walking. She kept reminding herself that he knew a lot more than she did, but it was incredibly difficult to not worry about their safety. Her feet were starting to ache from wearing the unbroken-in boots, and carrying the weight of her backpack was getting harder and harder on her back and shoulders with each step. When it had started to become noticeably darker, and they were still walking, she spoke up again.

“Kristoff?” she called, a little breathless from the thin mountain air. 

He turned around. “Yeah?”

“Shouldn’t we stop somewhere soon? I know that you’re the camping expert, but it’s getting dark out and we still need to set everything up.”

He stopped for a moment, allowing her enough time to catch up to him before they continued. “The site is just a little bit further ahead, we’ll make it.”

“I trust you, but you’re making me a little nervous.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” he assured her, in a sincere tone.

She stopped dead in her tracks regardless. “No offense, but that’s something a serial killer would say.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Did you just accuse me of bringing you out here so I could murder you?”

He reached out to take her hand and she took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s just a little too convenient. I may be a lot smaller than you, but I could kick your ass if I have to.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he chuckled, motioning for her to continue following him.

She did, though she tried to keep a safe distance in case she had to run. “You’re just acting so...strange.”

“You’ll see why as soon as we get past this cluster of trees.”

Suddenly, the land in front of them cleared into a wide open space. He pointed to a rather large campground that was not populated by tents, but rather by a few wood cabins. “There. That’s where we’re staying.”

Her heart was racing, now. “But those are cabins.”

“I know.”

“Wait, are we not sleeping in a tent?”

“We’re not,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Surprise.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m so confused.”

“Look, I know that you’ve never been camping before, and I really wanted you to come along, but I knew that you were a little uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping outside.”

“You did this for me?”

“Of course,” he said in a low voice, before pressing a kiss to her temple. “You agreed to come because you knew it would make me happy. The least I could do was make sure that you would be comfortable.”

“But I just…accused you of being a serial killer. And I threatened to beat you up.”

“Because I spent an hour and a half leading you in circles around the woods and deflecting your questions to throw you off.”

She blinked a few times, unable to slow her pounding heart or her racing mind. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about we go check it out?”

“Okay,” she nodded.

The walk across the field was much easier than their trudge through the woods. 

“My truck is actually parked right over there.” He pointed to the right, and though it was hard to see, there was a parking lot just past the furthest cabin on that side. He then pointed to the furthest cabin on the left. “We’re staying in that last one on the left.”

“How did I not see any of these?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Because I parked on the far end and took you through the woods, behind the cabins. If I had wanted you to see them, you would’ve.”

“This isn’t technically camping, you know,” she pointed out. 

“It’s glamping,” he smirked. “Besides, we can’t have you freezing to death out there.”

She frowned. “I just feel bad that you got jipped out of a real camping trip.”

“I didn’t get jipped out of anything,” he promised. “We can go hiking and fishing, we can build a campfire right outside of the cabin and look up at the stars, and best of all, you’re here with me - that’s the most important thing.”

In no time, they were walking up the stairs to the small deck of the cabin, where two chairs and a small table sat. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door before leading her inside. It was much nicer than she anything she could’ve expected; a large, comfortable-looking bed in the far corner, and a couch near the front door. It was cozy and quaint, and the absolute opposite of sleeping in a tent in the middle of the woods. 

“It’s not fancy, but there’s a bed, and a bathroom, and a kitchenette,” he said, pointing out each of those areas as he said its name. “I already stocked up the fridge, and look! We have electricity and heat, but there’s also a fireplace and we can keep a fire going.”

She was at a loss for words, and frankly, a little disoriented. The boots, the cabin, it was all so unexpected and so...thoughtful. So romantic.

He glanced down at her face and squeezed her shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m just a little shocked, that’s all,” she answered, her voice soft and shaky.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I totally wasn’t expecting this and I’m a little overwhelmed, but in a good way.”

“Do you need to sit down?”

“No, no,” she said, frantically waving her hands around as she spoke. “It’s just that I agreed to come camping to make you happy, and even if I absolutely hated it, I’d still do it again because I know you love it and I love you so I want you to be happy all the time, of course, but then you turn around and do this amazing thing to make me happy, and even though I’ve known for a long time that you’re the person I want to be with for the rest of my life -”

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“More than anything,” she breathed. “I’ve never been so certain about something.”

“I feel the same way,” he cooed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I want a lifetime with you.”

“I didn’t even know that loving someone this much was possible,” she mumbled, reaching up to his face and gently brushing her thumb against his lips before settling it on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I really can’t believe that you did this.”

“You make me so unbelievably happy,” he confessed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him; she closed her eyes, taking in his smell. He smelled vaguely of pine and body wash and sweat, and she was sure that she smelled the same. His leaned down, his breath was warm on her face when he whispered, “I’d do anything for you.”

She softly pressed her lips to his before leaning back to meet his gaze. “How about we make good on that promise, then?”

[lumassen]

The First Snow

I haven’t posted a drabble on here in a while so here u go <3

Summary: The Nordics have a tradition that each year, at the first snowfall, they retreat to their cabin to enjoy each others company and forget about the world for a little while.

Words: 2,200

Honestly, this drabble is just our Guys being Dudes™ inspired purely by @tolyys​ adorable headcanon that Sweden knits matching socks for the rest of the Nordics.

----

"Yo guys, can we slow down? I can't feel my feet!"

Iceland turned around to find Denmark now a good couple of paces behind the group as they walked the last stretch of the hillside up to their cabin. He was struggling, the bottom of his jeans were visibly soaking wet around his shins, as he trudged through the snow. Glancing back over his shoulder for a moment, Iceland first caught the expression on Norway's face as he rolled his eyes and hitched his backpack further up his shoulders. Then, Sweden shook his head and Finland shrugged as his gaze flickered to them, silently leaving Iceland as the obvious group choice to be the ‘Denmark saviour’ this year.

"Fine. You guys go ahead, we'll catch up." He muttered, pulling off his mittens and easing his way back down the hill to Denmark's aid, treading carefully as to not slip.

"Icey, I could really use one of your ugly, itchy sweaters right now." Denmark laughed breathlessly once Iceland reached him, his lips blue and his breath clouding around him.

It was a tradition for the five of them to take a trip to the cabin that they shared up in Kilpisjärvi once the first snow had fallen at the beginning of winter. Kilpisjärvi was a tiny village only a couple kilometres away from the Three-Country Cairn where the borders of Finland, Sweden and Norway met. This location was chosen to stop the bickering between Finland and Norway over whose house they should buy the cabin in. It was as close to fair as they could possibly get, though Finland was definitely smug about the fact that Kilpisjärvi was technically part of his land.

Iceland tutted at the sight of Denmark as he thrust his mittens hard against his stomach, winding him a little.

"We tell you every year that it's going to be cold, Dan. This is pretty much the Arctic Circle." he snapped, watching as Denmark's trembling hands took the mittens and shoved them on before he pulled his wooly hat a little further down over his ears.

Sweden, Finland and Norway were growing smaller and smaller in the distance as they neared the cabin that could now be seen poking through the trees. Unlike Denmark in jeans, leather boots, a smart sweater and a button down coat, they were dressed in winter waterproofs with hiking shoes and thermal insulation. Finland's laughter could be heard echoing cheerfully over the hillside as Iceland slowed his pace to match Denmark's trudging.

“But I got my hat... and my biggest coat! It snows... at my house too, y’know!” he cried in between breaths as he blew as hard as he could on his cold fingers in an attempt to warm them.

Iceland shook his head and smiled softly in spite of Denmark,  though choosing not to say anything about the fact that the chilly breeze that blew across the docks of Copenhagen was nothing compared to an open, arctic mountainside. Both of them were breathing heavily by the time they reached the top of the hill, but once they were out of the open and amongst the silver birch and arctic evergreen though the wind was considerably less biting, and Iceland could smell the smoke from the woodburner that Sweden must have already lit to warm the cabin. The winter sun was already getting low in the sky despite it only being 2pm, and long, dusky pink shadows stretched across the snow.

At the sound of Denmark dramatically stomping his feet on the decking to free his shoes from the thick layers of snow that clung to them, Norway opened and poked his head out of the front door.

“Ah, the stragglers finally made it, I see.” He said, opening the door a little wider and stood back as Iceland and Denmark hurried inside and out of the cold.

“The fire’s going and the coffee’s brewing on the stove.” Norway continued as he walked down the hall toward the living room, his bare feet padding softly across the hardwood floor, now dressed in his favourite Dale cardigan and pyjama bottoms that he would no doubt live in for the next week.

Iceland unzipped his windbreaker and hung it up on the coat hook beside Sweden’s before bending down to untie his boots and pulled a face as he accidentally knelt in the puddle of water that was quickly forming from the snow melting off Denmark's shoes.

“Tanska!” Finland called to Denmark from the living room, “Don’t leave your coat in the hall, it’ll dry faster in front of the fire!”

It was as though Finland knew that Denmark would see no problem in hanging his coat up with the rest despite the fact that it would just drip dry all over the floor. Now that his shoes were off and he was in from the cold, Iceland could feel the tips of his fingertips burning from the sudden change in temperature as he pressed them against the small of Denmark's back and ushered him out of the way and into the living room.

Their cabin was quaint and cozy, just big enough for the five of them, with a huge viewing window stretching across one of the walls in the living room looking out at the vastness of trees and snow beyond. They had even seen the Aurora Borealis a couple times and all camped out on the floor of the living room in sleeping bags with the lights off to watch them dance across the sky and fall asleep beneath them. A fire flickered in the grate and Finland sat cross legged on the rug in front of it, taking Denmark's coat from him and draping it across the back of a chair that he’d pulled up in front of it when he passed it to him.

Iceland had just flopped himself down on the couch when Sweden stopped rummaging around in his bag and cleared his throat, standing up with something clasped in his hands behind his back. Denmark and Finland stopped talking to look at him, and probably upon noticing the chatter quieten from the kitchen, Norway came through balancing a tray with five mismatched mugs on it. He set them down on the table in the middle of them all then took a seat next to Iceland and brought his legs up to his chest.

Sweden glanced to Finland for a moment, and Iceland watched as he nodded at him, a small smile on his round face.

“Thanks for coming, everyone. The First Snow has always meant somethin’ ever since we were kids; sufferin’ through the winters, fighting and arguing. It’s nice to be able to enjoy it together again now that’s behind us.” he said, his eyes darting between the four other Nordics before him.

“We wouldn’t miss it, Sví.” Sensing Sweden’s slight hesitation, Iceland sat forward on the couch and gave him a small smile as he took his hands from behind his back and revealed five small gifts wrapped in brown paper tied with string and a sprig of spruce. Sweden handed one to him, and Iceland held out his hands to accept it.

“Made these for you.”

Sweden too smiled now as Finland leapt up from where he was sitting on the floor and Denmark beamed, grabbing a mug of coffee from the table and his gift from Sweden.

“N’aw, Sverige, ya didn’t have to get us anything!” he said loudly, his voice filling the room as always.

Norway was the last to take his gift from Sweden, taking it from him with a mumbled ‘ takk ’ and a crooked smile, yet the first to open it; his nimble fingers gently tearing the paper to reveal a pair of thick woolen socks. Finland tore into his, Denmark doing the same only to gasp and slap Sweden on the back and spill a couple drops of coffee over the side of his mug onto the floor.

“You always were creative, bud! There’s nothin’ you can’t make!” he said, and Sweden looked pleasantly surprised at his words, so much so that he didn’t even pull Denmark up for spilling his drink.

Ever the observant one, Iceland took his pair of socks out of their wrapping and studied them before glancing around at the others as they clasped them in their hands. His own pair were grey with dark blue toe and heel patches and a tiny version of his flag stitched just above where they would sit on his ankles. The other’s socks all followed the same pattern of their patch colours matching the main colour of their flag, complete with the tiny flag.

“What about you, Sve? I’m sorry, we didn’t think to get anything this year.” Norway said, setting his socks down beside him on the couch as he fiddled absentmindedly with his hairpin, looking a little troubled at the thought that Sweden had made them gifts that they hadn’t returned.

But Sweden just grinned and pulled his trouser leg up to reveal his own pair, yellow and blue, and wiggled his toes.

“Made mine first then thought how disappointed you’d all be when ya saw how cool I looked.” he teased, and Norway rolled his eyes with a smirk.

Then, Finland reached for his coffee mug and held it in the air as if to toast. Quickly, Iceland leaned over to the table and picked up his mug and Finland passed Sweden the last one that remained on the tray before lifting his own a little higher,

“Happy First Snow!” he cheered, the others saying it back just as loudly as they all clinked their mugs together.

---------

By the time the fire had started to die down, the five were sat in a circle on the rug, feet clad in their matching socks. Denmark and Finland’s hair was still a little damp from where they had been out to the sauna while Sweden, Norway and Iceland had prepared dinner, which once served had covered every inch of the dining table.

Now, with full stomachs and fuzzy heads, the coffee had been replaced by beers and spirits as the outside world and their mobile phones were long forgotten about as they lay discarded around the cabin. There were no doubt missed notifications from their bosses, but neither of the five Nordic nations could bring themselves to care if only for tonight.

“I say we play “ My Ship ” next-” Norway began as he put the deck of cards back into the box, only to be interrupted by Finland who spluttered to get his words out after quickly swallowing the swig of vodka tonic that he’d just taken,

“Eiiii, Norja, My Ship is boring, especially when you three switch to saying words in Old Norse.” he said, narrowing his eyes at Sweden and pointing at him sat opposite him. Sweden raised his hands, feigning innocence, yet cast a knowing glance at Denmark who snickered and poked Finland in the side playfully.

“We only do it to mess with ya, Finny!” Denmark laughed heartily and the glare didn’t stay on Finland’s face for very long before his warm smile returned.

Tearing his eyes away from the glowing embers in the grate, Iceland stifled a yawn and pulled the blanket that was wrapped around his shoulders a little tighter and leaned his head against Finland’s shoulder for a moment, feeling sleep making his eyes heavy.

“Well whatever it is you guys decide, play it without me ‘cause I’m going to bed.” he said, then pushed off Finland and stood up though still kept the blanket draped around him like a cape. Numerous empty cups and glasses littered the floor as he picked his way around them before he stopped and turned around in the doorway.

“Góða nótt.” he muttered, then waited until the others had finished bidding him goodnight before he took himself off to his room. As much as the likes of Sweden and Denmark liked to pretend that they could still stay up until all hours like they could when they were younger, Iceland knew that it would only be a matter of an hour or so before they would follow his lead and excuse themselves to go to bed, leaving Finland and Norway to be the ones to stay up half the night until the vodka bottles were empty and just chat in hushed voices for hours by the window as they looked out into the nature beyond. It was the same every year without fail and Iceland had grown to love the familiarity of their cottage trips though he would never admit it.

Closing the door gently behind him, Iceland took the blanket off and tossed it onto the bed beside him as he sat down and got ready for bed, smiling once again as he peeled Sweden’s socks from his feet and draped them over the bedpost. They were only socks, but their symbolism was enough to create a warmth inside of Iceland’s chest.

Over the years, they had all had their differences, dragged between each other's houses and suffered under many a boss who thought what they were doing was right until eventually Iceland was the last of the five to gain his independence. Oddly enough though, that day in 1944 was the day they finally felt like a family.

Turning the light out and shuffling down under the covers, Iceland lowered his head down onto the pillow and closed his eyes, listening to the muffled laughter and chatter coming from the living room, feeling as safe and happy as he probably ever could.