#summer camp stories

[girltalkcollectives]

When Did You First Learn Your Skin Color Was 'Different'? I was 5.

TW: racism, childhood trauma

You never forget your first time. Not your first kiss, or your first day of school, but your first experience with racism. Mine happened between juice boxes and monkey bars.

I was five years old, rocking my favorite yellow sundress and butterfly hair clips, excited for my first day of summer camp. Mom had braided my hair the night before, and I felt like the prettiest girl in the world. You know that pure, untainted confidence only little kids have? That was me that morning.

It didn't last past snack time.

The Scene:

Picture this: A sunny playground in mid-July. Kids running around playing tag. The smell of sunscreen and fruit punch in the air. Normal summer camp things. I'd just finished my apple juice and was ready to join a group of girls playing "princesses" in the corner of the playground.

What happened next is seared into my memory with the kind of clarity that only trauma brings:

"You can't play with us." "Why not?" "Because you're black. No black people allowed!"

They started running around the playground, turning it into a chant: "No black people allowed! No black people allowed!"

Just like that, my yellow sundress didn't feel so pretty anymore.

The "Explanation":

The counselors, bless their well-meaning hearts, tried to handle it. They put the other girls in time-out and gave them the standard "we don't exclude people" talk. Then one of them sat down with me, probably seeing my confusion and hurt, and tried to explain:

"It's like if you're wearing a green shirt and they don't like the color green…"

That's right. They compared my skin color – my identity, my heritage, my entire existence – to a shirt you can just change.

My Mother's Rage:

When my mom picked me up and heard about the "green shirt" explanation, I learned what righteous fury looked like. I remember her face changing, her grip on the steering wheel tightening.

"Baby, let me explain something to you," she said, turning to face me fully. "Your skin is not a shirt you can take off. It's not something you can change, and it's not something you should want to change. It's beautiful, it's who you are, and anyone who can't see that is the one with the problem."

Then she marched right back into that camp office.

The Adults Let Us Down:

Looking back now, I'm struck by how many adults failed that day:

The counselors who oversimplified racism to a shirt color

The parents who raised kids who already knew how to be racist at 5

The camp administration who probably thought time-out solved racism

The Things You Remember:

It's wild what sticks with you from moments like these:

The pattern of my yellow sundress (butterflies and flowers)

The taste of apple juice turning sour in my mouth

The sound of their sing-song voices: "No black people allowed!"

The hot shame of standing alone

The way my butterfly clips suddenly felt heavy

The confusion of not understanding what I'd done wrong

The Lessons Learned Too Early:

At five years old, I learned:

My skin color could make me an outsider

Some people would hate me without knowing me

Adults don't always know how to help

Racism isn't always hood-wearing obvious

Sometimes it comes with pigtails and juice boxes

What Nobody Tells You:

The first cut of racism might come from children, but the wound is deepened by the adults who don't know how to handle it. Well-meaning white counselors comparing fundamental identity to clothing choices. Authority figures who think time-out can cure generational prejudice.

To My Five-Year-Old Self:

Sweet girl in the yellow sundress:

It was never about you

Your skin is not a shirt

Your beauty is not debatable

Their racism was not your burden to bear

You deserved better

You were perfect exactly as you were

To Parents and Educators:

Don't compare immutable characteristics to clothing

Don't oversimplify racism to make yourself comfortable

Don't pretend time-out solves systemic issues

Do have real conversations about race

Do validate children's experiences

Do call racism what it is

The Reality:

First memories should be about:

Making friends

Learning to swim

Playing games

Summer fun

Being a kid

Not learning that your skin color makes you "different."

Moving Forward:

That day changed me, as first encounters with racism always do. But my mother's response taught me something more powerful: to stand tall, to know my worth, and to never let anyone make me feel less than because of my skin.

To the little Black girls at summer camp: You are beautiful, you belong, and it's not your job to make others comfortable with your existence.

And to my fellow Black women who remember their "first time" all too well – I see you, I feel you, and I hope you're healing too.

[i-have-41-protons]

I have been the agender and aromantic awakening for a twelve year old schizophrenic

[upside-down-sock-drawer]

Absolutely unrelated but when I was at summer camp this guy in my group was talking about what would happen if girls' periods aligned with the moon cycles. After that, any time a girl got her period or we discussed periods we referred to it as "werewolf days"

new period poll but i remembered to change the duration this time

once again, don’t want any terfs touching this. also: doing this a second time bc a lot of people found the old one after it was done (i forgot to change the duration from day to week. this new one will last a week)

[very-uncorrect]

Everyone talking about needing their bedtime stories because it's 11pm for them I didn't realise so many British people used AO3

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flashback, warm nights.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[tomatosoupandpasta]

Reminds me to when I went to a summer camp when I was younger and the girls I was sleeping in a cabin with were letting me yap about my life until the girl I was yapping with went silent

I was like "??? Hello?? You still there" and she woke up and said "sorry your voice is just really soothing" AND THAT WAS A GREAT DAY

I just talked to my gf about waterfall heights until she fell asleep I fucking rule

[bogkeep]

idk why there's so much discussion around the ~*morality of traumadumping*~ when it's a VERY solvable social conundrum. all you need to do is ask something like "hey is it ok if i talk about this thing? it's kind of heavy" and respect the answer

[scootersscooter]

Don't think I'll ever forget how y'all bitches villified Camila Noceda and made her out to be an abusive parent for literally no reason other than racism

[spookcataloger]

Spirit Camp (2020)

[sapphicsnzs]

camping with allergies is so adorable especially with a significant other. being outside all day kicking off their allergies. then holding them close by the campfire and having the smoke tickle their nose more. and then finally exhausted after a day of sneezing cuddling into their partner in the tent only to realize there’s so much dust in there. also the idea of not having tissues because you can’t throw them out so having to use a bandana, a shirt, or your partner…

[simazinblr]

Summer Camp

Magnolia Creek Camp

Malaysia had no reason to be stressed out, Benjamin was having the time of his life. He made new friends, played games, fished, swam, learned about wildlife, did arts and crafts. Pretty much everything you'd expect at summer camp.

[i-have-41-protons]

I smile all the time. Sometimes people are really creeped out by it, like one of my summer camp roommates who was genuinely scared of me because of my smile for a whole of two days. Then we became besties and did ballet instead of slow dancing

[julesdaydreams]

@wolfstarmicrofic I Summer Camp AU I word count: 1114

Since the age of 7, Sirius has been sent to Summer Camp every year. His parents called it “educational”, however, he had always known that Walburga and Orion just didn’t want to deal with their first born son four weeks straight - Regulus was allowed to stay home after all.

The Summer Camp he went to had been the same for the last eight years. And he hated every bit of it.

First, there were the people. The adults were exactly the type that Walburga loved. They scolded Sirius whenever he didn’t sit straight enough and made him do chores whenever he acted out.

And the other kids? Boring at best, fucking annoying at worst. They were your typical posh suck-ups, looking down on everyone and thinking they’re the greatest person to exist.

Secondly, the whole place was fucking depressing, to say the least. It’s like a bunch of dementors sucked the life out of it. There was no colour anywhere. Believe him, Sirius has spent the last eight years looking - unsuccessfully.

Lastly, there was nothing - absolutely nothing - interesting to do. The whole thing was scheduled to the T. And between boring history classes, stiff dance lessons and the hundredth playthrough of Beethoven’s Sonata No. 23 in F Minor, Sirius had little time to actually enjoy his summer holidays. And every time he tried to have some fun it just ended with him having to wash the dishes that night - again - as well as another letter to his parents, stating his lack of obedience - as if that was anything new.

So, this year, Sirius walked into his room for the next four weeks with the same expectations as every year, just to come to a sudden stop the second he opened the door.

Because instead of finding his depressing room with the uncomfortable twin sized bed and plain white walls empty and lacking of life as usual, there was a very much alive (and very much cursing) brown-haired boy, messing with the white bedsheet.

“Fucking- shit. Why won’t this bloody thing just- ugh!”

The boy yanked at the sheets, causing one of the corners he had already tucked in to spring free again, leaving the whole thing untucked. Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene, making the other boy’s head snap up, noticing him for the first time.

“Oh! Shit, you’re already here!”, he blurted out, seemingly not out of his own volition. His eyes were wide and he looked at Sirius with something he couldn’t quite make out before it was wiped away, a blank - one might say professionally polite - expression taking place, which seemed off on the young face, like it wasn't used to such an expression.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I’ll be done in here shortly, if you don’t mind waiting a moment.”, said a much more composed voice and Sirius hated the sound for some reason.

“No need to call me “sir”. I’m fifteen not fifty.”, Sirius stated, dumping his bag at the foot of the bed before sitting down on the blank mattress. There was a flicker of something akin to surprise on the boy’s features before it was wiped yet again.

But before the boy could respond, Sirius interjected, wanting to see more of that cursing and dishevelled boy from before.

“I’m Sirius by the way. And you are?”, he asked, extending his hand (because yes - contrary to popular believe he had manners. At least when he wanted to have them).

The boy just looked puzzled at this, hesitantly extending his hand as well. It was rougher than Sirius’, adorned with pink and white scars that reach past his wrist and under his button down shirt. The handshake was over faster than it began and Sirius found himself missing the warmth that came with it. However he didn’t have much time to think about why that was because the boy was speaking again.

“Uhm… I’m Remus. Sorry about your bed again, I don’t really have this whole summer job thing figured out, yet.”, he said, looking a bit sheepish. Sirius’ mind was spinning with the new information.

“Right. I’ll better get someone who’s actually able to do their job, so I won’t bother you any longer.” Remus was at the door faster than Sirius could process and his mind went into panic mode. He didn’t want Remus to go. Remus leaving would mean the usual boredom of the first day and the stifling silence of the room. Sirius didn’t want that and Remus was the only way it would refrain from happening.

So - naturally - Sirius did the thing he did best, meaning that he put on his most charming smile as he jumped up form the bed, grabbing Remus’ arm to stop him.

“No! Wait, it’s no problem, we could do it together? It’s much easier to get the sheets on like that, I promise. And I really don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Round eyes blinked down at him, full of confusion and Sirius was about to apologize and say he could just do it on his own because clearly asking Remus to stay had been a very weird thing to do, when Remus smiled crookedly at him, taking a step back from the door.

Sirius released Remus’ arm from where he was still grasping it and soon the sheets were where they were supposed to be, bed made like it usually was, if a bit more wrinkled, but it’s not like Sirius cared.

They were both standing a bit awkwardly in the middle of the room, knowing that they really had no reason to both be here anymore. Remus snapped out of it first, giving a short nod before saying his goodbyes.

“Well. Thanks for helping, you really didn’t have to do that. Uhm- I’ll be going then.”

Sirius gave him a small smile, watching Remus shuffle out of the room. However, before the door could close fully, Sirius couldn’t help but get another word in.

“So, I’ll see you around then?” His voice was hopeful and he didn’t know why he felt so nervous all of a sudden, waiting for Remus to say something.

“Yeah. See you around.” With that the door closed and silence fell over the room. And Sirius couldn’t help but think that it felt different than all the last years, not as stifling. Somehow he knew, that with Remus here this summer, it wouldn’t be quite as horrible than it normally was.

[jrooc]

The final chapters of Light My Fire are live! Complete with a drag show and a private dance 👀 and incredible incredible art by @sgtmickeyslaughter

Read it now!

Thanks to my teammates for making this really fun ❤️ @sgtmickeyslaughter @solitarycreaturesthey

[takaraphoenix]

Camping & Bonding (Part 4)

Tags: m/m, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, Pack Mom Stiles, Pack Feels, True Mates, fluff, hurt/comfort, camping, mutual pining, m/f

Main Pairing: Derek/Stiles

Side Pairings: Scott/Allison, Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Cora Hale, Scott McCall, Allison Argent

@writersmonth Prompts Part 4: season + school

Summary: Stiles thinks the pack should go camping, as a bonding exercise. Much to his surprise, Derek agrees with his plan. So the pack goes off into the mountains to camp together.

This Fic on AO3 | This Fic on FFNet

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

--

Part 4: The Confession

They brought enough eggs to make twenty omelets. While the wolves went on their morning run to also hunt a little meat on the side of those eggs, Stiles went to forage for mushrooms and herbs with Lydia and Allison. A little walk of their own. It was nice. Chilly, but beautiful. The orange and red and yellow leafs. And every now and again, they saw the pack running by in the distance.

When the three of them returned to their camp side, they started prepping everything for breakfast before the wolves returned from their hunt. Once again, Derek dropped a dead animal in front of Stiles, which was going to keep freaking Stiles out. Just because he knew how to take them apart didn't exactly mean he enjoyed the sight of dead animals, especially not when they were unceremoniously dropped metaphorically in his lap.

"Good hunt," Stiles offered when the Alpha kept staring at him. "Now go wash up. Seriously."

And since when did Derek need this much affirmation? Still, it was kind of cute to see that preening Derek did at the praise before once again rounding up the pups to herd them to the creek for a quick wash. Shaking his head, Stiles waved Allison over to help him take apart the catch of the day.

"We could save some cuts for lunch, we brought enough bread to make sandwiches," Stiles suggested. "I was thinking we could go on a hike, so take them with us. Yes, we. All of us. Stop groaning, Lydia. It will not kill you, I promise you that."

Not that Stiles himself was the biggest fan of hiking. But he knew the pups needed the exercise and he knew this would be a great way of bonding. Plus, he'd heard the view was breathtaking.

"You do know what Derek is doing though, right?" Lydia asked, while stirring the omelet.

Stiles looked confused at her. "Uhm, currently? Taking a bath, I guess?"

"No, Stiles," Lydia heaved an exasperated sigh. "You look so confused every time Derek drops the hunt in front of you. I thought it was weird yesterday."

"Yeah, it really was weird, right?!" Stiles threw up his hands. "Thank you, Ly-"

"No, your reaction was weird," Lydia furrowed her brows. "Like you didn't know what he was doing. And now again. You don't know what he's doing, do you?"

Stiles paused, looking at her. "What… What do you mean? What is he doing?"

"How do you not know that, I thought you researched werewolves to the smallest detail."

"Don't sound so accusatory," Stiles glared. "How am I supposed to know everything. There might be things even I missed. Or didn't deem important at the time due to the massive volume of research to be done. Also school. Like. There are more things than the supernatural that I have to do too, studying and helping Scott study, and take care of my dad, and the household, and the pack-"

"He's courting you, Stiles," Lydia blurted out to interrupt him. "He's bringing you the game he caught himself, and don't think the wolves haven't noticed how much you two smelt like each other this morning. Jackson froze up and told me. You two weren't just sharing a tent."

"We shared some body-heat," Stiles defended with a blush. "But that's not-"

"Stiles," Allison offered him a small, nearly pitiful smile. "You're the only one who can sway Derek. Don't get me wrong, he listens to everyone's opinion, he learned to do that. But… but you are the one who can convince Derek of any of our ideas and who always has his ear and trust. You're his second, Stiles."

At that, Stiles huffed out a laugh. "No, I'm not. Peter is Derek's left hand."

"Not his left hand," Lydia heaved an exasperated sigh. "His second. His second half. The co-leader of this pack. The only one to outrank the left hand. How do you not see it."

Stiles froze and stared at the girls a little dumbly. He wasn't Derek's mate. He would know if he was Derek's mate. They'd known each other for well over a year now and they had been… close, for months. And Stiles was the one who figured these things out! Erica and Boyd. Jackson and Lydia. Allison and Scott. Heck, Allison and Scott were how Stiles had figured out that mates were a real thing, he had put that together. He would know if he was someone's mate.

/break\

Something had happened while the wolves bathed. When they returned, Stiles was… jittery. Even by Stiles standards. Derek frowned as he watched his mate cautiously.

"Training," Derek growled after breakfast. "Pair up. Erica and Jackson. Cora and Isaac. Boyd and Scott. Don't groan at me. You have predictable patterns that your usual go-to sparring partners know. Switch it up. Now go."

"Sourwolf," Stiles huffed annoyed as soon as the betas got up. "Don't growl at the pups."

He had his arms crossed and he was glaring at Derek, making the Alpha falter a little. Damn it, he needed to have better control. But when Stiles was upset – and especially when Stiles seemed upset with him – it still messed with Derek. Perhaps because Stiles was his anchor, Stiles calmed him, so when Stiles was upset, his anchor was the reason for Derek's own upset feelings.

"You flinched away when I touched you earlier."

How much Derek hated admitting these things. He crossed his own arms, trying to brace himself, glaring at a point behind Stiles – where the betas were training with each other and decidedly pretending they couldn't hear Stiles and Derek's conversation. Allison and Lydia were pretending to be busy with the clean-up. Stiles stared at him in bafflement.

"I didn't…" Stiles trailed off and then sighed. "I didn't mean to. I was just really in my head and you startled me. But, Der, c'mon. Even if I flinched, that should not make you lash out at the pups! They didn't do anything."

"They didn't," Derek agreed, with a heavy sigh. "I'm… sorry. I just… It messes with me when you… When something is wrong with you."

"Why," Stiles frowned at him.

Derek remained stubbornly silent. He couldn't tell Stiles. He shouldn't tell Stiles.

"Why," Stiles asked again, more pointed, his eyes narrowed. "I need you to tell me, Derek."

"Why do you need to know," Derek growled. "It doesn't matter."

"It does!" Stiles threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "If it affects our pack, then I need to know, so I can figure out what to do to avoid it!"

"I don't like when you're upset, or hurt, or – or when anything is wrong with you."

Stiles stared at him like the air got knocked out of him. "They're right."

Derek tensed at that, hunching over a little like he was bracing himself. "Who was right."

"The…" Stiles motioned over to Lydia and Allison. "The girls! They said that I'm your mate. That's what kept me so distracted during breakfast. Because surely that can't be, right. 'Surely, Derek would have told me at literally any point during the past months that we've been friends, that I've been in his pack. There's no way he would have kept something like that from me. Even if he doesn't want me, he knows how important the trust between us is to me, he would have told me the truth,' while I replayed pretty much every single interaction between us since I joined the pack, I kept thinking that. And I guess I'm fucking wrong, huh."

The more he talked, the more bitter and louder his voice grew. He turned away from Derek, a sneer on his face. The cold autumn breeze carried over a scent of misery and Derek's inner wolf whimpered because he knew they were the cause of it.

"I could have been okay with you not wanting me, Derek," Stiles turned to look at him with a devastating look on his face. "You know I can handle rejection. But this… this is about more than you and me. If I'm your mate, I'm the Alpha mate. That… That's really fucking important information regarding our entire pack and I should have known that. You should have told me."

Derek didn't know what to say, or how to say it, not that he got a chance to, because Stiles barreled on. "I deserved to know. You know how weird the past months were for me? I kept cuddling up with my classmates, I fucking nuzzled Jackson at school the other week. I genuinely started to think I was losing it but no. No, I'm the Alpha mate, of course have I been more in tune with the betas. Which also, explains why I keep thinking about them as the betas! Part of me has gotten really fucking worried that I kept mentally excluding myself from them, like, what, was I not seeing myself as pack, what was my problem? But no. No, my problem was that I'm not a beta. I just didn't know it. Because nobody fucking told me."

Stiles was radiating frustration and anger and hurt and all Derek could do was watch and listen quietly, knowing his mate needed to vent. He always talked a lot, especially when he was being emotional. Maybe it'd help him to get it out of his system.

"I would have been fine, Derek," Stiles whispered, and the whispering scared Derek much more than the yelling. "I was in love with Lydia for years and I was fine when she rejected me and got back together with Jackson and we're friends now. I would have been fine if you just told me that you don't love me. We could have led this pack together. As friends. Even if you don't want me."

Suddenly, it felt much colder than it had any right to, and it had nothing to do with the season. The blood in Derek's veins froze as Stiles' words – all of his words – finally fully sank in and context was webbed between them. Stiles was angry because Derek hadn't told him. Stiles… expected rejection. Because of Derek's actions, or rather his inaction, Stiles thought he wasn't wanted.

"Can I… talk now?" Derek asked softly. "Can I explain why I didn't tell you?"

With a sarcastic smile, Stiles made a gesture that indicated 'the floor is all yours'. Derek took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself to talk about his feelings. The feelings he hadn't shared for good reason so far. But that had hurt Stiles, the last person he wanted to hurt, and now he had to fix this somehow, he had to make Stiles stop hurting.

"I want you, Stiles," Derek looked his mate directly in the eyes, wanting for Stiles to see how serious and sincere he was. "I want you more than I ever wanted anything, I want you so much that it scares me, because if I… if I had you, I could lose you again. I would lose you again."

Stiles stared at him in confusion. "That doesn't even make sense. If you don't have me, you can't lose me. Well, great, but you're also not having me, so what's the big difference."

"The difference," Derek growled and ground his teeth together hard. "The difference is that every good thing I ever dare hope to have dies or is otherwise forcibly taken from me, Stiles. P… Paige died. My family died. Laura died. Boyd and Erica were taken and tortured because they were part of my pack. Everyone I love gets hurt because of me. And the thought that someone hurts you, takes you away from me – from the pack, from your dad – all because of me? I can't… I would much rather not have you than lose you for good, Stiles."

In front of him, Stiles crumbled. The anger and hurt melted away to make room for the most heartbroken look Derek had ever seen. Stiles walked up to him, with careful and slow steps, as though he was approaching a cornered animal. Once he stood close enough, he reached both hands out for Derek's face, gently cupping it and leaning closer.

"You big, dumb idiot," Stiles heaved a sigh. "Look at me. Look at me. I'm the human who runs with wolves. I got hunted by a less than sane Alpha. I got tortured by an evil hunter. I regularly get attacked and nearly killed by whatever evil lurks in Beacon Hills. And I'm still standing. You are not getting rid of me that easily. You are not going to lose me that easily. I love you. You and me, we save each other. That's what we do, Derek, and that's what we'll continue doing."

He leaned in, more and more, until Derek could feel the ghost of Stiles' breath against his lips and for once, he didn't hold back. He wrapped his arms around his mate and pulled Stiles into a kiss filled with all the emotions he'd tried to reign in these past months. Stiles practically melted against him, warm and firm and there. Right there, in Derek's arms.

[incorectpercyjackson]

Sally, picking up Percabeth from Camp at the end of Summer: So, how was your break? Percy: We almost got surprise adopted! Sally: What? Annabeth: We almost got kidnapped Sally: Oh, ok Sally: slams breaks YOU WERE WHAT?!