#sycamore…. were you sad ?

[angermango]

i try to warm up and/or fight off burnout by making dumb memes/joke edits for anything (with middling success). this is the PL edition of the latest abominations i concoted in my lab

originals: [1] | [2] | [3 (blank)]

[lab-sycamore]

it is very hard to focus sometimes when he’s consistently brought up in conversation! it’s very hard to talk when all they want to talk about is about him!

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

My baby trees are very droopy at the moment

Im wondering if I should water them more

I put lots of dead leaves and wood in with them and theres at least 2 worms and a grub in the pot cuz I found them while I was digging up the trees and figured they might help the trees acclimate (I have no research to back this up im just assuming that since keeping the dirt from where they were planted originally with them is supposed to help and the worms and grubs were mixed in with that that they might also help)

Maybe also give them some egg shells for compost? Trees like calcium right?

[headspace-hotel]

There, in the sunlit forest on a high ridgeline, was a tree I had never seen before.

I spend a lot of time looking at trees. I know my beech, sourwood, tulip poplar, sassafras and shagbark hickory. Appalachian forests have such a diverse tree community that for those who grew up in or around the ancient mountains, forests in other places feel curiously simple and flat.

Oaks: red, white, black, bur, scarlet, post, overcup, pin, chestnut, willow, chinkapin, and likely a few others I forgot. Shellbark, shagbark and pignut hickories. Sweetgum, serviceberry, hackberry, sycamore, holly, black walnut, white walnut, persimmon, Eastern redcedar, sugar maple, red maple, silver maple, striped maple, boxelder maple, black locust, stewartia, silverbell, Kentucky yellowwood, blackgum, black cherry, cucumber magnolia, umbrella magnolia, big-leaf magnolia, white pine, scrub pine, Eastern hemlock, redbud, flowering dogwood, yellow buckeye, white ash, witch hazel, pawpaw, linden, hornbeam, and I could continue, but y'all would never get free!

And yet, this tree is different.

We gather around the tree as though surrounding the feet of a prophet. Among the couple dozen of us, only a few are much younger than forty. Even one of the younger men, who smiles approvingly and compliments my sharp eye when I identify herbs along the trail, has gray streaking his beard. One older gentleman scales the steep ridge slowly, relying on a cane for support.

The older folks talk to us young folks with enthusiasm. They brighten when we can call plants and trees by name and list their virtues and importance. "You're right! That's Smilax." "Good eye!" "Do you know what this is?—Yes, Eupatorium, that's a pollinator's paradise." "Are you planning to study botany?"

The tree we have come to see is not like the tall and pillar-like oaks that surround us. It is still young, barely the diameter of a fence post. Its bark is gray and forms broad stripes like rivulets of water down smooth rock. Its smooth leaves are long, with thin pointed teeth along their edges. Some of the group carefully examine the bark down to the ground, but the tree is healthy and flourishing, for now.

This tree is among the last of its kind.

The wood of the American Chestnut was once used to craft both cradles and coffins, and thus it was known as the "cradle-to-grave tree." The tree that would hold you in entering this world and in leaving it would also sustain your body throughout your life: each tree produced a hundred pounds of edible nuts every winter, feeding humans and all the other creatures of the mountains. In the Appalachian Mountains, massive chestnut trees formed a third of the overstory of the forest, sometimes growing larger than six feet in diameter.

They are a keystone species, and this is my first time seeing one alive in the wild.

It's a sad story. But I have to tell you so you will understand.

At the turn of the 20th century, the chestnut trees of Appalachia were fundamental to life in this ecosystem, but something sinister had taken hold, accidentally imported from Asia. Cryphonectria parasitica is a pathogenic fungus that infects chestnut trees. It co-evolved with the Chinese chestnut, and therefore the Chinese chestnut is not bothered much by the fungus.

The American chestnut, unlike its Chinese sister, had no resistance whatsoever.

They showed us slides with photos of trees infected with the chestnut blight earlier. It looks like sickly orange insulation foam oozing through the bark of the trees. It looks like that orange powder that comes in boxes of Kraft mac and cheese. It looks wrong. It means death.

The chestnut plague was one of the worst ecological disasters ever to occur in this place—which is saying something. And almost no one is alive who remembers it. By the end of the 1940's, by the time my grandparents were born, approximately three to four billion American chestnut trees were dead.

The Queen of the Forest was functionally extinct. With her, at least seven moth species dependent on her as a host plant were lost forever, and no one knows how much else. She is a keystone species, and when the keystone that holds a structure in place is removed, everything falls.

Appalachia is still falling.

Now, in some places, mostly-dead trees tried to put up new sprouts. It was only a matter of time for those lingering sprouts of life.

But life, however weak, means hope.

I learned that once in a rare while, one of the surviving sprouts got lucky enough to successfully flower and produce a chestnut. And from that seed, a new tree could be grown. People searched for the still-living sprouts and gathered what few chestnuts could be produced, and began growing and breeding the trees.

Some people tried hybridizing American and Chinese chestnuts and then crossing the hybrids to produce purer American strains that might have some resistance to the disease. They did this for decades.

And yet, it wasn't enough. The hybrid trees were stronger, but not strong enough.

Extinction is inevitable. It's natural. There have been at least five mass extinctions in Earth's history, and the sixth is coming fast. Many people accepted that the American chestnut was gone forever. There had been an intensive breeding program, summoning all the natural forces of evolution to produce a tree that could survive the plague, and it wasn't enough.

This has happened to more species than can possibly be counted or mourned. And every species is forced to accept this reality.

Except one.

We are a difficult motherfucker of a species, aren't we? If every letter of the genome's book of life spelled doom for the Queen of the Forest, then we would write a new ending ourselves. Research teams worked to extract a gene from wheat and implant it in the American chestnut, in hopes of creating an American chestnut tree that could survive.

This project led to the Darling 58, the world's first genetically modified organism to be created for the purpose of release into the wild.

The Darling 58 chestnut is not immune, the presenters warned us. It does become infected with the blight. And some trees die. But some live.

And life means hope.

In isolated areas, some surviving American Chestnut trees have been discovered, most of them still very young. The researchers hope it is possible that some of these trees may have been spared not because of pure luck, but because they carry something in their genes that slows the blight in doing its deadly work, and that possibly this small bit of innate resistance can be shaped and combined with other efforts to create a tree that can live to grow old.

This long, desperate, multi-decade quest is what has brought us here. The tree before me is one such tree: a rare survivor. In this clearing, a number of other baby chestnut trees have been planted by human hands. They are hybrids of the Darling 58 and the best of the best Chinese/American hybrids. The little trees are as prepared for the blight as we can possibly make them at this time. It is still very possible that I will watch them die. Almost certainly, I will watch this tree die, the one that shades us with her young, stately limbs.

Some of the people standing around me are in their 70's or 80's, and yet, they have no memory of a world where the Queen of the Forest was at her full majesty. The oldest remember the haunting shapes of the colossal dead trees looming as if in silent judgment.

I am shaken by this realization. They will not live to see the baby trees grow old. The people who began the effort to save the American chestnut devoted decades of their lives to these little trees, knowing all the while they likely never would see them grow tall. Knowing they would not see the work finished. Knowing they wouldn't be able to be there to finish it. Knowing they wouldn't be certain if it could be finished.

When the work began, the technology to complete it did not exist. In the first decades after the great old trees were dead, genetic engineering was a fantasy.

But those that came before me had to imagine that there was some hope of a future. Hope set the foundation. Now that little spark of hope is a fragile flame, and the torch is being passed to the next generation.

When a keystone is removed, everything suffers. What happens when a keystone is put back into place? The caretakers of the American chestnut hope that when the Queen is restored, all of Appalachia will become more resilient and able to adapt to climate change.

Not only that, but this experiment in changing the course of evolution is teaching us lessons and skills that may be able to help us save other species.

It's just one tree—but it's never just one tree. It's a bear successfully raising cubs, chestnut bread being served at a Cherokee festival, carbon being removed from the atmosphere and returned to the Earth, a wealth of nectar being produced for pollinators, scientific insights into how to save a species from a deadly pathogen, a baby cradle being shaped in the skilled hands of an Appalachian crafter. It's everything.

Despair is individual; hope is an ecosystem. Despair is a wall that shuts out everything; hope is seeing through a crack in that wall and catching a glimpse of a single tree, and devoting your life to chiseling through the wall towards that tree, even if you know you will never reach it yourself.

An old man points to a shaft of light through the darkness we are both in, toward a crack in the wall. "Do you see it too?" he says. I look, and on the other side I see a young forest full of sunlight, with limber, pole-size chestnut trees growing toward the canopy among the old oaks and hickories. The chestnut trees are in bloom with fuzzy spikes of creamy white, and bumblebees heavy with pollen move among them. I tell the man what I see, and he smiles.

"When I was your age, that crack was so narrow, all I could see was a single little sapling on the forest floor," he says. "I've been chipping away at it all my life. Maybe your generation will be the one to finally reach the other side."

Hope is a great work that takes a lifetime. It is the hardest thing we are asked to do, and the most essential.

I am trying to show you a glimpse of the other side. Do you see it too?

[p0orbaby]

Spring

summary: the biggest challenge you and Alexia have had to face

warnings: child loss, grief

a/n: this is pretty fucking sad so I’m sorry in advance

word count: 2.4k

-

It was written in the stars, you thought.

Aligned with the season of fresh starts and soft breezes. Sunny evenings and cups of tea sipped on the back porch as the birds sing their morning chorus.

Aurelia, golden like the sun. Silvio, strong and steady.

Either would be fine. Either would be perfect. As long as they had Alexia’s eyes and her determination to make the world a better place, you’d be happy.

The days leading up to the birth were a blur of last-minute tasks and impatient preparations. Nights were spent lying in bed, imagining the future. First steps in the garden, lazy Sunday mornings filled with laughter, and the simple joy of watching your child grow. Each conversation was a step further into the dream you both held dear for so long.

One evening, as the sky blazed with the colors of sunset, you and Alexia sat together outside. Garden chairs close and knees touching. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sounds of the neighborhood settling into the evening. You felt the world around you slowing down, relaxing.

As though the earth was taking a break just for the two of you.

One last moment of peace.

-

It was that night that there was a shift.

One you’d been waiting for for nine months.

You woke with a start, a sharp pain cutting through the haze of sleep. Alexia was beside you in an instant, her eyes wide with concern and excitement both. The contractions had begun, each one marking the imminent arrival of your baby. The room seemed to hum with anticipation as the two of you prepared to leave for the hospital.

The hospital bag finally picked up from its spot by the front door.

The drive was surreal, the world outside passing in a blur. Alexia held your hand, her grip reassuring as she whispered calming words to quell your nerves. The hospital loomed ahead, a beacon of hope and anxiety. Inside, the staff moved with practiced efficiency, guiding you through the steps with gentle encouragement.

Hours stretched into a timeless void, filled with the ebb and flow of labor. The pain was intense, but Alexia’s presence grounded you. Her voice, her touch, her unwavering support carried you through the toughest moments. The delivery room fizzed with activity, the air thick with expectation.

And then, the moment arrived. The baby’s first cries filled the room, a sound so pure and full of life that it brought tears to your eyes. The nurse placed your baby in your arms, and you looked down at the tiny, perfect face. Alexia leaned over, her green eyes shining with tears you wished to bottle for eternity.

A miracle. A door is yet to be opened and here lies new life.

Strong and steady. The sycamore trees in the garden will keep watch.

For a brief, fleeting moment, the world was perfect. Your hearts swelled with joy, your minds filled with visions of a future that seemed bright and boundless and exciting. The exhaustion, the pain, all of it was worth it for this precious new life cradled in your arms.

The world stopped turning.

Your baby’s cries grew weaker, then stopped altogether. The nurse’s smiles faded as one gently took the baby from your arms. The room, once filled with warmth and life, grew cold and sterile. You watched in stunned silence as doctors and nurses rushed in, their movements urgent and efficient and practiced, you realised.

Alexia’s grip on your hand tightened painfully, her eyes wide with fear. No one answered your unspoken questions, the minutes stretching into forever, the silence broken only by the muffled sounds of medical equipment and hushed whispers. You felt a hollowness growing in your chest, a cold, creeping dread that settled deep in your tired bones.

Finally, a doctor turned to you, his face a mask of professional sorrow. He spoke softly, his words a death knell. The world shattered around you. Alexia’s sobs echoed in the emptiness, a sound of pure, unfiltered grief. And though you felt yourself slipping, it was those sounds, the raw stripped back emotion she kept hidden from eyes that weren’t yours that broke you completely.

Alexia Putellas has shown the world she is human.

The ground beneath you gave way to a chasm of despair. Your baby, your beautiful, perfect baby with your nose and your wife’s hair, was gone.

-

“It’s like you don’t even care!” Alexia’s voice is harsh, cutting through the oppressive silence that has settled over the house.

You look up, startled and defensive from where you’re sitting on the sofa. “What are you talking about? How can you even say that?”

Alexia’s face is flushed with anger, something you don’t see off the pitch often. “You sit there every day, doing nothing. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me. It’s like I’m living with a fucking shell of a person”

“I’m trying to cope, Alexia” you snap back. “We both are. Just because I’m not falling apart at the seams doesn’t mean I don’t care”

“Falling apart?” Alexia’s eyes widen, her voice rising. “You think this is falling apart? Our baby died, our son, and you’re acting like it’s just something we can just move on from!”

This all started because she caught you putting his clothes into boxes.

Caught is the wrong word. You weren’t hiding from her. But the day after everything happened she just sat in the rocking chair you picked out together and cried. Her nose buried in an unworn onesie. The label still attached.

You didn’t want that room to become a shrine to a boy you held only once.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, your voice shaking with fractured fury. “Don’t you dare tell me how to grieve. Everyone deals with things differently”

“And what, ignoring it is your way?” Your wife’s words are like daggers, each one hitting its mark. She always was a perfectionist. “Because that’s what you’re doing. You’re pretending everything’s fine when it’s not”

“You think I’m pretending?” you shout, finally standing up. “Do you think I don’t feel it every second of every day? The emptiness, the loss? It’s killing me too!”

“Then why don’t you show it?” she screams back, tears streaming down her face. “Why don’t you let me in? We’re supposed to be in this together, but you’ve shut me out completely”

“You don’t understand,” you mutter, turning away, unable to face her pain on top of your own.

The sycamores are casting shadows over the grass. How dare the sun shine so brightly.

“What don’t I understand?” Alexia demands, stepping closer, her voice trembling with desperation. “What do I not understand about losing our boy?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I can’t talk about it because it makes it real. Talking about it means accepting it, and I’m not ready to do that”

Her expression softens for a moment, as if she forgot she is supposed to be angry with you, then hardens again. “So what, you just shut me out? You leave me to deal with this alone because you’re too scared to face it?”

“It’s not that simple,” you reply, your voice barely audible to your own ears. “I’m doing the best I can”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough,” she shoots back, her voice breaking. “We’re falling apart, and you don’t even care”

“Don’t say that,” you plead, her words cutting deeper than you can bear.

“Then show me,” Alexia says, her voice softer but no less in pain. “Show me that you care, that you still want this, us”

You look at her, your heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know how”

-

The days after the argument with your wife feel like the twilight zone. Your home, once a sanctuary, now feels more like a prison, each room echoing with the whispers of what could have been. Friends and family, well-meaning and kind, flock to your side, but their presence often brings more discomfort than relief.

Salt in the wounds.

You're sitting on the couch, a half-drunk cup of tea cooling in your hands, as Alexia’s mother sits across from you. Her eyes are filled with sympathy you don’t want, her voice too gentle. "I can’t imagine what you’re going through," she says, her words meticulously planned out. "But we’re here for you, both of you”

You nod, forcing a smile. "Thank you," you reply, though the words feel empty. You appreciate their concern, but it does very little to fill the hollow ache inside you.

Eli reaches out, placing a hand on yours. "If there’s anything you need, anything at all..."

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings, and soon the house is filled with more people offering condolences, bringing food, and trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Teammates with lopsided smiles. Friends with tears and hugs and sticky words. Nothing helps these days, not even your wife.

None of it seems to work.

You move through the crowd like a scent on a breeze, your smiles and nods automatic, your mind elsewhere and nowhere all at once.

In the kitchen, you find Alexia talking to her sister. The sight of them together, their heads bent in quiet conversation, brings a fresh wave of sorrow. You miss her, miss the connection you once shared. Now, even in the same room, she feels like she’s miles apart.

"How are you holding up?" Alba asks as you join them, her eyes wet.

Should you be crying more?

"I’m managing," you say, the lie slipping out effortlessly. It’s easier than trying to explain the turmoil growing inside your chest. Your mind.

Alexia glances at you, her eyes searching your face. "We’re taking it one day at a time," she adds, her voice strained, composed. You can tell she’s just about holding it together for your guests.

The support from friends and family is constant, yet it feels like a barrier rather than a bridge. They don’t understand the depth of your grief, can’t comprehend the void that has opened up inside you. Their attempts to comfort you only highlight the isolation you feel.

You think Alexia feels abandoned. She reaches for you every time you cross paths in the house. She hates that you pull away, skin prickling at the thought of being held. You hate that you crave her touch just as much but can’t bring yourself to seek it out.

How can one feel so alone when they are surrounded by so many? The same way you’re can be lost at sea and getting swallowed by waves that won’t leave you to die in peace.

-

One afternoon, when the house has finally quieted down, you find yourself standing in a patch of sun in the garden. The warmth on your skin felt almost foreign, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled in your heart. The sycamore trees stood tall and proud, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze—a painful reminder that not everything gets the chance to grow.

As you stand there, lost in thought, you hear the door open behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you sense Alexia’s presence like a shadow that had become a part of you. She walks up beside you, her steps hesitant and heavy.

"They mean well," she says softly, coming to stand next to you.

"I know," you reply, your voice void of anything but impatience to finish the conversation. "But it doesn’t help”

Alexia sighs, her hand reaching for yours. "We’re surrounded by people, but I’ve never felt so alone”

You look at her, the weight of her words mirroring your own feelings. "Me too," you admit, pulling your hand away.

For a moment, the connection between you feels almost tangible. But the pain is still there, a barrier neither of you knew how to breach. The love that had once been your refuge now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by loss and grief.

-

Nights are the hardest. The quiet hours stretch to the milky way and back, filled with the echoes of dreams that would never be. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of each day pressing down on you. Alexia’s presence beside you was both a comfort and a reminder of how far apart you have drifted.

Her snores keep you awake.

You slip out of bed and wander through the house. The nursery door stands ajar, a silent sentinel to your shattered life. You step inside, the faint scent of baby powder and fresh paint lingering in the air.

The cot stands in the corner, empty and pristine, a cruel reminder of what you had lost. You reach out, your fingers grazing the soft fabric of the blanket, and the tears you’d held back for so long finally break free.

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Shadows dance on the walls, a silent audience to your sorrow. The room feels both alive and desolate, filled with the unspoken dreams and hopes you had cherished.

Their favourite colour will never be green.

You sink to the floor, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The silence is deafening, filled with the murmurs of laughter that will never be heard, the soft coos that will never come.

The final cry that haunts your mind.

You wonder how the world can continue to turn, how the universe can remain unchanged, while your life has been irreparably altered.

-

Spring is in full bloom, the world outside your window bursting with life and color. The garden is a riot of flowers, vibrant reds, yellows, and purples dancing in the gentle breeze. Birds sing their songs, and the air is filled with the sweet scent of blossoms. It is as if nature itself was mocking your grief, the beauty and renewal of the season a sharp contrast to the desolation you feel inside.

You stand at the window, watching as a pair of robins build a nest in the sycamore tree. Their industriousness, their instinctive drive to create and nurture new life, is a painful reminder of what you have lost.

Strong and steady, that’s what you need to be.

Though you're a leaf in the wind, ready to be carried away.

[kuruna]

All my life, I've felt as though / I'm inside a beautiful memory / replaying / with the sound turned down low.

Pokemon XY week day 3: Legacy

(You can never return to the person you once were ... but did that person ever truly exist to begin with?)

Heehee... AZ's pose in the mosaic is reference to this Xanthos comic >:3c additionally, the flowers on the outer border are marigolds, which are Xan's theme flower. Marigolds represent both affection and jealousy, so they fit Xan perfectly.

I think for AZ, part of the struggle of being king was the way he was perceived. He was a king, a messiah, he made things better for everyone! They did not see him for who he truly was... which is a sad, lonely guy with anger issues.

Of course, it upset AZ when his own younger brother seemed to buy into this idealized image too ... But AZ didn't realize at the time that for Xan, such perceptions came from a place of low self esteem. "You're so much better than I could ever be."

I think even now, AZ struggles with the Idealized Version of himself vs. his reality, especially when it comes to how he is remembered in history. You can see the sort of different reactions to him as a historical figure in the ways he's treated by Lysandre and Sycamore ^.^

Anyways. I got a little carried away I really just wanted to talk about how this is secretly an AZ and Xan drawing 😭 but that's okay 🙏🏾

[strniohoeee]

matt and reader are bffs secretely in love and as usual they go on car rides in LA and they stop on a hill bc reader wants him to take photos of her since it's golden hour and he just falls more in love seeing how beautiful she is and he can't help himself when he surprises her by kissing her and then they go home and have sweet loving sex and it's also her first time doing it

Inamorata

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Matt and the reader head to a hilltop that overlooks LA. Suddenly words and looks are exchanged, and some events take place that weren’t on their agenda🌅

Warnings⚠️: Smutttt, it’s cutesy though.🥺 I actually really liked writing this one 🤭

Song for the imagine: Like You’ll Never See Me Again-Alicia Keys

⚠️This is an 18+imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Everytime you kiss me

Kiss me like you’ll never see me again

Everytime you touch me

Touch me like this is the last time

Promise that you’ll love me

Love me like you’ll never see me again

“What do you mean?” I asked Matt looking over at him

“I just mean that it’s dumb for you to try and get the attention of a guy who clearly doesn’t care for you, come on Y/N he’s made it very clear he doesn’t want anything to do with you” Matt says merging onto the freeway

“Wow Matt” I said jaw falling slack as I glare at him

“Listen, I'm not trying to be mean at all. You are giving all your energy to a guy who just wants to use you and then discard you” he said looking over at me

“Use me?” I asked confused

“He just wants sex, and I know you want a relationship with the kid. He clearly doesn’t at all. I mean look at the way he acts when you turn down his advances. He doesn’t care about your feelings” he replied

“Oh” was all I could say

“I mean not that it’s any of my business, but hey if you just want casual sex then go for it, but don’t expect him to turn around and buy you flowers and offer you the world; because he won’t” be said back

“I mean I don’t just want a fuck buddy I want a relationship, but how do you know this anyways?” I asked him

“Well for one I’m a guy, and I’m not like that at all, but I’ve been friends with guys who are like that. And two I’ve been in that predicament myself. Girls who just want sex and then leave me stranded. Not the biggest fan of that” he said to me

“I guess you’re right, thank you Matt for always listening to my stupid boy problems and helping me see how shitty these guys are” I said to him turning my head to the right and looking out the window

“Of course Y/N I’m always here for you” he said to me

I looked over and smiled at him before leaning my head against the window as I looked out the window again.

“I just wish I could find that special someone. I’m always let down” I said shutting my eyes

Matt looked over at the girl, giving her a once over with a sad look in his eyes. Oh how badly he wanted her to look at him, no! Not look at him, but to see him.

“Yeah I get you, you never know he might be a lot closer than you think” Matt replied

“I sure hope so” I replied

Matt kept driving, and I was wondering where we were going because we never spoke of a destination.

“Hey where are we headed to?” I asked looking over at Matt

“I’m thinking of that hilltop on Sycamore grove. It’s beautiful at this time of day. It would make for some nice pictures, and some good talks” he said chuckling a bit

“Ohh I’ve never been there, but it looks so gorgeous I can’t wait” I said smiling at him

We kept driving for another 20 minutes before we pulled up to the hilltop. Not a single care in sight, and the view was amazing.

It overlooked a small part of LA, and with the sun slowly getting ready to set it casted a beautiful golden glow against the trees and the ground. The temperature was just right too. Not too cold and not too hot, just perfect.

“Holy shit this is beautiful” I said shutting the car door

“Isn’t it. It could make a grown man cry” he said laughing

“I’m sure it could” I said laughing back

“Let’s take some pictures” Matt offered

“I’d like that” I replied

Matt and I had taken pictures of the scenery, and some still shots of each other. Man I never realized how blue his eyes were until the sun hit them and made them sparkle.

I took the picture of him and slowly slid the camera down just staring at Matt. I mean I’ve seen Matt hundreds of times before, but I’m just now seeing him. And it made my heart flutter…..

“Is something wrong?” He asked getting confused

“Oh no sorry, I just never realized how blue your eyes were” I said smiling at him

“Really?” He said chuckling

“I mean when the sun hits them they really light up. It’s awesome actually” I said smiling at him

We took some more pictures of each other, and Matt actually took a lot of off guards of me that I hated, but he swore they looked amazing.

The sun was setting a bit more now, and Matt and I decided to sit at the edge of the hilltop. A bit scary, but I tried to face my fear of heights

“So talk to me Matt” I said bumping his shoulder with mine

“I’ve been talking to you” he said furrowing his brows

“No, tell me more. I feel like you’re so reserved now a days” I replied

“Reserved?” He said laughing a bit

“I don’t know, you just are super quiet. I get like a few good sentences out of you, and then just one word answers what’s on your mind?” I said to him

“I mean nothing really. I’m just in my own head a lot of the times” he replied

“Care to share?” I asked

“Ehh it’s nothing important” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Well that’s alright, I’m all ears though” I said nodding at him

A few minutes went by or silence. Just listening to the breeze ruffle through the trees as we watched the busy LA traffic beneath us. I could get used to this, sitting in silence with Matt and watching a sunset. It was calming

“That breeze feels so good” I said out loud shutting my eyes as the wind brushed through my hair

“It does doesn’t it” he responded

“I love when I get hit with a breeze because everything just stops for a moment and that’s all you feel” I said taking a breath in

“And all you can hear is your heartbeat” he said

“Yeah…..it makes you want to cry it feels so good” I replied looking over at him

“Do you ever cry?” Matt randomly blurted out causing me to look over at him

“Sometimes, do you?” I said in a whisper looking over at the sunset

“Yeah” he said in a soft whisper

“What do you cry about?” I asked giving him a soft smile

“Shit…I cry so much sometimes I feel like I’m gonna turn into drops”he replied looking down and swallowing thickly (IFYKYK)

“I get that, tell me more” I said in a whisper

Matt looked over at me with glossy eyes and licked his lips

“I just cry about it all. Where I’m at right now, who I’m surrounded with. All the troubles I went through to get to where I’m at. It makes me emotional” he said blinking his tears away

“Wow Matt, that was beautiful” I said wiping his eye with my thumb as he looked at me

“I cry about the beauty of life” he said chuckling

“That was embarrassing right” he said shaking his head

“No, it wasn’t. I understand you Matt. I see you” I replied looking into his eyes

Suddenly Matt leaned into me, connecting our lips. At first I was shocked. I mean never in a million years did I think this is where we would end up. Kissing on a hilltop, but I loved it. I kissed back, my hand caressing his cheek.

Our lips connect like two puzzle pieces that have been lost. I pulled away, breathing heavy as I looked into Matt’s eyes

“I’m sorry” he said blinking

“Don’t be Matt, I enjoyed it” I said before leaning in and picking his lips again

“The suns set, I think we should head back” he said

“Yeah” I said nodding my head

Math helped me off the ground and we got back in the car. A 30 minute drive filled with music, talking and the occasional silence. Every moment playing in my head from our previous interaction.

Truly fighting with my mind if it was Matt all along, and I’ve just been ignoring these feelings. My mind started to race with many thoughts.

We pulled up to the house and noticed that Nick and Chris were gone. This made me a bit anxious as to where things could lead to, but Matt wasn’t like that, so I felt better.

We headed to his room and just sat on his bed talking. This slight bit of awkwardness in the air that we were north desperately trying to ignore.

“I ummm I’ve been meaning to tell you how I feel, but I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way” Matt said looking over at me

“It never occurred to me that I could like you, but when you kissed me everything just felt complete. Like you were my missing piece all along” I replied back to him

Matt leaned over and kissed me again, soon becoming a heated make out session. Something I wasn’t prepared for, but was giving it my all. Our teeth clashing together as our tongues fought for dominance. It was such a heated and needy kiss, and it made my knees weak

He leaned us back as he was now hovering over me, his right hand running up the side of my left thigh. As his kisses went from my jawline to my neck as I let out little whimpers.

His right hand slowly kneading my hip bone. When suddenly Pulled away…this was getting too much for me

“Umm wait wait” I said pulling back

“I’m sorry I’m sorry” he said pulling back

“No it’s okay” I said shaking my head

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I wasn’t trying to force sex on you. I was just simply wanting to kiss you” he said giving me a once over

“No it’s okay Matt. I just ummm I’ve never done this before” I said avoiding eye contact

“What making out?” He said giggling

“Umm no like having sex or taking part in any sexual like acts other than kissing” I said to him

“Oh that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?” He said smiling

“Okay” I whispered out

“But I do want to keep kissing you” I blurted out biting my lip

Matt smirked at me, and leaned back down reconnecting our lips. His kisses moved to my neck and back up to my lips. I know I said I only wanted to kiss him, but my body was burning with desire for him.

My lower stomach flips every time he lays a kiss on my neck, and my core throbbing and dripping for him. God why was he having such an effect on me.

“Matt” I said in a whisper

“Yes?” He replied back

“What if, what if I want to do more?” I asked looking into his eyes

“Then we can do more, but don’t feel pressured, okay? I can wait” he said running his hand through my hair

“You can wait, but I can’t….I need you like badly” I said breathing heavily

“Yeah okay okay” he said in a whisper

Matt had kissed down to my neck. Leaving light kisses that were making me burn up inside.

He leaned back and pulled his shirt off, so I pulled mine off as well.

“Can I…can I take my bra off?” I asked Matt

“Baby you can do whatever you want” Hs said licking his lips

I started to blush as I removed my bra . Never allowing a man to see me this way causing me to get a little shy

“Don’t get shy on me pretty girl” he said giving me a smile

Matt had started to kiss my neck, and slowly went down to my breast. Massaging both breasts before taking one into his mouth.

“Oh Matt” I said in a whisper as my eyes fluttered shut

He then went down to the valley of my breast, and started to kiss leaving sloppy kisses on my stomach. I was aching for his touch.

“Can I take your pants off?” He asked, and I nodded

He started to take my pants off as I lifted up a little for him to get them fully off.

He looked at me with a small smile before sliding his jeans off as well. Tossing them somewhere behind him.

Matt came down to lay next to me kissing my cheek.

“Okay baby. I have to stretch you out” he said. I turned my head towards him and nodded

Slowly he trailed his hand down to my underwear. Slightly dipping his hand in to massage my pelvic area before completely sticking his hand down to my aching cunt

“Can you open your legs a bit more?” He asked, looking up at me. I nodded and opened my legs more

“Good girl” he said, kissing me, and then he slid his hand all the way down coating his fingers in my arousal before bringing them back up to massage my clit

I just gasped and opened my mouth as I looked down at Matt’s hand. My own hands fistinf the sheets beneath me.

“Feeling okay?” He asked

“I feel so good Matt” I told him licking my now dry lips

“Has anyone ever done this to you?” He asked in a whisper his blue eyes piercing into the side of my face as I continued to stare down at his hand in my panties

“No….only myself” I said in a gasp licking my lips again

Math started to rub my clit in circular motions. Allowing me to squirm and moan at this foreign feeling.

“Okay baby this may hurt” he said before sinking his middle finger into my entrance.

This was a burning stretch I’ve never felt before, causing my eyes to shut and my brows to furrow

“Ow Matt” I said finally opening my eyes

“Too much? I can stop” he said reading my face

“No no keep going” I told him, and so he did. He slowly started to rock his fingers in and out curving them up to hit my G spot

“Oh fuck” I moaned out

“That feels so fucking good” I said as he started to rub my clit with his thumb

All that could be heard was the wet sounds of my cunt taking his finger and my moans and heaving breathing.

“Oh Matt….I've never felt something like this” I told him as my mouth fell open

“Does it feel good?” He asked

“So fucking good” I said whispering the last part

“Alright my love, I think you’re all stretched out for me” he said removing his fingers from me

“Okay” I let out in a careless whisper

Matt removed his boxers allowing his cock to spring up. My eyes immediately lit up. God he was hung, and I was burning with desire

“This will hurt, so I’m going to go slow, and if it’s too much I’ll stop” he said

“Okay baby” I whispered to him

Matt had both arms on either side of my head and was looking into my eyes

“Ready?” He asked one more time

“Yes Matt I’m ready” I told him

Matt lined himself up with my entrance and slowly slid in. My mouth dropped as my eyes screwed shut. I thought his finger was painful….this was hurting like hell

“Fuck Matt that hurts” I said gripping his left arm with my right hand

“Want me to stop?” He asked

“No keep going…..just slower” I told him

He slowly started to insert himself into me further. He soon bottomed out, and the feeling of his dick inside me made my stomach churn. He was made for me.

“So perfect,” he said, moving my hair out of my face. Matt was allowing me to relax around him and get used to the stretch before moving.

“You can move” I told him, and so he did.

Slowly he rocked his hips back and forth allowing the burning stretch to subside.

He was letting out little moans and grunts that were making me so wet.

“Fuck Matt you sound so hot” I moaned out gripping the back of his head

Slowly Matt started to pick up his pace. Sliding in and out of me in such a delicious way

“Fuck Matt you can go a little faster” I told him

Matt started to thrust into me a little faster and I was completely losing my mind. Never in my life did I think sex with a man would feel this good, but Matt wasn’t just any man; so it made sense

“Matt this feels so good” I said moaning out as my toes curled

“You feel so fucking good around me” he said moaning the last part

Matt leaned down more allowing our chests to touch. This intimate action made my walls clench around him. I never wanted this moment to end.

Matt continued to thrust into me, becoming a sweaty and groaning mess above me. Pulling him down more to leave kisses on his neck as he groaned into my ear.

He slowly snaked his hand down to my clit, and began to rub. My body convulsing against him

“OH MY GOD” I moaned out at the intense sensation I was feeling

“You okay doll?” He asked looking at me

“FUCK YES keep going. Fuck Matt I think I’m going to cum” I told him as I started to clench on his cock causing him to moan

Matt was fucking into me at a good pace, his thumb rubbing my clit harder as he chased his own orgasm.

“Matt Matt Matt” I said scratching his back and clenching down on him harder

“Come on baby! You got this” he said rubbing his thumb faster

“I’m going to cum. Fuck fuck fuck” I said shutting my eyes and throwing my head back even more

“Come on. Come on give it to me” he said into my ear

“FUCKKKKK MATTT” I screamed out as I started to convulse and tremble. My orgasm completely washing over me. My vision clouded with flashes of colors, my hearing fading in and out, my thighs shaking as my back lifted off the bed.

I locked eyes with Matt as I came down from my high, my brows furrowed and my mouth hung open.

Matt pulled out of me and he started to pump his cock. Rolling his neck as he let out little moans and pants

“Fuck I’m gonna cum” he said kissing my lips

He pulled away and his lower abdomen started to contract as his mouth fell and his brows furrowed. He looked into my eyes as he came all over his hand and my lower stomach. Slowly coming down from his high and rolling onto his back next to me

“Matt that was amazing” I said looking over at him

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself pretty girl” he said looking over at me

“You were so gentle with me I appreciate it, and you allowed me to feel pleasure” I said rolling over to my side and kissing him on the cheek

“I’m all about giving. Plus watching you cum on my cock will forever be engraved in my mind. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” he said biting his lip

“Thank you Matt” I said laying a kiss on his lips

Matt ran a bubble bath for us, and we sat in the warm water washing each other as we laughed and talked about the events that had just taken place.

Who would’ve thought Matt and I were meant for each other.

I was his Inamorata.

The End

Alrightttt I’ve been MIA FOR DAYSSSS, and I’m sorry I just had no motivation. However I hope you enjoyed this story and especially hope the person who requested it enjoyed it! 🤭 LOVE YOU GUYSSS🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[uchispeach]

Sycamore Tree (Ch.5)

Dark! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: violence, mention of injuries, obsessive and possessive behavior, manhandling, manipulation, choking, coercion, dubious consent, SMUT (sexual content)….

This fic will contain dark content: such as dub-con/ non-con and violence. You have been warned.

“What were they wearing?…No, no, forget about the clothes; how tall they were?” JJ frantically tapped his head, hoping a face would pop out in his brain; someone he could focus his rage on. “My head was buried in the sand the whole time.” Pope’s voice showed his deep exasperation.

There was a suffocating tension isolated in the four walls of The Château’s guest room. JJ’s anxiousness, Pope’s pain and Sarah’s uncalled presence made a dreadful combination. “Then…what did the fuckers smell like, huh?” The rebellious blond gripped the mattress’ edges as he breathed onto Pope’s bandaged face. “Couldn’t sniff them with my broken nose.” He coughed while grabbing his abdomen in a hurt gesture.

“Jayj” Kiara was the first to step up, abandoning her seat next to you. “Let him rest” Your sister pulled the blond by his shoulder in an attempt to give the injured boy some space. “This is bullshit…masked bastards beating the shit out of the calmest person in the whole island.” JJ backed away from where Pope’s bruised body rested. “That’s a Kook move” His pale finger pointed at his other friend.

John B crossed his arms in a disapproving look. “It’s not time for plotting.” You sighed while watching the erratic boy being escorted out of the room. “C’mon John” The complaints were muffled by the door closing, leaving you, Kie and Sarah squished on the old sofa.

“I’ll go make some ginger tea…it helps with the inflammation.” The Kook girl smiled empathetically while quickly laying her fingertips on Pope’s leg. The last mentioned nodded with disinterest.

The brunette next to you sighed, “and I’ll go grab the missing medication.” The car keys jingled as the last person exited the room. Almost automatically, your legs moved to position themselves by the bed. Your hands shifted as well, transferring heat to your friend’s cold ones as you delicately wrapped your small fingers around his.

Your gaze lifted up with shyness, and your eyes immediately regretted it as the centimeters of bruised skin and bloodied gauzes reminded you of the doctor’s veredict: two broken ribs, a broken nose, a black eye and a bloated knee. A chilling sensation toured your whole body, causing you to grimace in uncomfortableness.

An overwhelming sadness invaded you. And you couldn’t hold it together when you saw Pope’s tired gaze. Salty tear after salty tear entered your mouth as your sobs echoed across the four walls. “Angel, don’t cry.” His weak hand squeezed yours and you couldn’t help but weep even more at the shown worry.

(…)

You should be asleep by now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay on the beat up mattress.

Perhaps, John B should have allowed you to stay up with them, accompanying Pope on his dreadful night. But you were quickly sent to what used to be Big John’s room, all in hopes of getting well deserved rest -still, all you had managed to do was walk around in circles-.

The chilling breeze penetrated your exposed skin and the oversized shirt you wore as pajamas did little to prevent it. Your naked steps made the floor creak when you tried to reach the cause of your discomfort. The window was stubborn, refusing to nudge.

You were still struggling when the rustling of the wind was disturbed by a louder sound. The grass was crushed under what seemed to sound like heavy feet on the ground and the occasional bumping against the yard’s multiple garbage occasioned you to stay alert.

The strenuous metal pieces that laid on John B’s property seemed to suffer the clumsy presence of an intruder, clattering in no particular order. “Hello” You were brave enough to stick your head out, immediately regretting your choice as the cold air hit your warm cheeks.

The moon’s light was the only thing shining, allowing you to discern a big shadow moving right in front of you. You were about to back down when a pair of strong hands reached out the darkness to grab you.

Long fingers locked around your jaw, gripping it hard while burying their tips on your sensitive skin. The pain was immediate, making you squirm on the stranger’s hold. “No!” You squealed; and as soon as the short word was out of your throat, a warm breath invaded your senses, followed by another palm.

This time your nose and mouth were squished under the ruthless hand. Still, the metallic smell of silver rings was able to leak into your nostrils. Your eyes closed, submerging deeper into the sensation of warmth coming from the burly trespasser.

“Don’t make a noise.” Suddenly, you saw it clear, a pair of dark blue eyes decorating a sharp face; strands of blond hair sticking to his forehead’s sweat and flexed muscles stretching his polo shirt to the maximum capacity. “Rafe” Your sweet voice was choked down by the heavy weight of his fingers. “Let me in.” It didn’t sound like an ask, and it was confirmed by the way he pushed you back by the chin, forcing you to take a few steps back.

Your gasp was overshadowed by the wood croaking under the blond’s movement. Sloppy limbs climbing over the window and finally falling onto the cool floor. Your knees ended up by his side, frail arms extending to meet his hard back.

“What happened?” Your brows furrowed at the worrying sight: The Cameron boy struggling to stay steady, losing control of his own body as his gaze lost itself on the dirtiness of the tiles. “You’re hurt.” You commented on his bruised knuckles. Still, no reply.

Your neck moved to the side, looking for an explanation in Rafe's eyes. A deep groan was all you got from him as he stood up aggressively.

You flinched when he supported himself on you to stand straight, stumbling upon his own feet as you threw his arm over your smaller shoulders. “You don’t fucking understand.” He pronounced with a tense jaw, just as coarse as his need to crush himself against your side.

You felt deeply suffocated by the pressure he applied on your nape and ribs with his body. “Slow” Your tone was soft, helping him make his way onto the bed.

With an actual surface to rest, he applied less force to his grip, allowing you to sit right next to him.

Comforting fingertips caressed his cheek as you guided his attention to the concerned look on your features. He pierced into your being, troubled stare making you shriek slightly, “you shouldn’t have drove all the way here in this state.” Alcohol and tobacco in the air, contaminating his signature cologne. “You force my hand.” It was more like a grunt than an actual sentence.

You found his bloodied skin once again, making you reach out for the small cuts. He noticed the anxiety exuding through your pores. “Got into a fight with- with a prick.” His tongue doubted at the last part. “Everyone thinks I’m a fucking joke.” His free hand wrapped around your slender wrist, applying an unnecessary strength to it.

Air got stuck in your throat at the threat of a snapped joint. “Nor your dad or anyone else deserves to make you feel this way.” You paused to get closer, your naked thighs stroking his, “…stop being so hard on yourself.” Honeyed whispers traveling all the way to his buzzing ears.

His breathing pace became a mess, signs of the turmoil growing in his mind. Your mouth opened in hopes of initiating a conversation, and hopefully ending it with a successful intervention; but before a single syllable was pronounced, the Cameron boy was already punching on you.

Fingers securing your head by tugging on your silky hair, mouth moving hungrily on yours as your waist was gripped harshly by ringed fingers. You couldn’t keep up with his consuming lust, gasping for air as soon as he allowed you a break.

A streak of saliva connected your lips even when your faces slightly distanced. Your skin promptly looked for his contact, rubbing your nose with his in an affectionate dance.

Your delicate touch exuded a sweet nature, hugging his shoulders with light limbs. In contrast, Rafe gave your roots a last pull, drawing a pained pant from you; the blond took the opportunity by forcing his tongue into you.

His wet muscle twisted expertly while exploring every corner of your sensitive cave. He didn’t hold back when it came to intruding in foreign places, such as your narrow throat; causing you to choke up on his taste.

You squirmed away at the best of your capacities, only achieving a brief break from his selfish desire.

He didn’t take it well, letting go of your waist in favor of squeezing your throat.

“Rafe” Your muffled voice was accompanied by small hands trying to pacify the uncomfortable grip.“No one else can have this…but me.” You nodded softly in response, a mindless gesture sent by your dizzy impulses.

You didn’t dare to protest when the blond guided you by the neck onto the bed. As soon as your nape hit the pillow, his burly thighs made themselves present on each side of yours, caging you in his embrace. His arms didn’t wait much before using their brute force and breaking your shirt in half.

The fabric snapping in half made an ugly noise, causing you to flinch. “Stay still,” He grunted on your face, fed up by your need to hide from him. You gave in for a moment, allowing him to fondle your exposed skin with as much harshness as his aching desire dictated him.

He rubbed his open palms up and down your torso, warming your body with delicious friction. Your breath got stuck in your throat as soon as his hand reached your breasts, squeezing the mounts and pinching your nipples between his long fingers.

A particular harsh pinch had you instinctively pushing him away, or at least trying to. But your efforts were quickly dissipated by a secure lock that kept your wrists squished together. “Stop fucking pushing me away!” He shouted while cutting the distance between your faces. “I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed together in self defense.

“You’re mine.” His voice was muffled between licks, he tickled your neck and clavicles with his tongue. Not one single part of your exposed body was left unloved.

He enjoyed rolling your most sensitive parts with his wet muscle, provoking honeyed mewls and breathless moans from you. “You drive me insane…wanna see that sweet pussy of yours,” he said while pawing at your cotton panties.

His desperation leaked through his fingertips while the pink underwear slid down your legs. Between fogged eyes you could discern the blond’s hand sneaking the private piece of clothing into his pocket, that only made you feel more flustered.

You were taken by surprise when your knee’s back touched your ribs. Rafe accommodated himself in between, a big predatory smirk on his pretty face.

Some drops of a warm liquid fell on your folds, sliding down and reaching your entrance. “Gotta make it wetter.” He grinned playfully, big digits reaching for the soaked thing.

Your legs wiggled at the sensation of Rafe’s fingers combining his spit and your wetness with circling movements. He was merciless, rubbing your clit until it turned red.

Your whimpers fueled the blond’s ego; making you grip the sheets with overstimulation as you felt a foreign object teasing your walls. His digit was welcomed by your cozy hole, immediately tightening around it.

One finger soon became two and when you finally felt three of his callused knuckles diving harshly into you, the knot that had been painfully forming inside of you was ready to snap.

Wet noises were overshadowed by a series of high pitched screams. Your orgasm leaked everywhere, soaking the boy up. As you were about to apologize for the mess you’ve just created, the blond took his drenched fingers and teased your plump lips with it.

You complied, opening your mouth and allowing the nectar to invade your taste. His eyes held an intensity to them, dilated pupils completely mesmerized by your teary eyes.

The tears grew thicker as his digits hit the back of your throat. The Cameron boy enjoyed playing with your vulnerability, forcing you to take more than you could handle.

“Shhh” His voice sent chills down your spine. Shushing the coughing that followed your mouth’s release. The next thing you felt was his heavy breathing on your sensitive sex. He didn’t resist long before sucking on it, wide licks covering the whole of it.

“Wait-” Your elbows sank on the mattress as your head lifted up. “It hurts.” You were referring to the new orgasm waiting to be freed at the expense of your own sanity, Rafe only chuckled mockingly -immersing his wet muscle deep inside-.

(…)

The night had been long, the blond made you come multiple times on his tongue and palms, ignoring your pleas for a break until his own pants were stained.

An unapologetic friction made you regain some consciousness. Your eyes itched under the leaking sun rays as a groggy groan caused you to become fully aware.

A nose sank on the top of your head while a meaty thigh pressed itself against your naked sex. “Good morning, Angel.” The nickname sounded pure, contrasting the way he pawed at your breasts.

You squealed at the fastening pace that took place between your legs. Rafe was amused by your body’s reaction, rubbing his hardened cock against your lower back. “Oh…I think you were too loud.” You could sense a snarky grin overpowering the blond’s features.

The steps on the hall grew louder, only stopping when reaching the closed door.

There was a gentle knock and then a familiar voice, “Y/N…everything alright?”

You were formulating a decent response when the boy’s leg started bouncing up and down at an unbearable speed. Your moan was hardly muffled by your ashamed palm. “I- I’ll be out…” The blond strands of hair easily tangled between your fingers as you indirectly begged for some sort of modesty.

“…out in a minute.” You hardly finished the sentence. “Alright” John B didn’t sound as convinced when he walked away, still, you let out the biggest exhale when Rafe’s torture stopped. “Thought you were going to moan my whole name at that Pogue.” His tone was playful, pinching your ribs while laying a small kiss on your hairline.

“Please…don’t do that again.” You were now facing him, elbows supporting your weight. Even though your ask was polite, the blond’s response wasn’t.

He sat down, causing the blanket to slip from his body and reveal his toned chest. “Do what, huh?” He instigated, mocking eyes burning on yours. “Rub your soaked pussy.” His smirk was closer to your shy mouth, teasing you with a peck on them.

“But you fucking love it,” his teeth buried slowly on your lower lip, sending a pleasurable shiver down your back. He smiled truthfully when you leaned closer, searching for his contact. “How are you feeling?” You hesitantly asked while hiding your face under his.

“That old man’s stubbornness is starting to tire me the fuck out.” He sighed from the back of his lungs, clearly distressed by his father’s attitude. “What is it this time?” You felt bold by dropping the question when caressing his ear lobe with your own cheek.

“Had some trouble buying the generators…they haven’t arrived yet.” Your brows furrowed together, “but that isn’t your fault.” You validated him, undoubtedly believing every single word he told you. “Either way, gonna fix it this week.” He sounded secure, always backing things up with that particular confidence of his.

“Okay, let me know if I can help.” The soft smooch caressed his neck’s skin, creating a comforting sensation for him. “I know about a few ways you could be useful.” The mischievousness in his voice was almost tangible.

“Oh-” You were interrupted by a notification, followed by a vibration coming from the night table. Your bodies were forced to distance as you focused on the screen; ‘bro, get out the bed. It’s late,’ Kiara’s message read.

“You didn’t tell me you broke your phone.” You were slightly confused by his remark. “What?…Oh, yeah I did. I guess I can be really clumsy sometimes.” You giggled nervously at the reminder, still, Rafe wore a serious face. “I’ll get you a new one.” He sounded decisive, not giving you space for doubt. “No…Don’t bother.” You expressed your honest opinion either way. “Don’t bother?…You’re my girl, of course I’m going to fucking bother.”

“I-” Obnoxious knocking took you both out of the subject. “Wake your ass up, it’s about to be noon.” Your sister’s voice held no sympathy, as it mostly never did when it was directed your way. “Y/N!” She became louder, fist growing more strength against the poor piece of wood. “Sorry!…just give me a second.” You peeled your eyes at the Cameron boy, encouraging him to get up.

He lazily stood up, his position revealing his hard abdomen and burly muscles. Your anxiety contrasted his nonchalance, evident in the way he calmly dressed up. “Rafe!” You squealed on the low, careful to not alert the angry girl outside. “Yeah…Yeah” He paid no mind to your desperation, taking his time to grab the side of your face.

“C’mon!” The brunette shouted while the blond planted a long kiss on your forehead. “Behave.” His demand sounded almost like a growl for its dominating nature. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret later, alright?” You had to uncomfortably bend your neck to look him straight in the eyes.

Without a real idea of what he meant with his aggressive words, you could only nod in submission.

(…)

“This is disgusting.” Your sister said while looking at the boutique’s mirror. The pale silk dress combined with the flower crown made your sister’s stomach twist with fervering annoyance. “What do you mean? It’s perfect for Midsummers.” The older woman caressed the brunette’s hair in hopes of smoothing her bad mood. “I look like a bourgeoisie pig” The later answered by frowning at the reflection.

“Look Kiara, I know you wanted to spend the day at Jen’s but…just try to be civil.” Your mom was oblivious to the actual reason you were both so adamant on assisting today’s dressing appointment. “Come on, let’s try on the purple one!” Anna chirped with excitement, contrasting the sour sigh your sister let out when she was thrown again in the changing room.

You exhaled with a newfound tranquility, finally free from your family’s disagreements. Taking advantage of the rare peaceful moment, you checked your phone -looking for any important news regarding Pope’s health-.

These couple days had been challenging, dealing with your friend’s recovery, JJ’s wildness, Sarah and Kiara’s rivalry and Hayward's questions about his son's location; it had all taken a toll on you.

Your hands swam between the infinite choices that were presented in front of you. You tried to occupy your mind by comparing the different colors and textures the dresses had, but the distraction was short lasting when familiar voices echoed through the store.

“Of course Mrs. Thornton. We will contact our seamstress as soon as possible.” The receptionist’s throat sounded as it was being restricted, the nervousness clear in her tone. “Topper, take the suitcases.” Topper’s mother commanded, her voice didn’t show a single hint of doubt or hesitation.

Your limbs went lightly stiff when you heard heavy footsteps getting closer to where you stood. You saw his tall figure tuning the corner, blond hair brushed to the side, tight polo shirt and brown loafers completing the Kook look. “Hi…” You awkwardly greeted him, noticing him slightly grimacing at your presence. “Hi,” he dryly responded, scanning you from head to toe before completely turning around.

You felt a wave of insecurity rushing through your being, making you fidget a little. The blond avoided your gaze as he looked for a place to install the clothes filled bags. “Let me help with that.” You shyly suggested while getting by his side. “Don’t” He roughly reacted at your hands reaching out for the heavy load.

“Oh, ok” You backed up immediately, not wanting to disturb the Kook’s patience. Seconds passed like hours as you followed his movements closely, almost perplexed at his dislike for you. “Look Topper, I know you probably hate me…” He scoffed at your comment. His humorless face made you feel a tad more uncomfortable. “…and I know it wasn’t easy for you…but I’m thankful for your…choice.” It felt like you were walking on fire as each word left your mouth. Regret started bubbling in your stomach; you weren’t sure as to why you chose to remember the awful incident that almost made your friend end up in jail.

And you were let utterly weirded out as the Thornton boy shook his head in short laughter, wearing a half-hearted smirk while making his way out the dress filled room. “You shouldn’t be thanking me.”

A/N: Thank you to all the lovely people who reblog and comment. It motivates me to continue writing 💕

[housecow]

What are your favorite geographic regions of Texas?

BEST question!!!!!!

1. Hill country. One of the most gorgeous parts of TX—karst topography and amazing caves!!! bats!!! and this area was volcanic during the cretaceous, you can almost imagine the island chain it was back then while driving thru the hills. the guadalupe river snaking between cliff faces?? heaven. AND this part of TX has the best trees, no contest. who cares about coastal live oaks when you have 400 y/o+ bald cypress?? and american sycamores reflecting the water??? giant pecans?? i could spend an eternity here. maybe i will…. idc if my car stalls going up the hills and ppl behind me get mad <33

2. WEST TX. 🎶is the best texas… it’s a beautiful, indescribable place. and the geology???? holy shit. i will admit ive never even been to big bend before or the more mountainous regions, but i’ve driven close enough!!!! and my bestie visited recently so i claim his memories. people forget this version of TX exists and they SHOULD. so we can keep it to ourselves!!! aguja and javelina formations my beloveds ❤️ you’d find yourself lost there and never regret a moment. i love that barren ass drive from TX to new mexico tbh

3. Post Oak Savanna: weird one, i know!!!! but im a bitch for flat land. i may be one of the only ppl that can drive thru the great plains and feel right at home. i like seeing what’s around me!! mountains are scary. plus, god…. soft, rolling hills south of san antonio, seas of golden grass, old oaks standing as monuments, having been there longer than anything colonial-made in the US. absolute fucking behemoths. you wouldn’t understand this until you approach these things—it’s like the moment you enter that massive, widespread canopy, the world is quieter. the trees almost speak to you. yes i’m in love with them. beneath your feet and everywhere you go, fields of petrified wood 🥺

plus. this is one of the most ecologically important areas of TX, surprisingly. its an example of one area that’s supposed to be governed by fire. of course, now that’s no longer occurring, shrubification, tree encroachment… it used to serve as a sort of bridge for wildlife, but now it’s a fence. sad. anyways, you can tell by the trees they were made to withstand fire. hard, aggressive bark on live oaks.

interestingly, the ones south of the hill country are mixes of q. virginiana (coastal live oak) and q. fusiformis (escarpment oak) and should be the TX state tree in my humble opinion. pecans are found literally everywhere, these are found only here!!

[aloysiavirgata]

How about some middle-aged reflections on the early days of their (romantic/sexual) relationship?

They’re spreading mulch around the trees, tucking flowerbeds in for winter. The air is crisp and dry, sharpened by the pungent smell of the mulch.

“Got the Stanford alumni newsletter yesterday,” Scully says. “Guess who their new entomology professor is.”

He frowns back, puzzled. Her tone indicates that the answer is one he should get. Does he know any entomologists?

Mulder starts to shake his head. “I have no-“

He sees her face, the smirk she’s trying hide, and then he remembers. “Nooooo,” he says, drawing the word out with a laugh. “Bambi?”

“Bambi,” she confirms, grinning now. “Did you sleep with her? I honestly can’t remember.”

“No!” He’s a bit shocked that she thought this. He’d kind of wanted to though, he recalls. Little khaki shorts.

Scully rolls her eyes. “Oh, sorry to impugn your virtue.”

Mulder offers her a petulant look. “You make it sound like I was Wilt Chamberlain-ing my way through every case.”

She leans against the big sycamore, scoffs. “You’re mighty defensive there, Marty.”

He grins back. “Judge away. You weren’t putting out yet. Not to me, anyway.”

Scully laughs. “We were so young.”

“We were so young.”

She rolls her palms around the rake handle, her beautiful slim fingers with oval nails like the inside of a seashell. She’d been pretty back then, he thinks. Lovely. But now she’s ethereal, refined to some radiant essence.

“I think….hmm. I think some part of me really felt that if you and I followed the rules then everyone else had to as well, you know?” Her expression is a little wistful. A little sad.

He does know. “I like to think it made it that much sweeter in the end.”

“It did. I loved you so…so….purely. I remember when you made it to that Congressional hearing. I think I was done then. The rest was just waiting to happen.” She laughs, a little shy even now.

“You were like Beatrice,” he says to her, adoringly, in the honeyed light. “Come to lead me into Paradise.”

Scully drops the rake, walks over to take his hands in hers. “Is this heaven?” she asks, gazing up.

Mulder smiles back, squeezes her cool little fingers. The wind chimes on the deck ripple like harp strings. The sun makes a halo on her tawny head.

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force• ch 1

Chapter 1- DARK PHENOMENON

Jake x reader (we'll get there... I promise)

Words: 10.5k

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

Warnings: Dystopian Horror Cursing, Smoking, Mention of Alcohol, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Hunting, Violence (mention of firearms), Looting, Kidnapping, Wounds and Pain, Blood, Death & Dying, Burials, Lying, Deceit, Sadness

enjoy my dabbling in the sci-fi world

•

Cheatham County, Tennessee 2030

Y/N

It feels like only yesterday that I noticed that the hillside beside my garden seemed as if it had taken on a different shape, the sycamore tree perched at the foot of it tilted and stretching way lower than it normally did. I squinted in question at the sight, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me. The day was chilly and windy but the sun still shone, casting late-evening shadows across the garden ground. ‘Strange,’ I’d thought to myself as I realized. ‘A sinkhole?’ 

I stood from my knelt position, wiping my hands against one another as I cleared the dirt from them.

I wasn’t wrong, the ground was sunken and almost rutted, almost as if it had quietly shrunken itself down five or six feet sometime throughout the day. When my toes poked up to the edge of it, I backed away quickly, realizing that the ground could potentially give way again at any second, and take me right along with it. The wind had picked up as I skipped backward, putting as much distance as I could between it and me. A strange type of fear had taken over my body, one that I’d never felt before. ‘Sinkholes don’t happen here, do they? Don’t they normally occur in sea-level land, or near river beds where the bedrock is weakest?’

Hell, I didn’t know for sure. I’d never seen a sinkhole in real life before, nor had I ever really done much research on them. I made my way back inside as a light drizzle began to coat my face, letting the door slam behind me with the vacuum pull of the wind mixed with my open windows. I sat down at my kitchen table, pulling my phone from the charger as I searched up my grandfather’s contact. 

I pulled the phone to my ear and listened to the tone ring out, and his gruff voice greet me on the other end. 

“Evening, youngin’! What are you wastin’ time with today?” he joked. 

A smile cracked across my face. “Nothing, Papaw… was just cleaning up the dead weeds from the garden. Hey, I noticed something out in the yard, I think I have a sinkhole…”

I heard him inhale his cigarette smoke. “A sinkhole? How in god’s name…? You sure, youngin’?”

“I’m positive. Look, I’ll send you a picture.” I turned my phone and snapped a quick few photos out the kitchen window, showing the land he knew just as well as I did, and how it now sat very, very differently. “There. Should be coming through, now.”

I listened as he puffed his cigarette again and clicked around on the screen of his phone, still very uncomfortable with the thing, and why it was really necessary in his life. “Hell’s fire, you’re right. When’d you notice it?” he asked. 

I sat back down in my kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other as I peered up at the ceiling. “Just… Now…” My voice trailed off as I inspected the ceiling and wall in front of me, seeing that a giant crack had formed right along the load-bearing wall in the center of my small home. “Damn, Paps, there’s a crack in my wall, too…”

Suddenly, I felt panicked, standing up to run my hand along the fracture. It was big, almost a centimeter thick, all the way from the floor to the ceiling. 

“You’re kiddin’ me. Go downstairs, go to the basement, see if there is a crack there…” he ordered, so I did. I kicked the old paint cans to the side as I rounded off the bottom step of my basement, trying to make sense of where the floor would line up with the walls above me. Sure enough, there it was, the old stone foundation that was holding up the footers of my little home had begun to collapse, sinking down into the ground right in the center of it all. 

“Shit, it’s here, too. It’s bad, Paps, what do I do?!” I panicked, looking around for something as if I could prop it all back up. 

“Get everything that you can, all your valuables, sis. Pack it all up and come here. Come stay with me and your Gran. Don’t be afraid, just be aware. I’ll call your Daddy and tell him what’s happened. Me and him and your brother will come out and assess it once’t this rain passes.”

I felt as though my chest was starting to heave, the sudden mind-bending fear that my whole home was going to cave in on itself and crush me now scaring me more than anything I’d felt in a long, long time. “Okay, okay I’ll be there soon. Thanks, Paps,” I said as I hung up the phone, making sure to snap another few quick photos before I dashed back up the stairs in search of my suitcase. 

Little did I know that that would be the last time I would ever set foot in my tiny little cottage, the first home I ever had after I moved from my parents’ in Nashville after college. I’d bounced from apartment to apartment before I finally moved back out to the country to be near my grandparents. The cottage was tiny, and it wasn’t much, but it was mine. I’d stayed single for the majority of my life, never settling on any one man, finding flaws in damn near all of them that I brought home with me. I was 32 at the time, and settling down into a relationship or marriage was the absolute furthest thing from my mind. I’d cherished that home, filling it with antiques and spice racks and multicolored lace curtains… transforming it into the home I had always wanted while maintaining my steady work-from-home career. 

I remember my head spinning like a top as I packed up my valuables… my laptop and my important paperwork, my toiletries that would last me a few days, along with a few practical outfits that would keep me warm with the changing season. Surely I didn’t need to pack for more than a few days, long enough for my dad and brother to come and see if they could fix the footer under my house and allow me to grab a few more things.

But I was so, so sadly mistaken.

I never got to set foot in my little cottage again. That home eventually got eaten up in what turned out to be the first sinkhole in Tennessee. Well, not the very first, obviously. But the first one that would spawn a series of many more across the state of Tennessee, and Kentucky, and all the way down into Alabama and into Mississippi. 

That was so long ago, now, and the way of life I knew and loved changed forever that day, as the world as we knew it tilted itself on its axis, never to be the same again. 

That day, that very day, the Earth had decided that she was going to rid herself of these heartless beings that someone had decided would inhabit her, stretching and breaking and destroying everything in her power to extinguish all of mankind and all that mankind had created in spite of her. The Earth didn’t need us anymore, and though we were all completely reliant on her, we had also created an invisible force of a blend of scientific knowledge and powerful mechanics that, inevitably, had drained her completely dry of her natural resources. 

No one believed it was the end of days, there was no giant announcement that came across our radio waves and on our phone alert systems. There was no dark, biblical occurrence or seven plagues like those who believed in such things had predicted… it just… happened. 

One day I was weeding my garden, and the next, I was coming to terms with the fact that I had no choice but to thrust myself into full on survival mode. Living with nothing more than what I had at that very moment, and watching as everything in my life dwindled down more quickly than anyone could even fathom. 

Earthquakes shook the planet. The rivers all over the world had begun to overflow, the trees began to uproot themselves and fall like timber. Animals would be dead on the side of the roads, even animals that seemingly had absolutely nothing wrong with them. Birds, bears, wolves… lying and littering the hillsides as if they had just laid down to go to sleep.

Even the sun wasn’t the same. It just felt different. The normal heat that fell onto your skin seemed to sear it now instead of warm it. The wind, when it did blow, made a hissing noise as it’d pass by. The sinkholes continued, even some as big as lakes, swallowing up unsuspecting neighborhoods and taking everything with them in their wake. 

In the weeks following that day, my father had forced my grandparents and I to come back to Nashville, given that there hadn’t been any disturbances in the land there, yet. So the three of us packed up what we needed, saying goodbye to the home that my grandparents had lived in since marriage, and loading everything into their old pickup truck. We made the short drive back home to my parents’ where they had prepared the guestroom and my old bedroom for our arrival. 

My younger brother James still lived at home with them, still young but never having the want to move out and be on his own. He was eight years my junior, twenty-four years old and working on his master’s degree in engineering and technology. Truly, he was too smart for his own good. My parents had allowed him to live at home as he was a very quiet creature, devoting most of his life to his studies instead of being any type of social butterfly. He was strong, though, and never hesitated to be the one to come and pick me up after I’d had one too many drinks at the bar. 

“Hey, sis. Sorry your house got swallowed up,” he’d said as he took me in his bear-hug embrace, patting the back of my head with his giant hand. 

Though my body was reeling with fear of the unknown, James was the one to bring me back down to earth with his overwhelmingly warm embrace and matter-of-fact way of speaking. My only sibling, though much younger, always knew exactly what I needed, right when I needed it. “Thanks, pipsqueak. Kinda fuckin’ sucks, actually,” I’d replied with a defeated lilt. “Didn’t think I’d be living back at Mom and Dad’s during the apocalypse,” I joked. 

I still remembered how his face had contorted hearing that word, still a shock to the system to hear it said out loud. It shocked me too, even as I said it. The two of us retreated to the living room as my parents assisted my grandparents in getting their room unpacked, which at the time seemed like nothing more than a menial task to mask the reality of what was happening around us. Menial actions to make the situation feel less threatening and more like something we could ignore. 

“Is this shit really happening, Y/N? Like are we really going to have to–”

“Yes, James. You saw my house, you’ve heard the talks on the News… it’s happening. And it’s happening fast. Everywhere.” I was always a very straightforward person, getting right to the point of things instead of beating around the bush. I always thought it was a waste of time, ignoring the reality of things. 

“Fuck,” he’d mumbled under his breath, his leg bouncing up and down as he hugged one of Mom’s old decorative pillows on his lap. My little James, always wearing his heart on his sleeve and possessing the inability to hide his emotions. Though his stature was monstrous, his personality never mirrored it. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I pondered him, feeling that strange aura that only siblings share bouncing right off of him. “What is it, James? What’s wrong?” I’d asked, now really getting worried as I watched his eyes scan the room aimlessly. 

He sniffed hard through his nose, scooting closer in the chair. He held his giant hands out to me, palms down, his knee still bouncing furiously. “What?!” I asked. “I’m confused… What is it?”

He swallowed and finally flipped his hands over, revealing to me something that I had never seen on him before. His palms and fingers were covered with some type of bruise-like rash, marks that resembled heavy birthmarks but a very deep purple as opposed to a light pink. “What happened? Did you burn yourself?” I’d asked, taking his wrists in my hands to observe him.

He shook his head. “No, they just… it just appeared a few days ago. It started out like weird bumps, then it’s turned to this. And it’s spreading, sis. I don’t–” his voice trailed off as my eyes met his, full of worry. 

“Does it hurt?” I asked, not prepared to hear the truth. 

“Yeah. It doesn’t feel good… I’ve been hiding it from Mom and Dad, I don’t want them to worry any more than they already are, ya know?” 

I shook my head in agreement as I let my fingertips brush over the strange marks. “Anywhere else on your body?” I asked. 

“No. Not yet, at least…”

“Care if I take a photo, just so we can try and look it up? I’d make you an appointment, I just don’t think…” I trailed off again as the same thought process flew through both of our heads. There won’t be any more going to the doctor.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” he muttered as he exhaled and I snapped the photo, my recent album now no longer full of my lavish boardwalk lunches and blurry nights out with friends, but instead screenshots of international news articles and how to tie paracord.

We’d holed up there with my parents for a month or so before our next greatest fear came crashing down over us. Suddenly, like a blackout in a storm, every piece of technology as we knew it ceased to do its job.

The big stuff went first– internet telecommunications and hubs… then went the cell phone towers and television broadcasts, little by little it all began to fail, thus cutting off communication between us and the rest of the world completely. There was no such thing as using your cell phone anymore, and those who still had landlines only were able to get them to work some of the time. Wind turbines, hydroelectrics, newer vehicles… all of it simply just stopped performing. Though the most intelligent scientists and blue-collar employees on earth tried as they might, nothing worked. Nothing held up. It was like all technology had forgotten its only purpose, the only reason it was created in the first place.

We knew things were bad when we caught word that the major hospitals had closed down and had already begun resorting to old medicine. A new sadness fell upon us as we realized that my grandma would no longer be able to just run out to the pharmacy for her medications, and the realization of that was almost harder to swallow than knowing that James’ hands were being eaten alive by something inside him.

But I would find them. I would venture out and get them for her, no matter what it would take. None of us had really bothered to leave the confines of our home, knowing that anything past our neighborhood was probably a warzone of greed and looting. Or worse, full of more sinkholes. We truly had no way of knowing, except for the quiet and quick conversations held with our trusted neighbors over the fence line. Everyone was simply terrified.

We’d already started to notice a strange amount of people walking the streets by my parents’ house; the normally calm and quiet neighborhood full of retired musicians and elementary school teachers was now teeming with sketchy foot traffic. My dad and grandfather wasted no time in resorting to armed protection, pulling out my dad’s arsenal of weaponry he kept locked away in the basement since my childhood. Never did he think he would actually think about using it.

The days were long, and the nights were even longer. Each day brought a new fear to us, a new way of questioning how we were going to survive, if we were going to survive. It was almost like we were sitting around waiting for someone to tell us what to do next. And when we expected to hear something from our government, all we got was silence. It was like they had left us all for dead, never once giving us even a sliver of advice.

There were days when my mother would have a complete mental breakdown, her fearful tears turning into full-on panic attacks that would leave her exhausted and still, my sweet father and grandfather by her side whether she needed them or not. 

Next came the fall of electricity as a whole. The whole world, shrouded in darkness as panic fell upon everyone surrounding us. No longer did we have the simple luxury of being able to turn the lights on and off. Hot water had to be heated manually, and we learned to cook over a small campfire in the back yard. 

One night, as the weather began to cool, the six of us gathered in our living room, cooking over a propane stove Papaw had thought about packing last minute. The wind was blowing a lot colder, now, but we managed to keep warm as the season began to change over into winter. Luckily, the almanac had said this was to be a mild winter, and we still had enough supplies to last us through, but my grandfather and I had noticed that it would be necessary to venture out for food, soon. 

He and I were always on that same wavelength, speaking to and through one another and making decisions far ahead of time. We were both doers, and pretty smart ones, at that. 

“We’ve got to go back,” I whispered to him after supper that evening as we did our best to clean the dishes. “You know that, right?”

His crows feet became more prominent as he winced at me. “I know we do. But the question is when? And how will we convince them that we need to retreat back to Cheatham?” It’d become obvious to me in the past week or so that it was time to go back out into the country to my grandparents’ home, away from the middle of the city where the dangers were creeping in around us at a quicker pace.

“There will be an argument, I’m sure. I know your mother won’t want to leave her home, and she will say that the city can give us more supplies than my farm could,” he whispered. What my grandfather and I both understood was that while that much was true, the supplies would only last so long before they’d be all gone, forcing us all to retreat anyway. Not to mention the stores have probably all been looted clean, by now. 

“Dad and James and I will go into the city for last minute supplies. Gran’s medications and anything else we can get our hands on,” I decided as he dropped his dish, grabbing my wrist firmly in his, holding it steady. 

“You’ll do no such thing, youngin’. I’ll go. You stay here, with your mother and grandmother.” His voice was stern, and though I was a full-grown adult, I knew better than to argue with my elders. 

“But Paps, you’re… no spring chicken,” I said with a hint of warmth in my voice. One last attempt to make him stay, and let me go. He may have been old, but he was still stronger than any man I had encountered in the past few years. 

“No matter. You’re stayin’ with them,” he said, picking up his dropped dish and rubbing the cloth over it again. Deep down, I knew it was because if it really was as dangerous as they said it was out there in the new public, he’d selflessly choose to put himself in the middle of it if it meant saving my life. 

I sighed. “First we’ve got to convince them to leave.” And that was going to be the hardest part.

+++

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of my grandmother shrieking in pain. It woke all of us, actually. My family and I met in the hallway of the freezing cold home, all of us rushing to my grandparents’ bedroom to see what was happening. 

We pushed the door open to find them both in the floor, my grandfather hunched over my grandmother’s body in the fetal position, her hands gripping at her chest. 

“Dad, Dad what’s wrong with her?!” my father yelled as we all fell to the floor with them in a panic. “Is it another heart attack?!”

“No,” my sweet and timid grandmother was able to choke out. “My skin, it’s– it’s burning so–” just as her words stopped, her body lurched backward, her muscles tightening so rigidly that my grandfather had no choice but to catch her. Her hands still gripped at her chest, her fingers now scratching  and ripping her pajama top off, the buttons flying all across the room. “It burns!” she cried.

My father and I crept closer, my brother helping my grandfather to hold her body. I ordered my mother to grab a flashlight, and when she returned, we shone the light on the area that my grandmother was grasping so tightly. And there on her chest, right below her breastbone, right where her heart was, was the exact same bruised rash that had overtaken the skin of my brother’s hands. 

My eyes shot to him, both of us falling into pure panic as we simultaneously realized what we were seeing. 

“Is it a heart attack, Jane, are you–”

“NO!” she cried. “My skin is on fire, right there, right here–” she pointed, and another look to my brother told me that the fire sensation was the exact same that he had been experiencing on his hands. Suddenly he shot up, rushing into the living room while the rest of us tried to console my grandmother in the pale darkness of the morning. He returned quickly with a cloth in his hands, soaking wet and sopped with water. 

“Here, Gran. Let me… this will help,” he begged, kneeling beside her as he flattened the cloth over her rash. She yelped in pain again, her hands and legs growing stiff at the reaction as he forced the cloth to her. But after only just a few seconds, she relaxed, her once screwed-shut eyes finally opening to look at us.

A tiny cry of relief left her thinning lips as her muscles fell limp, obviously feeling somewhat free of the pain. 

“James, how did you– How did you know that would help her?” my grandfather asked as we all stayed sat in the bedroom floor. 

I watched as James swallowed, finally sitting up enough to bring his hands into the barely-there glow of the rising sun through the window. He slowly turned his giant palms upright, showing my family the wounds that he had been secretly hiding from them for some time, now. Except since he showed them to me last, they’d doubled in size. Exact same color, exact same shapes as the bruises on my grandmother’s chest. 

“James, what on earth is that?” my mother cried, rushing to his side to hold his hands and inspect them more. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Couldn’t worry you more, Mom, I just couldn’t add to the…” James shook his head, unable to finish. 

“Do they hurt, son? Like Jane’s…?” my grandfather asked him. 

James nodded, swallowing harshly. “Yeah, and they’re only getting worse.”

+++

A bit later that same morning, James found me in the hallway, bringing his face close to mine as he spoke quietly. “It was her pacemaker,” he mumbled.

His eyes avoided mine as they shot around, his words catching me off guard. “What?”

“Her pacemaker. In her heart,” he said. James had always been a man of few words, but right then was a time when I needed him to explain to me his thoughts in grave detail. 

“Yes, James, but what do you mean? How do you know that?” I pressed, trying not to upset him.

“Think about it,” he said, grabbing my arm and twisting me away from earshot of the family. “My hands… All I’ve done my entire adult life is touch technology. Hold it, work with it… hell, I build computers, sis. I held my phone day in and day out. My laptop… My entire life was spent on them. And Gran, her pacemaker, right at the skin above her heart…” 

His words didn’t make sense to me at first, and they honestly confused me even more for a few seconds, until he turned his hands over to me again. The rashes had begun to centralize over his fingertips, the places on his hands that made direct contact with the technology he worked with. 

“James, you don’t think…?” I breathed, my heart suddenly falling. He maneuvered his hands to mimic holding a cell phone and how his fingers would hit the screen, the rashes sitting exactly where the phone would have touched his hands most. Then again, he moved them as if he was typing on a keyboard.

“Radioactivity?” I asked, still shocked and confused. 

He shrugged. “I dunno, maybe. But, does it not kind of make sense?” he asked, leaving me unable to answer. “If I had to bet, I would say that Mom and Dad will be next.”

My heart had gone from swimming in my stomach to sitting in my throat, making my breathing chopped and anxious. My father had climbed cell phone towers and repaired them, and my mother was an x-ray technician. 

“Fuck, James,” I said, crossing my arms. “It can’t be, what about me? Why haven’t I gotten any rashes, I’m around technology, too,” I argued.

He shrugged again. “Not really, though. Not as much as we are. Hell, Y/N, you spend more time in your garden and with a book in your hands than you do anything else. You lose your phone fifty times a day, you never even watch TV for Christ’s sake,” he blubbered, his voice also becoming pained. 

I was left stunned, unable to disagree with him. But still, shouldn’t my parents and I be showing signs of the rash, if James’ suspicion was true? He pushed past me, grabbing his winter jacket from the hook on the wall as he carefully slipped his arms through the sleeves. 

“We’re going into town. Stay here with Mom and Gran. We’ll be back tonight. Don’t come looking for us if we don’t make it back by dark,” James said. 

“James, no! I will go! It’s too dangerous! Paps needs to stay here, plus your hands–”

“Fuck my hands, sis,” he growled, his face close to mine again as his jaw clenched. I could tell he was in pain. He rounded the corner and plucked his shotgun from its place against the wall. “We’ll be fine. Take care of them.”

JAKE

I’d never seen my twin look at me that way, before. We’d shared everything… every first, every win, loss, every new experience and every happy moment, we shared them all, together. Feeling the exact same emotions at the exact same time because our shared DNA told us that we had to. In our 33 years, I’d never seen his eyes so full of fear, so full of uncertainty that I was sure if I didn’t act, my chest was going to collapse. 

And he’d only glanced at me for a second, maybe two.

We’d been preparing to wrap up the tour of our fifth album when the world shut down. Yeah, we’d all been through the whole Covid thing, but that was no match for this. A drop in the bucket compared to the entire earth as we know it ceasing to work alongside us anymore. It’d begun giving up on us, pushing us out as if it didn’t even know we inhabited it. Mother nature was fucking us, and there was nothing we could do about it.

Just those short ten-odd years ago, the four of us had gathered in that cabin out in the mountains to write what would come to be The Battle at Garden's Gate… running away from the infected world and hiding away from the virus to drown ourselves in our instruments and sound. The uncertainty was wild then, but now, fuck. This… this is something more wicked than any of us could have ever anticipated. 

Josh’s eyes bored into mine, speaking a thousand words before he downcast them, then looked back onto the hands and arms of our sound engineer. Completely covered in purple bruises and blisters, his fingers swollen to the point that they looked like they may explode. He was the first one we saw with the rash. 

We’d canceled the last half of our tour as shit went south, not like we’d have been able to do anything anyway, as all the technology falling to shit would have held us to strictly little acoustic sets. But we were stupid to even think about doing that. We were naive to think we could even go on. That anyone would even show up for the shows. There wasn’t even any point.

We’d heard the rumors about the rash, but we hadn’t seen one first-hand yet, until that day. It was the same day that our mother called and said our aunt and uncle’s home had been swallowed by one of the sinkholes. We were all terrified, no one even had any clue what to do. Where do we go? Back home? Do we stay together? Do we run?

I knew why Josh’s eyes were so cripplingly fearful that day. Not because of what was happening around us, not because of the bewilderment of being faced with a thousand situations at once, but because he was scared I would be next. I knew that, because after his eyes left mine, they shot directly to my hands. 

Our sound engineer had only gotten on board with us less than a year ago, but he’d been in the business longer than any of us had been alive. Our hearts broke for him, as he explained his pain to us and how he wished he could stay along with us, helping to play around with our sound as we distracted ourselves from the world falling apart. 

But we knew it was all for nothing. Things were only getting worse.

+++

“Tell me you don’t have any rashes. Tell me right the fuck now that none of you have anything on your hands…” Josh barked at Sam, Danny and I as we shut the van doors behind us, enclosing the four of us. We’d decided on doing the same thing we’d done a decade ago- retreating to the wilderness to write. Or, whatever the fuck. There was hardly any electricity… how I thought I could finalize anything without an electric guitar was beyond me. Shit was so fucked.

Sam and I glanced at one another from the two backseats, shaking our heads quickly as we both understood we’d be the ones most likely to show signs first, our instruments being ones with the most electricity pulsing through them. “No,” we both muttered, holding our hands up. “Nothing.”

“Good. Daniel?”

Danny mirrored our actions, holding his hands up after buckling his seatbelt. “No, I’m clean so far,” he said quietly from the passenger seat. 

Josh put the old van in reverse, taking a deep breath as he backed from the space of the parking lot. Our decision to retreat like this was a quick one, none of us really knowing what the best route of action was. Everyone around us had dissipated, gone back to their homes and families, and apparently the outside world had truly begun to crumble. We’d been a little hidden away from it all, having just returned from a leg of touring in Greece where things hadn't hit too hard, yet. Things in the US were apparently much, much worse. And when we returned home, we found it to be absolutely true.

Luckily, our families had all decided to meet us there, and hunker down together as a unit. We were all we had left, at this point.

“The first sign of any of it, we tell each other. Got it? I don’t care if you think it’s nothing. If you see it, share it,” he commanded of us. We all nodded and agreed, knowing that if the rumors were true, the three of us would most likely be the ones to see it first thanks to our constant use of our instruments.

It was quiet in the van as we drove through the looted and abandoned city we once loved, people roaming the streets aimlessly as the pure confusion began to set in. There were no stop lights, no heavy traffic, hell, there weren't even any storefronts open. Luckily we’d filled up fuel tanks at one of the last remaining gas stations before the electricity had shut down, and hit the road running North, back home to Michigan to gather our families and go to Yankee Springs. Anything was better than nothing, and where better to be than away from the looting and rioting and hide in a secluded few cabins, able to fend for ourselves and worry about nothing more than taking care of one another. 

+++

Naive, naive. 

Little did we know that our rations would run out quickly. Little did we know that we’d quite literally have to live off the land. Fish for food. Mom had to re-teach herself to can. Dad and Sam caught fish and killed squirrels with his old BB gun. 

There was no time to write. Fuck, there was no time to even play. We spent our time surviving. We’d had almost no contact with the outside world in almost a month. It was then that a few other families had gotten the same idea as us and joined us there, breaking into cabins and preparing winter camps.

We warmed ourselves with the fireplace, and we boiled our water to drink. We collected tools and stashed them away, and we hid every bit of food we brought deep in the basement of the cabin. Many nights were spent gathered around the fire talking and telling stories, trying our best to keep some type of normalcy about ourselves. But most nights we were all too exhausted to even care, crashing into our beds that we considered ourselves fortunate to still have.

I was scared. Of course I was scared. Things had happened so fast that three months felt like the blink of an eye. I hardly even kept up with what day it was. We'd gone from traveling the world and playing shows for thousands to hiding away in unmarked cabins in the woods, praying that we'd survive into the next day. I remember my mind being in a constant state of buzzing awareness, while at the same time feeling so numb and unable to grasp the fact that the world was ending that I could hardly see straight. 

Ending? No, maybe not. I’d read enough books and was educated enough to know that the Earth goes through her changes. She doesn’t care for the fact that we’re here. She’s going to go through it whether we are here, or not. Her job isn’t to protect us. Her job is to stabilize herself through her ages, making sure she doesn’t implode from the inside out and return to stardust to join the other millions of stars of our universe as she’s simply unable to keep the life that lives on her, alive.

The Ice Age, the Pleistocene, Quarternary… all of it happened, and is happening. We’re just here to witness this one it as it does, and record it in history books. 

“Holy fucking shit, man,” Danny exclaimed as we all had reclined on a hillside that night, passing around a bottle of Irish whisky. The wind was absolutely freezing, but luckily, we’d all become acclimated to it again. “Wait, are you saying… wait.” Danny sat up, his curls a mess as he’d long forgotten about his hair routine. “Josh, did you write…?”

I’d been drunkenly sharing my wise words and hypotheses about this supposed ‘end of the world’ with them all evening, accentuating my tales with my grandiose words to make them seem more intriguing. Just like I always did. Just to fit the bit.

“Did I write Age of Machine to go along with the literal historical changes that the earth makes? Yes, I did,” Josh replied matter-of-factly. “Though I wrote it to be inflicted by humans and not the Earth itself, but…”

“...Did you not know that, Daniel? Really?” Sam butted in with a slur.

Danny leaned back on his elbows. “I mean, yeah, I guess I kinda remember you explaining it as you wrote it, but god, that was ten years ago. And if I remember correctly, Sam and Jake were the ones that put in the work for that one because I had smoked a bit too much that night. But yeah, I guess I never really put two and two together…”

I smiled at Danny’s realization, and the fact that it took him nearly a decade to understand what Josh’s lyrics to that song had meant. And how eerily terrifying and ominous they were even still. I would have explained my hypotheses more in-depth had I known that Danny hadn’t ever put everything together.

A silence had fallen over us again as we watched the only constant in our lives these days– the moon gliding and rolling on her backdrop of stars. Without the filter of light pollution, every single one was visible, now. 

“How did you know, Josh?” Danny finally whispered.

“How did I know what?” Josh replied, and I could tell there was a lump in his throat. He didn’t want to talk about this. 

“That song… everything literally fucking happened, is happening… how did you…?”

“I didn’t, Daniel. Of course I didn’t fucking know this was going to happen,” Josh argued with venom in his voice. “Not in our lifetimes, at least.”

I heard Sam swallow hard. Finally, it was out on the table. The one thing we’d all been thinking, all too scared to bring it into the light. Except Danny, I guess. That damned haunting song we wrote ten years ago, somehow predicting the near future almost to a tee.

“Wait,” Danny rolled to his stomach to look at us. “This is insane… man, we… we wrote a song about this, about this exact shit happening… how in the fuck did we do that?”

Just then, a bright white and purple light lit up the dark night sky, a giant ball of exploding flashes so close it made us all jump to our feet in fear. It made no sound, of course, but the streaks of light burned bright as the sun for just a few seconds before fading away, the light burning down into blackness again.

“What the fuck was that?!” I yelled, looking to my brothers for confirmation. 

“Satellite,” Sam said. “It exploded…”

We all stood for a few seconds and watched to see if anything else was going to happen, and I remember my heart was beating so hard that I swore everyone could hear it. There’s no time to fall into fear, Jake. Embers of burning metal fell into the atmosphere, floating in space to maybe one day hit the earth. A contraption created by man and thrust out into the universe to give us knowledge of things we couldn’t see, exploded and died right in front of our eyes.

Just then I watched as Danny lowered his head, turning toward Josh to shove the bottle into his hand. “God machine… really malfunctioned and blew, hm?”

Y/N

My mother’s rashes came next. Deep purple bruises and red blisters began covering her entire body, centralizing over her hands mostly, too. They ate away at her, sending her into an almost comatose state as her body shook and vibrated in pain. We tried to keep her in a cold bath, and it brought some relief, but the rashes spread so quickly that we were nearly unable to keep up with them. We found that basic Ibuprofen did help with their pain control, but as the rashes worsened, the drug was little help. 

My father and grandfather and I were beginning to reach a point of helplessness as we were caring for my mother round the clock, my Gran and James doing whatever they could to help us, while still suffering with their own pain, too. 

We talked to the neighbors, and they all had begun to experience the same thing. Some had even made contact with health care professionals in their families, all reporting the exact same things, with no care plan in sight. The government apparently was still silent about it all, causing riots in the streets and parades onto our public law buildings. People looking for answers, guidance. Anything to help us. There was no such thing as seeing police patrolling the streets anymore. No ambulance wails heard in the distance. Nothing. We were helpless. Confused, lost, and utterly at our wit’s end. 

The day my mother finally succumbed to her rash was quite literally the worst day of my life. We all sat gathered in the bathroom, letting her body try and be soothed by the freezing cold water we’d submerged her in. We held her hands as gently as we could as she cried out in pain, my father nearly inconsolable as he crouched in the floor beside her. 

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry… If I could take this pain away from you, I would. I’d take it in a heartbeat,” he’d cried as his head fell onto the side of the tub. 

I’d gone numb. I was unable to maintain and regulate my emotions as life had begun happening so fast. I cried into my pillow the day she finally passed, trying not to let my screams be heard by the rest of the family. I could do nothing. My father, my grandfather… none of us. The house sat silent for hours.

James had sat on the back porch steps as he was unable to grip a shovel handle, watching as Paps and I dug a hole in the frost-dusted ground of the back yard. None of us spoke. Hell, none of us really even breathed. Dad carried out the body of his beloved, his face straight and emotionless as he dropped her lifeless body into the cold ground. I tried not to think too much about the action I was performing, knowing if I did I would surely lose what little food I'd eaten the past few days. 

The loss of my mother sat heavily on us as a few neighbors brought over what rations that they had barely been able to prepare, themselves. We allowed ourselves a few days to mourn her as the weather grew colder, and James’ rash spread to his arms. 

It was a week later that James had become unable to care for himself any more, and a week after that that a rash appeared on my father’s chest and hands. Both of them, being eaten alive by the ravishing blisters, leaving my grandparents and I in a mental state so disconnected from reality that we were hardly surviving. No longer did we care for ourselves. No longer did we enjoy the simplicities that came with life. Round the clock care, constantly. Ice baths, unending doses of pain killers, preparing scrap meals, and trying to get them to eat and drink while they all were being blinded with pain. 

Most of our neighbors had left. The street was nearly empty. Packs of wild dogs rummaged through homes that had been deserted, and what few people had stayed behind hid away in their homes in fear. Our plan of retreating back to the country had been put on the backburner when my Mother passed. And by some act of god, or maybe of sheer luck, my grandfather and I showed no signs of the rash, at all. My grandmother’s was spreading, of course, but at a much slower pace as everyone else’s, and her pain wasn’t nearly as horrific. James and I knew it was because she wasn’t exposed to technology, as much. His prediction had come true. 

First we buried James, and then we buried my father. Right there in the backyard, next to the garden that was now a pile of old, dead weeds that we hadn’t bothered to clear from the soil as Autumn turned to Winter. 

My grandfather cared for my grandmother as best he could, and I in turn cared for them both. Somehow, some way, I was able to compartmentalize it all, my brain going into overdrive as a trauma response, I guessed. I was the protector, now. The young and able one, stepping into the role of caretaker of my elderly grandparents. Truly, I had no other choice. 

I packed up my hiking bag with everything that I could, and convinced my grandparents to do the same. Paps agreed, it was time to retreat. There wasn’t anything here for us, anymore. 

There, we’d at least have a wood stove and firewood. Gran’s cellar full of canned vegetables, and a fenced-in yard with a barn where we could capture chickens and goats that were most likely still roaming the countryside of neighboring farms. Why we had ever agreed to come to the city in the first place was beyond me. Thought it would be easier, I guessed. Bigger house, close to the city and resources. Never did we think that things would get this bad. Never did we think that my grandparents’ homestead would have been the better option. But then again, never did we think we would lose three of our family in a matter of a month.

But now, as a cold and blistering wind blew across the shutters and creaked the house on its foundation, I made the executive decision to move my grandparents back to Cheatham County. Back to their farm, back to what they knew, in the house that they’d built. 

At dawn that next morning, the three of us stashed as much as we could into my Paps’ old pickup truck, and filled the tank to the brim with the diesel fuel my dad had stowed away in the garage. We prayed that their house wasn’t eaten by a sinkhole, and we prayed that everything would be just as we had left it. The three of us bundled up and clambered into the bench seat of the truck, and I mentally prepared myself to see the city I once knew and loved in a state that was going to be no less than jarring. 

I stuck the key into the ignition, hearing the old gears roaring to life. The sound was truly like music to my ears, a noise that none of us had heard in what felt like years. I pressed my foot to the gas pedal, revving the cold engine to come to life even more. We can do this… We can run away…

The sound of the engine ignited something deep in my chest, giving me an urge that I hadn’t felt in so long. It was the feeling of freeing myself, running away from all of the horrific scenes that my parent’s house had just been witness to. It was time to run. 

“You ready for this?” I asked my Gran as my fingers sat on the gear shift, ready to thrust it into drive.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” she replied, her gaze downcast on the street ahead of us. 

“Paps?” I asked. 

“Hit the gas, sweetheart.”

He rolled the crank window down and let a cold gust of air fill the cab as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one up as I pulled out onto the street, completely unknowing of what we were about to encounter. The smell of his smoke lit a new fire inside me, filling me with a newfound encouragement. And for the first time in months, I saw a glimmer of hope in my grandfather’s eyes. 

JAKE

Josh hadn’t spoken to us in days. Only the necessary words needed to get us through the motions of preparing meals, cutting firewood, and the like. Danny had questioned him about it again, the same conversation that had happened a few nights ago, when we watched the satellite explode. Danny didn’t intend to piss him off or whatever, but he had just had time to sit and think back on it, and dig a little deeper into the caves of Josh’s mind while we wrote that damn record. 

“This is the fucking New Age Crisis, isn’t it?! The one you wrote about?” Danny had said as mom cleaned up the dinner table one night. “You wrote about the fucking age of machine way back when we were writing Black Smoke, man!”

“Why in the fuck are you just putting all of this together, Daniel? Huh? Those words have been written for over a fucking decade, and you’re just now figuring all this out?!” Josh had retaliated, leaning his body across the table.

“No, I fucking knew it all, Josh! But don’t you think the fact that it’s kind of all coming true isn’t a little fucking weird?!” Danny replied, raising his voice. In the days since that first conversation, Danny had done nothing but appear to be in a constant state of thought. Deep thought. “It’s like you told the fucking future! And that’s just the tip of the iceberg!”

“God damnit Daniel,” Josh said as he shoved his chair under the table. “I’m not going on about this anymore, you don’t see anybody else caring about it.”

Danny looked my way. “Do you not think this is fucking weird, Jake? Seriously.”

I opened my mouth to speak, not wanting to further their argument. “I–I don’t think it’s that serious, I mean, there are similarities but…” I said calmly, running my nervous hand through my hair that hadn’t seen a wash in days. “Josh isn’t like, psychic or some shit…”

Danny slammed a fist onto the table, startling us all. “Why the fuck did you tell the video directors to make the whole Age of Machine video spin, hm? Did you want it to look like the viewer was being hypnotized? Just like you wrote about in Brave New World fucking years before? We fucking did what the literal lyrics said the other night, Josh. Outside, looking at the dark night sky and watching a satellite or a power of lies fucking die, just like you said. Kill fear. It all happened!”

“Daniel! Calm it the fuck down,” Sam said. “You’ve known this, we’ve all known this… he intertwines all his lyrics, he always has… why is this such news to you?”

Danny lurched himself to Sam’s face. “Because it’s coming fucking true Sam!” he spat, yelling in his best friend’s face. I raised my hand up between them, hoping to calm them before anything got out of hand. This was way out of character for Danny. 

Danny stood quickly from his chair, shoving it backward as the rest of our families came storming into the dark, candle-lit room to see what all the fuss was about. “I’m not fucking stupid, Josh. I know you know what the hell is going on. And I want nothing to fucking do with it,” Danny grit his teeth as he spoke, pointing his finger into Josh’s face before turning and retreating up the stairs of the cabin. 

“What in the hell is going on here?!” my mom asked, coming to Josh’s side.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Danny’s mom followed him up the stairs. 

“I don’t think there’s any getting through to him,” I stopped her. I hadn’t said anything, but I wholeheartedly had picked up on Danny’s strange, obsessive behavior lately. “I think he’s…” I swallowed. 

“He’s what, Jake?” she asked.

I slowly brought my finger to my temple, poking at it. “Getting in his head, a little,” I said gently. She gave me a sideways glare before her lips turned into a half-smile, and she finished rushing up the stairs. 

Yeah, Josh hadn’t talked to any of us since then. And neither had Danny, really. He spent his days locked away in his room, practically freezing himself to death and ignoring all our knocks as he sat at his desk with a notepad and pen. It was so strange of him. Completely out of character and it honestly started to worry us. 

One morning I woke and walked out onto the porch that faced the lake, looking out as a few random folks checked their fish nets and began their treks toward the woods to hunt. It had gotten significantly colder, and I could see my breath in the air. As I gazed out, something on the lake caught my eye. 

It was Josh, out on the John boat, paddling further out around the bend of the water. 

“Josh!” I yelled, signaling for him to turn around and come and pick me up. I needed to talk to him; Sam and I were going crazy without the two of them speaking to us. I bounded down the porch steps, rickety and soft from their old weathered age. “Josh!” I yelled again. Finally, I caught his ear. “Come here! Come get me!”

His shoulders dropped but he listened, paddling slowly back to the shore until the side of his boat tapped the grass. “What?” he asked. 

“I wanna go too,” I said, kicking my leg around to step into the boat. The misty fog was just settling over the calm water as Josh huffed a breath. 

“Why?” he asked as I made myself comfortable. 

“Because, you won’t talk to me, and I don’t like it. Figured I gotta resort to forcing you,” I replied with a smirk. I could feel the tip of my nose getting cold. 

Josh stayed silent but began paddling again, pushing us back out into the open water. We faced one another in the boat, my fingers interlaced as I watched him go stroke for stroke. Once we got to the middle of the water, he finally stopped, resting the paddle across his knees. I would wait for him to speak. No one could hear us out here. Just him and me. 

“It was all based on a dream, you know,” he said solemnly, his eyes cast out across the water. 

“What was?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting him to tell me more. 

“All of that shit, all the stupid fucking lyrics. I had a dream when I was like, what, 15? A nightmare, actually. A bunch of them. It was like I had… built this world in my sleep-state, like once a month I would have another one that built on top of the last. I wrote them all down, as soon as I woke up. I’d go to these other worlds that felt real in my head, as I dreamed them. I created so much while I was asleep. And the fucking weed and booze didn’t help the matter,” he went on, using his hands to talk, now. 

I was having trouble understanding. “...But, we all kinda helped write that stuff, Josh. Like, a lot of it…”

“Yeah but how do you think I was able to expand on that weird fucking world we built? You guys putting your two cents in, making me think so hard about it all, then going to sleep that night and having the most realistic dreams about it. Then waking up, and turning it into music,” he explained, biting his cheeks in as he gave me a devious smile. “Danny’s fucking right. All of it is happening. Maybe not really in the same context, or the same order, but. It’s happening. We’re watching it. I dreamed about the video we made for that fucking song. The setting, the context, all the weird props and shit…” 

“The drugging?” I asked, remembering jumping from my skin as we filmed those scenes of saline being dropped into our eyes.

“Yeah. The fucking drugging. The big white building. The cots, us being held hostage there by someone… it’s exactly how it all happened in my dream. I made sure of it. And I’m fucking scared, Jake…” he said, leaning across the boat and pulling on the collar of my coat. 

I looked into his eyes and swallowed. I knew why he was scared. If things kept going the way they were, the only thing that would come next would be an entity coming in and taking us… using us for some experimental bullshit like we’d had them do in the video. 

“Starcatcher was a little bit of a break from the norm of my nightmare worlds… I tied it all in, but I really based it off of one of those side-story ideas that you and Sam got that one night. Cults and blind faith and all that shit,” he whispered, rocking the boat a little. “But this last album…”

This last album. 

The one we didn’t even get to finish touring. We’d managed to fit one in right after Starcatcher had wrapped, continuing on with the world we’d built all those years ago. The world that I guess, now, came straight from Josh’s dreams. That one concentrated a little more heavily on love and romance and the freeing of oneself through intimacy, but this latest one, it was some of our darkest work, yet.

“Danny wasn’t kidding when he said that was only the tip of the iceberg. Shit got a little fucking dark with this last one, didn’t it?” he muttered, reminding me of all the lyrics we’d stayed up late writing just a couple of years ago. 

Lies, deception, control, death… we really did get a little heavy with it. We wound lyrics into symbolism with governmental control and all that. We really tapped back in to lyrically beating around the bush. And unfortunately, things seemed to be moving right on par with life as we fucking knew it, right then. 

“Yeah, it really did,” I agreed. “But listen, you don’t need to put that on yourself. Danny’s just… going through something I think. Getting in his mind too much. We’re isolated out here, Josh. Our lives just fucking stopped, now we’re out hunting to feed ourselves?! I think we all deserve to give ourselves a little grace right now, don’t you think?” I tried to reason with him as I felt my toes freezing in my boots. 

He sat almost emotionless, staring at the water beside us as he tapped the oar in his hands. “I wish you could see into my mind,” he breathed, almost soundless. “My nightmares… Danny’s right." He sighed heavily. "It's only going to get worse."

"How the fuck do you know that, huh? How do you know that shit won't go back to completely normal tomorrow?" I pressed, trying to fight an unending battle.

Josh's face turned green. "Did you not hear me just now? I said I wished you could see into my mind...see those dreams that I had." His voice was raising, chopping up with enraged tears. "It's like I'm fucking watching it all come to life. Every bit of it."

He leaned in closer to me on the bench of the boat. "Remember those damned symbols we put on Garden's Gate? I'd stayed up late one night reading through old symbology books and finding runes and shit just because I thought they looked cool... I picked out the ones I thought might go along with what we had for the album. Hell, I didn't think it would ever end up like this..."

"Like what?!" I squealed, raising my hands into the air.

"I don't know, Jake. I swear, it feels like I knew this was going to happen before it ever even did. And that sounds crazy, but I swear on everything, I thought I was just writing about my nightmares. Using them as fuel for lyricism. Never did I think I'd watch it all play out in real time..."

My heart hurt for him. I could tell he was truly internally struggling. He looked like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. But this notion that he had seen all of this happen before? No. It made absolutely no sense.

"You can't feel responsible for this..." I muttered.

"No. I don't. But I do feel like I had a hand in perpetuating it. Like I could have stopped it or--"

"Stopped the fucking apocalypse? Yeah..."

He dropped his head into his hands. "Shit, this is all so fucked up."

I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he shuddered through deep breaths, trying to calm himself, trying to make sense of what was happening in his mind.

"So you know more?"

He lifted his head, his eyes swollen and dripping with tears that weren't there for sadness. He was terrified.

"Yeah. I know more."

+++

It was three nights later that all hell broke loose. I was awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of the front door crashing open, and loud, heavy footsteps barging across the hardwood floor. In my half-asleep state, I thought it was maybe Sam trudging back inside after a late-night smoke, knocking the snow off of his boots, but when my gut felt that feeling of uneasiness, I shot up from my bed. I threw my sweatpants and a sweatshirt on, shoving my door open to rush down the stairs of the cabin. 

I was met with Josh already at my side as he had heard the commotion, too, and then we were met with the sound of my dad’s voice yelling and echoing off the wood walls. 

My dad’s voice had always carried, and he tended to be a very lighthearted man, but we all knew the way his voice sounded when he was serious. Scared. 

It was pitch black, but luckily I knew that cabin like the back of my hand, and Josh and I undoubtedly could navigate it even with our eyes closed. My shoulder was touching his as we finally hit the landing, my stomach churning with nerves to see what the hell was going on. 

I was met with a scene that I was sure I had seen in a movie before– silhouettes of tall men in dark clothing, black masks covering their faces as the weapons they held illuminated the space with tiny red laser lights. One had his boot across my father’s chest as he lied on his back on the floor. My mom was shrieking, pushing against one of the men as they held her back from getting to my dad.

“What in the fuck is going on?! Who are you? Get the hell out of here!” I yelled as I pushed my way through in the darkness, tripping over chairs and rugs and Josh’s feet as I moved to shove myself into the man holding my father down. All I remember was chaos. Fists, yelling, darkness… my mind wanting to protect my family and Danny’s family but also wanting to protect myself. It felt as if there were six other people in the cabin with us. And looking back, I think my count was about right, though I could hardly see a thing. 

I heard the sound of breaking glass, or maybe a plate or something as I caught a shadowed visual of Danny breaking a heavy ashtray across one of the men’s heads, but Danny was promptly thrown onto the floor, himself.

I felt the butt of a gun smack across the back of my head, knocking me forward to land in what I learned to be Sam’s arms, stumbling back as he caught my weight. It hurt, and I instantly felt a rush of blood to my skull and a metallic taste in my mouth. The red laser lights flitted around the room, only illuminating objects and people here and there. My vision was blurred and I felt like I could vomit; I saw quick flashes of Danny and my mom… Josh and Danny’s dad… But I couldn’t tell you a damn thing that happened from then on. The rush of confusion was blinding, my body on auto-pilot.

Some time thereafter, I woke up in the back of what felt like a truck, the walls high and metal around me. My arms were bound at my back, and my mouth was taped shut. I could hardly breathe, my head was pounding, and I could feel dried blood resting at the crook of my neck. The vehicle roared beneath me and I could hear the tires screeching around every turn. 

Yes, definitely in a vehicle.

When I had finally gotten my wits about me again, I tried my best to look around and get my bearings, and all I saw were the painted black walls of the truck, and the rugged rusty metal of the bed of it below me. I was enclosed. I screamed from behind my taped lips, unable to make hardly a sound as my chest and lungs felt deprived of air. I looked, I searched- nothing. No one. I was by myself. My mind raced back to what had happened at the cabin, and my memory only gave me that same blurred chaos. Six men. Weapons. No words, violence. 

And then, for the next hour, I was alone.

•

Tags: @gretavangroupie @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka

[necroangelz]

congratulations, the killer is still alive !!

day 5 of @magnoliawriter 's event

“ your old hyperfixation. ”

SHIN TSUKIMI ICONS! a bit lazy soz </3

rambling under the cut. like/rb appreciated! please don't tag this with anything that will imply you are shin.

NOW PLAYING: Congratulations, You Survived Your Suicide by Sycamore Smith !!

i found that song in a random shin playlist. i think it's pretty neat

I'm literally kin with this guy and i have no clue what to call him ever. i don't have kin memories as him either so i don't know what i personally liked. can i just default to calling him "little shit"?

my yttd hyperfixation days were crazy. i will never stop telling people i used to have 20+ separate save files and how i replayed the game nonstop. now the hyperfix has kinda faded and i barely play the game but it has a special place in my heart furever. although it's kinda sad like i low-key lost a piece of my identity there. i get distracted after playing the game for more than 30 minutes

i wanted to take a dark red theme with this icon set but yeah it's pretty lazy and not really that extravagant. just kidding I'm literally god and my creations are automatically better than everything

halfway through the event WOOOOOOOO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS G

[u5an5]

Of things obtained: Once Upon a Witchlight Ep. 3 | Let Them Eat Cake

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.

! Fair warning, this post contains SPOILERS. If you don't want to be spoiled, STOP READING !

.

Gricko

In possession from beginning:

Primal totems (gorilla, basilisk-esque creature; ep.1)

Alarm whistle (ep.1)

Glue dropper bottle

Eyedrops bottle

Items acquired:

Bag of 500 gold pieces (ep.1)

-3 for trying to make up making Red sad

Cloak of Displacement (ep.1)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1) 5/8

Sycamore seed 4 (ep.2; +1d4 for ability check until dawn)

Clothes:

Comically too big cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; blue-red)

Really small Tentacle Chad T-shirt

Pacts/contracts:

Hootsie

Items acquired:

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact; ep.2) 6/8

Clothes:

Cloth butterfly wings (pink; ep.2)

Pacts/contracts

Fey Pact 5: You must carry around a small pumpkin as though it were a precious egg (she holds it on her head). Once the Witchlight Monarch is crowned, all pacts made fade, and only then. (ep.2)

.

Gideon

In possession from beginning:

Items acquired:

3 letters from Mr. Roslov (ep.1)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1) 5/8

Sycamore seed 5 (ep.2; +1d8 for ability check until next dawn)

x5 Magical Cupcakes for winning the Cake Eating Contest

Each cupcake works like an invisibility potion. You must consume the entire cupcake for it to work.

Clothes:

Comically too small cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; red with orange rinds)

Cake Chad T-shirt about six sizes too small

Pacts/contracts:

.

Kremy

Languages: Common, Draconic

In possession from beginning:

Tophat

Cane

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

at least 2 handkerchiefs

Items acquired:

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1; misplaced it)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact; ep.2) 5/8

Satchel with Carnival map and Three Rules of Feywild (ep.2)

Sycamore seed 1 (trait "I am easily amused" until dawn; ep.2)

Clothes:

Cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; purple)

Pacts/contracts:

Due possessing unspecified knowledge he didn't pay for when he "abandoned his station" has to deliver 100,000 gold pieces to Mr. Garou by the end of the month (in next 19 days) as recompensation. If he's no longer able to do so by dying, the rest of the Krew is obligated to pay it (ep.1)

Fey Pact 8: You must declare your love for unicorns at every opportunity. Once the Witchlight Monarch is crowned, all pacts made fade then, and only then (ep.2)

.

Frost

In possession from beginning:

Backpack (ep.2)

Glue (totally not related to horses)

Glue antidote (got all used up to remove glue from Gricko)

Tambourine

Water skin

Items acquired:

Letter to Zybilna by Madrik Roslov (ep.1)

Bag of Beans (ep.1)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1) 5/8

Sycamore seed 7 (ep.2; it turns into:)

1 gold piece

Dandelion (ep.2; reward for catching Red's interest; blown away while making a wish)

Clothes:

Cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; jade with yellow eyes)

Pacts/contracts:

. .

Krew (The Party)

In possession from beginning:

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

Items acquired:

5 gold pieces (ep.2; for street-performing)

Pacts/contracts:

With Madrik Roslov: In exchange for checking if Zybilna is alright, and if true, giving her the letter he wrote, Party will get what is left from his possessions once he passes away (ep.1)

With Diana Cloppington - In exchange for riddle concerning Prismeer, with knowledge and information she was able to store about current state of it in it, Party promises to, at least, attempt to help her return to human and be reunited with Sir Cloppington; Not really Fey Pact but on their rules (ep.2)

Altered states:

Twist of Fate curses:

(Gricko) 12 - You are physically incapable of looking anyone directly in the eyes [1:40:48 - 1:57:00]

73 - You gain the beauty of the gods as long as you view yourself in a mirror. If not your beauty will corrupt into necrotic eldrich horror (failed) [1:50:40 - 1:57:00]

(Frost) 84 - All water tastes oily, including your saliva [1:40:50 - 2:02:41]

(Kremy) 9 98? - You are insatiably hungry and you eat and drink messily and noisily [2:02:25 -

To-do list:

Get the 100,00 gold pieces by the end of the month (ep.1)

Find out why Madrik Roslovs patron, Zybilna, stopped answering his calls for 15 years so he can die in peace, knowing her fate (ep.1)

Get to the Witchlight Carnival before it ends and find the only available entrance to Prismeer, Zybilnas domain (ep.1)

Try to become Witchlight Monarch (ep.1)

Find out who was the man that cut off Lexi Pott's wings, why he did that and what happened with them (ep.1)

Find a way to reunite Diana Cloppington with her with her horse, Sir Cloppington and return them to their previous forms (ep.2)

.

Time

3rd day of Campaign, less than 7 hours till Coronation - same day, some time later

9th of the month (19 days until The Debt deadline)

Happiness Meter

+1 - Party absolutely smashing competition in Cake Eating Contest

Total money: 505 gold pieces

Random Info

Man whose name Lexi Pott's was unable to say was going to "wake her" and was very scared for Party meeting him. When they mentioned name Zybilna, she said they "already were too deep" (ep.1)

After Lexi Pott died, Party was surounded by Fairy Ring made up from mushrooms (ep.1)

.

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[toiletphotoshoot]

I like how most iterations of Sycamore and Lysandre are close friends who genuinely care about each other. (If you look away from Lysandre’s plans cough cough he felt sad that he couldn’t bring Sycamore with him to his new world.)

But then the anime exists, where Sycamore absolutely hates Lysandre. And were one of the people who actively tried to murder him.

Pokeani Sycamore: Oh? Lysandre? No I hope he dies. I’m gonna go make out with Meyer now bye.

[headspace-hotel]

So growing up I heard these kinds of statements: "X number of species goes extinct every year" and "Most species that go extinct are undescribed/undiscovered"

And I could never really picture what that looked like. What species were going extinct? Where? Why? If they're undiscovered, how do we know about it? It's only recently that I've been able to understand.

This is an example:

Since European colonization, 99% of old growth forest in the eastern United States was cut down.

In Eastern Kentucky, the coal industry led to waste and rubble being dumped in valleys, literally burying countless mountain streams in gravel and toxic sludge.

Colonialism and exploitation moved faster than leaf-sketching and bug-collecting European naturalists did. It's very simple, and very sad. When the coal mines polluted the streams, many species of fish that only lived in one specific stream must have gone extinct. When Native Americans were forced off their lands, we can presume that rare plant species found in meadows, canebrakes and oaks savannas dependent on particular anthropogenic disturbances went extinct. When old-growth tracts were logged, God only knows how many lichens, mosses, ferns and plants went extinct because the trees they lived on were chopped.

We can extrapolate from the diversity in the fragments that remain, and the number of rare endemic species in especially isolated areas, and guess what probably existed in areas that were obliterated early on.

Keep in mind: All is not lost. New species are still being discovered.

The Bluegrass region of Kentucky was once called one of the most peculiar plant communities of the South—an eastern island of oak savanna with an understory of Arundinaria bamboo and legumes. Early European settlers reported that the ground was incredibly rich and covered with knee-high clover and dense thickets of "cane" (bamboo) that made navigation next to impossible.

Some people say the Bluegrass was always a forest and the savanna theory is wrong. Bullshit! I know this because of several reasons:

The earliest records don't mention any sycamores at all in the Bluegrass, whereas river cane (bamboo) was everywhere. Arundinaria bamboos are fire dependent species, whereas sycamore is HIGHLY intolerant of fire. From this we can infer that the area had a history of frequent burning.

Everyone in the Bluegrass knows about the Old Trees. In horse and cattle pastures in the Bluegrass region, you will sometimes see gigantic, twisted old oaks, with great spreading crowns. Nowadays you hardly see an oak that properly merits the term "gnarled," but the gnarl of the Old Trees is crazy. Just look up google images for Kentucky tourism and you'll see one of those huge trees in the background of several of the photos, I bet. Hardly anyone consciously thinks about it, but these are pre-colonization trees. And they are all obviously open-grown—their growth habit over the centuries has spread out, rather than grown straight up as in a forest.

Early colonizers' records report big walnut and cherry trees in the area. Most of the old houses in the area are made of walnut wood. Those are mid-successional species—you wouldn't find them dominating in an area that was heavily disturbed regularly and recently, they're trees, but you wouldn't find them in a forest that had been minimally disturbed forest for centuries either. The fact that they got huge suggests that a regular disturbance pattern of the Bluegrass region was abruptly interrupted and mostly ceased.

It was a pretty special place, a savanna environment with a mix of giant twisted oaks, rolling prairie hills and bamboo thickets, with deep sinkholes connecting the surface to subterranean cave ecosystems. In places the limestone bedrock reached the surface, creating limestone glades—unique desert-like habitats with many rare plants including Opuntia cactus.

It was also one of the first ecosystems west of the Appalachians to be destroyed by settlers.

BUT! Just a few years ago, we discovered Trifolium kentuckiense—Kentucky clover. A unique species of clover that has only been found in two spots in Central Kentucky.

This means the Bluegrass species that probably went extinct because their habitat was ignorantly logged, plowed and grazed before they were studied by European science may not be entirely gone.

We have been able to fund exhaustive inventories of potential holdouts for big flashy animals like the ivory-billed woodpecker, but so many people view the place they live as "boring" and thoroughly explored, when there could be surviving plants hanging out just about anywhere.

But...I don't think most people realize how much of the Holocene extinction has already happened. Most of the losses are plants and bugs that you never knew existed in the first place.

I feel like lots of people are anxiously waiting for the mass extinction to "start" hitting, but that's not quite right. European colonization of the globe WAS and *is* the mass extinction (combined with climate change which is very related). It's actively ongoing in the Global South. In eastern North America, the major wave of extinctions hit between 100 and 300 years ago.

I feel so much grief for all that was almost certainly lost forever, but I also recognize that I live in a unique period of time where the future can still be changed, and in particular, the heavily damaged ecosystems of the Southeast can be restored and used to absorb carbon from the atmosphere and provide resilience to the entire globe. And I strongly suspect at least a few mysterious new plants will start popping up once that happens...because a lot of plants stick around in the soil seed bank for a long, long time, and seeds can happen to be preserved by freak accident and then sprout later.

we (researchers, scientists, people who work in this field) will desperately need to consult tribal nations for this though because from my reading into it, we don't know what the fuck we're doing. The most basic things like controlled burns are still struggling to catch on and in some places just, spraying herbicides willy-nilly on invasive plants without understanding what makes them invasive.

[pokenimagines]

SFW | Leon | Fic

So, taking a bat to the canon timeline here for a second, how would Leon react to finding out that his crush/s/o was the trainer responsible for all times the world had to be saved bc some rich guy in a suit (or rich lady, looking at Lusamine) decided to terrorize the world with the power of a pokemon who has only been spoken of in legends and folktales? And at this point, they're just tired, they want to take a nap and have a good time exploring a region without all the drama.

I don't think I translated it being his crush/significant other very well. But here we go. You just being like "So this is my life." and Leon just being "Well...damn...aight."

Rules | Discord Server (16+)

SFW Leon: Over It

Leon could tell you were something special from the moment you two battled for the first time. It happened by change, in all honesty. He had been lost and you ended up being the one to find him. You had no clue who he was, but he could tell you were a trainer. You had that air about you, and he wanted to risk it all and just battle you...so that's what he did. Out in the wild area, just you two and your pokemon to bear witness.

Leon tasted defeat for the first time that day. You had swept his entire team with two of your pokemon. He was stunned silent before a grin broke out.

After that, he became a bit attached. He began asking questions and wanting to get to know you. You had started off being very reluctant to tell him anything, but overtime you warmed up to him. After he revealed he was actually the Champion of the region, you decided to reveal something about yourself.

"So you ever heard about the incident over in Kanto with Team Rocket?" You began asking him as you two walked the wild area together.

"Odd question, but ya. I recall my mom talking about the gang being taken down by some kid. They stole pokemon, right?" He asked and you nodded.

"That was me." You said, making him stop, "I had just turned ten and went on my pokemon journey. It was custom to do that when you were ten over in Kanto...a bit weird for other regions but that's how it was back then. I got roped up into everything and ended up taking down the leader."

"You...took down a criminal gang when you were ten?" Leon was in disbelief.

"Yup...and recall hearing about the battle of Hoenn? Where there were two groups that summoned legendary pokemon? One wanted to flood the world, while the other wanted to create more land?" You asked and Leon stopped.

"You did that too...?" He asked and you nodded.

"Yup. After the Kanto incident, my mom got worried and we moved. I wanted to take another crack at the gyms though, and she let me. I was about twelve when that went down." You explaiend.

"So you've taken down...three groups?" Leon swore you had to be joking.

"When I was fourteen I moved to Sinnoh, around the same time that the Team Galactic thing was going on. Fought them and Giratina was basically released and...well I almost died on that one. He was...terrifying." You explained and Leon stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"You can't be serious..." He said, almost looking sad.

"At sixteen my mom moved to live with our aunt. I really just wanted an adventure and decided to run off and do it, despite the dangers. Ran into Team Plasma who wanted to enslave the world. I did make a good friend though, his name is N. After that I was old enough to move around. Decided I wanted to study Mega Evolution and study under Professor Sycamore in Kalos. Stop the gym battling and everything, y'know? Wanted to throw myself in research...sadly Sycamore had a friend named Lysandre that dragged me into another unwanted adventure with Team Flare." Leon just stared at you.

"Finally I went on vacation to Alola and discovered Ultra Beasts and discovered Aether Foundation wasn't as benevolent as it seemed. Ended up helping a kid named Lillie out there. That was a wild adventure. Now I'm here though; Sycamore said that he wanted to go himself since I'm still his apprentice and learn about Gigantamaxing, but he had too much work. So he sent me." You said with a sigh.

"And now you're here..." Leon said and you nodded.

"Now I'm here. Was planning on just watching the gym challenges and maybe try one of those raid dens to see everything for myself after meeting Professor Magnolia...but then I ran into you and got sidetracked." You said with a sad smile. "Kinda just hoping to have a normal adventure for once."

"I can make that happen." Leon said, a sudden burst of energy coming over him, "I knew you were amazing but I didn't know to this extent...how about you do the gym challenge. If anything pops up, I can deal with it. That way you can finally just have a relaxed adventure." Leon said and you chuckled.

"If anything pops up?" You teased, "How bad do you think my luck is?"

"It's like my sense of direction." Leon was quick to respond.

"Ouch...but fine. I'll do the gym challenge and if any criminal organizations pop up, I'll call you to deal with it, aight?" You said, holding your hand out to shake on it. He took his hand in yours and gave you a firm shake.

"Let's have a champion time."

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• Thank you for reading! Did you know we have a discord? It has everything from RPs, General Discussions, and even an 18+ area to go hog wild in! We even do announcements early for when the inbox is opening for requests, as well as other events! Come in and join us!