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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

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Baby It's Cold Outside - Carlos Sainz x BulgarianOlympicSkiing! Reader

Plot: You take your new husband skiing with your friends Alexandra and Charles.

Credit to bjeanesthings for the GIF

"How do you do this as normal training baby! I can barley do it two winter breaks in a row!" Carlos shivers looking around as you strap your gloves on.

"Come on! I want to get to the big slopes early so I can practice! Then we can have fun with Charles and Alex!" you smile at your husband as you pull your snow boots on that were at the edge of the cabin.

"But Alex and Charles get a lay-in why don't i?" he complains pouting at you and giving you the puppy eyes.

"Because you decided to marry me, and that doesn't lead to lay-in's on a Ski holiday!" you giggle.

"Okay, but over the summer you are coming with me to Mallorca and we are having lots of cuddles and lay-in's and walks along the beach and lots of morning sex!" he grins cheekily making you slap his chest.

"Okay, well lets go Skapi!" you smile taking his hand.

You guys headed first to the large slopes where you could go down and practice for the Olympics that were to be held in Milan in 2026. You practiced for around an hour, going at high speed and cleaning up your turns and corners.

Then Carlos decided it was time to head back to the log cabin you guys were sharing with Alex and Charles and ask them if they wanted to join you for lunch. You took a leisurely ski through the wooded ski area that was just a general skiing area rather than the specific slopes used.

He reached out for you, holding your hand as you both used one pole to change your directions as needed.

"It's a really nice day today!" you say after pulling down the bandana you had wrapped around your mouth currently. Usually you'd wear a full balaclava but where you were skiing with friends you wanted to be able to talk to them without shouting.

"Yes, the sun is bright!" he says looking around the white snow that if you both took the skii masks off you'd for sure be blinded by the dazzling white expanse.

"Mmm, so how do you feel about the rest of the year?" you carefully ask your husband. You had tiptoed around the subject of him having to leave Ferrari. He understood why they'd jump at the opportunity to take on a 7x World Championship when this year they had a car that was consistent and contending with the Red Bull, that didn't mean it didn't hurt though. You'd only found out a few days ago from Charles himself.

He'd found a true friendship in Charles and Alex, just like he had done with Lando. It didn't mean he would no longer see Charles but they were arguably one of the best pairing on the grid when it came to team-work and wins.

"Well, Audi have said they'd like to take me on in 2026, but that would mean a year out. Red Bull have also spoke to me about removing Checo, but I want a championship and with Max as Red Bull golden boy I don't think it would be feasible. Then obviously there's Mercedes but their car was so bad this year, so it really depends!"

"Well, whatever happens you know you'll have me right?" you say, slowly coming to a halt and pull him into a hug.

"I don't know what the best decision is, but I'm just going to try perform my best this season with Ferrari!" he offers and you nod, pulling him in.

"If you do go with Audi and have an off season in 2025 that means we'll have the whole year together!" he smiles at what you just said.

"Mmmm maybe we can travel without the stress of me racing each time!" he grins pulling you in and kissing you, your masks clashing together making you both laugh.

You walk back in to the cabin to find Alex and Charles cuddles up on the sofa under a fluffy blanket.

"Hey guys, want to go get some lunch?" you ask looking around.

"How on earth do you survive with it this cold!" Alex shivers looking at the snow that falls off yours and Carlos' boots as you slip them off.

"You are all from warmer regions. Mediterranean people" you sigh with a small laugh.

"Sorry we aren't Slavic or Balkan like you and can hold up in your insanely cold winters, I'm guessing that's how you got into skiing?" Charles chuckles.

"Yeah, my dad would take me up the mountains each winter and go skiing! It's how I got into it competitively!" you smile, remembering all the memories from when you were younger.

"It's amazing what you've achieved not only for yourself but your country!" Alex smiles.

"Thank you guys! Going for Gold in 2026 though! You guys will come support me right?" you ask, already planning to give them VIP seats where they could watch from.

"Of course!" they all reply while Carlos comes behind you and picks you up throwing you over his shoulder and launching you onto the part of the sofa next to Charles.

"Carlos be careful" you laugh at him, holding one hand on your chest and another around his neck.

"Just an hour of chilling? Then we'll do lunch and more skiing?" he asks using those big brown eyes off his.

"Alright fine" you smile, pulling him in for a hug as you tune into the show Alex and Charles had on.

You could 100% get used to this life.

y/user

Like by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

y/user: Holiday with Ferrari Family! Forza Ferrari <3 also Charles stole my phone :<

Tagged 3 People

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scuderiaferrari: We love our Core 4! Happy Holidays!

carlossainz55: mi amor you showed us all up, don't recommend a Ski Holiday with a Silver Medalists!

-> fan1: I was at the slopes and saw her helping Alexandra, was the cutest

-> fan2: not mans complaining about his literal wife's achievements!

formulasantander: Alex and Y/N repping the red! We love to see it!

charles_leclerc: I look good no?

-> y/user: no lol, jk don't cancel me

alexandrasaintmleux: love you my best friend! <3 thank you for the ski lessons.

Instagram Story Caption:

Gang waiting on Carlos be like...

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 #cs55 fluff #cs55 fic #carlos sainz jr

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joels-darlin · 11 months

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Surprises

Pairings: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, mention of alcohol, mentions of stress.

Summary: Pedro has been planning something special which is finally revealed over your weekly Friday evening ritual.

Word count: 1402

Author Note: Little piece I've been working on for a short while. Debated not posting this the ending is pretty crap but hey ho here we go. Sorry it's not great. As usual any feedback is appreciated, enjoy <3 Posted on AO3

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Since the start of your friendship with Pedro, when he wasn’t away filming of course, Friday nights had been the one stable thing in your life. This consisted of sharing a bottle of wine (sometimes 2 depending on how the week went) out on the patio with a takeaway of choice. Losing count on how many times you had frequented his guest bedroom, Pedro not wanting you to be driving under the influence. Now that your friendship had progressed into a relationship nothing had changed, that time still reserved for just the two of you - except now spent cuddled under a blanket. It wasn’t hard to believe how it happened. All the years of built up feelings spilling out over (you guessed it) a bottle of wine one cool summers evening, the start of the relationship sealed with a kiss.

You where in the midst of wrapping up work for day in the office of your now shared home, Pedro asking you to move in after some time together, beaming with excitement for your week off but also your normal Friday night plans. A quick glance at the clock showing it was 6pm and after already working well over your normal hours, it was time to log off. You sent a brief message to you colleagues wishing them pleasant weekends - but also the reminder that you where on leave next week. Making sure to also set your emails to Out of Office mode, before shutting down the computer.

It seemed strange taking a random week off in the middle of the year, you usually saved any annual leave for Christmas time so you could travel to either see his or your family - rotating every year. It was only last month that Pedro suggested it whilst sitting down one evening to dinner at home. It was the one time he had a break in filming until the end of the year, so you agreed that it would be good to spend some time together.

Grabbing your phone from the charging stand noticing the screen littered with notifications - mostly messages from family members & friends. Scrolling to the bottom the one that caught your eye was from Pedro from an hour ago, swiping the screen to open the conversation.

P 💜 Just nipped out cariño, let me know if you need anything. I popped my head in earlier but you where engrossed in work. See you soon hermosa xx

Messaging back a quick response the phone then placed in the pocket of your shorts. Deciding on a shower before Pedro returned home you padded through the house to the bathroom, not forgetting to grab a towel from the cupboard on the way.

The sun was just starting to set as you took the usual spots on the couch outside, casting a glowing orange hue across the garden. The only background noise being the ruffling of the tree leaves, caused by the light breeze in the air, and the random music playlist that was playing on the outside speakers. You sighed in contentment as he reached over to pour a large serving into the empty glasses that lay on the table. “For you mi amor” he said softly, holding out the glass, you thanked him lifting the glass to your lips for a small sip before setting it down on the table. Already feeling slightly tipsy from the bottle of wine you had consumed with dinner you made a mental note to take it slowly with this one. He settled back into the couch again, arm slung across your shoulders, you curled into his side appreciating the warmth radiating off his body in the cool evening.

The general chatter was flowing easily with you discussing how both your weeks had gone as well as sharing a few funny stories and awful jokes from Pedro’s end. It was quite the romantic setting, taking moments in between conversation to steal a few soft and slow kisses - mostly just appreciating each others company. It was nice to just switch off and forget about the stresses of everything, you hadn’t failed to miss Pedro’s brows furrowing with concern and pulling you little closer when you mentioned that you had a lot on your plate at the moment, regards to your job. Making a promise to push it to be back of your mind so you can finally enjoy a week off together.

“So…I have a surprise for you, let me go grab it quickly” he said untangling from your embrace before walking back inside the patio doors. Pedro re-appeared a few minutes later clutching 2 white envelopes, taking the seat beside you. “This one is first” He grinned handing over one of the envelopes, shooting him a mysterious look. You sort of hated but also loved surprises, he knew that, and prayed that he hadn’t of gone out of his way to spend a fortune on you again. The excuse always being “Well I like treating my girl”.

Sliding your finger under tab you carefully prised open the envelope, careful not to rip the contents, pulling out a folded sheet of white paper. Unfolding it carefully, taking a moment to read it’s contents. “Wait…P…what” you gasped, bringing a hand to cover your mouth in shock. There in back and white, the details of two flight tickets back to your home. “You where probably wondering why I asked you to take a random week off I have been planning this for awhile, I thought we could take a vacation and go visit your family…” he explained. “…It’s just you have been looking a little down recently and thought this might give you a pick me up” his free hand dropping to caress your thigh softly. “I-P-thankyou” moving your eyes from the paper to look into those soft brown orbs, tears threatening to spill from your own. He smiled softly. “That’s not the only thing…” placing the second envelope in your lap “Open this” he grinned excitement present in his voice.

Picking up the second envelope with shaking hands. Pedro obviously noticed this moving his arm to snake around your waist fingers grazing softly over some exposed skin; a calming gesture. You made quick work of the seal then unfolded the second sheet of paper, scanning it’s contents. Was this really happening? How had he managed it? Two tickets to see your favourite artist at the arena back home.

“Oh. My. God. P-What-” and that was it the flood gates opened, tear tracks staining your cheeks. “Oh sweetheart, I hope those are happy tears” he cooed pulling you into his embrace, placing a kiss on your hair. Pedro knew when the tickets released months ago you had tried and tried to get your hands on some - eager to see the artist live again. After pulling a few strings with his agent and a shift around in schedule he not only managed to bag 2 VIP tickets but also some well needed downtime - which is when the idea came into play about visiting your family. The concert being something you two would also attend whilst over there. It had all fell into place superbly. Taking a moment to compose yourself then you leaned up looking into his eyes. “But-how? I tried but-just Thankyou P, I-I don’t know what to say”“ stuttering to form any coherent sentences, instead deciding to lean over and press a soft kiss on his lips which he happily reciprocated. “Anything for you mi querida” he whispered against your lips, moving to kiss the tip of your nose softly. You pulled back to scan the papers again. “Wait-” you exclaimed eyes scanning the dates, “We-we leave tomorrow?”. He hummed and nodded in response to the question, draining the last of his wine glass and placing it on the table. “Come on querida we have some serious packing to do” Pedro grinned, standing up from the couch he extended his hand which you took intertwining both your fingers. You giggled following suit to stand a moment after, hands still laced together. “Lead the way then mi amor”. In the blink of an eye you where being pulled (gently of course) through into the house and up the stairs, the sounds of both your laughter filling the rooms as you collapsed on the bed. Absolutely no worries in the world enjoying a moment; just the two of you.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro x reader

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teamhappyme · 5 months

Text

it's time to go

josh lyman x female!reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: my condensed rant at how the women are treated in the west wing, what is a timeline/plot

a/n: logging on to post a fic and then fall off into the abyss where there is no motivation or inspiration flowing! this has been sitting in my drafts for two years, folks. finally got the inspo to finish this generalized west wing fic-turned josh lyman reader core done! i hopee you all can indulge in this as much as i did :) (yes another taylor swift inspired title you can take them from my cold dead hands-)

~~~

There is a constant buzz that lives in the west wing.

If it’s not the white house staff and all the varying levels of personnel making noise, it’s the conference room meetings that hold everyone in D.C. trying to influence the white house and the American people.

Normally, the buzz is comforting to you. In the middle of the communications department, you all thrive on it. But the last twenty four hours had reached a level of mayhem that not even you guys could spin into a positive narrative.

You accompanied Toby to CJ’s second brief of the night, trying to inform the press on the situation in Haiti while attempting to dodge any questions about the MS shock and reelection campaign.

CJ was losing control of the group. She was shuffling papers, removing sticky notes, adjusting her glasses, all in an attempt to keep herself somewhat grounded from the chaos at hand. You sensed Toby tense up as a member of the press pushed and pushed, asking his third follow up question.

And that’s when it all came crashing down.

CJ flew off the podium and you and Toby followed after her.

“Did she just say the President is relieved to send troops into Haiti?” Sam asked as he joined you in the hallway, waiting outside of CJ’s office. “Relieved to put American lives and Haitian civilians at risk?”

“I was standing right there!” Toby shouted back and you flinched. This certainly was not the good buzz you wanted.

Before they could continue yelling at each other, the door to the briefing room slammed against the wall, CJ rubbing her hands over her face and turned to find the three of you standing there.

“CJ,” Toby started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Just don’t say anything! Just… don’t say anything.” You all gave her a moment to regroup before she began walking back to her office.

Your two bosses stood in the middle of the hallway, not knowing what on earth to do next, other than duck and cover from Leo once he heard what happened.

“They’re gonna need extra hands for damage control.” Sam turned to you, and you nodded.

“I’m on it. I started drafting notes for an apology statement,”

“Apology?” Toby asked, voice still an octave louder than you liked, directed to you.

“I told her to.” Sam added, and you watched the look the two of them shared. They sure had some things to discuss. “We’ll talk about them later. Just, make sure they are clear about what CJ meant. Redirect as much as you can without stepping on any toes.”

“Got it.”

You pushed your stack of papers into Sam’s hands and made your way to the press offices. Phones were ringing off the hook, aides scrambling from desk to desk, as Josh stepped in beside you.

Before either of you could reach CJ’s office, she slammed the door, rattling a few frames on the wall.

“Well, we’re just getting started aren’t we.”

“Happy Thursday.” you added as he walked back toward his office. You looked out over the war room and locked eyes with Carol. She let out a breath before meeting you at her desk.

“Heard there’s a bit of a situation going on. Where do you need me?”

You’re not sure if it’s still Thursday by the time you leave the press office. It’s still dark out; you haven’t eaten anything besides Carol’s desk mints and you need a nap. Desperately.

You walked through the bullpen to Josh’s office, your final memo delivered before you could put the events of the last day and a half to rest - at least for the next six hours. You checked in with Sam one final time, making sure your absence today didn’t put him any further behind. (Of course it did, but he’d never tell.)

Donna wasn’t at her desk, and the rest of the bullpen was empty save for Josh pacing around his office while reading over a document. You waited until he stopped moving, scribbled something on the paper, and stuck the pen back in his mouth to knock on the opened door.

His eyes shot up, meeting yours for a quick second before he began pacing once again.

You’ll take that as a ‘come in.’

“7:00 a.m. briefing notes, CJ wanted you all to take a look at them before morning.” You handed him the paper, skimming it before he went back to his thick document. “Carol says all they are waiting on is an update on Haiti from the situation room. They assume they won’t get that information until-”

“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow.” He interrupted, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m sorry?” you questioned.

“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow. She has the information and will get the Haiti update by 5:00.”

Taking a second to recover your thoughts and do a double take at your own copy of the memo, you couldn’t help but question the man in front of you.

“Why are you benching CJ?”

“No one’s benching CJ. Leo made the decision to have Nancy give the brief on Haiti. I mean, she seems pretty qualified to give the brief being the President’s National Security Advisor, but I could be wrong. She just bribed me with some bagels to give her the opportunity.”

“Don’t you think CJ deserves to do her job?”

“She said the President was relieved to send troops into Haiti.”

“She made a mistake,” You argued, and you could feel the anger starting to spew out of you.

“Yeah, and unfortunately she made it in front of the press and during broadcasted briefing.”

“CJ used one wrong word and she’s getting hanged for it.” You dropped the stack of memos onto Josh’s desk, his full attention now on you.

“CJ is the press secretary, she is the line of communication from the President to the public.”

“And you’re the Deputy Chief of Staff, and Toby is the Communications Director, and Sam is the Deputy Communications Director, and-”

“What’s your point?” He interrupted, running a hand through his annoying, unkempt hair.

You scoffed. “What’s my point? As the Deputy Chief of Staff, you went on Capitol Beat and slammed Mary Marsh while simultaneously ridiculing every person of faith in the United States. You also went in front of the same White House Press Corps and stated that the President had a secret plan to fight inflation when he obviously did not. As the Communications Director, Toby was accused of insider trading. Finally, as the Deputy Communications Director, Sam slept with a prostitute, and instead of staying away from her like all of the senior staff advised, including Leo, he was photographed with her, which could have caused a major PR crisis for us to fix.”

“I thought you were in favor of Laurie and Sam’s relationship, prostitutes shouldn’t be discriminated against.” He added with a smirk.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“You listing all of the mistakes we’ve made as we work in the most powerful building in the world? Yes, I do.”

You crossed your arms in defiance, fighting back frustrated tears. He wouldn’t get it.

“CJ has stood at that podium over the last twenty six hours taking shit from the press on the President’s diagnosis. She chooses the wrong language once, and Toby is yelling at her while Leo shoves her in the corner.”

He let out a sigh, trying to choose his next words carefully.

“It’s her job to get the language right-”

“For fucks sake Josh, this isn’t about her damn job! It’s about every single woman in this building working their ass off, taking the hits for their bosses, for the men in this administration without as much as a thank you. How many times has Donna been on the receiving end of phone calls from angry senators, stayed late to make sure she proofread your memos, sacrificed her free nights to lobby and push your policy on people? And how many times have you thanked her for it? I sit in the communications bullpen and hear Toby shout for Ginger, Bonnie, and me dozens of times a day. I see, first hand, the scrutiny that CJ is under every time she has to defend policy to the press. And don’t think I don’t understand that we all signed up for these roles. We all knew what we were getting into, we all knew the hierarchy of the west wing. We knew we weren’t going to be praised for our contributions, no matter how big or small. But none of us expected to be benched for doing our job, for telling the truth of a man that is too scared to say it himself.”

Josh’s eyes widened at your casual tone and bold statement. You knew you were crossing the line.

“You’re talking about the President, keep your voice down.”

“Why? Everyone is thinking the same thing. He’s hiding behind Haiti, he’s hiding behind CJ, and he’s hiding behind this damn white house!”

Josh moved around you, going to shut the door in hopes that no one heard you. But a foot propped the door open, and in walked a still irritable Toby.

“I sure as hell hope that wasn’t the President you were having a public outburst about in his goddamn west wing,” Toby exclaimed, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“Toby,” Josh tried to interject, but you were ready to finally give everyone a piece of your mind.

“It sure as hell was. And I’ll repeat it for anyone that wants to hear it, in fact, why don’t we all just march down to the Oval office and tell the man causing all these problems himself how we really feel. Or am I the only one with the balls to say it?”

Josh had to physically stop you from leaving his office, holding onto your shoulder as you could practically see the smoke leaving Toby’s ears.

“You sure as hell don’t have enough seniority to command a meeting in the Oval!” Toby yelled out, landing another low blow to your ego. Josh’s hand tightened on your shoulder as you fought back the tears desperately trying to form in your eyes. But you wouldn’t give Toby the satisfaction. “So suck it up, and wait for us to tell you what the hell to write to get us out of this situation.”

You shook Josh’s hand off your shoulder as you took another step closer to Toby.

“I’m not writing a single word until I get to talk to the President.”

“Get the hell out of my bullpen, you’re done tonight.” Toby seethed, clearing the way for you to leave.

You didn’t think twice. You walked past the two of them, not a care in the world at the fact you just told off two of the most powerful people in the White House, potentially risking your job in the process.

The buzz followed you through the halls to the communications bullpen, walking past Ginger and Bonnie who were wrapping up phone calls at their desks. Sam yelled out to you from his office, but you kept your head down and kept walking.

It wasn’t until you walked past the Roosevelt room, locking eyes with Donna as she sat with papers spread out in front of her, red markings all across the pages, that it hit you. She gave you a small smile, her eyes quickly turning to concern as you felt the tears threaten to fall.

You quickly walked to the exit, brushing past the security guards and stepping into the spitting night rain. The air was cold, and it felt like a shock to your system.

What the hell have you done.

You barely made it fifty feet before you heard someone calling your name, heavy footsteps running toward you.

You turned to find Josh, coat in hand, approaching you outside the White House.

“Wait a second,” Josh said as he finally stood in front of you, draping your coat around your shoulders. You didn’t even realize you were shivering.

“I need to go,” you said, embarrassment and anger still seeping through you.

“We need to talk about what just happened. It’s been a long, hectic night-”

“Josh, you’re not going to talk me out of my own words.” You interrupted him. “I meant everything I said in there, and I’ve been feeling that way for a while. No amount of talking is going to change what I think, or what Toby thinks. It’s done.”

“We can fix it, please-”

“Nothing is going to change!” You exclaimed as your arms raised in frustration. “The only way this goes away is if I go back in there with my tail tucked between my legs and suck up to Toby. I’m not going to kiss the ring and pretend I’m okay with what’s going on in there. And if that’s the job now, I don’t want it.”

“It’s always been the job, the President's policies and opinions are our policies and opinions.”

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re in the room where it happens. And quite frankly, I’m sick of taking the hit for men who can’t help themselves.” you said and continued walking further away from the White House.

“It must be lonely up there on your high horse, pointing your finger at everyone who has what you want!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” you whipped around to face him, finding him closer than he was before. You hated that he was looking down at you, both in height and pity. “And of all the people in that fucking building, it should have been you to understand why I feel this way.”

The two of you stood incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the next move. It had been like this between the two of you for months; push and pull, give and take, waiting for someone to crack and push the boundary wide open. No one knew how to get you to open up like Josh, and no one made him as flustered as you. And still, it all ended like this.

He looked down at your hands, clenched into fists at your sides, and he slowly reached out to grab them. But you couldn't let it happen this time. You took a step back, and both of you tensed up again.

“It’s time for me to go.” Physically, mentally, all of it. It was time for you to leave the white house.

Josh nodded, fighting the urge to continue to try and get you to stay. Instead, he rested his hands on the lapel of your jacket, pulling it tighter around you for the final time. You refused to look up at him, knowing you would give in just like all those times before.

He gave you a small nod once he was ready to finally let you go.

“I’ll see you around.”

*****

It’s been three days since the MS scandal completely shook the nation.

You haven’t left your apartment since that day, avoiding phone calls from everyone in the west wing.

Sam had left voicemail after voicemail, begging you to tell him why you haven’t been to work. Toby refused to tell him what happened, but he knew it had something to do with that night. Not even endless compliments on your prose and speeches from Sam could get you to crawl back there. He gave up after his sixth message.

There was a pile of unopened mail sitting on your kitchen table, along with empty take out containers and a bottle of wine - there may even be a copy of your law school application in the mix, a pity read or two occurring in a drunken haze.

Later that night, after dodging another phone call from Donna and attempting to get as much of your life together as you could, you gave in and sat down to watch CJ’s nine o’clock press brief. You were glad to see that she was off the bench again, and seemed to be back to her usual self.

There was a knock at your door as she opened up for questions, and you hated to think you missed the sound of the press gaggle.

You swung your door open, expecting a large pizza to be shoved into your face, but instead an exhausted Josh Lyman was standing at your door.

“Hi,” he said and began cracking his knuckles. “I would’ve called, but you seem to forget how the phone works.”

“I know how the phone works.” you replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” you sighed. “I walked all the way here, please take pity on me.”

“Fine.” You opened up your door, mostly to shut him up, and ushered him into your home.

“Glad to see you cut yourself off from us completely.” He jeered and pointed to the press briefing on the TV. “You know I’m the one that suggested she make the joke about Hungary, so they should be laughing for me.”

“What did you come here for, Josh?” you asked, again, trying to redraw the boundary between you two.

“Ginger and Bonnie kept saying you were sick, and since no one else heard from you, thought I would check in to see if you were alive. You look pretty not sick to me.”

“Josh-“

“We need you back in the west wing. Toby and Sam are at each other's throats and we need a speech for our first campaign stop. If you don’t get back to the bullpen I’m afraid we’ll never see the written word again.”

“I don’t-”

“I’m not beyond begging or bribing to get you back in there tomorrow morning.” He couldn’t help but smile at himself as he shrugged off his coat and sat down at the kitchen table. You tried not to notice how soft he looked in jeans and a sweater. “But you’re not getting my office, or my secretary, or my season tickets to the capitals. I will however put up Sam’s season tickets to-“

“I wrote my letter of resignation, Josh. I’m not coming back.”

You sat down next to him as you watched him freeze, eyes widening the slightest bit. Rendering Josh speechless never gets old, even under these circumstances.

“Toby’s not going to fire you, he was just pissed off the other night. C’mon, if we head down there now I’m sure he’s still there slaving away over this speech-“

“I didn’t write this because I was afraid of getting fired. This is my choice, Josh. I’m choosing to leave the White House.”

You handed him the letter, and he took it with some hesitation. He spent a few minutes reading it, and then rereading it, shaking his head before throwing it back on the table.

“Why?” Was all he asked as he pulled his chair closer to you. You shook your head, not wanting to get into it. He leaned back in his chair, staring at your letter on the table.

“Josh, I’ve spent too much time helping people, specifically men, climb up the political totem pole. I’m tired of writing speeches and bills for someone else to say. I’ve been burned by too many men in my life to be naive enough to be comfortable in one place.”

He moved to pick up the letter, or so you thought, but instead he picked up your law school application.

“Since when have you been interested in law school?” He asked, flipping through the pages of the Georgetown Law School application.

“Since forever,” you said, suddenly growing quiet under the scrutiny of his eyes on your application; your essay was practically a diary about your time working in the west wing. “I couldn’t afford to go after I graduated from UVA, and my parents weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a girl lawyer in the family. So, I settled and started working on the campaign trails. I think you know the rest from there.”

Josh didn’t say a word in response, you’re not entirely sure he even heard a word you just said. Instead his eyes were darting across the page, flipping page after page to finish reading your essay. Josh had never read your personal work; sure you’ve written dozens of memos and speeches that he had proofed and listened to, but nothing with your voice. Nothing that showcased your intelligence, your compassion, and dedication to learning to improve not only yourself, but the world around you.

It was making you anxious the more he read and the less he spoke. Was it bad? Did he think you were absolutely insane for thinking you could go to law school? You need to get it out of his hands before it completely changes the way he sees you.

“I know it’s a long shot that they would accept me, I haven’t even decided if I’m actually going to apply or not, so-” you tried to take it out of his hands, but he grabbed your wrist before you could reach it.

“They would be absolute fools not to accept you.” he said, slowly lowering your arm back to your lap, not letting go of you yet. “The west wing is going to fall apart without you.”

“You guys will be just fine without me.” you started and rolled your eyes. “Toby has an ego, and a vocabulary, big enough for ten speechwriters. And, I haven’t gotten in yet.”

“You will. And Toby’s ego, no matter how large, will never fill the hole you’re leaving.”

He maneuvered his hand away from his wrist down to your hand, and watched as he laced his fingers with yours. You let out a breath as he rested them on his knee, slowly bringing you closer together.

“So, will you accept my letter of resignation now that you know the full story?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Josh-”

“I have a stipulation to the letter.” he interrupted, the smirk returning to his face. “You stay on until we win re-election, and take on a very part-time consulting position once school starts. You deserve to see this through, and we can’t part with you any sooner.”

How the hell does anyone say no to Josh Lyman? Between his annoyingly handsome signature smirk, his warm brown eyes, and his messy hair, he’s a total heartthrob. But you seemed to have some effect on him too, seeing as he hasn’t let go of you just yet.

“That sounds like a plan, only if you and Toby agree to write me the best recommendations Georgetown has ever seen.”

“I can deliver on Toby, but I’m not so sure I can give you what you’re looking for. I may have a conflict of interest,” he said and squeezed your hand, causing you to laugh. “But I have the next best thing, the President of the United States on speed dial.”

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” His smile spread over his entire face now. “And thank you, for believing in me. And not firing me last night.”

“Well, you were right. A little outspoken, but nothing worse than what Toby has said to the President himself. There’s going to be some change in the west wing now, thanks to you.”

“Who knew all it took to get something done in this city is to have a temper tantrum?”

“Almost every politician in Congress,” Josh added before being interrupted by his pager. His face fell the slightest bit as he let out a sigh. “It’s Leo.”

“Back to work?”

“A crisis awaits,” he said, letting go of your hand as he shrugged his coat back on. Your fingers flexed against your side, already missing the warmth of Josh’s hand in yours. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Bright and early,” You replied as you walked him to the door. “With a desk full of notes from Sam, I’m sure.”

“Oh if only we could all be so lucky.” He joked, as the two of you lingered in the doorway to your apartment. You really didn’t want him to go. “I’ll brief you in the morning, hopefully nothing too serious.”

“Okay. Um, drive safe.” You stumbled over your words, and you didn’t miss the way his dimple jumped out at your expense.

“I will. Have a good night.”

“Night,” you mumbled back, watching as his eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second before taking his first step back from you.

“Josh,” you choked out, and he turned back to face you in seconds. He waited for you to say something, but for once in your life, nothing came to mind.

“Cat got your tongue?” He jeered. You hated that he had this effect on you. And he was reveling in it.

“It’s all your fault, you know. Dropping the whole ‘conflict of interest’ bit, and then leaving without any explanation.”

“I’m sorry, let me be a little more clear.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“Such a charmer,” you whispered as he dipped his head down, and finally kissed you.

His lips were softer than you imagined, slowly moving against your own. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this moment before, but it was surpassing everything you thought it would be. Josh was always gentle with you, and he kissed you just the same. He took his time with you, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the feel of his body against yours.

He was the first to pull away, resting his forehead on yours as you caught your breath.

“I think that made it very clear how much I like you.”

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

“I like you too.” You replied, placing a light kiss on his jaw before pulling back to get another look at him, dimples on display.

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m never going to make it back to the White House,” he joked, and you shoved his chest.

“Then get out of here, Josh. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You smiled as he leaned in to kiss you once more, teasing you as he pulled away, leaving you chasing his lips. You placed one more chaste kiss on his lips before letting go of him.

“Goodnight,” he said, gently squeezing your hand before finally walking down the hall. “I’ll be sure to tell Sam I cured you back to health.”

“In your dreams, Lyman.”

*****

#josh lyman x female!reader #josh lyman x reader #josh lyman fic #josh lyman #the west wing #the west wing fic

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watatsumiis · 2 years

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Been walking around a lot today so I figured I'd write about some headcanons about walking with some of my faves!

Going to upload this in a few parts (about 4-5 characters in each one!)

Characters: Albedo, Al Haitham, Ayato, Capitano, Childe, Dottore,

Gender neutral reader (referred to as 'you'), platonic friendships with the listed characters (unless you consider handholding to be inherently romantic), just some cutesy bits about walking around with them!

Albedo enjoys quiet on his walks, he stops a lot to look at things that interest him, to take notes and the like. He walks at a bit of a meandering pace, with you by his side. I imagine that he can be a little touch averse so he's not super into the idea of holding hands or anything like that, but he'll call you over every now and then to look at something of interest, he won't make you feel silly for asking questions, he's super kind and gentle when explaining things when he's got a low-effort whole body activity like walking to do at the same time!

Al Haitham is a fast walker, he'd probably leave you in the dust without realising. He can be a little flighty/unsure about walking somewhere without a set destination in mind, but after a few walks he begins to notice that taking a break from his studies to get outside and walk about really does help him let out some of that anxious energy. He's probably also kind of touch averse (especially on hotter days) but he might be okay holding hands every now and then, especially if you're somewhere crowded or busy.

Ayato doesn't often get time off to just wander around aimlessly, so he revels in going on nice long walks - especially in places that aren't very crowded, he loves nature walks especially. He almost subconsciously offers him arm out for you to take when the terrain underfoot gets rocky or uneven because he's just a gentleman like that. He's a fast walker, but a steady one - I'd imagine that while he doesn't love crowds, he's a very good person to walk behind when there are a lot of people bustling about simply because of how much of a presence he holds, both in terms of his physical height and appearance and his high-ranking status as the Yashiro Commissioner! He'll definitely treat you to boba and snacks if you're out at the markets!

Capitano goes on a lot of walks, he's a very physically fit person so his morning routine probably consists of like a 2 hour jog or something intense like that. He's not very talkative, he's more of the 'silent company' type, where you both just walk side by side, but he'll stop and listen to you if you have something you want to say or point out. He won't actively seek out physical contact, but he won't actively oppose it if you initiate it, he's kind of laid back in that way. He's very pleasant to walk with I think, he'll contently listen to you as you ramble on about whatever is on your mind.

Childe is like a little kid, darting about a few paces ahead of you as he checks out every single little thing - he loves walking around markets or forested areas, anywhere where there's lots of things to look at and keep him entertained. If you turn your back for a few moments he's just suddenly run off to go talk to some random merchant or investigate a funky looking rock. He can and will just randomly grab your arm and drag you over to look at something he finds interesting. He also has no qualms about holding your hand and using you like a living, breathing fidget toy.

Dottore likes to observe - both you and the environments around you. He's big on people watching and will point out when he sees others doing strange or interesting things and come up with theories as to why they may be doing those things. Walks with him are pretty quiet at first as he acclimates himself to your walking routine, learns what your 'normal' patterns and such -- I imagine he can be very routine-oriented when he's doing things such as this, wanting to focus more on your habits and how you do certain things so he can log it. He'll let you do what you like, which includes holding hands or linking arms, but if you change things up from your normal routine he'll want to know why.

I reckon I'll do some more later, if you have any characters you'd like to see me write some headcanons for with this prompt, please feel free to send me an ask, anon or not and I'll see what I can do!

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rebeccathenaturalist · 1 year

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Farewell to an Old Cedar–and Hello to a New One

Originally posted to my blog at https://rebeccalexa.com/farewell-to-an-old-cedar-and-hello-to-a-new-one/

Last Wednesday I had the opportunity to do some volunteering with Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. As the weather has finally turned better, with some warm, sunny days mixed in with the rain, it’s made conditions more favorable to getting outside. So when I got the email asking if I wanted to help plant some cedar trees, I jumped at the chance.

Western red cedar (Thuja plicata) is my very favorite tree. It’s not a true cedar, instead being a member of the cypress family Cupressaceae. But there’s something about the red-tinted bark powdered with Cladonia lichens, and the flat, scaly green needles that appeals to me. Maybe it’s because it’s some of the best of the coloration of Pacific Northwest forests all wrapped in one tree. Or perhaps it’s because I loved eastern red cedar (Juniperus virginiana) so much as a child, and I’ve just developed a fondness for cedars that aren’t actually cedars.

We have only a few tiny patches of old-growth forest here in the extreme southwest corner of Washington, mostly populated with ancient cedars and a few very old Sitka spruce (Picea sitchensis). My first real look at old-growth forest here was Teal Slough, a section of Willapa NWR that protects 140 acres. These ancient trees very nearly ended up logged a few decades ago, but for the heroic efforts of historian Rex Ziak. In the pre-internet times he spent months tracking down the then-corporate owners of this tract of land, and managed to convince them to cease logging with a letter, a photograph, and a rope loop the same circumference as one of these massive old cedars. (It’s a pretty incredible story that I got to hear him tell in person at Wings Over Willapa a few years ago.)

It really was at the eleventh hour, though. One of the first things an astute naturalist will notice when arriving at Teal Slough is that almost all of the trees are either very old–or very young. That’s because the undergrowth had been bulldozed in preparation for chopping down the couple dozen big trees left. It’s rebounded in recent years, but there are tons of scrawny young western hemlock trees (Tsuga heterophylla) along with a scattering of young cedars.

Adding more cedars was our original goal for that morning, which was cool but sunny. We brought ten young trees with us, but stopped at the old Refuge headquarters just down the road from Teal Slough. It turned out that the place we were originally going to plant them was where the old logging road cut through, and the heavy gravel made digging by hand impossible. So we planted eight to create a windbreak at the old HQ, which is itself going through a slow metamorphosis, and tucked the other two back into the truck.

And then it was time to head to Teal Slough itself. While we couldn’t plant trees, we could still pick up debris from the storms that came through. The bigger branches and fallen saplings made good material for outlining the trails, making them more visible to visitors. While the old logging road is pretty obvious, some of the footpaths that diverge off the main trail to showcase big trees further back in the woods were getting tougher to discern. So we spent some time lining them with some of the windfallen materials.

But I also want to touch on the original reason we were slated to go out there that day. See, those young cedars were originally going to be used to help start to close off the last hundred feet or so of the trail. This last bit leads down to one of the biggest of the cedars at Teal Slough, and–to be quite honest–my favorite.

As it turns out, she’s not doing so well. She’s been rotted out inside for some time; this is normal, of course; in many cases an old tree can survive its heartwood rotting away completely, since that wood is dead. But this old cedar has been beginning to lean noticeably toward the northwest in recent months. There’s no disruption at ground level yet, no cracks in the earth or roots bursting forth to the surface. A Refuge employee was on the trail a few months ago during one of the vicious windstorms we’ve had over the winter, and he noticed this tree swaying more than usual.

We don’t know when she’ll fall. It might be later this year; it might not be for another century. But it was decided that the trail to her should be closed off just in case she came down when there were people around. A massive tree of this size would be quite a danger indeed; the day after our volunteering a logger was killed in the Willapa Hills after being hit by a much smaller tree. Even a section of this tree coming down at the wrong time could be disastrous. And beyond a certain size there’s really no way to buttress such an enormous thing, especially when it’s located on a slope of super-saturated soil.

We walked down the trail to where she still stood with her much younger hemlock “buddy tree” growing out of her side; many of the old cedars have similar hemlock companions. It was apparent she was listing more than I had seen her in the past, and there seemed to be a little more space between her and her hemlock. We all spoke of how magnificent she was, and how sad that it seemed she was nearing her end.

I lingered behind for a moment while everyone else moved the “End of Trail” sign back up to where the path would be cut off. It was my last moment to be up close and personal to this beautiful old cedar. While technically, yes, I could still steal up the path before it was completely planted or fenced or however the Refuge will eventually close it, I respect their decision and decided this would be my farewell. I told the tree how much I had enjoyed visiting her, and thanked her young hemlock as well. I touched the lichens that adorned her furrowed bark, and looked up at the broken crown of branches at her top.

Then I turned, with many glances backwards at a Eurydice I would never be able to bring home. I dragged with me a young alder that had fallen in a storm, and added it to the small pile of branches placed across the trail as a temporary barrier. And we headed back down to the road, with the sound of a pileated woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus) rapping high overhead, and a rough-skinned newt (Taricha granulosa) waiting for us at the trailhead.

I don’t know when the old cedar will finally fall over, but when she does her death will not be in vain. Like all fallen trees, the countless molecules she accumulated over a millennium of life will slowly start to disperse throughout the forest through the actions of detritivores and decomposers. She will feed bacteria and fungi, insects that then become food for birds, and a whole host of plants that will make use of the vast stores of nutrients she holds, and the sunlight that her passing will reveal to the forest floor. Nothing ever goes to waste in a forest, not least of all a fallen tree.

As we drove back down 101 toward the new headquarters, I gave a glance to where we had planted the young cedars. I would never live to see them achieve that great stature; in fact, not all of them may even make it to maturity, especially if cedar die-back continues in our too-hot summers. But it is hope that allows me to continue to plant new things amid loss. I cannot help but try, even against the odds. And I can do two things at once: I can mourn the eldest of the trees as she makes her literal last stand, and I can also loosen the soil for one of her relatives to set roots and grow.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#Pacific Northwest #PNW #Washington #Washington State #western red cedar #old growth forest #forests #Thuja plicata #nature #environment #conservation #trees #Willapa National Wildlife Refuge #wildlife refuge #volunteering

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fateisnotafactor · 16 days

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Why not just throw part 2 here while I'm at it? Just throwing these on Tumblr as I write, I'll probably clean it up and throw it on AO3 when I get to it.

Continuation of whatever got into my head yesterday, <800 words. (Part 1)

Three days later Shouta and Hizashi are pulling up outside your apartment complex in their SUV. The vehicle is already weighed down with gear, but with a bit of Tetris, Shouta finds a place for your things. Your tent, backpack, sleeping bag are loaded into the back with everything else and Hizashi is already holding open the door and helping you into the back seat.

He doesn’t need to, but he buckles you into the seat, smoothing the strap across your chest as he murmurs a sleepy hello for the fifth time.

“He’s really not a morning person,” Shouta says, dragging the blond away from you and shoving him into the passenger seat. “Hope he didn’t cross any lines, he’s a bit of a cuddle bug,” he adds, smirking as even the mention of the word ‘bug’ causes a shiver to rush through his partner.

You don’t catch it though. You’re too busy rummaging through your bag to grab a quick granola bar to snack on. “You don’t mind if I eat in here, do you?” you ask, the wrapper already torn open, so used to your friend’s crumb-filled car, it didn’t even occur to you how spottless the vehicle was.

“Shou doesn’t mind, just don’t make a mess,” Hizashi says. He yawns loudly as he drops the back of his seat so that his head is just inches from your lap.

You jump a little at the sudden movement, but laugh when he breaks off a piece of your granola bar for himself sending a few crumbs raining down on him.

“As I recall, the only one who makes a mess in here is you.” Shouta gives Hizashi’s knee a squeeze.

Hizashi grins at his partner and reajusts his seat, a middle ground where he’s not leaning all the way back, but can still see you when you talk.

The drive to the trailhead passes quickly as you get to know the pair you realize you know next to nothing about. You learn about their students, a roudy batch of aspiring heroes, always getting into trouble. Shouta’s been pushing for a summer training program for years, get the kids outdoors to show them that not all hero work is done in the big city. There’s plenty of times when emergency rescues will send them out of the city, wildfires, landslides, floods.

Shouta could go on about his students for hours, but Hizashi is getting restless. Itchy. Scratching at his collar as the SUV takes you further into the mountains. The reminders of bug bites, poison ivy, and everything else he hates about the so-called “great” outdoors. He’ll take the climate-controlled studio at the radio station over this anyday.

You perk up as Shouta continues driving past the entrance you normally use. He catches the flash of worry in the rearview as he hums to himself, turning on the radio as he tunes in to a pre-recorded Put Your Hands Up Radio show. Hizashi can’t help but gush about every song that plays, from the date it was released, to trivia about the artist, to the particular version he chose and why. Practically a walking, talking encyclopedia about music, he holds you in rapt attention, hanging on every word.

Finally, Shouta reaches the pull off he was looking for, slowing as he turns up what looks to be an old logging road. The deep tracks tell you that someone still comes up here from time to time, though the fallen log about a mile and a half in appears to the signal the end of the road.

The doors unlock and you’re the first one out, taking in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. Crisp with the scent of pine playing together with sweet notes of honeysuckle and the earthy dampness of moss. The trees aorund you are brimming with life; bird calls and the hum of insect life echos around you as you take in your surroundings. It feels like home.

Shouta is already lifting the hatch and sorting through the gear as Hizashi complains trying to scrape the mud off his no longer pristine hiking boots with a stick.

“Do we really have to hike anywhere? Isn’t this far enough? C’mon Shou, we’re miles from civilization already.”

“Suck it up,” Shouta orders, gruffly shoving a backpack into Hizashi’s chest.

You can’t help but laugh at the two of them. Shouta continues to sort through the back of the car, dividing the gear into piles. He’s clearly used to Hizashi’s over dramatic antics, paying no mind as the lanky blond cries out as he walks through a spider web.

#bnha #mha #shouta aizawa x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #erasermic x reader #camping #eventual smut #current wip #it's eating my brain #SIEGE HELP ME #Quill Drabble #this is basically what I call an outline

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 4 months

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how or when do sp characters sleep

My DUDE these are pretty much overarching takes but since u just commented on an OrangeJuiceVerse post I’m ESPECIALLY thinkin ojv on these! So I’m doin the Star Seven

Stan falls asleep anywhere anytime. Always. One of those people that climb in bed and are lights out within two seconds. Lucky bastard. He’ll sleep in a car, on a floor, couch, wherever; if he’s tired he’s sleeping and it doesn’t matter where. He may stay up late sometimes with his online dnd group but when everyone logs off he’s Out the moment his head hits the pillow. And he is such a deep sleeper too. Just laid out like a log and needs to be aggressively shaken awake. He’s a realllly good pillow bc he doesn’t move tho.

Kyle is the exact opposite. I’m not gonna say he’s high maintenance, but he’s kinda particular with sleeping conditions. The fan has to be going, it has to be dark, he can’t sleep in socks, there’s gotta be a water bottle in reach, ya know. Also if we are talking OJV, he won’t complain if, like, he’s staying the night on someone’s foldout couch, but he has chronic pain bc he never got proper treatment for an injury in high school, so he has trouble getting comfortable when his knee is bothering him. And!!! In general his mind is so active and he has so much trouble getting it to quiet down enough to sleep, he’s tossing and turning forever, gets too warm, sleeps half out of the blanket, a mess. Wakes up at the drop of a hat, the wind blows too loud outside and he’s awake again. He feels guilty napping during the day, so that only happens when he’s not feeling well.

Kenny, 80% of the time, is like Stan, dead to the world when he’s asleep, but he’s too damn instinctual for his own good and if anyone or anything feels off to him during the day, he can’t fall asleep that night. He’s very much a guy who sleeps curled up on his side, and comfort doesn’t matter a whole lot to him. He has awful dreams frequently though, and sleep paralysis gets him a lot, which sucks when he’s sleeping heavily bc it’s really hard to wake up. Marj can usually sense times like that in the same way she senses his Curse, so she can wake him up to get him out of it.

Marjorine is a pretty normal sleeper, like 10-15 minutes of imagining her mental story (she ain’t alone in the pre sleep scenario I do that always) and she’s drifting off, she’s a cuddly sleeper for sure, which is awesome bc Kenny’s a GREAT little spoon, and if Kenny isn’t there she’s hugging a pillow.

Tweek dear god he is the worst sleeper on the planet. He goes to bed super early most of the time, only to wake up an hour later with no hope of falling asleep again. Like he’ll sleep from around 7-9, be awake until 5, sleep for another hour or so, and then it’s daytime so he can’t sleep bc he’s worried something bad will happen while he’s out. (Btw I am fully pulling Tweek sleep headcanons from myself I am an awful sleeper) He OCCASIONALLY naps, but only by accident. If he tries to take a nap during the day on purpose, he can’t, but when he doesn’t want to, that’s when he gets the best sleep. He has AWFUL dream like his nightmares are so vivid and terrifying and sometimes even prophetic. Even the dreams that aren’t scary are so clear that he’s left confused about if they were real. The scary visions and sleep paralysis are a lot of the reason he’s so paranoid and when it’s been a few days since he’s gotten sleep? The hallucinations dude holy shit.

Craig is kind of a night owl, and he really isn’t a morning person, but once he goes to bed, he’s asleep pretty fast. And he really isn’t picky about where he sleeps or what time it is, he just sleeps. He rarely has dreams that are jarring enough to remember, and while he usually hits the snooze button a few times, he can wake up relatively quickly. Not a napper at ALL this man thrives on routine and consistency. He hardly ever wakes up in the night once he’s out, even with Tweek thrashing around trying to get comfortable beside him lmfao

Cartman. I don’t have a whole lot to say on his sleep habits really, other than he’s out here in one of those eyemasks and a sleep noise playlist going lmaoooo he got the oil diffuser drifting lavender mist into the air and all that. He wakes up to an alarm programmed to play soft music with birds gently chirping bc he likes to feel like a Disney princess in the mornings. Lmfao he’s so unserious I love ojverse cartman

THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS!!! I had fun thinkin abt it and projecting onto Tweek lol rip gotta love the gnomes

#asks #GUYS I LOVE ASKS #also I legit have awful sleep habits time isn’t real and neither is my single crumb of sanity #south park #and I had to make this #OrangeJuiceVerse #but I feel like they apply just in general #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #marjorine stotch #tweek tweak #craig tucker #eric cartman #headcanons

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in-need-of-gally-content · 5 days

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|Chapter•Thirty•Five|

•|Masterlist|•

The following days went by quite normally, weirdly enough. (M/n) found himself exchanging smiles and waves with the Sloppers more and more often, and whilst they weren't friends, they were on good-ish terms, and thankfully, it seemed like Lucas was able to understand his perspective, as he had completely changed his behaviour and had been trying to be a good guy.

Which continued to weird (M/n) out whenever it happened.

But thankfully, as these few days went by, (M/n) felt, for the first time, like he belonged in the Glade and was treated as another dude stuck in this place and he was glad.

One thing he had been able to do pretty easily was become closer to Ty, who had become Chuck's friend. He got to know the guy and realized he was actually a nice dude and quite on the younger side, which explained why he got along with Chuck easier than with the rest, and why it was hard for him to stand up to Stan and the others.

Ty had apologized to him for lying about having seen him hurting Peter, but (M/n) understood it wasn't his fault and explained how he didn't have any kind of grudge against him.

And now, on the next Box day, (M/n) was sitting outside on the grass, enjoying a small break while Chuck and Ty played for a while. Gally was gone for the moment, he had something to discuss with Alby apparently, and well, (M/n) wasn't a Keeper so he wasn't allowed to know, at least not yet.

He was mindlessly petting Bark, who had made himself comfortable on his lap and basked in the warm sunlight for a while, when Ty and Chuck approached them, chuckling and drying the sweat off their faces, it seemed like they had fun which brought a smile to his face, and watched as they sat down in front of him.

"Had fun?" They nodded and their hair bounced around at how effusive they were about it, "Here," he reached for his water bottle, which was in the shade and handed it over to them, who drank over half of it as if it was oxygen. (M/n) chuckled and shook his head from side to side.

"(M/n), can I ask you something?" He looked at Ty, who stared back at him with curiosity-filled eyes.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Why do you look different than the rest of us?" Well... That was the question he least expected, "Did something happen to you?" (M/n) stayed quiet as he wondered how to explain this in a way that made sense and wasn't too difficult to comprehend.

However, he found himself mumbling his response, "I guess I was just... Born in the wrong body, Ty," was all he could say.

He watched as both guys in front of him frowned, and Ty seemed to be analysing his words.

"Like... A guy trapped in a girl's body?" He showed them a small smile, and nodded slowly, muttering a quiet 'yeah...' in response, "Can you go back to your real body?"

Ty's question sounded so genuine and innocent, that it made his smile grow, "Unfortunately, I can't, I'm stuck with this body until the day I die," Chuck looked at (M/n), a pout forming on his lips as he crawled closer and wrapped his chubby arms around (M/n).

"I'm sorry you have to live like that, (M/n)," his words made a knot grow in his throat, his eyes filling with tears, the ones he blinked away and tried to ignore the feeling in his chest, making breathing slightly more difficult than usual.

"It's okay, Chuck."

//////

A couple of hours later, the small bonfire was being lit, and like always, (M/n) was sitting by the fire, Gally glued to his side, his arm wrapping around his shoulders.

They were sitting on the grass, their back resting against the logs while staring far into the darkness of the Glade, facing away from the bonfire.

Everything felt nice. The sounds of their friends eating and joking around behind them, the subtle chirp of crickets, the crackling of the wood in the fire as it burned, the slightly chill breeze brushing their skin, it all felt relaxing and made them feel at peace.

"I feel like I'm home," Gally's voice broke the silence between them, coming out in a low and raspy whisper, successfully catching (M/n)'s attention.

He looked at Gally for a few seconds, just observing his profile being framed by the fire, almost making him appear as if he was glowing, "You don't want to get out of here?"

Slowly, Gally turned to look at (M/n), holding their eye contact, "I do, but every place will feel like home if I'm with you, (M/n)..."

His skin got covered in goosebumps at Gally's words, and he shifted in place, getting just a little bit closer to the blond, staring into his eyes, noticing his pupils blown wide, covering the majority of his green irises. He leaned closer and rested his head on Gally's shoulder, the stillness between them returning for a couple of minutes.

"Bean?" But once again, Gally broke that silence, a hesitant tone in his voice.

"Yeah?" He mumbled, his voice dropping lower than usual.

He felt Gally's arm move, and soon, his hand reached to touch his face, his warm fingertips gracing his chilly skin, at that action, (M/n) looked up slightly, staring into each other's eyes once again, observing the subtle details of the other's face.

"Gally," the blond hummed and (M/n) realized they were slowly inching closer, his (e/c) eyes trailing down to stare at Gally's lips, "I don't think I'll be able to stop if we kiss," he said in a breathy whisper, his hand gripping onto the fabric of his pants.

"Then we don't have to stop."

Like that, they began inching closer, this time with no intention to stop. They could feel their breaths mixing and they began to slowly close their eyes. They were so close to each other, just a little more and then-

"(M/n)!" The cheerful sound of Chuck's high-pitched voice broke the moment, "Look! Look what I made!" He sighed and backed away from Gally, hearing subtle laughter behind them, so he turned to take a look.

All the Builders -their friends-, were looking straight at him and Gally, obviously having witnessed their moment and how it was broken. They had silently agreed to keep quiet and not interrupt them, realizing just how much they've ruined an intimate moment between those two, and deciding to just let fate play itself, but Chuck...

"What is it, little man?" (M/n) shifted his body around until he was mostly kneeling on the grass, holding his weight on the log with his elbows.

Excitedly, Chuck put his hand out, showing his newest wood carving. It looked like the best out of many attempts at a cute little dog. It seemed to be a replica of Bark.

"Oh~, it looks so good, Chuck," (M/n) gently grabbed it and looked at it from every angle. It was certainly cute, and he definitely forgave Chuck for interrupting, he probably didn't even realize what he did anyway, he was so happy about what he had created and he wanted to show it to him, so he couldn't get mad at the little man.

Not when his flushed face displayed that wide and adorable smile of his.

///////

The following day went by pretty nicely, or at least until lunchtime. The weather had become scorching hot, so Alby had called a day off for everyone or, to at least, take as many breaks as they needed.

What an attentive Leader they had, truly.

Well, at the moment, (M/n) and Gally were just enjoying a walk around the Deadheads, as it was usually the coolest place in the Glade whenever they had a hot day, and they were humming a song together while simply enjoying the other's company.

(M/n) had been picking a few flowers he saw around, mostly dandelions as there were quite a few around, and was keeping ahold of them in his left hand while bouncing around in rhythm with the song, Gally was just there to have a peaceful time, occasionally glancing back just to see the (h/c) haired having fun in his own head.

They walked a few more minutes, ending up near one of the creeks, and that's when (M/n) spotted something on the ground.

Well, more like it spotted him and caught his attention, since whatever it was reflected the sunlight directly into his eyes.

Because of that, he blinked repeatedly for a few seconds and looked toward it, avoiding getting blinded again. He took a few steps forward and crouched down, spotting the shiny stone still reflecting the sunlight and he picked it up.

It was a really pretty stone, especially the weirdly nice heart shape it was, it had a stripe pattern and it was a green-blue-ish combination, it looked very much like... Gally's eyes.

He kept a tight grip on it and slightly jogged toward Gally was as he hadn't really stopped, too busy humming the same song over and over again, "Hey, look," (M/n) called out to the blond as he came to stop next to him, opening his hand so Gally could look at it, "Isn't it pretty?"

Gally turned to look at him, and stared down at (M/n)'s hand, "Woah, where did you find it?"

He gently held (M/n)'s hand and lifted it, bringing it closer to look at it closely, quite fascinated by it.

"The sun reflected off of it and it blinded me, so it was more like it found me," both chuckled at his words and (M/n) looked at Gally, he was still looking at the stone and he seemed to really like it.

"It's so pretty."

"Yeah, I know..." Little did Gally know that (M/n) wasn't talking about the stone, his stare locked on him. "You can keep it," he muttered and Gally finally looked back at him.

They made eye contact immediately and (M/n) noticed how his pupils were blown wide and his face began colouring pink.

"Really?" He quietly asked.

"Yes, it's a pretty rock so... You should keep it," (M/n) watched how Gally grabbed it and observed it a little more, before beginning their walk once more, fidgeting with the stone in his hands.

The remaining hours of the day went just like that, Gally kept fidgeting with the stone, occasionally putting it in his pocket for short periods of time, but he mostly just held it.

He would inspect it just in case, making sure it didn't crack in any way and that it was in perfect condition. He had considered making a necklace with it, but was scared about completely breaking it if he tried to make some sort of hole in it, so he was really debating whether he wanted to do it or not.

And that's why he stayed up late, wrapping the stone in rope and fabric, making it a sort of secure pocket for it, as a way to protect it, covering every inch of it. He wrapped and tied the rope around it in a way that would hold it in place and wouldn't slip off, before carefully hanging it around his neck, and finally, lying down on his bed, getting ready to sleep for the remaining hours of the night.

//////

A few days after, (M/n) found himself helping Chuck get the stuff ready for the next greenie who was coming up the next day.

"Alright, little man, we're done here," he said as he finished tying the last knot of the hammock in the tree trunk and wiped the sweat off his forehead, "You're ready to give the new greenie their tour?" Chuck nodded and placed the new sheet on top of the hammock, "Remember the rules?"

"Yes, sir," he saluted, making (M/n) chuckle. He looked cute yet silly.

"Hey, wanna help me with something?" He asked Chuck while dusting his hands on his pants, the curly-haired boy nodded, "Alright, come on."

He turned around and together they began making their way into the Deadheads, Chuck realized they were heading toward (M/n)'s treehouse and he wondered what it could be that he needed help with.

"Wait here," quietly, he stood in place as he watched the older male making his way up the ladder and inside the room, a minute or two went by and then he walked out, holding a bunch of flowers in his hands, "Okay... I keep having issues making these damn flower crowns, so I needed the extra hands."

"Who are they for?" Chuck asked as (M/n) sat on the ground, signalling him to do the same, which he did.

"Well, I was thinking of making three, you know... For you, for Gally and me, but this might be too many," (M/n) placed the flowers on a small piece of fabric he brought with him and grabbed a couple of dandelions, "It took me a while to figure out the best way to make them without breaking it apart, let me show you."

He taught Chuck how to intertwine the stems of the flowers and secure them in place, and Chuck soon found himself enjoying this moment with (M/n), agreeing to make each other's flower crowns and work together to get Gally's done.

And speaking off, the blond had been walking around the Glade trying to find those two but no one knew where they were, so he took a chance and went to look for them in (M/n)'s room...

Yep, there they were.

"Damn, I've been looking for you two..." He announced his presence as he approached them, and he instantly caught notice of both flower crowns sitting atop their heads while working as a team to finish a third one, even Bark was wearing one, "What are you doing?"

(M/n) briefly looked up and smiled before continuing to wrap the dandelions around the each other, "Your crown."

Gally stayed silent for a couple of seconds, processing what he just heard, "My crown?"

Both Chuck and (M/n) nodded, finally finishing putting the last flower together and they stood up with a cheerful 'yeah!'.

"Okay, come here," Gally didn't move as (M/n) approached him, staring at the flower crown in his hands, "Big guy," he lifted both arms as a way to make Gally lean down, which he did with a subtle roll of his eyes.

"...whatever," slowly, the crown was placed on his head and (M/n) proceeded to pick strands of his hair to make him look better, he guessed.

"Now we're all pretty," Chuck said with a wide smile on his face, making both older males laugh at his words.

"You're damn right, little man."

Well... No one in the Glade dared comment on Gally's flower crown, although... Maybe Mikah and Alec did, as they asked (M/n) to make one for them as well, to which Doug complained that he also wanted one.

//////

(M/n) tossed and turned in his room, a frown appearing on his frown as his mind showed him images once again.

This time, he was lying down on something cold and hard, probably a gurney, and he was tied down, he was squirming and struggling but couldn't free himself no matter how hard he tried to, he could actually feel his skin burning as the rough fabric around his wrists rubbed on his skin too harshly.

He had no idea where he was, but it appeared to be some sort of medical lab.

Before he could keep looking around him, he heard something to his right and saw a body approaching. It was blurry, as if his eyes had just lost focus suddenly, and that person loomed over him.

"This is for your own good, (M/n)..." That was a voice... He recognized that voice.

The same guy? Again? Who is he?

"Erasing my memories isn't for anyone's good except WICKED's! Thomas, let me go!" He exclaimed angrily at him, fighting the restraints on his arms and legs.

"I... I can't do it, (M/n)... You'll understand soon," he felt Thomas' hand reach up to his head, moving his hair away from his face, and he groaned, shaking his head to avoid his touch.

That's when he noticed someone else was in the room, this person wasn't a man, it was-

"You're taking too long," a female voice echoed in the cold room, and she took something out of Thomas' hand.

"Wait, Teresa-!"

A stinging pain was all he felt, making him groan in pain at how sudden it was, successfully waking him up.

He sat up abruptly, his hand reaching up to his neck where he could still the needle piercing his skin, and he looked around frantically, startled, but soon realizing it was just a dream and he was safe in the Glade.

He messed his hair a bit and reached over to pull his curtains open. The sky was beginning to clear, but it was definitely still late.

He sighed and rested his back against the wall, rubbing his face and groaning in frustration, "Who the shuck are they?"

///////

Breakfast was a little tense for (M/n), but all the guys at the table were loud and funny enough to distract him from the images of his dream, however the memory kept replaying in his mind, but he still tried his best to enjoy the rest of the day.

He spent the morning doing some work and helping Chuck "rehearse" his tour and speech to the new greenie coming up, only being interrupted when lunch was called.

It went past just like morning did, only this time he found himself engaging in conversation with his friends, and now, it was time to wait for the Box with the new greenie, which was taking longer than usual.

(M/n) took a quick detour to his room and grabbed his journal and camera, before making a beeline to the watchtower.

Getting comfortable on his spot, he opened his journal and began writing on it, words appearing on the blank paper as he began narrating the dream he had. He felt like putting it in words could help him understand what it meant or why he had it, maybe even find out who these people were. It just hadn't left his mind, and he would remember it all the moment he became distracted.

Now, there was an addition to 'Thomas' now, another name, "Teresa..." Something about that name made him frown and squirm uncomfortable on his spot, but the sudden sound behind him caught his attention and he couldn't think about it anymore.

He looked over his shoulder, slightly turning his body around, Gally was there, his head poking out through the open hatch.

"You're coming here more often," (M/n) watched how Gally squinted at the bright sunlight, a small smile on his face, letting him know he wasn't mad or judging him for being in the tower.

He sighed and fiddled with his journal, "Yeah... I just need to think," he mumbled while looking down at the writing page.

"About what?" Gally found a more comfortable position, crossing his arms on the wooden floor and resting his chin on the back of his hand.

(M/n) looked at him in complete silence for a moment, before deciding to respond, "About things... From before, you know."

Gally nodded slowly and tilted his head to the side, "You don't wanna tell me."

He found himself almost immediately freaking out internally, but he held it in as he realized the soft smile on Gally's face, and understood that he wasn't mad at him.

"No, I... I do wanna tell you but..." He messed with his hair, anxiously, "I don't even know what half of these things mean, so I didn't wanna rope you into this."

"It's fine, bean, don't worry," (M/n) nodded at Gally's words, trying his best to not let his overthinking mind make him believe that was a lie, "But you know you can tell me anything, right?"

He took a deep breath and smiled at Gally, nodding more convinced this time, "And I will, just... It has to be something important, something significant."

"Something... like?" He stayed quiet for a few seconds, thinking of an example of something important. Like Lucas' being Jansen's son, a man he knew he hated. Or something like saving his life.

Or...

"Does the name... 'Thomas', mean anything to you...?" He finally asked in a whisper, and he watched how Gally's smile faded away from his face.

"You know that name too?"

Before (M/n) could ask Gally what he meant by that, the Box alarm went off in the Glade, catching them off guard.

"Shuck- go, we can talk later," he said to the blond, who reluctantly agreed, hearing the distant shouting of the Builders gathered around the Box.

#gally x reader #gally x y/n #gally x male reader #the maze runner x male reader #the maze runner #the maze runner x reader #tmr gally #gally the maze runner #gally maze runner #ftm reader #trans reader #trans #will poulter #will poulter x reader #will poulter fanfiction

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eflen-n-reegee · 10 months

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Regressor Mark Watney Headcanons (The Martian)

Thank you to Anon for suggesting! I went with the film version - the book is still on my reading list. Hope you like it! :)

Heads up, there are mentions of trauma regression in these headcanons.

Mark has always been childish, but he never really experienced regression before Mars. Once he removed the antenna and had a minute to actually catch his breath, he realized how truly alone he was and he regressed from fear and continuing pain. For several hours he just sat at the desk, feeling stuck in that fear. Even after he made his initial video log, he continued dipping in and out of that headspace for the next few days.

But in addition to always being childish, Mark has always been a problem-solver. After deciding he was going to get off of Mars, he was able to push back the depressive regression, which made work easier… until the hydrogen explosion. After that, Mark decided he needed a better system for relaxing, because constant stress leads to dangerous mistakes. So he decided to curl up in his bunk for an hour and let his brain wander the way it had been doing while he was recovering from his wound. Because he actually had a plan at this point, his headspace wasn’t as frightening; where he expected to spend the hour catatonic, he ended up singing to himself and tapping a rhythm on the wall.

After that, he set aside “chill time” every evening. He very rarely regressed involuntarily, so he was able to get his work done during the daylight hours and then have some regression time before he went to sleep.

One of the only things that can cause him to regress involuntarily is storms. After the accident, any kind of storm is terrifying for him, and he regresses to a much younger age than he normally does.

He definitely liked to imagine that the Fonz was hanging out with him, and maybe even looking after him in some way - especially when he’s upset.

He loves being right about things, being the best at things, and when he regressed in the evenings he would often wander the Hab and point out the things he had done during the working day, and loudly declare “I did that! I’d like to see somebody else do that like I did!”

Every once in a while he’d have “chill time” during the day, and he’d go outside to dig in the sand or lumber around like a martian monster.

He definitely throws tantrums when he’s angry; sometimes he punches walls, sometimes he pouts and does things he knows he shouldn’t be doing, but either way he usually feels calmer afterwards.

Mark considered telling NASA about what was going on, but he decided they didn’t need to know right then. The scientists were already trying to tel HIM, the planet’s VERY BEST FARMER, how to grow potatoes; he didn’t want somebody telling him how he was supposed to psychologically cope on a deserted planet.

But once he was safely on board the Hermes, he did mention it to a NASA psychiatrist, who told him it was a very normal response to extreme stress and not something he needed to worry about. The rest of the Hermes crew almost wish the doctor hadn’t told him that, because being trapped in closed quarters with a regressed Mark can be a test of patience.

(But seriously, they were just happy he was with them; and if regressing made things easier for him, you better believe they were gonna baby the crud out of that guy.)

#Eflen writes #Eflen headcanons #The Martian agere #The Martian age regression #Mark Watney agere #Mark Watney age regression #sfw age regression #sfw agere #age regression headcanons #regressor headcanons

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catboii · 5 months

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((Not to be majorly ooc on the rp blog but my anxiety is through the roof today and i kinda just need to vent.

I've been back to work for maybe 2 or 3 weeks after taking some time off for my mental health. And upon coming back I've had countless issues with logging in. Multiple systems have either been disabled, locked, or I just forgot a password and it needed resetting but it's not just a case of *change* done.

And yesterday which is a nice quiet day on the phones and I was hoping it would all be sorted so I had a nice intro back on, still not done. One manager said the one single system I had left to fix should be an easy one and he seemed pissed that no one had done it already, but the IT guys closed like half an hour before we figured it out. So I was supposed to go see him when I started today to get it sorted, get back on the phones. Easy! Sorted!

But today. The lift is busted. Worse, they're doing some scheduled* maintenance. So multiple people in charge knew this was happening. I don't like to call myself disabled outside of certain contexts, I prefer "less able-bodied" or something, because physically I can walk, physically I can stand for maybe half an hour if for some reason my life depended on it. But it's the chronic pain and fatigue, the connective tissue issues, random minor dislocating of joints and Ataxia that means I use a walking aid and even with that I'm slow, awkward and off balance, I walk into things like desks and walls, going from sitting to standing I need to steady myself with both hands on something or I'll topple over. On top of that I'm asthmatic and although it's medium risk, it's specifically cold weather and exercise triggered, it's really exacerbated by central heating and air conditioning. I've given myself 3 asthma attacks in the last few months just by existing at home and doing general chores.

I cant do even one set of these stairs. And my desk is on the 2nd floor (that's 2 floors up if anyone is reading this and isn't sure bc i think in the US the "first floor" is our "ground floor" then the first floor up is the "first floor" lol).

I do have a desk set up down here still, in the barely used training area, and normally I would just jump on it and go about my day with no help apart from our work chat I barely get a useful reply from, but I've been off sick for like 3 months. Things have changed that I'm not sure about and if there's a complaint you're supposed to bring it to your manager... I'm way too anxious to even try taking any phone calls right now.

But I'm also being paid for being here with just one system issue that should be easily fixable. If I get called out on it I dunno what to say apart from "if I'm left alone I will break down"...

I'm making myself sick I just. I dunno what to do.

#ooc post.#.vat file #I have to go back to my desk bc I'm a good little capitalist pawn.#I'm not even using my breaks right bc I didn't use the stamp in program this morning but i don't wanna get caught out #i finish in 2 hours though. but i dunno if they'll still be working on the lift tomorrow so it might just be more of the same.#sorry I'm just. really anxious.#/rant off #not looking for advice I'm just. need to vent.

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harrison-abbott · 4 months

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On my graduation day from my masters degree in journalism I was already a bit mucked off for various reasons. I only went to the ceremony because my father wanted to witness it. The gown and the regalia shit – the black stuff that they get you to wear – all cost £83, for one day’s hire. I wasn’t working a full time job at this point and didn’t have much money; and I said to my father that this was the case, but he didn’t take the hint, and so I was going up to this northern city to a ceremony that I didn’t want to go to.

The hat that they gave me in the regalia box of clothes didn’t fit on my head. So I’d spent all this money on the garb, and they gave me the wrong hat. It was too small and so I had to balance it on my head.

When my Dad met me outside of the ballroom the first thing he said was “Oh, you could have had a shave. You could have bought some new shoes.” I’d already shaved that morning. My facial hair tends to grow quite fast … And my shoes were just normal black shoes. Father insisted on taking a photo of me. I said to him, “Okay. But please could you not send a photo to the family – because I don’t want any photos of me up on social media.” He said that was fine, and took some snaps, as I was balancing the hat on my head.

After the photos, I got a flurry of messages from various family members. Congratulations and so on. My elder brother Brodie congratulated me too. I said to him, “Thank you. But, just by the by: if Dad sends you a photo of me in my gown, could you please not put the image up on social media. Because for various reasons I don’t want images up on public. Thanks.”

I attended the ceremony, with the students in the former rows and the watchers, including father, in the background. The reason why I was queasy about the entire event was because I didn’t get the grade that I deserved. My grade average across all units in the course had been at the upper B level. (I was only 3 points off an A.) And yet they gave me a C because I had gotten a poor grade in one of the law essays I did. Out of all of the course material that I had submitted it was literally only that one essay that had blemished my entire degree grade. And the worst part was that I had thought, up until I got the degree news/result, that the whole thing was based on grade average. So I thought I had gotten a B; and in fact I was a bit disappointed that I hadn’t got an A.

My name was called and I had to go up in front of four hundred people and accept an award that was an insult to my intelligence and an example of the stupidity of academia; something of which (academia) I had held faith in for five years and was now seeing the farcical mask of.

I was the first person to leave the ballroom. Left before the ceremony ended; because I wanted all of this gown stuff off of me. So I returned it to the hire people.

Then I headed up down and bought some heavy strength beers in the Polish shop. And waited for my Dad to come out. When he saw me he asked me if I had enjoyed the event and I said no, that I only did it for him. He said he thought I was a strange boy. I didn’t quite give a shit. For some bizarre reason he had bought the train tickets down home five hours from this point; so we had five hours to spend in this ugly little city. So I suggested we go to this craft beer joint and whittle away time in there. And we did so.

A few hours later I logged into my phone. And I went on to Facebook, as one does. And I looked on my feed and discovered that Brodie, my eldest brother (a man who was 34 years old at this moment) had just plastered the photo of me with my gown and clumsy hat. Right on my profile page, he’d done exactly what I’d asked him not to do earlier. Shamelessly. Just splatted the image of me on my timeline.

I called him – Brodie – to ask him to take it down. He didn’t pick up. So I messaged him several times, asking him to take it off. And I said that I asked him not to do that.

He eventually responded, twenty minutes later, by saying, “Twat. All right. I will.”

He went and did that, just to fuck me off on my graduation day; when I was already feeling angry and miserable. And I’d asked my Dad not to spread the photos around, too; and he went and did it anyway.

It was typical of both of them. Typical of the family bullying. That kind of unprovoked knack for hurting me, just for the hell of it. To do the exact opposite of what I pleaded with them not to do, solely to hurt my feelings, badger me, goad me. And then for Brodie to call me a ‘twat’ after I got angry about it. A man in his mid thirties. Perhaps involving some kind of childish jealousy that I was better educated than he was. And, I was. I was the only person in the family to achieve a Masters degree, and I went to the best universities. And half of my siblings never even went to university.

Yes. It was a grim way to end my adventures in academia. And, as you can probably tell from the tone of this story, I’m still pretty bitter about it. I think because my degree in Psychology (before Journalism) was a success tale.

I often thought that my MA degree in Psychology was amongst my greatest achievements. And, oh, yeah: my mother told me I was going to fail this degree altogether. And she later said, after I had graduated, in reference to my degree: “I don’t give a shit about a piece of paper!”

Honestly, that’s what she said about it.

Families should not determine your achievements. You make your own goals and you win them by yourself; and you shouldn’t let abusive quotes from your family to make them seem less spectacular.

They were abusive critics, and still are. But I was a way better academic than any of them. And still am …

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #stories #tumblr writers #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #thoughts and feelings

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romanticwealth · 5 months

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A real fucking horror story

Content warning - FANON MASKY!!!! THAT STUPID TWINK!!!!!

—

It was supposed to be a normal night. I get on my phone, look at my socials, log off to go draw, all the normal bullshit. I listen to a bit of music (Hollywood Undead, Nico Collins, Ice Nine Kills, etc., use your imagination), and then I play some video games. That’s all it was supposed to be, yeah?

I guess someone had other plans.

See, it was around 3am. I know what you’re asking- “why the hell were you up at 3am?” Because I was drawing. Simple. Sure I had something to do in a couple of hours, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was my yaoi fanart while I listened to Millionaires!!!

Anyways, so I’m scribbling on my iPad. I’m working on my artwork of guys kissing. In a few minutes I’m going to get on my phone and look at Discord to yell at my friends.

Just then, someone taps on my window. This of course, freaks me the fuck out. It’s three in the damn morning- who’s tapping on my window? It ain’t rain, and it ain’t the wind. This is horrifying. I turn off all my devices and pretend to be asleep, despite the internal dread I’m feeling knowing that someone is at my window.

Then, I hear my window opening. Woah- what the fuck? Now this is pure horror. I shut my eyes tightly and pray for all this to be some sort of dream, nightmare, anything to know that this ain’t real. I clutch my plague doctor plush and feel my lip quivering. Fuck.

I suddenly feel a presence in my room. The sound of boots hitting my floor and the smell of the outside world hitting my nose as I still pretend to be asleep. There’s a presence looming over me now, and I’m debating on if I should just get up and fight this person off. But they may have a weapon- what do I have? My fists? Yeah right. Like that’ll save me.

“Wake up,” I hear. The voice is… god, so irritable. It’s high pitched and squeaky. Talk about a bad break-in. That’s when I realize that I may just have power over this person.

So I drop the act and swing my fist, hitting something. It’s the person, judging by the pained yelp. I get up and grab the closest thing I could- a prop axe. I begin beating this mysterious foe with it, wincing at every pained groan and yelp I hear. I’m not violent by any means, but I felt like a fucking wrestler in this very moment.

After a bit, I see that they’re weakened. I drop the prop axe and put my foot on this person’s chest. I lean down and pull off their stupid mask.

God, I felt like my soul left my body when I saw their piercing blue eyes. The only thing I thought was, “oh god, please get this person brown contacts.” Not, “Jesus Christ, someone broke into my home.” That’s how pathetic and weak this guy looks.

“Please,” he whimpers. “I’ll leave and never-“

“Shut the fuck up,” I interrupt. “You don’t get to break into my home and then ask me for mercy. Who do you think you are?” I sneer, pressing my foot down more. He yelps again. At this point, I’m wishing that I had grabbed something heavier to knock him out with.

“What’s your name?” I ask. “The police are gonna have a field day with you.” I comment. The intruder doesn’t respond.

“Name.” I demand. He winces. “T-Timothy.” He says.

“Hi Timothy,” I say, getting my foot off of his chest and forcing him onto his feet.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, you’re gonna get the fuck out of my house and if you dare come back or even think about it, I will not be as nice as I’m being to you right now.”

“Do you understand?”

He nods quickly, so I force him back out of my window and shut it with more force.

Since that day, I haven’t been able to get the smell of cheesecake and those piercing blue eyes out of my mind. I sometimes still see them when I close my own eyes. They haunt me. It’s like my house is haunted by that twink-truder.

I hope I don’t see him again. If I do, I’ll be keeping my fucking word.

#creepypasta #fanon masky slander #fanon masky makes me want to say twinks dni #im so tired #a real fucking horror story #real shit #creepypasta fandom #mentally unstable #truly horrifying

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motorcyclebucket · 2 years

Note

Hi, I'm back again!! Normally I wait for a few more requests to be posted before sending another ask, but this is an idea that just popped into my head!!

what if the captain!reader was an ex-engineer and they really like engineer!mark but they have trouble just telling him (cuz they get super flustered and nervous). So they start doing tasks to help mark out, but they do it after hours when everyones asleep. And mark only finds out cuz people keep thanking him for things he doesn't remember doing? super fluffy, they confess to each other mayhaps??

- dragon anon (is it on to be the dragon anon?? (´∀`))

It's completely fine, man! And yes, you can!

Words: 714

Warnings: A very tired captain

============================

“Thanks for fixing the door to Life Support, Mark,” One of the crew members said to him in passing, leaving him confused. He was on his way to fix it, but it was already fixed? How? Did the problem just fix itself? Not minding it, he shrugged his shoulders and continued on. Less work for him.

It only got stranger from there, Things being reported late in the day just before everyone went to sleep were fixed the next day when they very clearly weren't before. What was going on? Was there a ghost or something on the ship? As he stood on the main bridge zoning out slightly, he felt someone place a hand on his shoulder before standing next to him.

“You alright Mark? You’re sorta Spacing out- no pun intended,” You said with a slight smile as he looked over at you after shaking his head slightly. “I’m ok Cap, its just-” he said, looking out the large window. “I think the ship is haunted or something,”

When he heard you chuckling, he looked back up. “Haunted? Why would you say that?”

“It’s just- things keep getting fixed when I didn't do anything. I'm not sure who or what it is, but I'm not letting a ghost steal my job!” he said, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I assure you, if a ghost is fixing things, you will not be losing your job, promise.” you said, patting his back. The device on your arm beeped, signaling you were needed somewhere one the ship. “Welp, Duty calls! See you around, Mark.” you said, walking off.

That was a close call.

As everyone began to turn in for the night, you checked your tablet for anything that needed repairs that had been logged before everyone went to sleep. Being captain had its perks, including needed repair logs.

In the past, you had worked as an engineer before becoming the captain. It just so happened on one of your many sleepless nights that something needed fixing. So you grabbed some of the sapre tools and fixed it as a sort of thank you to Mark.

‘Was that all it really was, though?’ you would ask yourself. In the beginning, you saw him as a friend, your trusted head engineer. But as time passed, you saw him as more. You wanted to confess, confront these feelings that hung in the back of your head, but you just couldn't. Every time you tried, your face would go all hot and you would make up some excuse and leave.

Tonight was something smaller, a vent casing outside Cryo had come undone and needed to be put back into place so the whole ship wouldn't get cold. Crouching, you saw the vent casing had been removed, now laying on the ground with the bolts that held it in place. Someone had done this on purpose.

“What in the…”

“A-ha! Caught you, you- Captain?”

Looking up from the vent, Mark stood behind you, a look of confusion on his face. “Captain? What’re you doing?” he asked, your face heating up. ‘Shit’.

You'd been caught.

“M-Mark! Hey! I was just, uh, i was, um,” you stuttered, standing and poorly hiding your tools behind you. “Wait, have you been the one fixing things?” he asked as you slumped your shoulders in defeat. “I- yeah, it was me.”

“Why?” he asked as you crouched back down, putting the casing back in place and putting the screws back in. “I- you just- you do so much for the ship, and I admire that. I guess this is a sort of thanks?” you say standing and turning around, jumping slightly realizing he had gotten closer. “... and maybe because I like you.” you mumbled, him smirking slightly. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn't really hear you-”

“I said I like you!”

You looked back down at the ground, your face burned. You heard him chuckle, making you lift your head.

Only for him to kiss your cheek.

If it was even possible, your face burned more, a dumb smile coming to your face as he grinned.

“Get some rest, Cap. And thank you.” He said before jogging back to his quarters. After standing there for a few moments, your tablet pinged.

‘And i like you too ;]’

=======

hope this was alright!!

#iswm #iswm x reader #🐲 anon!

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artdecosupernova-writing · 1 year

Text

OC Kiss Week Day 6: Adventure

WIP: Darkspace Portent series Pairing: Thrive x Warren Timeline: after Aurora CW: none Rating: T Words: 1,706

***

At four-thirty in the morning in his old apartment on the Consortium Node, Warren stirred as the mattress dipped under the weight of someone leaning toward him. He peeled his eyes open and snorted back a ton of mucus, clearing his throat instantly upon remembering that he'd gone to sleep alone, and realizing that Thrive's face was currently inches away from his.

"Oh," Warren muttered, rubbing his eyes. "...G'mornin'?" He then realized Thrive had actually been hovering over him, arms on either side of him, and it was all he could do not to grin broadly through his curtain of grogginess. "Good morning."

Thrive, on the other hand, was smiling. Big and genuine, warm, bordering excited. The expression was close to being unrecognizable on him. "I had a thought."

"Congratulations," Warren said.

"Would you like to join me on an adventure?"

Now, Warren was awake. He assessed Thrive's sparkling eyes and soaked in his radiance for a few moments. "...I would like nothing more."

After a record-speed, multitasking shower and altogether disregarding the start of a beard he'd accumulated over the last few busy and exhausting days, Warren followed Thrive to the tram that would take them to the Centrum.

The car they boarded ensured they were surrounded by grumpy commuters and groups coming down from a full night of partying. Tucked away in the corner—though the other passengers either didn't recognize who they were or didn't care—Warren turned to Thrive and spoke in as low a voice as he could muster over the loud humming of the tram.

"So, explain to me this adventure you have planned that had to be done at the ass-crack of dawn."

Thrive reached up to hold onto the grab rail above Warren's head, which Warren clocked was more of a treat for him as Thrive could maintain his balance atop a rolling log bobbing on a thrashing sea should he be so inclined. "I can't go into detail in such a public location, but I've discovered that one of the only benefits that come with my position of power is the ability to access parts of the Node that most wouldn't see in their lifetimes."

Warren looked up at him, intrigued. "...You're going to break a law, aren't you?"

Thrive fought off a smirk, keeping a vigilant eye on the other passengers.

"Oh...Thrive."

"A certain...human," Thrive murmured carefully, "held in high regard to the majority of Milky Way occupants...owns a fascinating piece of technology not normally enjoyed by fellow inhabitants of this station. I, a curious outsider, would like a first-hand account of such a piece of tech for myself."

Warren practically vibrated with adrenaline. "This is gonna be the best day of my fucking life, isn't it?"

"That altogether depends on how this goes."

An hour later, they disembarked the tram on a Centrum station, one Warren had never been to before. Their IDs were checked at the gate, and once they were let through, Thrive took charge, leading Warren through official-looking corridors and elevators until they reached what appeared to be the entrance of a garage.

Thrive waved at the control panel by the door and it swiveled open for him. He turned to Warren with exhilarating mischief in his eyes. "Still trust me?"

"Never in my life have I ever trusted you as much as I do right now."

"That's saying quite a bit," Thrive chuckled, and they entered the garage together.

The vehicle Thrive made a beeline for was a compact, streamlined aerial car painted pale aqua with an iridescent purple sheen. Warren slowed to a halt in the middle of the spacious garage, jaw hitting the floor as it registered what exactly it was that was going on.

"Wait," he stammered. "Yo, wait, are you—"

"Keep an eye out," Thrive interrupted. He crouched beside the vehicle, running the pads of his fingers over the panel on the door.

Warren whirled around to watch the garage entrance, and something caught his eye in the corner of the ceiling. He glanced around and noticed there were several cameras placed strategically, each with a perfect angle to document their every move. "Look, I'm a ride-or-die bitch, but I can't exactly resign myself to being stupid enough to do this in full view of every security camera in the Centrum."

Thrive peered at the nearest camera. "I wouldn't worry about that," he said, his fingers working precisely against the metal chassis of the car. "By the time they realize we're gone, We'll be halfway across the Node. All the same..."

He lifted a free hand in the direction of the camera, and it popped in a shower of sparks and high-pitched whining. Smoke seeped from every device linked to it, and the LED light powered down in each one.

"Jesus Christ," Warren said under his breath. "Who the hell did I marry...?"

Thrive made a sound of triumph and stood, and both doors of the car lifted open following a cheerful series of musical beeps. He addressed Warren with mirth potent enough to bring back the dead. "You married the tired fool, my love."

Warren hurried to him. "This is DeCosta's car?!"

Upon piling inside, Thrive switched on a few controls on the dashboard, revving up the engine and remotely closing the doors once more. "We're taking this machine on the same joyride for which it's apparent she relishes taking me."

Having never been in an aerial car before, the initial jolt of speed came as a shock to Warren, whose adrenaline peaked with each second they zoomed through the deceptively massive garage. He gripped the panic bar over his head though the last thing he felt was panic, watching various important vehicles zipping by beneath them.

"This is happening," he said, buzzing from head to toe. "I can't believe you're doing this."

Thrive eased the car to a steady crawl as they neared the exit. His hands worked the controls with the expertise of a professional driver. He shrugged one shoulder, watching the door roll upward with due caution. "The rebellious phase is now or never."

"Fuck yeah, baby," Warren laughed. "Now you gotta get a bunch of tattoos and dye your hair bright fucking blue."

Thrive's nose scrunched, and he leaned forward to size up the traffic past the garage door. "...Blue isn't my color."

He punched the gas, so to speak, and they shot onto the sky road, soaring over the walkways and streets by several hundred feet. Despite the other vehicles reaching breakneck speeds, Thrive kept up with them, maneuvering fluidly through and around, until he took the nearest exit leading them into the main channel of the Node.

Warren could only stare in awe at the station's nebula on display through the transparent ceiling. A dust cloud of sapphires and emeralds, an intense glitter helped along by the nearest star casting sunny rays onto them. The main skyway was so open, the ceiling so clear, that it gave off the illusion that they were in space, ascending into the outstretched fingers of the gemstone fog.

"Open the door," Thrive said.

Warren snapped out of his absorption. "Ah. This is an assassination attempt. A little disappointing, but I guess I've had it coming."

Thrive pressed a button to unlock the vehicle. "It's safe, th'saiya."

With great hesitation and a second taken to be at full peace with this being the last thing he ever experienced before he died, Warren released the latch and pushed the door open.

As Thrive predicted, nothing happened. The great drone of thousands of vehicles on the road at once poured into the car, wind whipping through Warren's hair, and suddenly he was alive. He turned his face to the nebula and leaned out, holding tightly to the panic bar.

He basked in space for a moment, holding onto the memory of this with an iron grip. He outstretched his arm, as if he could run his hands through the nebula, and released an elated whoop when he spotted the tell-tale shimmer of one of Thrive's shields enveloping the car and, by extension, him.

"I'm the prince of the universe!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

His euphoria boomeranged back to him through his and Thrive's connection, and he was overcome with emotion, eyes welling as he embraced his life and the magic of being there, of doing something reckless, yet safe, and right, with the person he loved more than he could adequately articulate.

When he was once again secure in the vehicle and the door shut and locked, Thrive reached over to take his hand, and Warren pressed kisses into his knuckles, laid Thrive's palm against his face, heart full and happy. Thrive brushed his thumb across his cheekbone.

—

Thrive drove them to a lush park in the Southern Division, where he landed them in a designated spot out of the way. The second the car powered down, Warren lunged at Thrive, pulling him into an intense, passionate kiss that was prolonged for several minutes. Thrive cupped his face in his hands as they broke apart, and Warren noted with some amusement that when he was otherwise preoccupied Thrive had tinted the windows, which were already fogged up.

"Hey, man," Warren said breathlessly. "We're fucked."

"Likely." Thrive looked out at the park, observing the people for a moment. "I can't imagine the Consortium will take grand theft auto of a delegate's vehicle lightly, and I suppose my being king will only abridge our punishment enough to avoid prison."

"Regretting it?"

"Not at all." Thrive smiled at him. "...Are you?"

"I've had more fun than I think I've had since I was a very small child."

"It doesn't have to end here," Thrive said mysteriously. He nodded in the direction of a pathway curving away from the park around a corner. "Down there is a nuptial hall."

Warren took a deep breath. "You wanna get married again?"

"We've yet to cross the Node from our marriage itinerary, correct?"

"Yeah." Warren nodded. "Okay. Yeah, the kids'll just have to catch the next one."

Thrive laughed as they removed themselves from the car, all but powerwalking to the nuptial hall before Node security could track them down.

#ockiss23 #Darkspace Portent #pair: Sun & Moon #this was inspired by a Mass Effect fic I wrote years ago #and I listened to the last ever song for Darkspace Portent on repeat while writing this #which just hammered in the surreality of this piece lmao

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digitalsatyr23 · 2 years

Text

My Shadow

--Captain's Log: 32.9.66--

My crew and I have arrived on a most unusual world. Bereft of life, its moss-covered towers stand as a stark reminder of what must have lived here ages past. The planet is oxygen-rich and plentiful in water, so it's not as if life couldn't exist here... After our probes come back, we're going to suit up and investigate the surrounding area. While we haven't seen any movement, we can't be too sure. Thang is on edge and has kept hold of his rifle ever since we landed. Hopefully our investigations will ease the tension on the ship.

--Captain's Log: 32.9.67--

Still no sign of life, intelligent or otherwise. I did, however, come across a surprisingly well-preserved artifact that may help provide a clue. It's a primitive means of keeping track of events, like the written word we used so many years ago. I believe it's called a "diary". I've translated all the passages written within the diary and will include them in this log for posterity.

-1st Passage-

Dear Diary,

Today is my first day of high school. I'm a little nervous because I couldn’t make any friends in middle school, but mom and dad keep reassuring me that I'll find someone. They say that "There's no way a kid couldn't make a single friend in a school so big", but we'll see. I've never used a diary before, but I decided to start keeping track of things as a reminder of where I've been. Maybe these lonely days will fade into memory.

-2nd Passage-

Dear Diary,

I managed to hit it off with someone in my math class. Her name is Clarissa. Neither of us are very good at pre-algebra, but she invited me over to her place for a study session this weekend. I asked my parents and they said it was ok, so now I just need to figure out what I should bring. I think I'll bring snacks just in case. There's no guarantee there will be food for me there, and even if there is I don't want to impose.

-3rd Passage-

Dear Diary,

It's 10pm at night and I just can't fall asleep. Clarissa is asleep in her bed and I'm on the floor under my blanket, lighting you with my phone's flashlight. I saw something strange a little while ago that gave me the creeps. It was my shadow... Normally I don't pay it any mind because why would I? But I started noticing something strange about it. I swear it was trying to move toward the window. But I thought shadows were just things you cast when light hit you. A shadow can't move on its own, right? It's probably just my imagination.

-4th Passage-

Dear Diary,

Clarissa and her folks were gone by the time I woke up. I saw a note left behind that said they'd be back though, so I guess I have the place to myself for now. If I'm being honest, I really want to snoop around and see what I can find, but I probably shouldn't. Clarissa is really nice, and I don't want her to get mad at me.

-5th Passage-

Dear Diary,

Clarissa and her folks still aren't back yet, but it's almost 6pm. I would get it if they were going shopping and came back a couple hours later, but I haven't seen them since last night. What's the big idea? I tried calling mom and dad, but I couldn't get a hold of them. This is really weird... Clarissa's house doesn't have cable or internet, so I've just been browsing my phone to try and keep occupied. I hope nothing bad happened to them...

-6th Passage-

Dear Diary,

It's a new day and still no word from Clarissa, her parents, or mine. Every once and a while I catch sight of people outside, but there's something wrong with them. They're walking like zombies straight out of a horror movie, but it's with purpose. They're all going in the same direction, the same direction my shadow is pointing to. Nothing bad has happened to me, but I'm really freaked out. The only reason I'm still writing in this is to distract myself. I don't know what's going on!

-7th Passage-

Dear Diary,

It's been a few days. I haven't seen people in a while, and still no word from Clarissa or my folks. I... I think they're gone. I don't know for sure, but I feel like something really bad has just happened. I don't want to go outside. I'm scared, but I'm going to run out of food eventually. I'll give it a few more days. Maybe this will blow over and everything will go back to normal.

-8th Passage-

I don't feel like writing "Dear Diary" anymore on these. At this point the only reason I'm still writing is because it helps me focus. Calms me down. The power in the house has started to fail. My guess is whoever keeps a city's electricity going must be gone now. But that means the food in the fridge is going to rot. I can't stay here any longer. I have to get out of here, but where do I go? My shadow hasn't stopped pointing in that direction, but it's not like it can force me. Maybe there are other people like me somewhere? What I'd do just to see a friendly face.

-9th Passage-

I snuck into a supermarket, and I seem to have free rein of the place. The power is still on for some reason, but it's a pretty big store so it might have a back-up supply, or at least, I hope. I didn't see anyone on the way here, and there doesn't seem to be anyone in the store as far as I can tell. Just me and my shadow.

The aquarium is kind of sad. Since no one's around to feed the fish, a lot of them have died. I've never seen so many dead fish in one place. Something about the empty look in their eyes as they stay floating at the top is really unnerving to me. Is that what people look like when they die? I've never been to a funeral before. Given how things are going, I might not ever see one. Maybe that's a good thing. I don't know.

There's plenty to eat and drink here. The electronics section is still going strong. Lots of TVs on loop, some playing movies silently while others are blasting whatever was on. Most of them are just playing static.

There's lots of furniture and even some beds on display, but I don't want to sleep in an open area. I still don't know why everyone disappeared. Right now I'm hiding in a bathroom stall because even though no one is around, I can almost feel it in the air. I'm alone, but it doesn't feel like it... Does that make sense?

-10th Passage-

It's been a week here in the supermarket. No sign of any other survivors... Is that what I am? I must be. At this point I almost want to go after where those people went, the same direction my shadow is pointing. Maybe if I go that way, I'll finally see my parents again. Clarissa, too. Geez... I had only known Clarissa for a few days, but the longer I go without seeing anyone the more precious to me she becomes. Her soft blonde hair, her peach skin, her dreamy blue eyes... What am I saying? We're both girls. A girl can't love another girl, right? Although I'd accept anyone at this point. I just want to talk to someone. Anyone.

-11th Passage-

After thinking it over for a few days, I've decided to go after them. I'm going to follow my shadow. I don't know what will happen, but I have to know. I have to find some answers. There are a ton of things I can take with me, and I managed to find an unlocked car that still has gas. I've only driven a couple of times, but since no one else is on the road it won't be that hard, right?

I'm going to grab as many non-perishables and camping supplies as possible. There's no guarantee there will be food where I'm going. I have to make sure I'm prepared. Clarissa... I'll see you soon.

-12th Passage-

Driving is harder than I thought, but I've gotten the hang of it. If I don't go too fast it's easy enough to manage. I wish the radios would work. All I hear is static. I guess that makes sense. If no one is around to run the station, then why would there be music? I considered trying to find the building to a station to see if I could use it to contact someone, but I don't know how any of that works! I feel so useless... I can barely figure out variables, let alone operate a radio. Plus if my phone can't contact anyone, then why would a radio work? I just want to hear someone's voice... I've been listening to some old podcasts, but it just isn't the same.

-13th Passage-

I think I'm in a new state. Still no sign of anybody. I haven't even seen cows. Where did all the cows go?

-14th Passage-

I saw something today that scared the hell out of me. I've been sleeping in the car everyone and a while to take breaks and sometimes using gas stations as shelter, but today when I woke up, I saw someone... Only, they weren't moving on their own. Their body was on the ground being dragged, but by what? His shadow was pointing the same direction mine is, and the shadow looked incredibly long. Was his shadow dragging him? I haven't felt anything from my shadow, just seen it pointing. Almost like it’s trying to get to something. But what?

-15th Passage-

I'm starting to run into more of them. I'll call them "draggers" for ease of writing. I think I understand what's going on now, even if I don't really get it. People and even animals all seem to be heading toward the same direction. I think once their body's give out, the shadows keep pulling them on. I've seen over a dozen men and women, and even a couple of kids just getting dragged along the ground. These draggers don't seem to notice me, as one even bumped into my car before shifting away and continuing along the path. I've had to skirt around a couple since they were in the road. Why? Why is this happening!?

-16th Passage-

I miss mom and dad! Where are they?! Clarissa... Why did you leave me?

-17th Passage-

It's getting harder and harder to find supplies. I almost ran out of gas, but there's always at least one gas station within the car's reach. I've been making use of road maps to help navigate. It took a while to really understand them, but I have a better handle on them now.

... I think I'm heading toward Kansas.

-18th Passage-

Roads keep stretching on forever. Phone barely works now. I keep it plugged in a charger connected to the car. I have lots of pencils but... I just don't care anymore. I just want this to be over. I just want to wake up...

-19th Passage-

I ran over a bunch of draggers today. They were in my way and... Does it even matter? They're already dead. I doubt they feel pain. Some are even missing skin after getting dragged around for so long. It's gross, but I've grown numb to them. They're like ants, just marching on and on. I don't understand. I don't understand. I don't understand. I don't

-20th Passage-

Out of gas. Out of supplies. Almost out of pencils. Had to leave the car behind. Almost there. I can feel it. I don't need sleep anymore. I just have to get going. One step at a time.

-21st Passage-

Why do I keep writing? I... I can hardly hold my pencil anymore. It's like a ritual, I guess. Gives me something to hold onto. I... Almost lost my pencil there. Ha ha. Why would I write ha ha? That doesn't make sense. These are words. You can't hear words. No one can.

-22nd Passage-

mmmmmmmmmmmmm

-23rd Passage-

I can feel it. It's almost over. There's something just over the horizon. I'm getting closer...

-24th Passage-

I found it. I really really found it. All of this... It was all leading up to this. I finally know where my parents are. Where Clarissa and everybody else went. I understand. And now... I can finally join them. I... I guess I'm going to die. But we'll be together really soon.

Dear Diary,

Thank you.

-End of Diary-

My crewmates were understandably disturbed after hearing the translation. Something bad happened on this planet, but what? We haven't seen any sign of these "draggers" as this person put it. What did she see?

--Captain's Log: 32.9.68--

My crew and I made a big discovery today. I believe this is where everyone went. This place... Kansas, was it? According to the map our probes provided, we're almost in the center of this land. This thing, it looks like a giant ball of swirling darkness. Faint images of figures can be seen in it, but only if the sun hits it just right. Are these the shadows the diary spoke of? Beneath the orb is a giant hole in the ground. I don't want to risk getting too close. Whatever it is, it's dangerous. We can only watch from a distance as this orb continues to swirl around endlessly above a gaping maw in the earth.

--Captain's Log: 32.9.69--

One of my crew went missing. Our trackers lead us straight back to the orb, so if that's the case he might have... No, it's impossible. There's no way he'd fall prey to whatever that thing is. But then again, he was always a little weak willed. Maybe it affects the minds of those it comes in contact with?

--Captain's Log: 32.9.70--

I can't find any of my crew. They're all gone. The trackers all point to the same direction, all toward the orb of swirling shadows... Why? Without a full crew, I'm stranded here. What's more, I've noticed my own shadow started pointing toward the orb. Does it want to join them?

--Captain's Log: 32.9.71--

There's no other choice. I must go in. I've sent out a distress beacon, but I don't know how much longer my mind can resist the orb's effect. Luckily, I have plenty of cord I can use. I'll just tie myself to the ship and go from there. I'm not leaving this planet without my crew.

--End of Captain's Log--

Eventually, a ship arrived to investigate the distress beacon, but the planet was deemed too dangerous to land on. Images from space showed an abandoned ship and a length of cord that was severed near a giant hole in the ground, as well as a strange black orb that was floating above it. The planet known as Earth was catalogued under "Dead Worlds" and marked to be avoided. However, once every so often, a lone ship lands on the planet to investigate, and they too are absorbed into the swirling darkness. Perhaps one day we all will be one.

#writing #horror #short fiction #short story #science fiction #writers on tumblr #my fiction #my shadow #writeblr

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