#Merlin’s ghost probably makes an appearance somewhere along the line

[pinkytoothlesso11]

Oh, could we get commentary on the "Future" prompt of your Stricklake month collection? That was such a unique AU, I would love to hear if you had any more thoughts on the world building in that one. (If not, feel free to talk about anything else you'd like~⭐)

Oh no, I definitely WILL expand upon the lore of the future prompt!

First of all it was never meant to get so long, it was meant to be the same length as the other prompts but it was too interesting of an idea to leave at a cliffhanger. The cut off point was going to be when Barbara said “Walter?! What the hell?!” But I wasn't that mean and had to continue.

Thoughts outside of what I've written are that the robotic forms of the changelings were originally amulet like in appearance, but not like THE amulet. And like the amulet the 'suits' bonded to one individual. And then they're stuck with them. Sort of like a symbiote.

Strickler was unfortunate. He was the first to be bonded and he obviously freaked out, the squad of soldiers accompanying them, part of the rebellion, fired shots at him and Strickler reacted. Needless to say it was a bit of a mess. Luckily Nomura was there and saved him from being blown up.

Strickler was stuck in his robotic form for weeks until the leading scientists on the rebellion figured out how to get it off. It took months before they realised what this discovery meant.

And Jim would get Merlin’s last bit of magic through his amulet, the key to permanently shutting down G.U.N.M.A.R once and for all. Since the Eclipse blade is still the only way to stop him.

Oh and Aaarrrgghh and Blinky are still in this AU but they're Changelings. In the sense they have a robotic form. Blinky's a scientist called Brian and Aaarrrgghh's one of the heavy lifters of the rebellion. His real name is Arthur, but all Changelings have nicknames.

And yeah that's about it.

#directors commentary #Future prompt for Stricklake month #This AU really needs a name... #Stricklake #Freedom fighting changelings #Sci-fi #Jim Lake Jr #Blinky #Aaarrrgghh #Merlin’s ghost probably makes an appearance somewhere along the line #Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Actual long post

[minor-solemnity]

Curiosity pt.6

“Are you implying that I’m not good enough to blackmail?” Which well, that maybe isn’t what you should be annoyed by.

A month passes. You don’t talk in class, just keep your head bowed low, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. You ignore Tom in the hallways and in the lessons you share. You suppose that you should probably revert to calling him Riddle, but referring to a man you’ve had sex with by their last name, even in the comfort of your own head, makes you feel dirty.  

He tries to talk to you twice. He doesn’t try a third time.

You don’t tell Marie or Stephanie what’s transpired between you and Tom and eventually, they stop asking. You’re content to let them believe that whatever courtship or relationship they thought had been budding between the two of you had died. It’s easier to pretend that you’re just sad that you’ve missed your chance with Hogwarts’ most sought after bachelor. The truth is so much more complicated. 

The last of the bitter Scottish winter gives way into Spring and with it comes blue skies, crisp winds, and luscious greenery. Stephanie’s attention is fixed firmly on the final quidditch matches of the school year and Marie begins her yearly fretting over exams. You’re left in blessed peace to ruminate on and stew in your own misery. 

It’s far too early on a Saturday for you to be up, but the Great Hall is always empty until at least nine on the weekends and you’ve taken to avoiding large crowds lest you accidentally run into him. As expected, you’re alone save for the ghosts this morning. You’re stirring honey into your tea when a shadow falls over you. You don’t look up. The shadow coughs politely. You glower at your tea. The shadow sighs and there are footsteps and the sound of someone taking a seat opposite you. When you finally look up, Tom is watching you intently. Merlin, it’s so frustratingly easy to get distracted looking at him. The first thing you notice (and you hate that you do) is that he looks somewhat tense. His expression is a mask of polite indifference and his hands rest casually on the table in front of him but there is a tautness to his posture, as though he’s steeling himself for a fight. 

You think that that should please you. At one point, it definitely would have done, but right now you’re still too raw from the events of a month ago to feel anything other than resigned fatigue at his appearance. “You’ve been ignoring me.” He says, and though his tone is placid you can detect a hint of something hard lacing his consonants. 

“What good observational skills you have. Though that’s hardly a surprise, seeing as I’ve been on the receiving end of your interest for months at this point.” The anger at your own stupidity and his manipulation rears its head once more and you’re somewhat taken aback by how much venom has crept into your voice.

“Perhaps, if you’d let me explain-” 

“No.” You cut him off, gathering your things and shoving them into your bag with more force than is strictly necessary. “No, I will not let you explain. I think you made yourself perfectly clear the last time. You have what you want, your curiosity is sated. You have your own blackmail material on me, should you ever feel the need to use it, and all it took was-” You can’t finish the sentence. All it took was a little flattery and his clever tongue touching and playing with you until you’d… Really, it had taken nothing at all. “I don’t know what else you could possibly need to explain to me. I understand what I am to you and what this entire thing was about. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you just leave me alone.” You don’t hang around to see understanding dawn on Tom’s face, nor do you hang around to see resolve settle firmly on his shoulders.

Fifteen minutes later you’re sat with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees underneath a yew tree by the lake, your bag thrown haphazardly a few feet away. You stare at the lake and determinedly blink back the tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks. A horrible mix of embarrassment and anger is bubbling in your stomach and your hands shake as you reach down and tug blindly at strands of grass as if they are what your ire is directed at. Merlin, you’ve been stupid. Incredibly, horrendously stupid. You’d known that Riddle was bad news. You hadn’t trusted him from the moment he’d smiled down at you that evening in the dining hall. Almost every meeting between the both of you since had been a constant push and pull, neither of you willing to back down or give way… And now…

Now he has the information that he wanted and the game is up. You’ve lost. And all because somewhere along the line you had forgotten exactly why it was that he’d been interested in you in the first place. You’d let your imagination get the best of you and for a moment you’d let yourself believe that it wasn’t about Mr Larkins anymore. That he was there because of you. Just you and not the secrets that you had tried so hard to keep.

Merlin, what was he going to do with you now that he knew. Blackmailing a teacher (and you have to admit to yourself now that that was exactly what you had been doing) was a serious offence. Enough to get you expelled for sure. Muggles went to prison for blackmail, didn’t they? Would you be sent the Wizengamot? Or would Tom just hold it over your head for eternity? Surely not. He had no use for you now, after all; you can’t keep kidding yourself that he liked or wanted you. You can’t keep kidding yourself that that was part of why this was so painful. 

Beyond the fear you feel for your future, rejection is a bitter pill lodged in the back of your throat. 

“You might appreciate it if I left you alone, but I’d appreciate it if you stopped running away from me.” Tom’s voice is conversational, cheerful almost. You let out a strangled scream of annoyance. He hums a soft little laugh in response. He settles himself down beside you, long legs stretching out in from him, crossed over at the ankle. You notice he’s holding the folder. “You honestly think I’d blackmail you?” He asks, still in that conversational toned and you feel your hackles rise.

“Are you implying that I’m not good enough to blackmail?” Which well, that maybe isn’t what you should be annoyed by.

“You seem intent on misunderstanding everything I have to say, I see.” He says and, at last, something approaching annoyance enters his voice. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s frowning slightly. As in the Great Hall, his posture suggests he’s at ease, he’s taken his tie off and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. But something is lurking beneath his relaxed exterior that suggests he’s nervous. “I have no intention of blackmailing you. At first, perhaps, but not any longer. And…” You drop the pretence of not looking at him entirely and turn full to face him. He doesn’t look at you and you get the impression that whatever he’s trying to say does not come easily. “I apologise if that’s the impression I gave you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at the apology, which whilst stilted, appears genuine. Then, almost immediately after narrow in suspicion and indignation. “What other impression could you possibly have given me? Apart from, maybe, toying with me for your own amusement.” You ask acidly.

His jaw clenches and you notice dimly that he’s making hardly any effort to hide his emotions. He’s almost an open book. Which is… strange. You’re reminded of all the times that Tom’s treatment of you has left you feeling confused. Confused because he doesn’t act the same way around you as he does with the rest of your peers. He’ll put on a facade of politeness, sometimes, but it usually unravels within minutes. You’ve watched him charm and flatter the worst of your professors, that small careful smile never faltering until they’re putty in his hands.

He’s tried to intimidate, taunt, and seduce you but he’s never tried to charm you. The realisation hits you harder than you’d like. But so what that Tom doesn’t seem to think you’re worth the effort? Does it matter that he drops his perfect little persona around you? Yes, the quiet, treacherously hopeful voice in your mind whispers, yes it matters. Of course, it matters.

“That we were having fun, perhaps?” He says at last and he looks pained just saying it. As though telling you that some part of him had enjoyed your company and had assumed that you enjoyed his is physically uncomfortable to admit. Maybe it is. “That I believed you and I had some level of understanding regarding our relationship?” 

You ask incredulously, “Has this been your way of flirting with me, Tom?” At the sound of his name on your lips, he turns to face you and you can practically see him come undone. His throat constricts around a swallow and you can’t stop yourself from tracing the column of his neck to where his collarbones, surprisingly delicate and sharp protrude from the collar of his open shirt with your eyes. He follows your gaze intently. “You never tried to charm me.” You murmur, finally bring your gaze to meet his.

“I’ve only ever been honest with you,” He replies, his voice equally soft. An admission that his persona is mostly a lie, used to trick and manipulate everyone else. Maybe that should put you off, make you turn away from him for good. It doesn’t. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know you when the few things I did know were so interesting. You can’t blame me for liking you more when I found out the rest.” It’s strange, knowing that the parts of you that usually stop people from liking or trusting you are what draws him to you. Then again, maybe it isn’t strange at all. You’re remarkably similar in so many ways, after all. “I thought, perhaps, that you regretted it.” Regretted me, is what he means. Is what he won’t say. Is what you hear nonetheless. 

You’ll need to talk more later; you need to know what he intends to do with the knowledge of your blackmailing schemes but later. Right now… You lick your lower lip and you don’t miss the way he tracks the movement. “I don’t. Regret it.” He nods once, a short decisive shake of his head. You’ve made up your mind. “You should kiss me now.” And he does. He shifts and suddenly you’re being dragged to his side, one large hand curving around your waist and another cupping your jaw, his fingers tangling in your hair. 

You feel like maybe, you’ve just won the best kind of game there is.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #minific

[lovelystarlings]

Chapter Seven - Peeves The Poltergeist

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

"You are not coming with us." Ron shouted, a look of horror on his face.

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us, I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and Camille will back me up." The French girl nodded at Hermione's convincing words; she would definitely rat the boys out in order not to get in trouble.

"Oh, the audacity-" Ron spat, face red with embarrassment.

"Shut it, both of you!" Harry whispered; his face wiped clean of all emotions but fear. "I can hear something."

"Hello?" Camille called out quietly, her voice echoing throughout the empty corridor.

A small sniffle sounded in reply, the group moving forward slowly to look further into the corridor. It was a boy, Neville. He was curled up in a ball on the floor, tears staining his cheeks. He seemed asleep, jumping awake when Camille gently tapped his shoulder.

"Camille! Thank goodness you've found me! I've been out here for hours waiting for someone to walk past me! I forgot the password to get back to bed and the portrait wouldn't let me in!" The boy rushed out, grabbing Harry's outstretched hand, and pulled himself up and onto his feet.

"Keep it down, Neville. The password's 'Pig Snout', you should probably write that down so you don't forget. Not that it will help you now, the Fat Lady's gone somewhere. We're all locked out."

"Hey, how's your arm?" Camille asked.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute, it was quite clever actually."

"That's great Neville!" Camille spoke, her hands examining his arm, not that she didn't trust Madame Pomfrey, she was just intrigued.

"Look, we have stuff to do, so I'm afraid we're going to have to go-"

"Don't leave me!" Neville shouted, clinging onto Camille's sleeve like a child would its mother, "The Bloody Baron's already been round twice and I don't want to make it a third!"

Sighing, Ron looked from Neville to the watch he wore loosely on his wrist. Throwing a glare to Hermione and Camille, who was still holding onto Neville tightly, he sighed. 

“If either of you two get us caught I will personally feed you to the giant squid myself!” Neville grasped onto Camille tighter, and Hermione moved herself closer to the French girl who was looking at Ron with disappointment.

“Just be quiet,” she hissed, gesturing for Harry and Ron to carry on walking, letting go of Neville and grabbing Hermione’s hand, leaning into her slowly and whispering. 

“If you want to go just say and I’ll leave with you, I’m kinda tired anyways.” Hermione smiled softly, shaking her head. “No it’s fine, I’m the one who wanted to come anyways.” The girl spoke softly, looking forward at the boys ahead. “Now let's go, before they’re too far away.”

The five Gryffindor’s made their way along the corridors, moonlight shining through the windows as they looked around carefully, wary of Filch and his cat, Mrs Norris. The halls of Hogwarts were beautiful, alike the exterior of the school. Paintings of other famous witches and wizards coated the walls, each having their own conversation with the painting next to them. 

Speeding up the staircase to the third floor, Camille locked eyes with the trophy room that they had arranged to meet in, no Malfoy or Crabbe in sight. The five bustled into the room, each looking around in wonder at the crystal trophy cases that surrounded them.  

“He’s late,” Ron whispered. “Maybe he’s chickened out.”

A noise in the next room caught Camille’s attention, her hand immediately reaching out for Hermione’s and her arm wrapping tighter around Neville, who was once again shaking with fear. 

The voice of Filch, the caretaker, echoed through the room, “Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.” Camille cringed completely at the man’s way of speaking to his cat. 

The five began to edge toward the door as Filch got closer to the trophy room, Camille whispering quietly to the others while gesturing towards a long line of suits of armor. She could still hear the heavy steps of Filch behind them, and the heavy meowing of his cat as they itched closer to the group of Gryffindors. 

Turning around to check that everyone was together, Camille caught sight of Ron’s loose thread on his dressing gown that was trailing on the floor dangerously close to the suits of armor. She edged towards the ginger boy, her eyes locked on that bloody loose threat that could ruin their escape. “Ron,” she whispered aggressively, Ron not hearing her as he continued to walk with Harry. “Ron your dressing gown!” She whispered louder, however it was too late. Neville, the nervous boy he was, had jumped out of fright and startled Ron, who continued to trip over the loose thread and fall into the nearest coat of armor, causing a clanging and crashing that could awake the whole castle.

“Run!” Harry yelled as the five began to sprint down the hallway, ignoring the caretaker chasing after them. They ran around the doorpost and sped down the next corridor, Camille holding her wand in her hand firmly, still unsure of what could be lurking the halls of Hogwarts. Harry ripped through a tapestry, the others following him, finding themselves in a hidden passage. Camille breathed shakily as she looked around the dark hall, shivering as she caught sight of the many spiderwebs that surrounded them. 

Continuing to run, Camille found herself near the Charms classroom they had been in just hours earlier, miles from the trophy room. Camille leaned against the wall, catching her breath as Harry next to her. “I think we lost him,” he panted looking at the girl, her mouth curling into a smile as she wiped the sweat off of her forehead. 

“You think?” She said, Harry beginning to smile along with her, neither seeing the jealous glance Hermione was giving them. 

“What did I say,” Hermione breathed, her hands clutching her chest as she bent over next to Neville and Ron, the latter whose face was redder than his hair. 

“We need to get back to the common room,” Rom spoke aloud, “Like right now, before Filch catches up and we all end up in detention.”

“Draco tricked you,” Camille spoke, not missing the weird look she got from the rest at calling him his first name. As a child, she had always been told that to address people your own age properly is to address them by their first name, not their middle nor their last. And despite the blonde boy having already insulted many of her peers, Camille was not one to be rude to those she did not truly know. “He must have never planned to meet you, and Filch already knew someone was in the trophy one, Draco must have tipped him off.”

Hermione nodded along with the girl, clearly having thought the same thing. 

“Let’s just go. ” The boy uttered softly.

A slight noise came from the door, a rattling, as if someone was attempting to enter. A white blur shot through the door and out of the classroom in front of them. 

Peeves, the poltergeist that had been terrorising other first years on their first day floated in front of them, cackling in delight at catching them in the act. 

“Ohh, ickle firsties out after curfew. Ickle firsties wandering around at night, aren’t you naughty? Tut tut tut, you’ll get caught.” The ghost chuckled, circling the five as they looked around, afraid Filch would appear at any time. 

“Leave us alone Filch, please.” Camille whispered pleadingly, her hands fiddling with the end of her robe, having tucked her wand back in her pocket a few minutes ago. 

“I really should tell Flich, you know?” The poltergeist spoke smugly. 

“Oh just go away,” Ron snapped, pushing past Peeves and continuing to walk. Camille sighed and brought her hand to her temple; she should’ve just stayed in bed. 

“Students out of bed!” The poltergeist yelled, his arms waving frantically. “Students out of bed and down the Charms corridor!” Camille and the others ducked under the ghost and ran into the nearest door; it was locked. 

“What are we meant to do now?” An exasperated Ron asked, his face-in Camille’s opinion-looking like he had eaten a sour lemon. “We’re done for! This is the end of our school lives as we know it!” 

Camille continued to pull at the door, her hands clamming up as they heard the footsteps of Filch edge closer. Hermione, seeing the girl’s panic, stepped in with her own wand raised. “Here,” she spoke gently, pulling the other girl away with her other hand. “Let me try.” Camille watched with wide eyes as her friend tapped the lock gently and whispered a quick unlocking spell.

The door unlocked and the Gryffindor’s bundled in the room, shut the door quickly and pressed up against it, attempting to listen through it. 

“Which way did they go, Peeves?” Camille could hear Filch ask through the door, her hand shaking as it grasped for someone else’s in search for comfort. 

“Manners don’t cost a thing my dear Filch.” The poltergeist chuckled. 

“Just tell me for Merlin's sake.” The caretaker shouted, his anger growing. 

“Say pleaseeeeee.” Camille felt a lump rise in her throat at the thought of peeves actually giving up where they were. She had never had a detention before, and did not want to get one in her first week at Hogwarts. She shivered as she felt someone breath heavily down her neck, distracting her from what was occurring outside the door. 

Turning around, she froze in her spot. She had sworn this was a classroom, it looked the exact same as the one she had been in earlier, except now she looked closer, she spotted something that had blended in the darkness. A giant three headed dog. She thought back to the lack of portraits she had seen as they ran into the classroom and realised they were on the third floor. The forbidden corridor of the third floor. 

“Harry,” she whispered sharply, tugging on his sleeve as the dog growled softly, its three heads looking at the five carefully, its mouth open as if it was as shocked as she was. 

Harry turned along with the girl, his eyes widening also as he stared at the humongous creature, debating running out to Filch rather than stay in that room. Reaching his hand out, the boy pushed the door open and ran, the others following suit; they too had noticed the dog. Eventually reaching the seventh floor, the five stopped in front of the Fat Lady painting, of which looked very disappointed in the group. 

“Where have you lot been? It’s almost midnight!” She spoke, shaking her head at the sweaty children. 

“Pig-snout,” Camille spoke quietly, just wanting to get into bed. “Pig-snout!”

The portrait swung open and the sweaty bunch piled in, Camille collapsing on the armchair next to Hermione who looked at her with a smile. “Well that was fun, wasn't it?”

“What do they think they’re doing?” Ron spoke from his place on the other sofa with Harry and Neville, “keeping an animal like that in the school? Safest school in Scotland my arse.”  

Hermione sighed at the three boys, “You really don’t use your eyes do you? No wonder you need glasses Harry. Didn't you see what it was standing on?” 

Camille rubbed her eyes and leaned her head onto Hermione’s shoulder.

“It was standing on a trapdoor,” the French girl spoke in a bored voice. “Now if we’re all done here, can I please go to bed.”

“Yes,” Hermione spoke, moving Camille’s head off of her shoulder and standing up. ““I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to bed.” 

The girl stormed off, Camille following in suit with a tired wave to the boys. 

#harry #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hermione #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #fluff #hogwarts #veela #fleur delacour

[reformedkingsmanagent]

Hello! Would I be able to request #132 from the prompt list with charlie?

Prompt: General #132 “I haven’t slept in four days…”

Pairing: Charlie x reader

Word Count: 1065

You sat down at the table, a stack of books crashing down out of your arms. The other three recruits jumped awake and looked around wildly before realizing it had just been you. “Do you think you could maybe not do that?” Charlie complained.

“We need to look these over before tomorrow.” You said, hearing the exhaustion in your own voice. Everyone grumpily grabbed one of the books from the stack and silence returned to the room.

No one was sure what they were supposed to be looking for, but Merlin had hinted that field manuals were always important. Sure that the next task might have something to do with extreme survival, you suggested that they pour over the old field manuals to brush up on survival tactics. If the four of you were sent somewhere together, you stood a better chance. Divide and conquer.

“What if they split us all up?” Roxy asked.

“Then we have a 25% chance that we each read the very thing that will help us.” Charlie shrugged.

“Yeah, but why can’t we just take another written exam?” Eggsy sat up. “This seems a bit excessive.”

“You can write about building a raft from the resources at hand, but unless you’ve actually done it, it means nothing.” You closed the book and set it on the table, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I haven’t slept in four days…”

“It has been an unusual amount of time between our last test and this one,” Roxy agreed.

“I’m going to bed. I can’t even make out the letters.” Eggsy gestured to the book in his hands. He stood and tossed the book down on the table, but paused before leaving the group. “If we wake up somewhere else tomorrow, good luck.” Everyone nodded at him, and he left to go lay down.

“I think Eggsy’s right. We’ve done all we can at this point.” Roxy said, forcing you and Charlie to glance up at her. “We could read every single one of these books and it probably won’t make a difference.”

“There has to be something important about them, or why would Merlin have mentioned them?” You suggested.

Roxy sighed. “I don’t know, but i’m going to bed. You both should too.” Charlie glanced at you, and you looked back at him. After a moment of waiting for someone to agree with her, Roxy shut her own book but took it with her to her bed, probably planning to read until she fell asleep.

You returned to the book in your hands, hoping for some insight, some explanation for all of this. When you found you were rereading the same line over and over again without noticing, you slammed the book shut in frustration.

“Maybe we should rest.” Charlie closed his own book and set it on the table, taking the one from your hands and forming a new stack.

“I hate this cryptic shit.” You complained. “Merlin’s probably watching us right now, taking bets on who will guess the true meaning of this test first.”

He smiled and leaned over the arm of his chair so he was closer. “Want to go for a walk?”

Being alone with Charlie? Unnerving. There had only been a couple of times where the two of you were separated from the others. Each time, you felt your appreciation of him grow. Your feelings grew. You were worried about letting yourself become distracted by him, but you felt like you couldn’t tell him no.

“Okay.”

Charlie stood, offering you a hand. You took it, doing your best to not memorize the way it felt or how much bigger it was than yours.

You fully expected him to drop your hand as soon as you were on your feet, but he didn’t. He dragged you along and out of the room, leaving a sleeping Eggsy and Roxy behind.

Outside, walking on the grounds, the two of you maintained a leisurely pace.

He spoke first. “We won’t all make it through these tests.” It wasn’t a question, and you didn’t want to think about it. You were already surprised you had made it this far. Surprised, and also grateful. “But I would like it if we could keep in contact, either way.” Your pace slowed, and instead of letting your hand go he stopped as well. “I only mean-”

“No, I would like that.” You allowed a small smile to appear, wondering if he would remember once he was made the new Lancelot. “Though it’ll probably wind up being a bunch of drunk texts or something silly…” you joked.

Charlie laughed. It put you a little more at ease. It was both easy and hard to like Charlie. At first, he had been a complete dick to everyone, but as the recruits thinned out, he became less and less confrontational. There was no denying that if given the motivation, he and Eggsy would strangle each other, but they were able to remain civil most of the time.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, a slight smile hiding in his features.

“About how a few months ago, we couldn’t have sat down and had a conversation,” you confessed.

The ghost of a smile disappeared. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Hey, don’t take it personally. I’m not talking about just you. All of us, sitting there, splitting work evenly, totally comfortable with each other…It’s just nice, isn’t it?”

He nodded, looking away. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What? Too stubborn to admit you don’t totally hate us?” 

“I never hated you.” The words seemed significant, and you turned to look at Charlie. “I know I make an ass of myself on a regular basis, but I don’t hate you.”

“Sorry, Charlie, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright.” 

He did his best to hide his frown, but you noticed. The two of you continued to walk, eventually stopping at a stone bench. Talking about nothing important, the two of you relaxed. Charlie soon leaned in, cutting off your latest ramblings with a kiss. It was a kiss you were glad to return until the sprinklers came on.

It was certainly fun to explain to Eggsy and Roxy why the two of you stomped back into the room a bit later, dripping wet. You and Charlie just shared a knowing glance whenever the teasing started up and it made it tolerable.

#charlie hesketh x reader #kingsman #prompt #general #writing

[themoderndana]

Skoki: Not as Stinky as it Sounds

Hey you guys,

Matt had to work July Long Weekend so I did my first trip ever where it was all up to Yours Truly to carry the food AND the tent, figure out how to mix the chemicals that make water safe to drink, and above all keep myself company.

Being alone on the trail makes me feel quite untethered; joyful but with nowhere to express the joy; ruminative with no one to interrupt oneself to; concerned but with no one other than oneself to really deal with whatever is coming.

Above you see the view behind me; looking back down the trail at the ever present Mt. Temple.

Below you can see old-ass Skoki Rest Lodge, where tired travellers have broken bread for 85 years while skiing in to Skoki Lodge. The cabin smells old. It has been around since before plastic wrap, tech fabrics, selfies and the Trudeaus.

There are 4 ghosts of skiiers rumoured to roam these parts; they play poker all night and drink rum, which has been around at least since Blackbeard’s time, so there’s one thing that predates the cabin.

Below is the view from the back window of the cabin. Mt. Ptarmigan!!!!

Fast forwarding a bit. By the time I hit the cabin I had hiked aroun 7 or 8km. I took a side trip to a place called Hidden Lake, which is tucked in below Mt. Ptarmigan, above. You hike up up up to the bowl before the mountain and there were still chuncks of ice floating on the lake. I love hiking up to mountain lakes because it’s fun to follow the stream to the source and see the hyrdological path from start to well, somewhere along the line (the finish must be the Bow River? which flows through Calgary. What a journey for little drops of water!)

Anyway I cam back down from Hidden Lake and started up Boulder Pass to the valley before Deception Pass (so named because it looks like you are not getting anywhere?)

I took a yoga- and snack-break and was feeling quite pleased with myself until 15 minutes into the trail when i realised I left my phone on the trail after snapping the first pictures of the trip. Three days in the woods with no way to document it?? No way Jose!!!

I ran back down the trail, learned a perfectly nice couple had picked it up and sent it down the trail with a big slow moving family, and kept running. I found them at rest in the cabin and then I resumed my journey. It took like 45 minutes out of the day and the trall was noticeably busier after my detours.

Ok so once you get over Boulder Pass (so named for some craggy boulders that landed there, by the looks of them, last week, but probably 10,000 years ago) you are treated to this totally savage and wild valley that appears to stretch on forever. Two big lakes are whumped right in the middle of it. You hike up Deception Pass, past a nice tourist family who is resting en route to Skoki Lodge (very fancy but you MUST get there on your own steam) and here is the panorameathat awaits you on the way down:

Left, Ptarmigan Peak, right, Wall of Jericho. As you will recall the lake called Hidden is on the other side of Ptarmigan.

The Lakes tucked in between Ptarmigan and Wall of Jericho are called Myosotis and Zygadenus, but for the purposes of this blog I shall call them Zygadana. I’m not sure if you can tell but it is so beautiful and impressive I almost cried.

Those are larches all over the place, I would definitely barf if I went in larch season.

Above is the view from the creek whence I drew water on the way down into Skoki Valley due to my parched condition.

Behold below Merlin Meadows, where I camped the first night! 

I went to bed at 8:30 after a dehydrated meal (it turned orange in my Nalgene and looked radioactive but I’m positive it was just ramen.) 

So the next day I got up bright and early and did a side trip to Merlin Lake, because i looooove a good lake in a cirque. Below is the clever sculpture denoting the fork in the road between the path to Packer’s Pass and Merlin Lake.

You hike up up up through the woods until the trail flattens out on the side of the Wall of Jericho. You then traverse the scree below the wall, sun shining on you always, water trickling past occasionally, the vast Merlin Valley below you. Marmots lick salt off rocks and do not give a crap you are there at all. At the back of the valley there is a headwall you must scramble up or the day’s over. Over the lip of the headwall (surprisingly not too bad getting up there) you are treated to this very lively and utterly human free place where the lake is slowly filling up with glacier melt and draining into the valley at the same time.

Here’s the rocky view form the top of the headwall:

Here’s the meadow where the lake is.

Ok so after a magical morning at Merlin Lake I descended, packed up my tent, and boogied on down the trail to my next campsite. However there was a ton of evidence of recent avalanche activity. This winter there were some bonkers weekends for avalanches. In particular on March 18 the entire Rockies were level 5, very unstable, don’t even fart out there avalanche danger. Not only were normal exposure places experiencing very unpredictable and unstable conditions, they were draining with bigger runout paths and slides in previously rare or unseen paths were triggered as well.

You can tell it has been a while when mature trees are torn down by the sliding snow, as below:

This is just one lil example. The entire creek between Fossil and Skoki mountains, which you cross in between to get to campsites on the other side, was rife with evidence of recent slides. I climbed over some precarious timber stacked on top of each other and got a bootful of water in like a new river bed created where the snow was melting.

I took a detour to Red Deer Lakes campsite and went looking for the lake. I got tired and gave up before I found it but the campsite was lovely. Here’s Oyster Mountain and a cool old sign for cowboys directing me back to Baker Lake:

Below is the valley en route to Baker Lake from Red Deer Lakes. To my right is Fossil Mountain, between me and my campsite from the first night at Merlin meadows. Before me is Heart Mountain and Crooked Mountain and some other neat stuff.

Ok so here’s Baker Lake, with a pool behind it, where it is, like all lakes, draining into a valley.

Rushing waterfall behind the lake.

Again I tried to go to bed as early as possible. For some reason I was feeling impatient and wanted to get the heck out of there though I had a nice soak up to my knees in the lake and met a couple from San Francisco who let me use their water filter and ask about their travels. 

The next morning I departed good and early as is my wont, and here is the valley on the way out:

Here is a mountain across the valley with the first few hours of light on the grasses:

Here is the trail, past Boulder Pass and nearing the boring kilometres down the access road. Mt. Temple on the horizon guiding you home.