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Adventure - Blog Posts
This FALL!
Templar: THEIR GETTING AWAY!
Malik: Keep running Leo!
Leonardo: IM TRYING!
For the most anticipated Adventure of a life time!
Leonardo: AH! *trips* MALIK HELP!
Malik was to far into the woods to hear.
Templar: we got you now! *shoots by Leo's leg*
Leonardo: AAH! *shakes*
Templar leader: YOU IDIOT DON'T SHOOT HIM! That's leonardo da Vinci, one bullet in him and we could all be sent back to the dark ages!
Join Malik al sayf
Malik: I think we lost them leo. Leo? *turns head around* ... oh sh*t! Leo I'm coming!
Malik started running back after leonardo.
Templar: sorry sir!
Templar leader: don't start, cause you could have bla bla-
As they argued Leonardo saw the perfect opportunity to divides his escape. He saw a rock next to him, the size of a small tennis ball, he picked it up and then started running.
Templar leader: DAMN IT! DON'T JUST STAND THERE AFTER HIM!
And Leonardo da Vinci
Leonardo stopped when he got far enough away.
Templar: you got no where to run!
Templar leader: now, hand over the drive!
Leonardo: *pants* *throws the rock but over shots it and ducks*
Malik: Leo I'm here-!
Templar: Wow! *miss fires by accident*
Instead of hitting Leonardo it end up hitting something.
Templar leader: you idiot what did I JUST SAY!
Templar: my bad.
Templar leader: Whatever, nice try Da Vinci, but a little rock isn't gonna stop us-
The rock hits a loos heavy brench above the two templars and started to break off from the tree.
Templar leader: so why don't you just come with us and- *gets crushed by the gaint tree brench* AAH-
The two templars were crushed by the gaint tree branch making them unconscious.
The Epic Adventures of Malik and Leonardo
Leonardo: Hey! It worked, I did it! *turns around* Malik did you-
Malik: grr... *right hand covering the hole in his chest*
Leonardo: Oh my goodness! Are you alright?!
Malik: I have, a f@#$ing hole in my chest! WHY DIDN'T YOU BLOCK THAT ONE!
Leonardo: I thought you had it!
Malik: Nooo!
COMING SOON
So I hope you guys liked this written out trailer of a thing I'm working on, called the epic adventures of Malik and Leonardo. So basically it is exactly what the title states it is so ya the story is basically gonna be about Malik and leonardo battling their way threw templars trying to get back home.
There will be...
drama! Heart break! Comedy! ACTION! ADVENTURE!!!
So don't miss out on this epic tale that I made out of boredom cause of school and covid!
— Snow Witch Aesthetic ❄️
Another video I made. This time about Finn doing something stupid that even Mater’s pissed off.
It’s kind interesting to note how Mater rarely gets angry so I chose the one where he’d be at the most angry. Lightning has a lot of angry expression and Holley, I love her reactions. Especially after Finn gives his reason for why he’s got them killed!
Made a book. Need thoughts. Tell me what y'all think. Please. (^._.^)ﾉ
Guys look at this cool tree i found one time, it's bark is weird looking.
And here's are some snails I found in a pond too
And here's some salamanders as well
If anyone is interested please check it out.
Chapter 4: I see you
Content Warnings for Chapter 4:
Child Abuse (Physical and Emotional)
Neglect and Abandonment
Drug Abuse Mention
Domestic Violence
Mentions of Poverty and Financial S
trugglesTrauma and PTSD
ThemesMental Health Struggles (Insanity/Breakdowns)
Graphic Descriptions of Injury/AbuseDissociation and Psychological Distress
viewer discretion is advised ⚠️
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My footsteps echoed softly through the unfamiliar halls, each step carrying me closer to a classroom I had never entered before. There was no sense of certainty about what awaited me beyond its door, only a quiet apprehension that lingered in my chest. After signing a consent form handed to me at the entrance, something unexpected happened—the paper itself shimmered faintly, folding and twisting until it transformed into a mask resting delicately in my hands.
I recognized its shape almost instantly, though only from the books I had devoured back at the facility. It was a kitsune mask, a relic often associated with spirits and tricksters from old tales. Traditionally, these masks covered the entire face, which struck me as suffocating and isolating—perhaps a personal bias formed from my own sensory sensitivities. To my relief, however, this mask was only a half-mask, designed to shield my eyes rather than my whole face. A practical adjustment, I assumed, meant to make it less overwhelming to wear.
Ms. Tess, who had been silently observing my reaction, stepped forward and explained the mask's true purpose. It was not simply an ornament or a ceremonial object—it was a tool. A containment device meant to dampen the constant flood of visions and fractured moments that relentlessly played across my mind like a broken film reel. With the mask in place, the overwhelming torrent of future flashes would ease, granting me at least a fleeting sense of normalcy.
She also gently suggested that I visit her every Friday—a standing invitation to what she called 'sensory moments.' These were designed to ground me, a time dedicated to unraveling the tension knotted inside my mind. Apparently, my powers were not only fueled by external triggers but also amplified by my own relentless overthinking, the constant hum of unease I carried with me. It was this internal chaos, she explained, that kept my abilities flaring wildly out of control, leaving me drained and vulnerable.
Those fleeting thoughts, fragile as fallen leaves beneath my feet, crumbled the moment I stood before the door. Room 206—a name so ordinary for a place that felt anything but.
My knuckles rapped softly against the wood, and with a breath caught between hesitation and resolve, I pushed the door open.
"As predicted, here she is."
The voice belonged to the professor, whose gaze flickered toward me with the faintest trace of expectation. I lifted my eyes to meet theirs, offering a plain, almost weightless, "Good morning," before stepping fully into the room—a presence without fanfare, yet not without gravity.
My gaze drifted over the room, tracing each unfamiliar face. Eleven students. Only eleven.
So, they weren't exaggerating after all. Those who walk the uncertain paths tied to time itself—our kind—are rare as cracks in the sky. From what I see, they all have unique different objects they wear to help them control their powers, which is quite amazing to think that there's this one girl who have her eyes blindfolded.
"Please introduce yourself." The professor said as I nodded. "Good morning. I am Tachibana Hagarin..."
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Curious gazes devoured my presence the moment I settled into my seat. I suppose I couldn't blame them—a new face in a room so small was bound to attract attention. The silence that followed pressed against my skin like a second atmosphere, thick and unrelenting.
"For the continuation of our lesson," the professor's voice cut through the hush like a knife against glass, "we begin at Chapter 5."
A pause—deliberate, heavy.
"Dark Triad."
The words slithered into the air, curling like smoke around the edges of my mind.
"The Dark Triad refers to Narcissism, Machiavellianism, and Psychopathy—three personality traits bound together by manipulation, absence of empathy, and an insatiable hunger for control."
The professor's voice echoed within the hollow of my thoughts, and for once, the clarity of it felt almost indulgent. My mind had been left unclouded for days, all thanks to the mask resting against my face — a fragile shield between my sanity and the endless unraveling of time.
Even so, I couldn't help but wonder why we were treading the waters of psychology in the first place.
This was supposed to be a class for those who twist time itself — so why did this feel like an autopsy for the mind?
When the class ended after 2 hours, I finally reached the schedule of vacant time. I was quietly thinking of what to do with the given 2 hours of vacant but suddenly...
A pen rolled near my shoe, its faint clatter against the cold floor somehow louder than it should have been. I leaned forward, fingers poised to grasp it—
"No!"
The word cracked like a whip through the air, sharp enough to slice through my hesitation. I looked up to see a girl, panic carved into every step she took as she nearly stumbled toward me, her shoe sending the pen skittering across the room.
"You shouldn't touch it," she whispered, her voice low and urgent, as if the walls themselves had ears.
I followed the flicker of her gaze to a boy slouched near the back, his grin stitched too wide across his face, a glint in his eye that spoke of cruelty reserved for those who knew no limits.
"Why?" My voice was calm, but curiosity curled beneath it like smoke.
"That pen," Clara murmured, fingers trembling as they curled into her sleeves, "has been laced with someone's twisted magic. If you touched it, you would've been swallowed whole — into a room stitched from riddles and silence. A place where you could scream until your voice breaks, and still no one would hear you."
Her words tasted like truth, bitter and lingering.
"But you kicked it," I pointed out, my voice softer now. "Wouldn't that count as contact?"
She shook her head, strands of hair sticking to the sweat gathering at her temple. "No... It needs skin. It craves warmth. Bone, flesh, the pulse beneath your fingertips. Shoes are just leather and rubber. They hold no soul."
Her eyes drifted back to the boy — the architect of this sick game — who merely offered a laugh that sounded more like something choking on itself.
"Just be careful," Clara said, voice dipping lower. "You're new. You don't want to end up... you know... a plaything."
I offered a nod, the weight of her words settling across my shoulders like a damp cloak. "Thank you for the warning."
There was silence, then her hand stretched toward me, trembling just slightly. "I'm Clara."
I took her hand — cold skin against mine — and held it for a breath longer than I meant to. "Hagarin."
A pause, then: "Can I ask... more about this place? This department?"
Clara sighed, her expression caught somewhere between pity and exhaustion, before she sank into the seat beside me.
"I'll tell you everything I can," she said, her voice no louder than a prayer, "in hopes it makes you feel a little less like prey."
When Clara settled beside me, I let my gaze linger on her — a habit born from survival rather than curiosity. Her hair, a shade too soft for this place, was braided into a bun plait, too delicate for a room that reeked of fear. The strands twisted like a noose, and at its center, her monocle gleamed like an artificial eye — an elegant restraint to a power I knew she could barely hold back.
"Where would you like to start?" Her voice cut through my observation like a scalpel, precise and clinical.
I averted my gaze, as though looking too long would unravel me. "I suppose... we could start with the culture here. What do people do in a place like this?"
Clara's smile was thin, barely there, like a ghost caught between walls. "Culture," she repeated, as though the word was foreign, a relic long buried beneath dust and rot.
She folded her hands in her lap, knuckles pale. "This building breathes silence. Not by design, but by consequence. We are few — a species on the verge of extinction, clinging to corridors stained with the mistakes of those who came before us. But we all share the same disease."
Her voice dropped into something brittle. "The disease of seeing too much."
I felt my stomach twist. "And the subjects you study?"
"Psychology, History, Philosophy, Sociology, Politics," she listed them like names on gravestones.
"Why?" I asked, though I already knew the answer would taste bitter.
"Because if you lose your mind, your power will devour you." Her words carried the weight of a funeral prayer. "This place is a coffin for those who couldn't hold their own sanity together — their powers grew wild, untethered, until they swallowed them whole. If you can't control your mind, you can't control the time."
Clara scratched at her temple, the skin red and irritated, as though her own thoughts were a splinter beneath the flesh.
"These subjects aren't about learning — they're about survival. You study history so you don't repeat your own mistakes. You study psychology so you understand the voices crawling inside your head. Philosophy teaches you to question your reality before it eats you alive. Sociology reminds you that you aren't the only monster walking these halls. And politics..."
She trailed off, but another voice filled the void.
"Politics teaches you the rules of power. Knowing when to kneel — and when to slit a throat."
The footsteps were soft, measured, each one deliberate like the ticking of a clock. A boy stood before us, the air around him heavy with calculation. His uniform was too neat, his posture too perfect, like he belonged in a portrait rather than this crumbling room.
His smile was polite, but his eyes were scalpel-sharp, stripping me bare in a single glance. "Sanity is currency here," he said. "If you lose it, your power consumes you from the inside out. So, we sharpen our minds until they're blades — because the only way to survive this place is to cut first."
The room felt colder.
The boy offered no introduction but just a polite smile. "Right, no need to sound like a walking thesis just to make us feel stupid, Clarence," Clara shot back, her voice light, but her eyes rolling with enough force to tilt the earth off its axis.
Clarence chuckled — a low, deliberate sound that somehow felt like it belonged to someone who knew exactly how and when you would die. "Just doing my civic duty. Our new little time anomaly deserves the full orientation package, doesn't she?" His gaze flickered to me, sharp but amused.
I rested my chin in my palm, already exhausted. "If we're supposed to be trained into functional, sane people, why's that guy..." —my finger lazily pointed at the slumped figure drooling onto his desk, the one who rolled the pen towards me— "acting like he's escaped from a psychological horror film?"
Clara snorted. "Oh, him? That's Ezra. He's new, like you. Except he skipped the 'gradual breakdown' part and just speed ran straight into 'hopelessly unhinged.'"
Clarence leaned against the desk, his expression darkening into something more serious — the kind of look you'd wear at a eulogy. "He's a walking cautionary tale. His sanity wasn't just fractured — it was pried apart, piece by piece, until the light itself showed him everything he couldn't bear to see."
He paused, his fingers tracing patterns on the desk absentmindedly. "You see, for some of us, the power doesn't break us. It shows us how broken we already were. And once the mind is exposed to too much truth, it shatters like glass."
I didn't respond. There wasn't much to say when someone described a fate you could practically feel breathing down your neck.
Clara, mercifully, broke the silence. "Anyway!" she clapped her hands together, trying to inject some life back into the room. "Moral of the story — don't touch random objects, don't stare too long at the void, and for god's sake, never trust the vending machine on the third floor."
"Why the vending machine?" I blinked, confused by the sudden shift.
Clarence just smiled. "It eats more than your money."
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Several days have passed, and I suppose I've begun to adapt to the peculiar rhythm of this place. The atmosphere here is unlike the main building, which was constantly alive with noise and bustling students. In stark contrast, this department feels almost isolated, its silence only interrupted by the occasional conversation or the faint hum of distant footsteps.
Throughout these days, I've found myself gravitating toward Clara and Clarence. They seem to have taken it upon themselves to ensure I don't entirely lose my mind in this strange environment. When they're occupied, however, Ezra tends to appear — often without warning. His presence alone is unnerving, considering our first encounter involved him casually rolling a cursed pen in my direction. A pen, mind you, capable of trapping me within a labyrinth of riddles until I somehow managed to solve my way out. To put it lightly, Ezra's existence leaves me with an enduring sense of wariness.
At the moment, our class is gathered in the gymnasium. Today's exercise focuses on building connections — not through casual conversation, but through direct access to each other's memories. The process is simple in theory: remove any object that dampens our abilities, select a partner, and lock eyes until the walls around their past begin to collapse, allowing us a glimpse into their personal history. It is, apparently, a foundational technique for understanding time travel. For some reason, the moment I removed my mask, nothing happened. No sudden flood of memories, no overwhelming rush of visions — just the ordinary sight of the gymnasium and my classmates. It was almost unsettling how quiet my mind remained, like a static screen where chaos should have been.
Perhaps it's this building itself — designed to keep us on edge, to suppress what we rely on most. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of subtle tricks they embedded into these walls. A spell? A mechanism? Or maybe something much simpler, like the weight of constant observation. Whatever it was, the absence of noise in my head felt louder than any commotion ever could.
"I'll be assigning partners," our proctor announced, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. A collective groan rippled through the room, though none of us were particularly surprised. Of course, we couldn't choose for ourselves — not here.
"Hagarin and Ezra."
Ah, yes. The radiant beacon of my existence. How fortunate I am.
From behind me, I heard the unmistakable twin reactions of Clara and Clarence — a synchronized oh that carried both sympathy and amusement. I turned to them, silently pleading for some form of rescue, but all they offered in return were sheepish smiles and helpless shrugs.
Before I could plot my escape, a hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around with unnecessary enthusiasm. "Aren't you the luckiest? Partnered with me!" Ezra's grin stretched ear to ear, radiating the kind of chaotic energy that could set off a fire alarm just by existing.
"More like a curse," I replied, shaking my head. "You cling like a wasp that refuses to die."
"And you," he said, utterly unfazed, "are the honey — all sweet and easy to mess with."
"Dear god..." I muttered with a cringed reaction etched on my face, turning to walk away, only for him to seize my wrist and pull me back into his orbit, cackling like a villain in a low-budget play.
He's going to be the death of me someday — that much I'm certain of.
The proctor continued announcing the other pairs, though his voice felt distant, like a soft hum beneath the weight of my own thoughts. Soon enough, it was time to begin.
We were instructed to sit across from our assigned partners, knees barely apart, eyes locked. No masks, no objects to soften the edges of our abilities. Just direct eye contact, until the world around us dissolved into memory.
The rules were clear, spoken with the sternness of someone who had undoubtedly witnessed the consequences of disobedience: Do not touch anything. Do not move anything. Do not allow yourself to be seen. Do not speak to anyone. Observe, nothing more. A quiet ghost in the river of time.
I met his gaze, and for a brief moment, I forgot how to breathe.
His eyes — mismatched and striking — were a story in themselves. One a rich amber, warm like sunlight spilling through ancient windows; the other a deep, stormy blue, like the sky moments before thunder shatters the silence. They pulled me in, gently at first, then all at once, like falling into a trance where the edges between past and present began to blur.
Somehow, without meaning to, I found myself wondering — if eyes could hold someone's entire history, what kind of story would his tell me?
A blur crawled into my mind, cold and relentless — like fingers dragging me under the surface of a frozen lake.
The flood of memories didn't arrive gently, nor did it feel like a tender unveiling of his past. It was violence wrapped in silence, the kind of silence that pulses against your ears when screams are too hoarse to escape. Whispers slithered through the cracks in my consciousness, fragmented mutterings, desperate pleas, the sound of skin hitting skin, the begging — oh god, the begging to live.
And that is the story of Ezra.
A boy born into the middle ground — not poor enough to be pitied, not wealthy enough to be spared. His life was average in the cruelest sense, hovering just above ruin, surrounded by people too broken to love him properly. Those smiles and bursts of manic energy were a carefully crafted mask, because the truth was too ugly to show.
Deliberately ignored by the very hands meant to protect him, Ezra learned survival the hard way. His mother — the woman meant to fill his stomach and soothe his fears — turned to drugs instead, letting substances take the place of responsibility. The house became a prison, the walls soaked with the stench of neglect. And when she wasn't a ghost, she was a monster.
She made sure his body bore the weight of her frustrations. Bruises blooming like rotting flowers, bones learning to break before they could fully grow. There were nights he couldn't walk, mornings he woke up wondering if his legs would ever carry him again.
And yet, here he sits — bright-eyed, loud-mouthed, and relentlessly alive.
But now I know the truth.
Every smile is a desperate defiance. Every laugh is a scream buried under his tongue. Every careless act of chaos is a child daring the world to break him again.
And in this flood of someone else's pain, I realized: some people aren't born survivors — they're made into them.
I wanted to help him.
It wasn't a fleeting thought, nor some heroic impulse — it was instinct, primal and unforgiving. My bones screamed at me to reach out, to shatter the rules, to tear through the veil that separated my reality from his.
But I couldn't.
Because the rules are absolute.
Do not touch. Remain unseen. Just watch.
So I watched. I watched as he collapsed onto the cold, filthy ground, limbs trembling from the weight of bruises layered over bones too fragile for this kind of life. His breathing was shallow, the kind of breath that doesn't expect to last.
And when I thought that was the end — that this was where his story would end in a puddle of blood and neglect — she came.
An old woman with shaking hands and kindness carved into every line on her face. She scooped him up like he was something fragile and precious, like broken things were meant to be cared for, not discarded.
She gave him warmth, food, and clothes that didn't hang off him like skin he was waiting to shed. She gave him a home, not just a house. And for the first time, he tasted love. Real love — the kind without conditions, without fists hiding behind smiles.
"What's a wife?" young Ezra asked one day, small fingers tugging at her sleeve as they sat by a hearth that crackled softly — the only sound that didn't hurt his ears.
The old woman smiled, gentle and sad. "A wife is someone you'll love — someone you'll never turn your back on. She's like a seed you plant, one that grows into something beautiful if you care for it properly. Promise me, Ezra. When you find someone, treat her right. Be the kind of man your father never was."
And for a while, it seemed like fate would be kinder to him.
But trauma doesn't disappear — it festers. It finds ways to seep into every crack, even when you think you've sealed them shut.
So Ezra grew up with kindness in his heart, but madness wrapped around his mind like a second skin.
He became a man who laughed too loudly and too often, because silence was where the ghosts lived. He turned himself into a living spectacle — an insane clown wearing tragedy like face paint. But beneath the chaos, beneath the theatrics, he was still that little boy asking what love was, praying someone would show him how not to break it.
Ezra is a good man.
Just one who was built from broken things. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 3,743 words
Next Chapter
To my heaven or your underworld?
Master List
(This was something I’ve had in the drafts and decided to post it!!) cute fem child reader!
Angst but fluffy and comforting
A cool breeze settled in the air on the crisp afternoon of July. Deep in the Zion Canyons, a beautiful waterfall stood, untouched by man. “Hurry up Gabriella!” A little boy called his friend. One who he had recently met, successfully dragging her out of the run down home. He stood tall on a rock, peering down at the little girl who was behind him. His freckled face held a flushed look due to the summer sun and his green eyes never wavered from her.
“I’M COMING!” She had yelled back at him, struggling to climb the rock with her hair constantly falling in her way. She dug her feet into the side of the smooth stone and was able to hoist herself up, successfully resting her upper body where he stood.
“I told you wearing your hair down was a bad idea” He wore a smirk, one that gloated about the fact that he knew better than her for once.
“Shut up, You threatened to leave me” She complained, rolling herself completely onto the platform-like area.
“Here, upsy daisy,” He took a gentle hold of her arms pulling her to stand next to him. He chuckled, watching her as she whipped the sweat from her forehead and hunched to catch her breath. “Are you that tired?” He rolled his eyes before turning his gaze to the beautiful scenery that was laid before them. Looking out onto the other side of the rock, a massive drop-off stood. With flowing water being produced by the massive waterfall that was displayed right in front of them.
“I think you’re forgetting t-that I have'' she huffed “I’m not meant WOAH” She gasped, cutting herself off, turning her full attention to the view as well. The waterfall stood tall, the rushing water silencing all outside noise. The sun reflected off it creating a hue of colors and illuminating the lush green surrounding it.
“I told you it was nice” He took a glance around, looking for the spot to climb down towards the water, he made his way to a rope that had been wedged between two smaller rocks. He had been here before, scotting for a place to take her. He decided that for Gabby's well-being, he’d make an easier way to get down before bringing her here. “I found it a while ago and knew you’d love it. '' He took a sturdy hold on the rope, giving it a harsh tug to ensure its stability. Once he was sure it was safe enough, he began to slowly make his way down.
“It’s so beautiful, HEY WAIT!” Gabriella rushed towards the rope, making sure to stay a safe distance from the edge, “H-Hey, where do you think you’re going?” She gasped as he continued down the side.
“Uh duh, I’m going for a swim” He moved his hands, one after the other, keeping his feet firmly planted on the steep wall and his eyes refused to waver from the gray stone directly in front of him. “Follow if you want! But if you’re too scared, go home” He made quick work climbing down, as if he’d done it a hundred times before. He stretched his foot searching for the comfort of solid ground. He was completely aware that she would follow, refusing to admit she was a chicken.
“I’M NO COWARD!” She called, hyping herself up for the daring task, “Come on Gabby, you got this” She whispered encouraging words as she took hold of the rope. Setting her body over the edge, refusing to look at the ground. Taking one hand and one step at a time, she slowly made her way down.
“I’LL CATCH YOU IF YOU FALL '' 20 feet below his voice sent a warm, almost calming sensation over her as she slowly continued to descend. “THAT'S IT” He continued to spew cheers, arms at the ready for if anything went wrong. “I promise I’ll get you there safely,” He said lowly, a promise not to her but to himself.
“AHH” Gabriell let out a shrill, her foot had slipped causing panic to course through her. Tightening her grip and squeezing her eyes closed, she dangled, softly swaying back and forth. She made multiple attempts to try and regain footing on the rock, but each time failed. Giving up on trying to fix her position she just swayed for a few seconds, her arms quickly growing tired.
“GABBY '' Panicked, he tried to follow her movements, He watched as her grip slowly began to loosen. He racked his brain for any ideas, he knew he had to act fast. “GABBY YOU GOTTA LISTEN” he kept glancing between her and the ground. With at least a 15-foot drop between her and the solid ground he knew very well that if she fell, they wouldn’t be able to finish the adventure.
“HELP, PLEASE” Something wet splashed onto his face, He looked back up at the girl hanging there, and he watched as tears rolled down her puffy cheeks.
“GABBY YOU GOTTA LOOK AT ME” He tried to coax her out of the panicked state, “GABBY PLEASE” He watched as she only tightened her eyes and wrapped her legs around the rope.
“N-no, it hurts' ' She could feel her hands start to bleed from her tight hold on the ragged rope. “I don’t wanna die” Her thoughts ran rampant praying to god, she began to receive every prayer she could remember from her Church classes, “Our Father who in heaven”
“GABRIELLA LISTEN TO ME” Her eyes shot open at the desperate tone of his voice, and she looked down, instantly regretting her decision. She quickly closed her eyes again and began to shake her head from side to side. “LISTEN TO ME PLEASE” His eyes traveled to the water next to him, about 4 feet to the left from where he stood, “GABRIELLA LOOK AT THE WATER,” he had hoped a small distraction would calm her before he offered his outlandish solution. Slowly she took a glance at the glistening water, once again captivated by its beauty.
“WHAT ABOUT IT” She could feel herself calm slightly, unknown as to why, whether it was her accepting that her arms would eventually give out, or that she trusted him to save her. She was grateful to have some sense of her surroundings,
“SWING TOWARDS IT”
“WHAT” She now looked at him, eyes wide and mouth gaping. She was shocked, out of all ideas she never thought his solution would be to just give up. “NUH NO WAY”
“I’VE THOUGHT IT OVER,” He stared right at her, a false smile on his face, “WITH ENOUGH MOMENTUM YOU CAN MAKE IT INTO THE DEEPER PART” She glanced between him and the water, from her perspective it looked like it was miles away, but she knew it was her best chance. She could feel her arms weakening and her blood only made her hands hurt more. She couldn’t shake the fear completely. What if she didn’t go far enough? What if the rope snapped? What if she drowned?
“GABRIELLA TRUST ME!” She looked back to where he was standing but he was gone, She looked desperately for his whereabouts. Cursing herself for losing sight of him, almost going back into a panic. Finally, she watched as he made his way into the water, standing shoulders deep and waving, “I PROMISE I’LL BE HERE” He stood showing her that the depth of the water was deep enough for her to jump into. Her eyes watered once again, watching she had an epiphany. It was the best shot she had, realizing this, she released her locked legs from the rope and hesitantly began a swinging motion. Acting as if she was at the local playground, kicking her feet back and forth to get momentum to go higher. She had done this hundreds of times, jumping off the swing at its peak to feel the thrill, but never had it been from this high. She continued the motion till she felt it was at a safe speed and height,
“I TRUST YOU” She screamed, letting go of the rope as her momentum headed forward. She plummeted towards the water, bringing her legs up into her chest. She shut her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the impact. The ice-cold water hit her feet first, resulting in her form slightly wavering, as the rest of her body became submerged, she completely let go. Eyes still shut tight but surrounded by the ice water, she floated for a second before a hand grabbed her t-shirt collar and another grabbed her shoulder. Jerking her up out of the water, she was met with worried green eyes and a tear-stained freckled face.
“Gabby, a-are you okay?” He readjusted his grip to help keep the girl afloat in the water, “Gabby?” He moved her wet hair from her face trying to get a good look at her. He stared at her for a moment before her lips curled into a massive grin.
“THAT WAS EXHILARATING” She screamed, throwing her arms around him, “I DID IT CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?” she was stuck between sobbing and laughing, He let out a sigh of relief, letting out a soft chuckle at her antics.
“That you did, handled it way better than I did” He held her tightly gently patting her back to comfort his racing heart. “You okay? Nothing hurt?” He pulled away to look her over, “Your hands” he huffed looking at the slightly tinted red water surrounding them. He brought them close to examine them, they held small cuts and were bruised but overall looked okay.
“Ah it’s nothing, the water is making them feel better though” She dismissed his worry, removing herself from his hold, and stood barely reaching out the water. “Let's head to shore, that way I can catch my breath properly,” She smiled before wading herself through the water.
“Wait! Are you sure you’re okay?” He followed close behind her, “You didn’t hit anything when you landed? Not the bottom right?” He tried to walk a little faster to catch her. “A-and there was no other kind of resistance right?”
“What? No, I’m all good” She dismissed his questions, continuing her trek. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing it’s just,” He stared at the back of her hair, weighing his options. He had already opened his mouth, might as well go through with it. “I’ll show you when we get to land”
“Okay, it’s not something life-threatening again right?” Gabby was now in waist-deep water, continuing to exit the water.
“No, I promise nothing will happen like that again” She only hummed at his response.
“We’ll see” With the water only ankle deep, she spun around and plopped herself into the water. Sitting on the rocky bottom, softly swaying feet in the water. “I can’t get over how clear the water is” She smiled, “Or the fact that I almost died” She took a deep breath,
“It is very nice huh?” He paused, “Well except for you almost dying!” He quickly added before squatting down next to her, messing with the rocks. Every now and then he picked up a rock to examine it. Gabby sat quietly examining as the water flowed, until “This one is good!” He cheered, standing up again. She jumped slightly, quickly turning her head to see what he had.
“It’s a rock?” Gabby only tilted her head softly, a confused look on her face.
“It’s a perfect skipping stone” He stated, glancing over at her before angling himself towards the waterfall, closing one eye, and sticking out a tongue to aim. He swung his arm back once before bringing it forward slowly, he repeated this action a couple more times before finally letting the rock go. Gabby's eye sparkled with amazement, watching as the stone went skipping towards the falls. Her smile dropped when suddenly the stone stopped,
“Huh, what happened?” With double the force it had been thrown with, the stone came skipping back towards the boy. With ease he caught the stone, smiling brightly and showing it off.
“Ain’t it cool? No matter how hard I throw it, it always comes back” He cackled,
“LET ME TRY!” Gabby stood fast and practically jumped on him to grab the rock.
“Okay, okay, here!” He set the smooth rock in her hand, and demonstrated what she needed to do, “So angle like this,” He shifted her slightly, “And now swing your arm to get the momentum” He watched as she followed his directions, “and on the way forward, LET GO!” As soon as he gave the command she let the stonefly, watching as it skipped across the water perfectly, before suddenly stopping. However, it sat for a moment, longer than they had anticipated before it came shooting back, “AHH”
“AHH” They both dived away from the stone that came rocketing back at them. Into the water they both splashed, creating a disturbance within the peace. Quickly sitting up to see what had happened he glanced over at her, “Ooh my gosh, what was that?” Gabby sat up, looking in the direction of where the stone had gone, there lodged into a tree was the smooth rock.
“Amazing” Shifting next to her, his eyes just stared at the tree. His face contorted into a brilliant smile, and his eyes glowed with a fire.
“Hehe, that was awesome!” She splashed water at him, drawing him out of his daze. He chuckled and returned her action.
They continued this banter for hours, giggling and playing with the water. The time flew by, quickly leading the sun to slowly set and the moon to rise. “This was the best day ever, I wish it could last forever!” Gabby giggled out of breath from running around.
“Yeah, me too” He chuckled looking over at her, his smile faltering slightly, taking a glance to the waterfall. It still sparkled even without the sun present.“Hey Gabby, what if it could last forever?” He was nervous about her reaction, “We could just stay here” His suggestion took her by surprise, it caused her smile to drop, and she stared at him for a moment. The once joyous environment turned cold.
“But what about our families?” She questioned, breaking the silence “I mean we can’t just disappear like that!” She voiced her concerns, beginning to pace around the water. “Where would we sleep? What if it rains? Or someone comes looking for us?” She finally stopped mid-pace, “What if they come looking and take me back?”
“That's why we should stay!” He was quick to argue “That's way you never go back! Plus we can live behind the waterfall!” He examined his excitement by pointing at the waterfall, “We’re safe here, it's our haven! Come On let's do it!”He prayed she would agree, not wanting to force her into anything.
“I a-are you sure?” Gabby just stared at him, switching between looking at him and the waterfall behind. The determination he held told her everything she needed to know. “Okay, yeah! Let's do it!” She matched his determined look, before breaking out into a bright smile. “Let’s live under the waterfall!” A soft smile returned to his face.
“I’m glad you’re going willingly,” He whispered under his breath. “Alright, Gabby it’s just you and me!” He held out his hand in a fist waiting for her.
“Oh Yeah!” She matched his fist with her own,
“Our own Netherworld” He smiled brightly at her, She returned the bright smile,
“Yeah, Our own Heaven!” She chuckled, “Lead the way Hades!”
NEW #crashbandicoot MERCH!!✨🤩 GO FOR IT!! . . Available on my redbubble store 😉✨ . . #games #gamer #videogames #retro #neon #digitaldrawing #digitalillustration #digitalart #adventure https://www.instagram.com/p/CVevJB4g268/?utm_medium=tumblr
Under the iceberg, Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, Argentina
Spectacular infinity pool view at Likuliku Lagoon Resort, Fiji
The Holy Quadrilogy of cool, chill and rad modern cartoon girls
It was raining and sunny the other day! :D
Eclipse!! :D
now that I’m done with my musical, I will be going on more adventures and posting more photos of them! Stay ominous!
Half Human (Bumblebee X OC) (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/UxTCBDvDqZ **The cover pic belong to me, my drawing and I am not letting no one use it. The characters don't belong to me, they belong to their rightful owner, Michael Bay. The characters that DO belong to me are the OCs, don't steal.** **WARNING: Strong Languages and Strong Violences!** Highest Rankings #1 in bumblebee-transformer #1 in fxm #4 in half hu…
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