and what when instead of writing for streetracer!caleb i write streetracer!sylus. raf would make the most sense given his recent card, but im not a raf girlie and i CANNOT do him justice💔xav doesnt fit the concept imo and zayne doesn't either. if anything, zaynes the paramedic that they pay off to stay at the races just incase someone gets injured. that could lowkeyy be fun🤭like youre a racer who just keeps getting 'hurt' and needing to visit the paramedic🫦
i think sylus does fit the concept bc. have you SEEN him drive?? now don't ask me who would win a race in caleb vs sylus.....
WAIT i was rambling in the tags, but imma add it here, if you have any ideas or thoughts or literallly anything about streetracer!caleb send me an ask!!! bc that might actually get me inspired to write for him again(i miss himm)!! (obvs im not promising that i'll write the ideas(if any get sent lolz)BUT it could help get creative juices goin)
She wants to close the book and put it back, knowing these aren't meant for her to see. But the more she reads, the more her heart melts and her pulse speeds up. She also feels a twinge of jealousy, and confusion. Zoey had almost kissed her, but she’s in love with Mira? It doesn’t make any sense.
The kettle makes a ding sound, signaling the water is ready, and Rumi snaps the notebook shut, still blushing, and tosses it back onto the counter. She trips over Derpy in her haste, and is still in the process of untangling herself from the big galoot’s paws when she hears Zoey greet Sussie.
Rumi groans, “Derpy, move!”
Zoey makes a cooing sound, “oh there’s my big boy!”
Derpy chirps and bounds into the living room, skidding to a stop in front of Zoey and flopping over for belly rubs.
“Ohhh, who’s the biggest tiger in the whole world? You are, yes you are!” Zoey’s flopped to her knees and is giving the giant tiger all the belly rubs.
Rumi jumps to her feet and grabs the kettle, pouring the water over the coffee ground. “Uh hey Zo! Coffee’s getting started.”
Zoey stands up and pats Derpy on the head, smiling at Rumi. She starts to say something else when her eyes dart to the kitchen counter, and she sees the notebook. Her faces turns scarlet and she dives for it.
Rumi watches as she turns a color of red she didn’t think was humanly possible. “Oh, I figured that was one of yours.”
Ultimate question ditch..out of all the fan ships..canon ships(?) canon x canon with you..who do YOU choose..
“Mhmm..that is the ultimate question. Well, if mod is being honest they’d 100% pick Tre X ditch. But ME, personally? I like ditch X Vinnie. The classic duo…”
I finished that recent chapter with my idiot friend watching and reading it as I wrote, when I was explaining the story to him he said this and it had no right to make us laugh for as long as it did.
Also don’t have someone verbalize out loud what you are writing, as you are writing it. It creates the worst brain clog where you just can’t think of words. Extremely dangerous.
Alone in the middle of the wilds, but also smack dap in the middle of deathclaw territory. She was sitting on the side of the overgrown road, carefully taking off her shoes and shaking them to get dirt and pebbles out, having just fallen. The little girl was concentrating hard on her taste in the way she seemed oblivious to the watcher, and that she was sitting beside a massive footprint.
This child had a small bow and quiver of arrows on her back. One arrow was broken from her fall, but the kid had a dead rabbit beside her. She was trying to hunt small game in Deathclaw territory?!
The girl finished tying her the straps on the hide shoes. Fiddled with the broken arrow, looking disappointed as she sat off the side of the normally abandoned road. Then patted the limp rabbit, admiring the soft fur. Sound had her looking up, following a bird run by and to her far left. Turning to watch because it was a pretty bird-!
The girl froze, belatedly realizing there was a stranger standing on the old roadway. "...hi?"
Happy (late im sorry) birthday @aka-indulgence !!! I wrote you a special thing... with one of your special boyos whomst you managed to convert me into loving. I hope you had a fun day!!
Tw; caves, broken bones
You’d stopped screaming a while ago.
There were a lot of reasons- for one, the air in the cave was damp, thick, choking... screaming required you to take a deep inhale of the stale smog and your lungs were already starting to reject it. It was borderline unbearable and you were pretty certain that if you survived this, you’d be choking and coughing for a week at least.
... But that wasn’t the biggest reason. That wasn’t the most important reason you were keeping your mouth shut tight, as you laid on your back in complete darkness, eyes darting around as fast as they could and leg numb with agony.
By this point, screaming was a critical danger that would get you killed.
... The cave just behind the cliff was rumoured to be impossibly deep, to have once contained some kind of legendary terrifying monster that reacted violently to intruders and killed those who didn’t heed its immediate warnings to leave. Of course, there were no modern sightings of this mythical beast, and it definitely sounded less like fact and more like some urban legend designed to keep people away from a dangerous area. No one had ever mapped it... no one wanted to, even the most intrepid of local explorers. The stories (and a healthy serving of common sense) seemed to have prevailed long enough for that particular entrance to just be left alone.
...
So of course, your study group decided it’d be such a good place to spend a Friday night, armed with nothing but half-charged torches, rucksacks full of drinks, and borrowed walking shoes.
You could feel tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, gravity dragging them down the sides of your face as you stared upward into the total blackness. It was stupid to come down here, horror movie levels of stupid- but you just couldn’t say no to them. The study group was the closest thing you had to friends, and you let them lure you into coming along, you’d allowed yourself to be led by your terror of being left out.
... You had no idea how long you’d been lying on your back in total darkness with your immovable leg throbbing with pain, but it was getting clearer and clearer no one was coming back for you.
... So I guess you’ve been left out after all- left out in a cave to die.
...
A noise. You turned your head, quickly- a familiar blood red colour standing out against the black, closer than last time. Panic jolted through you once again and you grappled with your flashlight, turning it on and pointing it directly at the red; a harsh white circle of light appeared and illuminated a section of the cave. You saw bone and a wide maw of terrifying teeth for a split second before it retreated quickly from the glow in a flurry of movement, disappearing back into the nothingness, an aggravated snarl rippling through the cavern.
...
Your friends, if you could even call them that, seemed to have followed the philosophy of ‘don’t outrun the bear, just outrun the slowest person’. When the monster had attacked your group in the dark, everyone panicked and ran for the exit... and when you stumbled, falling down a steep shaft into what was most likely going to end up being your grave, you became the slowest person.
And the ‘bear’ focused on you.
... It was hanging around in the darkness surrounding you. You could hear it, scuttling, waiting, the terrifying sound bouncing off the walls and coming from every direction at once, you hated how your panic and the enclosed space worked perfectly together to fuck with your hearing. Your only hope was the flashlight you clutched in both quivering hands.
...
You turned to the left, and caught sight of the red again. An engorged, blood coloured orb, slowly moving closer to you like a stalking wolf- it paused when you raised the flashlight, ready to recoil, and you jammed your clammy thumb onto the on button.
...
Nothing.
...
“... N-no.” You said, tiny, voice cracking, shaking the device and mashing the useless button over and over. Suddenly, just like that, the darkness around you had swallowed you completely whole. “No, no, no...”
...
The monster made the same realisation you had. The flashlight was out of battery. The bloody red eye contracted a fraction... and then, upon realising your only line of defence was gone, advanced toward you.
...
You screamed as loud as you possibly could. You screamed with your whole chest, so hard it ricocheted across the walls and rang in your ears, you kicked your good leg against the ground in a desperate attempt to push yourself away but your heel just slipped on the floor. The sound didn’t deter it- and the eye got bigger and bigger, coming closer by the second, the true scale of the thing hunting you was dawning alongside the panic.
It’s gonna eat me.
The eye was the size of your fist. You could smell something, something warm, its breath, you were seized with unparalleled fear and you blindly swung the useless torch like a weapon. To your shock, it connected- landing squarely on what must’ve been a cheekbone. But it did about as much damage as a pillow would to a rhino and the flashlight shattered into pieces upon impact, with the monster not even so much as flinching.
It was definitely breath, you could feel it in your hair. It smelled like blood. Giant hands moved around your torso, under your arms, and picked you clean up off the ground- and the oh-so-familiar heavy ‘scuttling’ sound of him moving filled your ears.
S-someone help me!
You punched at his ribs, still ‘screaming' (it was hardly screaming anymore because it was punctured by cracks and thin breaths), the world was beginning to drown out. The sounds and smells and pain were all so overwhelming, the dark and red of his eye were already eating you before he’d even opened his mouth, all you could think about was how no matter how much you didn’t want to you were going to die.
...
Light. Light that wasn’t his eye. It was enough to distract from your shouting, pathetic attempt at making noise catching in your throat. Little glowing rocks- crystals, maybe, they dotted the floor and walls, creating a faint white that was just enough to see by but still filled the world around you with wriggling shadows.
... It was enough to, for the first time, properly see the creature that was taking you.
He was huge; a skeletal upper half, barrel-chested, shoulders twice the width of your own and a heavy sternum with ribs like prison bars. The size of his jaw and thickness of his teeth told you he wasn’t the kind of predator that wasted any time with theatrics; there was no serration, probably no venom, he wasn’t going to be using valuable time to suffocate victims. With a mouth like that he would get right to the point- crushing straight through bone like eggshell.
He was staring ahead. Concentrated.
... Your eyes darted past his skeletal body to the main thing you'd been afraid of seeing; his lower body was a centipede. Giant scar-mottled gleaming brown carapace, trailing off into the dark, massive hooked 'feet' working in perfect undulating tandem to move him effortlessly across the uneven cave floor. You had absolutely no idea how long he was, you couldn't even hazard a guess. No wonder you'd heard his scuttling all around you in the darkness, it wasn't your mind playing tricks on you, he'd literally been all around you- you never stood a chance, did you?
You'd wedged your arms between yourself and his massive ribcage, shaking hands pushing as hard as you could. Despite how obviously little it was counteracting his hold, it was your last way of feeling like you were fighting. Your face and neck ached, your chin was wobbling, your head pounded.. you were a melting ice statue ready to shatter at the slightest push.
You were running out of fight.
... He carried you up, over a lip, into a small alcove. A recessed section of rock, a cave within a cave- a slightly more concentrated cluster of those glowing stones revealed the interior was lined with furs, rags, chunks of sleeping bags, old and well-loved blankets. Some kind of nest.
I’m... am I hyperventilating? you thought, feeling disconnected and dizzy, mind retreating further and further away from your body as a final defence mechanism. Everything’s spinning.
...
Softness. At first, you thought you’d just gone completely numb... but when you concentrated a little more, you were surprised to find you were staring up at the glow-dotted stone ceiling.
...
... He’d... put you down. On his nest of blankets? He was hovering over you, breath still brushing your cheeks and forehead... that terrible eye shifted its gaze down your body, you felt like a dinner being surveyed.
... You couldn’t even bring yourself to try and wriggle away. What chance did you stand? Further and further into numbness... am I going into shock?
...
He reached toward your broken leg. You didn't even want to look at it; it hurt so badly. You squeezed your eyes shut, suppressing a sob.
...
Warmth.
A pleasant kind- like you'd just laid the broken limb beside a fire. Tingling faintly... magic? Healing magic? You couldn’t look, you didn’t have the stomach to see just how mangled the leg was, that’d just make it hurt even worse. But it was...
... Nice.
The warmth was like an eraser. It floated over the leg, fuzzy and comforting, and wherever it floated the pain just... ebbed away.
...
You opened your eyes again. When he stopped, there was no more pain in your leg. None at all. And he was just... sitting there. Staring at you.
...
“Y-you...” You croaked. The hole in the centre of his eyelight shrank a fraction. The magic felt like it was doing something to you; you could feel your shoulders slowly unwinding, chest relaxing enough for you to take breaths that actually filled your lungs, throbbing head settling down. “... You healed me?”
... Was clubbing him with a flashlight the wrong idea?
...
... He made a sound. Several sounds, actually... soft, throated, deep and staggered... chuffing, like a tiger. Such a gentle noise, for such a giant monster...
...
He seemed to make a decision. With one last little chuff and a nod to himself, his socket lidded... and he laid down next to you. One of his thick-as-your-head arms gently looped over your middle; you were vaguely aware of his centipede body gathering itself into the little alcove, some of it draping lazily over your lower legs.
... Keyword ‘vaguely’ aware. You were so tired, so tired and sick of being in pain, that you barely even wiggled in response to his strange cuddle-like gesture. He was... actually pretty warm... and he smelled like amber and campfires.
...
You were asleep before you could remember you needed to be scared of him touching you- that claws carding lovingly through your hair wasn’t supposed to feel nice.
" A slight breeze was blowing his hair out of his face, and it felt good."
- "Best Day Ever” by Oneshoeshort
This is my second submission to @samwinchesterzine 2019 ed. It is a companion piece the author @oneshoeshort ‘s submission “Best Day Ever” where Sam enjoys a very nice day. I encourage y’all to read this awesome story and leave your love and comments on it.
