build a bonfire

Consider

L taking Yotsuba!Light to wammys on bonfire night

-light watching in terror as a bunch of teenagers build a bonfire as big as the building

-someone tries to set him on fire several times

-literally all these kids are wearing fucking gas masks n shit and you can see this fucking fire for mILES

-someone smuggled in fucking vodka and everyone knows who it was but they won’t break the bonfire code of silence

-L gets SHITFACED because “bonfire night only comes once a year, light-kun.”

-light watches in horror as several wasted children dump CANS OF GASOLINE on this huge fire and CHEER when someone nearly lights themselves on fire

- “L Beyond is gone.”

- “EVERYONE SCATTER BEYOND IS LOOSE”

- the orphanage almost burned down that night

- light is forever traumatized by bonfire night at wammys and can never unsee the horror

1. Plunge deep into the cold quarry water. Let the soft mud squish between your toes and get enveloped in the dark. By the time you get back safely to the surface, it will feel like sweet rebirth.
 
2. Write a letter to your worries. Bring them to the beach and build a bonfire out of driftwood. Use you fears as kindling and call it a lesson in letting go.
 
3. Follow a trail up a mountain and get lost under the green trees. Fall in love with every living thing you pass.
 
4. You might not meet yourself on the climb back down, or even the day after. But you will. I know it’s coming and I promise, you’re worth all the waiting.
—  Schuyler Peck, A Manual: Finding Yourself
When you leave a INFP unsupervised

(INFJ and ISTP talking)
(INFP not paying attention to anything

ISTP: we should do something fun tonight

INFJ: YES we should!

ISTP: didn’t you buy marshmallows and stuff?

INFJ: oh yeah we can build a bonfire and roast s'mores!

(INFP snaps to)

INFP: umm….

(ISTP and INFJ continue discussing the plan)

INFP: tiny problem with that….

INFJ:….what?

INFP: we only have one chocolate bar left…

INFJ: WHAT? WE HAD A WHOLE PACK!?!?

ISTP: what happened to the rest?

(INFP fiddles nervously)

INFP: I might have…accidentally…ate them…

ISTP: ALL of them?

INFJ: ACCIDENTALLY?!?!?!?!

INFP: I WAS WATCHING FOOD NETWORK AND I GOT HUNGRY AND I WAS HOME ALONE OK?!?!?

INFJ: wait… Was it you that broke the tv too?

INFP:…well

ISTP: INFP!

INFP: I wanted to know what the other buttons on the tv do…the ones I’ve never pressed…

INFJ and ISTP: sigh…

INFP: I can fix it!

“Of all the children in the whole work who must have wished that they could have had Gregory Peck as a father, he was ours, and that was our blessing. He really was a lot like Atticus Finch. On the last page of his shooting script of To Kill a Mockingbird he had scrolled those four words at the bottom, “fairness”, “courage”, “stubbornness”, “love”. They remind me so much of him as a father. He was not lenient, but he was always fair. He showed up for everything we did, no matter what the demands of his career. When he came home from the set, he would be in our rooms doing homework with us and on his days off he would load us all into the station wagon with the dogs and kentucky fried chicken and drive us to Zuma Beach and romp in the waves with us all day and throw the football and build a bonfire in the evening and then carry us back into the car. He was always that present.” - Cecilia Peck

R.I.P Gregory Peck, April 5th 1916 - June 12th 2003

Gregory Peck and his daughter, Cecilia, c. late 1960s/early 1970s.

“Of all the children in the whole world who must have wished they could have Gregory Peck as a father, he was ours. and that was our blessing. He really was a lot like Atticus Finch.”

“As a father, he was not lenient but he was always fair. He showed up for everything we did no matter what the demands of his career. When he came home from the set he would be in our rooms doing homework with us. On his days off, he’d load us all into the station wagon with the dogs and Kentucky fried chicken and drive us to Zuma Beach and romp in the waves with us all day and throw the football and build a bonfire in the evening and then carry us back into the car. He was always that present.” - Cecilia Peck