cool cabin


Good wood - This cool little cabin sits on a hillside on Canada’s Valdes Island, a small piece of land with just 9 square miles located in the British Columbia Gulf Islands. Built by Burnkit founder Josh Dunford, it was designed to be self sustainable using solar power and rainwater collection systems, it also has modern comfort features to withstand the harsh weather conditions. So if you really want to get away then this should be on your list.

Shout out to Pollux, son of Dionysus
  • He lost his twin brother, Castor, in the Battle of the Labyrinth.
  • After he loses his brother, he’s the only one left in his cabin.
  • He calmed down the other demigods when they were worried about a possible spy.
  • Even after breaking his right arm in the Last Olympian he was willing to fight with his left which basically would’ve been suicide.

I can still fight with the other hand.

we love you Pollux! <3

anonymous asked:

I read one of your tags talking about even and isaks cabin trip. Would you care to expand? I can't get enough of your words <3

  • it was Even’s idea, casually brought up over dinner one Thursday. if Isak had any plans three weekends from now, if he’d maybe like to go to the cabin of a friend of a friend of a friend, not too far from Oslo, just the two of them. and Isak is skeptical at first, just a little bit, still not completely over all his past insecurities, his past beliefs, tells Even in between bites of pasta, two guys in a cabin… sounds pretty gay... Even levels him with a look, says, we had sex two hours ago and Isak shrugs, blushes, tells him, yeah okay then.
  • it was a long bus trip, Isak leaning against Even, playing a game on his phone while Even mumbles which move he should make next, right before kissing the top of Isak’s head. they talk about school for a little while, about Even’s plans for next year, about how Isak’s mom is doing and it’s quiet and it’s comfortable. Even falls asleep after thirty minutes and Isak takes seventeen pictures of him with funny snapchat filters to send to the boys and one normal one, just to keep safe.
  • it was sitting on opposite ends of the couch when they got to the cabin, a blanket thrown over both of them, hot chocolate that Even made them on the table, Isak reading a difficult book on philosophy and Even reading a magazine on obscure indie bands. every once in a while Isak pushes his toes in Even’s shin to tell him about an interesting fact he’s just read, and Even’s all ears as always, asks Isak questions about his opinion on that, his vision on this, because he genuinely wants to know, tells him his chocolate’s getting cold and Isak thinks he could probably stay here forever.
  • it was naked cuddles by the fire, boardgames, cooking together and sleeping in. or, it was Isak sleeping in anyway, Even starting the day off hours earlier by taking a walk around the cabin, taking cool pictures of the lake, and the trees and a deer he spots, coming back with rosy cheeks and a spark in his eye, and forcing Isak to post the pictures on his instagram. it’ll ruin my illuminati vibe, Isak tells him as he picks the right filter for a picture Even took of of Isak’s face as he’s reading a book. or does it? Even replies, as he makes a triangle shape with his fingers and walks away to put on another hoodie.
  • it was three seasons of house of cards and endless discussion about who the bad guy really is, it was a lazy trip back home as Even draws a heart for Isak on the bus window and it was knowing there will be many more to come.
[Bungou Stray Dogs ] 55 Minutes Part 1

[Disclaimer: I’m a fairly new translator, but I’ve tried my best making sense of the story with pretty liberal, but careful decisions when it comes to making the story flow.]

If anyone’s curious about my pacing, all releases (for now) are going to focus on 14 pages each unless a chapter seems to have fewer pages than others. Because I work alone, the chapters will be released depending on my time or unless someone offers help.

BACK TO TRANSLATIONS                                              PAGE 2

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Love Feels Like Loneliness - Thomas (Prologue) [Smut]

Author: @writing-obrien

Character(S): Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 1088

Notes: Masturbation, Fingering, Oral (male receiving), memory loss, bondage, marking, jealousy, biting. Thank you to @stilinski-jpeg for her support in this new series and also for proofreading this part for me, like an angel.

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[Two-shot] Eighteen Hours (Saeran x Reader): Epilogue — Distraction

Your nose was practically pressed up against the cool glass of the window pane as you watched the sky grow bigger and bigger while the earth below became smaller and smaller, till it eventually vanished completely behind the boundary line of white clouds above.

One little thing marred the pure splendor of blue and white outside, however.

Just above the centre, there was a blurred image of a mop of red hair suspended in the middle of the clouds outside. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched your lips apart, as you turned to your right, eyeing the man whose red hair was always distracting you from your cloud-viewing mid-flight.

He raised an eyebrow, looking up from the book he was reading when he noticed you turn his way.

“Done already? Can we switch seats now?”

You sent him a teasing glance, shaking your head. “Saeran, it’s only been fifteen minutes.”

He narrowed his eyes, flatly staring at you in return. He didn’t seem to believe you, which was why he glanced at his watch to check the time. True to your word, it had only been fifteen minutes since the plane started moving, and that only made him release a frustrated sigh. He was impatient. Terribly so.

You thought it was cute whenever he had his lips pressed down like this, the lines on his forehead creasing ever so slightly when his eyebrows drew down in a frown. His fingers were drumming on the front of the book cover, and he kept changing his seating position every few minutes. He was restless, and you knew he was more than eager to change seats with you, even though he had been the one to voluntarily give you the window seat ticket on this flight.

“So, why did you stop looking out? It’s not like you to get distracted,” he commented, trying to make some small talk to make the time go by quicker.

True. It really wasn’t like you to stop looking out the window to look at something else.

“Your hair is distracting,” you answered plainly. It was true. His red hair was so infuriatingly distracting. You could see its reflection in the window, to the tiniest baby strands at the top of his head that swayed with the cool air in the cabin. Like a moving ball of fire in the sky. A meteorite, maybe.

He paused a bit, as if thinking of a suitable comeback in response, but he either couldn’t manage it, or simply thought it too tiresome to try. So he quietly pulled up the hoodie of his jacket to cover his red hair, all while still narrowing his eyes at you.

You chuckled at the gesture, reaching over to insert your hand under the hood of his jacket, threading your fingers through his soft, red hair. It felt nice, like you were petting the head of a little puppy.

“Didn’t you say it was a distraction?” he asked, taking hold of your wrist gently to pry your hand away from his head, before he removed his hood and shook his head in an apparently efficient method to undo the mess you had made of his hair.

“Yes, but I never said I didn’t like it,” you replied, watching with delight as his lips parted and his eyes widened, his gaze now incredulous before he looked away, his ears reddening. That seemed about enough to get him to zip his mouth and to stop pestering you to switch seats with him.

You laughed a little to yourself. It was fun to tease Saeran like this. He was always calm, cool, collected, and in moments like these, you felt proud to be one of the few people to see this side to him: shy, speechless, mildly irritated.

Deciding you were better off using your limited time in the window seat wisely, you turned back to the sky outside, trying to empty your thoughts as you looked at the sea of clouds below, like small, quiet waves along the shore of a beach. You could imagine them rising, receding, without the sound of water crashing on land.

And there it was again. The red hair. The moving target. You could see his face too, the tip of his nose scrunched up slightly, absorbed in his book, his golden eyes hungrily devouring the words on its pages.

You groaned inwardly. It was as Saeran pointed out. It wasn’t like you to get so distracted on a flight. You loved the window seat. It was a must-have on any flight. The clouds outside were your companion, and you could never tear your eyes away from the window.

Except now, things had changed.

Now you had another companion, instead of the clouds, on your flights. Now you had a distraction, one who stole your breath and attention far more effortlessly than the clouds could. Now, you could never decide what you wanted to watch: the clouds, or the subtle changes in his face that he only allowed to show for the merest of seconds.

After a while, the clouds got boring. They were always the same. Just white, against an endless blue. But he, on the other hand, was that red spot, that enigma, in your line of sight, and made it so that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his reflection on the window. He was always changing, unpredictable; there were so many more things you had yet to discover about him. The clouds had bared themselves to you over the years, but not him. You wanted to unravel all the layers that covered him. It was exciting, an adventure all on its own.

And now, you couldn’t tell if you wanted the window seat purely to look at the clouds, or so you could secretly observe him through the reflection on the glass.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you suddenly felt his breath on your ears.

“Wow,” he breathed, and you could smell the scent of peppermint on him. His scent. He was leaning over, his cheek nearly touching yours as he looked out, wide-eyed at the beautiful view outside the window.

“Yeah,” you agreed, though you weren’t really focusing on the sky anymore. You were acutely aware how close he was to you, how his hand was pressed against your thigh, the ring on his finger nudging your right pinky finger.

You felt a sudden rush of emotions, your chest swelling with adoration for him. He was beautiful, far more beautiful than the clouds outside, far more beautiful than what he thought of himself. You adored the excited gleam that lit up his golden eyes; you often saw something similar flicker in his eyes each time he laid his eyes on you. At the start you thought it was just your imagination, but now, now that you were on your way to your honeymoon destination, you knew that those little moments had all been real.

You loved him so much your heart could burst right this instant.

At that moment his eyes darted down to meet yours, the smile on his face faltering when he realized that you had been staring at him all this while. You watched in amusement as a light pink color dusted his cheeks, sputtering, “W-What? Is there something on my face?”

“No,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. Then, moving purely on instinct, you tilted your head upwards, pressing your lips softly against his cheek. A smile lifted your lips as you pulled away and noticed his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed thickly, his eyes darkening as he trained his gaze on you.

Or more accurately, your lips.

“We can switch seats now, if you want,” you spoke, nudging him back so you could stand and give him the prized seat by the window.

He folded his arms across his chest, emitting a small sigh as he watched the clouds go by. Just a few seconds ago he had been amazed by this view, the sight of enormously fluffy clouds crowding in the sky, as if fighting for his attention.

But now, something else had his attention. Or more specifically, someone. He could see her head clearly, reflected right smack in the center of the window pane. She had his attention all to herself. And she knew it. He could tell, from the way she was smiling to herself while pretending to flip through the in-flight-entertainment magazine in her hands.

He resisted the urge to bring his hand up to his cheek, at the spot where the feel of her soft lips lingered. He wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of seeing it. She liked to ruffle his feathers, to make him stumble over his words, to make him look like a fool.

Well, in some ways he supposed he was a fool. And he always would be, when it came to her.

Absently, he traced the cool metal of the ring that adorned his fourth finger with his thumb, and looked once more out the window, at the clouds that once fascinated him to no end, and then to the reflection of the girl who had stolen his attention from them.

She was a distraction. And she seemed rather proud of the fact, too. Every now and then he would catch her sneaking sideways glances at him through the window, a cheeky smile lifting her lips as she tried to catch any more slip-ups from him.

She was beautiful, wise, a maddening tease. The strangest girl he had met yet, but also the one he had come to love more than life itself.

He felt a tap on his hand then, and he turned to look at her now. Her hair, her curious eyes, her cute nose, her lifted cheeks, her soft, pink, luscious lips. Immediately, his mind went back to when she just kissed him on the cheek, and he felt heat begin to crawl up his neck to his ears once more.

“So?” she asked, and he had to ask her to repeat herself. She just couldn’t choose between two movies to watch, so he just told her to watch both. Not helpful, apparently, even though this was an eighteen-hour flight, where she would have plenty of time to watch both.

As she settled back in her seat, selecting the movie with her remote, he couldn’t help but continue to stare at her. Not from the window’s reflection, but her, right there, right next to him. Sometimes he just couldn’t believe that she would be willing to stay by his side, that she could love someone as weird and strange and flawed like him, but then each time he saw her with him, each time their eyes met and she flashed him the warmest, brightest smile that could rival the sun itself, he would be convinced once more, grounded in the truth of her existence and their relationship.

And just then, he felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to feel her lips on his, to take her by surprise just as she had done with him earlier. It would only be fair, after all.

Saeran wasn’t one to act on impulse, but for that moment, he decided he would.

So without any warning, he placed his hand behind the nape of her neck, pulling her in towards him. He heard her gasp at his sudden movement, and his lips curled up into a brief smile before he captured her lips in his, silencing any protests she might have had on the tip of her tongue.

Sweet. He tasted cherries, no doubt because of the candy that she liked to bring on board with her. She was soft, her lips melting against his as she responded in kind, although he could tell she was holding back because they were on the plane and they were in plain sight.

He brushed his tongue lightly against her lips, and smiled to himself when he felt vibration of her quiet moan against his lips. They parted obediently for him, her tongue darting out to meet his.

Instead of going further however, he pulled back, satisfied immensely with the dazed look in her eyes as she stared at him questioningly, her now pinker lips glazed with moisture. Revenge success.


He only gave her a smirk in reply, before swiftly turning away so he could hide the blush blooming in his cheeks, the lingering taste of cherries in his mouth.

At least, now he wouldn’t be the only one distracted on the flight.

…But on hindsight, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to do this so early. After all, they had eighteen hours more on the flight, which meant eighteen hours of having to restrain himself and maintain his cool composure in front of her.

So he looked out at the window, trying to empty his mind by staring at the clouds that were passing by.

And there her reflection was again, her eyes now trained on the screen, while her thumb traced the outline of her lips. Her soft, sweet, pink lips.

With a defeated sigh, he screwed his eyes shut, allowing himself to sink into the darkness instead.

…This flight was certain to be eighteen hours more of agony.

A/N: Yay, done with this one! Hope you enjoyed ;)