#I'd jam pack my life!

[nosferatufaggot]

Hey, can someone make me immortal so I don't have a freak out on a daily basis?

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[mintmatcha]

cw: implied mental illness/substance abuse references

Denki jams his tongue into his cheek as he types, folding his gum in half before popping it between his teeth. The action is repeated: squish, snap, squish, snap-- unmuted by his open mouth. The waves and all their static do nothing to cover the sound of it; the sand was abandoned long before sunset, but the ocean is never quiet.

Suddenly, Denki sits up, looking to you as if he just remembered you exist.

"Shit, you hate that sound, don't you?" He swallows hard and you know the piece of gum is gone, "My bad."

"It's okay."

"I'm just really trying to quit smoking."

"I know."

He stares at you for a long while, then sighs. He drags his finger through the sand, peeling away layers of dry to reveal the darker, wet below. Weight has filled out his cheeks and middle in ways that you know he hates, but it looks so much healthier than he's even been.

"Everyone hated when I smelled like cigarettes apparently," Denki says, trying to laugh, "It sucks that no one told me that I stunk all the time."

Everyone is code for the girl he keeps texting, one one that lights his screen up with pretty pink hearts and messages that make his eyes glimmer. She texts again, a soft yet unrelenting force.

"I liked it." The horizon is dotted with lights, blinking against the surf. They follow their own pattern, blinking arrhythmically with each other against the surf, "It just smelled like you to me."

"Do you..." Denki rubs the back of his neck, "I dunno, do you really miss all that?"

All that includes too much. The peaks, the lows. Before his medications were balanced and before he quit partying, when neither of you had any control over your lives.

"No," you say, and you mean it, "But I miss knowing things about you."

"You know me." Denki's phone buzzes again, "I'm still me."

"I know."

"I'm still your Kaminari."

"I know."

He isn't. He no longer stops for a pack of cigarettes and a row of Hi-Chew every night. He no longer responds to your texts or reaches out first. It's been months since he last passed out on your bathroom floor, months since he asked you if you were alright.

His hair is shorter than he's ever liked it.

A horn goes off in the distance: a ship rolling into port.

"I don't know what to do with you," Denki sighs, "Did you not want me to get better? Because it feels like you didn't want me to."

He waits only a second for you before sighing again.

"Why did you ask me to come here?"

Because you missed him. Because you need a friend. Because you've always come when he's called.

All you even wanted was for him to be okay.

"I just didn't think getting better would mean I'd lose you."

"You didn't-" His phone goes off again, humming and buzzing harder. He scrambles to pick it up, pushing on to his feet. "Fuck, I really gotta take this."

"It's fine."

"I'll be right back."

"It's fine."

He answers and calls her baby with all the warmth and welcome he used to have for you. She's the one he goes to when the waters are calm and life is easy. You are the port in a storm, the one holding an umbrella until the rain passes.

You leave your sneakers there and walk the shore, the lace foam clinging to your socks and salt licking at your jeans. After fifteen minutes, he calls you once. You wait for a text or second try, but it doesn't come.

When you cry, it's from the bottom of the gut, ripping up like bile. The sound is swallowed by the sea.

[tigertales9]

Hard Reset VI Sneak Peek 👀

I'm still putting the finishing touches on the next Hard Reset chapter (bye week secret wedding/honeymoon), but I thought I'd offer a tiny sneak peek. Real life & a touch of writer's block are kicking my butt, but I hope to get the full chapter up soon. 🤞

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Monday, 10/16/23 (the morning after the week 6 win against the Seahawks)

You moan at the feel of gentle pressure against your clit, your eyes fluttering open at the sound of Joe's husky voice in your ear.

"You awake?"

"I am now," you whisper, biting your lip as he rubs your sensitive bud while pressing wet kisses against your neck.

"I woke up thinking about last night and it made me horny," he admits as he continues to tease you.

"Mmmm," you hum, your mind rewinding to last night …

~ ~ ~

He'd made liberal use of the whipped cream, frosting your nipples with the sweet whip several times then licking and sucking it off while you squirmed underneath him; he finally made his way down your body, taking his time to frost your belly button and inner thighs, leaving love bites in sensitive places as you buried a hand in his hair and begged for more. You remember the look on his face when he tossed the can of cream aside, his eyes icy-hot with arousal. "I'm not gonna put any whipped cream here," he moaned, lapping at your wet folds, "because you already taste perfect."

~ ~ ~

The feel of one long finger sliding inside your slick heat brings you back to the present. "Last night was really hot," you sigh, a shiver running through you as he sucks a nipple while slowly pumping his finger in and out. "I'm still kinda sticky since I crashed before taking a shower," you mutter.

"Let me make you stickier then we can shower together," he coaxes, crawling on top of you and giving you a dirty grin when your thighs instinctively spread wide to accommodate his big body. "Okay?" he asks, pressing the tip of his erection against your entrance, holding still until you answer.

"Yes, sir," you breathe, arching up when he slides his shaft inside you and immediately starts thrusting, slow at first and then faster. You dig your fingers into his plump ass, a thrill running through you at the feel of his muscles tensing and reloading as he drives his hips forward again and again, still holding back a little until you're ready to take all of him. A delicious coil of tension builds in your core at the noise he makes low in his throat when you beg him to fuck you hard.

~ ~ ~

An hour and a half later -- after a couple of orgasms, a shared shower and a quick breakfast -- Joe slides the last dish in the dishwasher and wraps his hands around your waist as you place a jar of raspberry jam in the fridge. He drops a kiss on your lips as you pivot and look up at him. "I'll be home by noon," he promises. "Then we can finish packing for the lake."

"I'm already packed," you chuckle. "We're going for three nights not three weeks."

"Well, I still have a few things to pack," he states. "This whole thing was my idea and I just wanna make sure I get it right."

You rise up on your tiptoes and press a kiss on his lips. "They have pretty much everything we need already there," you soothe, ruffling a hand through his hair while giving him a warm smile. "Clothes, toiletries and groceries are the main things we need to take, and we'll buy most of the groceries once we get there."

He returns your smile as he takes a deep breath. "Are you excited we're getting married tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yeah, I am. What about you?"

"Yeah, I can't wait." He leans down and presses a lingering kiss on your lips, holding eye contact as he leans back. "It feels like we've been heading for this since I first laid eyes on you."

[everythingdenied]

breaking the bed in-matty healy

a/n: hi bb's <3 it's been a while, huh? but i'm back on my bullshit & after like eight years of deliberating what to write...i present to you: sub!matty. i wrote most of this half asleep and i haven't proofread it yet but i'm desperate to post so here you all go hehe ;) also, i can't thank @eaglestar31 enough for all the help and inspo w this (including this beautiful fucking picture.) everyone go say thank you evie!!!

warnings: pure filth, fem!reader, mentions of light restrains/being tied up etc wc: 2403

When he and I had shared our first kiss in a dingy Soho bar, drunk on cheap lager and lust, I'd hardly imagined that, one day, we'd find ourselves here, moving in together.

Sat cross legged in our apartment, hearts full and rooms bare, it felt strange to be able to say that, finally, we were settling down. It was only a small flat, a little one bedroom tucked away on the outskirts of Bethnal Green, but I didn't mind one bit. I'd have been content living in an old wheelie bin, as long as it was our wheelie bin to share. I didn't even care that the place was a mess, cardboard boxes littering every room, or that Matty had somehow already managed to make the air heavy with the smell of his cigarettes; I was floating on a high, one that even the tedious building of flat pack furniture couldn't spoil. No matter how much Matty whined about it. 

Padding into our bedroom with my hands curled around a lukewarm cup of coffee, my lips curved into an affectionate smile at the sight before me. Matty was sat cross legged on the floor, brows knitted together in concentration as he desperately tried to screw our new bed-frame together. He'd been at it all afternoon, vehemently insistent that building a bed was light work for him. However, as the hours passed, it had become increasingly obvious that DIY wasn't exactly his strong suit, despite the manly facade he'd initially put on. Albeit, I couldn't complain; watching him hard at work with his sweatpants hanging low on his waist and sweat sheathing his brow had been the highlight of moving day.

"How's it comin' along?" I teased playfully, gingerly leaning against the doorframe as I watched Matty attempt to jam an ill-fitting screw into the bed post, his muscles flexing in his tight black tank top.

Huffing, he let out a frustrated whimper as the screw fell from his hand, hitting the floor with a loud clank.

"Shit..." he cursed, glancing up at me through his wild mop of curls as he scrabbled around for the instructions. "I don't think i'm cut out for this DIY shit. Maybe we should, like, call Ross or summat. He'll be good at this stuff..."

"Aw, poor baby" I chuckled warmly, carefully setting my mug down. "You want some help?"

Matty glanced between me and the jumbled mess of screws and ambiguous metal parts littering the floor, wondering whether to admit defeat, before tentatively nodding his head. "Please..." he mumbled, sounding somewhat deflated. "Can't fuckin' figure this out."

More than happy to oblige, I plopped down atop Matty's lap, his warm hands instantly finding their place on my waist as I reached out for the flimsy manual. He nuzzled into my neck, his unruly curls tickling lightly against my skin as his breath fanned my cheek. I giggled at the sensation, desperately trying not to let my mind wander as I skim read the instructions. Matty, on the other hand, seemed to have already let his fall deep into the gutter, his lips meeting my jawline as he mewled softly.

"You're so gorgeous..." He hummed against my skin, hands snaking beneath the hem of my old t-shirt. "Can't believe I get to share a bed with you for the rest of my life."

Smirking, I cupped the soft curvature of his jaw. "That is if we ever get it built" I quipped teasingly, leaning into his touch momentarily before pulling away. “C’mon…I think I’ve figured out where this piece goes.” 

Matty whimpered lowly, his head falling limp against my shoulder. “Mph, can’t we take a break? Been at this for hours now” 

I rolled my eyes playfully, relishing in the mere thought of denying him what he so desperately yearned for. It was always so easy for me to get him worked up, the most simple act of sitting on his lap rendering him restless and needy, already hardening beneath the confines of his sweatpants.

“I thought you wanted my help?” I turned my head to face him, a teasing smirk tugging on the corner of my lips as I shifted atop his lap, hearing the shaky draw of his breath as my ass brushed over his growing bulge. I reached forward to grab the screwdriver tossed haphazardly onto the floor, feeling his gaze fix on my butt, clad only in a pair of tight shorts.

"Angel..." Matty practically whined, fidgeting uncomfortably beneath me. "Play fair."

"Hmm?" I feigned innocence, biting back the sadistic laughter bubbling in my throat as I watched his eyes glaze over with desire, knowing I had no intention of giving in anytime soon. "I'm not doin' anything."

Matty frowned, listlessly accepting the screwdriver I held out to him. He mumbled something unintelligible under his shaky breath, grumbling like a petulant child as I denied him once more, moving his wandering hands away from the waistband of my shorts.

"What was that, baby?" I hummed lowly, adjusting my position until I was straddling Matty. "C'mon. What did you say?"

"S'not nice to tease..."

"And it's not nice to act like a needy little brat either but...here we both are."

Matty pouted, his tongue darting over his bottom lip as he I cupped his chin in my hands, his usually bright eyes blown wide as he blinked up at me, the golden afternoon sun speckling his face.

"Please, baby..." He choked out. "Can't just get me all worked up like this and do nothing."

I tittered, letting my hands travel to the bag of his neck, grabbing lightly at a handful of his curls.

"Oh, my poor needy boy" I mocked, my honey sweet tone the perfect antitheses to Matty's pained whimper. "Need me to get you off so bad, don't you?" He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped harshly, greedy hands fumbling for any part of my skin he could reach. "Well, you're gonna have to wait, baby. Can't have it yet."

"Angel...please." He breathed out, desperately bucking his crotch up against me.

"Nuh uh, don't be so pathetic. Gotta build this bed first, yeah? Then maybe you'll get your reward..."

Finally realising, much to his chagrin, that no amount of whining or pleading would lead to him getting his way, Matty gave in, distractedly attempting to finish up the flat pack bed he'd been working on all day. His movements were hasty and haphazard and, buzzing with sexual tension, he often found himself screwing wrong ends together, unable to keep himself focused on the task in hand when I was sat only inches away, arse pressed against his throbbing hard on. However, after what felt like hours for both Matty and I, he managed to screw the last end of the bedpost together, looking as if he was about to burst with anticipation as he hurriedly dragged our new mattress onto the bed frame.

His eyes flitted between me and the bed as he carefully sat himself down on the very edge, breath catching his throat as I moved to straddle his waist once more, fingers trailing his biceps.

"Good job, baby" I cooed sweetly, fingers teasing the waist band of his sweats. My core dripped at the very prospect of what I was about to do. "Did so well for me. My big strong boy. Think you deserve your reward now, yeah?"

Matty nodded frantically, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. "P-please, baby. Been so good."

"Mhm, you have" I agreed, shimmying his pants down slightly so that his cock finally sprung free, its tip an angry rouge. Smiling, I placed my hand on his chest, pushing him back lightly. "Lie back for me, sweet boy."

Eager to do what he was told, Matty lay back against the mattress, gasping as my thumb trailed down the base of his cock, collecting some of his dripping pre-cum.

"God, look how fuckin' desperate you already are, baby. Been wanting to break the bed in all day, hmm?" I held my thumb to his pink lips. "Wanna taste how fuckin' needy you are?" Matty nodded once more, taking my thumb in his mouth without question as he licked it clean off his own arousal, whimpering as I continued to grind my hips against him. "Good boy."

His jaw slackened and my thumb fell from his lips as I leaned down to kiss him softly, the usually loving gesture oozing with sex. Pulling apart, I moved from the bed, tiptoeing across the room to reach into one of the cardboard boxes Matty and I had lugged into our apartment earlier this morning.

"Baby...w-what?" Matty whimpered from his position on the bed, craning his neck to look for what could have possibly taken my attention away from him.

"Shh, s'okay, baby. One sec." I crooned, finally finding what I'd been looking for under a heap of Matty's clothes stuffed into a box. I pulled the thin black neck tie from the box, a satisfied smile on my lips as I clambered back atop Matty, watching his plump lips form a knowing 'O' shape. "Gonna let me tie you up, pretty boy?"

He was more than happy to agree, gazing up at me in awe as I took ahold of his slender wrists, delicately looping the satin tie around them until it was just tight enough to restrain his hands behind his head. "Feel okay?" I asked, sitting back to admire him as he lay sprawled out on our new bed, his sweatpants pooling around his knees. I relished in how vulnerable he looked like this, his skin beaded with sweat and his hair tousled as he nodded his head submissively, desperate for my touch. "Good. Look so pretty like this. All tied up for me."

I hummed to myself, fingers brushing over his throbbing cock once more before I wrapped my hand around it, languidly pumping him a few times as he writhed beneath me.

"Angel, f-fuck, please. N-need to be in you."

"I know, baby, I know. Do anything for this cunt, wouldn't you?" I teased, keeping my pace painfully slow as I moved my hand up and down his length as his hazy brown eyes bore into me, wordlessly begging for more as he lay helpless beneath me. I could tell he longed for nothing more than to touch me and, whilst I adored the feeling of having his hands roam my body, I couldn't help but relish in seeing him completely at my mercy. "Want me to use you, love? Get myself off on your cock?

"S-shit...please. Use me, b-baby. Do anything. Just...fuck...need you" Matty pleaded breathlessly ,bucking his hips into my hand as I felt his release, already on the brink of undo after an hours worth of teasing. I carefully pulled my hand away, watching his wrists strain against his makeshift restrains as I moved to slip off my shorts, tossing them onto the floor along with the lace panties he'd bought me months ago.

Adjusting my position, I lowered myself down onto Matty's length, feeling him fill me up completely. He let out a choked whimpered, practically on the verge of tears by the time I eventually began to rock my hips. I started off slow, moving almost rhythmically along with the cacophony of choked moans and whines I'd elicited from his lips. However, with each pleading whimper, I found it hard to tease, so intent on my own release that I started to bounce on his cock, hands splayed out on his chest as I chased my own high, fucking myself on him.

"Fuck...doing so good for me, sweet boy. Feel good?"

He said nothing, only whimpering as he rolled his hips into mine. However, he needn't say a word anyhow; watching his eyes roll back into his head as he panted messily beneath me said more than any amount of praise could.

Soon enough, I could feel myself tightening around him, pleasure clouding my mind as I rode him, knowing he wouldn't be far behind from me. As if on cue, Matty bucked his hips sharply into me, his back arching off the soft mattress. "F-fuck, angel. Please...f-faster. Don't stop...think i'm gonna...fuck" He breathed out, a slew of incoherent curses leaving his parted lips as I sank down onto his hard cock once more, feeling it twitch inside my warmth. "You gonna cum, baby? S'that what you're tryna say" I mocked his unfinished words teasingly, thumbs digging into his waist as I rode him, the filthy sound of skin slapping together echoing around the almost completely bare room. "M'not far off. Hold it in for me till I cum, yeah? Think you can...think you can do that for me, pretty boy?"

Matty nodded tentatively, seemingly unsure of his own ability to hold off but willing to try for me as I sped up my movement, seconds away from release.

"That's my good boy."

Soon enough, I felt myself start to come undone around him, my nails digging harshly into his skin soft as I drew out my high, leaving little red nail marks peppered along his waist. I let out a prolonged moan, barely slowing as I encouraged Matty to let go with me, lidded eyes watching as the love of my life writhed in pleasure beneath me, marked and tied; all mine.

"C'mon, baby. Cum for me, yeah? Doing so good" I praised him breathlessly, watching him desperately roll his hips into me, whimpering loudly until he finally let go, his back falling against the mattress as he finally came, his cum dripping out of my sensitive pussy and down the base of his red-raw length.

"F-fuck...b-baby. Thank you....thank you" He panted heavily, chest rising and falling as he remained deep inside of me, hands still bound together with one of his favourite ties as he blinked up at me through bleary eyes, our heads swimming with pleasure.

His sensitive body jolted as, after taking a few moments to recover, I slowly lifted myself off of him, making sure to be as delicate as possible as I heard him whimper at the loss of contact. Shuffling beside him, I reached out for his wrists, leaning down to kiss him as my fingers shakily worked to remove his restrains.

"Gonna take these off now, yeah, sweet boy? Think we've broken the bed in enough for today...."

[neverevan]

When the inevitable will discussion does happen for Buddie, do you think it'll happen as an outburst or they'll do it calmly? I feel like it'll start as an outburst but then they'll calm down later

mm I guess it depends on what'll bring it on, right? but I'd love a discussion that is somehow both. I'd love Eddie being in a hospital bed for some bullshit stunt he pulled, being all calm and collected and Buck going off the rockers about how it wasn't a fair position to put him in or you know, the reverse: Buck putting them into a position where if one of them dies, so does the other and Eddie telling him off about it, loudly, while Buck is all chill, because no matter what, he'll go in to try and save Eddie anyday and there is no talking him out of that.

all that being said, this season was rushed and jam packed, so I can accept it not coming up, but I desperately need a situation in season 8 where it comes up, because it's been four years and we haven't heard a word! do the others even know? did they talk about it or just keep acting like nothing life changing happened in that hospital room? I need the deets, my god.

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch10: Winds of Change

Summary: Returning to the Winchesters does not meet expectations... Referenced Episodes: S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: Alcohol. Arguing. Normal Supernatural things. Another ridiculously long chapter, my b. Word Count: 8209 Recommended Song: Winds of Change -- Scorpions Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I gnawed on my lower lip as I jammed another number into my phone, praying that this time one of the brother’s would pick up. I had a handful of Dean’s phone numbers and only two of Sam’s, but I knew they had more that they hadn’t felt the need to share with me. It all came down to which phone they were actively using for the case they were on. There was no consistency with them.

I glared down at the number I knew to be linked to Dean’s ATF persona. There was a chance he would answer, but it was slim. I really needed a better way to get ahold of the brothers. I sighed and hoped I would have better luck with Sam as I dialed one of his numbers next.

After six long rings, the call dropped. No answer. I pinched the bridge of my nose and kicked at a pebble in the middle of the deserted motel parking lot. Apparently, I'd need to call all of their numbers.

Three numbers in I finally heard a receiving click on the other end and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello?" came Sam's gruff voice on the other end. I was surprised to hear his voice instead of his older brother's.

"Sam? Hey, it’s me," I heard a lot of shuffling from the other end, like he had bolted upright from shock. “Where, um… where are you guys?”

Sam was silent for a beat before speaking again. "Is everything alright?" I flinched at the wariness in his tone.

"I'm fine, Sam. Better than fine actually," I answered quietly. I placed my other hand over the speaker of the phone and turned my back to the motel parking lot conspiratorially. My voice dropped to a soft tone. "Look, I… I know it’s been a while and you probably don’t want to see me, but-"

"I do," he interjected quickly and I clamped my mouth shut. "Believe me, I do- we do. But what about your pack? And, well… I mean, Dean’s pretty pissed. He’s been pissed. He’s been throwing himself into this hunt for dad."

I frowned at the worn pavement beneath my feet. I figured he would be mad at me, but facing the reality of the situation hurt regardless. Maybe I could just… ignore it all. Go back to my pack, forget it ever happened. Like I never met them. Would that be easier?

No. No, that would hurt more. I mentally cursed myself for getting so attached. "Did you tell him why?”

"Yeah, yeah I tried to explain it to him. But… well, look at it from his perspective. Dean’s spent his whole life killing, and the one time he decides not to…" he sounded distraught and I heard more shuffling from the other end.

He didn’t need to finish his thought for me to know what he meant. Dean had done me a favor by not killing me when we first met. At the time it hadn’t felt like much of a favor – maybe death would have been safer. But now, with how much our lives had changed… it was understandable that he was frustrated. The one different choice he made led to a human being killed and me running off without a word.

I fell silent, pondering what to say next. How was I supposed to explain to them why I left? I think Sam understood better than he was letting on. It wasn’t too dissimilar to why he left for college, although his reasoning wasn’t nearly as bloody. But Dean… it made sense that he would be hurt…

"I want to see you, Sam – both of you. I want to apologize to Dean, but I can't do that unless I see him."

Sam sighed from the other end. "OK. I'll… keep you updated on where we are.”

After a flood of profuse thank-yous and Sam's chuckles, the line finally went dead. He had given me a location amongst my gratitude and I was already slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

—

After half a day of travel, the sun was setting and I was thoroughly exhausted. Upon seeing the welcome sign that coaxed me into the small city I stretched my arms high above my head and allowed myself to slow to a steady walking pace.

Oddly enough, my heart felt heavy, like something severe was weighing on me. It was... an odd sensation that I hadn't felt in a very long time - not since my parents were still with me. Oddly enough, it was less of a weighing feeling and more of a tug. The tug itself was heavy, and it felt like it was pulling on a part of me that I didn't want to be released.

Something didn’t feel right.

I hummed and frowned slightly, my eyebrows creasing with worry. Maybe it was a mistake to come looking for the Winchesters before the pack? I had half a mind to turn back, but... I still didn't feel ready. If Sam and Dean were afraid of what I had done, how would my pack feel? They depended on the stability and different lifestyle my home provided. I kicked the occasional large stone out of my way as I traipsed down the road, headed toward whatever lay at the end of it. Hopefully a warm bed.

After another thirty minutes of walking, something I grumbled about to myself, I finally spotted dim lights behind a row of thick pine trees. My ears pricked at the sound of the engines roaring to life in the early night, something that oddly warmed my heart and made me want to prance. It wasn't long after that the stench of alcohol hit my nose.

The bar was a brick building on the edge of town, a neon sign glowing above the door and the building itself set into the corner of the block. The occasional car or motorcycle was parked out front. I smiled and brushed my hand affectionately over the front of an older motorcycle – I had always wanted to learn how to ride them. I wondered what it felt like to be on something so small, barrelling down a highway faster than I could run.

My eyes rose, scanning the line of cars until they settled on a sleek older model across the street. My eyes widened and a grin tore across my face. It was the Impala.

I whirled toward the door so fast that I nearly fell over, tripping over my own feet like a stumbling drunk. My senses dulled as the stench of alcohol hit my nose once again. The harsh smell practically threw me off my feet and made my eyes water. I couldn't place any other scent amongst the heavy, bourbon-filled air and that alone sunk anxious claws into my lungs, oxygen being stolen from them.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, grounding myself. The overwhelming scents and smells were driving my wolfish senses crazy, as they still hadn't calmed from my last escapade with the brothers. It had been weeks since I was in a room with this many people. I felt small and large at the same time. Small with worry and nerves. Large with fearsome hunger.

I rolled my shoulders and took a few more deep breaths, sifting through the heavily masked scents. My eyes flew open as a familiar scent hit my nose and I struggled to keep the rising gold color down.

Cherries.

I pushed my way through the crowd of drunkards and bikers. It was exactly the kind of scene Dean liked. Loud enough to quiet his own raging thoughts. Dark enough to dull the headache behind his eyes. Music he could get lost in, and a drink that burned just right.

"Hey," I spoke cautiously as I sat beside him and rested my forearms on the bar counter. Dean spared me a glance from the corner of his green eye and suddenly jumped. He did a double take out of shock and turned to me with wide eyes and parted lips. As suddenly as his surprise had come, it was gone and darkened with spite.

"What do you want?" he growled and took a long sip from his whiskey glass, failing to hide his frown.

I frowned, my brows knitted with frustration. I could already tell this wasn't going to be a good conversation. "I came to apologize."

Dean scoffed and tightened his grip on his glass. "Apologize for what? Abandoning us without a word?" he exhaled and glared at me. "That's not something I'll accept an apology for, sweetheart." I bristled. Although most of his nicknames were endearing, this one was spat out like it burned him.

"I had my reasons, Dean. You know I wouldn't leave without a good one-"

"Do I know that?" he snarled, spinning his stool to face me. "Cause it seems like you don't give a damn about Sam or me, or how we felt." I winced and opened my mouth to speak. He shushed me with a raised finger. "So what's your excuse? You got tired of us holding you back from going apeshit?"

Ow. I glowered at him. "You know I would never do that."

"Yeah? You seemed pretty content when you had your teeth sunk into Jared Bender's heart." I winced again, my glare cracking. "You didn't even know his name, did you?"

"He was trying to kill Sam," I growled, trying to justify my actions. "You would have done the same."

"Damn right I would have killed him. I would have shot his ass dead, would’ve been dead before he hit the dirt. But I certainly wouldn't have torn him apart and strung his organs around the room!" he growled between his teeth. He tried to keep his voice low, despite the uninterested roar of the bar occupants.

I balled my fists in my lap and glared at him as he twisted to face me. His jaw was set sternly, lips pressed into a thin line. It was the same look he gave Sam when the two argued. “You’re a hypocrite.” My tone caused my words to lose their bite.

"I'm a hypocrite? You fucking killed and nearly ate a man, and now you're trying to justify it to me!" he snapped, one corner of his mouth drawn up in a sneer. "You left Sam and me without a word! And now you're crawling back here to apologize and call me a hypocrite?"

My blood was boiling and once more my senses were raging. I couldn't quite grasp it, but it almost felt like a separation inside me, one side longing to beg for forgiveness and the other itching to sink its fangs into Dean's neck. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, struggling to ground myself again.

Maybe a few months as friends wasn’t enough to convince him I wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he should’ve aimed for the head when we first met.

Without missing a beat I snapped back at him. "Quit acting like a girl whose prom date stood her up. I had my reasons and if you'll shut up for a few minutes, I'll tell you what was going through my head," I exhaled shakily and glared, steeling myself for his own reproachful response. "I left to protect you, to protect Sam, and to protect everyone around you. I wasn't stable – you know that, you saw it. So stop talking like a self-righteous prick."

Despite the quick tongue-lashing, I still didn't feel better. I hadn't said half of what I wanted to. If I could have given Dean a glimpse inside my thoughts, I would have in a heartbeat.

His frown remained stalwart on his features, furrowed brows unyielding. His viridescent eyes surveyed my own with contempt and barely contained anger, an emotion I mirrored. Eventually, his gaze reluctantly dropped back to the beer I had passed him, which he took a swig of. I felt a small victory until he spoke up.

"Get out," he grumbled.

"What?" I demanded with equal, if not more, frustration.

"Get out," he ordered more firmly this time with rage coating his words. I blinked in confusion – not just at his harsh words, but at the gripping pain in my chest and the harsh scratching, I felt in the back of my mind, like something fighting to escape. It struck me that Dean was really, truly angry with me for leaving, despite my reasoning – and from what I knew of him, he wasn't just going to forgive and forget.

He swore under his breath and whipped his head toward me, eyes raging with rage and, to my amazement, pain. "Are you deaf?" he snarled lowly, "I don't want to hear your excuses. Fuck off." He gripped his beer tightly and guzzled it then slammed it onto the counter.

Wrath hit me like a semi-truck, and that familiar clawing sensation I kept hidden in the back of my thoughts lunged forward. Those nagging thoughts took the form of my wolf, black fur ruffled and fangs bared in anger.

Whatever wolfish instincts I had let escape were now clawing to take control. For the first time in a long time, I felt like two beings at once. As I had surmised earlier, I had the very human side that wanted nothing more than to avoid conflict, that just wanted to apologize to Dean and work things out. But my monster side...

I gulped and glared viciously at Dean.

I felt a rumble low in my chest, a familiar rumble that I had last felt with my father. My wolf wanted me to tear into Dean, a human that we had somehow bound to our pack. Now this pup was blatantly challenging me, as she put it. She snarled at him and I resisted the urge to follow suit.

She was pacing in my mind, stalking back and forth, her molten eyes fixated on Dean. My own eyes faded to match the warm gold of hers, whiskey-colored in the faded glow of the bar lights.

I hadn't even realized just how much I was shaking. My wolf wanted out, wanted to shred him for his disloyalty. It was an odd feeling to be separated from a piece of myself, although the more I focused on her, the more I realized that we had been separated for a long time. For years, I lacked the fluid mobility between myself and my instinct, not the mobility that I once had. I hadn't had it since I was fifteen. It felt like I was holding back a tidal wave of torrential emotions, a painful instinct that wanted me to embrace the monster I was and chow on some hearts. Not Dean though. She wanted him back in his place as my... pack member? Was that what she- I viewed him as?

Dean swore again, finally breaking eye contact. He reached for his beer with a shaky hand and took another final swig before wiping his mouth and standing. "Fuck this," he grumbled, "I'm out."

He hadn't even made it three steps before something in me snapped and I snarled. "Sit your ass down before I sink my teeth into you and drag you back."

Dean whirled on me, chest heaving with fury. I turned my blazing golden eyes on him, slowly, with my mouth set into a firm line and eyebrows slightly drawn together. It struck me that this was the same look my mother had given my father when she was pissed as all hell, a look that clearly said he needed to shut up if he wanted to keep his testicles intact.

Like my father, Dean responded with a slack jaw, opening and closing his mouth in surprise and confusion. His resolve, although still strong, was withering.

 I nodded toward his vacated stool. He sat and shot me an angry glance, trying (and failing) to mask his nerves.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves. I stretched my fingers, feeling my joints pop after being balled into tight fists for god know how long. With a sigh, I locked eyes with Dean once more, his narrowed and wary.

"You know full well I had to leave, Dean." I snapped. "If I hadn't left, I guarantee you would have eventually sent me home, thinking my pack could help. Don't act pissy with me for doing what I felt was right."

Dean glowered and his nostrils flared. "Having a reason doesn't change that fact that you left without a word-"

"- If I had told you I was leaving, would you have asked me to stay?"

"Of course, I would have!" he hissed and leaned forward. "Whether you like it or not, you're part of this family now. I'm not going to just let my family walk out on me like that."

"That's the problem, Dean!" I argued. "I know that, if you had asked, I would have stayed! Sam wouldn't have asked, he would accept my decision and move past it, because he’s made that decision before for himself! You though, you would have gotten so caught up in your familial ideas that I wouldn't have been able to leave!"

"What's so wrong about staying with us!? About staying with me!?" he shouted back, a snarl set on his features. My eyes widened and he followed suit, realizing just what he had said.

"Dean, I had to leave," I uttered quietly. "For the second time in my life, I royally fucked up. I needed- need to get back on the same page. You know that feeling better than most."

"Why are you risking it?" he grumbled. I smiled weakly.

"Because you're my family too, Dean. Whether you like it or not, you're part of my pack now. You're family," I answered quietly. His own eyes softened. "Are you still mad at me?" I inquired with a nervous smile.

"Hell yeah, I'm still mad," he grunted. "But yeah... I get it. Wish I didn't, it would make staying mad at you a hell of a lot easier."

My nervous smile grew to a true grin, the gold fading from my eyes. My wolf scoffed and sat back on her haunches, melting into the background of my thoughts.

My human side had won yet again.

"Don't think you're off the hook," Dean huffed and stood from his stool. "You've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, Scooby."

"Would pie be a good first step?" I teased, standing up with him.

His expression softened slightly. The harsh lines of his scowl faded and the corners of his mouth dipped down in a frown. His brows pinched inward, hiding slight surprise. “It’s a start.”

—

Unlike his brother, Sam was happy to see me. I practically threw myself at him when I saw him in the motel room. Dean sulked and ate his pie while Sam and I caught up, discussing hunts and my own journey.

"Wait, so what do you mean you can't change shape?" Sam said, raising a forkful of pie to his mouth. "Isn't that, like, literally part of being... you?"

"Kind of," I uttered through my own forkful. "It's a mental barrier. Sometimes I can get it… close, sometimes I can't. The times that I can take multiple tries and usually it's kind of painful. Hurts my joints."

"What kind of mental barrier? Like a trauma barrier or you just don't want to?"

I huffed and reached for another bite of my slice. "I don't know. It's... it's like my mind knows I won't always be able to control what I do in that form. It's like a piece of me is trying to keep that instinctive part of me tied down."

I heard a snort from behind me and spun to face Dean, who was sitting at a little table under the window next to the door. "Why're you talking like it's two separate people? It's still you, right?"

I exhaled softly, choosing my words carefully when I spoke up. "Yeah, it's still me, but it's a side of me that I'm not very... in touch with. I haven't been in a long time."

"So your wolf is that instinctive part of you that you're keeping 'tied down'?" Sam inquired. I nodded.

"I think so. And she's been a lot rowdier since Minnesota. Over the years I've just... made a habit of keeping her chained down so that I don't have any screw-ups."

"And yet," snapped Dean, "you still didn't have a strong enough grip on her." He shoved a large bite of pie into his mouth and chewed, his jaw tensing. I practically wilted and stared down at my feet that were stretched out in front of me. His opinion on the matter had changed so drastically since before I left.

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "I know you're pissed, but you don't need to be an ass-"

"It's fine, Sam," I uttered. "He's not wrong." I huffed and brushed a hair out of my face. "I know it's not an excuse but... when my pack is involved, I just lose control. I'm going to keep working on it," I sighed. "I've never had a pack before – never wanted one – so, it's all so new to me. And now I have to worry about six skinwalkers and two humans that have somehow wormed their way into my family-" Dean winced. "- I've got to worry about my self-control and make sure I don't kill anyone, I have to figure out these damn whispers, and-"

"Hold up," said Sam, throwing up a halting hand. "What whispers?"

I paled. I hadn't meant to let that slip out. I didn't want the brothers to worry about whatever weird-ass whispers I had been hearing - I knew that they'd get fixated on figuring it out and potentially killing whatever it was. They didn't have the time or resources to help me with that -- hell, I didn't even know if it was actually a living thing talking to me. For all I knew, some celestial entity was trying to give me advice. At worst, I was going nuts.

"I- uh," I stuttered over my words. I jumped as Dean stood, tossing his paper plate in a trash can and sitting on the bed beside Sam. I refused to turn to him and continued staring at my feet and my place on the floor. "I've just been hearing these weird whispers. It's nothing too crazy-"

"Whispers are pretty frickin’ crazy,” Dean remarked firmly. I frowned. "Keep talking."

"There's not much to tell, Dean," I snapped, twisting to face him with a scowl. "I just hear this whisper. When I try to follow it, it... it shows me things."

"It shows you things?" Sam asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Like, I was chasing it when I met Marcus and Caeden. I just... followed the whisper and it led me to them. And with Calliope, it was... it wasn't whispering. It was screaming, frantic. It made me frantic. It knew she was in danger and it took me to her."

Dean swore under his breath. "How long have you been hearing these things? What are they saying to you?"

I scrunched my brows in thought. "It's been about three months I think? Maybe a little more?" Dean scoffed.

"And you're only telling us about this now?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say!?" I snarled back. "'Oh hey Dean, just wanted to let you know that I might be going a bit crazy, cause this voice I know literally nothing about it talking to me'!?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "That is exactly what you tell us! And then we help you figure out whatever the hell it is and maybe kill it!"

I huffed and turned away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I don't think it needs to be killed."

"What?" Dean growled and leaned forward, "What if it leads you into danger huh? What if it drags you into something you can't handle!?"

I whipped around to glare at him. "Would you even care, Dean? Last I checked, you didn't want me around anyway."

"Guys," Sam silenced us with a warning tone, snapping out of his deep thoughts. "Quit going at each other's throats, it's pointless."

"She wouldn't go for the throat, Sammy," Dean growled, balling his hands into fists, "She'd go for the heart."

"If you don't shut the hell up I will beat the shit out of you," I hissed back.

"I'd like to see you try," he snapped back.

"Would you two just shut up!" Sam snapped and glared at the both of us like he was ready to maim. "We've got bigger problems than you dumbasses not getting along." Dean and I fell silent, dropping our harsh gazes from one another and onto the floor. I could practically feel Dean's blood boiling - he was seething. I was too. I hated the way he was talking to me, treating me. Sam placed his hands on his face, dragging them down languorously, and sighed out of frustration. I perked up as he said my name. "What are the whispers saying to you?"

I hummed in thought. "Things like 'come', mostly," Dean snorted and I glared at him. "Last time it said 'see' and 'go'. Pretty much as soon as I realized something was wrong it changed what it was saying."

"Is it always only one word?"

"Yeah, one word at a time. Usually, there's a long pause and then it says something else. Last time... last time it was screaming so loud that it felt like it was clawing inside my skull," I mused for a second, mulling it over. "Pretty much every other time it's been like an existential thing like I was chasing someone just ahead of me. That time it felt like it was... pushing me, almost. Like it was urging me forward instead of urging me to chase."

Sam ruminated for a few moments, looking puzzled. Finally, he turned to Dean and muttered, "What do you think? Have you seen anything like that in dad's journal?"

Dean shook his head and fiddled with the odd-looking charm hanging around his neck. "No, I haven't. Honestly, sounds like a possession of some sort," his words faded into deep thought. His eyes rose to meet mine. "Can skinwalkers even get possessed?"

"Not that I know of. To my knowledge, you have to have a soul to get possessed."

Sam's eyes widened and he leaned forward with interest. "You don't have a soul?"

I shook my head. "Don’t think so. My dad told me it's why we don't go to heaven or hell when we die."

Dean quirked a brow. "Then where do you go? And how did he know?"

I shrugged. "For all I know there's nothing after death for monsters. It's just... over..." my shoulders slumped. I had always hoped that my father was wrong, that maybe there was something, anything after death. I didn't want it to just be over.

"Well, if it's not possession," Dean grumbled and leaned back on his hands, "maybe it's a demon?"

"Dean, why would a demon be talking to her?" Sam countered. "It's not like she can sell her soul."

I frowned. "What if it's not anything bad? What if it's, like, her? Instinct? Maybe I just subconsciously know when something is wrong with the pack?"

"No," Sam stated. "It can't be that. You said it led you to Marcus and Caeden? They weren't part of your pack at the time. Unless your instinct latches on to potential pack members nearby, I don't think that's it."

“Well if it were that, it would have led me to Sasha, Booth, and Andrew long before you guys rolled into town.”

“Unless they were the catalyst that sent your… pack honing abilities into overdrive?” Dean offered. 

"Whatever the reason is for it talking to me-" I started, referring back to Sam's previous statement, "- as long as the thing stays out of my way, I don't care what it says or leads me to."

Sam chuckled. "Fair enough. We can figure out our game plan for dealing with this thing later." The younger brother yawned, covering his mouth with his hand.

"We?" I questioned teasingly. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

Dean huffed and stood from Sam's bed and marched toward his own. He flopped onto the bed, landing on his back and locking his eyes with the ceiling. "Damn right this is a 'we' operation. No way in hell are we letting you figure this out on your own."

I chuckled dryly. “Doesn’t sound like you’re mad at me anymore.”

He scoffed. "Sure, soon we'll be frolicking in a meadow full of flowers together."

Sam chuckled with me as he rummaged through his bag, hunting for a toothbrush within it and setting out a set of clothes for the following day. "Alright, you two," he said, "we've got a hunt tomorrow, so enough talking."

I quirked a brow, my grin falling away. "We've got a hunt?"

Sam nodded and hummed in response. "Murder in Chicago."

I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, like that's uncommon for Chicago." A rustling caught my attention and I turned to see Dean rummaging through his own luggage.

Sam smirked down at his bag and turned to face me, toothbrush in hand. "This is the second one in two months. Two people found dead in their apartments, no sign of forced entry."

My brows rose in surprise. "Spirit maybe?"

Dean huffed. "We were thinking a cursed object. No way a spirit could move between houses like that." I nodded in agreement. I wasn't exactly knowledgeable on all the spiritual aspects of the supernatural world – ask me anything about certain monsters, and I could answer more than most hunters. But ghosts, psychics, witches... those were all foreign. Hell, I had only heard stories about psychics before meeting Missouri Moseley.

"We'll find out what it is soon," interjected Sam, always the mother of the group. "Just get to sleep - especially you, Dean, since you'll be driving tomorrow."

Dean grumbled something under his breath and flopped back onto his bed, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. I grinned and made my way toward a rather large armchair in the corner of the room. I dragged a cushion off the chair and motioned for Sam to toss me a pillow. To my delight, he tossed two and a heavy blanket that had been folded and lain across the end of the bed.

After putting together my relatively comfortable nest, Sam turned out the light and the sound of peaceful snores filled the room.

—

The Impala rolled to a halt on the side of the packed road and Dean expertly parked against the curb. Sam sighed and ruffled his hair, scanning the newspaper seated in his lap.

I leaned forward and gazed out the front window at the apartment building before us. The room was somewhere on the third floor. I fiddled with the hem of my costume and followed the brothers out of the car, my eyes following Dean as he moved toward the trunk and withdrew a toolbox. He had hardly said anything to me since the night I got back. The most he would do is give me the necessary information for the case or give me a clipped answer to a question.

I missed bantering with him. I didn't like this odd silent treatment I was receiving from him. It put me in a bad mood every time he gave me a brief answer or even none at all. I wanted nothing more than to scream at him to get over himself and just forgive me already.

"You know," Dean started as he paced down the sidewalk toward where Sam and I were standing, "I've gotta say, dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork." He grinned and swung his toolbox lazily at his side. "What was that play you did?" he asked Sam, a smirk dawning on his features. He stumbled for a moment, struggling to remember the name. "What was it - ‘Our Town’? Yeah, you were good, it was cute."

Sam scoffed and a blush tinged his ears and cheeks. I chuckled, punching him teasingly in the shoulder. "You never told me you were in a play, Sam."

He chuckled nervously and turned his head to me. "It was a long time ago, and I really didn't have a big part. I was a background character."

"Main character in my heart," Dean teased. Sam rolled his eyes.

"But honestly, Dean. This getup helps us look the part. Do you want to pull this off or not?" Sam quickly changed the subject.

"I'm just saying, these outfits cost hard-earned money."

"Whose?" I countered and glared teasingly.

"Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?"

It didn't take us long to reach the third floor and the door of the victim. The landlady grumbled and fumbled with the keys before pushing the white door open to let us in.

"Thanks for letting us look around," Sam said to her politely. Dean and I paced around the hallway, him fumbling with the alarm system while I checked for any signs of forced entry on the door.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so..." she trailed off and sauntered into the room with Sam close behind. I shut the door and quirked an eyebrow at the severed chain lock. I caught Dean's attention and nodded toward it, holding the two ends of the golden chain delicately. Dean frowned and turned to follow the landlady and his brother. "You said you're with the alarm company, right?" the older woman asked and spun to face the brothers.

"That's right," answered Dean, flashing his most sincere smile. It looked more like a grimace, in all honesty. He really wasn't that good at the acting part of this job.

The woman huffed wearily in response. "Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man." I choked down laughter and covered my mouth with a hand. She leaned around the boys to cast me a sly grin.

Dean cleared his throat and flashed his own tentative grin. "Well, that's why we're here. To make sure it never happens again." The woman nodded and stepped aside to allow us to peruse the apartment.

"You found the body, right?" I asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She nodded and swallowed dryly. "Were there any signs of a forced entry?"

"Any windows open?" Sam asked. "Was the alarm still active?"

"Windows were locked, front door was bolted. We had to cut the chain to get in here," she grouched in response. Dean frowned – that chain was the only lead we had. We were back to square one.

"Did you find her right after it happened?" Dean asked, referencing the girl who had been killed. The landlady shook her head.

"No, a few days later. Her work called and said they hadn't seen her in a while. I knocked on her door. That's when I noticed... the smell," she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory.

"And what condition was she in?" Dean pressed. The landlady huffed and glared at him.

"Meredith was all over the place, in pieces. I tell you, the guy who did it must have been a whack job. If I didn't know any better, I would have said it was an animal attack." The brothers looked first at each other and then Sam's eyes met mine. My brows furrowed. What could possibly have shredded her like that?

Sam's eyes flitted toward the woman. "Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time and give this place a once over?"

The landlady shrugged in response. "Go right ahead, knock yourself out." My eyes followed her as she walked out of the apartment, waiting for the door to latch before giving the go-ahead to speak.

"So a killer walks in and out of the apartment, no weapons, no prints, nothing..." Dean grumbled, trailing off as he rifled through his toolbox. I hummed quietly in response.

"There's got to be a trace of something here, some sort of clue. There's no way something could have killed her and not left a trail," I said, tracing a few fingers lazily over the large spots of blood.

"I'm telling you, the minute I saw the article I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said, inspecting the windows. He jumped when Dean's EMF meter went off.

"I think I agree with you," Dean answered as he held up the box to show off the number of lights indicating supernatural presence.

"Did you ever talk to the cops yesterday?" I asked him.

Dean nodded and stood from his crouch position on the once white carpet. "Oh, yeah," he said, smirking. "I talked to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law." I rolled my eyes.

"What'd you find out?" Sam pressed. I flashed him a quick glare which he looked rather confused by.

"Well, she's a Sagittarius, loves tequila - I mean, wow," Dean sighed almost wistfully, "Oh! And she's got this little tattoo-"

"Jesus, Dean!" I snapped. "Not about your hook-up, about the case!"

Dean grumbled something I didn't catch. I glared at the back of his head, almost wishing I could bore holes into it. "Nothing we don't already know," he carped. "Except for one thing they're keeping out of the papers."

"Enough with the suspense, Dean," I said. At this point, I just wanted this case to be over. I already was not a fan of Chicago.

"You're no fun," he sighed. "Meredith's heart was missing."

Sam and I both jumped to attention, whirling on Dean with twin, wide-eyed stares.

"Her heart? What do you think did it to her?" Sam inquired.

"Landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe a werewolf?"

I barked out a laugh. "No way it was a werewolf. Moon cycle isn't right, and even if it was, I'd smell it. They reek, like the worst combination of rotten meat and cigarettes." I scrunched my nose at the thought. "My money's on a spirit. If it was a monster, I guarantee they would have left some trace other than blood."

"Yeah..." Dean mused thoughtfully. His eyes scanned the patches of blood, drawing a pattern in his mind. "Sammy, see if you can find a roll of tape."

Sam dug through his brother's toolbox as I went to stand beside Dean. "Notice something?"

"Maybe," he offered, holding his hands up to catch the roll of tape Sam had tossed his way. "We'll see in just a minute."

Dean got to work, connecting the patches of blood in a pattern I had never seen before. Hell, I wouldn't have even thought it would make a pattern like that. I chuckled morbidly, thinking that whatever killed Meredith must have been some sort of abstract artist - first the body, now the blood.

Dean stood and surveyed his work, crossing his arms. Sam moved to stand beside him, a puzzled look on his features.

"You ever seen a symbol like that?" Sam inquired, eyes following the sharp corners of the z-like symbol.

"Never," Dean responded curtly.

"Me neither."

—

"He could at least be helping us, Sam," I grumbled, flipping through the worn pages of their father's journal. "Instead of off doing- whatever it is with that poor bartender."

Sam snickered. "He is helping. Meredith worked here, so the bartenders are bound to know her."

"There's a distinct difference between helping us with the case and flirting with some painted bimbo, who we all know he is never going to call," I muttered, resting my chin in the palm of my hand as my eyes lazily scanned the page.

Sam opened his mouth to retort and quickly shut it, seeing Dean make his way back over. My gaze moved quickly toward him and fell right back to the paper. Honestly, the journal was a hell of a lot more interesting than anything Dean had to say.

John was incredibly thorough – he rivaled my uncle, who had always been compulsive and meticulous about his case notes. The journal might look like a mess of pages and hastily scrawled notations, but to me, it showed his dedication.

I flipped another page slowly, tuning out the brothers' conversation. My finger dragged along each line of writing with my eye following closely behind. My eyes fell on a string of numbers and my finger stopped its movement. I exhaled shakily.

I knew those numbers.

"Hey, Sam!" Dean called out, a tight grip on his beer. "Where are you going?"

I lifted my head, staring with a glazed look after Sam as he marched away from the table. Dean turned his confused eyes on me before standing and following his brother.

I looked back at the page, my finger running haphazardly over the string of digits. Why would John have his number..? I tightened my jaw and marked the page so I could find it later and shut the little book, tucking it under my arm and following the brothers. My eyes widened as I noticed Sam talking to a blonde girl, giving her a tense hug. My ears tuned in to their conversation as I stalked up behind Dean.

"Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while," the girl said, fluttering her lashes at Sam. I took a deep breath, ready to interject, and coughed, gagging on air. God, this girl was drenched in perfume, it was blocking all of my other senses.

Dean cleared his throat and patted me lightly on the back. I brushed his hand away and took shallow breaths.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked.

"No, Massachusetts – Andover," the girl said with a giggle. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again." Although his back was turned to me, I could tell he was puzzled. It must have been written all over his features.

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong..." she trailed off and gazed up at Sam from under her lashes. I rolled my eyes. Dean cleared his throat and the girl's eyes snapped to his, a disgusted glare rising on her features. "Dude, cover your mouth."

Dean looked shocked and I suppressed a laugh, for fear of inhaling more of her sharp perfume. God, the girl must have bathed in the stuff. Did the boys really not smell it?

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean," Sam said, scratching the back of his head. The girl, Meg, looked surprised.

"Oh! This is Dean?" she confirmed. Sam nodded and Dean smirked at her.

"So you've heard of me," Dean mused, attempting to be smooth. Now it was Meg's turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, I've heard of you," she snapped. "Real nice, how you treat your brother like luggage." Dean’s eyes widened and I stared at Meg in shock. When did Sam even have time to meet this girl without Dean knowing? "Why don't you let him do what he wants?" she continued, spite lacing her words. "Quit dragging him all over God's green earth-"

Sam held up his hands in a silent plea to make her stop. "Meg, it's fine, really, we're fine." The three of them stood there awkwardly, Meg surveying the two, glaring at Dean with contempt and at Sam with an almost overprotective gaze. Her eyes skirted over me, likely because I hadn't been introduced.

I cleared my throat. "I'm, uh- I'm going to get a drink. You want to come with me, Dean?"

"Yeah- yeah," he said, already moving toward the bar. I flashed a sheepish grin toward Sam and Meg, waving goodbye and running to catch up with the elder Winchester. "Damn, that was awkward."

I sat on one of the bar stools, placing John's journal on the counter and running a finger over the spine. "So... when did she and Sam first meet."

Dean scoffed. "Probably after our first real hunt with you, in Kansas. He and I got into a spat and he left for a few days."

I glared at him, clenching my fist and resting it on the counter. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Well, we weren't exactly super close then. It was kind of a family matter, not something for you to stick your snout into."

"You are family, Dean," I hissed. "I have a right to know when these things happen."

He frowned and rested his hands on his lap. We sat in silence for a few minutes, long enough for Dean to get another beer from the bartender and have about a third of it.

"Listen, I-" he started. I cut him off, flipping open his father's journal to my marked page.

"Dean, I found something in the journal earlier, when you first came back to the table." He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something and shut it when I cast him a warning glare. Whatever he wanted to say, I really wasn't in the mood for it. He looked toward his lap bashfully and then his eyes rose to face mine, his jaw tightening.

"Anything relevant to the case?" he asked.

"No," I answered quickly. "But look at this," I slid the journal toward him, highlighting the phone number at the bottom of the page. His eyes flickered toward mine and he raised a brow in confusion. "I recognize this number, Dean. It's-"

"Hey!" called Sam, sauntering back toward us with his cell phone in hand. "You guys ready to head out."

Dean turned to face me, a promise being held in his green eyes. "We'll get back to this later." He stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and following Sam toward the door.

I groaned and dropped my head dramatically on the open journal. "Sure we will..." I muttered to myself. I stood, slamming the journal shut a little more roughly than I intended, and followed the brothers out the door.

"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange," I heard Sam say as I rushed to catch up with the brothers. "Like, maybe even a lead."

"What makes you say that?" Dean probed, sparing me a glance as I jogged up to him.

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

Oh. They were still talking about her.

"I don't know," Dean said with a dramatic sigh. "Random coincidence? It happens."

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong-"

"Dean," I interrupted Sam. "I think maybe Sam's right. There's something off about her. I mean, did you not smell the buckets of perfume on her? Had me gagging within ten feet of her."

"Perfume doesn't make someone a murder suspect," Dean countered.

"It does if it causes me to choke and die."

"Well, then it's a good thing you're not dead, right?"

"-I'm just saying that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on," Sam added to his unfinished sentence.

"I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" he chuckled and nudged Sam with his shoulder. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes as we stopped on the side of the road, waiting for the go-ahead to walk. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor." Sam marched away from Dean and I before his brother could protest.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked as he ran to catch up.

"I'm going to watch Meg."

Dean laughed and clapped Sam on the back. "Yeah, you are!"

Sam grimaced and shrugged Dean's hand off his shoulder. "I just want to see what's what. Better safe than sorry."

The two bickered, Dean teasing Sam, and Sam arguing. I stopped on the sidewalk, watching the brothers make their way toward the Impala, Sam fishing the keys out of his pocket.

I glanced down at the heavy, leather-bound journal in my hands. Something about this case didn't add up. First the weird symbol, and now Meg showing up? Something was wrong, I could feel it. She was hiding something.

Dean called my name from his spot beside the passenger door and I perked up immediately. "You coming or not?"

I nodded and shoved the journal under my arm and crossed the street to where the boys were waiting.

[stellaistryingtowrite]

working late

Friday overtime has burnt out all your strength and energy. How could Akai possibly light it up?

shuichi akai x reader

cw: no cw, reader's is referred as a Miss, no physical description but reader is a FULL-GROWN WOMAN with a FULL TIME JOB. no angst, yes comfort. lots of kisses.

authors note: as much as i hate to admit it, likes and reblogs DO matter. i didn't expect my boyfriend!akai headcanons to receive 26 likes, i thought i'd get 3—maybe 6 at most. no hard feelings, detco isn't very popular. but i got 26 likes and i thought "wow there are other people who are starving for this content just as much as i do" so i decided to quickly write another one as a thanks. i hope you enjoyed this!

You tilted your head to your left and right—hearing a loud crack with each turns. Releasing a heavy sigh, you leaned back against your chair and blearily stared at the bright screen of your computer.

Working as a tech support wasn’t easy. It paid slightly higher than the average wage, but it left you with no work-life balance.

The client you were assigned to were having a major issue with the system and had to be solved immediately, leaving you at work until way past your work hour.

Your eyes darted towards the corner of your laptop screen.

20.26.

Unconsciously, you took another deep sigh and rubbed your eyes hard. Not wanting to irritate your eyes any further, your hands raised up high towards the ceiling as your arched your back and stretched your body with a loud groan.

Once you were satisfied, you threw your body back against the chair.

Fuck, you cursed inwardly. I need a fucking break.

A beat passed as you sat there in the room, alone in the darkness and trying to collect some strength to pack up and went home.

Massage would be nice, you hummed to yourself. And a long nap. Ten hours of sleep, at least.

A loud grumble of your stomach interrupted your train of thoughts. Reminded of your initial plan, you rubbed your face and groaned in annoyance.

Every Friday, after work, Akai and you would go out for dinner. He would pick you up and the two of you would have dinner in a nice restaurant. You were worried your boyfriend would mind the traffic jam and tire himself out, but he assured you with a quick peck of your head.

“You know I’d never mind spending my time in my car with you,” he assured as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

His words and action softened your heart, and it quickly became a tradition with the two of you.

Earlier, you had texted him and apologizing profusely that you’d be staying much longer than you had intended to, before telling him to eat his dinner and don’t wait up for you.

With the issue at hand, you didn’t have a lot of chance to read his text, but you remembered how your screen had lit up earlier with a notification from him.

[akai ❤️ — 17.14]

Don’t worry about me. 👍🏼

You shot up and smacked the laptop shut, not even bothering to put it on Sleep mode or even shut it down like you’d usually do on Friday. After quickly shoving your things inside your bag, you grabbed your phone and left your desk.

While walking towards the elevator, you did a quick scroll of your phone’s notification.

[akai ❤️ — 17.14]

Don’t worry about me. 👍🏼

Just let me know when you’re done.

[akai ❤️ — 19.43]

Are you finished? It’s getting late, I’m worried about your gastritis.

[akai ❤️ — 20.05]

Remember about your health.

Your heart ached at his sweetness, but a frown began to form in your expression.

Did he eat? Had he arrived before you got to cancel your plans with him? What did he eat?

Questions ran through your head as you press the elevator button and wait for it to arrive.

You were about to type in your reply when your phone rang.

His name with a red heart emoji next to it (you thought it’d be funny. Red. Akai. Your boyfriend didn’t laugh, but you could’ve sworn you saw a quirk of his lips.) flashed on your screen. Without hesitating, you quickly press the green button.

“Hey,” you greeted him softly.

“Hi baby,” he returned. You leaned on the wall by the elevator door in pretense of exhaustion, but it was his nickname for you that made you weak at the knees. “Are you still working?”

“No,” you hummed as you stared at the sign above the elevator door. 5 more floors. “I’m waiting for the elevator now.”

From the phone, you heard some shuffling noises. “That’s good,” he answered. “I’ll pick you up.”

2 more floors. You frowned. “Akai, it’s alright. You don’t have to pick me up,” you assured. “I’ll eat something before I get home, so don’t worry about me and make sure to eat your dinner.”

“I’m at the parking lot.”

The doors of the elevator opened right as he uttered those words.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you walked into the elevator. Two other people were inside, but you and them couldn’t care less of each other. None of them had stared at your shocked expression—their blank eyes stared into the distance as they wait to arrive at the ground floor.

You’d be like that too, if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s statement.

“What parking lot?” you interrogated him as the elevator began its descent. “Like, our building parking lot? What were you doing there? Did you even have dinner?”

He didn’t answer and your frown grew even deeper. You put your phone away from your ear to see why he wasn’t answering.

The upper right corner of your phone answered your answer.

No signal.

You sighed resignedly and waited for the elevator to arrive at the ground floor—not even bothering to pocket your phone.

A few seconds later, the elevator stopped its descent and the door parted open.

Brushing past the two strangers, you rushed out and quickly phoned him again.

The phone rang while you tapped your card on the automatic access gate.

It rang again as you walked out towards the open-space lobby, surrounded by glass as walls.

It rang once again when you froze at the sight in front of you.

Shuichi Akai, leaning against his car in front of the lobby.

His gaze was trained on you as he smiled and waved as soon as you spotted him. One hand held the phone against his ear.

Dumfoundedly, you raised your phone to your ear.

Across the glass, he mouthed the words.

“Wanna have dinner?”

But you heard his voice through your phone.

Realization fell upon you that he was there, he was really there. Waiting in front of you on the lobby.

Without waiting any further, you ran outside. The cold evening air greeted you, but it was quickly replaced with his warmth as you crashed yourself towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

The warmth spread across your body as he embraced you in return, one arm across your shoulder and the other gently caressing your hair.

“Long day?” he teasingly asked with a short kiss to the crown of your head. Warmth spread across your cheeks. You didn’t even realize you had leaned on him and slagged your body—his arm was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Long week,” you whined against his chest.

He rubbed his hand on your upper shoulder in an attempt to lift up your spirits. “Come on, you must be hungry.”

His invitation reminded you of your initial worry. Your head shot up from his chest, but you kept your chin tucked against it—not wanting to be away from him for long.

“Did you remember to have dinner?” You gasped.

Akai hummed as he nodded his head.

“How long were you waiting for me?”

You finally leaned back so you could properly interrogate the man in front of you. Instantly, the cold air wrapped itself around your body and you found yourself missing his warmth.

“Not for long,” he assured.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at him in suspicion.

“Were you waiting for me?” you pouted.

Akai didn’t reply—for he knew that you’d be upset with his answer. His lips quirked up to an all-knowing smile in respond.

It was adorable and infuriating how you insisted for him to eat his dinner on time yet abandoning your own meal. Akai knew that you wouldn’t have anything to eat in your office, unlike him that had a pork bun and grilled chicken thigh in nearby FamiMa.

Your frown grew even deeper and Akai held himself back from chuckling and your pouting lips.

He took one step forward from leaning against his car and closed the distance between the two of you. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he kissed your forehead—but unlike the quick peck earlier, he let it rest as he tried to remove your backpack on your shoulder. He remembered your work laptop and how it weighed down on your shoulders and how you’d tilt your head from the left to the right in an attempt to ease the ache.

Once he has your backpack slung across his shoulder, he lifted his lips from your head to answer your question.

Akai kept his arm wrapped towards your shoulder—mindful that he didn’t rest it there, knowing your shoulder pains—as he gently led you around his car, towards the passenger seat.

“When you texted me,” he began. “I was waiting for you in the lobby. I thought it’d be a waste to go back and come pick you up again. So I parked my car outside and had a quick snack at the Family Mart.”

He pinched your chin in adoration. “And I think Little Miss ‘Skipping-dinner-for-work’ shouldn’t nag me too much about eating my dinner late.”

Akai tapped your nose gently after scolding you.

You pouted and relented because you knew he was right.

The gentleman he was, Shuichi Akai opened the door to his passenger seat and waited for you to sit down. Once he knew you were comfortable, he grabbed your seat belt and leaned across your body to put it on.

You couldn’t resist the small space and quickly kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” you softly mumbled. It had been a long week and you knew you were ready to drop dead as soon as you got home, but Akai picking you up and waiting for you for more than two hours gave you the comfort you needed.

As soon as you heard the seat belt clicked, Akai grabbed your chin and kissed you on your lips.

You held his face with both of your arms as you returned it—just as passionately, if not more.

It was short-lasting. He quickly pulled away and kissed the tip of your nose—but he couldn’t resist himself to pinch your chin once more before closing the door.

You giggled at his affection. It was nice to know that you were loved, even when you were tired down to your bones.

The door behind you opened and quickly shut—a sign that he was putting your backpack behind you. Your head turned to watch your man (my Akai. mine mine mine.) through the window as he walked around his car and eventually open the driver seat.

Your gaze never moved from him as he sat on his seat and started the car. As soon as the engine rumbled, he straightened up and shifted the gear.

Your smile only grew when he turned his head towards yours with his ghost smile that you liked so much.

It was thin across his lips, and the corner of his eyes barely crinkled. But his gaze were warm and kind and it fills your with all sorts of love that you never realized you could experience from a simple action of picking you up from work.

“Ready to leave?”

-END-

Dictionary FamiMa → Family Mart. Minimarket chain that’s very popular in Japan, very similar to Seven-Eleven. You can buy food and ask for them to be warmed up and they have small sitting areas for you to have your snacks.

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

Hi, I'd like to build a planet with land across the entire planet that is mostly an alpine. I'm thinking that the majority of the land will be tall mountains with almost all shorelines being tall cliffs so even areas close to the ocean can quickly become tall mointains. Places near the equator will have the highest mountains to offset being closer to the sun. How about resources though? What would be abundant, what puld lack? How about other geographical features and conditions that allow a planet to look like this?

Tex: What happens when the tectonic plates meet? Mountains are created via only one type of plate movement (Wikipedia), but due to physics the opposite side of that plate would create the opposite result (Wikipedia). In order to dissipate the forces caused by a plate causing convergent and divergent boundaries, the horizontal movements of a transformation fault would develop (Wikipedia).

Resources can be boiled down to approximately two things: what grows in water, and what grows in soil. For the former, oceans, seas, lakes, and related areas would need to exist and be large enough to develop life of higher trophic levels. For the latter, it would need enough erosion of rocks to create soil, and be propagated by bacteria to facilitate a healthy environment to propagate photosynthetic life and the upper trophic levels that rely on it. (Birds exist, but also birds must roost, so for all intents and purposes they rely on what grows in soil.)

Anything that has above-water places high enough to create what we would subjectively perceive as mountains would have to be an extremely geologically-active planet, where the plates are constantly moving. This would mean things like lots of volcanoes, and likely an atmosphere saturated in gases like sulfur. Extremophiles can grow in these conditions, but because of energy conservation in a geologically-hostile environment, they’re not likely to grow very big.

If you wish for something different, it might be a “dead” planet, in which there’s little geological activity and the state of things like mountain ranges and placement of oceans are effectively locked into place. This would mean an inert core, and possibly a dying planet or else one in a solar system where it’s faced with a dying sun or outside the goldilocks zone of a reasonably active sun.

Addy: So, resources. That's my jam. If you've got a heavily alpine area, you're generally on mountains or mountain slopes, which generally means you're going to be on a whole bunch of rock. That rock could be sedimentary or metamorphic (igneous is also possible, basalt mountains do exist), but it's still rock. Things that rely on heavy amounts of soil - sand, clay, loam, otherwise - will struggle to form into industries.

You might have 3-4 feet of soil ("soil" includes sections that are mostly gravel – if you're looking for dirt, probably only a foot or two). Looking at a couple examples, I'd say you're probably going to get sandy loam, loamy sand, and gravelly loam. Great drainage, not good for food crops. Since you're alpine, that's going to mean you're above the tree line, so timber is going to be scarce as well. Neutral pH to somewhat alkaline, if that matters to ya. Also, above the tree line, the winds get to be very, very harsh - harsh enough that most plants can't survive up there, so crops are doubly not an option.

If you've got a freeze-thaw cycle, then the ground is going to sprout rocks every year in the spring (literally, the freeze-thaw cycle pushes rocks up towards the surface from under the ground, so you get new rocks in your fields every spring as it starts to thaw), so stone for walls and homes will be plentiful. Insulation will likely come from packed earth (e.g. Icelandic turf homes) or animal hides (e.g. yurts). Without good soil for growing, you're going to likely see a lot of animal husbandry - yaks, goats, oxen, and sheep. Maybe small horses, but no large horses; large, Western horse breeds don't do well if they're only grazing - they generally have feed grown for them. Draft horses are large enough that they have to have food grown for them. But ponies are an option.

Your sand will likely be difficult to get separated from the loam/gravel, so glass will be a tricky industry. Clay will be hard to find, so pottery is limited. Also limiting those industries is a lack of easily available fuel - without timber or peat, you've got limited options on what you have available to burn.

If, by alpine, you're also talking about mountain slopes (and maybe valleys?), then you'll have lots of timber. Lots and lots and lots of timber, so long as you don't clear-cut. Berries will be plentiful in the spring and fall, you'll generally have a decent supply of water, you can grow crops if you're careful about your growing seasons (and the ground acts as a refrigerator, so root cellars and similar structures act as a way to preserve food through the winter months), and you've got wild game to supplement. 

Animal husbandry is still an option, though you'll almost certainly need to grow feed to keep them fed over the winter. Goats would do better than sheep, I think, but birds (chickens, ducks, partridge, geese) would probably be the easiest animal to raise. With birds, you'll also get down, which will help for quilts and bedding to keep yourself warm at night. Sheep/goats will get you wool, which will be good for clothing to keep warm. If you've got different animals, whatever birds/mammals they've got nearby that can fill the niche.

For fuel, you've got wood and charcoal. Charcoal is made from wood, and it burns hotter and cleaner than wood. Good for large kitchens… or for kilns. Or for metalworking. Or for writing/art. Wood is easier to get, and more suitable to everyday use.

Valleys tend to accumulate clay, gravel, or sand, depending on how fast the water flows. Steep slopes mean fast water, so you'll mostly get gravel. Mild slopes mean slow water, so you'll get a lot of clay (such as many river deltas, where they meet the ocean). Moderate slopes mean medium-speed water, so you'll get sand (or sand with gravel). River sand may not get you high-quality glass, but you can still make basic glass out of it. When the rivers freeze in the winter, you'll have lots of ice. That can be stored underground in ice houses, so that you have ice year-round.

For lime/quicklime, you'll need shells (so beach) or limestone (so depends on mountains type). Lime is used for a variety of things - making mortar for bricks, removing impurities when making iron, making concrete, etc - but you need limestone (or shells, like oyster shells) and fuel to make it. So that really depends on the type of stone the mountains are made of.

Salt may or may not be plentiful, depending on what the mountains are made of. You've got very little ocean access (since cliffs), so drying out seawater for salt isn't going to be effective for large-scale production.

Either way (with or without trees), trade will be difficult. Overland trade will have to deal with snow, ice, and uneven terrain (plus possible food issues for pack animals). Sea-based trade would have to deal with getting goods up or down those massive cliffs without damaging or dropping them..  and also getting people down there, too. Huge altitude changes.

Wootzel: If your main concern is having your planet chilly, you could look at Earth during the last ice age as inspiration. This would probably result in having a planet with a LOT of nigh-unlivable area near the poles, but it could be a way to make most of your land quite cold without having to rely as heavily on high altitudes, if that’s something you want to look into.

[fionajames]

prompts

A/N: Hello guys!!! I decided I'd send a list of various prompts for you guys to send me as requests. Absolutely anyone is free to use this! There are one word, dialogue, idea and song prompts!!!

One word prompts

hiraeth 

lost

catacombs

bloodhound

whisper 

broth

brine

froth

angel

wheat

camp

cry

shadow

bramble

herd

pack

wild

runaway

solstice

courage

tracks

woods

hike

firefly

quill

moon

sun

stars

spirit

song

splinter

clear

ice

sea

clouded

hum

jinx

limbo

wire

barbed

spear

sword

breath

holly

sink

drown

canine

willow

twine

whistle

Song prompts

not strong enough (boygenius)

meet me in the woods (lord huron)

cherry wine - live (hozier)

sweet tooth (cavetown)

1979 (smashing pumpkins)

bloodhound (the foxing)

rory (the foxing)

still feel (half alive)

best friend (rex orange country)

be nice to me (the front bottoms)

wires (the neighbourhood)

running with the wolves (AURORA)

the night we met (lord huron)

i’d rather be alone (boodahki)

cocaine jesus (rainbow kitten surprise)

romantic homicide (d4vd)

duvet (bôa)

breezeblocks (alt-J)

me and the devil (soap&skin)

heavydirtysoul (twenty one pilots)

father (the front bottoms)

waterfalls coming out of your mouth (glass animals)

genesis (grimes)

devil like me (rainbow kitten surprise)

rockstar (boywithuke)

bad habit (steve lacy)

my ordinary life (the living tombstone)

notorious (neoni)

nothings new (rio romeo)

lighthouse (the waifs)

step on me (the cardigans)

inside out (duster)

the man (taylor swift)

mind over matter (young giant)

rises the moon (liana flores)

sparks (coldplay)

mama’s boy (dominic fike)

way down we go (kaleo)

evergreen (richy mitch & the coal miners)

yorktown - the world turned upside down (original broadway cast of hamilton)

i love you so (the walters)

505 (arctic monkeys)

labour (paris paloma)

worldstar money - interlude (joji)

willow (taylor swift)

leave a light on (tom walker)

pretty boy (the neighbourhood)

lovers rock (tv girl)

the last great american dynasty (taylor swift)

you’re on your own kid (taylor swift)

ho hey (the lumineers)

stubborn love (the lumineers)

dear arkansas daughter (lady lamb)

watching him fade away (mac demarco)

o children (nick cave & the bad seeds)

Idea prompts

running through wheat fields

running through garden hose droplets

dancing in the rain

walking in the bush

splashing in the sea

horse riding

rolling down grass fields

trekking through forest

swimming in forest creeks

rock hopping

daisy chains and crowns

collecting wood for fire

bonfire at night

walking on abandoned highways and roads

lighthouse exploring 

cartwheeling and playing in fresh grass

morning dew and crisp morning air

dirt under your nails

tree climbing

abandoned towns

walking on train tracks

wooden boats

island exploring

baking in then morning quiet

watching movies very late at night

staying up late at sleepovers

corn mazes

wheat fields

frozen lakes

frozen forests

paper planes

jam jars

friendship bracelets

barbed wire fences

blood dripping on tiles

scratchy vinyl music

empty dark cold nights

canine teeth

fireflies in fields

camp cabins

sea shanties

sibling play fighting/rivalry (blood or not)

road trips with loud music

picnic dates in the forest

busy arcades

bookstore dates - the smell of old books

playing soft acoustic guitar in nature

playing fiddle and dancing around campfires

stargazing

laying in bed awake

Dialogue prompts 

“please kill me”

“i’m everything you can not control”

“i am the monster you created”

“am i that easy to forget?”

“i will never hesitate to put my life on the line for you”

“stars can not shine without darkness”

“i miss the old you”

“remember who you are”

“please don’t leave”

“listen here pal”

“how much is enough”

“i remember smiling the whole way home”

“i never told you i was falling in love”

“do you want to go wander around aimlessly?”

“you still feel like home”

“no matter what, you’re still my brother”

“i could never hate you”

“let me help”

“help me, please”

“we’re just kids”

“water is so exciting with straws”

“i can’t stop thinking about you”

“get in the blanket fort”

“when they smile, i forget how to breathe”

“platonic love is just as important”

“i’m homesick for a place i’m not sure is real”

“smile more, it looks beautiful on you”

“runaway with me” 

“dance with me?”

“come back to bed”

“your bleeding on my floor”

“stars sparkle in your eyes”

“sarcasm is a weapon”

“can we just go back?”

“i miss how it used to be”

“hold me”

“any closer to them and i’ll kill you”

“i’ll be by your side forever”

“are you ok?”

“it’s going to be okay”

“i’m going to cry, but happy tears”

“can i crash on your couch?”

“we’ve got more than two people crashing in our house”

“i belong with you”

“you’re my soulmate” 

“hold my hand, please?”

“they smile when you message them”

“i want to live”

“sing to me”

“we’re finally home”

A/N: @techs-goggles9902, @skellymom

[hecckyeah]

Hey! So, I know you probably haven't watched it yet, BUT: when you do, I must know your comprehensive thoughts on the latest Rookie episode!?!

ASK AND YOU WILL RECEIVE!!!

Okay, because I'm insane, I'm going to split this into two sections: not-chenford, and chenford.

SPOILERS FOR 6x02 UNDER THE CUT

First up, everything NOT-chenford-related:

Honestly they could have botched it, but it was SO FUN having Randy back for the wedding. "Sit down, German, I got this." i mean???? iconic. Also having him be literally in Pete's place and WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND? even more iconic. I'm a ride or die Randy fan, so all his scenes just made me unreasonably happy :)

it was understandably short, but I loved having Celina ride with Nyla, finally. It was kind of satisfying to see her get humbled in interrogation, because imo Nolan has been kind of lax with her training, letting her get away with things the other rookies would have been fired for. So it's nice that she'll spend some time away from him and with a *ahem* more experienced TO. hopefully. We'll see.

Ugh, my heart breaks for Aaron this season. Kid's traumatized for REAL. And his comment to Celina about not sharing things with the therapist because he wants to get back on patrol, not necessarily get better. That bothered me. I really hope they dig into that a lot. But I also hope nothing horrible happens because of it. He seemed so unstable, even when he wasn't drunk. I'm also very interested to see where this goes with his and Celina's friendship. Just a lot of good stuff that could be a really thoughtful and interesting story if handled right...

Aaaaand this episode confirms that I intensely dislike Bailey. Everything about her character is just trying too hard, like the writers were so tired of having Nolan date and break up a few times, they were like okay fine this one can stay, and even though they have chemistry readings in the negatives, they keep trying to push it even though it feels so wrong. I'd rather have Nolan be single the rest of the show than be in this stale cardboard relationship. But it's fine, they're not going to split them up now, so I'll have to deal with it lol

The whole thing with Oscar suing was SO rushed. Like, so insanely rushed I couldn't even be annoyed at him. I hope they bring him back and do it for real, because that was weird to kind of shoehorn in there just for dramatic effect.

EPIC COP TEAMUP IN SUITS AND TIES MY BELOVEDDDD. Seriously they all looked SO GOOD chasing down bad guys and beating people up. White dress shirts were truly the MVPs of this episode

Will Celina just. be wearing long sleeves the rest of her life? Seriously how long has she been a rookie already?? Most of Angela's pregnancy and maternity leave, so at least 10 months, if not more. Hell, she should be graduating from the program soon. The timeline in this show is absolute trash.

Speaking of-- Baby Wopez name drop when????? poor girl's been nameless for too long

James coming in clutch with the playlist was chef's kiss. I LOVE that man

ALSO JAMES AND WESLEY'S BROMANCE. "I went with a suit." "Me too. Mine has a tie." "Oh my god, same!" I CAN'T WITH THESE TWO. Probably my favorite bromance of anyone ever.

Finally, just in general-- I know some people were put off by how much stuff was jam-packed into 42 minutes (again. how???) but I think they pulled it off reasonably well. There was actually very good pacing, lots of comedy and angst and everything in between. I personally LOVED this episode and I think it deserves a few rewatches just to pick up on everything they threw at us. It has its flaws, but it will definitely be a 100th episode to remember, that's for sure.

AND NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR.

Chenford thoughts :))))))

But first let me just get this out of the way real quick-- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHLSKDJFOAHGOIJWE;LKTH;SKLJD;LFKHAGLJKSDFA;HLGKJLSKJDKFJDKJFKDJFKJDKFJDKFJKD OH MY GOSHHHHHHHHHHHA;LKGHSJNBMNMCC HELP KJAEHKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG IM HYPERVENTILATING AHGHGHAHSHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

okay, anyway.

Here we go!

I'm just a little bit torn on how they decided to approach this. On the one hand, it was nice that they were still able to work together and talk without excessive drama. Although... Tim shutting the door on her did hurt. Yeah. That hurt a lot. But I had really hoped that they would acknowledge that Lucy was in the wrong last episode too. She was being completely unreasonable and like Tim said, she was projecting. But in this ep, it seemed like she was validated and he was the one being unreasonable. While his trauma with Isabel is something they desperately need to talk about (like Lucy said), she was also reacting too harshly to it and being unfair with her accusations. But honestly, it's okay. We still have 8 episodes to sort it out and it seems like they're very much on the right track. I'm hoping they have a really really really intense, tearful, honest, raw, cathartic conversation about the whole thing. Seems like that's the direction they're going, so I won't hold my breath but it is something that needs to happen.

ALL OF THEIR INTERACTIONS were just so. hnnggg. so chewy. so much going on. THE LOOKS DURING THE WEDDING. hang on I'll come back to that in a sec.

The scene with the Hammer was NEXT LEVEL. (Also fun that they named the episode after That Scene, specifically. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.........) For some reason I immensely enjoyed watching Tim get thrown around like a rag doll. Not sure what that's about. Never seen that side of myself before.

THE FORESHADOWING. That on-one-knee thing was more than I thought they'd give us, and OMG I ATE IT UP. The little pause, where Lucy's breath kind of catches, and Tim just seems kind of oblivious. THAT'S CINEMA, BABEY.

Kind of insane about Tim just passing out like that. Poor man.

CELINA MENTIONING LUCY'S BACHELORETTE PARTY????? hello even more foreshadowing :))))

The scene cuts back and forth when Lucy is helping with the cake and Tim with the flowers??? THEY'RE TELEPATHIC SOULMATES DON'T TALK TO ME.

And the fact that the lie detector was RANDY'S IDEA? I'm shrieking. "Ein wenig crazy," is definitely something my adhd bilingual ass has said irl

oh my lord how CLOSE she scoots her chair?? i'm melting

I thought it was kind of a nice touch to have Tim be actually surprised by the lie detector picking up his answer to the last question being a lie. Because honestly.... now it makes a little more sense: he's been lying to himself. Which is kind of an angle I didn't see coming. "I guess we do have a problem," sounds to me like he literally hasn't been able to admit to himself that he doesn't want Lucy undercover. Of course he wants her to make detective, that's not a question. Detective doesn't equal undercover. But he's been telling himself probably since day one that he's fine with it, that she's not Isabel, that he has nothing to worry about . . . and now he's finally seeing that he really is terrified. Something she's seen in him all along. And while their argument last episode was about more than just this (I still believe she was in the wrong for projecting so hard and making crazy assumptions about him), I think I can see where the writers were going with it.

THE I LOVE YOUS D E S T R O Y E D ME

Okay, back to the Looks at the wedding. Tim being all 🧍and scanning the crowd for his girl . . . Lucy delivering the Heart Eyes of the century . . . Them still sitting together because even though they're fighting, they're still each other's person, and nothing can change that . . . I'm going into cardiac arrest.

In my book, "We're gonna get through this" is a nice breath of fresh air and a bit of relief, but it doesn't mean they've worked everything out. Again, they need a good solid conversation. One that this episode was never going to give us, sadly. But it'll come!

ALSOOOO that moment when Aaron interrupts them and we see Tim's hand around her waist, I just OOF i need a moment

I AM NEVER GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS EPISODE. the foreshadowing, the parallels, the pining, the dancing, the fighting, the emotions, EVERYTHING. It was not perfect but it was WONDERFUL. 10000/10, I need to watch all their scenes about five million more times.

AND THERE WE HAVE IT. I'll definitely be posting more thoughts soon, but that's where I'm at for now. Basically I think they set the groundwork for a really solid, healthy relationship going forward. I LOVED their moments in this ep, absolutely top tier. The ANGST. I am eating up every second of it.

2 episodes down, 8 to go!!!

[shallyne]

The diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 11

Epilogue

EPILOGUE!!! YAY? YAY! Full fic on AO3

Words: 805

The door was jammed again. Another thing I had to put on my ever growing list of things to do, or tell Rhys to do. I wriggled the key in the lock and pressed against the stubborn door until it finally opened, and all that without spilling a drop of my decaffeinated coffee.

It has been a quiet morning, I just came from brunch with Mor which went from our originally planned hour to two hours, talking the whole time after I told her the news. I just hoped Rhys wouldn't mind, we wanted to tell her together but the time just felt so right, I had blurted it out.

“Rhys?” I called out as I walked down the hallway of our apartment, past the portrait of us I made after our wedding. It was eerily silent. Maybe he was out with Cassian and Azriel but he told me this morning that he planned to stay home to pack up a few things in his office. I stepped over a box when I saw that the door of our storage room was ajar. On silent feet I stepped closer and opened the door, finding my husband sitting between mountains of boxes, reading a book, his back to the door. I snuck closer, looking over his shoulder to see a familiar handwriting. “You're reading my old diaries?”

He snapped the book shut before I even finished my sentence, looking up at me with a smile as he put the notebook down on two others that I had written inside years ago. “The best sex you've ever had, huh?”

I rolled my eyes and put down my coffee on the nearest box. “I should have burned these things long ago. There's incriminating evidence inside that could get me into jail.”

“Us both, but it won't.” he said and when he met my eyes, something in his own softened. Rhys took my hand and pulled me into his lap. “I'm sorry I've read through them. I needed a box and I've been rummaging through everything and found your diaries. I should have put them back.”

I smiled, “It's okay, this is the past.” I gestured to the diaries. “This has been years ago. Although, if you are really sorry, I know a few ways that you could make it up.”

Rhys's lips twisted into a smirk at my suggestion and I stretched up to kiss the corner of his lips. “This might be slightly off-topic but I've been thinking.”

“Oh?” Rhys asked, brushing a thumb over my chin.

“Yes,” I replied and took his hand, “I've been thinking that now is maybe a good time to start a diary again.” our hands rested atop my stomach where there was only yet a tiny bump showing. It was easily covered with baggy clothing at this point, which I did until the whole family was told the big news of my pregnancy. “Maybe he, or she, can read it when they are older.” I always said he for some reason, I am so sure it would be a boy.

“That's a great idea.” Rhys kissed forehead, “Maybe I should add some things from my perspective. If you'd like that.”

“I'd love that!” I said, flinging my arms around him with a sigh. “I'm so excited to start this chapter of our life. I'm so excited for the little one.”

Rhys answered with a breathtaking smile of his own, his eyes shining brightly as he looked at me. There wasn't a day in our life that he didn't make sure that I felt safe and loved. I hope I make him feel the same way, at least I am trying everyday.

The vibrating of my phone interrupted our moment. With an apologizing look I leaned back, “This must be Ressina. We are meeting at the gallery at one to work out the work schedule for next month.” I explained. “I was hoping I could pack up some things for the move but brunch with Mor took longer than planned.” I grimaced as I remembered, “By the way, I might have already told her.”

Rhys snorted, “I'm not surprised.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That means,” he flicked my nose, “You have a loose mouth around my cousin.”

“Well, she's my best friend.” I told him and pushed him away playfully, standing up. “Also, can we get Sevanda’s tonight?”

“Sure! “ Rhys replied without taking a moment to think about it. “And Feyre?”

“Yes?”

“Don't stress yourself while at the gallery, I'll take care of packing. You don't lift a finger.”

“But–”

“No buts, I manage the moving and you take care growing the little one. Alright?”

“Alright.” I laughed, grabbing my coffee.

Rhys stood up too, “I love you, Feyre darling.”

I kissed him, “I love you, too, you mother hen.”

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[aller-geez]

I just saw the post with Remi coming into the hotel room asking for tissues and it was so cute to imagine him doing that! However, I'm curious, how would Remi react to y/n coming up to them and asking that or y/n being sick. How would he take care of them? I'd imagine it would be so cute!

It's okay if you don't get a chance to respond, it's just a curious question I've had for awhile!

~Anon

(I hope you're having a lovely day. Keep going strong)

Hey there Anon! Thanks so much for your super kind words 🥺🥺!

As much as I’d like to pretend my wolf boy would be attentive and catering, I wrote a 2.6k word minific to give you an idea of how that might play out…

Remi and sick Female Reader (however it’s pretty gender neutral, no mention of gender)! 🖤

Don’t Mention It..

Written by allergeez, @thekinkyleopard owns Levi 🖤

POV:

You’re on a trip with the group, and you just got to the hotel. You’re sitting in your room, unpacking a little of your suitcase, feeling increasingly crappy. When you guys had finally got to the hotel, it was nearly one am, and the cold that had been plaguing you the entire drive up had only increased. You sniffle wetly, dragging the back of your hand across the fabric of your sweater sleeve, leaving a gleaming trail among other, similar dark marks. Why had you agreed to let Draeko drag you on this trip again? You barely know anyone, and now you have this absolutely horrible head cold that waited until the long drive up to even think of rearing its ugly head.

You sigh with irritation at your own choices, deciding to abandon your unpacking efforts and start a new quest to find the backpack you brought along with the single travel sized pouch of tissues you clutched tightly into your palm while in the bus, trying your best to quietly sniffle back the ever present congestion filling up behind your eyes.

Grabbing your bag from the floor where it was lazily tossed coming in, you quickly unzip the zipper on the front and plunge a hand desperately into the small pocket. As your fingers slide past the plastic of the packaging, you fish them out and snatch one from the pouch, immediately crushing it to your streaming nose.

“huh’TSCHHhieww! H'utsschhiew!” You sneeze harshly into the thin paper, soaking through the material instantly. With a very congested and irritated grumble, you go to reach for another to blow your full nose, but quickly discover the one you just destroyed was the last in the pack.

“Great, of course I run out when Drae still has my wallet.. can’t even go to the shop in the lobby for more..” you grumble hoarsely, cursing yourself inwardly for your absolutely amazing timing.

Maybe someone from the group is still awake and could loan you some? You don’t know any of the other 11 people that arrived at the hotel with you very well, since you only met Draeko recently, but you got to know at least the surface level stuff while trapped on the bus for so many hours with the chatty group. It was worth a shot at least..

Slowly, you make it to the door of your room and turn the handle, the mechanism clicking quietly while you pull it open and peer down the hallway, a liquidy sniffle filling the otherwise pretty silent space. The other five rooms down the hall that you had seen each couple (some even had three people!) disappear into over an hour ago stared back at you ominously and you gulp back your nervousness to finally emerge from your room, taking a second to pat your pocket to make sure you had your room key before shutting the door behind you.

You trudge down the hall a little ways, stopping in front of the closest door to your own. The lack of light coming from under the door discourages you from knocking, and you instead decide to walk down to the next door.

This time, there’s a very small amount of light sneaking through the door jam, and you silently cheer to yourself. At least this one seemed to have life! It’s the room you had seen Draeko and his two tall, grey skinned friends had been given. As you lift your fist to the metal door, about to knock, a loud moan from one could only assume was Draeko followed by another gruff, voice barking explicit orders. A third voice that was extremely monotonous quickly joined in, trailed by even more lust filled moans and your cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink, embarrassed to have heard such a.. private? moment.

Dragging a sleeve over your streaming nose, you begin to give up hope and just trudge sadly back to your room, until two sharp, desperate sounding sneezes echoed through the quiet hallway. Stopping on your heels, you stand there silently to listen for a second.

Surely that person must have extra tissues with sneezes sounding like that?

After a second, another two sneezes boomed from the second to last door to the end. “hEhTXSSHhh’ih! Hd’IZTSsHHhhh’ih!”

Suddenly, your eyes widen with realization that you had seen Remi and Levi, the ones who drove your group to their hotel, disappear into that room.. Levi seemed like a really easy going guy who wouldn’t think twice about a stranger asking for tissues, but Remi… You recognized the deep, throaty sneezes from the bus as well, and they definitely weren’t from Levi..

You gulp back more nervousness through your dry, itchy throat, and clench your fists. What’s the worst the guy could do? Couldn’t hurt to ask, anyway.

With a determined grunt you make your way down the hallway and stop in front of door, lifting your fist to the metal and knocking loudly before your body even had time to chicken out.

The soft chatter behind the door quickly stopped, and you stand there for a second in awkward silence before the door is slowly peeled open. In the doorway stood the large, intimidating man who towered over you, his toxic green irises dimly lit against bloodshot eyes. He raised an eyebrow with a confused expression, before an unproductive snuffle from the wolf broke the silence. You take a second to look him over, and note that his tanned skin was glistening with sweat in the yellow light of the hotel room, his nose burning a bright red in the center of his face.

He snuffles again, this time somehow you can hear the irritation behind it, and his expression slowly began to get less friendly, if that was even possible. “Uh… Did you need something?” Remi’s deep voice sent chills down your spine from anxiety, although you match his congested sniffle after a few moments.

“Yeah uh.. I was just wondering if you guys happen to have some extra tissues? I ran out and Draeko has my wallet and I’m kind of desperate..” You try to chuckle to ease the awkward tension, but the wolf’s annoyed expression never faltered as he stared back at you.

“…Who even are you?” Remi grumbled, seemingly leaning against the door frame to steady himself as he spoke.

“Oh, uh, I’m Y/N.. Draeko invited me..” You peep back, feeling smaller and smaller the longer you stood talking to the large man.

Remi scoffed openly, shaking his head with an irritated sigh. “Good for nothing fucking mutt inviting people without even asking…” He growled loudly, and you honestly just wanted to run away.

“Nah, we’re out too. Sorry.” The wolf barked after a second of silence, and hurriedly began to close the metal door in your face.

Suddenly, the door stopped, and a thin freckled hand appeared on Remi’s forearm before it swung open again.

Now, Levi stood next to the grumpy wolf with his arms crossed, a playful smile on his face as he looked at Remi. “Sorry, I was totally eaves dropping but..” the leopard chuckles offhandedly before directing his attention back to his mate who seemed deflated, like he already knew what was to come.

“Remiiiii.. don’t be lazy, you know you need more tissues. Just go down to the store in the lobby with her and get more plus some NyQuil cause if you start kickboxing me in your sleep again tonight I’m going to kill you..” the smile on his face was sweet, but still somehow almost scary.

The wolf sighed dramatically, tossing his head back. “Come on, I’ll get more in the morning, Pesi.. She has toilet paper in her room, too! Why do I have to be a chaperone?” Remi snorted with annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest like a child, although a sharp coughing fit made his protests futile.

Levi disappeared back into the hotel room for a brief second, returning with his card and stuffing it into his mates clammy hands. “No buts~ hurry back!” He chirped before turning to you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry about him; I’d like to say he’s not always like this, but what can you do? don’t let him bully you, though~ Make sure he gets you your own box and you can just pay me back later, Kay?” The leopard smiled brightly and it made you feel somewhat better about the situation. You try to remain positive about your decision to even venture out to find tissues, but now was the difficult part..

Not even bothering to put shoes on his bare feet, Remi’s muscular frame finally emerged from the room with a less than enthusiastic expression, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket. With an eye roll thrown to Levi before the room door was shut, Remi grunted towards you to get you to follow him although he never actually stopped to wait as you squeak in agreement and scramble to keep up with the wolf’s long strides.

The sudden fast walking began to make your packed nose unclog, but that only caused you to have to scrub at the new intense tickle that began to bloom in your swollen sinuses. Desperately you try to scrub away the intense buzzing in your nose, but it was no use. You pitch forward with your hands cupped firmly over your nose and mouth.

“—hah’ESHHh‘uh!!” The sneeze tore from your throat painfully, and the sudden outburst made Remi visibly jump a good foot from the ground as he was walking. He whipped his head around, and upon the realization that the jarring sound had come from you, his eyebrows furrowed angrily on his forehead, his gaze returning to directly in front of him. You could see him shake his head with a single exhale of a scoff.

Annoyed with the childishness of the large canine by this point, you shout at him down the hall although your scratchy voice makes it somewhat less intimidating than you meant it. “Hey! It’s customary to say ‘Bless you’ when someone sneezes!”

The smug wolf was silent for a moment, his trademark smirk plastered onto his face, before a single hand raised and he waves you off. “Nah, I don’t really do that.” He dismissed the statement simply, continuing his impossibly long stride until he reached the stairs that lead down to the lobby.

You sigh loudly, crossing your arms over your chest with a grunt. ‘What an asshole? No wonder Draeko only warned me about him specifically..‘ You think to yourself, snuffling wetly against your sweater sleeve that was beyond damp at this point.

Thankfully at the bottom of the staircase sat the small convenience shop that would be your relief. Thank god.

You step down off the last step, mentally preparing yourself for the eventual battle you were going to have trying to get Remi to get you tissues, too, before your attention is pulled away by the canine in question, who was already in the otherwise empty store, standing in front of the small medication selection they had.

His usual slightly furrowed eyebrows now were laced together at the highest point on his face, and his eyes had a slightly glazed over, far off look in them. His eyelids fell almost completely closed, although they fluttered across his damp cheeks after a moment, the scowl on his face slowly dissolving as his jaw fell open slightly.

Suddenly, the angry raven haired man pitched to the side with his face buried fully into his elbow.

“Hh'IISHH! —hd’ISCHhh!! —h’dtTISHh! hhh’ISCHih! hh'IETSH’UE!” Remi sneezed helplessly off to the side, his already pink tinged cheeks only deepening in redness as the single cashier eyed him wearily. With a loud, wet sniffle, he swiped at his nose with his own sleeve before noticing your attention on him as well.

The wolf scowled before completely avoiding eye contact with you, actually turning his body to face the shelves opposite from you to comb through the various medications. The sooner you got what you needed, the sooner you could escape him, too.

You take your time to make your way into the shop, almost intentionally as you could feel Remi’s antsiness to return to his own room, as well. If he was going to be a dick the whole time, at least maybe he’d think twice next time if it was the longest tissue run he’d ever been on!

As you finally join Remi inside the shop, fully prepared to throw hands with this 6’4 man if he tried to get out of getting you the tissues you desperately need, you’re a little surprised to see the ornery male with his hands full. Silently, the wolf put everything down on the counter in front of the cashier who peered over his glasses at him like he was a wild animal. Among the pile there was a plethora of cold medicines, a few boxes of tissues, cough drops, Vic’s, water bottles, Y’know, the whole Shabang.

Confused, you stop in your tracks, watching Remi to see what his angle was..

Almost too easily, the canine stood there waiting silently, his glowing green eyes darting from place to place as he waited; Anything but making eye contact. The cashier told the man his total, and he quickly produced the credit card that had been thrust into his hand by Levi, sniffling deeply against his wrist as he waited for the transaction to complete.

You tilt your head, still unable to read anything about Remi’s posture to fully grasp his motives. Was he about to try and take all of that? Surely he must not need THAT much stuff for a little cold..

After paying and handing Remi back his card, the cashier quickly and quietly pulled 2 bags off of his stack, and began to put one of each item into each of the bags until Remi was carrying two identical bags of items. With a small nod of appreciation towards the cashier and an extremely full bag in each hand, he begins to trudge back towards the door where you’re standing, although on the way out the door he plops one of the huge bags into your arms with an annoyed grunt.

The weight of the bag almost knocks the wind out of you but you wrap your fingers into the plastic handles quickly to avoid dropping anything. Over kill, much? Jesus..

“Oh.. hey, thank you! But I only needed the tissues! I don’t think I can afford all of this extra stuff!” You call after the wolf who was already a good ways ahead of you, climbing up the staircase you had walked down moments ago.

As expected, Remi didn’t stop even slightly as you shout to him, only raising a large hand into the air again as he had done before and waving you off dismissively once again. He turned his head only slightly, just enough for you to see the smirk across his face as he continued to get further and further away from you, up the stairs. “Don’t mention it!” He let out a snarky laugh to himself, shaking his head as he quickly disappeared from sight.

“Damn it, Draeko. This is the first AND last trip I ever come on with you..” Defeated and suddenly exhausted from this ridiculous exchange, you sigh, plunging a hand into the heavy bag of cold remedies and pulling out one of the large boxes of tissues.

At least after all of that— you finally h— managed to hH— get what y-you—

“HIH-KEPTTCHieww!!”

[theanonymousopossum]

Elriel Part 5: Darkness and Light

Just in time to post this-enjoy!

TW: none, just fluff

Word count: <1K

I let out a sigh. I had been painting for hours now, had been working on this particular piece for weeks. Nyx sat on the floor beside me, babbling happily. I smiled at him. He truly was the greatest joy in my life, and I had found motherhood to be such a gift. I scooped him up to prevent him from knocking over my paint bottles, gave him a swift kiss on the forehead, and then set him down on top of the dresser where he could see my painting. "What do you think, my little one?" I asked him. He laughed, and fluttered his tiny wings. Rhys had said he would be able to fly by the end of the year, and I smiled ruefully at the destruction that was sure to come then. I looked back at the painting. I didn't know why I'd decided to paint it, but it felt...right. On the left side was Elain, gorgeous as ever, surrounded by a golden light. Her curls were illuminated by a halo of shimmering sunlight, and around her flowers bloomed, all different kinds-roses, lilies, irises, hydrangeas, daffodils, and some I couldn't even name, had only seen her tending to in the garden. On the right was Azriel, wreathed in shadows, his massive wings unfurled, and around him, broken weapons, bones of all shapes, and pools of blood decorated the canvas. But in the middle...in the middle their hands were joined, and the shadows and light melded together. I thought back to when I had first seen them together, and had believed that Elain would cling to Azriel, and that her light would compliment his darkness so well. Elain needed someone who would not underestimate her, who would believe in her, who would truly see her as no one else had. And Az...Az needed a friend, someone who was kind and gentle, unlike the rough upbringing he was given. He needed someone who could care for him, and would not be scared of the power he wielded, nor put off by the scars he bore. We of the inner circle loved him, of course, but he needed something-or someone-else. And I thought Elain to be that someone, and my mind never changed.

I packed away my art supplies, set out my painting to dry, and scooped Nyx up. I considered going straight back home, but I remembered that Elain had asked me to stop by and help her taste some new recipes. I looked at the clock. I would be about an hour earlier than intended, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I winnowed swiftly, leaving Nyx in Mor's care, then directly into the living room of the townhouse. I inhaled deeply. It smelled lovely as always, with the scent of freshly baked cookies, warm buttery pastries, and the sweet scent of fresh jam. Elain had recently gotten into jam making, after Nuala and Cerridwen had pointed out that particular use of the fresh fruit she had harvested from her trees. I walked to the window and looked out at the orange grove. And...there. Elain was on the ground, carefully mulching the trees, and flying on the top, picking oranges from the trees, was Azriel. I watched them for a minute, Elain telling some story I couldn't hear, and Azriel listening with rapt attention. As the shadows drifted down, swirling through her hair, dancing around her fingers, evening out the mulch, she smiled, and blew a kiss to the small black wisps. Az landed next to her, and set down the baskets. They walked over to a bench, Elain still talking. They sat, and Elain was almost glowing with excitement, her joy nearly manifesting in physical form. And Az, he was the reason she shined so brightly. I was sure that Elain could have told that story to any one of us and not been as happy as she was telling it to him. I thought back to my painting, of their joined hands, and if I had had any doubts before, none still remained, for I knew that Azriel's darkness let Elain's light shine, and her light brought out the best of his darkness. I smiled, for I knew that they would be happy, happy just like Rhys and I were, and I was so joyful that they would be the next match in our happy family.

Taglist: @elriel-month

A/N: This one was super duper short, but I really loved it and enjoyed writing from Feyre's POV. Thank you all for your support so far, it means a lot <3

[grapenehifics]

Fic Rec Friday

Here's today's lesson in 'people can't actually read your mind, dumbass' (it's me, I'm the dumbass in this scenario). I was talking to @palfriendpatine66 and just, like, assumed that I'd already written a big long treatise about how much I love Center Stage? But, then, turns out, I guess I haven't. So, here one is now!

The flashbacks, and the way they're integrated into the plot. Maybe I'm just so impressed by this because it is so hard for me, personally, to do. But there's two stories going on here, and one of them isn't even told completely linearly, and they both feed off of each other and one gives you context for the other but instead of it just being 'plot info dump background information hope you remember this because it will be important later' (which is how I tend to do it), it's pieced out at the time that you need it and it leaves me hungry for MORE. I was just as, if not more, invested in the 'backstory' as I was in the present-day stuff.

Obi-Wan and Anakin feel like them. I mean, you know I love a good sports-as-Jedi metaphor, and the dancing works really well too. It's physical and mental at the same time, so you get those elements that you get from a good sparring scene: sexual tension, Anakin wanting to impress Obi-Wan (who is maybe less physically flashy but more experienced), determination to get it right, having to balance technical prowess with emotion...

It's a fun little peek into a world that I don't have a lot of experience in; one of my favorite things in the world is an AU where the person is clearly writing from personal experience and I get to learn stuff about dance competitions or coffee shops or someone's job or whatever

THE PINING

You know what the pining deserves a second bullet point because it's that good, there's just such LONGING and old hurts that they have to work through but the love is always there, they just have to let themselves be brave and take a chance

This is maybe just a more specific version of bullet point 2 but Obi-Wan is not only a performer but a teacher, too, and still in that transition period between the two so he's grappling with his feelings about aging and shifting to a different stage (ha) of his career, and as someone who is very much into the current Star Wars trend (on TV, anyway) of exploring middle age and what happens after these really monumental life events this speaks to me personally. Like, these are actual adults who are learning to grow into themselves and they're still who they are but they've let life change them, too.

Again I'm still stuck on the flashbacks but you get to watch Anakin's progression from needy, broke, angry teen to quitting the studio and leaving Obi-Wan behind for supposedly greener pastures all the way to coming home to him again and it feels exactly right and very Anakin

All in sub 14k words which just boggles my mind because I don't know if you've noticed but brevity is not my jam and I am deeply impressed anytime someone manages to pack so much emotion into a (to me) short wordcount

This quote: "He loved Anakin now and he had loved Anakin then. He had never known a time where he didn’t love Anakin, it had just grown and changed along with them" which sums up canon Obikin to me in, like, ten seconds

Also, it has a happy and romantic ending, so even when things get tough, never fear it'll work out

[bomberqueen17]

oh cool

we got back from ellicottville, where we were attending a ski weekend of DF and MM's family just for hanging out purposes, and I went to work yesterday to try and catch up on things and it wasn't bad so i was like ok fine whatever, and this morning i had a sore throat so i was like you know, that was a lot of traveling, and on saturday night we had to stand in a jam-packed bar for two hours just to get the only sandwiches available in town (Ellicottville NY is a very small ski town and the week kids have off from school in February is The Busiest Week Of The Year there, and the three whole restaurants they have can only put on so much staff, you're going to have to wait for a sandwich and if you don't have a kitchen in your B&B it's not like you have a choice about it), and you know viruses still exist, so i took a covid test while i was getting ready this morning just as a precaution and--

oh. streak broken! i'd never had it, but i do now. cool cool cool cool.

did i think standing in a bar for two hours literally crammed up against other people was a good idea? no. but when you're just kind of along for the ride on other people's vacations and making your own last-minute plans just to get things done, you don't get to really choose a lot, and since the world has collectively decided viruses aren't a thing anymore, then I guess this is the consequence.

So, cool. I still have to do two vacations' worth of laundry and try to piece my life back together, but now I get to do it while trying to isolate from Dude, who still tests negative, in this shoebox of a house in winter.

Anyway I'm asymptomatic except for the sore throat, and I mask constantly at work anyway (yes! still! i am the only human in the world who still does this apparently?) so I certainly didn't expose anyone yesterday.

Sigh.