#alaskan down coat

[warehouse-staff-blog]

Lot 2210 1930'S ALASKAN DOWN COAT

こんにちは 名古屋店 コジャです。

冬にしてはこうも気温が高いと「これ（持っている物）で過ごせるな～」と、 高額というのもあり重衣料の「何か買っとこう」とは中々なりにくいものですよね。

だけど暖冬と言えど寒いものは寒い。 気温が低くなるにつれてヘビーアウターの必要性を実感しますよねぇ。

そこで、 サイズは揃っておりませんが「やっぱり極暖アウターが欲しい。となるとダウンかなぁ。しかもカッコイイの！」となればこちらでしょう。

WAREHOUSE & CO. Lot 2210 1930'S ALASKAN DOWN COAT ＼176.000-(with tax)

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アメリカ空軍は第二次世界大戦の初期に、アラスカを拠点にこの軽量キルティングダウンスーツを採用しました。1930年代後半にエディー・バウアーがデザインしたこのスーツは、もともとアラスカのブッシュパイロット用でしたが、アメリカ空軍のジョン・ゲッデス中尉がアリューシャン列島の作戦で、当時の非常に重いシープスキン製フライトギア（Ｂ－7）の代わりにこのスーツを着用するようになってから急速に普及しました。当時ダウンジャケットはまだそれほど広く知られていない存在でしたが、ゲッデスはその後昇進し、アメリカ空軍の極寒地用衣服の再設計にバウアー社の協力を求め、その結果、有名な「B-9ダウンパーカー」と「A-8トラウザー」が誕生したのです。

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地域によっては着用回数が少なくなることもあるかと思いますが、 「惚れたアウター」を所持していることで、 寒いのは苦手だけど服好きにとって冬将軍到来は満を持して感がありますよね。

詳細はWAREHOUSE HPのトピックにてアラスカンダウンを取り上げています。 そちらも御覧になって下さいね。 【ウエアハウスが20年前から作り続けるダウンコートの「最高峰」。】 https://ware-house.jp/newitem/spcl2401/

また上記及び下記URLにて大阪店 土屋のサイズ別着用感・コーディネート案更新していますのでそちらもご参考下さい。 WAREHOUSE HP“コーディネート”【アラスカンダウンコートをシンプルに】 https://ware-house.jp/coordinate/240201/

172cm,60kg SIZE:38

172cm,60kg SIZE:40

172cm,60kg SIZE:42

ではでは名古屋店からも着用感をお届けしますね～。

173cm,60kg SIZE:40

173cm,60kg SIZE:42

179cm,69kg SIZE:42

179cm,69kg SIZE:44

寒さへの耐性が高い方ならインナーをロンTEE、なんなら半袖TEEでもいけますよ。 ミドル丈 & コヨーテファーやジップを上げた際口元まで隠れるダウンならでは。

↑ここまでだと街中では若干やりすぎかもしれませんが、 ウールスエードフードライナーが付いているので寒すぎて耐えられない緊急レベル級の際はここまで覆えばとっても安心。

ポケット内も抜かりなく。

温もりを取り上げましたが、 今の時代軽くて温かい物は溢れかえっております。

でも、 このアラスカンダウンの生産に至るまでの背景やコットンシェル・コヨーテファーなどによる天然素材ならではの風合い。 「（雑誌などで）見たことはあるけど街中で見かけない」のはこういったアイテムですよねぇ。

差を付けたい方はこれでキマリではないでしょうか？ ただもしかするとこういった「好き」が集まるWAREHOUSEの店舗では被る可能性も笑

是非御検討下さいね～。 では失礼���します。

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☞ [営業時間のお知らせ]

平素よりウエアハウス直営店をご利用頂き有難う御座います。 ウエアハウス直営店では営業を下記の通り変更しております。

《2024.2.4.現在の営業時間》

◎東京店　【営業時間：平日 12時～19時　土日祝 12時～19時】無休 ◎阪急メンズ東京店 【営業時間：平日 12時～20時　土日祝 11時～20時】無休 ◎名古屋店【営業時間： 平日 12時～19時　土日祝 12時～19時】水曜定休 ◎大阪店　【営業時間： 平日 12時～19時　土日祝 12時～19時】 無休 ◎福岡店　【営業時間： 平日 12時～19時　土日祝 12時～19時】 無休 ◎札幌店　【営業時間： 11時～20時】  木曜定休

今後の営業時間等の変更につきましては改めて���ブログにてお知らせ致します。 お客様におかれましてはご不便をお掛けいたしますが御ご理解の程、宜しくお願い申し上げます。

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☞ 『WAREHOUSE直営店の LINE公式アカウント開設』

WAREHOUSE&CO.直営店からのお得な情報や、エリア限定のクーポンなどを配布しています。

LINE公式アカウント開設にあたり、 2019年3月26日（火）以降、提供しておりましたスマートフォンアプリはご利用できなくなっております。 お手数をおかけしますが、今後はLINEアカウントのご利用をお願いします。

ご利用されるエリアのアカウントを「友だち登録」して下さい。 ※WAREHOUSE名古屋店をご利用頂いているお客様は【WAREHOUSE　EAST】をご登録下さい。

※直営店のご利用がなければ【WESTエリア】をご登録下さい。

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☞[リペアに関して]

弊社直営店で行っておりますジーンズ等のリペアの受付を休止させて頂いております。 ※ご郵送に関しても同様に休止させて頂いております。再開の日程は未定です。

ご迷惑お掛け致しますが、ご理解下さいます様お願い致します。 ※弊社製品であればボトムスの裾上げは無料にてお受けしております。お預かり期間は各店舗により異なりますのでお問合せ下さい。

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☞WAREHOUSE公式インスタグラム

☞WAREHOUSE経年変化研究室

☞“Warehousestaff”でTwitterもしております。

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WAREHOUSE名古屋店

〒460-0011 愛知県名古屋市中区大須3-13-18

TEL：052-261-7889

《2024.2.4.現在の営業時間》

【営業時間：平日 12時～19時、土日祝 12時～19時】水曜定休

[lieutenantfloyd]

For better or worse Beau is, and always has been, a deeply prideful man. It’s often the first thing people learn about him. The following fact being that the closest he's ever come to an apology in his decades-long career is a curt head nod and an inexplicably soulful expression. But now, six days into his yearly two-week trip deep in the Alaskan wilderness, everything has come crashing down and he’s left fighting the urge to declare vanquishment. Simply because he asked his longtime crush to tag along. Crush. He's always hated that word. What a childish way to refer to feelings far deeper and more complex than he’d ever like to admit. Yet, that’s really all you were to him. That’s all he’ll let you be. He never lets himself feel, no, think deeper about you. Not about how you're each other's emergency contact, not about how he keeps a picture of your smiling face on his desk and in his wallet. And in his car visor. And on his bedside…, and definitely not about how you were one of the few people who didn’t run for the hills the first time you met him. Though on lonelier nights, he slips up and ponders why you chose to stick around or why you dared to dig deeper. The reality of the situation washes over him. His mind alternates between emotional panic and scanning the tree line in hopes that some beast will come and swallow him whole. You're here, with your head propped up on his right shoulder, and the intricacies of life that keep him up at night are suddenly neither here nor there. The sudden shift of your weight at his side abruptly pulls him back to reality. A comfortable silence hangs between you; and against his better judgment, he abandons those terribly interesting snow covered spruces to instead spare you a nervous glance. As if on cue, your eyes drop from the sky and meet his. Instinct screams at him to move, only it speaks just a second too late. Now you find yourselves completely frozen. Not unlike the lake on the outskirts of his family’s property. A million different emotions stir inside him while pure delight blooms on your features. A lazy smile hangs on your lips as your gaze bounces between his eyes and the powder that is now undoubtedly scattered in his short cropped hair. Last night's snow had returned. For the first time, he admits that; just like the early morning weather broadcast; he was wrong. Undeniably, wholeheartedly, and undoubtedly wrong.

Love is alive.

Not in fairy tale endings and Nicholas Sparks adaptations, but in drunken spur-of-the-moment invites because you can’t imagine being there without them. It's there when you’re rummaging through a dusty closet. search for your old winter coat even though you told them ten times to pack one. It’s in matching Adirondack chairs and locking eyes over a campfire. Love looks at him with a kindness he will never be able to award himself. Its home is just inches away.

Now all he needs to do is reach out and claim it.

a/n: Firstly, thank you to @ahopelessromanticwritersworld for sending me this idea in the first place! I hope this lives up to what you imagined!! Another thank you to @bbooks-and-teas, @noxytopy, and @marchingicenotes7 for encouraging me to post this as well!

[blurred-cat]

get yourself a pack of FROZEN Pink Salmon/Sockeye/Alaskan Salmon steaks.

Remove (1) from the pack. This is for a single guy only. I've never cooked multiple because (1) is enough for me.

(Atlantic salmon is too salty and not fatty enough for this recipe you have been warned. you understand the risks.)

preheat the oven up to 425 Bake setting.

get a glass cookware of some size.

put like enough POURABLE olive oil in the bottom of the cookware to keep the salmon froom sticking (follow ur heart on amounts).

I have used spray Olive oil and it is trash (in my opinion). Vegetable oil performed oddly. Sesame Oil made it taste like Sesame oil. Experiment with others at your own risk. you understand the risks. but i have not tried other oils.

put FROZEN salmon in cookware, skin down/flat part down. coat generously in lemon pepper (it's not going to stick all at once dont worry we can fix this later)

put it in oven for like. 15 - 20 minutes.

check on it. fat should be rendered out. add more lemon pepper on top. it should stick now. all is well.

okay here's the hard part. close oven. between 2 and 8 minutes are left to cook this salmon but

you gotta learn.

you gotta practice.

there's an intuitive thing going on here.

i can tell by smell, how easily the salmon flakes under fork, and based on how much fat has rendered out and where

i can't help you anymore, fly my baby bird, your fish will be delicious if you don't overcook it.

If she's dry, you overcooked it. if she's heavily charred, you overcooked it.

if she's cold inside? she's undercooked. if her color is dark pink inside (aka a different color than her outside)? she's undercooked.

take salmon out.

plate immediately.

eat asap. NOW EAT IT RIGHT NOW GO!

good fish.

[justblades]

FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT ! PART TWO !

☆ CHARACTER : mafia boss! luca kaneshiro x afab! reader

☆ WARNINGS : SMUT, MDNI. breeding kink, spit kink, size kink, size difference, creampie, stockings, possessiveness, cervix kissing. not proofread.

☆ part two out of two. click here to read part one!

with one fuck up just like that, here you are collared to the boss' hands. you are now a part of his mafia— one that is powerful and upholds a prestigious title, one that shouldn't be messed with even if it was just a little. if anyone were to lay their hands on the mafia boss' handpicked, exalted people, they will pay the price; the payment is of their lives.

he showed no difficulties upon braving through the plight of extinguishing the old mafia you used to be a part of. luca kaneshiro proved his mastery in the society of mafias where anyone could bend the law for their own beneficiaries, to further spread their influence among the commoners— as you saw him operate with ease upon conquering your ex-mafia, it was inevitable you started to understand his charms and fall like a hypnotized victim in his control.

"you . . loyalty isn't a concept that exists in your dictionary huh?" he whispers to your ears, leathered hands cupping your mounds softly. you remain seated just above his crotch, whereas the mafia boss indulges in the comfort of his alaskan king bed, positioned at the far end of the mattress.

you shook your head lightly as an attempt to say no since your voice has long betrayed you. spending more time with him especially in moments of intimacy only did more harm than good— you couldn't feign bravery in front of luca anymore. you could no longer carve a falsified conceited smile across your lips, nor be smug about your credibilities and achievements you've soared so high for to reach.

"what if you meet someone better than me? are you going to do a quick switch up too? are you going to leave me alone in a ditch when someone more powerful than me leashes you?" strings of absurd questions continually come out that only made you rack your brains out for answers. it took you a short while but a flashback reoccurs in the back of your mind. that's when you realized. "i'll choose to stick by your side until the end . . that was my pledge as i replaced your consigliere." pausing in between sentences, luca buries his soft features on the nape of your neck.

his tall, pointed nose brushes past the sensitive part of the skin to which you whimper from. he's been like this for the past 30 minutes, your folds have become niagra falls at the painfully slow rate he was going. "wrong answer." he utters as he bites his canines down on your neck, your body flinches from the shockwaves being sent to your system. to soothe the stinging sensation throbbing on the skin, he rolls his tongue over and over to coat the part with his alcohol tinged juices.

you bite back the breathy whimpers threatening to slip out of your lips. "no one is better than me. no one does this better than me. your answer should've been something along those lines." the tone of luca's voice underlies with authority. "yes boss." quickly responding, his hands roam on your lower back, pushing you slowly away from his body.

"scoot over." slightly bending over, your back facing him, the striped, mini skirt you were wearing rakes up your thighs— showing luca a view only he have the access to. revealing your panties which were all wet from your sopping slit, the blond draws circles on your region with his index and middle fingers.

holding on to your knees as support to keep you still from your boss' teasing, more pleasuring tones bubble from your throat. his digits perfectly rub on your clothed clit, he knows exactly your sweet spot and what to do with it. although it is still a mystery how he's so proficient at this, the thought of him doing this with others apparently left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

unable to bear with the lust clouding your mind any longer, you finally reach your limit and palm the male's erection with accuracy. "boss, may i?" you ask for permission as you slowly slide your fingers up and down his hard bulge; he cocks a brow at how you're acting as if you need to rush but he gives you an answer of affirmation nonetheless.

you slowly strip your boss free of the restrainments of his throbbing cock and proceeded to whip it out, curling your digits on his girth carefully. a bizarre idea popped in your mind while you were wearing the stockings luca ordered you to, and tonight was about executing it, wondering if it will work at all.

nestling his cock in between your inner thighs, you buck your hips up and down to let it slide back and forth your body, making friction to ease the yearning lust searing from luca's dick. the silky, smooth fabric of the stockings caress his cock from its tip down to its shaft, all in slow motions to fully revel in the feeling.

the longer you dragged it on, the more audible luca's moans became, his noises were lewd and huskily soft that only him is capable of making. he propped his strong arms by his sides and watches your movements brazenly, enjoying how his dick is buried in the comforting plush of your thighs. "fuck, where did you learn this?"

he asks and bit his lower lip aggressively, the libido gushing through his veins increases twice as faster. he admires how the bright golden light of his chandeliers gleam at your clothing, showing how your body looked so feastable for his eyes. the flames of temptation to prey on you continues to burn bright, this time it only continues to ignite— "i can't take it anymore."

luca says as he rips your stockings open along with your garments using extreme force, teeth grinding against each other, a little too sexually frustrated from such a heavenly view. there, he prods to your hole without any more words or warnings told. he clasps his arms on yours and pulls you close to his body, to which you mewl loudly because of the crown of his dick kissing your cervix harshly.

he was so big that he fills you all the way in, you couldn't wrap your head around that fact. your head starts to drift off into cloud nine this early, your arms being held on your behind made you feel more powerless than before. your boss proceeds to ram himself in and out of your tight walls with a slow manner at first.

his dick was coated with so much of your love juices that everytime he'd intrude your slit, lewd noises echo inside his lavish bedroom. along with the naughty sounds your cunt and his dick is making, both of you and luca's moans blend along as well, his groans of pleasure resounding in your ears like a reward for how you've been such a good girl for him.

you pant heavily as a poor attempt to catch your breath, the blond was picking up the pace way too fast that you couldn't keep up with at all. it all felt overwhelming the more frequent his cock's tip makes contact with your womb. "you know, i've been wanting to impregnate you for a while already."

the sentence chiming into your ears was what you least expected from the male, taking into account that it was from your boss, in a mafia you work under for. the only sole question popping in your mind as you received those words was: why?

"you're probably wondering why." as usual, he quickly gets the gist from your confused reactions. in before he gets to give you an answer, his heavy breaths become even more jagged and irregular in pattern. "no reason either. i just want to shower you with my cum until you finally get knocked up."

his gloved hands then let go of your arms swiftly, the heavy thrusting into your pussy halts for a short minute. "lay on the bed. now." he orders you around and you get to the position without dawdling any further. you lay your back carefully on the soft comforters of luca's vast bed, your weight sinking on a particular spot to which more was added when the mafia boss looms over your small frail body.

his golden hair accessory is nowhere to be found, thus his flaxen strands just hang loose perfectly, all the while his lavender hues fixate with yours. "you're just so pretty." he mumbles and strokes himself, prepping to enter your throbbing cunt once again.

with one swift thrust, you become a mewling mess for the nth time tonight. your walls were starting to clamp around luca's cock and the male could swore to the heavens your hole was the best he had ever laid his hands on. once he picks up the pace and builds a fast yet steady momentum, a knot feeling forms in your lower abdomen.

your eyes start to feel heavy the nearer you got to catch your bliss of release, luca doesn't stop jackhammering into your slutty folds as he continues to thrust into you even though he's creampied you already— his murky white liquids staining your walls and inner thighs. "boss . . you've been telling me way too many absurd things ever since you met me."

he only chuckles in exchange and wraps his right hand around your neck. "that's just how you have me tightly wrapped around your pinky." his teeth rotting, saccharine sweet words reverberate inside the four walls of the room, making you flustered as you laid on the bed there. "open your mouth."

parting your lips open, you stick out your tongue to follow suit according to your boss' command. he gathers all his saliva in one place and spits is out all on your mouth, you widen your eyes in realization when he finally says something. "gulp it all down."

swallowing the thick viscous liquids with no hesitation, you open your mouth one time again to show him you willingly obliged to his favors. the corners of his lips only tug upwards, he really have you now submitting yourself wholeheartedly to him. looking back, you were like a dog barking and threatening to bite hand that has been meaning to help you and make you flourish. but now, you're all warmed up and cozied to his character, not even able to show him the slightest aggression; not one bit.

the moment of eureka perhaps dawns a little too late, but the reflection told you one thing: luca kaneshiro is indeed a charming figure. it was undoubtedly that he would punish his failure underdogs as he always wants the best results yielded for the sole reason that is: results to him are fruitions of his skill and hardwork.

fuck around and find out, people say. you fucked with him, and you found out what are the qualities that make him admiring. you found the qualities that makes one worthy of the highest position in a mafia. you truly found out who luca kaneshiro is underneath the superficial of entangled rumors and hearsays.

☆ my masterlist !

[rodolfoparras]

Since everyone is talking about their cod ocs, I wanna join (this is so long, I'm so sorry)

So basically my little guy is autistic and trans (I'm projecting) and a huge mamas boy. His name is Everett (I just realized I NEVER gave him a last name😭) and his callsign is Rabbit and he's an Alaskan native (I'm pretty sure this is what they prefer to be called because they don't fuck with being called americans and shit? I'm not 100%)

His ma picked out Everett by force, she was like "?? I'm literally your mother, I'm picking your name" and he was so worried she'd pick something awful, turns out!

(side note, I love rabbits and use them for symbolism a lot. They represent rebirth, so I use them in trans related pieces. I did an art piece of myself pulling a rabbit out of a hat with a bunch of rebirth symbolism and shit, love the piece, may send it here to show it off)

But his callsign comes from being a rabbit hunter growing up and his ability to blend in, he specializes in undercover operations and stealth missions. (Some hares, like a snowshoe, change coats in the season to blend in from predators)

He's voluntarily mute most of the time and does not do expressions very well. Most of his childhood photos are him just 🧍‍♂️😶, gotta be reeaall close with him to have a convo with him

Because he's so quiet, he hears sooo much shit and does like weekly shit talking sessions with Ghost and Roach in their barracks. No body understands how he knows so much because fucking no one talks to him and turns out the rodents are stalking the base and listening in on conversations

Idc how overused masks are, they're so fun. He wears one at home (and at work) because he's got a huge family with lots of little kids, and he's scared of scaring them and doesn't want to "traumatize" his nieces and nephews with his scars on his face and body. Everett misses out on a LOT of family events even though he really wants to go and misses them so much because he's scared

He carries and makes a lot of rabbits feet charms because he firmly believes in their ability to bless you with good luck. He does the metal work himself and personalizes them and gives them off to people he truly cares about.

Everett believes it because his ma said so (duh) and because he narrowly missed a bullet that took a chunk of his ear inside of blowing his brains up while he carried one, so all his favorites get one to protect them.

Later in life, he wound up too close to a bomb and a piece of shrapnel went straight into his face and blinds him in one eye

He was so utterly devastated when he got medically discharged and was scared of totally losing his sight and never being able to communicate with Roach again

I'm a firm believer in polycule 141 so it just becomes scarier when Johnny starts losing his hearing from all the explosives and shit and so many of them experience wear and tear in this hand joints from working with guns

Gonna copy and paste my polycule 141 disability headcanons that I've talked about with my bf

"Ghost's got horrible horrible nightmares and sometimes will react in his sleep. Night terrors or physically reacting, but that one's very rare."

"Price definitely gets respiratory issues, half because of his cigars, and half from breathing shit in before he could get a mask on. Probably gets asthma the older he gets."

"Roach gets chronic migraines. They're basically debilitating, can't get out of bed for days and keeps all light out of his room. Takes meds for it that usually work."

"Most of them have joint issues. Half of them creak and groan like a fucking million year old house on its last leg."

"Gaz gets degenerative arthritis. I think he'd be in the force the longest and since he was the youngest to join SAS, he probably overworked himself beyond belief when he had joined. Wore him down fs"

With Johnny being hard of hearing:

"I don't if he'd be able to get hearing aids, his cochlea probably too damaged so that if he did get cochlear implants or something, they probably wouldn't do much but piss him off. Because sometimes if you get cochlears, they just make an annoying noise. So he'd just wind up pissy over it so he'd probably opt not to get them - (also the surgery is invasive and obviously doesn't work sometimes depending on person)

-141 would have to install flashing light systems through the house to alert Soap and half of em probably walk heavier to warn Soap so they don't scare him"

Since he grew up in Alaska, he was very used to it being day or night for weeks or months, sometimes finds it a little jarring when he sees the sun actually setting and the moon coming up or vise versa.

One time, after a really shit mission, he woke up in the hospital to see it was nighttime when he distinctly remembers it being day the last time he was awake. And it's like "OH SHIT HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN OUT FOR." nearly sends himself into a panic thinking he'd just woken up from a fucking coma.

Shit there's so much more I could say but this is already so long, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 I was so hyper fixated on him for a good few months with my bf

-🐧

Wait the fact that she picked the name is kinda cute and that the reason behind it was bc she’s the mom here idk it’s nice when parents are properly involved in their kids life

Also I’ll forever love yalls background story for your call names bc they’re always so thought out and so interesting genuinely y’all are so creative 🥹

I love that he has shit talking sessions with ghost and roach bc I absolutely think they’d get along well soap info dumps sm gaz overshares and price uses Everett to complain so he knows sm and randomly shares the info😭

Does his mask look something akin to a rabbit or does it represent rabbits in any way? Also now I’m imagining him walking around on base all excited about handing out charms😭 oh my goodness imagine each charm having something that represents the members that wears it?

Oh man although it’s sad he went blind in one eye I can imagine he’d lock sick in a prosthetic eye!!

Also I like how the disability hc actually makes sense especially prices and soaps but especially prices bc I know that man has coughing fits and snores horribly and you can hear a certain rasps in his voice when he talks 😭

And I love them being a polycule and taking care of each other in this way 🥹 like I know this is what you do in healthy relationships but idk it’s sweet ? Like price giving gaz massages bc his wrists hurt a lot? 🥹

Also don’t apologize sugar it’s okay!! It was a really interesting read genuinely I wish I had the ability to create ocs but not just ocs-, but ocs that have so much depth and backstory it’s absolutely amazing that y’all have this ability!

[desolateddreamur]

Dear Diary

Stan x reader

Story: Stan goes through your diary

Female reader!

Requested? No!

TW: Death, illness and the fact it made me cry a little at the end

Fun fact: on the speech to text entries, I actually used speech to text over my phone and then just added the name thing at the end.

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10/25

Dear Diary,                                                  

Mom wants me to start a diary since Im in a new town. So I'll introduce myself.

My name is Y/n Heeler and I moved to South Park at the age of 9 from my home in Alaska after my dad. Mom also came to the realization that she liked girls so we moved to a more accepting place.

I met a really nice boy named Clyde when I got lost and met his friends. They showed me around and told me about how weird the town actually is.

I think I saw a boy in an orange jacket die. There was a guy in a green hat and two in red coats (one was fat as hell) standing near him.

The one in the beanie with the puff ball is cute...

Mom said I shouldn't be friends with his group because of how strange it is. But I like them. They're quite charming!

- Y/n

11/01

Dear Diary,                                                

I met my classmates. It's the boys I saw and the ones I met! Along with a lot of others. The guy in the puff ball beanie is named Stan. But he's with a girl named Wendy so I guess being friends is the better shot?

She's really nice, but immediately seemed to not like me when I said Stan was cute. That's how I found out they were dating. I told her I wouldn't do anything to get between them.

She seemed to like hearing that and calmed down.

Fatboy asked if I spoke English because I was Alaskan during lunch. Probably because I didn't talk during class at all.

Mom said she'd talk to his guardian.

Next thing I know she has a date planned with his mom. It really pisses me off!!

- Y/n

Stan snorts. He looked back to how much arguing occurred before Liane and Miranda got married. It was even worse when Cartman and Y/n had to start living in the same house. Then came the chaos of being step-siblings... That was a fucking nightmare.

He skipped a few pages til he came up on a date he remembered clearly.

3/16

Dear Diary,                                                    

Wendy broke up with Stan.

I saw him stumbling around the street drunk so I went to help.

He said Wendy never helped him when he drank his sadness away. I asked if there's anything I can do and he asked if he could spend the night at my place and I tell him a bedtime story.

Good thing Mom was on a several day long date with Liane. I said yes and took him home.

I wish he had someone who took time to care for him. I wish it was me...

I told him the story my mom always would when I couldn't sleep. It's the story of two princesses that fall in love.

The prince never came to rescue one so his princess sister came to her rescue instead.

She saves the locked away princess and they fall in love because unlike him, she took action.

He seemed to like the story and fell asleep.

I think I'll tell him that he can stay for the next few days if he'd prefer to be monitored and have space. Just so he doesn't get into fights with his friends or drinks again.

- Y/n

He gave a soft smile, remembering that night. It was embarrassing, sure, but he had a great time when he spent the next few days there.

"And so, princess Penelope and princess Autumn lived happily ever after. The end."

The girl smiled down to the half-asleep Stan. He mumbled a "Love you so much..." That she didn't catch before falling asleep completely.

He flipped a few years further, passing the fifth grade pages, moving into the seventh grade.

3/20

Dear Diary,                                                    

I feel funny whenever I'm with Stan.. Mom says I'm in love. I think she's right. He's been on and off with Wendy so I might have a chance... I hope I do.

I think I'll try to hit on Stan tomorrow. Make it real subtle so if Stan does like me he'll catch on and Wendy won't.

School has been rough as ever, what with how I'm in several clubs. Chess, soccer, art, and year book. It's really overwhelming but I have to make dad proud. I miss him.

His deathiversary is coming up next week. I'll probably get him his favorite flowers. If South Park even has lilies of the valley.

I'll check over the weekend. Maybe take Clyde with me so we can hang out afterwards.

Wish me luck with Stan, diary!

- Y/n

He fondly sighs. She really struck him with her devotion that day.

"Nobody gets me like you do, Stanley... You wanna just call in sick tomorrow to hang out? Cartman is out of town and our mothers are on vacation.."

She leaned her head on Stan's shoulder and closed her eyes. It was a move she did often but after what she said the gesture held so much more meaning.

4/05

Dear Diary,                                                   

I don't feel good. I feel sick.

I can't walk, I can't get up, I can't stand, I can hardly breathe and I'm having a hard time talking and writing. I'm scared. I'm really, really scared.

I don't know what I have. We're getting me checked to tomorrow. Cartman is actually worried for me.

It's surprising how much compassion he really has. I have to stop writing now.

He eyed the pages and how the next one wasn't hand written. It was a printed sheet of paper with text taped to the page.

April 17th Dear diary I can't believe what I was diagnosed with apparently I have Duchenne muscular dystrophy I'm scared it'll kill me and I don't want to die I'm only 12 I want to tell Stan I love him but I don't have the energy to call him I hardly have the energy to even speak that's what I'm doing this I'm using voice to text to put in my next entry I wish I had a better chance at life I'll never get to graduate high school or go to college or get married or have a family I hope they just treat me like a dog and put me down out of my misery signed Y/n

He released a shaky breath. She didn't show up to school that day. She didn't show up to school ever again after that either. He skipped quickly to the final entry which was only a few pages off- about two years later.

July 22nd dear diary I think this is my last few days the doctor only said I have 2 weeks left to live I want to tell Stan I love him but I still can't form anymore words I'm scared hardly even speak to write this entry for Stan I leave my diary to tell him how I feel Shelly I leave my phone Kyle I leave all of my books and all of my art supplies for Ike for Kenny I leave my bank account and my piggy bank and all of the money I have hiding in my room to Cartman I leave my room itself and all the stuffed animals in it to Liane I leave all of my college credit that I have that I have gained throughout the years and that you can use it to get a truly stable job of yourself just make sure to change it to be under your name instead of mine and to my mother I leave with an I love you and that I will be with Dad I know that he is proud of us and he is proud of you and Liane I'm going to miss you all but I know I have to be brave signed Y/n

Stan, on his bed, broke into loud sobs and weeps. Tears streamed down his face as he closed the sparkly f/c diary and clutched it to his chest. He cried and cried, the sound of his sorrow the only sound in the house.

Shelly, now no longer bearing headgear for her beautiful smile, slowly opened the door and made her way over, promptly sitting beside him. He flinched at her proximity, expecting to be hit for being too loud. But he wasn't. She simply gave him a tight hug.

The ravenette tensed in confusion before relaxing and leaning into the hold of his older sister, ignorant of the wet droplets from her face that fell onto his head as she held him tightly. She lost just as much of a friend as he did.

And though she made no noise, she cried as hard as her brother. Long into the night, far into the morning.

Up in the clouds, a h/c man with enormous wings and h/c teen with cupid-sized wings were cuddled together, watching over Stan and Miranda as they spoke fondly to one another.

Even if you lose someone you love, you must always know that they loved you just as much as you did and that they will always, always be protecting you, whether or not they are there in spirit or in new form.

[gardens-light]

Keep Me Warm

Re-watching the original two Hellboy movies, awakening my love for the wise cracking, lovable badass.

Content- 'There's only one bed' cliché'. Just fluff.

The harsh mountain wind swept through you with an icy chill. Frost begun to build up in your eyelashes and hair, the fur-lined hood of your thick winter coat, slowly allowed the snow to sink into the fabric. Cloud of mist escaped you with each breath. The aching in your legs couldn't bare the weight of your body any longer, causing you to collapse to your knees. Knelling against the deep snow, feeling every ache in your tired body.

The mission begun to drag on for too long, the creature's tracks which you and Hellboy were following, slowly disappeared. Being swept away by the blizzard that begun to brew over the Alaskan mountain range. The trail thinning and becoming a dead end.

"Agent Hellboy! We need to turn around!".

"We're close to the bastard! I can feel it!."

You groaned in pain, even talking begun to get painful. Each word feeling like sharp needles sliding around in your already swore throat. "The trail is fading! We need to turn back!"

The demon of red looked over his shoulder, seeing you slumped against the snow. Opening his mouth to say a snarky remark, but his course face softened into a gentle expression. As he saw you hugging yourself tightly, attempting to keep the little body heat you had left. Making his way back to you, Hellboy lowered to your level gazing into your eyes through the ski goggles on your face.

"There's a town over the next peak. We'll rest there" his voice spoke over the cold winds. But you shook your head, "Manning left me in charge! Therefore I say, we head back and return to base!."

Hellboy grinded his teeth. "Kid! You're in no position to boss me around! Returning to base is another days travel, you wont last that long. A town beyond the next peak is closer, and if you stop arguing. You'll have better luck surviving the night."

You looked up at him through tired eyes, watering as the wind chilled your already frozen cheeks. Before you could give another command, Hellboy swiftly picked you up and placed you over his broad shoulder. His left arm of stone gently resting on your lower back, keeping you from falling.

Hellboy trod through the heavy snow towards the closet town, as the blizzard begun to grow stronger. Icy winds blew harder, causing the rocky mountains to whistle and sing. Heavy snow building around his ankles, even wearing down the red demon himself. Climbing over the cores terrain of the peak and making his way towards the little lights which glowed from nearby houses.

"I told you to turn back!" Having heard the sentence come from you one time too many, Hellboy's right hand slapped across your rare end. Feeling the sting across your cheeks from the force which showed no mercy, silenced you after you squeaked out a moan.

Coming to the edge of town, Hellboy lowered you gently back onto your feet. "To not 'cause a scene', this is as far as I can go. There should be an inn or something not too far from here. I'll be good and hide in the shadows, just open a window once you got a room." You remained silent, only giving the demonic agent a filthy stare before making your way through the quiet town.

Wondering a few streets in, you came across a tall lodge. The candle lit lantern outside the door barely coped with the blizzard winds. Pushing your weight against the wooden double doors, causing you to stumble into the quiet lobby. An small elderly elf looked up from her oval reading glasses as you closed the doors.

"Oh... good evening, dear" her sweet voice spoke in a surprised tone. "We don't get many human's wondering around here, can I help you with something?".

You silently nodded as you shook off the snow and ice, which clung onto your boots and coat. The elderly elf carefully flipped through a thick, leather bound book whose pages have seen better days. "It's just for the night, ma'am." She nodded, acknowledging your voice.

"I have one room left. It's small but comfortable" "two beds?" the elf slid her reading glasses down her nose a little, raising an eyebrow as she peered over the thin frame. "No my dear, just a double. But since there's only one of you. I believe it be quite satisfactory." You weakly smiled and accepted the rusty, old fashioned key. The elf gave you one last stare before saying, "up the stairs and to the left, dear. Have a good night."

Making your way to the room, closing and locking the wooden door behind you. The room was indeed small, the old fashioned double bed and matching bedside tables almost took up the whole space. Only leaving enough room for a medium size armchair in a corner near the window and a gap to shuffle towards a door, leading to a private bathroom.

Squeezing past the furniture as you made your way towards the window. Your fingers which felt like they were covered in frostbite struggled against the metal lash, opening the window with a hard yank. Snow and ice begun to flow into the room, waving a hand out the window, alerting the red demon to your whereabouts. It wasn't long till Hellboy appeared in front of you and squeezed his buff and tall figure through the frame. It was a very tight fit, but Hellboy pushed himself through and closed the window. Shaking off the ice and snow off his leather trench coat.

He looked around the small room, watching you light the lanterns upon the bedside tables with a single match. Pulling out a wooden match and lighting a cigar, as he held it close to his mouth, "it's small but guess it's ok" a heavy sigh left you as you kicked off your boots. "Look, I'm not exactly thrilled with this situation either. But we need to make do for tonight."

As you straightened your posture and removed your coat, from the corner of your eye. Watching Hellboy remove his trench coat and hung it over the back of the arm chair, before slouching in it. You hung the coat by the hood at the end of the bed. Climbing onto the mattress and pulling the covers over yourself, Hellboy silently watched as you settled into the blankets and pillows. Content that you'll soon fall asleep, he gently rested his head against the back of the chair. Eyes slowly closing as he too drifted into a nap.

Feeling the crick in his neck, Hellboy rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms. Yellow eyes fluttered open as he leaned forward, a low groan leaving his mouth as he slowly woke up. The cigar no longer remained resting between his lips, instead the last small remain rolled off his lap and onto the floor. Hellboy brushed off the small bits of ash, before looking up at you. His gentle gaze studied your figure which curled tightly in the fetal position, shivering under the duvet.

You rolled onto your side, causing you to be within Hellboy's arms reach. The arm chair creaked as he carefully leaned forward, placing a gentle hand onto your shoulder. "Hey, Kid?" his husky voice whispered in a gentle tone, as he rubbed your shoulder and upper arm. His touch caused you to stir, slowly opening your eyes and seeing his concerned expression through a sleepy gaze.

"What?" you gumbled.

"Are you alright, Y/N? You're shivering"

As you became more aware of your surroundings, you heard the concern tone within Hellboy's voice. Him dropping the nickname and calling you by your name.

Slowly and carefully, not to scare or startle you. Hellboy reached under the duvet, blindly searching for your hands. Your icy touch came to him as surprise.

"Y/N, how long have you been like this?"

"I-I don't know... an hour perhaps. D-Don't worry... just need a minute."

"Of course I worry, Y/N. Plus I can't just leave you like this."

His arm retreated from underneath the duvet, as he grabbed the bottom of his black shirt, and effortlessly took it off in one smooth motion. Gently chucking it by your head, while he cupped both hands close to his mouth and blew onto them. Attempting you make his skin warm to touch.

"Wear my shirt. It be better than the cold clothes you're in."

"Th-This goes against Code 54, p-paragraph-"

"Y/N, I respect your space and privacy. But that will go out the window within seconds, if you don't co-operate. Manning may left you 'in charge' of this mission, but I couldn't care less of his authority, or his rules. So, wear the fucking shirt and come closer to me."

You knew you couldn't argue with him. Hearing the firm truth within his tone, made you silently obey his command. Removing your clothes from underneath the duvet, attempting to discreetly push them off the bed. Pulling his shirt over you, it loosely hung off your body, like an oversized dress which had no shape. But it indeed did keep you warm, his body heat raiding like a brand new heater.

You cleared your throat to break the silence briefly, Hellboy acknowledged, assuming it was a sign he could look back in your direction. "Good, now can I join you under the duvet? You can hug me. I'm warm and it do you body temperature some good." Your head slowly nodded, remaining speechless as he climbed onto the mattress.

Couldn't help but allow your gaze to wonder across his exposed torso. Faint circles and swirls shaped his biceps and chest, while scars from previous missions marked his victories. You felt the mattress dip due to his weight, the springs probably breaking and creaking, as he shuffled around in attempt to get comfy.

Resting his back against the headboard of the bed, Hellboy held out his right arm, an invite to come close into him. You cuddled into him, placing your head under the crook of his shoulder, resting completely against him. As he pulled the duvet over the both of you, and tucked you in a little more.

He warmly smiled as you sighed happily, his warmth putting your body a rest finally. Allowing you to fully lean into his embrace, "It's alright, Kid. Your Big Red has got you."

Tag List

@veevoilet

[darkwood-sleddog]

Thank you for your answer! It was very informative and got me thinking. I think the issue some people have with Pitbulls being a very active, often intense dog, is that other people try and use it as an excuse to have the Pitbull and other bully breeds all banned or disappear.

I feel the myth of the nanny dog has hurt the breed as a whole, tho so has people who see their dog as just a object with no training. You mentioned that they are dog aggressive, but are there any breeds that a Pitbull can work well with? Or a most effective way of having them not be aggressive towards other dogs?

And regarding the Bully breeds as a whole, how do you feel about each or specific ones? As some are known to naturally be more intense than others, and do you feel there should be more classes for them, rather than calling all a Bully breed?

Something we must remember is that pit bull type dogs are only the most recent dog breed to go through this. They are absolutely not alone (before current day it was German Shepherds and Rottweilers that held this stigma) and most breed ban lists for apartments include huskies, malamutes and other primitives. I think breed bans are ridiculous frankly and I think the fear the pit bull will disappear is unfounded. Yes, they might not be as prominent or popular, but in my opinion that is a good thing, because then they might be owned in majority by people that can properly manage them.

Pit Bulls are by design dog aggressive. They are bred to see other dogs as prey as this is the drive that causes them to fight. Which is what they were bred for. There are many other dog breeds that are also genetically dog aggressive for various reasons be it guardian work or just in general primitive dog things (primitive dog breeds tend to be same sex aggressive). Dog aggression can be on a sliding scale of very to none at all and can also be indiscriminate between other dogs or gender specific. Most adult dogs of a majority of dog breeds are dog selective to a degree (meaning they don't adore all other dogs indiscriminately and only have a few close dog friends they mesh well with). The most affective way to have a pit bull not be aggressive towards other dogs is to manage them so they do not get the opportunity to be aggressive towards other dogs. This means no dog parks, muzzle training, reactivity training, probably not letting them off leash etc. The best type of dog to pair with a pit bull is a human being (the pit bull is supposed to be very soft with people).

I think "bully breed" is simply an overarching term for a bunch of related dog breeds, much how we use "spitz breed" to describe various types of northern dogs with different purposes that have a double coat, pointy ears, and a curling tail. The various breeds that fall under the bully category (and which breeds fall under this category changes depending on who you ask) are classified in breed registries depending on their original purpose. I don't think they need new classifications because this is how many related breeds that aren't the bully type dogs are broken down. (For example, both Greyhounds, English Foxhounds and Norwegian Elkhounds are in the hound group, but look distinctly different. They are however classified all as hounds due to their purpose, which is being used for hunting. A Norwegian Elkhound, Alaskan Malamute, and German Spitz are all spitz type dogs, but also serve very different purposes and are thus classified differently. The American Pit Bull Terrier and the French Bulldog are both commonly classified as "bully dogs" due to their history, but we can all agree they always have and still do serve different purposes).

The American Pit Bull Terrier is a recognized breed (UKC) with a breed club, breed events etc. and is in the Terrier group. I'm linking the standard HERE so everybody can get a good sense for what the breed should be.

[fuckin-sick-bih]

OC intros

Name: Hale Hawthorn Nicknames: Natchiq, Alaska, Silver Date of birth: Dec 9th, 1971 Gender: Male Birthplace: Nome, Alaska Sexual preference: Bisexual Mate Status: Eventually mated to Jessie Caddel Occupation: Park ranger

Personality: Blunt, adventurous, hyper-independent, quiet, reclusive Likes: Guitar, camping, swimming Dislikes: Stagnation, weather over 70 degrees, controlling behavior Hobbies: Guitar

Hair: Ashy almost dirty blonde Eyes: Hazel Height: 6 foot Unique appearance attributes: Scar down the middle of his belly from an emergency surgery, round scar on the side of his torso, and burn scar on right calf on the inside. Wolf colors: Silvery gray coat Allergies: Pollen, but exceptionally allergic to Iris flowers. Exceptionally sensitive to strong smells due to being a trained tracker.

Things of interest: Smokes Marlboros, how often depends on how stressed he is. Also smokes weed, but not nearly as much as he used to. Likes to cook but doesn't often because he hates clean up and the time crunch of it. Since he grew up by the frozen sea, he can make damn good fish. Tends to get into fights after whiskey specifically.

Bit of background: Born and bred to lead the Alaskan pack, Hale Hawthorn grew up an alpha’s alpha. Under his father’s strict rule and sense of tradition, the pack struggled but survived. Disappearances happened every now and then, but life was hard up north. No one thought anything of it. When he was ten, his mother disappeared. Hale grew cold after that, like many in Nome did to survive. Hale grew, grew into bad habits, grew into rage, grew into bitterness. He saw more than the rest of the town did about how his father ran things. Then his father gave away the position of Head Alpha to his brother and Hale’s birthright was ripped out from under his feet. He organized a coop, rallied anyone who would follow him against his father, and the town of Nome clashed in a fight of blood and snow.

People died. People Hale cared about. If not for an exceptionally kind family just outside of town, Hale would have died. He was hunted through Alaska until he reached the Yukon then headed south. For a while he went as far south as he could tolerate, all the way down to Texas, but he couldn’t handle the heat.

It was there in a bar in Texas, throwing cage match fights, that Hale met Jessie. A scrappy and malnourished young pup like himself just trying to make it. In hushed voices, Jessie cut a deal with Hale to bet against the odds, win a fight against him, and they split the cut. The moment they had their winnings, they ran and friendship began to blossom. Jessie admitted he had no where to go so Hale let him stay.

[thedevilsrain]

favorite and least favorite eroica arcs and why

my favorite is the alaskan front!! no doubt about it

its pretty early on, but i think its almost the series at its peak. its at its funniest, the art is at its most beautiful (still mantaining a lot of shojo elements, but starting to drift from the more dramatic style), and the characters are at their most well written

for dorian especially with that last point. hes exremely intelligent and strategizing through this arc - he outsmarts both the major AND the KGB in this arc!! several times!! i still love to go back and read these chapters, especially since he gets really dumbed down in the later chapters. also he wears this fabulous winter coat

ofc theres also the amazing plot points - eroica gang stops the KGB by giving them laxatives, dorian and james chilling out in a cabin in alaska, dorian and eberbach trapped in a cabin in the woods, the major being flung into the freezing ocean, and as silly as it was, the little nauticla battle at the end of it

also this parallel? insane

now my least favorite is definitely in'shallah. if youre starting to read eroica i 100% recommend skipping this chapter, it aged like milk in the summer. i'll keep the 'why' under a readmore, since it gets pretty heavy

so in'shallah, its. a doozy.

i feel like this chapter actually had some great moments - james pulling on dorian's underwear, the major wearing a spy getup, dorian kissing the major on the cheek and pretending theyre Just Friends, dorian ratting the major out for the KGB and agent Z's introduction

but even i, who dont know anything about iran's history, the plot of this chapter just felt... so condescending, so orientalist, so disrespectful. there's something really nasty about having two european men travel 2 iran in the midst of a revolution, so that they could sneak in and steal treasures, while there were conflicts going on in real time (!!)

and i cant write abt this chapter without mentioning it but yeah the child sex trafficking ring. nothing more to say. its treated as completely normal and only treated as negative for a gag. dorian kisses one of the kids and not only is it treated as romantic but its the last time in the series he kisses someone. horrible chapter, extremely distasteful

[xxsp3llb0undxx]

Your Life Has Only Just Begun - Cullen Clan x GN!Reader (Part 7)

TW: Blood ,, Possible suicidal intensions ???? ,,

Summary: Reader learns the truth about forks after seeing a black wolf in the forest, how will they react after being told everything? Will they run away out of fear? Or will they accept the information with an open mind?

----------------------------------------------------

The car screeched to a stop, making y/n hit their head on the dashboard. Edward didn't notice the small amount of blood trickling down y/n's forehead, that was until the iron sent reach his nose, breathing it in. He panicked, not knowing if he could control his thirst. Y/n groans as they bring their palm up to the cut, the bleeding had gotten worse, coating their hand in a layer or the red liquid. They turned to look at Edward, only to realise his eyes had darkened and his breathing was out of control. Y/n tried their best to calm him down but he shouted at them to get out of his car, his voice strained. Once they had gotten out of the car, Edward sped off leaving a confused and scared y/n.

They started walking along the road, unaware of the eyes glued to their body, watching their every move. Y/n had been walking for 15 minutes, out of exhaustion they gave up and sat beside the road. All they could think about was how Edward was acting, why did he lash out on them? They didn't do anything to him, he was the one who caused the deep cut on their forehead, why did they have to get shouted out and left behind again? The sky was dark and the air was cold, y/n couldn't take this anymore, what gave the right for people to take their anger out on them? They got up and turned towards the woods, retracing their steps back to the clearing. They arrived after 10 minutes of walking through the forest and hopping over fallen trees, they sat down on the grass feeling the wind breeze past their skin, making a shiver run down their spine.

It felt like hours y/n has been sitting there in the cold, their body felt numb, nothing unusual to them. The sky was pitch black, a few star scattered here and there, the silence was relaxing until y/n heard snarling behind them. They turned their head slowly, the black wolf from earlier was right in front of them. Heart racing, y/n put their hands up to show they were not a threat, but the wolf didn't seem to care. It started to edge closer and closer to them, bearing it's teeth, growls could be heard from deep inside it's chest. Y/n stopped caring at this point, they sat back on the grass and closed their eyes waiting for the end to come, but it never did. They opened their eyes once again, the sight they were met with surprised them, the black wolf lay beside them. Without hesitation, y/n raked their fingers through it's fur, earing a soft grunt. A few minutes later, the wolfs head snapped up hearing a howl near them, it howled back signally where it was. After a couple seconds, a pack of wolves walked into the clearing, a few of them snarling at y/n beside the black wolf. They were surprised when the young person ignored them and continued to play with the fur of the black wolf.

Moments later, the whole pack were now spread out around y/n, all laying down on the grass. They didn't know why but they felt safe in the presence of the pack, y/n loved wolves they used to have an Alaskan Malamute when they were little, his name was Oslo and he was the closest thing to ever having a wolf. They missed him. Tiredness washed over y/n, they lent their head on one of the wolves, cuddling closer to it in hopes of staying warm. Soon enough, they fell into a deep slumber, dreaming about playing in the rain when they were younger. The wolves looked at each other, none of them understanding why this young person wasn't scared of them or why they felt so comfortable in their presence. They decided it would be a good idea to get y/n to some place safe and warm so they didn't freeze to death.

Y/n woke up in a warm bed, loud chatter could be heard outside the room. They didn't care that much waking up in a random place, it already happened before and they met Jacob and his father because of it. Y/n remembered what happened the night before, sadness engulfing them, Edward Cullen mustn't like them if all he could do was shout at them and hurt their feelings. Y/n didn't realise the bedroom door opened, feeling the bed dip woke them up from their trance, looking over at the person who sat down on the bed and noticed it was Jacob. His hair was no longer long, it was cut close to his head and he was muscular. A tattoo on Jacob's bicep caught their attention, did he always have that? Y/n brushed the thought away. The young boy looked happier, there was a twinkle in his eyes, one that they had never noticed before.

Jacob smiled at y/n, happy to see them awake. The cut on their head had now been cleaned and bandaged, him and the pack worried they would get an infection so they did the best they could to clean it and made sure nothing got into the open wound. "How you feeling?" Y/n's head was throbbing, it was an ache under their skull, it felt like it was tearing their head in half. Jacob noticed the discomfort, he handed them painkillers and a glass of water, they said a soft thank you to the boy and swallowed the medication, drinking the rest of the water in the glass. Jacob took the glass from their hands, getting up off the bed and walking out of the room with y/n trailing behind him.

They walked into the kitchen, a bunch of boys sat at the dining table scoffing down food like they were animals, y/n cringed at the mess they were making. The boys still hadn't noticed y/n in the room, until an older man coughed, making their heads snapped up and stop what they were doing. Their eyes trained on y/n, all the boys could think about was how pretty they were, even with a bandage on their forehead they all still thought y/n was beautiful. "I'm Sam, Sam Uley. This is Emily, Jared, Paul, Embry, Seth, Leah, Quil and I guess you have already met Jacob." Sam was a middle aged man with tanned skin, dark brown eyes and short hair cut close to his head. Y/n noticed he had the same tattoo as Jacob, they all did. Sam noticed y/n's eyes scanning across their faces, trying to remember what they all looked like. Before anyone could talk, Emily placed down a plate of food on the table, gesturing for y/n to sit down and eat. They smiled at Emily, thanking her for the food. Digging in, y/n released a sigh of contentment, Emily's cooking filling them with warmth.

Everyone had finished eating about an hour ago, they were all now outside enjoying the sunny weather Forks had finally greeted them with. Paul and Embry were play fighting, they acted like they were brothers. Jacob and Sam were talking about something, y/n couldn't figure out what it was about. Loud shouting grew the attention of everyone around, Embry must've said something to set Paul off, he was breathing heavily and his body was shaking uncontrollably. Y/n's eyes grew wide, were they about to witness Paul beating Embry up? Their train of thought was interrupted when Paul morphed into a dark silver furred wolf. They couldn't process what was happening but what they did know was to get Paul to calm down so he could go back to his normal form.

Y/n slowly walked over to Paul in his wold form, hands in sight to show they weren't going to hurt him. The shouts of Sam and Jacob could be heard from behind them, telling them to get away from him or they will get hurt but right now, in this moment, all y/n saw was a vulnerable wolf needing someone to calm him down. Pearly white teeth snarled at them, dark eye squinting at them watching their every move. Y/n sat down in front of Paul, guiding him to do the same. Their eyes were pretty, Paul could get lost in them for hours and not care about anything he had missed out on. A hand raked through his fur ever so softly, he nuzzled into them feeling safe in their company. The rest of the pack stood their in shock, who would have thought big, scary Paul Lahote would break down his barriers and defensive nature for a person he had only spent an hour with.

After 10 minutes of sitting on the ground with Paul's head nuzzled into y/n's lap, Sam walked over and told y/n to cover their eyes as Paul would be stark naked when he changes back. They nodded understanding what Sam said, a pink hue colouring their cheeks. A couple minutes later, y/n left a shift of weight move off of them, knowing it was Paul they kept their eyes covered in case he had changed back, not wanting to invade his privacy. A tap on their shoulder makes them remove their hands from over their eyes, Jacob now crouched down in front of y/n. "I have questions about what just happened.." Jacob nodded his head and grabbed their hands and pulled them up off the ground, leading them away from everyone so he could explain what had just happened.

Y/n now understood everything perfectly, Jacob and the rest of them were shapeshifters, they were the wolves from last night. It was confusing at first hearing Jacob try to explain everything as best as he could but after some time, y/n caught onto what he was trying to say. They were also told about the Cullens, them being vampires, or cold ones as Jake called them, wasn't much of a surprise but it hurt not being told that by the people that mattered to most to them. Now last night makes more sense to y/n, why Edward acted the way he did, their blood made him lose control. Y/n felt bad for assuming Edward purposely acted that way to hurt them, a sigh left their lips as they thought about going back to the Cullen house to check on Edward.

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7 complete !! I hope you enjoy the chapter :) Have a lovely day/night !!!

New chapters will be out tomorrow, maybe later today if I have the spare time to write and publish a couple more.

MASTERLIST CULLENS

[morpholomeg]

I love ur Morphology series, it’s one of my fav daemon AUs. I was wondering if you could tell us ur headcanon for each of the Avengers daemons? Even the ones that aren’t written like Thor and Bruce?

And if ur ever inspired to keep writing- I’ll definitely be reading!

Confession: part three of the trilogy (yes, it was originally a trilogy) was going to be a rewrite of Avengers Assemble and I wrote so. much. of it. I think I've got about 10k of it done, but I haven't touched it in absolute years.

Given that the chances of me ever finishing it are... next to nil, have a snippet for each of the Avengers about their daemons:

Steve:

In a classified location somewhere near Greenland, a woman and her dæmon sat in a truck, freezing.

“All I’m saying is that they shouldn’t have sent people with cold-blooded dæmons to the damn North Pole.”

Alison sighed. “Shut up, Logas.”

The lizard stuck his head out of the top of her coat to poke his tongue out at her, then quickly decided this was a bad move and ducked back down to take advantage of her body heat.

“How long do we have to be here?” he whined, his voice muffled.

Alison wasn’t particularly enjoying herself either, but when someone told you that you were on a mission to finally bring Captain America’s body home, it was kind of hard to say no. At least she wasn’t out on the ice, digging. Those guys all had big useful dæmons like huskies. Alison was just the mortician, with a useless, whiny tree lizard to keep her company as they waited to have something to do. Still, this was important, and at least it made a change from the monotony of her autopsy lab back in New York.

She was about to tell Logas something along those lines when she became aware of the raised voices outside. “Wait, I think they’ve found him.”

She got out of the truck, wincing as she did so and wishing she’d kept moving around. There was real commotion now, people yelling and running around.

“What’s happening?” Alison shouted, moving towards the plane where it poked out of the ground. “Agent Beckett?”

Beckett was staggering away from the plane, and Alison would have bet decent amounts that if it weren’t for the wind burn on his cheeks he would have been white as a sheet. His dæmon, an Arctic fox, was hopping up at his knees.

“Agent Beckett, are you alright?” Alison asked.

His eyes refocused on her. “Agent Newbury. Tell me you’ve got actual medical training.”

She blinked. “Yeah, I just got fed up of patients dying on me. Why, someone hurt?”

“We found his dæmon in the ice,” Beckett said.

Alison stared. That sentence just didn’t compute. “His dæmon - you mean Captain America’s dæmon? But that means-”

“He’s alive,” said Beckett. “He must be alive. Shit, it’s been sixty seven years, and he’s alive.”

Alison took a deep breath and immediately regretted it as the cold air bit at her throat. “Well,” she said. “Guess I’d best make sure he doesn’t die on me.”

~

“Welcome to your new apartment,” said Agent Morse.

Steve glanced around. It was a decent, bland sort of space, much bigger than he really needed, although smaller than the cabin in the woods where they’d put him for a few weeks. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Sure,” said Morse. She was smiling professionally, and her bird dæmon chirruped happily from atop her shoulder. It made the facial bruising and the broken arm look weirdly incongruous. “So, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen/diner. Plus, there’s a gym in the basement, and the phone line and internet have all been set up - you know what that is?” she checked.

“They gave me a lot of books to read when I was recuperating,” he said. “One of them was called Computers for Dummies.”

Sigouria huffed at the reminder, and Steve saw Agent Morse look down at her. When he caught her looking, she ducked her head a little, but didn’t blush.

“Sorry,” she said brightly. “Just - your dæmon. She looks more like a husky than an Alaskan malamute.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment. Here we go again.

“She’s a Siberian husky,” he said. “I’m told that soon after I - well, apparently it wasn’t acceptable for Captain America to have a Russian breed for a dæmon.”

Morse’s eyes narrowed. “Alaska didn’t even join the Union until the sixties.”

“1959,” Steve corrected. “Anyway, the history books aren’t too clear on when they made the change.”

“You’re well-informed,” she noted.

“Like I said, ma’am, they gave me a lot of books.”

Books, a computer, and an internet connection. When Steve began to suspect that SHIELD had carefully limited his reading material, he’d felt frustrated until he stumbled onto the chapter of his computer textbook about search engines and realised that the internet couldn’t be limited. He’d augmented his curriculum with Google and Wikipedia, until he couldn’t face any more. The conflict with Russia. The interventions in Lebanon, Panama, Libya. War with Korea, with Vietnam, with Iraq, with Afghanistan.

And Sigouria rewritten.

In all the fiction created about him during the War, all the propaganda he’d helped spread, they’d never touched Sigouria. Sure, they'd talked about her, said she was a sign of the man inside. They'd had nothing but good things to say about Sig: a big, strong, dog dæmon, always the sign of the perfect soldier, even when paired with a scrawny nothing like Steve. She’d only become embarrassing during the Cold War, but that gave the American public a good long time to get it into their heads that Captain America had a perfectly North American dæmon. Morse was the fourth person to accuse him of being a fraud because of Sigouria. 

Her dæmon leaned into her ear and whispered, “Could be genuine.”

Steve smiled blandly. “If it helps either way, you should know that the serum gave me extra sharp hearing.”

She gave up the pretense then. “Look, Captain, you have to realise how good this timing is. SHIELD’s been encountering potential superheroes consistently for a few years now, and none of them are under government control. You resurfacing, just after the Senate pitches a fit about Stark, the Army about Banner, SHIELD about that whole crisis in New Mexico-” She cut herself off with a shake of the head, preventing him from asking for an explanation. “You turned up just when the country needed a clean-cut, well-behaved hero. It’s much easier to believe you’re a fake than to accept the idea that you were suddenly discovered in the ice after seventy years.”

That had Sigouria on her feet and moving in front of Steve, but the little bird didn’t falter, safe on his perch.

Steve didn’t know what to say. He fell back on a platitude. “Well, I’ll try to live up to that.”

Morse sighed. "I'm sure you will. And if you really are him, I should probably say - I'm sorry for your loss."

Steve's throat tightened as she left, and Sig growled at the closed door.

“Don’t,” he said. “She’s only telling us the truth.”

“And doesn’t that make a change,” Sig replied.

~

I don't think it's explicit in those snippets - Sigouria was frozen just slightly too far away from Steve, resulting in the same sort of stretching that Natasha was forced to undergo as a child. That, coupled with waking up in the future, is inducing pretty serious depression in Steve. Poor love. Sigouria comes from the Greek for confidence/safety.

~

Bruce:

The man who arrived at the hut was not charitable to Natasha. He was wary, and wily with it, and his capuchin dæmon fidgeted constantly, swinging up to Banner’s neck and then skittering down to the floor again, staying way back from Cassum. When Natasha brought up an image of the Tesseract on her phone, Banner took it easily enough, but the monkey screeched as it came too close to the threat.

“So Fury isn’t after the monster?” Banner asked.

Natasha smiled. “Not that he’s told me.”

“And he tells you everything?”

Oh, he was good. Untrained, but any cornered animal would bite back. Natasha pointedly did not glance at Cassum. “Talk to Fury, he needs you on this.”

Banner moved forward. “He needs me in a cage?”

Cassum was quivering; Natasha could feel it. “No one’s gonna put you in a-”

“Stop lying to me!”

In the blink of an eye, Natasha had a gun aimed directly between his eyes, and Cassum was a cheetah, poised and bristling, trembling.

The little monkey screeched again in alarm, but Banner just moved back a little. He was almost laughing, looking at Cassum with greed, curiosity, utterly fearless. “So, are you a science experiment too?”

Natasha didn’t say anything; nor did she lower her gun.

“I’m sorry, that was mean. I just wanted to see what you’d do.” His eyes flicked between her and Cassum, and then back again. “Fight and flight both.”

Natasha relaxed her grip slightly. “I like to cover my bases.”

Banner smiled. “So do I. Why don’t we do this the easy way, where you don’t use that and the other guy doesn’t make a mess? Okay, Natasha?”

Patronising. Informal. Still testing her. She raised a hand to the comm concealed under her hair. “Stand down, we’re good here.”

And now Banner was truly amused. “Just you and me?”

Natasha breathed out slowly, aware that it was a tell. “I like to cover my bases.” The monkey was edging closer to Cassum, who stayed stock still. “So, Bruce. Are you coming with us?”

“You understand that I’ll run at the slightest provocation,” he said.

Natasha nodded. “We’ll do our best not to provoke you. Or him.”

The capuchin was inches away from Cassum, who finally stepped back. The monkey chittered in triumph and scrambled back towards Banner.

Natasha smiled. “Well. Shall we?”

And Hulk:

“I’m okay,” Natasha said. She swallowed to wet her throat, and then looked across at Bruce Banner, and that goddamn capuchin dæmon. “We’re okay, right?”

But Banner’s pain was inscribed clearly on his face, and the dæmon was screeching. Cassum became a husky, startlingly like Rogers’s dæmon, and slowly, carefully, began shifting the debris off of Natasha’s trapped body.

“Doctor…” No response, no use appealing to dignity, too far gone. “Bruce, you gotta fight it. This is just what Loki wants.” No response, logic no longer helpful. “We’re gonna be okay, listen to me.”

Two agents were coming up to check on them, but Thea was on it. “Go! Go!” she hissed.

The monkey screamed at her.

“We’re gonna be okay, alright?” Natasha continued, knowing the desperation was bleeding through. “I swear on my life, I will get you out of this, you will walk away, and-”

“Your life?!”

“Bruce,” she said, but it was too late.

"Thea, go!" Natasha yelled. "Get out now, go to Coulson!"

The man was roaring as he became the monster, but his dæmon screamed, a high-pitched sound that deepened as the monkey grew. It writhed in agony - or so Natasha supposed - and this was bizarre, this was a twisted mockery of how dæmons were supposed to change. This dæmon did not flick from one form to the next, but tore itself apart in order to expand. Its fur darkened until it was pitch black, and two tusks pushed themselves out of the lower jaw, forcing the face to distort until it looked more like a gorilla. The tail retracted, but not fully, leaving a stump extending from the base of its spine.

Did this thing understand the great taboo? Or would it tear Natasha apart before Banner even had to get himself free of the wreckage pinning them both down?

And then with one last great shove, Cassum had her free, and they were pelting away.

I never quite settled on a name for Bruce's daemon - I felt that what with his self-hatred, he probably never addressed his daemon out loud, so I didn't really need to know a name. I was leaning towards male gender.

~

Tony & Pepper (the scene where Coulson visits the Tower - Thea was not affected by Loki possessing Clint, so she's tagging along):

"Security breach," Stark blurted, but Potts was already coming forward as they left the elevator.

"Phil, hi," she said with a smile. Her bird dæmon fluttered down to greet Alevrie but jerked back and chirped in alarm when he saw Thea. Potts' smile faltered. "And, um."

"Ms Potts, this is Thea," Coulson said smoothly. "Thea, Pepper Potts, CEO Stark Industries."

"Tony Stark, Iron Man," Stark butted in. "Great, we all know each other, so now I can ask what the hell, Agent?"

Thea was watching Potts' dæmon. A northern lapwing, she thought, and clearly very unsettled. He was edging back towards his human, unlike Stark's dæmon, a margay, who was growling and baring her teeth, almost pulling Stark forward as she stalked towards the intruders.

"Thea is the dæmon of a trusted agent," said Coulson. "Mr Stark, you need to get up to speed on our current situation; we're bringing you in."

He tried to hand him a tablet, but Stark lifted his hands and stepped back. "No, you're not. Firstly, I thought you didn't want me in your little boyband-"

"The Avengers Initiative?" Potts said faintly, before catching herself. "Not that I know anything about that."

"-said I didn't play well with others-"

"That bit I did know," Potts remarked.

"-and secondly, can we get back to the trained rabbit?"

"Jackrabbit," Thea corrected.

The lapwing let out a weak chirp and flew up to Potts' shoulder, but the margay sprang forwards with claws unsheathed, only stopping a couple of feet away from Thea. Thea stood her ground, aware of Alevrie tensing.

"So you are a dæmon," Stark said, fixing her with an intense stare.

Thea's nose twitched. "Sure am."

Potts had her free hand held to her mouth. "Sorry," she said. “We're being awfully rude.”

“We are?”

"If we can get to the point," Coulson said, holding out the tablet again.

"I hate being handed things," Stark rebuffed.

Potts took a quick breath, plastered on a smile. "Well, I love being handed things, so let's trade." She handed her champagne glass to Coulson, took the tablet and then pressed it into Stark's hands, taking his glass in turn.

Once Stark got the tablet lit up and connected to his holographic displays, it clearly only took him a second to clock the image of Thea and Clint, but to her surprise it was the margay who spoke up.

“You’re Hawkeye’s,” she said. Her voice was coarse, somehow sharp, sort of like the way that Stark stared.

Potts glanced at her, but didn’t flinch again, so clearly Stark’s dæmon often spoke in her own right.

“Born that way, yeah,” Thea agreed.

“And look at that,” Stark continued, still pointing at the screen. “Our favourite Agent Romanoff with a wolf dæmon I distinctly remember her not having when she was my fake PA. Pepper, you remember Miss Rushman’s sleek little Siamese cat, don’t you?”

Potts looked ready to faint all over again as she moved to his side, staring at the screen. “You mean that wasn’t her dæmon? Is she-”

“Agent Romanoff’s dæmon never settled,” Coulson broke in, sounding as calm and diplomatic as ever.

“Impossible,” the margay snapped, but Stark snapped right back: “Improbable.”

Thea wanted to roll her eyes. “Find it kinda funny that there’s a video of a giant green monster up there and you’re focusing on me and Cassum.”

Potts looked straight to the Hulk, but Stark shook his head. “Human bias. Giant green monsters - completely alien. Muck with something you thought you knew - that captures the attention.”

“You might want to reconsider your use of the word alien,” said Coulson. "Our antagonist doesn't even have a dæmon."

Tony's daemon is a margay called Zoirotita which gets shortened to Roti (it annoyed his father no end that a daemon named for vibrancy got nicknamed after a flatbread). Pepper's lapwing is called Bahariko, which just means spice.

~

(Quick bonus Tony:

"Deploy. Deploy!" he shouted. "Roti, get ready!"

And there was the suit, finally, clinging to him in bits and pieces, encasing him, but Roti wasn't in position, of course she wasn't, she was below him, but what the fuck, why the panic, she was a cat -

She landed heavily but on her feet, just before Tony scooped her straight back up, tucking her under his right arm.

"I need to be a fucking bird!" she yelled.

"We need to revisit Iron Cat," Tony corrected.)

You don't know how long I spent wondering how Iron Cat worked.

~

Thor & Loki:

Back on the now-crowded jet, Steve was ready to settle in for a tense and uncomfortable flight, when suddenly Thor beamed.

“I know this one!” he announced. “Little Thea the far-hearing. Where is your other half?”

Steve shared a surprised glance with Sig, but Thea just shrugged. “Best ask your brother.”

Loki was no longer grinning, apparently adequately threatened by the presence of another Asgardian, but there was still a malicious glint in his eye as he looked at Thea.

“An easy target,” he said. “A man with half a conscience, half a spirit, who has to think through every decision he makes to check if that’s the human thing to do. What could be more natural for a man like that, than to follow orders?”

“That’s enough out of you,” Steve said, and Sigouria growled low in her throat.

Fortunately, Thor seemed to agree with him, turning away from his brother. “And what is your name, shield-bearer?”

“Steve Rogers. They call me Captain America.”

“And you?”

There was a pause where everyone looked at each other, unsure of who was being addressed, for Thor had not turned his head away from Steve. It took Thea stepping on her foot for Sigouria to speak up. “Oh! You mean - I’m Sigouria. Uh. Pleased to meet you?”

“And you, young wolf.” And - oh, this was getting stranger by the second - he looked next at Stark’s daemon.

“Roti,” the margay said. “And this is-”

“Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man. And you are really definitely not of this earth, I am gonna need to reread all of Foster’s papers-”

“Natasha Romanoff,” Agent Romanoff called from the front of the jet. “And this is Cassum. We’ll be coming up on the helicarrier in thirty minutes. Let’s save the conversation for when we’ve removed certain parties from the room.”

~

And just because it was going to set up the spin off I will absolutely never get around to, bonus Coulson...

Phil Coulson opened his eyes.

White surroundings. Medical of some sort. His whole body was stiff and weak. What had - where -

Tahiti. That was right. He had been recuperating in Tahiti - a magical place - after the battle. Loki. They had won, Barton was safe, Stark had flown a nuclear missile through a portal into some other dimension, another area of space-time… Why was his brain going over this, when he’d been recovering in Tahiti for weeks?

He shook his head to clear it, and sat up. Yes, this was definitely a SHIELD medical facility. And there was a nurse coming towards him, though not one he knew. He looked - distressed. Pale, eyes darting about. Terrier dæmon hugging his heels.

“Take it easy, sir,” he said to Phil. “You, uh, you passed out on the plane on the way back. Rough landing, apparently. Uh -”

“Take a break, son.”

Phil smiled. “Nick. Long time no see.” He sat up to see Nick striding in, dæmon at his heels, and the poor nurse scurrying out of the way and practically fleeing the room, the terrier scuttling ahead. “I’d tell you to stop scaring the juniors but I know it would do no good.”

“You’re damn right,” said Nick. He took the chair to the side of Phil’s bed, his dæmon sitting gracefully by his leg, tail swiping along the floor. “You don’t know how good it is to have you back.”

Phil smirked. “Looking forward to delegating all the dirty work to me again, sir?”

Nick laughed. “Wish I could, Coulson. You know we’re gonna have to redeploy you.”

That sentence took a couple of seconds to compute, but then it all came flooding back. Loki’s spear, the side-effect that only he had faced. This was why he’d been sent to Tahiti after all: to grieve, and to learn to live again.

“Of course,” Phil said, cursing his own forgetfulness. “Sorry, I knew that.”

“Don’t apologise,” Nick said roughly. “It’s only been a few weeks without her.” Beside him, the jaguar bowed her head. “Can’t expect a man to get used to losing his dæmon that quickly.”

[josiebelladonna]

black moon | kinkmas | day eleven

chapter title: “vision thing”

pairing: alex skolnick x fem!oc

tags: merman!alex

ao3 link | kinktober/sister piece “eclipse”

minors dni...

...

...

...

...

yeah ❄️💋❄️💋

While they were down in that mountain spring, there was a moment in which Christine had envisioned Alex as a merman. It was a fleeting moment, but she had nevertheless considered it. She pictured him with that long tail in lieu of his legs and his wet hair tousled over his shoulder: a mere image that had only just popped into her mind as she opened her eyes yet again, but that time, she had found herself in the front room of a small cabin somewhere.

She lifted herself off the mattress, and she took a glimpse out the small window over the head of the bed. Vast drifts of snow spanned the hilly landscape beyond the glass, while pieces of frost covered the outside of the windowpane itself, and she couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling of it all.

Christine lifted herself out of her cozy bed all the way. She was still in her long black underwear, and a part of her believed that she had no need to remove them, either, as she brushed her teeth and then sauntered into her cozy kitchenette for a bagel, a bowl of oatmeal, and a cup of coffee before she got dressed for the day. There was a part of her that wanted to stay in and be cozy in the safety of her home all day long, away from the bitter cold, but there was so much to do.

Her thick corduroy jeans over her legs and a sweater over her body, followed by her long coat and then her big black boots, and her dark hair in a taut ponytail at the back of her head, and she was dressed to kill for the day.

Another day of work at the sea laboratory there on the shores of Homer, Alaska. She had no idea as to how she had arrived there or how she had landed the job in the first place, but there was something so exciting about getting up every morning to observe and help out sea creatures on the banks of the southern Alaskan shores.

She stepped out of her cabin and she walked along the sidewalk which in turn brought her out of the workers’ village. The lab was a part of a warehouse, with large metallic grated doors to open for any sort of fallen creature of unusual size.

There was one entity that she had been studying up there in Alaska, and one that her colleagues seemed rather skeptical on terms of the existence of such a thing: merfolk, especially a merman with black and white scales and hair upon his head. She had only seen him twice before, the first time on accident while she was observing orcas and she mistook him for a small one, and the second time with intention to ensure that her eyes hadn’t fooled her.

This time, she wanted to catch him in the act.

The snow had covered the landscape, and yet, she could sense more on its way at some point in the course of the day. Indeed, as she reached the side door of the laboratory, a cold gust of wind billowed up and sent a series of shivers down her spine. She peered over her shoulder and she brought her attention up to the sky, the incoming gray blanket of clouds.

The snow was coming, and she had no idea if she would be able to catch that merman in the act.

It seemed strange to think about merfolk up in Alaska but she was nevertheless sure of it. She had seen him with her own two eyes, twice, and he had to come out to play again before the snow came in for the day.

The docks of the marina stood right across a narrow street, and she brought her rubber gloves, clipboard, and binoculars along with her. The first time she saw him, he swam with the orcas and then surfaced to the water above, to which she believed to be in the vein of a flying fish, given he was half human. She would have to catch him in the act

“Alright,” she muttered under her breath. She held the binoculars up to her face, and she scanned the choppy waters beyond the rocky jetty which lined the southernmost side of the marina. “Where are you.”

Christine scanned the horizon, followed by the waters closer to her. Like trying to find a needle in the haystack, that is until the next wave rose up down below her line of sight.

Something black loomed underneath the swell of the wave. Something black and long, and too long to be an orca as well.

His head emerged from the water, and she caught a full view of his face, placid and soft, as if he had been sleeping when the waves picked him up and swept him away from his hiding place somewhere in that particular part of Cook Inlet, or the Gulf of Alaska itself. His black hair matted on his forehead, but she made out the shape of the silvery plume upon his forehead. A black and white merman, in his truest sense.

And that wave dragged him all the way to the shore.

She put down her binoculars upon her chest, and she picked up the clipboard, and she hurried down to the weather station there at the shoreline to meet up with him once he beached.

She set her instruments in the cubby hole of the weather station, and she watched the wave form a crest with him embedded within. The wave swelled and crashed down onto the shore before her feet: at least he was there at the shore and not upon the rock jetty right up the coastline from there.

But his body washed ashore, as limp and listless as a piece of driftwood. Christine hurried down to meet up with him. He had no color in his face, but the gills on either side of his neck fluttered and waved with his way of breathing.

“Alex, you have to be freezing!” she exclaimed over the roar of the winds. He never moved.

He was still breathing, but he needed assistance. He needed to be away from such a harsh environment.

“Oh, my god,” she remarked as her eyes scanned over those smooth black scales. Smooth black scales in junction with the pale skin of his body, which in turn went with the black curls as well as the gray plume at the crown of his head. His fins were long, slender, and lacy, and his rudder fin spanned wider than any thresher shark that she had ever witnessed before then.

Snow bunny needed to put this boy in some water. And yet, since he lasted this long, she wondered if he could survive in the cold water tank back at the lab. Given she was alone there at the shore, she faced a rather daunting task of carrying him back to the warehouse. Another gust of cold wind swelled up and his little body recoiled at the feeling. He would die out there.

A literal fish out of water, and she knew that it was the cold clouds which hung down over their heads and bodies that brought such a deep shudder to his body.

Thinking quickly and with her rubber gloves firmly on, she stooped down before the merman, and she slid her hands underneath his beached body. With her knees, she brought him close to her body. It was difficult given he was much heavier than he really looked, but she managed to hold his head and shoulder upon her chest.

Christine let out a low whistle and she doubled back to the marina itself as well as the laboratory. It was difficult given the wind blew all around her, and the merman weighed her down, and there was a slight slope right outside of the warehouse itself, but something inside of her kept her going. She swore that she was to help him, come hell or high water, even if it meant that her knees buckled every so often and she wanted to take a rest. But the storm was coming, and this poor boy needed some assistance. This boy needed a hero in the form of a human woman who had been willing to put her body on the line.

At one point, she closed her eyes, and she let her own intuition guide the way up the very slight hill to the very crest. Though he was a merman, she had a tiny ray of a good feeling inside of her, that his heart linked up with her own, and that they were meant for one another at some point. She had to help him all the while he showed her the way, all the way up to the top of the hill.

Christine opened her eyes again, and she huffed and puffed from running so hard and so fast this whole time. The top of the hill entered her sight, and soon, it leveled out. It was agonizing, such that her legs burned from the running, but the end was in sight. The big heavy grated doors of the laboratory stood in her view.

With a loud grating noise, they ground open for her, and Christine bowed her way into the warm and dry spans of safety for herself and for Alex. The doors slammed back down to the concrete with a loud metallic crack! right behind her, and right as the snow began to fall outside.

Out of breath, she padded up the narrow metal steps which led up to the glass water tank for beached creatures, and before she believed that her chest would burst from her lungs and heart pumping and working as hard as her, she almost threw him into those clean waters. Alex landed with a hefty splash.

Panting, she bowed over the railing with her arms dangled down before her. She watched him below the surface, and those long black lacy fins spanned out from the heart of his long black tail. He genuinely resembled a thresher shark, and the biggest one that she had seen in years at that point.

“Come on,” she whispered, and he tilted his head down towards the bottom of the tank. “Come on, come on, come on—you can do it.”

As he tilted his head back to the bottom, she spotted his long black curls out from the sides of his head. A big black octopus which appeared to loom underneath the crown of his head.

The pale skin on his upper body blurred away with the wash of water all around him. When he leaned further and further back down towards the bottom, all she could see was the skin on his chest as well as his entire belly and a slight outline of his arms.

Still out of breath, she held onto the railing before her, and she watched him sink down towards the bottom of the tank like a big black and white stone.

There was a part of her that wanted to swim with him, to run her hands over his bare milky skin as well as those slick black scales, and yet she knew that water was freezing cold, only slightly warmer in comparison to the water of the harbor and beyond. The feel of her hands on his body to wake him up, but as soon as she thought about that, he extended his arms up over his head and he darted forth to round out the full backflip underwater.

His spine bent back far enough to where all she saw at a moment’s glance was nothing but a long black tail.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “My boyfriend’s a merman.”

He skirted around the base of the tank with his arms spread out from his body, and for a moment, Christine believed that he was in fact a shark straight out of the wild.

And then he darted up towards the surface.

His black hair matted down upon the crown of his head and shoulders: the silver plume over his forehead seemed to glitter under the pale white lights over her head.

“You feeling better?” she called down to him.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he replied, and his silky, round voice echoed over the oval walls of the tank. “Sometimes all I need is to dunk myself in a patch of water somewhere to jostle me awake.”

“Jostle you awake?” she asked, as she folded her arms over the railing.

“Sometimes when I’m asleep, I’ll bump my head on something,” he explained. “Happens to fish all the time. I’m half fish so it happens to me, too.” He knitted his eyebrows at the sight of her. “Are you a scientist?”

“Marine biologist,” she answered. “I was watching the orcas one day and I saw you with them. I told my colleagues about it and they didn’t believe me.”

“Oh, what the hell!” He chuckled at that, a big hearty belly laugh that came from deep down inside of him. “I love swimming with the killer whales, mainly because they go everywhere. I like to go everywhere, too.”

“Don’t we all?” she offered him with a slight chuckle and a little smile.

“How’d you know my name, by the way?” He squinted his eyes at her.

“I had a hunch,” she said with a shrug. “How do you like Alaska?”

“I love it,” he said. “I love how cold the waters are up here—it feels really good on my skin and I swim better, too. I love Hawai’i and the Philippines, all the tropical waters, but there’s just something special about the Gulf of Alaska, though.”

“Have you gone around the North Pole?” she asked him.

“Ooh, yeah—not often, though. It’s a pain in the butt to go up there this time of year because of all the ice, but once April or May rolls around, I give it a shot. The couple of times I went up there, I made my way around and I hung out in Greenland for a long time—we’re talking a year or so.”

“Always wanted to know what Greenland is like,” she confessed.

“If you like Alaska, you’ll probably like Greenland,” he assured her. “It’s good for a traveling merman like myself—I’ll say that much.”

Christine shifted her weight against the railing: it was funny to hear him say he was half-fish when he was obviously half thresher shark.

“Do you have a family at all?”

“I did,” he said, albeit in a gloomy tone. “Let’s just say I’ve had my heart broken a couple of times.”

“Aw.”

“And pretty recently, too.”

“Oh, man. I wish I could do something.”

He shrugged.

“What can you do?” he asked her.

“Put on a wet suit and climb in with you?”

“Would you?” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“I think I would,” she promptly replied, and with a smile on her face. “I am a scientist, after all. I want to study you.”

He squinted his eyes and cracked her a smile once again.

Christine doubled back to the nearby closet to change out of her clothes and into the snug black wetsuit she used while she waded in the pool. She kept her hair tied back as she put on her flippers followed by the small oxygen tank on her back and the goggles over her eyes. She adjusted the corners of the wetsuit all around her body once she returned to him and the edge of the pool. She would treat it like a regular scuba session as she crouched down to the pool’s edge and stuck one flipper-clad foot out over the cold water.

Alex was still emerged over the surface, albeit a bit low so his chin touched it. He resembled to an actual shark in the waters.

“Come here,” he declared.

“What do you say?” she teased him.

“Come here,” he declared. “Please?”

“Okay.” She snapped the collar of the wet suit and then she sat down upon the brim of the glass. She gazed down at him there in the tank, the water only a few degrees warmer than it was out there in the ocean.  

He liked it cold. He liked it as chilly as he could possibly withstand it, though he could swim in places that seemed much colder, like up above the Arctic Circle.

It was crazy, especially when she knew about those cold depths down below the surface. But she trusted Alex, however: she trusted him to the ends of the earth.

She stayed still there on the edge of the tank, and she stuck the breathing mechanism into her mouth. With her goggles on, and her gloves still upon her hands, she took in a gulp of air and bowed forth into the tank below.

The water and the tiny bubbles swirled all around her. The cold of the tank took her in its arms.

She opened her eyes, and there was Alex right over her head. His upper body loomed like that of a sea turtle, but she lowered her gaze to the middle of his body, to his full rounded hips and what rested in between there. Even as a merman, she could see that he had a major hard-on.

He lunged for her, and she darted back away from him.

“Don’t make me chase you,” he warned her with a sly look on his handsome face. She pressed her hands on her hips and she sashayed the shape of her body at him. He chuckled at her, and then he showed her his tongue.

Christine paddled away from him, but then he reached out for her to touch her body.

“Come to me,” he whispered: his voice crept over her like the winds over the ocean prior to incoming storm. The snow had already begun to fall outside of there, but the real storm was about to take place right before their eyes.

“Touch me,” he begged her. “I’m lonely and I have scars that can’t be seen. You took me to safety—I need you, my good human.”

She took a glimpse down to below his waist, and she recognized that long shape a mere few inches underneath his belly button, just out in the open as if it had no restraints whatsoever. She reached down and she ran her fingers along the shaft as it was there nestled upon his black scales. If he was healthy, he would have ejaculated for her: but he never did.

“You’re dry as a bone,” she declared through the flux of oxygen.

“I want to feel,” he pleaded to her, and he rested his hands upon her shoulders. His hands were soft and silken, even though he had been tumbled by the waves and the sand and the salt.

It was then she realized that she had to make him climax all to be healthy. She locked eyes with him, and she rested both hands on him. Though she had rubber gloves on, she could feel the tightness of his skin as if she was actually about to have a round with him. Indeed, she realized that the rubber served as makeshift protection.

She ran her fingers down his shaft, all the way to the tip, and she ran the tip of her finger around the rim of the hole there. She stuck her finger in there to tickle him, and he lunged back a bit.

“Ooh—!” He gasped at the feeling.

“There we go!” Christine declared.

She reached forth under the shaft, and she spotted the precious spot. She wriggled her fingers along the surface of his testicles, and she tickled him. He writhed from the feeling, and then he bowed his head, so his hair spanned out from the back like a bunch of kelp at the water’s surface.

She moved in closer to his body to better feel him: though she wore a wetsuit, her breasts brushed up against his chest. She kept her eyes locked onto him.

A human woman pleasuring a creature who was half-man half-thresher shark.

His chest rose and fell in steady succession.

She pushed her shoulders down which in turn spread out her chest for him. He closed his eyes; she fondled his shaft as well as his balls until she could feel something liquid upon the back of her hand. She took a look down, and she saw the pearly cum out the tip.

He parted his lips and a line of bubbles trickled out from his mouth like a line of cigarette smoke. He then took her by the hand, and he brought her back up to the water’s surface. The water spread over the crown of his head and smoothed down the silvery streak at the right side; Christine followed suit and she took the mechanism out of her mouth all so she could breathe.

He leaned forth and kissed her on the lips, like a pair of smooth ripe cherries right off the tree branch.

“Thank you,” he breathed to her. “I needed that so much.”

“And I needed that, too,” she confessed with another kiss on his lips.

“No one knows about this,” he told her.

“Not a soul,” she replied. “I always shower after I take a dip in the pool, anyway. What should I do with you?”

“Tell your colleagues about me,” he coaxed her. “Take your notes, write your report, show me to them. But don’t ever tell them about the encounter here. They needn’t know that you helped open me up after I had such awful experiences in the past.” He flashed her a wink, and she kissed him a third time.

“What’s past is prologue, baby,” she told him in a low voice. “Time to heal. Time to see and lick your wounds.”

[supremeuppityone]

Klaroline fanfic update: A Beautiful Symmetry

Working on a new one-shot for my Klaroline series, A Beautiful Symmetry. Here’s a quick peek:

Chapter 199: A ‘Reel’ Catch

           Caroline shivered in her thin coat, wondering if she should’ve stopped back in the small Alaskan village to get something warmer. But she’d stubbornly kept marching toward the harbor, anxious to get answers. Slip 101, 102, 103...she jogged past each one until her sneakers skidded to a halt in front of the enormous boat bobbing back and forth in Slip 110.

           She breathed a sigh of relief — Tyler’s boat looked like it was in one piece. Gripping the small silver compass she wore around her neck, she sent a silent prayer to whatever was listening to bring her good news.

           “You must not know how to use that thing, sweetheart,” commented an amused voice in a clipped accent from below deck. “Because you’ve the look of a forsaken creature who’s dreadfully lost.”

           Despite the chill in the air, Caroline felt a flash of heat as her temper flared. “I was navigating boats way before I could drive a car.” Slamming down her suitcase on the weather-beaten dock, she snarled, “I just got off a 13-hour flight with two plane changes, plus the world’s bumpiest ferry ride. My boyfriend’s been away for months and he should’ve been home OR AT LEAST CALLED ME BY NOW and I don’t have time for your grizzled fisherman bullshit! So, just tell me where I can find Captain Klaus Mikaelson and I’ll be on my way.”

           Heavy footsteps leisurely climbed up the ladder from the cargo hold, and Caroline found herself staring at impossibly perfect cheekbones with dimples on full display. Lips twitched in amusement as he said, “I stand corrected — your navigation skills are uncannily accurate, sweetheart. I’m Klaus.”

[officialhexrpg]

Magical Arts: March's Writing Challenge Winner!

For March, we want you to write a report about a real life keystone species. You must include details such as the name of the species, location information, characteristics of the species, food chain information, and why it's considered a keystone species. This is not a creative writing based task, but rather a communication and information based task.

3rd Place: jfs12

The Sea Otter

Characteristics

Sea otters are efficiently aerodynamic marine mammals, with dense, soft, brown fur that protects and insulates them against the icy waters of the Pacific Ocean. Their fur pelts make them extremely valued in the fur trade, and almost forced them to extinction in the 18th and 19th centuries. Their high metabolism and their warm coats help keep the species warm. They have a body weight of 46-62 pounds, a length between 21.5 - 51 inches, and a tail that measures between 5 - 13 inches. With four legs to move easily on land and a long tail to swim through the water, they are able to swim, walk, and manipulate prey. Sea otters are social animals, and sleep in groups, holding hands to keep from drifting apart.

Location

In North America, the northern sea otters can be found in the shallow coastal waters of the Aleutian Islands, South Central and Southeast Alaska, British Columbia, and Washington. The southern sea otter or California sea otter can be found in waters along the California coastline, from San Mateo County in the north to Santa Barbara County in the south. All otters prefer clean waterways, abundant stocks of prey, and banks with lush vegetation. Dawn is the best time to see otters, but patience will be needed. Look for signs that an otter is in the area- webbed footprints and small bones from their feeding.

Food Chain

Sea otters play an important role as a secondary consumer and keystone species. The northern and southern otters have a different diet because of their location. The northern sea otter preys upon sea urchins, crabs, clams, mussels, octopus, fish, and other marine invertebrates. The teeth of otters are structured to crush these hard-shelled invertebrates. Southern sea otters consume many types of prey as its northern cousin. These include sea urchins, snails, clams, abalone, mussels, crabs, scallops, fish, barnacles, octopus, worms, and squid. Both species capture their prey with their clawed paws and not their jaws. As predators, they help control the populations of food species, which affect the ecosystem as a whole. Their presence is a sign that the ecosystem is healthy.

Great white sharks are the primary predator of sea otters in California. Alaskan studies show that killer whales or orcas and sharks are eating more and more sea otters in that area, since their usual prey is seals and sea lions that are in decline. The Alaskan species have predators on land as well as the sea. Coyotes and brown bears prey on otters, and bald eagles have been seen swooping down and catching sea otter pups.

Keystone Information

Sea otters are a keystone species. As top predators, their role in their environment has a greater effect than many other species. Otters help maintain the balance of near-to-shore ecosystems, such as kelp forests, recesses in coastlines, and estuaries. They help control the sea urchin population that can devour the kelp forests that provide protection and food for other marine animals. By keeping healthy kelp forests, sea otters also help lessen levels of atmospheric greenhouse gas carbon dioxide, as kelp absorbs and separate carbon.

[rhysintherain]

Okay, I think I solved the mystery of where Pixie got her definitely not border collie or light colored floof color pattern.

I was trying to figure out where she got her other unexplained trait (a very obvious curly tail) and ended up finding a breed that explains both the tail and the coat pattern.

So I think she's part Alaskan malamute? The color pattern is a near exact match:

Except for the very border collie white tip on her tail.

For comparison, the best picture I could get of Pixie's coat pattern:

Right down to the light color inside the ears and the stripe of white along the bottom of her tail.

Anyway, this means I'm definitely teaching her to skijor once she's full-grown.