#°Dret drawing°

[sheshkastudios]

I sure hope nothing bad happens to one of my OCs

Also 🪱 and 🧍‍♂️📦 need names

[denissouilla]

Carrer del drets. @disneylexya #valencia #streetart #urbanart #murals #streetartvalencia #streetarteverywhere #graffiti #streetartphotography #drawing (à València) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTzgkNCI5Ya/?utm_medium=tumblr

[strongenoughfoundation-blog]

Postcards to You (Portugal/Spain)

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: Your post graduation gift to yourself is a three month backpacking trip through Europe trip. Lin is staying behind because In The Heights is starting to finally take off but you make sure to keep in contact.

Word Count: 1,222

Warnings: Shaky Spanish translation, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Next part to Postcards to You! As always, a slow burn friends to lovers fic. I purposely didn’t translate the Spanish for you...tension building, you know how it goes.

As always, thank you to my partner in crime @l-nmanuel for being absolutely wonderful and for the postcard. And thank you to the lovely @gratitudejoyandsorrow for yelling nice things at me and coming up with the Little Mermaid reference. You guys are the best!

Previous Chapter||Next Chapter ____________________________

Greetings from Madrid!

My “obsessive planning” turned out to be a good thing after all, didn’t it Lin-Manuel? The letter you sent to my hotel was waiting for me at the front desk the very first day I got there. I’ve never been so excited to see your messy handwriting.

The lyrics you sent me were amazing, you’re so lucky to have someone like me around to be your muse ;) I can’t wait to hear them straight from your mouth, I’m sure you wrote a beautiful melody to accompany it. It was sweet of you to let me feel like I’m still apart of the process. I hope you haven’t found someone to replace me in our walks through the park - but I guess I don’t like the thought of you being all alone either. Maybe get a dog?

Lisbon was beautiful. You’d love the atmosphere. I visited a lot of convents and cathedrals while I was there. It probably wasn’t the most thrilling part of the trip so far but it was definitely one of the more interesting. The architecture was stunning and the beaches were nice. All the street food is fish, I tried octopus the day before I left. You’d hate it. I did.

My first day here in Madrid I went to the Rastro Flea Market and it’s the most beautifully organized chaos I’ve ever seen. Booths are packed in side by side and they’ve filled every inch of them with thingamabobs. I couldn’t even begin to describe what they were selling except for just... a lot. Picture an above ground version of Ariel’s world. 

There was so much yelling and excitement, and live music poured through the streets. I never figured out where from but you could hear it everywhere. Everyone was dancing or swaying, the beat begged you to.

I’ve also never been more grateful for the Spanish that you taught me Sophomore year. The vendors were much friendlier when they saw I was trying. A lot of them would offer me little Spanish lessons as we spoke. I bet by the time I come back I’ll be able to speak it better than you. If I come back that is. Haha just kidding, I miss you too much to stay.

This morning I went for a walk through El Retiro Park after breakfast just to stop and smell the roses for a while but it just drowned me in melancholy. All I could think about was how I should be sharing this near perfect morning with you. Why do I let it go so long before I call?

The point of all of this whining is that absence does make the heart grow fonder. I hope all is well with Heights. I’ll call you when I get to Barcelona.

Con todo mi afecto x

[Y/N]

“You sound much happier than you did in your postcard.” Lin remarked, adjusting the phone to balance between his ear and his shoulder as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

“That’s because I’m talking to you.” you responded sweetly and Lin ignored the fluttering in his chest.

“I miss your voice. I know it’s hard to call regularly but how am I going to write a musical if I don’t have your laugh to inspire the melody?” Lin asked and your hand moved up to your chest to feel your heart pounding against it. You two were very rarely this outright affectionate. “What did you do for your last night in Madrid? Flamenco right?”

“Oh my god, Lin,” you started, your voice seeping with excitement. “I went to the Corral de la Morerìa for a show and ended up being one of the last ones out of there. One of the dancers taught me the basics to it. I have to teach you when I get back!”

“Someone must’ve figured out about lucky number three.” Lin chuckled.

“What are you talking about, Lin-Manuel?” you asked, your voice laced with suspicion. He could practically see your eyes narrowing.

“Three drinks. It’s all it takes for you to be willing to dance.” Lin answered and you could hear his grin. 

There had been many nights that Lin had been forced to drag you onto the dance floor of whatever party you two had decided to brave that night. Some nights though, after you had hit the ‘lucky number three’ as Lin put it, you’d be dragging him by the collar of his shirt to the middle of the dancefloor. Your arms would move his to your waist before they wrapped around his neck and you’d shoot him a playful smile. Your body would sway with his and you’d toss your head back and let out a laugh of sheer joy. Lin had spent a lot of the nights savoring your radiance as you’d pull him closer to you.

“You know way too much about me for it to be safe.” you surmised, drawing him from the memories. “I went to that one bookstore you were talking about. Laie in Eixample Dret?”

“Did you?” Lin queried, lifting the mug to his lips to take a drink.

“Yeah, I know that you wanted to go together but I needed to do something that made me feel close to you. I was only going to spend an hour or two there but I ended up talking to this one editor. It was less talking actually and more just me rambling about what you’re doing with Heights. He said you sounded like a genius. I told you it wasn’t just me that thinks it.” you concluded and Lin set his mug back on the counter, shifting his weight between his feet.

“You’re making that up.”

“I’m not. He even recommended some books you’d like. One of them I knew you read before but I ended up buying all the others he suggested so you have that to look forward to when I come home.”

“Sólo volviendo mi amor sería suficiente.”

“You need to speak much slower if you want me to understand.” you huffed and Lin only chuckled in response.

Lin startled awake, the vivid image of your smile fading in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop it from disappearing completely before he groaned, realizing it was a lost cause. The sound of your laughter echoed in his ears as he tossed the covers back and climbed out of bed. The clock read 2:37am but Lin ignored the numbers as he padded out of his room and towards his desk.  

He pulled his chair out and flopped down into it, letting it spin slightly before he adjusted it to face forwards once more. His hand swiped down his face as if he was attempting to wipe the sleep from his eyes before they looked up at his collection of your photos pinned to the wall above his desk.

One single picture sat on his desk that he wasn’t quite ready to pin up. It was a simple enough picture, one of a wall filled to the brim with thousands of different signatures and phrases. He scooped it up to admire it, flipping it over to read your handwriting on the back.

‘ La Sagrada Familia’s Lover’s Nook. Our names are somewhere on there now too! Here’s to forever x ‘ 

[huntertales]

Part One: Two's a Party, Three's a Crowd. (Free to be You and Me S05E03)

Useful Links: Last Part | All Episodes Word Count: 3,503. Warnings: Mentions of very light smut.  A/N: New episode! And it's acutally out like I promised myself. The very was beginning was sort of a little fun thing I decided to add in since there hasn't been many Dean/reader moments lately. It's not bad as you think, but skip over if you don't feel comfortable reading. I hope you guys enjoy!

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

A trail of clothes lead from the motel room door to the bed where you had been spending for the past half an hour. Your jeans laid abandoned on the floor along with Dean's work boots to keep them company. His navy blue jacket that was stained with a bit of the vampire's blood he beheaded from your last hunt, and complained the entire ride back of needing it to be cleaned, wasn't a lost thought as it remained draped over a chair. All Dean could think about was enjoying this moment with you, and getting you undressed. You felt a shiver run down your spine when you felt his calloused and rough hands slowly draw his grip around your hips away as they slowly glided down your thighs, enjoying the feeling of smooth skin against his own. You let out a gasp in surprise before finding yourself smiling against Dean's lips when you felt him grip your ass, pushing you closer for another kiss.

You and Dean had gotten back from a hunt almost an hour ago with the plan of just calling it a night. But one thing lead to another, sleep ending up becoming the last thing on your mind with the adrenaline pumping itself through your veins. Dean didn't waste a single second when you stepped into the room, both of you fumbled quick as you could of ripping off each other's clothes until you were left in a tank top you were wearing underneath a flannel shirt, with missing buttons after Dean got ahold of it, and your favorite undergarments. Dean abandoned his green button up shirt and shimmied out of his faded blue jeans after years of washes. Now he laid underneath you in his boxers and a black shirt, which you were desperate to get off of him.

You could hear Dean's music playing in the background from the music player that you gotten him back in January when you decided it was time to update him to the twenty first century for this thirtieth birthday. All though he would never abandon his most cherished cassette tapes hidden underneath the passenger side seat of the Impala, you made it a bit easier to get himself lost in the music, and fuss when you complained about changing the song in more than just the driver's side seat. But you couldn't find a single fault when Warrant's Cherry Pie came on full blast, Dean's lips stretched into a smirk as you sat yourself into a sitting position from his waist. 

“We forgot to lock the door In walks her daddy Standin’ six foot four He said you aint’ gonna swing With my daughter no more.”

Your hands reached down to grip the edges of your tank top to start taking it off, and while Dean was enjoying every second of this, he found himself looking away for just a second when he noticed something reflect in the mirror right across from the bed. He leaned slightly over as his eyes wandered over to the front of the room, presuming his mind was just playing tricks on him. But wasn’t the case at all, for there's a very familiar man standing in front of the bed.

"Cas?!" Dean yells on the top of his lungs in absolute shock. He quickly shoved you off of him and pushed you to the bed, he grabbed part of the motel sheets and tried to wrap them around your body, trying his hardest to pretend an angel hadn't caught them in such a vulnerable state. You feel yourself blushing the deepest shade of red a human could produce when you realize what was going on and what he almost had seen happen. Cas stood there with the most calm look on his face, with just a tad confusion of what the fuss was all about. "Dude, don't do that!"

Cas greeted the both of you with a nod, "Hello Dean, Y/N."

You pushed yourself into a sitting position and let out a frustrated sigh, knowing the peaceful night in you had planned out was ruined. You leaned forward and turned off the music, letting the room fall into silence for a moment. Kicking a foot out of the covers to get dret dressed, you stopped yourself when you realized your pants were near the front door, where Cas was. In order to keep this situation from being less awkward, you remained as you were.

"Hey, Cas?" You asked him, making the angel turn his attention to you. You twirled your finger around in the air and gave him a smile. A second later he seemed to have gotten the hint you were trying to make, he awkwardly turned to face the corner, giving you and Dean a moment of privacy. "Thanks, bud."

You got yourself out of bed and quickly scrambled to get your jeans off from the floor. You dressed yourself once more and slipped on another shirt buried in your bag after the one Dean had ruined laid too damaged for possible repair. Dean finished himself up by slipping on his green button up from the ground and began rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. "How'd you find us?" Dean asked, his hand subconsciously rubbing his stomach to feel the bones of his ribcage. "I thought we were flying below the angel radar."

“You are. Bobby told me where you were.” Cas answered. You let out a scoff and sat yourself back down on the bed. Cas fell silent for a moment as he began to observe the room, seeming to notice there was something off here, for there was one person missing. "Where's Sam?"

You wondered the same question yourself. The younger Winchester disappeared the same day after he announced the hunting lifestyle was too much for him in the wake of what happened. It was the only answer you had gotten out of Dean after asking him at least fifty times in the week since his brother's strange departure. Three weeks later, you stopped the nagging him, but you remained persistent at leaving Sam messages and emails, not quitting until you got a reply to know that he was okay.

While the constant worry of his whereabouts lingered in the back of your mind, you found yourself slipping into the routine of hunting once more. You and Dean remained You and Dean worked together on hunts like nothing was wrong. Sure you had managed to wrap up at least five different hunts without Sam's help, it wasn't easy. There was the lack of another brain to help with research, and another pair of skilled hands when the hunt went wrong on the slim chances it did.

"Me and Y/N decided to take that romantic honeymoon we've always wanted. Sam decided to take a separate vacation from us for a while." Dean said, explaining the situation with a tasteless joke to add some lightheartedness to the situation. He fixed the collar of his shirt and turned around to face Cas, curious for why he was here. "So, did you find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back, please?"

"No, I haven't found Him. That's why I'm here." Cas said. "I need your help."

"With what—a God hunt?" Dean asked, taking a presumption of where this conversation was going. "I'm not interested."

"It's not God. It's someone else." Cas answered. You pushed yourself up to your feet and raised your brow, asking him who. "It's an archangel. The one who killed me. His name is Raphael."

You fell silent when you found yourself becoming interested to see where this had to go, Dean, meanwhile, decided to crack a witty joke after hearing the name. "You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?"

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but Cas didn't seem to understand the reference when he continued on with the conversation. "I've heard whispers that he's walking the earth. This is a rare opportunity."

“For what, revenge?” You asked with a bit of of hesitance. "Word of advice, I wouldn't even try. You might get what you want in the scheme of things, but the consequences are totally a bitch. Trust me, I think Dean and I would know."

"No. Information." Cas corrected you.  

Dean scoffed at the angel's lousy sounding plan as he shook his head, "So, what—you think if you find this dude, he's just gonna spill God's address?"

"Yes.” The angel said with seriousness. “Because we are gonna trap him and interrogate him."

"You're serious about this?" Dean asked, Cas nodded his head a moment later. You glanced away from the angel and looked over at the hunter, from the look on your face, you seemed rather curious to see where this could go. "So, what—are we the three musketeers again, is that it? Are we just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?" The angel stared at Dean with a furrowing brow, seeming to, yet again, not understand the humor from the supposed joke he was trying to make. Dean rolled his eyes once more in frustration. "Give me one good reason why Y/N and I should do this.”

“Because you’re Michael's vessel, and no angel will dare harm you.”

“Oh, so now I’m your bullet shield?”

"I need your help, because you and Y/N are the only two who will help me." Cas tried again, but this time, you could hear the pleading in his voice from the resort he was put into. Your expression softened as you tilted your head to the side, one of the few signs that you were beginning to fall for this little pity party the angel was trying to show. Dean tried his hardest to disagree with the plan, he wanted to stay away, far away from any angel business. "Please."

Dean tried to keep his guard up for a few seconds longer, somehow hoping he could get himself out of this mess before it started. But you glanced over at him, and by the narrowing of your eyes, he knew there wasn't a chance you would let him get out of this one. Cas had done a lot of things for you, the least either one of you could do was return the favor. "All right. Fine." Dean agreed, knowing well enough he was outnumbered in this argument. "Where is he?"

"Maine." Cas answered. He reached up both of his arms, "Let's go."

“Whoa, whoa!” Dean backed away before Cas could press his two fingers against his forehead. You furrowed your brow in concern and asked him what was wrong. But his answer made you regret ever asking in the first place. "Last time I got zapped someplace, I didn't poop for a week. We're driving."

You shook your head from the information that you could have gone without hearing from the man for your entire life. You loved the man to death, but you had your questionable moments. "And the mood is officially gone." You muttered underneath your breath.

+ + +

Six hours later, a new motel, along with a change of clothing, you and Dean arrived at the police station in the late morning with Cas sitting in the backseat. You found this situation a little strange to have an angel sitting where you normally would, but Dean said it would be safer if he acted like a human, popping out into thin air wasn't exactly a good idea. The Impala was parked safely against the curb before you got yourself out of the passenger's side, your heels hitting the empty street as your eyes wandered to the police station that was just over the way. You tugged at your skirt and made the necessary fixes to your outfit like you normally did, Cas gotten out himself and slammed the door shut, Dean glared at him from how rough he was with Baby.

“We’re here why?” Dean asked, finding it rather odd to be starting the search off here.

"A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel." Cas explained as he circled around the car to where Dean was standing.

“And he still has eyes?” You couldn't help yourself but ask. Cas didn't answer, you presumed the conversation would be better if you moved onto more important questions. "All right, what's the plan?"

"We tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord. Then the officer will tell us where the angel is." Cas explained with the utmost serious expression. Yet, despite the plan he must have thought was brilliant, you found yourself trying your hardest not to laugh as your lips stretched themselves into a smile, thinking this was some joke. Cas, however, didn't find your reaction very appropriate. "Isn't this how you and the Winchesters solve cases?"

"No, Cas. That's how you get yourself a weekend stay at the mental ward in the hospital. You're seriously gonna walk in there and tell him the truth?" You asked him, Cas nodded his head. You let out a very quiet sigh as you shook your head. Reaching a hand into your pocket, you pulled out a badge for him and inspected it for a moment before deeming it just right for him. It was an old one of Dean's, but if the deputy looked pretty quick, it might be decent enough to pass. Cas asked why his plan wouldn't work. "Because we're humans. And when humans want something, really, really bad..." You reached out and opened up his suit jacket where you slipped the badge inside. But he couldn't walk in there like a man coming home from a stressful day at work. You quickly did up the top button of his shirt and fixed his tie so it was neat. "We lie."

Cas looked at you with a confused expression, "Why?"

"Because," You stepped back to take a quick inspection of him to make sure he looked decent enough. Before he could leave, you quickly buttoned up his jacket, thinking that was the final touch to make him look at least half decent. “That’s how you become president.”

Cas didn't understand what you were trying to say, but you didn't let him think too long about the explanation of what you had mentioned. You lightly tugged on his arm and nodded your head to start walking in the station to get this started. The three of you headed inside, and after speaking to a friendly receptionist up front, you found the deputy speaking with another officer.

"Deputy Framingham? Hi," You greeted the deputy with a friendly smile as you pulled out your badge for him to inspect it. Dean followed just seconds later, knowing the routine. "Grace Slick, FBI. These are my partners, Alonzo Mosely and Eddie Moscone." When you gotten the first part of the undercover cop done, you tucked the badge away and casually glanced over at Cas, wondering how he was doing. He just stood there, staring straight ahead at the officer, seeming not to have a clue of what to do. You cleared your throat and gave the officer a smile. "Also FBI."

Cas finally understood what the badge was for. You watched as he slipped a hand inside his jacket pocket, pulling out the fake badge you had given him, he flipped open the leather pouch, letting the officer examine the ID. But he wasn't exactly holding it right when you noticed it was upside down. You closed your eyes for a split second in embarrassment as Dean reached out a hand to quickly rip the badge of the angel's hand before placing it back in properly.

"He's, uh, he's new." Dean whispered to the officer when he noticed the strange stares. "Mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Yeah. Sure. Talk here, though." Deputy Framingham said, pointing a finger to his right ear as he walked to his office with the three of you following behind. "Hearing's all blown to hell in this one."

"That happen recently?" You asked, taking one of the seats right across from his desk.

"Yeah—the gas-station thing." He said. "That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Dean answered, cautiously clearing his throat to not appear caught off guard. He stood in the middle after Cas took the only available seat next to you. "Do you mind just, uh, running us through what happened?"

“Well, call came in—disturbance out at the Pump ‘n’ Go on route four.” The deputy said. You asked him what kind of situation it had ended up being for him. “Would not have believed it my eyes if I hadn’t seen it myself. We're talking a riot—full-scale. Thirty, forty people. In all-out, kill-or-be-killed combat."

"Any idea what set them off?" You asked the officer.

"It's angels and demons, probably." Cas answered before the deputy could. You could feel your gaze lingering away from Framingham and to the angel sitting right next to you from the response you warned him about giving. "They're skirmishing all over the globe."

"Come again?" Deputy Framingham asked. "What did he say?"

"Demons."

"Nothing."

You tried to brush off the situation as nothing, hoping a smile to the deputy would make him forget the situation all together, but Cas was persistent. Your fingers curled into a loose fist when he spoke right in sync as you did. You cautiously looked at him in the eye to give him a warning.

"Nothing."

"Demons."

"Demons, you know—drink, adultery. We all have our demons, Walt. Right?" You managed to roll this situation into one that you could use, hoping the deputy couldn't look at Cas with even more of a confused face. Framingham moved his gaze over to you, but his expression seemed to have stayed. "Anyway, what happened next?"

"Freakin' explosion, that's what. They said it was one of those underground gas tanks, but, uh, I don't think so." Deputy Framingham said, shaking his head. You gave him a curious look, wondering why he would think that. "It wasn't your usual fireball. It was, um..."

"Pure white." Cas said, finishing the thought for the man.

"Yeah." The deputy agreed. You looked over at Cas from his answer that could have gone horribly wrong, but you ended up rolling your eyes from his deadpan expression, for the angel didn't seem to understand the frustration you were feeling. "Gas station was leveled. Everyone was... it was just horrible. Then I see this one guy, kneeling there, real focused-like. Not a damn scratch on him."

"You know him?" Dean asked.

Deputy Framingham nodded, "Donnie Finnerman—mechanic there.”

"And let me guess," Dean decided to try and sum up this situation himself before Cas could. "He just, uh...vanished into thin air?"

"Uh, no, Kolchak." The deputy said. "He's down at St. Pete's."

Cas turned to look at you after hearing the response, "St. Pete's."

You forced yourself to give the angel a smile of appreciation to stop suspecions from being raised by the deputy. You slowly cranked your neck upwards to make eye contact with the man. Both shared the same expression as you shook your head. You sure missed Sam in situations like this.

+ + +

The three of you headed over to St. Pete’s to see if you could find this Donnie Finnerman and have a talk about what he had witnessed himself at the massacre. All though it was told that he had no physical wounds, the man you saw sitting in the wheelchair inside the hospital room was not what you were expecting. You furrowed your brow slightly when you examined his almost lifeless stare as he looked out the window. The poor man was almost a shell of his old self.

“I take it that’s not Raphael anymore.” Dean remarked.

"Just an empty vessel." Cas explained to the both of you.

"So," Dean examined the man for a few moments when a question lingered in the back of his mind. He hadn't thought much about it, not until he seen what might come if he said yes. "Is this what I'm looking at when Michael jumps my bones?"

"No, not all." Cas said, almost making you believe for a split second his answer was reassuring, but he wasn't finished speaking. "Michael is much more powerful. It'll be far worse for you."

You could tell Dean was unsettled from the honest response that he wasn't expecting. His gaze wandered away from the angel and back to the man sitting in the hospital room, he stared at the scene for a moment longer before he headed down the hallway, walking until he out of sight. You let out a quiet sigh as you looked over at Cas, shaking your head from what he accidentally had done without realization. It seemed the angel needed a better lesson about how lying can benefit people in more ways than just one. Sometimes knowing about a dilemma was far worse than hearing nothing at all, even if it was inevitable.

[aethir-scarax-blog]

The Workshop

Aethir walked through the doors into the workshop. It was alive with the noises of machines being constructed and conversations being had over designs for the tech the village has been trying to produce. He saw one working on the wiring of the device for the lightning tower.

“No no no no, no!” yelled Aethir as he walked over and smacked the wright on the head with his staff.

“What was that all abou… oh, hi Aethir.” sighed the wright, named Derek, “What’s the matter this time?”

“We can’t use just any wire to channel the electricity to the barrel!”, shouted Aethir, “You are trying to route lightning bolts through dret wiring!” Aethir knocked Derek on the head again. He ripped the wires from Derek’s hands.

“Well then, what am I supposed to use?”, questioned Derek, rubbing the lumps starting to form on his head. “We have nothing else!” Aethir considered hitting him a third time. “It is better to leave the machine unfinished than using wires that will overload and blow the machine up!”, Aethir exclaimed, wondering who let this man work on weaponry.

Derek started to open his mouth to replied, but Aethir shushed him and continued, “Conventional wiring with the tools we have right now is not going to work for the lightning tower. All the wires we have will not be able to handle the sheer voltage and amperage that will be channeled through them. There is a rare substance that I’ve found in prior world ruins that has a crystalline structure which will not only channel massive amounts of electricity, but can even amplify it. It’s called Fulgurium”

“Then where is it?”, asked Derek, looking around the workshop.

“We don’t have any. Besides the ioutum is all being used for the force field”, replied Aethir, looking at his glass tablet that displayed a list of what materials were assigned where. “The town democratically decided that the force field was more important than the lightning tower. Luckily, as I went around asking all the adventurers who went into the Valley of Sin, some of them said they had seen a substance that matched my description, but they were unable to attain it. We are planning out another expedition into the valley to gather more parts.”

“Well then, what should I do?” asked Derek, wincing a little as he hoped Aethir wouldn’t deem that a ridiculous question.

“First, I want you to study the book I created about conductors and wiring so I don’t have to punish you for using the wrong wires. Then I want you to study up on iotum and Fulgurium. You might need a bit of training in the regards of what materials to use, but I’ve heard you’re actually somewhat competent at circuitry plans, so I want you to draw a plan for the circuitry. I expect much from you, but try to not let your enthusiasm get ahead of you again.”

Derek smiled when Aethir complimented his circuitry planning skills. “I’ll be sure to do that.”, Derek said, heading off to the library Aethir had helped Jarent build.

Aethir strode over to Jird, the only noise being his staff striking the floor, as he was walking in mid air, using his metal greaves to float. Jird looked over and greeted Aethir

“Ah, Aethir, and what brings you here today?”

“I wanted to check on the wright’s and their progress in the machines we’ve designed. For the most part, I’m pretty proud how you’ve managed them”

“You must be if you’re saying it out loud.”, Jird laughed

“Don’t let it get to your head though”, Aethir replied with a stern look. “I just saw Derek trying to use dret wires for the lightning tower. You should be teaching what wires to use when.”

Jird’s expression darkened, “Aethir, I am already in charge of managing all the projects that we are currently building. I can not manage all this and make sure every one of these wrights knows every single skillset. We make sure and check all the machines after someone has worked on them, so no flaws should get through.”

Aethir huffed, looking sternly at Jird. “Knowing the power capacity of different materials is the basics of the basics! If you won’t do it, I’ll construct a lesson plan. All your wrights can stop what they’re doing for a 30-minute session once I get it ready.”, lectured Aethir as he “walked” away.

“Aethir that’s not necce-”, Jird yelled, before realizing it was hopeless. Aethir was a brilliant man, but 10 times too stubborn for his own good.