#ca event information

[inboundremblog]

Foxwood Neighborhood: Modern Comfort Meets Timeless Design

Credit: Image by Curtis Adams | Pexels

Get to Know the Homes of Foxwood Neighborhood

The Foxwood neighborhood is located in the friendly city of Moorpark, California. It is a fresh and elegant neighborhood with classic architecture and all the comforts of present-day life. This community was developed mainly in the late 1980s.

After the years elapsed, people who built houses there began to change their homes, adding or renovating them to meet the modern comforts of the contemporary world. Foxwood is more than just a home because it perfectly combines comfort, beautiful views, and recreational activities or sports facilities.

The homes in the Foxwood neighborhood are very appealing and show a mixture of traditional and contemporary structures.

These residences were erected in the late 1980s; thus, they are comparatively old, although many are in a good state through the homeowner making improvements for aesthetics and efficiency. This fusion has led to many beautiful homes with antique appeal, facilities, and amenities that make a home look like a luxury apartment.

Beautiful Landscapes and Hardscapes

Arguably, one of the most prominent elements that come with Foxwood homes is the well-designed and professionally done landscaping and hardscaping at both the front and rear. Such outside areas are planned meticulously to deliver aesthetics and usability.

The front yards of the houses are generally characterized by neat lawns, colorful flower plantations, and beautiful curvilinear walkways up to the doorsteps.

The backyards are also lovely and include open patio areas, suitable for setting up an outdoor eating area or barbeque. Side yards are also extensive, offering a hint of Californian freshness to a resident of the Sunshine State.

Pools and Outdoor Entertainment

If people like spending considerable time in their yards, many Foxwood houses have personal swimming pool facilities.

They offer additional pools, giving the guests a place for relaxation during the hot summer and, at the same time, places to play.

If swimming at night before bed in the morning after a hectic day at work or having a pool party with friends and family, the pools are among the most valued additions to the Foxwood homes.

Community Amenities

Fenced Pool and Spa

Besides the individual houses, the Foxwood community contains several facilities that are characteristic of the given lifestyle.

In the middle of the interior court is a fenced pool and spa for family members and neighbors to interact. The pool is perfect for families to enjoy their day, Splashing around in the water, while the spa is ideal for adults to relax.

Playground and Tennis Courts

On the other hand, sports people will get Foxwood's well-maintained playground and tennis courts for numerous activities. The playground is one of the most liked areas because children can play safely and find new friends.

Tennis courts are ideal for people who want to engage in a casual game or practice session. Facilities like these are easily accessible within the neighborhood; therefore, improving physical activities and outdoor games are just a few steps away from home.

Connectivity and Convenience

Accessibility to Greenbelt and Parks

Foxwood is well situated near an extensive greenbelt and several parks in the neighborhood. These natural areas are ideal for the residents to exercise by walking or jogging within the park or have something to eat in one of the freely available pavilions.

The greenbelt is also an attractively landscaped area that lightens up the neighborhood's appearance and sometimes can be a place of rest from the noisy and busy life.

Accessibility to Schools, Shops, and Restaurants

Another highlight of living in Foxwood is that the most critical needs of the commodity will be easily accessible. The locality is adjacent to some of the best schools, so several families with children live here.

Moreover, many shops and restaurants are nearby, which, in this case, are usually within a 10-minute drive, making it easier for the residents to source their basic needs and foodstuffs. If one has to carry out some chores, get a cup of coffee, sit at a restaurant, shop, or buy groceries, all are within walking distance.

Community Spirit and Lifestyle

A Welcoming and Active Community

Foxwood is a complex that can also be described as a community; people living in homes are proud of their houses and territory.

The cohesive neighborhood is exemplified by properly groomed houses, housing residents' active involvement in activities within the society, and, most importantly, the friendly and cordial relations between the residents.

From a weekend grill out to a holiday party, Foxwood residents find it rewarding steps to make new friends and foster a comfortable yet encouraging community.

Safety and Tranquility

Due to the decision in favor of safety, Foxwood is safe, and the neighborhood's design and layout will make people feel protected and calm. The streets are lit, and everybody knows each other—people's doors are opened to each other, and neighbors watch each other's backs.

Thanks to the calmness of the surrounding environment, Foxwood is a perfect place for family life or a comfortable retirement.

Real Estate Opportunities

Investing in Foxwood

Situated in Moorpark, Foxwood provides people who anticipate residing in the city with various real estate options that suit everybody's taste.

Foxwood offers every type of housing option, from simple one—to two-bungalow family homes to elaborate homes with facilities including a swimming pool and the most contemporary newly refurbished homes.

The area's mixture of traditional appeal and new features ensures that developers can build houses that meet consumers' demands for comfort and proximity to others.

Clusters and House Prices

The real estate market of Foxwood is very competitive due to the changes in the value of homes, which depicts the area's reputation and lifestyle. Building prices have steadily increased, so purchasing a property proves financially secure for the owner.

The main factors keeping Foxwood popular and selling steadily are its well-maintained homes, an array of facilities for residents, and its excellent location.

Foxwood offers spectacular living no matter how old or young you are; whether you are a family, an older adult, or anyone in between, you will be more than glad to live in Foxwood.

Get acquainted with the neighborhood by exploring our website at https://buyahomeinsimivalley.com/moorpark-south/foxwood/.

[deception-united]

Let's talk about foreshadowing.

Foreshadowing can add a lot of depth to your writing and make it more exciting for the readers. They create a sense of coherence and satisfaction when future events unfold as hinted—or shock if they don't.

Here are some tips for effectively using foreshadowing in your novels and books:

Plan Ahead: Foreshadowing works best when it's woven into the fabric of your story from the beginning. As you outline your plot, think about key events and revelations you want to foreshadow, and strategically place hints and clues accordingly.

Use Subtlety: Foreshadowing doesn't have to be obvious or heavy-handed. The best foreshadowing is often subtle and understated, leaving readers with a sense of intrigue and curiosity rather than outright prediction.

Establish Patterns and Motifs: Look for opportunities to establish recurring patterns, motifs, or symbols that can subtly hint at future events. These can be visual, thematic, or even linguistic cues that tie into the larger narrative arc of your story.

Create Tension: Foreshadowing is most effective when it creates tension and anticipation for the reader. Use foreshadowing to hint at potential conflicts, obstacles, or twists.

Reveal Gradually: Foreshadowing doesn't have to be limited to one-off hints or clues. Instead, consider how you can layer foreshadowing throughout your story, gradually revealing more information as the plot unfolds.

Pay Attention to Timing: The timing of your foreshadowing is crucial. Introduce hints and clues at strategic points in your story, building anticipation and suspense without giving too much away too soon.

Revisit Foreshadowing: Ensure that foreshadowed events are eventually fulfilled or addressed in the story. Revisiting earlier hints or clues can provide a satisfying payoff for readers and reinforce the narrative coherence.

Balance Subtlety and Clarity: Foreshadowing should be subtle enough to intrigue readers without giving away major plot twists too early. Aim for a balance where foreshadowing is noticeable upon reflection but doesn't detract from the immediacy of the story.

Let's look at some ways to incorporate foreshadowing:

Symbolism: Symbolic imagery or motifs can serve as subtle foreshadowing devices. Think about objects, settings, or descriptive details that can serve as symbolic foreshadowing. A recurring image or object, for example, might subtly hint at future events or themes in the story.

Dialogue Clues: Characters can drop hints or make cryptic remarks that foreshadow upcoming events. Dialogue is a natural way to introduce foreshadowing without being too obvious.

Character Reactions: Pay attention to how characters react to certain situations or events. Their emotions or responses can foreshadow future conflicts or revelations.

Subtle Descriptions: Incorporate subtle descriptions or details that hint at future events. These can be easily overlooked on a first read but become significant upon reflection or when the foreshadowed event occurs.

Dreams and Visions: Dreams, visions, and other forms of altered consciousness can be effective vehicles for foreshadowing—they can hint at an upcoming event, or explore characters' subconscious desires and fears. This method can sometimes be either blatant or subtle depending on how it is incorporated.

Foreshadowing Through Setting: Use the setting to foreshadow events or developments in the story. For example, a stormy night might foreshadow conflict or turmoil ahead, while a serene setting might signal upcoming peace or resolution. (On the flip side, this can be used to catch readers off guard, like a "calm before the storm" type of situation.)

Parallel Storylines: Foreshadowing can occur through parallel storylines or subplots. Events in one storyline can subtly hint at future developments in another, creating anticipation and intrigue.

Recurring Themes: Identify recurring themes or motifs in your story and use them to foreshadow future events. These thematic elements can serve as subtle hints or clues for attentive readers.

Misdirection: Foreshadowing can be used to misdirect readers and create suspense by hinting at one outcome while actually leading to another. (See my post on misdirection for more!)

Happy writing! ❤

Previous | Next

[xvysarene]

𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝔸𝕥𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “Why do you always have to get under my skin?” Words: ~2k Genre: Suggestive Notice: Mentions of wound, profanities

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

Halting at the top of the stairs leading to your flat, your hands tightened around the pocket knife you had begun to carry.

Your eyes scanned the swaying tree nearby, certain that you had caught sight of that damn crow once again.

Since waking up on the white sheets of the hospital two weeks ago, after being rescued from a kidnapping by a certain someone who seemed to vanish into thin air (again), you often caught the mechanical black bird at the corner of your eye.

Locking the front door behind you with a click, the familiar surroundings of your home offered a brief moment of comfort.

Until your eyes landed upon the man sitting on your couch. He sat there as if he belonged.

“To what do I owe this displeasure?” You sighed, not even questioning how he got in, though your door was accessible only with your fingerprint.

A small smirk played at the corner of Sylus’s lips. “It’s good to see your feistiness returning.”

“If you saved me and paid my hospital bills in hopes to gather more information, you’ll be disappointed. I have none.”

One eyebrow, a shade darker than his hair, arched at the unexpected accusation. “Is it so hard to believe that was purely my good intention?”

“I became a puppet in whatever beef you had with my kidnappers. It would be stupid of me to assume that you’d do a goodwill for someone you claim not to care about,” you said bitterly, the memory of the event happening a couple of weeks ago flooding back vividly.

“The great man Sylus can’t take it when someone touches his whore. We were just about to have fun, weren't we, darling?”

Sylus remained unfazed by your capturer’s mockery. One of the lifeless goons was still dangling from his grip, and he casually chucked it to the ground as though it weighed nothing.

If you hadn’t been watching his eyes closely that day, you would have missed the quick flick of his gaze taking the blossoming bruise on your cheek, the half-ripped blouse, and the cold blade pressed against your neck, biting into the tender skin.

“I don’t care about her,” he drawled. 

And not once did his eyes lock with yours. It was stupid to feel hurt by his indifference. You wouldn’t be there in the first place if it weren't for this heartless prick.

Yet his words stung deeply.

The feeling of the wooden door flushed against your back grounded you to the present, trapping you in as he silently closed the distance.

Struggling to remain undaunted, you continued, “You completely ignored me after manipulating me to gain information on the hunters who had begun meddling in your business—”

“I ignored you so those hunters wouldn’t trace you back to me,” he cut you off.

It took a few seconds to let his words sink in. “What?” You gaped.

“Your kidnappers were among the hunters you mentioned to me. They were not UNICORNS’, they were rogue hunters whose leader I killed. That’s why they were after me.”

He ran a hand through his face. “When I realised how unknowingly deep you were in this mess, I had to divert their attention away from you.”

His towering height prompted you to tilt your head upward. The ghost of his fingertips tracing from your cheek, down to the side of your neck, caused you to flinch in surprise.

“What do you think those lowlifes would do if I show even an ounce of care towards you?”

While the bruises had subsided, the scar from where the blade had grazed you remained.

A muscle ticked in his jaw seeing the jagged line. “You weren’t supposed to be involved at all.”

“A bit too late now isn’t it?”

His eyes darkened, an ember of fury passing through them. “I ensured they suffered tenfold for what they did to you, and only then did I end them.”

The sound of breaking bones and desperate noises from that day rang in your head. It was a blessing in disguise that your eyes screwed instinctively as the captor callously tossed you aside.

You didn’t even want to witness the horrors Sylus had done to them.

Your silence drew his eyes down to the pocket knife still clutched in your hand, now looking so harmless. Wouldn’t it be nice to be born with the Evol gene? Maybe then you could’ve protected yourself better.

“Are you still planning to stab me with that?”

“Depends.” Your chin lifted defiantly.

A glint of amusement danced in his eyes as he chuckled lowly, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

You hated your body for reacting that way. It was infuriating how effortlessly he could affect you.

“Why are you here then? What more do you want from me?”

“You,” he said without a heartbeat’s pause, “I want you.”

It felt as if the air had been stolen from your lungs, leaving you breathless.

Sylus was a big, red warning sign. Much like his eyes. And yet, when he locked you in that magnetic gaze, your brain short-circuited.

He’s got you spellbound ever since you first met him at The Nest, acting like a gentleman by saving you from the overly handsy drunk patrons, before worming his way into your life with calculated charm.

Every colleague had warned you about him, yet you still chose to dance with danger.

“You think you can just walk in here and take whatever you want?”

A slow smile curved the corner of his lips, leaving you torn between wanting to slap it off his face or kiss it away.

Maybe both.

“I can try, right?” His confidence was maddening, and yet, it drew you in like a moth to a flame.

Your mind screamed to push him away, to run, but your body betrayed you, entranced by the undeniable tension that always seemed to exude whenever the two of you were near each other.

“Why do you always have to get under my skin?” you were too breathless, too vulnerable for your liking.

He dipped his head closer, his voice a low, intimate murmur by your ear, “Figuratively or literally?”

The feel of his rough, masculine fingers at the nape of your neck sent your heart racing. 

Haunting reminders of them tightening around your throat, the pressure mirroring his relentless thrusts, would forever be burned in the back of your mind.

Oh, and how could you forget how those fingers always managed to find your sensitive spots, teasing and exploring with an expertise that was both exhilarating and overwhelming?

His hands knew your body as if it were an instrument crafted just for him, every caress producing a harmony of sensations that only he knew how to play.

As he repeated his question, daring you to answer him, you punched his firm chest. “Don't fucking play games with me, Sylus.”

“Who said I'm playing?” His other hand enclosed over your pocket knife, tossing it somewhere behind him. The clattering sound should’ve cleared your head, yet it didn’t. “I know what I’ve always wanted. You don’t know how hard it is to ignore you and not send every guy who eye-fucks you six feet under whenever I visit the bar.”

Underneath the surface of physical attraction and fleeting desires, there was always a complex connection between the two of you that couldn't be easily dismissed.

Those eyes, a deep, passionate red, always glowed with intensity when they fixed upon you, as if nothing else in this world could divert his attention.

As if he wanted to make you his, to protect and treasure with every fibre of his being.

“You're impossible,” you whispered, though it lacked conviction.

With a slight lift of one eyebrow, he asked you a question. So, what's it going to be?

He was a confident man. Direct. In no rush.

You should've felt ashamed when your hands moved of their own accord and tugged at his lapel roughly, but you couldn't care less when your lips met his with equal passion.

The familiar, distinct notes of leather melding with cedarwood enfolded you. As his big palms rested on your bottom, lifting you to ease the strain on your neck, your legs naturally encircled his taut form.

Feeling his thick arousal pressing firmly against your clothed, damp core was an exquisite torture, ripping a deep moan out of you.

Sylus devoured the sound like a starved man finally savouring a long-awaited meal.

His long legs carried you swiftly to the bedroom in less than ten strides, lowering your body onto the mattress with a surprising gentleness, though his lips revealed a contrasting intensity.

Exploring. Consuming. Desiring.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as he drew a map of sloppy kisses along the curve of your neck.

Until he stopped short at the spot where you knew the slightly raised scar from the blade was.

“I am sorry, I should’ve kept you close.”

The crack of emotion seeping from his voice startled you, forcing your eyes open to meet his crimson orbs already focusing on you.

A vulnerability he hardly revealed to the world softened the stern lines of his face. Swirls of yearning and fury were a turbulent mix in his pupils.

“I won’t let anyone else hurt you again.”

How could this man be so full of contradictions?

He was rough and tender.

Brutal and compassionate.

“Just because I don’t possess any Evol, doesn’t mean that I’m fragile.” 

The caress of your palm cradling his cheek prompted his eyes to drift shut. His lips grazed your wrist, where the skin, once raw and marred red from being bound, had now healed up nicely.

“But if you get hurt because of me, then I will never be able to forgive myself, amore.”

If hearing the familiar pet name tumbling out of his lips didn’t turn you into mush, the sensation of his big palm sliding beneath your shirt certainly would.

His warm and protective touch on your bare flesh sent tingles racing along your skin.

“Come stay with me.”

You weren’t even able to let out a gasp of surprise as Sylus discarded your clothes at such an admirable speed.

“For the night? In the N109 zone?” your voice was embarrassingly high-pitched as his silver hair tickled your sensitive skin. Each kiss trailed lower down your chest like gentle raindrops.

“Do you really think I would let you go after tonight?” A small bite was the punishment you received for asking such a ridiculous question. “Everyone knows how important you are to me by now, and I'm not taking any chances with your security. Everywhere, anywhere—I don’t care, as long as I can keep you safe.”

One of his strong thighs settled in between your legs. The fabric of his pants felt so amazing against your throbbing centre, heightening your desire with each agonisingly slow friction.

It was not fair how he had you under his mercy while asking such a serious question. Perhaps this was his cunning way of ensuring you would say yes.

And you were a lost cause, head bobbing up and down the slightest as you surrendered to his control.

“I need your words, amore.”

His hair was dishevelled, sharp features were accentuated by the city lights as he leaned closer to your face again. Ever so subtle, he pressed his thigh more unforgivingly into your core, driving you crazy.

Red eyes twinkled with mischief as Sylus enjoyed watching you squirm underneath him, delighting in the unfiltered lust flushing your face with each teasing contact.

Ever the insufferable tease, he slid his hand underneath your pants, fingers millimetres away from where you needed him the most.

“Yes, I’ll stay with you! God, you’re the worst,” you almost screamed in frustration as your hips bucked. Gasping, you felt those wicked fingers finally descend lower. “Now, talk less and do more.”

A deep hum of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as you felt his grin on your lips, complying with your request. 

“I am no God, but I’ll make sure you chant my name.”

He would damn well make sure that you two would be christening every corner of his living space—now yours—starting from the sleek granite kitchen countertops, to the plush rug in the living room, all the way to the balcony beneath the moonlit sky.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[my-castles-crumbling]

hey I love your work!! you seem like such a gorgeous, thoughtful person.

I had a question, and you seem trustworthy—Cas have you seen the new ao3 privacy policy? the one with another checkbox? what’s that about? I’m a little scared especially with recent events and the actual documentation seems a little vague. what do you think? I live in the states

I have, and I come armed with research!

For those of you who don't know, the new policy states:

By checking this box, you consent to the processing of your personal data in the United States and other jurisdictions in connection with our provision of AO3 and its related services to you. You acknowledge that the data privacy laws of such jurisdictions may differ from those provided in your jurisdiction. For more information about how your personal data will be processed, please refer to our Privacy Policy.

To translate, this means you are consenting to your personal information (IE: e-mail address and IP address) being shared according to US privacy laws, not the laws of whatever country you live in or happen to currently be reading from. This is because AO3 is US-based.

This sounds scary.

However, if you delve deeper into AO3 privacy policies, it says:

We may share Personal Information if we:

are legally compelled to do so;

have a good-faith belief that such action is necessary to comply with a current judicial proceeding, court order, or legal process served on the OTW; or

are cooperating with law enforcement authorities.

We will cooperate with all investigations conducted by law enforcement authorities within the United States when legally required to do so. Cooperation with law enforcement authorities from other countries and cooperation when it is not legally required are at our sole discretion. Our discretion looks favorably on freedom and justice, and unfavorably on oppression and violence.

Basically this means they'll share your info if they're told to by law enforcement, which has ALWAYS been a law. This isn't a change. I think they just added this to say "Hey, remember if you live outside the US, just know that we as a website have to comply with US-based laws because we live here, and things suck here right now!"

The last part of their statement is also really telling. The creators of ao3 believe in free expression and are not trying to get you in trouble or censor your work. You're not going to get in trouble for posting/reading gay fanfics. It's not illegal to do so. (If that changes, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it).

I think the most important thing now is to advocate for the necessity of websites like ao3, because some people don't like websites like that. I think this shows that there will be probably more opponents to websites like this in the future. But I don't think the FBI is going to come and knock on the doors of everyone who reads bedtime stories on ao3.

Honestly, Ao3 is more transparent about this info than most people. all websites can share any personal info you put in if legally compelled to do so.

[oakiyo]

oakiyo - All my Custom Content (2020-present):

Over the past 4 years of creating custom content for the sims I have made over 200 items. Since there are so many items and collections that I have released, and that issues are inevitable, I have gone through the majority of my custom content and fixed mesh issues, changed weights and maps, or just freshened up the textures and previews.

In this post, you are able to download all of my custom content (excluding content that I have deemed as ‘retired’ as I may not like the style or finished product of said item any more).

More information and download instructions are under the ‘keep reading’ button, or alternatively can be found on the download post on Patreon. Hope this is useful and you enjoy my content!

Download here + read more (Patreon, Free) | Twitter

Basic Information:

Hairs:

Base game compatible.

All have a shadow, specular, and normal map alongside correct LOD’s.

Select hairs are not hat compatible.

Some hairs come with an accessory or recolour file - found in the left brow ring category.

Clothing:

Base game compatible.

All have a shadow, specular, and normal map alongside correct LOD’s.

The clothing comes in different palettes, depending on the collection or initial time of release of the item.

Some clothing items come with a recolour file - found in the glove category.

Miscellaneous Information:

All items have been ordered chronologically of their release, in their respective categories in CAS and updated with the same catalog preview style.

I will update this folder at the end of every month/when new content has been published for public download.

Any content that is not included in this post means that the item has been retired. This means that I will no longer update it or provide fixes in the event that issues may occur. Please note that my Terms of Use still applies to any and all content I have released so please be respectful.

Each release of custom content included in here has also had the original custom content post updated (long overdue, I know).

Download Instructions:

You have the option to download an individual file or my entire custom content ‘discography’ via the Google Drive folder. Items have been organised by year of release, with collections and collaborations having their own folders. Below are download instructions should you need them.

It is highly recommended that you delete the old files. For example, any files with [oakiyo] or of similar variation, please delete. The files in this download folder are the most up-to-date versions, and so are less likely to have any issues or problems.

Download a specific item:

To download a specific item, right click the one you would like and click download.

Download the entire folder:

To download the entire folder or a specific month, you can do exactly the same thing.

If you enjoy my content and would like to support me and my work, you can do so via Patreon! I am endlessly grateful for all the support I have received over the past 4-5 years, thank you all so much!

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Beth Bourne

Published: Feb 27, 2024

Kaiser gender specialists were eager to approve hormones and surgeries, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.”

On September 6, 2022, I received mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminding me of a routine cervical screening. The language of the reminder stood out to me: “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” When I asked my Ob-Gyn about this strange wording, she told me the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of their “transgender” and “gender fluid” patients.

Based on this response, several thoughts occurred to me. Could I expose the medical scandal of “gender-affirming care” by saying and doing everything my daughter and other trans-identifying kids are taught to do? Would there be the type of medical safeguarding and differential diagnosis we would expect in other fields of medicine, or would I simply be allowed to self-diagnose and be offered the tools (i.e. hormones and surgeries) to choose my own gender adventure and become my true authentic self?

If I could demonstrate that anyone suffering from delusions of their sex, self-hatred, or identity issues could qualify for and easily obtain body-altering hormones and surgeries, all covered by insurance as “medically necessary” and potentially “life-saving” care, then maybe people would finally wake up. I certainly had.

I was prepared for failure. I wasn’t prepared for how easy success would be.

* * *

I am a 53-year-old mom from Davis, CA. My daughter began identifying as a transgender boy (social transition) and using he/him pronouns at school during 8th grade. Like several of her peers who also identified as trans at her school, my daughter was a gifted student and intellectually mature but socially immature. This shift coincided with her school’s sudden commitment to, and celebration of, a now widespread set of radical beliefs about the biology of sex and gender identity.

She “came out” as trans to her father (my ex-husband) and me through a standard coming-out letter, expressing her wish to start puberty blockers. She said she knew they were safe, citing information she had read from Planned Parenthood and the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH). To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was also confused because this announcement was sudden and unexpected. While others quickly accepted and affirmed my daughter’s new identity, I was apprehensive and felt the need to learn more about what was going on.

Events began escalating quickly.

During a routine doctor’s visit scheduled for dizziness my daughter said that she was experiencing, the Kaiser pediatrician overheard her father using “he/him” pronouns for our daughter. The pediatrician seemed thrilled, quickly asking my daughter about her “preferred pronouns” and updating her medical records to denote that my daughter was now, in fact, my son. The pediatrician then recommended we consult the Kaiser Permanente Oakland Proud pediatric gender clinic, where she could get further information and (gender affirming) “treatment.” Now I was the one feeling dizzy.

As I began educating myself on this issue, I discovered that this phenomenon—minors, most often teen girls, suddenly adopting trans identities—was becoming increasingly widespread. It even had a name: rapid onset gender dysphoria, or ROGD. Thankfully, after learning about the potential side-effects of blockers and hormones, my ex-husband and I managed to agree not to consent to any medical interventions for our daughter until she turned 18 and would then be able to make such decisions as an adult.

Over the past five years, my daughter’s identity has slowly evolved in ways that I see as positive. Our bond, however, has become strained, particularly since I began publicly voicing my concerns about what many term as “gender ideology.” Following my daughter’s 17th birthday family celebration, she sent me an email that evening stating she would be cutting off contact with me.

While this estrangement brought me sorrow, with my daughter living full-time with her father, it also gave me the space to be an advocate/activist in pushing back on gender identity ideology in the schools and the medical industry.

I decided to go undercover as a nonbinary patient to show my daughter what danger she might be putting herself in—by people who purport to have her health as their interest, but whose main interest is in medically “affirming” (i.e., transitioning) whoever walks through their door. I am at heart a mother protecting her child.

* * *

My daughter’s sudden decision to become a boy was heavily on my mind in early September of 2022, when mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminded me of a routine cervical screening with “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” I was told that the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of transgender and “gender fluid” patients.

Throughout the whole 231-day process of my feigned gender transition, the Kaiser gender specialists were eager to serve me and give me what I wanted, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.” My emails were returned quickly, my appointments scheduled efficiently, and I never fell through the cracks. I was helped along every step of the way.

Despite gender activists and clinicians constantly claiming that obtaining hormones and surgeries is a long and complex process with plenty of safety checks in place, I was in full control at every checkpoint. I was able to self-diagnose, determine how strong a dose of testosterone I received and which surgeries I wanted to pursue, no matter how extreme and no matter how many glaring red flags I purposefully dropped. The medical workers I met repeatedly reminded me that they were not there to act as “gatekeepers.”

I was able to instantly change my medical records to reflect my new gender identity and pronouns. Despite never being diagnosed with gender dysphoria, I was able to obtain a prescription for testosterone and approval for a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy from my doctor. It took only three more months (90 days) to be approved for surgery to remove my uterus and have a fake penis constructed from the skin of my thigh or forearm. Therapy was never recommended.

Critics might dismiss my story as insignificant on the grounds that I am a 53-year-old woman with ample life experience who should be free to alter her body. However, this argument for adult bodily autonomy is a standard we apply to purely cosmetic procedures like breast implants, liposuction, and facelifts, not “medically necessary” and “lifesaving” treatments covered by health insurance. Or interventions that compromise health and introduce illness into an otherwise healthy body. And especially not for children.

My story, which I outline in much more detail below, should convince any half-rational person that gender medicine is not operating like any other field of medicine. Based on a radical concept of “gender identity,” this medical anomaly preys upon the body-image insecurities common among pubescent minors to bill health insurance companies for permanent cosmetic procedures that often leave their patients with permanently altered bodies, damaged endocrine systems, sexual dysfunction, and infertility.

* * *

Detailed Timeline of Events

On October 6, 2022, I responded to my Ob-Gyn’s email to tell her that, after some thought, I’d decided that maybe the label “cis woman” didn’t truly reflect who I was. After all, I did have some tomboyish tendencies. I told her I would like my records to be changed to reflect my newly realized “nonbinary” identity, and that my new pronouns were they/them. I also voiced my desire to be put in touch with an endocrinologist to discuss starting testosterone treatment.

Fifteen minutes later I received an email from another Kaiser doctor informing me that my medical records had been changed, and that once my primary doctor returned to the office, I’d be able to speak with her about hormone therapy.

I responded the following day (October 7, 2022), thanking her for changing my records, and asking if she could connect me with someone who could help me make an appointment for “top surgery” (i.e., a cosmetic double mastectomy) because my chest binder was rather “uncomfortable after long days and playing tennis.”

She told me to contact my primary care MD to “get things rolling,” and that there were likely to be “preliminary evaluations.”

Six days after contacting my primary care MD for a referral, I received an email from one of Kaiser’s gender specialists asking me to schedule a phone appointment so she could better understand my goals for surgery, so that I could get “connected to care.” This call to review my “gender affirming treatment options and services” would take 15-20 minutes, after which I would be “booked for intake,” allowing me to proceed with medical transition.

This wasn’t an evaluation of whether surgical transition was appropriate, it was simply a meeting for me to tell them what I wanted so that they could provide it.

On October 18, I had my one and only in-person appointment in preparation for top surgery. I met in Davis with my primary care physician, Dr. Hong-wen Xue. The assessment was a 10-minute routine physical exam that included blood tests. Everything came back normal. Notably, there was not a single question about why I wanted top surgery or cross-sex hormones. Nor was there any discussion of the risks involved with these medical treatments.

The following week, on October 24, I had a phone appointment with Rachaell Wood, MFT, a gender specialist with Kaiser Sacramento. The call lasted 15 minutes and consisted of standard questions about potential drug use, domestic violence, guns in the house, and whether I experienced any suicidal thoughts. There were no questions from the gender specialist about my reasons for requesting a mastectomy or cross-sex hormones, or why I suddenly, at 52, decided I was “nonbinary.”

After the call, Kaiser emailed me instructions about how to prepare for my pre-surgery intake video appointment to evaluate my mental health, scheduled to take place on November 15. The email stated that prior to my appointment, I should research hormone risks on the WPATH website, and to “research bilateral mastectomy and chest reconstruction surgery risks and recovery” on Kaiser’s website.

I decided to request a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy and phalloplasty. Kaiser sent me a sample timeline for gender transition surgery preparation (see below) that you can use as a reference for the process. I also asked for a prescription for cross-sex hormones (testosterone) as needed and recommended by Kaiser.

[ Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]

Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part I

This “Mental Health Visit” assessment was conducted over Zoom. The Kaiser gender specialist started with questions addressing my marital status, race, gender identity, and other demographics. She asked whether I was “thinking of any other surgeries, treatments in the future.” The list she read included “gender-affirming” hysterectomies, bottom surgeries such as metoidioplasty and phalloplasty, vocal coaching, support groups, and body contouring. “Anything else you might be interested in doing?” she asked. I said that I’d perhaps be interested in body contouring. I was also assured that all the procedures would be covered by insurance because they were considered “medically necessary.”

I dropped in several red flags regarding my mental health to see the reaction, but all were ignored. For instance, I revealed that I had PTSD. When the therapist asked me about whether I had experienced any “childhood trauma,” I explained that I grew up in Mexico City and had been groped several times and had also witnessed men masturbating in public and had been grabbed by men in subways and buses. “I was a young girl, so [I had] lots of experiences of sexual harassments, sexual assault, just the kind of stuff that happens when you are a girl growing up in a big city.” “So, you know,” I finished, “just the general feeling that you are unsafe, you know, in a female body.”

The therapist did not respond to my disclosure that trauma could be the cause of my dysphoria. Instead of viewing this trauma as potentially driving my desire to escape my female body through hormones and surgery, she asked whether there is anything “important that the surgery team should be aware of” regarding my “history of trauma,” such as whether I’d be comfortable with the surgeon examining and marking my chest prior to surgery.

When asked about whether I had had any “psychotic symptoms,” I told her that while I had had no such symptoms, my mother had a delusional nervous breakdown in her 50s because she had body dysmorphia and became convinced she had a growth on her neck that needed to be removed. I told her that my mother was then admitted to an inpatient hospital for severe depression. I asked her whether she ever sees patients with body dysmorphia and whether I could have potentially inherited that from my mother. She told me that psychosis was hereditary, but that it was “highly unlikely” that there was any connection between body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria.

I enthusiastically waved more mental health red flags, waiting to see if she would pick up on any of them.

I’m just wondering if my feelings, or perseverating, or feeling like these breasts make me really unhappy and I just don’t want them anymore!...I’m just not sure if that’s a similar feeling to body dysmorphia? How do you decide which one is gender dysphoria and general body dysmorphia, and just not liking something about your body? Feeling uncomfortable with your body? And I did have an eating disorder all through college. I was a distance runner in college so I had bulimia and anorexia, you know. So I don’t know if that’s related to gender dysphoria?

The therapist replied, “I completely appreciate your concerns, but I am going to ask you questions about your chest, about your expectations. And then I’ll be able to give you an assessment.” She also said the main difference between my mom’s situation and mine was that my mom didn’t really have a growth on her neck, whereas it’s “confirmed” that I actually have “chest tissue.” Furthermore, she said that while “historically there has been all this pressure on patients to be like ‘Are you really, really sure you want hormones? Are you 100% sure?’ We are a little more relaxed.” She continued, “As long as you are aware of the risks and the side-effects, you can put your toe in the water. You can stop ‘T’ [testosterone], you can go back and do it again later! You can stop it! You can stop it! You know what I mean?”

Because we ran out of time, I scheduled a follow-up phone meeting on December 27, 2022 with a different gender specialist to complete my mental health assessment for top surgery.

Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part II

During this meeting, Guneet Kaur, LCSW, another Kaiser gender specialist (she/her/they/them pronouns) told me that she regretted the “gatekeeping vibe” of the meeting but assured me that since I have been “doing the work,” her questions are essentially just a form of “emotional support” before talking with the medical providers.

She asked me about what I’d been “looking into as far as hormones.” I told her that I’d be interested in taking small doses of testosterone to counterbalance my female feelings to achieve “a feeling that’s kind of neutral.”

When she asked me about me “not feeling like I match on the outside what I feel on the inside,” I dropped more red flags, mentioning my aversion to wearing dresses and skirts.

I don’t own a single dress or a skirt and haven't in 20 years. I think for me it’s been just dressing the way that’s comfortable for me, which is just wearing, jeans and sweatshirts and I have a lot of flannel shirts and, and I wear boots all the time instead of other kinds of shoes. So I think it’s been nice being able to dress, especially because I work from home now most of the time that just a feeling of clothing being one of the ways that I can feel more non-binary in my everyday life.

She responded, “Like having control over what you wear and yeah. Kind of that feeling of just, yeah, this is who I am today. That’s awesome. Yeah.”

She then asked me to describe my dysphoria, and I told her that I didn’t like the “feeling of the female form and being chesty,” and that because I am going through menopause, I wanted to start taking testosterone to avoid “that feeling of being like this apple-shaped older woman.” “Good. Okay, great,” she responded, reminding me that only “top surgery,” not testosterone, would be able to solve my chest dysphoria. (Perhaps it was because all these meetings were online, they didn’t notice I’m actually fit and relatively slender at 5’-5” and 130 pounds, and not apple-shaped at all.)

She told me that we had to get through a few more questions related to my medical history before “we can move on to the fun stuff, which is testosterone and top surgery.”

The “fun stuff” consisted of a discussion about the physical and mood changes I could expect, and her asking me about the dose of testosterone I wanted to take and the kind of “top surgery” technique I’d prefer to achieve my “chest goals.” She told me that all or most of my consultations for surgeries and hormones would be virtual.

The gender specialist told me after the appointment, she would submit my referral to the Multi-Specialty Transitions Clinic (MST) team that oversees “gender expansive care.” They would follow up to schedule a “nursing call” with me to review my medical history, after which they’d schedule my appointment with a surgeon for a consultation. Her instructions for this consultation were to “tell them what you’re wanting for surgery and then they share with you their game plan.”

[ Decision-making slide to help me identify my goals for top surgery–flat chest, nipple sensation, or minimal scarring. Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]

She told me that Kaiser has a team of plastic surgeons who “only work with trans and nonbinary patients because there’s just so much need for them.” She asked about my priorities for chest surgery, such as whether I value flatness over nipple sensation. I learned about double incision top surgery with nipple grafts, as well as “keyhole,” “donut,” “buttonhole,” and “Inverted-T” top surgeries.

By the end of the hour-long appointment, I had my surgery referral and was ready for my “nursing call” appointment.

Nursing call with Nurse Coordinator from the Transgender Surgery and Gender Pathways Clinic at Kaiser San Francisco

On January 19, 2023, I had my nursing call with the Nurse Coordinator. He first said that “the purpose of this call is just for us to go through your chart together and make sure everything’s as accurate as possible.” Once that was done, my referral would be sent to the surgeon for a consultation.

He asked me about potential allergies and recreational drug use, and verified that I was up to date on mammograms, pap smears, and colon cancer screenings, as well as vaccines for flu and COVID. I verified my surgical history as well as my current medications and dietary supplements.

He told me about a “top surgery class” available for patients where one of the Kaiser surgeons “presents and talks about surgical techniques and options within top surgery,” and includes a panel of patients who have had top surgery. I signed up for the February 8th class.

Within 10 minutes he told me that he had “sent a referral to the plastic surgery department at Kaiser Sacramento,” and that I should be hearing from them in the next week or two to schedule a consultation.

Appointment for Testosterone

On January 27, I had a 13-minute online appointment with a primary care doctor at Kaiser Davis to discuss testosterone. The doctor verified my name and preferred pronouns, and then directly asked: “So, what would you like to do? What kind of physical things are you looking for?”

I told her I wanted facial hair, a more muscular and less “curvy” physique, and to feel stronger and androgynous. She asked me when I wanted to start, and I told her in the next few months. She asked me if I was menopausal, whether I had ovaries and a uterus, although that information should have been on my chart.

The doctor said she wanted me to come in to get some labs so she could check my current estrogen, testosterone, and hemoglobin levels before starting hormones. Then “we'll set the ball in motion and you'll be going. We’ll see you full steam ahead in the direction you wanna go.”

That was it. I made an appointment and had my lab tests done on February 12. My labs came back on February 14, and the following day, after paying a $5 copay at the Kaiser pharmacy, I picked up my testosterone pump. That was easy!

Top Surgery Consultation

On the same day I received my labs, I had a Zoom surgery consultation with Karly Autumn-Kaplan, MD, Kaiser Sacramento plastic surgeon. This consultation was all about discussing my “goals” for surgery, not about whether surgery was needed or appropriate.

I told the surgeon that I wanted a “flatter, more androgynous appearance.” She asked me some questions to get a better idea of what that meant for me. She said that some patients want a “male chest,” but that others “want to look like nothing, like just straight up and down, sometimes not even nipples.” Others still wanted their chest to appear slightly feminine and only “slightly rounded.” I told her that I’d like my chest to have a “male appearance.”

“What are your thoughts about keeping your nipples?” she asked. “Are you interested in having nipples or would you like them removed?” I told her that I’d like to keep my nipples, but to make them “smaller in size.” She asked me if I’d like them moved to “the edge of the peck muscle” to achieve “a more male appearance.” I said yes.

I was asked to show my bare chest from the front and side, which I did. Then she asked me how important it was for me to keep my nipple sensation. I replied that it was important unless it would make recovery more difficult or there were other associated risks. She highlighted the problem with the free nipple graft, saying that removing the nipple to relocate it means “you're not gonna have sensation in that nipple and areola anymore.” However, some nipple sensation could be preserved by keeping it attached to “a little stalk of tissue” with “real nerves going to it,” but that would require leaving more tissue behind. I told her I’d go for the free nipple graft to achieve a flatter appearance. It was also suggested I could skip nipple reconstruction entirely and just get nipples “tattooed” directly onto my chest.

She told me I was “a good candidate for surgery,” and put me on the surgery wait list. She said that the wait time was between three and five months, but a cancellation could move me up to a sooner date. Also, if I wanted surgery as soon as possible, I could tell the surgery scheduler that I’d be willing to have any of the other three surgeons perform my mastectomy. Outpatient top surgery would cost me a copay of $100.

They contacted twice, in February and March, notifying me of cancellations. If I had accepted and shown up on those dates, they would have removed my breasts. This would have been less than five months from the time I first contacted Kaiser to inform them of my new “nonbinary” gender identity.

How Far Can I Go?

I decided to see how easy it would be for me to get approved for a phalloplasty. Known euphemistically as “bottom surgery,” phalloplasty is the surgical creation of an artificial penis, generally using tissue from the thigh or arm.

I sent an email on March 1, 2023, requesting to have a phalloplasty and concurrent hysterectomy scheduled alongside my mastectomy.

Two weeks later, on March 16th, I had a 16-minute phone call with a gender specialist to discuss my goals for bottom surgery and obtain my referral.

During the call, I explained to the specialist that I wasn’t sure about taking testosterone anymore because I was already quite athletic and muscular, and that taking testosterone didn’t make much sense to me. Instead, I wanted bottom surgery so that I wouldn’t feel like my “top” didn’t match my “bottom.” I told her:

But what I really wanted was to have bottom surgery. So this way when I have my top surgery, which sounds like it could be very soon, that I’ll be aligned, that I won’t have this sense of dysphoria with one part of my body and the other part feeling like it matched who I am. So yeah. So I just did a little bit more research into that. And I looked at the resources on the Kaiser page for the MST clinic and I think I know what I want, which is the hysterectomy and then at the same time or soon after to be able to have a phalloplasty.

I told her that I wanted to schedule the top and bottom surgery concurrently so that I wouldn’t have to take more time off work and it would save me trips to San Francisco or Oakland, or wherever I had to go for surgery.

None of this gave the gender specialist pause. After a brief conversation about some online resources to look over, she told me that she would “submit the referral now and we’ll get this ball rolling.”

Bottom surgery would cost me a copay of $200, which included a couple of days in the hospital for recovery.

Phalloplasty Surgical Consultation with Nurse Coordinator

On May 16, 2023, I had a short surgical consultation with a nurse coordinator to go through my medical history. This was similar to the consultation for top surgery but included information about hair removal procedures for the skin on my “donor site” that would be fashioned into a makeshift penis. They also went over the procedures for determining which donor site—forearm or thigh—was more viable.

After only 15 minutes, she submitted my referral to the surgeon for another surgical consultation.

On May 25 I received an email from my phalloplasty surgeon’s scheduler, informing me that they have received my referral and are actively working on scheduling, but that they are experiencing delays.

I ended my investigation here once I had the referral for the top and bottom surgery. I never used my testosterone pump.

Final Thoughts

In fewer than 300 days, based on a set of superficial and shifting thoughts about my gender and my “embodiment goals” triggered by the mere mention of “gender” in a form letter from my primary care physician, and driven by what could only be described as minor discomforts, Kaiser Permanente’s esteemed “multi-disciplinary team” of “gender specialists” was willing, with enthusiasm—while ignoring mental health concerns, history of sexual trauma, and rapidly escalating surgical requests—to prescribe life-altering medications and perform surgeries to remove my breasts, uterus, and vagina, close my vaginal opening, and attempt a complex surgery with high failure and complication rates to create a functionless representation of a penis that destroys the integrity of my arm or thigh in the process.

This describes the supposedly meticulous, lengthy, and safety-focused process that a Kaiser patient must undergo to embark on a journey to medically alter their body. No clinician questioned my motivations. No one showed concern that I might be addressing a mental health issue through radical and irreversible interventions that wouldn’t address my amorphous problems. There were no discussions about how these treatments would impact my long-term health, romantic relationships, family, or sex life. I charted the course. The clinicians followed my lead without question. The guiding issue was what I wanted to look like.

No other medical field operates with this level of carelessness and disregard for patient health and welfare. No other medical field addresses issues of self-perception with surgery and labels it “medically necessary.” No other medical field is this disconnected from the reality of the patients it serves.

Kaiser has traded medicine for ideology. It’s far beyond time we stop the ruse of considering “gender-affirming” interventions as anything approaching medical care.

This isn’t the first time Kaiser Permanente has been in the news for completely disregarding medical safeguards in the name of “gender-affirming care.” As girls, Chloe Cole and Layla Jane became convinced that they were born in the wrong body and were actually boys on the inside. Doctors at Kaiser ignored their underlying conditions and instead prescribed testosterone and removed their breasts. Both Cole and Jane have since detransitioned and are currently suing Kaiser.

The fact that children and vulnerable adults are being exploited in this massive ideological experiment is not just tragic; it’s deeply disturbing, especially considering it has evolved into a billion-dollar industry.

I hope that by sharing my story, I can bring more focused scrutiny to the medical scandal unfolding not just at Kaiser but also at medical centers and hospitals across the Western world. These institutions have completely abandoned medical safeguards for patients who claim to be confused about their “gender,” and I aim to awaken more parents and assist them in protecting their children.

--

==

This is completely insane.

Apologists online are running around saying, but she didn't mean it, she was lying, she was pretending...

It doesn't matter.

Any kind of security, penetration or integrity test is insincere too. When security researchers compromise Microsoft's operating system or Google's browser or whatever, "but they didn't mean it" is not a defence to a discovered security flaw. It doesn't matter that the security researchers didn't plan to steal data or money or identities. The flaw in the system is there regardless.

It doesn't matter that it was insincere. Because the workers didn't know that. They never checked, never asked questions, never tested. They had been taught and instructed to never ask any questions. They did what they were supposed to. And the system failed spectacularly. Because that's what "gender affirming care" means.

Additionally, the claim that Beth Bourne committed fraud is an outright lie. A patient cannot bill. They do not have the authority. The medical clinic is the only one that can bill, and they must supply a diagnosis and a medical necessity.

If they didn't diagnose her and just wrote down what she said, then they committed fraud. If they claim they did diagnose her, then they committed fraud, because the diagnosis they concocted was bogus. This, by the way, is actually going on. Clinics are reporting fake endocrine and other disorders to get blockers, hormones and other interventions. Jamie Reed and other whistleblowers have documented evidence of this. Beth Bourne is not responsible for what the clinic does. They have medical licenses and legal responsibility. Not her.

Additionally, anyone who actually read the article would know how she tested the system. She said things like, "I've always been not that feminine. So, maybe I get my boobs removed." And they said, "sure." Instead of saying, "wait, why do you think that?" Framing it as her lying is itself a lie. They violated their ethical obligations. That much is incontrovertible. And it's directly the result of "gender affirming care," where clinics and clinicians rubber-stamp anything deemed "trans" based entirely on ideological, not medical, grounds.

[ask-the-prose]

Do Your Research

This phrase is regularly thrown around writeblr and for good reason. It's important to research what you are writing about to know what to include, what can be fudged, and how to depict whatever you're writing. I see "do your research" most thrown around by well-meaning and highly traditionally educated writers. It's solid advice, after all!

But how do you research?

For those writers who don't already have the research skills necessary to write something comfortably already downloaded into your brain, I put this guide together for you.

Where do I even start?

It's a daunting task, research. But the best place to start is with the most basic, stupidest question you can think of. I'm going to talk about something that I already know a lot about: fighting.

When researching fight scenes, a great way to start is to look up what different weapons are. There are tons out there! So ask the stupid questions. What is a sword? What is a gun? How heavy are they?

Google and Wikipedia can help you a lot with these basic-level questions. They aren't great sources for academic articles, but remember, this is fiction. It doesn't need to be perfect, and it doesn't need to be 100% accurate if you don't want it to be. But knowing what is true to life will help you write well. Just like knowing the rules of writing will help you break them.

You may find in your basic research sweep that you have a lot more specific questions. Write them all down. It doesn't matter if they seem obvious. Write them down because they will be useful later.

How To Use Wikipedia Correctly

Wikipedia is a testament to cooperative human knowledge. It's also easy to edit by anonymous users, which means there is a lot of room for inaccuracies and misleading information. Wikipedia is usually pretty good about flagging when a source is needed or when misleading language is obvious, but Wikipedia itself isn't always the most accurate or in-depth source.

Wikipedia is, however, an excellent collection of sources. When I'm researching a subject that I know nothing about, say Norse mythology, a good starting point is the Wikipedia page for Odin. You'll get a little background on Odin's name and Germanic roots, a little backstory on some of the stories, where they appear, and how they are told.

When you read one of the sentences, and it sparks a new question, write the question down, and then click on the superscript number. This will take you directly to the linked source for the stated fact. Click through to that source. Now you have the source where the claim was made. This source may not be a primary source, but a secondary source can still lead you to new discoveries and details that will help you.

By "source-hopping," you can find your way across the internet to different pieces of information more reliably. This information may repeat itself, but you will also find new sources and new avenues of information that can be just as useful.

You mean I don't need a library?

Use your library. Libraries in many parts of the US are free to join, and they have a wealth of information that can be easily downloaded online or accessed via hardcopy books.

You don't, however, need to read every source in the library for any given topic, and you certainly don't need to read the whole book. Academic books are different from fiction. Often their chapters are divided by topic and concept and not by chronological events like a history textbook.

For example, one of my favorite academic books about legislative policy and how policy is passed in the US, by John Kingdon, discusses multiple concepts. These concepts build off one another, but ultimately if you want to know about one specific concept, you can skip to that chapter. This is common in sociological academic books as well.

Going off of my Norse Mythology example in the last section, a book detailing the Norse deities and the stories connected to them will include chapters on each member of the major pantheon. But if I only care about Odin, I can focus on just the chapters about Odin.

Academic Articles and How To Read Them

I know you all know how to read. But learning how to read academic articles and books is a skill unto itself. It's one I didn't quite fully grasp until grad school. Learn to skim. When looking at articles published in journals that include original research, they tend to follow a set structure, and the order in which you read them is not obvious. At all.

Start with the abstract. This is a summary of the paper that will include, in about half a page to a page, the research question, hypothesis, methods/analysis, and conclusions. This abstract will help you determine if the answer to your question is even in this article. Are they asking the right question?

Next, read the research question and hypothesis. The hypothesis will include details about the theory and why the researcher thinks what they think. The literature review will go into much more depth about theories, what other people have done and said, and how that ties into the research of the present article. You don't need to read that just yet.

Skim the methods and analysis section. Look at every data table and graph included and try to find patterns yourself. You don't need to read every word of this section, especially if you don't understand a lot of the words and jargon used. Some key points to consider are: qualitative vs. quantitative data, sample size, confounding factors, and results.

(Some definitions for those of you who are unfamiliar with these terms. Qualitative data is data that cannot be quantified into a number. These are usually stories and anecdotes. Quantitative data is data that can be transferred into a numerical representation. You can't graph qualitative data (directly), but you can graph quantitative data. Sample size is the number of people or things counted (n when used in academic articles). Your sample size can indicate how generalizable your conclusions are. So pay attention. Did the author interview 300 subjects? Or 30? There will be a difference. A confounding factor is a factor that may affect the working theory. An example of a theory would be "increasing LGBTQ resources in a neighborhood would decrease LGBTQ hate crimes in that area." A confounding factor would be "increased reporting of hate crimes in the area." The theory, including the confounding factor, would look like "increasing LGBTQ resources in a neighborhood would increase the reporting of hate crimes in the area, which increases the number of hate crimes measured in that area." The confounding factor changes the outcome because it is a factor not considered in the original theory. When looking at research, see if you can think of anything that may change the theory based on how that factor interacts with the broader concept. Finally, the results are different from the conclusions. The results tell you what the methods spit out. Analysis tells you what the results say, and conclusions tell you what generalizations can be made based on the analysis.)

Next, read the conclusion section. This section will tell you what general conclusions can be made from the information found in the paper. This will tell you what the author found in their research.

Finally, once you've done all that, go back to the literature review section. You don't have to read it necessarily, but reading it will give you an idea of what is in each sourced paper. Take note of the authors and papers sourced in the literature review and repeat the process on those papers. You will get a wide variety of expert opinions on whatever concept or niche you're researching.

Starting to notice a pattern?

My research methods may not necessarily work for everybody, but they are pretty standard practice. You may notice that throughout this guide, I've told you to "source-hop" or follow the sources cited in whatever source you find first. This is incredibly important. You need to know who people are citing when they make claims.

This guide focused on secondary sources for most of the guide. Primary sources are slightly different. Primary sources require understanding the person who created the source, who they were, and their motivations. You also may need to do a little digging into what certain words or phrases meant at the time it was written based on what you are researching. The Prose Edda, for example, is a telling of the Norse mythology stories written by an Icelandic historian in the 13th century. If you do not speak the language spoken in Iceland in 1232, you probably won't be able to read anything close to the original document. In fact, the document was lost for about 300 years. Now there are translations, and those translations are as close to the primary source you can get on Norse Mythology. But even then, you are reading through several veils of translation. Take these things into account when analyzing primary documents.

Research Takes Practice

You won't get everything you need to know immediately. And researching subjects you have no background knowledge of can be daunting, confusing, and frustrating. It takes practice. I learned how to research through higher formal education. But you don't need a degree to write, so why should you need a degree to collect information? I genuinely hope this guide helps others peel away some of the confusion and frustration so they can collect knowledge as voraciously as I do.

– Indy

[zepskies]

Love, By Any Other Name

Pairing: Castiel x F. Reader

Summary: You want him. Castiel can’t help but crave you. Dean sees both of you and wishes you’d stop being idiots.

AN: This is my first ever commission! Written for @girlsforpjm, who requested "mutual pining" with Castiel. Here you go, lovely! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 💜

**Also, this is set during season 12.

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, blood and injury, (contains events from 12.12), fluff, some spice, implied smut.

“Achooo!!”

Sam grimaces while he watches you wipe your nose against your bare wrist. You shake your head and frown at the dusty tomes piled high beside you. You and Sam have been organizing the library for two hours now.

“That’s it, I can’t do this anymore,” you lament. “I need a break. My sinuses need a break.”

Sam’s lips twitch at a smile. “It’s okay. I got the rest of these.”

You aim a lazy salute at your friend and continue to sniffle as you leave the library. You circle this labyrinth of a bunker for a while, but you can’t seem to find the trench coat-wearing angel that’s supposed to live here too.

You end up in the garage, where Dean is tuning up his Baby. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and he’s got a grease stain across his cheek.

“Hey, you seen Cas?” you ask.

Dean barely perks up from under Baby’s hood to answer you. “He went out this morning. Haven’t seen him since.”

You pout at that, leaning against the side of the car near where Dean is tinkering.

“Is it too much to ask for him to leave a note or something?” you mutter.

Dean finally glances over at you. His lips edge at a smirk.

“What, miss your little boyfriend?” he teases.

The insinuation manages to take you by surprise. Your face starts to warm in embarrassment, but you cover it with a scoff.

“You should know. He was your boyfriend first,” you volley back. Dean’s expression flattens in annoyance.

“Don’t you have anything better to do right now?” he snarks.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “P.” But you have mercy on him.

Instead of pestering him further, you just tip over the screwdriver he had balanced on the car’s frame. He makes a sound of protest as it falls somewhere between the gears inside his precious car.

He barks your name, and his angry voice echoes on the walls to magnify his frustration, but you’re already hastening back into the hall and down to the kitchen, trying to stifle your laughter.

You’ve slipped into the kitchen to escape. Yet that’s where you find the bunker’s resident angel, washing his hands of what looks like breadcrumbs in the sink.

“Hey,” you greet him jovially. He treats you with a small smile. “Where were you?”

“Oh, nowhere really. Just stepped out for a bit,” he replies. You get the sense that he’s hiding something. You smile and step closer to him, leaning a hand on the counter.

“Oh, yeah? Where?” you ask. Your eyes gleam with amusement. “Another ‘mission on high?’”

He sends you a droll look. “No.”

You tug on his sleeve. “Come on. Tell me.”

He smiles in return, and he gives you his own version of teasing.

“Childishness doesn’t become you,” he says.

“I’m just curious. You’ve been gone all day,” you reply, tilting your head. Your stare is unyielding, and familiar; Cas knows how stubborn you can be when you want something—especially information. Sometimes he finds it annoying, but in moments like these, it’s tempered by your playful, endearing smile.

“I was on a walk,” he finally admits.

You raise your brows. “A walk? Cas, it’s winter. Like 20 degrees outside.”

“I enjoy nature,” he shrugs. “The cold doesn’t bother me much anyway.”

…Well, he is an angel. You suppose it makes sense that he doesn’t feel the frigid weather like a human would. Your brow quirks with another curious thought.

“So you were washing your hands because…?” you ask.

Castiel’s face becomes a little more bashful. “I was feeding the birds some bread.”

At that, your smile grows. Here he is: Castiel, warrior angel of the Lord, Feeder of Pigeons.

“Well, if you ever want a walking companion, I’d be happy to join you,” you offer.

Castiel gives you a certain look, like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

Your lips purse. “What?”

He sinks his hands into his pockets as he leans his slightly hunched form back on his heels.

“Nothing,” he claims. “It’s only, I seem to remember you forcing Dean to kill a spider in your room. You claimed, and I quote, bastard things that crawl don’t belong indoors.”

You cross your arms and stare back at him narrowly, even though you try to stifle a smile.

“What’s your point? Everyone’s afraid of spiders,” you reason.

He raises a brow. “You also claim to have a vendetta against birds.”

“Pigeons, Castiel. They’re rats with wings.” Even Dean would agree with you on that one.

Castiel gives you a dubious look, however.

“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your supposed love of nature,” he says drolly.

You want to argue more, but Sam enters the room with Dean on his heels. Both men seem to sense they’ve interrupted something. You clear your throat and turn to them.

“What’s up?” you ask, more nonchalant than you feel whenever you’re near the angel beside you. Castiel glances at you, before he too silently addresses Sam and Dean.

“Uh, we’ve caught a case,” Sam says. “It’s not far. Three dead, all with their hearts, and most of their internal organs ripped out.”

“Ech,” you reply with a grimace. “Sounds kind of like a ghoul. Maybe a werewolf on steroids?”

“Well, they were fresh kills, and it’s a full moon. So more than likely we’re looking at werewolves,” he replies.

You smile thinly. “Great.”

You hate werewolves.

Correction: you really hate werewolves.

The thought hits you yet again as you lay on the floor of a dusty old hunting cabin.

The irony.

Dean hefts you in his arms, after slicing his silver blade through the heart of the yellow-eyed bastard that tore you open with his claws.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” you ask, hating how your voice trembles. Dean doesn’t answer you at first. He holds his hand to the oozing gash in your side.

“Nah, you’ll be okay. Just hang in there,” he says. Blood quickly covers his palm. He curses inside his mind.

“Cas!” he calls out roughly.

The angel had been fighting in the other the room with Sam, but after he burns out the eyes of the last werewolf and its body falls to the ground, he hears the undercurrent of alarm in Dean’s shouting. With Sam on his heels, he returns to the living room to find you and Dean.

Castiel’s steps halt in the doorway when he sees you. His face slackens for a moment, but then he hardens. He moves forward swiftly.

“Move,” he says to Dean in order to come to your side. Dean’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s told after laying you down to the floor. 

Castiel stares down at your face, offering you comfort with his eyes. You stare up at him in pain, but also with hope, and trust. You’re able to curl your fingers around the edge of his trench coat.

Then he presses his hand to your cheek. He closes his eyes in concentration while he heals you. 

Though he expels more power than he should to heal you completely. He knows it when his body sways a little after he’s done. Dean grabs his shoulder to keep him steady.

“You good?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods; he’s more focused on the way you’re catching your breath. You marvel at how your wounds, your pain, and even your blood is gone—completely washed away. He helps you sit up with an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Then he gathers you tight against him, so he can help you stand as well. He wavers again on his feet, just a little, but you’re too perceptive not to catch it. You realize he did too much to save you.

You still chide at him with a frown. “You didn’t have to use up so much of your energy.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Think nothing of it.”

Those are useless words, but you don’t bother arguing with him anymore. You just sigh and hold onto his strong arms while regaining your balance. You know for a fact that you’re blushing when you glance up at him.

Biting your lip, you soon turn away to grab the knife you’d dropped in the fight.

Without you or Cas noticing, Sam and Dean share a knowing glance. It’s subtle, in the way the brothers have perfected. Dean barely curbs a smile as he leads the way back to the car. 

You settle next to Cas in the backseat and try not to glance at him too often. You don’t know that he’s trying not to do the same to you.

Dean glances back at you two in the rearview mirror. He shakes his head.

Idiots.

Mary Winchester has been a welcome return to the family…when she’s here. Ever since Amara brought her back, she’s been distant with her sons. You don’t understand it all that well, but it’s not your place to say anything, you don’t think.

You do think Mary is a badass hunter. You just don’t know her that well.

About a week after the werewolf hunt, Mary drops in with Wally, a fellow hunter in need of assistance with a demon problem. You, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are all game. While you haven’t had to deal with demons too much in the past, you know that they’re…something of a specialty for the Winchesters. 

But of course, it quickly goes to shit.

The demon lives alone, in some shack by a river where he likes to fish. The group of you wait until he’s stepped out of the house before you go inside and case the place, looking for a good spot to spray a Devil’s Trap or two and try to trap him.

When the demon returns, he’s far stronger than any of you anticipated. The Devil’s Trap breaks with little effort (the demon’s just laughing). Then he flashes yellow eyes. You and Castiel share a look of widening shock. Mary takes a preemptive step back.

And when the kitchen door is about to close on the three of you, the angel pushes you into the next room before you can turn and fight. Sam helps you back onto your feet, though you stare at the door in horror. He and Dean try to break the door down, but it’s no use. It’s supernaturally sealed. 

You felt useless standing there. You wrack your brain for a solution, and you glance out one of the windows. Maybe there’s another way into the kitchen!

“Guys! What if we go around?” you suggest.

With that idea taking root in each of you, Sam and Dean follow you outside. Before you guys can even make it around the house, Wally flags you down. 

“We’ve got incoming!” he says. And you realize what he means. A group of black-eyed demons are bounding toward the house.

Aw, shit. You’re grateful to have Sam and Dean beside you, because the demons nearly overtake all of you. You manage to hold your own, along with the brothers. Wally isn’t so fortunate. His body hits the floor after his own blade sinks into his chest.

A pit begins to form in your stomach as you scramble toward the Impala. The plan is to catch up with Mary; thanks to Cas, she’d been able to flee the demon strong enough to snap a Devil’s Trap like a cheap trick. But she’d then taken Cas with her to safety. 

Now, Dean drives the Impala down the road at breakneck speed. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks his mother through the phone. The car is silent enough for you to hear Mary’s reply.

“…No.”

When you step into the barn, the first thing you have to focus on is Cas covered in his own blood. He’s been stabbed by one of the demon’s strange and powerful weapons, and he lies on an old, dingy couch. You hurry to Cas’s side and take in, your face filled with horror, though you try and fail to mask it. 

You reach out a hand, but you hesitate to touch him. Suffering is written across his face. He tries to stifle sounds of pain out of habit.

Tears are fresh in your eyes as you look down at him in dismay. You chance laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“Can you heal yourself?” you ask.

“No,” he answers eventually. “I think the demon’s spear was poisoned. I think I’m…”

No, your lower lip trembles as you shake your head.

“No,” you repeat aloud. “You just need time.”

You turn to Dean, who’s approached from behind you. But you quickly turn back to Cas, as if you’ll miss out on precious few moments. Castiel’s furrowed gaze tells you he’d rather not have you see him like this, but you don’t care. There’s no way you’re leaving his side. 

The weapon that was able to do this to him was the Lance of Michael, you all discover, when Crowley suddenly appears. He also informs you all that this is no ordinary demon. It’s Ramiel, Prince of Hell. You don’t give a shit about the specifics of how Crowley is wrapped up in this.

All you care about is if there’s a cure to Cas’s wounds. Crowley’s only words of wisdom are to leave the angel behind and run as fast as you can. 

He disappears before you can spit at him. 

“Cas, how bad is it?” Dean asks, after the King of Hell predictably makes a run for it. 

Castiel opened up his shirt collar to reveal a spiderweb of black crackling across his clammy skin, slowly breaking down his vessel. 

“Crowley’s right. You should go.”

Your hand tightens on his shoulder. “Cas—”

“No, listen to me,” he says, staring into your eyes. He continues with difficulty. “Look…thank you. Thank you. Knowing you all, it’s been the best part of my life. The things we’ve shared together, they have changed me… You’re my family, and I love you.”

His gaze had fallen on you, making your breath hitch. But his dark blue eyes travel to Sam and Dean next, and even Mary. 

“I love all of you.” The angel is the closest to tears and heartbreak that you’ve ever seen him. He struggles to hold himself together, in more ways than one. “Just, please, please don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, and save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes the sentence. Tears pour down your cheeks in silent streams, but you still hold him down when he tries to force his body to sit up. He doesn’t have the strength to resist you encouraging him to lie back down. 

Dean voices what you’re all thinking.

No. None of you would cut and run and leave him to die, no matter what Cas says. 

“Like you said, we’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”

Ramiel comes for all of you, specifically for his stolen weapon. Killing the rest of you would just be an added bonus.

But while the four of you manage to pin down the demon with holy fire and a good fight, it’s Sam who manages to stab the Prince of Hell with Michael’s Lance, killing him in flash of brilliant light and rendering his body to ash. 

Of course, that’s when Crowley arrives once again, late holding his proverbial Starbucks. In this case, what would’ve been a mocha frappe is actually the Lance—and Crowley breaks it in half. It somehow reverses the curse of the blade, and therefore frees Castiel. 

He’s able to heal himself back to a full recovery. 

But also, rather predictably, Crowley disappears again before you all can recover yourselves. 

Sam and Dean help the angel back onto his feet. His clothes are still covered in blood, but his skin is clear and no longer clammy, his eyes no longer bloodshot. He’s shocked to still be alive, and you can barely contain yourself. Tears stream down your face as you surprise him with a hug.

Cas releases an oof, his body wavering just slightly before he plants his feet and wraps his arms around you. His hold tightens around your smaller frame, and he chances resting his chin on the top of your head.  

“So…you’re good?” Mary asks incredulously. 

Castiel raises his gaze to answer her. “I guess I am.”

You’re quiet for the rest of the drive home. Mary had taken her own car for the hunt, so it leaves you once again in the backseat with Castiel.

He finds your silence perturbing, though he doesn’t have the courage to ask you what’s wrong. Despite his full recovery, you still seem upset somehow. 

Part of him wants to reach out to you…but he stops himself. He also reminds himself not to stare at you. Instead, he turns his head back out the window. You felt his gaze on your profile, but you resolve to keep yours stubbornly out of your own window. 

The only one who notices the exchange, yet again through the rearview mirror, is Dean. His lips firm into a thoughtful frown. 

Home, sweet home, you think wryly when you enter the bunker. 

You give into the urge to beeline straight for your room without even turning your head. 

Sam and Mary follow suit, which leaves Castiel hesitating in the hall. Dean takes pity on him and claps his shoulder. 

“You okay, man?” he asks. Cas is staring after you like a man who’s lost his way.

“She’s…upset,” he replies, both confused and bothered by that fact.  

Dean’s lips twitch humorlessly. “Yeah, well, you almost died.”

“Yes,” Cas gives a wry nod. “But she seems upset at me.”

Dean has to smile for real. It’s plain as day what’s on his friend’s mind, and why. Just like it’s obvious as hell (at least to him) why you’re probably “upset.” As always, Dean takes up the role of wingman. 

“Why don’t you just go talk to her then?” he suggests.

Castiel hesitates. He’s not sure if he’d be intruding on you. The emotions of human women are foreign to him. They always have been, even when he was human, not so long ago. But he trusts Dean’s advice on these things.

So, he eventually nods. He means to follow you, but Dean stops him for a moment with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe after you, uh, wash your clothes. Take a shower. Maybe shave a little,” he says, brushing his fingers over his own chin. “But uh, keep a little scruff. Some chicks dig that.”

“Shave my facial hair, but…keep my facial hair?” Cas tries to clarify. 

Dean blinks at his friend. Christ.

 “Okay, look, just clean yourself up,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”

With one last clap on the back, Dean disappears down the hall to his room. It leaves Castiel feeling somewhat unbalanced, but he treks the other way.

Normally he would restore his clothes with his powers, but he’d used up his reserves just to heal himself. There was a time when his connection to heaven was enough to do more than heal his own injuries. Now, however, both he and heaven itself are in a lesser state. 

Shaking his head, he goes down to the laundry room. He still remembers how to wash his own clothing. 

He unintentionally finds you there in the laundry room. You’ve peeled away your jacket that had been stained with his blood, and you’re tossing it into the machine. It leaves you in a thin shirt and jeans.

Castiel finds himself admiring your form; the familiar curve of your face, the shade of your hair, the outline of your bra through your shirt (which he tries not to notice), and the other curves that he has to often felt guilty for tracing with his eyes…and imagining with his hands.  

You look up when he enters the room.

He knocks himself out of his thoughts and freezes, a bit uncertain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he offers.

You just shake your head. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes roam over him then, from head to toe. It makes his face feel a bit warm.

“You want me to throw that coat in with mine?” you ask, pointing over to him. Cas examines his bloody trench coat.

“I’m not sure there’s any saving it, but we can try,” he says. He peels off the coat and allows you to throw it into the watching machine along with your bloody clothing.

“Your shirt’s white, so you should wash that separately,” you advise.

“I know,” he says, with a faint smile. “I, uh, I remember.”

You begin to regain some of your normal self, glancing at him with more warmth in your eyes. 

“Do you ever miss being human?” you ask. Cas draws closer to you. He rests a hand near yours, where you lean on the dryer. 

“There were some enjoyable aspects. Food, in particular,” he admits. “Now if I try to take a bite of a sandwich, it’s just…molecules, really.”

You wince in sympathy. “God, I don’t know how I could go through life without being able to enjoy another Snickers bar.”

He nods in agreement. He remembers chocolate well.

“But it wasn’t just the taste. It was the feeling of satiety. Sometimes, being uncomfortably full was quite satisfying,” he says. That makes you smile. 

But it soon drops when you take in the disgusting state of his shirt. Unbidden, it reminds you of every horrific thing that happened tonight. You really can’t bear it. 

“Okay, give me that,” you gesture at the shirt.

You start to unbutton it before he’s really ready for you, but he tries to get over his embarrassment by removing his tie. Meanwhile, you undo the buttons of his shirt while trying not to think too hard about what you’re really doing as you start to see flashes of his skin, from chest to sternum.

He takes a peek at your face. 

“Are you angry?” he asks. 

Your brows are furrowed, but this time more in confusion when you look up at him. 

“No. Why?” 

Cas’s brows furrow. “It feels like you’re angry…at me.”

The hasty motions of your hands calm at that. You consider him with a frown. Maybe you are a little upset at him. It’s not really fair, you know, but it’s how you feel. You blow out a sigh. 

“I just… After everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve done for us, how could you think for one second that we would leave you there alone? Alone to die?” you ask. It renders Castiel a bit stunned into silence. 

Your grip tightens on the now open edges of his shirt.

“Look, that situation was bad enough. But if you ever try to push me away like that again…”

You’re unable to finish that thought. You become waylaid by your own tears as emotion clogs your throat and threatens to choke you. 

Castiel raises a hand to touch your face, tentatively at first, then more comforting. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, catching the tears there. 

“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” he confesses. “I was trying to save you…because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, even as I lay dying.”

You hold onto his hand. Biting your lower lip, you find enough courage to meet his eyes. They’ve lowered to your lips, you realize, though maybe Cas doesn’t. He seems a bit surprised when you lean up towards him.

You go more slowly. Your hand falls on his warm chest. For God’s sake, do something, you tell yourself. 

You don’t know if he can pick up on your thoughts as well with your bodies touching this close, but he seems to have an internal battle of his own. You each make a decision at the same time.

It has you leaning up the rest of the way, and Castiel bending down to meet your kiss.  

He gathers you closer; one hand finds its way into your tangled hair, while the other grasps your hip and brings you flush against him. Your hands move up his chest and wind around his neck. He holds you tightly against him as his lips claim yours, over and over with increasing urgency. 

He turns you in his arms and hefts you up onto the dryer machine. There he gets even more leverage to kiss you the way he has secretly imagined, to touch you the way he’s too often craved, with his hands warming up and down your thighs.

You utter a moan of longing as you hold his face. You like the scrape of his stubble against your palms. You can almost imagine that delightful tingling against otherplaces down your body. Places you’d like him to explore when you have more privacy…

Or maybe here is privacy enough.

You alternatively tangle and tug your fingers through his hair. And it’s his turn to moan when you take his lower lip between your teeth, scraping just hard enough to be both painful and delightful.

He squeezes your thighs in retaliation. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer. Your dirty boots cross behind his back.

But soon, his touch gentles, more tender than demanding as he slows the kiss. His lips veer from yours and burn a path across your jawline, down the smooth column of your neck.

It allows you to catch your breath, but the feeling of his gentle lips and rough cheek just turns you on even more. You card your fingers through his hair and close your eyes. 

“Cas,” you breathe in content. 

He hesitates, with his lips on your neck. “Yes?”

You blink for a moment, but then you have to giggle. You twine your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“Nothing,” you reply. Your smile says it all though. Cas sees it when he pulls away a bit, turning his gaze back to you. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I didn’t think feelings such as this…desires like this, would affect me after I became an angel again.”

Your smile brightens, even as you blush. “Does that make me special?”

“Yes,” he replies, with a soft smile. “But for many more, and far better reasons than that.”

Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You bite the edge of your lower lip, but Cas’s thumb swiping across encourages you to release it.

“When you said that you loved me,” you say, a little shakily, “did you just mean…in the family sense?”

Castiel meets your eyes, and there he finds his courage. 

“Yes,” he says. “And no.”

With another one of those smiles he’s come to love, you bring him back in for a kiss. All too soon, it becomes hungrier, rougher, born of passion and secret desires finally spilling free. 

“Wait,” you pant against his lips, taking his hands in yours. “Come with me.”

Anywhere, his heart says.

But after you jump down from the dryer, you tug him by the hand out of the laundry room. After a quick scan of the hallway, you give him a playful little smile and lead him down to your room.

Castiel can’t help but smile in return. He follows your lead in more ways than one when the door to your bedroom shuts behind you both.

You help him shrug off his tattered shirt, and he helps you out of yours next, followed swiftly by the belt buckle on his slacks. 

In that moment, and many moments after, you’re grateful for door locks. You just hope the Winchesters aren’t dumb enough to interrupt what you have planned next for your angel…

Because it might just take all night.

AN: I haven't written for Castiel in a long time, but I had fun with this. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. 😘

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[chlochette-sunde]

Know your Destiel/Cockles history: a calendar 

As a newcomer on Tumblr and on the Supernatural fandom, I first had trouble following all the past events that were regularly reminded and celebrated.

On this very special day (December 14th, European time), the following post is an attempt at listing those events, focusing on Destiel and Cockles (with a hint of Jenmisheel). Feel free to advise me for more (or less) dates!

Acknowledgement: The idea came from @youchangedmedestiel who also contributed to the content. The present post would never have been possible without @livebloggingmydescentintomadness 's Cockles masterlist. Color code: Destiel / Cockles

Honorary periodic event: FIMMF (Finger In My Mouth Friday)

January

12th: "Mish. Dee." (2021) - 1

16th: Broadcast of 15x09 “The Trap” (2020) - /

17th: ‘Isn't the season you met Misha?’ ‘Taste the rainbow’ JaxCon (2016) - 1

18th: The abandoned Jenmisheel podcast (2022) - 1

24th: Dean's birthday + ‘Jensen's the horse’ HousCon (2015) - / + 1

February

2nd: Broadcast of 12x10 “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets” (2017) - /

14th: Destiel wedding anniversary (2021)

16th: Broadcast of 12x12 “Stuck in the Middle (With You)” (2017) - /

26th: ‘Which is funny, because so do I’ JIB11 (2023) - 1

28th: ‘Misha's been working out’ ‘He has though, hasn't he?’ NashCon (2016) - 1

March

1st: Jensen Ackles' birthday (1978) - 1 2 3 4

18th: Danneel Ackles' birthday (1979)

20th: Broadcast of 8x17 “Goodbye Stranger” + Gag reel (2013) - / + 1

23rd: Broadcast of 7x17 “The Born-Again Identity” (2012) + Broadcast of 15x13 “Destiny’s Child” + Gag reel (Jensen's infamous fart joke) (2020) - / + 1

April

1st: Mishapocalypse (2013) + Mishapocalypse 2.0 (2023) - 1 2 + 3

10th: “When Harry Met Sally” JIB2 (2011) - 1

13th: Season 15 EW Photoshoot (2020) - 1 2

15th: Broadcast of 5x18 “Point of No Return” + Gag reel (blowjob+‘we’re missing the gay angel’+‘confetti it’s a parade’) (2010) - 1 + 2 3 4 

15th: Bishagate 2.0 NJCon (2023) + Misha’s Cas essay (2022) - 1 2 + 3

23th: Bishagate ‘I’m all three’ NJCon (2022) - 1

25th: ‘I happen to be straight’ (2022) - 1 2

27th: Broadcast of 12x19 “The Future” (2017) - 1 2 3 4

28th: ‘Balls deep’ CR8 (2024) - 1

29th: Broadcast of 6x19 “Mommy Dearest” + Gag reel (2011) - 1

May

6th: Broadcast of 6x20 “The Man Who Would Be King” (2011) - /

7th: First release of 'Watching Over Me' (2021) - 1

19th: Straddlegate JIB10 (2019) - 1 2 3 4

21st: Jensen's bear underwear reveal JIB8 (2017) - 1

23rd: ‘Okay babe’ (2021) - 1

24th: Misha tenderly rescuing Jensen+’We like you the best’+Hitch scene JIB5 (2014) - 1 2 3

26th: ‘It’s not a subtext. It was clear text.’ PurCon8 (2024) - 1

27th: ‘I talked to Jensen and Danneel this morning because I couldn’t sleep’ PurCon7 (2023) - 1

June

July

1st: ‘I miss my blanky’ + ‘I love you’ VS ‘I need you’ (2021 (yes, on the same fucking day)) + ‘Also, Cas is gay.’ (2023) - 1 2 3 + 4

14th: 'Destiel is Cockles Fault' Day SFCon (2024) - 1

24th: ‘Wow, that was really informative. Thank you.’ SDCC (2011) + ‘How do you know’ SDCC (2016) - 1 + 2

August

9th: Destiel fanfics first ship to reach the milestone of 100,000 stories 'I have to admit, I like being on top' (2021)

13th: ‘I’d love to do a Western…slash romcom with Misha’ VanCon (2017) - 1

17th: Cockles day at sea (2015) + ‘I would probably choose to be the car, because Dean would ride me all day’ SPNDEN (2018) - 1 2 + 3

18th: Destiel winning TV Choice Best Chemistry (2015) - 1

20th: Misha Collins' birthday (1974) - 1

September

8th: Release of "Some things I Still Can't Tell You", poetry book by Misha Collins - Men in the Woods (2021) - 1

13th: First broadcast of Supernatural (2005) - /

18th: Broadcast of Lazarus Rising, first appearance of Castiel (2008) + First release of Jensen publicly singing 'Angeles' (2012) (+Bonus: Jensen serenading Misha at JIB11 (2023)) - 1 + 2 3 4

24th: Broadcast of 5x03 “Free to Be You and Me” (2009) (Bonus: reference of ‘personal space’ at SFCon (2024)) - 1

October

11th: Danneel Ackles, sharing a picture of Jensen, reading "Some things I still can't tell you" by the fire, Misha tagged on his heart (2021) - 1 2 

13th: Broadcast of 12x01 “Keep Calm and Carry On” + ‘You're poking me’ Gag reel (2016) - 1

16th: ‘He’s like an angel plushie’ DenCon (2021) - 1

20th: ‘I can say whatever I want because Danneel is in love with you' HCCB (2024) - 1 

21st: Broadcast of 10x03 “Soul Survivor” + ‘Aloha cowboy’ Gag reel (2014) - 1 2

23rd: ‘I should have said ‘I love you too’ and hugged him’ VanCon (2022) - 1

28th: Broadcast of 11x04 “Baby” (2015) (Bonus: reenactment of the CasDean scene at JIB7 (2016))

November

5th: Broadcast of 15x18 "Despair" - Destiel's anniversary (2020) - /

8th: ‘Homosexual declaration of love’ Darklight Online Con (2020) + 'I live it' (2021) - 1 (no official proof because the panel has mysteriously been deleted from social medias around the 26th) + 2

11th: Broadcast of 10x05 “Fan Fiction” (2014) - /

12th: Broadcast of 9x06 “Heaven Can't Wait” (2013) - /

16th: Broadcast of 13x06 “Tombstone” (2017) + ‘Release the tapes!’ Day (2020) - / + 1

19th: Broadcast of 15x20 "Carry on" -> Last episode of Supernatural (so far 🕯🤞🏻) (2020) + Misha sharing by mistake (?) “The epic love story of Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins” blog (2013) - / + 1 2

24-25th: 'y yo a ti' (2020) - 1 

24th: ‘His ferret goes other places’ (2024) - 1

26th: Misha having to live stream and do PR during Thanksgiving, in mid divorce, following 'y yo a ti' (2020) - 1

December

1st: Danneel sharing a post to promote "The Adventurous Eaters Club", featuring Jensen and their kids (2019) - 1 2

5th: ‘I love you, not like a brother, but like a lover’ CCXP (2024) - 1 2

6th: ‘Cas was supposed to have his arm around Dean in the bar’ CCXP (2024) - 1 2

14th: Cockles anniversary (2009) + Introduction of 'Eyes Like The Sky' beer (2020) - 1 2 3 + 4

19th: Jenmisheel holiday package (2017) - 1 2

[neil-gaiman]

Would you be willing to help spread word and support for healthcare workers who plan to picket and strike?

My union is planning to picket in Modesto, CA, on July 25th from 7-4pm for better wages and a better contract. For housekeeping, we're getting paid $16 to $18, while others around us are making $21 to $30. And that's not talking about us being understaffed, overworked, and reprimanded for not doing a 2+ person job perfectly when we often don't have the supplies to do it. And that's just for housekeepers.

Mind you, that's on top of being given only 6 sick days, 5 days vacation, and 1 day pto for the whole year. I can't ask for more days off, and any more call offs may lead to my termination. I had to miss LARGE family/friend events because they land on the days I work, including my sister's baby shower. I have to schedule and reschedule a few needed medical appointments weeks and months out to have it land on my day off because they had no openings before noon.

Sorry for the long text, but if you can share this or help us make some noise, that'll be extremely helpful

Happy to share, but I'm not sure there's enough information here yet for people to support you.

Good luck. I hope you get what you are asking for.

[justagalwhowrites]

Joel Miller Birthday Celebration Masterlist

All the content shared as part of the Joel Miller Birthday Celebration!

Find more information about the theme of the event here.

Thank you SO SO SO SO MUCH to everyone who participated in this event! It truly means so much to me to see all the amazing things that were made in honor of this man's birthday. Seriously, this was incredible.

I hope all the creators who shared had a great time and that everyone has enjoyed seeing some fabulous moodboards and reading some amazing fic! Please like and share to show all these wonderful people some love and HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL MILLER!

Moodboards

Gargoyle (Feral!Joel with Supernatural Elements) by @yopossum

Patrol with Joel (Jackson!Joel with forced proximity and just one bed) by @almostfoxglove

Taking Care of Joel after FEDRA Lockup (QZ!Joel with Hurt/Comfort) by @almostfoxglove

QZ/Jackson Joel with Grumpy/Sunshine by @guelyury

Fan Fics

Birthday Blues (Jackson!Joel with Birthday Celebration) by @mermaidgirl30

Bound in Bloom (Jackson!Joel with Breeding Kink) by @nehi-soda

Can't Stay Away (QZ!Joel with Secret Relationship and Breeding Kink) by @justagalwhowrites

Get Some On My Love (QZ!Joel with Breeding Kink) by @corazondebeskar-reads

Gift (Jackson!Joel with Birthday Celebration, Found Family and Supernatural Elements) by @sawymredfox

Happy Birthday Joel (Trans!Joel with Friends to Lovers) by @romanarose

In the Cold Night (Jackson!Joel with One Bed) by @milla-frenchy

Joel Miller's Hair Was Going to be the Death of You (Jackson!Joel with Friends to Lovers) by @missdirection26

Oral Fixation (Young!Joel with Birthday Celebration) by @justagalwhowrites

So Long Too Soon (Dad!Joel and Feral!Joel with Premature Ejaculation) by @sunshinehaze1

To Keep You Safe (Jackson!Joel and Hurt/Comfort) by @tateypots

Traipse (Feral!Joel with Nightmares) by @cas-readsandwrites

Wallet Photo (DBF!Joel with Secret Relationship) by @aurorawritestoescape

Wonderwall (Young!Joel with Fake Dating) by @whocaresstillthelouvre

[van-yangyin]

No Heart Goat Horns for Teen to Elder and Adult to Elder Horses 【Simblreen 2024】 - Weekend 1 ~ 18th

Do you like horns, are you a fan of goats and/or their symbolism with Xehanort and Master of Masters (Kingdom Hearts reference)? Well, whether your answer is yes or no, it really doesn’t matter, because here are some huge goat horns for your sims and horses to wear in their best clothes or no clothes! Hope you enjoy this gift! 🍬🍭

🎃Hat (on hat category) for Sims, Dogs and Cats and Hat and Horns (on hat accessory category and horn category) for horses 🎃Teen to elder sims and adult to elder horses ～ All genders and agender (More ages and pets version coming soon. This month I have had more work than expected and I have not been able to make the versions I had in mind.) 🎃1 swatch, original one + 84 swatches (Crystallum Palette) 🎃Base game Compatible for Sims, Horse Ranch Expansion for Horses 🎃Disable for random 🎃All LODs 🎃Photos on CAS below cut line 🎃HQ Compatible 🎃Custom Thumbnails ⚠️Known problem: Some hairs/antennas can overlap with horns and animations… well you know can lead to spooky events where horns appear to have impaled another living being or nonliving being 👀

If you download my CC it means your agree with my T.O.U (English/Español/日本語). TLDR here

～LOD Information～ LOD0: 1254 poly | LOD1: 1002 poly | LOD2: 500 poly | LOD3: 250 poly

~🎃DOWNLOAD LINKS🎃~

※Choose the ones that best suits your needs, or packs you own, of course.※

🎃PATREON or SFS🎃 (Always free, no adf|y)

☆BECOME A PATREON | TIP ME ON KO-FI☆ 

Let me know if you find any problem or have any suggestions for this CC. 🙏❣️

Happy spooky simming! 🎃

📻 @simblreenofficial, @maxismatchccworld @sssvitlanz @alwaysfreecc @public-ccfinds, thank you❣️

🛹 You can find me on Patreon | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Ko-Fi | My F.A.Q. 🛹

[mlattegirl]

Headcannon that Barty found out Pandora was dead from Luna at Hogwarts.

When you think about it, there’s no way Barty Crouch Sr. would’ve kept Barty apprised of current events. Barty also wouldn’t have asked about her for fear of drawing attention to Dora. After all, he, Evan and Reg worked so hard to get her out and protect her.

I imagine the conversation went like this:

“A Guide to Nargles, Wrackspurts, and Gulping Plimpies? A great book, Ms. Lovegood, very informative.” He said with uncharacteristic fondness.

“It’s quite fascinating really, Professor Moody. My mother always used to hunt nargles. She used to say you needed to be able to stop infestations before the had a chance to root.”

Used to

USED TO

U

S

E

D

T

O

Used to

“Used to, Ms. Lovegood?” He croaks, “Your mother not searching for mythical creatures in her old age?” He hopes, beyond hope, he hopes, she can’t be gone Dora can’t be -

“My mother’s dead, Professor. She died…”

The rest is drowned out by the static in Barty’s mind.

No. No. NO. Pandora can’t be gone. Not Evan’s sister. Not their Dora. They worked so hard to get her out. He failed her. He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t protect any of them. Reg, Cas, Ev, Dora. They all died. And he was here. He failed them.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Cambiare

Chapter Thirty Five

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Both bands and crew, Madison, Alice and Max Miller, Cas' brother Jimmy mentioned, Alastair

Word Count: 3241

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, drinking and mild drug use, smoking cigarettes , Kevin is still a shit and we love him for it, fundraiser fluff, first show in Vegas then somebody shows up to ruin Dean's winning streak. SAFE House is a real organization, but all information about them in this fic is fictional, including locations, organizers and fundraiser protocols.

Series Masterlist

The desert sun shined down, even in mid-March, you were grateful for sunglasses as you walked across the parking lot of the furniture store that was hosting the fundraiser. Part of the core principles of SAFE House and organizations like it was its discretion, so nothing that night was taking place near the actual houses where families escaping domestic violence resided. The main office was tucked into a back corner of a row of single story businesses and also a good distance away.

Behind you was the band in ball caps and sunglasses, Bobby and Annie, while Benny, Cesar, Jesse and Chief followed behind. Charlie and the rest of the crew were setting up at the venue for the following nights’ performances. Victor and SPS had other plans for the night before their Vegas debut, but that was understandable. Plus, they sent their support both in person and via social media.

Alice Miller, the Director of Outreach, met you at the registration booth and gave you a bundle of volunteer badges and tickets for the food stands as well as a map of the grounds. 

“We are so grateful for you being here and helping spread the word. We’ve barely been able to get away from the phones since you mentioned the event on the radio this morning. We’re expecting a record breaking year for the carnival.”

Careful to not seem too unsurprised, you downplayed what you expected to be a very busy night. “It’s the least we could do. Now— where did you want the band?”

“Max?” Alice called a younger man over. “Max is my stepson, and he’s in charge of volunteer assignments. While I’ll be around, Max will be able to answer any questions better than I would.”

The guy seemed a little awkward, but he also seemed to at least recognize who he was talking to. “Alright, guys, glad to have you. I have the band assigned two two hour long stints at the Dunk Tank, the Photo Booth, and the Face Painting stand. Your call on if you stick to one station or switch it up. I’ll leave the list with your publicist. Breaks are expected, but please let somebody know when you need one so we can make the swap as seamless as possible. Your team members are welcome to participate, or just stand guard, but please remember we are as low contact as possible with crowd control.”

You had clocked a good chunk of guys you suspected to be plain clothed police officers donning security vests at the next table. You kept your thoughts to yourself on that matter, as long as the families and participants were safe, you were happy.

“Thanks, Max. I gave them the spiel on the ride over. Can we get some group shots with you and the other employees before we get into our stations?”

“Of course, give me ten minutes and we can get everyone together. I’ll give you a walkie, too, just in case. Though we don’t have enough for everyone.”

“Understood.”

You gave him a firm nod and clipped the communicator to your back pocket. He ducked out of the small tent, while you stepped back towards the group you came with, so the line of other volunteers behind you could get signed in. You glanced down the clipboard with the empty blocks of scheduled time at each of the stations. 

Kevin and Dean were on you in an instant.

“Please put me anywhere but the face painting. I can’t draw for shit,” Kevin begged.

“Sam either, don’t do it, Trouble. It will be a mess,” Dean warned.

“Okay, well, Dunk Tank is going to have to be an all or last stint because nobody is going to be able to pose for pictures or do face-painting when they’re soaked to the bone,” you reasoned out loud.

You turned and spoke louder. “Alright, Pam and Annie, let’s have you do the face painting. If nothing else you can just do exaggerated makeup looks.”

“Sounds good to me,” Annie said. While Pam sort of cocked her head and considered if this was the best course of action.

“Lee and Sam are getting the Photobooth first, if you get bored or overwhelmed we’ll swap you guys for the Dunk Tank. But what we really need are hecklers, and I think these two assholes would be best for the job.” You gestured to Dean and Kevin, the two devils over your shoulders.

“You know there are easier ways to see me with my shirt off,” Dean murmured, but didn’t argue with his assignment.

You turned and looked up at him, your reflection shining back at you in his sunglasses, which only made you more defensive. “If I wanted to sell skin, I’d send Sam over there first. But just for that, you’re booked all night. Happy chafing, Dean-o.”

Kevin cackled. “She just pwned you so bad!”

“Shut up, Kevin,” you and Dean said at the same time.

You tried to see if Dean had just been teasing, but your annoyance and curiosity were short lived when Bobby walked up and took the envelope of lanyards out of your grip, and started handing them out.

Somewhere beyond the entrance and registration booths a megaphone sounded, gathering everyone together for the pictures you requested and a quick information session.

The carnival was scheduled from four to nine, hitting the afterschool and afterwork crowds, but still reasonable for a weekday. Even in Vegas, locals had normal schedules most of the time. You took turns with the SAFE House’s media director taking pictures and gesturing people into position. Carefully you had them frame the band, Annie, Alice and the rest of the board in varying shots of size and distance. You should have brought a real camera, but your phone would have to make due for this event. There were over fifty people volunteering in addition to the security team. And every one of them was smiling at you, it was infectious.

It was going to be a good night.

You patrolled the grounds, gathering pictures of the band at their different booths in various poses and levels of embarrassment. Dean was the first one in the water and once he sunk, the crowd went nuts. His line snaked around the Fun House and back towards the Port-o-Potties. 

Kevin had more success heckling Dean than those throwing at his target, but he, too, was drenched before long. It only added to the care-free atmosphere. Even though you knew Dean would have paid a pretty penny to be the one tossing balls in Kevin’s direction himself.

Sam and Lee started off pretty stiff with the Photo Booth, but once a group of preschoolers busted out the feather boas and other accessories, they caved like a house of cards. Neither man could deny kids, especially ones that might have been hurt at some point in their young lives, so they turned up the charm and silliness and had everyone in stitches before they took their dinner break.

Pamela and Annie had the quietest station. It was rather amusing, and a little surreal, that round after round of kids waited in line, picked out their designs, and sat still for the whole process before their parents, guardians, or grandparents recognized Annie Hawkins as the artist behind the butterflies or dragons now at their sides.

Pamela’s entire being screamed rockstar or badass. But as the drummer of the band, she was the least known by name, which never seemed to bother her. No, her confidence was unique in that it was a genuine, god-given, lack of shame. Something you had envied for a long time. So when only a handful of people asked for her picture along with her creations, she didn’t bat an eye. She just winked at the kids as they went about their nights and waved.

By nightfall, the crowd had reached capacity. The sounds of the various rides and games were constant and the bright lights kept the area surveyable. However, the temperature started to drop and the Dunk Tanks themselves weren’t well lit, which equated to Kevin and Dean’s station beginning to lose some of its luster. 

“Okay! Let’s see what you got! Come on folks— this is for a great cause!” Kevin spouted.

“Freezing my nuts off of here! Hey big guy, think you could dunk me?”

You stage whispered, “this is a family event— keep your flirting to your own time!”

“Har-har!” Dean mock laughed.

You took another picture, but your flash really wasn’t the best with the Fun House lights offsetting it. Dean was dunked again and you asked Max over the walkie if you could end the line. It was a little after eight at night and between the cooler night air and the remaining people waiting, they deserved to see the finish line. 

After a few seconds, you got permission to send Benny and Jesse to curtail new customers, “yeah, okay. We’ll start closing up those stations first, ease out of the night.”

You texted Bobby to start warming up the bus before making your way through the crowd to let the rest of the team know to wrap it up. Sam and Lee actually were already closed up, their tent had been packed up and they just sat sipping on flat beer from the one kiosk with a liquor license. Annie and Pamela had turned into more of a selfie and autograph booth then a face painting stand, but no one seemed to mind. 

“We’ve got the all clear, meet at the bus in ten,” you let them know. Casually, you headed back to the Dunk Tanks to ensure the soggy bottom boys weren’t mobbed once they were back on solid ground.

Cesar, brilliant man that he was, showed up with a pair of fleece blankets from the bus just as the final set of balls were handed to Benny and Jesse. You grinned at him in gratitude, but had to film the final dunks for prosperity’s sake. 

“Come on Benny! Let ‘im have it!” you bellowed as the head roadie wound up.

Jesse immediately sent Kevin into the depths, forfeiting the remaining two throws, and letting his husband help the smaller man off the platform and into a blanket.

Benny missed the first two balls, which Dean was not going to let him live it down. “Oh, he’s on the ropes! Look he’s not gonna make it, I should just climb down. That blanket is a-calling to me!”

“Just shut your trap, will ya?” Benny muttered.

“Make me, big boy!”

“Does he always flirt when he’s nervous?” you asked, knowing full well it was being recorded.

“Nah, darlin’. He’s showboating. He only flirts like this to make up for something.”

“Oh yeah? What am I making up for Benny? Cuz your aim is the only thing lacking here!”

With movie magic precision, Benny sank Dean on his last throw. The remaining crowd erupted and you scanned the area before sneaking closer to get Dean’s grumpy face as he crawled out of the tank and down the ladder.

“About time!” He called over his shoulder before Cesar could wrap him up too. Crouched over and shivering, Dean grinned for the camera before you hit the stop button on the video. Everyone laughed and joked while Dean and Kevin tried to dry off. After gathering their hats, phones, wallets, and socks and shoes, everyone left for the parking lot and the bus back to the Strip and the hotel.

You stopped at the entrance, dropped off the walkie talkie and your lanyards with Max’s crew. You made your way across the parking lot to the corner that Bobby had claimed for the bus, turning on your notifications for the first time all night. It was going to be a long night of scrolling and posting, but it was a good kind of busy to be.

The bass pulsed through the amps and across the floor, like an omniscient earthquake. You felt the heat from the stage effects across your skin. Pamela was taking the end of A Reaper’s Offering and taking over for her solo. The lights dimmed along the edge of the stage and everything focused on her. You felt the buzz of an incoming message on your hip from the walkie, but you couldn’t hear a single word.

“There she goes!” Dean rumbled somewhere amongst the shadows. The crowd responded then hushed itself just as quickly, awe-inspired.

Charlie has so much more at her disposal in this set up and she used everything she could to empathize the epicness of Pamela’s prowess, each drum was focused by its own color light. Pamela kept Charlie on her toes as she hopped from one to another, sometimes hitting three or four at a time. It was mesmerizing.

Your voice was hoarse already and still you screamed as she ramped it up to the big finale. Even in the wing off stage, you couldn’t hear yourself over the racing beat.

Lee whistled with two fingers in his mouth, shrill and celebratory. And still Pamela rocked on.

Sam slid down his E string, pulsing beneath her. You noticed how the others drifted back into position, four more measures and Kevin joined in. As the notes blended together Pamela pulled back, like a band of horses behind well-worn reins. 

“Lead the way, Pammy!” Dean broke the spell and Pamela thumped into a familiar opening.

They weren’t stopping and slowing down for Vegas. ‘Abandon All Hope’ was left out of the first night’s setlist and the suggestive ‘Twigs and Twine’ swapped in instead. If you had to bet, ‘Brother’s Keeper’ wasn’t going to be featured either. And you were right, instead they played ‘Give Me My Ax’ for Lee to completely annihilate.

Charlie dropped the lights on them as Dean finished ‘Not Mine’ and the crowd did not stop for a full five minutes. You felt like you were tethered to a comet, soaring and burning alongside those brighter than you could ever hope to be.

The encores flew by and SPS joined them on stage, bowing and waving and blowing kisses to the insatiable masses. You knew the venue had photographers in the pit and along the box seats, but you couldn’t wait to get your hands on some fan shots. This was a show banners and websites were made of, raw and glistening.

Everyone descended the stage and flooded the wing you were occupying. The moment Dean’s eyes caught yours, his entire face changed and you both went to each other. Unthinking, two magnets across the mess of stagehands and band members just as he bent down to grab you into a hug, you hesitated, feeling unseen eyes in the upper levels.

You grabbed his elbow and drew him in further into the belly of backstage.

“What’s up?” Dean’s face was worried now.

“Nothing, just didn’t want somebody to see us.”

Dean’s brow pinched and he sighed, but stayed at your side. “How was it? Have fun?!”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I’m as sweaty as you are!”

“Well, I’m gonna hit the dressing room. If you need a shirt, I’ve got extra. Because there’s no way we’re stopping soon. Those high rollers ain’t seen nothing like the Winchesters in a hot minute.”

“Fine! But I’m capping you at 50k for the night, young man. Somebody has got to rein you in, especially since Jimmy isn’t on retainer anymore.”

“Ugh! Well, we’ll see about that.” Dean winked and threw his arm over your shoulder and walked you both to the pandemonium that was the dressing room.

You were very careful while out with the band to stay on the vertical side of inebriation. It was equal parts fear of embarrassing yourself and fear of losing control of one or more of the band. After Dean and Cas’ explosion in Chicago last spring, you rarely mixed substances, especially while somewhere as heavily monitored as Vegas.

A little No Doz and a side of vodka and tonic would carry you most of the night. If nothing got too crazy. Eventually, you’d snag a cigarette, but casino-hopping would have to wait. Dean was on a roll, literally.

Dice in theory was an easy game. The tables with all the Pass and Don’t Pass bet bullshit made Craps hard for you to follow, especially when you were too busy keeping an eye on everyone. Madison and Sam were getting handsy at a Blackjack Table. Pam had found her machine for the night and was racking up a nice total with just penny slots. While taking shots of whiskey in stunning regularity.

Lee and Dean were both rolling dice, but the tables faced the opposite direction and you were almost certain one or both of them were trying to hustle somebody. The house always won, but sometimes people got cocky and they thought these cornfed boys from Nebraska were easy prey. It was fun to watch.

If nerve wracking.

Dean’s eyes danced over his dice, everyone gathered held their breath as the dealer called out the victory. Dean jumped up, punched the air, and crowed with abandon. He was untouchable in his brilliance. It made something inside you shiver. Sometimes you forgot he was real.

“Alright, time to head out!” Dean decided, gathering his chips and heading to the teller line to cash out. You nodded to the rest of the band, with an annoyed eye roll from Pamela, but everyone followed suit. Benny and the Chief had drawn straws for that night’s detail, which meant Jesse and Cesar would have your backs the following night. It still felt weird to be Tiny and Bela-less, but it was also one less thing for you to keep track of.

The crowds outside of Cesar’s Palace were full of tourists as you stepped back out onto the strip. A rush of waiting photographers gravitated to your group the second Sam’s head cleared the exit. Fucking Sasquatch was too easy to spot.

“Guys! Fantastic show tonight!”

“Dean! Dean! Where’s Bela? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, huh?”

“Pamela! Lee! Are you guys back together? Will we see another Vegas wedding from you two?”

“Sam! Who’s the lucky lady?”

Everyone ignored them the best you could, keeping your heads down and letting Benny hold them off.

“There he is! The coward has returned!” A nasally voice made its way through the chaos and Dean stopped in his tracks. You dropped back and tried to drag him forward, while ignoring the jeers from the other paps. 

“That’s a good girl, follow your mommy. Don’t want to get left behind,” the voice said senselessly.

“Dean?” you said, nerves dialed up to eleven.

Dean shook his head and scanned the crowd until he spotted a cameraless, beady-eyed face. “Benny! Keep that fucker away from us,” Dean yelled as he about-faced and took the group in a different direction. Benny fell back and stepped up to the taller creep, clearly making a point of starting a conversation as the other paps scrambled to keep up with you.

Dean dragged you and Pam by the wrists, keeping you at his sides until he decided you were in the clear outside the next stop. You had no idea who that guy was. After twenty minutes, Benny finally caught up with you guys and something in his eyes told you it wasn’t over.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 36: Acciaccato

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 9

You can read previous chapters here

Summary: Y/n learns the truth about her powers. When Azriel is injured rescuing Elain, Y/n tends to his wounds.

Word count: 3.9 K.

When Y/n woke, Nesta and Elain were sitting by her side.

“What happened? Did we-”.

“We won. Barely” Nesta informed her, her voice low, her eyes flickering with the weight of recent events.

“What about the Shadowsinger and the General?” Y/n’s voice was shaky, tension creeping into her body as she leaned forward.

“Azriel is fine. Cas- Cassian is unconscious” Nesta replied, her expression hardening, though a shadow of sadness dulled her eyes.

It wasn’t like Y/n didn’t believe her sister, but she needed to see for herself. The fear gnawing at her chest wouldn’t relent until she knew Azriel had made it through.

“You should rest” Nesta suggested.

“I’ve rested enough” Y/n replied, her tone heavy with a deeper meaning that spanned far beyond this moment. Since her turning, resting had felt like a futile endeavor.

Outside the tent, Feyre had just returned, and Rhys was informing her of what had happened. Y/n was about to approach them when her eyes caught sight of the Shadowsinger. She unconsciously moved towards him, her heartbeat quickening.

Azriel’s gaze snapped to her, his face and hands smeared with blood, some dried, some still fresh. His usually composed demeanor faltered as he rushed toward her. “Are you alright? You should be resting” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” she replied, frowning as she scanned him for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“When I carried you back…we thought you were dead. Your body was ice-cold. What you did back there-”.

“I saw that commander” she interrupted, not focusing on a word he said. Her eyes narrowing as she circled around him, checking his back. ”He was about to drive a sword through your chest”.

“He missed by a few inches” Azriel murmured, but the faint grimace tugging at his lips betrayed the pain he was hiding.

“You should get it checked” Y/n insisted, her brow furrowing. Her fingers hovered near the blood-soaked fabric at his back, hesitant but aching to touch, to confirm he was still whole.

“I will. Once the healer is done with Ca- Cassian” his voice dropped, a tinge of worry surfacing.

“Is he badly injured?” she asked, a knot tightening in her stomach. “Is he going to-”.

“He’ll be fine. We have the best healers” he said, though the tension in his posture didn’t ease. “Y/n, what you did back there, did you-”.

“What did I do?” her brows knitted together in confusion.

“You don’t remember?”.

Y/n shook her head, rubbing her temple as a wave of exhaustion hit her “I don’t know. Things are blurry”.

“It’s alright, we can talk later. Get some rest” Azriel placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch meant to reassure, though it only made her frustration bubble to the surface.

“I am done resting” she snapped, her patience thinning. The word itself grated on her nerves.

Before Azriel could respond, Rhys emerged from Cassian’s tent and strode toward them “Glad to see you’re awake. We could’ve used-”.

“She doesn’t remember what happened” Azriel interjected, his gaze steady on Rhys.

Rhys’ face softened, a hint of understanding crossing his features “What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked.

“The commander. He gutted your General, and your Shadowsinger rushed to his side, trying to hold his guts in place when another soldier came up behind him and was about to kill him. Then I felt something… leave my body, and the next thing I know, I woke up here” her eyes flickered between the two males “What happened?”.

“You unleashed a thunderstorm on Hybern” Rhys said her, watching her carefully.

“It was already raining. Why would you think I did it?” she argued, her eyes narrowing at Rhys before glancing at Azriel, waiting for him to deny it. But he didn’t.

“We all saw it coming from where you stood, and Nesta confirmed it” Rhys added.

Y/n shook her head, a hand drifting to her temple “Well, I can’t remember any of that”.

“What were you feeling before you passed out?” Azriel asked, his gaze searching hers.

“I- it wasn’t just one thing. It was a mix… maybe fear or helplessness. I don’t know” she admitted, frustration lacing her tone.

“Maybe the overload of emotions triggered it” Azriel suggested, glancing at Rhys, who only nodded thoughtfully.

—

Later that day, Amren arrived with a book in hand, ready to locate the Cauldron with Nesta. Rhys and Azriel were helping Cassian sit up when Y/n, Nesta, Feyre, and Amren entered the tent.

“Hey, Y/n?” Cassian’s voice, hoarse but strong, cut through the tension. Y/n braced herself for a sarcastic remark, but his eyes held something different. “Thank you for what you did. If it weren’t for you, Az and I would be dead”.

“I didn’t do anything... At least not consciously” she replied, her voice quiet as her gaze dropped to the floor.

“Nonetheless, you saved our lives”.

She gave a brief nod, before moving to stand beside her sister, who was ready to follow Amren’s lead.

Something went wrong while locating the Cauldron. Nesta’s eyes remained closed, her grip on the bones and stones tightening. Feyre reached out to her mind, her voice sharp and urgent “Open your fist, now” Feyre screamed, and Nesta eventually let go.

“What the hell happened?” Y/n demanded, her pulse racing as she knelt beside her sister.

“The Cauldron… it’s-” Nesta struggled to find the right words.

“The size of Hybern’s army is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and they’ve crossed into the human lands”.

—

At dinner, they were joined by Tarquin and Varian. The latter wasted no time pulling Amren into a passionate embrace before the two disappeared into the night. The rest of the group tried to keep the mood light, though tension hummed beneath the surface. Y/n, however, couldn’t relax. Her mind was a storm of thoughts, fears clawing at her insides.

One by one, everyone retired to their tents, except for Y/n. She was staring blankly at her untouched plate. Azriel decided to remain with her, noticing her unease and distantness throughout the evening.

“Y/n?” he called, his voice was soft as he approached, his eyes keenly observing her.

“Mm?” she murmured, still staring at the edge of the table, lost in her thoughts.

“I think the stone works. It protected me during the battle” he said, trying to distract her from whatever worries she had in mind.

Her gaze finally lifted to meet his “I don’t think so. You still almost died” she replied flatly, her expression was unreadable, almost devoid of all emotions.

“But I didn't“ he countered gently. “It was a close shot but I didn’t” he reassured her.

“Not yet”.

“It’s not the first time”.

“I know, and I sense it won’t be the last” she replied, her eyes flickering back to the table.

Azriel moved closer, his gaze steady “We will be alright” he tried to put her mind at rest.

Y/n’s lips thinned into a tight line “Will we? I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse”.

“Nothing will happen to you, I pr-”.

“Do not finish that sentence” she interrupted, her eyes snapping to his “And don’t make promises you can’t keep. The last time y-” she cut herself off, shaking her head as she looked away “just please don’t”.

Azriel’s face softened, a hint of guilt visible on it “I’m sorry”.

“It’s fine” she replied, though her voice lacked conviction.

They sat in silence, the weight of unsaid words pressing down on them. Then suddenly, Y/n stiffened, her senses prickling. His shadows seemed to react at the same time, curling tighter around him and stretching toward her.

“Something is wrong. The Cauldron-” she started, her voice tense.

“I know. I felt it too” he murmured, already on his feet, scanning the area. They went outside and were met with the rest of the team, who also felt its presence. It had an eerie voice that could only be heard by those made. Nonetheless, it made everyone feel uncomfortable.

Moments later, the eerie presence vanished, leaving them all on edge.

“Where’s Elain?” Y/n‘s heart leapt into her throat as she turned to Nesta, panic flashing in her eyes.

Nesta’s face paled and the three sisters ran to their tent, but it was empty. Elain was already gone.

“We have to get her back” Y/n demanded, her chest tightening with a fierce sense of urgency.

Nesta shook her head, her face grim “How? I’ve seen the size of that army and if Elain’s there, it’s impossible to get her out”.

“I’m getting her back” Azriel declared, his voice low but laced with iron determination.

“Then you will die” Nesta said, her voice cracking with both anger and fear.

Azriel turned to Y/n, his expression softer now “I’m getting her back. I give you my word”.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to believe him, but the terror gripping her heart was all too real “Y- you can’t. You’ll-”.

“Have a little faith in me” his eyes softened as they locked with hers, shadows still swirling around him.

“I’m coming with you” Feyre interrupted, as she glamoured herself to look like Tamlin’s priestess.

Azriel nodded, but Y/n’s eyes remained fixed on him “Just be careful” she said to both of them “bring them back safe” she pleased softly, her voice breaking slightly at the end.

He gave her a reassuring nod before turning to face Feyre, as they winnowed away.

Y/n was pacing relentlessly outside the tent, her thoughts spinning out of control. Every possible worst case scenario flashed through her mind, twisting her stomach into knots. She barely noticed Amren approaching until she was standing beside her, watching her with those sharp ancient eyes. “I heard what happened earlier” Amren said, her tone almost casual, though there was an edge to it. “Don’t you think you should try to at least harness your powers? You may very well need them soon”.

Y/n scoffed, rubbing her temples in frustration “Even if I wanted to, I don’t know where to start and there isn’t enough time”.

“Excuses” Amren shot back, her silver eyes narrowing slightly. “I can teach you. You can either wait here and let your anxiety eat you alive, or you can do something useful with your time”.

“Fine. Where do we start?” Y/n let out a heavy breath.

“First, I’d tell you to clear your mind, but I know better than to expect that from you right now” Amren replied, her lips quirking into the faintest of smirks. She gestured for Y/n to follow her into the dining tent. “We should go inside for the next steps”.

The two of them sat at the table, with Rhys and Cassian nearby, deep in discussion over war strategies. Nesta silently followed them, her gaze flickering between her sister and Amren, clearly intrigued by what was about to happen.

“Tell me exactly what you were feeling and thinking when you unleashed your powers” Amren commanded, her gaze sharp and penetrating.

Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of the question “I already told your High-”.

“Tell me again. In more detail” Amren pressed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/n hesitated, but then began recounting the mix of emotions that had overwhelmed her. She spoke of the fear, the desperation. She omitted one tiny detail that she didn’t think was significant and oh, was she wrong. She didn’t tell about the raw terror she felt just at the thought of losing Azriel, which would’ve probably made things much easier for Amren. She wasn’t ready to confront that yet, even if it might help. Still, she relayed everything else as best as she could.

“So, it’s clear that strong emotions are the key” Amren declared, more to herself than to Y/n.

“I felt strong emotions before, though. Rage, and a lot of it. And nothing happened back then” Y/n protested, her frustration mounting.

“Perhaps you weren’t under enough pressure, or the situation wasn’t life- threatening enough” Amren mused. “Stress and danger may be the trigger for your powers”.

“Great” Y/n muttered sarcastically. “So, to test that theory, I should just throw myself into dange? I wonder where we can find such a dangerous situation. Oh, wait, I can go face off against some of Hybern’s army”.

Amren shot her a pointed look. “Or perhaps it’s not just your life in danger. It could be the lives of those you care about that trigger it”.

“Elain is in danger right now, and nothing has happened” Y/n countered, her voice rising in frustration.

“Perhaps you need to see it with your own eyes” Amren suggested coolly.

“We’re not testing that theory” Y/n snapped back, anger flaring in her chest.

Amren raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed “I’m simply speculating about the possibilities. Close your eyes, try reaching for it”.

Y/n did as instructed but a few minutes later she complained “This isn’t working. I don’t feel anything. There’s nothing there”.

“Are you always this impatient?” Amren asked, her voice dry.

“This is me being patient” Y/n retorted, her frustration bubbling over.

Amren sighed, shaking her head. “Luckily, I don’t have time for patience lessons. Let’s try another approach”. She leaned forward, her gaze narrowing as she studied Y/n’s face. “You said you felt fear. Fear of what exactly? And if you could’ve done something in that moment, what would you have done?”.

Y/n’s discomfort grew under the weight of Amren’s questions, but she didn’t back down. “If I could, I would’ve fought beside your friends instead of watching from afar. I would’ve killed Hybern’s soldiers myself”.

“And what were you afraid of?” Amren pressed, her eyes never leaving Y/n’s face.

Y/n hesitated, a lump forming in her throat. “That we’d lose. That everyone on the battlefield would die”.

Amren’s expression was unreadable. “I thought you didn’t care about anyone on the battlefield” she reminded her, a subtle edge to her voice.

“I don’t” Y/n lied, her voice tight. “But if they died, it would leave me and my sisters defenseless against the King”.

“So you were thinking of your sisters?”.

Y/n’s jaw clenched “Not directly”.

Amren leaned in closer. “I need to know the exact thought and feeling you had before you unleashed your powers”.

“I don’t remember, alright?” Y/n snapped, her chest tightening under the pressure. The questions were too much, forcing her to confront things she wasn’t ready to face. “Is this how you’ve been training Nesta? Asking a million questions about her feelings”.

Amren’s eyes gleamed with irritation. “The two situations are different”. “Where do you think you’re going, girl?” She demanded as Y/n stood abruptly.

“To get some fresh air” Y/n muttered, storming out of the tent before Amren could say anything else.

The cool night air did little to calm her racing thoughts. She barely had time to breathe before she heard one of the soldiers shout “Healer!”.

Her heart dropped. A spark of electricity emerged from her hands, as she rushed toward the commotion. When she arrived, she found her sisters and Azriel all in one piece-almost. The small spark disappeared as soon as she reached them. Feyre was clutching her shoulder, wounded but standing. A human girl stood beside her, eyes wide with fear. Azriel was carrying Elain, who was covered in mud and scratched, but alive.

But Azriel… his wings were shredded, and his back was a mess of blood and torn flesh. Blood was dripping everywhere. He was barely standing, his magic the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

Y/n’s body went cold as she watched the scene unfold. Nesta ran past her to embrace Feyre, but Y/n stood frozen, her eyes fixed on Azriel.

“Elain isn’t hurt” Feyre’s voice whispered into Y/n’s mind, but still, Y/n didn’t move.

Rhys moved to take Elain from Azriel’s arms and placed her down with her sisters. Y/n finally broke from her trance and walked toward the Shadowsinger, her heart hammering in her chest.

“We need to get you to Thesan. Right now” Rhys ordered as Y/n opened her mouth to say something.

—-

The sight of his torn skin and bruised muscles made Y/n’s stomach twist with both anger and fear.

“We need to get this off you” the healer gestured to his Illyrian leather shirt. “You, help me. It seems his wounds are worse than usual. I need my other kit. Meanwhile, try to stop the bleeding” she instructed Y/n before leaving the two alone.

The thought of undressing him, not entirely, but enough to expose more of him than she’d ever seen, made her pulse quicken. She tried to push that thought aside, reminding herself this was about his injuries. About keeping him alive.

Her delicate fingers moved toward the buckles on his chest, where the straps of his Illyrian armor crisscrossed over his torso. She hesitated for a mere second, feeling the heat of his body against her ice cold hands, before she started to unbuckle the straps. As her fingers brushed against his skin, she noticed the way his breath hitched, the subtle shift in his posture. Azriel’s eyes never left her face as she finally loosened the last of the buckles. She carefully slid the chest straps off his shoulders, her hands brushing along the hard planes of his arms.

She moved to stand directly in front of him, their faces inches apart now. While his gaze was locked on her, she hadn’t dared to look up at him.

Gently, she tugged at the ruined leathers, her fingers slipping beneath the material. He raised his arms slightly, grimacing as he did, and she helped guide the leathers over his head, being as careful as possible not to disturb his wings or aggravate his wounds.

Y/n knelt beside him trying to keep her hands steady as she reached for the bandages. As she placed the bandages to his back, she tried not to think about the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. Each time she moved, their skin brushed. Even though her fingers were cold, as if she had touched ice before handling him, she felt really hot.

Y/n’s voice trembled with barely controlled anger as she finally broke the silence. “You’re reckless”.

Azriel winced as she pulled the bandage tighter “you’re angry” he murmured, his voice strained. His hazel eyes were watching her, following her every movement, watching the way her fingers fumbled with the bandages or the way they gently touched his skin. For a moment he forgot about the pain.

“Of course I’m angry! You could’ve died!” Her voice cracked, a mix of frustration and fear clawing at her throat.

“I promised I’d get your sisters back safely” he replied, his words quiet but firm, as if the pain of his wounds was nothing compared to the weight of the promise he made her.

“You should’ve been more careful. I’m not trading one life for another” her voice dropped as she wrapped the bandage around his torso, her hand brushing the hard ridges of his abdomen as she tightened it. “Lately, you’ve been injured way too often” she muttered, feeling every muscle, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She had to focus on her anger or she’d lose control.

“It’s part of the job” Azriel responded, a soft smile tugging at his lips despite the pain. His wings twitched slightly as her hands skimmed across the sensitive skin near the base of his wings, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let her work, as if her touch was both grounding and maddening at the same time.

“Your job sucks” Y/n spoke, her voice calmer now, but she was still mad at him.

“It keeps people safe and someone has to do it”.

“Well, if you must do it, then make sure you don’t get yourself killed” she muttered, her eyes sharp as she wrapped another bandage around him.

“I’m trying” he said, his smile growing slightly as he watched her fuss over him.

“Where were your shadows? Couldn’t they protect you?” she asked, her voice softening as concern seeped into her tone.

“It’s more complicated than that”.

“Well, tell them I’m pissed at them, too” a small smile pulled at her lips despite herself.

A soft chuckle escaped Azriel’s lips, the sound was warm and teasing.

“You think this is funny?” she shot him a glare.

“No” he replied, his tone light, “but the shadows do”.

“Tell them if I catch them, I’ll- I’ll shine a light on them or something” she grumbled.

“Alright, alright. No need for violence” he teased, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Fine, but only because you’re injured”.

“Thank you. I appreciate that”.

“I should be the one thanking you. You brought my sisters back to me, alive. Thank you, Shadowsinger” Y/n said gently, her voice barely more than a whisper. At her words, warmth flickered in Azriel’s shadowed gaze.

When she finished bandaging him, she hesitated, her eyes flickering over his injuries. She wanted to hug him, to reassure herself he was alright, but she was afraid of hurting him in the process. Instead, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Her lips were warm and gentle, and as she pulled away, her heart skipped a beat.

Azriel froze at the contact, his breath catching as his gaze flicked back to hers. The sensation of her lips on his skin was startling, but more than that, it was the tenderness that undid him. She was usually cold, sharp-tongued, always quick to argue or throw up walls between herself and everyone else. He had come to know her as fierce and unyielding, her strength more often shown through defiance than gentleness. But this- this was different. He hadn’t realized she could touch him with such care, with a softness that made the cold distance between them feel like it had vanished. He hadn’t realized she was capable of such gentleness, especially not towards him.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the tension between them thick and electric. His lips parted as if to say something, but before he could, the door to the tent rustled, and Thesan entered, Rhys and the healer at his side.

Y/n quickly stepped back, her heart still racing in her chest, the memory of Azriel’s skin against her lips lingering like a ghost between them “Took you long enough” she blurted, taking out her frustration on the wrong person. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

“Play nice” Rhys ordered gently, though there was a smile in his eyes.

She muttered an apology to Thesan before stepping back to let him tend to Azriel.

“I’ll see you soon” Y/n turned and quietly left the tent.

When she returned to her tent, she found her three sisters fast asleep, curled up together, their faces peaceful despite everything that had happened. The sight tugged at something deep inside her, something warm, and painfully bittersweet.

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d slept like this. It felt like a distant memory, from a time long before wars, powers, and sacrifices. Not wanting to disturb them, Y/n settled into a chair across from them, watching their steady breaths.

For a moment, her mind quieted, the storm of thoughts fading to a gentle hum. She wanted to capture that moment, to engrave the image of their peaceful faces into her memory forever, hoping the memory of this calm would be enough to carry her through the chaos ahead.

And in the silence, sleep slowly claimed her.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @slytherintaco @aehllita @nebarious  @t0uch-starved-h0e @bravo-delta-eccho  @sylvermoon @going-through-shit @latinxbipride @i-am-infinite @azrielrot @fuckingsimp4azriel @theravenphoenix26 @hanatsuki-hime @fantanbietsson @rcarbo1 @weasleymagic

[cherryfennec]

Quickly wrote a long overdue summary of the Bad End AU Prologue that I can send to people if they ever ask me about the plot. Ahem!

THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR PAPER MARIO 64, PAPER MARIO TTYD AND SUPER PAPER MARIO.

The Prologue:

The story begins following the first Paper Mario game in the series where Bowser originally obtains the Star Rod. During the final battle between Mario and Bowser, Peach watches as her hero in red starts to loose to the Koopa King, due to not being able to match the Star Rods accumulated power. She gets a chance to make a wish to the stars, however instead of wishing for the Star Rods magic to be nullified (like in the original game), she instead wishes for her and Mario, who is at the brink of Game Overing, to be taken to safety immiediately. The heroes proceed to stay low during his recovery, planning how to stop Bowser who continues his evil deeds unbothered for now.

After this we skip to the events of the second game in the series, The Thousand Year Door. Just like in the canon, Peach invites Mario to search for the hidden treasure of Rogue Port. Due to the rumors, she believes that whatever they find behind the legendary sealed Door can help them defeat the now Star Powered Bowser. Mario of course accepts.

The plot continues similarly to the original game plot, up until Chapter 4 that is. Mario proceeds to get his name and body stolen by Doo_liss, however in this timeline he and Vivian happen to be out of luck since the crows who originally had the information about the tricksters name are nowhere to be seen. Mario becomes trapped in Twilight Town, with his memory starting to fade as a side effect of turning into a shadow. Meanwhile Doo_liss leaves the town, with now 4 Crystal Stars in his pocket, and proceeds to exploit his new identity. Shortly after he disbands the party, simply because he has no care for the original quest.

He is later found by the two remaining Shadows, Beldam and Marilyn, who convince him to give up the Stars after peaking his curiosity about what's behind The Thousand Year Door.

With no more Mario around, the remaining stars are discovered with the map that was left in Doo_lisses pocket and Peach is ultimately used as a vessel for the Shadow Queen who has world domination plans of her own. Doo_liss also swears his loyalty to her, alongside the remaining Shadow Sisters, since he doesn't want to get on the bad side of someone who could end him right then and there when he can just follow some orders when summoned once in a while and use the rest of his time for having fun.

The Queen returns to the Mushroom Kingdom and proceeds to make a treaty with Bowser, who returns the castle and the rule over Toads to her under a few conditions.

After this we do yet another skip, this time referring to the plot of the third game, Super Paper Mario. Count Bleck arrived as the castles doorstep, making a proposition to the Queen of The Mushroom Kingdom. He promises an artifact of great power that could destroy whole worlds, known as the Chaos Heart by the Ancients. As an old demon herself she recognises the potential of gaining it and agrees help summon it.

With little trouble to convince Bowser to marry her, the ceremony is held and The Chaos Heart appears as planned. There starts to be sudden big ruckus among the guests caused by unexpected explosions around the altar of unknown origin. Before anyone could however react, someone steals the ancient artifact and dissapears without a trace.

The thief is seen again after some time, now looking different than before as well as acting rather off with talking to seemingly air and going from being able to fulfill certain tasks to being unable to do them mere seconds later. He is recognised by Bowser as Marios brother, much to Doo_lisses annoyance.

One day the thief he just started hanging around The Mushroom Castle before being ultimately accepted as a part of the main group of evil, as uncooperative as he can be, with the Queen hoping she can one day turn him into a loyal servant or take what's rightfully hers.

The General Description of The Current Plot:

The current events of the AU revolve around the group of villains, that the main four has now become, trying to take over the rest of the land and other Kingdoms, inconveniencing and eliminating their enemies, finding artifacts of power as well adapting to the current reality. Unfortunately their plans tend to get inconvenienced, or even foiled, by their own faults such as overestimating their own abilities, being stubborn and unable to cooperate effectively often and just not getting well alongside eachother in general. In other words: hijinks ensue!

Main Events of The Story: TBA