#except the last one that's pheasant territory

[someone-you-do-not-know]

your blog is shitposts, shipposts,and simpposts. oh and i guess birds are here too or whatever.

You'd be surprised at how many tags I have for animals...

[teawaffles]

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 2

“Oh my…… I thought this would be nothing more than a war game, but it’s certainly more nerve-wracking than I expected.”

The participants had taken their places, and around five minutes had passed since the game began. Kevin was whispering to Albert beside him as they walked, while pointing the gun he’d received in every direction around him. But in contrast to the jittery man, Albert had the relaxed air of a soldier.

“Certainly, this is a feeling of tension one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In fact, the enemy might just be around that corner.”

“What!? Really?”

Panicked, Kevin’s eyes darted all around them in a fluster. That disproportionate reaction elicited a wry laugh from Albert.

“Although it’s important to be aware of your surroundings, if you’re that stiff, your movements will be slow when it’s time to fight. Please relax a little.”

“I-I see. Yes, you’re right……”

Kevin nodded. Beside him, Albert’s guard was impeccable as he watched the leaves swaying in the slight breeze.

The playing field encompassed the entire forest. That said, as it wasn’t a vast area, there was no danger of getting lost. In addition, there was a little cabin in the woods, used on a daily basis by the gamekeeper who managed the hunting grounds; as they had obtained permission to use it during the game, indoor battles were also an option.

For the purposes of safety, all players were obliged to wear spectacles shaped to resemble goggles, as well as bulletproof vests. The guns they had been issued fell into two categories: revolvers and sniper rifles. As a forfeit, and also to pass the time, eliminated players were tasked to feed pheasant chicks at a game bird nursery a good distance away.

Incidentally, Herder had also wanted to impose a severe punishment in the event a gun was damaged. Foreseeing that this would create needless worry, Moran and the others had swiftly hushed him before the words left his mouth.

Thinking back to the explanation of the rules, Kevin looked at the revolver in his hand.

“In any case, this gun is exquisitely crafted. As it was mentioned earlier that the guns used fake bullets, I imagined it would resemble a toy, but it looks exactly like the real thing.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, though it’s all due to Herder’s exceptional skill. I heard he oversaw the creation of these weapons down to the finest details.”

Kevin looked at the card attached to his gun with string. Written on it was a number 8.

“I see: so this is a measure to prevent the guns from getting lost. But if they are so important, I thought it would be safer to carve the numbers directly onto them.”

“You may be right; in which case, we may’ve caused everyone some inconvenience.”

Albert said that with a slightly apologetic tone, and Kevin waved it off.

“No, no — if anything, it reflects his passion, and I honestly respect that. Even though I work in a different field, I have a lot to learn from him as a professional.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sure Herder would be delighted to hear that,” Albert replied, with sincere joy.

However, in an instant, Kevin’s expression seemed to grow a little darker.

“Still, maybe I shouldn’t have brought Helena here after all. She absolutely insisted on coming, so I relented, but with the guns looking so real, that…… I wonder if it’ll remind her of that incident.”

Albert could sense what he was trying to say.

“For that, I sincerely apologise. This event must seem somewhat inappropriate after what she went through.”

Hearing Albert take his remark so seriously, Kevin tried to explain himself in a fluster.

“N-No, it’s alright, I did not mean it as criticism. Besides, Helena seemed to be especially enjoying herself too.”

“Nonetheless, please allow me to apologise, for it may be the case that she’s simply putting up a strong front.”

At that, Kevin cocked his head in confusion.

“……Then, why did you decide to hold this game?”

Albert’s reply sounded almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“——Because it’s part of our ‘plan’.”

“Huh?”

Unsure of the meaning behind that word, the question fell from his lips before he could stop himself. But Albert did not elaborate further.

The conversation had unwittingly ground to a halt. Just as Kevin was searching for a different topic to talk about, Albert’s sharp gaze landed on a nearby thicket.

“There’s someone there.”

“Huh? Really?”

Bewildered, Kevin looked in the same direction. Then they heard the sound of leaves rustling, and the undergrowth parted to reveal an elderly nobleman.

Seeing the person before them, Albert lowered his gun. A warm smile rose to his face.

“……So it was you, Lord Andy. I thought you were the enemy.” [1]

“Hello, Albert-kun. Just for fun, I thought I’d hide and see how long it took you both to spot me, but it seems you discovered me instantly. As expected of the young, your perceptiveness is incredibly sharp,” he laughed, ruffling his own short white hair. He was also on the same team as Albert and Kevin.

The elderly nobleman was Andy Krueger, whose estate extended across the surrounding lands; he also owned the hunting grounds on which the game was being held. Today’s game had been brought into reality after Albert proposed the idea to him.

For such an important gathering on the social calendar, one would normally be hesitant to transform it into an unorthodox event like this. But Andy had jumped at the offer, and even offered his opinions on the finer points of the game. Because of this generous and broad-minded nature of his, he also had the trust of the other nobles.

At the man’s arrival, for some reason, Kevin sighed in relief.

“Please don’t surprise me like that — unlike Lord Albert, I was frightened half to death.”

“Sorry about that, Kevin-kun. But aren’t you being too timid? Have a little more nerve!”

“I’ll do my best.”

At their friendly banter, Albert seemed curious.

“Are both of you already acquainted?”

“Yes,” Kevin affirmed. “We got to know each other when Helena’s father and I were gaining recognition in London. Ever since that time, the nobility had not looked fondly upon us, and only Lord Andy treated us as equals.”

Kevin looked gratefully at the nobleman as he said this, and Andy clapped his shoulder heartily.

“Those aristocrats are really quite averse to the changing times, it seems. But I have no interest in such dreadful traditions. Even at the gathering earlier, they were keeping their distance and saying such rude things that I had to tell them off. Although I hadn’t seen them in a while, because of that, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello— Ah, apologies.”

“No, it’s fine, Lord Andy. You don’t have to apologise,” Kevin said, waving both hands in the air. “Rather, after hearing that you went to such lengths for a good-for-nothing like me, I’m truly grateful.”

“What’s this? Timid as ever, I see,” Andy barked. “You’re an excellent businessman, so why not act like it?”

Then the elderly nobleman’s expression, which had been cheerful thus far, clouded over just a little.

“Nevertheless, I still feel sorry for your friend. At least, his daughter Helena seems to be doing well…… Have there been no clues even now?”

Kevin’s tone also grew heavy.

“……None at all. Helena believes he’s alive, but personally, I think he’s no longer……”

“He’d suddenly vanished, didn’t he?”

Out of the blue, Albert cut in. The two men were startled, but Albert continued with a somewhat knowing look.

“After the incident at the department store, I became curious, and tried doing some research into it myself. It seems there are various peculiarities about this case. For one, the store Helena’s father opened with Mr Kevin had been a success, but one day, he simply disappeared without warning. On the night he was thought to have disappeared, when he was having dinner at home, a friend testified that nothing had seemed particularly off about him.”

“Moreover, that was the last time I saw him. I never thought it would be the last conversation we’d have together……”

Kevin — the friend who’d testified — said so in a thin voice, the corners of his mouth twitching as if in self-mockery.

“Of course, at first, the police suspected that I had something to do with it. They even went to the trouble of thinking up a motive: that as a co-owner, I would stand to gain all the store’s profits if he were to disappear.”

Thinking back to that false accusation, Kevin’s shoulders drooped. Seeing that, Andy addressed him in a droll voice.

“Come now, you never know — one day he might just come home all of a sudden. I’ve told you before: there’s nothing we can do at present, and on top of that, worrying unnecessarily will only injure your health.”

“……You’re right. Besides, we’re supposed to be having fun right now: if I’m the only one being so grave, I’ll just be putting a damper on things.”

“Exactly, exactly. Well then, let’s get back to the game,” Andy urged, thumping him on the back.

Albert, who had been watching their exchange with a calm gaze, smiled gently.

“Indeed; let us focus on the competition first. By the way, it’s about time for us to get our blood pumping…… I’d like to advance deeper into enemy territory. What say you two?”

At his invitation, Kevin quickly shook his head.

“No no no! Frankly, since the start of the game, my heart’s felt like it’s about to explode! Anything more than this and it’ll stop altogether!”

But the elderly nobleman threw his head back in hearty laughter.

“You young people have so much energy, it’s making me jealous. Kevin-kun, you’ve got to watch and learn as well.”

“No…… When I think about what lies ahead, somehow my legs can’t stop shaking,” Kevin murmured weakly. His legs were indeed trembling pitifully, so much so it wouldn’t be surprising for them to give out any moment now.

Andy sighed, as if astonished.

“It can’t be helped then. Sorry, Albert-kun — it seems he can’t go on. I’d like to say that I’ll go with you in his stead, but…… for some reason, my legs have been hurting for a while now. Despite my high spirits, my years have bested me today,” he laughed wryly, his expression weak.

Albert nodded firmly.

“I understand. Well then, let’s part ways here. I wish you both the best of luck.”

“T-Take care……”

Watching Albert’s brave figure as he walked gallantly into the depths of the forest, Kevin felt ashamed at his own cowardice once again.

Scoreboard

🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy

🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena

Footnotes:

[1] Andy’s title is not formally given in the story, but judging from the amount of land he owns, I think it’s safe to say that he’s a member of the peerage like Albert, and hence should be addressed as “Lord Andy”. (Wikipedia)

[goatpaste]

So I'm pretty new to your fan clans and Im confused by the way they work. Is there any chance that you could help me understand how the clans themselves formed? I know at least one clan lives in a twolegplace (partially at least) but otherwise Im very confused

ah im p new to my own fan clans lol, like just made them up three days ago lolbut iv been working as i go to make them!

heres a good starting point

a sketched map of their OG territories. three slabs of land split in three by a river.the dock in the middle was their gathering place( iv drawn it a bit small im bad with ‘maps’ but its a tall dock that the cats will gather under, the leaders sitting on a few large boulders near the shoreline. 

and then their current territory where Honorclan forest has been mostly cut down and replaced by twoleg territory 

another thing to note before i get too into it, these clans believe in starclan but a little differently.they do believe it to be the place clan cats go in death, but instead of listening and being guided by all of starclan, they in a sense worship select cats. typically past leaders who in their eyes after being leader and dying for their clan become that of gods in starclan, and using their ancient wisdom of the clan they once ruled and their new cosmic identity to guide them forward even after death. 

but this gonna be a whole thing more some more under the cut it goes!

Loyalclan (heart emblem) lives in a vast field of tall grass that has a few trees before hitting a wall of trees a the edge of the field.they are known for being on the smaller side, hidden by the tall grass. their good diggers even using old tunnels dug up by larger animals as passage ways to their camp. their camp is located at the edge of their territory where a cluster of trees lines the end of the field. the camp is in a dip in the ground, what would appear to be the dig out of what could have been past human digging. The pit is nearly 8 feet deep. they make dens out of holes in the walls. their center of the camp tends to be full of leaves that have fallen from the trees above and its a chore for apprentices to clear out old leaves before they get nasty. the leaders den and the medicine cat den is sat on their side of their exit, a tunnel that leads nearly 15 ft out.opposite side sits the nursery, apprentice den, warrior den, elders den and a tunnel out to a dirtplace.

again to state their cats are typically on the small side, their short enough to be unseen in the grass, very light on their feet.

their primary prey tends to be mice and voles that live in the fields and sometimes birds and pheasants  are a nice treat.the biggest part of their bodies tend to be their large wide front paws built for digging up the homes of prey. trivia wise their first leader was a stray named Foxie who in her youth was abandoned with no recollection of her past. her only companion was that of a dog who was her only family. when leaf bare came, Her dog companion passed away. Foxie stayed by her dead companions side for days until she was found by local cats who helped her. they fixed up his funeral and welcomed foxie into their home. when the clans were established and she was made leader she was renamed Loyalstar, in sake of her devotion to her late friend and to her future clan. the clans are currently on their third leader Mutestar who successed FlaxstarHonorclan (shield emblem) once living in a heavily dense forest known for their tracking abilities and strength. they hunted on feast of many small animals and were known for being able to hunt and kill foxes in packs.their forest was large and prey plenty.their only concern ever was a small logging facility that worked in their forest twice a year. they would come in and take down some trees before the winter started. to them never a huge concern and plenty of forest to go around. but it only got worseunknown to the cats, the logging facility was sold off to a big company that quickly and efficiently over the course of a few years developed the land and made it a small city town. theres only a strip of territory left that is still woodlands covering the edge of the bank of the river. unlike the other clans that shoved over when the humans arrive, Honorclan didnt move a muscle. the only thing that moved was their camp. they chose to make the best of their situation.their camp was relocated to a small cove like area a little bit further down the stream. 

its a rocky little space with the river at their front door. its mostly hidden by rocks with cozy spaces in the area for cats to hole up in. 

the part of the territory to focus on now a days is the part the humans made and the cats rule.  the twolegs homes closest to the river and small cafes and stores where its usually much quieter and the loudest thing around are twoleg children who come down to play at the water. further in is shopping centers and tall buildings lined with bright colorful light and windows. Honorclan takes vantage of the space, hunting for rats and taking garbage or even excepting food from twolegs from time to time. 

a beloved spot when cats arnt hunting is alleys behind dry cleaners where hot air comes out holes in the sides of the buildings. 

the cats a more typical cat build, agile bodies built for climbing to the top of buildings and furry bodys for keeping warm at night.

these cats are a mostly nocturnal clan working from late evenings to somewhere past midnight out of the eyes of most humans.they also seem to possess a decently language skill being able to understand some human words, talking to dogs or pigeons.and much like skyclan, they have rather unconventional names. having names based on human things, or having kittypets and ally cats joining their clan and keeping their names or making them warrior names. 

They were founded by Aseer a leader of a traveling group of cats who met the cats that would become Loyalclan a group of welcoming and kind felines.the two groups chose to share the land splitting it between the two of them.

Aseer was a kind tom who honored their promises and kept to their land, and in time the clans began to form and rules came into place.after the first months settled in the river flooded and ruined the land that the soon to be cats of loyalclan called home. much prey had drowned and died in their homes, the grassland like a marsh. Foxie and her group were in great need of help.

Their code spoke of keeping to their own lands and no taking of prey from each others territories no matter what (a rule now changed after this experience). However in this time Aseer chose to set aside their laws, and his honor to help his neighbors by bringing them in and feeding them in his lands.starclan chose him as leader, naming his Honorstar. a cat who while showing great honor and pride for his clan knew when to set aside and help others in need. 

The current leader is Greasestar, he is currently the 4th leader of Honorclan. he preceded Strikestar.As for our last clan i cant tell you a whole lot yet >:3c

but their name is

Gloryclan

they live in the last third of the territories that is like marsh land, land that never dried up moons after the flooding on the fields happened.  its full of large rocks and plants that seem to only grow on their marshy banks.

they were founded by Hero later named Glorystar due to her epic tale of heroics.

[holographic-chogi]

Protector pt.14/?

Author: holographic-chogi

Pairing: fem!reader x skz

Warnings: minor sexual content, swearing (courtesy of Changbin), mentions of abuse. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything!

A/N: Hehe I’m back folks. I haven’t had a ton of time to write lately it’s been a little difficult getting chapters out. That being said, I always appreciate the support. We’re getting VERY close to the end, so you guys better strap in for the rest of this ride!

Summary: a virus has wiped out most of humanity, and society has collapsed. People survive in groups where they live in constant fear and a struggle to survive. Women were the primary victim of the virus, leaving few behind. You are one of the few, kept in secret since the beginning. However, you’ve just been caught.

Masterlist

As soon as you heard Minho’s call from outside, you burst from Changbin’s arms, practically racing out the front door and onto the front lawn. You distantly heard the screen door swing open behind you, but you paid it no mind as you made your way to the front gate. Seungmin had already began questioning whoever it was on the other side.

Your heart thudded, and you paced behind the wooden wall, wishing that there was some way to look through. Was it Jiho? It had to be, right?

Suddenly, you heard his name spoken from Seungmin’s lips.

“Are you Jiho?”

You didn’t hear the stranger’s response, but you saw Seungmin and Minho nod to one another, before instructing Felix to open the gate from below.

You kneaded your hands together, chest burning with a thousand emotions at once. Was it him? Would he be happy to see you?

But your thoughts stilled as soon as the gate lifted.

It was him.

He stood there, with the early morning sun behind him, lighting him up like an angel. His hair had grown in a little bit, delicately framing his fox-like eyes. The eyes you had been dreaming of night and night again.

“J-Jiho?”

When his eyes landed on you, his smile showed brilliantly. “Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop yourself, you dashed forward, practically launching yourself into his arms. When he pulled you into him tightly, all of your emotions erupted. Sobs shook your body as you mumbled his name.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I’m here.”

You pulled away from him to get a better look at his face. He had a new scar along his left eyebrow and temple, and his face was thinner than before. You pouted, face still wet with tears, tracing the scar with your finger. “What happened?”

He chuckled, “happened back at the cell block.”

You froze in his grasp. The cell block. Where he left you.

He seemed to notice your change in demeanor, setting you down and taking a deep breath. “We have a lot to talk about.”

You grimaced inwardly when you heard Changbin snarl from behind you. “By that, you mean you have a lot to explain.”

Chan sighed. “Ignore him.” He gestured to the rest of the farmhouse group, who had all gathered around you. “Disperse. Give these two some time to catch up.”

Jisung opened his mouth to protest, but Felix swatted him, and pulled him away with the others. Your eyes lingered on Changbin, who simply narrowed his eyes at Jiho before making his way inside.

Leaving just the two of you, in the front yard. You looked back at Jiho, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Let’s go sit by the barn, it has low foot traffic this time of day. Felix probably tended the animals already this morning.”

Jiho nodded, following your lead towards said barn, “You really seem to know this place well.”

He didn’t see, but your gaze turned sour. “I should. After all, I’ve been here for weeks. Months for all I know.”

You heard him falter in his footsteps.

Once the two of you settled in beside the barn, a silence overcame the two of you. You felt your chest contract. You were so happy to see him earlier, but you couldn’t deny the anger beginning to creep in.

He sighed. “Should I start at the beginning?”

You simply nodded, keeping your eyes trained on the ground.

“When I left you in your room-”

“You mean my cell.” You interrupted, failing to hide the bitterness in your voice. Where was this anger coming from?

“Y/N…that was your room. Don’t act like it was just some cellblock to you.”

You nodded, feeling a prick of guilt. “Sorry. You’re right. Keep going.”

He cleared his throat. “When I left your room, during the alarm, I meant to cause a distraction. Once they were diverted, I was going to come back and get you.”

“Did the distraction not work?”

He shook his head. “Actually, it worked too well. I barely made it out alive. The dark-haired one with the shitty attitude got me real good with a machete.” He gestured to the scar on his face.

You looked up at him, failing to remain emotionless at the thought of him getting injured. Despite this, you continued your interrogation. “But why didn’t you come back?”

He looked down this time. “I couldn’t. I was out of ammo and the remaining group members were gone. And…” He began to trail off.

“And what?”

“I knew they wouldn’t hurt you. I knew you’d be fine with them because they have that law against killing women.”

This was a lot to take in. You suppose you couldn’t blame him for that. It was practical, and he was right. But part of you was upset that he had left you at all. “Why didn’t you come get me sooner?”

He frowned, “I didn’t know where they were located. Only the higher-ups in the group knew. I had to work my way up and gain authority to get here.”

You guess…that made sense.

The two of you sat there, in the grass, for hours. Catching each other up on your respective stories as the tension seemed to melt away. Things started to feel normal, and comfortable again.

Jiho’s laughter was interrupted by Felix’s warm voice behind him, “Hey you two, dinner’s ready. It’s the pheasant from last night. Minho’s cooked up a feast.”

You smiled and tugged on Jiho excitedly, “Let’s go! You’re not gonna believe how good the food is.”

The lot of you sat around the table, a new chair pulled in to seat Jiho. You sat between said man and Seungmin. Truth be told, you were glad it was one of the less touchy members. You would have a hard time explaining Felix or Jisung’s dinnertime antics to Jiho.

Minho proudly laid the last dish on the table as everyone finished settling in. It was the pheasants. Minho seemed to notice the lingering gazes, and proudly announced the dish. “I present to you, Pheasants. Roasted with wild honey, in a cream sauce, courtesy of Toes the cow.” He flashed you a mischievous glance, “And pheasants, caught courtesy of Y/N and Hyunjin.”

As everyone began to dig in, Jiho turned to you, tone accusatory. “You went hunting?”

You gulped, “Y-yeah. Just outside the gates.”

Hyunjin spoke from left side of the table, “She’s amazing at it too.” He winked, “almost as good as me.”

You prayed you were the only one to notice Jiho’s eyes narrow at Hyunjin’s wink. You scanned the table, noticing Minho’s hawk-like gaze. Guess not. Hopefully he understood Jiho was just a bit on the protective side.

Jiho shook his head, “You shouldn’t be hunting. Too dangerous.”

Hyunjin caught your gaze, sending you a ‘what the hell is up with this up with this dude’ look. You looked back at your plate trying to hide from the situation. It hadn’t occurred to you how different Jiho was from the others, and how odd it may come across. He was just a tad bit more controlling, that’s all. He just wanted what’s best for you.

Changbin scoffed. “She’s a big girl, Jiho. She can do whatever she wants.”

Jiho cocked an eyebrow, meeting Changbin’s challenge. Competitive as ever, apparently. “She still needs protection”

Changbin smirked, “She can do more than you know, buddy.”

You could practically feel the rage radiate from Jiho, and you began to panic.

Chan cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject. “So, how did you two meet? If you don’t mind my asking.” You sighed in relief.

Jiho took a bite, before leaning back in his seat. “I’ve known her since she was young. Her older brother was my best friend growing up.”

Woojin chuckled, “I bet you have all kinds of embarrassing stories for us. What was baby Y/N like?”

Changbin spoke before Jiho had the chance, “They weren’t friends until after the Virus.”

Jiho chuckled, but you could tell he found nothing about it funny. “Sounds like you could tell this story for me. What’s your name again?”

“Changbin. And by all means, keep telling. Don’t let me stop you”

Jiho crossed his arms in distaste, but nevertheless, continued. “Once the virus hit, my parents passed away, and so did Y/N’s mom. So her brother offered that I join them.”

You started to zone out. You knew the story already, you were more interested in Minho’s dagger-like stare towards Jiho. What was he noticing this time? The man had always had a keen eye.

“….until Y/N’s brother passed away. Leaving the two of us.” Jiho’s voice was distant. You hated this part.

Felix’s voice was thick with concern, “What happened?”

Jiho took a deep, labored breath. “It was a group of thugs we encountered. I barely got out alive myself.”

Hyunjin shook his head sadly, “People were so aggressive when everything began.”

Changbin crossed his arms. “That must have been terrible. Why’d they shoot?”

“They were patrolling their territory, and caught us on their territory while we were hunting. We didn’t know any better.”

Honestly, you weren’t even listening. You were way too distracted with the look of realization in Minho’s eyes. It scared you. It scared you even more when he leaned over to whisper something to Changbin, who in turn whispered back to him.

What the hell were they whispering about?

As dinner grew closer to it’s end, things got quieter. The others (well, most of them), had done a good job putting on a happy face, but as the night continued, the impending doom of what was to come was beginning to set in.

You were going to leave. And you may never see them again.

Wordlessly, Seungmin grabbed your hand under the table. He usually wasn’t the touchy type, but you could tell tonight was an exception. He was gonna miss you. You were gonna miss him too.

Seungmin muttered quietly, unheard by Jiho who was busily wrapped up in conversation with Chan. “I’m gonna miss those nights. The ones with you and Minho up on the lookout perches late at night, all the gossiping and deep talks beneath the stars.” He smiled fondly, “I’m even going to miss cleaning up after your shenanigans with Jisung and Woojin.” He chuckled, “Where did you even find all those wrappers? There’s no way you guys could eat that much.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “One day, when all of this is over and the world is back to where it used to be, you’re gonna have to send me a picture from space.” You smiled, feeling a lump in your throat, “I want a picture of the cassiopeia constellation from inside the ship. Got it?”

He nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

The table was eventually clear of plates, but no one moved from their spots. The group wasn’t ready for what was to come. However, to everyone’s surprise, Minho spoke up, “Y/N, Changbin, could you two help me with dishes?”

Everyone around the table looked confused, but Changbin sat up quickly, “Sure thing. That’ll give the rest of you guys time to get things packed up.”

Uh oh. He had his determined face on.

While everyone filed out, Jiho lingered in the doorway for a moment, seemingly unwilling to leave you alone. “Hurry up, okay?”

You nodded, before turning back to the remaining two men in the kitchen. “Minho. Changbin. What the hell is going on with you two?”

Both of their faces were deadly serious, and Minho spoke first. “Y/N, you’re not gonna wanna hear this, but something’s off about Jiho.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “what is that supposed to mean?”

Changbin spoke next, “The way he looks at you. The way he looks at us when we look at you.”

Minho nodded, “He talks about you like he owns you, and the way he looks at you scares me. It’s almost like an obsession.”

You scoff. What the hell were these two talking about? “He’s not obsessed with me. We’re just close.”

Changbin continued. “And you’re different around him too. Quieter.” He grimaced, “Smaller.”

Smaller. You didn’t care for that comment.

Minho continued, “You let him talk for you. That hunting nonsense? The Y/N I know wouldn’t let someone talk down to her like that.”

You were pissed. So what? Your relationship with Jiho was just…different. That didn’t mean it’s bad. “Guys, you don’t have to approve of Jiho. You may not like him but he’s my family.”

Changbin gaze grew grim. “We aren’t finished. Were you listening earlier, when he was talking about your brother?”

You shook your head, “Not really. You two were being obnoxious the whole time, it was distracting. Not to mention, I know the story.”

Changbin nodded, “You’re brother was killed by a crazy stranger over some food, right?”

You nodded, “and Jiho came back to the house without him and told me what happened. We didn’t even get to bury him.”

Minho’s eyes went wide with shock. “Changbin…you were right.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Right about what?”

Changbin’s gaze was angry, “That isn’t what he told us at dinner. It was a completely different story.”

Minho clenched his jaw. “He took a long breath before telling the story, the kind someone takes to buy time.”

You shook your head, unwilling to hear any more, but Minho continued.

“He made it all up on the spot.”

[alleiradayne]

Talk Dirty To Me

Summary: Jo and Dean celebrate twenty years together, but things go a little sideways when Jo unintentionally insults him. Rating: Explicit Square Filled: Breeding Tropes: Breeding and Dirty Talk Warnings/Tags: Lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding kink, Dom!Dean, sub!Jo, oral, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, actual talk of having a baby, sweet fluffy ending. Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Jo Harvelle Word Count: 5,543 Author: @alleiradayne Artist: @mere-mortifer A/N: For @spnkinkbingo this fills the Breeding square, and for @supernaturaltropecelebration, this fills the tropes Breeding Kink and Dirty Talk kink. Song: Talk Dirty To Me by Poison

Rare were the moments Dean breathed easy. But tonight, he had. For the first time in decades, he had nothing to worry about.

As he dried the last of their dinner plates, Dean hummed along to the steady rock beat of Nothing but a Good Time as it played on the record player. Beside him, Jo bobbed her head and swayed her hips as she wiped down the sink and hummed with him. Together they had prepared a dinner fit for kings, and they had eaten like the royalty they had always said they were. Most hunters weren't so lucky to find a love like theirs. Even when they did, it rarely lasted, and for predictably unfortunate reasons.

But Dean and Jo? They'd cheated death, fate, God, destiny, the whole gamut more times than you could shake a stick at. No, the years had not been kind to them. And yet they'd made it through twenty of them together. So, on the eve of their anniversary, they had decided to celebrate.

They owed it to themselves. Not that they hated hunting. But back when Dean turned forty, talks of retirement had started. Jo had tried her damnedest to get him to hang it up a few years earlier, but it had taken another narrow miss on Sam's behalf—a wendigo had pinned him dead to rights if it hadn't been for Eileen’s quick thinking—for Dean to call it quitting time.

Hunters never truly retired. With Sam and Eileen only a few minutes into town, the four of them worked small cases nearby, run of the mill salt n' burns, the occasional werewolf. Nothing more than a few hours’ drive away. Angels, demons, and Chuck had, at long last, decided it was high time they stop fucking with the Winchesters and their family. With four averted apocalypses, the near extinction of angels, and an empty throne in Hell blocked by Sam, those cosmic beings finally figured out it was time to give it a god damn rest once and for all.

The bright clinking of crystal snatched Dean's attention as he finished drying the last plate. Over his shoulder he found Jo pouring out the end of a twenty-one-year scotch, plenty to keep them both warm and toasty on that chilly fall night. Jo hefted her glass, crystal on her pale pink lips, and Dean watched, mesmerized by the bob of her throat. She hadn't aged a day if he had anything to say about it. Still the brave, boundless soul he had met all those years ago, Jo Harvelle had wrapped him around her little finger the day they’d met. After she had punched him in the nose, that was.

“I'm a little sad,” she mused as she held her glass up to the light. The warm amber liquor flickered as she peered through the crystal. “Was a particularly good bottle of Dal.”

With the plate put away, Dean crossed the kitchen and took his glass from her. “We’ll find another,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her, hand resting at the small of her back. A sip from his glass extracted a pleased hum through his nose. “Damn, that is good. You sure know how to pick 'em.”

Jo grinned. “Comes with the territory. And you outdid yourself tonight. A cowboy that knows how to cook pheasant. Color me surprised.”

A swell of pride warmed his cheeks. Or maybe it was the whiskey. “I'll have to keep that recipe. You enjoyed it?”

“Enjoyed it?” she scoffed. “Was like eating candy,” she continued as she sat at the kitchen table.

A moment of silence lingered between them, and for once, it settled not with anxiety, but peace and serenity. Dean allowed himself the space to drift there a little longer, but when he regarded Jo, he found her smile had faded and the excited glow in her eye dimmed.

With sudden clarity, she met his gaze and said, “I got lucky with you, you know?”

Dean sat beside her around the corner of the table, his hand around hers as it cupped her glass. “How so?”

She thought a moment, big hazel eyes searching the room for the words. “You’re kind. Kindest man I’ve ever met. You've always been sweet to me no matter what.” Her smile contorted, sardonic. “I don't know what I ever did to deserve you.”

If she thought she was lucky then what did that make him? Any luckier and he’d get struck by lightning. “You were you,” Dean started as he took her hand in his. “Simple as that. You didn't have to do anything but be yourself, sweetheart.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, one by one.

“Stop,” she whined with her half-hearted protest and rosy cheeks. “I'm serious, Dean. You were so sweet to me. Even at nineteen, I’d met my fair share of men, and not a single one of them came close to treating me with any kind of the respect or dignity you did. Hell, even in bed, you were more courteous and caring than most people are in public. You still are!”

Courteous? Caring, sure, but courteous? “Am I really that boring to sleep with?”

She laughed her obnoxious cackle at that, with a hand to her stomach as she leaned back, and her shoulders shook. “Oh, honey, don't worry, you’re a damn good lay.”

His nose scrunched as he thought for a moment. “Damn good lay? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

Jo stood then and drained her glass before she spoke. “Gimme a break. You know you’re very respectful and courteous in bed. I don't think I've ever even heard you say anything remotely dirty during sex.”

Ever? Not once had he so much as mumbled a, “fuck me, Jo,” or, “ride my cock”? Impossible. There was no way.

Except the look in her eye said otherwise. Impulse gripped him in a thoughtless vice, and Dean snatched her wrist as she stepped towards the sink. Jo stumbled to a halt with an indignant squawk and glared at him. From his chair, he stared into her eyes without raising his head, his brow cocked and a subtle purse to his lips. When she remained still, Dean said, “I can change that.”

A beat of bated breath lingered between them, Dean holding her enraptured gaze. He leaned into her, inched closer as he coaxed her to him with a delicate pull of her wrist, and in that a moment, Dean thought he had convinced her. That was, until she broke, her barking laughter ringing through the entire house. A patronizing hand smoothed his hair as she kissed the top of his head and sighed.

When she attempted to pull from his grasp Dean held her firm. Jo struggled against his grip and her laughter ended abruptly. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Dean stood, rising to his feet with a slow and steady straightening of his back. His shoulders rolled as he jerked her flush to his chest, and Jo protested with a feeble repeat of her question. “Dean? What's going on?”

The idea of treating her with anything less than every ounce of his respect stayed his hand. But if all she asked for was some dirty talk, he could do that. At least, he wanted to. He wanted to give her whatever she wished. The longer he thought on it, the more he understood. And the more he understood, the harder his cock strained against his pants.

Before he pushed himself any further, Dean placed a tender kiss to her lips as he cupped her cheek. Tension oozed from her shoulders as she melted into him, her free hand smoothing over his arm as she set her glass on the table. With great care, he timed his move and grabbed her hand, then spun her back to him. Her protest clipped short when he pinned her hips to the edge of the table, his entire body flush to hers and bearing over her shoulder. With his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

Jo bucked her hips into his groin a she hummed her approval through her nose, but Dean held her hard and fast against the table. Damn her and her writhing body. In new territory, he wanted to take his time, but he worried he might not get the chance. But if she wanted him in that way, then it would have to be under his conditions, his control.

“You'll do as I say?” he asked.

Another lewd sigh fell from her parted lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shudder that rolled along his spine weakened his knees. If she joined in on the dirty talk, their foray might not last very long. “Then only I get to talk,” he whispered into her ear. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she mewled.

Dean grunted under the strain of control, far too eager to feel her wrapped around him again. Deep breaths steadied his hands as he reached beneath her arms and unbuttoned her jeans. “I want to fuck you, sweetheart. I want to fuck you and come inside you.”

Another shudder rolled through her body and echoed in his as she moaned a long high cry. God, but her voice alone was enough to unravel him to bare threads. In a fit of frustration, he grasped the hem of her shirt and tore it over her head. Long blonde waves cascaded down her back and Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck as he grasped her breasts. Between the nips and licks and kisses, Dean spoke through his labored breaths. “Fuck, sweetheart, I love your tits.”

Her restrained whimper caught in her throat, more of a grunt than a sigh. That she struggled against her instinctive reactions aroused Dean further, a blurry haze clouding his thoughts. He wanted proof of what his words had done to her, and so, he slipped his hand down her stomach towards her pants. Palpable tension heaved her chest as he smoothed her skin with the flat of his hand until it slipped beneath the fabric and Dean found what he so desperately sought.

“So wet for me already. You really do enjoy this,” he continued as his fingers slipped inside her. “God, I can't wait to fuck you,” he started, “Can't wait to pound your pretty little cunt with my cock until I come inside you and put a baby in your belly.”

If Dean hadn’t felt it, he wouldn't have believed it, but Jo's entire body convulsed, and her pussy clenched around his fingers. Nonsense fell from her lips as she attempted to remain quiet like he had demanded. At least she couldn’t string more than three words together otherwise he might have come in his pants. “Good girl,” Dean whispered in her ear. “I like it when you follow orders. But I like it when you beg me for it, too,” he teased as his fingers pumped her flesh.

“Oh, fuck, Dean, I’m so close, please,” she cried. “I’m gonna come, please, harder, keep going!”

Christ, was that all it took? A couple fingers and a few salacious words? What exactly had he said that had shoved her so violently into delirium? He wrapped his arms tighter around her as he rolled the hard shaft of his cock against her ass through their clothes, determined to find out. “Do you like it when I tell you how much I want to fuck you?”

Jo merely nodded as she turned into his lips for a quick kiss. While pleasing, he had hoped for a different answer. “What about coming inside you? Do you like that? Do you like the idea of my cum pouring out of your pussy?”

Another depraved moan burst from her lips, but again, she said nothing of note. It occurred to him then that, after years of endless hunting and instability, something else he had said might be closer to the truth than he ever expected.

A grin widened his smile as he whispered in her ear. “You want a baby.”

As if the world had come to a screeching halt, Jo froze. Her entire body seized, completely still but for the hard thumping of her heart. “How did you know?”

Dean released her breast as he laughed a wicked laugh through his nose. “Because the idea of me knocking you up has you wetter than I've ever felt,” he stated a he withdrew his fingers from her sex. In the kitchen light, her arousal glistened on his middle and ring finger as strings of her fluid stretched between them. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Jo did as he said, lips parted and tongue reaching as he slipped his fingers into her mouth. Sealed, she sucked him clean, and Dean braced himself against her hips as he withdrew his fingers with a pathetic moan. Damn that woman and her sinful mouth. If he wasted anymore time toying with her, she’d ruin his shorts without even trying. And he couldn't have that. They were just getting started.

“So,” he started as he wrapped his arms around her once more, hands smoothing her stomach. “Do you want me to put a baby in your belly?”

“I just want you to fuck me, Dean,” she growled as she pried at her pants.

Dean snatched up her wrists, gathered in one hand and pinned them to the small of her back. “Oh, slow down, honey. We’ll get there,” he teased as his free hand slipped her jeans over her ass. “Lord knows I want to bury my cock in your sopping cunt right now and pound into you until I fill you with my seed. But where's the fun in that?” He nipped at the shell of her ear and Jo writhed as if to escape him. “Yeah, you love this, don't you? Never heard me talk to you like this, like you’re my little plaything to fuck and fill and breed whenever I want. You’re my mare and I'm your stallion.”

All manner of divine whimpers and moans sounded on her breathless lips at his words. But the end was in sight. He wished to string her out longer—maybe she would come if he kept talking that way—but if he kept at it, he'd never make good on any of his promises. So Dean slipped his fingers into the hip of her underwear and tugged them to her ankles where Jo flung them aside with a swift flick of her ankle.

“I'm gonna let you go, sweetheart,” he whispered, “and I want you to stay right where you are. Do you understand?”

Jo nodded with a vigorous shake of her head as she leaned against the kitchen table. Dean, however, was unsatisfied with that response. “Say it. Tell me you understand.”

Ever the seductress, Jo shot him a coy smirk over her shoulder. “I understand, Daddy. I won't move an inch,” she said in her best simpering tone.

“Good girl,” Dean groaned through gritted teeth as he released her hands. A step back separated them and he stripped himself of shirt and pants. Jo continued to watch over her shoulder, and when he stood in only his briefs, she spoke.

“I could help with those.”

A sharp slap rang through kitchen as Dean's hand connected with her bare ass, and Jo shrieked in shock. “You'll do as I say,” he stated as he returned to her, the bulge of his cock nestled between her cheeks. “I'll fuck you when I'm good and ready,” he continued as he dragged a finger between her sopping lips. “God damn, I love how wet you are. Spread those legs for me, sweetheart, I wanna see it.”

Jo did as he ordered, feet parted and hips rolled. “Oh, yeah, that's it,” he sighed, “Do you like presenting yourself to me? Offering up your dripping pussy for me to fuck? Is that your way of asking me to breed you?”

“Yes!” Jo cried, “Dammit, Dean, just do it already!”

Her thighs quivered beneath his touch as Dean grasped the meat of her ass and spread her. “Oh you are ready for me,” he cooed. “Ready for me to put a baby in you. God, I can't wait to see your belly grow,” he teased as he smoothed her flat stomach. “And I'll remind you how it happened.” One hand slipped into her hair and wrenched her head back, her ear to his lips once more. “I'll remind you how I put that baby there, how I fucked you like the dirty little girl you are and filled your cunt with my seed and impregnated you.”

By then, Jo could hardly stand on her own two feet. She had all but melted against the table, Dean supporting her grasping hands with one arm. Despite her weak legs and heaving shoulders, Jo spoke. “Yes, Dean, please, I want it. Put a baby in my belly. Fuck me like I'm your little slut.”

If he hadn't strung himself out so thoroughly, Dean might have punished her for that. But after all his talk and the way her body had responded, the ache in his balls and the engorged length of his cock demanded release. He barely bothered with his briefs beyond shoving them to his thighs and his cock fell free to land squarely between her cheeks. The convulsion of Jo’s entire body rattled Dean to his very core with a grunt.

He grasped the base of his cock and angled the tip to her cunt, dragged in her ample arousal. “You ready, darlin’?”

Jo nearly wept with want. “Yes, Daddy, please, fuck me,” she mewled as she leaned over the table, chest flush to its dark oak surface. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

A snarl escaped his gritted teeth as Dean forced himself to maintain control. He wanted nothing more than to slam his cock into her, bottom out and hear her scream his name, beg for more until she incoherently babbled. “You will, my dirty little girl,” he sighed as he continued to tease her pussy. “But I'm not done having fun with you yet.”

The first sign of her frustration rattled the table as Jo hammered her fist on the heavy wood. Dean found her bottom lip pinched between her teeth when he looked up to her, face pink and hair matted to her forehead with sweat. He dug deep for the stamina to hold out a little longer as he dropped to his knees, grasped her ass, and spread her wide for his tongue.

The smooth, bitter sluice of her arousal filled his mouth as Dean sealed his lips on hers and sucked her clean. With each lap, Jo writhed as she moaned, as she clawed at the table and begged for more. Fuck, he wanted her in the worst way, but he knew the longer he held out, the sweeter their end would be. “I love the way you taste, sweetheart. So fucking good,” he mumbled into her ass. “Can’t wait to taste my cum as it drips from your cunt. Do you want that? Want me to eat your pussy after I come in it?”

The howl that rent from Jo’s bitten lips startled them both. “God dammit, Dean, will you just fuck me?!” Her fist landed on the table again. “Shut up and put that baby in my belly already!”

He buried his face between her cheeks, tongue shoved as far as he could reach into her pussy. Another high cry of arousal rang from her open mouth as Jo reached back and grabbed a fistful of his hair. In earnest, Dean sucked her flesh, lips and tongue driving her arousal to its completion. When he felt her fingers reach for her clit, he grasped her wrist and wrenched it behind her back, much to her frustration. But the pure wanton whimper he extracted from her as his thumb circled that little bundle of nerves was worth every bit of her ire.

Within seconds of his attention, Jo unraveled in a mess of moans, curses, and shivering convulsions. Shocks of her orgasm flexed her cunt and Dean sighed his own heightened arousal into her. In the wake of her release, the desperation for his own flailed wildly out of control, driving him to his feet. “Was that what you wanted?” he asked as he angled his cock, so painful with engorgement, to her dripping cunt again. “You wanted to come on my face, huh?”

Through her heaving breaths, Jo spoke. “Yeah, but,” she paused with a thick swallow, “I want that big fat cock of yours in my pussy, now,” she finished with a wild buck of her hips.

So perfectly primed for him, Jo glided onto his cock so fast, the smack of their bodies as they met rang like a struck bell. Together they moaned, Jo sated at long last and Dean digging deep for restraint. Damn her and her perfect cunt. “Fuck me, sweetheart, you feel so damn good after all that.” He sighed. “How does that feel for you?”

“Amazing,” she breathed as she rolled her hips. “But you know what would feel better?”

Dean withdrew from her and nearly collapsed. He grasped her hips, nails biting into the meat of her flesh, and hunched over her back. “Damn, I wanna fuck you so bad, but I need a minute.” He sighed, frustrated. “I'm… God, I could come right now.”

Jo’s pleased hum damn near undid him then and there. “Take your time, babe, I'll… try to be patient,” she said with a little laugh. “Gonna cost you though.”

Slow strokes eased him up to a steady pace with smooth rolls of his hips. Before Jo, Dean had found sex to be relaxing, a relief from the terrifying reality he lived every day. And while he often mixed work and play, he only ever viewed that time away from the job as just that: a break. But then he had met her, and sex took on an entirely different meaning, gained a drastically different purpose for him. And no, it wasn’t some ridiculous notion of love. That he had in spades from her regardless of sex. But for once in his life he could be so brutally vulnerable with someone and not give a single shit about it. That had changed him in ways he had never fathomed possible.

“You’re thinking so loud, I can hear the gears working in your head,” Jo said with a buck of her hips.

Dean grunted as she bottomed out against his thighs. “Sorry,” he said under his breath and squeezed her hips. “I needed a minute. Didn't want this to end… prematurely,” he jested.

Another roll of her hips stroked his cock. “I dunno, Dean, I'm ready for whatever you've got left in the tank.”

“Really?” Dean groaned as he slipped into her, pelvis to ass. “A car reference?”

She shimmied her hips as she looked over her shoulder, coquettish enough for an old magazine he might have owned once upon a time. “You are though. Big, tough, dependable. Like a big ol' pickup. You sure know how to haul my ass around.”

Dean took a moment to admire her backside, that supple curve of her ass. He followed its smooth line to his cock wrapped in her pussy and coated in her creamy arousal. “I do, don't I?” he mused. With a snap of his hips, he buried himself in her, and Jo cried out a heavenly moan. “I've had a lot of practice the last few years,” he continued as he withdrew. “Been fucking this pussy for over a decade,” he said as he slammed into her again, and she choked back her moan. “Then again, you've been riding my dick for just as long. I think you might know me better,” he paused. “Like how you knew I'd find all this kinky, dirty talk so easy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jo started with a whimper, “I know my Daddy very well.”

His pace picked up as he continued to thrust. “Christ, sweetheart, you keep calling me that and I might have to do something about it,” he growled as he smoothed a hand up her spine.

Beats of his hips against her backside marked her moan as Jo arched her back at his touch. “Yeah, Daddy? What are you gonna do to me?”

He thrust harder, their bodies slapping against one another and he felt the subtle flex of her cunt around his cock. “Teach you a lesson,” he growled as his hand slipped into her hair at the nape of her neck. With a rough jerk, he hauled her up to his chest and wrapped his other arm over her hip. “Fuck you silly and empty my load in you.”

Her hands mirrored his, one in his hair and the other grasping the back of his arm. “Fuck me, Daddy,” she mewled. “Fuck my pussy raw and gimme that baby.”

An almighty roar burst from his chest as Dean wrapped his fingers around her throat and pounded his cock into her. After such relentless teasing, he could pump into her flesh for hours, and a part of him wanted to, wanted to rail against her ass for a long as she would let him. He had half a mind to do it. But when Jo gasped and her breath caught in her throat, he knew what followed.

The first subtle sensation quivered in her thighs, the signs of her release hot on its heels. Relentlessly, Dean thrust into her, harder and faster as she found her voice, the long keening moan sung through his grasp of her throat. “Yeah, Jo, come for me. Come all over my cock, I want to feel you come on me,” he urged. “C'mon, honey, be Daddy's dirty little girl and come for me.”

“Yes, fuck, Dean, harder, fuck my pussy!” Jo begged. “Make me come, Daddy!”

Between her thighs, Dean plunged his hand, fingertips searching for and finding her clit. Furious circles rubbed as he thrust as fast as he could, delirious with his impending release. He split at the seams, unraveled as she had earlier, and his climax slammed into him harder than a speeding train.

No preamble, no hint, no warning could have prepared them. Jo cried out a strangled moan, short and incomplete as she clenched around him with the sudden onslaught of his own release. “Shit, Jo, I'm gonna come,” he growled, “I'm gonna come inside you and fill you up and breed you.”

“Yes, give it to me, Dean,” she whined in time with the smack of his hips against her ass. “Fuck my pussy, I wanna feel you come.”

There was no resisting her demands. Even if he had wanted to, Dean couldn't hold back any longer. Each flex of her cunt echoed in a hard throb of his cock, the heat between his thighs spreading like wildfire through his entire body as his orgasm surged. That first long, hard twitch filled her with a load the likes of which he hadn’t felt in decades. 

His thrusts stuttered wildly with each throb that followed, encouraged by the aftershocks of Jo's climax. The pale mixture of his seed and her cum spread to her thighs as she writhed against him in the wake of their climax, riding out that euphoric wave until she slumped in his arms.

Dean released her throat and withdrew his hand from her core. With his free hand, he stripped his underwear to the floor, then kicked them up for him to catch. “Here,” he said as he handed them to Jo, and she took them without question.

“Thanks,” she whispered, voice hoarse and dry. She shoved the bundle of fabric between her thighs, ready and waiting.

A steady breath steeled himself before he withdrew from her, half-flaccid cock falling free and dripping with their fluids. In a moment of panic, he searched the floor for his undershirt, found it, and snatched it up to clean himself. Once satisfied, he discarded the ruined cloth on the floor, then turned to Jo and scooped her up in his arms.

She laughed a soft hum through her nose, all sorts of delight dancing across her face. “That was kinda fun,” she teased.

Dean headed for the stairs and laughed his deep baritone. “I wouldn't get too used to it,” he said as he ascended the first steps. “I think I need about an hour in the tub with you after that.”

Deft fingers carded through his hair at the back of his head as Jo grinned. “That sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “I could use a long soak after that workout.”

“Good,” Dean said, her smile mirrored on his lips as he topped the stairs and turned for their bedroom. There he carried Jo into their bathroom, a wide space with a tub big enough for the both of them. He set her on her feet, then started the water.

Jo sat on the tiled ledge of the tub as she grabbed the bag of Epsom salt and poured a handful into it. “I'm kinda surprised where your mind went with all that vulgarity,” she mused.

Dean's cheeks stung as he wrapped his arms around her. “I know, I… I just used whatever came to me in the moment, I’m sorry,” he explained as he squeezed her closer. “I feel a little dirty. Kinda gross. That’s why…” he trailed off once more as he pointed at the bath.

Bless her heart. Jo eased his worries with nothing but her soft smile. “I loved it,” she said. “Everything you said was perfect. It was hot and sexy and dirty all at once.”

“Yeah but…” his voice broke, trailed off into the distance. Dean frowned as he search for the right words. “I wanna treat you the best way I can, be the best man for you. And that… something about it doesn’t feel right.”

A delicate step carried Jo into the tub where she sat, the water barely covering her ankles. “You know what, that’s fine. You don’t have to like it. And we never have to do it again. But I appreciate that you tried it once for me.”

Relief washed over him, tension seeping from his shoulders. “You’re awesome, you know that?” he said as he stepped into the tub beside her. As it filled, he slid beside her and wrapped her in his arms once more. “Like, the best woman I’ve ever met.” He thought a moment before remembering with stark clarity some of the things he had said earlier. “Ugh, I called you a ‘little girl’. How did I let myself say that?”

“That surprised me,” she said with a bright laugh. “Didn’t really know how you’d feel about all that 'Daddy’ kinkiness.”

Despite his concerns, Dean laughed with her. “I may have enjoyed that too much. Ugh, still, 'little girl’ skeeves me out.”

“That’s what this is for,” Jo said with a shimmy of her hips. “Aftercare is important. And there’s nothing better than an honest conversation after a bunch of vulgarity, debasement, and depravity,” she said with a giggle.

While eased by the sentiment, Dean’s mind wandered. So many other things he said had crawled under his skin, words he never thought he’d hear on his lips. And though he had not meant any of them, he couldn't help but wonder if they came from a place of truth, buried deep within his heart.

“You’re thinking really loudly again,” Jo teased.

The words slipped from his mouth before he thought to say them. “I want to have a kid.”

Time stood still as though balanced on the head of a pin, precarious but for the hand holding it. Dean's gaze drifted to the blue water as it swirled about his knees, content for Jo to ignore him in his moment of weakness.

He had never felt hands more delicate than hers. No, delicate did her no justice. Jo knew him. Knew him better than just about anyone aside from Sam and Castiel. Her touch revitalized him and soothed him, made him feel twenty-seven all over again. She turned his head down to hers where he found her sweet smile, and she spoke.

“You'd make an excellent father.”

Father. That word, that title weighed heaviest of them all on his weary shoulders. And yet the appeal remained. “I’d know all the things not to do at least,” he started with a laugh of his own. “And I’ve got you. You’d kick it in the ass, Jo. Mom or dad, you’d put 'em all to shame.”

“Think so?” she asked.

Dean cupped her cheek as he placed his lips on hers for long, lazy kiss. His worry abated and his fear quelled with her touch, her lips and tongue and breath all working together for that ephemeral moment of peace. When she parted from him, her eyes rolled open to stare into his and compelled him to speak.

“Without a doubt in my heart.”

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[boundlesshart]

While we're kind of on the subject in our thread, what's Almyran food like? peri wants to devour

I went down the rabbit hole of a goddamn lifetime. But also this was sustaining me during the last half of an exhausting week, so thank you for sending in your question.

Almyra references MENA culture (there’s a really good write up here that breaks down each and every reference, please give it a read bc it’s fuckin 👌🏽some good fuckin food), so I focused mainly on things that grow in that region and the food that came out of it. 

SO Almyra has a lot of variety in the way of geography–the ingame Traveler’s Journal mentions specifically that it is made up of fertile plains, deserts, and mountain ranges. Eastern Almyra has pine forests that are used to make the Almyran Pine Needle tea, and Almyra itself has two long coasts to the north and south. I’ll try to break Almyra down by region, but I don’t think I’m gonna talk about regional cuisine all that much.

Fertile prairies

Obviously fertile prairies would be very good at supporting a variety of crops, most importantly wheat and barley for breads (leavened and nonleavened) and couscous. Along with rice and olives, they’re all important staples in Almyran cuisine. Of course there’s also chickpeas, lentils, sesame, onions, eggplants, and even beets from Fódlan (sugarbeets and beetroot). Vast swaths of grassland support your basic farm animals–cows, goats, sheep, pigs, and chickens. Their cows don’t produce a lot of milk, but Almyrans already prefer the tang of goat’s milk and the richness of sheep’s milk to cow’s milk, so cows are generally used as draught animals until it’s time to put them on the dinner table.

Deserts/Arid places

With the help of irrigation and oases, Almyrans cultivate the desert to grow foods like dates, figs, and pistachios. Peach and pomegranate trees grow in the shade of date palms, and grains, green melons, and watermelons grow in the shade of those trees. Goats continue to provide milk and meat alongside camels (though when it comes down to which one an Almyran would rather eat, the goat is the first to go).

Mountain ranges

Almyrans grow a fair bit of food on terraced farms, some close to Fódlan’s Throat but most safely within their country’s borders. We’re still growing wheat, barley, and olives. Fruits like pears, figs, quince, and grapes grow well here, as wells as nuts such as almonds and pistachios. What’s grown at Fódlan’s Throat will likely be very close to what the farms in the Alliance grow on the other side, Mediterranean food in all but name.

On preparation

Almyra has a solid foundation for a variety of different foods. Olive oil can truss up a plate of greens or fry up meats and vegetables. Lentil stews, hummus and bread to spread it on, grilled meat, tahini and halva, yogurts and cheese especially. Yogurt drinks range from chilled ayran with sprigs of mint to sour kefir, salty and soft white cheeses with herbs or get smoked or are simply left alone for the diner to enjoy its natural taste.

Flavors are also varied. Almyra can support sugarcane, but they generally enjoy incorporating sweets flavors into their desserts through honey and syrups and molasses from fruits. They also incorporate spices into their food, but it’s rarely truly spicy.�� For the most part, tastes in Almyra skew towards sour and bitter, so they’re fond of pickling and fermenting certain foods to give them that sour tang. Mastic, which comes from resin from the mastic tree, can be used as a spice and, when hardened, as a chewing gum that tastes similar to pine once you get past the bitterness. Pine needle tea, known for its earthy, citrusy flavor, is a very popular tea, one that’s gaining a following in Fódlan. Almyra also has its own coffee culture, and at this point I think it might be better to just point you in the direction of Google search results for “Turkish coffee”. They also have a kind of “coffee” called menengic coffee that comes from the fruit of the terebinth tree. This kind of coffee is very much an acquired taste–nutty, smoky, resinous, and very intense in flavor like other Almyran coffees and teas. Pairs very well with something sweet, and there’s no shame in adding sugar and honey to your coffee.

Extra things that I don’t know where to put so it gets to go here:

I looked at the food that Cyril and Claude like from the dining hall to try to get a picture of what Almyrans might have eaten, and what I found is that they actually share a lot of the same favorite foods (Sautéed Jerky, Pickled Rabbit Skewers, Sautéed Pheasant and Eggs, a bunch of meat basically), and where they split off is that Cyril’s favorite foods have more fish and vegetables (Vegetable Pasta Salad, Fish and Bean Soup, etc.). In the past, generally commoners didn’t eat as much meat as the nobility and used their animals for milk, so it tracks that Cyril would have a taste for veggies and river fish.

Claude’s favorite foods are all meat (he likes only two fish dishes iirc), but funnily enough he also loves everything with cheese (except for blue cheese, which is a disliked gift. Probably the smell).

Claude was in fact taught how to make coffee and tea the Turkish/Almyran way, but he’s woefully out of practice.

Fódlan-Almyran relations have thawed to the point that there are now legal avenues for Almyran goods to be brought to Fódlan. The Throat is still locked tight, but the king of Almyra is incentivizing merchants to take to the seas and sell their goods in the coastal ports in Derdriu, Edmund territory, Fraldarius territory, even as far down as Aegir territory. 

There was a demand for Almyran/eastern goods before trade between the two countries opened, leading to a black market for silks and spices. I’d like to bring up Seiros Tea, described as “A black tea common to the south of Almyra, it is fairly basic in its flavors. This is its common name in Fódlan.” Which led to a headcanon that Seiros tea and a certain kind of black tea in Almyra are the same exact kind of tea, just under a different name to avoid suspicion.

[sussex-nature-lover]

Tuesday 26th January 2021

Brought to you by the colour Pink

What’s that you say? Doesn’t look very pink here. This was the view of the back garden when I opened the curtains. Dark(ish) Frosty (very) and a bit foreboding.

But a quick swivel to my left, from due South to South East and WOW.

This was the view through the woods.

One with added Rooks and one without

During sunsets and sunrises, when the Sun is closer to the horizon, sunlight has to travel through a longer distance and more of the dense environment to reach an observer’s eye.

When sunlight strikes, gas molecules such as nitrogen and oxygen; light of longer wavelengths, like red, yellow, and orange, easily passes through; while light of shorter wavelengths, such as blue and violet, is absorbed and then scattered in all directions by the gas molecules (stay with me)

When you look up at the sky during the day this scattered blue and violet light reaches your eyes, however, the human eye is more receptive to blue frequencies than violet frequencies, so the sky looks blue. This phenomenon is known as Rayleigh scattering: it’s named after British physicist John William Strutt, also known as Lord Rayleigh, a nobel prize winner no less. Besides making the sky look blue, it is also the reason why the Sun looks yellow during the day even though sunlight is white. When the Sun is high in the sky, the light has to travel a shorter distance through the atmosphere. This means most of the yellow, orange, and red light passes through, while a small amount of blue and purple light is scattered and removed from the mix. The Sun, therefore, looks yellow for us here on Earth.

Due to Rayleigh scattering, most of the light of shorter wavelengths (blue, violet, and green) are scattered away multiple times, leaving only lights of longer wavelength (red, orange and yellow) to pass straight through to the observer.

This is why a rising and setting Sun tends to take on spectacular hues of red, orange, and yellow.

And yes, I did have to look all of that up!

We’ve been speculating about the effect of less air and road travel on air quality during lockdown and read that the quality of the air that sunlight has to pass through also has an effect on the colour of sunrises and sunsets. Dust particles and pollutants tend to tone down the colours in the sky as well as impede light from reaching those of us looking from ground level. Because of this, the sky takes on dull hues of red and yellow when the air is full of dust and pollutants. This is why sunrises and sunsets in rural areas, over the ocean, and deserts are much more vibrant and colourful than over cities and urban areas. It’s information that’s very relevant to me having had eye operations which totally changed my perception of colours.

As lovely as our skies were in this rural area, I don’t think they compete with the views down at Rye Harbour looking out to sea.

and if you do want to head over to their Twitter account, they have a lovely few seconds of time-lapse video of the sunrise. It’s just lovely.

I’ve got more pink - not so vivid, but still pink.

The Egyptian Goose is a very distinctive looking small goose with its chestnut eye patches and pink legs and is a member of the shelduck family. In the wild it is invariably found in pairs or family parties. Flocks of 50 or more can be found after the breeding season.

They were once common along the entire Nile valley and in ancient times were regarded as sacred, but the Egyptian Goose is now largely confined to upper Egypt. It is, however, widespread and common throughout sub-Saharan Africa and there are introduced populations firmly established in England, Holland, Belgium and France. They were brought to Britain in the late 17th century as an ornamental bird for the lakes of country gentlemen and apparently as an exhibit at St James’ menagerie. 

Photo Credit: my South East London Correspondent Ms NW tE

Egyptian Geese are early breeders, with pairs defending potential breeding sites from January onwards. Cavities in trees are favoured, but they may also nest on the ground.

BTO

Unfortunately, as always happens with introduced species, which become ‘invasive; there are concerns over conflict with native species which have now lead to restrictions on keeping them in Britain and Europe. 

The UK Invasive Alien Species (Enforcement and Permitting) Order 2019 came into force on Sunday 1st December. The Order implements requirements contained in EU Regulation 1143/2014 on Invasive Alien Species, which sets out rules to prevent and minimise the impact of the introduction and spread of non-native animals and plants across the EU. The Order makes it an offence, amongst other things, to import, keep, sell, transport, breed or release into the environment, any of the listed plants and animals. Invasive alien waterfowl currently covered by this Order are Egyptian Geese and Ruddy Ducks 

Egyptian Geese on the lawns in front of Kensington Palace.

I was going to say that was the last time we saw any, but thinking about it, there were some on the lake at Petworth House when we went last year.

Males and females look alike,except the female is smaller and often has darker markings on the bill. Their calls are distinctly different. The male emits strong but hoarse hissing sounds, while the female makes harsh, trumpeting quacks. I’ve put a sweet little video of a pair towards the end of this blog. 

The main concentration of Egyptian Geese in England, is at Holkham Park where recent counts have totalled as many as 170 birds.  Indeed today, according to The Wildfowl and Wetland Trust. Norfolk holds over 90% of the national population of some 900 birds.

In their tropical African home Egyptian geese frequent rivers, marshes and lakes resorting to a wide range of nesting sites. Cavities and holes in trees and abandoned nests of other birds may be selected; also ledges on cliffs and banks. 

Males will draw attention to themselves for the mating season with noisy displays and fierce territorial fighting both on water and on land. Rivals will stand or swim, breast to breast, continually attempting to seize each other's backs near the base of the neck, while beating with wings and even striking with feet. It all sounds very violent.

Once mating has taken place, following on from egg laying, the birds almost disappear until the time comes to escort flotillas of goslings to the water. Clutches of eight or nine eggs hatch after about four weeks. The downy chicks are similar in markings to those of the Shelduck (confusing, but as I said, they are related) Sadly, despite the clutch size, it’s often the case that only one or two young survive following predation by Crows and competition with Canada Geese and Greylags. I suppose like Pheasants, the large lay compensates for the mortality rate.

Male and Female getting vocal below...

That it’s for today. sunrises and Geese. The Blog that just keeps on giving.

NOTE FROM THE KITCHEN:

Tonight’s supper is a roast chicken with tarragon, roast parsnips and potatoes and left over veggies including some really lovely ratatouille.

FACT OF THE DAY:

I was not wearing any pink. I was wearing a rust coloured jumper, which some of you may be familiar with and dark moss green trousers. What a fraud.

Research: waterfowl org and Birds of Britain

[newstfionline]

The island that switches countries every six months

BBC, 28 January 2018

Next week, France will hand over 3,000 sq m (3,200 sq ft) of its territory to Spain without a single shot being fired. But in six months’ time Spain will voluntarily hand back the land to France. As Chris Bockman reports, it’s been that way for more than 350 years.

The French Basque beach resort of Hendaye is the last town before the border with Spain. Out of season, its beautiful curved sandy bay seems to be occupied by hundreds of seals. But look more closely and they are, in fact, defiant winter surfers in wetsuits.

Just beyond a long breakwater is the historic Spanish town of Hondarribia and its sprawling, built-up neighbour Irun. The natural border is the river Bidassoa, which flows into an estuary dividing the two countries.

As you go upstream from the river mouth, the view changes. Imposing and colourful Basque buildings give way to industrial warehouses on the French side, and unappealing residential tower blocks on the Spanish.

But what I have come to see is Pheasant Island (in French Ile des Faisans, in Spanish Isla de los Faisanes). It’s not easy to find. When I ask for directions, nobody understands why I want to go there. They tell me there is nothing to see and warn me you can’t visit it--no-one lives there, it’s not a tourist destination like Mont St Michel.

But there it is--a peaceful, inaccessible island in the middle of the river, with tree cover and neatly trimmed grass, and an old monument which pays tribute to a remarkable historical event that happened here in 1659.

For three months, the Spanish and French negotiated the end to their long war on the island, as it was considered neutral territory. Wooden bridges were extended from both sides. The armies stood ready as the negotiations began.

A peace agreement was signed--the Treaty of the Pyrenees. Territory was swapped and the border demarcated. And the deal was sealed with a royal wedding, as the French King Louis XIV married the daughter of the Spanish King Philip IV.

One other detail was that the island itself was to be shared between the two countries, with control rotating from one to the other. For six months of the year, from February 1 to 31 July, it’s under Spanish rule--and for the following six months it’s French. This sort of joint sovereignty is called a condominium, and Faisans Island is one of the oldest in existence.

The naval commander in the Spanish town of San Sebastian and his French counterpart in Bayonne act as governors or viceroys of the island. In reality they have bigger fish to deal with, so it’s up to the Mayors of Irun and Hendaye to take turns looking after the island.

Benoit Ugartemendia runs the parks division for the local council in Hendaye. He told me he sends a small team once a year by boat to the island to cut the grass, trim the tree branches and that’s about it. The river is tidal--you can sometimes reach the island by foot from Spain--so as well as cutting the grass, the Spanish police chase off illegal campers.

The island is tiny--just over 200m long and 40m wide. Very occasionally, the public is invited to visit on heritage open days, but Benoit says it only interests older people, and younger people know nothing of its historical importance.

These days, crossing from France to Spain by land is a seamless experience except for the gridlocked traffic--but under the Franco dictatorship, the border was heavily policed. The Mayor of Hendaye, Kotte Ecenarro, told me there used to be sentry points every 100m along the river facing the island to prevent opponents getting in or out.

These days, the mayors of Irun and Hendaye meet about a dozen times a year to discuss issues like water quality and fishing rights. In the past, Spanish fishermen have complained about the shape of French boats and lately have been upset with French holiday makers in canoes disrupting their business.

The island itself is a low priority. It’s being eroded--it has lost nearly half of its size over the centuries, as snow melt rushes down from the Pyrenees and into the river. But neither country wants to spend money building up the island’s defences.

This year, there will be no ceremony marking the handover. There was an idea to fly the flag of whichever country was currently in--but Mr Ecenarro the mayor told me that until recently, that would only have encouraged the Basque Separatists to take it down or replace it with their own. So in a few days’ time--perhaps the world’s most undisputed border island will change ownership again. And in August Spain will hand it back once more.

[gearthrasher-blog]

Are You Using the Wrong Upland Vest?

 by Gearthrasher

Let's face it, one of the fun parts of any sport and what keeps a lot of companies in business and pays a lot of bills is adding new gear to your collection, but knowing what gear is made for your sport isn't always as cut and dried as you might think. When we buy athletic shoes, there is no one size fit all approach. Soccer shoes are for soccer, and basketball shoes are for basketball. It's the same way with a lot of hunting gear.

Several years ago, my dad asked for a hunting vest for Christmas. My wife wanted to show that she understood what he wanted and picked out a vest (without consulting me) and wouldn't let me see it till my dad opened it on Christmas. When it came time to open the presents my dad looked at this nice upland vest and tried to show his excitement and appreciation even though he hadn't hunted upland game in years. What he had wanted was a big game hunting vest. Although they were both orange, that is where the similarities between the two styles of vests end. To my wife she was getting a hunting vest, but she had no idea that there were different vests for different types of hunting. So the point of this article is to discuss some different types of upland game vests and their uses so that you can pick the right vest for your next hunt.  

The term “Upland Game” spans a number of different species and a lot of hunting styles and terrain covered. From hunting quail in Texas, grouse in Alaska to doves in Ohio the climate and territory covered changes dramatically. Consequently there is not one single vest that truly fits in every scenario. Because of this, choosing the right gear for the job takes a little more effort and thought than simply buying a vest with a game bag attached. Now it is important to note that although turkeys are considered and upland species, I am not going to go into turkey hunting vests, as those are an entirely different topic.

When I started hunting as a teenager, I didn't have much except for an old style upland vest with a cheap plastic game bag on the back. The fit was off, the game bag often bled through to my back and the shell loops lost their elasticity quickly. It was no frills and I was totally happy with it because I didn't know any better. At the time, I never even considered that there might be something more or better than what I had, but times have changed.

Traditional Field Vest

By far the most widely used style of upland game vest, the traditional field vest is what I used as my first vest. They are usually made of canvas or another such durable material with game bags attached to the back. You will typically find a number of pockets for carrying everything from extra ammo to your lunch. These vests are very versatile and can be used for all types of hunting, however they do not offer much insulation so when hunting in cold conditions you will have to wear layers underneath. As a side note, make sure that your insulating layers fit under the vest and also offer good range of movement.  Traditional field vests do not typically offer a lot of load support for carrying extra items such as water, ammo and lunch. If your hunt takes you on very long distance hikes over rough terrain, there are better options. Things to consider are storage capacity, size of game bag and whether the vest interferes with mounting your gun. Some good examples of these types of vests are: Gamehide Shelterbelt Upland Vest- $35, Cabela's Upland Traditions Vest- $70, Columbia Ptarmigan Vest- $100.

Strengths

Most widely available upland vest and can be found in almost any sporting good store

Affordable, with an entry level price of about $30.00

Great for short jaunts where lots of extra gear isn't needed

Warmer weather hunts

Weaknesses

Carrying capacity and weight distribution

Lack of insulation and getting a size large enough to fit jackets under

Long hikes where additional gear is required

Species

Quail, Doves, Pheasants, Rabbits, Grouse

Upland Coat or Parka Vest

While these aren't really vest, they are a good option and have a lot of similar features. Some of them even have zip-off sleeves that allow them to adapt to changing weather. The upland parka is typically heavy jacket with an integrated game bag on the back. Some of them have a full wrap around game bag so that it can be loaded from the front, or the back. These jackets at usually packed with features and have lots of pockets. They are especially good for hunts in very cold weather where maximum warmth is desired but the area being hunted is not so strenuous that the wearer breaks a sweat. The Upland Parka/Jacket is truly designed for the highest level of protection from the elements. They usually have a higher carrying capacity and some of them even have a belt suspension system underneath. These are designed to keep you warm and carry your birds. A great choice for chilly pheasant hunts. Things to consider are the carrying capacity of the pockets, bulk, weight and range of motion with the jacket on. Some good examples of these are: Guide Gear Upland Jacket- $99, Carhartt Upland Field Jacket- $139, Columbia Ptarmigan Interchange Parka- $220.  

Strengths

Maximum protection from the elements

Lots of pocket space

Cold hunts over low to moderate terrain

Heavy weight and durable

Weaknesses

Can be too heavy for really long treks over steep terrain

Bulk can potentially restrict movement

Overall load handling

Can be expensive

Species

Pheasants, Grouse, Rabbits

Strap Vest

The strap vest is is the day pack of upland vests. They are usually light weight and can be very spartan or have a lot of features. Strap vests are designed for carrying heavier loads than Traditional or Parka vests, They are designed to be worn on hunts that cover a lot of uneven and steep terrain and typically have a game back attached to the back. They usually have a waist strap that secures tightly to take the load off of the shoulders. Because of the straps, they are usually highly adjustable to a lot of different sizes. In cold weather, layers must be worn under the strap vest, however because of the adjustable nature of these vests, they can usually accommodate extra layers. These vests are excellent in a variety of hunting situations, but excel when long distances must be covered over rough terrain and a lighter load is desired. Strap vests can be very minimal or have a lot of features and pockets. Things to consider when choosing a strap vest are how much storage you will need and if the shoulder straps interfere with mounting your gun. Commonly used by grouse and partridge hunters. Some examples of these vests are: Browning Pheasant Forever Strap Vest- $50, Cabela's Upland Pro Strap Vest- $99, L.L. Bean Pa'tridge Strap Vest- $119

Strengths

Excellent load carrying

Very light weight

Good for very long hikes

Potential to have lots of cargo capacity for extra gear

Weaknesses

No insulation

Must be large enough to fit over clothing

Most priced at $100 or more

Species

Quail, Pheasants, Partridges, Grouse, Rabbits

Pack Vest

I saved my favorite till last! These are some of the newest entrants in the field and are gaining popularity. Officially, I don't know if they are called pack vests, but it is the term I use because these vests look like a cross between a strap vest and a backpack. They are usually lightweight and have a large cargo capacity for extra long hunts. These vests usually have the highest carrying capacity and the best load management. They have a game bag on the back and most have designated water bottle holders as well as a place for your lunch or other clothing layer. I have found that I can carry enough water for me and my dog and have plenty of spare space for electronics. I switched from a traditional vest to a pack vest last year and could not be happier! Most of my hunting is over long, rough terrain and this vest has been excellent for that. For me the pack vest is the most versatile of the choices if you are managing dogs and carrying a lot of extra gear. Things to consider are storage pockets, water bladder compatibility, weight and if the shoulder straps interfere with mounting your gun. Some examples of pack vests are: Tenzing BV16 Upland Vest- $169, Alps OutdoorZ Upland Game Vest- $149, Badlands Upland Vest/Pack- $189

Strengths

Long grueling mountain slogs where more gear is required

Can be used for a variety of hunting situations

Light weight

Weaknesses

No insulation value

Not located in all stores and can be difficult to find

Can be very expensive

Must fit over insulating layers and still allow range of movement

Species

Quail, Pheasants, Partridges, Grouse, Rabbits

As you can see, each of these vests has something different to offer. There is no one vest that is right for all conditions, but that's what makes hunting fun buying more gear right? In the end you must choose the vest that is right for you, but I hope the information shared here helps you make a better decision on the right vest for you. Bear in mind that these are just my thoughts and opinions and I am always welcome to hear your comments and suggestions. See you on the mountain!