#green patterned area rug

[berrybobs]

Kitchen Dining in San Francisco Medium-sized eclectic kitchen/dining room combination with gray walls and medium-tone wood flooring

[danielaprice]

Family Room in Toronto A picture of a medium-sized family room in the transitional loft style with a medium tone wood floor and blue walls, a regular fireplace, a concrete fireplace, and a wall-mounted television.

[you-will-rebel-to-any-thing]

Library Open in Milan Ideas for remodeling a mid-sized contemporary open concept family room and library with light wood floors and beige walls

[ben69solo]

Living Room Los Angeles Image of a medium-sized, modern living room with an open concept dark wood floor and black floor, a media wall, gray walls, and no fireplace.

[clockward]

Loft-Style Family Room

A picture of a medium-sized family room in the transitional loft style with a medium tone wood floor and blue walls, a regular fireplace, a concrete fireplace, and a wall-mounted television.

[berenicelefebvre]

Kitchen Dining Dining Room Orlando Kitchen/dining room combo - large contemporary ceramic tile kitchen/dining room combo idea with white walls and no fireplace

[levi-seijuro]

Contemporary Family Room - Family Room Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary open concept family room library remodel with beige walls and a media wall. The floors are light wood.

[exo-plushie]

Library Family Room in Milan Mid-sized modern open concept family room library with light wood floors

[zetsubonoheishi]

Contemporary Living Room Denver Inspiration for a large contemporary loft-style medium tone wood floor living room remodel with white walls, a standard fireplace, a metal fireplace and a tv stand

[1-800-local-slut]

House of Memories (Spencer's Version)

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! FBI! Reader

A look at your life with Spencer through the eyes of his team mates

Warnings: none really, just fluff, the team being observant, adult objects (condoms, alcohol, etc.,), not a warning but a note: reader isn't in the BAU but she works in the FBI, through Emily's POV

“I wasn’t expecting an invite from you, Reid. Thanks for having me over.” The front door to the apartment opened. Emily was holding a bottle of cheap wine that she grabbed from the liquor store down the street when she realized she forgot to bring a house gift. It was a close call too, she was literally driving past it when she realized and had to make a very hasty u-turn. 

“It’s no problem, thank you for coming! Derek, Garcia and Hotch are in the living room, Rossi’s in the bathroom and JJ’s coming late. Her loss though, I think she’d really enjoy Interstellar and if she comes late I know she’s going to complain. Come in, just take your shoes off if you don’t mind.” Emily nodded, after Spencer gave her a light side hug and accepted the bottle from her. 

He wore a white tee-shirt, pajama bottoms, and smelt fresh. His hair was damp as well, like he’d showered a few hours ago but his hair is so thick that it takes a minute for it to dry. She noticed his light shrug, as if it wasn’t his preference but he would take it anyways. 

Ghosting through the threshold, she bent down and slipped off her boots. She heard light chatter, music, smelt a vanilla and sea salt (it was a rough guess) candle burning, and heard the clatter of pots in the kitchen. 

She couldn’t help it, her analytical mind working before she could stop it. Sometimes she would find herself profiling strangers even when it was rude. And profiling your coworker who invited you into his home was very rude. 

Spencer’s shoes were thrown on the floor, one knocked on its side but still close together. As if it was an attempt on his end to be some sort of neat. Pairs of heels, pumps, boots were lined on the shoe rack but after doing a quick count, she noticed something. There were far more womens shoes than there were mens shoes. About six pairs of men's shoes to a 10 women’s shoe ratio.

Aaron, David, Derek make three, and the other three were clearly Spencer’s. Pen’s shoes obviously were one of those female shoes. The bright purple heels sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the browns, blacks, and deep reds of the female shoes. 

‘Enough Emily, stop being rude.’ 

“Your house is beautiful Spencer.” She couldn’t help but look around in slight awe. She wasn’t expecting Spencer’s house to be so…neat? No, that sounds mean. Neat in a way that didn’t seem like it was all Spencer. Sure Spencer’s little unique touches were sprinkled about the apartment and she was still standing at the doorway.

There were pictures of nature hanging on the wall, of a young black woman standing in front of a large pond far from the camera. She wore a pink baseball cap and had her hands flung out as if to emphasize how big the pond was. Who was that? A secret lover? She looked familiar, like a face Emily had seen in passing.

“Oh thanks. I just moved in a few months ago so not everything is fully set up.” Spencer called from the kitchen, and there were three clicks from the stove. Then he slid out, wiping his hands on a towel. As she walked through the house, she noticed more.

Potted plants with lush green leaves, knitted plant holders hanging from the ceiling, a red and dark blue patterned rug on the floor in the hall. From where she stood, she could see there was a small dining area. A nice wooden table, with papers and files scattered all over. 

She found her way to the living room and saw her coworkers engaged in whispers on the couch. More papers and files were on the small tables on either side of the couch, a contrast to the neatness of the rest of the house.

“Hey everybody, what’s up?” Emily asked. Heads snapped towards her, and she noticed Penelope’s eyes curved up in a mischievous grin. 

“Hi! Come sit, come sit.” Penelope motioned next to her, Derek and Rossi sliding over to make room for her. 

“Did you make it in okay?” Hotch asked and Emily nodded while she slipped onto the brown leather sofa. A dark purple hand knitted black was thrown over the back of it. Did Spencer take up knitting or was this just a nice purchase? 

Spencer plopped down into the brown leather armchair and rested his feet on the pouf in front of him. Emily noticed how spotless the glass coffee table in front of them was. 

The whole house was ridiculously clean. The wooden floors sparkled, the carpets meticulously vacuumed, the TV sparkled and the speakers next to the TV were flawlessly dusted. The large oak bookshelf that was up against the wall that was closest to the kitchen was also dusted and the books neatly organized. 

When would Spencer have time to clean his house so thoroughly? They were on a mission all of last week, got back two nights ago and have been at work since then. Sure, it’s Spencer he could just be very clean but the way things sparkled, it was clear they were cleaned merely a few hours ago. 

When they did go home it was late at night and they were back at work early the next day. Did he spend his whole Saturday afternoon scrubbing his floors, and preparing to cook for them? Spencer wasn’t the type to have a housekeeper, especially when he does his work all over and you can’t exactly leave FBI documents in the eye of the eye of a random house keeper.

“Sorry about the paperwork, I still have to set up my study. I have to put up my desk and everything.” Everyone voiced a consolation, some variation of ‘I don’t mind’ or ‘you should see my place’.

“Not the handyman?” Derek teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. Spencer’s been smiling a lot more lately.

“I like keeping myself out of the hospital. Did you know every 45 minutes a piece of furniture falls on someone, and 25,000 people a year are treated at the hospital for a furniture related incident?” Spencer rattled off, emphasizing the numbers with his fingers.

Before anyone else could say anything, the doorbell rang. Spencer glanced back at the door, before he sprung to his feet with enthusiasm like he was expecting  Emily and Penelope exchanged looks, giggling while Rossi lightly rolled his eyes.

“Of course he knows that. Also, did any of you know that Spencer moved to a new place?” Derek asked.

“Well I knew. I know where all of you live. But it was very considerate of him to invite us over.” Hotch nodded, taking a sip of a bottle of water. Not Spencer’s usual brand but she did notice a switch some time ago. From Purelife to Poland Spring.

“Did you see the coat? Hanging by the door rack?” Penelope whispered, motioning for everyone to come in closer. There was a devilish twinkle in her eyes, her brain working overtime.

“What, you think he has some… extra company? A secret lover?” Rossi chuckled. Of course she noticed, but she just thought it was Penelope’s. 

“Maybe! Do you think?” Penelope asked excitedly, her hands flapping around with enthusiasm. Oh Penelope, ever the romantic. Derek giggled next to Penelope. He was lightly smacked by Penelope as a rebuttal and he giggled as if the slaps tickled him and they heard Spencer’s reapproaching foot steps along with an extra pair of heels. 

They all turned, eager to see who it was. Would it be the woman in the photo? His mom? Someone else?

“JJ!” Emily exclaimed when the final member of their team came in. She twisted around in her seat, happy to see her friend. JJ wasn’t able to make it on their last assignment so it had been a minute since they’d seen her. For people who practically live together, spending almost every moment together while at work was normal. They’d all fallen into a natural balance of being around each other. Of course they’d missed JJ while she was out sick.

“Hi!” She held her arms open for hugs, while the entire team voiced their hellos.

“Sorry I’m late, the grocery store was ridiculous. You wouldn’t believe what I saw, some lady's ex boyfriend came there and she called the cops on him like right there in the store. Apparently, he gave her something on purpose. She got on the speaker and called him ‘Dirty Dick David’. And then they fired her for playing with the mic that way!” She told her story while passing out hugs and then plopped down in the opposite arm chair across from the one Spencer was sitting in before.

“What?” Spencer laughed while he sat back down. 

“Right there it happened.” The whole team was laughing and Emily remembered that this was why she got along with her team so well. The easy laughter was so simple and refreshing.

“Woah, right there is insane! I guess she was sick of him.” Emily leaned slightly into Penny, allowing herself more comfort

“Imagine being at work and your ex who purposely infected you with something shows up to both you? I’d be pissed too.” Derek chuckled.

“I’ve been through three wives and never got a reaction like that, Dirty Dick David certainly had it coming.” Rossi added before they all laughed even harder.

Then there was a loud ringing noise. Spencer’s phone was going off and he patted himself down, lifting himself up checking to see if he was sitting on it. Then he got up, his face making a tiny expression like he could finally recall.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He ran into the kitchen and Penelope pulled everyone into a huddle.

“Okay, here’s what you missed JJ, you ready?”

“I’m ready?” She asked with an arch eyebrow and a nervous smile.

“There’s a bunch of lady stuff around here, like a coat and I don’t know if you saw the shoes but there are a lot of lady shoes. Rossi was in the bathroom and saw a bunch of lady stuff too, like a special face cleanser but he didn’t wanna snoop. I think he should’ve gone for it but whatever. Also I don’t know if you know but I know that Spencer doesn’t cook. 

His house is also really clean like really really clean like it was just clean but when would he have gotten the time to clean it? I mean we got off work like three hours ago. Running theories? Spencer has a housekeeper, a secret girlfriend, or his moms visiting. Got it? Okay, got it.” 

JJ blinked after Garcia’s rapid rundown, Derek nodding like he was able to keep up with that and Hotch all around looked displeased.

“We are guests in Spencer’s home, don’t go looking through his stuff. Maybe Spencer likes that stuff, that’s not any of our concern.” He frowned with a crease in his eyebrows. 

“Yeah Garcia, besides if Spence did get a girlfriend then I think that’s great for him.” JJ chuckled and Derek rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m back! I picked up the shrimp and some wine. I also got some beers if you want any. The coolers are for me, you can have one but don’t take any of the pink ones. I like those ones.”  A familiar voice sounded through the house.

The sound of socks hitting the floor padded through the house and a young woman walked in. The woman from the photo more specifically. Her hair was in long braids that curled around her waist. She was gorgeous, a red scarf was wrapped around her neck to protect her from the chilly winter air. More specifically she was familiar. 

More specifically she was from a different team. More specifically a member of the HRT. The Hostage Rescue Unit. They’ve seen Spencer speaking with her a lot. They’ve teased him for their closeness multiple times, and knew they were a bit closer. But Emily didn’t know they were such close friends. For her to just walk into his home this way.

No offense to Spencer but when Emily said she was hot, she meant she was hot. Like she just stepped out of a magazine. And she never thought Spencer would have it in him to pull. Spencer was certainly nothing to sneeze at but my god was this woman attractive.

She was making her way through the house, to the kitchen lightly waddling. She held a bag of groceries and as if she could feel all the eyes on her she turned. 

“Oh hi! I’m sorry, I ran out to the grocery store. I didn’t realize we ran out of shrimp but the food will be done soon.” She beamed at them and put one of her hands on her hips. And Emily did as profilers do. She profiled even if she didn’t truly mean too. She was wearing pajama pants, and a puffy coat that was zipped open to reveal a white tank top. Above all she radiated joy, confidence and comfort.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Hotch cleared his throat, and she nodded at the members of the BAU.

“You got the shrimp?” Spencer called, coming out of the kitchen, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants. He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She instinctively angled her head to his and pushed herself up onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Penelope was on the verge of exploding, her mouth open in a wide grin. She let out an excited squeal. The two agents jumped upon hearing the high pitched noise and everyone on the couch turned to face her.

“What?! Oh my god, when were you gonna tell us?!” Penelope asked, bounding up from the couch. Spencer looked confused above all as Penelope raced towards him and his apparent girlfriend.

“I didn’t think I had to, we weren’t exactly shy about it.” Spencer laughed as he looked at Penelope basically bouncing up and down in front of him. She giggled and Penelope paused.

“Dude we thought you were just friends?” Derek questioned from the couch. Spencer shook his head, looking more and more shocked by the second.

“So how long has this been going on?” Emily asked with a laugh. She had to laugh! How could she not be happy for Spencer? He looked so happy, he literally hadn’t stopped smiling since she came into the door and they kissed.

“Like a year? I mean, I know we jumped the gun with moving, but my lease was up and I decided that this would work and I couldn’t find anywhere close enough to work. We decided to go for it.” Spencer added, scratching the back of his neck.

“You guys really had no idea? I mean I tell you guys that we go out every weekend, I have a picture of her on my desk. We literally come to work together everyday.” Spencer exclaimed, motioning around with his hands.

“I don't see you that often at work, they probably don’t really notice those things.” She rationalized to him and rubbed a hand over his chest. He never moved his hand from around her waist. 

It all made sense. The candles littered around the house, the small basket of yarn and needles on the floor next to one of the arm chairs. The food even smelt too seasoned to be like anything Spencer could cook, the photos that Emily was just now realizing were taken of Spencer. The romance novel that Emily saw sitting on the glass coffee table. How spotless the entire house was. The shoes, the coat, Emily was just mad at herself for not recognizing the photo.

“Well. Way to go Reid, I didn’t know you had it in you.” She smirked at Derek’s remark and stood on her toes again. She whispered something in Spencer’s ear and he cackled with his mouth open in shock. 

He was turning a bashful shade of red and his voice squeaked as he sent her away. 

“I’ll be finished with your food soon, you guys.” Trailing into the kitchen, Spencer glanced over as if to check if she needed anything.

“Oh gosh, you didn’t have to cook for us! Thank you so much!” Emily exclaimed, realizing that she was just sitting there like a fish with her mouth wide open. 

“Let her cook, why not enjoy dinner and a movie?” Rossi joked. It seemed like the shock had dissipated and JJ giggled, her blonde hair shining like the Sun and Emily noted how her entire face lit up like a star.

“Honey, can you come help me with these groceries?” Spencer nodded, following her into the kitchen. They watched, waiting to watch them fully go into the kitchen. Then like little girls at a sleepover, they leaned back into their huddle. 

“Wow!”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Hotch tried to keep the peace before his team of impatient agents ran rampant. Emily herself felt like she needed answers and she needed them now. 

“Did you see the way he looked at her? They’re so cute, I had a feeling when he came to work that one time smelling like perfume and wearing the same clothes but they were like all up on each other.” Penelope whispered excitedly. 

“I always knew opposites attract. You know they make a handsome couple too.” The excitement died down for a second and everyone had to look at Rossi. Who even used that phrasing anymore?

“You’re so old, Rossi.” JJ giggled and Hotch shook his head. Rossi smiled playfully, the way he always did when they made fun of him for being ancient.

“What do they even talk about? I mean sure they have stuff in common but for a whole year? I wasn’t expecting that!” Emily exclaimed.

“Reid’s never short on things to talk about.” Derek teased and Penelope swatted him again.

“I mean I noticed he’d been a bit happier but I wasn’t expecting this! I guess you just never know.” JJ added in, glancing over to the kitchen to make sure the two weren’t standing right there. 

“We can find out what they talk about.” No one wanted to admit it but they wanted to snoop so bad. So bad that when Penelope suggested it the best thing to do was to stop talking and be extra quiet so they could hear. Even Hotch, slowly reclined.

Over the clatter of pans, the soft clinking of bottles and things being put away, and dishes being taken out they heard her voice. 

“Emily brought us some wine. Pink.” Spencer’s voice broke through and Emily tensed up. Oh god, what if they hated the wine? 

“Oh my favorite. I’ve always liked that Emily. If it wasn’t for you, I’d go for her.” She laughed and plopped something into what sounded like a liquid. 

Derek made some funny eyebrows at Emily and Emily felt her cheeks heat up. JJ and Penelope both grabbed each other to stifle a laugh. As bad as it was to listen to your teammate and his girlfriend's conversation, they couldn’t stop.

“Aw babe don’t pout.” Then a kissing noise.

“There’s that smile. Also I picked up some condoms, we were down to six and you know we go through those like crazy. Speaking of which, I was thinking, do we really need those? I mean I’m on the pill and at the rate we go we’d save more money just not having sex. To be honest we spend a bit too much money on that stuff anyways and I don’t want to replace another bed frame. I like this one and we literally just got it. That or we just need to stop having sex so often. The call is totally yours but that bitch who works at the front cashier keeps looking at me funny everytime she sees me walk up.” It took a moment for everyone to process what she was talking about. It really took a moment. An identical frown spread over both Rossi and Hotch, and Derek had to put his fist in his mouth to avoid cackling. 

Oh god, this was an awful idea. Now there was just awkward silence. None of them could say anything even if they wanted to.

“So my options are death, death or going raw?” Spencer whined immediately.  Emily focused her eyes on something else instantly, the patterned carpet on the floor, the TV that was showing different scenery as it was in rest mode.

“Oh my god, you are so dramatic! You’re not going to die if we don’t have sexy every day.” The sound of a spoon clattering down and then she broke out into a fit of giggles.

“But how do you know!” He whined again.

“Like I said, it's your choice. It doesn’t really matter to me, I’m just sick of always having to go to the store. And you’re squeezing my ribs.”

“I like your idea. Besides, we have abortion money.” She gasped softly and then broke into light laughter. JJ’s jaw dropped open and Derek snorted before he covered his nose. Of everything that was expected it wasn’t that.

“That’s awful, baby.” She scolded and Emily got a mental image of the two. Was she standing in front of the stove, the smell of food wafting through the house, Spencer standing behind her with arms wrapped firmly around her? If Emily wasn’t so uncomfortable right now her mouth would be watering. It would also warm her heart to hear how happy her friend was.

“I’m sorry.” He joined in on the laughter.

“Oh my god we’re being awful host! Plate up the soup and I’ll pour the wine.”

Once the two came back out, it was hard to even look at Spencer knowing that he had apparently helped break a bed frame. Even if he was holding trays of the most mouth watering gumbo.

“Who wants to watch Interstellar?”

[customcarpethouse]

Handmade green tufted rug, crafted with love and care by a local artisan. This rug is made of high-quality wool and features a beautiful geometric pattern that adds a touch of elegance to any room. Whether you want to warm up your living room, bedroom, or office, this rug is the perfect choice for you. Order yours today and enjoy the comfort and beauty of this unique piece. #handmaderug #greentuftedrug #homedecor #supportlocal

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Do you think that we’ll explore the town of Green Hills, Montana in the series and Sonic 3? Like slice of life stuff or more history? I don’t think that there’s a whole lot to the town other than it being described as a “dinky backwater town.”

Hi Honey! ❤️✨

Believe it or not, the town of Green Hills is very fruitful in its foundation! It may not feel like it, but there’s definitely a rich history of when the town was established. (Whew! Now y’all get to see how big of a nerd I am. That’s either a really good thing or a bad thing). I’ll hyperlink all of my sources/claims to specific information so y’all can review it at a later date. Hopefully, this add a bit more detail than what the Sonic Wikis have for the films.

Down below are bullet points and photos of Green Hills, Montana:

Green Hills was founded in the early 1800's by a group of explorers surveying and mapping that state of Montana. The rugged explorers took nearly 30 years in making a complete map of the state and claiming the area as home. Green Hills is located in the middle of the state and known to have fascinating geological features. The town was called "Green Hills" due to the unique shades of green found in its flora. Essentially, the town was founded by chance because it took so long to survey between 1806 to 1835.

One of the town's founders, Morgan McConnell, specifically wanted to build a town in the heart of Montana because of the area's geological feature--checkered patterns. Morgan McConnell was credited for charting nearly a quarter of the state, including the town, and coined as as THE explorer of Montana. His favorite location to sit and work at was the Devil's Pinkie (the ledge that Sonic stands at in the first and second film). Unexpectedly, McConnell fell off of the Devil's Pinkie and died. According to town legend, McConnell's name echoed through the valley ranges for hours after he died. It's unknown if these are still heard in the area today.

Between 1870 and 1883, the town of Green Hills became one of the firsts settled areas along the Northern Pacific Railway. The transcontinental railroad system stretched from the State of Minnesota, the Pacific Northwest, and along the main line opening at the Great Lakes. A town plaque describes Green Hills as a "golden spike" by former USA president Ulysses S. Grant and viewed as an important hub. The town is credited as a supply depot, as well as known for bringing in large immigration populations. The railroad system is still a crucial necessity of the town today.

The first settlers of Green Hills, Montana didn't start making their migration to the area until the 1860s. The settlers were faced with hardships of the land, lack of infrastructure, and brutal winters. Families were known to mingle together in small dwellings and form small communities. Polygamous families were common until Christian morality arrived to the area in later years (Welcome-to-Green-Hills, 2021).

Main Street features the town's first general store, a feed and gardening supply store, and post office.

Green Hills, Montana takes pride in country hospitality. The warmer months have communal events such as hoedowns, harvests and festivals, fishing derbies, farmers markets, and horseback riding events. The business district features Dr. Maddie Wachowski's veterinary clinic, antique shops, a brewery (AKA, the Beer Gardens), a stationary shop, a butcher's shop, and the Mean Bean Coffee Shop (the slogan: "drink mean"). (Tails Channel, 2021).

The Green Hills Community Theater is a town gem. It was established in 1905 and has been known to put on spectacular and successful productions for over 100 years.

The Green Hills Bulletin (the local newspaper) says that they've been the hot spot for a classic car show for the past twenty years, have a "Dog of the Week" section, a local artist guild that does mosaics for the town, recently had a worker's strike on repairing the railroad system in town, and are in the middle of a movement for accessibility laws for disabled residents.

In the first movie's novel, Green Hills is known for its massive Blueberry festivals in the fall. This is an event that's welcome to all of the farmers in the state and neighboring states. Tom is known to actively take part of the festival.

In the 1900's, the town saw an influx of United States veterans occupy the area. It's seen as a "retirement community" to those not actively serving.

The town as a population of nearly 2,000 residents, as implied by the "Welcome to Green Hills" sign at the speed trap.

There's definitely more that the town has to offer in terms of history. When I have the chance, I'll give this post some more attention and add to it. Until then, enjoy some historical facts about our Dinky Backwater Town!

[junekissed]

mistletoe inn

member — inn owner!seungcheol x reader genre — fluff word count — 1.2k warnings — none! notes — requested by anon — for my winter wonderland event: seuncheol + "mistletoe inn"

read part 2 here - minors dni

"last stop, the mistletoe inn!"

you step off the bus with your luggage and sigh, pulling out your phone to check your messages.

as a surprise, you’d decided to spend your winter vacation with your parents– the only problem was, they’d decided to spend their winter vacation in hawaii, leaving you alone in their quiet mountain town with no place to stay and no way to get back until your flight home next weekend.

it’s been years since you’ve been home for the holidays, so you’d planned on staying with them and having a nice, quiet week at your parent’s house. but with them out of the state and you with no way to get in, you’re forced to find a hotel to stay at for the next week.

but in a town as small and rural as theirs, there are no major hotels; just small, family-owned bed and breakfasts, squished between cafes and family restaurants.

after calling your mom for recommendations, you finally settle on mistletoe inn, a cute little place at the edge of town that’s been in the choi family for generations.

stepping inside, you smile at how well the inn lives up to its name. a sprig of mistletoe hangs from the doorway, and the front desk is decorated in floral green and red.

“be right with you!” a voice calls from the other room, and you peer across the hallway to see a man in a brown cardigan putting a stack of books on a shelf. the room is a small library, complete with floor to ceiling bookshelves and tall stained glass windows that cast colorful patterns across the area rug on the floor.

you stand in the entryway, shifting back and forth on your feet as you wait for him to finish.

“i’m seungcheol,” the man says with a smile, finally coming into the room and walking behind the desk. “what can i do for you?”

“do you have any rooms? for the next week?”

he grins. “sure do! you prefer upstairs or downstairs?” he says, flipping open a large, leather bound book.

“um, downstairs is fine,” you reply.

he asks a few more questions about your stay, and you answer them politely, trying to avoid staring at him as much as you can. he’s unfairly attractive, to say the very least; fluffy brown hair hangs around his eyes, and crinkle lines appear when he smiles.

he moves back around to the other side of the counter to grab your bags and take them to your room for you. you follow him down the hall, taking in the decorations and paintings hanging on the walls. you pause in front of what looks like a family photo, looking at a dozen tiny smiling faces, no older than teenagers.

"is this your family?" you ask, pointing.

seungcheol laughs. "kind of. they’re just my buddies, but they're like family to me."

"who owns the inn, then?"

he pauses to think. "well, technically i do. it's really my grandma’s, though; it was her dream to own a bed and breakfast. my mom took it over, and when she moved it got passed down to me.”

you nod and continue following him down the hall until he stops in front of a door. “this is you,” he says, twisting the doorknob to reveal a gorgeous, cozy-looking room. “breakfast is at 8. let me know if you have any questions.”

you watch him enter the room, hoisting your bags onto the chair with ease, muscles clearly bulging through his thin cardigan that you pretend not to notice.

screw it, you’re only here for a week. maybe now is finally your chance to have a holiday romance.

he’s just about to leave when you call out his name. “hey, seungcheol? i, um… i actually do have a question.”

he turns back and looks at you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he waits for your question.

you shuffle your feet awkwardly, mentally building up the courage to ask him. “do you know any good cafes around here?”

he smiles. “yeah! there’s a little one down on fourth street that has a really great breakfast menu. and they have good coffee, too.”

“would you wanna go with me, maybe, like, tomorrow?” you ask. “if you’re not busy.”

he grins. maybe you’re imagining it, but you almost see his cheeks turn a little pinker. “tomorrow’s great!” he says.

he starts to walk away again, but at the last second he pauses and turns around. “i’m upstairs in room 13,” he adds. “if you… y’know, happen to find yourself in need of company.”

you feel your face heat, and you pray you aren’t misreading his intentions. “i’ll do that,” you answer with a smile.

he grins and shuts the door, leaving you alone to squeal in your room. maybe this disaster of a trip won’t be such a bad thing after all.

when you wake up, you’re surprised to see it’s still snowing- heavily. you call your parents to say good morning, then begin getting ready for the day.

a little while later you hear a knock on your door, and you get up to see who it is. opening the door reveals seungcheol, standing outside, scratching the back of his neck.

“hey, good morning!” you greet him, grinning.

“hey,” he says. “sorry it’s so early, but i needed to tell you something.”

“don’t worry, i was already up,” you giggle. “did something happen?” you ask, wondering why he’d be at your door barely past 8 in the morning.

he looks at his feet. “um, yeah,” he says. “the snow was really bad last night, and the whole town is snowed in. so we won’t be able to leave the inn today.”

“we’re… snowed in?”

“yeah,” he says apologetically. “i’m sorry if you had plans that got ruined.”

it’s disappointing, sure, but coming from the weather you’re used to at home, where it hasn’t snowed in decades, the thought of being snowed in is kind of exciting.

you smile. “actually, i don’t have any plans at all while i’m here, besides getting breakfast with you. but i’m fine if you wanna do something else today instead. if-if you’re not busy, that is.”

his face brightens. “i’m not working today, so… we could, cook something, if you want? i could show you some of my grandma’s christmas recipes.”

“we could have a picnic in my room, maybe?” you suggest.

“yeah, that would be nice,” he says, grinning. “sorry for bugging you so early on your first day, by the way. i swear we’re really nice to our guests here.”

you laugh. “i believe you. and it’s fine. i… like talking to you,” you admit shyly. even though you’ve known him for less than twenty four hours, you already get the feeling that he’s fun to talk to, and the more time you spend talking to him, the more you find yourself wanting to spend your entire trip with him.

your plans may have changed because of the weather, but you don’t doubt your trip will still be one of your best memories yet.

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[c-e-d-dreamer]

When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 1

A/N: Listen, I know this chapter is like super expositiony, but I need to set everything up, okay? Trust the process! Nessian will proper interact at their wedding next chapter, I promise 😉

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Nesta

The Moonstone Palace looms tall before them, the white stone somehow glinting and sparkling like it was truly made from pieces of the silent giant above, even despite the heavy gray clouds shrouding the moon. Moonflower vines creep along the walls and the spires, purple bleeding from the centers and through the blooming white petals. Despite the sweet scent floating toward them on the breeze, Nesta can’t help but shudder.

No matter how beautiful it looks on the outside, Nesta has never particularly cared for the palace that the vampires call home. The blacked out windows and heavy curtains make it seem as if there may be someone watching at all times, an unseen gaze grating across her skin, and the whole building just screams of the wealth the vampires have acquired through their near immortal years. It doesn’t help that they always only visit this place in the dead of night either.

“I better not hear a word out of any of you tonight,” Elinor reminds her daughters, lifting up her skirts enough to lead the way up the front steps.

“Yes, Mama,” Nesta agrees quietly, speaking for both her sisters as well, and following their mother up the steps.

“I mean it,” Elinor clips, pausing just in front of the door and turning over her shoulder to glare. But those icy, blue eyes aren't pinned on Nesta. It’s Feyre on the other end of their mother’s ire.

Even with the distance between them, Nesta can see the way her youngest sister’s jaw clenches, the way her fingers twitch in the skirts of her own dress. Despite their mother's efforts to beat that defiance out of her youngest daughter, it's clear it still thrums just beneath Feyre's skin. But it's faint and dimmed. The black gossamer fabric twisting down Feyre’s arms hides the bruises Nesta knows have bloomed across her upper arm, remnants from the most recent lesson with their mother.

“I’ll be on my best behavior, Mama,” Feyre confirms, dropping her gaze away from Elinor. “I promise.”

“You better be,” Elinor says, turning back around and raising her hands toward the large, arching front doors with a flourish. “You all have no idea how important tonight will be. The future I am building for us all.”

With a flick of Elinor’s wrist, magic sparking across her fingertips in the dark, the large doors slide open, the old wrought iron hinges creaking. There’s a near echoing boom as the doors settle, and they all step inside, into the large room that makes up the front entrance. Towering pillars line each of the walls, stretching higher and higher toward the domed ceiling above. The heavy curtains that live there have been pulled aside, allowing milky pale light to filter through the stained glass and paint patterns across the marble floors.

Elinor strides forward with practiced ease, down the long halls covered with thick rugs and dotted with the occasional lush plants. Almost every single one is some sort of variation of a night blooming flower, thriving and green despite the shadows that shroud the whole palace. Various open doorways lead to other sitting rooms, dining rooms, and work areas, gossamer curtains swaying in an almost phantom, magical breeze dividing them from the main hall, but they all seem empty as they pass by.

The hall finally opens at the end into a massive dining hall, a large dark oak table taking up the majority of the space at the center of the room. And sitting around the table, already gathered, are the various leaders and their immediate circles. Nesta supposes she shouldn’t be too surprised that their family is the last to arrive for this meeting. She swears her mother feeds off the way all the chatter in the room dies as they step inside, the way every set of eyes turns to them.

With her shoulders back and head held high, Elinor continues forward to the remaining open chair around the table, but as Nesta follows behind, settling at her mother’s shoulder, she eyes the others in attendance, everyone in attendance for this meeting.

The Vanserra coven sits immediately to the right. It seems strange to see Eris Vanserra sitting front and center, the exact details of what happened to Beron Vanserra one of the coven’s best kept secrets. Still, the eldest seems to have stepped into the new leadership role quite seamlessly. He has an almost bored expression on his face, but Nesta doesn’t miss the way his amber eyes dart toward the dark shadowed corners of the room.

Two of Eris’s brothers stand at either of his shoulders, his second and third. Nesta recognizes the youngest of the Vanserras, Lucien. Even with his long, red hair hanging around his face, the scars around his eye are stark in the low light of the room, the result of a spell gone wrong that also killed two of the other Vanserra boys.

The vampires have claimed the seats directly across from Nesta and her family, Rhysand lounging casually in a high backed chair as though it’s a throne. His violet eyes flit around to everyone gathered, straying just a moment too long on the Archerons. Nesta almost thinks she imagines it, the shift in his eyes, dancing across his expression, before his attention turns to picking a piece of lint off his sleeve.

His second and third sit either side of him, the two vampire women completely different. The one sitting on his right has short, black hair, cut in a harsh bob right beneath her chin. Her gaze practically dares anyone to try and say a word to her, not an ounce of shame on her face as she drinks from a goblet filled to the brim with blood. The other woman, sitting on Rhysand’s left, has long, blonde hair running down her shoulders and back, brown eyes bright but no less threatening.

And to the left, taking up the final end of the table, are the wolves. The alpha of their pack, Cassian, sits at the center of their group, the dark curls of his hair pulled away from his face and piled atop his head in a bun. His arms are crossed over his chest, drawing emphasis to the width of his shoulders, the bulge of his arms, the span of his hands that come with being the quite literal top dog.

A man stands just to Cassian’s left, shaggy brown hair falling forward into a pair of brown eyes, and to Cassian’s right sits a woman, dark hair braided down over her shoulder. Surprisingly, her gaze is already pinned on Nesta. Nesta's spine straightens as the woman's eyes sweep up and down over her frame, and she can do nothing but watch as the woman leans over, clearly talking about her as she speaks quietly to Cassian.

Whatever is said, it has the alpha's eyes snapping to Nesta too, the hazel of them burning golden beneath the candlelight. For a moment, the breath hitches in Nesta's throat, having that attention solely on her. She wonders if he can hear it, the way her heartbeat starts to thud a bit quicker, wonders if he can see the way her pulse flutters in her neck, with those keen wolf senses. But Nesta refuses to back down. She raises her chin that little bit higher, daring to look down her nose at him.

“Elinor,” Rhysand breaks the silence, drawing the attention back to him.

“Rhysand,” Elinor offers back, her tone cold and face neutral.

“We all know why this meeting was called. The Cauldron is missing.”

“It was stolen,” Elinor corrects, her blue eyes narrowing across the table.

“Right from under your nose, it seems,” Eris sneers, earning a snicker from one of his brothers.

Elinor’s attention snaps to her right, and Nesta shifts uneasily as magic starts to spark at her mother’s fingertips. “If you’re going to accuse me of something, then do it.”

The atmosphere in the room turns tense and stifling, as though all of the air has been sucked out. It claws at the back of Nesta’s throat, scraping across her skin. Everyone around the tables seems to be holding their breath, seems to be bracing for the worst. Nesta swears she sees the vampires’ lips part, a hint of fangs peeking through. Swears she sees claws beginning to extend from the wolves’ fingers. It has her instinctively and protectively moving closer to her sisters.

“I’m merely commenting on the fact that the Cauldron was under your family’s protection, and yet you didn’t know it was even gone until the next morning,” Eris offers idly, arching a single, red eyebrow.

“I’ve warned you all for months about the threat Hybern poses, that their King’s strength is in spellwork, and now, suddenly, you’re all surprised? Questioning it?”

“No one is questioning or accusing anyone,” Rhysand cuts in, ever the placating host. “But Elinor, we all remember the Archeron’s reticence to the Accords, your family’s hesitance to sign the Treaty.”

Elinor scoffs at the vampire’s words, but it takes all of Nesta’s willpower to swallow down her wince. She still remembers overhearing her mother’s and grandmother’s words when she was a girl. Her grandmother's sharp, cutting words toward the vampires and wolves, at the idea of having any sort of Accords with them. The agreement from both matriarchs that working with the other factions was beneath the purity and power of the Archeron line. The criticism that the Accords makes their family weaker, not stronger.

“You’re right that Hybern is a threat,” Rhysand continues, his violet eyes dancing around to the others at the table before cutting back to Elinor. “But if we want to stand any chance against their King, if we want to find and return the Cauldron, it has to be together.”

“So what? You called a meeting just to scrutinize and ensure my dedication to the Accords?” Elinor asks, her tone derisive and mocking. “Was your spy not able to glean enough information? Where is your Shadowsinger hiding, anyways?”

“He’s not relevant right now,” Rhysand fires back, his own tone beginning to dip with annoyance.

“Honestly, Elinor. Your mocking questions aren’t helping your case here,” Eris adds, the frown tugging down his lips betraying the bored tone of his voice.

Elinor rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’d be more than happy to prove my family’s commitment if that’s what you’re after.”

“How?” Cassian speaks up to ask, his first words all night.

Nesta swears she sees the flicker of a smirk twitch up her mother’s lips, but as soon as she sees it, it vanishes like a trick of the candlelight. Elinor settles back in her chair, stretching her arms out either side of her.

“My daughters,” she answers the alpha’s question simply. “What better way to demonstrate than to offer a blessed union with each of them.”

“You can’t be serious,” Eris comments, something like surprised laughter coloring his voice.

���You all know how powerful my daughters are. You can’t deny that such unions would strengthen your own factions and strengthen the Accords.”

“You’d really force your daughters into marriages? Just like that?” Cassian asks.

“Force? My daughters would be more than happy to further solidify this alliance between us all. In fact, I’ll even let them choose.” Elinor turns over her shoulder, meeting Nesta’s gaze, but Nesta is all too familiar with that look, the fake smile and cold, burning eyes. “Nesta. You’re the eldest.”

Nesta’s entire chest feels tight, dark claws sinking into her lungs until she has to force air in and out. How long had their mother been planning this? Was this what she meant when she explained how important the night would be? No wonder she’d taken the time earlier to make sure all her daughters were in their best dresses, to ensure that Feyre swallowed down her defiance and kept her mouth shut. And now here they all stood, perfect little future wives on full display.

But what happens if she denies her mother’s suggestion, if she says no? Would the other factions oust the Archerons from the Accords? Loath as she is to admit it, Nesta knows that Rhysand is right. The only way they can defeat the King of Hybern and his magic and troops is as a unified front. Her family, her sisters, will only be vulnerable without the Accords. And the Mother only knows what Hybern would do if he got his hands on three of them.

This is the only solution. No question of if, but merely a question of who.

Nesta feels Elain practically shaking like a leaf beside her. Perhaps, she can have it so Elain ends up with the Vanserras. Ever since the accident and Beron’s death, there have been less stories of cruelty being whispered, and going from one coven to another, being around other witches, might be easier for her sister.

Nesta chances an accessing glance toward Feyre, but she finds her youngest sister already in some sort of glaring match with Rhysand. It seems the turn in conversation has solidly piqued the vampire leader’s interest and even more so, drawn his interest toward the youngest Archeron. But Feyre looks to be seconds away from slipping a shoe off her foot and throwing it at Rhysand’s head. It’s clear Nesta’s sister can hold her own, but that just leaves…

The wolves.

Swallowing hard, Nesta turns her full attention toward Cassian, refusing to balk as she meets his hazel gaze head on. “It would be an honor to join your pack.”

~ * * * ~

Cassian

Cassian sighs, pacing once more across the length of the room and digging his fingers up and through his hair. He still can’t quite wrap his mind around the events of the night, everything that’s happened. Every attempt to sort through it all feels like moving through a thick forest on a new moon’s night, like trying to navigate around trunks and brambles in shadowy darkness.

Ever since he’d heard the news of the Cauldron being stolen, he’s had his suspicions, his theories. Hell, there had always been something that hadn’t sat right with him, something that made his inner wolf’s hackles rise, even if he wasn’t confident whether it was merely witches or the Archerons specifically that stoked his wariness. And he’d known the Accords meeting was going to be a disaster, but he’d never expected this outcome, couldn’t have predicted how the meeting ended.

Marriage.

Of course, Rhys had all but jumped at the suggestion. Even Eris had agreed; although, he’d decided it would be his brother rather than the witch himself that would marry the middle Archeron daughter. Cassian still isn’t sure what Elinor Archeron gets out of this. Why she would suggest this or why her daughters would agree. He especially doesn’t understand why the eldest daughter would choose him and his wolves.

Cassian sighs again, pausing his pacing and settling his hands against the table, leaning heavily against his palms. “That had to be the stupidest decision that counsel has ever come to.”

“Hybern is a threat,” Baz reminds him, leaning casually back in his chair, feet propped up on the table. “A very real threat. And now their King has the Cauldron.”

“And this is the answer?”

“We all know the prophecy. ‘The gods will bow before the strength of three,’” Emerie offers from her own seat. “Having one of the Archeron sisters forever linked to the Pack might just be our best defense against whatever is coming.”

“And she’s the eldest too,” Baz adds. “We all know the eldest wolves tend to be the strongest. Perhaps it’s the same with witches.”

Cassian wants to laugh, shaking his head with a quiet huff. “A witch in our Pack…”

The notion feels absurd. Just speaking the words aloud has Cassian feeling like he’s stepped into another reality, an upside down world. He’s heard the demeaning whispers, seen the scornful looks, through the years. Since he rose through the ranks and took over as alpha, and even before then too. The comments, the pretentious expressions, they colored his childhood just as much as they trail and haunt him now.

It’s clear how everyone else views the wolves. They don’t have the money and wealth that comes from centuries of living like the vampires. They don’t have the power that comes from the magic pulsing through the witches veins like a raging, stormy sea. They have the strength everyone seems to want when conflicts arise, but nothing more. They’re the bastards of the factions. They’re expendable. Nothing but grunts and brutes.

“This really is a terrible idea,” Cassian mutters, pushing up to his full height again and rubbing a hand along his jaw.

“At least it’s the hot sister that wants to marry you,” Emerie comments, her brown eyes practically glinting in amusement as she smirks at him.

Cassian knows she’s just trying to lighten the mood, the remark drawing an easy laugh out of Baz, but Cassian still rolls his eyes and shakes his head. His second had made a similar observation at the meeting when the Archerons had first arrived, and though Cassian will never admit it aloud, he couldn’t deny it then and he can’t deny it now.

Witch or not, Nesta Archeron is one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen.

Her face was all high cheekbones and cutting lines. She had her hair pulled up into an intricate braid style at the meeting, but the strands had still glinted like burnished gold under the candlelight, and Cassian had certainly been curious how it might look tumbling down along her back. How it might look threaded between his fingers. She’d held her shoulders back and her head high, a haughty witch certainly, but a warrior in her own right too, armor firmly in place and daring anyone to go toe to toe with her.

And her eyes. They’d been a stormy blue-gray, a fire burning within them as she met his gaze head on, as she refused to back down or look away. Something had sparked within Cassian then. Something had sat up and demanded attention, whispering and goading in the back of his mind.

“Perhaps, you should marry her instead then,” Cassian says, clearing his mind of the memory and offering Emerie a teasing smirk of his own.

“I’m sure Cresseida will appreciate us getting another wife,” Emerie drawls dryly with a roll of her eyes.

Baz chuckles quietly. “And a witch too.”

Emerie hums, shrugging her shoulders, but then her face turns serious again. “Rhysand and his vampires and the Vanserras have already agreed.”

“That doesn’t mean we automatically have to agree too,” Baz points out, turning his attention fully back to Cassian. “It’s ultimately your decision what we do.”

Cassian knows that they’re right. He knows that he could reject this proposition if he wants. But he also knows the prophecy, knows the stories that the Archeron witches are descended from the Mother herself. If Hybern and the threat their King poses is on the horizon, then how can Cassian deny giving the Pack the best fighting chance? He swore to always put them first, to always protect them.

Even if that means putting his own feelings aside.

Even if that means letting a witch into the ranks.

“Well, then… I guess I’m getting married.”

—

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[bomberqueen17]

kitchen status

ok well. so. we're at the point now where the countertop guy (his name was Ken and he had a cool laser thing and confessed he often enjoys playing with people's cats with the laser thing when nobody's paying attention; alas our cat is not home and missed her chance) has come and measured, and now the countertops are due on January 4th.

Today the electricians are finishing the installation of all the outlets and such, which is exciting.

My mother advised me that the one thing she regrets about her kitchen remodel of, gosh more than ten years ago now, is that she didn't immediately install shelf liners. So I am going to do that. A cursory websearch told me that you can in fact make your own from fabric, but I think I am going to mostly buy premade ones, since they're not very expensive and I want this to get done.

BUT I do have a lazy-susan corner cabinet that's got these big round shelves that the liners won't easily fit, so I am going to make my own slightly-padded lil quilted guys to go on those, I think that's the most expedient thing. i intend to fill that cabinet with my saucepans and baking dishes, so it doesn't need to be spillproof and grippy and all that.

ANYWAY the next thing I need to think about is COLORS. I found a bunch of my notes from when we first started thinking about remodeling the kitchen and my big conclusion was "i don't want gray! i don't want a kitchen all in shades of gray!" and guess what my new kitchen is all shades of gray. BUT. that's because I realized that getting brightly colored cabinets would lock me into one color. Like blue-- a lot of bright blue options in cabinets or countertops exist, but then you're locked into that specific shade of blue. And what if the cool accessories you wanted don't coordinate? No.

So I figure, i will pick ONE very bold color, and will paint the east wall around the window, the window trim, and the west wall and entryway that color, and then perhaps a secondary bold color will be what the dishes, spoon rest, and other replaceable accessories will be in. (I think some floor rugs too, at least in a couple high-traffic areas.)

But I need help choosing colors, so please do weigh in.

The kitchen is all in shades of gray with both warm and cool tones. The floor is grayish-mottled faux stone vinyl with a kind of warm cast. The cabinets are warm wood washed blue, which comes out to a fairly cool grayish color. The countertop will be a mottled mostly-white quartz composite. The backsplash will be (boring, I know, I know) white subway tiles.

The neighboring room, the living room, which the kitchen is now wide open to, is bright, saturated buttercup yellow, with royal purple trim. (The bedroom is deep royal purple with bright scarlet trim.)

I don't like pastels or desaturated colors. The colors I prefer are primary or secondary colors in jewel tones.

So I'm currently considering cobalt blue, emerald green, pthlao green, deep teal, mermaid blue, royal purple, or bright crimson as my main color, with the smaller secondary color being either goldenrod yellow, bright scarlet, bright orange, bright turquoise, or metallic gold.

My everyday china is in the classic Blue Willow pattern, and a few of the pieces are mended with gold kintsugi from the time period in which Dude was into doing that. We also have some CalamityWare because his sister bought us a bunch of that-- and that includes some soft furnishings, a pair of kitchen towels and a hot dish mitt and an apron and such.

Middle-Little advised me that the Pantone color of the year is "Peachfuzz(TM)" and that a pale peach or bright coral would be great colors for the kitchen, and she is correct, but that is not in the slightest bit to my personal taste so I won't be doing that. Alas. She's super correct though. But I have discovered I am allergic to those types of colors. What category is that? I don't know but I know my answer is No. And I feel like anything on-trend will soon be dated. (Also, and I do know this by chance, the Pantone Color Of The Year for like 2018 was a coral color, and like, why. Why do they keep coming back to this.)

I don't know what that means but that's my story and I'm sticking to it, LOL.

[morbidology]

Laurie Dann's upbringing in an affluent Chicago suburb appeared unremarkable at first glance. However, beneath her seemingly normal exterior lay a complex and troubled individual. 

Known for her insecurities, Laurie resorted to plastic surgery at a young age in an attempt to alter her appearance. Although she attended the University of Arizona for some time, she never completed her degree. It was during her stint as a cocktail waitress at Green Acres Country Club that she crossed paths with Russell Dann, scion of a wealthy family. The pair became inseparable, eventually marrying in September 1982 and fulfilling Laurie's lifelong dream of residing in a grand mansion.

Yet, as their relationship progressed, Russell began to notice increasingly odd behaviors from his wife. Laurie's idiosyncrasies included storing makeup in the microwave, randomly tossing money into her car's backseat, and putting away wet clothes. Her eccentricities gradually worsened, leading to her complete withdrawal from the outside world. She refused to leave the house and neglected basic household chores. 

The once-promising marriage reached a calamitous climax in September 1986 when Russell awoke to the searing pain of an ice pick stabbing him. Convinced Laurie was his assailant, he promptly alerted the police. Adding weight to his claim, a store clerk testified that Laurie had recently purchased an ice pick. However, as Russell had not witnessed the attack while he slept, the charges against Laurie were eventually dropped. The couple divorced shortly thereafter. During the divorce proceedings, Laurie's ex-boyfriend from five years prior became the target of threatening phone calls in which she falsely claimed to be pregnant with his child. The harassment ceased only when her ex-boyfriend's lawyer intervened and contacted her parents.

Following her departure from the marital home, Laurie attempted to pursue a career as a babysitter. However, her venture quickly soured as she faced accusations of theft and vandalism, including slashing furniture, rugs, and curtains in clients' homes. With this business idea in ruins, she sought refuge in a dormitory on a college campus. Unfortunately, her stay there was also fraught with erratic behavior. Laurie hid rotting meat inside furniture and deposited trash in other students' rooms. 

Seeking a fresh start, she moved to another dorm in Madison, Wisconsin, where her presence earned her the nickname "elevator lady." Witness accounts painted a disturbing picture of Laurie aimlessly riding the elevator for hours on end. She continued her pattern of leaving decomposing meat around the building and even startled onlookers by appearing naked in communal areas. Just one month after her arrival, a dorm room was set ablaze. Although suspicions were raised about Laurie's involvement, no concrete evidence was found, and she was never charged.

By this point, Laurie's mental state had deteriorated to a point of no return. Tragically, appropriate professional intervention was never sought. After threatening a fellow student and slashing his clothing, Laurie turned to a more sinister act. She baked buns laced with arsenic and distributed them to various fraternity houses and local residences. 

In a separate incident, she attempted to take two children from a former babysitting client to a fair, but fortunately, the children refused to consume the poisoned milk she offered them. The diluted arsenic in the treats she had distributed caused no harm. Laurie's descent into chaos continued as she tried to set fire to a nearby daycare center before returning to the home of her former clients and setting it ablaze. The family managed to escape through a broken window just in time. 

Unfazed, Laurie proceeded to Hubbard Woods Elementary School armed with two handguns. Upon entering the building, she opened fire indiscriminately, killing 8-year-old Nicholas Corwin and critically injuring five others. After shedding her blood-soaked shorts and improvising a makeshift bag around her waist, Laurie fled the school. Her escape came to an abrupt end when she crashed her car into a tree. 

Seeking refuge, she broke into the home of Ruth and Phillip Andrews, holding the terrified family hostage for six harrowing hours. Laurie claimed she had killed her rapist and was now evading the police. In a desperate struggle, Phillip managed to wrestle the gun away from her, sustaining a gunshot wound to his chest in the process. Despite his injury, he staggered into the garden while his family sought safety. Alone in the Andrews' residence, Laurie turned the gun on herself, ending her tumultuous life.