#trenonny

[kedreeva]

So this may be a dumb question, but do your peafowl have different voices? Like can you distinguish Orion's squawks from Stan's? Just curious :)

They do! Stan’s call is a lot higher pitched than Orion’s because he is so much smaller. Most of the others I tend to tell by when they are doing it and how, rather than an actual pitch. If it’s the middle of the day in pen 3, it’s almost certainly Eclipse. 3am for no apparent goddamn reason? it’s aris or aurora, probably aris.

[wellhalesbells]

trenonny replied to your post “Rules: answer these questions and tag five other fic writers to do the...”

There's monsters at home is one of my all time favorite fics. I'm so glad you wrote it! Gonna have to give it a reread sometime soon <3

😭😭😭😭😭thank you so much!!  it is still so freaking cool to see how much love it’s gotten considering its sole purpose was just to be ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING I WANTED AND LOVED in one place. 💖

[mad-madam-m]

trenonny replied to your post “Me coming back from hiatus like”

OMG I want to read all your Tiger and Bunny fic! Go Go you wonderful writer you!

GLAD TO HEAR IT because in addition to the two FTH fics which somehow BOTH turned out to be Tiger & Bunny, I have two other T&B fics in the editing stages, two in the brainstorming/drafting stages, and a Discord server chock-full of enablers.

[eternalsterekrecs]

Looking for a soulmate fic, because one detail is stuck in my brain: the word 'soulmate' shows up on a water bottle during a press conference. That's literally the only thing I remember about the story aside from the fact that it was a sterek fic, but it's kinda driving me nuts that I can't remember anything else. Pretty sure it was a fun fic, you know? Anyway, any help is appreciated. Y'all are awesome :)

We never read a soulmate fic like this. Any help dear followers?

[kazliin]

Just reread a couple of my favorite bits of OBSaBH (the Moscow chapters always wreck me in the best ways, and I sometimes like to wallow in Victor's panic over the crash because I'm a bit twisted), and was so happily entertained. It was a great part of my morning, so I thought I'd say thanks again. Hope your winter is going well. :)

Thank you, I hope yours is too anon! And the Moscow chapters were my favourite to write so I love to hear that you’re re-reading them again!!

[coyotequeens]

Just saw your follow up post about wanting prompts via ask so here ya go. :) Hitchhiker AU wherein either Derek or Stiles is hitchhiking but werewolves are still a thing. (Honestly though, I look forward to whatever you may find interesting enough to write about. Have fun writing!) <3

Hi guys, so sorry for the delay! I’ve been moving and having to deal with all the chaos that comes along with it! Things are finally starting to settle down, so I’m hoping to have more time to write in the coming weeks. Anywho, this one is not about hitchhiking because I misremembered the prompt, but it’s based on a story I read on a creepy AskReddit thread + fic idea @blacktofade​ and I talked about weeks ago. (Also broke the “less than 1000 words” rule; this one is 1568 words.)

Stiles is lost. He suspects it happened at that weird six-way intersection, when he should have taken the slight right instead of straight through, but that was miles back, and he’s gotten so turned around that he couldn’t find his way back even if he wanted to - which he does but can’t, because he’s so far out in the middle of nowhere that his phone can’t find a signal, and the ancient GPS he digs out of the back sternly tells him that its maps are more than five years out of date and refuses to let him use it until he updates it.

So he’s well and truly lost. He just keeps driving, because he’s at least got most of a tank of gas left, and the roads are in pretty good condition, so he’s gotta hit a town sometime. The sun is beginning to set, but even if he has to sleep in his car overnight, he’s not worried - he’s got snacks, and a jug of water.

It’s only when he begins to wind his way up a mountain that he begins to feel a little anxious. No one would have taken the time to carve a road up the side of a mountain if there wasn’t something worthwhile on the other side, he tells himself. This isn’t some dirt track; there are guard rails on the sharp curves, and the lines look recently painted. Still, he doesn’t see a single car on the way up, and there’s hardly any shoulder - the trees press close to the edge of the road, forming dark arches overhead. It’s a lot darker with the forest around him, red light from the setting sun filtering through the branches.

It feels like hours before Stiles crests the mountain and begins heading back down the other side, but he’s flooded with relief at the sight of lights twinkling in the valley below - sweet civilization. Now he relaxes as he drives, safe in the knowledge that he’ll be able to figure out where he is soon, maybe get a call in to his dad before he starts worrying about not having heard from him. Stiles’ dad wasn’t entirely happy with Stiles’ brilliant idea of driving across the country to come home for his summer break, but everything considered, it’s been a smooth trip so far. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten lost on this trip, although it’s certainly the longest he’s been off-course, but hey, the end’s in sight - even with this detour, he should be home by tomorrow night at the latest.

The descent into the valley is slower than the ascension; this side of the mountain is steeper, resulting in long downhill stretches followed by sharp hairpin turns as the road carves its way downward. Stiles loses sight of the lights below through the thickening trees, but he’s not worried now he knows they’re there. The sun is almost gone by now, so he drives even slower, worried about coming around one of the curves and finding an animal in the road; he vaguely remembers someone telling him once that deer are most active at sunrise and sunset. This caution is why he’s able to stop in time when he takes one of the hairpin turns and there’s a man standing in the middle of the road.

After slamming to a halt, all Stiles can do for a moment is stare in shock, his heart hammering at the near miss. The man’s just standing there with his back to Stiles; he hasn’t moved a muscle, even with the front of jeep stopped a bare fifteen feet from him. Stiles quickly moves from shock to anger - what is this dude’s issue and why the hell is he just standing in the middle of the road? - and he’s about to roll down the wind and yell at the man to get the fuck out of his way when the man moves, turning to look at Stiles, and his face is fucked. It’s not - it’s not human; he’s got this insane brow ridge, and there are fangs in his mouth, and his fucking eyes are glowing blue.

“What the fuck,” Stiles hisses. He’s completely frozen - until the man takes a step toward the jeep, and then his brain goes NO NO NO and he jerks the wheel to the side and slams on the gas, leaping past the man.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” he chants, clutching at the wheel to keep his hands from shaking. That was - that was a dream, right? He glances in the rearview mirror, and the man is gone, which...he doesn’t know if that’s better or worse. It turns out it’s worse, definitely, because there’s movement to his left and when Stiles turns his head, the man’s running alongside his car. This man - this thing - is keeping pace with him, and Stiles is going at least forty miles an hour now. “Fuck,” Stiles moans, and he speeds up, but the fucking thing speeds up too, and he - it - grins at Stiles, like it’s having fun. Like it knows just how fucking freaked out he is right now.

And then, another hairpin curve in the road, and Stiles brakes hard, but he’s going too fast heading into it; he goes wide and the edge of the road sucks at his tires, yanking him off the asphalt before he has time to correct. The world starts blipping by in fast vignettes after that: the trees turning sideways; the night sky overhead, still tinged pink from the sun; the windshield spider-webbing. He’s jolted forward and sideways and finally smacks his head against something - the window, the steering wheel - and the world goes dark.

When he opens his eyes again, Stiles’ whole body hurts, but his head hurts most of all. He’s sideways in the jeep, the ground against the driver’s side window, and Stiles’ first instinct - once his head stops spinning - is to unbuckle himself and reach for the passenger door - but then he freezes. He remembers the man chasing him and he thinks: where did it go? Is it out there in the woods somewhere? Is it coming for him? All he’s got in the jeep are a bunch of clothes and books - he’s got nothing to protect himself with.

Stiles crouches there for ages, listening to the forest. The jeep makes its own noises - a hissing that fades, sharp plinking as metal cools - but the woods are silent. All he can see now is a thin swathe of trees in front of the jeep, barely lit by the one headlight that doesn’t seem to be broken. Nothing moves out there, but what if the thing’s waiting for him to make the first move? He manages to find his phone, but there’s still no cell reception out here. His palms are sweaty. What’s he supposed to do?

Finally, maybe fifteen minutes later, maybe fifteen years, lights swipe over the trees, and he hears footsteps in the brush coming toward him. Stiles tenses as a voice calls, “Hey, you all right in there?” He hesitates to respond; what if it’s the thing? What if it’s a trick?

A pair of legs step into the light from the jeep, and then a man crouches down to peer through the windshield at Stiles, and his face is blessedly normal - handsome, even, if Stiles were in any state to make a pass at strangers right now. “Hey,” the man says again. “You okay? Can you get out of there?”

“I - yeah,” Stiles breathes, and he manages to haul himself out of the passenger side door, though his head protests the movement with violent throbbing. The man’s there to help him down the other side, his hands strong and steady. Stiles feels like the world’s spinning around him.

“I saw your tail lights from the road,” the man says. He puts a hand under Stiles’ elbow and starts steering him toward the road.

“Oh,” Stiles says, digging his heels in. “My stuff - my car - ”

“Leave it,” the man says, a little sharply. “These woods aren’t safe at night.”

“No kidding,” Stiles says dazedly, and lets himself be guided through the trees. As they step out onto the pavement, where a sports card sitting running, headlights on, he adds, “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem,” the man says, helping Stiles sit on the hood of the car. “No one should be out here alone.” He goes around to the back of the car and digs around in the trunk for a moment. Ominous, Stiles thinks, and then he thinks about how this is the exact kind of scenario his dad always warned him about, but he can’t even be concerned right down because he was chased off the road by a literal hell beast and anyway, when the man comes back, he’s just got a cloth in his hand, which he carefully presses to Stiles’ temple.

Stiles winces at the sensation and the extra throb of pain it sends jolting down his spine. “Am I bleeding?”

“A little,” the man says. He looks down at Stiles, features sharp in the harsh light of the car’s headlights. “I’m Derek, by the way.”

“Stiles,” he says.

“Stiles,” Derek repeats. He turns his head to look at the forest, and the light from the headlights reflects off his eyes, flat and yellow. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

[kedreeva]

For the kind things game: I make the best peanut brittle that anyone in my family or circle of friends has ever tasted. Every woman in my family cooks or bakes one thing extremely well and finally, in my forties, I have found my 'thing'. :)

A thing, a thing!!! Your thing!!! Good job!! It took me a similarly long time to figure out what to bring to family gatherings (or work gatherings) but now I bring an excellent 7-layer dip!

Pygmy rabbits are native to the US; they weigh less than a pound, and are only about 8 inches long.

(To those reading, while you are still (and always) welcome to send me kind thoughts you have about yourself, I am will not be answering new asks with animal facts)

[mad-madam-m]

trenonny replied to your post: I was curious, will you be opening up prompts...

so many T&B prompts… YAY! :) Hope your writing muses speak to you strongly and soon

My writing muses have basically been speaking only T&B to me for months; it’s a miracle I’ve been able to write anything else.

(Although VLD s6 and the s7 spoilers have done a damn good job of bringing it back to Sheith XD.)