half my bones in city streets.

"some days i feel everything, others are numbing. can never find an in between, it's all or nothing. i never, never, never said that i wanted. i never, never, never, never said that i wanted. never wanted to be here now, one foot in the grave other on the ground. i can't process what i'm feeling now, this skin i could do without.

[nofckingfighting]

[katie-mcgrath]

[wildhcartcd]

closed starter for erica wright. ( @creatvresoftheniight​ )

When did habits become traditions? 

When did a person become more of a comfort than an acquaintance?

Who was he to know the answers to such things? Who was he to allow anyone or any thing to be something he couldn’t stand to imagine not having? Human, Bran reasoned, he was simply a man-- as weak to comfort and vices as any other and for the last two years perhaps his most reliable comfort and most outrageous vice had been the company of one Erica Wright. It wasn’t as though he took any pleasure in cutting himself off from the world— he had no great love for solitude or desire to be alone for the rest of his life but he was equally aware that relationships in his life and in his world were currency more often than they were genuine. It was something he had come to accept long before he had had any relationship at all that allowed him to feel any differently and whether Erica made him feel any such thing was inconsequential in the face of what little comfort he had been capable of offering her during the length of their friendship.

It was routine now-- reflex, even-- for him to settle down at a booth near the front windows of the pub-- busying himself with rolling cigarettes or reviewing accounts or reading while he waited for the woman in question to arrive; at which point he would quietly draw the blinds of each window, lock the front door behind her and lead her into the back office he found to be the most comfortable space in the pub to spend time in whenever he was able. It was remarkably easy to settle down in the plush chair behind his desk-- his fingers drifting to unbutton his shirt where it brushed against his throat and busy himself with pouring them tea or something stronger given what it seemed Erica might need during any given visit.

His eyes drifted over her with all the languid ease familiarity had given him— an admiration in the action that he rarely gave voice to but felt deeply nonetheless. “Tea?” A dark eyebrow rose in time with the question, the motion the only expression his features bore other than a quiet contentment that he had few words for but knew he could not contain or suppress. “Or something stronger? You don’t look as if you’ve had a particularly rough day...” He trailed off, reaching behind his ear to retrieve the cigarette he’d tucked there-- rolling it between his fingers before he glanced at Erica again, a smirk having curled at the edge of his mouth in the mean time. “But we both know that when you tell me whether I’ve gotten that right you mustn’t lie, princess-- or how in the world would I be able to help you?” There was mirth in his gaze now-- a genuine, easy affection even in the teasing lilt of his voice-- their game sparking to life quickly, as it often did, and sending Bran’s every nerve towards a bright liveliness he had long since accepted he craved.

[wildhcartcd]

closed starter for brooke wheeler. ( @starry-nxghtss​ )

It was exceptionally quiet.

It was a thought that had flickered to life somewhere in the back of Bran’s mind no less than four or five times since he’d opened The Bunker that morning— perhaps more so around the moment he’d shrugged off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves and taken to smoking as he read first the day’s newspaper and eventually a novel he’d read about a thousand times. Patrons trickled in here and there and where the slowness of the day might have bothered anyone else Bran found a certain peace in it— Windham wasn’t anything like Birmingham had been by any stretch of the imagination but that was the point, wasn’t it? It was a world away and Bran quite preferred that-- his reputation in Windham was beginning to precede him, all of his ventures were going well and every day he wasn’t reminded of his former life was a day he appreciated.

Sharp blue eyes rose languidly at the sound of the bell above the door ringing brightly and Bran continued to occupy himself with the task of lighting a cigarette, exhaling the smoke as he tucked his lighter into one of his vest pockets and quietly studied the woman who’d strolled into his pub. There was recognition in his expression-- faint though it was-- the way he had come to feel about those denizens of Windham who had the pleasure of sharing ties with him in name alone thanks to the alliances that seemed to divide the town more thoroughly than any mechanism Bran had ever been privy to. “Evening,” Bran said, the low, easy greeting accompanied by a quirk at the edge of his lips that was perhaps as close to a smile as he felt the need to be in that moment. “Are you looking for a drink, then? Or is there something else that’s drawn you to my little slice of paradise?”

[wildhcartcd]

&&. parker renfroe tag dump !

[wildhcartcd]

&&. bran caldwell tag dump !

[wildhcartcd]

creatvresoftheniight·:

**//

Windham was a whole lot bigger than she’d expected it to be.

That said, it was no Seattle. Drew doubted she’d get so royally lost here as she had back home when she’d set out for an interview in Ballard; all it’d taken was a small crowd to distract her from catching the correct streetcar and she’d ended up in North Beach, effectively ruining any small, minuscule chance she’d had of securing that job offer. Nicholas and Marianne Barrett had berated her for the better part of an hour when she’d gotten home that evening, and they’d continued to mention over and over again for the next few months how her carelessness had cost her one of the better jobs she’d been invited to interview for– how she was missing out on the most important things in life due to her own apparent unwillingness to make an effort.

She probably shouldn’t have found it as funny as she did to look back on the experience armed with what she now knew. She’d been a nervous wreck over the loss– the significance of which was easily dwarfed by the terrifying fact that werewolves, vampires and witches were all very real. Amusing hindsight aside, Drew Barrett was all too aware of the fact that she had stumbled headfirst into the supernatural world thanks in part to her inability to quell her curiosity, and it’d become quickly clear that for all of her determination in figuring out the truth, she’d been ill-prepared to deal with it.

Casey had been incredibly helpful in that respect– teaching her how to deal with it. Between lending her reading material on the specifics of magic and being patient enough to answer her barrage of panicked questions at most hours of the day, her cousin had taken everything in stride and played the part of wonderful host and inadvertent mentor to the much younger woman. She still needed to figure out a way to properly thank him for all he’d done thus far, and what he’d likely do for her in the future– it definitely wasn’t much, but making a point of picking up some coffee in order to drop it off at his workplace for him seemed like a good start.

And that had been her intention when she’d stepped out of the house that morning; after exploring the town for a few hours, she’d visit a particular café at which she’d managed to land a job– which she was due to start soon –through pure dumb luck, and then she’d head over to Casey. It seemed easy enough– seemed as though it’d be impossible to get turned around or lose her way, but while she’d been right about not getting as lost as she had in North Beach Drew’s sense of direction was abysmal at the best of times, leading to the woman taking a wrong turn down the wrong street and ending up walking along a strip of stores she didn’t at all recognise.

From what she’d heard, the town seemed to be split off into several smaller areas– Casey’d definitely mentioned something about various factions and groups, a conflict, but all the different names had been cause enough for Drew’s head to start spinning; it all felt like she was catching up on overdue homework for a class she hadn’t been aware she should have attended until the very last term. With what she had been able to retain, however, she was able to glean that she’d ended up in Blackstone territory. Not that she altogether understood what that truly meant.

Any and all other thoughts directed toward the mystery of the importance of the Blackstones in her mind were put on hold almost immediately following her rather impressive deduction, as she found herself nearly bowled over by an enormous and fluffy dog that seemed as though he should have answered to the name ‘Jason Eaton’– which was a wonderfully absurd thing to note as she lost her footing thanks to the force of the canine hitting her shins and landed unceremoniously on her backside. “Oh my god,” Drew squeaked out, more out of shock than anything else, hands already reaching to pet the large dog who seemed intent on covering her entirely in slobber, “Aren’t you adorable, huh? Came over to say hi? Yeah?”

The surprise at being knocked on her ass passed fairly quickly and was soon replaced with Drew’s normal demeanour (slightly nervous, always pleasant) as the dog was firmly tugged back out of her lap, giving her enough space to struggle to her feet and address her saviour. “Oh, it’s okay, really! He’s just excitable, that’s all, and I’m– I’m alright,” Taking in the sight of the other woman, she made a point of offering her a warm smile whilst readjusting her now-rumpled jacket, “And really, it’s hardly the worst thing that could be happening to me right now, to be getting tackled by a huge, gorgeous dog. What was– um. Maybe I, heard you wrong, but I thought I heard you call him Jason? Or, Jason Eaton is more accurately what I heard, but you sounded a little like an exasperated parent saying that, so I figure it’s safe to say that’s his full name– if that is what he’s called.”

She hadn’t realised until she’d finished speaking just how hot her cheeks had become– it was because she was rambling, she quickly assumed, at which point she cleared her throat and began to idly twiddle her thumbs with her gaze dropping from the other woman’s face to the ground before darting halfway up again and landing on the dog. “He’s real cute,” Drew then blurted out unthinkingly, delayed confusion subsequently hitting her over the mention of girls being ‘fit’– she knew it was a British slang term but what it actually meant, she couldn’t recall. “Maybe he just really likes… fit girls? Everyone’s got preferences.”

***

It had been a surprise to absolutely no one when - at the tender age of eleven - Percy had announced to her adopted parents that she was ‘really quite certain she fancied girls’ which had earned a great deal of amusement from the Eatons in response to the furrowed brow and deep pout their daughter had sported during the entirety of her explanation-- one that they accepted readily and without extensive comment, though Percy had been immensely embarrassed the moment her mother made an off-hand comment that they would have to research some things to give her a proper talk on all things related to sexual health when she was of age. 

As a ( rather well-adjusted ) woman twenty-eight years of age Percy was very, very aware of what it felt like to be immediately attracted to a woman given that it wasn’t something that happened to her rarely. In truth, it was quite common-- she was a people-person at her core and physical attraction was rather easy to develop in a general sense-- perhaps more so when she was so willing to lean into any bit of interest she had in people the moment she had it.

Her immediate impression that the woman in front of her was physically cute was only being compounded by the second by the fact that she was perhaps the most genuinely adorable person Percy could remember interacting with in quite some time and the delighted, dimpled smile that found its way to the blonde’s face as she listened patiently was one she doubted she’d have been able to contain. “Cute,” Percy clarified after a moment, “Or hot-- hot, maybe, is what works best if I have to do a--” She paused to make a brief, vague gesture that might have been meant to convey comparing something, “-- A direct translation or something. It’s an old habit, really-- I’ve only been in the States a few months so the slang’s not really adjusting yet. But! Everyone does have their preferences and this giant doofus shares his mum’s so you can imagine how much trouble we get into.”

Jason’s head tilted sideways briefly as Percy gestured towards him and she couldn’t help but smirk in her dog’s direction in the same moment that Piper began to creep that much closer to their new and adorable friend, sniffing curiously at Drew’s shoes before she sat in front of the other woman-- clearly hoping for attention.

“Shite, you asked his name, right? It is Jason-- mine’s Percy. Percy Eaton-- hence, you know, the full naming an’ all but it isn’t my fault he responds to my parent voice. It’s worked for us his whole life. That little angel trying to give you what I imagine is her best literal example of puppy dog eyes is Piper— she’s a sweetheart. Bit of a sucker for attention but aren’t we all?” Talking was never something Percy had demonstrated any trouble with— even as a child she’d been bright and friendly and those facets of her personality had only become more apparent as she’d gotten older. 

She imagined the fact that she was a professor now-- of all things-- had only made it that much easier for her to happily chat up anyone and everyone she met without any issue whatsoever. Her brothers had always described her demeanor as ‘sunshine-y’ and she was more or less inclined to agree with that assessment-- happily so, really, it was far better than being grumpy or withdrawn when there were so many beautiful things and beautiful experiences the world had to offer her if she were willing to take advantage of the opportunities that presented them. “You swear you’re alright? I know you’ve said as much but he’s not exactly small in the grand scheme of things and I don’t think he ever got the memo that he can easily knock someone my size over. I should know-- he does it daily and we’ve only just gotten a bit better with it between the two of us.” She reached down to scratch behind Jason’s ears affectionately, her attention returning to Drew in short order with hardly a moments hesitation.

“Not that I have any room to talk but-- are you new around here? To town or-- this bit of it, I suppose-- I mean this in the absolute nicest way possible but you look a bit lost, love. Or maybe the uh, dog leaping out at you part of your day wasn’t something you planned for,” Percy paused for a moment to flash Drew a wink, the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth making her look altogether more rakish than many of her other smiles. “I’m finding it quite lucky I’ve run into you but if I’ve gone and traumatized you now I think that would break my heart a bit. Were you looking for some place in particular?”   

[wildhcartcd]

closed starter for aliza kahill. ( @starry-nxghtss​ )

It was something of a creeping annoyance that over the course of the last month he’d been in town Pietro had begun to miss the comfort of company— annoyance was too kind a word for it, really. It was the slightest bit infuriating but he was aware that for all of the frustration he felt every moment he found himself alive ( as alive as a vampire could feel, of course ) without Niccolo-- there was still a large part of him that craved the feeling of being connected to people again. Platonic, romantic-- the labels were of little importance to him when things were said and done-- he simply wanted to carve out a space in the world he would fit comfortably in and Windham had seemed to be as good a place to take steps towards that as any. It would have helped, he mused, if he could have generated any reaction to being out in public among new people that wasn’t a fierce scowl and general disposition that likely drove people away before he had even half a chance to speak to them.

He was working on that. Slowly, by every measure he could imagine, but he was certainly working on it.

He exhaled slowly through his nose as he stretched in his seat-- the paperback cradled in his hands creaking lightly around the binding as he held it open again to read, sharp blue eyes scanning the area around him quickly and thoroughly-- a habit he likely would never shake as long as he lived. The café was filling up far more quickly than he’d imagined it would but there was no tension in him as he continued to read— he was perhaps the most comfortable with anonymity and there was something rather enjoyable about being one person in a sea of people without being pestered during that length of time. Of course-- solitude was the exact state of being he was attempting to break away from and when he caught sight of a shadow lingering at the empty seat across from him at the small table Pietro hazarded a glance upwards to find a woman much younger than any he’d interacted with in some time standing there. “Did you need something?” He asked, his voice rough and quiet before he softened a fraction. She’s just a girl, he scolded himself, behave. “Would you like to sit, piccola? It would appear everywhere else is full. I can promise I do not bite. We do not even have to speak if you’d prefer -- I will continue with my book.” He gestured briefly towards the unoccupied seat and allowed her a moment to decide, his gaze returning towards the novel in his hand smoothly.

[wildhcartcd]

closed starter for nicole andrews. ( @starry-nxghtss​ )

Bars were, by and large, some of Percy’s favorite places— the atmosphere, when it was good, was enough to brighten all of the parts of her that craved social interaction more than just about anything and it wasn’t remotely surprising to her when she found herself playing pool at The Bite after she’d spent the entire day cooped up in her apartment researching. Even the crack of the cue ball as they played was enough to bring a smile to her face-- that and the sight of the eight ball slipping seamlessly into a corner pocket-- prompting a cheer from the Brit and a groan from one of the local men she often played with when they were there together. “Oh, tough go, mate,” Percy announced with a laugh, leaning against her pool cue with a broad grin. “I did try to tell ya you’d be walking away from the table a little lighter-- it’s not my fault you didn’t believe me,” She teased, huffing out a laugh as Declan continued to grumble good-naturedly before he passed a ten dollar bill into her hand with a promise to play later in the week.

With her night’s winnings tucked into the front pocket of her jeans Percy made her way to the bar with her seemingly ever-present smile a fixture on her face as she slipped between two bar stools to order a beer-- her eyes flickering towards a woman occupying one of the stools a few patrons down. The blonde worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a fraction of a second before she rocked up on her toes to request that whatever the beautiful, unfamiliar woman was drinking be paid for whenever she wanted another drink. She debated leaving it at that for the time being as she received her beer but impulse control had never been her strongest suit and the moment she could move away from the bar she found herself approaching the woman-- flashing a brief glance at the empty stool at the woman’s side before she cleared her throat. “This one taken? I’ll fight someone to the death for the honor of sittin’ next to the prettiest girl in this bar tonight if it is,” Percy drawled playfully, her nose wrinkling slightly as she smiled. “No worries if you’re not in the mood for company, as well, I can take a hint just fine-- you know, for the record.”

[wildhcartcd]

closed starter for drew barrett. ( @creatvresoftheniight​ )

Restlessness was something Percy imagined might as well have been etched into her very bones for as often as it dictated the things she chose to do in life in both inconsequential and deeply impactful ways. It was an intimately familiar feeling and one that she met without any surprise whatsoever when she stepped into her apartment after a nearly three hour drive back to Windham from the city-- where she’d spent the better part of the day hanging out with a few of the big cats who called the Central Park Zoo home. It had been a wonderful day and Percy was delighted to have taken the day to do it-- even with the exhaustion she felt as she greeted her dogs she could still feel the restlessness in her that came with the knowledge that she hadn’t quite wrapped up her daily routine. No, she was sure she would feel that nagging prick somewhere in the back of her mind until she finished walking the dogs and returned home for what she imagined would be a perfectly thrilling late afternoon of knitting.

It was either a testament to how well-behaved they were or how firm she was when she was the slightest bit tired but she managed to wrangle Jason and Piper into their harnesses with relative ease and very little chasing them through the finite space of her apartment. “Missed me, did you?” She teased them in the same bright, high voice she spoke to them with most days-- the tone of voice that made their tails wag in unison as she grinned down at them for a moment longer, finally turning on her heel to leave when Jason began to shift in place as though he were considering jumping on her in earnest-- which, considering how large he was would likely find her on the floor at the mercy of excited dog kisses.

Though she hadn’t lived in Windham more than a few months Percy had grown to appreciate the beauty of the place due in part to what a contrast it was to Blackpool, where she’d grown up. A seaside town was quite a world away from a town surrounded by woods thicker than any she’d seen prior to beginning her work as a zoologist in earnest and she found herself remarkably at home in Windham and the surrounding areas. It was that much more room for her to satisfy the restless urges that seemed content to make her feel as though she had to be going at least one hundred miles an hour at all times. What her subconscious thought was going to happen if she took a wee break was beyond her but she’d never allowed herself to pause long enough to question it and she wasn’t about to start in the middle of an afternoon walk. A sharp bark drew her from her thoughts in the same moment Jason jerked hard on his harness and succeeded in pulling it from her hand entirely, leaving the blonde to watch with rising panic as the Bernese Mountain Dog all but charged a woman in front of her with his tail furiously wagging.

“Jason Eaton!” Percy’s voice was perhaps a bit higher than she’d intended for it to be as she jogged to catch up with her dog-- Piper following obediently at her side as though it was simply a completely normal thing for her ‘brother’ to be doing. “I’m so sorry,” She blurted as she reached them, tugging Jason away as gently as she could with a stern glare that softened the moment he sat at her feet and she turned her attention to the poor woman he’d likely put the fear of God into. “Fuck me,” She muttered under her breath, green eyes wide for a moment at the abrupt thought that the woman in front of her was really far too cute to be real-- a thought Percy casted away quickly and fiercely. “You’re alright, yeah? The big lug’s just trying to love on everyone in sight these days-- I keep trying to tell him we can’t just run up on girls because they’re fit-- but does he listen? Not even a little.” Her smile was easy and warm as she spoke and Percy, as she often did, was perfectly happy to roll with the circumstances being presented to her in that moment-- especially if they allowed her to meet someone new-- said new person’s genuine cuteness notwithstanding.

[wildhcartcd]

&&. pietro moresini tag dump !

[wildhcartcd]

&&. percy eaton tag dump !

[wildhcartcd]

creatvresoftheniight·:

**//

There was something so strangely charming and comforting about the image of George Avery trying to speak to her with his mouth as densely packed with food as it was, and she rather thought that her instinctual reaction of widening her eyes, scrunching her nose up in concerned confusion and letting out a short burst of surprised laughter had been more than appropriate. “I’m sorry– what? Did you just– what was that? Jesus Christ, George,” The giggles didn’t stop, Erica only able to briefly put on the goofiest voice she could think of, repeating what she’d been able to make out and causing herself to laugh hard enough to tip to the right, leaning into the much larger man’s frame for support. “You wanna– oh, my god. Wanna try that again? Preferably without any food in the way of your teeth and tongue, then I can try and give you an equally clear answer.”

It still felt strange, to be able to spend as much time as she currently did with George, and it was stranger still to actively take advantage of that. It was something she could never complain about, and something she had come to value far more in the last few months than she had as a teenager– but even the abundantly positive feelings surrounding their recovered friendship could not erase the fact that below the surface, their relationship was a very confusing one. Outside forces and their own reckless decisions only served to add complications and levels to their bond that truly did not need to exist. Levi’s death and Erica’s subsequent guilt over her lack of action. Natallia’s intentional reignition of the war and the strain it had put on the pair. Their thinly-veiled mutual feelings for one another, their shows of affection and their having sex. George’s strange confession of love and Erica’s equally odd and mounting suspicion that she felt the same– which was a whole other can of worms that at times she wished she could discard as a momentary lapse in their collective judgement. However, there was no way to un-ring any bells, they’d both said what they’d said and done what they’d done; the best the she-wolf could do was to compartmentalise all of those feelings and actions for another time (a ‘far off in the future’ time, preferably) and allow their friendship to exist in the same hypothetical realm as Schrödinger’s cat: it was both irreversibly changed and completely untouched by what all they’d been through in the last year or so.

Even still she couldn’t help feeling a glimmer of selfishness for wanting George to remain her friend as badly as she did. But there was far too much that Erica knew she’d be too afraid to lose if they continued to force themselves toward romance, and only romance. That, and the thought of the derisive sneers and dirty looks they both received for being as close as they already were, were enough to qualm any wistful desires that were wont to take hold of her mind.

Exhaling slowly as she made herself comfortable in her new position against the other Alpha’s shoulder, blue eyes darted skyward in an effort to lock onto his while a playful grin stretched across her face. “While I may not know… well, much of anything about construction beyond the phrase ‘breaking ground’, I can be excited about these things. Granted, it is just me getting excited because you’re getting excited, but– I’m still participating. How soon is soon?”

As she finished speaking, a frown settled onto her features at the sound of rhythmic snuffling nearby, her gaze shifting to her feet– at which point she bolted upright with all of the speed she could muster in order to grab her food off of the coffee table, narrowly saving it from the very curious nose of George’s dog. “Piper!” she squeaked out, sounding uncharacteristically exasperated for the generally unflappable woman, “No– no. It’s not for you, baby. I know it smells delicious, but it’s not– no.” Just about able to resist Piper’s soft huff Erica then allowed herself to relax back against the couch, returning her attention to the man beside her. “You two seem strangely hell-bent on concerning me, today,” she couldn’t help but joke while absently poking at the bottom of her takeout box with her chopsticks, “I hope you know that if I end up going grey any time soon, it will be mostly your fault.”

...

If there was one thing in the world George had always appreciated about himself it was his innate ability to make the people around him laugh— whether he was doing it intentionally or accidentally made no difference to him whatsoever. The knowledge that Erica was laughing at him to some extent wasn’t enough to keep the grin that sparked to life on his face from fading or going anywhere at all as he listened to her laugh and imitate him, of all things; as though they were teenagers again, sneaking out to the Loser’s Clubhouse during their lunch break at school just to carve out time for each other in some way or another. It was remarkably intimate in a way George hadn’t recognized he’d needed until it was happening; it was far easier for them to be friends-- and for the time being, far more comfortable. He knew how to do a great many things in life with the utmost confidence and being friends with Erica Wright was a skill he hoped never to lose as long as they both lived. “I dunno...” George replied slowly, drawing out the final word as an expression of deep thought settled on his features again. “I think it sounded alright with all the noodles in my mouth. Did it not, though? Damn. Once upon a time I really had that down, didn’t I? I’ve lost my edge,” He continued, a forlorn sigh making his chest heave visibly for as dramatic as he allowed it to be.

Outside of his home George was expected to be a leader— to be stoic and firm and have an answer to every question in the known universe-- even those no one had thought to ask prior to his having to answer them. He grappled with his choices day in and day out-- felt hopeless and useless and unprepared for his role at least twenty times on any given day. But within his home and especially within his home and with Erica at his side, he could relax. He could be goofy in a way he almost never allowed himself to be-- he could make jokes and laugh and generally feel like the world wasn’t doing its level best to tear him apart at the seams. It was a comfort he found difficult to feel even around his siblings in spite of how much he loved them and how much they loved him in return. But he felt that comfort deeply around Erica and he always had— it was part of what had always made their friendship so important to him and it was a relief, really, to know that time and circumstance hadn’t taken that away from them.

“I said,” George began emphatically, “Did you get the texts I sent you the other day? I drew out some floorplan sketches. Areas you might like space for and stuff like we have at our compound now. We don’t have to do anything with them but I don’t ever really think there’s anything wrong with having options before we actually start building anything,” He explained, gesturing with one hand as he spoke and gently nudging Piper away from the coffee table every time he caught her creeping towards it-- much to his dog’s perpetual displeasure. “I should have all of the permits squared away in about a week, so... week and a half? Maybe two? I just have to finish getting my guys together for the job and then we can get started. So... I guess soon is a couple weeks if that sounds alright to you, boss,” He finished, grinning crookedly as he stuffed another bite of noodles into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

He regretted his timing for a fraction of a second as Erica sprang up out of her seat and he nearly choked on his food as he laughed outright, struggling to swallow and reaching for the bag of treats he had hidden in a cubby near the couch for this specific situation. He swallowed the rest of his food and tried to contain his laughter as he held up one of the treats for Piper to see and smiled as she approached him, her tail wagging eagerly. “Okay, Pipes-- let’s do it,” George announced, waiting for a moment until Piper’s tail stopped wagging. “Sit,” He commanded firmly, watching Piper follow the command quickly-- ordering her to shake and lie down in short order and providing her with the treat and a series of soft scratches and cooing assurances that she was the best girl before she retreated to her bed with her bone and a sense of contentment. George returned his attention to Erica and smiled broadly, “I can’t remember the last time I heard your voice get that high,” He teased, “That was really impressive. You gonna try out for the opera now? Should Pipes try to steal more of your food so you can practice?”

His eyes were bright with amusement as he spoke-- enjoying the fact that Erica was comfortable enough to tease him and joke with him and neither of them had to be worried about anything at all. His shoulders rose briefly in a shrug as he adopted an unruffled expression, “It’s a cross I’m willing to bear,” He replied airily, “But I feel like you won’t ever go grey. Just out of sheer stubbornness-- the grey hair’ll try to come in and you’ll just make it stop on command. I’m already going grey and we see how that’s going for me.” He nudged Erica briefly with his shoulder before he gestured towards the rather obvious patches of salt and pepper hair around his temples-- likely from stress but equally likely from the fact that they were simply getting older whether any of them wanted to admit to it or not. “You’re gonna be one of those few people who look good no matter what, though. I definitely know that. With or without grey hair you’ll be outshining all of us forever.”

[wildhcartcd]

creatvresoftheniight​:

morrigan + jules. ( @wildhcartcd​. )

Jules visiting Morrigan at work should not have been as much of a surprise as it was for the witch and really, she should have been expecting this return to form sooner rather than later. Though she couldn’t pin exactly when, at some point in their friendship the pair had settled into a comfortable routine of sharing what time they could spare around their lunch breaks together during the week, spending nearly all of it griping about their respective issues with their jobs and shooting silly looks at Gale when he could stand to participate or listen in on their conversations. Morrigan would always say that she was entirely convinced that Julie had it much worse than she ever would (how could one compare a theatre teacher’s woes to that of a surgical intern’s?) and she’d state as much too before barreling into her fifty third recount of her stint in the hospital when she’d been a child and how terribly awful she’d acted toward the staff; she’d always end the story by declaring that she’d promised never to act quite so insufferably again, and by that very same evening she’d have broken that vow.

Jules never seemed to mind, however, and perhaps that was why Morrigan looked forward to their discussions the way that she did.

Well. Not quite. To say that she ‘looked forward’ to any time she could spend with Jules Wright was a gross understatement at best. One she’d come to terms with a long while ago and one she’d become (for the most part) particularly good at playing down. No one else needed to know about the way Morrigan’s chest liked to collapse in on itself when she caught the barest glimpse of the youngest Wright, nor the way her skin seared to life at an accidental brush of the hand. No one else needed to know, though the witch so very badly worried that they would each time she smiled too wide in Julie’s presence or laughed too hard at one of her jokes or stared too long at the dimples carved into her cheeks. With that in mind there was no reason today would be any different.

Though she’d never say so Morrigan Flores still found herself shocked to see the she-wolf so readily out and about in public, specifically braving the Thunderdome that was the high school she worked at, given the ordeal she’d been through in the last seven months or so. Jules, Gale, Marlo and the uncle to the Wrights, whose name repeatedly slipped her mind, had been through it and had been gone long enough for the witch to start fearing the worst though she’d made a stubborn point of not allowing anyone else to see just how distressed the kidnappings had made her. The Averys and the Wrights had suffered more than she ever could have, no matter how close she claimed to be to two of the victims in particular. As a result, she’d told exactly no one about the flashes of dream and reality alike that had filtered into her mind whilst she had slept, quietly cursing her still juvenile psychic abilities each morning afterward. She’d done just the same when she’d accidentally made contact, brief though it had been, with Gale, both unable to provide any useful information and unsure if it had even been real or simply her own subconscious showing her what she had most wanted to see.

Her fruitless attempts to make the connection again had been convincing enough for the witch to accept that it had been the latter.

She supposed none of that really mattered now, with Jules standing in front of her, alive, breathing, and looking as unfairly perfect as all the Wright siblings tended to. “Julie,” she managed to force out after realising that she’d possibly let her stare linger a moment too long, voice soft and playful in contrast to the rough yells that travelled through the halls into the empty classroom they were standing in– and to the rather harsh giggles that came from the doorway. The witch immediately sighed at the sound and fixed her sternest gaze on the younger faces that poked in through the doorway. While she certainly wasn’t the most intimidating creature, Morrigan had managed to pick up a few tricks here and there, and her stare had become intense enough to cause the three girls to shrink back slightly. “Emily, Nicole, and Harper. Why am I not surprised?”

Another giggle bounced off of the walls, before Nicole spoke, and the other two, emboldened, chimed in as well:

“We’re going to class, Miss Flores, promise!”

“Yeah! We just wanted to say hi, is all.”

“Right, we’re definitely going. We’ll say hi to Mr. Beringer and Mr. Wri–” At that point, Harper made sure to roughly elbow Emily in the stomach, effectively silencing her while Morrigan resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well, I don’t imagine Mr. Beringer much likes his students being late, and I don’t imagine any of you can afford to take your time getting there without a hall pass. All three of you, go. Quickly, or you’ll end up with a week’s detention.”

Enthusiastic nods were traded, though Nicole couldn’t seem to hold back one last remark, glancing over at Jules and grinning slyly: “Have a good afternoon, Miss Flores.” And then they were gone, their laughter echoing.

Morrigan was fairly sure she’d never blushed as hard as she did following that comment.

Clearing her throat and anxiously reaching a hand up to card through her hair, the witch slipped out of her teacher persona, trying very hard to seem as unperturbed by her students taking every available opportunity they had to mess with her in regards to Jules as she assumed the Wright wolf would be. How they’d managed to figure it out, she’d never know. It wasn’t as if she’d been public about her affections for the other woman. Had she? No, surely not. No one else seemed to know and if they did, they hadn’t said anything. “Sorry. They’re still less than pleased to be back at school. I’m sure you remember what it was like for us.” Morrigan did her best to appear unaffected and cool as she sauntered around to lean on her elbows against the desk in the front of the classroom, lightly tapping the toe of her shoe against the carpeted floor as she drew in another breath to speak.

“Can’t say I was expecting a visit today. Missed me something fierce, did you?” It certainly wasn’t helping, the way she encouraged herself by engaging in strange, quasi-flirting, but it seemed like the only safe option. Too serious and she’d lose her mind, the dam would break and she would let all of her feelings spill out. Too casual and she’d lose it just the same, going mad in forgoing the closeness with Jules she so treasured. The in-between was hardly much better, mind, but it worked for the time being.

Deep down Morrigan knew there’d always be a small part of her that longed for the day when the other’d freely say that yes, she had missed her, and mean in the way the witch wished she would. It was the sort of silly fantasy she found herself entertaining when the nights got quiet and her phone would light up with a text from the she-wolf; those were the moments when she felt so painfully certain that what she wanted was more real than it seemed, that she wasn’t imagining things and Jules had been staring back, she had meant to brush her fingers over the small of her back, and her racing thoughts hadn’t been unfounded. It all seemed to make such perfect sense in her head.

Except, of course, for the glaring fact that Gale would sooner eat glass than allow his best friend to corrupt his little sister.

And Gods knew it hurt to admit but frankly, Morrigan agreed with him.

...

Seven months. 

Seven months could feel like an eternity— it was a quiet fact of the universe that Yuliya Wright had gone to great lengths to burn into the very fiber of her being. Seven months since she’d been taken; seven months since she’d come undone in ways she was certain she still would not and could not understand; seven months since every wild part of her had been preyed upon in ways she’d never imagined they could be. Seven months since the ache of her restless wolf in her bones had sent terror through her-- seven months since she had collapsed in on herself into a private, dark corner of her own mind to push away everything that was and now everything that had happened to her. She had been home now longer than she had been away after she’d been taken but she still felt untethered-- still felt restlessness in her soul that she couldn’t quell; still made her way through most of her days feeling as though she were simply floating outside of her own body and nothing that was happening to her was of her own making. She woke most mornings on the tail end of nightmares she knew-- in all of her most logical places-- were simply memories she couldn’t bring herself to relive in broad daylight.

It was a nightmare that had woken her that morning but she had rolled out of bed-- bleary-eyed and stressed but willing to tackle her day with more vigor than she’d felt in weeks. Why it couldn’t have happened on a day she had to work was very much beyond her but it was only a short leap in her thoughts that brought her to the conclusion she would visit Morrigan on her lunch to give herself something to look forward to for the day. Though Jules had no way of expressing it-- words had always failed her in ways she despised quite wholly-- she felt so much about so very many things and the moment she tried to voice them-- to allow them to settle into the world and become tangible-- she seemed to forget how to speak at all. It was beginning to grate at her nerves, to be frank, how much the mere thought of the witch could brighten the dark places in her soul-- how the shadows seemed so much less terrifying with Morrigan near her. She felt all of it with her every breath-- with every second spent in the witch’s presence and she had yet to voice even a single word that could express a fraction of her affection for Morrigan Flores.

Pathetic, perhaps, was the proper description for pining after her brother’s best friend. Ridiculous, perhaps, was the word she could apply to it most readily but for all of her faults-- for all of the things Jules understood about and disliked about herself-- her ability to love people fiercely had never been one of those things. She had reason to apologize for a great many things in her life but the people who grew to be important to her-- the people who held bits of her heart in their hands whether they were aware of it or not-- she would never allow herself to apologize for that.

Nor would she allow herself to apologize for the fact that stepping foot onto the high school’s property sent a jolt of excitement curling languidly up her spine simply for the sheer fact that she would find Morrigan there. She couldn’t recall ever having been so excited to be anywhere near a school of any sort— she had always been a brilliant student but schooling was certainly not where her passions were by any stretch of the imagination. She stepped through the throngs of students on their way to their classes or lunch breaks-- fighting an urge to jog outright with a quiet reminder that she was very aware of what it meant to be fucking normal for a fraction of a second and sprinting to Morrigan’s classroom was about as far on the wrong side of normal as she could get in that moment. It was something of a relief to find Morrigan’s classroom free of students as she slipped inside-- a greeting searing itself against the back of her tongue only to be stymied by both the presence of Morrigan’s students behind her and the sound of her name on Morrigan’s lips.

For all of the ways Jules’ anxiety made it difficult for her to get through a great many things in her life it had never impacted her ability to observe and understand the people around her; though she felt a soft static buzzing at the base of her skull at every one of the implications Morrigan’s students teasing her about Jules’ presence in her classroom she wasn’t so far distracted that she didn’t recognize the flush in Morrigan’s cheeks. Nor was she unaware of the way it made the soft smile on her own features deepen-- dimpled and crooked and altogether pleased in a way she couldn’t quite suppress. “High school was a lot easier than like, real life— but I remember,” Jules replied softly, the dimple in her cheek deepening as her smile widened and she flashed Morrigan a wink in a burst of courage she wasn’t certain she could replicate. “I’d have been way more excited to come to class if our teachers looked like you, though. Shame, huh?”

Her desire to flirt was one that came easily in ordinary conversation— it was one of the many ways she’d learned to connect with people-- or perhaps it was the easiest because it was usually something that so rarely went beyond a surface level and that had always felt, in the grand scheme of things, rather safe for Jules. It had never been that simple where Morrigan was concerned-- so few things were simple for her where Morrigan was concerned-- but she always caught herself flirting with the other woman, regardless. As though it would guide Morrigan towards the understanding that Jules’ feelings for the witch were far more expansive than she could even name and their flirtatious banter was the smallest possible sample of that she could offer up to the world without feeling overwhelmed.

Her eyes cut towards Morrigan in an instant at the sound of the question and not for the first time Jules contemplated being anything but completely honest in response and found that the mere thought of trying to conceal her feelings was one that left a sour taste in her mouth she was deeply displeased with. “I always miss you,” She said after a moment, slim shoulders rising towards her ears in a shrug as she reached for the hem of her sweater and focused on unraveling a thread there as a blush spread over her face in short order. “I have the day off and I didn’t have any plans, so... y’know. I figured crashing my favorite girl’s lunch hour would be a decent plan for my afternoon,” She continued, meeting Morrigan’s gaze steadily as she smiled again. “So, if you’re not terribly busy at the moment-- would you like to get something to eat with me, moye serdtse?”

[wildhcartcd]

closed starter for lex gallagher. ( @creatvresoftheniight​ )

Loneliness was a feeling Ashton had etched into her bones by her own volition when she was a teenager-- when her childhood home had become an empty, gaping reminder that she no longer had a family-- that she no longer had a center or an anchor to keep herself tethered to everything she considered important in her life. It was as easy to her as breathing to force herself into self-imposed isolation and it was a tactic she had used often and to great effect even after she’d made the move to Windham. It was a tactic that, by all accounts, had been thoroughly stymied by the present of Lex Gallagher in her life-- someone who Ash could hardly stand to be away from for any degree of time-- something that was becoming as soothing as it was maddening to the young hunter.

She had already been aware that her visits to The Bite in general were born more from a desire to be around Lex than anything else but that had begun more and more apparent to her as time went on. A part of her-- an endlessly insecure, violently pessimistic part of her-- had wondered for perhaps longer than she should have whether Lex only found her presence agreeable when they were in the confines of the bar. It was a slightly ridiculous notion on the face of things but Ash wasn’t always the most capable of logic in the face of things or people that made her nervous and Lex had a tendency to make her feel entirely undone that she had yet to know what to do with.

It was likely what had possessed her to ask Lex if she wanted to spend an afternoon with her at her apartment— a decision that she had spent the next three hours having a small panic attack about but she hadn’t cancelled after Lex had agreed. It was how she’d found herself curled up on the couch in her front room reading a comic book volume she’d been meaning to catch up on for the better part of a month. Her heart leaped hard in her chest at the sound of a knock at the front door and she exhaled slowly as she slipped off of the couch-- lingering at the front door with her fingers hovering over the doorknob for far longer than felt entirely appropriate. “Get your shit together, Barlow,” Ashton murmured under her breath, answering the door with a shy, crooked smile. “Hey, babe. I feel like this is kind of a milestone, huh? I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you in like, afternoon light. You look just as cute as always-- if it helps.”

[wildhcartcd]

closed starter for erica wright. ( @creatvresoftheniight​ )

In the months since Natallia Wright had been taken-- rather unceremoniously, by all accounts-- from the perch of Alpha for the wolves who called the Wright pack their own-- George’s relationship with Erica had begun to shift in many quiet, borderline imperceptible ways. 

They had spent more time together in the last few months than they had in the last several years— for perhaps the first time in his life ( though he was sure Erica would argue the point if he brought it up ) he felt that he was bringing something useful to their relationship. His experience as Alpha had allowed him the unique honor of guiding Erica through the ins and outs of building a fledgling pack and all of the nuances and pitfalls that could follow such an endeavor. He was certain he wasn’t an expert on the subject in any concrete way but it had allowed them to have ordinary conversations-- to be friends in a way they hadn’t allowed themselves to be since they were teenagers. It was freeing in a way George hadn’t been entirely prepared for-- his affection for Erica had not eased or abated in the slightest but perhaps for the first time in his adulthood it wasn’t quite so painful to be near her. In some small, quiet part of his heart he had realized over the last few months that he enjoyed knowing Erica Wright was perhaps his best friend in the world more than he felt he had to think about the fact that he was genuinely in love with her.

Their friendship was-- and perhaps always would be-- one of the most important things in his life and George was determined in more ways than he could readily fathom-- to cultivate it and nourish it in every way possible.

If there was one thing he was going to appreciate about things calming down in town to any degree it was going to be the fact that he’d be able to spend time with Erica in public without having to be scolded or derided for it. “Hey-- did you have a chance to look at the sketches I texted you the other day?” His mouth was full of Chinese food and he felt the slightest bit stupid for it as he glanced up at Erica from his position on the couch in his living room-- it was, he thought, a small blessing that he’d made the choice to get an apartment away from the compound when he was in his twenties and had kept it since then. He paused for a moment to finish his food-- flashing Erica a warm, lopsided smile as he did, “I got the confirmation a few days ago that we’ll be able to break ground on the new compound soon. Which is probably only exciting when you do this stuff for a living but I’m pretty excited about it.”

[wildhcartcd]

Text → Maxlotte

Charlotte: Mama Faulkner

Charlotte: Whenever they say "God didn't give with both hands" clearly never met you.

Charlotte: You're adorable. The whole lot.

Charlotte: Please do. I got yanked into a mud puddle and I'm all gross now.

Max: You're too good to me, baby. ♥

Max: The kiddos miss you but they'll chill when I throw their toy around a little with 'em.

Max: How 'bout I draw you up a bath? Or get the shower going when you get closer to home. Whichever you want.

Max: I'll tell the whole Order you need a break if I have to, I'm not scared of them.