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tumbleweed-writes · 2 months

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Death and the Lady: Chibs Telford X Reader Chapter Two

Chapter one found HERE

CHAPTER TWO: Infatuation

Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home was located in one of the more affluent neighborhoods of Charming, California. Although, this was more due to it being one of the older homes in town than a sign of the actual wealth of the owners of the property.

A golden placard was proudly displayed by the front door declaring that the property had first opened its doors all the way back in 1910, although Y/N’s father would claim that their ancestors had been undertakers for far longer than that.

It had been something he was proud of; the history of their family and their profession. It was a respected profession that had been viewed as more of a service by her father. Lloyd Y/L/N’s father had been an undertaker and his father before that and so on. Generations of sons in Y/N’s family had maintained the family business. It was their legacy. It was a family tradition and tradition was to be upheld according to Y/N’s father.

Now that there were no available sons to take the reins as the town funeral director, Y/N had been left to carry on the family tradition. She was the last undertaker in the Y/L/N line.

Her father had often boasted about the family history. Photos of Y/N’s ancestors lined the small office that was now her own. They were black and white photos featuring her grandfathers before her alongside undertaker carriages and finally old hearses; the family home and business displayed in the background. As soon as photography had become readily available her ancestors had paid a pretty penny to capture the family legacy. There was even a disturbingly large leather bound photo album featuring some memento mori photography mostly featuring Y/N’s ancestors as well as some of the ancestors of many of Charming’s residents.

This photo album, of course, was not something that was proudly displayed like the other family photos though. She was quite certain most of Charming’s residents would be displeased to know her family had long held quite a few photographs of their deceased ancestors after they were post mortem.

The family business had begun during the civil war by one of Y/N’s northern ancestors who took full advantage of the booming business of embalming as dead soldiers needed to be preserved to be sent back home during the war.

After the war had ended and the popularity of embalming had spread her ancestors had kept up the family business.

Y/N’s ancestors had traveled out to California and settled in Charming soon after the town began to develop enough of a population to require the services of an undertaker. They’d remained ever since burying generations of Charming residents. Most residents of Charming had passed through the home more than once. It was a place more than one resident of Charming would find themselves eventually at the end of life.

Although the owners of the old home were far from being as wealthy as their neighbors, the appearance of the home hid this fact well.

It was an impressive home and might even be considered beautiful if one didn’t realize just what kind of establishment it was. The lot was quite large compared to the few homes that stood alongside it. It had seemed that not many people had been fond of developing homes alongside Charming’s oldest funeral home.

The home was a massive white Victorian style structure featuring a long red brick driveway. The windows of the home were a fine looking stained glass featuring a rose-design that had been placed way back when the home was originally built. Lovely red and pink rose bushes and large old oak and maple trees lined the property.

Given that the funeral home served not only as a place of business but a family home, there had even been a glass and iron greenhouse constructed behind the property. The structure that had been built by Y/N’s great great grandmother and was still tended to this day by Y/N herself.

A small pet cemetery sat near the outskirts of the property, another feature that had been added by one of Y/N’s great grandmothers though the small cemetery held mostly family pets; cats, one bloodhound, a few parakeets, even a few goldfish. Y/N could admit that more than one goldfish had been her own childhood pets. When Y/N was a child she’d even been told rumors that there was a horse buried somewhere in the home’s old pet cemetery but she’d not thought that it was likely given her family tended to document every single death both human and pet, and no mention of a horse had ever been recorded.

Needless to say, generations of Y/N’s family had resided in the home and it held a history far beyond just its purpose to the community. It was an eccentric and morbid history, but it was Y/N’s history all the same.

When she’d been a teenager, she had resented the odd macabre history, but as an adult who had entered the family business she found herself holding the same pride for it her father had always held.

The legacy was uncomfortable to most, but it was hers.

Due to the more affluent area and the fine looking home, Chibs Telford couldn’t help but to feel out of place as Jax and he pulled Darby’s stolen SUV discreetly into the driveway.

Chibs hated to admit that he felt an odd mixture of both awe and fear as he stared up at the massive home, a chill running down his spine as he spotted the wooden sign displayed in the yard that proudly stated Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home established 1910.

He suddenly remembered Juice’s words just earlier in the day; Spooky.

He tried to pretend that he didn’t feel a ball of dread developing in his gut as he followed Jax and Juice up the long driveway towards the front door.

He stared at the two panel stained glass front door, his palms growing damp as Jax reached out to ring the doorbell.

The pleasant chime that sounded out didn’t fit what laid inside, in Chibs’ opinion.

Chibs hated to admit that he felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of facing the fascinating young woman he’d met just earlier that day and would be meeting once again very soon.

He’d be lying if he tried to pretend that his brain hadn’t been hyperfocused on her all morning.

She truly did puzzle him. He knew it had to do with more than the fact that Y/N was a gorgeous woman with an odd career. It was the implication of her past and her brazenness when it had come to her establishing that she would be willing to do favors for the SAMCRO in the future for payment of course. He’d been stunned by how willingly she’d been to mouth off to Jax Teller and how comfortable she’d seemed to insist that she would now be the Sons line of contact for future favors regarding anything they may have previously used Skeeter for.

She was ballsy, he had to admit it. It was an admirable trait. Boldness was a sexy trait in a lass, or so Chibs had always believed.

As hard as Chibs tried to deny it, Y/N was a puzzle he wanted desperately to solve. There was something about her that both excited him and confused the hell out of him.

It was a feeling he’d not had in a long while; being fascinated by a woman. His interactions with women for a little over a decade now had consisted of a quick fuck from the croweaters that hung around both SAMBEL and SAMCRO.

A woman had not interested him beyond sex since his estranged wife Fiona.

It was a realization that made him feel unsteady and uncertain. He felt so unlike himself and it was terrifying.

As hard as he wanted to deny it he was interested in Y/N as more than just a fun romp in his bed.

He tried to shove thoughts of Y/N in his bed as the front door opened the very woman he’d been entranced with appearing.

She was no longer dressed in the casual blue jeans, tank top, and converse she’d worn in the crematorium earlier.

She wore a black short sleeved sheath dress that could only be described as professional though it did fit against her form well. He suddenly realized her curves were just as lovely as her legs and he couldn’t help but to find it a shame that such a lovely pair of legs were hidden under a pair of black sheer tights. She wore black mary jane style heels on her feet that were just tall enough to look fashionable but not so unreasonable that she didn’t look professional. Her hair had been pulled back into a french twist and Chibs spotted a pair of small pearl studs in her ears. A small golden cross hung from a thin chain around her neck and it glimmered against the otherwise dark fabric.

She was wearing makeup this time around though it was soft and subdued making her look elegant.

Chibs took notice of her hands. Her short nails were painted a soft pink and her hands looked so delicate. He felt a mixture of emotions wash over him at the sight of such delicate looking hands both picturing them caressing his skin but all too aware that they also often touched the dead. He felt both lust and dread at the thought. The thought made him feel dizzy and he had to briefly wonder if there was something quite wrong with him given that the mix of dread and lust seemed more Tig or Happy the Tacoma Killer territory.

Chibs shoved back the thought trying to pretend that he wasn’t studying her so closely.

If Y/N had noticed that she had an admirer in the Scotsman, she gave no indication she rolling her eyes, a soft huff leaving her. “You’re almost ten minutes late.”

Jax gave her an all too flirty smile quick to reply. “Sorry, you know me. Promptness was never one of my virtues.”

She gave no flirty smile back instead letting out another soft huff. “Hurry up and come in. I don’t need the neighbors gawking.”

Chibs felt a slight frown cross his features both at Jax’s flirty nature and the indication that there were any neighbors close enough to gawk.

The area did seem quite private after all.

He followed his brothers inside Y/N shutting the door behind them.

Chibs studied the large entryway feeling even more out of place. Dark wood floors were covered with fine looking red persian rugs that Chibs was certain must be antiques. He found himself fearing his boots weren’t quite clean enough to cross such fine rugs.

He took notice of a china cabinet against the wall, the antique furniture containing no dishes but a small oil painting featuring lambs, a display of options for funeral pamphlets, and a fake display of garden roses that looked eerily real.

An equally old looking coat rack and soft pink chaise lounge sat near the cabinet. He took notice of the iron light fixtures and tiffany lamps on the ceiling.

It seemed as though the home was filled with antiques that Chibs had to wonder if they were family heirlooms. This was a family business and it didn’t seem like mass produced items that she’d just acquired to make the home seem sophisticated.

He felt his feet move as he followed his brothers further into the home. He spotted more oil paintings, mostly of generic images; flower fields and hints of religious iconography, more lambs and doves.

He widened his eyes as he spotted an oil painting showing the very home they stood in now. Y/N spoke over her shoulder apparently taking notice of his gaze landing upon it. “An addition added by some grandfather who died long before I was a thought. It’s not the only family painting. The more personal ones are upstairs. My ancestors were obsessed…I am unsure if the portraits were narcissism or just male pride….although I might argue that there is little difference between the two.”

The last comment went over Juice’s head but it did put a small smirk on Jax’s lips and did make Chibs twist his lips somewhat amused that she was willing to make a dig towards the male species in front of men who personified masculinity.

He was once again reminded that she was courageous. Not many people would make such a dig in front of bikers who prided themselves in being macho.

“Upstairs?” Juice dared to ask gazing up a grand looking wooden L-shaped stair case it was clear that he felt just as out of place in the home as Chibs though his feelings were more fear filled than his brother’s.

“Yes, living quarters are upstairs…no access to the public of course.” Y/N remarked, shrugging her shoulders.

“You live here?” Juice spat out his eyes growing wide as saucers, his stomach turning at the thought.

Chibs spotted a hint of a smirk on Y/N’s lips; she clearly accustomed to this reaction and obviously enjoying shocking Juice. “I was born and raised here.”

She cleared her throat dread filling her belly despite her cooler demeanor. She’d debated her choice to go along with this as the morning had worn on.

She’d debated giving Jax Teller the money back and backing out of this. She had a distinct feeling there was no backing out of this now. SAMCRO might not take too kindly to her chickening out now even with her history with them.

As terrible as she felt, the greed within her heart told her that the envelope of cash that now resided upstairs hidden in a jewelry box in her bedroom was far too precious to part with.

She knew that she’d dug her grave by agreeing to any of this, and now she had no choice but to lie in it.

She ignored the voice that told her that her father would be ashamed. She felt a bitter voice remark that she was in this debt due to him after all. Working with SAMCRO was a means to an end. The money would do her favors and keep the family business her father so prided himself in up and running.

She spoke again, finding it easier to speak about the home than focus on her guilt and fear. “The home has been operational since 1910, though the family has been in the business far longer than that. I’m sure my family has buried members of every resident in Charming’s family. My family has resided here since the home was built. A lot of the town grew around us. Things changed as time wore on but we remained. We’ve always tended to the dead of Charming. Pretty sure a few of my ancestors were born and died upstairs. My father and mother both died in this home and their funerals were held here.”

Juice cleared his throat muttering something similar to the observation he’d made back at the cemetery this morning. “Spooky.”

Chibs found himself hanging on to her words, the statements fascinating him all the more. There was something about her that seemed far more worldly and elegant than the conversations he usually held with the croweaters back at SAMCRO’s clubhouse.

Sure the choice in conversation was morbid, but the calm and collected way she spoke about it showed a level of comfort with the macabre that spiked Chibs’ curiosity.

Juice’s eyes grew all the wider as they rounded the corner passing what was clearly a few viewing rooms, a room featuring casket and urn displays, a chapel-like space, and a lobby area meant for the bereaved to gather.

They passed her closed office door going down a long hallway that ended with a closed door. The sign outside the door featured a sign with bold letters that stated : ONLY AUTHORIZED PERSONAL PAST THIS POINT.

Y/N spoke over her shoulder a sigh leaving her. “The embalming room is in the basement, body storage is beside it.”

Juice spoke a choked gasp leaving him. “We’re going there?”

She gazed over her shoulder, raising a well manicured brow. “You guys wanted a body…that’s where it is.”

They followed her downstairs, Chibs unable to stop himself from asking. “How do you get the bodies up and down the stairs?”

“The casket lift…it’s essentially an elevator for the dead.” She remarked not bothering to gaze back at him clearly accustomed to the question.

Chibs furrowed his brow both fascinated and disturbed by the concept.

Y/N felt her stomach turn trying to ignore the golden placard her father had installed by the closed door to the embalming room. It clearly stated: REMEMBER, Behind these doors lies the most sacred room in this building. Here loved ones come to be prepared for their final rest. Those who work behind these doors must uphold a commitment to the morals of our profession and a promise to serve the bereaved. Conduct yourself in an appropriate manner consistent with those in this profession.

She felt that sense of horror bubble up deep within her knowing what she was about to do was far from appropriate and respectful for the sacred profession her father was so proud of.

She spoke as she noticed the men beside her also took notice of the placard. “My father and his rules. To be honest he mostly put this sign up as a reminder to one of his old employees…Richardson had a mouth that would make a saint blush. My father wasn’t fond of the F-bombs while embalming.”

She opened the door, the Sons following along behind her the energy in the air tense.

Chibs studied the room unsure of what he’d been expecting. The area seemed so sanitary. The floors were a shiny clean dark tile. Cabinets lined the walls containing a variety of chemicals: formaldehyde, sodium nitrate, methanol, and a few other complicated sounding chemicals that were unfamiliar to the Scotsman.

He suddenly realized that Y/N must be quite intelligent to know just what to do with all these chemicals.

He felt his stomach turn as he eyed two stark white embalming tables both thankfully vacant though he spotted an intense looking machine beside them, it hitting him that it was most likely used to pump the deceased full of embalming fluid and other preservative agents.

He spotted upper cabinets with clear glass doors that were filled with more tools of the trade. He was certain there was more to be seen in a few of the closed drawers in the cabinets.

There was a sink beside one of these cabinets and a few anatomy posters on the wall. He spotted a small radio sitting in the corner of the room as well as a CD player hinting Y/N must listen to music or talk radio while working.

Another thing caught his eye; a heavy looking case sat open on one of the cabinets filled with what seemed to be makeup as well as a few other small devices.

It wasn’t the makeup nor the tools that caught his attention. It was the stickers. The inside of the case and even the outside were lined with stickers, some cutesy, some downright morbid. There was a peace sign and a cartoony looking strawberry. He also spotted a black sticker featuring a hearse that stated: Last Responder. There was also a sticker featuring a cheerful looking cartoon grim reaper that stated: Spoilers, We All Die. There were a few more that seemed to be from some kind of convention for funeral directors, a concept that struck Chibs as bizarre.

The stickers lining the case made the otherwise sterile and cold room seem less intimidating. He was tempted to walk over to the case and study it closer hoping it might reveal more about the woman who he’d found himself fascinated by, but he remained locked in place sure she wouldn’t be amused by the snooping.

She spoke not paying mind to the discomfort of her guests. She almost felt comforted that they felt so out of place. It served them right for what they were making her do. She felt comforted that they were in her space and it gave her at least the appearance of having the upper hand here.

“The body is in storage. Give me a moment.”

Chibs shifted in place his brothers and he silent as Y/N disappeared behind a closed door. He was tempted to follow her; perhaps offer his assistance.

He kept locked in place though almost certain she’d turn down his offer. After all, he was sure she must have gotten the body down here all on her own. So, why would she want his help?

Juice mumbled under his breath. “Fucking hate this.”

Jax shook his head, rolling his eyes slightly. “Just chill. We’re going to be out of here before you know it.”

Chibs smirked, unable to stop himself from prodding Juice. “Ya fraid of the dead lad?...Too many zombie movies? Ya fraid of ghosts or somethin?”

Juice groaned, shaking his head. “This place doesn’t give you the creeps?”

“They’re dead. Don’t think they mean any harm. Y/N seems to be alive an’ well” Chibs remarked, shrugging his shoulders though he did feel a small sense of discomfort.

This entire act was quite blasphemous though he had a feeling this feeling had more to do with his Catholic upbringing than any fear of the dead.

The men didn’t have much longer to discuss the general feeling of discomfort in the room and the act they were engaging in as Y/N reappeared rolling a gurney.

Chibs raised an eyebrow impressed she could manage to roll the heavy looking gurney in heels. He had a feeling it wasn’t an unfamiliar task to her.

She spoke, rolling her eyes not above calling out her companions. “Thanks for the help gentlemen. Such a testament to your gender, making the lady do all the lifting.”

Chibs stepped forward first a small smirk on his lips unable to stop the flirty tone from his voice. “Figured ya had it handled lass. Ya seem the type that doesn’ need a man ta handle yer shite.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow uncertain if he was being sarcastic or if this was a genuine compliment.

The feeling it was the latter did strange things to her heart. She pushed the thought from her mind. Now wasn’t the time to let some biker hit on her no matter how charming the accent might be.

She wasn’t the girl who got weak in the knees over a bad boy in a kutte anymore.

She had to admit that the older Scotsman did hold a certain charm. Sure, the scars along his cheeks were disconcerting. She had a feeling that she should fear the person who might have done this to him though instead of him as the victim of what was clearly a past attack. He seemed somewhat unkempt. His shorter hair could use a good comb and maybe a little wash. He seemed older than her; perhaps in his forties at least.

She’d spotted an intense pair of dark eyes under his shades though that she found to be a lovely rich dark brown that made her think of bittersweet chocolate. She did spot clear dimples that were a lovely feature in an otherwise intimidating looking man. She also noticed a pair of plush lips under a neatly trimmed goatee.

He was an attractive man though older and far rougher than most men who she paid much attention to.

She shook the thought from her mind. She was not paying him any attention. She refused to go down that path.

Jax and Juice took notice of the flirtatious tone to Chibs’ voice but neither man paid too much mind to it. Chibs did have a way of talking to most women like they were a lass after his own heart. He was charming when he really wanted to be.

All three men helped Y/N lift the body, thankfully, contained within a body bag up onto a platform that Chibs realized must be that casket lift Y/N had mentioned earlier.

Y/N spoke a sigh leaving her. “I assume you brought a vehicle to transport this to…whatever the hell it is you want with it.”

Chibs smirked thinking of Darby’s stolen SUV as Jax spoke. “Yep darlin’, we got it covered.”

“Aye, won’t need to borrow a hearse.” Chibs added on.

She rolled her eyes fast to respond, treating the sarcasm as a serious remark on purpose. “I have a body transport van for that…the hearse makes the general public a little queasy.”

Chibs smirked again a bit amused by the quick remark. He had to like this girl the longer he spent around her.

It wasn’t until they were back upstairs at Y/N’s home’s back entrance, it being far more reasonable to sneak the body out this way, that she spoke again. “You swear this shit you guys are about to do won’t lead back to me?”

Jax was fast to reply , reaching out to give Y/N’s hand a squeeze. “I promise you.”

Y/N yanked her hand back, rolling her eyes not interested in accepting any comfort from him especially when her bullshit meter was going off. “I am also assuming you using me to gain access to the crematorium at the cemetery later won’t get me in deep shit?”

Chibs spoke before Jax had a chance to attempt to provide reassurance. “I swear on my ma lass.”

He reached out giving her shoulder a squeeze, almost feeling giddy that she didn’t yank from him the way she did from Jax. “Ya got nothin to worry bout. SAMCRO won’t leave a trace ya had anythin to do with this.”

She raised an eyebrow hesitating moving from his grasp, almost finding it strangely reassuring. She pushed the thought from her mind stepping back from his touch, her voice returning to that calm collected tone she’d taken when she’d first let them in her home. “You guys should go. I am expecting patrons very soon. I highly doubt John Meyer would be too amused to have three members of SAMCRO looming about when he comes to pick out a casket for his grandmother’s funeral.”

Chibs smirked, familiar with the older and snobbish man she was mentioning. He was a well known owner of one of Charming’s more upscale restaurants. She was right he might not be amused to have Charming’s criminal element hanging around in such a situation.

As the men walked away Chibs found himself taking what he hoped was a casual glance behind him at Y/N as she shut the door behind them.

He hated to see her disappear from his sight and was surprised to admit he felt almost excited at the thought of seeing her again at the crematorium.

—--------------------------------

Chibs took a hefty swig of his beer as he sat in the passenger's seat by Jax in Darby’s SUV as it sped along the highway.

Jax spoke nodding to the two dead bodies in the back end of the SUV. “These guys fuckin stink. Y/N must have an iron stomach to handle the stench.”

Chibs smirked, taking a drag of his lit cigarette, his heart fluttering at the mention of her name. “Aye, she mus’.”

He stared at the amber liquid in the bottle of beer in his hand, his mind a mess of questions about the funeral director.

He shifted in his seat thinking back to her interactions with Jax. He had mixed feelings about whatever had happened there.

He was surprised by the hint of jealousy in his gut. A bitter voice in the back of his mind couldn’t help but to snark that Jax wasn’t entirely capable of appreciating an elegant woman like Y/N.

It was clear by her reaction to him that perhaps he’d not appreciated her in the past.

Chibs knew he couldn’t just grill the Sons VP on his history with the woman without it being obvious Chibs had taken a liking to her.

He spoke his voice tight, trying to sound casual and not at all prying. “Ya seem to know tha lass well.”

Jax shrugged his shoulders taking a drag off his own cigarette. “Her brother was in my grade growing up. He was a pretty cool guy until the accident.”

Chibs raised an eyebrow parroting the words curiosity in his voice. “Accident?”

He suddenly remembered Clay’s comment about Y/N’s brother being in the county nuthouse.

“Not my story to tell. Let’s just say it was some tragic shit…really almost wrecked that family. Y/N is still living with the aftermath.” Jax remarked, taking another drag from the cigarette.

Chibs shifted in his seat the comment only making the mystery surrounding Y/N only grow murkier.

He spoke, clearing his throat. “Aye Clay mentioned a hospitalization…guess the lass is his only family”

Jax nodded his head, his eyes keeping focused on the road. “Yeah, I think it was just her, him and her dad. Pretty sure her mom died when she was a kid. She never said much about it. Now it’s just her…or it may as well be given her brother.”

Chibs furrowed his brow, unable to deny that his heart ached at the concept of it just being her.

Chibs cleared his throat taking another drag of his cigarette, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. “She mentioned bein a club hangaround?”

Jax chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, she might of looked like little Miss Prim and Proper today, but she had a wild streak a mile fucking long. At least she did back when she was like nineteen and twenty. She was a lot of fun.”

Chibs furrowed his brow not quite liking the snark in Jax’s voice at the mention of Y/N being so proper. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the mention of her being fun either or at least the implication behind it.

Chibs spoke, clearing his throat voicing a troubling thought. “Lass was a croweater?”

Jax shook his head a snort leaving him. “Not exactly…like I said about her older brother, not my story to tell. Like I said…she hasn’t always been so classy.”

He spoke again gazing at Chibs, a bit surprised the Scot seemed so interested in Y/N. One might think the Scotsman was a little sweet on her.

“She’s a complicated woman.”

Jax noted that the comment earned a raised eyebrow from Chibs it apparently only deepening his apparent interest in Y/N.

The thought puzzled Jax. Chibs didn’t develop schoolboy crushes. After all Chibs had not shown much interest in women other than getting his dick wet with an available croweater. To see him this interested was a foreign concept.

The man was still married after all, at least legally. His estranged wife had not been stateside in some time and she was tied to the man who had scarred Chibs leaving him for dead and banishing him from the cause.

Needless to say, Chibs had a lot of reasons to keep romance at arm's length.

Jax frowned, having to wonder if perhaps Chibs had hopes of getting his dick wet with Y/N. He shook his head, tempted to tell him Y/N would more than likely rid him of his dick if he pulled it with her.

She might look elegant but she didn’t take any bullshit from what Jax remembered. Time may have passed but Jax was certain Y/N was still as prone to calling a guy on his shit as she had been almost ten years prior.

He bit back the warning, deciding it would be Chibs’ lesson to learn. He smirked, having to wonder if the warning would just present itself as more of a temptation to the older man. Some guys liked the challenge.

He continued to study Chibs, the older man taking another swig of his beer, clearly fighting back the desire to pry further.

It was a strange concept. Chibs had a crush? Or at the very least a clear lust?

Jax shook his head, having to wonder if Chibs had any clue just what he might be signing up for if he was in fact sweet on Charming’s local undertaker.

#chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #Chibs Telford x reader

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 1 year

Note

Hi!! First of all thanks for doing god's work! This blog really helped me find some of my favorite fics <3

I was looking for fics where stiles is new to the town. I read Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain and What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm and I'm kinda obsessed with it?

Thanks!

Hey @attentionzero! @kevaaronday found these for you.

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

(1/1 I 35,197 I Teen I Sterek)

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”   

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.   

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:   

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

(4/4 I 118,749 I Explicit I Sterek)

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

***

A Teenage Love Story by HaleHathNoFury (26/26 | 155,834 | Explicit | Sterek)

Stiles is sick and tired of how much he fucks up. His dad is disappointed, his step-mom judges and his step-brother can do no wrong. It's not that he doesn't love them, he just gets so tired of being different. Now he's being moved lock, stock and barrel to Beacon Hills aka the town his mom grew up in so they can go live in his grandma's house and his father can get him back on the straight and narrow.

It's going to suck.

487 by Finduilas (14/14 | 52,840 | Explicit | Sterek) Two years after graduating from the Police Academy, Stiles decides to transfer to the Beacon Hills Police Department, where his father is Chief. But when he gets assigned his new partner, Stiles isn't so sure if the transfer was a good idea. Derek 'Officer Grumpy Cat' Hale isn't exactly his first choice of partner. Then again, Stiles really isn't Derek's first choice either.

Northern Blues by kaistrex (12/12 | 40,682 | Explicit | Sterek) When Stiles steps into the room that the Hale house has conjured for him to stay in, the first thing he sees is a window already open, letting in a pleasant breeze. The second is a door in the right-hand wall.

Laura clears her throat, scratching at her nose. “That leads to Derek’s room.”

Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up and a laugh bursts out before he can stop it. Now he understands how the pack knew this room probably wouldn’t belong to his dad (which, gross).

He looks over his shoulder at Derek who’s glaring pointedly at everything except for Stiles with pink-tipped ears.

“Presumptuous. I like it,” he says to the house, patting one of the walls and throwing a wink at Derek hovering in the doorway.

When the Hale pack transitions to a new Alpha, Stiles is thrilled to be assigned to Beacon Hills to try out as their new Emissary. He and his dad are immediately enamoured with the idyllic little town, fitting right in with the rest of the Hales – except for Derek. The new Alpha shows no signs of welcome, but it will be hard for him to stay stubborn in the face of his family’s encouragement and a sentient house that has plans for the two of them whether Derek likes it or not.

The Wonderful Mess We Made by haleonwheels (12/12 | 34,619 | Explicit | Sterek) Derek is Scott's rude older brother. Scott is Stiles' new best friend. Stiles is in a really hard situation (in more ways than one).

Or the one where Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills from New York City and immediately befriends Scott McHale. Scott tells Stiles he's an only child--except he really, really isn't. So how was Stiles supposed to know Derek From The Jungle is actually Derek McHale, Scott's older brother that he kept secret for a reason?

Not Who You Think I Am by GrimReaperlover11 (17/? | 28,611 | Mature | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski is the new kid at Beacon HIlls HIgh. Derek Hale finds himself wanting to be friends with the new student. however, will these feelings change when Stiles reveals himself to not be exactly who he says he is?

Maidens, Mothers, and Crones, Oh My! By Panicitsamelon (14/? | 22,760 | Teen | Sterek) (aka)

Hunters, Wolves, and Sparks, Oh My!

(aka)

Psychos, Brooders, and Not-Quite-Damsels In Distress, Oh My!

(I could keep going, but I'm gonna stop before it gets worse.)

Stiles Argent lost his mother at a young age. He continued to live with his stepfather, Chris, and eventually stepmother, Victoria, and stepsister, Allison, as they traveled across the country for his stepparent's work.

Everything is normal... until it isn't.

When they move to Beacon Hills, Stiles discovers there are a lot of secrets his family has kept from him, especially about his mother.

Magic? Like more than herbs and manifestation... that shit's real, apparently and Stiles isn't exactly sure why, but his is leading him to people and places all over town. He's just a high school student trying to make friends (and maybe get laid) at his new school. He didn't plan for comatose uncles, scary-hot siblings, and people trying to kill him.

True Love’s Kiss Isn't Always The Cure by nicole135 (19/19 | 22,037 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles isn't normal, well at least on the inside. He's a Spark, a trait he inherited from his late mother; it's something that has run in her family since before her Polish ancestors first inhabited America's soil when America was being colonized. Now when Stiles' father moved to Beacon Hills for the job opening of Sheriff, Stiles follows six months later after spending time learning from his Gran, only to dive head first into the towns deadly secret, one that has affected the town since it was first founded. It's a curse that affects the whole town, and when Stiles finds out, it's the same one his mother told him about in bedtime stories, one that has haunted every generation of his mother's family ever since the curse was cast.

Just A Moment Too Late by gremlins-came-and-got-me (7/7 | 13,164 | Mature | Sterek) Derek Hale is fourteen when he is murdered. Instead of that being the end of his story, he watches life go on for the people of Beacon Hills, until one day he sees a new family move in. Stiles Stilinski doesn't mind Beacon Hills. His dad is the new sheriff, so everyone treats him well. However, Stiles is a detective at heart, and Beacon Hills has a secret: Derek Hale's murder.

Of course, Stiles can't leave well enough alone. He's going to solve Derek's murder if it's the last thing he does.

It just might be.

How are you so bad at this? By thornconnelly (11/ | 6,242 | Gen | Sterek) Stiles moves to Beacon Hills at the start of senior year of high school. Before class even starts, he bumps into a very cute and flirty werewolf who happens to be in almost all of his classes, and who is seemingly TERRIBLE at hiding his werewolfy traits.

Moving to beacon Hills by hufflepuffbaby (1/1 | 1,453 | Gen) Stiles moves to Beacon Hills after his dad is offered the Sheriff's job. He's only been there three days, but he's pretty sure he's already found his best friend.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #magic!stiles #submissions

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swede1952 · 8 months

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Morning catch, 20230920

Here is a scarlet tanager (Piranga olivacea), female I think, on her way to South America, I'm sure. She was hanging around in an oak tree beyond my fence. This is the first time to photograph one of these, maybe I'll see a male. Who knows.

"Male Scarlet Tanagers are among the most blindingly gorgeous birds in an eastern forest in summer, with blood-red bodies set off by jet-black wings and tail. They’re also one of the most frustratingly hard to find as they stay high in the forest canopy singing rich, burry songs. The yellowish-green, dark-winged females can be even harder to spot until you key in on this bird’s chick-burr call note. In fall, males trade red feathers for yellow-green and the birds take off for northern South America." - allaboutbirds.org

#photo #photography #photographer #photographylovers #birds #birdwatching #birds of north america #birdsphotography #birdlovers #birdphotography #birdingphotography #birds nature #scarlet tanager #bird photography #birding #bird watching #bird

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outofangband · 8 months

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Butterflies and moths of Doriath

Flora, fauna, geography and environment Masterlist

As always I included world building notes at the bottom so it’s not just a list of species

There are hundreds of species of butterflies found throughout the region of Doriath. Though Tolkien abandoned the idea that butterflies, all originated in the Nan Tathren, which was written in the book of lost tales, I do like to headcanon that this remained a legend or folktale in universe

Note: there are so many species of insects, this unfortunately cannot be a complete list

Primarily Neldoreth: orange tip (outskirts), elm autumn moth, Aglia tau, silver washed fritillary, dotted border moth, brown tail moth, comma butterfly

Primarily Nivrim: Checkered skipper, purple hairstreak (found in Region too), green hair streak, large copper, white prominent moth, purple emperor, large tortoiseshell

Primarily Region: Holly blue, northern blue, oak lantern moth, bird cherry ermine moth, blotched emerald moth

Throughout Doriath: ghost moth, wood white, cranberry blue, green longhorn moth, Luna moth, peacock butterfly, ghost moth, lilac leafminer moth, paper moth, white Pearl moth, red admiral, Heath fritillary, light emerald moth

Forest edges and clearings: short tailed blue, pea blue, purple edged copper, small copper, speckled wood, green hairstreak, wal brown, scarce swallowtail, clouded Apollo, blue spot hairstreak, twin spot fritillary, Julia,

World building notes

-Butterflies and moths, as a whole are associated among the Sindar with transformation and cycles of life as they are in many cultures. They are also symbols of abundance, color and precision/agility. Different species and varieties will have more specific connotations, however

-Arthórien has rare, even rainforest butterflies due to the difference in temperature and rainfall. I will make a separate post for its butterflies!

-The gardens of Menengroth also have several species of rare butterflies not found elsewhere in Doriath. These are nurtured by Melian’s power.

-ghost moths are associated with spring and summer for their bright colors and emergence in warmer weather. Insects and flora have had a large influence on color and pigmentation in Sindarin practices, both as inspiration and material.

There are even practices of safely collecting the dust and pollen that collect on the wings and legs of insects; it is immensely time consuming and precise.

-Orange tips can be found on the sigils of certain Doriath nobles. Their image is sometimes used in Doriathrim fashion, especially in jewel and hair pieces made from wood or metal. Alder bark is typically used to create the orange color

It was from these species among others that pollination was originally studied by the Sindar of Doriath.

-The purple hairstreak is associated with twilight and the darker reaches of the forest. This is primarily for its color as like most species of its family, they tend to emerge mainly on sunny days. They feed mostly on oak trees. The name for this species in Ilkorin translates to butterfly of twilight.

Their almost shadow like appearance in flight makes them a favorite for artists who make prints and illustrate naturalist work!

-Wood whites are often associated with niphredil both for their color and their habitat.

Note: I always imagine Niënor wearing a hair piece or embroidery with this species during her time in Doriath

-Luna moths are highly associated with Melian and with Lórien. They symbolize night, dream, and desire and appear as motifs in a lot of later Sindar poetry and art

#the silmarillion #musing and meta #Doriath #the children of húrin #beleriand

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fatehbaz · 1 year

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Indigenous knowledge and food sovereignty on the prairies. Native plants and history of farming in the the northern Great Plains. Maskēko-sākahikanihk (Muskeg Lake Cree Nation), Wipazoka Wakpa Oyate (Sioux Valley Dakota Nation), and Piikani First Nation recent approaches to sustainable food production. Bison grazing and grassland health on Piikani land.

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Indigenous peoples had lived and farmed the area centuries before European contact. [...]

Melissa Arcand is a soil scientist and associate professor at the University of Saskatchewan, and she grew up on a modern grain farm at Maskēko-sākahikanihk, or Muskeg Lake Cree Nation, north of Saskatoon. [...] Saskatchewan has more farmland than any other Canadian province. [...]

The yard is full of trees, including poplars, spruce and Manitoba maples — the fast-growing hardy species that form a protective wind-break around farm yards across the Prairies. Patricia shows me her vast garden on the south side of the yard. She has corn, squash, sunflowers, carrots, peas, flowers and shrubs of haskap and saskatoon berries. [...]

First Nation grain farmers are rare everywhere. In most cases, farmable land on the dozens of First Nation reserves across the plains of Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta is rented out to non-Indigenous farmers who live nearby. That came up as a concern during a forum Arcand organized on Indigenous farming in Saskatchewan in 2018. In forum discussions, attendees resolved to take greater control over farming activities on their lands. [...]

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Eugene Ross has a slow, soothing voice. [...] Ross is an Elder at Wipazoka Wakpa Oyate, literally “Saskatoon river people”, the Dakota name for Sioux Valley Dakota Nation. It lies at the forks of the Assiniboine and Oak Rivers, 50 kilometres west of Brandon, Manitoba [...].

Entering the plains from the rugged forest landscape of the Canadian Shield feels like dropping through a hatch in the back of a wardrobe. They are completely different worlds. West of the uber-flat Red River Valley, just beyond the town of Austin, the landscape begins to undulate, like a sloppily made bed. From there, the Prairies fold and flatten, roll and settle, in all directions, seemingly forever. Canada has 154 million acres of farmland, according to Statistics Canada’s 2021 census, and 126 million of those are in the Prairie provinces of Saskatchewan, Alberta and Manitoba. [...]

“Our Tylenol back in the day,” he says, pointing to Seneca root. From a ceiling hook, Ross takes down a string of white tubers, each about the size of a big toe: wild turnips. [...]

Production of another oilseed relative, Brassica napus, now the most common species on the Prairies, began in the 1940s. [...] In 1978, this improved crop got a new name: canola. Western Canadian farmers now grow canola on more than 20 million acres [...]. Canola is a cool-season crop that thrives in Western Canadian growing conditions. Ross knows a long list of native plants traditionally used for food and medicine that also thrive in the region. While highly unlikely that any will become the next canola, they could underpin a more diverse farming future. [...]

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You can see Piikani First Nation from the cliff’s edge at Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump in southern Alberta. [...] Today that great green sea, whipped by winds from a cascade of buffalo ghosts and bisected by the Old Man River, is Piikani territory. Noreen Plain Eagle is the land manager for Piikani First Nation and its 106,000 acres. [...]

Food sovereignty is a priority. Piikani’s reliance on outside food became acutely clear in the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic when food companies, overwhelmed by supply chain issues, could not deliver their usual supply. Piikani nearly ran out of fresh food. It was a call to action for Plain Eagle. “We don’t want to be at the mercy of someone else to provide food to our community,” she says. “We want food sovereignty.” [...]

The next phase is to build a greenhouse at the school to produce a wider variety of vegetables. “We will use it as a hands-on teaching tool for students,” Plain Eagle says. “Terminology will be in the Blackfoot language.” [...] Plain Eagle also has plans to grow corn and potatoes for the community, and to think more strategically about the nation’s small bison herd. “Bison have always been part of our history,” she says, “and we’re learning how they can contribute to our grassland health.” Grasslands need a keystone grazer, like bison or cattle, to keep the grass in check and maintain grassland biodiversity. [...]

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Text by: Jay Whetter. “The true history of farming on the Prairies.” The Narwhal. 8 October 2022. [Bolded emphasis and italicized first paragraph added by me.]

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girlinlovewiththeforest · 1 year

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rebeccathenaturalist · 9 months

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How to Identify Chicken of the Woods Mushrooms

Originally posted n my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/how-to-identify-chicken-of-the-woods/. Click here to learn more about the How to Identify article series.

Name: Chicken of the woods (Laetiporus spp.), aka sulfur shelf, chicken mushroom (hen of the woods is a different mushroom entirely, Grifola frondosa)

L. sulphureus

Range and typical habitat(s): There are Laetiporus species found in temperate forests on every continent except Antarctica. They are especially abundant in the Northern hemisphere, particularly North America and Europe. They are saprophytes that feed on dead or injured trees and can cause brown rot as they digest cellulose but leave lignin intact. Most species prefer deciduous trees such as oaks or beeches. However, L. conifericola is an example of a species that colonizes conifers such as spruces and firs.

Distinguishing physical characteristics (size, colors, overall shapes, detail shapes): I often describe chicken of the woods to my foraging students as looking like a pile of orange and yellow pancakes exploding out of the side of a tree. These are fleshy-looking, shelf-shaped mushrooms that often grow in large stacks or clusters. A particularly large individual shelf may be almost a foot across, and some clusters may be several feet tall. Look closely, and you will notice that these shelves do not have stems but attach directly to the host tree.

A specimen of L. sulphureus displaying a darker orange with pale orange instead of bright yellow margins.

While the bright sulfur yellow and orange color combination is typical, particularly in well-known chicken of the woods species such as L. sulphureus, there may be significant color variation even within the same species. Some have a deeper orange that’s almost red, while others are a more uniform washed-out orange with little to no yellow, or perhaps cream instead. L. portentosus, which is particularly common in Australia, gets its common name, “white punk”, from its creamy white color with little to no orange. L. persicinus, found in the southeast United States and Caribbean, may have some brown on its shelves as well.

L. conifericola, displaying the yellow pore surface underneath. RTehan at Mushroom Observer, CCA-SA-3.0

The underside of chicken of the woods tends to be yellow to cream, and while it may appear smooth at first it does have very fine pores. The spores are generally white, though a microscope may be necessary in order to differentiate between very similar species that overlap in range. Most Laetiporus species do not bruise; however, L. persicinus has pores that bruise brown shortly after being damaged.

Younger chicken of the woods tend to have a softer, more rubbery tactile texture (yes, it’s okay to touch mushrooms to see what they feel like.) As they get older, however, they get a tough, woody texture, and cooking them does not make them tender again.

Other organisms it could be confused with and how to tell the difference: Most of the time you’re going to be differentiating among multiple Laetiporus species, in which case location, color and substrate (what kind of tree it’s growing on) are going to be the main factors in identifying down to species level. If you have a microscope and want to look at the spores in detail you’re certainly welcome, but the casual identifier should be able to get by without this.

Dyer’s polypore (Phaeolus schweinitzii)

There are, however, several other shelf-like fungi with which chicken of the woods may be confused if you aren’t looking carefully. Dyer’s polypore (Phaeolus schweinitzii) may have some orange on the upper surface, especially when young, but the centers turn an increasingly dark brown as the mushroom matures. It also has a velvety texture that chicken of the woods lacks. It is found primarily on conifers, and the pores bruise brown when damaged. It has a white spore print.

Woolly velvet polypore (Onnia tomentosa)

The woolly velvet polypore (Onnia tomentosa) is another look-alike. It is generally brown with a white to cream outer margin, but while the lighter brown shades may have a bit of an orange tint, the brown is a giveaway that this is not chicken of the woods. The underside is also brown, rather than white or yellow, and it primarily grows on conifers, especially spruce.

Pycnoporus cinnabarinus

Pycnoporus cinnabarinus looks very much like a Laetiporus in shape, but is a bright red-orange color on both the top and the underside. It has a drier, less flexible texture as well, and prefers hardwood trees as hosts.

Climacocystis borealis. Gerhard Koller at Mushroom Observer, CCA-SA-3.0

Climacocystis borealis has a hairy texture on the upper surface, and the color is a rather dull cream, yellow or orange, Underneath the pores are cream to yellow and have a more visible texture than on Laetiporus. It attaches to its host conifer trees with a short stem-like structure.

Hen of the woods (Grifola frondosa). Patrick Harvey, CCA-SA-3.0

Hen of the woods (Grifola frondosa), also known as maitake, looks something like a burst of grayish-brown feathers or leaves sprouting from the base of a tree. Upon closer inspection the individual caps are much smaller, more delicate and more numerous than in Laetiporus. The pores underneath are often more visible as well. They prefer hardwoods such as oaks.

There are other shelf-shaped mushrooms in the family Fomitopsidaceae that are vaguely similar to Laetiporus species, but all differ in shape and color, among other details. Make sure you look very closely at all colors on both the topside and underside of a given shelf mushroom, check for bruising by cutting or crushing a small part and waiting a half hour, and take a spore print.

Anything else worth mentioning? Laetiporus species are generally considered to be edible, though more commonly eaten species like L. sulphureus have more documentation in this regard than less common species. Its common name comes from the cooked mushroom’s resemblance to cooked chicken meat, and it is often used as a vegetarian meat alternative in recipes.

Care should be taken when consuming any Laetiporus species for the first time, even if you have eaten other species of the genus with no problem. Research each species as though you had never encountered chicken of the woods before, and make sure that species is considered safely edible by current standards.

A small number of people who eat chicken of the woods experience unpleasant symptoms ranging from gastrointestinal upset to swollen lips or mouth and dizziness. This may be due to allergic reactions, so caution is absolutely necessary. Always cook wild mushrooms, including Laetiporus, thoroughly; try a few bites, then wait a couple of days to see if you have any symptoms.