Survival tactics for the Apocalypse I just happen to know. Keep in mind, these apply for zombies and just a good old social collapse.

Wear denim and leather, or some types of strong military fabrics. Strong, alive human teeth can’t bite through those materials, so I doubt a zombie with rotting, dead teeth can.

Gas.Goes.Bad. I don’t understand how people are using cars like 10 years into the apocalypse, when gas will go bad after about 3-6 months, and diesel will last roughly a year.

Medicine expires! It doesn’t last for all eternity. It does remain usable, but gets weaker the longer it expires.

BRACES. If you have them, I’m sorry, but unless you find someone, somehow, to get them off, You’re pretty much screwed.

You won’t always be able to brush your teeth, sorry :,)

Your clothes will stink. You will stink. Everything will stink. Even if there aren’t zombies, there will be dead animals and people everywhere.

If you need insulin or any other type of refrigerated medicines, I’m sorry, but you’re out of luck.

Asthmatic people, including myself, will have to be super careful when it comes to losing our breath, literally.

If you need any type of blood pressure pills, or heart medicines, you’re also out of luck.

PERIODS! Blood attracts the zombies, so you’re screwed while you have pads and tampons, and even more screwed when you run out.

Guns jam and misfire, especially when not cared for properly.

Swinging a bat or a sword takes a lot of energy and stamina, and you won’t always get a one hit kill.

Canned food expires.

You want to hunt? Each time you’ll have to go out further due to exhausting the game in your area.

Never use a knife with a serrated edge on a zombie. It’ll get stuck in the bone.

Never use a knife with a serrated edge for a rib cut, cause it’ll get lodged between the bones.

Don’t pull your gun on someone who’s ready. You won’t be able to ready, aim, fire before the person shoots you first.

If you can’t hit the head, aim for the neck as well, especially if using a shotgun or high power rifle. You might be able to take off the head that way.

Human kills don’t always have to be headshots. Center mass works well.

If you’re dealing with 28 days later zombies, or The Last of Us infected, multiple body shots will take them down, as they are still alive, but a headshot will work best, and wastes less ammo.

If you’re dealing with The Walking Dead’s walkers, a headshot is the only way to put them down.

For all living things: Kill the head, the body will die.

You will not get a headshot every time. You’ll miss a lot, especially when you first start learning to shoot.

Your femoral artery is located in your upper thigh, near the groin. Try not to nick it, you’ll bleed out before anyone can even think of the proper medical response.

Remember when using knives, get one with a grip. When blood pours down the handle, the knife will become slippery and you will drop it or be unable to retrieve it.

Not all handguns use the same ammo! If you want an easily accessible gun, go for a Ruger SR22. You should be able to find them at Walmart, and their ammo is also sold at Walmart.

Keep in mind, ammo, canned foods, medicines, gas and guns are gonna be the first things to go, ergo the hardest to find.

If you have zip ties around your wrists, try to move your arms up, then jerk down and out. Repeat a couple times and they should snap.

Cold weather should stop zombies quickly, as they have no pumping/flowing blood to keep them moving.

Libraries will have books and manuals about agriculture, carpentry, mechanics, fishing, hunting, butchering and other survival things. USE THEM!

If you’re going to loot, don’t only check the obvious places. Check everywhere. A sales executive’s office may reward you with a bottle of Tylenol. A soccer mom’s van can wield granola and water bottles. A gym rat’s locker can give you protein.

Peanut butter. That’s all.

Don’t use them same knife you use to kill zombies to open your canned food. That’s gross as hell man :/

Some household cleaning products have explosive reactions when mixed together.

If you melt styrofoam it becomes homemade napalm.

High schools and colleges will not only have fully stocked pantries and nurse’s offices, but check their chemistry labs. You might find chemicals that can be made into explosives. If not, you can look at textbooks and find out which chemicals react in which ways.

If you find a school that has fences, use it! Football fields can be turned into gardens and livestock areas. The roof becomes a watchtower. The classrooms all lock, and there should be keys to all of them in the principals office or janitors closet. personal apartments, safety for the group. And no one really ever thinks to go to a school.

First place people think to go when a virus breaks out? the hospital, grocery stores, or highways to get the hell out of dodge. Avoid these places like the plague, literally. Wait for a few months until the elements and time have taken a toll on the corpses that most likely infest these places. Then try to scope them out. Never go alone, and never go in blind.

Museums should have seeds and such, especially if they have a horticultural division. Find these seeds, and use them.

A crossbow is not a good weapon. While it helps with the stealth option, it takes far too long to reload your bolts. That, along with the fact that a crossbow is so powerful, the bolt will most likely go straight through a rotted skull and lodge in the wall behind, or just get lodged in a fresh enough skull.

Farms. If the owners are dead? Oh no, its sad, yes, but now you have a farm to your advantage. Most farmers will have home canned goods, backup generators, gas stored in the barn, animals like cows (milk and beef are two different types, keep that in mind) Chickens (Try only eating designated meat chickens, as they will have more meat on them and you need layers for eggs) goats (again, meat and milk are two different types, and make sure to keep bucks and does separate or the milk will come out tasting like male goats, yuck.) Pigs, and more. They will also have crops and other things you may find helpful, especially their tractors when it comes time to plant new crops.

Corn can be used to make Ethanol.

Farms also have the luxury of being fenced in. Reinforce these fences if you can.

Dig pits for zombies to fall into, and go out regularly to dispose of them so they don’t stink up the place.

The Amish will most likely have no idea whats going on until its too late, due to their lack of technology. This is horribly sad, as most Amish families consist of the parents, their elderly parents, and anywhere from 1-15 kids. While sad, this also means these house will be stocked with food and medical supplies. And while you wont have the luxury of using a generator for electricity, All Amish homes have access to kerosene for lamps, along with access to a Well and Outhouses.

While you may have access to a generator, only use it sparingly and only if you’re isolated. Noise attracts zombies and worse, other people.

Don’t use your gun on group of zombies less than 5. They’re slow, and clumsy, and the sound of a gun will only attract more. Again, sound=bad. Wrap duct tape around your ankles, so no crawlers can get you.

Wrap duct tape around your arms. Nothing can bite you as you hold it off.

BE careful at night. Most zoos will let all of their animals free if something like this happens so they have a fair chance of survival. Lions, bears, hyenas, cheetahs, and more just got added to your ever growing list of enemies.

Stay away from Military sites unless you scope them out. Most will shoot on sight, as they do not want the infection to spread.

If the Site is abandoned, check it out before sending people in. I know the idea of seemingly endless MRE’s, Medications, Guns, and ammo seems like a dream come true, but these places will most likely be infested.

If it’s too good to be true, it probably is.

Sneak around. Don’t attack zombies or people unless you absolutely have to.

Try going to Military academies. Most times, the cadets will be called to become a line of defense for the nearest city, town, etc. They should still have plenty of guns, ammo, food, and gear that can aid you, along with the bonus of most of them having tall walls.

Try not to use riot gear. I’m not saying don’t, but limit your usage of it, especially if where you’re located is hot. The gear, while extremely beneficial on terms of safety, makes you slower, less articulate, and you will overheat fast.

Black clothing attracts the sun, white reflects it.

This isnt a movie. You aren’t going to waltz around in booty shorts and tank tops and look all sexy while you survive. The first time you stick your arm out first as your turn a corner a zombie will grab you and take a bite out of your uncovered arm. Same goes for you, guys. Wear a belt, don’t sag your jeans. You’ll trip. Don’t wear anything that leaves you revealed to snappy jaws or wandering hands.

Cut your hair short, dont wear loose clothing, and dont wear jewelry. You will get snagged or grabbed, then boom, game over.

If you find a multitude of supplies, don’t take it all. Someone else may need something too.

Don’t trust little kids right off the bat, they could be being used as bait.

You aren’t gonna have a curvy, model body, sorry to disappoint women out there. You’re mostly likely gonna look like an anorexic person, due to your lack of constant food supply.

You can go 3 days without water, and 3 weeks without food.

Stay away from carbs, they only give short busts of energy.

After roughly 72 hours without sleep, you will begin to hallucinate. Try to catch a few hours whenever you can.

Stay away from densely populated areas, including the suburbs, sixties, large towns, and highways. Smaller towns and isolated shops/gas stations should be on the safer side.

Your car will need work, and will probably need its oil changed. While it’s still working, that is.

Crotch shots work for women just as much as they do for men.

If hitting a deer or raccoon messes up your car, imagine the damage hitting a full grown zombie or human will do.

belt yourself into a tree. It’s not comfortable, but you won’t be zombie bait. On that note, try to conceal yourself in branches so wandering zombies or people dont group around your tree for a surprise party when you wake up.

!!!A HUMAN BITE IS JUST AS DEADLY AS A ZOMBIE BITE!!!

Head wounds bleed more than any other small wounds.

Don’t let your wounds get infected. It will mostly likely kill you.

People are worse than the undead. They can think, and plan ahead. They can do coordinated attacks, and they can trick you if you let your guard down. Remember, Trust no one, suspect everyone.

Sincerely, a 19 year old girl who is obsessed with zombie movies/shows and survival.

In Dreams

By: @m-arnie-xx (m_arnie)

In collaboration with: @fearlessinger (eleu)

Main inspiration: https://fearlessinger.tumblr.com/post/685990497282621440/who-wants-to-hear-a-conspiracy-theory-you-guys

Secondary inspiration (if you can spot which part, you get a gold star ⭐️): https://archiveofourown.org/works/27778300

——————

Zoe Nightshade did not get demigod dreams.

She knew, of course, about the recent (for her) development in the powers of those good-for-nothing half-bloods, that granted them the ability to glean bits and pieces of useful information for wars or quests every time they slipped into Morpheus’ realm. Scenes from the past and present and prophetic hints of the future alike, even in her Lady’s hunt, though more uncommon, there were cases of young Hunters knowing information they could not have possibly found out in regular ways, and tossing out a casual “I saw it in a dream” when asked how.

Still, Zoe was not a demigod, thank you very much.

And therefore, Zoe Nightshade did not get demigod dreams… until she did.

For two whole weeks now, every time she closed her eyes, allowed her mind and body to relax after an adrenaline filled hunt, Zoe found herself standing at the base of Mount Othyrs, looking up to where the mountain’s peak should have been, if only there wasn’t a storm of black clouds swirling around the whole place, thick plumes of… clouds? smoke? …billowing up towards the sky, blocking the sun’s rays.

That was the extent of it. Nothing more, and nothing less. She would have been almost inclined to dismiss the dreams all together, ignore them and write the whole thing off as her brain suddenly becoming fixated on the mountain for reasons that eluded her, if it hadn’t been for two things:

One: the persistent frequency of the dreams.

Two: the sort of… heaviness that would settle over her every time she stood there, staring up at the mountain with an annoyance that grew as the days passed.

Why am I seeing this? she would think.

And that presence, that heavy blanket of something, would settle over her like a warning.

Pay attention, it seemed to say, if an oddly-familiar presence could speak that was. Pay attention. Pay attention. Pay attention.

Lying (Next) To You (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for violence + language Warnings: Blood-drinking/general vampiric shenanigans Summary: There is no goal other than escape. You want out of this castle, no matter what you have to do, no matter the consequences. At first, the solution seems to lie with one of the very women you want to get away from. But what happens when you find yourself genuinely caring for her? Length: 5,934 words

Merely surviving had never been your intention. From day one in this foul place, this unholy castle, you had strived to escape. No matter what, you refused to allow such dismal grounds to be your grave. But leaving wouldn’t be as simple as walking out an unlocked door. It required manipulation, agility, and the willingness to screw over anyone who got in your way. Even those who you would have once called friends, or the closest thing you had to that among the servants. Was that something you were willing to do? Absolutely, without a shred of doubt in your mind. Someday, somehow, regardless of what it took, you’d get out and never look back. For now, though, all you can do is scheme…

Precious Alpha

Being an alpha already put a lot of pressure on Hwasa to act tough and follow the stigma that she had on her position in the hierarchy. Then when she became an idol with a very particular brand of being the big bad-ass of the group, the expectation of her personality only grew.

Fans and omegas alike fawned over the alpha with a purpose. There was an appeal to her cool demeanour that caught the attention of your fellow omegas.

It was a different story when it came to you though.

"Inner Spirit"

Celebrating Korrasami Day 2022.

Frat Daddy the Third - USWNT x Reader

Summary/Request: Anon sorta said "reader being under the legal drinking age but the team travels to Europe and the reader goes out...team ends up taking care of them at the end"

A/N: So this isn't exactly what anon requested but this what my brain made of it. Enjoy.

Trigger warning: Excessive drinking of Alcohol and mentions of a date rape drug but no one gets hurt.

Despite what everyone else may think, there is nothing cool about trying to balance being in college and being on the senior national team.

Okay, maybe that is slightly dramatic because playing on the same team as some of the women you grew up idolizing is incredibly cool but there are some downsides.

You could waste time listing them all but there is only me that is bugging you right now: not being able to have a drink when you want one.

wednesday addams x vampire!reader headcanons

Reach Out

It’s only been a year and a half since Thalia joined the Hunt, taking the recently vacated spot of their Lady’s Lieutenant (and Phoebe’s thankful, really; Zoë had been in the role too long for her to have been able to step into it herself, knowing the reason is because one of her longest, closest sisters has died.  It’s better that they have a newcomer, one not wracked with grief and tight in the clutches of shock trying to stumble their way through a new responsibility).

Things have changed. It was inevitable, and it was sudden. Too sudden, for girls who have lived for thousands of years, but their Lady didn’t disagree with Thalia’s new, fresh stance on things so they’ve followed and for the most part, adapted. It helps, a little, that their orders to march to Olympus came from their Lady rather than Thalia, although Phoebe is well aware that the daughter of Zeus is attached – too attached – to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood and would never have left them to this fight alone even without Artemis’ decision.

For her part, Phoebe has no attachment to Camp Half-Blood.  She’s old, old enough to remember things that others whisper about as myths, forgetting that myths exist for a reason.  Not as old as Zoë, or their Lady, but older than Camp Half-Blood. When she was mortal, there was no safe place for demigods.

She still remembers nearly dying, and the encounter with her Lady that followed.

Keep reading

The Box

(Kyalin)(Korrasami)

"This is where the Chief lives?" Asami asked as Korra put the key into the lock.

"I guess, maybe she moves once a month to keep anonymity or something." Korra replied, pushing the door open. The two of them paused, taking in the room before them. They had expected pristine, but they hadn't expected so much color. In place of grey were blues and green, making the place feel tranquil instead of the prison they had imagined. Korra opened the paper Lin had given them, re reading the instructions.

"Theres no way this is right." Korra said, scratching her head. Asami went up to a photo of the south pole, the lights in the sky over an arctic tundra.

"She likes photography." She remarked and Korra ran her fingers over a blanket on the sofa.

"This is like... water tribe design."

"Lin likes the culture." Asami said, smiling slightly. Being in Lin's house made the woman seem a little more... human. Asami made her way to the kitchen, Lin's instructions said what they were looking for was in a drawer under the knives. As she was looking around, she hear Korra call from another room.

"Asami!" Asami sighed, following Korra into what seemed to be the master bedroom.

"What?" She asked. Korra held a photo in her hand, mouth gaped. Asami looked over her shoulder, gasping at the image of Lin smiling at the camera, Kya pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Asami she..."

"Oh Ravaa," Asami said, "do you think-"

"Thats Kya's stuff." Asami smiled, kissing Korra on the cheek fondly.

"She was the first one to congratulate us," Korra whispered. "I can't believe I didn't know."

"She's a secretive person."

"I know, but still, I thought I'd at least be able to tell." Asami laughed, the two of them sat on the bed, unable to pry their eyes from the picture.

"Korra, you didn't even know yourself until a year ago."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Korra ran a thumb over the picture, and Asami looked at her thoughtfully.

"You think that'll be us one day?" Asami asked and Korra finally looked at her.

"I do. I really do." Asami kissed her and they put the photograph down.

"I wonder who else knows," Asami said as they made their way to the kitchen.

"I want to ask around but I don't want to... say something I'm not supposed to."

"Do you think Mako knows?" Asami asked.

"Hard to say, he's with her all day, so maybe? He's not very observant when it comes to these things." Theh chuckled and Asami pulled out the box from the drawer.

"I think this it," the engineer said, looking at the box.

"Wait," Korra said, taking paper from the notepad and a pen.

"What are you doing?" Asami asked.

"Just leaving the Chief a note."

"I see. Korra, do.you think she wanted us to know? Is that why she asked us?" Korra stopped writing, looking to Asami.

"You're right." Korra said, "she just didn't want the conversation." Asami placed her hands on her hips.

"Huh. She put way too much faith in us, what if we didn't figure it out?"

"She knew we'd snoop." Korra put her note on the counter, taking the box.

"Lets get back to Beifong, then to Air temple island, Kya's gotta have more pictures there."

"What about Avatar stuff?" Asami asked skeptically.

"Asami, this is huge. Being the Avatar is going to have to wait, I need to know how long the Chief and and Kya have been smashing." Asami rolled her eyes, following Korra out.

"You better not say that to her, she'll throw you in jail."

"Hah, I know better," Korra grinned, looking back before locking the door.

Dear Chief,

Got your message loud and clear: you and Kya are "friends". Secrets safe with us, Chief.

Lin put down the note, Kya standing behind her looking over her shoulder.

"Clearly, they didn't open the box." Lin remarked.

"Why? What was in the box?" Kya asked, sipping from her 'property of Lin Beifong' mug she had made herself (much against Lin's advisement). Lin took off her glass, reaching into her pocket, pulling out the handcrafted metal box she had the two of them deliver to the precinct earlier that afternoon. Kya watched as Lin opened the box, revealing the silver betrothal necklace. Kya gasped, and Lin turned to her. The older woman took off her glass, looking to Lin then the necklace.

"Lin are you-"

"Asking you to marry me, yeah." Kya smiled, pulling her wife to be into a kiss.

"Why go through all this?" Kya asked when they pulled away, taking the box into her own hands.

"I wanted to know what they thought of it."

"And they didn't open it?"

"Guess not. Got distracted by the picture in the bedroom."

"Huh, guess you over estimated Korra's nosy-ness."

"Next time I'll ask Bolin." Kya laughed. Lin helped Kya put it on, and they took a new picture, putting the other one on the coffee table, where everyone could see it.

friend!

Finally Home || Vic Hughes

Not a request

Prompt list #1 | Prompts #3 Smiling into a kiss, #4 A hug after not seeing someone for a long time, #6 Chasing someones lips after they pull away, #7 Wiping someones tears away |

Victoria Hughes x gn!reader

Word count: 427

Finally Home || Vic Hughes

Not a request

Prompt list #1 | Prompts #3 Smiling into a kiss, #4 A hug after not seeing someone for a long time, #6 Chasing someones lips after they pull away, #7 Wiping someones tears away |

Victoria Hughes x gn!reader

Word count: 427

Everyone needs to see this scene without the background music. It just hits different.

Please give love to the talented person that editted the scene. Link to thr twitter attached.

Fire brings death

Lauren Bloom Angst Alphabet

➶𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐱 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞 (𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐛 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐛 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚/𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.

helen felt guilty for telling max about the adderall in an ibuprofen bottle. she knew she shouldn’t overthink this. lastly, she just helped her friend. she knew, that it was the best thing she could do, but she just couldn’t get out of her mind the look lauren gave her before leaving. it wasn’t an angry look, it wasn’t even the disappointed look. it was a dull, flat look, that she has never seen before.

helen missed lauren. she really did. she missed her smile, her laugh, her stupid jokes and ironic comments. all the things that used to make her smirk or just simply irritated her.

lauren felt like a dissapointment. dissapointment to max, helen, floyd and everyone at the hospital. to her mother, father and vanessa. but above this all, she felt like a dissapointment to herself. she promised herself she would stop taking so much adderall, and she tried. she truly wanted to get herself out of this.

lauren missed helen. she really did. she missed her eyes, her little giggles, the smell of coffee she was always drinking.  

“lauren, there’s someone to see you”

bloom was looking like a mess but was too tired to even get out of bed and change. so she just nodded and smiled weakly.

“hi laur.”

helen sharpe. the only person lauren trusted came to her. and now saw her in old jog suit and oversized hoodie. lauren would never admit it but she almost started crying when she saw helen just standing there with a shy smile.  

“hi.”

helen took off her jacket and placed it on a couch.

“this is not what i imagined when i thought about rehab center”

“yeah? you thought i live in a cell, chained to the wall?”

lauren smiled a little and helen laughed quietly.

“i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for that you had to be here all alone and none of us visited you.”

lauren sighed.  

“i’m sorry too”

“you have no rea-”

“yes i do, helen. i let you all down, and i’m sorry for that”

sharpe seemed to be really concerned. she sat on the bed, next to lauren.  

“sweetheart, you don’t have to be sorry”

all of sudden lauren froze and just couldn’t move. a million thoughts started running through her head. she started shaking and couldn’t stop. she was so scared and didnt even know why.

“laur, everything okay?”

helen didn’t know what to do so she just hugged her friend. she pressed her tightly and started stroking her hair.  

“shh, its okay. i’m right here. just breathe, okay?”

after a few minutes she moved away a little but realised that lauren’s face is stained with tears.

“hun, did i say something?”

“no, helen its just… i’m so sorry”

lauren snuggled into helen and slowly started to calm down. she finally felt safe.  

I find it hard to believe that New Amsterdam has such little fanfiction. It’s a great show! So I decided to write something for the Leyren ship (which I would usually never do) to fix this! Hope you enjoy :)

Summary: How the Dam Fam finds out about Lauren’s new roommate.

Helen:

“So, naturally, you offered her to live with you” said Helen sarcastically, incredulous at Lauren’s out of character decision.

“Well, yes, she has become my friend after all, and I couldn’t let her alone in the streets”, replied Lauren matter-of-factly.

“Hmm. And how’s it going?” Helen rose an eyebrow suspiciously.

“It’s...” Lauren let out a small sigh, “It’s effortless, really. I feel like she’s always been there”. The “which scares me” was left unsaid.

Helen patiently waited until Lauren disclosed more, knowing her friend usually needed more time to open up.

“Well, except for the massive tree in the middle of the living room. Which I don’t dislike, but...”

“What?!” This got Helen’s attention. Since when was Bloom known to decorate her apartments, let alone let another person do so... with living things?!

“Well, she bought a tree, said it reminded her of home. But apparently it was smaller in the picture, so now I have a full-blown tree in my living room. And I think I like it” that last part she muttered softly.

Helen let out a small, genuine smile, amused but also proud of her friend. “That looks like progress. You haven’t yet snapped her head off for touching your space, so I’d say that’s a point for Lauren’s intimate relationships”.

“Pfft. It’s not very intimate if I still don’t know about her. I have tried to learn what she likes, but she still won’t really tell me about herself. It’s a little frustrating really” Lauren let out an adorable pout.

“Well, give her time. She is living in a stranger’s house after all, in a new country and with probably no other connections or friendships here. I can’t imagine she trusts people easily” said Helen patiently.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mama Bear is at it again. Free advice for all!” Lauren laughed.

Helen snorted. “Well, it’s taken me nowhere with Mina. Still don’t know how this motherly figure thing works, sadly” she stated defeatedly.

“Oh, come on! You’re doing great! She’s slowly respecting her school timetable and your curfews more, right? And she hasn’t put a massive tree in your living room. That has to count for something” said Lauren, pointing her finger at Helen as she walked towards her ED. “You’ve got this!” and she gave Helen her best thumbs up and exaggerated smile.

Casey:

Lauren haphazardly threw her stuff into her backpack and went for the door, ready to call it a day and head back home.

“Lauren, you’re rushing out” Casey said suspiciously as he entered the locker room. “I assume this means you’re gonna continue smuggling your friend here? Cause if it does, you should know you are risking even more than before. If they catch you again...”

“No, Casey, it’s not like that” Lauren stated. “Don’t worry, she won’t be coming back here”.

“So that means... you let her go? Do you know where she is?” said Casey, now concerned about Leyla’s wellbeing.

“She’s actually... living with me?” said Lauren, the last part coming out in a rush and higher pitch.

“What?” asked Casey, wide-eyed. “Lauren, she- what?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave her on the streets, and I figured since I’m never home it couldn’t hurt to give her my spare room” justified Lauren to what seemed like Casey and herself.

“Okay, Lauren, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, you are risking a lot for this stranger. Please be careful” said Casey, though not unkindly. He was just worried about his friend.

“But that’s just it, Casey. She’s not a stranger, not anymore, and I would have done the same for any one of you. I protect my people” said Lauren, now sounding much more convinced.

“Well, if you’re happy with your decision, I can only congratulate you. You finally have a friend outside of work!” he added with a smile, teasing Lauren.

Lauren swatted his arm playfully. “I forgot, Mr Popular here knows most of New York. And I might have one friend, but it’s a hard one” she said, giving him the finger.

“Okay, okay!” Casey laughed, raising his arms defensively. “You win. But Lauren” he said softly “I am happy for you. Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing”.

“Thanks” said Lauren with a smile, squeezing his arm lightly as she left.

Lauren:

She did know what she was doing. Right. Right? It wasn’t like Leyla was a random stranger, not anymore, and she liked her enough that living together had been smooth sailing so far. So why did she find herself overthinking everything when it came to Leyla?

“Get your shit together, Lauren” she chanted to herself. She was driving home, her palms sweating slightly, but still excited to get there. She had been rushing out a lot lately. The memory of Leyla’s soft smile as she held her hand, fingers interlocking and fitting perfectly as they stared at the tree and Lauren’s want, need to be close, oh so close, a compass searching North. She couldn’t wait to get home to Leyla’s sarcasm, Leyla’s dinners, Leyla’s subtle presence in her apartment and life that made it theirs.

Without noticing, Lauren had been smiling like an idiot for at least half an hour, and she had arrived to her portal. She got out of the car and went for the stairs, taking twice at a time. But as she opened the door, a wave of disappointment washed over her. Leyla wasn’t home, had probably had to take a DriverTime client, and suddenly the apartment felt empty and cold again. Lauren couldn’t understand how she had lived like this for so long before.

But then a thought sprung to mind. Leyla had waited for her every day for the past week, staying up and meeting her with a fabulous home-cooked dinner after work. The least she could do was reciprocate, so Lauren got ready to prepare a mindblowing meal or die trying. Cooking had never been her strong suit, but she figured it couldn’t be too hard.

She remembered Leyla mentioning she deeply missed Pakistani cuisine, and how she had been disgusted by Lauren suggesting she try a Pakistani restaurant around the corner. “You Americans think you can serve a random dish and rebrand an entire culture. That place is not Pakistani”, she had stated. So Lauren had asked, and she had learned, how Nihari reminded her of late night dinners at home and Lassi was her all-time favourite beverage. And so she had a single thought in mind; today she was making the best Pakistani dinner for Leyla.

As she set out to spice the assortion of different meets, she re-entered her previous reverie. She knew Leyla would love this, even if Lauren was probably going to ruin the recipe and tarnish the Pakistani name. But Leyla would smile sweetly, as she did every time Lauren remembered a small detail about her and did her best to make her feel like home, and she would be grateful. Lauren could not wait until she came back, excited to see that look on her face that said “no one’s ever cared for me like this, and I’m glad you’re the first one”.

Slow-cooking the meat into a stew proved difficult, and mixing the yoghurt, water, spices and fruit for the Lassi had Lauren seriously questioning her cooking skills. But all in all, after about an hour she decided she had done a pretty good job. She set out to dress the table, going as far as opening a good red wine and placing a candle. She didn’t want to overdo it, but thought Leyla would decidedly not mind and find her efforts cute. Lauren was struck by the inclusion of “cute” into her vocabulary, could not remember when she had cared about someone’s reaction this much, and decided damn Leyla and her faint smiles had softened her. She couldn’t bring herself to care, though.

And just like clockwork, as soon as Lauren set the last plate with the fine-looking Nihari on the table, Leyla entered the apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!” she shouted jokingly in her beautiful accent.

“Hey! How was work? Any frat boys I should beat up?” said Lauren smiling.

“No frat boys, thankfully. Just an old lady telling me about her grandson. I must have seen like 30 photos of him, and let me tell you, no one can convince me babies are cute. They’re bald!” Leyla proclaimed, dignified.

Lauren snorted. “Of course you would befriend a grandma and have her show you her family. It must be your cranky charm” replied Lauren teasingly.

“You would be surprised. I cause sensation amongst octogenarians” said Leyla amusedly. As she caught the smell of cooked meat, she looked at Lauren, surprised. “You cooked? You? Is MY tree burnt down?” she joked.

“I’ll let you know, OUR tree is intact and very much still alive. And don’t you dare take away my custody, I love him like my own son too!” said Lauren in mock dignification. “I did cook, and I hope you like it” she continued, now softly. She met Leyla’s eye, hope and wonder sparkling bilaterally.

Leyla approached the table, repressing a squeel of excitement at the site of her favourite foods. “Lauren! You shouldn’t have! How did you even-?” and as she turned around to look at Lauren, the intensity in her eyes stunned her. The amount of care and adoration was palpable there, and it was enough to overwhelm her.

“Thank you”, she said in a small voice.

“I thought you deserved something special. You know, for cooking horrible meals every day” Leyla approached her slowly, still with eyes locked in an intense duel. “You would think as a doctor my main threat of illness would come from my patients, but you make a hard run for it” another step closer. “And besides, knowing my cooking skills it’s probably very bad. So we’re even” she continued rambling. Leyla finally took the final step towards Lauren, cupping her cheek and forcing her to shut up.

“You talk too much”, she said, resting on her tiptoes slightly to reach for her cheek and place a soft kiss there. “Thank you, truly”.

Lauren stood there, transfixed and unable to utter words. “Y-Yeah. It’s... nothing, really” she managed to muster.

Leyla tried to fight off a smile at Lauren’s awkwardness. During the course of her stay at Lauren’s- their- apatment, she had been quick to discover that she could turn Lauren, the hard-assed doctor and witty friend, into a rambling mess with well placed silences and touches. And naturally, she had immediately taken a liking to doing so as often as possible.

She turned around and sat at the table, staring down at her food and trying not to show her satisfaction at the amount of time it took Lauren to recompose herself and sit with her. She let Lauren pour some wine for herself, seeing as she didn’t look too enthused with the Lassi, and tried the Nihari. And, oh god, it certainly wasn’t like the one she enjoyed back home, but Lauren had undoubtedly achieved something here. Leyla couldn’t stop a moan from escaping her lips.

Lauren sat across from her, lips parted, staring at her like she was the only thing in the world. Her eyes slowly trailed to her lips, and Leyla thought she might burst if she didn’t break the moment soon. “Lauren, it’s- it’s perfect” said Leyla, and she meant it. It might not be like the one back home, but Lauren had managed to capture a new flavour, to redefine the very meaning home. She could get used to this.

Lauren looked back up at her, smile back in place. “Really? That’s new” she said, satisfied and proud of her achievement.

As they ate in silence, Lauren realised two things. One, she was definitely falling in love with Leyla Shinwari. And two, while Leyla had been her roommate for a few weeks already, it was only now that she felt like they were actually _living_ together... building a home.

Iggy:

“Hey, Iggs! I haven’t caught up with you in a while! How’s everything going?” asked Lauren as she entered Iggy’s office, taking the sofa and sprawling out on it.

Iggy stopped flicking through his charts, immediately knowing something was up. He could tell Lauren was properly glowing, but knew he would have to let this play out if he wanted to get any information out of his friend.

“Lauren! It’s great to see you. I’ve been great. I went to see a nutritionist, and I’ve been trying to join some virtual support groups for people with eating disorders. I still have a long road ahead of me, and I have to put in the work, but thanks for calling me out on my bullshit. Truly” he said sincerely.

Lauren perked up even more, rising to her feet and reaching around Iggy’s desk to hug him. “Iggy! That’s great! I’m so glad to hear it, and I’m so proud of you. And hey, you called me out on my bullshit when I was using, so it was only fair I did the same” she smiled.

Iggy returned her smile, glad to see that both of them were making amends and working to improve their lives.

He rose up to start walking to his next consult, not wanting this conversation to end but really needing to get there on time. After Lauren followed him along, curiosity finally got the best of him. “Okay, I have to ask... What’s gotten into you? You look like you just got to perform one of your supper cool surgeries or something. Anything new?” he asked.

“Well, I’m doing well” she said as they strolled down New Amsterdam’s corridors. Iggy waited patiently, letting Lauren open up at her own speed. “And... and I got a roommate!”

Iggy frowned, perplexed. He knew Lauren, knew how much she valued her space and how closed-off she could be, so he couldn’t fathom why getting a roommate would be something she’d want to do, let alone be the cause of her exuberant joy. “Wha... How?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a long story, really. She came in with a patient, and kind of guessed what was wrong with her, but it turned out it wasn’t a guess, cause she’s really a doctor, but obviously I didn’t know that” she started rambling, with Iggy finding it hard to follow along.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down” he said, though he was glad to see Lauren so excited about something.

“Yeah, sorry. Basically, she pulled off a successful needle decompression in my ED, which I now admit was pretty cool, I called security, she had no place to stay, used the hospital closet for a while... And now she’s living with me” finished Lauren, looking way too satisfied by her explanation.

“She... You... What?!” asked Iggy, dumbfounded.

“Yeah... She’s kind of a lot. In the good way” said Lauren, and it was clear to Iggy by now that she was positively smitten. At this new information, he changed tactics.

“Wow, Lauren, that’s a huge step! I’m happy for you, and so proud. I’d love to meet her sometime” he said.

“Yeah! That’d be great! I’m sure you’d love her, once you get past her cranky façade. You two would totally get along” replied Lauren excitedly.

Iggy knew how possessive Lauren was of her space, knew how much it meant for her to have friends meet even if she may not do it consciously. The fact that she was agreeing to let him meet her meant he was right; Lauren was smitten beyond recognition.

“Great! And what’s it like, living with this...” he trailed off, hoping to get a name out of Lauren for once.

“Leyla! It’s great. Yesterday I cooked her some Pakistani dinner, cause she missed it from back home, and then we watched a comedy and watered our big-ass tree. Don’t ask. It’s like she’s lived with me all along” she finished bashfully.

And Iggy had to assume Lauren knew how this sounded, how many lesbian stereotypes she was ticking off. So he replied, amusedly, “Tell me, Lauren, does this Leyla know you two are dating?” he said, a mischiveous twinkle in his eye.

Lauren stopped abruptly in the corridor, a horrified look on her face. Iggy repressed a laugh, was thrilled by Lauren’s new baby-gay side. He turned around to look at her, saw her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as she searched for a reply, but continued walking backwards. “Wait... do you?” he asked, now enjoying Lauren’s alarmed look. He turned around a corner, leaving a dumbfounded Lauren behind, and shouted, “Good luck!”

Squirrelpaw’s Secret

“Squirrelpaw, where are you going?”

Sandstorm’s head jerked up as she heard the exasperated call of Dustpelt. Squirrelpaw was always getting into trouble, and Firestar figured a firm cat like Dustpelt would be able to handle the boisterous young cat. However, in the short moon that he’d been mentoring Squirrelpaw, he’d become increasingly frustrated with the younger cat’s inability to focus. Sandstorm barely caught a glimpse of her son before his ginger pelt disappeared into the brush.

“Squirrelpaw!”

Dustpelt was about to go after his apprentice, but Sandstorm leapt to her paws and halted him. Dustpelt stumbled back.

“He’s giving you trouble again?” Sandstorm sighed.

“As per usual,” her old friend grumbled. “I’m doing my best, Sandstorm, but it never seems to be enough with him. He won’t listen to me. Maybe Firestar should give him a different mentor.”

Sandstorm had considered this before, though something told her that Dustpelt wasn’t the problem here. In spite of the rocky relationship Dustpelt and Firestar shared, the tabby tom had never been cruel to Firestar’s kits. In fact, Dustpelt had seemed excited to mentor Squirrelpaw. Squirrelpaw had no reason to be so uncompromising with his mentor.

“I’ll go speak with Squirrelpaw,” Sandstorm stated. “He has to listen to his mother.”

“Good luck,” Dustpelt scoffed.

The tom turned around, and headed straight for the nursery. He took every opportunity he could to visit Ferncloud and their newborn kits. Sandstorm turned the other way and ventured into the forest. She raised her muzzle and sniffed the air for her son’s scent.

“Squirrelpaw?” She called as she patrolled the woods.

Finally, Sandstorm caught sight of Squirrelpaw’s striking ginger pelt. He was hunched over a puddle, his thick tail coiled tightly around his paws. Sandstorm stepped gingerly over to him.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. Don’t you know to come to your mother when she calls you?” Sandstorm scolded.

“Sorry,” mumbled the younger cat.

“Don’t apologize to me,” snapped Sandstorm. “Apologize to Dustpelt. He’s been trying everything to train you, and you won’t even let him help you!”

Squirrelpaw shut his eyes tightly. Sandstorm sighed. She could tell he was distraught, and decided that reprimanding him wasn’t going to help him right now.

“Squirrelpaw, this isn’t like you. You were such a happy kit. A pawful, sure, but you were always sweet. Now all you do is pick fights — Brambleclaw, Dustpelt, Spiderpaw — the list goes on. What happened?”

Squirrelpaw turned to face his mother, his green eyes wide and glassy.

“Mom, do you think Starclan makes mistakes?”

Sandstorm flicked her ear, taken aback by the question. “What?”

“Dustpelt says they don’t,” Squirrelpaw went on. “Leafpaw says so, too.”

Sandstorm considered for a moment. She’d been raised to believe Starclan always had the clans best interest at heart, that everything they did was for a reason. But there were certainly times when she’d failed to understand their reasoning.

“I don’t know,” Sandstorm finally replied. “I’m no medicine cat.”

Squirrelpaw turned back to the puddle, gazing intently down at it. He wrinkled his nose and flicked his paw into their water, sending ripples through it and distorting his reflection.

“Why do you ask?” Sandstorm pressed.

“Maybe some toms,” Squirrelpaw’s voice became strained. “Aren’t meant to be toms.”

Sandstorm blinked. “Squirrelpaw?”

“I don’t want to be a warrior if I’m going to be a tom,” Squirrelpaw explained softly. “It isn’t right.”

“Oh,” Sandstorm mewed. “Then...?”

“I’m a she-cat,” Squirrelpaw declared.

“Is that what this is all about?” Sandstorm shook her head. “Squirrelpaw, you could have told me before.”

“I thought you’d think I was crazy,” Squirrelpaw mumbled, flicking a pebbles across the forest floor. “I overheard some Riverclan apprentices at the last gathering talking about cats like me. They say I’m defying Starclan’s will.”

“Since when do you listen to the likes of a bunch of fishbrained Riverclan cats?” Sandstorm swatted Squirrelpaw’s ear playfully, but received little response. “They’re wrong.”

“How do you know?” Squirrelpaw asked, looking up at her mother with a tired face.

Sandstorm hated seeing her daughter like this. She hated that she hadn’t realized what was going on earlier so that she could have been supporting Squirrelpaw. Sandstorm wrapped her tail around her kit and licked her ear affectionately.

“Do you remember the nursery tales I used to tell you and Leafpaw about my father, Redtail?” Sandstorm asked.

Squirrelpaw nodded.

“He was like you, too. He was born a molly, but he realized that wasn’t who he really was. So he told Bluestar that he was a tom — that he always had been — and you know what she did?”

“What?”

“She thanked him for telling her, and eventually, made him her deputy. He served with Bluestar for many moons, and was one of Thunderclan’s wisest and bravest warriors. Do you think Starclan would have given him the strength he had if they didn’t approve of him?”

“I guess not,” Squirrelpaw conceded.

“Even so,” Sandstorm continued. “Starclan doesn’t control you, Squirrelpaw. They may guide you, but you’re the only one who can say who you are. And if I know my daughter, I know she’s never been one to listen to anyone but herself.”

Squirrelpaw chuckled quietly.

“When you’re ready, we’ll tell your father and the rest of the clan. Okay?”

“Okay,” Squirrelpaw agreed.

They were silent for a moment before Squirrelpaw buried her muzzle into her mother’s chest.

“Thank you, momma,” Squirrelpaw mewed.

Sandstorm pressed her nose to her daughter’s head lovingly. “I’m proud of you.”

They sat nestled together in silence for a moment, then Sandstorm piped up.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, though. You are going to have a long talk with your father and I about your behavior and you are going to apologize to Dustpelt.”

“Okay,” Squirrelpaw nodded against her mother’s chest.

Sandstorm was surprised by her daughter’s oddly agreeable attitude, but she certainly didn’t mind it.

“Are you ready to go back to camp?” prodded Sandstorm gently. “I’ll let you pick something from the fresh kill pile and tell Dustpelt you’ll be ready to train again tomorrow.”

“Can we stay here a little longer?” Squirrelpaw asked.

“Okay.”

Sandstorm licked her daughter’s head, then rested her chin on it. She shut her eyes, curling her tail around Squirrelpaw. In that moment, she swore had caught a drift of her father’s scent.

(A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed this mini fix about Sandstorm and Squirrelpaw! If you don’t know, I headcanon Squirrelflight as trans mtf, and I thought it would be cool for Sandstorm, who’s dad was trans, to react to Squirrelpaw being trans as well. She’s a good supportive mom.)