#once I saw the lodge I noped out of there

[seabeck]

Mushrooms, a lichen, a frog a beaver lodge, and a bog

#once I saw the lodge I noped out of there #had dog with me #thankfully the beavers didn’t come out but it’s clear they still lived there #mushrooms #fungi #lichen

[fwckriley]

The Missing Wolf Tee

═════════════════════════

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

═════════════════════════

It was a calmly morning. She woke up feeling extremely unwell. Her night had been terrible. One way she coped on these bad days was to seek comfort in small things. So, she took out a large navy blue shirt with a wolf print from her wardrobe. She sniffed the shirt for a moment, still sensing his scent on the fabric.

Once she got all set, she thought about going out for a bit to get some fresh air, smoke a cigarette, and take a walk to sort out her thoughts. After the walk, she went back inside the lodge. The place was empty, most of the soldiers were out. Still wearing her coat, she collapsed onto the couch and fell asleep.

Nearly half an hour later, she woke up to the sound of the door slamming. She quickly composed herself when she caught a glimpse of Simon's figure from the corner of her eye, and then she relaxed. He sat down next to her on the couch, completely silent. Automatically, she decided to take off her coat. But as she did, she remembered she was wearing one of his shirts, his favorite shirt, that she had stolen during one of their hookups. She put the coat back on, but it was too late; Simon had already seen his shirt. She swallowed hard and stayed quiet.

Simon raises an eyebrow, his eyes observing her, checking her out before saying: "Is that one of my shirts?" He asks casually, his voice raspy and deep.

"Nope... It's mine. I guess it just looks kinda the same." She lied, trying to get out of that situation, but she knew him. She knew he was smart and wouldn't buy her lie.

"Are you sure it's not mine?" He asks again, his penetrating gaze still fixed on her. She can see his eyes squinting, a result of a smile, so subtle that only she can notice. He knows she's not being honest, but he's letting her get away with it for now.

"Why would I be wearing one of your clothes?" She tries to play dumb.

Normally, she wouldn't mind if it were one of her affairs, but Simon was more than just that, even though their situation was a bit odd. And the fact that she liked wearing his clothes, because the smell and the memory of him brought comfort, brought forth feelings that neither of them dared to discuss.

"You tell me," he calmly replies, his eyes fixed on her. He doesn't show any emotion. He watches her reaction closely for a moment before speaking again, "I don't mind that you borrowed it."

"I didn't borrow it," she says defensively.

"So, you stole it." Simon's voice is dry, seems emotionless, but she can feel a hint of mockery in his tone.

She let out an exasperated sigh. She seemed offended, even though she was guilty. "I didn't steal anything." Her voice comes out more shrill than she intended.

"So, how did you get your hands on it? 'Cause I don't remember giving you any of my shirts." Simon leans back on the couch, trying to hide the small smile growing on his face, which, despite wearing his balaclava, was visible in his eyes. "Did you simply find it lying around?" He continues, teasing her.

She rolls her eyes, grumbling. "It just showed up in my stuff, not my fault."

She had totally planned to swipe his shirt the moment she laid her eyes on it.

"You're not a great liar, you know." Simon's voice sounds amused, but there's a hint of affection in his tone. He watches her for a moment, and then he adds: "You know, you could've just asked me if you wanted it."

"Can I keep it?" She asks softly, like a kid begging for a toy she saw in the store.

Simon looks at her for a long moment, before letting out a sigh and nodding, turning his face to the side. "Yeah, sure." His tone is softer now. He is not used to sharing with others or giving anything away to anyone. But for her, he makes a small exception.

She smiles secretly, bumping her knees against his. Like a 'thanks.'

As usual, Simon remains stoic and doesn't react to her touch, even though the gesture makes him feel a little warmer inside. He doesn't say anything, but she can see the faint smile that reaches his eyes remains even after she pulls her knees back.

#modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley headcanons #call of duty mw2 #cod x reader #cod imagine #simon riley x y/n #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley headcanons

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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[boydykedevo]

Day three of @tazsapphicweek, for the prompt "monsters"!

(Heads up this is like. Vaguely horny. so. be aware dfljakfhjhadfsl)

ao3

--

“Do you, like, actually drink blood?” 

Dani’s on the verge of dozing off, curled into Aubrey’s side, when the question jolts her awake. She snaps up, blinking to reorient herself and squinting at Aubrey. “Huh?”

Her face goes warm, realizing how close she got to falling asleep on top of Aubrey in front of everyone. Well, not everyone, she amends, whipping her head around to find the main lobby of the lodge empty save for the two of them cuddled on the couch. Not anyone, actually.  

Still, the other residents could walk in at any time, and Jake would taunt her for weeks if he saw them like this. “Cuddling’s like third base for humans, isn’t it?” he’d say, as if she has any idea. 

Aubrey grins sheepishly. “Is that a rude question? Sorry.”

Dani shifts herself to a sitting position, shaking her head. “No, no, you’re good, I… no. I don’t.”

Aubrey’s face falls. 

Shocked, Dani asks, “did you want me to say yes?”

At that, Aubrey becomes visibly flustered, averting her gaze. Dani resists a laugh. “Well. It would be kinda cool.”

Dani smirks and scoots closer, only succeeding in making Aubrey more nervous. “Uh huh. Cool how?”

“Um.” She plays with her zipper, running it up and down repeatedly. “You’re really… pretty. Like, super fucking pretty. And…” she exhales slowly. Dani’s eyebrows raise so high it feels like they might fly off her face. “So sue me, I like the idea of a pretty girl sucking on my neck.”

Dani can’t help it; she bursts out laughing. Aubrey looks mortified, and at least a little offended. 

“Noooo, don’t worry, it’s totally cool,” Dani assures her once she gets her laughter under control. Impulsively, she leans in to whisper in Aubrey’s ear, “and it’s not like I need vampire powers to do that, babe.” There’s a thrill in her belly to hear the squeak Aubrey lets out, and she double checks the room is empty before pressing her lips to Aubrey’s jaw. 

Aubrey lets out a shaky breath as Dani moves lower on her neck. She clears her throat and points out, voice a little strained, “but vampire powers would make it better.”

Dani hums in vague agreement, slipping off her ring. Aubrey whimpers when she feels Dani’s sharp teeth against her skin. Dani finds she fucking loves that sound. They haven’t gone much further than this, not yet, but she can’t help but wonder…

“Okay,” Aubrey agrees. “That works. Yep. Wow.” There’s a beat of silence, punctuated by Aubrey’s heavy breathing as Dani keeps nipping at her, and then Aubrey pipes up: “How about vampiric hypnosis?” 

Dani laughs, pulling away. “Nope. Sorry, babe.”

Aubrey pouts. “Do you have any sexy vampire stuff? I mean, teeth, obviously, but besides that.” She thinks for a moment, then adds, “I’ll also take sexy alien stuff.”

Dani doesn’t bother to point out that, in her case, it’s the same thing. Instead, she triple checks the room is empty and leans in close to Aubrey’s ear. “Well… how much do you know about slyph reproduction?”

Aubrey’s breath hitches. “Not much,” she admits breathlessly.

“How would you like to learn?” Dani’s kissing her before Aubrey can respond, not that she needs to hear her answer. Aubrey’s ready for her, wrapping her arms around Dani’s shoulders. Dani nips her lip and Aubrey whimpers again and sweet Slyvain that’s hot; she’s kneeling over Aubrey’s lap before she even knows it, pressing right up against her—

Just then, there’s a voice from the doorway. “Mama!” Jake loudly complains. “Dani and Aubrey are banging in the lobby!”

They jump apart, Mama’s laughter echoing from the other room. “I’d say get a room, girls,” she calls back, “but you’ve already got two of ‘em between the both of you. Make it work.”

Aubrey throws her hands over her face, and Dani has to grin, even as she feels her ears turn bright red. “Mine?” she offers.

“Yes,” Aubrey squeaks. “Please.”

#taz #danbrey #taz sapphic week #taz amnesty #my fics #icarus is talking

[lampmanliveblogs]

This is so sweet, I love them almost as much as they love each other.

The sweet moment is interrupted by Hunter, who apparently spotted Eda & King riding on shooting star. The pursue on their staffs, Camila getting a ride from Amity and perfectly representing what I think 99.8% of all people would be like the first time they rode of a flying staff.

They land in Bonesborough, finding it to be abandoned and desolate. There are signs of life, with yet more graffiti and vandalism that has taken place since after the Day of Unity. In this screenshot in particular, there is a drawing of The Collector’s symbol, as well as warnings to run and hide or ”they” will find you. Presumably, those star minions The Collector sent out before. Most doors and windows are also boarded up, to keep those minions out.

There is something about how this is an almost post-apocalyptic scenario that is symbolized by a bunch of bright, colorful cartoon stars being lodged in the ground, roofs, and walls everywhere that I find… entertaining, I guess? Not sure how to describe it.

I don’t know what it is about this image, but it makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up. Or maybe I just need to lower my screen brightness.

…NOPE! Still utterly terrifying and horrifying and a bunch of other synonyms for ”disturbing” and ”scary.”

Hunter noticed a wall of sparkles come flying towards them ,and the gang narrowly managed to tae cover before a huge wave of magic washed over the town square. The result once it subsided was this sugar pink nightmare. Just like what we saw happen with Hooty and Lilith earlier, we see here that at least a good portion of the Boiling Isles’ population has been turned into puppets.

I’m pretty sure that’s one of Willow’s dads there on the left. And once the camera pans a bit to the right, I spot two students from Hexside.

So. Does this mean The Collector and King are close by, brought here during their game of Owl House? And The Collector decided to spruce up the place a little so it wouldn’t look so drab and miserable?

Hurray! The easily manipulated god is here to save us from the situation he… put us in… huh.

I was right, The Collector, and King were in the neighborhood and this is all part of the game. The Collector arranged for this nice, idyllic town to be attacked by the horrible Owlbeast so that he and King could swoop in and save the day!

I gotta say, this image actually goes kinda hard. And you know what? I chose to believe that in this one instance, the background music is diegetic. If The Collector can conjure up everything else, then they can make some heroic music to underscore this triumphant moment.

(so, uh… Eda’s looking a lot more… faceless than usual. what’s up with that?)

…turns out that what was up with that was that that was not Eda at all. Not even the Owlbeast, but rather Terra in disguise.

I legitimately burst out laughing when I saw this. This was so funny to me.

On a slightly more relevant note… The Collector uses a ”light glyph” to subdue the beast and make it turn back to normal. Kinda like how Luz in The Intruder used her newly discovered light glyph to make Eda turn back to normal. I do wonder, I do wonder… it’d be kinda interesting if The Collector and King’s game of Owl House actually paralleled the plot of The Owl House. It’d kinda make sense for King to use story beats inspired by the real adventures of him and his family.

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #for the future #toh s3e2

[redwayfarers]

Howlers and minstrels in the night

Fandom: FFXIV Ship: Nika/Ianera Characters: Nika Perseis (OC), Ianera Maliriq (OC) Words: 772 Rating: Gen Summary: It's Nika's first night in Camp Dragonhead and he feels very out of sorts. Ianera is there to take care of him. Author's note: Once more, I am very baby into this game and this is all prone to change if I see fit in the future. That being said, I like how this came out, so I'm posting it!

The wind howls. The night they seem to have chosen to arrive at Camp Dragonhead is particularly sharp and particularly cold and Nika can’t help but feel grateful at Lord Haurchefant’s offer of hearth, dinner and tea. Ianera agrees, nodding along to whatever he says, and sometimes, he wishes she’d speak up in his place. However nice Haurchefant may be, one nice Ishgardian can’t rub away all of the soreness of his nerves left by his countrymen. 

Well, Ishgardians and so many other things. It all almost makes him snap, but he restrains his anger. Yet he can’t guarantee that the smiles he threw their way were anything pleasant.

One thing at the time, though. They met the guy, they were led to their lodging for the night at the very least, they fell fast asleep from exhaustion on the road. At least, until Nika’s own head decided to torment him, thus promptly cutting his rest short. 

No, he doesn’t want to talk about it. Just like he doesn’t want to talk about the bodies in Vesper Bay. Just how he doesn’t want to talk about how he saw the Perseis surname in Adama Landama graveyard and he didn’t want to look at the name, for fear it's his father’s grave and that his father now saw him break like a child’s toy and that he’d laugh, even if he knows full well his father’s not buried in ass end of nowhere. 

Nope, he has no fucking desire to talk about things at all. 

And now he’s waiting for the sun to rise, lute in hand, while the wind howls around him like a mad wolf. He sees a guard shift at the gates. He holds the lute tighter, in lieu of squeezing it to his chest. His head and feet hurt, and he wants to cry. It will make his headache worse. He wants to cry anyway. His body feels like a prison and like something wants to claw out, but he blinks the tears away anyway. 

He holds the lute tighter. His nails, long overdue for a cut, press against the wood. Wind plays a horrible tune, plucking strings at will. It’s a cacophony and he almost regrets bringing it out with him, but it’s the only thing of comfort he can think of. It’s the only thing keeping him from breaking down again. 

Nika closes his eyes and wills all this shit away. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” A somber, gentle voice rings against the racket of noise, and Nika audibly breathes out. With a sharp turn, he sees Nera wrap herself in a woolen coat Lord Haurchefant provided them with, oversized on her small body. 

“I.. I’m tired,” he says softly. There’s no reply for a long time; part of him thinks the wind swallowed it. It’s funny, how he was just about ready to scream at Ishgard lords only hours ago, but now his voice is drowned in the night. 

“It haunts me too,” Nera says as she steps out. Her words are small and shaky, yet Nika feels them like a blow. From afar, the night swallows her, but her eyes, silver and gold, breach the picture she presents. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he bites out. It’s harsh, it’s rough, but he can’t look her in the eye otherwise. 

“Go back to sleep, then,” she asks, makes a few steps forward. Blue, blue, all the blues of her hair and skin, like the waters of Lominsa, where his moms sleep. 

“Let me be, Nera,” he huffs, “I’m–” He takes a deep breath in. His eyes prickle and burn. “I’m just–” 

“It haunts me too,” she repeats. He feels the pressure of her forehead against his arm and the warm touch of her fingers on his hand. “Go back inside, Nika. Your fingers are cold.” 

“I’m tired, but I don’t want to fall asleep,” he admits and lowers his eyes to his feet. Shame burns like poison. 

“You don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to,” he can hear the frown in her voice, “but just come inside.” 

“It is freezing outside,” he agrees. Her fingers play with his, and he could just rest his head on hers if he leaned down far enough– “I– Alright. It’s cold and lonely outside.” 

Nera simply smiles against his arm. 

He does sleep that morning, against all earlier claims to not wanting to. He can blame it on his tired body, or the comfort of her embrace that he knows she needed too, but when he wakes up again, the wind doesn’t howl quite so loudly anymore.  

#ffxiv #inspo birb has come to town #nika perseis #ianera maliriq #nika x ianera #ffxiv wol #wol x oc #idk the tags of this fandom yet rip #but also. i'm so happy i finally figured nera out a bit #ffxiv fic #ignore the corny title im bad at titling but this one i like lmao #for those who haven't seen my oc page yet nera is an au ra! hence all the blues mentioned here #og design was red/blue but that's valerian :') #and nika and valerian would eat each other alive i feel like

[little-box-of-autism]

🚑 🎫 🚼 🔞 🐶 😔 😡 😏 😈 💪

Is there a limit to how many? I just copied and pasted the bottom 10

(there is no limit, I have fun with this)

🚑 Have you ever driven in an ambulance before?

Yes, more than once actually. Twice as a little kid for swallowing a quarter (lodged in my foot pipe) and then cutting open the entire back of my calf. Three times as an adult for 2 separate asthma attacks and then once because (we assume) an ovarian cyst blew up inside me.

I am Canadian so it was like $40 dollars.

🎫 Do you have a license?

For driving? Nope, never even took the test. ADHD/Autism in my situation isn't conductive to being a decent driver.

I *think* I have an outdoors card for fishing?

🚼 Do you have or want kids?

No

I don't mind kids, I adore my cousins* but I am very aware that my disabilities would not make me a suitable parent, especially to a young child. At one point I had considered becoming a foster parent since my city has a foster program that is meant to help queer foster kids find safe and accepting homes, but with how things are in Ontario for someone who is on ODSP, I am likely not going to be in a position to ever be able to foster.

🔞Are you under 18?

Nope I am a proud 2000's baby so I'm 22 but I turn 23 at the end of May.

🐶 Do you have a pet?

I have 3 technically. Two German Shepherds named Ziva and Astro, and a cat (who is more my moms than mine) named Max.

There is a stray (or I think he's a stray, he's uncollared and not fixed) that showed up at my house recently who's friendly considering my dad could pet him.

(I have a semi-immunity when it comes to animals according to relatives, what it means idk, but I did pick up Mississauga rattlesnakes once without getting bitten, so they have valid reasons for that belief.)

😔 Something that makes you sad?

That's complicated because it's never super clear. Father/child relationships are a big one for me, I've noticed, but also character deaths can really get me. I cried when I saw Battle of the Five Armies in theatres and saw Kili, Fili, and Thorin die. Generally family angst is what gets me.

Pittance of Time by Terry Kelly will make me cry without fail.

😡 What pisses me off?

Again that's complicated. I don't get angry often. I get frustrated, agitated and annoyed but rarely do I express actual anger.

When I do, it usually ties in with my autism because some things just don't make sense to me and no matter how they are explained, I can't get them.

Wilful ignorance also ticks me off.

😏 What turns me on?

So I'm asexual, or at least on the asexuality spectrum, so this isn't really something I have an answer too lol. I enjoy certain dynamics that usually all have a level of protector/protected at their core.

😈 Are you a freak?

Probably. I am a weird person in general, and a distant relative did once make a joke about me being a changeling child, so take of that what you will.

I have shared with @alexihollis some of the weirder shit I've said or done in my life but if someone wants some examples, I am open to providing some within certain limitations.

But calling me abnormal, or freaky, would be pretty accurate.

💪 Do you work out?

No, not currently. I should considering I have a gym membership.

#emoji asks #i am sorry if my answers are confusing #i tend to be confusing

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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[aealrizen]

“You sure he’s gonna be alright?” Midas’ voice was quiet, but he still felt like it echoed too loud in the concrete cave they were in. It wasn’t actually a cave, but the transport storage area on the edge of the Andapos city felt like one. Apparently the ones inside the city were made of metal, and other more expensive material. But for the one visitors used they had chosen to use undecorated, cracking and chipped concrete. The material didn’t bother Midas, but having driven up to such a huge city had. He didn’t have any good experiences with people of cities that weren’t breaking apart and holed away in the ruins.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Ian assured, glancing over his shoulder as they walked the two bikes they had to the stalls they had been directed to. Whip was long out of sight, but it was still an unconscious motion to look for him since he was the person of topic. “Andapos is only really aggressive towards those with allegiances. Cerah, and even Eutoli people are met with wariness. But those who aren’t allied with anyone they tend to be a little more polite to.”

Midas’ expression scrunched up in confusion at that revelation. “..... I would think the ones without allegiances would be trusted the least,” he admitted. They were more unpredictable, weren’t they? At least that’s the impression he’d gotten from Cerah. The people there had always made a big fuss over him not knowing where he was from, or wanted to stay.

“Most people think that. But their opinion is if they’re unaligned, then they might be persuaded to join Anadapos if it’s appealing enough to them from the people being nice,” Ian explained, giving a wink that Midas only saw from the motion of his cheek.

Snorting, Midas couldn’t argue too much with that logic. “Fair enough.” He just hoped the people didn’t end up joining Andapos, only to have people start being jerks to them instead.

Once they had their bikes secured in the bays, with Midas squinting carefully to make sure his bike actually was secure, they headed towards the entrance gate to the city. A stark contrast from the transport bay, the walls and gate itself were made of thick blocks of solid metal. Deadbolt locks secured the dropdown vehicle door as well as the pedestrian door next to it. And next to that was a receptionist behind a glass barrier, who was giving an exasperated look at Whip in front of him.

“Look, I have more guests coming, so if you could step aside and fill out the proper forms. We have lodging if you’re concerned about the wait,” the receptionist could be heard almost scolding Whip.

At the mention of other guests, Whip turned to see who it was and got both an exasperated expression of his own as well as a sigh of relief. “There you are!” he chimed, then held up a card that Midas remembered being pale green before, but was now a soft red. “It expired 14 years ago. Can you believe that? Apparently they updated the customs and now they only last for 8 years instead of 20.”

“Oh? That’s too bad. Maybe we’ll have to renew your pass while we’re here. We can probably fill out the forms on the way.” Ian didn’t seem worried at all despite Whip having admitted that he was locked out of the city until he could complete a new application for travel passage. “Did you at least figure out where we need to go?” Ian then asked, moving to stand in front of the receptionist window now.

“Nope. He wouldn’t tell me.” Whip shrugged, not all that bothered. Then his expression changed to a mischievous one when the receptionist asked for Ian to present his travel card. “I bet he’ll tell you though.”

The comment earned a narrowed look from the receptionist, not thinking he would be any less strict with his information just because the visitor’s buddies showed up. “... I bet you’re wrong-” HIs protest cut off abruptly when Ian placed his palm on the reader instead of a card, and the screen flashed green before a greeting phrase appeared on the window between them.

Welcome Lieutenant Colonel Ian Llavel.

With the greeting the pedestrian door through the entrance gate beeped twice, letting Ian know he was free to enter when he was ready. The receptionist on the other hand was abruptly jumping to his feet and raising a hand in salute. “My apologies, sir!” he started, but was cut off again when Ian raised his hand to quiet him.

“Please register that I have two guests with me, Callil and Midas, and that we’re looking for secure passage to Eutoli,” Ian interrupted calmly, not wanting to make a fuss over something that was very much old news.

“Yes, sir!” the receptionist belted, but didn’t move to complete the request.

“Can you also let us know where we should go for that, and who to talk to? I assume Brigadier General Valin is no longer in service,” Ian prodded, ignoring Whip’s growing smile behind him.

“Sir, Brigadier General Valin has not been in service for more than 30 years now. The current intercity affairs is handled by it’s own department. This portable map can lead you to the office where you can speak with Secretary Benjamin Morna. He’ll be able to help you,” the receptionist responded, doing well to hide his reluctance out of spite to Whip as he retrieved a small tablet map and slid it into the compartment to allow Ian to take it.

“Morna? Isn’t that Aina’s last name?” Midas whispered to Whip, letting Ian thank the receptionist before gesturing for them to head inside.

“Mmmm, yeah. But lots of people can have the same last name. I’m not sure they’re related,” Whip confirmed, shrugging again. Based on his mannerisms though, Midas wasn’t so sure the secretary wasn’t related. Otherwise Whip wouldn’t seem so nervous about it.

_______________________________

I have has 2% of a brain these days ._.

Who knew that there was a point when your brain just stopped wanting to come up with things even though body is fine.

#Rizen #original characters #original story #ocs #web light novel #sci fi #cyborg #semi slice of life #Midas #post apocalypse

[biking-the-erie-canal]

Hearts a-beating

Google Maps said it was an 17 minute bike ride from the apartment to the Albany-Rensselaer Amtrak station. Yesterday, half-joking, half-serious, I asked Rob whether we should checkout the ride to the station. We didn’t, but this morning I was wishing we had.

Our train departure was scheduled for 6:55am from Albany. Our plan was to leave the AirBnb between 5:30 and 5:45. We were up and out by 5:30, so all good from that perspective. It was dark, cool, and the streets were pretty empty. We were retracing part our walking tour on bikes….down State Street - the Capitol on the left, The Egg and other government buildings on the right. With the night glow of the buildings, it was quite pretty, and it felt like a nice ending.

We followed the navigation on down to the bike trail on the Hudson River, but soon realized something was wrong. We were below the bridge we needed to be on to across the Hudson. We went south on the bike trail a bit more thinking there might be another entrance to the bridge system from the south. Nope. We went back around to try again. It’s still dark, but this time we saw where the on-ramp was blocked and the signs for the Rensselaer bike detour. We went left this time until we got to the on-ramp which took us up this narrow, makeshift bike lane going against traffic. We have not been biking too many hills this past week, and my legs are burning. Rob is in front of me yelling once in a while to just see if I am still behind him. It was nerve racking!

We started on the blue line and finished on the red.

Our first segment from Albany to NYC was on time, and we did make it with time to spare. Even time to buy coffee, the essential ingredient of Rob’s morning.

Leaving Penn at Moynihan Hall was a bit delayed. I still love that we could see this beautiful glass roof from our apartment rooftop back in the day. That building is now behind the left tower that you can barely see through the glass. We are at least pretty relaxed now!

We had a chance to reflect on some of the most memorial parts of the trip. If they are not written down now, they are lost forever.

Favorite meal: Cindy - Chicken Parmesan at Tres Pines Restaurant in Canastota. Rob - Hamburger at B L’s Tavern in Schenectady.

Favorite local beer: Cindy - Utica Club at Saranac Biergarten and B L’s Tavern. Rob - Old Klaverack October Fest bought at Lark Tavern in Albany. (The brewery is south of Albany.)

Favorite riding segment: Loved them all, but Lockport to Holley (wind at our back and smooth riding) and Utica to Canajoharie (smooth trails in the Mohawk Valley) were standouts.

Favorite diversions: Could not narrow this down, so here goes - Watching boats go through the locks. Cahoes Falls was pretty spectacular too. Friendly Bake Shop in Frankfort. Skaneateles Lake (Oh man, that reminds me of the Tuna Napoleon salad at Blue Water Grill. That was fantastic too.)

What we did right: We did well on packing light with the right amount of cloths for 2 weeks. Going to the laundry mat every three days worked out well. Laundry detergent sheets are the bomb for light packing. I think I only had one pair of leggings that I didn’t wear which was packed for cooler weather.

What we would do different: Would prefer to book lodging as we go after better understanding our pace. Originally I was just going to book the first few days but got nervous when so many of the B&B had closed during COVID. I could have relied more on AirBnb if needed. Also, staying in a room in a house worked well and that helps keep the cost lower when you don’t need a whole multi-bedroom house. Also - and a big one - we should have checked the distance and elevation between the trail and the lodging more closely.

Most grateful for: Meeting some great people along the way - on the trails and in the towns (read bars). You know who you are! Also, we are also happy about the great weather and zero flat tires! On the last day heading to Albany, we had a few drops of rain but that was all while on the trail.

What’s next?: Not sure, but a new idea got planted this trip - NYC to Montreal. It is about the same amount of miles. It goes straight up the Hudson Valley, and we heard a few rave reviews. We will see.

[the-firebird69]

We see him too gross sea hag bitch Ellie. Out if the family too. We send her letters all the time no longer has this name. Macs do it more. Her accounts frozen her stuff siezed

We sue.

Now the ocean is settled no. It's dropping rapidly. Ten miles out no. 140 plus 100 yes to the bottom middle now. Another thousand no 1500. Totalling 5000 feet....then the middle about 300 miles across will drop, 1000 feet. Total depth now 7500 feet. Deep sea creatures will move in and bother you lots often. You hunt them. Yes. They hunt you yes are hard to kill. Even with special. The ships appeared hid thier number me and a five mile lampilier I at ten miles when straightened. They hollowed it over and over what are you going to do now John remillard. The demon knew the tongue looked down tried to dig. Nope not soft only two miles. Knew of a door nope.

So I was angered had it call his buds. Lunch a feast. They were excited saw how then ok we match. I hit fast ten twenty thousand and then a million. Mine rushed in. They sank into the abyss yes even 20's and then this. They explode when you eat them. Asked me how to zap I showed two together. I scanned a bunch most went off. Some small ones no. He thanked us. We left full dragged the ships away

Without them we would hv lost

The Kraken says

And it moves...falls in sequence....100 feet a time and all at once. All now up to the pan handle.

They choke how long until the bottom and it's partial but maybe hours. The daimonds fell. All ten. They fight try fail. And it will start falling rapidly there. The sea will erupt. Tidal waves will form hit the south. More will run to the west. The waves will range from 20' to 80' and will devour the beachfront.

Shortly too. Then the creatures move in and milyiply as did fish already. The ones close are edible now. Soon no. But farms will be ok. Close in about five or less miles. Kelp grows very fast half the new shelf floor has seedlings soon all. A huge garden

Thor Freya

Soundgarden has the song we have the rights so buy it up. Steel we show up

We sue you now Ellie and BjA. For all your worth. Now you used his name and his parents hurt them. Trump hurts them and him says they are related. You do it for stuff though it doesn't appear to work. It don't. We sue you. We tk it all. The frozen accounts and houses stuff. There's a ton of it. All John's businesses and ruin them prior to the trip. It's about 20billion in assets and cash investment and property too. Add 10billion for his businesses. Cycle racing if Jon yeh you too. Mountaineer stuff lots our son invented. Huge ideas held small on purpose to harm ours. We use it too now take the places hold them kill them all. And seek thier businesses they took his ideas and ours from them now

We finish off John remillard. But yeh some cool businesses. The restaurant idea. Ski lodge. Beer company good to eat and ski stuff ademe and more. Nice too. A new ski idea for the restaurant. Street shoe in boots on skiis. About twenty foot high thirty long forty wide it rolls up. Ice cold in it. We do that use white city in one. It's a national chain too. Now he has several of them. All our son's ideas. One w free popcorn and treats. Bring em in. Tons of ideas our son's used by Jin and on bikes. Huge racing gear co. Stuff not out will be shortly by us. His the founding company

Bitol and Goddess Wife

We see it too John remillard doesn't get it you degrade into what you really are

Thor Freya

A beast

Mac Daddy

[scandiengbergs3]

Matfors to Örebro, Sweden

OK, so I think I left off on Wednesday night, when we were in Sundsvall, Sweden, staying at what was probably once a farm house, in the traditional style.  Actually, though, we were staying outside of Sundsvall, twenty minutes away in Matfors.  So, we had the whole upstairs of this large house, as it had been separated into its own autonomous apartment.  And, while the location was sort of odd (well off the path we were on, making our way back to Gothenburg over three days), and the layout of the apartment was sort of unusual, it was really nicely appointmed and there was SO MUCH space.  And it was a really great price.  I remember when I was finding all of the lodging for our trip, I just could not find anything in Sundsvall proper -- there was, like, nothing available basically and the two places that were available were like a billion dollars a night. That is how we ended up with Matfors.

Since we got into Matfors so late on Wednesday night, we basically gave the kids a snack and then got them to bed (after Cece wrote a note to the tooth fairy), Eric and I stayed up a bit and my Dad called us by video chat, so it was nice to talk with my mom and dad and hear all about the bonanza of a cherry harvest they have on their hands!  Frankly, we were so disappointed to miss cherry season at home, and usually we wouldn’t have because it’s typically right around Eric’s birthday, but I guess things were taking their sweet time this year and running about two weeks late.   Our sweet babysitter McKenzie (who is housesitting for us and looking after Kirby so well!!) did go and picked us several bags and will freeze them so I can make all kinds of cherry delights when we get home. 

Anyway, Thursday morning in Matfors we had until noon to just relax, have a leisurely morning, and maybe get some time in the sand and water in a river or lake.  So, first, we walked in one direction from the house and we came to a river or inlet and Eric was all raring to go get into the water.  But, we turned a corner and realized there was a hydroelectric damn there.  Nope -- not the best swimming site. So, we turned around and then went the other way from the house.  Luckily, we spotted a group of school children with their teachers (probably at some sort of summer program) and they were clearly post-swim (wet hair and towels around their shoulders), so we concluded that we were on the right track.  And we were!

We were on a small but beautiful lake, with a sandy small beach and tall grass growing out of the water in one spot. Rowan got busy making a sand structure: a hollowed-out mound, with reinforcements of sticks. Cece was also finding rocks in the water and flitting and skipping through the water and eventually getting her whole self in, and kicking and splashing up a cheerful storm.  Rowan found a piece of a muscle shell that was quite large!  It was his prize find. 

Just before Eric hopped in the water, we saw a small motorboat, coming up the lake from the distance.  As it got closer, we noticed that the ship’s captain was like an eleven-year-old boy.  Another boy his age walked up to the edge of the dock and got in, got on his life vest, and off they motored.  It was cool to see their nonchalant (and perhaps underaged?) use of watercraft to get together and hang out. 

Once done with water play, we went back and --as my moms says, bibbity-bobbity-boo-- we packed up and were out of there!  We had such a long drive ahead of us.  We thought it would be five hours but it ended up being more like six.  We arrived to Örebro, Sweden, an inland industrial hub, at about 6:30 p.m. and we went to dinner at a place called La Gondola, because Cece wanted pasta and she got to pick.  But, along the way to Örebro (which was settled in something like the 1200s, if memory serves), we did stop in another small town (Hudiksvall), at like the halfway mark, and played on a school playground and hiked to the top of a hill and climbed on some rocks.  Cece plays a game that “she created” called Rockscotch, and Hudiksvall had a very good trail for the playing of Rockscotch. 

Anyway, La Gondola was interesting. We could tell from walking around central Örebro that it is a quite diverse city, ethnically.  It is actually a very large city, something like 130,000, though it didn’t really seem that big from what we saw on our first night.  But, we saw all kinds of people as we were walking around town -- first in one direction where we ended up at a pizzeria that did not serve pasta and then when we walked back the way we came and beyond in order to find a place that did serve pasta (don’t think we’ve let the kids eat pasta at every meal, as they might be wont to do if left to their own devices).  Anyway, another thing that stood our to us about Örebro was the incredible amount of construction in the town -- but, really, that was the case like everywhere in Scandinavia.  It was particularly frustrating outside central Gothenburg, but I think I already established that I got insanely lost because of these years-long construction endeavors (seriously, when we were in Gothenburg three years ago, the place was a large construction site then, too!). There is a big university in Örebro, one of the biggest in Sweden I think, and we ate right near it, so we saw a lot of college-student-aged people. 

OK, so La Gondola.  It was an Italian restaurant with a Middle Eastern flair! I got a delicious baked vegetarian pasta, which was so, so rich, and Eric got a pizza with olives and artichoke hearts, and much more, and then the kids, who wanted just pasta with chicken and cream sauce, ended up getting a cream sauce that was curry-ified.  Cece ultimately said it was delicious--but it was very yellow and that surprised the kids at first. Also, the restaurant had a free salad that was some sort of grated cabbage or chicory or endive or something.  Anyway, suffice to say, we were full at the end of our meal.  And everyone was exhausted!

Rowan is reading over my should and says I have written too much about the restaurant. 

Once we got back to the Scandic, basically the three people in the family who are not me went to bed within the hour.  I stayed up, had some peace and quiet, and repacked one of our bags.  Since we were returning the car the next day (today), we needed to consolidate.  When you’re traveling by car, you can have a few dozen different bags going, but that won’t work for train travel and especially not for air travel.  So, I started consolidating. 

OK, that is enough for now! I will tell the story of Örebro back to Gothenburg in the next post -- and our bidding adieu to our Volvo until we see her (the kids named her Marimekko) again in Albuquerque in September!

[jadedbirch]

The more I watch other things, the more I come back to The Untamed and how it's just generally Superior. Is it perfect? Nope. Do I love it with every fiber of my gay heart? Oh heck yeah. I really wanted to hurt myself again the other day, so I watched Wei Ying's death scene, both versions of it, back to back, for peak pain and Romance. And honestly, I blew my own mind. 

In the Grand Opera of The Untamed, Wei Ying's death is a leitmotif. In fact, it uses a leitmotif - Lin Hai’s Death Theme music “Ye Ben” - which swells into being at different points during the two times we are blessed to watch this scene.  (As an aside, I was so fascinated by this piece of music, that I decided to hurt myself even more by watching EVERYONE’s death scene, just so I could confirm that we also hear Ye Ben when the Jiangs, Wen Ning, and Shijie die.  Jin Zixuan is special and got his own, very haunting, death music.)

Wei Ying's death scene is climactic and transformational, presented to us in bookended repetition, but each time from a different perspective. 

When I first saw the scene in episode 1, I was mistakenly thinking it was all an outsider's perspective. The way Wei Wuxian is shot (from the side, from the back, close up of just his fist, cast in darkness), had originally fooled me. It's only now that I realize that we're actually inside Wei Wuxian's mind, which at the moment is also somewhat outside his body. Lan Wangji is a disembodied arm, a trickle of blood that paints over Wei Wuxian as he is suspended from the precipice. It's dark, lurid, and evokes the imagery of guilt.

Jiang Cheng's features are contorted in rage and hatred as he strikes out. Wei Wuxian falls, and once again we're removed from it, distanced, it isn't personal. We watch Jiang Cheng saunter away, seemingly without a care and looking complacent, before we are left in the darkness, with Lan Wangji looking down from the cliff, as Wei Wuxian falls. 

When we return to this moment in episode 33, everything has changed, including our perspective. We now get to watch Wei Ying’s final moments through Lan Zhan's eyes. His and our attention is so focused on Wei Ying, he barely notices his own wound. The light changes, and now Wei Ying is lit almost with a halo as he steps towards the edge of the cliff. He is Lan Zhan's light and that light is receding - Lan Zhan must follow it. "Wei Ying, come back." (I don't need to tell you how many tears I've shed over that line alone, I'm owed restitution!)

We now get to experience the full frontal Wang Yibo, which is honestly A LOT on any day, but in that scene, really he does everything he can with his face and so much more. #Acting. It's murderous. He's terrified, he's agonized, I actually BELIEVE he can fly. When Lan Zhan catches Wei Ying, his body slamming into that cliffside, I feel physical pain.

Even though the focus is now on Lan Zhan's face instead of his bloody arm dripping over Wei Ying, or perhaps because of it, we can feel the full weight of his anguish. He's holding Wei Ying with his hurt arm, and he's GOT him, he's NOT going to let go, even as Wei Ying begs him to.  For a moment, his hair fans out and he’s illuminated with a semi-divine glow, allowing us to catch Wei Ying’s perspective again, if only for a moment.

(Listen, it's been a million years and I'm NOT okay)

One of my favorite (i.e. masochistic) bits of rewatching these scenes is Jiang Cheng. He seems so righteous, so sure of his rage in episode 1, but as he approaches the cliff in episode 33, we see he's just a grieving boy. 

We see his trembling arm and his broken heart. We see the joy and resignation in Wei Wuxian's face as he hopes that his shidi will release him. It's a stark contrast to the blank look of episode 1. (Don't get me started on Xiao Zhan and how his face is illegal in 6 countries. I mean, who looks this good covered in blood and tears?)

Of course, as much as Jiang Cheng at this moment hates Wei Wuxian, he also loves him. Or he wouldn't hate him so much if the love wasn't there. He strikes, and lodges the sword in the side of that fateful cliff. Which, of course, allows Wei Wuxian the opportunity to do what any foolish romantic would do in his place - sacrifice himself before the entire thing comes tumbling down, taking the two idiots he loves with him. We focus on Wei Wuxian falling, eyes closing.  The final thing he sees is the two last men in the world he might have cared for, alive and safe, even if he believes they hate him. His lips fold into a Mona Lisa smile.

Thinking back to episode 1 and how detached Wei Wuxian is from his own experience, and knowing the canonical dumbass that he is (I love that dumbass to death, don't get me wrong), his actions are instinctual and he doesn't give them much thought. I think that actually makes it even more romantic. His death at that moment is a protective instinct, an involuntary bodily function, it's like breathing. It's all the more cruel and operatic an image to leave Lan Wangji with as he falls, because Lan Wangji understands exactly what happened (and will not forget or forgive for the next 16 angsty years) even if Wei Wuxian doesn't.

It's exquisite and fucked up of them to leave us with the same overhead shot from episode 1 again, only this time with the wistful voiceover of "Wei Ying…" which shatters me as the last notes of Ye Ben fade out.

GOD, I love this show, it knows how to come right for my gay life! It hurts so good! There are other shows out there that do great romance with similar tropes, but I don't know, The Untamed just hits different ❤️.

(Eternal gratitude to @significanceofmoths​ for helping to illustrate my pain. Please check out her blog.)

#the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #jiang cheng #my so called meta #long post #sorry i didn't have the heart to cut it

[wincestisasincest]

The Barrel - Ch. 1 (LOTR x Reader)

Okay, so time for a fun and sexy take on Modern Girl in Middle Earth that no one asked for - what if the Modern Girl had a gun? I wanted to try and write something where the Modern Girl in question was not completely defenseless, and had a fair amount of experience that the others lacked.

This will be very slow burn, I think.

Chapter: 1

Words: 1452

Warnings: Blood, guns (obviously)

Pairings: None (yet)

The butt of the rifle cracked against your cheek. You bit your tongue, but kept your arms rigid and eyes open. The taste of copper slithered between your teeth.

The orc staggered, his head reeling back with the force of the bullet that had just been lodged into it. His spine arched, and his arms flailed. Before he could catch his balance, his heart finished beating and he collapsed to the ground. Pungent, dark blood oozed into the dirt.

The wizard hardly flinched. His weary, sloped brow and buggish eyes were fixed on you thoughtfully. He tugged a strand of his curly brown beard - the one that had been blanched with bird crap.

You dropped your arms and let the rifle relax into the natural dent of your hands. They were clammy, but the crisp chilliness of the forest kept them from being sweaty. Everything about you, from the fresh redness pooling in your cheeks due to the recoil of the gun to the congested nose you had that made you sniff every couple of minutes, put you on the edge of sickness. And yet, here you were, shambling and corpse-like, but still upright and alive.

You stepped towards the wizard, your eyes occasionally darting back to the orc. You hadn’t registered yet that you were the one who killed it. You’d give it some time.

“Are you Radagast the Brown?”

You kept your voice monotone and deep to not risk exposing the rasp extending up the back of your throat.

“Who’s asking? Friend or foe?”

“Friend. I’m (y/n).”

“No family?”

“None that are around here. I’m, uh, not from here. If it wasn’t already obvious.”

You swayed nervously on your legs. Your combat boots were worn beyond repair, though their gaudy artificial stitching that was loosely holding them together still stuck out like a sore thumb. The black tank top clung to your body, and though you mostly kept it hidden with an oversized jacket, you couldn’t help the occasional peak of bare flesh and tight fabric. Oh, and, of course, your jeans were bright-ass blue and had a leather tag on the back with an impeccably printed logo.

“Indeed,” the wizard nodded, “I’ve never seen a bow quite like that before.”

You neither. This whole shooting business was about as new as Middle Earth. When you had woken up in a small pile of freshly fallen leaves, the gun, along with a few packages of ammo, were about 10 feet from your stiff body. You hadn’t dared to practice anything besides loading and unloading the gun, lest you run out of ammo in the middle of your hour of need. You had abstained from counting, knowing that it would just make you more nervous.

“Yeah...” you trailed, “but anyway, I know you don't know me, but you know Gandalf, right? He needs help.”

“Help? Now, there’d have to be something mighty strong that could get that old goat in trouble,” he raised an eyebrow hawkishly.

“Saruman.”

“Saruman? Well now, that can’t be.”

“He’s working with Sauron. Looking for the ring, and-”

“Hush!” he finally broke eye contact with you and warily scanned the tops of the trees. Nothing but a wall of silence.

“The forest... it’s quiet. Someone is listening. Come, come. Matters like these ought to be discussed inside,” he turned around and waved for you to follow, hustling in between long, imposing trunks that looked like they were ready to fall on you and crush the life out of you at any second.

******

You had killed the moth. Not on purpose, of course. You seemed to have fallen on it after you crashed through the sky of Middle Earth.

You could remember hearing its screams. You rolled over, looking for the source, grinding the roots further into your ribcage. When you finally saw the tiny thing flitting on the ground, trying to get your attention, you dumbly watched its crushed wings and snapped legs twitch with jolts of desperation.

“I have a message! A message for Radagast the Brown! Friend of the Eagles! You must take it in my stead - it is urgent. The fate of Gandalf the Gray depends on it.”

You said nothing, barely able to keep yourself conscious as you rapidly inhaled and expelled stilted breaths.

“Gandalf the Gray was betrayed by former friend Saruman the White. He is on top of the tower Orthanc, in Isengard, dying with each passing moment. He dispatched me to tell Radagast to seek out the aid of the Eagles - he fears that they may be his only chance at rescue from the tower.”

“Are... are you real?” you finally sputtered.

“I am alive, but not for much longer. My strength fails me. But you must go. Follow along the edge of Mirkwood until you find the brown wizard. The fate of Gandalf, and perhaps the realm, may depend on you. Please, time is of the essence. You must leave.”

The creature’s mouth never moved. You never heard the sound of its voice. But you felt the words in your head, bouncing around there after being injected by some foreign source. The moth pointed its head straight at you.

“Please. It does not matter who you are - your future depends on the knowledge that only Gandalf holds.”

A throbbing pain blossomed in the back of your head, just under your neck. The moth flitted its wings once more, and then the telepathic force that had been drilling into your skull blinked out.

You took a long sip of murky liquid in a cracked glass teacup. Warmth stirred in your void of a stomach, which you had been trying to ignore.

“My word. Then it is true. Saruman has turned to the darkness,” Radagast said to no one in particular. He looked out the window, as if waiting for the silhouette of his friend to appear over the horizon, completely fine.

“I’m sorry,” was all that you could say.

He turned to you, eyes still flickering with life but in danger of going out.

“So am I,” he said grimly, “but, no matter. Gandalf was right. The Eagles are his only chance of salvation from a place as wicked as Isengard. I’ll get the message to them at once.”

He looked at his feet. You couldn’t actually recall much about Radagast from the books - you knew more about how low of an opinion Saruman had of him. But the look of despair that was settling deep within his chest was a grave reminder that he was just as capable of complex thought as anyone else.

You realized that you had just seen a man accept that there would be war on their hands, and that there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

“It will be alright in the end,” you found yourself saying.

Finally, he looked up at you sadly.

“I know. The world will always be okay in the end. And I, who have lived many years and will live many more, will be around to see it. But what will happen to everyone in between?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “but in the meantime we’ll just... do our best to protect them. That’s all we can do, right?”

You tilted the edge of your lips up, not quite forming a grin but far from the hopeless neutrality that you had carried with you into the house. He analyzed you, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips, not caring if you noticed.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n).”

“A person is more than their name, especially one such as you.”

“I’m nobody important to this world. I don’t belong here.”

“And yet here you are. You’ve become somebody important,” he scratched his chin, “this appears to be beyond me, but I suggest that you consult with Gandalf. You’re already heading in his direction anyway.”

“What?”

“I’m sending you with the Eagles. The fellow will be in a mighty poor condition when you find him, it’d be irresponsible for me to send him back all by himself. And besides, you seem like a useful person to know.”

He smiled coyly. Your mind buzzed.

“There must be someone else that you can send?”

“Nope. Well, no one humann, anyway. One of the quirks of dedicating your being to the plants and the animals. Now, on you get! I can hear them circling overhead.”

You had no idea how he had summoned the Eagles, and at this point, you were almost too afraid to ask. You gritted your teeth and let your stomach do a cartwheel as you realized that you were about to come to terms with your fear of heights in the worst way possible.

So be it.

#lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr #lotr imagine #modern girl in middle earth is tired #lord of the rings #the fellowship x reader #gandalf #aragorn #legolas #gimli #frodo #sam gamgee #merry #pippin #pippin and merry #radagast the brown #tolkien #jrr tolkien #the fellowship of the ring

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 14

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: The guardians keep trying to include you in various activities to keep your mind off what's troubling you since you won't talk about it. However, one of these activities turns out to have a, shall we say... slightly less than desired outcome.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @quillsandtypos, @theambracer88, @mcugiggles, @marvelouslyfluffy and all the anons who participated in my questionnaire post! As you probably guessed, I'll be using the answers (and any future ones, if anyone else still wants to play) to complete some fluffy scenes in the story! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 23 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4,683

Rocket, though he finally had a way to repair the device, had decided to wait a bit before actually doing so. Hell, he had waited this long, certain that his smuggling had been in vain once he found one of the parts had broken on... ahem, "departure," so what was another day or two? It was obvious they were going to be here awhile anyway, so he wasn't too rushed.

One might wonder, how was Rocket able to smuggle anything if SHIELD had searched him, already having found and confiscated contraband he had hidden in his "back pocket?"

Well, Rocket wasn't an idiot. He knew of other ways to smuggle goods on his person. Or, in his person, rather. That being said, maybe to say he wasn't an idiot might be giving him a bit too much credit... Swallowing the pieces of a small data pad might not have been exactly the safest thing to do, though he had given himself a pat on the back for rightfully assuming the Terran's wouldn't think to put him through a body scanner.

He had been damned lucky that nothing had gotten lodged or had punctured any of his innards on the way through, but hey, it worked, didn't it?

Well, mostly.

As said, a part had broken on "departure," which he of course blamed on Gamora and Mantis for rushing him in the bathroom that first day. If that bug-eyed chick didn't have such a tiny bladder then he could have allowed for a more "graceful landing."

No matter, he now had a way to fix it thanks to you. This had admittedly softened his attitude towards you the tiniest bit, though he wasn't going to admit it, nor was he going to completely let his guard down. Use of your workshop was probably just another bribe to win his favor, after all. Just like the bed. He was definitely going to take advantage of it, don't get him wrong. He wasn't just not going to use the tools available to him. Just like he wasn't going to just not sleep in the bed you built him. It was better than sleeping in the crib, though he had been grateful the crib had been left in the room when you left the bed. He had been hiding the pieces of the smuggled device under the crib's mattress -the only good use he saw for it, other than the fact that Groot actually slept pretty well in it- because boy, if the others had found out he had smuggled that in, they would have been pissed. Hence, why he wasn't in too big a hurry to fix it just yet.

Perhaps it couldn't hurt to maybe fix that broken stool in the shed for you, though. Just for a warm up, not because he thought he owed you anything, of course.

***

The evening of the check-in you had found yourself with nothing to do and back in the thoughts that had plagued you since the couple came, and you once again considered pouring yourself a glass or two of whiskey.

Yondu had been leaning against the counter enjoying a snack when he saw you retrieve the bottle from the fridge. Remembering the previous night he raised an eyebrow at you. The last thing he wanted was to witness a repeat, but thought he'd still keep an eye on you. Cut you off again before/if you started to look a little too "weepy." He had doubts that you even remembered what you'd done the previous night, and this was confirmed when he made a lighthearted comment about, "Ya goin' to take it easy tonight, or will I be needin' to cut you off again?" and you raised an eyebrow at him before saying, "What? You didn'- Oh right- I think I do remember you taking my drink now that you mention it," as you set the bottle on the table and went to retrieve a glass from the cupboard.

You now sported a slight blush and, pausing your actions, asked, "I um, didn't say or do anything embarrassing to have warranted that, did I?"

Yondu looked you right in the eye, and lied. "Nope. It was just clear ya had a bit much. Figured I'd save yer wimpy Terran liver." He laughed at your slight pout and added, "Ya just whined at me fer takin' yer drink and then fell asleep. Nuttin' too excitin'."

Yondu could see the relief on your face and it solidified his lack of regret of not telling you. Sure, he might have wanted to crack the mystery to see why you were the way you were, but not like that. He hadn't expected the previous night's display, and if anything, it made him feel like he should back off. Yes, it prompted more burning questions, but even he knew there were some things you just didn't pry into.

Around that time Peter and Kraglin came into the kitchen, messing about and horse-playing. You considered telling them to break it up, but then decided you didn't actually care enough as long as they weren't about to break anything... or anyone. You were about to make your standard polite offer of a drink when suddenly a rip was heard and Peter whined out, "Aw man! You ripped my favorite shirt!"

Sure enough, their rough-housing had managed to rip the seam along the left-shoulder of Peter's dark blue shirt, leaving a sizable hole of a couple inches long that revealed another white shirt underneath.

You rolled your eyes and told him where he could find the sewing kit.

Peter looked at you sheepishly and said, "I don't know how to sew."

You sighed and said, "I guess I'm not doing anything..." and you began to walk towards him and the exit of the kitchen, abandoning the bottle of whiskey on the table without having poured a drink.

Peter took off his ripped shirt and in a surprised voice said, "Oh!- Thanks-" starting to hand you the shirt as you walked past.

You didn't take the shirt, just looked at him as a laugh escaped your throat. "I didn't say I'd do it for you. I meant I'll teach you." With that you cocked your head towards the door and headed out towards the sitting room.

As you walked away you shook your head and muttered something Peter couldn't hear but assumed was an insult as he blushed both from embarrassment at his mistake and from hearing Yondu and Kraglin now laughing at him. He wordlessly followed, not wishing to make more of a fool of himself.

Watching Peter leave, inspiration struck Yondu. It might be overstepping, and might have been a long shot, but it was worth a try. He nudged Kraglin in the arm to get his attention. "Ya remember last night? How things got a little too..." he searched for the right word.

Kraglin finished for him, "Sad? Yeah. I remember." He caught sight of the bottle on the table. "She back at it tonight?" He and Yondu hadn't discussed what happened when he had returned to the kitchen after walking you to your room. It had gone unsaid that you were in a bad way.

"She was gonna," Yondu answered, "but then you two came in and gave her something to distract herself. Might not hurt to keep doing that for a bit."

"Ya wanna keep her busy?" Kraglin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Better than watchin' her drown herself in a bottle," Yondu replied flippantly with a shrug, but Kraglin could see through his blasé attitude.

He was slightly surprised, but not completely opposed to Yondu's suggestion. You had been drinking a lot the past few days. It didn't take a genius to see that something was obviously wrong, and he knew better that drinking like that only made sad feelings worse. If this had been the Eclector, and you part of the crew, he or Yondu would have cut you off well before now once they saw the pit you were digging. You just don't let sad people drink themselves into a stupor. It's bad form. But this wasn't the ship, and you weren't crew, and they couldn't stop you. They were in your house. They've barely known you for three weeks. He knew they couldn't just order you around, but if a little bit of distraction kept him from seeing you looking that sad again and kept you from hiding in the bottom of a bottle, he was for it.

Yondu spoke again, more or less repeating Kraglin's thoughts back at him. "I know we're on her turf, but someone's gotta do somethin'. It's bad form to just let h- to just to let a person drown like that. She needs to get her mind off what's been troubling her."

Kraglin examined the former captain's features. There was something else there. An emotion behind his eyes the first mate was familiar with after years of faithful service. Cap'n might not always be the best at admitting his softer feelings, but Kraglin knew. He could see it.

It was a look similar to the one he wore after he finished telling Rocket just how alike they were, right before they went to fight Ego. It was the same look in his eyes he had shortly after Peter came aboard the Eclector as a boy and it was decided he wasn't going to be delivered to Ego. One Kraglin even thought he recognized being on the receiving end of when he was a younger lad on the crew.

Kraglin smiled, a soft mix of understanding and sadness. "Sir," he said gently.

Yondu grunted in response and glanced at him.

"First, I do agree with ya, we should help keep her mind off it, but I just gotta say this too." He sighed before continuing. He knew Yondu wasn't going to like what he was about to say, but they were alone now, so he felt safe to say it. He knew if he said this in front of anyone else it'd a a surefire way to put Yondu dangerously close to whistling territory. "We can't be getting too attached, now."

Yondu glared at him. "Who said anythin' about-"

"Sir, all respect and all, but I think I can say I know ya better than anyone else here." Kraglin said, having cut Yondu off with a slight chuckle. "I can see it, I can tell when you're getting attached." His tone got slightly more serious, more comforting. "I don't think it'll be good for ya to get too attached, sir. We'll be leaving here eventually, and we know she ain't gonna be coming with us."

Yondu set his mouth in a firm line and stared Kraglin down hard but didn't say anything. He knew his first mate was right, but that didn't mean he had to admit it. Finally he answered with, "I ain't gettin' attached to nuttin' or nobody."

Kraglin sighed. If he knew anything else it was that Yondu could also be stubborn as hell. If he wanted to live in denial, well there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. "Alright, sir," he said with a shake of his head. "I believe ya." He didn't, and his tone betrayed that, earning him a narrowed eyed look from Yondu, but they dropped the conversation, at least for now.

***

Showing Peter how to sew went fairly smoothly. He seemed to grasp the concept well enough, watching you sew the first third of the tear - not the easiest task with your brace on- and then repeating what you had shown him on the rest himself. He finished soon enough and thanked you before leaving the table.

However, almost immediately after that Kraglin showed up with something ripped and asked if you could teach him too. You sighed, and mildly scolded him about how come he couldn't have asked while you were showing Peter, but you agreed regardless. Again, it wasn't exactly the easiest task considering you only had a limited range of motion to move your arm, but you managed. After he finally seemed to get it (he asked a lot of questions, even if he understood, assuming it'd be helpful to keep you occupied for longer) you noticed it had gotten dark out, and you were tired anyway, and so when it looked like he had a handle on it you decided to just go to bed.

***

The next day it seemed like people just kept asking you to do things. Not like they were ordering you around, but more like asking you to do things with them, which they hadn't often done.

It wasn't all bad, but you had the feeling it wasn't just a coincidence that they were seemingly trying to keep you engaged in various tasks and activities after Maria had informed you that one of them had expressed concerns about your well-being. You didn't know if they were now acting on their own or if Fury or Agent Hill had suggested it, but either way you figured you'd just roll with it. If you made an effort maybe they'd be happy and drop it.

That morning, before you realized what was going on, Mantis came to you with a book on plants and asked you to help her identify different plants around the property. You had almost said no, perhaps another time, but then you saw the expectant look on her happy face and decided you had time to kill anyway, so what could it hurt?

It was about when you were asked by Mantis and Drax to join the others for a game of UNO that you started to suspect what was going on.

Before this, Peter had kept coming up to you wanting to show you funny videos he found, having recently discovered the YouTube app on the TV; Yondu had come to you with an archery book and tried making small-talk asking about Terran types of archery; and Gamora and Kraglin asked you to help ref while everyone sparred.

You had agreed to reffing, feeling a little better than you had been all those days you had refused and now therefore not seeing any reason not to.

It was a slight bummer though, needing to sit on the sidelines and watching others train, but you supposed watching them to see if they knew any cool 'space moves' couldn't hurt. Plus, watching how the raccoon was able to hold his own against human-sized opponents was always interesting. Groot sat with you, not being permitted to spar with the others (except for when Rocket would decide to pretend spar with him, just to make him happy) and he was adorable as he played with the grass, so it wasn't all bad.

After that everyone else was pretty much tired, but Groot came up to you with the car you had given him, holding it above his head. You raised an eyebrow and looked to Peter, who informed you that the little guy wanted you to push him on it. You did, because how could you possibly say no to that?

What was cute to Peter, however, was the fact that no one had prompted Groot to do that. He just genuinely wanted you to play with him.

After a while of playing with Groot is when Mantis and Drax had come to you about playing UNO. Now you were getting a hint of what they were doing, but you agreed to play a few games with them anyway. You even caught yourself actually starting to have fun.

Around suppertime Peter came up to you, asking if you could teach him how to cook something. He talked about how he thought it'd be fun to learn to cook more things from his home world, and also reminded you how you did say several times that he could 'help you cook later.'

You sighed and after some more prodding from Peter you finally agreed, asking him what he might like to learn how to cook.

Peter looked like a deer in the headlights before admitting that he didn't actually know. He didn't remember a whole lot of different Terran foods from when he was a kid, and he was now drawing a blank.

You nodded towards the kitchen and told him the two of you would figure it out.

After looking for a bit you decided on a vegetable stew, mostly because this had been unexpected and you hadn't pulled any meat from the freezer to thaw.

Peter was surprisingly not bad at it. He handled the knife safely, he cut the vegetables evenly, and he listened as you told him what to do and when. You wondered if he had some experience cooking before, but you didn't ask.

After dinner Gamora wouldn't take no for an answer on helping with the dishes, of course using your injury as an excuse. You sighed, but allowed it, agreeing to dry while she washed, still under the impression that if you just indulged them for a bit they'd eventually stop and start leaving you along again.

Just as you finished Peter came to the two of you asking if you wanted to see a new movie he found on Netflix.

Figuring it wouldn't hurt to make an effort, you agreed to watching a movie with them and followed into the sitting room, wondering what film he had picked out.

Turned out, he had chosen a horror movie. Candy Man.

You sighed. Obviously you weren't completely immune to jump scares, but you didn't really mind horror movies. You could even go as far to say that you enjoyed most of them. However, you were concerned about Mantis, who you could see sitting happily on the rug in front of the couch next to Rocket as you entered the room.

"Are you sure this movie is appropriate for everyone?" you ask Peter.

"What? You scARed?" Rocket taunted with a smirk, and it was then that you saw Groot on the rug as well, having been sitting in Rocket's lap.

You roll your eyes and explain that your concerns were for the wooden child and Mantis, as your time spent with them hadn't made you very confident that they would recieve a scary movie well. "I'm more concerned the movie's gonna give them nightmares," you explained as you took a seat at the end of the couch.

Gamora seemed to agree with you, but the two of you were outvoted. Rocket just rolled his eyes and snarked that he bet you were scared, and Mantis assured excitedly that she could watch it. Groot, even though you couldn't understand him, also seemed adamant. You had a feeling they didn't really know what they were getting into, but combined with the fact that Mantis was an adult, and Groot wasn't your child, and Peter was doing his best to convince you and Gamora that everything would be fine, you eventually gave in, stating, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. She better not crawl into my bed tonight. I'll send her your way."

Peter just laughed and shook his head, not taking you seriously, before turning out the lights and taking a seat next to Gamora at the other end of the couch. Kraglin took the last available seat between you and Peter and Rocket smarted off again.

"If you're gonna get scared maybe Kraglin will hold your hand!" he laughed as Peter turned on the film.

You rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at Kraglin to give the rodent any satisfaction that he might have succeeded in embarrassing you. This, Kraglin was grateful for, because he was sort of an easy blusher, and he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He just gave Rocket an unamused look, but he was also grateful the lights had been dimmed so that Yondu couldn't see him blushing and then tease him for it. Whether or not the former Ravager captain would actually believe Kraglin might have managed to develop feelings for you wouldn't matter. That fact that Kraglin had just told Yondu the previous night that he shouldn't be getting attached would be enough for him to jump on it and tease the hell out of him purely out of spite.

Despite the movie being old, it was still relatively new to you. You had heard about it, thought you remembered seeing a commercial or maybe a clip or two of it over the years, but this had been your first time actually watching it.

It was about halfway though and nothing terribly scary had happened yet. There was the flashback scene of a little boy having been mutilated that made you cringe, as any show that featured little kids being harmed always hit a sore spot, but it didn't really show much more than a bloody bathroom.

You were starting to think it probably wasn't going to be any real scary scenes, but then Candyman started to call the college lady's name, and it actually made you fight a shiver. You didn't know why, but creepy sounds were one of the few things from a film that could actually strike fear in your heart. Thankfully it didn't last long. You weren't looking forward to being teased for jumping or shivering at a movie that wasn't really even that scary.

At least it would mean that Mantis would be unlikely to crawl into your bed scared tonigh-

Candyman just shoved his hook through the college lady's medicine cabinet.

Half of everyone jumped, including you. Among those startled was Kraglin, and he shot you a glance that you purposely didn't return, not wanting to answer to any cocky smiles or teases accusing you of being scared.

A shot came on the screen centering on the baby Candyman took and you tensed, worried he was going to kill it, but you were relieved to see that he only let it suckle on his finger.

Kraglin felt you tense and then relax beside him, and he frowned, remembering the other night. He considered asking if you were alright, but then thought better of it and held his tongue, instead watching on as a scene played where the lady was now stuck in a mental hospital, having been believed to have killed her best friend and said baby from the previous scene.

Yondu didn't think he liked this movie, but he continued to watch in silence. He didn't want to see kids being hurt, and he had also tensed at the previous scene. Like you, he was sure that the bad guy was about to kill the baby. However, as he was sitting in his usual spot in the armchair, his tension went unnoticed.

Mantis let out a short scream when the lady summoned Candyman and he killed the psychiatrist. You sighed, realizing this wasn't looking good for her staying in her own bed tonight. Little did Peter know, you hadn't been kidding. If she tries to crawl in with you, you're sending her right to him, seeing as it would be his fault.

The lady was now exploring Candyman's lair, and you started to get a little tense at the creepy sounds of his breathing, and you mentally cursed whoever mixed the sound for this movie.

You got even more tense and fidgety when he opened his robe to reveal a ribcage full of bees. You only hoped no one noticed to tease you for it. Body horror was another thing that never failed to make you shudder.

Eventually the movie started to come to a close, a scene played where the lady's jerk ex-fiancé was having flashbacks to how good he had it with her now that she was dead, and you thought it was just going to end on a sad note.

That is, until he said her name, Helen, five times in the mirror (just like Candyman) and she came back and killed him with the Candyman's hook. Her sudden appearance made you startle slightly, and you heard more squeals from Mantis. You sighed again. Yep, she was definitely not going to sleep tonight.

The movie was finally over and Peter got up to turn on the lights. He turned to see you giving him a glare and he smiled. "What? Was it too scary for you?" he jeered.

You just pointed down to Groot. He had his head buried in Rocket's chest and was softly whimpering. "I told you that movie wasn't for kids."

Rocket scoffed at you and told you he would be fine, then turned it on you, saying how he felt you jump at least three times from where he was sitting.

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, turning to Peter and this time gesturing to Mantis, who still looked a bit shaken. "I meant what I said. She tries to crawl in bed with me, I'm sending her to you," you say, leaving to go to go get ready for bed, both because it was now late, and to avoid any inevitable further teasing from Rocket.

The others seemed to have much the same idea about bedtime, and a few of them followed you up the stairs.

You let Mantis shower first, hopeful that if you went after her that she might hopefully be asleep by the time you got out. However, when you finished your own shower, Peter had thought it'd be funny to jump-scare you as you exited the bathroom, grabbing your shoulders and shouting, "CANDYMAN'S GOTCHA!" which resulted in you jumping a mile with a noise you'd deny was a shriek before you turned to punch him in the arm scolding, "Damn you!"

He, along with Rocket, only responded by laughing their asses off at you. You thought you could also hear Drax's own booming laughter down the hall from his room, and you caught a glimpse of Yondu and Kraglin sharing amused glances and snickering from their shared room.

Your face getting warm at the fact that he had actually managed to get you pretty good, you then just storm off to your room, ignoring Rocket's teases that he bet that you'd be the one crawling into Mantis's bed tonight.

You shut the bedroom door behind you to see Mantis awake and clutching her bear for dear life. Whether she was just already awake due to nerves or you had woken her with your startled cry, you didn't know, but you flicked on your desk lamp for her, turned out your overhead light and crawled into bed without a word.

Sometime later, long enough for you to have drifted off into a decently sound enough sleep to be dreaming, you were startled awake by someone crawling into your bed.

Guess who. That's right. Mantis.

You groaned and turned to see she had already crawled halfway into your bed before you stopped her by rousing. "Mantis," you groaned, pointing towards the door, "go climb into Peter's bed. He's the one that chose the movie."

Mantis tucked her chin sheepishly and admitted she had already tried that, but his and Gamora's door had been locked.

You stared at the ceiling and sighed. Clever bastard.

You made a mental note to squirt lemon juice in his coffee in the morning before letting out another groan. "Ugh, fine. But just this once," you allowed, ignoring the fact that this would actually technically be the second time. You were also not actually quite as salty as you let on. If anything, you should maybe thank her for waking you from a bad dream involving the Candyman's ribcage full of bees, but you weren't going to tell her that.

She smiled gratefully and thanked you as she snuggled in.

You sighed quietly and Mantis fell asleep quickly. At least she didn't snore.

You spent the next bit before you fell asleep yourself contemplating different ways that you might be able to annoy Peter for sufficient payback.

#gotg #gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu lives #scary movies #candyman #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #rocket racoon and groot #mantis #peter quill #starlord

[kstewdeux]

IN HONOR OF TWO HUNDRED FOLLOWERS & ALSO JULY 4TH I PRESENT A VERY RUSHED PIECE OF GAR-BAHGE:

Pop Pop Fizz Fizz

Summary: Dogs are afraid of fireworks.

Exhaling shakily, Inuyasha went over the speech he’d been preparing for some weeks now. A necessary risk because, for a completely fair reason, Kagome didn’t believe him when he promised not to leave her side again. In his mind, that declaration was crystal clear. He’d picked her. Period. End of story. But instead of being happy about that, she’d said she hated his guts and while she said she didn’t ‘remember’ saying those words, she’d meant them at the time.

So maybe it was too late and now he was doomed to be alone forever. Not in a “I do have a place in the world but I’m the only one in it” type of alone but more “I will forever be single.” Which felt like a weird mental transition. Instead of worrying about being hunted down like a dog, now he was worrying about having to go home to an empty house the rest of his life. Coming up with plans for the future when he had down time. Trying to think about what he’d do for employment, what he’d name his brats, where he should build his hut.

And, of course, who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

So weird.

But…seeing as those were his concerns, he’d decided he better do something about it. Couldn’t very well risk Kagome coming back here once the quest was over or else he probably would be single the rest of his life. Not that he was settling for her. Just…no one else would ever hold a candle to her and that wouldn’t be fair to the next woman who caught feelings. Again, very weird to believe someone else might want him but weird or not, his mind was confident it would happen. He was okay looking after all. Even with the dog ears. And, in theory, he could make sure to only, um, help create human babies if that was an issue.

A faint blush bloomed on his cheeks at the thought.

A blush that deepened when he saw the miko come back into her bedroom. If he was going to, um, make babies with anyone, it’d be preferable if it was her.

A soft moan lodged itself in his throat at his sudden mental image.

Oh he’d make all the babies. All day every day. First thing in the morning. In the forest. In caves. In the meadow. On the well…

Letting out a soft groan, Inuyasha tried to slow his erratically beating heart and get ahold of his hormones as he jumped out of the Sacred Tree and casually made his way towards the shrine house. It was very important he didn’t come across desperate or nervous. Impulsive things like pinning her against the wall just kissing her senseless, making her straddle him so their hips cradled each other and touching her how he damn well pleased? Nope. Off the table. Not an option. That was only something someone desperate would do. And while he was desperate for something of that variety, it would send the wrong message since there was a big difference between lust and love. The last thing he needed was to confuse things more since Kagome was too stupid to realize he loved her. Which was fair, alright? He knew he’d messed up, repeatedly, and that this was entirely his fault but there was still time to fix it maybe. Make it clear who he actually wanted to be with. The whole Kikyo debacle could just be explained away and maybe they could even laugh about it one day. Especially if they got married. She’d be his wife so there was no way she’d still think he’d only gotten with her as a backup option. That wasn’t it at all. To be honest, he’d come to believe that the only reason he was so confused was because he’d met Kikyo first when he should’ve been with Kagome all along. It was the same soul so…you know, maybe his soul got confused thinking Kikyo was the one when really…

Crinkling his nose at this train of thought, Inuyasha cleared his throat and looked up at the bedroom window. That thought could not be part of this speech. He just needed to stick with the script and not deviate.

Swallowing thickly, Inuyasha gave himself a quick pat down and ran his claws through his hair a few times to make sure he looked presentable. Before he came over here he’d bathed to make sure he looked his best for this very important moment. Even washed his under garments. Not that she would be seeing them but you know…

You can never be too prepared.

Satisfied this was the best he could do, Inuyasha made to leap before a loud thunderous explosion in the distance caused his whole body to jerk in surprise and he found himself landing face first just below the window he’d been aiming for. A subsequent series of explosions had every muscle in his body spasming out of control as inexplicable terror coursed through his veins. Wasn’t this time supposed to be safe?! What the hell was that?!

Landing none too gracefully against the tiled courtyard, Inuyasha crouched in a defensive posture before yelping and scrambling up to Kagome’s window as fast as his shaking body would allow. He needed to be inside. Now.

“Let me in. Let me in. Let me in,” Inuyasha breathed in a terrified tone as he flung open the window and threw himself into the furthest corner of the room. Chest heaving, he listened as the barrage of faint pops and booms echoed all around him alongside the smell of explosives. If they were back home that’d be one thing but here? For whatever reason the idea of having to go up against modern machinery with nothing but claws and a sword scared the ever loving shit out of him.

“Inuyasha? What are you doing here? Did something happen?” Kagome asked worriedly - overcoming her initial surprise to comfort the trembling boy who looked a hair away from cracking, “Are you okay?”

A distant surprisingly loud boom echoed in his sensitive ears and before he could rationally think things through, Inuyasha dove for the safest place. By the time he realized he’d buried his face in Kagome’s stomach - on his knees no less - it was too late. Another series of terrifying pops followed by a cracking boom had him flinching. A humiliating whimper passing over his lips when Kagome scratched the base of his ears in a reassuring manner.

“It’s just fireworks Inuyasha. Like that sparkler I showed you. Remember? ” the miko laughed softly as she tried to take a step back only to find the arms encircling her waist refused to release her. Which was very weird. Inuyasha never acted scared about anything and if he did, he usually chose violence not…you know, cowering in fear.

“They’re just having a festival on the river. That’s all. It’s safe,” Kagome tried again before letting out a long sigh when another distant boom left the poor man shaking. Glancing back towards her bed, Kagome made a decision and with no lack of awkwardness, forced herself down to her knees until Inuyasha’s arms clamped around her neck and his face buried itself in her neck.

“Can you look at me?” she asked as calmly as she could and taking several shallow breaths, Inuyasha nodded against her skin. But… didn’t move.

“Come on,” she cooed as her hand maneuvered beneath his thick mane to scratch at the base of his skull - the fireworks still popping in the distance in an unpredictable fashion, “Just look at me, okay?”

Slowly and shakily, Inuyasha pulled back - his amber eyes wide and dilated as they looked to her for reassurance. This whole reaction was utterly humiliating. He couldn’t even begin to explain why these stupid ‘fireworks’ were making him act like this. Hell, he’d literally fought in life and death battles without flinching but some random explosions and suddenly he…

Was not proud of the noise he made when Kagome’s lips shockingly captured his own. The kiss was gentle at first but then quickly escalated with ever increasing pressure evoking from his sensations he’d never known he was capable of feeling.

Unfortunately, a series of extremely loud booms that caused the glass to subtle shake ruined what had been one of the best moments of his life. Pulling back, Inuyasha struggled against himself for a moment before trying to dive back in. Absolutely determined to ignore those anxiety inducing noises even if it killed him.

As it turned out, this plan was not feasible. One particularly loud boom later, his claws involuntarily flexed earning a soft whimper of pain and causing the smell of her blood to drift into his nostrils.

“Shit I’m sorry,” Inuyasha panted lightly as he sat back against his ankles and pulled his hands back, “I didn’t…”

Much to his surprise, however, Kagome only gave him an understanding smile.

“It’s not a big deal. I think you only nicked me. That’s all,” she soothed before getting to her feet and taking his hand, “Here. Why don’t we hide under the covers, hm? And I can get you some tissue to stuff in your ears if you want but it should be over soon.”

Swallowing thickly, Inuyasha gave one jerky nod before getting to his feet and nervously following her to the bed. This wasn’t exactly the way he thought their first time sharing a bed would go - with him being completely terrified and with nothing untoward about to happen - but that didn’t mean he was going to say no. Thank god he bathed though.

Lifting the covers Kagome indicated he should get in - which he did - before crawling in beside him and pulling up the covers. In this position, she could feel subtle jerk he made. This reaction made some sense. With his ears being as sensitive as they were combined with never having been exposed to fireworks, it made sense that he’d gone into fight or flight mode. Except normally he fought. Maybe the oddity had something to do with the sound of explosives being the last thing he expected in this time period.

Inuyasha suddenly leaned forward to give her a chaste kiss before scooting down, curling into a ball and tucking his head beneath her chin so she could, presumably, protect him more efficiently from the big, bad noises he didn’t understand.

“Love you,” he mumbled miserably before flinching when a long cacophony of booms signaled the finale. Arms curling against his chest, Kagome could feel his shuddering breath dance over her skin while she held him so tight. Trying her best to hold him together since he didn’t seem capable to doing it himself at the moment.

And then it was over. Although the fireworks show had ended, it took at least an hour for Inuyasha to relax. His joints popping as he slowly stretched out and lifted his head just enough for her lips to gain access to his temple.

“I’ll warn you next time,” she promised and Inuyasha hummed tiredly in acceptance of this offer.

“I just didn’t expect to see you,” she continued - a little irritation seeping into her voice, “You promised me three days. Like a few hours before you showed up. Why’d you even come here anyway?”

There was a speech he’d prepared for this moment but in the midst of his inexplicable and unwanted terror, his slate had been wiped clean.

“I just wanted to see your face,” he replied with a yawn as he unfurled one arm to drape across her waist and pull her closer, “You know because I love you and shit.”

“Do…do you really mean that?” Kagome asked hesitantly- trying to ignore the fact that she was now pressed tightly against the man’s chest, “I just thought, you know, you loved her.”

“Kikyo’s cursed. Can’t forget that or abandon her. S’not her fault,” Inuyasha hummed tiredly as his hand moved lower and not so subtly forced her hips to cradle his, “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I need you. Just gotta protect her s’all.”

Lips twitching upwards hesitantly, a deep blush fanning her cheeks, Kagome cleared her throat and scarcely allowed herself to hope.

Although she did feel a little salty.

“What if I don’t love you back?” she teased and Inuyasha let out a soft snort.

“Nah. You love me,” he hummed cockily - basking in the truth of that statement with a crooked grin, “Why else would you kiss me like that?”

“I only did that to snap you out of your panic attack,” she countered and for the briefest moment, Inuyasha’s smile faltered.

“That's the only reason?”

In hindsight, Inuyasha felt quite stupid for believing her jibe. Especially considering her response was to immediately pick up from where they left off.

#fireworks #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #inukag #inuyasha #kagome #inuyasha x kagome

[writingfromkitchenator]

Geralt ~ Jealousy And Pining

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Round 2

Masterlist

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,746

Warnings: Neutral Reader, jealousy, pining, suggest mutual pining, teasing, grumpy Geralt

It was normal for you and Jaskier to be hanging back together when you travelled, usually allowing Geralt to lead on, the two of you often talking about ridiculous things.

What wasn't normal, was the hushed, quiet talking that the two of you were now doing.  Geralt wasn’t sure why, but it was setting his teeth on edge. Clearly, you two were up to something, and he hated that he wanted to know what.

He had little doubt it was something to do with him.

Your laughter had Geralt glance back, seeing you shove Jaskier slightly, who was grinning, and he quickly forced his eyes on the road ahead, a new worry curling in his stomach. He did his best to push it away, to drown it back in his suspicions of what the two of you were doing, but the thought was lodged there now, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Were the two of you together and he just hadn’t noticed?

This was not what he wanted to spend his day worrying about.  You all needed to reach the next town before nightfall and the two of you lagging behind was not helping.

“Hurry up you two,” Geralt grunted.  “Unless you want to be stuck out here at night I suggest upping the pace.”

You and Jaskier paused, before there were a few more hurried, quiet words said to each other, and then you caught up.

Geralt saw your mouth open to say something, and it just soured his mood further.  “Whatever you’re conspiring for, don’t do it.”

You blinked at him. “Conspiring?  We haven’t been conspiring for anything.”

“Right,” Geralt grunted. “Well then concentrate on walking. I don’t need to tell you both again that we don’t want to be stuck out here at nightfall.”

There was no missing the look you gave to Jaskier, who just shrugged, before you looked, a little annoyed back at Geralt.  “I know, but we’re still making good time and should be there well before dusk.  This isn’t my first time out in the wilds around here Geralt, and I doubt it’ll be my last, so why don’t you relax for a moment and actually join us in conversation?”

Geralt gritted his teeth and kept his gaze on the road ahead.  “No thank you.”

You rolled your eyes at his back, he could practically feel it, and it just made his irritation grow. If you and Jaskier were together-

No, he had to push those thoughts aside.  You weren’t his to have those thoughts about.

They continued on in silence for a while, you and Jaskier occasionally casting looks at each other, most of which Geralt missed, but the ones he did see, only got him more frustrated.

“How did I end up travelling with you two?”  He mused to himself.

“Well, I get you jobs,” You said, making Geralt’s shoulders tense, realising he’d spoken out loud. “And Jaskier is here as our friend and musical company.  We’re also probably two of the only people around that can put up with your bad moods.”

Jaskier snorted but quickly looked away as Geralt shot an angry look back.  “That wasn’t a question for answering.”

You shrugged.  “Then you shouldn’t have asked it.”

He growled, and quickened his pace.  The word friend rang in his ears, but he was currently too frustrated to process it properly.

“And before you say anything in anger,” You said, rather cheerfully, in fact, infuriatingly so. “We’re not going anywhere.  Like it or not, you’re stuck with us.”

“Then stop whispering behind my back.”  Geralt snapped.  “Do you have any idea how frustrating it is?”

“Getting paranoid are we Geralt?”  Jaskier asked.  “I promise we only say good things if we do talk about you.”

Geralt just growled again. Why was he bothering?  He honestly had no idea.

You stepped up to him, ignoring his furious glance at you, just looking around at the wilderness around you.  “If you were really that curious, you could’ve just asked us what we were talking about.  We would’ve told you and avoided this all together.”

He decided it was best to ignore you, not trusting himself to say anything, despite the one question that was still consuming him.  You always did as you pleased anyway, so even if he was to voice his thoughts – it was ridiculous.  He had to stop this.

“I’m getting my own room tonight,” He grumbled.  “You two can share for once.”

You shrugged.  “If that’s what you want, I’m not going to stop you.  Jaskier?”

“Nope.”  Jaskier shook his head, sending you a wink.  “Gives us a chance to plan some more.”

Geralt’s jaw clenched, even as you smiled and shook your head.  “We shouldn’t have too far to go down.”

The rest of the way, Geralt remained obstinately silent, but his mind worked quickly, going over things he knew that he shouldn’t, and he was more than frustrated with himself. You and Jaskier just let him be, deciding it was best not to test him too much, and at least Geralt was grateful for that.

In the emptiness of a room in the town, Geralt finally let out a breath, feeling the tension ease out of his shoulders slightly.  Out of your gaze, he felt he could finally process it all properly.

The jealousy still curled low in his stomach.

He hated that he felt like this, that it seemed to be consuming him more and more as he thought about it.  He had no right to be feeling it as much as he was, the two of you having only ever been friends, and yet, he couldn’t help it.

Geralt wanted you for himself.

Rolling his eyes at himself, he collapsed onto the bed, hands running through his hair and he honestly hoped that sleep would take him quickly.

A knock on his door a few minutes later put any end to that thought.

“What?”  He asked, not caring if it was polite or not.

“May I come in?”  You asked through the door.

Geralt groaned and pulled himself from the bed, his hand hesitating for just a moment on the door handle, before he opened it.  “What?”

You raised an eyebrow at him.  “I’d much rather not have this conversation in the hall, so may I come in?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer, stepping into his room, making him roll his eyes and close the door.

“Now before I start,” You said.  “Do you have something you want to ask me Geralt?”

A million things raced through his mind, but he kept his expression neutral.  “No.”

You made a noise that said you didn’t believe him, but you didn’t elaborate further.  “Alright then, I guess you can just listen then.”

Geralt said.  “Y/N please, I’m tired and-”

“If you shut up and listen, this won’t take long.”  You said, a slightly amused smile tugging at your lips.  “I know today hasn’t been your best day Geralt, but I’m only asking for a few more minutes of patience.”

He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying, well, anything, and just gave you a single nod.

“Thank you,” Your smile widened, seeming to be unable to help it.  “Now, Jaskier and I, I will admit, were formulating a plan, however, given today’s interactions, I figured this was much better and safer for him.”

Geralt felt his jealously rear its head again, so he forced it down.  “I knew you were up to something.”

“I wasn’t originally,” You said, suddenly breaking away from his gaze, something that was very unlike you. “However, Jaskier has been nagging me for far too long about it, and I finally gave in to him to at least…try something.  In all honestly, I think he was just hoping you’d over hear our conversation, you know how he likes to add these dramatics to his tales.”

It took a moment for your words to register and he couldn’t help but frown at you.  “Why is Jaskier writing songs about us?”

You shot him a slightly abashed look.  “Do you remember the last one he sang?”

Geralt nodded slowly. “I thought it was a bit…sappy, even for him.”

You chuckled and nodded. “Agreed, but, and I hate to say this, that was about us.”

“What?”  Geralt frowned and tried to remember exactly the words that Jaskier had been singing.  “How was that about-”

He remembered the words, remembered feeling confused at the time, but he’d just decided that Jaskier had had too much to drink.  The song had been about two travellers being in love, but neither of them knew that they loved the other, seemingly more determined to avoid it than give in to what they were feeling.

Geralt stared at you. “What were you and Jaskier talking about today?”

“Jaskier called me out,” You said with a shrug, smiling.  “Then nagged me about talking to you about it when I finally admitted the truth about it.  He and I today, were discussing a plan to be able to do that, and trust me, each scenario was as ridiculous as the last.”

“So you and Jaskier aren’t…” He couldn’t finish the question, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish.

“No.”  You chuckled.  “Jaskier and I are just friends.  You and I, however, well, that all depends if you want something more? If this has all been a…bad assumption…”

Geralt stood there for a long moment, too many thoughts once again racing through his mind, and as he held your gaze, the curl of jealousy that had been plaguing him all day finally snapped and his feet carried him forward.

No words mattered anymore in that moment, he always thought people talked too much, so instead he kissed you, taking you a little by surprise, but it was all he could think about.

Finally, it put his racing mind to rest, and he settled solely on you.

You giggled against his lips, pushing him away slightly and meeting his gaze.  “While that was appreciated, don’t you have to hunt tonight?”

Geralt let a low growl rumble through his chest.  “It can wait a night, I have something more important to attend to.”

With that he scooped you up and carried you the bed, your giggles filling the room, and he finally found himself smiling.

“You know you’re going to have thank Jaskier for this.”

“Not a chance.  I’d never live it down if I did.”

#1300 followers challenge #round 2 #the witcher #geralt #geralt x neutral reader #geralt x reader

[thiswasinevitableid]

If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???

Here you go!

22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.

Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.

It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.

“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.

“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.

“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”

The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.

“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”

“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”

The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”

“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.

“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”

“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”

“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”

“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”

“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”

“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”

A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.

“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.

“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.

Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”

Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.

---------------------------------------------------

He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.

“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.

“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”

“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”

Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.

“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”

“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”

As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.

Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.

“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”

“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”

“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”

He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”

“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”

She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”

“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”

“How can you be sure it’s fake?”

“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”

“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.

“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”

---------------------------------------------

He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”

“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”

“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”

“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”

It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.

“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them

“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.

Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.

Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.

It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.

“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”

His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.

He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.

His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.

A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.

Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.

I.C All

Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.

He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.

“Come in!”

The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.

Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.

“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”

“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”

“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.

“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”

“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”

“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”

“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”

“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”

“...Come with me.”

Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.

“I had no idea this was here.”

“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”

“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”

“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”

“You know he won’t, sugar.”

“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”

Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.

“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.

“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.

“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”

“I’m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.

“How’s Maddie doin’?”

“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”

“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”

“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”

Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.

“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”

“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”

She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.

“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”

“A few weeks.”

She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”

“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”

The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”

With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.

--------------------------------------------------

“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.

“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”

He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.

“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”

Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.

“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”

“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”

It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”

“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”

Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.

But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.

His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.

It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.

“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”

His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.

“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”

“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.

“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”

“You struck a deal.”

Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”

Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.

“He blackmailed you.”

“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”

“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.

“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”

“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”

Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.

He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.

“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”

Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”

Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.

“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”

The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”

He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”

“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”

“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”

“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”

“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”

He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.

“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”

“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.

“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”

An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.

“You like when I’m rough?”

“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.

“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”

“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.

Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”

“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.

“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”

“Please show me how.”

“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.

“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”

“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”

He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.

“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”

“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.

“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”

Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.

“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”

The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.

“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”

Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.

“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.

Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”

“Fuck, please?”

He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.

“I, I should unzip-”

“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”

“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.

“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”

“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.

“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”

“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”

Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #TAZ amnesty #noir au #detective au