#Car navigation phone holder

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[gazpacho-deluxe]

just had to drive in the rain and dark (a combination i have not driven in before) to drop someone off somewhere i hate driving i hate driving i hate driving

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main Part 5

Masterpost

“We have to stop for snacks!” 

“We are not stopping for snacks.”

They started this conversation two whole minutes ago.

“We have to stop for snacks! It is a quintessential part of the road trip experience. This is our first road trip. Do you really want to deprive your family of the full experience?”

Apparently, the Waynes have never been on a full road trip, usually flying places instead, so Dick is insisting we make this a whole experience. Danny is willing to bet car games will be played at some point.

“It’s a long drive, we’re not stopping unless necessary.”

Danny wonders how long the discussion can last as it reaches the four minute mark. 

“ But-”

Tim taps Dick on the shoulder to shut him up. “I have to go to the bathroom.” He deadpans at Bruce. 

Bruce looks at him in the rearview mirror, looks back at the road, looks back at Tim. Bruce sighs.

“Everybody is going to the bathroom. We can get some snacks, and then we are not stopping for at least four hours.” 

Dick cheers, and Danny chuckles at Tim’s smirk. They’ve only been on the road for forty-five minutes, by all rights no one should have to go to the bathroom yet, but Danny was enjoying the family banter in the car.

The first forty-two minutes of the drive was mostly just everyone settling in, Dick in the front as navigator, though it didn’t seem like Bruce needed directions. Danny had asked and he’d never been to Illinois before, but they’re probably still in familiar territory, he might need a map later. Danny is in the back seat, sitting behind Bruce, Tim is sitting behind Dick. Dick and Tim both brought backpacks with them for the drive, Tim has at least two tablets in his. Danny knows they put a bunch of stuff in the trunk as well,  overnight bags and other assorted items, he thinks he saw a pillow. Danny knows somebody went to pack something for him/Jason when they get there, but doesn’t know who. He doesn’t have any entertainment, because he doesn’t have anything except Jason’s phone on him. 

They pull into a gas station, Bruce is determined to get the most out of this stop. Bruce pumps the gas as Danny, Dick, and Tim head inside. They do all go to the bathroom, and Bruce comes in to use the restroom as they raid the snack aisles. Tim has three canned coffees in his hands.

“You know if you drink all of those we’ll have to stop again.” Danny points out. “ Plus it’s late, can you not sleep in cars?”

“Can’t sleep at all usually. We’ll see, but I have some stuff to work on anyway.” Tim points to the drink displays. “Anything you’d like?” 

Danny knows that they don’t mind paying for him, at this point it has been debated multiple times, and he knows he won’t make the whole trip without any snacks. He grabs a Monster and a Gatorade for the road. They meet Dick in the chip aisle. It looks like he’s already grabbed one of every candy, and he’s well on the way to one of every chip.

“Hey, what do you like Danny?” Danny stares at all the food precariously balanced in his arms.

“If you’re sharing, I think we’re good.” 

Dick and Tim laugh.

“We will be sharing most of this. I got all of our favorites, but everyone has something that they’re not willing to share as well. Why don’t you pick out something that’s just for you.”

Tim has grabbed sour gummy worms and is making his way to the checkout counter where Bruce is waiting with a very resigned look on his face. Danny grabs a bag of beef jerky and walks with Dick to the checkout. The look on Bruce’s face when Dick walks up with his arms full is hilarious and Danny actually snorts at Bruce’s ‘I can’t control these children’ apologetic look he gives the cashier as Dick dumps his haul onto the counter.

They pile back into their seats, the seat between Tim and Danny now stuffed with all the snacks. There is not one empty cup holder left in the car. They spend the next short stretch getting resettled, opening up their first snacks and drinks. Tim Pulls out a tablet, but doesn’t start working on anything, too busy texting someone. Danny considers pulling out his phone, remembers it’s not his, and then decides not to. He wouldn’t know the password anyway, maybe he can ask if his brother’s know what it would be.

They’d just about hit the first hour mark on their 12-hour trip when Dick turns around in his chair to face the backseat. Danny sees him slip his phone away.

“Hey, Danny, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Tim has put his phone down.

“Well, I’m still in highschool. Should graduate soon, hopefully.” Danny starts tapping his fingers on his thighs. He hopes he can graduate. “You know I have a sister in college. I have another sister, she’s a traveler, she doesn’t do school.” 

“Do you like school?” Dick prompts.

“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “I’m not great at it. I like learning, but it’s not a great school and there’s only so much learning you can do from inside a locker.” 

“You fit in a locker?” Tim asks.

Danny looks at himself, quickly realizing that they have no idea what he looks like as he sees Jason’s bulky frame. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head with a hand.

“Ha, yeah. I’m more…. Tim to Damian size? I think I’m around your height.” He said in Tims direction. “Maybe an inch or two shorter, but I have no muscle mass, so It’s a bit of a squeeze but I fit well enough. Never get stuck. Tucker got stuck once.” 

Dick frowns. “Do a lot of people end up in lockers at your school?” 

“Sure. Me, Tucker, Mikey… Maybe Wes if he ever really pisses someone off. But he’s more likely to annoy me than Dash, and I’m not going to shove him in a locker.”

Tim nods sagely, like he understands high school. Dick is frowning like he doesn’t. 

“Dash a sports guy?” Tim asks.

Danny nods. “Football quarterback and basketball.”

“Geek or nerd?” 

“Personally, nerd probably.” Danny thinks about it. “But there’s not much opportunity to explore engineering and space in high school, so I’m mostly average. Tucker is a big geek, he’s great with computers. Does most of the coding for my more technological fixes when I’m working on my parent’s stuff.”

“You work with your parents a lot?” Dick’s phone chimes, but he ignores it.

“Not with them so much as on their stuff. They create it, they come up with a lot of cool stuff. I reverse-engineered a lot of it once it’s done.” 

“You said a lot of it was weapons?” Tim’s phone dings. “Damian says not to ignore his text.” 

“Oh!” Dick grabs for his phone.

“Some. They built other stuff as well, but they specialize in weapons and defenses against ghosts.” 

Dick immediately turns back to look at him. “Ghosts?” 

Danny could hear the doubt in his voice. He sighs. “Yeah, they’re ecto-biologists. Amity has a big ghost problem, that’s why we live there, they wanted to study them.” Danny has a slight shiver, but suppresses it. “They develop a lot of technology using ectoplasm-” Danny shudders for real this time. His squeezes his eyes closed, feeling a deep roiling in his gut that is vaguely nauseating, and a fire in his brain that is making his blood feel like it's burning. This is strange. His brain goes on overdrive, thinking about his parents, the blob ghosts he has had to free from their basement, the threats they make, them shooting at him. Danny recognises the churning in his body as ectoplasm riling up a core. His core.

But he’s not in his body, he shouldn’t have… Jason has died too. Danny opens his eyes and they’re glowing.

[themareverine]

MARE & THE WOLVERINE ▹ Good Poison

─ Logan Howlett x fem!OC

summary: The Northern Territories were the last place Mare McAffery ever imagined herself, much less a prize fighting bar with characters the likes of the one they call the Wolverine. A logging community and living out of a Motel 6—it wasn’t exactly Shakespearean. But sometimes, survival calls for a tooth and nail fight—even for a preacher’s daughter.

warnings: AU, age gap, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, eventual romance, violence, angst, trauma, religion, self-insert, self-esteem issues, chance meetings, alcohol, grief/morning, mutual pining, falling in love, slow-ish burn, fluff and angst, canon-typical violence, virginity, reposted from my old account.

MASTERLIST| NAVIGATION | NEXT | PREVIOUS

“I’ve never met a more obsessive, religiously fanatical, irresponsible press professional in my entire career, McAffery—and I’ve been doing this thirty fucking years!”

“Told you to drop that mutant BS, McAffery—”

Blue light from her phone lights up the shadowed seat beside her, interrupting the cruel sting of thoughts lapping her brain like a pace car. Redlined and leading, her attention briefly drifts from the yellow lines of highway to the bright screen that lingers—to the text bubble with the little avatar face of who else but her mother, checking in on her for only the fiftieth time tonight. 

“I’m fine, ma,” she sighs to empty space around her. A glance upward through the windshield to the night sky canvases unfamiliar constellations, stars she’s never seen this far north. Living north all her life had prepared her for a lot of, well, Canada— but not the stars. There seemed to be more of them, dancing in troops that quickened the soul. They’d been hanging in the sky for hours, now, and every time her gaze flicked up—never saw the same cluster.  

Diiiing. The sound avalanches in the cab, almost. “Jeez, I’m fine, ” it’s more of a growl than anything as she reaches for the phone. Silences it. Practically tossing it to the cup holder, she shifts a little further against her seat, her ass into the three decade-old cushion just like she’d been doing for two days. Shoulders pressing back into the material of her seatback, a slight shiver races up her spine where frigid air snakes into the cab of the Jeep between gaps in soft-top canvas—irritates the hunger that’s been low simmering in her stomach since before the sun had disappeared. 

A quick GPS consult and civilization is less than ten miles on her course. It promises a bar, a Motel 6, some gas. Nothing fancy. Reading in-between trying to stay between yellow highway lines reveals that Laughlin City is a logging community, one of those let’s-film-a-cheesy-Hallmark-romance little sports that show up in romantic novels and on travel blogs. It’s quiet with a limited population, mountainside and traditional. Perfect. 

Starting route to Laughlin City, you’re on the fastest route—-

“Considering I don’t see any freeways, I guess that tracks,” Frick, I’m turning into my mother talking to myself— and she had been, for two days. But that’s probably fine, better to keep herself company in the off-hours of radio. She couldn’t bear any more talk radio, didn’t have the caffeine or the patience to relive the same Shania Twain cassette tape for a twentieth time. 

Sighing, her head kicks back a little against the hard headrest behind her. Brightness from the GPS route is white-hot and blinding, has Mare McAffery turning her phone screen down to the fading 90s-print material of the passenger seat. She can see the little cloud from the hard breath she lets escape from between her lips, which subliminally raises the air on her arms. Sends a stab of cold through the bones in her hands. Even with air bursting from the defrost, it’s cold. Colder here, farther north, than her family’s quiet little farmland Minnesota home for this time of year—a t-shirt had felt like a good idea this morning at the truck stop. Splashing water on her face and smiling into sunshine. 

Her eyes drift to the dash clock as a hand reaches behind her to grope for the hoodie she’d abandoned. A little after 11—her time. Back home. Mare has no idea what time it is in Canada, under foreign stars and among unknown mountains. Though, really it doesn’t matter—time is a construct when you’re on the road. When you don’t really have anywhere to be in all that much of a hurry, when you’re getting out of Dodge and rethinking every strategic decision of your life.

God, what am I doing? Where are You in this? And the thought is random. Had been, for days. Quitting her job on the spot three weeks ago had felt like the move of the century, like a Neil Armstrong one-giant-leap-for-mankind on the moon type of deal. Once in a lifetime, defining. Must’ve been what the fathers of her nation felt, rising up to slay the Goliath oppressing them into submission—she’d bucked the power of corporate America, felt the sting of her whip for a final count. 

There’d never been more peace, more purpose about her life than in that moment, smiling down her nose at her boss. Knowing she’d left him in the lurch, had upset his canoe. Upstream without a paddle, take that you scumsucking piece of trash. Her guts had nearly risen up to her throat with the flood of pure adrenaline. Bolstered, like a shooting star— all hot and undiscerning strength. Every disgruntled employee in the history of the working class before her, caged within her bones. Finding justice in this one act, this flight. High flying and empowered, she’d crashed through the glass ceiling—unscathed, unravished. Free. 

Or so she prayed. 

Reality rose up to strike her like plague, chastened and vengeful. Leaving behind ghosts and midnight phantoms to haunt her even in sleep, her fears. Disease eating away at the flesh of her life, an insatiable predator unrelenting until satisfied. Picking its teeth with the bones of her future, the unknown. Grinning at her like a subtle, close-to-the-chest demon of her own making. Tapestry of her life began to unravel, unfurled by her own bravada, her own shield of faith in the unknown. Days bled eternally into weeks. Networking spiderwebbed away in the wind, disheveled and thin. Nothing aside from Oh-honey-I’m sorry’s and though-your-qualifications-are-impressive-we-regret’ s. 

Word traveled fast in rocks and cows country, not-the-Twin-Cities Minnesota.  Whoever didn’t look on her with sympathy dug her grave, or threw dirt on open wounds festering with her own shame. Nobody was eager to onboard the bloodhound trailblazing young lady with starry eyes and Superman hope. 

Singlehandedly she’d brought coverage of the community’s less-than-human population to hometown families and cropfarmers, faces nobody in her world desired. They’d kept the mutants at arm’s length, in the city and away from the grass that dances on the prairie; innocence of country living. Nobody wanted them in their ZIP code, their school districts—accidents raised taxes. No mayor wanted to address the subject at press conferences or on small city councils, no school board wanted funding for safe rooms or SPED. Better to lock them away in the concrete jungle of downtown, anonymous faces in a sea crying out for representation. 

Disarming a population’s ignorance had been a savage fight—soul crushing and abusive. Her head had been piked in every town-gossip-over-coffee table in the entire township, her family’s name raked over the coals in the editorials. Recklessly brave, but the greater good had come at a high, not-so-good price. Expensive for an under-thirty young little thing with bright aspirations, with a family standing behind her as pillars in a crumbling, paralyzed community.  

Better to turn a blind eye to the unfortunates than lend a hand likely to be bit, was the argument. Lambs to slaughter, all of her anonymous mutant sources had eviscerated from contact seemingly overnight—lost to anonymity, to the underworld of obscurity and fear. 

Foolish, simpleminded. White washed tombs, dens of vipers. Disheartened —didn’t they see—? 

A glance into the rearview and she’s able to make out the almost-cavernous upset digging trenches in the skin of her brow, the veil that’s overtaken once-bright eyes. All noted, even in the glare of blue light and shadows. She exhales deep and feels it, between her ribs. In, out—one, two, three; let it go, let it go let it go. That burning knot of lava that’s parked in between her shoulder blades shakes just a little, breaks apart. And for a brief moment, there’s cool relief that comes with another bite of May wind. Chases all the way down her spine, nips at her collarbones. 

Her grip tightens on the wheel, highway stretched unforgiving. Mocks her, reminding her how far away she’s attempting to fly, to hide . Inky midnight fans out before her— a lover, shadowing the world beyond the headlights of the Jeep Wrangler. Promising to hide her away, in a new world. The Wrangler seems to roar, engine loud in the empty night air, humming and thunking like old horsepower does. Whether in protest or jubilation, she’s not sure. Doesn’t even know if she wants to be. 

A wing and prayer. She’s left on a wing, with a prayer—it’ll carry her. To Laughlin, at least. 

Tires eat pavement like a beast, thrum thrum, thrumming away underneatht the rig almost in perfect step with the rabbit heartbeat kicking in her chest. Hears every rotation of rubber against asphalt through the canvas top. Tastes the cold bite of May night seeping through gaps and vinyl windows, cooling that still-there heat between her shoulders, that ache in the back of her eyes. 

Fiddling with the radio for the local news distracts her from GPS directions for a heartbeat. Almost missing the turnoff, she more forgoes the stop sign than actually misses it, engaging the clutch and brake to downshift. Skirting by the blaring scarlet of the sign, there’s no sign of headlights any direction at the four way. Except, in the distance, maybe five or so miles.

Between trees that canopy and dart in the breeze, trying to keep civilization a secret from the unsuspecting. Warring against the moon for rights to illuminate, to pierce through the veil of night—mountain peaks like dark sentinels, threatening and breathtaking in the faraway. Sits like a lion, stirring at the presence of the intruding Daniel. 

Laughlin City. 

“Bingo.” 

Mopping droplets of sweat pearling up from between his facial hair hasn’t ever felt more like a chore than it does right now, in the flickering light of a too-late pub crawling with county lowlives and province nobodies.  Every muscle burns with adrenaline that pistons through his veins like a hot steamroller, flattening any thought other than sucking air into his chest. Logan Howlett swears to God he can feel his very bronchial tubes with every pull of thick, curling air—wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t label every cell, working in unison to stitch him back together. 

It’s a delicate dance, healing after a fight. Body goes to work even before new wounds hit home—recovering from old ones, almost anticipating where new ones will land. Takes a significant amount of energy, a high unlike any amphetamine can deliver. Hot, heavy, painful bliss. That feel-good, fuck-this-is-perfect way he’s only ever experience in one other way—and that’s cock deep, in the right woman, red lines flaming down the length of his back. It’s taken a lifetime to ignore the adrenaline, the feel good burn of flesh stitching itself piece by piece. Wounds numbing over as the body corrects. Blood cut off from oxygen, sealed behind skin and screaming behind new scars. Bones correcting from fracture, pulled together with God-perfect precision no ER could ever match. Marrow stretching, cartilage welding back together. Feeling coming back with just as much prejudice as it had when it went. 

And it’s no different tonight, after a fight. Adamantium in his hands trembles, quakes with every beat of his pulse. Cold, itching with a sensation that only means one thing— air. Oxygen. Oxygen that fuels rage, that feeds the fire of release that’s a blazing furnace almost carved into the length of his spine. Bones, their marrow, they want air — crave it like demons. Flogging his soul like Christ at the crucifixion, crucifying him to the never-ending torment of holding it all together. Of balancing the line of monster and man, mortal and mutant. Ravages his will, rapes him of innocence, even in his youth. Even as a boy, even as James— he’d never had innocence. What even was purity to a man born to die but forced to live? 

He’d always been this, this h eld-together-with-threadbare-stitches-of-his-own-resolve carcass aching to die. Searching to live.

And it takes will, to live. Will of the ages, hills. Steadfastness of mountains to maintain the barrier between resolution and absolution. To not let go —to deny the impulses that scream through his blood like phantoms. Even the very stones beneath his feet cry out for his blood, for justice. Justice that had been lost through time, as others pass away. As he lives. His sins fade with those in graveclothes, but they haunt him like shadows. Peaceless life, ravaged. An ever-present war that carousels about his psyche. 

Don’t let go, Logan—don’t let them see you. Light a cigar. Suck in some brandy. Drown out the memories, the tombstones of everything he’s ever felt in his life rising up from buried graves and nameless mantras. It’s not for you, it’s for them. Never for you, always for them—

“—hey, you. Yeah, you— Mutton Chops. Yeah. It’s Wolverine, right?” 

He would chuckle if it wasn’t so ridiculous. Mutton Chops? 

Fingers scratch through the longer hairs, the corner of his mouth teases up with an amused smirk. Figures, they are a little dated. But, he enjoys them—he likes the way looks, always had. Cut a fine figure, and if he didn’t let himself know it, the women did. Been mooning over him since God knew . If he didn’t hate the attention, if he didn’t hate being seen; mingling with the echelon of the common man—-he could have any tit and skirt he wanted, most places. A few years of fucking anything that walked had lost its charm swiftly, and with gusto. 

Logan had learned early that he needed very few things in life to live, to survive. Living demanded the basic essentials, and a man isn’t truly a man unless he makes his own way. Women, well—girls were a luxury . Rubies and emeralds among the silver and golds of the everyday. High prices. Precious things in the eyes of God and the male sex, to be worshiped. Certainly so, can’t argue with the Twains and Shakespeares, the Psalmists of the ages—but they weren’t necessary. Not to survive. Little delicacies to make the journey tolerable, but not necessary. Privileges never were.  

“Wolverine—I’m talkin ’ to you!” 

But the alias is familiar, but the voice isn’t. Logan tosses back the bite of brandy that burns all the way down, snaps his attention from the bottom of the shot glass to the guy coming up behind him. Feet heavy, he’s at least six-two, two-fifty at a glance guess. Beer gut and a bald dome, some redheaded tart from across the bar reaching to pull him back. May as well be Vegas neon. Trouble—double order, by the looks of it. 

Shoulda been my middle name, “In some circles,” warmth skates into his blood, pulling at the attitude simmering at the edges of his resolve, “who’s askin’?” Fixing the edge of his shirt around the waist of his jeans, Logan ignores the instinctual twinge of pain that ricochets between his knuckles. One slip of his self control and there’s hell to pay—bloody, tastes-like-cold-steel hell.

Instead, his arms find the smooth bartop, glass hitting the bar with a crack. Logan pushes it away knuckles first, fingers tapping for another round. The bartender, he knows her as Sue—an aging sixties belle, witchy hair that’s perpetually pinned up in a clip—breezes by and snatches it away, promising him another with a hoarse, been-smoking-for-four-decades rasp. In seconds and the dark liquid spills into the shot glass, crystalline and pretty. 

Logan waves her come with two fingers, easing a little deeper into his usual barstool—the barstool he’s been parked in for eight months. Rolls a shoulder. A delicious little burn of healing muscle, dissipating bruises. Common place after a fight in the cage—there’s not enough curiosity in the eyes that are watching him. And he’s counting the paces of Big Boy coming up behind him, can feel the man’s anger from here. Tangible and inbred, like he’s been sucking the tit of pissed off since toddlerhood. 

The man’s huge hand is on his shoulder, jerking him back enough that it makes the barstool swivel. Logan’s spine snaps with alarm, with the initial gut punch of response. And he’s surprised with himself for a few heartbeats, that he’s chosen to shrug off the man’s arm instead of separate it from his body. A low, rumbling thunder of a growl simmering in his chest is almost animal, and he narrows a glare at the stranger. 

Sweating like a stuck pig, the man’s face is red as a beet. He’s a blush from either absolutely going batshit or having a coronary—Logan isn’t sure which he’d prefer. “I lost four hundred bucks because of you, Wolverine,” the name leaves his mouth with hacking spit, on the crescendo of a trail of spit that hits the floor at Logan’s feet in a wet plop . 

And for a second Logan expected Shit-For-Brain’s to continue, but he just stands there, sucking air.

“Tough luck,” Logan’s brows pop tall before furrowing into a hard line, irritation snapping  his tone like a fractured bone. Palming the pocket of his leather jacket taking up space on the barstool next to him, he manages a cigar from the pocket, with the God-knew-how-old Zippo. His favorite, he’d had it since—well. He didn’t keep track of trinkets. “Long odds, I guess.”

“The fuck you say?” 

He sighs. Deeply. Almost from the depths of his patience God has bestowed. “Anythin’ I can say that’ll make you vanish, bub?” Beer Belly doesn’t even flinch, except the hinge of his jaw snaps open. It could almost sway in the wind. Another sigh, “Take my word for it. Cut your losses and get Little Miss Strawberry Tart outta here—maybe she’ll cut you a deal on the way out.” 

In a matter of seconds the guy’s face drops into a gape only a choking fish could probably manage, and he really isn’t that far removed with all his sticky sweat making him look like a drowned, overfat bass. He stops sucking air like an emphysemic, maybe too stupefied to remember how. Logan’s fingers flick the flint of the lighter, cigar between his teeth as it bobs into the flame. Almost immediately, the thick curl of smoke stings his nose—chases the brandy in his throat, something magnificent . Fucking delicious. 

Small mercies, God bless them. Breathing in a wave of the thick, hot tobacco, it settles in the mesh of his lungs in a way that would probably kill lesser men—men who couldn’t die, anyway. He could fucking orgasm with how good this smoke burns, bleeding into his blood like good poison, and the exhale he gives may as well whip fifty pounds off the back of his shoulder. His head kicks back, brow furrowing as it cants to the side, taking in the craft of the ceiling. Brass tile— pricy . Riz didn’t strike him as a man with taste, but, stranger things. Interesting. 

In a flesh of fat and hairless dome, the man’s fist is curled around the collar of Logan’s shirt—he plucks him off the stool as if he weren’t anything more than a sack of meat. Surprise drops his cigar to the floor at his feet, the toes of his boots scuffing boards—and one glance to the man’s flexed arm reveals it’s absolutely straining for Beer Belly to suspend his bodyweight in the open. The vein in his temple throbs, cheeks almost purple as he splutters for air. Spit flies. Mingles in Logan’s beard. 

Revolting, but, give it a few seconds and—-

His boots find the floor heartbeats later, unphased. Logan’s turn, and it gives him great pleasure backhanding the man with his knuckles. Turning his head, saliva flying in trails of thick spit that hit somewhere he couldn’t care less about. Drive him half a step back, bring him back with his fist in tubby’s shirt—and mutant strength makes him weigh next to nothing. A little weight there, but nothing much—Logan could separate his spine from the rest of him without hesitation, thinking. Would be as easy as fileting a fat trout. 

The burn in his muscles feels magical.  And in three, two, one—he releases. Blood springs from between his knuckles, dribbling to the floor in fat drops. Scarlet stains adamantium, pearling along blades that all but sparkle in the perfect-low of pub lights. The burst of adrenaline immediately ravages the burn of pain, his bones all but ringing, chanting jubilation. And it feels so good, sometimes—so good to not have to hold back, to embrace the pain of living . 

Milkwhite, the man’s eyes haven’t unwelded from the blades dripping with Logan’s blood as they hover a breath from the fat flesh of his double-chin. Logan can see his life flashing through his eyes, like a film reel—every man’s always does in the face of death, his face. He’s shaking, Logan’s muscle absorbs every earthquake that pulses through the man’s frame. Shakes more than most—and that says more than it would, to many. Coward’s heart. Shriveled and died before they even got a chance to respond, he’d seen it before. Always took the easy way out. Talked big, acted small. His date would have better luck with an idiot savant than a coward, if Beer Belly here wasn’t a two-for-one. 

King Solomon had it right. Nothing new under the sun. 

“Told you to cut your losses,” it’s a snarl. Gravelled and aged, like every time before. Less human than monster, but he likes the fear—the respect —floating up to the man’s eyes from his soul. Logan releases him roughly, sending him foot over foot towards his date, across the floor. “Take her home before you regret somethin’ else.” 

Strawberry redhead is at his side, looking him over before she turns to consider Logan. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-something, too young to be running with a greaseball nobody with male pattern baldness and a Viagra problem. But tears run freely down her face all the same, as if she cares— and she probably does, because that’s the way of things. People care. It’s a human trait.  

All Logan can see is her enchantment with him. She isn’t afraid. While her date may have a coward’s heart, she certainly doesn’t—no common sense, a dense head, sure. But no fear. Funny how that works.

He’d smile if he wasn’t so pissed off, tired. And she doesn’t look him in the eye—her gaze is rooted on his hand, now at his side. His blood hanging out on the floor.  She blinks, only looks up at his face when the adamantium on display disappears between his fingers, sliding home in a way that echoes throughout his entire frame. Evidence of them begins to disappear as his flesh works to hide away familiar wounds, correct old sins. 

Her mouth, too, gapes like a fish. Nothing new. “You’re….you’re— wow, you’re a—” 

“—nobody you should care about, kid.” And that’s the long and short truth of it. 

Logan watches her help—he’s discovered his name is Harold—stand to his full height. Helps him sulk into a corner chair like a whipped puppy, and even from here, the purple on his jaw is already dark. Probably broken, but there’s little to do about it. 

Brushing off his arm, Logan lifted his other hand to examine it—pearls of blood. Still fresh on his skin. Evidence of their birth long since healed, he stretched his fingers before his thumb rubs between each knuckle, feeling. As if he’s never felt them before—because every time, the pain feels like it’s genesis. The beginning, new. A thrill unlike any other, in a sadistic kind of way that gives him life. Hope—that he’s still feeling. 

Turning to retrieve his cigar smoldering on the floor, Logan replaces it in the corner of his mouth. Takes another full breath, sinks low onto the barstool. The sting in his hands has almost entirely dissipated into tingling numbness, and that’s good—Sue knocks his drink to a stop in front of him. Shakes her head as her eyes landscape him up and down, like they’re digging his grave. She isn’t mad, he knows that—Sue has seen him rough up more than one Tom, Dick, Harry in this place. It’s like the revolving sun—they come in. Fight the cage. They lose, get pissed, and he knocks them on their ass. Simple science, really. 

Less dangerous and more dangerous all at the same damn time. 

“Feel better?” Thin, vein-tracked arms fold in front of her gravity-inspired chest. Heavy laden with turquoise and other painted stones, she’s the picturesque woman of her age—all gypsy, little else. If they’d be deep south in States, Sue could be confused for a bayou witch. And, thinking about her stirring a little pot of potions and cackling on to swamp creatures would be something else entirely. 

He chuckles, the mental picture amusing. Leaning forward a little on his arms, his brow peaks up a little. “Now there’s a question if I ever heard one,” his lips purse into a slow smile before he sits back, scratches his fingers through his sideburns— mutton chops, poor Harold had called them. “What do you think?”  

A lesser man wouldn’t hear it, but that bottom hinge on the front door howls something terrible in the rain. Signaling another interloper in their midst, Sue’s eyes flick past him to consider the body. It lasts a heartbeat, maybe the flow of blood, before her gaze is back to him—obviously no threat. Except, her arthritic hands reaching for a towel moves her a little closer, and she nods towards the door. 

“I think you’d better behave yourself,” she gestures with her chin towards the door, “new blood walkin’ in, Logan honey.” Nodding his understanding, he drags again at his cigar, then turns his head over his shoulder to eyeball the new body—- “Never seen her before. States girl, if I ever saw one,” Sue’s tongue clicks in the pocket of her cheek, “Poor thing’s wet as a drowned lizard. What she do, park half a mile away?” 

Drowned lizard? “Anyone ever told you you’re somethin’ else, Sue?” 

“Plenty—but don’t ask, Logan. Some things stay dead when you bury ‘em.” Her wink makes him snort, as if it’s something to joke about—and it is, really. To a man who flirts with death and defies it at every turn, nothing really surprises him anymore. The grave is little more than a calling card, and Sue knows that. Riz knows that. Everyone here knows this, but, chooses instead to look the other way—see him for what he is. 

Sue’s crooking a come finger at new blood before she’s even fully parted ways with him. “Hiya, honey. C’mere, sit down—we don’t bite.” Logan raises a Really? brow at her before Sue waves him off with a flapping hand. It takes everything he has not to smile at the old woman, but instead, he swivels a little. Back to the newcomer, who’s dropping into the corner barstool, well away from him and into the shadows. 

“Speak for yourself,” 

Sue whirls on him and tosses the towel she’s been keeping bar with at his face. Batting it away, he downs the brandy. “Oh, hush up!” Her chin gestures across the bar, to the cage—veiled in shadows, it’s little more than a knick knack without its lights, screaming crowds and humming jukebox that gathers every night at ten. Money changing, saliva flying—it sleeps like a tired beast until he rings the dinner bell.  “Well, most of us don’t bite—what’ll you have, darlin’?.” 

 If that wasn’t truth, well—Logan wasn’t sure what was. 

tags: @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @fandomxo00

[synthetickitsune]

Hello can you do #25 with Sehun from prompt list

“Can we talk? What are we? What are we doing?”

*narrator voice: the writer was too stunned too speak* - listen i rewrote this thing like three times, it's been in my drafts for months and i'm still not satisfied but in 2024, i'll accept that some things can't be helped lmao

Sehun (EXO) | “Can we talk? What are we? What are we doing?” fluff | 0.9k words | gn!reader

The engine purrs, you hum and bob your head to the beat while he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. He keeps his eyes on the road, but he nods towards the cup of boba tea in the holder. You reach for the cup and lift it to his lips so he can take a long sip from the straw. You use the opportunity to drink from your own cup too. The second you put the cups back, there’s a hand squeezing your thigh appreciatively. You push back the feeling of something squeezing your heart too. You’re always doing that.

“You know, this just proves you didn’t need my help,” you scoff. His hand is warm, a comfortable added weight.

“I’m already driving you around. This is the least you can do,” Sehun dismisses you, ready to bicker with you every second of the day. He doesn’t mention he also paid for the drinks and neither do you.

His fingers are snug around the curves of your thigh. You dread the moment he’ll let go.

But being occupied by that, you don’t notice you’re spacing out and staring at him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he smirks, and you think - what the hell, why not. Whatever you say he’ll find a way to push your buttons anyway. So you take out your phone and turn on the camera, clicking a blurry picture while he stops at the red light.

He tries to snatch the phone from your hands but you’re quicker, and the light turns green. You put the device safely back into your pocket. He frowns.

“What? Are you going to sue me?” you huff but it’s not with a laugh as he expected. As you expected too. Instead you’re looking at your phone with a frown matching his and your chest feels tight.

Where’s this coming from? The feelings, unwanted, rush through you. You’d like to blame exhaustion, stress, whatever, but you can’t. Not right now. Not when you know, deep down, that the feelings spill out because you’ve been holding them back for too long. And then his stupid hand still on your thigh. He didn’t let go even if it meant he’d get your phone.

“y/n?” he calls your name. His voice sounds unsure and you don’t blame him. You’re quite surprised you snapped so suddenly too. You want to play it off as a joke or something, but you’re not sure you could pretend as well as you’d need to. You’re tired of pretending.

“Can we talk, Sehun?” you rub your eyes just so you don’t have to look at him, look at anything. Maybe not seeing will make you impossible to see as well. “What are we? What are we doing?”

Just then the car stops and there’s complete silence. Awkward silence. Your thigh feels cold. You open your eyes and let them adjust to light again. Not ready to face your best friend yet, you look out the window. You’re at the mall, you’re where you’re supposed to be. You swallow and risk a brief glance at Sehun. He doesn’t look at you but he licks his lips, he breathes out all the air in his lungs before inhaling deeply again. And then he brings the car back to life and starts driving.

“What are you doing? Sehun?” you panic, barely stopping yourself from grabbing onto his arm or leg. It’s not like he’ll run anywhere but that’s maybe worse. You watch him turn the steering wheel and get the car moving again, slowly navigating through the parking lot. 

“Sehun?” your voice drops into a quiet whisper that finally alerts him to look at you. His eyes widen when he sees how upset you look. He has a car to drive, though, other vehicles and people to avoid. He pays attention to what he’s doing while he clumsily cups your face with one hand and strokes your cheek. He smiles when he hears you sigh in relief.

“Give me some face, will you?” he laughs softly, “I’m not asking you out at a mall.”

You’re so happy he doesn’t sound mad that it takes a second for your body to tense and freeze in a spot. Ask you out? “W-What do you mean? Where are we going then?”

You feel like the world is passing by too fast but you know he’d never drive recklessly, not with you in the car too. 

“We are going to my place, so we can both change into something more appropriate before I take you to dinner,” he explains, coolly, like he had the whole thing planned out from the beginning - which you very much doubt by the nervous clenching of his hands around the steering wheel.

“Asking me out in the car isn’t much better than asking me out in the mall,” you laugh, shifting in your seat, trying to ease some nerves in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m not asking you out, I’m telling you you’re going,” he says and his voice waivers at the end, but you’re too busy trying to get your cheeks to cool down to notice, “And once we had the dinner and a nice evening, then I’ll ask you to go out with me.”

He looks shyer than he sounded when he looks at you, but then again it’s not like you’re not a mess too. His eyes flicker between the road and you and you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“That sounds nice,” your voice comes out smaller than you meant to, so you clear your throat, “I like it.”

He exhales in relief.

It’s no surprise to either of you when a similar scene plays out again much later in the evening.

[diazheartsbuckley]

In the line of love 💕

Hi angel 💕

I’ve answered that one here

But here’s another snippet 💋

(For context, Adam is Eddie’s partner at the precinct and Molly is Buck’s friend and coworker who he has known for years)

TW: mentions of blood and gun violence

There had been something off about this particular day. Eddie had been late to work for the first time in years, rushing out of Buck’s bed without kissing him goodbye. Then he had spilled scorching hot water down his body while doing the dishes in the break room.

He was in the patrol car with Adam, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as he stared blankly ahead of him, completely unaware of the fact that Adam had been talking to him for the past five minutes about some girl that he had met recently.

“You with me?” His partner questioned, sensing that there was something off about Eddie.

“Sorry, bad morning” Eddie chuckled and released the steering wheel a little, allowing blood flow back to his hands.

Adam was about to make a snarky comment about how Buck had probably kept him up all night when an eerie call came in over the radio.

“Attention all units. We have an active shooter situation at UCLA Medical Center, proceed with caution. I repeat, active shooter at UCLA Medical Center”

“Isn’t that-…”

“Where Buck works” Eddie’s mind can’t stop spinning yet he has to remain focused, his heart pounding against his ribs.

“Dispatch, this is Unit 12. Show us going” Adam spoke into the radio, Eddie’s foot already on the gas, swerving in and out of traffic, lights and sirens paving the way for him.

“Copy, Unit 12”

As Eddie navigated the tense drive, his phone buzzed urgently in the cup holder next to him. Relief washed over him when he saw Buck’s name and picture on the screen. Adam grabbed the phone and put it on speaker.

“Buck, are you alright? Are you at the hospital? Are you safe?” Eddie asked quickly. Buck wasn’t supposed to be at work today. He had worked nearly 72 hours straight this week and he needed to be at home, resting.

But the phone call from him would soon indicate that something else entirely was going on. At first, Buck didn’t speak and when he did, his voice was barely above a whisper and with every word that he spoke, his voice sounded like it was going to break.

“I don’t know what happened, Eddie. They just-just came in and-and-and started to shoot people. I’m-.. I’m-..”

Buck’s breathing was strained and panicked as he spoke, clearly trying to calm himself down before continuing to speak. Eddie could tell that someone else was with him, whimpering in pain. “-… with Molly. She’s been shot. It’s really bad, Eddie. I don’t-… I don’t think I can save her. There’s blood everywhere”

Despite Buck used to the stress and the tense atmosphere of the ER, this was nothing compared to that. Right now, it didn’t feel like he was a doctor. It didn’t feel like he was anything at all. Except scared to die.

“I can’t stop it, Eddie. He-…he shot her twice in the stomach”

Eddie's heart sank, adrenaline surging as he pushed the gas pedal harder. Before he could respond, Buck’s voice trembled again

"I have to go. We need to stay quiet. It’s okay, Molly. We’re going to be okay”

The line went silent, and then a muffled thud echoed through the phone. Eddie's pulse quickened as gunshots erupted in the background, only seeming to come closer with every single shot.

Using this as my Fuck It Friday 🫢

It’s a very rough draft of both action and dialogue but I’m so excited to write and wanted to share 🥹

Tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 and you @daffi-990 💋

Tagging!! @jesuisici33 @cal-daisies-and-briars @callmenewbie @butraura @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @knightlywonders @fionaswhvre @wikiangela @athenagranted 💗🦋

[secondwhisper]

The posts complaining about public noise - loud phone conversations, teens watching tiktoks on the bus, joggers blasting music - are, to me, very reminiscent of the anti-electric-scooter wave of a few years ago.

The point of similarity is that people are identifying a symptom of the problem rather than the root of the problem, then attacking the individuals who carry that symptom into the complainer's observance.

Yes, I get it, the discarded scooter takes up sidewalk space, and the ridden scooter moves faster than a walker yet slower than a bicyclist. The skateboarder, slow walker, lost tourist, roller blader, dog walker, power chair user, rollator user, and running child also complicate the pace of flow on facilities designed for non-motorized traffic. But look at the facilities! Even on a section designed to modern standards, you've got a 5-foot-wide sidewalk, 3 feet for trees and utility poles, 8 feet for parallel parked cars, 3 feet of bike lane, and 2 feet of bike lane buffer. Each lane of active traffic will be at least 10 feet wide, possibly as much as 14 feet! But instead of decrying the pittance of a 5 foot wide passable strip of concrete, with maybe one bike rack per block, we complain about the scooters (and the lost tourists, the running children, the slow walkers, etc). Because those movements contrary to "normal" flow appear on the individual scale, within arm's reach and camera view, unlike the dedication of wide space to vehicular traffic.

So, then, the nuisance noises. The crying babies, the tiktok viewers, the music players, the loud conversation holders, the barking dogs, the max-volume ringtones, the odd stranger laughing and exclaiming to themself. These sounds are unpredictable, grating, loud, frustrating... Each is frequently the straw that breaks the camel's back, when it comes to auditory overwhelm among even "normal" people. But a camel's back does not break from just a few straws. Why do we see such fewer complaints about the droning road noise, the blaring sirens and loudspeakers, the whine of generators and air conditioners, the intermittent hum of airplane and helicopter, the businesses pumping ads into their patio music, the rattling of poorly maintained train tracks? And, of course, there's the hard grey infrastructure - glass, steel, concrete, asphalt - that causes the inescapable buzz to reverberate and proliferate down every street and up to the top floor of every building. These noises form a backdrop, a system which each resident must navigate. The baby must cry louder than the train; the tiktok must play louder than the sirens; the phone must ring louder than the car horns. But we complain on the individual scale, critique the apparent single people ruining our days, because they are the ones within arm's reach and camera view. It is more comprehensible, more approachable, to demand the individual contain themself than the whole built space quiet itself.

Without an organized response to the constructed ways our senses and movements are limited, we are forced to turn on each other. We must learn to see apparently bothersome neighbors as fellows who are wronged by what also wrongs us. We must work together to rebuild our living spaces centered on individual and community pleasure, without regard for economic convenience.

[furrywerewolffire]

Get yours now: https://technoant.com/products/car-mirror-phone-holder?ref=reacher

This is the best car gadget of 2024

This mirror phone holder keeps your device at eye level, directly in your line of sight, allowing you to view navigation and notifications safely.

This strategic placement significantly reduces distractions and enhances your driving safety.

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[sweetiesicheng]

dino - car ride

word count : 510

-

"punch buggy!"

"ow!"

you huffed out in annoyance as you drove.

"that hurt," you said to dino, who was chuckling.

"sorry, y/n," he apologized. "oh, take this exit," he instructed. you looked at the signs and moved into the next lane.

you took the exit and continued driving back home after attending an old high school classmate’s wedding for the weekend. however, you had been driving since the early morning and had already stopped twice to grab food and to take a break. you yawned as you kept driving, entering a town that was full of motels and fast food joints, clearly for traveling tourists.

"you okay?" dino asked you, noticing your tiredness.

"mhm," you replied, "oh, i'm gonna fill up the car," you mentioned, noticing a gas station and pulling into it once you were close enough. you parked at a gas pump and unbuckled your seat belt. you turned the car off and almost opened the door when dino held you back.

"hey, i'll drive the rest of the way home," he said and smiled at you.

"are you sure?" you asked him.

he nodded, "mhm. i don't want you to get too sleepy, and you didn't sleep too much either. you should take a nap, the coffee definitely wore off," he suggested with a laugh.

you nodded at him and reached in to kiss his cheek. "thank you," you said and he kissed you back.

"of course." he unbuckled his seat belt and both of you got of his car. you went to the gas pump and starting pumping more gas into the car. "go sit in the car," dino instructed while standing next to you. "oh, do you want any snacks? i'm gonna buy a drink," he mentioned.

you shook your head as you opened the front passenger seat door. your boyfriend nodded and walked to the store. you got into the car and pulled the door closed. then, you immediately reclined the seat back a bit, finally a bit more comfortable.

dino came back out a few minutes later and took the gas pump out of the car and back onto the machine. then, he got into the car, putting his drink into one of the cup holders.

however, he noticed that you had fallen fast asleep in your new seat. he smiled and reached over to buckle your seatbelt. he grabbed his coat from the backseat and draped it over you before turning the car back on.

you opened your eyes and sat up a tiny bit, waking up from the feeling of the jacket over you. dino noticed and put his hand on your thigh, patting it, "sleep, baby," he said to you.

"do you want me to navigate?" you asked and he shook his head.

"no, it's okay. just sleep," he smiled and leaned over to kiss your forehead.

you immediately laid back down and fell right back asleep. dino used your phone to navigate since it still had the gps pulled up and started driving away from the gas station.

[mistresskayla-blog1]

Disembodied Souls

Characters: Harry Kennedy x OC Iara Chepi (Guale Native American)

Lyn's Writing Event - Week 3 - Day 18

Part 1.

May 18th: Week 3: Indigenous

Characters: Harry Kennedy x OC Guale Iara Chepi  (ghost lady of the water)

Fandom: Richard Armitage – Harry Kennedy – Vicar of Dibley

The characters of Harry Kennedy and Geraldine Granger were created for television by Paul Mayhew-Archer and Richard Curtis

Word Count: 2k

Location: Savannah, GA – river valley  (modern times)

Warnings: dreams, hallucinations, out of body, consciousness altering, ghosts, anxiety, panic attack, disorientation, kissing,

            Harry and Geraldine had arrived in the US without much incident. The Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport in Atlanta, Georgia  was vast and took some getting used to for Geraldine. Harry was doting and casual as they strode through customs and made it to the rental car. Harry offered to drive, and Geraldine insisted she wanted to learn.

“Harry, I think if I’m going to be here, I should learn something.” Geraldine said.

Harry chuckled, “I just think it might be better if we hired someone to drive us to Savannah”

Geraldine looked at him perturbed, “Do you want to drive?” she queried standing at the rental counter. Harry shrugged and looked at Geraldine with fondness, “No love, I don’t really, but I will if you want me to.” Geraldine smiled, and they kissed in front of the clerk. Geraldine smiled back at the clerk, “Yes, we will need a car, please, thank you.” The clerk finished their reservation and directed them out into a parking lot. Geraldine took the keys and paperwork and Harry walked her out. They walked up the stalls looking for the one marked Kennedy, and placed their bags in the trunk of the car. Geraldine started the car, adjusting the seat and looking at all the gadgets in the dash.

“Oh my, there is a lot here to distract oneself isn’t there. She looked at the smooth paneled screen in the middle of the console, “Oh look Harry you can watch telly on this its so big, my lord.” Harry smiled in a chuckle, “I think we can use it for navigation.” He turned it on, and searched the menu, plugging in the host hotels coordinates. Geraldine had set the keys down in the cup holder and pushed the “start” button by the steering wheel. The engine fired up and she pulled out hesitantly out of the stall.

25 minutes later, they were on the round about highway system in Atlanta, heading southeast towards Savannah. The GPS read out that they would reach their destination in about 4 hours. Geraldine let out a big sigh, “Boy they certainly make a girl travel don’t they?”  Harry nodded, “Yes 4 hours plus the flight, we will have traveled nearly 24 hours since we left home. It will be nice to get some fresh air and a good rest. Good thing we flew in early.” Harry checked the itinerary on his phone, “Your meetings start at 9 am tomorrow.” Geraldine rolled her eyes, “Well at least we can find some dinner on the way,”

They stopped for a bite and made it to their hotel by 10 pm local time. There bodies were worn down and they both crashed in their clothes, flopping down on top of the covers as soon as they entered the room.

---

The next morning Geraldine roused and kissed Harry on the cheek, “Wakey wakey, sleepy head.” Harry groaned and rolled over, “Oh gosh, did we sleep like this all night?” he asked. Geraldine looked at him, “Yeah we did.” Harry stretched and started taking off his jacket, shirt and pants. Geraldine was already dressed and ready. Harry looked at her, “What time is it?” He looked at his watch, realizing he hadn’t shifted it yet, and looked to the nightstand clock. It was 830 am.

Geraldine yawned a bit, and kissed him, “I’m going to grab a spot of breakfast, are you joining me?” she said, looking at him in his shorts, and winking.

Harry looked down at himself, “Best not. I will catch up with you at lunch though, ya?”

Geraldine, “Fair enough. See you then, love you.” Harry blew her a kiss and headed for the shower.

---

After an adequate shower and a change of clothes, Harry headed out of the hotel for a stroll. He had heard there was a lovely park along the river nearby, so he started walking. About a block away is a very large colonial cemetery, Harry walked along its edge, humming a tune that he didn’t know. It was mid-morning, and the sun lit up the place in vibrance. Harry kept walking despite the gates being open for tourists.

Harry continued through the bustle of the city and towards his destination, Emmet Park, a brilliant stroll through large Oak trees, where Spanish moss hung in ominous drafts across the long lateral branches. The park was sparse of people and Harry happily strolled through it. Stopping by one of the large oaks, to rest a bit. He closed his eyes a mere second and fell straight asleep, his head tucking into his chest, his long legs crossed and outstretched, not quite blocking the pathway for others.

Harry looked like a temperance painting propped against the trunk of the tree. The sun went behind the clouds and the moss seemed to grow deeper and grey in the paling of the light. The moss grew closer to him, surrounding him, Harry was dreaming already. Or was he?

Harry saw a lone figure near the edge of the water. She rose from the riverbed, water soaking her clothes, but not sheeting off. She had dark black hair, and hollow eyes. She walked slowly through the park, towards Harry’s sleeping form by the towering old oak. Harry fell deeper into sleep, and his body slumped against the ground to his side. His form flattening the patch of grass he was on. The woman approached him, in her shroud of garments, it matched her greying skin, and Harry could see her, even though his body was asleep. Harry started to panic a bit. How could he be looking at himself, he thought. How was he out of his body?

The sky was billowing white, and the trees were bright green, and the moss was growing, the ominous feeling crept into Harry’s consciousness, making him shudder. Harry’s body still lay slumped on the ground. Passersby gave him no notice. And Harry couldn’t feel his chest, he touched his chest, and he couldn’t feel his heart. But his mind was alive with worry and panic.

He tried to breathe, but he couldn’t feel his breath. He closed his eyes to gather his wits, but that didn’t change what he was feeling, or how he was floating above the scene watching it play out. The woman touched down to the earth, and slowly approached Harry’s limp body. She leaned down, brushing her lips against his, and Harry watched, absolutely horrified and intrigued in the same moment. The moments ticked by, as she moved closer to Harry’s body, and laid against it, rolling him over onto his back. Her dampness wearing a stain against his trousers and shirt. She moaned against him, in a way that wasn’t unnatural to Harry’s boyish ears. It just seemed misplaced in this moment.

She pressed herself further into him, and Harry shuddered as she entered his body, a coarse light opened up from his heart center, and the spectre poured inside him. The light flashed close and left his body intact, although a bit damp.

Harry’s eyes on the ground shot open, and someone was touching Harry’s chest, but it wasn’t Harry. The spectre, the woman was inside Harry’s body now. Their souls were switched, Harry, mouthed the word no, as he was unable to speak. Unable to gasp, unable to pound on his chest and wake himself up from this nightmare. The figure below, that was himself, touched his chest, and smoothed out his shirt, then smiled beguilingly and looked up towards Harry at the branch of the tree. The eyes weren’t Harry’s they flashed a dark grey then to black, then back to brilliant blue, within an instant.

Harry watched himself stand up, stretch and start to walk away, but where was he/she going?

---

Harry started to panic feeling his grip slipping away as his body walked away from him. Then he felt a pull to this new form he was in, it passed through the air like a wind and swept him along, several feet above his now strolling body. He was still connected, an instant of elation swept over him. He could still get back in, if he could figure out how. Now as an incorporeal entity himself thoughts Geraldine’s discussion about the afterlife and souls sprang up, as his new softened form was being more or less dragged down the street by an unseen tether of consciousness.

The Spectre strutted down the street, smiling at various people on the sidewalk, and winking at quite a few people too. Harry cringed to see that, and kept his gaze firm, trying to deduce how to get back into himself. The Spectre heads back in the direction of the hotel, and enters the lobby. Geraldine is in the lobby on a break, looking for Harry. The Spectre sees a large woman looking at Harry expectantly and reacts in a normal fashion, opening Harry’s arms to her. Geraldine hugs Harry appreciatively. And the Spectre whispers into Geraldine’s ear, but Harry cannot hear it from his place above them. He watches Geraldine stiffen, and then look at Harry disapprovingly. Harry puts his non-existent hand to his nonexistent face in wonder.

Geraldine steps away from Harry, trying to smile, “Harry, we can’t. I still have more meetings to go to, maybe later, you cad,” that gorgeous smile of hers ringing through. Harry melted from above, he really loved that lady. The Spectre must have said something graphic, he wished he knew what it was.

Geraldine took Harry by the hand and led him to lunch. Geraldine watched as Harry looked at the food with such eagerness, and watched everyone around them, eating slowly and savoring bites. “Harry, are you sure you are alright?” Geraldine asked.

The Spectre looked at her, “yeah, yes, I think the fresh air made me, more hungry”, he responded. Harry could hear that from above and realized that the Spectre must have been without a vessel for sometime and was now reveling in being able to do human things again.

Harry thought to himself, “I guess that is kind of sweet, although disrespectful to take someone’s body like this.”

The group finished lunch, Geraldine gave Harry a brisk kiss, and then headed for a conference room. The Specter, putting her hand in Harry’s pocket found a key card, looked at it puzzled and decided to wander around the hotel a bit. Harry floating above her/him, them, tried to think how to get them to talk to him. How could he communicate to them. Could he lure them to a mirror or a room or something?

“Think, Harry think. There has got to be a way to get their attention”

The Spectre looked up at the ceiling then, locking eyes with Harry, and grinning devilishly, the eyes shifting again to black. Harry shuddered, knowingly. The Spectre found a staircase and walked up it, opening doors and walking through corridors calmly. Harry of course followed without preamble. Harry tried to think if there was a way to talk to it through his mind, presuming that his body still had some grasp of that. Figuring it was the thought that brought about the response, he was hopeful, and told the Spectre to use the card to get into the room down the hall. Harry noticed they were on the correct floor for his and Geraldine’s room.

The Spectre nodded and removed the key card from Harry’s pants pocket, Harry though hard to indicate to hold it up along the door handle. The door clicked and the Spectre turned the handle slowly, entering the room. The Spectre looked around, as if expecting to see someone else in there. Harry kind of chagrinned, the Spectre set the key card down on the dresser and stood facing the mirror. Harry was hovering above it, and somehow, he felt the ability to just shift down to the floor, near it at least.

(part 2 in the new week)

Taglist: @scariusaquarius

@enchantzz @sweetestgbye @middleearthpixie @legolasbadass @lathalea @riepu10 @evenstaredits @amylupotter

[tomtenadia]

Meet the Whitethorns - An ALB outtake

Here I am again to the world of ALB. I honestly miss the gang at east station pretty badly. For a wee while I have been working on some outtakes and this is the first one. It’s set three months after their wedding. This is a 6.8k monster with Rowaelin honeymoon in Wendlyn.  A few notes: In modern AUs my Rowaelin first girl is called Maya. I did a bit of research for this fic and apparently in Maori culture it means bravery, courage and well...now I think the name is even more perfect.

Secondly, they visit Mistward and in my head I have an exact image of how it looks like. There’s a castle in Italy near Genova. this place is called CASTELLO DELLA PIETRA the stone castle and this is Mistward for me.

Enjoy ❤️

“Why can’t we fly like all normal human beings is beyond me,” Aelin closed up her hiking backpack and turned to her husband who was finishing preparing the few bags needed for their trip.

They had three weeks of honeymoon and had decided to go to Doranelle and meet his family. She had been excited. Alas, her hubby refused the idea of flying commercial so they were going to drive to Rifthold, take a ferry to Varese for the six hours trip and then drive all the way to Doranelle. His excuse was that she was pregnant and she might find driving more comfortable. Aelin knew better. As an ex airforce pilot he could not suffer having other people flying and he did not trust commercial pilots. So in the end she had caved. It was going to be two long days on the road, but they had an hotel booked in Varese for the night.

“I am not trusting the life of my pregnant wife in the hands of one of them,” his strong hand slid on her hips and moved at the front on her baby bump. They had been married for three months already and they had to wait a bit before going away. Aelin was going to take officially over at the academy after the honeymoon. Until that point she did a lot of training with chief O’ Neill and had spent her days learning the ropes of her new job. She was excited. Stepping down as captain had been hard, her team had organised her a big shindig on her last day and at the same time she had appointed Manon as her successor. Asterin was going for the lieutenant exam so that she could then take over on truck. Luca had officially transferred to hazmat and they were now looking for a new candidate.

“Liar. You hate commercial pilots.”

He kissed her neck “Come on fireheart, stop stalling.”

He grabbed all the bags and started walking towards the door. They were still getting used to their new house. Actually, they were still getting used to being married. Aelin still had a flutter in her stomach whenever she referred to him as her husband. It still felt so unreal. They were married and they were going to have a baby too. A deep grin broke on her face.

“Wait for me, buzzard, you cannot leave without your trusted navigator.”

His laughter echoed from outside. She grabbed her small backpack and locked the door behind her and joined him.

“Go in the car, I am done here.”

She took a seat and adjusted the special seat belt adapter that he had bought for her. Apparently he had done extensive research and had found the safest way for her to wear a belt without risking hurting the baby. 

“Here I am, the bag with the snacks is behind you,” he placed the two water bottles in the cup holders in the middle “and plenty of water.”

Aelin leaned towards him and kissed Rowan on his lips “what type of music do you want?”

“Rock?”

Aelin connected her phone to the car’s bluetooth and started the music while Rowan fiddled with the sat nav.

“Let’s go, fireheart.”

*

They arrived at the ferry terminal in Rifthold three hours later. They had stopped a few times to allow Aelin to stretch her legs and have small food breaks. The ferry terminal for Varese was in the south of the city and it was massive. It had a lot of destinations. Rowan followed the signs for the ferry to Varese and queued with all the other cars. They had arrived early and they could now relax.

“Have you updated your uncle?”

“Yes, they are expecting us. Our cottage is ready and told me that they will keep the family at bay for a couple of days so we can adjusted first.”

Aelin patted his leg “I want to meet your grandma. They stew lady.”

Rowan laughed “Grandma Ciara will love to cook for you.”

She turned to him and kissed his jaw “thank you for doing this.”

He chuckled “I love the idea of showing off my wife.”

Twenty minutes later the cars in front of them started to move and they knew they had finally started loading the vehicles.

Aelin was excited.

“See? The ferry is far more fun than the plane.”

“The jury is still out.”

Car deck crew directed them to where to park and Rowan followed the instructions. Once settled, he got ready “just grab the small backpack.”

Aelin got out and he grabbed his hand.

Once on board, Aelin dragged him on the outer deck. It was July and it was a beautiful summer day. Her hoodie was tied around her waist, she had her TFD baseball cap and sunglasses. They walked stern of the ship and Rowan was fascinated by the loading operations. Aelin, leaned against the rail at his side, her head gently against his shoulder. As on instinct Rowan’s arm went behind her back and pulled her closer.

“Is the weather going to be nice in Doranelle?”

Rowan nodded “yes, uncle says they are having a great summer. They are very much inland but he has prepared the swimming pool.”

She looked at him and smiled brightly “can we have some lazy days in the pool?”

He kissed her head “of course, we are not going to explore everyday.”

She squealed “I have a new bikini.”

“Fireheart, we are guests, do not scandalise my family.”

She buried her face in her husband’s chest “I am five months pregnant, I am getting fat and horrible, I can’t afford anymore tiny bikinis.”

Rowan groaned. No matter how much he kept repeating her that he still found her attractive and no matter how much he showed her at night, she still did not believe him.

“You are gorgeous.”

She scoffed loudly.

His hand landed on her bump and caressed it gently “I love all of this. You are carrying our child. You are stunning. Our girl agrees.”

They had discovered the previous week that they were going to have a girl. Rowan had been over the moon and Elide had told her he had showed up at the firehouse with the picture of her scan and attached it to the fridge with pride. 

The safety announcement over the tannoy broke the silence and they watched the stern ramp closing and felt the engines becoming alive.

Soon the ropes were removed and the boat pushed away from the pier.

Rowan pushed Aelin to one of the chairs and they both sat down enjoying the sun and watching the city slowly disappear.

“As soon as we loose sight of Rifthold, there is nothing but sea for a few hours, we might want to go inside, it will get cold.” In response she snuggled against him.

It was six hours later when they finally docked. Back in the car they disembarked and Rowan set the sat nav for the hotel in Varese. It was evening already and were both starving.

They still had a couple of hours before sunset.

Rowan skilfully drove away from the harbour area and as they got closer to the city Aelin was speechless. Varese was not like she had imagined it. She could see skyscrapers and it looked much bigger that Rifthold and made Orynth look like a puny place. 

“Varese is the capital and it’s probably the richest part in the continent. It has a huge financial district and an extensive city centre. We will have a proper tour one day.”

“Did Ends work here?”

Rowan shook his head “No, but Micheal did. Enda told me that Micheal worked for three years with a super famous company and that for all that time he lived in a luxurious flat in the city centre and had a salary that was huge. All expenses paid and work trips in first class and all those perks.”

“Why did he leave?”

“Such jobs have a downside. Enda told me that he started to be unwell, suffered from ulcers and so many more stress related issues. So he resigned and moved back to Doranelle and got another high paying job but not as high end.”

“And now they have a restaurant, far more relaxing.”

Rowan chuckled “Neither of them have any regrets. Micheal said that investing all the money he saved from his fancy job, in a restaurant, was the best decision he ever took.”

The restaurant had become a success in a very short time. Most nights it was fully booked and Aelin and Rowan or any of the firefighters could get a spot just because they knew the owners.

Very recently a famous food magazine had placed them in the spotlight even more after a renowned chef reviewed their food.

“They have done such a good job.”

Rowan brushed her hair “We have arrived.”

Aelin looked outside and gasped at the tall building in front of them “Fancy.”

They checked in for the night and Aelin was heading for the stairs but Rowan grabbed her wrist “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Buzzard, baby girl and I are not going in the trap.”

He sighed “Aelin, you are pregnant.”

“Exercise is good.”

Rowan shook his head in resignation “Fine, I will see you in an hour.”

Aelin scoffed “We are on the seventh floor. More likely less than five minutes.”

“Not going to happen.”

She glared at him “I can do seven floors with 30kg of equipment in a run. A baby bump will not stop me.”

“I will have the oxygen ready.”

She stuck out her tongue and started walking to the stairs, with her backpack on to prove a point.

Rowan took the lift with all of their luggage and chuckled at how stubborn she was. Had they ended up at the topmost floor she would have climbed to it.

The lift was slow and picked up a few people along the way. He had a look at his watch and wondered where Aelin was. Probably panting halfway through and cursing her stupidity.

The lift pinged at he finally reached his floor. The doors opened and he froze. Aelin was leaning against the wall with a smug face.

“How?” he asked as he egressed the lift with the bags.

She walked to him and gave him a kiss “Training,” her hand brushed his long hair “many years of training, although I doubt I will be able to pull it off once I am much bigger. I was a bit slower than usual.”

A few hours later after a shower, they were getting ready to hit the town for dinner. They had decided to leave the car and use public transport. The hotel was near a subway station. Rowan was familiar with Varese and was the one in charge. He was taking her to his favourite restaurant from the southern continent. According to him this was an institution and had been there for a long time, passed down the generations in the family.

The place was a good six stops away and she loved they had been lazy and took the subway. She had been amazed that it had nine lines. Orynth had three and Rifthold five.

Once they re-emerged Aelin looked around her. They skyscrapers were gone but they still had a lot of modern building around them. They turned a corner and she spotted a firehouse. On instinct she pulled Rowan towards it. It had four rolling doors and Aelin rose on her toes to look inside and see how many vehicles they had.

“I thought you were hungry.”

She told him to shush while she stared. A moment later a woman came out “Hi, can I help you?”

“Hi,” she walked to the woman “I am a fellow firefighter from Terrasen and I was just admiring your firehouse.”

The woman laughed “come in, have a look.”

Aelin grabbed Rowan’s hand and followed.

They stepped inside and Aelin gasped in amazement. The firehouse was huge, it had four vehicles and an ambulance. She was so jealous.

“I am captain Isobel McKenzie.”

“Captain Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius.” She then paused “Sorry, I mean chief. I am an instructor now,” and she patted her belly “My husband here is a paramedic at east station.”

They all shook hands and the captain showed the vehicles and Aelin was fascinated by the truck for the rescue squad.

“Every company has a rescue squad.”

Aelin was really envious now. In Terrasen for now they only had them in the regional areas but Dorian was working with the commissioner to get them one.

Rowan let the two ladies chat and he walked to the paramedics and introduced himself.

It was a good hour later when he managed to drag his wife out of the firehouse and towards the restaurant.

“Twenty seven houses, Ro. That’s awesome.“

He squeezed her hand “Varese is much bigger than Orynth. That many would be an overkill.”

“Ten, I am not asking much.”

The restaurant was not far away from there and once they arrived Aelin realised a pit had opened in her stomach and was ready to polish off the menu.

And that she did and Rowan joked that he had to apply for a mortgage.

“Rowan, this was amazing.”

He nodded happily “this place is incredible.”

“But now we are walking, I ate so much that now I look seven months pregnant.”

He kissed her head “We can start, but if you get tired we take the metro.”

In the end Aelin begged him to take public transport and rode the last four stations back to the accommodation and she also took the lift and Rowan celebrated internally.

*

The following morning they had a massive breakfast at the hotel and set off for Doranelle. They had a good five hours journey ahead of them. Aelin had her face attached to the window and was staring at the landscape passing by. Rowan explained to her that they were bypassing Doranelle altogether and were taking a more direct route to his uncle’s place. She saw the city in the distance and her mind went back to when she visited him. When they broke every rule.

Her hand landed on his thigh “I was thinking about when I came to visit.”

He chuckled “Feels like a lifetime ago…”

“A different life… different us.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed it and placed it back on his thigh.

The more they drove away the more civilisation got scarcer. They were surrounded by farmland and forests.

She then looked at the sat nav and saw an ETA of three minutes and excitement started to rise.

“See that in the distance? That’s uncle Ellys’ farm.”

The closer they got, the bigger it was becoming.

Rowan drove along the driveway and a couple was outside waiting for them.

He got out of the car and she followed. The man, his uncle, had hair as silver as Rowan’s and the eyes of a deeper green. The woman at his side had grey hair and deep brown eyes.

“Rowan, darling,” his aunt ran to him and Rowan and she giggled. They really were huggers and he was the odd one. He exchanged a manly pat with his uncle then he turned and grabbed her hand “May I introduce you my wife? Aelin these are my uncle Ellys and his wife Morwenna. They are Enda’s parents,” he explained “His brother was my dad and his sister is Sellene’s mum.”

Aelin extended her hand but she was enveloped in a hug by the family.

“Welcome you both, come in you must be exhausted. I have lunch cooking.”

Aelin followed the woman happily while Rowan and his uncle took care of the bags. Ellys had given them one of the cottages he rented to holidaymakers. They had tried to complain but he had been adamant that they needed privacy.

The house was beautiful and very tasteful. All around the living room there were photos and Aelin started pacing until she stopped at one in particular.

“That is Rowan, Enda, Sellene and Rowan’s dad at one of their camping trips. Rowan and Enda were fifteen, Sellene was seventeen.”

She stared at the image. He had a huge grin while he lifted proudly a fish on a spike. His eyes bright and alive.

“That was their last camping trip. Rowan and his family moved away the following winter.”

“He was a cute teenager.”

“They all were.”

Morwenna took her around a few more photos and Aelin almost burs out of cuteness when she saw a picture of a five year old Rowan and Enda “He is adorable, I know I am hormonal and all but he is so damn cute.”

“Who’s cute?” Her husband decided to arrive in the house in that instant. Aelin grabbed the photo and shoved it in his face “You. You are such a cutie patootie.”

Ellys burst out in a boisterous laugh and Rowan’s ears turned red.

Then on another wall she spotted a photo with a lot of people and the majority had silver hair.

“That was the last clan reunion,” explained Ellys “Yes, the Whitethorn is a big clan.”

“You really all have silver hair or almost.”

Morwenna giggled “It’s a family trait apparently. We found photos of very old ancestors and they had silver hair. The green eyes are not that prominent but a lot of us do.”

They finally took a seat on the large sofa and Morwenna brought iced tea and a few appetisers. Aelin was ravenous. The effects of the big breakfast were disappearing.

“Here, lunch will be ready soon but this will keep hunger away for a bit,” the woman winked at her “I also made chocolate cake for dessert.”

“Rowan, I love your aunt already.”

“It doesn’t take much. Promise her food and sweets and she is yours.”

Aelin lightly punched Rowan and he yelped in protest.

“So, Rowan how is being a paramedic going?”

Rowan had discovered that both Enda and Sellene had kept uncle Ellys informed about what was happening.

“I love it.”

Aelin leaned towards him and kissed his cheek “he is really good too. He finished top of his class and also was kept at my house as a reward. I am so proud of him.”

Morwenna smiled fondly at her nephew “your parents would be proud too.”

Rowan squeezed her hand and in that instant uncle Ellys cleared his voice “have you planned what to do while you are here?”

“I want to explore as much as I can. I want to go back to Doranelle and I need to see Mistward and of course I need to see all Rowan’s stomping grounds.” She grinned deeply.

Aelin stomach grumbled quite loudly and the group laughed and aunt Morwenna stood “I think it’s lunch time.”

*

“Damn buzzard, do all the Whitethorn cook that way? Because your aunt’s meal was incredible.”

After the meal they had gone to their cottage and while Rowan was unpacking, Aelin was sprawled on the bed in a t-shirt and shorts and her hand was caressing her bump “we are so full.”

Rowan chuckled “It’s a family thing. Wait for grandma…”

She sat up “I want the stew even if it’s in the middle of summer.”

He walked to his wife and kissed her neck and Aelin hummed and in that instant she felt something flutter in her belly and froze “Ro?”

At the panic in her voice he dropped the clothes and sat at her side “what is it?”

Aelin moved her hand once more and then squealed in delight and grabbed his, placing in a precise spot “she is kicking.”

Rowan waited and his expression morphed in one of pure joy as soon as he felt a kick from their daughter.

“She is here, she is really here.” He sat down and pulled Aelin to him, while his hand never left the bump “Thank you fireheart for all this.”

She looked into his green eyes and caressed the face of the man who held her heart. Even after three months Aelin sometimes was still incredulous at the idea that they were finally married. They had been through so much that it felt at times that happiness was not in their futures, but now, looking into her husband’s eyes she realised that they just needed patience “I love you, Rowan,” a gentle kiss on his lips while her hand joined his on her belly “and I am so looking forward to meet our daughter.”

“Motherhood is making you cheesy.”

In response she gently punched his arms and Rowan fell on the bed and pretended to be in pain “You violent woman…”

Aelin then kissed him and straddled him “can I make it up to you?”

A deep laugh escaped Rowan’s lips and he pillowed his hands behind his head “I am all yours.”

*

The following morning aunt Morwenna welcomed them with a gigantic breakfast and had packed food too for their excursion.

“Ro, three weeks at this rate and I will have a food baby too.”

He grinned at her “I told my aunt you eat a lot.”

It was their first day of exploring and Rowan had decided to start easy and a bit later to allow Aelin to relax a bit. 

He dumped the backpack in the car and the food bag too and made sure Aelin was properly settled.

“Do you have everything? Last chance for a quick bathroom break.”

“I think my bladder is behaving at the moment.”

“Good,” a quick kiss and he went to the driver’s side. They had decided to start with Mistward fortress on that day.

The road towards the fortress had started with lowlands until peaks had started to appear in the distance “those are the Cambrian mountains, Enda and I loved hiking there and dad would take us there for our camping trips.”

Aelin grabbed her guide book and started reading more info on the area “is there a long climb to Mistward?”

Rowan shook his head “no, less than a kilometre. They had to place the car park south of it because it was the only location and you will see why.”

Aelin squealed excited and went back staring at the landscape around her.

It took them a good forty minutes to reach the base and start the climb with the car. At the car park she looked up and gasped in amazement. The fortress was perched on the rugged edges of the ridge of the mountains and spread along it in a structure that seemed almost too fragile.

Rowan got out and took her hand “we are climbing slowly. They have steps.”

Aelin grinned “I am a pro at steps.”

Turned out that pregnant Aelin was not as good as she thought and they had to stop a few times. She complained but Rowan just waited at her side and passed her water without saying anything.

Once at the top, Aelin sat on a bench and cursed mountains and steep staircases.

The fortress lay in front of them and she stared at it in amazement.

“It’s a stunning place.”

Her husband grinned “wait to get to the lookout point to be truly amazed.”

Aelin grinned and she patted his leg “I am rested, let’s explore.”  

They walked around the grounds and Rowan stopped in a room “There are legends connected to Mistward and Doranelle in general,” his arms went around her waist landing on her bump “It is told that Doranelle was the land of the immortal fae,” he started and Aelin sank back in his chest “The castle in Doranelle was the residence of the fae queen and Mistward was were all the demi-fae would end,” he explained, remembering all of the stories his father had told him “They would have to prove themselves to be admitted into Doranelle.”

“That’s mean.”

“She was a cruel queen and hated all the non purebloods.”

She turned in his arms “are all these stories in books?”

Rowan nodded “in Doranelle we can go book shopping and buy you a book with all the legends from Wendlyn.”

“You are the man of my dreams,” Aelin grabbed Rowan’s hand “Let’s keep exploring…”

He finally took her to the outpost and Aelin gasped at the amazing view. They could see all around them and as far as the Great Ocean. The sight was breathtaking.

Rowan pulled his wife to his chest and his jaw landed on her head “over there there is home, you can’t see it but Terrasen is in that direction,” then he turned their bodies and they stared at the Cambrian Mountains, some of the highest peaks still had some snow “they are almost just as stunning as the Staghorns.”

Rowan chuckled “I love them but nothing beats Oakwald and the Staghorns, they are too majestic.”

“That’s why I said almost.” After their exploring Rowan took her to the gift shop where Aelin ended up buying a book about the actual history of Mistward, then one about all the legends of Wendlyn and one about the fae and the immortal lands.

“You bought the entire shop?”

“They had interesting titles.”

Slowly they made their descent back to the car park and once back down Rowan took her exploring some of the surrounding areas until he noticed Aelin getting tired and he took them both home “You can finish the day in the pool.”

“Whitethorn, that is an amazing idea.”

*

The following morning they started a bit earlier. The day before they had spent the rest of the day at the pool and in the end his uncle and aunt had suggested a barbecue and the four of them ended up having a great meal near the water. Now they were back in the car and Rowan had decided to spend the day in Doranelle and Aelin was excited at going down the memory lane.

“I want to go inside the castle this time and join a guided tour. The first time I was too busy trying to spend all the time I could with you. This time is different and I want to do all the touristy things.”

Rowan grinned “as my lady commands.”

Rowan left the car at a park and ride just outside and then they took the subway all the way into the centre of Doranelle. As they exited Aelin spotted the castle standing tall in front of her, with all the rivers behind it. The place was just as stunning as she remembered it. Aelin walked to the ledge and stared at the rivers joining behind the castle and her hand brushed her belly “Dad and I started our journey here in Doranelle,” 

Rowan’s arms sneaked around her frame and joined hers on the bump “your mum bought a dress that made your dad melt.”

“Shhh… she doesn’t need to know that, we are just sharing interesting moments.”

Rowan kissed her head “This is where I think I started falling hard for your mum.”

Aelin hummed and leaned against his hard chest and closed her eyes, letting his scent envelop her.

They both remained in silence until Aelin pushed away and grabbed his hand “come on buzzard, your wife and daughter want to play tourist.” He grinned and took her hand. He was still getting used to their status but he loved how the word wife sounded on his lips. They had done it. Somedays he still had to shake his head incredulous.

“Using our daughter it’s very unfair.”

She walked to him and grabbed both his hands “because I know that you’d do anything for your favourite women.”

That was true. They were his everything.

Aelin had loved the tour and had been fascinated by the history of the country. She also had fun glaring at a few women eating Rowan with their eyes and making comments that had now been appropriate. Rowan had managed to rein her in and avoid bloodshed.

After the tour he had taken his wife for lunch on one of the river cruises. He chuckled as they queued and Aelin started scanning the boat to make sure it looked safe. He was now used to her firefighter mode kicking in at the most unexpected moment. 

“I hope the boat is safe and properly maintained.”

Rowan groaned and apologised to the other people. It was Orynth tower all over again.

Turned out the boat had been safe and they had an amazing small cruise with a superb lunch. Rowan’s phone was filling up quickly with Aelin’s pictures and some with him too. He was going to plaster his locker door at work with their pictures.

It was only later on in the afternoon when his super energetic wife had started complaining about behind tired. He bought her ice cream but eventually he dragged her home with the promise of massages. Aelin had caved very quickly.

The following day Aelin was relaxing by the pool, suntanning and enjoying the peace of the countryside. Rowan had gone out with his uncle on some mysterious errand. She had spotted the two men busy in hushed conversations a few times and was now curious to know what they were planning.

She was engrossed in her book when Morwenna joined her on the long chair at her side, a glass of iced tea in her hands too.

“Mind if I join you?”

“No, please.”

The woman relaxed in the chair, releasing a deep breath “that’s all the morning chores of the farm done.”

“Is the farm busy?”

She nodded “all our cottages have a constant turnaround. It’s rare they lie empty.”

“Now I feel bad that Rowan and I used one.”

Morwenna patted her arm “don’t even think about it. I haven’t seen Rowan in a very long time. When he called us I could not believe it. Ellys and I have been counting down the days to thsi visit.”

Aelin sighed, after the wedding they had discussed honeymoon ideas and she had pushed for Wendlyn, she wanted to meet his family. He had caved, admitting that he wanted to resume contacts once more.

“I know about Lyria, about his past. Sellene told me, but promised not to tell him. It broke my heart when she told me.”

Aelin looked at the woman in surprise.

“We are a big family, we look after each other and Sellene was very heartbroken when she came back from Orynth and told us of his situation. I think she was looking for a way to help him.”

Aelin’s hand went on her bump where she could feel her daughter move lightly “he was…” a deep sigh “when I met him, he was in a very dark place. The woman was ready to divorce him and pregnant with another’s man child. She lied to him,” anger rose in her “and he kept blaming himself. Those two women destroyed him. It took me a while to convince him he was worthy of being loved.”

“I have never heard Sellene being that mad at someone.”

Aelin chuckled, Sellene had been such an amazing support.

“Thank you for looking after him and making him happy.”

Her thumb brushed absentmindedly her wedding band “we helped each other. He is caring and sweet and I can’t wait to see him being a dad.”

Morwenna chuckled “I bet he will be like his dad. Involved in every aspect of the child’s life. It pained Alistair greatly when he had to deploy,” she looked at Aelin “he reminds me so much of his father.”

The two women remained in silence for a while, pondering of those words.

“Are you ready for the big gathering tomorrow?” Morwenna was the first one to break the silence. 

“I am absolutely excited at the idea of being surrounded by the whole clan.”

Morwenna laughed happily “Nana Ciara is already preparing the stew and apparently a massive feast. She had learned that Rowan married a woman with an appetite and she is delighted.”

“Apparently she is a legend. Sellene, Enda and Rowan filled me up on her.” “My husband might be the head of the clan, but she is the heart.”

The baby kicked hard and Aelin laughed “my daughter is excited too apparently.”

The two women spent the afternoon outside and Aelin indulged in a swim too.

It was later on in the evening when the two men came back to the estate and Rowan joined Aelin. Morwenna went back inside and Aelin was alone soaking in the pool.

“Fancy some company?” Rowan towered from the edge of the pool and at her nod he  pulled off his t-shirt, remaining in his swimming trunks. He had probably changed before joining her.

“Come here, your daughter loves to be a little fish.”

Rowan swam to her and stopped between her legs and his hands landed on her bump “you like, swimming?”

He felt a kick and leaned forward to kiss his wife.

“Where did you and your uncle do?”

Rowan chuckled and sat at her side, pulling her closer. He had spoken to his uncle and told him of his plan and Ellys had helped him right away. “We went to see a cottage.”

She turned her head with curiosity.

“What about us buying a house here in Wendlyn? Like a holiday place.”

Aelin squealed in delight “Really? I’d love to.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Uncle helped me. There is one place not too far from here. I can take you see it.”

“Please.”

They soaked in the pool until dinner time and Rowan told her all about the cottage in the countryside.

*

When the day of the clam meeting arrived, Aelin was excited and woke up early too. She was giddy and apparently her daughter felt her happiness too and had been a little hellion. Rowan made her a very light breakfast claiming that lunch was probably going to be quite substantial but Aelin ignored him complaining that he could not let his daughter and fat wife starve. Rowan replied with a resigned sigh and a gentle roll of his eyes.

Slowly the clan had started to trickle in later on in the morning. Aelin and Rowan were at the centre of attention and wether he was eager to keep to the sidelines, Aelin transformed in asocial utterly and made friend with all of his relatives. Within an hour she had collected their phone numbers and exchanged social media profiles. He shook his head. He was amazed at her easiness at social interactions, a skill he envied her a lot on some occasions. 

“Looks like Aelin is already one of us,” uncle Ellys voice reached him as he stepped closer “Nana already loves her.”

Rowan stared at his wife and chuckled as he noticed her and nana Ciara involved in a deep discussion, probably about food.

“It will be nice to have you and your family here from time to time.”

Rowan smiled at his uncle “Yeah, I want our daughter to learn half of her roots and it’s very important for Aelin too.” “Come on, I can see nana calling everyone to battle station. I hope you skipped breakfast.”

The two men joined the big table that had been prepared outside in the garden. Rowan joined Aelin and together they walked to the main table with nana Ciara, and uncle Ellys and his wife.

Before the meal started Ellys rose for a speech “It gives me great pleasure to have the clan gathered on such a joyous day. We Whitethorns are a big family but it’s always a great moment when we can add one person to this clan,” he indicated Aelin “You are officially one of us now, and so is your daughter. Welcome.”

Aelin nodded and sniffled then stood slowly, a hand on her swollen belly “My daughter and I are very happy to be part of this. I have lost my family a long time ago and I am left with a cousin whom I love like a brother. But being part of this makes me very happy,” she turned to her husband “And I hope to have in the future many more of these gathering as Rowan and I have decided to buy a place here too for holidays.”

Rowan stood at her side with a grin “Aelin and I are in the process of acquiring a cottage not far from here. I have been far away far too long, but no more. I want my daughter to know the rest of her family.” His arm sneaked behind her back and pulled his wife closer.

All the participants cheered and nana Ciara walked to Rowan and Aelin and hugged them both “now let your wife sit down and let me feed her.”

Aelin burst out in a loud laugh and took her seat once more and the old woman arrived a moment later with a gigantic dish full of her stew.

The woman’s green eyes landed on her in expectation and Aelin took a first spoonful of food.

What she was nor expecting was the explosion of flavours in her mouth. Her eyes closer to savour it and images of woods, nature and snow hit her. The stew brought back memorise of summer adventures with Aedion in the Staghorns, the feeling of home. Enda had done a grand job on his version but this, the original, was completely different experience.

“This is the most amazing stew I have ever tasted in my life.”

The old woman nodded in approval and then every one started grabbing a helping.

Rowan kissed Aelin’s head “Told you.”

The meal had gone on for hours and Aelin realised she had missed that tradition. Family really was important for the Whitethorns and she loved it. 

She was walking around the garden to shake off some of the food when she spotted Rowan walking towards her with nana Ciara in tow.

“Nana has something she wants to say to both of us…”

The woman smiled deeply and took Aelin’s hands “You are having a girl, isn’t it?”

Aelin nodded and brushed a hand on her bump.

“And have you two settled on a name?”

Rowan looked at his wife “Nothing that we like, we have read a lot of options…”

Nana smiled then her hand went on Aelin’s bump and in that instant the baby kicked hard “There is a name which is local to here in some of the more remote communities, that I think it will be perfect for your little girl,” the woman paused and stared at both of them “It’s Maya. In the language of one of the tribes deep in the Cambrian mountain it means courage, bravery.” With that she left and Aelin looked at Rowan “It’s perfect.”

He pulled his wife close to his chest and kissed her head “It really is…”

*

The honeymoon had passed in a breeze, far too quick for Aelin’s taste and now they were in front of the farm where uncle Ellys was helping Rowan to load the car. They had explored all they could, Rowan had taken her to some of stomping grounds in teh woods and he went down the memory lane with her.

Now, three weeks later they it was time to say farewell and Aelin stared at all the boxes and extra bags.The family had inundated them with gifts for the wedding and the baby and Rowan had stocked up in foods and spices from home that he struggled to find in Terrasen. Those three weeks had been perfect and she was happy at the idea that they will soon have a cottage all for themselves to get back to. Uncle Ellys had promised Rowan to keep him updated on the works. They were giddy and excited  for this new adventure in their lives.

It was a few hours later when they were back on the ferry. The boat had pushed away from the pier and Rowan and Aelin were standing on the stern outer deck and watched Wendlyn slowly gliding away. Rowan moved behind his wife and his hand reached at the front, including Maya in the embrace “thank you for making me do this.”

“I love your family, Ro.”

His face disappeared in the crook of her neck and in that instant their daughter kicked hard, probably to make her opinion heard.

Rowan looked at the sea ahead. Looked towards home and to a life that he had searched for, for a long time. He chuckled, he would have set fire the hangar himself if he had known it would have brought him his dreams and the woman in his arms.

The love of his life.

*

On a wall of their home, now hang now a picture of  the clan Whitethorn with a smiling Aelin in the middle beside nana Ciara and uncle Ellys.       

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck​ @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee

[anjali1412skyvik]

Which Recent Trends in Smartphone Accessory Are Interesting to Look Into?

In today's digital age, smartphones have become indispensable tools for communication, productivity, and entertainment. With each passing year, advancements in technology continue to push the boundaries of what our smartphones can do. However, it's not just the devices themselves that are evolving; the accessories market is also experiencing rapid innovation. From cutting-edge chargers to innovative camera lenses, there's a wealth of exciting advancements to explore in smartphone accessories.

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Gaming Accessories: The rise of mobile gaming has led to a surge in demand for gaming accessories designed specifically for smartphones. From ergonomic controllers to cooling fans and trigger buttons, these accessories aim to enhance the gaming experience and provide competitive advantages to gamers. With advancements in connectivity and compatibility, smartphone gaming accessories are becoming increasingly popular among casual and hardcore gamers alike.

In conclusion, the world of smartphone accessories is constantly evolving, with new advancements and innovations emerging regularly. Whether you're looking to enhance the functionality of your device, protect it from damage, or optimize your user experience, there's a wide range of accessories to explore. By staying informed about the latest trends and advancements in smartphone accessories, you can make informed choices that enhance your smartphone usage and keep you connected, productive, and entertained on the go.

[magiktony]

Innovative Car Phone Holder This innovative device keeps your phone at eye level, directly in your line of sight, allowing you to view navigation and notifications safely. This strategic placement significantly reduces distractions and enhances your driving safety. Get yours now:

[atplblog]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] 【One Click Technology】 Sounce universal car mobile holder features a one-click technology which allows for easy installation and removal of your device with just one hand. This is particularly helpful for drivers who need to keep their attention on the road while using their mobile devices. 【360°FULLY-ROTATIONAL BODY】 Mobile holder with a 360° rational body so that you can watch from your preferred angle after fixing the sounce car mobile holder to the dashboard or windshield. Find the viewing angle that does not hamper you’re driving or GPS navigation. Further, the arm of can be extended to an angle of 180° so that you can adjust it just like you want. 【Versatile Mounting Options】 The holder can be mounted on either your car's windshield or dashboard, giving you greater flexibility in terms of where you can position your device. This means you can choose the most comfortable and convenient location for your device while driving. 【ABS BODY】 It makes for a premium cradle for your smartphone for a scratch-free and shock-free affair. The Abs body provides a firm grip that is just perfect in that it protects your smartphone from grip marks. 【COMPATIBILITY 】The sounce car mobile holder can easily accommodate smartphones with screen sizes of 4 inches to 7 inches. It is also designed intelligently to connect cables from the space below the charging port. Now you can charge the phone and look at notifications better. [ad_2]

[techtokae]

Mount Up & Power Up: The Magnetic Wireless Charger Car Phone Holder You Need

Gone are the days of fumbling with tangled wires and struggling to find the perfect phone mount in your car. The Magnetic Wireless Charger Car Phone Holder is here to revolutionize your in-car experience, offering a seamless blend of convenience, security, and rapid charging.

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