#go fix a plate of fandom “steak”

[snackugaki]

idk life being life and art block being art block but

damn, some of y'all either got no fucking manners, can't mind your business, can't keep your shitbird mouths shut when there's nothing nice in there to start, bumming out people I know because clinical foolishness is going around

here's a wip I guess; tmnt (general) fans I fuck with you and sorry ig for not bullying some turtles for the giggles

tmnt (rise) fans... guys are on some thin motherfucking ice, fix your posture if you can't fix your fucking attitudes

[eziro10]

Jason Todd: Taking you on a Date

Jason todd x G/N reader

A/N Thank you all for the recent support! It means so much to me and I'm so grateful for them all! Terribly sorry for such a late upload, I'll try putting out something sooner. Also thank you for all the recent followers. I love you all <3. But if you like the story please consider following if you want to know when I post next.  Message me if you have any scenarios that you would like me to write for Jason. Im also considering writing for other fandoms that I like, not sure when that is going to happen though. I hope you all have a good day and happy pride <3

Summary: Jason is taking you on a date, and what goes on throughout the day.

______________________

The two of you woke up that morning in a great mood. Jason was in a giddy aura all morning. He was the first to get up, he woke you up by kissing your face all over. You were delighted by the action of waking up and being kissed. So you started to reciprocate the action. After exchanging kisses Jason hopped out of bed and dragged you to the shower with him. Helping you get clean quickly, he promised you that this would be an amazing day. You were delighted to see him this enthusiastic, you never see him in a state like this often. So when they come around you enjoy them to their extent. The showerhead turns on and hits the two of you. His wet hair framed his face, you couldn't help but admire him a little bit. (I just hope he didn't notice you staring anywhere else.)

The two of you got out of the shower and started to get ready for the day. The time was 10 am and Jason was speeding throughout the apartment. Getting dressed quickly and preparing some breakfast for the two of you. Just some simple eggs and a leftover steak from the night before. He prepared them on plates and handed them over the kitchen counter. You thanked him for the food and quickly got to work chowing down.

Due to Jason’s iron stomach, he was able to down the food quickly. He cleaned his plate and started to tell you to hustle and be prepared to leave in 10 minutes. You were trying to finish the plate and hurry to catch up with Jason. In the meantime, Jason was putting on some cologne and fixing his hair. Jay took his time perfecting his appearance, he wanted to look his best for you, he wanted to make you proud. Spritzing some Polo Ralph Lauren along his body and psyching himself up in the mirror, he was ready for the day. He went back to you and nodded to the door, you were in suit and followed Jason out the door with all your essentials.

There was no definite reason why Jason had this burst of energy. The two of you discussed how you haven't done anything together for a while. Jason wanted that to change, dedicating all of his time to the person he cares most for. He wanted to spoil you in his love the best way he knows how to communicate it. So taking you places and spending quality time together was the plan. Jason just also wants to make sure you don't get tired of him. You’ve repeated to him how you value his company, how he is the one for you. But his insecurities get the better of him at times.

Jason was never shy about displaying you to everyone he knows. He isn't the biggest on PDA but isn't afraid to give you hugs or kisses when the mood calls for them. So Jason casually grips your hand and pulls you behind him when you two cut through the busy waves of people in the morning heading to work. People go to their office jobs and have their own lives. People that you only ever see once, going on their usual commute. Jay leads you to a nearby bookstore first. He needed some more material to read, and Jay also wanted to show you some of his favorites.

The iconic chime reverberating through the store was met by your arrival inside. Friendly workers welcome you inside. Jason slowed his pace and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Pulling you closer he wanted to browse the shelves with you. He automatically made his way to the realistic fiction section. Wanting to see any of the latest releases along with his favorite authors. At this time he did lose his hand on your shoulder. You were also browsing with him until you spot “Pride and Prejudice”

“Hey, Jay” He nonchalantly turned to you. “Isn't this your favorite book?”

His green eyes followed your hands to the book. A smile on his face, you found Jay by your side already. His hand resting on the back of the book along with yours. “Yeah, this is my favorite.” stated with a soothing tone. “ I love this one, didnt you tell me you wanted to check it out y/n?” A simple noise beaming from your throat. “Well I’ll let you borrow mine, I believe I left my copy at the Manor. We’ll have to stop by sometime soon, I bet they all miss you over there as well.”

Returning the book back to its previous location you resumed browsing, and Jason picked up on his own personal search. Separating on your own journeys for some literature, and reconnecting after some time. You returned with a single book, Jay returned with an arms full. Jay loves to read, something he does quite frequently. So seeing him with more than 4 books is nothing new to you.

But when it came to checking out, he originally wanted to pay for the two of you. But Jay forgot his card and did not have enough cash to cover it all. Too much in a rush this morning to remember small details like his card. Checking his wallet twice to see if it was hidden, and looking at his bank account balance. He was about to start returning some of them back until you stepped in.

“It's ok Jay, I got this.” You casually inputted your card and paid for everything. All the books are put into two separate bags to equally distribute the weight. Handing one of them to Jay you headed outside with the sound of the bell following you two outside.

You look back to find Jay a bit quiet. “What's wrong Jaybird?” You slowed your pace to match his slow strides that matched a turtle.

“No, it's nothing, just a little embarrassing how I didn't have any change in my wallet, or in general. Actually, let me make a quick call.” Going to a nearby wall, pulling out his call he chose the first contact under B.

You didn't hear his full conversation but you can already deduct what it was all about anyway. None of it was comprehensible to you except the words. “Can you wire me some money… I know you got too much to know what to actually do with.” He hung up the phone and rejoined you. “Looks like the plan to hang out all day can continue without a hitch!” You couldn't help but roll your eyes

“You think being a hero would be a rewarding job financially, but I guess not.”

“Hey it's not my fault this city is stingy, but thanks to Bruce we won't have to worry about what happened back there ever again.” One hand holding a bag and the other reappearing on your shoulder. “Got any suggestions on where to go next My love? It's too early for lunch to happen already.” He tilted his head to the side looking directly at you. Thankfully you two were at a standstill on the sidewalk. He would have bumped into something if that wasn't the case.

“Why don't we go back to the apartment, drop off the books and pick up your card. After that…” Your phone goes off, you check the name on the caller ID. It was Damien calling. “One moment Jay, it's Damien calling.” Putting the phone on speaker the two of you heard Damien's voice on the other end. He was inviting you to hang out at an arcade nearby the manor. You looked at Jay skeptically, it was supposed you two were hanging out. You would love to spend some time with Damien but you were unsure if Jason wanted the same. Jay gave you the green light to accept his offer. “Alright, let's do it. What time are we meeting up?”

Working out the details over the phone while walking back home. When you brought up how Jason was going to be joining. Damien sounded disapproving of the idea, but you know how much the brothers enjoy hanging out with one another. It's just that none of them can admit it to themselves or others. Getting home and then heading out, you were meeting Damien over there in 20 minutes.

 Jay was happy to drive the pair of you there though. He loves flaunting his motorcycle to people on the street. He loves when you tug onto his stomach for safety, a relaxation period for him.

When arriving there safely (after being flipped off by multiple people on the street.) Your hand entwined with Jason and you two headed inside. Damien and Dick were in the lobby waiting for you. Some confusion fell on your face but that quickly disappeared--the more the merrier. Damien seemed slightly annoyed by the added appearance of Dick, but he needed a ride over here and he didn't hate Dick entirely though.

After getting some tokens to activate the machines. Jay and Dick quickly got to work on hitting the arcades, they were competitive amongst themselves. But Jay gave you a small peck before he was lost in the crowds of people with Dick quickly behind him. It was you and Damien left alone. Damien was happy that the two older brothers were gone. You suggested some games for you two to play, going over to basketball first.

You were successful in getting most of the hoops in, but Damien was matching you in your efforts. As the clock reaches zero you two were matching in points. At the last second both of you throw once more. The loud buzzing of the machine indicated the time reaching zero, and neither of you were successful in making it into the hoop in time. Damien had gone quiet, before the match he was bragging about his win. But proving him wrong left him speechless. Teasing him about the tie, you ruffled up his hair a bit, you two went on to win other games.

Time has passed, the two of you with handfuls of tickets now wrapping along your arms and Damiens. The two of you tried to meet back up with Jason and Dick. You find Jason and Dick playing “Dance Dance Revolution.” Sweat gleamed each other's foreheads.

From Jason's POV, he couldn't lose to Dick at this game. They tried their hand at other machines. Jay would win one game and Dick the other. Currently, they were even in points. Jay didn't know how Dick won the water shooter game, he was the better shot…Jay and Dick decided to take a shot at the last game they haven't played yet. This being their last ticket, it was all or nothing. Taking off his jacket when they went to the dance pad and leaving it on the rail behind him, he meant business.

They selected the song and began their battle. The vibrant rays of lighting illuminate their faces, making a shadow to the space behind them. Blue and pink light reflected off of the materials around them. This was when you and Damien came up from behind watching them duke it out. As the song progressed the intensity in the atmosphere rose. More and more people were watching them, gathering around the dance pad. You were rooting for Jay to win, no hard feelings to Dick. Jason heard your encouragement and felt confident. Feeling like this would be an easy breeze, but once he noticed all of his points added up; the numbers were saying otherwise.

Dick was ahead of Jason, about 2000 points ahead. To be fair, how was Jason meant to win against an acrobat? Jason seemed a bit bummed out about his defeat. He instinctively went to you and wrapped a hand around your waist. “You did amazing Jay, but if I'm being honest. You had your odds stacked against you.” Jay smiled at your comment but said nothing more. You all went to the counter to cash out your rewards.

Getting some things like candy, slinkies, and plush animals. You and Jason got all the candy you earned and gave the toys to some nearby children. The four of you left the arcade and went to some other places to kill some time. Going to a small cafe for lunch, and catching a movie in the afternoon. Before you knew it, the sun went past the horizon. Jay and you were about to wave goodbye to Damien and Dick. Before they left, Damien told you that you should hang out with him sometime soon. You agreed and waved them goodbye. They went off back to the mansion, and you and Jay went back to the apartment. Getting back on Jason's motorcycle, and grabbing his stomach once more you two were off.

Jay opened the apartment door, letting you lead inside. He Placed all of your prizes on the counter and forgot about it until the next morning. Jay got something quick for the two of you to eat. He prepared some easy ramen and threw them into the microwave. When he opened the microwave door, he saw pillars of steam escaping the paper-like lid of the styrofoam cups. Jay put them on the counter and asked you to sit by him.

“Did you have fun, today love?” He was a bit drowsy, and after that dance battle and everything you four did that day. His speech was quieter than usual and slowed.

“I did, and thank you for taking me out” you gave him a peck on his forehead and a loving hug. “I love you so much jay”

“I love you too y/n”

You two got everything ready for the night, finishing the ramen cups and getting into a change into some pajamas. You both had turned off the rest of the lights in our shared apartment and you went into the bedroom with Jason. You cuddled Jay in your arms and you two quickly went to sleep. Hopefully, he didn't take his earlier defeat into heart though, he did amazing. <3

[mauserfrau]

Mau's Very Silly Headcanon Post

Since I have two pieces of fiction going live this weekend and they’re both going to be late due to butting into each other XD.

I did another one here and there’s going to be some overlap, but less bodily function stuff in this one (mostly spit) (also some vague references to medical trauma).

A lot of this is small potatoes because I didn’t want to spoil anything.  How Phaseleech actually works ends up being a plot point in what I have pending, so I actually can’t just come out and say what’s going on.  That said, I’m sure there are people here who want to know what’s on my mind, but who don’t want to sit through 50K words with half a dozen squick warnings.

That said: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauser_Frau

Questions welcome, about this, anything else I think about Borderlands, what exactly is in Chapter 13 of Satellite, if it’s true the one flashback actually happened to Mom... 

Both

-Look, the only thing I did that’s appreciably off-canon is let them have emotions.  Maybe I drove into left field with what those emotions were, but that’s really all anybody’s got to do to fix this situation.  Go with the deity of your choice.  

-If I was headed for a Gearbox ending, it would be for the scrapped one, not the one we got.  See this and this other thing.

>>>I would still have written the twins as having something resembling a meaningful relationship regardless of whether that turned out romantic or not.  As things went and are, them as a couple was something I knew how to write and my mom shipped them (no, I’m not kidding).  

-I’m not going for a canon ending.  Mercy, did I find a thread I could snap and take the whole sweater out.  

-Both had blue siren markings when they were born; Troy’s turned red after they were separated.

--Which was a complicated mess-- they were upside-down verses each other and had several secondary adhesions, the most notable of which was Tyreen’s face to Troy’s thigh.

---Leda never 100% recovered from the emotional or physical trauma, but she put on a brave face for the last sevenish years of her life.  

---Troy’s tissue loss was severe and left him with a notable pit in his upper right side.

---Tyreen also has heavy scarring running from her right armpit to her right hip.  It’s not as complex, but it is very visible.  Missing a fair amount of intestine compared to the average human, but this has apparently never bothered her beyond the fact that visiting the toilet when you don’t eat is not fun.

-Semi-identical twins. Have 82.5% of their genes in common.  LSS, neither one is a parasite.  They’re two sperm plus one egg and they didn’t divide right.

--Ms. Phaseleech* didn’t know any better.  #oops  

--If you get them relaxed enough, they will indeed curl up together in their “fish” position.

-Tyreen is the one who would wail first if separated from her brother when they were very small, but they don’t like being apart even as adults.  

-Both very well-read, used to recite The Odyssey to congregants instead of scripture (‘cause they didn’t have any scripture). 

-Good to excellent hunters. Depends what they’re hunting and if they’re together.  Prefer to go barefoot if there’s no one else around.

-The circumstances surrounding Leda’s death are appreciably worse than fanon baseline to the point I don’t think I ought to leave them lying around in a Tumblr post.  

-Both have wavy hair if they don’t iron the daylights out of it.

-Prefer to be on the road and around people, even if a fair amount of those people are going to end up dinner.

-Get weirdly soft-hearted around kids, especially little boys with a similar complexion to their own.

-Do they have any concept that they’re horrible people? Yes, but it’s very academic and not something that motivates them.  You’d be way more likely to hear them frame themselves as hedonists, which also explains their worldview to a certain extent.  

~*~

Troy

-Skinnier than most other Troys.  You could put him in a room with every fandom Troy and sort them by muscle mass, you’d find him at the bottom end, partying like this was an accomplishment.  

-Has an X-linked connective tissue disorder which is more extensive than he lets on.  He really should not do about 90% of the stunts he does because of the vascular involvement.

-Made a categorical decision to treat the associated pain with a lot of cannabis and massage.  Has a distinct resin and honey body butter smell because of this.

--Also, if you get him off-hours, there’s going to be a fair amount of “but why are we here, man?” discussion.

-Has a kink in his upper back.  His spine tilts to his right.  Not super noticeable, but if you were on massage duty, you’d realize something felt out of place.  

-Used to get catastrophic nosebleeds, though these have lessened in frequency and severity over the years.  

-After a certain point, has a permanent latching socket port installed on his right side, allowing him to switch arms out as he likes.

--Because he has a selection of eccentric ones.  What? It’s a challenge to learn to use non-human aspects like claws or feathers or forty joints in a tentacle.  

--Still flounces around without one if nobody of consequence is watching and generally won’t sleep with one in.

-The insides of his ear gauges are messy and don’t even get him started on changing the jewelry on any, erm, other piercings he might have.  (Nipples and one off-center PA.  That was QUITE enough after what it took for his tattoos to cooperate.) 

-Will frame any illness or off-day as a migraine, which he does get.

-Had really bad teeth before his mouth mods.  After that, has none of his natural teeth remaining.  Primarily uses his exceptional bite radius to annoy others, show off, eat sandwiches in a disturbing fashion and do unspeakable things in bed.  They’re for show.  They’re not functional in any serious way.  

-Doesn’t have great control of said mouth mods in the heat of passion or if you get him laughing hard enough.  Hope you like spit!

-Still has rather heinous-looking feet, but he’s concerned about losing his calluses if he has them fixed.  You’d be more likely to see him open on an operating table than barefoot in public.  

-Always wants to be the little spoon.  You’re a tink? You’re a third his size? So what.  He wants to be the little spoon.  Just give in.

-Genuinely likes tea, especially flower-based tea.  Favorite foods include grits, polenta, tamales, campfire beefy rice, beef and broccoli layered onto somebody else’s leftover noodles, beef curry, beef sandwiches soaked in jus, steak tips on day-old fries and look just give him a sloppy plate of starch and dead cow if you need him to shut up.  

-Drinks vodka so cold and over-filtered it tastes like water, then follows it up with extra greasy, burnt-to-hell texas toast while talking about his mother.

-Lactose intolerant.  Please do not feed the rat child pizza. Or chipped beef on toast.  No, not even if he begs.  

~*~

Tyreen

-Abnormally acute senses, especially hearing/smell and including a form of intuition which targets where things she can leech exist nearby.  She’s only aware of any of this in the context of it being different from how Troy’s senses work.  She knows where to get food.  Don’t most people?

-Doesn’t perceive herself as 100% human.  The Leech is part of her and she likes herself.  Mama said she was perfect.  The details are whatever.  You got a problem here? Well, that’s easy to fix… 

-Would have been sorted as a tomboy growing up, but had no companions to do so.  As is, prefers the company of masculine individuals, loves showing people up in a boyish fashion and is absolutely going to tune you out if you start talking to her about the topic.  

-Reeks.  You might smell something “off” with her around in a meeting room, but get her sweaty or worked up and forget it.  It’s not even a human smell.  Petrichor and spray paint, menstrual blood and chlorine, dead leaves and solvent.  It’s chemical, it’s uncannily biological.  It’s really not OK.  She can’t smell it and Troy’s used to it.  

-Doesn’t shave.  Has fluffy armpits that don’t match her dye job and a rather spectacular bush that extends onto her upper thighs.  Does pluck here brows and the witch hairs on her chin, but otherwise, you know what, nah.

-Heavily tattooed, but this is limited to her torso.  The viewing of said tattoos, as well as her scars, is a ritual in her particular CoV.  

--Not that she cares about being naked.  A body is a body.  You people are so uptight.  

-Will reflexively guard her lower stomach before anything else and sometimes in error.  Do not call her on this.  You will piss her off.  

-Has an eye-shaped siren marking, but it’s on her left shoulder blade and she tends to forget it’s there.  More aware of the “pointer mark” underneath her navel.

-Poor tolerance for any drugs.

-Can only ingest salt, sucrose and 80 proof or better clear alcohol without retching.

--Which is to say she doesn’t eat “people food”.  

--Fatty or high-fiber foods tend to make her ill faster.  She could possibly keep tofu or chicken breast down for an hour or more, but it’s still not going to end well.  

--Can and does eat cinder toffee because it’s one of the few things she can chew and digest.  Konpeito is nice too, but sometimes the dye upsets her stomach.  

--Milk, maybe.  Human works better.

-Enjoys swimming or long baths.

-Ambidextrous.  Was either born that way or picked up doing certain things left-handed because that’s what her brother had to work with and she had to show him how to do stuff somehow.

-Good with a forearm-mounted crossbow.  Either hand is fine.

-Used to drool precipitously when she leeched something “good”.  Mostly has a handle on this by the time the CoV gets to be a thing.  Mostly.  

-Deeply immature love language which might include her actually asking to play with her prospective partner and a good bit of bullying.

-SHE IS NOT SHY ABOUT HER NEEDS AND KINKS.  THE HELL WITH YOU.  YOU’RE MAKING SOMETHING OUT OF NOTHING.  HOW DARE YOU.  DO YOU WANT TO BE SKAG BAIT ON THE NEXT LIVESCREAM.  UGH. #nottsundereatall

~*~

* The Leech IDed herself as, erm, herself in some stuff I’m not sure I’ll ever post but ANYWAY.

[dukostuff]

0510

Prompt number: 5

Fandom: Mabinogi but with Original Characters

Rating: G

Warnings/Tags: two men liking each other

This got longer than I thought, so more under the cut ʕ； •`ᴥ•´ʔ

Seysill's eyes were gleaming at the delicious display of food in front of him. He wasn't sure if any kind of magic was used to enhance their appearance but all those dishes looked too good to be true. Perhaps his hunger was adding a few things just to make sure he wouldn't leave without at least two or three plates.

Glancing at all those choices, he already excluded some in his mind simply because he didn't like fish. No sushi, no grilled fish, no shrimp fried rice either since he wasn't fond of seafood as well.

This left him with either beef or chicken to choose from. He went for both and ordered a Show-off Steak and some Buffalo Wings as a side dish. Iolyn wasn't that picky and got himself a bowl of Tear Noodles, one of the cheaper options.

"Don't you want to try something else? Don't worry, I'll pay!", Seysill asked him, not wanting to let him starve.

"Nah, I'm not that hungry. Already ate before we left.", the other replied. Besides, he was a fine cook himself and he had been eating meat pretty much for a whole week already because his master wouldn't stop bringing those chunks of Large Meat home.

They both settled down on a bench nearby and began to dig in. No words were exchanged between the chewing and slurping, apart from the happy noises of a bear who enjoyed his food. Iolyn took a peek at him while eating. He seemed so happy and carefree, it was heart-warming. So much that tears streamed down his cheeks and he only noticed it when Seysill returned his gaze with a horrified expression.

"Iolyn, what's wrong?! Don't you like your meal?"

Actually, it was the noodles' fault. The Red Pepper Powder turned out to be spicier than Iolyn anticipated and he quickly wiped over his face and shook his head, taking deep breaths.

"Ugh, these noodles, they're super spicy!"

"Wait here, I'll get a drink for you!"

"No, just stay! I'll can handle this!"

Still worried, Seysill remain seated and observed him for a while before he continued to eat. It really caught him off-guard because he rarely saw his partner cry but he seemed to be fine after some time. They finished their meals and took a walk around the Landmark. Digesting and all.

That was when the bear noticed a big tent, covered with stars, next to the stairs which would lead down to the Fun Zone. A lonely woman sat there, her face barely visible under her hood. Her gaze seemed to be fixed on the object in front of her on the small table. A blue glowing crystal ball. Was she a fortune teller?

"Let's go over there! I'm curious about what she's seeing."

Iolyn raised a brow and agreed to come with him regardless. "A fortune teller? You believe in that stuff?”

"It won't hurt to listen. Maybe she has something interesting to say."

After getting closer, they spot some cards on the table.

"The power of the spirits dwell in those cards.", the woman said without looking up at them and she started to shuffle the deck of cards. "With it, I can tell you your fortune. Do you wish to know?"

The two exchanged a quick glance and Seysill nodded. "Yes, Miss...?"

"Atelia, call me Atelia."

"Alright, Miss Atelia. Please tell us our fortune, for the both of us."

Iolyn stared at his master in disbelief. What was that supposed to mean?

Atelia spread the cards out on the table and gestured to them. "Pick a card then, any card."

Seysill did and turned it carefully around as it looked old and worn out from usage. He recognized the sun on it.

"The Sun card... Today is your lucky day. This card represents satisfaction. If there's something you desire, now is the time to reach for it.", the fortune teller explained which rather confused the bear though. To add to it, she continued: "Hold tight to your dreams, young one. This is your fortune of the day."

Puzzled, he thanked her and they left the tent as she wasn't saying anything anymore. "I wonder what she meant..."

"Don't think too much about it. Those fortune tellers always say weird things like that!", Iolyn replied and shrugged. "Better to do stuff on your own than relying on stuff strangers say."

"I guess you're right... Let's get some snacks and listen to the concert. We can talk there?"

"Alright alright!"

They returned to the fun zone and grabbed some snacks before they made themselves comfortable on the platform near the stage where the audience could sit, watch the dancers and enjoy the music.

"So... Iolyn, I know you haven't been happy with the work I've given to you for some time and..." Seysill was hesitant about his question for a moment. "I wanted to know... do you still want to work for me?"

Iolyn almost dropped his Chocolate Banana and got up furiously. "What?! Of course I want to, why are you even asking?!" He would have left a long time ago if he didn't want to but he wanted to stay. Because of reasons.

Seysill smiled at his answer, somewhat relieved, yet there were still issues to be resolved. "I'm happy to hear that, I really am... but you're still unhappy about it. Please, tell me why."

"It's boring. Booring! I mean, I get it, you got important stuff to do, saving lives and that but... when was the last time we went to a dungeon? Or even fought together?" Iolyn took a bite and munched grumpily. "I know I'm not as strong as you, or immortal or whatever, it's just... boring to wait for you."

Seysill nodded and sighed. "I see..." His heart felt heavy upon this realising how his partner had to have felt, being left alone in his homestead. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought..." He wanted to keep him busy at least since he might be gone for days or weeks sometimes.

"It's just, I've been dealing with so many threats recently, it's too dangerous for you to come with me. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Seysill, I'm not afraid of getting hurt, you should know!" Before they had met, the brunette's life as a mercenary had been anything but safe and sound. Then again, this new life did have many good sides as well and he couldn't bear to see his master's long face any longer. "It's nice that you care and all... I don't want you to take me everywhere you go, just... don't forget me." Letters didn't count.

"I won't, believe me." Contemplating, the bear tried to find a solution because Iolyn was more than just than a hired sword and butler to him. He was more than glad that the other didn't forget him in the first place. A peculiar perk of being a Milletian in Erinn. So what could he do to ease the loneliness of someone who was dear to him?

"You must know that I can't promise to take you along as often as back then but I'll do my best." He smiled. "I'm sure there's still enough work to do regarding the dungeons... would you mind coming with me? Tomorrow maybe?"

His partner's face lit up immediately, unable to hide his excitement. "Really?"

"Really. I think her Majesty will be fine without me for some time. What do you think?"

“I might just kiss you.”

[moretomhardy]

Another random sterek AU because why not

Fandom: Teen Wolf
 Pairing: Derek/Stiles 
Words: 1,974 
Rating: General/Teen 
Content Notes: TW for self-harm, since werewolves are careless with their bodies

Summary: The Hales host a bi-annual gathering of supernatural creatures at their home. This is the first times Stiles shows up.

“Derek, sweetheart, we’ve just had a family of kelpies arrive -- you don’t happen to have any seafood in here, do you?” Mom burst through the door and swung open the fridge door, shuffling through the contents.

“Mom, relax.” Derek nudged her out of the fridge and shut it. “Kelpies tend to eat everything and usually have a preference for turf over surf. Did anyone ask them what they wanted?”

“That’s a relief,” Mom sighed, leaning back against the counter. “Laura’s talking to them now, she should be down any minute with specifics. I was afraid we were going to horribly offend them by not having fish on the menu.”

“I bought some salmon in case of emergency,” Derek returned to stirring the pot of sauce he was reducing, “but the water sprites are the only creatures that I know of in our area that will demand fish, and I have their minnows ready to go.”

“Good, okay.” Mom took a deep breath and let the tension bleed out of her shoulders.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Mama.” Derek stood on his toes to peck a kiss to the top of her head. “Now get out of here, people are going to start missing you.”

Mom wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure I can’t stay down here with you? It’s so quiet and peaceful.”

Derek barked a short laugh. “I can give you something to chop if you want, but don’t fool yourself into thinking you won’t be terribly bored in less than five minutes.”

“Sometimes I hate that I raised intelligent children,” Mom sighed. “Fine, I’ll get out of your hair.” She reached out and rubbed a hand over Derek’s neck and shoulder. “Let me know if you need any help and I’ll send Cora back.”

“I’m fine for now, but I’ll let you know.”

Mom nodded and swept her hair out of her face before sweeping herself out through the swinging kitchen doors.

Derek pulled out the fifteenth head of cabbage for the afternoon and started chopping.

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

Laura charged through the doors maybe twenty minutes later, eyes bleeding red around the pupil.

Derek dropped his knife and wiped his blood-smudged hands on a towel before reaching for Laura. She met him halfway, pulling him into her chest and rubbing her cheek along Derek’s face.

“Sorry,” she murmured, hands squeezing bruises into Derek’s torso. “Just met my first vampire and I’m having this powerful urge to run him out of our territory.”

“It’s okay.” Derek pressed himself closer to Laura and let her tuck his head under her chin, even though it was awkward position now that he was taller than her. “He wouldn’t come to a peaceful gathering to try and start something.”

“I know that.” Laura buried her face in the crook of Derek’s neck and took a deep, bracing breath. “He feels too settled here, like he’s trying to claim the land. It pisses off my alpha side.”

“He is allowed to live here, and even claim territory as long as it’s not within the preserve.”

“I never claimed it was a reasonable urge,” Laura grumbled. “I just have to get used to him. I made Cora go talk to him so that I wouldn’t start a turf war.”

“That was a good idea.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Laura loosened her grip on Derek. “I think your sauce is starting to burn.”

“It’s definitely burnt.” Derek rubbed his cheek against her collarbone one last time before pulling away. He wrinkled his nose as he pulled the burning sauce off of the stove and dumped it down the sink. Cora pushed her way through the doors as Derek was rinsing out the pot to start over.

“Laura’s vampire said he’s good with a steak as rare as you can get it while still making it look cooked, plus any root vegetables you might have on hand.”

“That’s doable.” Derek stepped over to the fridge to see what he could find in the way of the vegetables. “Did he say where he was from? I didn’t know we had any vampires in the area.”

“He said he had moved back home to Beacon Hills recently. I kinda got the feeling that he was turned against his wishes while he was away.”

Derek frowned as he started chopping the handful of beets and new potatoes he had found. “Do you know how long ago?”

Cora shrugged. “He said he grew up here, left for college, and had to stay away until he got a handle on the new lifestyle. I didn’t want to push too hard on the details.”

“If he grew up here, that explains why he has such a strong connection to the land,” Laura said. “That’s a relief, I thought we were going to have some trouble on our hands.”

“Just because he grew up here doesn’t mean he isn’t going to start trouble.” Derek drizzled some olive oil and spices on the diced vegetables before throwing them into a skillet.

“Yeah, and just because he makes Laura’s alpha senses tingle doesn’t mean he is going to start trouble, either,” Cora snorted.

Derek frowned at Cora and then at the flatiron steak he had pulled out of the refrigerator. “You think I should season it?” he asked.

“How should we know,” Cora rolled her eyes, “you’re the big fancy chef.”

Derek scowled at her before turning to Laura, who shrugged.

“I’m seasoning it,” he decided. “If he doesn’t like it he can send it back.”

“That’s the spirit,” Laura chuckled while Derek rifled through the spice drawer. He had never intentionally tried to enhance the flavor of blood in a steak, so that was something new; he rubbed in the spices and threw the steak into a hot cast iron skillet.

Derek stirred the vegetables while watching the steak. He flipped it after a minute or so. The other side got the same treatment, then Derek popped his claws to hold the hot steak vertically and get a sear on all of the edges. After that, he deemed the meat done and set in on a covered plate to rest while he finished up the vegetables.

Cora had drifted away while the steak was still cooking, bored with the situation. Derek looked over at Laura while he finished up the vegetables and got everything on a plate.

"Are you up to seeing the vampire again?" he asked.

Laura hesitated, chewing on her lip.

"Don't worry about it," Derek said, "I'll take it up to him."

"That would probably be for the best," Laura allowed. "He gets my hackles up for some reason."

"No need to take an unnecessary risk."

They both cocked their heads toward the door as Mom called for Laura upstairs.

"I'd better go see what that's about." Laura hurried out of the kitchen and Derek pulled some cutlery and a napkin out of a drawer. He thought about bringing up a glass of water to go with the food, then thought he could offer the vampire something he might find a little more appetizing. Derek grabbed an empty glass and made his way upstairs and out to the backyard where the guests were seated.

He looked around the yard, feeling a little stupid that he hadn't gotten at least a description of the vampire from Laura before she left. Then his eyes caught on an unfamiliar, pale young man sitting alone at a table on the edge of the lawn and figured he might have found the vampire anyways. He wasn’t able to pick out the sound of any heartbeat as he walked over, which was a point in favor of his theory. He stopped at the edge of the table and the man looked up at him, smiling slightly.

Derek realized he was also missing the vampire's name, something else he should have gotten from Laura before coming up. "You're the vampire?"

The man grinned. "That's me. I usually go by Stiles, though."

Derek grunted and set the plate down in front of Stiles, keeping a hold of the glass for now. "Cora said you wanted a rare steak and some root vegetables, so I did my best. I haven't cooked for a vampire before, so I'm not sure what your stance on seasoning your food is. If you don't like it I can take it back and do it again plain."

"This looks great," Stiles's smile had widened during Derek's speech. "Beets are my favorite vegetable, actually."

"I figured a vampire would like beets. Red, rich, vaguely fleshy texture."

Stiles snorted. "Well, thanks, dude."

"It's Derek. And." Derek slammed the glass down on the table before he lost his nerve, keeping his hand over the top of the glass and turning the inside of his wrist towards Stiles. "If you want, I could offer you something to drink."

Stiles looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Chef special," Derek added when Stiles stayed frozen. He hoped he hadn't offended him.

A giggle slipped out of Stiles' mouth. "Oh my god, dude, Derek, are you just casually offering me your blood?"

Derek shrugged. "I've got some to spare."

"This is -- okay." Stiles took a deep breath. "That sounds delicious, thank you, Derek."

Derek nodded and popped the claws on the hand not covering the glass. Stiles watched with fascination as Derek dug two claws into his arm and dragged upwards, opening up a good-sized gash in his arm that bled freely for several seconds. Stiles' glass was only a third full when Derek's body mended itself so Derek repeated the cut, going a little deeper and longer than before. That slice got the glass pretty close to full by the time it healed. Derek was about to wipe his fingers and forearm on the towel he still had slung over his shoulder when Stiles make an abortive motion and asked,

"Can I... clean you off?"

Derek frowned and looked between Stiles and his bloody arm, where Stiles' attention was fixed. "You want to lick me?" Derek asked.

"In so many ways, yes."

Derek felt his face flame into a blush. "Um." He looked down at his bloody hands.

"Sorry," Stiles said when the silence between them started to stretch. "That's probably super inappropriate. Forget I said anything, please."

"That's, um." Derek cleared his throat and pulled his towel off of his shoulder, slowly wiping off his hand and forearm. "Maybe another time, somewhere less public."

"What, really?" Stiles asked. His eyes were wide when Derek chanced a glance over at him.

"Yes," Derek decided. Laura was always telling him he needed to take more chances, after all.

"That's -- wow, uh, can I give you my phone number?" Stiles scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket.

"How about I give you mine." Derek plucked Stiles' phone out of his hands as soon as he had it unlocked and made a new contact for himself. He smiled as he handed the phone back to Stiles.

"Awesome." Stiles took his phone back. "You'll definitely be hearing from me."

"Are you gonna try it?" Derek gestured at Stiles' plate.

"Yes, definitely." Stiles picked up the glass of blood and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath over the mouth of the glass. He took a long sip and groaned in satisfaction as he swallowed.

Derek stared at Stiles as he opened his eyes and grinned up at him. "Delicious," Stiles said, blood staining the crevices between his teeth.

"That's --" Derek swallowed hard and crossed his hands in front of his hips as his blood started rushing south. "That's not what I meant."

"No?" Stiles' grin widened.

"Um, I've got to get back to the kitchen." Derek turned tail and fled before he could make a fool of himself any further, the sound of Stiles' laughter following after him.

[spooky-raccoon]

Love Struck (Part 1) (Rufo X Reader)

Rufo needs some love fam and I am here to help out the Rufo fandom (even though I haven’t read the books yet but I’m gonna fix that).

I blame the lovely @ihaveaseriousclownproblem for be-stilling these emotions into my soul for another clown monster.  I have no regrets though.

If you are not a fan of the Rufo fic I’ll be posting then go ahead and look at the tags so you’ll know what to block.

         I admit I had been distracted as I made my way down the sidewalk.  I had to review several documents for some clients and was reading a shorter one as I rounded a corner.  My shoulder connected with someone and a few things I was holding went flying.  I heard the grunt of a man when my shoulder hit him as my mind panicked.

         “I am so sorry!”  I quickly knelt down to pick up the things we had both dropped, gathering his things in one hand and mine in the other. “I know I’m stupid for not looking. I really should have.”  His hand had grabbed a few things and he had been grumbling to himself.  My head looked up to him as I spoke, “Again, I’m so-”  

         My words cut off as I looked at his eyes. They were a pale icy blue that were framed by his high cheek bones.  He had long black hair that flowed to his shoulder.  Slowly, he stood back up and so did I.  He towered over me as he was over six feet tall.  My heart was skipping a few beats it seemed.  There was something eerie about him as he glared at me.

         “You were saying?”  He leaned a bit, hooking his thumb into his pocket as he gave me an exasperated look.

         “I’m sorry, sir.”  I could feel the heat on my cheeks from embarrassment and by just looking at him.  “I hope you have a good day, sir.”  I nodded my head in goodbye and quickly turned down the side walk.  I really hoped to see him again, but I doubt he would ever want to see me again.

         Several blocks down was a Starbucks that I usually visited after work to get something to stay awake as I sifted and sorted paperwork. I hadn’t been paying attention to anyone near me or directly behind me as I ordered.  When I could I often would pay for the person behind me by using a re-loadable gift card I kept at the counter that the employees knew about. It was always nice to make someone’s day a little better.  As I grabbed my drank after paying for whoever was behind me I turned.  I would have stopped in my step but that feeling of embarrassment swept over me when we locked eyes briefly.  It was the man from before.  He gave me a sly looking smile as he ordered and when the barista waved his card away, pointing to me as he spoke his smile grew soft.  I usually didn’t mind when people thanked me but before the man could get the chance I rushed out the door.

         I had finally made it home and decided to wait for my day off to deal with the paperwork I had brought home.  Once I was in my fuzzy sleep shorts and a long sleeve shirt I headed to the kitchen to make dinner.  I had thawed out some steaks and a potato soup going in the crock pot. A knock on my door startled me just as I set the pan on the stove.  Walking over to the door I slowly opened it.  There stood the same man from before.

         “You forgot this.”  His hand extended outwards with a few envelopes in his hand.  So that’s how he knew my address. “(Y/N).  Nice name.”  The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

         “Thank you.”  I grabbed the envelopes and smiled at him.  “I, uh, never got your name.”  I could feel the same embarrassment feeling coming back to me. How could I have been so rude to this guy?

         “Rufo.  My name is Rufo.”  He leaned against the door frame as an idea clicked in my head.

         “Rufo, I want to apologize again for earlier. Come inside, please.  Have a seat at the table.”  My smile beamed as I moved to the side to let him in.

         “If you say so.”  He shrugged, shutting the door behind him as I walked back into the kitchen.  

         I saw him sit down, his legs sprawled a bit. I began to rub some of my favorite spices into the steaks when I noticed him tearing apart a napkin.  He was so focused on it that he didn’t even notice me as I walked over to the couch nearby and picking up the remote.

         “If there’s anything you’d like to watch feel free to flip through the channels.  It’s on some animal documentaries right now.”  I smiled at him as I set the remote next to him then headed back to the kitchen.

         I poured a little oil into the pan along with some butter, letting it melt together as the pan heated up.  Once the pan was to the right heat I set the steaks into the pan.  While one side seared I would fill a bowl with soup, flip the steaks, and fill the other bowl as a sort of timer.  I was able to fit the soup bowl onto the plate in a presentable way.  I carried our plates to the table and set them down, putting Rufo’s plate in front of him.  He had been so distracted by the animal documentary until now.

         “I wasn’t sure how you liked your steaks done so I did it rare if that’s fine.”  I settled down into my seat after getting our silverware and water for both of us.

         “Fuckin’ perfect.”  He had begun to cut up the steak, eating the pieces and occasionally taking sips of his water.

         It was oddly peaceful as we ate.  It didn’t feel as if we were strangers just hours ago. The sound of soft music along with some animal noises in the background played.  Rufo would sometimes turn around to watch.  

         “So (Y/N),” he turned back to me after setting his fork down and picking up the spoon, so he could eat the soup, “tell me about yourself.”  He propped his elbow on the table and looked at me intently.

         “I,” I paused to think about what I could tell him, and I let out a small huff, “there isn’t anything interesting about me, to be honest.  I work here in town for an insurance company.  I mostly sit at home, watching things like animal documentaries or listening to rock music to get the day going by.”  I shrugged as I looked down at my soup as I stirred it with my spoon.  “I’m sorry if that’s not what you were looking for. What about you?”  I looked back up to him and my spoon clattered to the bowl when I saw his face now.

         His skin had turn pale white like snow.  The flowing black hair of his was now a blue just like the make up now on his face, except the lips.  There was a large red smile painted on his mouth.  Before I could say anything, he came up and around me, placing his large hands on my shoulders and giving them a light squeeze.

         “Now, now don’t freak out.  I’m not going to hurt you.”  His hands squeezed a little harder this time as he brought his head next to mine.  “I may be a dead man walking but I am a gentleman still.  I do admit though if you had been rude like most of the pathetic cretins in this town you probably would be dead the second you ran into me with no words of an apology but no.”  His hands were now softly massaging my shoulders and I realized how tense I was. There had been talk of murders in town, but I had just ignored them.  This was the man doing it?  “You’ve been so sweet and kind far beyond what I expected.”  His hands rubbed up to the base of my neck as his thumbs rubbed the tense muscle.  “I do plan to repay the favor but first I have to leave town for a few weeks. Promise you’ll still be here doll?” One hand left the back of my neck to meet my chin to turn my head to the side where we met eyes.  “I wanna hear you say that you’ll promise Old Rufo that you’re gonna stay.”

         “I-I promise, Rufo.”  My heart was pounding hard in my chest.  I’m not sure if I was afraid, intimidated or to the fact I still found him oddly attractive despite his eerie appearance.  “I promise.”

         “I’m so happy to hear doll.”  His hand slid up to my cheek as he spoke as his grin grew wider. “I’m not a huge fan of people bumping and running.  Doesn’t end well with them.”  He shrugged and picked up our empty dishes, heading to the kitchen.  

         I stood up as he entered the kitchen.  I followed behind him and just before he started washing them.  He turned his head with a confused look on my face.  I guess he thought I would be scared and not wanting to interact with him until he came back.

         “You’re my guest still, even if you are well,” I looked him over then back up to him, “a bit different.”  Lightly I pulled him by his belt loop away from the sink and began washing dishes.  “I’m still a host.  Guests get to relax.”  I turned my head to look at him.

         “I’m going to at least help you dry them.” He grabbed the dishtowel I had hanging from a top cabinet.  I let out a sigh as I handed him a wet plate.

         “I guess that’s fine.  If you like ice cream you can stay for a bowl and we can watch another documentary.”  He set the plate into the dishes cabinet and took another wet dish from my hand.

         “Such hospitality.  I bet I could stay the night too if I needed too.”  He laughed as he wiped the towel on the dish.

         “Actually, yes.  You may look scary and you probably are someone I should be afraid of, but you haven’t personally done anything wrong to me.” Once the plate left his hand I put a bowl in it.  “You can either crash on the couch or in the guest bedroom.  Whichever you prefer.  If you have to leave early, feel free to make breakfast for yourself before you head out.”

         “I,” there was a long pause has he dried the bowl and then dried the next, “I’ll be honest this isn’t what I expected.”

         “And you think this is what I expected?”  I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him as he finished drying the last dish.  “Now go look in the freezer to pick your ice cream and go pick a documentary.”  I gave him a warm smile and once he set the towel back where it was he picked out his ice cream.

         I had a million thoughts going on in my head as I scooped our ice cream into bowls.  He had asked for a lot of whipped cream on top of his, so I made a small mountain on top of his.  There was a deep-sea documentary playing as I entered the living room and sat next to him. His eyes widened at his bowl as he grabbed onto it.  I couldn’t help but to giggle.  The rest of the time we just sat there watching the television.  Oddly, it was still peaceful feeling around us despite him showing what he was to me.  We cleaned the bowls once we were done and we both decided to sleep.  He was comfortable with the couch, so I brought out some blankets and pillows for him to use.  After saying goodnight, I headed off to my own bedroom.  I wasn’t sure what to think, let alone feel, about this Rufo man but I guess I would find out in time.

@float-me-to-the-moon @slushi

[timemachineyeah]

Question Tag Game

Answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you want to know better  I might tag some folks at the end if I feel like it, but 20 is ridic. 

1. Nicknames: Jess

2. Gender: Girl-ish

3. Star Sign: Aries

4. Height: 5′9″

5. Time: 8:03PM

6. Birthday: April 15

7. Favorite Bands: Um... Janelle Monae, A Great Big World, Carly Rae Jepsen, been listening to a lot of MUNA lately? The music I listen to varies wildly, so ask me on another day I might have completely different answers.

9. Song stuck in my head: This One. No lie. It gets stuck in my head a lot.

10. Last movie I watched: Around the World in 80 Days

11. Last show I watched: Hunter x Hunter, but before that it was The Good Place

12. When did I create my blog: 2011. God fucking hell.

13. What do I post/reblog: Mostly a combination of fandom/humor/politics/cute things but honestly there is no cohesion I don’t think I will ever be disciplined enough for that

14. Last Thing I Googled: po po plate

15. Other Blogs: @timemachineliveblogs and @heavenlyfodder are probably the two most active. I also have a long abandoned GW2 blog at @havefaithincaithe

16. Do I get asks: sometimes and I am usually very bad at answering them and feel guilty

17. Why I chose my URL: Time-Machine was my nickname in high school. The yeah was just added to the end because the first time I couldn’t find some variant of “timemachine” available that was all I could think of. 

18. Following: 187

19. Followers: 2846, but most are either defunct or robots I haven’t cleared out yet.

20. Average hours of sleep: I have a sleep disorder, so the answer varies wildly, but usually like 9-10

21. Lucky Number: I don’t really have one.

22. Instruments: Played flute in school. Nothing since, though.

23. What am I’m wearing: Heather gray pajama pants and a blue cotton tank top.

24. Dream job: TV Developer, Script Doctor, Pop Culture Commentator, Social Activist, Unemployed Humanitarian Millionaire

25. Dream trip: The company matters more than the destination, tbh.

26. Favorite food: Eggs? Brown Sugar & Berry Salmon? Steak? 

27. Nationality: American

28. Favorite song: According to iTunes, which is inaccurate because it doesn’t know what’s going on on Youtube, Spotify, or Pandora, but according to iTunes my most played song is “Nothing Matters When We’re Dancing” by the Magnetic Fields, which is a pretty good song, so fine.

29. Last Book Read: I read read “Mortal Engines” by Phillip Reeve. I listened to “Rosemary and Rue” by Seanan McGuire. I’m in the middle of “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed” by Jon Ronson and “Predator’s Gold” by Phillip Reeve. I feel like there was a short book I plowed through in the middle there that I’m forgetting. 

30. Top three fictional universe I’d want to join: Fraggle Rock (we are all muppets, almost nothing truly lethally dangerous ever happens, problems can be resolved by singing and playing and talking to each other), Steven Universe (optimism is the greatest superpower, there’s cool magic rocks, Connie Maheswaran exists), Parks and Rec/West Wing Crossover (aisle-crossing cooperation actually works, the problems in the government are easily fixed by enough idealism, Leslie Knope exists and is saving the country, Jed Bartlet is president). 

Um, I tag @tipsykipsy, @plummetationzigzags, @spaceswordblaster, @tiskycat and anyone else who wants to, tbh. Also you definitely don’t have to. Woo.

[winchester-writes]

Fearful Love Part 9

Jared Padalecki x Reader

Word Count: 1,325

Warnings: nothing really....

Summary: I’m horrible at these so I’m not even going to give one for this part.

A/N: So what you’re about to read is actual shit. I almost deleted the whole thing idk how many fucking times....anyways...I kept my promise on getting something out tonight even though it’s absolute trash....beta’d by the @mamapeterson (honestly I wouldn’t have posted if she didn’t fix all of the horrible mistakes) and feedback(negative or positive) is greatly appreciated!!

Fearful Love Masterlist

Later that night, Jared kept his promise and took you out to dinner at the steak restaurant the two of you would go to with everyone else. Picking that place again strictly because he knew how much you loved the macaroni and cheese. 

“Uhm, is there a possibility to get bacon added into the mac ‘n cheese?” You questioned the waiter who gave a funny look, but wrote it down on his notepad regardless. “Thanks!”

Jared couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he tried not to laugh, sitting in a high class restaurant and bursting into a fit of laughter wouldn’t be ideal.

“What? What’s so funny?” you asked, trying not to laugh yourself.

“Just his face when you asked for bacon, no one has probably asked that before. I’ll be surprised if they actually do that.” Jared chuckled as he reached across the table to hold your hand, “You’re definitely one of a kind Y/N, that’s why I love you so much.”

You blushed under his gaze, turning your own towards the table before looking up at him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

After the perfect dinner, Jared didn’t want it to end just yet, deciding to take you out on a walk around the lake that’s about two blocks from the apartment. Finding a bench close to the water, he pulled you close and leaned his cheek against the top of your head. “Ya know, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. Out of everything that’s happened in my life….I never pictured getting such a beautiful girl to love me.”

Jared looked down at you the moment you looked up at him, a look of pure adoration was sparkling in his eyes, almost taking your breath away, “R-really?”

“Really Y/N.” Jared’s hand came up to cup your cheek as his face got significantly closer to yours. “And after everything we’ve been through, I’m surprised she doesn’t see how much I really do love her.” You had tried to interrupt him, but it’s almost like he read your mind. “Even if she is slightly ‘broken’.”

The moment Jared’s lips touched yours again it was like a fire igniting throughout your entire body. Your world was made right and you never wanted it turned upside down again. A moan...yes, a moan actually escaped your lips. You’re not sure how long it’s been since something like that had come out but it felt nice and if that was the only way to let him know then so be it. You felt him smirk against the kiss before pulling away so his lips could make their way down your neck. Luckily not a lot of people were out walking the lake this late at night.

As Jared’s lips came into contact with your pulse point your breath hitched in the back of your throat, “Jared…”

“Mmmm?”

“Take me home and….” You breathing had become labored as you thought about the words that were about to leave your mouth, “T-take me home and love me.”

The way Jared pulled back and looked at you told you that he knew what you meant. “A-are you sure? I mean….we don’t have to go so fast, we can take things slow and if you’re not ready then we-”

You nod furiously, “Yes, yes, take me home and love me all night.”

Jared smiled wide before grabbing her hand walking back over to the car. His heart rate accelerating just thinking about how he was going to be spending the rest of his night.

Jared sat up in bed in the middle of the night, looking over at the other side of the bed and seeing your bare back facing him as you slept on your stomach, your beautiful face turned towards him, and your hands cuddling the pillow under your head. If his smile could’ve gotten any wider it would have been at that sight. You looked absolutely gorgeous and he hated that he had to get up.

Texting Jensen, he made sure he was waiting outside. Once he got that confirmation he was getting out of the bed as quietly as he could. Jared quickly threw on some clothes and a pair of shoes before making his way downstairs. Making sure to grab his wallet and that note before completely leaving the building.

Both men start to make their trek down to the police station to hopefully get this whole stalking situation taken care of. Once the note was taken in by the police chief, he said he would try his best to figure out what was going on. Jared accepted that, told the chief thank you, and was soon on his way back to his apartment with Jensen. Lucky to have a friend that would stay up half the night just to do this.

Jensen gets a confused expression when he heard a sniffle but realizes what’s going on the moment he looks over at Jared, “Dude are you crying?”

“I just...I’m sorry man. Y/N...she’s just my everything and seeing what that dick has done to her, emotionally and physically. I want nothing more than to carry that burden for her but she’s so stubborn she barely let’s me in. She’s just now accepting the fact that I love her. She keeps repeatedly telling me how broken she is and that I shouldn’t but after tonight….I think she finally might have a firm grip on what’s true.”

Jensen reached out and gave Jared a giant hug, letting him get all of his emotions out without any judgement, like a good friend should. After pulling away and patting a hand on his back they started walking again, “So what happened tonight?”

Jared cleared his throat, “Uhm...we kinda...we uh...slept together.”

“Whoa dude, nice one!” Jensen laughed as Jared blushed, thinking about the event that had occurred just hours ago.

The two boys split ways after a while of talking on the corner of the street. Jensen heading down the opposite street towards his apartment.

Right as Jared got to the corner diagonal from his apartment, he saw a black van screech to a halt in front of the doors. A tall red headed woman dressed in black stepped out of the drivers side as three men completely dressed in black and ski masks get out from the side door. Jared rushed over a pile of bushes as his heart rate picked up, hiding behind them, watching the three men run inside while the woman watched over the van. He was curious as to what they were doing, afraid to step in just in case they were armed. However, he did get their license plate number to give off to the police later on.

What he saw next though he wasn’t prepared for. The three men were carrying out a giant blanket but it was thrashing about. Was that a person kicking about in there? Then he heard a scream before they threw the blanket wrapped person inside of the van. Right as they were about to shut the door he heard another scream and then complete silence. The scream was his name. That was Y/N screaming for him to save her.

When the van took off, Jared ran out from behind the bushes, screaming, “NO!” Jared ran and ran down the street until his body gave out on him, collapsing onto his knees in the middle of the street, tears streaming down his face. He had no idea who these people were, if they even knew you, or just picked a random room in the apartment building to kidnap someone from. All he did know was that you were now missing and gone without so much as an inkling as to where you might be.

Fearful Love Tag List **CLOSED**(If you’re crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag you): @abaddonwithyall, @pada-ackles, @balthazars-muse, @bookshido, @sincerelysaraahh, @demondean-for-kingofhell, @oriona75, @kittenofdoomage, @faith-in-dean, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @writingbeautifulmen, @waywardlullabies, @one-shots-supernatural , @winchesterenthusiast, @manawhaat, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @fangirl1802, @bringmesomepie56, @paigeinastory, @dancingalone21, @jerkbitchidjitassbutt, @latinenglishfandomblog, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @mysteriouslyme81, @tardis-is-mine, @lunatrixlupin, @angel-allie-winchester, @http-loveyou, @spn-dw, @pretty-odd-jen, @faegal04, @jared-padaloveme, @savvythedork, @crossroads-deanmon, @nicolejones412, @fabthemunster, @iamnotsaneatall, @evyiione, @skathan-omaha, @fandom-whore2point0, @atc74, @xtina2191, @arrwow, @deaninathighholster, @too-much-winchester, @smoothdogsgirl, @blacktithe7, @moose-lyfe, @crzcorgi, @waiting4thedoctor, @jpadjackles, @impalaimagining, @deanwinchesterisamazing, @wrong-universe, @elliewinchesterr, @supernatural-jackles, @sortaathief, @gecko9596, @ambocalypse, @sherrilynn67, @jensen-gal, @demonic-meatball, @nothin-after-79, @maui137, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @arryn-nyx, @love-kittykat21, @iamnotsaneatall, @jayankles, @devilgirlsarah, @poukothenerd, @moonstar86, @allieyolo123, @delessapeace-blog, @missdestiel67, @fangirlingfanatic2442, @bemyqueenofdarkness, @hexparker, @missdestiel67, @malecsunshine, @piketori1432, @charliebradbury1104, @mogaruke, @thewhisperingfox, @evyione, @thevioletthourr

[lyannas]

A Thousand Silhouettes - Part One

Summary: The last thing Brandon Stark remembered was darkness, and it was darkness he woke to.

Brandon Stark survives King's Landing with scars both physical and emotional. The world as he knew it has changed, and at the center of it all is a bastard boy with his mother's eyes.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Relationships: Brandon Stark & Lyanna Stark, Brandon Stark & Ned Stark, Jon Snow & Brandon Stark Tags: Brandon Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, (just in case), Platonic Relationships, Family Dynamics Chapters: 1/4

Read at AO3, or read here:

I.

The last thing Brandon Stark remembered was darkness, and it was darkness he woke to.

Blinking did not change that fact. All around him was black, and the bitter cold. Am I dead? There must be a reason for all this darkness-- there must also be a reason for all this pain.

His neck burned. When Brandon raised his hand to touch it, he felt a length of cloth, wet with blood. He pulled it off ignoring how his nerves screamed, and felt the ridges along his bloody skin-- with it came a fresh wellspring of pain. Touching the wounds that wrapped around his neck, Brandon tapped into his memory, and remembered.

If Brandon had the voice to scream, he would have. If he had the strength to weep, he would have.

II.

A gaelor came with light and a plate of gruel.

Brandon squinted against the approaching light, before recoiling at the heat of the fire. The growl in his throat was strangled as he choked on the smell of burning flesh, of a blood red throne room, two ropes against his throat-- in poor time, the horror faded away into the gaelor's wretched face. When the man came near, Brandon tried to spit in his eye. Nothing but a rain of spittle left his lips.

The gaelor laughed. “I wouldna do that if I were you,” he said, his voice low and cruel. “Else you won’t get any food at all.”

“Water,” Brandon demanded hoarsely, not brought low enough to beg.

“You think this is some feast? I’m no servant to fetch water and wine for the little lord. Do yourself a favor, and die quickly. If the black cells don’t kill you, the king surely will.”

Not if I kill him first , he would have said if his dry mouth could form words.

III.

Brandon remembered a week he spent in the wolfswood with nothing but his sword, a bow, and the clothes on his back.

He had been sixteen, and had told Lord Dustin he was going to ride home to Winterfell for a visit. His men left him just before the winter town, trusting him to ride the rest of the way to the gates of Winterfell without issue. Brandon stopped in an inn to sit and drink a mug of ale while he waited for the men to ride far enough away. He then left his horse in the stables, and walked the rest of the way to the wolfswood.

He wanted to see if he could survive.

On the first day, he killed a fawn. He skinned it for its hide, and cooked it over a fire, foolishly scarfing every bit of meat down, arrogant enough to think that he’d find food the next day.

He didn’t. Not even a hare had crossed his path, and Brandon starved and shivered for three days. On the fourth, he came across a lone wolf. It was a black-eyed wolf with grey fur who circled Brandon, silently snarling. He was moving slow enough to kill; Brandon could have flown an arrow between its eyes, worn its pelt for warmth, and rationed its meat over the next couple of days.

Brandon didn’t. The wolf seemed to nod at him before it slinked away. An hour later, Brandon had killed a stag, 3 hares, and a pheasant.

Four days later, he had been sleeping happily beneath his furs on the cool grass when his father’s men came upon him. Apparently, Lord Rickard had been a breath away from arresting Lord Dustin and the men he sent to escort Brandon for carelessly losing his firstborn son. Brandon had grinned in his father’s stern face when he recounted how well he done out in the wild, and begged him to let him return. His father did the opposite, and placed guards outside his room, where he was confined for the same amount of time that he had spent free.

The memory of his father both pained him and enlivened him. Brandon could survive this black cell. He could survive anything. He had to.

IV.

He had friends in the castle, though he does not know who. It was not the king-- that much was certain, but he knew that someone had interest in keeping him alive and well.

Meat showed up in his gruel from time to time. An entire leg of lamb, or a cut of mutton, or a thin slab of steak would appear, and he ate it at it over the course of days, ignoring how it spoiled, until the next one showed up. The gaelor brought him a torch to keep in his cell, one that Brandon squinted against and agonized over for days before he could open his eyes and smell his own piss again. A maester came to clean the wounds around his neck and replace the bandages. Even the straw in his cell was refreshed every now and again.

“Who sends you?” He growled at the maester, feeling more beast than man chained up in darkness. His voice was harsh and rough from disuse, echoing off the walls with the sound a rusted sword might make when put to the whetstone.

“The king intends for you to die down here-- or he’s forgotten about you, who can say? The man who sends me thinks you’re worth more alive,” the young maester said feebly. His chain was markedly short, shorter than Walys’s had been.

“Does your master want to kill the king?”

The maester looked startled. “I do not think so.”

“Then why would he want me alive?”

V.

He had spent 413 days in his cell by the time Ned came to him.

He thought it had been a dream. He thought his brother was coming to him across the river of death, prepared to ferry him across and embrace him. He nearly wept at the thought that Ned was among the dead, but it was no dream after all. Ned and Ethan Glover each put one of his arms around their necks and led him out into the brightest light Brandon had ever seen.

It was Ned who cut his hair and shaved him. It was even Ned who bathed him. His eyes were shut, but he knew it was Ned by his quiet voice, though it was different than he remembered it. It was a man’s voice. A voice that had seen and suffered.

“We didn’t know if you were alive,” his brother admittedly somberly. “They never sent us any bones. We thought you were dead.” Minutes later: “I married Catelyn Tully in your place. A useless union now-- but she… She is with child. Perhaps there is still a way...”

“Take her,” Brandon had rasped. “Take her, and Winterfell too. I don’t want it.”

“But--"

“I don’t want it.” It was an honest confession, and one that Brandon doubted he’d regret. Power, responsibility, marriage, children-- Brandon wanted nothing to do with them anymore. “Is Lya with you?” His brother had grown silent over that, and it jarred him enough to force him to open a stinging eye. “Where is she?”

“We don’t know yet,” Ned said as he frowned. Gods, he look different. He even had a beard. “I’ll find her, Brandon, I promise. I’ll bring her home.”

“That was my job,” Brandon said between gritted teeth. “I was to drive a sword through Rhaegar’s black heart, and bring her home.”

“Rhaegar’s dead, Brandon,” his brother said.

“And the mad king?”

“Dead too. Jaime Lannister killed him-- Robert is king now.”

“Robert Baratheon?”

“Yes. He killed Rhaegar at the Trident.”

“Damn Robert. Damn the Lannister pup too--” Brandon growled, as hot tears streaked down his cheeks. “They were mine to kill.”

VI.

Ned left the next day to carry out the king’s business. None visit him but for Robert, but only once. Brandon was still squinting and unused to bright light when he came, but he could recall his arrogant voice with unpleasant ease.

“I’ve avenged Lyanna, but I won’t rest until she’s in my arms again,” Robert pledged, his voice as obnoxious and thundering as he had remembered, even more so to Brandon’s sensitive senses. “I’ve killed Rhaegar, and the Lannisters brought me the bodies of his wife and dragonspawn.”

“A woman and her children?” Brandon inquired, mouth twisting into a scowl. His fire was slowly returning to him, but not quickly enough. “How brave of you lot.”

“If I had gotten to them first, they would have suffered the same,” Robert said. “Lya would have wanted that. Look at what they did to her; look at what they did to you .” He gestured to his neck, and Brandon’s anger flares.

“Do not call her Lya. You haven’t earned the right,” Brandon growled. “You do not know what my sister wants, nor will you ever. Once she’s found, I’m taking her home.”

“We’re betrothed--”

“I’m calling it off.”

“Says the former heir to Winterfell,” Robert spat furiously. He looked the part of a storm lord now, bristling and crackling like thunder. “I’ll have her, as your father promised. She’s mine.”

Brandon did not yet have the strength to laugh, so he settled for a scoff instead. You could not make her yours if you fought a hundred wars for her.

VII.

Brandon was still used to counting days-- 39 pass, and his brother had sent word that he would return soon.

Within that time, Brandon had found a way to open his eyes again, though he had difficulty focusing on objects farther than fifteen feet away, and colors appeared more muted, more grey. More importantly, his strength had returned to him, though the fine muscle that once padded his body had wasted away, color had drained from his skin, and he was left skinny and pale. Such matters could be easily fixed-- with food and sun, perhaps he’d once again resemble the man he was before the black cells.

The scars around his neck, however, were a new and permanent addition. They mimicked the pattern of crisscrossed ropes that he had been bound with, each and every ridge visible, red, and raw. Brandon no longer wore bandages around them-- he would have the whole world see how he cheated death. He would have them see what he would suffer for those he loved.

VIII.

On the 41st day, Ned returned to tell him Lyanna was dead. Dead, and the mother of a child.

Any strength lost to him over the past year returned in a rush, and Brandon had turned over half of his stately room before Ned got a hold of him.

“It’s not right!” Brandon had bellowed as his world fell out from under him. Ned’s touch had rocked him to his knees, and he clutched at his brother’s shirt like a frightened child. His fingers bled from breaking glass and splintering wood, and stained Ned's shirt. “She was only a girl, Ned, she’s not supposed to die, I swore-- I swore-- And that monster-- that monster , you would raise his bastard? The bastard that killed her?” His voice cracked on the last two words. “How could you? How could you?”

“She made me promise, Brandon,” Ned urged him, strong hands gripping his arms. “Promise that I’d protect him, and bring her home.”

“I was supposed to save her,” Brandon wept over and over. “She was only a girl. Our sister, Ned, our sweet little sister--”

Tears mixed with blood on Ned's shirt. The 41st day proved colder and darker than the black cells ever hoped to be.

[deecherrywolf]

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender Pairings: Klance (obviously) Rating: M Prompt: KlanceWeek 2k17 Day 5 - Partners in Crime Summary: Keith and Lance have made fond memories on many planets, even if the inhabitants don’t exactly like those memories.

“What have you two done?”

Lance frowned as he lowered his knife and fork, looking down at the nice piece of meat Hunk had fixed for them. It was rare that they had meat. Sure, the trips to Earth helped and the alliances they forged provided an endless supply of alien foods - but in the long run, nothing could beat their own food from Earth - meat was one of those things Hunk tried to save for once a week and special occasion meals, so even putting a small pause on the meal made Lance pout.

Keith, on the other hand, talked around his mouthful of meat. “We didn’t do anything.”

Allura frowned. “Then why are the Yewmites making a fuss over the red and blue paladins?”

“Yewmites?”

Keith’s brows furrowed as he thought about it alongside Lance. It was actually quite common for many planets to be wary of or be downright panicked over the thought of Keith and Lance. The two of them became the ultimate partners in crime - or more like, partners of justice. They worked together on most missions and the planets that had Zarkon resistance groups, Lotor purists, and the lost goes on - those all feared them.

But the Yewmites? They were a part of the alliance - not really providing anything other than a safe haven if needed, but they were a peaceful planet, one they never had any problem with. So Lance couldn’t figure out what had they done to piss off such gentle creatures?

It was a moment later, his memory clicked and his eyes widened.

Oh… Ohh.

The last time he and Keith had visited the planet Yewmithil, they had been on a date. A date that ended up in a nice hotel room - which they had paid for, the Yewmites had been more than happy to house the great paladins of Voltron. But, perhaps, they had overstayed their welcome when they may have dirtied the sheets a little and maybe caused a little… destruction of the room…

Lance’s coughed, beginning to cut into his meat again while Allura sighed.

“I’m not asking for you to always be on your best behavior, that would be unfair-”

“And hypocritical.” sneered Lance, giving Allura this look that made her cheeks grow pink. Allura may be the Princess of Altea and Voltron’s main representative, but she still had her moments of immaturity, just like the rest of them - even if they were all growing into their roles and the childishness had left them long ago.

“It would be unfair, to expect that out of you all the time. I’m just asking you to not anger or disturb our allies.”

“Okay.”

Satisfied, Allura nodded and left the room.

Keith placed his utensils down. “Do you remember what happened on Yewmithil?”

Lance chewed on the piece of meat and swallowed before he waggled his brows. “Yeah, I do.”

Lance could feel Keith’s eyes on him as he finished his meal, when he swallow the last piece on his plate, Keith picked up the empty plate for him, giving him a smoldering look, his voice dropping an octave.

“I’d like an encore performance of that night.”

Lance licked his lower lip, tasting steak, his lower belly now churning with desire. Oh, he definitely wanted to experience that night all over again. The two of them didn’t always have good sex - they were often clumsy with each other, hurrying in case they had to rush out for a mission or otherwise, and sometimes, they were just too tired to make it really good, but that night? Oh, it had been amazing. No wonder the Yewmites hated them - they probably rocked the hotel, maybe even the whole planet, with their fucking.

“You coming?” said Keith at the doorway, crooking a finger for him to follow him.

Lance pushed out of his chair faster than normal, following Keith down the hall, towards their bedroom. Keith growled, pulling Lance into a kiss as their door slide shut.

Lance’s heart hammered as he took control from there, pushing Keith against the wall beside the door, tugging that plump lower lip between his teeth. Keith groaned, arching his back and arms reaching around to grasp a handful of Lance’s ass, pressing them closer together. The two of them released a soft puff of breath, one that was practically breathless in its need. Lance couldn’t help but bite down a moan as they rutted against each other, fully clothed - like damn teenagers. He also couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

If only they had been doing this when they were teenagers, it would have made the tension between the two of them better and it would have helped clear their minds for the war they had been thrown into by fate.

Oh well, no point in dwelling on the past; no time like the present.

And present Keith was definitely better than past Keith.

“Hngh… c’mon!”

Lance would have laughed, if not for the intense snap of arousal as Keith’s hips worked harder up against his own. He needed Keith naked, and he needed him naked, now. He worked deftly at Keith’s pants, peeling the buckle open and then working on his button and zipper. Keith sighed when pressure was released. Lance palmed Keith through his underwear, lovingly paying attention to that shaft, before finally pulling the undergarment down.

His lower belly fluttered at the sight of Keith’s dick - as it always did. Excitement pulsed through him as he reached down and now grasped Keith, a gentle firmness that made Keith’s back arch.

“I thought..nn.. We were going to reenact that night?”

A challenge was in Keith’s eyes, one that was spurring Lance on. He released his hold on Keith’s dick, eyes dark with passion. Keith opened his mouth to taunt him some more, but Lance cut him off as he spun him around and pressed his front against the wall now, working on his own pants.

“Silly me, I forgot about that.”

Keith smirked at him. “My body that mesmerizing?”

“Yeah, it is - you’re so fucking hot, unbelievable.”

Keith laughed, but that laugh became a moan when two fingers began prodding his behind. Lance swirled his opening with two of his fingers, hyper aware of the fact that Keith was letting him do this. Keith was definitely stronger than him, if he didn’t want to be pinned to a wall - he wouldn’t be, but the fact that this was all Keith - wanting and needing Lance to press against him, it spurred Lance on like nothing else and yet filled him with such tenderness he swore his heart would explode.

“Get the damn lube and stop teasing me.”

“So bossy.”

Keith grunted, mock-kicking at Lance’s shin as he walked off to grab the lubrication, but before he could return to Keith, Lance laughed as Keith attached himself to him, kissing his neck. Lance’s laugh turned into a moan when Keith’s lips grazed over sensitive flesh.

“I thought you wanted to bottom, Pumpkin?”

Keith snorted, pulling away from Lance now. “Call me pumpkin again, and no one will be bottoming.”

“Whatever you say, sweetie.”

Keith plucked the lubricant out of Lance’s hand, pushing Lance down onto the bed. Lance went compliantly, making sure to fall on his back as he watched Keith step out of his pants before he straddled him - his arm going behind his back to work on himself. Lance licked his lips - he loved watching Keith open himself, there was something extremely hot about it - like he just couldn’t wait for Lance to do it - so he had to do it himself. He watched Keith’s eyes - the way they flickered from the initial burn, but once he adjusted those eyes smoldered, mouth parting as he worked on himself.

Shit, Lance could feel himself throb.

He reached up, rubbing circles against Keith’s hips. “If I recall, the night at Yewmithil was me fucking you against the wall so hard that you punched a dent into the wall, and then we made a good mess of the bed.”

Keith’s voice had gone raspy, straining from the feeling his own fingers were invoking. “Then… we’re reenacting the night before our battle with Thalek.”

Ahh, that was another treasured memory - Thalek had been a vicious general of the Galra Empire who was trying to take Emperor when both Lotor and Zarkon had fallen, the night before the final battle, the two of them had been so keyed up and ended up in each others arms all night. Keith had been especially wild - riding Lance until he thought he’d come just air from the amount he’d already come.

Lance grinned. “I like that idea, partner.”

Keith’s brow raised, but then he released a puff of amused breath as he pulled his fingers out and then was grasping Lance’s dick while steadying himself with his opposite hand on Lance’s abdomen. Lance’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt heat suck him in, and God, Keith felt amazing around him - hot and tight, his insides fitting Lance’s dick like a glove. He moaned as Keith just started right up, hips moving in that erotic roll that only they knew.

Lance watched Keith above him, that dark hair in dissarray and becoming messier with each thrust of his hips, sweat beading on pale skin and damn, those eyes, flashing with heat and want as he sought out his pleasure. A pleasure Lance was more than happy to give him. He gripped Keith’s hips tighter, his hips rolling up harder.

The wet sounds that squelched in the room were lewd and it made Lance tingle all over, but more than that - the sounds coming from Keith made his heart pound. Keith wasn’t always loud, but when he was, god, Lance could listen to him for hours.

Except, his body could not last hours. He could feel his climax approaching, his fingers twitching on Keith’s hips as he pumped his own faster. Keith knew it too, reaching down to stroke himself - it was messy and uncoordinated, which meant Keith was mostly seeking pleasure through his ass. Lance couldn’t help but find that extremely hot, even if he did it too - it was still hot to him.

“Gonna cum.” warbled Keith, his hips rocking down harder, hand sloppy with precum.

Lance licked his lips, gripping onto Keith’s hips as he used them as a stablizer and rolled up now, sitting up, the change in position made Keith lose his balance and then Lance straddled one of Keith’s legs, while the other rested on his shoulder. He started into a deeper thrust, knowing his dick was brushing and grinding over Keith’s prostate, Keith’s strokes increased and then he felt that heel dig into his shoulder and Keith was coming, painting his abdomen and chest with white. Lance’s ass clenched as he came, pushing in deep as he coated Keith’s insides with his release.

Keith shivered. “Hot…”

Lance chuckled breathlessly. “Duh.”

Lance found himself being pulled into Keith’s arms, his dick slipping out of him. He was sure Keith was leaking, but it appeared Keith didn’t care as he held him. Well, if Keith didn’t care, then he didn’t either. He wrapped his arms around his partner in not only ‘crime’, but in bed, and snuggled into his chest while Keith ran his fingers through Lance’s hair - petting him. Both of them spent and sated, and before they knew it, they were asleep

[robininthelabyrinth]

Summer in the City - Chapter 3

Fic: Summer in the City - Chapter 3 (AO3 Link) Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Mick Rory/Barry Allen

Summary: Barry Allen is a good CSI, but this whole stupid Heatwave serial killer thing is just killing him.

Or, you know, people around him.

Luckily for him, he’s always got Mick to complain to…

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

"I'm starting to think you're cheating on me with another pizza place, you call so late," Mick chuckles.

Barry smiles, phone tucked into the crook of his neck. "My job keeps me busy," he replies. "I wasn't sure you'd still be open."

"For you, I stay open."

Barry snickers. "Send me something I'd like, then," he says, suddenly feeling spontaneous.

"Not the usual?"

"Nah. I trust you."

"You're a trusting type of guy - and also a jerk, since you've given me no time to prep anything."

"Sorry," Barry laughs. "I promise to order the same tomorrow, how's that? Tonight just get me something fast."

"I'm holding you to that. Delivery'll be in twenty."

"You're the best. No desserts this time!"

"You're too skinny."

"You've never even met me!"

"You sound too skinny. Are you telling me you're not skinny?"

"Well, no," Barry concedes. He's not underweight, but he is, admittedly, a little skinny. "I just wouldn't say too skinny..."

"I bet," Mick says smugly. "Dessert tomorrow, then."

"Something with fruit involved, at least?"

"Can do."

"Thanks, Mick," Barry says, then hesitates. On one hand, he doesn't want to make this weird. On the other, he's been thinking it for a while. Might as well. "Is it sad that talking to you is a highlight of my day?"

"Not any sadder than the fact that talking to you's a highlight of mine," Mick replies immediately. "We're both very sad; just accept it."

Barry smiles. Mick's the best. "Good to hear. I'd better hang up - I'm going to eat then go straight to sleep, since I've got a busy day tomorrow."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, interviews. We're following up on some things with some of the big labs in the city: Palmer Tech in the morning, then STAR Labs in the afternoon. Ramon Foundation tomorrow unless something comes up. Can't give you details, of course..."

"Of course. Have fun on your busy day, Barry."

Barry really likes hearing Mick say his name.

The food that shows up ends up not even being pizza, which Barry fully expected, but a medium-cooked ribeye with béarnaise sauce and some asparagus. One of the stalks looks like it's been nibbled on, like Mick grabbed the steak off of someone else's plate, but that's silly. Barry's sure Mick just grabbed whatever was available.

Honestly, he hadn't even remembered that this place did non-pizza stuff. They must have transitioned over to regular Italian as well.

It's delicious, as usual, which he reports to Mick with a smile (he vaguely thinks he hears someone yowling about having their plate stolen out from under them because someone can't man up about their goddamn crush, but Mick assures him it’s just the radio), and he sleeps well but still manages to wake up to his fourth alarm, so he even makes it to the front door of Palmer Tech on time.

Barry's not sure how he feels about Palmer Tech. The guy in charge of it - Raymond Palmer - was a player in Starling City politics and business for a while, which made everyone wonder why he was opening a branch in Central. The more generous said it was a natural expansion, taking advantage of the generous state interest in funding laboratories and scientific development generally; the less generous whispered about the corruption of the business class in Starling - that awful earthquake - and the slender gap left in the Families' supply of good money laundering operations after Snart had started his little meta crusade against them.

From what Barry's seen of his interviews, Ray Palmer seems like a pretty decent, upstanding guy, but Barry's more cynical side points out that the guy thinks of himself as an inventor - even humanitarian - first, businessman second, and that doesn't tally with his business' recent ruthless rise in market share, so either Ray Palmer has a hidden cold streak or he's got a second in command that's the real head of the business, someone with a real killer instinct.

"Barry, you're on time," Joe says, smile firmly affixed onto his face and on Eddie's. "Great. We're just waiting to see Mr. Palmer himself."

"What, personally?" Barry asks, frowning. "He's coming all the way from Starling?"

"Already arrived. Be nice, okay? We'll talk with him a few minutes and move on to the serious questions once he's assured us he had no idea what was going on, there'll be serious inquiries, the usual crap."

"Got it," Barry says. "Morning, Eddie."

"Good morning," Eddie says, looking tired. Then again, he recently got moved high enough up that he gave the media announcement this morning - the regular update on the Heatwave case, i.e. “Nothing yet but we’re working on it” - and he looks like he's been savaged by a bunch of media wildcats. But Iris’ boyfriend still has time to smile warmly at Barry, because he's always been incredibly sympathetic to Barry's plight (once Barry indicated he was getting over it and after one punch-in-the-face incident which Barry totally gets).

Just at that minute, Ray Palmer himself, recognizable from the fact that he's as tall as Barry and from the broad white-toothed smile you could see on all the advertisements, comes through the door, flanked by two blonde women.

"Detectives West, Thawne," he says, hand outstretched, seeming actually pleased to see them, not like he's secretly annoyed by these people trampling all over his lab at all. "I heard you'd called. And this is..?"

"CSI Barry Allen," Barry says, shaking Palmer's hand. "I'm accompanying the detectives today."

Palmer brightens like Barry said something incredibly interesting. "Wow, it's really great to meet you!"

"...really?"

"He watches too many police procedurals," one of the blonde women cuts in smoothly. Her smile is just a bit wicked. "Welcome, all three of you."

"This is Sara Lance," Palmer says. "She's my VP of Operations. And this is Felicity Smoak; she runs our R&D/Tech side."

"You didn't have to bring all the big brass, Mr. Palmer," Joe says. "We told you, we're just following up on the theft that you experienced a few months back."

"Naturally," Palmer says. "And please, call me Ray! I just wanted you to know how seriously we've been taking this issue. Sara and I will be taking you on the tour ourselves."

Everyone's smile gets a little more fixed onto their faces, because that's...great. If by great you mean absolutely awful. It's a careful balance in Central City between investigating with the full power of the city and state behind you, and not pissing off the politicians who count on the political donations and economic stimulus that rich people like Palmer brought with them when they expanded into Central.

Palmer was the politician's second favorite type of rich guy: spends a lot of money in Central building his business, but mostly concerned about politics in Starling and therefore no threat to their positions.

(Their first favorite type of rich guy being the kind that is willing to give them personally a lot of money.)

"We're delighted to have you as guides," Eddie says, even managing to sound partially sincere. "Thank you for taking the time. Ms. Smoak, you won't be joining us?"

"No, I just came here to see - uh, the investigation. How the investigation was. Was going! I'm R&D, you know, so I care a lot about theft. I mean, about investigations! Investigations into theft. Also in general. " She covers her flushing cheeks and closes her eyes. "Please pretend that made sense."

"Perfect sense," Barry assures her. "I do it all the time."

She opens her eyes and grins at him. "You're nice!" she exclaims, sounding a bit surprised. "I wouldn't have thought."

"The cops aren't all bad," Barry says, suppressing a smile. "Don't believe everything you see on TV."

“I’m glad we got the nice cops,” Felicity says, grinning at him.

“You have the luck of coming first in the alphabet,” Barry says, giving up and returning her smile. “So you get to go before STAR Labs this afternoon.”

This was true except for the Ramon Foundation, which started in the phone book somewhere after ZZ.

“Thank you, alphabet,” Felicity says with a laugh.

"We’re very thankful indeed," the other woman - Sara Lance, Ray had called her - cuts in smoothly. "Shall we begin our tour?"

Barry can feel the exchange of glances behind his back at the neat, careful people management, and he concurs entirely. Sara's too young to be behind Palmer Tech’s initial rise to prominence, which was mostly based on the sheer creativity of Ray Palmer’s inventions, but Barry would bet dollars to donuts that they've just met the brain behind its recent cutthroat expansionism.

Despite their initial fears, Ray actually proves to know something about the tech side of his business and is able to answer questions, rather than regurgitating a set of talking points crafted by a set of lawyers in a dark room somewhere.

"This is our Dynamite lab," he says. "That's a little joke, you see -"

"Thermodynamics," Barry says with a grin. "That's funny."

"You sure you want to keep up with this CSI stuff?" Ray asks. "We're always looking for good science people."

"And I haven't even pulled out my mad skillz yet," Barry says.

"No one says that anymore," Sara says, looking amused. "Assuming they said it, ever."

"It's definitely a first for a police investigation," Joe says pointedly.

Barry zips it.

Well, he tries. Ray's actually really nice - sure, he gets distracted sometimes and goes on tangents involving the possible uses of a dwarf star alloy, but that's super interesting to Barry's mind.

Just - maybe not that relevant to the investigation.

"So where exactly did you say the - ah - 'heat gun alloy' was?" Joe finally says.

"Over here," Ray says, gesturing at a set of shelves.

"You just let it sit out there?" Eddie says, frowning. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It was only a model," Ray says. "We had eventually intended to make it into a gun, but we hadn't gotten anywhere near that point yet. Honestly, it was really just a lump of metal and some plans to show how it could be shaped to deal with the heat. The design of the alloy was meant to let it go up to as close as humanity has yet reached to absolute hot - which is to say, very, very hot - in a logistical manner, assuming you could fashion some source of energy that could get you the power you'd need to get there. The designs were suggestions on how to strengthen the metal so that it wouldn't melt by itself."

"That’s why the dwarf star alloys!" Barry exclaims. "If you make metal in part out of stuff that's been exposed to stars -"

"There's nothing on earth that should be able to melt it," Ray says, beaming. "Exactly! Are you sure I can't offer you a job?"

"Quite sure," Barry laughs. "But thanks for the offer. Can I examine the area?"

"You're welcome to, but it's been cleaned. And, well, a lab..."

"Industrial strength cleaner," Barry says, nodding. He's not going to find anything. But he'll look.

"While Mr. Allen does that, can you take us to your security system?" Eddie asks. "We'd like to look at the logs of who might have been able to access the alloy over the last few months."

"Sure," Ray says, though he looks longingly over to where Barry is unpacking his kit. "Follow me."

Barry's working by himself when there's a noise from outside. A crash, then barely audible cursing.

It's totally none of Barry's business.

Besides, it's a lab. If he wants to look out a window, he'd have to stand on a table, and that would be super unprofessional.

Naturally, Barry finds himself on his tip-toes on one of the sturdier-looking tables in under a minute.

He'd get down and scrub it off before anyone notices.

There's a guy in the alley outside, big guy, bald, shoulders round with muscle that's apparent under his cloth jacket even from Barry's vantage point. He looks pretty hot, though Barry can't see his face.

He's talking to Felicity Smoak, who seems to have knocked over a trash can and is waving her hands emphatically and bouncing a little on her toes in excitement.

Maybe he's an employee?

But if that's the case, why are they talking in an alleyway instead of indoors? He wouldn't have pegged Felicity as a smoker.

Huh. Weird.

There's a noise from the door and Barry has to scramble to get down from his perch in time to play it casual by the right table.

The table next to the right table. Damnit!

"Oh, good, you're done," Ray says, beaming as he sweeps into the room, luckily not noticing Barry’s unusual placement. Joe looks tired of Ray's sunny optimism already and Eddie's got his thinking face firmly fixed on. "Any chance I can take you all out to eat? I know a great Italian place..."

"Sorry," Joe says, only barely managing sincere. "We can't be seen to be influenced by someone even peripherally involved in an investigation."

"Well, maybe when your investigation is done, then," Ray says.

"We'll review department policy," Joe says, meaning hell no.

Ray and Sara then proceed to bustle them out in a haze of overwhelming good cheer that explains why Joe is looking like he's on the verge of murder. There's nothing like someone being aggressively, cheerfully unhelpful when you've running on three cups of coffee and no sleep.

Felicity's in the lobby, waving goodbye, and as Barry passes her, he notices the faintest smell of smoke lingering on her clothing.

Guess she is a smoker after all.

Though, that mention of Italian has him craving dinner...