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#Joseph William Locke

mikeysgerard · 2 years

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I wanna talk about Joe's last name for a sec because Locke is literally the german word for 'curl' and the fact that Joe's hair is curly makes his last name very fitting in the german language

#this is a weird post lol #actually my sons nickname is Locke because of his own curly hair #his name in germany is literally joe curl #heartstopper #joe locke #Joseph William Locke #man what a very british name i love that about him #heartstopper cast #the german girl wants to pitch in her 5 cent for no damn reason haha #charlie spring

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boomgers · 2 years

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El principio de una amistad puede cambiar una vida… “Heartstopper”

Cuando el adorable Charlie Spring y el fan del rugby Nick Nelson se conocen, pronto descubren que su improbable amistad crece hasta convertirse en un inesperado romance.

Charlie, Nick y sus amigos deben transitar ese camino de descubrimiento y aceptación, ofreciéndose unos a otros la contención que necesitan mientras aprenden a encontrar su ser más auténtico.

Estreno: 22 de abril de 2022 en Netflix.

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Basada en las novelas gráficas de Alice Oseman, la serie cuenta con las actuaciones de Kit Connor, Joe Locke, William Gao, Yasmin Finney, Tobie Donovan, Rhea Norwood, Corinna Brown, Kizzy Edgell, Jenny Walser, Cormac Hyde Corrin, Sebastian Croft, Chetna Pandya, Fisayo Akinade, Georgina Rich, Joseph Balderrama y Olivia Colman.

#Heartstopper #Kit Connor #Joe Locke #William Gao #Yasmin Finney #Tobie Donovan #Rhea Norwood #Corinna Brown #Kizzy Edgell #Jenny Walser #Cormac Hyde Corrin #Sebastian Croft #Chetna Pandya #Fisayo Akinade #Georgina Rich #Joseph Balderrama #Olivia Colman #Series #Netflix

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fandom · 1 year

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Celebrities

Taika Waititi went up +69 this year. Nice.

Queen Elizabeth II

Joseph Quinn

Andrew Garfield

Tom Holland +3

Chris Evans -3

Taika Waititi +69

Oscar Isaac +32

Robert Pattinson +44

Misha Collins -5

Tobey Maguire

Joe Keery

Zendaya +7

Sebastian Stan -10

Jensen Ackles -9

Elon Musk +22

Pedro Pascal -15

Chris Pine

Rhys Darby

Neil Gaiman

Henry Cavill -12

Florence Pugh +20

Maya Hawke

Chris Pratt +12

Will Smith

Alex Hirsch +55

Johnny Depp +24

Kit Connor

Mads Mikkelsen -10

Ewan McGregor +28

Tom Hiddleston -24

Sadie Sink

Hayden Christensen

Dana Terrace

Hailee Steinfeld +29

Timothee Chalamet -11

Joey Batey +59

Matt Smith

Tom Sturridge

Dylan O’Brien +8

Katie McGrath -25

Joe Locke

Finn Wolfhard

Alfred Molina

Keanu Reeves -8

Noah Schnapp

Benedict Cumberbatch -4

Zoë Kravitz

Hugh Dancy -22

David Tennant -21

Elizabeth Olsen -33

Hayao Miyazaki +10

Natalia Dyer

Apo Nattawin

Charlie Cox

Tom Hardy -24

Paul Dano

Jamie Campbell Bower

Mile Phakphum

Jodie Whittaker

Sydney Sweeney

Chris Rock

Chris Hemsworth -22

Alexa Demie

Ryan Reynolds

Nichelle Nichols

Marilyn Monroe -17

Amber Heard

Barry Keoghan

Natalie Portman

Harvey Guillén

Selena Gomez

David Jenkins

Con O’Neill

Christopher Eccleston

Tessa Thompson +15

Simone Ashley

Jonathan Bailey

Jodie Comer +7

Walker Scobell

Bella Hadid -22

Wang Yibo -54

Betty White

Scarlett Johansson -58

Anne Hathaway

Emma Watson -9

Millie Bobby Brown

Jared Padalecki -76

Ana De Armas +3

Xiao Zhan -60

Oliver Stark -23

Bible Wichapas

Prince William

Angelina Jolie

Toby Fox

Jack Black

John Mulaney -84

Michael Sheen -42

Blake Lively

Ryan Guzman

Anya Taylor-Joy -68

The number in italics indicates how many spots a name moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded names weren’t on the list last year.

#year in review #celebrities #tumblr2022

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radiojamming · 6 months

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List of videos about the SS Edmund Fitzgerald

This is a very, very non-exhaustive list, but I think it'd be nice to have these all in one place for easy access. I'll update this list periodically. :D

Audio between the USCG, Arthur M. Anderson, and William Clay Ford on the night of November 10th, 1975

NBC news report on the Edmund Fitzgerald from November 11th, 1975

CBS radio report on the sinking from November 11th, 1975

Great Lakes Shipwreck Society's underwater footage with some of the USCG audio (2010)

GLSS' video on the 1958 launching of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Tom Walton, former Fitzgerald crewmember talking about life on the Fitzgerald in 1963 (2022)

Footage of the Fitzgerald going through the Soo Locks in 1967

Home video reel of the Fitzgerald in the Soo Locks in 1970

University of Wisconsin 59 minute lecture about the storm of November 10th, 1975 (2016)

1994 dive footage

1995 documentary about the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald and the effort to raise the bell from the wreck

Maritime Horrors' YouTube documentary on the Fitzgerald mystery (2021)

Joseph Fulton's music video for Gordon Lightfoot's 'Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald' (2009)

Mariner's Church in Detroit ringing the bell 29 times plus one in memory of Gordon Lightfoot (2023)

CBS' report on Gordon Lightfoot's passing and the extra bell ringing

Arthur M. Anderson giving a memorial master salute on 11/10/2020 in Duluth

Split Rock Lighthouse in Minnesota's memorial lighting (2017)

#edmund fitzgerald #wreck of the edmund fitzgerald

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theoutcastrogue · 10 months

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Folding bowie knives and dirks, 19th century

The terms “folding dirk” and “folding bowie knife” are used, often interchangeably, to refer to large, well-made, usually ornate jack knives of the mid-19th century that were designed primarily as weapons. Strictly speaking, “folding dirk” refers only to such knives that have double-edged “dirk” or dagger blades. “Folding bowie,” the more general term, encompasses larger folding dirks, as well as big folding combat knives with clip-point or spear-point blades.

Folding dirks and bowies were the pocket-carry counterparts of the better-known fixed-blade bowie knives. Bowie knives leapt to national attention in 1827 with the notorious Sandbar Fight involving James Bowie and remained in vogue for about half a century. The folding bowie may have been just as popular as the less costly fixed blade in the 1830s, the enthusiastic early years of the bowie trend. By the 1850s, the big folders were in eclipse. After the Civil War, only small folding dirks were still available.

Almost all folding dirks and bowie knives were made in Sheffield and are over 4 1/2 inches long closed. They are generally slender, and most have a cross-guard integral with the front bolsters. Ornamental appearance was an important consideration in the design of folding dirks and bowies. Consequently, they were made in a wide variety of shapes. Another factor in their diversity of shape is that most were made from circa 1830 to 1860, before mass production and pattern standardization had taken hold in the cutlery industry. Not only are the shapes of the big knives varied but so, too, are their decorations. Their bolsters are almost always ornately embossed.

Though the knives were handmade, their fancy nickel-silver bolsters were mass-produced. Standard designs were stamped out by specialist companies and sold to the makers. Some of the original dies used to stamp these fancy mounts still exist, which helps account for a certain amount of counterfeiting—most of which is inept—and questionable repair work.

Handle materials on folding dirks and bowies are generally of high quality. Stag, ivory and mother-of-pearl are the most often encountered. Horn and tortoise shell are more unusual. We have not observed bone or wood handles on them, but some may exist.

The principal makers of folding dirks and bowies seem to have been Samuel C. Wragg, William and Samuel Butcher, George Wostenholm & Sons, and Robert and Joseph Lingard. Many other Sheffield names are found on the knives as well.

— Roger Baker and Bernard Levine, Blade's Guide to Knives & Their Values (Krause Publications, 2009) (abridged)

Descriptions:

A FOLDING BOWIE KNIFE FOR THE AMERICAN MARKET, JOSEPH HOLMES, CIRCA 1870, with robust folding locking blade formed with a clipped-back point, signed ‘Jph Holmes Warranted Cutlery’ at the ricasso, German silver cross-piece (one quillon face missing), German silver pommel cast with foliage and a horse on each face, milled copper alloy fillets, mother-of-pearl scales and vacant German silver escutcheon, 15.3 cm (closed)

A LINGARD PATENT SPRING-KNIFE, CIRCA 1860, with tapering blade retaining some stamped inscription including ‘February 9th 1850’, ricasso stamped ‘Lingard, Peacroft Sheffield, secondary blade stamped en suite, German silver fillets, mother-of-pearl scales each retained by five rivets, and embossed German silver cross-guard and pommel each decorated with scrolls and foliage, in its leather scabbard with belt loop, 13.5 cm (closed)

A FOLDING LOCK KNIFE FOR THE AMERICAN MARKET, SIMPSON, CIRCA 1860-70, with double-edged folding sprung locking blade struck ‘Simpson’ at the forte, German silver cross-piece cast with scrolls in low relief, German silver horsehead pommel seated on a cannon, milled copper allot fillets, and natural staghorn scales with German silver release stud locked by a small sliding bolt, 15.5 cm closed

A FOLDING DIRK FOR THE AMERICAN MARKET, SHEFFIELD, LATE 19TH CENTURY, with folding locking blade stamped ‘S*H Sheffield’ at the ricasso, German silver pivoting cross-piece, hardwood scales inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and German silver pommel with Federal eagle and shield, 11.0 cm, blade

A HORSEHEAD LOCKBACK SHEFFIELD FOLDING DIRK, 9" Overall open, 4" blade “HANCOCK / & / SONS / SHEFFIELD”, blade has stamped cipher ”BEST QUALITY” horn slab grips, vacant German silver escutcheon. CONDITION: good to very good overall, blade is gray w/ sharpening, 1.5" German silver floral cross guard, horse head pommel worn through at snout w/ solder exposed. (02-15586/JS).

A LOCK KNIFE, MOORE, PROBABLY SHEFFIELD, LATE 19TH CENTURY AND TWO FURTHER LOCK KNIVES, the first with folding locking blade, signed rectangular ricasso, two-piece German silver guard, natural staghorn scales over brass fillets, and vacant German silver escutcheon; the second and third of similar form, with German silver guards and pommels each cast with scrolling foliage in low relief, and polished horn scales, the first: 13.2 cm (closed) (3)

James Rodgers & Sons Folding Dirk with Pearl Grip Panels and Relief German Silver Mountings 4 3/8-inch spearpoint locking blade, with "V[crown]R/James/Rodgers/Sheffield" on ricasso. Overall length when opened, 9 3/8-inches. Relief acanthus leaf and shell German silver mountings, the mother-of-pearl grip panels with oval escutcheon inlay on one side. Late 19th century. Very good to fine. Scattered pitting on steel and sharpening marks, gray patina to tang. Pearl with minor chipping. 4/20/07 RLW #297E

A 19th century folding Bowie type knife, 9¾” open, the 4½” clipped back blade etched on one side with panel of scrolling foliage, and on the other side with a bunch of grapes and vines (evidently added later), the base of the blade stamped “John B. Hobson” (has been pitted and cleaned); with German silver crosspiece and pommel, the crosspiece embossed with foliate scrolls, pommel with flutes, vines and bunches of grapes; bone sideplates, one side inset with openwork white metal panel, the other side scratched “1859 Tesmaker” (or Tes Maker?). Good Condition (small crack in one sideplate). Plate 5

A MID-VICTORIAN FOLDING DIRK OR BOWIE KNIFE BY W RODGERS, CIRCA 1850, 11cm flattened diamond section blade stamped W RODGERS CELEBRATED CUTLERY, foliate embossed white metal crossguard, riveted two-piece natural stag horn grips, the white metal pommel decorated with flowers and foliage. This is an earlier and rarer W Rodgers and not to be confused with the later William Rodgers

#folding knife #dirk #bowie knife #sheffield #england #tools of the trade #how to stab #terminology

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buntsukim · 29 days

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speaking of stuff i did in 2022... i bring you my (now abandoned but might actuslly be rebooted maybe) passion project...

e3 tapes

e3 tapes was an oc story i had that was honestly like. pretty nice looking back on it.

i dont know how much art of it was archived but i know most of the story and art is on my toyhouse (though the folder is now private)

either way... i bring you the story and some art of the characters.

first off- art.

this one was drawn for pride month. contains basically all the important characters except for angie.

this is E3 and Angie. theyre not protagonists but they are basically the most important characters for the story.

these are the protagonist of a side story titled "wiwi" yes its dumb. daves last name was actually changed to roberts at some point since i didnt want ppl to think of fnaf

and this is vannesa. the ACTUAL protagonist of the story, though she would be more of a player character than anything.

now for the content of the story. it was called e3 tapes bc it was inspired by analog horror... i mean it kinda was analog horror but i didnt like it at some point.

these were all on a folder titled "tapes". there is missing content.

thats about all the art i managed to find. now onto the story

copy pasted directly:

E3 johnson created a toy company with the help of his father, lucas.

there were 2 buildings for the company, one located in the city, managed by lucas, and one located in the forest, managed by E3.

a kid went missing on the L building, angie harris, choked to death by lucas, and followed by his disappearance.

the 3 building was destroyed by E3 after the toys there turned to be dangerous for anything that interacts with them. the first toy that showed signs for this was emii, a plush toy whose limbs could be stretched.

E3 tried to destroy the toys with an ax but it was too dangerous, so he trapped them underground inside the locked building with the help of his assistant, amy.

E3 contacted joseph bossman for help investigating the missing child, and his father. joseph headed to the L building to find out what happened.

angie asked joseph for help, but joseph refused and later told E3 about the murders, and left the whole thing behind him, cutting connections with E3. but angie wasn't done with joseph, as they later led him to them and possessed him.

E3 decided to attempt to help the children and find his father, he went missing shortly after.

years later, vanessa williams found an old newspaper about E3's company and a picture of her deceased father, her, her brother, and E3 from when she was very young, and decided to find the 3 building.

in the 3 building she finds a vhs by, still "alive", E3, who claims he needs help to destroy every toy in the location.

meanwhile, amanda watson, dave roberts and davis williams all hang out at the cafe amanda works at.

theyve been hanging out at the A cafe every friday. since it's located at a very empty location, and there's barely any customers.

theyre all part of a cult named wiwi. and sadly now have to deal with a possessed joseph coming their way.

AND THATS THE WHOLE THING I MANAGED TO FIND OF THIS

i KNOW theres more bc i remember it but i could not find any of it on my google drive, refsheet, or toyhouse. wich is where i kept this on the first place.

i dont know how to feel about it. im not as passionate as i was about it obviously but rebooting it could be a fun project for me. dunno.

#mine #cade talks #m art #well... old art. but u understand #e3 tapes #that was the name #indeed #sorry for yapping #going down memory laneee

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thiswasinevitableid · 1 year

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Beasts (Sternclay)

Werebear wasn't a big winner in the polls, but I wrote some as a treat. It's NSFW, and there is some mention of breeding talk.

Joseph doesn’t believe in luck.

Things happen for reasons varying from unfair to understandable. They have to. Because if they don’t, then his fathers sudden death and his sisters each losing their jobs two days before Joseph was supposed to set sail with a team of like-minded researchers for the farthest reaches of American West is all to do with unhappy chance and there’s nothing he can do to fix it or keep it from happening again.

Well, his dad can’t die a second time, but his mom hasn’t been well since his death. With Lily and Vivian frantically searching for work, it falls to Joseph to make enough in the meantime to keep everyone housed and healthy.

So, no, stepping onto the Hayes Estate doesn’t make him feel lucky, no matter how many rare creatures he’ll encounter. He got here by his own skill and knowledge, not good luck. Which means all he has to do to help his family is not fuck up.

Lord William Hayes spends the better part of an hour showing him around the enclosed aviary, small aquarium, and stables. Joseph laughs in delight at the fur bearing trout and offers the pair cactus cats his hand to investigate, all the while taking notes on Haye’s instructions for their care. The lord and his servants had been managing on their own at first, but the collection is so large he needs a cryptid expert on staff to ensure it remains the best in the country.

Joseph is deep in a bulleted list of cryptid sleep habits when they come to a gilded, double locked door.

“This is the hall of great beasts. There’s only three right now but they are the pinnacle of my menagerie.” Hayes undoes the locks and ushers him into a white marble room with cavernous ceilings. There are three enclosures: two large ones on the east and west walls, and a third, smaller one on the north wall. The eastern one is full of plant life, lush and every shade of green, and the western one is filled with smooth, black stones and a trickling creek. And the smaller one is a square of silver bars on a platform, with a door leading back into an equally small, covered room. It contains a large, fur-covered object that Joseph can’t identify.

Hayes blows a silver whistle and the cages on either side of them rustle. In the forested cage, a creature with horns and a woman’s face appears, gold hair ties messily atop her head. In the stone-filled one, a silvery, serpentine figure wriggles out from a back portion of the cage.

The fur covered lump in the small cage raises its head, looking at them only a second before returning its chin to its paws.

“That…that’s a werebear. You have a werebear, a leshen, and a dragon.”

“A pygmy dragon, but yes.”

Joseph chooses his words carefully, “I wasn’t aware anyone had these beings. It’s still being debated whether it’s legal to hold them captive at all.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, because they’re all human to a significant degree. They talk and think in the exact way you or I do.”

“Yet they’re monsters all the same. And monsters are the purview of collectors such as myself. I trust their care will not be an issue for you?”

His conscience screams in protest as it’s crushed beneath the images of his mother rationing out her medication and Lily swearing that if this doesn’t pan out she’s getting a job in a cloth factory to tide them over.

“No, sir, not at all.”

He’s escorted from the room and spends the rest of his day being given the appropriate keys and moving his things into the small bedroom in the servants wing that’s his for the time being. Worry keeps him from sleeping for the bulk of the night, but he rises at when the clock chimes six.

The “great beasts” are the last on his list of morning rounds, and when he arrives only the werebear is within view. And that’s because his cage has no hiding place.

Joseph starts with the Leshen, calling out “hello?” as he removes her food tray through a slot. When there’s no reply, he adds, “I’m Joseph Stern. I feel like we ought to have an actual introduction instead of Lord Hayes just…showing you to me. He didn’t even tell me your name.”

“Dani.” The voice comes from the ground across from him, and the Leshen peers out of a shrub, “and put your hand back. I’m not going to shake it. No offense.”

He places his hand back in his pocket, “None taken. It’s nice to meet you, Dani. Oh, here” he slides the new, covered tray through, “breakfast.”

“Porridge or pemmican?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I didn’t look.”

She waves him away and he goes, peeking under the next tray to see a bowl of porridge. This one is for the dragon, who is laying on his back in his anteroom, morning sun glinting on his scales.

“Good morning-”

“Indrid” he lilts, not looking Joseph’s way, “My name is Indrid. I see the future, which means I will always be a little bit ahead of the conversation. And no, I cannot tell you how to make money or what date you will die.”

“That’s….well, that’s fascinating, honestly, but I’m not planning on asking anything like that. I’m-”

“-Joseph Stern” The dragon rolls over and stretches, then cocks his head, “a true cryptozoologist. Interesting. We had a bet going he’d hire a prison warden.”

Joseph does his best not to take that personally as Indrid prowls to the front of his enclosure. His scales are not just silver; they’re dotted with black on the underside and there are streaks of red on his wings, which matches the glowing red of his eyes. When the dragon passes him the empty tray through the open slot, the eyes stay on his face the whole time.

“Do you like Haye’s collection?”

Joseph meets his eyes, “So far I find it raises some interesting questions.”

The answer seems to satisfy the dragon, who takes the offered tray with a mild, “thank you” and returns to his sunny spot.

In the cage, the werebear is so still Joseph is afraid he’s dead. Then there’s a long, drawn out huff and a wiggle of dark brown ears.

“You’ve probably heard me introduce myself so I’ll skip that. What’s your name?”

There’s no reply. Joseph decides two out of three is a good start. When he opens the food slot to retrieve an untouched bowl of porridge, a large back paw kicks out, sending the contents through the gaps in the bars and all down his dress shirt.

“Shit!” He tries to wipe it off and finds it horrifically sticky. There’s a muffled laugh from Dani’s cage, and Indrid’s snout is now poking around the side of the anteroom.

“Barclay, such beastly behavior.” He snickers and then disappears. Joseph takes three, deep breaths, sets the new food through the slot, and goes to change his shirt.

His interactions with the trio go much the same way for the next four and a half days. On the evening by the fifth day, he finds Barclay still hasn’t eaten anything. According to Indrid he hasn’t eaten in over a week.

“He thinks that whatever is keeping him in his bear form is in the food. I have assured him this is not the case, as I see no future where his starvation leads to him becoming human again. But it is his choice.” Indrid’s tail flicks in an unfamiliar way as he clicks the claws of his hands together. The dragon is worried

It’s that exchange, plus the raging headache he has from Hayes overwatering his hydra plant to the point it emitted distress vibrations, that drives his next decision.

“Barclay, please, you really need to eat something. A human can go ten days without food before there starts being a real issue and I don’t know how that translates to werebears. So please eat something.”

The werebear just stares at him from where he’s sitting against the other wall of bars.

“If you don’t eat soon, I am coming in there and feeding it to you myself.”

In one leap, the monster is to him, claws reaching through the bars and yanking him forward by his waistcoat. Joseph’s face slams into the bars, the metal all that keeps him safe as Barclay snarls, “Try it, pretty boy. Fucking try it and I’ll make it so all you eat your dinner through a straw for the rest of your fucking life.”

He lets go and Joseph drops to the tiled floor. The room is dead silent as Barclay stalks into his cramped anteroom. It’s only when Joseph hurries out, heart pounding for more reasons than fear, that he hears Dani say, “nicely done.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes him until Sunday to get what he needs for his new plan. He also has to get up at four, but it’s nice to watch the sun come up through the little kitchen window. When he brings breakfast to the trio this time, he needs a dinner cart to get it there.

He starts with Dani, sliding a bowl of grain salad and tray of flatbread into the cage. It’s when he slides in a tiny side-bowl that she actually appears.

“Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”

“Haye’s files said you’re from a region where dill and spiced olive oil sauces are a favorite of Leshen cooks.”

“Really?”

“Well, his notes said where you were found. I figured it out from there.”

She picks up the meal, “Thanks, Stern.”

He smiles and pushes the cart over to Indrid, whose hands are flapping before he even tells him what he has.

“Fruit! Oh where on earth did you find Star Melon?”

“Mr. Newton had a few in his garden. Which is weird, since I can’t imagine they’re easy to grow here.”

The dragon goes golden around his cheeks, “No, they are native to the hills near Sylvain. I haven’t had one in a long time.”

Stern’s heart tightens, scolding him even as he passes the plate into the cage. Dani has been here a year, Indrid nine months, and Barclay a little over one. And all that time no one bothered to feed them anything other than gluey porridge and stale pemmican.

He approaches Barclay’s cage and uncovers the final plate. Steam curls up from a breakfast pie, one that’s barely in the cage before Barclay is picking it up and staring at it. Then he sniffs it an murmurs, “coriander” another sniff, “cinnamon” and another, “cheese?”

“The recipe said it’d make the end result richer. I wasn’t sure what food you might like best or be…missing. So I went with something that would be filling.”

Barclay picks up the wooden fork and knife Joseph was allowed to include, cutting carefully into the pie and studying his forkfull before taking a bite. After two more he swallows and says, “Crust is kinda tough.” It doesn’t feel like an insult. More like Barclay is solving a puzzle.

“I’m not much of a baker.”

“Don’t work it so long next time.” He sits down, cross-legged, and sets the plate in his lap, “I’m not gonna thank you for doing the bare fucking minimum for us. But” he takes another bite and there’s a glimpse of a smile, “this is still good.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“If you want such accommodations you will have to demonstrate you can behave.”

This is what Hayes told Barclay on his first day, when he’d asked why his prison was so small compared to the other. He hasn’t been able to do it; he’s glad Indrid and Dani have been smart enough to work out how to play the kept beast to get views of the sky, bigger anterooms, some semblance of privacy. But he can’t manage it. He spent his whole adult life afraid of being no better than a beast. He won’t give Hayes the satisfaction of treating him like one (more than he already does).

A clock in some far wing of the house tells him it’s noon and he sighs, deciding to circle his cage before taking another nap. Lunch time is lonely these days; it’s spring, and his friends are taking advantage of the sunshine in their anterooms. Dani’s horns are sprouting lime green flowers and Indrid’s scales are brighter, and Barclay can feel his winter coat changing to the rich auburn of the rest of the year.

When his friends aren’t enjoying the sunshine, they’re sitting against the walls of their enclosures in close conversation with a human. For Indrid, it’s often the gardener who visits. Duck is kind and sociable, makes his disdain for their situation clear, and sneaks them produce from his garden on the rare occasions he can hide it under his coat. And Barclay’s certain that if the room was unlocked at night, Duck might stay there until dawn talking with Indrid.

For her part, Dani’s caught the eye of a human magician. Apparently she’d been performing at a party shortly after Dani was captured, and insisted on getting herself ready in the room of great beasts. Hayes must have enjoyed her act, for she performs at his parties at least once a month, and more than once has snuck in to visit Dani.

There are no humans visiting today, and his friends are out of sight. So there’s no one to trade annoyed glances with when Stern appears, notebook in hand and a lunch pail from the town grocer in the other. Their keeper gives him a pleasant hello, then sits down on one of the many benches installed for people to gawk at their suffering–the one nearest Barclay, lucky him–and opens his lunch. He’s never eaten in here before, and Barclay watches in spite of himself, curious as to what he’s brought. You can learn a lot about a guy by his meals.

A sandwich appears, as does a slice of cake and a small, green salad. It’s the sandwich that catches his attention, and he noses at the bars trying to work out what’s in it.

“Hmm, that’s no good.” Stern reaches into the pail and produces a second, wrapped sandwich, “I accidentally ordered two. I’m not hungry enough for that and while these are delicious, they don’t keep.” He turns his blue eyes on Barclay, “do you want one? It’s smoked turkey with cranberry preserves.”

“Yes. Please.” He waits by the bars as Stern moves his things to sit on the platform. The sandwich has been pressed, so it passes between the bars and Barclay rips the paper away and takes a bite, “fuck that’s nice.”

“Right? I know I should be saving money but sometimes I just want someone who knows what they’re doing to make me something incredible.”

“Hayes not paying you enough?” He polishes off the first half and eats the second one in two bites.

“The opposite. But there are a lot of expenses at home and my father….well, he was in debt when he died and none of us knew. I thought he was a cautious man. Or at least one who understood to only accept loans with low interest. But I guess not.” Joseph’s fork prods a lettuce leaf. His voice is so tired Barclay feels something dangerously close to sympathy.

“You’re in Starbrook, right?”

Joseph nods.

“You ever get hard up, you tell either the butcher or the dairy that Barclay Cobb knows you, they’ll give you a nice discount.”

“That’s…that’s incredibly generous. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Barclay grumbles, brushing off his hands.

Joseph nudges the napkin with the cake closer, “Do you want half? It’s lemon cream.”

“I wanna say no but I really, really do.”

The human cuts the slice perfectly down the middle. He’s probably great help in the kitchen. Especially if he’s wearing an apron and nothing else.

Barclay has eyes; Joseph Stern is gorgeous, and he’s fallen asleep more than a few nights imagining how satisfying it would be to hold him down and ruin his put-together clothes and make him beg to be fucked like a bitch in heat.

But sitting next to him now, studying the lines already forming at the corners of his eyes, smelling his aftershave, is more intense than those fantasies have ever been. Barclay wants to reach out a claw and trace it down his neck, see if he sighs or shies away.

He expects Joseph to leave once he divvies up the food, but instead the human stays and just talks with him, asking him questions about home, about his family, and smiling whenever one of Barclay’s stories wanders off into a detailed description of a meal.

When the clock tells them an hour is gone, Joseph sighs and stands, “I have to go check on the Jackalopes. One of them keeps burrowing out and getting into the liquor and I cannot work out how. But, um” he runs a hand over his hair, “I really enjoyed having lunch with you. If you ever want me to join you again, just let me know.”

Barclay says he will, then settles down for a nap. It’s only as he’s drifting off that it occurs to him that Joseph Stern is not careless enough to “accidentally” order two sandwiches.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

A spring storm patters on his umbrella as Joseph waits for Duck to open the cottage door. The gardener was initially wary of him, and would greet him with only a nod and a “need anything, sir?”

Then Joseph had caught him sneaking letters from Aubrey into Dani. After he said nothing and instead announced loudly “Oops, I forgot to check the tree octopus enclosure,” Duck actually began talking with him.

The gardener's frequent lunches seated next to Indrid, talking in hushed tones, makes Joseph feel less weird about his own, now daily, meals with Barclay.

The cottage door opens and Duck is immediately bending down to scoop up a ball of orange fluff.

“No ma’am, you ain’t going out there. We got bluebirds nesting in the hedge and you ain’t about to make a dinner of ‘em.” He holds the door with his shoulder, “come on in, Joe.”

Once they’re seated by the stove, Joseph explains, “I’m hoping you have a few books I could borrow. I’ve been bringing them for Barclay and the others to read and I’m running out of things to loan.”

“Happy to see what I have, but ain’t there a way to get ‘em stuff from Haye’s library?”

“His books are mainly dense, historical ones he keeps around to look smart. Or they’re the kind of books that portray cryptids as, well, as the kind of things you get to keep in cages. I only convinced him to let me give them books in the first place by saying how impressed his guests would be if his ‘beasts’ could converse on a variety of topics.”

Duck frowns, shakes his head, “I ain’t sure how you’re managing it, Joe. Acting for even a second like you believe that bullshit. I’d have quit after a day if they made me treat people—I meant that literally, Barclay’s just some guy most of the time–that way.”

“I know. But if I leave I’m afraid Hayes will bring in someone who sees them how he does.” He runs his finger over the rim of his water glass, “And I think I worked out why Barclay can’t go back to being human. It’s the bars; they’re made of silver from a specific region, one most were-beasts historically won’t go to, even under desperate circumstances. I think that silver has a special property that forces them to remain in their beast form.”

“Seems as likely as anything else at this point.”

“Hayes all but confirmed it when I asked if he ever thought of making a new cage out of something else; silver isn’t that strong of a metal. He acted like I’d suggested he eat his pistol.”

“Maybe we could bust it open ourselves if it ain’t that strong?”

“I mean, it’s still a very solid cage. And even if we got him out, Dani and Indrid’s cages are made of very different materials. We need a way to get them all out at once. Ideally one that doesn’t lead them immediately back to us.”

Duck thinks a moment, then sighs, “Aubrey could rig us something to blow all three cages open, but I’ve still got nothin’ on that second part. If all it meant was I got chucked in jail, might be worth it to know ‘Drid was okay. But I can’t lie for shit and Hayes knows that; might get the truth outta me and ‘Drid would be right back in a goddamn cage.”

Joseph thinks of Barclay, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, bars keeping them from touching, telling him how much he misses home.

“We’ll get them out, Duck. We just have to be patient a little longer.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------

It’s just the spring.

This is Barclay’s new mantra, one he’s used for the last two weeks and the one he uses as Joseph steps into the room.

It’s just the spring that’s making him want to growl and yell until Joseph comes and sleeps next to his cage.

It’s just the spring that’s making him imagine taking Joseph home, the pair of them sprucing it up into the perfect little den for two.

It’s just the spring telling him that he needed to have his dick inside Joseph yesterday and if he waits much longer he might die from how badly he wants to fuck him.

“Barclay? I brought you something.” The human holds out a small, square tin, “Some softening oil for your coat. Duck helped me find a few of the plants. I wanted to surprise you, so I used a recipe from a book by another werebear and I hope it’s the right one.”

Barclay catches the tin when it drops through the food slot. Opening it, he gasps, “Holy fuck, it’s just like the stuff I have at home. Thanks, Joseph.”

“You’re very welcome.”

This oil calls for stinging nettle leaves, boiled down. Joseph’s forearms sport several small, irritated red scratches.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Barclay murmurs.

“I wanted to.” Joseph slips his hand through the bars, touching his arm, “I want to take care of you.”

Barclay whines, low in his throat, and busies himself oiling his fur to stop from thinking about what a good mate Joseph would be. That’s a pointless, heartbreaking train of thought, and also the human part of him can never tell if it’s creepy or not.

They talk as he grooms, mostly about the mystery novel Joseph lent him. When no amount of twisting around lets him reach a patch of his back, the human says, “Want some help?”

“Please.” He passes the tin and rests his back against the bars. He wonders how Joseph will manage to get it deep enough without claws when the teeth of a comb lightly and pleasantly scratch his skin.

“I brought it from home, just in case.”

Barclay smiles and closes his eyes, relaxing into the meticulous, tender touches. Soon he’s purring and Joseph is more petting him than anything else.

“You don’t have to tell me but….how did you end up here. You told me you were careful not to show your were-form around strangers.” A hand reaches up and rubs below his right ear.

“It was after Indrid got caught. He’d gone looking for Dani, and Hayes fucking ambushed him when he was asleep and couldn’t see it coming. He got a letter to us through Duck, and me and a few others decided to break them both out. It’s a fuck of a lot easier to chase of guards when you’re a werebear. Then it all went to hell and it was either get caught myself or watch everyone I love end up in here or in a human jail. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“My brave, beautiful beast.” Joseph whispers.

It turns out Barclay doesn’t hate that word, Not when Joseph says it like that.

He shifts on the floor of the cage so he and the human are facing each other. Joseph reaches his other hand between the bars without a trace of fear and rests them both on Barclay’s cheeks.

“You are getting out of here. Come hell or high water, I will get you out. I promise.”

Barclay doesn’t have much hope these days. But he closes his eyes and rests his hands atop Joseph’s, and allows himself a glimmer of it.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Hayes is celebrating spring by inviting all his wealthy friends to enjoy his collection, with the bulk of the evening being spent in the Hall of Great Beasts. Joseph’s been dreading it ever since it was announced, and unfortunately it’s been just as trying a night as he feared.

The guests ask him questions with little interest in the answers, and not a single one of them seems to have any issue with talking about the trio like they’re mindless, bloodthirsty monsters. Dani is having the most luck staying out of sight in her trees, while Indrid is forced to tell the fortunes of whoever asks. Barclay is trying to sleep through it, but people keep poking their canes through the bars to pester him. Or they were, until Joseph told them the next person he caught doing that would be hit over the head with the offending item.

Aubrey is performing, and her show–along with the exhausted looks he trades with Duck, who’s been press-ganged into acting as a waiter–are the highlights of the night. Joseph is watching her produce flaming scarves from her coat, helping himself to a smoked salmon toast and wondering if he can sneak one into Barclay’s cage when there’s a commotion by Dani’s enclosure.

Afraid she might be hurt or sick, he hurries over. He finds the Leshen at the very top of her cage, snarling down at Hayes and another man who is leering at her.

“Mr. Stern, good, go do your job and get her down from there.” Hayes points into the branches.

“Why?” He looks up at his friend, who frantically shakes her head.

“Because she’ll be moving from my house this evening and joining Mr. Colliers collection.”

There’s a trill of alarm from Indrid, and Barclay is on his feet in his cage, growling loud enough to shake the chandeliers.

Joseph’s blood turns glacial, “No, she won’t. Because it’s illegal to sell humanoid cryptids, even if the jury is still out on owning them.”

“Well then, we’ll just consider this a gift.” Hayes winks at Collier.

Joseph draws himself up to his full height, “As their keeper, I absolutely cannot allow this. Dani isn’t a thing to be sold.” He realizes how that sounds and adds, “especially not to someone who’s done nothing to convince me he can care for her.”

Collier rolls his eyes, “Alright. Stern, was it? How much do you want?”

“There is no amount of money you could offer to get me to agree to this.” He digs his nails into his palms. In the corner of his eye, he watches Barclay paw the ground of his cage.

“Surely these beasts aren’t that important to you. After all, William can always get more.”

He takes a deep breath and then calmly replies, “These ‘beasts’ are some of the kindest, intelligent, and caring people I’ve ever met. And they are far more human than an ignorant, greedy, useless, and self-entitled piece of shit like you.”

Collier's fist connects with his face and he drops to the ground. As he’s trying to get his feet under him, confident in his willingness and ability to strangle a man with his own cravat, there’s a world-splitting crack from the center of the room.

The crowd parts in screaming waves as Barclay barrels across the tiles. There’s something wild and unfamiliar in his expression, but Joseph doesn’t get to examine it before he rears up on his hind legs and smashes the lock on Dani’s cage. In the commotion, Joseph spots Duck and Aubrey converging on Indrid’s enclosure.

Barclay whirls on Collier and Hayes, roaring in their faces.

Hayes stumbles back, shouting “Stern, for god's sake if you don’t do your job I will beat you black and blue myself.”

Barclay lunges forward, grabbing both men and hurling them out into the hallway, snapping his jaws at anyone who comes near him. Then he lowers his gaze directly onto Joseph, and he understands.

There's feral werebear growling down at him.

“Barclay? Do you know who I am?”

The werebear nods. Then he reaches down and hauls Joseph into his arms, manhandling him onto his back and barking, “hold on.”

Joseph obeys, breath leaving him as Barclay takes off in huge, loping strides. He’s faster than any horse Hayes could send after them, and the manor, town, and countryside pass Joseph at a staggering speed. It must be close to an hour before he slows, strides still quick and determined. An hour after that he comes to a stop at the base of a rocky hillside covered with moss.

The werebear approaches a patch of greenery and pulls it aside with his paw, revealing a wooden door. Opening that reveals a homey cave; there’s a pile of blankets and furs in one corner, a larder in another, and books stacked next to a lantern on a low table. Joseph eases himself off Barclay’s back and looks around as the werebear manages to light the lantern, then close and lock the door.

Joseph reads the spines on the books “This is your safehouse, isn’t it? For if you get feral and have to hide?”

“Or there’s hunters.” Barclay stacks several, thick furs on the floor, then spreads a blanket over them. Then he points a claw at the make-shift bed, “lay down.”

“I appreciate the bed, big guy.” He sits down, “but there’s no way I can sleep after all that excitement.”

Barclay lowers to all fours and pads forward, nosing at Joseph's shoulder, “You won’t be.”

“I, um, I’m not sure what you mean.” He watches claws inch towards his hips, goosebumps rising on his skin as hot breath caresses his neck.

The werebear lifts his head, smiling at him with eyes that remain wilder than Joseph’s ever seen them, “You’re my mate.”

Every inch of him blushes at the word, “Why do you say that?”

“You take care of me. Clean my fur. Bring me dinner.” He brushes his snout against Joseph’s nose, “didn’t leave even though you hated it there.”

“I wasn’t going to abandon any of you. But you’re right” he strokes Barclay’s cheek, “part of why I stayed was because I couldn’t stand the thought of getting away from there without you coming too.”

Barclay growls, pleased, at the contact, “Gonna make sure you can’t leave me now either.”

“How?” He rubs one rounded ear playfully, “I don’t see any rope.”

“Don’t need it.” Barclay sits back on his heels, pawing at his crotch. When he moves his hand, Joseph goes cross-eyed staring at a cock that, while short and vaguely human in shape, is bigger around than both his fists put together. If he ends up on it, he will absolutely be there until Barclay decides he’s done with him. But that’s not the most salient issue right now.

He rests a hand on a furry thigh, “Barclay, I’m flattered that a gorgeous, incredible beast like you wants me for his mate. And it’s not as if I haven’t thought of you, um, having your way with me before.” It’s the first time he’s admitted it out loud, and at his shy expression Barclay leans down and snuffles his face reassuringly. He continues, “In other words, I’m not opposed to being your mate, but I have no idea if that will even fit in me.”

Barclay looks down, then back up at him, “It will.

“Are you….saying that from experience or-”

“I’ll make it fit, pretty boy.”

Joseph moans, the nickname relaxing him with its familiarity even as he realizes he’s more turned on than he’s ever been in his entire life.

Barclay smirks, “You like that? Like knowing I’ll make you be a good mate whether you like it or not?”

“Ohjesuschrist yes” Joseph yanks off his shoes, fumbling with his belt and pants as Barclay starts on his shirt. The buttons prove too much for his semi-feral state and he rips the fabric in half, shoving the cloth away and pinning Joseph to the ground by his shoulders.

When Barclay’s gaze flicks down, Joseph wonders if he was expecting something else.

“I’m um, I’m not exactly a, um, ‘traditional man. The top half is easier to change than the bottom.”

The werebear manages a kiss to his cheek, “I knew. Could smell how you got turned on when we talked sometimes.” He scoots back, hooking his hands under Joseph's knees to hold them open, “made me wanna do this.”

Joseph’s response comes in the cut-off cry he makes as Barclay buries his face between his thighs, lapping affectionately at his dick and folds.

“Barclay, Barclay ohmygod” he laughs as a the tongue fucks experimentally into him, moving his hand down until he can rest it in auburn fur, “good boy, oh good boy.”

The werebear growls happily, pressing his tongue against him more firmly as he does.

“Do you like that? Like knowing you’re being good for your…mate?” The word is odd in his mouth, but the response from Barclay makes it worthwhile. The werebear growls again, far louder, and grinds his hips like he’ll die if Joseph doesn’t let him fuck him soon. His tongue focuses on Joseph’s dick, the relentless attention bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

Just as he’s about to have the best orgasm of his life, Barclay pulls back.

“Please don’t stop.”

“Can’t let you cum yet.” Barclay carefully lowers Joseph’s legs back down, “only want you doing it with my cum inside you.”

Joseph covers his face to hide the embarrassingly loud moan.

“I know. You like the idea of being my mate. Of everyone knowing it.” He licks a lazy stripe up Joseph’s chest, “elbows and knees.”

He changes position, palms sinking into the blankets. Barclay blankets him with his body, nuzzling the back of his neck and nipping his shoulders, “You look good like this, pretty boy. Like it’s where you belong.”

“You’re making a convincing case for me staying here forever.” Joseph turns his head to kiss Barclay’s forearm.

“Yeah?” Barclay sits back, and a moment later the head of his cock teases Joseph’s folds, “you wanna just lay around and get fucked like a good mate? I can do that.” The paw not holding his cock settles on Joseph’s ass, kneading it possessively, “My house in Kepler is big enough for two. Or more. Lot’s of houses nearby, your family could move out here and we could make sure they’re okay. I’d make you breakfast every day, come home at lunch just to eat you out…”

Joseph moans and pushes his hips back, suddenly desperate to have Barclay inside him. But the werebear continues rubbing the head against him, lost in his fantasy, “could do this every night. Train you to take me, make you love being on my dick so much you beg for it.” Barclay’s hips change tempo as he ruts against him. There’s a deep, honeyed chuckle, “man, listen to me. Used to daydream about breaking outta my cage, holding you down on the floor and making a mess of you while I knocked you up.”

Joseph’s mouth moves faster than his brain, which is why he moans out “godyes” before adding, “please don’t.”

Barclay pauses, pets his thigh, “Can’t happen when I’m a Were and you’re human. No one knows why. But that’s how it works. And even if I could breed you like this, I wouldn’t, not without asking. So,” his paw smacks into Joseph’s ass, “you can think about everyone knowing you got knocked up by the beast you were supposed to be keeping tamed to your heart's content.”

He turns his head and after a deep, steadying breath says, “I’d like it better if the beast actually tried to.”

Brown eyes go huge in the lamplight. Then Joseph is hauled backwards, flipped around, and dragged into Barclay’s lap.

“No fair, blue eyes, being feral was fading away and then you had to go and say that.” He guides Joseph over his cock, breath coming in puffing growls, “and now I can’t think of anything but giving into instinct.”

Joseph wraps his arms over Barclay’s shoulders, “I trust my mate to take care of me.”

Claws prick his hips and shove them down. The moan ripping out of him is undignified and obscene, but it pales in comparison to the roaring one Barclay releases as he cums the instant he bottoms out.

The werebear blinks sheepishly, “Sorry. It’s just so tight I kinda couldn’t help it.”

Joseph kisses his snout, “I forgive you, big guy. But if you don’t get me off soon I’ll…I’ll find another werebear who will.”

Teeth give his shoulder a warning bite as a paw rubs furiously at his dick, “Like hell you will, pretty boy. You’re gonna stay right here on my dick until I’m done with you, and then you’re come home with me, lemme feed you a fucking amazing meal, then get in bed and raise your ass like a good little mate.”

“Yes, yes” he grinds on Barclay’s cock, the thin portion at the base making the rest feel all the thicker as it rubs at every sensitive spot inside him. He never knew he could enjoy being filled like this, being used like this.

He cums with a gasp, hands flying to Barclay’s chest and clinging to his fur as he shakes and whimpers through the waves of intense pleasure. When he’s done, he raises his head and discovers Barclay licking his lips.

“Fuck that was hot. And” he thrusts up, cock fully hard again, “now you’re nice and loose for however much I wanna fill you.” He lifts Joseph’s hand in one paw, kissing it, “how’s that sound.”

“Incredible.”

“Good” the cock inside him thrusts deeper with wet, pornographic noises as he fucks his cum up into him, “because this beast is gonna breed you the whole fucking night.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joseph wakes up to faint bird calls and a human hand stroking his hair.

“Morning, blue eyes.” A less growl-filled, familiar voice whispers to him.

He looks up and finds a handsome face with an auburn beard and coffee-brown eyes smiling at him.

“Still like me when I’m not as hairy?” Barclay teases.

“Like is not even a remotely strong enough word.” Joseph pets his beard, “you know, I had no idea werebears were able to talk when feral.”

“We can but it’s really, really hard. But I did it so you’d know it was still me and not be scared.” Barclay holds him closer; there are tattoos on his arms and Joseph can’t wait to get a better look at them, “I meant what I said last night. About you coming to Kepler with me and bringing your family. It’s a good town, and way cheaper to live in than Starbrook. So…” he turns impressive puppy-eyes on Joseph, “what do you say?”

Joseph kisses full, welcoming lips, “I’d say it’s my lucky day.”

#sternclay #agent stern/barclay #monster boyfriend #monster march #werebear #taz amnesty #terato #human/monster romance

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paganminiskirt · 11 months

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TALES FROM THE WIP WEDNESDAY CRYPT - NO LODGING FOR THE MAD EDITION

So, guess who finally got some revision done?Hopefully, I’ll be out of this Fucking Lobby Scene soon; I do mean to finish this someday.

Been tagged by @shallow-gravy and @adelaidedrubman these past few weeks; tagging @henbased @florbelles @vasiktomis @deputy-morgan-malone @strafethesesinners @broken-balance-baby @detectivelokis @derelictheretic

“The name, sir?” He didn’t go out of his way to include the honorific, but the man snickers anyways.

“How about Jack Moulton.” He says it like the punchline of a joke. “Don’t think I’ve used that one before.”

Mindlessly Joseph hums an agreement, fiddling with the register. The name on the card is “Adrian Solossa” - what even is that, Spanish? Faith would know, god I miss her - but he could always say he thought it belonged to one of his buddies, if the cops ever come knocking on behalf of whoever’s pocket it was plucked from.

“William Peyton still owns this motel, yes.”

Of course, this is a friend of his boss, the living wax statue. “He does”

The man - Jack draws back from the desk, finally, swiping up the keys. “Tell him Hoyt is here in the morning. Hoyt, not Jack. Let him come by and say howzit.”

He’s got no goddamn clue what the last part of that sentence was, but he catches his real name, the archaic, viking-ish Hoyt. He’s handled people who used fake names before, husbands two-timing their wives and lot lizards from miles up the road, two distinct types of whore. Hoyt’s a bit old to be a gigolo, his friends a bit underdressed; a pimp from out of town and his security, maybe. It would explain why it seems he’s supposed to feel honored.

Jack or Hoyt or whatever he is pushes himself up off the table, the motion a greater mercy than anything Joseph’s seen since coming out here.

“Go unlock the door on 235 and turn the heat on.” He tosses the key to the sunburn, who catches them seamlessly, somehow still sharp. “Bring the floppy haired yokel with you, he can carry the bags.”

He kicks the glass door open unceremoniously, hovering a bit in the threshold to cock his head in Joseph’s direction.

“Do that quickly for me, eh?” One ugly blue eye winks, pleased with himself from the looks of it. “Long night.”

The door falls shut behind him, a draft brushing Joseph’s cheeks as he watches him disappear into the dark.

As quickly as he can, Joseph wriggles his arms into his hoodie and slinks out from behind the desk, some exhaustion seeping back in now that the shock has worn off. Helping his weird friend settle in must mean something to his boss, he decides, and Joseph is doing him a favor working with a scalded hand as is - once this is over, he’ll stay outside to smoke a cigarette. He’ll spend what’s left of the shift doing what he likes.

He’s already halfway to the door by the time the sunburn hauls himself out of his chair with a grunts. A shockwave of chilled, breathable air washes over him as he drags it open, and he sucks it in greedily, even as his body tenses.

This stretch of land always has a languidness to it, but at night the desert drops all pretensions of life and slips into dreamless sleep. In the half-year since he drifted out here, the road has seen no cops, no buses and no cars worth more than 5K. He buys his food from the same place where his coworker puts gas in her car, steals appliances from the Hotel’s stock when his own break down. Every so often, a coyote will go behind the dumpster to gnaw bones or have pups, but they never settle here, no more than the clientele. Joseph is attendant to a dusty, transient purgatory, locked down where the guys he came to Texas with have long since passed through.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do, if something happens to him.

#joseph seed #far cry 5 #hoyt volker #no lodging for the mad

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bluejaysandblackbats · 2 months

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Bloody Valentines

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Young Justice 98, Titans, GL Corps, Legion of Super Heroes, Flashfam, New Gods

Summary: 90s vampire slasher AU

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Dick Grayson, Joseph Wilson, Jason Todd, Charley Parker, Zatanna, Eddie Bloomberg, Daniel Cassidy, Chester Williams DC, Guy Gardner, Kyle Rayner, Lilith Clay, Raven Roth, Kole Weathers, Bette Kane, Donna Troy, Roy Harper, Jenni Ognats, Bart Allen, Virgil Hawkins, Richie Foley, Ayla Ranzz, Zoe Saugin, Rol Purtha, Darla Aquista, Lori Zechlin, Hal Jordan, Helen Jordan II, Orion DC, Lightray DC

Relationships: DickJoey, Daniel Cassidy/Zatanna, Jenni Ognats/Virgil Hawkins, Raven/Lilith Clay

Additional Tags: POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator(s), Vampires, No Capes AU, 90s Slasher AU, Homoeroticism, Horror, Slasher

Chapter Three: The Itch (Zatanna's POV)

"Put the knife down," the man in swim shorts raised his voice. I peeked around the corner, kicking myself for being neighborly. "We can talk about-."

"What is there to talk about? You all think I'm the Happy Harbor Butcher anyway!" the kid yelled. I took a breath and raised my book as I entered their cabin. The man shook his head, giving me away, and the kid whipped around.

"Oh crap! Hey, he's not in any danger. We were working on practical effects for my aunt-. See. The knife is fake," the kid explained as he pressed the trick knife into his palm. I let out a sigh of relief and hid my face with my book, and we all had a laugh.

The man approached me and rested a hand on my shoulder. "You okay?" he asked. "That must've really freaked you out. I'm Danny Cassidy, and this practical effects prodigy is my boss's nephew. He's the incomparable Eddie Bloomberg, the next big face of practical effects in horror." Eddie shook his head.

"Danny's the real genius... I'm just his humble apprentice," Eddie replied. I knew what he was up to. He figured all it took for me to fall head over heels for his friend, Danny, was a kind word or two.

Too late. I thought he was cute from the moment we locked eyes. I offered Danny my hand, and he took hold of it. "I'm Zatanna. My friends call me Zee," I whispered.

"Well, Zatanna... Are you spending the weekend up here too?" Danny questioned. I nodded. "Well, I hope you'll let me call you Zee by the time this weekend's over." He kissed my hand, and I flashed a smile at him.

"You guys up here for work?" I asked.

"Nuh-uh, I'm up here to meet friends," Eddie answered as he put the trick knife away. I set my book down on their table.

A tea kettle whistled, and Danny released my hand to go and turn it off. "Eddie invited me up with the promise of creative inspiration, but I think he just needed a ride. It doesn't hurt that we're making a movie about this place pretty soon," Danny replied, "But I'll be here, soaking in the beach scene... Maybe even check out the caves. What about you?"

"Call me crazy, but the place came to me in a dream... But it sounds like you guys are filming a nightmare," I whispered as it sunk in. They were filming a horror movie about the beach.

"It's just like any other beach... The movie's based on urban legend. Not backed up by fact at all," Danny reassured me.

I probably should've told him the truth. It wasn't a dream. It was a vision. Usually, I didn't travel to supernatural hotspots blindly like some ghost-chasing tourist, but anyone who could feel the magic there knew. Many people would be compelled to come there. My father called it an itch, but it was something different for me. It buzzed in my spirit as magic passed through my bones. I couldn't ignore the pull.

Danny offered me a cup of tea, and I accepted. He set a serving dish filled with tea bags at the table, and I made my pick. Eddie sat down and twisted a spoon in a jar of honey before dropping it into his mug. I grabbed a bag of berry hibiscus tea, which seemed like a step up from the chamomile at the cafes. I hated chamomile.

I shook the bag down and placed it in a mug. Eddie passed me a cup filled with spoons, and I gave myself a spoonful of honey for my drink, and Danny poured hot water from the kettle into our mugs before making his cup of tea. The warmth set my nerves at ease. "What do you do?" Danny asked.

"I'm a magician," I replied. I twirled the spoon around in my mug.

"Now I know where I've heard that name! You had a residency in Vegas," Danny replied. I bit my lip to conceal my smile.

"Yeah, have you seen my show?" I asked as I blew on my tea.

"Yeah, I saw your show three times. I've never seen anything like it," Danny replied.

I smiled a half-smile as I took a sip of my tea. "Thanks... Actually, I came over to see if you guys wanted to do a bonfire at the beach tonight? At seven-ish?" I whispered. The door slammed behind me, and I jumped.

A bizarre sensation shrouded the room, and I shut my eyes. I breathed through the feeling because I was much more sensitive than the others. At least I thought so. When I looked up, Danny and Eddie looked like they'd seen a ghost. Eddie stood up and left the room, and Danny took a sip of his tea and shook his head. "Gopher!" Danny called. "I'm sorry, this film is starting to get to us."

"No, I felt it too. I think it's just one of those days," I half-lied. Danny followed Eddie, and I was alone. I could hear them talking through the door, but I couldn't hear half of what they were saying.

I finished my tea and slipped away. I walked down the trail toward my bungalow, feeling something looming outside my vision. I rushed back to my cabin before a hand grabbed my wrist. I shrieked. The person released my hand. When I turned to see their face, I relaxed my shoulders and sighed.

"Jesus Christ, Chester," I whispered, "I didn't think you were coming."

"Yeah, I've been here for an hour wandering in circles looking for you," Chester replied, "Good thing I ran into you. Doesn't this place give you the creeps?"

"Don't tell me you're scared," I teased. Chester smiled.

"No way," Chester replied, "Just paranoid... Besides, you were the one that screamed bloody murder the second I caught up with you." I laughed with him. Nothing like getting the daylights scared out of me by a completely harmless friend to calm my nerves. That and a well-welcomed smoke on the beach.

Oh! I forgot to mention. I invited Chester. He was a friend of a friend's friend and a real sweetheart. That and I didn't want to be alone that weekend. "Hey, Zee? Got you a surprise from my garden," Chester smiled as he gave me a small box.

The box contained a small airtight container filled with weed. We went to my cabin and smoked for a while before I finally let it slip. "Who's the Happy Harbor Butcher?" I questioned. Chester turned to me on the couch, and we maintained eye contact for what felt like forever.

"Aww, no thanks, Kid. I'm out of here-."

"Chester, come on," I whispered. I grabbed his arm. "It was a simple question."

"I've got two rules for camping. No urban legends and no night hiking," Chester replied.

"Don't-. Don't leave. I won't ask about it again," I replied, "Do you want a soda or something?" Chester nodded, and I grabbed two from the fridge to keep him calm.

We should've left that day. I think I'll regret that forever. The pit in my stomach told me there was more to Happy Harbor Butcher than an urban legend, but the itch kept me there. I couldn't leave. Whatever energy drew me there kept me trapped by curiosity.

#fic #bloody valentines fic #Zatanna #Eddie Bloomberg #Daniel Cassidy #Chester Williams DC #Daniel Cassidy/Zatanna #POV First Person #Unreliable Narrator(s)#Vampires #No Capes AU #90s Slasher AU #Homoeroticism #Horror #Slasher #dc comics

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kwebtv · 3 months

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Character Actor

John Arthur Doucette (January 21, 1921 – August 16, 1994) Character actor who performed in more than 280 film and television productions between 1941 and 1987. A man of stocky build who possessed a deep, rich voice, he proved equally adept at portraying characters in Shakespearean plays, Westerns, and modern crime dramas. He is perhaps best remembered, however, for his villainous roles as a movie and television "tough guy".

Many baby boomers first saw Doucette as the bad guy on television in several episodes of The Lone Ranger. Performing as an outlaw proved to be a natural role for him, considering his rough looks, commanding presence, and skill with a gun. He was considered by many to be among the fastest draws in Hollywood. His roles, however, went well beyond that stereotype. He appeared on a variety of television shows, including The Time Tunnel, Racket Squad, The Range Rider, Wagon Train, The Roy Rogers Show, The Fugitive, The Adventures of Kit Carson, The Cisco Kid, City Detective, Annie Oakley, The Joseph Cotten Show: On Trial, My Friend Flicka, Sky King, The Californians, Broken Arrow, The People's Choice, Sheriff of Cochise, Bat Masterson, Behind Closed Doors, The Texan, Lawman, The Everglades, Mackenzie's Raiders, Bonanza, The Wild Wild West, The Virginian, Have Gun - Will Travel, Kung Fu, The Rat Patrol, Hogan's Heroes, Adventures of Superman, Sea Hunt, Science Fiction Theatre, Walt Disney Presents, and Tales of Wells Fargo.

Doucette portrayed a police lieutenant, Tom Gregory, on the television version of Big Town. Between 1959 and 1961, he also played Lieutenant Weston on the series Lock-Up, Aaron William Andrews in the comedy The Partners, and bounty hunter Lou Gore in the episode "Dead Aim" on the series Colt .45

Doucette was cast on television as the Apache Chief Geronimo for the 1958 episode "Geronimo" on the Western series Tombstone Territory. He was also cast in 1961 as Captain Cardiff in The Americans, a 17-episode NBC series, starring Darryl Hickman, about how the American Civil War divided families. In 1963 he played “Michael McGoo”, a proud & lovable storytelling Irish sailor in the S6E26 edition of Wagon Train. (Wikipedia)

#Character Actor #TV #John Doucette #Big Town #Lock-Up #The Partners #The Lone Ranger

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andrwgarfields · 1 year

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thinking about a joseph william locke asking his mum whether he can get his ears pinned back and facing body dysmorphia 🥲 makes me sad, protect him at all cost pls

#im glad hes tough and have good ppl around him #but its just heartbreaking #joe locke #heartstopper

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juneandnick · 1 year

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Fanfiction - “Meeting in Toronto” - Part 1 on 4 by me

Do not hesitate to tell me what you think. Sorry for all mistakes.

June knows about the deal between Nick and the US government. She knows he crossed the border to see her at the hospital and he gave a punch to Joseph back at Gilead. She knows Nick blowed up his life for her. Everybody breaks, she recalls.

June is so angry that he can think a second he is nothing. Because it is absolutely not the case, not for her. She blames herself. Fortunately Gilead did not put him on that f**king wall to punish him. Because she would never have recovered.

June had many very difficult chat with Luke. He deserved to know the truth. She wanted to be honest. He does not understand and thinks she suffers a sort of Stockholm syndrome. Even a psychologist could not convince him of the contrary.

A day, while she prepares Nichole for a nap, she receives a phone call. Mark needs to see her for a private meeting: Good news, Nick could be at Toronto soon.

Officially he will there to represent Gilead and to prove his allegiance to his country. Unoffically, he will be there to collaborate and to bring some informations to Tuello. But there is a problem, he could be there with others Commanders.

Alone or not, he will stay at the Fairmont Royal York hotel but he will have two rooms on two differents storeys. The first room will be a suite, the official room for the Commander he is. The second room will be secret, where he will have to take a private elevator to access it. Where the cameras in the storey will be all off.

Nick's schedule will be busy, he will have to juggle between his obligations (to visit Gilead Information Center, to lunch with politicians …) and his duties (as a spy).

After a few days of negotiation, he finally arrives with only two guardians: Sean and Kyle. They work for The Eyes. But above all and luckily they are trustworthy men.

Nick's days are full and exhausting. He is also dying to contact June, to hear her voice and to see their daughter: Nichole. But he must be very careful for their safety. He is aware that he might not see them although he is in Canada.

For his fourth day at Toronto, Nick meets Mark for the second time but the latter quickly uses the pretext of an urgent meeting to shorten the working time.

4:45 PM. Ready to leave his unofficial room someone knocks at the door. Nick opens and is pleasantly surprised: Hi! June is there with a bag. She is all smile and hands him a piece of paper: Please read and sign. He raises an eyebrow.

Dear Mister Williams, I am sorry to inform you that I will be not able to make it to the ball tonight. I have a terrible headache. I hope to be able to meet you before I return to Gilead. With my best regards. Commandant Nick Blaine.

June gives the signed note and a tip to the butler. She looks to Nick, puts on the door the sign “Do not disturb”, enters in the room and locks the door. While absolutely not taking her eyes off him, she takes off her coat, her dress and her sneakers. Where is Nichole?, Nick whispers. With her godmother. He nods.

As their first time, he waits and holds his breath. With a suspender belt, she is absolutely and terribly sexy. June approaches to him, she looks at him amused and lowers his suspenders, undoes the buttons of his shirt before to continue with his pant. Nick looks at her, he worships her. She approaches closer and kisses him.

🙈 Rated X.🙈 I deliberately give free rein to your imagination. If anyone is inspired to write the scene, it is welcome.

7:25 PM. Nick looks at the clock before returning his attention to his sweetheart who is both satisfied and drowsy. He savors this precious moment where he finds refuge in the arms of the woman he loves. He then allows himself a little rest.

Twenty minutes later June wakes up, stands up and goes to the bathroom. Back to the bed, she looks at Nick who is sleeping. She smiles seeing his curls. He looks so peaceful but older than his age. As long as Gilead will exist, things will not be easy.

June stares into space. She thinks to Hannah, she can never resolve to leave her baby in this shitty place. If only all this did not exist. If only Gilead could burn.

- Everything is ok?, Nick asks. - I want to be your wife … I mean legally. I want to take Hannah and Nichole to Hawaii. Swim in the beach with you. Drink cocktails while watching the girls play together. I do not want to wait any longer. I want us to be able to go home together right now! I do not want us to be separated anymore. I am so tired of this shit.

- I know, he answers before to take her in his arms. I know.

- I would like another baby, June says shyly. Nick looks at her surprised. Please do not answer. Because I know how it is completely ridiculous, she murmurs. - It just I did not expect that, Nick answers. And no it is not ridiculous, it is just …

He stops. They both know why they can not and remain silent.

Few minutes later, June looks at him, stands up and comes back with her bag:

- Oh I forgot! I bright you some surprises ... I bring you some Nichole’s pictures ...

- Our daughter is beautiful, Nick smiles. She is so lovable. - And like her dada she hates tuna, June reveals laughting. - Really? - Yes she totally hates that. - She is a whole different person. She is growing up so fast.

- Look this one. Nichole plays with a little boy and a little girl. - Who is this boy?, Nick asks teasingly and raising an eyebrow. - Nick, June replies laughing. His name is Christopher and he is three months younger than our daughter. This is his twin sister: Addison. They moved to Europe.

- Nichole asks for a puppy. June looks at him. What do you think? - If it is not too much for you, I am fine with the idea. - Are there any allergies in your family? - Not that I know ... Nick smiles but thinks that he misses her so much.

- Oh look at these, we visited a farm. She loved horses, chickens, rabbits, cows but was scare by pigs. And these one, it was at the carousel, we were with Rita. - How is she? - Rita? She is fine. She baked some cookies for you. She hands him a metal box.

- Thanks so much for all of this, that is adorable. Please say thanks to Rita for me. - I promise. June puts the photos on the bedside table where there is a small cactus. - Would you like something to eat?, Nick asks. - I am not hungry. Not for food. She eyes at him suggestively.

(A cactus is a symbol of warmth and unconditional, enduring love).

4:55 AM. The hotel phone rings once and then twice a minute later. It is a code to tell to June that she has ten minutes to get ready, to say goodbye and to leave.

The two quickly get dressed and Nick takes June's hands:

- Keep Nichole safe. Keep yourself safe. Promise me. - I promise you ... I will. - Tell Nichole that I love and I miss her. I think about her all the time. - I will ... Please take care of you too. I do not want to lose you. - I promise you.

He pulls her into his arms and he kisses her.

- I love you, Nick caresses June's cheek. - I love you too, she answers by kissing him in return.

This goodbye is heartbreaking for both. They kiss a last time and she leaves.

Source Pictures: Screenshots S2E11 (by me) + Elisabeth Moss Instagram

#the handmaid's tale #osblaine #june osborne #nick blaine #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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