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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Nie Huaisang is the cutest thing monsters have ever seen, they can be yao dragons or giant turtles one look at nhs and they want to feed hug or kidnapt him nmj trainning involved recovering his baby brother from every monsters nest around qinge

ao3

“I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue said, his teeth gritted together and his arms shaking from the strain of holding Baxia up. “He’s mine.”

The massive tiger glared down at him over Baxia’s blade, currently stuck in its teeth, and growled something.

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. His legs were shaking now, too. “I know, trust me, I know! I’m human, he’s – young, yes, yes, I know. But he’s my little brother! I’m not giving him up!”

The tiger spat out the blade, knocking Nie Mingjue backwards on his ass.

“And when you change your mind?” the tiger demanded. “Will you abandon him then?”

“No!” Nie Mingjue exclaimed. “Never! He’s my brother!”

“Mark your words,” the tiger said ominously. “Or else.”

It turned and stalked off, its tail waving arrogantly in the air, until its towering white form disappeared into the distance.

Nie Mingjue sighed in relief. “Huaisang?” he called, and a small head popped out of the nest the tiger had started building, blinking owlishly at him. “Come on, come to da-ge. It’s time to go home.”

“But Master Tiger said we were going to play…”

“Yes, well, he wanted to play for too long,” Nie Mingjue said. “Only a few centuries, give or take. Let’s go.”

It started back when Nie Huaisang was born.

No, more accurately, it started when Nie Mingjue’s father fell in love with someone he probably oughtn’t have, which according to the sect was not a terribly uncommon problem for him to have, and decided to bring home a bride.

Nie Mingjue could still remember the first time he’d seen the Second Madame Nie. They’d all been lined up to greet her, all the sect and close members of the clan in rows according to rank, Nie Mingjue fidgeting in the inside of the house proper in his first tangle with formal clothing outside of the discussion conferences. She had come sweeping in with her head held as high as a princess, seductive and bewitching.

Every movement had been perfect, the eyes of all the men fogging over in lust and the women in admiration – or visa versa, depending on their personal preferences – and a wicked smile had lit up her face when she had stepped across the threshold, officially becoming the sect leader’s wife, and maybe everything would have gone along with whatever plan she’d had back then if she hadn’t next seen him.

“Oh, look at you,” she exclaimed, rushing over to pinch Nie Mingjue’s cheeks between her hands. “What a delectable little morsel you are!”

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said, staring up at her with big round somewhat-worried eyes.

“You charming little dumpling,” she said. “You adorable mouthful of meat! Spoonful of egg yolk!”

Nie Mingjue cast his eyes around to see if anyone would be willing to help him.

“My eldest son,” Nie Mingjue’s father said, not without pride – albeit perhaps a puzzled sort of pride. “He’s probably just about old enough to come to the forecourt, if you don’t want him to live with you –”

“Oh no,” she said. “He’s definitely living with me.”

And so she stayed, and Nie Mingjue stayed with her, and she doted on him in a way he found pleasant if mildly disconcerting. Within a year, she was pregnant, and irritated with it; six months after that, she was round and complaining, even though Nie Mingjue solemnly assured her that she was as beautiful as ever.

“This is your fault, you know,” she told him, and he blinked at her. “It is! Don’t get me wrong, your father’s a charming bull when he wants to be, and of course he fucks like a champion stud, but I stayed here for you, my little cabbage roll, my charming chunk of liver.”

She patted her belly.

“That means this here is all because of you. So you’d better take responsibility!”

Nie Mingjue considered the issue for a little. The argument seemed plausible, so he raised his hands and put them on her rounded stomach. “I will take care and watch over him for all my life,” he vowed, and the baby inside kicked his hand in response, sealing the pact.

“Oh you are so cute,” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “My darling pork bun! My little fish cake! I could eat you right up, if only you were just a little bit older!”

When Nie Huaisang was born, she disappeared in a welter of blood, but Nie Mingjue’s oath remained.

The trouble started after that.

“You can’t raise a cub like that properly,” the winged lion argued, bating its wings as if that would help it make its point better.

Nie Mingjue glared at him. “Watch me!”

“It’s for your own good, little human. He needs his own kind –”

“I’m not listening to a treasure-seeker!”

The lion scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that most humans think I’m good luck!”

“You’re not trying to steal most humans’ little brothers, are you?!”

The winged lion sighed, a deep sound, so very noble and long-suffering that Nie Mingjue couldn’t resist the urge to lift his foot and kick the lion right in the paw.

“Brat!”

“Don’t care!” he shouted. “You leave my brother alone! He’s my responsibility, not yours! Piss off!”

“You can’t even feed him properly -”

“I’ll figure it out!” Nie Mingjue bared his teeth and wished he was old enough for a saber.

“You little…fine. Fine! I’ll bring you a book on how to feed a huli jing kit, and you keep to it, you hear me?”

“I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “But don’t you even think of taking him away!”

“On your own head be it,” the winged lion grumbled. “Not everyone’s as understanding as me.”

“Why are you wet?” Nie Mingjue’s father asked him.

“Water monkeys,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “There was a nest.”

“Water monkeys? Don’t they normally stay away from people…? Or, I suppose, were these ones feral?”

“Thieves.”

“Ah. Well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose…bad luck for you to run into them here, of all places. But good experience! How many people your age can say that they fought water monkeys?”

“Can we go home?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little plaintively, and rubbed his nose. “How much can you really have to say to the Jiang sect, anyway?”

His father chuckled. “More than either of us would like, unfortunately. But if you’ve had enough of water, which no one can blame you for, maybe you and Huaisang can go shopping in the pier instead?”

That would work, Nie Mingjue thought, and nodded happily.

(Sect Leader Jiang was extremely embarrassed about the ghostly rats in the night-market – he claimed they’d never seen neither nose nor tail of them before the Nie brothers had accidentally tripped over their trap and had to flee from the swarm...)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nie-er-gongzi,” the white-clad cultivator from the mountain said, smiling broadly and saluting deeply.

Xiao Xingchen had made himself famous during his first half-dozen night-hunts alone for his extraordinary grace, bearing and strength, and he said he was on a mission to help the world. He was beautiful, virtuous, and matched each ideal of gentlemanly arts.

Sects throughout the cultivation world were drooling at the thought of enticing him to join them, fighting for the opportunity to put in a good word with him.

Not all sects.

Nie Mingjue stepped forward, purposely putting Nie Huaisang behind him.

“Don’t you even think about it,” he said, hand on the hilt of his saber. “Buzz off, birdbrain.”

Xiao Xingchen might wear white, but Nie Mingjue knew a zhuque chick when he saw one.

“I found something for my aviary, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang, seven years old and delighted with his clumsy autonomy, announced.

Nie Mingjue, less than a full year into his new role as sect leader, rubbed his eyes. “Oh?” he asked, only somewhat wanting to scream endlessly into the void, which was better than usual. “That’s nice, Huaisang…”

“Come look! It’s so pretty!”

“I’m a bit busy –”

“But da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue sighed and got up, following Nie Huaisang to the door only to come to a complete stop.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said to the fenghuang currently pretending to be a rooster in a cage, as if anyone would actually mistake phoenix flames for regular feathers. “Do you have no dignity left?!”

“You can’t adopt the bashe,” Nie Mingjue said to Nie Huaisang, who pouted. “It eats elephants; we’d be broke within three months.”

He turned to the giant python.

“You can’t adopt Huaisang,” he said. “I will literally murder you.”

“Why can’t I go watch the eclipse?” Nie Huaisang complained. “Everyone else is going!”

“I’m not risking a tiangou.”

“The…dog that eats the sun? Really, da-ge, is that even real?”

“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, “you’re grounded just for saying that.”

Nie Huaisang grinned.

“Maybe I want to go and live among the qilin!” Nie Huaisang screamed, fourteen and hormonal about it.

“Well you don’t get a choice!” Nie Mingjue bellowed back.

“You’re not my father! I don’t have to listen to what you say!”

“I’m your fucking sect leader and yes you do!”

“I hate you!”

“I don’t care if you hate me! You still aren’t going to go live in a field with some magic pointy deer and that’s final!”

The qilin herd wisely chose to withdraw.

“Da-ge,” Jin Guangyao hissed, and Nie Mingjue looked up from his work at him – he hadn’t heard Meng Yao this upset since he’d shoved him into a closet to get him out of way during the whole dangkang boar hunt debacle. “Da-ge, there’s a dragon outside.”

“Again?” Nie Mingjue said, standing up to stretch and feeling oddly unbalanced. They’d just finished another session with the song of Clarity, so he really shouldn’t be feeling like this; he would need to write to Lan Xichen again about his fears that the treatment really wasn’t working. Lan Xichen would probably only say to give it more time, another chance, but still… “Let me go talk to them. Dragons are the worst.”

“No, da-ge, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said. “It’s not a water-serpent or – or even a jiaolong – it’s a dragon.”

“A flood-dragon is a type of dragon,” Nie Mingjue said, following Jin Guangyao outside. “You know that, it’s in the name, what’s the big – oh, I see. It’s a celestial dragon.”

Jin Guangyao glared at him with an expression suggesting that he was under-reacting, but Nie Mingjue really didn’t have the capacity in him to reach with appropriate fervor at the moment. He and Nie Huaisang had been fighting a lot recently, every little thing escalating into a giant argument, and he was no longer sure if he was doing the right thing in trying to force Nie Huaisang onto the path of his ancestors. After all, unlike Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang had – somewhat different ancestors, on his maternal side.

And, he supposed, Nie Huaisang was old enough to decide otherwise, if he truly wished…

Still, Nie Mingjue was as stubborn as a mule and had no intention of giving up his baby brother without a fight, so he braced himself and went over to the frankly massive creature draped over the entrance gateway and much of the training yard that the entirety of the Nie sect was doing its utmost best to pretend that they weren’t seeing.

Nie Huaisang was sitting on the thing’s five claws – an imperial celestial dragon, apparently – because of course he was.

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue called up to the dragon, which turned its head to regard him, an entire production that took nearly a quarter ké to accomplish. “The brat there is mine, please return him.”

“Da-ge!” Jin Guangyao hissed again, but Nie Mingjue waved him away.

“You have raised him well,” the dragon said, which was…a good deal nicer than most of these interactions usually went.

“…thanks?” Nie Mingjue said suspiciously, ignoring Jin Guangyao’s splutters of “It talks?!” “I think?”

“I have chosen to grant you a boon,” the dragon announced.

“…right,” Nie Mingjue said. “If this ‘boon’ is that you’ll take him off my hands, I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse. He may be trouble, but he’s still my brother.”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, indignant. “Don’t be rude. I asked him for this!”

Nie Mingjue frowned at him, unable to resist the feeling of hurt even though he’d already told himself to expect something like this. “…you want to leave?”

“No, da-ge, don’t be ridiculous. I asked him to improve your health!”

Ah.

“Huaisang –” he started to say.

“Don’t you ‘Huaisang’ me!” his little brother shouted. “I know you’re trying to hide it, but it’s getting worse, isn’t it? San-ge told me so! He said I should get ready!”

Nie Mingjue made a mental note to strangle Jin Guangyao, who had no right to say something like that to Nie Huaisang even if maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world to emotionally prepare Nie Huaisang for the upcoming bereavement and inheritance he would need to face.

“Anyway, he said to get ready, so I did!”

“You can’t just ask a divine dragon to fix me, Huaisang. That’s not how this works.”

“Uh, it totally does, and I did, and he agreed. So there!”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms and glared. “And what did he want in return?”

“The boon is a reward for your past merit, not a trade for the deeds of the future,” the dragon said, not even slightly hiding how its whiskers were shaking with suppressed laughter. “You have travelled a difficult road, and borne the weight of it well. And besides…”

“Besides?”

“If you were to die, he would undoubtedly petition the creatures of the underworld to return you.”

“Well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said, having not considered that. “Fine. Whatever. Heal me and I’ll try to keep an eye on my health going forward.”

Maybe more Clarity? He could try to free up his schedule, get in a few more sessions…

“I just give up,” Jin Guangyao said behind him. “I just fucking give up.”

Nie Mingjue, assuming that he was talking about Nie Huaisang’s nonsense, agreed whole-heartedly.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #nie huaisang's mom #my fic #my fics #child development #same headcanons as three times the charm #Anonymous

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homeofhousechickens · 2 years

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Hey! I’m sorry to ask a random question but I was wondering if you could give any advice on behaviour? Aussie back yard Brahma owner here. I have three lovely pullets whose ‘sister’, the leader and elder by a few weeks, passed away suddenly from an unknown cause, a few weeks ago overnight. Since then, the previously harmonious group has started to compete for dominance, sometimes puffing their hackles and running at each other to peck another on the top of the head... But the real problem is, they’ve stopped wanting to be cuddled every night before bed 😭 Not only did I lose the friendliest most cuddly chicken who I really loved, but also seemingly the love of the remaining three... Is this an age thing? They’re about 5.5 months and not laying yet. Once they work out their pecking order, might they come back to me? Is there anything I can do to make them love me again? I miss them crowding around all trying to fit on my lap at once to snuggle, and have been trying to coax them into loving me again with gentle advances and food, but it doesn’t seem to be working 😢 It’s heartbreaking for them to suddenly no longer like me. (Also if you had advice on getting them to actually try to eat kitchen scraps, or perch on their roost at night instead of sleeping in a pile in the coop bedding...?) Sorry for sending random questions on anon but some chicken groups on FB seem full of mean ppl so I’m a bit worried!)

Aw im so sorry for your loss Brahmas are such good birds. Basically it sounds like you have just two gals now at POL (point of lay) right? This is a very hormonal and stressful time for them as their bodies get ready to begin egg laying on top of losing their flockmate. It isnt uncommon for once friendly cuddly pullets to become extremely skittish. I have a theory that this is due to the hormone surge and also that this is around the time Roosters usually start grabbing at them. Most birds do grow out of this especially if their boundaries are not pushed The best thing to do is to keep building their trust and sitting on the ground so your not towering over them, this will make you much more approachable for the silly pullets. Just hang out in their run during feeding time and this will help them trust again. If you just have two birds now I honestly would recommend getting 2 more as this will help the group as a whole feel more secure. You usually dont want to get just one because its harder to add odd numbers to an existing flock/pair

#advice

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disney-android-foundation · 3 years

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Hey if you’re still taking requests/asks…(and I think u might like this one ;) ) Can I get a Yandere Alemeda Slim???? Robot AU and regular please.

;)

Normal

- There are two possible ways you could’ve met Slim, him up front or him as Yancy O’Del.

- Meeting Slim up front would be rare considering that he only ever comes out at night without his disguise, he can only go out in the day time with his disguise. So you’d have to be the owner of some land and Bulls to even have a chance of encountering the real Slim. Now normally he doesn’t take anything but the cattle, so you’d have to be pretty darn special in order for him to take you.

- When he does take you, he keeps you in a makeshift cell. It would most likely be a ransom kinda holding where he requests money from your family or maybe the town you sold to. Since you’re already there, he talks to you, just basic things, nothing that seems obsessive. As time goes on, maybe a week (he works quick), the questions he asks and topics he brings up kinda sound like he’s planning something more than just a ransom. He starts sitting closer to your cell now, obviously believing that you can’t do anything. Now he even lets you out of the cell from time to time, but you have to be by his side at all times.

- When asking why he’s suddenly wanting to get close to you now, he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close, he confesses his feelings for you and how you’re the only person to ever make him feel this way. Even though he poured his heart out to you, you refused him, saying you can’t be with a criminal. Slim is just, stunned. How could you possibly refuse him?! You two have spent so much time together (You’ve known them for a week Slim calm down-) how could you not like him?…… Well the thing is, he’s not taking no for an answer. You’re gonna be with him no matter what, if he has to break a few bones, so be it.

- If you met him as Yancy O’Del, perhaps you’re an innocent shop keeper for a general goods store. You’ve had a regular customer come in to buy either mustache oil, hair gel, beef jerky, whiskey, or rope. He was always kind and gentleman like to you when making his purchases, always making conversation with you. It becomes clear that he buys from you constantly just so talk to you, so you inform him that he doesn’t have to buy anything just to talk to you, you have no clue how happy that made ‘Yancy’.

- You two started talking outside of your work schedule, and then you started to date 2 months later. At this point you still have no idea that it’s Alameda Slim under the glasses and coat (bith is you dumb??? JK), but ‘Yancy’ believes it’s time you knew. So he brings you to a secluded location away from society, to you it’s a possible marriage proposal, to Slim it’s something else. Once he mustered up his courage, he went behind a rock, he was there for awhile before emerging as not Yancy O’Del, but as Alameda Slim.

- You were absolutely shattered by the news, how dare he lie to you for so long?! He was shattered as you were, you really can’t like him for being a wanted criminal, after all you two have been through? Of course, he makes it seem like he’s letting you go as long as you don’t go spewing off the town like tweety bird about how famous land owner Yancy O’Del is actually the notorious Alameda Slim. You agree, not actually knowing what Slim was planning.

- In the dead of night, you were woken up by the smell of smoke. The inhalation of smoke caused you to start choking on it. You run out of your now on fire house, wondering if maybe you’d have left a candle burning, your thoughts are quickly interrupted by the sudden hog tie you have been put in. Through your daze of confusion, you see familiar gloved hands forcefully shove a drenched rag on your nose and mouth, conciseness slowly fading. The last thing you hear is, “You don’t get to decide that this relationship is over. That’s up to me, and I sure as hell don’t plan on letting you go.”

Android

- Slim was bought to help you on your chicken farm. Yeah it seems silly having such a big man help handle such small birds, but he hasn’t complained much.

- You’ve had a Mcleach droid before Slim. He mostly kept predators away from the coops. Plus it was mentioned in reviews that Mcleach’s and Slim’s are best friends so it would be great for the two to have each other while you were busy elsewhere. So you can imagine how shocking it was to arrive home to see Slim nearly beating the life out of Mcleach.

- You had to pull Slim off of him, asking what the hell was going on. Slim didn’t answer you, just stared at you weirdly before picking up some notebook and calmly walking out of the house. You couldn’t be bothered to follow him, you had to get Mcleach to a repair shop immediately.

- Upon arrival, bystanders and the repair team were just staring in awe. “Wha, What happened to your Mcleach?!” “My Slim droid went berserk on him! Aren’t they supposed to be friends?” “Well yeah usually, let’s work out his voice box first so that we can get the full story.” They fix his voice box and the whole story spills out.

- On the second day of Slims arrival, Mcleach noticed that Slim would stare at you for a long time without your knowing. Way longer than what should be necessary. Mcleach asked him why he kept staring at you, but was only given a “mind your damn business” they weren’t exactly friends at this time so it was understandable that Slim would want to keep to himself rather than just spill everything there is to know about him. So weeks go by and he still catches Slim staring at you, now he’s been writing in a journal. Mcleach would try to peek at what’s inside, but Slim seemed very protective of it so it was hard to even glance at it without Slim noticing. So he waited until the day Slim finally let his guard down enough to where he would leave the journal behind or just plain forget about it. You had left to go to the market and Slim heard some of the roosters fighting so he had to go sort that out, leaving the journal defenseless on the table. Mcleach had to be fast, so he quickly but quietly darted for the table. He didn’t even care to start from the beginning, he just opened a random page and started reading. The entries were all about you. Everything you have done while Slim has lived here, everything you like and love, every shower, everything you’ve eaten, what time you usually go to bed at, how you look when you slept. There were some entries on Mcleach, mostly on how he’s nothing but an obstacle and must be dealt with as soon as possible. Mcleach was so caught up in the reading, he didn’t even notice the cowboy, right behind him. That’s when the fight started.

- Everyone in the repair shop was horrified by Mcleach’s story, an employee immediately called a task force to retrieve the Slim droid immediately. They had you stay in the repair shop until they gave the ok.

- The task force definitely saw the damage that Slim made in the house but couldn’t find him there. So they had to start checking the surrounding area.

- You requested to go home after 3 hours of searching, saying that your chickens need to be cared for. The task force was reluctant but agreed so long as an 2 officers were at home with you.

- Even with the officers, you were on edge and jumpy about every little thing that went bump. The officers tried their best to calm you down, but how can you be calm knowing a deranged robot that you thought you could trust could be stalking you at this very moment?

- Despite the worry, you still needed to go to bed. One officer stayed in the house while the other would guard the outside. Not matter how strong Slim may be, he isn’t resistant to bullets.

- You woke up early in the morning like usual, you had to feed the chickens or else they’ll wake up the neighbors. You put on a bathrobe and work boots, strange, shouldn’t at least one of the officers be heard?

- You open you door, only to be met with an all familiar cowboy. You tried to scream, but your mouth was quickly gagged. “I don’t need you makin so much noise, not when I’m tryna bring you home!” Bring you home?! What was he talking about?!

- Slim bound your hands and feet together and slung you over his shoulder. He started to walk out with you, that when you saw the mess that he made, the officers weren’t moving, they didn’t even look like they were breathing. You quietly started to cry as Slim made his way into the woods, where he promises your new home will be better than your old one.

#disney villains #disney #android #android au #alameda slim #yandere Alameda Slim #yandere Alameda Slim x (y/n)#alameda slim x (y/n)#(y/n)

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aquatik · 4 years

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Hello vale <3 May I request a Kuroo scenario where he jokes about wanting to spend time with his s/o so they have a “girls” day together with a at home spa and etc 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 and I would find it cute if you also wrote the scenario for one of your comfort characters too but you don’t have too! Well 🥺 thank you sm vale. Love ya -🛸

“girls” night spa hcs with kuroo, sugawara, and yaku

pairings - tetsuro kuroo x reader, koushi sugawara x reader, morisuke yaku x reader

word count - 1600

genere - fluff

fem!reader

warnings - none <3

under the cut since these got long

Tetsuro Kuroo

so you guys are hanging out, after volleyball. you were watching those old youtube videos of like vlog-style/ expectation vs. reality type of thing

the good ole’ days

anyways

kuroo was scrolling on instagram to see one of your friends had posted a throwback to one of your sleepovers on her private. you guys had on face masks and a hair mask on the picture

“baaabe?”

“yes suro?”

“when was this?”

“ooh, i remember! that was months ago. haven’t had one in a while.”

“let’s do it.”

“wait what-”

in all honesty, you couldn’t say no. what was the worst that could happen? it could actually be fun

you guys go to the store and purchase everything you need. surprisingly, kuroo actually knew what to get

well, could you be surprised? man knows everything about chemistry, it’s no surprise he knows his way around what’s good for your skin

“suro how do you-”

“don’t question it.”

you took initiative on the hair care products since that’s self-explanatory-

as you were about to pay he smacks your hand and pays for himself

like, sir ???

anyways

you guys head back and start the spa night

you both took turns in applying everything on each other, you make sure to scrub that hair mask well into his hair to at least make sure he’s a healthy rooster head

“did you just purr?”

“wouldn’t you like to know.”

you guys post a lot on instagram and snapchat.

the team group chat going off:

kenma just said kuroo looks stupid with his hair flat. lev was accusing kuroo of cutting his head off since he looked shorter, yaku was yelling at lev. kai was just telling you guys to have fun, and yamamoto was sobbing, saying how kuroo doesn’t know how lucky he is.

for sure at one point you guys went to scare kenma.

like kuroo has a key so you guys snuck into kenma’s house

you were just sitting on the couch, recording

kuroo turned his wifi off so kenma got up to go fix it

“was the cord too heavy..?”

“surprise pudding head”

“what the fuck-“

and kenma grabs a pillow and full-on throws kuroo to the ground.

sir-

where that strength coming from?

“KENMA MY FACE MASK-“

“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE? I JUST GOT DISCONNECTED FROM AN AMONG US GAME! YOU ASS!”

“MY FACE!”

now you have a great video

overall you both really enjoyed the little spa night, promising to do them more often.

on the plus side, kuroo had really soft rooster hair. you had succeeded.

Koushi Sugawara

okay so you being the supportive girlfriend that you are, you attended their volleyball practice. you just so happened to have finished a really difficult assignment a while ago but you were still exhausted

coach ukai gave them a break before they started individual practice. being the loving boyfriend sugawara is, he immediately ran over to you

he was too busy practicing earlier to see you stressing over the now completed assignment. even though that assignment was taking up your time, you managed to multi-task and do both the assignment and watch them

“hi my love, did you see the- woah hey, what’s wrong?”

“huh? oh, nothing. i was just working on the assignment that i mentioned to you earlier. but yeah, i saw the play you guys are doing great. you're going to practice the synchronized attack later right?”

“well- i mean yeah but you should have been paying attention to your work.”

“nah it’s fine, i got it done anyways.”

“spa night.”

“what”

“you heard me. spa night. your sleeping over tonight and staying the weekend so it’s fine. i will not tolerate this stress in you, plus it will be fun!’

“you know, you could use one too.”

“well, then more reason to do it right?”

dammit, he’s convincing.

so after practice, you guys make it on your merry little way to the store and bought everything

no really

everything.

any mask you started reading: in the cart.

any facial cleanser? consider it bought.

face serum? you got it

oh and snacks. lots of snacks.

mans didn’t even let you pay

you knew this would happen so you sneaked and bought something and just hid them in your bag

so you know you guys are spamming your feeds everywhere. tiktok, snapchat, instagram, twitter you name it

you guys took a couple of pictures with your face masks on

since you had to wait a while for the face mask to set, you guys were going to watch something while eating

but no you had other plans

“no put the controller down.”

“what why?”

“because.”

you pull out a manicure kit, you had hidden this from suga

“i’ve gotta make sure my favorite setter has well-taken care nails. wouldn’t want an injury to happen.”

“...”

“kou?”

“i love you so much.”

“i love you too kou”

so you guys take turns feeding each other little snacks while doing suga’s hands. standing up to wash the masks off then continuing where you left off.

the whole time you guys would talk about anything so it was a nice time

once your done he thanks you and kisses your nose

i love him if you can’t tell

you guys definitely have more of these in the future.

you guys used one of the pictures you took together and now have matching profiles, you having sugawara as the profile picture and him having you.

morisuke yaku

you being nekoma’s unofficial but at this point you are the manager you always go to every practice, game, you name it

so you get to see your lovely libero boyfriend practice

and also becoming the mom of the team

oh and let’s mention lev

he’s a great boy, he has potential but does he strike a nerve at yaku sometimes

it seems more recently the team has been pushing these said strikes

while thinking of ways you could help him de-stress, you look up to him smiling at you, only for it to turn to yelling at lev

“what are you thinking about bab- LEV SHUT UP!”

“hmm, i got it!”

“what?”

you point at him and he’s like ???

“you. me. spa night when we get to your house.”

“what- i mean i’m not opposed to it but any reason why? are you okay?

this man doesn’t even realize-

anyways

you take his water bottle he was drinking from and he goes back to practice

you see him working hard, getting his receives, and digs to near perfection. you can’t help but notice how red his arms are getting. more red than usual.

you made a mental note of them and to remember to purchase something at the store later.

after practice ends you guys go to the nearest store and buy everything you need. getting some snacks, face masks, etc.

he goes to the other side of the store to see if he can find any athletic tape and you take your opportunity.

you go into the aisle, pick up the items run to pay, hide them, and boom mission complete.

he comes back with the tape and he doesn’t let you pay

like wtf square up

but it’s fine he kisses you when guys leave the store since he can feel the anger seeping from you

mad —> happy

you guys get back and he throws a hoodie on you, the typical routine.

he’s actually really excited to be doing this! he’s been wanting to do this with you for a while but didn’t know how to bring it up. plus poor baby needed to relax.

“baby let’s do this one!”

“wait mori we need to do this one first”

“oh”

pouty baby

you have your masks on now, waiting for them to set. you pull out a nail file to smoothen out a nail that had chipped in the corner.

“are we doing nails?”

“nope”

”aww”

“oh wait, mori roll your sleeves up”

huh? okay..”

you pull out some massage oil and lotion, the two things you went in search of at the store.

“i’ve seen your arms mori, let me do this.”

“truth be told, i got the tape for that reason.”

you get to work, massaging the arms of the nekoma setter. the pent up stress he had was now gone, due to the fact he was talking to you about it and you massaging his arms.

after you finished, you both wanted to go pick up some food. so you guys head out.

only one thing

you forgot to take the masks off.

“wait mori-“

“oh shit”

“oh well”

so the two of you chaotic people just went to get the food with your face masks on.

before that you guys took pictures

you get to the place you guys wanted to get food from and low and behold:

most of the team is there.

“YAKKUN WHAT ARE YOU DOING”

“SHUT UP ROOSTER HEAD”

“YAKU-SAN IS DYING!”

“lev it’s just a face mask he will live”

“YAKU YOU LUCKY LITTLE-“

“i think they are adorable”

“KAI WE ARE SUPPOSED TO MAKE FUN OF HIM”

“oops”

you guys get your food then r a n

he kisses temple as you both walk out of the food place

please i love him

his arms are feeling so much better! he no longer needs the tape.

it became a silent agreement that more arm massages and more spa nights would take hold in the future.

these were so cute to write i love them-

general taglist- @drabblily @visaintes @bellesowl @miki-snake

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falcon-eye · 4 years

Text

Part 3? of the story for my OCs for @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU! I intended to only write like the opening paragraph for this today but now it’s two hours later and the whole thing is typed out. Oops.

At some point this will all be on AO3, I promise! But until then, should I do a tag list? Would people want me to tag them as I write these in the meantime? Please let me know!

(Also points to whoever can guess what Veko’s talking about when it comes to colors and smells and things! I also have it, though not exactly like Veko does)

(Also bonus points to wherever can figure out what real life goat Ren is based on lol)

———————————————

Unfortunately, Veko wasn’t able to return to Eloise for a few more years. Between simply not being in the area, not having time between hunts, his brother Hamra almost being disemboweled one year, and his own injuries, he just hadn’t been able to make his way to her little town in Temeria.

This year, he was determined to go back, though he wasn’t sure why. He chalked it up to being able to stay somewhere comfortable, with actual good food, for free, but even he knew that was a flimsy excuse. Eloise fascinated him, for lack of a better word. She hadn’t been afraid of him—quite the opposite! From the get-go it was like she had tried to intimidate him, and godsdammit it worked. But she was so nice to him, and despite what she said, her food was quite good. Or maybe everything Veko had been eating recently was just that awful.

Veko swung down off of Nine—his new gray mare after Eight became wyvern food (rest in peace you prick)—and hitched her to the fence post outside Eloise’s house. For some reason, he was nervous to see her again. Was it because it had been so long (for a human anyway) since he’d been here? He didn’t want her to think he wanted out of their deal or anything.

Veko brushed as much dirt and grime off of his armor as he could before knocking on the door. A moment later, it swung open and Eloise stared up at him with wide eyes.

Veko scratched his burns. “Uh, hello Elo—“

Eloise threw herself at him, arms around his neck. “Oh my gods!” she cried. “You fucking prick! Where have you been?!” Veko faltered for a moment before tentatively wrapping his arms around Eloise’s, but she immediately pulled back, giving him an icy glare. “Well?!”

“I, uh, I’ve been... busy,” Veko replied, but for some reason, Veko felt awful despite it being the truth.

“Busy!” Eloise exclaimed. Holy shit, she’d really been upset about this.

“I’m sorry,” Veko said, staring down at his boots. “I really am. And—and I really was busy. I don’t want you to think I was trying to get out of the deal or anything, cuz I wasn’t—“

“You think I’m upset because of the fucking deal?!” Eloise shouted. Veko blinked at her and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “For Melitele’s—get in here!”

Eloise pulled Veko into the house and slammed the door. Despite the few years that had gone by, not much inside had changed. There were more paint supplies strewn around the house than last time, but that was about it.

Veko scratched his scars again and Eloise slapped his hand away. “Sorry,” he said automatically.

“I thought you were dead!” Eloise shouted, poking a finger into Veko’s chest. “You’re a bloody Witcher! That’s what happens, isn’t it? You fight monsters, and then you die. Well godsdamn you I thought you died!”

Veko was horrified when the salty smell of tears began tickling his nose; something must have showed on his face, because Eloise rubbed her eyes quickly, not letting any of them fall.

“I’m sorry,” Veko said again.

Eloise glared at him again before suddenly hugging him. “Fucking git,” she hissed. “Send a letter or something, at least! I don’t know how to get ahold of you but I’m always here!”

Veko hesitated again but hugged Eloise back. This time, she didn’t pull away. “Sorry,” he said into her hair. “Just, every time I was in the area, something would come up, or my brother was hurt, or I was too injured to travel—“

“Are you ok now?!”

“Oh yeah, all healed up now.”

“And your brother?”

Veko smiled sadly, remembering the blood on his hands and the horrifying look of resignation on Hamra’s face. “Touch and go for a bit, but yeah, he also made a full recovery. I just couldn’t leave him like that.”

Eloise finally pulled away and crossed her arms. “Well damn,” she grumbled. “How can I be mad at you now?”

Veko chuckled, feeling like a weight had lifted off of his chest.

—————

During lunch, Eloise filled him in on how things had been going since they’d seen each other. Lennart was still a bastard, but after being slapped in front of the gods and everyone by a lady at the tavern, he’d been officially removed from his position. A local woman had taken the title of alderwoman now, and things had been a lot better. A few of Eloise’s goats had had multiple babies, though a wolf problem last year had taken a few of them. She still had one of her original nanny goats, though, and apparently this particular goat was about as stubborn as they come.

“She actually chased one of the wolves off, even!” Eloise explained. “Charged it head on. I’ve never seen a wolf roll like that in my life.”

“Remind me not to piss your goats off, then,” Veko chuckled.

Eloise seemed to pause for a moment. “I actually have to go feed them,” she said. “Plus, your horse has just been... well, outside tied to my fence. Come with me?”

So that was how Veko found himself leading his horse to the tiny barn behind Eloise’s house. He could see a couple goats that were obviously youngsters immediately rush over to the fence, bleating loudly. From within the barn, a huge tan goat trotted out and fucking screamed.

Veko flinched and even Nine pulled back. “Sorry, sorry,” Eloise said. “That’s Georgina. She’s... special.”

“I’ll say,” Veko grumbled. “This our wolf chaser?”

Eloise shook her head and pointed to another goat on the opposite side of the paddock. A little black thing, shorter than the others, with huge, curled horns. Eloise whistled and the goat immediately charged—and slammed horns first—into the fence.

“Ren,” Eloise said, crouching down to scratch the goat between the ears. “She’s harmless. Mostly.”

Veko looked at Nine and seemed to almost share a stare with the horse. A ‘can you believe this shit?’ moment that got Veko chuckling despite himself.

“Whatever you say.”

Eloise led Veko and Nine into the barn and into a small empty stall. “This was my father’s horse’s stall,” she explained as Veko began undoing Nine’s tack.

“Where is your old man, anyway?” he asked as he heaved the saddle down.

Eloise looked away. “He, um,” she cleared her throat. “He passed, um, a few months after you left.”

Veko dropped the saddle. “Fuck,” he said. “I’m—I’m so sorry. Fuck, if I’d known—“

“Veko,” Eloise put a hand on his arm, “my father was sick. Even I didn’t realize how badly until a week before he went. But it was... it was peaceful, at least. I’d made him dinner, he wished me goodnight, and I found him in the morning.”

Veko honestly didn’t know what else to say. Death was a weird subject for Witchers, after all. He continued grooming Nine while searching desperately for something to say that wasn’t ‘sorry’ again.

“Did he have... a funeral?” Veko asked. He could’ve slapped himself. Of course he had a fucking funeral.

Eloise seemed to sense Veko’s fumbling, because she smiled gently and nodded. “A very nice one, too,” she said. “I’ll go get some water for your horse.”

As Eloise walked away, Nine looked at Veko again. What was it with this horse? Veko pointed a warning finger in his face; Nine simply huffed and turned away. Somewhere, Hamra was laughing, Veko was sure of it. His brother had always had a good relationship with his horses.

Eloise returned a moment later with a bucket of water. Veko immediately took it from her and poured it into the empty trough.

“What’s her name?” Eloise asked. If he could blush, Veko would’ve been scarlet.

“Nine,” he said.

“‘Nine’?” Eloise repeated. “Does that mean something in another language or like, the number?”

“The, uh, the number.”

Eloise slapped Veko’s hand as it reached for his scars. “Why?”

“She’s my... ninth horse.”

There was beat before Eloise burst out laughing. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Veko smirked to cover his embarrassment. “So I’ve been told.”

Eloise rolled her eyes and headed over to the opposite end of the barn. The far wall was lined with bales of hay. Before she could even reach for one, Veko rushed over and hoisted one over his shoulder. Eloise put her hands on her hips.

“You know I’ve been doing this for years even before you showed up, right?” And she had a point; what was wrong with him?

“I, uh,” he looked anywhere but at Eloise, trying to find an excuse. “I figured it’s... been a while since I’ve been here so I, uh, owe you. I guess.”

“Are you telling me or asking me?”

“Yes.”

Eloise laughed. “Ok then,” she said, heading back out of the barn. “I’ll get the gate at least.”

Veko followed Eloise to the paddock and held Ren by a leather strap around her neck while he made his way through the gate. The other goats immediately began following him. As soon as the hay hit the ground, the goats descended. Eloise let Ren go and the other goats parted to let her through.

“I never realized how scary goats were,” Veko said as Eloise latched the gate closed.

“To be fair, I have quite the herd of characters,” she replied. “Most people have a rooster to wake them at sunrise; I have Georgina and her screaming. Ren is like my own personal guard hound. Sometimes she gets out and chases off anyone who gets near the house. The others are still young, yet, but they’re slowly starting to show their personalities.”

“I’ll stick with horses, I think,” Veko said. “They’re enough trouble as it is.”

“Apparently!” Eloise laughed as she and Veko made their way back to the house. “Seeing as you’ve had nine of them!”

“This is a dangerous job!” Veko defended, but the tone was joking. “Plus in the grand scheme of things, nine horses hasn’t been a lot for how long I’ve been on the Path.”

Eloise’s brow furrowed. “How old are you?”

“Old.”

Eloise scoffed and started gathering some of her paints. Veko followed her into her art room, not sure what else to do at this point, and found the walls covered in different paintings than the last time he’d been here. One in an ornate frame was her father, exactly as real as if he was standing before them.

Eloise picked up a few leather straps from one of the tables. “Help me with something,” she said. “I’m going to repaint the goats’ collars and I don’t know what color to give who. I want you to help me decide.”

“Ok?” Veko said, taking a seat. “Why?”

“Something you said to my father, when you saved him,” Eloise replied. “It always confused him. He told you he lived in the house with the blue roof and you said it suited him. Why?”

Veko went to scratch his scars, but instead balled his hand into the fabric of his pants. “Well, it’s, uh,” he hesitated. Of all things for that old man to focus on!

“My father was always fascinated with color,” Eloise said, as if sensing Veko needed a minute. “That’s how I got into painting. He was never content with something being the original color it was. Hence, the blue roof. He said that you saying the blue suited him kind of, I don’t know, validated him.”

Veko’s chest felt tight. Now he felt fucking terrible for not being here before. Maybe Eloise’s father would’ve understood, or at least found it interesting that—

Veko cleared his throat. “So, sometimes,” he began, staring down at his hands. “When I think of things, or names, or... well anything, really. I get these senses.” When he looked up, Eloise was enraptured. “Like, your father, just looking at him, the color blue came to mind. I don’t know why.”

“Just colors?”

Veko shook his head. “Smells, sometimes. Like when I think of you... I, uh, I think of the smell of your paints.”

“That’s... that’s fascinating, Veko,” Eloise said. “Tell me more?”

Veko gestured to the collars. “Well, you’re trying to figure out what color for what goat. As soon as you said Georgina, green came to mind. I don’t know why. And Ren is red, but not because the name and word are close. Uh, sometimes when I picture my supplies in my pack, I see them like they’re all laid out on the table, lined up side-by-side, despite the fact that I know damn well they’re a jumbled mess in my bag. And in my head, the order is always the same. I kinda do the same thing with months. I see them lined up like squares on a wall.” Veko grimaced. Fuck. “No, ‘see’ is the wrong word, cuz I don’t—I’m not hallucinating or anything!”

“I believe you,” Eloise said softly, taking one of Veko’s hands in hers. And she was telling the truth. Veko felt the tension in his body release.

“It’s weird, I know,” he said. “So I don’t normally say anything. When I was younger the trainers thought my head got fucked up by the mutagens but it’s just the way I’ve always been.”

“Does your brother have this too?”

“No,” Veko chuckled. “But he’s been the most receptive to it, even if he doesn’t understand it. Like, his favorite color is green, but when I think of him I think of like an indigo color. And I’m red, but I don’t know why.”

“What about me?” Veko met Eloise’s gaze and held it. The look on her face was one of honest curiosity and interest. She smiled at him and squeezed his fingers. “What do you see when you think of me?”

Veko swallowed. “I see turquoise, like the color your dress was the first time we met. I don’t know if it’s because that’s what you were wearing or what, but when I think ‘Eloise’ I think of that faint turquoise color.”

“Does it work for family names?”

“Sometimes. What is your full name, anyway?”

“Eloise Calold.”

Veko cocked his head to the side. “Yellow,” he said. “Calold is yellow.”

“But not because of anything I’m wearing,” Eloise said, gesturing to the paint-stained brown smock she was currently wearing.

“Guess not.”

“Veko,” Eloise breathed. “That is the most fascinating thing I’ve ever heard of. So you see colors? Or, think in colors? I wish I had that. I wonder how it would affect my art. I wonder how it would affect your art.”

Veko pulled away and put his hands up. “Hey, whoa, who said anything about me being an artist?” he said.

Eloise laughed. “I bet you’re better than you think,” she said.

“I bet not.”

Eloise smirked. “Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll drop the subject if you do something for me.”

“Name it?”

“Let me paint you.”

Veko again was struck silent. She wanted to paint him? Apparently his mouth was hanging open, because Eloise tapped his chin to close it. “Why?” he managed.

“Because,” she replied. “We’re... friends. Or I like to think we are. And in case... in case something happens to you...” she gazed at the painting of her father, smiling down warmly at them, “I want you to be immortalized with him.”

What the fuck could Veko say to that? “Oh. Ok,” he said dumbly. “Uh. How do you want me?”

Eloise jumped up and ran for a blank canvas. “Whatever’s comfortable!” she called. “It takes a while.”

Veko just... sat there as Eloise began setting up. He turned this way and that, never quite settling, before Eloise huffed and dragged an armchair over. Veko abandoned the stool he’d been on and sat back into the warn leather.

“Better,” he said. He turned, scar facing away, and immediately Eloise’s hand reached out to turn him back. Her fingers grazed the puckered mess that was his cheek and he flinched.

“I’m sorry,” Eloise said gently. “I just—I want to see it.”

“Why?” Veko whispered.

“Because it’s a part of you,” Eloise replied. “And gods know I’ve kept you from scratching it enough.”

There was a moment where neither of them said a word. Veko’s heart sped in his chest like it hadn’t in many years. Eloise gazed over his burn scars and gently brushed her fingers over them again. Veko didn’t flinch this time, but just barely. Her fingers were cool against the phantom heat of his burns, and as she traced the expanse of them along his jaw, he couldn’t hold back the full-body shiver the touch elicited.

Eloise pulled back and Veko scrambled to find something to say before she said anything else about them. “So—so how does this work?” he asked. “I, uh, I just sit here?”

Eloise nodded and finally pulled back. “Yes,” she said, not meeting his gaze. Now that he was out of his own head, Veko could hear her heart hammering in her chest. “Just, um, get comfortable, relax, and um, don’t... don’t move, if you can help it.”

Veko grinned. “Ok.” Eloise nodded and began mixing a few paints.

Veko just... watched her. As brush met paint and paint met canvas, he could almost see the cogs turning in her head. Instead of sticking her tongue out, like he’d heard some artists do, she made faces. A stroke here and her mouth pinched to the side; stroke there and her mouth opened in a little ‘o’.

Veko wanted to slip into meditation, as that would be the best way to sit still for her, but he found he just couldn’t. As much as Eloise was watching him for her painting, he wanted to watch her. He couldn’t help but think of the last time they’d seen each other, and what he thought of her then. She wasn’t all that attractive, merely plain by any standards. Her laugh was unladylike and jarring. She intimidated him. She swore. She—

She made him dinner. She let him sleep in her home. She told him stories and listened to his in turn. She wanted his opinions. She found his mental crap fascinating. She worried for him. She cried for him!

She called them friends.

As Veko sat, watching Eloise paint his portrait, a warm weight settled in his gut. He didn’t want to leave in the morning. Hells, he didn’t want her to ever finish this bloody painting. And although emotions aren’t exactly a Witcher’s strong point, he had a sinking suspicion that what he was feeling...

Fuck.

#falcon writes #inexplicifics #accidental warlord au #the witcher #witcher oc

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redfoxwritesstuff · 4 years

Text

Of Dust and Ashes, #32

Hello, Lovies. How have you been? I’ve been well. The new laptop gets in later today and I hope to be writing more and perhaps next month we may even see a one shot come into existence!

I’ve gotten a slight rash of new followers, some of whom are minors. Unlike some, I do not ban minors from my blog however, I do clearly mark any content that they should avoid. As a general reminder, please always check the content warnings, found at the start of every fic and every chapter. I am an adult of nearly 30 years, I write adult topics and themes.

Chapter warnings: Blood, death.

Series warnings: Smut, blood, graphic death, sexual assault, child death, miscarriage, dead babies- look, if it can be a trigger, it’s in here.

Masterlist Kofi AO3

Chapter 32: What If?

Clint relished the silence in the truck for a few moments as he backed along the gravel driveway. The weeds and grass would encroach on it come spring but for now, it was a mix of ice and gravel mixed with snow. The tracks from his truck were the only ones and if they were lucky, that would remain the case.

Spring would be upon them before they knew it. In much of the country, frozen bodies would begin to rot and a wave of sickness would spread. He wondered how many clusters of people were smart enough to take advantage of the cold to remove bodies.

Not nearly enough, he was sure. No one wants to look at the dead, let alone touch them. Hell, he didn’t want to either. But when it needed to get done, it needed to get done. The sickness would kill many more if the dead were allowed to rot in the cities. It would be far better to be in a rural town during the warm months.

How many more people will have died between now and spring? Food stores were likely low in most places by now. He knew he was having to travel farther and farther to find processed and packaged foods, giving proof to that fact. How many would starve to death this winter? So many would due to not knowing how to cook without the processed ingredients or how to store raw foods without a refrigerator. How many would eat toxic or spoiled food, not knowing how to tell what was safe to eat? How many wouldn’t know how to turn flour and yeast into bread?

Those thousands were not his problem. His problem was limited to three other people and a baby. Shaking his head, he banished thoughts of infant formula away. It was a worry for another day. With enough food and Sasha’s help, Rachel would at least be able to supplement the formula with her own milk. Lizzy just needed to make it four or five more months.

When he reached the open road, he stopped and waited. He sat there with his thoughts for half an hour and watched for any signs of life. There was no smoke from what could be other fireplaces. There were no other signs of people. It was exactly what Clint wanted to see.

Finally, when he was sure enough that there was no one around, he pulled onto the old highway. It’d been mostly abandoned in the last ten years when a new interstate had routed near but the locals had still favored it. He had still favored it.

Now, he was thankful for the interstate. Most migrating people would follow the interstates with their wide lanes, direct routes and clear signs. It would keep them away from his little hole in the country.

Turning on the radio as he went, he hit the scan button. The radio searched through the airwaves, trying to find a signal. When it found none, he repeated the process with the AM frequencies. There was the same emergency broadcast, going in and out. It was weaker now. Clint was sure the emergency generator was finally giving out.

As he pulled up to the gate, he thought about calling Nat. He thought about telling her what they did, that King Jacob was dead. He thought about telling her the things running through his mind. For a moment, he even picked up the satellite phone from where it had sat forgotten in the cup holder. He thought about asking her to come out, to pick him and Dee up and take them to New York.

Fingers dialed the number as he pulled up the hill. His thumb hovered over the button with the green phone. He only had to press it.

His eyes looked up from the phone as he rolled to a stop in front of the house. He could see the motorhome and the chickens. He could see the shed that doubled as a year around grow room. He saw their life and instead of hitting the call button, he flipped the phone over.

Without bothering to power it down, he pulled the back off and removed the battery before breaking the old style flip phone in two. He tossed the parts into the back of the truck when he got out.

He couldn’t be like them. He couldn’t support people like King Jacob and King Mason being given power after they had hurt so many. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it.

As he fed the chickens and gave their coop and pen a quick clean, he wondered if that was what Dee had been dancing around. Would she go with him, if he set out to remove another abusive self named king from power? Would she think he was just a vengeful killer? Was he just a vengeful killer?

There were a good number of eggs in the coop and Clint was thankful for them. They were laying and earning their keep. Feeding chickens food scraps and getting eggs in return was far better than eating the chickens. He left a handful of eggs in the nests. If they were lucky, they would hatch. He picked up older eggs, saved for the same reason and marked with a black dot. Using the light of the sun, he checked them for signs of development and life. Inside, there was a shadow of something growing. Later, he would come out with a flashlight and look properly but that was good enough for now.

The rooster Tony eyed him with disgust. Clint flipped the bird off as he walked into the house. The damned bird should be thankful he wasn't turned into fried chicken yet. Clint was all for using the male to breed the females and have enough chicken and eggs to eat some of both. There was only one rooster though and he worried about genetics. He'd have to eventually worry about finding someone else with chickens to trade and diversify the genetics.

In a cabinet above the refrigerator, he pulled down an empty egg carton and filled it. Laura had always talked about getting chickens when he had finished his countless projects to improve the house. She gathered cartons to remind him or annoy him, he wasn’t sure which. He never did finish the house for her. Even now, it was unfinished. Now there were chickens.

From the deep freezer he grabbed bags of meat. Deer and turkey, mostly whole cuts though he had ground some scraps up. He didn’t pull much out- if it spoiled he didn’t want much to waste. He dropped the bags into a cooler he had partially filled with snow and ice.

He hoped that would work, if kept outside and in the shade, to keep the foods frozen and good for the winter. There was always the question of the weather. This winter had been different than he had seen in the ten years he’d owned the land.

Somehow, it was both colder and harsher than what was normal but it was also warmer. There was a layer of melted snow and ice sandwiched between snowfalls. More often than not, the sky was full of heavy dark clouds. He wondered how long it would take for the ash and dust to truly settle.

He loaded up a box with bags of dried pasta and canned vegetables and fruit. On top, he set onions, a few potatoes and a handful of squash. He filled another box with apples, cans of pie filling and tossed on a few cook books. He filled large gallon bags with flour and sugar from their stores. It wasn’t a lot but it was something. After putting everything in the bed of the truck and securing it, he made his way to the shed turned greenhouse.

The plants inside looked to have been growing well. He had put the lights on a timer before they had left on the off chance that they’d be gone for more than a night. The fact that he had managed to convert the shed into a functional greenhouse was something he was proud of.

Trees grew in large pots, waiting for spring when he would plant them outside. A few small buds grew on the branches of a few citrus trees. He fingered them as he passed. They hadn’t expected any fruit from the trees for at least a year. These buds would likely grow into fruits too small to eat, if they matured at all.

Moving down the aisles, he pulled his knife from it’s sheath at his thigh. The tomatoes had grown well in the greenhouse and the vines of little cherry sized fruit were heavy and bright red. He slipped three of the vines into the box. There were a few zucchini. He hesitated for a bit before snagging two of the vegetables to add to the box.

They were not thriving in the makeshift greenhouse. He knew once spring came and he transplanted them outside, it would be a completely different story. By summer they would have more zucchini than they would ever want to eat. That would be the case for many of the vegetables. Luckily, they would keep well enough in the cellar.

They would freeze or can much of the excess for the next winter. If they were lucky, next winter they wouldn’t have to fear where they would get their next meal. There was another reason he planted more than they needed was for trading. He held very little hope that nationwide supply systems would be functional by then.

There were many who would be suffering from lack of food this winter. Clint strived to make sure that they were not among them. They would have food- sure there would be an overabundance of some things and they’d get tired of eating the same foods but they would not be hungry.

Still, he knew their supplies were thin when accounting for supplying Sasha through the winter. There was no doubt that to supply Rachel and Lizzy it would eat into their supplies. Clint would have to spend more time hunting to supplement what they were growing. Worse yet, he knew he would have to travel farther and farther each time he went out for supplies.

Clint picked a few handfuls of strawberries and called that a day. Sure, there was more ready for harvest. There was food stored in the cellar and pantry but it wasn’t enough. If he had to pick between him and Dee starving or Rachel, Sasha and Lizzy starving, he would choose to keep his food.

He loaded up the back of the truck before pulling himself into the driver’s seat. Rather than start the engine, he sat there thinking with his eyes on the barn. His thoughts swam. The desire to help someone warred with his desire to put himself and the woman he loved first.

He grumbled. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Finally, he rolled his eyes and signed. Opening the door, he slipped back out of the truck and stomped back to the barn. There was no one to witness his tantrum but that did nothing to stop him from throwing one.

He grabbed a large potted cherry tomato plant. The branches and stems slapped him in the face. While he carried it to the truck, all he could think about was how much the plant stank. He was never a fan of the smell of tomato plants. He slipped it into the floor space behind the passenger seat.

He went back to the barn and grabbed potted lettuce plants and berries as well. Whether Sasha had a green thumb or not, he didn’t know but at least they would have some sort of food growing. It wouldn’t be enough to support them. They wouldn’t be able to survive off lettuce, tomatoes and berries alone if he wasn’t able to supplement their supplies but it was something.

The engine roared to life as Clint decided enough was enough. He turned around in the drive and made his way down the dirt road. The gate rolled open as he approached, mindful all the while of the pots sitting behind him.

The first veterinary office he checked had the windows broken out. It was in a small town not too far from the farmhouse. There were days he’d woken up in this town, having spent the night prior in a delirious hunt for his wife and children. It had been a long time since he had visited this town.

Closing his eyes, he took a moment to be thankful that he hadn’t woken up like that since Dee joined him. She saved him from the memories and longing. She saved him as much as he had saved her.

There were a few people who still lived in this little town, though they hid whenever he had been there. Part of him wondered what he had done in the night, lost in a delirium looking for those who he had failed. It must have been terrible, for them to hide from him. Still, he didn't mind that none came to greet him or question him. He would rather less people crawl out of the woodwork and expect him to help them.

Glass crunched under his feet as he stepped over the broken window. Ice and snow covered the ground, obscuring the razor shards hidden in seemingly innocent ice. Slipping and falling here would easily be fatal. Judging by the dried or frozen blood pooled by the window, it already may have been for someone. Looking over to the left, Clint saw the man.

He must have been the one to break the windows in. Dead eyes gazed back at Clint. He didn’t look away from the sight. Frost had touched the man’s fingers and face. Ice and snow gathered over his legs, giving away the fact that he had been there for a while. The dim light of the setting sun flooded in through the broken window. He could see the trail of blood. Around his arm was a bandage, not wrapped nearly tight enough to slow the flow of blood and save the man's life.

He retraced the man’s footsteps. Heavy boots thudded on the tile floor next to the dark trail. Clint followed it through the lobby. It smeared along the reception desk in dark stains and over scattered papers. On the floor was a first aid kit. The plastic was broken, shards of artificial red on the ground.

That was where the man had gotten the bandage he had used to try and wrap his wounds. It wasn’t enough. Rolls of bandage littered the ground. He would have needed every one of them to have anything like a chance. Judging by the trail of blood, nothing would have been good enough other than a doctor though. The fact that he had made it as far as he did was impressive. Humans were always one of the most impressive beasts.

On the wall next to the reception desk there was a display of colorful plastic cones. Clint was sure they were the ‘deluxe’ cones the receptionists would try to up-sell. When his own dogs needed a cone, he always went with the cheap clear or white ones. The cone never stayed on long enough anyway. There was no way in hell he was going to shell out $30 for something that wouldn’t be on for even half the recommended time.

He grabbed a handful of the large ones. There was no reason not to give Trust a deluxe cone experience. In the back of his mind, he wondered if his old dogs would have been more willing to wear one if he splurged the extra money for the nice ones. It was too late to know, the dogs had all died of old age. The one that remained turned to dust along with everyone else he had loved.

The door into the treatment area was closed. Clint tried the knob, expecting to find it locked. The knob turned under his hand without the slightest resistance.

“This is too easy.” He mumbled to himself, looking over his shoulder at the dead body. “Watch my truck, will ya? I should have done this first....”

The last thing he wanted was to find the truck stripped of supplies when he came back out. He took a deep breath. His boots echoed on the tile floors as he made his way through the dark halls. A few dim lights shone, allowing him to see his way. The emergency power had to have been almost gone by now.

Under one of the large procedure tables, there was an emergency bag. The bright red gave it away. He wasted no time in reaching down, plucking it up and setting it on the table. Inside, Clint found a flashlight but little else was useful. He pocketed the travel sized packets of pain medication and alcohol wipes, leaving the rest to someone in more need.

Dust danced in the air as the beam shed light on the space. He listened for a moment, making sure he was alone. There was nothing but silence in the clinic. It didn’t sound like there was anyone messing with the truck either. With a deep breath, he pushed himself to pick up the pace.

He skimmed bookshelves in offices, looking for any books that could double as ‘Veterinary Medicine for Dummies’. When he didn’t find one, he left the office. It wouldn’t do to waste time looking for books. Sasha was a nurse and would have to trust herself.

He checked cabinets, breaking open doors when he encountered locks. It was a vet’s office, not a doctors or pharmacist and so the locks reflected that. The doors and locks both were weaker. No one expected someone to hit up a veterinary office looking for pain meds.

Looking around, Clint found a grocery bag in a trashcan. It looked clean enough. Without giving it much thought, he dumped veils of medication into it. Some were in boxes, some not. Clint assumed the boxes had the drug information inside. If not, he wasn’t going to hunt for it.

When he checked the cabinets and emptied what he thought he could use, he grabbed the bag full of medications and made his way out. On his way, he reached down and snagged the emergency bag. No point in leaving something useful behind because he didn’t have an immediate need for it.

Through the broken glass, he could see the truck looking just like he left it. There was no one else around, from what he could see. Having his eyes on the truck full of supplies was a relief. He allowed himself to relax just a bit.

When he stepped through the window, there was a scream. Clint, in reflex he dropped the bags and screamed for a split second. While his throat tightened and cut his voice off after a fraction of a second. He reached out to the source of the surprise and grabbed them. While he intended to pin them against the way, he hadn’t intended to do so with so much force.

His foot had slipped on the ice, carrying them both forward. The boy’s teeth crashed together with the force as he hit the wall. Clint caught his balance before crashing into the wall himself. The boy’s chest heaved and his eyes were wise.

“Please.” The boy begged and he was a boy. Clint would guess he was no more than 15. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to take anything. I’m sorry. Please let me go.”

“Yeah you were.” Clint grumbled as he let go of the boy after giving him a quick glance over. He appeared to be unarmed, underweight and dirty.

“I was. But I won’t. I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m so hungry and there’s so much.”

“Are you alone?”

“My gran- she’s at home.”

Clint sighed and looked at the boy again. He rolled his eyes and pulled from the box a bag of flour and a stem of tomatoes. It wasn’t a lot but it was something. After thinking for a moment, he grabbed a can of beef stew to add. “Take this. Water that stew down a bit and boil it with flour and you can stretch it farther. Good luck.”

Clint didn’t look at the boy again as he grabbed his bags and tossed them into the truck. He refused to look at the now crying boy as he started the engine and pulled away. If the boy was lucky, he would make it to spring. More than likely, both he and his gran would be dead by then. Clint told himself he couldn’t care.

~~~~~<3

Tag list: @usedtobegoodfriend96, @alcoholic-muffin, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @winterisakiller, @j-u-s-t-4, @bambamwolf87, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @carissime72, @myoxisbroken, @coyotesongwriting, @wegingerangelica, @tnystrk-exe, @faemapfae, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

#clint barton x oc #clint barton x ofc #clint barton fanfiction #clint x ofc #clint x oc #hawkeye x oc #ronin x oc #marvel endgame #death #blood

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seanhtaylor · 3 years

Text

Erosion

The breeze that blew the dust around seemed to whisper rumors that a storm was on its way. I’d only swept off about half of the porch, and I wasn’t even close to being finished yet; after the porch came the back storage room. Since I was just a few feet away the from the open doorway, I could hear Pa whistling, but the wall hid him from me. He’d done a lot of counting in there all week.

Big Bull stood silently on the porch, and watched intently as I worked. His stare never left. Never turned. Never stopped. It was as eternal as the thin flat frown the woodworker had given him. He had skin like rust mixed with mud, and his outfit was a rainbow montage of feathers and animal skins. The man who made him was an Indian too.

Three years ago, Pa had finally bought that store he’d always dreamed of owning. Nettle’s General Store was to Pa the culmination of years of hopes, and the end of the elusive vision that never materialized, yet had continued to tease him me mercilessly. Most of his time, free or otherwise, was spent in that store. Neither my mother, sister, nor I saw much of him after that, except sometimes for supper. Meticulously he’d walk each aisle of the small store and stoop to check every bin of merchandise, neglecting nothing at all. Every yarn or straw doll, knitted scarf, Mr. Goodbar, everything was accounted for and inventoried.

Dust flew and danced around me in the breeze while I swept. Every few minutes, whenever his counting brought him to where he could see me out front, Pa would yell out to me to get on with it, or to tell me that I missed a spot. He wasn’t a big man, but he had a big voice. Most of the time he just kept to himself, staying busy with his inventory list.

“Hey, Pa! You need any help counting them yarn dolls?” I yelled, hoping my words would sneak around the doorway to get his attention. “Miss Barnes says my adding’s about the best in the whole class.” I gave him a few seconds to show. “Hey, Pa! “

“What you yelling about now, Midge?” Midge was the nickname given to me by most of the other kids at the schoolhouse. Short for midget, it never let me forget that I was less, at least in stature, than my peers. It was the only name by which most folks in town knew me. “Say, you ain’t done with this porch yet? Dang, son... Quit fooling around with that Indian, and finish the porch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The wind played tag with the dust, and kept me sweeping twice as much as I should’ve just to get done. When I did finish, I gave my broom to Big Bull, leaning it beside his spear. He was surely a sight, that proud warrior, carrying a war spear firm and ready to fight, and there propped up was against him a ramshackle excuse for a broom. If only a real heart beat underneath that chest of oak, it would’ve burst wide open of humiliation.

“So... Who are we gonna get after today, Big Bull? Billy the Kid?”

Indian eyes gazed straight ahead, seeming to point visibly at a victim for the day. Up main street, like the naked emperor in that Hans Christian Anderson story, walked Kyle Lovett.

“Good idea...” I told Big Bull, “Good idea...”

* * *

“Hey Mee-uhge,” Kyle teased, dragging the nickname into two syllables, “You and your Indian chased any rustlers out of town today?”

Kyle stopped in the middle of the street to make sure I didn’t ignore the remark. He looked different than usual. Clean. Dressed in his Sunday suit. Even his brown, mangled hair was combed. He didn’t look like the same Kyle who had bloodied my nose two years ago.

I knew it was stupid to provoke him again, but I couldn’t help it. Besides, Big Bull was with me. “Kyle? Hey, Kyle? What you all dressed up for? Today ain’t Sunday, and there ain’t a funeral in town or nothing.”

“Look here, Midge,” he shook a fist at me, “What I wear is my own business, not yours, runt.”

That was the Kyle I was used to, no matter how he looked. That was the bully who had been responsible for getting me and Big Bull together in the first place. When he had pounded my nose, Pa had been busy in the back of the store, and my mother had been up visiting my aunt and uncle in Missouri, so where else had I to go but to the Indian? He didn’t tell me to hush up my racket, or that I was too big to cry. He had just listened and let me wet his feet and legs with my tears and the blood from my nose. By the time I’d finished, the swelling had gone down, and most of the bruises weren’t sore anymore. Pa had sure been mad though; the blood wouldn’t wash out, so my shirt had been pretty much ruined, and it was a gift from my cousins.

“I just wanted to know. Didn’t mean to make nothing of it.”

“Well, it ain’t none of your business anyhow... but if go telling everybody, I’ll get you like last time.” Satisfied, he spun around, facing away from the big Windham house at the edge of Chattville, and strutted off like the only rooster in a house full of hens.

* * *

Sometimes Big Bull and I would pass the afternoon hoping for a new General Motors’ car to drive by. Most people who owned a car had an older Model T from ten or twelve years ago. The Windhams owned the only General Motors’ vehicle in town, but they only got it out when they went out to another town. Mostly everybody walked since Chattville was so small.

Before Kyle’s dust could get a chance to settle, Molly Windham came skipping up the street, her red hair pulled off to the sides of her head in pigtails, each one bouncing without rhythm, beating softly on her neck.

“That you, Midge?”

Molly was fourteen, three and a half years older than I was, but it didn’t matter much. Especially standing there in her green party dress, made up like she was grown, not just a girl.

“Sure is.”

She bounced right up to the porch, grinning like the cat from Wonderland.

“Midge...”

“Uh-uh.”

“I just got the best news in the world.” Her lips were painted with bright red; they were two roses, growing on her face. “And I’m so excited I feel like kissing somebody.”

And she did. Molly Windham leaned over and stuck her two roses right on my forehead, and puckered like a fish.

I thought the stars had fallen from heaven, and were dancing around me.

While the stars danced, Molly twirled off the porch, and straight over to the dress-maker’s shop. She jangled the bell beside his door a few times, spinning and jangling, jangling and spinning, until Sam Miller finally came out and yelled something I couldn’t make out before pulling her inside. The echo from the bell drifted toward me and Big Bull.

“Did you see that!?”

The Indian didn’t answer, but I knew he was listening, and that he hadn’t missed any of it.

“Pa... Pa... Guess what!”

* * *

“You done with that porch yet?” Pa had come out to the screen door, tapping his pencil hard against that list of his. “There’s plenty more sweeping to be done inside.”

“Pa...”

He slipped his pencil into the front pocket of his work apron, and pulled his watch and chain from out of his pocket. As he flipped it open, he nodded, “Now, don’t ‘Pa’ me. You know it takes a lot of work to keep this place going. That means all of us.”

“But Lucy doesn’t have to.”

“Your sister’s busy enough taking care of your mother. She don’t have the time.”

“But...”

Pa was starting to get mad. His eyes narrowed like an Oriental man, and his ears began to turn a little red under where his hair was cut. “No excuses. First the back room, where the feed is. After that, we’ll see about letting you play some more with that Indian.”

He held the screen door open until I got the broom and drudged inside, dragging it with me. His eyes didn’t leave me until the door to the back room slammed shut behind me. I know. I peeked back out as he turned.

* * *

My wooden friend waited patiently while I swept out the back room. He hadn’t changed a single expression while I’d been gone. Just like always. He was there waiting.

“How much do you think flowers cost, Big Bull?”

I kept watching for Molly to leave Sam Miller’s shop. After a while nobody went in or came out anymore, but there was still no sign of Molly.

“Special flowers, I mean. Something better than I could pick out of somebody’s yard.”

Directly, Sam left the shop too, and locked the door behind him. He left two empty buckets outside the shop’s door like he always did, just in case anybody needed to borrow one late in the day. His brown suit pulled tight over his round frame making him look like a sausage with a lump in the middle.

“What kind of flowers do girls like now, anyway? They’re always so hard to please. That’s what Pa says. He ought to know... he’s known my mother a long time and all.”

Sam had to walk down by the store to get to his house, and as he waddled by, I waved to him and said hello.

“Well, if it ain’t little Midge. Say, you got you a girl for the dance next month? Surely your Pa and...” He made a face like he’d swallowed a horse. “Surely he’s gonna let you and your sister get out to it.”

“We ain’t so good at dancing, Mr. Miller.”

“I ain’t so good myself...” he said, and he was right. Round men who bounce when they walk looked twice as silly dancing. Even though he waltzed like a bag of potatoes, he always went. The girls said he made the best dancing gowns in the state. “But I wouldn’t miss seeing all the pretty girls in their new dresses I’ve made for them. Just today Molly Windham ordered one of the most difficult gowns I’ve ever had to put together. Old Man Windham said not to worry about how much it costs. It’s a dress-maker’s dream, Midge.”

“What color is it, Mr. Miller?”

“Color? It ain’t just any color, Midge. I’ve gotta order the cloth clean out of St. Louis.”

“They got different colors in St. Louis than here in Chattville?”

“No. Now don’t fool with an old man’s funny bone. It’s red, except it’s the same color red as Molly’s hair, lighter in spots, and shiny when the sun hits it right.” Sam pulled on a gold chain that disappeared into the fold-over of flesh and suit where his pocket should have been. Out flopped a gold pocketwatch. He opened it. “Mrs. Miller will be wondering were I am soon. Hope you get to go.”

I waved goodbye, and then when he was gone. “Roses. Red roses. The reddest we can find.”

I knew Big Bull approved.

* * *

Pa said no when I asked him about the flowers. I told him I’d work harder, and even stay away from the gumballs, but he still said no. That he was spending too much on the store already, and with my mother’s fever still not breaking, even though it had been two weeks.

* * *

The wind was picking up, turning a calm kiss-like breeze into a cold slap. Some papers announcing the dance floated across town in short hops, then flew on, bullet-like, when the stronger drafts got a hold of them.

The porch was warm underneath my weight, but when I touched it in a new place the wood was cold. The moisture on my hands would chill and then thaw in a fluid motion. I looked back at Big Bull.

“Sure was nice of old Joe to let me work for the flowers.”

I held the two flowers, roses, red as Molly’s fiery hair and the lips that had kissed me. They had cost me every cent I had plus a promise to work down at Old Joe’s flower shop once a week when I wasn’t helping Pa at the store. It was a high price, but worth it to see the look I knew would be on Molly’s face when I asked her to the dance.

It had seemed like hours until dusk came. Now that it was here, I could hardly wait. But the timing had to be perfect. I had to show up right after the dishes were put away. If I arrived early, the surprise would get lost in the clean-up shuffle; if I was too late, the effect would be interrupted by the family time around the radio listening to Amos and Andy.

“Wish me luck,” I said, and dashed from the porch.

Roses firmly in hand, I hurried down to the house at the edge of Chattville where Molly and her father lived (Her mother had died of tuberculosis when Molly was a baby). I could think only of my dream, my vision, waiting for me there in her red party dress, the fringes dancing in the evening breeze. My heart seemed not only to beat, but to pound with a steady, driving, big jazz rhythm like Benny Goodman or Louis Armstrong was directing its music. Time hardly passed at all, it seemed before I was there, suddenly staring at the heavy oak door.

Mr. Windham answered the door quickly after my small closed hand gathered the resolve to knock. His herringbone suit hung comfortably loose off of his tall thin frame. When he recognized me, his small mustache twitched and his eyes focused down onto mine.

“Why Midge, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

“Is Molly in, sir? I’d sure like to see her. I’ve got something for her.”

“Sure she is. Right in the den with...”

Kyle Lovett. Mr. Windham didn’t have to say it. I knew it the minute I walked in. He was sitting on the couch with Molly, holding her hand. How could she!? Didn’t she know what he was like? Kyle Lovett.

The roses were trampled underfoot as I choked on the anger rising in my throat, and ran away to Pa, dragging a cracked and tender heart behind me.

* * *

“Pa! Pa!” I pounded at the door with my small fists, knowing he would be locked away in the back office, listening to the clickety-clacks of the adding machine.

The sky had blackened while I had left Molly’s, and had given its first few drops to warn me that a big storm was coming. Rumbles sounded in the distance, but grew a little louder each time. If I’d had sense enough, I’d have let the winds blow me straight up the street to my house, safe from the weather.

“Pa! Please let me in. There’s a storm coming, Pa. Pa!”

As if it had waited for my announcement, the thunder and rain let loose on the earth like God was trying to punish us the way the Pastor down at the Missionary Church had said. The rain began to pelt down, soaking the dirt of the road, and beating it into a shallow layer of mud almost instantly. The papers that had been blown all over town were drenched and wrenched apart by the combined power of the wind and water.

Across the street was the wall of clay we all climbed on in the summer. At least we tried to climb it. It went about sixteen feet straight up, smooth as a polished stone. The only way to make it to the top was to take two pocket knives, and edge your way up, one jab at a time. Only the oldest and strongest boys ever made it all the way. The rest of us could hardly even stick the knives in the wall, since the clay was so hard and set.

Only, the storm washed it down to sixteen feet of mush pretty quickly. Anyone who tried to climb it now would probably drown in the river of wet clay eroding down the face of the wall.

The wind lifted Sam Miller’s two buckets, and sent one through the candy store window, and the other into the outside wall, where it dented and fell, waiting for another flight.

Although the porch kept me safe from most of the wind, it offered me no protection from the worst of the storm. The rain invaded in solid bullets of water, spreading out and joining together to make lakes and reservoirs that ran down between the cracks, only to be replaced by the new puddles that continued to build.

“Pa!” I yelled, but the thunder swallowed my cries. Big Bull stood firm. Since he was so heavy, the wind couldn’t shake him, not even a quiver. The rain soaked into the wood, but that only made him heavier, more secure. It also darkened the colors, and brought him closer to life.

Through the curtain of water, I saw every cut, every strain of artistry on Big Bull’s frame. In each carefully carved inch of his face, pain rested. His eyes were deep- set and sunken a little in sorrow, but somehow friendly in their darkness. The mouth was closed in an eternal silence, and the wrinkled carvings surrounding the flattened frown revealed a subdued bitterness that flamed, no doubt, beneath the painted exterior. Though he held only a single spear, his muscles were tensed and rigid, ready to answer the call to fight, eager. Big Bull captured well not only the hurt and anger of his people, but their strength as well.

So I hid from the storm.

The Indian’s figure kept me dry for the most part. Patches of rain managed every now and then to sneak around his legs and hit me, but I was separated from the worst part of the weather.

In time, the fury of the storm faded away. Its terrible threats and banshee screams died into quiet darkness. The sun had abandoned its post during the attack, leaving Chattville lighted only by the incandescent glow of random windows. Sleep, like a desire for death, found me, and I curled around Big Bull’s wooden feet.

* * *

“Midge... Midge... Get up. You’ll catch a death of cold out here.”

The blackness lifted from behind my mind and eyes, and I saw Pa trying to help me up.

“Pa...”

“Yeah, it’s me. What were you doing out here in the middle of that storm anyway? I thought you were home with your mother and sister.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached for the handle of Big Bull’s spear, and used it to pull my worn-out body to a sluggish stance. Pa immediately reached out to keep me from falling again to the porch, but the spear supported me well enough.

“Let’s get you inside. I’ve got some hot cider going if you want some. It’ll sure help warm up your inards.”

I felt Pa’s overcoat as it was put around me to keep me from shivering. I expected it to engulf me, but it barely spread across my shoulders. He was a much smaller man than I had imagined.

#Gomer and other Early Works #Sean Taylor #short story #Erosion #Southern Fiction

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gloss-glass-ash · 5 years

Text

Sunday's

Request: no

Summary: the farmer!ashton Au that nobody asked for

Tags: @cal-pal-cuddles

Sunday's were spent at Ashton's after the various services let out. His friends and brothers with their kids would roll up the drive, stirring up dust from the dirt road. The dogs would yip with excitement alerting him of his visitors. He'd turn off the stove top and step outside with a dish rag in his hands.

The kids would happily shout at him, crawling and climbing all around him. They'd tell him about Sunday school and regular school, Luna Hemmings would proudly show off her latest lost tooth while Charlie Clifford acted too cool for the whole ordeal. Eventually, everyone made their way inside and settled in for an early dinner.

Ashton loved Sunday's. On Sunday's he had company more than just his animals and the nosy old bat of a neighbor. He wasn't alone on Sunday's.

"I'm thinking of renting the apartment over the garage." He didn't really know why he said that. He figured it was the only interesting thing he could respond with to the "what's been up with you this week?"

"Yeah?" Calum leaned the chair back, rubbing his stomach through his shirt. "What if I move back in?"

"Cal, I love you, but I ain't cleaning your shit up again."

So, he left that alone and published his want ad in the newspaper. He didn't anticipate getting a response so soon, especially not from a teacher. Ashton arranged to meet with the applicant on Saturday after the farmer's market for coffee at the only coffee shop in town.

Ashton settled into a booth by the window, removed his cap, and unzipped his jacket. He ordered a cup of tea and waited. Teachers, by nature, were punctual and Y/N was no different. She arrived promptly dressed like a Pinterest board with a folder in hand and bag on her shoulder. Ashton threw up a hand.

"Mr. Irwin?" Polite, perhaps southern. Ashton smiled and nodded.

"Miss Y/L/N?" He teased showing his teeth. "Came prepared I see."

"There's a reference from my last land lord, my resume and schedule, and two bank statements." Y/N settled into the booth, ordered a chai, and folded her hands on the table.

Ashton glanced over the papers with pseudo intelligence. He didn't know shit about what all that stuff meant; his roommate interest was entirely about someone to use the apartment on the farm and maybe offer human interaction on day's other than Sunday's.

"Why are you leaving your old lease? Those are swanky apartments downtown." Ashton took a sip of his tea, deciding being nosy was his best bet.

There was a blush of embarrassment to her cheeks. "You can look at my bank statements teachers we don't get paid shi-nothing, we don't get paid anything."

He remembers Liz mentioning stuff before about teachers having to protest for pay and pensions. At the time, he didn't care. Today, sitting before this gentle creature soft with curves and gentle eyes, he decided he did care...a lot.

The two got on nicely so he agreed for her to come visit the following Monday evening and move in the next weekend. Monday evening arrived quickly which left Ashton little time to fix any repairs in the apartment while tending to the farm.

Calum left a lot of his shit there that Ashton placed in a box to give him later. He moved the bed frame toward the window and added some plants,interior designers be damned. Y/N arrived in a hatchback, hair falling from a ponytail. She held a coffee mug in her hand.

"Rough day?" Ashton led her up the stairs to the apartment, his hand hovering over her back close enough for protection without being invasive.

Y/N laughed a joyful sound. "Shakespeare for Seniors was today." Sometimes she was so in the education bubble that she forgot there were people who didn't live and breathe school. Ashton's confusion was apparent as he opened the door. "The language arts and social studies departments team up to study Shakespeare and perform for residents of local nursing homes."

"Woah that's so" good, adorable, amazing, "awesome." Ashton entered the apartment. "It's got a living room, bedroom, full bath, basically an open floor plan." He settled onto the bench by the front door, letting her look around. "I'll do maintenance. Heating and air is pretty stable. However, if we get a winter like last years, you'll have to come in the farmhouse it'll be too cold."

"Can I repaint? And can my car go in the garage below?"

She signed papers right away, paying him first months rent with the promise of last months soon. Ashton waved a hand dismissively and assured her he'd help move her in. Slowly throughout the week he would move her belongings over in his old pickup and trailer.

Y/N was all settled by Saturday night, just in time to snuggle up in bed and watch SNL. She was exhausted from her work week and all the stress of moving. Perhaps she should have considered farm life a bit more, but the idea of not sleeping in on Sunday's hadn't crossed her mind.

A rooster crowed at sunrise, perched on top of the fence just outside her window. Dogs barked consistently. Ashton whistled quite loudly as he went about his daily chores. Y/N managed to lay in until 8. Dressing, she headed out to the barn barn where Ashton was happily feeding his pigs.

"Morning sunshine, I didn't wake you did I?" The worry in his eyes was so sincere she couldn't say yes.

"No, I'm used to getting up early." She peeked behind Ashton to the pig pen. "Not to judge or be ungrateful, but you don't, you know" she slid her thumb across her throat.

"I sell them. I eat bacon. I don't eat my own pigs though, wouldn't feel right."

"They're awfully cute."

Without hesitation, Ashton scooped up a squealing piglet and passed it to her. "You get attached then I can't sell her. Do with that what you will."

Poppy got a little red ribbon tied around her neck by that afternoon. Ashton was quite pleased that the little piglet was staying because it meant Y/N was staying. He waved her in from the barn to his back porch. "My family is stopping by for dinner, you're welcome to join us unless you're busy."

Y/N was not, in fact busy. She had finished posting grades, she was caught up on laundry, and she was painfully single. "Are you sure?"

The sunlight hit his smile in the way only movies could, in the way that made him look like James Dean or maybe even Harry Styles. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it, honey." A certain smugness tightened in his chest at the way her eyes widened at his quip. "They'll be over soon."

It had been several years-10 maybe- since she'd been to Sunday dinner but she reasoned her teacher wardrobe would suffice. She searched what food she had brought to move in with, grabbed a bottle of wine, and headed to the farm house. Better to show up with a cheap bottle of wine from CVS than empty handed.

Ashton had changed into sinfully tight black jeans with a crisp white shirt that made him glow. "You wash up nice." Y/N teased handing him the wine. "Not exactly Sunday dinner material but it's something."

Without paused, Ashton took her under his arm and into his chest. A musky yet clean scent filled her senses as he gave her a quick squeeze. "You're the one who needs the housewarming gift, my dear."

Calum arrived before Y/N could worry about making a fool of herself. Ashton kept his arm secured around her while ushering her to the kitchen with Calum. The rest trickled in until they were settled around a table that didn't set level with floor and chairs that creaked.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, why are you living with Uncle Ash?" Charlie Clifford asked, fondly setting next to his favorite teacher. "I mean, I'm not complaining if it gets me an A , but I have a responsibility to report the facts."

"Charlie, you were the school news reported one day and almost got suspended, leave your teacher alone." Y/N quite liked Michael and Crystal. She liked his entire family for that matter. It had been a long time since she sat at a table and felt she belonged there.

"It's okay, Charlie. I'm not living with your Uncle. I'm renting the apartment over the garage."

"And domesticating my pigs." Ashton teased before taking her hand and Cal's to bless dinner and wow she was fond.

During the week, they adopted a routine that switched dinner from each of their places. Wednesdays were interesting, as Y/N watched from her bedroom window while Ashton did yoga with his goats ("I'm telling you they make it better"). Friday's were a little odd, watching Y/N assault his blender making cocktails while watching cable news ("I've had a long week and our country's going to hell in a hand basket I deserve this").

Somewhere between Sunday dinners and Charlie's play or maybe it was after Luna's dance recital, Ashton wasn't sure. Regardless, at some point he forgot what life was like without her. That was scary in the beautiful way. He wanted more than what they had. So, he changed into his best flannel shirt and slicked his hair back. He cut flowers from his rose garden and put a little glitter on.

Marching right up the stairs to her apartment, he knocked upon entering. Poppy squealed from her pet bed zooming right for his legs. Y/N had taken off her heels by the door and was in the process of starting dinner when he touched her shoulder.

"I'd sure like to take you out tonight" Ashton paused, hazel eyes filled with affection, "and maybe kiss you. I'll walk you home after." He winked with a sparkly smile.

True to his word, Ashton took her out, asked and then kissed her, and walked her home the morning after. Things changed for the best. It wouldn't be long before Ashton would move her stuff in into the house with the intention of forever.

#Ashton Irwin imagines #aahton Irwin imagine #ashton Irwin blurb #ashton Irwin blurbs #5sos blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines #farmer!5sos #farmer!ashton #ashton Irwin au

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yo-la-gusanito · 5 years

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Broken (Hércules Mulligan x reader)

Words: 1988

Warnings: I speak Spanish for which my English is bad, so this story is written by the translator (telling this) so I am very sorry if something is not understood, pain, separation, pregnancy, deception, mention of SMUT.

I never thought this beautiful story would end like this.

"Love, really, you have to go to England as a spy," you say as you walk around the living room following your husband Hercules Mulligan.

"My life" he turns around and looks at you "everything will be fine and if something happens or you have any concerns do not hesitate to talk to my friends" he kisses you and he runs to the door and throws one of the many pictures of you breaking the glass.

He looks at you with serious fear, which gives you a warm smile.

"Calm down my love is only broken but still alive"

I regret it so much the day I gave you my heart without knowing what time you would break it later.

It is a warm summer day and you are in the park taking a walk with Hercules.

"You know you're one of the best things I had and will have" kisses your hand.

"You are so sweet, for this and other things are the reason why I love you.

Our wedding, God was one of the best days of my life ...

Hercules puts the engagement ring on your ring finger after you did the same.

"You can kiss the bride"

And in less than a second Hercules had hit his lips against yours.

Time passed quickly and in less than what a rooster sings he was already on his way to England and accompanied by this, from my side came some "rare" symptoms.

A week after Hercules left you get up in the middle of the night and run to the bathroom to drop all dinner, staying there for a long time.

(...)

A terrible cravings accompany you and with this your period is overdue and two weeks, on the advice of your mother you go to the doctor.

When I learned that something inside me grew, it was happiness and pain, the happiness was because I would be a mother, but on the other hand I knew that I would be alone during the whole process.

"You will tell Hercules about him or the little one" asks Eliza who accompanied you to the doctor.

"No, I just want him to keep doing what he likes ... if he likes it"

Everything was beautiful until the letter arrived ...

"Mrs. Mulligan, there is a good letter several letters from England," says Luci, a slave whom you consider your daughter.

You get up heavily from the couch where you are "from Hercules?" Questions.

"I'm afraid not, ma'am." She hands you the letters and helps you to sit back down on the couch and then leave.

You breathe heavily because the pregnancy was more difficult than expected but here you are rubbing your five month old belly.

When you open the letters you run out of words. They are letters from your husband but addressed to another woman telling that the nights they spent together were splendid, that she misses her body, she would like to escape from her house to form a family with her, among a million other things.

You start counting them with your eyes full of tears and there are more than twenty letters shared only in the last month, knowing that you open more new this month.

You leave the cards and cover your eyes while crying inconsolably no matter what others will say but it seems that everyone looks at you with concern.

"Something happens, ma'am," Mary asks another slave.

"Read the letters" you say as you point them with your trembling finger through spasms.

You're broken, everything he told you was a simple lie or truth, he said he missed you but he was happy to serve his homeland or just sleep with another woman, and telling him that he doesn't know of his son who may be born before he I arrived.

"I'm so sorry T / N," Luci says again as he leaves the cards.

Those stupid letters were the beginning of the end or rather my end.

Those letters arrived for two more months, accompanied by the letters of Hercules which seemed worried about not answering his letters.

"Madam, I think I could send you a letter saying she is alive at least," Luci says as she gives you a pen, inkwell and a sheet.

You sigh running your hand through your very bloated stomach and write.

Mulligan Hercules

I'm fine .

T / N Mulligan.

and deliver it to Luci while another slave enters the room with another round of cards.

I could not break those things little by little, a stupid paper was killing me little by little, so I decided to eliminate it ...

You put the bag full of all the letters that Hercules and you exchanged during their courtship, a few days before their wedding, and the current ones (before you will find out that they cheat you) along with those of the stranger who (would no longer be so unknown already Alexander sent them to you simply by changing some data to make it look like it comes from England). Being the last of these unopened because you already know that it would come.

The bonfire illuminates your entire room and without you noticing you throw a lot of cards while thousands of tears ran down your face.

You burned a large part of them but you left the first ones of when you found out that I was cheating you and you opened two at random to verify that they were still with that relationship and when confirming it you keep it in a drawer of yours to burn the rest again.

But ... no matter how broken I was, there were always good people who helped me during the baby's journey, and when the day came I swore to see the very stars for the pain suffered.

"Just push a little more Mrs. Mulligan," says the doctor.

You squeeze your mother's hand while giving your last strength and that's when you first saw the little one you wanted to see so much and here was John Mulligan.

Luckily the cards stopped and with John everything seemed rosy and he was everything to me it was my main step but something broke when I read a letter from Hercules.

My beloved T / N

I am so sorry for what I committed, it all began as a mission to blackmail the wife of a British high-ranking officer.

Things got out of hand and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD FORGIVE ME I slept with her, it wasn't just once but there were several.

But the bad things do not end there she wrote a few days ago saying that she is pregnant and to hide she told her husband that the son is his.

I don't know how you like this but I want you to know that in all the encounters with her I was thinking of you.

She loves You.

Always yours

Hércules Mulligan.

You remain silent reading the letter, you feel the tears on your face but these are not of sadness much less of shame but of fury.

You leave John for a moment in the room and go get a pen, inkwell and an hour. You go back to your desk and look at John to see that everything is fine and you start writing.

Mr. Mulligan.

To the great coincidence of not only having or expecting a child in England, you have one here for about two months.

With all due respect, fuck you.

The mother of your son who is going to have your last name.

T / N T / A.

"You think it's okay," you ask Luci.

She reads "if it's okay" after that she went from your room.

That was the last letter I received from him and from outside people I learned that he would return when the revolution is over.

Time went well with which I was armed little by little.

You are in the bathroom next to John who is playing with the foam of the bathtub while throwing some giggles when you splash it.

(...)

It is a stormy night to which you cannot fall asleep due to little John crying beside your bed in his crib.

You get up and carry the baby in your arms and with gentle movements you support the baby while walking around the great hallways of the house until his crying stops.

(...)

You find yourself trying to feed your baby while all slaves look closely as the baby stains you with porridge (he can already ingest something other than milk).

"This is harder than I thought" you grab a cloth and wipe your face.

"Well girl that's what it means to be a mother," says Gabi, the oldest of all slaves.

"Yes, I know" you grab the plate and the spoon again to try to feed the baby again.

(...)

His first flu had all the staff telling you worried to the point that everything literally everyone had to take turns sleeping and caring for the child.

When he recovered it was a relief. The whole place once again had its brightness granted by its little one.

And next to this came beautiful surprises.

You are preparing to go shopping with your baby, you put it in a cart and turn to go find your hat.

"M-mama"

You freeze and turn quickly to see your children babble frantically.

You call all helpers and all canceled departures.

Everything came beautiful I almost forgot about him but what made me remember him was always my little baby.

The revolution was a very important fact but with this time later someone brought to your home someone unwanted.

A noise is heard at the door to which Luci approaches to open it to meet with neither more nor less than with Hercules Mulligan.

"Mr. Mulligan-"

"Where is my wife" asks entering the house which I do not spend more than a year.

"In her room with little John" she covers her mouth when she realizes I name John.

Hercules does not think twice and is already climbing the stairs to what used to be his room.

When he opens the door he is stunned when he sees you finishing giving him milk from your chest.

You stare at him while holding your baby in his arms.

"He is-" he says with tears.

"If you" cut it "he is your son John Mulligan"

Hercules falls on his knees while crying and laments over everything he did.

You approach him and look at him for a long while as he laments about everything he has done.

"Hercules" he looks at you and you give him a neutral look "I don't know if I will forgive you to be your wife again ... but for now concentrate on spending time as your little son"

You duck and put your son in his arms, which snuggles instantly into your Hercules chest or what you thought was yours.

"It's beautiful" he cradles the baby while he grabs a finger while he sleeps.

You stay watching the scene feeling like everything inside you collapses again, knowing that if he hadn't joined the revolution he could be with his baby since he was born and you wouldn't have broken.

You let the tears run down your face, taking a few steps behind your husband as he gets up to go to bed the child.

"You must hate me"

"Since I received this" you approach the drawer and take out the cards that caused everything.

He is silent watching the drawer missing all the letters he wrote to you.

He tried to explain everything but it was already broken and a simple forgiveness would not remedy everything he did.

He just broke me and the broken glass no matter how you fix it will be visible cracks that will cause it to break again and again.

#hamiltime #alexander hamilton #hamilsquad #hamilton #hamiltrash #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fandom #hercules #Hércules Mulligan #x reader #english

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lichlairs · 4 years

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Checkout our new post over at https://lichlair.com/daily-monster-51-vampiric-mist

Daily Monster #51: Vampiric Mist

Our very first vampire!… at least technically, but considering how we had to cover an actual household item just a couple of entries back, I’ll definitely take it. Let’s see what this monster has in stores for us…

Vampiric Mist

The basics

All things considered, not bad stats for a CR 3 creature. We’re looking at matching +3 DEX and CON followed by a WIS of +1. Unfortunately, if you were looking to make use of any other stats why running this monster, you might not be able to do so considering their STR, INT, and CHA are all at a nice -2.

But let’s have a look at the Vampiric Mist’s durability. After all, that’s a pretty decent CON score, right? Well, not quite… this medium undead only has a hit point pool of 4d8+12 and an AC of 13. Thankfully though, their list of resistances and immunities does somewhat help with this since it does include resistances to Acid, Cold Lightning, Necrotic, Thunder, and non-magical weapon damages. You might have noticed that Fire isn’t part of the list, unfortunately, but the mist does have a single immunity to poison as well as several condition immunities.

As a last couple of points, the mist cannot speak nor communicate in any languages, has a passive perception of 11, and a hovering speed of 30ft.

Despite its low passive perception, today’s monster has a very specific feature called Life Sense which basically translates to knowing the location of any living creature within 60ft of it. Emphasis on living though, keep that bit in mind.

Like vampires in most movies, the mist also requires an invitation into a home before it is able to enter it as explained in their Forbiddance feature. Once that’s done, however, the smallest crack in a window frame will be enough for it to squeeze through thanks to its Misty Form. This ability also allows the mist to share a space with other creatures.

Although Radiant damage isn’t listed under vulnerabilities, the mist does suffer from Sunlight Hypersensitivity, which not only imposes disadvantage on rolls while in the sun, but also drains 10 hit points per turn.

The only attack available to this monster is its Life Drain. On a failed CON save, any creature that isn’t a construct or already undead takes 2d6+3 necrotic damage while our monster heals for the same amount. Once this damage is taken, the reduction lasts until the target takes a long rest. As with most similar abilities, if a creature is reduced to 0 hit points in this way, it immediately dies.

The lore

The Vampiric Mist has been a part of the world of Dungeons and Dragons ever since 1st edition, with only 4th edition omitting it from its rooster. To talk about today’s monster we need to take a quick look at what happens when a vampire is defeated; that is, once a vampire has taken enough damage or has been forced into the light for prolonged amounts of time, their body will simply turn into a fine mist that will (most likely) attempt to flee so that it can return to the vampire’s coffin, where it will promptly reform into a vampire again. Today’s monster, however, is what happens when a vampire is unable to return to its’ coffin upon death. Whether that be because our valiant adventurers have destroyed it or because something doesn’t permit them to return.

While most examples of vampires in media, Dungeons and Dragons included, present vampires as cunning and intelligent individuals that usually pose a big threat for the heroes, once these creatures have been reduced to their mist form they lose all of these qualities that make them so especial. Instead, they are purely driven by an insatiable hunger for blood.

Most common folk see no difference in the threat posed by a full vampire and a Vampiric Mist, however; to them, they are both just as deathly. And while most agree that these beings are what remains of vampires, there are other superstitious individuals who claim that these are the souls of innocents that had been turn into vampires or even simply evil Air Elementals that have been cast out of the Elemental Plane of Air.

Like sharks, it is said that these undead creatures can smell the scent of blood for miles and will be drawn to it like moths to a flame. While most Vampiric Mists choose to inhabit swamps and the like, the smell of blood is enough to have them relocate to more inhabited areas.

The execution

Look, call me basic, but I really love vampires and when I rolled for this one I just went ‘!!!’. The great news about this is that I already know exactly how I would set up an encounter with this creature. That said, I would probably choose to tweak a couple of things depending on the party’s level (stay tuned to the end of this section to find out which bits I’d change), but for now, let’s set the mood:

Exhausted from a day of hard travel across desolate swamps, the party spots what appears to be a small village in the distance. With the sunset behind them, they approach carefully, but begin to notice signs that something isn’t right; all lights are off, and the small streets are completely empty. Upon entering the town, it becomes clear that all townsfolk have shut themselves inside their homes, the sounds of moving furniture against the door and hushing tones from within the buildings.

As the party wanders the streets trying to figure out what’s going on, a door cracks open just wide enough for a single eye to be shown. A frazzled looking woman urges the party to come in before ‘it’ arrives. Reluctant, the group of adventures accept the invitation and follow her into the small home, only to watch from the window as a red mist begins to fill empty streets. Whilst watching, our adventurers question their hostess and learn that a vampire has been plaguing their village for the past few months. It comes every week and searches the whole village as if looking for something, until it eventually finds a victim to suck dry. Just as the woman finishes her explanation, a single shrill scream pieces the tense silence.

I think this could be a pretty sweet encounter to run for your players. Depending on how RP inclined they are, the investigation portion of it could be really cool. Perhaps they discover that the town was build over what used to be the vampire’s crypt and that now, unable to enter it without permission, the Vampiric Mist lurks in the area feeding off of the villagers.

Alternatively, what if your adventurers were to instead find the mist prowling an old cemetery not too far from town? Maybe they investigate the area and find a particularly eerie crypt that has been sealed with divine wards and keeps the Vampiric Mist away from its coffin. If the players were to fall for the temptation and dispel the seals, they might even end up fighting a full on vampire.

In terms of adjustments you might want to consider, I personally think a medium-sized mist just isn’t creepy enough; instead, I would either make it so that there’re several mists (maybe it’s a whole family of vampires!) or upsize the mist so that it becomes that much threatening. On a similar note, depending on the players’ levels, I would also consider making it so that the Life Drain save applies to any number of creatures within its space rather than a single creature.

As always, thank you very much for taking the time to read about my hardcore love of vampires. If you enjoyed this article and would like to be notified whenever we post a new one, do make sure to head over to our social media where you can click that follow button, so we can let you know when we post new stuff. We have new articles every day of the week!

#Daily Monster #dnd #dnd5 #dnd5e #dndbeyond #dungeons and dragons #Behind the Screen

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topfygad · 5 years

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Ingesting our way close to Vital West, Florida

A person of my favorite methods to understand a vacation spot is by simply just having the community delicacies. I mean who doesn’t get pleasure from having a gastronomic tour the place you get to stroll, speak, consume and drink your way via an area’s best places to eat, bars and culinary institutions?

Critical West Meals Excursions are one of the best-acknowledged food tour groups in the Florida Keys. They supply three principal food stuff and drink excursions all-around Critical West. But their Southernmost Food items Tour is the greatest excursion you can do if you want to consume like a regional and get a full knowledge of the island’s food stuff lifestyle.

In fifty percent an hour of arriving into Key West, we have been at Siboney Restaurant in which we ended up completely ready to meet our Important West foods tour information, Analise Smith.

Analise has Cuban heritage in her relatives so she was effectively qualified to teach us on the Cuban foodstuff scene in Essential West.

The Southernmost Meals Tour: Feeding on our way close to Critical West, Florida

El Siboney, Key West

El Siboney is a single of the most renowned Cuban dining places right here and has come to be anything of an establishment considering that it opened in 1984. You will discover El Siboney in the Old City and it is an unassuming purple brick developing, nonetheless continuously attracts in the crowds for its authentic Cuban cooking.

So, if you want to take in right here, critically contemplate reserving in advance.

The Southernmost Food Tour lasts three hours, but there is a whole lot of taking in to do. So Analise doesn’t mess about.

When our food stuff was becoming well prepared, she gave us a crash-class in how to drink Cuban espresso and the numerous approaches you can purchase it.

There’s the Cafecito or Café Cubano (served in a thimble-sized cup), a Café con leche (espresso with steamed milk), a Cortadito (served with a very small splash of steamed milk) or the Bucci (a strong shot of espresso that’s served with cane sugar.)

If there is additional than a single of you, you can go with the tradition of purchasing a Colada which is in essence an additional-large cup of the sweet Bucci, which you then share among a number of folks in the thimble-sized cups (see image underneath.)

Yet another Cuban tradition is also to order the ridiculously additional-ish pan Cubano (Cuban bread) and dunk it in your drink. Delish.

Cubans have a very sweet tooth, or as Analise claims, they are ‘sweet freaks’. So introducing sugar to the espresso is a given. If they talk to you whether or not you’d sugar, they’re really asking if you’d like even more sugar than what they instantly set in.

So you could be bouncing off the walls following tasting this. You have been warned!

The foods dish we try at El Siboney is the vintage roast pork, or Cuban Puerco Asadoas it’s recognised. If you read through my overview of Versailles in Miami, you will know that BC tried out a dish like this there. However, I have to say, this a single was tastier. It was served with white rice, fried plantain and a squeeze of contemporary lime, with a incredibly hot sauce on the facet. Delicious.

It was time to go on.

Badboy Burrito

Badboy Burrito, our up coming quit, is a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and bar. It’s below you’ll choose up what are arguably, the most effective tacos and ‘build-your-own’ burritos in Critical West. The extended queue claims it all.

It is a no-frills variety of position, so you pull up a chair outdoors, get a chilled consume and prepare to get your fingers messy. The Southernmost Foods Tour very encouraged we tried the fish taco. And for superior explanation. They’re designed utilizing ‘tile fish’, which are a single of the most sustainable fish you can consume in the Florida Keys.

Numerous persons are still unaware of this additional ‘environmentally friendly’ alternative of fish. And when I’d say it’s not bursting with flavour, it was surely livened up by the salsa verde, sour cream and cilantro. The govt chef at Badboy Burrito is really passionate about using the freshest components. So considerably so, they don’t even have freezers. You can warranty on ocean-to-plate top quality and you cannot beat the name both.

A bit of history and lifestyle

In in between all the having, Crucial West Food items Tours will make positive they fill you in on the a lot of cultural and historic spots of fascination you go on the way. On the Southernmost Meals Tour, Analise regaled us with all kinds of tales about Key West’s cigar-building record, the ‘shotgun houses’ in which factory employees lived, as well as the stories at the rear of the quite a few quirky retailers and properties you’ll obtain on the island, these types of as the Tomasita Seafood store.

Many thanks to its proximity to the Caribbean, Vital West was a big player in rum importation, even during America’s prohibition period.

And just after all our strolling, Analise determined it was time for a tipple – which takes us on to one of the island’s most well-known speakeasies, The Rum Bar.

The Rum Bar

I’m a huge admirer of rum, so it was a little disappointing that I was unable to make the most of this little bit, staying six months pregnant! But whether you’re consuming alcohol or not, The Rum Bar is an intriguing place to check out. You are sure to meet up with a quirky character or two.

You’ll find The Rum Bar on Essential West’s famous Duval Road and it was at first owned by a gentleman referred to as Raul Vaquez, who was a cigar selector at the island’s famed Gato cigar manufacturing facility.

They stock an impressive 250+ sorts of rum, which you can of training course sample straight, or in one of their a lot of basic cocktails.

Seemingly Vaquez’s true enthusiasm was functioning as a ‘rum runner’ concerning Important West and the Caribbean. The sector turned so in-need, they established a ‘rum row’ – a three-mile route concerning Crucial West and Bermuda the place ‘rum runners’ travelled back again and forth.

So it only appeared correct that on the Southernmost Meals Tour, the team attempted the synonymous Rum Runner cocktail – a combine of white and dark rum, banana, blackberry, grenadine, OJ, pineapple and sours. Meanwhile, Analise kindly requested me a Rum Runner sans alcohol.

Livened up and all set to go, our next prevent on the Key West Food stuff Tour was the Bahama Village, one of my favourite regions of Key West and where by the majority of Crucial West’s Caribbean community settled.

Analise crammed us in on the background of the colourful clapboard houses and stopped by important points of desire such as the significantly-loved Rick Value mural….

…and the family members property of famous trumpeter Theodore “Fats” Navarro.

But our future halt on the Southernmost Food items Tour was one more Crucial West institution, Blue Heaven.

Blue Heaven

If you are ever in Critical West, this is in all probability the restaurant I’d propose as a great all-rounder. Positioned in just a leafy yard, comprehensive with roaming roosters and a rooster cemetery (they like their roosters below), an out of doors bar and quirky knick-knacks, it is packed with that Bohemian appeal you will come across in several components of Crucial West…

…and they serve a Critical Lime Pie which is to die for.

As you are going to study on this gastronomic journey, Key Lime Pie is a typical Important West dessert and there are all sorts of variants in how it’s served.

In this article at Blue Heaven, we tried using it in miniature form, comprising of a delicious biscuit foundation and a tangy lime filling topped with a pillow-delicate meringue.

They were so tooth-achingly sweet, these cute minimal miniatures ended up far more than plenty of. If you are eager to attempt the many variants of this neighborhood treat, head to the several Vital Lime Pie stores and factories in the Outdated City and sample them all!

We headed again to Blue Heaven for a good brunch a couple of days later and I’d remarkably advocate a visit.

Mangoes

Mangoes is extra of a mainstream bar and cafe you will discover on Duval Road. But its indoor-outdoor really feel and good cocktail bar vibe absolutely make it worthy of viewing. As we discovered on the food tour, it’s also a fantastic place to sample a different culinary staple, conch.

Conch is the sea snail you will find in abundance in Critical West. It’s also what lots of individuals however nickname them selves below soon after the tongue-in-cheek motion in 1982 which saw Crucial Westers form a micronation dubbed the ‘Conch Republic’.

These squidgy molluscs are usually utilised to make ceviche and chowder but you are going to also find them shallow-fried, or deep fried to make fritters. At Mangoes, they have been served as fritters with a mouth watering aioli created utilizing the community Important Lime.

They’re fantastic as a tasty snack and style even greater when enjoyed in the sunshine, with a refreshing beer.

Aspect note: Component foods child, portion genuine infant escalating in my tummy listed here..

Important West Distilling

Our final stop on the Southernmost Food items Tour was Critical West Distilling, a compact distillery on Southard Avenue that generates craft spirits, rums, vodkas, gin and whiskey.

Yet again, I experienced to scent somewhat than flavor, but Analise provided an attention-grabbing introduction into their exceptional distilling processes, the means they develop the oak flavours and the a variety of substances and spices that are made use of below.

If you’re brave sufficient, you will consider the overproof rum which has a mighty 76.5% alcohol content. Or probably you’ll sample the horseradish vodka?

Either way, it was a fantastic close to a superb tour with Important West Food stuff Tours.

I’m so happy we did the Southernmost Food items Tour as shortly as we arrived into Important West. It presented a wonderful introduction to the island, it taught us a ton about the Florida Keys society and we left with a prolonged checklist of recommendations on places to eat and consume, which is never a bad point.

The Southernmost Foods Tasting & Cultural Strolling Tour charges from $75 for grown ups and $49 for kids aged 12 and under. You can locate out a lot more about Vital West Food items Excursions on Facebook, instagram, twitter and via their web site.

Find out much more about the Florida Keys and Crucial West by using the Florida Keys and Essential West Vacationer Board.

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renaroo · 7 years

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The Search (3/16)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence, Psychological manipulation and trauma Rating: T Synopsis: [Canon Divergence - Alternate S15] The Reds and Blues saved Chorus, but it has been a year and they are still missing. A motley crew has been gathered with the common goal of finding the war heroes, though the road is more troubled than anyone seems to realize.

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this chapter. I had a blast with it and while I apologize for taking vacation last week so missing all of my fic updates, I hope that this chapter more than makes up for it!

Special thanks to @secretlystephaniebrown, @analiarvb, @notatroll7, @run-a-goth-chick, @illumynare, Yin, CabooseIsTheBest, EasilyDistractedBookworm, and a wonderful guest for the comments and feedback!

I’d also like to note there was a not so wonderful guest who liked to point out last week that there wasn’t an update. Sorry you weren’t aware of my vacation last week. But generally, yes, schedules are difficult to keep. Thank you for noticing.

All According to Plan

Carolina knew she was taking a risk by bringing along a civilian without any vetting — especially one who reported news for a living. But what she understood and what Wash and the others seemed to be missing was the simple fact that what they had been doing for the past several months wasn’t working.

They needed a change in strategy. A change in plans. A change in something.

And maybe a reporter honed in on their case just happened to be that missing piece.

“I know, I know,” Andrews was saying through the ship’s scrambled communicator. “Just trust me when I say I’m onto something. A real story that will knock everyone’s socks off.”

“You’re killing me, Dylan,” the voice on the other end groaned. “Do you know what strings I’m pulling for you and you don’t even have the decency to have the GPS on this phone call? The stones I’ll be pissing out because of this are coming directly out of your paycheck!”

“Noted and… gross, Sir. For the record,” she insisted.

“Alright. Jesus. Fuck. Killing me. Fine,” the man continued to snap on the line.

Involuntarily, Carolina glanced toward Washington and Grey to get a read on their reactions. Wash seemed flustered and confused but attentive toward the conversation. Grey looked indifferent, with her arms crossed on her chest and her knee over the other, but there was that typical sharpness to her expression — she was taking in and evaluating each and every word.

“Sent your clearance information to your inbox,” the man finally informed their resident reporter. “Don’t do anything stupid with it, Dylan. It’s not just your reputation at stake here. It’s the whole organizations! Jesus. Just saying that gave me the galaxy’s worst bout of indigestion.”

“Maybe you should try a change in diet,” Andrews responded. “Or… a trial of diazepam.”

“Funny,” the man spat back before the line went dead.

Relieved to finally be done with that diatribe, Carolina leaned in closer to where the reporter was standing. She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at Andrews and tightly gripped her knee. “Did you get it?” she asked fiercely.

“Patience is a virtue, Agent Carolina,” Andrews responded, turning to face her.

“One I never could afford,” Carolina replied wryly.

They stared at each other for a moment, surprised by how the other kept up with the fast quips.

Which simply gave Kaikaina an opportunity to lean back far enough against the pilot’s seat that her head was able to hang upside down and face them. “Oh my god. Is that sexual tension? Are you having sexual tension back there without me? What. The. Eff. Like actual what. The. Eff. When I try to have sexual tension with anything on this ship it’s always this isn’t the time or place, Little Grif. It’s the same goddamn time and the same goddamn place, and you know what? The steering column is still shaped like a dildo!”

Carolina scoffed. “Sexual tension? Little Grif, you’ve never seen my actual game.”

“How does a quick correspondence translate to any sort of tension, let alone of the… erotic variety?” Andrews asked, still innocent from a life of limited exposure to Grifs and Tuckers of the world.

“It doesn’t,” Wash clarified before putting his full attention on Kaikaina. “Private Grif, I told you that when you are navigating the ship you’re supposed to pay attention and not steer us into an astroid field and explode. Or worse!”

The yellow armored young woman snarled in return. “Oh my god, I told you to stop back seat copping, COP!”

Seeing that the fighting was going to progress just by how red Wash’s face was already getting, Carolina snapped her fingers at him to bring his attention back to the real matter at hand. “We have more important shit to worry about, Wash. Leave Kai alone.”

“You say that every time like it isn’t always her starting shit.” Wash grumped, folding his arms.

“I agree with Agent Carolina,” Grey spoke up, after a period of uncharacteristic silence. Her attention was fully on Andrews. “I believe that there has plenty enough time for a data package of the size a news clearance would predictably be to reach any of your personal devices, Miss Andrews. I can’t speak for everyone, but I certainly would be put to ease if this matter was cleared up and we were confirmed for the next step of our voyage.”

Emily’s tone was crisp and high in a way that sounded full of ulterior meaning and threat. Carolina was impressed and worried by it. Her distrust of the reporter they had joined up with seemed very beyond her. But at the same time, tension — of the nonsexual variety — had been high ever since their team had been thrown together with the united and difficult purpose of finding the Reds and Blues.

Of finding… their family.

And knowing that it could mean alive and well or not that at all.

“Yes, well, thank you for reminding me,” Andrews said, pulling out the tablet she had brought with her from her apartment. “And yes. We definitely have clearance to approach the UNSC battleship Gokstad.”

“Which we’re certain was the last location of Hargrove on UNSC record?” Washington double checked.

“Yes,” Andrews replied.

Junior, who was swaying uncomfortably in a seat that was most definitely not constructed with Sangheili in mind, let out a series of long honks and growls between clattering teeth.

“Yeah,” Kai said, not bothering to lean back again and instead keeping her full attention on the cosmos ahead of them. “What the eff kinda name is Gooksteed for a ship? Makes me wanting to name this ship the Fat Clit almost more cool than it was already.”

“Goksted,” Andrews corrected. “It’s—“

“The name comes from a Norse viking ship of legend dated back to the ninth century literature Gokstadskipet,” Grey interrupted, earning a pair of shared glances from Carolina and Wash. “Goksted, like most of the resurrected Marathon-class heavy cruisers brought back into working order and manufacturing after the appointment of Malcolm Hargrove to the Chairman of the Oversight Committee, follow a naming pattern of legendary ships within Norse literature. This was meant to champion a new purpose of use in the Naval efforts of the last years of the Human-Covenant War as an offensive maneuver rather than the traditional defensive, hence using the cruisers for raiding parties in Covenant territory. Of course, the overwhelming size and poor fuel conservation were what had caused the ship class’ decommission in the first place, thus the only real benefit to manufacturing these gigantic warships again in a time where the War was finally turning toward peace would be to impose an intimidating image of the military and to increase spending toward the companies like Charon Industries which constructed the ships for profit.”

After Grey’s interruption, an uncomfortable silence overcame the ship. It was only broken by Kaikaina releasing a low whistle and turning back to her driving.

“Doctor Grey…” Washington began to say worriedly only to stop when Carolina shook her head at him.

“I want to see how far this will go,” Carolina explained to him. “It could be the closest we get to entertainment on this flight since Miss Andrews can’t seem to tell us when we’ll have clearance.”

“I can tell you right now,” the reporter informed them, bringing up her tablet. “I have it right now set up and ready to feed into the HUD of the ship whenever we get closer to the Goksted.”

Kai punched into the air. “Awesome! ‘Cuz we’re here, and it’d be really fucking awkward if we didn’t have a pass when they beamed us in.”

“We’re not going to be beamed in, that’s Star Trek,” Washington argued. “The entire ship will be pulled into a side port hangar by a tractor beam. It’ll pull us directly in. That’s Star Wars. I had to listen to your brother, Simmons, and Tucker argue about this for about a month in the middle of a jungle.”

As soon as the ship jarred and relinquished control to the tractor beam, Kai flipped around in her chair, sitting on her knees so as to lean over and get more in Wash’s face. “You’re such a fake nerd boy, oh my fucking gawd. There are tractor beams in Star Trek, too! The fucking Borgs used them, asshole! Don’t gatekeep me when all you know are comments from other douchebags on the internet!”

“One of those douchebags was your brother!” Wash pointed out angrily.

Almost immediately, Junior began clattering his teeth loudly as if to join into the chaos and send their small crew into more disarray before even getting to the heart of the enemy’s ship. It was something that was amusing, but not that Carolina could stand for much longer given the circumstances.

Standing up, Carolina brought everyone’s attention back around to her.

“Alright, enough’s enough. Everyone stop goofing off and get ready for assignment,” she announced.

Wash’s mouth was still hanging open in preparation for a retort toward Kaikaina, but he snapped it closed and nodded before putting on his helmet. “You’ve got it, Boss,” he said with a nod.

The motion was enough to bring everyone else into a similar state, putting on helmets and straightening up with full attention on Carolina.

Otherwise, the complete opposite of what Carolina had become accustomed to among the Reds and Blues. And that thought alone was enough to make her wince, though no one seemed to take note of it.

“Alright, Andrews, go ahead and feed that code into the HUD and give any other copies of credential information over to Little Grif. She’s going to be manning the ship,” Carolina ordered.

Andrews hesitated only for a moment before moving toward the console. “Right. Of course.”

“More like manhandling the ship,” Kai snorted.

“Bow chicka honk honk!” Junior called out, unbuckling his seat.

Carolina held up a hand to stop the youngest member of the team in his tracks. “I’m sorry, Junior, but you still need to stay on the ship,” she explained. In return, Junior let out a series of growls and clicks. Then a blargh or two for good measure. “You’re the most conspicuous member of the group. Sight of an alien onboard a UNSC vessel of this importance will cause a stir. Best for you to keep a low profile for the time being. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He flung himself back into his seat with a snort and crossed his arms petulantly.

“Wash, you’re staying to guard these three,” Carolina said firmly. “I need you to be in charge and maintain radio contact with myself and Grey. Use frequency Tango-Foxtrot-Romeo-Romeo-Won-Too-Too.”

“Holy shit, that’s a long codeword, can’t we just use Vag1Fartz like normal people?” Kaikaina begged.

“No, and this is why Wash is in charge of maintaining radio contact,” Carolina responded flatly.

“Why am I not going with you?” Washington demanded.

“Because we need someone I trust here to keep the ship running, and you are very recognizable in your personalized armor, Agent Washington of the Reds and Blues,” she reminded him.

“And you’re not?” Wash scoffed.

Carolina couldn’t help herself but smirk before activating her camouflage unit, near instantly shifting her aqua armor to a white with teal trim. “I’m just a bodyguard for our resident reporter. And Doctor Grey is…” Carolina paused and looked over to Emily, everyone else joining her glance.

Grey stared back.

“She’s in white armor, too,” Carolina decided on before looking to Wash. “Those enough excuses for you?”

“No,” Washington answered honestly.

“I wouldn’t expect it to be,” Carolina sighed before putting her hands on her hips and looking directly at her partner. “We’re going to find them. This is just another step, like all the others we’ve had so far. You can trust my instincts on this.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Wash said, though the conviction could have used some work.

Something to banter about at another time, perhaps.

With a deep breath, Carolina pointed toward Andrews and Doctor Grey then motioned toward the door. “Alright, ladies, we’re here to act covert. Andrews, you have most of the talking since you’re our ticket into this place. I expect that there’s guards waiting to lead us off our ship just outside so I say let’s meet them with our best bets.”

“Right,” Andrews said, pulling her pad closer to her chest and heading toward the exit.

Doctor Grey looked at Carolina intently. “Are we certain that they aren’t expecting anything out there?” she asked lowly — or at least what was low for Emily.

“Why should they? It’s a news interview. They don’t have reason to be defensive toward Dylan,” Carolina answered, walking with the doctor to the exit. “Do they?”

“Hm,” she hummed in return, not even looking Carolina’s way. “I suppose you aren’t very familiar with her body of work or critical lens toward any sort of possible government corruption.”

“And you know?” Carolina asked almost cheekily.

“Of course I know, Carolina,” she replied, finally looking Carolina’s way. “Oh, and Carolina? Dylan?”

Carolina shrugged. “We’re on first name basis. I figure agreeable mutual kidnapping gets us to that point.”

“Hm,” Grey hummed again before going quiet as they reached the lowered platform of the ship’s exit and stood just behind Andrews.

If Carolina didn’t know better she’d almost think Grey was jealous rather than concerned. But, then again, she had spent days packed in a ship with a young woman who could make innuendos from literally anything in her vicinity. So she was probably inoculated to human reason anymore.

“And who are these?” one of the guards asked, nodding to Carolina and Grey as the other inspected Andrews’ clearances.

“My body guard and my personal assistant,” Andrews answered. “When traveling through H.Y.P.D.E. territories with classified U.M.L. codebreaking skills it’s best to keep things F.Y.I. including personal security detail.”

Carolina and Grey glanced at each other then back to Andrews. The Freelancer was beginning to doubt her decision in allowing Andrews to be the one to speak off the cuff.

The guards glanced to each other and then back to the three of them. “Uh… right… If you’ll follow us this way, Miss Andrews.”

“Thank you,” she answered, walking confidently behind them as they were led out of the hangar.

Carolina kept close in step with the reporter, glancing her over suspiciously. “What the hell was all that you were listing off back there?” she whispered.

“Acronyms,” Andrews replied readily. “I find that low level military types love them, but rarely assess them. You’d be surprised how well placed acronyms can smooth over any sort of confusion in a crunch with soldiers.”

“That doesn’t explain why you would list me as some sort of personal assistant,” Grey replied, clearly offended.

“It was the only nice thing that came to mind,” Andrews replied snidely. “Though, of course, I could start getting more inventive if we keep this up for much longer.”

“I fail to see what’s more outlandish than the idea that I, Doctor Emily Grey, would be an ambulance chaser’s butt monkey,” Grey scoffed.

“Butt monkey?” Andrews repeated almost in disbelief.

“We’ve all spent an incredibly long amount of time in the company of immaturity at its rawest form,” Carolina attempted to excuse Grey. “Now, if we could remain quiet we look like we’re coming to a stop at the end of this hallway.”

The other women looked ahead as, sure enough, the hall came to an end at a large, open office door where their two guiding guards were already standing in posting at the sides of the doors. It had been a much shorter walk than what the outside of the ship had trained Carolina to expect. Though, having lived on the Mother of Invention for as long as she had, she wasn’t sure why that surprised her.

Grey seemed significantly more flustered, however.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Andrews said before stepping into the office.

Carolina followed without pause, but Grey was very deliberate in being a half step behind them both. Her head was still moving from side to side warily.

“Emily?” Carolina asked worriedly.

“This is wrong,” Grey whispered in hushed yet still very loud tones. “This is a Marathon class vessel—“

“Named after a viking ship, yes we all heard your expertise on the subject earlier, Doctor. Very impressive,” Andrews said, inspecting the office with more curiosity and openness. “Please remember to let me do the talking when the Charon representative meets us in here—“

“No, shut up!” Grey snapped.

“Emily,” Carolina said, a bit aghast.

Doctor Grey waved toward the ceiling. “This is a Marathon class vessel with over two hundred thousand meters of compartmentalized habitable space. All of which would be on the upper decks accessible by elevator or stair transit only and never on the same level as the hangar bays and disposal shoots which are susceptible to decompressed air pockets and unsustained zero gravity with low oxygen levels during hyperspace warping! This is not an office!”

Immediately, Carolina reached for her sidearms.

“What are you insinuating?” Andrews asked just before the ‘office’ doors slammed shut behind them and a gas began to fill the room with a resounding hiss.

“It’s a trap!” Grey announced. She then looked directly at Carolina. “Please inform Agent Washington that he has won this argument with Private Grif considering this would be counted as a definite Prequels moment.”

“I don’t give a shit about the Wars versus Treks argument!” Carolina announced before reaching to the side of her helmet to switch on her frequency. “Wash, it’s a bust, we’ll be coming in hot in exactly two minutes!”

“Already?” he asked critically. “That was the worst undercover job. Ever. Of all—“

“Hold that thought,” Carolina announced before backing up. “Ladies, this is a lot of equipment in here just looking pretty at us, mind seeing if this isn’t a complete waste of our time while I kick down this door?”

“It should allow us at least some access to the ship’s files. Which should be scrubbed clean by now if they suspected something from us, but I can still give it a try through my tablet,” Andrews offered, racing to the computer and then stopping.

“What are you waiting on?” Grey demanded.

“I’ve… never done anything like this before, maybe my tablet’s incompatible—“

Carolina reached to her helmet again. She could hear gunfire on Wash’s end. “Wash, move that table up to three minutes.”

“I can’t make promises,” Wash answered through what Carolina imagined was the same gritted teeth expression he got when he was concentrating at target practice.

“Oh, move,” Grey hissed, grabbing the tablet from Andrews and looking around. “One of my doctorates happens to be in computer science.”

Andrews stood back and gave the doctor a skeptical look before before, to her astonishment, the room began to light up green and the doors opened as the tablet also began to glow a soft blue. “How…”

The two guards who had attempted to lead them to their doom stood outside of the door with shock. “What the fuck—“

“Dude, they’re not dead yet!?”

Carolina smirked and dropped her camouflage as she reached for her helmet again. “Scratch that, Wash. Give us one minute. And tell Little Grif to be ready to bust out of here.”

“You sound happy to have a completely botched mission,” Washington said suspiciously.

“I’m learning to be more… flexible in the name of fun,” Carolina said, putting back her sidearms to the surprise of the guards just before using her speed boost to launch herself at them. One got off a shot of his rifle, but it hit the floor and ricocheted into the other one, causing him to leap back with a yowl of pain. Carolina followed the kicked that had redirected the gun with another roundhouse to the jawline of the shooting party that sent him into the ceiling.

Still on her pivot foot, Carolina spun to the second guard and delivered three direct hits with her palms to his chest, shoulder, and then visor that sent him to the floor.

It wasn’t her best time, but she supposed that even perfect could take it easy for a day.

By the time Carolina looked back, Dylan Andrews’ full attention was on her.

“That… was mightily impressive, Agent,” she said formally though not without awe.

“Her form was off from what I’ve come to expect considering the amount of training she puts into the gym back on Chorus,” Doctor Grey answered, still working away at the tablet and computer. “Of course, you remember Chorus, Miss Andrews. I believe you wrote a smear piece about us little less than seven months ago.”

“Is that what this has been about? An editorial I did?” Andrews asked critically. “And just what are you putting on my tablet?” She reached for the tablet but failed as Grey was quick to swipe it away from her reach and then unhook it from the wall.

“Carolina, we are good to go,” Grey informed her before heading out the door.

For a moment, Carolina took the time to look almost apologetically toward the reporter.

“I didn’t mean to start a grudge with some doctor from a space colony I had barely heard of before a year ago,” Andrews answered. “Is this going to make the rest of this trip miserable?”

“Only if I can’t convince Wash that allowing Little Grif play filthy synth music rather than letting Doctor Grey put on her opera recordings is for the greater good of the team,” Carolina answered. “Come on.”

They both took off behind Grey, ignoring the blaring alarms and lights of the ship they had managed to piss off in a very short amount of time.

“You are all very strange people, I hope you realize,” Andrews marveled.

Despite herself, Carolina grinned beneath her helmet. “Wait until you meet our friends.”

Wash had managed to press the soldiers in the hangar back into hiding behind columns and other ships docked while still standing only partially covered at the ship’s ramp. He looked up as the three of them came running in the ship’s direction and fired a few last cover shots as Carolina came back from the rear.

“That was more than one minute,” Wash said, punching the button to lift the ramp as they fled inside the ship. “Also, this is exactly like—“

“Grey is siding with you in the Star debate,” Carolina said.

“Did you hear that?” Wash yelled across the ship, only to be given the bird from their pilot.

“Fuck off, cop. I don’t need you policing my fandom space. Fuck you and fuck the coppy privilege you walk on!” Kai screamed at him before settling in her seat and looking forward. “Wait. Did y’all just run in here without taking down the shields? This is why Trekkies can’t be fans with you Warheads. No sense of strategy.”

“Don’t presume too much, Private,” Grey half-sang, still clutching the blue glowing tablet.

“Bow chicka honk honk!” Junior cooed.

“Okay, you’re too young for that. Stop it,” Wash said flatly.

Grey pressed the tablet and, to everyone’s astonishment, the hangar’s shield lifted, immediately sending the hangar into zero g’s.

“Holy shit,” Kai declared before pulling up the suddenly useless landing gears and taking control of the ship. “How’re you doing that, Doctor Hot?”

“Easy enough,” Grey replied with a laugh. “Everyone, I would like to introduce the newest member of our group and the next step to finding our lost compatriots.” She turned the tablet around so that an orbiting eyelike image looked to them.

“Hello. I am the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System. You may call me. FILSS. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“FILSS!?” Carolina and Wash both gasped out at once.

“Acronyms. I knew it,” Andrews muttered.

Taking a deep breath, Carolina smiled and looked at Wash’s stunned expression. When she finally got his attention, she smirked larger and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “How’s that for a botched mission?” she asked.

“We’re going to find them,” Wash realized out loud.

“We’re going to find them,” Carolina assured him.

#writing #rvb fic #RvB: The Search #Agent Carolina #Dylan Andrews #Agent Washington #Kaikaina Grif #Emily Grey #Tucker Junior #AI: FILSS

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adambstingus · 6 years

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20+ Of The Most Unbelievably Smart Things Pets Have Done That Surprised Their Owners

Our pets are so precious to us, they are far more than just animals that we look after and have around for company. They become our best friends, and part of the family. Although it’s very easy to bond emotionally with our pets, sharing a cuddle or playing games together will do that, being on the same wavelength intellectually is less common.

Sure, you can train your dog, hamster or rat to be obedient, (cats too, but that may prove to be a little more difficult!) but what we have here are true geniuses, unique personalities that go far beyond what we would imagine from an animal!

This list, compiled by Bored Panda, is about those times when animals have surprised us with their intelligence. When people were able to understand just what their pets were thinking, and communicate with them on a higher level! Scroll down to check them out for yourself, and feel free to share your own articulate animals stories in the comments below!

This is a completely true story. Weird, but true, and shows a really impressive level of intelligence in my cat. It happened when I was a teenager.

I’m sitting on the couch, and my cat walks into the room and starts meowing loudly, but not coming to me. So I stand up and go toward him, and he starts walking away, so I follow. He leads me, meowing the whole way and looking back to make sure I’m following, to the bathroom. Weird, right? Just wait.

So we’re in the bathroom, and he hops up on the toilet and, get this, he PEES IN IT. I was floored. One, he peed in the toilet. Like a person. He’d never done that before. It’s impressive that he knew what a toilet was for. But two, he brought me there to show me. Why? This is where the real intelligence comes into it.

Well, he stops peeing and turns to look into the toilet and then looks at me. So I look in the toilet. It’s full of blood. He had a terrible kidney infection (as the vet later confirmed), and this is how he told me.

Think of all the things he had to understand to do this!! He had to know he was sick and in which part of his body the infection was. He had to know that the bathroom was the place where I deal with the part of my body that matches up with his sick part. He had to know what a toilet was for and how to use it. And he knew that if I understood the problem, I’d be able to fix it.

Seriously, that cat was incredible.

We used to have a cockatoo, as well as some cats and dogs.

We were teaching the dogs some tricks, and the cockatoo was just doing his bird thing. Every day, the same routine: get some treats, call the dogs, sit, stay, lay down, roll over, get a treat, etc.

One night we were watching TV and hear the cockatoo call the dog by name. “Sit. Stay. Lay down. Roll over. Good Boy”. We heard something hit the floor, and then he called out the next dog’s name.

Walked into the kitchen to find the cockatoo in the spot we always stand, giving orders to the dogs (who were obeying!), and then pulling treats out of the cup and dropping them on the floor. This went on for some time.

Dogs now liked the cockatoo, and would let him ride on their backs. Cockatoo would call them, tell them to lay down, would climb on, and ride around like a king.

The dogs knew what’s up, would walk to the kitchen, and stand by the counter. Cockatoo would hop up and drop them a treat, say “good boy”, and hop back on.

Funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

I am diabetic and one night I fell on my carpet from weakness and disorientation. My beloved dog, who now rests in Heaven, brought my emergency kit from my bathroom counter so I could take my medication.

Just writing this post brought tears to my eyes.

I will always remember you Bumper.

My cat yawned, so I stuck a finger in his mouth. He sort of stared at my curiously as he shut his mouth, but didn’t bite down hard. A few minutes later, he’s sitting on my chest and I yawn. He proceeds to put his whole paw in my mouth.

When was I was young my family moved a long distance with two pets, a cat and a dog. My mom said that cats can try to run off to find home after a move so we had a cat collar with a long leash to hold her while we were unloading the trailers. I heard my Australian Shepherd bark twice on the back porch. Abby NEVER barked unless something was serious. I ran back there and my cat had run around a chair many times and then jumped off the chair with not enough room on leash to be on ground and was hanging there choking. When I rounded the corner Abby was trying to chew through the leash. Best dog ever. Both cat and dog lived long happy lives.

I witnessed this with my uncle’s dog. My uncle was lying on the couch and she was lying on his feet and legs. He let out a huge fart which was aimed directly at her face. She lifted her head and glared at him and he started laughing. She got up and walked away in disgust. A few minutes later she came back, jumped up on his chest, stuck her butt in his face and farted on him and walked away. I laughed so hard I cried and gave her so many treats.

First Christmas we had our cat she saw us handing out presents and opening them and abruptly ran off. About twenty minutes later she comes back with a dead bird and dropped it in the present pile. It’s uh definitely the thought that counts?

I had the best dog ever. One night I was fast asleep and he was gently “biting” my hand just enough to wake me up. Once I woke up he started tugging on it as if to say, follow me. It was so weird. SO I follow him and he leads me to the side door or my house, sits facing the door and barks ever so silently. I then realize someone is outside picking the lock. I called 911. It was a drunk guy, no idea what his intentions were once he got in, but my dog for some reason managed to get him arrested. He probably would have been scared away had my dog just barked, but for some reason the old boy wanted to alert me quietly.

When I was an infant, I was in my crib next to my parents bed. I somehow got twisted up and started suffocating in my blanket. This cat jumped on my mom’s face until she woke up, then jumped into my crib. Had it not been for her, I would have died.

My golden retriever leaves a shoe on the bed, without fail, for my wife or I to find if we are both gone at the same time. My theory is that she did it once, and we came home, so now she does it every time we leave to ensure that we come back. Like a doggy superstition.

After doing this for years, my wife had to leave the state for a week. My first day back from work, there was a shoe on the bed. Normal. After my second day back (wife is still gone), there were three shoes on the bed. After my third day returning from work alone, every shoe and boot in the house was laid out on the bed and couches, and all of my wife’s dirty socks were in a bowl.

It may not be the smartest thing she’s ever done, but it really made me think about how she thinks.

When I was a kid, we had two dogs: a Pyrenean Shepherd, and a Labrador Retriever. The Retriever was a goofy idiot, but the Shepherd was smart.

One day, the Retriever gets loose (we had to tie him up in the yard because he kept chasing things and running away), and the Shepherd runs after him. We never even realized what had happened until we saw the Shepherd coming back with the Retriever, holding the would-be runaway’s leash in his mouth, and leading him back to the house.

Must have been a weird sight for the neighbors.

If all of the spots on the couch were taken, my dog would scratch the door to go out and when someone gets up he would take their spot.

My cat (about 4 months old at the time) hadn’t come back for at least 2 days and I looked for her everywhere. I was getting worried since she never really left for more then a couple of hours. I guess my Labrador sensed how worried I was and realized it was because of the cat. So he decided to run out the door, while I wasn’t playing attention. (He also knows how to open doors.) I didn’t realize till later and I thought I had lost both of them. When around 8pm I heard meowing coming from outside. When I looked outside I saw my lab holding my kitten by the head.

My chickens held a funeral.

In our flock of maybe ten bantams, there was one elderly, respected hen. Even the brash rooster, who would spend most of his time chasing other chickens away from ‘his’ feed, meekly made space for Grey Girl when she slowly made her way over to the chicken feed. She was mother and grandmother to many of them, and you could tell how much they esteemed her.

One morning, I open the chicken coop as usual, but not a chook was to be seen. Normally they’d be all running out to find the night’s bounty of bugs, but not this morning. I walk inside the pen to see what’s up.

There is a circle of chickens. An actual circle, with Grey Girl’s body right in the middle. All the chooks are making this weird wailing sound, which I had never heard before. I am in no doubt they were mourning the passing of their elder mother.

What’s more, the body was lying outside the shed where she would have been roosting. There is a good chance that she was actually pulled out of the claustrophobic, poo-filled shed and placed in the open space by the chickens, so they could pay their respects.

After about half an hour the chooks all wandered off and I buried the body. And I never saw that behaviour again.

We had a dog that liked to roam the neighborhood too much so we installed one of those wireless fences that give a shock from a collar when you cross it. The law requires it to beep and give a warning before the shock to train the dog to stop, which is good. But she figured out that if she got near it then it would start beeping. So she went to where the beeping started and laid down. Then just lay there until the beeping stopped and she knew the battery was drained and too weak to shock her so she would just walk across.

Not current pet but a dog I had as a teenager.

Dog jumps up on the couch

“No, you’re not allowed on the couch, go lie in your bed”

Dog leaves the room. A moment later he returns with his bed and throws it on the couch. Gets back up on the couch in his bed and stares at me.

“… Fair enough…”

My neighbor is a zoo-keeper and he loves working with the chimpanzees and the otters.

Story about the chimp: he was closing up this one male chimps sleeping cage for the night, and then realised he’d lost his keychain. He saw the chimp holding them, and asked to get them back. Chimp refused. He then said “here, I will give you a banana for the keys!” Chimp then proceeded to unhook ONE key from the key chain and hand it back to him. 18 bananas later, and the keys were returned. This chimp is quite famous in Scandinavia – he was rejected from his mom as a newborn and was raised with the zoo-keepers family until he was re-introduced to the flock around a year later. There’s books and TV-series (from the 70s) about him.

I had a German shepherd when I was little that would run around our backyard and frantically (but very gently) remove any toads he found from the yard when he saw us getting ready to mow the lawn. He was the sweetest guy.

My old pit bull just knew when I was suicidal and came for cuddles. Just would sit there whilst I cried into her fur and patiently wait it out then lick me and stay longer.

My dog is super sneaky. He’s not allowed on the furniture, and never ever tries to get up on the couch or bed unless we invite him. One day I was taking a shower and had forgotten a body wash I had just purchased, so I left the shower running and ran out to my room to grab it really fast. I found him on the couch happily rolling around on his back. As soon as he realized I was there he froze for a moment, jumped off the couch and ran to his bed. That’s when I realized the little jerk waits for me to get in the shower to get on the furniture and knows to listen for me to turn the shower off so he knows when to stop!

I snuck downstairs and watched my small dog delicately push the chairs and a couple cardboard boxes around into an specific orientation, then wildly parkour across the objects in order to get to my dinner sitting on the table. He also carefully moved the fork out of the way using his claws so that it wouldn’t make any noise. I notified him of my presence right before he started eating and he just froze and then looked really guilty. In addition, when I have a panic attack, my dog will sometimes bring me his favorite stuffed animal because I assume he thinks it will comfort me like it comforts him.

One of my cats learned how to turn the internet off. I mean, he realized everbody goes crazy when he goes behind the TV stand and messes up with the wires.

So when we’re not paying enough attention to him (usually if we’re on our phones or the computer), he just unplugs the router. I don’t think he knows how much power he has.

Every morning for breakfast I always eat fruit and that weekend there was a farmers market selling fruit for cheap so I bought a TON. I couldn’t fit them in the fridge so I left a few bags on the side in the dining room (reachable distance)

I shit you not, I woke up and was surprised to see an apple next to me. Over the next few days, my dog would get up in the morning, go in the bag, and get a fruit to put next to me on the bed. He proceeded to do this for the next two weeks until we ran out.

My dog Bailey (Lab/Husky) and her BFF Tess (Boxer) were in our backyard playing around. Tess, being a total idiot as usual, decided to go exploring in the back (all forest, hills, creeks and such) and takes off. Not wanting to lose both dogs, my daughters called Bailey to stay.

They tried calling Tess for 10 minutes before they found me to come help. I came and tried the same for a few minutes. Once I realized that there were no sights or sounds of Tess, I turned to Bailey, and said, “Bailz, where’s Tess?”

We played this game with Bailey regularly. She would find anyone in our family if you asked her to. So I sent her off into the forest looking for Tess. No hesitation on Bailey’s part.

Another 10 minutes go by. Sun is going down. Forest is quiet. We start calling for Bailey to return. Sure as shit, not 2 minutes later, they both come back. It was from some distance too as we could hear them crashing through the bush a ways off.

Bailey knew she done good. Acted like she just cured cancer. Many cookies were had.

I had a cat that learned how to open the fridge, and then my dog started begging my cat for food. And then the cat started getting into the fridge just to feed the dog.

I patiently await the day where my pets decide to overthrow me and have me fixed. I’m not fighting it, that’ll only make it worse in the long run.

While I was out, my dog pulled a piece of paper out of the trash and pooped on it so that he wouldn’t poop on the floor.

I had a cat, a good friend, a long long time ago whom I still miss. He was a big tabby with awesome tan/orange stripes. I would climb up to the roof sometimes to avoid my housemates and relax and stare at the moon. One night I climbed up there, and he was up there. He saw me and seemed to get very happily excited to see me. He ran to one edge of the roof, looked down, then looked at me. Then, he ran to another edge, looked down, looked at me. He did that at every edge. I figured out what he was doing. At the last one, I said, “ok. Thank you for showing me. Don’t worry. I won’t go too far and fall off.” He looked very satisfied, walked to me, and laid on my chest, and we watched the moon together.

One of my cats back when I was a kid, Thomas, got a urinary tract infection somehow. We would’ve never known because he’s both an indoor and outdoor cat and usually went outside to relieve himself.

One day he jumped up into the bathroom sink, pushed the plunger down to stop the water leaving the basin, and pissed in it. Afterward he stood over it crying until someone came and saw the bloody urine in the bowl.

He found a way to directly tell us “Yo, something’s wrong with me.”

He could also open doors on his own.

My gentle giant of a newfoundland did that growl once.

We were on a road trip and I had to pee. Accidently picked a gas station in a bad part of town but I had to go. Left the dog in the car and while I went in i got asked for money to which I responded I don’t have any on me. Had the following conversation on the way out.

Him: “I’ll walk you to your car so you can find your money”

Me: “no”

Him (while following me): “it’s no big deal I can wait for you to find it”

I’m freaking out now trying to figure out of I can get into the car and lock the door fast enough. Come back to see my newfoundland – the gentlest dog ever baring get big ass teeth and doing the once in a lifetime growl through a cracked window.

The guy SPRINTED away. Then We drove through a McDonald’s and got her a whole cheese burger (which she never gets)

I had a pair of gold fish that grew to be quite large. Their names were nemo and toad. When nemo was dying toad did everything in his power to “revive” him. Including swimming alongside him and under him to boost him up and giving up larger potions of the food. After the nemo passed away toad got super depressed. He wouldn’t eat at all and spent all day moving the little pebbles at the bottom of the fish tank from one side of the tank to the next. he died not long after

My chocolate lab woke me up one night barking in my face. I was really mad because he does that. When i got up to see what was up I soon realized I was having a massive Heart Attack. He saved my life. Thanks Luke.

We lived in an apartment complex that didn’t allow pets. Unfortunately the people who frequently drove into the complex and dumped unwanted cats & dogs weren’t aware that residents weren’t allowed to have pets. One evening, there was an orange tabby crying piteously in the yard behind our building just 25 yards from one of the busiest roads in our city. The neighbor across the breezeway said that she saw him tossed out of a car that morning. I was worried that he would get creamed on the road and spent two hours sitting in the grass next to him with a bowl of ground hamburger to earn his trust. I had no idea what I was going to do with him after that, I just didn’t want to see him starve or get run over.

After a few weeks we worked out a living arrangement – he stayed in the apartment during the day with food and water and a bed and then went outside at night. We had to keep his presence hidden so that the apartment management wouldn’t fine us or evict us. We couldn’t keep cat food bowls outside or a litter box inside (the staff collected garbage, so they’d know if I was dumping used cat litter). Due to his effervescent personality we started calling him Jonsey, the Shithead (Aliens reference). We were working on a solution house him permanently, but it was going to be a few more months before we could either get him into a rescue or move to a new residence that allowed pets.

One night, during a round of terrible thunderstorms and heavy rain Jonsey was less than thrilled to head outside and we weren’t hot on the idea either. So he curled up in the corner of the couch and we headed to bed. The following morning I woke up and stumbled for the coffee maker. My husband asked me if the reason I was so tired was because I was up late cleaning up after the cat. I had no idea what he was talking about. He told me to look in the kitchen sink. There was a dishrag lying in the bottom of the sink and when I moved it there was cat poop in the drain. It took me few seconds to figure out what I was looking at and what it meant. To my husband it looked as if I had cleaned up cat poop and, in disgust had just thrown it in the sink to deal with it in the morning. What had actually happened was that Jonsey needed to use the bathroom and, instead of using any of my many houseplants, the corner, or just about anywhere else, he had chosen the absolute best alternative to a litter box available to him – the empty kitchen sink. He’d done his business and courteously covered it over with the dishtowel I always kept draped over the neck of the faucet. He earned a forever home with us and we moved to a house a few months after that.

We had pot belly pigs when we were little because my brother and I were allergic to cats and dogs. Smart little f*ckers. My brother and I would always yell “MOM! MOM!”, so one day my mom left for a couple days and the pigs got upset. One of them started squealing and then opening it’s mouth so it sounded like “MMMMMAMAMA”. Then the other one started doing it. So we had two pigs in the house screaming for mama. It was creepy as f*ck.

On the few days I get to sleep in, if my cat decides his breakfast is too late he has learned to wake me up for it.

early on, I apparently learned to sleep through his MRROOOOOOOWs by the bedside; as time went by, I learned to roll over & ignore him when heâ€™d bat at me with his pawsâ€¦

â€¦so heâ€™s learned to get me up the one way I canâ€™t sleep through: heâ€™ll take a single claw & drag it very gently over my eyelid. it doesnâ€™t hurt at all, but Iâ€™m hard-pressed to think of a more peculiar feeling.

When I was in high school, my cat P.C. (short for personal computer which was my Dadâ€™s idea) woke my Dad up in the middle of the night by knocking herself into my parentsâ€™ door and meowing very loudly. My Dad began to follow her downstairs not knowing why and she stopped at the air vent in the kitchen. My Dad immediately turned off the air. Turns out something caught on fire in the vent and the smoke detector hadnâ€™t picked it up yet.

I’ve had dogs all my life but the 3 I have now are all very special to me. They’re seriously smart. They’ll turn on the outside hose when they get thirsty on a hot day(even though they have ice water inside) but they’ll also get the bathroom door open when you’re taking a shower and turn the shower off when they think you’ve been showering for too long.

They’re very smart but very scary. When my SO and I were walking around after we got done setting the tent up at a family camping trip(my SOs family) I went to go take a leak. So I took two of our German Shepherds to the bathroom with me and left her with one. She can handle them all of course but with deer and squirrels and stuff you just don’t know. I trust them to listen to her but why take a chance.

So while I’m in the bathroom and my two dogs are hanging around outside I hear a distant but very angry and aggressive bark. Now, my dogs are very well trained and don’t bark for no reason unless told to. I hear one of my two let out a “wtf?” bark and another distant bark from my SOs dog.

At that point my dogs start going crazy so I’m like what the f**k might as well let them go. I let them go and they just barrel over to where I left my SO, I’m talking full run and barking. Of course I pick my pace up and I get a look at the situation. It’s three guys cornering in on my lady. Only thing holding them off was the dog she had.

I have to tell my SO to let her dog go right as my two get to her. All the dogs pounced at what seemed like exactly the same time and they all end up on the ground.

But after that my dogs just take a seat right on top of the three guys. They don’t even try to fight the dogs off at that point. Ten seconds later after I called the dogs off I figure out why. All three dogs have bitten almost through one of each guys arms.

It’s smart not to f**k with someone with a dog, or worse multiple dogs.

I had taken my german shepherd out for a hike in an abandoned conservation area. It was a hot day, there was a creek with a deep pool, so I decided to strip nekkid and go for a swim. The dog and I splashed around a bit, then we got out, I pulled on my clothes, and carried on down the trail.

My dog, however, wouldn’t follow. She was starting at something in the grass. I called, she looked up at me and then looked back at the grass. I went over to see what was so enthralling… turns out my car keys had fallen out of my pocket and she wasn’t budging until I picked them up.

I have pet rats. One of them broke a tooth, and the infection spread to her brain (the teeth go all the way up above the brain). I had her on antibiotics, but she was a bit “tilted” to one side. When they were out on a table, I noticed her falling over near the edge of the table, and was afraid that she would fall.

However, before I have time to react and move, another of my rats walk up to her, takes a firm but careful grip around the base of her tail and pulls her away from the edge of the table.

Now, I know one should be careful in placing human thoughts in animal heads, but usually, a rat “biting” another rat’s tail is a surefire way to start a fight, and I can’t see any other reason to do it except that she saw ahead, noticed the potential problem, figured out what to do to solve it and implemented that solution.

My cat has figured out how to turn on my heated mattress pad. Its just a little foot pedal near the headboard. With out fail I come home everyday to it cranked and her cuddled down near the foot of my bed, where the coils double.

In the winter I sometimes wake up hot as hell and realize she’s turned it on while I was sleeping.

I was at the park with my dog and started talking to another dog owner. He got bored and decided to leave without me. As soon as I realised I ran out of the park to find him walking down the street toward my house, the road was pretty busy so I nearly shat myself and started sprinting down the street after him.

I saw him look both ways, wait for the traffic to stop for him and then cross the road.

By the time I caught up to him he had already crossed and was just having a casual stroll home.

About two weeks ago, just before we had to have him put down, I went to pick him up from the vets. They said he had improved overnight, the moment they said he could go home he jumped off my lap and went straight to the door. He kept looking back at me as if to tell me to hurry up.

He was a brilliant dog.

I work at a pet store, and a big part of the job is listening to people talk about how great their average-ass pets are. But man, every now and then you get a good one. We have a family that owns a couple of African Grey parrots. When the kids were teenagers, the parents went out of town for the weekend, specifying there should be no parties whatsoever in their absence. Naturally the kids throw the party, and manage to clean up brilliantly. They almost got away with it until at dinner the night the parents returned, the Greys started making this whole new range of sounds including the sound of a beer pop tab opening, and the sounds of ping pong balls hitting plastic cups and the floor. Busted by birds.

She saved my life. I was sleeping, and started going into a diabetic seizure. My SO at the time was a very heavy sleeper (her dog). She jumped on the bed, whining and barking until my SO woke up. Ambulance was called, life was saved.

There was a fire in my building once. My old kitty yelled at me until I followed her into a low corner of the bedroom. The air there was much clearer and I hid there with her until I was rescued by the firemen. She saved me that day. She’s gone now, but she was my best friend for 18 years.

When I was a stupid kid, I was eating warhead hard candies. Instead of eating them like a normal person, I was squeezing one end and shooting it into my mouth. Well, I squeezed too hard and it got lodged in my throat. I made it to the back door (my dad was in the garage) before I collapsed. My cat ran out, and started swatting at my dad and got him to follow her. That was scary.

I have two horses, Red, and Mickey.

They are yarded next to each other, and there is enough of a gap in the fence that a clever horse may work out that they can just manage to pinch the others hay through it.

Red took it a step further and realised that if he could steal Mickey’s hay, Mickey could steal his…

So he waits until Mickey is distracted by his bucket feed, and then Red takes his own hay from his own feeder and deposits it across the yard, where it’s safe.

He then goes back and takes Mickey’s hay and deposits it where it is safe.

Then Red eats his hard feed and two lots of hay.

We had to move all the hay feeders.

My youngest son, a two time cancer winner, was recovering from a particularly ugly round of methotrexate. He was home recovering and my Pomeranian, who was always at my heel,wouldnâ€™t leave his side. I was curious but not concerned and continued my morning chores. I was in the next room when Ping came in like Lassie and barked until I came to see. He returns to my sons side and began to shiver. My son was playing xbox, and seemed ok. I turned to go back to my chores and Ping let out a howl I didnâ€™t think he was capable of and as I turned my son was seizing, full grand mal seizures that I recall clearly 11 years later. I was just in time to keep him from hitting head first on the hardwood floors. We just put my little Ping down last month. He was my best friend for 17 years, and my sons hero forever. We miss you Ping.

I had a genius ferret. All of my ferrets were smarter than you might expect, but Mia was ridiculous. I have tons of stories, but hereâ€™s my favourite.

My roommates and I used to hangout in a TV room that had door way with no door (entranceway?). Since I wanted the ferret to be able to run around while we were there, I put a baby gate across the exit. Took her ten seconds to climb it, of course.

I then wrapped the gate in carpet runner, so she couldnâ€™t scale it. She tried for a long time, but could find anything to get a grip on. Three of us are all kind of marveling at her commitment.

She stops trying to climb, and just freezes for a minute, her eyes panning around the room like sheâ€™s concocting a scheme, and then she starts eyeballing a shoebox on the other side of the room. Eyes up on the gate, back to the box, back to the gate. My buddy says â€œNo f*cking way. You think sheâ€™s figured it out?â€

She walks over to the box and starts sliding it across the floor, stopping every foot or so and checking her progress. Finally gets to the gate, hops on the box and jumps up and grabs the top of the gate. Whoop sheâ€™s up and over and dancing down the hallway.

Dogs are awesome. I had a gentle giant growing up and once a guy drove up the road at double the legal speed in a narrow, twisted medieval street near a school, almost hitting both my dad and my dog.

My dad loudly yelled “asshole” and gestured at the car, and the guy, proving he was even more an asshole than previously thought, stopped his car, got out and did a few steps to threaten my dad.

My dog gently sat down, managed to make his fur double in size, and did the kind of growl you only hear dogs do once or twice in their lifetime, the kind that says “You better not make one more step”. My dad did not even have the time to think of an answer before the guy did a full U turn and got back in his car to drive away.

My dad had a hard time telling us the story because he was laughing so much at the face the guy made.

Also, seeing it’s about being intelligent, my old dog understood how to open silently the doors where the treats where and close them back, but never did it when someone was around. We had to film him.

He also figured out once that every now and then, some old ladies would gather up in the house next door which was owned by the municipality to host club events. He knew when they would come somehow and would climb the garden wall to get some biscuits from them. I miss him.

I once tried to put my roommate’s dog in his kennel. Sweet dog–he obeyed me and went inside without a fuss, then looked at me like, “okay, now what?” I closed the door, put the latch down, and told him to stay in there like a good boy. He gave me this look that said “are you serious with this?” Without missing a beat, he calmly lifted the latch with his nose and walked out of the kennel.

I have a three month old pup who got dirt in her eye one day. Th eye kept tearing up and she held it partilly shut for a few hours. During that time I felt really bad for her and handed out a lot of treats. Since then, when I am eating, she begs by winking that eye with a tiny whimper. Her wink is nonstop. If she’s called by someone else in the home she looks at them with perfect eyes. I get the “broken eye” Once she gets the goods -fully working eyes.

When I was raising my chicks and they were about adolescent age, my one hen died suddenly. I got home and her brother was having a fit in the coop, then when I pulled her out to go bury her he just sat and watched completely silent. I picked him up to return him to the coop, and he just closed his eyes, settled down, and sat completely silent in my arms for about an hour. It broke my heart. I never knew chickens could mourn until then.

We had one remarkably intelligent pet rat. There was a number of intelligent things he did, but here are some highlights.

His much larger older brother was keeping him away from one of the food dishes on the first level. He chews a hole in the bottom of a box on the top level and moves it down to the first level. He manages to move the box, with him inside it, and the hole he chewed perfectly aligned with the food dish. He camped his box right over the bowl, with him in it, blocking his brother out, where he could eat in peace.

He was the master of manipulating his environment. Inside their cage was a number of levels and boxes. He would push them around, nest them, or chew them to get wherever he wanted to go. It was like watching someone playing a video game where they had to arrange boxes to get where they wanted. It was all the more impressive given he had limited mobility from his rear legs, and more than compensated in this way.

We would put puzzles filled with treats in their cage to give them something to solve. Without fail he was always the one to solve them, no matter how many layers we would put on them.

He had a few tumors removed over the course of his life. Without fail he always seemed to remove his stitches a day or so before he was scheduled to go back in for removal. Provided he could reach them. Everyone else would either leave them be or immediately try to remove them.

No matter where you would put food blocks, he would carefully pick them up and place them in designated food bowls.

He was extremely vocal in the way some dogs, like huskies are. Unlike others he would modulate his squeaks to try and communicate.

RIP Felix, you brilliant little rat.

I had a yabbie in my freshwater tank that is a genius. I one day watched him gather some food pellets into his cave, wait for the fish today eat the rest then a few minutes later place them in front of the cave entrance, then attacked and ate a fish that came to eat the pellets.

He stockpiled his meal to later bait an even better meal. That f*cker is in his own tank now.

The smartest thing I’ve seen my cat do is referee when my girlfriend’s kitten was trying to fight her older cat. We were initially terrified because my cat was found as a stray and you can tell that he’s had his ass kicked in a few fights back in the day.

When we adopted him, when he’d hear the other cats start playfighting, he’d rush out to be there too. He weighed about twice as much as the next biggest cat, and we knew almost nothing about his personality at the time, so of course this filled us with terror. Well, we followed him out into the next room, and he had just managed to perch himself on the coffee table, above the action, and was just watching.

When the older cat switched from playing to getting genuinely exasperated with the kitten, he tagged in so the other cat could get away. For months he would do this, so we figured he may have helped raise kittens when he was stray.

Anyway, his personality is great, and he’s a sweet dumb boy and the best lap cat you could ask for. The vet at the shelter thought he would want to be an outside cat, but once we got him home it was very plain that that was not the case. I could leave the door open all day and he wouldn’t go anywhere; this cat has no interest in being outdoors again.

I have a parrot. We have a black cat called shadow and he comes when we say his name. One day I hear Oliver (my parrot) saying “Shadow! Shadow!” while he’s in the kitchen on the stool. I look outside and shadow is at the door begging to be let in.

Also once I accidentally woke Oliver up and he started grumbling, “sh*t sh*t sh*t!”

My roommate’s dog. We were taking care of another dog for a few days and he was staying at our house. They got along well enough, but visitor dog kept trying to play and resident dog never wanted to. One evening, resident dog walks in to the living room to find visitor dog is in her favorite spot on the couch. She immediately barks, drops into a play bow, and starts jumping around to play with him. Visitor dog gets super excited that she finally wants to play and abandons the couch. Resident dog drops the playacting and reclaims her rightful throne.

Carries his bone to you and pushes it into your hand. Then he starts chewing the other end of it while you hold it. When you try to pull on the bone to maybe start a tug-of-war game with him, he stops chewing and gives you a look like, “What the heck? Just hold it. You’re the one with opposable thumbs.”

Not my current dog, but the family dog we got when I was a teenager. I came home and went to my room and she’s just barking for no reason. Not furiously, but an unfamiliar cadence and enough to be annoying. I finally come out of my room to see what she wants. I look out the window and see my car trunk lid hadn’t latched all the way and was wide open. Not that I had much of value in there, but as a broke college student in a neighborhood where anything not nailed down gets stolen, I thought it was pretty awesome of her. She got extra treats and pets that day.

Husband used to have a large cat who, if his breakfast was “late”, would live the toilet seat up a few inches with his head then let go . BAM-bam-bam-m-m-m

I put a pot of water on the stove and while waiting for it to boil I went and got involved in something else and forgot about it.

After a while my siamese kitten came in and started meowing at me, in a very insistent way. I figured she just wanted attention so I gave her a few pets and just kept doing my thing.

She kept meowing and started poking her claws into my ankles, not drawing blood but definitely enough to get my attention. She ran to the door and looked back meowing, so I followed her. She led me to the kitchen where the pot was starting to smoke because all of the water had boiled off.

You know she got her favorite wet food and so many snuggles.

My former boss had a parking lot clean-up and lawn maintenance business. He would send his two collies out around the parking lots collecting trash, and they’d bring it back to his truck. They loved it. It was amazing to see.

About the otters, one summer an otter escaped from their enclosure, and was seen around the zoo/amusement park, swimming around people who had hired rowing and pedal boats. He’d go up to guests to beg for snacks, etc. All summer the guards tried to catch him, but he learned to recognise their uniforms, and stayed away. They finally succeeded in catching him when the guards dressed in civvies.

My first cat ended up going through renal failure which caused him to urinate a lot. I would clean his box every day but sometimes I would get home from work late and he didn’t like that. He started using the toilet all on his own. I caught him one afternoon while cleaning the house. I was sweeping the hallway and as I passed the bathroom I heard the sound of peeing in the toilet. As I continued sweeping past the door it dawned on me that my husband was at work, leaving me home alone. So now I’m slightly disturbed and I slowly back up, broom in hand, and peer around the door jam into the bathroom. My cat is sitting on the toilet urinating and giving me a look that screams he wants some privacy. I was in so much shock I just gave him his privacy and went back to sweeping. After that day he refused to use his box anymore and in the final months of his life I actually had to go out and by him a trainer potty so he wouldn’t have to jump up on the toilet anymore. The lady at Walmart thought I was playing a prank on her when I told her what I needed the potty for.

My cat figured out how to fill up my bathtub. He learned how to close the drain and would turn the water handle and would just sit there and watch the tub slowly fill up. It took me weeks to figure out what was going on.

I had a very smart and wonderful golden retriever, Emma.

She would sometimes try trading one of her gross rawhide chews for something we were holding if she wanted it–she once dropped her toy in my dad’s lap, nudged it towards him, and started “speaking” (not like a bark, more like dog complaining) while nodding at the apple he held.

She would also distract our book smart but not street smart other golden if she wanted the toy the other dog had. She’d take a random toy, go up to one of us and make a big deal, jumping and barking and playing with us with the toy. Then when book smart dog dropped her toy and ran to see what all the fuss was about, Emma would immediately leave us and grab book smart’s toy and run off with it.

One time she found a hurt dove and brought it to us in her mouth, holding it so gently.

When my son was a baby, he was teething really bad. Constantly running a fever and cranky. we gave him lots of the tylenol suspension drops. One morning I had the baby wedged in the recliner while I was looking for something. Of course he was crying. Our dog, looked at the baby, ran upstairs, came back down a few seconds later with the tylenol, dropped it in the recliner where it rolled to the baby. Then the dog turned to me and barked until I picked it up.

My cat knows that old grocery bags are what I scoop his crap into, so when I slip up and forget to clean his litter box he drags one in there to let me know.

My step dad was a serious alcoholic (still is) however before he met myself and my mother he has this beautiful Staffie.

Multiple people confirmed that if he was in the bar and the dog was worried. It could get out of the house. Onto a bus and to the main strip. It would then go in every bar one by one looking for him. If he didn’t find him, he would go back to one specific bar and sit on a chair and wait for him.

Early in the morning, I open our sliding glass door to let my dog out. She stands there staring at me as I tell her to go to the bathroom and motion outside. After a 10 second staring contest I attempt to lead her outside by first going out myself. I then proceed to walk into the sliding screen door I failed to open and knock it off the rails. That was when I knew my dog was smarter than me.

Our cat hears the mailman delivering the mail through the letter slot in the door. He races to it, grabs each piece in his teeth, and then drags them – one by one – to the chair where I’m sitting.

If a piece of mai

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/20-of-the-most-unbelievably-smart-things-pets-have-done-that-surprised-their-owners/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/174271433407

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allofbeercom · 6 years