#man it’s been a while since I plugged my sites huh

[dazadoop]

Hey remember the song Me!Me!Me! with all the cute outfits?

I do and I drew my destiny guardian, Lyka, wearing all of them!

crow better watch out

The rest of the outfits are all up on patreon and subscribe star! 💜

Subscribe Star

Patreon

#destiny #awoken #guardian #oc #me!me!me! #pinup #daz’s art #man it’s been a while since I plugged my sites huh #also she finally has a name!! #Lyka #like lycanthrope #cause everyone calls you ‘young wolf’

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 2 

*FOR PART 1 CLICK HERE or SEE MASTERLIST*

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Talk of sexual favors, flirting, crack, humor, Solo Masturbation (M) (F).

Rating: 18 and over

Yoongi:

Yoongi sits at his computer browsing through his ‘SIO' page when a notification pops up. A new subscriber has signed up for a yearly membership but didn’t submit a request for their welcome gift. “Hmm, strange.” He clicks on the new subscriber’s user name ‘WildGoddess11'. He hums again. “OK wild Goddess, let’s get you set up shall we.” He shoots a private message to the user.

‘Hello WildGoddess11,

Welcome to my page. I hope you find everything you’re looking for here. I noticed however that you didn’t send in a request for your personal gift. Please be sure to choose from one of the two categories I work in and submit before midnight. I look forward to creating content for you.

All the best,

Gloss93'

Yoongi waits a moment to see if he gets a response. Just as he is about to sign off, his computer pings with a new message.

‘Hello Gloss93,

Thank you for the warm welcome. I imagine though, that you do this for all your customers. I know I was supposed to submit a request but honestly, I had a bit of an unconventional one. I was hoping you would accommodate me. I don’t normally surf these sites but you come highly recommended from a very close friend who says you are someone who is incredibly trustworthy. I’ll gladly pay extra. Please let me know if you’re interested. Thanks.

WildGoddess11'

Yoongi chuckles at the message. “Unconventional. What the hell does that mean?” He mumbles to himself. He hums again, sending a message back.

‘WildGoddess11,

I don’t normally take special request. I prefer to stay within the realm of what I normally offer. I am however, intrigued and willing to hear what you have to offer.

Gloss93’

He sits back in his chair, waiting, the anticipation killing him. He shakes his leg frantically, looking at his phone, then putting it down, then picking it up again. Finally, after what feels like forever, his notifications rings. He clicks it immediately.

‘Gloss,

I want, nay, need you to feed a darker side of me. Complete anonymity, 1000 dollars a month for sexual asks. Photos, videos, and phone calls. We don’t need to show our faces, since I can see that’s not your thing and honestly, I prefer that as well. I also ask that you not provide this service to any other clients. I can be a little jealous lol. Like I said you came highly recommended so I trust that we can work together. It won’t change my subscribing to your page if you say no. I understand if this isn’t for you. So, if you do say no, I am down to just submit a normal request. Let me know if you need time to think it over. Thanks.

WildGoddess'

Yoongi’s eyes widen as he reads and re-reads the message in front of him. He doesn’t know how to respond. He has never wanted to delve into this type of thing. Feeling confused, he picks up his phone and calls Hobi. “Hey, I need your advice.” “Sure. What’s up?” “I got a new subscriber today and they are making an unconventional request and I don’t know what to do because I mean, I’m intrigued. No one has ever come to me with something like this before.” “What was the request?” “Sexual asks. 1000 bucks a month.” “Get the fuck out of here! Are you serious? I didn’t think... I mean… I… that’s nuts!” Yoongi’s brow furrows. “Hobi, something I should know? Did you give out my code?” “Uh, no, it’s just that’s a lot of money, I was taken aback. You should just do it.” Yoongi sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get caught up in this type of shit.” “Look, you wouldn’t have called me if you weren’t thinking about it already. Just trust me, you won’t regret this.” Yoongi grunts in frustration. “I better not.” “I’m excited for you.” Yoongi chuckles at Hobi’s comment. “What does that mean Hobi?” “Uh…. nothing…. just that it’s cool you know. 1000 bucks, I don’t even make that much!” Yoongi decides not to question further, instead thinking about Y/N. “Hey, how did the gift go over with Y/N?” “Aw man, she thought it was a prank from me. She freaked! Then she comes out of her room wearing it! Anyway, great choice because she looks great in it.” “She put them on for you?!? What the fuck?” Yoongi whines. “Not for me. In spite of me. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” “Yeah alright.” Yoongi hangs up and types a response. “Here goes nothing.”

Y/N:

Your computer pings with a notification and you jump out of your bed and to your computer. It’s finally a response from Gloss.

‘WildGoddess11,

Let’s do this as a one-month trial period. Like I said before I don’t like to do this type of thing but I have to admit you are the first person to really pique my interest. I’ll allow you to submit me a special request and I’ll send it back to you via private messaging. I encourage you to review some of my past videos, perhaps it’ll motivate you. Happy hunting.

Gloss93'

You squeal, excited that he accepted your request. You had already been looking over his page, making yourself horny watching his hand kink videos and ASMR. He was hot and you had never even seen his face. You had already known exactly what you wanted to ask for. You bite you lip, typing your request.

‘Gloss,

Now that we are nice and established, let’s move past the niceties. I would like to request a dual hand kink/ASMR of you masturbating, I want to hear you moan my name while watching you grasp your sheets for me. Please send soon. My greedy little cunt can hardly contain herself. Also, please send me your information so I may transfer your extra funds. Happy stroking.

WildGoddess'

You bite your lip, excited to see what he has in store for you. “Y/N, I ordered Chinese. You hungry?” Hobi calls to you from behind the door. “Coming.” You respond, closing your laptop and walking out to have dinner with Hobi. “So, did you use that code I gave you?” Hobi ask. “Uh, yeah actually I did.” Hobi’s brows shoot up. “And, how did it go?” “I don’t know what you mean. It’s pretty basic honestly, although not having to pay the yearly membership frees up my funds. Who is this guy anyway? Why do I feel like you’re up to something?” Hobi shrugs. “No one special. Someone I know from the site. Trust that I always have your best interest in mind.” You nod. “Well, I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.” You inform him. He smiles wide, shoving food in his mouth. Your phone vibrates and you look to see a notification from ‘SIO'. You hop in excitement and click it to see a message from Gloss.

‘WildGoddess,

I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever read. I’m hard just imagining what your greedy little cunt looks like. You can send me money to my PayMo account, same username, Gloss93. I look forward to working with you. Look for me in your inbox soon enough. Goodnight.

Gloss'

“Good news?” Hobi wiggles his brows at you. “Shut up Hobi. Why don’t you explain to me why you bought that lingerie?” Hobi chews quickly. “Woah, woah, woah. That wasn’t me. I am not your secret admirer ok, I actually voted against you getting that gift.” Your eyes pop open. “Yoongi, that piece of shit!” “What,” Hobi chuckles nervously, “No, who said anything about Yoongi. I didn’t say anything about Yoongi.” Hobi turns pale, eating quickly. “You know Hoseok, you’re a terrible liar. I’m going to kill your friend.” “Come on Y/N, he really likes you. He may be a little, I don’t know, bad, with his approach but he has the best intentions. Give him a chance.” You roll your eyes. You did have a huge crush on him but giving in now would be bad. You just weren’t ready. “Hey, since you’re now a part of ‘SIO’ you wanna come to the annual meet and greet bash they throw?” “Hell no. Isn’t that just some orgy fest?” Hobi laughs loudly. “Well, it can be don’t get me wrong but it’s more so to gain more subscribers and get to know creators you already follow.” “Will Gloss be there? Like does he go?” Hobi’s eyes light up. “Gosh Y/N, you’ve only been subscribed an hour and already you’re addicted huh? He has that effect on people. It’s his voice, I think. Unfortunately, he doesn’t go to any events, he likes anonymity.” You pout a bit. “Well, then, no. I’m good thanks.” “Suit yourself.” You both finish dinner, helping each other clean up. You head off to your room, your phone vibrating. You look to see a notification from ‘SIO’, you plop onto your bed, hands shaking as you open the message.

‘WildGoddess,

This is my first time doing this so I hope it’s good. I must admit I rather enjoyed myself. I hope you will too. Again, welcome to my page. I look forward to working with you. Talk soon.

Gloss’

You grab your headphones, plug them into your phone, and click on the video attached to the note. The camera is pointed at what you imagine is his bed. The sheets are a crisp white. You swallow, your eyes frantically scanning your phone screen when his hand suddenly appears, gliding up the sheet, followed by strained sigh. You feel yourself strain a bit, trying to hear every little thing. Soon, you can hear the sounds of his stroking, the lurid fapping filling your ears, followed by his soft pants. The fingers on his left hand spread wide across the sheet. “Fuck, this feels so good.” You moan at the deep silky sound of his voice filling your right ear. He chuckles into the left ear and you feel a chill travel down your spine causing your back to arch. You focus heavily on the wet sounds filling his room and your ears. He’s stroking so fast now, his breath quickening, pants becoming more desperate. He is sure to move between mics, stimulating both of your ears.

You don’t know when but your hand has made its way into your panties and you whimper touching your swollen bud. “God, I hope you’re touching yourself,” He soon says into your left ear, “filling your tight little cunt up, pretending it’s me. I bet your pussy is so wet right now.” He sniffs into the right ear and you moan loudly into your room. “I bet that cunt smell delicious.” “Fuck!” You cry out, shoving two fingers into your clenching core. You begin to thrust in and out of yourself in conjunction with the delicious sounds of his stroking. He growls into your left ear. “I’m going to cum soon.” Moving to the right ear. “Is that what my greedy WildGoddess wants, my hot cum all over her?” “Yes, yes,” You pant, swirling circles around your bud before returning to your sopping hole, “Please come for me Gloss, please.” You watch as he grips the sheets hard, his veins bulging wildly from the top of his fist. His breath quickens and a relieved groan escapes his throat “Fuuuuuck!” He moans. His climax shooting from off camera onto his clenched fist. The sight causing your cunt to seize wildly around your fingers, your orgasm hits you in a hard crash. You cry his name into the room, your eyes tightly shut, only white bubbles floating in your vision. You soon open your eyes, coming down from your high, the sounds of him giggling gorgeously into the right mic. You look at your phone to see him release his messy fist from around his sheet. “Till next time my WildGoddess.” He declares, shutting the camera off.

Yoongi:

Yoongi rubs his eyes, exhausted from staying up late, hoping to hear from his “WildGoddess” about his video. She never replied, leaving him stuck in his own head all night, tossing and turning. “ICED AMERICANO.” The Barista shouts. Yoongi walks over grabbing his drink with a nod and heads over towards campus kicking himself for agreeing to meet Hobi this early. “Wow! You look like shit.” “Thanks, Hoseok. Not all of us can be a ray of sunshine like you.” “How was last night?” Hobi inquires, wiggling his brows. Yoongi shrugs. “What are you talking about?” “Oh, uh, nothing. Just seeing what you were up to.” Yoongi chuckles, sipping from his drink. “Nothing, I stood up all night, thinking about that goddamn subscriber. She never responded to her video.” Hobi looks at Yoongi with wide eyes. “You sent her a video?” “Yeah, like I do all my subscribers. A welcome video but hers was a little more tailor made if you will. Anyway, she never responded if she liked it or not. I guess I shouldn’t care. She would’ve complained if she didn’t like it.” Hobi nods, then tilts his head, then shrugs. “She liked it.” Yoongi eyes him suspiciously. “Yeah, I guess. Like they say, no news is good news.” “Hey, are you going to go to the Annual meet and greet for ‘SIO' this year.” Hobi asks. Yoongi scoff. “No, I never go to that shit.” “Well, maybe now that you got this mysterious stranger, you know, you would be more interested in it.” “No, we are keeping things anonymous. Just like I like it.” Yoongi clips.

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m going to be going this year.” “You go every year Hoseok, nothing has changed.” Yoongi says. “So, did you happen to take any pictures of Y/N in her gift?” Yoongi asks now. Hobi laughs heartily. “I was in shock at how amazing she looked to be honest. I mean, her ass, AMAZING!” Hobi shakes his head. Yoongi groans, jealous that he wasn’t there to witness her in all her glory. “Why didn’t you drag her along with you today to collect your schedules and pay your school tab off.” “Honestly I don’t know how I can face her after last night.” Yoongi’s ears perk up. “Why? What happened?” Hobi freezes in place, “Uh because of the lingerie thing of course. Why? What did you think?” Yoongi licks his lips, watching Hobi shuffle into the office of the main building. “Hobi, you’re a terrible liar. Did something happen?” “No, of course not. Honestly, it was that. I’ve never seen her so, uh, nude. Yeah, that’s it.” He walks to the secretary at the front desk and asks to pays his student fees. “Cash please and may I have a receipt?” “Sure thing.” She takes his money and prints him a receipt. “Where to now? Breakfast?” Hobi turns to face Yoongi. “How about your place?” He drawls. Hobi chuckles nervously but nods.

Y/N:

You were a panting mess after your third time getting off to the video Gloss sent you. You had been happy when you heard Hobi leave this morning, knowing you could be as loud as you wanted to be. Now, however, you dropped down on your side unable to moved, your battered pussy throbbing, finally allowing your eyes to flutter shut. You feel the edge of your bed shift and you moan unhappily. “You look spent, one would assume you had company last night.” Your eyes pop open to find Yoongi smirking at you from the foot of your bed. You jump up suddenly, tucking your phone and headphones away. “What the fuck are you doing in my room Yoongi?” You seethe, watching him as he eyeballs everything in his surroundings.

“I brought you lunch. Thought you might be hungry.” “OK well, you don’t need to be in here for that so please go.” You wave him off. He smiles seductively, looking at your exposed legs, then up your oversized shirt to your face. “Do you always wear a garter to sleep?” He tilts his head to the side, biting his lip. You look down and quickly tuck the belt under your shirt. “Is that your business Min Yoongi?” He shrugs, dropping his eyes to the ground, bending forward with a suck of his teeth. “They look better with these on.” He whispers, licking his lips. You yank your thong from his fingers, and shove him away. He chuckles, getting up now and moving towards the door. “Has anyone ever told you that you are the most beautiful woman in the world?” “Get the fuck out Yoongi!! HOBI! Come get your friend.” He pouts at you and walks out of your room. You release a sigh, moaning into your hand as you feel your juices coat your cunt. “Fucking Min Yoongi.” You whisper to yourself.

Yoongi:

Yoongi hits refresh for what feels like a hundred times on his ‘SIO' account and nothing. He releases a sigh, whining when Hobi comes around and punches him in the arm. “What was that for?” “Why do you insist on torturing her?” Yoongi can’t help but smile. “She was still wearing the lingerie, well some of it anyhow. Did she have someone over last night? She looked…I don’t know. Satisfied.” Hobi scoffs and shakes his head nervously. “She hasn’t been with someone in a long time. Now please let’s eat.” “I mean you’d tell me, right? If I was wasting my time?” “Oh, so are we now admitting that we have feelings for her and are actively pursuing her?” Hobi snips. Yoongi shrugs. “I’ve always said I had feelings for her. I just never thought I was her type. Not being the point, I don’t want to get involved if she’s involved already.” Hobi shakes his head again. “She’s not. I’d tell you.”

Yoongi sighs in relief, standing straight when Y/N exits her room to join them. She is fully dressed now causing Yoongi to chuckle. “You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me you know. I am all for oversized shirts and no panties.” Yoongi comments. She flips him the bird and walks over to fridge for a beverage. She joins them at the table and they begin to dig into the food. Yoongi watches as Y/N pulls out her phone, stretching a bit as she types, trying to see who she could be texting. “Did you have company last night?” Yoongi inquires. She looks up from her phone at him and smirks. “And what if I did Yoongi?” He shrugs. “Then they are lucky.” She simply laughs but Yoongi feels the sting of jealousy at the thought. He watches as she looks down at her phone. “He would’ve had to crawl up the side of the building because I was right in the living room the whole night.” Hobi interjects. Yoongi’s phone buzzes suddenly and he pulls it out of his pocket. He sits up straight, seeing a notification from SIO.

‘Gloss,

My god! That may have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Is it possible for me to think you are so fucking hot without me ever having seen your face? You may or may not have me sprung. I mean, if beating this pussy 3 times can be considered sprung…. what do you think? Sprung off you?

WildGoddess.’

Yoongi chuckles in shock at the message, looking up suddenly at Y/N. She munches away at her lunch and soon realization hits Yoongi. His heart races and he takes to writing a response to confirm his theory.

WildGoddess,

3 times huh? Someone must be spent today. I’m honored. You should be too; They say third time is the charm. I look forward to making all your filthy dreams come true. Sprung on you too?

Gloss.  

Yoongi hits send, waiting anxiously. Suddenly, Y/N’s phone buzzes and he feels the bile rise in his stomach. He shoots a look at Hobi who locks eyes with him in confusion. Yoongi gives him an angered look and Hobi’s face drops. Yoongi turns to face Y/N when he hears her giggle. “Thanks for lunch guys. I gotta go.” She walks off to her room staring at her phone. Once out of ear shot, Yoongi slams his fist on the table making Hobi jump. “What did you do Hoseok?” “I…. I don’t know what you mean?” “Don’t fuck with me. Is it her? The new user? Is it Y/N?” Hobi drops his fork, looking to her bedroom to ensure the door is closed. “She needed a distraction Yoongi.” Yoongi growls at Hobi’s confirmation, dropping his head in his hands. “I didn’t want to connect with her this way. We have to tell her.” Yoongi gets up and walks towards her room. “No, no, no,” Hobi almost shrieks, yanking Yoongi back to the table, “Look you said you like her. She likes you. She’s just scared ok. This is the perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to know one another without any pressure involved.” “No, only the pressure of a 1000-dollar payment every month.” “Ok, I didn’t anticipate that. Just don’t accept the money. She doesn’t know it’s you she’s talking to. Take her on some dates, then spill the beans but don’t do it now. She’ll kill us both!” “The longer I wait the worse this is Hobi. It’s betraying her trust.” “No, no. Look you’re getting caught up on semantics. I know her best ok. It’s better if she slowly comes out of her shell and this is the perfect way to do that. Trust me. I know what I am doing.” “If this goes south Hobi and believe me it will. I’m throwing you under the bus, better yet, driving it over you.” Yoongi declares in a huff, storming out of the apartment before he changes his mind.

#bts smut #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi smut

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 7

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention, mention of dead loved one (Marcus’s wife), brief nudity, kissing

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Here’s the next chapter! I wanted to let them have a moment to just be together after everything that happened, and this was one (of many) of them. Enjoy!

“I just don’t understand why it’s not working. It doesn’t make sense.”

Sometimes she wondered why she had to be a supervisor that knew how to code. If she were non-technical, like many of her past managers, she could have simply told the developer to do some code reviews with his colleagues. Well, it wouldn't have been that simple either way, but at least she would get to go home.

Erin sighed and sat down by Brian’s desk. The empty coffee cups and notebook with scribbled ink was a familiar sight, though his desk did seem to be missing one crucial thing: a rubber duck. “Let’s just take a step back and go through the logic, ok? So we have that….”

She and the developer went through the specifications for the updates and the high-level implementations that needed to be done. It seemed like he managed to get most of the framework for the code set up; all that was left was, well, writing the code and making sure it was correct. However, the deadline for shipping the code was coming up in the following days, and he was still at the debugging stage.

Although it had been a while since she’d programmed anything in a work-related context, she thanked the CS gods that she still remembered enough to take on some of the debugging. Conveniently, Brian had prior commitments that night and needed to leave on time–as if an engineer’s shift was ever truly over. But while there were others who could help out, something told her that it would be faster if she did some of the debugging herself. After all, she’d just spent half an hour reasoning through the logic.

“Why don’t you finish up as much as you can, push your changes to the repo, and I’ll take a look later?” she suggested, scanning the code. At first glance it looked fine–as most code normally did–but there were obviously issues somewhere that caused all the tests to fail. “I have some other work to do, but if we can get everything ready within the next couple days I don’t think they will mind the update being slightly delayed.”

With that, Erin went back to making her rounds through the work area, picking up any stray folders and getting last-minute status updates from the others. The sky was already dark, any trace of the sun long gone. Normally she would be getting ready to leave soon, but there was more work to do ahead of the op she was leading.

Ignoring the vibrations of her phone, she made her way back to her office and set up her desk to keep working. One thing she’d learned over her years of experience as a supervisor was that an organized desk was crucial for concentration. If only other aspects of her life were as organized as her desk.

It had been days since she found out about Marcus’s secret identity, but she couldn’t help but still feel utterly stupid. She was stupid to think that she could move on. That she, for once, was enough.

The truth was that she was never enough. She wasn’t enough to bring Marcus back after his disappearance, and she wasn’t enough to make hiding his past life unbearable.

She would have been lying if she said she didn’t consider breaking things off. But at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He said that he and Pike were the same, that everything they had was real. And if that was true, then maybe things would get better. They could try to make things work, and show up for each other. After all, wasn’t that what caused the mess anyways? Them not being there for each other at the most important moments?

Someone knocked on her door.

Erin didn’t look up from her work. “Come in.”

“Hi honey.”

This time she looked up, a small smile on her face. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home with Missy?”

Marcus chuckled softly. “I guess I should, but my mom convinced her to stay the night so that we could have some alone time,” he explained, sitting in the chair in front of her desk. Eyes twinkling, he lifted a paper bag. “I texted you asking what you wanted for dinner but you didn’t reply, so I got your favorite.”

Now she really was smiling. “You brought canh chua? I’m sorry I didn’t reply, I’ve been running around the department trying to get everything together.”

“It’s alright; I figured you were busy, so I wanted to make sure you at least had dinner,” he said, pulling out the container of soup along with some utensils and a couple to-go bowls. “I know you love the bạc hà, so I asked for extra. They’re in one of the small containers, so we can add them in ourselves.”

“You’re too good to me.” Erin pushed her laptop to the side so he had more room to organize the slew of containers. The tamarind-flavored soup was often a treat rather than a regular meal, one that she normally savored in the cozy atmosphere of the Vietnamese restaurant. Her heart melted a little as she realized that Marcus had to have driven across town to get it from the restaurant.

“You deserve only the best.”

Some containers were filled with jasmine rice, fragrant and pillowy. Others overflowed with toppings like aromatic cilantro, spicy Thai chilis, and crisp bean sprouts. And, as promised, there was an extra container with fresh slices of bạc hà, the spongy stem of the elephant ear plant.

Her mouth watered as she helped fill the bowls with rice and soup, letting the golden broth soak into the grains. The tomatoes and pineapple chunks were perfectly cooked and plump, brightening the salty, nearly fruity, broth.

When she pushed the bowl towards Marcus he shook his head. “You eat first, Rin. You’ve had a long day. How was work?”

“Tiring,” she scoffed lightly, adding a questionable amount of chili to her bowl. The soup was still pleasantly warm when she scooped some into her mouth, the salt giving way to the fruity sourness and inferno of chilis. She moaned in satisfaction, “This is exactly why you are my favorite person in the whole world. Thank you for bringing this, brown eyes.”

He smiled softly, adding a significantly smaller amount of chili to his bowl. “Of course, honey. Just like the old times, huh?”

At that, Erin sighed. Sometimes she forgot that her memories of Marcus Pike were really of Marcus Moreno, and it still hadn’t ceased to be jarring when that realization hit. “Yeah.”

Noticing her hesitation, Marcus looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that–”

“No, it’s okay,” she interrupted, waving him off. “I just...I missed this. Us in an office sharing food in the evening. I never thought I’d ever get to experience this again, but now you’re here.”

His eyes softened and he reached over to hold her hand in his. Stroking the back of her hand softly, he said, “I know. I missed this too.” He shifted in his seat. “And I know we can’t go back to what we were before, but I don’t want you to feel like you need to separate our memories. They’re ours, honeydew. Nothing can take that away.”

“I know,” she said, eyes burning. “I’m sorry I’m not as happy–”

“It’s alright,” he interjected gently. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

And, if she would let him, he was going to spend the rest of his days showing her how much she meant to him. It was a mistake–a huge one–to hide from her for that long. If time was money, he’d cost her so much. Maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to give those years back to her, but he could make the most of their time in the present. Now he just hoped his paperwork would get approved at HQ.

“I’m just so tired,” she said quietly.

Of everything. Of being herself, and of feeling like the biggest fool in the world for not realizing the man she loved had been in her life eight years ago.

She’d long since stopped caring about what her colleagues thought, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pride herself on her intelligence and knack for details. With everything, she wasn’t quite sure what hurt most: the blow to her pride, or the fact that Marcus had lied.

But deep down, a part of her was happy. He finally came back, and while the past was wrought with cracks, the future felt...secure. And if there was anything she knew about Marcus, it was that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and that he wanted to stay for the long run. She knew that, no matter what, he wanted to make things right.

“Why don’t we head home after this, then?” he suggested, lips quirked up in a small smile. “They can’t get too mad if the smartest woman in the bureau takes the night off.”

---

“Would you like to stay?” she asked, unlocking the door to her apartment. Marcus’s car was parked in the visitors’ parking area, and it was starting to get late. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I’d love to, if you’ll have me,” he answered, heat rushing up to his cheeks when her eyes met his. Even after all this time, he couldn’t get over the way she looked when she smiled at him like that. When she looked at him like he was everything she ever wanted.

They settled into the apartment as usual, with Erin checking on her plants and Marcus helping to plug in her laptop. Something about the way Erin moved around in the space was just...right. He’d seen her navigate government buildings and sites for operations, but at home, there was a different kind of confidence about her. It was a confidence that he knew only a select few were allowed to see.

Once they reached the bedroom, Marcus kissed her forehead and went into her bathroom. “Stay here, I’ll get a bath ready for you.”

Erin let out a huff of laughter at his eagerness, resigning to putting away her bag and changing into more comfortable clothes. As much as she loved a good suit, she also loved the warmth of sweatpants and the softness of silk. But seeing as she still needed to wash up for the night, she slipped on a silk nightgown, the hem stopping just above her knees.

Eventually, Marcus returned and led her into the bathroom, presenting her with a bathtub full of gardenia-scented bubbles and steaming water. He’d also found her electronic candles, placing them strategically so she could see in the dimmed lighting.

“It’s perfect, Marcus. Would you like to join me?” she asked, biting her lip in anticipation. The bathtub was just large enough for two people, and she wanted to know what it would feel like to be with him in her most vulnerable state. After all the secrets and waiting, she just wanted more .

He shook his head, trying to not let his mind linger too long on the way her nightgown hugged her chest like liquid gold. As much as he wanted to be with her, something told him that it wasn’t the right moment. “You’ve had to take care of yourself for so long, honey. Let me take care of you, ok?”

“But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Their lips melded together as their resolve grew strained. She tasted sweet and intoxicating, and it took all his strength to not give in. “You deserve to be treated like a queen. You’re my queen, and I want to make you feel good. Is that alright?”

She hummed softly and kissed him again. A low moan escaped her lips. “You really know how to make a woman conflicted, Marcus.”

“Sorry, it’s a bad habit.”

“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re here now,” she said. Pulling away, she stepped up next to the bathtub. Slipping the straps off her shoulders, she suggested, “If you’re not going to join me in here, why don’t you get comfortable and keep me company?”

The bath felt as amazing as it looked, the hot water melting away the tension in her muscles and the bubbles acting as a blanket to keep her modesty. Well, not that she hadn’t undressed in front of Marcus, but she wanted to keep some parts of her a surprise.

After some shy laughs, Marcus stayed by her side the entire time, sitting on the edge of the tub. It was just wide enough for him to sit comfortably, close enough that they could talk softly and he could help wash her hair. The golden glow of the candles and the warmth from the bath soothed their nerves until they were just two people in love.

Relaxed and back in her nightgown, Erin sat on her bed and checked her emails one more time. Thankfully, there weren’t any that she needed to reply to.

“Careful, hot tea incoming.”

She smiled up at Marcus, who was holding out a cup of steaming pu erh tea. Accepting it, she remarked, “I’m surprised you were able to find the tea leaves.”

“It helped that I remembered that you always have a designated cabinet.”

“I guess not that much has changed after all these years,” she said, sipping from the cup. As she did, she wondered if it was just herself that hadn’t changed.

“Dance with me?”

Her eyes widened in confusion when he broke the silence. “Hm?”

Marcus held out a hand, which she instinctively reached for. “Dance with me. Please?”

It didn’t take long for her to give in, setting the cup down on the nightstand. They swayed slowly in the bedroom, moonlight streaming in. Although there wasn’t any music, it was just what they needed. They just needed a moment in each other’s arms.

Erin’s head rested against his chest, the warmth from his body sinking into her. “I missed you so much,” she said softly.

“I missed you too.”

He missed her too.

But there was still something nagging at the back of her mind. Part of her didn’t want to disturb the peace, but she also wanted answers. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to ask him. Maybe it would undo everything. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Can you tell me about your wife? Missy’s mom? Did she..?”

Marcus sighed softly, but not out of frustration. No, it was the kind that was borne of fondness. His arms tightened around her. “Yeah. We actually met not too long after I had my documents changed back. I didn’t want to tell her. I wanted a fresh start, but I still felt very much like Marcus Pike rather than Marcus Moreno. So, I told her about my past and we went from there.” A soft chuckle. “She was definitely shocked, but it was different because she never knew me as Pike, only Moreno.”

She wasn’t you, he wanted to say.

“I’m glad she knew,” she replied, snuggling closer to him. At least he told her, the mother of his child. It was...comforting to know that he hadn’t been all alone during those years. Eight years was a long time to keep a secret. “And what about now? Do you still feel like Marcus Pike?”

“Some days I feel more like Pike,” he admitted. “But with Missy and the Heroics, I feel like I’ve settled into being Marcus Moreno. It took a few years, but….Pike will always be a part of me. It wasn’t ever not me, just…a different side.”

“I see.” When his arms shifted, Erin clung to him tighter. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Marcus kissed her temple, his lips soft and warm. “Never again, honey. I’ll be here until you’re tired of me.”

< previous chapter | next chapter >

TAGLISTS: (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!)

PERMANENT:

@cinewhore​ @randomness501​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @miraclemoreno​ @halfwaythereroyal​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @talesfromtheguild​ @tortles​ @ladamari68​ @theokatcov @snivellusim @starryluce​ @inked-poet​ @this-cat-is-dea​ @shedobewritingalittle​ @chews-erotically​ @thefandomimagines​ @emesispo​ @bitchin-beskar​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @dishonouringmycow​ @sarahjkl82-blog​

HONEYDEW:

@leemorrigan @houseofthirst​ @meshlamando​ @engineeredfiction​ @inkyzinky​ @thedazeinmylife @theoutsidelandhere​ @parkjammys​ @giselatropicana​ @a-skov​

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x OC #Marcus Pike x OC #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal #wcbh #we can be heroes #the mentalist #honeydew #my writing

[reyescarlos]

all through the night || a tarlos fic

❄️ @911giftexchange fic for @buckieys ❄️

happy holidays, sy! i'm wishing you a wonderful and prosperous new year. i hope this fic helps to usher in 2021 right!

word count: 5.2k || read on ao3

All through the night I'll be awake and I'll be with you All through the night This precious time when time is new

When Carlos envisioned winter in New York, his elaborate fantasies had somehow managed to eclipse the reality of what it might actually entail. He had enjoyed his brief stay, taking in the window displays along Fifth Avenue. It had long since been something he wanted to see for himself and the storefronts had more than delivered. But on the flipside of such a picturesque scene has come the downside of what heavy amounts of snow could mean.

It’s why he finds himself now planted in a too hard seat at JFK Airport, wondering how he’ll possibly fill his time now that his flight has been delayed until morning. Outside the blizzard rages on with no real end in sight and Carlos mulls over the merits of his decision to leave Texas in the New Year and make this city his home. This is a far cry from Austin. He’d once thought winter temperatures there could be bad but it’s been nothing compared to the arctic blast in the North.

He tries to keep busy with a book but his attention is split between the words before him and the cute guy across from him frantically digging inside his backpack, a phone teetering dangerously on his knee.

“God, where is that stupid thing,” the man mumbles to himself. “Come on charger, where are you?”

Carlos looks away, burying his head in his book to hide the smile that breaks out on his face. The guy is obviously peeved but Carlos can’t help but to find his muttering endearing. After another moment of fruitless searching on the stranger’s end, Carlos takes mercy on him.

“Here, you can borrow mine,” he says, unzipping his own backpack and fishing out his charger.

The man sighs in relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he replies, reaching over and taking the cord from Carlos.

He settles back and plugs it into the wall, the screen lighting up a moment later. Carlos smiles politely and gets back to reading, only to be interrupted.

“So, I take it you’re heading down to visit family before the new year comes, huh?” the stranger says.

Carlos looks up from his book, head tilting slightly. It hadn’t been expecting the man to strike up a conversation.

“Sorry, awkward small talk. I’ll let you get back to it,” he says, face scrunching as he gestures to the book in Carlos’ hands.

Carlos waves him off, bookmarking his page and closing it.

“No worries. We’re here all night so...plenty of time for that.” He licks his lips and drums his fingers against the front. “To answer your question though, no. Austin is actually my home so I’m just heading back.”

“Oh, cool. I’m going to see my dad. I thought he’d want to do the whole white Christmas, New York for the New Year thing but ever since he moved down to Austin last year, I think he’s gotten spoiled by the warmer weather.”

The man looks out of the window where the snow is swirling so heavily it’s hard to even see the sky or planes sitting idly on the tarmac.

“Guess I can’t exactly blame him.”

Carlos laughs. “It’s disgustingly cold here and all of that,” he says, gesturing to the storm, “doesn’t help. I don’t know how you guys manage.”

“You get used to it. I’ve only ever grown up with it so while I like to complain about the snow at times, I can’t picture this time of year without it. It’s been a few years since it’s been this bad though, I’ll admit.”

Carlos smiles a bit, looking out of the window briefly. “This is actually my first time experiencing snow. And the city was gracious enough to give me a blizzard to commemorate.”

The man smiles at this thoughtfully. He sits up, stretching his hand out across the aisle towards Carlos.

“I’m TK, by the way.”

Carlos touches his fingertips to his forehead before shaking TK’s hand.

“God, my mother would be so ashamed of my manners right now,” he laughs. “I’m Carlos. It’s nice to meet you.”

He lets go, his palm feeling extremely warm from TK’s touch. TK smiles at him, a slow grin that ultimately reveals his teeth. This man is very good looking, there’s no denying that. He’s got an easy way about him that makes Carlos feel comfortable in his presence as if they’re old friends catching up and not perfectly good strangers meeting for the first time.

TK’s phone buzzes, stealing his attention and Carlos is all too grateful for it. TK types something on the device for a few seconds before pausing.

“Sorry, excuse me for a second,” he says, putting his phone to his ear.

Carlos nods and gestures for him to go for it.

“Hey, Dad. I—,” TK starts out but stops short as his father speaks. “I bet it’s all over the news but I’m alright. Not looking forward to being stuck here overnight but,” he continues, his eyes landing on Carlos and away so quickly Carlos is sure he’s imagined it. “I guess there are worse ways to be trapped for a few hours.”

Carlos looks away then, cracking open his book again to keep himself occupied while TK chats with his father. He tries not to dwell heavily on TK’s look or what the implications of that glance could mean. It could’ve been a coincidence and nothing more. All the same, it doesn’t make his heart race any less to think that TK feels a spark too.

TK ends the call with a sigh, stretching out his legs before bouncing one of them. The gesture is distracting but endearing. For the second time, Carlos closes his book, this time putting it back into his bag for good as TK speaks to him again.

“Are you hungry? I could go for a bite.”

“I could eat,” Carlos says. He rises from his seat as TK does, both men dragging their carry-ons along with them.

They follow the winding path down from their gate, Carlos taking notice of all the fellow flyers now forced to wait out the storm. Some have taken to stretching out on the ground, laying on top of jackets like makeshift sleeping bags, others keeping busy with phones and tablets, hunched over in chairs.

Carlos isn’t looking forward to the uncomfortable sleep he’ll have tonight but as he looks over at TK, he wonders just how much rest he’ll actually manage to get. The guy is already proving himself to be a good way to pass the time and Carlos can’t say he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to keep chatting with him.

As they approach the cluster of food stands, TK groans and it’s easy to see why. Many of the shops are already closed, no doubt the employees hurrying home before the worst of the storm kicked in. All that’s available now is Cinnabon but Carlos supposes that can suffice as dinner.

TK orders a hot chocolate and a classic roll while Carlos opts for a cold brew in addition to a roll as well. TK eyes the drink with raised brows.

“I’m fully committing to the cause of being awake until we board, apparently,” Carlos muses, pushing his straw through the lid and taking a sip. “Worth it.”

The two head to a nearby empty table, settling into their elevated seats before unloading their food. The scent coming off the baked goods is incredible and Carlos’ stomach suddenly feels desperate for a bite.

“So, Carlos, since we’ve nominated each other for the buddy system while we wait this storm out,” he jokes, “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

Carlos drums his fingers on the tabletop as he tries to decide what to share.

“Well, you already know that Austin is where I’m from but the whole reason I’m even here now is because I’m going to be moving to New York soon. I’ll be transferring next month.”

TK’s brows raise. “Seriously? That’s awesome. Do you mind if I ask what you do?”

“I’m a police officer. I’ve been with the Austin Police Department for a few years but I’ve been considering leaving Texas for a little while now and I’ve been exploring my options. For some reason my mind kept coming back to the idea of New York and I figured I should just take the chance and see what happens.”

TK laughs and shakes his head. “Oh man, well, we have something in common, more or less. I’m with the NYFD myself.”

Carlos holds up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re a firefighter?” he laughs.

TK puffs out his chest jokingly and nods with a grin on his face. “That’s right. Ladder 252.”

Carlos does his best to push the image of TK in uniform from mind but the picture is an appealing one. He can see it so clearly, the way he’d look in suspenders, not to mention full gear. It’s almost unfair just how much hotter the man becomes as if Carlos hasn’t spent this whole time finding him attractive. He picks up his drink again for something to do with his hands, swirling the straw inside of the cup.

“Small world. Outside of my own little bubble, I can’t say I casually meet many people who are first responders. We seem to be a pretty special breed to get into this line of work.”

TK laughs. “I fell into this because of my dad. He’s been a firefighter for years. He, uh, actually was on site during 9/11. I always thought he was incredible but knowing the full scope of what he and so many others did that day and for people in times of crisis, big and small in general, it just made me want to be like him.”

Carlos frowns, unsure of what to even say or think. “Your dad’s a hero.”

“I like to think so.” TK draws in a breath, squaring his shoulders. “Anyway, now he’s kicking ass down in Texas so, even though I miss him as my captain, I know he’s doing great work with his crew down there.”

Curiosity gets the better of Carlos as he asks, “What station is he with?”

“The 126,” TK replies, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Carlos’ eyes widen. “Captain Owen Strand is your father?”

It makes sense the longer he looks at TK. Captain Strand is an attractive older guy and TK clearly got handed some solid genes. Still, it throws him for a loop to realize they have a legitimate connection to each other.

TK tilts his head to the side. “You know him? Shit, okay, wow, small world just got a whole hell of a lot smaller.”

“Unbelievable,” Carlos laughs in disbelief. “I don’t know him that well but we work together sometimes on calls. He’s amazing in the field and he’s really turned that station around.”

TK practically beams. “Guess this means we’ll be seeing each other again soon once we finally make it to Austin then.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so. Assuming you don’t get sick of me before this night is through, that is.”

TK holds Carlos’ gaze for a moment and if it were anyone else, it would be unnerving but something in TK’s stare just sends a thrill through Carlos, excites him in a way no stranger has ever really gotten under his skin.

“I don’t see that happening,” he says plainly, as if this is an irrefutable fact and not something that’s truly subject to change.

Carlos doesn’t argue the point. He merely enjoys the next few hours, seeing just how easily TK’s theory pans out.

~*~*~

The contrast in weather between New York and Austin is one of the first things Carlos’ remarks on as he steps outside of Austin-Bergstrom. He’s never been more grateful for a forty degree afternoon. He’s kept Michelle updated about his new set time and he waits patiently outside of arrivals. Beside him now, TK types out a message on his phone before smiling over at him.

Carlos has had hours to get used to that look on TK’s face and yet he’s still brought up short. Last night and the early morning hours were spent talking to TK about everything imaginable, trading stories about crazy calls they’ve been on and even touching on personal things like their families. When they grew tired of talking, they watched movies on TK’s laptop, fighting off the urge to sleep for the mere sake of hanging out.

It isn’t rare for Carlos to become friendly with a person but this connection to TK feels different in a way he can’t quite parse.

By the time their flight boarded, Carlos knocked out for the entire length of the trip but it had been worth it in his eyes to stay up and take advantage of the uninterrupted time that stretched before him with TK. It was safe to say a bit of a crush had formed, as absurd as Carlos felt for it. TK was going to be in town for the next few days and that prospect was both thrilling and terrifying. If he could feel this close to TK in one night, there’s no telling what could happen in a few days.

Before he can get lost in that thought, Carlos sees Michelle as she pulls up to the curb, the trunk popping open.

“Are you good out here?”

“My dad’s coming in just a minute. I’ll be just fine,” TK muses as Carlos puts his carry-on inside and slams the trunk shut.

“Alright, well. You have my number now so text me whenever you’re free. I’ll show you a few places while you’re here.”

Carlos extends his hand but TK rolls his eyes jokingly and pulls him into a half hug instead.

“We’ve spent the night together, Carlos. I think we’re past handshakes now.”

Carlos’ face burns with TK’s wording but the man merely laughs.

“See you soon?”

Carlos just nods and finds the wherewithal to get inside of Michelle’s car. He waves after he buckles himself in, TK lifting a hand in response.

“Okay, who is that?” Michelle asks immediately, head turned to take in the sight of TK.

Carlos tips his head back against the seat. “You won’t believe the night I’ve had.”

~*~*~

Carlos has spent two days showing TK some of his favorite stomping grounds. TK relished in all that Austin had to offer and Carlos has been happy to see that their closeness from the unexpected overnight at the airport hadn’t been a fluke. If anything, these outings have only made Carlos feel closer to TK.

Michelle has been relentless in her teasing, finding it all too amusing that Carlos managed to cross paths with Captain Strand’s son of all people. She’d clung to his every word during the ride home from the airport as he filled her in on how he waited out the storm.

The 126 meets at their usual bar and Carlos is glad for this post-work gathering. It’s the perfect time to show TK what a real honky-tonk is like, further immersing him in the culture of the state his father now resides.

TK sits next to him at the table, the large group so packed in that his leg presses against Carlos’. It’s light but it’s enough to make the point of contact all Carlos can focus on even as everyone else at the table engages in conversations that overlap, laughing amongst themselves. He does his best to ignore it but it’s difficult not to take notice of each shift TK makes. Michelle keeps looking at him and Carlos, to the best of his abilities, avoids her gaze knowing that it’ll make it just that much more difficult to act as if he isn’t freaking out internally.

“I’m gonna get another. You want anything?” Carlos asks TK.

TK shakes his head. “No, I’m alright but thank you though.”

Carlos nods once and gets up, finding it much easier to breathe already now that he’s no longer sitting beside TK. Michelle catches his eye as he leaves from the table and he can hear her shoes as she follows behind him to the bar. She rests against the counter facing the room at large as Carlos gets the attention of the bartender and asks for another beer.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Michelle laughs at his side.

“Chelle,” he groans, shaking his head.

She merely laughs again, bumping her hip against his. “When did your life become a romantic comedy?”

“I must’ve missed the memo myself because this sure snuck up on me.”

The bartender sets a bottle down in front of him but Carlos doesn’t move. This little reprieve away from everyone but Michelle right now is welcome.

“I like him. He’s nice. Really cute too.”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” he deadpans, looking over his shoulder at TK.

He looks so at home here, hanging out and laughing with these people he’s, up until now, only known secondhand from his father’s work stories. TK is personable as ever, Carlos knows all too well. Had he not been swept away after one night in the man’s company?

“I think this is so great.”

“Funny, I think it’s the universe trying to mess with me.”

Michelle scoffs, finally turning to face the bar like him. “There are worse things in the world than a seemingly perfect guy practically falling into your lap. We should all be so lucky.”

Carlos casts the mental image aside, taking a sip of his drink. “The timing though. I can’t think about guys right now. I need to be figuring out my next set of moves for New York.”

“If those plans just so happen to include an attractive new friend…,” she trails off with a grin.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to screw this up because yeah, he is a new friend and we get along well, it’s a good feeling.”

“Do you like him?”

Carlos falters. “I barely even know the guy.”

“That’s not even remotely close to what I asked you.”

Carlos scratches at his forehead before letting out a sigh. “I do. Which hardly makes any sense at all. It’s only been a few days and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

Michelle shakes her head. “No, actually. I don’t think so. You guys had such a cute introduction to each other and you clearly hit it off. Some people just click and are meant to meet. The fact that you two had a connection to each other beforehand without even knowing it? I think there’s something to be said for that.”

“What, you think it’s fate or something?”

Michelle shrugs. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Your flight could have been a day earlier or even a few hours before his. On a plane filled with hundreds, you connected with him, Captain Strand’s son who just so happens to live in the city you’re about to move to. I think it’s worth seeing just how far it could go. If you ask me, you’ll wind up with a boyfriend in no time.”

Carlos mulls it over for a moment. He can admit he is in fact curious. It’s been a while since he’s felt this drawn to someone and with TK, it’s been as natural as breathing since they first met. The timing is less than ideal but it’s been so long since Carlos has felt this urge to get close to someone, since he’s felt safe enough to even open his mind and heart up to the possibility.

“Maybe you’re onto something.”

“One of these days you’ll learn to just accept my brilliance, no questions asked. But this will do for now.”

Carlos rolls his eyes but drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side and kissing her temple.

“I’m going moments like this with you,” he says.

Michelle sighs and pats his back. “I will too but we still have time on the clock, right? Let’s not think about that now.”

Carlos sighs, knowing she’s right. It just feels as if these moments are slipping through his fingers, the new year and all its changes lurking just around the corner.

~*~*~

As customary, the Ryder house is the staple for parties among the team and New Year’s Eve is no different. Carlos has lost track of how many times he’s sat on their couch or been treated for Grace’s incredible home-cooking. It’s always been a source of comfort for him, being surrounded by these colleagues who have become an extended family to him.

This time next year, he’ll be in another time zone, familiarized with a new group of people. Carlos knows he’s jumping the gun. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll be able to visit back home and that this collection of people will still love him as they do now.

Carlos looks around the living room, taking stock: Marjan blowing into a noise maker in Mateo’s face and bursting into laughter, Paul shaking his head and dropping his face into his palm. Over by the kitchen he sees Grace and Judd swaying to the music playing as Captain Strand takes Michelle’s hand and begins dancing alongside the other couple. It warms Carlos’ heart and breaks it too, seeing this all for what will be the last time with this city being home.

Suddenly the room feels too small and he finds himself heading for the door, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack. It’s cold out but Carlos remembers just how bitter the weather in New York was. This is nothing compared to that. And it’s this thought that twists at his heart a bit more, one more reminder of how much his life is set to change sooner than he thinks he’s ready for.

The new year is biting at his heels and time is just slipping by. Logically he knows that he shouldn’t be outside now, that he would be wise to savor these memories with his Austin crew while they’re here rather than lament later. But it all feels like too much and the last thing he wants is to let his pensive mood be a dark cloud over a celebratory and joyous time.

Carlos keeps walking until he reaches the park nearby the Ryder household. Naturally it’s abandoned as everyone is tucked away inside their homes either enjoying a quiet night in or throwing parties like the Ryders. Carlos draws in a breath and takes a seat on one of the swings, his fingers clutching on to the links. He quickly stands up the second he hears footsteps approaching, a figure walking towards him.

“It’s just me,” comes TK’s voice and sure enough the man’s features come into focus the closer he gets until he’s settling into the swing beside Carlos.

“I saw you take off. I just wanted to check that you were okay.”

Carlos smiles a bit. “I appreciate it. I’m okay. I’m just...thinking about a lot right now.”

TK sways on his swing, letting a comfortable silence fall between them before he speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Carlos’ heart and thoughts feel so heavy now, such a contrast to how lighthearted and hopeful this holiday is meant to be. But TK looks at him with such genuine care that he finds himself almost desperate to unburden himself a bit.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stop time, you know? But hell, it’s New Year’s Eve. What more proof do I need that life is always moving forward?”

Carlos sighs and rocks slightly back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a downer. You should head on back inside, have fun with the others.”

TK is silent beside him, long enough for Carlos to pull his gaze toward the other man. TK is eyeing him thoughtfully.

“You’re scared about what comes next. That’s totally normal. Moving away, starting a new life somewhere else, it’s a big step. A huge change.”

Carlos frowns as he nods. “I wish I could see the end, you know? I wish I could see if it’s all worth it, that I’m making the right choice.”

TK hums in thought. “Well, the best way out is through, right?”

“So you don’t think it’s a mistake to move out to New York?”

TK shrugs. “I don’t know you well enough to say one way or the other for sure. But no, I don’t think it is. I think the fact that you’re even considering it at all should tell you something about how you feel about where you are now.”

Carlos grows quiet, considering the man’s words. But TK isn’t done dishing out his opinion.

“You’ve got an amazing team here, there’s no denying that. It’s a real family, not to mention your actual family is here too. But—and mind you I’m super biased here— New York is an amazing place to be, to live. If you’re feeling restless in Austin, I think New York is the perfect alternative.”

Carlos laughs at this. “So, so biased,” he muses.

TK jokingly puffs up his chest. “Hey, it’s not my fault people have written songs about it and flock to it from all corners of the world,” he jokes. “And all of them, like you would, find home.”

A soft sigh escapes Carlos’ lips as he grips the chain link of the swing.

“That does actually sound pretty nice. I’d miss everyone here like crazy but maybe it’s time for something new? I don’t know. I keep waiting for something extraordinary to happen but nothing ever really changes around here. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I just—“

“You’ve outgrown it,” TK says simply. “And there’s nothing wrong with that either.”

Carlos smiles at him and nods. “I suppose not, no.”

“At least you’ll come to the city knowing someone; you won’t be alone or completely starting from scratch.”

“You? You would take that on?”

TK rolls his eyes. “Of course me. You think I’d leave you high and dry? Damn, I know New Yorkers have a bit of a rep but jeez,” he teases.

Carlos laughs. “I only meant...you barely even know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Maybe so but I’d like to get to know you better. And if we’re gonna be calling the same city home, it’s kind of perfect. You get a new job, a new city, a new friend. Pretty sweet package, if you ask me.”

“You’ll be my tour guide then? You can take me to all the hot spots, Central Park and Times Square for starters.”

TK shakes his head in dismay. “God, Times Square,” he groans. “Hell on earth but sure, just for you I’d make the exception.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos says, placing a hand over his heart.

“As you should be. There aren’t many reasons I’d willingly go there so you should be patting yourself on the back right now.”

Carlos raises a brow. “But you’re thinking I’d be worth it?”

TK’s face grows serious. “In a lot of ways I’m thinking you would be, yes.”

Carlos' face flushes a bit and he looks away, down at his feet as he begins to kick out in earnest to start swinging.

Not for the first time since meeting TK he isn’t sure if there’s more to his words just below the surface, if he’s flirting or just being naturally charismatic. It shouldn’t matter either way, Carlos tells himself. Starting up a new relationship when so much in his life is already about to change doesn’t seem smart.

And yet it’s difficult to bear that in mind when he looks over and sees that TK is still watching him. The man smiles softly and follows Carlos' lead, swinging a bit.

In the distance Carlos can hear the rise in voices from houses where everyone is celebrating, just waiting to usher in the new year.

“One minute to go,” TK says, looking at the time on his watch and digging his feet into the ground to stop himself.

Carlos keeps going, breathing in the last dregs of this year before it’s gone with the tick of the clock. He looks up at the pinpricks of stars above, almost glistening in the clear sky. He closes his eyes, soaks in the moment, the last few seconds of this year winding down.

The New Years party goers can be heard shouting their countdown and beside him, TK joins in quietly as well.

10

9

8

7

Carlos opens his eyes once more and holds his breath as he upward, counting down the last few seconds in his head. This year is going, going...

3

2

1

Gone.

He exhales as shouts from the neighboring houses rent the air. He stops swinging then, digging his feet into the hard earth beneath him as he looks over at TK. Beside him the man’s face is flushed, the tip of his nose pink from the cold but his gaze is unrelenting as he leans forward.

Carlos’ body seems to move on its own accord, closing the distance between them as well. He doesn’t think about anything other than what TK’s lips will feel like and before he realizes it, he’s getting his answer.

It’s a chaste kiss, truly just a meeting of mouths in a gentle press but it warms Carlos from the center all the way through his entire body. TK’s lips are soft and warm despite the cold.

“Happy New Year, Carlos,” TK says softly.

Carlos doesn’t have the slightest clue of what the road ahead will look like exactly but it’s enough to know that in some capacity, TK is going to be a part of it. Be it as a friend or something more, it makes Carlos hopeful to see how life will unfold, what other surprises it may have in store.

Carlos stares at him for a moment and it seems as if TK and the whole world is holding its breath as they sit in silence together. This feeling in his chest is so unlike anything Carlos has experienced before. He likes to think things through, to anticipate at least three steps ahead but his future is such a blank slate that it’s truly anyone’s guess as to what will happen next. All he can do is control this present moment and as Carlos sees it, kissing TK is the only thing on his agenda for right now.

He leans in again and kisses the man once more, deeply this time, hand cradling the back of TK’s neck.

Maybe this is risky, maybe this will only complicate his life further when he settles in New York and has to figure out what this all means. But in this moment, that all feels like a lifetime away, a page from a chapter that hasn’t been written yet. There’s only the here and now with this beautiful man that fills him with possibilities.

#tarlos #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star #buckieys #userjilly #ronenrubinstein #sulkybbarnes #useralie #userthai #userpauline #starlightbuck #sunshinestrand #captainstennerstar #usermaximus #userjillian #officerrxyes #userbre #userac #useraninha #useremmaleanne #kimmy writes

[jotarosbelt]

Colorful Camboys, 2.

a/n: hi!! i'm back! i finished up school and got a bit of my writing inspo back, so, i thought i'd write another Colorful Camboy's chapter for you guys <3

hope you're all staying safe! enjoy~

p.s. i haven’t written smut in a HOT minute and lowkey forgot how to write for josuke, but i tried! i’m sorry 😭

p.p.s. i didn’t proof read :) we die like men, fuck it

————

Summary: A Modern AU where your favorite boys are just trying to get off and make money.

You're one of their viewers and happen to catch their attention.

————

18+ content ahead!

Josuke - Pink

You’d come to the point where porn was honestly just boring.

It didn’t hurt to want to try something new! Maybe a new genre, a different site? But, all of it was the same old same old. And the disgustingly cheesy, clickbaity titles didn’t do much to turn you on or catch your interest either. You pursed your lips as you scrolled, coming across a camboy website.

You blinked. ‘A camboy website?’

Curiosity had ultimately gotten the best of you as you clicked the link. Almost immediately, tons of live-streams came up, thousands of boys right at your disposal.

‘This is gonna be fun.’

You scrolled through the plethora of streams in search of a boy that appealed to you. For the most part, a good chunk of them were your type. In shape, good looking— there weren’t many bad apples on the tree you were picking from.

Your eyes landed on a certain pompadoured boy by the name ‘ShiningDiamond1999.’ The username definitely raised an eyebrow or two, and the boy sure was good looking, so you simply clicked the stream to see what was up.

He wasn’t popular for no reason. He was cute! It was the oddly ‘adorable, yet super hot’ combo, and girls (and guys alike) were eating that shit up.

You sat back as you watched the boy palm himself through pink boxers.

“Oh? We gotta new person, huh?”

He leaned forward, hand still on his cock as he narrowed his eyes at his monitor. Part of you was embarrassed that he caught you so quickly— he had so many patrons there already! He must’ve been an attentive host.

You liked that.

“A guest, eh? How about you give me a name to call you by, cupcake? You don’t have to make an account for me to take notice of you, yanno.”

You couldn’t help but smile. He seemed sweet; he gave off the aura of someone who’d take care of his partner no matter what, and you had to admit that it was comforting. Not only was he easy on the eyes, he was someone who gave off the impression that he wouldn’t break your heart despite the fact that everything he said was meant for both you and the thousands of other viewers he had right now.

He really must’ve been good.

You splayed your fingers out across the keys, typing out a response. ‘Just call me [username].’

You could see him raise an arched eyebrow. He smiled brightly and leaned back into his chair. “[Username]? I can do that for you, babe.”

Teasingly, he ran his fingers down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. He simply smiled mischievously at the camera and popped the band against his hipbone. “Enough with the chit chat, yeah? I don’t wanna bore our new guest, so let’s get this show on the road, babies!”

Thumbs slipped under the elastic and pushed his underwear down his muscular thighs. His cock sprung out, slapping against his toned stomach and you couldn’t help the groan that escaped your mouth. No wonder he was so loved— he was sculpted by the gods themselves.

His bottom lip wrung itself between his teeth as he gripped his member with a large hand. Up, down, up, down— the motion was hypnotizing as it was erotic, and you could’ve sworn the way he looked at the camera while he did it brought you to the brink of an orgasm alone.

“I hope you’re touching yourself, too, baby girl. I don’t wanna be the only one getting off.”

His hand left his cock to push his boxers the rest of the way down. Without the restrictions the garment brought, he spread his legs wider. You could see everything from the way his balls tensed whenever he teased his head, and the way his asshole clenched around the pink buttplug on the downstroke.

Your eyes widened. ‘Buttplug? He's into that?’

Your eyebrows relaxed and a sly grin took form on your face.

The things you’d give to ruin this boy.

“God, fucking—“, he keened desperately, “I wish you were here right now.”

You subconsciously rubbed your thighs together. You were here to get off, but his performance was so goddamn captivating that you didn’t want to take your eyes off of him for even a second. So, you did what you could to strip yourself of your shorts and panties while still watching, reaching over to grab your vibrator.

“You’d be taking care of me right? Stroking my cock till the head turns red— shit—“

The soft buzz of the toy filled your room and you gingerly placed it on your clit. You jolted at the sensation. It had been a while since you had a nice session for yourself; you didn’t have much time to draw it out and really make yourself see stars. This was nice. Being able to sit back and watch somebody get off to help you get off wasn’t something you had seen yourself doing, but you really might have to make it a more common occurrence.

“[Username].”

Your eyes snapped open and met his, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. You switched the vibrator over to your non-dominant hand and let the other reach out to the keyboard to type out a quick “yes?”

“Since it’s your first time here, I’ll let you choose.”

Well, this was interesting.

The man on the other side of the screen reached out of frame for a moment to grab something. When his hand entered view again, he had a hot pink dildo in hand.

“So, love, buttplug or dildo? What’cha in the mood for?”

You narrowed your eyes at the screen best you could in the midst of your pleasure-filled haze and typed out your answer.

‘Dildo.’

You didn’t miss the inkling of a grin that lied on his lips. The ravenette leaned back in the chair and pulled out the plug, replacing it with the pink toy.

“Hah~, fuck. Good choice, babe—!”

His eyes rolled backwards into his skull as he sank the silicon toy further into himself. You whimpered and leaned back further into your seat, bumping up the intensity of the toy. This was gonna be a good session, if you said so yourself. You’d have to bookmark this page for later.

“Fuck, I bet you look so good right now. All flushed and panting and wanting to cum, right?”

Your breathing sped up, chest heaving as your hips canted into your hand. “God, yes please—“

Almost as if he heard your pleas, he continued right after you finished speaking. “Then lets cum together. S-Shit, cum with me baby, I’ll count.”

As if on instinct, you grown the vibrator into you, putting it on its highest setting. It was enough to make you jump out of your skin. You had goosebumps everywhere, cold sweat was running down your forehead, and your thighs were shaking like mad. How could a stranger have so much power over you?

“Five.”

You forced your eyes open to look at your screen, eyes locked on the streamer and his hand furiously jerking himself off. You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“Four.”

Your vision began to blur. You were so close yet so far from your orgasm, and in all honesty, you could’ve came right now. But, finishing with this stranger seemed a lot more appealing than doing it on your own.

“Ah, fuck— three—“

The veins in his arms bulged and he reached around to grip the base of the dildo. He threw his head back as he fucked himself it, his jaw falling slack and hanging open.

“Two—!”

At this point, both of you were chasing your releases like animals. There was something so primal about this— backs arched and hips spasming as you both selfishly chased euphoria. You gripped the side of your desk chair bruisingly, waiting for him to finish counting and—

“One— fuck, one, I’m cumming—!”

Your moan mixed with his as it came out of your laptop speaker. He whined, you yelled, and you both were riding your orgasms like a wave. You hadn’t cum that hard in a while. It was the kind of finish that makes you see stars and make your scalp tingle, and when you came down, you saw the camboy covered in his own release and strands of his hair out of place.

He looked so out of it. He was panting heavily with red airbrushed over his chest and cheeks, and pieces of his once perfect hairstyle stuck to his forehead. He was definitely not present in that moment in time, still on Cloud 9, but you didn’t mind watching as his vision came back into focus and his breathing slowed.

Slowly, he reached down to pull the toy out of his ass and place it some place out of frame. He laughed airily, his large hand running down the expanse of his throat momentarily before speaking.

“Alright, that was really fun. I gotta go clean up now, but I’ll be back to tomorrow, same time!”

You followed his hand as it moved to his mouse to end the stream.

”Oh, and I hope to see you again tomorrow, too, [Username]. I hope you had fun, love.”

This user is now offline.

#not sfw #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba #writing #jojo josuke #josuke4 #josuke higashikata #diamond is unbreakable

[oingos-bitch]

Another JoJo Mall Fanfic™ -- And So It Begins. . . (Chapter 2)

The  next  day  was  spent  wandering  around  nearby  cities;  cities  far  away;  small  towns;  beaches;  concrete  jungles;  even  mountains!  Just  to  search  for  the  best  spot  for  a  shopping  centre.  Whereas  it  was  exciting  for  JoJo,  it  was  annoying  and  pointless  to  Dio.  He  was  almost  tempted  to  buy  the  deed  to  a  few  acres  of  a  small  desert  town  just  to  ensure  that  they  wouldn't  have  to  travel  anymore. 'No,  I  have  to  drag  it  out  and  make  him  regret  putting  his  effort  into  his  stupid  little  mall,'  he  thought.

It  was  almost  dinnertime  when  Jonathan  suddenly  slammed  onto  the  brakes,  sending  Dio crashing  onto  the  dashboard.

"WHAT  IN  THE  FUCK  DID  YOU  DO  THAT  FOR?"

"Ah,  sorry,"  Jonathan  replied  absentmindedly.

Wondering  what  besides  him  was  so  amazing  to  look  at,  Dio  turned  his  face  up,  his  jaw  dropping  and  his  face  sharing  the  same  astonished  expression  as  JoJo's.  The  building  before  them  was  a  massive  and  impressive  mash  of  glass  and  stone,  and  throughout  its  exterior  was  a  lovely  marriage  of  old-fashioned  and  modern  husks  of  former  stores.  Though  he  hated  to  admit  it,  Dio  was  just  starting  to  feel  optimistic  about  the  whole  mall  project;  and  though  he'd  deny  it,  he  was  grateful  that  JoJo  had  been  able  to  spot  such  a  perfect  place.  

Beaming,  JoJo  picked  up  his  phone  and  dialed  the  realtor's  number  with  gusto.

"Hello?  Yes,  this  is  Jonathan  Joestar,  how  soon  can  we  meet  up?"

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

A  few  weeks  had  passed  since  they  had  bought  the  mall,  and  both  men  were  up  to  their  heads  in  planning!  Jonathan  woke  up  earlier  than  usual  to  brainstorm  and  found  himself  skipping  meals  just  to  finish  his  list  of  necessities  and  itty-bitty  details.  Erina  was  starting  to  worry  and  made  it  known,  frequently  reminding  him  to  sit  down  and  at  least  have  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  snack.

"After  all,"  she'd  say,  "I'm  sure  Dio  is  not  worrying  about  it  as  much  as  you  are!"

He  was.

In  fact,  he  could  be  considered  worse  than  JoJo.  He  had  switched  his  hours  of  sleep  for  hours  of  work,  substituting  most  of  his  meals  for  Redbull  and  not  even  bothering  to  dress  up  like  he  usually  did.  The  last  time  Jonathan  went  to  visit  him,  he  screamed  loudly,  for  he  thought  that  the  person  who  answered  the  door  was  another  one  of  Dio's  victims  rather  than  Dio  himself.  Thankfully,  both  men  worried  much  less  when  most  of  the  remodeling  and  minor  details  were  underway,  and  both  men  could  finally  sleep  easy,  knowing  that  there  was  just  one  more  meeting  that  needed  to  be  carried  out.

So  there  they  stood  one  Sunday  morning,  on  the  corner  of a  busy  street,  the  massive  building  situated  between  a  bumbling  city  and  a  tranquil  park,  dark  green  tape  wrapped  around  the  construction  site,  dozens  of  hardhats  moving  in  and  out  and  around  of  the  edifice.  Pointing  an  expensive-looking  manicured  nail  at  the  mall's  map,  Dio  spoke.

"So,  what  store  is  going  to  be  between  the  Payless  and  the  GreenCrush?"

"Well,  I'd  thought  quite  a  bit  about  it,  and  I  believe  that  we  should  add  a  WingStop  there!"

"Hmm....What  about  a  Hooters?"  The  vampire  suggested  mischievously.

Jonathan's  eyes  nearly  bulged  out  of  his  head.  "N-NO!  IT'S  SUPPOSED  TO  BE  A  FAMILY-FRIENDLY  MALL!"

"But  what  fun  is  a  completely  family-friendly  place?"

"A  place  can  be  fun  without  being  devoid  of  innocence!"

"I  very  much  doubt  that; there  are  going  to  be  teenagers  here,  you  do  realize?"

"Well,  they'll  just  have  to  find  some  way  to  entertain  themselves,  or  go  to  a  different  mall."

Dio  exasperatedly  threw  his  hands  in  the  air.  "This  isn't  just  about  what  YOU  want,  JoJo!  Father  let  me  work  on  this too!"  

"Then  why  don't  you  go  and  ask  him  to  help  you?"  JoJo retorted.

"FINE!  I will!"  Dio  proceeded  to  dial  his  number.  In  the  most  meek  and  sob-inducing  voice  he  could  muster,  he  whined.  

"Daddy,  JoJo  won't  let  me  add  any  stores  of  my  own!  I  begged  him  to  let  me  add  a  couple  of  more  adult  stores,  but  he  said  that  it  needs  to  be  completely  family-friendly!....Oh,  I  see....Okay...Okay!  Thank  you,  Father!"

He  snapped  the  phone  shut  and  handed  it  to  Jonathan.  "See?  I  did  ask  him  for  help,  and  I  was  told  that  it  was  perfectly  fine.  In  fact,  he  repeated  my  own  words, 'After  all,  there  are  going  to  be  teenagers  and  adults  shopping  here.'  You  can  call  him  yourself,  if  you  don't  believe  me."

Jonathan  looked  down  at  the  phone  and  pouted. 'Oh,  well  it's  just  going  to  be  ONE  store.  How  bad  can  it  be?'

And  so,  after  a  few  more  arguments  and  a  lot  more  phone  calls,  A  Hooters  was  planted  inside  the  store. And  a  Spencer's.  And  a  Dick's  Last  Resort.

Now  all  that  was  left  was  to  hire  employees.

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

He  hoped  none  of  his  co-workers  saw  him  do  this.

Clad  in  a  pair  of  black  skinny  jeans  and  a  large  grey  hoodie,  Risotto  looked  around  before  snatching  one  of  the  many  flyers  posted  around  the  city.  A  new  mall  was  to  be  opened  soon,  and  with  the  recent  pay  cuts  the  Boss  had  made,  he  couldn't  afford  most  of  the  necessities  for  their  jobs  or  for  personal  expenses.  And  being  a  man  who  hated  to  see  his  team  being  let  down,  what  better  way  to  support  them  than  to  make  up  for  that  recent  budget  cut?  So,  there  he  was,  frantically  plugging  the  digits  into  his  phone.  Just  as  he  rose  his  phone  to  his  face,  he  felt  a  small  frame  bump  into  him.

"Ow,  sorry!"

He  turned  around  to  help,  only  to  be  met  with  familiar  lilac  eyebrows  and  teal  eyes,  without  a  mask.

"Melone?!"

He  stood,  dusting  himself  off.

"Yep,  it's  me!  I  didn't  think  I'd  see  you  around  here,  Capo..."  Melone's  pleasantly  surprised  face  turned  to  one  of  curiosity  as  he  eyed  the  pale  scrap  in  Risotto's  palm.

"What  is  that?"

"Oh,  it's  nothing,  just  a  small  concert  I  was  thinking  about  going  to."

"Oooh,  may  I  see?  I  bet  it's  another  one  of  those  underground  metal  bands  you  like-"

The  tall  man  stepped  back  as  Melone  reached  for  the  paper,  making  him  nearly  fall  in  the  process.  He  pouted,  questioning,  "What's  so  wrong  about  it?  It's  just  a  band-"

"Yeah,  but,  um- I'm  kind  of  embarrassed  about  it,  you  may  not  like  it..."

Melone  rolled  his  eyes,  "But  it's  just  a  name,  how  bad  can  it  be?"  

"Ummm..."  Groaning  internally,  Risotto  decided that  it  would  be  best  just  to  give  it  up,  but  alas,  the  scrap  of  paper  was  missing  as  he  went  to  hand  it  to  Melone.  He  gasped,  "Where'd  it..."

Melone  giggled,  holding  the  paper  in  front  of  his  face,  "Got  it.~"

He  skimmed  over  the  paper  as  Risotto  looked  on  nervously.  "So,  a  second  job,  huh?..."  Risotto  slightly  stammered  over  his  words,  soon  being  cut  off  with  a  "Count  me  in!"  

"What?"

"You're  not  the  only  one  who's  thought  of  this,  Capo.~  I've  been  looking  for  a  while, too.  So,  put  in  a  good  word  for  me,  if  you  please."  He  smiled  up  at  him.

Still  in  a  bit  of  shock,  Risotto  hesitated  before  finally  picking  up  the  phone.  

"Hello,  Mr.  Joestar?  My  name  is  Risotto  Nero,  and  my  friend  and  I  would  like  to  apply  for  a  job  at  your  mall,  specifically..."  He  glanced  down  at  the  scrap  and  swallowed  his  pride.  

"...Specifically  at  the  Hooters."

#jjba fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo's bizarre adventure #phantom blood #jjba phantom blood #crack fic #Melone #Risotto #johnathan joestar #dio brando #george joestar #erina pendleton #la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #mall fanfic #mall au #stands exist #o shit i wrote something #femboy hooters coming soon #Another Jojo Mall Fanfic

[hispeculiartreasure]

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Thirteen | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 3,540

Chapter 13/24

Warnings: Language

AN: Spanning the time of Bucky’s entire on-site training, this chapter is pretty different from anything I’ve ever done before. I have a sneaking suspicion y’all are really going to enjoy it. Lemme hear your thoughts when you’re done!

Chapter Twelve

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

July 7, 1946

Dear Bucky,

I can already imagine the panic on your face when I hand this to you at the train station this afternoon. I hope you take my assurance that it isn’t a Dear John letter seriously. I just wanted to give you something to read on your long trip to Pennsylvania. A 10 hour train ride to Pittsburgh and then a 2 hour bus ride to New Castle, I think you told me? I know you packed some textbooks but one can only do so much studying in a 12 hour window - you’ll go crazy. And I’d really appreciate it if you returned semi-sane. But I also wanted to circumvent any uncontrollable emotions I may have during a goodbye, no matter how temporary it may be. In short, you’re very welcome.

I know you’re a big brave combat veteran but I also know this training is a big deal for you. It’s all new material, a new place, new people. A lot of change in a really small amount of time. No matter how much you insist that you’re fine, I’ll still commend you for facing this challenge head on. And I’ll be in your corner as long as you’ll let me. Hopefully you’ll be so busy that you forget about any discomfort you may have.

I have to admit, I’m a bit jealous of you. You know how tough work has been the last week. With Anderson piling more tasks on me while he’s been mysteriously out of the office and Flannery being even more strict on how the office is run after the Fourth of July debacle, my job has been exhausting. What I’d give to leave it behind for a while, to learn useful, practical skills. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be - well, I guess I already had my turn, huh? I’m hoping you’ll let me live vicariously through you over the next month. Write to let me know all about what you’re learning and how you’re feeling about it, if you want to. Who knows, you may be able to teach me a thing or two when you get back. But not more than two. That’d be far-fetched. Don’t forget, I did teach you everything you know.

See you in 34 days. That’s doable, right? What am I supposed to do with myself with all this free time? You’ve put quite the cramp in my social life, apparently. I’ll have to see what kind of trouble I can get in without you.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Be good,

Your Girl

July 8, 1946

Sixth Floor,

Gotta admit, you shoving a piece of paper into my hands as you pushed me onto the train did take me by surprise. After the split second of panic I realized you’d miss me too much if you let me go. But in all seriousness, thank you for writing that letter. Kinda felt like I got to carry a little bit of you with me here. That’s cheesy. Nevermind. 

I haven’t written a letter since I was discharged from the army, so I apologize if I’m a little rusty. It’ll be especially strange since my CO won’t be reading it or redacting any information. I’ll have to get Becca to show you some of the letters I sent home - most of the time half of what I wrote had been blacked out due to “sensitive information”. Towards the end of the war my letters were short and sweet, just telling everyone I was alive and okay. I don’t get the impression that the teachers here will have much interest in my mail. Time will tell. But I do remember in the beginning that writing down things that had happened to me over there was helpful. Like I could get a tragic event out of my head with just a pen. Writing down helped make sense of it somehow. Hopefully these letters will have the same effect.

While I technically wrote this on the train, by the time I get this to a post office I’ll have made it to New Castle safely. When I was young we never traveled very far out of the city, so ironically the most “country” I’ve seen was in Europe and it was nowhere near as pleasant as here. Places that have had the ever-loving shit bombed out of them can hardly be called pleasant. Maybe getting out of the city will be good for my head. Like you said, being able to get away from the usual responsibilities to focus only on this training will be a nice break, I think. And a vacation from washing windows. I’m gonna get spoiled.

You called me on my bluff and I like to think I’m an honest man. To be real honest with you. . . I’m nervous. Part of me wonders if I even have what it takes to finish out this training. But I’ll take your word for it. If you think I can do it, you can’t be completely wrong, can you? And don’t worry, the problem won’t be ‘how long will Bucky keep me in his corner’ but closer to ‘will Bucky ever let me OUT of his corner?’. The answer will probably be no. To be determined.

Don’t be afraid to share about your days, too. Maybe it’ll make me a little less homesick, if I get to that point. And I know your days will be infinitely harder without me there by your side. Whatever will you do? I really wish you could be here, though.

33 days better pass quickly, for your sake and for mine. 

Yours,

Bucky

July 12, 1946

Dearest Bucky,

If you can’t actually address a letter with my real name instead of using “Sixth Floor” I’m going to find an embarrassing nickname for you so the postal worker snickers when they hand letters over to you, see how you like it.

It’s been a fairly innocuous week. A quiet one, that’s for sure. Just been trying to keep my head down and avoid Anderson as much as I can. Suzy has dragged me out for dinner and drinks a few times to keep me busy. She says hi, by the way. And she demanded I tell you that if you don’t come back soon, I’m going to drive her crazy with my “mopey-ness”. Also, you owe her a drink for cheering me up while you’re gone - she’ll collect when you return. The other girls are doing great; Alice got married and is moving upstate with her husband, so we’ve got a new girl taking her place. She seems sweet, but extremely shy and quiet. Hopefully she warms up to us soon.

Funnily enough, it’s my turn to write a letter on a train. Earlier this week Mom called and complained about not seeing me often enough since I moved into the city, so I’m on my way to Tarrytown. I hadn’t realized I’ve stayed in town every single weekend since we’d gone steady. Guess I’ve had a good reason to keep my plans open, huh? 

Mom also fished around for when I’d come back next even though I haven’t even arrived yet. In her round-about-way, she hinted that she wants me home for Halloween. I can’t blame her, I’ve never not been home for the festivities. I was going to buy my ticket in advance and began to wonder if I should buy two. One for me, one for you? I mean, if you would like to visit Tarrytown with me the weekend before Halloween? The 31st is a Thursday, which puts a damper on things, but it’ll still be a blast. Mom mentioned wanting to meet this “mysterious new friend” that’s kept me in New York so often.

Since I had the pleasure of meeting your family, I thought I should return the favor and ask if you’d like to meet my parents? If that’s something you’re not comfortable with, I understand being that it’s way ahead of time and a fairly intimate situation. I’m sorry, I’m not being very eloquent am I? You don’t need to make a decision. Just think about it.

How’s it been? Are you getting along with everyone? Tell me everything!

We’re down to 29 days, but that still feels far too long. 

Truly,

My Name is Not Sixth Floor

July 17, 1946

Dear Sassafras,

Buy 2 tickets to Tarrytown. I’m looking forward to spending Halloween with your folks. You’ll have to try a lot harder than that to scare me off.

Have we gone steady? I don’t remember asking you. Did you hypnotize me? Please advise. (Hopefully you can read my teasing tone and not leave me heartbroken as a result of this horrible joke)

Tell Suzy I’ll happily buy her a drink as long as she keeps guys in bars away from you, huh? All is well here. The guys are okay, but they’re not you. No one is you. But chatting passes the time and they’re easy enough to get along with. It’s interesting to see all the different paths that have led us here, all our different motivations. There are people here from all over. I thought I had to travel a long way, but the guy from Maine’s got me beat. His letters take longer to travel too, makes me grateful I get to hear from you fairly often.

I know this doesn’t come as a surprise to you but the training has been tough work. Motor oil is permanently stained into my skin, I’m convinced. But I have to admit that everything you taught me gave me a definite leg-up on most of the other students. I was the only one who could replace a spark plug successfully on the first try. They didn’t believe me when I told them my girl showed me how. Obviously they don’t know my girl.

I was daydreaming the other day about something you whispered to me at Steve’s birthday dinner. It was right after you had finished chatting with Peggy. You kinda tucked yourself into my side when you slid back into the booth, you just grabbed my hand almost wondered out loud, ‘What kind of cake do you like? I wanna know so I make sure you get in on your birthday’. My birthday isn’t even until March, but you were still thinking about me and wanted to have the little bit of info to save for later. The fact that you had ‘for later’ in mind . . .  I think about that a lot.

How are we only at 24 days? Seems like time should be passing faster.

Always,

Bucky

July 22, 1946

James Buchanan,

You’re right, that is a terrible joke. Never do that again or you’ll find I’ve died of a heart attack. Ya big tease.

Speaking of Steve, I dropped by y’all’s apartment on my way home from work to return that book I’d borrowed and we ended up talking for a while. It’s funny, I don’t know if I ever voiced this to you, but he is absolutely nothing that I expected him to be. We were so engrossed in talking about art and literature that I ended up staying way longer than planned, making him late for dinner with Peggy. Hopefully she wasn’t too upset about it. He’s so easy to be around, to let my defenses down with him. I’m really really glad you have him in your life, Bucky. He’s solid, he’s kind, he’s loyal. Knowing him by knowing you has been a treat.

Not to be a downer, but things with Anderson seem to be turning worse. I’m getting up my nerve to talk to Flannery about it. He’s been extra grouchy and demanding. Either he’s raging in his office or he disappears for days at a time. I can’t pick up the slack anymore. And the way he’s been eyeing the new girl - did I tell you her name was Marjorie? I can’t remember - makes me anxious. Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to kick up a fuss, but I’m also reaching the end of my rope and want to look out for the other girls.

Anyway, on to happier things. I remember my hands were covered in all kinds of stains for a while after training, too. Have they taught you to weld yet? That was one of my favorite lessons, welding to fix damage or create a new part. Glad to hear you’re working hard and learning a bunch. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little smug at my having played a small role in your success. I knew you had it in you. Now please don’t prove me wrong out of spite.

You’re such a sweet talker, Barnes, you’re gonna make me shed a tear before this is all over. Of course I think about the ‘for later’s. I like learning the little things about you. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the big picture stuff, we forget about the small details that are even more a part of making us who we are, ya know?

By the way, I’ll kick your ass in 18 days for addressing your letter to Ms. Sassafras Pants. If you won’t properly address, I won’t properly sign. Do you even remember my real name at this point? I got some input from Steve and he recommended a nickname, but it was too offensive for a postman’s eye to put on the outside of the envelope - contrary to popular belief, I do have a reputation to uphold. I’ll let him write it in the postscript. 

Always yours, 

Sixth Floor

(I’d rather be Sixth Floor than Sassafras)

P.S. I only told her to call you a dumbass. -SR

July 27, 1946

Sixth Floor,

I hope you appreciate your proper name on the envelope this time. But please let me keep calling you by your nickname inside. Sound like a deal?

Anderson hasn’t made you feel unsafe, has he? Are you okay? Do I need to send Steve over to teach him a lesson? I trust you’re fully capable of looking after yourself, but a visit from Captain America couldn’t hurt, could it? You know he’d be there in a heartbeat if you asked.  I hope the conversation with Flannery was helpful. Keep your eyes and ears open, your gut feelings are usually right. Lemme know what I can do, I feel useless sitting all the way in Pennsylvania.

 I feel like I’m starting to get overwhelmed by all the information. Training isn’t over for a couple more months, I know that, and having Harvey’s help makes me feel a little better. But some days I wonder if I’m cut out for this. If I’m smart enough for it. Can I even fake it good enough to pass? Sorry for rambling. Just processing, I guess. Don’t know if I could ever say that out loud.

But did you know they’re starting to talk about putting telephones in the radios of cars? Isn’t that crazy? And apparently new models are going to have power-operated windows. Guess the future is coming fast. I’ve also discovered that I hate carburetors with every fiber of my being and they hate me back. The majority of the time it feels good to work with my hands, to keep my brain busy. As an aside, when were you planning on telling me you knew how to weld? Envisioning you handling a welding gun is both adorable and incredibly attractive. Is that too much? Probably. Oh well.

I miss you. 2 weeks left ‘til I’m home. August 10th, please come quick.

Thinking of you,

Dumbass

P.S. Steve - write me letters your damn self if you miss me so much. Dumbass. 

August 1, 1946

My dearest Bucky,

I get to see you this month - that feels so good to say! We’ve almost made it! Given the timing of our past letters this is probably my last one before I get to hug you. I miss you so much, but honestly, writing letters has been fun. Our relationship blossomed from only speaking with our hands and mouthing words, and here we are now, only using the written word. We’ve come full circle, huh?

Truly, I don’t think I’m in danger at work. Just extremely irritated and on guard. I don’t feel the need to involve Steve at this point, or Peggy. Let’s be honest, she could take him down in the most satisfactory way that would definitely tarnish the symbol of Captain America. You’re sweet to worry, though. Just keep listening, that’s all I ask right now.

I had dinner with Becca last night. I hope that’s okay, I don’t want to cross any kind of boundary that would make you uncomfortable. We had such a pleasant time, though. I feel like we are both so very similar, having overcome a lot of the same struggles. We bonded over our parents worrying about us ending up as old maids and the trouble they had with us working rather than homemaking. Your mom sent cookies with Becca. To be fully transparent, I definitely ate the entire sack that night. Think Winnifred will teach me her ways? Also, I had no idea how interesting being a telephone operator is - the stories Becca had to tell about the people she interacts with! She’s a saint and hilarious and I adore her. She also had some incredibly interesting stories about you. . . we should discuss how angry Monopoly makes you. . . I’m tempted to play a game with you, Steve, and Peggy - I’m aware that could rocket us into another world war, but it’d be fun to watch, no? 

I don’t have the words to describe how proud of you I am. I know it hasn’t been easy, I know change can be hard. I know you have doubts. But you are so close to finishing, to reaching a major milestone in your career. I have full faith in you - you can do this. Me, Harvey, Becca, Steve, and everyone else is rooting for you. And if it doesn’t work out, so what? You tried something, you put in work and effort. Finding something you don’t like is just as helpful as finding something you do. You have other options, you always do. I mean, we know you are an impeccable window washer, so. . . Whichever way you decide to go, I’m with you for the ride. 

Only 9 days left. I can’t wait to see you at the train station.

Affectionately yours,

Sixth Floor

August 6, 1946

Darling Sixth Floor,

The more I think about it, the more I realize that being here has been helpful in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. I’ve bounced from being surrounded by family, then an army, the Commandos, and back to family, I haven’t really had space to figure out who I am away from all of that. I’m still working on finding that out, but the breathing room has been. . . enlightening. Is that word too hoity-toity? Probably. Oh well, you can make fun of me for it in a few days. As nice as it’s been to get away from the city, my fingers are itching for New York. Doesn’t hurt that you’re there.

You having dinner with Bec doesn’t bother me a bit. I’m a little worried you’ll like her more than you like me, but I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Whatever she told you about Monopoly is a lie - I did not throw anything, she is the agressive board game addict. Unfortunately as per the Howlies, Peggy and Steve are not allowed to play Monopoly together. We tried when we were snowed in to camp one winter and I’m not exaggerating when I say they almost killed each other. Well, Peggy almost killed Steve. Those nails of hers are lethal, you know.

Ma would be thrilled if you asked her to help you bake, although you will be in danger of her never letting you leave the kitchen ever again. The woman has a lot of wisdom to impart and all the time in the world. This may sound weird but. . . I like you getting along with my family. Not sure why. But it feels nice, having you fit in so seamlessly.

One of the guys recently asked how long we’d been together and I really had to think about it for a second before answering. Not to wax poetic, but it’s strange to me that we’ve only known each other since April. Four months of knowing you and continuing to know you every day. You’re so familiar to my life now, I can hardly imagine a time when you weren’t in it.

Thank you for having faith in me. Thank you for being an encourager. Thank you for opening up this new life to me. The world has only gotten brighter since you walked into that skyscraper all those months ago.

By the time you get this, I’ll probably be within a few hours of home. But as of this moment, I’ll see you in 4 days. I can’t wait.

See you soon,

Your Window Washer

Chapter Fourteen

TAGS:

@moderapoppins @lookwhatyoumademequeue @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @thinkwritexpress-official @fearless2tobeme @laneygthememequeen @past-perfect-future-tense @drhughgrection @promarvelfangirl @connorshero @anditwasjustus @p3nny4urth0ught5 @usernamemingmei @the-canary @thorfanficwriter @blueskiesbleakeyes @silverwing2522 @satansmushroom @nerd-without-a-cause @firewolf-marvels @reginaphlanageadams @kiliakit @forsaken-letters @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @part-time-patronus @biavastarr @ellaenchanted91 @ihopeyousteponarosepetal @bloatedandlonly @barnestruck @itsbuckysworld @captainsbuck @writemarvelousthings @havanaangel @animeflower26 @igotkatiepowers @clockworkherondale @mcueveryday @buckybarneshairpullingkink @cassianpeia @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @russian-romanova @yknott81 @bellamys @xmarveled @barnesrogersvstheworld @abovethesmokestacks @ursulaismymiddlename @sarcasm-ing @hiddles-rose @thisismysecrethappyplace @palaiasaurus64 @fanfic-diaries @fangirlfictionmain @majesticavenger @creideamhgradochas @lucyyannabel 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #All We've Got is Time #beka writes #Chapter Thirteen #AWGIT

[mustangshelby04]

Boston Boy - Chapter 11

A/N This is a long one, guys! But enjoy this fluff, because I’m throwing a curveball at our favorite couple in the next chapter.

Chris and Scott waited on the couch for Kate to finish collecting the things she would need for her show that evening.  The last three days had flown by and Friday evening had snuck up on her.  Kate had shown Chris pretty much everything he’d wanted to see and then some.  He said he loved the artsy feel of Richmond and that he couldn’t wait to come back.

The Allens seemed to really love Chris.  They had had dinner together the last two nights.  Jan was finally starting to warm up to her sister’s boyfriend. Bill had come home one day from work to take Chris out to lunch.  Through the hour and a half meal, Kate’s step-father had grilled Chris on his intentions with Kate and how their relationship was going to work with all the obstacles in their way.  If anything, it had scared Chris some, but it hadn’t shaken his resolve to have a relationship with the man’s daughter.

Kate looked at herself in the mirror again and checked for anything that might need to be added.  She had chosen to do her makeup at home since the upstairs of the venue where the performers hung out as their backstage area would be freezing and she didn’t feel like trying to do eyeliner with shaking hands.  Her hair was up in rollers and when she took them out, she would just spray some hairspray in them to have large vampy waves resting on her shoulders and spilling down her back.

“Need some help, babe?” Chris asked, standing in between the screens between the bedroom and the living area.

“Um….” She appeared at the top of the stairs and he let out a loud whistle. “What?”

“You look hot!” Her eyebrow quirked up and she looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What?  You do!”

Scott appeared behind his brother and gave her a growl. “That glitter eyeshadow is fierce!  How did you do that?”

She shook her head at them. “You’re both crazy.”

“That’s beside the point.  What can I grab?” Chris asked, looking at the duffle bag, garment bag, and long gold box that held her feather fans sitting on her bed.  Her makeup bag was in her hand.

“I guess all of that on the bed is ready to be put in the trunk.”

“What time did you need to be there?”

“Seven.”

“It’s a good thirty minute drive, right?” He glanced at his watch before he picked up the garment bag. “We need to leave soon.” “I know.  I’m just making sure I have everything.  Scott, can you grab the lighted mirror out of the middle cabinet up there?”

“Sure.” Scott was headed that way when she disappeared in the bathroom again.

Chris walked in a few moments later and stood in the doorway, watching her tie a pink handkerchief around the curlers. “You look gorgeous.”

She looked at him in the mirror. “I’m so nervous.”

“You’re going to be amazing.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen your videos.” He put his hands on her hips and gazed at her over her head in the mirror. “Just breathe.  This is just like any other show.”

“Except its not.  My private life and my burlesque life are about to collide in a major way.  I try very hard to keep them separate because people are crazy these days.  I don’t need another stalker and I….”

“Another stalker?  You’ve had one before?”

“Yes.  It didn’t get serious enough to take to the police, but I did have to threaten him with it once.  He’s been gone for a couple of years now.”

“What happened?”

“I met him on this online dating site and he seemed really nice, but when I met him in person there just wasn’t anything there.  I saw him as someone I could be friends with, but there just wasn’t any romantic spark.  He didn’t understand that, I guess.  He would always push things too far.  I finally cut him off, but he still tried to contact me on my phone and any of my social media sites…. He contacted my friends and a couple of my family members. He’s the main reason I take such care to keep my private and public life separate.”

“Do you not want me to come?”

Kate turned and looked up at him. “No!  I want you there.  I’m just nervous and babbling.”

He reached up and gently held the sides of her face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “A thousand times yes!”

“Ok.  So let’s get moving.” He kissed her quickly, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

There was already a line forming in front of the venue.  Chris and Scott, loaded with her bags, mirror, and feather fans, followed her inside.  She stopped to wave and say hi to some of the people there that called her stage name out.  Inside, the place was busy with a performer doing a run through onstage, the door people were getting the till ready, the bartenders were getting set up, a few performers were helping set up chairs and watching the run through, and Dalia was in the back going through the set list with the sound guy.

The raven haired producer of the show grinned brightly and let out a squeal when she spotted Kate. “Kitty!” The two women embraced tightly. “Thank you so, so, so much for doing this!  You saved my ass.”

“No problem.”

“That Boston air did you right.  You look fantastic!” Dalia looked over at Chris and Scott. “Who are these big, strong hunks?”

“Dalia meet my boyfriend Chris and his brother Scott.”

Dalia leaned in and whispered, “Your boyfriend looks a lot like Captain America.” She looked over at Kate and Kate just grinned at her. “Are you serious?”

“Kitty Kat!” Amy quickly finished her descent down the stairs and rushed up to hug Kate tightly.

“Harley!” Kate laughed.

“All right, where is he?  You promised I’d meet him.” Amy turned to look at Chris and Scott and her jaw dropped. “Holy shit!  That’s….”

“Chris and his brother Scott.  Guys this is Dalia and Harley.”

“I’m so confused right now.” Dalia said, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Amy smacked Kate’s shoulder. “Are you serious right now?”

“Ow!” Kate said, rubbing her shoulder.

“You’re the Richmond girl he’s been dating?”

“Apparently.”

“Oh my god!” Amy went to smack Kate’s arm, but Kate dodged out of the way. “How in the world…. What…. When…. Boston!?” “Yes.”

“Hi, Harley.” Chris said, tucking Kate under his arm to protect her from another slap. “It’s nice to meet you, Harley, and you, Dalia.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Dalia said. “I don’t even know what else to say right now.”

“Holy shit, you’re Captain America!  I just love your movies.” Amy said, shaking Chris’s hand emphatically. “I can’t believe you’re standing here and dating my friend.  You guys are dating, right?”

“I would say so, yeah.” Chris laughed.

“Did you hypnotize him?” Amy asked Kate.

“Yes.  With my klutziness.” Kate said.

“It started off rough, but it’s been smooth sailing lately.” Chris said. “Where do you want us to put this stuff?”

“Upstairs.” Kate said.

“I’ll show you.” Dalia said, giving Kate a wide eyed look as she led Chris and Scott to the stairs.

Amy watched them for a minute then turned back to Kate. “What. The.  Hell!?”

“It’s a long story.” Kate said.

“We’ve got time.  The doors don’t open for another hour.”

“I’ve got to finish getting ready.”

“Come on!  I’ll help you, but you’ve got to tell me everything.”

Kate sighed and allowed Amy to drag her up the stairs.  Dalia had directed them to Kate’s usual spot near the windows.  Scott was plugging in her mirror and Dalia was trying desperately not to stare at Chris. “Hey, D?  Scott needs a ticket.  Chris is my plus one.”

“I didn’t bring my usual plus one.” Amy said. “Scott can be mine.”

“Oh, thanks.” Scott said.

“You can repay her by buying lots of raffle tickets.” Kate said.

“There’s a raffle?”

“Yes there is.” Dalia said. “It’s a good one tonight.  Speaking of, Kate, I need to bring you posters to sign for the VIPs and the raffle winner.”

“I’m on the poster?” Kate asked. “That was fast.”

“I had to rush order it for tonight, but yeah.  You’re on the poster.”

“Cool.”

“I’ll bring you the set list, too.”

“Who’s kitten for tonight?  I need to get with her about set up.”

“She’s new.  Her name is Peachy Keen.  I’ll send her up.  I gave Jax the cues for your numbers already.  You might want to double check with him.”

“I will.” She waited till Dalia was at the stairs before she turned to Amy.  Her friend was desperately trying not to gawk at Chris. “Amy.  Hi!  Wanna come with me to check on my cues with Jax?”

“Huh?  Oh!” Amy shook herself. “Yeah.”

Kate looked at Chris and Scott. “Do you guys want anything from the bar?”

“We’ll come check out what they have.” Chris said.  He and Scott followed Amy and Kate back downstairs, stopping at the bar while the women continued on to the sound booth.

“So, you met him in Boston?” Amy asked.

“Yeah.” Kate glanced back at Chris laughing with his brother. “We literally bumped into each other and I landed in dog poop.  He was a perfect gentleman.  Gave me his jacket and walked me back to the hotel.  Then he asked me to dinner to apologize and we just…. Hit it off.”

Amy’s grin widened. “I always knew you and him would be so compatible if you could just meet.”

“I bet a lot of people think that way.”

“Yeah, but you are living the dream.” Kate glanced at Chris again and saw him covertly watching her with a smile on his face. “He’s head over heels for you.”

Kate smiled to herself. “That’s a new look.” Jax said as they stopped at the sound booth. “You’re glowing.”

“Did you see her boyfriend?” Amy asked. “Captain Freaking America himself!”

“Yeah.  I saw that. Congrats.”

“You’re being very chill about this.”

“How else am I supposed to be?  Ok, Miss Monroe, let’s go over your cues.”

Ten minutes later, Kate and Amy headed back upstairs to finish getting ready.  Chris had bought her a Bold Rock Hard Cider and kissed her before she’d gone upstairs. She and Amy chatted while Amy worked on Kate’s hair.  Occasionally, the other performers came up to say hi and introduce themselves and some asked if she’d seen that there was a “super-celebrity” downstairs.  Amy was quick to make sure they knew he was Kate’s and to leave him alone.

Finally, Kate was able to join Chris again a few minutes before the doors were scheduled to open.  He gaped at her for a moment. “You look….”

“Hot!” Scott interjected.

Her first costume was a custom-made bra top in a pretty pattern of green, black, red, and purple.  She had an underbust corset on that was littered with rhinestones in multiple colors. The skirt was made up of black spandex spankies that had strips of multicolored fabric pinned to it.  The front strips were only in a single line while the strips in the back were layered on top of each other to create a Victorian bustle effect.  When she moved, the strips bounced and waved.  She was wearing five inch green heels with a purple ribbon tied around her ankles like the ribbon on ballet slippers.  Her legs were accentuated by nude colored fishnets.

“Thank you, Scott.” Kate purred, trying to slip into her Kitty Monroe persona.

Chris shifted his weight, moving his hips slightly and clearly trying to readjust himself. “When do you go on?” “We’ve got another hour till the show starts and I’m the fifth act on.  I close out the first half and I close out the show.  I could smack Dalia for that.  She knows I hate closing the show.”

“Why?” Scott asked.

“Cause that’s too much pressure.  That’s where the headliner goes usually.  I’m not a headliner.” “This poster says different.” Scott held up one of the posters he’d bought from Dalia.  Her friend and mentor had put Kate’s picture in the middle of the others and made it slightly bigger with her name in bold letters around the image. “Would you please sign this?  I’m a huge fan!”

Kate giggled. “Of course.” She walked behind the bar and grabbed a silver Sharpie to sign the dark colored poster with.  Scott produced a second one for her to sign that he’d gotten for Chris.

“Can’t wait to sell this on eBay when you’re famous.”

“Quit embarrassing her.” Chris said, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Fuck this corset is stiff.”

“Clearly you’ve never done a period piece beyond the 20s.”

“Nope.”

“And this is looser and easier to wear than my Tudor corset.”

“Chris sent me pictures of that.” Scott said. “You looked amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Peachy Keen, the kitten for the evening, timidly walked up to Kate. “Um, Kitty, can we go over your set up again?  I just want to make sure everything is right.”

Kate smiled. “Yeah.  Excuse me, guys.” She kissed Chris quickly and followed Peachy behind the stage.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris and Scott cheered loudly as Kate took a bow at the end of the show.  Dahlia had just brought each of the performers back out on stage for their curtain call.  The audience was going crazy along with the Evans brothers.  Dahlia waited until the audience had calmed down and then took a moment to thank the entire cast for being there before thanking Kate personally and calling her a lifesaver again.  There was more applauding and the photographer took pictures of the cast as the audience filed out or waited to meet them.

Scott ran out to the car and grabbed the large bouquet of stargazer lilies Chris had hidden in the trunk.  When he came back, Chris was waiting in the lobby area where the vendors were set up. Kate was in front of the stage in the next room smiling, laughing, and taking pictures with people.  A bachelorette party had come to the show that night and they were currently begging for pictures with Kate.  Chris was watching her with a goofy grin on his face as he posed for a few pictures himself and signed a few autographs.

“She looks like a natural in front of people.” Scott said, handing Chris the bouquet.

“Yeah.” Chris said.

“She might actually be able to handle your day job.”

“Yeah.”

Scott laughed at his brother and waved at Kate when she looked over at them.  Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the bouquet of her favorite flowers.  Chris wiggled them at her with a smile and she excused herself from the group of people around her.  

She made her way over to Chris and he handed her the bouquet with a sweet kiss. “Chris, they’re beautiful!  Thank you!”

“You were incredible, baby.  I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“Neither could anyone else.” Scott said, kissing Kate’s cheek as he hugged her. “There was a moment you made me seriously contemplate going straight and giving this guy a run for his money.”

Kate laughed. “Thank you, Scott.”

Dahlia walked over and gave Kate’s arm a squeeze. “I’m going to head up and start doing the books.  Are you guys cool to wait around?”

“Is it ok if we don’t?  Can you PayPal me?  I want to start packing and head out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  I’ll see you later.”

Dahlia blew Kate a kiss as she headed for the stairs.  Amy walked up to them with a big grin on her face. “I think this was the best raffle we’ve ever done.  You two are the talk of the night.  Everyone wants a piece of you, Kitty.  I swear I’ve been asked more about you tonight than I know the answers to.”

“Oh.” Kate glanced at Chris. “Weird.”

“Don’t worry.  I’m keeping my mouth shut.  It’s none of their business.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you guys heading out?”

“Yeah.  We’ve got an early morning and a long day tomorrow.”

“Chris, when are you and Scott leaving town?”

“I’m leaving Monday morning.” Chris said. “Scott is catching a red eye tomorrow night.”

“Harley, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Scott said.

“Me?” Amy laughed. “It was a pleasure meeting you two!”

“Quit drooling.” Kate said, playfully nudging her friend’s arm. “We’re going upstairs to pack.”

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris, Scott, and Kate sat around her living room later that night surrounded by the remnants of their Taco Bell trip watching one of the late-night talk shows.  Kate was curled up with Chris under a white fuzzy blanket on her recliner while Scott lounged on the couch.  Chris enjoyed the smell of her freshly washed hair and skin and didn’t mind that her still wet hair was soaking through his t-shirt.  The fingers of his left hand drew random patterns on her hip while the fingers of his right hand entwined with hers.

“You two look like you’ve been doing that for years.” Scott said.

“Yeah?” Chris asked.  He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her just a little tighter. “I hope we’ll get that chance.” Scott gave his brother a huge grin.

“After we get done taking pictures in the morning,” Kate said, her face a soft pink from blushing at Chris’ words. “Chris and I were planning to go to Williamsburg and spend the day.  You up for that, Scott?”

“Of course!” Scott said. “I’ve got a rental car coming in the morning, so I’ll just follow you around.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to leave you guys in the late afternoon. Chris is taking you on a date tomorrow evening.”

“He is, is he?” Kate looked up at Chris and he smiled back innocently.

“Way to give my secret away, bro.” Chris said, tossing a cinnamon twist at Scott’s head.  Scott actually caught it in his mouth and grinned at them. “Yeah, I made us a reservation at Le Yaca.  That’s the place you were telling me about with the food you love, right?”

Kate smiled. “Yeah.”

“Scott is going to take you shopping for a dress to wear tomorrow at the outlets you were telling me about.”

“I volunteered to be your gay BFF.” Scott said proudly.

“I don’t have one of those, so thanks.” Kate laughed.

“My pleasure!”

She looked at Chris. “What will you be doing while we’re shopping?”

“Buying myself a suit.  I didn’t bring one and Scott forgot.” Chris said.

“I said I was sorry.” Scott said.

Kate let out a yawn that threatened to split her face in two. Chris chuckled. “Ok, I get the hint. Bedtime.”

“I wasn’t hinting.” Kate said. “I didn’t even mean to let that one slip.”

“Come on,” Chris wriggled out of the chair and helped her up, grabbing the blanket and setting it on the vacated recliner. “We’ve got an early morning and it’s already one in the morning.”

“Here,” Kate pulled the coffee table out and then pulled the bottom of the couch out.  She pushed the back of the couch down and the whole thing turned into a full-sized bed.  Chris had gotten a fitted sheet and a comforter out of the laundry room and set it next to the couch.  He picked them up and handed them to Scott.

“That’s a cool couch.” Scott said.

“Ikea.” Kate yawned again and Chris bent over suddenly, tossing her over his shoulder.  She squeaked in surprise and he laughed.

“Good night, Scott.” Chris said as he carried Kate towards the bed.

“Night, guys.” Scott laughed.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The photoshoot didn’t take long that morning.  Only a couple of hours.  Chris and Scott had been a huge help.  They’d shown the two women some better poses and held the reflectors in just the right spots.  They’d gone to the Richard Bland campus and taken pictures in the Japanese garden there. Chris had managed to fall into the stream leading to the pond and his entire backside was soaked.  It had ended the shoot in laughter.

They’d gotten to Williamsburg by eleven in the morning and had spent the day roaming around Colonial Williamsburg.  They’d attended the witch trial and gone to the silversmith. Chris had bought a silver locket for Kate with her initials engraved on it.  He’d made her promise to wear it on their date that evening.  

After spending the majority of the day in colonial times, they’d gone to the outlet mall and split up.  Scott and Kate had gone through stores like whirlwinds.  They picked a pretty ox blood colored, cotton, fit and flare dress with long sleeves made of lace.  The hemline hit just above her knees and the neckline was a V-neck that complimented her graceful décolletage.  They’d chosen a pair of nude pumps to go with it.  There wasn’t a makeup store in the outlets, so Scott took her to the JCPenny Sephora a few miles away to get a quick makeover.  He pulled half of her hair back and pinned it with a jeweled bobby pin he’d grabbed from JCPenny.

“Ok, my work is done.  Let’s get you to your date, Cinderella.” Scott declared.

“Does that make you my fairy godmother?” Kate asked, following Scott out to the car.

“Of course it does.” He held the door open for her before climbing into the driver’s side.  After he put in the address on his GPS and started driving, he said, “Kat, I gotta tell you, I’ve never seen my brother happier.  It’s hard to believe that it’s only been two weeks since you guys met.” “I have a hard time believing that myself.”

Scott glanced at her. “I don’t want to scare you away because I like you a lot.  You make my brother happy.  I just feel like I should at least give you a heads up about his lifestyle.” She nodded, trying not to seem nervous. “It’s not exactly easy to deal with.  Well, it’s not always easy to deal with.  Most days are good, but he is away a lot and people pull his attention in a million directions at once.  Sometimes he forgets to even just check in with the people he cares about.  It can be a little frustrating.  Then there’s the tabloids and the paparazzi.  They’re not all nice.  I know he’s managed to protect your identity from the media, but that’s not going to last for much longer.  Hopefully they’ll leave you alone.” Kate nodded again. “Eventually he’ll take you to a premiere or a red-carpet event.  You might have fun with that, though.  I watched you handle the people at the show last night wanting pictures with you and you seemed pretty good at it.  Being on a red carpet is basically the same thing just…. More.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being honest with me.”

Scott eyed her for a moment. “Oh god!  Are you going to break up with him?”

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “No!  Definitely not.  I want to have a relationship with Chris.  I want the bad with the good.  I just appreciate that you didn’t sugar coat any of it.”

“I’m telling you, if you two can cope with the long distance thing, then you’ll go the distance.” Scott pulled into the parking lot and they spotted Chris waiting at the front door.  The younger Evans brother reached over and gripped Kate’s hand. “I’m really glad he met you.”

Kate smiled and kissed Scott’s cheek. “I’m really glad I met him, too.”

“Go get him, Kitty.”

She laughed as she got out of the car.  Chris waved at Scott as he pulled away then turned to Kate. “Wow. You look gorgeous.”

She reached up and adjusted his tie. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.” He was in a dark grey suit with a red tie that matched her dress. She suspected that Scott was to thank for that. “Did you and Scott have fun?”

“Yeah!  He’s a really good shopping buddy.”

Chris laughed. “Are you ready for our big date?” He held his arm out.

“Of course.” She took it and let him lead her inside.  The place was busy, but they were escorted to a small, private room in the back of the restaurant where it was quiet.  Chris held her seat out for her and pushed it in before sitting down across from her.

“I’m glad we dressed up.  This place is fancy.”

Kate shrugged. “At dinner time it definitely is, but around lunch time it’s a little less fancy.  I’ve seen people here in jeans.”

Chris opened the menu. “So, what’s good here?”

“Everything.” She laughed as she opened her menu. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything bad here.”

A waiter came to bring them water and see if they wanted anything else to drink.  Chris decided to order a bottle of wine.  The chef came out to their table and introduced himself.  The man had a heavy French accent and was delighted when Kate started speaking to him in his native language.  Chris watched her converse with the chef in French with a look of awe.

Kate looked at Chris. “He suggests the beef tenderloin and the salmon.”

“Salmon for the lady and beef for the gentleman.” Chef Tournet said. “She tells me her system can no longer handle la viande rouge.  Si triste, mon cher!”

“Red meat.” Kate translated.

“Oh.  Right.” Chris chuckled. “Well, then that’s what I’ll get with the salad.”

“Et je vais avoir le saumon grillé d’Ecosse.  Avec aux salad, aussi.”

“C’est bon!  Le garçon will bring your bread tout suite.” The chef kissed her knuckles before heading back to the kitchen.

Kate looked back at Chris and laughed. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t know you spoke French.” Chris said.

She shrugged. “A little bit.  When I worked in hotels, I met a lot of French Canadians.  I had eight years of French from school, so I would talk to them in French as best I could.  They always helped me where I stumbled and I ended up kind of fluent in it for a while.”

“Sounds like you’re still fluent.”

“I could probably get around Paris if I needed to.” The waiter brought out a basket of fresh baked French bread and a small plate of unsalted butter.  They thanked him and each grabbed a piece. “Their bread is amazing.”

“It smells amazing.” Chris said, holding his slice under his nose. “My trainer is going to kick my ass.” He bit in and made a quiet groaning sound, crossing his eyes comically.  She laughed at him and he grinned back. “It’s delicious.”

“I told you.”

“So you did.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Kat, I am ridiculously happy that I met you.”

She blushed crimson and looked down at their clasped hands. “I’m happy I met you, too.”

“So, it’s been two weeks and you said at the end of the two weeks, you would decide if you were going to send me packing or give us a shot.  I’m fairly certain I know the answer, but I would love to hear you say it.”

“Oh, I’m sending you packing.  For sure.  I just wanted to have some fun with Captain America.” Kate said, trying to stay dead serious.  Chris just raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned. “Ok, you got me.”

He actually blew out a breath. “You almost had me.  Your poker face was good.”

She laughed. “We’re going to do this, right?  Try our hardest to make a long-distance relationship between us work?”

“I’m willing to put in the effort if you are.”

“Definitely.”

“I have a small request, though.”

“What’s that?”

“If I want to spend money on you, like for gifts or airplane tickets, you won’t get mad at me for it.  I know you like your independence, but you’re allowed to accept gifts from people. Especially your significant other.”

“I know.  I don’t mean to get pissy about it.  I really don’t.  It just takes me off guard.”

“That makes me sad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.  It’s just what you grew up with, with your dad and everything he put you and your mom through.” Chris took a deep breath, but before he could say what was on his mind, the waiter brought their salads out.  He looked down at it and cocked his head. “There’s grapes!”

Kate laughed. “Yeah.  Trust me, they complement the vinaigrette dressing.”

He looked at her skeptically, but took a forkful of lettuce leaves and half a grape and popped it into his mouth.  After a moment of chewing, his head began to nod in approval. “Wow.  That is good.” Kate smiled and took a bite of her salad. “So, listen, I have something big to tell you.”

“The Academy finally acknowledged superhero movies and they’re giving you an Oscar for playing Cap?”

Chris laughed and shook his head. “It’s actually not about me. It’s about you.”

“Me?  What did I do?”

“I sent your pictures off to some photographer friends of mine. They all really, really like your work and Danielle wanted to know if you would be willing to meet with her.”

Kate blinked at him for a minute. “Why?”

“Why does she want to meet with you?”

“Why did you send those pictures off?”

“Because your pictures are amazing.  And you love taking them.  Watching you this morning, baby you glowed because you were having so much fun. I loved seeing that side of you. I wanted to see if there was any advice they could give you about successfully breaking into the photography field.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Danielle works with some of the biggest names in the world.  She answered me back yesterday and raved about the pictures I sent.  She really wants to meet you.”

“Why?”

“She apparently has an opening for an assistant and second camera. She loved your pictures so much, she wants to interview you.”

“This is a lot to take in.”

“I know.  I’m sorry. I was just really excited about your pictures and….”

Kate gave his hand a squeeze and stood up. “I need to go to the restroom.”

“Kat….”

“I’m fine.  Really. I just need to pee.” She turned and headed into the bathroom.  It was empty, thankfully, and she moved into the bigger of the two stalls.  Chris was handing her the opportunity of a lifetime: A chance to take pictures and learn the ins and outs of being a real photographer and be happy with her career.  A chance to do something huge with her life.  She shouldn’t be so freaked out about it, right?

There was a knock on the bathroom door and a moment later, the door opened and Chris said, “Kat?”

“You’re in the women’s restroom.”

“Yeah, I got that.  I also get that my girlfriend is hiding in here.” Kate stood up and flushed the toilet. She walked out of the stall and over to the sinks to wash her hands. “Are you hiding?”

“I did actually have to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh.”

Kate tossed the towel in the bin and kissed him quickly.  They headed back to their table and once they were seated, she looked across the table at Chris. “Ok, I was also hiding…. Just a little bit.  I needed to process while I went.  I wish you would have talked to me first before you sent the pictures.”

“I should have, but I didn’t send them out for you to get a job interview. I wouldn’t even presume to force that on you.  I honestly just wanted them to give you advice and help you weigh your options.”

“Did your friend actually like the pictures or did she just say she liked them because you sent them to her?”

“She actually liked the pictures.  Danielle doesn’t fool around.  She’s not fake.  She was very enthusiastic about what she saw.  She sent me an email and then called me when I didn’t respond within an hour.”

“Where is she based?”

“New York.” Kate blew out a breath.  He reached over and took her hand. “Kat, I really think you should go for it. You’re insanely talented and you said yourself that you feel like a drifter in your own life because you don’t know what to do with your talents.”

“This a lot, though.  Like…. A lot.  I mean, if I was to get the job, I would have to uproot my entire life. Leave my friends and my family. Move to a city I’ve only ever visited….” She looked at him and chuckled. “Well, I guess you know all about that.”

“A little bit.”

“I would need to talk it over with my family.  It would be a big change for them, too.”

“Of course.”

“And I need to talk to Danielle, I guess…. Schedule a meeting with her for one weekend.”

“You’ll like her.  I promise.  I really think you’ll be amazing at it, Kat.”

“You may have too much confidence in me.”

Chris gave her a grin. “You need to have more in yourself.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kate sighed as Chris ran his fingers down her arm. He pressed kisses to her shoulder as he gently pushed himself into her again.  Their lovemaking was slow tonight, both of them wanting to savor every single moment.  She shuddered against him as he dragged himself along that sweet spot inside of her. Turning her head, she brought his lips to hers again and again.  

Chris pulled his face back when he tasted salty tears. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry.” Kate wiped them away. “I don’t mean to.”

“Kat….” His sentence trailed off as she fluttered around him.  He pulled out of her and pulled her backwards to lay on her back.  Moving up and settling himself between her legs, he pushed into her again.

“You’re too far away.” Kate reached up and pulled him down to her.

“I don’t want to crush you.”

“I just want to feel every inch of you.”

“We’ll see each other again soon, baby.” He brushed another tear off her cheek. “I promise you.”

“I know.  These two weeks with you….” Her fingers dug into his hips as he grazed that sweet spot again. “They’ve been the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Fuck….” He kissed her deeply. “The best is yet to come.”

“I know.”

“Do you know how lucky I am to have found you?”

She laughed, which made them both groan in pleasure at the vibrations it caused. “I think I’m the one that won the lottery.” A tear leaked out of Chris’ eye and landed on her forehead.  Kate reached up and pulled his lips down to hers again. “We shouldn’t be acting like this is goodbye.”

“I want to savor you.” His teeth scraped behind her ear.

“Chris!”

He chuckled and she shuddered, raking her nails on either side of his spine. “Do you need more, baby?”

“I need you.”

“You have me.” She whimpered and Chris finally relented.  He moved faster and pushed harder.  Their grunts and groans became animalistic.  Sweat broke out on their bodies.  Finally, hours later, they laid in the moonlight and stared into each others eyes.

“How has it only been two weeks?” Chris asked, running a hand through her hair. “I feel like I’ve known you my entire life.”

“To be fair, I’ve known about you for a good portion of mine.”

He chuckled and kissed her. “That is true, but you feel what I feel, don’t you, Kat?”

Kate stroked his beard, adoring the look of hope in his eyes. “I do feel it, Chris.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t want to leave this bed.”

“So don’t.  Stay here.  We can be like the grandparents in Willy Wonka.”

Chris laughed quietly, pulling her closer against him as he started to drift off. “You’re ridiculous.”

She kissed the hollow just below his neck. “You’re ridiculous, too.”

Tag List

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog 

@jamielea81 

@southerngracela​ 

@kelbabyblue 

@introvertedmouse​

@tfandtws 

@deidrahouseofpain

@lovinevans​

@ajosieface​

@sullyosully

#Chris Evans #Kate Allen O/C #Chris Evans/Kate Allen #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #Boston Boy

[hexlikesramennoodles]

15 or 27 on the 50 kisses list + harringrove please

15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick; 27. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

Author’s note: this takes place in the same universe as my fic This Jelly. I hope that’s okay with you, Anon.

“It’ll be something in the roof,” Billy announced. He ran his finger around the edge of the windowsill, over the places where rainwater had soaked through the plaster, browning the paint and flaking it away. “A loose tile, I’m willing to bet.”

“Huh,” Steve said. He was only loosely paying attention; Billy’s jeans hung low on his hips, and his chest was bare save for the chain from which his AA medallion swung. Steve had missed that medallion. He missed the sight of Billy’s naked chest even more. It had only been about four days since they’d last seen each other, but somehow the time felt much longer.

“I can go up there later, if you’ve got a ladder. Wouldn’t want you to fall and break your neck.” Billy stepped away from the window, trailing stray paint flakes from his fingers. “Sound good?”

“Huh?” Steve startled, blinking and wetting his lips. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good, man.”

Billy sidled closer, cocking his head. He had this weird obsession with being clean—meaning clean hair, clean nails, and clean-shaven skin whenever he saw Steve outside of work. He steam ironed his shirts, and wore cologne that made Steve’s eyes water with how strong it was. Steve knew it went deeper than Billy simply wanting to look nice for their dates—he also didn’t want to become his father. Neil Hargrove had let himself go long before he remarried. He smoked, ate badly, and didn’t brush his teeth. His breath had smelled like he was rotting inside. I don’t want that to be me, Billy had told Steve once. I’ll fuckin’ kill myself before I become what he ended up becoming.

Steve didn’t know how to tell him. After a long morning on the construction site, Billy smelled of sunshine and sweat—not dirty sweat, not how Steve’s gym socks used to smell after three nights of basketball practice, rank and in definite need of a good wash—no, this smell was somehow deeper, purer in its base notes. Animalistic. His skin had taken on this lovely, bronze sheen, mixed in with the chalky dust of crushed gravel, and Steve didn’t know what it was—black magic pheromones, body chemistry—whatever the fuck was seeping from Billy’s pores in place of his usual soap and cologne, it smelled downright fucking erotic. God, Steve had missed him.

“Anything else?” Billy said, his head still cocked.

“Uh.” Steve stared around his bedroom, his tongue feeling as large as a golf ball in his throat. He pointed to the wall socket next to the nightstand. “Yeah, uh, I think there’s something wrong with the electricity. My phone—it’s plugged in, but it’s not—”

Billy’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Well, it might help if you turned on the power first, pretty boy. Like this.” His knees creaked as he bent down, flipping the switch above the socket. Steve did not have the grace to feign shame; the new angle gave him a perfect view of Billy’s ass. “I’m still on the clock. Is there anything else you need before I—”

“My pipes,” he blurted wildly. “My pipes aren’t, uh, working.”

Billy’s eyebrows shot up. “Your pipes?”

He rose so quickly from where he was kneeling that Steve took a step back, his thighs hitting the edge of the bed. “Steve,” Billy said slowly. He closed the distance between them with an outstretching of his hand, flicking Steve gently between the eyes with his fingertip. “Did you remove the roof tile on purpose?”

“Wha—” Steve scoffed. “No—"

Billy’s finger flicked him again. “You know, if you wanted to see me that badly, you coulda just called me?”

“Calling isn’t the same as seeing.” He caught Billy’s hand in mid-air before it could chastise him a third time, turning it over and splaying his fingers across his palm. Most of Billy’s tattoos were, by his own admission, dumb—the product of a teenage boy’s poor impulse control and complete lack of regard for the self. Others were more personal. A grayscale portrait of his mother on his chest. His grandmother’s birthdate above his hip. A row of coordinates printed across the underside of his index finger, the skin around it still red and half-healed. Billy’s mom had been born in Central Valley, but she’d died in L.A. Those coordinates were her birthplace, the side of Billy’s family he’d never known.

Steve had wanted to be there for him. He’d assumed he would be there, as Billy’s boyfriend. It hurt, realizing that he hadn’t seen Billy for four days, hadn’t heard shit from him, and in that time frame Billy had gotten the tattoo without saying anything. It had made Steve feel stupid—humiliated.

He didn’t know how to tell Billy that, either. They’d only been together for three months. They hardly knew each other. If Billy had been Nancy, she would call Steve controlling. She would sit him down, and give him a long, sharp lecture about a woman’s right to choose.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. “I feel like I never see you. You don’t visit after work, you don’t come into the bar …”

Billy made a pained noise. “Baby, you know I can’t spend too much time in bars. You know I want to, but—”

“I know.” Steve’s throat was tight with an all too familiar dryness; he knew what it meant. “I’m sorry. I know. I just—”

“You’re just upset,” Billy spoke over him. “Because I work too much. And because I’ve been neglecting you. Haven’t I?”

Steve’s current streak was three months, the same amount of time they’d been exclusive.

It wasn’t without struggle. Instead of the closing shift, Steve was now bartending at the Hideaway during the day. Instead of staying out with Robin until the early hours of a Sunday morning drinking and smoking and talking absolute shit, he spent his Saturday nights at home, doing whatever he could to distract himself from the paranoia that came with going cold turkey, the tightness in his throat that made him want to peel his skin off. In the first month, Billy had been that distraction. He would wait for Steve to come home, they would fuck, and Steve would sleep the whole night through without needing a glass of wine to wash it down. He’d been too smitten to consider the logistics of the arrangement he’d stumbled into. He was still smitten, but as far as he could tell, Billy had gone cold.

He was a workaholic. They both were; idle hands, so to speak. Only now Steve was working three days a week instead of six, which meant he had a lot more time to miss Billy when he wasn’t there. A lot more time alone with the paranoia. Billy worked upwards of twelve hours a day, and more often than not he was too exhausted to do anything at Steve’s apartment aside from pass out on his bed. He didn’t feel like Steve’s boyfriend anymore. He felt like a roommate, sexless and distant. Steve fucking missed him.

Sobriety offered an unpleasant reality. In it, Steve was convenient. Little more than a motel that Billy could crash overnight when he was too tired to drive. Billy had liked the chase initially, the back and forth, but now that he had Steve, he was complacent. Bored. This new reality wasn’t entirely removed from the old one—Billy was pretty. He was surrounded by men all day, most of whom were married—but even the married ones had to have noticed how pretty he was. From a distance, it would be all too easy to mistake him for a girl. Steve hadn’t realized he had a type, until he met Billy. He hadn’t realized how little he knew about himself—his wants and his needs, his likes and his dislikes, his passions and his hates. That was just Billy. He walked into a room and smiled at everyone, looked into their eyes when he spoke to them. He made people feel special, even when he wasn’t trying. Even when he couldn’t care less.

“Steve,” Billy pressed. “Are you upset?”

He had that look in his eye. That look that made Steve feel particularly stupid, airless, like his throat had closed over and he couldn’t remember what he was going to say next. It occurred to him that he might be in love with Billy, and that without his former mechanisms of coping—talking shit with Robin, self-medicating with wine and cigarettes—there to bear the brunt of uncomfortable emotions, he was feeling them all at once, much too strongly. That look coupled with that voice Billy used when they were alone—low and breathy, coaxing Steve to c’mon, sweetheart, that’s it, be good for me—the look that plainly said, resistance is futile.

“What were you gonna do?” he said. He squeezed Steve’s hand, his mouth twisting like he was trying to hide a smile. “Flood your whole goddamn apartment?”

“I mean. It was enough to get your attention.”

“For future reference, I prefer flowers. Less, uh, mess.”

“I like flowers,” Steve said defensively. “Maybe you should think about getting me some, the next time you decide to disappear for, like, a week.” Slow down, he told himself, but the more he thought about it, the less he could hold the words in. “You know, sometimes I feel like we’re—we’re in a long-distance relationship? Even though you work right fucking next door?”

“You are upset,” Billy sighed, rubbing his jaw. His eyes stayed crinkled at the corners as he looked Steve up and down, his expression fondly irritated. “How long has it been since you last had a drink, huh?”

“Three months.”

“Three …” Billy stopped, then licked his lips. “The whole time?”

Steve set his jaw, and nodded. There was a long, loaded pause.

“You should’ve called me,” Billy said finally. “I didn’t know—Steve, why—?”

“Because I had to. You said it didn’t matter, but—but if I can’t see you because you can’t be where there’s alcohol, because you might relapse, then … what’s the point?” Steve flattened his palms over Billy’s chest, quelling the urge to squeeze his nipples until they hardened and turned red. “Haven’t you ever thought about how different our lifestyles are?”

Billy’s hand fell away from his face. He licked his lips, studying Steve’s palms with soft fascination. His voice was noticeably smaller, more unsure when he asked, “Cigarettes, too?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “So if it’s okay with you—yeah, I am upset that you’re working a lot. You’re never here, Billy. You’re not … present. And I didn’t sign up for that.”

“Flowers,” Billy said at once. “That’s what you signed up for. Flowers, and chocolates, and candlelit dinners. Fuck. Fuck.”

“That comes later. Ideally.”

Billy let out a high-pitched, slightly giddy laugh. His hands dropped to Steve’s hips, pulling their bodies flush. He walked Steve backwards, until Steve found himself sitting on the edge of the bed with Billy’s thighs planted on either side of his hips. “Tonight,” he suggested, his necklace tangling in Steve’s hair. “Six o’clock. Enzo’s. I’ll make sure I finish early. And …”

“And?”

“And when we get back, I can take a look a look at your, uh,” Billy paused, his eyes crinkling and his mouth turning into a real smile as he pressed a chaste kiss below Steve’s ear, “pipes.”

He nosed over Steve’s neck, kissing his way back across to his mouth. The effect was shamefully instantaneous; the anxiety that had been plugging Steve’s throat dissipated, and he found himself spreading his legs to allow Billy to settle more comfortably between them. Billy’s mouth was rough when it reached his lips, the way he knew Steve liked it; he pulled on Steve’s bottom lip with his teeth, then soothed the bite with a rasping lick of his tongue that had Steve shuddering and spreading his legs wider, not wide enough.

“Five minutes,” he said breathlessly. “Can you stay for five minutes?”

He’d thought what he had with Nancy was love. Nancy had never kissed him the way Billy was kissing him now, though. He rocked against Steve’s crotch, threaded his hand through his hair so that Steve was forced to lift his chin to look at him, could see the way his cheeks were flushed, his eyes dazed, dark circles. He kissed Steve’s mouth, kissed his eyelids and his nose and his temples, and said, “Make it ten.”

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #my writing #i still have 2 more of these to write so if you're one of the anons who sent me a prompt and i still havent responded #i am getting to them! slowly slowly #modern!au #inbox #writing prompts

[nln4]

two - a sidesteps parallel universe fic

In which @ratastrofiend‘s Paris and Mikoto pair up for some wacky villain hijinks Word Count: 2442 Rating: T for team, of which there is no “eye” in. TW: eye horror, death

---

In the darkness of the secluded hallway, his armor glows bright enough that he has to crouch out of the way to avoid detection. He’s been relegated to look out duty (which he promptly grumbles about in his mind, loudly enough for you to hear) while you prepare your part of the plan - breaking into the security network of the tower that houses a treasure that he apparently needs.

How he ropes you into the plan is beyond you. It starts with a series of texts over a couple of weeks, which you oblige, since you were naturally curious. 

[>Can you look for security exploits in X Tower??]

[>Why??]

[>I’ll pay you.]

It’s not like you need money. You’re not quite as obscenely rich as he is, but you live a comfortable enough life. 

[>In ice cream. Lifetime supply.]

Fuck, he’s got your number. 

But presently, the glowing gold pulsing lights in his armor are really throwing off the dark-vision of your helmet cams and you wave him further away so you can focus on the task at hand. 

“You know, we’re supposed to be sneaking in,” you think, thankful that your powers provide a built in communications system. Frequencies can be dialed in to, conversations can be heard when spoken aloud. “You’re going to draw guards to us like moths.”  

“Look at me,” he thinks, with a gesture to the gold and white armor that adorns his body, a beacon in the darkness. “Does it look like I sneak?”

“Maybe it’s something you should consider,” you retort in your mind, quickly unscrewing a metal panel. Behind it are ports, usually meant for on-site maintenance (a poor design choice that made this mission actually possible). 

This particular panel is the closest from the rooftop entrance that you two entered and so far, the plan is working well. Sneak in, shut down security systems silently, sneak out. That’s your usual MO and the only way you would agree to his plan at all. 

“You have nanovores,” he thinks viciously, pointing to the housing cage on your wrist. “Why not actually use them? And can’t you hurry it up? The second round of guards are coming soon.” 

“First of all,” you think back, plugging in an ethernet cable into the port connected to a miniature laptop. “No one is supposed to find out we’re here, so a hole in the middle of a metal panel would be out of the question. And secondly, no, I can’t, these computer systems are slow as shit, they’re probably still running on last century’s operating system.” You’ve never quite understood how some of the world’s supposedly most valuable secrets were guarded by a computer running on decades-old software. 

…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ !! Don’t rush! the Rat King squeaks. It’s a chorus of voices, both yours and his, and behind your helmet, you grin at the fact that both sets have your back. 

“You shut up,” he thinks, pointing at the containment unit on your helmet, absolutely annoyed. 

“Don’t be mean!” 

…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Yes, no mean!

He taps a booted foot impatiently, cursing up a storm in his head. But the back of his mind is running a series of numbers, almost like a clock ticking down; he must be keeping track of foot patterns, time schedules of when the next wave of guards are set to make their rounds. You have to shield to focus on the puzzle in front of you. 

Finally the command prompt opens, cursor blinking and you start typing.

“What, no ‘Virus Uploaded’ screen?” he jokes. 

“You know full well that’s not how it works, asshole,” you think, still typing. Your helmet helps you parse through lines of commands, making sure there are no mistakes as you work and you silently thank Dr. Mortum’s genius. 

“They’re coming,” he thinks and your vision splits, half focusing on the screen in front of you, the other half watching him shift his position into one ready for attack. 

“Give me two minutes,” you signal, holding two fingers up, almost a peace sign. 

“You have one,” he snarls in his mind, head looking back over his shoulder at you before turning the corner to dispatch the oncoming security guards. 

“Once again, not how it works!” 

But 120 long, long seconds later, your rootkit is installed and you quickly unplug cables, screw the metal panel back into place. A few feet away, he leaps into action, with the grace and precision of a hunting predator. He drags four unconscious bodies away and sends a mental blast through their minds so hard you can feel it almost rattling your brain in your skull. They’ll have a blinder of a headache tomorrow and you don’t envy them one bit. 

“Safe room,” he thinks and you nod. The rootkit lurks silently in the system already, and the first job was to record the last ten peaceful seconds and feed a loop to the CCTV cameras. Fortunately, the safe room is only one floor below and the two of you move silently down the stairs. You’re almost reminded of your old Farm days, back when you worked with the HIVE Squad. Certainly, your little ragtag mob don’t move in the same way as trained little soldiers do. The two of you move as one seamless unit, with him taking point and you keeping an eye (and a mental feeler) for anything following from behind. If just one of you can wreak enough havoc on Los Diablos on your own, two telepathic powered villains could dismantle entire regimes. 

He holds a fist up and you pause, the both of you waiting before rounding the corner to the safe room. You try to pick up any waves, any presence lurking nearby but there are none and it seems like he’s satisfied with the current situation as well since he starts down the hallway to the safe room without you. 

“Thanks for the heads up,” you think, walking fast to catch up to him, hoping your mental voice is tinged with enough sarcasm. Sometimes it doesn’t quite pick up; you’ve found that mental and physical inflections can vary. 

He doesn’t look back, merely shows you his middle finger over his shoulder and you stick out your tongue, grateful for your helmet. 

“I still saw it. We’re telepathic.” 

“Dammit.”

The HUD on your helmet shows that it’s been a good five minutes since your plan has started, which means that the next step should start any…

...second…

...now.

One floor down, your helmet picks up the sound of electronic distress noises, computers alerting their human handlers of a massive DDoS on the tower’s servers, but the attack is just a smokescreen to turn their eyes away from the security breach that’s about to happen. 

“Code?”

“875639,” you think and you watch as he takes out what appears to be an eyeball, complete with dangling optic nerve, from a compartment on his belt. 

He wiggles it teasingly at you and you grimace. “Look.” 

“Eugh!”

“It’s a Mod,” he clarifies and upon closer inspection  (the optic nerve just a connective wire), it is, and you wince at the poor sap who has lost their sight twice now. The power from his armor is enough to bring the singular Mod back to life and he holds it up to the retinal scanner. The safe door blinks green, accepting the security measures and a pneumatic hiss issues as the metal door swings open. 

For a second, your mind wavers, like a dampener being turned on too close by but you chalk it up to weird physics. Perhaps two Sidesteps are not mean to occupy the same space at the same time. You look to him to see if he notices anything but it seems like he doesn’t.

According to schematics, there should be motion detectors and alarms, but those have been turned off by the rootkit. Inside the safe is a metal briefcase and you have to wonder what it houses. Whatever it is, it’s valuable enough that he’d come all the way here to get it. 

But since he’s preoccupied with the case, you see the gun before he does and you don’t get to warn him fast enough before he lifts it. The displaced weight snaps a rope and in turn pulls the trigger, like some fucked up Rube Goldberg machine. You shove him out of the way as the bullet streaks past and bite back a curse as it pierces through the joint of where the chestplate and pauldron meet, where your suit happens to be less armored. What are the odds, you think. 

“Well, well,” a voice behind you says, with the signature click of a cocking gun. “Instead of one little mouse, I’ve caught two.” 

You recognize the slimy voice, even without seeing the person - Javier Xuan, notorious business mogul. Corrupt as they come in these parts. He has a news segment where he extols the wonders of “his” inventions that makes you turn off the television every time. 

“What do we have here?” Xuan continues. “Do you like my little trick? Old fashioned, but it works--” 

Apparently Paris is a quicker draw than you are since he yanks the gun from the rudimentary rig and fires, point blank into Xuan’s forehead. You stare in horror as the man crumples lifeless to the ground, a marionette with its strings cut. 

“Huh,” he muses coldly, staring down at Xuan’s body. “He was in his office in my world.” 

“Paris!” you think in alarm. “What have you done?” 

You look to him and his helmet may hide his face, but his thoughts are furious with rage, incoherent enough that you can’t get a handle on them. His Rat King chitters incessantly, trying to soothe him. 

Klaxons blare and lights flash red around you, and you know you’ve done your job perfectly to turn off all of the security, so there must be a separate system - sure enough, Xuan’s Modded eye pulses red in time with the flashing lights and you have to hold back a bitter laugh. A Mod with a dead man’s switch. You suppose he must have dampeners installed as well, as he escaped your mind sweep earlier. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice distorters turning it into a low growl. 

“Yeah,” you reply. There’s blood seeping into your skinsuit but you’ll live; the nanomesh weave acts like a bandage until you’ll peel it off later. You’ve had plenty worse. You’ll live to see plenty worse too. 

He crouches down and plucks out this Xuan’s modded eye as well, claws on his armor serving him well. There’s a sickening sound as he takes the trophy. 

“Sorry we didn’t see eye to eye,” Paris gloats, waving the Mods in the dead man’s face before shoving both of them into the utility compartment on his suit. 

“Paris, that’s disgusting.” 

He shoves the body further into the safe room, locking it without even a glance back, and you have to marvel at the lack of remorse at all. Just another mission complete. 

“Well then, let’s get out of here.” 

---

“Did you really have to kill him?” you ask, leaning back in the ragged computer chair in your warehouse hideout. “Now there’s going to be an investigation, and guess whose ass the Rangers are gonna go after? Me!”

“He was already dead in my world,” Paris says loftily, taking a strip of gauze from the first-aid kit for cleaning. “Might as well have a matching set. Now hold still.”

He daubs at the wound (not terribly deep but still left a good angry tear in your arm) and deftly applies antibiotic with a cotton swab. He has to sit close enough to you to treat your shoulder and from this distance, you can see stubble growing along his chin. Dark eyes gaze from under long lashes and you have to begrudgingly admit it’s a good look on him. And you think he hears you, since he smirks, the asshole. 

“Ow!” you yelp. His fingers move quickly against your skin but the ointment still stings like hell when it makes contact. 

“You big baby,” he says, signature sharp-tooth grin stretched across his mouth. “Get over it.” 

“Might I remind you that I took a bullet for you,” you grit out, fists clenched. 

“Please, it barely grazed your shoulder.” 

“Barely??” you say, indignant. “Look at it!” 

“I am looking. Of course, I’d rather play doctor in a different way,” he says, taping the gauze in place. “If you weren’t being so difficult.”

You flip him the bird with your good hand, remembering his gesture from earlier and he lightly bops you on the nose in return. You take back everything you thought earlier about him looking good because he’s as infuriating as he is handsome. 

“So, what’s in the case?” Although you think you might have an inkling, with Javier Xuan’s recent billion-dollar investment in GeniTech. 

“Something one of a kind,” he says, placing the final pieces of medical tape to secure the injury. “But I needed two.”

“So you decided to hop dimensions to get another one?” you ask, incredulous. “Will that even work?”

“Who knows. Only one way to find out.” His grin is brilliant as he looks at you, obviously pleased that his plan played out well. 

“I feel sorry for your Los Diablos,” you say dryly, sliding your hoodie on carefully and trying not to disturb your arm. 

His eyes study your shoulder, and there’s an odd, almost tender look in them. How is it that the both of you are telepaths yet it’s so difficult to tell what he’s thinking? 

“What?” you ask, and your tone is a little more caustic than you meant it to be. His eyes have moved from your shoulder to your face and you have to fight to keep from flushing. 

“You get a new scar now,” he says. “That one will be our story.” 

“Please go.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to stem off your headache. The entire mission has been a headache. “Back to your world. Now.” 

He leans down to draw eye level with you, hyena grin on his face. “Aw, I was going to kiss it better.”

“Leave!” 

He throws his head back with joyous laughter as he takes the suitcase and merrily walks to the doors but before exiting, he turns back. “Get some rest! I believe we have an ice cream date,” he says with a wink. 

“I fucking hate you,” you call as he vanishes, and you sink back into the chair, adrenaline finally running out and weariness hitting your bones all at once. 

But you smile anyways. 

#fallen hero: rebirth #sidestep #mikoto uehara #jace paris #my writing

[make-it-mavis]

Ghost Towns

Wreck-it Ralph/Ralph Breaks the Internet AU 2010 words Characters: Make-it Mavis (the narrator, who describes Vanellope, Ralph, Turbo, Felix, and implies Maribo, @nijimarii‘s OC) Content warnings: Major character death, cruel words, non-graphic descriptions of violence and mild blood

Premise: Make-it Mavis was sentenced to cabinet arrest in Fix-it Felix Jr. for life after living under disguise in Sugar Rush with Turbo for fifteen years. Too tired and heartbroken for any more villainy, she resigned herself to living out the rest of her days with her cousin in a relatively dormant state. That is, until acts of carelessness in 2018 lead to Sugar Rush being unplugged, and her vengeful outrage reawakens something terrible. She recounts her actions in one final letter to the man she loved and lost.

>Fanfic title is a reference to this song<

22/11/2018

4:53 AM

Hey.

So… it’s been a while since I did one of these, huh. Hope you haven’t found some way to be pissed about that. I like singing to you better, but I don’t know if you could hear me from down here. Not that you could read this letter, either, but… just let me forget I’m talking to myself for a few minutes. I just miss you so damn much. I wish you were here with me -- I’ve never felt so lost and alone in my life.

I’m not sure where to begin explaining where I am and how I got here. It’s so unreal. It’s fantastic and horrifying all at once. It’s like an arcade that goes on forever in all directions, but with thousands upon thousands of games inside it, bunched up in clusters and stacked into massive towers. There are sprites out here, but they’re not sprites. Gamers, but not gamers. We always wondered what the world outside Litwak’s Fun Center must be like, and… I think this is it. I think the very Devs themselves live out here.

I guess that means I made it out. I’ve been dreaming of this since I was plugged in. My lifelong dream… doesn’t feel like a dream right now. Unless it’s some buff-induced trip.

As I write this, I’m nowhere good. They call it the “Dark Web.” It’s dark, it smells, and its cramped. The only colors around are from the “colorful” characters that stalk around down here, and I mean that in the most metaphorical sense. It’s like the arcade’s reject horror game enemies came down here to nest in their own filth. I hate it down here, but I can’t seem to leave. There’s a whole lot of world up there that I don’t feel ready to face.

The thing is… I can never go back to the arcade now.

I did something. I had to do it, but no one back at the arcade would understand that. I’m sure you would have, if you heard why. So I’ll tell you why.

Sugar Rush was unplugged.

Yeah. The remaining cabinet’s wheel broke in half. Litwak pulled the plug right away. Not all the candy citizens made it out. I can barely stand to think about the ones we lost. So many of my performers, all the animals, even that special kid of mine… gone.

All the big racers made it out, at least. I wanted so badly to be with my kids and find a way to make them smile, even just to see them again, but you can imagine why I wasn’t allowed to. Instead, Felix and his wife elected to adopt them. My kids. Our kids. Cramped up in a tiny apartment, no cars, in a game without a track. No way to race. No way to follow their code. Thinking of them going through the same code withdrawal that you did just breaks my heart. They don’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve any of this.

And guess whose fault it was.

Guess who didn’t even CARE.

Six freakin’ years was all it took for the rotten little glitch to decide she was bored of Sugar Rush. After fifteen years of wanting nothing more than to race on its track. She had no freakin’ concept of the gift that kingdom was. No idea what an honor it is to rule over it. You and I worked so hard, risked our freakin’ lives for Sugar Rush, and even after the invasion of 2012 that unmasked me and literally killed you, what does she do? She bitches and moans and whines until that insecure, selfish, nine-foot dumbass of hers game-jumps to literally punch a detour into the ground so Princess President wouldn’t be bummed out.

She had a choice to make, there. She could have realized that as the game’s leader, she had a responsibility to keep it safe, even more than any other racer. She could have finished the race and waited until the arcade closed to go try out Wreck-it’s new track. She could have done the absolute bare minimum to protect the game that she was so lucky to have.

No.

She defied the gamer and drove off course. In-game.

She had our entire world in her hands. My one real home. Everything left in the world that I loved.

And she killed it.

Out of boredom. With no remorse for the lives she ruined, for all the lives that didn’t make it out. All she wanted to do was cry about not being able to race anymore. That alone was motivation for her and her lumbering dumbass friend to run off into the internet on some impossible quest to give her back what she never deserved in the first place.

But… I followed them.

I convinced Surge to let me into the internet if I promised to never come back. Have it be my exile that gave me freedom and gave the arcade safety. It was an easy promise to make. There’s nothing left for me in the arcade. I was locked up in a game I never loved, with sprites who never loved me. I never had any visitors. I had no purpose. I had no… you. My memories and a good view of Sugar Rush were all I had. Even through my rage over what Wreck-it and the glitch had done to you, to me, to our world… the one thing I could hold onto was the fact that Sugar Rush was still standing, and someone was looking after it. That was the only thing keeping me from wringing the little glitch’s neck. Sugar Rush needed her.

With that gone… nothing was stopping me anymore.

So I did what I had to do. I left what remained of my world behind. I came to this insane internet world. I tracked those two down.

I made them pay for what they did.

The fight wasn’t easy. It wasn’t quick and quiet like it was with King Candy. It was an ugly mess. There was screaming, there was crying, there were short chases, there were chunks of metal and building parts hurled at me. But in the end, I won. I had them both trapped under my thumb, so much that I could have slit both their throats and went on my way. But they didn't deserve that. They deserved so much worse, and in their last moments, I made sure they knew why. While she was still alive to hear it, someone had to hold Von Schweetz accountable for what she'd done. Just once.

And Wreck-it… back in 2012, he tore my whole life away from me. He killed the man I'd loved for thirty years. He gave my home to a child who could not care for it, then came back to help her destroy it.

In my head, I'd already sentenced him to death six years ago. But for him, I could think of no punishment more fitting than to kill her first.

Like we should have done twenty years ago.

So, here I am now… finally free of their poison. I'm sitting alone in a dark alley, splattered with blood, processing it all. It’s barely been a few hours since I did it. I can only tell because most of the little “sites” down here have clocks… otherwise, it feels like time’s stood still. Like reality’s just taking too long to load. It’s not that I’m freaked out by what I’ve done. Not at all. I expected to feel something, but… I kinda don't. I’d known Wreck-it my whole life. We were coworkers. We used to go for drinks at Tapper's and rag on Gene together. But as I carved into him, felt the spray of his blood, watched the life leave his eyes… he was a stranger to me. I felt nothing. I felt like I was finally taking care of a chore that had been on my to-do list for too long. I’m not sure what that says about me, but I don’t really care. Good or bad isn't real anymore. They deserved to die, and I killed them. I'm not sorry for that.

I’m not sure why I’m hiding down here. There’s no way anyone could find me in the internet, even if I was implicated, which I won’t be. I killed them in a pretty badass-looking racing game, and their bodies glitched away. There was only one witness -- some weird little sprite that I convinced to help me find them. I kinda liked her, so I didn't kill her. But she won’t be telling anyone anytime soon. I made sure of that.

Maybe the sprites back at Litwak’s will make assumptions when Wreck-it and Von Schweetz don’t come back, since it’s no secret that I’ve hated them for years. Maybe. Fix-it Felix Jr. will be unplugged for sure, and I think that's my one regret. Felix doesn't deserve to lose his game. He's the last living sprite who still loves me… but the whole world loves him. He'll be okay. He’s got his wife, the Nicelanders, and the entire arcade to support him. I just hope he looks after the kids. I miss those sweet little monsters.

Sugar Rush will be wheeled away out the door and out of existence. And as far as the arcade’s concerned, I’ll be going with it. I feel like that's only fitting. That was the world I truly belonged in. If my world is leaving the arcade forever, then… I am too. Just like I always dreamed.

It's just that I always pictured you coming with me. The fact that you're not here right now feels so wrong, it hurts.

I don’t know where I’m gonna go or what I’m gonna do after this. Right now, all I can think about is you. Because I found the weirdest thing down here. The site just across the way… is called “Turbo Torrent.” And I don’t know why or how, but… their sign has a picture of your face. I guess some people outside the arcade really do still remember you. I hope you know that, wherever you are. You gotta know that you're remembered. I wonder if they remember what you did. Some of them must have told their friends what happened to Roadblasters, right? I'll probably never know why, but that’s definitely your face… and that’s what inspired me to write to you again. Even in this grimey, dank place, I feel weirdly close to you in the light of that sign. Like I was supposed to come here.

Maybe that’s why I’m having trouble leaving.

Wherever I end up going, I’ll be thinking of you. It’s gonna be an adventure for me, but those were always better with you. I think we could have done well in the internet. Never a dull moment, hardly any walls to hold us back. I’m sure you would have found a way to be the center of attention, even in a place that goes on forever. I miss the way you’d bring a room to life when you entered it. I miss everything about you, even the annoying parts.

I guess what I’m saying is, I’m leaving everything I knew about the world behind, but in whatever way I can, I’m taking you with me. I promised I’d never forget you, and I meant it. So if any part of you really is still with me, get ready for a whole new life we never expected. I'm going to wander this world until I finally burn out. I don't know what's out there, but I know deep in my heart that nothing will ever be the same again. No more Easter Egg. No more yanks from a joystick. No more shouting, “We Can Make It!” And that’s all well and good, because we didn’t, in the end.

But I will.

I miss you, sugar. I’ll love you ‘til my last conscious thought.

Pinky promise.

-- Cherry Bomb

#wreck it ralph #ralph breaks the internet #wreck it ralph 2 #make it mavis #turbo #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #keeps naming fics after radical face songs #i swear i'll write something happy soon #murder au just wouldnt leave my head

[bangtanbabeloveyourself]

Oh What A Wedding

Pairing: Female reader x BTS

Tags: Casual, Slice of Life, Home, Family, Wedding, Bridesmaid, Groomsmen, Future Fluff, Future Smut, Series, Chapter

Chapter: 1|2|

Word count: 2.5k

Writer’s Note: This is my first attempt at a multi chapter piece. I’ve also never written about all seven members. This chapter contains no smut but there will be smut in the upcoming chapters! If you like it, don’t forget to reblog so others have the chance to read it as well!

Summary: You’re a new novelist and your little sister is getting married. Because of work, you could only show up two weeks before the wedding. While preparing for the wedding, the groomsmen catch your attention, but not as much as you catch theirs. They make a bet as to who can win your heart first and you may have just found your next novel.

You walked over to the baggage claim area with an exasperated sigh. Flying was such a pain in the ass but it would be worth it. You were going to see your little sister, Katherine, get married. You had never been more happy for her. She was such a sweet girl and so was her fiance. They had been together since they were kids. Shane was one of the neighbor boys that you both had grown up around. They were inseparable up until graduation. Shane had gotten into a modeling gig that required him to move out of state for a while. That was the time your sister had spent in college. There was no doubt in her mind that they would end up together, so she planned her career around his and got a degree in fashion design.

She had always been the more fashionable of you two. Usually the older sister was supposed to be the trend setter. She loved to rub it in your face too. But you paid no mind to it. There was nothing wrong with your oversized sweatshirts and cartoon leggings. In any case, your choice in clothing hardly mattered when your career was solely based on staying indoors.

Once Shane had gotten a good footing in his modeling agency, he came back to your hometown and proposed to Kat. With the money he had earned and the money that parents had been saving for years, the wedding was to be done in under a year from the proposal. That didn’t give you a lot of time to get your life together first, but there was no chance you were going to miss your little sister’s wedding.

You had moved away too shortly after college. You were a writer by trade and passion and let’s be honest, trying to get your foot in the writing career in a small town just wasn’t very likely and you refused to use your parents’ business connections to give you a head start. So you had moved closer to the Big Apple to help you with that. Luckily it paid off too. You started off in a small editing position for an up and coming blog that later blossomed into a social media conglomerate.

You had moved up in position over the few years you had been there and so you had more liberties to your projects. You had managed to get ahead in a lot of your work and with your boss’s blessing, you’ve been taking your free time to try and write the romance novel that you had dreamed about since you were a young girl. The only problem was that you had no clue where to begin. The want to write was there, but you had no inspiration. Your dating life was massively lacking since you left college which left you with little to work with. You had secretly hoped that coming to your sister’s wedding and witnessing their ceremony would help give you that little spark of romance that you needed to get your writing started.  

You saw your bag coming around the conveyer belt and quickly went over to retrieve it. You huffed as you lifted the bag off the belt and onto the floor with a thud. You weren’t one to bring more than one bag, but that also meant that the bag that you did bring weighed twice as much as it should. You pulled out the handle and started to wheel it over to the exit.

You were expecting your parents to come and pick you up near the exit. But as you reached closer, you didn’t see them anywhere. You reached into your jacket to grab your phone but groaned when the screen didn’t light up. Great, you thought. As you looked around for an outlet you noticed a tall man with blonde hair holding a sign that had your name on it. You eyed him cautiously wondering who he could be. The man didn’t look familiar at all.

You tried to wiggle back towards a crowd of people but it was too late. He had spotted you and gave you a giant grin. He waved his hand and jogged over to you. You took a step back when he had moved a little too close into your space for your liking. He bowed at you before meeting your gaze and smiling again.

“Hi Y/N. You probably don’t know me, but I’m Jin. I’m a friend of Shane’s. I came to give you a ride back to your parent’s house.”

You eyed him over again before crossing your arms against your chest. “And I’m supposed to believe a stranger holding a sign with my name on it, that I should go with him?”

He ran a hand through his blonde locks before giving you a sheepish grin. “I suppose it does sound kind of creepy. But I promise that I’m only here as a favor to your family. Your parents had an issue with catering and had to go take care of it and your sister had another fitting for her dress. So Shane asked me if I’d mind giving you a ride since I was already here to pick up his best man. I’m here to pick up the second most important people at the wedding, so that makes me the third most important otherwise the maid of honor and the best man wouldn’t even show up.” he chuckled, trying to make a joke.

You gave him a soft, uneasy smile before looking around. You didn’t see another person with him. “Okay then, Jin, where’s the so called best man then? If I could meet him, I might be more inclined to believe your story.” It all reality, you did believe him, but you thought there wasn’t any harm in giving him a hard time.

His face fell slightly and you saw the worry in his eyes. “Oh, he’s actually in the car already, I’m sorry. I know this sounds sketchy but I can’ go get h-”

You raised your hand to cut him off and giggled. “It’s okay Jin. I’m just kidding. We can go.” He nodded and ushered you to go first, trying to hide the blush from his face, no doubt.

Once outside, he lead you over to the parking garage. “Yeah, this isn’t sketchy,” you say as you roll your eyes. You saw Jin tense up again and you chuckled. “I’m still just kidding Jinnie, no reason to get your panties in a bunch.”

He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I’m sorry. I just know this looks shady. But my car is just over there, you can even see Namjoon already.” He started waving towards the car, but the man inside had his nose buried in a notebook, frantically making notes from the look of it.

When you got to the car, Jin used his key fob to pop the trunk and reached over to grab your suitcase from you. You let him take it without another fuss and he motioned for you to get in. You nodded and opened the rear passenger door directly behind the driver’s seat. The man he referred to as Namjoon, jumped at your sudden intrusion but when he saw Jin, he relaxed a bit. The man before you was just as gorgeous as Jin had been. Geez, models. Doesn’t Shane have any normal looking friends? you thought, bitterly.  He was wearing a bandana to keep his purple hair out of his eyes.

“Oh, you must be the maid of honor. I’m Namjoon, best man.” He gave you a soft wink and you smirked. “Best man, huh? Never seen a best man with purple hair,” you teased. “ I’m Y/N, Kat’s older sister.” He raised an eyebrow. “Quick to quib, I love it.” He gave you a big dimpled smile that honestly made your heart melt a little. He was already gorgeous but those dimples almost did you in.

You shrugged slightly before turning to put your seatbelt on. “Well, in my line of business, it’s better to be quick witted. If you aren’t funny, no one cares anymore.”

When you turned to face him again, you noticed he had shifted a little more to face you. “And what line of business would that be?” he asked as Jin finally shut the trunk of his car. You followed him with your eyes as he got into the car.

“Oh, I’m a writer of sorts. I’m the lead editor at Wave,” you said as Jin settled into the driver’s seat.

“Wave? Isn’t that one of those funny vlog sites? That’s all over social media? I think I just watched one of their videos about cooking while at your desk.” Jin stated as he looked at you from the rearview mirror.

You shrugged. “That’s what we’ve been reduced to, but yeah. That’d be the one. Unfortunately we have to cater to the public or we would be out of business. It’s not all bad though. I did learn how to cook a full chicken without having to leave my office.”

You heard Jin chuckle before he started the car. “Fair enough. So then, shall we get going? You parents were nice enough to let all of us stay at your house.”

That didn’t surprise you. With hopes of you staying in town, your parents had renovated the old pool house and turned it into every teenager’s dream house. All of the excitement of living on your own without the responsibility. They had finished it your senior year but your heart was set on New York. Your sister did stay there though and commuted to school every day from there, so it didn’t completely go to waste. Now it would be the party house before the wedding.

“Yeah, that was really nice of them too. Especially considering there were so many groomsmen. Why aren’t there any more bridesmaids?” Namjoon asked, turning from his notebook to look towards you again.

“What do you mean? There should have been seven including myself.” You said as you grabbed your charger out of your purse and plugged it into one of the USB ports in the back of Jin’s car.

Namjoon shook his head before turning back towards the front. “Not according to Shane. Apparently it’s just you and two of your cousins.”

Your jaw dropped. Your sister hadn’t mentioned her friends dropping out of the wedding at all. What had happened? You thumbed over your now charging phone before turning to look out of the window. “I honestly don’t know. My sister hasn’t really talked to me much about the wedding. She wanted to wait until I got back home.”

Jin cleared his throat before giving a sheepish grin. “I can probably explain that one.” You and Namjoon both turned your attention to him. “Well, since we were in between gigs, your parents had let most of the groomsmen stay here the past two weeks with them. I think things got a little out of control after a party we had. Feelings got hurt and I think the girls just didn’t want to stick around so they dropped out of the wedding.”

Namjoon groaned and gave Jin a punch on his arm. “What the hell, man? Can’t you guys keep it in your pants? How is that supposed to make the agency look? Did none of you think of that?”

Jin’s face was slowly turning red as he looked back towards you through the rearview mirror. Your eyes met for a fraction of a second before he looked back towards the road. “It’s not our fault. You know what alcohol does to all of them. The girls were the ones who started it anyway. Who am I to deny them love from Mr. Worldwide Handsome?”

You couldn’t hold back the snicker from his comment. He looked back to you again with an eyebrow raised. “What? You don’t agree with me?”

You blushed instantly before clearing your throat. “Uh, I mean. You’re all models or something right? You’ve gotta be attractive to someone.”

Namjoon let out a snort before shaking his head. “Yeah, way to hurt his ego. He’ll be sulking about that all day.”

He was right. Jin immediately got a pout on his face and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning. Namjoon patted his arm. “It’ll be okay. You’ll always be sexy to me,” the man teased. Jin rolled his eyes but stayed silent, instead deciding to turn the radio on, ending the conversations for the rest of the trip.

Within forty minutes, you had arrived to your parent’s home. Namjoon was the first to exit the car, heading straight back to the trunk that he had popped in the glove box before exiting. Jin got out as you collected your phone and charger and went over to your door. He opened it for you and you gave him a soft smile. You couldn't remember the last time someone had opened your door for you like this, because, let's be honest, New York City isn't known for its manners.

You walked back to the trunk to retrieve your bag. Namjoon had already gotten it out for you and moved it towards you. “Oh, thanks.”

“No problem. I just thought it would make this. Little quicker. I'm exhausted and wanted Jin to show me where I'm staying. I was going to ask you, but obviously you're just getting here too.” Namjoon looked to Jin and motioned for him to take the lead, and he did.

Jin lead you both around to the side of the house where a little dirt path lead you to the back yard. You grew up in this house, yet your mother's garden down this path always took your breath away. Despite everything your mother did, she always made time to garden. She had roses, tulips, daisies, hibiscus, lilacs and lilies too on top of dozens of others you couldn’t even name.

The path takes everyone to a large wooden fence. Jin opens the gate before holding it open for the both of you. As soon as you're through the gate, the smell of chlorine and a campfire fill your nose and the fragrant flowers disappear. You used to hate smelling that every day but now, it just brings back a flood of memories of your childhood with your sister.

You're brought out of your reminiscing by the shouts of whom you assumed to be the other groomsmen. They had all been messing around the pool when you guys had entered. Once they saw their friends, they all started chaotically exiting the pool. It honestly surprised you that none of them got hurt in the process.

You stood behind Namjoon and Jin as they were greeted by their friends. You pushed down the handle of your suitcase before pulling out the strap to make your way to your room. You were stopped by a hand to your shoulder. You turned and Jin gave you a soft smile before ushering you towards the group of young men.

You sighed as you set your bag down and turned to face them all. You quickly looked over them. You had to fight the urge to drop your jaw as you took them in. You had to hand it to Shane. He picked a beautiful career to get into.

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #kim namjoon #jin #kim seokjin #suga #yoongi #min yoongi #rm #jhope #j-hope #hoseok #hobi #jung hoseok #jimin #park jimin #chimchim #v #taehyung #kim taehyung #taetae #jungkook #jk #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #bangtan seonyeondan #series #chapter 1 #ohwhatawedding

[feelingfredly]

The Fox Guards the Wolf

Part Nine

Fighting Impulses

“So…” Ichigo stared around the room. “This is the Sanctum Sanctorum.”

Kisuke raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, and Ichigo frowned.

“Somehow I imagined more bubbling beakers and giant static electricity generators in Frankenstein’s lab.”

Still no response.

“It looks like an altar to Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, with a dose of Miyamoto Shigaru thrown in for good measure.”

That did it.

“The beakers and Bunsen burners are down the hall.  The generator is in the basement.  And it is much more Miyamoto than Gates or Jobs, if you don’t mind.”

Ichigo smiled. “Gotcha.”

Kisuke sighed and shook his head a little.  “Yes. I admit it. You got me, and you didn’t even have to tell me my baby was ugly.”

The redhead grinned and wandered over to an empty desk in the corner.  “Is this for me?”

He nodded.  “I promised you time to write, didn’t I?  I need you to be close in case I need to handle something in a hurry, and this way you still have your own space.”

That earned him another smile. “Next you’ll tell me I can keep a toothbrush next to your sink.”

Kisuke couldn’t resist. “My sink is just down this hall, and you can keep anything there you want, Ichigo-san.” He watched as the red head snapped up to look at him and fought not to give himself away with a smile of his own. “And my bed is big enough for two if you get tired and don’t feel like trekking back up to your apartment.”

An interesting flush crept up Ichigo’s neck, and Kisuke wondered if he reacted that way to everyone.  He hoped not.

“Why do people keep trying to kidnap you?”  Ichigo punctuated the statement by dropping his backpack on his desk and pulling out his computer. Kisuke assumed that meant playtime was over.

“My fascinating personality?” He dropped into his chair and pulled two keyboard trays towards him, hitting a careful progression of keys to unlock the computers, while Ichigo plugged in his laptop.  

A few beeps and whirs later both men had their respective workstations up and running.

“Seriously,” Ichigo spun his chair to face him. “If I’m going to keep running into these guys I should at least know that much.  Is it leverage?  Money? Access?”

Kisuke pushed back from his work for a moment and considered how much to explain.

“I suppose,” he said, “in its simplest terms, they want to know what I know.”

Ichigo frowned harder than usual.  “Do you mean they want to know how much you know, or they want to have the same knowledge you have?”

Kisuke admired how quickly Ichigo recognized the potential layers in his explanation. Always the wordsmith.

“Mostly the latter.” He pulled his fan out and tapped his chin a few times.  “Although, the former is something they wouldn’t mind knowing either.”

“So basically, they want to force you to make whatever it is you’re making for them, and they want to know how much about them you and the others here,” he waved his hands to indicate the office building, “know about their plots and plans to take over the world.”

Kisuke nodded. “That’s about the size of it, yes.”

“Huh.”  Ichigo looked disappointed.  “Here I was hoping for something exotic, long-ranging and complex, but it’s really just business as usual, isn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon?” Kisuke stared across the office at his companion.  It was the first time he’d heard anyone associated with the Onmitsukido, even as tangentially as Kurosaki, declare that one of their conflicts was basically… boring.

“I mean, you’re working on something that’s new and different, but that’s not the plot is it? The plot is someone wants something that doesn’t belong to them, and they’ll do what they can to get it.” Ichigo shrugged, unimpressed.  “Am I wrong?”

“Not really.” Kisuke gave a half-hearted smile. “I think the only things that change are the names of the people involved, and how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the back to try to get an advantage over the other side.”  

He thought of Okura Kagetaka sadly. “I’m not even sure some of them know which side is which anymore.”

“Is this thing you’re working on something that would work for anyone?” Ichigo asked.

Kisuke considered the combat AI and how it could be applied.  “Yes.  And before you ask, I considered that when I started designing it.”  He looked at his computer screens, taking in the bits of code sitting there, and tried to imagine never having started the project. Never having mapped out how it would work. Never having mastered the intricacies of Yoruichi’s AI function. It made him terribly sad.  “I just couldn’t not create it. Do you understand?”

Ichigo’s brown eyes looked at him full of sympathy.  “I do. Probably more than most.”  He laughed a little under his breath.  “Do you have any idea how many times my friends and family have asked me what the hell I’m doing taking a year off to write a novel?  I know it isn’t the same.  My stories are never going to earn me a place on the cover of SuperSpy magazine, but when they’re in my brain I just can’t ignore them.  They’re too real for me to just let them fade away.”

Kisuke nodded. “You do understand, then.”  He looked back down and started typing, trying to get his suddenly jumbled thoughts in order.

Ichigo watched him quietly for a moment and then turned back to his own work.

***

Ichigo stretched and his back cracked ominously.  He really needed to work on his posture while he was typing.

“Why is it so hard to dispose of a body?”

Kisuke didn’t look up from his work. “Human body?”

Ichigo snorted. “Yes. Human body.  What other body would you worry about disposing of?”

Kisuke made a noncommittal sound. “Well, if you’d taken out an animal but were trying to disguise your presence you’d need to worry about disposal.  A dead gorilla would be a dead giveaway to anyone tracking you through the jungle.  Gorillas don’t have many natural predators, and none that would leave the same marks as most weapons.”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t be worrying about disposing of the body, I’d just want to temporarily hide it, probably in place because I wouldn’t be able to drag something that big very far from where I killed it.”

“True.” Another noncommittal sound. “So, how much time do you have?”

Ichigo huffed. “Time for what?”

“To dispose of the body, of course,” Kisuke huffed.

“Uh,” Ichigo rifled through his notes, “Ten hours?  Well, ten hours to remove it from the first site and get that cleaned up. After that I don’t care how long it takes to dispose of it, as long as it doesn’t lead anyone back to me.”

Kisuke hmm’d softly. “You want to move it as soon as possible if you can.  Leaving it in place gives you too many variables.  Plus, it makes clean up much worse.  How much blood?”

Ichigo stared at the blond. Were they really having this conversation?  “None. Hopefully.”

“How’d you kill him? Drugs?  Poison?” Kisuke still hadn’t looked up from his computer.

“Scopolamine. Accidental overdose.”

“Classic.  Too bad it was an accident.”

Ichigo tried to figure out what he meant by that but couldn’t follow the train of thought.

“Why is it too bad?”

“If you meant to kill him, you could’ve used the scopolamine’s effects to get him to go wherever you eventually intended to dispose of the body under his own steam. Then you wouldn’t have the transport problem.  You’d have to make sure no one saw you with him, but that’s not a significant obstacle most of the time.”

“It really works like that?  The whole Devil’s Breath, thing?” Ichigo was fascinated.  

“Yes.  The drug cartels in Colombia have been using it for decades.  Scarily effective.” Kisuke stopped typing and finally looked up.  “But it’s better if you don’t write it that way.  You might make some people…  nervous.”

Ichigo weighed the idea and nodded slowly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

Kisuke touched the sensor behind his ear and Yoruichi’s voice greeted him. Hello Kisuke.

“Update data files on Kurosaki Ichigo.”

A few seconds passed, and the voice purred at him again. Data files updated.

“Did you say something, Urahara-san?” Ichigo pulled his earbud out and turned to look at him.

“Just talking to myself, Kurosaki-san,” he said.  It was true. There wasn’t anything in this Yoruichi that wasn’t him.  Just an enhanced him.

“I think I’m going to head upstairs for dinner.” Ichigo looked back over his shoulder.  “Do you have plans?”

Kisuke looked at the clock in surprise.  He hadn’t realized it was so late already.

“I’m so sorry, Kurosaki-san.  I completely lost track of the time.”

Ichigo just smiled. “So did I. I can’t believe how much progress I made today. You want to come up for curry?  My sister Yuzu sent enough for an army.”

Kisuke stared at the redhead.  No one had ever been happy with his losing track of time before.

“Curry sounds delicious.”

***

“Did Tsukabishi-san say there was a gym in the basement?” Ichigo finished drying the last bowl and put it back in the cabinet. “I really need to get a workout in tomorrow if possible.”

Kisuke nodded. “There are two.  One has the basic treadmills, weights, and so on, and the other is for sparring.  I’m sure you could find a partner if you’re interested. It isn’t like a dojo, though.  Down there pretty much anything goes.  It’s more about efficacy than style.”

If he thought that was going to be a deterrent, he was in for a surprise.  The redhead actually looked more interested.

“It would be a good to stretch myself against someone who isn’t just going to use traditional judo. I haven’t had a real fight since high school.”  He laughed, but Kisuke could sense the excitement bubbling just under the surface.

Every time he thought he had a handle on Kurosaki something happened to prove him wrong.

“Don’t tell me your father encouraged fighting.”

The younger man grinned and picked up his cup of tea. “Encouraged is a strong word.  Let’s just say that my dad understood that it was likely to happen, and believed that if I was going to fight, I’d better be good enough at it to both walk away the winner, and to leave no permanent damage behind me.”

That sounded like the Kurosaki Isshin Kisuke remembered.

“No permanent damage, hmm?” he asked, pouring tea for himself as well.

“He always said it was because he didn’t want me to turn into a thug and it was important to think about the long-term consequences of my actions. But I know the truth.”

“And what was that?”

Ichigo took a drink and met his eyes over the top of the cup. “He didn’t want to have to do the paperwork afterwards, of course.”

Kisuke didn’t choke on his tea, but it was a close call.

***

The exercise rooms were surprisingly crowded.  Or not surprisingly crowded, if you thought about the jobs most of these people had. This was an associated branch of the Onmitsukido after all.

Ichigo looked at the people sparring and was impressed by the sheer variety.  There were young and old, male and female. He heard Japanese, English, Korean, and an African language he couldn’t identify, but they all had one thing in common. They were all kicking ass and taking names.

“You must be Kurosaki Ichigo-san.” A pleasantly non-descript young woman in her twenties appeared at his elbow.  “Welcome to the team!”  She gave a brief bow that was respectful enough to make him feel like he was actually welcome, but somehow conveyed the message that he still had some question marks beside his name. “I’m Tanaka Midori.”

Ichigo returned the bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Tanaka Midori-san.”  He indicated the people scattered across the mats.  “Is it always this crowded?”

The young woman looked around and nodded.  “Most mornings, yes.  Everyone likes to get their workout in early in the day so they don’t end up missing it if their schedule changes unexpectedly.”

That made sense. Maybe he’d do better to put off his workout until later in the day.

“Kurosaki-san.”

Ichigo turned, only slightly surprised to see Kisuke standing behind him.  “Good morning, Urahara-san.  What brings you out of your lair this morning?”

Tanaka stiffened beside him and he supposed he should be more respectful to Kisuke around his coworkers.

Were they his coworkers?  He’d never seen anyone around except Tessai.  He’d have to ask.

“I realized after our conversation last night how long it had been since I’d gotten in a good sparring session.”

Tanaka stared at him slack-jawed and Ichigo wondered if that indicated that Urahara was lying about sparring, or that just seeing him outside his lab was disconcerting enough to throw her for a loop.

Considering the physical control he’d seen the blond exert, he was betting it was the former. But, if he wanted to pretend he lacked skills, who was Ichigo to protest?

He wandered over to the corner where they had an area for stretches and sat down next to the wall, legs spread as widely as possible, and slowly scooted forward until he felt the insides of his thighs begin to burn. He sat like that for ten seconds and then rotated into a Chinese split, and held that, breathing deeply as he felt his muscles first protest and then relax into the familiar movement.

Urahara had taken the opportunity to prop one foot on a waist-high beam and lean into a hamstring stretch that looked completely effortless.

They stretched like that for a few more minutes in silence, until Ichigo figured it was time to roll the dice.

“Shall we shake the dust off, Urahara-san?” He pretended not to notice the audience they were gathering.

“Nothing would suit me better, Kurosaki-san.”

***

The sparring areas were simply mats spread out through the basement with walkways between, and Ichigo led them to the nearest unoccupied set and bowed before stepping on them

“Rules?”

Kisuke shrugged. “Why don’t you decide this time. It is too early for me to be making decisions.”

Ichigo cocked his head to one side and he half expected an argument, but the redhead surprised him again.

“Let’s try to keep it civil, then.  No knee shots or eye-gouging, and I’d prefer not to be singing soprano afterwards. Good for you?”

He couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Good enough, Kurosaki-san.” He faced the younger man and settled into a comfortable stance.  This was going to be interesting.

Ichigo slowly moved counter-clockwise a step and then another, and Kisuke played along, but unlike many of his sparring partners, he didn’t dance around.  No, the redhead was much more cautious, watching his feet and hands, trying to see when the tendons tightened to move.

So, Kisuke did the same.

They measured each other that way, judging reach and angles, until Ichigo sighed.

“This is boring.”

In a split second the younger man had closed the space between them, lashing out with his left leg, first kicking low and then high without withdrawing to rebalance.  Kisuke took the first kick to the calf and then blocked the second, moving quickly to the side before landing a closed fist strike on the inside of Ichigo’s thigh just above the knee.

There was an indrawn breath behind him, and he wondered what their audience would think of what came next.

As expected, the thigh strike threw Ichigo off balance, but he quickly regrouped, and sent a flurry of punches and strikes—arm, chest, arm, turn and strike to the back—and Kisuke flowed into his defense.  Blocking he could tell that Ichigo was still feeling him out, measuring how much force to use to strike without over-committing, and he leaned back, using his superior reach, and swung his right foot up, just missing the redhead’s chin.

A scowl appeared for a moment on Ichigo’s face, and Kisuke knew his intentional undershot had been recognized and unappreciated.

It might not have been Kisuke’s best idea.

He watched as Ichigo changed stances, dropping his traditional karate positioning into something looser and dirtier.

Kisuke threw a short punch, snapping Ichigo’s head back from the quick jolt, but as he pulled back, he noticed a strange short slide of Ichigo’s foot.  Somehow the smaller man channeled the energy behind his punch, translating it into a modified backbend, and he watched in surprise as Ichigo dropped both hands to the floor behind him and kicked him first in the hip, then the chest, and then finally in the chin, before flipping over and away from him after landing the shot that Kisuke had chosen not to.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually landed a hit like that on him.

He grinned.

Two quick shifts later and he had Ichigo’s elbow stretched to its natural limit, but before he could lock it into place to force him to the mat, his foot was lifted just enough for Ichigo to spin him in a half-circle, drop to one knee, force the overextension of his own arm but in a way that pulled Kisuke forward and over him, so he could then ram upward and headbutt him in the solar plexus.

The two separated, breathing harder now.

Kisuke noticed that the redhead was gently shaking the arm he’d just sacrificed, and he quirked an eyebrow.  Ichigo shook his head in silent refusal, and they faced off again.

This time Ichigo went straight for a judo throw, lunging forward and grabbing the front of Kisuke’s gi.  He slid his right leg between Kisuke’s thighs, and pulled him forward with all his strength, sliding him up to where he was practically sitting against Ichigo’s hip.  As the shorter man prepared to pull him over, Kisuke forced himself further forward into the hold, and then wrapped his arm around the redhead’s throat.  Ichigo realized that if he threw Kisuke at that point, he’d basically strangle himself in the process, so he performed a quick release, and shoved instead, sending Kisuke backwards with a stumble.

Their audience had grown, and he could hear mutterings from the crowd.

It was his turn to attack.  Low punch, elbow block, hit to the ear, and then grab the redhead by the gi and use his own bodyweight to throw him to the floor. But instead of faceplanting, Ichigo hit the mat on his hands and made a perfect leg sweep, catching Kisuke’s leg just enough to keep him from following through with a floor hold and pin.

By this point Tanaka Midori and the others had seen enough.  No one in the gym would wonder why Ichigo had been brought onto the team. Now it was time to really push things.

Ichigo’s face was flushed and his eyes were wide and bright.  There was a sheen of perspiration on his skin, and Kisuke could practically feel the weight of his focus. It made his skin hot, and his heart race, and it had nothing to do with the exertion of sparring.

It would always be like this between them, he thought.  

He crossed the space between them and jabbed into the brachial nerve cluster at Ichigo’s right shoulder, eliciting the first true gasp of pain from his opponent.  He followed that up with a side strike to his neck, and then flipped the smaller man around, pulling both arms up into a full nelson.

He pressed on the back of Ichigo’s neck, forcing his head down, cutting off his air, and reducing the blood-flow to his head, and he started a slow ten count.  

Ichigo groaned, and Kisuke could feel it vibrate under his hands.  He’d reached six by the time Ichigo tried to counter, dropping his weight a little, but he wasn’t concerned.  Once the gray started setting in, it would be over.

Ichigo raised his hands to his own head.  It was probably pounding from the restricted circulation, but he hadn’t tapped out yet, and Kisuke was a patient man.  But then, suddenly, the redhead struck himself in the forehead, and the shock of the impact both snapped his head back allowing a rush of blood to travel back in, and it loosened Kisuke’s grip just long enough, that when Ichigo dropped his weight entirely, stomping backwards on the arch of Kisuke’s foot, and rotating his hip to pull Kisuke completely around his body, he was caught completely by surprise. It was such a novel sensation that he simply released his hold, and let himself be pinned.

Ichigo looked down at him, their breath mingling their faces were so close together, and Kisuke could feel the redhead’s heart pounding where their chests were pressed into the floor.

A murmur was spreading and Kisuke could hear whispers of he pinned Getaboshi from the crowd.  Ichigo must have heard it too.  He pushed off and rolled to his feet in an easy movement, offering Kisuke a hand as he stood.

“Thanks for taking it easy on me, Urahara-san.” He gave a polite little bow and turned away from the crowd standing around. “We’d better get cleaned up, though. Tsukabishi-san wanted me to remind you that you had an appointment at eleven, and I don’t think either of us would come away from that fight in once piece if I let you miss it.”

Kisuke watched as the spectators dispersed, Ichigo’s comments reducing what would normally have been gossip mill fodder for a month into just another sparring session.  He had controlled an entire room of trained agents with three sentences.

Kisuke’s heart sped up noticeably enough that he didn’t need Yoruichi in his ear informing him of it. How was it that Ichigo managed to keep him so off balance, so fascinated?  

They pushed the button for the elevator and waited, listening to the sounds of sparring starting up again behind them. Kisuke could feel the heat pouring off the man next to him, could smell the faint tang of perspiration.

The door opened. They stepped in.  The door closed.

“Why’d you let me do it?” He wasn’t sure what Ichigo meant.

“Do what?”

“Why’d you let me break loose so easily?” Ichigo’s voice was a little rough and he hoped he hadn’t injured his windpipe with the throat punch.

Kisuke remembered the vicious heel to the instep, and the elbow to the ribs, and wondered what Ichigo would think of as hard.

“We were sparring,” he said as the door opened on his floor. “Anyway, my ego is healthy enough that I don’t have to win.” He gave a little half-smile.  “At least not all the time.”

Ichigo stepped further back into the elevator, his eyes fastened on Kisuke’s, that fascinating flush on his cheeks again.

“Okay,” he said, “But to be fair, I’ll let you pin me next time.”

The doors closed.

[glitterysummerkitty]

Sebastian Stan

Gif Source- http://www.pinterest.com/pin/295830269246450900

Taken From- Giphy.com

Sebastian Stan One- Shot

Pairing- Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warning(s)- None

“Where to Miss?”

      You whack your best friend’s arm as he asks you in the best imitation of a cabbie. Y/F/N glares at you mockingly before his lips break out in a wide grin. Shifting the gear he pulls the car on to the highway teeming with evening traffic.

“Thanks thou for coming to pick me up on such a short notice.”, you say.

“No problem at all. By the way, not that it’s any of my business, why didn’t you call your hot shot boyfriend?”, he asks.

“I did call him but for some reason Stan has his phone turned off or something. It kept going straight to voice mail.”, you reply, glancing at the passing cars. Technically, you were still within the airport limit and the traffic here seems endless with arrivals and departures alike.

“Hhmm... Must be not expecting your call at this hour.”, Y/F/N says absently as he switches lane.

      You pull your mobile phone out the pant pocket and see that it was half past seven. Y/F/N had a point. According to Stan you should be filming at this moment but filming had ended much sooner than planned and now you were on your way home. In all the chaos you had forgotten to inform your boyfriend that you were heading home. So there was no need to worry if Stan’s phone was turned off. Yet still there was a nagging feeling in your mind and you ask your friend to drive faster.

         Sebastian had been warned. By you. But he had never really been good at heeding warnings.

      It had been a lazy day, spent on making late breakfast (because he woke up late), then some chores and then a late lunch. After lunch he had tried to face time with Y/N but couldn’t reach, which surprised him a bit but didn’t dwell on it much. He had looked around a bit in search of doing something when he finally ended up before his laptop in an attempt to surf the internet on very random subjects.

      He was going through IMDb’s list of the top performances by an actor in the year 2017 and saw that Y/N led the list with her performance in ‘Blanc Skies’. He knew from the rave reviews from both the audience and critics alike (which is an impossible feat, in his opinion), the Golden Globe nomination, the Academy nomination, etc, that his girlfriend had given an outstanding performance as ‘Faye’, and while all of this made him extremely proud of his girlfriend, he had never been able to enjoy the movie himself.

      Reason? Y/N had barred him from watching the movie ever. When he had asked once she had simply said that she knew that her character’s demise would not be taken well by him. Of course Sebastian being the masochistic male had scoffed at her ridiculousness but Y/N was stubborn and had said with a full degree of finality in her voice that Sebastian should not watch the movie.

      Now as he saw the, obviously old, list of the site he felt the supressed curiosity worm it’s way on to the surface. Both bored out of his mind and also wanting to see his girlfriend perform, he decides to watch the movie after all. Anyways, Y/N wasn’t here to stop him. Also he was an actor too and as an actor he knew this wasn’t real. It was fictional story in which his girlfriend happens to play the role of the fictional character Faye and the fictional character dies, not his girlfriend. Y/N was just overreacting over nothing. He was man, he could handle a little fiction.

      With that delightful thought, Sebastian had walked to the living room, with his chest puffed up. In the sitting room, on the centre shelf of the TV unit was a box where the copies of each films, series that Y/N and Sebastian had ever been in. From the very box he pulled out the DVD case and gently plucked the CD.

      A glimmer of guilt had entered his mind but he quickly pushed it away, thinking that Y/N was only worried that he wouldn’t take her character’s death too well. He knew for a fact that that moment didn’t arrive till the very end, ergo he would just turn it off when he would get to that part.

      Little did he know that he would get so sucked into the movie that even when all the signs and warnings hinted at the impending he didn’t find it in himself to turn it off. All the worse, he had not thought how much Y/N would be right, and how at the moment he felt as if someone had punched him hard in the chest, sucking every ounce of breath from his lungs.

      The movie had come to an end and the last of the titles had just rolled off the screen but Sebastian sat on the couch, with his head between his hands, willing the gore image to leave his mind. Y/N had said that her character would die but she had never mentioned how gruesome it was. Nevertheless he should have figured it. Nudity, violence, gore- that was the rage these days.

         You enter the penthouse apartment you two shared and for a moment, you get the feeling that Stan wasn’t home. Leaving your bags by the door you stroll into the apartment, stopping short in the sitting room, when you see Stan sitting on the couch, looking extremely distressed. The sight of his dishevelled hair, the slouched shoulders and the network of bulging veins in his hands makes your heart leap into your throat with fear.

      You approach him very carefully and come to kneel before him. He doesn’t move at all leading you to think that either he hasn’t noticed you or he’s ignoring you. The latter although seems impossible to you. Gently you wrap your hands around his arms and whisper his name but he doesn’t answer.

“What happened?”, you ask but Stan doesn’t move a finger.

“Stan... Please talk to me. What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”, you say, your voice still firm and gentle but filled with anxiety and trepidation.

      Slowly he lifts his head and when you look into his grief stricken face you feel a wave of nausea threaten you. Suddenly Stan falls down to his knees and pulls you hard against his chest and holds you tight against him. You find it hard to breathe but you don’t complain as you can sense that he needs this. There was no sound but the wetness that began to drip and soak through your flimsy blouse on the back told you that Stan was crying.

      His tears only served to cause you panic because Stan never cried. Never! You coax him once more to speak up but Stan just holds you tighter.

    You hear the seconds hand tick around in the wall clock as Stan continued to crush you. When the dripping of the tears stopped you began counting every tick. On the hundred and twenty fifth tick Stan loosed his grip a little and mumbled something incoherent.

“Huh?”, you say.

“I said I am sorry.”, he mumbled again in a jagged voice.

“Why?”, you ask, your heart beating frantically in your chest.

“I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have watched it.”

      For a moment you consider his very confusing answer but you soon suspicion about what he could be talking about.

“Please tell me you didn’t watch Blanc Skies?”, you mumble feeling your anger rise slowly.

“I did. I just didn’t expect--”

“Oh shut it!”, you let go of your anger finally and pull away from him. Standing up you glare down at him.

“I told you not to watch it. Look at you. For the past fifteen minutes...”, you glance at the same wall clock to make certain that is how much time had passed before turning to glare at him, “Fifteen minutes you have had me in a fix wondering what could have possibly happened to turn you into this wreck!”

“I am sorry...”, still kneeling he reaches out to hold your hand but you jerk it away before he could touch you.

“I knew you won’t be able to stomach it. But no! You had to go ahead and watch it!”, you go on. Stan could see that you were really pissed and felt ashamed. He felt pathetic at being such a wreck over a fiction but Y/N had done a really great job. He couldn’t help but be absorbed into the character. He let his head hang low, ashamed and furious over himself that he got carried away.

      Despite all the anger, there was something about the way Stan looked right now that tugged at your heart. Yes you were upset with him but you were also insanely in love with the man and, as twisted as it sounds, seeing him devastated over the death of your character made a teeny tiny part of you happy?

“I am right here.”, you sigh and kneel down. “And even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me for a very long time Mr. So save your tears.”

      You place a soft kiss against his lips that tasted of salt at the moment. Sebastian leans forward and kisses you back, finding some solace in the physical contact. You pull away and sit on the floor getting comfortable between his legs, placing her back against his chest while he wrapped his arms around you.

“How come you are home early?”, he asks breaking the comfortable silence you two had been enjoying.

“We finished early.”, you reply. “By the way. I tried calling you from the airport. It kept going to the voicemail. My car broke and it’s still in the airport and since I couldn’t reach you, I called up Y/F/N.”

      You feel Stan go a little stiff at the mention of your friend’s name and smirk. For some reason Stan never got along with him.

“Hhmm. I forgot to plug in my phone to charge today. Probably got switched off.”, his voice was still rough.

      He knew you were still mad at him, which was appropriate, but for the moment all he wants is to hold you which you gladly allow.

#sebastian stan #sebastian #stan #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #oneshot #one shot #celebrities #celebs #hot celerities #hot celebs #celebrity #celeb one shots #celeb au #celebrity au #au celebrities #hot actors #requests #bucky barnes #bucky #barnes

[ellaintrigue]

Damn, what is this dude on? He looks high as fuck. I bet once you sobered him up and gave him an enema to get rid of that opiate constipation he probably has he would look good wearing a butt plug while making me sandwiches. I could go for a good hoagie, is anyone else wild about shredded lettuce and those hard crisp cold tomatoes they have at sammie joints?

See, I don't just go around reporting people out of spite, I play by the rules. OkCupid is the most liberal woke uptight dating site I have ever come across. I've been reported and banned for up to 2 months before I email them like "what gives?" and I got a person who said "that's automatic when you're reported." But with sexual harassment, on all the sites now, POF, Badoo, Bumble, you get straight up deleted for your smart mouth. So homeboy wanted to get a rise out of me but he'll be deleted instead. Unnnhhhhhhhh I'm having a Karengasm right now. Lol I love this fucking shit.

Sometimes I do listen to men when I don't want to though. Yesterday my last ex pissed me off. And I shouldn't have gone there, but I messaged him calling him an ass, because he is. We were already done dating but still talking when we had a blow up a month ago. And he gave me the silent treatment, which is my biggest peeve. It's been done to me my entire life, when I was 14 the 30 year old guys that groomed me would do it and make me hysterical in tears. Ignore me for days until I'm a "good girl."

I had warned this guy about that, my policy/preference is either talk things out or BE DONE WITH ME. Say "I can't handle your shit anymore, Ella, I'm done" and that will be the end of it. Don't leave a festering sore. But he chose to ignore me and I moved on, you can't make a donkey do what you want. Well, despite no contact, he started liking my posts in a meme group again. I ignored it at first, then I just felt like he was doing it to get under my skin. I mentioned this to a local guy I talk to and he said, "he's doing it to keep you guessing, and to make sure he's on your mind." Normally I just scratch up guys for saying shit like that but I was like, "huh, thank you for your input, Kev." He doesn't just agree with me on stuff and has a city boy attitude but I like hearing a perspective that's valid. So I chewed my ex up last night and got left on read again. I told him to block me and he didn't. Men like head games just as much as bitchy women do, I swear.

I was talking to this one-legged former Nazi once and telling him about my life. I made sure he had never actually targeted people of color, turns out he was just a gang asset. He was their chemist. "No, never messed with black people or anyone, the Nazi thing was more a guise so we could sell drugs." I ran him and all I found were some drug charges and a meth lab bust. Other records showed he had been a career man for years after that, nothing fancy. Of course I don't just go seeking people like that but a good looking man is a good looking man I don't care about missing legs, eyes, or non-violent criminal pasts. Well, mostly non-violent everyone know I have 2 long term exes back to back that had both stabbed people. I digress, just don't stab me, boo boos.

I told Nazi Tat about how it was hard to find dudes that didn't want just sex or a place to stay. And he said, "maybe they sense weakness" and I was like, "well I don't like to think that." And he just gave me this poker faced stare then smiled a little, the cigarette in his hand idly drifting smoke. Kind of made me irritated and uncomfortable. BUT, I listened. Not submitting to him, but keeping it in mind. It is always good to have an outsider's perspective especially when you feel things in life don't go well and you aren't sure why.

Since talking to that guy I decided I was probably going to eliminate ever having a live-in partner again. It just gives people something to take advantage of. Looking back, I don't think my live-in ex moved in with me with the intent to use me but years later it ended up that way. You just can't trust anyone whether it be them using the silent treatment to hurt you or simply being a one-legged meth lab running Nazi.

#Screenshot #Dating

[pkmnjesus]

P J’s PokéAni Trivia Tuesday #13 (Global Tour edition)

This is part 3 of 5 PTTs digging into some really cool PokéAni facts from all over the world! This week’s global research was MASSIVE! I really wanted to cover as much EU as I can, since I know a lot of people in this fandom coming from Europe, but tried to make my post as minimal as I can! Due to a lot of info I’ve read, I will only mention 1 or 2 facts for each country (except U.K.). Good thing I had 2 weeks to prepare for this, otherwise this thing would have been more stressful to put together. Shoutout to all my European PokéAni peeps reading this! Let’s see if you may or may not know the trivia behind these countries 👀

Pokémon anime in EUROPE

In the UNITED KINGDOM DID YOU KNOW? The Pokémon anime famously aired on ITV, a public service network station that broadcasts in Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

SM:TV Live was a live Saturday morning entertainment show that replace the Who's That Pokémon? segment with small sketches that featured the famous English comedic duo, Ant & Dec as hosts, having their own "PokéFight" and even performed their own Pokérap.

ITV has skipped episodes or canceled airings mid-series. These are planned as the TV guides published over a week before date of transmission reflect this. It commonly happens other animated shows in the line-up such as ReBoot, Cardcaptors, Digimon and Yu-Gi-Oh!.

Pokémon has been cancelled prematurely TWICE on different TV channels! Once during the Orange Islands arc, and another just after Pokémon: Advanced started. Neither series has been seen on ITV since.

CN (Cartoon Network) TOO was the channel location for the world premiere of Pokémon Chronicles. The U.K. got their English dubbed The Legend of Thunder! specials first than the U.S. by a year early.

In other EU COUNTRIES DID YOU KNOW?

In the Netherlands (Ik wil ze allemaal!), Fox Kids announced that it would stop broadcasting Pokémon on March 2001. Around 32,000 complaining children called to Fox Kids in outrage because of this, but it turned out to be an early April Fool’s joke. On April 1st, the channel announced that the 3rd season of the anime would begin airing the same day. GOT’EEM!!!

In Iceland (Þarf að fanga þá!), only the first 54 episodes of the 1st season aired. The first five movies were also dubbed. They pulled the plug on the Icelandic dub due to the lack of popularity it received in the country.

In Finland (Omakseni saan!), it was the first Nordic country to air the Pokémon anime, with Denmark, Norway and Sweden followed shortly in the spring of 2000. While it may have been the first, many episodes of the first couple of seasons in the Finnish dub were not shown (or skipped?) for unknown reasons. In fact, Advanced Challenge was the first ever season to be shown completely in the country, and moving forward after that, every season have been broadcasted entirety as well.

In Sweden (Måste fånga fler!), the Battle Frontier season broadcasted exclusively online via TV4+ and TV4′s site, as it got skipped and did not air after Advanced Battle, going directly to the Diamond & Pearl series.

In the Czech Republic (Všechny chytit máš!), Ash Ketchum’s voice actor was Radek Škvor, who was 10 years old at the time when the series first reached the country. He was same age as his assigned character! Eventually he got replaced by his older brother, Jan Škvor some time during the XY series. Ash may be 10 forever, but not the VAs.

In Belgium, the Pokémon anime is distributed in two dubbed languages: Flanders (Belgian Dutch) and Wallonia (Belgian French).

In France (Attrapez-les tous!), they had an unprecedented 2-hour special for the first four episodes of the XY series on May 1st 2015 along with a bonus special airing Mega Evolution Special I afterwards. They did ANOTHER 2-hour special on April 13th 2016 with the premier of the first four episodes of the XY&Z season. The French sure do love the Kalos region...I mean isn’t Kalos based on the country of France?

In Greece (Τα θέλω τώρα εδώ! Ta thélo̱ tóra edó̱!), the anime first aired on Star Channel until it moved to Disney XD when they acquired the rights during Diamond & Pearl. Despite this, irregular broadcasts of specials and movies still show on Star Channel, especially during holiday seasons, but the regular series airs exclusively on Disney XD.

In Italy (Acchiappali tutti!), Brock's first Italian VA was Nicola Bartolini Carrassi. Who is Nicola you ask? He is a journalist, anchor, scriptwriter, anime expert, and the man who brought the Pokémon franchise to Italy in the first place. He has been chosen by Warner Bros, 4Kids, Pokémon INC., Nintendo Games Freak and Buena Vista to become the Italian dubbed voice of Brock and he has been praised for his work, even if it was only for 2 seasons. He left the show after the Orange Islands arc.

In Poland (Czy już wszystkie masz?), when the tenth season was dubbed by a new studio, Sun Studio Polska, they decided to ignore the previous cast of the series and choose all new actors for every character. There were a lot of mixed reactions among fans to the sudden recast, but in February 2009 when DP: Battle Dimension started, most of the original cast of the Polish dub were restored.

In Portugal (Vou apanhá-los todos!), the show aired in an irregular pattern, shifting from 6am to 10am, but it always in the same programing block, named LOL@SIC. On a side note, Ash Ketchum had no less than ten different Portuguese VAs over the years. Y I K E S

In Spain (¡Hazte con todos!), Adolfo Moreno has provided the voice of Ash Ketchum in the entire anime. This is quite rare as a lot of foreign dubs, constantly change VAs for their cast, and even the English dub had to recast Ash’s voice after Battle Frontier. One exception is the 3rd Pokémon movie and the Mewtwo Returns special since it had a different VA cast. On another interesting note, there were 2 different dubs for the Pokémon anime in Spain: an Iberian Spanish dub, and a Catalan dub.

In Norway (Fanger alle nå!), the setting of the Pokémon movie Giratina and the Sky Warrior is based on Norway's nature. Three places were used as inspiration; Sognefjorden, Jostedalsbreen, and Bergen. The scene with the Glacier threatening to destroy the town was based on a little town of Geiranger, which is threatened by a collapsing mountainside in real life! Speaking of other movie trivia, the single Don't Say You Love Me, promoting the official soundtrack worldwide for Pokémon the First Movie, was performed by the Norwegian group M2M.

In Denmark (Jeg ska' fange dem!), the anime took a 3-season break from Danish TV after the episode Charizard Chiils. The series would not return until Address Unown! (with a new cast of voice actors) leaving no explanation as to why the episodes in between were never aired.

In Ireland, there is no Irish dub in the country since over 90% of people there speaks English as their primary language, and what they got was the English dub from the United States. For some reason though, two episodes from the Hoenn saga didn’t air. Specifically speaking the episodes: The Bicker the Better and Who, What, When, Where, Wynaut?.

In Slovakia, only the first four seasons of the anime have been dubbed into Slovak, nothing else after. All the English theme songs were left in their original form, untranslated, however the Pokémon movies had both their opening and ending themes Slovak dubbed.

In Albania (Duhet ti kap!), Pokémon movies were dubbed in Albanian by "Jess" Discographic. This company is recognized for providing "illegal" dubbings of other shows they have done.

In Lithuania, the Pokémon anime debuted the Lithuanian dub at Christmas Eve of 2005 on BTV. The first seven Pokémon movies, on the other hand, aired at different channels, though the dates of their original airings cannot be traced and have gone lost.

In Germany (Komm und schnapp sie dir!), one of Ash’s German VAs is named Veronika Neugebauer. She shares the same name (sort of) with Verinoca Taylor who is famous for being the original English dub voice actress for Ash. Unfortunately, Neugebauer died during the production of dubbing Diamond & Pearl, and they had to bring back the original German VA for Ash, Caroline Combrinck, who previously quit the show to study in New York City. Ash is currently voiced by, Felix Mayer, Sun & Moon. *Also I want to briefly mention one of the largest German Pokéfan sites: Filb.de. because I have been to that site a lot looking at screen-caps, and even using some of them for my posts (specifically PokéAni Highlights/Rewind). Basically the German Serebii.net!

In Croatia (Fes-te'ls tots teus!), they have dubbed a few Pokémon movies in their language, however the theme music remained in English.

In Romania (Să îi prind pe toți!), the Romanian dub has aired the first 5 seasons in the country, but everything else after that was skipped EXCEPT Diamond & Pearl (Sinnoh League Victors was SKIPPED though), and Sun & Moon which just recently debuted last month (as of this post).

In Serbia (Треба да скупиш све Treba da skupiš sve!), the only seasons to be fully dubbed in Serbian dubbed is the original series and Black & White. Advanced Challenge, and some of Pokémon Chronicles were dubbed as well. In the very few Pokémon movies they have dubbed, the opening and ending themes remained in English.

In Bulgaria (Да ги уловим! Da gi ulovim!), the anime was originally broadcasted on Nova Television, but eventually made the jump to Disney Channel Bulgaria. Some other countries air the series on Disney as well, so I guess America wasn’t the first country to make the jump, huh?

In Russia (Всех их соберём! Vsekh ikh soberyom!), after the first 104 episodes of the original series were shown, the Pokémon anime was not broadcasted in Russia for SEVEN years. Many Russian fans wrote to TV channels asking them to bring back the anime. Countless rumors of why the ORT channel pulled the anime off air included: newspapers and the yellow press pressuring the station to cancel the show for showing “offensive” content, while some say that Pokémon was “brainwashing children with subliminal stimuli”. ORT was worried about its reputation, so they stopped airing Pokémon, and that they couldn’t make an agreement on the price of licensing the anime with the Japanese creators. On September 20th 2008, the Pokémon anime made its miraculous return to Russian television via the TNT channel, where they premiered the first episode of the Diamond & Pearl series.

Source: Bulbapedia

← (The Middle East) Previous | Next (Oceania) →

#PokeAni #Pokemon anime #PokéAni Trivia Tuesday #AniPoke #Pokemon the series #international #global #Europe #The United Kingdom #EU countries #Pokemon #Pokemon movie #Pokemon dub #trivia #probably the GREATEST and LONGEST PTT EVER! #it was a very fun research!