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nomizombie · 5 months

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[You could be mine...] 🎸🎤🎶

fanboy!König x GN!rockstar!Reader || [Part 1] [Part 2]

[SFW/Wholesome] ; no usage of y/n, gender neutral pronouns, insane rocking out!!!, author has never been a rockstar or to a concert 😔, not proofread, written at 12 at night

[A/N] ; i was just really obsessed with the idea of König absolutely flooring it when he gets to meet his favourite rockstar!!! And then rockstar reader has to sign his forehead or smth

ALSO this is probably one of my first *longer* little drabbles so congratulations to msyelf for writing more than 3 sentences and not taking a nap!! 🎉

You stepped out onto the stage to a roar of fans. Hundreds were in the crowd screaming your name. Many scrambling to get to the edge of the stage and see you in full.

You greet the crowd enthusiastically, a gentle breeze flowing through the locks of your hair and tickling the ends of your shirt. With one strum of your guitar, the crowd goes wild, chanting and waving lights.

Not long after, your band begins playing. Drums, electric guitars, keyboard, and your smooth vocals, all come together to form song after song. Before long, the concert is almost over.

Sweat drips down your forehead as you pant, tired after jumping from end to end of the stage to interact with fans. You scan the crowd, at the front of the pack, barely hidden by spectators is a massive man, donning your band’s shirt and hat. You quickly snap your focus back to the blaring music behind you, more cheers erupting as you play the final song of the night.

You finally drop your mic. Singing a farewell to the horde of people as you leave the stage. Your shirt is soaked, hair damp and cheeks red. You high five your bandmates before disappearing into your area to change. The memory of the man still filling your memory as you wear a fresh shirt and pants, smooth your hair and dry your dewy skin.

Rushing out one final time, you find the long line of tables where your bandmates await you.

The obligatory autographing session after every concert. Tiresome, exhausting, but also something you look forward to.

Mindlessly scribbling your initials on albums and shirts, and thanking fans, you greet the next fan. But, when you look up, instead of seeing his face, your band’s logo crows your vision.

Your eyes trail further upwards before they land on a pair of crystal blue, anxiety-filled pupils staring back at you.

“Oh- Hello!” You croak out. It’s the man from earlier, and he’s so much more massive than you thought.

“Wow, big guy huh?” The words leave your mouth before you realise.

He stares at you silently, nodding frantically after a few seconds of awkwardness.

He’s not much of a talker, huh.

Desperate to ease the tension between you two, you flash your signature charming grin before speaking,

“Name?” You smile at him.

Once again, a few seconds of silence before another frenzied nod.

“König.” He says in a thick accent.

“Sorry? Repeat that would ya?” You turn your head to the side, leaning your ear into him.

His eyes widen before he comes a little closer and places his hand on the sides of his mouth. It was only then that you noticed how large his digits were. Each finger must’ve been at least one of yours and a half. Yet despite their size, he was trembling. Vibrating even.

He yells (or more accurately, speaks at a normal level) into your ear,

“König.”

You blink at him.

“Coonisch..?” You repeat at him confused. How do you even go about spelling that?

“It’s German.” He clarifies meekly.

Well that explains it.

He shakily places an album onto the cloth-covered table, then another, then another, then another, then one from your band’s first show and- holy shit, this dude must be a big fan. Physically and music-wise.

You reach your marker out to begin signing the stack before you freeze as he reaches into his bag and pulls out… guess what, another album! Then some faded polaroids that you faintly remember taking on stage before throwing them out into the crowd… then a small band facts book… exclusive posters, and some CDs still in the wrapping! When he finally stops digging around his bag, you finally notice the wide array of vibrant pins and badges stuck to his leather satchel. Unique pins from the early days of your music and badges that were never made again after the first drop. This man is beyond a fan.

He chuckles nervously as he noticed your wide eyes and slight gaping mouth. You were literally in the band but still you weren’t even sure you had some of the merch he did.

“All right… Coonisch… How do I… spell… that?”

“K-Ö-with the two dots above it-N-I-G.”

Oh.

“You want that on… everything..?” You gesture towards the stack of albums, posters, and pictures.

“Yes.” He responds. You can almost see his wide grin through the balaclava he wore.

You sighed, clicking your pen and getting to work. By the time you finished the last poster, he was practically vibrating.

“I take it you’re a big fan?”

He nods wildly again. Eagerly stuffing the pile of merch back into his bag. Once he’s all packed up, he doesn’t leave just yet. His eyes contemplate before he opens his mouth again.

“Can- Do you- Hand- Is it okay if you… shake my hand?!” The last part comes out a bit too loud. His eyes widen again, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink as he lowers his head.

“Of course. Least I can do for a fan like you.” You beam at him. His eyes immediately return to their squinted eye-smile state as he holds out his jittery hand.

You slowly wrap your fingers around his (giant) ones and give him a firm, tight, shake.

“That good?”

He nods madly, eyes joyfully squinting. He looks like he just went to heaven.

A string of giggles leaves your throat. You can’t hold it back. He looks confused for a moment before chuckling himself, realising how much of a fanboy he must look like right now.

“Well, hope to see you around again, König.”

He thanks you profusely, bowing and nodding his head. He almost left before he froze, turned and quickly dropped something onto your table. You swear you could see him floating with stars in his eyes as he walked off.

You stare at the tiny red present box for a second before pocketing it and signing the next bunch of albums and posters. Before long, it was an hour and a half to midnight and you were tucked up in the back of your band’s van.

Squirming to your side, your brain replayed the interaction between you and König. Every timid word he spoke, his boyish mannerisms, even the look in his eyes as you shook his hand.

It was starting to get difficult not to think about him.

You felt your pocket for your phone before realising that the gift he left you was still unopened inside of it.

Quickly, you pulled it out, gently unwrapping the carefully lined paper and undoing the small ribbon.

Inside, the most precious necklace laid. Engraved with your initials and band’s logo. It was a locket in the shape of a sparrow, your favourite bird. You clutched the necklace, grinning from ear-to-ear as your cheeks burned.

Then, you noticed something scrawled at the bottom of the box.

A phone number.

You smiled so hard your face hurt.

dividers by @mmadeinheavenn

Tysm for reading!!! Please lmk if you’d like me to continue this silly idea of mine- i think im shaking at the thought of writing this aas a full fic witj multiple parts… 😭🙏

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jasminelyoko57 · 1 year

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Detective Yuu - Head-to-Head Match with the Mafia (The Invitation)

[The Invitation from the Queen]

Yuu receives an invitation to a Halloween cruise; the Halloween cruise is famous for hiring guests to star in a horror film. The invitation is from the Fairest One of All; however is addressed to Yuu Crowley and Yuu Kan’no, meaning he knows their true identity.

---

The sound of typing could be heard coming from the computer keyboard in a dark room. A mysterious man was typing an invitation on his computer screen accompanied by a wine he drank afterwards.

The man unhesitatingly wrote:

'To my dearest Yuu Crowley'.

After typing the letter for a while, the man picked up an envelope next to him and wrote:

'Yuu Kan’no'

Then, he handwrote the recipient's address. When he was done, he stamped the opening of the envelope. The man grinned wickedly.

---

Elsewhere under the starry sky, MI6 agent Jamil Viper was reaching into his trouser pocket for the car key, a black Chevrolet Corvette Z06.

Jamil immediately got into the car, then lit his lighter, shining at a photo that showed Yuu and Epel turning their heads as if someone was photographing them from behind.

After that, he switched off the lighter and started the engine to explore the town, then he grinned mysteriously.

--- THE NEXT DAY

It was late afternoon in London. Epel had a fever today, thus he kept coughing behind the mask. Meanwhile, Yuu was reading a letter, or rather, an invitation to the end-of-season Halloween party.

"End-of-season Halloween party?" muttered Yuu as they read the letter.

(Image by Pixiv Id 13115143)

"Are you going to that event, puppy?" asked Crewel while brewing his coffee.

Yuu didn't reply, but they still read the invitation carefully, which said:

"To my dearest Yuu Crowley,

I invite you to a horrible feast to be held on the night of the next full moon on a blood-soaked ship.

Of course, whether you are willing to come or not, there will still be one poor lamb cursing its misfortune of being chosen as a victim. The sinners will surely rejoice in the horror of it all."

"Are you really going to that monster party?" asked Epel who was on the bed sitting up, he coughed under his mask.

Yuu nodded. "Moreover, what bothered me the most is that the name of the sender of this letter is only the phrase 'Die Schönste von allen'. I could assume that this phrase is in German." Yuu pronounced the sender's name in broken German.

"Do you know who the sender is?" asked Crewel.

"About that... maybe Epel knows them." Yuu turned to Epel.

Epel replied, "Hmmm... I'm not familiar with that sentence myself, let alone phrases that come from fairy tales or foreign languages." Epel coughed again.

“Eh? I thought you’re fluent in German.”

“Just because I have German ancestry doesn’t mean I can speak the language, idiot,” Epel squinted at Yuu.

Crewel assumed a thoughtful pose. "If I'm not mistaken, I read Snow White tale in German. The princess was nicknamed 'Die Schönste von allen'. If translated into English, it would be 'The Fairest One of All'."

Hearing Crewel's words, Epel immediately lowered his head as fear hit him like a tsunami.

"You've heard that name, right? That means he's one of their members?" Yuu asked Epel, who was still trembling in fear.

"Then, that invitation letter..." Crewel turned to Yuu with worry.

"Yes, this letter came from one of their members named 'Fairest One of All'. I don't know if this is a trap or not, but this is an opportunity that can't be missed..." Yuu replied with a smile.

---

"No..." Suddenly Yuu and Crewel turned to Epel. "This must be a trap! You're going to be done for! You can't go there!" shouted Epel frantically, then he coughed again.

Yuu sighed, "Maybe."

"In that case, why did you...!"

Before Epel could finish his sentence, Yuu put him to sleep with the anesthetic needle from their ballpoint pen. After that, they covered Epel's body with a blanket. They looked at Epel who was sleeping softly.

"I'm sorry, Epel. If we stay like this, we won't make any progress..." Yuu murmured.

Unbeknownst to Yuu, the sender, Vil Schoenheit, had heard everything through the headphones connecting to the bug as he smiled wickedly in the dark.

---

"You're going to leave him alone?" asked Crewel incredulously.

"Crewel-sensei, there's a strange part in this letter. On the envelope and invitation it says 'Yuu Kan'no', but inside the letter... take a look." Yuu handed the letter to Crewel.

"’To my dearest Yuu Crowley’?! Puppy, don’t tell me they have...!" Crewel's face became panicked.

Yuu smiled resignedly. "Yes, my identity has been discovered. They already know that I am Yuu Kan'no who has been shrunk by the poison SHIRAYUKIHIME_1812. I think they also aware that Epel is the mafioso who betrayed their ranks."

Crewel asked, "But this is strange, if you and puppy’s identities were already known, why didn't they just finish you sooner?"

"I don't know... I think I can guess the reason," Yuu replied.

---

Note:

In public, Yuu’s surname has been changed to ‘Crowley’, so ‘Yuu Crowley’.

The longest post I’ve ever written in this AU, istg.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #detective conan au #detective yuu #twst yuu #divus crewel #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #twst crewel #twst epel #twst vil #jamil viper #twst jamil #pomefiore #scarabia #ramshackle

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨3

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) sleep paralysis, stress.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m so happy people are liking this story. Thanks so much to everyone reading and sorry if I’m a bit inactive lately, I’ve been exhausted and yesterday didn’t end, I swear.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

On Monday, you yawned over your keyboard as your fingers moved on instinct alone. Your eyes ran along the text but the words were just letters to you. You had a lot to think about, a lot to do.

You decided you would skip lunch and get through your work day an hour early so you could head to Clark’s right away. He was hard to deny when he asked if you could make it back so soon. You told him you worked everyday from home and you had hours beside that at the gallery three times a week at least. He accepted it with a nod but his silence was telling so you caved and said you could make it but not until the evening.

You texted Marcus as you waited for your Uber. He had a few hours to go still and you left him everything he needed to make supper with instructions; the veggies were cut, the meat thawed, and the pans already arranged on the stove. You had faith he could manage on his own.

The mansion was just as intimidating as the first time you visited. You walked up the drive and to the front steps. It was human nature to be envious of the sprawling yards and lavish estate and yet, it didn’t feel as if someone could truly live here. It would be like staying in a hotel as you were always overly aware of your every move, afraid to break something or make a mess.

You hammered the large knocker when your soft tapping brought no answer. You heard someone on the other side and wiggled your foot nervously. The door opened and square-faced woman greeted you in another language. You couldn’t tell if it was Swedish, German, or some other dialect. You were never a skilled linguist.

“Um, hi, I’m…”

“Ah, you are the lady painter,” she said, “I remember. I am Nina, Mr. Kent’s housekeeper.”

She turned and beckoned you to follow her. You closed the tall door and trailed her across the spacious foyer and behind the stairs into the kitchen. She turned through another room and led you out through the glass doors that opened onto the pool.

“Miss, would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” you said as the water moved and your eyes were drawn to the figure moving beneath the surface.

“Miss,” Nina nodded and left you.

You stood, awkward and listless, and glanced around at the loungers and the umbrella over the round table. You weren’t entirely sure what to do. Had he forgotten about you?

“Hey,” your gaze was drawn back to the pool. Clark waded to the edge, his broad shoulders and chiseled chest visible as he made his way to the shallow end, “sorry. Lost track of time.”

He grabbed the metal railing and climbed up the stairs. The water slaked off his tight trunks and down his thick thighs. He appeared even larger with less clothes. You looked away before your thoughts lingered too long.

“It’s fine, I should have texted I was on my way,” you said, “I can go wait for you--”

“No worries,” he took his towel and rubbed dry his dark hair. The scruff along his chin was thicker than before, almost a full blown beard, “you’re not in a hurry, are you?”

“No, not really, can’t really rush… painting,” you shrugged, “I just… I didn’t mean to catch you off-guard.”

“Pfft, I’m ready for anything,” he grinned, “but I should also listen to the artist. I’ll go get changed and you can get settled in the studio.” He directed you ahead of him as he approached the sliding doors, “you just finished work? You should take a few minutes to unwind.”

“Uh, yeah, but it’s just, um, typing, not exactly hard labour,” you said as he followed you inside.

“Work is work,” he said, “I will never fault anyone who works hard, regardless of what they do.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you stifled a yawn behind your hand.

He let out a breath as you came out into the foyer, “I’m sorry, you could’ve… you’re tired. We could have rescheduled. I’m sorry if I came across… pushy yesterday. I don’t mean to take advantage of you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured him, “I’m fine.”

“Alright,” he said doubtfully, “but you let me know if you need a break.”

“Will do,” you murmured as you neared the stairs.

🎨

You weren’t even close to done just the background of the portrait. Clark really didn’t even need to be there as you shadowed the folds of the curtains around his figure and the marble bust. Your arm hurt from reaching across and up the gigantic canvas and your eyes burned from squinting at your work.

You backed off the ladder carefully with your paintbrush and palette balanced in one hand. The paint was drying and you needed to mix more. You set down your armful and wiped your hands on the rag. He was watching you, he was always watching you. Well, no, he was just looking in your direction; it was all for the portrait.

You hit the button on the side of your phone and gasped. It was midnight. You had several messages from Marcus and you blanched as you unlocked the cell and quickly texted back. You rubbed your eye as you hit send and turned to Clark.

“I didn’t realise it was so late,” you said, “I gotta go.”

“What time is it?” he asked and looked at his watch, “oh.”

He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and stretched out his arms as he neared. You took your brush and rinsed it in the tinted water in the jar.

“I’ll just clean up as I wait for an Uber,” you said as you let the brush rest in the jar and lifted your phone again.

“I’ll drive you,” he said as he grabbed a rag, “it’s a long way. I’ll hire a driver for you from here on out. It’ll be easier and cheaper.”

“You don’t have to--”

You flinched as he wiped your cheek with the rag. He smiled and showed you the paint on the white cloth.

“I wouldn’t offer it if it was too much trouble,” he tossed the rag down, “and I did have something to talk to you about. The drive will be more than enough to get it sorted.”

“Oh, okay,” you eked nervously. Had you done something wrong? Were you not painting fast enough?

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he touched your arm gently.

He left you and you finished scraping off the palette and cleaning your brushes. You dumped the jar in the sink just inside the nearest bathroom and rinsed the porcelain back to white. You left everything arranged neatly on the table and descended to the first floor.

Clark stood by the door in a different jacket, his tie gone and the top button undone. He held the door for you and showed you to the garage. There were at least a half-dozen cars inside and he took you to the same silver one he drove the night of the show. You settled in and groaned as the tension left your shoulders.

He started the car as the doors rose behind him and he backed out smoothly. He turned down the long drive and onto the desolate roads of the wealthy countryside. He kept one hand on the wheel and dropped his other to his thigh casually.

“So, your job, you like it?”

“It’s work,” you said, “I get paid to sit at home and type. Half the time, I’m just waiting for an assignment.”

“I asked if you liked it,” he said more pointedly.

“Oh, well, not… really?” you answered, unsure.

He could be so pleasant and then so blunt. He made you nervous and the more you thought of it, the more you realised you knew almost nothing about this man besides his name. You didn’t know how he made his money or what exactly he did outside of his extravagant mansion.

“If I doubled your fee, would you quit?” he asked without hesitation.

“Quit? This… the painting won’t take forever,” you said, “I can’t really just drop everything--”

“This is an opportunity,” he said, “you could spend your days doing what you love. And who’s to say it’s just one painting? I already have something in mind for the dining room and I have friends asking about you.”

“Friends? Who--”

“One thing at a time,” he said curtly, “I’ll introduce you to them in time. Is it a deal?”

“I… it’s all very sudden, can I think about it?”

He looked at you in the rearview and you caught his eye. For a moment, you were afraid. There was something in his expression that left you breathless. He lifted his hand and stretched his arm between the seats, his fingers gripped the leather just above your shoulder.

“Sure, I’ll give you a couple days,” he said at last.

“I--I’m sorry…” you didn’t know why you were apologizing but it felt appropriate, “I just, I’m tired.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he assured and the epithet hung in the air.

“I have to go to the gallery tomorrow, I’ll get back to you on Wednesday,” you said as you rubbed your chin nervously. Your lips was quivering. He was smiling but you felt his impatience in the small space of the car, “if I… if I say yes, I have to talk to my boss and that might get messy.”

“No problem,” his voice softened, “you take some time and figure it out.” His thumb rubbed the leather seat and he pulled his arm away to grasp the steering wheel, “why don’t you close your eyes. We got some time left.”

You peeked over at him and nodded.

“Okay,” you murmured and hugged your bag against you as you tried to relax against the leather. You turned your head and looked out the window up at the starry sky. You closed your eyes as the fatigue settled over you but you could only fake dozing as your nerves stormed inside of you.

He was right, it was a great opportunity, but you just couldn’t believe it would last. Was it your own doubt getting to you? Or should you be weary of this fairytale buyer? It was late and you couldn’t think. All those worries could wait until tomorrow.

🎨

You crept into the dark apartment. It was after one and you foresaw a long day ahead of you. You’d get maybe four hours in before it all started again. You put your purse down and went into the bedroom, undressing in the shadows and crawling into bed next to Marcus as the colours of the tv moved around him. The playlist he was casting kept on even as he slept.

He grunted as you laid on your back and he turned to graze your arm with his fingertips.

“You’re home,” he grumbled and kissed your cheek, “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I… it’s so far out there and it’s a lot of work. The canvas is like nine feet-- I’m sorry, I’ll let you sleep.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” his voice was gristly as he propped himself up on his elbow, “you’re gonna finish the job right?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can,” Marcus insisted, “I mean, at that price, you can do anything.”

“It’s not about the money, Marcus,” you huffed, “I don’t know if it’s worth all this. Going back and forth…” you ran your hands over your face, “he wants me to quit my job and just paint for him.”

“You should,” Marcus said blithely, “why not? He’s paying you well enough.”

“And what about when I’m done,” you whined.

“You’ll find more work. Vanessa even offered to take on more of your work in her shows, so what’s the problem? Isn’t this what you want?”

“Y-yeah, it is but… I don’t know, it just seems too good to be true.”

“You do this and we might even have enough for a down payment,” he said, “something had to give after all these years. Why can’t it be this?”

You looked at him and tried to smile, “you’re only saying that because he has a pool.”

“Maybe,” he kidded, “but I also want it for you. You spend all your free time painting anyhow so why not get paid for it?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, “yeah, I just don’t know why I feel so… I don’t know. It just all seems off.”

“Sleep on it, you’ll feel better,” he leaned over and kissed your lips that time, “love you.”

“Love you,” you echoed as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv.

You closed your eyes as the darkness shrouded you and despite your anxiety, you fell into a deep sleep. You didn’t even roll onto your side before you sank into your REM but found yourself caught in limbo. The abstract and intense sensation of paralysis overtook your body and your eyelids flicked open.

It was an awful feeling you knew too well. You knew you were dreaming, you knew it was all in your mind, but your body was filled with sand and your subconscious conjured visions of doom. The tall man stood by the door as he always did and just stared. He got closer, just a little at a time, and you fought to move just a finger and free yourself from the trance.

You felt like you were drowning as your body remained heavy and unmoving. He was getting closer and closer. As he did, his figure changed and his shoulders got wider as his features came clear in the slat of the streetlight that leaked between the curtains. It was Clark staring down at you, his blue eyes sinister and sparkling.

He reached for you and you woke with a start as your name rose from his lips. You inhaled sharply and looked over at Marcus as he snored. It was only the two of you. You reached for your phone, it was just after three. You turned onto your side but your heart still raced. It always happened when you were stressed, the dreams felt so real that you never really came back down after.

You stared at the wall and curled up under the blanket. You didn’t expect to get much sleep anyway, not with the question on your mind. Should you quit and live your dream or should you kill all hope before life did it for you?

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman #series #portrait of a dangerous man #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #mob au #mob!au #dc #dcu

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thelaundrybitch · 2 years

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Little Blue Hearts Update- Chapter 18

Happy Friday, Turtle Doves 🥰

I hope every one has had a great week so far!

This chapter is a bit... much? I promise it's all going somewhere, so don't crucify me 😭😂😘

Next Chapter updates on Tuesday!

18+ content - for mature audiences only!

Reblogs only, please!

Little Blue Hearts cover art by the lovely @leosgirl82

Overboard

~Donatello~

*Sounds of quick typing on a keyboard*

Full name: Evelyn Elizabeth Benissimo

Birthday: June 15, 1983

Gemini... Interesting.

Birthplace: Boston, Massachusetts

Father: Lewis Benissimo - deceased

Mother: Eleanore Elizabeth (Blighe) Benissimo

Siblings: Gregory Scott Benissimo

Jayce Nathaniel Benissimo

Andrew Lewis Benissimo

Pets: None

Ethnicity: Italian, Irish, English, German, Scottish

Hair color: Strawberry Blonde

Eye color: Blue/green

Current Address: 918 Murray Drive Apartment B, Foxboro, Massachusetts

Height: 5'6"

Waist size: 12/14

Cup size:

"Hey, Donnie! How's the research going?" Calls Ashley as she comes into my lab.

I quickly close out what I'm working on and spin to greet her as she rounds the corner to my office.

"Oh hey Ash, I was just finishing up for the night before patrol," I say. "I started gathering info and making notes of the basics. You know, full name, parents, address. I haven't really delved into anything more yet."

"Awesome! I actually just came to see if you wanted some pizza with the rest of us before patrol?" She asks sweetly, with a smile.

"I would love some, actually. I'm famished," I say dramatically, making the brunette suppress a giggle. "I'll meet you guys in the kitchen in a few minutes; I just want to finish some stuff up before I head out for the night."

"Absolutely! I'll make sure Mike doesn't eat your share," she giggles and turns to leave.

"Thanks, Ashley!" I yell to her as she walks out the lab door.

I bring my notes back up on-screen to finish typing, "Double D."

I bring her social media pictures up to get a good look at her -because my curiosity has become way too overbearing for me to ignore it at this point.

"Oh..."

She's unreasonably attractive.

I'm staring at a close-up portrait of her face, and she has the most exquisite smile I've ever seen in my entire life. It was like I was seeing the light for the first time after being trapped in the dark for years… Everything about her radiates positivity and happiness.

She's like that one ray of sunshine. You know the one - it shines down through the clouds on a rainy, stormy day, making the things it touches more beautiful than they were the moment before.

Her lovely features have me mesmerized as I stare at my computer screen- eyes wide, jaw on the floor somewhere... Her hair is blonde, with fantastic natural red highlights. It's straight, layered, and lands somewhere below where the picture cuts off at her shoulders. Her skin is a pale ivory color, complete with a splash of freckles. Her eyes are... Teal? Wow. And they have a nice almond shape to them, long eyelashes, good eyebrow shape... She clearly takes good care of her teeth, and it looks like she's had braces because they are perfectly straight. Her lips...

I lick my own lips, my mouth becoming suddenly dry.

Jesus, Donnie. It's a picture. You don't even know if she still looks like this.

I click to the next photo in succession and come to a full-body picture.

Gulp

Full figure, curves in all the right places...

Ok.

That's enough of that.

I close out her social media page and switch the monitors to body cam footage views. I double-check to ensure all the monitors are working properly and head to the kitchen.

"Donnie!" Leo greets me as I walk into the kitchen. "I have a plate over her for you," he says, holding up a paper plate.

"Oh, thanks," I say as I grab a seat right next to him.

"How's the research going? Find out anything interesting yet?" He asks quietly.

"Leo!" Ashley exclaims from behind us as she comes into the kitchen from being God knows where.

Leo cringes. "Sorry, I just want to make sure he has enough time to... Work on all his research!"

"Uh-huh," she says, not buying a word of his cover-up story.

"Sorry, I've been sworn to secrecy, man," I say, smirking at Leo, who is now in full pout. "Where are Raph and Mikey," I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Raph is helping Master Splinter move his plants away from the door that cuts through to his room," says Ashley, "and Mike..."

"Was blowin' up the bathroom, my dudes," says Mikey as he shoots us with finger guns and winks as he comes into the room.

"Gross, Mikey. There's a lady present," says Leo, shaking his head in shameful disgust.

"I'm sure she's well aware of Mikey's detrimental bathroom expeditions at this point in their relationship," I say as I continue searching for more information on my blonde-haired beauty, using my Personal Digital Assistant. "But, still, Leo's right. Gross, Mikey."

"Oooo! Neat toy Don! What did Bro-fessor build this time?" Asks Mikey, waaaaay too interested in what I'm doing now.

"It's a Personal Digital Assistant, or PDA for short. It's like a handheld computer that can fit in your pocket," I say, trying to give him just enough information where he stops being so damn nosey.

"Oh! The doctors use those at the hospital!" Ashley chimes in. "Super handy. When they need to search for something quickly, they can just pull it out, type in what they are looking for, and have the information immediately!"

"But don't you already have that type of thing with your watch? You know the weird, holographic screen thingy you bring up in front of you like Ironman does?" Asks Mikey.

"Yea. Why would you need another one?" Asks Leo.

Shit.

Ashley smiles, "Donnie! Are you doing research on the go, about LIV?!" She practically squeals.

*Sighs* "Yes. I know how important this is to you, so I thought I'd run some search programs on the go while we are out and about," I confess, only half of it being true, of course. I can't tell them the real reason. I'll never hear the end of it.

Ashley claps her hands and hug-attacks me in a sudden burst of joy. I smile and pet her back.

Leo smirks and gets up to throw away the plates while Mikey claps me on the back in appreciation.

"Thanks, Donnie. I really appreciate it. And you," she says, standing back up, giving me a heartfelt smile.

"No problem," I say, smiling back at her.

Just then, Raph storms into the kitchen on a warpath.

"THAT'S IT. WE NEED TO STAY HOME TONIGHT!" He booms.

"Woah, what's going on, Raph," Leo says, holding one hand out like it's going to calm him down.

"We need to clean and rearrange Sensei's room. Tonight. He almost tripped over one of his planters! Not only that, but he's got them all piled up in front of the cut-through to my room! How am I supposed to get to him if something happens?!"

Seeing how upset Raph is, Leo nods in agreement. "Alright. Donnie, how was it looking topside through your monitors earlier?" He asks me.

"Pretty quiet and boring, honestly," I tell him, hoping he's going to cancel patrol so that I can continue my research.

"Alright. Raph, you and I will go do some rearranging in Sensei's room; we'll call off patrol for tonight."

"Me and Mike will grab the cleaning stuff so we can give his room a good scrub down, too!" Ashley says, Mikey nodding to confirm his participation. God, she's so good for him.

Leo turns to me, "And you can head back to the lab to continue your research. If you want. Unless you have, you know, something else to do."

"Research it is!" I say, jumping up and heading back to my lab.

Clean police records -not even a parking ticket. Volunteers at local shelters.

Medical records look fairly normal. A few sprained ankles, appendectomy when she was 16, allergic to penicillin. Anxiety-induced asthma? I'll need to look into that some more.

Dental records -yep- up to date on her cleanings, and she just finished her Invisalign treatment last year.

She's on medication for anxiety... Has an IUD…

Alright. Schooling.

Decent grades in grade school. A/B Student in high school...

Double major in a trade school? And top of the class in both categories?!

4.0 in college?!

"Holy shit."

And she just finished college this past year, in her mid-30s.

"AND SHE DOUBLE MAJORED?!"

Easy, Donatello.

Majors... Biology and English? Interesting.

"What the hell is she doing working for a hotel with that kind of intellect? In housekeeping no less," I say to myself.

Focus. Focus.

Bank statements, credit card statements, credit score... She pays everything on time. Budgets well. Likes Victoria's secrets,

*smirks*

and Amazon. "Same Sunshine, same."

Subscriptions to Netflix, Hulu, and Disney plus.

Hobbies... Looks like sewing, painting, drawing -anything crafty, really. Writing. Energy work? That needs more research.

Her Amazon music account shows she plays a lot of Ed Sheeran. Some Kelly Clarkson, Jason Mraz... 80s music galore...

Ok...

Friends...

Ashley. Hmm. Well, that makes things easier. And a bit odd.

Boyfriends and ex-boyfriends...

None currently. Last one was...

"Six years ago?"

And it looks like it lasted less than a year…

Ok... Let's try girlfriends... Nope, nothing there either.

"Evelyn, you just keep getting more and more interesting, my dear," I say to my computer screen.

I pull up the cameras at her current job and see her using a wet vac alongside a bunch of male housekeepers in an attempt to clean up flooding caused by fire sprinklers that were set off. I know this because I see the firefighters working on the piping on the ceiling a little way down the hall.

"Well, she's definitely not afraid to get dirty…." I say with a suggestive smirk.

And since she's busy, I can hack into her phone and plant my secret weapon I use for safety and security monitoring.

"Alright, sweetheart. Time to activate your GPS, so Daddy can make sure you behave."

Little Blue Hearts Master list HERE

@leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83 @chicchanmooshy @roxosupreme @mysticboombox @nittleboo @post-apocalyptic-daydream @xanadu702 @donniesdove @pheradream15 @mistyroselove @ashleighclark98 @jurikyu-blog @drowninghell @sewerninno @tmntspidergirl @raphielover @zombiesnips-blog

*If you aren’t on this list, please let me know if you want me to tag you in my other work or if you prefer me to not tag you 😘

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buckys-other-punk · 3 years

Text

Hold on..THIS IS YOU?!

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Request: where she is a fanfic writer and Sebastian stumbles upon her blog and messaged her as well not letting her know who he was but being an open person she is as to who she was, sending pictures and all, and until one day, decides to meet with her and she is surprised that it was the one she was writing for?

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm (of course) and cussing? i think that’s all

A/N: Hello my lovelies. I am sorry I haven’t been posting as much, but that’s usually how I roll..no jk I legit had no time to write because of my classes this semester, so if this sucks I’m sorry lol. I’m still trying to get back into my writing groove...Also don’t mind my minor mistakes 😅

A/N 2: Anyways I AM BACK AND this is my first request ever!! I’m so excited to write this, I am soo sorry this took forever, but hope I did your request justice and that you like it (and so do others). I feel like I wrote this kinda cheesy, but whatever.

[Y/B/N = your blog name]

As always lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! <3

Just another normal day without stress and a less anxiety filled world...no, today was actually awful. You were swamped with work and your best friend was complaining about her boyfriend. Let’s just say that the stress she was having with him was making you feel happy that you were single. Trying to relax you heated up some coffee (a/n: or tea) and sat on the couch of your small apartment. Grabbing your laptop you wanted to unwind reading. Probably some fanfics on Tumblr usually does the trick.

After reading some pretty good marvel related fics by your mutuals, you got inspired to write some fics yourself. Opening up a new tab you began writing about your favorite actor, Sebastian Stan. That man literally makes your miserable day a little better. Sadly, like all the girls and women who fantasize over him, he doesn’t know you. But, whatever right? You can always use your imagination and conjure up a make believe world where the two of you are happily engaged and have a German Shepard puppy named Stitch. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened another tab on your laptop to pull up your writing playlist, you began typing away on your keyboard writing a new AU where you’re the celebrity of the world you were creating and he was a huge fan of you. After you finished your new fic, you posted that immediately without edits because you were so excited to see people read it.

*across town*

“Have you guys ever read any fanfiction about your characters or yourselves?” the interviewer asked the pair.

“You know I’ve seen a few that were quite impressive. These writers are damn creative.” Anthony replied with a smile. “I will also not lie. I’ve read a few steamy ones and y’all are dirty.” he added with a slight disgusted face shaking his head towards the camera.

“What about you Sebastian? Have you read any?” the interviewer lady asked, looking over to the man.

“Honestly. I haven’t.” Sebastian chuckled looking back at her. “Maybe, if Mackie here finds a good one about me I’ll give it a read.” shrugging towards his friend.

“Oh man, I got a few that are worth reading.” Mackie laughed, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, might as well share them with the world. Let’s give that writer a shout out!” she exclaimed, placing her notecards on her lap.

“Well, like I’ve said I’ve only read a bit, but I do have some blogs that I’ve saved. Maybe next time I’ll name drop a few and give fans some well deserved praise.” Anthony smiled looking at the two.

“Alright, well you better have a huge list for me.” the lady said with a smile looking at Anthony. “Thank you both again for your time. For everyone watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out in March 2021.” She finished off the interview smiling and waving at the camera and the two men followed her actions as well. Once the cameras and mics were turned off the lady came back to the two men.

“Thank you again guys for your time” the lady said to the pair shaking their hands (a/n: ok let's pretend there is no corona in this world so yeah. Everyone is healthy and so is the world!). The two replied with a simple you’re welcome and another thanks in return.

“Wait, have you really read fanfiction before?” Sebastian asked his co-star as the pair walked towards their manager, who was waiting for them outside the room, getting their schedule for the pair’s next interview.

“I mean yeah. I got curious on what people were writing about us and our characters.” Anthony responded with a shrug looking down at his phone.

“Aren’t most of those like fifty shades of grey?” Sebastian asked, staring at his friend as stood near their manager.

“Only if you want them to be..” Mackie stared at his friend with a blank face as they came to an abrupt stop. “Nah man, I’m just playing. Some of them are steamy, others can be sad, like crazy sad and some are like tooth rotting cute. Like I recently read one that was with Captain America and this original character that the author came up with and it made me say ‘aww’ when I finished it. Me. A grown man said ‘aww’ after reading a fanfic. A FANFIC!” he added. Their manager quickly explained their schedule and walked them over to their car to head off to the next location. The two were seated at the back, while their manager sat next to the driver.

“You know what. Send me that story you read.” Sebastian said to Anthony.

“Are you sure Seb?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, why not.” he replied with a shrug. “Might as well read a good story before our next interview.”

“Alright let me send it to you right now. Honestly I think this writer is one of my favorites. I don’t know if it's her writing style or how she portrays our characters, but she’s amazing.” Mackie said with a smile getting the fic he recently read and sending it to his friend.

“So all her stories are good?” Sebastian asked, looking at the notification.

“I just said that she is my favorite writer.” Anthony looked at his friend with a ‘are you serious face.’

“Okay. Okay.” Seb said with his arms up in defense. After a few minutes of reading the fanfic Sebastian actually said ‘aww’ aloud just like Mackie after he first read the story.

“It was good wasn’t it.” Anthony asked with a toothy grin.

“Yeah this was really good. Y/B/N is a pretty good writer.” Sebastian said looking through your feed.

“You should tell her!” Anthony exclaimed.

“What, like make an account?” Seb asked.

“Well yeah, but I mean not your actual name of course. Make a fan account. Show these writers your appreciation, I know that if I were an author I would love that (a/n: wink wink). I’ve messaged a few writers complimenting their work without actually telling them who I am.” Anthony said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna read more stuff from her before I message her.” Sebastian chuckled. Sebastian clicked onto your main blog page to find that you had just posted a new fic about him. “Wait, dude she just posted a new story...About me!” Sebastian exclaimed, showing his phone to Anthony.

“Nice, but we have to finish these interviews. You gotta read it during your free time man, sorry to crush your dreams.” he chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Sebastian sighed and followed his co-stars actions getting out of the car and continuing the rest of his day filled with interviews.

*later that evening*

After the interviews Anthony and Sebastian had dinner together at a fancy restaurant. During their dinner they talked about how crazy some interviews were. Sebastian brought up the subject of how Mackie publicly announced that he had read fanfiction. With that still stuck in his mind the two finished their meal and after parting ways. Sebastian took a cab and arrived at his apartment, changed out of his fancy suit to some comfy clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge. He walked over to his couch turning on the tv, not really paying attention to what was playing, grabbing his phone he opened the tumblr app finally creating an account.

*one week later*

Sebastian has read almost all of your works and texting Anthony almost every time after he has finished a new fic giving his reactions to each. He has liked and reblogged everything he has read from you and other writers, but he favors your stuff the most.

Mackie: dude you should tell her you like her stuff and stop texting me!

Seb: Alright I will, I just don't know what to say.

Mackie: Just say you like her work. It's as simple as that.

Seb: okay okay I will

Mackie: ok good, no stop texting my its legit 2 am

Seb: fine

Sebastian opened up the messaging area of the app and began typing away his appreciation to you. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous after he pressed send. Getting out of the app completely he tried to focus on whatever was playing on the tv. Then all of a sudden he heard a notification go off and his phone light up. Looking down on it he saw that it was a notification from you. Again his nervousness took place as he unlocked his phone to read the notification. The app opened and the direct message filled his phone screen.

(a/n: this is my first time using a fake dm thingy so just imagine that Seb is following you)

Seb: Holy shit dude, she actually replied back to me!

Mackie: Well of course she did, she's not a robot. But maybe she is since she’s up so late...

Seb: shut up and why are you still up? I though you were mad at me for texting you

Mackie: well you woke me up so what am i supposed to do

Seb: whatever I’ll let you go

Mackie: alright. bye lover boy

Sebastian shook his head at the text, he went back to the app to reply back to you. “What should I say?” he said to himself. “Maybe she’s in a different time zone or lives across the world or something… Okay okay. Maybe be chill and say I hope i didn’t wake you? No that sounds weird.” he shook his head trying to come up with something to say. Eventually he fell asleep trying to think of what to say to you.

*the next morning/later that day*

Sebastian woke up with his phone gone from his hand. He quickly got out of his bed in panic to look for it. Maybe you had said something to him or he had said something dumb to you. Once he found his phone he quickly unlocked it to check and thank god he didn’t say anything stupid. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head clearing his thoughts. “Alright I think I know what to say.”

Y/N’s POV

You woke up to the sound of cars honking, groaning you looked at your clock. “How is it already 10 am?” you said aloud to nobody in particular. You sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone scrolling through various social media apps. At the top of your screen you saw a notification from tumblr. Opening the app to the notifications section, you noticed it was a blog that had messaged you from earlier in the morning.

sebstan_fan: Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Carter. I don’t know where you live, but I just woke up and had a dream about one of your fics. (wow I hope that didn’t sound creepy)

You smiled at the message, since you loved interacting with your followers.

y/b/n: haha its ok. I actually live near New York City and I also woke up. What was your dream about? (if i can ask)

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had just finished taking a shower and began preparing his late breakfast. “Holy shit she replied again!” he said to himself looking at the message.

sebstan_fan: Wait, you live near NYC! Me too! Wow such a small world. But anyways my dream was honestly just a reenactment of your fic.

y/b/n: that’s so crazy how we live near each other lol. But that's so cool how you dreamt about my work. You must have really liked it.

sebstan_fan: yeah it was really interesting how you wrote such a life like scenario.

y/b/n: thank you Carter <3

sebstan_fan: ok I now this is random, but what’s your favorite place to eat in New York?

y/b/n: ooh that’s tough. Let’s go with Lombardi’s since its the very first pizza place to open in the US

sebstan_fan: oh wow an excellent choice :)

*a couple weeks later*

You and your new tumblr friend have been talking about one another’s favorite hobbies and interests for the past few weeks. You feel like you have grown a new connection with your new friend and telling them about your shitty days at work. Today your best friend wanted to bring you with her and her boyfriend to some fancy restaurant.

y/b/n: Carter, I’m practically third wheeling with her and her boyfriend.

sebstan_fan: well that sounds awful. Where is she taking you?

y/b/n: idk to some fancy restaurant I’ve never heard of. Anyways she’s making me wear fancy clothes, but I just wanna wear my pajamas!

sebstan_fan: y/n come on. you gotta dress nice if other people are dressing nice too

y/b/n: ughh ok I think I found something nice. *sends picture of yourself in an elegant dress* what about this?

Seb’s POV

Sebastian got a glass of water and sat back down on his couch. Unlocking his phone to see the new dm from you he spit his water out of his mouth wetting the coffee table in front of him. “HOLY SHIT SHE’S GORGEOUS!” he yelled aloud staring at his phone in awe of your beauty.

sebstan_fan: Y/N, you look amazing! That dress is literally making you glow!

y/b/n: stop you’re making me blush..my friend just pulled up. I’ll dm you later once this stupid night is over.

sebstan_fan: alright have fun

y/b/n: <3

Sebastian quickly called Mackie to tell him that you sent him a photo of yourself.

“Dude, she is unbelievably gorgeous. I actually spit my water out all over my coffee table when I saw the picture. ” Sebastian said on the phone.

“Man you are so obsessed with her, it's kinda creepy.” Anthony replied through the phone.

“What? No man, we just clicked. We have a bunch in common and she’s really easy to talk to.” Sebastian gushed to his friend.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that you’re lying to her about your real identity. You’re like fucking Superman with a secret persona!” Anthony snickered at the man on the other line.

“Dude no, but I’ll tell her eventually that I’m me.” Seb replied back to Anthony.

“Well you better do it soon because I’m tired of hearing about you gushing over this woman.” Anthony huffed under his breath. “Anyways I gotta go so bye bitch.”

Sebastian laughed at his friend hanging up the phone and heading to his room getting ready for bed. As he laid on his bed he couldn’t take his mind off of you in that dress. You were so open with sharing your life to him, a complete stranger, yet he couldn’t do the same.

*the next day*

y/b/n: Carter! I forgot to dm you once I got home, but that dinner was terrible. I hated every minute of it.

sebstan_fan: what happened? Also good morning :)

y/b/n: good morning, sorry if I woke you. But anyways my best friend and her boyfriend brought some dude to make it a double date and the guy was a complete douche. I couldn’t stand a minute being there.

sebstan_fan: damn I’m sorry to hear that. I bet if I was there with you the night wouldn’t have been so bad haha

y/b/n: creepy..jk But I bet we would have completely ditched my friend and her boyfriend lol

sebstan_fan: wait, I got an idea! I mean since we live around the same area why don’t we meet!

y/b/n: what like in person?

sebstan_fan: no through zoom, yes in person!

y/b/n: wow the sarcasm in this one, but that sounds like a lovely idea. I feel like I already know so much about you tho...

Sebastian huffed under his breath, “not everything.”

sebstan_fan: lol yeah but it’ll be different to meet in person. Anyways where should we meet?

y/b/n: lol that’s true. Well I know this small cafe that’s so cute and I heard they have pretty good pastries. It would be awesome to meet there :D

sebstan_fan: alright how about Saturday afternoon? You don’t have work right?

y/b/n: nope I’m off! but that sounds good to me! I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. Like what if you’re some creepy stalker...

Sebstan_fan: why would you accuse me of such a thing?!

y/b/n: lol you know i’m just messing with you. But I gotta go my friend is now calling me, probably about that douche from last night...but I can’t wait to see you Carter!<3

“Yeah, me too.” Sebastian said to himself smiling.

*Saturday*

You sat at the cafe where you told your new tumblr friend to meet you. You ordered a drink and once it was finished, you grabbed it and sat near the windows saving a seat for Carter. As you waited you pulled out your laptop and began on typing away a new fic idea drawing inspiration from the small cafe and the gloomy weather outside.

“I’m sorry that seat’s taken...” you muttered to a man who pulled out the chain next to you, looking up at the figure. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed to the man who sat next to you.

“Shhhh...Please don’t say anything.” Sebastian whispered to you, sitting on the chair next to you and taking off his sunglasses.

“What? But how? You’re!? I can’t breathe.” you exclaimed erratically looking down at your drink.

“Hey, hey Y/N, just calm down and take slow deep breaths.” he said calmly placing his hand on your back.

“How the fuck do you know my name?!” you exclaimed again staring wide eyed at the actor. “Am I getting pranked or something? Where are the cameras?!” you nervously laughed looking around the empty cafe.

“No, you’re not getting pranked. It’s me Carter…” he said quietly rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re Carter?! I thought you were a girl!” you said looking into the man’s blue eyes.

“I may have lied about who I was, but I wanted to meet you.” he started as he stared down at the ground. “I didn’t want you to freak out knowing that it was actually me.” he said looking back up at you.

“Let me just gather my thoughts for a sec.” you said, putting your hand to your temples.

“Wait, why did you assume I was a girl?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t know! Carter is a unisex name.” you frantically said with a shrug. “And I mean most of my followers are female, so I just assumed you were one too.” you added grabbing your drink and taking a sip to calm your nerves.

“That makes sense I guess.” he said chuckling, looking out the big window of the cafe.

“This is so crazy that you are here. Sitting next to me and talking about my stupid tumblr blog.” you uttered. “Like you’re famous!”

“Yeah so what.” he looked back to you.

“I mean aren’t you busy filming and stuff?” you asked the man.

“Nope, we just wrapped up the interviews a couple of weeks ago. I’m on vacation.” he said with a toothy grin, which made you blush. “Aww look she’s blushing.” he said sweetly towards you.

“Shut up. It’s not like I get to meet my favorite actor who I’ve had a crush on since forever sitting next to me and casually conversing with.” you muttered quickly hoping he didn’t hear your profession of love for him.

“You got a crush on me?” he smiled at you.

“Fuck you. I do not!” you exclaimed looking away from him.

“Aww I think you do.” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“Whatever.” you said under your breath trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, I’m in awe too.” he began, which made you look at him. “It’s not like I get to see a beautiful woman who I like.” he smirked at you.

“I think I’m dreaming. Did you just say you like me?!” you asked pinching yourself back into reality.

“I mean yeah. I really like your work as a writer and the past what month we’ve been talking I think you’re a really cool and sweet person.” he said now blushing.

“I bet you say that to all the women you meet.” scoffing at his comment.

“No I’m serious Y/N. I think you’re a really talented writer. And I think you’re also really pretty.” again blushing, but this time he looked straight at you.

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much Sebastian.” you hesitated, your cheeks heating up. “That means a lot coming from you.” you smiled.

“Of course. And also I wanted to ask you in person if after coming clear about who I actually am, if you wanted to go out sometime. I know its weird and all sudden but-”

“Yes!” you exclaimed quickly cutting him off. “I mean. I would love to.” you said more calmly. “God, I’m trying so hard to keep my inner fangirl in.” you huffed under your breath.

Sebastian laughed at your comment and then asked, “Alright then. What about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?”

“That sounds delightful.” you smiled at the man. The two of you fell silent watching the people who passed by the small cafe.

“Oh, but can I ask you one more question? Why are you wearing a hat? And shades earlier? It's legit rainy and cloudy as hell outside.” you asked, looking at the man with your head resting on your hand.

“I’m going incognito. I don’t want my fans to recognize me.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Are you embarrassed of them seeing you with me?” you hesitantly interrogated.

“No, I just don't want them to interrupt our first date.” he responded with a smirk looking at you.

“Wait, this is a date?!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“Only if you want it to be sweetheart.” Sebastian smirked, winking towards you.

“Fuck you.” You said with a smile.

A/N: Yay you finished! Was that good? bad? cheesy? lemme know lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you get excited for more stuff to come.

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan @princess76179 @anbrax5553 @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes @miraclesoflove @kitkatd7 @msgreenverse @saiyanprincessswanie @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom @thefallenbibliophilequote

^please lemme know if you wanna be added to future works or removed for tags^

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian x reader #reader x sebastian #sebastian stan x reader #reader x sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #you x sebastian #sebastian x you #you x sebastian stan #reader insert #sebastian stan fluff

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pixy-stix-art · 3 years

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Confessions and Solutions

Tiny assistant au: Giants: Tubbo + Wilbur + Philza tinies: Ranboo + Tommy + Technoblade warnings: language, mentions of trauma, terriblecharacter!dream, objectifying/ referring to someone as an 'it' in a degrading way [Sorry it’s a bit shorter but my phone keyboard stopped working and I got really busy with work. Anyways here’s the next part! -™️] --------------------------------- "And, well, that's when I found Tommy." Tubbo finished, eyes trained on Ranboo who had let himself be picked up while Tubbo recounted everything. "Okay...that... Makes sense." Phil sighed before turning his tired gaze onto Wilbur who smiled sheepishly. "So what's your deal?" "Well the big shot company I was testing for makes the assistant phones." Wilbur shrugged. "I've seen firsthand the hell they're put through to be 'obedient'. They're tortured dad." A beat of silence fell over the room as Phil looked between them all, his thoughts hidden behind unwavering blue. Then a sigh came from Phil as his gaze softened and he smiled. “I can’t fault you two for taking it upon yourselves to help someone.” Tubbo and Wilbur exchanged a look. Phil hummed. “So I take it you’re trying to keep Tommy a secret? As for the pink phone’s assistant, what can I do to help?” Tubbo relaxed, letting Ranboo step off of his hands as he stood and wrapped his dad in a hug. “Thank you...” “Of course.” Phil returned the embrace, ruffling Tubbo’s hair as well. “Besides, Kristen would’ve killed me if I wasn’t willing to listen to you two.” A quiet buzzing filled the air, causing everyone tp glance over at Ranboo. He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I was trying to give Techno a jump.” “Ah right.” Phil nodded. “I- I’m sorry for the way I’ve talked to you Ranboo. Do you have like, pronouns you prefer?” Ranboo blinked. “Oh, uh yeah. He/him, or They/Them.” Phil nodded before turning to Tommy who just shrugged. “He/Him.” Tubbo had to hold back a laugh at the perturbed look of Phil’s face at the casualness of Tommy. “So Ranboo, what were you doing?” Wilbur asked, moving his chair closer to see what Ranboo was doing as he leaned over Techno’s phone. Tubbo carefully moved Tommy and Ranboo’s phone closer to Techno’s and sat back down next to Wilbur. with an eyeroll he motioned for Phil to do the same. “So it’s not uncommon for an assistant to get locked in a feedback loop when their wake button is pressed too many times.” Ranboo hummed. “Think of it like uhhh disassociation? It’s when we try to exit our phones but can’t summon a form to do so, usually because of low energy. What I’m doing is feeding a low voltage charge to his battery so he won’t get forced out of the phone immediately when it turns back on.” Wilbur hummed and pulled out a small notebook. “So why did plugging him in not work?” “Well-“ “Because Techno’s smarter than to let a full charge hit his fucking battery.” Tommy cut in. “It’d cause him a lot of problems that would take weeks for him to fix himself or a trip to a repair shop. And since he’s ‘defective’ that’s not really an option.” “Got it!” They turned and watched as the screen lit up softly, a circle forming with a pig head with a crown in the center. “Oh that’s a badass symbol.” Tommy said as the phone unlocked. “Okay, hey Techno?” Tubbo watched as Ranboo softly tapped on the phone’s side. The symbol appeared again but no voice came from the phone. “Okay we can plug him in now, he can regulate the charge.” Ranboo leaned up and smiled as he was immediately met with grateful looks from Tubbo and Wilbur. Wilbur quickly plugged in the phone and sat down with a hum. “So... I may have found someone who can do a repair on Tommy’s phone.” Tubbo whipped around in shock then barely caught Tommy as he teleported near the table edge in shock. “Wait really?!” Tubbo asked in shock. “Who?!” Wilbur sighed. “So there’s this kid that I had to track an assistant phone for, his name is Jack. Turns out his assistant, Nikki, got directions mixed up because she was a resell and her original language was set to german.” Wilbur paused as he saw the looks from his family. “No! He’s a really kind dude, Nikki is in good hands with him, and he treats her like a friend. Plus he’s a certified phone technician for EmSea so he might have extra parts, especially since Tommy is an older generation, he wouldn’t have to log any parts used since he’s not getting new stock of the older tech.” Tubbo glanced over at Tommy who returned the look with a wide grin. “Alright, so how do we contact him?”

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wireddless · 3 years

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Codeine Scene (Five H. x Reader) [3]

Codeine Scene Masterlist

Authors Note: First off, I am SO sorry. New Years is always a slow time for me, and I did not mean to take this long to publish. Second of all, this chapter is a transition chapter into a much more fucked up story. I’m warning you now that the rest of this fic will get really really dark. I don’t recommend reading after this chapter if you can’t handle depictions of r*pe, murder, heavy drug use (cocaine, etc,) and other disturbing topics . I’m basing this story off of personal experiences, and in no way do I want someone who isn’t ready to read something like this to read this. This is like the last safe chapter, please do not read after this if you can’t handle the topics mentioned above

Summary: Klaus moves Reader up to Ben’s old room early in the morning. Afterwards, they eat breakfast and decide to trip on acid together. Five learns more about her than he expected to today

Warnings: Drug use (LSD[acid],) mentions of suicide, mentions of sex

Word Count: 3777

Taglist: @alexander-hamilhoe @dumdumsun

The gentle shaking of (Y/n)’s shoulder pulled her from her sleep. Klaus stood over her, harshly whispering her name. Looking towards his window, she could see the sky was just barely starting to light up, it was still early.

“Klaus it’s like 7:30!” She quickly grabbed the sheet that was covering her from the waist down and yanked it over her head. A small groan left Klaus’s mouth and he yanked it back off of her. “It’s Sunday!” She tried convincing him to let her sleep in, but it was no use.

“I talked to Ben and he said you could stay in his room!” Klaus wrestled with (Y/n) over the blanket, knowing she was still tired. Ever the impatient man he was, Klaus spoke again, “We gotta get you settled in right now!”

“Fine! Fine. I’m up.” (Y/n) sat up and shoved her matted hair out of her face. “Why right now?” Klaus looked at her like the answer was obvious. It wasn’t, of course.

“Because trauma can be associated with places! Coming in here right after what happened yesterday could be an issue.” He grabbed a hair brush off of his dresser and pushed her to sit on the bed. Climbing behind her, he started to brush her hair. “Even if you aren’t reminded of it in here, it’s always good to be able to have some privacy.” He made valid points.

“I guess you're right.” Klaus was extraordinarily gentle with her hair, pulling out all of the mats and even putting in the effort to put it in a low ponytail to keep it out of her face. “Thank you.” (Y/n) turned and smiled at Klaus, pulling him into a quick, tight, hug.

Ben's room was up the green stairway, across from Five’s room. (Y/n)’s face scrunched a little when she realized Five would be right across the hallway, but she didn’t complain. Her arms were a little tired from carrying her suitcase and heavier back pack up the stairs so early in the morning, but it would fade rather quickly.

Klaus opened the door and stepped aside, letting (Y/n) rush to the bed with her heavy luggage. “Dad replaced everything in this room a week after Ben died.” Klaus sat on the bed next to her luggage, and she plopped next to him. “He said old reminders would only set us back, so he made this one of many guest rooms.” Klaus peered in the closet, knowing that Ben’s academy uniforms were no longer hanging pristinely on the rack.

“He didn’t die in here, did he?” (Y/n) turned to look at Klaus, feeling heavy sympathy.

“Oh no! A mission went wrong, and I suppose we all messed up, but the monster inside his chest started tearing him apart.” Klaus’s usual, very happy energy, was replaced by a solemn, cold one. “He died in the infirmary.” Klaus looked down at the bedsheets. They weren’t the one that Ben had used. “I still talk to him every day, but it still makes me a little sad.” Klaus sniffled and rubbed his eyes.

(Y/n) pulled Klaus into a bone crushing hug, knowing he needed the comfort. “That’s terrible.” She was a very empathetic person, relying more on feeling than thinking, so she was struggling to hold back her own tears. “Are you sure he’s ok with this?”

“Yeah! He said something about moving on, and finally attempting to find peace.” Klaus clapped his hands once as he stood. “He’s kind of started meditating too, which is kind of weird, because he’s a ghost and all.” He stood and glanced around the room, getting a good look at it before (Y/n) would make it her own. “Let’s go get some breakfast after we unpack, huh?”

“That sounds nice.” (Y/n) stood and hugged Klaus again, silently letting him know that she was there for him.

The walk all the way down to the basement kitchen was unexpectedly exhausting. Six flights of stairs later, two flights between every floor, they were sitting at the table, staring at Five scrape his eggs off the skillet and onto his toast.

“I’m not making eggs for you two.” His voice was monotone and annoyed. He wasn’t a morning person. “Take some responsibility and make them yourself.” Five grabbed his food and coffee, and looked at both of them before giving his usual tight-lipped smirk and blipping away, presumably to his room.

Klaus released a few small giggles he was holding in and hopped off the island. “He always seems to add a little spice to life.”

As he was making his way over to the fridge to grab some eggs, (Y/n) asked; “Is he like this every morning?” Not wasting a second after her question, Klaus replied.

“Yep!” He pulled out four eggs and set them in a clean bowl on the counter. “Without a doubt. It’s worse on weekdays too, because the classes he teaches are all early in the morning. Now do you want scrambled, fried, or boiled?”

“Scrambled, please.” As Klaus got to work on making breakfast for the two of them, she thought about what Five might teach. “Hey Klaus?”

“Yeah?” Klaus was stirring the already scrambled eggs in the skillet.

“What does Five teach? I mean it makes sense that he’s a teacher, but I just can’t think of what he’d be so willing to teach for a living.” Klaus looked back at (Y/n) before down at the eggs again. Her chin was resting in her hands, and she stared over at him, waiting for his answer.

“I think some sort of ethics class, like there’s different types of ethics, but that’s all I really know. He doesn’t really talk about work, and it’s a bit weird considering he was an assassin.” Klaus split the scrambled eggs in two separate bowls with forks in them and gave one to (Y/n).

“He killed people?” (Y/n) dug into the eggs, shoving them in her mouth, listening for Klaus.

“We’ve all dabbled with a little murder before, it’s not really that big of a deal for us, but he swore never to kill for someone else again, I’m pretty sure.” Klaus fillet out a little moan of joy as he started filling his own stomach with the eggs.

“That must be why he was so unphased about what happened yesterday, that makes me feel a lot better.” She concluded, trying not to remember the way she nearly beat the life out of the man in Five’s car as she shoved more of Klaus’s eggs in her mouth. “These are really good!”

“Danke!” Klaus thanked her in German, with a mouth full of eggs. He swallowed them and continued speaking. “That actually reminds me- you’ve done acid right?” (Y/n) thought on the question for a moment before answering.

“No actually, but I did do shrooms a lot with my friends before I dropped out.” Her fork scraped the bowl, trying to get the last of the eggs.

“Good! You have experience.” Klaus poured the last of his eggs in his mouth, straight from the bowl, before swallowing. “Would you like to do acid with me? You don’t have to, but I feel like this would definitely raise your spirits.” Klaus leaned toward her, waiting for her answer.

“I’d love to actually.” (Y/n) swallowed the last of her eggs, and stacked her bowl with Klaus’s, before taking them to the sink to wash them. Klaus stood and followed her, digging in the breast pocket of his half-unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and pulling out a small square of folded tin foil.

“Great! Now stick your tongue out.” Klaus unfolded the foil and pulled a tiny white square of paper, roughly the size of a phone keyboard key, out from the six-ish others in it. (Y/n) stuck her tongue out as she rinsed the now-clean bowls and Klaus placed the piece of paper on it, before sticking one on his own tongue.

(Y/n) stuck her tongue back in her mouth and sucked a bit on the paper. “So do I swallow it, or…?” The tab didn’t make it any harder to talk, thank god.

“If you want to, but you absorb it faster when it’s in your mouth.” Klaus picked up the bowls and started drying them. “It’s not bitter at all is it?” Klaus asked, checking to make sure she didn’t take a laced tab.

(Y/n) focused on the tab again, not really noticing any taste. “Not that I can notice.” Klaus smiled as he shut the cabinet where he placed the bowls.

“That means we’re all good! You can swallow it when the paper feels soggy enough, though, you’ve probably absorbed most of it by now.” Klaus led her back upstairs to his room, practically dragging her by her wrist. “Things are gonna get really funny for a little bit before you actually start tripping.” Klaus shut the door behind them and plopped on his bed.

“Doesn’t it take like an hour to kick in?” This wasn’t her first rodeo, so she knew her way around at least a bit.

“Yeah yeah, it’s kinda like shrooms? But the visuals and the trip are just a bit different, you’ll see what I mean.” Klaus grabbed a joint he had rolled earlier and lit up, taking a few puffs before passing it to (Y/n). “Just settle in for like half an hour and then get up to see how you feel.”

•••

Tripping on LSD was a profound experience. (Y/n) wasn’t able to go outside, as it was raining cold, so she stayed inside, wandering around the house. She and Klaus made some really cool art, and Klaus held it over the vents to dry while she was walking around the house.

Tripping felt like seeing the universe fully for the first time, and she could somewhat understand Klaus’s view of the world. Many times throughout the last three hours, she thought she saw Five blipping away out of the corner of her eye. She had dismissed it every time, of course.

Now the trip was peaking, and the visuals were insane. The air around (Y/n) felt like breathable, transparent, clay, and it was a little overwhelming with all the visuals, so she opened the door in front of her and quietly sat next to it, letting out a long, happy sigh. Closing her eyes, she paid attention to the gorgeous visuals she could see behind her eyelids.

(Y/n) didn’t even notice Five sitting on his bed, staring at her from over his book. She was too focused on the movement behind her eyelids, and the euphoric feeling surrounding her, so when Five spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I think you have the wrong room.” The sound of Five closing his book reached her ears.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I- I wasn’t paying attention I’ll leave.” (Y/n) stumbled over her words as she tried to stand, clearly embarrassed.

“No, no, it’s fine actually.” Five spoke, rather out of character. “A little company once in a while feels nice, and I see no harm when you’re being quiet.” His face was beyond distorted, but she could still recognize his permanent scowl.

“Really?” (Y/n) settled back down, more relaxed and at ease.

“Yeah, I don’t really care.” Five grabbed his book again, opening it back to where he was. “Just don’t be too annoying.”

“I won’t don’t worry.” Five grunted quietly at her response. A smile painted itself on her face, and she slid all the way down the wall, with her head now on the floor with the rest of her.

•••

And she was quiet. Five watched for like an hour and a half as her eyes slowly focused on something new in his room every few moments. She was quite taken by the math equations across his wall, and he found it rather cute. He started to find her less annoying, now understanding that she coped the way his brother did.

He was alone once again in his room now, no longer accompanied by (Y/n). In fact, she was accompanied by one of her “friends.” She barely even knew the guy.

Five could hear everything. Every moan. Every word spoken with the intent of being quiet, but wasn’t held under the gentle guise of a whisper. It infuriated him.

Of course, he understood that she didn’t grow up in a particularly healthy home, given that she was in a homeless shelter at almost 18, so she didn’t understand healthy coping habits. It genuinely hurt his heart, if just a little bit, that he could watch another hurt soul walk down the same path as his brother.

Klaus had gotten help for his addictions, and was off addictive drugs completely, but even Five understood that not everyone will be able to get the help they need. He wouldn’t say he had any feelings for her, but he still felt sympathy.

Knowing that it was how she coped made hearing all of it a little easier, but he still wasn’t able to handle it after hearing it for fifteen minutes, so he jumped down to the kitchen, brewed himself some herbal tea, added a little vodka, and read his book, criss cross, on the table in the center of the room, attempting to ignore what was happening right across from his room.

•••

Bailey had just left, and (Y/n) was exhausted. He was kind of an ass, and he treated her like shit in middle school, but he was a horny teen, and it was really easy to just invite him over.

The trip was fading out now. She was no longer peaking, and the visuals were far less intense. (Y/n), after standing at the stairs, staring at them for a couple minutes, deemed it safe to be able to walk down them. She knew it was normally safe to go down the steps while tripping, but something in her head told her to wait, so she did.

These particular steps were a little steep, as well, so she made her way down slowly, leading herself to the kitchen in the basement. Her bare feet padded quietly on the floor as she walked to the stove, turning the heating element under the tea kettle on. The bags under her eyes felt so beyond heavy, and she knew she’d be sleeping deeply tonight.

“You done up there?” Five’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. (Y/n) turned and leaned on the counter to face him.

“Yeah, yeah, he left like ten minutes ago. I’m just really tired and want some tea to relax I guess.” Her arms were crossed, comfortably holding each other up.

Five hummed in response. “Well I see we both thought of the same thing.” He lifted his mug of tea, peppermint maybe, and put it to his lips.

“I thought you only drank coffee.” (Y/n) chuckled a little feeling the heat of the stove begin to reach her back.

“Well it wouldn’t be very logical to drink caffeine so late in the day, especially when I have to teach an early class tomorrow.” Five flipped the page of his book, continuing to read while talking to her.

“Makes sense.” Her words were drowned out by the high whistling of the tea kettle, letting her know she could pour it into the cup. Grabbing the tin of loose leaf tea, she hummed as she scooped it into the reusable tea bag that was next to it.

(Y/n) dropped the tea bag in the cup, following up with the boiling water. She turned, bringing her and her cup to the table, now sitting next to Five. Five was a grumpy, annoying, old, man who has to grow up all over again, but his company was enjoyable, it contrasted hers in such a way that it comforted her. It made her feel like her ADHD was less severe, like her inability to focus was matched by someone who could do nothing but focus.

Only a day had gone by since they met, and she was already comforted by him.

Five shut his book and looked over at her. The more he got to know her, the more subtly enjoyable he found her. Her sitting not two feet from him didn’t bother him as much as it usually would. He was kind of ok with that.

“You drink peppermint?” (Y/n)’s voice was scratchy and hoarse. She really did need the tea.

“Yeah, it’s the least fruity from what I’ve tried.” He took another sip. “Simple classic.” He set it down and looked over at her, engaging in an unexpected conversation.

“I tend to prefer fruitier teas, I’ve noticed.” She looked down at the cup that she’d been drinking out of for a couple minutes now. “They go down easier and really comfort me. Reminds me of my mom, she only ever made fruity teas.” She took another sip, letting the warmth fill her up.

“What happened to your mom?” Five looked back down at his drink, then back up at the girl next to him. “I noticed that you didn’t exactly live with her when we picked up your stuff.”

“Yeah..” (Y/n) hesitated a little. He was awfully blunt. “I was like seven when it happened, but I’m told it was a double suicide, between her and dad.” Her legs were swinging a little nervously. “Mom sent me up to my room one night and told me not to come out until she opened the door, no matter what. The next day a detective came into my room and carried me out screaming. They were both dead on the floor. I lived with my aunt and uncle after that.”

“Oh shit.” Five didn’t expect her answer to be this upsetting.

“Yeah. My uncle told me it was a double suicide, my aunt said the same thing, she manipulated me and made me think they did it because of me.” (Y/n) sighed into her drink, her distorted reflection staring back at her. “I don’t even remember what the scene looked like, just a lot of blood. I don’t look at anything about it either, don’t really want to relive it.”

“That’s really tough, wow.” Five chuckled uncomfortably and finished his drink. “I didn’t know my mother, but my mom was a robot. She was pretty much indestructible, but she was fully shut off when our house was being attacked a long time ago.”

“Oh my.” (Y/n)’s voice was soft, hoarse, and tired. Her hand gently moved to rest atop his, not really knowing how else to reassure him, if he even needed it, of course. “I’m sorry about that.”

Five didn’t even seem to notice his hand being covered. “No it’s fine, I got over it long long ago.” His words were just slightly slurred, and his eyes had reddened slightly.

“Well I’m here if you ever need like, a hug or something.” (Y/n) laughed. “I don’t really know how else to comfort anyone.”

“It shouldn’t be your job to comfort anyone, that’s not your responsibility.” Five chuckled and smiled slightly. (Y/n) hadn’t expected him to smile, and it wasn’t as weird as she thought it would be.

Before she could even mention it though, Klaus’s happy, booming voice echoed in the kitchen as he practically skipped to the fridge. As she yanked her hand away from Five, she noticed the way he pulled his arm away as well. Maybe he did notice?

Klaus and Five started talking about something as he got off the table and placed his cup in the sink, but she wasn’t paying attention. Before her attention was quickly pulled to the floor, she thought on the way Five had wrenched his arm away.

As anxiety inducing as it was, the LSD that was still in her system made it easy to quickly move onto the next thought. Before she knew it, a flash of blue wrenched her out of her head and she looked up at Klaus, now alone with her in the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetie.” Klaus kissed her cheek and led her gently off the table and to the stairs. “Your trip going good?” He popped a black olive in his mouth.

“Yeah it’s going fine, I really like it. It’s kinda different from shrooms, but not like a bad different.” She was just two steps behind him, trying to keep the same pace as him.

“That’s great.” Klaus hummed as he popped another olive in his mouth. “These are absolutely amazing. I figured you would like it, it’s really calming and stuff for me. Makes the sad feeling kinda disappear for weeks after.”

“Oh same, I’ve just felt creative and warm all day.” They stopped in front of Klaus’s room, Klaus still eating his olives. “I’m actually exhausted too, the trip felt really nice.”

“Well I’m glad I could have helped.” Klaus pulled her into a tight hug, humming loudly. Hugs felt great on psychedelics, she had noticed.

“You helped so much.” (Y/n)’s voice was slightly muffled by Klaus’s chest. She pulled out of Klaus’s chest, speaking again. “I’m gonna go to bed now, if that’s ok, I’m so so tired.” She laughed a little.

“That’s fine, I’m gonna crash the moment I hit my bed, so..” Klaus smiled down at her, thankful for this mini-him.

“Night night, Klaus.” (Y/n) and Klaus both separated to head to their rooms, both about to sleep deeply enough to miss a train going through the house.

The stairs up to her new room were an almost pastel green color, covered by what looked to be years of grime and nicotine stains. It added character, she thought. The checkerboard floor at the top of the stairs seemed to lead her straight to her new room, which she was really thankful for, she was exhausted.

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, twisting the old carved crystal just enough to open it. She closed it the same way, with just enough effort for it to work, she could have sworn she saw something blue flash near her, but she doubted herself immediately. Once she plopped on the bed, her fingers dragged her phone across the sheets towards her.

It took (Y/n) two full minutes to open her phone, not remembering her password and then not being able to type the right letters slowed her down significantly. It wouldn’t matter though, because once she turned on some quiet music, she was fast asleep.

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justlookfrightened · 4 years

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Birthday surprises

For the prompt: Jack secretly loves surprise parties

“So how did you celebrate Canada Day when you were growing up?’ Bitty asked, carrying the pie to the table. “Was it like the Fourth of July, with parades and fireworks and red and white bunting everywhere?”

“Sort of,” Jack said. “It wasn’t such a big deal in Montreal, because, y’know, Quebec. A few years ago they made it moving day in Quebec just to screw with the government in Montreal.”

“Moving day?” Bitty asked. “Wait just a second.”

He turned to the counter behind him and picked up a small Candian flag, which he stuck in the middle of the pie.

“Happy Canada Day!”

“Euh, thanks,” Jack said. “Moving day is when everyone’s leases end and their new leases start. So thousands of people are moving on Canada Day. There were always fireworks over the harbor, though. Sometimes we’d go see them if we were in town.”

“Well, then, happy moving day,” Bitty said. “So not much like Madison on the Fourth of July?”

“Bits, nothing is like Madison on the Fourth of July,” Jack said.

“I’m sure the fireworks aren’t as good --”

“I have very fond memories of the fireworks in Madison,” Jack said. “Best fireworks of my life. Are you okay staying here for the Fourth this year?”

Bitty shrugged.

“I guess so,” he said. “The shop’s just getting on its feet, and I can’t really take much time off yet, and that would mean flying down on the morning of the fourth and back the next day. And Mama and Coach said they’d come up to see us for a weekend before school starts down there. We can still go to the fireworks and all here on the Fourth, right?”

“Your parents are coming up?” Jack asked. “Do you know when?”

“Beginning of August,” Bitty said. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure their visit doesn’t conflict with your big birthday celebration.”

“My … what?”

“Your birthday?” Bitty said. “You’re turning 30 a little over a month from today. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“No, but a big celebration?”

“Oh, no, sweet pea,” Bitty said. “I meant ‘big birthday,’ like turning 30 is a big deal. Not a big celebration for your birthday. I know you don’t like that kind of thing.”

“Oh,” Jack said, looking down at his pie. “Okay. That’s good.”

“Unless you want my parents here for your birthday?” Bitty said. “I was thinking your parents might come, but … I’m sure my folks would be happy to.”

“No,” Jack said. “No, that’s fine.”

****

“I’m so glad you and Bits decided to do this,” Shitty said, taking another drag on his joint. “You guys aren’t usually around on the Fourth, but the rest of this summer looks crazy for me, and then you have the season coming up. I wouldn’t want it to be too long between visits.”

“Crazy this summer?” Jack said. “What’s up?”

“Work stuff,” Shitty said. “It looks like we’re going to trial against that chemical plant at the end of August, and it’s gonna be like seven days a week getting ready. I already told Lards to prepare for work-widowhood.”

“Yeah?” Jack said. “How’d she take that?”

“I’m not sure,” Shitty said. “You think I’m crazy enough to say shit like that when she’s awake?”

“Haha.”

“No, seriously, she’s leaving next week for a six-week residency at some artist colony in the Berkshires, and then she’s got a show to mount for the gallery at the end of August. I’m not sure she’ll even notice.”

“Come on, Shits,” Jack said. “You know she will.”

“I know,” Shitty said. “It’s just fucking hard sometimes, you know? I mean, it seemed like all the lawyers I knew when I was a kid had lunch and played golf all day. Plenty of time for fucking around. Too late I learned it doesn’t work that way in the public interest sector. And who knew being a successful artist was so time-consuming? How do you and Bits make it work?”

Jack shrugged. It was difficult, with his life consumed by hockey and Bitty’s time taken up more and more by a successful career in -- baking media? Jack wasn’t even sure what to call it, since Bits wasn’t just a baker, just a cookbook author, just an Internet and TV personality. He somehow did all of that, and just this summer had lent his name, personality, and talent to a new shop that sold both baked goods and baking equipment (toys for bakers, Bitty called them) in Providence.

“Remember Bits’ birthday in May?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Shitty said. “The big two-five. Remember how you wanted to throw him a surprise party? That was never gonna happen. Like that boy would ever let anyone else control the menu.”

“I guess you're right,” Jack said. “But I like surprising him. Remember Betsy II?”

“That was sweet,” Shitty said. “And the proposal at Faber, too, you romantic son of a gun.”

“Who told him about the surprise party in May?”

“Uh --”

“Was it you?”

“No.”

“Was it Lardo?”

“Um, she maybe told him not to make plans for that day? Because he was telling her he wanted to plan an overnight getaway because it was the only time it would work with your schedule?” Shitty said. “He took it from there. My understanding is that you caved under questioning.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I guess I did.”

“But don’t worry, brah,” Shitty said. “If I heard about a plan for a surprise party for you, I would totally warn you. I know you’re not into that.”

“Euh, okay?” Jack said. “But --”

“I got your back, brah,” Shitty said, giving Jack an exaggerated wink and nod just as Bitty and Lardo pushed open the sliding door and carried trays of drinks and snacks to the terrace.

“So what did we miss?” Bitty said. “Fireworks haven’t started yet, have they?”

“Nope,” Shitty said. “You’re just in time.”

****

“Jack?” Bitty asked, looking up from his laptop. “Do you know where you want to go for your birthday dinner?”

“Birthday dinner?” Jack said. “We’re not having it here?”

“Well, since I know you don’t like parties, and thirty is kind of a big deal, I thought maybe we should go out.”

“Who said I don’t like parties?” Jack said, pausing the tape of the last game of the Stanley Cup final.

“Please, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “I used to have to beg to get you to show your face at a kegster, and your mama’s told the story about you hiding under the bed to get out of going to that banquet more than a dozen times.”

“I was six,” Jack said.

“I know, sugar, and you haven’t changed a bit,” Bitty said. Then his eyes dropped to Jack’s chest, and lower, and Jack suddenly felt warm. “Except in the obvious ways. I was thinking Hemenway’s for seafood or maybe Waterman Grille or Al Forno with your parents. But it might make more sense to go the night before. Hemenway’s at least is closed on Mondays. Then on the night of your actual birthday, we can eat at home. Steaks on the grill, maybe? Do you want to invite your parents for that, too, or have it be just the two of us?”

Jack wanted to protest that he could want a party even if he didn’t want the debauchery of a kegster, and he shouldn’t be judged by his six-year-old self not wanting to go to a stuffy banquet (even if he still didn’t like stuffy banquets). But the moment seemed to have passed, and really, what Bitty was planning was fine.

Maybe he would get a surprise party for his fortieth, when he wasn’t playing and his friends’ careers were more stable and everyone had more time.

“Any of them are good, but Papa really likes Al Forno,” Jack said. “And I guess they can come on Monday for dinner, as long as they leave early.”

“Now, Jack, that’s not very hospitable of you,” Bitty said with a smirk. “I almost think you have plans. Maybe once I finish making this reservation you can give me a preview.”

He pecked at the keyboard for a few more moments and then closed the laptop.

“Ready when you are, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack clicked off the TV and followed Bitty to the bedroom.

****

“Maman?”

Jack had put off this call until Bitty left for the market.

It wasn’t like his husband was a busybody or nosy. It was just that, what with Jack’s schedule, and the wedding, and Bitty’s career, they were still in the condo Jack bought for himself in Providence when he signed. It wasn’t really small -- it probably had almost as much square footage as the Haus, and only two of them living there -- but it was mostly open-plan and Bitty would know if Jack was hiding in the office to call his parents. Which he was supposed to have done two weeks ago.

“Jacky!” his mother said. “It’s been ages. I saw those pictures you posted from your beach excursion last weekend. It looked like the two of you had fun. But I didn’t know you got a dog.”

“We didn’t?”

“But Bitty --”

“Was playing with a dog in a lot of the pictures?” Jack said.

The dog had run up to their picnic blanket when they moved off the beach proper, into the shady park, for lunch. Jack wasn’t sure exactly what kind it was. It was black and brown, like he thought of a German shepherd being, but much smaller, with long, skinny legs, a pointy nose and floppy ears.

Bitty had immediately started cooing over and petting the creature, despite Jack pointing out that they didn’t know who it belonged to, if it belonged to anyone, where it had been, if it was friendly.

“You don’t know if this dog is friendly?” Bitty had been incredulous. It was pretty ridiculous, given that the dog was more or less washing Bitty’s face with its tongue while Bitty giggled. “And she has a collar. And a tag. Stand still, girl.”

Bitty had still been trying to read the tag, and Jack was still taking pictures, when a teenage girl ran up, a leash in her hand.

“There you are, Eleanor! I’m so sorry! She just jumped out of the car and took off as soon as I opened the door. Eleanor, come!”

“No worries,” Bitty had said, holding the dog while her person clipped the leash to her collar. “We’re always happy to visit with a friendly puppy.”

Jack had been thinking about adopting a dog ever since, if only to see Bitty giggle so much. A dog that could go on runs with him, and keep Bitty company when Jack had to be gone … it might be a good idea. But it wasn’t something to surprise Bitty with. If they adopted a dog, it had to be a joint decision.

“That was just a dog that got loose and came to visit,” Jack said. “Although now that you mention it, I wonder if Bitty might like to have a dog around. I’ll have to ask him.”

“Judging from those pictures, I’m pretty certain he’ll approve,” Alicia said. “Now, did you need to talk about something?”

“Euh, the plans for my birthday?” Jack said. “Bitty wants to take you and Papa to Al Forno on the second, and then cook dinner here on the third.”

“Bitty wants to?” Alicia said. “What about you?”

“I’m not sure why we need to do both,” Jack admitted. “Either would be fine with me. But he seemed set on going out to celebrate because it’s my thirtieth, and a lot of restaurants are closed on Monday. And he was equally set on celebrating on the day of. But he has to work early the next day, so it’ll be an early dinner.”

“You never did like a lot of fuss,” his mother said, not calling him on what he thought was an obvious … not untruth, exactly, Maybe more of a manipulation? “Grumpypants. Of course your father and I will be there for both.”

“I don’t mind fuss,” Jack said.

“Jack, mon coeur, when have you enjoyed people getting together to focus on you?”

“They had a birthday dinner for me at the Haus,” Jack said. “Before my senior year. Bitty made a pie and everything.”

“Were you part of the planning for this dinner?” Alicia said. “Did you even know about it?”

“It just sort of … happened,” Jack said. “But it was nice.”

“Jack, dear, was that the first time Bitty made a pie especially for you?” his mother asked. “Forgive me, but that might have more to do with your fond memories.”

****

“Jack, what kind of pie do you want for your birthday?”

Bitty was sauntering between the farmer’s market booths while Jack trailed along, watching Bitty more than looking at the produce.

“Pie?” Jack asked. “Don’t most people get cake for their birthdays?”

“Do you even know me?” Bitty asked, then turned to examine at a table full of cherries.

Jack accompanied Bitty to the farmer’s market almost every Saturday in the summer. It was an errand, sure, but some weeks it was also the closest they got to a date.

Bitty would probably scoff at that. What did they need with dates, now they were an old married couple? Neither of their schedules permitted a regular date night most of the time, anyway. But in the summer, at least, they had Saturday mornings at the market.

“If you know me, you know what kind of pie I want,” Jack said.

“Maple-crusted apple,” Bitty confirmed, then shook his head sadly. “Have you seen these cherries, Jack? Or the blueberries? There will even be decent peaches up here by the beginning of August. Apples won’t be in season for another six weeks or so.”

It was a familiar argument with no heat in it.

Jack shrugged.

“I like what I like,” he said. “And there are always apples available. You know you’ll make it for me. And something else for whoever wants it.”

“See, you do know me,” Bitty said. He stopped in front of the booth with honey soap but paid it no mind. “Jack, are we becoming old and boring?”

“We always were old and boring,” Jack said. “From the beginning of time.”

“First, speak for yourself, old man,” Bitty said. “Second, I’m not sure whether that was a chirp or flirting. Don’t you know you had me at ‘Eat more protein’?”

“That’s not what you said then.”

“Hush,” Bitty said. “I mean, you don’t have to have the same thing for your birthday every year. Branch out a bit. Maybe a pear tart?”

“I wanted to do something different for your birthday, but then everyone went and told you,” Jack said.

“I’m sorry, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “I would have gone along with it and pretended it was a surprise, but I had to get out of other plans somehow. And people did want to eat. Good food.”

“By which you mean your food,” Jack said.

“I like to think I have a reputation to uphold,” Bitty said, stopping to examine some melons. “Truthfully, I kind of wish I hadn’t found out. You give good surprises.”

“Yeah?”

“Come on, you moose. You know I would have married you after you bought me Betsy II,” Bitty said. “Too bad parties aren’t your thing. Could you imagine a party with all your mom’s A-list friends and your hockey uncles, plus your team and Kent and all? It would be the talk of Providence.”

Jack shuddered.

“Definitely not my thing,” he said.

“I know, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “Besides, celebrating on our own has its advantages. Catch.”

He tossed Jack an eggplant with a smirk

Jack groaned. “Really, Bits?”

“Sorry,” Bitty said. “That was bad. I have what I need. Ready to head home?”

****

Jack was set up and sitting at his computer, half-listening to Bitty going on about whether his deadlines for the next cookbook were remotely reasonable, when the call from Tater came through.

“Zimmboni!” The image of Tater on the screen waved. “Hey, Tater,” Jack said.

“Is that little B?”

Tater’s face moved, like he was trying to see around Jack.

“Yeah, Bitty’s here,” Jack said, waving a hand to get his husband’s attention. “You want to say hi?”

Bitty leaned over his shoulder.

“Hey, Tater! You look good. How’s the family?” he asked.

“Everyone is good,” Tater said. “My mother and my sister Tatiana want to visit this year, so they can meet the baker I’m always talking about.”

“I’d be honored and delighted,” Bitty said. “Don’t forget those recipes you wanted me to try, alright? We can work on them together. You translate and I bake.”

“You speak better Russian you think!” Tater said.

“That’s what you think,” Bitty said. “I have to go to the shop. ПοКа!”

“Bye, Bits,” Jack said. “So, Tater, how’s the conditioning? You keeping up with it?”

“Of course,” Tater said. “Russian training every day.”

“And Russian home cooking every night?”

“Of course,” Tater agreed, grinning.

“How’s everything else?” Jack said. “When are you heading back?”

“Not long now,” Tater said. “No plane ticket yet, but early August, probably. We have dinner then, yes? To celebrate you becoming an old man.”

“Uh, we can have dinner,” Jack said. “But it doesn’t have to be for my birthday. Just to celebrate getting ready for a new season is enough.”

“Why don’t you celebrate?” Tater said. “I hear from Marty, Snowy, Thirdy, all the guys, that Jack is having a big birthday and didn’t invite them to the party. I say, ‘You know Jack. He probably isn’t even having a party.’ And they say, ‘You’re right, Tater. Jack hates parties.’”

“I don’t hate parties,” Jack said.

“You were not at Marty’s daughter’s party,” Tater countered.

“That was a kid birthday,” Jack said. “And Bitty had to go to New York for work that day, so I went with him.”

“Right,” Tater said. “But Bitty would be here for your party.”

“I’m not having a party,” Jack said.

“But you could if you want,” Tater said. “So you don’t want. So why do you hate parties?”

Jack ignored the question in favor of saying, “Just let me know when you're coming in, and I’ll pick you up at the airport if you want,” Jack said. “As long as you shut up about the party.”

“What party?”

****

Jack put on the new blue suit that Maman and Bitty had agreed (insisted, more like) that he should buy. He hesitated over the tie: stripes? paisley? miniature hockey sticks that Papa would find amusing?

No. If he couldn’t be sentimental on his birthday, when could he be? He picked up his pale blue tie, the one Bits told him brought out his eyes on his graduation day, and slid it around his neck.

Bitty was already ready, he knew, in a charcoal grey suit that he got from Jack’s tailor. Getting to see Bitty all dressed up almost made it worth it to Jack to put on a suit on a Sunday in the summer. Well, that and the look that Bitty gave Jack when he emerged from the bedroom.

“You always did clean up nice,” Bitty said. He picked up two boxes of baked goods -- a pie in one, and a couple of kinds of cookies in the other.

“You’re taking food to a restaurant?”

“No, of course not,” Bitty said. “The cookies are for Lauren downstairs. She has a shower to go to and she wanted to bring something. They’re shaped like … you know.”

“Babies?”

“No, a bridal shower,” Bitty said. “A lingerie shower.”

At Jack’s blank look, Bitty muttered something under his breath and said, “A party where they give the bride-to-be sexy underwear and tell naughty jokes.”

“So the cookies look like underwear?” Jack said, all innocence.

“No, Jack,” Bitty said. “They look like dicks, okay?”

“What about the pie?”

“That’s for your mom and dad,” Bitty said. “We’re supposed to meet them at the hotel. They can drop the pie off in their room and then we’ll go to dinner.”

That meant going inside the hotel, probably. Which meant parking and then retrieving the car, and pleasantries in the hotel lobby, and …

“Are you sure we’ll make our reservation?” Jack asked. “I’d hate to get all dressed up for nothing.”

“Aw, sweetpea, I think I can guarantee that won’t happen,” Bitty said, reaching up to pat Jack’s face and give him a peck on the lips. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

Jack pulled up at the hotel valet stand, and when he got out, said, “We’ll only be a few minutes. Keep it close, eh?” with a twenty-dollar bill folded into his palm.

“Your folks said they’d meet us down here,” Bitty said, heading into the lobby. His head swiveled and stopped when he caught sight of Jack’s parents at the hotel bar. Both had drinks in front of them. Great. They’d want to finish, and there might be a bill to settle, too.

He followed as Bitty picked his way across the lobby, exchanged a half-hug with his father while his mother swept Bitty into her arms, and then traded places.

“Jack, you look wonderful,” Alicia said, finally letting go and holding him at arm’s length. “You both do. This summer has agreed with you.”

“Thanks, Maman,” Jack said. “You look great too. Um, are you two almost ready to go?”

“The pie, Jack!” Bitty said.

“Oh, and I have something upstairs to show you, Bitty,” Alicia said. “Come up with me and we can leave the pie in the room.”

“Fine,” Bob said. “That’ll give me time to watch the end of this round.”

Jack looked at the TVs above the bar. He couldn’t mean the golf tournament? Who knew what time that would end? But it was that or … competitive cornhole?

“Only a couple more tosses,” Bob confirmed. “If this one pushes that bag in, they’ve got it.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jack said.

“Oh, come on, Jack, relax.” Bob said. “It’s fun. Sit down and tell me about your summer.”

“It’s been more Bitty’s summer than mine, with the shop and this new book he’s working on,” Jack said. “He’s been busy.”

“I remember those days,” Bob said. “When I’d finish the season so tired I didn’t know how I’d even haul myself upstairs to the bedroom, and by the time I was ready to face the world again, your mother would be on location on the other side of the world somewhere. I always wondered why our schedules couldn’t align.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Jack said.

“Of course not,” Bob said. “Any more than it was mine. Hockey season is hockey season, and filming schedules are filming schedules, and cute little shops on streets popular with tourists open during the summer.”

“No, I know,” Jack said. “I wasn’t complaining.”

He stopped at the look his father gave him.

“Okay, I was complaining, but not about Bitty,” Jack said. “Just the way things worked out this summer. I was thinking we could maybe have a party for my birthday this year --”

“You haven’t wanted a birthday party since you were eight!”

“Not a big party,” Jack said. “Just a few people. But Shitty’s in the middle of preparing for a big trial, and Lardo’s off being an artist in residence somewhere, and Tater’s not back yet. Bitty’s too busy to plan anything anyway, and no one would let me plan it.”

“Get it all out, son,” Bob said. “Before your mother and your husband get downstairs. Even if Bitty didn’t plan a party, he did plan this evening for you, and it doesn’t do to feel sorry for yourself on your birthday. Especially when you have someone who thinks the sun rises and sets on you like he does.”

“I know,” Jack said, then caught sight of the time on one of the TVs.

“Oh, no. We’re late for our reservation.”

“We’ll make it.”

“No, we’re late. Already. Maybe I should call them?”

He was picking up his phone when he saw Alicia, carrying a large shopping bag, and Bitty crossing the lobby from the elevator. Bitty was on the phone. Of course he had it handled.

Bitty did not have it handled.

He hadn’t said anything about the reservation to Jack on the way to Al Forno, just squeezed Jack’s hand on the console as they pulled away from the hotel.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight,” Bitty said.

They left the car with the restaurant valet and headed straight into trouble.

“Bittle-Zimmermann, party of four,” Bitty told the maitre d’. “We have reservations.”

The maitre d’ scanned his sheet, made a face, and looked up at Bitty.

“This reservation is for thirty minutes ago,” he said.

“I know,” Bitty said, “And I’m sorry we’re late.”

“Surely half an hour can’t be a problem,” Bob said, trying to shoulder his way into the conversation, folded bill just visible between his fingers. “We promise not to linger. It’s my son’s birthday.”

“Papa!” Jack hissed, tugging at his father’s sleeve like he was eight years old again. “Let Bitty handle it.”

“Yes, Bob,” Alicia said, drawing herself up to full height and looming over the desk. “My son-in-law, Eric Bittle-Zimmermann, has this under control.”

Jack took a moment to be pleased that his mother knew Eric’s name would have more clout than theirs in a restaurant.

“I’m sorry,” the maitre d’ said. “But we gave that table away not five minutes ago. We didn’t think you were going to show up.”

“We can wait for another table,” Bitty said.

“Not tonight,” the maitre d’ said, looking truly regretful. If Bitty had liked the dinner and mentioned it on his vlog, that would have been very good for the restaurant. “We have a large private party coming in. I’m afraid it won’t be possible.”

Bitty’s face fell and Jack’s heart clenched.

“It’s fine, bud,” Jack said. “We have the food for tomorrow at home. We can go make dinner, and then head to the store in the morning. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Bitty said. “It’s your birthday. I planned this dinner, and it’s my fault it got screwed up. Your mother wanted to show me your present and I got to rambling on … and why can’t I pay more attention? I’m sorry, Jack. I spoiled your birthday dinner.”

“Bitty, it’s okay, really,” Jack said.

“Perhaps next week?” the maitre d’ suggested.

“But then it won’t be Jack’s birthday anymore,” Bitty said.

“Perhaps the gentlemen would take a coupon for their next meal here?” the maitre d’ said. “For the inconvenience.”

“That’s not necessary,” Bitty said. “It was my fault.”

“I insist,” the maitre d’ said.

Jack took the offered envelope and slid it into his jacket pocket.

“Come on, Bits,” he said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

He ducked closer and whispered, “At least we can get out of the suits, eh?”

“Jack!” Bitty said, giggling through his frown. “Your parents are here!”

“Not what I meant, bud,” Jack said, but he grinned, because he’d gotten a laugh from Bitty.

“Need anything before we go home?” Jack asked while they waited for the car. “Or do you want to just pick up dinner on the way?”

“I think we have all the food we need,” Bitty said. “Maybe a bottle of champagne? Shoot, no, it’s just after six.”

“Just after six?” Bob said.

“Rhode Island law,” Jack said. “No packaged liquor after 6 p.m. on Sundays.”

“So unless you want to drop me at home to get started and drive to Attleboro, a champagne toast will have to wait for tomorrow,” Bitty said.

“We don’t need champagne,” Jack said. “Come on, let’s head home.”

Jack drove again, Bitty in the passenger seat next to him, his parents in the back. It was completely normal, and that thought struck him as odd. Here he was, 30 years old tomorrow, married to Eric Bittle, the love of his life. His parents loved Eric, too, and were here to celebrate with them, and in a few weeks he’d be getting ready for training camp for next season. He wished his 18-year-old self could have seen this future. It was better than anything he’d ever expected.

He would have liked to celebrate with Shitty and Lardo, Tater, maybe Marty and Gabby and Thirdy and Carrie, but this was good, too. Better than he had any right to expect.

He stopped at a red light and glanced at Bitty, who was also looking at him, a sly grin on his face.

“What?” Jack said. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s your birthday,” Bitty said.

“Not until tomorrow,” Jack said.

“You know what I mean.”

Jack took Bitty’s hand in the elevator when they got back to the building and held it for the whole ride up. He was still holding it when he got to the door and opened it.

He dropped it as the crowd shouted “Surprise!”

“What the --”

“Surprise, sweetpea,” Bitty said, reaching up to whisper to him. “You can still change out of your suit if you want.”

“Jackabelle!” Shitty was there to claim a hug. He wasn’t dressed in a suit, but he was dressed. Jack probably should thank Lardo for that. And there she was, hanging back, talking to Gabby.

So Marty was here somewhere -- by the pool table, talking to Tater while Snowy lined up a shot. Thirdy was in the corner, deep in conversation with Coach Bittle, and there were Suzanne and Carrie bringing more napkins in from the kitchen.

The island was covered with catering trays from … Al Forno, and Jack could see a maple-crusted apple pie among a selection on the kitchen counter. There was also a cake and some cake pops (for the kids? Were they here?) and it looked like someone (Shitty, probably) had been serving drinks from the bar. There was a bottle of champagne chilling.

Jack’s mother slipped past him to deposit the gift bag on the hall table with the other gifts.

“Happy birthday, Jacky,” she said. “When Bitty said our job was to help distract you, I wasn’t sure we could pull it off. I thought you might insist on leaving for the restaurant too early.”

“You were in on this?” Jack said.

“Everybody was,” Bitty said. “Even the maitre d’ at Al Forno.”

“But the gift certificate …”

“A gift from me to you,” Bitty said. “For when we can have dinner, just the two of us.”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of conversations and congratulations. Marty and Thirdy’s kids were there, hiding in the guest room, watching gamers play Animal Crossing on YouTube and coloring, but they came out to help blow out his candles.

“What about your trial coming up?” Jack asked Shitty. “And your residency?” he asked Lardo.

“Those are both real,” Lardo said. “But a funny thing about being an artist in residence: They don’t lock you in. And Shits needed a break for a little while.”

Coach Bittle looked tickled to be sharing a room with so many professional athletes, and Suzanne helped Bitty shuttle food and dishes in and out of the kitchen.

“Told you they’d want to celebrate your birthday,” Bitty said. “They flew in this morning and Shitty picked them up at the airport. They were waiting around the corner for us to leave.”

“You do like parties!” Tater boomed at Jack before leaving. “I knew it! But it took your husband to invite me.”

“That’s because it was a surprise, Tater,” Bitty said. “Jack didn’t know.”

Once everyone was gone -- not too late, because it was a Sunday -- Jack helped Bitty stow the leftovers and wash the dishes.

“How’d you know?” he asked Bitty.

“Know what, hon?”

“That I wanted a party,” Jack said. “A surprise party.”

“Jack, sweet pea, you’ve been moping around this house for weeks,” Bitty said. “All woe-is-me because your friends were busy this weekend. Of course you wanted a party. And you wouldn’t have tried to plan a surprise party for me unless you at least didn’t hate the idea.”

“How did you do such a good job planning it?” Jack said. “I really didn’t know.”

“You don’t have a suspicious mind?” Bitty said. ”Now come on. It’s nearly midnight. Let’s get to bed and you can have another birthday surprise.”

****

Jack groaned when he opened his eyes the next morning. It was late, later than he usually slept anyway. But he’d been up late the night before.

He could hear Bitty in the kitchen, opening drawers and moving plates and cookware around. Coffee was ready, probably.

He got up, dragged a T-shirt over his head and tugged on a pair of shorts, and wandered down the hall.

“Morning, bud,” Jack said.

“Jack, happy birthday!” Bitty said. “Breakfast’s almost ready, and I put all the cards and gifts from last night on the table.”

Jack worked his way through them, shaking his head at Shitty’s selection of boxer briefs emblazoned with the logos of female superheroes and grateful for the small painting from Lardo. There were restaurant gift certificates and a tie from Papa (“You always wear that old blue one!”) and reading glasses from Marty.

Then he opened his mother’s gift. It was a flat box, and it held a red leather leash and collar, along with a gift certificate for adoption fees from the animal shelter.

The enclosed note said, “I think this will be a good gift for both of you, but of course I’m not about to surprise you with a puppy. Take your time deciding which dog to adopt. In the meantime, know that there was also a $10,000 donation in your name to help support all the animals.”

“Bits,” Jack said. “Did you have any plans this morning?”

“Nothing in particular,” Bitty said. “Maybe see my parents at some point. D’you mind if they come for dinner?”

“Of course not,” Jack said. “But do you think we could go to the animal shelter?”

#jack zimmermann turns 30 #zimbits #omg check please #omgcheckplease #my fic

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Roach's stealth skills are put to the test as he sneaks past an alleged Augustus base to capture him and gather intel about the recent EMP based attacks. Will Roach be able to impress Captain Price?

Previous Chapter : Soap - Experiment 001

Chapter 9 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

"A SurPRICE Visit"

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141

400 meters outside Augustus' Mountain Base

Germany

The winds were picking up when they landed and Roach flew about a few more meters away from Price.

"This EMP blast is messing with my signals. Captain, can you find Roach?" Ghost spoke over comms, his voice crumbled over the static.

"He landed not too far from me. Come on boy, let's get a head on." Price replied to Ghost as he helped Gary get up and untangle himself from his mess. Gary nodded and followed his Captain into the edge of the mountain.

"There it is. Augustus' base." he mused as Gary scoped through his supressed silencer. Trucks were leaving the area filled with armed hostiles.

"Ghost, you see this? They're leaving the hive." Price informed the recon man.

"Aye, sir. Looks like they're headed to Alex's direction. If we time this right you'll have less people inside there." he replied. Gary wondered why they were leaving. It didn't make sense to back-up an already reclaimed base back at Alex's.

"Let's go Roach. I'll take the one on the left tower, you take the one on the right. I'm currently spotting four Tangos by the gate. Fire when ready." Price instructed. Roach took a deep breath to steady his sights, quickly pulling the trigger once the crosshairs aligned with their heads.

"Good kill. Your sniper skills are improving, Sargeant." Price mused as he signaled them to move forward. For a Captain who's left him a solid first impression as a strict angryman, Roach didn't expect the kind words from him. It almost felt overwhelming.

"You go ahead and take what's important inside that guardhouse. I'll cover you from this position." he commanded and Gary sprung safely into action, switching to his suppressed pistol and into the guardhouse.

It was simple, a few cameras, some photos of people who they let in and a few map layouts. Gary quickly snapped all of them for Ghost to see. Roach also grabbed the radio and placed it near his ear. Gary set his sights on an AK-47 lying on the ground.

"Roach, be careful when using unsuppressed weapons. It might reveal our existence." Price muttered to which he nodded. It just made sense.

"Jäeger, kopierst du?" the radio muttered. Roach's German wasn't on point and any non-reply from the other end would result in an investigation.

"Ja, alles klar." he replied, trying to replicate the accent. There was no more reply on the other side which meant Gary actually nailed his reply.

"Captain, behind that door is heavily guarded. I suggest a reroute to the back door just a few meters east of your position. This isn't Augustus' base, it's a remote research facility studying plant life by the border and he seemed to take it over." Ghost informed after gathering the photos, Gary waited on the edge of the wall covering his Captain's six. The duo proceeded as suggested and climbed over an unguarded fence.

"We're at a greenhouse. Labeled 6." Price whispered.

"Do you see any cameras?" Ghost asked.

"Yeah. Looking at the plants." he muttered.

"Circle around it and find cover behind the safehouse labeled 5. If my German is correct, the central area should have 2 scientists on their way in there." Ghost informed.

"Right on schedule." Price nodded to Roach as they both knocked them down quietly and non-lethally as they were civilians. Gary quickly slung his weapon and hid it behind the huge white lab coat the both of them now wore.

"Keep your weapons hidden, until I say so. Okay?" Price said as he pulled the bodies somewhere hidden. Gary nodded as they confidently waltzed inside the base, using their fake ids pinned on their coats for entry.

Gary watched a lot of sci-fi fics and most of them depicted labs as white walled, glass-divided rooms with hundreds of scientists working on some random machineries. Except here, it's plants. It seemed normal as if they infiltrated the wrong base. Price seemed to worry too, his steps were further apart and he seemed to be in a hurry. They were losing hope on a lead, until one armed guard, different from those outside started climbing up the stairs.

"Finally. Some good news." Price muttered as they made their way up the stairs.

"Authorized personnel only." an armed guard stood by the steps blocking the duos way. It was too crowded and too risky to engage him and press through and they both needed a new plan.

"Es tut mir leid." Gary replied as he pulled Price to the restrooms.

"It's no use. We can't go guns ablazing right here." he noted to his Captain.

"Bollocks." he cursed.

"We need a diversion." He added.

"Way ahead of you, Sir." Gary smirked and showed him his c4 trigger, pushed it and an explosion followed.

"Nice. By the guard house?" Price asked while they waited for reinforcements to assist the blast.

"Yeah."

"Quick thinking lad. I like that."

Several armed men came rushing down the stairs, yelling in a different language, all going to the exit. They stomped to the stairs and carefully breached the second floor of the building, shooting armed tangos using suppressed weapons. They had to act fast and stomp on their comms as soon as they're down so that the others outside will not fall back.

Ten guards were left behind to protect the second floor, and with the help of stealth, Gary and Price took them out smoothly. All that's left are the intel waiting to be harvested.

Gary snapped all possible evidence, every nook and cranny was investigated while Price tapped his heavy fingers on the keyboard.

"Looks like they're going large. They're planting something by the major cities cell towers. Here's one in Berlin." he muttered, printing a copy of the blueprints.

"Price! R-ch" Ghost's static crackled across their comms.

"Th- found- guards!

Get. Out. There. NOW." he added.

"Kill every civilian in there. That will let our little friends out of the shadows. I know they're after us…" a menacing voice said over Roach's stolen receiver.

"Shite. They're killing civvies." Gary said, worried.

"I'm sorry Roach. But we can't save them. It's a trap. Now protect that camera and let's get the fuck out of here." Price consoled as they continued pressing on toward the exit.

Screaming people followed by gunshots echoed across the white halls of the research facility, Gary didn't want to look back, Gary didn't want to hear any more screaming but it was all around him. Whoever commanded this act to be done must be eradicated from this world.

LOCAL MILITIA SETTLEMENT

Alex greeted the duo as soon as they stepped inside the village. It felt lively as everyone was celebrating their victory.

"Captain." Alex nodded and Price returned the gesture with a handshake.

"This is Blitz. Their leader." he added, introducing the man to Price.

"Thank you for helping us." Price acknowledged.

"No. Thank you for helping us. You have good men fighting for a good cause." he remarked, nodding at Alex and Gary. Gary also got acquainted with the leader, exchanged a few words and got offered soup.

"Tough day, huh?" Alex nudged over Gary, who's still sad about the situation earlier.

"You and me, both." Gary muttered as Alex patted his shoulder.

"We'll get him soon enough, Roach. Justice will be served." Alex consoled as Gary took a deep sigh.

"They're planting EMP bombs on major cell towers. Maybe incorporating it with them to perform large scale blasts." Gary pondered, taking a sip off the delicious soup.

"Yeah. That's our go signal. It's now a terror activity. Imagine a day without communication. International trade would crumble." Alex explained to which Gary nodded in agreement.

"Global cripple. People's minds get hurt, Economy gets hurt and we aren't focused enough to defend ourselves."

"That's what he's up to." Gary finished.

"And we have to stop it. Whatever It Takes." Alex looked at Gary with determination, that kind of pep talk that makes him a little less sad.

"Yeah." Gary agreed.

Another briefing, but this time, it was going somewhere. Operation Burn, the task is to eliminate Nero and all his allies, if possible. Funny enough, the real Nero burned everyone else. Whoever thought of this name was smart enough to connect the dots.

There's another person added to the team, the redhead leather jacket agent, Alexandra Ryder. An interpol agent tasked to destroy all traces of said EMP machinery. She looks tough, acts tough and basically is tough. France seemed to be going along well with her. That's a bonus for alliances such as these.

"So, I heard Price noted your sniper improvement." Ghost nudged.

"Yeah. Thanks Simon. Your training sucks but it helped a lot." Gary complimented.

"Tried talking to France and the new girl today." Ghost reported. Gary turned to him, clearly interested about his story.

"It was actually good. They're both intimidated by the mask and that's why they can't initiate conversation with me. But the talk went pretty well so I guess you needed to update your scoreboard or something." He muttered.

Gary chuckled. "That's one step towards her."

"I'll let the Interpol handle Berlin. Since it involves just the weapon, as for other news. I think it's time to transfer our two hostages back to the USA." Gary quickly turned his head back to the screen. No. It can't be. He had to stop this decision.

"With all due respect sir. I do not agree with this!" Gary stood up and all eyes were on him. He's still concerned about the welfare of the two plus he didn't want Maxine to leave. Not yet.

"I've read the report on their case sir. And it's not that I don't trust the system there but what if there's still another one in there with ties to Nero. He was able to slip by under our noses once or more times than that but let's consider the possibilities here." Gary explained as he looked around. Alex seemed to agree with him.

Shepherd let out a soft sigh.

"We'll discuss this possibility Sgt. Sanderson. You can sit down now." he said and resumed briefing.

"Brave move you did there, soldier." Ghost remarked as Gary let out a sigh. He wasn't sure on he's really concerned, the IP Address being extracted from Samantha or Maxine's smile that he will be missing if she left.

Next Chapter : The Heart Knows what the Brain doesn't

Notification Squad, my beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @whimsywispsblog @enderio @beemybee @ricinbach

#horRAYfic #whateverittakes #codmwfic #alex echo 3 1 #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #why is the next chapter pink?!

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

Text

Finally Home–Logan Thibault

Materlist

Logan's been gone for 3 years, 11 months, and 22 days. I tried not to keep track, but it was the only thing that helped me not think about the danger he could be in. Instead of focusing on it being another day that Logan was gone, I focused on it being another day he was alive.

I was sitting on our couch, working from home when Kasey, our german shepherd, ran up to me and jumped on my lap.

"Kasey," I sighed. "Mommy needs to finish this marketing report."

He whined as he laid his head on my keyboard. Logan and I got Kasey as a puppy right after we were married. It's been amazing having Kasey around since Logan left. With Kasey always being around, he helped distract from the loneliness. He even sleeps next to me so I don't have to focus on Logan not being here.

I ran my fingers through his fur as I tried to go back to my report. About an hour later, I couldn't handle being home anymore.

"Come on, baby," I sighed. "Let's go for a walk."

I giggled when that word made Kasey's ears perk up. He jumped off the couch and ran to the door where we kept his leash hanging. I stood up, slipped on my shoes, and followed him.

We went on our regular route of walking around the neighborhood. When we were almost back to the house, I noticed Kasey start to pull a little more.

"Kasey," I sighed. "I know Daddy usually takes you on runs, but Mommy. . ."

I gasped as Kasey's leash slipped out of my hand and he took off running down the street.

"Kasey!!"

I instantly started chasing after him around the corner. I froze as I watched Kasey run towards someone. My heart jumped into my throat when I noticed who he was running to.

"Logan?"

He looked up when he heard me say his name. I could see his smile from all the way down the street. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I ran over to him. He laughed and met me halfway, catching me as I jumped into his arms.

He wrapped his arms tightly around me as he picked me up and spun me around. When he put me back on my feet, I didn't let go of him.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I held my husband that I haven't seen in almost four years as close to my chest as I could. 18 months after we got married, Logan was drafted and sent out on assignment. The last time I saw Logan, I was dropping him off at an airport, not knowing when or if I would ever see him again.

I slowly let go of him, leaning out of the hug, and stared into the eyes I love and haven't seen in almost four years. I grabbed his face and brought his lips down to mine. I felt him smile as he started to kiss me back. The tears continued to stream down my cheeks as our lips moved in sync.

When I finally broke the kiss, I leaned my forehead against his. Neither one of us said anything as we caught our breaths. I leaned back, studying him through my watery eyes.

"Is this real?" I asked under my breath. "Are you really back? Are you really home? Or am I dreaming again?"

Logan chuckled as he tightened his arms around my waist. "It's real. I'm home, baby."

"Like home home?"

He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I sighed as our lips immediately started moving in sync. Logan broke the kiss and smiled down at me.

"Home home," he chuckled. I let out a relieved chuckle as I cupped his face in my hands.

"I've missed you so much, baby," I whispered. "Four years is way too damn long. Ever since you left. . . I was so scared. . . Every time the phone rang. . . I thought. . . I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well," he smiled, "I'm back, babe. For good."

"For good?" I repeated.

"For good," he nodded, slightly laughing. "I am never leaving you again, Y/N. I love you."

"I love you too."

We were about to lean in for another kiss but laughed when Kasey wanted in on our hug.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one who missed you," I laughed as we finally broke apart. I crossed my arms over my chest and as Logan knelt down to pet Kasey. I watched with tears in my eyes as Kasey excitedly licked Logan's face.

I studied my husband, instantly noticing the weight on his shoulders. I knelt down next to him and cupped his cheek in my hand, making him look at me.

"I love you, Logan," I whispered.

"I love you too," he chuckled.

Even though he was smiling, I could tell that a lot was weighing down on him. I grabbed his hand and made him stand up. I quickly grabbed Kasey's leash as Logan grabbed his duffle bag. Hand-in-hand we walked down the street towards our house.

I laughed when Logan stopped and just stared at our house. My smile fell when I saw the look on his face.

"Everything okay, baby?"

Logan looked over at me, his smile returning. "I'm great, babe. I'm home. I'm back with you. Nothing could be better."

He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. I grabbed his face before he could pull away and deepened the kiss. I broke the kiss and stared into his eyes. I debated about saying something but decided against it at the last minute.

"Come on," I said instead. "Let's go inside."

When we walked in the door, Logan immediately dropped his pack. "Sorry," he chuckled. "I'll take that upstairs later. Right now, I want to. . ."

"Right now you need to take your wife upstairs," I laughed before grabbing his face and pressing his lips to mine.

Logan chuckled against my lips as he immediately deepened the kiss. Our lips moved in sync as I wrapped my arms around his neck and Logan wrapped his arms around my waist. I let out a soft moan as Logan pulled me tightly into his chest and pressed me up against the wall. He broke the kiss, both of us catching our breath as he stared intently into my eyes.

"You okay?" I whispered.

I reached up and gently moved his hair away from his face, my hands lingering on his cheeks. He reached up and grabbed my wrists, not pulling my hands away from his face. Logan sighed as he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I missed you so much, Y/N," he said, his voice breaking. "I can't. . . I don't think I can ever leave you again."

"Then don't."

* * * * *

I laid my head on Logan's bare chest, listening to his heart rate slowly return to normal. The entire time we were making love, Logan seemed different. It was the first time in almost four years, but I could tell something was on his mind.

I gently rubbed his chest, debating about talking to him. It was clear he was thinking about whatever happened over there, but I didn't want to pressure him into opening up to me before he was ready. Memories of my grandfather and his PTSD popped into my mind, making my heart drop.

I sat up on my elbow, grabbing the blanket and covering my chest. "You okay?" Logan asked.

I looked over at him as I nervously bit my bottom lip. "Do you remember my Grandpa Peter?"

"Yeah," he said slowly as he sat up.

I sighed before sitting up and turning towards him. I smiled as he leaned down and handed me his shirt. I slipped it over my head as I gathered the courage to talk to him about this.

"Well, I've been thinking. . . And maybe this is none of my business. Maybe. . . Maybe we should forget it, get dressed, and go to dinner."

"Y/N," Logan cut me off as he grabbed my hand, stopping me from getting out of bed. He reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "It's alright, baby. Just say whatever is on your mind."

I looked up at him, studying his eyes. "Well, he had really bad PTSD after he came home from war. My grandma said he was never the same man. She once told me that she wished he had opened up to her about what he went through and maybe it would've helped him get past it. Not that they were having marriage problems because of his PTSD but. . ."

"Y/N," Logan cut me off again. "What's going on?"

"You're different," I blurted out. "I just mean. . . I'm sorry, baby, but I can tell that something is weighing you down. You're smiling, but you're eyes are saying something different. I don't want to pressure you, but I want to help you. You're my husband and I love you. I just want to make sure you know that I love you and I'm always here for you. I don't want you to feel like you're on your own or like I won't understand. I will! My brother is in the marines, my dad was in the air force, my grandpa was in World War II. Even my great grandfather went to war. Every man in my family has enlisted or gone to war and I don't want you thinking I don't understand. I do, baby. Or at least, I could try. I mean, I could listen and. . ."

Logan cut me off by leaning over, cupping my cheek as he pressed his lips to mine. As our lips moved in sync, I felt a tear slide down his cheek. I broke the kiss, my eyes watering as I saw the tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "The things I saw. . . I didn't want to burden you. I wanted to keep you as far away from that world as possible. It was terrible. . . The things I saw. . . You're too good for all of that."

"Hey," I sighed. "I'm your wife, Logan. When we got married, we agreed to take each other's burdens as our own. Which means my problems are yours and your problems are mine. I will be here to help you through every PTSD moment, anxiety attack, nightmare, sleepless night, and anything else that comes our way."

"But. . ." He stuttered.

"But nothing," I cut him off. "I love you, Logan."

"I love you too, Y/N," he sighed. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. I felt him genuinely smile as our lips moved in sync. I giggled against his lips as he laid us back down without breaking the kiss.

Logan slowly pulled out of the kiss, staring down at me. He sighed as he reached down and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"I've missed you so much, baby," he whispered.

"I've missed you too."

#logan thibault #logan thibault imagine #logan thibault x reader #the lucky one #zac efron #zac efron imagines

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shirleykarasuma · 3 years

Text

Hello my friends,

So my previous post was a little teaser for todays topic. If you have not already guessed it, we're talking about videogames today! \°3°/

I don't how familiar you are with Detective Conan videogames? I assume most of you know that that's a thing. Owo

Edit: OK, so I was just told today by some people that they didn't know, that there are Detective Conan videogames. owO

Well, that's not a problem! I'm here to tell you a little bit ab out it. ૮₍｡´• ˕ •`｡₎ა

So In general there have been mad a lot of Detective Conan videogames over the past.

Consoles including:

Nintendo~

Gameboy

Gameboy Color

Gamboy Advance

3DS

Wii

Switch

Sony PlayStation~

PlayStation 1

PlayStation Portable

And other Consoles and Computers that are Japan exclusive.

Since Detective Conan has been popular with young kids in Japan, most of these are games were made to appeal to this type of audience.

Most games, not all of them. ( ﾟ∀ﾟ)

So now lets look at my small collection of Detective Conan videogames. °^°

I'm sorry of this will become a long post, but there is just too much to talk about. ^^°

These are all my Nintendo games:

Gameboy Advance~

"Detective Conan - Targeted Detective" is my newest game and I actually have the guide book along with it.

It has a nice story mode with multiple cases happening around well known Conan characters and some arcarde games.

I'm around 3/4 through the game and it got me hoocked at the first chapter. (⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷ ⌑ ᵒ̴̶̷⸝⸝⸝)

The best part about old Conan games are, you can just buy them and put them into your Gameboy. They don't have a region protection. I've tried it and it really works. ⭕ (⌐■ω■)✧

DS~

"Detective Conan - Detective Trainer" is a nice game that's based on multiple arcade style games that are supposed to train you and let you become a great detective.

Because of it's overall concept it has a repetitive gameplay. Even though this game couln't hook me for a longer time, I found it still very fun and enjoyable. (ง˘ω˘)ว

"Detective Conan - The prelude of time" is a game that works more in the style of solving multiple cases. It has a nice story mode with multiple cases and well known characters. Alongside the story mode, two seperate arcade games and a extra jigsaw puzzle game there is also a Quiz game within the game where you can test your knowledge about Detective Conan. Yes, there is a lot to play. (๑°o°๑)

This game is absolutely amazing. I've played it multiple times and it's really really cool. > 3 <💖

Also this game was the only one that was released for PlayStation Portable.

Within the Japanese fandom it is known as one of the best Conan games to be ever made.

DS games also have no Region protection, meaning you can just buy them from Japan and play them on your DS. ⭕ (⌐■ω■)✧

3DS~

"Detective Conan - Marionette Symphony" is my only 3DS game. However I can't play it, because I don't own a Japanese 3DS. Unfortunately 3DS games have a region protection so you can't play it on any other device than a japanese 3DS. ❌

I am still very hyped. \°^°/🎉

I want to play this so bad. TwT

Wii~

The "Detective Conan - The Mirapolis investigation" is a game that's apparently is not in Japanese? Well that is because this game had more or less a international release. So I've got the German version of it. ^^°

Also this game is the first Detective Conan game in 3D.

I've played this game multiple times and it's actually not really that great compared to other Detective Conan games. The whole story mode can be completed in around one hour and that is actually short for a Conan game. TwT

The reason why I played this so often though, was just to turn on the cool music feature so I could listen to nice Detective Conan Soundtracks. Over all It's not a bad game, for me it's just not the best Detective Conan game out there. ≧▽≦

Switch~

Special appearance here for "Detective Conan - Skateboard Run - Kaitou Kid and the mysterious treasure" cause this game for Switch is only available as a digital download from the Japanese Nintendo E-Shop.

This game is essentially just a arcarde style 3D runner game. All over all it feels more like a ported version of a mobile game, but it's pretty fun to play. /°^°\

These are all my Sony Playstation games:

PlayStation 1~

As for the PlayStation 1 videogames i own "Detective Conan 3 Peoples Detective Novel", "Detective Conan" and "Detective Conan Trick Trick vol. 1"

I haven't played the games yet, just because I don't own the original console. I know you can emulate them, but my goal is to play every game on their original console. ૮₍｡´• ˕ •`｡₎ა

Since these are games on a disc you need to have the Japanese console to play them. CD are written differently for each region and that's why a foreign model of a console that uses dics can not read discs from Japan.❌

These are all my computer games:

"Toku-uchi Heroes Detective Conan collection" is collection of "educational games", meanig it's more a educational software than a real game.

These little funny games are supposed to teach kids how to use a computer and how to type on a keyboard. Just to clarify, typing on a Japanese keyboard is not the easiest thing to do and even adults struggle with that. This why there are softwares like these on the Japanese market. (๑º口º๑)

To use this software, you need to have a Japanese computer. I have bought a Japanese laptop for that and it works just fine. ⭕ (｡•ᴗ-)

As far as I know there are also other educational Conan games on the market. I will have a look out for that in the future. °^°

So that's about every Detective Conan videogame I own. If I have an update I will post it here. Also if you want to see some gameplays you can search for them on YouTube or NicoNicoDouga. °v°👍

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etlunainmorte · 3 years

Text

***

Day 24 - Name

***

V knew hanging out with Patty would turn his world upside down.

Well, fortunately for the teenager, V was a very patient man.

He just didn't know how to react when, one day, Patty decided to make a social media account for him.

To be fair, he was the one who asked the help of the teen with his new gadget, since he couldn't disturb Nero or Kyrie, and Nico told him she's too busy making a new weapon to be tested out next month. He knew Dante would know next to nothing about computers, and Vergil would just go about poking the sleek, black thing aimlessly while reading the manual over and over again, just like him.

Simply put, he has no other choice but to turn to the Poker Queen for help. And V could safely say that his laptop was in the right hands, albeit feeling a bit culture - shocked with the things he has learned so far with technology.

And now, the chit actually wanted to make a social media account for him.

"I'm very certain I have no use for it." The poet insisted for the third time that day.

"Oh, believe me! You'll find this very useful someday." The teen ignored V's words as she tapped and tinkered on the poet's brand new laptop like she owned the thing. "Besides, how would you buy yourself some ebooks if you don't even have an email?"

"I prefer my old physical copies, thank you very much."

"And how would you get yourself a girlfriend if you don't even have a messaging app?"

"I'm sure I'm not looking for a girlfriend as of the moment,... "

And to this, Patty just dramatically rolled her eyes. "You'll see what I mean when you finally have your very own social media account, boomer."

"Sorry?"

"Nothing,... " the girl playfully sang as the screen of his laptop showed a login screen of a website called, Boogle. There were many blank spaces to be answered, and the bright colors of the screen were already making the poet's eyes hurt.

"What is your full name?" Patty asked a few moments later.

V was a bit confused. He never really have a name to call his own, save for the one alias he’s always using.

"Well, I - " V slightly stammered, at once feeling a little bit lost. "I' am,... not exactly Vergil."

"Of course, you aren't." Patty answered with much sarcasm.

Maybe, it really is the time to create my very own name,...

The poet's gaze wandered about the living room, looking for a clue, anything, that would give him a proper idea for the perfect name. He looked at his books, gazed at the few little paintings hanging on the wall, he even looked at the various magazines stacked on the table next to the laptop.

And still, he couldn't think of anything. His mind was completely blank.

I'm not prepared for this,...

"Well,... ?" The girl asked, still waiting for his answer, her fingers ready to tap on the keyboard. "Should I put,... Vincent?"

"No."

"Hmm, what about Victor?" Patty said, her lips forming a huge O in awe. "Oh! You could be Victor Blake! I'm pretty sure it suits you."

"It sounds,... too tragic." The poet answered, an image of himself as an impoverished but talented Victorian era poet suddenly popping in his head.

"Oh! I know! Valerio Borges sounds like a romantic name!" And clearly, Patty was watching too much television,...

"I'm sure it does but,... it doesn't suit me." V answered with a smirk.

"Hohoho, Valerio,... heehee!" Griffon, who was listening in on their conversation the entire time, laughed and snickered, mocking V.

Ignoring Griffon's taunts, V went back to the important task at hand,...

... until he found something on the bright screen of his laptop.

"That." V spoke, pointing at something at the lower right corner of the screen.

"Huh? Ahh, that's just an ad, V." Patty answered. And it was! A simple and minimalistic - looking ad featuring online language classes, including Latin, Chinese, German and various other languages.

"Interesting." V whispered, his eyes still on the ad, mesmerized by the English words that suddenly dissolved like ash and turned into their foreign language counterparts.

Then, all of a sudden, he saw the word.

Life

There,... it clicked.

Vitale

He carefully pronounced the word. "Vitale.

Patty hummed, then typed the name.

Vitale Sparda

"It's,... actually really nice." Patty said with a nod of approval.

"It is." V answered with a content smile.

***

#vitale #patty #griffon #devil may cry 5 #365 days of v: your daily dose of vitamin v #day 24 #name

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blushingbarnes · 4 years

Text

seven types of love (3)

Series summary: There are seven different types of love, and over the course of knowing you, Bucky experiences every single one.

warnings: boyfriends being toxic and verbally abusive. slow burn

~series masterlist~

~agape- a universal type of love~

You look at the cup, then back at your phone, back to the cup, and back to the phone.

It had been 20 minutes since you’d gotten home, and you’d been debating texting the number ever since.

It wasn’t an unusual thing for a friend to give you their number, right? But then again, Bucky wasn’t exactly a normal friend.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, and pick up your phone. You type the number into your phone, and hover your fingers over the keyboard.

You should be teasing right? Make a joke? You haven’t started a new text conversation in ages.

Wait, why are you thinking about this so much? It doesn’t matter, it’s not like you’re trying to flirt with him.

You decide to start with “You couldn’t have thought of a better joke?” Simple, and he would probably understand that it was you.

After sending the text, you created a contact. You saved the name as ‘B’. That way, Will wouldn’t freak out that you had Bucky’s number.

You check the time, it’s about 3:15. You decided to put a show on in the background while you wrote some notes for some of your upcoming sessions.

You put on Criminal Minds, and began to work.

About 15 minutes later, your phone dinged. You checked it, and read the message.

“I only had about 30 seconds to write the message sweetheart, I couldn’t think of a better one.” The message read. You laughed to yourself, and wrote something back.

“So are you sneaking your phone at work, or are you off now?” You asked, and set your phone down.

You attempt to get back to work, but soon realize that you can’t. Your mind was clouded, and you kept on checking your phone.

You hadn’t felt this way since high school, checking your phone obsessively to talk to a boy.

You chalked it up to just being excited to have a new friend. Recently, work has been eating you alive, and you haven't had much time for anything else.

Reminded that you haven’t had time to do anything else, you go to your fridge to see if you need to stock up on any essentials. As you are making a mental list, you hear your phone ding again.

You move embarrassingly fast back to the living room to check your phone.

Yet it’s not a text from Bucky, but from Will.

“Wanna hang out later” The text reads.

“Of course” You reply, locking your phone. Almost as soon as you do that, your phone screen turns on again, this time from two texts.

“Ok cool i’ll pick you up in like an hour” Will’s text reads. You reply with a simple okay.

Bucky’s text says ‘I’m sorry for the late response. I was driving home from work, so i guess that answers your question ;)’ This is followed up by another text. ‘Besides, how could i make all of the fancy drinks at the shop if i’m distracted by my phone?’

You smile as you text back, ‘That’s definitely true, the latte art you do is too pretty for you to be distracted.’

You see the typing icon almost as soon as you send the text. You can’t help but think that Bucky is also sitting there, with his phone open on the messages, expecting your text.

“What can I say doll, I’m the best of the best :P” Bucky types. “What are you up to this evening?”

“Just hanging out with Will, you?” After you send that message, you head to your bathroom to begin fixing your hair to see Will.

Your phone lights up beside you on your bathroom counter.

“Just a night in for me, might be with my buddy Sam.” Bucky replies.

“Nice, I probably won’t reply for a while, Will is probably going to be here soon. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I can’t promise anything darling :)” Bucky says.

You set your phone down, and continue getting ready.

Later, you’re in the car with Will. You guys are just going to get a quick bite to eat before you hang out at the house.

“All I’m saying is that aliens don’t exist. We are definitely the highest thing that there is.” Will says, one hand on the steering wheel, and one gesturing.

“Well now you’re just being ignorant, there’s now way out of all the planets and solar systems that we are the only things out there. Even the only survivable planet!” You exclaim, throwing your hands down in a fit.

“Nevermind, I’m not starting a fight over a stupid thing.” Will says, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense for you to-”

“Shut up!” Will almost yells. “Goddamn, I say nevermind and you just keep going on.” He sighs.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” You say, standing your ground.

“Whatever, we’re going home.” Will says, switching lanes to turn around to go back to your house.

You sit in disbelief, and turn your head towards your window. You begin to pick at your fingernails, a nervous habit that you had picked up during childhood.

Will pulls up at your apartment building. “So.” He says, and looks at you in an expectant manner.

“What?” You ask, eyes wide with confusion.

“Are you ready to apologize?” Will asks, with clear arrogance on his face.

“What on earth would I have to apologize for?” You exclaim, in probably a too harsh tone of voice.

“I don’t know, maybe for calling me ignorant?” Will says, crossing his arms.

“I’m not apologizing.” You say, and pick up your bag, and begin to get out of the car. You halt for a moment, and slump slightly back into your seat.

“I love you.” You say, looking towards him.

“Love you too.” Will says, and looks out the window.

You sigh, and get out of the car to walk to your apartment.

You throw your keys onto the table, and head to your room. You flop down face-first onto the bed.

You lay like this for a moment, then you turn your head, and pick up your phone.

You go to your message thread with Bucky.

“Would you like to hang out sometime?” You ask, and then immediately put your phone face down, not wanting to read the answer.

The reply takes a few minutes, but it comes.

“I thought you’d never ask, when are you free?” Bucky asks.

You let out a sigh of relief. You check your schedule for the next day. ‘Tomorrow after work? I’m pretty much free after 4.”

“Sounds good. I’ll pick you up and then we’ll see what to do from there?” Bucky suggests.

You agree, and give him your address.

Bucky smiles as he sets his phone down next to him on the couch. He glances back to whatever game Sam had wanted to watch this time.

“Are you talking to that girl who has a boyfriend?” Sam asks, looking over at Bucky.

“No.” Bucky scoffs, and Sam looks at him, knowing that Bucky is lying. “Okay, fine, yes.” Bucky admits.

“You’re gonna get ya’self killed man.” Sam says, laughing and shaking his head.

“We’re just friends.” Bucky says, a blush covering his cheeks.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Sam teases.

The next day, Bucky is quite literally counting down the seconds until he gets off work. He makes the drinks faster, maybe in hope that that makes the day go by faster.

That is until you come in.

Peter switches, Bucky takes your order.

“Hot date tonight ma’am?” Bucky asks, taking in your appearance, but not necessarily in a creepy way.

“You wish Barnes.” You laugh. “Can I get a vanilla latte?” You ask.

“Of course darling, I’ll pick you up around 6, okay?” Bucky confirms.

“Sounds good.” You smile, and begin to take out your wallet.

“Don’t worry, it’s on me.” Bucky smiles.

“Oh, thank you.” You seem a bit flustered, but accept.

When you get your drink and are about to walk out of the shop, you wave to Bucky.

“See ya later doll!” Bucky waves.

“Did you finally get a date with that girl?” Peter asks him. Bucky looks at him with a glare. “Nah kid, she’s got a boyfriend. We’re just friends”

Peter rolls his eyes, “Okay…” Peter says, his voice laced with disbelief. Bucky hits him lightly.

Hours later, Bucky pulls into your apartment parking lot.

He texts you “I’m here :)” and waits patiently in his car.

Then, he sees you. Most of the other times he’s seen you, you are coming to or from work. He doesn’t get to see your casual wear too often.

But he loves it, the black jeans and blue graphic tee that you’re sporting.

He is torn from his thoughts when you open the door. “Hey Bucky!” You smile as you get into the car.

“Hey Y/n.” Bucky softly smiles.

“So, where are we going?” You ask as you buckle your seatbelt.

“I was thinking, there’s a little strip that I know of with a bunch of cool shops and restaurants, so we can sort of pick around there?” Bucky says, hope in his eyes.

“Sounds good.” You say, smiling.

In the car, Bucky asks for more details about your job, claiming you know so much about his.

He notices the way that your eyes light up when you talk about it, he loves it.

Bucky parks a good amount away from where everything is as it nears dusk.

“Cmon, follow me.” Bucky says, unbuckling his seatbelt. He would’ve opened your door, but you were already out of the car.

As you two are walking, you admire all of the cute boutiques and stores. Bucky notices that you’ve complimented many people, telling them you like their hair, and other things.

Bucky’s heart swells, and he thinks about how much you share your heart with the world, it makes him happy.

Bucky sees an ice cream store, and directs your attention to it. “Want to get ice cream?” Bucky’s points.

“Sure!” You say, and begin to walk towards the shop.

The bell rings as you enter, and Bucky sees your smile grow.

“I love the 50s!” You say, taking in the fact that the shop is 50s themed, with decor all around.

You walk up to the counter, and begin to order, “Can I get a medium german chocolate?” You say, smiling at the older man working the shop.

“Of course dear.” He smiles, and turns to Bucky.

“Just a medium cookie dough.” He smiles, and gets out his wallet. Bucky hands the man the card, and looks at you.

“You already paid for my coffee today, and now you gotta pay for my ice cream?” You ask, it being obvious that you’re fake offended.

“I‘ve gotta share the obvious wealth I have sweetie, us baristas make millions.” Bucky says, a smile on his face.

You playfully roll your eyes, and wait to receive your ice cream.

Once you do, you thank the man; and you and Bucky sit down on the chairs provided. You two get on the topic of Bucky’s younger sister, Rebecca, and all of the antics she used to pull. You bond over how your younger sibling used to do similar things.

Once you’re finished, you throw away your container, and walk out of the shop.

You’re drawn to the music that you can softly hear, and begin to walk towards it.

You reach the small amphitheater that the music is coming from. The small jazz band had their cases open, so you dropped a few ones in there.

You begin to sway to the soft music, and then turn to Bucky. “May I have this dance m’lady.” You ask, tipping an imaginary hat.

Bucky laughs, taking the hand you had outstretched. Bucky ends up taking the lead, because that’s what he’s used to.

He looks into your eyes as you dance, getting lost in them. He feels like he can see the rest of his life through your eyes.

He’s snapped out of the trance when you accidentally step on his feet. “Ahh, sorry, I’m not good at this.” You say, regret on your face.

“It’s okay, doll, I'll show you.” He says, and begins to show you the steps.

“There… you’re getting it.” Bucky smiles.

Bucky spins you, and when you turn back to Bucky, you’re awfully close.

You and Bucky’s foreheads are almost touching, and your eyes are locked.

Bucky’s head is racing, and he doesn’t know what to do. His eyes dart to your lips, and back to your eyes. He just wants to know what you’re thinking. He licks his lips almost on instinct.

You clear your throat, and Bucky steps away from you, clearing his throat as well.

“It’s getting late right?” He asks, checking the non-existent watch on his wrist.

“Yeah, it is.” You say, trying to hide your blush in the dim light.

“I’ll take you home, cmon.” Bucky says, letting you go in front of him.

Bucky tries to make conversation, but the rest of the way home is filled with awkward silence

***

send an ask if you’d like to be tagged

@nsfwsebbie @scarletnerd05 @fentybucky @vherriepie @blaizens @darlingtholland @rachel-rebellio @majesticavenger @lustfulholland @yknott81 @haikyuuea @captainamerica-is-bae

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #barista!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #one shot #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes headcanon

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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

Text

The Queens of London Part 6 - What Am I To Do With My Life?

Man, I wrote this at like... 1 AM and it shows, it really shows.

Hello everyone, welcome back! I know it’s been a while (2 weeks!) since I’ve posted another chapter for this fic, but I got really busy with a bunch of other stuff, so it kept getting pushed back. I know you guys are used to getting pampered with new fics coming out everyday, but I still have a lot of stuff to balance, and sometimes my longer fics get put on hold as I get things back on track. But not to worry, we’re here now, and I’m not abandoning this fic! I didn’t get to edit this chapter, so I’m going to post it unedited and I’ll go back through and edit it later today when I have time. I hope you enjoy this part and that it suffices for a 1 AM keyboard smash. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my body is on fire and yes that can be interpreted figuratively or literally.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Depression, feelings of worthlessness, self destructive thoughts

Kat was sitting on her couch, legs curled up to her chest and a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She was in her pajamas and her hair was a complete mess. Kat’s guitar was leaning against the wall, it’s chords unused and forgotten. After her failure with the queens, it had been impossible for Kat to find it in herself to get up and street perform during the day. She couldn’t go out and watch Jane walk by. She couldn’t perform knowing that she had let down the people who had been depending so heavily on her.

It should’ve been obvious to her this whole time. Kat knew from the start she wasn’t a queen, nor was she a lady. She was in way over her head, that much had always been clear. But after the party at Henry’s house, it was practically spelled out in glittering letters for Kat. She didn’t belong. Never had, never would. Plain and simple. So why should she try?

The depressive haze had taken over Kat’s body as she sat in a ball on the couch, her eyes blankly staring at the wall. She didn’t have a television, so all she could look at was the moldy walls that housed her. It was disgusting to her, the life she lived, but it was all she had. To believe, even for a second, that she could trade it for fancy suits and lavish parties…

Kat was naive to think anything would change. She knew better now. She knew that she couldn’t keep this charade up, and she certainly wasn’t cut out to be a queen. Not now, not ever.

The knock on the door wasn’t enough to shake Kat out of her blank staring. She didn’t answer it, choosing to stay silent and still. There was rustling on the other side of the door before the lock clicked and it opened up.

Walking into the room with a small bag, Anne frowned at Kat’s appearance. “Kat, why are you in your pajamas, we got a meeting tonight?”

Shrugging, Kat barely reacted to Anne’s question. She hummed something noncommittal and squeezed herself tighter into a ball. “Kat, come on,” Anne set the bag down and moved over to her cousin. “You can’t just wallow here for eternity.”

“Yes I can,” Kat mumbled before groaning and unfurling herself. “Just go away Anne.”

Sitting down on the couch, Anne flicked some lint off the crusty plush furtniture. “I’m not going to leave you here alone. Tell me what’s up?”

Dropping her eyes, Kat sighed. Without looking in Anne’s eyes, she answered, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Not believing it for a second, Anne moved closer to the teen. “Come on, I can tell that something’s up. You can tell me.” “Why?” Kat glared at her own hands defensively. “So you can make fun of me?”

“I won’t make fun of you,” Anne argued, almost putting her hand on Kat’s back but thinking better of it. “Promise. Cross my heart.”

Kat didn’t trust Anne’s words, but she spilled anyway. “I’m a failure. I let you and the others down. I haven’t belonged here since day one and I’ve only made things worse and harder for you all. I shouldn’t be here.”

Letting the words bounce off her, Anne huffed. “Come on now, that’s not true. We knew from the start it would be hard, none of this is your fault. And I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Anne paused dramatically before continuing, “None of us belong. None of us are really friends - except Cathy and Aragon, and each of our ladies. We’re all struggling Kat, not just you.”

Anne’s confession made Kat feel slightly better, but it was still overshadowed by her fear and doubt. “But at least you all have a reason, a motivation. Something important that you contribute. I’m nobody.”

“And yet you’re perfect,” Anne assured her. “When you watch a spy movie, does the government pick that famous billionaire or the naive looking ‘newbie’ to go undercover.”

Kat shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to see a spy movie.”

“Okay -” Anne reiterated, “What I’m trying to say is being ‘nobody’ is exactly what we need. You’re practically invincible if you can’t be tracked down. You’re special Kat, far more special than any of us.”

The words sunk into Kat’s skin, even though she tried to keep them out. Kat wanted to say that she was worthless, because it was easier to hate herself than to look into Anne’s eyes and believe her promises. “I’m going to quit.” The forcefulness of her statement surprised Kat herself, but she held firm. Even when Anne gave her a pleading face, Kat didn’t budge. “I’m going to tell them the truth and I’m going to quit.”

Scrambling for a reply, Anne stood up. “At least come to tonight's meeting. Sit through the meeting and make your decision by the end. If you still want to back out, then I won’t stop you. But please, at least think about staying?”

Kat nodded, although internally she had already made up her mind. There was no way she was going to let the queens convince her to stay. Standing up to go change out of her pajamas, Kat froze a few steps away from Anne. “What’s in the bag you brought?”

“Hmm?” Anne turned her head to the bag. “Oh, nothing much. Just some food I bought from Tescos for you.”

Biting her lip, Kat went into her room and grabbed a change of clothes. She muttered lowly enough that Anne couldn’t hear, “I don’t need your pity,” as she got ready.

The familiar table sent shivers up Kat’s spine as Aragon went over the recap of the failed party. Kat was drowning out the woman’s voice, her shoulders hunched in as she waited for it to end. It felt like all the women were staring at her, blaming her for what had happened. It was all too much, but Kat wouldn’t let herself break down in front of them. She would keep her Katherine Brandon facade for one more night, and then it would end.

“We’ve got some news,” Joan spoke up when Aragon was done. “Maria’s been spending some time creating a code, and she’s finally ready to share.”

Maria made her way to the head of the table and set her hands down. “Yesterday we only had a single earpiece for Cathy, but Maggie’s been making sure we get them for each and every one of you. It took some time, but I’ve figured out the best way we can interact with each other using these. It’s going to seem quite simple, but it’s actually extraordinary. You see, each of you are assigned a number, and with those numbers, we and your fellow queens can contact you.”

“Interesting,” Anna stuck out her bottom lip in appreciation.

Leaning forward, Jane asked, “So what are our numbers?”

“Very basic,” Maria explained, “Aragon is one.” The CEO nodded. “Anne is two.”

Blanching, Anne rocked in her seat. “Really, I’m second to Aragon?”

Narrowing her eyes, Maria shook her head. “It’s not a contest of who’s better. The numbers are a timeline. You’re all arranged in the order in which you met Henry.”

Freezing, Kat set her eyes on the table. She was being put in this pattern that didn’t even apply to her. She was going to mess it up in a matter of minutes when she revealed herself. Anne shot Kat a glance across the table, but the girl missed it. “Three, Jane Seymour.” There was no reaction on Jane’s face, but behind her eyes there was a flash of pain. Maria continued, “Four, Anna.” The German woman tipped an imaginary hat. “Five, Kat.”

Acting like she had expected it in the first place, Kat nodded not particularly caring about her number. She would be five for five minutes, and then it wouldn’t matter. “And Cathy, number six. Whenever we address you in code, it will be using these numbers,” Maria finished.

“Sounds good to me,” Cathy affirmed. “I think that’s the last thing we had planned for tonight. If anyone has anything else to share, please do.”

Nervously, Anne watched Kat. The teen was psyching herself up, preparing for her admittal. Opening her mouth, Kat’s opening words were drowned out by Anna’s much stronger voice. “Actually, I do.”

“Anna,” Bessie warned as if she knew what was about to happen.

Shutting her mouth, Kat let the other woman talk first. “I was delivering a suit to Henry this morning, checking up on him after the party. He had a terrible hangover and straight up told Bessie and me that he’s going to be stuck at his office from tomorrow night through the morning.”

Standing up as well, Aragon scratched her nails on the table. “Did he seem suspicious of you at all?”

“Not one bit,” Anna spoke proudly. “We’re safe, for now. It didn’t even seem like he remembered anything from last night, so Kat’s still in the perfect position to sneak in and get the evidence we need. We aren’t finished.”

Breath hitching, Kat watched her hands. Her cover wasn’t blown? She could still… she could still do her job? If there was any way she could make up for what she ruined… “I’m in,” Kat shot up out of her chair, making a split second decision.

Anne’s mouth opened in shock when she saw Kat’s determination return to her eyes. Kat wasn’t done yet. “That’s good, because we’ll need you now more than ever,” Anna addressed Kat.

“What exactly are you saying Anna?” Jane questioned.

Smirking, Anna cracked her knuckles. “I’m saying it’s time for some good old fashioned breaking and entering.”

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

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thedemidisaster @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom

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bae-science · 4 years

Note

⬤,#,ʃ

⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey

#: shaky hands

ʃ: fingers running through sweaty hair

Vanessa sleeps with her phone under her pillow, at first.

The default alert noise made by the Dexcom G6 sensor when detecting high blood sugar is the highest E note possible on an electric keyboard, chosen specifically to wake up the wearer even in REM so the high can be corrected. Vanessa would know. It’s the single most annoying fucking sound in the entire fucking world, and no matter how many times she’s heard it over the years, it never fails to pull her from a good night’s sleep to blearily stumble out of bed and stab herself at two in the fucking morning. The precise, ear-splitting pitch that automatically plays at full volume is the absolute bane of her fucking existence, and Newt better hurry his ass up and develop an artificially grown pancreas, or one of these nights, she’s gonna throw something. Other than her pen. And that’s usually on accident. Usually.

She didn’t get her hands on a CGM until she, Karla, and Hermann were bunking up together, and even then Hermann had turned the study into a bedroom, so she and Karla took the real ones. Waking someone else up during the night with an alarm was never a problem.

Then, of course, she and Karla began sleeping together (both in the sense that they shared a bed, and Vanessa was finally getting to top both of their brains out), and suddenly Vanessa had a whole other person’s night’s sleep to think about.

The solution ended up being to place her phone squarely under the center of her pillow, then sleep directly on it so any noises were only audible to her ears. She would hear the telltale beeping of a high or low alert, carefully extricate herself from the bed, and deal with the problem while steadfastly praying it didn’t wake Karla. She and Hermann had already dealt with enough issues sprung from her diabetes. What kind of a girlfriend would Vanessa be if she dragged Karla awake every time her blood sugar decided to ruin her beauty sleep?

It was already a small miracle Vanessa had somehow managed to get Karla as her butch. She wasn’t pushing her luck.

It’s of course the first one in years that dips into the forties that Karla wakes up for. Obviously.

Vanessa is living just her best possible life, braced against the kitchen counter with one eye screwed shut as she tries to steady her hand enough to measure out exactly 1/4 a cup of orange juice. She wants an entire bag of pretzels dipped in an entire tub of Nutella so badly she could cry. Or just a soft pretzel. Or salt and vinegar chips-- actual fucking potato chips, not french fries with British language disease. Although actually fries would do in a pinch.

She swallows hard and tries to get the numbers on the side of the measuring cup to swim into focus. This is not a productive line of thinking. Yes, Vanessa’s at like 45 right now, and yes it feels like she’s about to pass out and/or scream if she doesn’t clean out the backroom of a Dunkin’, or possibly a grain silo, but she’s still going to try and go back to sleep after this, and lying in bed unconscious with more than ten grams of uncovered carbs in her system is going to wake her right back up in two hours at 238. And that will just top this night with one helluva fucking cherry.

Vanessa remembers without a hint of fondness the lecture on insulin sensitivity she had been given by her endocrinologist back at sixteen. Oh, regular exercise makes a little hit you harder? Well you won’t believe what hiking through jungles and climbing through the ventilation systems of people who thought the Trail of Tears was a soft solution will do!

She fumbles for her phone and slides open the Dexcom app. There isn’t even a number anymore, just the word “LOW” in all caps. Vanessa does actually want to cry now. Her limbs feel like they’re made of melting jello, sweat pouring down her back in waves of heat. The inside of her chest feels like it’s shaking alongside every other part of her body, hands refusing to stay still long enough to make an accurate pour.

A bit of juice sloshes out of the bottle and onto the counter, and Vanessa winces at the thought of having to clean that up as well. A whore in church would offer her a fan right now.

The strange, cottony feeling in her ears muffles the footsteps from the doorway until a hand on her shoulder makes her jump. Or, at least, she would jump if the idea of any sort of movement were a remote possibility.

“Nessa, darling, are you alright?” Karla asks, her fingers cool and dry against Vanessa’s burning skin. Language, English or German, doesn’t feel doable right now, but she gives it a go.

“‘M good, jus’ low,” she says in what’s probably heavily slurred, but her tongue feels like it weighs a hundred pounds and her brain resembles the state that arrives only with six consecutive shots of tequila. She gives the measuring cup another squint and misses the rim by several inches. Fuck.

“Your blood sugar?” Karla guesses, voice pitched low and blessedly soft. Vanessa nods.

“We are not living, laughing, or loving tonight. I would kick so many fuckin’ babies square in the goddamn chest for an entire cylinder of cookie dough. I want a lobotomy.” These three sentences don’t make sense following each other, but Karla seems to understand anyway. She moves her hand to guide Vanessa’s into setting down the orange juice, then away.

“Please, love, let me; we’ll need a towel anyway at this rate.” She takes the carton, nodding and interrupting with, “One fourth a cup, I know,” when Vanessa begins to speak.

Karla hands her the cup and Vanessa gulps it down, coughing slightly as some of it gets caught in her throat. Her hands are still shaking as she lets it drop back onto the counter, but Karla encircles her arms around her and carefully helps her to the floor.

Without thinking twice, Vanessa leans her head on her shoulder, letting out a long, pinched breath through her mouth as Karla winds her fingers through her hair. Her nails, blunt and neat, scratch lightly at her scalp, the other arm tight around her shoulders, one hand splayed across her arm.

“I know it’s rather necessary, but I quite like it when you don’t wear a bonnet to bed,” Karla murmurs into the top of her curls. “It’s like your hair is perfect for short nails.”

“Hhng,” Vanessa manages, the sweat on her skin beginning to cool. She shivers and leans in closer to Karla’s warm, blissfully average body heat. The words force themselves out on instinct. “Sorry I woke you up. It’s s’posed to be quieter.”

Karla turns her head to look at her quizzically. “What do you mean? You were gone for almost twenty minutes, and the bed was cold, so I got worried. Your alarm’s never woken me before.”

“Well I sure hope so. I know it’s, like. Annoying.”

Vanessa feels something twist in her stomach, and even though she knows Karla of all people would never pity her, perhaps only succeeded by Hermann, this admission of her limitation’s existence still fills her with discomfort. It’s unspoken, but known just under the surface, like a persistent itch. Acknowledging the negatives of this-- that the prevailing ideas it’s “not a huge deal” and “thriving not despite but because” are utter fallacy and crafted lines-- feels like a betrayal of some sort. That she’s doing it all wrong.

“What’s annoying,” Karla says gently, “is waking up to a cold bed and my girlfriend stranded in the kitchen over 1/4 a cup of orange juice, when I could quite easily and willingly help her. Have you been doing all this yourself this whole time?”

Vanessa nods, tracing her bare toes back and forth across the faux-wooden flooring. “I mean. Yeah.”

“Oh, darling.” Karla pulls her closer. “Please, please don’t take this as patronizing, but you always could have asked. I know how unpleasant these things are for you, and if there’s anything I can do to make it easier, I want to know. I’d be quite a dreadful girlfriend if I didn’t.”

Vanessa turns her head further into Karla’s shoulder, breathing in the clean, ginger scent of her soap; the warm pillow-smell from a few hours of sleep. “You don’t, like, have to. Like I said, I’ve been doing it myself.”

“But you don’t have to. I’m here; I’m willing. More than that, actually-- if, or I suppose when, this happens again, I want to know so I can be there for you.” She brings a hand to Vanessa’s cheek and cups it, turning it up to look her square in the eyes. “Please, Vanessa?”

Vanessa can’t last two seconds against Karla’s huge, brown doe eyes. She gives a tiny sigh. “Okay. If you want to.”

“I do.”

“Then I want measuring cups with bigger numbers. You always leave your glasses on the bedside table.”

Karla ducks her head and chuckles into her hair. “Yes, yes, you’re right. Leave your phone next to them, then. Then we won’t forget.”

Vanessa doesn’t. She also doesn’t sleep with her phone under her pillow anymore. Bad for your sleep habits, actually. And, y’know. Karla asked her not to.

#tag meme #ask #anon #pacific rim #pac rim #karnessa #mine #Anonymous #ask meme

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