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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 6: End of the Rope

Chapter 5

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Claire was supposed to be looking at charts on the computer in front of her, and she would, of course, right after she finished checking her phone for any messages from Mrs. Lickett.

“Beauchamp!”

Fuck.

“That’s the third time I’ve caught you on your phone. You trying to get fired on your first day?”

Her supervisor, Doctor Moore, was the most Nurse Ratched type Claire had ever seen in real life: tyrannical and unforgiving. The only difference was the grating nasality of her thick Long Island accent. Claire opened her mouth to defend herself, for the third time, but Ratched cut her off.

“Plenty of other doctors have kids at home, Doctor Beauchamp. Do you see any of the rest of them with their heads buried in their phones like teenagers?”

Claire could feel the tips of her ears growing hot with rage, but she swallowed it down and answered as levelly as possible: “No, Doctor Moore.”

“Get going. Your team is waiting for you.”

Claire exhaled heavily as soon as the tight-faced woman bustled out of the room, clenching her teeth to avoid outwardly groaning.

“The Ratched already on your nerves?”

Claire practically jumped out of her skin. She turned in the swiveling chair to see a kind-faced black man about her age, perhaps a bit older, smiling at her. He was sitting at a computer as well, craning his neck around to look at her. His eyes were dark, but soft.

“Did you read my bloody mind?” Claire stammered, still slightly alarmed.

He gave a short, barking laugh. “Seems I did. Everyone calls her that. Not to her face, mind you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Claire’s eyes widened at the thought of doing so.

“I’m Joe, Joe Abernathy.” He stood and crossed the room to shake her hand.

“Claire Beauchamp,” Claire returned, taking his hand.

He chuckled as he returned his hand to his side.

“What?” Claire said, face scrunching in suspicion.

“Just thinking about you asking if I read your bloody mind,” he said, flashing his teeth in a wide grin. “I heard you were English, but to hear it is another thing.”

Claire rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress her own smile as she turned back to the computer to complete her given task.

“Kids at home, huh?” His tone was sympathetic, having heard Doctor Moore’s reaming out of Claire.

“Just one,” Claire said. “I’m quite aware there are other parents here,” she continued hotly, though her anger was not directed at the man standing before her. “But I’d like to know how many of them are single parents of a daughter with special needs.”

Joe nodded in quiet understanding. “That must be tough, leaving her all day.”

Claire nodded, fighting the urge to check her phone again. “I’ve never left her alone with a babysitter this long. When I was in school I was still married, so she wasn’t ever alone for too long even though her father was a professor. After the move and the new schedules…I’m just worried.” All the while, Claire kept her eyes on the screen, scanning over charts and making mental notes. “The woman’s a marvel; I wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t. I just can’t help it. She’s nonverbal, my daughter. Autism.”

“Ah.” Joe nodded. “Gotcha.”

“So I just keep waiting for a call that she’s having a meltdown and that even the all-knowing, licensed professional can’t calm her down because she can’t tell her what’s wrong.” Claire shook her head, sighing. “It’s silly, I know.”

“Nah, not at all.” Joe shrugged, keeping his tone casual, but his eyes still shone with sympathy.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload my whole life story on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get it. I’ve never personally known anyone with autism, but you see it come in and out of the hospital often enough. It’s scary as hell when there’s something wrong and they can’t tell you, even the verbal ones sometimes.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry more,” he said quickly. “I’m sure everything is just fine. All I’m saying is I get why you’re worried. And Ratched sure as hell doesn’t. I’d like to tell her to kiss my ass.”

Claire chuckled through her nose, taking note of one more thing on the computer before turning to smile up at him.

“Thanks, Doctor Abernathy.”

“Please, none of that in private.” He waved her off. “Just Joe when there are no patients.”

“Alright, then.” Claire logged off the computer and gathered her things. “Thanks, Joe.”

“No problem. Good luck out there, Lady Jane.”

She paused in the doorway. “What was that?”

He grinned. “One of the other residents called you that. Said your accent sounds like you just had tea with the queen.” He held up his hands, pantomiming holding a teacup and saucer, sticking his pinky out.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” Claire laughed, rolling her eyes as she wrenched the door open.

“Toodle-pip, my lady!” She heard him call behind her.

Christ, was she doomed to have nicknames thrown at her reminding her of her Englishness for all eternity?

Her heart warmed at the thought of that soft Scottish burr saying Sassenach, and more laughter bubbled in her chest at the thought of her newest title.

She supposed she didn’t mind.

——

Claire was dead on her feet by the time eight o’clock rolled around. She briefly glanced back at the hospital in her rear-view mirror as she pulled away, and despite how her head and feet throbbed, she was thrilled at the prospect of every day being like this one.

When she’d done her research on specialities back in the days before med school, she’d read of the unpredictability of Emergency Medicine, of never knowing what kinds of emergencies would burst through the doors at any given moment. The prospect had thrilled her then, and experiencing it first-hand now was even more thrilling. Today alone, she’d saved a man’s finger after a cooking knife incident, put a shoulder back in place, stopped a head wound from bleeding long enough to see the patient into a successful surgery, and saved a pregnant woman and the baby after trauma-induced labor from a car accident.

It was quite a heady feeling.

Despite the thrill, however, there was nothing Claire craved more than the sight of her little girl’s face, the sound of her happy humming to see that Mummy was home.

The whole day had gone by without a hitch, unless Mrs. Lickett was hiding something from her. The only updates she’d gotten were positive ones, prompted by Claire’s frantic “is everything ok??” texts.

Claire had washed up and changed out of her scrubs at the hospital so that she could spend whatever little time was left before Faith’s bedtime with her on the couch, and then she could fully shower and decompress once Faith was asleep.

Claire turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, but before she could take a single step into the living room, a little body was plastered against her legs, wrapping itself tightly around her.

“Hello, baby!” Claire cried out joyously as a buzz of humming filled her ears. “Oh, Mummy missed you so much!” She pried her daughter off her legs and scooped her into her arms, dropping her bag on the porch. Claire held her close, kissing her cheek.

Faith nuzzled her face into Claire’s, rubbing her mother’s cheeks as their foreheads rested together.

“Hello love,” Claire whispered, rocking her gently in the doorway. “I missed you, too, baby. Yes, hello.”

Claire gradually moved them into the apartment, kicking her bag inside and nudging the door shut with her knee.

“Hello, Mrs. Lickett,” Claire said, struggling to meet her eye around Faith’s pawing of her face.

The older woman was smiling warmly. “Hello, Miss Beauchamp.”

“Everything was alright today, then?”

“Sure was,” Mrs. Lickett said. “Faith was a very good girl, right Faith?”

“Is that right, lovie? Were you a good girl for Mrs. Lickett?” Claire shifted her onto one hip and bounced her, eliciting a few giggles. A glance at the telly told her that Finding Nemo was nearing its end; Mrs. Lickett had paused it upon Claire’s arrival.

“How was the first day at the hospital?” Mrs. Lickett said, gathering her things.

“It was…a lot. But good, very good.” Claire crashed on the couch with Faith, trying to settle her and failing. Faith very firmly insisted on remaining in Claire’s lap. “I did miss her very much, though. It’s been a while since I’ve been away from her for so long.” She wrapped her arms around her and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head.

“I understand. I could tell she missed you, too, but I kept her pretty busy.”

“I appreciate that.”

“We started some basic signs today,” Mrs. Lickett beamed. “Might be a while before it registers, but at least she knows now. The more you start using them around her, the better.”

“Right.” Claire nodded. “I’ve been watching those videos you sent me every night.”

“That’s good.”

Faith made a rather indignant noise, pointing toward the telly.

“Somebody wants to get back to her movie,” Mrs. Lickett said.

“Right.” Claire forced a smile. She wanted to stop her from leaving, to sit down at the table and spend the entire night talking about every minute of the entire day, every little accomplishment, everything Faith was learning. But she supposed if she wanted that much involvement, she’d be home with them herself instead of pursuing a career as a full-time physician.

Jesus, Beauchamp. You sound like Frank.

Shuddering at the thought, Claire adjusted Faith so she could watch Mrs. Lickett go. “I’d see you out, but I’m a bit pinned down at the moment.” She gestured with her head to Faith, sitting in her lap and locking her grip on Claire’s arms around her.

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Say goodnight, Faith,” Claire said, releasing an arm so she could wave to the woman. Faith mimicked her, waving emphatically as Mrs. Lickett shut the door behind her. The second she was gone, Faith groaned again at the telly, and Claire smiled.

“Alright, be patient.” Claire reached for the remote on the coffee table. “I’m quite eager to see if Nemo escapes to the ocean, as well.”

Claire, of course, had the movie memorized, along with the rest of the DVDs in their vast collection. Perhaps it was Faith rubbing off on her, but she didn’t think she’d ever tire of watching them over and over again, especially not if it meant she would always get to spend this time cradling her little girl.

When the movie ended about fifteen minutes later, Faith slipped out of Claire’s lap and waited expectantly by the DVD player. Normally, Faith liked to listen to the music during the ending credits, so Claire didn’t make any moves to take the disc out yet. Only when Faith grunted and started tugging on Claire’s hand did she get the message.

“No music tonight, darling?” she said, puzzled, as she removed the disc and handed the box to Faith to file away. She was buzzing with excitement. Something was up, and Claire was none the wiser. The very second the DVD was away, Faith bolted into her bedroom, leaving Claire bewildered. She’d only just started to get up when Faith returned, holding a pile of colorful paper in her hands.

“What’s this, now?” Claire’s face lit up at the sight of Faith’s toothy grin, holding up the construction paper. Claire could see they were cut into the shape of little fish, and they were plastered with glitter, pompoms, google-eyes, and marker.

“Did you make these, Faith? Did you make these little fishies?” Faith hummed loudly and jumped up and down. “Oh, they’re marvelous, darling! You’re quite the little artist!”

Claire perused every single colorful fish, and she made a note to thank Mrs. Lickett. Arts and crafts were something Claire had never been into as a child herself, and something she didn’t have the time or the creative mind to think of. It was obvious now that Faith adored creating, and Claire wanted to smack herself upside the head for not thinking of it sooner. God bless that Mrs. Lickett.

“No wonder we watched Nemo tonight, hm? Are these Nemo’s little friends, then?” Claire held up a bright pink paper fish and swam it around in the air, much to Faith’s delight. Faith joined in the little game, and though Claire knew that bedtime was rapidly approaching — for both of them — she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

After a few minutes, Claire led Faith into the kitchen so they could use magnets to put the fish on the fridge. Claire let her arrange them to her heart’s content, only leading her into the bathroom when she was satisfied.

Teeth brushed, pajamas donned, Faith tucked in, and nightlight on, Claire finally allowed herself to fully feel the exhaustion of her day. The adrenaline of seeing Faith had kept her wide awake on the drive home, and then actually being with her had chased away any thoughts of sleepiness. Now, she barely had the energy to prepare a shower, and she very well almost crashed into bed, fully dressed. It was sheer willpower that finally got her back into the bathroom. This reminded her that tomorrow was bath night for Faith, and she sent up a brief prayer that she would cooperate for Mrs. Lickett. She’d considered waiting until she got home and just taking her into the shower with her, but that would have interrupted the movie, and God forbid that should happen. But if she’d waited until the movie was over, it would have been too late, and the routine would be disrupted. No, it had to be Mrs. Lickett.

Washed and dressed for bed, Claire was wide awake, despite how weariness was etched into every muscle and bone in her body. She could not stop thinking about all of the silly little things that could go wrong while she was occupied at the hospital, of all the possible triggers for a meltdown that she would not be able to stop. No matter how well today had gone, no matter how wonderful Mrs. Lickett was, she’d never stop worrying. Maybe not never, but it would certainly be a long time. At some point in her fevered, internal ramblings, Claire teetered into oblivion, grateful for whatever sleep she was lucky enough to get before her alarm screamed again.

——

Claire drove home the following Friday, her knuckles white on the steering wheel and her vision blurred with tears. She’d been so damn grateful to clock out at four o’clock, and she’d barely made it out of the locker room without falling apart in front of Joe.

She lost a patient for the first time today. Paul Castano, forty-seven, much too young for the heart attack that killed him.

Claire had been beside herself, and Joe had soothed her, told her there was nothing she could have done.

“Go home and hug your daughter, Lady Jane,” he’d said. “Enjoy the horses. You need it as much as she does right now.”

And, Christ, did she.

Claire hugged Faith just a little too hard for the slightest bit too long when she got home after nearly bursting into tears at Faith’s joy to see her. Faith did not tolerate being held as such for very long, and she squirmed out of Claire’s grasp. Today, not only was Faith happy to see her mother, she was excited: she knew it was horse therapy day.

Seeing Faith so happy to see her and so excited to get to the stables was a welcome distraction from the anguish Claire was feeling. The drive over to the stables was calming as well, though Claire was now paranoid about the change in appointment times. Toni hadn’t called her at all, so she had no reason to believe that the switch hadn’t gone over well. She supposed after the day she’d had, she’d be prone to overthinking just about anything.

Upon arrival, she calmed considerably at seeing Faith’s exuberance, and even laughed when she began tugging on her hand, willing them to get inside faster.

Leave it to you to get me laughing on the worst of days, Faith.

The door to the visitor’s center opened, and Faith began humming loudly.

“There they are, the Beauchamp girls!” Toni greeted warmly.

“Hello, Toni. Say hello to Miss Toni, Faith.”

“Hello, Faith!” Toni called as Faith waved timidly.

Erica was standing by the counter, and she crouched down to greet Faith. “Hello, Princess. I’m so happy to see you again!”

Faith smiled shyly and hid half of her little body behind her mother’s legs.

“I’m gonna take you guys out to the stable today, get her started with the hellos and leading her to the riding hall.” Erica stood up to address Claire. “Jamie will join us when we get there.”

“Alright,” Claire said, exhaling deeply. “Shall we?”

——

Joe had been right. Claire needed that hour at the stables just as much as Faith had. As they were driving home, Claire felt something resembling peace settle in her heart. Faith was humming happily, kicking her legs, waving the newest Minion Happy Meal toy in the air.

She did very well again today. She was gentle with Pippi, she didn’t protest about the helmet, she was attentive to both Erica and Jamie. Claire kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go terribly wrong, but it just never did. Not at the stables, at least.

They arrived home, Faith zipping up the stairs to the front door as usual. Claire was grateful to get to watch an entire movie with Faith tonight, to decompress, to hold her little girl and be soothed by her oblivious, youthful happiness. When they passed through the front door, Claire dumped the contents of her arms onto the couch as usual and started toward the kitchen, but Faith did not follow.

“Faithie, come on! Don’t you want your chicken?”

Faith didn’t seem to hear her. She lifted Claire’s purse and looked underneath, and then let out a groan.

“What’s the matter darling?”

Faith made a beeline for the front door, and Claire sprinted to lock it, having forgotten to do so upon arriving home.

“No, no, no,” she quickly blocked Faith’s exit. “What are you doing, Faith? What’s wrong?”

Faith began whining and pawing at Claire, hitting her thighs.

“Do not hit, Faith.” Claire crouched down and grabbed her wrists. “What is wrong? Hm? Hungry? Tired? Pain?” She did the signs that she’d learned from the videos Mrs. Lickett had sent. “Can you sign for Mummy? What’s wrong?”

Of course, she couldn’t. It was much too soon for Faith to be carrying out conversation; she’d only just learned any signs at all.

Faith suddenly began wailing.

“Faith, baby, it’s alright, I’m here…” She wrapped her in her arms, but it only lasted for a moment. Faith clawed her way out and began pounding on the door.

What could possibly be wrong? What was she looking for on the couch…?

Then it dawned on her.

Horsie.

She hadn’t checked to see if Faith was holding the stuffed horse before they left the stables.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright!” She stroked her head and tried cupping her cheeks. “Can you look at my eyes, Faith? Faith…it’s alright. We’ll get Horsie back next week. He’ll be alright.”

She was inconsolable.

Claire exhaled heavily and stood up to retrieve the Happy Meal from the coffee table.

“Aren’t you hungry, darling? McDonald’s! Your favorite!” She held the box in front of Faith’s eyes. “Come on, lovie, let’s go eat.”

She reached to grab her hand, but Faith shrieked and pulled back, apparently having no intention of eating a thing until Horsie was returned. She’d be quite hungry by next Friday.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…” Claire threw the Happy Meal back on the coffee table and ran a hand through her hair.

She needs to eat dinner. I have to make this stop. There has to be something…

“Do you want to watch a movie, lovie? How about Frozen?”

Claire scrambled to get the DVD in, holding her breath until the movie started, praying that she’d be drawn to the screen and sit down to watch quietly, and then she could gradually coax her to eat on the couch.

But she just continued wailing.

Claire knew full well once a meltdown was in motion it had to run its course. And this particular meltdown would not run its course until the missing object in question was found.

But she can’t not eat, she can’t not sleep…

Claire didn’t realize she started crying until it was too late.

It was just too much. She’d held a man’s hand today while he died before her eyes, and then hugged his inconsolable wife while she came to terms with having to tell her children their father wasn’t coming home. And then Claire had come home and sought comfort in her own child, and she’d gotten a bit, but of course it didn’t last long.

She knew by the time she drove back, the stable would be closed, so she could not go and pick it up. She tried calling the stable, but no one answered. Apparently, everyone had already gone home.

Faith gave a particularly loud shriek, and Claire felt all her nerves go shot one by one. Hands trembling she scrolled through her phone for something, anything.

Jamie.

Toni had provided her the stable number, her own number, and Jamie’s number in case the main phone was busy. He’d mentioned that he and the other therapists took turns staying after closing to see to the horses. She threw up a quick prayer before clicking on his contact to start a phone call. Even if he wasn’t the one that had stayed today, perhaps he could tell her who had and give her their number?

As the line rang, she felt surges of panic go through her. Was this even appropriate? To be contacting his personal cell number for something that wasn’t really an emergency?

Faith started pounding on the front door again, screaming her head off all the while.

Claire suddenly didn’t given a fuck about what was appropriate.

——

Jamie was sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying the stir fry he’d made for himself and his usual glass of whisky. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he made a note to check his texts later, but then it kept buzzing. Somebody was calling him.

Curious, he pulled out his phone and saw a number he didn’t recognize.

“Bloody telemarketers,” was his first thought, but the area code was local. Eyes narrowing in curiosity, he swiped up to accept the call, setting his fork down.

"Hallo? Who's this?"

"Uh...hi, Jamie. It's Claire. Claire Beauchamp. From the stables.”

Jamie felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

"Oh...Oh! Uh, hello, Claire. What's uh...what's going on?"

Someone on the other end shrieked, and his stomach lurched.

"Is that Faith? Is she alright?"

"Yes, she's perfectly fine. Physically, at least. She left her horse at the stable, the stuffed one. She's absolutely beside herself and she won't stop crying. Nothing is calming her down, none of her other toys, not putting on a movie or music, not even food.”

Jamie felt his chest tighten. Her voice sounded strained, and she seemed completely frazzled. The second he’d laid eyes on her at the stable today he could tell that something was wrong. It wasn’t the usual sadness he saw in her eyes, it was something different, something visceral. Whatever was happening now was certainly not helping.

“She won't eat, and I know she won't sleep either. I called you because no one was picking up at the stable and I was hoping you'd still be there but just not near the phone?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Just in the stable. Canna hear the phone," he answered without thinking. What the damned hell are ye doing, lad?

"Oh, thank Christ. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"No," he said quickly. "I'll, uh, I'll bring it to ye."

"What...?"

"Wouldna do fer ye to be drivin' wi' Faith as she is now." Though Jamie was making things up to cover the fact that he was already home, he wasn't entirely wrong. Even if he was at the stable, he wouldn't feel comfortable with Claire driving twenty minutes with a screaming bairn. "Wouldna be safe.”

"But...it's...are you sure...? You wouldn't get in trouble?"

"Nah. I'm sure other therapists have done the same fer some o' their kids."

Keep digging, James.

"But you haven't done it before?"

"No."

"But others have?"

"Aye." Liar.

"Alright...as long as you're sure it's not inappropriate."

"Only inappropriate if we make it so, Sassenach."

Why the bloody fuck did I say that?

Claire cleared her throat. “Right. So…you’ve got my address from Faith’s file?”

“Aye.”

“So...twenty minutes? Half hour?"

"Aye. Just about."

Idiot. Bloody feckin’ idiot.

"Alright. See you soon."

"Bye, then."

Jamie hung up, threw his phone on the table and slapped an exasperated hand over his face.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What is wrong wi’ ye?”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #outlander au #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #faith fraser #jamie fraser #joe abernathy

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gigslist · 3 years

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34+ Voiceover Roles & 3 Musician Open Calls - Work From Home - Paid

'F*cking Sober' Podcast

22 + Roles

3 Open Calls for Musicians With Their Own Music

PAID WORK FROM HOME NON UNION

Deadline : September 15, 2021 2:00 PM

Somehow9am Productions // F*cking Sober: the first 90 days Podcast

Katie Mack, coord.

:"A call for artists in recovery for the 2nd Season of The Webby Award Winning Podcast Series 'F*cking Sober: the first 90 days.' We are looking for voice over talent and musicians/music producers for 'FS: Shadai.' 'F*cking Sober' is a semi-comedic mostly non-fictional narrative podcast following Shadai’s first 90 days of getting sober. Thirty-five year old Shadai is the black, queer, strong female in advertising— so what if she keeps shots in her bra for between meetings, right? But after a shitshow holiday party, a fuzzy cop encounter, and a disaster presentation with the new big account, Dry January doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Maybe Dry Forever is better. This is what it looks, acts, and feels like to get f*cking sober. This 8 episode serialized show features music by artists with their own story with recovery. F*cking Sober Season 1: Anita has received 15k downloads since it’s release in Nov 2020, and received a 2021 Webby Nomination for Best Limited Series, and a Webby Win for Best Writing for a Podcast. At this time we are only looking to work with artists who have a relationship/understanding of recovery. Please follow instructions for submitting and what to include in the cover letter to be considered! Thank you! Listen to Season 1 to get the vibe: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/f-cking-sober-the-first-90-days/id1538804959?i=1000499155627 And check out: www.fckingsoberpodcast.com @fckingsober90_podcast More information about Somehow9am Productions & Katie Mack (Producer): www.somehow9amproductions.com www.mackstage.com"

Roles

Shadai (Voiceover): Female, 18+WORK FROM HOMEproduction states: "Note: We are only accepting submissions from artists who have their own story in recovery, TY! 35 year old, black, queer, cis gender female attorney with a dry sense of humor, who has strong opinions and shares them sometimes, is a powerhouse and knows it all… until… until she doesn’t. Please note your experience with improv/comedy in your cover letter If you have writing experience or are interested in writing please note this in your cover letter. We will be giving writing credits to the right candidate who desires to contribute to the molding of this character."Required Media: Voice Reel

Other Characters (Voiceover): 20-70

"Note: We are only accepting submissions from artists who have their own story in recovery, TY! We are looking for diversity in every sense of the word, from all genders, to ages, to ethnicities, to lived experiences, to food preferences!! In short, we are looking to cast dope, interesting people. Looking to cast various characters through out the S2 Shadai, including but not limited to:

Dad (black, army veteran, a dad’s dad)

Mom (black, hyper critical, the opposite of Shadai)

Dana (any ethnicity, work enemy)

Coco (white, work bestie)

JewBoo aka Therapist (Jewish, confidant, motherly, with a special sense of humor)

Miriam (black, best friend and ex-lover who tells it like it is)

Galen (white, gay, best friend who is warm and caring and pushy)

15 other characters Please note any experience you may have with comedy/improv if any. Please submit your reel along with your cover letter."Required Media: Voice Reel, Cover Letter

Musicians (BIPOC Artists in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music from BIPOC identifying artists.

Musicians (Queer Identifying Artist in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music by Queer Artists.

Musicians (Non-BIPOC/Non-Queer Artists in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music from non-BIPOC or non-Queer Identifying Artists in recovery.

"To be produced over the course of October 2021 - January 2022 Shadai’s commitment is estimated at two hrs/wk. Other characters 30mins. Musicians, all work should already exist. Please be prepared to send stems or stripped down tracks."

Compensation & Union Contract Details

Stipend: $25 - $75Production states: "Shadai (Lead Character), $550 for full season. All Other Characters: $25-$50 per episode. Musicians: $25-$75 per song per episode. Sync license contract."

Seeking talent: Nationwide (United States)

Website:http://www.fckingsoberpodcast.com

======================================

'Rain: Series III'

12 Voiceover Roles

PAID WORK FROM HOME NONUNION

Deadline: September 14, 2021 8:59 PM

JKPRising James Klim, filmmaker

Seeking voiceover talent for "Rain: Series III," a web-series, created in the video game Halo Reach on MCC via Xbox/PC. "This series will have a total of 13 episodes. I have many characters to cast, 12 specifically. If you wish to learn more about the show, you can check out my documentary series regarding the show. You can view the first episode here - www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlzPQvJS3og A little bit about me, I am a freelance filmmaker who actually got into film through making Halo videos as a kid when I was younger. You can check out some of my work here - www.jkprising.com/ I've always wanted to return to my roots & finish a series I was never able to before, but now I have the time to focus on it. This is a paid position. Rates depend on each character as some have more lines than others & vice versa. I am not the wealthiest person in the world, but I will to compensate each voice actor for their performance. My budget per character is between $100 - $300. This again, all varies per character. In this post, there is a video of what the character will look like in the series. I have also attached a single page from a random episode script from the show. The highlighted lines are what the character will say. There will also be non verbal lines highlighted, this is meant to be voiced kind of like an anime, where every movement usually has sounds. Typically, how would you make a sound if you did any of the following, head turn, turns around, surprised gasp, sighs, etc. Since this a paid gig, I am expecting a professional voice audition & if hired, continued professional audio. This means minimum to no background noise. The audio needs to be crisp."

Roles

Chloe Moody (Voiceover): Female, 18-35WORK FROM HOME29. Voice type: English/United Kingdom accent, polite, doesn't get mad often but when she does, she loses it, anxious, low self esteem, hopeful. Chloe Moody used to be a psychiatrist, but after the death of her soon to be husband, she spiraled into insanity. She met someone later on in life named Tom Rains, who looked exactly like her dead boyfriend. She became obsessed with him & tried to get with him, which sunk her further into a deep depression. She finally hit rock bottom, which causes her to seek out help from the very people she used to serve. Chloe meets a psychiatrist named Jennifer, who is able to help herself almost fully recover. Chloe eventually accidently runs back into Tom, which triggers Chloe to try one last time. After a final rejection, Chloe comes to the realization that she is not redeemable & decides to take her own life in front of Tom. Chloe's death, triggers a massive event for Tom Rains, which has massive ramifications for the series. Chloe is a major character and will appear in a couple episodes.Languages:

English

Accents:

British

Australian

Voice Styles:

Soft

Softspoken

Crazy

Compassionate

Sad

Angry

Required Media: Voice Reel

Dark Daryl (Voiceover): Male, 18-40WORK FROM HOME

32, voice type: Very dark presence, evil. sadistic, look at examples like Yami Marik from the Original Yu-Gi-Oh - www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xaa_ycud6o, manic, darkness. Dark Daryl is the darkness of his original persona, Daryl. Daryl accidentally acquired a powerful technology known as an imperium. This caused Daryl to lose himself to it at some point & was taken over by an alternate personality named, The Professor, which caused tons of damage. When Daryl came back to his senses, the damage had been done & others abandoned him, which caused him to grow angry at something that he didn't consciously do. Daryl once again loses himself to the imperium, which turns into Dark Daryl, a representation of all the anger & hatred he endured over the course of his past uncontrollable actions. Dark Daryl is very aggressive, sadistic & wants to destroy the people who wronged him in the past. Eventually, he comes face to face with Daryl & fights to stay as the one who remains in control, even if that means killing Daryl & anyone who gets in his way. Dark Daryl is a character who appears in the second half of the show, & becomes the series main villain. He will appear in many episodes.

Languages:

English

Voice Styles:

Aggressive

Angry

Evil

Commanding

Straightforward

Scary

Dangerous

Intimidating

Demonic

Required Media: Voice Reel

Nikki (Voiceover): Female, 18-35 WORK FROM HOME

25. Voice type: Energetic, passionate, caring, open-minded, loving, positive, independent, fighter. Nikki used to date Tom Rains. She didn't really have much going for her, as she had no ambition at all during that time of her life. After Tom broke up with her, this was quite the shock to Nikki. It caused her to really dive deep within herself & from that moment, she tried to learn more about herself. She discovered a love for storytelling, & so went into journalism. Nikki is now dating Jennifer & they have been together for almost a year. Nikki eventually gets wrapped up in a major conspiracy, which drags many of her friends in with her. She is in for the story of her entire career. Nikki is a major character and will appear in many episodes.

Languages:

English

Voice Styles:

Comforting

Compassionate

Caring

Amusing

Animated

Brave

Heroic

Required Media: Voice Reel

Talent works remotely with professional recording equipment.

Professional Pay: $100 - $300Pays between $100-$300 depending on character.

Nationwide (United States)

Additional Materials

Website: https://www.jkprising.com/

Nikki Audition.pdf - https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/7f95c65b-ab53-43d3-a66b-9e59d1041acb.pdf

Dark Daryl Audition.pdf - https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/00cfdf46-84c1-4da6-9dee-91c7bcdeed3d.pdf

Chloe Moody Audition.pdf https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/186cbe9e-9c7e-4ce5-bcbe-2407a9dec00b.pdf

#voiceover casting calls #work from home voice over work #music wanted online #jobs for musicians #remote jobs for musicians #music writer jobs #gigs for recovering addicts

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happytsukki · 4 years

Text

common sense

k. tsukishima

you were a fool. but only for tsukishima. (f! reader)

a/n: ive been reading the manga and chapters 370+ literally have me bawling, im so emotionally attached. also fun fact you cant get your drivers license in japan till you graduate high school,,big rip for (y/n) and her food.

someone with common sense would’ve ran home to avoid the predicted forecast. they would’ve enjoyed safely arriving home without getting a single drop of rain on their uniform. but you lacked common sense.

the steady beat of raindrops hitting the ground accompanied by a strong gust of wind greeted you as you exited the school. you stood waiting, a bright green umbrella painted with purple triceratops in one hand while you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“what are you still doing here?” a voice suddenly asked, snapping you out of your trance. looking up you locked eyes with tsukishima causing a champagne pink hue to creep onto your cheeks.

“oh, i-uh, knew you didn’t have an umbrella, so i figured i would wait for you and we could walk together,” you beamed. tsukishima rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses, but you swore you could see the corners of his lips curl up.

you knew tsukishima. you knew he hated the rain and deep down, he appreciated your kind gesture even if he didn’t say it.

he grabbed the umbrella in your hand and opened it outside the safety of the building. he took two steps into the rain before turning around to realize you were still frozen on the steps of karasuno high. there you were, an idiot shivering from head to toe in the cold weather, yet you still had a smile painted across your face.

“are you gonna just stand there or are you actually coming?” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion.

“coming!!” you cooed before running down the steps and practicing colliding with him as you pressed closer to him under the tiny umbrella. maybe you should’ve packed a bigger umbrella, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

you walked in unison, small drops falling onto your sweater as you could barely fit under the umbrella with the beanpole. you took notice of one hand tucked away in the warmth of his jacket and the other clutching the umbrella for the two of you. and with your warm gloves, you placed a hand over his.

“sorry, your hand seemed a little cold” you blurted out, slightly afraid he would take his hand away in disgust. but he didn’t, he let you hold his hand. you could finally release the breath you were holding and smiled. rainy days never felt good. the sky may have been dark and gloomy, but being with him felt as if it was another spring day, the sun beaming brightly and the birds chirping.

your walk consisted of asking tsukishima about his volleyball club season and him asking about your classes. you wanted to amuse him, to hear his laugh just once, so you told him the story of how you went to school thinking you math test only to find it was actually an english test, receiving a grade no higher than your age.

and miraculously, he laughed. it was subtle and quiet, but it took away your breath and made your heart race.

tsukishima halted, finally arriving at his home. he glanced up at the sky before catching it slowly transform from a color to a baby blue.

“it stopped raining—“ you cut him off midsentence, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him closer before you placed a quick peck on his lips.

“bye!” you shouted as you ran away. leaving poor tsukishima standing there, dumbfounded as to why his heart was beating so fast and why his knees turned into complete jelly.

you liked tsukishima. and luckily, he liked you too.

someone with common sense would’ve finished their homework and took advantage of a night free of worry. they would’ve enjoyed a full eight hours of sleep while dreams danced through their mind. but you lacked common sense.

the kitchen clock read 2:18, you were growing impatient waiting for cookies in the oven. before your crazy attempt to make lunches and treats for the entire karasuno team, you studied for your history test and finished a 10-page essay due the next day.

with your apron stained with all sorts of condiments and food, you glanced at the pile of bento boxes placed on your dining table. each decorated with a name of every player on karasuno’s mens volleyball club, of course including the cutest managers and best coaches.

the lunch box on top, reading my tsukki, my moon made with extra love and care for you boyfriend.

tomorrow was the miyagi prefectural qualifiers and as much as you wanted to be there, you had school. you longed to be in the crowds, screaming for tsukki and karasuno at the top of your lungs. so of course, you felt guilty for not being able to give your support. an alternative? food.

beep beep. the timer of the oven finally went off and you breathed a sigh of relief. you weren’t sure how long you could keep your eyelids open. your tiredness must’ve gotten to your head because without a second thought you opened the oven and reached for the scorching pan.

you spewed a variety of curses quietly in an attempt to not wake your parents, but the pain was intolerable. after taking the cookies out with the opposite hand, throwing them in a container and trying to type out ‘how to deal with burns’ with your pinky while one hand held ice (not a good idea) to the burn— you fell asleep on the couch.

not even 3 hours later, you woke up. oh the things i do for this boy. you shook your head, a smile creeping onto your face just thinking about him. you quickly throw on a hoodie and carefully place the food into a basket attached to your bike.

the sun had barely come up, just peeking from the horizon. it was way too early. riding your bike to karasuno while you rubbed your eyes constantly and yawned nonstop was a challenge. you almost tipped over several times. but once you arrived you were greeted by a horde of “hey it’s y/n!!” but the only thing you could really hear was “y/n what are you doing here?”

“well, good morning to you too, tsukki,” you chirped, taking the food out of your basket and carefully distributing it to everyone.

“wow y/n, you really didn’t have to do this.” daichi said. “but this does look amazing.” sugawara butt in, admiring the cute design. “y/n you’re the best, seriously!!” praised hinata, already shoving a small bite into his mouth for a quick ‘taste.’

when you handed tsukki his, confusion and worry came across his face. “but— look at you y/n. you look terrible.” he spat, reaching over to inspect your face. he titled your chin up and pulled your eyes wide.

“is that what you tell your girlfriend after she spent all night to make you lunch?” you pouted, slightly hurt from how he reacted.

“i think y/n looks pretty, like always.” yamaguchi gushed from afar.

“shut up yamaguchi.” “sorry tsukki!!”

“but you know thats not what i meant. i’m just worried about, you look like you haven’t sleep at all.” he shook his head.

“hey! technically i slept for 3 hours.” you argued, earning a signature tsukishima eye roll from the man himself.

“you’re an idiot, y/n. but thank you.” he muttered and placed a kiss on your forehead. suddenly, coach ukai cut in and yelled for everyone to get in the van. groaning, tsukki squeezed you into a hug.

“sorry i can’t be there, but win for me and i’ll be there next match. i promise” you pouted, adding an extra boost of encouragement for tsukishima. these days, you’d noticed how passionate he’d become about the sport and no words could describe your happiness over this.

after waving bye to the team and wishing them the best of luck, you stood alone in the parking lot. happy and excited for what was to come for the karasuno boys volleyball club. but stupid for thinking you could make it through the rest of your day on the mere 3 hours of sleep.

you were an idiot— a fool, perhaps.

someone might as well hand you a jester hat and shoes, bells included, of course. because you were a fool, for tsukishima kei only.

someone with common sense would’ve followed the sign saying “only players allowed on court.” they would’ve yelled praises of encouragement from the stands and just sent a text. but you lacked common sense.

as soon as you saw red liquid ooze from tsukishima’s hand, you hoped out of your seat and grabbed your belongings without hesitation. oh no. your heart sunk and before yachi could even try to calm you down you were already running.

past the crowds and down the stairs leading to the court. you sprinted towards the karasuno team, completely ignoring the officials yelling at you.

you gently pushed through tsukishima’s teammates and an angry expression reached your face once you met eyes with the boy.

“tsukishima kei, are you stupid?” you cursued at him. his face turns a slight pink as his teammates snicker at your typical girlfriend antics. meanwhile, several tournament officials walked over to check on tsukishima’s condition and kick you off the court since you weren’t a player. but you didn’t care. you took his hurt hand into yours, putting your face closer to examine the extent of his injury.

he winced in pain causing your anger to melt away. “you almost gave me a heart attack, you have no idea how worried i was up th-“ you blab on before tsukishima reassures you.

“y/n i’m still breathing, right? you care about me that much huh?” tsukishima smirked as he tried to hide the pain he felt in his right hand.

“okay lovebirds, why don’t you go to the medical office together and get it checked out? we’re going to need you back on the court, tsukishima.” coach ukai quickly sends the two of you away in hopes of him returning by the fifth set.

akiteru and yachi anxiously follow as you and tsukishima rush to the medical office. they wait outside and the doctor tells you two that only his pinky is discolated and the rest of his fingers are fine, so he can still return but he has to wait for the bleeding to stop. the doctor excuses himself to get more bandages, leaving the two of you alone.

you stand up from your seat to stand in front of tsukishima. his face is serious, clearly still fixated on the game still going on at the moment. you wanted to give him peace but you couldn’t hold in how proud you were.

you go on to explain how amazed you were. “and when you jumped up to block, i knew ushijima had no chance— then BOOM! his spike goes straight down into the floor. i think i broke yachi’s eardums with my screaming. not to mention how hot you looked out there like what the hell??” you gushed, making tsukishima smile amidst his pain.

he pulled you in closer and wrapped his long arms around your torso, tucking his face into the comfort of your neck. like muscle memory, your hand finds its way to his back and began to rub circles.

“you’re really sweaty, tsukki. its kinda gross.” you whisper into his hear making him click his tongue in response. but despite the perspiration dripping down his back, you honestly didn’t mind.

tsukishima pulls away, his eyes wander around your face. his breath hitching at your every feature, especially at how your eyes possessed a unique twinkle that didn’t just resemble stars but the entire galaxy. then he remembers the day he fell in love with you, that day you walked home together in the rain.

“god y/n, you’re crazy you know that, right? but i love you.” he chuckles. “i know.” you proudly state while you try to hide the fact that your heart was physically hurting from how fast it was beating. “and i-“ you sprinkle a dozen kisses all over tsukishima’s face. one for eveything you loved about him.” love you too, kei” you say before pressing your swollen lips against his.

“now go out there and beat shiratorizawa’s ass!”

and that’s exactly what he does.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshot #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #anime scenarios #anime imagines

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addercharmer · 3 years

Text

Izumi woke with a gasp that had her bolting into a seated position. Her leg was throbbing in dull pain.

"Ow." She moaned out, it was not the worst pain she had had inflicted on her, but the tugging sensation on her skin was still painful.

"Ah good, you're awake." Recovery girl lightly exclaimed. Izumi just blinked at the younger than she was used to seeing heroine, not really sure what she should say.

"I will visit your home every other day to finish healing you, Nezu agreed that having you walk here would put unnecessary strain on your wound." Recovery girl tells Izumi as she walks over with a set of crutches.

"Try not to walk around too much until we have the muscles healed. Nezu is waiting for you in the teachers lounge." The crutches are pushed into Izumi's hands, then Recovery girl disappears into her office.

With a sigh Izumi levered herself off the hospital bed, she felt sticky with sweat and couldn't wait to get back home to shower. The way to the teachers lounge wasn't very long in normal terms but to Izumi it felt like it took a decade.

Once she reached the door Izumi hesitated to knock. She had never been in the teachers lounge, but her obsessive need to know the layout of the building after the first time she had gotten lost pays off.

Taking a deep breath and shifting to be on her uninjured leg Izumi knocked, turning the knob at the same time.

"Dad, I can go home now." She called into the room, not really thinking.

"Just a moment, Izumi." She heard Nezu call back, along with the sound of gasps.

Once the door had fully opened Izumi saw that there were other people in the room, she winced and blushed a little at their looks of confusion.

The feeling of a paw patting her hip broke Izumi from her flustered thoughts.

"Let's head home, you need to get off that leg." Nezu said, further making the others in the room look more confused.

Izumi just nodded and awkwardly swung herself around to follow the stoat.

The walk home felt like it took forever for Izumi, her hands and armpits hurt from the crutches, and she couldn't put any weight on her injured leg because when she did the muscles burned.

Once home Izumi hobbled straight to the couch and flopped face down with a groan. Nezu gave a light laugh at her actions, his paws giving light clicks as the nails hit the tile.

"I saw you talking to two of the other examinees, were they people you knew before?" Nezu asked from the kitchen, Izumi had no doubt he knew she had and was just fishing for who they were.

Izumi groaned as she rolled over onto her right side.

"Yes. The one who helped me from under the rubble was Aizawa Shōta, he was my homeroom teacher, and underground pro hero EraserHead. His capture rates were in the ninety percent range, he was the best of the underground." Izumi had been so sure that he had been older.

"The blond one from in the hall was Yamada Hizashi, English teacher and pro hero Present Mic, he had a radio show where you could call in and ask for advice or anything else really. His capture rate was in the sixty percent, he had been more worried about civilians that if another hero was around he took care of them first. Really great hero when you match him up to someone like Endeavour or even All Might." Izumi had lost a lot of respect for the number one hero, she had still made herself look like a crazy fan girl before she had been rewound.

Nezu hummed at her assessment of the heros. "Well good thing that they both got enough points to enter the hero course."

Hearing that, Izumi pushed herself up a little. "Oh, well that's another change made." She whispered softly.

Nezu's ear twitched letting her know that he had heard her, without him even asking, she explained. "Aizawa was placed in general studies and then was moved to hero course after winning the sports festival."

"No one has ever done that before." Nezu said with just a little awe in his voice.

Izumi nodded, but then she had a thought. "With him doing that a boy from my year tried the same, he made it into the final round, but he lost to me when his quirk didn't work well on me."

By this point in their conversation Nezu had made his way to the couch and situated himself where her head had been. A soft pat to his own legs told Izumi he wanted to pet her, it had been something of an awkward bonding moment the first time it had happened.

Nezu was at heart still partly an animal, he had instincts that made him want to clean his young and cuddle with said young often.

The first time it happened, Izumi had been sprawled out on the couch. Nezu had entered the room and had taken note of the rats nest her hair had become and suddenly he was sitting by her head claws raking through her hair gently.

Both had been mildly surprised at Izumi going boneless as his nails scratched lightly on her skelp, it had become their preferred method of comfort over the last two years. As they both sat on the couch Izumi felt herself relax completely against her guardians legs.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I made progress with the commission. Tamaki Keigo will possibly be released into my custody depending on your performance during the sports festival. Your education records had been made available to them, as well as the physiological assessment you went through regarding your teaching license." Nezu told her, Izumi felt somewhere between elated and nauseous that the commission was basing the welfare of a child on her performance.

"That's...good?" Izumi asked hesitantly.

"Un, if you medal then Tamiki will be allowed to have a psychological assessment from an outside source of my choosing, the phycologist will then decide who would be the better caregiver." Izumi doesn't deflate with the knowledge, but it makes her feel better that she doesn't have to place first.

"How are we sure that they won't just pay off the psychologist?" Izumi asks, she wouldn't put it past the commission to do that.

"Ah, I will be picking the day of the assessment, there is also a very well worded contract that was signed by the president that any chance at bribery or cohesion would automatically put the pup in my care." Izumi smiled, she knew that Nezu would have thought of that, just she had felt better asking.

"We are gonna need a bigger house." Izumi says, Nezu's claws press a little harder on her skelp in his surprise.

"We only have two rooms here. You are going to get Hawks out of the commission, and from some snooping that I've done has led me to some rather disturbing things." Izumi has full faith that Nezu will have custody of the crimson winged hero the day after the festival.

She had been hiding something for Nezu that she hadn't been sure how to tell him, but she knew that he would do anything in his power to protect children.

"Endeavour's oldest son, in six years it's said that he dies in a training accident, he doesn't die, he runs away and becomes a villian that attacks my class. I recognized the burn patterns in some photos online." Izumi pauses, she's not really sure if it's her place to say anything.

"Also Endeavour bought his wife from her family after threatening them. His youngest son told me about it. Told me of the abuse that he and his family went through. I…I don't know what to do, I don't have enough evidence so I didn't want to bring it to you until then, but I think with the high probability of Hawks joining our family it would be better if we could plan for a way to house Endeavour's family too until something can actually be done, we could save Dabi, and Todoroki-san from being put in a mental hospital, and the maybe Todoroki-kun won't refuse to use half of his quirk, and I don't know…" Izumi rambles, she's a little nervous at telling Nezu before she has proof.

"So a bigger home? I think we will need a backyard if there will be more children." Izumi is dumbfounded at Nezu's simple shifting of his own plans. Izumi just stays where she is quiet and wide eyed.

Okame:

Izumi had been sitting at the coffee table doing some research on what Todoroki-kun had told her at the sports festival.

Most of her research wasn't the most legal way of doing things but her new dad had told her that sometimes bending and even breaking the law was better than doing nothing to help a person in need.

One of the things Izumi had hacked into was Endeavour's cloud, he kept a bunch of documents there as well as photos of his children.

None of the photos were happy, they looked to be progress photos, like the children were experiments.

The one that caught her attention was of a six year old boy. He has snow white hair, bright blue eyes that looked like they wanted to end whoever was on the other side of the camera.

The thing that really caught her attention was the beginning of nonreversible scars under the blazing blue eyes and starting to form a glazlo smile, she knew those burns.

"Holy fuck!" She yelped at the realization that Endeavour's oldest son had become one of the worst villains she had ever met.

Snapping her laptop shut, Izumi backed away from it slowly, she was just gonna leave that all alone for now.

#rewound #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #chapter5 #female midoriya izuku #bnha #dad nedzu #shirakumo oboro

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cantdwellonanyofit · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Think Enough Before I Say Too Much - Ch 6.

"I think those words every time I see you. It’s like your allurement invades my chest, spreads out, and fills my veins. Until my blood is replaced by how enamored I am with you. Until it’s the only thing keeping my heart pumping.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Eugene.”

Dedicated to: Stolperzunge; my favourite person on this planet.

The smut is....filthy. Sorry.

Several days passed while Gene and Shelton continued to follow a similar routine. Wake up, breakfast, clean up, listen to the radio, dinner, clean up, bed. It was an easy schedule, and Gene adored it. They hadn’t argued since their last dispute. Gene was determined to keep his promise to Merriell. He’d be better. He had to. Not that Merriell had begun choosing his words with fastidious care, but rather Gene was better at letting things go. Reminding himself there was no malice in Shelton’s words.

Gene was tangled in the bed cover, half awake. The sun had started to peak through the curtains. A beam of light illuminated a spot on the wall through the open doorway. Gene’s leg lay strewn over the left side of the bed, Shelton’s side, but he’d gone hours ago. Shelton had jolted awake, startling Gene. However, his recovery was quick once Gene had asked if he was ok. So, Gene didn’t follow and console him.

Shelton came in carrying a cup of coffee, cigarette dangling from his lips. The beam of light shone on him briefly as he came through the doorway. He was positively angelic. Shelton set the cup down on the bedside table for Gene. He was dressed in his work clothes. Gene blinked several times to get the sleep out of his eyes. Once they focused, he looked Shelton up and down.

“No,” Gene shimmied across the bed until he was lying in Shelton’s usual spot. He then reached for Shelton’s thigh and coaxed him forward until Gene could firmly wrap an arm around his leg.

Shelton smiled, “I gotta go, mon loup.” Shelton had taken a long drag from his cigarette, then stubbed it out in the ashtray on the bedside table. Smoke poured out of his mouth as he proceeded to press the knee that wasn’t currently imprisoned by Gene, and both hands, into the mattress to balance himself. He then bent his slender frame in half to press a kiss to Gene’s cheek.

“You’re leaving?” Gene asked, already knowing the answer. Not liking it one bit.

“You wanna keep eatin’?’ Shelton asked. “I gotta go, or I’ll miss the bus. The house is yours. Don’t burn it down.” Shelton, still in the same bent position, kissed Gene’s lips. He subsequently pried Gene’s fingers open and removed his leg from Gene’s grasp. Gene groaned in displeasure. However, rather than stay and console him, Shelton turned to leave. “Drink your coffee.” He ordered over his shoulder, then was gone.

Gene sighed. He moved Shelton’s pillow until it was resting against the headboard, then relaxed his back against it and took a sip of coffee. He felt uneasy with Shelton gone. So, he got up and lazily journeyed outside to sit on the porch steps. He watched the birds and listened to the cars going by as he continued sipping his coffee. It would be another warm day. The sun felt nice on his pale skin. There were only a few days left in September. Gene could hardly believe it. Time was fleeting now that he and Shelton were reunited. He would need to begin writing letters to Sid and his parents, confirming he was alive, before they worried. However, Gene tucked the thought away and returned inside. He washed his cup, then used his restless energy to clean. If Shelton was going to support him financially, the least Gene could do was tidy up the house. He tried to remember the maid’s responsibilities as they cleaned his childhood home. Though, with the house lacking knick-knacks, and with Shelton already being an orderly person, Gene merely swept the floors before his mission was complete.

He climbed the steps, shaved, showered, and dressed. As Gene put on his watch, he realized it was only 1100. He sighed deeply. Gene collected the money Sid had gifted him, grabbed the spare key Shelton left for him, then locked up the house. He walked towards the road and stuck his thumb out. He hoped to catch a ride back to Baton Rouge. It wasn’t long before someone pulled over. Gene bent to look in the car. It was a fellow about Gene’s age. Gene opened the car door.

“You headed into Baton Rouge by chance?” Gene asked.

“Sure am. Hope in.” The man answered. So, Gene did.

Gene fastened his seatbelt. Although hitchhiking was common, Gene never needed to. Sid was always willing to take him wherever he needed to go. So, he wasn’t sure what people did once they were in the car. Gene decided to sit awkwardly and look out the window. The guy glanced over at Gene a few times, started a bit of small talk, but otherwise didn’t disturb him.

Gene requested to be dropped off at the Sears he’d visited previously. The workers would know him by name soon. The man obliged and pulled up next to the store. Gene muttered a thank you, offered to pay, but closed the door after the man declined. Gene entered the store and leisurely browsed. Eventually, he found some novels, grabbed more paper, some more clothes, and then eyed a couple of cookbooks. Perhaps he could cook dinner for Shelton on days he worked. Gene flipped through each page to ensure the instructions were in English, then headed towards the checkout line. Luckily, none of the same workers were on duty. So, he advanced through the line with minimal small talk.

He glanced at his watch, only 1400. He decided he should purchase supplies for one of the easier recipes he’d selected to test his cooking skills. Gene walked until he located a grocery store, swiftly checked the recipe, then headed inside. He bought chicken, curry powder, and green cabbage. He also thought to grab milk, since he didn’t take inventory before he left. Better safe than sorry. By the time he’d left, it was nearly 1600. Gene wasn’t certain what time Shelton would return from work. He worried if Shelton returned to an empty house, he might panic. Especially since Gene hadn’t left a note. He didn’t fancy the idea of commuting on several buses. So, he made his way to the road and stuck his thumb out again. This time the wait was longer, but eventually an elderly man pulled over and smiled at him.

“Any chance you’d take me to Jackson? I live a short distance from town. I could spare money if you’d drop me off directly at the house.” Gene offered.

“Works for me. What’s your name?” the man asked, still smiling.

Gene hesitated. He wasn’t sure why it mattered. “Eugene,” he answered. He didn’t provide his surname.

“Alright, Eugene, buckle up. I’m a hell of a driver.” Gene again hesitated; the man laughed. “I’m only kiddin’.” Gene laughed nervously, but nonetheless slid into the car. He’d survived the war. Surely, he could survive some maniacal driving. Once Shelton got his license, Gene surmised he’d be praying to God every time they left the house. He might as well get used to it.

This man was gregarious. Unfortunately for Gene. They discussed how the world had changed since the war. How things specifically changed in Louisiana. How some people were now more tolerant of Cajuns since they’d operated as translators in France during the fight against Hitler. How, in other ways, things were still the same and people were still prejudiced. Gene wasn’t ecstatic about the topic, but at least it wasn’t regarding the war he’d personally served in. It was also intriguing to consider Shelton’s history through this stranger’s stories. Gene wondered if Shelton had faced discrimination. If that was why he’d never spoken French in Japan. Perhaps he wanted to prevent any prejudice or judgement. Gene wasn’t sure whether Shelton really cared about any of that.

The stranger continued babbling until they’d arrived at Merriell’s house. Gene thanked God. He’d been moments away from rolling out of the car for his own sanity. Gene couldn’t tell if Merriell was home yet, so he hastily grabbed his bags, thanked the man, paid him, then hopped out.

Once Gene reached the door it was still locked. He breathed a sigh of relief. He imagined Merriell could never estimate when he’d be home, since it probably depended on the size of the job. Gene let himself in, then began putting away the groceries. Next, he put the papers on the desk with the other stack, then hauled the books and clothes up to Merriell’s room. He made quick work of filling the dresser and bookshelf, then returned downstairs to start chopping the cabbage. By the time Gene had found a properly sized skillet and lit the flame on the stove, he heard the front door open. The front door faced the kitchen, so he and Merriell instantly made eye contact.

“What the hell did I say about burnin’ down the house?” Merriell slipped off his shoes, set a bag on the kitchen table, then entered the kitchen.

Gene laughed. He grabbed some of the chicken he’d chopped and tossed it in the skillet. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You think burnin’ down my house would be ‘nice for me?’” He kissed the back of Gene’s neck. Gene released a poorly concealed sigh, so Merriell did it again.

Gene swatted at him. “You keep that up, and I will burn the house down.”

Merriell laughed, then tilted his head. He looked confused for a moment before asking, “Where’d the cabbage come from?”

“The store,” Gene answered. Shelton gripped Gene’s sides to tickle him. Gene immediately shifted until he was out of range.

“Fuckin’ smartass. Did I have that in the pantry? I don’t remember buyin’ it.” Shelton was looking around, as if trying to discover other items he couldn’t recall purchasing.

“You didn’t buy it. I did.” Gene responded. Merriell’s head was still tilted. It reminded Gene of Deacon, who would perform the same gesture when asked if he wanted to go for a walk. Gene smiled at the thought.

“How’d you do that?” Merriell asked.

“I hitched a ride.” Gene stirred the chicken.

Merriell gaped at him. “You what?” He asked again.

Gene stopped stirring and turned to face Shelton. “I hitched a ride?” He repeated, his voice rose at the end in question.

Merriell continued to gape at him. They didn’t break eye contact. “You could have just gone with me on the bus this morning.”

“I didn’t realize I was heading into town until I went. No big deal.” Gene resumed stirring.

Shelton moved until he was on the other side of Gene, gaping at him. Gene tried not to laugh. Shelton was observing him as if he were a puzzle. Suddenly, Shelton stilled Gene’s hand, “Let it cook, it won’t burn.” He said, “I—” Shelton shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“Why not? People do it all the time,” Gene answered.

“Not you. Look at you. You got ‘cute and innocent’ written in pen right across ya’ forehead. I just never imagined---You’re full of surprises, boy.”

“I’m capable of an assortment of actions you’ve never imagined, Merriell.” Gene added, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” Shelton’s voice was seductive. He pressed another kiss to the back of Gene’s neck, but this time, Shelton opened his mouth to dart his tongue out.

Gene whimpered, grabbed for the counter. They hadn’t even made out since the afternoon Gene had arrived. He was desperate. Shelton chuckled, then checked several pieces of chicken with a thermometer. Presumably cooked, he went over to the cabbage and threw it in the pan with the chicken.

“No, get out,” Gene playfully pushed Shelton out of the way. “I’m cooking. You just stand there, look pretty, and help me when I’m doing something wrong.” Gene grabbed the curry powder, glanced at the cookbook to ensure he added the right amount, then dumped it in the skillet. As soon as Gene set down the curry powder, Shelton picked it back up and dumped more in. Gene yelled “I said get!” And swatted at Shelton, who laughed and skittered out of Gene’s grasp. Gene stirred everything. Shelton headed out of the room, rubbing Gene’s back on his way past him.

“Gonna get changed. I think you can manage some stirrin’, since you’re suddenly an expert at stirrin’ up trouble.” Shelton smiled at him. Gene returned it.

Gene shut the fire off soon after Shelton headed upstairs. He removed the skillet from the burner and grabbed plates. By the time Shelton returned downstairs, Gene had finished setting the table and was sitting in his usual spot. Gene was thrilled by the notion they already had ‘spots’ at the table, and ‘spots’ in bed. They were adjusting to this new lifestyle much easier than Gene imagined they would. Shelton grabbed Gene’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Thank you, this is nice.”

“I wanted to take care of you. Try to return the favour, for once.” Gene took a bite of food. The heat from the spice assaulted his tongue and he could feel his face turning red. One thing Gene may never adjust to would be the amount of spice Shelton preferred on his food. It was inhuman.

“We already agreed you would pay me in blowjobs. I was fine with that. I don’t pay overtime.” Shelton reminded Gene.

Gene laughed, “I haven’t made good on that promise either. I don’t know how you stand it.”

“Ya’ know, I was gonna bring that up during your end-of-month review. You’re in real danger of replacement, Eugene Sledge.” Shelton’s face was stern.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Gene used his elbow to nudge Shelton. “You’d never replace my skill.”

“Is that so? Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve only experienced your handywork twice. You got some provin’ to do.” Shelton was smiling, eyes downcast as he ate. Gene admired Shelton’s eyelashes, his eyebrows. Eyes sweeping over Shelton’s face. Memorizing every feature and curve. Gene could spend hours looking at him.

They finished eating, and Shelton took their plates into the kitchen. It was Gene’s turn to pester Shelton as he tried to clean up. As soon as Gene entered the room, he dipped a hand in soapy water and rubbed it across Shelton’s face. Shelton turned around so fast Gene startled, which caused him to yelp embarrassingly once Shelton swept Gene’s feet out from under him. Shelton caught Gene with a hand on his back and dipped him, as if they were dancing, until Gene’s back hit the floor. As soon as Gene was flat, Shelton laid flush on top of him, holding himself up on an elbow. A soaking wet hand repeatedly smeared across Gene’s face. Gene was protesting and laughing when Shelton removed his hand and bit into Gene’s exposed neck. Gene’s laughter faded into a groan. Shelton dipped his tongue out into the crook of Gene’s neck. Gene whispered, “Merriell,” and grabbed onto his back. Fingers digging in. Shelton didn’t relent, sucking harder until Gene was sure he’d have a bruise. Gene was panting, face soaking wet, having his neck sucked by Merriell, whose face was also still damp. He assumed they were quite a sight for God to see. Shelton abruptly lifted himself off Gene and returned to the sink.

“You---” Gene took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “You bastard.” Gene wiped his face with his shirt.

“You started it, ma tite boule d’angoisse.” He glanced over at Gene. “I got a present for you,” Shelton added.

“Is that a sex joke?” Gene tried. He’d been wrong the last time, but you never knew with Shelton.

Shelton was laughing openly, “Well, that too, but I got you another present. It’s in the bag on the kitchen table.” Gene had noticed the bag earlier but didn’t think anything of it. Gene smiled sheepishly and got up. He made his way to the kitchen table and opened the bag. He pulled out a pipe. “Oh, yes. Oh, thank the lord,” Gene was saying.

Shelton smiled fondly, “I’m sick of you stealin’ all of mine.” He joked. Shelton finished setting down the last dish. Gene took the tobacco, and cigarettes Shelton must’ve bought for himself, out of the bag.

“Come here,” Gene said.

When Shelton was close enough, Gene kissed him. His hands glided to their preferred spot on Shelton’s neck, fingertips resting in his curls. Shelton deepened their kiss, so Gene slipped his tongue into Shelton’s mouth. Shelton promptly grabbed Gene’s hips and hoisted him upwards until Gene was forced to wrap his legs around Shelton’s slim waist. Gene draped his arms around Shelton’s neck to stabilize them. Shelton then turned, pressed Gene’s back against the wall, and ground his hips. Gene groaned. He was embarrassingly hard already, but he could feel Shelton was in the same predicament. He had no idea how they’d managed to abstain from sex over the past several days. Everything still felt so new. They’d generally focused on adjusting to each other rather than undressing each other. “Set me down, just for a second.” Gene moaned out. Shelton obliged. Once Gene’s feet were planted, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then shimmied his pants to his thighs. As Gene was still in the process of lowering his pants, Shelton tugged Gene’s shorts down. Gene laughed at Shelton’s urgency, but then Shelton fell to his knees. Gene nearly fainted. “Hang on. Wait, Merri—”

Shelton’s mouth was on him. Gene sucked air in through his teeth while he eased his fingers through Shelton’s curls, tugging gently. Shelton looked up into Gene’s eyes as he took Gene’s entire length into his mouth. Shelton was so handsome. It was criminal. The angle of Shelton’s jaw was a stark contrast to his slender shoulders. Shelton moaned around Gene. Eyelids fluttering closed as Gene hit the back of his throat, and that was all it took. Gene didn’t even have time to warn Shelton before he was shuddering through his orgasm. Shelton worked Gene through it, then carefully released Gene from his mouth.

“Ta daaa,” Shelton said, smiling. Gene laughed so hard that Shelton joined him.

“Sorry,” Gene tried to catch his breath. “I was looking forward to whatever plans you had for me against that wall.” Gene truly was disappointed he wouldn’t find out.

“Oh well, we have tomorrow.” Shelton said. He got to his feet and turned Gene around then hastily sank to his knees again. “Lift your foot,” Shelton ordered. Gene did as he was told with one foot, and then the other, so Shelton could remove and toss Gene’s pants and shorts aside. Gene briefly wondered how many times he was going to be naked in the front room of the house, when Shelton wasted no time steering Gene until he was bent over the kitchen table. Shelton was already working his own pants open, when Gene shifted so he could look behind him, elbows resting on the table.

“I hope that’s a promise,” Gene’s voice was hoarse. He never knew what Shelton was doing, and it both excited and terrified him. Shelton wasn’t much for talking Gene through his plans.

Shelton yanked both his pants and shorts to his thighs, then held his hand under Gene’s chin. “Spit for me, mon amour.” Gene worked his spit around in his mouth until he had a decent amount, but then paused. “Please, baby,” Shelton added. Gene blushed and spit. Merriell immediately coated himself with it. Then his hand closed over himself. He moved so the tip of his cock was resting against Gene’s opening. He didn’t apply any pressure, but rather just let it rest. Shelton was thrusting into his own hand when he stopped. He moved back enough that the tip of his cock was no longer against Gene’s ass. “Do me a favour?” Shelton sounded intoxicated.

“Anything, Merriell.” Gene meant it. Anything.

“Close your legs for me?” Shelton said. Gene was too confused to initially respond. “Press your thighs together.” Shelton tried to explain. He placed a hand on the outer edge of each of Gene’s thighs until Gene tightly closed them. Merriell held his hand out again, and Gene spit. Merriell coated himself then slid his cock between Gene’s thighs. Gene moaned. He’d have to interrogate Shelton about where he learned everything he used on Gene. Gene laughed at the thought, and Shelton’s head snapped up to look at him. He’d been concentrating on thrusting in and out of Gene’s thighs.

“Where the fuck do you come up with this stuff?” Gene asked.

Shelton grinned, “Where any good man learns,” he didn’t add any further context. Gene at least felt confident that didn’t mean Shelton had learned it with someone else.

Gene laughed softly, “You’re terrible,” his voice still sounded hoarse. On another thrust, Gene moaned.

Shelton encouraged him, “That’s it, baby. Please? Talk to me?” He sounded so desperate. His breath hitched with every movement. Fingers dug into Gene’s hips. Gene could feel and hear how slick his thighs were. It was driving him crazy. Gene thought it’d be cruel if he didn’t help Shelton finish. Although he felt shy about it, he used his excitement as courage. He leaned to the side, making sure Shelton was looking right at him when he whispered, “Want you to come, Merriell. Want you to cover me with it.” Gene blushed, but it quickly faded when Merriell let out a low, deep, and frantic moan that shot electricity up Gene’s spine. Shelton continued making the same beautiful sound as Gene felt the heat of Shelton’s orgasm hitting his thighs. Gene should’ve been mortified, or perhaps disgusted, but he was unbelievably aroused.

Shelton was rubbing Gene’s back as he finished, “You’re so good for me. So fucking good. So beautiful.” Shelton was whispering. Gene blushed. He was unaccustomed to the amount of praise Shelton was always giving him. “T’es merveilleux. Je t’adore.” Shelton caught his breath and continued whispering praise until his breathing slowed. “Hang on,” He hoisted his pants and shorts back up then headed towards the kitchen. He returned with a wet towel. He cleaned Gene up, kissed his back several times, then left again.

Gene lifted himself off his elbows and went over to fetch his shorts. He’d just finished pulling them up when Shelton returned.

“I liked that,” Gene said to Shelton before Shelton could ask. “Nope. Not liked. I loved that. That was---Jesus christ.”

“Yeah?” Shelton was smiling. The same smile he’d presented to Gene when Gene had told him “Guess I won’t show it to ‘em then,” in Peleliu. Gene favoured that smile. He privately daydreamed about it since the first time he’d seen it. Not at first understanding what it meant when Gene closed his eyes, and that was the first and only image plastered like wallpaper behind his eyelids. When it comforted him more than images of home ever could. That smile held the innocence that Shelton so rarely allowed himself to display or feel. It was Gene’s safety net. It was another present that was only for Gene. If Gene had any artistic capabilities, it’d be his only muse. Every canvas a copy of the last.

“Yeah. If you’d asked me if I wanted to try it, I’d have said you were crazy. So, I’m glad you didn’t ask.” Gene was about to put his pants back on but thought better of it. He moved to grab his pipe and tobacco, then sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen table and began packing it.

“Does it bother you that I don’t tell you?” Shelton disappeared momentarily to get his cigarettes, then lit one up.

“No, I trust you.” Gene was preoccupied with ensuring he didn’t pack the pipe too tightly, or he wouldn’t be able to inhale. So, he wasn’t looking at Shelton as he spoke. Shelton placed a hand on Gene’s chin, lifted Gene’s head, and kissed him. Once Shelton broke the kiss, he gently rubbed the back of his hand on Gene’s cheek.

“I love you,” Shelton smoothed Gene’s hair back, kissed him on the nose.

“I love you too. Very much.” Gene lit his pipe. It was heavenly. He missed the preoccupation of packing and smoking it. He’d regretted leaving it at home. “Thank you for the gift, babe.” Gene said.

“Which one?” Shelton’s smile was devious.

Gene smiled around his pipe. “All of them.”

Merriell laughed. “You want to put your pants on and come outside? S’nice out.” he added.

“Are the pants a condition, or is that a genuine question I can say no to?” Gene asked. Again, making Shelton laugh. Gene’s heart swelled. He loved seeing Merriell so happy.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, chouchou. It’s a free country.” Shelton headed towards the kitchen. Gene was momentarily confused until he heard the backdoor open and close. Gene hadn’t even been in the backyard yet, oddly enough. Gene quickly dressed then headed outside. Shelton was straddling the seat of a picnic bench and looking up at the sky. Gene was so in love with him. That’s all he could think about every time he saw Shelton’s face.

“You’re so handsome.” Gene told him, blowing smoke out as the compliment left his lips. “So incredibly handsome. I think those words every time I see you. It’s like your allurement invades my chest, spreads out, and fills my veins. Until my blood is replaced by how enamored I am with you. Until it’s the only thing keeping my heart pumping.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Eugene.” Merriell was smiling at him, “You gonna write poetry about how pretty I am? Send it to the local papers?” Shelton tried to joke about what Gene had said, but his blush was obvious.

Gene straightened the collar of Shelton’s shirt. “I mean it, you’re beautiful. And I’m so obsessed with you. I’ve never felt this way before, and I won’t make it one second without this feeling.” Shelton’s blush deepened. He took a long drag from his cigarette. He held it. Gene could tell Shelton didn’t know what to say and was stalling. Gene was fine with it. He didn’t need anything in return. If Shelton knew how important he was to Gene, that was all that mattered. Gene saved Shelton from himself, “I need to write to my parents and let them know I’m alive. I don’t know what to say, though.”

Shelton looked a bit relieved. “You could just say that. ‘I’m alive. Love, Gene.’”

Gene laughed, “They have no idea why I chose New Orleans. But Sid knows I was coming here to meet someone. I feel like I need to keep my stories straight.”

“This story is far from straight; I can assure you of that.” Shelton said, smoke poured out of his mouth as he laughed. He stubbed his cigarette out. “Tell them you needed to let your hair down for lady Mardi Gras, and that’s who you were meetin’ up with.”

Gene glared at him, smiling. “Shut up, Merriell. That’s not until February. Help me. I wish I could just tell them the truth. They’re gonna solve the puzzle the second you show up in Mobile with me anyway.”

“I don’t think you should put it in writin’. Even if they suspect later, a suspicion is a lot better than a confession.” Shelton had a point, and Gene knew it. It was dangerous to announce their relationship. Gene wanted to believe his parents would handle it well. That Sid would learn to accept it. If Gene couldn’t guarantee it though, he’d be putting them both at risk. “Maybe just say…Hm, shit, I don’t know. Just say you made it safe. That you found who you were looking for. Leave it at that.”

Gene nodded, “My first letter said just that. The one I ripped up. I guess that’s the best course of action then.”

Shelton nodded, eyeing Gene. “When are you trying to take me to Mobile? I can’t be out of work too long.”

“I don’t know. Thanksgiving?” Gene offered.

“You want to announce to your parents you’re dating a man on Thanksgiving? Do you hate them?” Shelton was looking up at the sky, watching the red and purple hues of the sunset seize the sky.

Gene laughed, “No, but that gives us a month here to decide if you even still like me. Then I want to take you home. I can’t avoid it forever, and it bothers me. I don’t like the unknown. And this is a huge one. If they don’t accept it, or worse, then we just come back here. And at least then I’ll have my answer. They wouldn’t hurt me, and I’d go ballistic if they tried to hurt you. So, the worst that could happen is they kick me out. I was already gone anyway.”

Shelton sighed deeply. “I just want you to be happy, Eugene. Whatever you wanna to do, do it. I don’t know if this is a good idea. I think it could end badly.” Shelton continued gazing at the sky, avoiding eye contact with Gene. Shelton took another deep breath and slowly released it, “But I love you. Really, really, love you. I’d do anything you asked. I’d give you anything.” Shelton looked physically pained, but rather than feel frustrated or hurt, Gene was touched.

Gene kissed him. Lingered, then finally broke contact. “I love you too. I want to take you to Mobile. I just need answers. I can’t live like this without knowing.”

Shelton nodded his head. He turned, swinging his leg over the seat of the bench, and sat with his back resting against the table. He then tugged Gene down to sit beside him. Shelton wrapped an arm around Gene’s shoulder. “Whatever you want, mon coeur.”

“I just want you,” Gene whispered into the evening air. “I’d offer you this whole fuckin’ world if I could.”

They tried to finish watching the sunset, but they were continuously pulled out of their reverie to smack mosquitos. They eventually made a joke it. Thwacking each other occasionally and saying, “Mosquito,” when there clearly wasn’t one. Once Gene couldn’t stand it any longer, he stood to go back inside. He stretched, and Merriell slapped his ass. “Mosquito,” he explained. Gene laughed, gave a return smack to Shelton’s bicep, then headed inside. Gene strolled to the desk and grabbed his pen and paper. He re-lit his pipe and started writing.

“Dear Mom and dad,

I’m safe.”

Gene considered concluding the letter, as Shelton had joked about earlier. What if the remainder of the white page emanated his secrets? Sending ripples of truth through his parents’ fingertips as they held it. The vacant page was a metaphor for the chunks of himself he gouged out. Would they consequently understand how he held funerals and fashioned gravestones for the love he buried? Just to please the rest of the world. To please them. He reluctantly continued.

“I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. However, if I ever hoped to find peace, I needed to pursue the person I ventured to Louisiana for. I couldn’t stand being in Mobile without them.

I’ve been thinking about you, but I didn’t know what to write. I hoped neither of you took my absence personally. I never meant to worry or hurt either of you. I just needed time to figure myself out. How I’ve changed. What to do with who I’ve become. Though, I think I’ve finally begun to uncover the pieces. I wanted to share this serenity with both of you, and I hoped I could travel home for Thanksgiving. I’d like to bring someone with me if you’d have them.

Love,

Gene”

Gene read the letter several times. He ensured his pronouns and details were vague enough to guarantee his and Shelton’s safety. He worried momentarily about announcing he was in Louisiana, but Sid might’ve already told them. More so, they’d have Merriell’s address from the envelope anyway. Gene hoped confirming his safety would prevent his parents from sending someone to collect him. Although, Gene was sure Sid would protect him, should his parents attempt it.

Merriell had moseyed into the house while Gene was proofreading, so he pushed the letter towards Shelton. As Merriell started reading, Gene grabbed another piece of paper.

“Dear Greaser,

How are you? I’m safe and sound in Louisiana. I wanted to thank you again for the money, and for coaxing me onto the train. I’m hoping to come home for Thanksgiving, and I’d like to bring someone home with me. Would you—”

“Sounds okay,” Shelton said, setting the letter back down on the table. “I read it a couple times. It’s….it’ll be alright.”

Gene nodded. He was unsure whether he should continue with what he was going to ask Sid to do. But he didn’t know how else he’d reach home otherwise. “Would you pick us up from the station if I receive the okay from my parents?” Gene was sweating just thinking about it. Sid would be expecting this beautiful woman to step off the train. Instead, he’d see a beautiful man. A lovely, scowling, Merriell Shelton. Gene imagined Sid having a heart attack right there at the station. His tombstone would read, “Survived war, died from shock thanks to Eugene Sledge.” Gene wondered if Sid and Shelton would recognize each other from their brief encounter. Gene doubted it.

“Is this okay?” Gene shoved the letter towards Merriell then puffed on his pipe anxiously. Gene watched Merriell’s face as he reached the section about Sid picking them up. Both Shelton’s eyebrows shot skyward. Eyes wide. Shelton looked at Gene.

“Are you serious?” Shelton said. There was no malice in his tone. It was a genuine question.

Gene shrugged. “I trust him. He’s my best friend.” He supplemented.

Shelton didn’t look convinced. He set the letter down on top of the one for Gene’s parents. “I hope you have the most understanding parents and best friend in all of Alabama, mon amour.”

Gene felt a bit queasy. Nevertheless, he’d always known his father and Sid to be understanding. They’d always stood up for him. And his mother could be sympathetic if it benefited her enough. But, if he was being honest, he was least concerned with her approval. He supposed that was an awful thing to say, but it was the truth. Gene chewed on a fingernail, then shoved one letter, and then the other, into their envelopes before he could change his mind.

“I shouldn’t have ripped up the first letters. They were much more discrete than these.” Gene remarked.

“Oh good. Excellent. Glad to hear it.” Shelton said, and Gene laughed heartily.

“I don’t care, Merriell. I don’t fuckin’ care anymore. I’m a fuckin’ adult. I survived the damn war. I can do what I want. And they’ll either accept it or lose me in the process. I don’t think either my father or Sid would risk it.”

Shelton shrugged a shoulder, “I’m not arguin’ with you. Like I said, you do what’s best for that lovely brain of yours. I’ll just follow you around, putting out fires as you need me to. If I got to thrash your father and Sid simultaneously on Thanksgiving, then I will.”

Gene was laughing, “You will not. It won’t come to that.”

“I sure hope not.” Merriell again seemed unconvinced.

#sledgefu #sledge/shelton #shelton/sledge #uhhhhhh #filthy smut #Fluff #Idiots in love #stolperzunge #Translations are on AO3 because I am lazy

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years

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CSI:Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Serial Cereal Killer

Episode 2- A Sequins Of Unfortunate Events

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: Contains some sequins and a dumbass Steve as we flash back to THAT night (which is why most of it is in italics) and we see the real reason Katie’s a little pissed at him! Fasten your belts, this is a long one but we think it’s worth it. Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (in an elevator and then in a bedroom) NSFW and no under 18s. A bit of angst and feelings and…yeah, stooped with two os. LONG episode but necessary cos, well, when is smut not needed???

Episode Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (yeah she likes his ass in this episode but only because it’s mostly a flashback…and we challenge anyone not to want to shake him hard at the end!)

Song for Episode: Slow Hands by Niall Horan

A/N: This entire series contains dark humour (CSI + Brooklyn 99=CSI Steeb) Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read the SSB series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from so somethings might puzzle a few of you if you ain’t, but feel free to ask.

Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

Oh and I just wanna give some BIG recognition for my lovely co-writer…she’s written most of this Episode. (I just provided the smut and some editing coz I’m a ho!) And it’s beautiful and clever and she deserves some praise especially as English isn’t her first language!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List

“Hey Cap…” Thor nodded to Steve as he approached the bar where most of his team were stood, chatting.

“Hi fellas…can I get any of you a drink?”

They all nodded and thanked him, stating their orders. Steve turned to pay and at that point he heard Thor give a low whistle

“Holy shit…” he mumbled at the same time Clint also cursed.

“Damned…she looks good!”

“Oh for fucks sake come on guys…” Tony let out a sigh “That’s my little sister! Epically not cool.” Steve took a breath and turned to glance at Katie, his eyes widening. He couldn’t argue with Clint or Thor, she looked good. Better than good actually, stunning even. She was dressed in a tight, long sleeved green sequinned dress that was pretty damned short now he studied it. Not that he was complaining, particularly when she turned to speak to someone and he got a glimpse of how it curved over her shapely ass perfectly, leaving her toned legs on display, which looked even longer thanks to the patent black high-heel courts she was wearing. She continued her path into the room, her two-toned (“It’s called balayage, Stevie, you idiot!”) honey and dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in wave after wave of shiny, brunette locks which bounced as she walked, and he could see all the way from where he was that her eyes were lidded with some kind of gold sparkle and her lips were a dark, blood red.

Fuck! It was enough to make his pants feel tight. Really tight in fact. Steve thought she was pretty anyway, he’d be blind not to notice, and he’d seen her dolled up on so many occasions but tonight…well, tonight was something else.

She stopped, smiling and grinned, giving Romanoff a hug and the two women headed over to a table to the right.

“You’re catching flies…” Sam’s voice whispered in Steve’s ear. Steve turned instantly to look at him.

“No, that’s…I wasn’t…”

“You don’t have to pretend to me, man.” Sam grinned, taking the beer that Steve passed him as he dished the drinks out. “Pretty obvious you got feelings for the girl that go beyond friendship.”

Steve sighed and looked at Sam, preparing some kind of denial but he didn’t get the chance.

“You know she feels the same way, right?” Sam asked, “I can tell by the way she eye fucks you every time you’re in the same room.” “Sam.” Steve nearly choked on his bottle “Stop.”

“I’m just saying…” Sam grinned, “Tis the season for giving after all, if you get my drift…”

“Jesus…” Steve mumbled as Sam winked, turning to talk to Tony.

Steve fell into a conversation with Bruce, Clint and Thor about their plans for the holidays. Clint and his family were heading over to Minnesota to his in-laws, Thor was going to his Girlfriends seeing as this was the first Christmas his brother would spend behind bars, something that Steve could tell the man was a little bit upset about.

“You gotta admit.” Bruce looked at Thor, “Your brother…man, he’s not all there. His brain is a bag of cats.” “He’s still my brother.”

“Man, he killed 18 people in 2 days.” Clint looked at him.

“He’s adopted.” Thor shrugged.

“Did you forget the rest of your clothes or…” Steve heard Tony’ quip and turned round to see Katie stood in front of her brother. “I can see what you had for breakfast young lady.”

“Piss off Tony.” she shot back, and he quirked an eyebrow, looking at Sam.

“Rude.” he mumbled.

“I think you look great.” Sam said, “Doesn’t she Steve?”

Steve shot Sam a filthy look before he turned to his best friend, smiling “Stunning, as always.” “Smooth Rogers.” she grinned at him, making a deal of looking him up and down “Looking pretty fly yourself!”

He glanced down at the light blue button down he was wearing underneath a tweed blazer, coupled with dark Diesel Jeans and brown brogue boots before looking at her, grinning cheekily “Well my best friend is also my self-appointed stylist and she knows her stuff, what can I say?”

“You can thank her by buying her a drink.” Katie winked back and Steve laughed, turning to order her a martini. “Gin…” “Not vodka, yeah I know…” he finished for her as she bumped her hip against his. She curled and arm round his waist and he found his dropping round her shoulder, giving her a friendly squeeze before they released one another.

As always happens at parties, everyone started to drift off to speak to people they knew and take the time to catch up. Katie and Steve remained at the bar and the party was in full swing by the time Katie finished her drink and Steve drained his second beer. She ordered them another round as Steve took a quick look around. The hip, rooftop bar they were in, The Westlight, was located in the William Vale, a 5 star hotel in the heart of the City, and it was crammed with people celebrating. This year the local authorities of New York had decided to indulge Brooklyn security forces and had decided to throw an over the top Christmas party for both 99th and 101st units of NYPD and the Brooklyn section of New York's Fire Department and had hired the entire bar. Katie had joked about getting a room in the hotel simply so she could pretend she was a right high-roller for a night and a day but had soon balked at the fact they were over $300. Mind you, Steve had to give it to them. The views the place offered of the New York Sky Line was something else.

It almost made up for the obscene prices at the bar. Almost.

With a thanks he took the beer that was slid his way and they resumed their conversation, talk between the pair of them easy as always, and they launched into a discussion about Steve’s new car which he had collected earlier that day.

“So you drove?” Katie looked at him and he shrugged “Dude, it’s the Christmas party…” “Yeah and I can leave it here if I decide to.” Steve shrugged “It’ll be safe enough with the valet...” “Why didn’t you just get a cab?” “Hey, look, I’ve been waiting 12 weeks for that baby.” he said, looking at her “I wanted to drive it.” “You know, your obsession with cars is kinda a little bit sad” she grinned.

“I could say the same thing about you and shoes.” “Hey, at least my obsession fits in a wardrobe…”

“Yeah, they also fit in my hand when I end up carrying them, and you, home from a night out when you can’t walk in them anymore…” he looked at her.

She narrowed her eyes playfully and was about to quip something back when they were interrupted.

"Having fun Kiddo?" Tony asked and Katie turned to her brother as he made a gesture to her with his hand "Just roll with me." he mouthed.

Katie smiled and raised an eyebrow at him. "What's up with you, Tone?" she asked amused, sharing a side glance with Steve who was now also smiling at Tony's awkward face.

"Shhh, trying to get rid of..." he was about to explain but was interrupted by an overexcited Peter Parker.

"Whooooa, this party is pretty awesome Mr. Stark! Don't you think?" he piped. "I mean, this is... Look at all those people, they are... there are hundreds of them, and the place is just..." he continued babbling while grabbing Tony by his arm and looking all around him.

"Yeah, you're very articulate, aren't you?" Tony deadpanned.

Katie giggled softly "Glad you're having fun Peter."

Peter, who hadn't noticed that Tony stood beside Katie and Steve by the bar, turned to her and couldn't help but check her out in awe "Oh my God! Katie, I mean, Miss Stark, you look hot!"

Katie started laughing like crazy after Peter's remark and Steve shook his head at him with a grin.

“Ok Underoos, time to shut up that squealing mouth of yours before I stick a coaster down your throat." Tony said glaring at him, picking up a bar mat from the surface and waving it threateningly in Peter’s direction.

Peter, who was now blushing fiercely, tried to come up with an apology "Oh, I'm sorry Miss Stark, you're not hot…”

Katie was looking at Peter with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on her face, she had a soft spot for the boy. Tony was now getting annoyed and rolled his eyes "Oh, come on...."

"Sorry, that's not what I meant, I mean yeah you look hot,... Oh, God... I mean, you look great tonight Miss Stark...." he stuttered and turned to Steve who now gave him a wide smile.

"Peter." he greeted the kid.

"Cap…Captain" he greeted back a mixture of shyness at his boss and embarrassment for the ongoing conversation he was trying to get back on the right track much to Tony's dismay.

“Just Steve outside the station Peter…” Steve smiled at him.

It was then that Sam approached the group, bottle of beer in his hand and moving his head to the beat of the music which was blasting from the speakers all over the club.

"Is he misbehaving?" he asked Tony, Katie and Steve with a fake serious face."Are you misbehaving, kid?" he turned to Peter now patting him on the back. "You know you get cranky when you don't get your juice box."

"Yeah, kid's on a sugar rush." Tony quipped.

"Ok, let's get you some hot cocoa short stack." Sam offered.

"I'm not a kid Mr Wilson, you know I'm 21..." Peter started rambling again as Sam took him by his arm and both disappeared among the sea of people.

"If you excuse me, gentlemen, I'm going to greet some people" Katie said to Tony and Steve as she also started to make her way towards a group of people who were perched on a table by the large windows which looked out over the City.

Steve waved her goodbye "See you, later". And turned to Tony who was now ordering his third tumbler of Scotch and one for Bruce who joined them moments later. Steve found himself trying to pay attention to what the two men were telling him, but although he was nodding and humming in agreement with Tony's bragging and Bruce’s slightly more modest chat, he didn't have a clue to what either man was saying.

He couldn't keep his eyes off Katie. He had tried but failed spectacularly. He was continuously gazing in her direction where she was now talking to her former friends from the 99th. Peralta, Diaz, Boyle and Jeffers welcomed her immediately, Jeffers standing up to give her a huge hug before he she slid onto the bench seat next to him, joining in the conversation. A few moments later, Boone from the NYFD sauntered over and the table greeted him and he made to sit down and join them, which was quite funny to Steve as he knew from Katie’s tales that Peralta and him had a long history of confrontations.

But what wasn’t funny to Steve was the next man that joined them. Steve hadn't seen him before so he presumed the guy was from the Fire Department, which seemed to be confirmed when he reached over, shaking Boone’s hand before Boone proceeded to gesture around the table. Mystery man then shook everyone’s hand in turn, but when it came to Katie he saw the man’s entire body language change and he kissed the back of her hand before gesturing to the seat next to her. She nodded, smiling and moved up slightly to allow him to sit down.

Steve watched as they struck up a conversation and the sight of the tall, well-built, really quite handsome man leaning over to say something into her ear was enough to send Steve to a place he had never been before, certainly not when it came to his best friend. Was it protectiveness, annoyance at the memory of shitweasel Ward? Was it concern about her safety, after all she didn’t know the guy did she? Was it exasperation at the guy's bold mannerisms as his arm curled round the back of the bench she was sat on, his entire body angled towards her? Was it uneasiness due to the fact that she actually seemed to be pretty comfortable around the guy and looked like she was enjoying the attention? Was it....?

Oh God, it was, wasn't it? It suddenly struck him like lightning.

"Are you Ok, Cap?" he heard Tony ask him. "You're staring blankly at us and clenching you jaw. I mean, I know the gadgets Brucey and I have put together are pretty awesome, but still..."

Steve swallowed thickly before he composed himself. "Excuse me Tony, Bruce…need to find the restroom."

With that he started walking away from the men, heading to the door that led to the outside roof terrace, not looking back. He pushed the door open, the cold December air hitting him like a sledge hammer, but he hardly noticed. He was too busy trying to make sense of the million and one thoughts which were careering through his brain, but no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise, it was no use. He knew exactly what that feeling that had swept over him when he’d watched Katie was.

He was jealous.

If he was being perfectly honest, it wasn’t the fact that he was jealous that had him so distressed, it was the realization that all those feelings he had been harbouring for Katie over the last ten years had hit him right between the eyes when he least expected them.

Steve leaned his arms on the railing of the balcony and ducked his head between them, letting out a oft groan. His mind was wandering back and forth in time, searching a rational explanation for what he was feeling. But what can be explained rationally when it comes to feelings? He closed his eyes and sighed. Feelings developed slowly, didn't they? They didn't just hit you all at once in a bar in Brooklyn just because a pretty girl made one hell of an entrance in a tight sequined number.

He straightened himself and gazed into the beautifully lit skyline of the city, his analytical mind working at full speed, roaming through all those years he had known Katie. Ten years. Ten years they had been friends, best friends even. So close that everyone laughed at the fact that they seemed just like a married couple.

And now that he came to think of it there were those small things that would likely have given him away in the eyes of others all through that time. How he hated Ward for starters, he had never trusted him. How he would look away whenever he kissed her or even hugged her. Katie had teased him about PDAs making him uncomfortable but it wasn’t that. It was because those particular ones did.

He had never been uncomfortable around Katie, in fact he had quite liked all those funny little feelings he got when she laughed or teased him, flirted with him slightly in the way she always did. He smiled remembering how he had flushed whenever she behaved like that with him, it was a warming feeling that had made his cheeks red every now and then that he had simply put down to awkwardness or embarrassment. But it was nothing of the sort, it was just him having feelings for Katie, and those feelings had been there for some time now.

Almost ten years in fact. So, when he thought about it, it had been a pretty slow burn after all.

"Fuck" he whispered at the realization Sam had hit the nail on the head.

What now? How did he act on those feelings? That is if he should act on them in the first place. What was that Sam had said? Did she have feelings for him too? Did he want to know? Too many questions and the only thing he knew for sure was that he wasn't gonna get an answer to any of them out there. He decided to get himself together, go back inside and play it cool. As cool as he could manage that is, considering that the scrawny Brooklyn kid he once was usually liked to make an appearance in situations like this.

He could do this…he could do this… get it together Rogers.

He pushed himself back from the railing and turned round

"Let's see how it goes" he whispered to himself before opening the door that led back to the bar.

He needed a drink was the first thing he thought while he made his way through the people, greeting some colleagues and acquaintances alongside. Yup, some Dutch courage…even if he still had no idea to what purpose.

He found Bruce, Thor and James Rhodes, or Rhodey as they called him, Head of Relations with the Press, by the bar. When he reached the three men, he ordered another beer from the barman gesturing with his hand.

"Gentlemen." Steve greeted them. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"Yeah, some more than others." Rhodey pointed with his head to Thor who had now his left arm and head slumped on the bar counter.

Bruce, who was looking at a certain redhead dancing the night away in the middle of the dance floor with Wanda, Rosa, Gina and Amy from the 99, turned to see what Rhodey was talking about and asked "Is he sleeping?"

"No, I'm pretty sure he's dead." Rhodey deadpanned.

And with that Thor snored and woke himself up, stumbling on the stool he was half seated. Steve scoffed and swept his eyes around the club searching for Katie only to find her still seated chatting with the fancy fireman. He turned around to face the counter and grab his beer in an attempt to calm himself and steady his hands. He saw Thor's now empty glass there, in an almost reflex action he took one of the ice cubes that still hadn't melt and put it in his mouth, munching it instantly, the crunch satisfying.

Bruce looked at him at the sound of his teeth and jaws grinding ice and with a raised eyebrow asked "What's with you and ice?"

"Childhood trauma." he said sharply.

"Yeah, I get it. I still have issues with green veggies." Bruce said shyly. "They still make me angry."

"You seem quite a calm guy" Steve said now smiling at Bruce.

"No, that's my secret Cap, I'm always angry." Bruce retorted.

They suddenly heard a loud thud and looked down finding Thor, who had slipped from the stool, sprawled on the floor.

"Now, he's dead." Rhodey said laughing while Steve, Bruce and Sam, who had come to the rescue, helped the big man up.

"I'm good. I'm good." Thor said and started dancing to the music and singing loudly, and out of tune, to the song that was playing while giving a thumbs up to the DJ in the cabin.

"What's that awful noise?" Tony who had now joined the small group asked.

"Blondie here, murdering song after song." Rodney replied.

"Thor! Thor!" Tony called. "Thor, for fuck sake, will you please stop squealing? You think you're a full tilt diva but your voice is hitting on my head like a hammer!"

Thor stopped singing but continued moving his arms and head and stomping his feet to the rhythm of the music. Steve laughed softly at the clumsy ways of such a big man and when he looked up he smiled at the vision of Clint approaching them the team ladies in tow.

"Heads up, everybody" Clint yelled impersonating some kind of MC, "Let's have a toast for the 101st."

"Sure thing" Tony said gesturing to the barman and ordering a drink for everybody to toast.

Steve tensed up when he felt Katie by his side, her arm brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

"Having fun, Cap?" she asked with a playful smile.

"Not as much as you." he replied face-palming himself internally at his own reply.

He saw Katie look at him with a frown and her mouth wide open. She was about to ask him something, probably what had come over him, but she couldn't as at that very moment Tony came back with a tray full of champagne flutes for everyone.

"Ok, raise your glasses everyone and let's hear it for the Brooklyn 101" Clint yelled.

"For the Brooklyn 101" everybody yell back clinking glasses and sipping from them.

They all turned at the loud sound of a glass breaking and saw Thor grinning as he looked at the shards on the floor, before he glanced up and with a huge bellow shouted "Another!"

The staff of the club, however, weren't that willing to laugh at Thor's shenanigans as they came to gather the broken glass to avoid someone being badly cut. Clint, Sam and Rhodey took Thor outside to breath some fresh air. Natasha dragged Wanda and Bruce back to the dance floor. And Tony went to the restroom or as he put it, to take a leak.

Now that they were alone Katie pulled on Steve's hand and headed for a more secluded table at the far end of the club. He let her tug him along and settled onto the bench besides her.

"Ok, what was that about?" she shot at him.

"What was what?" Steve asked trying to avoid giving her a straight answer, allowing him a moment to think about how he was going to play his cards. Was he going to play them? His mind was in turmoil. He felt a bit dizzy, he had had too many beers, he knew. Luckily, that nutrition programme he took part in during college had gifted him some sort of increased metabolism which prevented him from getting overly drunk, well, Thor scale of drunk anyway, that was unless he hit the hard stuff.

"You know what I mean Steve, don't play dumb with me." Katie was raising her voice now.

"I only said you seemed to be enjoying the company." Steve shrugged trying to appear relaxed.

"Of course I was! It's been a while since I'd been able to catch up with the boys." she said. "I was having a great time watching Peralta and Boone roast each other." She laughed. "See what I did there." She winked.

Steve merely raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh! Wait.." Katie smiled amused. "You're talking about.... Yes, you are, aren't you?"

Steve didn't answer, he continued looking at her, not sure if he wanted to know more about the mystery fancy fireman.

"He's a friend Steve, well sort of, we hadn't actually met before tonight." Katie said softly like she was talking to an angry child.

Steve frowned, not understanding how one can be friends with someone and have never actually met.

"His brother in law is friends with Tony, freak scientists stuff..." Katie explained now. "You must have heard about him, Reed.... Reed Richards?"

Steve stared blankly at her, trying to match a face with that name in his mind.

“He developed a lot of the forensics awareness training new officers do.” she said.

“Ah, yeah…vaguely…” Steve nodded, the image of a tall, dark haired man crossed his mind.

"Johnny is a fireman, he works under Boone’s chain." Katie continued while stirring her drink with the straw. "He seems nice, we've only been chatting..." she suddenly stopped and looked up at Steve. "Hang on! Why am I explaining myself to you anyway?" she asked squinting her eyes at Steve.

Steve hesitated for a few seconds and was about to provide her with a feasible answer that would soothe her when he felt someone slap him on his back.

"Hey, Cap" Tony squealed and turned to face his sister.

"Been talking to Fury, kiddo. The Pirate says you're considering DC after all." he said looking at Katie trying to keep his legs steady and leaning on her shoulder. "Warn a brother next time, will you? You made me look like a fool." he slurred and turned to the dance floor trying to focus his sight.

"Hey, Bruce, good moves..." he said now leaving the friends sat there, walking off to join his team mates on the dancefloor, moving his arms suggestively over his head.

"What was that?" Steve snapped. "About DC? You've made your mind up?"

"I'd be stupid not to go. But hey, nothing's set up in stone. I'm just considering it" she answered trying to lighten up the mood.

"I didn't think you'd be serious about the role." Steve demeanour was getting bleaker.

"Why?" Katie asked frowning at him. "Of course, I'm serious, Steve. You told me there's no Sergeant vacancy in the unit, not as a Detective and I don't wanna go back to uniform."

"I know. It's just I didn't think they would actually offer it to you." he said now trying to sound as convincing as possible.

He wasn't prepared to let her go. To let her leave him. Not now. What if? What if history repeats? Peggy left him for the chance of pursuing higher ranks at the force. She had broken him and now he wasn't sure if he would be able to cope with Katie leaving him as well. He had known Katie way more years than he had known Peggy after all.

"You didn’t think they’d offer it to me? Why’s that, Steve?" Katie was getting visibly annoyed now. "Because I'm not good enough?"

"No! That's not what I meant!" Steve couldn't help but yell back.

"That’s the second time you spoken to me out of turn tonight" she said, her nostrils flaring. "I'm done."

Katie stood up and pushed between him and the table, grabbing her purse and stalking over the room heading for the door.

Steve fumbled a bit and watched her go away. "Shit" he yelled behind gritted teeth. Slamming his beer back onto the table he jumped up and started to walk towards the door, needing to catch her before it was too late.

On his way across the dance floor, well a straight line is always the fastest way to your target, he heard Tony say "Uh-oh, Kiddo rant scale currently at 7..." while Natasha turned to Clint and deadpanned "They need to bone and get it out of their system."

Just what he needed to hear now. Damned his better than normal hearing. Steve emerged into the entrance hall of the bar floor but there was no trace of Katie. He looked up and saw the light of the elevator signalling it was going down. With no time to spare he opened the door that lead to the stairs and rushed down two steps at a time.

When he reached the ground floor he was panting as he burst through the door into the lobby of the hotel and stopped in his tracks as he spotted Katie putting on her coat by the reception desk. Thank God, her stop at the cloakroom had provided him with a few precious minutes.

He walked to the reception trying to make up his mind on what to say. When he caught up with her, he heard her ask for a cab to the receptionist.

"Cancel that." he said to the receptionist.

"Don't you dare." she looked at the receptionist.

"Cancel it!" he said again, his voice this time stern.

“Grrr!” with an angry growl she turned and glared at him "Fuck off, Steve." she snarled and started to walk to the main door "You're an asshole." she said before stepping out and slamming the door, not caring if she nearly clipped Steve's face.

Steve followed her and grabbed her arm. "Come here." he said taking her away from the brightly lit area by the main entrance to the hotel to a more intimate spot a bit further along that was slightly dimmer.

Katie flinched slightly at the strength of his grip and Steve noticed and let her loose. "I'm sorry." he said raising his palms. "I'm sorry, doll" he said again. "Just talk to me, right?"

"Why don't you support me? I thought of all the people you'd be the most thrilled about me having this opportunity, Steve." she said wrapping her coat around her chest, a hurt look in her eyes.

"Of course, I support you." Steve said quietly. "You're an amazing Detective. It's not that..." he hesitated, not knowing how to carry on.

"Then, what is it? Explain it to me because you've been acting weird all night" she said her green eyes pleading him.

He was well damned fucked. Point of no return.

"When I told you about that opportunity last month, you were all for it so I applied, so what changed?" she continued trying to make her point seeing as he wasn't saying anything.

Steve closed his eyes for a few seconds and then opened them again.

"You" he simply said.

"Me? I've changed?" Katie asked not understanding what he was trying to say.

"No. Not you..." he paused before continuing. "God, this is messy..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "The way I see you." he finally said looking directly into those beautiful green eyes. “That’s changed.”

"Oh" Katie managed to mutter. She was suddenly silent, searching into his blue eyes. After a moment, which seemed an eternity to Steve, she stepped forward and whispered.

"Say it."

"Say what?" Steve asked still looking into her eyes.

"Use your words, Stevie. Tell me what you mean." she softly encouraged him.

Oh God, that damned pet name…

"Can I ask you a question?" he said, licking his lips nervously.

"You just did, but I'll give you another go." she smiled.

He rolled his eyes but smiled back at her before saying "Sam told me before... that you have..." he paused.

"That I have what?" she asked.

"That you have feelings for me." he finished.

"Oh" she simply said, her eyes wide. Her cheeks flushed and she bit her lower lip. "Did he? Are those gonna be his last words?" she said with a shy smile not losing contact with his eyes.

"Is it true?" he asked, a tinge of hope in his words, bolstered by the fact she hadn’t denied it. "Do you feel it too? I mean, when we're hanging around, when we spend time together? Because it feels more to me, like we’re more than just friends…"

"I feel it when you're not around, Stevie." she said gently, cutting him off. Her eyes still locked onto his.

Steve breath hitched at her admission, a shy smile spread across his face.

"Steve, I..." she started to say but fell into silence, her face was now really flushed and so was her neck, in the way it always did when she was feeling slightly awkward or embarrassed or excited.

"Use your words, doll." he said softly, smiling at her. His attempt to ease the tension worked and she giggled and looked down, tucking her hair behind both her ears before she glanced back up at him, desire now sparkling in her eyes.

"Steve, I've liked you since the day we met. I think you're the most amazing person in the world. You're gorgeous inside and out..." she breathed deeply before continuing "After everything, well you make me feel safe like.... like I'm home…I just never thought in a million years that a guy like you would ever look at me like that.”

Now it was Steve who fell deadly silent. He pondered Katie's words for a moment and gave her a shy side smile. “You have no idea how beautiful you are do you?”

She gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head as she looked down muttering the word “Charmer.” as he reached out and gently tipped her head up so she was looking at him. His eyes bounced across both of hers for a second or so before he gently tilted her face up, angling her head. The distance between them closed…until she was knocked sideways, stumbling a little. He caught her and turned to glare at the culprit.

“Heyyyy!” Boyle smiled, swinging his arms out to the side “Didn’t see you there…” “He’s drunk…” Peralta apologised, “And so am I…we’re gonna get food…” Katie nodded at them both and with the hand that was curled around her waist, Steve gently squeezed her hip.

“NINE NINE!” Peralta yelled, punching the air as he left, Boyle whooping and repeating the chant as he tripped slightly before they rounded the corner. As they disappeared from sight Steve bent over and softly spoke into her ear.

“Shall I take you home, Doll?”

“Thought you were never gonna ask…” she said, not looking at him. He squeezed her hip again and together they strode back towards the valet, reaching into his wallet for the ticket, neither of them saying a word.

As soon as she was in the car she kicked off her shoes and let out a groan. “My feet are killing me…” she said, placing her feet up in front of her. She looked around the inside of the car, not actually having been inside it yet seeing as he had only picked it up that afternoon and gave a hum of appreciation.

“It’s nice…not as sexy as your mustang but I like it.” she said.

“Sweetheart, I haven’t had that mustang in years” he chuckled.

“Yeah I know.” she sighed “I liked that car, I still can’t believe you got rid of it.”

“Thought it was time I grew up a little…” he shrugged, looking at her.

“You’ll be driving around in a Prius soon, like Brian off Family Guy…” “Piss off…” he laughed as she let out a chuckle, flexing her dainty painted toes as they rest on the leather of the dash.

“Where did you this one from again?”

“It was imported from Germany, now get your feet off the dash.” She looked at him, a coy smirk on her face and moved her long legs one by one, placing her feet in the foot well. How the fuck she made such a simple movement as much of a turn on as she did, he had no idea. Had she always been such a teasing minx?

The rest of the car drive was spent in a comfortable silence. Well, as comfortable as it can be with a semi-lob on. His fingers were impatiently tapping on the arm rest between them and Katie reached out and pulled his hand onto her lap, gently running her finger tips over his knuckles as his palm lay against the bare, warm skin of her thigh. His jeans began to feel even tighter and it was all he could do to stop his hand wandering further up her skirt as he drove. Every so often she’d shoot him a knowing look, her eyes sparkling, and he’d simply grin back, or try and ignore her, keeping his eyes on the road.

Thankfully her place was nearer than his so he found a spare space outside her block and climbed out, opening the passenger side for her.

“Thanks.” she said, her voice quiet but oh so loaded and fuck, it made his trouser predicament even worse. He walked behind her, up the few steps into her building where she unlocked the door and dropped her keys into her pocket. His arm once more around her waist, they waited impatiently for the elevator.

No sooner had the elevator doors shut than Steve's final tendril of self-control snapped and he spun, pushing Katie back by her shoulders. She let out a soft squeak of surprise as his hand slid up to the back of her head, fingers winding into her hair, holding her face steady. There was a split second where she gazed up at him, her eyes bright with a lust he had never seen before, and then she bit her bottom lip and he was done for. Their lips met and God it was everything he had imagined it to be, and more. His lips massaged against hers, softly at first but then he felt her hands sliding up round his neck as she pulled him to her harder, and Steve couldn't help the soft groan that left his mouth. He felt her lips curve into a smirk and he took the chance, tongue sweeping across her bottom lip. Obligingly she gave him what he wanted, and depend the kiss even more, her mouth opening to grant him access. She tasted slightly sweet, the remnants of her last drink invaded his senses as his tongue fought hers for dominance and holy fucking shit he didn’t ever think he'd ever been kissed like this before in his life.

Pressing into her more he moved his hands to gently grab at her hips, hands dropping to her ass where he hauled her up, pressing her back into the elevator wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed up against her, hands gently creeping up the hem of her dress, fingers softly caressing the outside of her thighs and his lips moved from hers to the pulse point of her neck and she gave a soft, sultry sigh. Steve knew he was an absolute gonner and he couldn’t help but react to her noises and movements by pushing against her and the noise she made as his denim clad crotch rubbed up against the fabric of her underwear was fucking sinful. His cock twitched and somewhere in his brain his logical mind desperately fought for a shard of restraint because they were still in fucking elevator after all... But it was her that stopped, quite suddenly too. Steve felt her tap him lightly on his shoulder and he moved from where he had been softly nipping at her neck to look at her, questioningly, wondering if she was having second thoughts. She bit her lip and nodded behind him which made him turn, and he saw the elevator door had opened and a small, blonde woman was looking at the pair of them, eyebrow raised, mouth dropped in slightly shock. "Shit." Steve mumbled as Katie gave a very un-ladylike snort as he set her on her feet. He bent down to retrieve her purse for her as she straightened out her dress. She took the purse in one hand and reached for his with her other, lacing her fingers between his. As they passed she nodded to the woman and said her name, but all too late Steve realised he hadn't heard it as his brain was still trying to catch up. Not wanting to be rude he nodded to the woman "Neighbour..." "Have a good evening..." she replied, not even bothering to hide the smirk from her face. "Did you seriously just say neighbour?" Katie snorted as she crossed the hall towards her door. "Well I don't know her name..." he said as she turned to face him.

"What?" She blinked, shaking her head. "Sharon! I literally said it like 3 seconds ago!" "And you think I was listening?" He said, arching an eyebrow as he placed both hands on the door, palms flat at either side of her head, caging her with his strong arms. His face was inches from hers again and she grinned "You gonna give me a chance to find my keys or just kick my door in?" With an arch of his eyebrow his left hand slid into the right pocket of her coat, and he pulled them out, hanging them in front of her face. Not taking her eyes off his she reached out to take them, before turning around to slip the key in the lock. Steve gently swept her hair off her neck and trailed hot kisses up towards her ear. With a sigh she rolled her head to the side as his mouth grazed a path to her jaw line before he placed a soft kiss at the side of her mouth.

“Open the door sweetheart” he said, his voice low and she jerked back into action, turning the key. Steve leaned over, pushing the door open and she stepped inside, Steve following. The door opened into the hallway which was dimly lit by a lamp on the table to the side of the door. Katie tossed her keys onto it, along with her purse as Steve clicked the door shut, leaning back on it as he watched her turn to him, eyes heavy as she looked up at him. There was a moment’s pause before he stepped forwards, hands creeping up to cradle her face as he gently pressed his lips to hers, the kiss a stark contrast to the urgent ones they’d shared moments before. Soft, sensual, his large hands caressing the side of her cheeks and neck as she leaned up into him eagerly. The kiss broke and he ran his nose against hers, pulling back slightly.

“You sure?” he said, his voice a whisper, needing to know she still wanted to go through with this, cross that final line. Without a word she turned, tugging on his hand, leading him to the right down the hall towards her room. As the reached the doorway he pulled her back towards him, spinning her round making her giggle as she fell into his chest, his arms wrapping around her as he bent to kiss her again, the pair of them blindly stumbling into the room, which is when Steve felt a searing pain in his shin as it collided pain fully with the wooden doorframe.

“Mother fucker…” he cursed, releasing Katie as he bent to rub at his shin, hopping on one leg into the room as Katie laughed whilst a plethora of curses that would make a sailor blush tumbled from his lips.

“Awww want me to kiss it better?” she teased as she undid her coat and tossed it over the back of the chair that sat in front of her vanity unit.

“Oh, you’re gonna kiss summink…” he snarked back as he kicked the door to the room shut, smirking at the look on her face as she arched an eyebrow.

“Very presumptuous of you Captain.” she teased.

“Think we’re a bit past the presuming stage don’t you?” he said, closing the distance between them again, on arm snaking round her waist as he pulled her back to him. Her hands ran up his chest to the lapels on his jacket as she pushed it back off his shoulders and Steve moved his arms allowing it to fall to the floor. Next she was working at his shirt, tugging the bottom of it out of his jeans as his mouth claimed hers again, hungrily. He felt the soft brush of her fingers as she worked the buttons undone, pushing it open and her warm hands slid over the planes of his stomach, travelling slightly downward towards the buckle of his jeans.

“ah ah…” he said, breaking the kiss and grabbing at her hands. “Your turn…”

“But I’m only wearing one thing…” she pouted, looking up at him. “You’re like…”

“You have an argument for everything…” he said, his hands sliding up the back of her dress, feeling for the zip.

“Do not.” she shot back and he sighed in exasperation.

“Argumentative brat, as always…look, does this thing even have a zip?”

She laughed, “No…”

He reached down to grab the hem, her breath catching slightly as his fingers brushed against her thighs but he didn’t argue as she held her arms up to allow him to pull the dress over her head. Steve gently reached out to brush her tousled, long waves back off her face before he glanced down, swallowing at the sight of her stood before him in heels and a matching black lace lingerie set.

“Fuck…” he mumbled, his hands reaching down to her hips, pulling her back flush to his body, kissing her again. This time when her hands fell to his belt buckle and undid it he didn’t object. He kicked off his boots as she worked his jeans open, her fingers grazing the skin just below his waist band and he bucked at her touch.

“So sensitive for such a big, tough guy…” she teased into his kiss and he gave a chuckle.

“You know I’m a big softie really…” he said

“Nothing soft about this…” she remarked, her hand reaching into her boxers and grasping his painfully hard cock, causing him to buck violently in response.

“Jesus Doll, give a guy some warning…” he stuttered out between his grit teeth.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she shot back.

Unable to take it anymore he moved, stepping out of his jeans and backed her to the bed, hands reaching round to unhook the clasp of her bra. As it fell away he gave another moan at her now bare chest in front to him, perfect pink skin on display.

“God you’re beautiful.” he said, eyes locking onto hers.

“Bet you say that to all the girls…” she teased back.

He snorted “They’re not exactly lining up sweetheart.” “More fool them…” she said, leaning up to kiss him again, her hands snaking round his neck. They both fell back onto the bed with a soft thud, and he moved her gently so she was led under him. She pulled away pushing on his shoulders and looked up at him as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Socks.” “What?” he frowned.

“Take them off.”

“Katie, I-” “Steven, I’m not having sex with a guy who leaves his socks on.” Katie said, shaking her head “That’s just fucking weird.”

“You’re killing me doll, you know that?” he groaned. He sat up, shaking his head and pulled the offending garments off before he crawled back over the top of her. “Ok now?” “Yeah…” she nodded, grinning.

With a roll of his eyes he dropped his lips back to hers and kissed her again, hands gently tangling in her hair as he held her face still, lips moving from her lips to her jaw line to that spot on the neck he had noticed she’d appreciated him lavishing affection on before. She gave a soft moan, and her hips bucked upwards slightly, drawing a soft growl from his throat at the feeling as she pushed against him. His mouth moved downwards, lips and tongue circling the swell of her breast before he gently took a nipple into his mouth, listening to her soft keens as he teased her, his other hand sliding down over the curve of her hip, fingers brushing the skin just above her panty line. Without a word he slipped his fingers down, over her mound and she groaned again, arching her back.

“Fuck…” she mumbled, “Steve…”

He didn’t waste any time. His deft fingers began to play, coaxing more and more wetness from her as he went. He glanced up to see her head was thrown back against her pillow, eyes shut in utter bliss as she bit her lip.

“Look at me…” he said softly, moving so that his face was hovering over hers again, fingers still working. She opened those emeralds he felt he could drown in and her pupils were blown with desire. His fingers picked up their pace and he slid one, then two inside her, curling against her spot over and over again. He watched as her jaw slackened as her back arched and she let out a low keen.

“Stevie…” she panted “I..” her words trailed into a low gasp which turned into a groan as her back arched, her eyes fluttered shut and she convulsed underneath him, and he felt her tighten around him. Eventually she relaxed and her breathing evened out slightly and she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face before her hand slid up into his hair, bringing his face down so she could kiss him again.

Then it was a fast scramble to get both of them out of the last remaining, thin barriers of clothing before Steve nestled into the v of her legs, mouth nipping at her collar bone.

“Need you…” she purred into his hear and fuck, did he need her too.

“Need a…” he said, pulling back, fully intending to retrieve that little foil packet he always kept in his wallet, not that it ever saw the light of day mind, but she stopped him and shook her head.

“I’m ok, covered…that’s if…” “Yeah, I’m good…” he nodded, settling back over her. Her hand reached down between them, and she gently guided him towards where she wanted and as he looked up at her, a bit too quickly, his forehead collided with hers.

“Ow!” she spluttered out a giggle and he gave a groan. How was it that she’d managed to reduce him right back to that dumbass little kid from Brooklyn.

“Sorry…” he muttered, but she simply laughed again and pressed her lips to his.

“Don’t keep me waiting…” she said softly.

And Steve, never one for refusing to help a lady out, was happy to oblige. He worked into her with a steady, gently movement which made him shudder, dropping to his elbows over her as she gave a soft moan.

“Ok?” “Yeah…I’m good…” she said as he began to move, his thrusts slow and gently at first, hips rocking against hers. His lips met hers again in a sloppy kiss as she raked her hands down his back, nails digging into the skin, the bite of pain was like a hot wire to his groin and he gave a groan, picking up the pace slightly, her body moving with him with each thrust, skin sliding against skin, the soft sounds of sex and groans and whimpers filled the air and half the time Steve couldn’t tell whether it was her or him.

“More…” she begged softly, and he hooked his hand under her knee, wrapping her leg up round his waist allowing him to drive deeper and she gave a loud mewl underneath him as her nails dug into his shoulders as he moved faster, reading the signs she was giving him, his hips snapping back and forth with a needy desire, the carnal want he had for this woman consumed him and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Come on baby…” he said, his breath ragged on her ear as he gently sucked at that spot again, feeling her writhing underneath him. “I got you, let go…”

His breath caught slightly as she tipped her head to press her lips to his, the kiss heated and he swallowed the loud groan she made before her head fell back her hands gripping to his back as if her life depended on it.

“Stevie…I’m…gonna…” she managed to stutter before her mouth once more slackened and her sultry lament made Steve shudder as her body spasmed underneath him, her leg twitching as he gripped it tight round his waist. Her tight heat gripped him, tightening again and again and he felt the burning deep in the pit of his stomach, the surge of his own orgasm felt like it was rising from his very toes as he drove into her once more.

“Fuck, Doll…” he mumbled, before a guttural rumble erupted from his throat as his hips stuttered slightly before he made another few shallow thrusts until he collapsed forward, burying his head in her neck as the afterglow consumed him.

He had no idea how long passed before he managed to muster enough about himself to raise his head. She still had her eyes closed but there was a satisfied smile playing on her lips, one he couldn’t help but mirror. As he watched her face, the tip of his nose gently resting against hers, her eyelids flickered open and he smiled down at her, gently pressing their foreheads together.

“Ok?”

“Yeah…” her voice was raspy and she swallowed “That was more than ok…” He chuckled as he met her lips in a soft kiss, before he gently rolled off her, laying on his back and reaching down for the duvet which was tangled around their legs. After a short wrestle with it and a bit more giggling they both settled down, Katie’s head on his chest as he lay on his back, his hand softly carding through her hair…

Steve blinked, the sun creeping into his hotel room through the crack in the blinds was warm on his face as he roused into consciousness. Despite knowing he’d simply been lost in a memory he glanced to the side and found the bed cold and empty…just like she had done the morning after that night.

He rolled onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling. Two more rounds they’d gone after that. Once when she’d risen to get a drink, bringing back half a small bottle of water which he’d gratefully drained before she’d taken the empty off him, tossed it to the floor and then kissed him with all the ferocity of a woman in need, a need he’d been happy to once again satisfy. And then again when he’d nipped to the bathroom and climbed back in besides her, pulling her into him, her face gently pressing to his chest. She’d nuzzled her nose up along his sternum to his neck, then across his jawline where her teeth gently skated at his beard. He’d been rock solid again in seconds and as she’d pushed him onto his back, gently straddling him and lowering himself down he remembered thinking it would never get better than it was right then and there…

Steve gave a groan as his head pushed back onto the pale blue pillows of his hotel bed. He was rock solid now as well, the memories consuming him totally. It had been the best night of his life, and then he’d gone and ruined it all…

It was still dark when he woke, Katie’s soft body pressed into his chest, arms wrapped around her from behind, nose buried into her soft hair. Blinking he recovered his senses, shifting slightly as he felt her move a little. She settled almost immediately and he swallowed thickly.

Oh shit, what had he done?

He’d never thought confessing his feelings would get this far! No, actually, he hadn’t thought at all. He should have just ignored it like he had been doing for 10 fucking years. He was her boss…this was bad, really bad. Whilst there were no rules, per-se about relationships between colleagues, hell half the force was married to one another if you thought about it, but getting involved with someone in your command chain was a big no-no.

The more he lay there, the worse it got. If they carried on seeing one another, someone was going to have to move out of the department, and he knew that realistically would be her as it was easier to move a detective than a captain.

And then when you threw the DC opportunity she’d been offered into the mix…if she went, what then? It would end just like it had with Peggy. She’d find someone else, someone there…

No, this was Katie…she was different. He’d talk to her, yeah, that was it. They’d always been honest with one another, so as soon as she woke up he’d talk to her, explain that he did care about her, did want to be with her but they needed to think about how they worked it and … fuck, who was he kidding? This was a mess, a huge mess.

He had to go, had to get out. This was too much to process.

Gently he untangled himself from around her and ran his hands over his face, before he moved as quietly as he could around the bedroom, gathering his discarded clothes. He dressed quickly and efficiently before, with one last glance over his shoulder at her as she lay in the bed still sound asleep, he left.

Steve felt like crying. He should have stayed, should have talked, told her his concerns. Bucky was right, they probably could have worked things out, even with her going to DC. Katie wasn’t Peggy after all. But no, instead he’d done the one thing he swore he would never do, hurt her. He’d left her before she woke, and then ghosted her for days, been cruel and effectively made her think that he’d only been after one thing.

And now, the damage was done. He’d lost his best friend and he only had himself to blame. With a loud, angry curse he swung his legs off the bed was making his way to the shower when there was a knock on his door. He padded over the carpet, glanced through the spy hole and seeing who it was, turned and hurriedly grabbed the pair of sweats that were tossed over the chair in the corner. Pulling them on he swung the door open and Bucky sauntered into the room behind him, paper bag in his hand.

“Morning.” he said, as Steve turned to face him. The Captain still looked half asleep, even if he was, erm, standing to attention, so to speak.

“Good dream was it?” Bucky said, nodding to Steve’s crotch and the Captain glanced down and gave a low groan. He’d hoped that the sweatpants he had pulled on would hide that particular predicament. Clearly not

“Did you want something?” “Wasn’t sure what time we agreed to leave.” Bucky said, offering Steve the paper back. “And I was on my way past back to my room so thought I’d check in…”

“You know breakfast is included in the room rate.” Steve said, declining the offer with a shake of his head “No need to go fruit foraging.” “I like plums what can I say.” Bucky shrugged.

“And to answer your question we’ll leave in half an hour, so if you don’t mind I need to shower and sort myself out…” “You can say that again…” Bucky sniggered, nodding again towards Steve’s trousers. Steve rolled his eyes and headed towards the bathroom. “Oh, Steve…”

The Captain stopped and turned to face his friend.

“Just so you know, water is not a good lubricant. Now shower gel on the other hand is, as long as it ain’t that mint tingly shit.”

Steve blinked, and shook his head “What the fuck, man? “Hey I’m just stating facts” Bucky said. “I got that stuff on my balls once…not good. Felt like someone had dunked them in chilli powder. Was burning for hours.”

Steve groaned and looked at the ceiling, shaking his head as he turned and walked through the door leading to the bathroom, slamming it behind him.

“Backed up…” Bucky snorted, as he left the room, grinning to himself as he ate his plum.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan

#csi rogers and barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romanoff #thor odinson #bruce banner #james rhodes #peter parker #sam wilson #avengers fanfiction #avengers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #smut #yup

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Yellow Flowers In Your Hair (3/3)

Emma Nolan has been raised in a privileged household and has never wanted for anything other than freedom to live her life on her own terms. Her parents want that for her as well, at least to a certain extent, but when her father unexpectedly passes, Emma is left with two options: marry a man she doesn't love or lose the home filled with memories of her beloved father as well as memories of her first love, a man with blue eyes and a kind smile who left for the Navy years ago and hasn’t been home since.

But what if her first love were to come back?

Rating: Mature (it’s really only part of this chapter for anyone who hasn’t read)

a/n: to @shardminds your reactions to this story (and every story) are amazing and put the biggest smile on my face! If I could get 1% as excited about things as you do, I feel like I’d be walking around with that goofy smile all the time ❤️ I hope you like the conclusion to your fic!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Tag list: @shardminds @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @stahlop @spartanguard

-/-

Emma has a rather excellent understanding of the English language, even if there is much that confuses her and much to learn, but the two words that Killian has just spoken seem almost foreign. It’s odd, especially because she heard them once before not two months ago, but there is something entirely different about hearing them now and hearing his voice be the one to say them.

Marry me.

Killian has asked her to marry him with wet tears covering the blue of his eyes and a slight shake to his voice that she recognizes as someone being hopeful and scared all at once.

She would know. That was her when she saw him walking the roads less than an hour ago. This day feels like a dream and a nightmare mixed into one, and if she pinches herself hard enough, maybe she’ll wake up and it’ll all be over.

Emma grabs her skin in between two fingers. Nothing happens. Killian is still there. She’s still in a wedding dress.

Her heart is still pounding.

Marry me, Emma.

They are words she imagined hearing from him many a time, but nothing would compare to this. Nothing would compare to the way that she feels, the way that her tears continue to fall over warmed, rosy cheeks and her hands shake. She has never been one to believe that women must be married to be worth something, despite the situation that she currently finds herself in, but she has always been one to believe that being in love with the right person changes everything.

After agreeing to marry Neal, she never thought she would have that love, not the way that she felt about Killian despite how young they were, and yet here he is kneeling in front of her asking for her hand in marriage.

It is exhilarating and heart wrenching all at once, and Emma has no idea how to respond when she is already in a wedding dress set to marry someone else in fewer than ten minutes.

She wants to. She needs to, but she doesn’t know how the Cassidy family will handle this if she doesn’t go through with the wedding. There have been so many arrangements and agreements and…

“Killian…”

“Marry me,” he repeats, his blue eyes shining even more brightly than they were outside. “Emma, please. I know we do not know much about each other now, that we have grown and changed in ways that I cannot even begin to list, but I still love you. I always, always want to be by your side…if you’ll have me.”

“Killian, I can’t. I’m engaged to another man. I’ll lose the house. Mother and I will. I – ”

“I know. I know, darling. Ruby told me all about it outside, but don’t you see? You’re marrying Neal so that you can save your home. If you marry me, the same thing can happen. I can’t support you financially the way that he can, but I can support your hopes and wishes and all of the desires of your heart. There’s no need for you to enter into a loveless marriage when I’ve come home right in time.”

“Killian – ”

“Do you still love me?”

“What?”

“Do you still love me?”

Emma blinks, and she’s sure the black ink on her eyelashes is falling onto her skin, marking it and showing her tears. After these past few months, how does she have any left?

In truth, she doesn’t know if she still loves him. Emma is unsure if her affections are real and true or if they’re all rooted in memories of the time when she did love him. But she was so young then, so naïve and inexperienced in life, and can she truly love someone she hasn’t seen in nearly seven years?

Could she break Killian’s heart by not answering his question?

Could she break her own?

For so many years she’s been sure that she still loved him, held onto him like he is her favorite book in the library, but now that she’s faced with the question, her answer isn’t definite.

“I don’t know.”

His face doesn’t change, the desperate, hopeful smile staying, but his hands do squeeze hers until gooseflesh appears across her body. “That’s alright, darling. It’s been a long time. We’ve changed. Feelings can change.”

“I don’t mean – I don’t know what you want me to say to you because I do – ”

“Nothing, my love,” he whispers, releasing her hand to brush his thumb under her eye before tucking her hair behind her ear. He’s caressing her cheek, and she could melt into it. “I expect nothing of you, but I’d like you to listen to me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Emma nods as her stomach churns.

“Don’t marry Neal. Don’t do it if you don’t love him. You can marry me, Emma. You may not love me any longer, but I know that there are still feelings there, that they could grow. I also know that if I am lucky enough to have your hand in marriage, I can keep your family’s estate. I’ll also give you your space and treat you well. You can do whatever your heart desires. I have no expectations of you like Neal will. You will be my equal, and even if we don’t fall in love again, that will never change. I will never force your hand.”

“You are kind of forcing my hand right now,” she jokes.

Killian chuckles and leans down to press his forehead into her lap while she tentatively runs her hand through his hair. It’s softer than it was but no less thick. This is insane. None of this makes any sense to her, and it has to be a dream.

Emma has already pinched herself and felt the pain. This is real.

“This will be the only time,” Killian promises. “After this, it will be no more.”

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma bites down, marking her teeth with the red paint. This corset is too tight. It’s too tight, and she can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe.

“Killian, find my mum and the priest. See if we can be married today or if we’ll have to fill out different paperwork for our marriage license. I don’t know how to tell Neal. I don’t - ”

“I’ll take care of it all, darling,” he speaks into her lap before pulling back and pressing his mouth to her cheek in a warm, wet kiss. She hasn’t felt so alive in months.

And then in a flash, he’s gone, the door hitting the wall behind him, and Emma’s left sitting alone in her dressing room with shaking shoulders and laughter that stems from deep in her belly and is working its way through her body.

She doesn’t have to marry Neal.

Killian is here.

She’s not going to be trapped.

“So,” a familiar voice says from the doorway, “looks like your lover boy arrived home just in time.”

Emma wipes a tear from underneath her eye and keeps laughing. “Ruby, he is not my lover.”

Ruby looks behind her before turning back and stepping into the room, a wolfish smirk painted on her lips. “Please, I knew what the two of you were up to out by the lake and in the gardens. The only people you were fooling were your parents.”

“Ruby,” Emma gasps, placing her hand over her chest. She cannot stop laughing. “We’re in a church!”

“Darling, if you don’t think people in this church talk about sex, you’re mistaken.”

“You are shameless.”

Ruby winks and steps into the room until she’s squatting in front of Emma and embracing her. “And you love me for that. Who else would give you all of the tips? Your mother? She was fumbling around with her advice this morning, so I don’t think she’d help by telling you that if you swivel your – ”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret gasps, and Ruby shuts up so quickly Emma isn’t sure she was ever speaking, “what is Killian going on about? What do you mean you’re not going to marry Neal? I thought you wanted to. I thought you were happy. We’ve made so many arrangements.”

Emma stands from her chair and walks over to her mother, gently placing her hands on Mary Margaret’s shoulders. “No, Mummy,” she admits, “I wasn’t happy. You know I was only doing this to save the house and to allow you to honor Papa by not having to marry again. I didn’t want to marry Neal. I don’t…Killian has offered to marry me, and I know he’s not the class that you want, that he doesn’t have the money, but I think he could actually make me happy.”

“Oh, my darling,” Mary Margaret sighs before cupping Emma’s cheeks, “that’s all I want for you. I promise. If I had known…I assumed you had grown to feel for Neal. I didn’t – ”

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry for not being truthful.”

“It’s alright. I promise that it is. The entire town will be gossiping about us for months, but I couldn’t give a damn.”

“Mother!”

Mary Margaret giggles, actually giggles, and Emma hasn’t seen her mum smile like that since before they lost David. There’s something so refreshing about it, especially since they spent much of this morning skirting around the fact that David should be here for Emma’s wedding day, even if the circumstances are unusual and they wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t passed, and Emma can’t help but giggle as well.

“No part of me is sorry,” her mum laughs. “We deserve happiness, and I will curse every blasted person who decides otherwise. Now where is this new groom of yours? I need to know if my daughter is getting married today or not.”

Killian comes back into the room with the priest no less than five minutes later, and his chest is visibly heaving. There’s also blood streaking across his face, and when Emma asks if Neal did that to him, he ignores her to tell her that they need to leave now and go and get a new license for marriage so that they can be married within two days. It’s a rush of emotions and thoughts, and Emma almost feels sorry for Neal when she sees him running after the carriage as she and Killian drive away.

He comes from a wealthy family, and he’ll easily find a wife that is much more to his liking. Emma would be too wild for him, and she knows that he wouldn’t like that.

She wouldn’t like him.

Still, he will likely try to hurt her for embarrassing him like this.

The next few hours are a rush. Emma is no longer sure of her directions or where she’s going or who is talking to her. Her heart is pounding, her cheeks inflamed, and life moves so quickly that before she knows it, it’s two days later and she’s standing in a pale pink dress with buttercups in her hair as Killian stands in front of her in his Naval uniform. Liam and his new wife have joined them at their home, Ruby and Granny too, and in front of those people, a priest, and her mum, Emma legally becomes bound to the man she once loved.

Killian Jones.

Killian Jones, the boy with blue eyes who became the man with a wicked smile and a kind heart.

The man who she cannot wait getting to know once more even with the consistent hum of her heart clouding her senses.

It’s slow and stilted at first. There was always so much passion between them, so much desire, that Emma thought they’d quickly crash together, especially after the kiss they shared at their wedding ceremony, warm and soft with the brush of stubble that set the blood in her veins aflame. Instead, but everything about it is measured. Emma knows this is because Killian would rather die than not be a gentleman to her.

She’s had enough men in her life dying, so she will take the gentleman every single day.

Even if it means a slow courting.

(It’s what her father would have wanted.)

Emma knows this is what she needs, but her emotions are erratic and inconsistent, and every day she both wants to be intimate with Killian while also screaming at him for leaving her all those years go. She’s always considered herself to be even-tempered, but there’s something about him…

Killian frustrates her.

But in all of the best ways.

He doesn’t move in immediately. His work isn’t particularly close to the estate, but after a few weeks of him traveling back and forth every few days, Killian settles into a guest room they have and works out of her father’s study. Everything about it is strange – from having someone she’s not accustomed to being in the house to her father’s study being occupied again after dust collected in it to wondering what exactly she and Killian are doing with each other.

What would her life be like if Killian hadn’t shown up when he did and she’d married Neal? The entire Cassidy family has tried to ruin her name lately, and she can��t say she blames them after she left Neal at the altar. She also can’t say she would have liked to be his wife.

What would her life be like if she and Killian had never separated before getting married? Would they still be sleeping in separate bedrooms? Would his fingers only lightly brush hers as they pass each other in the hallways or would their fingers twine together as they walk together, side by side?

There’s no use in silly questions like that, however, and despite the swell of thoughts ruminating within her, Emma moves on with her life like she always has instead of simply focusing on the man who shares her breakfast table.

In the mornings, they eat breakfast together, usually with just the two of them, but sometimes her mother joins them. Killian drinks coffee with no sugar, which she finds repulsing, while reading the paper, and she drinks her coffee full of creams and sugars and tends to talk with Ruby over plans for dinner. Occasionally Killian will comment with a tease of her eating habits, and like the lady she is, she sticks her tongue out at him. When he winks in response, Emma feels fire dig deep in her belly.

Killian often spends his entire day working, whether that be in the study or miles away at the docks, and Emma spends her days with her mother, reading, writing, and occasionally painting all the while she spends time in the gardens. Her horses have received extra care as of late, her rides lasting longer and longer into the evenings while the sky is cast in an orange glow, and after a month of taking her trail rides by herself, Killian asks if he may join her.

She says yes, half out of obligation and half out of wanting to know why the hell he continues to insist doing things in such a proper manner. They’re married. She has feelings for him, feelings that are verging on love now that they’ve spent time together, and they’ve been given this second chance.

What if the second chance were to slip through her fingers? What if another accident were to occur while Killian was out at work? What if she were no longer able to see him chewing on his pen in the middle of his work day or hear the lilt of his voice as he reads with her at night? What if –

“What would you like to do with your life, my darling?”

“Hmm?”

“Your life,” Killian repeats. Emma slows her horse down and inches closer to Killian so that she can hear him over the whistle of the wind and the tapping of hooves. It’s chilled outside, the late November weather coming in with a fury, and they’re both wrapped up in knitted coats and scarves. Killian has on a wide-brimmed hat to block out the winter sun, and the tip of his nose is reddened from the chill. “I want you to be happy with your choices, and I don’t want you to think that all I expect of you is to cook and clean and raise children. You’re my partner, and I think if you have a passion, you should pursue it.”

Emma stalls her horse until Killian’s stops as well. “You want to know what my passion is?”

“Aye.”

Emma’s cheeks heat, and she looks away out to the sunlight glinting off the water. “I’m not sure. I don’t – my parents, as progressive as they could be, never expected me to be more than a wife. All I know to do is run a household. I’ve always been terrible with arithmetic and…I don’t know.”

Killian arches a brow. “Certainly that’s not true, love. You’re excellent in the gardens, have a sharp wit, and I’ve managed to see a painting or two in your studio. You’re brilliant, Emma.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“You are.” His hand reaches over until he’s holding onto her palm. She can feel the warmth of him through their gloves. “I would hang your portraits across my entire home even if you weren’t my wife.”

“Liar.”

“I am not,” Killian gasps, mockingly. “I’m telling the truth. I think people would pay a true commission for your work, and I could go around telling everyone that my wife was the brilliant mind behind the artwork that fills the town.”

“Oh, so what? You’re only using me for money and bragging rights?”

“No,” he promises, before placing a delicate kiss on the back of her hand. Her heart is absolutely hammering. “I’m asking about your passions because I’m serious about you pursuing them. I’ll be working quite a bit for the next few years as I settle myself into the company, and as much as I fully plan on spending time with you and courting you properly, I want you to be happy outside of me.”

Emma hums and brushes her free hand over the mane sitting in front of her. There are so many things about the world that interest her, and she’s not sure what her passion is. Maybe it is one of the things Killian listed. Maybe it’s something else. She doesn’t know, but she would like to find out.

The fact that she’s getting an opportunity without having to punch through walls and scratch her nails against the metaphorical doors is nearly magical.

“I think,” she begins, “I’d like to get a few more supplies for painting, if that’s alright.”

“Like I’ve told you, whatever your heart desires, love. I promise that’s all I want you to have.”

“Painting,” Emma sighs, “definitely painting. And maybe to plant a flower garden near the lake once winter passes in honor of Papa. Oh, and more hot chocolate!”

Killian laughs and nods his head. “Anything else?”

“I think maybe I’d like you to speed up your courting of me. You wouldn’t want to go too slow. A girl might get anxious and move on.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm,” she says coyly as she kicks her horse in the side to get her to start moving, quickly heading away from Killian so that she has to yell as she rides away. “So you damn well better catch up.”

-/-

Killian takes her to shop for more paints and new brushes the next day.

He also kisses her within an inch of her life before bidding her a goodnight outside her bedroom door.

Emma goes to sleep with a saccharine smile on her lips and an ache between her thighs, and she’s not sure which thrills her more.

-/-

Once December begins, Emma and Mary Margaret fill their home with poinsettias and extra candles, adding new curtains and table cloths to each and every room. They convince Killian to go with them to the woods to find a Christmas tree like they always did with David, and while it’s not the same, it’s something. Her father may not be able to be here with them physically, but he’s still there.

He’d love Killian now even more than he did before. Of that, Emma is sure.

She’s also sure that she loves Killian now. It feels almost the same as before, like a constant thrill in her heart and gooseflesh on her skin, and her mind seems to drift to thoughts of him whether he’s in the same room as her or not.

It’s the middle of December, and the two of them are lounging in the sitting room, a fire roaring in front of them and white snow coating the ground outside. She has her head resting in Killian’s lap and a blanket tugged up over her while his hand rests on a bare inch of skin in between her blouse and the trousers she decided to wear today. His touch is as electrifying as always, and she feels it over every inch of her.

“Sometimes we’d celebrate the holidays,” Killian says, answering her question about his time in the Navy, “but it’d usually be delayed until we were on dry land. The most we could usually do was down a bottle of smuggled rum in our cabins, so it wouldn’t be like it is this year with gifts and spending time with our families.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“It could be.” His hand runs along her waist, sneaking up underneath her shirt until his palm is resting flat on her stomach. She tries not to let her breath hitch, to keep everything steady. “I much prefer being home with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Killian promises, his accent dragging along on the words. “Nothing or no one is as lovely as you, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my holidays with than you.”

Emma’s cheeks must be as red as the curtains covering the windows. “Why’d you leave then? All those years ago? You could have stayed here. You didn’t have to join the Royal Navy.”

Killian sighs, and his hand stills against her stomach while he shifts his weight, looking away from her so that she can see the tick of his jaw from the underside. “Emma, as wonderful as your parents are, they never would have allowed me to court or marry you had I stayed under their employ. I wanted to better myself for you.”

“Killian – ”

He quickly looks down at her, lips pressed into the softest smile she’s ever seen and his blue eyes sparkle in the firelight. “I wanted to be good enough for you.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat and blinks back tears as she shifts on the lounge until she’s slipping away from his touch. Killian coughs and reaches up to scratch behind his ear, obviously nervous, and she tugs his wrist away as she settles herself down on his lips, knees on either side of his thighs. Emma swears his eyes bulge at her touch, and Emma would laugh if she didn’t need Killian to know that she is serious about her next words.

Cupping his cheeks and feeling the rough brush of his beard against her palms, Emma leans forward to press her lips against Killian’s. He opens for her almost immediately with a small, surprised sigh, and she tastes chocolate and the slightest bit of spiced rum on his lips. He is everything to her, always has been, and she could lose herself in him forever.

“Killian Jones, my husband,” she speaks against his lips while their foreheads touch together and a pleasant heat swells over her, “you were always good enough for me, and I don’t want to hear a word protesting that.”

“Not a word?”

“Not a single world, not multiple words, no words. It is fact no matter what you may think. My heart has always been yours even when it wasn’t.”

His hand runs against her back, pulling her body closer to his, and Emma is sure Killian can hear her heart beating. She can feel his.

“Who knew you were one for romance, Mrs. Jones?”

“You did. You always have.” She kisses him again, quick and dirty, and Killian growls before chasing her lips. She doesn’t let him catch her. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it again.”

Killian’s lashes brush against hers when he blinks, and she can practically feel his smile in his words. “Please never apologize for your feelings. That is not…I am not…I love you in a way I never thought possible, Emma. I would have waited forever for you even if you never felt that way about me again.”

“It’s likely a good thing I only kept you waiting two months.”

His laugh is delightful and alights her body with joy until she’s laughing as well.

Before she knows it, Killian’s hands have slipped underneath her shirt once more, and she feels the warmth of his skin against her as he kisses her, soft and slow. Her mind is filled with thoughts and words and more conversation than two people can have in a night, but then Killian is groaning when he realizes that she’s been without any undergarments tonight and there are no thoughts other than those of her wanting him.

And loving him.

Emma can’t stop kissing him, can’t stop feeling the softness of his mouth and the skill of his tongue, and when his shirt lifts over his head, she can finally see the broad expanse of his chest and how it’s changed over the years. His muscles are slim but still defined, and the patches of black chest hair have grown in thicker and softer. She could run her hands through his hair for days.

But she can also feel where Killian wants her, where his manhood is pressing through his trousers and is warming her thigh, and though it’s been a long time and she’s married now, Emma feels the slightest fluttering of nerves hit in her belly. Killian seems to feel it too, seems to know what’s in her mind without her expressing the words out loud, and he pulls back from their kiss to look her in the eyes.

How is it possible for one man’s eyes to be so blue? She’s tried to paint them, but she can’t seem to find the right color.

It’s perfectly and undeniably him.

“Are you certain, Emma?” Killian whispers as the fire cracks behind them. “We don’t have to be intimate with each other now. I’m more than willing to wait.” Emma smirks and rolls her hips over Killian’s, feeling how much he doesn’t want to wait. When he hisses, she can barely hold back her laugh. “Bloody hell, love.”

All Emma has to say is, “I’m certain.”

Slowly, slowly, slowly she and Killian strip each other out of their remaining clothes. Every touch burns warmer than the fire and every kiss lights her skin like the moon shining through the window. Emma’s heart is pounding, nerves and anticipation and love filling her, and when Killian settles them both down on blankets on the floor, no part of her cares that she can feel the slightest imprint of the hardwood pressing into her back. There is nothing and no one but she and Killian in this moment.

There is nothing and no one other than the feeling of Killian running his fingers through her center, riling her up and making her ache in more want than she’s felt in a good many days. His touch was once a distant memory, something she could only relieve in faded flashbacks and hopeful wants of him returning, but none of that matters now.

He’s here, and her imagination and her memories could never compare to the reality.

Swallowing, Emma focus on Killian’s face as he hovers above her, but then he’s moving and kissing her shoulder, running his tongue under her collarbone, and she melts into the blankets until they’re one. She does the same with Killian slowly slides into her. He looks at her as he does so, wide blue eyes full of concern, but she nods her head and smiles to try to encourage him, to let him know that she’s perfectly alright.

In fact, she’s more than alright. The slight burn turns into her feeling nearly unbearably full, the warm thickness of him inside of her again is better than all of her dreams, and when Killian kisses her again, swirling his tongue around hers, any breathe that she had is surely gone.

Killian begins moving in slow gentle rocks of his hips pressed into hers, and Emma’s blood runs hot, pleasure building almost too quickly. She’d nearly forgotten what this felt like, and a part of her knows that it’s because it’s been so long since they were last together. Another part of her knows is that because it was different then. Everything about them was different.

It’s a new start, a new life, and it reminds her of how glad she is that she didn’t tell him she loved him on their wedding day. It would have been a lie, no matter how much she wishes for it to be true, but it’s not a lie now.

“Your skin smells like light,” Killian sighs out on a moan that shivers down her spine. “I think you may be my sun and my stars, possibly even the moon. Any light in the world is nothing compared to you.”

The words Killian speaks to her are better than any novel or poem she could read, and if she had words, any words that so much as came close to those, she’d say them. All she has, however, is, “I love you.”

That seems to be enough, especially when Killian speaks the words back against her skin and shifts his hips so that he’s sliding deeper inside of her and making Emma choke back happy whimpers. She can feel him everywhere – from where they’re joined to the way his chest hair brushes against her breasts to his lips on hers – and she never wants it to stop. But then Killian’s hand is brushing where they’re joined, and her desire begins to boil over. Emma’s fingers curl into his hair, making it a mess, and her back arches off the ground so that she can suddenly feel the sweat dripping down her back and forming at the nape of Killian’s hair.

And then her body is stilling, gooseflesh forming on every inch of bare skin, and Emma closes her eyes as she calls out Killian’s name along with several curses she normally only uses in his presence. She has no breath, no thoughts other than how good this all feels, and how she wants Killian to feel the same way. His movements have gone from careful to hurried, and if the dirty mutterings he’s whispering in her ear are any indication, he’s almost there too.

“Fuck,” he hisses, thrusting into her. “You’re divine. Absolutely divine.”

And then he’s desperately kissing her pulling out of her all in one motion so that he spills himself on her stomach before pressing down half on top of her and half on the blankets. Either way, they’re both breathless and if Killian is anything like her, quite possibly boneless. The thought makes her bite her tongue to stifle her laugh at the dirty joke, but a small chuckle escapes her anyway and has Killian turning to look at her with his sated smile.

“What has you laughing, my love?”

“Nothing,” she lies.

Killian huffs and leans into her, hotly pressing his lips against her neck where he’s sure she can feel her hammering pulse. “I meant to have you in a bed, you know? It was going to be proper unlike all of our other times together. I was going to do this the correct way and take my time with you, but I cannot seem to help myself when you’re in my presence.”

“I feel the same way.” She presses a kiss into his sweaty hair. “This was perfect, and if you want to have me in a bed, there’s always later.”

Killian’s laugh is so loud she’s surprised the entire house doesn’t wake up. “I will always want you. Always have, always will.”

-/-

Ruby’s smile is wolfish and knowing the next morning, and Mary Margaret can barely look Emma in the eye. Maybe they did manage to wake the entire house last night.

Or maybe Killian’s resounding kiss on her lips in the middle of the kitchen and his wild hair gave it away.

-/-

Emma’s favorite place that entire winter becomes the sitting room, and in her private moments, she tries to recreate so many of the memories she has in that room with all of her loved ones on one of her canvases. They’re never quite right, but they’re something.

Besides, she’s got more memories to make.

-/-

When spring comes and the weather warms the slightest bit, Killian falls down on one knee and asks if she’d like to marry him again. Emma laughs and tells him that they’re already married, as if he could forget, but he informs her that he’d like to do this properly as well.

The two of them standing in the new planted garden by the lake with buttercups in their hair and smiles on their faces doesn’t seem like a proper wedding, but when have the two of them ever done things in a conventional way?

And it’s perfect to her. To Killian too.

-/-

Years later, the new garden on the Nolan estate – Killian never felt it fit to be called Jones even if that is their name – is fully grown and filled with yellow flowers and weeds that always seem to be overgrown. It’s where their children laugh and play and beam happiness that fills Emma with such joy that she was never sure she’d feel again.

Surely Emma’s father is looking down on them and smiling as Killian tucks loose flowers into her hair before doing the same to their children until they giggle and run away before collapsing to the ground.

They’re all happy, as is she, and for all of the things life has given her, it’s happiness for which she is most thankful.

Emma and Killian never stop getting to know each other, and for that, she is thankful too.

#yellow flowers in your hair #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #Captain Swan

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medea10 · 4 years

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My Review of Interspecies Reviewers

End of January…um, 2020

“Grrr…this day was a crap show! The republicans rat-fucked our country and Brexit fucking happened. I’m gonna write some scripts and call it a night. Let me just check Twitter one last time before I…

Huh?

FUNimation drops newly-added anime, Interspecies Reviewers?

This smells scandalous, I must watch!”

It’s very, very, VERY rare that an anime licensor drops an anime that’s currently airing in Japan and doing it weeks after announcing a full release (no pun intended), plus a friggin’ English dub. And where there’s controversy, I will be there to sniff it out…eventually. I think I can squeeze one more anime to watch on a week-by-week basis. Hell, I shoved Domestic Girlfriend in at last minute in 2019 right in the middle of moving to a different state. I think I can handle a little anime like this. What could possibly go wr…?!

*one week later*

Oh fluffies! This escalated quickly!

So…Interspecies Reviewers is about a human name Stunk and an elf named Zel. They go around to brothels, spend some time with the ladies of the evening known as Succu-girls (because these girls suck you), and review their “encounter” with them for a tavern full of curious males. Stunk and Zel want to go around and conquer as many species, discovering all new kinks and fetishes, fondle all kinds of jiggly-bits and naughty bits from cow-girls, cat-girls, skeleton girls, succubis, fire salamanders girls, elves, fairies, slimes, demons, bird-maidens, cyclops, and oh-so many others. This is a vast world and there’s only so many brothels these men can tackle at a time.

Oh yeah, there’s also an angel named Crim. Stunk and Zel saved Crim, but Crim can’t go back to Heaven since his halo is busted. Although now, I doubt if he’ll ever get entry back into Heaven after being defiled by a cat-woman. I mean who among us haven’t lost our virginity to a cat-eared girl on a whim?

*ahem*

R.I.P. Crim’s virginity

So there you have it! A human, an elf, and an angel walk into a brothel and…that’s the anime!

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUUUUUU…..UH-OH: The sub was fine and I’m gonna leave it there with the subtitle version. As for the dub…What dub? There’s no dub! Dubs are just a myth here! Like I said before, FUNimation DID have this series. Emphasis on “DID”! They released the first 3 episodes in their normal week-by-week fashion, no worries there. They promised an English dub and released one episode dubbed, sounds about right! But then one night, they just drop this series!

Funimation on Jan. 31: After careful consideration, we determined that this series falls outside of our standards. We have the utmost respect for our creators so rather than substantially alter the content, we felt taking it down was the most respectful choice.

*sighs*

BOI!

Did you, FUNimation? Or was it Sony pulling the strings? But I’m getting ahead of myself here. A wide variety of things could have sprung this on! One reason could be that the voice actors felt uncomfortable with the material. I know some voice actors from FUNimation are a little skeptical here and if they voice something that’s borderline Hentai or IS HENTAI, they’ll use an alias name so that no one would be the wiser. I know it’s a job and money’s on the table here, but people are people. They have morals and boundaries! Not everyone can have the bravery to voice act in a Hentai like Dan Green (he totally did, you should look it up).

Another theory, Sony and/or FUNimation were being cautious and don’t want to air something so extreme in the naughty department. But if that were the case, how do you account for your full releases of High School DxD, Panty & Stocking, Conception, Keijo!!!!!!!!, Shimoneta, My Girlfriend is a Gal, and A Sister is All You Need? Then again, these animes were made and released prior to Sony buying FUNimation. But as of recent, FUNimation is streaming works from Aniplex of America that are kinda questionable. Where I’m going with this is that weeks after dropping Interspecies Reviewers, they add shows like Nisemonogatari AND Eromanga Sensei to their site. Ahem! Guys, where were those “STANDARDS” you were talking about earlier? Eromanga Sensei is downright illegal! Then again, none of these titles really reached full-blown bestiality like this series does! I mean, Sentai Filmworks happily released Monster Musume and that was borderline bestiality. But whatever, you guys do you!

Then again, no series has gone the distance by having several sex scenes per episode with the uncensored version going beyond the boundary quite like this.

Yeah…in this “woke AF” time we’re living in, if an anime doesn’t have an advisory stated at the beginning of an episode with lewd or controversial scenes, people lose their shit. Hence, Goblin Slayer’s debut and that one Sword Art Online episode! Whatever the case, now that FUNimation dropped this series, I don’t expect it to get picked up by any other licensor and it’ll probably remain in license limbo forever. There were a few voice actors set up to be in this anime including Monica Rial, Brittney Karbowski, and Amber Lee Connors. Only one episode was dubbed and good luck finding it now! But after this, I doubt these folks would ever finish what they started. And that’s a shame, because FUNimation voice actors have a knack for turning an anime dirty. Especially if you hire Monica Rial or Jamie Marchi (or both)!

I know every season, there’s a fight between American licensors in what animes they’re going to grab and show to their subscribers. FUNimation really could have taken a few extra minutes to do a little research on this one before jumping in a pool where the water is replaced by naked half-species chicks. For fuck’s sake, there’s a manga to this! Although, I’ve heard that the manga doesn’t even go this far! So this is disproving my rant! Let me just finish by saying that FUNimation really fucked up here. You could have streamed the series censored, have an age confirmation to watch the uncensored version, and then release that later down the line! But dropping Interspecies Reviewers has unleashed a fury of pissed off viewers who ended up trolling MyAnimeList and other websites. Yeah, thanks a lot! Those were some idiotic days on the internet! With all of that said, here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

*Stunk is played by Junji Majima (known for Ryuji on Toradora, Ryuunousuke on Assassination Classroom, Kimihito on Monster Musume, Nikaido on Shugo Chara, Racer on Fairy Tail, and Kouhei on Oreimo)

*Zel is played by Yuusuke Kobayashi (known for Subaru on ReZero, Tanukichi on Shimoneta, Arthur on Fire Force, and Marui on Food Wars)

*Crim is played by Miyu Tomita

FAVORITE CHARACTER: God bless this boy, I love Crim.

I know he’s got the short end of the stick in a lot of these reviews. But there’s nothing short about his stick if you get what I’m saying.

Yeah, I said it.

SHIPPING: DO STD’S EXIST IN THIS FUCKING WORLD?!

Look, all you need to know is that real love is not gonna happen in this franchise and just fuck it! Literally!

Actually, I really think the boys have a special place in their hearts for Meidri. I’m only basing this on episode 6 where the boys go to the Golem brothel to “Build-a-Bitch” and out of all the figures, ladies, and ways to build a bitch, their little Halfling friend builds a golem replica of Meidri. Maybe it’s because she’s familiar or they’re curious in case they end up having sex with Meidri in the future or if the Halfling has a thing for Meidri! I just know all four boys ended up fucking a golem in the likeness of Meidri AND gave it a great score.

But aside from that, there’s really nothing more to say except Stunk has a thing for that 500 year old fairy and Zel has a thing for a 60+ year old human.

IT’S FUN TO STAY AT THE…: It’s obvious that Japan has a thing for music made outside of the country. Especially those made in America (and England)! Recent examples are animes like Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, Eden of the East, and A Silent Voice actually using songs from groups like The Bangles, Oasis, and The Who. THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE TIMES!

The OP song for this series is literally Y.M.C.A. except about getting your dick up to fuck!

And you know what? That was another missed fucking opportunity for FUNimation! This song could have gotten an English dub. Normally I despise it when English companies give an English dub to perfectly good opening and endings from Japan. But this would have been the ONE exception. GOD! Only in my dreams!

OH THIS IS WRONG: I don’t mean aspects of this anime! I’ve gotten used to the sex scenes and the shock factor of watching actual hentai at this point. Surprisingly, the one thing that got my feathers ruffled is at the end of some of the episodes where we get a small segment from a gentleman named Professor Ookina or Professor Poke if you will.

LOOK AT THIS FUCKING MAN!

Pokemon, why haven’t you sued yet? This is a sexual version of Professor Oak’s end-of-the-episode lectures. Unshou Ishizuka’s probably rolling over in his grave either from laughter, disgust, or that he didn’t live long enough to voice this colorful character. I haven’t settled on which to believe in!

ENDING: The last few episodes we saw a few interesting storylines. For one, we’ve got one brothel where all four adventurers gave the ladies a unanimous 10/10. Spend three days with the clones of a powerful woman and just all-around perfect scores. That is just unheard of! Even in the anime reviewing community, a perfect anime doesn’t exist. So stop trying to turn Interspecies Reviewers into the next Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood. OKAY?! Not gonna happen! Just stop it! Stop it.

Then we had a gentleman who has generously been giving previous ladies of the evening perfect scores. This dude loves the ladies and sees the positives in all of them giving them all a perfect score. And I guess that does bring up a good point here.

Different strokes for different blokes! Not everyone is going to have the same taste as you. Stunk might have a thing for 500-year old fairies while Zel finds her old and disgusting. Zel might have a thing for Mitsue while Stunk finds banging 60-year old human whores repulsive. That’s where reviewers come in. They say the good and the bad when it comes to reviewing (insert profession here). In the case of this series, the boys have different tastes and when going to a foreign brothel, some of the ladies customs might confuse and weird out the boys. But in most cases, they had fun (except that afternoon watching girls laid eggs). So I’m glad Stunk and Zel found fault with the dude who gives 10/10’s like candy.

The final episode felt a little nostalgic as we revisit a race we haven’t seen since episode 2. Stunk and Zel find a business card for a demon brothel. They WERE supposed to go over and review the demon girls...

...but got side-tracked by the big-tit cowgirls.

Better late than never, but at least the demon brothel got some decent reviews by the boys. Good since demons are rated quite low in what men want to bang.

Then, the boys celebrate New Years by hitting up a good brothel to start the New Year off right. You know, start it off with a bang! It’s just that a lot of the popular brothels and Stunk’s regular hangouts are all booked up for the night. Lot of horny John’s on New Years! So the boys end up in a dream eater brothel. These girls take on the form of their dream succu-girl and believe it or not, the reviewers were very pleased. Almost like a pleasant dream!

Now conclusion wise, we really didn’t get Crim’s halo fixed nor did we go to Heaven to see Zel and Stunk get it on with some freaky angels. Instead, we get the same intro we got in episode one, reminding us that there are a barrage of brothels out there in this world and a bunch of succu-girls ready to suck your dicks off. And as long as we have succu-girls and brothels, there will always be reviewers like Stunk, Zel, and Crim to bust a nut! And I think Stunk is now going to visit his father’s harem now. Yeah, his old man has a harem. So there’s that! Too bad we’re not going to see that story.

I got to say…this wasn’t all that bad. In fact, I really liked this anime. And I’m usually rough on borderline-Hentai programs (and not in the good way). I am impressed at the creative way these men review these ladies and the brothels they work in. As an anime reviewer, I have to admire this. To take it all in with how these guys approach something such as having a one-night stand with a succu-girl! Each episode was a new experience with a new lady, sometimes two new brothels in the same episode. After their nights with a succu-girl, their reviews…actually, it’s best to watch it instead of taking my word for it.

NOW THEN! This is by no means on Top-Tier levels of Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood. So you people on MyAnimeList better knock it the fuck off! Yes, FUNimation dropped the ball by dropping this series when they’ve clearly licensed and dubbed WORSE. But owning them this way is just going to come off as weird when we look back at this years later and laugh. On top of which, FUNimation wasn’t the only one that dropped Interspecies Reviewers. Amazon Prime and at least three television stations in Japan dropped this series in the middle of its run.

Oh good God this was a fun and bizarre ride and it was fun while it lasted. Come on y’all, face the facts. There is no way this anime is ever gonna get a second season unless they absolutely censor the fuck out of it over in Japan. Look at all the Japanese channels that dropped this series not even halfway into the run! The best I’m hoping for is an OVA release. That way they can show us all the sex and nipples they want. But a season two? You’d have a better chance getting a Haruhi Suzumiya continuation! Yeah, I said it and I ain’t taking it back! Despite it not being available anywhere in the states, I advise my anime friends and followers to at least give this a chance (as long as you’re not grossed out by sexual discourse).

...

Medea, aren’t you going to give a number score like the Interspecies Reviewer lads?

*sighs*

I truly hate giving a number score. But for once in my written reviews, I’ll do it just this once.

If you would like to watch this series legally here in the states, you are shit out of luck unless you’re from Australia or Japan.

And once again…

R.I.P. Crim’s virginity!

#anime review #ishuzoku reviewers #interspecies reviewers #stunk #zel #crim

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thebiasrekkers · 5 years

Text

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC Genre: BTS Mafia!AU Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn WC: 3,967 Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

AO3 | WP

Chapter 12: The Truth Untold

"I can’t show you my weakness, so I’m putting on a mask to go see you."

Seoul – Myeongdong; Jung District South Korea

Eden felt her shoulder being nudged playfully and she groaned, her thick curls falling about her shoulders and ears as Raelyn grinned at her. The other woman practically bounced up and down in her seat, her glasses giving off a slight shimmer as the mid-morning sun hit the lenses. The taxi eased on down the road and she sighed, propping her elbow on the window and resting her cheek against her knuckles. As she watched the city go by, she could only grin as Raelyn chatted about all the things they were planning on doing when they finally stopped. After they ate, of course.

They could have driven to Myeongdong. Eden’s car could drive this week. Some might have found the odd-even license plate rotation law a bit of a hassle, but she could understand why. It cut out on heavy air pollution and on days when the air was bad and dust was more prevalent, the need for less vehicle traffic was essential. Raelyn insisted they just take a cab so Eden wouldn’t have to worry about parking. It was a fair argument and since Raelyn was offering to pay for the cab both ways, she wasn’t about to argue with her.

When the cab finally dropped them off at their destination, Eden stretched her arms over her head and rolled her shoulders back. She noticed that Raelyn took a moment to surmise her surroundings, as if she were looking for something. Eden watched curiously, stuffing her hands into her bomber jacket as she scuffed the heels of her Converse along the sidewalk.

Satisfied that she hadn’t seen anything, Raelyn smiled to Eden and quickly ran up beside her – immediately looping her arm through hers as they walked into the café. They both ordered their lunches and, of course, their coffee (extra milk and sugar because it was their day off and they could do these things).

The two of them sat down and talked idly about work. It was usually the first thing they did. Eden didn’t envy Raelyn’s job; not one bit. Overseeing people’s lives or having to be the one to tell a family member bad news didn’t sit well with Eden’s stomach. Cars and motorcycles were easy. They didn’t talk and if something went wrong, it was usually a mechanical issue that was out of her control. Machines weren’t built to last forever.

Then again, people weren’t either.

The conversation soon switched to lighter topics: what movies they’d seen recently and if they were caught up on the latest K-Dramas. The two women spoke English to each other freely. They rarely used it in their day-to-day lives. But when they were together, they shared conversations in their native language with smatterings of Korean. Eden remembered how relieved she was when she’d first met Raelyn. They were both transplants and while Eden was of Korean heritage, she was half African American. They’d both had rough lives and became fast friends. Their hours were a little weird compared to other working individuals, but they always made time for each other at least once or twice a week.

It was a nice friendship to gain after she’d been dumped by Yoongi shortly beforehand.

“So, what’s the latest?”

Eden raised her brows, tilting her head slightly. “Huh?”

“You know,” Raelyn said, smirking, “with the ‘Petty Mutt’ and all. How is that going?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started.”

Raelyn laughed. “That bad?”

“It’s not bad, Rae Unnie. It’s just, fuck, I don’t know.”

“What’s not to know?”

“I didn’t want to get involved with anyone else after things ended between Yoongi and me.” Eden shrugged, lifting the cup of coffee off the table. “I just don’t think I’m ready to be with anyone like that.”

Raelyn’s brows furrowed as she looked at her. “It’s been almost two years now, Eden. You need to think about yourself and not worry about anything else.” She sipped from her cup. “He asked to be friends, right? Then that means that he’s drawn the line.”

Eden sucked her lips in between her teeth before releasing them with a pop, resting a hand to her temple as their orders were brought out to them. Raelyn was right. When Yoongi offered to “just be friends”, it was clear that boundaries were finally being set. He’d ended things on his terms and while Eden knew that things between them had gotten a little rocky, she just figured they would work through them like they always did.

Then again, he didn’t go out of his way to introduce her to any of his actual friends. Business colleagues here and there, but when they went out – just the two of them – it was usually sequestered away from the rest of the world. Eden always believed it was because Yoongi wanted to keep her all to himself; taking her to the mountains during Winter to a private cabin, out to the coast of Busan where they could relax at lovely villa. In the summer, they went to Jeju Island to enjoy the quiet and solitude.

They rarely went out in Gangnam and when they did, it was for dinner or a movie and then he would always crash at her place. She remembered how embarrassed she’d been when he first asked to come over to her house when she’d been feeling ill. She tried to tell him not to bother with it; that she’d be fine after drinking some soybean soup and sleeping. He’d brought her medicine, soup, and bought her an extra mink blanket to snuggle into since she lived in the rooftop apartment.

Had it all been a lie? Had it all been just his way of messing around with a foreign girl? He’d gotten bored with her and tossed her aside when he’d finished amusing himself with her?

Her fingers curled into the ceramic mug, her nails scraping along the surface. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Raelyn must have known she’d struck a nerve because she instantly reached across the table to grab her wrist. Eden blinked back the angry tears that were threatening to spill out.

“Girl, listen to me,” she said, her voice gentle, “you are a catch, do you hear me? If he wants to let that go because of whatever excuse he gave you, then that’s on him. That doesn’t mean you have to deny happiness for yourself.”

Eden’s blurred vision righted and she gave a small laugh. “You sound like one of those cheesy self-help books, Unnie,” she teased.

Rae lifted her chin proudly and winked. “I have to find something to do when I’m working those extended hours at the hospital.”

“Wow, and she admits to reading cheesy self-help books.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

Scoffing, she waved her hand back and forth as she picked up half of her sandwich. “No thanks.” The lettuce crunched when she bit into it and she waited for Raelyn to finish chewing before talking. “So, what about you? You haven’t dated anyone since you broke up with Hoseok.”

Raelyn snorted. “I’m not a fan of having work stress follow me everywhere I go.”

“It’s true though, right?”

“About what?”

Maybe she shouldn’t be poking at this topic, but Eden had always been curious. “That you were a mafia boss’s girlfriend?”

She watched Raelyn’s eyes go wide as she coughed loudly. Eden’s brows raised when she saw her friend waving her hands back and forth – like she’d spoken some forbidden phrase and now the floor was going to open beneath them; sending them straight to hell.

“W-Where did you even hear that from?”

Eden smirked. “I’ve been here longer than you, Unnie. Anyone who lives in Gangnam knows all about the Golden Jackals’ leader, Jung Hoseok.” She took another bite of her sandwich, savoring the surprised look on Raelyn’s face. “Rumor has it that he had an American girlfriend for about a year before things ended between them.”

Raelyn pouted. “Who said you could just know all that about me?”

She gave her a ‘yeah, right’ face before swallowing. “Do you even know where I work, Unnie? People talk and Koreans are the best sort of gossips. I never would have figured that you were that same Raelyn, though.” Eden watched as Raelyn stirred her coffee when another thought hit her. “Wait. Is that why you were looking around when we got out of the cab? Because you’re a former Hyungsoo-nim?”

The older woman hissed at her, telling her wordlessly to hush up. “Not so loud, would you?”

“If you knew that, why did you want to come here of all places to go shopping?!”

“Because I can’t let that be a brand on my back forever, Eden, okay?!”

Eden opened her mouth to tease her but saw how serious Raelyn was and closed her mouth.

“We already have enough shit to deal with in this country. You should know that better than anyone. Do you think I want that shit following me around like some dark rain cloud while I’m here? So some bastards can show up at my hospital and stir up chaos; at a place of healing?” Raelyn sighed. “I can’t stay trapped in Gangnam forever. I should be able to walk and shop and travel wherever I damn well please. I’m a free woman and that means I shouldn’t be scared to go into some other mobster’s turf.”

“Unnie…”

“I need to know if I still have my freedom, Eden.”

Eden knew what she was getting at. She understood it completely. The stigma that existed with their skin color and even their backgrounds made things harder for them in South Korea. It didn’t make them love the country any less. It was just a reality they’d come to accept. Eden had to thicken her skin up even more when she finally decided to move to the country of her mother’s origins. She needed to do it in order to survive in this place.

The two women managed to move the conversation back to lighter topics. Their phones pinged various notifications from others trying to contact them but both women chose to ignore the messages. They were out there to spend time with each other and that was all. They didn’t want any other unnecessary distractions derailing their day.

They visited a few shops, bought clothes and a few things at the electronic shops. Eden bugged Raelyn to stop by the nearest manhwa shop so she could buy a few more comic books to tide her over for the next week. Raelyn made a fuss, but she wound up purchasing all of The Bride of the Water God series for herself. Eden teased her relentlessly as they continued strolling through the heart of downtown Myeongdong.

After their matinee movie, it was getting close to dinner time. Neither of them wanted to go to an actual restaurant, opting to hit up a tent house instead. The women ordered beer and soju for their table, a side of pork belly with lettuce, rice and soybean paste. Eden busied herself with mixing their cups – half soju and half beer – before handing the older woman her glass.

“Cheers!” they said, clinking their glasses together.

The two drank, ate, and laughed loudly. They didn’t care if others were paying attention to them. This was one of the few times that Eden allowed herself to cut loose. However, their laughter was interrupted by the sound of cups slamming on a table clear on the other side of the tent house. All other patrons quieted their conversations and Eden looked over to where the noise came from.

Several men were seated at a table, drinking and eating just like they were. One of them had a clearly aggravated look on their face – his face a little pudgy and pink from the alcohol he had consumed. In fact, they all looked a little similar, though that might have been the alcohol in Eden’s system playing tricks with her. One face stood out among them, however, and he seemed unbothered by what was happening. His chestnut bangs fell over his brows and he lifted his shot glass to his lips, drinking quietly.

He looks like a woman, Eden thought bitterly before huffing to herself, her hands busying themselves with folding meat into lettuce once it was off the grill.

“You women are so fucking noisy,” growled the one who’d made all the noise. He spoke in English, attempting to sound intelligent and failing. She caught Raelyn rolling her eyes while she poured herself another drink. “Some of us don’t want to hear your stupid cackling. You sound like a couple of chickens.”

Eden stuck her middle finger up at him. “Then stuff your ears with cotton, you fuckin’ prick,” she fired back in Korean. A slow smile formed on her lips. “Better yet, go play in traffic, you wild boar.”

Two of the men shot up from the table, knocking their chairs to the ground. “What’d you say?!”

“Did I stutter? You got rocks in your ears?”

“You little bitch!”

“Knock it off,” said one of the men at the table. Eden eyed him and watched as the two men picked up their chairs and set them back upright. It was the one who looked a little feminine. “Making all this noise unnecessarily. It’s disgusting.”

They bowed their heads. “Sorry, Hyung-nim.”

The one they called ‘Hyung-nim’ looked at Eden and Raelyn, a lazy smile crossing his features. “Can I buy you ladies a drink?”

Eden scoffed, pouring what remained in her soju bottle into her glass. “No thanks,” she snapped, “we can buy our own.”

“It’s only polite. Especially since the Golden Jackal’s Hyungsoo-nim is present.”

A bottle crashed to the floor and Eden looked up to see Raelyn’s face reddening slightly, which was a feat considering her darker skin tone. She could see her friend’s face contorting between anger and worry and this infuriated Eden. The mixed girl cut her eyes to the man whose own facial expression hadn’t wavered. Not one single bit.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said sweetly, “I meant former Hyungsoo-nim.”

Eden’s hand slowly went into her jacket pocket, her fingers caressing the handle of her switchblade. The man clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, waving a finger back and forth as he continued to hold his shot glass.

“I wouldn’t try anything funny if I were you.” He shrugged, downing the shot and setting it down. “There’s no sense in getting hostile.”

“If you even think about touching my Unnie,” snarled Eden.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s not like she’s tied to that group anymore.” His smile grew just a hair and he looked directly at Raelyn. “If she still were, well, we would be having a very different conversation right now.”

There was a long stretch of silence that permeated the tent house. Everyone in the establishment was afraid to breathe. At least everyone that wasn’t involved in the conversation currently passing between them. Because they all knew who was sitting at that table. Everyone knew whose territory this belonged to.

“So which Jade Fang are you?” said Raelyn calmly, breaking the silence.

He bowed his head politely toward Raelyn. “Yoo Kihyun,” he said before lifting his head up, “the Mongoose.”

“I see,” was all she said before standing up from the chair. “Eden, let’s go.”

Eden stood up quickly, almost knocking her chair over. “Rae Unnie, we can’t—”

“Let’s go,” she snapped, looking pointedly at her, “Now.”

She balked at Raelyn because she’d never spoken to her like that. Angrily, the mixed woman kicked her chair before throwing a wad of bills onto the table. Raelyn was the first one to leave but just as Eden was parallel to their table, she paused to glare down at Kihyun. He merely smiled to himself while pouring another shot of soju into his glass. However, he didn’t look at her.

“Watch yourself,” she said softly, her eyes shifting to look at the others. A few of them sucked in air through their teeth and she flipped them off again for good measure before following Raelyn.

She saw she was already hailing a cab and Eden started to protest. When she caught the look on Raelyn’s face, however, she quickly closed her mouth and got in the cab. Her friend gave the driver instructions to take them back to Gangnam and those were the only words issued the entire car ride back.

When they were getting closer to her place, Eden started to shake her friend who was beginning to fall asleep. Raelyn mumbled something incoherent and she sighed, shaking her head. Eden paid the driver after she was able to help her friend out of the cab, making a mental note to have her pay her back at her earliest convenience.

As she watched the cab driving away, Eden readjusted Raelyn’s body against hers – draping her arm over her shoulder as she stared at the stairs leading to the rooftop. “…fuck me,” she mumbled.

“You really need to stop swearing so much,” called a voice behind her, causing her to spin a little harder than she’d intended. “I guess I’ll have to pray harder for you.”

“Jimin-ah,” Eden said, smirking, “what are you doing here?”

She normally saw him when he came to visit her at the shop or when she finally took the time to attend church. Eden was aware of his ties with the underground circuit, but there were so many times when she forgot because of how soft his expression was and the kindness he showed to others so often.

He shrugged, the silver crosses dangling from his ears swinging back and forth. “Well, a certain someone wouldn’t stop pestering me since someone refused to answer his text messages today.”

Eden huffed a laugh, preparing to shrug off all accusations when she saw Jungkook step out from the shadows and into the light pouring down from the streetlight nearby. Her smile fell a fraction and she looked between the two men. How had it never occurred to her that Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook were part of the same group? They both hung around Gangnam often and it was well-known that it was Golden Jackal territory.

Even so, it was still a little surprising to see them standing side-by-side like that.

Raelyn groaned, her hand moving to press up to her forehead. “It’s so loud,” she mumbled, lifting her head up to glare at the two of them. “Who said you punks could show up here?” She swung her head to look accusingly at Eden. “Did you invite them? How could you do that without asking your Unnie? Huh?”

Before Eden could answer, it was like Raelyn’s entire body was being pulled down by gravity. She stumbled forward and Eden let out a yelp, her fingers losing their grip. But Jimin rushed forward and caught Raelyn in his arms, steadying her back onto her feet.

“Hyungsoo-nim, are you alright?” His brows furrowed with concern and even Jungkook peered at the older woman curiously.

She smacked Jimin’s shoulder in drunken frustration. “I’m not your damn Hyungsoo-nim anymore, you got that?!”

Those were the last words she managed to get out of her before she lost consciousness. Jimin motioned for Jungkook to hold Raelyn upright long enough for him to turn around. Once he was, he motioned again toward Jungkook and he helped her onto his back, grabbing their shopping bags into his hands as well.

“Is she staying with you, Noona?” Jimin asked as he readjusted her so that her head could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

She nodded, fishing into her pocket to give him the key. “Yeah, just hurry and get her inside. I don’t want her to catch a cold.” He took the key from her and started making his way up the stairs. “There’s some Tylenol in the kitchen cabinet above the stove.”

“Got it,” he called back, his steps swift as he continued upward.

Eden watched, barely noticing that Jungkook was at her side. The two of them stood in companionable silence before he reached out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. The action made her jump and she looked at him with wide eyes and he smiled.

“Since you were with Noona, I can see why you were ignoring my messages,” he teased, causing her to pout, “but you both looked like you had a fun time.”

“Yeah, until those stupid Jade Fang bastards showed up.” Even though she knew it wasn’t his fault, she couldn’t help but glare at Jungkook. “I know Raelyn isn’t with Hoseok anymore, but don’t you guys think you should do something about their fuckin’ attitude? They were completely disrespectful to Rae Unnie.”

“Well, some things happened and they’ve kinda been on our ass a little more these days.” He said it with a frown, as if he wanted to tell her the details but knew that he couldn’t.

Eden scoffed. “Whatever,” she snipped, fishing into her pockets for her cigarettes. Slipping one between her lips, she fumbled around for her lighter. When she realized that it wasn’t in her pocket, she let out an aggravated growl. “Goddammit.”

“No lighter?” Jungkook sighed, shaking his head. “You really should just quit.”

“And you need to get off my back.” She watched him smirk. “Go upstairs and get my lighter.”

He saluted. “Sure,” he said, turning to make his way toward the stairs.

She heard him take a few steps but then he stopped. Wondering if something had happened, she looked to her right and saw that Jungkook had only made it up one stair when he paused, looking down the sidewalk. Eden took the cigarette out from her mouth, her hand falling to her side.

“Jungkook-ah,” she called, but he wasn’t looking at her, “what’s the matter?”

“…Yoongi Hyung,” he said softly.

Eden craned her neck and saw Min Yoongi stepping out from the shadows, a lit cigarette between his lips. He wasn’t smiling like he normally did when he saw her. His expression was dark; a mixture of confusion and mild anger. She knew that look because he didn’t show it often. When she looked at Jungkook, she saw that he was still looking at Yoongi.

“Yoongi,” she said, her eyes shifting to look back at him, “what are you doing here?”

“Go upstairs, Jungkook-ah,” he said, ignoring her question.

Jungkook blinked, his head turning to look at Eden and she could see his confusion. She was just as confused but something was slowly starting to make sense. One thing was clear though.

The two of them knew each other. And they knew each other very well.

“Now, Jungkook.”

Jungkook bowed his head and quickly made his way upstairs. Once he was gone and Eden heard the door to her place open and close, her eyes moved back to look at Yoongi. He tossed his Zippo lighter at her and she caught it without thinking. Cigarette still between her fingers, she curled her hand into a fist and felt it break between her knuckles. A soft pat issued when it hit the pavement.

It made sense. It finally all made sense.

“You,” she began, her voice seething as her fists began to shake.

“That’s right,” he said, his expression as neutral as ever. Except for his eyes. There was anger swirling in his dark depths and this, in turn, enraged her. “I’m one of the Golden Jackals.”

She watched as the cigarette dropped to his feet and he crushed the ember out with the heel of his shoe.

“Min Yoongi, The Lightning Claw.”

#bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btswriterscorner #btsbookclub #hyunglinenetwork #smutcentralnet #BTS #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfics #bts imagines #bts mafia au #bts mafia #bts crime #bts crime au #thebiasrekkers #bts thebiasrekkers #make it right bts #bts make it right

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strawberriestyles · 5 years

Text

3 A.M. (Shakespeare Extra)

(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Read Shakespeare here.

Author’s note: This has been a long time coming but I don’t really think it will satisfy anyone. Pls don’t hate me. :) AND DON’T FORGET TO LIKE AND REBLOG, MAYBE LEAVE SOME FEEDBACK. XX

He misses you so fucking much.

The hollow in Harry's chest seems to widen every time he thinks of you. It's been this way for six months, since he left you in tears at the airport. Lately, though, it's been so much worse.

It went so well for months. You would call him every night and chat about school, or his new job, or another poem from his journal that you read. You would tell him that you missed him and he would return the sentiment. But things have slowed with your summer break, and now he hasn't heard from you in a week.

Part of it might be his fault. He knows you feel the same ache that he does, but he doesn't want you waiting around for some miraculous way for the two of you to see each other again. He wants you to live your life and enjoy college. He told you as much, and he tries to forget the offended tone you used when you replied, claiming that you were working two jobs over your break to save up enough money to go visit him.

Since Harry's been in London, he hasn't felt the urge to see any of his old friends. No one seems good enough company. His job as an English teacher happens to be more work than he ever thought. He enjoys it to an extent, but he's not allowed the creative license that he would like. He wakes up and goes to work, comes home to his cheap, dingy flat, all alone, and then repeats it the next day.

Tonight, however, he can't get you off his mind. It's the first time he's been able to put pen to paper and scribble out a quick poem since the first week he got back. It was heated and passionate and even vulgar. He pictured you in all your glory, spread out for him, and for the past hour since he finished writing, he hasn't been able to forget the memories, like a film reel looping through his mind.

Harry is achingly hard. He's swollen and pink, and just the thought of you has him leaking frustratedly onto the sheets. When this all began, he hoped that he'd be able to refrain from touching himself and then be able to drift to sleep, but the hope has dissipated. Every time he shifts, even the gentle brush of cotton has his hips lifting from the mattress, searching for a more satisfactory source of friction.

"Jus' need..." Harry groans and surrenders, kicking the blankets down his body. He feels cool air drifting through the open window beside his bed, chilling his flushed, exposed skin. His hand drifts down his body, closing into a tight fist around his throbbing cock.

Harry lets out a ragged moan as he gives himself a rough pull. He thumbs his tip, collecting a dribble of precome and dragging it down his length. The touch of his hand gives him some relief, but it's not enough, and he feels even further gone than he did before.

The clock beside his bed reads three in the morning, and he's already doing the math to figure out your time zone. You should be awake. His free hand fumbles for his phone and he has his thumb poised over your contact before he pauses. He's not sure if you want to speak with him, or even if you'll pick up. But maybe you haven't been actively ignoring him. Maybe you've just been busy. And he needs to hear your voice. He doesn't think he's ever needed anything more.

The phone rings as Harry puts it on speaker. He sets the device on the pillow beside his head, hoping beyond hope that you'll answer.

"Hello?" You sit up in bed as you answer the phone. You've only been curled up for a few minutes, and you certainly weren't expecting a phone call from Harry. It's been a week since you've spoken to him, but you can feel a relieved warmth settle over you. You've missed him.

"Y/N," Harry breathes. He lets out a shaky sigh. His voice is deeper than usual, and rough around the edges. If you didn't know him so well, you might just think that he's tired. But you do know him, and the knowledge that he's hard and needy for you has your gut twisting in excitement. "Hi, angel."

"Harry," you whisper, settling back down against the mattress. "What are you doing?"

"Wanted t'know how yeh've been 'nd—"

"That's not why you called," you interrupt bluntly.

"I—"

"It's okay," you soothe. You want this just as much as he probably does. The two of you haven't done anything more than chat for almost a month now. "Tell me what you're thinking about."

Harry lets out a groan, one that's heavy and low and rumbles with the static of the call. "Can' stop thinkin' 'bout yeh," he confesses. "Thinkin' 'bout yeh everywhere—on top o' me, underneath me. Christ, I jus' wanna feel yeh, love."

Your body ignites at the desperation in his voice. You miss him so much. Just speaking isn't enough. You want to feel him and smell him and hold him. The shirt that he gave you has begun to lose his scent. Now, the only way to smell him at all is to press your nose directly into the material.

"I wanna feel you, too," you whisper, squeezing your eyes closed in an attempt to picture him here with you.

"Touch yourself fo' me, pet," Harry begs. "Please." You can hear his mattress squeaking as he shifts in bed. Across the ocean, he's tugging at himself to the thought of you, to the sound of your voice. The realization makes you moan out as you slip your fingers beneath your panties.

"I'm really wet," you inform Harry, blushing despite the fact that he can't see you. You trail your hand between your folds, pressing a finger gently to your clit.

Harry practically growls at your confession. "Bet yeh are," he grumbles. "Bet yeh're fuckin' soaked. Bet yeh're tight and warm, too." He moans brokenly, and you know he has a vise-like grip around his cock. "Dip your fingers in tha' cunt fo' me, yeah?"

You throb at his words, aching for him to be the one touching you. You don't think you've ever needed someone else to touch you this way before, and the knowledge that he physically can't has you nearing frustrated tears.

"Harry," you whimper, doing as you're told. Your walls hug two fingers tightly as you pump deeply into yourself. You can only imagine that they're Harry's fingers, even though the width and length and texture of them are so wrong. "I want you so much."

"Fuck. Want yeh, kitten. Want yeh so bad."

On the other end of the phone, Harry spits into the palm of his hand before wrapping his fingers around his length again. He can hear your labored breathing pouring from the phone, and it only spurs him on. His fist tightens, twisting as he pulls from the base of himself to the head of his length. He lets out a hungry moan. He doesn't know what to picture first. His mind keeps flashing with images of all the ways you've gotten him off. He can see your hand moving slowly, deliberately along his dick, experimenting with him and figuring out what he likes. He can see your pretty little mouth wrapped around him, looking sinful and devilish as you suckle at his tip. And he can see your cunt, swallowing him whole. He can see himself balls-deep inside of you, and a heavy groan tears from his chest as he squeezes himself the way your walls always did.

"Need yeh," Harry begins before he cuts himself off with a shaky gasp. He’s so desperate that he can barely breathe. "Need yeh t'come. Need t'hear yeh come, love. Can yeh do tha'?"

You whimper again, nodding before you remember that he can’t see you. The knowledge of the distance between you reappears with a painful pinch in your gut, but you ignore it. For now, for these few minutes, you can put those thoughts to the back of your mind. “Yes,” you answer.

“Tha’s a good girl. Such a good girl fo’ me, pet.”

You rub methodically at your clit. It’s nothing new, in fact it’s rather mundane, but with Harry panting at you, huffing ragged breaths as he imagines the two of you together, there’s a thick layer of excitement that makes getting off so much easier. Your head tips back, your phone nearly slipping out of your hand as you find your release, jerking against your own fingers, moaning brokenly.

Harry pumps himself faster at the sounds you make. It’s not long before he’s coming. It’s so painfully relieving and good that he chokes on his own breath, but his lips still form your name, over and over, like a chant.

He stains his bedsheets. His hand and his cock are so raw and slick that he can’t even slow to calm himself down, he has to stop all at once. But he feels better. So much better.

The moans and mutterings fade into staggered breathing from both lines. You wait for Harry to say something and he waits for you to speak. The seconds tick by.

“Harry?” you whisper when you just can’t stand it anymore.

“‘M here,” he whispers back. His voice sounds even rockier than when you answered the phone.

You lapse back into silence. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to remove the obstacles that stand between you. You settle on the simplest of questions, the least damaging.

“Do you want me to visit?”

Harry opens his mouth repeatedly, ready to form words, before rethinking. He wants to be able to hold you in his arms, he wants to be able to watch your lips move while you talk, he wants to be able to sift his fingers through your hair. He wants so much that involves you being physically with him. But does he want you to visit?

Honestly, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know whether he wants you to pop in for a week, two weeks, only to be ripped away from him again. He’s been so good for the past few months, but surely that would drive him to drink.

“Harry?” You’ve sat up by now. Your sheets are pooled around your feet and you don’t bother untangling them. You can only stare at the wall.

“I—” Harry swallows thickly and stares up at his ceiling. If he’s going to tell you anything, it should be the truth. You deserve the truth. “I don’ know.”

Three words. Three words and your heart has sunk deep into your belly. It stings.

“What do you mean?” You’re sure you meant to deliver that question with some heat but it comes out all soft and uncertain.

“I don’ know, Y/N. Feels like ‘s only gonna hurt both of us, don’ yeh think?”

“No, I don’t think, Harry.” This time, there is a painful power to your words. You’ve spent almost every waking moment since he left thinking about him, and he’s weaseled his way into some of your dreams too. You love him. You want him. “I’m hurting right now.”

Harry squeezes his eyes closed. He’s hurting, too. He’s hurting a lot. But nothing in the immediate future can soothe either of you. And you visiting would only be a temporary fix, a bandaid over an infected wound.

“I don’ want yeh t’hurt,” he mumbles, licking his dry lips.

“Then stop trying to hurt me.”

“I am not tryin’ t’hurt yeh, Y/N,” Harry whispers fiercely.

“It feels like you are.”

He bunches his sticky hand up in his dirty sheets and lets out a gust of air. None of this is what he wants. But it doesn’t feel fair of him to drag this out for another couple of years until you’re done with school. And even then, would you really want to move to England for him? Leave your family, your friends? If it was only that easy. But somehow, he thinks you deserve better than this. Better than spotty calls and desperate phone sex and a boyfriend that’s thousands of miles and an ocean away. He wants you to enjoy your college experience the same way that he did, without having him to occupy your thoughts. And he doesn’t want you wasting your summer vacations at work just to come see him for a few days at a time. None of this is fair. To either of you.

“Think we should…” he begins. What does her think? That the two of you should break up? He doesn’t like that. It sounds so final, like your relationship is lost and hopeless. “Think we should maybe take a break.”

Your end of the phone call is silent. Harry waits quietly, patiently for you to say something, anything. He expects tears, like he can feel pooling along the lids of his own eyes. Is he making the right decision?

“A break?” you finally ask, and there isn’t a hint of sadness in your voice. There’s a whole lot of anger, though. “So, we don’t talk? And when does that end, Harry? When school starts up again? When I graduate? When you get bored of being alone?”

“That’s not—”

“You called me. Not the other way around. So, what? You get to come and then decide that I’m not worth it? We can’t be together because you have to get yourself off?”

“No, Y/N.” Harry sits up himself now. His heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest. He’s questioning his every thought and word. Is this really for the best? There’s no going back if it’s not. “This is completely unrelated t’that. ’S just not fair t’us. I don’ think—”

“You do not get to decide what is unfair for me,” you snap at him. "You’ve made this decision without me. It is not mutual. So remember that the next time you want to call me because your horny.”

Harry opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get the beginnings of a sound out there’s a beeping in his ear. You’ve ended the call. He lets the phone drop to the mattress and presses the heel of his palm into his eye. That was the exact opposite way that he hoped the conversation would go. And now he doesn’t know what to think, what to expect. Would you even answer if he called you again? Will you call him? Are you never going to speak again?

That final thought finishes him. He slumps back in bed, not bothering to strip the sheets, not bothering to clean himself off. How did this happen? He traces the lines of your conversation back to the beginning, but then he stops. It’s painful already to think about it, to remember you angry words and the hurt in your voice, even if there was no sadness.

He chokes around the thick lump in his throat and stares up at the ceiling for hours before he can sleep. And even then there’s no peace.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles shakespeare

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ahgaseda · 6 years

Text

the hot tea || chapter 01

⇥ synopsis : your best friend, Jackson, never fails to argue against your apathy toward love and romance, but his plan to confess his true feelings toward you is rudely interrupted when you start a blog chronicling your past relationships...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Home was a beautiful sight after such a long day. You trudged inside the shop and the dainty ring of a lonely silver bell was music to your ears. The sound signaled to the owner in the back, who stepped out with a towel as he dried off his freshly-washed hands.

“Hey,” Jackson greeted with a broad smile. After a quick glance, he changed his tone and asked, “Rough day?”

“The roughest,” you huffed, sidling up to the bar and plopping down on a stool. The place had cleared out, closing a few minutes earlier. The silence and emptiness were welcome and you tiredly slipped out of your shoes, letting your feet dangle.

Jackson offered, though he already knew the answer, “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” you sighed in relief.

Though his specialty was smoothies (and educating people on the importance of organic ingredients to promote healthy living), Jackson never failed to serve you a warm cup of tea at the end of a long day. He had different varieties too, and always seemed to know exactly which one you needed to soothe your morale.

As he pushed the small cup your way a few minutes later, you took a sip, dropped your head onto your hand, and asked, “Do you think some of us are just destined to be alone?”

Jackson released a long exhale - one that could easily have been perceived as exasperation, but you knew to be pity - and leaned against the counter across from you. Then, he replied, “You know I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes. Jackson agreed with you on many things, but this wasn’t one of them.

Living as neighbors in the apartments above the shop you currently sat in, Jackson was the last person you expected to bond with when you moved out on your own. And he had not been very keen when it came to taking on a tennant either, but he also hadn’t been prepared to buy the entire building when picking a spot for his new business.

Still, the arrangement worked wonders for you both. You needed a relatively cheap but safe place to live and he needed help making the hefty mortgage payments every month.

Jackson opened his mouth to ask what had brought out your poorly hidden disdain for relationships, but you beat him to the punch.

“I finally heard from that guy again,” you told him, taking a tentative sip of your hot tea.

Jackson lifted an eyebrow.

“Last night… at three o’clock in the freaking morning.”

Your best friend groaned and shook his head with disappointment, disheveled hair falling across his forehead. “Booty call?”

You slumped forward onto the counter, letting your forehead rest on the cold surface, and whined, “What is it about me that attracts nonsense?”

“Some guys just don’t know what to do with such a hot piece of ass,” Jackson teased, patting your arm.

Lifting your head, you swiftly narrowed your eyes in scolding.

Jackson put a hand over his heart and defended, “This is me providing comic relief.”

He was certainly a professional at that and you couldn’t help but smile in amusement. Pulling out your phone, you started, “Since I am doomed to the life of a spinster and a house full of cats…”

Jackson was quick to interject, “Are you maybe just a little dramatic?”

You shot him a look of mischief. “Only a little.”

He chortled.

“As I was saying,” you began, scrolling to your text messages. “Krystal had an idea.”

“Krystal is an enabler,” Jackson said with a level of monotone and indifference he consistently reserved for your other best friend.

Fighting a laugh, you continued, “She says everyone is blogging nowadays and…”

Jackson interrupted yet again to ask, “Blogging about what - work?”

Growing impatient, you fussed, “Jackson, I bake cookies for a living.”

“Fancy cookies that are delicious and have added at least five extra pounds to my voluptuous ass,” he quipped, reaching back and emphasizing the point with a loud smack to his buttocks.

You met his eyes and glared, blinking slowly with irritation.

Jackson flashed you a wide smile, happy to see he had gotten under your skin, and said, “Please proceed.”

“I wouldn’t blog about work,” you explained, emotionless. “I would blog about sex.”

His eyes widened with surprise and undeniable interest. A devilish smirk on his lips, Jackson replied, “You have my attention.”

“Since Krystal and I unanimously agree that anyone would be hard pressed to find somebody who has had the catastrophic dating history that I’ve had…”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed; more so to let you know he was listening, not that he necessarily agreed.

“And I have a flair for excessive vocabulary and witty narratives.”

“I see where this is going,” Jackson said, sounding rather unimpressed.

Rubbing your hands together, you asked nervously, “What do you think?”

Starting a blog that would catalog your shortcomings when it came to romance and intimacy had never crossed your mind, but a long-winded conversation in the middle of the night with Krystal had given her the idea. Little did Jackson know, if he didn’t condone it, you had already decided you wouldn’t go through with it without his approval.

After all, he would feature quite prominently on the blog.

Jackson tapped his chin and shrugged, noncommittal. “I mean, I’ve heard of people journaling as an alternative to therapy.”

“Which in some cases they desperately need,” you said with a scoff.

“Desperately,” he echoed, shaking his head as a few of his friends and relatives came to mind. “But it’s definitely better than adult coloring books.”

Pointing your middle finger to the ceiling, you grumbled, “Do you have to shit on all of my hobbies?”

Jackson chuckled. “I’m kidding… sort of.”

You snorted.

“If it’s something that will make you happy, then do it. Venting out our frustrations can help us get to a better place mentally and move forward. But always remember the golden rule,” Jackson told you, suddenly stern.

You joked, “Never eat raw cookie dough?”

Jackson grimaced at the thought, but didn’t comment. Instead, he finished, “Don’t ever step on other people to get yourself above them.”

“It would be purely humorous, I promise,” you said, downing the rest of your tea. “Nothing shady or vengeful about it.”

He gave you a single nod. “Good.”

You watched Jackson take your now empty cup and put it in the sink for a short wash, offering him another thank you as he did. Your eyes lingered on his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and despite how exhausted you were, your mind was having no trouble coming up with ways he could put those rough hands to use.

As Jackson moved to switch off the lights in the back, you returned your focus to the blog and added, “I’ve been pretty lucky in that all of my exes are generally good people and don’t hate my guts.”

“A miracle considering your ability to inspire annoyance,” your best friend smarted, returning to the counter.

You folded your arms and exclaimed, “Hey, I’m the one with the savage repertoire!”

Rolling his eyes, Jackson chided, “Don’t use words I don’t know. English is not my first language.”

You snickered, “Apologies.”

“So, all done here,” Jackson murmured under his breath, grabbing his keys. “After I lock up, wanna come over to my place and fuck?”

“What are best friends with benefits for,” you replied with a grin.

chapter 01 ⇥ chapter 02

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 smut #jackson wang smut #got7 scenarios #jackson wang scenarios #mark tuan smut #jaebum smut #jinyoung smut #youngjae smut #bambam smut #yugyeom smut

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shielddrake · 5 years

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Final Fantasy XII: A Retrospective Review

So, I received Final Fantasy XII: The Zodiac Age for Christmas last year.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a huge fan of the Final Fantasy franchise. I have played almost every game with that title that has been released…at least the ones released in America, since I sadly do not speak Japanese. So it’s not unreasonable to assume I would want a remake of one of its games. I have quite a few, in fact, including V and VI on my iPhone, III and IV on my DS, and I and II on my PSP. Final Fantasy IX was the first game I put on my PS4 when I got it (yeah, I admit I put a PS1 game on my PS4 before anything else) and I thoroughly enjoyed replaying VIII when its remaster came out last September.

Final Fantasy XII, however, is a bit of an exception because, my Internet friends, I have a confession to make: Final Fantasy XII is my least favorite in the franchise.

Now I wouldn’t say that FFXII is a bad game. Far from it. It’s a very good game. For the most part, I completely understand why so many people love it. I just don’t feel the same way.

When I first played the game when it was released, I was not too thrilled with a lot of the gameplay decisions and where it ended up going story-wise. At the time, I concluded that while it was a good game, it was a poor Final Fantasy title. And this is taking into account the fact that I had played and beaten both Final Fantasy Tactics and Tactics Advance several times before playing FFXII. Both of these games are quite different from the main FF series, but are great in their own right. I basically consider the Ivalice Alliance as a separate spin-off series, sort of like the Crystal Chronicles games or the Dissidia series.

But FFXII was not that great, in my opinion. I didn’t feel invested in the characters, I was not a fan of the combat or license board system at all, and I felt the story was incomplete at best and annoyingly vague at worst. There were a lot of missed opportunities for the use of the characters. I was neutral about the graphics, which, although beautiful, I felt did not really improve on what was presented in Final Fantasy X, and I didn’t like that a lot of the regular trends known in the previous installments (the summons being the main example that comes to mind) were thrown out for something completely disconnected. I finished the game just feeling a mix of boredom and irritation, to be perfectly honest. The only thing I can recall even remotely liking was the music, despite it not being composed by Nobuo Uematsu, my favorite composer of all time even to this day.

Needless to say, playing The Zodiac Age was not on my list of priorities, and I’m not sure I ever would have played it had it not been gifted to me.

All that said, I received the game and felt that, well, maybe since I have it anyway I would give it another shot. Let’s see if FFXII is as bad as I remember. Maybe a retrospective review would be a good thing to post on the twelfth anniversary of the game’s original release, so why not?

* Looks at the dates and realizes Final Fantasy XII was originally released 14 years ago, not 12. *

Uh, never mind. Clearly I’m way too late for that party.

Anyway, as I started playing, I decided that there were two big questions that I wanted to answer with this retrospective review:

1.) Is Final Fantasy XII as bad of a game as I remember it being when it was first released?

2.) Would I change my claim about Final Fantasy XII being my least favorite game in the franchise?

Obviously the game has been out for a long time, remake or not, but I want to warn against spoilers here just in case. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s experience after all. With that, let’s get started.

Statistics

I just wanted to start this review with a few facts about my playthroughs (yes, the plural is intentional).

I played through The Zodiac Age twice, once for about 42 hours in length and the second for about 47. I used each of the jobs in the zodiac job system in each playthrough, but in different combinations and on different characters. Of course, I couldn’t account for every possible combination. That would take a very long time…

The party was at level 46 on my shorter playthrough and 51 on my longer one. I did not complete all of the hunts, although I fought more of them the second time through. I did not try to get any of the special gear like the Zodiac Spear, mostly because I don’t know how. I also did not get all of the espers, because other than the required time you have to summon Belias to get into Giruvegan, I never used summoning.

I avoided any guides or other playthroughs for the game, relying on the game’s directions and my memory from my previous plays…fourteen years ago…to guide me through the main part of the story. Yeah, I haven’t played FFXII since it was released in 2006, maybe 2007, give or take a few months. So, if I got confused or lost during the course of the game, it was because I either missed directions or the game was not clear on where I needed to go.

At the time of this review, I have not experimented at all with Trial Mode or played through New Game Plus.

Graphics

This section will be short, since I don’t have a lot to say about it.

The graphics are very good. As I stated above, in the original I did not feel the graphics were all that different than Final Fantasy X released four years prior, and my opinion of The Zodiac Age hasn’t really changed. According to the Final Fantasy Wiki, the game was given “high resolution upgrades to backgrounds, character models, 2d parts, and movie scenes.” To be honest, I didn’t notice much of a difference, although that might be because I didn’t play the game often enough to have the original graphics etched in my memory.

However, that does not mean the game looks bad. On the contrary, it is still a beautiful game, despite a few small glitches such as Balthier’s dialogue not syncing up to his lip movements or Basch’s hair not moving, Those are minor nitpicks. The game is still lovely to look at.

Sound and Music

Again, the music for this game is excellent. As I mentioned before, the music was probably the one thing I would praise about the game when it was originally released. The Zodiac Age somehow manages to make it better by providing a rerecorded soundtrack that makes a lot of the notes sound less harsh. There is the option of switching it back to the original version, but I preferred the new one. Basically they took the one thing I liked about the original game and made it better.

The voice acting I am pretty neutral about. For the most part, I don’t think anyone’s voice work was either bad or good. Other than the overuse of sighs, of which I get most annoyed by Ashe’s because she sighs all the time, I don’t mind the voice acting very much.

The only one I have a problem with, and this was also the case when I first played FFXII, is with Fran’s voice. I always feel bad criticizing a voice actor because they put a lot of training and passion into their work, but I just can’t help but be really annoyed at the choices SquareEnix made when casting Fran. She sounds so different in the English version compared to the Japanese one, and I don’t think it fits the character at all. Viera, all viera, are supposed to be these rather ethereal beings akin to the elves in The Lord of the Rings. So why, then, would the translation team have Fran be given a voice that makes her sound like a nasally four-year-old? According to the Wiki, the translators wanted to “sell the new take on the viera,” but it just falls flat.

Miscellaneous Gameplay

Okay, I only made this section so I can briefly go over some of the extra gameplay components the game has, both old and new. First, the good.

The high-speed mode is great. I always thought the characters moved so annoyingly slow! This fixes that problem and honestly saves a lot of time. I feel like it sheared off a couple of hours off the game that are just empty time needed simply to move from place to place. I used this in the FFVIII remaster as well for the same reason. I basically never turned it off. It didn’t affect cutscenes, so that wasn’t a problem. Also, the sound effect of four people running in high-speed mode is strangely hilarious to me.

There is a transparent overlay map now available. I find this to be much more useful than the minimap alone, which was constantly moving and incapable of helping me orient myself. Previously, I was frequently frustrated and getting lost in pretty much every area, dungeon and town when I played the original version. The overlay map was especially useful in places where direction was important, like the part in the Tomb of Raithwall where you need to turn the statues to face the blade. I could never tell which way to turn them and needed to bring up the main map over and over and over again. The overlay map resolves makes this and general navigation much easier.

My only complaint is that, although it is transparent, it does take up a lot of the center of the screen, but that is a small price to pay for the relief of so much frustration. There are times when the overlay map isn’t useable, namely in parts of Giruvegan and the Bahamut, and then the frustration rises again, which only emphasizes how nice the overlap map is the other times.

Autosave feature. Need I say more? Thank you, SquareEnix, for an autosave feature! Especially during some of the hunts.

And now the bad, which can be lumped into one thing: minigames. Or I guess they’re minigames. They’re small quests that are required to further the story that are not combat based. The yell at the guards to make them move game while stealing the Dusk Shard, AKA the dumbest guards ever. The have Vaan declare he’s Basch in front of people in Bhujerba to get the Resistance’s attention, which unless you had already played the game you don’t know to do in front of the guides, leading you to just listening to Vaan spout annoying nonsense while literally nobody listens. The exchanging information quest in Archadia to get chops to be allowed to ride a flying taxi, which is only slightly less annoying this time around because they reduced the number of exchanges you need to do from nine to three. I guess they realized how tedious it was. I disliked all of these when I first played the game and they were superfluous and dumb and add nothing to the experience this time around too.

Character Progression and Combat

Now we get to the parts where I feel I can really say something constructive. I was initially going to have these be separate sections, but they are so closely related to one another that it seemed silly to split them.

There is something I want to make perfectly clear, that I must admit came very much to my surprise: The combat in The Zodiac Age is nowhere near as bad as I felt it was when I played the vanilla game. Before it felt like a boring slog just to get from one quest to another, but I found that not to be the case this time around. I think the changes to the license board helps with the combat be more dynamic and require a bit more strategy since not every character ends up being the same. I’ll get to the license board in a moment.

With the job system in place, you have to think more about how you’re going to approach an enemy rather than having everyone just attack the whole time. I mean, you can still do that, but your white mage is not going to be as strong as your knight, so having the white mage do only physical attacks doesn’t work quite as well. And with the option of giving everyone different abilities, it means that every character has a different role to play in battle.

The ability to add a second job later in the game adds to the diversity you can bring, since you can make any number of combinations of jobs and really none of them are bad. You’re also not limited by which characters can have which job. Once you pick a job for a character you are stuck with it (at least on the PS4 version) but that does not lock the job away from other characters. You can have two white mages, two knights, five red battlemages, or make every character a bushi if you so desire. You can have someone balanced, someone focused on only offensive spells, someone focused on healing, someone just for physical attacks, a tank…the possibilities are huge!

The gambit system is still in place, and I still am not a huge fan. If I have to micromanage a character’s actions, I’d rather have a system that allows me to input commands individually like in previous Final Fantasy games rather than allowing an AI to do it. However, I understand that the combat in FFXII is fast-paced enough that it makes that sort of system more difficult, and I managed to deal with it fine. I wish I didn’t have to buy gambits for every single miniscule action though.

On the other hand, I did find having multiple gambits useful for the various abilities each character has, especially since the job system allows for more individualized characters. This time, I felt like having several gambit slots was actually worthwhile because I had the characters able to do more things under specific circumstances, especially for spellcasters. This made it seem like it was worth the license points to spend on gambit slots from the license board. So while I still am not fond of the gambit system, I found it overall less annoying than before.

Obviously the license board is the biggest change to The Zodiac Age. The job system is excellent this time around, compared to the complete lack of a job system in the original version. Normally a blank slate for character progression isn’t a bad thing. VI, VII and VIII all had no job system as well, but you could still customize the characters to fit with a play style that you liked. Vanilla FFXII didn’t allow that. It was far too easy to make every character identical, so it ultimately didn’t matter which character you had in your party. This time, the available variety made it much more enjoyable to play and experiment.

The board was also improved on in that it was much more logical within each job. Before, the board was literally just a board, with every license just kind of lumped together. The license for a helmet was next to a license for the fire spell. It never made much sense and it seemed hard to predict what adjacent licenses you were unlocking. This time, armor licenses are together, sword licenses are together, magic licenses are together, and so forth. Some licenses in the same category are spread apart, such as the technicks, but for the most part there is at least some sort of logic to it all, making it much easier to plan character growth instead of it feeling random.

Later on, it is possible to make the characters very similar to one another, so that everyone can cast white magic, use the same technicks, wear the same gear, etc. This is especially easy if you pick secondary jobs that are opposite the first job (for stance, adding a foebreaker job to a white mage). This doesn’t happen until late in the game though, so it doesn’t feel nearly as cheap. FFX did the same with the sphere grid, but you had to be pretty far in the game before that was possible. Same thing here.

I feel I should mention the quickenings and summons, even though I never used the latter in battle. The mist abilities now have their own gauge rather than using MP, which is a nice throwback to the limit break bars of some of the previous games. I definitely prefer it that way. I found myself using quickenings less frequently than during my first playthrough, but that might be because the game was made to be overall a little easier.

Story and Characters

While the job system was the big change for The Zodiac Age, and certainly for the better, I feel I still need to talk about the story and the characters even though nothing about these parts of the game have changed. The big reason for this is because the story was where I had the biggest problem with the original version of FFXII, and therefore will probably have the biggest impact on answering my two burning questions at the beginning of this review.

That being said, if I were to go into all the details about the story and characters and what I think of it, this review would probably be three times as long as it already is. To add to that, since the game has already been out for twelve fourteen years I’m not sure there’s a whole lot I could add to the conversation that hasn’t already been said, other than to point out how I would change the story to make it what would be, in my opinion, better.

Perhaps if people are really interested in my in-depth analysis of the story I can do that in another post, but for the purposes of this review, I’m just going to give summarized version here.

1.) Reks should have lived, or been replaced by Vaan, or have both in the party.

2.) Vaan is not as annoying as I previously thought, but he needed to have a more concrete connection to the plot.

3.) Same for Penelo. Still kind of preachy, but seemed more like a Jiminy Cricket character this time around.

4.) The Strahl needed to be stolen somehow, both to give Balthier a better reason to go with the group and to give a better excuse to not just fly somewhere.

5.) That said, knowing the whole plot of the game makes Balthier’s behavior throughout the story make more sense. Better foreshadowing, in a way.

6.) Fran’s storyline needed to have a more satisfactory conclusion. It just sort of ended.

7.) Basch and Gabranth needed to have more personal interactions throughout the story to make their final moments more satisfying.

8.) For that matter, have more personal interactions between the party and both Dr. Cid and Vayne. We meet both of them a total of two times…over the course of a 40-hour game. Too disconnected from the party’s actions to give much motivation for us to defeat them.

8.) Why did they not use Vossler’s actions as a bigger plot point, with Basch trying to stop Vossler from doing what Basch was accused of? It’s sort of there, but it ends far too quickly. Big missed opportunity.

9.) More judge fights! We fight a total of three, Ghis, Bergan and Gabranth. I wanted more judge bosses!

10.) To add to that, have more context for some of the bosses. It kind of felt like so many of the bosses were there just for the sake of being bosses, and there’s only so many times I can say to myself, “It’s probably a guardian of whatever place.”

11.) I still don’t get the love people have for Ashe. I just don’t get it.

12.) And finally, Larsa should have been the main character. End of story.

…Yeah, that’s the summarized version.

Conclusion

All things considered, I definitely had a different experience playing through The Zodiac Age compared to when I first played FFXII twelve fourteen years ago. And ultimately this is why I decided on playing this game again. I wanted to see if my opinion had changed, if I could look at it from another perspective rather than just negative memory. And although some of my feelings haven’t changed, it’s good to look back on something and see that maybe it isn’t exactly as I recall it.

Let’s go back to the big questions I proposed at the beginning of this review.

First, is Final Fantasy XII as bad of a game as I remember it being when it was first released? No, it’s certainly not. I think the changes made to the license board made the combat more enjoyable for me, and by extension it seemed less of a hassle and more of an actual game. I enjoyed running around and exploring more, and the bosses and hunts were more entertaining as well. While I’m still not fond of the gambit system, I wasn’t as irritated by it and actually found myself experimenting more with it.

Second, would I change my claim about Final Fantasy XII being my least favorite game in the franchise? Eh, probably not. Again, even with the alterations made to the game, there are still a lot of things that I personally was not a fan of, especially involving the story. I’m one of those people who love the story of a game more than anything else (which is clearly why I prefer RPGs to any other game genre). Since the story is still the weakest aspect of FFXII, in my opinion, especially compared to other Final Fantasy games, the game overall doesn’t grab me as much as some of the earlier ones. It’s still a good game, but not great. To be fair, short of completely overhauling the storyline and characters, it would the difficult change those aspects for the better in just a remaster. This makes me wonder how the FFVII remake is going to go, but the jury’s still out on that one.

With all the various opinions and thoughts about what makes a video game good, it’s hard for developers to create what might be considered a perfect game for everyone, and the Final Fantasy franchise is no exception. That doesn’t mean a game cannot be corrected to make it better than the original. That’s what is good about patches and remasters. It gives the developers another opportunity to improve on what was criticized. Final Fantasy XII: The Zodiac Age definitely succeeds in this, even if there are still parts that are not quite as good.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Kingdom Hearts DLC to play and then proceed to tear apart.

#final fantasy xii #ffxii #the zodiac age #retrospective #review #my opinion

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