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crybabykiko · 4 years ago

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Szn’s Creamings

Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oof a lot sorry- eggnog(its delicious and you’re all just mean), corruption if you squint, clandestine sex I guess? Choking, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), nipple play, the Miya accent, improper use of Christmas decorations, bondage, unprotected sex(you should know to expect this from my writing by now), vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies/breeding, use of the word daddy like ONCE, cum eating, a dash of overstim for optimal flavor, ahegao (😌) aaaaand snowballing (aka spitting cum in someone’s mouth) swearing obviously ummmmm shit man idk anymore I’m 999% sure that’s it- good shit below da cut

Wc: 2.5k

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a VERY Happy Holiday no matter your culture’s festivities! This is part of my collab with my lovely friends in The Sewer Server- @rat-suki ty anu for organizing it all! I’m love u. This fic was written in an eggnog & fireball induced blackout, and is singlehandedly fueled by lust for Osamu’s Dorito body and my love for Steak n’ Shake.

Cheese-on’s Greetings Collab mlist here 🎄🎁🐁

“This... is it?” He cocked an eyebrow at the concoction, the red and green sprinkles bleeding dye into the whipped cream, the sad cherry on top sunken into it.

“This is what you’ve been goin’ on about fer the last 3 weeks?”

This- was an eggnog milkshake. A wintertime classic, and a staple at the local diner in your hometown. Simple enough. It didn’t look like much- in fact, it honestly wasn't. But to you, this shitty, artificially-flavored diner milkshake encompassed all the joys of holiday magic into one tall, frosted glass. You could count the years you spent in this diner, knocking them back. You’ve grown of course, but the nostalgia always stays the same. Having Osamu come to your hometown for the holidays was a pretty big step in your relationship, sure, but including him in the milkshake tradition usually reserved for your best friend? That was even bigger.

“You haven’t even taken a sip, you ass,” you giggled, putting your own straw to your lips, reveling in the cool flavor that was coating your tongue. Pure sugar, just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon- perfect as always. You pushed the glass over to him, urging him to try for himself. He took in a large drink, letting it rest before clicking his tongue a few times and looking over at your eyes- eyes that were aglow with anticipation and gingerbread men? No, that was just the reflection of the gaudy tinsel that adorned the booth you sat in.

“Soooo?”

“Not bad,” he sighed, pushing the glass back your way. Always anticlimactic.

“But I could definitely make one that’s better.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

One thing you knew he could never resist was a challenge. Grabbing his wallet, he slammed some bills on the table, whisking you away from the diner in 2 minutes flat, the milkshake an ever present memory, like that of the favorite Christmas gift from childhoods passed. You didn’t think he’d take it that seriously, but you also knew that Osamu took everything- especially food- seriously.

Even still, the drive back to your parents’ was a calm one, like every night adventure. The only difference was the bitter cold in the air, and the soft crooning of songs about Santa Claus on the radio. The only thing was- you just couldn’t stop pressing your thighs together….

“Put it away, sir.” you said jokingly, shifting your current position on the couch. Miracle on 34th Street shown on the small screen of the television as you flicked through what seemed like every Christmas movie ever made with the remote. The feeling of his cock starting to stiffen at your back told you everything you needed to know; that Osamu wasn’t interested in whether or not Santa Claus was real, or whatever the ‘true’ meaning of Christmas was- he was solely interested in the meaning of that which currently resided between your legs.

A sneaky had drifted under your shirt, breath hitching in your throat as his thick fingers rolled one of your nipples, the soft tugging leaving you mewling as the sensation traveled down to your now throbbing clit. You leaned into it for a split second, but you were bought back to reality by the sight of your family’s Christmas photos on the fireplace mantle. There was no way in hell you could get fucked in front of a photo of your grandmother. You swatted Osamu’s hand away.

“We can NOT do this right now-” your words fell on deaf ears as his hand snaked up your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as he settled them right above your stomach, fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts.

“My mom and dad are literally upstairs��.” The words left your mouth faintly your body lurching toward him.

Again, you tried. A valiant attempt. It wasn’t a lie- they most certainly were upstairs, presumably fast asleep, as they had been up there for almost two hours now, leaving you and Osamu to watch a few corny Christmas movies- or so they thought. But he saw through your objections. Hearing the way your voice softened, seeing how your chest wavered as he got closer and closer to your face, he simply couldn’t contain himself.

“It’s not my fault ‘ya wanted to stay here,” he huffed, large hands seizing your own, pushing away their protests as he passed his thumb up and down your clothed slit. You bit your lip in an effort to silence the moan that was bubbling its way up and out of your mouth. You had started to become feverish, your own state of vulnerability apparent as Osamu used one arm to pin your wrists above your head, sending your lower half flailing and bucking up into his free hand as you whimpered desperately for his touch.

“You want it, don’t ya, little love?” Little love. The one pet name you could never resist. Almost like a switch, you moaned a particularly needy, not-so-hushed “hmmhm- yes, daddy,” that definitely would have blown your cover. Luckily, Osamu’s thick fingers worked their way into your mouth to silence you, your lips immediately wrapping around them and obediently sucking to heed his words.

“Just be s’quiet as possible,” his hushed tone came out in a low baritone. He pressed a finger to his lips, pointing another up toward the ceiling from the couch of your parents living room.

Keeping your arms restrained, your boyfriend’s free hand pushed past your layers of clothes, your saliva coated his fingers, providing just enough slickness to enter your hole with ease, gently curling against that soft spot right inside. You were so warm, so needy, easily molding into his touch as he watched your eyes widen within his. You fixed your mouth to open, but it hung there as his fingers worked, your cunt sucking them in manically.

“F-fuck,” you could barely manage that. “Please I-hmph- please…”

“Use yer words, little love,” he cooed, the tone of his voice was sickeningly slow as he teased you, slowing his fingers down. You bucked your hips in protest, pouting and wiggling underneath him to feel some form of friction.

“Stop Squirmin’.” His demeanor shifted immediately, darkening at your perceived disobedience. The hands that held your wrists met your throat, a half gasp escaping you as he gently squeezed, your face softening into a pout.

“I said- use yer words.”

“Please, please fuck me,” you squeaked. “F-fill me up.”

“Then we gotta find a way t’keep ya nice n’ still. Will you be good fer me?”

You nodded. You always were. Osamu’s ability to render you a compliant, malleable toy for him to fuck was astounding. You could spend the rest of your life being his obedient little thing without a care in the world or a complaint.

“I know ya will,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “My little love’s always s’good…”

You knew you were in for it- but you didn’t expect this. It was a little different from your normal setup, but at the same time, the rush of excitement built in the pit of your stomach just as it did the first time ‘Samu ever bound you. It just so happened that there were some discarded lights nearby the Christmas tree. You could see the glimmer of an idea in his eyes as he plugged them in, smiling as the glow lit up his face. He looked at you on the couch and wiggled his eyebrows- as much as you wanted to laugh out loud, you weren’t in the position to be picky about your rigging tonight. You had to make do.

“It’s…. festive?” You could tell that even he was amused. But amusement aside, the desire that built between you, the stored tension of having not touched each other for almost two days now was clearly screaming to be addressed. His large hands made a bite in the wiring of the lights and they quickly found themselves around your wrists, the illumination beautiful, but also kind of blinding this close to your face. With a kiss to your lips, he moved from your wrists and down toward your torso, trailing an interesting track of holiday cheer into a harness around your chest and tying in your back. Your arms were bent forward at the elbow, snugly enough so that you could wiggle your fists, but your wrists were of no use.

Pushing you onto your knees, you felt the press of your boyfriend’s hand against your back as he repositioned your arms and elbows to place you on all fours. Cool air immediately hit the skin of your lower half as you felt him pull your bottoms off. You wriggled your hips in an effort to help, but instead your flesh was met with an aggressive strike. Managing to catch your discomfort in your throat, a lowered hiss bared through your gritted teeth, soon followed by a sharpened inhale as you felt the presence of him towering over you.

“Been thinking about the way those cute lips were wrapped around that straw all night,” he panted, palming his cock through his sweats. You could see how uncomfortably hard he was- it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t wait to serve him, you couldn’t wait to feel the weight of his thick cock against your tongue- and stretching your pussy past it’s limits.

“I bet’cher sweet mouth wrapped around my cock would look even prettier, don’t ya think?”

His words hit at your core. Your mouth began to water in anticipation as he pulled himself out of his sweats, gently pumping before lining up at your mouth.

Delicately, your tongue swirled down the slit of the head, plush lips wrapping around the pink bulb. Osamu’s hands guided your head down the length, drool sliding out of your mouth and down your chin, where it dripped onto your chest, riddled with bright multicolored light. Slowly, he fucked himself with your throat, allowing you to adjust to his girth.

“Yep,” he exhaled deeply, hissing at how warm your mouth felt around him.

“Ev’n prettier.”

His motions sped up as he bobbed your head up and down, the slight saltiness of his precum going down easily, leaving you practically begging for a full load. You always craved him on your tongue- he tasted much better than any diner milkshake could. The soft gargling of his assault on your throat slowed to a stop as he pulled you off, leaving you gasping for air. Licking the drool from the corners of your lips, Osamu kissed you passionately before throwing your bound body onto the couch.

You clenched haphazardly around his cock as soon as he entered you, head flying forward with the force of his thrusts. His arm held you upright, parallel to his chest as his cock pistoned in and out of your hole.

“‘S-sa-ah!~ ‘Samu- ffuck!” Your eyes snapped shut as he fucked into you. His breathy grunts resounded deep in your ears, sending jolts of molten lust down your spine, chest heaving as you tried keeping your voices down. Your hot, wet cunt sucked him in deeper and deeper each time he entered you- your urge to milk him for everything he had was only made more apparent by it.

“I can feel you baby,” He purred into your ear. “So fucking wet.”

Osamu released you from his hold, letting you fall forward into the couch, one hand pushing your head into the cushions, the other roughly kneading at the flesh where your ass and hip met, digging his nails into the flesh as he began to carnally pound into your pussy. Each stroke hit your sweet spot with a ridiculously precise skill. Your muffled sobs echoed into the cushions of the couch as he drilled you, never once slowing the rate in which his hips snapped into yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if the smacking of his skin against yours woke your parents at this rate- you couldn’t be bothered to care with your orgasm this close to the horizon.

Somehow you managed to free a hand from your twinkling ties, immediately pushing it to your clit to rub it feverishly. The squelching started up shortly after, your ears beginning to ring as your throat squealed itself raw into the deep void beneath you. Osamu pulled you back by your hair, pressing his lips to your ear and clasping a hand to your mouth.

“Keep rubbing that pretty pussy, sweet girl, so fucking close to cumming fer me, aren’t ya?”

You could only whine in response. He softened the hand on your mouth, muffled words spilling out.

“I’m gonna cu-ah-cum! Please let me cum!”

“Hmmm? Gonna cum? Did I hear ya right, little love?” He knew what he was doing, egging you on like this.

You were mere milliseconds away from losing it, the edge pulling up to you so close that you could barely collect yourself as you began to feel yourself slip over it- eyes whiting out as Osamu gave you the go-ahead.

“Just let me c-” he finished your sentence for you.

“Cum.” It was a simple word, a simple command. But the way it hit your ears: the way the low growl tore through your body- you didn't stand a chance. The warm wetness of your release sprayed against his abs, trickling down your thighs and pooling into the upholstery. Your eyes crossed, face contorting further into lewd bliss as a scream tried to escape your mouth- but only silence hiccuped its way out.

“Good fucking girl- now take this, baby. Take it all…” God, he was the devil.

Fucking you through it- your boyfriend chased his own high, cock twitching inside as the vision of you wrapped in lights blurring into colorful stars as he spilled into you, his load coating your insides with a mass of sticky, soothing heat. You both collapsed into each other, bodies writhing as you caught your heavy breaths.

As he slipped out of you, Osamu lifted your hips to his mouth, sucking in the mixture of his and your own release, savoring it on his tongue. Your puffy, fucked-out cunt spasmed at the contact, the sensation overwhelming as you tugged at his steely grey locks, snapping his head back.

“Hmmph- s’too much ‘Samu!” Your thighs clamped together as soon as he released you.

Humming a soft apology, he moved up from your lower lips to the upper ones, pushing his tongue past them, spitting arousal across your tongue. You swallowed the mixture greedily, smiling against his lips. You could still feel ropes of cum pouring from your spamming hole and leaking onto your thighs.

“Whaddaya think?” The words were slurred against the skin at the crook of your neck while he peppered your skin with kisses.

“Delicious.” You looked at him with a smirk, mind still hazy as your body shook its way through a few more aftershocks.

“Told ya I could make a better milkshake.”

As he said it, laughter broke out between the two of you. Your chest struggled against the harness, as it was still pretty tight. Osamu unplugged the decorations, gently untying you as snow fell outside your living room window, the faint jingling of bells filling the room again as the tv light illuminated you both.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukeis @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

#cheese on’s greetings #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #osamu smut #osamu x reader #daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu headcanon #hq headcanons #hq writing #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fic #hq fic

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powerpuff-ali · 4 years ago

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I need more of that Mitch is secretly gay thing like it gave me so much serotonin 😔🤚🏽✨

This was pretty fun to write out and it kind of spiraled into its own thing lol (btw I’m so sorry I took a few days on this. I read the ask wrong and came up with a back story to Mitch realizing he was gay):

So Mitch is secretly gay. He puts the pieces together when he’s 14 and is like oh… so this is a thing. He’s never witnessed mlm relationships before so he was never prompted to think about him dating a guy. He refuses to tell his grandmother cuz it’s not like she cares anyway. His parents aren’t around enough either so this poor kid has no one to talk to about this.

He can’t keep it in so he tells Buttercup. She swears to him that she’ll take this secret to her grave if she has to. Blossom and Bubbles or the rest of the friend group are not allowed to know either. Partially out of fear of their reactions but also, he wants to get to know this part of himself without the added pressure. Now, Mitch has to spend even more time with Buttercup which led to rumors that they were together. They never refute it so even the tabloids get a hold of this “juicy” teenage gossip.

“You know, I thought fake dating you would be a perk but you’ve made me unavailable to any good guys here in Townsville.”

“Oh shut up, I get a lecture from Blossom almost everyday because apparently, you’re not a good influence. Dating you isn’t a walk in the park for me either, buddy!”

This is how most of their conversations go and it’s always light-hearted teasing. In all honesty, they benefit greatly from pretending to be together. Buttercup chases away any creeps who try toying with Mitch and Mitch scares away any fanboys who try to harass BC. A true friend pairing if there ever was one.

Mike finally confesses when they’re 20 because holy jeez, Mitch! Mike has been streaming Heather by Conan Gray nonstop. After Mike confesses, Mitch finally has his first official boyfriend! SO… now he and Mike sneak around not because they have to but it’s fun not having people’s unwanted opinions littering their relationship.

Mitch also happens to be extremely oblivious. This poor kid has next to zero experience with other guys who like guys so when Mike starts to hang around him and Buttercup more, he just thinks they’re forming a friend group. BC is Mitch’s horrible wingman. Mike thinks he’s third-wheeling with a punk rock couple (he’s more of a jock type). Mitch just thinks that his friends are neat.

Things that get rationalized with straight logic (what’s betta than this? Guys bein’ doods): hand-holding in the wintertime because its cold and one of them isn’t wearing gloves, clothes swapping to save money, guys sport night at the bar to be each other’s wingman, extremely dedicated spotting during workouts (Mitch sneaks in quick kisses while Mike does bench presses), catching a total kick-ass action movie.

Bring in Butch, who is confused by BC’s whole connection to Mitch and becomes a little extremely obsessive about how much time she spends with Mitch and the other brunette dude Mike. She’s oblivious to romance too so she doesn’t catch Butch’s advances but this isn’t about her.

Mitch being the good friend he is decides he needs to protect BC from this hellspawn until he sees Butch crash through several buildings and crawls out from the rubble laughing without a scratch on him. (he’s thinking, “wtf is this guy on?”) He knows BC can protect herself but he’ll settle for being an extra set of eyes and ears for her.

Because people Butch have a fixed idea of what a gay man looks and acts like, it is assumed that Mitch is challenging Butch for BC’s heart. It looks a little something like this…

Butch: *flirting(?) with BC at the bar*

BC: *body language shifts but it’s only because the stool is uncomfortable*

Mitch: *steps in between them cutting Butch off* Hey, come on! I invited you out here to dance. *praying that Butch doesn’t obliterate him with laser beams*

I’m so sorry this turned out longer than intended and is probably all over the place but you gave me so much to think about now about what I want from these characters so thank you!!!

Situations like that go on long enough that go back to my initial post, this is why Mitch outs himself to Butch. His life literally hangs in the balance.

#PowerPuff Girls #ppg mitch #ppg buttercup #ppg mike #rrb butch #i have so much to think about now #asks

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xenoredux · 5 years ago

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Balto but its been rewritten 24 years after its release

Okay so here's the Balto rewrite lol. It's quite a bit different then The Actual Thing but the plot itself is much the same, as are the major beats of the story. I dropped a lotta goofy shit in there just because it made me laugh, but try and imagine this stuff happening as if it's from an actual 90s movie made by a studio on its last legs.

Some things to know going into it:

I cut out the live actions segments because they seriously didn't matter at all. Like, who cares. The plot is fine without them and I don't think that one line from Rosie at the end makes a huge difference. I guess it's nice to see the statue but even than it's like..... whatever

In my fantasy world, Balto was a standalone movie that didn't spark any sequels. Eventually I'll write out my version of the sequels if they'd actually been good, but in the universe of this rewrite for this film, a Balto "franchise" never existed, hence why the ending is sorta different

It's still a "historical" fiction that holds very little relation to the actual events. There's a touch more actual history in there, but c'mon. You're not reading talking dog movie fanfic to learn anything. Pick up a book if you care about the actual serum run and don't get on my juicy ass about it if some things remain inaccurate

Please also note that I didn't baby this as much as I should have, so some major plot elements that are kinda stupid are likely still in there (I'm not a good writer lbr). I don't believe this is necessarily "better" then the OG, I just tweaked some stuff that always pissed me off about it. I also re-included cut content I thought was more interesting and made more sense then what we ended up getting.

There's also a handful of fake screenshots throughout for shits and giggles, and I'll likely have at least one or two more to share later this month. Some links to past character designs are also provided for easy reference so you can make up scenes in your head but with Brand Spankin’ New Designz.

So here's Balto v2.0!

The year is 1925, and it's wintertime in Nome, Alaska. Two dogsled teams are participating in a race. A malamute named Steele leads his team against a powerful, but older and more experienced mutt named Wild Joe. Steele, despite being a decorated and much beloved champion lead dog, is a massive dick, and he snaps at a critical moment at one of Joe's teammates. Joe's team wipes out, his chances of winning are in shambles, and Steele is waaay in the lead.

A flare is shot into the air to let the enthused waiting townsfolk know that Steele's team has passed the race's 3 mile mark. Meanwhile, watching from his perch on the balcony of a house, a wolfdog named Balto excitedly bounds back and forth, unable to contain his excitement. He simply cannot sit still despite the protests of his closest friend Boris, an old Russian-Jewish goose who isn't a fan of all the excitement. Balto drags Boris around the roofs of the houses, ignoring his chiding all the while, until he can see the finish line of the race.

Back down on Earth, a young girl named Rosie is inside a woodworker's shop. She's receiving a gift she adores: a beautiful handmade sled, perfectly fitted to her size. The sled includes a harness in front that also perfectly fits her dog, a purebred copper Siberian husky named Jenna. Rosie's parents playfully lecture her to not lose the sled like she loses her other belongings. Almost as quickly as she receives the sled, Rosie and Jenna are trotting down the street in their new getup.

Jenna comes to rest in the race's sidelines among a group of other female dogs. The smallest of them all, a Pomeranian named Dixie, chides Jenna for allowing herself to be made a sled dog, even if it is in the spirit of make believe. After all, a canine of her slender frame and social standing shouldn't be performing manual labor. Jenna sighs at her friend's internalized misogyny and eugenics talk, rolling her eyes as if to say "oh you!"

Nor should someone of her persuasion be meeting up with any strays, Dixie continues while going on to show her racist side, for Balto and Boris have just plodded up to the group. The other girls scoff and huff at Balto's arrival, but Jenna and Rosie both are glad to see him. Rosie gives the wolfdog a hug, telling him to keep outta sight of The Parental Units. Just then, Steele's team rounds the corner, and Rosie waves her hat at them as if it's a foam finger and this is the most arduous baseball game in history. A sudden gust of wind picks up her hat and sweeps it into the path of the oncoming team. Rosie begins to panic and, while Jenna soothes her, Balto runs out alongside the advancing sled team to retrieve it.

Balto manages to snag and deliver the hat before Steele passes the finish line, which visibly upsets Steele. His owner speaks to the man who leads Wild Joe's team. He seems unimpressed with Steele's performance, enough so that Wild Joe's owner admits it's likely time that Joe was retired. The two imply that if a sled dog can't even outrun Steele, it's time for him to hang up his harness, even if he is wearing a bitchin' little number they speak in awe of called "A Golden Collar", a veritable necklace of medals awarded to sled dogs who have proven they don't suck. As one can imagine, this pisses Steele off something fierce. He gazes into the reflection of his face in his own golden collar, getting a bit of anger-saliva on it in the process.

The important thing, of course, is that Balto managed to save Rosie's hat. Jenna thanks him and playfully teases him about how nuts he'd have to be to do something like run alongside a car made of dogs, to which the quiet Balto just smiles. Rosie's dad isn't smiling very much, though, because all he saw was the town's favorite punching bag running wild with his daughter's hat. He swears at Balto and kicks snow his way, spooking him into running off down the street. Rosie's dad herds his child away, scolding her for playing with wild animals, while Jenna tries to follow her friend. Unable to recognize where he's not wanted, Steele blocks Jenna's path and starts flexing about his elite gamer/sledding skills. The other girl dogs can barely contain their ovaries around him, but Jenna just politely excuses herself as Steele begins spouting off insensitive remarks about "the howler from the cannery".

But Balto's not going home just yet. He knows exactly how to navigate the neighborhood and find his companion. Boris complains about the cold and how much he's walked around today, so he pisses off back to to their place. Balto simply shrugs and wanders until he finds Jenna again. He trails behind her, hiding in various places along the street as Jenna follows her masters home. Jenna talks passionately about how she'd love to do something big and hella just to show up guys like Steele. Balto encouragingly comments on how he's sure she'd be the best at whatever she did, and she smiles at him in a particularly heterosexual way.

Eventually the two part ways, and Balto decides it's time to go home. As he trots along, he notices a glove that Rosie dropped. He smiles and rolls his eyes as he picks it up and turns to head to Jenna's and give it back. Unfortunately for him, Steele's ego bruises like a banana and heals just about as well, so the meat-headed malamute has dragged along his team to harass the town's token minority once he was alone. The only dog on the team who seems against harassing someone for something they can't control is Star, Steele's smaller, weaker, more cowardly little brother. Steele jeers at Star for being too much of a puss to participate in the g-rated hate crime before rolling a barrel in Balto's direction. Balto's bowled over by it and falls face first into a bucket.

Steele's team howls with laughter, then literally howls in an effort to insult Balto. The words "howler" and "feral" are thrown around a lot as Balto struggles to free his face from the pail. He never manages to, and before Steele can harass him some more, his musher calls out for him and the rest of the team. Steele calls his men to his side and makes his way out. The only one who trails behind is Star, who gingerly pops the bucket off of Balto's head. The two stare wordlessly at each other for a moment, the stunned Balto dwarfing the underdeveloped Star, before Star gets too scared to stay any longer and books it. Balto looks around himself for Rosie's mitten, but he can't find it. He sighs and begins heading towards the harbor.

As Balto walks through the cannery, the other stray and unloved dogs take notice of him and begin jeering at him. Despite how pitiful-looking they are, almost all of them feel the need to tell Balto in livid detail about just how shit he is in comparison because of his wolf heritage. Those who don't jeer hateful words hole up and hide from him as he passes them by.

Boris takes notice of Balto returning home, and he goes to wave to him with his one good wing before noticing something peculiar on the hill by the shoreline: wolves! A small pack of wolves take notice of Balto. They even begin howling to him. It's clear that they're inviting him to join their DnD party, and for a tense moment Boris is afraid Balto will run after them. But Balto simply shrinks away, shaking his head. His shoulders slump and he makes his way to the wrecked boat he and Boris live on.

Boris attempts to cheer Balto up with some wAcKy SlApStIcK cOmEdY before having to realize that harming himself is increasingly silly ways will not cure Balto's bigotry induced depression. He slumps against Balto as the two notice a flock of geese flying overhead. Balto asks Boris what it was like in "the old country", and Boris soothes in the most Russian voice ever conceived what are likely concerns he's heard many times before by assuring Balto he came to Alaska for good reason because the old country sucked. He also assures Balto that the busted wing he has was the best thing that ever happened to him, because it meant he got to live in Nome and find that lonely wolfdog kid those several years back. Balto can't help but crack a smile.

When the sun has gone down, Balto begins to leave the hovel he calls home. Boris reminds him to be careful on his nightly excursion to find food, to which Balto merely smiles and nods. He pads past the sleeping cannery dogs and back towards town.

Meanwhile, Jenna is sitting outside of the hospital doorway. She watches as her masters lead Rosie inside. Rosie's gotten a nasty cough, and she makes an odd wheezing noise when she breathes. As mom and pop speak to the very busy doctor, Rosie gazes out the window at Jenna, waving and smiling at her. Jenna stands up excitedly, but feels her heart sink into her stomach as Rosie has the sort of coughing fit a Flintstone's chewable can't fix. Her parents come to lead her away from the window. Jenna tries her damnedest to find a way to peer inside from around the back. There is a window, but she's unable to reach it, even as she's standing on her hind legs.

Balto, dirty from digging around in garbage, spots Jenna's vibrant red coat from across the way. He calls out to her softly, and though she does acknowledge his greeting, she barely responds. This concerns Balto, and he comes to join her under the window. She explains that she wants to see in, and Balto allows her to climb up and stand on his back to do so. She obliges, too worried about Rosie's well-being to thank him, and gazes longingly inside.

She climbs down from Balto a beat later, saying how she wishes she could understand what was happening in there. Most of what went on was just the doctor talking. Balto pauses and thinks for a moment, and then tells Jenna he has an idea. He leads her around to the boiler room placed adjunct to the hospital where the doctor's dog, a St. Bernard appropriately named Doc, spends his nights. The two make their way inside.

Doc is in fact there, snoring like a buzz-saw on crack. Balto gently wakes him up, and at first he's both annoyed to be woken and offput by The Wolfdog being in his face, but when Jenna explains the situation to him he becomes much more amiable. He leads the two over to the crawlspace under the hospital, stating there's far too much of him to love to allow him to fit under with them. Balto and Jenna thank him and go inside.

The two creep through the creepy underside of the hospital until they find themselves under a grate beneath the doctor's desk. The doctor discusses with the nurses how the children of Nome have diphtheria, a fast acting, aggressive disease that causes fatal epidemics. The anti-toxin he was able to treat the first few cases with has run out, and without it, all infected children will surely die within two weeks' time.

Jenna is unsurprisingly distraught at the idea of her favorite person on the planet dying a slow, painful death, so she scrambles out of the crawlspace and begins crying. Balto follows close behind her to see that Doc has already begun to comfort her. He apologizes for bringing Jenna here, to which Jenna states she's glad he did. Aside from Jenna's gentle sobbing, all is silent for a moment. Suddenly, a loud crash can be heard outside. Everyone turns to see Steele and his dogs have come back to ruin another scene. Doc becomes upset at the sudden influx of uninvited guests crowding up his personal space, so he goes to alert the doctor and get them all the fuck outta there. Meanwhile, the team menaces Balto while Steele tries to impress Jenna by pulling Rosie's missing mitten out of his collar. He offers to walk Jenna home to deliver it to her family as the team, lead by a pitifully unintimidating Star, back a snarling Balto into the corner.

Jenna's obviously not interested in Dog Gaston's posturing, but she's also got an IQ higher then 6 and understands that he's not going to go away simply because she asks him to. As Balto watches from out the corner of his eye, Jenna flirtatiously backs Steele into the glowing red boiler. She mutters something about meatballs under her breath as Steele begins to howl and shriek in pain. The smell of burning dog ass and the cries of a defeated jock archetype alert people to the scene, and all the dogs begin to scatter. Balto and Jenna try to join the reverse flash mob, but Steele flings himself hard into Balto and forces all of them to stumble. Lanterns shine in the literal dogpile's direction. Steele refuses to get off of Balto, so Balto insists that Jenna get away. She forgets about Rosie's mitten, which Balto snags to keep away from Steele's posturing self, and the men finally descend upon the dogs.

Someone pulls Steele off of Balto, and he begins making as if he's injured, intentionally limping and stumbling melodramatically around. The men start to make a fuss about the wolfdog injuring the town's best runner when one of them, Rosie's dad, notices his daughter's missing mitten in Balto's mouth. He begins yelling and kicking at the dog, going on about how he's dangerous and he'd better not go anywhere near his child ever again. Balto tucks tail and barrels out of town, and all the men stroke a miraculously healed Steele to compensate for the trauma of being attacked by a dog half his size.

As Balto pounds pavement, he passes the telegraph office, wherein an important message is being sent. A request for more anti-toxin to treat the epidemic is being relayed, and in it are the details of why this situation is uniquely urgent: the Alaskan winter is doing its worst, bringing blizzards severe enough that ships and planes alike cannot manage to deliver the medicine. Nome's best bet becomes obvious: use a train to deliver the medicine as closely to Nome as they can, then set up relay teams of sled dogs to receive and deliver the anti-toxin.

The morning after the message has been sent, the town organizes a race to test which dogs in town have the highest stats in stamina, speed, and agility. Almost every husky in town is lined up to race... all except a very upset Jenna, who keeps insisting the other dogs make room for her. Some dogs look at her with concern. Others laugh. But most of them seem convinced that her place is here in Nome, keeping her people company and not chipping any of her nails. Dixie tries to lead Jenna away from the race, but Jenna's so pissed that she angrily stomps away from the race altogether.

Balto, who has been hiding around town this whole time, slips out of the shadows to meet her. She vents loudly to him about being disallowed to participate because of the snot-nosed chauvinists running the race. If Balto didn't know the depth of her conviction before, he certainly does now; she begins to cry angry tears over what will happen to Rosie.

Balto can't stand to see a grown womandog cry, but he's worried about what will happen if he tries to line up with the other dogs. Everyone believes he attacked Steele, after all. Nobody would tolerate him joining the race... at least, not while they're all there. He wordlessly slips away from Jenna, assuring her he has a plan. In a moment he's disappeared. The race is about to start, and Boris has hobbled into town. He goes over to Jenna and begins complaining about how Balto didn't come home last night. Jenna tells him it's a long story, but that she's sure he'll turn up again soon. Maybe. Hopefully.

The starting gun is fired off, and the dogs take off with the speed and accuracy of drunken Nascar drivers. Just as soon as they've all bolted, Balto boltos past the starting line right in tow, which causes some reasonable upset among the crowd given word of Steele's definitely-real-not-made-up scuffle with the wolfdog has spread fast.

Despite the jeering Balto is faced with, he continues on. By this point, Jenna and Boris have noticed him running, and they begin to cheer him on as they scramble to keep up with him. Turns out wolves and their relatives are pretty fast.

In contrast to the other dogs, Balto's saving grace isn't just his speed, but his ingenuity. Balto breaks off of the track as he begins advancing on the dogs in an effort to avoid their snarling and snapping at him. He shows his cleverness by traversing obstacles like frozen ponds, hanging pulleys, and crumbling wooden beams that bridge buildings, all while maintaining pace with the other dogs. Any townsfolk who are capable of seeing him are too impressed with his abilities to remember his alleged attempted dogmurder.

To the surprise of literally nobody reading this, Balto manages to cross the finish line before anybody else, which includes an especially tilted Steele. Unexpectedly, several townsfolk cheer for our parkour-loving protagonist, and Balto's face lights up in pleasure, having never experienced praise from basically any human person.

Steele and Wild Joe's mushers come around to give Balto the once over, discussing how he'd be an invaluable asset to any team. Joe's musher believes he'd made a good replacement for Joe now that that dog's been laid off of his animaljob. Balto ingratiates his coy self with a gentle tail wag, and Steele has literally never been more angry in his life. His ego as sore as a freshly kicked-in face, Steele looks around for some way to prove Balto is totes nasty. A toothy grin spreads across his face as he spots Jenna leading a hobbling Boris over, and he quickly rushes the goose and snags him up, carrying him away.

Balto doesn't like seeing his surrogate feathered father being doghandled, so he snarls and chases after Steele, startling the men. The men follow Balto, who is following Steele, who is following his own evil agenda. Steele tosses Boris off the nearby harbor, and the bird struggles to collect himself in the icy water. Balto rushes Steele, still snarling. This spooks Steele's musher, and he begins throwing rocks at Balto. The man tells the wolfdog to stay away from his animal, and he states to Wild Joe's musher why Balto would be useless as a sled dog: he can't manage to get along with other canines. He's too wild. The two men collect Steele and depart as Balto similarly collects Boris, who is little more then a honking popsicle by now.

As Balto begins carrying Boris home, Jenna stops him and asks what happened. Balto gruffly states that Jenna's master would be angry to see her speaking to him. After all, he doesn't get along with other dogs given how wild he is. Jenna is so surprised by her friend lashing out at her that she can't speak, and she watches solemnly and wordlessly as Balto and Boris make like Rosie's health and disappear.

That night, the relay teams are being dispatched. The electric cross hanging on the church steeple is turned on - the pastor says that so long as there's hope for the children, the light will stay lit and the electric bill will stay high - and a handful of teams are sent out, including Steele's. The sick children watch from inside the hospital. Jenna watches from her new favorite spot just under one of the hospital's front windows, her face contorted in worry. From his ship, Balto ignores Boris's cacophanic snoring as he watches the teams head out. He gives a sigh.

A day passes as the relay teams power through the awful weather. Steele's team receives the medicine from another team who just had it delivered to them by train. Now Steele's gang is intended to deliver the medicine once again to the team of a dog named Togo. Unfortunately, Steele's unwarranted self-importance prevents this, as he dislikes the idea of not being the guy to deliver the goods to town. He tells Star that he doesn't need to follow the rules of the relay - he knows the way home and he can do this himself. He intentionally ignores the path to Togo and drags his team helplessly onward, and none of them but Star are any the wiser.

The governor's dog calls a meeting in the boiler room for all the other dogs in town. It's been longer then the townsfolk expected it to take for the meds to arrive, and everyone is getting ants in their collective pants. Balto watches the meeting from outside a window to maintain some discreetness. Doc tries to calm everybody down once they begin panicking, but they're all too much in a tizzy thinking about what will happen to the kids to hear him. Suddenly, the rabbling of the crowd is halted when a sharp, reverberating bark cuts through the noise. Everyone turns to the door.

In the doorframe stands the tall, bulky silhouette of an unknown beefcake. The dog steps into the light, and Wild Joe finally announces his presence verbally and not just cinematically. He informs the dogs that he's had a lot of time to wander since being unharnessed, and tonight he wandered by the telegraph office. He's a gifted enough fella to understand Morse code and the hopeless sighs of an old man sending 1800s text messages, and he informs the dogs that Steele's team broke the relay chain. Nobody knows where they are, which means, more importantly, nobody knows where the medicine is. Wild Joe suggests that the dogs make peace with the passing of their childfolk before he steps back outside and disappears into the snowy night.

Whatever the dogs inside the boiler room are saying, Balto can't hear it. Not just because their voices are drowning each other out, but because he's stricken with too much grief to care. Rosie has only been getting worse. What's going to happen to her?

Meanwhile in the hospital, the doctor is managing as well as one can to explain to the parents of the sick children that their one hope of salvation may or may not be lost to the elements forever. This barely registers with the horribly ill Rosie who, despite being in the same room as a doctor forcing her parents to confront her mortality, is now too sick to lift her head from her pillow. In an effort to afford their child a sliver of comfort, Rosie's folks allows Jenna into her room. Jenna pads loyally over to her girl, and for just a second Rosie's eyes flutter open. "Jenna?" is all she can manage to wheeze out before passing back into unconsciousness. Jenna gloomily rests her head on her owner's chest, whimpering softly.

Balto pads through town. Nobody is really out at night anymore. They're all crowding the hospital to keep close to their children. Balto's main goal is to find Jenna, to discuss this horrible thing with her, but he's distracted as he passes by the woodworker's shop. The same jolly man who had made Rosie her bitchin' new sled was now hunched sadly over a new, much less bitchin', much more morbid project: tiny coffins, each no bigger then 4 feet tall. A small collection of them has formed in a corner of the room. Balto shakes his head and gasps, breaking out of a stupor he was not previously aware he was in. Something has to be done.

The morning sun is peaking out over the horizon when Balto begins to depart from his home. He trots down from the harbor and along the shoreline, aiming to enter the forest the teams left through. Boris is plodding behind him, slipping around on frozen patches of sea water and flopping around in puddles of slush. He's going on and on, trying desperately to convince Balto not to waste his efforts on a town of people who'd be perfectly happy if he were dead. Balto doesn't reply, instead flashing Boris a solemn look. His eyes light up with new intention, and he grabs Boris by the beak, dragging him along as the old goose honks angrily.

Balto releases Boris as the two come to the back of the hospital. Jenna, who had once again settled out front, hears the commotion of the intensely pissed off bird wailing and honking. Balto wordlessly releases Boris, and just before Boris can complain further, Jenna comes over to the two. She and Balto share one miserable, knowing look before Jenna begins to cry. She presses her face into Balto's neck, weeping softly into his fur. Another child is herded into the hospital by a concerned parent. The girl wheezes and shakes violently as the door closes behind her. Boris looks on, all anger having subsided.

Instead, he says in a very business-like tone that Balto needs to hurry up if he's going to find the lost team. And he shouldn't keep Boris waiting. Boris is an old man who hates waiting more then he hates traveling. Boris begins to waddle off back towards the forest, and Balto can't help but smile. Jenna presses the pause button on crying long enough to ask what Boris means, to which Balto states that neither he nor his old man can stand idly by any longer.

Jenna understands, and she insists that the two allow her to come with them. It pains her to leave Rosie, but the child is barely ever awake at this point, and inaction won't make the situation better. Balto's smile grows wider, and the three take off to find the missing team themselves.

Hours pass. The three haven't ceased their journey, nor does it seem they've given up hope. Boris certainly has got a lot to bitch about, though. And he does this loudly and frequently as Balto and Jenna lead the way, exchanging words. Jenna vents about how it's ludicrous that Steele, a gloryhound who loves the smell of his own farts, was even selected to do the relay given how hard he is to handle. Balto agrees, if a bit softly. Jenna interrogates him gingerly, asking what happened the day of the race. Balto admits that the townsfolk have gone even more sour on him as of late, and that he's been genuinely afraid to be around anybody now... except for Jenna, of course. Jenna reassures him with the same viciously heterosexual smile as before that she'll stand by him no matter what. Balto can't help but smile back.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the frozen over Hell that is Alaska, Steele is blindly trying to redirect his team onto the trail, but the trail has long gone from his sight. Star, exhausted and growing antsier by the minute, suggests turning around and going back; it's totally obvious now that they're lost. Steele buckles for just a moment before snapping at his brother about how he knows where he's going and, having just told the worst lie in history, begins running directionlessly through the blizzard.

Expectedly, this sends his team careening down into a gully he failed to notice on account of the whole reduced visibility thing. The sled tips over - though it seems the anti-toxin is still secured and unbroken - the musher falls out and hits his head on a rock, and the dogs tumble into a heap. Some of them are bruised. Some of them are worse. But nobody is dead, not even the flame dancing inside the musher's lantern. The only thing that looks dead is Steele's spirit. He stares wide eyed and panting as he realizes the team truly is lost. "What are we gonna do now, Steele?" Star asks hopelessly. Steele doesn't respond.

Night has fallen. It's cold as shit out in the forest, but the three musketeers haven't ceased their journeying yet. Boris, effectively feeding into every stereotype about old men ever, complains about how long this road trip has lasted. Neither Balto nor Jenna have the energy left to respond to him, so they don't. Boris gets huffy and says the kids can keep going if they want, but it's time for him to sleep. He decides to set up a nest on a large snowdrift, and Balto finally gets frustrated and turns to explain to Boris that there's no time to stop now. And then the snowdrift stands up.

A polar bear, hulking and powerful, is standing on its hind legs in front of the dogs. A screaming Russian goose is flapping around on the crown of its head, and the bear immediately begins trying to attack its winged hat. Balto leaps to his grandhonk's rescue, but the bear lands an easy hit on him and sends him flying. The goose isn't nearly as threatening as the wolfdog, so the bear turns to Balto, ready to tear him to pieces.

This understandably displeases Jenna, and she flings herself headlong into the bear to save her friends. She's more lithe and agile then Balto is, which makes it easy for her to dodge most of the bear's swings, but she's not as quick as Balto is, so she still ends up taking a pretty nasty blow to the legs. She flies across the forest floor and strikes Boris, knocking them both to the ground. Meanwhile, Balto's trying to deal with the bear situation on his own. He's not doing so hot, though, as the bear makes like a 90s sitcom bully and starts wailing on him. This sends Balto careening down a hill and across a frozen lake.

The bear quickly follows him. It doesn't seem to notice the ice below it cracking like splintering glass as it walks towards Balto, but Balto sure as hell does. And so do Jenna and Boris, who, despite their injuries, are scrambling to reach Balto before the ice gives. But they're too little too late. The bear takes another step and the busted ice snap crackle pops apart, taking the bear under as it shatters. Balto stumbles away from the gaping icehole that's growing larger and larger.

The bear is thrashing wildly around, foaming up the water and swinging its claws around in the air. Boris thinks fast and grabs Jenna's bandanna to toss out to Balto. As the bear struggles to grab both Balto and the edge of the ice, Balto snags hold of the bandanna and hangs on as his friends drag him from the freezing water. As Balto collapses to the ground, the bear's struggles begin to subside, and finally it drowns.

Balto is badly shaken, but ultimately unharmed. Jenna, however, bit total shit, and now that Balto is safe her strength has left her. Balto and Boris drag Jenna off the lake and lay her down. Balto lays down beside her, shivering hard from his time in the water. Without thinking about it, Jenna pulls herself on top of him, murmuring about how cold he is. Balto tries to argue she should go easy given her injury, but the two go silent instead, smiling gently at each other. Then Balto's eyes light up as he turns to Boris. He thanks the bird for not just saving him, but for coming along in the first place. Boris absolutely beams.

But his grin disappears when the dogs get up... and Jenna falls back down. Balto insists she's too hurt to continue the journey. After all, who knows when they'll find the team? Jenna tries to argue, but falters when Balto insists that without her help he'd be dead now, and he'd be devastated if something happened to her out here. Jenna asks Boris to take her back to Nome when she notices that he's waddled a short distance away. He's gazing intently at something, looking worried and guilty. Balto pads over to where Boris is staring into space to see what the fuss is about.

Turns out the fuss is about two hairy little things: twin polar bear cubs. One is slightly bigger then the other, though he may just be bigger boned then his brother. The two are huddled close to each other, whimpering and cooing. It's obvious they're very young, toddlers at most. "Oh no," murmurs Balto. The cubs gaze up at the two with wide, frightened eyes. Nobody has to guess what happened to their mother, and Balto feels himself overwhelmed with guilt too.

The cubs follow Boris closely as Balto goes back to Jenna. He tells her that he's sorry she can't continue the journey, but that she can help by keeping the bear cubs safe until they know what to do with them. Jenna agrees and the two smile warmly at each other. Jenna offers up her bandanna to Balto "to keep him warm" despite how small it is as Boris helps her onto a large tree branch. Boris begins instructing the cubs on how to help, going demanding grandad on them in record time, and Jenna wishes Balto good luck. Boris pulls Balto aside and, out of obligation to the source material, tells Balto that a dog cannot make such a journey alone... but maybe a wolf can. The group depart, leaving Balto by himself in the snow.

It's a snowy night in Nome. A somber mood hangs so thickly in the air that one can almost taste the chunky sadness. The streets are empty aside from one stray black mass. It's Wild Joe, makin' his way downtown. He passes the hospital and sees a child who is obviously ill but not in bed. Joe's face crinkles in pain as the child, a boy, coughs so hard he wracks his body in great tremors. Joe pulls himself away from the sight and, face to the ground, starts walking faster. In a moment he passes the telegraph office. His ears perk rhythmically to the beeps of the morse code. He whispers sweet nothings to himself like, "Cannot send more antitoxin. Weather too severe. Lost sled team only hope. Our prayers are with them."

Meanwhile, in a somehow less depressing part of the Alaskan tundra, Balto has finally caught sight of a glowing pink light. The wind is too hard for him to smell properly, but as he mounts a rise in the path, he can see clearly what rests at the bottom of the slope. It's the team! The pink glow is the light from the sled's lantern. Balto's so beside himself with joy that he throws himself headlong down the slope, previously unaware of how slippery the embankment really was. He only just manages to gain his footing at the bottom of the hill. The sled dogs look up at him in amazement, unfurling themselves from the miserable balls of fur they'd tried desperately to wrap themselves in. "Balto!" is heard in a wave of gasps.

Balto begins asking a slew of questions. What happened, is the musher okay, etc. etc. Everyone does their best to answer. Everyone, that is, except Steele, who has been sulking wordlessly since Balto arrived. Once he's gotten a satisfactory amount of info on the situation, Balto picks up one of the now empty harnesses on the sled and tells the dogs he can lead them home. Steele is none too pleased with this, and he steps on the harness, jerking it out of Balto's mouth. Steele insists the dogs will be able to find their way home by themselves - after all, he's leading them.

Everyone immediately becomes uncomfortable as the tension rises. Balto shrugs, assures Steele that he can do as he likes, but that the kids need the anti-toxin and they need it now. Balto knows the way back for certain, so he'd be happy to just take the medicine. Steele just about goes batshit at the suggestion, crouching over the crate of medicine like a wild animal, snarling at Balto. He threatens to rip Balto to pieces if he so much as tries to touch the crate. Someone tells Steele to lighten up, and Steele just about shits himself.

He flings himself headlong into Balto, telling him to get out and leave them be. In the scuffle, the medicine crate is tipped over, where it begins sliding down a tiny incline towards a cliff's edge. Balto eyes it nervously and tries to get to it, but Steele continually throws himself at Balto, snapping and snarling and threatening. The other dogs begin telling Steele to stop, that Balto isn't worth it. Star suggests that maybe just this once the howler might be useful, so the team might want to listen to him. Balto looks Steele dead in the eyes and tells him that children are going to die if everyone can't be all kumbaya for a second.

Steele sneers eerily and simple states that he doesn't care. And with that, he outright flings himself into Balto, tearing into him viciously enough to send him whimpering in pain. The fight halts for just a moment as Steele looks down at the wolfdog, who is now battered and bleeding. Steeles give a triumphant huff and bares his fangs before he notices something. The other dogs are advancing on him. They've stopped their gawking long enough to realize that Steele's intentions haven't just soured. They were never good in the first place. The medicine crate continues its gradual trip down the incline.

Steele is spooked by the dogs encircling him, and he demands they get away from him and back into their harnesses. Meanwhile, Balto, despite his injuries, has wormed his way over to the escaping crate of anti-death juice, finally securing it between his paws. Star turns and notices this, praising him. The other dogs gaze over at him too, finally realizing he's probably an okay guy actually. If Steele was angry before, he's furious now. He leaps over the hoard of dogs that had formed a tight circle around him and barrels at Balto and the medicine, screaming for the wolfdog to let it go. Balto quickly shoves the medicine away from the cliff as Steele snags him by the bandanna. The two dogs teeter totter on the side of the cliff before the bandanna rips in half. Steele unceremoniously falls off the cliff's edge, tumbling down into the valley below.

Balto cringes at the sight as Steele refuses to get up from his epic fail landing. Still, there's no time to lose. Balto hobbles over to the sled, surprised to find the other dogs are securing themselves in their harnesses. All except three, that is. One dog, a Chinook by the name of Kaltag, notices an especially icky wound on Balto's leg, and he uses what remains of Jenna's bandanna to wrap it. Another dog, a chow mix named Nikki, is placing the musher in the sled. The man's in rough shape, but he's still alive. Finally Balto takes his place at the head of the team, where Star is holding the harness up for him. Balto slips into it, and it fits like a glove. He takes a moment to breathe and marvel at the situation.

The dog sled takes off again. As it departs, a couple of white paws grapple their way up the cliff's edge. Steele hoists himself out of the valley. He's bruised all over, but he's alive, and he's none too happy. He wastes no time. He tucks the remains of Jenna's bandanna into his collar and begins rushing after the dogs. The guy may be bulky and injured, but he's full of enough rage adrenaline (ragedrenaline?) to overpower an elephant's higher thinking, and he's not slowing down til the sled has stopped.

It doesn't take long for Steele to catch up to Balto. He tells Balto to stop the sled and leave the team alone, but Balto insists Steele doesn't know the way. The other dogs all but tell Steele to fuck off given they've seen what kind of person he is, but Steele doesn't care. He pulls out a handy dandy trick he's been itching to repeat since the beginning of this summary and snaps at Balto's legs, tripping him up. Balto regains his footing quickly enough so as not to slow down the team, but oh no! A moment later, Steele snaps again, this time grabbing Balto's injured ankle.

The wolfdog can't recover so easily from that, and he falls over. The team goes tripping and spilling across the icy forest floor. Steele allows himself to fall behind and watch the destruction unfold. The team is barreling towards another cliff's edge, and Balto's meager frame isn't enough to cancel out the laws of inertia. Balto slides out of his harness as the other dogs try to stall their descent, finally bringing everything to a standstill as the crate of medicine teeters on the cliff's edge.

Balto dives forward and snags the crate, and the team praises him... seconds before the cliff's edge starts to crumble. As the rock breaks to pieces beneath his feet, Balto and the antitoxin fall into the snowy abyss below. "Aaaaaa," is how Kevin Bacon put it.

The next morning, everyone is abuzz is Nome. The people even pull themselves away from their sick kids in the excitement, curious to see what's happening. Something has arrived, though it's not the medicine. The dogs are equally riveted, huddled in the boiler room to discuss their own canine-centric news. Turns out Jenna returned home the previous night, aided by two polar bear cubs and a goose. The dogs prattle on excitedly, asking a weary Jenna all about her journey. But, in all honesty, they seem most concerned with how - and further, why - Jenna would ever be brave or foolish enough to pair with a howler while on a wild goose/dog/plot chase.

Jenna tiredly begins to explain what happened, why the goose and bears were there, etc. when a ruckus can be heard outside. The dogs all look up, but nobody gets up. Not yet. A few moments pass, and then the door, which has been only halfway open up to this point, swings open in full. Standing in the doorway is Togo's team, along with an exhausted looking Steele. Togo remarks that they found the dumb jock wandering delirious through the cold. He was just lucky enough to meander past their relay station. Togo shrugs and leaves the room.

Everyone immediately starts flipping shit again, asking a new flurry of questions so loudly they drown each other out. Finally, Steele breaks the silence by asking "Where's Jenna?" Everyone goes quiet and looks over at the token girl husky. Steele pads over to the middle of the room, looking at Jenna but speaking to everyone, as he explains in a voice so sincere it's sickening that his team died in the cold. Balto did in fact find him, the last dog alive, but all he cared about was taking the anti-toxin away. Balto never meant well, Steele asserts, his chest heaving with every passionate word. All he wanted to do was get back at the town for turning its back on him! Everyone gasps except Jenna and a stoic figure sitting in the corner of the room.

Steele says that Balto took the anti-toxin and, in a desperate effort to get revenge on Nome for never accepting his boorish, violent ways, threw it and himself over the edge of a cliff. The medicine, and presumably every bone in the wolfdog's body, shattered on impact. Why, Steele even tried heroically to stop Balto from this suicide mission by grabbing him by Jenna's bandanna, but... He punctuates his speech by handing Jenna the remains of her neckerchief. She gapes at it.

Steele says that this has been a tragedy for certain, but all the dogs must band together and be strong. Heck, he even generously offers to be a shoulder for Jenna to cry on in her time of need. Such a noble guy, that Steele. Except Jenna has a finely tuned 6th sense she uses solely to detect bullshit, and it's going crazy right now. She tells Steele to his face that she knows he's lying. Balto isn't violent. In fact, the primary reason he left to find the team was to save the children. To save Rosie.

The dogs in the crowd begin to murmur among themselves, but Steele casually states that it's such a shame the wolfdog managed to manipulate Jenna so efficiently that she honestly never saw him going feral, never considered his more selfish motives. Steele reminds the room of dogs that Balto attacked him several times before the relay teams were dispatched. Everyone seems a bit swayed by the reminder.

Everyone's trains of thoughts are prevented from actually leaving the station by the dog in the corner clearing his throat. Surprise surprise, the mysterious guy in the shadows was Wild Joe, resident lurker. Steele almost looks intimidated as the dog pads over to him. Joe basically goes off on Steele, detailing how it's hard to believe a dog who has proven himself violent for the sake of winning, is mysteriously the only dog out of about 15 to survive, and thinks himself a hero despite failing to bring back even one ounce of medicine. Everyone is silent as Joe and Steele glare daggers at each other.

Steele huffs at Joe and leaves the room, stating that he won't be insulted this way after having had such a traumatic experience. The dogs watch Steele go, then look at Joe and Jenna, then awkwardly begin to file out. There's nothing else of importance to be said, and damn has it gotten awkward in here.

When the two are alone, Jenna quietly thanks Joe for believing her. Joe snorts and states that he knows what Steele is like and he knows when he's lying. Then Joe tells Jenna plainly that he doesn't have much hope of the anti-toxin arriving, and that even if it did it's too late for his fallen boy. Taken aback at the realization, Jenna expresses sympathy for Joe, but encourages him to keep his chin up. Balto is a dependable dog who won't let the town down, because despite everything he's faced, he understands how important this is. Joe smiles for probably the first time in 50 years, then asks Jenna where the goose and bears she mentioned went.

That night, the electric cross on the church steeple turns off. Rosie's mother notices this from the hospital window, and her husband hopelessly wraps her in a hug. Rosie's condition continues to worsen.

While this is happening, Jenna abandons her post under the hospital window and leads Wild Joe to Balto's boat. Some of the dogs at the cannery ogle Jenna, but Joe sets them straight with a well directed glare and a scolding about the male gaze. Boris and the bear cubs are understandably shaken when they are met with a sentient hunk of muscle, but Jenna assures them that Joe is a friend. Joe makes himself comfortable in Balto's home and asks the goose if he can wait for Balto to come back with him. The two cubs remain anxious around the old dog, who playfully teases them by asking if they think he's gonna turn them into mukluks.

As all this is going on, miles away at the previously mentioned snowy abyss, the snow in the depths of the gorge begins to shift. In a few labored, measured movements, Balto manages to pull himself from the snowbank. He collapses exhausted back into the snow, realizing how dire the situation has truly become. God only knows where the medicine has fallen, let alone whether or not it's shattered. "Kids... Rosie... I'm sorry," is all he can manage to mouth as he begins to weep.

Soundlessly, a large mass moves across the snowy terrain towards him. The world is a void of white, and the figure is too, but when he looks up, Balto can just make out the dark features of a canine face. A majestic white wolf, large enough to dwarf any dog, is gazing down at him with vibrant amber eyes. The wolf howls, then pauses as if waiting for Balto to respond. He doesn't, instead shrinking away in embarrassment. The wolf gives him a strange look, then gazes past him for a moment, then finally withdraws, quickly disappearing from view.

Balto allows his eyes to wander. Suddenly, those wandering eyes widen. The medicine. It's sitting unharmed no more then 10 feet away. And after offering the cliffside its own glance, he believes it might be possible to get it back up.

Balto rises slowly but surely to his feet. He eyes the tracks the white wolf left behind as it departed. He reaches out a paw to touch one, and quickly realizes that his paw fits inside it perfectly. His shame melts away. He raises his head up high, nose aimed at the moon, and lets loose a howl.

As if by magic, the white wolf reappears in the fog. Balto continues to howl, feeling as if it's the most natural thing he's ever done. The wolf rejoins him, and it fills the air with its own howls. The blizzard rages on around the two, but for just a moment it feels as if the world around them shimmers with a newfound clarity.

Up on top of the cliff, the sled team is huddling close together. Their spirits all seem to have been broken by what they presumed was Balto's death and the lose of the medicine. The dogs straighten up, however, upon hearing... the howling of wolves? Everyone huddles in closer together, suddenly terrified. A second later, though, they realize the howling has stopped, effectively being replaced with the sound of shuffling snow. Wait, huh? Everyone peers over the cliffside.

It's Balto, very much not dead, and very much pulling the unharmed crate of anti-toxin behind him. The dogs yap with joy, cheering Balto on as he mounts the cliff. The moment he's within reach, several dogs lift him and the crate the rest of the way up. Balto collapses in the snow, absolutely pooped. He lies there for just a moment, beaming coyly as the dogs praise him for his feat. Is this what it's like to be respected? When Balto can stand again, the dogs go through the motions once more: musher in sled, lantern on crate, crate secured, Balto up front. And nothing can stop them now.

Well, they figure as much, anyway. But they're proven wrong a short while later. The team enters a deep valley, surrounded on all sides like a great white bowl made of high pale mountains. The air is eerily still. And then, breaking the silence, someone sneezes. The sound reverberates around the cereal bowl that is the mountain range. A moment later, a cascade of snowfall begins barreling down the steepest mountain. An avalanche! The team runs for cover in the nearest cave.

As the team enters the cave, the sled thumps loudly against the ground. The dogs hazard a look up as the tinkling sound of ice on ice becomes apparent. To their horror, they see a barrage of icicles begin to plummet down towards them. One severs the handles at the back of the sled, only inches away from the musher's head. Another slams down just beside the medicine crate, causing everyone to promptly flip shit. The team rockets forward as quickly as they can, just managing to clear the cave as the worst of the icicles shatters behind them. Okay, NOW it's gotta be over, right?

Dawn is just about to break. The cannery dogs are all struggling to rest in the cold weather. One of them, a shabby, long nosed creature, gently lifts an ear in his sleep. Some sort of sound is reverbing in the distance, so far away that it can't reach the true populace of Nome. But it's there, and it rouses him awake. Other dogs begin to take notice as well. On Balto's boat, the twin cubs follow Boris to the railing as they listen. The sound starts as a very low bellow, but soon it becomes clear...

Someone is howling. It's a foghorn! It's a train! No, it's... Balto!

Balto lets out another very primitive howl as he and the team advance towards the cannery. Everyone is overcome with joy. They're so close! The cannery dogs begin running to meet the team, eyes bulging in surprise. They didn't expect this because they really only skimmed the story up to this point. The sled team keeps pace, everyone acknowledging the cannery dogs with excited yips, as they continue towards town. Boris and the cubs climb out of the boat to greet Balto.

But the team is brought to a halt as a dog steps directly in front of the sled, unmoving. Everyone rams into one another, but at least the medicine isn't being flung off a cliff this time. The dog who stopped them is, of course, Steele. His bi-colored eyes shimmer menacingly as the sled's lantern's light reflects off of them. He says he's amazed that the dogs made it home, sarcastically giving Balto in particular a "Bravo". Very cute, very heroic.

But what does Balto expect to happen? Does he think all the townspeople are just going to accept that some guy they've always hated brought the medicine back? Balto has no idea what he's gotten himself into. His only choice, obviously, is to slip out of the harness and allow Steele to lead the team back into Nome. Now.

Wild Joe leaps out of Balto's ship, finally coming to see what all the hubbub was about. He pushes his way through the crowd of stunned cannery dogs and glares daggers at Steele, telling him that he never deserved to be the lead dog and now he's still so greedy for glory that he's holding up the cure for a child killing illness. Steele snarls at Joe, clearly not caring about his opinion. Then the other dogs in the crowd begin jeering "Yeah!" and "You tell him!" and various other cliches meant to show solidarity.

But the real surprise comes when the only dog who actually does slip out of his harness is Star. "Steele doesn't deserve credit for this!" Star spits at his big brother. "In fact, he doesn't even deserve the golden collar he's wearing! All he's ever done is boss everyone around. He's bossed me around since we were pups." Everyone's eyes drift towards Steele's neck. The golden collar and all the medals adorning it shimmer dimly. "You're the hero here, Balto," Star continues. "You deserve that collar. And you're gonna wear it."

He steps towards a stunned Steele, looking as frightened but unflappable as a weeaboo asking out a girl he likes, and lunges at Steele's throat. He yanks the collar off in one swift tug, stepping back and letting it fall to the ground at Balto's feet.

Everyone looks equally amazed at the sight of Star standing up to the guy who's shat on him his whole life. Balto looks at the collar before him, then at Star, then at Steele. "Thank you," he says awkwardly, "but he can keep it. It obviously means more to him then the kids do."

Now Steele is Peak Tilted. The team moves forward again, bypassing Steele and stepping on his collar as they do. Steele stands, chest heaving, for a moment's time before he loudly snaps "no" and drives himself at the team. He shoves cannery dogs out of the way left and right as he plummets towards Balto. Balto notices and comes to a stop beside a coal shoot. The team warns him to LOOK OUT BRUH and Steele flies at him, mouth agape and ready to bite. Just as Steele is about to land on Balto, Balto rolls over, sending Steele tripping over him in the process.

The coal shoot's hatch opens as Steele lands against the lever behind it. Steele tries to claw his way up out of the slowly opening hatch as the other dogs watch horrified. Balto tries to reach out to him, but it's too late. A load of coal drops down from another hatch above the ground. Hundreds of hunks from hell hit the hedonistic Steele as his grip slips. He screams as he falls down the shaft below, a 2 ton torrent of coal following right behind him. Eventually all that can be heard is the sound of stray chunks of coal bouncing around in the shaft. The sound fades as both hatches close. Steele is gone.

Wild Joe walks over, gazes at the closed hatch, and gives a low grunt. He laments on how it couldn't have happened to a nicer dog, then turns to Balto. He says that Balto can't stand around all day when he's got medicine to deliver. But first there's something he needs to do. Star was right, Balto does deserve a collar. And to make sure he has one, Wild Joe slips his own golden collar off his neck, effectively stripping naked in public, and puts it on Balto. Balto is awed. Boris comes up behind him and wraps a wing around him, complimenting him on his new look. Joe tells everyone to hurry into town, and so they do. Balto lets up a torrent of howls once more.

The team FINALLY enters town, and already a whole slew of townsfolk have gathered to see what's going on. They can't contain their relief and their joy upon seeing the medicine has honest to God arrived. Balto brings the team to a stop right in front of the hospital, and immediately the doctor and several other people pry open the crate. A wave of people descend upon the dogs of the team, petting and hugging them. Balto is no exception to this, as people he never expected to respect him begin rubbing his ears and stroking his back.

One of those people is Rosie's father. He hesitates for a second before stroking Balto's head, then leans down and wraps his arms around the dog's neck. Balto withdraws for a moment, but then allows himself to be held. When he's satisfied with the amount of wolfdog hugging he's done, the man coaxes Balto into the hospital, where the staff is already going about administering the anti-toxin to the children.

Balto is brought in to meet Rosie. It's been some time since he's seen her, and she's just been given her injection of the medicine. She's still too weak to lift her head, but she smiles at him all the same. She reaches out her hand to stroke his muzzle, and he licks her. "Balto," she cooes half asleep, "I'd've been lost without you."

She gives a sigh and begins to snore gently, and Balto considers this an appropriate time to head outski. As he turns to leave, he sees Jenna in the doorway, her face scrunched tight in a misty-eyed grin.

The two dogs throw themselves into each other, romping in the doorway. Jenna allows herself to weep, and even Balto's eyes get a little wet. Part of her had truly believed she'd never see her closest friend again. As the two pause and settle back down, she goes to git it and plants a kiss (or the dog equivalent of one I guess) on his nose. He returns the gesture and the two lean into one another. They sit in an embrace as the town continues its celebrating.

A year has passed. Balto, Joe's golden collar still adorning his neck, runs across the cannery harbor to the boat he used to live in. Boris can be seen teaching Luk how to sweep the deck with a poorly held together broom. Muk watches in amusement. Balto calls to Boris that it's time and that he and the kids are invited if they'd like to come along. Boris, overjoyed, leaps onto Muk's back and tells the cubs to pretend they're Paul Revere and hurry up. Everyone who lives in the cannery greets Balto as he rushes by.

Balto passes Dixie on the street as everyone hurries along. Dixie's owner is offput by the presence of the polar bear cubs hi hello what the hell, but Dixie nonchalantly asks Balto what all the fuss is about. Balto explains that it's time, and Dixie congratulates him. He continues his trek, and it goes very much like it did when he was competing in the trial race before the Great Race of Mercy took place.

Finally, Balto reaches the hospital's boiler room. Inside huddle a small crowd: Rosie, her parents, Wild Joe (who is looking a little green), Doc, the actual doc, and, of course, Jenna. Jenna's the center of attention, and she's clearly exhausted. But she's not so exhausted that she can't look up at Balto with a smile on her face. Wild Joe grabs the blanket that she's tucked into and pulls it off of her as Balto and his friends gaze over her.

A litter of 6 puppies whimper out complaints as they reorganize themselves against their mother's warm belly. They're sickeningly precious, squeaking and huddling together. Most of the little ones are varying shades of red like their mother, but the smallest newborn looks remarkably like her father. She lifts her tiny, trembling head and lets out quite possibly the smallest howl any living thing has ever uttered. Everyone chuckles, and Balto leans his head into Jenna's cheek. Their faces are awash with pride.

So there you have it, Balto But Not Balto But Still Balto. Happy 24th year of existing, you trashfire of a movie you. I genuinely love this movie more then I should, and this has been fun to work on. Later this month I'll dump some more Balto stuff here, but it's just about time for me to start a new project for this blog. Hope yous guys enjoyed the wolfdoggy content. Cheers.

#balto #balto words #balto draws #amblimation #rewrite #fanfic

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penninstitute · 5 years ago

Audio

Statement of Miette Capello, regarding… the ocean. Original statement given April 21st, 2020. Statement taken live from subject.

Transcript under cut.

[Click.]

ARCHIVIST

Alright. Let's try this again.

MIETTE

Uh, why exactly are we using your personal laptop for this?

ARCHIVIST

Sometimes the Institute's computers don't… record properly. Things get corrupted easily. This is just more reliable.

MIETTE

Huh. Alright. Should I start over, or…?

ARCHIVIST

Yeah, that'd probably be best. Here, let me--

Statement of Miette Capello, regarding…

MIETTE

Um. The ocean.

ARCHIVIST

Statement given April 21st, 2020. Statement taken live from subject.

Statement begins.

MIETTE

Yeah. Okay. So, I'm from Point Judith, Narragansett, and we're like, right on the shore. It's not hard to get to the ocean from where I live, and I go all the time. It's nice to walk along the beach in the wintertime, and I--again, I do it all the time.

I guess I just really like the sound of the waves, and the smell of the ocean is really nice, too. Um. I just really like the ocean, I guess. It's usually pretty peaceful.

It was, uh, January when it happened, though. I haven't been back since.

I'd been walking on… January 5th, I think, after some argument with my dad, and I was trying to let off some steam. Walk it off, get all the anger out where he wouldn't yell at me for it.

I spent at least an hour out there on the beach, and eventually I figured, well, this wasn't really doing anything, and it was almost dinner time anyways, so I decided to head home, and then…

There… the beach was. Gone? Not gone, I guess, just, um, it was different.

I was just standing on this one little sandbar in the center of a bunch of ice. I don't know how it happened, it--one second I was listening to the waves, and the next I was freezing and standing in the middle of what looked like the… I dunno, Arctic Ocean? I don't think any ocean is actually… frozen like that.

It was more confusing than scary in those first few moments, but uh, a few seconds later I realized I couldn't see any actual land. It was just… ice, for as far as I could see.

I decided to be brave! I didn't want to just… sit and freeze. I had a good jacket for winter in Rhode Island, but not winter in… wherever I was.

The ice seemed thick enough to walk on. I wouldn't have gone out onto it if it wasn't. But, um, it was! At least, for the most part.

It was slow-going at first, because I didn't want to slip and fall, because I didn't… I didn't really trust the ice? It was sturdy enough to walk on, but I had a feeling that if I slipped and fell, I'd go right through it. So I was just very, very careful.

I don't know how long I was walking for. I know I was out there for a few days, but I didn't get tired, or hungry, or thirsty. I just kept walking.

Um, after a while I started to hear this… creaking noise. And scratching. It wasn't, like, the ice starting to break, but it was coming from underneath it. And, and then I noticed the shadow. Under the ice.

It was long, and thin, like a snake, almost, except I could see limbs sticking out. It was blurry and dark underneath the ice, so I couldn't figure out what it was, exactly, but--but there was something down there. And one of the limbs moved and I heard the scratching noise again, and I realized it--the thing was scratching at the ice, and I think it was trying to get through.

I backed away from it, slowly at first, but then I realized it was following me, and--and I don't know why I did it, but I stomped as hard as I could on the ice, and it cracked.

The… thing pretty much pounced on that crack. The scratching got louder, and then there was more cracking, and suddenly the ice was opening up and, um…

I screamed. I'll admit it.

These long, black, spindly fingers began to claw their way through the crack, and, um, my first reaction was to stomp on them. I mean, what else would I do? Run? I'd just fall on my ass and it would get me quickly. I, I figured I'd go out with a fight, at least.

So I stomped on the hand hard when it emerged, and the thing made this awful howling noise.

It was kind of terrifying to hear after so much silence. And also because of what the sound belonged to, obviously. The ice began to crack faster, and it looked like it was trying to just… crash right through it. The--the ice around me was coming apart, and there was this big heavy chunk of it floating in the water that looked a manageable size, so I grabbed it.

The thing came out headfirst, and it was--it looked… human-ish. It was all black, and I mean pitch black, like the color of the water, and it had these horrible white eyes. It was covered in, in fins? I think? It all kind of blended together in the moment.

And it, when it opened its mouth to screech again, there were rows and rows of teeth. All long and pointed and pristine.

I threw that chunk of ice as hard as I could and, um, hit it right in the face. It was enough to make it fall over backwards, it looked… fragile, actually. The limbs were too thin, you could see what looked like ribs, maybe, through the skin of its torso. It screamed again. I grabbed another chunk of ice and threw it at it again when the monster tried to get up.

The neck snapped on impact. It still got up, head hanging at an awkward, horrible angle, and it screamed another time, it--it was a worse sound, now that I had, um, broken its neck.

I threw another chunk of ice, then ran. I didn't make sure I hit it this time, I just threw it in the hopes it would be distracting enough and took off. It was--running on ice isn't easy. I almost slipped right away, but uh, I didn't! I could hear it howling behind me, but it wasn't as close as before, and when I glanced back I saw it begin to retreat back into the water.

I had to sit down after that. I didn't see the shadow come towards me under the ice, so I--I figured I would be safe for a little while, at least.

I laid down and stared up at the sky--it was just gray, no clouds in sight--and closed my eyes for a minute.

And then I heard waves, and my back wasn't against freezing ice, and I opened my eyes and was back on the beach back home.

I'd been gone for three days. Still wasn't dehydrated, or tired, or hungry. I was fine, save for some scraped knees and hands after handling the ice. No frostbite, somehow, but my hands were freezing, along with my ears and nose. Health-wise, I was fine.

My dad was… mad, that I'd been gone for so long, thought I'd run away, or something. My mom was more relieved to see me, I think. Um. I think that's it.

ARCHIVIST

… Statement ends. And you said the creature got back up even after you'd… broken its neck?

MIETTE

Uh, yeah. That's probably not the weirdest thing about the experience, though.

ARCHIVIST

I suppose not.

Well, we'll look into it for you, and if we find anything concrete, we'll be sure to let you know.

MIETTE

Thanks. For listening, too, I guess.

ARCHIVIST

Oh! Of course. It's uh, what we're here for.

End recording.

[Click.]

---

The Archivist: @cacowhistle

Miette Capello: @icedhotcocoa

#statement #0200421 #tma #the magnus archives

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pookapics · 5 years ago

Text

Way down to Hadestown - MafiaBoss!Steve Rogers x Reader

The 1930's has its own challenges for a young singer like (YN) but when she finds her lover with another girl, she has no choice but to hustle to get the money to get the hell out of dodge. But what happens when a mysterious blue eyed strangers enters the club she sings at and gives her a ticket out of this place. Will she take the offer, especially after she realises that the offer is coming from Steve Rogers, Leader of the Avengers Mob and the 'King of New York'? She's desperate and heavily drawn into Steve's charms but will she go? And is there a catch in this chance for freedom?

Warnings : Mafia!SteveRogers, Mobsters, Heartbreak, Cheating, Eventual romance, Sexual innuendo, Age-Gap (Reader is 21 and Steve is 30 so 9 year difference), Hints of violence

Masterlist - https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/189126314108/way-down-to-hadestown-masterlist-mobbosssteve

Next Chapter - https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/189109817228/way-down-to-hadestown-mobbosssteve-rogers-x

Chapter 1 : Hey Little Songbird

New York, 1933 - Wintertime

Your POV

Smoke wafted in your face as you entered the club you worked at, your tattered brown coat wrapped around you tightly as your shoes stuck to the sticky floors of the club where drinks had been dropped numerous times, stains upon the floor. Times were tough, simply not enough money for anything.

Living off scraps from the club like a stray dog.

Empty promises raised their nasty heads as you entered the dressing-room round the back. The empty promises that once escaped your high-school sweetheart’s lips. Promises of a better home, better food and the wedding you always dreamed of. But he was a singer, singers like him liked to butter up a girl until they got bored or famous.

Both happened to you and your lover.

The sweet harmonies the two of you once sang together long forgotten . What remains now is a cold bed, an empty stomach and having to witness your boyfriend sleeping with some other girl.

The sweet puppy love was gone, it was now tarnished and unable to return to what it once was. Tears began to form in the corner of your eyes as you saw Wanda, your long-term friend and colleague. You pushed them back as you saw her open her arms for you, last night when you found out about your boyfriend and his little thing on the side you’d called Wanda from a payphone near the affluent bar your ex worked at, Wanda was working at the time but rushed to the phone when she heard the bouncer calling her over about how you were crying and needing Wanda. You knew that the whole club knew what happened but you in your tearful state the night before could not stop yourself from crumbling down as soon as the Bouncer answered the phone. Wanda’s voices pulled you back from reflecting on what happened just the night before

“That scumbag will get what’s coming to him! I promise!” her accent thickened as her rage increased, you giggled weakly and smiled slightly “Thanks Wan, I’m just going to work my ass off for those tips and save to get my own place.” You couldn’t stay at your shared apartment anymore, too many memories that would make you crumble.

He cheated on you, there is truly no going back from that betrayal. He pushed you away for his fame and career and slept with another girl. You couldn’t stay with a man who broke your heart in two ways. He was one of those faux-rich kind of men, ass-licking the big dogs in the most luxurious spots in town, enjoying the high-life. Meanwhile, you’re stuck singing in a sleazy club for a few dollars here and there.

He abandoned you, and you wanted out.

Reaching for the clothes rack in the dressing-room,you picked up a long white dress which trickled to the floor elegantly. The fabric was silky and ornate in its intricate design details, this dress was a hang-me-down from the previous girl who worked here before you, a girl called Birdie if you remembered correctly. Going behind the changing-screen, you slid the dress on, it accentuated your figure in all the right places. With a glance to the mirror, you smiled, the dress made you look heavenly in aura, graceful like a swan in flight. Over at the vanity, you picked up a handful of bobby-pins to slide into your hair, smoothing down the frizz and stray hairs which you tamed with a waft of your finger. The final touch was the lipstick, a splatter of red tinged your lips, it was a deep red which complimented your skin tone divinely, the one luxury you bought for yourself in this troubling time of economics.

You were ready to start your set of songs, before that you decided to peek through the red curtains of the stage to see if any patrons were sat at the booths, you usually took requests from them for an extra dollar or two, made sure you came home with a heftier amount of cash than if you didn’t. It was early in the day for the club so it was quite barren, bar the boss, Big Louis and his gaggle of goons who smoked close to the bar as Pietro, Wanda’s twin mixed drinks quicker than it took to neck a shot.

But that’s when you noticed in the corner of your eye that one booth was taken, one booth which held one man on his own. A man you’d never seen before round the club. He sat on his lonesome with a glass of whiskey in hand, staring deeply into it. You had to admit that this man was beyond attractive, he oozed a sense of power and control and as if the whole bar and everyone in it was at his command, that power made you subconsciously bite the corner of your lip out of nerves and out of another emotion you couldn’t pin-point exactly. His suit was perfectly pinched and altered to fit the man’s form which was built like a god, like one of those Greek god statues you’d seen in a Museum of history once.

You pulled back slowly from the curtains, cheeks tinted a faint shade of pink which you’d just put down to the rouge you applied to your cheeks. Mentally, you prepared to head out there just when Ricky, one of Big Louis’ goons turned the corner and squawked “Oi! The Boss wants ya!” you turned to face him “But I’m about to start my se-” you were rudely interrupted by him “The Boss wants you now!” he snapped and insisted, you sighed and walked round back to get to the bar, not wanting to face the stranger in that lone booth just yet.

“You needed me, Sir?” you spoke shyly, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress, watching as Big Louis turned around, cigar in one hand and a drink in the other “Yeah Toots, I was hopin’ you could entertain our ‘guest’ up front?” he asked which made you frown “Just him?” you could see Big Louis visibly gulp as he glanced to the stranger’s booth “Yes. Just him. Do whatever he asks. I’ll pay you double hey triple! IF you do this for me. A small favour really!” There was a flash of desperation in his eyes, you’d never seen Big Louis so shaken before, he was the big boss of this place and took no funny business from anyone. Yet this new patron had him physically shaken and desperate? Briefly, you nodded in agreement, you needed that cash and it would get you the hell out of dodge.

Turning on your heels, you headed straight for the booth which is where the ‘guest’ was seated at. Glancing to the doors for a small moment, you saw the bouncers guarding the door alongside four new men dressed in full suits, not letting anyone enter or exit. As you approached, you felt the stranger’s eyes on you, they were a striking shade of blue you noticed as you got closer to the booth. His eyes never left you, you’d never felt so anxious or intrigued by a man before. The blue-eyed stranger took a swig of what seemed to be whisky, letting it swirl in the glass slightly, his eyes never left you as he cleared his throat to speak “Hey little songbird~” you froze, his voice was as alluring as his eyes, it had a hint of danger interlaced in its melodic tone but that only further drew you in.

He spoke up again “Gimme a song? I’m a busy man and I can’t stay long.” He cracked his knuckles “I’ve got clients to call, I got order to fill… I got walls to build.” he smoothed out his jacket for a moment and reached his hand out in your direction as if motioning for you to sing for him. And in that moment, your mouth went very dry.

‘I got riots to quell

And they're giving me hell back in Hades...’

How could one man have such power and control over you, it was baffling. From what he’d said, you knew he was a man of power. That was already evident when you first laid eyes upon him and from just seeing his mannerisms and the perfectly pinched and altered designer suit. But you couldn’t tell or know just how powerful he was, you drew a blank when you tried to comprehend that.

Suddenly, you realised you’d been silent and had let your mind drift astray and didn’t return to the current conversation till he spoke again “Little Songbird, Cat got your tongue?~” he teased which flustered you, leading to your fingers playing with the material of your dress as he began to chuckle “Always a pity for one so pretty and young~” he tapped his fingers against his glass, the rings he wore clinked against the glass gently.

‘When poverty comes to clip your wings

And knock the wind right out of your lungs

Hey, nobody sings on empty’

You’d recently turned 21, in this man’s eyes that meant you were young still, you could tell he was older but not drastic. You could tell he’d been aged by the world because of his eyes, they withheld pain and sorrow which could only be fully seen in the eyes of those who’d experienced the horrors of the current real-world of New York that everyone was trying to survive in. If you had to guess, he seemed to be at least thirty, definitely aged and in your eyes aged like a fine wine. He’d seen the world in ways you hadn’t and that further drew you in a led you to open your mouth and begin to sing for him “Strange is the call of this strange man, I want to fly down and feed at his hand, I want a nice soft place to land, I want to lie down forever…” You could feel his gaze upon your face, eyes were softly closed as you sang, you tried to keep yourself from shaking.

The man softly clapped, your eyes opened to see his face, his golden hair in the light reflected and made it resemble a halo or a crown as they were shrouded in dim lights, he reflected like a beacon. His eyes locked on yours for a moment before the drifted gently to your figure “Hey little songbird, you got something fine~ You'd shine like a diamond down in the mine~” He gestured to you with his hand before reaching into his jacket pocket with his other hand, retrieving a small white card and placing it on the table as he spoke up “And the choice is yours if you're willing to choose… Seeing as you've got nothing to lose~” he chuckled and reached to touch your chin with his thumb and forefinger, the feeling of the cold rings that were upon his fingers on your face made you shiver as he continued to speak as he held your chin “...And I could use a canary~” His voice resonated and grumbled which twinged something inside of you, something raw and unrefined.

Out of pure nerves and feeling the eyes of Big Louis on the back of your head you continued to sing, pulling away from his grasp on your chin “Suddenly nothing is as it was… Where are you now, Oscar? Wasn't it always the two of us? Weren't we birds of a feather…” the words which left your lips, the man’s expression changed for a moment, as if analysing your words in his head, before long he pat the seat beside him, motioning for you to take a seat beside him “Little songbird, let me guess he's some kind of poet and he's penniless?” He questioned as you sat beside him, you shyly nodded and stared down at the floor, how did he know that? It was as if he’d read your mind.

‘Give him your hand, he'll give you his hand-to-mouth

He'll write you a poem when the power's out’

The blue-eyed stranger was sat close to you as he kept speaking to you, as if reassuring you, the man which terrified Big Louis, was being compassionate to you? You felt his breath upon your shoulder, you shivered as he spoke again “Hey, why not fly south for the winter?” he motioned for the card which lay face down on the booth’s table in front of the two of you with his finger. You glanced to the table but your eyes fell upon a shape in his pocket, the shape of a gun on his thigh, you played with your hair out of nerves. He had a weapon and if he was as powerful as you’d thought, he had no qualms about firing that weapon in here…

He saw your gaze upon the shape in his pocket, and as sensing your nerves he smoothed his pant leg as if trying to brush it off.

The atmosphere in the club could be cut with a knife.

You were intrigued and scared of the man who was sat so close to you. But you were more intrigued and curious of the stranger, probably foolish of you but it was true. Feeling his hand upon your clothed back, it was a gentle touch as the other hand slowly reached to touch your chin, giving you enough time to pull away from him if you wanted, he waited to see if you pulled away from him. He sighed as he spoke “Little Songbird, what’s your name?” he asked, holding your chin gently as he awaited an answer, eyes locked on yours, your whole body tingling from the interaction, his voice soft and tender which danced in your ears, he felt strangely safe. Though he was dangerous, clearly, you still felt safe around him as if he could protect you.

“(YN) (LN).” You introduced yourself to the stranger, he nodded and hummed, it made a grumbling growl sound in his chest as he spoke once more to you “(YN), look all around you...See how the vipers and vultures surround you.” He motioned to those at the bar who stared at you intently, watching like a predator in the grass, you’d never been that observant to notice the type of looks they would give you. Only Big Louis seemed disinterested, knowing that in this moment you were protected by his ‘guest’. You felt a chill run up your back, how had you not noticed you were like prey to them. Memories of work-shifts when there would be sneers and glares and touches which lasted too long for your comfort, the smell of cigarettes lingered on your dresses on nights like those. How could you have been so oblivious. The only people you could maybe trust here was Wanda, Pietro and maybe this new stranger? Something was forming, was it trust or something else?

“They'll take you down, they'll pick you clean~ If you stick around such a desperate scene.” The stranger spoke, his voice in your ear which sent shiver down to your heart and made your body quiver, could you trust him? You looked at him, your lips slightly parted as he stared down at you.

Could you trust a wolf among a pride of hungry lions?

He whispered into your ear “See people get mean when the chips are down…” He growled which made you bite your lipstick stained lips. You stared up at him, you felt his breath upon your skin, eyes wide as he picked up the card that he’d placed on the booth’s table and handed it to you

‘SONGBIRD VERSUS RATTLESNAKE’

“What is it?” you asked, keeping your hand back until he answered you, the card still turned so you couldn’t see what was on the other side, your eyes glanced up to his and he held the card out to you, holding it between his forefinger and thumb “Your ticket.” He flipped it around to show his name on the other-side and a number. Your eyes widened as your eyes fell upon the name on the card

‘Steve Rogers’

The notorious leader of the Avengers Mob, he’d been involved with mob activity in the city since he was in his teens. From the Howling Commandos, to Shield and now the Avengers. He’d risen into power over the years. He was feared and loved by the city, depended on who you were and who’s territory you were living inside of. Your eyes fluttered up to Steve Rogers, who’s eyes were on you. You’d gained the interested of a notorious Mob Boss.

The interest of the ‘King of New York’...

And here he was. Giving you a ticket to his secret paradise. It was only spoken about in rumours about the secret underground run by Steve Rogers and the Avengers Mob. Anyone who wasn’t a part of the family wasn’t allowed in or out, that’s why it was only myth and rumour. No-one in the Avengers Mob was brave enough to rat out the location as they knew it would mean there would be hell to pay if they ever did.

Steve Rogers didn’t know you, why would he let you in? You reached for the ticket and stared at it, your finger brushed against Steve’s, you grasped the ticket as Steve’s hand picked your other hand up and brought it to his lips, laying a kiss upon your knuckles “The choice is yours. Just know this… I desire to learn more about you, to know you. To learn your quirks.” he stopped speaking for a moment and stared at you “I want to know your dreams and goals.” his voice soft and sounded like poetry, like the promises your ex used to make. You stopped that train of thought as he spoke again

“I could give you anything you desire, anything you ask of you could receive. Treated like the little goddess that you are turning into~ But… That choice is up to you.” He pulled back from you and rose to his feet, leaving you sat there in the booth, his finished whisky glass upon the table. You were frozen to the spot where you sat, clutching the ticket in hand. Steve bowed his head slightly “Thank you for the song, Little Songbird...” he winked and wandered over to Big Louis who simply shook his hand and spoke briefly. The voices of everyone was muffled, it was most likely the shock of all of this. He was giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, to get out of your old apartment where memories of your ex lingered and to be whisked off to what Steve made out to be paradise. You pondered what could be the catch, there was no such thing as true paradise on earth, there would always be darkness.

(YN) was a hungry young girl and Steve Rogers gave her a choice to make...

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #x reader #mafia!steverogers #mobboss!steverogers x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #alternate universe #eventual smut #captain america x female reader #bucky x reader platonic #mafia au #hadestown inspired

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queen-of-deans-booty · 5 years ago

Text

Doing It With A Smile

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1,648

Warnings: just major fluff

Summary: Your new neighbor is finding new ways to annoy you, and the last straw breaks before you go marching over to his place to sort it out.

Beta: she wants to remain anonymous

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in!

This is the December 14th fic for my 25 days of RPF Christmas with the prompt: “Look, I get that you go all out with Christmas decorations, but I can see your flashing lights through the blinds on my bedroom window and they’ve kept me awake the past few days…”

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

This is the perfect afternoon for reading your favorite book. The clock has a nice ticking consistency, your house is pet and kid-free (not like you had them to begin with), you’re in front of the window to give you a perfect view of the snow lightly falling, and nothing could ruin this moment. Plus, you have a perfect view of your neighbor’s house across from yours.

Jensen Ackles moved in a few months ago, but you’ve never had the opportunity to go to him and introduce yourself to him. When he moved in, you were traveling for work in Europe. When you got back, he was filming in Vancouver for his television show. You’ve heard of the show, but you’ve never watched it before. You like more medical dramas and documentaries, not whatever he’s on. Only recently has he moved back in for the holidays, but you haven’t had time to go over yet. Yes, you could go over now, but you really want this time to be allocated for peace and quiet.

You just finished the fifteenth chapter when you heard loud, obnoxious music come from Jensen’s house. It sounds like a band is rehearsing, but you know he isn’t in one. You’ve never seen a van used for carrying instruments, no other bandmates, and the only person you’ve seen walk into his house is his mother. Well, she looked like his mother.

The only way you can read a book is by complete silence or with rain/thunder sounds. This is breaking your concentration. You look over at his house is disdain, but it’s not enough to make you go over to him and tell him off. First, the music he’s playing isn’t that bad, and he’s singing along to it as if he’s got a microphone or a karaoke machine. Either way, he has a beautiful voice.

You close your book and rest your head to the glass window. If he sounds this good from across the street, you wonder how he’ll sound from inside the living room. If he can sing this well, what’s he doing on a tv show? Maybe when his show is done for good, he’ll make a career out of singing. You’d definitely buy all his albums.

Jensen hasn’t done anything to annoy you for the rest of the week. Today’s Sunday, which means coffee and newsletters in the morning. If it wasn’t so cold outside, you would sit in your porch swing and read the morning newspaper. Instead, you’re by the fireplace with the unopened newspaper with a rubber band wrapped around the middle.

Taking your first sip of coffee, you take off the rubber band and open it to the coupon section. That’s the first place you love to look to see what the deals of the week are, and then mentally plan your shopping list based on the deals. Flipping through the pages until you get to the right one, you gasp at the sections that have been cut out. Someone stole your newspaper and cut out some of the coupons. To add to it, they left a note of the ones they took, ending with their initials.

Jensen did this. You know it based on the scrambled JA written at the bottom of it. You know it’s him because the day you came back, he left some flowers on your price with a thank you note for welcoming him to the neighborhood. Both notes have the exact same writing. Oh, that little menace…

You could match right over to his place and demand the coupons be given back, but they are the ones that you have no business buying. He took some clothes offers, some coupons for meat, dairy products, and other things you don’t eat. You’re a vegetarian that doesn’t like animal products. He must not know that about you since he took those coupons.

You didn’t mind that he did that, but you would love it if he came over and asked like a normal person. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll steal his coupons and leave him a note to see how he likes it. You just shake your head and begin cutting out the ones you really wanted, and soon, Jensen was out of your head.

Last night killed your ass. Your work demanded you stay in the office until two am to get works done that could have waited until morning. You’re in the running for a big promotion, so you stocked it up to get you on their good side. It was tough, but you made it home and fell asleep easily.

Jensen hasn’t stolen any more coupons when he realized his little “prank” didn’t work. He might just be looking for a rise from you, but you’re not going to give it to him. It’s going to take a lot more than missing coupons and loud music for you to get mad.

You have to be at work at eight, so you have your alarm set for six-thirty. It gives you enough time to eat breakfast, watch some news, get dressed, and head out with just enough time to set aside for the morning traffic. Your room is dark, and the silence is giving you everything you need for a peaceful slumber.

You’re in a deep sleep when you hear the rumble of a lawnmower. It’s coming from across the street, and it pulls you right out of your dream. Your eyes open tiredly, and you look at the clock to see it reads 5:00 am. Who the hell us up at five am to mow their lawn? You get out of bed and creep over to your window and power outside. The sun is still down since it’s wintertime, but you can clearly see Jensen morning his lawn as if it’s normal to do so.

The lawnmower he bought is noisy, tacky, and it keeps dying every few seconds. It’s as if he’s never used it before until this morning. Why is he always bothering you? Sure, the music and the coupons were harmless, but it’s still annoying to be disturbed. If he does anything to annoy you, even with the smallest thing, then you’re going to go over to his house and sort it out like he should have done in the beginning. You would go over now, but you’re too tired to put on something and deal with his mess. Instead, you pull the curtains shut and head downstairs for some coffee.

The next few days have been quiet over at Jensen’s place, but you know he’s brewing something. He got out his Christmas lights and put them up. They are flashy, bright, and you love to look at them after the sun has gone down. You don’t like it when they are flashing in your room when you’re trying to sleep. It’s been happening the mar free days, and you’re getting really sick of it. You love looking at lights, but this is Jensen. Why he’s acting this way, you’ll never know.

It’s the middle of the night, and you just got into bed and settled down for the night. It’s Friday, which means there is no work tomorrow, but you still have a lot of personal errands to run that you’d rather knock out in the morning. You pull the covers up to your chin and close your eyes. Seconds later, blue, red, green, and yellow lights flash into your room.

You let out an annoyed scream and get out of bed. Jensen has turned on his lights, and they are flashy as ever. This is it, you have had enough of his antics. You’re putting an end to this now whether it’s midnight or the am. You grab your fluffy purple robe and throw it on before storming out of your house. Crossing the street responsibly, you pound on his door when you reach it.

“Jensen!” you shout. It takes five seconds for him to get to the door and open it. It’s like he was waiting there for you.

“Can I help you?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Yes! First, you play loud music. I didn’t mind because you actually have a nice voice. Second, you take my coupons. They aren’t ones I want, but still. If you want them, ask! Third, you mow your fucking lawn at five am when you know I came home at two. Now, it’s these lights. Look, I get that you go all out with Christmas decorations, but I can see your flashing lights through the blinds on my bedroom window, and they’ve kept me awake the past few days. Please, turn them off.”

“Okay,” he shrugs.

“What? That’s it?”

“Yeah, it took you long enough to match your cute butt over here and tell me off. I did all those things to get you over here.”

“Why?”

“So I can ask you to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Why didn’t you come up to me like a normal person?” you sigh.

“I felt a bit intimidated. My character is a lot better at things like this than I am. I’m sorry for annoying you I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“Well, I'm not going to bite. Next time, come over to me during the day.”

“Deal. Will you still have dinner with me?”

“You’re such a dork. Sure, but I’m a vegetarian. No animal products.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grins.

“Turn off these lights, and we’ll have a dinner date.”

“Done,” he says and pulls out a remote from his pocket. He turns off the lights with a smile.

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he chuckles.

Your leave guys house and return to yours. Slipping off your robe, you put it on the hanger and slide back into bed. It’s easy to fall asleep this time, but you’re doing it with a smile. You got a date with Jensen Ackles.

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lettersfromleslie · 4 years ago

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HUNKERED DOWN / RONIED OUT / BALSAM, BEER & THE ROOFTOPS OF OLD AMSTERDAM

Hello! Writing you from the old nest, my erstwhile hometown of Amsterdam. Ariel and I have been hiding out at my dad’s the past ten days like a pair of runaways. What a life, eh? One minute you’re sitting pretty in your janky home on the hill, working like a bastard, enjoying your cat and your garden in a placid famblyman setting. Next thing you know a swarm of ronies come flapping in and you’re out on your ass again. So it goes. The lil lady and I broke our heads trying to come up with ways to salvage our life in that rusty old sausage factory N.Y.C., but with the lease coming due & wintertime looming there wasn’t a plan in sight, so here we are being a pair of mooches again. Amsterdam is where my family live, all in separate houses now, and I’m lucky to be able to count on em in gruesome times such as these. Our 10-day quarantine is over and we’ve been creeping around the old spots, empty canals, rainy days, looking to get smart, fit, and a bit less drunk.

What a summer, though! It was a weird and eerie privilege to be one of the few musicians in NYC still performing almost daily. I talked about that all plenty in my last post, but now that I’ve had to do without it for a while I’m beginning to realize how lucky I really was. Might ease me itchy fingers with some fresh livestreams, if there’s still an appetite for those these days. But yeah, so our lease expired on October 15th and that’s where the rug got pulled out from us. Sold most of our things and stashed the rest with pals. Spent two weeks in Ariel’s old hometown of Tupper Lake - see the photos above - and came back to the city to vote and fly on off again, this time to my old family stomping ground. Seems to be the thing these days.

All of which was a bit of a bummer. Not where I’d fancied myself being at this point in my life. Tactical retreat, eh?

But hey, big news on the album front. Impatient tho I’ve been to just release the damn thing - I’ve had a “finished” solo cut since June - I held off because a few really wonderful opportunities floated my way. The one I can finally talk about is that Tony Garnier is playing bass on the record. That’s a big deal - Tony’s an absolutely legendary career man who’s played with everyone from Tom Waits to Paul Simon and whose main gig is as Bob Dylan’s permanent touring/recording bassist from the 80s on. I don’t think I could’ve picked anyone in the world over him. We recorded his parts on Sept. 29th at Van Gelder Studios in New Jersey - you’d have to Google that place to get a handle on how many legendary albums were recorded between those walls - and it sounded glorious. Ghosts galore! All of this was made possible by ace producer Perry Margouleff, who’s been a mentor of sorts for years - he gifted me the 1930s Gibson-made guitar that I used on *Masks & Mirrors* as well as the new album - and who will be doing the mixing for the final product. How bout that? And it actually looks like there’s more to come on the overdub front, altho I’d rather not jump the gun on that one till it’s all done.

Delays are only natural in this time of the Rona, I suppose. The people who helped fund the album on IndieGoGo have already received a copy of the solo takes (without any of the fancy production or overdubs) that got Perry and the other industry chaps interested in the project. Seemed only fair to hook up my backers, considering the original release date I set on the crowdfund was May or something. Everyone else is gonna have to wait, I guess! What with the goddamn pandemic and the political madness it seems a lot of people in the biz are waiting till the new year to start putting things out, and it looks like it’ll be the same for me. We’re not even done overdubbing yet, let alone mixing, mastering, and pressing the records! Meanwhile I’ve got to figure out what to do with my time here in the old country. I’ve got some work ahead getting all me ducks in a row for the album release - quack quack - preparing videos, photos, album art, PR shite, Fancy Contacts and so on. Meanwhile, while I have the last of my summer fat left to burn, I’d better try and get back to writing... I usually put out albums at a leisurely pace of one every couple years, but what with performing being a thing of the past I might as well try and double that. The fuck else am I supposed to do? With the world likely to remain all gummed and masked-up there’s not many options for us music bums aside from scribbling like hell and trying to land a record deal or something. Eh? Or get a real job, I guess, which is what I may have to do come January unless a miracle happens. Never had one yet, can you believe that? All I’ve ever done is play music.

Could be worse. I’m not grumbling. There’s been enough encouraging news & feedback on the album front that I’m feeling genuinely hopeful about the whole Career thing… I already felt good about the album but I feel even better about it now that all these people I have such enormous respect for are willing to sign their names to the thing. So I’m soldierin’ on, lads lasses & everyone in between! See you on the other side of the damn ocean some day!

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lamiasluck · 5 years ago

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All I Want for Christmas Is...

(This is based off my previous Illinois and Yancy thing. So read that for context!)

Summary: It's wintertime and coming close to the holidays. Yancy and everyone else in the prison have lots of plans for celebrations! Though Yancy finds himself all alone every time visitation day rolls on by. Illinois on the other hand... is just as lonely. Harsh winters meant there were little adventures to be had. More often then not he had to stay at home with nothing to do.

Maybe it's finally time for the two to reconnect again.

Characters: Illinois & Yancy

Words: 1772

Chapter 2

Read on AO3!

It was that time of year again. Thick blankets of snow covered the outside as far as the eye could see. For Yancy, that meant that everyone was cooped up inside the prison with little to do. For Illinois, that meant he had to stay in his house with absolutely nothing to do.

The adventurer let out a heavy sigh as he lay in bed. Winter was by far his least favourite season. There were few places to adventure, and besides, staying outside in these conditions left him at high risk for hypothermia. So he stayed at his house by himself. Sure, occasionally he went to a bar to socialize, but that got boring quickly. He needed more, needed a thrill. He had no choice but to wait this out. Day by day, hour by excruciating hour.

Being alone in a cave was one thing. Being alone in a house was another thing entirely. He wasn’t feeling the holiday spirit, that was for sure.

A sudden weight placed on his chest made him open his eyes, where he met face to face with his cat. Ellie, a black cat with golden eyes, stared unblinking at her owner and waited.

While cute, Illinois knew exactly what Ellie wanted. Food. He stroked along her back and closed his eyes again. “Just five more minutes...”

“Mrrow!” roared Ellie. Her tail swished around with impatience. She firmly placed her paws on his chest and kneaded his shirt, hard.

Illinois jolted awake at the sensation. “Alright, alright I’m up!” he sighed as he stood up. Ellie was already dashing to the kitchen, meowing in victory. The snow meant she couldn’t go out either, which was a shame considering she loved the outdoors as much as he did. Perhaps she became antsy from that fact. Illinois knows he feels the same.

There was nothing planned for today, much to his frustration. He had no one to talk to either. Besides Ellie, of course, but he couldn’t get an exciting conversation out of her. He hasn’t had an adventure partner in a while now that he thinks of it.

His last partner was Yancy.

His brows furrowed as he thought about the convict. Oddly enough he began to miss his loud attitude. An attitude like that could liven up his place.

Yancy never minded the snow. Sure, he had to stay inside, but that was never too big of a problem. More often than not, he and the other prisoners found ways to entertain themselves. They sang festive carols, decorate the prison with little things the guards gave them, and tried their best to keep a jolly attitude. The holidays held a special place in their hearts, to say the least. Though Yancy didn’t have as much to look forward to compared to the others.

Around this time of year allowed another opportunity. Extended visitation periods. When Yancy sat by the tables at lunch, he heard everyone talk about who’s going to visit them. Family, significant others, friends… Everyone had someone to look forward to. All except him.

Sometimes there was envy blossoming in his heart whenever he heard them talk, but he’d never show it. A smile and a strong voice could do wonders for his act. No one suspected a thing. So whenever Yancy went back to his cell, all alone, he had the time to reflect on his situation. Maybe he should ask for a cellmate. Perhaps it was simply the company he was missing.

The last cellmate he had was Illinois.

Nothing surprised him more than the fact he actually grown to miss that bastard. Maybe it was his previously mentioned loneliness, maybe he got attached too quickly, but a part of him felt like he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Not like how he and Illinois talked, at least. There was no inequality between them. The other prisoners respected him as a leader, but that meant there was always a sense of superiority between him and them. Illinois definitely didn’t respect him as a leader. That pissed him off at first, however later on it just felt like they were friends.

Christ, has he never had a friend before?

When Illinois gave him that flip phone all those months ago, he made sure to hide it well. Usually that meant hiding it under his pillowcase, rolling it in his sleeve instead of his cigarettes, and so forth. He hasn’t used it yet though, hasn’t come up with a reason to. This couldn’t be considered a good reason probably ---what was a good reason to call?--- but there was no harm in being self indulgent every once and awhile, right?

Illinois’ number was the only thing the phone had. Why Illinois gave him such an old phone was a mystery to him, but then again, he probably gave all his adventure partners a phone like this. Once the lights were off and the guards eased up on their patrol, he snuck out the phone and called. As the phone rang, he began to regret his decision more and more.

Damnit, he’s probably busy. Why the hell did I call? I should hang up-

“Hello?” Illinois’ voice was staticky in the phone’s speakers, breaking him out of his thoughts. Yancy felt his stomach drop upon hearing it.

Too late to back out now. Yancy cleared his throat, keeping his voice low in order to not be found out. “Uh... hey freebird. How’s it goin’?”

“Yancy?” Illinois sat up from his position on the couch. He turned off whatever program he was barely paying attention to, fully focused on Yancy’s sudden call. “I didn’t think you’d call.”

“Yeah, well...” Yancy pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I just wanted to check up on youse.” He bit his tongue as soon as he said that. No, that sounds weird. I don’t give a shit about him. “I didn’t know if your dumbass died or somethin’.” Saved it.

Illinois laughed through the poor speakers. “I could say the same to you, jailbird. I’m surprised someone hasn’t put you in your place yet.”

“You’s the only one that came close, and we both know how that went.”

“Yeah, I kicked your ass.”

“As if!” Yancy quickly covered his mouth, staring wide eyed at the cell bars. Once the coast was clear, he spoke again in a more hushed tone. “Youse lucky I didn’t kill ya.”

More laughter. “You believe whatever you want… but in all seriousness, is there any reason you called? Sorry to burst your bubble, Yancy, but now’s not a good time for adventuring.”

“Oh, sorry." Damnit, I knew this was a bad idea. "Was I only supposed to call youse for adventurin’?”

“No, I just didn’t think you’d call for anything else.”

“I just wanted to talk to ya, freebird,” Yancy blurted out. He shut his mouth tight afterwards, but it was too late.

“Is that so?” The speaker could mask the genuine shock in Illinois’ voice. Though he pick pick up his charm easily. “Sounds like you fell in love with me~”

“Right, right ‘cause me callin’ youse means I wanna suck your dick. Youse shut your trap.” Yancy couldn’t roll his eyes harder even if he tried. However, there was a certain nostalgia within their bickering. “Nice to hear that youse didn’t change.”

“Nice to hear you in the holiday spirit.”

Yancy snorted. “Yeah, we’s got a whole thing goin’ on ‘ere,” he said, changing the subject. “What youse doin’ for Christmas, freebird? Got a big adventure where youse like, find Santa or somethin’?”

“Find Santa? What the hell, Yancy?” Illinois whispered to himself with a confused expression. “Well, no, I don’t have anything planned. I’m probably gonna stay at home-”

“By yourself?!” With furrowed brows, Yancy sat up in a mix of shock and confusion. He glanced at his cell door, but the guards finding him out was the last of his worries now.

Illinois always spent his holidays by himself, but why did he feel so bad about it now? Yancy’s tone sounded concerned. It made Illinois feel much more alone than he already did in his house. Nonetheless he continued to his mask his worries. “Well, yeah…? Who would I be with?”

Yancy rubbed the back of his neck as he frowned. “I dunno I thought youse would have some broad wit’ ya.”

“I haven’t had another partner after you left.”

He sputtered when he heard that. “Oh, now who sounds like they’s fell in love?!”

“It’s not like that, don’t get your hopes up,” Illinois laughed. “No one wants to adventure right now.” This time of year must be a real buzzkill for every adventurer because it certainly wasn’t his fault. How would pass up an opportunity to adventure with him, after all? “Maybe you can come over and spend Christmas with me. Promise I’ll make it worth your time~”

He considered it. He really, really considered escaping again. But it’d be too much trouble all for one guy. “I can’t, the others want to celebrate together. It’d be nice though.” He didn’t care about Illinois that much, it’s too risky. “Maybe youse could visit though.” Unless…

“That wouldn’t end well.” Like a burst bubble, Illinois tried to pop his idea immediately.

“Youse don’t know that.” However, he wasn’t having any of that. This was just as, if not more risky than escaping again, but it wasn't impossible. “Yeah… actually I could make it happen.” While in his train of thought, he heard footsteps approaching. “Oh, shit someone’s coming. I’ll talk to youse soon, Illinois.”

“What? Wait, Yancy what are you-” It was too late. Yancy hung up before he could get another word in.

He recently escaped from that place months ago. Returning there was the last thing he could ask for. What was he going to do anyways? Stroll in there like normal? As much as he believed his conscious was squeaky clean, on paper he was an ex-convict. Which he still thought was utter bullshit, however his ---very valid--- opinion didn’t matter in jail. Maybe Yancy could break him out again, but he really didn’t want to stay there again. That would be a lot of trouble for one guy.

Within the chaos of questions was a familiar feeling. A buzzing thrill of adventure. Possible adventure, sure, but it gave a thrill nonetheless. Yancy was a man of surprises, and Illinois was a man that loved mysteries. So put he the phone down and decided to pack it in for tonight, waiting eagerly for another call. For once the lonely silence didn’t phase him.

#yancy #illinois #ahwm #markiplier #markiplier egos #fanfic

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allinlowercase · 5 years ago

Text

If I Could Tell Him - Chapter Three

Chapter Three - At the Beginning

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: Alaska hadn't intended to be slingshot back into 1960. Life doesn't always live up to our intentions. When she and her friend Jackie are supposedly hit by Paul's car, they are by chance swept into the Beatle's orbit. But while Alaska struggles to reconcile her lost future and past, Jackie is unable to contain her excitement.

A/N: Hello there *swings comically elaborate candelabra around* welcome to my fic. Thank you for reading! If you see anything that’s inaccurate in this series please don’t hesitate to let me know. I like to think I do a good job of researching my shit, but I am only human.

January 18th, 1963

I startled awake at the sound of a brisk knock on wood. Looking up from my place in a highly uncomfortable chair, I saw a nurse making her way towards Jackie's bed; I must've dozed off. After determining that I was in surprisingly exceptional shape for being hit by a car, the doctor decided that I could handle the news that Jackie was faring much worse than I. She suffered from fractures in her left clavicle and femur, and the bruises that covered her were still purpling. Although everyone thought Paul'd hit us with his car, I knew that Jackie could've been injured much worse from that semi. Whatever God had saved me from extensive injury had also saved Jackie's life.

The nurse smiled at me from the other side of Jackie, and as she started to check her vitals I untangled myself from a plastic bedside chair, pulling my legs down from their perch on the side of Jackie's bed. "How is she?" I asked when the nurse had finished. She'd been Jackie's nurse for a few days now; her name was Mary. Mary offered me another light smile.

"She's improving, little by little. She just needs to be resting and getting her strength back up. How are you this morning, is there anything I can get you?" she asked. I'd kept up a near-constant vigil for Jackie, and the hospital staff had been exceptionally lax on me. There were, of course, the factors that I didn't have anywhere else to stay, and that Jackie was in a critical condition. But I also came away with the feeling that the hospital staff in this unit were just very kind people. Mary had been amazing while she was Jackie's nurse, and all the other nurses seemed happy and eager to be just as kind. I especially liked the doctor, Dr. Taylor, who'd managed to miraculously check by for Jackie every time she happened to be awake.

I shot her back a smile, a small one. "If you could perhaps bring me some coffee? That would be great," I asked softly. There wasn't always coffee left in the nurse's office, but Mary nodded and promised to be back, passing Paul on her way through the doorway. I hadn't expected him to do as much as he had for us. He visited every other day or so; whenever he did Jackie would sometimes be up. She, of course, thought she was having fever dreams, and I didn't see much point in correcting her yet. She was still fragile.

When Paul found that I only had about forty dollars between us (which as it turns out, can get us pretty far) he offered to help pay. He also offered his couch from his living room and a few other things: would I like him to bring by dinner? The food in the hospital can't be that great. Was I sure I wasn't cold? My shirt looked awfully thin and the hospital, as a rule, was pretty chilly, besides it being the wintertime. Would Jackie and I enjoy sitting in on a session of his band, when she was out of hospital? He already knew that Jackie recognized him and was a fan; she looked at him the way Mary must have looked at Gabriel - terribly confused and maybe a little frightened, but in intense awe.

I hadn't taken up a lot of them; I knew he felt guilty for the idea of having hit us with his car, which he obviously thought caused Jackie's injuries. I don't know, maybe he was partly responsible. But I did know that he hadn't broken Jackie's femur, and that combined with her being in such a bad state had fueled me to refuse his offers of a couch and going out for food. To him, it was an offer to get my mind away for a little bit, but that didn't seem right to me.

"Hello," he started, raising his hand in a little wave. He pulled up the only other vacant chair in the room. "How is she?" he asked, crossing his legs. I shrugged.

"Well, she's been able to stay awake for longer periods now, but it's followed by almost equal bouts of sleep. I don't know if that's better or worse. Mary said she was doing better, in terms of vitals. I think she's getting more lucid too, she's remembering conversations better," I offered. He nodded and rubbed his jawline. Jackie rustled around in the bed next to us and I looked over to see her awake. I offered a small smile, which she tried to return, although the bruising on her cheek caused her obvious pain.

"Hey there Alaska." I reached out and squeezed her right hand, which had remained fairly unbruised. "Hi, fever dream Paul." He nodded, trying to hold back a nervous chuckle. He found it almost funny how little Jackie believed that it was him. "Has Taylor been by? I haven't seen him in a while."

"You saw him this morning," I reminded her; she wasn't the best at tracking time yet. She stuck her tongue out at me.

"Fuck you man, that is a while," she muttered, digging her head into her pillow, trying to make a comfier notch. In the beginning, I couldn't tell if Paul was bothered by Jackie's swearing, but I think he was just surprised. Now he snorted.

"In a manner of sorts, I suppose it's a while," he offered in defense. There was another crisp knock at the door. I turned to see Mary proudly entering with a mug of coffee. Paul raised his eyebrow as I cradled it for a second before taking a sip. "Are you sure that's a good idea Alaska? It's already six at night."

I shrugged. "I'll be up for a little while, besides I just slept. I don't want to be groggy." Paul sent me a disapproving side-eye.

"I worry, about you sleeping in that chair every night and eating mostly from the hospital. It's doing you a disservice, I think. You know I've room at home," he offered. I shrugged and felt Jackie's eyes on me.

"I don't spend every night in this chair. Sometimes, I manage to find a couch in a waiting room," I replied like that made a difference, pausing to blow on the coffee. "Besides, the food is not that bad, I'm not expecting Gordan Ramsey." Paul looked confused at my accidental pop culture slip but didn't address it. I cursed myself. Memo to work on that.

"Alaska no," Jackie piped up from her spot on the bed. I looked over at her, sheepish. I hadn't really discussed this with Paul in front of Jackie before. "I'm bedridden, not dead and I'm not going anywhere. If you're trying to tell me that I'm your excuse to not go home with Paul fucking McCartney, I will beat your ass."

I snorted. "You'll beat my ass? You'll beat my ass right from that hospital bed?" She glared at me in response.

"I'm serious. I don't want you to sacrifice your own well being because of me. I'll feel like shit for it. I want you out of this room tonight, or else I will grab you by the neck and shove you down a shower drain. Do you hear me?" Paul looked a little perturbed by the scope of the threat, but I lifted both my palms up in defeat, not exactly thrilled to be sharing a living space with a stranger. Jackie was right though; I wasn't taking care of myself.

Our conversation went on for a little longer before Mary came back with Jackie's dinner, and shooed us out at her request. I pulled on a cardigan and jacket that Paul had brought me from his house and started my exit from the hospital with him. We started on the sidewalk towards his house.

Feeling otherwise awkward, I started humming. Paul looked at me queerly. "That's quite catchy; you come up with that yourself?" he asked. I paused, panicking for a moment as I realized it was the guitar melody from Miss You.

"Um, maybe? I think I've heard it somewhere, though I can't remember where. Been driving me nuts," I offered, trying to sound as vague and honest as possible. I could lie somewhat well, but I usually needed time to prepare for it; I wasn't an on the spot type. He seemed to accept that though, and we continued walking, making some genuinely pleasant conversation. Paul expressed frustration over his commute from home to the studio, and I told him about my own hometown.

I wasn't sure how to be here without changing anything later on. That sounded silly to me, the idea that I could change the future, but I realized that I very well could. I could try to Yesterday someone's ass and steal their song or a novel. I could hand Paul the lyrics to his most beloved songs right now and go for a writing credit. Hell, I could potentially stop Revolution No. 9 from making its way out into the world if Paul's guilt kept me around that long. It was constantly hitting me, the power of time travel. But taking someone else's work seemed seedy, and I wasn't down for it, so I tried not to do stuff like that: humming songs that don't exist yet.

We reached what I supposed was his family's home. It was pretty, with brickwork and hedges around where the yard met the sidewalk. Pretty standard I supposed; admittedly, I don't know much about English architecture. As Paul opened the door and let me in, we were met by the call of a man.

"Paul, come in the kitchen," the voice directed, stern but not unkind. Paul shrugged off his coat, hanging it on a coat rack, and offering to take his jacket back too. I followed him into a small yet cozy kitchen, where a young man was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper, and an older man stood at the stove. Squinting, I could see the date on the newspaper read 18 January 1963. I kept forgetting what day it was, though I know I asked Mary more than once.

The young man looked up from his newspaper and made a grunt in surprise. He folded it loudly and stood to offer his hand. I took it and shook as he introduced himself.

"Hello there, I'm Mike, this sod's brother. Welcome to the McCartney residence."

#classic rock #paul mccartney #the beatles #fanfic #fanfiction #time travel

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shadesofjungkook · 6 years ago

Text

all i want for christmas is you

words: 2261

prompt: “you made me a christmas playlist but it’s just mariah carey’s ‘all i want for christmas is you’. i can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke”

genre: fluff

a/n: Welcome to Day 4 of Ficmas! this is an ongoing series that i thought i would attempt to do until christmas day! i’ve been under the weather these past few days so i apologize if this is subpar. i was hyped up on cold medicine when i wrote it buuuuut i still hope you enjoy it for what it is! 💖✨

you are three things: a broke college student, a barista at your campus coffee shop and most importantly a music playlist god. being a music playlist god didn’t stop you from being broke but it did make your time working at the student brew more bearable.

after three semesters of working at the student brew, you grew tired of the constant drone of the satellite radio that played throughout the shop. so, for the sake of your sanity, you took it upon yourself to curate your own playlists for the coffee shop.

to your surprise —and your boss’s— it became a huge success and the shop became the ‘it’ place to hang out. students enjoyed their drinks and treats while bobbing their heads to the beat of the music, and humming along to the various melodies. it was rewarding to see your talent in putting songs in a certain order be appreciated by so many. it made your time working at the student brew just a bit more worth it.

well, that and other reason that went by the name of jeon jungkook.

you never planned on having a favourite customer at the shop. but when jungkook took a special interest in your playlists, your song selections and the reasons behind them you couldn’t help but be a little endeared. the fact that he was also so cute was just a bonus. so, you gave him special privileges. he’d get extra whip cream on his hot chocolates, free upsizes and little happy faces drawn next to his name on his cups of coffee. but his favourite privilege (and yours), was when you let him stay back in the shop to keep you company after the last customer left for the night.

tonight, was another one of those nights where jungkook employed his after closing privileges. the last customer had left an hour ago and you finished all the closing procedures for the shop. you felt bad letting jungkook wait on you so you rushed off to the shop’s staff room, ripped off your apron, and clocked out of your shift.

you sped walk your way back into the shop and took a spot behind the front counter. jungkook was leaning into the counter on the other side, humming to jingle bell rock playing above. when he saw you come closer he leaned in even more and donned a wide grin.

“i liked the playlist you made today.”

“did you? i was sort of worried it would be too cliché since every other place in the english-speaking world is playing the same songs twenty-four seven.”

“true. but i still like your order of cliché christmas songs the best.”

you roll your eyes, ignoring jungkook’s compliment and the heat rising to the tips of your ears. “well aren’t you sweet?”

jungkook chuckles. “actually,” he begins, “i’m sweet and an aspiring christmas music playlist god.”

you raise your eyebrows at him, “oh really? when did this happen?”

he grins, “while you were cleaning up.”

you pull yourself across the countertop, closing the distance between you and jungkook. you bring your arm out in front of him with your palm open. you open and close it, itching for the boy to hand over his phone so you can see his playlist.

jungkook laughs at your eagerness but shakes his head. “no way. i want you to hear the playlist before you see what songs i put on it.”

you pout and let your hand fall, your shoulders following suit. “fine. but can i at least have your phone so i can plug it into the sound system?”

“only if you don’t peek and let me press play.”

your head rolls from one side to the other as you let out a sigh. “fine.”

jungkook’s shoulders shake, a breathy chuckle emitting from his lips. you want to roll your eyes at him again but only let a smile small appear on your face instead.

“well? are you going to come around the counter and show me this playlist? or were you just bluffing?”

jungkook scoffs as he moves away from you. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and he makes his way around the counter. he walks up to you and opens his hand face up. you smirk as you turn to your right to unplug your phone from the aux cord connected to the shop’s sound system. you then turn back to jungkook and take a step back. you extend your arm, beckoning him to plug in his phone and play the playlist he insisted on keeping secret.

he smiles and moves forward. he plugs the aux cord into his phone and pulls up his music app. he pauses and peeks his head over his shoulder to look at you. “ready?”

“are you ready for judgement?”

jungkook scoffs. “my playlist is golden. i’m just worried you won’t understand how good it is.”

you put a hand on your chest, mock shock written on your face. “try me jeon.”

he smirks before he turns back to his phone and presses play. there’s a moment of silence before you hear the sound of twinkling trickle out of the shop’s speakers. then you hear a specific vocal run that would trigger any christmas scrooge.

“really? you’re going to start off your christmas playlist with all i want for christmas is you?”

jungkook smiles wide as he fires finger guns at you. “hell yeah. who doesn’t love a little mariah carey in the wintertime.”

you roll your eyes and take a step closer to jungkook to lightly slap him on his chest. he curls into the hit letting a small giggle escape his lips. you smile in response, too endeared in him to really be mad at his song choice. his smile mirrors your own before he takes your hands into his.

your eyes widen and you let out a squeak as jungkook pulls you into his chest. he laughs, bringing your connected hands above your heads and prompting you to walk underneath. you giggle but go along with his little impromptu dance. as you make your way back around, jungkook pulls you close to him again, with your back flush against his chest. you bite your lip, feeling the rush of christmas red run straight to your cheeks.

as quickly as your blush appears jungkook spins you back out and away from him. he lets go of your hand, leaving you breathless as he begins to swing his arms wildly from left to right. his own version of the carlton has you throwing your head back in laughter and grabbing your stomach as it cramps up with every laugh. jungkook’s eyes grow smaller, crinkling at the sides as he basks in your laughter.

jungkook stops his little dance as the song begins to fade out. you wipe the tears brimming at your eyes, letting the last of your giggles come out. the song finishes and you open your mouth to ask jungkook what song he had picked out next when you hear a familiar tune begin to fill the room.

“is this…? is this all i want for christmas is youagain?”

jungkook stands tall with a proud smile on his face as he brushes an imaginary beard, his one eyebrow raised.

“maybe so.”

“jungkook. we just heard this, skip to the next song.”

an almost wicked smile flashes across the boy’s face as he turns away from you to unlock his phone. he turns back to face you a little and you can see the song’s cover art on his screen. you glance up from his phone and see jungkook staring at you, that same wicked smile on his face.

“just remember, you asked me to skip this song.”

“just play the next song already.”

he shrugs his shoulder and presses the skip button. you peek at his phone to see what song he chose when you notice you’ve seen no change. mariah carey is still displayed on his phone’s screen and that same twinkling intro plays out from the speakers above you.

your eyebrows furrow as you switch your eyes between jungkook’s eyes and his phone.

“jungkook, i think you accidentally pressed the repeat button on your phone. there’s no way you put this song on for the third time.”

jungkook doesn’t say anything right away. he smirks at you as he beckons you over and offers his phone up to you.

“if you want to know what my playlist is you can look through it yourself.”

you throw both your hands up in the air. “now you’re letting me see your playlist.”

jungkook nods his head and steps back as you move up to grab his phone. he moves to the other side of you and you look up at him eyeing him and his every move. he tucks his lips into his mouth, trying his best to contain himself, as he watches you divert your attention back to his phone and press the skip button.

you are once again met with mariah carey sitting in the snow on the phone’s screen as her voice echoes out from above. you whip your head back to jungkook who has an ear-splitting grin on his face. you look back at his phone and double check that the song isn’t on repeat. it isn’t. you shake your head, your mouth opening and closing before you press skip again.

all i want for christmas is you.

skip.

all i want for christmas is you.

skip.

all i want for christmas is you.

skip. skip. skip

all i want for christmas is you.

by now jungkook is howling beside you, watching the confusion course through your face. you close your eyes and let out a huff of air. you place jungkook’s phone down and slowly turn your head to shoot daggers straight into his eyes. the boy remains unaffected by your dangerous stare as he tilts his head and lets that wicked smile back on his face.

“it’s a pretty kick-ass playlist don’t you think?”

“jeon jungkook this has got to be some kind of sick joke.” you scoff.

he shakes his head. “nope. this is a special playlist just for you.”

you throw your hands up in the air. “what’s so special about hearing mariah carey tell me that all she wants for christmas is me?”

jungkook chuckles at your frustration. you stare up at him as he pauses to let his eyes search between yours. almost like he was trying to send you a message telepathically.

“i don’t think it’s mariah that’s the one who’s trying to tell you that all they want for christmas is you,” he says in a soft voice.

you let your head fall back. your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare at the ceiling mariah's chipper voice fogging up your mind. you pull your head upright again, gazing at jungkook with a pout set in your face.

“this song has rotted my brain jungkook. just tell me what the heck you mean.”

jungkook shuts his eyes and throws back his head. a groan travels up his neck and out of his mouth. he rolls his head back to the side and stares at you with immense pity. you stare back at him more confusion written on your face and jungkook shakes his head and lets out a weak chuckle.

“it’s me idiot. i’m the one trying to say that all i want for christmas is you.”

your eyes grow as each second of realization passes by. the blush from earlier makes a comeback to your cheeks as you drop your gaze to the floor. you bring your hands to your face as you shake your head back and forth.

i really am an idiot.you think.

jungkook chuckles. he steps closer to you and pulls your hands away from your face and holds them within his own. he swings them back and forth, pulling a small giggle out of you as you finally glance back up at him. you’re greeted with a warm smile when you do and your chest squeezes. jungkook squeezes your hands and takes a deep breath.

“i know this isn’t the most romantic way to ask someone out… but i thought it made sense with you since you make playlists and stuff… uh, anyway, i think just think you’re a really cool person and i’ve enjoyed talking and getting to know you. plus, i think you’re super cute and i’ve wanted to ask you out for so long but i just couldn’t muster up the coura-.”

jungkook is silenced with your soft lips and arms around his neck. the shock of your soft impact subsides and he takes no time to wrap his arms around you. he pulls you closer into his embrace and you smile into his lips before you pull back and gaze up into his eyes.

“well, i happen to think that making a playlist for the person you like is the most romantic thing in the world.”

jungkook beams. “will you make my wish come true, and be all that i want for christmas this year?”

you tilt your head and let a smug smile creep along your face. “how about letting me be all you want for longer than just christmas?”

jungkook nods his head. “hell yeah, i’d let you do that.”

you giggle as you lift yourself up on the tips of your toes. mariah’s voice still wafts through the coffee shop as you pull jungkook down in for another kiss.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook reaction #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts reactions #writing #ficmas 2018 #long #ALSO I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING BEHIND ON FICMAS #I MIGHT HAVE TO MAKE IT A WEEK LONG PROJECT INSTEAD OF 12 DAYS :(#BUT WE'LL SEE #IF I CAN JUST PUMP OUT THINGS IN THE NEXT FEW DAYS

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phoutube · 6 years ago

Text

Pacing - Oneshot

ao3 link - kudos appreciated!

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Dan Howell/Phil Lester

Word Count: 2423

Summary: It was snowing. It was mid-December and Dan was curled up on a sofa meant for two, swaddled in a fluffy blanket and watching the snow drift by outside. The heating was on in the flat, the potted plants that usually sat on the balcony had been brought inside, and the duvet that belonged on his and Phil’s bed was casually thrown over the back of the couch.

Pacing - by @dan-howells-tongue

It was snowing.

It was mid-December and Dan was curled up on a sofa meant for two, swaddled in a fluffy blanket and watching the snow drift by outside.

The heating was on in the flat, the potted plants that usually sat on the balcony had been brought inside, and the duvet that belonged on his and Phil’s bed was casually thrown over the back of the couch.

It could be considered very peaceful, if not for the fact that Phil had left the flat an hour ago in search of hot chocolate and other necessities (they had run out) and now the news playing on the dim television screen showed that the streets had been closed down in lieu of an impending snowstorm.

He had been wondering what had taken Phil so long. Tesco wasn’t more than a ten-minute Tube ride away. So where could he be? The streets were clogged, he knew that, but Phil should have been home twenty minutes ago. What happened? Where was he? Was he okay?

Dan sighed. He just wanted Phil to be safe and here with him.

Stretching his hand out to the coffee table in front of him, Dan grabbed his phone and started swiping on the screen, trying not to let his anxiousness show.

...Because obviously, the fact that he was alone in the flat did not mean that he was free from embarrassment. God, why did everything have to make him so nervous? He couldn’t even go twenty minutes without hearing from Phil before starting to panic. Dan shook his head at himself, and then pressed the green button that said Call Phil.

It rang four times, and then went to voicemail.

Dan didn’t bother leaving a message, and instead swallowed the growing knot of anxiety in his stomach. He pressed Call Phil again.

Nobody answered.

Maybe Phil’s phone had died, or maybe he had left it at Tesco (which wasn’t uncommon, for Phil) and now he had to travel back to retrieve it.

Yeah, that was probably what was taking so long.

He got up off the couch and walked aimlessly towards the kitchen, clutching the blanket around his shoulders even closer for moral support. Waiting anxiously for Phil to come home didn’t seem like a sitting-down type of problem.

Once he got to the kitchen stove he turned back and paced towards the hallway, turning sharply when he reached their bedroom door and making his way back to the living room.

The blanket kept sliding off his lanky frame. Absentmindedly, he realized he probably looked like an overgrown Russian grandmother or some sort of cryptic nun.

Fuck. There he goes again, letting his mind wander all over the place instead of focusing on the actual maybe-problem.

Why wasn’t Phil picking up the phone? Dan wondered if he should call again. Maybe he didn’t hear the first two calls. Maybe he had put his phone on silent and stuck it in his back pocket. Maybe it had been stolen. Or- or maybe Phil had been mugged and now he was dead lying in a ditch somewhere and Dan had no idea because he was standing here doing nothing.

There were probably valid reasons as to why he wasn’t answering, of course, but his brain seemed to be defenestrating all rational thought. He retrieved his phone from its place on the couch, and he pressed Call Phil again. Maybe he was worrying too much. Maybe he wasn’t worrying enough.

It was at the end of the third ring that Phil picked up.

“Hello? Dan? Is everything alright?”

Dan cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed.

“Er, yeah- everything’s fine, actually--I was just a bit worried because they’re shutting the streets down and I didn’t know if they were going to keep running the Tube and you weren’t answering your phone and I-” He cut himself off. “Sorry. I know you’re probably fine and everything, I was just a bit worried…” Dan trailed off, chewing his lip.

Phil’s soft laugh bled through the speakers. Dan could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “A bit? Dan, everything’s okay. I decided to make a stop on the way home and I, er- got a bit held up. I promise I’m fine and I’ll be home soon, yeah?”

Dan nodded, and then realized that Phil couldn’t see him.

“Yeah.”

A beat, and then Phil’s voice. “Love you, Dan. I’ll see you in a few.”

Dan smiled softly. “Love you too.”

Relief wormed its way through his limbs as Dan exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Phil would be home and then he and Dan could watch cheesy movies on the couch together and pray the power didn’t go out before they made a sinfully large amount of microwave popcorn and ate it all . Maybe they could light candles and have sex in the semi-darkness of the flat, Dan awash with pleasure as Phil came undone on top of him, both panting as the other worked his hands just right. Maybe they’d clean up sleepily and fall asleep together like that, with the battery-operated heater running and blankets from both bedrooms piled on top of them.

He was getting ahead of himself.

Dan sat back down against the couch, flipping idly through channels and wondering whether he would have to go to Netflix to find anything good or if there would be a decent movie playing somewhere.

He had just gotten up to make himself some hot chocolate (he had forgotten they had run out) when he heard keys clinking together at the door, and then a rather frustrated knock as someone realized he would have to use more than a little effort to get the stubborn lock to move.

Dan crossed the kitchen and opened the door, revealing a tired-but-happy Phil with melting snowflakes in his hair and blue eyes shining exceptionally brightly. He was holding a bouquet of pink pansies, that he held out towards Dan.

“I brought you flowers,” Phil said, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile, “Because I realized that it’s been forever since I bought some for you, and I also thought they would look quite pretty on the dining table, especially because it’s winter and all our plants are dead-” he paused as Dan took the flowers and buried his face in them, “-and there was only one florist that was still open. She looked at me like I was crazy when I said I wanted an entire bouquet! I should have realized that not many flowers grow in the wintertime,” he added, frowning.

Dan grinned, and opened his arms for a hug. “I appreciate the surprise, Phil. Sorry for spamming you with calls and pacing around the flat because I assumed you were dead.”

Phil, whose arms were wrapped tightly around him, laughed into his shoulder. “Dan, you absolute twat, you really thought I died? And the first thing you thought to do was walk in circles?”

Dan snorted over-exaggeratedly and swatted at Phil’s ass with his free hand. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

Phil leaned back and pecked him on the lips. “You’d better not, Howell. Next thing you know our house will have been robbed and you’d be pacing around my dead body.”

Dan shuddered. “Ugh, don’t make me imagine that.” He stepped away from Phil and turned to find a vase. There was probably one under the sink, or perhaps in the AmazingPhil room. There were all sorts of useless props in there.

After he had located a vase and had placed the flowers inside, he felt a smile tug at his lips as Phil stepped up behind him and wormed his arms around his waist, burying his nose in Dan’s hair.

“Affectionate today, are we?” Dan teased, hiding a smile.

“Oh shut up, you were the one panicking over nothing!” Phil shot back, his fond tone nowhere near as vicious as his words.

Dan tipped his head back to rest it on Phil’s shoulder. Phil pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, smiling while he did so. He exhaled over-exaggeratedly, allowing his hot breath to wash over the spot.

“Stop, that tickles,” Dan said, with no conviction behind the words. He was grinning fully, now.

Phil bit down lightly, teasingly- until Dan started worming away impatiently.

“C’mon Phil, I wanted to make popcorn! Do you want to find a movie?”

Phil rolled his eyes and pressed another quick kiss to Dan’s cheek--before moving away quickly in search of the TV remote.

Dan grabbed one of the plastic bags that Phil had brought home and dug through it until he found the popcorn box. His stomach was growling in anticipation. Behind him, he could hear Phil flipping through channels impatiently.

“D’you wanna just try Netflix? I know we can only use it on the laptops, but maybe that would be better? Cozier, maybe,” Dan suggested, placing the bag on the plate and turning on the microwave.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Behind him, Dan heard Phil wander off in search of the computer. Dan grabbed a bowl from the lower cupboards and set it on the countertop, nearly hitting his head in the process.

When the popcorn was ready and Phil had located the laptop (and grabbed a couple extra blankets), Dan walked into the living room and set the bowl down on the table. Phil was already sat on the couch, scrolling through Netflix and in his pyjamas.

Dan settled next to him, tucking his own ankle behind Phil’s and resting his head on his bony shoulder.

“What do you feel like watching? Horror? Something dramatic? Romance? Sci-Fi?” Phil suggested, rattling off movie genres off the top of his head. Dan supposed that was what happened when you were dating someone with a degree in filming.

Dan shook his head. “Something with adventure, or something funny, maybe. I don’t want to fall asleep.”

Phil snorted. “Are you implying that horror movies make you want to sleep? Because, considering past experiences, it seems to be quite the opposite…” Phil trailed off, turning his head to look at Dan, whose eyes were closed.

“D’you want to watch a TV series, maybe? Then we won’t feel as bad if we abandon it halfway through,” Phil suggested, resting his head on top of Dan’s. Dan tilted his head up to kiss Phils chin. “How about The Office, or Brooklyn 99? I heard that was good. Parks and Rec., maybe? I feel like I need something to laugh at after all that.”

“All what? Your pacing?” Phil teased lightly. Dan smacked the back of his head.

“You twat! Actually shut up.”

Phil shrugged and returned his focus on the computer screen. “We’ve already finished The Office, haven’t we?”

Dan frowned. “Sorry. I forgot. I remember we started Parks and Recreation, but you wanted to wait until spring when it was warmer out, and sunny?”

Phil nodded. “So we could connect more with the characters on the show, you know- walking around in parks and stuff.” As he said this, he poked Dan’s cheek fondly.

“I feel like you and I both know that’s not what the show is about, but okay.”

Phil smiled innocently, batting his eyelashes in an attempt to make Dan smile. Dan felt his heart start to fucking melt or whatever.

“Brooklyn 99 it is, then,” Phil said, clicking on the show.

As the episode started, Dan leaned back against Phil, who wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Balancing the small laptop on both of their laps wasn’t an easy task, but it definitely wasn’t the first time they had curled up like this.

And honestly, nights like these was truly why he loved Phil. Even fighting over blankets and popcorn bowls and debating the personalities of the characters on screen really made it all the more worthwhile.

It was snowing outside, and the world was slowly becoming more and more silent as the evening wore on.

Dan and Phil were cuddling under three massive blankets, limbs tangled together as the music and voices from the show echoed around the empty flat.

They were sharing a bowl of popcorn, and at one point Phil had gotten up to make both of them warm drinks. Dan had whined dramatically at the loss of body heat, but the resulting cup of hot chocolate, he thought, was definitely worth it.

In this moment, he felt alive.

It wasn’t until late at night when Phil’s head was nodding and Dan’s limbs felt heavy that he finally closed the laptop. Dan set it on the table and pushed Phil back against the couch gently, climbing on top of him and tucking the blankets around them.

Phil’s arms automatically wrapped around his body, one hand on his lower back, the other running lazily through his hair.

Dan rested his head on Phil’s chest, their legs tangling together as he settled down. Phil’s breaths were deep, on the edge of sleep. Dan wrapped his own arms around Phil, reveling in the comfort and warmth his significant other was providing.

Tilting his head up one last time, Dan pressed a chaste kiss to Phil’s cheek. “Goodnight, Phil. I love you, so-” his voice broke, for some reason. “-so, much. I just hope you know that.” Fuck, he was not about to cry over absolutely nothing. He was not.

...But, as Dan had to admit to himself, it wasn’t nothing. In fact, quite the opposite.

Phil meant everything to him, and if he was going to shed a few tears because he couldn’t fully comprehend why Phil had chosen him all those years ago, then so be it.

Dan buried his nose in Phil’s chest and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent and drifting almost immediately to sleep.

In the morning, they would wake up feeling completed, in a way that only people who had fallen asleep to bellies full of hot chocolate and the gentle sound of snow pattering against the trees outside could. They would get up and make coffee, and move on with their day, but for now, everything was still. Everything was silent, and calm, and cozy.

It was snowing. It was freezing cold outside and Dan and Phil were curled up together on a sofa meant for two, surrounded by house plants and knick-knacks and various other trinkets they had managed to collect after all their years of living together.

It was mid-December, and the heating was on in the flat.

It was snowing.

#my writing #phanfic #phanfiction #ava writes #fanfiction #phan #daniel howell #amazingphil #dan #phil #dan howell #danisnotonfire #phil lester #philip lester #dan and phil #dan and phil fanfiction #writing #writeblr

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likethetailofacomet · 6 years ago

Text

On Location

A/ N: So. this is a thing that happened. I...I don’t really even know. Well, that’s not true. I do know. It happened like this. Yesterday I posted a list of ten words that had to do with my most recent WIP and @ooo-barff-ooo Chaos Queen that she is, decided to take all ten words and come up with scenarios about each one. OBVIOUSLY I have to do at least 5 of them now. This was one. And then it snowballed. Literally? It did snow today so... ?

Pairing: Seth x Emma, Emma x Ben (F R I E N D S) yeah I went there, ya’ll. I DO NOT KNOW.

Warning: Just hang in there. and some light Ns*w. and i think this might quench a few thirsts for things like crinkled eyes and scrunchy faces, so I’m counting it for Thirsty Thursday. YOU CAN’T STOP ME.

Word Count: 2813

OKAY I WARNED YOU.

New York City was in the middle of a deep freeze when Emma was fortunate enough to be there on location for her latest project. She was no stranger to cold, growing up in the mid-west, but the last few years of living in L.A. had warmed her blood enough to make her miss the temperate climate that she’d grown accustomed to, and she found herself shivering on set on more than one occasion, causing teasing laughter and good natured jokes from her co-star.

“Someone get Emma some cocoa, quick, before she turns into an ice pop!” Ben would laugh and crinkle his eyes in that way that made all his fans swoon but just made Emma swat at his arm with the back of her wrist.

“Can it, Barnes,” she’d say, “I can’t convincingly stalk and murder you if my fingers are shivering too much to hold the guns, can I?”

He’d laugh more and shake his head. “No, see, because you’re a West Coast softie, not a fortified Brit like myself,” he gestured proudly at himself but she could see the sarcasm in his eyes.

“Yeah, okay, enough of the tough guy routine. You’re not in character and you’re not fooling me, I saw you shivering earlier Mr. Fortified.” She rolled her eyes and he laughed again.

“Okay, yeah, you got me, its freezing.” He finally admitted through a smile, hugging his arms across his chest and rubbing his own biceps. I just like teasing you.” He’d returned her playful smack with a big-brotherly shove.

They had to cancel the shoot today, again, due to subzero wind chills, and she was grateful as the scheduled scenes all had outdoor settings, and while she was incredibly excited to be on this film, it wasn’t worth the frostbite. It was an action thriller- something new for her- and she was checking a major dream role off of her bucket list getting to play a villain. Hours in hair and makeup to get all the scars and burns right for the fight scenes, incredible costume changes from sequined ball gowns and masquerade masks to tall black leather boots equipped with gun holsters and even designer lingerie for the…adult scenes. It was her first big budget film, and she was loving every minute of it.

Emma got the text from the P.A. that they had another day off, and she sighed, snuggling back into the fluffy whiter -than- white hotel blankets. As much as she was enjoying her time in New York; enjoying working on a film that was stretching her resume and her abilities, enjoying working with an incredible director and incredible co-stars, enjoying the easy friendship she was forming with Ben and the other cast members, she missed Seth. She missed his arms around her and his warm breath on her neck and the laughter that he easily pulled from her on even the toughest, longest, and most draining of days. She missed his snores and the way he talks in his sleep. She missed his burnt French toast. She even missed his absence. At home they would sometimes be separated for work for weeks at a time, but at least she’d be surrounded by his things; his shoes, one on the she rack and one on the floor, his spare keys, “lost” in the kitchen junk drawer, his sweatshirt that had been thrown on the chair in the corner of the living room for five days. She just missed him. As if on cue, she received a text picture of his goofy grin, the lighting dim and his eyes just barely opened. It was 4:30 am in California and she was sure that he was closer to falling asleep than waking up, but he made sure to text her when he knew she’d be waking up. Good morning, Iowa. Give it Hell today xxx Good Lord do I love this man or what? She thought to herself as a goofy grin of her own appeared.

Mornin’ sunshine (or goodnight?) Not shooting today, too cold. Brr. Wish you were here, love you ooo She dropped the phone on the bed and headed to the shower to get her day started. No filming didn’t mean no work. She knew Seth would fall back asleep, or maybe just fall asleep in the first place- he’d been hitting the comedy club circuit again as a way to keep his material fresh in between projects, and that meant very, very, very late nights. When she got out of the shower and checked her phone, she was right- no more messages from Seth. She smiled, imagining him sleeping, wishing she was there raking her fingers through his dark blonde curls.

She made herself a cup of coffee and was just about to sit down to go over the script and the schedule for the rest of their time in New York, when her phone buzzed again. Guess he is awake, she thought, absently entering her passcode to open her phone. She expected another goofy photo, and she got one. But not from Seth.

She nearly spit her coffee onto those fluffy white blankets she loved so much as she opened the text. It was Ben, gritting his teeth against the cold, hat pulled so low all you could see were his eyes, and scarf wrapped so thickly his chin had disappeared into it. He was standing outside in ankle deep snow as if to prove a point. You win, Em, it’s cold. No shoot today, drinks and script review?

She quickly typed back a reply. Sure thing, how’s noon? Get inside! What are you doing you weirdo?! She shook her head and laughed, thinking about how she’d love to get Ben and Seth together because the goofiness would simply be off the charts. When noon rolled around Emma grabbed her script and checked her hair in the mirror on her way down to the lobby bar where they had decided to meet. She found him already at the bar, one long leg bent, his foot tapping against the footrest on the bar’s underside as he chatted amicably with the bartender who was clearly trying to pretend that she wasn’t completely starstruck by him. Emma caught him doing the eye crinkle thing again and though she hadn’t known him long, she knew him long enough to know that the eye crinkle thing was only a result of genuine smiles. Maybe he was a little struck by that bartender, too. Yes! Fuel for the teasing fire! She made her way over to the bar and pulled out the stool next to his. “Hey, Ben, I see you’ve warmed up.” She smiled as he passed her one of the two drinks that were in front of him. Whiskey, neat. Not her usual cup of tea, but then again Pinot Gris wasn’t the most bracing of beverages for the wintertime. “Thanks,” she knocked her elbow into his and they clinked their glasses together each taking a sip.

“Oh my god, it’s you! Emma Nailor! You’re like, my favorite actress, like, oh my god!” the bartender’s jaw dropped as she looked from Ben to Emma. “Tender Nothings is seriously my favorite movie! Oh man, are you two working together on something?” she looked from Emma to Ben expectantly.

Ben chuckled. “Yeah. Sweet innocent Emma here is playing the bad guy and she’s been kicking my butt all over the city.” He took a swig of his drink and narrowed his dark brown eyes over the rim of his glass.

“Bad. Ass.” The bartender gave Emma an approving look. “Hey, I know this is so super lame of me, but can I have a picture with you guys?”

“Not lame at all, here, give me your phone.” Ben took her phone and stretched his arm out in front of him to take a selfie style picture with Emma and the bartender. The young girl smiled brightly with her lips and teeth and cheeks and eyes, a look of joyful disbelief on her face. Emma leaned in and gave a relaxed, effortless smile. But Ben went and did what Ben does- he pulled a goofy face right when he pressed the button and Emma burst out laughing when she saw it.

“Send that to me,” she snorted as he handed the bartender her phone back and she proceeded to pour them another round on the house. He sent her the photo and she forwarded it to Seth. Hard day’s work over here, lemme tell ya! ooo

The bartender, whose name they learned was Lexi, had left them to their work, glancing over every now and then, still in disbelief over meeting two of her favorite movie stars. After an hour or so of running lines and trying different approaches and bouncing ideas off of one another, Emma's phone buzzed against the bar top. “Do you need to get that?” He asked her, motioning to the phone with his glass before bringing it to his lips to finish it off.

“Yeah, let me just,” she grabbed her phone and opened it, a smile already on her face, fully aware of what she'd done. Her smile grew into a full on grin and then a laugh as she opened his text. EMMA ALEXANDRIA NAILOR SOON-TO-BE-LEVINE! IS THAT? ARE YOU? REALLY? I mean I know you're co-starring but like are you friends now because that's like...i mean...oh boy is this? Yup. I'm jealous. Of you, not him. Sorry, love you. *little guy shrug emoji* She closed her eyes and let out a genuine guffaw, slapping her knee and setting her phone down momentarily.

Ben nearly choked on the whiskey that was still in his throat at her reaction to whatever text she'd just received. He placed his empty glass on the bar and coughed, lips scrunched to the left, that cheek lifted up into his eye. “Okay, what's so funny?” he asked, leaning his elbow on the bar.

Emma downed the last of her drink. “Well, I told you my fiance is a comedian, right?”

“Yeah, Seth...” he snapped his fingers and squinted trying to recall Seth's last name. “Seth Levine!” his eyes brightened as he smacked the bar. “Yeah. Seth. I googled him, saw his sets. He's really funny. And he writes screenplays, too, doesn't he?”

Emma nodded, smirking. “Yeah that's the guy. Well, turns out, he's a big fan of yours and he's jealous.”

Ben immediately sat back, putting lots of space between them and holding his hands out in front of him, fingers splayed like he was under arrest. Emma burst into laughter again, reaching towards him and tapping him lightly on the knee. “Relax, Barnes,” she shook her head. “He's jealous of me not you. He's just a big fan. Everyone gets star struck by someone, you know? You two would actually get along really well.” She pointed at him almost accusingly. He ordered them one more round as she responded to Seth's text and the snow began to slow to a stop outside the window. Sure is, Levine. Jealous, huh? Maybe I should be jealous? *pouty face emoji*

She hadn't put the phone down before it was buzzing again. Nope. No need. BE RIGHT THERE. She laughed and sent him a video of her blowing him a kiss...with Ben photo-bombing her in the background, of course. The two of them finished their drinks and he walked her back to her room, thanking her for killing time and running lines and hanging out. It was fun, and easy, being friends, and she was thankful yet again for getting to work on this project. She headed inside and sank into the bed, flicking the television on. It was 4pm and there was nothing to do and it was too cold to go out and she missed Seth. She missed his hands on her skin and his lips on her mouth and his chest pressed to hers. She was a little...no let's face it, Emma, she was buzzed. And horny. And she missed Seth. She fell asleep dreaming of him. Of his teeth grazing her inner thighs, of his tongue tracing along her core, of his fingers gripping her ass. She dreamed of his body and his heat and the way he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world, like she was Iowa, not Emma Nailor, like she was his.

She woke up to a loud knock on the door, shocked that she'd fallen asleep in the first place. The clock read 8:45pm. Wonderful sleeping habits I've got. She stood from the bed and the room spun just a bit as her eyes widened and she caught her balance on the bedside table. Woah. Drinking with Ben is a doozy. Duly noted. She righted herself and blinked a few times as the knocking on the door turned to a familiar pattern. “Seth?” she muttered out loud as the pattern repeated and she jumped, her bare feet springing from the carpeted floor in pure, unadulterated excitement. “Seth!” she ran to the door, her smile growing into her eyes as she ripped it open and there he was. He grabbed her around the waist with one arm, closing the door with the other, and fused his lips to hers. He walked her back into the room as she gave in to the kiss, sighing against his lips and feeling light bursting from her chest. His tongue delved into her mouth as his fingers gripped her side, and she responded, finally, grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand and pressing the other flat against his broad back. When they parted they were both panting and grinning and laughing.

“Hey, Iowa,” he whispered, eyes twinkling as he laid another quick kiss to her lips.

“Hey yourself, Seth,” she said, kissing him back. “I missed you. I missed you so much! I can't believe you got on a plane just like that! And in this weather!”

He chuckled. “Well,” he kissed her deeply again, drawing another sigh. “I had to show you that you had nothing to be jealous about.” He scooped her up and threw her onto the bed.

“I like where this is headed,” she smiled at him and he smiled back at her knowingly, thanking his lucky stars for giving him this incredible, wonderful, fun-loving, smart, sexy, funny, compassionate, genuine woman to love.

Twenty minutes later, the fort was built, using all the available pillows, sheets and blankets. They'd even used a few of the hand towels. They had both secretly always wanted to build a giant pillow fort in a hotel room-those big white fluffy blankets are just begging for it, Iowa- I know, right?. And now seemed the best time- it was cold outside, they had missed one another, and they'd had an afternoon of laughs. They crawled in the tent and left their clothes behind them, warming one another with their breaths and their bodies and their love.

Seth fell asleep first, his head resting in the crook of her shoulder against her chest. They'd cleaned up and she'd put his shirt on before they crawled back in the tent to hold one another and catch up on the little things they'd missed. She scrolled though pictures on her phone showing him behind the scenes photos of her and the cast and crew; he'd filled her in on details from the last few comedy shows. Before long the travel had caught up to him and he gently dozed off, Emma left looking at the man she had promised her life to and wondering how she'd gotten so lucky. Her phone dinged an incoming FaceTime call and she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing as she answered Ben's call.

“Shh,” she greeted him with her finger pressed to pursed lips that were just dying to smile. She panned the phone down to show Seth asleep and snoring on her shoulder. “Don't wake him up!” she half whispered, half laughed.

He squinted his eyes and covered his own mouth when he realized he was looking at two full grown adults- one of them asleep- in a pillow fort in one of Manhattan's nicer hotels. “Are we in a pillow fort right now?” he asked quietly on the verge of a laughter meltdown.

Emma nodded. “We are.”

Ben shook his head. “Wonderful. Well, I won't keep you. Just wanted to say thanks again for today. I had fun. But looks like fun follows you around, huh?”

Emma looked from the warm smiling face of her new friend to the sweet sleeping face of the man she loved. “Yeah, guess it does. G'night, Ben.”

He smiled, hoping he'd find his own pillow-fort-girl someday. “G'night, Em.”

tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @zaffrenotes @sleepwalkingelite @brightpinkpeppercorn I LITERALLY DO NOT KNOW OF A SINGLE OTHER PERSON WHO WOULD CARE L.O.L. but like, now Ben and Emma are friends so I guess he’s a regular?

#why?#seth x mc #seth x emma #seth levine #emma nailor #rcd #ben barnes #emma and ben are besties #pillow fort #all this from the word cold #this is all your doing tru #choices fanfiction #crack fic #thirsty thusrday?#if you're thirsty for eye crinkles that is

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