#2. how did the owner know to block ao3?????????

[slytherhys]

Beautiful Boy

AO3

Prompt: Nyx's first birthday party.

A/N: I tried to write some feysandnyx x ic fluff but I'm not sure I like this

Early spring in Velaris was a sight to see. The days were still cold, the nights colder still, but the sun already shone bright in the sky, clearly lifting the spirits of the people. The entire city was still cleaning up after Starfall a few days earlier, but flowers already bloomed in front of the shops and marble and red stone townhouses, the Sira river already returning to its deep sapphire sparkle as it flowed through the city. People greeted Feyre as she crossed the bridge from the Rainbow to her house, where the party had already begun.

The great manor greeted her as she reached the end of the bridge, the marble façade covered in beautiful, lush ivy as well as a few different blossoming flowers that covered her front garden – all Elain’s doing, of course. Opening the front door, Feyre was immediately greeted by the warmth of her home as well as the accompanying sound of laughter and chatter coming from the sitting room. Her friends were already there, sitting and standing around the fireplace as soft music played in the background, but the laughter of her baby boy was the only thing she could focus on.

Nyx was in Cassian’s lap, being repeatedly thrown in the air. His little wings would flex for 2 seconds before he fell again into the awaiting hands of his uncle, who watched him with a proud glint in his eyes. Nesta was smiling as she watched them both, scolding Cassian whenever Nyx reached too high. Azriel stood by the wooden table as he watched Elain sort all the presents, a soft smile on his lips as she got more and more flustered at the ridiculous amount of gifts Nyx had received for his first birthday. Feyre felt her heart warm at the sight of her family.

“There you are,” she heard him before she felt his arms wrap around her waist. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Feyre turned swiftly, her hands immediately cupping Rhys’ face as she rose to her toes and kissed him softly. Twice, just because.

Rhys grinned. “Did you get it?” She nodded and held up the paper bag in her hand, unable to keep her own grin out of her face.

They had gone to the Rainbow a few weeks earlier to a small shop just a few blocks away from Feyre’s painting studio to buy Nyx a custom gift. Ressina had been the one to speak about it, having known the owner, and knowing Nyx was about to turn one. They had already bought a series of presents for their boy, but this one just felt…right.

Feyre groaned, dropping her head against Rhys’ chest. “We’re going to spoil him rotten.”

Rhys chuckled. “It’s nothing he doesn’t deserve.” He said, turning Feyre around so she could see how Nyx now crawled around the floor, still too scared to stand for long periods of time. Feyre pulled away, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. She was feeling entirely too emotional. Today was for happiness and celebration, no one needed her crying over gifts and cake.

Rhys pulled her in again, kissing her softly. “We’re okay.” He said gently, a promise between the two. Feyre nodded once, finding comfort in his presence. A day didn’t go by that Rhys didn’t promise her the exact same thing. She couldn’t be more grateful for it.

She gently settled the paper bag at a little side table, saving Elain from yet another colourful package to sort. Az was trying to coax her away from the mess, since there was really no need to do such a thing, but Elain kept glaring at him whenever he grabbed her hand. Feyre pressed her lips together to fight a laugh– there was something amusing about the shadowsinger bending to another’s will.

“Thank you for coming.” Feyre said as she reached the back of the couch, pulling both Cassian and Nesta for a hug.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Nesta replied softly, her eyes on Nyx as she squeezed Feyre’s hand once before letting it go. Feyre felt her lip turn up at the small display of affection. They still had a long way to go but having Nesta by her side as she raised Nyx was a gift she would forever appreciate. Having both her sisters after everything that happened last year gave Feyre a sense of comfort, one she didn’t even realize she had been missing all her life.

Rhys swept Nyx to his arms, taking him to the overflowing table as he kicked out Elain and Azriel back to the couch.

Cassian watched Nyx over the table, his little arms flapping around as he tried to reach for his presents. “I can’t believe the amount of shit people sent.” He snorted, yelping when Nesta slapped his hand, chiding him for his foul mouth. He looked chagrined before his face turned into something else. Feyre quickly looked away.

“He doesn’t need all this stuff, it’s ridiculous.” Feyre sighed, sitting on the armchair by the fireplace.

“It’s a good sign, love.” Rhys said as he made his way back towards her, sitting on the arm of the chair. “Helion, it appears, has sent at least 4 different gifts. Tarquin and Kallias also seemed to spare no expenses. I’d say our little man is quite popular.” He said, blowing a raspberry on Nyx’ cheek, making him chuckle loudly, squirming away from his dad. His chubby little arms reached for Feyre instead, who didn’t even hesitate before grabbing him. Rhys had a look of feigned outrage on his face, muttering a small traitor before he leaned back, his face pure adoration as he watched them both.

“Well, at least you guys didn’t get him anything.” Feyre sighed, her hands holding Nyx as he played with her necklace. However, when her statement was only met with silence, she looked. Why wasn’t anyone agreeing with her? “You didn’t get him anything.” She was a bit alarmed now. “Right?”

They had agreed there would be no gifts for Nyx. Rhys and Feyre had only wanted a small celebration between their family with dinner and cake, maybe a few drinks after Nyx had fallen asleep. Small, yet meaningful.

But as everyone in that room avoided her gaze, she knew they had all ignored her request. Big time. “Cass?” She called, making the male flinch. He reluctantly looked over at her and Rhys who, much to Feyre’s annoyance, was watching the entire interaction with entirely too much amusement.

“I wasn’t going to get him anything, I swear. But then I just saw the perfect gift and I couldn’t help myself. And then-”

“He got him a onesie that says uncle’s nº1 babybat.” Nesta deadpanned, her face neutral even if she was trying to fight a smile. Cassian frowned at her. “And a baby winger, whatever that is.” She added, a smirk on her lips.

“Wait, you got him the baby winger set?” Azriel’s low voice interrupted Cassian’s mumbles. “I told you I was buying him that.” Az crossed his arms, looking as intimidating as he intended. Elain simply rolled her eyes as she reached for a glass of wine.

“It’s fine, we also bought that-” She started, stopping when her eyes found Feyre’s with an apologist smile.

“Elain.” Azriel snapped. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“For whom?” Nesta raised an eyebrow, nodding her head towards Nyx who was now drooling all over Feyre’s necklace. Feyre gently removed it from his mouth, reaching for the bat plushie Mor had offered him last year so he could play with that instead.

“Wait a minute,” Rhys said, a furrow to his brow. “Why are you guys offering my son a baby winger?” Cassian fully grinned while Azriel had the decency to look a bit sheepish. Feyre wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, but Rhys didn’t seem fond of the idea.

“By the Cauldron.” Feyre muttered. “What is a baby winger?” She asked the three Illyrian babies fighting over presents. They all looked at her like she was insane. Was she missing something? Elain was fighting a smirk, but Nesta seemed as lost as she was.

“It’s only the best thing you can have to teach your son how to fly.” Cassian leaned forward, an excited gleam in his eyes. He looked like a kid on Solstice. “This one even comes with a security system so that he gets to ground safely.”

“You’re not teaching my son how to fly, Cassian.” Rhys rumbled, before looking at Azriel with a raised brow. “And neither are you.”

Both men started complaining as soon as the words were out of her mate’s mouth, Nyx becoming immediately enthralled by their loud voices going back and forth. She was just about to scold them when both Cass and Az went still at the exact same time. Feyre looked at Rhys, knowing he was telling them something through their minds – something that made both warriors pause, blushing furiously. Cassian started coughing, muttering something about water under his breath before leaving the room to the kitchen. Feyre raised an eyebrow at her mate, who was already smiling devilishly at her. She’d have to ask about that later.

“Where’s Mor?” Elain asked. “Isn’t she coming?”

Rhys frowned. “I think-”

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Mor’s soft voice sounded through the sitting room followed by the sound of the entrance door being closed. She appeared as swiftly as one could be, as if summoned by Elain. Wearing a long jacket over her usual casual attire and…carrying a giant bat plushie with a purple bow on its neck.

Feyre could only stare at her best friend, her mouth hanging open. Rhys was already rubbing his eyes and groaning about headaches. Nyx, however, seemed delighted by Mor’s gift.

“I said no gifts.” Feyre groaned, throwing her head back as she watched Mor set her gigantic gift on the floor before stealing Nyx from her arms. She couldn’t exactly say it bothered her how loved her son was among his family, but this was too much. It had to be too much. Right?

She wanted to give him everything she never had growing up, but she didn’t want to overcompensate. She knew Rhys would be careful too, even if he had to be reminded to pace himself. Frequently.

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the waist, sitting under her with such ease she didn’t even notice until she was already sitting on his lap, his lips pressing against her temple.

It’s his first birthday, love. Rhys’ soft timbre sounded inside her mind, startling her slightly. He held out his hand and Feyre happily intertwined her fingers with his. Let him be loved by his family.

He won’t even care for most of these things, Feyre said, watching as Nyx threw himself towards Mor’s gift, bouncing back and giggling as he fell on his butt.

And when the time comes, we’ll teach him to care for all things. Rhys pressed his lips against her hand. You’re his mom, Feyre. There’s not a single thing in this world that could make him anything other than kind and caring.

Feyre looked back at him; her vision blurry as she looked at the man she loved. It wasn’t a secret Rhys adored her, but most days he still couldn’t fully understand the type of man that he was. The amazing, loving father he was to Nyx. “There’s no doubt in my mind, Rhys, that he will be gentle and selfless. He’s half of the man who saved me and loved me on my darkest days. How could he be anything less?” She spoke softly, for these were words he needed to hear – the man who had given himself to protect the people he loved; the man who had saved her, over and over again and had wanted nothing in return. No, she didn’t need to be worried, not when Nyx was surrounded by the incredible people she had the pleasure to call family.

He was going to be okay.

“You think this is a bad time to tell them we also got him a toy dagger?” Cassian asked Azriel.

…

Their bedroom was glowing with the light of the night sky, glowing stars held by magic as they swirled softly around the room. Every once in a while, the shape of a little boy would fly by, followed by his parents as their twirled with the stars. It was like living inside a dream, one where things were simple and calm and only love mattered.

It had been a good gift, Feyre concluded once she saw how Nyx’s eyes followed the boy with wonder and curiosity.

Rhysand was sprawled on their bed, his hair longer and curlier than usual, a lazy smile on his lips as he read a book to Nyx – a tale about Nephelle, gifted to him by Elain and Azriel. The baby eyed both his dad and the stars surrounding him with adoring amazement, fighting hard not fall fast asleep.

Feyre felt herself settle, a smile on her lips as she watched the men of her life read a tiny book. Had it really been a year since her baby boy had been born? She simply couldn’t wrap her head around it. How they had gone from frantic nights and painful recoveries to gentle smiles and peaceful living. Just a year ago everything seemed so fragile, and now Nyx was starting to flex his wings, walking all around the house as he tried to follow his dad around, his little legs clumsy even when Rhys slowed down his pace.

Time had gone by too fast.

Everyone had left moments ago, just a few hours after dinner. They were all chatting over drinks when the baby monitor came alive, and Nyx’s cries filled the living room. Everyone had taken that as their sign to retreat back to their own homes, leaving with tipsy smiles and happy memories. Feyre had been retreating every single toy to Nyx’s room while Rhys tried to put the baby back to sleep – to no avail, apparently.

Rhys looked up, smiling as he spotted Feyre making her way to bed. “Did you enjoy the day, love?” Rhys asked in a soft voice, his large hand holding Nyx close to his chest as the baby sucked on his pacified, his little head resting against his dad’s chest. Feyre kissed his soft cheek, making him smile as he fought to keep his eyes open. She lied on her side, settling against Rhys as she played with Nyx’s dark hair. She couldn’t help but smile at the picture they painted – both sleepy, a lazy smile on their lips as they stared at her. She would paint it tomorrow and hang it someplace where she could see it every day for the rest of her life.

“He’s okay.” Feyre whispered, watching as Nyx finally succumbed to sleep. Understanding flashed through Rhys’ face. He smiled at her, his hand softly stroking Nyx’s back.

“He’s okay.” His voice was soft. “We’re all okay, love.”

[tootiredmotel]

a different lover is not a sin

or: 5 times Dean didn't go to Pride + 1 time he did

Happy @starrynightdeancas gift exchange posting day!!! This one's for the wonderful and talented @andzia267 !!! Sending you all the hugs and good vibes, and I hope you enjoy it! And thank you Sophie for hosting all this, you're a rock star! <3

Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words

CW: homophobia, queer used as a slur, john winchester being an asshole

1 - 1994

Dean was fifteen years old when he found out that being gay was something people could be proud of. It was early in the morning, they'd left their motel about 20 minutes before, and Sammy had fallen asleep in the backseat. The sun was just starting to completely show over the horizon, and they were driving through– or rather, struggling to get out of– Phoenix on their way to a possible poltergeist in Tucson. Every street they tried to take was blocked for the big event, and dozens of people already lined the sidewalks with colorful outfits and signs.

"Fuckin' queers," John grumbled in the seat next to him. "Never should'a thrown that damn brick."

Big banners overhead displayed "Stonewall 25: A Global Celebration of Pride". Dean made a mental note to hit up a library once they got to Tucson to look that up, "Stonewall". In the meantime, he was mesmerized staring out the window. Guys held hands, women kissed, everyone was practically vibrating with excitement. A black man in heels and a wig caught his gaze through the window and waved. Dean started to wave back, but his hand was harshly swatted back down.

"Do not," John said. "Don’t talk to them, don’t even look at ‘em. These people are sick in the head."

Dean focused his gaze on his lap until they were out of the city, and his mind wandered back to the gas station they stopped at the day before. He thought of the guy at the cash register that called him "cutie" and winked at him as he bought a candy bar for Sammy and beers for Dad with his fake ID. By Dad’s logic– which Dean trusted, of course–, that cashier, that queer, must've been sick in the head.

Then Dean remembered how his heart sped up, how his ears got hot, and how for a second he let himself think the cashier was kinda cute too. He realized he must also be sick in the head, and the thought was making him feel actually, physically sick. He felt like throwing up. Dad could never know.

Dean was fifteen years old when he learned that being gay actually wasn't something to be proud of.

---

2 - 2000

Dean was 21 years old when he learned the word “bisexual”. Dad had caught word of a ghoul case in lower Manhattan and sent Dean to take care of it. It was starting to get too hot and the streets were too crowded, but Dean was mostly glad to get a break from the constant fighting between Dad and Sammy.

Except it was June, and every time he turned a corner, there they were. The Pride parade flyers.

The second he spotted a rainbow he averted his gaze. He turned another corner and spotted another one. He avoided reading them at all costs. He heard Dad’s voice. Sick. Sick in the head.

For years now Dean had pretended he wasn’t sick. He pretended to not stare at Patrick Swayze too much whenever Dirty Dancing played on TV. He pretended like he didn't imagine what it would be like to kiss a guy, what stubble would feel like against his lips if he ever did.

He liked women. He could stick to women. He could live his whole life like that. And that meant he wasn’t totally sick, right? He wasn’t gay -gay if he liked girls.

But then what the hell was he? Would he even belong at one of these Pride things if he wanted to? He was probably a freak of nature. Even sicker than the rest of the bunch.

Curiosity got the best of him. He spared a glance at one of the flyers as he waited to cross the street.

Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME

“Are you gonna go?” A voice next to him asked. ”It’s next weekend.” He was blond, pale, and a bit shorter than Dean.

“What? No! I don't swing that way,” Dean said, a bit too quickly and with too much bite.

The guy looked him up and down with a frown. “Geez, alright. Just askin’.”

He started to walk away, and Dean spoke up before he could stop himself.

“Hey man, wait.”

The guy stopped walking.

“Sorry, can I ask you something? Assuming you... know about this stuff?”

He seemed exasperated, but he turned anyway, willing to hear Dean out. Dean licked his lips, rubbed at the back of his neck, swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, asking a stranger on the street about something so personal. At least the chances of meeting this person ever again were close to none.

“What’s bisexual?”

The guy’s features softened a bit. He seemed to understand something about Dean that so far Dean refused to acknowledge.

“It means you’re into more than one gender. And yes, you can do that,” the guy said. He flashed Dean a tight smile and then disappeared into the crowd.

Dean felt his hands go numb and balled them into fists, shoving them in his pockets. He took a deep breath through his nose. The guy said you. You are. You can.

The guy didn’t know what he was talking about. He knew nothing about Dean. He was wrong.

Or maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t be.

Dean couldn’t be… that.

Dean was 21 years old when he decided he wasn’t bisexual. He wasn’t anything. He was also 21 when he solved a case in record time (two days), just so he could book it out of New York before the next weekend arrived.

---

3 - 2004

By the time he was 25 years old, Dean knew he was bi. He hated it, he never spoke about it, and he ignored it as much as he could, but he was aware of it. And he knew he was bi because, at 25 years old, he’d already gone through two serious breakups, and they both equally sucked.

The first was Lee. He hunted with Dean and John for about a year, the second half of which Dean and Lee spent sneaking around and hooking up behind John’s back. It was fun, and hot, and exciting, and some of the best hookups he’d had up until that point in his life were with Lee.

But the thing is that it wasn’t just hooking up. They were close, and Dean liked him. A lot. They kissed for the first time after a particularly scary werewolf hunt in which Dean almost died, but John was more preoccupied with the mostly-unharmed victim than his own son. Dean and Lee rode in the backseat, bruised, bloody, and quiet. When John went to walk the victim up to her apartment, Lee reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s back, asking him if he was okay. Dean fell into Lee’s arms, and they kissed as they pulled away from the embrace, soft and comforting. It was Dean’s first kiss with a guy.

Lee was a lot of firsts for Dean over the next few months. But then John almost caught them once, drunk and making out in the Impala.

And then that case in Arizona went wrong, and Lee just couldn’t take it anymore. He packed up, swore off hunting, hugged Dean goodbye, and left him in the dust.

Dean needed to clear his head after that. He could barely look his dad in the eye after that close call, couldn't let him see the sorrow he was feeling. With every interaction, he imagined how John would yell at him, probably try to beat it out of him, if he noticed all he was feeling over Lee. Or worse, John could ignore him, practically disown him like he did Sam.

So he also packed up and left. Went hunting on his own for a while.

It was on one of those hunts that he met Cassie, and she was yet another handful of firsts for Dean over the course of a few months. She was amazing, and he fell hard and fast, but of course that went up in flames too.

Then again, he should've known better than to be honest. Honesty only ever got him in trouble.

He’d just left her back in Ohio and was working at a bar in Indianapolis for a few weeks to make some cash. He’d eventually meet back up with Dad. He just couldn’t right now. Not with Sam gone to college. Not after getting his heart broken twice over within a year.

He was hyper-aware of the end of June approaching. He knew it was coming, Indy had a pretty big celebration, and he made sure to be working all day that day so he wouldn't have to face it.

That was pointless, though. Toward the end of the day, a big group of about ten or twelve people who were clearly coming from the parade stumbled into the bar. One of them was apparently the owner’s little sister and they went there every year after the celebrations. They were loud, and obnoxious, and looked incredibly happy. Their happiness was contagious, and Dean loved serving them. He chatted them up, got to know them a bit, and heard all about the parade, all while staring down anyone at the bar who dared look their way with even the slightest stink eye.

But watching them that happy and comfortable, seeing not one, but two pairs of guys sloppily leaning against each other and sharing the occasional kiss while none of their friends seemed to bat an eye… something in Dean ached. Deeply.

Dean was 25 years old when he realized that a small part of him kind of, sort of, wanted to be part of this community. He couldn’t though. Not if he wanted to be on good terms with Dad. Not if he aimed to be the man Dad wanted him to be.

He left Indianapolis the next day.

---

4 - 2008

Dean was 29 years old and on his own personal highway to hell when he learned his brother went to a Pride parade before he ever did. They were driving through San José, the streets were lined with ads for Silicon Valley Pride, and Sam just casually decided to mention how fun it was the last time he went.

Thankfully they were at a red light, or else Dean probably would’ve slammed the breaks. He twisted to look at Sam head-on, his arm on the back of the seat.

“You what ?” he gawked.

Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”

“You went to one of these Pride things?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Dean’s brain was just trying and failing to load. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Jessica was in the GSA and some friends invited us. It was awesome.”

“She was in the what?”

“The G. S. A.,” Sam answered slowly. “Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“Oh.” Whatever that is, Dean thought. He kept eyeing the flyers. It was tomorrow.

“Green.”

“What?”

“Light’s green. Green means go.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

He kept driving and turned up the radio. Somebody To Love was playing, and as much as he liked Queen, he had to change the station. He tried to picture his little brother (his straight little brother) wearing rainbow face paint and having the time of his life at this thing. How come Sammy got to go when Dean could barely entertain the idea? Dean was the not-straight one. It wasn’t fair.

He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”

Dean was 29 years old when he died and went to hell without ever having gone to a Pride parade, knowing that his idiot ( straight! ) little brother already had.

---

5 - 2014

Dean was alive again and 35 years old (75, if you count hell) when he was formally invited to a Pride parade for the first time. It was a couple of days after that whole mess with Cas in Lucifer’s crypt, and he called Charlie. He just wanted to hear her voice, needed to know he was still on good terms with at least one of his best friends.

“So anyway,” Charlie said after a while of recounting what she’d been up to. "How single are you right now? My answer is: miserably."

Dean chuckled. Then he thought of Cas, and the smile disappeared. "Yeah, you and me both, sister."

“Would you mind coming with me to this thing next month? Going alone kinda sucks.”

Dean put the phone on speaker and placed it on the library table as he sat down with a beer. “What’s the thing?”

“Pride.”

Dean was glad no one was around to see him almost choke on his drink.

“You good?”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“Pride parade. Don’t have anyone to go with this year.”

“Why uh… Why? Why me?”

She knows.

“I dunno.”

She knows she knows she knows.

“You’re my friend, Dean. Thought maybe you might be interested. But never mind, I guess.”

And while all the alarms in Dean's head were blaring danger danger danger abort, he also hated to hear Charlie so disappointed.

“Hey, no, listen, Charlie, I… I would. Really. You know I support you, wholeheartedly." And that's obviously the only reason I would want to go. "But with Sam doing these trials, and Cas on the run with the angel tablet–”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah.”

And she hung up.

Dean knew, at this point, that there was nothing wrong with being queer. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it sure as hell didn’t mean you were wrong in the head or whatever.

But years of pretending to be a false version of yourself in an effort to please a man who was impossible to please wasn’t exactly an easy habit to break. As much as he wished it didn't, as much as he wished he could just exist, the thought of anyone finding out still made him sick to the stomach.

John’s voice still echoed in his ears. His words still drove Dean’s sense of self-worth and so many of his decisions. He tried to never stare at a good-looking guy for too long. He tried to not get too into it with Benny. He tried to keep his feelings for Cas at bay, tried to keep him at arm's length, tried to keep the fact that he was in love (deeply, stupidly in love) as close to his chest as he could.

Even that night at the crypt choking out the words to get through to Cas, he couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant. I love you, he’d wanted to say, because it was the truth. What came out, however, was I need you. And he did, he needed Cas more than air, but it wasn't quite everything.

It still got his heart split in two.

Was he so far gone over Cas that he couldn’t hide it? Had he been trying so hard and failing just as miserably this whole time? Was his attraction to dudes that obvious? Or did Charlie just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing?

It was probably the last one. He hoped it was.

Cas knew, for sure. Angels knew everything right? They could read minds, feel longing, or whatever. And if none of that ever tipped him off, well, Dean put it all on the line back in that crypt. He told Cas how he felt, told him he needed him, tried putting himself out there, and it got him left. Again. With Dean, it was always leave-or-get-left when it came to love. He was tired of it.

Dean was 35 years old, desperately in love with his best friend, and truly heartbroken for the third time in his life, when his other best friend– an out and proud lesbian– gave him a chance to go to Pride, to break through his shell, to finally embrace himself as he was; but because he was practically living in the closet, he couldn’t seem to find the handle after so many years of purposefully ignoring its existence, and he missed his chance. Besides, what was the point of going to a celebration of love without the love of his life by his side?

---

+1 - 2021

Dean is now 42 years old and the happiest he’s ever been. The love of his life? Cas? Turns out he’s felt the same way all along. They're kind of together now, and slowly but surely they’re working through a decade’s worth of shit.

They’ve been raising a kid together too, along with Sam and Eileen, and that kid is also God. After saving the world and whatnot, Jack decided to bring back some of their friends and family that died over the years: Mary, Kevin, Charlie. Yes, there are two Charlies now, but it’s not as confusing as you’d expect. (One is from another dimension, and the other one is Dean’s little sister. Simple.) Mary’s off hunting most of the time and Kevin’s applying to college.

They’ve got extended family now too, Jody and the girls. OG Charlie is staying with them for now, while she finds her footing. Most of that household is queer. Most of Dean's household is queer as well, actually. Turns out both Jack and Eileen are non-binary, Cas is gay in the broader sense of the word, and Dean…

Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.

Apparently, a lot of people had known for a long time. Sam has known since the siren back in ‘09 (even though Dean stands by the fact that it wasn’t like that, Sammy ), and everyone has slowly picked up on his and Cas’s thing over the years, so there’s that.

He still feels a bit weird about it. About calling Cas his boyfriend, about having the freedom to hold his hand in public, about the fact that they now have goddamn pride flags hung around the bunker. He feels even weirder about the fact that John’s voice in his head is now drowned out by the sounds of his home life, more lively and supportive than he ever expected to have.

He wasn’t expecting any of this, he didn’t think everything would change so fast. But when you spend the better part of your life pushing down such a huge part of you and then finally give yourself an out, a chance to show the people who love you who you really are, everything just... follows.

Love follows. Acceptance follows. Family follows. And he wasn’t really expecting any of it.

He certainly doesn’t expect it when Cas walks into the library after his weekly Thursday evening call with Claire and announces, matter-of-factly and with air quotes, “We’re going to "Pride" this weekend.”

Dean’s stomach drops. It’s the Sioux Falls Pride Parade and Festival, it’s in two days, and they’re leaving tomorrow to spend the night at Jody’s so they can all be there bright and early Saturday morning. Everyone immediately starts bustling about, packing and planning outfits and gathering flags to bring with them.

Dean just goes to his room– his and Cas���s now– to pack a small duffle.

Well, he means to. Instead, he takes out the duffle from the closet, puts it on the bed, and sits next to it for a while. An hour goes by. He thinks back to all those times he had brushes with one of these things and was just never in the right mindset. He’s not even sure he’s in the right mindset now, but he’s going. It’s happening.

“Jack’s all ready to go,” Cas says when he walks in. “We spent about half an hour putting together an outfit for Saturday. He wanted it to be as colorful as possible.”

Dean smiles, but it’s not all there. He looks at the empty duffle next to him.

“Yeah, I might need some help with that myself.”

Cas is in sweats and a hoodie. Yes it’s June, yes it’s hot, but he’s a quasi-angel, and the way he experiences the world Dean will never be able to wrap his head around. He walks over and stands in front of Dean, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face until he’s cupping Dean’s jaw. Dean takes Cas’s hand and leaves a few kisses on the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes as he does.

Cas regards the empty bag and hums quietly, as if in thought, before walking over to their closet. Dean chases his hand, holding onto it until he’s completely out of reach. Cas starts searching, and Dean’s stomach knots more and more with each clang of the hangers. Cas finally pulls out a flannel from its hanger– purple with hints of blue and pink– and tosses it over. Dean can’t believe he didn’t think of it first.

They continue to pack in comfortable silence before changing and getting into bed. Dean doesn’t flop onto his stomach or cuddle into Cas’s side as he usually does; instead, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice snaps him out of it.

Dean turns his head and asks, automatically, “You okay?”

It’s a habit by now, asking each other that question. It’s part of the working-through-a-decade’s-worth-of-shit thing they’re doing. Turns out they share a whole lot of trauma. They share worries and insecurities. They share nightmares sometimes, mostly about the Empty.

“I’m okay,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s heart for him to hold, and Dean can breathe a little easier.

“You nervous about this thing?” Dean asks, interlocking their fingers.

“The parade? No, not really.”

And then, because he's been working on communicating how he's feeling out loud or whatever, Dean looks back up at the ceiling and says, "I am. Kinda."

He feels Cas shifting and propping himself up on his elbow, and then he's in Dean's line of sight. Dean's gaze is drawn to him, like all of him has been since the moment they met, and Dean can't believe he just has this now. He has a boyfriend, and it's Cas, and he's looking down at Dean with stars in his eyes and a comforting smile that actually works because it's Cas.

And then Cas is leaning down and softly pressing their lips together, and that's also something Dean can’t believe he gets to do: kiss Cas good morning and good night and at any moment in between, kiss him I'm sorry, kiss him we're going to be okay, kiss him I love you.

"I love you too, Dean," Cas says once they've pulled away, and Dean didn't even realize he'd said it out loud, but it doesn't matter. "And you don't need to be nervous. I'll be there with you."

The thought should be a thousand times more nerve-wracking, not just going to Pride but going to Pride with Cas on his arm. It's not nerve-wracking at all, and he soon drifts off to sleep.

Friday goes by faster than it should. The six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, although packed in a car with five people, goes by in a blink. They stop for provisions before getting to Jody's, filling up on backpacks' worth of snacks.

They get to the house and are met with endless hugs and excitement to match. Patience, Alex, and Jody are already working on dinner for the bunch, while Charlie, Donna, and Kaia are running around prepping for the next day and dragging along a hesitant but nevertheless happy Claire. Dinner is chaotic and loud and there are way too many people at the table, and Dean has to step outside after a while.

He sits on the back porch steps. Claire joins him. She's holding a beer, he's not. He hasn't been drinking for a few months now. They don't talk, but she leans her head on his shoulder and they stay there a while, looking at the stars.

When they go back inside, Claire sits back down in her spot at Cas's left, across the table from Dean, and leans on his shoulder for a while too. It's her way of saying she cares, of saying I missed you without really saying it. Jack sits at Cas's right, talking excitedly with Patience about some tv show or other, and the image fills Dean with such fondness that he reaches over with his foot, presses it to Cas's ankle, and keeps it there for the rest of the night.

Dean, Cas, Jack, Sam, and Eileen spend the night spread out around in the living area while the girls sleep in their respective rooms, and Dean is only slightly less nervous as he falls asleep holding Cas’s hand.

---

The nerves all come flooding back as he’s parking the Impala the next morning.

They’re not able to get even remotely close to Phillips Avenue since the streets are so full. They park the three cars that all twelve of them came in as close as they can and then have to walk for another twenty minutes. From blocks and blocks away, people walk and holler and greet them excitedly, many of them trying to circle this swarm of flanneled individuals that are taking up a whole sidewalk. Granted, Dean and Claire are the only ones in their usual kind of outfit. The rest of the bunch is wearing as many colors as they could compile from their closets, half of them are wearing face paint, and the other half are carrying an assortment of pride flags.

They fit right in.

The walk toward the main avenue of the parade is kind of a blur for Dean. He knows he waved at a few people, some friends of Alex from high school joined the group at some point, and Jack already grabbed a snack from his backpack.

The actual parade is also kind of hazy. Getting out of the house that morning had been probably even more chaotic than the night before, so they’re a bit late and the parade has already been going for a good half hour. On top of that, they accidentally merge into it not quite at the starting point but a bit further down the road, in between a decked-out pickup truck and a group of people with dogs. Music is blaring, the dogs are all barking, a big float rides a few yards in front of them, and hundreds stand on the sidewalks recording on their phones and cheering them along.

Dean’s not sure they’re even supposed to be in the actual parade. Maybe they’re supposed to be on the sidewalks? Is this right? What is happening, what is he even doing here?

He doesn’t notice how heavy he’s breathing until Cas is squeezing his hand and beckoning him to meet his eyes. He does, and the blue in them, as imposing as the Atlantic, drowns out everything else around them. “You’re okay, my love,” Cas says. It’s a fact. As long as Dean is with him, he’s okay.

On his other side, Dean feels someone link their arm around his. It’s Charlie, and she’s beaming at them, her cheeks almost as red as her hair. It brings Dean back to reality, grounds him, but he’s okay now. He’s not alone, and he’s meant to be here.

He’s proud to be here.

The parade leads up to a sloping park, and at the lowest point of it, there’s a stage where Dean assumes someone will MC for the afternoon, or maybe perform. It’s grandiose in its simplicity, kind of like a Greek theater, with everyone settling down on the grass around it, expectantly.

“We’ll be right back,” Dean hears Sam say, and he turns to find they’re all set to spend the afternoon, towels laid and backpacks off (save for his). “Jack wants to go meet the drag queens,” Sam says with just a bit too much glee before he and Jack take off.

“It’s not just Jack,” Eileen smiles and follows.

Cas is already sitting, eating one of the PB&Js he packed as lunches for everyone. Jody and Donna are settling down as well and Charlie’s taking a dozen pictures, but the rest of the girls are all standing. “We’re gonna go check out the vendors,” Claire announces, and they start to take off as well.

“Be careful, please!” Dean calls after them, but they pay him no mind. He turns to Charlie. “Hey, your majesty, keep an eye on them will you?”

She smiles, bows gracefully, and heads in the same direction.

Jody stands and grabs Dean by the arm, beckoning him to talk in private for a second.

“What’s up?”

If Dean knows Jody at all, and he does, they’re on the brink of a mom talk.

“Look around, Dean.”

“What for?”

“Just look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Please?”

So, at her request, Dean starts taking in the environment. Now that everyone is gathered, he can actually see all the people that came out (heh) for the event. There are church groups, pet shelters, skateboarders, and rollerskaters. Drag queens are already taking pictures by the stage, and at least two people are wearing unicorn heads. A few vendors’ tents and food trucks surround the park, and rainbows completely dominate the scenery. There are elders, and kids, and all kinds of families and couples, and everyone looks… happy. Free.

And Dean is here with them. He is one of them.

There’s no danger, no monsters of any kind. No one to judge him, hurt him, call him sick in the head.

He finds Claire’s blonde head amongst the sea of shoppers at the edge of the park. She’s holding hands with Kaia and has one of the biggest smiles Dean has ever seen on her face. There’s no shame in it, and she’s not in any danger either. Things are different now, and she has the freedom to be herself that he never had at her age.

He has it now too. He can be himself.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s about to cry until Jody pulls him down into a hug.

“Dean, I am so proud of you.”

And then he cries.

---

They spend the afternoon laying on the grass, eating, drinking, and enjoying the festivities. The girls come back from the vendors’ tents after a full hour, and most of the bags on their arms are Charlie’s. She gets Cas a mug that says bee yourself in rainbow colors with an image of a cartoon bee, and she gets Dean a button pin that says AC/DC in pink and blue. There’s a meaning behind that apparently, and Dean decides he’ll look it up later.

Jack memorizes all the drag queen’s names. Donna takes a million pictures. They trade numbers with a few people.

There’s a big fireworks show just after sundown. It starts to get windy and a bit chilly, so Dean grabs the nearest pride flag and wraps it around himself. Cas, the perpetual freak who just doesn’t feel temperature apparently, is wearing a t-shirt and shorts and smiling at him unabashedly.

“What?”

“That’s the bisexual flag.”

So it is. “Shut up,” Dean says, but he’s smiling too. “You want in on this?”

He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond before he wraps it around his shoulders as well. The fireworks continue.

“You know,” Cas says after a beat. “As beautiful as they are, pyrotechnics are extremely damaging to the environment.”

Dean can’t help but laugh because of course, Cas would say something like that in a moment like this. He laughs and laughs and regrets being the only one to have heard that; then again, he’s the only one who could’ve found that funny.

He laughs a bit more, wipes a tear, and sees that Cas is still just solemnly watching the show.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He replies and then turns his head.

Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad. Then he remembers where he is, physically and in his life right now, realizes whom he’s surrounded by at this very second, and decides that he can.

So he does. It’s not unlike the way he kissed Cas when they rescued him from the Empty. Granted, there’s less sweat, blood, adrenaline. But just like that day, they’re both on the ground, and the gesture catches Cas by surprise. Just like that day, Dean pulls Cas in gently by the back of his neck and there’s no hesitance or fear. Just like that day, he just does it, presses their lips firmly together, and relishes in the taste of Castiel, in the feeling of the person he loves most in this world kissing him back.

The one big difference is this: that day marked the beginning of the rest of his life. Today? Today is just Dean’s first Pride.

[lvnatiq]

Modern!au Felix Escellun x tattoo artist!gn!reader | Headcanons

a/n: Hey!!! I’m back at it again with my beautifully fucked up request fill. I’m still working on three other things, while I make you wait I took it upon myself to not starve this fandom. So here you have it. Please reblog or comment so that I have a crumb of motivation to keep up.

Should I do a smutty pt. 2 ? Who knows lmao.

Your hand slipped through the pile of designs that your colleague (and your close friend) had sent you to choose and pick apart from.

Unfortunately you were spending the night at the beautiful library of your uni, trying to balance off your school work with your actual work.

You didn’t mind spending your time under the faint scent of books and the mere sound of wood beneath you feet, but what you ‘do’ mind is the fact that the library is way colder than you thought it would be after the midnight.

Good thing that the yearning for finishing your work and leaving as soon as possible made it easier to concentrate on the task at hand.

It also made it easier for you to not notice the presence of an unexpected company.

That was until you felt the warm floral yet musky scent invade your senses as you felt the weight of cotton drape around your shoulders.

You slowly turn your head towards the owner of the coat who’s already making their way out. Desperately trying to find a way to make them stop but failing to raise your voice because of the circumstances.

The last picture of the person buried in your head was their hair caressed by the wind and their quick steps.

Fast forward to a week later, going completely out of luck with finding a place to stay you decide to ask help from your friend whom interestingly has a lot to offer.

With things going a lot smoother than you expected you stopped by the tattoo shop to finish your appointments with couple of customers before you left to meet up with your possible candidate.

“Don’t bother I’ll just call him here so you could talk comfortably.”

Your work seemed to take a lot longer than usual. So you kindly accepted your friends offer as you wrapped up the leftover stuff, finishing up the last customer.

“Hey, oh-“

The sight of your guest tickled your memories as you kept glaring at the glorious figure in front of you.

Felix, completely avoiding eye contact, placed the fallen hair strand behind his ear as he kept his eyes on the table of the tattoo equipments.

You quickly got up as you grabbed his coat from the hanger and walked back where you left him.

“Thank you for the coat, you really saved me back there.”

“Oh- no problem.”

That day you two chatted and melted the ice in between. Deciding to rent the close by apartment and start your roommate era.

Your friend smiled to themselves knowing all too well that felix was completely crazy about you.

Your encounter at the library wasn’t a coincidence either, well don’t think of him as a stalker now, he just dumped a couple of coins in the fountain wishing that you would be there that night. That’s all.

As you two moved in together you realized that there were a lot of things to be ‘caught off guard’ about him but you were most baffled by the tremendous amount of books felix owned.

“Hey Lover boy ! Would you mind recommending me some of them ?”

Felix blushes terribly and you love it so much that you constantly bother him in order to catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

Unbeknownst to you, the pile that felix left on the doorstep of your room was consisted of the books that he thought of you as he read.

Felix, abandoning his night owl habit, decided to fix his sleeping schedule for the better. Definitely not because he wanted to see you at morning before you got off to the work.

Insisting on offering you a ride on your way back home with his nice car.

Nearly every single day.

He knows that it may annoy you but he knows how much you are devoted to your responsibilities so he at least wants for you to save a bit of energy before you dive into the work.

Speaking of his nice car, it tickled your curiosity so you decided to check the price tag on the web and... well...

“Felix... you don’t so some sketchy illegal shit for a living right ?”

“It’s nearly impossible for me to work at the moment because of my studies. Why did you ask ?”

“Your car costs more than the apartment we are living in right now.”

With that, you discover that Felix’s father owns one of the most prominent chains of pharmaceutical companies and that he basically flee from his fathers mansion because he was pressuring Felix to take over his position in the future.

Being his puppet was not a thing to be tolerated in Felix’s book.

That being said, your domestic life with felix was pretty soft to say the least.

Cleaning together, cooking while talking about how your day went or getting to enjoy his expressions while he spilled his frustration against authors that didn’t affect him well.

Occasionally noticing the new cooking books appearing out of nowhere

and the delicious smell of food welcoming you after work, quite often than you expect.

Finally, more skinship.

One day whilst you two got through the gates of your apartment block you noticed the open doors of the elevator so instinctively you held Felix by the hand and ran into the mirrored box.

What you didn’t notice was the fact that you didn’t let go of his hand as you two went up.

From that day on Felix used every single opportunity to sneak his hand into yours.

Don’t blame him, it’s just that your hands are warm and the feeling of security that radiates from your fingertips is his medicine.

You absolutely avoided to tease or point it out to him because you knew that he would never do it again so you went with the flow.

You really enjoyed it though.

Snaking your arms around his waist while he is organizing the bookshelf. Feeling him shutter into your arms.

Nights became more and more enjoyable once he started to accompany you.

Everytime you caught him slacking on the sofa, you used his lap as a pillow.

Felix is extremely easy to figure out, mainly because he can’t hide anything.

Also, well

He is ticklish and you use his weakness against him, a lot.

Diving your fingers down to the sides of his tummy you started to tickle every possible sensitive spot you could catch on.

“Spit it out.”

“I-I wan’t you to- give me my first tattoo.”

Telling his words apart from his adorable giggles, needless to say you were ecstatic.

“Alright. What do I get in return ?”

“Name your price.”

You thoughtfully stared at the ceiling, humming as you blurted out your very obviously well thought out response.

“I want you to show me what keeps you up all night.”

You can’t be serious.

If you asked for an organ, he would’ve been more compliant.

You didn’t know what you got yourself into.

You basically asked for him to show you his ‘masterpieces’ that he showcases on AO3. Something that you were already well aware of.

“Deal ?”

“No !”

“Good ! Let’s see what you got.”

Felix anonymously contributed to the community by writing some of the most famous slow-burn stories on the web.

Just so you know, his author persona blew up thanks to the mind blowing, earth shattering smuts he wrote.

Yeah you heard that right

Smuts

Well he is fucking panicking now.

Nonetheless days kept on going as felix prayed each night to every single deity that you forgot your ‘deal’.

The days go on even if his worries don’t.

Did I say that Felix is a whimpering, whiny mess ? he struggles to stay in one position as the needle drags upon his skin.

“If you plan to keep on moving, I might as well strap you down felix. 5 more minutes and then we are done. Please behave.”

When you put it like that how can he refuse I mean you made things worse he is internally screaming at what you just said but he is not going to refuse a command when it’s given by you.

In exchange for giving him a tattoo you decide to let him give you one even though he’s inexperienced.

He’s terrified because he thinks that something would go wrong, his hand would slip or something and he would scratch that pretty skin of yours with a horrendous tattoo.

But you assured him nevertheless and offered him to draw something very minimal and easy. He accepted eventually.

As it turns out Felix is a natural. His hand is extremely steady and the tattoo turns out great.

Throughout the process he’s constantly asking if you’re hurt because he thinks that he’s doing something wrong but in fact he’s very delicate and gentle with the strokes and his touch.

You decide to be evil and use it against him. After you touch up your tattoo you lean in very closely and turn your cheek towards him.

“What are you doing ?” He stutters.

“I can’t possibly ask you to kiss my freshly made tattoo, so won’t you give me a kiss so that it heals faster.”

If his hands were steady before they weren’t now.

As soon as his lips left your cheek you held him by his wrist and pull him back close again so that you can lean in onto his ear.

“Don’t think that I’ve forgotten our deal. I am excited to see what you have in store for me tonight.” You winked.

Then the worst thing happened

The “tonight” came.

Felix was running in circles around the living room with one hand on his forehead wondering what could get worse after this.

Maybe you’ll be disgusted or scared hell if he knows.

He wanted to do nothing to harm your relationship in anyway because you and what you two have is all he ever wanted.

...and he believes that he has a tendency to ruin things.

But what happened was beyond his expectations.

Your eyes followed every single sentence throughout the screen, the white light traced your expressions as your eyebrows raised up and down and the corners of your lips inched closer to your ears. Your lower lip became a victim of your teeth’s assault.

He was so confused. Still waiting for you to lash out or make fun of him, at least.

“I used to think ‘what am I gonna do with you’ when it comes to you. Mostly out of frustration.”

Yet here you were with the laptop closed shut and your arms behind your head as you closed your eyes and groaned.

Slowly the smile plastered on your face grew.

”Now I know what to with you.”

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: i

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

chapter 2   ||   chapter 3 ||  chapter 4

ao3

word count: ~3k

You serve Hawks a lavender, oat milk latte. Not only is he hooked on your drinks, but he's also hooked on you as well.

a fluffy multi-chaptered piece i’ll release when i’m feeling it :’^) enjoy y’all. coffee shop au hell

||||||||||||||||||

You and Keigo met each other on the coldest, snowiest day of the year.

The temperature was near glacial. The air stung and bit like hell, wind kicking and spitting powdery snow as it fell in sheets from the grey sky.

The weather, horribly, prevented two of your coworkers from working the morning shift at the tea shop. Half of the trains were shut down across the city in addition to power outages. But, your cheap ass owner forced you to open. Alone. In a blizzard.

You were fairly certain that you wouldn’t be getting many customers.

Opening at the tea shop on a normal day was a hellish amount of work. As you unlocked the door and walked into your humble establishment of employment, you grimaced at the thought of all of the work you were to do.

After disrobing from your thick winter jacket, scarf, and mittens and throwing on your apron, it was time to begin. You made yourself a simple, oat milk latte and then started to get to work setting up for the day. 

It was hardly dawn. 

  Keigo was on early morning patrol. It wasn’t his favorite shift, oh, hardly, but he did enjoy watching the sunrise. And, while his wings were powerful, the snowstorm did force him to fly much lower in the grey haze of the day than he normally would. Stepping out of his apartment around just before 5:30 AM, Keigo almost moaned in anguish at the cold. He was infinitely glad he had worn a thermal bodysuit under his uniform.

His quirk afforded him much in terms of battle prowess, in addition to a few avian mutations. Most notably at that moment was his difficulty conserving heat. As Keigo stood on his balcony, frowning at the can of coffee in his hand, he made the prompt decision to fly to his area of patrol and grab a hot drink. The thought of downing something cold made his stomach turn.

Gracefully, Keigo turned and flew, letting himself be carried across town. The area he was patrolling was relatively quiet, mostly small businesses and lower-middle-class apartments. As he touched down, shivering and sleepy, he padded through the empty streets with his wings folded to his back.

  The wind was wild, wiping between buildings, making snowdrifts that blocked some of the doors of shops nearby. Part of you cursed, shaking your head. You desperately wanted to be warm, curled in bed with your cats, and watching cartoons.

You set up the shop, moving chairs and turning on machines. Though you were a tea shop, you sold more coffee than any sort. On a normal, fully-staffed day, you’d be in the back, crafting tea blends. But, that day was, in fact, a very abnormal day and it was about to get weirder.

  Keigo meandered around the streets, strangely at genuine ease. There were no civilians and very few stores open allowing him to walk freely, albeit coldly. Part of him wondered if he would even find a coffee shop.

But lo and behold, he did. 

Keigo opened the door, a cute bell ringing. The shop was themed warmly with yellow-toned wood counters and furnishings. There was a smattering of local art on the walls and jewel-toned accents. All in all, it was a cozy reprieve from the icy nature of outside. Keigo relished the heat.

It seemed only one person was working, you. 

  When you heard the bell sounding at the entrance of a customer, you piped up from behind the counter, “Just one sec!”

A kind laugh, “Take your time.”

You were struggling to reach a tea blend. It was high on the many shelves behind the counter. You clamored on top of the counter, rising on your knees to try and reach it. Your hands stretched to grip it with an arch of your back. You grinned in victory as you managed to grab it. You pulled back, miscalculating in your pride—

And then you were losing balance.

And then you were falling.

(How fucking cliche).

You would’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t for some unknown force, pushing you back onto the counter, steadying you. The sensation, new, perked you up, causing you to let out a high noise of surprise. You turned, your eyes going wide.

Several beautiful, scarlet feathers caught your fall.

Your eyes flickered up to your patron savior.

  Number two hero, Hawks, smiling at you and giving you a bit of cheshire grin, stifling a laugh.

You slowly descended from the counter, turning to face him at the register, “Well, I really have to say thank you. I nearly ate shit there.”

“All in a day's work,” Hawks winked at you. You beamed easily. Local heroes came and drank at the shop fairly regularly, but never anyone particularly famous, let alone the top ten. Never the incredibly stunning, wind-whipped bachelor hero that was Hawks.

“What can I get for you today?” You asked, going for a notepad.

Hawks eyes scanned the menu behind you. He hummed, pretty, amber eyes settling back on you, “Surprise me.”

Your eyes widened, but you nodded. You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Alright, let me ask a few questions, just to make your drink the best it can.” You told him. “First off, hot or iced?”

“Oh, definitely hot,” Hawks almost wiggled a feathered eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 

“Okay, how much caffeine? Any allergies?” You asked, scribbling an idea down on the notepad. “Milk preference?”

“As much as you can legally supply me with, no preferred milk, and no allergies. Though, I do like things sweet,” Hawks was removing his gloves as he spoke. “Go crazy, give me the best thing you got, angel. Something that gives me the warm and fuzzies.”

Oh, that was a move. 

Hawks was notoriously (in the media) shamelessly flirtatious with fans and other heroes. It was always painted as something that was in good fun, never sexual, and just part of his brand. This was just common knowledge, but god you never expected it to be directed at you with a cute pet name.

  “On it,” You smiled back at him, face hot. You smoothed yourself down before beginning to craft his drink. 

It wasn’t often that you worked the front counter, and there was a good reason for it. Most of the time, you got too into making drinks, customizing them frivolously (often due to your quirk). Though you were skilled, it took a lot of time that people didn’t have for a coffee run.

But, on the day of a momentous snowstorm, you and Hawks had all the time in the world.

  Keigo was a bit stunned by you.  

You were cute, one. 

You were wearing a soft-looking turtleneck sweater, and high-waisted, wide-leg pants. They were fashionable but obviously aged. But it worked. A cute, embroidered apron was tied over you snuggly around your waist. It was adorned with buttons and pins, brightly colored.

 You spoke so frankly to him. You didn’t gawk at him for even a second, even when his feathers propped you up from falling. You blushed at his pet name but didn’t seem any more fazed than a bit of embarrassment. He liked it. It felt normal.

Keigo rested his hands on the counter, watching you flit about behind the counter. 

“I gotta ask, why are you open in this blizzard??” Keigo tilted his head as your gaze flickered to him. You were still smiling, just a bit, even hard at work. 

  You snorted, “Cheap boss who won’t close, and my coworkers are stranded without the trains running. I live close by and work hourly, so I might as well come in, ya’ know?”

Hawks laughed, something warm and full, so juxtaposed to the storm of flurries outside. 

It was odd, talking to the number two fucking hero so casually, but it felt good. There was a sense of awe and idleness, but it dimmed. There were no flashy heroics, just one person wanting a drink and the other making it.

Your quirk activated on its own as you stared at the syrups. Your quirk’s tell was so small and normal, no one ever caught it. A heavy dilation of the eyes was not something most people were tuned into. Yet there you were, submerged in sensation. Touch, sight, smell, taste, even sound, all blending together. They elicited something deeper in you, creating something abstract you could make tangible.

To make a feeling into a physical reality was a gift, but it came with drawbacks of course.

You poured a few syrups into the bottom of the cup, carefully selecting them.

“I can’t imagine how cold it is up in the sky,” You mused to yourself just before steaming some oat milk. 

“Oh, you have no idea, ” Hawks lamented to you with a groan. “I feel like I’m gonna lose a few toes whenever I work in this weather.”

“Just toes? I’d be worried about a whole foot,” You grinned back at him as you poured more things into the cup, stirring every few moments. 

The feeling in your mind was so tangible to you, and you could perfectly translate it to reality. Something warm, to beat away the frost of the world beyond the tea shop. 

You sprinkled the top with a few dashes of cinnamon, setting it on the counter in front of him. 

  Keigo looked down at the drink you made him, raising an eyebrow. He went to take a sip, but you stopped him, “I’d give that a few minutes if you don’t want to burn your tongue, tailfeathers.”

  Hawks nearly fucking squawked as he set down the drink, giving you a look of false anger, “ Tailfeathers? That’s not a kind name to call me. I don’t even have those.”

Keigo huffed, pouting at you. 

  “You call me, a stranger barista, angel, I call you tailfeathers. Easy trade.” You shrugged at him, tapping into the register system. “I’m not charging you until you try it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to upcharge if I don’t like it?” Hawks continued to pout, jokingly so, pulling out a wad of bills that was undoubtedly much more than any drink would cost. 

Your eyes widened, leaving you sputtering, “Oh, never— it’s on the house if it bangs as much as I think it will.”

Hawks laughed, out loud, bending back a bit. You watched his pretty red wings shudder and reflect the warm light of the coffee house. Keigo collected himself, over-dramatically straightening himself. 

You watched with anticipation as he took his sip.

  Keigo was a man of poor taste. Sure, dropping an unholy amount of money on frivolities was one of his small pleasures, after so much of the ascetic bullshit that the Commission put him through, it only seemed fair. But, caffeine was a necessity with his fucked up schedule and he’d be damned waiting in a line or making it at home. Canned coffee was saccharine and speedy and that’s all he fucking wanted. 

But, when the first drops of that stupid oat milk latte hit his tongue, Keigo was beyond enamored. 

Yeah, he wanted coffee to feel warm in this storm, but he didn’t expect to feel warm. With just one gulp, he could feel the heat, like the flames of a steady hearth, drift around his body. 

He brought the cup down from his lips, looking at you with awe. 

You had the smuggest grin spread across your face, arms crossed over your chest.

“Thoughts?” God, you were so cheeky. He loved it. You were so subtly bold.

“This,” Keigo took another greedy swig, wiping his mouth on the back of his ungloved hand, “is the best coffee I’ve ever had in my damn life.”

Your smile just got wider. 

“Glad I could meet your tastes, tailfeathers. No charge,” You gave him a cheeky little wink. You swore you saw his face get redder, but you dismissed it a moment later.

“Oh no, nu-uh,” Keigo pushed the bills towards you. “Take it as a tip then. Seriously. How did you make this?”

You stared down at the bills and Hawks’s hand. His hands weren’t particularly large, but they were scarred plenty. Veins and bone were accented by the dryness of his skin. 

You looked back up at him, still not taking the money, “Can you keep a secret? It’s a big one, especially considering you’re a hero.”

Hawks tilted his head, “If you say you used your quirk to mess with this drink, I don’t know if I’m legally able to keep it a secret.”

“Nah, nah. I didn’t ‘mess with your drink’,” You shook your head, nodding down to it. “Do you know what synesthesia is?”

(He did, surely. But he just wanted to listen to you talk more.)

“Enlighten me?” Hawks ask, stooping to rest his elbows on the counter, chin cradled in his hands.

  For being a man who could kill you in a split second, Hawks was remarkably cute. You understood his sex appeal long before he entered the shop. His hair looked unnaturally fluffy, wind-ruffled, and honey blonde. His eyes had a few cute bird-like markings ringing the sweet, amber irises. He had a delicate but defined jaw. 

He raised a sculpted, feathered eyebrow at you. 

(He’d caught you staring).

You cleared your throat, laughing it off easily (though you were mentally kicking yourself), “Synesthesia, broadly, is like senses overlapping in your brain. Like... The common example is seeing colors when you hear a month of the year.”

“Now, what does this have to do with my lovely drink?” Hawks batted his eyelashes at you. You could tell he was definitely flirting with you, but you brushed it off the best you could. 

He’s a hot guy you made coffee for. Happens all the time. 

“Well, you had me a little bit, I did use my quirk, but it doesn’t mess with your drink physically at all. Not even close,” You laugh. “My quirk allows me to conceptualize abstract ideas into tangible ideas.”

“That really makes it sound like you used your quirk to make my drink,” Keigo watched your eyes dilate as he spoke.

You blinked, and they went back to normal.

“No, no. It’s like for your drink,” Both of your eyes looked towards the steaming cup. “I took your request for ‘warm and fuzzies’ to heart.”

Keigo blinked at you. 

Your pupils expanded again, “I figured ‘ you know, this guy has to fly around in the cold all day, right? Probably is freezing and far away from home ’— and there was my inspiration.

“I used my quirk to conceptualize... the idea of being warm and safe into a tangible concept. A nice, easy coffee drink. Four shots of espresso, oat milk, homemade lavender honey syrup, two of my own, specially made tea extracts, and a bit of cinnamon for good measure.”

Hawks blinked at you, “Your quirk gives you the... blueprints, to turn ideas, literal feelings, into reality and these blueprints just work?” 

You nodded and shrugged, “Most of the time. The less I’m focused on it, the more likely it is that the feeling won’t be able to manifest. I just get more exact with my construction with the fewer stimuli.”

“Drawback?” Hawks quirked an eyebrow, already having a good idea as to it.

You gestured lazily to the empty coffee shop, “I get overstimulated easily, quirk activated or not. Makes a lot of shit hard, but I like my quirk. I mean, it’s nothing like having a crazy strong pair of wings, but it services me well.”

“Did you really ‘manifest’ ‘warm and fuzzies’ into a drink, or did you make it a bit deeper than that?” Keigo sipped again, relishing how it warmed him all over once more. The taste that was dancing over his palette seemed a little more complex than what they were saying. 

“To be frank and to have a bit of an ego, yeah, I went for my go-to feeling when making drinks for myself,” You averted your eyes from him. “A good drink should feel like you’re getting hugged from the inside out, you know? Comforted. It’s hard enough to get that tangibly without a quirk. I just try to help where I can.”

  Keigo blinked at you.

You had turned suddenly, shy, eyes anxiously darting and a hand tugging at the sleeve of your sweater. A cute flush was spreading over your cheekbones when you finally looked at him again, “Kinda corny, right?”

Despite the fact that Keigo’s heart was fucking pounding, he shook his head, voice steady and sure, “Nah, I think it’s cool. You’re doing a lot more than just making coffee for folks.”

Your face got even redder as you rubbed the back of your head,

“I usually work in the back, so I don’t tend to make a lot of coffee for people. I make the tea blends that we sell. I don’t always use my quirk, but sometimes I do.”

Keigo watched you nervously pull at your apron, giving him an oddly desperate deadpan, “Please don’t turn me in.”

That made Keigo bust out laughing again. 

You couldn’t help but stare at him in shock, and then join him. You covered your mouth at first, but finally, just let yourself laugh with him. All it seemed like that there was in the world was you, Keigo, the lavender latte, and the snowdrifts outside.

  Hawks’s pager beeped, almost instantly pulling him from his laughing fit. He glanced at it, giving a dull grimace, “Duty calls, it seems.”

“You’d think villains would take snow days?” You told him as he re-gloved his hands. 

“It would really make my job easier,” He chuckled. Hawks pushed the forgotten money on the counter. “That’s all for you, ya hear me? Keep it or I will actually turn you in.”

Oh, you were feeling bold. 

Before Hawks could pull his hand away, you placed your own on his, stopping his movement.

“Only,” You somehow, one-handed, managed to pull a bit of receipt paper from its machine. Still one-handed you grabbed a pen and scribbled onto the paper. You pushed it towards Keigo. “If you take this very conveniently small piece of paper that totally doesn’t have my name and number on it. Just in case you’d like another lavender latte like that.”

  Oh, Keigo was floored.

He had rapid fucking fans. They were feral. He’d had fans drop their entire life stories on him, gush to him, stalk him— one time, a fan dropped to their knees and licked his boots. And he’d certainly received many phone numbers in his day, so many, but never like this. 

This felt a little different.

“Well, I was gonna say, I might need some contact to know when you work next. Just so I can grab one of your lovely drinks,” Hawks winked at you, all smitten.  He walked backwards towards the door, still meeting your eyes

“Feel free to.” You were just as starry-eyed as he was. “I have a lot to show you!”

And with that, Hawks whisked himself out of the door, fast as ever.

And you both simmered, full of intangible feelings. 

[khneltea]

Jasonette headcannon #1 section b.

Woah, so apparently y'all like this stuff. Uhm, takes inspiration from @mochegato and @SquareBrain on AO3

Previous

↬ Jason will never admit that he felt scared out of his wits as he rocked up to the shop

↬ nope, nuh-uh, never

↬ the store owner who stood a head shorter than him wasn't scary in the slightest

↬ so, dressed up in his best leather jacket and jeans, plus that old red shirt that may or may not have a bullet hole in it somewhere but was the best one he could find, he opened the door to the shop

↬ only to tremble in his boots at who was in the shop (whether it was anger or sheer fear, he will not admit to either and will deny all allegations of said trembling)

↬ inside was 2 of the biggest crime lords in Gotham, the one from the docks and the one from the underground, notorious for trying to tear each other's throats out, sitting peacefully on pretty pink cushions and enjoying pastries and tea out of tiny dainty tea cups

↬ what.the.actual.fuck.

↬ the glaringly pink (he supposed that was the theme) door to the right suddenly burst open and out comes the lady of the hour, and behind her was a very hot teenage girl (about 15 years old), but for some reason, he didn't really pay attention to her

↬ all eyes were on the two ladies, the hot one giggling away about a quinceañera while the owner of the shop smiled serenely, surveying the surroundings (probably checking if there was a gang war)

↬ her bluebell eyes popped out when they saw him (he says it was because he was handsome, but don't listen to him-)

↬ "hello! Welcome to my boutique, would you like to take a seat while checking our ready-made garments? Or are you here for a commision?"

↬ "uhhhhhhh..." Jason didn't think that far ahead. And it's hard going impromptu when there was a beautiful lady devoting all her attention on him

↬ she smiled like she knew exactly what he was thinking

↬ "why don't you take a seat, monsieur, and I'll help you out dans juste un instant (oh gosh, I'm sorry all you people who speak french who are going to call me out for using Google translate-)"

↬ so he's just sitting there, a tiny tea cup with little black cats and ladybugs on the sides held in his hands as he sees her negotiating a purchase with one of the mobster groups

↬ he nearly sighed in relief when the crime lord by the docks left with the gorgeous girl (probably his daughter now that he thought about it) after leaving a heavy briefcase and a business card in exchange for a beautiful sleek gown and matching accessories

↬ kinda scared him how friendly they both seemed to the store owner and how...warm that look in both the father and daughter's eyes were

↬ and he couldn't help but flinch when the crime lord from Gotham underground (is this a thing-) grins while the blue eyed woman started taking his measurements

↬ "doll, you're always welcome to come over anytime. You're good at business, I need more people like that."

↬ she has the fucking audacity to laugh. Laugh, I tell you

↬ "non, non, monsieur. I am quite happy with my little shop over here. Besides, the young ones would miss my pastries too much if I moved."

↬ he waved a hand. "Those street rats? If that's all that it takes to get you on my side, then consider them to be in better protection and care than those kids Wayne adopts every 5 seconds."

↬ got to say, his heart went thump when he pieced together that she took care of the street kids

↬ she grins "well, you're already giving them protection for living in my block, so that's all I need. Don't worry about the rest, I've got it covered."

↬ the crime lord shrugs. "Eh, I don't really care about the brats. But you, you're the one that needs protecting. Where else will I be getting these good suits that don't tear all the goddamn time from knives and guns? Plus, what's another 5 or 6 men patrolling this area to keep my favourite designer safe? If it makes you happy that they're inadvertently looking out for the kids, then better for me."

↬ wait those suits protected him from knives and guns????? Who the hell was this woman???

↬ smiling in response, but not as brightly anymore, she stood up, jotting down some notes in her book

↬ "alright, monsieur, you'll have to come in to a fitting on Saturday, presumably before your interaction with Monsieur Falcone at 1pm, so would it be presumptuous to ask if you come in at 10:30?"

↬ "not at all, my dear! it's a pleasure of doing business with you"

↬ "also, preferably, don't wear the flashy red suit you have, might i recommend the blue one from the fitting before last week's? Monsieur Falcone would gladly appreciate the red suit blaring in his eyes after the concussion he received recently"

↬ wait

↬ how the fuck did she know that

↬ falcone got that last night (he should know, he gave it to him)

↬ and the only ones who should know about it right now are him, Falcone, and no one else

↬ either this kid was magic, or she was Alfred level shit (he's still not convinced that Alfred is fully human)

↬ "thanks doll" and the crime lord leaves

↬ she turns to him, smiles and everything

↬ "alright, monsieur hood, what would you like to purchase today? or are you still having difficulty choosing?"

↬ uhm fuck ok

↬ how the hell do you talk to pretty, badass women that can probably take over the entirety of Gotham in a day

↬ "uhhhhhh got anything in red that doesn't make me look like a fucking period stain?"

↬ she giggled in a way that you know it's not flirting but just generally found it funny, and he thought it was the creation of the universe

↬ "i'm sure we can find you something, monsieur hood."

↬ proceeds to pull him up (what the fuck she was so strong for such a tiny girl) and lead him to the back room

↬ fabrics upon fabrics upon fabrics lay everywhere in chaos, but he felt like if he moved something, the balance of the room would be upset

↬ finally comes to a bar that ran from one end of a rack to the other, thin fabrics lining it

↬ the blue-eyed girl takes a beautiful black silk cravat with red embroidery that boldly stood out (yes, he knows what a cravat is, sue him for wanting to know what Mr Knightley, Mr Bingley, and Mr Darcy wore in the books) and drapes it over his neck, critically eyeing it

↬ in the process, pulling him down by the neck to look at it and being very close to her pink plump lips

↬ uhm fuck what do i do what do i say who am i what is life what the fuck austen you didn't prepare me for this-

↬ "as i thought", she says, "this is a good colour scheme for you, but probably more of a black with a tinge of brown and a more muted red colour scheme for everyday use."

↬ she walks away and comes back with a measuring tape and measures his neck, shoulders, arms, and starts measuring around the torso

↬ he doesn't even register this because of how efficient she is and because he was used to it from living with Bruce fucking Wayne (he won't admit that he was just too distracted by the way her dainty little fingers brushed against the back of his ears as she leaned forward to check the measurements, nor when they fluttered against his biceps and chest)

↬ when she's done, she starts writing measurements and mumbling under her breath, which snaps him out of his stupor

↬ "why did you take my measurements?"

↬ "a good cravat needs a good suit, and what better than for me to make a matching one when I have the time and resources to do it?"

↬ she fucking grinned at him like a devious minx who knew more about him than she should and he melted a bit. 

↬ just a little bit.

↬ turning around, she stuck her hand out, still smiling like a fucking seductress

↬ "I'll be making your suit and cravats, let's hope to a wonderful relationship, it's going to be a pleasure working with you."

↬ he tried to match her smile, but ended up feeling like a dork with his heart beating 200 times a second. and he felt like an even bigger dork when he took her hand and gave her a small kiss on the knuckles. "believe me, the pleasure is all mine, dove. might i dare, i fain would ask, for your sweet name? that while a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, i feel that yours would double in so."

↬ she smiled back at him.

↬ "why, good sir, it is a good show of faith in the honey to the flower of life, as Hugo quotes, but I wish you would take me to dinner first before such matters. My name, you ask? It is Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

↬ He smirked. "My name is Jason Todd."

↬ "I know, Monsieur Hood."

↬ "Wait, how the fuck do you know-"

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 2: Coffee Shop / Tattoo Parlor / Flower Shop / Other Retail AU

Coffee and other ways to heal the soul.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: General Audiences

TW: Valhalla arc (mentioned), coffee, NCIS cameo

AN: Day 2 of @tropetember. I was really struggling with the coffee shop AU but once I got going, really got way too into it and could probably pad this out into a short series. Is that something people would be interested in?

Also, not really sure if I managed to capture Spencer but remember this is an AU and that's my excuse!

Enjoy!

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 2.4k

One of the biggest advantages of owning one of the few coffee shops in Quantico that wasn't part of a massive chain, was the constant stream of senior FBI and Navy personnel desperate for high quality, well made coffee. It had become such a lucrative venture in fact that you could afford to hire enough staff to rarely even have to be behind the counter at all.

The surge in popularity has even allowed you to convert one of the spare upstairs rooms into a meeting room. In hindsight, you should have converted more because once your regulars found out about it, there had been outright war between the Navy and FBI to try and get meetings booked in. A couple of your regulars had even managed to get both institutions to hardwire connections so they could host even more briefings and meetings in the friendly, comfortable space.

Today's winners were a Unit from the FBI, who had booked it out for a whole day. Aaron Hotchner, the BAU chief, came in most mornings and was a real sweetheart. You'd been trying to get him to drink something other than his normal americano since his return from Afghanistan a few months ago, but had not been successful so far. You were excited to meet the rest of the legendary team. He always spoke fondly of them when he bought extra coffees to boost morale.

With that in mind, you quickly throw together the pastries and beverages he'd preordered for the start of their session and head in to do a quick check that everything was ready.

Like any meeting room, there was a large table in the center but you'd made sure to surround it with comfy and artfully mismatched chairs. The floor was a deep walnut colour and matched the numerous floating shelves which were covered in plants and books. The place was homey and extended the cosy chic look you had been trying to achieve throughout the shop.

After a little bit of organising, including making sure the FBI cables were accessible and tidying any of the Navy’s equipment, you head downstairs to the main space.

Charlotte and Jessica were behind the tills this morning, making quick work of the line and exuding friendly helpfulness out of every pore. They were both grad students and you were already dreading them graduating. Their natural effervescence would be impossible to replace.

To pass the time until your booking arrives, you catch up with NCIS Agent McGee who is on the coffee run, trying not to hold him up too long in case he ends up getting in more trouble with his big bad boss. Apparently Agent DiNozzo had knocked over Gibbs coffee but McGee had then slipped in it and done some minor damage to some of the equipment. He told you he much preferred coffee run to door knocking duty round a 6 block radius like DiNozzo.

As you wrap it up, a group of people enter the shop, led by a woman in colourful clothes and a sunshine demeanour. It's not until you see Agent Hotchner's suited and booted presence bringing up the rear that you realise this is the infamous BAU.

Donning your friendliest persona, you politely excuse yourself from McGee and head to greet them, calling Aaron's name across the way.

The profilers seem surprised by your use of their bosses name but quickly shake it off as introductions are made. You receive hand shakes off most of them with the exception of Penelope, who gives you a hug because of course she does, and Dr Spencer Reid who gives you a shy wave and looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.

It didn't take a profiler to see the physical distance between the genius and the rest of the group. He was always a step away from the nearest person and automatically avoided any physical contact from them.

How strange.

Brushing it off you lead them upstairs and get them settled, letting them know that they're welcome to come and go in the shop as need and that all their drinks would be added to the discounted tab and left them too it, all the while trying not to puzzle over the handsome loner and his cute sweater vest.

-----

If there was one thing Spencer Reid hated more than anything, it was team building.

Normally, back before everything happened, he would just grit his teeth and bear it. That's been a lot harder after finding out that Emily was alive.

Processing the joy at her being alive and the rage at being led to believe she was dead in the first place, particularly by the people he trusted the most, was not easy. He was trying to forgive them. He was trying to let it go, to accept the damage but move forward.

It was still a work in progress.

That's why, when Hotch announced a team building/meeting day, he had momentarily considered resigning. Though there was no longer outright hostility between himself and Jennifer, things weren’t exactly comfortable between himself and half of the team. The only bright side to this whole endeavour was the location. No coffee shop lasted long in Quantico unless the coffee was actually good. It was a small mercy.

He followed the rest of the team into the coffee shop, eyeing the surroundings and taking note of the other visitors. As the rest of the team joked about, he stayed back, simply waving at the nice owner of the shop when Hotch introduced them.

They appeared to be about his age which was very impressive considering the success of the café. And there were a couple of sci-fi references hidden in the décor that he would have loved to ask about, but he doubted they’d appreciate him going off about Star Trek this early in the morning. Instead he just gave a tight-lipped smile and followed the team upstairs.

Spencer tried his best to concentrate throughout the morning but to say he was relieved when they were left to their own devices for lunch would be an understatement.

-----

After a productive morning in the office, you wander back out to the main part of the shop to check on things. The lunch rush can be unforgiving but the girls seem to have it in hand. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Tuesday lunchtime.

What you didn’t expect to see was Spencer Reid hidden away at one of the back tables with a ginormous book in front of him, a small scowl on his face and the rest of his team nowhere in sight.

You agonise silently with yourself for a few moments before you decide to head over. You figure if he doesn’t want company he’ll let you know but you feel drawn to him. It was strange. Maybe it was just your instinctive need to collect strays.

You smile gently at him when you reach his table, indicating the seat opposite him in question. He gives a quick nod but doesn’t fully look at you.

“Everything ok?” you ask.

He takes a moment and seems to be considering his options. He looks at you with a little tilt of his head, likely questioning your motives.

Finally, he seems to decide you have no sinister intention and quietly replies “I just wish things could go back to how they were”.

You had heard about the events involving the BAU in the last year or so. It had been a hot topic of gossip in the shop numerous times. Aaron also occasionally talked about his guilt at what he put his team through when he stopped by, needing a friend to talk to. It’s the first time, however, that you think in depth about how faking a close friend's death likely affected the team members who were unaware.

This isn’t to say you didn’t care or didn’t think that it must have been terrible for them. You did, but had agreed with the justification that it was for Agent Prentiss’ safety, that finding out she was alive would make up for it. It’s apparent in the sadness of Dr Reid’s expression that that isn’t the case.

“Can I touch you?”

His eyes shoot up in surprise and he hesitantly nods. You gently grasp his hands, wrapping your fingers around his.

“I can’t even imagine,” you begin slowly, “how difficult this must be. But if you ever need to talk to someone, you’re always welcome here”

He gives a short, sharp nod and squeezes your fingers which you take to mean thank you.

“Also, this is totally not my place but, a therapist, one outside the Bureau? Might not be such a bad idea?” You give a sardonic grin and admit ” It worked for me”

After you give his hands another quick squeeze, you leave him to ponder your statement and head back to your office. Paperwork doesn’t do it self after all.

You hope Spencer manages to find some support though and decide that if he wants it, you’d be more than willing to help him.

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

It was a few weeks before Spencer Reid showed up in the coffee shop again.

It was early evening and you only had a few people in. You’d opted to close up tonight to ensure Jessica, who had been on the afternoon shift, had time to work on her assignment for class. She’d been complaining about it for the last few days.

The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your thoughts and you glance up to see who has entered. When you realise who it is you can’t help but smile.

“Fancy seeing you here Dr Reid” you say in greeting. He gives you a small smile in return.

“Well, it’s good coffee and, erm, the company’s good?”

You understand the question implicit in that comment and glance around at the few remaining patrons. They all have a beverage and it’s a quiet night so you can afford to take a step out behind the counter between orders.

“Sure, let me make us both a drink and then I’m all yours.”

You take his order (how much sugar?!?!) and get you both sorted out and settled into a small booth. You look at him, taking in the nervous expression on his face and let him settle in and start the conversation.

“I, erm, I took your advice”.

“That’s good. Are you finding it’s helping? Having someone outside of work to talk things through with?”

He nods his head.

“One of the things she pointed out was that so much of my life is wrapped up in work, that when things go wrong I don't have an external support system. Not that I didn't know that already but, someone else pointing it out made me realise how much if an impact it has.”

You bob your head thoughtfully, acknowledging his comment but not forcing him to say more.

“She suggested I try to find people outside of work to talk to. I was... I was wondering if you could be one?”

His nerves seem to have failed him slightly as he can’t look you in the eye, but you give him a big grin. Of course you want to spend time with this lovely man.

“I’d love to” you say, which gets him to look up and give you a smile in response.

You spend nearly an hour, with occasional breaks to serve customers, chatting to him before it becomes necessary to close up. He starts gathering his things but you’ve been enjoying his company so much you can’t bear to let him go. Instead, you check if he’s in a rush and, after confirming he has nothing else planned, invite him to hang around and grab something to eat from the diner down the street.

By the end of the night, you’re glad the diner is 24hr. You completely lose track of time, fascinated by the sheer amount of information he can provide and the passion with which he infodumps. It’s extremely endearing.

“I had a lovely time tonight” you tell him as you walk towards your apartment. You don’t live too far from the coffee shop and he had very gallantly offered to walk you home. “I’d love to do it again some time?”

He smiles and nods in agreement before asking for your phone number.

“I don't really like technology that much so I don’t have a smartphone and I don’t really check it that much and prefer speaking to texting…”

“Spence” you say, a little laugh in your voice as you interrupt. “Whatever works best for you. I’m not going to suddenly vanish on you, promise.”

You seem to have hit his worries a little too closely as he sways a little awkwardly, gaze wandering down to his feet.

“Can I hug you?” you check. His answer is to wrap his arms around you and you gently sway the both of you side to side.

He lets go and turns to head back out into the night as you call out “If you’re ever missing me, I know a place you can get great coffee. I can get you a good discount.” A laugh stutters from his lips and he wishes you a good night.

Leaning against your door you sigh happily to yourself. It’s always a good feeling making a new friend.

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

It had been over a year since the last time the BAU had booked (and managed to attend the booking). In that time, you’d converted another room upstairs into a meeting room, as well as setting up a shared work/study space in a room out the back.

You grin as you see them all enter, fascinated by the way this family of agents interact with each other. There’s even a tall, handsome genius who stands within the group, laughing and joking along with the rest.

Spencer greets you with a gentle kiss to your lips and it causes uproar from his colleagues. You don’t react much, you just turn to them and shrug.

“Do you know how many germs are passed in a handshake? It’s much safer to kiss.”

Your genius just laughs and wraps an arm around you, guiding the whole group upstairs, his friends playfully demanding details the whole way.

[puppetsoftomorrow]

the avalance news reader au

hey who said peer pressure doesn't work. anyway i made this post and y'all seemed to like it so here we go!! might post to ao3 later on idk...

It had been a truly terrible day.

Ava considered, in the moment that her coffee machine spluttered coughed up coffee grounds over her last clean shirt, that maybe she'd just had a truly terrible year. All her dreams about finally moving to television after being stuck in the doldrums of local news media for six years had been slashed when she'd been placed on the graveyard shift - sure, Ava was finally reading the news, but her shift was from 1AM until 4AM, so her only audience was long-distance truck drivers and new parents.

Still, she persevered, with the slightly foolish belief that if she worked hard enough, she could be promoted to a primetime slot. Or at least a slot that didn't require her to be making coffee at 10:45PM.

Her day had started off badly - she'd barely slept, as the sound from the construction work three blocks away rattled her windows, and she’d woken to find that her cat, Merlin, had kicked his litter halfway across the house in a fit of pique. Ava couldn't even have her normal oatmeal, as she was out of oat milk, and now she was having to drink her coffee black.

After changing her shirt to a dark dress and grimacing as she choked down the coffee, there was a knock on the door, and Ava groaned as she realised she was running late.

"Hey, Sara." She sighed.

Sara stood in the doorway, hair wavy over her shoulders, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie - the same grey hoodie she wore every day, branded with their news station's logo.

"Woah, a dress?" Sara said, eyebrows raised appreciatively, as Ava grabbed her coat and bag and they moved to go down the stairs.

"Don't mention it." Ava grumbled, pulling the coat around her shoulders.

"It looks good on you." Sara said, and Ava shot her a look. Sara mimed zipping her lips. "Do we have to time for Starbucks? I had to have black coffee; my mouth tastes like something died in it." Ava muttered, and Sara shrugged.

"I mean, we've arrived half an hour early for every shift for the past year -"

"Do you want to go back to taking the bus?" Ava said, looking over at her as they reached the lobby. They'd discovered they lived in the same building almost accidentally in Ava's first week, awkwardly meeting across the hall in the early morning, until Sara had realised that Ava had a car and they'd started riding in together.

"Fine, if you're happy with having bad angles." Sara said, holding the door open for her, and Ava rolled her eyes.

"Are you saying I have bad angles?"

"Oh, I'll find one." Sara muttered, and Ava snorted with laughter and unlocked the car. One of the benefits to giving her camera operator a ride every day was always having excellent angles.

After a stop at Starbucks, Ava rolled along the dark, quiet roads, sighing deeply.

"What's up?" Sara asked, sipping her drink - black coffee, which she somehow enjoyed.

"Nothing." Ava muttered, but it only took one look at Sara for her to come out with the story of her crappy day. Sara laughed.

"So that's why you're wearing the dress."

"That's what you're focusing on?" Ava said, focusing on the road with a small smile on her face. "I have to go back to my apartment at 5AM and clean up kitty litter and coffee grounds."

"Not to mention getting coffee out of your shirt." Sara snorted, and Ava groaned, loud and over the top.

///

They always split when they got to the studio, Ava marching off to make-up to get ready, and Sara taking the elevator to the studio floor to set up her camera. The studio was always dead past midnight, just a skeleton crew left, which Sara found she enjoyed - it was easier to know everyone that way. She waved at Nate, distracting him from where he was running through the weather, muttering under his breath and checking his perfectly coiffed hair in the camera. He waved back, a bright smile on his face.

Careful not to trip over any of the wires on the floor, Sara made her way up to the box above the studio, the cramped room filled from head to toe with blinking lights and buttons, with a large window so they could look down on the studio. The techs – Behrad and Charlie - were sat with headphones on, running through sound checks, so Sara just waved to them as she found who she was looking for.

Zari, the studio runner, was running through her clipboard, muttering under her breath. When she saw Sara coming, she rolled her eyes. "Back again?"

"What have you got for her today?" Sara asked, keeping her voice nonchalant.

"The usual. Some city councilor has been embezzling funds, Star City is readying to bid for the 2028 Olympics, and former mayor Queen is opening a patisserie down-town. It's been a quiet week."

"Exactly." Sara said, her grin widening. "You've got to add the cat one."

Ray, their head writer, had found a story a week ago about a fat cat attending the Star City pet spa to lose weight, and Sara had been tracking down clips of the poor thing, bribing the editor, Nora, to pull them together. She'd even written a script. Zari looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! I have a bet going with Mick - if I can get Ava to break on camera by the end of the month, he's got to give me $50." Sara said. It was ridiculous, she'd started the bet - truthfully, she found it endearing how Ava read the news with the same abject sternness whether she was covering a political scandal or a dog who'd learnt to surf in Star City Bay. She'd only broken her composure once - a smile creeping on her face when reporting on the 5th birthday of a crocodile at Star City Zoo named Snaps. From that day on, Sara had vowed to make her laugh, properly, live on air.

"I don't have any time to make up." Zari said, and Sara sighed.

"Yeah, but you know Ava reads quick enough. Please? For me?"

Zari seemed immune to the puppy eyes, so Sara sighed. "And I'll give you $20."

Zari snorted. "Do you have $20?"

"I'll have $50 when I win the bet." Sara countered, and Zari sighed.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Z, you're the best." Sara said with a grin, and turned to return to the studio floor.

///

The program went smoothly, like always. Sara liked her job, the focus of filming and the pride she got when she saw her own work on TV, but she liked it better when she was filming Ava, who had pretty much insisted from day one that Sara be her primary operator.

Ava looked especially pretty today, someone in make-up evidently having convinced her that she didn't need the bun today, and instead curled her hair over both shoulders, which didn't completely cover Ava's defined arms, visible in her sleeveless dress.

The night ran the same as most others, Ava transitioning smoothly between topics and engaging in light, courteous banter with Nate before he presented the weather. Sara looked at Ava during these moments, the five minutes she was off camera, where she looked down at her notes, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Okay, so maybe Sara wanted to make Ava laugh because she looked so pretty doing it. Sue her.

They were coming near the end, and Sara was losing hope that the story would be included, until she heard the segue.

"Now, in lighter news," Ava started, her eyebrows suddenly shooting up as she read the prompter. Sara grinned; Zari had obviously left this out of Ava's notes to inspire more of a reaction.

"Cats," Ava blurted out, steadying herself before continuing, "they're not normally known for their love of swimming, but one feline in Star City is hitting the water instead of the gym in a bid to lose weight. Mr. Snuggles -" Ava bit her lip as the pictures played on the monitor - a black and white cat in a life vest, looking absolutely terrified, and Sara grinned. "Mr. Snuggles is a thirteen-year-old cat who - dislikes the outdoors and other physical activities."

Sara's grin widened as Ava lost it, barely making it through her lines through her giggles. Her face was flushing pink and she bit her lip to try and compose herself. "But with encouragement from his owner -" Ava pressed on, trying to hold herself together, "Mr. Snuggles had lost one pound in six months."

That was the final straw, as Ava descended into a full-on laugh, barely making it through her sign off. Sara was so distracted by the sound she nearly missed Zari's voice in her ear. "Camera 1 to Camera 3 in 3, 2, 1 -"

Sara switched off, but not before Ava snorted, flushing even deeper and covering her face with her hands at the sound, not disguised by the jingle from the lottery numbers playing across the screen.

///

Ava had bolted from the set, and Sara packed up her equipment as quickly as possible, ducking out just in time to catch Ava as she walked down the corridor to the lobby. Her face was now free of make-up, her hair tied up in a messy bun, but she was still in the dress that left Sara's mouth a little dry. She looked at Sara, blushing again.

"I can't believe you did that." She groaned, and Sara put on her most innocent face on.

"Did what?"

"Bribed Zari to put the cat story in! John in make-up said that Charlie had told him that you'd bribed Zari."

"To win $50!" Sara said, grinning. "And you have a really cute laugh."

Ava looked up; eyebrow furrowed. "Really?"

"Yep." Sara said, trying to play it cool. "Look, do you want half? I feel bad now."

Ava sighed. "No, it's okay."

"I could buy you dinner." Sara said, almost blurting it out, and Ava looked at her. "To make up for it."

Ava's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Uh - yeah, okay. I can do dinner."

~the end~

okay so this was fun to write and i kind of want to write more so uhh send me where u think this story should go. or ideas for a part 2 maybe. thanks for reading!!

[misssophiachase]

Under Your Skin

Happy B’Day, @galvanizedfriend I am LATE, soooo LATE but this means the birthday celebrations just continue, right? I have a friend who celebrates her birthday for the whole month so....  

I made you a little thing in honour of this auspicious occasion (also, please tell me you got cake on the day, otherwise I will send you some lamingtons). This is part 1 with part 2 on its way. 

Thank you also to the lovely and talented @diaz-eddie for making sense of my pics and putting them together when I couldn’t. 

(Nik)

Monday

“Get your ass out here pronto, Nik!”

Who needs the snooze button when his employee is threatening to knock down the door with nothing but her fist. He’s seen Anna in action on her roller derby team and is fairly certain she can kick his ass today and probably into next week as well.

He begrudgingly leaves the warmth and comfort of his bed dressed in nothing but fitted, grey boxers but instead of answering the door he decides to make a detour. Eyes still firmly closed, he makes his way blindly to the bathroom and splashes some much-needed water on his face at the basin.

“You realise we can hear you, right? There’s no amount of pampering that’s going to make that face pretty enough, Niklaus,” he winces, knowing she’s using the full version of his name to invoke his absent sister on purpose.

Apparently Anna has recruited Lexi to torment him as well. Given her mixed martial arts training he doesn’t want to mess with her either. All he needs now is…

“Afraid of some girls, Mikaelson?”

Like clockwork, Bonnie makes up the trio. Given her psychic abilities of course she knows he’s afraid of them. She practices magic, probably has a list of his future mistakes documented for blackmail purposes and may or may not have a voodoo doll with his name on it.

Growing up he thought having Rebekah as a sibling was tough but now he has three more and all are ready to converge on him as soon as he opens the door. It’s lucky he decided against giving them keys. Granted he’s their boss and lives upstairs from his establishment but Nik isn’t a fan of the sleeping with one eye open concept.

“We have an incredibly opinionated, talkative and highly-strung person who would like to make a formal complaint to the owner about a certain tattoo from the weekend. Also, Enzo called her gorgeous and let’s just say it didn’t go down too well.”

“Oi! I can hear you, Bennett, given I’m standing right here. In my defence, Niklaus, she is gorgeous and what woman doesn’t love a compliment?”

His friend from college in Rhode Island, while being extremely talented, has little-to-no customer service skills. Nik also, rather unfortunately, noticed a spark between him and his younger sister during her last visit and has been trying to block it from his memory ever since.

“Uh, when they’re making a complaint and are seriously pissed. I say we muzzle him for good,” Anna offers.

“I second that,” Lexi agrees.

Nik wonders if any of his employees actually work given their current and incessant bickering at his front door. He decides then and there a move might be a good option.

Like most, Monday is his least favourite day of the week but he’s fairly certain it isn’t for the same reason. Nik likens it to the moment a weekend hangover finally passes and clarity makes an unwelcome return, complete with a litany of regrets.

Being owner of one of the top tattoo studios at Venice Beach, Nik doesn’t see tattoos as regrets. Far from it. He has a plethora, all telling a story.

His story.

The good, the bad and the downright ugly.

Unfortunately, others don’t see it the same way, much like the person downstairs ready to ruin his day and all before he’s ingested some much-needed caffeine.

“Happy Monday to me,” he mutters, not bothering to look in the mirror before scrambling to find some clothes.

Ten minutes later he appears in his usual uniform of fitted jeans and a suitably hued henley, probably more disheveled than he’d like but given his unorthodox wake up call, it’s hardly surprising.

As he makes his way down each step toward the studio floor, his eyes immediately dart towards an impatient looking blonde at the front desk. Blonde waves caressing her shoulders, pink lips and blue eyes that perfectly match her shirt. She’s standing there impatiently while tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the front desk.

He isn’t blind, she’s beautiful, but at the same time there is something in her eyes and overall body language that spells the bad news he’s expecting. He’s disappointed but when their eyes lock, he does his best not to betray his real feelings.

This is business, after all.

“Well, finally,” she snaps. Even with that frown, he’s trying to reconcile the fact she’s complaining but he’s extremely attracted to her at the same time. “I’ve only been waiting for fifteen minutes. I hope you enjoyed your sleep-in while I’ve been languishing out here.”

“Thank you, I did,” he murmurs lazily, noting the way she purses those lips while her eyebrows rise curiously. “So, what can I help you with Ms…”

“Forbes,” she utters and he doesn’t miss the way she fumbles something so easy as her surname. It’s cute, but he isn’t supposed to think that. He’s also not supposed to be perusing just how well she wears fitted denim either.

Read the rest on AO3 HERE

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Out of the House

Series summary: Ever the paranormal enthusiast Remus is excited when he finds an abandoned house creepy enough to have ghosts in it with no chance of being caught trespassing. He quickly finds himself in over his head however when his fantasies come true, fighting to solve a mystery with the only possible outcome being losing someone he comes to love.

Platonic dukexiety focus

This series was created for dukexiety week 2021. I’m posting after but here is the list of prompts!

Chapter 1: I’ll be Here by Day

Chapter Summary: When Remus gets them kicked out of the library, he takes Logan and Janus with him to an old, abandoned house as a new study location. This don’t go to plan as Remus is confronted with something he didn’t think was possible.

Pairings: Platonic Dukexiety (Remus & Virgil), background Lociet (Logan x Janus)

Day 1 Prompt: Myths/Supernatural

Warnings: mild swearing, mild sexual innuendos, injury mention, paranormal events. If there are others please let me know!

WC: 2873

AO3 link

Main masterlist

“Do you mind?” Remus grinned as his platforms were slowly but surely nudged off the chair, Logan's nose scrunched in disgust as ze examined the dirt on zir pencil. “Highly unsanitary.”

“It’ll help your immune system.” Long fingers reached over to flick at the pages of whatever book Logan had had zir nose buried in for the better part of an hour. He snapped them back with a yelp however as his knuckles were rapped hard with the pointy end of the No. 2.

“That's if you eat it Remus, and such sentiments are usually reserved for children to placate parents when they can’t keep their spawn from shoving every little thing into their mouths-”

“Well if you wanted to lick my boots Logan you just had to ask.” Remus waggled tiks eyebrows suggestively, grinning wide as the other turned beat red.

“I AM NOT-”

“Logan, honey, volume. And Remus stop being gross we invited you here to study not air our desperation.” Janus’ quiet drawl diffused the situation immediately as both parties screwed their mouths to the side and looked away. Remus heard the librarian huff and stalk away with furious clicks of his heels, no doubt miffed at the missed chance to kick them out for the third time that week.

“Jannie Jan. J-anus. Jan-ass. Jan-assist me with this b-”

“Afternoon Remus. New piercing already?”

Nodding excitedly, Remus leaned over Logan’s books, ignoring the put upon sigh behind him and staring at the redhead with wide eyes. Janus smirked as he watched the other’s eyebrows jump up and down, the fluorescent bulbs of the library catching the two studs placed right at the end of the left brow that morning.

“Looks nice. I like the green.”

“Remus if you keep doing those yourself you’re going to get an infection. Please, I’ve told you so many times I know the tattoo artist down the street, I can get you discount piercings.” 

Remus craned his neck nearly all the way around, a manic grin thrown over tiks shoulder as Logan stared at him in horror. “Awe you like meeeeee.” 

Shooting Janus the “it’s your turn look” while being bumped repeatedly in the shoulder by Remus’ swaying hips Logan pressed zir mouth into a thin line as the return eyebrow raise of “you owe me for last time” was shot right back. Rolling zir eyes Logan shoved back with zir shoulder sending Remus right back in the chair.

“You.” Logan hissed. “Are going to get us kicked out again. I quite enjoy this library, so take this and for the love of god stay relatively quiet!”

So saying a silicone sword on a string was pressed into Remus’ hands, who inspected the obnoxiously green object for a moment before shrugging and shoving it into his mouth. “Long and thick, I like it.”

The undignified snort Janus didn’t quite manage to cover followed by a shriek as his shins were kicked from under the table was enough to teleport the librarian over to them. Glaring down his nose at the two properly chastised of the group and the one currently grinning like an idiot he pointed aggressively towards the door in a way that dared them to argue.

“Out.”

“Yes ma’am.” Logan and Janus muttered as they collected their things. Remus jumped up with a salute that received an icy glare stern enough to freeze if Remus had actually been paying attention- as it was tik merely swung his pack up and over tiks shoulder nearly hitting the man in the process. A final self satisfied huff and a slammed door later found all three of them kicking pebbles on the sidewalk, put out and annoyed but certainly not surprised.

“Remus, I care for you a great deal but at the moment I would like to yeet you into the road.” Logan turned to Janus slightly. “Usage?”

Ignoring Remus’ giggling, Janus nodded. “It’s correct.”

“We could go to your flat?” Logan asked hopefully, wilting as Janus shook his head.

“Roommates are having their own study session and between Remus’...” Janus paused and watched as the other tried to snap a bug into his book, nearly snapping his nose as tik tripped in the process. “...Remus and my more distracting noises I don’t think we’d be welcome back just yet.”

“They could just wear headphones.” Logan muttered, clearly annoyed.

“Yes well, not everyone understands vocal stims and I don’t want to get into another argument with them about it. I rather enjoy my flat and if I could continue to live in it that would be lovely.”

“I know a place!” Remus jumped suddenly between them. “I found it last week looking for-”

“Remus we are not studying in a graveyard or a morgue or a house you think is haunted. I understand your love of ghosts but-”

“This one’s really nice I promise!” Remus interrupted, giving Logan puppy eyes that had zir rolling zir eyes yet again. “It’s in that weird in between of broken down enough that no one wants it but not enough that the government or whatever wants to step in yet...so I think technically no one owns it?”

“Is that how that works?” Janus turned to Logan curiously.

Logan opened zir mouth to argue, finger already in the “in fact it isn’t” position before pausing to consider. “I- I’d like to say no but I don’t know enough about property rights in this state to argue.”

“In this state?” Janus’ question was ignored in favor of Logan blocking Remus’ book from slamming into zir nose.

“It’s safe?” Janus asked instead.

“Yeah! Well-” Remus mumbled around tiks chewelry, tugging the book out of Logan’s grip and stuffing it uncaringly into tiks bag. “Just don’t go on the second floor I guess...stairs look a bit not great. But! It doesn’t have a basement so the first floor is safe! And most of the windows are broken so it doesn’t smell or anything.”

“....and we’re taking those as good points and moving on. Logan?”

Pinching the bridge of zir nose and pushing zir blue tinted hair out of zir face, Logan eyed the man currently bouncing up and down in excitement and nearly jostling the papers out of tiks open backpack. Smiling fondly ze shrugged. “If it's quiet I don’t see why-”

“Yes! Come on, I know a shortcut!”  

Janus and Logan watched as Remus took off at a sprint, using the momentum to throw his pack over the fence and picking up half the papers that flew out of it before hopping it tikself. Scooping most of his things back up he continued running across the residentials backyards and turning out of sight around the far corner.

Holding his hand out Janus smiled wryly. “I know which house he’s talking about, it isn’t far. Sidewalk or yards?”

“The sidewalk is better- I can’t hold your hand trying to hop a fence.” So saying Logan slipped zir hand into the others’, but not before smugly observing his reddening cheeks.

“Sap.”

“No, a flirt?” Holding in his laughter, Janus tugged Logan along, walking faster than normal in the hopes that the wind would cool his face. 

-----

“Ta-da!” Remus twirled in the entryway, flinging his bag to the side of the hall as tik did. Sneezing in the resulting dust he quickly shuffled back further into the house. The space had probably been a living room before the previous owners moved, though as it stood now it seemed even the house had forgotten what it once was. Old, warped floorboards held only water damage as memories, groaning and giving slightly when anyone stepped on them. As it was they protested heavily as Remus uncaringly rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting for the others to actually step inside. 

“You’re sure this is safe?” Logan cautioned as ze stepped gingerly around a pile of plaster that had long since crumbled off the wall by the door.

“Oh absolutely! Nothing’s fallen on me yet that wasn't already on the floor when I got here.” Tik paused as tik glanced towards the stairs- rickety, broken things that looked like blowing a fan in their direction would collapse them- and winced. “Just...don’t use the stairs. I put my foot through the first one by accident trying to explore the other day.”

“Of course you did.” Janus sniffed, looking them up and down before he stopped to squint at the top. It looked like they led to a hallway that turned a corner to the rest of the second floor, a small window letting in a meager amount of sunlight through the dirty glass. The hallway and resulting corner was shrouded in half shadow that made shapes dance around the edges and goosebumps race up and down his arms. Only half paying attention to whatever Remus and Logan were currently arguing about, he took a step closer to the staircase, back tensing even if he couldn’t make anything out that could be triggering such a response. 

Squinting harder he tilted his head trying to get a better angle from his vantage point at the very bottom of the steps. The shadows seemed to shift every so slightly right at the turn of the wall that would lead into the hallway, making him blink and step back in surprise. Hackles raised in earnest now he frantically searched up and down the stairway and everywhere he could see of the upper landing but there was no more movement in any direction. The top of the steps however was brighter now, as if the dirty panes had only been a trick of dust in his eyes. Now it was simply slightly smeared glass- nevertheless letting sunlight through cheerily and letting it shine halfway down the steps- hardly a trace of shadow to be found in what he could have sworn was a dingy landing only moments before. 

“Hey Jannie Jan you good? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“...Remus, you’re sure this house is empty? You never heard anything or saw any- I don’t know empty wrappers or anything?” Stepping fully away from the stairs Janus turned towards Remus and gripped the straps of his backpack tight enough to bruise his fingers.

“No, why? I mean- no one else is here. I’ve spent a few days exploring this place and hanging out, there’s just the first floor which is pretty clean other than well,” he gestured around at the wallpaper, plaster and dust littering the floor, along with the broken glass shoved carefully back underneath the windows. “And the second floor I already said I couldn’t get to and I doubt anyone else could even if they wanted to. I never heard anything other than what I think is a mouse or squirrel or something in the wall over there.”

“That doesn’t completely eradicate the possibility of squatters in the building but considering the state of the place I’d say it’s very unlikely.” Logan nodded at Remus before turning back to peer at Janus curiously. “I would assume that was what you were implying, Janus. Are you alright?”

Janus screwed his mouth to the side, considering just dropping the subject or lying to save face somewhat. Just as he was about to snark out something about watching too many of Remus’ cheesy ghost hunting shows, a wave of dread so solid it left him breathless slammed into him. Ice filled his veins and his legs tensed as every reflex in his body told him in no uncertain terms to run before it was too late. 

“I want to leave.”

“What, why?” Remus quickly jogged over to where Janus was reaching for the door handle, Logan hot on his heels.

“I don’t want to get arrested for trespassing! And this place-” He turned around and glanced to the stairs again. “It doesn’t feel right. I’d rather brave my roommates.”

“Are you scared?” Remus asked incredulously.

“No!” Whirling around the other man locked eyes with Logan. “You agree with me right?”

Logan twisted h=zir fingers for a moment, not looking at either of them. “It does feel odd I suppose.” 

“Then that’s that then! Stay in your creepy house if you want Remus, we’re leaving.” So saying Janus grabbed up Logan’s hand and bag, practically dragging zir out the door. 

Remus stood inside the doorway for a moment before tiks shoulders slumped and tik turned back inside. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy to fix them getting kicked out of the library...again. The house was creepy sure but it had been abandoned for who knows how long and was falling in on itself, what had they expected?

Idly he kicked at a loose nail and sent it skittering across the floor towards the stairs. Tik hadn’t ever felt scared in this house- not even when his weight snapped the first step and he thought he’d be stuck in the house until tiks body rotted through the hole he’d made. A less favorable thought sure but not one tik wasn’t familiar enough with to hold it against the house. Huffing he flopped down against the far wall and drug tiks bag over to tik, fishing around for his phone so he could apologize to Janus and Logan and hope they weren’t too mad at tik...again.

He nearly dropped his phone when something bounced off the back of it, clattering to the floor between tiks feet. He leaned forward to see...a nail? Raising his eyebrow tik looked up to the stairs while flicking the nail towards them, searching for the one he had kicked but seeing nothing other than dust. The one tik flicked bounced off the bottom step and spun for a minute before stopping suddenly just a few inches away. Remus slowly lowered his phone and watched it curiously, the hairs on his arms standing in alarm but refusing to eat tikself actually be scared. It was a nail- an old rusty one at that- and the house was old with its windows smashed through. The air currents were probably playing around with-

There was a slight pain in his outer ear and tik flinched to the side to see what bug had bit him. Instead he saw a nail embedded into the wall, still quivering slightly with the force it had apparently been shot with. Swallowing nervously tik glanced back to the stairs searching frantically for the one he had seen not five seconds ago only to see nothing but dust once again. 

“Okay.” He exhaled shakily and stood up, pocketing his phone and grabbing up tiks bag. “Yeah, okay. So- ghost right? Listen, I love being nailed as much as the next person but-”

He was cut off with small, unassuming jingling sounds, almost sounding like hail hitting the outside of a window. The sun was still shining brightly however, despite the rapidly declining temperature inside and he began to look around in earnest to make out what the sound was. Tik had always told himself that if tik ever had an experience like this he’d be sure to catch it in camera- and none of the shaky handed blurry footage shit everyone else tried to pass off thank you very much Logan- but at the moment his phone was forgotten in a white-knuckled grip. He watched as bits of glass slid over the worn floors with enough force to gouge the wood, jingling merrily on their way to a rapidly darkening staircase with shadows dripping like black mold from the second floor above.

Tik could do nothing but stand frozen even as every instinct and shred of common sense he had ever had screamed at tik to turn and run while he still could. The glass whirled around a shape in the middle of the stairs, a ball of shadow descending step by step that seemed to stare through him though tik couldn’t see any indication the thing had eyes. His vision tunneled and distantly he was aware tiks breathing had picked up- mildly concerning considering the microscopic pieces of glass ripping through the air- everything narrowing down to this one moment. This one entity that without a shred of doubt in Remus’ mind he knew wanted him dead. 

“G̸̮̗̘͔͔̖̕E̴̛͚̣͖͇̗͙̺̭̔̈́̂̀̈́̔̕͠͝͝T̵̨̜̹̲̬̦͕͇͒̓͒̀͑ ̵͕͖̳̱͎͕̝̥̐̉͗̃Ǒ̵̡͎̥̣̳̙̜̜͓̠̲͍̿̐͐̎́̓̽̊͘͘͜͝͠Ṷ̶̢̟̠͙̯̱̝̠̹̪͚̠̽̇̄́͌̔̀̌͠͝T̸͎͐̆̐!̵͉́̅̋̑͑̈̀̈́̄!̷̰̈́̀̑̾͌̊” 

The force of the distorted voice rattled the walls and sent plaster raining down onto Remus, who finally felt his legs twitch just as tik felt the first pinpricks of glass against his face. Wasting not a second more he turned on tiks heel and tripped tiks way through the entry hall and out the door, hearing it slam shut behind him as he hopped the fence and took off down the road faster than tik had ever run in his life. Shocked gasps rushed past his lips as tik just kept pumping his legs and let tikself be led on autopilot all the way to his apartment, bursting through the door and slamming it behind him. Heavy breaths filled the short hall and he slumped to the floor, mildly surprised when his phone thunked to the floor in front of tik. 

“Holy shit.” He whispered, tiks head thumping heavily into the door behind him.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Next

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[xoxobuckybarnes]

The Last Ride

January 14, 2013. Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago make a bet, hoping to prove once and for all who is the best detective of the 99th Precinct. Jake bets his car, because losing the “chick magnet’ (as Charles insists it is), would be the worst thing in the world for Jake. For Amy? The worst thing in the world would be being one of those chicks in Jake’s car.

But, when Amy wins the bet, one year later, she still finds herself as one of those chicks in Jake’s car. Is it really the worst thing in the world?

Written for @stolethekey for #b99summer2021ficexchange

You can also read it on AO3

Chapter One: The Win

Amy ran into the precinct, grabbing a perp by the back of his shirt, her breathing heavy. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” she announced. “I present Carl Laudson, who stole $3,000.” She looked down at her watch to confirm the time before triumphantly continuing. “Santiago takes the lead with one minute left. Suck it, Peralta.”

Exactly one year ago, Jake and Amy made a bet to see who could get the most felony arrests, thus proving once and for all who was the better detective. Jake bet his car, his most cherished possession in the world. Charles insisted that losing such a total “chick magnet” would be the worst thing in the world for Jake. Thus, since being “one of those chicks in Jake’s car” would be the worst thing in the world for Amy, if Jake won, she would have to go on the worst date in the world with him. There was no way she was going to lose. Unfortunately, Jake had the same intensity about winning.

All year long, they had been going back and forth. As of this morning, they were tied. Both got to work, doing everything possible to take the lead. Amy couldn’t believe that she was about to win.

“Oh no,” Jake responded, panicked.

“That’s right ‘oh no.’”

Jake started grabbing folders from his desk, urgently flipping through them, hoping to find something, anything. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Not going to happen. Time to admit defeat in 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1! Your car is mine. Hand over the keys,” Amy victoriously demanded.

“This can’t be happening,” Jake moaned, reluctantly handing over his keys to Amy. Just as she was about to take the keys from him, he snatched his hand back. “Please, can I just have one last night with my car? I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to her.”

Amy furrowed her brows. “I don’t know if I trust you…”

Jake placed both hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look right at him. “I promise, I’ll give you the car. You won the bet, fair and square, and I’m not one to be a sore loser.” (Amy raised her eyebrows in disbelief at that). “I just want one last night so I can really say goodbye.”

Amy looked at Jake intensely. He looked so sincere, a trait that was not common for Jake. Although she didn’t know what it was about that hunk of junk that Jake loved so much, she did know that he needed one last night of memories. She shrugged his hands off her shoulders. “Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

A wide grin spread across Jake’s face. “Deal!”

Chapter Two: The Stakeout

Several hours later, Jake picked up Amy in his car.

“So, what do you have planned for tonight?” Amy asked as she slid into the passenger’s seat.

“First, we’ll stop at Shaw’s for Charles’ party,” Jake explained. “Then, I thought we could take a drive upstate. Just see where the road takes us.”

“Awesome.”

The whole squad was at Shaw’s celebrating Charles. Earlier in the day, he had been honored by the NYPD for his bravery when he jumped in front of a bullet heading straight for Rosa just last month. Unfortunately, Charles had fallen off the stage while taking pictures. To relieve himself from the pain, he upped his pain medication, which had the amusing effect of making him very honest.

“Jake! Amy! So glad you stopped by,” Charles greeted them enthusiastically. Jake acknowledged Charles with a nod and then headed to the bar to get a drink for him and Amy, leaving her alone with Charles. Charles leaned in closer to Amy, raised his eyebrows and whispered, “You and Jake look so good together.”

Amy did not appreciate the weird look that Charles was giving her, insinuating that Jake and she made a cute couple. Jake was one of her best friends. She loved hanging out with him and competing with him at work. But he was irresponsible and messy and immature. While she did think he was attractive and had once had a small crush on him when they first met, now that she knew him better, there was no way she’d let their relationship be anything more than friendship.

She was relieved when Jake rejoined them, handing her a beer.

Charles wiggled his eyebrows as he said, “I’ll leave you two alone,” in an unpleasantly high-pitched tone.

Jake looked at Amy confused. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Amy insisted before quickly changing the subject. “So, shall we go find a seat?”

She followed Jake to a table where they sat with Gina and Rosa. They talked about memories in Jake’s car, sharing both fun and horror stories. Just as Jake and Amy were getting ready to leave, the Captain called Jake over.

“So, small change in plans,” Jake said, walking back over to Amy. “Duty calls before we take off on our road trip.”

Half an hour later, Amy found herself sitting in Jake’s car in a sketchy side street staking out a warehouse.

“Sorry our road trip has been delayed,” Amy said to Jake. “But it’s still your last night with the car. Come sunrise, I’m the proud owner.”

Jake nodded. “Well, at least I’m still getting a night in the car. A stakeout is still a pretty awesome way to say goodbye.”

“I’m glad you think that,” Amy replied.

Amy looked around the street they were on. It was pretty dark, and it was hard to see anything. She was a little nervous that they’d miss the suspects because they couldn’t see very well. Clearly Jake was thinking the same thing.

“Hey, those people left that door open.” Jake nodded towards the building across the street from the one they were staking out. “I bet there’s a better vantage point from the roof.”

“Hmm. And I bet it doesn’t smell like old cheese,” Amy said, taking a low blow at Jake’s car.

“Okay, that’s hurtful,” Jake said. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” Amy responded, keen to get out of the car.

Up on the roof, Amy found two crates. She carried them close to the edge of the roof and placed them down for her and Jake to sit on.

Jake, who was standing higher up on the roof declared, “Man, I don’t know how Batman does it. It is super scary up here.”

Amy laughed at Jake’s confession as he called out, “Hey, will you grab the binoculars? They’re in my stakeout bag.”

Amy rummaged through his bag, searching for his binoculars. “You’re stake out bag is 98% nuts,” she informed him.

“I get snacky,” Jake argued. “Besides, nuts are super healthy. They’re like 0% fat.”

“Jake, that’s not true at all. It’s actually the opposite.”

“What! That nut vendor lied to me?” Jake retorted in mock outrage.

Amy laughed. Jake was a grown man. How could he be so uninformed about the world? If it wasn’t so sad, she might have found his cluelessness endearing.

Jake held up the binoculars to his eyes. Amy looked closely out onto the street below them, taking in every detail of the area that she could, looking for anything suspicious going on.

“I think a pigeon just flew out of your car,” she informed Jake.

“Yeah,” Jake responded, not sounding surprised. “The windows don’t exactly roll up.”

Amy took a deep breath, wondering if she should tell Jake what she was thinking, about how awful his, or rather her, car was. Deciding there was nothing to lose by stating her honest opinion, she declared, “The car’s a piece of crap. Why do you love it so much?”

Jake sighed. Amy knew he was about to tell a story.

“You really want to know?”

She nodded.

“I was two days out of the academy, super nervous. I saw this guy run out of a bodega clutching a bunch of cash. So, I pursued him, on foot. Eleven blocks. Finally catch him, cuff him, throw him up against that car. Turned out there was a ‘for sale’ sign in the window. And it being the best day of my life, I bought it. Thus, began the debt.”

“’Crushing debt,’” Amy corrected him, recalling his words a year ago when they had made the bet.

Jake nodded enthusiastically and smiled as he replied, “Yeah. You do know me.”

She found Jake’s story about his beloved car heartwarming. For a moment, he had been vulnerable with her, admitting to being nervous, an emotion she had never known him to experience. Sure, it was stupid to go into debt over a car, especially one that was such a piece of shit. But, in Jake’s situation, it was pretty sweet. For the first time since she’d know him, she saw a sincere side of Jake. She couldn’t help but find it the tiniest bit attractive.

“Nut?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thought she’d just had.

“Only if you throw it,” Jake insisted.

“Ready? Ready?” she asked, preparing to toss a nut towards Jake.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed.

She threw it and he caught it in his mouth with ease. “Nice.”

Amy held the bag out towards Jake, and he took a nut. “Ready?”

“Uh-uh.”

Jake tossed the nut into the air. Amy tried her best, turning her head to the side. Ultimately, she failed to catch it in her mouth. Jake started laughing. “What are you doing? Trying to catch it in your nose?”

Amy laughed too, catching onto Jake’s contagious laughter.

Confident that she could catch a nut in her mouth, she declared, “I got it. I got it. I got it.”

They were interrupted by Jake’s phone ringing. He stood up and walked away as he said, “All right. It’s Holt. Keep practicing.”

Amy took another nut out of the bag, and threw it up into the air, again, failing to catch it. She took one more nut, trying, and failing yet again. Suddenly, she had an idea, she grabbed a handful of nuts and tossed them all in the air. Surely, she was bound to catch one of them. She was quite pleased with herself when she managed to get a nut in her mouth.

“What did Holt want?” Amy asked as Jake rejoined her.

“Just checking in. How you doing? Any progress?”

Amy was excited to show off to Jake her new ability to catch a nut in her mouth. “Yep, watch.”

She tossed her handful of nuts into the air, catching several of them this time.

“The key is volume,” she said, her mouth full.

Jake smirked. “I see that.”

After several more turns of tossing nuts back and forth to each other, Jake said, “So, be honest. Are you really gonna destroy my car?”

Amy smiled, thinking back on the week. She had constantly implied that she would cause damage against the car, even pretending to find out how she could light it on fire, hoping that the threat of not just losing the ownership of the car, but that the car would physically be gone, would distract Jake from beating her at the bet. Clearly, her strategy had succeeded.

Amy looked closely at Jake. She noticed the slightest tremor in his jaw, his eyes wide with concern. She could tell that he was genuinely concerned about the future status of his car. Now that she knew how much it meant to him, she felt bad about the threats she had made earlier this week.

Again, Amy felt herself feeling a new emotion towards Jake, one that she wasn’t 100% comfortable with. But his vulnerability and sincerity made him more attractive to her.

Ignoring her current confusion of feelings, Amy shook her head. “No, I’m gonna drive it. So, I can learn stick.”

Jake jerked his head towards Amy so fast she was surprised he hadn’t snapped it.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. I will,” she teased. “It’ll be like…” Amy started making screeching noises, indicating that she’d intentionally damage the car in her careless attempts to drive it.

“No, no…” Jake suddenly stopped protesting Amy’s mocking as he grabbed at her arm, calling her attention to the action on the street. “Hey, hey.”

Jake pulled Amy down so that they were both crouching on the ground. Amy peered out over the edge, where she saw a truck backing up to the docking station of the building across the street.

“There’s our guys,” Jake said, pointing at the truck that had pulled up down the block from where they were parked.

“What’s the play here?”

“Uhhh…” Jake hesitated.

Amy looked around them, looking for any bit of inspiration. She spotted Jake’s rundown car. Suddenly she had an idea. “Follow my lead.”

Amy took the keys out of Jake’s stakeout bag before she threw the bag to him. She led him down to the car and popped the hood. “Seriously,” she yelled at him. Jake looked confused, so Amy continued. “I told you the car was gonna die. It’s a piece of crap.”

Jake nodded, the slightest hint of a smile displayed on his face before he put his game face on. “Of course, my car is a piece of crap. All my stuff is crap. You have to criticize everything I own, or say, or do,” he barked back, throwing the bag into the back seat with a slam of the door.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw the men at the truck sneaking glances at her and Jake. They would have to get louder, make it impossible for these guys to continue to ignore them.

“Well, when you don’t take care of your shit, we end up in these situations,” she shouted, raising her voice.

“Jeez, I guess I can’t do anything right,” Jake hollered back at her.

Finally, one of the men approached them. “Excuse me,” he said, tentatively. “Is everything alright here?”

“No,” Amy snapped at him. “My boyfriend here didn’t check the car like I told him to.”

Amy had not meant to say ‘boyfriend.’ Honestly. She was just going to pretend that Jake was her friend. That’s all. Where had the word ‘boyfriend’ come from?

“You need a jump?” the guy asked.

Amy looked to Jake and gave a nod. “Yes.”

Jake took over from there, pulling his gun out from the back of his pants. “But first, NYPD, on the ground, you’re under arrest.”

Amy looked over at Jake and smiled. “Nice job.”

“Thanks, you too.” Jake smiled back at Amy.

“Oh snap,” the guy reacted, putting his hands behind his head and kneeling down on the ground. “I’m sad you’re all arresting me, but I gotta say, I’m glad you’re not actually fighting. You all make a cute couple.”

There it was again – the insinuation that she and Jake were a couple. Not even just a couple, but a good one. This time was more alarming though than Charles’ suggestion. Charles knew and loved both Jake and Amy. His insistence that they would be a good couple could just be explained by a man wanting two of his best friends to be happy together. This guy though, well, he didn’t know Jake and Amy, and yet, he saw something between them.

By the time they got the guys to the precinct and completed all the paperwork, it was early in the morning. Jake and Amy were expected back at the precinct for their next shift in only a few hours. A road trip was out of the question.

Jake left the keys on Amy’s desk before he snuck out of the precinct without even saying goodbye. She hadn’t even noticed that he did it. She felt bad that he didn’t get his last night with his car, but she admired his commitment and that he stayed true to his word.

Early the next morning, Captain Holt called Amy into his office. “Good job on the stake out. I’m glad to see you two still work well together despite that ridiculous bet.”

Amy smiled at the Captain’s praise. “Thanks. Me, too.”

“And, I appreciate you turning down the relief team. I’m not sure they could’ve made that bust.”

Amy was confused, unsure about what the Captain was talking about. What relief team? All of a sudden, it dawned on her. That must have been the real reason the Captain had called last night. He wasn’t checking up on them, he was offering another team so that they could get back to Jake’s last night with his car. By why had Jake refused the relief team? He loved his car and she could tell that he really wanted one last night to fill with memories. Why would he trade in that night for one of paperwork?

“Yeah. Right. The relief team.”

Amy left the Captain’s office and paused, looking at Jake. She had the next two days off, and she was positive that Jake also had the same time off. She might have won the bet and now been the fair winner of Jake’s car, but she knew what she had to do. Walking past Jake’s desk, she dropped the keys in front of him.

“Huh?” Jake asked, picking up the keys and tossing them back on Amy’s desk. “You won. The car is yours. Fair and square.”

Amy tossed the keys back to Jake. “I promised you one last road trip with your car, and you didn’t get it. We’re both off tomorrow, I figured we could take your road trip this weekend.”

Jake beamed. “Okay, thanks.”

Amy couldn’t help but beam back. She couldn’t explain why Jake’s joy was making her so happy right now.

Chapter Three: The Road Trip

Thirty-six hours after he was initially meant to give Amy his car, Jake rolled up to her apartment building, ready for one last road trip. Amy heard him honking from her bedroom. She grabbed her backpack and went to meet him outside.

“Yo!” he shouted out the driver’s seat window.

“Yo!” she yelled back as she walked over to the car. After settling into the passenger seat, Jake took off. “So, where are we going?”

Jake fidgeted with the radio before responding to her. The music of Queen came blasting through the speakers. “We’re going East. I thought we could explore Long Island. Anywhere we want to stop, we stop. Just see where the road takes us.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “Awesome.”

Jake took off heading Northeast, up into Queens. When they started seeing signs for Citi Field, Jake talked about how his dad used to take him to Mets games when he was younger. Jake so rarely talked about his dad. She was touched that he was sharing something so personal with her.

“He’d always buy me a special program and ice cream in a helmet. I kept every single one. Every program. Every helmet. They’re all in a box under my bed in my mom’s house,” Jake described. “He took me to my first game when I was 5. The last game he took me to was when I was 9, so I only have like 4 or 5 programs and helmets. And obviously I’ve been to tons of games since then, but I’ve never been able to buy another program or ice cream in a helmet. It’s always been me and my dad’s thing. I haven’t been able to do it on my own.”

Amy stared at Jake through his monologue. Sure, Jake talked a lot. Seeing him say so much was nothing new. What was new however, was him talking so much about something serious and personal. He didn’t even notice her staring as he continued on.

“Actually, I cried at the first game that I went to at Citi Field. Not like hysterical, just shed a couple of tears. It was as if I was mourning the fact that I’d never get to go to a game at Shea Stadium with my dad ever again. I hadn’t even known that the last time would be the last.” Finally, Jake looked over at Amy. “Why are you looking at me weird? Am I talking too much?”

Amy shook her head. “No, not at all. Thanks for opening up to me Jake.”

Jake stared straight ahead, keeping his eyes focused on the road. He shrugged. “You’re easy to talk to.”

They drove in silence for a little while. Eventually, Amy saw a sign for Sagamore Hill.

“Ooh! Sagamore Hill. Teddy Roosevelt’s home. I’ve always wanted to go.”

Jake took the exit. “Then we should go.”

They pulled into the parking lot at around 9:15. Amy went into the visitor’s center as Jake walked around the grounds. She met him 10 minutes later.

“C’mon,” she exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the house. “Our tour starts in 5 minutes.”

Amy knew that history was not Jake’s thing. She kept looking at him while they toured the house, wanting to make sure that he was enjoying himself. He seemed pretty interested in what the park ranger was telling them. He even asked a follow-up question about Roosevelt’s conservation efforts.

After the tour they visited the gift shop. Amy picked out a teddy bear to buy her youngest niece. Jake bought a teddy bear, too. He insisted it was for his mom, though Amy had a feeling it was really for himself.

“Thanks for doing that for me,” Amy said when they were back on the road.

Jake glanced over at Amy, a small smile on his face. “Well, you listened to me get emotional about my dad. So, we’re even.”

“Well, to show my gratitude, I have a treat for you.” Amy reached into the backseat to grab her backpack. She pulled out her surprise for Jake with a “Ta-da!”

Jake looked at what she was holding up and gasped. “Gummy bears!”

She put the backpack down by her feet and opened the bag of gummy bears. She grabbed Jake’s hand to hold it steady in her own. She couldn’t help but notice the way his hand twitched at her touch. She poured him a handful of bears and them picked out a few for herself.

“You’re the best, Ames!” Jake exclaimed with a mouthful of candy.

Having spent some time on the North Shore of Long Island, Jake decided that they needed to head south now. They kept driving, Amy sharing the gummy bears with him until they where all gone. Eventually they were at Heckscher State Park.

“When I was little, my Grandparents lived not too far from here,” Jake explained as he pulled into the parking lot. “After my dad left, my mom had to work more, so sometimes I’d spend weekends out here with them. If the weather was nice, my Grandfather would take me to the playground here while my Grandmother was at her Garden Club.”

“Do they still live here?” Amy asked as she climbed out of the car.

“Nah, they moved to Florida when they retired when I was 19. Then my grandmother passed away when I was 27 and my grandfather passed away a few months later.”

Amy was learning more about Jake today then she had learned about him in the last five years that they worked together. She was touched that he was feeling comfortable opening up to her.

They walked along the path, Jake pointing out places he remembered – where he rode his bike for the first time, where he played little league baseball, where he fell and scraped his chin, where Gina had kissed him when she visited his Grandparents with him when they were 16. Eventually, they reached the bay. “And this is where I learned how to swim. My grandfather was very patient. We spent hours here every Saturday when I was 8 and by the end of the summer, I was swimming!”

Amy didn’t say anything, she just looked at Jake. She’d known him for five years and had always considered them to be good friends. But she never realized until now how little she actually knew about him. She was liking everything that she was hearing. She enjoyed Jake’s vulnerability and openness. It felt like their friendship was evolving.

Jake turned away from the water, which he had been looking at so intensely, to look at Amy. “You’re looking at me weird again. Oh no! Am I talking too much again?” he worried. “You know you can tell me to shut up.”

Amy rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. “I’m seeing a whole new side to you.” She walked away from him, closer to the water. “I don’t completely hate it.”

Jake strolled closer to the water too, though he kept some distance from her. Silently, they both stared out at the bay. After several minutes, Jake strode over to her and nudged her shoulder, gesturing towards the path. They walked back to the car in silence. It wasn’t a comfortable silence though. There was an awkwardness in the air. Something had shifted. Amy worried that she had said something wrong.

Back in the car Jake put the key into the ignition, pausing before he turned the key to start the car. He turned to look at Amy and she looked back. Jake shook his head and turned the key. He inched forward into the next parking spot, but then stopped the car and pulled the key out, turning back to Amy again.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he stated.

“Oooookayyyy…” Amy replied when Jake failed to elaborate any further.

Jake took a deep breath. “I opened up to you the other night about my car and why its so important to me. And now I can’t stop. It’s like verbal diarrhea. All these personal stories just keep spilling out and I can’t stop myself.”

Amy nodded. “It’s not a bad thing Jake,” she assured him. “It’s good to have friends you can open up to and be vulnerable with.”

Jake scrunched up his nose. “I don’t know” He sounded hesitant. “You’re not going to tease me? You’re not going to use these things to mock me later?”

She placed her hand on his shoulder and he leaned closer into her. The way he looked at her was so innocent, so pure. It was a look he had never given her before. If she was being honest, she really liked the way he was currently looking at her. “I would never tease you or mock you for the things that make you who you are,” she promised.

Jake bit his bottom lip and then pulled her into a hug. “Thanks.”

Amy’s heart beat faster in Jake’s embrace. When he let go to start driving again, she missed the feel of his arms around her. She ached for the feel of his chest pressed against her.

As they drove along the south shore of Long Island, Amy looked at Jake. There was a crease in his forehead. She could tell that he was still a little uneasy about his sudden display of vulnerability. She knew that the only way to make him feel safer was to show him her own vulnerable side.

“Sometimes I worry that I’m going to die unmarried and alone,” she confessed.

Jake laughed, and she immediately regretted sharing one of her most private fears with Jake. She turned away from him, resting her head against the window, watching the stores passing by out the window.

“Ames,” Jake said. She ignored him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, repeating her name again. She couldn’t stand to look at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just… I didn’t realize…There’s just…How could you possibly be alone for the rest of your life? You’re smart and kind and beautiful and so much fun to be around…”

Amy turned to look at Jake. His hand was still on her shoulder, and he was glancing back at forth between her and the road. They came to a curve in the road, and he took his hand off her shoulder to control the wheel better. Once the road straightened out again, he put his hand on her knee, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”

Jake removed his hand, and just as she had ached for his embrace, she ached for the pressure of his hand on her knee. She really couldn’t explain what was going on. Just like Jake couldn’t rationalize his sudden display of vulnerability, she couldn’t describe her sudden desire for Jake’s touch and intimacy.

She shook it off to elaborate on her fear.

“It’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve been on a decent date, let alone with someone that I could actually see myself with.” She told him about the magician who thought it was a clever trick to strip down to his boxers, the dentist who gave her an oral exam during the middle of dinner, the artist who kept taking food off her plate without asking, the gym teacher who showed up to a nice restaurant in sweats and complained about the number of calories in each dish, and several other embarrassing and bizarre dates.

“That’s not you. You’re just going out with the wrong guys,” Jake assured her.

“I don’t know,” Amy countered. “These are the guys who ask me out. Do I only attract weirdos?”

Jake shook his head aggressively. “I think you intimidate a lot of guys. I’m not saying that it’s ok. I just think the guys who are good enough for you fear that they’re not good enough for you. “

Amy didn’t respond.

“Does that make sense?” Jake asked.

“Eh,” Amy shrugged.

“You’ll find the right guy. I really believe that,” Jake reassured her.

They continued driving on in silence. Thankfully, not as awkwardly as it was back in the park. In the silence, Amy could hear Jake’s stomach rumbling. She laughed.

“It’s probably time to eat something,” Jake declared, laughing along with Amy.

Amy peered out the window, keeping her eyes open for an interesting place to grab something for lunch.

“How about that Brewery?” Amy asked, pointing to a larger building coming up with a sign that read Blue Point Brewery.

“Looks good to me.”

They each ordered a beer and a sandwich (Cajun Tuna for Amy, Steak for Jake). The conversation was lighter as they ventured into more familiar territory, discussing cases and Amy’s love for their new Captain (Jake was still on the fence about Captain Holt).

They were back on the road just a little before 2:00. Things seemed to be back to normal between them. It had been nice to see a more vulnerable side of Jake. And Amy hadn’t minded sharing something more personal with him. It was nice to explore a different side of their friendship. That being said though, she was happy that they were settling back into their comfort zone, laughing and being silly.

They continued driving east along the south shore of Long Island, eventually reaching the Hamptons. In Southampton, Amy suggested they stop and walk around the town. Being the offseason, not many shops were open, but that was okay. She had fun exploring one of America’s oldest department stores, Hildreth’s. As a gift of gratitude to Jake, for appeasing her as she awed over home furnishings they both knew she wasn’t going to buy, she bought him a quarter pound of fudge at the candy store.

“Hey, I saw a large empty parking lot on our way into the town,” Jake announced as they walked back to the car. “It’d be a good place to practice driving.”

Amy nervously bit her bottom lip. Yes, that was the terms of the bet. Once this road trip was over, Jake’s car would be hers. She had told Jake she would drive his car, despite not knowing how to drive stick, implying that the result could potentially be disastrous. Knowing now how much this car meant to him, she felt bad about telling Jake that she would destroy his car. Out of respect to Jake, she really should learn how to properly drive his car.

They switched spots in the parking lot. Jake gave her a quick overview before directing her step by step through driving stick. She made several mistakes, but Jake was patient with her, even through his wincing. She was finally getting the hang of it when Jake suggested she take the car out on the road.

“You’re sure?” She was starting to get the hang of it but wasn’t feeling confident yet.

“You’ll be fine,” Jake insisted. “Besides, the roads are pretty empty, we’re safe. Just listen to me and focus.”

Amy smiled at Jake’s confidence in her. It made her feel good knowing that he believed in her capabilities.

Slowly but surely, she drove out on the major roads out east. Jake had been right; being winter in summer towns meant that there were very few, if any, cars on the road. By the time the reached Montauk, “The End,” Amy’s confidence in her ability to drive stick was matching Jake’s confidence in her.

“Ames!” he exclaimed. “That was awesome! I’m so proud of you!”

Amy couldn’t help but beam. Yes, she was proud of herself, too. But hearing that Jake was proud of her made her even happier. She couldn’t explain why.

She parked and they got out and walked around the town. As they got closer to the lighthouse, they saw signs stating that the last group up would be let in at 4:45pm.

“We can make it,” Amy asserted, as she grabbed Jake’s hand and pulled him, running to make the last entry up into the lighthouse.

They made it with seconds to spare. Her heart skipped a beat and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered when Jake didn’t immediately release her hand once they reached the lighthouse.

As they walked up the stairs, Amy walked in front of Jake. The steps were steep, and Amy’s heart skipped a beat every time Jake placed his hand on the small of her back to help her steady herself up the stairs. When they reached the top, the small balcony was crowded with others, trying to get in a quick look before the lighthouse closed for the evening. Amy stood, leaning against the railing, enjoying the view of the Atlantic Ocean. She was squeezed between an overly affectionate couple on the left and an adorable family with three small children on the right. To conserve space, or, at least that’s why she thought he was doing it, Jake stood behind her, his arms stretched out on either side of her, resting on the rail. Amy stood with her front pressed up against the railing. When another couple tried to pass behind him, Jake moved up, pressing his front into Amy’s back. Her heart started beating faster as she felt him pressed up against him.

“Sorry,” Jake mumbled when Amy looked behind her. He made to step back, regardless of there being little room, with more people trying to pass behind him.

“Don’t worry about it,” she insisted, pulling him back into her to allow room for others to pass. A kaleidoscope of butterflies exploded in her stomach when Jake stayed pressed up against her.

It wasn’t long before they were ushered down the stairs so the lighthouse staff could shut down for the night. Jake and Amy walked a little bit through the town. They occasionally bumped into each other. Amy could feel Jake’s hand twitch whenever he accidentally grazed hers.

Jake suggested they get dinner before they headed back into the city. They found a little bar that looked cozy. Despite there being plenty of empty tables, they decided to eat at the bar. They each ordered a beer and a few appetizers to share – mozzarella sticks, potato skins, and fish tacos.

“Oh my God!” Amy exclaimed as she saw a lonely bride enter the bar. Her light blonde hair was braided into a bun at the nape of her neck and her long-sleeved, bohemian dress flowed down to the middle of her shin.

Amy leaned in closer to Jake to whisper to him. “Do you think it’s a runaway bride situation?”

They tried not to stare, even when the bride took the empty seat next to Jake.

“Hi!” the bride said to them, beaming from ear to ear.

“Hi!” Jake and Amy responded, unsure of how to react.

“I just got married,” the bride explained, unable to stop smiling.

“Congrats!” Amy responded.

“Here’s my husband!” the bride exclaimed. A tall man with a buzzcut, dressed in a slender-fitting gray suit walked in. Once he spotted his new wife, he ran to join her, grabbing her up into a hug and passionately kissing her. It was one of the sweetest things she’d ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Ken,” the groom said, holding his hand out to Jake and Amy. “This is my wife, Florence.”

Jake and Amy shook his hand and congratulated him.

Ken and Florence were an adorable couple. They couldn’t stop smiling, or keep their eyes, or hands, off each other.

“We wanted a moment just the two of us before we head to the reception,” Florence explained to Jake and Amy.

“Can we buy you a drink?” Amy offered.

Ken shook his head as he got the bartender’s attention. “No, that’s okay, thanks though. Drinks are on us.”

Florence and Ken bought a round of champagne for everyone in the bar. The bartender toasted the happy new couple. As they drank their champagne, then their beer, while they waited for their food to arrive, Jake and Amy talked to the newlyweds.

Ken and Florence had meet five years ago. They worked together at the same marketing firm in the city. They were friendly, hanging out and occasionally flirting. Then, after a year working together, they were assigned to head a campaign together. After many late nights working just the two of them, they realized that their feelings were more than just friendly. So, Ken asked Florence out and they fell in love.

“What about you two? How did you meet? How long have you been together?” Florence asked.

“Oh, no…we’re not…we’re just…” Jake stuttered, while Amy explained, “No, we’re just colleagues. We’re police detectives.”

“Yeah, but there’s something going on between you two, right?” Ken asked.

“Nope, just friends,” Amy said.

“Yeah, just friends,” Jake echoed Amy, though quieter and less sure.

Ken and Florence finished their champagne and Ken checked his phone. “Uh, oh. We’ve got a lot of missed calls. We should probably head off to our reception.”

Florence threw her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Please, one shot before we go.”

Ken ordered a round of tequila for his new wife, Jake and Amy. They clinked their glasses together and took their shots.

“It was so nice meeting you,” Florence said, pulling Amy into a hug. Quietly, she whispered into Amy’s ear. “Jake really likes you. He looks at you the way Ken looks at me.”

Amy was startled by Florence’s insinuation. Jake liking Amy. She doubted it. Jake was constantly teasing her. She thought back to their day. Jake had opened up to her in a way he never had before. He taken her to visit a historical, presidential home. He shared a part of his childhood. He explored a new department store with her, never once teasing her for her old lady taste in furniture.

And, then there was the way his body reacted at the slightest touch of their bodies. The way his fingers twitched. The way he squeezed her knee, the way his hand felt on her back. The way she could feel his heart beating against her back on the top of the lighthouse.

Maybe Florence was on to something.

Amy waved goodbye to the newlyweds, just as their food arrived. As they ate, they talked about TV shows they were watching and movies they’d recently seen. They were so engrossed in their discussion that they hadn’t noticed that the bartender brought them both another beer, which they both drank without realizing it.

Chapter Four: The Hotel Room

“I’m a little tipsy. I don’t think I can drive,” Jake confessed once they paid for their dinner and made their way out of the bar.

“Me either,” Amy admitted. “Should we just walk around until we sober up?”

“Um, it’s getting pretty cold, and dark. And there’s nothing open. And, it’s almost 7:30, anyway. By the time we sober up and make it all the way back home, it will be like, midnight,” Jake countered. “We could get a hotel room. Each. We can each get our own hotel room.”

Amy looked up at Jake. He was looking down at her with a worried look on his face. She nodded. “Sure.”

They walked a few blocks to the hotel.

“Can we get 2 rooms?” Jake asked the receptionist.

“I’ll check what’s available. There’s a big wedding here this weekend so we’re pretty booked.” The receptionist typed away on the computer. “Looks like there’s only one room available.”

Jake looked down at Amy. “Oh…we don’t… we can find another hotel. Or I can sleep in the car,” he stammered.

Amy shook her head. “It’s okay. We can take the room.”

“You sure?” Jake asked.

Amy shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine. We’re friends, we can share a hotel room.”

Amy paid for the room.

She looked down at herself and then looked at Jake. “I don’t have a change of clothes or any toiletries or anything.”

Jake looked down at himself too. “Yeah, me neither.”

“There’s soap and shampoo and stuff in the hotel room,” the receptionist interjected. He bent down to pull something out from under the counter. “Here’s toothpaste and toothbrushes for you. And you can pick up some clothes at our hotel shop. It’s been closed up for the night, but I can let you in to pick out some stuff, as long as you promise to come back and pay for it all before you leave tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much!” Amy took the toothbrushes and toothpaste from the receptionist and followed him to the store. She picked out a gray pair of sweatpants and a red crewneck sweatshirt, while Jake picked out a black pair of shorts and a blue long sleeve shirt. They thanked the receptionist again and made their way towards their room.

“Jake! Amy!” Amy turned to look who was calling them. Who did they know in Montauk? Of course, it was Florence and Ken.

“What are you doing here?” Florence asked, approaching Jake and Amy.

“We might have had a little too much to drink,” Amy explained. “We’re just going to sleep here tonight.”

“Oh, okay,” Florence replied, wiggling her eyebrows. Her facial expression was a little too similar to Charles’ when he implied that Jake and Amy would be a cute couple. Amy didn’t know how she felt about the fact that for the third time in less than 48 hours someone had suggested that she and Jake made a cute couple. Thinking back on her interactions with Jake since then, she couldn’t help thinking that perhaps all these people were on to something.

“We’re just changing before we had back to our reception,” Ken clarified. “Hey, you two should join us.”

Amy looked up at Jake. He scrunched up his nose, a look that she knew meant he wasn’t sure; it was a look she had seen numerous times while working on cases with him.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think we’re just going to head back to our room. We’ve had a long day,” Amy responded.

“You sure?” Florence asked.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jake replied.

Amy followed Jake to their room. Once they arrived, she opened up the room. She was shocked to find that there was only one bed in the room.

“Um, I can go sleep in the car,” Jake offered.

Amy shook her head. “Don’t be silly, there’s plenty of room.”

“Ok, yeah, I’ll just sleep on the floor,” Jake responded.

Again, Amy shook her head. “Jake, you can sleep in the bed. It’s plenty big enough.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. She could tell he was about to ask again if she was sure. She responded before he could ask again. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Okay. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

Amy went into the bathroom to change and wash up. When she emerged, Jake had changed too. As Jake went into the bathroom to wash up, there was a knock at the door. When Amy opened the door, she was greeted by a hotel staff member holding a bottle of champagne.

“I think you have the wrong room…” Amy started but was cut off by the staff member. “It’s a gift from Florence and Ken for Jake and Amy.”

Amy thanked the delivery girl and took the bottle. She noticed a card attached to the neck of the bottle. She opened it up as she closed the door.

Jake and Amy

It was wonderful meeting you. Enjoy this bottle on us! ;)

Love,

Florence and Ken

There was also a post script suggesting that they meet up in the city with both of their phone numbers.

“Who was that?” Jake asked, emerging from the bathroom.

Amy held up the bottle. “A gift from our favorite newlyweds.”

“No doubt, no doubt. That was cool of them,” Jake responded, taking the bottle from Amy. As he opened it up, she grabbed 2 coffee mugs from the desk. Jake poured them each a mug of champagne. They clinked their mugs, toasting their new friends.

Amy sat down on the bed while Jake took the seat at the desk. She turned on the TV, flipping through channels, looking for something they would both agree on watching. An old rerun of SNL was playing on NBC, and Amy left the TV on this channel. They sat in silence, watching, laughing along at the funnier sketches.

During a commercial break, Amy noticed Jake reading the note from Florence and Ken. “Why’d she add a winky face?” he asked.

Amy could feel her face getting red. “Oh, um, well, Florence thinks…you see…she said to me…”

“Ames, what’s going on?”

Amy took a deep breath. “Florence told me she thinks we’d be a cute couple.”

Amy could see Jake take a deep gulp, his face now also turning red. “Oh, okay.”

They both sat there in silence for a moment. Jake turned his attention back to the TV. Halfway through the first sketch after the commercial break, Jake stood up and turned off the TV, turning to look at Amy. “Ken said the same thing to me.”

“Oh, okay.” Amy couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that.

Jake took a step closer to the bed. “Charles has also been implying lately that he thinks I like you and that he wants us to be a couple.”

Amy nodded. “Yeah, he made a comment about that to me too the other night.”

Jake nodded and shrugged. “And those perps made the comment about us being a cute couple.”

“That’s true,” Amy whispered as Jake took a step even closer to her. She found herself unable to speak as Jake sat down next to her on the bed. He was pretty close, his knee grazing her own. Amy felt electricity streaming though her body at the slightest hint of Jake’s touch.

“Do you think all these people are seeing something we don’t see?” Jake whispered. He scooted a little closer to Amy on the bed, giving her goosebumps at how close they were now, their legs resting next to each other’s.

Amy gulped, taking a moment to gain courage. “I think I might understand what everyone else is seeing.”

She was so nervous, she spoke so low. She wasn’t even sure that Jake had heard what she said. But he leaned closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“I think I see it too.” With that he leaned forward and kissed Amy.

She paused at first, shocked by his actions. Her heart was racing and she felt like she was sweating. But as Jake continued to kiss her, she leaned into it, kissing him back. She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck as he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer into him. Amy shifted back on the bed so that she was leaning against the headrest and Jake shifted with her.

Suddenly, Jake pulled away from Amy, his hands still on her waist. “We’ve had a lot to drink tonight. We should probably stop.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” But instead of letting go, she pulled him back in to kiss him again.

They continued to kiss for several more minutes before Amy eventually pulled away. She let go of Jake and jumped off the bed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. We’ve had too much to drink tonight. We should stop before we do something we regret.”

“Yep,” Jake replied. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt.”

Amy looked at Jake. She couldn’t stop smiling. She was so happy about what had just happened. Jake was smiling too.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” she announced.

“I’m gonna wait here,” Jake replied. “I need a minute.”

Amy looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her face was flushed, but she couldn’t shake the smile off her face. She felt like it was going to be a permanent fixture for quite a while.

When she finished up in the bathroom, Jake went in to brush his teeth. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek as he passed her, making her smile grow even larger.

Amy settled into the bed. She turned the TV back on, which was now playing the local news. After several minutes, Jake joined her again. He settled into the bed beside her, turning off the lights in the room. Jake held his arm out and Amy shifted into his side, allowing Jake to cuddle in close to her, her head resting on his chest.

They continued watching TV. After the news, a new episode of SNL started. Soon, Amy began to drift off to sleep. The last thing she noticed before she finally drifted into a blissful sleep was Jake pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

Chapter Five: The New Bet

Amy woke up the next morning, still feeling elated about last night’s events. She was feeling warm in Jake’s embrace. Her head was on his chest, and he was holding her tightly.

“Good morning,” Jake said. Amy looked up at Jake. He kissed her softly on the lips.

“Good morning.”

Amy wriggled out from Jake’s embrace and got out of bed. She looked at her phone, seeing that it was almost 8:00 in the morning.

‘We should get back to the city,” she declared.

She and Jake changed back into their clothes from yesterday. They checked out of the hotel, stopping by the hotel gift shop to pay for the clothes they picked out yesterday. They walked to a bagel shop down the block to get a breakfast to go.

On the drive home, they sang along to the radio and talked about concerts they enjoyed. Every so often, Jake would reach over to Amy and squeeze her knee or hold her hand. At every touch, Amy’s heart skipped a beat. She was so happy. Who would have ever though that Jake Peralta would be able to make her so happy?

Eventually, they reached Jake’s building. He parked the car and turned it off, turning in his seat so that he was facing Amy. “So, I guess this is it. I’m going to miss you, girl.”

Amy was confused. “Um, I’ll see you again.”

Jake shook his head. “I was talking to the car.”

“Of course, you were.” Amy looked closely at Jake. He was really torn apart over losing his car. Charles had been right. Giving up this car would be the worst thing in the world for Jake. Amy hated seeing Jake like this. Especially after everything that had happened between them last night.

“I think you should keep your car,” Amy proclaimed.

Jake took her hand, squeezing it and shook his head. “No, no. You won fair and square. It’s yours.”

“No, it’s yours,” Amy argued. Jake opened his mouth to argue, but Amy held her finger to his mouth to quiet him. “It’s your car because the terms of our bet weren’t fair. You bet one of the most important things in the world to you. And for me, well, I guess I’ve realized that being ‘one of those chicks in your car’ really is not the worst thing in the world. Actually, ‘being one of those chicks in your car’ is kinda awesome.

Jake beamed. “Ames, you’re awesome.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek. He leaned back and they kissed for quite some time.

“Well, you still won the bet,” Jake stated. “What do you get?”

Amy smiled. “Let’s continue the bet. In one year, whoever loses has to pay to take the winner on a date.”

“It’s a deal.” Jake leaned away from Amy and held out her hand. She shook it, sealing in the new terms of their bet.

[feminaexlux]

Dragon, Viper, Tiger

Tossing my hat back in the ring for @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers AU sprint challenge!. I went with the Thief/Heist AU since I’d been kicking this idea around for a while.

I gave myself an arbitrary editing deadline of 6pm so I hope it both makes sense and reads alright, but shrugs

Hope you enjoy! Find on AO3 here :)

⁂

Viper was sometimes glad he had a longer running gait than the woman on his tail only a few meters behind. He put his long legs to use and leapt up onto a couple of filing cabinets, scrambled up to the bare industrial support beams of the so called modern office building he’d broken into, and jumped over the dividing wall via the exposed ceiling.

Post-Modern styled offices just lent themselves so well to the good old B&E.

The wiring crisscrossing through the exposed ceiling allowed him to occasionally cut the telecommunication lines in his hasty exit, which was great in trying to prevent any of the security cameras from tracking him. If he also took out the internet lines that was just an added bonus, since that’d probably slow down anyone trying to access the proprietary blueprint he pilfered. He just needed to buy some time.

He probably could have gotten out a few minutes ago since he already had the memcube in his pocket, but this was really the only opportunity he had to see Officer MDC in action. Oh, nice, there she was, waiting for him in her combat stance at his specified exit point. Even at 5 foot nothing she’d landed him on his ass waaaay too many times, but honestly he loved the challenge of facing her. She always had new tricks up her sleeve.

But so did he, with some of the info that Tiger kept leaving him. Like, for instance, even if MDC had gotten the EMP disruption lace installed in her gloves, it could easily be counteracted and redirected by the additional aluminum alloy mesh Dragon had added as the inner lining to his wetware, so the memcube wouldn’t be completely fried if MDC did manage to land a hit (and she usually did). The only problem was trying to find where to ground the pulse… But the priority order was, as ever, keeping his identity safe, then getting the payload, then trying to escape unscathed. Paris PD’s Special Circumstances wasn’t ever going to figure out his identity (unless he died), nor would they get to know that the same general producer for their own tech was his boss (unless he died).

Viper didn’t relish the idea of dying, so he’d been doing his best at avoiding that particular outcome. He’d done well so far, even if he did come out of MDC encounters with more bruises and scars than when he went in. He had landed in front of Marinette and smiled. She rolled her eyes at him. And before he knew it, she had launched herself at him with her classic opener: a roundhouse kick to his solar plexus.

⁂

Viper slid underneath the food truck and unlatched a hidden panel, hauling himself through the opening feet first as quietly as he could. He toed the hatch closed behind him but caught it with his fingers before it made impact. He couldn’t give up the game now by being loud, that’d be so, so lame. He heard the gravel get scraped below his temporary entombment and he knew it was Marinette. She felt at the truck’s undercarriage and probed for any particular weaknesses or different materials and he heard her muffled voice as she worked with her TIKKI AI to scan any infrared signals and find any potential structural modifications done to the vehicle.

Here’s to hoping that Markov did its job correctly, he thought. Otherwise they’d be out of a job… and a food truck.

A few minutes later he heard her curse and slam an open palm against the undercarriage in frustration. “I know you’re in here, Viper!” she yelled.

“Ma'am?” He heard another voice chime in. “Why are you under our truck?”

⁂

A very cramped 3 hours later after a thorough inspection and nearly complete teardown of the food truck, Viper finally popped the floor panel and took in some fresh air. Well, relatively fresh, it smelled like greasy food all around him. The truck was already on the highway, having been released from the PD’s temporary impounding for being present at the scene and potentially housing a wanted criminal. The scans came up with nothing, the truck’s workers came up clean through the ID system, the truck’s visit and movements were tracked and scheduled and above board.

The actual food truck owners were unaware of his presence, which was just the way he liked it. He stretched his legs out a bit after being folded up into such a tiny space for so long. It was the sole disadvantage of having long legs, but he was the best in class at his job for all the contortion required. Plus he wasn’t claustrophobic like Tiger was. Speaking of… he checked his watch.

ur late, asshole

cg again? u simp

special 4u 0xdeadbeef

Oooof course. He could always count on his sister for ribbing on his infatuation with Cafe Girl, their codename for Marinette. He took one last relatively fresh breath of air and went back into hiding, sealing the latch shut. He listened for the engine knock signature: 4, 5, 1, 4, 2, 5, 5, 6, opened the bottom panel, dropped onto the street with his camouflage on, and kicked the panel closed before the truck took off. A bus drove over him and he hitched a ride, holding on underneath for 4 blocks, then rolled into the gutter drain.

⁂

It was a pretty quiet evening at Cafe Orriko, a cozy little cafe that had some steadfast regulars. One of Luka’s favorite hangouts due to the owners letting him lounge around and play his acoustic without complaint. There’d been another reason Luka loved this particular cafe, though.

Nathaniel heard the door chime and looked up, smiling at the newcomer. “Hey welcome to–oh hey Mar–oh shit MARC WE HAVE A CODE PINK!” There was a hastily tossed pillow from Marc that Nathaniel covered with a tea towel and passed to Marinette. She pulled up the pillow to her face and screamed into it for a good 20 seconds. Nath grimaced. “Bad day?”

She lowered the pillow. “Stupid fucking Viper I swear I will rip him in half and tear him to fucking shreds once I finally get my hands on him!”

Luka chuckled, having stopped playing his guitar when he noticed that Marinette had come in. “Careful, sounds like he might like that,” he winked.

“Uuuuugh,” Marinette groaned. “Thank you, Nath. Just… just gimme my usual, please.” She looked pretty dejected this time, handing back the pillow and tea towel, walking to Luka’s couch, and plopping down next to him. “Please, Luka, could you play me something soothing?”

“Anything for you,” he said, starting up an easy tune. “I know you can’t talk a lot about your work, but… what went wrong today?”

“Nnng, just… just I knew where he was and we still didn’t get him. He’s like a fucking ghost, he just… disappears! Poof!” She usually discussed what was already covered on the nightly news broadcasts, just to be safe.

“Then he’s pretty good,” Luka said neutrally enough, but hid a smirk behind a cough when Marinette gave him the stink eye.

“He only needs to fail once,” Marinette huffed. “He can’t always have luck on his side.” Marc came by with her salted caramel hot chocolate. “Thanks, Marc,” she sighed, relaxing a little bit as she took a sip of the steaming hot drink.

Luka set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You’ll get him one day, I know it.”

“I’d still have my work cut out for me. I have to find the Dragon after him,” Marinette groaned again. “And Adrien’s still obsessed with that stupid Fencer lady so he’s no help.” Marinette shut her eyes tight and shook her head. “But enough about that. How are you, Luka? I’m glad I was able to run into you today.”

Luka wasn’t going to mention that she’d already run into him earlier as the one and only Viper. “It was going alright, but it’s better now that you’re here,” he smiled. Marinette blushed a little and smiled back, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Sorry about your rough day though,” he added quickly.

Marinette shrugged. “It’s work. It’s… it’s so weird what the Syndicate goes for, it’s not even like… anything really valuable? I swear they’re doing it just to mess with us and wreak havoc.”

“You haven’t figured out a pattern?” Luka asked. Marinette made a zipping motion across her mouth. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

She shrugged again. “No more talk about work, please. I’d just… like to hear you play, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he chuckled.

She closed her eyes as he started playing the guitar again, something soft and pleasant that reminded him of her. She leaned her head against his shoulder while he played and he felt his heart beating faster.

One day, when the jig was up, he’d love to take her out for dinner. Assuming, of course, that he hadn’t been torn to pieces by her hands.

[luzarya]

Find You

Siren Au where Yuu is a siren.

summary: Yuu was sweeping, when they realized that something good had came, for once, in their life.

Their beloved had came.

ao3 link: here

warning: none

word count: 3,076

songs: this and this

part: 2/3

-> 1 (previous)

-> 3 (not out til next friday)

----

Yuu hummed a quiet melody as they swept the floor of Mostro Lounge. The lounge was empty, past its closing time.

Yuu began working not too long ago, their current contract having them work at the lounge ,and in exchange, Azul would do his best removing traces of Yuu’s presence at the beach. The local government had begun to search for the owner of the hypnotic voice before it took any lives, and had it not been for Azul’s interference, Yuu would probably have been in the government’s grasp.

And to be fair, Yuu didn’t want to be held by the government, not again.

The events that lead up to their current predicament, was truly, rather interesting.

Yuu’s voice switched from a hum to a quiet singing, as they recalled how they had to reveal their mer form to Jack, Deuce, Ace, and Grim. They all had been shocked, no doubt, but it soon quickly faded once they all realized it would play in their favor. Yet, the Leech twins had known, planning around it.

In the end, Yuu needed help from the Savanaclaw dorm, ultimately playing into their favor.

...then it landed them in another contract, not even a day after.

Yuu continued to sing, this time their voice now heard. No one was in the lounge itself, perhaps someone in the kitchen, Yuu figured, with the amount of noise they heard from that area. But they sang, and sang they did, of the song that their beloved once sang.

Yuu had promised an eternity with their beloved, yet they couldn’t fulfill their debt. Sometimes, they wished that their beloved would just magically appear, but they knew that it wouldn’t happen.

But one could hope.

They continued to mindlessly sing and sweep, thinking about their beloved, until a voice called out to them.

“Eh, Shachi-chan, why are ya always singin’ that song?” Floyd came out from the kitchen, a dish in hand. He had an almost dazed look- Yuu singing affected all, but to fellow mer, it was to a lesser degree. Nor did it take hold for too longer, either. The dazed look was already gone.

“What’s it to ya?” Yuu growled, unhappy that their singing was interrupted, although they eyed the dish. “What’s that?”

“Oh this? Just some shrimp alfredo.~”

“And you made it because…?”

“Just felt like it!~”

“I see…”

Yuu returned to sweeping, their song now a hum, as Floyd began eating his dish. It hadn’t been a minute, a freaking minute, until Floyd spoke again. At this point, Yuu was ready to strangle the mer. They just wanted to sing and hum their melody, was that too much to ask?

“Wanna taste, Shachi-chan?~”

Yuu eyed the dish, glaring at the eel mer, “What’s the catch, Leech?”

“Fufufu, answer my question, Shachi-chan.~”

Yuu let out a sigh, and placed their broomstick against the wall. They walked over and took the adjacent seat, looking at the plate. They didn’t look at Floyd, but they uttered their response.

“It’s a song from someone important.”

Floyd then wordlessly handed them their fork, not caring if they had used it earlier. Floyd only grinned as he waited for Yuu to take a bite.

Yuu grabbed a napkin, cleaning the fork before stabbing the shrimp, taking a bit. They took another, savoring the taste.

“Huh, this is pretty good, Floyd.”

“Fufu, I am pretty great, aren’t I?~”

“When you’re in the mood, that is.”

Floyd bellowed loudly, somehow finding Yuu’s statement to be funny.

Yuu looked quizzically at the eel mer, “Eh? What’s so funny, Leech?”

“Eheh, you’re pretty interesting, aren’t ya?~”

--

The selkie swam through the familiar shores, searching. It had been months since they last saw their beloved.

Too long, in fact.

However, they clung onto the hope that their beloved Yuu was alive- after all, they were alive when they left.

Even if Yuu hadn’t known.

Engel could still remember the carriage, how they tried to call out to Yuu, how something restricted their throat, unable to call for them. It was utter agony, unable to voice out their words of caution. They had saw Yuu go inside the carriage, and Engel was able to see their frightened expression as they entered. Engel wanted to help, yet the restraints didn’t allow them.

Even so, they sang their song. Their voice may not have the same power nor strength as that of Yuu’s, the ability to entrance mortals and to have their voice carry, but it didn’t matter.

They sang. Even if their words came out as a seal’s barks, honks, and growls. Even if no one understood them, they sang.

They sang for Yuu.

After all, they sang of an eternity together in this damned world, hadn’t they?

----

“Hey, Floyd?” Yuu asked, messing with the blood-filled glass bead of their seashell bracelet. Its warmth brought a sense of calm over.

“Hmm?”

“Do ya think Azul will help me bring someone on over? From my world, that is?”

Floyd titled his head, his eyes rolling upwards in ponderment, letting out a small “hmmmm”.

“Well, I’m sure you would have to ask Azul yourself, Yuu,” a familiar voice rang out.

The two mer turned their heads towards the direction of the voice. Jade simply gave a smile as he came closer, as he too, took a seat next to Yuu.

“I see…” Yuu muttered, lowering their head. They had a small hope, a small hope that they could bring their beloved to this world. They only knew that Engel was alive due to the warmth the bracelet emitted.

It was their only comfort in this foreign world.

“Fufu, do not fret, Yuu. Azul is surely bound to find an answer of some sorts, if you ask.”

“To the point of invention, Jade? After all, it was the carriage that brought me over. Can Azul even recreate such a thing?” Yuu retorted. What are the chances that they could bring over their beloved?

“Who knows,” Jade shrugged, “Speaking of which, the mirror was wrong, were they not?”

“Oh yea,” Floyd agreed, “Shachi-chan does have magic, so why’d the mirror say they’ve got none?” Floyd looked at Yuu expectedly, giving a toothy grin.

“Heck if I know,” Yuu replied, “Maybe ‘cause my magic is limited? I can only really use it for my voice and becoming mer, so-“

“Ehhhhh, you don’t use a potion?” Floyd looked shocked, his eyes wide and mouth agape. His brother shared a similar look of disbelief, although it was much more subtle. After all, they had used potions to retain their human form.

“I don’t? I’m half mer, after all,” Yuu replied. Did magic function differently here? If it did, it would explain as to why their magic went unnoticed. It would be simply that the magic mirror is only able to detect the magic native to this world, and as everyone knows, Yuu is no native.

“What’s the other half?” Jade titled his head to the side, much more curious about Yuu’s origins than before.

“Human.”

“Ehhhhh? I was convinced Shachi-chan was a full mer, fufu, now this is interesting, no?~”

----

The water above Engel became murky, radiating an odd warmth. The water was near freezing, and Engel’s body was becoming overheated. Yet, as much as Engel could, they couldn’t swim to colder waters. Something was pulling them in.

It was like magic.

Pain shot through all their body. It was nearly unbearable, that Engel almost had wished to die instead of dealing with the immense pain. It endured for the next five minutes, and soon, they found their body being forced out of the water, landing on the sand with a loud smack. Their body was sore, Engel letting out a loud painful whine.

They took a moment to adjust to their surroundings, noticing that they were on a beach, vacant and devoid of any life. However, they could faintly pick up a certain scent, one that distracted them from all their pain and inner turmoil.

And that was Yuu’s scent.

It was faint, oh so very faint, but Engel could still pick it up. The scent had sent them to overdrive, their blood pulsing faster than before.

Shifting out of their pelt, they hugged it close to ward off the cold night, as they began to track Yuu’s scent, venturing into the forest that bordered the beach.

Too many times were they nearly caught, too many times were they nearly hunted. No doubt, something knew that Engel was there, but that didn’t deter them. They’ll lose the hunter, sooner or later. It was just a matter of when.

Soon enough, they found themselves near what looked like an academy of some sorts, a gate blocking their way. Yuu’s scent here was strong however, an anxiety started to pool up in their stomach. What if they couldn’t get to Yuu? All those months of searching would go down the drain, and they would have no one to return to.

Letting out a pitiful sigh, they turned to leave, until they heard a voice call out to them.

“Who are you?”

Engel looked towards the direction of the voice, their black eyes locking with amber ones.

Engel didn’t say a word, yet the person came closer. It wasn’t until when they were directly across from them on the other side of the gate did Engel notice their features, as the moon provided little light. The person had white hair and wolf ears, and a somewhat dark complexion., They had a strong build that intimidated Engel, but judging by their relaxed pose, they knew they posed no threat. Despite that, even if they did indeed pose a threat, Engel felt confident enough of their own strength to take them down.

“I’m Engel,” the selkie finally stated, albeit reluctantly, “And you are?” Something about the beastman felt familiar, although Engel couldn’t figure out as to why.

“Jack. Tell me, why do you smell of blood?” Jack asked, his eyes now glaring at the selkie.

There was no visible trail of blood on Engel, but they did have some.

Their bracelet.

Engel raised their hand to show off their bracelet, of which had seashells and small, blood-filled glass beads. Mer often gave one another bracelets, with their scales, to their beloved. Yet, as Engel and Yuu were not the typical mer, they made do.

It was their only connection, and the only way they knew if the other lived. Engel could still feel the warmth of the bracelet, although it was beginning to grow warmer the more they came close to Yuu’s location. No doubt, Yuu was in this academy.

“The blood of my beloved. They have a similar one, although with my blood,” Engel stated, proudly.

Jack didn’t say a word, but he glanced around. “I know a way to get you inside, but you’ll have to trust me, alright?”

“You’ll do that?” Engel gasped, clutching onto their pelt with their free hand.

Jack looked at them again, and shook his head, “I’ll get you some clothes too.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Jack glanced behind Engel, and said, “We should hurry, I don’t think we have much time.”

----

“It’s time for me to leave, so I suppose I’ll be on my way,” Yuu began, as they got up from their seat.

“Leaving so soon, Shachi-chan?~” Floyd grabbed Yuu’s wrist, as the siren looked at them with great disdain. This was often why they avoided Floyd, the eel mer was too much for them to handle.

“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t, Leech?” Yuu turned to look at the other Leech brother, who was only giving them a close-eyed smile. Very helpful.

“It’s not that late, is it, Jade?~”

“It’s literally almost curfew, Sir Strangles-People.”

“Stay the night! You’re mer, you’ll fit right in.~”

“Pray tell, Leech, where would I sleep?”

At this question, Floyd let go of Yuu’s hand as they massaged the area. He seemed to actually be in thought, something of which Yuu rarely saw.

“Hm, would they sleep with us, Jade?” Floyd wondered out loud, his grin becoming bigger, showcasing all of his sharp teeth. Yuu wondered

“I’m leaving,” Yuu quickly said, already striding away from the brothers. The warmth from their bracelet grew, borderline burning them. Yuu furrowed their brows, the pain stinging yet not unbearable. Yuu didn’t stop walking, even when one of the brothers called out to them. As soon as they were out of sight, Yuu broke out in a run.

-----

Engel sighed happily as they fondled with the beads of their bracelet, its warmth growing stronger. It only ever did that after long periods of absence of the other bracelet, as the bracelets were made to function in such a way. Yuu’s mother had personally made the bracelets, carefully telling them what each sign had meant.

Warmth meant the other was alive and well. Absence of warmth meant death.

And burning, after being separated for a long time, meant the other was near.

And boy, was Engel just vibrating with a certain happiness. Months and months of searching, and finally their search bore fruit.

“Hot chocolate?”

Engel snapped out of their daydream, looking at the owner of the voice. It was Jack, whose hand was in front of her, with a mug of hot chocolate within its grasp.

“Ah, many thanks, Jack,” Engel grabbed ahold of the mug, pulling it close to their person. They adorned some ill-fitting clothing, although it was all that Jack could offer. At least, Engel mused, they had something on. Better to wear baggy clothing than to be out and about naked.

“How do you know Yuu?” Jack asked. It was still rather early to the night, for it was not for another two hours did Jack need to go to bed. It was by sheer luck that Jack had encountered Engel on his nightly jog. He could smell something, or someone, hunting the mer. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was obvious to him that the mer was in danger.

It took some explaining to the other dorm members as to why he brought a mer, of all people, inside to Savanaclaw. Even more, it was rather obvious that Engel didn’t attend the college, as everyone, to an extent, possessed a certain aura that only one could find at Night Raven College, after staying for a while.

Although, it didn’t take long for everyone to accept Engel, either. As strength was favoured amongst the beastmen, Engel had plenty. And tenacity, to boot. No doubt, had Engel been a native of this world, they would surely have been sorted into Savanaclaw.

“Hmm,” Engel pondered out loud, “As you said earlier, I’m not from this world and neither is Yuu.”

Jack nodded, not saying a word, intently listening.

“I’ll explain a few things of which are important before I begin. Our world,” a sip from the mug, “is harsh upon its inhabitants. Non-humans are rare and few, our numbers hunted to its current state. People are encouraged to kill or kidnap us, and use us for their dirty deeds.” Engel let out a hoarse laugh, but they continued.

“Thus, we thrive in secret, away from humans. We’re isolated, and we flee at any instance of human interference. Only a few humans are taken within our communities, Yuu’s mother being one of them. Truly, the Kishimoto family have been rather unfortunate.”

Jack raised a brow at the name, never having heard Yuu’s family name before.

“We met at sea, when Yuu was exploring their mer side. They were lucky enough to meet with their father’s side of the family, as orcas are matrilineal. Although whatever attachment they had with them was soon broken, by humans.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, taking in all the information.

“Humans started to fish in their territory, so they left, and left me in charge of telling Yuu. Thankfully, no one was harmed, however, it was found that Miss Kishimoto was a mer’s wife, that of a siren no less.”

Engel took a sip of their hot chocolate, the beverage slowly, but surely, becoming cold.

“Miss Kishimoto fashioned us these bracelets, and a few other trinkets before she was taken. I believe we were about… I say, 13 summers old by then? Yuu was taken in by my community, so we’ve been close since then. Only about a year ago did we… ah, become one another’s beloveds.”

“I see…”

“Did that answer your question?” Engel watched Jack’s expression, as he processed the new information. It was a lot, after all, Engel basically telling all of Yuu’s life in a very condensed summary.

“I suppose it does.”

-----

Yuu ran out from the mirror, their bracelet practically glowing and humming with life. They stood, searching for Engel. Yuu could smell Engel’s scent in the area, but they didn’t know where they were in.

It wasn’t until they felt their phone buzz in their back pocket did they find out.

Savanaclaw.

As quick as one can be, Yuu hurried and teleported through the mirror once more.

----

“I’ve told Yuu that you’re here, Engel, “Jack stated, as he picked up the mugs of hot chocolate, “I’ll be right back.”

Engel didn’t say a word, still clutching onto their pelt firmly. There was never a moment when they were without their pelt, the only other person ever granted permission to even remotely touch it, was Yuu.

Engel was unsure of how they would tell Yuu of the news from their world, nor was Engel even sure that they could return. Stories of transporting to other worlds always ended the same- no return to their home.

Yet Engel had a feeling that they wouldn’t mind that.

Anything better than that damned world.

----

Yuu ran, ignoring all the curious glances and glares that were thrown their way. They tracked Engel’s scent, and at last…

They saw Engel, pleasantly conversing with Jack, their pelt in their lap, and a content face. Yuu could feel their bracelet cool down, as did Engel. The selkie turned to look at their beloved arrival, tears pricking their eyes, and a smile making its way onto their face.

“It’s been too long, Yuu.”

Yuu ran to them, surprising Jack in the process, and hugged Engel.

“Too long, my love. Too long.”

….as Jack watched, unsure of what to do. He decided it would be best to leave the lovers alone, so he quietly left. Yuu knew the way.

[atsukashii]

❝chance encounter❞ // k. takami

SYNOPSIS: ➛ bickering with Japans number 2 hero about ice cream flavours in a supermarket wasn’t how you expected to spend your Friday night

» CHARACTER PAIRING: keigo takami/hawks x reader

» WORD COUNT: 2.9K

» GENRE: normal?

» WARNINGS: swearing & fluff and just crack really

« masterlist || ao3 »

You had been craving mint chocolate ice cream literally all day. But then again, craving anything with exceedingly high levels of sugar and crap-loads of chocolate wasn’t anything new recently. In times like these, owning your own bakery was both the best decision you’ve ever made, and a huge mistake. Considering you had been up since three am baking away in the kitchen of your cafe and had snacked on basically one of every sweet thing that came out of the oven and anything you had in the display cabinet, if you kept this up you’d have to get a gym membership. But right now, you wanted mint chocolate ice cream. You look down at your stomach and for a moment, the thought of eating healthily crosses your mind. The thought is, however, instantly pushed out by the idea of you, on your couch, in your pj’s, with a pint of mint chocolate ice-cream, watching TV and de-stressing about the absolutely crappy day you had. That sounds way better. 

Walking straight down the candy aisle of the supermarket, you don't even bother glancing at your basket as you toss in chocolates, chips, soft drinks, and any unhealthy food you can physically get your hands on. Out of the corner of your eye, you see an old lady coming towards you with a trolley, who looks up from her list, and eyes your basket with disdain. 

Cut me some slack, you want to snap at her, I’m heartbroken and pissed off! 

You ignore the dirty look she gives you, and snatch a bottle of Coke off the shelf. You were very much aware that you currently looked like you had been digging through garbage all day. Your clothes - even though you wore an apron - no doubt have flour on them, your hair looks like a rat made its home on your head, and your eyes dry and itchy from crying. You knew you looked like a mess, you have just surpassed the threshold of actually caring about your appearance. Like your ex didn’t care about showing up at your shop with his new thing after dumping me only two weeks ago… 

The second your friend and co-owner of the cafe saw him in the store, they kicked him out, wielding the broom like a weapon. You had wished that they smacked him in the face with it, but fearing assault charges - they didn’t. He didn’t leave however, until after he had flaunted his new relationship in your face. You had thankfully moved on past the whole, ‘why’ stage of the breakup, and came to the conclusion it was purely because he was a trash human being.  However, to say that it didn’t hurt seeing him holding another girl’s hand and acting like he used to do with you, with someone else - well that would be a lie. It had been two weeks after all, and considering you had been together for two years - it felt as if those 24 months had meant nothing to him. 

So now, you wanted to drown your pain in chocolates, and mint chocolate ice cream and no one was going to stand in your way.

You walk over to the freezer section of the store with confidence in your step, suddenly excited to get home and start bingeing the romance section on Netflix. That enthusiasm quickly dies as you reach for the handle of the freezer, your eyes locking onto the empty row where your favorite ice cream flavor always sat. You’re joking… You blinked at the glass as if trying to force the food into being before you. 

There. Is. None. Left.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now,” you groan. Of all days for there to be a shortage, it had to be today. You look down at your basket of Oreos, pocky’s, soft drink, chips, and everything else you had craved the second you saw it on the shelves. I’d trade it all for ice cream though… Resting your head on the cold glass of the freezer, you let out a groan of frustration. This was just the topping to an already crappy day. It was ironic when people say not to cry over spilled milk - and here you were wanting to cry over ice cream.

“Tough day?” A voice startles you away from the fridge. Following the sound, your head snaps to your left where your eyes immediately meet a golden pair that have your lungs spluttering and frantically, trying to figure out how the heck to breathe. Okay, he’s attractive. Like really attractive. His golden eyes are practically glowing at you with amusement, his hair looking like liquid gold - and super soft. You kinda want to touch it. In washed-out black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a denim jacket stopping the cold from the open freezers, he looks too attractive to be real. But then your eyes lock onto the red wings, peeking from behind his shoulders and you know who he is in an instant. The question though, was why the heck the number two pro hero Hawks was even currently talking to you right now. Realizing you hadn’t answered him yet, and instead, were just checking him out instead for god knows how long, you clear your throat and reply.

“Tough week.” You correct, pulling yourself together before looking down at your basket again, hoping it doesn’t look as pathetic as the rest of you. “And to top it off, there’s none of my favourite ice cream left.” Letting out a groan, you shift on your feet. You don’t know why you just said that maybe you didn’t want the attractive blonde hero to go just yet. 

With an over-dramatic wince, Hawks leans his shoulder against the glass, as chilled out as the food inside the freezer. “Ouch, I know that feeling. That’s true betrayal,” he says, his eyes playful. It brings a small smile to your lips, and he takes that as an opportunity to stick out his hand to you. “Keigo Takami,” Hawks introduces himself as if you didn’t know who he was. Maybe he doesn’t think you would know… With a friendly smile and butterflies flying frantically inside your stomach, you shake his hand.

“Y/n Y/l/n. It’s nice to meet you,” you reply, trying not to think about how big his hand is compared to your own. God, was there flour on your hands right now? You prayed you had managed to wash it all off fully and that you didn’t suddenly look as run-down as you thought you did. Quickly -but not too fast to make him think you didn’t want to touch him- you drop the handshake and wipe your hands as inconspicuously as you can, on your jeans. 

“Beautiful name,” he glances at the empty ice-cream shelf. “But a girl with questionable choices in ice cream flavours.” You gape at Keigo in utter shock. Oh, he did not just say that.

“You did not just say that.” You repeat out loud. 

“I’m afraid so.” He answers, one hand in his pocket the other holding his basket, and a care-free smile covering his lips. “Who likes mint choc anyways?” For a moment you sputter for a response at this blatant ridicule against the best ice-cream flavour to ever exist. You will happily fight anyone on that, including the number two pro hero in Japan.

“Intelligent people, that’s who.” You argue back. “I bet you’re the kind of person whose favourite is vanilla.” His golden eyebrows shoot up at your words. 

“What’s wrong with good old fashioned vanilla Y/n?” Your name slips off his tongue like pure honey and it would normally send shivers down your spine. No, you will not look past this obvious disrespect against your ice cream preferences, not even for hot guys. No, you will not.

“It’s the most boring flavour to ever exist.”

“And mint choc isn’t?” He asks like it's a loaded question. Shaking your head at both his uneducated taste buds and this whole conversation, it begins to dawn on you that you’re smiling. When was the last time you smiled a lot recently? You question yourself, trying to wind back through your hazy memories of the past two weeks - and coming up with nothing.

“Mint chocolate is the best. You should tell your taste buds that what the ice-cream they think they enjoy is crappy ice-cream.” and Hawks is grinning at you, it’s a smile that is contagious, and has your own growing bigger with every passing word. 

“I’ll be sure to let them know.” God this whole conversation was one of the weirdest you had ever had in your life. And the fact that you had it with a pro hero, and Hawks for that matter...that just made it thirty times more strange. Looking back to the freezer, you decide you still want ice cream and settle for strawberry and cream, which earns a look from hawks as you put it in your basket. 

“Shut up,” you defend, fake glaring at the blonde. Holding his hands up feigning innocence, Keigo shrugs at you.

“I didn’t say anything sweet-cheeks.” Your cheeks in question flush hotly at the term, and you quickly fiddle with the handle of your basket, giving you something to do so you don’t stand there looking like a complete idiot at his blatant flirting. 

“But if you’re going to question my taste buds, then yours must be just as bad. Because last time I checked, Wagon Wheels were still way better than Oreo's.” His eyes meet yours, delight swirling inside his liquid golden irises and you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out your lips, shaking your head slightly.

“Okay, you’re definitely crazy.”

“Only a little bit,” Keigo smirks before his smile falls at the contents of your basket. You square your shoulders, knowing that there’s a chance that he might give you shit for its contents like that old lady from before. But the words that do come from his mouth surprise you.

“Was that the last KitKat?” Immediately, you look at the red packaging of the chocolate block inside your basket, and then back to the pro hero who is now gazing at it like it's made of diamonds. Hawks look’s like you imagine you had when you’d grabbed it off the shelf, seeing that it was the last one and deciding that it had to be some sort of sign that things were looking up for you. That was, of course, before you had seen the travesty of the empty mint chocolate shelf of the supermarket freezer. 

“I’ll trade you.” Keigo suddenly says, making you eye the man. “I’ll trade you the KitKat for this,” he finishes, reaching into his basket and… pulls out a fucking tub of choc mint ice cream. Are you kidding me??

“You’re joking.” Staring at him, at the sheepish smile across his face, you shake your head.

“Afraid not.” He tilts his head at you. “That is unless you don’t want it…” going to lower the tub back into his basket, a noise comes out of your throat that has him smirking again. Embarrassment flooding your features, you shift slightly and glare at the hero.

“I thought you didn’t like that flavour?” You point out, wanting to know what the hell was going on. 

“Oh no I do - it's one of my favourites. I just needed a reason to keep on talking to you,” Keigo admits unashamedly as you feel your cheeks warm again. If I was ever questioning if he was hitting on me…

“Oh,” is all you can manage to get out before your brain begins to catch up with the world again. “Well, in that case, I’ll trade.” Agreeing, you pass him the chocolate block and he gives you the tub of ice cream, your hand brushes him and you try not to act like a crazy person about how attracted to him you are.

“Thank you,” you try to say but it comes out as a slight whisper. His mouth morphs into a cocky smile, which just makes you flush even more.

“No, thank you y/n” he says, shaking the Kit-kat for emphasis in his hand. “They’re the best chocolate to ever exist.”

“Finally we agree on something,” You laugh, finally turning you back on the freezer and begin to walk backward, away from the hero. When he notices you moving from him, with every step away from that you make, he takes one forward, following you through the store.

“No, we agreed on the ice-cream too,” he beams.

“That’s right because really, you were just being an ass and hiding that fact from me.” You sass back, spinning around so you can see where you’re going.

“In order to keep talking to you, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.” He says, hurrying forward until you are walking side by side down a different aisle, moving slowly towards the checkout. Your footsteps are both slow and leisurely as if neither of you wants to reach the check out just yet. “But it worked, didn’t it? So I’d say it was worth your glare.” You turn that ‘glare’ back on him and raise an eyebrow at his antics. 

“You could have said something else you know.”

“Such as?” He asks, genuinely curious. You weren’t an intimidating person, so you weren’t sure as to why a guy such as Hawks would be wary of approaching you. Especially when the reality is that those roles are definitely reversed. Was your resting bitch face that bad?

“You could have said, ‘Hey, I think you’re cute. Can I have your number?” Rolling his eyes at your words, disbelievingly. 

“You’re telling me that line would work on someone like you?” Unsure if that was a compliment or not, you stop in the middle of the aisle causing him to stop next to you. You look into his eyes, trying to judge where his mind is but he’s hard to read. The only thing you knew, was that his smile seemed genuine and very amused by you. That was good enough for you.

“Try me.” You test, confidence coming up from who knows where. With raised eyebrows and calling your bluff, Hawks smirks at you. 

“Hey y/n, I know we just met but I think you’re really cute. Can I have your number?” He teases.

“Sure.” Keigo blinks at you for a moment, then two - as if he can’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. First, it comes out slowly, then all at once, the corners of his mouth pull up into a dazzling smile, and a deep laugh rumbles from his chest. It’s the smile though, and the happiness that seeps from him that has your head feeling dizzy. A small smile cracks across your face as you begin to rattle off your number. Keigo scrambles for his phone and quickly types it in, not missing a beat for a second. One he slips it back into his back pocket, you move your basket to your other arm and walk away from the hero. Only looking over your shoulder when you’re a few feet away. 

“It was nice to meet you Hawks.” Keigo runs a hand through his blonde hair, a delighted chuckle slipping past his lips that has you grinning. He had so underestimated you.  

“You’re going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?”

“Oh, you bet bird boy.” You say, turning away from him and walking to the checkout. Today might not be that bad after all, you think as the older lady scans your items and bags them. It’s only then that you realize again that the whole time you had been talking to Keigo, your crappy day had been forgotten and you had actually laughed. The entire thing, he did because he noticed you frazzled and looking down. Your respect for the hero grew, and it took everything in you to not turn around to where you knew he was now standing a few people behind you in the line. Instead, you left the store, the smile not moving from your face. You don’t even make it a few feet from the glass automatic doors of the supermarket before your phone pings, vibrating in your jacket pocket.  Reaching inside you look at the new text, immediately knowing who it’s from. 

From Unknown: Want to go get dinner with me sometime this week? - the KitKat fiend. 

You giggle at the way he ends it, and quickly tap out a response. 

As long as it’s not seafood I’m there. You reply, before you turn around, looking through the glass windows and finding his golden hair quickly. In the midst of a conversation with the store clerk, he suddenly reaches for his pocket and grabs his phone with furrowed brows. Suddenly, a beautiful, bright smile that even has the shop lady hesitating with her scanning just to witness it, stretches across his face. Keigo quickly fiddles with his phone before putting it away and turning his attention to the blushing woman behind the counter. Looks like he has that effect on everyone.  Your phone vibrates in your hand.

To bird-boy: It's a date. 

Who would have thought a small chance encounter with the number two hero where you bicker over ice cream would change your life in such a monumental way.

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: v

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2  ||   chapter 3   ||  chapter 4   ||  chapter 6  || 

word count: ~4k

coming to terms now, are we?

warnings: descriptions of medical settings, discussion of surgery and injury but nothing graphic, god fluff, nasty big fluff

——

wow. halfway through y’all. thank you to each and every ONE of you who have given this story a chance. enjoy some fluff and get ready for next week 👀 once again, beta-ed by the wuv @keiqos !!

||||||||||||||||||

Exhaustion had long since clawed a hole in your skull. 

It was one of the many forms of malefactum that came from your fucking quirk, damn it to hell. The days following any sort of intense overstimulation episode of yours were always hellish. Constant fatigue, burning migraines, dry eyes, and confusion always waited for you by the time you rolled out whatever pushed you over the edge.

The villain attack was probably the worst episode you’d had, ever. 

The entire trip to the hospital had been sort of a nightmare. There were so many people that needed treatment after the attack, so many of them worse off than yourself. You were lucky enough to get into a dark hospital room fairly quickly, allowing some of your symptoms to dull. 

You were just coherent and aware enough to deal with everyone you needed to, paperwork and legalities of your visit sorted. You even managed to send a few texts to your parents and work groupchat to confirm that you were safe. 

After a myriad of late-night tests and exams, it was confirmed that the next morning, you’d have a procedure to mend your leg.

...

Fixing the internal damage to your leg caused by the tearing of the glass was a fairly quick affair, according to your kind-smiled surgeon.

“I know it seemed abrupt, to do it so quickly,” The surgeon stuffed her hands in the pocket of her scrubs. “But, we’ve flown in extra medical personnel to help deal with injuries from the attack and well, you’re an easy fix.”

You smiled, the best you could, groggy with the anesthetic, “I’m glad it isn’t too bad.”

“Nope! Not at all,” She laughed, far too pleasant for all the chaos just outside your dimly lit hospital room. “We’ll keep you here tonight, and you should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon. You’ll need to keep weight off of that leg for about three weeks. We’ll have a follow-up appointment then, and make sure you’re healing alright. Sound good?”

You nodded, some tension releasing from your chest.

The procedure left you with a heavy plastic boot, clasped up to your knee. Not to mention your body ached with fatigue. 

Most of the rest of that day was spent spinning in and out of sleep, only waking for basic checks and a delivery of flowers you received from the teashop’s owners complete with a passive-aggressive reminder that ‘this had nothing to do with us, you can’t sue <3.’

 Your constant company was Hawks’s scarlet feather. As you moved through the bends of your quirk and post-surgical recovery, you held onto it like a lifeline. With each stroke of the soft filaments, your heart rate monitor would beep slower and slower towards a relaxed rhythm. 

It made you think of him, and how he felt with your quirk activated. 

Despite how shitty the circumstances were, really feeling Keigo with your quirk was heavenly. Feeling him in general, physically was a fucking blessing. You spent a lot of time that night and first day at the hospital fantasizing about how the beat of his heart felt like amber drops on your tongue and orange-bound warmth in your chest.

You wanted more of it.

 Keigo stayed around to help deal with the mess, for once in his career. It was weird for him to spend the following day after the attack helping out on the scene. It was even weirder for the other Pros around that were aware of his reputation of simply not doing that.

It was out of character for him.

But, then again, Keigo hadn’t ever spent as much time at someplace he enjoyed like the teashop. Hell, the whole street. He’d patrolled plenty of areas for long stretches of time, but he’d never grown attached.

You were, obviously, a big part of that.

Seeing you hurt left him frazzled and fucked, and staying behind to help pick up the mess and provide aid made him feel a hell of a lot better. Sure, it was different, having local Pros look to him for guidance when he had to purely rely on his training from the Commission as opposed to his professional experience. He did well, he knew, especially based on the way the scene calmed even when he simply flew around.

Keigo had the power to bring people ease, even if he struggled with it himself. 

The idea made him think back to you, undoubtedly still in pain, but more than likely entirely fine. He ignored the urge to text you anxiously as he was still parsing over the very sweet interaction the two of you had, even if it was in such a bad circumstance. 

Your sweetness at the end was his constant reminder that you would be okay. 

The implication and Keigo’s knowledge post- ‘the miel incident,’ as he was calling it, was obvious, and god, he wanted to fucking drown in it. The thought of having you so close that he could hear your heartbeat and feel the drum of your voice against your chest made him weak. 

He was so fucking weak for you.

It was distracting, as it always was. It seemed fairly unavoidable especially as anxiety chewed at him. The one thing that lulled him was the far off feeling of the feather he had tucked in your hand. It had to be close to you still, the beat of your heart sending him shudders if he focused on it hard enough.

It became too much, thinking of you.

As his feathers swept piles of rubble, he pulled out his phone, the sun beginning to sink in the evening sky. 

 You had spent most of your recovery time in and out of consciousness, enjoying the time to rest and sleep. 

A short buzz from your phone forced you into a half-wakeful state. You reached to the table next to the hospital bed, grappling for your phone.

 [birdboy]: hey r u alive, 

[birdboy]: how r u feeling

[birdboy]: speak 2 me

 You cracked a sleepy smile. 

 [you]: alive, tired, surgery-ied. 

 You took a quick snap of your booted, propped up foot.

 [you]: getting discharged tomorrow babyyyy

[birdboy]: oh fuck what happened?

[birdboy]: u sure ur good

 The feather against your collarbone twitched, filaments waving. You thought little of it.

 [you]: i tore some shit in my leg

[you]: and yes, just tired as fuck and want to be home

[you]: hospitals SUCK

[birdboy]: true, true

[birdboy]: would u... 

[birdboy]: like a visit perhaps?

[you]: u sure??

[you]: i know ur busy and i dont wanna use up ur freetime

 There was a pause in Keigo’s nearly instant responses.

 [birdboy]: dove.

 Your breath stuttered in your chest. That was newer; you only remembered it vaguely from the . It felt far more intimate than just ‘angel,’ and it made you shiver as you read it.

 [birdboy]: busy schedule??

[birdboy]: i’ll make the time angel

[birdboy]: i’d love to come visit u

 You couldn’t help the smitten expression that burst across your face.

 [you]: and i’d love to see you

 You wished you could’ve continued the conversation, but your night nurse knocked to offer you pain medication and sedatives and you couldn’t say no to more rest. Your mind and body needed it. 

As quickly as it was administered, you were out again. 

 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 You were exhausted. Still. 

When you heard voices just outside of your door, you couldn’t help cracking open your dry eyes. It seemed far too early for them to collect your vitals. The room was still dark, large windows only showing a trace of the dawn’s light stretching from the east.

Your sleep-addled mind stretched to listen:

“Thank you so much for the autograph! My son is such a huge fan of yours.”

“Oh, really! Tell him I say hi! I really adore my fans.”

Giggling.

“Is she a fan?”

“Sort of, more of a friend of mine.”

 He... said it again.

 A shaft of light sprayed into the room, your quirk firing at the sudden intrusion. You groan, pawing at your eye with your fist, the feather held between your fingers blocking some of the light.

Even with your diminished vision and tired mind, you still caught it when he laughed at your reaction, stepping into the room.

Honey, softness, cream and heat that made your chest thrum like embers.

“H-Hawks?” Your voice was still itchy with sleep. 

“That’s me.” His laugh rolled over you as your quirk receded, palms thrumming with the silkenness of his voice, “It’s good to see you, dove.”

“S’nice to see you too,” Your chest thrummed with his words and you couldn’t restrain the smile that spread across your face, “‘Ya know, you woke me up, just now.”

Hawks gave you a little chuckle, moseying his way to a chair nearby the bed and window, “Sorry about that. I had to sneak in here before official visiting hours so I didn’t cause a ‘scene’.”

You snorted. 

“You, causing a scene?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him, “Hawks? Never. Not once.”

He stifled a laugh, dragging the thinly-padded chair closer to the bed and leaning back into it, “Glad to see you’re in good spirits, considering you’re still here and all.”

“From what I can tell, it could be a lot worse, especially compared to other people that were there,” The end of your sentence turned sullen, your expression darkening. 

Hawks let out a little sigh, “It wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure. But, you’re safe, and most folks are safe. Bright side.”

“Bright side.” You repeated, softer, looking up from the plain sheets to meet his gaze. 

You took him in, quickly. 

He looked a bit worse for wear, the exhaustion from the days before still visible on his features. The dark circles under his eyes almost looked worse, perhaps uncovered and deeper since the attack. His wings weren’t even visible from your angle, plucked too short and sparse to be of much use. 

But, Hawks was, undoubtedly, still stunning. 

It was almost distracting, how unavoidable mentally eating him up was. You’d felt what he was like during the attack and that had apparently broken some mental dam for you. Holding back just how much you liked him seemed futile, at least mentally. 

You would let yourself be honest, at least with yourself, as a treat. 

What probably also pushed you over the edge was the fact that he wasn’t in his hero uniform, for once. You’d only ever seen him in his tan and black get up before. Seeing him casually dressed was shocking and very hot.

Hawks wore a simple black long sleeve with a long, wool jacket over it, black jeans, nothing seemingly extravagant except for the nicer looking chunky sneakers he wore and the fat gold watch on his wrist. It was all designer, knowing his paycheck. Without all of his normal regalia, you could better see that his pierced ears carried some light yellow stones that played off his eyes.

His feathery golden waves were messy, falling over his forehead and temples. The curves and angles of his jaw looked accented by the rising dawn light that was just beginning to filter into the room. There was the smallest quirk in his plump lips, but it hardly detracted from how stunning he was. 

He was remarkably gorgeous, naturally, and you let yourself think about it freely.

 Keigo felt a bit bad, seeing you in your state. 

He tried to be subtle, looking you up and down, heart-thumping his chest as the feather in your hand-picked up your own pulse. It had sped up when he entered the room, even more so when you started to beam at him despite your state.

You looked like a bit of a mess, and with anyone else, Keigo might’ve indulged himself in being a little bit of sarcastic shit about it, but he didn’t with you. It didn’t seem right. 

Your booted foot was propped up, a hospital gown askew over your collarbones under some thin blankets you were nested underneath. Your dark circles could’ve been worse, but your eyes were shining and alert, all directed on him it made him ache all over in the best way.

 The feather twitched in your hand, your gaze darting to it. Heat spread across your cheeks. 

“Oh, uh, shit,” You stretched your arm to pass the feather back to him. “Here’s this back. Sorry, I’ve kinda been holding on to it... a lot.”

“It’s alright, that’s why I gave it to you,” Hawks assured you, the feather whisking from your hand on its own and back to the downy stubs that Hawks had left. “Just a little reminder that good ol’ Number Two is looking out for you.”

You hardly needed a reminder. Thoughts of Hawks had been filling your head since it had stopped from swirling from your quirk. The thought of him leaving a bit of him with you only warmed your insides. 

“How could I ever forget?” You leaned back into your pillows, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Thank you, Hawks.”

Hawks blinked at you, reaching down to rustle something down by his feet, “For?”

“You know, saving my ass.”

“That’s my job, angel.”

“Still. You thank me every time I make you your drinks, right?” You shrugged at his wide-eyed expression. “Same principle. Except, your life isn’t on the line when I make you lattes.”

“Oh, angel,” Hawks drawled and deflected. “That is a false statement. I rely on those. They’re my lifeblood.”

A little realization dawned on you.

You gave him a sad little smile, rubbing your own knuckles for some semblance of comfort, “It’s gonna be a while until I can provide anything life-giving, then.”

The teashop was destroyed and who knew how long I’d be until they reopened. Not to mention that your leg was post opt and you couldn’t exactly work on it. 

Practicality aside, what saddened you most was that Hawks didn’t have much of a reason to see you without the shop. 

As much as you had feared it at the beginning of your friendship, you had gotten comfortable with Hawks’s presence in the shop and in your life. 

Too comfortable, and now it was biting you in the ass.

Thorns stabbed in your chest.

 Keigo noticed your slow-falling expression and frowned, “What’s on your mind?”

 “It’s nothing, just, uh...” You shook your head, blinking up at him,

Your voice cut off as your gaze refused to settle on him, Keigo clearly seeing your discomfort. 

“Without the teashop, you know...” Then, with that honesty that scared him, you finally met his eyes, gripping the sheets of your hospital bed, “I’m gonna miss seeing you.”

The principle made Keigo’s mind swirl.

You missing him.

His thoughts slipped back to ‘the miel incident’, and your mutual feelings that you very obviously didn’t fucking know about. If you did, he was sure you’d know that he would be missing you a lot without your normal interactions. 

This certainly wasn’t the setting to tell you, you were still stuck with an IV and probably somewhat traumatized by the event, even if you seemed in good spirits.

But, he could help assuage your fears. Subtly. Let himself use his honed arts to comfort rather than connive. 

“Dove, it’s alright,” He gave the softest smile he could, shreds of real vulnerability in it coaxed out by you without you even being aware of it. “Just because the teashop isn’t around right now doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

The stunned expression on your face would’ve been cute if it didn’t make Keigo’s heart stutter painfully in his chest.

 “You... You do?” Your voice was so soft, you surprised yourself.

Hawks was a busy, busy man. Why the fuck would he bother with you? There was no cute coffee shop aesthetic in your foreseeable future. Maybe some decent drinks, but you wouldn’t be very mobile. You had some supplies and gear to make teas and some drinks at your apartment, but nothing as expansive as was destroyed at the shop. If it was flirty banter keeping him near, there were certainly other people he could go to for some natural chemistry, right?

He doesn’t need you.

Why the fuck would he bother with you, outside of what you could offer him?

“Dove,” Hawks’s voice shook you from your thoughts. “I’m here right now, aren’t I?”

“Uh,” You stuttered, mind catching up to the very obvious conclusion that, yes, Hawks does like having you around. “I guess, yeah.”

He frowned, leaning back in his chair as one of his smaller feathers whisked to your forehead, patting it a few times, “(Y/N), I like spending time with you. I care about you.”

Oh.

That was a little more vulnerability and truth than either of you expected.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, seeing a hint of unbearable fear before it was wiped away.

 You didn’t know it, but it was just you that pushed that fear off Keigo’s face.

He forced his shaking hands to be still, mouth drying after saying words that he wasn’t sure he was ready to say yet. God, they were true, but were they okay? For him, or you?

And then you gave him the gooiest, biggest smile you’d ever graced him with, “I care about you too, Hawks. Thank you.”

 It made both of your guts turn to mush.

In a stunned moment of silence, both of your breaths stuck in each of your throats. Neither of you could tear your gazes away from each other.

You both tightened your grip on your respective fabrics, your heart rate monitor beeping faster as you swallowed. 

Hawks opened his mouth, inhaling, but he was quickly interrupted by a knock on the door. A head poked in, the same nurse as before.

“Hey, sweetheart, we need to take your vitals quick,” She came in, waving to Hawks gleefully.

Hawks’s softened eyes were gone, you realized. Torn away from the moment and now speaking comfortably with the nurse as she checked what she needed to.

Your hands shook.

 Keigo noticed it, too, his own trembling as well. 

 The idle chat between Hawks and the nurse fell on your ears, though you didn’t process any of it. You were far too busy mentally coming to terms with the fact that Hawks cared about you. And, based on his tone and that familiar (but usually hidden) adoration in his eyes, it was a bit deeper than you expected and knew how to swallow.

You took a slow breath as the nurse left, Hawks waving with a wide smile plastered on his face.

When the door shut once more, there was a lull of silence that settled over the room. More early morning sunlight was beginning to slant into the room, throwing gold over the otherwise drab and lifeless greys and whites of the room.

The intense mood had been thoroughly interrupted by the nurse, but perhaps it was a hidden blessing. 

Both of you were terrified, but so deeply yearning. You both were a bit too raw. 

Maybe it would be better to let the fear fade, just a bit more. 

 “Oh, shit, I nearly forgot,” Hawks reached down next to him, pulling out a bag you hadn’t realized he had brought him. He set it on the edge of the bed. “I got you something.”

“Hawks.” You groaned, shaking your head and running your hands down your face. “You need to stop being so nice.”

“Can’t do that, (Y/N). I’ll be as nice as I want,” You could see that his grin was shit-eating through the space between your fingers. “Besides, you haven’t even looked at it yet.”

You took the bag into your lap, noticing the ruffles of tissue paper that puffed from the top. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” You told him, albeit still pulling the paper from the top to reveal a small, wrapped, fluffy object.

Hawks hummed, leaning forward to set his elbows on his knees, “You’re right. I didn’t have to. But, I wanted to.”

As carefully as you could, somewhat suspicious, you peeled back to the paper. 

Your eyes widened.

It was a plushie, round and soft with a filling that made it feel like a marshmallow in your arms. The design was familiar, a character from one of your favorite cartoons, but you’d never talked about it with Hawks.

“I figured you could use a little pick me up after all this,” Hawks tilted his head and winked. “Did I get the character right?”

Your mouth fell open, blinking, “How did you... know? That I liked this one?” 

“The little pins on your apron,” Hawks tapped his chest. “I figured you must be pretty fond of this one, since you had a couple of buttons for them, right?”

You wanted to give you a coherent, thankful statement to Hawks. Really, you did. Instead, you stared down at the doughy, round-eyed plushie. Maybe a few overwhelmed tears gathered in your eyes, which you promptly sucked down and shook your head.

“Thank you, really,” You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But, fuck, Hawks—”

 For a moment, Keigo thought you were upset with him. Based on the slight contorting of your face, and the wetness in your eyes, his heart seized up. His fingers twitched from where they cupped his chin, wanting to shoot out and comfort you somehow. 

However, Keigo stayed put as you turned back towards him, plushie carefully gathered in your arms and hugged snugly and perfectly to your chest.

“You gotta stop being so fucking nice,” You sighed, pressing your face into the soft fabric of the gift. Your words were muffled, but Keigo heard each one perfectly. “I’m gonna start getting ideas, you know.”

Sure, Keigo could’ve pushed some of your buttons and fluffed himself up for some fun, flirty banter that would be undoubtedly lovely, but it wasn’t the time. You’d had a very long and tiring few days, and Keigo could see and imagine that you were in all sorts of disrepair.

Keigo stood slowly, moving just next to your bed where you turned your head upwards to look at him. Carefully, he placed a worn hand on your shoulder, feeling the small bit of bare skin exposed by the thin gown.

“Don’t worry about that right now, dove, okay?” Keigo let his voice go soft, quiet, and gentle as he could make it. Without thinking, he squeezed your shoulder, rubbing his thumb just under your collarbone.

It was too much, maybe. But neither of you would complain.

Keigo could see and feel the way you relaxed, eyes going half-lidded and leaning into his touch, even putting the slightest amount of your weight into it. 

It was probably the most precious and sweet gesture he’d ever experienced. 

He made it his goal to make more like it. 

(Anything to see you so instantly mushy.)

 “I saw a coffee machine when I was coming in,” Hawks voice was a hum, hand on your shoulder not moving. You didn’t want it to. The heat pressing against your skin made you melt. “Want me to grab us some? I know I need it.”

You managed to giggle, craning your neck to fully look up at Hawks. You swore you could see the slightest quiver in his bottom lip.

“I’d love some.”

“You sure you can stomach shitty coffee?” The thumb rubbed over your collarbone, Keigo’s pretty eyes searching your face, portraying far more than your words. “That’s my territory, angel.”

“I guess I’ll stoop to your taste,” You gave him a smirk like sweet lightning and tentatively, carefully, reached your hand up to wrap around his own, squeezing. “I take my coffee black.”

 ||||||||||||||||||||||

taglist: @thepandapopo @sinclairsamess

[captainkappa]

Fanfic:: In Other Hands

When Din and Cobb go to take care of some slavers, Cobb is disarmed and has to improvise with the weapons that have fallen off Din’s utility belt.

Din/cobb, post-season 2, canon-typical violence

Shout out to coffeequill for betaing!

Link to AO3

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As Cobb picks off another slaver running in fear of his life, he realizes how regular this is becoming. And it has all started with a meeting with the new self-proclaimed ‘King of Tatooine.’

He has invited all kinds of authority to Jabba’s old palace, now his. Even though Mos Peglo isn’t on the map anymore, Cobb wakes up to a stern-faced woman at his front door all the same. The conversation on the ride over hasn’t been great, but it does confirm the rumor that floated around Tatooine in the past few weeks.

The new king is the Boba Fett.

He has heard stories about Boba Fett, who hadn’t? Late enough in a cantina in Mos Eisley, it wouldn’t take long before someone started talking about their buddy who had family who had a friend who got taken in by the famed bounty hunter, never to return.

So yeah, Cobb is man enough to admit that, as he’s led through the dark, old palace, he is a little on edge. At the door, no one even asks for his blaster, which is a clear enough message as he’d ever heard.

His heart damn near plummets when he faces the man himself though.

Because if he is the rightful owner of the suit of armor Cobb had, he is properly fucked.

And damn did he ever look better in it, all polished and properly painted. He could see the glint of what might be his old armor behind him, on proud display.

Cobb tries to shake himself out of his fear and take in the rest of the room. The woman who led him there takes position on the other side of Fett. There are other people in the chamber, clearly all from Tatooine, looking just as scrappy as he. He tries his best to look his most mayoral as Fett starts talking about his plans for the planet. It is… far more humanitarian than he expected, with plans laid out for wiping out the slavers who take more than they give.

Cobb instantly likes Fett way more.

Then he is asking they introduce themselves and when the line gets to Cobb, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m Cobb Vanth, marshal of Mos Pelgo. And I hoped Mando mentioned that I wasn’t the one to destroy the jetpack.”

Boba looks at him for a moment before letting out a laugh that echoed in the chamber. He turns around to face the suit of armor.

But then it moves.

He can’t help the words coming out of his mouth, interrupting the new king.

“Mando, is that you?”

And with that, the entire meeting is thrown into disarray. Cobb barely pays attention to the others as he meets Mando halfway up the steps to clasp his hand in both of his, making sure he’s real. Questions are flying out of his mouth a mile a minute; where’s the kid? When did he get back? How the hell do he and Boba know each other?

Mando and Boba share a look and with a shrug, the king dismisses them, the other authority figures looking confused as Mando leads him back into the palace, where they can catch up in peace.

Cobb tries not to think about how Mando’s hand doesn’t leave his until they’ve arrived at the room.

It’s been a couple of months since they first met, but Mando keeps making his way in Cobb’s memories. He tries to play it off as simple appreciation, he can appreciate the pure physicality of everything Mando had done, that was normal. But the longer he thinks about how Mando handled his son, the affection that could be stored in shoulders and head tilts, he has to admit that he’s harboring something else fiercely in his heart.

But those thoughts leave temporarily as Mando describes everything that happened since he left and Maker, if it doesn’t bring a tear to his eye seeing the restraint to which he described being separated from his son. Cobb can tell he’s not telling him everything that happened that day, but he doesn’t mind. Thankfully, Mando has managed to get contact of the Jedi since then, so he can see him and visit occasionally, but it’s just not the same.

Cobb is considering putting his hand on top of Mando’s when there’s a knock at the door and Boba, helmetless, lets himself in. He’s just as intimidating a figure with or without it, scars telling enough of a story as to the character of the man who proclaimed himself king.

Conversation flits between business and pleasure, stories about Boba, Mando, and Fennec on Tatooine. It’s clear the three of them have been planet side for a couple of weeks, if the body language between them is anything to go by. Cobb lets himself feel a little offended before letting it go. Mando clearly had some shit to parse through and Boba and Fennec had been there for him.

Any anxiety Cobb had about meeting the king has left. He leaves the palace with a scheduled date to take out some slavers near Mos Pelgo.

-=-

And now here Cobb is, a couple missions in, ducked behind some crates, picking off slavers one by one as they run out of the cave where Mando has since been let loose. He’s almost sad to miss seeing how Mando fights, especially if the terrified looks of those who thought they’d escaped are anything to do by.

It’s just them on this mission. He takes small pride when Mando vouched for his skill in front of Fett, letting him know they didn’t need any more help. It’s nice to know he’s earned Mando’s trust.

Ducking behind the crate, he’s swapping out power cells when Mando gets thrown out of the cave, rolling with a low grunt. He’s quickly followed by three of the biggest guy’s Cobb has ever seen, human all of them.

“Mando!”

He gets a hand waved at him for his trouble as Mando staggers to his feet, pulling out the spear on his back. At one point, Cobb had wondered if it was just decorative, but seeing Mando fight with it, as it sings in the air, the impact it makes on arms and heads, reveals it to be anything but.

But his fancy fighting with the goons isn’t helping him in a three on one match, especially with how long they’ve been at it already.

He takes another solid hit and goes flying farther away from Cobb, items from his belt going spinning into the sand.

Cobb shoves the battery pack in the blaster and tries to take a couple shots at the slavers before the trigger clicks.

Jammed.

“Dank farrik,” he yells, slapping the side of the blaster. All that gets him is a stinging palm.

He glances up to see all three goons going for Mando. Thinking quick, he fishes the knife he keeps stored in his boot and chucks it at the closest guy, only it goes lower than expected and pings off the armor.

Shit.

Cobb quickly scans for any weapon available as he hears Mando continue to get his ass handed to him. There’s a knife, but Cobb doesn’t trust his aim a second time, but it’s the thing beside it that catches his eye. It looks like a hilt, with what must be a spring-loaded blade inside, even if the size seems wrong for such a weapon.

As if he can tell what he’s thinking, Mando yells from across the way, “Don’t touch it!”

Well, with an invitation like that.

Cobb knows he’ll only have one shot at this. He vaults over the crate and scoops up the hilt. He gets a brief glance at it, figures the best place to hold it without hurting himself before charging in.

He takes a running leap before latching himself around the closest guy. He pulls his arm back for a swing.

He pushes the button and instead of a vibro-blade, a jet-black beam of light cuts through the man’s head as smooth as bantha butter.

“Fuck!” Cobb yells, falling off the man as his other arm screams in pain. He scrambles off the man’s back as he falls forward, dead as a doornail.

The blade stays there, letting out a faint humming as it lies in the sand, partially buried from where the man fell. The sand bubbles around the blade, heating up impossibly fast as it sits there, looking like a hole to the middle of the planet against the glare of the sand.

Before he can comprehend the power of the sword, a noise in front of him told him Mando still had trouble on his hands.

Cobb struggles to his feet, trying to pull out the blade as cleanly as possible before walking forward.

“Hey!” he yells, throat going dry as he catches a glance at the state of Mando, shoulders heaving and armor not looking terribly pretty.

That at least gets one of the goon’s attention, who looks at the blade in his hand and at his dead buddy.

“Leave ‘im alone.”

The guy doesn’t appreciate that and gets out his own blade, long and curved like a machete, before charging.

Cobb has never been a swordfighter, so he tries to go with motion that felt natural, a two-handed grip as he raises the sword to block the incoming attack.

He’s not expecting the blade to cut through the knife like it’s nothing. His balance thrown off, he tries to use the momentum to shove into the other man, forcing him to stumble back.

The other man looks just as surprised as Cobb feels, but he has a slightly better grip on the strange weapon. He takes the slavers hesitation to lunge with a swipe to the chest. The man goes down quick, a visible molten line through his armor.

It’s at that instant the smell of burn hair and flesh hits him. He falls to his knees, blade slipping through his fingers. He hears it sizzle and pop against the sand, but he can’t bring himself to right it.

He doesn’t know how long he stares at what lay before him.

“Cobb?” His head snaps up as he sees Mando blocking one of the suns. His armor is littered with blaster residue and a pauldron is hanging to his arm by a thread.

He should ask if he’s okay, if he’s handled the other guy.

“What the fuck is that?” he asks instead, pointing to the black blade.

Mando’s shoulder’s drop in a way that makes him expect a lecture, but then the Mandalorian stiffens, rushing to his side with a speed he wouldn’t have expected after that fight.

“You’re hurt!” And Cobb looks down at where he is looking before quickly looking away.

His left vambrace has been cut in two. Cobb only gets a glance at the wound before he has to look away, gut clenching. There is a huge gash on his arm that already looks cauterized.

“Easy, easy,” Mando says quietly, head suddenly right by his shoulder. “C’mon.”

“I can still walk,” Cobb says. He can tell he’s not convinced as steadier hands help him to his feet.

He swears he can hear Mando laugh as the wind kicks up and he feels his scarf be pulled up over his nose.

The last thing he hears before he passes out is Mando’s low voice saying, “We’ll be back at Boba’s soon.”

-=-

When Cobb wakes up, his head feels like it weighs as much as a bantha.

He puts two and two together when his head lolls around and he glimpses at the dim room around him, at white bandages around his arm. With no room looking nearly this nice at Mos Pelgo, he must be in Boba’s palace and he must be pumped full of drugs after the fight.

There’s movement close to his arm and he looks up and Mando is right there, beside him, fidgeting with something.

“Hey,” Cobb says, hoping the feeling of cotton in his mouth will pass.

Mando sits up straighter, visor turning to face him. “Hey, how do you feel?”

“Like my arm has been trampled to death, but it’s attached, so I can’t be too mad. You alright?”

He gets a head tilt at that. “I’m not the one in the medical wing.”

Cobb waves him away with his good arm. “Yeah, yeah, but you still took a beating from those guys.”

The helmet ducks down, and Cobb bites his lip to avoid blabbing about how cute the gesture is. “I’m fine.”

Cobb clicks his tongue. “Now don’t you go looking like that.”

Another head tilt, but Cobb continues, “If you feel bad about what happened back there, don’t. I won’t hear of it. You told me not to touch the laser sword and I still did. And I’d do it again if it meant saving your hide.”

He blanches, having wanted to keep that last part to his chest.

Mando, to his credit, doesn’t comment on it. He reaches down and unclips the hilt from his side and ignites it. Cobb can’t help but flinch back into the bed as it comes to life, humming in that eerie way as it did in the desert. It’s somehow more striking here, the glowing outline more obvious in the dim light of the room.

“It’s called a darksaber, Mando begins, “I won it on Moff Gideon’s ship by accident. It… it’s a symbol of authority and power for Mandalorians.”

“Oh, is that all?”

That gets him a huff of a laugh from Mando as he extinguishes the blade and slips it back on. A quiet descends into the room. Now, Cobb can handle silence and he can handle being still. He just can’t handle both at the same time.

“I hope Boba doesn’t charge me for room and board.”

“He was impressed, said you could stay here as long as needed.”

Oh. The knot of worry that had appeared out of nowhere unravels in Cobb’s chest. He’d been at least expecting a debt of some kind, hackles still raised even if he liked the man, the distrust of authority running deep.

“We’ll probably get called for more jobs after you’re healed, though.”

“That sounds like the opposite of a problem,” Cobb says with a smirk.

A sudden tiredness floats over him like a blanket and he closes his eyes for what feels like a second but could be any amount of time.

There’s a moment where he thinks Mando has left the room, before he registers the feeling of soft fingers on his hand. He cracks open an eye and sees Mando still sitting where he was, his gloves off as he runs his thumb over his knuckles, catching in scars and pocket marks Cobb had collected throughout the years.

Cobb shifts and Mando’s hand stills. Acting on instinct and ignoring the feeling that floods through him, he holds Mando’s hand as tightly as he dare with the bandage.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Mando says, voice quiet.

“I just woke up.”

Mando lets out a huff that might be considered a laugh. “You were only asleep for half an hour.”

“Alright, then you gotta go to bed too.”

“Cobb…”

“Mando…”

“It’s Din.”

He swallows down his feelings once more, not trusting himself in this drugged up state to say more. “Alright, Din, go to bed. You got roughed up too.”

“Alright,” his voice trails off but then he’s clearing his throat and saying, “Thank you. I- I haven’t had the chance to say that yet.”

This time, Cobb is able to keep the words close to his chest as he drifts back to sleep.

Anytime, partner.

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 6

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link!

Summary: Revelations. History. Collision.

Warnings: Descriptions canonical violence in Journey To The West, smoking and drug use on others.

Author’s note: So... this was supposed to be up on Saturday last week... I thought I had posted it, but due to issues offline I had completely forgotten. But I went over this chapter, edited it, and moved some things from it into the next chapter for a better flow and therefore it is a smidgen short! (No special spoilers here.)

Chapter 6: Knew you weren’t human but who’d guess?

“Jin! Jin, what’s happening!?” MK yelled, watching as the Gold Demon in the form of his mentor fell to his knees and screamed. His entire form glitched and rippled as the world around them shook and shook and shook so hard that they could barely keep on their feet. The world rippled around them, wisps of pieces of the ground and building glitching in front and between them blocking their vision. “JIN!”

The demon didn’t reply, the longer he screamed the more none of the trio was even certain that he could, curling into himself and bending at the waist so much that his forehead dug into the ground beneath him. And suddenly the shaking was gone while the pained screaming remained.

“What is happening!?” Mei whirled around in the hopes of seeing anything that could give them a hint as to what was happening. “W-what the hell?”

No one was reacting. Every single fake person in the Calabash city just kept on going about their day as if the visage of the Monkey King doubled over and screaming in agony wasn’t in front of them at all.

“Oh please,” a voice rang out from all around them. “Did you think I wouldn’t catch on? No cheating allowed in my little game you four.”

The trio looked at each other with wide eyes. They didn’t recognize this voice at all. It was feminine, that was much was certain, smooth and calm like nothing was happening at all and it was spoken as if through the opening to a vast cave that made it vibrate the very air surrounding them.

“What did you do to Jin!?” MK yelled back, kneeling down to put a hand on his back. Jin’s screams had begun to die down and now he was shaking violently, though whether it was because whatever had caused him to start screaming had stopped or if it was because he physically could not anymore.

“Just a little incentive for him to cooperate while I do a little something something,” the voice rang out again, a high pitched and haughty chuckle following soon after. “It’s amazing what these two little buffoons have managed to create while being sooooo bad at figuring out how to actually use it. Almost as clever as growing little kits.”

“Kits?” Red Son muttered, looking to the sky and narrowing his gaze.

“Shit...” Jin suddenly groaned out, not getting up from his place on the ground. “What did you do to me?” He tried to turn his head but didn’t seem to have the energy to do so and the sight of this happening with Sun Wukong’s face made MK feel sick to his stomach.

“Incentive, I said,” The voice sounded exasperated now, a low drawn out groan sounding out. “You should be very familiar with it by now, though this batch is more of the paralyzing variety than the sleeping one so maybe it should be expected for you to not realize what I had blown into your secret little calabash.”

Vapor. The voice was most definitely Vapor, or whoever was hiding behind that moniker. The realization they had had been caught before their plan to escape could even really start sent ice cold shudders down all of their spines.

“How did you even k-”

“You thought I actually left?” Vapor cut Mei off with a tut, and suddenly the world started shaking violently for a few seconds before calming down. “I wouldn’t be dumb enough to turn my back on these two for a second, they may not be the best plotters but they’re not dumb. No no no, I knew they had a little something up their sleeve. That’s why I pretended to leave. Muuuuuuch easier to deal with one of them than both of them, less costly in supplies as well.”

“What did you do to my brother!?” Jin screeched, just barely managing to push himself to his feet with a snarl that dissipated instantly. “Wh-what... did you do to me?”

“You like it?” Vapor giggled this time, still high and haughty. “Why wear the face of Sun Wukong remotely when you can just be him instead? Much easier to keep track of you when you’re all in one place...” The sound of a crunch could be heard, ringing in all their ears as Jin’s face dropped in horror at the realization that it had been the calabash he was originally in. And no longer in. “As for your brother he is taking a much needed nap. He’s veeeery comfy I can assure you, very safe. Safer than you will be.”

“You let us out of here right now you damned fox!” Jin yelled, finding his anger just in time for a whooshing sound and smoke to start billowing from the sky and to surround them. “Aw shit, no! No, cover your mouths!”

The warning came far too let, the smoke seeping into their mouths and eyes before the trio could even attempt to cover them. They coughed and gagged on the sickly sweet and bitter taste on their tongues, eyes burning and tears failing to relieve them.

“F-fox?” Red Son coughed out, trying his best to remain standing and failing miserably as he joined the others in the ground in only a few seconds. “It’s n-not possible, you’re-!”

“Dead?” Vapor’s voice rang out again as a form glitched in front of them, a patchwork tapestry of people before eventually forming a whole person who’s face lit up as Red’s fell into one of horror and recognition. “Awww, you do know me! I was afraid your father had never kept any of my portraits.”

She stepped forward, tall and regal and draped in rich silken robes of old fashion. Hair half up with intricate pins and a jade comb, the tell tale giveaways of a fox spirit showing in her long tail and large ears.

Princess Jade Face knelt down, smile softening even though no kindness shown through it as she cupped Red Son’s face in her hands. “Oh my dear little kit, I am terribly sorry you had to meet your step-mother like this.”

----------

Thunder and lighting surrounded them, electricity and bangs that could shake the ground itself the backdrop to their battle. Princess Jade Face gritted her teeth, growling low in her throat. If she knew this is what would become of her after moving from being the demon Bull King’s concubine to his second wife she would have never taken the chance.

“This altitude ain’t the only thing I got over you!” That damned pig, Zhu Bajie, yelled from the rocky alcove above her with a wickedly proud smirk. He swung his rake, mythical energies emanating from it in a clear warning to stay away. She couldn’t afford to listen to that warning, not if she wanted to keep her position. She’d worked so hard to gain the bull’s favor and she wouldn’t just give it up now.

“Big words traveler, but can you back them up?” Jade Face snarled, allowing her fangs and claws to morph in. Damn this pig for forcing her to reveal herself. Damn that monkey for demanding the fan. Damn the monk, the fish, the dragon-horse! Damn them all!

“Oh I can back them up and than some, show me what you got!” With a yell the pig leapt off the rocks.

“Gladly, your journey ends here with me!” She leapt forward in turn, allowing her herself to fully become her fox-woman form. She grabbed the rake before it made contact with her skull, swinging it and it’s owner to the other side of the field.

“Knew you weren’t human but who’d guess?” The pig sneered, swinging the rake again to show off. “A fox spirit all along. Doesn’t matter what you are though, this rake will rend your soul regardless!”

Oh, rend her soul would it? Not without a fight! Jade Face dropped to all fours, running around Zhu Bajie and cartwheeling once behind him to catch him off guard and kick his legs out from under him.

She lengthened her claws, swinging down to gore at his throat before the blunt end of the rake slammed into her stomach and sent her flying with no air left in her lungs. Barely landing on her feet she just managed to catch the pig lunging at her with nine teeth aimed right at her face, falling back just in time to be missed. She rolled, kicking him in the stomach in retribution and grabbed one of his ears to bite at his neck.

That’s when she felt all nine of those barely missed teeth sink into her back.

She froze, jolting only when they were pulled out and the pig moved to let her fall face down into the dirt.

“Gotta admit,” she heard him say distantly, growing further and further away. He was leaving, no doubt to return to his master and companions. “You ain’t half bad. No match for me, but still not half bad. Maybe if I ever end up in the underworld we could have a rematch.”

Rematch. Rematch, that word spun around in her head as she laid in the dirt. Warm blood seeping from her wounds and painting her back in a deep red. A rematch.

‘He will get much more than a rematch some day,’ Jade Face thought to herself as she finally moved once she was sure he had left, crawling through the field to hide away and lick her wounds. ‘He’ll learn not to leave things unfinished.’

----------

Princess Jade Face leaned back in her chair, hands typing wildly at the keyboard in front of her as she turned the memory over in her head. She watched the chaos unfold on the screens before her, a smile forming on her lips as she finally turned away to empty her smoking pipe to fill it with another concoction of her own making.

Yes. Zhu Bajie would learn not to leave things unfinished.

Zhu Bajie would learn the hard way.

She was sorry for getting Red Son involved, but her husband... well. Not him.