#also y’all don’t understand how beautiful this mug is in person LORD

[retquits]

the wonderful folks from @fieldsofmistria sent over the cutest little guys ever (ㅠㅅㅠ)💛 thank you very much!!!

[starbuckie]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

challenge: the cbc 1k writing challenge by @captainscanadian​

prompt: “do you treat all your hookups like this?”

pairing: carter baizen x reader

words: 4.7k words

warnings: fluff, angst, assault, swearing, some degrading comments, and implications of the sexy times 

summary: waling up next to one of New York’s most eligible bachelors brings on a lot more than what you expected.

a/n: what’s up y’all! i’ve essentially been dead for the past two weeks, but i’m back! i lost motivation for a bit, but i feel a lot better now, and what better way to come back then a little carter baizen? i ended up writing a lot more than originally intended, but i like the way it turned out. anyways, enjoy, and thank you for all of your support<3 

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

As you awoke with a long stretch and yawn, memories of the previous night had you smiling like an idiot. Sunlight streamed from the half-closed blinds of your windows and the smell of coffee wafted to your room from the kitchen. You grabbed your lover’s dress shirt from off the floor and slipped a pair of satin slippers on your feet. 

The night before had been amazing. It had started with a beach reception when you had finally caught his eye. The two of you had been playing a game of cat and mouse during the whole wedding, only giving lustful stares and shy smiles, but when you finally had a hold of each other, your night only got better. The rest of the night had the sounds of only tearing clothes, pants, and moans. 

Snapping out of your sweet reverie, you stared at the man in your kitchen. His bare back was faced towards you, giving a great view of his shifting muscles while he made pancakes. A bowl of mixed berries were laid out on the table, along with strawberry syrup and mugs of Peruvian coffee. “Do you treat all of your hookups like this, Baizen?” 

Carter, finally noticing your presence, turned around and gave you a heartwarming smile. He flipped the last few pancakes over and walked over to wrap his arms around your waist. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he mumbled, “Haha, cute joke. After everything we’ve been through babygirl, this was definitely not a hookup. And I only treat my favorite person like this, so eat up.” He gestured towards the food on the table and with a quick kiss to your lips, turned his attention back to the pancakes.

You sat in one of the chairs and took a sip of steaming coffee and looked out of the ceiling to floor windows surrounding the room. The New York City skyline would never get old from this view, no matter how long you and Carter had had this penthouse. Sighing, you looked down at your left hand, the sun casting light on the diamond on your fourth finger. 

You had been engaged for only six months, but it didn’t feel like anything new. At the age of 33, you didn’t feel any different than you did ten years before or even ten before that. Hell, you always knew that you would be Carter’s friend, but one drunken night had changed that very quickly.

As your fiance joined you at the table, he set a plate of warm pancakes in front of you. Sure, he could have had your housekeeper, Marybeth do it for him, but he also liked pampering you himself. Together, you sat in silence and stared out the windows. Carter tore his eyes away from the city to study your face. He would never understand how after twenty years of friendship, it ended with him finding his one love and putting a ring on your finger. 

“Hey, baby?” He asked, and you hummed and met his gaze. “How’d we even get here?”

You smirked and replied with, “Well, I walked from the bedroom, but I don’t know about you?”

“Don’t be cheeky,” he said, pinching your elbow. You swatted his hand away and smiled. “Anyway, what I meant to say before I was so rudely interrupted, was how did I end up with the most beautiful girl on the Upper East Side?”

“Well, if I recall, it started with me being fed up with your stupid ass, and you finally confessing that you had been madly in love with me since we were thirteen.”

“And I still am.” He moved towards you to place his lips on yours. “You’re mine now, baby.” You grinned against his lips and went to sit on his lap.

“Mr. Baizen, you’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you. With that cute little schoolboy outfit, and your hair! Oh god, remember-”

With a playful glare, he cut you off as you giggled. “We do not need to talk about my middle school style, fiancee, but I will gladly talk about when I fell in love with you.”

“That sounds good.” You smiled at each other and went back down memory lane, into your long, long, shared history.

20 YEARS EARLIER

Looking in the mirror, your maid had finished tailoring your school uniform. When she deemed you presentable she scurried out of the room to help your mother, and you immediately went to call your best friend.

“Carter, are you ready for our first day? We’re finally in eighth grade. Next year I’ll be headed off to Constance and you’ll be going to St. Judes, and there’s gonna be a whole ton of hot guys-”

Your friend’s chuckles were heard through the phone. “Y/N, we haven’t even begun the first day yet.”

“Yes, I know, but we’ll be one step closer to the best years of our lives!” Your mom’s voice called you from downstairs. Oh crap. Only the Lord knew that Andrea L/N did NOT want to be kept waiting. “Okay, my mom’s coming, but we’re coming to pick you up right now. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“See ya soon, Y/N.” You smiled at his voice and responded.

“See ya soon, Baizen.” You hung up the phone and ran to your vanity. Making sure your mascara wasn’t smudged while you had dressed, you spritzed on the Chanel perfume you had stolen from your mother's room. Truth be told, you only dressed up for Carter, but you would never tell him that. 

His parents were two of New York’s socialites, famous and wealthy, so they got along well with your parents. Though your dad didn’t pay too much attention to you, your mother made sure you kept up with your grades and social life. She was always the shoulder to cry on, offering you wisdom and advice. Not to mention, but your mom was a fantastic shoe designer. She was truly the greatest woman you knew. The two of you grew up closely with his sister Caroline, from the time you were babies to now. Caroline had gone to a boarding school in France in the fifth grade, but that didn't tear your friendship, and only made it stronger. However, while you stay poised and polite, Carter had always had a bit of a bad boy streak. Albeit, he was charming and sweet, sometimes too much for his own good, but the two of you were opposites. Yin and yang. Sun and moon. At the age of thirteen he was the Upper East Side’s darling sweet-talker, who had girls and boys alike fawning over him. 

Including you.

You never realized when you had started developing feelings for your friend, but it was a huge shock to you. It helped that he was cute as hell, but you got to see the sweet side of him, that was respectful and caring. He always made sure you were comfortable and happy, giving you a small sliver of hope that he liked you back. You always helped him, whether it was being a wingwoman, or giving him schoolwork, you were always there at his beck and call. 

The next seven years were absolutely painful for you, however. In high school, he charmed the skirt off of every single girl at Constance, and constantly blew you off for hookups and dates. When he was cut off and went to travel the world, you called him to make sure he was okay, though he always seemed fine to you. You stuck with him through everything, and the more you went on, you barely knew the man who claimed to be your best friend. 

Dating Serena was the last straw. You were twenty-one, studying political science and business to hopefully one day become a lawyer. Your father had disapproved of your majors, but your mom fully supported you. 

Sighing and putting your textbook away, you stood up and went to put something on for the party you were invited to. Normally, you would have stayed in your NYU dorm, but Carter had miraculously managed to get you to leave, claiming you needed to meet his girlfriend, who you didn’t know at the time. You grumpily slipped on a champagne sequin dress, and grabbed your white stilettos to match. After hailing a cab, you were off to Blair Waldorf’s house, unknowingly driving to the end of you and Carter’s friendship.

You had to admit that the party wasn’t half bad. Blair certainly knew how to decorate, and it wasn’t hard to believe, considering her mother was the infamous designer, Eleanor Waldorf. You bumped into a lot of old classmates from your high school years, and grudgingly exchanged greetings. When you finally found Carter, he had his arm slipped around the waist of a pretty blonde, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. He turned around, and let out a smile that normally would have made you happy, but instead filled you with dread. 

“Y/N! You made it! This is Serena Van der Woodsen.” As you went in to hug your friend, you were stopped by none other than Serena's hand stuck out for you to shake. 

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you.” You stared into her blue eyes, and were immediately filled with envy and irritation.

You had no right to be mad. You knew Carter could date whoever he wanted, but at this point you didn’t care. Exhausted, you started to yell at the couple.

“Really, Carter? You go off to travel some other goddamn countries and come back to date a high schooler? A child? Who the hell do you think you are?” The entire room went silent, all of their attention focused solely on the college girl who went crazy. Serena stared at you, absolutely dumbfounded. As she came to her senses and started to yell back, Carter stopped her.

“Y/N, let’s go outside,” he gritted out. His eyes were burning red, and you could tell he was furious, which was never a good thing.

However, at this point your emotions were so heightened that it rivaled his anger. Once the two of you were outside the building, he started lecturing you. “What the fuck was that, L/N? I introduce you to my girlfriend, and you start yelling at her. You have no control over who I date, and you have absolutely zero right to insult them. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He knew he had hit a sore spot there. He knew your deepest insecurities, how you were self-conscious about your body, and how you were saving yourself for the one. No one had ever looked at you throughout high school, and even if they had, you would’ve been too blinded by Carter to see any of them. He had always had you wrapped around his finger.

You chuckled mirthlessly. “You are such an asshole, Baizen. I have been there for you for years. I was always there to make sure you had done your homework, I looked after you, I fucking lied for you. I have done everything for you, and for fucking what?”

“So you yell at my girlfriend? I never knew you could stoop so fucking low, Y/N.” He glared at you, on the verge of tears, and saw that your face was already wet as well. “Oh, poor you. Cries whenever someone raises their voice at them. You had no right to say those things about her. What are you, jealous?”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. It was the longest five seconds of your life, as tears ran down your face in hot paths, and he stared at you, for once, not knowing what to say. 

“You are.” His gaze turned sympathetic. “Wait, Y/N, I never knew-”

“It doesn’t matter, Carter,” you yelled, “I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m not gonna go on loving you, because it’s never gonna happen and I can’t sit around to wait for you. I’m done.” With that, you left, his last memory of you stomping off into the streets of Manhattan at midnight. 

PRESENT

“That wasn’t my best moment exactly.” You cringed, face flaming from your actions that had taken place that night.

Carter placed his hand on your jaw and rubbed your cheekbone. “It wasn’t your fault, I was kind of an idiot. But in a way, I’m kind of grateful, because that really woke me up to what was happening outside of that little bubble I was in. It made me see what I had lost, and remember that it was you who finally saved me from the hole I was digging myself farther into. You were my hero. Still are.”

You grinned bashfully. “But then we ended up seeing each other two years later at that other party.”

“Oh god, the party,” he smirked, “we had some fun then, didn’t we?”

“I can’t remember, we were both drunk as fuck.” 

10 YEARS AGO

The last two years had changed you. You had still focused on school and kept up with your studies, but the old Y/N was no more. Carter Baizen had ruined your life, and now you were just getting a taste of what you had missed out on in high school. A barrier surrounded your heart, with the one rule of no man staying in your bed for more than a night. You had a reputation to uphold, of course. Every social event now had your name on the attending list, and guys were lining up at your feet for a night with you. Your hair was longer, the clothes you wore out flashier and your style rivaled that of Serena Van der Woodsen’s. You were unattainable and everyone knew your name.

Your father’s private jet flew in on the evening of December twentieth. Merula, your family’s maid, helped carry your bags from the jet and your mom greeted you with tons of hugs and kisses. However, that didn’t last very long, as you had a party to attend. Going up to your old room, you took a quick, yet luxurious bath, and went to fix yourself up. Your old closet was still intact, and you were happy to know that the short red dress you had bought five years before still fit you. After you slipped on the dress and your black heels, you curled your hair in loose waves, and swiped on some dark red lipstick.

You were dead set on getting laid tonight. But then again, when weren’t you?

With a goodnight call to your mom, you ran out to the limo waiting outside your family’s penthouse. Giving the driver the address, you pulled your compact mirror from your Valentino clutch. Flawless. Like any other night. Paying attention to your looks was now tiring. And this life was lonely. You hadn’t had any friends besides Carter at the beginning, but now you were truly by yourself.

Carter. You hadn’t thought about him in a long time. In your furious haze after the incident two years ago, you blocked him on all forms of social media, and ignored any headlines from Gossip Girl including his name. It was lonely, naturally, but you had enough men filling your bed to avoid you from the empty void in your chest. The void that was filled with whispers telling you to apologize, to call him, to take him back, because the truth was that you missed him like hell.

The party was full of college kids, neatly dressed in the chandelier-lit room. Ugh. So far you couldn’t see any lookers. A couple of guys who looked like they were in their late twenties were eyeing you up from the corner, and grabbing a flute of bubbly champagne, you headed in their direction, licking your lips. As you crossed the room, you could feel more eyes on you but you didn’t dare look at them. No, you liked being in charge, controlling the room. Heels clicking against the marble floor, you blatantly checked out the tall blonde in the middle. He was pretty handsome. Cropped hair, a muscular frame, and electric blue eyes that kind of reminded you of Carter. 

Stop thinking about him, go get laid.

You stopped in front of him. “Hey, pretty boy. Can I get your name?” 

He wasn’t even fazed by your flagrant introduction. You were absolutely shameless, and though you received glares from the other women in the room, you couldn’t have cared less. “I’m Steve. What’s your name, beautiful?”

You opened your mouth to speak and Steve’s eyes widened as he saw the figure that shouted out your name, abruptly stopping you. “Y/N?”

Freezing, you prayed that it wasn’t him. His voice that haunted you daily, and made guilt and sadness pool in your gut. It had to have been your imagination. You started again. “Sorry, but I’m-”

“Y/N.” Turning around, you came face to face, well, face to chest with Carter Baizen. He had grown taller since you had last seen him. Even with the noticeably darker bags under his eyes and growing hair, he was still as gorgeous as ever. 

“Hey, Carter.” Steve had walked away by then, not wanting to intrude, but at that moment, he was the only person you needed. Heart beating in your chest, you finally met Carter’s eyes. “How are you?”

His mouth was gaping a little, taking in your form, seeing that it was so much different than it used to be. “I’m good.” Pausing for a moment, he added, “You look great.”

A blush rose to your cheeks and you managed to mumble out, “Thanks.”

“Can we talk?” 

That’s how you ended up outside on an empty balcony overlooking Manhattan. Taxis and honking were heard, but it was fainter due to blood rushing in your ears. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “Carter, before you say anything, I want to let you know that I’m sorry. I really am. Last time we saw each other, I knew what I did was wrong, and though I was in love with you, I had no right to be upset.” Sighing, you placed your hand in his. “Can we be good again? I really hate how we left things off.”

Silently, he nodded his head, eyes wide and subtly taking you in again. The last two years hadn’t been kind to him, after Serena dumped his sorry ass, and he ended up with no money and nowhere to run to. His mom had allowed him to stay in the family house for a while, and his father was even giving him a second chance at running the company, but it wasn’t easy for him. He was slowly spiraling down, and only when he saw you did he wake up and take a look at himself properly. He looked like a piece of garbage next to you. He hadn’t even gone to school, and here you were, even more beautiful, which he never thought was possible, and a successful law student at Harvard.

“We’re good, Y/N. I brought you out here for another reason though.” He paused and looked at you as you nodded for him to continue. “It’s been a few years, I know, and I shouldn’t be saying this now, but I miss you so much. These past few years have made me realize how much of a fool I am for you, but God, I’m in love with you, Y/N, I always have been.”

You stood up, anger coursing through your veins. Now? When it’s most convenient for him? No. You needed to get drunk. “I’m sorry Carter, but I fell out of love with you one hell of a long time ago.” Swallowing the lump rising in your throat, you continued your lie. “You made your decision, I made mine. I wanted to be friends, Carter, but I can’t have that laying around us.”

Stomping away, you heard the crestfallen voice of Carter. “Y/N, wait, please.” He stumbled his way over to you, and caught your hand again before you ripped it away. “Please, Y/N, please, I’m in love with you. I’m sorry I was such an ass, I was so stupid, please.”

Tears fell from your eyes as you shook your head. “I need a drink.” 

He numbly nodded as you made your way back inside, asking one of the servers for a gin. You needed to get drunk. It was a necessity at this point, and as you got more and more tipsy through the night, you found your way back with Steve. By now the party had started to get crazier, people making out in corners and drunkenly stumbling everywhere. Steve held you up as you grinded against him, but stopped when you felt his hand go up your dress. 

“No, no thank you,” you slurred.

He smirked, giving you a steely glare. “You’re asking for it with this slutty little dress and winding me up.” He forcibly grabbed your wrists and started to drag you to a bedroom. “I own you tonight, baby.”

Before you could scream, someone came over and punched Steve in the jaw. You were speechless, staring at his already bruising face. Once again, you were being pulled away, only this time, out of the party. The person dragged you back to your place, and your drunken mind asked, “You wanna come in?” 

Without another word, the two of you were attached by the mouth, clothes being thrown haphazardly around your room. Earlier events from the evening wiped from your memories, and you could have only hoped that your parents weren’t home. Falling into your bed, you and your unknown lover tore up the bedsheets for several hours until you both drunkenly passed out.

When you woke up the next morning, you looked up. You silently thanked yourself for closing your windows before you had left the other night, and only then realized you were cold, naked, and in your own room. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself. Throwing on a robe from your closet, you looked around seeing the scattered clothes from you and whoever you had spent your night with. They were still here.

You flew down the stairs at a record-breaking speed, and slid into the kitchen, risky business style, and saw a familiar head of brown hair sitting at the table. “What the fuck, Baizen?”

Carter calmly turned around, smiling as he blew into his coffee. “Damn, Y/N, good morning to you too.”

Scoffing, you grabbed the newspaper he held in his hands and started to whack him with it. “Ow, what the hell?” He grabbed your wrists to calm you, then pulled out a chair next to him for you to sit. Reluctantly, you sat and frowned at him, raising an eyebrow to ask what happened. “Do you treat all your hookups like this?”

“Did we…” You didn’t even want to finish that sentence.

“Sleep together piss-drunk after you told me you didn’t love me back after two years? Yes, we most certainly did, beautiful.” Though your face burned red at the old pet name, you asked for what had happened. “Well, the asshole you were dancing with tried to get you in bed, but I came over and punched him, while we were both still drunk, and I got you back here, and you offered me to come inside and we fucked.”

Your eyes were comically wide, and he would have found the situation really funny if his heart weren’t beating erratically inside his chest as he awaited your full reaction. “So,” you started, “you're still in love with me.”

He tried not to let his embarrassment show, but his cheeks flamed anyway. You smiled genuinely, but you were terrified of whether he meant it or not. “Do you mean it, Carter?”

You stared into the depths of his eyes and he answered, “Yes. I’m so sorry that I was a horrible, horrible friend to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. And I know you already expressed how you felt about me, and let me say, I understand completely. If you want me to, I’ll walk out of that door right now, and you won’t have to see me again. But if you let me stay , I’ll spend every waking moment of my life making sure you feel happy and loved, and making it up to you.”

He stared at you with pleading eyes, and held your hands gently. Suddenly, stinging tears obstructed your vision, and you whimpered. “I love you, Car,” you gave him a watery smile, “never stopped.”

His eyes started to tear up as well, and smiling you finally pressed your lips to his, taking in the moment. The past few years had been torturous for you both, dealing with the loneliness and pain from your broken friendship, but slowly and surely you two built trust. It took a long time, and you took the relationship slowly, but patience was key, and it was all worth it in the end.

PRESENT

“And now we’re here?” You asked. Carter combed his hand through your hair, the soothing action making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“And now we’re here.” He glanced down at you, smiling and pecking your lips.

“Damn, we had one dramatic-ass story.” He chuckled at that and sighed.

“We sure did, baby. But hey, look at us. We’re on top of the world right now. We have a wedding in a few months, you don’t have any cases, and I have the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms right now.”

You smiled against his neck. “Hey, Car?” He hummed against your hair, looking out the window. The sun had fully risen, making the room glow. “I know we haven’t had this discussion in a while, but are we ready to have kids?” His brow furrowed, but he said nothing. “Car?”

“I mean, sure, we’re both doing so well right now, and we could raise a kid here, right? We’ve got an empty bedroom right across from ours, and we’ve got plenty of space here. I think with the combination of me and you, we’d have a pretty great kid. They’d definitely have my eyes though.” 

“They better have your eyes.” You looked up at him. “So pretty.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “The wedding’s coming up pretty soon though, so we can start trying after that.” You laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Before we get too old.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes. “We’re thirty-three, Carter, we aren’t that old.”

He laughed and said, “I guess you’re right.” Heart beating in your chest, you sighed loudly. “What brought this on?”

You cupped his cheek and took a deep breath. When you had taken the test a week before you had been elated, only to freak out after realizing Carter might not feel the same. But you had been okay for ten years, right? When the two of you had finally gotten together, it did take a lot to find that balance in your relationship, but hell, you were getting married in a few months. Carter was your best friend, number one supporter, and fiance, so you prayed that he would be just as excited. 

“Carter, I’m pregnant.” Looking at him dead in the eye, you hoped that he would be happy. You awaited his reaction for a few seconds, and you wanted to scream in anticipation.

And then you saw it. 

His eyes started to water, and his hands moved to your stomach. ”Really?” He asked, voice wavering. You nodded, eyes beginning to tear up as well.

“We’re having a baby, Mr. Baizen.” You laughed joyfully, as he picked you up by your waist and you wrapped your legs around him. Hands found their way around his neck as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

Tears poured from his eyes, as he laughed. “I love you so, so, much, baby.” Hiding your face in his neck, you giggled some more. “God, we’re having a kid. I swear on my life, I’ll do everything to make sure you and this baby are happy for the rest of our lives.”

And he did. Not such a bad hookup after all, now was it?

[rt8815]

Bradbury...and Boogie-Woogie

Two years I’ve agonized over this piece. Two. Years. It’s kinda the reason I started writing this story out of order. Anyway, it’s one of those ‘filler’ chapters, I think they’re called. Not a CM Bingo piece, though I’m working on more of those atm.

Triggers: None, I think.

WC: 2,840

Before diving in, first read Let It Bleed, as it immediately precedes this one.

Bradbury…October 27, 2017

“Hey, New Girl! Welcome-welcome!” Garcia squealed happily, rolling a cart onto the sidewalk.

“Hi, Penelope. It’s great to meet you in person,” replied McKinley, lifting plastic containers off the concrete and placing them on the cart.

“You too, Kinley. Oh my gosh, you’re even cuter in the flesh. Love. Your. Hair.”

“Uh, th-thanks,” she stuttered, unsure how to take the compliment or politely ask the bubbly techie not to play with her amethyst locks. Then Garcia moved in for a hug. McKinley stepped back. “No, sorry. I’m kind of weird about hugs.”

“No need to apologize,” she insisted, pushing the dessert-laden cart through the door. Remembering their lively video chat from the other night, McKinley deduced that verbally and physically affectionate was Penelope’s natural state.

McKinley handed her ID to a grumpy man behind the front desk. “If we get to be friends, I’ll warm up to you,” she told Penelope, throwing her visitor’s badge around her neck.

Penelope’s eyes glinted mischievously. “We’ll definitely become friends. I’ve already decided. You’re a smol bean and you’re my baby now, no arguments,” she concluded as entered the elevator.

McKinley giggled. They chatted while the elevator climbed.

“So, you’ve got the hots for our Boy Genius,” Penelope mused aloud.

“What? No! No, it’s not like that.”

“Oh really, now? Doughnuts, cupcakes, a cake, and Season 10 of Doctor Who on Blu-ray, all to apologize because you accidentally grabbed a handful?”

McKinley’s face burned. “Did Agent Alvez tell you that? Son of a bitch!” she fumed, helping Penelope maneuver the cart into the hall.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she reassured her. “These things happen.” Her lips pulled into an inquisitive smirk. “Okay, tell me - what’s he packing? We talkin’ Small Flat Rate Box, or Freight?”

McKinley’s eyes bugged behind her sunglasses. “Sweet Lord, why would you wanna know that?”

Penelope shrugged. “Reid’s always so buttoned up; however, I suspect he’s smuggling something impressive under those corduroys.”

“Yeah well, I’m not comfortable discussing that, so keep suspecting.” They rolled through the glass doors of the bullpen. “And to answer your original question: I don’t have the hots for him,” she stated simply as they came to a stop at Spencer’s desk, “and I’m not looking to date.”

“You guys are perfect for each other, though!” Penelope insisted. “You’re a lot alike. You’re both kind, nerd-funny, super smart, reserved…”

“Ha! Remember that last one when you’ve seen me drunk,” McKinley cautioned, opening the containers to check the decorations.

“Hey, it’s Twist ‘n’ Shout!”

She spun, hands on her hips, electricity crackling in her hair. Luke’s grin slipped at the death glare on her face, his coffee mug hovering midway to its destination. After a pregnant pause, McKinley responded.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one…Mocha Latte. Just know that I bite when I have to.” He raised his coffee-free hand in surrender, inching forward to inspect the desserts.

“Get away, you!” Penelope warned. “These are Spencer’s.”

Luke broke into a lopsided smile. “Oh, because of the ‘short and curlies incident’?”

McKinley thumped his arm with a stack of paper plates.

“Ouch,” he chuckled, no hint of pain in his voice.

“That was for telling people about the…awkwardness. Also, yes, it’s part apology, part ‘let’s be friends.’”

Luke raised a brow. “Friends? You got a free preview of the goods and you’re looking to be just friends?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes! He’s a lovely person and…I dunno. When we talked, my heart went all squishy and I knew my life would be greatly lacking without him as my friend.”

­“Okay, just remember that opportunity gropes but once, Doc.”

“Alvez, why are you casually discussing sexual misconduct in the middle of the office?” McKinley turned to see a tall brunette woman approaching. She appeared formidable but caring.

“Ah, it’s Dr. Durand! That clears things up,” she laughed, extending a hand to McKinley. “I’m Emily Prentiss, welcome to the BAU.”

McKinley offered a small, awkward wave in return. Emily smiled knowingly.

“How beautiful!” she exclaimed, eyeing the sweet treats. “The attention to detail is remarkable!”

McKinley smiled bashfully. “Thank you so mu- wait, how did you know who I am?”

Emily tore her eyes from the cake. “Well, Penny mentioned your video chat, and Luke jumped in and told us about your encounter with Spencer,” she winked, making a fondling motion with her hand. McKinley’s face flushed yet again.

“Penny spilled about your plan to surprise Spencer, and we got curious. I had her run a background check on you.”

McKinley inhaled sharply, feeling exposed.

“Em!” Penelope squeaked in disapproval. “It’s not like that, love, it’s just- ”

“Spence is like a younger brother to us,” interjected another blonde. “We’re very protective of him. He’s been through a lot, so whenever somebody new enters his life, we’re concerned about their intentions. Jennifer Jareau, by the way. Call me JJ,” she said, not forcing a handshake.

“I understand,” McKinley sighed. “Spencer has that effect on people, doesn’t he?”

She hugged the plates to her chest. “One conversation with him and you realize, ‘He’s a precious cinnamon roll and must be protected at all costs!��� I assure you, that’s my only intention, JJ: to be his friend.”

“Well, that’s certainly a good start,” an older gentleman joined the conversation, pointing at one of the containers. “Chocolate frosted doughnuts with sprinkles are his favorite. It’s a bit clichéd, but there’s truth in the adage ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ It follows; you’ve already had him by the b-”

“Rossi, stop! We’ve made enough jokes at her expense,” scolded a woman who introduced herself as Dr. Tara Lewis. “This looks exquisite. Do I smell coffee in the cake? Reid loves coffee.”

“Yes, and there’s plenty to share as soon as he’s had some. Where is he, anyway?”

Luke pointed outside the Bullpen. “He’s down the hall printing handouts for his seminar next month,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“He doesn’t email them?”

“Reid’s a bit of a technophobe,” explained yet another agent, Matt Simmons.

“He still insists on hard copies of case files,” added Penelope. “It broke his heart when we went totally digital.” She glanced over McKinley’s shoulder and grinned. “Speak of the Luddite devil.”

Everyone watched as Spencer staggered towards them, clutching a thick stack of papers. He stopped short when he saw the crowd milling around his desk.

Spencer smiled, confused. “McKinley? What are you doing here?”

“She comes bearing gifts, Big Brain,” Penelope winked. “Apology gifts.” The others avoided his gaze but couldn’t hide their sniggers. Then Spencer caught Luke’s eye.

“You told!” he grumbled, flinging the papers onto his desk.

“If I give y’all food, will you shut your traps about us touching each other’s fun places?”

“No.”

“Probably not.”

“Nope. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Heh, you’re new here, bean. You’ll learn.”

While they lined up to choose their treats, McKinley leaned closer to Spencer. “When does the hazing end?”

“They’ll get bored soon, but that’s when the pranking starts.” He bent forward to focus on the cake properly. “Ray Bradbury?”

“Yeah, Garcia said Halloween’s your favorite holiday, and I know you’re a voracious reader. I put two and two together and ta-da.”

“Let’s see…the lions are from “The Veldt,” and the flowers are from Dandelion Wine, but what’s this one?” he asked, pointing to a swing set and a sandbox.

“The Playground,” she replied, and they smiled at each other self-consciously.

“McKinley, did you make all of this by hand?” asked JJ, marveling at the miniature sculptures.

“Most of it, except my friend Taylor painted the lions, and the chocolate TARDISes on the cupcakes came from a mold.” She popped open another container, revealing police boxes, each wrapped with a Fourth Doctor’s scarf and set in galaxy frosting. “Oh, and I bought the Jelly Babies online.”

“Would you consider making birthday cakes? My boys would love these.”

“Sure thing,” McKinley agreed, sitting in the chair Spencer brought her.

“Sooo, Reid, what are you gonna do for Kinley?” Garcia interjected.

“She’s right, Spence,” JJ concurred, sneaking an extra cupcake. “You’re not innocent in all this.”

Behind her, Luke held two doughnuts, squeezing them suggestively and mouthing ‘honka-honka.’

McKinley scowled at him. “What’re you, twelve?” Turning to Spencer, she continued. “I’d choose a book or record shop, but you don’t owe me a thing.”

“Oh-oh-oh,” Garcia enthused. “Then after, you could watch Who together at your place. He doesn’t have a TV,” she whisper-yelled.

Shaking her head, McKinley checked her phone. “Sorry, time for me to go.”

“Nooo,” Garcia pouted. “Hang with us!”

“Tempting, but I have to meet friends at some bar named…O’Keeffe’s?”

McKinley swore Garcia’s squeal of delight broke the sound barrier.

“That’s where we’re going! We’re all gonna get smashed on pumpkin-y, fall-themed grownup drinks together! Yes!”

…And Boogie-Woogie

The team kept an eye out for McKinley at O’Keeffe’s and were surprised to hear her shout out to them from the stage. She introduced the team to her bandmates following their final set, which consisted mostly of Tom Petty songs as a memorial of sorts, though McKinley couldn’t resist adding The Rolling Stones’ “Fingerprint File” at the end.

They talked late into the night getting to know each other. McKinley sat transfixed as the team regaled her with stories about their cases, one of which revolved around what they called a Vengeful Cinderella.

“Really? With her stilettos? Yikes!” she grimaced, sipping her drink.

“Yeah, but Spence was able to bring her in quietly by playing into her fantasy, acting as Prince Charming to her Cinderella. Got down on one knee, slipped her shoe back on and everything.”

McKinley threw Spencer an appraising look.

“I can see that working. He fits the bill.”

“He also gave me a new appreciation for the original, unsanitized versions of fairy tales. See, I felt that children ought to be protected from harsh realities, but Spence explained that the tales’ intended purpose was to allow kids to safely confront their fears.”

McKinley cocked her head in thought.

“Actually, the intent of those particular versions was to punish women - through some combination of marriage, rape, bodily mutilation and or death - simply for being women, because the Brothers Grimm were a pair of angry, bitter, he-man woman-hatin’, misogynist prick bastards.”

She took a drink and drew a breath before continuing, waving her hand for emphasis.

“Meanwhile, historian Franz Xaver von Schönwerth traveled around Bavaria, transcribing the stories directly from the very people who’d kept them alive in the oral tradition: servants, peasants, laborers - many of them women - rather than reframing them within his own worldview.”

She breathed in again, oblivious to the team’s stares.

“These fairy tales had strong, independent female protagonists in leadership positions. They were the ones having adventures, slaying dragons and rescuing men! Yes, the stories’ purpose was to help children navigate life’s challenges and prepare them for the adult world,” McKinley clarified, “but not at the expense of women’s agency and autonomy.”

Her gaze shifted to Spencer, whose mouth had dropped slightly.

“Unfortunately, Grimms’ Fairy Tales garnered all the attention. Fast-forward and now we have watered down, artificially flavored, saccharine animated films teaching kids that girls are helpless and need saving, and that the boys who rescue the girls are entitled to them. It’s just one more way the film industry has contributed to toxic masculinity and rape culture. Thanks, Disney, I hate it,” she concluded.

McKinley returned to her drink for a few moments before realizing the booth had fallen silent.

“Oh boy, there are two of them now,” Emily snorted.

McKinley scrunched her face in confusion. “Two what?”

“Spence rambles too,” said JJ, in a tone that conveyed mild annoyance and embarrassment at the behavior, almost as though she were apologizing for him.

McKinley frowned at her. She had seemed nice enough in the Bullpen earlier.

“He’s gotten better about it over the years, though,” she added, patting his shoulder.

The misplaced pride grated on McKinley’s nerves.

“Asphinctersayswhat?” She deliberately slurred her words, downing the last of her drink.

“What?” asked JJ.

“Exactly,” McKinley murmured, eyes fixed on her glass.

Before JJ could ask again, Spencer spoke.

“How had I not heard of Schönwerth before?” he wondered aloud, sounding disappointed in himself.

McKinley perked up. “I can lend you my copy of The Turnip Princess if you’d like. It’s a collection of his work.”

“Yeah, definitely!” he said eagerly. “I’m always excited to learn something new.”

Luke leaned around Matt to join the exchange. “I’ll have to buy a copy myself. I read Grimm’s as a kid but I hate to think I only knew biased versions. Schönwerth’s sound much better.”

…

“I appreciate the ride home, Luke,” McKinley called from the backseat.

“Me too. Just don’t get used to hearing those words pass my gorgeous lips, Newbie.”

“No problem, happy to do it,” he answered, laughing at Garcia’s drunken antics.

Under the cranked-up radio, McKinley addressed Spencer.

“Thanks for your text that morning after the park. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you for insisting on the wellness check.” He paused, fiddling with his messenger bag and smiling thoughtfully. “You know what? I’m glad we met.” 

“Hey, is this the right place?” asked Luke.

McKinley peered through the window.

“6565, yeah that’s the one,” she confirmed as Luke parked.

Penelope waddled across the driveway.

“I have to see your tiny house - the outside I mean, since I already got a video tour of the inside. Guys, it. is. Adorable,” Penelope gushed.

“I thought you lived with Taylor and Jaimie,” said Spencer, pointing to the porch.

“I’m parked out back,” McKinley explained, unlocking the gate.

Penelope gasped. “I almost forgot! Can we see your baby too?”

“Absolutely! He loves meeting new people.”

Luke closed the gate behind them, carrying McKinley’s guitar. “Wait, what? You have a son?”

“Weeell, sort of…” McKinley twirled around, landing on her knees, arms spread out.

“Boogie, baby! Come to Mamma!” she bellowed.

A multicolored mass of fur burst through the door and made a blurry beeline for her, knocking her fully onto the ground.

“I missed you too, buddy!” she cried as the dog assaulted her face with kisses. Sitting up, McKinley faced him towards the group.

“Look! I brought new friends. Boogie, this is Luke, Penny, and Spencer. Guys, this is Boogie.”

“Boogie?”

“Yes, Mocha Latte, Boogie. Short for Boogie-Woogie, which comes from the Bantu phrase ‘mbuki-mvuki.’ It means ‘to dance wildly, to the point of ecstasy.’ I didn’t have a name picked out when I brought him home, but when I put my music on shuffle, the first song was John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillen’.” He started shaking his butt and tapping his feet. No other name would’ve sufficed.”

He approached Luke, slowly at first, then promptly shoved his snout into the man’s crotch.

“Boogie! Manners! I raised you better than that.”

“That’s okay, I know it’s the dog version of shaking hands.” Luke knelt to give him more attention. “You’re just introducing yourself, aren’t you? Yeah. You probably smell Roxie, huh buddy.”

“You have a furbaby too?”

“Yeah, a Belgian Malinois. What’s Boogie?”

“A Border Aussie. Mom was a working Border Collie and Dad was a show Australian Shepherd. He got Mommy’s smarts and Daddy’s derpiness.”

Penelope bent over to scratch Boogie’s ears, surrendering herself to sniffs and kisses. “If you two don’t have playdates at the park, I’ll dognap them and take them there myself.”

Boogie seemed to wag his assent, shuffling over to Spencer and nosing his hand.

“N-nice doggie,” he stammered, gingerly patting Boogie’s head.

McKinley stood, swaying slightly on her way to the door. “I better grab that book while I’m thinking about it. Keep our guests entertained, buddy.”

They heard her rummaging inside, talking to herself. “You were here just the other - aha!”

She reappeared, waving a tattered paperback. “It’s dog-eared and coffee-stained,” she sighed apologetically, “but it’ll read.”

“Well-worn is high praise for a book. It shows how much it’s been loved,” Spencer reasoned, climbing the stairs to the small porch. 

“Take your time with it. Some things aren’t meant for speed-Reiding,” she joked, handing him the book.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a minute.

“The swing set on the cake is an inedible figurine, by the way. That night, sitting on the real swing…I dunno, it seemed to comfort you. Now you have one to keep on your desk.”

McKinley couldn’t decide if ‘impressed’ or ‘perturbed’ better described Spencer’s expression in that moment.

“It’s late, guys. We should head out,” Luke yawned, handing McKinley her guitar.

“Night-night, Lovely! We’re having that knitting bee at my place next weekend, just us.”

“Sounds great, Penny, but I’m nervous about knitting in the round. It’s intimidating.”

They waved their goodbyes as they returned to the gate. “Don’t worry, Auntie Penelope will teach you all she knows.”

McKinley retreated into the warmth of her home. She climbed into bed, beaming to herself.

“A whole new group of friends. Imagine that, Boogie! I’d only dared hope for one…”

—

“There are no faster or firmer friendships than those between people who love the same books.”Irving Stone

@illegalcerebral @dreatine @cynbx

Others let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

[leavaloo]

Original Works: Daki Character Study

While I’m done with requests for the night, I wanted to post some original stuff. This time, this short story is featuring two of the characters from my Beast Trial series that I’m working on. I hope you all enjoy! Please let me know what you think, especially since this is me getting more accustomed to my characters!

Hope y’all enjoy~

    Quiet mutterings echoed through the dinner where Daki sat. He frowned into his mug of ale, acting like he was deep in thought, when really, he was simply listening. It was a new technique he was trying, and one that was also fairly dangerous to the soul. Should he get caught, it would at the very least get him kicked out of this specific dinner. At the worst, possibly killed. Luckily, Rien was with him, who quietly wrote across the table from him.

    Yeah, he was doing school work, but he was also playing a very important role in all of this. He let Daki know if there was any suspicious looks their way by tapping his foot slightly. All in all, Daki didn’t like Rien, at least to begin with. Now, for the most part, he respected the work ethic he brought to their schemes. And of course, they always had the excuse that they were simply training for their celestials.

    Daki’s head thumped against the table, sending a wave of ash gray hair over Rien’s schoolwork. Rien raised an eyebrow at his roommate, brushing some of his deep black hair out of his black and white eyes. Daki always found that interesting. Rien’s eyes, especifically. Most souls had their eyes stay a similar color to their hair, even if a black soul retained a seemingly pupiless eye. It was the opposite for him. It was like he was monochrome right from the very start. White outsides, black iris, white pupil. Part of Daki wondered if he was colorblind.

    “What’s on your mind?” the black soul asked, resting his head in one of his hands, brow furrowed.

    “…I want you to be honest with me, Rien.”

    The silence begged him to go on.

    “What do you think about being chosen by Celestials to become divined champions?”

    Rien almost thumped his head down with Daki, with how heavy his sigh was. It raised a chuckle from the other male’s body. He set down his quill, taking a deep drink of his own ale while looking off at the people passing by. Daki also looked out, both of them collecting their thoughts before this obviously intense conversation began.

    Keirak was, of course, the capital of Azen. And honestly, this place was so much different than the snowy wastes where he came from. His body shivered instinctually, and he decided to push those bad thoughts out of his head. He watched as horses passed by on the elevated platforms, carrying carts willed with people or goods. The diner they were eating at specifically was, like many shops and stopping points in this canyon, carved into the red rock. He could hear the call of merchants from the square down below them, the jingling of many wares being transported, and the talk of those who rushed about from place to place. Yeah, a lot different from home.

    “I’m confused,” Rien finally spoke, bringing Daki’s attention back to the table. His head leaned on his arms, one of his hands playing with the long, gray rat tail that he had. His dark gray eyes scanned Rien’s body for any available clues of deceit, but even Daki had to admit, whether Rien was meaning to or not, the guy was hard to read.

    “Confused how?” Daki pressed.

    “Back in my village, I was known for being the black soul who couldn’t do any magic. I was good with weapons, not magic. Kids would run up to me and ask for a magic trick, and I’d never have anything to give them. So, out of all the other possible black souls out there, even with people like me being sparse, why me? I guess I don’t feel deserving of this title.”

    Daki was kind of taken aback. This entire time that he had been rooming with Rien at the academy, he had seen him as the type that got everything he wanted. It was one of the reasons he hated Rien from the start. Shaded souls like Rien always had the most amount of magic compared to any other shade or color. Daki solemnly looked at his hands for a second, wondering if the small amount of magical prowess that he had was more than Rien had even mustered.

    “I didn’t know you couldn’t do magic,” Daki said, kind of stupidly.

    Rien just sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah, well, I’ve been trying not to tell anyone here at the academy. Wynrie knows, and so does Maki. They’re really the only ones. And now you.”

    Daki raised his head up, furrowing his brow once more. “Why tell me? I’ve been a dick to you since day one.”

    Rien shrugged. “I figured if we’re being forced to room and train with each other because of our Celestials, I might as well tell you the obvious that you would be seeing. Speaking of magic, how’s yours coming along? The Queen’s messenger taught you something new, right? That’s why you dragged me here?”

    Daki just nodded, settling back into his arms with a frown. “Yeah but… it’s difficult. I’m having second thoughts. It might be best to continue doing it back at the academy, instead of here.”

    Rien just flicked his forehead.

    “Hey! That’s not nice!” Daki sat up, rubbing the place on his forehead that Rien flicked.

    “You won’t learn unless you go out of your comfort zone.”

    The gray soul kind of stopped, staring at him. Why was this entitled black soul giving him such strange information today? Rien nodded over to the crowd that was standing around a table. Two men were in an intense gambling match, from the looks of it, the stakes were high.

    “Try it there. Plenty of distractions, not many people to notice.”

    “How do you know all of this?”

    Rien just winked with a sly smirk. “I’ll tell you later.”

    Daki just groaned, closing his eyes and burying himself into his mug. He heard Rien starting to work on his homework again, and Daki felt a tap against his foot, signaling that it was good to go. He focused deep into his soul, imagining the room, and suddenly, he was able to get a reading of the environment.

    From his vision, though his eyes were closed, the black world was outlined in stark white, with only the brightness of everyone’s shadow to guide him. Over at the gambling table, he found that Rien was correct. Plenty of shadows, plenty of people engrossed by their game. Any tingle in their soul that would alert an intruder could be passed off as a high stakes anticipation.

    Daki’s soul and vision jumped to one of the gambler's shadows, and suddenly, Daki was able to hear, see and understand everything that was happening, though he was watching in third person. He could hear some of the patrons whispering around him, some suggesting some cards to play, others trying to help him cheat. On the table was some highly prized jewels, beautiful enough to make any rich man drool in his sleep. He had a losing hand, which was probably why his brow was sweaty, and his poker face was starting to fade.

    It was clear that, across from him, the finely dressed man in blue, silken robes and deep purple hair had a winning hand. He smirked at the commoner, lazily adjusting the collar on his robes, leaning back in anticipation. To Daki, it seemed this commoner waged his savings on this in hopes of gaining more than he bargained, and it was not going in his favor.

    Behind this man was a bouncy, anxious woman, who seemed to be the man’s wife. She was looking over his hand, and in that moment, Daki took that opportunity to jump to her. It was a good decision, because he could feel from her soul that she was incredibly nervous, despite the winning situation. He was also able to see from her perspective the blatant cheating of this simple card game. Hidden in one of the man’s sleeves were several losing cards, probably making it so that the information was only privy to his wife. Daki jumped away and came back to his body with a sudden gasp of air, and in the distance, he heard the commoner groan, “I fold.”

    Rien raised an eyebrow, and Daki sent him a look of “don’t ask yet”. He just nodded and went back to his schoolwork. The lord chuckled to himself, scooping all of his winnings into a pouch on his side, then standing up and linking arms with his wife. He bid the commoner goodbye, a sneaky smile on his face that could easily be misconstrued for a charming grin. Once the lord left, the commoner held his head in his hands, while some other patrons ordered him a couple of drinks, taking the two royal leige’s seats.

    Daki let out a breath he was holding, and gave a little smile to Rien.

    “It worked.”

    Rien’s eyes lit up, almost literally with his pupils, and he leaned forward. “Really? How did it go?”

    Daki, saying it in the most casual, but also low voice he could, explained how the lord had been cheating, making himself have a better hand than he started with. But more importantly, he described the experience of shadow hopping, and the two of them, for the first time, acted giddy together at the newfound power.

    “That’s so interesting,” Rien started, taking a thoughtful sip of his ale. “I wonder if you could jump into shadows that don’t have a soul attached.”

    Daki just shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s currently not up to me, but up to the Raven herself. Which, by all accounts, is a weird sentence to say aloud.”

    Rien chuckled slightly, tapping the edge of his quill against the counter. The two sat in silence for a while, before Daki finally piped up with a question he had been curious about for a while. “Say, Rien, if you can’t do any magic, how do you suppose that your two celestials are going to teach you any of their special techniques? Would you even be able to handle it if you already knew how to do magic?”

    Rien bit his lower lip, with it being his turn to have a confused look on his face. “I dunno. That’s what all of this is for,” he started, gesturing vaguely to the papers in front of him. “It’s all about how I feel on a day to day basis. I dunno, I feel like I’m being treated like a child, but they say it’s necessary.”

    Daki just nodded, drinking his untouched ale and staring out into the street once more. To be honest, he didn’t think that Rien was so special to begin with. He was a black soul, yes, and if he couldn’t do magic, then he was nothing more than an insignificant bug that Daki could easily squash under his feet. And yet, despite all of this, the guy somehow managed to become the divined champion of not one, but two of the Celestials in the prime council. Two! And these two were the heads of the council, who basically ruled over all things Celestial. Just the thought of it made his blood boil.

    It was Daki who stood up first and walked out of the dinner, putting a couple of gold down for the workers. That was usually how him and Rien departed. No words, no acknowledgement, just silent resentment. As he slowly walked around the boardwalks connected to the canyon walls, he realized that there had been something different in his encounter with Rien. He couldn’t shake the sad look that Rien kept getting in his eyes. So much so, it caused him to stop and look at the descending shadows from the fall of sunset. Part of him thought that, maybe, just maybe, there was more to this guy than meets the eye. The other part of him grit his teeth, shook his head, and forced himself to keep moving back onto campus. Yet, the thought still lingered, deep within the recesses of his mind.