#no big planning. no 'oh i gotta wait a certain amount of time.' nah. when he knows... he knows. and he's gonna ask. ))

[tenebriism]

// This is relevant to events currently happening on Wire, but...

Baizhu is one of those muses who proposes early on, in a relationship. I don't mean, like, 5 days in or a month. He still needs to build that trust and cemented dynamic with someone, but once he knows, he doesn't hold back. He doesn't have the luxury of waiting years and years and years. Of going through life conventionally. He could be here one day, gone the next, because of his extremely unpredictable illness.

And he's okay if his partner says no. He will never hold it against them. He understands not everyone will be ready for that, no matter what point of the relationship it's in... but if he really, truly loves someone, he doesn't want to pass away with regrets, having never asked and achieved that dream.

[moony-meadow]

Going for Goldie (2)

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 4 / Pt. 5 / Pt. 6

“Are you completely insane?!” I hissed as I rounded on Mammon. Despite my shorter height and lack of demonic powers, I was doing my best to appear daunting to the demon.

“Aw, don’t be like that. It’ll be perfectly safe.” Mammon insisted, hands raised in a placating manner.

I scoffed sharply. “There is nothing safe about a demon eating me!” It had taken mere minutes of being in the Devildom for me to figure out how demons typically viewed humans. I’d lost count of the amount of times someone had expressed the desire to eat me. And while it had certainly been alarming at first, I’d mostly learned to just ignore it. But of course, here Mammon was bringing the topic directly to my attention.

Mammon gave me a pouty look. “Come on, Y/N, do ya really think I’d suggest it if I thought you’d be in any kinda danger?”

I leveled the demon with a flat expression. “You’ve been saying you want to eat me since we first met,” I responded. “This whole thing smells like an elaborate ploy to get me to let you do it.” Not only did Mammon have Lucifer’s threat of punishment preventing him from acting out on his desire, but now he also had a pact with me that allowed me to boss him around to my heart’s content if I so wished. Of course, I didn’t usually abuse that power, but I certainly would make use of it if the Avatar of Greed attempted to make a meal of me.

With an overexaggerated gasp, Mammon clutched dramatically at his chest. “You really think I’d do somethin’ like that?”

All I offered was an eyeroll in response. After spending so much time with Mammon, I had genuinely come to consider him to be a friend. I found it hard to believe that he had any actual intent to harm me. That being said, I wouldn’t put it past him to develop some complicated scheme that allowed him to safely eat me.

“All ya gotta do is let me shrink you. Then I’ll swallow you, you’ll grab Goldie, and I’ll bring ya both back up.” Mammon said it like it was such a minor favor to ask of someone.

I folded my arms over my chest. “Why don’t you get someone else to do it? Why’s it gotta be me?” I questioned him.

“I can only shrink humans, and I ain’t about to trust Solomon not to try to cast some weird curse on me while he’s in there,” Mammon replied. “Besides, since you have a pact with me, you can order me not to digest you or anything.”

The image that popped into my head of myself melting in a belly full of stomach acid sent a shiver down my spine. “Does it really work like that?” I asked with uncertainty. I knew I could order Mammon to do certain things as a result of our pact, but controlling the natural functions of his body seemed like a whole other thing entirely.

Mammon gave an enthusiastic nod. “Oh yeah, so long as you command me not to digest ya or harm ya in any way while you’re in there, you’ll be as safe as can be!”

I pursed my lips. Every argument I brought forth was quickly shot down by the demon. It seemed like he’d really thought this plan through. However, I wasn’t about to give in just yet. “Well, won’t I just get stuck in there the same as Goldie? And wouldn’t she already be digested by now, anyways?”

Mammon waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, I won’t shrink ya down as small as her. Plus, if I can’t get ya out naturally, I could always just swallow the end of a string and pull ya out that way.” He beamed, seeming very proud of his forethought. “And I had an indestructible spell put on Goldie a long time ago.” Somehow, I wasn’t surprised by that.

The more we talked, the more I felt myself being backed up into a wall. Of course, I could just flat out refuse to have any involvement and leave Mammon to deal with his own problems. And yet, I remembered all the times he had let me drag him along on my little missions. As uncomfortable as the idea of letting a demon swallow me whole made me, I couldn’t help but feel as though I owed it to him.

I blew out a long sigh. “Alright, if I’m going to do this, I expect to get something in return.” I may have owed Mammon a favor, but that didn’t mean I was willing to get eaten free of charge.

A wide grin formed on Mammon’s face, clearly pleased that I was agreeing to go along with his plan. “Okay, what’re ya thinkin’?” Being the Avatar of Greed, he wasn’t particularly generous. Which was why I was somewhat surprised he wasn’t expressing more displeasure at the prospect of paying me back.

Pausing for a moment to consider, I tapped thoughtfully at my chin with a finger. Mammon was usually pretty broke so asking for straight up money probably wouldn’t work out. The reason he was still able to go on spending sprees was currently sitting in his stomach. That was when a lightbulb turned on in my head. “Mammon, if I do this for you, then you have to let me use Goldie as much as I want for a full day,” I announced, a smug smile on my face.

Mammon’s eyes went big as he began to sputter indignantly. If there was one thing he was protective of, it was his precious credit card. Hence why he’d swallowed the thing to prevent Lucifer from getting his hands on it. I knew letting me have it for a day would be tough for him to permit, but I felt that if I was going to save it, I should at least get the chance to use it. “But--but don’t ya want somethin’ else?” Mammon asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

I gave a casual shrug. “It’s either you let me use Goldie for a day, or she stays stuck in your stomach forever.”

Wearing a pout on his face, Mammon looked about ready to argue. However, as soon as he took note of the “no nonsense” exuding from my facial expressions and body language, he gave a resigned sigh. “Fiiine, but ya better treat her right!” he demanded.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this over with, alright?” I knew if we waited too long I’d find a way to talk myself out of it.

At my words, Mammon brightened. He looked way too excited about the prospect of eating me. The white-haired bastard was obviously looking forward to it. “Okay, just stand still while I shrink ya. It shouldn’t hurt, though I’ve heard it does tingle,” he remarked.

Before I could ask exactly how many humans Mammon had shrunk before, I began to feel goosebumps popping up all over my body. Sure enough, I was overcome with a powerful tingling sensation. It wasn’t long before I started to notice the proportions of everything around me beginning to change.

As I steadily shrank smaller and smaller, the regret started to set in. I quickly forgot all my reasons for agreeing to go along with this plan as Mammon began to absolutely tower over me. I was about at his hip height, then knee, then I finally stopped when I was just barely tall enough to reach his ankle. He grinned down at me, apparently pleased with his handiwork. Meanwhile, I stared back with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes pt6: A slow morning

Summer:.......

Shiva:*smiling* Aren’t you going to invite me in?

Summer:How is this happening?

Shiva:Come on, your are weak but not stupid. I’m sure you already have a few ideas. *skipping to the bed*

Summer:.....I’m still sleeping aren’t I?

Shiva:Bingoooo!!! *flops on bed* Gods I forgot how soft this bed was! It’s been ages since I layed here; reminds me of the real deal. Can’t wait to lay in it again.

Summer:*glares* Fat chance....

Shiva:Oh wipe that ridiculous look off your face and take a breather. No way I’m fighting you in this place. I just wanna talk.

The young woman layed back up and crossed her legs elegantly as she stared down Summer who was still in the door way. The smug smile that she wore was nothing new to her condescending attitude but it held a certain light hearted feature to it. Summer could tell that Shiva was telling the truth, so why did that only make her more anxious?

Shiva:There’s enough room in this bed for two you know?

Summer:I’m perfectly fine standing here. *tensing up*

Shiva:Whatever makes you less scared. Just when I thought you were getting more assertive. I guess it’s just desperation that made you steal those vials.

Summer:How....I was warm with that happened.

Shiva:Yeah but you’ve been thinking about it nonstop and obviously you’re cold enough for all this to happen. It’s only natural I find out; does natural even apply to us. Huh, something to ponder for later. Right now I’m way more interested in what exactly do you hope to accomplish. I tried digging deeper in that pretty head of yours but I can only get so deep, or maybe you’re winging it. *stands up*

Summer:Like I’d tell you. Just know your days are numbered.

Shiva:Funny, took the words right out my mouth. If anyone knows just how big the difference is from creating plan and executing it properly, it’s you. How many times has it been I wonder, since I left you freezing to death in your own mind? By now your friends and family have to be really tired of dealing with you.

Summer: Their problem is with you, not me!

Shiva:Now now Summer, do you really want to yell at me?

A chill ripped through her suddenly as her feet were frozen in place. The air itself started to get cooler to her discomfort. Despite her efforts, Summer started to shiver a little as Shiva walked closer. A piece of Summer really wanted to scream but refused to. The urge slowly growing though as her captors hand reached out to her. Nimble fingers on her left cheek caused the poor girl to nearly jump out her skin. Something told her that speaking wasn’t a good idea at the moment.

Shiva:That’s better, I really like this room the way it is. As I was saying, you’re nothing but a burden. The one’s you love wouldn’t be tired of me if you were strong enough to get rid of my from the start. Maybe then mommy dearest wouldn’t have a cute little scar that runs across the first one at the bottom. Man can she dodge like nobodies business. I wanted to leave a much bigger reminder of our meeting. If memory serves me well then it was diamond dust that caused the reaction and the whole apartment. History re-

Summer:*grabs wrist* That’s never happening again. You’re not catching anyone off gaurd by a long shot. We’ve learned many things in six years and you’ll feel like nothing but a bad dream in six more. My family will be just fine.

Shiva:Ah, there’s that little fire in your eyes. Always ready to come out whenever someone threatens mommy, daddy, or big brother. It’s the only time you are actually interesting. I wonder if it’ll keep you warm against me, or you’ll burn yourself by clinging to it?

..............

Shiva:Hmph, well I think I’ve had enough fun for the moment. I suppose I should let you rest while you still can; it’s only fair.

Summer:*lets go* Gee how thoughtful....

Shiva:Goodbye little one. I’m gonna enjoy this bed. *puts cover on the floor*

Summer:What are you-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Her body jolts violently as her eyes open. The right side of her body aches and feels like it’s on something way less soft than she is used to. Slowly her senses come back and notices that she’s currently on floor next to a knocked over heater. Shiva’s surprise appearance started to make sense; just another precaution to add to the list. The dim light hit Summer’s face from the bedroom window told her it was still early. As much as she wanted to move back to her bed, all the strength she had was put into placing the heater back up right. Then she pulled the cover down to the floor with her and went back sleep.

xxx

Year round, Atlas always looked like a work out art at a museum in Nicholas eyes. Freshly fallen snow in the beginning of Winter though, that’s when Atlas becomes the center piece of it all. Crisp air tickles his nose as he walks down the quiet streets with two coffees in hand. Behind him the sound of snow crunching in his previous foot steps gets louder. He raises the coffee in his left hand for it to be promptly grabbed.

Valerie:Five sugars!?

Nick:With a small amount of cream for good measure.

Valerie:Man if there’s one thing I miss about school mornings, it’s this baby right here.

Nick:*chuckles* You do realize you could’ve gotten one of those at anytime you wanted right?

Valerie:Nah, they’re reserved for this moment every time or it feels less special. Coffee on the way to school is our thing; don’t want to abuse that.

Nick:If you say so. What happens when we eventually graduate then.

Valerie:I’ll get it once in a blue moon and remember all the good times of combat school.

Nick:Do good times and combat school even fit together like that?

Valerie:Now you sound like your sister. Speaking of which......

Nick:Doubt she’ll show up today.

Valerie:Such a shame. One of these days a teacher is gonna blow a fuse. I don’t even think the Prince of Atlas could stop them from expelling her.

Nick:They will as long as I make the school look good and please don’t call me that. “A prince is nothing compared to knight that chooses to defend him.”’ I’d rather be the knight.

Valerie:I don’t see why you can’t be both. Your parents might as well be kickass King and Queen but I digress. Can’t really blame Summer for wanting to skip the P.E. physical.

Nick:*eyes widened* Gods I’m stupid,m. Of course that’s why she’s not here. It skipped my mind the two of you have that today.

Valerie:Not surprising, you don’t wittiness the crap that goes down. One of these days I might just fight half the girls in that locker room.

Nick:That bad huh?

Valerie:It’s not like they’re even saying much either, but the way all of them stare. Silently judging and forming opinions about her scars makes me wanna drop kick all of them. *aggressively sips coffee*

He couldn’t help but smile at his oldest friend’s remark. Valerie definitely was never one to put someone in their place. She was typically open and blunt just like her mother. Frankly it was hard to tell if any of Ren’s mannerisms or genes; especially with her hair being short. He sort of missed seeing it long if he was honest with himself. She’s kept it short since the day she decided to start “exploring.” Nicholas took a long sip of his drink to avoid making a frown. Both of them would do anything for Summer; that’s his sister and Valerie is her closest friend as well, but he knows that friendship probably isn’t what compels her to help. He’d have to be naive to believe it was.

Valerie:Hmmm? What’s wrong Nicholas?

Nicholas:Nothing, just thinking about the test is all.

Valerie:Nice try, that’s not a “I’m afraid of a test look.” You’re way to smart and study hard. I bet that expression doesn’t even exist. Something else is up.

Nick:Well maybe this is the first time I’m worried about a test so you finally see the expression? *sips loudly*

Valerie:*pouts* I hope you know that you can tell me anything right? We’re best friends remember. *nudges him*

Nick:Yeah I know?(That’s the problem....)

Valerie:*smiles* So be straight with me instead of giving me the run around.

Nick:I just really want you to lo.........

Valerie:To....?

Nick:To....keep an extra good eye on Summer for the upcoming weeks. Classes are starting again, tournament preparation, the usual bullies, etc. It be a bit overwhelming for her in the beginning. Look after her if she needs any help.

Valerie:Of course! I’ll always be there for Summer!

Nick:Trust me, I know you will.

Valerie:That goes the same for y-

Nick:VAL!!!!. *grabs her arm*

He yanks her left arm to pull her in close to him The sudden movement causes her tense up as they see a car swerve onto the sidewalk at high speed before taking off moments from where she just stood. Her head is still processing the events that unfolded as her body is being held tightly against Nicholas’s shorter and slightly smaller frame. His body shaking with adrenaline. He began shouting at the car angrily.

Nick:LEARN HOW TO DRIVE IN THE SNOW DUMB ASS!!!!

Valerie:Wow, that was.....close.

Nick:*lets her go* Are you okay!? Nothing clipped you?

Valerie:......

Nick:Valerie!?

Valerie:*shakes head* Sorry, I’m alright. That was just ummmm, wow that was close. Lucky you were here. I guess it’s officially that time of the year again.

Nick:The only down side of all the ice and snow. Tsk, I gotta a deal with a whole season of this again. You sure you’re okay?

Valerie:*rotating shoulder* Yeah I’m good. Wasn’t expecting that yank but it’s better than a tire on my chest.

Nick:Oh, sorry about that. Guess I went full force.

A bluish bruise was left where he grabbed her arm. While he frowned at it, Valerie was actually a bit surprised and a bit impressed. Seeing Nicholas that serious outside of a match is a rare sight. Forever he’s cool, collected, and isn’t one to show up that much. She could count the number of times that he’s actually caught an attitude with somebody. Soon her aura kicked in and erased the bruise all together.

Valerie:Look, all better in no time at all. Also no need to apologize for saving my skin. *smirking* Been awhile since I’ve seen that level of pissed off from you.

Nick:*red* Well can you blame me!? Almost had a tragedy today.

Valerie:Oh but we still do...*points to the snow*

Both of them watch the white snow become dyed brown and melting from their spilled morning brew. Sadly they pick up the trash and continue to walk.

Valerie:Better the drinks than me but still a shame.

Nick:Sigh, Maybe I should’ve stayed in bed today too. Tomorrow let’s just ride the bus.

Valerie:*giggles* You’re the boss!

The two of them walked twice as fast to school until they ended up in front of the school. Nothing amazing about the building really. Just the regular combat/high school. Half the size of Beacon or Atlas maybe which makes since considering there’s no dorms. Just plenty of class rooms, a huge cafeteria, and a massive space in the back filled with multiple area’s designed for different sports. All in all the back had to be a least a couple of acres give or take but it’s mostly for the track and plenty of open space. They’ve arrived before most students even though they walked. Winter break must be making everyone a bit sluggish. Thes shiny white and gray hallways should have tons of people struggling to remember their locker combinations right now.

Valerie:Looks like most people are following your sister’s lead about school. Oh well, that just means science might be quiet for a change. Only one way to find out. *walking away* If I see you in between classes I’ll give you the inside scoop on the test.

Nick:I’d rather you just make sure you pass so all that studying wasn’t for nothing.

Valerie:Deal! Consider it my way of thanking you from earlier.

Nick:......

Nick:I don’t wanna be that guy but that gift doesn’t sound worth it.

Valerie:Hehehe, I guess you’re right. Give me some time to think about it. Love ya! *runs off*

Nick:.....Sigh, not the way I wish you would.

Valerie:(Hmmm for second I thought he had something in mind. Oh what to do? Maybe Summer can give me a couple ideas later; possibly even make a whole day out of it!) *grinning* Pfft wouldn’t that be nice?

Nick:*opening Locker* (Okay, Take notes in history for two, Ace a science test, lunch, free period, and then help organize the tournament. Should be a calm day.)

P.A. System:Would all members of the student council please meet in the auditorium during first period? Thank you...”

Nick:Okay, no notes I guess. I can always use free period. Still a calm day. *closes locker*

He turns around to see a middle aged black man dressed in a stylish black suit with a cyan tie and a black fedora with a ribbon around it that matches the tie. The man smiles at Nicholas who displays a neutral face that slowly turns into one of exhaustion, even though the day just started.

Nick:Hello Mr. Coal.

Flynt:Hello Nicholas, shall we talk in the courtyard or my office.

Nick:The principal’s office always has candy so I think you know my answer.

Flynt:Let’s mosy on then.

Nick:Sigh, I wish I still had my coffee.

Part 5

[angryteapot]

You Make My Dreams

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barista!Reader

Summary:  It’s funny how simple changes, often the ones given little to no thought, could change the course of a person’s life. Change leads to new dreams. 

Warnings: Cursing, slight abuse mentioned in passing, and Steve getting injured ofc, and probably way too many gifs, but hey it’s a lot of text.

Word Count: 5194

A/N: Written for @tilltheendwilliwrite ’s 6K challenge. Congrats again, babe! Song Prompt: You Make My Dreams by Daryl Hall and John Oates . Lyrics italicized and indented. 

It’s funny how simple changes, often the ones given little to no thought, could change the course of a person’s life. Take Steve Rogers, for example. Steve was out for his morning run per usual, taking one of his three established routes in the city. Tony would have said being predictable was a security disaster in the making, but Steve paid him no mind, he was Captain-freakin’-America and could take out any threat.

Aside from that, Steve normally ran the trails around the compound; he was only in the city this week because he and Bucky wanted to hang out away from the compound. Steve still had his apartment in the city, that was where he spent his days off, away from his mantle as the Captain as he roamed the city and sketched.

When it came to his quiet time away from the Avenging life, Steve liked his routines, predictable though they may have been. Other than the persistent fans he dodged on his runs, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

This particular day, however, there was something waiting for Steve that he couldn’t fix with his fighting skills - a roadblock and detour sign. Normally when Steve encountered road construction, it was only the road itself that was blocked off, the fenced sidewalks were still free to walk.

But oh no, not today, no siree. Today everything was blocked off. His usual path was obstructed, his run was ruined. Had it been mentioned that Steve had a flair for the dramatics?

Sighing and turning in slow circles, Steve pulls up a mental map of the surrounding streets, and chose a new route that would eventually merge with his familiar path. A little miffed at this new change, Steve started jogging, cataloging the new surroundings as he passed them by.

Unfortunately for him, he miscalculated the distance and was growing thirsty by the time he reached a quaint park, the halfway mark towards his destination. Panting slightly as he looked around, Steve saw a little trailer parked on the sidewalk at the edge of the park, the hand-scripted sign broadcasting it as ‘Just the Sip,’ whatever that meant. He felt like it was an innuendo for something.

The scent of a savory brew was wafting from there, it seemed like the best bet for his parched throat; if he was lucky they would also have bottled water.

Walking up to the window of the little trailer, he could hear muffled cursing and banging, there was no one visible in the space.

“Hello?” He tentatively called out a greeting, unsure of what he was even doing. He should’ve just kept running, hydration be damned.

“Oh! Hi!” A woman popped up suddenly,  nearly making Steve reach reflexively for a shield that wasn’t there. The woman’s hair was a mess, strands falling from her messy bun and cascading down her face, her apron askew and a smudge of something on her cheek. “Sorry about that, one of the machines was giving me a bit of trouble. How can I help you?”

Steve merely blinked.

“Captain Rogers, are you alright?”

The sound of his name seemed to reboot his brain.

He cleared his throat before responding with a sheepish smile, “Yes, I’m fine. And you can call me Steve.”

The woman smiled brightly, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Well Steve, I’m Y/N, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. What brings you here around these parts?”

Now that Steve knew the woman’s - your - name, he figured he should probably be a proper gentleman and stop being a speechless idiot.

“Well Y/N, I gotta tell ya, I really don’t know what happened with my morning. A roadblock, a miscalculation, and some dehydration led me to this place.”

Steve looked around the park, smiling as he took notice of the quaint charm of the surrounding area.

“Can’t say I’m too mad about it, not when I discovered a little pocket place like this one. Seems a little…”

Steve trailed off, unsure of a description that would fit how he was feeling about this place.

You huffed a breath to clear some strands of hair from your face, leaning on your elbows as you looked out at the park with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Seem a little out of place, out of time - like we’ve stumbled into a secret garden in a pocket universe.”

Steve looked at you in awe and chuckled, amazed that you described exactly how this place made him feel. “You’re sure somethin’, you know that Y/N?”

You clapped your hands together and stood up, “Yep, so I’ve been told! Now, you mentioned some dehydration? Can’t have Captain America keeling over like an old man, now can we? What can I get ya?”

Your taunting and playful smirk surprised Steve. He was used to people treating him as someone untouchable, someone you shouldn’t speak to, much less poke fun at. You treated him like an old friend despite just meeting him, and he had to say that the change of pace was nice, it made him feel normal.

“I am an old man, but far from keeling over. I didn’t bring my bifocals to read the menu, what would you recommend?’

You laughed and looked at him dryly, “Oh Steve, we’re gonna have to work on your old man sense of humor, it’s atrocious. Now, what’re you looking for? I’ve got coffee, specialty drinks, tea, bubble tea, cold brews, juice, soda, and plain ol’ water.”

“Wow, big selection. I don’t really have time to stay and properly taste any drink, I’ve got plans with my best friend. How about just water this time, and next time you can recommend me a drink to sit and enjoy?”

“Ah, I do appreciate a star spangled man with a plan," you sing-songed the old tune. "Bottled water, comin’ right up, Cap.”

Your playful wink and reference to his ‘dancing monkey’ days had him grumbling as he fumbled for a few dollars to pay.

You turned back to him and held out the water bottle saying, “Eh, don’t worry about it, water’s just a dollar. Consider it a gift for letting me poke fun at you.”

Steve smiled gratefully, grabbing the water from your outstretched hand.

“Thanks for the water. Have a drink recommendation ready, I’ll be seeing you soon Y/N,” Steve did a lazy two-finger salute and jogged off with a smile.

You shook your head and chuckled, who knew Captain America was such a laid-back dork? No, not the Captain - Steve Rogers. Two different personalities, one a stoic no-nonsense hero, the other a charming goofball from Brooklyn.

Sighing and rolling up your sleeves, you dove back in to fix the machine that was previously giving you trouble. Humming while working, your thoughts lingered on a certain bright smile. You really did hope that he would come back like he promised.

* * *

For the rest of his run Steve’s thoughts lingered on your sweet smile and teasing laugh, the way your nose would scrunch up, and how the laugh lines around your eyes would appear when you squinted in laughter.

Oh boy, he was definitely in trouble if you were already taking over his thoughts after only one encounter.  

He finished his run and returned to his and Bucky’s apartment, hopping in for a quick shower before Bucky came back from the market. He got out and got dressed, dark jeans and a grey crew-neck muscle shirt, opting to remain barefoot until it was time to leave.

He made himself a cup of coffee, slowly nursing it as he picked up his book, and continued reading from where he last left off.

Keys jingled, the doorknob to the apartment ratted, and Bucky was suddenly through the door with an armful of grocery bags.

“Hey punk, mind closing the door for me? I’m gonna put the food away.”

Steve acquiesced, dog-earing the current page in his book. After closing and locking the door, he went to help his friend put away the alarming amount of groceries.

“You know we’re only here for another day or so, right? This is a bit excessive, even for us.”

Bucky sent a nonplussed look towards Steve. “With as much running as you’ll likely be doing, I figured you could use the fuel. Now who’s the dame?”

Steve should probably be surprised, but nothing got past Bucky. “How did you even…? Nevermind. Her name is Y/N. She owns a little coffee trailer at some neighborhood park. She’s feisty, I think you’d like her.”

Bucky shook his head and smiled knowingly. They continued putting away the groceries, Steve all the while picking at the fruit and stuffing his mouth as he continued talking about his encounter with the pretty barista.

Perishables put away, they worked in tandem to cook up brunch, finally sitting down at the island with their coffee and fruit-adorned french toast. They ate in silence, Steve reading his book, and Bucky reading the day’s newspaper.

After a moment of silence there was a hesitant, “Hey Buck, what does ‘Just the Sip’ mean?”

Bucky choked on his drink of coffee, nearly spewing it across the island. He coughed and pounded on his chest, settling into a hearty laugh now that his airways were clear.

“Oh my god. Is that the name of her business? I love her already, Stevie you have my permission to marry her.”

Steve blushed - this did not bode well.

“So…. you gonna keep laughing, or are ya going to tell me what it means?”

Bucky smiled and shook his head, “Nah punk, I’m gonna keep laughing. As a matter of fact, I’ve gotta meet this girl. Forget the plans, we’re going to that park and having a nice cup of coffee while I get to know her.”

Steve cursed under his breath - this definitely did not bode well.

* * *

“‘Just the Sip,’ huh? Figured you’d leave the explaining to me?”

You were sitting at one of the little tables outside your coffee trailer, reading your book and sipping at a chai latte. At the sound of the familiar voice, you abandoned your book and sprung up from your chair with a smile.

“James! Where’ve you been, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

You jumped into Bucky’s embrace, laughing as he hugged you tight and swung you around.

He set you down and chided, “Doll, I told you to call me Bucky. Why do you insist on being a pain in my ass?”

“Because everyone treats you like glass, and someone’s gotta keep you on your toes. Besides, I like pissing you off; it’s fun.” Your sass didn’t go unappreciated by the super soldier.

“Wait you know each other?”

Oops, busted. You turn towards a glum-looking Steve, wiggling your fingers at him in a wave.

“Back so soon, Captain? I have that drink recommendation if you’re ready for it,” your knowing smile is telling.

“Okay but - ”

“I’ll explain over your drinks. The usual, James?”

“Yes please darlin’.”

“Have a seat boys, I’ll be right out with them!”

They sat down and Steve gave his best friend an incredulous, wounded look. “Are you two, y’know...?”

“Don’t be stupid, Stevie,” Bucky’s teasing tone turned serious with his next words. “When uh, after I came back from Wakanda, I was still a little broken, ya know. My life consisted of you, and, after Thanos, Sam. You two were the only ones I had, but I still felt off, like everyone was treatin’ me with kid gloves, even you. Sam was the only one who didn’t take any of my shit, and it made me feel… normal.”

“Bucky, ya could’ve told me - ”

“No, it’s okay Stevie, you were stretched too thin, I know you were trying your best. One day when you were on a mission, Sam brought me to the city and we went a few places, explored a little bit. We even went to the V.A. for a bit. But even there, I felt like I didn’t belong. I told Sam I needed some alone time, and he understood. He was actually the one that told me about this place. He said there was somethin’ about it that just made the weight of the world seem like a lighter load, and he was right. I found my way here and was sitting for a while, until people started stopping and staring. They were whispering things, but y’know we can hear everything with the serum…”

You suddenly were at the table with their drinks, and you set them down, placing a soothing hand on Bucky’s arm. Steve noticed you were touching his left arm, and he marveled at the fact that Bucky didn’t so much as flinch. He instead was looking up at you and smiling softly.

“They were assholes, they had no right.” Your voice was fierce with protectiveness, and Steve was happy knowing that Bucky had good friends outside of the compound, even if he was a little miffed that he had never even known about it.

“Yeah, Y/N was here that day, and she marched out of her trailer, sleeves rolled up and hair a mess like always.” You smacked Bucky upside the head and he laughed before continuing, “She started yelling at them, saying they should be ashamed of themselves for treating a national hero like that. It was the first time I had been called a hero, and it hit me hard. Everyone sees me as the Winter Soldier, only remembering the crimes I committed, but not Y/N. After the people had scuttled off, she came to sit next to me and brought me a drink, just started talking like we were old friends.”

You were sitting between them now, nursing your own drink, as you listened to Bucky talk.

“You are a hero.” You turned to Steve and continued the story as Bucky sat back and drank down  his bubble tea.

“He was having trouble adjusting, and he came to me for escape.” You shrugged and said this as if it was no big deal. “I treated him like any normal person should be treated, and we became fast friends. Soon enough everyone around here saw that he was harmless, and this became his safe haven.”

Bucky side-eyed you. “Well, I wouldn’t say harmless.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Steve excitedly. “Oh shit yeah, I forgot! There was this one regular, well he’s not anymore, but he became a bit aggressive in his advances. One time James was here when the guy decided to get a little fresh, and let’s just say that the guy no longer comes within five miles of here.”

Bucky smirked at Steve’s expression.

The conversation between you three flowed from there, and you would occasionally excuse yourself to help a customer, always coming back with different drinks for them too. Steve was convinced that he had tried at least half the menu in that one afternoon. He was suddenly grateful for his super soldier bladder.

The day wore on and you eventually packed up shop, locking everything down. Steve had intended on bidding you a good night after that, but you and Bucky had given him a strange look and laughed.

“C’mon Steve, dinner at Antoine’s is a tradition when James comes to visit me.”

Upon arriving at the little sandwich shop, the owner greeted you warmly and started preparing food for you and the boys.

Steve was a little apprehensive as you guided him to a table and sat without even ordering.

“Um, Y/N, we didn’t order. How does he know what to make?”

You and Bucky explained at the same time that Tony was always right when it came to food.

Steve remained skeptical until the food came, and after that he completely agreed with the both of you, the food was amazing.

* * *

Over the next two and a half years, Bucky and Steve had become staples in your life, the three of you forming a routine that you settled into with ease.

Sometimes Steve would come by himself, and would stay for days on end, becoming even more smitten with you by the hour. Sometimes Bucky would come by himself when Steve was away on mission, and he would take your mind off worrying about his best friend’s safety.

A lot of times, both of them came together and the three of you would spend hours or even days hanging out at your apartment when you weren’t working.

* * *

One night, you were woken up at some cursed hour by a persistent knocking at your door. You cautiously opened it to reveal Bucky holding up a bleeding, unconscious Steve. Now wide awake, you ushered them in and directed Bucky to the guest room.

“What happened?” You whispered in a hushed, anxious tone.

Bucky gingerly laid Steve on the bed and lowered himself into the plush chair beside the bed.

“Stealth mission gone wrong. Don’t worry, I already patched him up, he just needs to rest up and let the serum do its work now. Sorry about this, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, and your place was closer than the compound. Quinjet is on the roof, by the way.”

Bucky’s voice trailed off as he succumbed to sleep.

You shook your head at your the two idiots, and went to the closet to retrieve their duffle bags. They had spent the night often, so they had eventually just brought duffle bags with clothes and toiletries to leave there. Likewise, you had a similar duffle bag stashed at their place.

Fishing out their sleep clothes from the bags, you quietly crept over to where Bucky was snoring away. Trying not to wake him, you started pulling his numerous knives from their sheathes, setting them on the nightstand. You had successfully removed most of them, and wow he must have been exhausted if he hadn’t snapped awake by now.

As you were removing the last knife, your wrists were pinned in a painful position as Bucky shot up reflexively.

You hissed in pain, “James, it’s just me, can you please let me go?”

Bucky’s glazed eyes suddenly cleared, and he apologized profusely as he released your wrists and checked them with gentle fingers. “Doll, I’ve told you before not to do that. It’s dangerous. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry, I was just trying to make you more comfortable. Now that you’re up though, can you change Steve into the sleep clothes I left there? Your own clothes are beside his, come get me when you’re both decent.”

You padded into the kitchen and busied yourself with making a cup of tea. If you didn’t keep occupied, you’d fall asleep where you stood. Halfway through your tea, Bucky stumbled through the bedroom door in his pajamas and whispered, “Okay, all decent now.”

“Good. You can take my bed, I’ll stay with Steve and keep an eye on him.”

“Doll, no, I can’t let you do that. He’ll be fine, and I can sleep on the couch.”

You eyed your four foot couch and then sent the beefy super soldier a pointed glance.

“Yeah yeah, okay, you’ve made your point. But seriously, Y/N, he’ll be fine.”

“You know how I worry, James. I’ll just set an alarm for every two hours to check on him, and sleep on the chair.”

“Y/N, no I can’t le- ”

Your tone allowed no arguments, “James. I’ll be fine. I’ve done it before for your dumb ass, now it’s Steve’s turn to endure my mother hen nature. Go to my bed and sleep. You’re exhausted, and I don’t have the strength to pick you up from the floor if you pass out. I’ll be fine on the chair, you know I’ve fallen asleep there before when you came to me injured.”

Bucky relented and grumbled his way to your room, and you finished your tea until you heard Bucky’s snores.

Stumbling your way to the guest room, you checked on Steve’s breathing and his healing wounds. Setting the timer on your phone to two hours, you curled up on the chair with a blanket and sank into a restless sleep.

Despite the soft melody of your timer, you jolted you awake from your fitful slumber, standing up and stretching your aching body. You must have shifted into an awkward position to end up this sore.

You checked Steve’s breathing, his temperature, and changed the bandage on his seeping wounds, before turning back to the chair. You body ached even more just looking at it. Your last fuck flew out the door as you turned back to the bed and Steve, eyeing the ample room on the comfortable mattress. Yep, that’ll do nicely.

Steve was passed out, and your body was rejecting the thought of the chair, so you sank into the mattress with a pleased sigh. Despite Steve’s large frame, the bed was big, and you had more than enough room to lay down. Setting the timer for another two hours, you pulled the blanket over yourself and immediately fell asleep.

The timer went off, and this time it took you a little longer to wake up, because you were more relaxed. Getting up and repeating the process of checking on Steve, you blearily hit a button on your phone and fell asleep once more. Unfortunately, the button you thought you hit was meaningless, and the timer was left unset.

~ Several Hours Later ~

Steve was sure he had died and gone to heaven. The last thing he remembered, once again being reckless and self-sacrificing, was being stabbed multiple times, blacking out, then being dragged onto the Quinjet by a cursing Bucky. So when he awoke to the sight and bliss of you curled up next to him? Yeah, no need convincing him that this was heaven and not real life. He smiled and pulled your sleeping form closer, burying his nose in your hair as he held you gently.

A few minutes passed of this blissful cuddling, and then the door swung open open.

“Hey punk, good to see you’re still alive and - oh…” Bucky’s voice penetrated the silence, bursting Steve’s heavenly bubble, and startling you awake.

“‘M awake, ‘m awake. Mmm nooo ‘m not. Too warm ‘n comfy. Wake me when there’s breakf-” Your sleepy mumbling trailed off as you snuggled closer to a blushing Steve.

“Shaddup, asshole,” Steve whispered at a grinning Bucky as he settled in closer to you.

“Thought you’d died and gone to heaven when you woke up with her?” Bucky’s teasing hushed tone and sparkling eyes had Steve blushing once more.

Steve’s muttered ‘yes’ was telling in itself - he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you, and you had no idea.

* * *  

What I've got's full stock of thoughts and dreams that scatter

You pull them all together

And how, I can't explain

The melody in his head seemed to dance itself into a physical manifestation, warm and bright as it weaved its way into the air around him, transforming the drab cityscape into an explosion of color.

Everywhere he went, the song followed him, seeming to saturate the very molecules around him. After that night when you had kept watch over him and he had awoken to you next to him, Steve just fell a little harder for you with each passing day. Sometimes he thought you returned the sentiment, but other times you seemed oblivious.

Bucky, and even Sam, called you both clueless idiots. Steve decided that today was the day he would finally ask you out on a proper date. Instead of going on his usual run, he dressed nicely in black fitted jeans and his favorite cobalt button-up, slapping on some cologne as he headed out to the park where your coffee trailer was set up.

~ Meanwhile ~

“Hey asshole!” You took aim with your rubber band gun and pull the trigger, pumping your fist in victory as the douche yelped at the sudden sting on the back of his neck. “What the -”

Some cries for help had brought you out of your coffee trailer, wielding your rubber band gun for good measure, and you had seen a large man grab a woman by the wrist, his sweet talk turning aggressive. Everyone else in the park had scurried away and hadn’t bothered to help, and that pissed you off.

“Leave her alone, she’s made it clear that your attention is unwanted.” The woman looked towards you gratefully, her still-fearful eyes going between you and the man that was gripping her arm.

“Oh yeah? And what the hell’re you gonna do about it?” The stupid meathead looked smug as he said this, as if he thought you, the sweet-looking barista, couldn’t take him.

You smirked and rolled up your sleeves, stalking towards them with a wicked glint in your eye. “You wanna find out, tough guy?”

You voice was taunting and steely, your sweet face morphing into an expression of anger with a cheshire grin. Your gait, for lack of a better description, resembled the Winter Soldier’s Murder Strut™. Your harmless appearance suddenly turned very intimidating.

“Whoa lady, take it easy, I was only -” The guy released the woman’s arm, raising his own hands in an ‘I don’t want any trouble’ gesture.

“Leave,” you spat out and glared until the guy turned and stuffed his hands in his pocket, looking embarrassed as he power-walked away.

Your dominating posture relaxed, and your gentle demeanor returned as you gently guided the woman to sit at a table, getting her some tea as you tried to calm her down.

She shakily thanked you and sipped at her tea, you waved her dollars away when she tried to pay, as you gently took her phone and called the contact that was labeled ‘sister.’ The sister was frantic as you recounted the story, and assured you she’d come get the poor woman, all the while thanking you profusely for stopping the man.

Not five minutes later of you consoling the poor woman, Steve came walking up with his hands in his pocket, his sunny grin suddenly faltering as he noticed the shaken woman next to you.

“Excuse me miss, are you alright?” Steve’s gentle voice had the woman looking up, tears escaping her eyes again as she looked past him to a woman calling her name. She ran to the other woman, her sister you presumed, and the two hugged tightly. You smiled gently when they both walked back over to thank you again.

Once they left, Steve looked at you in bewilderment, eyebrows raised, silently asking ‘what the hell was that?’

You sighed and held up a finger, gesturing for him to sit, as you made your signature drink for the both of you. Of all the drinks you had made Steve try, your spiced apple pie latte had remained his favorite.

A few minutes later and you were sitting next to Steve, telling him the story of what had just happened. His eyebrows were drawn deeply together, a frown marring his handsome face, and he let out several small subconscious growls as you told him of the vile man.

Steve must’ve been very angry because the next thing you knew, the lid to his cup had popped off, hot liquid splashing over the both of you. Your shock gave way to amusement, then to loud laughter as Steve’s face took on a sheepish expression.

“Sorry Y/N, I -” Steve’s grimace deepened as the hot drink soaked through his jeans.

“Dude, you were really so angry that you gripped the cup too tight? Oh sweet baby bagels, I’ve never seen coffee literally explode from anger!” Laughter overtook you once more at Steve’s glum face.

After he cleaned up the mess and you made him another drink, Steve had started to laugh at himself. “Yeah, I guess that wasn’t my finest moment. I was kind of… imagining it was the guy’s neck. What kind of animal would assault a la-”

You put a gentle hand on his arm, bringing him out of what was sure to be an irate, but righteous, rant on modern scumbags. “It’s okay, Steve, I took care of it.”

He suddenly laughed, “I would have loved to see you put him in his place! What were you gonna do to him, anyway?”

“Eh, I dunno, they usually scamper off before it gets that far. Just the sight of an angry woman, rolling up her sleeves and stalking towards them, is enough to send them running.” You wave flippantly at his obvious concern. You had been taught self defense from a young age, you certainly knew how to handle yourself if it had come to a fight.

Steve’s eyes twinkled in amusement, a brief flash of sadness passing through the blue depths - you reminded him so much of Peggy. She would’ve liked you, he thought, sweet and compassionate but feisty and not afraid to fight for those less capable.

“While I’m not happy you put yourself in danger, I’m glad you were there to help that woman. I can’t believe everyone else just ignored what was going on.

“I don’t like bullies,” you said with a sweet smirk, a mischievous look in your eyes as you stood and straightened your apron.

You make my dreams come true

“Hey, Y/N?” Steve stood up with you and decided it was finally time to let you know how he felt.

“Yeah, Rogers?” You looked at him sweetly with a crooked smile.

“I, uh…” No, no, nope, he couldn’t do this. “I’m really glad you’re my friend.”

You internally rolled your eyes - this man was indeed the leading authority on waiting too long.

“You’re an idiot.” You grabbed his face and pulled it level with your own, kissing him soundly before you could lose your nerve.

“Mph!” Steve was caught by surprise but soon melted into the kiss, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer, the other winding its way into your soft hair.

You both pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads touching, relishing in this long-awaited moment.

“Yeah, yep, that was… wow. That was a comprehensive message, received loud and clear.”

Your bright laugh brought a smile to his face. “About damn time, Rogers. Now let me text Bucky and Sam, I wanna know who won the bet.”

“Bet? What bet?!” Steve trailed after you, grumbling that he was going to kill his two meddling best friends.

* * *

Life continued, your business grew, your relationship with Steve progressed, and everything was good. Even Bucky and Sam finally found happiness with feisty dames of their own.

Family, stability… the guy who wanted that went into the ice over 75 years ago, and someone else came out. That dream of the simple life was dead, but that was okay, because Steve Rogers had a new dream.

Life with you wasn’t simple - the world was messy and definitely unstable, you were unpredictable and kept him on his toes, but you were the ray of sunshine peeking through the dark clouds of his every-changing life, and Steve wouldn’t have it any other way.

For those of you interested, here’s the (vague) Apple Pie Latte recipe!

Apple pie chai blend tea with apples and gingerbread spice, mix that with a good amount of milk, espresso, some honey, and voila!

[monochromemedic]

Ok but what if Fallon was a twitch streamer

Fallon tapped away at his computer, adjusting his large expensive camera that was pointed at his face, and checked his soundboard for quick commands. He didn’t have any plans for today. He didn’t usually, unless a game came out.  Sometimes he’d talk, sometimes he’d do something crazy and unusual for the stream but most of the time, it was games. He took a quick look at himself in the camera one last time, slid on his sunglasses and started the stream, sending out notifications and a wait screen for people to gather. Of course it didn’t take long. Some people knew Fallon’s schedule like it was integrated in their soul. Others were just quick on the notifications he supposed. As soon as he saw a few people get in he tapped his pencil and began to view possible things from the list of things he had written down. A few minutes later and the chat was bumping. Inside memes, emotes flying, general talk and talk about Fallon himself was rampant. It only flew by faster as he unmuted his mic. “Hey guys, welcome. How’s it going?” He gave a little laugh when chat blew up, and only made people spam an emote he had that was used when Fallon was usually astonished or flustered by chat. He would always give a laugh when people responded so quick and fast. He was amazed at the following he had. “Good? Have a nice meal? Nice weather? Oh what’s that? That a link to- to my face on a ice cream and chat eating it that’s great, won’t give me nightmares.” He chattered before stretching and switching the camera to his face. “Hey. So I’ll be honest. Haven’t a clue what to do today. BUT. Isn’t that how most of our best streams go?” He raised his hands a little before putting them behind his head, swerving a bit in his gamer chair. “So what do we do. Any suggestions? Maybe we’ll just talk and have a bunch of mini things to do.” He looked a chat, swarming with suggestions, some he remembered that he promised to do, mostly joke ones, and some that alot of people were doing. “No taking shoes off, no... you gotta pay for my premium- not even Onlyfans, it’s Onlystans, Onlysimps. It’s like a cult you gotta make a blood sacrifice to get in. There’s like... only 3 other people on the site but you know what the managers there, real sweet.” He chuckled a bit at the reaction of the chat before sliding back up to the computer and starting up a few things people suggested. “Alright how about some shitty games. We’re doing that today, just the absolute bottom of the barrel. See how long it takes to tear our eyes out. Actually you know what.” He sat back in the chair again, hand on his chin. “I’ve seen... alot of shitty games. That just reuse the same assist. Cause you know their pumping this shit out trying to get a quick buck so how about this. We play a few crappy games, and then we go into a certain subgenre. Some real popular thing right now, like a FNAF. And we get some of those and we see how much is recycled and we get a drinking game out of it. Hell we’re look at a few to look at together make a bingo sheet of drinks!” He proclaimed Chat seemed to like that with the amount of pogchamps in the chat. Other people told him that he’d be dead in 10 minutes. “Hey if I get drunk, I get drunk! I don’t anything to do today, do you? I mean if you do maybe get a orange juice or something don’t get plastered. I get paid to get plastered. I get to be the dancing monkey.”  He went to a site and told chat to begin choosing a few and making stuff to go on the bingo card while he got some beers. And soon they had a list of games and a complete bingo card. Some of the games were pretty good in all honesty. Well considering they were trash. Although there was always something in them that made chat go mad with laughter.  A glitch, a funky texture, and later on the reoccurring assets. Soon he was plastered, his face red and sweaty, hair a mess as he tried not to lose his mind over the shitty model of a monster that slid across the ground. People were clipping it, making fun of him for laughing and saying how he was gonna piss his pants with how much he was laughing. It was only when someone in chat called him cute did he  pull his hoodie over a part of his face and paused the game. “No don’t call me cute, I got like... snot runnin down my face and like... i’m on the edge of just barfing.” A few people in the chat agreed, sending him hearts while others teasingly insulted him with jokes like how big of a chin and nose he had, and how ratty his hair was. He was in the middle of laughing and blushing as he waved  at the camera, people calling him handsome and cute. “Nah we gotta... we gotta look at this bear man this ain’t about me i mean look at the funny bear! I mean look at the funny fucking bear.” He sat back up and turned switched the camera to another wait screen, one with a little pair of sunglasses being wiped down that he used when he needed to take his glasses off, and began to wipe his eyes from the tears.  As he wiped down his glasses that were covered in sweat and tears he saw something out of the corner of his eyes in chat. ‘i’m new here, what’s with this guy and the sunglasses?’ A mod sent a command to a bot that spewed out a message, and he realized he hadn’t talked about it in a while. Well uh, as far as he could remember in his little haze. “I saw... someone in chat ask about the glasses.” He began, forgetting to turn his camera on before quickly changing it back, glasses back on his face. “I mean it’s in the description but... I haven’t said it in a while and like maybe I should just for... people who don’t read.” He said with a little snort. A few people in chat started to explain while others just gave a ‘they don’t know’ and a custom emote of Fallon with his glasses down and question marks for eyes. “Um... so. God I shouldn’t explain things while drunk. Uh. I know I put in the description don’t ask, and if you keep bugging me about it I ban or silence you for a while, and i know that’s a bitch move on my part. But i’ll give you some... Fallon lore. I know I might have said this a looong time ago but i’ll just say it again. Realsies, no jokes. Um...” He checked chat again, who were now slowing down, a bit quiet waiting for him to talk. “I uh... I got some problem with eye contact? Like I mention that too in the descripty... but like it’s real... real bad. It’s not like uncomfortable I know that’s what you all think I just get uncomfortable but it’s nooott.... that. I... freak the fuck out. Don’t know why. Just feel like shit when I do, hate being stared at without my glasses, hate looking at people back without em. So I wear sunglasses, the really dark ones, so I can see you, and you can see me, but we don’t like... see each other ya... know? Uh it feels like, the world is looking down at me, and I feel like shit and garbage, and just like... the worst disappointment so yeah-” He gave a little laugh and watched the chat who were spamming hearts and understanding messages. He probably would appreciate it more if he wasn’t plastered but he did stare at the chat for a while just watching the messages fly by. He had to take a second before shaking his head and blinking, before looking back at the game. “Won’t lie, I just stared into like the 6th dimension there. Sorry. Uh... thank you for the nice messages this is... stupidly nice. For ... what’s on the screen right now. You’re all super kind. Honestly this is why I do dumb shit like this and I talk to you about this stuff because you guys aren’t... assholes. You under- well... maybe not understand me at times but you at least put up with my bullshit and like me and you know if I can give even a little bit of love and appreciation back in some form. With dumb jokes and playing shit games it’s ... it’s the least I can do.” He slurred, before sliding back into his seat and taking a swig of water. “Alright let’s get back to the game, I bet some of you aren’t as plastered as you could be. If I don’t see one of you message me, and be like ‘Fallon, I just saw god when I went to go take a piss, i’m suing your ass’ I’m... i’ll be disappointed I don’t know about you guys. He continued to play for a some time, switching to water so he didn’t pass out and eventually ending the stream on a rather sweet note, with a few people saying how they couldn’t wait for the next stream. With the stream off he watched the chat die down into nothing, wiping his brow and smiling before shutting it all down.  His family might have given up on him, and seeing how he lived probably would make them upset. But he honestly didn’t care, he knew that at least he was good in a few peoples eyes.  And that’s all that mattered to him.

[jennifersylvesters]

how to trick someone into loving you ( part two - the beginning )

Synopsis: You would’ve been content with never interacting with Tom Holland. With his loud personality and questionable behavior, you planned on avoiding the dumb jock for all of your university days. But when he proposes a way for both of you to get what you want, how can you say no? Pairing: uni!Tom Holland x reader Word Count: 3.3k~ Warning: none?? A/N: time to dive into more dumb shenanigans. this picks off right where part one left off. still don’t have photoshop on this new laptop, so the header’s the same lmao. like y’all already know, feedback is always appreciated/welcome ~ 

“So you ready to start?”

There was an eagerness in Tom’s face as he expectantly grinned at you. As much as you appreciated the enthusiasm, you weren’t about to drop your plans to begin teaching him. You had other work that needed to get finished, and you couldn’t just focus on an acquaintance when you had other priorities. Or, well, in this case he was a new partner. Could you even call him that yet?

“Uh, no.” You told him that you still had to get coffee, trying to adjust to the day. After all, he caught you at the moment you were running errands.

He let out an “ah” before nodding his head understandingly. So when you began walking, you weren’t expecting him to follow. You definitely weren’t expecting him to talk to you about his future plans.

“You don’t have to follow me” you pointed out, hoping he would take the hint.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Apparently not.

So you were subjected to Tom’s ramblings, only half listening as he spoke about his grand schemes. He blathered incessantly, excited about potentially doing well in a course but more excited to help you.

Even though tuned him out as best as possible, you couldn’t ignore him pointing out your terrible flirting skills. It took all your restraint not to toss the coffee in his face and quit the agreement. You’d do fine without dating; Tom would not do alright with a failing grade.

But you didn’t want to back out on the potential hope just yet. After all, it hadn’t even been a full day; backing out so quickly would be quite sad. Things were bound to get better with him, right?

Still his ramblings drove you up the wall. In order to have him leave you alone, you suggested swapping numbers and discussing these schemes more in depth later. He agreed, calling your idea brilliant. Safe for now.

Or so you thought. It turned out that Tom loved texting and made it abundantly clear by messaging you constantly. You didn’t use your phone that often, so the bombardment of texts were overwhelming to say the least. He texted you about everything, even things that weren’t related to your plans.

tom: are you going to josh wagner’s party tonight? No. You weren’t friends with that jock.  tom: did you do the ethics homework? Obviously.  tom: if you did, will you let me copy your answer? Absolutely not. tom: do you think that fish in those restaurant tanks know they’re gonna be eaten? You had no idea. This wasn’t what kept you up at night. tom: have you done the bird box challenge? haz says only idiots do that but i think it’d be fun to do it. so if you’ve done it then i think it’s okay if i do it. That’s not how life works, Tom.

He exhausted you when he wasn’t even physically around that it almost made you block him. When you finalized plans about your study sessions happening the next week, Tom seemed to calm his excessive texting. He was now aware that the two of you needed to get down to business.

True to his word, he brought you an apple that Tuesday afternoon, boasting about how only the best students did such a feat. You tossed it in your backpack, more concerned about getting the study portion done.

The two of you met at the library on the third floor. It was the quietest place in the building, a perfect place for the two of you to study. Rarely did anyone frequent that section so you assumed there wouldn’t be any hindrances. Boy were you wrong.

Despite starting off with high energy, Tom got easily distracted. When you would explain a certain concept, his eyes would wander around to anywhere but the information on the page. He would glance out the window where students ambled about, visibly wishing to be in their shoes instead of stuck inside. Tom’s eyes would glaze out when you repeated yourself that you needed to snap for him to pay attention once more.

You reminded him to focus, tapping the page with your pen. You could only hold his concentration for so long before he would distract himself with something, anything else but learning.

At one point he began dozing off as you rattled through key points that would most likely be on the next quiz. When you looked up, it took you a second to realize what you were currently witnessing.

“A-Are you sleeping right now?” you questioned, confused if he really was sleeping or if that was his studying face.

“Ethics” he murmured out, obviously in a daze. He clearly hoped that if you asked anything, that would be the right answer.

“Oh. My. God” you gritted through your teeth. You slammed the book shut, causing him to jump.

You began packing your bags, over this whole thing. If he didn’t care, why should you?

“I’m sorry!” he apologized repeatedly, wanting to stop you from packing but knowing not to touch you in your heated mood.

“Look-” you huffed, stopping and turning towards him. “If this is gonna work, you have to care. It’s gotta be just as important as basketball.” He made a face clearly indicating that nothing could ever beat his favorite sport. You scowled as you tossed your book into your backpack.

“Stop! Wait!” he pleaded as he took hold of the last book you needed to pack. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just...It’s so boring!”

You eyed your book in his hand, wondering if he would let it go if you yanked it from him. It was a paperback, and you worried that he might hold onto it tightly. If that ripped, you were out fifty dollars. So you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Listen, this is gonna sound harsh. But just drop the class. Obviously you don’t care about it so it shouldn’t be a big deal.” you advised him.

“No, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.” His grip tightened on your book, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay?” He looked so frustrated, slumping in his chair. You could hear him muttering under his breath how you would never understand. Maybe you couldn’t. It always felt that with enough focus and determination you could accomplish anything. The same couldn’t be said for him.

Taking a seat back down, you watched him carefully. This wasn’t the normal overly confident Tom you were used to seeing. This wasn’t the carefree charmer that irked you constantly. It was an unsure boy who struggled to concentrate and understand difficult material.

“Look, you don’t waste any time on the floor during your games, right?” you asked him softly. He responded with a small nod. “Okay. Well then think about studying like that.” He didn’t look up, but you knew he was listening. “You have to give it your all when you’re here with me. You only have a certain amount of time to get everything done, and you can’t waste it spacing out. Every second counts, Tom. If you waste it, you don’t get that time back.” He nodded again, this time finally looking up at you.

“That was a cool reference.”

You shrugged, acting as if it wasn’t a big deal. But you wondered if that’s all you needed to do to get into this kid’s head.

Despite not knowing much about basketball, you attempted for the remaining time to break down theories and founders that he might understand.

“So Plato’s kinda like Kobe?” he suggested. You didn’t know, but he seemed excited about the possibility. So you shrugged your shoulders and said sure.

“Ko-be!” he hollered, cupping his mouth to project his call throughout the library. You slapped your hand over his mouth, hoping that no one would shush the two of you or kick you out.

“You can’t yell in a library” you hissed.

“Oh, right” he replied muffled through your hand.

It wasn’t a great session, but as you explained things to him he actually paid attention. You watched as he took notes, sometimes tapping his notebook indicating for him to highlight key points. It was interesting watching him concentrate, trying his best to understand the material.

By the time the two hours you set up were over, you were mildly impressed. You weren’t sure if he would retain the information, but at least he was trying.

Both of you packed up your bags and headed out of the library. As he pushed open the door -  letting you exit first before letting it close on its own - you stopped at the entrance. You told him how he was making good progress and he beamed.  

“Well, see you on Thursday then.” You fixed your backpack strap on your shoulder before shoving your hands into your pockets.

“See you tomorrow!” he called out, waving at you as he headed off. You stared at him curiously, unsure if he understood how time worked. There were only two scheduled study sessions: one on Tuesday and the other on Thursday. Did he forget that the next day would be Wednesday? You sighed, assuming his spaciness got the best of him.

Except when you returned to your dorm after classes the next day, Tom was leaning on your dorm room door. He texted as he hummed to himself, tapping his foot to a certain rhythm. Hearing your footsteps, his head popped up from his phone and he smiled wide.

“Oh, good! You’re here!” he chirped as he tucked his phone away. “You ready?”

“We-We’re not studying today?”

He chuckled, tossing an arm over your shoulder. “‘Course we are” he insisted. “We’re studying Luke.”

You didn’t like the way he phrased that, shrugging his arm off you. When you questioned what he meant, he just rolled his eyes and informed you to follow him.

The two of you headed to the quad, spotting Luke sitting at one of the tables by himself. Once Tom spotted him, he pulled you behind some bushes and peered over the hedges.

“This is sketchy” you pointed out. Rather than debate you on this, he just shushed you and waved you to do the same.

“Okay, what do you see?” Tom asked. You looked at him suspiciously, unsure of where he was going with this. “Don’t look at me. Look at him. Tell me what you see.” It was rare for Tom to be this serious, instructing you to focus. Turning back to Luke, you squinted looking for certain details.

“Well, he’s wearing that greyish blue shirt that really brings out his eyes” you commented, unaware that you were slipping into a dreamy daze. “He didn’t gel his hair today which is surprising because he almost always-”

Tom slapped his forehead listening to you ramble off superficial details about your crush.

“No, Supposedly Smarty-Pants” he shook his head. “I’m talking about what you actually see. What is Luke doing?”

“He’s drinking coffee?” you suggested. Was Tom seeing something you weren’t?

“Yes, but you’re not…” he paused to rub his temples, irritation building up in him. “Y/N, you’re not actually paying attention.”

“What am I supposed to be seeing then?” you snapped, hands resting on your waist.

“Can you tell me what brand of coffee he’s drinking?” You shrugged. “Can you tell me what he’s writing?” Another shrug. Tom shook his head once more, sighing exasperatedly. You weren’t sure where he got the nerve to act so high and mighty, and you were one step away from smacking the daylights out of him.  

“Y/N, you have to pay attention.” That was rich coming from him. “Luke isn’t drinking Starbucks” he stated as if this was a monumental game changer.

“So?”

“So that means that he’s not into the generical crap.” You chose not to correct him, letting him continue. “The Starbucks on our campus is literally down two dorm buildings from here, but Luke decided to go to The Java Lava. That means the dude decided he’d rather go to some local joint off campus with better tasting drip than the more convenient places.

“And he’s not just writing, Y/N. He’s like, focus writing.” You raised an eyebrow, confused by what he meant. Tom rolled his eyes, persisting in his spiel. “That means whatever he’s writing is probably something important.

“This could go one of two ways, Y/N. Either he’s just happening to work hard on something he really likes or he’s working hard on something that’s boring as hell and doesn’t wanna do.”

Tom turns back to the sandy blond, still scribbling in his notebook furiously. “From the looks of things, it’s choice number two” he surmised.

You couldn’t help but gaze in astonishment at Tom. For someone who had idiotic tendencies, he was a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. He pinpointed certain details about Luke you never would’ve noticed.

Maybe Tom didn’t realize it himself, but his observation skills were amazing. You assumed that’s how he got those girls into bed, picking out specific details to make them feel special and important. You wondered if there was a way to get him to apply it with studying.

“So now’s the perfect opportunity to strike. Let’s go say hi” he announced as he stood up, confident smile gleaming.

“Wait, what?”

There was no time to argue because the next thing you knew, Tom grabbed your wrist and yanked you towards your crush. You were freaking out, trying to figure out how to simultaneously murder Tom while also not doing it where Luke could see. Despite repeatedly sputtering “no”s and “bad idea”s, Tom was stronger and didn’t care about your terrified protests.

“You have to practice” he stressed, yanking your arm as your dug your heels into the ground.

“Oh, hey!” Tom called out casually as he paused in front of the blond. Luke looked up, hair messily covering his eyes. It was such a good look that you wished you could take a photo. “You’re uh-” he paused, snapping his fingers as if he was trying to remember.

“It’s Luke” the other boy replied, smiling politely.

“Right! God, I am so sorry about that. My bad, dude” Tom apologized, shaking his head. “We actually went to Kyle Donahue’s cabin winter break. I mean, there were a lot of people there but I’m pretty sure we met.”

“Did we?”

“Yeah, played beer pong against you and Mitchell Wissou. Crushed you guys” Tom laughed. Luke rolled his eyes playfully, clearly finding this all in good jest.

“So what’s up, man? Can’t be as bad as Lennon when he slipped and fell on the slope” Tom slid into one of the opening seats. Luke reminisced about that winter break, joking with Tom about someone getting slushied while you stood stiffly watching their conversation.

Tom was waiting for you to take a seat, but you were frozen in your spot. Even with mild irritation in his eyes, he forced a smile onto his face. “Hey, have you met Y/N?” He gestured with his head for you to take a seat.

You waved your hand, indicating you were fine to stand.

“Oh, yeah. I think I’ve seen you around” Luke recalled. Either he genuinely didn’t remember your fall, or he was being polite. It didn’t matter; you were just grateful he didn’t bring it up. “You can take a seat” he offered. So you pulled the chair out and sat down, legs pressed together tightly with your hands on your knees. Your tension was obvious, but Tom was determined to make you look good.

“Y’know, Y/N’s been helping me with our ethics course. Guess she’s been so busy studying that she sometimes forgets to go out” he joked.

“Well, you guys are welcome to come to Devin McNamara’s party on Friday if you want. The more, the merrier” Luke suggested.

“We might swing by” Tom shrugged, nudging you with his knee underneath the table so Luke couldn’t see. Definitely progress.

Tom began making small talk with Luke, asking about certain details that you didn’t even know. Apparently Luke was an amazing snowboarder who had two dogs which he loved dearly. When he spoke about them fondly, Tom encouraged Luke to show you photos of them. You couldn’t help but awe looking at the cute golden retrievers.

It wasn’t just that Tom helped you figure out new facts about Luke, but he was actually bringing you into the discussion. He would slip you into the conversation at certain points, all somehow making it seem natural and effortless.

Before you knew it, you were finally relaxing and joining in on the conversation; it was as if you all were good friends.

You were caught off guard when Tom checked his phone and gasped. “Ah, shoot! I forgot I have class right now.” You stared at him quizzically. Why did he try to wingman for you when he had class around the same time?

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” He pushed out of his chair and waved, rushing off towards one of the lecture halls.

And then it was just you and Luke. The nerves were starting to come back again until you remembered what Tom went over with you earlier. You asked Luke what he was working on, both out of curiosity and to see if this would carry the conversation.

He sighed, telling you how he was taking a political science course which was absolutely killing him.

“Oh, I think I took that course last year” you noted, scooting over to look at his notes. Sure enough, you had taken that class and passed with flying colors. It had been difficult - not nearly as difficult as the ethics course - but you managed to figure it out. “I can help you if you want?” you nervously offered.

“Really? That’d be awesome of you!” he grinned. And for the first time, Luke was actually paying attention to you. The two of you spoke for a little longer just enjoying trivial discussions. He only stopped when his phone beeped.

Luke apologized, letting you know he needed to head off to class. Ripping out a piece of paper, he handed it to you along with a pen. “You mind giving me your number so I can text you about studying?” Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as you scribbled your name and phone number for him.

Throwing his backpack over his back, he gave you a final wave before heading off. Giddiness filled your body, excited by the possibility of him texting you soon.

“See, I told you it would work!”

You yelped, jumping slightly upon hearing Tom’s voice. He slid into an empty seat looking at you excitedly.

“I thought you had class, Tom!” He burst into laughter.

“Nah, man. I just said that to give you one on one time with him.” This news startled you a bit. It turned out that Tom was more strategic and a better wingman than you ever could’ve imagined.

“You did such a good job!” he praised you, slapping his hand on your shoulder and lightly squeezing it in support.

“Thanks.” You couldn’t help but give a small grin. After all, none of this would’ve been possible without his expertise.

“Your welcome. I mean, you gotta work on loosening up. Cause you are like, super uptight and terrified and stuff. But this is a really good start!” You blushed, somewhat proud of the work you accomplished. “Starting to trust me now, right?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes and laughed.

“Maybe a little bit, Holland.” You held up your fingers, showing how you only trusted him a smidge.

“I’ll take it. We gotta go back to your place to figure out what we’re gonna do for Devin’s party.”

So as Tom threw his arm over your shoulder, you let him as the two of you walked back to your dorm. Turns out Tom might be more useful than you originally presumed.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz | @almostrosadiazz, @tomshufflepuff | @acceptance07, @blurryshit, @hollands99, @josierosie, @littlestyles, @lumineshawn, @mystxrieux, @nedthegay, @popculturetrash15, @redheadedicequeen

[subasekabang]

Long Dream –Live Remix– (B Side)

Title: Long Dream –Live Remix– (B Side)

Rating: T

Word Count: 7598 total, 3840 this chapter

Characters: Coco, Joshua, Neku, Beat, OMC, OFC

Warnings: Major character death

Summary: Her Magnum Opus nears completion, and as her audience approaches, she hurriedly arranges one final rehearsal.  Elaboration on a pet theory of mine, built out of Final Remix spoilers.

Feel the people, hear the voices

They are reaching out to catch you

Feel the rhythms, hear the noises

You are beating all the visions

***

Shinjuku’s Room of Reckoning, the seat of power for its reigning Composer, was the only place in the entire city that Coco absolutely hated.  Despite being a space set aside specifically for her, she was required to keep the room exactly the way it had always been: a throwback to the Shinto roots of the city, with a gate of red wood over the entrance, two fox statues standing guard just beyond that, braided ropes and paper charms decorating every wall, and a large patch of white sand centered around a single flat stone under a narrow skylight.  Coco sat cross-legged on a cushion on that stone, rapidly tapping her fingers as she regarded her surroundings.

“This place and I have, like, the exact opposite energy.”

It wasn’t much longer until she heard footsteps.  Through the gate walked a woman who looked to be in her thirties, with slightly pale skin and straight black hair tied into a bun, wearing a simple shrine maiden uniform.  She knelt at the edge of the sand and bowed.  Coco fought back an urge to grimace, and was mostly successful.

“Sit up, Atsuko Watanabe,” Coco said in a half-assed formal tone.  “We have, like, much to discuss.”

Straightening her back, Watanabe said, “You honor me with your presence, Composer.  How may your humble servant carry out your will?”

Coco shifted in her seat.  Even now, she still wasn’t entirely sure how to begin.  “Well, uh…we got a thing we need to do…and this thing is, like, about Shinjuku’s future and stuff, so, um…”

A smile slowly crossed Watanabe’s face.  Her eyes twinkled as she asked, “Do you mean a Game?  Are we finally going to hold another Game?”

“Uuuuuh that was the plan, but—“

Watanabe brought her hands together.  “Wonderful!  It’s been so long since we’ve held a Game, we’ve built up such a stable of Players we need to test!”

“H-Hey, hold up gurl…” Coco said, reaching out reluctantly.

“I have already selected a Game Master I believe would be ideal, they need only your approval and we can begin immediately.  Of course, this is but a humble suggestion, my lady: we shall proceed in whatever way you deem best.  Oh, this is so exciting!  I can hardly wait!”  Watanabe closed her eyes and giggled, trying to sit still but bouncing just a bit.  Coco scratched her head as a wave of intense guilt washed over her.

“Big yikes…” she said.  “Um, Watanabe—“

“Yes, my lady?”

“I was saying, like, I was going to hold a Game, but…unfortunately, um, planz have changed.”

Coco could see the enthusiasm drain out of Watanabe.  In mere seconds, her cheery demeanor was entirely gone, leaving her with nothing but a hollow, dejected expression that made her look ten years older.  “…Oh.  I see.”

“Listen, I’m sorry it be like that.  Like, I know you really want a Game, and we’ll have one soon, I totez promise!  v soon.  But first, we got something else super urgent we need to deal with—it literally can’t wait, which is the only reason why I’m putting off the Game.”

Watanabe just stared down at the sand in silence.

Hesitantly, Coco asked, “…Um, Watanabe?  u good?”

“Composer…” Watanabe said quietly.  “Forgive me, but…I believe my patience has reached its limit.”

“Watanabe, listen up, this—“

“Years.  It has been years since the last time a Game was held in Shinjuku!  The Reapers need points to survive, my lady, and several of the rank and file are nearly out!  They are in very real danger of fading away forever!  And as if that weren’t bad enough, this…this entire situation could have so easily been avoided!”

Feeling just a little annoyed, Coco leaned forward and said, “I already told you, like, we’ll have one soon, nbd.”

“It’s a very big deal!” Watanabe shouted.  “At this point your men are so desperate that when we do hold a Game, the competition amongst them will be atrocious!  They won’t know when to expect another chance to earn points, so they’ll collect as many as they possibly can, hoarding them all for themselves, leaving few to none for the inexperienced to survive on!  We may have garnered an exorbitant amount of Players, but at this point I fear it still won’t be enough to go around!  And now you’re saying we need to wait even longer?!”

“Chill, fam!  You’re totez getting WAY ahead of yourself!”

“I have to think that far ahead, because you won’t spare so much as a single thought for your duties!”

Coco’s eyes widened, her veins freezing over.  “W…what did you just say about me?”

Watanabe stood up, aiming a sad glare at Coco.  “I’ve been running the UG on my own this entire time, because you won’t take your duties seriously.  You are meant to judge the worth of humanity, to learn what is necessary to guide them and us to a better future.  Does that simply not matter to you, Composer?”

Coco could hardly believe what she was hearing.  Standing, she said, “Like, of course it matters to me?  I heckin love Shinjuku!  Everything that I do is for the benefit of this city!  You sayin you for realz don’t know that, Watanabe?”

“It is hard for me to believe that, my lady.  You’ve excused yourself from your work for ages, and during all this time I’ve barely heard even a word from you!  Frankly…I feel I have no evidence to suggest that you truly care for this city, nor that you will ever behave responsibly in regards to your duty regarding it.”

“That’s a hot load of…”  Coco stopped, putting a hand to her forehead with a short huff.  “…Whatevs.  You don’t know what I’ve been doing, I never told you, so I guess I can’t totally blame you for thinking that.  But like, the reason I asked you here was cuz I’m gonna tell you what I’ve been doing, and what comes next in my keikaku.”

Watanabe waited expectantly.  Coco took a deep breath, hoping she would be able to find the words she needed.

“So tbh…I’ve been working on a Noise.  A super duper powerful Noise called a ‘Magnum Opus’, which contains, like, its own plane of existence inside of it.  I gotta strengthen it, and because it’s so complex, it’s taken a long time to get that done.  Like, a loooong time.  But it’s totez gonna be worth it!”

Watanabe furrowed her brow.  “This whole time, you’ve been making a Noise?  A single Noise?  What made you think such a thing was necessary?”

“Well…I had a vision,” Coco said.

“A vision?”

“Yeah!  I saw Shinjuku get entirely wiped out, so like, obv I had to do everything I could to stop that from happening!”

“…I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Well the…the way it happened…”  Coco’s words ground to a halt.  She couldn’t explain an Inversion without explaining the Inferno, and she couldn’t explain the Inferno without explaining the Higher Plane, and that was something she had been strictly forbidden from revealing to her subordinates.  “Um…see, the guyz who did Teh Thing were, like, suuuuper powerful.  I knew I was totez gonna need a heavy hitter to take ‘em down!  So, Magnum Opus Noise!”

Watanabe took a few seconds to reflect on this explanation, finally saying, “I suppose that makes some sense.”

“Great!  Glad we’re, like, on the same page!”

“Wait a moment, my lady, I still have questions.  I have never heard of this Magnum Opus Noise—where did you learn of it?”

“It’s, uh, top secret Composer stuff.  Sorry, can’t share those deetz.”

“Alright then.  In that case, did your vision also come from your Composer powers?”

Coco shook her head.  “Nah…my Composer-ness does give me sum omniscience and stuff, but this was different.  Normal Composer Vision is, like, whambalam, and KABAM, yeah, that seems right, I can feel it in my kokoro.  But this vision was totez creepy af, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Watanabe paused a moment.  “My lady…if you’ve never seen anything like this vision, then why are you so sure it is reliable?”

Coco blinked.  “…Um…”

Watanabe stepped forward.  “If this has nothing to do with your Composer abilities, then what guarantee is there that these events will come to pass?  Why would you be so certain of it that you would give up everything else just to prepare for something that may never occur?”

“It…well…”  Coco looked down, her cheeks starting to burn as she fumbled for a response.  She raised her fist towards her chin and turned slightly.  “Something about it, just…terrified me, Watanabe.  I’ve never felt horror like that, so…I mean, I had to do something.”

Watanabe took another step.  “And merely because it scared you, you abandoned all of us?!”

Coco backed up to the edge of her stone.  Watanabe lowered her gaze, realizing that her foot had landed on the sand.  Turning abruptly, she covered her face with her hand and sighed, while Coco just stared at her back.

“…Watanabe…please,” she said.  “I need your help to keep Shinjuku safe.  Can I count on you?”

Watanabe looked over her shoulder.  “…I am sorry, Composer.  But I do not believe in this cause of yours.  Go and do what you must…but in the meantime, I am going to see to my duties and conduct a Game.  Shinjuku cannot be asked to wait for us any longer.”

Coco lowered her arm.  Trying as hard as she could to smile, she said, “Understandable, have a nice day.”

Watanabe walked out.  Coco dropped down and pulled her hood over her eyes, shutting them tight to keep her tears from falling.  When she eventually opened them again, the room was much darker—something had covered up the skylight, she realized.  It was then she noticed Rōjin standing at the edge of the sand.

“…Like, I knew she was gonna be annoyed,” Coco said, “but I didn’t think she’d get so pissed off.  tbh I wasn’t prepared to see her like that.  I’m…kinda shook.”

She let out a ragged sigh.

“I legit wanted her help.  If I can’t count on Watanabe, then like, none of my Officers are gonna help.  Now Tapez and I are probs gonna have to fight the Inferno on our own.”

Hopefully, she glanced up at Rōjin.  He shook his head.

“…Right.  Your hands are still tied, I guess.  The Higher Plane won’t do anything until it’s already too late.  But damn Kiryu and his Producer get off totally clean after trying to sink their city…but, that’s none of my business.”

She got to her feet and looked her Producer in the eye.

“Rōjin…I totez appreciate all you’ve done for me.  You’ve been a real bro, taking me srsly and helping out however you can.  I know I sorta take you for granted, but like, I really am gr8ful for everything.  Just wanna let u know.”

Rōjin nodded.  Coco glanced at the sand hesitantly, and then shrugged, walking right across it.

“Guess I’ll just go back to what I was doing.  If you can, plz keep an eye out while Watanabe runs her Game—I don’t know fo sho how much time we got until the Inferno makes a move.”

As she approached, Rōjin held on arm out to stop her.  She faced him with a confused expression.

“I will advocate for you,” the Producer said.

“…wat?” Coco said.  “Wait, you mean right now, you’re going up?”

Rōjin nodded.

“I…I mean thnx, that’s really generous, but u sure?  They’re getting the Game they asked 4, that should make them happy, yeah?”

“A Game run by the Conductor.  They will demand an explanation.  Anticipating this will look better, and allow me a chance to sway them.”

Coco stepped towards him.  “Rōjin, don’t put a target on your back!  The Higher Plane has, like, already been clear about how they want to deal with the Inferno, there’s no way we’re gonna be able to change that.  Even if we tell em Shinjuku will be wiped out if they don’t do sumthin, they’re totez just gonna say ‘then perish’.  I can handle this!  I mean, I know I was just lowkey freaking out, but real talk, I can—“

Rōjin turned and began to leave.

“Hey, hold up!”

He paused.  Coco fidgeted.

“…I just…I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.  Like, I know I’m a crappy Composer, and I’ve already caused you nothing but grief with the crew upstairs.  If you push em any further…”

Rōjin faced her, and to Coco’s surprise, he was smiling.  “Don’t be afraid.”

Coco couldn’t think of a reply.  Rōjin turned back around and went through the gate, leaving Coco alone.  It took some time, but eventually she was able to calm down.

Tapez’s next meal might be the last one he gets before the baddle beginz.  I need to, like, figure out how to make his power maximum with just one more boost.

Slowly, she turned her head.

…The OG strat was that, at the last second, I’d go for that pair.  And like, they’d totez gimme dat boost.  But now that Kiryu’s onto me, and it’s obv just how, uh, strained my relationship with the Higher Plane is…not convinced that’s the best play I can make rn.

Coco paced across the room as she weighed her options.  As she did, she began to feel a sharp pain in her head, and her entire body tensed.

A…again?

The pain began to spread.

No, no not another one, not already, not now!

Her vision went out all at once.  When it returned, she was looking through that same unsettling filter, only now she saw not Shinjuku, but Shibuya.  She saw Neku, the boy slowly falling over as his body went limp and lifeless.  And in front of him, she saw Joshua, pointing a gun at him with a look of malice as an unfamiliar voice echoed in her mind.

“Hello?  Is anybody there?”

The Room of Reckoning came back, and it was perhaps the only time in her life Coco had ever been glad to see it.  She clutched her head tightly in both hands, staring wide-eyed at the floor, and worked to decipher what she had just seen.

“This one…was different…Kiryu shot him?  Why would he do that?  I mean, he did it before…is this from the past?  Or is he going to do it again?”

Coco thought back to her last conversation with Shibuya’s Composer.  She remembered his parting threat.

“…Would he really…kill Neku…just to stop me from using him?”

She couldn’t know for sure.  But, it wasn’t something she would put past him.  And assuming this latest vision wasn’t a look back into the past, that meant the Neku of the world she lived in might only be around for a limited time.

“If I dun act now, I might miss my chance.”

She weighed her options again, but this information was more than enough to tilt the scales.  Clenching her fists, Coco glared in the direction of Shibuya.

“I gotta do it to ‘em.  I ain’t afraid of Kiryu!  He can try whatev he wants, but I’m totez gonna come out on top!  After this, Tapez will be unbeatable!”

***

In this long dream, can you find me?

Want you to call my name

In this hazard, chance of survival?

I need to be with you

***

Coco stood alone on the empty streets of Shinjuku.  One hand was pressed firmly against her bleeding shoulder, and the other was clamped tight around a pin emblazoned with a symbol resembling the Dissonance Tapir’s eye.  She stood there, shaking, trying her best to cling onto her composure, but it was too much for her.  Coco threw her head back and wailed into the sky.

She had sought out Neku and Beat, drawn them into the pseudo-parallel world contained within the tapir, and done her best to coax them into making their way to the outskirts of “Shibuya”.  She was almost successful.  However, Shibuya’s Producer had interfered, using some unknown technique to take control of the replica of himself within her illusion and informing the Players of where they really were.  With the easy way no longer an option, Coco had ordered the tapir to attack, but somehow, they had found a way to erase it.

Dropping to her knees, Coco cradled the pin in both hands, barely able to see it through the tears pouring from her eyes.  As she was, she didn’t even have the strength to summon the tapir from it.  Her Magnum Opus was in there, she could sense its consciousness, but it was incredibly faint.

“Dammit…damn you, Kiryu…”

In her panic upon losing the tapir, Coco had ended up shooting Neku, but Joshua had appeared and wounded her as she retreated.  She had been just on the border of Shinjuku when the Inversion occurred.  And despite all her preparations, all her determination, Coco could do nothing but watch as her entire city vanished right before her eyes.

“Why Shinjuku?  Of all the UGs, why mine?!  Why…why…”

Not a single person remained on the once-bustling roads.  The tapir was out of commission, Watanabe was likely erased, and Rōjin wasn’t returning her calls.  Coco was alone with nothing to fight for, much less anything to fight with.

“…No…”

She punched the pavement.  With teeth clenched, she glared upward.

“If Shinjuku’s gone…then I’m gonna make the Inferno pay for taking it!  I’ll play their stupid Game, and I’ll win—whatever it takes!”

Taking one last look at the pin, she carefully placed it in her pocket.  She ripped off the end of her sleeve and wrapped it around her wound, and after making sure it was tight enough, she got to her feet and wiped her tears.

“Guess that puts me at square one.  Tapez can still make some contributions, but I’m not gonna have time to beef him up like I did before.  So I’mma need a new heavy hitter…”

Coco gazed at Shibuya once more.

“He’s totez not gonna want to help me…but like, he’s not getting a choice!”

***

Feel the people, hear the voices

They are reaching out to catch you

Feel the rhythms, hear the noises

You are beating all the visions

***

“…How fortunate she managed to escape erasure.”

Coco kept her eyes down as she walked.  She adjusted her hood, keeping the pin hooked to the inside of it next to her ear.

“Clearly she’s something special,” she heard Hanekoma say.  “And let’s not forget our little Reaper friend.  We’ve got some crazy cats headed our way.”

“Which makes this the calm before the storm.”  Coco scowled at Joshua’s voice.  “There’s no telling what will become of Shibuya…but I suppose that’s THEIR problem now, not ours.”

She rolled her eyes, mumbling, “That’s, like, exactly what I’d expect from you.”

“What about Neku?”

Coco stopped mid-step.

“He served his purpose,” Joshua said, “but I don’t need him anymore.”

She pulled out the pin, saying, “Hmph.  Speak for yourself, nerd.  The Game, like, literally can’t go on without Neku…like, maybe you don’t need him, but I totez do!”

At this point, he was her best bet.  If Neku, with help, was able to defeat the Dissonance Tapir after all the work she had put into it, then that made him the deadliest weapon available to her.  She had hoped Joshua would put him into play, but that was a problem she could easily circumvent.  However, that wasn’t the only problem this new plan faced.  Coco eyed the alleyway just ahead.

“If he’s, like, even gonna stand a chance…he’s totez gonna need a zetta strong partner!”

She entered the alleyway to find an elaborate pattern painted onto the sidewalk.  Immediately, she recognized it as a Taboo Noise refinery sigil.  For just a moment, Coco hesitated, wondering if this was really the person she wanted to recruit.  She couldn’t help but be curious about the girl from the vision—the one who supposedly escaped the Inversion unharmed—but she wasn’t sure exactly where she was, or if she could fight.  Coco had to make the most of what was available to her.  She had accepted that.

“If those goons are so thirsty for a fight…” Coco said, reaching out with both hands.  “Then they can, like, come here and get rekt like the noobs they are!”

She activated the sigil.  It lit up with bright light, but only for a few seconds before going out in a brilliant flash.  Coco waved away the smell of smoke as she gazed upon the man who now sat at the center of the design.

He had a mess of medium dark hair, and brown skin that turned to the pitch black shade of Taboo Noise over his hands and forearms, with an intricate emblem decorating his torso.  The black shirt and jeans he wore were badly torn, but the silver on his necklace and belt buckle gleamed as if brand new.  Slowly, he rose to his feet.  He looked down at himself and smirked in approval.

“Seems somebody forgot to carry the one,” he said.  “Not that I’m complaining!  They say the third time’s the charm, and I’ve always had a soft spot for cubic roots!”

Coco watched as he just threw his arms apart and laughed.  The power he possessed was incredible, nearly overwhelming her senses as she tried to gauge it.  Finally, he turned to her, and she snapped out of her trance.

“So tell me…how exactly do you factor into this equation?”

“…I just, like, need to know one (1) thing,” Coco asked.  “How’d you like to take down someone even stronger than a Composer?”

The man leaned in close.  “Hm…easier in theory than in practice.”

“Tru…but I have a plan that will totez make it possible tho.”

“Hah!  And what proof validates that operation?”

Pointing down, Coco said, “Like, I brought you back, yeah?  How many people can do that?  Doesn’t that get your attention?”

He looked at the sigil, then back to Coco.  Backing up a bit, he said, “Huh…you did this all with a single variable?  That’s worth adjusting an estimation for…”

“So like, whaddaya say, bro Minamimoto?  Come hear me out.  I totez promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Minamimoto thought for a moment.  Then, with a chuckle, he said, “It’d be zetta dumb to cancel out a set like that.  Tell you want, decimal point: I’ll see where this line you’ve plotted goes.  Just make sure the solution is as good as you’ve promised!”

Coco grinned.  Turning aside for the moment, she rubbed the Tapir pin in her pocket, and said to herself, “There’s, like, no way we’re gonna lose!”

***

Is it angels?  Is it devils?

Whispering in my ears

Is it emotions?  Is it illusions?

I need to be with you

[luckyspike]

Adventures in America, Ch. 3 - in which Adam meets his traveling companions and Crowley and Aziraphale meet their rental car

This story is so dumb and I love it. For prior installments, check out chapter 1, and chapter 2. Or just peruse my fanfiction tag (which has a lot of other stuff in it, too!).

-

Touchdown. BA flight 191, after an uneventful flight, touched down in Austin International Airport at 4:17pm. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to, uh, Austin,” the pilot announced over the intercom. Adam, who had nodded off for the latter half of the flight, was looking out of the window eagerly, hands on his knees and feet bouncing. All the excitement, the nerves, the sheer joy that this was really happening that he’d had when he boarded, and then lost when he’d gotten bored, came roaring back tenfold as the brown scenery slid by outside. “Local time is 4:18pm, and outside temperature is about 84 degrees, which is about 29 centigrade. We’ll be arriving at gate -” Adam zoned out. Outside of the airplane, ground crew directed the jet to the gate in question, but it didn’t matter, not to Adam. He wouldn’t be meeting anybody at the gate, anyway. 

He turned his phone back on, and sent a quick text to his parents, and then another to the group text that included the Them and Anathema. He paused, debating whether or not to also text Crowley or Aziraphale, but he paused. Hopefully the international plan he’d paid for was as good as it seemed, and his dad wouldn’t give him an earful about international rates when he got home, but, well, maybe just in case … certainly they’d hear through the grapevine, anyway. He stuffed the phone into his bag instead, and pulled out the slip of paper he’d written the instructions for meeting up with the storm chasing team instead. Meet at the baggage claim. Right, easy enough. He had to pick up his duffel bag anyway.

Disembarking the plane took, in Adam’s opinion, ages. They let all the posh people in first class off first, and then business class, and finally economy. He held his backpack straps tightly, shuffling down the aisle in the line, and tried to look calm and cool, not like a kid on Christmas morning, in spite of the excitement bubbling inside of him. He’d be looking for a woman, Rachael, who was tall and tanned and dark-haired. They’d video-chatted extensively in the lead-up to the excursion, and he was fairly certain he would recognize her on sight. Still, she’d said she’d be holding a sign, too, so best to look out for that - 

He paused, halfway through first class. Sniffed. Something smelled of … sulfur. Sulfur? And a rainstorm. It reminded him of Aziraphale and Crowley’s place, and the memory jarred him enough that he looked around for the duo, blue eyes scanning the rows of first-class seats. He didn’t see them, of course, or any signs of them, although he wasn’t sure what that might have entailed. Still … Nah. He shook his head, and kept shuffling. They’d told him to have a good time. They wouldn’t have managed to keep anything secret like this, not those two. For godfath - no, guardian ang - well, not really … guardian supernatural entities, they weren’t particularly subtle and as a unit, Adam thought fondly, only slightly brighter than they were individually. Which wasn’t saying much*.

The air on the jetway was dry, and hot, and reminiscent of Madrid, the few times Adam had been there to visit his sister. He took a deep breath, grateful to finally be off the plane and back on terra firma, and hustled toward baggage claim and customs. He found his duffel, and made it through customs - it wasn’t any trouble, just a line which Adam managed to tolerate by looking around and taking in the sights of the airport which had, through creative architecture, attempted to resemble a modern art installation but instead mostly looked like a government building with a bit of window dressing. 

“Enjoy your vacation,” the woman at the customs desk drawled, with an accent Adam had previously only heard in movies. His heart skipped a beat, and he beamed. 

“I will do, thank you so much.”

And that was it. He was in! He didn’t skip through the exit from customs, although it was a near thing, and quickly started looking around at the assembled crowd, scanning the faces there for anyone that looked familiar or, failing that, a sign that said ‘Adam Young’. He found it, eventually, held by Rachael, just as she’d looked on video chat, herself looking among the faces of arriving travelers for Adam. She caught sight of him as he started toward her, boots still squeaking on the linoleum, and waved him over, her face breaking into a friendly grin. “Adam!” She seized his hand as soon as he offered it, and shook with bone-crushing strength and no small amount of enthusiasm. “Hey, welcome to Texas! So good to finally meet you!” She had an accent too, Adam realized, sort of southern but not like the woman at customs, just a hint of that. He’d have to find out where she was from.

“Great to be here,” he enthused, and he meant every word of it. “I’m so excited, this is really an amazing opportunity.”

“Glad to hear it!” she laughed. “Hopefully we can find you some storms, huh?” She looked over his bag, eyebrows raised. “You got everything? Need anything else here? The rest of the crew is waiting outside - the other student researcher got here this morning, so we just been hanging out around the city while we waited.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m totally ready.”

She nodded, satisfied, and headed for the door, Adam tagging along at her shoulder. “Great. The truck’s parked in the will-call lot, let me just call Noel and he can pull around. Let’s wait inside, though -” she held out a hand to stop Adam before he stepped through the sliding doors. “Kinda warm out there. Definitely warmer than England, huh?” She grinned, and then Adam heard a tinny voice on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, hey, I got Adam, can you bring the truck around? Thanks.” She hung up, and stuffed her phone into her jeans pocket before she propped her hands on her hips. “So I’ll introduce you all when they get here, but basically it’s gonna be four of us. You know me, I’m the climatologist and I guess the main guide, but Noel helps a lot. He’s our meteorologist, driver, and photographer too, but since it’s just the two of us we both kinda wear all kinda hats.” She pointed to Adam. “You’re one of our student researchers, and we have another guy with us for this session. Hope you don’t mind if we put you to work.”

Adam laughed. “It’s what I signed up for!”

“More fun that way, anyway.” She sighed, happy, as she watched a variety of vehicles drive by outside, picking up travelers as they did. “Better than those storm tours that just drive around lookin’ and not much else. We gotta get closer to get the data. Anyway, other guy that’s with us goes by Lucky, I’ll let him introduce himself, but he’s studying climatology at, uh … somewhere in Iowa, I think. I think you guys are the same age.” She waved a hand. “Whatever, I’ll let you guys hash it out, we’re gonna have plenty of time in the car.”

“Sounds good.” Adam nodded, and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. 

“Anyway,” she went on, “plan tonight is to take you guys out to dinner, kind of get to know each other and everything, go over the plan for chasing, yadda yadda, and then we’re gonna hit the road early tomorrow to get north.” Her eyes widened, and she gestured for Adam to follow her outside. “There’s Noel. Anyway, yeah, we’re heading north -” she strolled off the curb and into the lane of traffic without much concern for oncoming cars. Adam, well-accustomed to this after years of interactions with Crowley, followed her without concern. “- ‘cause there’s a big system forming around the Oklahoma panhandle, and we might see some action day one.” She wagged her eyebrows at him. “Start off with a bang, right?”

“That’d be wicked.”

She chuckled. “Wicked, huh? I like that. Here’s the boss!” she called, as they pulled up alongside a red pick-up truck. Adam’s eyes widened. Americans, he thought, really knew how to do pick-up trucks. He’d seen pick-up trucks in England, of course, but this monster dwarfed most of them. The extended cab and the bed cover just served to make it look bigger. And it wasn’t the only one of that size parked at the curb - he could count four just in the immediate vicinity.

Well, he had heard things about Texas. 

“Hey!” a man called over the roaring engine, and Adam looked up to see the driver standing on the sideboard, clutching the luggage rack with one hand and waving with the other. “I’m Noel! You can throw your bag in the back, Rach’ll show you where to put it with all the equipment.” He grinned. “Gotta get movin’ before we get a ticket.”

Rachael rolled her eyes. “We won’t get a ticket,” she said to Adam, in a tone that probably would have been a whisper had she not had to shout over the commotion of the pick-ups lane. “Here,” she showed him to the back of the truck, dropping the gate and revealing a bed packed full of bags, boxes, and expensive-looking meteorology equipment, “you can put your bag here, next to the camera bags.” He did, and she threw the gate back into place, brushing her hands off and turning her beaming smile to him once again. “You ready to hit it?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, still smiling. He wasn’t sure he’d stopped since he’d gotten off the plane. “Let’s do it.”

She punched him in the shoulder. Adam laughed, and then thought of Pepper. She punched him like that, back home. Man, would she have loved this. She’d have loved Rachael, too. “Love the enthusiasm, kid. Load up!” She climbed into the front passenger seat of the truck, and Adam hauled open the rear passenger door, climbing onto the footboard and sliding into the seat. Across from him, a suntanned boy - yeah, about his age - with a scruffy beard and dark hair pulled into a bun smiled at him with a wave. Adam waved, but then was distracted when Noel stuck his hand into the back to shake Adam’s.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Young.”

“You can call me Adam, really,” he assured Noel. “Thanks for having me.”

“Hey, if you’re willing to work and don’t run off at the first sign of golf-ball sized hail, it’ll be a pleasure,” Noel replied with a laugh. “Alright, let’s get you guys a taste of Texas. Everyone good with barbecue?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, in unison with the other guy in the back seat. Noel nodded, and the truck roared forward, out of the airport. 

“So you’re from England?” the other guy said, turning his attention to Adam and offering his hand to shake. Adam took note, as he shook the guy’s hand, that there was … a hint of a London accent? Just a little? No, couldn’t be. “I grew up around London, ‘til I was about twelve,” he went on. Oh. Yes, then.

“Really? Funny old world,” Adam replied. “Name’s Adam Young. I’m from Tadfield - it’s a little town out in Oxfordshire.”

“Huh. Never got out that way, at least not that I remember.” He looked puzzled. “Although there was an air base there my Dad might’ve been working out of at some point … huh. Anyway.” The guy sat back in his seat and shrugged. “My name’s Warlock Dowling, but please do not call me Warlock.” He rolled his eyes. “I think my mom was hopped up on pain meds when she named me. Everyone calls me Lucky.”

Adam nodded. “Cool, okay. You’re studying climatology?”

“Climate science, yeah,” Lucky answered, eagerly. “You are too, right?”

“Meteorology, yeah.”

“It’s so cool, isn’t it?” He looked out of the window, gesturing to the cityscape passing by as they rolled down the highway. “The whole Earth! Man, when I started learning about weather and geology and stuff in seventh grade, once I came back to the States …” He waved a hand. “Forget it. I used to make weather maps for fun. Drove my parents crazy.”

Adam laughed, genuinely, and nodded. “It’s awesome. I was eleven,” he said, with absolute certainty, because he wouldn’t forget that year for anything, “an’ this lady - she’s a friend, now, but she was new to town then - gave me these magazines that were talking about climate change and severe weather and the rainforests and stuff, an’, I dunno, just had an interest ever since. Studied a lot on my own, outside of school, when we moved on to like, biology and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah.” Lucky nodded. “So you’ve never been to the States before?”

Adam shook his head. “No. I mean, I’m as excited for that as I am for the weather, honestly.”

“Good!” Noel interjected from the front seat. “You’re gonna get a hell of a tour of the midwest, see all kinds of stuff. We’ll go over it at dinner, I think we got a map too, so you can kind of get an idea of where we’ll be. And, you know, if the weather don’t pan out like we hope it will - hopefully it will pan out, but you never know - by the end of the season we should be up by Yellowstone, so we can always show you around up there.” He smiled at the backseat passengers approvingly in the rearview. “I’m from Wyoming myself, so I can give you the local tour.”

Lucky’s eyes widened. “ Seriously? That’d be awesome. I’ve never been, always wanted to go.” He looked to Adam. “You know about Yellowstone? It’s supposed to be amazing.”

“I’ve read about it.” Adam nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’d be cool to see it.”

“Well, we’ll have to see what the weather is doing. You never know how things are gonna go in this business.”

Rachael grinned at them over her shoulder. “That’s what makes it exciting.”

“An’ sometimes real boring,” Noel added.

“Sometimes,” she agreed, with a wink to the students. “But we’re not gonna think about that. You guys are here to study some storms, we’ll get you storms.”

The conversation continued on, through the drive to the barbecue place, and then all through dinner. They went over the route - starting south, around the Oklahoma/Texas border, and then moving north as needed with the storms, likely ending up toward the Canadian border at the end of the season. They talked equipment - cameras and recording equipment, laptops, hot-spots, as well as some remote monitoring equipment that Rachael hoped to drop if there was a great deal of lightning, which was her particular interest. Adam and Lucky listened intently, contributed as needed, and ate so much barbecue throughout the entire thing that Adam felt fairly nauseous by the end of the meal. Judging by Lucky’s expression when they stood from the table, he felt similarly.

“It was just so good,” Adam lamented once back in the truck, his hands over his stomach.

Noel nodded solemnly in the front seat, hanging a right into a motel parking lot. “A common mistake. Sleep it off tonight, we got an early start in the morning.” He parked the truck well away from the door - none of the parking spots, Adam imagined, would have been big enough - and looked into the backseat. “Five AM work for you boys?”

Adam ignored Lucky’s quiet ‘oof’ and nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I’ll be ready.”

“Fantastic.”

- 

Several hours earlier …

“I feel like I’m covered in grime,” Aziraphale griped, as they meandered their way through baggage claim and toward the rental car desks. “Is that normal for air travel?”

“Can’t be, you only just spent ten hours in an aluminum tube with the re-circulated air of a bunch of other people.”

“Touche.” He cracked his neck and frowned. “I need a shower.”

“You know,” Crowley said slyly, handing his shoulder-bag (black, obviously) off to Aziraphale, “had you let me ensure the Bentley would be waiting for us outside we could already be on our way to a nice, lovely hotel room with a hot shower and not waiting in line at a rental car desk.”

Aziraphale huffed. “It’s not a long line.” He caught the look Crowley gave him, and turned his nose up a little. “I’m going to wait by the door. There will be a shuttle, apparently.”

“Marvelous.” 

The angel watched from a distance too far to hear while the demon negotiated with the man at the desk. There were some subtle gestures, a raised eyebrow from Crowley, some significant stammering from the man, and eventually, he handed over an envelope. Crowley smiled and swaggered away from the desk, toward Aziraphale, who watched him suspiciously.

“What was that about?”

“Got us an upgrade.” Crowley took his own bag back*** and led the way to the shuttle, waiting outside in the heat. Aziraphale’s suspicious glare turned to a grimace when they stepped into the pick-up area, fighting back the urge to loosen his bowtie against the humidity and oppressive heat. They were back in the air conditioning of the shuttle soon enough and sat down, side-by-side, Aziraphale with his suitcase between his knees and Crowley with his bag in his lap. 

“What kind of upgrade?” Aziraphale asked pointedly, as the van doors closed - improbably, there were no other passengers to pick up, although Aziraphale suspected there was some infernal interference that led to that state of affairs - and the shuttle rumbled away from the curb. “If we walk into that rental car lot and there’s a vintage Bentley -”

Crowley groaned. “No, angel. If I’d brought the Bentley over I wouldn’t be bothering with this bloody shuttle. I got us a bigger car, is all.” He glanced at the envelope. “Had us in some little economy thing, probably only had a four-cylinder engine and a governor.”

“Don’t all rental cars have a governor?”

“I’d imagine this one’s will be broken.” Crowley gave the angel a cool look, a dare to say anything. Aziraphale didn’t take the bait. “Any case, I told him we needed four-wheel-drive.”

“Do we?” Aziraphale looked surprised.

Crowley shrugged. “Watched a show on telly before we left. They go all over, dirt roads sometimes, figured it’d be smart to have. Plus, it was the only thing with the bigger engine.”

“Does the Bentley have a big engine?”

Crowley shrugged. “Acts like it does.”

“Crowley …” Aziraphale lowered his voice, in case the shuttle driver were listening in, although the young man looked cheerful and blissfully unaware of their conversation. “Please don’t do anything infernal to the rental car.”

“Me?” Crowley looked wounded. “Wouldn’t dream of it. There’s already one semi-sentient demonic car in the world, and it’s currently in a garage terrorizing a wages clerk. That’s more than enough for one planet.”

Aziraphale sat back in his seat, prim, hands folded in his lap. “I agree. Good. Glad we’re in agreement.”

They finished the shuttle ride in silence, Aziraphale looking out of the window to the passing landscape, which was mostly buildings so close to the airport, and Crowley apparently dozing, although it was hard to tell with the sunglasses. Which seemed, Aziraphale thought, as he looked out of the window, to be a fairly wise addition in this kind of weather. He may need to get himself a pair, should the opportunity arise. Not that he needed them, but, well, it wouldn’t hurt to look the part. 

The shuttle lurched to a halt, and they stepped off, Crowley handing the driver a roll of green dollar bills without a word as he went by. “Thank you so much,” Aziraphale added, on his way by, smiling to the stunned driver. “Excellent driving, very pleasant and observant of the speed limit. Have a lovely day.”

“Thanks.” The driver watched them go. What weird people, he thought, his eyes sliding from their receding backs to the roll of money in his hand. Can’t complain, though. He tucked the bills into his pocket, and pulled away, back on his regular route to the airport. He would have a nice day, he thought. Things were already looking brighter.

Aziraphale didn’t ask, ‘is this it?’ as they approached a car. It wouldn’t be. It was green, and small, and he wasn’t sure what kind of upgrade Crowley had managed but he was fairly sure that was not a large enough car. He didn’t ask ‘is this it?’ at the next car, either, but in this case it was because the car was so obviously it.

It was huge, and black, and it looked menacing just sitting in the parking lot. Crowley clicked a button on the key fob - that was novel, Aziraphale thought - and the lights flashed while a chirp sounded. The demon hoisted open the back hatch - Aziraphale blinked at the sheer size of the inside of the thing - and tossed his bag in, followed by the angel’s.

“It’s bigger than the Bentley,” he said, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Crowley grunted, and started toward the right side of the vehicle before, if his annoyed expression were anything to go by, remembering that this was America, and changing direction. Aziraphale closed the back hatch and headed for the passenger side, frowning at the height of the step onto the footboard. No car had any business, he thought vaguely, being this large.

Inside the car already, with the keys in the ignition and the engine running, Crowley was sitting back in the seat, arms crossed, glaring at the stereo. He glanced over when he saw Aziraphale, and for a minute, his expression softened. “Ah, angel, you might want to … uh, wait outside a minute.”

“I thought you said no funny business with the car,” Aziraphale said flatly.

“Nothing funny.” Crowley looked back to the stereo, his expression hardening again. “Just need to reach an … understanding.”

Aziraphale sighed, and unfastened his bowtie, tossing it to Crowley who caught it with practiced ease. “Alright.” He stepped back down, and started unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. “But don’t take too long - it’s hot out here.”

“Only be a minute, angel.” The door shut. Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Hullo,” he said to the car, drawing the word out. “4-runner, eh?”

To this point in its 45,000 miles, the Toyota 4-Runner had never had a single thought. Of course it hadn’t - it was a machine, an inanimate tool of transportation. It had happily transported families, salesmen, concert-goers and, on one occasion, secret agents without a hint of self-awareness or even a tinge of consciousness. This was why the car was surprised to find, suddenly, that this was no longer the case. 

The radio station flickered uncertainly.

“I have a feeling,” the driver went on, while the car considered that it had never recognized a driver before, “that I’m going to be spending entirely more time with you than I’d like to. So just to be clear: I don’t like you, I probably will never like you, and there is very little you can do to that will not, ultimately, disappoint me.” The electronics flickered again. Anxiety, thought the car. What was anxiety? Why did it know that was what it was feeling? “Really, this can only end one of two ways for you: you don’t disappoint me too much, and I return you at the end of this bonkers road trip to your safe rental agency, where they’ll clean you up and you can go on being a nice rental car, or you disappoint me too much and -” he leaned closer to the radio, and the hiss cut through the static of the electronics and silenced the squeal of interference between high-tech electronics and supernatural forces “- I’ll leave you in a ditch in flamesss, sssee if I don’t. Underssstood?”

The engine shuddered. The driver - Crowley, the car thought, although it wasn’t sure how it knew that name, or why it was even thinking about it in the first place - sat back and breathed out. “Right. Alright, angel!” The passenger door opened again and a passenger - the car would have gasped, if it could, although it did manage an extra-strong blast of air conditioning - climbed back in, radiating love and light and safety. Without understanding how, or why, the car switched its stereo immediately to a country-music radio station that was currently playing Somebody Help Me by Kenny Rogers. Crowley glared at the stereo and murmured, “Not a good start.”

“Did you, you know, do whatever you needed to do?” the angel asked, gesturing vaguely to the dashboard.

Crowley put the car into reverse as he said, cryptically, “We’ll see. Hotel first, then dinner?” 

“Yes, fine. Do you know where Adam is?” He considered it. “Only I wouldn’t like to lose him so early on in the game. Again.”

“We can recon after dinner,” Crowley said, pulling into traffic and immediately running another car off the road. Aziraphale winced. “He told me the name of the team he’s going with, I found a picture of their truck online. We’ll drive around and look for it.”

“Unless he’s already left the city.” Aziraphale wrung his hands, nervous. “You don’t think they would have?”

“Nah. Got a text from Anathema that Adam said they’re not leaving until the morning, and they’ll be going north.” He ran a red light, prompting blaring horns from either side of the intersection and a whine from the engine of the 4-Runner. “Don’t have much beyond that, but we can find him.”

“Austin is a large city.”

“Not as big as London.” He shrugged. “We have all night, we’ll find him. Get some wine into you and you’ll be fine.”

“Perhaps.” Aziraphale looked out of the window as they drove down a highway, cars whizzing by on the right as Crowley passed them at - well, the speedometer didn’t bear looking at. He swallowed. “It’s been some time since I did a reconnaissance job.”

“Bodyguarding, more like,” Crowley said, conversationally, yanking the steering wheel to the right and flying down the exit ramp to the hotel. “Been a minute for me, myself. But It’s like … oh, you know.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel, irritated. “Like - like something you learn to do and never really forget.”

“Swordfighting?” Aziraphale suggested. 

“Maybe.”

Aziraphale had made the reservations under his name, and checked them in with the pleasant woman at the front desk. Overall, it was a very nice conversation - she was telling him about places to eat in town, especially where to get good sushi - and he was just getting ready to bid her a good day and take his leave when, from behind him, Crowley shouted, “Riding a bike!”

The woman blinked. “There are, uh, bike trails along the greenbelt -” but Aziraphale was waving a hand. “Oh?”

“He remembered something from earlier,” he explained with an apologetic smile, as he picked up his suitcase. “He does this sometimes. You get used to it.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Okay. Well, have a nice trip! Enjoy America!”

“Thank you. I’m sure we will,” Aziraphale replied, following Crowley toward the elevators. As they waited for the elevator to arrive, the clerk looked down to her computer - such a nice man, a little strange - and smiled a little when she heard him mutter to his companion, “You really need to work on that, dear.”

-

* Adam did know, actually, that Aziraphale and Crowley were each quite intelligent. They helped him with homework, after all. But book smarts, he reasoned, and actual common sense were vastly different, and while they might be brilliant in their own right intellectually, as a duo they at times struggled with concepts like pre-planning, not telling everyone their secret plans, and interacting with normal humans like they themselves were normal humans**.

** Adam knew they weren’t, but a little effort sometimes wouldn’t go amiss. There was, of course, the incident with The School Play. Crowley had been forgiven, eventually, but it took approximately one (1) metric tonne of candy in gifts, a generous donation to the school’s art department, and a weekend at Alton Towers for the entirety of the Them, all expenses paid.

*** Aziraphale had wondered what he’d packed in there, since Crowley invariably always miracled his clothes on and off, but he suspected it was hair products.

Now with Chapter 4!

[lunaraen]

Decorating

Somehow, they manage to turn the ever-tedious process of hanging up decorations into a game.

Not that it's all that surprising, all things considered.

Nell's always been good at making the most boring things fun or somehow cheery. The holiday season seems like it was practically made for her, in that regard.

It's similar to how Em seems built for decorating, in the way that she's 'luckily' tall enough and with long enough arms to reach places other people might not be able to, which means she's made for the inherently boring part. It just means she's extra lucky to be around somebody like Nell who can make those parts interesting.

Still, when it's a game, it's a game, and she'll take all the advantages she can get.

"I win." And that's why she grins as widely as she does, tying the end of some horribly tinsel-ribbon hybrid off at the top of one of the ocean themed columns in the shop.

Tacky? Definitely. Fitting in with the rest of the kitschy surfer store in the best way possible? Absolutely.

And Nell, who finishes her share only a few moments later as she places a surf board shaped ornament on the little tree by the counter, frowns up at Em in a way that can and should only really be described as a pout.

"Dude, that's cheating."

Em grins back as she crosses her arms, leans against the post.

"No it's not."

"It totally is." Nell's pout twists into something of a sly grin, small but meeting her eyes, as she straightens up and walks over to Em. It's hardly a bad thing, but Em becomes extremely aware of just how warm her face feels as Nell starts playing with her hands, linking their fingers. "I'd either have to climb a ladder or climb you to be able to reach that high."

It's easier to grin back, flushing face or not.

"It's not my fault you're short."

"And it's not my fault you're tall." Nell shrugs as she pulls away, smiling up at Em. "But it is my fault I've got your wristband."

Em notices far too late her wristband isn't actually on her wrist and that a certain someone happened to pull it off while they were holding hands and she was distracted.

Said certain someone is now grinning.

(It's hardly the first, or fiftieth, time that Nell's worn or taken her wristband, but it's the principle of the thing and it's part of why it's so easy to have fun with somebody who's willing to make everything fun.)

"...seriously?"

Nell twirls the wristbands, moving her finger just enough to make it spin as one shoulder gently moves in half a shrug.

"I never said I wouldn't be a sore loser; gotta keep it interesting, right?"

And, unexpected twists in decorating or not, Em's more than happy to let her teeth show as she grins back at Nell.

"You're on."

On one hand, it's almost a shame that Nell knows her so well, because she scrambles out of the way just before Em can charge her. Still, Em keeps herself from tripping over the empty box that Nell had been standing beside, turning without losing almost any speed.

Thanks to undesirable past events, they're both technically on equal footing, but they've got their specialties.

Em has experience chasing.

Nell, in return, has experience being chased.

So while Em doesn't lose hardly any speed, Nell's already ducked behind the other side of the counter and, as Em quickly finds out, dove through the open door on that side and into the backroom.

Which has two likewise open doorways, one going to the bedroom and the other to storage.

Nell's the type of scrawny person who's good at being quiet when she actually wants to be, so that means hiding in storage is just as likely as, if not more so than, hiding out in the bedroom.

The shop's closed today as it is, which is part of why all the doors are open and they're screwing around so much.

They've got time, realistically, and all the same Em's not waiting any longer than she has to to get her wristband back.

Em's just poked her head into the bedroom, which looks plenty disturbed thanks to the sunlight trickling in past the snow blocking up most of the window and the blankets that are both on the bed and floor, when the hair on the back of her neck stands straight up as somebody rushes by behind her.

Reflexes are a wonderful thing, even if it means Em's chasing after Nell back into the main shop before the rest of her realizes that's even what she's doing.

Nell stops in the middle of the shop, right under a large arch in the ceiling that separates the two sides of the store, and while her suddenly going still doesn't make any sense to Em, she knows an opportunity when she sees one. Her arms wrap around Nell's waist, securing her in place in case she does try to bolt last second, and turn her to face Em.

"Gotcha!" On the bright side, Nell's grinning. She's happy, so that's good. But what Em doesn't get it what she keeps glancing up at, and she finds her own gaze trailing up as her brow furrows. "What are you...?"

Oh. That.

That would be the mistletoe that she had attached to the arch when they started putting up decorations.

"Oh."

"Yup." And Nell sounds too pleased with herself in a way that makes Em feel way too happy.

"You planned this." It's not so much a question or even an accusation as it is a statement. Nell's always pretty good when it comes to thinking ahead.

"Oh, totally. Not bad, right?"

It's not, but Em chooses to ignore just how well she's been played in favor of realizing something else.

"You had no idea if the kissing under the mistletoe thing happens at all where I'm from." She raises an eyebrow, half smiling as Nell just sort of shrugs again at the observation.

And they definitely never had anything like that during the Games.

"Nah." Nell starts focusing on her hands again, not so much trying to push Em's arms away as she briefly twists to place the wristband back on her left wrist before shifting back to face her. "We don't do it back home, but Jesse says it's a big enough thing here, so..."

"You're such a dork. You know you can just ask, right?"

Nell's smile softens as she nods, wrapping her arms around Em.

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

She's in love with such a happy, sappy dork and she couldn't be happier about it.

"You're ridiculous."

"But you love me anyway." The words are almost singsong as Nell leans into Em, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

There's an obscene amount of kissing and laughing after that, way too much for only a little bit of mistletoe, and neither of them are complaining about it.

[tianasidhe-augurelt]

Driving Arrangements

AN: This is the first story I’ve written in a very long time, and my lack of focus caused it to take a lot longer to write it.  Thanks to my betas for proofreading!  

Rated: Teen, SFW

Features: Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Aranea Highwind.  Mild HighSpecs (Ignis/Aranea), and blink-and-you-miss-it Promdio (Prompto/Gladio).  Includes my headcanons of raging pan Gladio (nerfed for now), Prompto being into asses (especially Gladio’s ass), and Prompto having the nickname Sunshine.

Word count: 3139

It couldn't be helped. Ignis had cracked his glasses in their latest hunt, and his spare set was not on his person. The battle had taken far longer than expected, for they had stopped off at Taaka's Cafe for a meal prior to driving the remaining stretch to Keycatrich Trench. Sunset had come not long after their arrival as a roil of thunder coursed the sky, the clouds unleashing their bounty on the parched plains of Leide. Had it not been for Gladiolus's dislocated shoulder (the man kept insisting he would be fine, but any time he tried to move it, he let out a tortured whine), they would have made camp at the nearby haven.

Even in optimal weather, the advisor detested driving at night, but without his specs, it would be foolhardy to attempt it now. Thus it came as a shock, as he crafted a makeshift sling from Gladio's tank top to help limit the amount of movement of the arm, that Noctis offered to take the wheel unprompted. "You are certain, your Highness?" Ignis queried, a note of hesitance in his tone. "I would hate to burden you with..."

"Specs, it's fine, really," Noctis assured him, his gloved hand patting the taller man's shoulder. "Besides, better me than Prompto, am I right?"

Ignis hid a smirk behind a half-closed hand as their blonde companion came trotting over, camera at the ready. "I suppose..." he breathed in mild amusement.

"Guys, check it out!" Prompto exclaimed with glee, holding out his camera, the viewfinder on. "Got a sweet shot of Gladio and Iggy teaming up on the behemoth!"

"More like you got Iggy in frame while aiming the camera at my ass again," Gladiolus chuckled, trying once more to lift his injured arm, biting back another pained sound as he felt something give that wasn't supposed to. He sidestepped as Prompto tried to smack him, recovering enough to laugh warmly.

As they reached the hunter's outpost, someone called out to them from within the barn. "Hey there, boys," came a unexpected (but familiar) female voice. "Don't tell me I missed out on all the fun."

He couldn't help the tiny chuckle. "My... sincerest apologies, Aranea," Ignis intoned, ducking within the shelter and shaking out his jacket, draping it over an arm. "Had we known that you planned on joining the hunt, we would have waited. Your assistance would have been most appreciated." The corner of his mouth upturned as the former Commodore approached. Their paths had crossed a good number of times in recent weeks, and despite her slightly crass sense of humor, she was a valuable ally.

"You could have called," Aranea teased with a tiny pout, hand on her hip. It was an ongoing joke between the two, as she often found the men fighting tough daemons late at night, then would join them for a mission or two. As Ignis came closer, a moment's confusion flitted over her green eyes, her head tilted to one side. "You switching up your look, Specs? Kinda like it." Ignis paused a heartbeat, blinking as he reached up to feel the front of his hair, now missing its signature coif. "Dreadfully sorry, but the rain has seen fit to encourage me to shower," he quipped, gloved fingers running through his hair in vain hope of getting it to once more cooperate.

Aranea laughed, reaching up to tap the spot between Iggy's green eyes, causing him to backstep. "I meant your glasses," she chuckled. "Switched to contacts?"

Gladio's laugh cut across the divide, the Shield dropping into an offered chair as Noctis and Prompto checked with the posted hunters for further intel. "Nah, Iggy just lost them to our target's enthusiasm, and we didn't have the spare set with us. Probably stowed in our luggage or something." He bit back a curse as one of the medics reset his shoulder, then smirked as the strategist suppressed a cough.

"We should be heading back to Hammerhead to report the result of our hunt," Ignis grunted, eyes on the dragoon as the Prince returned. "Noctis has already offered to drive. I trust you have a means back to suitable accomodations, Aranea?"

She shook her head, silver hair swaying. "Nah, damn Nif ship is under repairs back at base, so I had to hitch a ride out here. And since I don't run around with a full camping set-up like you boys have..." "Why not ride back with us?" Prompto chimed in cheerfully, bouncing over with an over-enthusiastic grin. "I'm pretty sure Iggy and Gladdy won't mind you squeezing in with them."

Aranea's headtilt straightened, looking at Ignis as he coughed again, while Gladio's good arm moved to his buddy's back. "Oh I don't mind, but Princess here needs his space," the Shield said with clear amusement.

It took more effort to refrain from glaring up at Gladio than Ignis cared to admit to. "I will... make do," he grunted, eyes turned aside. "But I should warn you, as Noctis will be driving the Regalia, it is up to him as to whether we take on additional passengers..."

"Fine by me, Iggy," Noctis assured him, handing over a flyer with their next potential hunt on it. "Given what we're going to be hunting tomorrow, we could use the extra muscle, anyway. Might as well bring Aranea along and save having to bug her later."

The dragoon glanced down at the flyer as Ignis skimmed it, eyes widening a bit at the sheer size of their next target. "Wow, yeah, good thing I showed up after all," she said with a hint of a purr. "But... is the back seat actually big enough for all three of us?"

"Well, Iris didn't have any trouble fitting between me and Noct, but his ass is so scrawny..." Gladio mused, yelping as a light punch from the Prince landed on his still sore arm. "Hey, take it easy on me!"

"I-I could switch with you, Aranea," Prompto offered quietly, trying to make the situation less awkward. He could see how uncomfortable Ignis was getting and wanted to help.

Gladio reached for the blonde, ruffling his hair playfully. "You just wanna get close to my ass," he taunted.

"I-i-it's not like that!" Prompto whined, batting away his friend's hand, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. It was an ongoing joke in the group that Prom's tendency to take so many snapshots of the guys' backsides meant he preferred asses, Gladio's in particular being the most photographed.

"Nah, I'll be fine in the back, Sunshine," Aranea assured him, her smile as warm as the nearby campfire as she tapped the sharpshooter's nose. "Besides, someone's gotta be in charge of tunes, and I doubt the Prince even knows how to work the radio."

"Yeah, ain't that the truth," Prompto laughed, while Noct rolled his eyes in annoyance. = Fitting three grown adults in the Regalia's ample backseat proved trickier than first expected. As the rain shifted from sprinkles to a more pounding heaviness, they didn't dare lower the retractable roof, and no amount of wriggling permitted enough room for Aranea to fit between the strategist and the Prince's Shield. Compounding matters was Gladio's injury, as it wouldn't do having anything come in contact with it until they reached Hammerhead. Prompto once more offered to switch spots, but Aranea shot it down, declaring she'd find a way... then smirked as she suddenly moved to the far left.

So it was that Ignis, maintaining as stoic a face as he could muster, found himself beneath the leather-clad body of the (former) Commodore of Niflheim's Third Army Corps 87th Airborne Division, his face only a few inches away from the nape of her neck as she leaned back with a triumphant cheer.

"There we go, perfect!" the silver haired beauty declared. "Hope I'm not too heavy for you, Specs," she added, her left hand patting Ignis's on the armrest.

"Not at all," Ignis said with perfect calm, keeping his gaze locked on the side window, his right hand resting idly at his side. He pointedly ignored the chuckle from Gladio, not deigning to let his taller companion witness so much as a hint of the effort it was taking not to focus on how surprisingly supple the leather of Aranea's uniform was, and how it clung perfectly to her backside. Being this close, he picked up on the scent of... cherries? Fascinating...

Prompto turned back around to face the front, grumbling a little under his breath as he set to picking a track from the currently loaded playlist. "Lucky bastard..."

"I heard that," Aranea teased lightly, shifting a bit to settle into a more comfortable position. "I'm too old for you, not to mention that I'd probably squash you. Iggy can handle me just fine." Turning her head a bit to glance back, her tone went serious. "If it helps, I'm really sorry about this."

Ignis met her eyes, the strain of keeping his hands at his side quite telling this close up. "As I assured you earlier, I am perfectly fine," he crooned softly. "Just... try not to move around too much?"

She gave his left hand a tiny squeeze, settling back against him once more, careful to remain as still as possible as the car moved along the dirt road. Green eyes fell closed, the softest breath escaping her lips as she took a moment to relax. "Much comfier than a Nif seat," she admitted quietly.

To his credit, Noctis had gotten quite good at navigating the winding back roads of Leide and Duscae, taking little time to reach the primary passage back down to Hammerhead. However, the rain made for rather soggy running through the unpaved section, so he was forced to keep the car's speed down. Not helping matters was when a roving band of Magitek soldiers dropped down upon them unexpectedly (lightning arching high above being their single moment of warning). Noct let out an unsavory curse as he hit the brakes, causing the Regalia to slide askew (though miraculously not rolling). Aranea was nearly thrown forward, but blessedly saved as Ignis instinctively encircled her waist with both arms.

"Thanks, Specs," she managed, hands on the back of the driver's seat as she caught her breath.

"No need for thanks," Ignis assured her, releasing his hold and reaching for the door latch, allowing her to climb out. He shot a glance at Gladio, who was in no shape to help with the skirmish. "Shan't be but a moment. Do try to remain awake."

"No promises here, Iggy," Gladio grunted, the pain of being shifted against the side door mirroring that of his dislocated shoulder. "Just... come back in one piece?"

A shadow of a smirk crossed Ignis's lips as he summoned a dagger. "Of course."

The battle was in full tilt, flashes of blue dancing around the area as Noctis warp-struck several of the weaker 'teks in quick succession. Prompto was hanging back, unleashing a volley of cover fire to allow the strategist a moment's time to assess the situation. "Some of 'em are souped up," Aranea grunted to Ignis, her spear cleaving the head off of two units in a smooth arc. "Takes a few extra hits to... ugh!"

Ignis was at her side in an instant, deflecting bullets while she prepared her Highwind Technique. "How fares you?" he managed, not able to spare even a second to glance back at her.

"Holding up," she managed, crouching down before launching into the air. Her strike against the last group of 'teks cut short the volley of bullets, blessedly ending the skirmish.

As the smouldering remains of the artificial soldiers dissipated under the pulsing rain, the four returned to the Regalia. "Woo-hoo! We're alive!" Prompto crowed, fist shaking in triumph as he flopped into his seat. "Let's celebrate by eating something dead!"

Gladio chuckled, leaning forward to pat his young friend's shoulder. "Could go for a juicy burger, myself," he said with only a mildly strained voice. "Take my mind off this shoulder, at any rate."

"I'll see what I can whip up," Ignis chuckled, slipping back into the back, hands ready to steady Aranea as she began to climb back in. She was favoring her right leg, likely struck by a stray bullet during the battle's climax. "Aranea, perhaps it would be better if you rode up front?" he asked gently.

"'m fine, Specs," she grunted, trying to smile but wincing as her calf brushed along his, aggrivating the injury. "I'm a tough girl."

She tried her best to remain silent the rest of the trip back to Hammerhead, but every tiny bump had her biting her lip in restrained agony. Soothing hands rubbed at her upper arms, Ignis's voice gentle in her ear. "Even 'tough girls' get hurt. While I admire your strength, it is not shameful to ask for assistance."

"Not the first bullet I've taken," Aranea grunted through her teeth, but let herself shift back against Ignis. "But... thank you." = Prompto and Noctis got Gladio suitably doped up on a Flesh Fortifier, while Ignis took Aranea into the camper trailer to see to her injury. Once he'd gotten the straps loosened from her leg armor and the boot removed, careful fingers rolled up the pant leg. "Hmm, appears to have passed clean through and cauterized the wound," he mused, popping open a bottle of Muscle Stimulant and dribbling a little on some gauze before pressing it to Aranea's calf.

"Nif technology at its finest," Aranea quipped sarcastically, hiding a groan behind a gloved hand as he bandaged over the area. "Probably ammo from their backstock, which means they're running out of the good stuff." Silver hair fell forward as she moved to test her weight on the leg, which blessedly didn't hurt as much now, but couldn't bear much weight.

"They must be growing desperate if they're giving their new troops old equipment," Ignis noted, a hand out to steady her as she bent to roll the pant leg back down. "It's a ways to the nearest hotel. Care to bunk with us here? I could take a chair outside..."

"That's sweet of you, Specs," Aranea purred, moving to slip out of her other boot before trying to stand. "But I'd hate for you to be sore in the morning. I'll stick around for dinner, though." Ginger steps, but the muscles were still acclimating to the pain, and only Ignis' quick reflexes prevented her from falling. "...or maybe I could stay the night?" she added, her smile hidden as her face met his damp shirt.

Chuckling, Ignis guided her to sit once more. "Doctor's orders," he chided mildly. "I'll bring you a plate once I have dinner prepared." = Freshly grilled alshroom-stuffed garula burgers with gysahl pickles made for a satisfactory end to the day. Gladio finished what he could single-handedly, grumbling as the two younger men had to help him up the steps into the camper. "'s fine, 'm a big boy," he drawled, full stomach and medicine warring to render him unconscious, with only the valiant efforts of the other two ensuring he landed safely in the massive bed on the camper's east end. Prompto stayed with him, propping an extra pillow under his still healing shoulder before curling up against his chest for added warmth.

Noctis came back out to help with after-dinner cleanup, side stepping as Ignis came inside to check on Aranea. Fresh specs on his face (a slightly older round style, but still quite fetching), he could better examine the wound. "Hmm, coming along acceptably," he mused. "Should be completely whole by mo..." His voice trailed off, body momentarily freezing as he felt slender fingers brush a lock of hair from his forehead.

"I kinda like it when your hair is down," Aranea said sweetly. "Not that your regular look is hard on the eyes."

"It... does take a modicrum of effort to maintain, particularly in inclemental weather," Ignis admitted, cheeks flushing a bit as he changed out the dressing on Aranea's leg. "But I may opt to keep it down if you believe it better suits me."

Aranea fairly purred, leaning down to brush a kiss to the top of his head. "You look good no matter what style you pick. Might as well change it up once in awhile, right?"

"I will... take the suggestion under consideration," the strategist murmured, his voice a few notes lower to avoid waking the two in bed in the next compartment. Shifting halfway up, he slipped an arm around the dragoon's back, allowing her to lean against him as he guided her to the other sleeping compartment.

The bed at this end of the trailer was smaller than that in the room opposite, clearly meant to accomodate children (the pastel yellow walls covered in glittery moogle stickers further evidence of the room's previous occupants). Much too small for someone like Gladio, but small enough for Aranea. As she carefully let herself sink into the worn mattress, her hand lingered on Ignis' arm. "You... don't have to sleep outside," she said quietly, patting the spot next to her. "Besides, it's chilly out, and I'd hate to be the cause of you catching a cold."

Seafoam green eyes shifted away, Ignis' face flushing as he coughed. "It would be highly inappropriate for me to remain," he murmured, though he made no motion to depart.

"I don't bite, Specs," she chided, her smile warm and inviting. "Unless you like that sort of thing. Besides, it's late, and we'll need to set out early for that hunt tomorrow. Can't have you sneezing while driving."

"Well I wouldn't..." His resolve was waning, the thought of trying to get a proper night's rest in the Regalia looking less and less agreeable. Sighing, he sank down alongside the dragoon, searching the floor on the other side for any additional bedding, only to bite back an exclamation as a hand slid its way about his waist. "Aranea, this is not..."

"Just relax, I won't do anything 'inappropriate'," she teased, mimicking his words as she nestled along his back. "We're both tired. Just pretend I'm Noctis or Prompto if it matters."

Ignis slipped out of his glasses, setting them aside and taking a moment to rub hs face in defeat before moving to face Aranea in the narrow bed. "One night," he intoned, a finger up to punctuate the statement. "But in the future, I will insist on separate beds."

"Deal," Aranea chirped, nestling her head on his chest, smiling as an arm slid behind her shoulders. Gentle lips brushed her forehead, warm breath stirring the silver strands. "Good night, Ignis."

"Good night, Aranea," he murmured gently.