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aonogifreactions · 4 years

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Yukio Okumura Alphabet Headcanons - [SFW]

a/n: its finally here! and suprisingly, its not 2am, lmfao- heres our fave problematic boi. he deserves love too.

Yukio:

A = Affection (How affectionate are they with an s/o?)

Yukio's quite affectionate! However, most of the affection occurs somewhere in private, rarely in public; but it's not like he doesn't like showing it - he considers it somewhat intimate. Yukio has no problem holding your hand in public or wrapping his arm around your waist, though.

B = Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?)

Being yourself. Not acting like completely another person, whether its to just to fit in or to get an advantage in something. Even though it sounds kinda silly, he loves seeing you being yourself, the real you, doing what you like. It comforts him in a way, considering that he always had to change himself to either be an adult and take care of someone, or fighting his own demons. Since he always has to have a facade on, it's oddly satisfying seeing the person he loves the most being true to themselves and others.

C = Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

In private? hell yes. anytime, unless he's doing some important work (well,, he still lets you sit on his lap nonetheless). Loves to cuddle, even if he's a bit reluctant at first, since he isn't really used to it. Whenever you cuddle, he always unconsciously intertwines his fingers with you - it's a habit he's developed as he got used to the other person's touch.

D = Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

Similar to Rin - having a normal life. No satan, no Illuminati, just quiet and peace. Yukio also wishes to open up about himself and finally, leave any troubles and dishonesty behind. He feels guilty a lot knowing he's probably messed up too much and it's probably not gonna happen.

E = Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

He does his best! He has a great memory, so whenever an anniversary or bday approaches, he's already prepared. He also cares a lot, and it shows whenever he checks up on you - he acts kinda like a strict and caring mom, but that's just how he is. Questions about your wellbeing are always honest. Emotionally, he might be a little clumsy.

F = Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

Outside is calm and collected, but outside he's panicking. He handles the situation pretty well, no matter if it's something serious or not. He asks if you're okay, if you need anything; if he hears "no", he kisses you on your forehead, sits next to you and pulls you closer to him, so you can wrap your hands around him and listen to his heartbeat. He doesn't say anything; instead, he plays with your hair and gives small kisses on the crown on your head.

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

He's the jewelry type of guy. Whether it's expensive or something on the cheaper side, he likes both if it holds some kind of meaning. He loves buying you bracelets, sometimes he gets himself a matching one and wears it hidden under that black, exorcist coat. Doesn't really want nor expects to get a gift in return, and will have a hard time accepting one, but eventually, he'll take it. (and I mean, if you shove it in his hands and leave)

H = Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

Hugging is a must, but in a very subtle way. Oh, you two greet for the first time this day? He side hugs you, placing a kiss on your forehead. Side hug works as a goodbye as well. Full-on hugs occur usually after a tough mission, if your life's been in danger or he feels particularly affectionate that day.

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

He's pretty romantic, likes those cliche things, like giving you flowers or lighting candles for a special dinner for you two. Sometimes he cringes a lot because of that cheesy things, but it's really sweet, considering his personality. The only problem with intimacy is, well, his mind that at first, doesn't want to allow you to get to know his struggles. Since he's always self-loathing, it's really hard to get through that thick walls he's built throughout the years; He does actually open up eventually, but it takes him a lot of time - he wants to know that he can trust you.

J = Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

Gets jealous only if you're "interacting too much" with people close to him - like Rin (sorry), Bon, or Renzo. Yukio just stares and, possibly, burns holes in the other person's skull. He'll place his chin on his palm, resting his elbow on the desk and.. just stare with no shame. If that person looks at him, he just smiles, but let me tell you, that smile is NOT a pleasant one. (aka "you better stop or else" kind of smile)

K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

He's a decent kisser. I think he's kissed before, so he generally knows what to do and gets better as the relationship goes. Likes kissing, surprisingly! Often kisses you around your face, like on the forehead, cheeks, or your hair. Lips kisses, however, are mostly shared in private - he feels it's way more serious and intimate than any other kiss.

L = Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Yukio says "I love you" when he feels like it; it's not like he doesn't love you, it's just the way he is. Even though it's not often, he pours everything from his heart into these words. He's most likely emotionally vulnerable during this time, too - when his walls break down and he finally lets some of his struggles out, he always says that three words when he's done with his monologue. Sometimes however, you can do a random thing, and out of nowhere you hear him saying it too (just imagine eating marshmallows and hearing his "I love you", then looking at him with your stuffed mouth.. well-). He's a 50/50 guy - he knows he doesn't say that often, so he makes it up by trying to show it in different ways.

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?)

Would love to get married! But Yukio being Yukio, thinks that who'd want a fool like him to spend their life with? with him? after all he's done? You won't accept his proposal, bet! When he's actually going to propose, he thinks "you only die once" (this proverb is so cursed-) and he's just gonna do it, thinking he's gonna be rejected. Would like a small ceremony, only with people he trusts the most and your families. (Mephisto is NOT invited, by the way.) ((yes, he's mad about it. hoes mad))

N = Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

Home dates all the way! Or, if night walks are considered dates, they're his favorite. Walking through the city with a cold breeze, empty streets, and blinking stars above him - it's his guilty pleasure. There's no one to bother him, and the fact that he can share this feeling with you makes him feel fulfilled inside. If it's okay with you, he can go on walks like this every night (unless the weather sucks).

O = Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

As silly as it sounds, he's usually against a nice, specific skincare routine. Whether you suggest giving you both masks, he turns that down. He thinks it takes too much time and ultimately does nothing to make his skin better. (psst, just beg him until he gives up and gets a tiger mask on)

P = Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

He's quite playful if he's in a good mood. His only weapon is to tickle you whenever you expect it the least.

Q = Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

Depending on what topic the discussion is about, he might or not ask you for your opinion. He does value your thoughts on things, but if it's something regarding his actions, he's very likely to listen to himself anyway. If it's about something more light-hearted or less serious in general, he's definitely gonna ask you. He himself shares his own opinion rarely, unless he's cornered.

R = Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

It's been planned ahead, at first, but given that his "adventures" with both the Order and Illuminati made things quite... messy, it's now considered kinda spontaneous. He, to be honest, doesn't want anymore to plan things too far ahead, not knowing if they're gonna actually work out or not.

S = Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

He's a switch! Most of the time he's the big spoon, sleeping behind you with his arm over your hip, but when his mental health gets worse, he likes being spooned. Before sleeping, he has a small routine with you - when you're lying in bed, he hugs you tightly to reassure both himself and you that you're still here for him and he's for you, safe and sound.

T = Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

Yukio's got a little bit of trust issues, at first. In the first few months, he won't tell any information about either himself, or Rin. If his s/o doesn't participate in exorcist classes, he won't even bring up the topic of being the son of Satan himself (so his schedule might seem a little bit sketchy). He's that kind of guy that believes his relationship won't last long, so he sees no need to tell any sensitive info that could possibly cause even more problems. As the relationship progresses and he realizes his s/o deserves to know and has put up with his shit to the current day, Yukio will slowly break the news, feeling extremely guilty.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as an s/o?)

Despite him bottling up his emotions and thoughts, he's a top-notch listener. Whenever something is bothering you, he's gonna ask if you wanna talk about it; he's gonna listen to it and give you the best advice he could possibly think of. He thinks something along the lines of "if I can't be helped, at least I'll help someone else that actually cares about me."

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

Very, very long. A whole ass year, if not more. His breakdowns are very violent - they start with him being furious - he's yelling, pacing around, and holding guns all the time; might also throw stuff, so in this phase, it's better to let him do his thing, instead of getting yourself injured and making him blame himself for more. The second and last phase is when he just kneels and lowers his head, dropping the guns on the floor and placing both of his hands on his face; that's when he starts sobbing, apologizing, and saying what's been on his mind all that time. He chokes on his sobs whilst talking, his entire body is shaking and when you come closer to him to embrace him, he throws himself at you and holds you like it's the last thing he's doing on this world.

W = Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice)

On a happier note, Yukio's all ready to try out some basic, simple things you're interested in! You're baking? He's here to help you in any way he can - mixing, decorating. I headcanon that he's able to read extremely fast, so he might as well read any of the books/manga you like and talk about it later on. If you're an artist, no matter if the beginner or not, he's very willing to help you with anatomy, drawing certain parts of the body, or explaining them in detail!

X = X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

Surprisingly calm, unlike Rin. He's patched Rin up before, plus he has a meister in doctor, so he's familiar with it and is pretty skilled with his hands. If the injury is too much for him, he's gonna get you to the hospital.

Y = Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

The only things that bother him are sticking nose in other people's business or forcing him to talk about certain things.

Z = Zeal (Are they passionate as an s/o? Do they want or like passion?)

He's trying his best to be; likes passion himself, but feels like he doesn't deserve a single bit of it.

Yukio edit isnt mine! credit to the author! <3 headcanons written by me.

#Ao no Exorcist #ao no exorcist imagine #blue exorcist #blue exorcist imagines #blue exorcist imagine #Yukio Okumura #yukio okumura x reader #alphabet headcanons #Headcanon #Pure #im sorry if its bad i dont think i can read yukios personality that well :(

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years

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in support of Black Lives Matter, @aspiringmehood donated $25, and requested ‘Sam/Dean, late seasons, dealing with Stanford.’ Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

Dean’s cooking--kind of, in that he’s stirring boxed pancake mix with some water--and Sam’s on the phone.

“No, I think that sounds great,” he’s saying. “Seems like the essay matters a lot depending on the school you’re hoping to get into, but your test scores and grades are obviously big, too. How did you do on the SAT?”

This isn’t a conversation that they’re on speakerphone for--Sam’s easy at the kitchen table, the phone to his ear and his laptop open in front of him, and when Dean turns around with the bowl of mix he looks at Sam’s shoulders, turned away, and chews the inside of his cheek, and puts butter on the griddle.

“Definitely,” Sam says, to something Dean can’t hear. He laughs, quietly. “I think Jody could probably do as well as I could, but let me know if you need more help. Sure thing.”

He hangs up, shakes his head. Dean pours a neat circle of batter onto the griddle, listens to the hiss. “How’s Alex?” he says.

“Applying to schools,” says Sam. Like that wasn’t obvious. He glances at Dean over his shoulder with a small smile, turns back to his laptop. “Jody made her call me because she was convinced she couldn’t get in anywhere with a sketchy school record. Think I proved her wrong.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, and looks down at the pancakes. Bubbles starting and soon it’ll be time to flip. “She’s smart.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, absently, and closes his computer, stands up. “Those’ll be done soon, huh?” he says, and at Dean’s nod he says, “Cool, I’ll be right back--just want to get something sent over to Alex before we eat,” and he’s gone, then, and Dean’s standing in the kitchen by himself, looking at pancakes, with no idea why his stomach feels as knotted up as it does. Except he does know, really. He flips the pancakes. It’s not worth thinking about.

It eats at him anyway. All day. Sam’s researching something-or-other to do with the Darkness, and Cas isn’t answering calls, and Dean--doesn’t have anything to do. He about drove himself into the ground, trying to come up with something, and Sam practically sat on him and told him he had to take some time away from it. They still don’t know what’s going on there, and going insane about it isn’t helping, and so he’s trying. He changes the oil in the Impala; he cleans the kitchen. He goes down to the shooting range and cores neat holes through the faceless targets and wants--a rot-eaten fence at the edge of the woods, and shooting up Coke bottles, and the sun beating down.

He takes a shower and when he goes to bed, Sam’s on the chair in his room, typing at something on his knees. “What are you doing?” Dean says, and Sam glances up at him, smiles at him in his pajama pants, but says, “Editing,” and when Dean frowns he clarifies: “Alex’s college essay. Apparently it’s too embarrassing to show Jody.” His eyes drop back to the computer screen and he shakes his head. “She’s got an interesting relationship with apostrophes.”

Dean doesn’t have anything to say to that. He didn’t know apostrophes were something you could have a relationship with of any kind. “You going to be done with English class in my bedroom any time soon?” he says instead, and Sam glances at him, shakes his head again.

“Yeah--sorry, just didn’t want to wait on it,” he says, and clicks something, and closes the laptop, dumps it on Dean’s dresser. He’s in pajamas too, that touchable washed-to-death shirt and the flannel pants Dean got him when his last pair got accidentally eaten by the dryer--Dean still maintains that that one wasn’t his fault--and when he climbs into bed he’s just--warm, and soft to the touch, and he settles like it’s natural against Dean’s back. Maybe it is natural for them, anymore. Ever since he got the mark off his arm they haven’t really bothered, with separate beds, and it’s--good. Better than Dean thought it’d be. He settles his head more comfortably on the pillow and Sam kisses the back of his neck, just--soft, not going anywhere with it, but it makes Dean’s gut tighten up anyway. Sappy bitch, he thinks, fondly, and then Sam sighs, slips his arm around Dean’s waist.

“She’s so excited, man,” he says. Dean opens his eyes, looks into the darkness on the opposite wall. “It’s kinda cool, you know? She had this screwed up life and now she gets to get out of it--make something of herself.”

“Lucky,” Dean says.

Sam huffs, obviously smiling. “Her version of this will be a little easier, though,” he says, “since she actually has--you know--a mailbox. No weird forwarding addresses and hoping she doesn’t miss an envelope. Seriously, lucky.”

Dean turns his face more into his pillow, doesn’t answer. It’ll be easier for her, too, he thinks, without having to hide every part of it from her family--for her not to have to pretend it’s not happening--and when she leaves--

He closes his eyes, feels Sam’s bulk all up against his back. He’s here. Here, and he swore he’d always be, and Dean has to believe that. If he doesn’t, then what’s the point?

Apparently it’s application season. Sam calls Alex again the next day, talks her through some of the things he suggests she might change in her essay. She doesn’t have her sights set on the stars--no Stanford or Harvard or MIT for her--but she’s still nervous, wants to get it right. Sam snorts, when he gets off the phone, says, “Claire says she hopes they’ve got hairdressing electives at Minnesota,” and Dean thinks, jesus, Claire. He shoves back, away from the table, and when Sam gives him a startled look he says, “Forgot, I was going to go to the store,” and it’s a shitty lie but it’s the only thing he can come up with in that second--imagining Claire and Jody, alone in the house, and how it feels when three people turns into two--and then because he’s said it he grabs his coat and gets into the car and drives into town, and he knows he’s being an absolute dumbass but it comes like this, sometimes, and he can’t help it.

He’s nearly calmed down, by the time he gets back. “Got beer,” he announces, which he did, and even crap for a salad for Sam, and stuff for burgers, and Sam helps him carry it into the kitchen and helps put it away, and then he grabs Dean by a jeans-pocket and traps him against the island with his hands on the counter either side of Dean’s hips, and he looks down at him square, and he says, “Why are you being weird?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Pot-kettle, Sammy,” he says, and pushes at Sam’s stomach.

Sam doesn’t budge, though, and Dean looks away. “Dude, like I don’t know you,” Sam says. He resettles his hands on Dean’s waist, squeezes soft. “Is it--are you having dreams, again? About the Darkness?”

He is, but that’s not new. He could lie and say it was that. “Nah, I’m good,” he says, because he is--he really is, no matter how much of a spaz he’s being.

Sam doesn’t let him go, though, and Dean knows he’s frowning. “Then...” he starts, and seems to--get it, somehow, from Dean’s brainwaves or something, because he sighs and it sounds disappointed. “The college thing.”

“It’s no big deal,” Dean says, or tries to, because before he can really get the last word out Sam’s cupped his face in both hands and pulled him straight and is kissing him--shallow, precise like Sam can be sometimes--good enough that Dean grabs Sam’s hips, opens up to it, tilts. Sam’s mouth, taste of bitter coffee. Perfect.

When Sam pulls back it’s by a few inches, and when Dean opens his eyes Sam’s smiling at him, but it’s kind of--sad, or compassionate, or pitying maybe. Hard to tell. “You’re a bad liar,” Sam says.

True, lately. Still. “You’re a bad liar,” Dean retorts, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Come here,” Sam says, and Dean doesn’t want to, but Sam tugs at his wrist and Dean follows him--out of the kitchen, into the hall, and then into Sam’s room, where Sam kicks off his boots and sits on the bed, and when he holds out his hand Dean takes it, and is drawn up to... sit in Sam’s lap, his knees spread around Sam’s hips.

Not a position he usually takes, at least when they’re dressed. He raises his eyebrows and Sam shrugs. “Trying some positive reinforcement,” he says, which doesn’t make any damn sense. The way he’s propped up against the headboard, Dean’s looking down at him, for once. Sam’s mouth lifts at one corner, his eyes all over Dean’s face. “Talk.”

“This is dumb,” Dean says.

“I agree,” Sam says, but he squeezes Dean’s hips, soft. “But something’s bugging you. The college thing? It’s just a kid going to college, man.”

Dean licks his lips. “I know,” he says, and he does. “Alex is smart to get your advice. You’re the expert.” He meant it to be light but it comes out--bitter, and Sam frowns. Fuck. Dean shakes his head. With how they’ve been he doesn’t want to be an asshole--they’ve been trusting each other, open, and he didn’t mean to screw it up. “I don’t mean--Sammy. It’s cool, it makes sense. I mean, you’re probably the only person who knows what she went through who also knows what they’re doing, with this kind of stuff. You’re doing a good thing.”

Sam looks up at him, eyes steady. “I know,” he says, after a minute. “But it’s got you thinking about--back then. When I left. Dean, that was--god, fifteen years ago or something.”

“I know,” Dean repeats, raw, and goes to push off Sam’s lap but Sam doesn’t let him. “Dude, give it up with the manhandling routine.”

“No,” Sam says, sitting up. He loops his arms around Dean’s waist and kinda smiles, in that Sammy way where it doesn’t so much look like a smile at all. “C’mon, man. You--seriously, do you still think about that?”

That night, in front of that busted-ass old house. Everything he’d been clinging to crashing down around his ears. Maybe not the worst night of his life anymore, but it’s still ranked. “It’s dumb,” he says, which he realizes a little too late is more revealing than maybe he wanted it to be, with how Sam’s face changes. “Sam, it’s no big deal.”

“You keep saying that,” Sam says, quiet, and one of his cheeks sucks in, like he’s gnawing at it. He keeps holding on, like Dean’s a flight risk or something, and it’s--nice, sort of. Close like this, outside of just sleeping or screwing. Sam takes a breath and Dean feels the way his chest expands. “It’s one of the best things I ever did. Going to school.”

Dean looks up at the ceiling, the slow-spinning fan.

“I got to just--live,” Sam continues. “Exploring the world, and figuring out what I liked. Meeting people who weren’t hunters and learning stuff that wasn’t just how to kill things. I mean, obviously I know now it wasn’t going to go anywhere--I was never going to be allowed to be a lawyer, or live a normal life like I thought I wanted, but. I still wouldn’t change it.”

Dean swallows, and tries to muster up how to be a man. “I get it,” he says, and--he does. This he knows how to be honest about. When he looks back down Sam’s still watching him, total focus, and he tries a smile. “You needed to get away. Grow up a little. Anyway, you and Dad were probably gonna shoot each other if you’d been cooped up together any longer.”

Sam snorts, leans back a little with his hands still locked at the small of Dean’s back. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. “So--it was important. But I don’t think I got until--way later. How much it screwed us up. That it screwed you up. That--I wish I could go back, sometimes. Fix that.”

Still watching. Sam’s whole laser-attention thing is annoying as hell, sometimes. “It was a long time ago,” he says, shrugging.

“Right,” Sam says, ironic. “That’s why you always think I’m gonna bolt the second there’s a pretty girl in a nice town, or there’s an ad for a college on TV.” Dean’s jaw clenches hard enough that his teeth kinda hurt and Sam shakes his head, but he slides his hands up Dean’s back, too, a long stroke, and lifts up to kiss the underside of his jaw, tender. “You know,” he whispers, “I’m taking an online class right now.”

Dean blinks. “What?”

“History of the Meiji Era in Japan,” Sam says. When he meets Dean’s eyes again he’s still smiling. “Undergrad elective through Michigan State. Really interesting stuff.”

“You never told me that,” Dean says. He shifts, in Sam’s lap, and does put a few more inches between them.

Sam sighs. “I know. Maybe--I don’t know. Didn’t want you to freak out. Can’t imagine why I thought that might happen.” Dean nearly shoves at his shoulder, then, and Sam catches his arm, reels him back in. “Sorry,” he says, and he actually does look kinda sorry. “I just don’t know how to convince you, man. You’re it, for me. No matter what kind of crap happens, or--whatever, how many planets fall down on our heads. It’s you and me, no matter what. A college class isn’t going to change that.”

“I know,” Dean says, and when Sam’s eyebrows crease uncertainly he shakes his head. “Dude. I really do. It’s--the same for me. You know that, right?”

“Come whatever,” Sam says, softly, and Dean dips his head then and kisses Sam first, gentle because--because they can afford that, now. With the promises they’ve made, and what those promises meant.

When he pulls back Sam looks gratifyingly pink, in the hollows of his cheeks, and Dean shrugs one shoulder. “I’m just screwed up, Sammy,” he says. “When it comes to you. Probably always will be.”

Sam smiles at him, lopsided. “Guess that comes with the territory,” he says. Dean snorts. Understatement. Sam licks his lips, looking up at him, and then--flips them, in the bed, rolling Dean underneath in a surge of show-offy muscle so that he’s propped up on his elbows, his body solid in the cradle of Dean’s body. He looks kind of smug about it, too, and Dean pinches his side and says, “show-off,” and Sam kisses him soft, doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Maybe if Alex needs her dorm room demon-proofed, we can both help,” he says, when he pulls back.

Dean tucks his hair back behind his ear, shakes his head. “We’ll teach her how to do it herself,” he says. “She’s supposed to be a college girl, right? She needs to learn.”

Sam nods. “Deal,” he says, warm, and kisses Dean again, and they move on then, to better things.

#fffb #aspiringmehood #wincest #wincest fic #my writing

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lord-explosion-baku · 6 years

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Villain!Hawks x reader x (kinda) Dabi

Warnings: blood, mentions of death, mentions of violence, criminal activity, suggestive content

A/N: I guess the first time I write for hawks should be a villain!Hawks request so I can stay On Brand. I hope I did alright lol? Also I did a big goof and wrote this knowing I had something like this in my inbox but forgot that the reader was supposed to be a hero and you wanted this to end with it being smutty. I could either do a part 2 of this or write something different where the hero is a hero and then you know... the smut happens. Lol sorry that I’m a trash monkey. Please enjoy!!

You’d met Hawks when he saved you from getting hit by a bus. Out of character of you, you weren’t looking when the blaring horn caught your attention. You didn’t have time to react and all you could do was close your eyes but before you knew it, arms wrapped around your torso and you were flying above the city.

At first, when you looked up at him, you thought he was an angel because of a particular cast down on his silhouetted figure by the sun. He had to be an angel carrying you to heaven and you mentally cursed yourself for ever doubting an afterlife. You were thankful that your death didn’t hurt, at least, you couldn’t remember being hurt but you took note of the abdominal discomfort you felt with his arms wrapped around you. After taking a second look, you saw the scarlet wings and you recognized your savior as the number two hero.

He left you on a rooftop without sparing you a second glance. You had to catch your breath and reassess what had happened. The hero saved your life and zipped away, probably onto his next conquest. You’d grown up watching All Might who was so chivalrous and probably a little bit too showy but you were enthralled by heroes like him. He had always been the example of what you thought a true hero should act like for most of your life but you figured that era was over and even the top heroes didn’t care too much about acting gallant anymore.

The sun was beating down hard and you wiped at your forehead before trying the door; locked. You turned to the sound of flapping to see Hawks rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You were glad he wasn’t too oblivious.

“I’d thank you for saving my life,” you said, “but it looks like you just wanted me to go by a more slow and painful death, baking in the sun like this.”

His lips curled into a wide grin, though you could see a hint of red poking out through his large visors. “I’m not a fan of taking anything too slow, not even murder.”

Oh so he thinks he’s funny. “Well, my my, is Japan’s number two hero telling me he likes to kill people?” You tilted your head and tried to halt your heart from pounding. It was embarrassing to admit but you were actually really nervous to be talking to someone who was basically a celebrity and diving more int to that, you were flirting with him.

“Yikes,” he chuckled. “Looks like my secrets out! I guess I’m left when no other options but to dispose of you.”

You lifted your arms in a mock surrendering shrug. “I suppose it can’t be helped. But I’ve gotta let you know, I’ll probably enjoy it more if you take it slow for me. Consider this my final wish?”

He choked at your suggestive comment, the red of his cheeks growing to a darker shade of crimson. He brushed his fingers through his messy wind driven hair and pulled his visor up to the top of his head. “What did you say your name was?”

You crossed your arms, pondering whether or not you should play more along with the game you two had started and say something like, ‘you know, it’s harder to kill something once you give it a name,’ but you didn’t want him to know that you were that into role play.

“I didn’t say it. But if you must know, it’s Y/N L/N.”

“Y/N, huh,” he was quick to say your name so casually! You didn’t mind too much. You figured, everyone in Japan just called him ‘Hawks.’

“You’re cute,” he offered you a half grin that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe I’ll spare your life if you thank me properly.”

“Oh? How would I go about thanking you in a way that suits you, Mr. Hawks?” You made a point to emphasize the semi formal title you’ve bestowed onto him.

“Well, Miss Y/N, you can start by letting me take you on a date.”

It was time for your own cheeks to flush and that didn’t go unnoticed by Hawks whose quirked eyebrow and half grin were only adding to your dilemma. You told yourself to stay composed but you couldn’t help your stomach from giving out a nervous flutter. The number two hero was incredibly handsome anyways. What harm could one date do?

You tossed your hair to the side and grinned. “Get me off this roof and I’ll consider it.”

The two of you started dating after that. It had been casual and mostly nice. Hawks didn’t take you to fancy restaurants or get dressed up in anyway. He liked to show you places that had the best view and go on tiny adventures outside of the city, stopping to get food whenever it was convenient if you didn’t pack a lunch for the two of you. You had fun but it always seemed like he was trying to rush things, trying to pack so many good things into one day, as if there was this invisible stopwatch counting the time you two had together down. By the second date he was already trying to put some kind of label on the relationship and it felt wrong so you had to tell him to take it easy which was weird considering how relaxed he seemed all the time.

You hadn’t yet slept together either, not for lack of trying on his end, but there was something about waiting, especially with how flighty Hawks was... you wanted to know if you could trust him before taking that step. Trust came hard to you because of your quirk: See Through. It wasn’t the neatest thing in the world but it was helpful. When your eyes light up you can see through just about any solid surface, the brighter your eyes got, the more layers you could see through. Because of your quirk, you’ve grown to distrust a lot of people; it was surprising how often people betrayed you from just one wall away. Hawks didn’t seem to have any secrets but he seemed to understand that you had your own issues. And it was fine. You two had a good time together. It. Was. Fine.

Until the fateful night that you found out that Hawks was hiding something from you. Something huge. Something you couldn’t unsee. Something you had to pay for.

It was a dismal coincidence. Work had been stressful and the people on the street were too loud and the crowd gave you anxiety so you decided to move through alleyways, using the lights in your eyes to guide you through the darkening night. Halfway through your trek, your eyes fell upon a long red feather. Odd. You picked it up, smiling because it reminded you of your beau and you lovingly drew your fingers along the sharp edge. When some sort of liquid residue coated your hand, you dropped the feather. It had been covered in… blood.

Maybe it was Hawks’s? Maybe he was fighting a villain? Maybe he was hurt? There wasn’t much you could do for him in a lot of situations but if he needed aide then you had to find him immediately. You quickly but cautiously followed a trail speckled with blood until you heard hushed voices around a corner.

And then, you saw him. Catching a glimpse of his wings first, you quickly switched your eye lights off when you saw he was with someone you couldn’t see all that well— a tall man with black spiky hair in a long jacket. They were walking towards a shady and disgusting looking door, with them… a body.

A feeling of dread overcame you and you felt your mouth go dry. The situation didn’t sit right. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them.

“I think you might’ve actually killed him,” the man said to Hawks, yanking on the limp body.

Hawks… didn’t kill people. Heroes don’t kill people!

“Yeah well, you can’t say he didn’t deserve it. He was a rat.” What the hell? Your heart felt like it turned into ice. You had to cover your mouth to stifle your labored breathing. Your nerves were on fire. What was going on?

“Tsk, so aggressive. Is something frustrating you in your personal life?” The man asked in a demeaning tone.

Neither of them were looking your way and your desperate curiosity go the better of you. Using your quirk, you saw through the wall of the building they were approaching. Inside sat crates with loads of packaged product of some sort and about seven sketchy people standing around, few of their faces you’ve seen on the news as people of interests… this wasn’t wrong.

“What are you, my therapist?”

“Don’t tell me it’s the girl,” the man chuckled and your ears perked. “You’re frustrated sexually because that girl won’t let you jump her bones and you’re taking out those frustrations on low lives. Though I’m liking this side of you, might I suggest being more… assertive? She’s probably waiting for you to lose your shit and dominate her. Women like to be controlled.”

Your blood boiled. What an arrogant and vile man!

Hawks turned to scowl back at him. “Dabi, I don’t need you to be giving me-…” you had forgotten about your glowing eyes and Hawks’s rich, brown, kind ones met yours, “relationship advice…”

The strange man, Dabi followed Hawks’s gaze and looked right at you. You took in his unusual appearance, dark, severely burned looking skin stables over regular pasty looking skin. His facial piercings glinted from the light in your eyes. You blinked away your light and froze, unable to think quickly enough about what you should do in this situation. This was… terrible.

“Looks like we’re not alone,” Dabi murmured to Hawks and made a coaxing gesture towards you. “C’mere, alleycat. Wanna play?”

“Y/N…” Hawks took a step in your direction and you took a step back, around the corner. Before you knew it, your feet were moving. You sprinted through the alleyways in search for the street, favoring the noise, the faces, the people far more than what you had just witnessed. You had to get help. You had to get somewhere safe. You had witnessed a crime, a crime that you witnessed a crime hero commit, and he knew who you were. He knew how to find you. You weren’t safe. You needed to get out!

But Hawks was fast.

The terrible sound of flapping wings that you had previously grown fond of now made your stomach churn. From above, he shot down, sliding to his knees before his giant crimson wings spread out in front of you, blocking you from a quick escape. His eyes locked with yours.

“Hey!” He said, upbeat as ever. But his friendly smile did not match the sharp look into his eyes, nor his cautious, watchful movements. “I didn’t expect to be seeing you tonight! I can’t say I’m not happy but uhh this is a bit of a surprise!”

You slid back. “H-hh,” Christ, you couldn’t even say his name. You shook your head and bolted in the other direction, only to slam into his new special friend.

“That’s cute, you’re scared,” Dabi smirked as he grabbed your struggling wrists, “don’t you know that you should be running into the hero’s arms?” His eyes traveled down your body and his grin grew wider. “It’s really cute actually.”

“Let me go!” You bellowed at him, kicking your feet around. You dared to look into his dangerous turquoise eyes and snarled, “I’ll scream!”

Dabi chuckled, “oh, I hope you do…”

You huffed before taking in a lot of air and opening your mouth to prepare to let out an ear shattering screech but before you could, Hawks’s gloved hand wrapped around your mouth. “Ssshhhshh, Y/N, don’t be scared. Dabi’s not gonna hurt you!”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow at Hawks. “I’m not?”

“No,” Hawks growled back, “he’s not! Let her go, man.”

Dabi scoffed and released your wrists which you ripped to your sides. Hawks pulled your closer to him, his hands leaving your mouth to spin you around. “Are you okay?”

Of course you weren’t okay. You were freaking the fuck out, cornered in an alley by two… by two villains. By the guy you were dating!! “Just let me go,” you pleaded. “I’m not… I won’t tell a soul what I saw- I just want to go home, Hawks.”

“What did you see?” His voice was soft and he reached out for your cheek butnyou shied away. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t know exactly how much trouble you were in or what Hawks would end up doing to you when he knew that he had maybe killed a man and he was working with… black market dealers?? But your silence said everything. “Too much then, yeah?”

“I can’t believe you,” you spat. “You told me that I could trust you! You told me I had nothing to worry about! But Jesus, Hawks, you’re a criminal!”

“Hey, come on, level with me here. I’m still me, I’m still Hawks. I just have… a few more jobs than I let on but to be fair, you never asked and I never lied to you! You just need to calm down right now, okay? I’m gonna be honest, if those other guys knew what you saw, they’d kill you, Y/N. We can’t let that kinda information get out, right?”

Your eyes widened. We? So he was really apart of whatever the hell you just witnessed. He wasn’t a hero at all. “Are… um,” you tried to swallow but your dry throat wouldn’t let you. The man before you recently assaulted someone else. Who’s to say he wouldn’t do the same thing to you? “Are you going to kill me?”

“Baby, of course not! I could never hurt you! You’ll always be safe when you’re with me, I promise! I saved you, remember that? Maybe three times now!”

Dabi scoffed from behind you. “Since when did you start calling her ‘baby’?”

He had done it only a few times before which you’d shoot down immediately. Pet names were for people who were in a relationship and you told him that him calling you ‘baby,’ was like a way of forcing you into one without realizing it. But he was in control of this situation and you weren’t in any position to be objecting.

Hawks narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “This could be a good thing! I don’t have to keep this secret from you and I’m sure, no, positive we’ll be spending a lot more time together because of it. I’ve been thinking long and hard about it for awhile now. I like you, Y/N, I really like you. Since that day on the rooftop, I knew you’d be special. You’re so fiesty and forthright and, well, I’m willing to give a proper relationship a go.”

He was speaking to you as if he hadn’t been pressuring you into a relationship with him for weeks already. Whether he was acting that way to impress this new friend, Dabi, or for the sake of actually saving you from a not so pleasant situation didn’t matter. He had you right where he wanted.

A dark shadow crossed his eyes and he gave you a wild look that you hadn’t seen before. It was seriously off-putting. “That is… if you are also willing.”

“Willing…?”

“I think we’ll be so good together, don’t you? Whadya say? Be my girl? Be my baby?”

You’ve consumed enough media to know that you had be subservient in these types of situations. Be compliant until you know you’re safe. “Okay,” you sighed. “I’ll… be your baby…”

Hawks’s wings twitched with excitement and his shoulders relaxed while he gave you a genuine and relieved smile. “I’m so glad,” he said, “so… Does my baby want a kiss?”

Dabi poked his head around your shoulder, “from who?”

You yipped and hopped closer to Hawks who took that as an opportunity to put his hand on the small of your back.

“So jumpy this one,” Dabi snickered.

“I kinda like it,” Hawks cooed, wrapping his wings around you so you were shielded from Dabi. “I didn’t know you had a vulnerable side to you. This is gonna be a lot of fun. Now…”

He nuzzled his scruffy face against your cheek, a tickling sensation you’ve learned to enjoy. You let your body grow goosebumps and closed your eyes, allowing your head to roll into his. There really wasn’t anything you could do about it and Hawks knew it.

He pulled away and brushed your hair out of your face before gripping your chin between his index finger and thumb.

“Give us a kiss.”

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly -of-aly @rubyred-imagines 28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @davalia @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

#villain!hawks x reader #villain!hawks #hawks #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader x dabi #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #villain au #suggestive themes

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tea-cake-and-melancholy · 4 years

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Skull and Shackles-part one

Hello everyone! Stuck here in quarantine after finishing college (graduation, woot!) and decided to practice my heavily rusting fictional writing skills. Skull and Shackles is an Adventure Path from Pathfinder Roleplaying Game® owned by Paizo. The only thing I own is the original characters. Any writing advice would be welcomed. Hope you enjoy.

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This adventure does not start with the busy chatter of a tavern, no heroic call to arms against some great evil, not even with being arrested by a government that didn’t appreciate this group for sticking their noses where they don’t belong. This adventure starts with a dark room. The sensation of swaying and an incredible headache that may have either been accompanied by the taste that numbs the tongue or a whack. Impressment wasn’t just restricted to the Cheliax Navy, it extended to pirates as well. It’s been known that Press Gangs are known to skulk about inns, taverns, the streets at night and even pluck unsuspecting men and women from their very beds after a short chat concerning their sailing ability. That was the situation for this group of adventurers.

The first to awaken was a catfolk thief named Gumqu, a lanky feline looking humanoid creature with the head, paws, and tail of a cat. With grey peach fuzz and mismatched blue and gold eyes, she looked about to try and remember how she had gotten there. Ah, yes. She had just returned from her latest voyage on the “Old Renegade”, a ship that she had served for 5 years working on the rigging. Coming across a rather fat merchant ship, she decided rather foolishly to spend her earnings alone at the Formidably Maid a rather popular pirate tavern. Gumqu absent-mindedly rasped her tongue against her sleeve to take away the numbing and bitter taste off her tongue, feeling rather embarrassed to having fallen for such an old press-gang tactic. At least she can feel the outline of her thieves’ tools in her hidden pocket. Another from the pile stirred with a curse and a spit, human looking and irate to boot.

Anne Salis angrily looked about with dark eyes, cursing her luck and possibly fate for not being careful. Her husband always did warn her against drinking at the Formidably Maid with all those wayward pirates. Being the resident shaman for the Besmara, there was a priest though he took a 12-year fishing trip and had not returned yet, it wasn’t uncommon to getting free drinks from old salts who appreciated fair weather charms. She shook her headful of honey curls and clutched her unprotected scalp when the throbbing headache was aggravated by her swift movements. They took her hat but not her dagger in her belt, typical. She gnashed her sharp teeth and tried to stand but was prevented by the moving room and tangled bodied. Nevertheless, with that she inadvertently kicked a rather large half-orc in the ribs, shocking him to consciousness.

Ausk Oddfellow never failed to live up to his name. A shocking giant that can easily take up the length of the room. He slowly sat up while rubbing his now smarting side, looking like a picture out of those risqué nobles’ romance novels. Tall and muscular with a tiny waist, the symbol of Cayden Cailean (a flagon) hung around his neck and slightly messy black hair caused by the welt in the back of the head. He was tavern hopping, singing about various pirates and legends with his bestest best mate in all the world, Skender, who always works in his dark little alchemy shop. So, as any best friend would do, he dragged with away for a good time and maybe show him the meaning of fun. Well, on the way from Suffering Tiger Pub, The Boot and Helm, The Forest and Shield, Hovering Drake and The Clam and Whale Tavern, and the Formidably Maid, there was a scuffle in a dark alley between 2 blokes and a lady. Being the dashing bard that he is, of course he rushed to the rescue. Right before being knocked on the back of the head. Hard. He quickly looked around in panic! Where’s Skender?! As he is reaching over, his hulking green mass squished the figure next to him, causing an indignant shout.

Now Mordren Paella was typical for a pit-born tiefling; some had one or two minor imperfections that can be easily hidden or explained away, some are more…drastic. The only normal features she possessed was her height, black hair usually tied back and olive skin. Unfortunately, her abnormalities were drastic enough to detract from those features. From golden cat eyes, exposed fang-like teeth that frame her entire jaw, a left arm that resembled a blue dragon’s claw, bird’s legs to the barbed snake’s tail. Many had expressed that she was most likely the product of a god after a very heavy night of drinking. She was a witch that worked on various pirate ships as a cook. Never had a bad reference and no complaints with her small book of recipes that she can feel she still had on her person. She had left her hometown of Ilizmagorti, due to the heightened Red Mantis activity, to Port Peril. To celebrate, she went for a small meal and drink for the smooth trip. Seeing some sketchy characters at the corner of the tavern she and decided to leave, until the world started spinning and the floor was incoming fast. Nearby her was a rather angry “Must you be such a bumbling bugbear? Move over, you green lummox” a thwack barely missing her head and swatting the half-orc’s back.

The person in question was Skender Korzha; a half elf with mocha skin and high contrasting white tattoos on his arms that appeared arcane in origin. His black hair was halfway taken out of his ponytail and he feels a crick in his lower back after hours in an odd position. He knew that he should not have gone out with Ausk. Nothing ever goes well when he goes out with him. Granted, he is a flamboyant, needlessly boisterous, optimistic glass ¾’s full kind of bard but really he’s not a bad friend. However, based on the pounding headache and possible concussion, he’s gotten them into trouble again. He needed that brain, damn it. He checks himself to find what he had left, only to find a health kit. Wonderful. Trying to pull himself to sit up, he felt his sleeping leg being weighed down by someone who may just have beaten his friend in height.

The last in this room was a peculiar species of troll called the Va’al, hailing from the islands closer to Freeport. Though not nearly as muscular as Ausk, Hau'ri’s musculature was overshadowed by the sheer height. This was hidden by him being currently curled on the floor of this room. He slowly sits up and rubs his sore jaw, luckily his tusks were still intact for they were a pain to regrow, almost as bad as a leg or the inconvenience of a missing finger when you only have a max of 3 to start with. The only hair was the short light blue fur covering him from head to toe, bat like ears ringing from the beating he received just the other…time? Honestly, he doesn’t know what time it, not that it matters. His amber eyes scanning the room, satisfied that there’s more than him in this situation. He clenches his fist and quickly hides the brass knuckles that he always kept on him, chuckling at his luck.

It was at that time; a series of heavy footsteps came from above to then slam the door open violently. Bright light pouring from the handheld lantern blinds everyone inside, causing some to curse and some to hiss in discomfort.

““Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!” roared the stranger. He stands tall in typical pirate garb, this human male had probably has seen salt water more often than clear water used for more than cooking or drinking. Skin cracked from long days in the sun and gold teeth gleaming in a cruel smile as he used his whip to motivate everyone onto their feet. This took a bit of time before the group proceeded to follow him up the stairs of the ship.

As they were walking, Anne spat on the ground to her right, finally deciphering the taste in her mouth as taggit oil. A favorite of press gangs if they think they can get away with it. Put it in spicy food or particularly strong grog and you have between 1 to 3 hours with a dead to the world body. Cheap, easy to obtain and hard to overcome when ingested. Both Hau’ri and Ausk must bend down to clear their heads from hitting the beams above.

Once they’ve reached the top they were once again blinded, this time by the tropical sun hanging high in the sky. Looking about, they find themselves surrounded, 10 pirates not including the one that guided them there and ocean as far as the eye can see. Some were up in the rigging while others were scattered about on deck, all stopped to gawk at the new arrivals. Skender looks at the ship and can tell that it’s a three-masted sailing ship, 100 feet long from stem to stern, and 30 feet wide amidships. Decent but just one person short of manning it effectively without hardship. At the ship’s mainmast, on a high platform than the confused party in question, there stood two individuals. One was a broad, muscular human man with Garundi descent; a shaven head, long beard bound with braids and gold rings, and an eye patch. Based on his standing and finery, this was the captain in charge. The other to his right was a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o’-nine-tails.

The group was corralled towards the middle with 4 other recruits, a red headed human woman with a lovely tricornered hat, a muscular halfling brunette that could possibly bench-press Ausk, a human male with a blue varisian scarf wrapped around his head to protect his scalp and a rather fabulous male gnome bedecked in dandy purple attire. While the group was placed in a row, the captain smirked and finally addressed them.

“Glad you could join us at last!” his rasping voice bellowed over the crashing waves “Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine.” He made his way to walk away, paused and spoke over his shoulder, “Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg!” addressing the man with the ponytail “If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.” Before walking away from sight. The new overseer, Mr. Plugg, descends to the Amidships where they stood.

“Now” he unhooked the cat-o’-nine-tails from his belt as he surveys the crew-to-be. “Time to see where you lot belong.”

#Skull and shackles #pathfinder #RPG #My writing #Chapter 1 #pirates

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

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When You Least Expect It, Part Seven

Jensen x Musician!Reader; Nathan (OMC); Mama Mia (OFC)

Also featured this chapter: Rob Benedict, Briana Buckmaster, Jason Manns

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part seven is from BOTH POVs. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.

Series Playlist: “When You Least Expect It” (Spotify). Songs in this chapter include: “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around”; “What About Love”, “The Joker”; “Whipping Post”

Beta’d by @closetspngirl who has contributed so much to this fic! Thank you for not only indulging my lunacy but encouraging it with gusto! She also put together the amazing wardrobe shown in this chapter, as well. I don’t know what I would do without you!!!

Chapter Summary: Realizing that its time to leave NJ again to get back to work on the festival and have a much-needed conversation with Jensen, Y/N meets up with everyone at ChiCon. This gives finally gives her a moment with Jensen and an added bonus of playing with Louden Swain, featuring Briana Buckmaster, on stage for a crowded ballroom; something that affects Jensen more than he was expecting it too.

Chapter Warnings: Ehhh... nothing really.

WC: 9.5K

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online

It had been one month since Y/N left Austin and came back to New Jersey. One month of awkward texts with Jensen related only to work, daily calls or texts from Briana and at least one Skype or FaceTime call from Robbie every few days. When it came to the amount of work and scouting to be done for the festival, the little man was a bundle of nerves and Y/N was the only one who seemed to be able to talk him down.

February came, and that’s when the first real pangs of doubt began to creep in. The life she had begun in Texas was beginning to fade, and she found herself missing it. Y/N missed the townhouse and living so close to a city like Austin with the diversity in the restaurants, the bars, the bands, the nightlife… and of course, there was Jensen. She missed all of it. Not that life in New Jersey had been boring or lackluster. Y/N had gone back to work for Leo temporarily since she was handling both ends of the transactions now for the Brewfest. Being back in her small office in his hotel, living in the bungalow again felt good, but the longer the cold winds of winter at the shore blew through and chilled her to the bone, the more she really missed Austin.

It wasn’t all work, though. She had a couple of occasions to play at one of the bars that were still open in Seaside during the winter, as well as reconnect with a few friends from the Burlesque group. Y/N had even spent some time with Nathan, though when she did, she made sure to keep her guard up, be wary of any promises he made or plans he tried to get her to agree too. Reminiscing with him was a trap that was easier to fall into than she thought it would be, and after the third time they met for coffee, she invited him to go have dinner. Once or twice a week in the time she was home, she would run into him in town, or make plans to hang out. Y/N always tried to keep it in a public place, and never let him get too close. She was doing her best to follow Bri’s advice and figure out what it was she wanted from, not just Nathan, but life itself.

In between all of that, was Jensen. Y/N thought of him every day, and on more than one occasion picked up the phone to actually call him. However, knowing that he was traveling from Vancouver to conventions and back for the foreseeable future, she decided against it. After the way they left things, she thought maybe a random phone call wouldn’t be the best move and wanted to wait until she could see him face to face. When that would be, she didn’t know, but by the time Groundhog Day had rolled around, she felt ready to make it happen soon.

The morning she woke up with the intention to make arrangements to fly back, a winter storm warning had gone into effect, ultimately grounding all flights in or out of the area. Y/N knew the drill and began to run the errands necessary to hunker down for the long haul, getting supplies for two to three days at least. By the time she reached the bungalow and filled the small pellet stove in the corner of the room, the snow had started falling.

As a kid, seeing the beach turn from the beige sand, to white snow had always been sort of magical. Watching the waves crash and spray the icy mist into the swirling flakes made her feel like she was experiencing something majestic, and it always left her feeling a little whimsical and reflective. That’s what she was doing when she heard the knock at the door several hours later, just as the storm was hitting its peak.

Pulling the crocheted blanket around her shoulders, Y/N went to the front door and opened it enough to see who it was.

“Nathan?” she asked, then opened it further and with it came a burst of cold, snowy air. “Come in before the snow does.” She ushered him in and closed the door quickly. “What are you doing here?”

He removed his scarf and hat, shaking off the snow that littered his shoulders and boots. “I came by to make sure you were alright. Didn’t know if you realized that cell service is sketchy, wanted to be sure you had everything you needed.”

“Yeah, I saw the winter storm advisory last night, made sure to hit the market this morning. Don’t tell me you walked all the way here from Seaside Park. That’s a few miles at least.”

“No, I have my dad’s truck,” he said then paused before unzipping his coat. Y/N could see in his eyes he came not just to check up on her, but because he wanted to stay a while.

“I’m fine, Nathan. Just watching the snow, reading and staying warm. I have everything I need.”

“Ok,” he said and half turned back to the door, then faced her again. He wore that crooked grin that she used to love so much. “Well then, maybe you need some company?”

“Sure. But I am going to tell you now, you can’t stay the night. You have to leave before the sun goes down.”

“Of course, Y/N. I just thought we could hang out for a bit.”

“Want some tea?”

“No,” he laughed. “I hate that stuff. I’ll take a soda if you got any, though.”

“Sorry, fresh out,” she said, but there’s water or juice in the fridge.

“Sweet,” he replied as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack, then removed his boots before heading to the refrigerator and helping himself.

Y/N strolled back to the couch and reclaimed her place near the window that overlooked the ocean. She brought her knees up into her chest and watched Nathan as he moved about the kitchen and the living room just as naturally as he did in the old days. When he finally sat, he took the spot on the opposite end of the same couch she was on and rested his arm along the back of it.

Whenever Y/N and Nathan saw each other while she was visiting this time around, things were always awkward in the beginning. It didn’t matter if it was just for coffee, or on the few occasions that she actually let him take her to dinner. It was almost as if neither of them knew what to do with the situation or what to say to one another. But given enough time, they would end up finding a comfortable conversation.

Some of the time she’d watch him as he talked and recognize the man she used to love; same high cheekbones, same crooked smile, and sandy brown hair. Only now, his hair was short instead of the shoulder length it was when they were younger. His sky blue eyes were still able to lock her in and make her wonder how it had all gone so wrong between them. He had been the love of her life, her prince charming, the man who was going to save her from the kind of life that you grew up promising yourself you’d never live. But it had all gone so, so wrong.

She considered asking him, potentially broaching a long overdue conversation that they needed to have; especially if there was any possibility of a future. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to start. She tried to hide the smile that wanted to come when she wondered what Bri would say about that, but it quickly faded when she realized how much she missed Bri, too. That would make her thoughts circle back around to Austin, again, and how much she longed to go back.

“Hey, haven’t seen these in a long time,” he said and leaned forward, and plucked one of the photo albums from underneath the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah…” she replied and craned her neck over to see which one he picked up. They had been there since she showed Jensen the pictures from Grease, which now felt like a million years ago.

“Holy shit, high school pictures,” he laughed and started flipping through the album.

Over the course of the next hour, Y/N sat a foot or two away, yet enjoyed talking about old times with him. It felt good to laugh with Nathan again; it felt good to have her friend back. She didn’t notice that he was inching closer and closer until suddenly the arm that had been draped around the back of the couch was now brushing against her shoulder.

Nathan continued shaking memories loose; he brought up their junior prom, and how they had spent the night on the beach under the Tiki bar, getting drunk and screwing around until dawn before falling asleep together wrapped up in a blanket. She was smiling at the recollection, enjoying the feeling it brought back into her life when she felt his fingers toying with a tuft of her hair.

“I’ve really missed this,” he said softly. “A lot. I’m glad you’ve let me back in and gave me a chance to make it up to you.”

“Nathan, I… I don’t know--”

He inched closer, and what he did next surprised her. Before she could react, Nathan was brushing his lips against hers. Her eyes stayed open, but his drifted closed. It only lasted for a moment, but in that time Y/N realized that she knew everything she needed to know. She didn’t push him away, even though something inside of her told her too. Y/N kissed him back, but timidly, and without passion. His lips parted against hers, making it clear that he wanted it to escalate, but after a moment, Y/N broke away.

She retreated from him and brought her fingers up, pressing them gently to her lips. “Nathan... “

“Don’t, ok? Don’t say it was a mistake. Just, promise me that you won’t shut down on me. If I was being pushy--”

“It’s not that,” Y/N said and swallowed hard. “I care about your recovery, Nate. Seeing how well you’re doing has even allowed me to start forgiving you. But in the spirit of honesty, you should know that I’m not ready to be with you again. I don’t know if I ever will be. That doesn’t mean there is someone else. It means that I am going back to Austin, and I am focusing on work and don’t want anything sort of romantic entanglements.”

“Oh,” he sighed, clearly disappointed. “That doesn’t mean we have to say goodbye though, right? Can I still call you? Keep in touch?”

“Sure,” she said, and genuinely meant it. “As long as you understand, that, for now, I just want to be your friend.”

She watched him process this and had a second where she didn’t know how he would react. He wasn’t the same Nate she knew most of her life, and yet he wasn’t the last version she knew, either. Nathan was turning into a product of both of those men, and she was still learning his mannerisms and couldn’t always tell what he was going to do.

Nathan made it clear he wanted her back, and this rejection could be dangerous if he wasn’t as far into his recovery as he had said. But once his shoulders relaxed, and he picked his head up to meet her gaze, he smiled more like the Nate of long ago.

“Of course, Y/N. I get it. I’m going to keep showing you that you can trust me again though.”

“You just keep doing what’s best for you, Nate. That’s what would make me the happiest.”

Y/N’s cell began ringing in the with the familiar tone of Robbie’s FaceTime calls. She hesitated to answer it, but also didn’t want to miss out on a chance to talk to him knowing there were some meetings coming up they needed to prep for.

“Excuse me,” she said to Nathan and got up from the couch, pulling the cell out of her pocket as she did.

Y/N moved through the room and stood at the precipice of the hallway as she answered the call.

“Hey Robbie, what’s shakin’?” she answered in greeting.

“Thank God you picked up. When are you coming back, lady? I need you in Austin. I won’t be able to get back to there for another week or so. Any chance you’re heading back soon?”

“I’m working on it Robert,” she replied with a sigh. “The damned snow, however, has other plans.”

“Soon-ish, then?”

“Yes, my darling. Soonish. Honestly, as soon as the airports open up, I’m getting a ticket and will be on my way.”

“Did he tell you that the TCAC meeting was pushed back to the end of February?” Robbie asked into the camera, and the concern she saw on his face made her feel guilty.

“No,” she answered softly.

Her disappointment was not lost on Robbie. He hesitated, not wanting to make her feel worse, though he knew Jensen had been avoiding her. He didn’t have all the details about what happened between them but knew enough to know something had. “He’s been crazy busy, you know. Traveling like a lunatic. I’m sure he just forgot.”

“I’m sure,” she agreed and immediately wanted to change the subject. “So, the grant proposals? Any word?”

“Yes! Actually,” Robbie paused, relieved that she was the one to shift gears and shuffled through some papers that were off screen. He held up two and smiled victoriously. “We got two approvals! One from the Austin Creative Alliance and another just came through yesterday from one of the Federal ones. Buuuttt… can’t seem too…” he drifted off to the side, leaning out of the camera frame again.

Y/N chuckled. “Rob, it’s fine, come on back.”

She shifted away from the wall by the hallway and wandered into the kitchen to put the tea kettle back on the stove. As she did, Rob came back into view and noticed Nathan in the background of her call.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company. I won’t keep ya while I look for it.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah… that’s ok. My friend Nate dropped by to be sure I was stocked up for the storm. He’s leaving soon, so if you need to go over more stuff later, I’ll be here.”

“Oh great. The band and I are going in to talk to a guy about some stuff coming up, so maybe I will give you a call later. This way you can be totally caught up before heading back to Austin. Which reminds me… did you make your travel arrangements yet for Boston or San Diego?”

“Yes. I am heading to Boston, San Diego and Seattle starting end of February through March. Couple days in each to secure all the contracts with the vendors. Oh, New Orleans, too.”

“Perfect. That means you’ll be back and able to head to Chicago with us, right? Same weekend as ChiCon? Thought we could meet up there and go check out a few bands.”

“Works for me,” Y/N said, and then realized that there would be no avoiding Jensen that weekend.

“Fantastic, you’re a gem, you know that?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Robert.”

“Love it when you call me Robert,” he teased. “Ok, they’re yelling for me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Bye,” she chuckled and ended the video call. She returned the phone to her pocket and continued to fix herself a cup of tea.

“So, work friend?” Nathan asked, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen now that her call was through.

“Yes.”

“Nice guy?”

“Yes, he is.”

Nathan nodded, leaned back against the counter and noticed she had only one cup out. “If you wanted me to go, you could just say so. I mean, you told him I was leaving soon. One cup out…”

Y/N sighed softly and tried to not turn the visit sour. “I thought you hated tea? Besides, it’s getting late. As well as things have been between us, I am not ready for you to stay here. With the weather being what it is, you probably should head back to your mom’s. I’m sure she could use your help with your dad being laid up with his foot in a cast. Can’t be easy for her to manage this weather on her own.”

He nodded, though she could see him straining to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m not trying to shut you out, Nathan. I genuinely have enjoyed hanging out with you again. You know, after all that shit happened--with the fight, and your life spiraling out of control--I never thought you’d be you again. Or that I would even be able to stand to be in the same room as you. But, here we are. Can’t that be enough for now?”

Nathan’s shoulders relaxed. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Not if you want this to continue.” She was blunt, but she needed to be. Y/N didn’t want to take any chances where Nathan was concerned.

“Alright,” he finally replied and pushed off the counter. He went to take his coat off the hook and as he laced his arms through the sleeves, turned to face her again. “I’m grateful you’re giving me another chance, Y/N. I am. So, you call the shots, ok? I know you’re busy, but maybe once your traveling calms down, I can even come to visit you in Austin. Never been to Texas before.”

The idea of him in Austin felt strange. There was a sudden fear that if the two different parts of her life came together like that it would blow up her entire world in some glorious fashion. Trying to neither encourage or discourage the idea of his visit, she simply shrugged, found her most pleasant smile and nodded.

Nathan moved across the kitchen and took her in an embrace before she had the chance to say no. It was a familiar feeling; similar to what one experience when finding an old winter coat they hadn’t worn in years. It may not fit properly anymore, but the quilting of the fabric brought back pleasant memories.

“Call me, ok?” he said before releasing her.

“Sure thing. Take care of yourself, Nate.”

When Nate opened the door to go, the wind whipped through and the day’s fading light allowed him just enough time to get home before going completely dark. When the door latched shut behind him, she felt a mild sense of relief that she was alone again. There were still a lot of things she wanted to have time to mull over before returning to Austin, especially before seeing Jensen again in Chicago. The extended trip home had been good for her, despite the reasons she ended up there. It allowed her time to be sure that Austin and the job were the things she truly loved and wanted in her life.

Even the time she spent with Nate had been helpful in coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t something that had to stand in her way anymore. Her feelings for Jensen were still confusing and muddled, but in her heart, Y/N felt sure that her time as Nate’s girlfriend had come to an end. Though unexpected, the kiss they had shared that night cemented that. She could find room in her heart for him as a friend, but there was no future for them as a couple.

Lost in thoughts, Y/N didn’t move from the counter until the kettle began to whistle behind her. She flipped off the burner, and as she poured the hot water into the cup, she felt determined to settle the Jensen business. With so many of her other uncertainties fading away, she wanted this one too as well. Taking her cell phone back out of her pocket, she went to the contacts in her messaging app and pulled up “Mama”. If anyone could help her sort things out, it would be that tall drink of water.

<<Hey, any chance you’re around once snowmaggedon stops?

It only took about ten seconds for her to respond.

>>I’ve always got time for you, sugar. Whatcha thinkin’?

<<Rehearsal?

>>Cancelled.

<<Damn. Ok, snow should be done by midnight. Coffee at my place in the AM?

>>Be there with bells on.

<<Knowing you, I expect nothing less. Luv u!

>>Back atcha

The following morning dawned bright, with a clear sky and a snowy beach that reflected the colors of sunrise. Mama was knocking on Y/N’s door by quarter past nine, holding a pastry box in one hand and a garment bag in the other.

Y/N opened the door to greet her, and immediately broke out into laughter as she realized that Mama was wearing sleigh bells in her hair.

“You’re a freak,” Y/N laughed and gave the woman a big wet kiss on her cheek. “But you’re my freak.”

“Always and forever,” Mama purred lowly, winking at Y/N as she handed off both the pastry box and bag. “Dear Lord, I have not been here in forever! When was the last time?”

“God… it has to be last spring, maybe. Maybe even Christmas prior.”

“Either way, too long. Though I see you’ve kept the decor fisherman chic. Please, when will you let me redecorate for you?”

“One day, I promise. But for now, I have some things I want to talk to you about.”

Y/N moved around her small kitchen, pouring coffee and unveiling the apple crumb cake Mama brought from Freedman’s Bakery. The smell of apples and cinnamon instantly filled the room and mixed with the aroma of the coffee, Mama began to hum.

“Mmmm MM! It smells good in here. Like a little slice of heaven,” she sighed and pulled out one of the two chairs at the kitchen table. Just as she sat, she gratefully took the hot mug Y/N offered her. “What sort of things do you have on your mind?”

“Well,” Y/N started, then pulled out a seat of her own and began to slice the crumb cake. “I texted you last night because I had something on my mind. However, I couldn’t sleep last night, and I started thinking about work, and had something else entirely to talk to you about.” Y/N was rambling and Mama sensed she was probably already a pot deep into the coffee.

“Honey,” Mama said and covered Y/N’s hands to get them to stop fidgeting with the cake. “Slow down. First things first… what was on your mind last night?”

She hesitated, unsure of how to start. “I didn’t get to tell you because you were in Florida, but I went to a New Year’s party, back in Austin.”

“Ok, sounds fun. Continue,” Mama said and motioned towards her before sipping at her coffee.

“Right. Well, I guess I should start with saying that when I was home for Christmas, Nate showed up here Christmas morning. Then, I went back early so I could go to this party with Jensen. He kissed me at midnight and then I panicked and ran out.”

Mama coughed as she tried to swallow her coffee and then carefully placed the mug back on the table. She grabbed a napkin and wiped at the corners of her mouth like the old southern debutante that she had once been. Once she regained her composure, she sat up straighter and looked Y/N squarely in the eye.

“You best start from the beginning and leave no detail out. Because hearing that you spent an evening with that luscious man is one thing, but also hearing that dickhead’s name in the mix has soured the first bit. Explain yourself, please. What the hell do you mean that Nathan was here on Christmas? Why didn’t you call me?”

“He took me by surprise. He wanted to talk.”

“And you let him in?”

“Yes...” Y/N replied with a sigh, knowing she would get a barrage of crap from Mama for that.

“I’m in shock. After what he did to you!?”

“I know… I just… I don’t know. He wanted to apologize. He’s working the twelve steps--”

“Twelve steps? Ha! Twelve steps…” she muttered. “I didn’t realize you could twelve-step your way out of being a shithead.”

“I know he was terrible then, but for a lot of years he wasn’t and I guess I wanted to know if there was anything good left in him. I saw a glimmer of who he used to be.”

“We need to move on from Nate, cause honey, it just makes my blood boil.”

“Ok, so after he left, I went back to Austin a few days later and went to a party with Jensen. We’ve been getting along great, working together well, and he’s a lot of fun.”

“Yes, he certainly is,” she mused, her expression quickly fading from aggravated to dreamy. “Now I believe you mentioned something about a kiss…”

“He did. WE did… at midnight,” Y/N answered and couldn’t help feeling the twist in her gut that was now associated with that night.

“And?”

“And… it…”

“Y/N?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never felt anything like that. Ever.”

Mama’s face relaxed into a euphoric afterglow. “Please, dear, sweet Lord in Heaven tell me you let that man have his way with you.”

“No!” Y/N laughed and got up from the seat. She was feeling anxious about it all; mostly because she felt so stupid for having run away from him. “It was amazing, and then I got nervous. Someone walked in and it gave me a moment to basically lose my mind and run.”

“You left?!” Mama’s jaw dropped and she quickly stood from the table. “What the--Child, I should whoop your ass. First, you let Nathan in this house, then you run out on that precious Texas boy? It’s like I don’t even know you,” she huffed.

Mama, for a woman of her generous height and weight moved across the kitchen in a heartbeat and lightly smacked the back of Y/N’s head twice.

“One for lettin’ Nathan in, the other for running out on Jensen!”

“Ow,” Y/N whined and rubbed the back of her head. Her brow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Trust me, I wish I knew why I do what I do. One second we were… you know, gettin’ handsy, and the next minute…” she shrugged.

“That son of a bitch Nathan… he was on your mind, wasn’t he?”

“Partially. It was more than that though. I’ve had two relationships in my life, Mama. Two. Nathan, and he who shall not be named.”

“Mmmm, yes. I forgot you had your own Voldemort. But that was what... six months after Nathan left and lasted for less than a month? You can’t count him… especially cause I can’t even remember his name.”

“Whatever, my point is, that both of these relationships were toxic. The last thing I want right now is another go-round with getting my heart broken. I should never have dated after Nathan, so figured I would try a one night stand. It left me so cold and empty. I don’t want that, either. I didn’t want to ruin a good friendship with Jensen, or have it turn toxic.”

“Sug, I get that. But you can’t push your feelings away every time they try and wake you up.”

“Can’t I? I love this job, Mama. I feel like I finally found what I am meant to do. What if we slept together, and it got weird. I wouldn’t be able to work with him. Besides, it’s not even all that happened.”

“What else?” she sighed and rubbed at her temples. “This should have been a Bloody Mary breakfast.”

Y/N ignored her quip. “The next day I told him I wanted to talk. He said he was busy. So I stopped by to drop off some contracts and it turned out he was home. He lied because he didn’t want to talk.”

“That’s why you are back here, instead of living in Austin?”

Y/N nodded and watched with anxiety as Mama seemed to sift through a host of quiet thoughts before deciding how to respond.

“If I didn’t love you as I do... I would smack you again.”

“Why?”

“He lied? So what?! You ran out on him! You know what that’s gonna do to a man’s pride. Hell, anyone’s pride?! Sugar, you… you need to stop lettin’ that heart of yours dictate all your decisions. That man--I spent time with him, ok? I saw how he watched you on that stage. You didn’t. I saw how his face lit up, and that gorgeous grin spread from ear to ear. You mesmerized him.”

Mama took Y/N’s chin between her fingers and lovingly lifted her face so their eyes could meet. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t like that boy.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, almost pathetically. “I do like him. But I’m also very scared of him.”

Mama considered this for a minute and smiled at her friend. “Then, you need to go back to Texas, make amends, and rekindle that friendship you two had been startin’. I think that will be how you stop being so damn scared.”

“I have a flight out tonight,” Y/N said and laughed when Mama raised both fists into the air in celebration.

“That’s my girl!”

“I mean, I won’t see him for a while, but I think you’re right. I owe him an apology. I just hope he can forgive me.”

“I have no doubt that he probably already has. Now, that’s settled… Nat--”

“No. I’ve given him enough thought lately. I’d rather talk about my burst of inspiration that I had last night.”

“Which was?”

“You, the whole troupe… I want you to perform at the festival.”

Mama’s eyes grew large, her plump dimpled cheeks expanding as the smile unfurled across her painted pink lips. “Shut the hell up! Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean… I am still working out all the logistics, but, we have a few stages to fill and I thought who better than to take on one of the theaters for the Saturday night slot? Whatever you guys wanna do… it’s your call. We have a hotel all reserved for talent, so your accommodations are taken care of. And I am sure I could help you with the travel arrangements. I just need you guys to say yes, and you’re in.”

“Well slap my ass and call me Sally!” Mama cackled and smacked her knee; her southern lilt bolder than usual. “You best believe we’ll be there, suga!”

“Fantastic! I will get you all of the details as soon as I get back to Austin.”

“Well now, hold on one second… you know what’s funny,” Mama said and went into the living room to retrieve the garment bag she had brought with her. “I brought this today because I thought you may want it for something. Didn’t know what, but when Marie brought it into rehearsals last I was there, everyone agreed only you would be able to pull this costume off.”

She hung the hanger on the top door of the refrigerator and slowly unzipped the vinyl bag. Y/N softly gasped when she saw the frock Mama had brought her. It was a full-length strapless dress that had a corset top with a heart-shaped bustier with deep purple accents, streaming out into a black skirt that was shorter in the front and flowed out from the back. The skirt itself had black velvet swirls imprinted on the ebony material and heavily ruffled bottom that would give it an amazing look when it twirled.

“Mama…” she breathed and ran her fingers over the dark purple accents. “This is gorgeous.”

“It is. And in the bottom are the accessories. You have to wear this. At least once. And what a better place than at the festival. So, you agree to perform one number with us, then we will be there to fill your stage for an entire night.”

Y/N considered the offer and knew that she had to say yes. She hadn’t gotten to the point where she thought about her part in performing at the festival. Working behind the scenes had completely garnered all her attention, so this was the first time she gave it any real thought.

“Alright,” she said, “you win. I will take this back to Austin with me and put it aside for a night on stage with The Corsets. Do I get to pick the routine, or…?”

“Oh no, honey. I’m the Creative Director now,” Mama pinched her cheek and took her place back at the table. “Now, don’t think I am done talking about this whole Jensen situation. I wanna hear more details about this New Year’s Eve party…” She leaned back and sipped her coffee before taking a large bite of her crumb cake. “You best start talking.”

For the rest of the morning, Y/N caught Mama up on New Year’s Eve, including playing with Bri, hearing Jensen sing, the encounter with Dee all the way up to her moment in the game room. By the time the coffee was gone and the cake was only crumbs, Mama had heard the tale, soup to nuts, and sat there stunned, letting it all sink in.

They talked a while longer before Y/N realized the time and had to get ready to leave for the airport. Mama had hugged her tightly with both a warning and a promise before she left.

“I promise that we will put on one hell of a show for those Texans. But, in the meantime, stop being stupid and go kiss the cute boy. Let him know that you’re all in, even if it is a slow-moving gamble. You’ll regret it if you don’t. You hear? I’ll keep my promise to whoop you when I get to Austin if you don’t. Got it?”

“Yes, Mama,” Y/N laughed and embraced her again before watching her go out into the cold winter air.

Hours later, as she made her way through the airport and onto the plane, she felt good about going back. There were still a few lingering doubts about how she and Jensen would be with seeing each other again, but there was time to work on that. First, she needed to get back to Austin, her new home, and refocus herself completely on making the Brewfest as big, bold and beautiful as Jensen’s vision for it was. Outside of that, everything would just have to wait.

Much like Y/N expected, there wasn’t much of a chance to see Jensen through the rest of February and March. It was disappointing to her, mostly because she was really starting to miss him. His schedule in Vancouver changed last minute, which caused him to have to miss the Texas Creative Arts Council meeting as well as a few others he had intended to be at, in turn dashing her hopes of finally getting to talk face to face. Her own travel schedule picked up, as she zigzagged across the country meeting with business owners, sponsors, and supporters of the Hometown Brewfest extravaganza.

The frequency of text exchanges between them increased, and it gave her a glimmer of hope that they could still work through whatever they needed to. As the weeks carried on, and the dates of ChiCon inched closer, Y/N found herself growing more and more anxious about finally having that moment.

Two weeks before, the whole group was in Nashville for a con, while Y/N was wrapping up some last minute business in New Orleans. She was chatting with Rob about a band she found by happenstance, and during the video call, Jensen passed behind him in the background. Her heart lept up in her throat, though she successfully kept her outward demeanor calm and collected. Y/N watched as Jensen did a double take as he noticed her on the screen of Rob’s phone. Leaning over his friend’s shoulder, he shoved his face in the camera and smiled, gave a simple wave and then was called away before he could actually speak.

It was enough to give her that final boost of confidence that they would be ok, but she still desperately needed to clear the air with him. That, however, wouldn’t happen for another two weeks when she found herself pacing the backstage area of the hotel in Chicago where the stars of Supernatural were gathering in preparation for a weekend full of panels, photo ops and a jam-packed concert with Robbie’s band.

Y/N had arrived that Saturday morning well after the festivities had gotten underway. Bri was the first person who she found and was greeted by an over-exuberant hug and the subsequent barrage of questions about everything under the sun. She was quickly whisked away to her panel with Kim, leaving Y/N holding her credentials and aimlessly wandering around the hotel. That was until she found herself on a mission to finally locate and talk to Jensen.

The extra wide hallway of the hotel outside the green room was carpeted with the ugliest yellow, gold and blue carpeting Y/N had ever seen. Though, as she paced it back and forth, she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Eventually, she found herself pacing along the blue lines that intertwined between the yellow and gold diamond pattern. As ugly as it was, it was somehow keeping her nerves at bay. She could run into Jensen at any time now, and it took all of her willpower not to just turn and run… again.

She wouldn’t though. Her and Jensen needed to set things straight. She didn’t know if this was the way to do it, or what she would say exactly, but she knew it had to be done. Y/N had gotten a peek at his schedule when she checked in and got her credentials to be able to come and go as she pleased. He would be in the green room now, or at least on his way there. So that’s where she headed.

Y/N stalled once she reached the green room door, deciding that maybe just barging in and demanding he talk to her was a bad idea. That’s when the pacing started again and continued for several minutes. She bit on her lower lip and closed her eyes, hanging her head and trying to decide what to do.

She continued walking, but with her eyes closed, she didn’t realize she was walking off her pattern, and straight into oncoming people.

“Whoa there!”

Y/N looked up, and in horrific slow motion, realized she ran square into Jensen’s chest. His hands had gently grabbed her shoulders when they collided, and they lingered there now as recognition touched his features one by one. Seeing him again after so long felt like a shock to her system; her mouth went dry, and she could feel her hands starting to tremble. When she tried to swallow, it stuck like a lump in her throat cutting off the air to her brain and making her feel light headed.

“H-Hey,” she breathed.

“Robbie said you were gonna be here,” he said, then nervously ran his tongue out and over his bottom lip. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, still unsure of what to say. “How’ve you been?” Her words were hesitant and staggered; her gaze unable to break from his.

Jensen finally realized his hands were still on her shoulders and quickly let go.

“Good. Busy, but good. You?”

“Better now that--”

The green room door opened with a bang, startling both Jensen and Y/N. Half a dozen people funneled out, mostly hotel staff, but Robbie was among them.

“Just who I was looking for!” he exclaimed and walked over to them. “You,” he said pointing to Jensen, “have about two minutes before Rich is gonna call you up for your panel with Misha. And you,” he turned to Y/N, “need to come with me while I got a quick ten minutes and figure out where we are going tonight if there’s time. There are a few clubs we gotta hit between tonight and tomorrow.”

“Can you just give us a minute, Rob?” Jensen asked him, and yet, his eyes still didn’t waver from Y/N’s gaze.

“Uh, sure. I’ll be right over there, Y/N.” He looked hesitantly between them, and quietly stepped back and around the corner.

Jensen cleared his throat and turned back to her, unable to disguise just how nervous he was. “About what happened… I wanna, I mean, we should talk, but I do gotta go right now--”

“Right, of course,“ she said, taking a step back from him and suddenly scared to say what she wanted to. “We can do it another time.”

“Later, you’re scouting bands tonight with Rob? Sounds fun. Maybe if you’re not back too late--”

“Mr. Ackles!”

A small blonde haired woman popped her head from around the other end of the hallway and waved frantically for him to come.

“I gotta run,” he said but took a beat to hold her gaze a little longer. It took the impatient little woman at the end of the hallway calling him again, to get his feet moving.

Jensen took a few steps in the direction he had to go, then turned to face her as he walked backward down the corridor. He chuckled nervously and Y/N felt a rush of relief when she realized he seemed truly happy to see her.

“Don’t go far, okay? The panel only lasts about an hour. Maybe we could talk after? I’d really like too--”

“Jensen, please, the panel is starting!” The woman was pleading with him now.

“I’ll be around, Hollywood. Come find me,” she shrugged, trying to be calm, cool and casual. Y/N held back as best she could, but Jensen got the idea that she was happy to see him, too.

“You got it, Trix. I’ll come to find you.” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, and as he continued to walk away from her, Y/N could hear his happy chuckle fade down the hallway. Just before he turned and disappeared completely, he paused and gave Y/N a wink before heading off to his panel.

When he had disappeared around the far corner, she sighed heavily and laughed to herself, completely overcome with relief. A moment later she heard Robbie walk up behind her and clear his throat.

“Everything go ok?” he asked hesitantly.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah,” she said and did her best to stow the overwhelming relief she had over that encounter with Jensen. “I think we’ll be good.”

“Good,” Robbie said and slung his arm over her shoulders. “Now, let’s talk about the weekend, shall we?” He turned her around and guided her in the opposite direction.

The panel, one that he normally loved doing, felt like an eternity on that particular Saturday afternoon. Jensen and Misha answered questions, engaged in their usual banter, and of course, made a room of hundreds of people scream and laugh with delight. He did his best to maintain his normal energetic vibe, but even Misha could see that his mind just wasn’t in the game.

Instead, Jensen’s mind was firmly stuck on Y/N.

She was there, in the same city, in the same hotel just a few hundred feet away. All he wanted to do was go and see her, talk to her, hash this dumb shit out that made them lose three months of getting closer; three months of seeing her smile, hearing her voice and getting to know more about her.

Jensen was pissed at himself for weeks after New Year’s Day. Regardless of whether he had the right to be upset at her or not, he reverted to his petty and childish demeanor, where women were concerned, and he beat himself up for it. His knee jerk reaction to her running out had everything to do with Dee, and not so much Y/N herself. He needed to tell her that’s why he lied about something so stupid to avoid her. Y/N would understand… that’s what made her different.

Y/N had made the effort, hadn’t she? She came to leave the envelope, and in it was her plea to talk to him. She wanted to explain herself, but at that moment he just couldn’t let her. Then she ran back to New Jersey so fast, which initially made him angry. But it didn’t take him long to realize that she’d been through just as much bullshit with her past as he had, and instead of being angry, he should try and sympathize.

Weeks later he happened to talk to Rob who’d mentioned in passing that he had a FaceTime call with Y/N. It had been in the middle of the snowstorm towards the end of January that she told Rob she would be coming back to Austin. That wasn’t all though, was it? As Jensen sat on the panel stage, and half listened to Misha tell a story about his daughter that made the crowd roar with laughter, he was thinking about the guy hanging out with Y/N while she was home; the one Robbie saw in the background that day. As if on cue, he laughed at Misha’s story, joining in with the rest of the ballroom, but on the inside, he was simmering with jealousy.

Jensen wondered if that was the same “old friend” that showed up at her place on Christmas, and of course, couldn’t help but be curious if that guy was part of why she’d run out on him. Swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat, he continued on with his Q&A with the fans and tried to forget it for the time being.

Finally, the panel had come to an end, with it also being their last panel of the day. Misha was escorted to his last set of photo ops, while Jensen was able to head back to the green room, hoping that he would once again bump into Y/N.

The hallway where he had left her was now empty, as was the green room. He considered calling her and asking where she was, but instead texted Rob and asked if they were still together.

<<Hey man, is Y/N still with you?

>>Nah, she went to check a few places out while it was still light out. She’ll be back for SNS.

Jensen sighed and sent back a quick reply, then tucked his phone away and headed back to his own room to get ready for that night’s concert.

Louden Swain took the stage around nine that night. They played through a few of their originals, and then a handful of covers with some of the cast. Jensen knew he’d go up for a couple of songs, but he was holding out until the end so he could catch Y/N.

“Hey handsome,” Bri greeted, coming up alongside where Jensen was sitting, startling him out of his thoughts. “How’d your day go today?”

“Great,” he said with a tired smile. “Long day though. How about you?”

“Oh you know, fantastic. Kim and I kicked ass. Had some great ops… a cocktail or two in between. You know, the usual.”

“That’s my girl,” he teased and then perked up thinking she could help him. “Any chance you’ve seen Y/N around?”

“Yes! Earlier today when she first came in, then about five minutes ago. She’ll be here in a second, why? Got something you need to say to her? Hmmmm?” Bri raised one perfectly manicured brow at him, challenging him to open up a bit more.

“Yes. Actually, I do.”

“Good boy. I know she wants to talk to you too--” From the stage, Bri heard her cue to go up with Robbie for her song. “Look, she’s around. Talk. To. Her. Then, keep her close, I’m gonna need her.” She wiggled her brows and stuck her tongue out playfully before bounding up the short set of steps that would take her backstage.

Jensen chuckled as she disappeared behind the curtain and out to the roar of applause from the crowd. He tried to think of what he would be doing that night with the band. Jason was playing too, and they talked about The Joker and maybe Whipping Post. He closed his eyes and ran through both songs, half hearing Robbie and Bri singing “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” coming from the stage. He certainly didn’t hear Y/N and she came from around the corner and stood in front of him.

“Hey stranger,” she said softly. Despite the music coming from close behind him, he heard her perfectly.

Jensen opened his eyes and thought maybe he was just imagining her there. She looked different than she had earlier. Gone was her T-shirt and ripped jeans, a look that he really loved on her. Now she wore the tight blue jeans and knee-high boots with a black and white, long sleeve peasant-style blouse that was loosely tied at the neck and open enough to accentuate her cleavage. Jensen had a split-second thought about what she had on beneath it before he was able to make himself speak again.

“Hey yourself,” he breathed, standing up from the platform he was sitting on. “How’s your, uh, you know, how’s it--”

“I’m good, Jay. Robbie asked me to come back for the concert. Glad you stuck around. Are you going up there tonight?”

Jensen nodded, suddenly tongue-tied and unsure of what to say.

“They sound great,” Y/N motioned towards the stage and took a few steps closer. “That’s a great song.”

“It is,” he said, but needed to say more and was tired of waiting. “Y/N,” he paused and waited for her to face him. She did, and he could tell she knew what he was about to say. “About New Year’s…”

“Jay, wait. Before you say anything… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for running away like I did. I shouldn’t have--”

“It's okay. I shouldn’t have lied about the stupid movie. It was all so…”

“Stupid?”

“Childish. I guess I could give you a laundry list of reasons--”

“But they wouldn’t matter,” she said quietly and cast her gaze down to her feet. When she looked up at him again, he saw something in her face that made him relax and understand she wanted to move on as badly as he did.

“Yeah. Can we just,” he sighed and shrugged, “just get back to being friends?”

“Yes. I want that, more than anything,” she sighed in relief.

“Good,” he breathed and took a hesitant step closer to her. Y/N stepped in and put her arms around his neck to hug him. Though it took him by surprise, he didn’t waste a second in returning the embrace. She felt so good in his arms as they snaked their way around her waist. It took a lot of willpower on his part to stop himself from nuzzling his face into her neck and drawing in a deep breath of her scent.

From the stage, the music shifted and while the band kept playing, Bri popped her head through the curtain and saw Y/N with Jensen.

“Hate to break up this very much needed moment, but Y/N, I need you up here please.”

Jensen reluctantly released her and saw the scheming look in Briana’s eyes. He narrowed his gaze at her, and she just slyly winked. “Come on slowpoke! They’re waiting.”

“Who’s waiting?” she asked, looking curiously between Jensen and Bri.

“Everyone…” Bri replied and swept back the curtain so Y/N could see the audience.

“What? Oh no, I didn’t--I’m not--”

“You are, and you can. Come on, lady! Time to get your cute little ass up here and sing on stage with me and Robbie.”

Y/N looked to Jensen to save her, but he just shook his head. “Oh no, I’m with Bri on this one. Like I’d ever pass up a chance to watch you on stage.”

Realizing she was being ganged up on, Y/N sighed as her chin fell to her chest in defeat and she made her way up the small set of stairs. “I hate you both,” she chided and both Bri and Jensen rolled their eyes.

Jensen watched from backstage as she got up next to Robbie who was on the mic and introduced Y/N to the crowd. When he spoke about the Brewfest the crowd cheered, and it was the first time Jensen understood just how much work she’d been putting into it, not just into organizing things, but getting the word out to the public about the upcoming event.

Robbie leaned over and whispered something in her ear, Y/N nodded and faced the crowd, giving them a wave. Jensen saw how they seemed to love her already and they hadn’t even heard her sing yet. Robbie faced the band and signaled the next song as the familiar beat of Heart’s “What About Love” kicked in.

Y/N started to sing, and Jensen felt his knees go weak. It had been a while, too long he would say if someone had asked him since he had heard her sing. She fell right into the groove with the band, completely unaware of how sexy and majestic she was on the stage. Bri was beside her, sharing the verses and singing harmonies together. They blended effortlessly with Robbie’s voice, too. Y/N held the notes and used her strong bravado to carry them out, once again making the crowd go wild.

Hints of jealousy filled Jensen, but not because of the reaction she was garnering, but because he wasn’t on stage next to her. How could he have not sung with her yet? At least strummed a guitar while she sat across from him, her tender pitch humming along with whatever he was playing. It suddenly became of utmost importance to him to share a stage with her, but for now, he just hung back and relished in the way her voice made him feel. Anyone that saw him watching her would know that he was so clearly infatuated with this girl, and almost nothing would have pulled him away.

As the song wound towards the end, Jason breezed past Jensen, smacking his shoulder along the way.

“Almost ready, brother? Gonna kick it off with ‘The Joker’, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Just like we said, call me in when you’re ready.”

“You got it!” Jason replied before running out on the stage.

Jason handled the first chorus, and during the musical interlude, he brought Jensen up and he easily slipped into the version of himself he brought out on the Saturday Night Specials. He noticed that Briana and Y/N were still up there, yet off towards stage right, and singing along with the chorus of the song. Jensen casually strolled in their direction, just feeling the need to be as close to Y/N as possible. The moment the music came back around to where he picked up the song, happened to be the same moment that Jensen walked around behind her, then was at her side. Without giving it a second thought, he draped his arm around her shoulders and sang the lines directly to her… their eyes locked as if he was speaking solely to Y/N and not to a room of hundreds of people.

“You’re the cutest thing I ever did see…

Really love your peaches wanna shake your tree

Lovey-dovey lovey-dovey lovey-dovey all the time...

Oooey baby I sure show you a good time…”

The song played on, and eventually, he moved back across the stage and sang out to the crowd. But the expression that came to rest on her face was not something he would ever forget. He caught glimpses of her smiling as her eyes followed across the stage. He liked how it felt for her to watch him; he felt uninhibited and free to be himself.

When it was over, he was disappointed as Bri grabbed Y/N’s hand now that their turn on stage was done. They waved to the audience and the band transitioned into “Whipping Post” while they exited through the back.

As Jensen belted out line after line of The Allman Brothers song, he wished Y/N had stayed out there with them and secretly hoped she was watching from backstage. Thank God he was singing a song he knew without having to think about because all his mind could really focus on was how good it felt to have her back around. At that moment, Jensen had felt better than he had in a very long time.

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#jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader insert #jensen ackles fanfics #when you least expect it

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icybeanheadcanons · 7 years

Note

What would generic headcanons be for the Grillby of each AU? He's usually a close second for side character that gets asked about a lot, so this will hopefully help you feel out each one 💖 (I'll probably send one in tomorrow or something about the Gasters as well ^~^ Figured this would give you a thing to work on in spare time if your inbox empties again) ~

So for the skellies I had worked on them from undertale and down the list okay… Well for the Grillbys… I worked from Horrortale up to Undertale. It just worked and it was a wild experience honestly. These are long so I’m putting them under the cut so the post doesn’t look fucking ridiculous.

Undertale

Solemnby

-he’s pretty professional at work

-runs a bar still. Took a while to open BUT DAMN IT HE DID IT.

-he’s a decent height in human standards. He’s 5’11. It’s weird having people taller than him, even if he’s not the tallest around it’s still surreal.

-god damn it Classy Bean. The only reason he likes puns is because of this skeleton.

-a great listener.

-gives some pretty solid advice.

-bit of a smartass. “Man I’m tired.” “Maybe you shouldn’t stay up all night then.” “stop talking shit carl.”

-Classy Bean calls him carl time to time to annoy him. It works.

-his bar is relatively chill. Not a lot of people, and it doesn’t attract a whole lot of shady characters. Weirdos seem to be common though.

-He actually loves the liveliness of his bar. It’s perfect and he’s a proud smol business owner.

-He hires someone to do the dishes because that’s a thing he needs done. Besides that he runs it mostly himself.

-a hard worker, gets a little irritate with people who slack off but he isn’t one to snap at you for it. He just doesn’t get not giving your all.

-sarcasm. “I’m going to flip a table!” “Yes because that’ll solve all your problems.”

-He isn’t as quiet as you think and often will give a snarky comment like i’ve mentioned above.

-classical music is nice, and he often listens to it in his free time.

-mom friend who will talk sense into you.

-He says a lot of weird shit when he’s tired though like he suddenly becomes a shitpost generator.

-he’s got an average control of his heat he releases. It tends to heat up when he’s angry and flustered, and it takes a lot of discipline to control.

-don’t worry he’s not gonna burn you but if he starts heating up your skin is gonna turn pretty red.

-a pretty organized dude. Everything has a place. He doesn’t care about a mess, but he generally doesn’t make a whole lot of one before he’s cleaning again.

Underfell

Jerkby

-kind of a dick god.

-big ego. Undeserved. There is no reason for him to be this god dam cocky what the hell.

-His friendship with Red Boy is weird. It’s that one where you insult each other without meaning it. “Stop fucking drinking all the fucking mustard you freak.” “Not till you stop getting freaky with everyone that comes into this bar Jerkby.” at the end of the day they’re there for each other.

-he does sleep around a lot. Mostly one-night stands. He’d date but he hasn’t found anyone he’s really interested in that way. He’s a jerk but he’s not going to fake being interested in someone romantically god.

-Oh goodness me toll. 8 feet tall. Big fire man. Depending on how sensitive you are about your height he’s going to tease you. Are you an adorable mad or do you look like you have rabies mad?

-can he do anything besides smirk? Pssh no. Genuine smiles are rare and fleeting.

-He gives 0 fucks. He does what he wants. Within reason of course he’s not an animal.

-never killed anyone. Beat the fuck out of people? Hell yes. Nobody fucked with him. He was ruthless and no monster was ever brave enough to try and take him down. Or strong enough.

-How the fuck is fire ripped. Seriously why is he buff? Magic? PSSSSSHHH. Fine. Okay whatever.

-But seriously he’s startling strong.

-his main coat he wears looks like a pimp coat what the fuck. Are you a pimp? Don’t ask him this he’ll punch you in the face.

-whoa, amazing control of his heat. Like whoaaaaaaaaa. Witchcraft… shut up i know he’s made of magic. YOU GET THE POINT.

-a small fondness for animals. He feeds the cats in the alleyway.

-Speaking of alleyways. He’s not an entirely edgy jerk. When he was closing up he found a few homeless people digging in the dumpster behind his bar. He yelled at them and stopped them from running. He brought them inside grumbling and gave them a proper meal. He does this time to time after closing.

-Lets stray animals sleep in the bar after hours during the winter. He spends extra time cleaning because of this.

-his bar is practically a sauna alright it’s always super warm and it’s mostly because of him. He generally counteracts it with air conditioning.

-if people get rowdy in his bar and don’t listen he threatens to turn off the air conditioner. He has done this before. It gets people to suffer fairly quickly.

-not a whole lot gets to him but if you manage to push his buttons he’s quick to anger.

-PAY YOUR FUCKING TAB. He’ll hunt you down he swears to g o d.

Underswap

Sweetby

-sweet silly laugh. But laughs at inappropriate times or at inappropriate things

-He forgets heat control. Humans start sweating around him and he wonders why they all look all uncomfortable. Oh right! Silly him!

-Runs a cafe, and serves the sweetest cakes and pies in existence.

-his favorite thing to enjoy is apple cider. He can’t drink it because ow, but he enjoys the smell. Has occasionally tried to drink it because he can’t help himself he’s curious.

-Shortie. 4’8. He’s the perfect size no matter what you say.

-if you insult him he just frowns and stares at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. You’re suddenly apologizing and his demeanor shifts to a more cheerful one.

-if you’re mean you’re getting kicked out of his cafe. None of that. Nope. He’s the only menace in his cafe and that’s just because he’s trying to spoop people!

-Will use the cutest words. He adores them they make him giggle.

-Is very happy and cheerful, and loves the little lava monsters that live with him. They help run the cafe and often attract customers.

-The more the merrier in his cafe! He gets money to help his family (the lava monsters) and he gets colorful characters that he likes to chat with.

-Sweetby is a nickname that was given to him from Honey Bear. He loves it because it sounds like Sweet pea (it’s a pun actually which makes him giggle) and calling someone sweet pea is just precious and adorable.

-Adores pastels, and because of this he has the cutest cafe in the entire town.

-Sweetby has a no tolerance policy for a lot of things. Racist? Get the fuck out. Sexist? Get the fuck out. Hate gay people? O u t. He’s having none of that nasty business in his shop.

-would love to shake your hand but he doesn’t want to burn you so he’ll give you an enthusiastic wave. He’s also the type to want to kiss the back of your hand after shaking it, but with his issues with heat control, he simply blows you a kiss and gives a small wink.

-he’s very charming. Despite his odd remarks that are honestly kind of terrifying if you don’t know him very well, he’s lovely company.

-lolita fashion is adorable. He wouldn’t wear it himself, but anyone he does he completely gushes over their outfit.

-a small passion for clothes.

-has this really charming coy smile, and a lot of his regulars seem to have a small crush on him at the very least. He takes advantage of this to get them coming back again and again. He doesn’t lead them on and flirt back but he’s always very polite and kind.

Swapfell

Gruffby

-doesn’t talk much. Only for business.

-Was an arms dealer. When he did sell them to a monster he generally just ended up killing them, gathering the weapons back up and pick the rest of the cash out of the monster’s dust.

-Also ran a shooting range. Monsters were allowed to come let out frustrations. Sometimes he just had targets other times he had weaker monsters as the targets. He didn’t kill these customers since they kept on coming back.

-Nobody fucks with him. Nobody. Gruffby is hardcore and does crazy ass shit.

-bit of a temper. He flares up, scoffing. That’s about it. Not unless you provoke him.

-Provoking him is the worst thing you could do you will die a slow and painful death. What? That’s illegal? He’s angry about this now.

-there are tiny lava fire monsters living in his pockets. He’s a softy for them.

-runs a hunting for game store. (ya know like deer and elk.) He’s happy he can still sell guns, and he is very serious about his business.

-Reserves the right not to sell guns to people. If someone looks sketchy to him then you’re not getting a fucking gun dude. No. You’re yelling like a maniac at him only proves his point. Get the fuck out of his store.

-Do you got a license for that? Buddy ol pal if you don’t…. The cops are on your ass, he’s taking your shit you don’t have a license this is literally him doing the community a service. Yeah he’s a monster who’s killed but that’s not legal on the surface.

-Ends up learning about all sorts of horned animals and birds. He’s gotta know exactly what his guns are being used for to shoot.

-The tiny lava monsters like to get into a pack of bullets and melt them down. Hey you lil fucks what did he say about touching the merchandise? He’s putting them in a time out. You heard him go to the corner.

-The lava monsters crackle at him. He crackles back. It seems like they’re hissing each other.

-At home he falls asleep with the tiny monsters laying all around him.

-he has a really silly sounding giggle laugh.

-DON’T YOU LOOK AT HIM WITH THOSE PUNS. DON’T YOU DARE. he loves puns but hates his laugh.

-he can’t control his eccentric laugh so if you crack a joke he thinks is funny he’s losing his cool.

-friends with Scaryberry. He’d gotten lost in Hotland when visiting Alphys. He could see the fear as he was trying to maintain his bratty and “intimidating” behavior. He didn’t know what got a hold of him but he found himself serving him some tea.

-Loves tea. He doesn’t really get to enjoy it like he wants to but he at least enjoys the aroma of it.

-Scaryberry got him to quit smoking.

-pretty tol. He’s 6’4. If you’re short he’s going to tease you relentlessly but honestly he thinks it’s cute. Part of what he loves about Scaryberry.

-he likes sweet scents. They’re intoxicating and he adores them.

-He has about a billion candles okay, he really likes different smells.

-He’s actually secretly a huge dork that he hides with his edginess.

Horrortale

Smores

-Chillingly silent. He doesn’t like to talk a whole lot so he’s selectively mute. When he does speak it’s but a few words.

-His voice is raspy, almost like a whisper and you can hear that familiar sound of a campfire.

-For a fire he’s rather cold, literally, as a fire monster it’s alarming how much heat he lacks.

-Knows sign language and will sign rather than speak. Even if he does speak he’s signing at the same time.

-He’s fragile… He isn’t a healthy fire but one that seems to be at the brink of going out at any time. It affects his voice and his body temperature.

-spent his time in the underground hiding away after everything went to hell and his bar shut down. By the time they got out he was on the brink of death before Axe found him.

-Is still recovering mentally and physically from the underground. It took a great toll on him.

-He’s used to food being taken from him, and is a bit of a pushover. He doesn’t have the physical strength to fight back, and he doesn’t have the voice to scare anyone off. He has to suffer in silence since most monsters don’t know sign language.

-he’s angry when people take things from him. All he can do is glare at least that’s what he believes. If he’d done more in the underground at his state he would’ve been killed.

-he spaces out often and frequently. He often becomes out of touch with reality and needs constant reminds as to where he is.

-he’s smol for a monster from his au. With his decrease in strength he shrank and is a 5 foot tall bab.

-He still has bit of a bite when you talk to him, sarcastic and a bit of a smart ass at times.

-He talks in a rather cryptic way like he knows something bad is going to happen. He’s just trying to spook you. He doesn’t know shit. But it sure gives him a giggle seeing that disturb look in your eyes.

-Visits the hospital often. He’s willing to admit he needs help. He’s kind of dying so he’s constantly getting health scares and check ups.

-he enjoys Axe’s sense of humor. Axe visits him from time to time still when he has to stay overnight at the hospital. It reminds him of when the days were good.

-Since he can’t do a lot of things he’s started taken an interest in music. He has an odd selection of music, Melanie Martinez being one of many that appeals to him. His music is rather dark and unsettling, and there are a lot of strange and kind of out there songs he collects. This kind of brings him a bit of peace.

-It takes a while for paper to burn around him now. It scares him. He avoids paper at all costs unless he gets morbidly curious about how bad his health is doing. The longer it takes to burn the worse he is. He doesn’t need a reminder.

-Some days he finds he can’t get out of bed. It’s frustrating and he cries hot tears. He feels so broken and useless on these days. He’s hoping to be able to recover but some days he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to.

-because of his disabilities he’s fallen into depression. He’s still adjusting to everything and suddenly being unable to do things has taken a toll on his mental state which is already pretty damaged.

-He’s fascinated with violins. Their shape is gorgeous, their strings seem like they’re delicate to him but they sound loud and beautiful. He wants to learn to play but if he does recover he will never be able to play again since he’d set the instrument on fire. So he admires from a distance.

-loves alice in wonderland of every shape and form. He relates more to the darker versions though.

-he’s slowly losing memories from the underground. The more they slip away the more it scares him. He isn’t sure this is how he wanted to heal. When he realizes he loses another memory he recounts what he can. Those are… Pretty fuzzy memories…

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forgot-to-breathe-again · 6 years

Text

Miss Jackson

Hey guys, just a little short story I wrote inspired by the song Miss Jackson by Panic! at the Disco. The band owns all the rights to the lyrics, music, etc. Enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut, mild swearing, mentions of sexual assault.

Word count: 4k

“Climbing out the back door, didn't leave a mark. No one knows it's you, Miss Jackson. Found another victim, but no one's going to find Miss Jackson.”

. . .

The hotel – if you could call it that – was nothing if not suspicious. Dark windows, chipped paint, and flickering outdoor lights suggested an equally run-down interior. The adjacent bar was dimly lit and seedy looking. Cloaked figures lurked in corners, sipping tepid beer and casting shifty gazes at one another. Every now and then you could see the glint of cold metal; a concealed gun, or perhaps a knife. Every man in the joint looked as if he’d rather kill me then say hello. I didn’t test the theory.

I walked up to the bar and sat down on the stool. Rickety and suspiciously damp… how inviting. The bar tender, a disheveled young man wearing a tattered button-up, ambled over. He seemed in no rush to serve me.

“Whaddaya want, mister?” His New York accent, which I’d become accustomed to over the months, was very thick. A lit cigarette hung from his lips.

“Just some water for now, I’m waiting for someone.”

He smirked. “You ain’t from around here. The west coast, right? Could tell by your accent. Anyways, the locals don’t drink the water.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette. “Some guy died from bacteria a few years back. The city looked into it, did nothing about it.”

“Fine, I’ll take a beer.”

“Any beer?”

“What have you got?”

“Only one.”

“Great, I’ll have that.”

“Good choice,” he drawled sarcastically. The man shuffled away to get my drink.

I observed the stained countertops and peeling wallpaper with disdain. I never liked this neighborhood. You could find all sorts of riffraff shuffling around on the streets. And at night, when the only light came from a single decrepit streetlamp, the distant sounds of screaming and gunshots could be heard. It was a cesspool. But she specifically stated that we had to meet here. Probably because this hotel housed all sorts of low-lives; what copper would notice one more?

The man returned with a pint of beer. Smudged glass, two inches of foam, lukewarm. I took it reluctantly. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” He smothered his cigarette on the ash tray and started wiping down a dirty glass with an equally dirty rag. “So what’re doing over on this side of town? Never seen you around before.”

I shifted in my seat. I had fully expected this sketchy character to leave me alone and skulk around in the corner; unfortunately he wanted to prove me wrong. “I’m here to meet someone, like I said.”

“You meetin’ some lady out here? Because let me tell you, the women in this area are a little rough around the edges. You don’t want to get involved with ‘em. ‘Course, if all you’re lookin’ for is someone easy…”

“Mary is not someone easy,” I snapped, setting my drink down just a little too hard. Heads turned to glare at me from across the room.

The bartender held up a hand. “Hey, whatever you say. I ain’t judging.” He went to continue wiping the glass, then paused. “Mary? Wouldn’t be Mary Jackson, would it? Cause she ain’t welcome here. That devil of a woman’s always got the cops trailin’ after her.”

Devil of a woman… well, he was right about that. I narrowed my eyes. “Look, are you writing a book or what? What’s with all the questions?”

He chuckled. “You’ll have to forgive me, mister. No one new ever comes here; you’re the first interesting person to show up in about a month.”

“What makes me so interesting?”

He laughed – snickered, really – eyeing me up and down. “C’mon, the expensive suit, a nice watch, what’re your shoes made of? Italian leather? Not exactly the clientele I get here on a daily basis. This ain’t the Ritz, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Trust me, I noticed,” I muttered, glancing at the cracked lightbulb on the ceiling.

“Don’t know why a man like you would be in this part of town. I can name six guys off the top of my head that would mug you without a moment’s hesitation, and half of ‘em are sitting in this room.”

I looked around me. He was right; more than one shady character was watching me, no doubt with malicious intent. I needed to move. I chugged the last of the beer, reaching into my pocket to pull out a ten dollar bill.

“Listen, you’re going to pretend you never saw me here. Don’t answer to anyone unless it’s a lady named Janet Marcel, got it? She’ll be short with blonde hair.”

“Janet? I thought you was meetin’ some broad named Mary? Not that it makes a difference to me.” He regarded me curiously.

I slid the ten dollars over the countertop. “Stop asking questions. Tell her I’m in room number six.”

His eyes lit up at the sight of the money. He grabbed the bill and stuffed it in his grubby pocket, smiling at me all the while. “No problem, buddy. I’ll make sure no one else bothers you.”

“Much appreciated.”

The hotel room across the parking lot was just like the bar; dark, dingy, and with just the right amount of unidentifiable stains to put me on edge. I sat down on the side of the bed – I swear it dropped three inches – and took off my suit jacket. A crack of lightning and tapping on the roof told me that it had begun to rain. I stood again to pull the curtains shut across the window.

“Some hotel you’ve picked, Mary,” I muttered.

I waited only ten minutes for her to show up. The rain crashed against the windows and the roof, disguising the sound of any footsteps from outside. When she knocked on the door it made me jump. I opened it slowly. Her silhouette, outlined against the dark sky, was leaning against the doorframe.

“Miss Jackson,” I drawled, whistling softly. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

She closed the door behind her. She was in disguise, of course. I watched as she slowly removed her dripping raincoat, sunglasses, headscarf, and wig. She threw the mass of blonde hair to the side and shook out her own dark, curly locks. She kicked off her shoes last.

“It’s been too long.” Her voice was soft, the New York accent much more subtle than the bartender’s. Anyone who didn’t know her would think she had a gentle demeanor, but I knew better. I could see the wicked light in her eyes. The woman was a demon wearing a stolen halo, a prowling she-wolf among the lambs, and I loved her for it. Gentle, indeed.

She stepped forward, pressing her body up against me and snaking her hands around my neck. The top three buttons of her dress were already undone. God, I loved this woman.

I went to kiss her, but she held a finger to my lips. “Listen, I can’t stay all night. I’ve only got a few hours.”

“What? But it’s been two months—”

“I ran into some trouble this morning. They’ll be lookin’ for me – the cops – I think I lost them a few towns back but I can’t risk stayin’ here for too long.”

“Trouble?” I frowned, taking her hand in mine. “Mary, what happened?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

It was then that I noticed her coat, now hung up next to the door, with a heavy object weighing down the front pocket. Probably a gun.

“Mary, what did you—?”

“Shh, I said don’t worry about it. It ain’t your problem.” She pressed her hands against my shoulders, pushing me back towards the bed.

“Are you sure?”

Mary didn’t respond. She only stood up on her toes to kiss my jaw and then my mouth, slipping her hands into the back pockets of my trousers. “Take your own advice, babe. Stop asking questions.”

I frowned against her lips, but my hands wrapped around her waist regardless. “You were in the pub the whole time?” I questioned between kisses.

“Course I was. Got to make sure you keep our secret.” Mary pushed me down to sit on the bed. She stalked forward, like an animal after its prey, kneeling down with one leg on either side of my lap. She ran her fingers though my hair. “You slipped up. You said my name.”

“It was an accident.” I tried to kiss her again, but she turned her head away.

“Don’t do it again. It’s important that I stay hidden; now more than ever.”

I groaned in frustration, my hands sliding down to rest on her hips. “Just tell me what happened!”

She smacked my cheek lightly. “Now now, no whining. Or do I have to slip you ten dollars?”

I would’ve been angry if it weren’t for the seductive smile on her face, or just the fact that it was Mary. I couldn’t resist her. “Ten dollars? I have something else in mind.”

She smirked. “Course you do.”

An hour later we were lying in the creaky old bed, her head on my bare chest, her dark hair splayed out over the pillow next to her. My hand caressed the generous curve of her hip as she ran light fingers over my shoulder.

“How’s that pretty little thing you’ve got living at home?” she asked, turning her head to look at me.

“Gina? She’s alright. Got the baby to keep her occupied.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you had a little brat. Baby girl?”

“Mhm. You wouldn’t believe it, but we’ve named her Mary.”

Her lips, now smudged with red lipstick, curved into the wicked smile that I loved so much. “You didn’t.”

“Hey, it was her idea. I just agreed to it.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or scold you. You better make sure little Miss Gina doesn’t get suspicious.”

I chuckled, pulling her closer to me. “Like I said, it was her idea.”

We lay there in silence for another few minutes. I could feel her heart beating slowly. That heart which I loved so much… I desperately wanted it to belong to me. I told myself that it did. Really, I had no clue. But she kept coming back, didn’t she? After every other fling, every affair, charade, and crime committed, she always came back to me. That must’ve counted for something, right?

“Uh oh, you’re thinking again, aren’t you? That’s dangerous,” she teased.

“Listen, Mary… I’ve been wondering… are we just gonna keep going on like this? Sneaking around and meeting up in dumpy hotel rooms? You know I’ve got money, I could set you up an apartment near my house. We could make it work.”

“Babe, you know I can’t settle anywhere. Not after everything I’ve done. The cops would find me and then you’d get in trouble too. You got a wife and kid to think about, remember?”

I scoffed. “Since when do you care about Gina? If it weren’t for her I would’ve married you.”

“Correction: you would’ve tried to marry me. I told you I can’t settle down.”

I felt a bit hurt. Did she feel no loyalty to me, after everything we’d done together? No persisting want to be near me? I certainly did – every second of the day. Every time I laid next to my own wife in bed, I wished it were Mary. Every time I ran my fingers through Gina’s short, mouse-coloured hair, I wished it were Mary’s dark tresses. I would lie awake at night, missing her smile, her kiss, her touch, her body… was I alone in this? Did she not care?

Noticing my sad expression, Mary pressed a kiss to my jaw. “Aw, babe, don’t get offended. You know I care about you. I just can’t stay in the same place for too long. I’d get arrested, and then I wouldn’t be able to see you at all.” Her smile was comforting, but she said the words too casually for me to really believe it.

“I love you, Mary.”

I felt her body instantly tense, her hand freezing above my torso. “You shouldn’t. I’m a bad person.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re a good person who’s been thrown into many bad situations.” I took her hand, pulling her knuckles to my lips and kissing them lightly.

“Babe, you don’t—”

A sudden crash of thunder cut off her sentence. She sat up in bed, the sheets falling from her naked body. “I have to leave soon.”

“Wait, Mary…”

She stood up, a crack of lightning illuminating her fair skin in the darkness. I saw a few specks of red dotted around her chest and collar bone. Had those always been there?

“Where are you going to go? When will I see you again?” I looked at her pleadingly. She showed little sympathy as she tugged her dress on over her head.

“Down south; I’ve got a friend who owes me a favour. As for when I’ll see you again… I don’t know. I messed up, babe. This isn’t like the other times where I could hide out in some rat-hole for a while and the cops would forget about me. I’ve got to go away for a long time. A year maybe, two, five… I don’t really know.”

I sat up, regarding her with a pained expression. There it was; the nagging suspicion that the ‘trouble’ she talked about was bigger than just a robbery or some scam. I didn’t want to believe it, but the way she talked about it… I couldn’t pretend everything was okay.

I got up and slipped on my trousers. Mary stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself, staring absently at the floor. Her wild hair hung down and covered half her face. She was shivering. I’d never seen her like that before; she was always so cocky, so sure of herself. It scared me to see her like that. I grabbed her coat and wrapped it around her, pulling her into my chest. Her head barely came up to my shoulder.

“I killed a man. Shot him right between the eyes,” she whispered.

I inhaled slowly, rocking her gently from side to side. “What happened?”

“One of my friends let me in on a plan to rob some rich guy, something that was going to get us a lot of money, you know? I thought it’d be no problem. All I had to do was distract the man while everyone else did the work. Easy, right? But things went south real quick. The others had trouble breakin’ in, the timing was all wrong; I didn’t know if we’d make it out. Then the rich guy, some sleazy millionaire, he got too handsy for my liking. I put up a fuss, he persisted, had me pinned down an’ everything. I got scared. I didn’t know what to do, so I pulled out my gun and… I shot him.”

I could feel her shaking. “When the others found out what had happened, they bolted. Took all the money and left me alone with the cops on their way over. I barely made it out. Took me nearly six hours to get them off my trail. I ain’t never killed anyone before, I didn’t want to – I was just scared… if they find me I’ll be in the electric chair by the end of the month.”

“Oh Mary,” I whispered, stroking her hair gently. “I’m sorry.”

“It ain’t your fault. I was being stupid. I should’ve been able to keep him off me, or maybe I should’ve just… let him…”

“Hey, don’t you dare say that.” I cupped her face with my hands, looking her directly in the eyes. Those eyes, which always held such light and mischief, looked terrified. “You were just defending yourself; you didn’t mean to kill him. I don’t even know if they would have you executed, maybe if you explained the whole story…”

She shook her head. “I’d rather not take my chances. It’s better if I disappear for a long while, trust me. I – I really have to go.”

“Mary, please… you can’t leave now. I’ll figure something out; I’ve got connections, I’ll pull a few strings…”

A loud banging interrupted me, causing us both to jump. Someone was knocking at the door.

“Who on earth would be out there in the pouring rain?”

Mary was frozen still in my arms. “It’s the cops, it has to be. I’m too late, they found me, I’m gonna get killed—”

“Calm down, Mary. Go wait in the bathroom. I’ll see who it is.”

She nodded, turning and running to the small bathroom. She shut the door behind her.

The banging on the door continued. “Alright, alright, I’m coming!” I shouted, slipping on my shirt. “Geez, people have no patience these days.”

I opened the door and found the bartender, now drenched from the rain, shivering on the doorstep.

“Listen mister, I don’t know if this concerns you at all, but I got a tip saying some coppers are nosin’ around the area. Runaway murderer, female suspect. Just thought I’d let you know.”

My chest constricted. I barely managed to nod. “Thank you. I probably won’t be staying much longer anyways. Do you know how close they are?”

“Drivin’ down Victoria Avenue, last I heard. Should take them a long while to get over here at the pace they’re goin’—”

He stopped. I saw his eyes widen. From fear, confusion… I couldn’t really tell. I turned to look behind me. Mary was standing behind the door of the bathroom, her head poking out into view. She was frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Mary Jackson? Are you the one the cops are lookin’ for?” he demanded. The man shoved his way past me, storming up to her and yanking open the bathroom door. “I told you never to show your face in my hotel again, don’t you remember? And now you’re hidin’ in here after committing a murder!” He was practically yelling now.

“I ain’t done nothing…” she whimpered, backing away from him.

“Yeah, sure, and my mother’s the Queen of England! The second the cops get here, I’m handin’ you over, you little bitch!” He grabbed hold of her wrist, dragging her out of the bathroom.

“Stop!” she cried, trying to pull away.

“Hey, get your hands off of her!” I yelled.

The man turned to sneer at me. “You in on this too? I knew there was somethin’ suspicious about ya. Should I be handin’ both of you over to the police?”

“Wha – I’m no criminal, and neither is she!”

“Oh yeah?” He spat on the ground. “Prove it.”

I moved towards him. “If you don’t let go of her right now and leave, I’ll knock your face in.”

He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small handle, flipping it open to reveal a switchblade. “Try anything and you’re a dead man.”

I made to step closer to him, but before I could do anything a deafening bang filled the room. I stumbled back in surprise, my ears ringing and my head pounding. My back hit the wall.

“Baby, I – I’m sorry… I panicked…”

I looked up to see Mary standing there, gun in hand. The body of the bartender lay slumped on the floor. Blood was pooling on the carpet. He was dead.

My brain felt fuzzy. “Mary… what’ve you done…?” I whispered.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with pure terror. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. She’d just killed a man… right in front of my eyes. And funnily enough, all I could do was worry for her safety. There’s no way she’ll make it out now.

Her eyes flickered from me to the body and back again. They narrowed slightly. In those few moments, she made her decision as to what she’d have to do. Striding up to me, she grasped my face in her hands and kissed me. The kiss was rough, fierce, longing and so very desperate. I could feel every emotion, every what if, every panicked thought that crossed her mind. She held onto me for nearly ten seconds. When she finally let go, allowing me to catch my breath, her face had an expression of grim determination on it.

“Is there another way out of this room?”

I blinked. “What…?”

“Is there another way out?”

I struggled to comprehend what she was asking me. “There’s a back door… next to the closet…”

She nodded, kissing my lips once more. “I’m sorry baby. Please forgive me.”

She raised her hand, the grip of the gun facing towards me. I barely had time to process what was happening before she brought it down, hard, against my jaw. I felt a sharp pain. My vision went spotty, flashes of light dancing before my eyes, and then darkness. The last thing I felt were her arms catching me and lowering me down before I went unconscious.

I woke up much later. Grey light filtered in through the curtains; was it morning already? How long had I been asleep? My jaw throbbed with pain. I sat up slowly, realizing that I was on the same creaky bed in that dingy little hotel room. It took me a few minutes to remember what had happened.

“Mary,” I whispered, shaking my head. My eyes widened. Had the cops found her? Had they found me? There was a dead body on the floor; surely they’d assume I was the murderer…

I turned my head, eyes scanning the room frantically. But I didn’t see the body, the blood on the carpet, the gun… nothing. The room was spotless, or as spotless as it had been when I arrived. Not a single speck of red, or any other clue, to indicate that anything had gone wrong. Except, I discovered, for my suit jacket. I picked it up off the floor and stuck my hand in the pocket. I pulled out the black leather wallet; at least that was still there. But when I opened it, I found the thing nearly empty. Only two one-dollar bills, as opposed to the ten or so (valuing nearly fifteen bucks) that were in it earlier. Just enough to get me back home by cab

I slumped back against the headboard of the bed. It was too much to process. Mary killed a man… two men… and now she was gone. I was a witness, an accessory to the crime if you wanted to look at it that way. I would have to leave undetected and come up with a good alibi. I would have to alter my appearance, just a little, in case anyone in the bar identified me with the police. I would have to explain to Gina why I’d been out here, if the police ever came knocking… it was a messy situation.

An hour later, the cab driver pulled up outside of my house. He whistled softly. “Nice place you got here, mister.”

“Thanks.” I pulled my wallet out of my coat pocket.

“That’ll be a dollar fifty, mister.”

Reaching into the wallet, I grabbed the two dollar bills. Before I could hand them to the cab driver, something caught my eye – something I hadn’t noticed earlier. It was a small piece of paper, folded and tucked into the side pouch.

I handed the driver the money and walked into the house. “Gina, I’m home!” I called, taking off my jacket.

I sat down on the chair in the foyer and pulled the folded square out of my wallet. I opened it up. It was a note scribbled on yellow paper, with a red lipstick kiss printed on the back.

Sorry we couldn’t have a proper goodbye. I don’t think I’ll ever see you again.

- Miss Jackson

. . .

Oh, where will you be waking up tomorrow morning? Oh, out the back door, Goddamn, But I love her anyway.

- Panic! at the Disco

#p!atd #missjackson #panic!#short story #murder #romance #mystery #criminal #femme fatale #panic! at the disco

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