#the paperwork gag stops being funny long ago

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Could i request overhaul’s s/o avoiding him because she has laryngitis and doesn’t want to give it to him. But he wants to take care of her?

I had this shit daily in my childhood BEGONEDEMON

Overhaul/ Kai chisaki x sick!reader (2)

Hoarseness, Sore Throat, pain while swallowing, dry coughs, sniffling all the time and a possible fever?

Shit... is coming.

How, you wonder? Ever since you moved in with your boyfriend you had to get used to his neurotics cleaning habits, almost everyone in the base had to actually...

Ever single week, cleaning duty, suddenly a splash of blood on the wall or on the ground? "Chrono clean that up" "Yes sir."

Sometimes you felt pity over Kurono...

But your lucky self had the luxury of getting Laryngitis... worst of all? It was super simple to catch it! You know what that means, right?

"Why would you want to stay on another room?" Asked Chisaki not even bothering to look away from his paperwork but surprise evident in his voice and slightly hurt because c'mon he needs you to sleep.

"I-I need to get some stuff done that's all! I can't do it in our room, it will be messy" that would certainly convince him "It will only be for a couple of days, I swear."

He sighed, flipping another page "What exactly you're planning to do?"

"Uh... it's a secret?" Idiot! You damn idiot!

He finally looked at you, those golden eyes boring into your soul almost.

"(Y/N)." He spoke in an warning tone, almost telling you 'don't lie to me' just by only saying your name.

No, if you tell him you are sure he is going to be disgusted, and god prevents if he catches this from you.

"I-it's not a big de-" for your own luck you started to cough, just in front of Overhaul... Thankfully you were wearing a mask he gave it to you not long ago as well pressing your palm over it.

You returned your gaze to Chisaki who now was with a expression of concern; even with his mask on his face; but still jerked away with his chair even if you two weren't that close.

"Angel, are you okay? You're getting sick?"

"W-what me? Pfff! No, I just ended up choking while talking." You force a laugh to enfasis your lie "Silly me!".

Overhaul arked a brow and stared straight to your eyes.

"I don't think you could just gagged all of the sudden." He didn't think, he knew.

"Well, the way I'm clumsy as hell I wouldn't doub it." You spoke with a straight face to hide your own cold sweat of nervousness.

He only hummed sarcastically while standing up.

"A-ah! I just remember I had to put my clothes on the washer!"

"(Y/N), your laudry was done by Nemoto just yesterd-"

"I spilled juice over my shirt! My bad!" You laugh in a effort to hide the upcoming cough and the irritation on your throat while making your way out of his office.

"(Y/N) I don't think we already ended this discussion-"

"Had to go *cough* bye bye love you have a good work!" You close the door while almost running to a room that was still free for you to use.

Mimic entered shortly after in his office still staring at the door before directing his attention for his boss.

"Not wanting to barge myself into the issue Overhaul, but what the hell was that?" he pointed with his thumb at the door you just run out off.

Chisaki exhaled loudly, he picked his jacket and opened the door just a half before speaking to Mimic.

"Tell Chrono to go after (Y/N). I will be out for a couple of hours." And with this he closed the door.

====================================

"(Y/N) open this door already." Hari knocked once again calling for you.

You groaned in your pillow, he was in there for hours, and apparently wouldn't go away without you.

"No way Chrono, everyone in this building can catch this, and I don't think any of us would like a irritaded Overhaul."

"Point taken, but he will be more enraged when you don't follow his orders and get the fuck out of there."

"This is for the greater good. I will only get out of here when this fucking laryngitis go away..."

You could hear a faint scoff, surely he was running out of pacience, but this was better than seing Kai's face of disgust and pure of dissapointment on you for letting this happened.

Finally silent, just before you heard a faint couple of steps coming closer and probably stopping to speak with Chrono, then the white haired man manifested again.

"(Y/N) I'm serious get out of there or I will barge myself in it."

"You do know you can catch this too right?" You point it out angrily finally lifting your head from the pillow.

"...Would you feel more at ease if you don't already know I wear a mask that covers my entire face almost all the time?" He spoke in sarcasm and you finally tired of his persistence and lift yourself from the bed.

"Fine, what is it any-" you frooze when you saw not only Kurono, but Chisaki in your front staring at you with a brow arched up and his arms crossed.

"Dismissed Chrono." The man nodded and went off without much of a word.

Traitor. Fucking traitor.

As much as you wanted to close the door again and just burry yourself on the ground, you opted for going to pick your mask again with your gaze sticked to the ground in embarrassment.

Bold of you to assume he would let go that easy.

Chisaki grabbed your forearm spining you around to look at him. He doesn't say anything, just stares... waiting for you to talk first.

Better as well do that since you don't have much of choices.

"I-I'm sorry..." you said looking again at the floor.

It was silent until Chisaki let go of your arm and spoke in a rushed tune.

"Laryngitis, huh? The symptoms were evident, just wanted to make sure."

He entered the room and silently comanded that you followed after him. You sitted on the bed and prepared for the scolding as soon as he went to the entrance of the room to close the door.

"If you hided this any longer and if I was a complete fool; like you expected me to fall for all the stupids lies you told; you could've have got a infection." He spoke in a hushed tone as he made his way to a nightstand messing with some plastic bags.

"I'm-"

"Don't say another word." You flinched, and he noticed "Apologies, but don't say anything, it will only force your throat and cause more damage... Just stay quiet for now. If it is really important speak very quiet but do not whisper."

Well, that was... Unexpected.

You observe in silence while you layed down on the bed your boyfriend mumbling some incoherent words as he took off some little boxes and numerous bottles of water.

"Mimic is bringing a vaporizer to the room while Nemoto is making some tea, it will help your nose and your sore throat, then you've got to take some of the medices..."

You stared at pure adoration at Chisaki and couldn't catch much words he was saying after. A man who simply hated touch of other people, despises with his soul any sickness; including quirks which are his main goal to eradicate but whatever; was standing right in front if you and going out of his way to get you better.

Were you the angel he so called? This time you really thought it was the other way around...

"I swear, you must've have hitted your head to start acting this way, avoiding and being a pest for everyone in here..."

Okay, maybe a fallen one...

You giggled quietly making Chisaki ends his monologue to stare questionably at you but a hint of relieve of seing your smile.

"Care to explain what is so funny?"

You spoke so quietly that he couldn't catch a single letter.

"Wait a second my love." He went to a cabinet and picked a pen and a little block of notes and handed it to you.

"This way you won't have to force your voice."

You wrote it slowly just to tease for a bit before handing it to him. Kai greedily picked up the block of notes and immediately flushed pink at seing what exactly you spoke minutes ago.

Once again, thanks for the mask to hide his weakness.

"Seriously?" He showed it to you pointing with his other hand but a smile evident on his features.

You only shrugged and give him a more brighter smile.

He huffed, closing the block and outting on the nightstand while mumbling an "adorable idiot."

He looked at you for an instant, debating with himself if he should do it or not what he was thinking, making you curious and slightly anxious.

He slowed down his mask for mere second, kissing his own middle and indicator gloved fingers to touch your lips. A simple and silly action that once you did it to him, but it made your cheeks flush anyway.

Chisaki looked proud at himself as he slowy bringed his hand back and sitted besides your form.

"Don't ever doubt I love you as well my precious angel."

"Kai..."

Ah shit this time he listened and he could feel his heart crashing out of his chest.

A knocked on the door was heard and he got up to go in the direction at the entrance, causing you to miserably pout. He notice that arrogant bastard.

"It's probably your tea or vaporizer brat, I took the day off, better appreciate that instead of working in my cause I am here with you."

Even with his kinda rude words; but also affectionate tone of voice; you beamed happily knowing you got Overhaul all to yourself.

Yay! Thank laryngitis! You were useful for once!

Chisaki rolled his eyes in false annoyance as he made his way to the door.

You were gonna be the death of him, surely...

[dontshootmespence]

Broken Homes Fix Broken Hearts

A/N: How are you liking @veroinnumera and my story? Let us know!

Chapter 31

Another case solved in record time. The BAU was on a roll lately. It sucked that they had cases coming in so consistently, but humanity ensured they’d never be out of a job. Luckily, every member of the team clicked in a way that no other group did, allowing them to solve cases quickly.

Smiling down at his phone, Derek messaged her back before putting it in his pocket.

“What are you so smiley about?” JJ asked, crossing her legs across from him.

“It’s just Juliet. I promised that if we finished the case today, I would cook dinner for her when I got home.”

Rossi walked up from the back of the jet, second cup of coffee in hand and sat down across the aisle from both of them. “Our very own Derek Morgan, settled down and domesticated. Who would’ve known?”

JJ knew the look in Morgan’s eyes. It’s how she always felt with Will. “You look happy. I’m happy for you.”

“I am. I really am. I had no idea this was ever gonna come my way. And now I can’t imagine letting it go.” He sighed, staring down at her name on his phone.

“Well, as far as I know, you don’t have to. But to be extra safe, marry her. And then you definitely don’t. At least it worked for me and Will.” JJ grinned.

Derek felt as if someone had just splashed cold water on his face. How had he not already? The honest answer was that it already felt like he had. They were each other's forevers.  And maybe he’d never said it by asking her that question, but it was the truth. He knew it just as well as he knew the sun rose every morning or that it set every night.  “Right.” He murmured, mostly to himself. “Right.”

                                                            -----

The rest of the ride on the jet Derek pretty much zoned out. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked her already. But now how? How was he supposed to ask the most amazing woman he’d ever known to be his for the rest of his life? It felt like there was no acceptable way - it all felt like too little.

Finally, they were back at the BAU to grab some paperwork to take home. “You’ve all worked hard. Go home and relax,” Hotch said.

Everything went by on autopilot. He picked up his things, he slipped on his jacket...How was he supposed to do this?

“Hello, my beautiful sculpted Greek god,” Penelope said, pulling him out of his trance. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just ready to go home.”

“No, that’s not it. There’s something else.” Penelope grabbed his face in both hands and made him look right at her. “You’re off in another world. Come on, tell me what’s up.”

Derek took a cleansing breath, the words coming out of his mouth giving him more piece of mind every time he thought about them. “I want to marry Juliet. I want to propose.”

Penelope Garcia let out a delighted squeal much louder than should have been possible given her stature. She flung her arms around Derek and started jumping up and down while hugging him. And soon Derek found he was jumping up and down too. They were both laughing and grinning, happy tears forming in her eyes when she finally stopped jumping and just held onto him.

“Did I just break Penelope Grace Garcia?” Derek chuckled

Penelope nodded vigorously. “Oh yes. But I have been reborn into a bigger and better PGG, like a pokemon or something.”

There was a brief moment of silence before she sprung on him again. “Okay, tell me everything. I want Hallmark movie level detail. Why now? What happened? When is the wedding?”

Okay, one question at a time. “Why now?” He parroted. “Because I just realized on the jet that I never ever want to let her go. What happened? Nothing, she’s just everything and I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of waking up next to her. And when is the wedding? I have no clue because I don’t even know how to propose yet.”

Penelope’s face dropped into that of stunned and unbridled joy. “What? You...you don’t know how to propose?” She pointed at herself and smiled. “Meet your proposal coach. Do you have a ring? Because if not, I can take you ring shopping.”

“That I have,” he said, smiling softly as he pictured the velvet pouch he had safely tucked away at home. “When we went to see my family, my mama saw it - the look in my eyes - she gave me her engagement ring.”

She couldn’t fan her eyes fast enough. “Oh my god, that’s so perfect. It is like a Hallmark movie. Alright, for proposals, do you want something big or small?”

“Small,” he said emphatically. “Juliet doesn’t like being the center of attention and I’d really like this to be a private thing.”

Garcia nodded. “Well someone will have to break the news to her that when you get married I will be staring at her the entire time so she will be the center of attention.  In the meantime, small and intimate. Okay. The house? Or is there somewhere else that would be a good fit?”

“I would like to do it at the house because that’s the reason we met in the first place. I was thinking that maybe I could do a scavenger hunt of sorts, but I have no idea how to come up with the clues. I’d leave the candles, the flowers, a dress for her, shoes for her, some nice bath things all around the house and she’d use them that day or for the flowers and candles they’d be on the table with the clues leading to them but I have no idea where to start.” This was a good idea, but how was he supposed to pull this off. Suddenly, it dawned on him - and apparently Garcia too.

“Reid!”

                                                           -----

Juliet loved her job in general, but this was always her favorite part of the day - storytime with the younger kids.

As the words spilled forth, she couldn’t help but picture reading to her own kids one day. Two or three kids was what she’d always wanted. A nice tight-knit family; it would be the complete opposite of what she’d grown up with.

That’s when it dawned on her.

That dream had left her so long ago. After Carter brutalized her and demoralized her and took everything away from her, she assumed she wasn’t destined for that, and yet here she was sitting in front of a group of children and picturing her own happy family. Derek had done that for her.

She wanted a family with him.

A smile spread across her face so quickly it threw off the children she was reading too. “What’s so funny, Miss Juliet?” One of the little girls asked.

“Not funny. I’m happy because I realized that I want to marry my boyfriend and start a family with little ones just like you.”

The boys made gagging noises, save for the one toward the back of the group that gave her a thumbs up, and the girls oohed and aahed, making kissy noises in the direction of the disgruntled boys. “What’s his name?” The same girl asked.

“His name is Derek Morgan.”

Her eyes widened and her lip started to tremble. “Sweetie what’s wrong?” Juliet asked, kneeling down besides her. “I-if you marry him I -I can’t call you Miss Juliet anymore. I’ll have to call you Mrs-Mrs. Morgan.”

Juliet smiled, shaking her head. “You can call me Miss Juliet forever. I promise, Okay?”

Her lip stopped trembling and she grinned “Okay!”

And so, Miss Juliet went back to the book.

About an hour later all the little ones had gone home and she was reshelving stray paperbacks.  She would keep her promise, but the idea of getting to be Juliet Morgan instead of Juliet Hunter-Lewis gave her butterflies. Not just because it meant she and Derek were family, but because it stood for who she was now: free and alive and empowered and happy and ready to spend the rest of the life with the love of her life. No more darkness and demons from her past got to haunt her anymore. Juliet Morgan only had room in her life for hope.

@virgoswlw​ @crimeshowtrash​ @literallyprentissstwin​ @jazz91121 @tommyhollandd​ @spencer-puppies-and-stuff​ @fl0werb0nes18​ @stunudo​ @spencerthepipecleaner​ @theofficeofsupremegenius​ @ultrarebelheart​ @lookwhatyoumademequeue​ @lukeassmanalvez​ @mentallydatingspencerreid​ @nobravery​ @criminal-anatomy @matthew-gray-reidler​ @remember-me-forever-silent-angel​ @original-criminal-fanfics​ @lovelukealvez @stories-you-wont-hear @speedreiding @marvelfanlife @butsomeofusarelookingatthestars​ @wonderboygenius​ @naturallytom​ @imagines-for-criminal-minds​ @acespence​ @sweater-vest-reid​ @criminalmindskeepsmealive @spenncerreiid​ @sam-carter-in-training​ @parker-hopper @spencerwreid​ @ssahotchner​ @profiler-in-training​ @were-skye​ @trollitis​ @heyboywonder​ @ficrecswithcassie​ @janiedreams88@gingeraleandcontemplation @cynbx @fortheloveofspencerreid​ @tippy06​ @cleocc @bestillmystuckyheart​ @ssaunitchief​ @xxm3xxj​ @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo​

[wordsdrippinginink]

@myladyday who requested marcoace high school sweethearts that reunite when they're like 40, because of the new pictures. Which ended up, after discussion as a Bones au (kind of)

“Why is Luffy asking me to convince you to go to your high school reunion,” Marco asks as he steps into Ace’s office, stepping immediately to the right, catching sight of the rubber band in Ace’s hands right before it went flying. He doesn’t laugh when Luffy whines, but he considers it. “I was just curious.”

Ace snorts as he turns back to his computer, “I haven’t gone back home in years, my parents were hoping if Luffy convinced me to go the reunion that I would come home for a few days. Not that they don’t come to visit me, but they’re retired now and they don’t like coming to D.C.”

“And they think Luffy can convince you?”

“Luffy’s my favorite cousin, I’ve been doing what he’s wanted since the day he was born. He’s the reason I was a pirate for Halloween until I was thirteen and decided to be a vampire because those were cool. Please say that you have a case so I can tell them work is keeping me?”

“No case sorry, just came to ask you if you wanted to have lunch.”

“Lunch sounds good,” Ace sighs, like he had actually been hoping for a case instead, saving his notes and locking his computer. “You would think that being a Forensic Anthropologist would leave me with less paperwork, but I swear I have more than I could have imagined when I decided this was what I wanted to do with my life,” he pauses over the cowboy hat before shoving it onto his head and grabbing the leather jacket over the back of his chair.

“I swear you dress like you’ve forgotten how old you are,” Marco says letting Ace lead the way out of his office, ignoring the gesture towards his tie..

“I’m forty, not dead Marco. So, the diner?” Ace asks waving to the rest of the people in the room.

Marco hums, “If you want. Honestly I just wanted to have lunch together, I could care less what we actually eat. Unless it’s that taco place that murdered us both three weeks ago. I put my foot down, we are never going back.”

“I called in the health inspector, they were closed down four days ago. And they weren’t even real tacos, culturally-”

“I love you, but if you give me one more cultural lesson on tacos, I will leave you here without lunch.”

“Fine, food now dumbass.”

Marco smiles, watching as Ace relaxed, no longer as tense as he had been when Marco had arrived. A smile playing across his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked faster, heading right for the diner and smiling at the woman behind the counter before stealing their usual table. The one in the back corner that wasn’t easily visible from the windows.

“So why don’t you want to go home?” Marco asks, taking his seat.

Ace sighs, pushing his hat from his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “I don’t like seeing everyone from back then. I wasn’t the best student back in the day, not that I was dumb but you know how dumb high schoolers are.”

“I too was once in high school,” Marco agrees, resting his chin on his palm. “Did they not expect you to get this far?”

“A couple used to joke that I would be using my dad’s name to go places in life. Those ones weren’t my friends but it stuck with me, I use my mom’s maiden name academically. If I go back, I have to either correct everyone or deal with them using my dad’s name. And if I go back alone?”

Marco snorts, “That bad?”

Ace nods, smiling politely at the waitress and giving his order, “I had a boyfriend in high school and everyone thought that we would get married or something one day. He graduated two years before me and the distance and life caused us to break up. We were friendly about it, we still cared about each other, but,” he shrugs. “We were kids. They always ask if they should try and find him for me, like it’s a bad rom-com.”

“Instead of a good rom-com?”

“I love you and I know you’re a smart man, but shut your mouth before I gag you.”

“Kinky,”

Ace rolls his eyes and Marco hides a grin, “Won’t be if I go through with it. Which is the other reason I don’t want to go, the one person I would want to come with me-”

“When is it?”

“Three weeks,” Ace answers spinning his coffee cup in his hands.

Marco hums, “Might be able to get some time off, just to escort you to your reunion. Of course, I would expect to be compensated for it.”

“Compensated, huh? I don’t know, it’s only three days. Maybe I should just say that I’m not coming.”

“Well, I seem to remember my boyfriend asking me to do something for him and I said I wanted to think about it.”

“We aren’t having sex in my parents house. I haven’t done that since high school and it’s even more awkward now than it was back then, if only because they will know and you have that stupid grin.”

Marco laughs, “You have the stupid grin, but I suppose if you don’t want to have sex at your parents house, I can respect that. We’re adults, we’re not going to start fucking like teenagers.”

“Does the FBI let you walk around talking like that or is it just me that gets to hear you like this?”

“I’m not censoring myself.”

“Honestly, I think my mom swears worse than you. I should warn you,” Ace sighs. “I should warn you that dad is pretty famous in politics and mom owns a company.”

“No wonder they thought you would use his name,” Marco taps Ace’s hand, just brushing their fingers together. “I’m dating you for you, not because of your family. And I even listen to all those rants about bone fragments and the kinds of glue that you can and can’t use on them. I think if I was here for your parents, who I don’t even know yet, then I wouldn’t have listened to those.”

“Sap.”

Marco keeps his mouth shut as they drive, but he wants to say something. Has since they reached the limits of the town, because this is his hometown. There’s two high schools and barely enough students to fill both of them, but he remembers both of them well enough or least the versions of them from when he was there, since he had gone to one and his ex had gone to the other.

“Has it changed since the last time you were here?” Marco asks because it has since his last visit almost eight years ago.

Ace hums as he waits for the light to turn green, sunglasses sliding down his nose, “The pet shop is new. I came through five years ago to visit mom and it wasn’t there.”

“Huh,” Marco can agree, but Ace’s driving again and Marco isn’t really sure how to bring up anything as Ace moves towards a house that Marco had known quite well a very long time ago. “This is your parent’s place?”

“It’s obnoxious, I know,” Ace agrees pulling up into the driveway. “I told them my boyfriend was coming, but I don’t know if they set up seperate rooms. Dad use to think it was funny when I attended this more regularly.”

“I’m sure I can deal with it.”

Ace winces as he steps out, “Dad’s friend is over too. He lives down the street, but he and dad like to go golfing. Also,” Ace pauses pulling both their bags out the back seat. “My ex’s dad.”

“You dated the son of your dad’s best friend,” Marco says slowly because if he’s not wrong, he’s not sure if he wants to be wrong, he’s accidently started dating his high school boyfriend, for the second time, and that’s his dad inside there with Roger Gol. The same Roger Gol that had scared him horribly when he had arrived to take his ex out on their first date. “Takes some guts.”

“He wasn’t known for being a coward,” Ace agrees taking a deep breath. “Ready?”

Marco nods, even though he’s sure he left his sanity back in Ace’s D.C. apartment, following him to the front door and trying to remind himself to breathe. The front hall is empty, Marco is thankful for that, and Ace avoids the loud discussion in the living room, heading for the staircase instead.

“I don’t think anything in here has changed since high school,” Ace says pushing open his bedroom door and dropping his bag and collapsing on his bed.

“Yeah,” Marco agrees because it does look like his last memory of it. “Ace, I… I might need to tell you something.”

“I’m breaking up with you if you got a text from work and want to go back,” Ace warns him. “Unless we’re both needed, in which case we can sneak back out the house and never tell my parents we got here.”

Marco sighs, unlocking his phone and flipping through his pictures to the last one he had of his dad and the newest Stefan, “This is my pops.”

“Marco, what,” Ace goes quiet and Marco thinks that he’s actually looking at his phone because Marco can’t look at him. “Jesus fucking Christ, seriously Marco? You didn’t mention this before now?”

“I didn’t think it was important Ace, at least until we pulled into my home town and up to my ex boyfriend’s house.”

Ace makes a quiet sound before dropping his head down onto his pillow, “I’m gonna fucking die. I’m gonna die and I’m blaming you.”

“You always did blame me.”

“We don’t get to joke about this yet. There is no joking about this because I am not happy with you at all. Oh god, your dad is downstairs.”

Marco nods, “Thank you for not stopping downstairs, I did not want to do this with our parents in the room. It would probably be as bad as the time we got caught in the pool.”

“Dad redid the whole pool after we broke up, because he said I needed it to be ‘untainted’. Really I think he needed to know I had never had sex in the pool before he could use it again.”

“That is exactly something your dad would do,” Marco drops his bag and kicks off his shoes. “Scoot over or I will lay on you.” Ace wiggles to the side, face still buried into a pillow. “Thanks.”

Ace breathes out slowly, “I do not want to tell my parents we started dating again without realizing who the other was. Mom will think it’s hilarious and dad will complain about how he thought I had had finally stopped making his friendship with Mr. Newgate harder.”

“Pops will laugh himself sick and then tell my siblings, who will spread it through town before we even get the chance to go to your reunion.”

“Think we can hide up here until he goes home? Unless your dad shows off pictures of you, mom and dad might not realize for awhile,” Ace shifts to look at Marco. “We’re in our forties, who talks about what they did in high school at our age?”

Marco snorts, “Most people, Ace. Or they mention their hometown.”

“Shut up, you didn’t mention your dad either, Mr. Trust Fund kid.”

“Don’t point fingers, we both know you have one too,” Marco stops. “Do you think Luffy knew?”

Ace blinks slowly, “Jesus Fuck, if he knew. He better not have known, I will murder him if he did,” but he shifts and pulls out his phone to call Luffy, ignoring the text from his mother asking if he would be home in time for lunch. The phone rings almost too loud in the room.

“Ace, I thought you were gonna go home?” Luffy sounds tired. “Did you back out?”

“Luffy, do you remember my boyfriend from high school?” Ace demands.

There’s a long moment of silence, “I know he and Marco have the same name?” Luffy says slowly. “But I could look him up for you? Did he show up in town? I thought Mr. Mustache said his oldest never came to visit him anymore.”

“No it’s fine, thanks Luffy. I just couldn’t remember his name,” Ace answers and Marco drops his head back down because at least Luffy didn’t know before they had. “Why are you tired?”

“Because I let Coby convince the lab to go clubbing. I’m too old to be clubbing, Ace. I’m hungover and tired. I’m so glad to not have work today,” Luffy groans. “I have to go, my boyfriend’s brought back breakfast and medication and I need to go cry on him.”

“Go cry on him,” Ace laughs. “Thanks Luffy.”

Marco waits until Ace’s hung up before, “I’m so glad he didn’t know.”

“He encouraged me to date you, you’re glad? I’m glad. Do you know how funny he’s going to find this? He’ll think it’s better than when Coby realized that Robin was married to the professor of engineering from the college that we’re connected to.”

“Footsteps,” Marco hisses, throwing an arm over his face because he can’t.

Ace groans and Marco can hear him hiding his face in his pillow again as the door slams open and Roger, that’s Roger’s voice, shouts at them for not coming in to say hello.

“At least you are wearing clothes,” Roger ends his rant. “You should both come down for lunch, your mother made enough because you didn’t answer her text. And Ed’s staying over.”

Marco lifts his arm enough to glance over at Ace, who’s shoulders are shaking, “We going?”

“I’m going to murder you when we get home,” Ace hisses under his breath before smirking. “Yeah, Marco said he wanted to see his dad while we were here anyway.”

[itsallavengers]

(Mis)adventures of Cop!Tony & Thief!Steve

The police officer was almost bent double, regarding the picked lock and open safe as if it was having a conversation with him. There was no-one else in the room; the resident of the home had long since left the place- too upset to stay. They had just been burgled, after all.

“Safe appears to have been forced open,” the cop spoke into his walkie-talkie that was almost certainly not actually transmitting to anyone in particular, “no fingerprints or evidence of any sort, except for a footprint left by a size twelve foot. Probably looking for a tall man in the late thirties-”

“You’re looking for Rogers,” Tony said with a sigh, pushing open the door and regarding the scene of the crime with a raised eyebrow, “and no- he’s none of those things. He only puts the footprint down to fuck with you- thinks it’s funny, the little prick.”

The police officer- some recruit they’d hired a few weeks back that Tony couldn’t remember the name of- stared at him in surprise. “I- what are you doing here? And how the hell do you know that? This is a fresh crime and you just walked in.”

Tony kneaded his forehead and sighed. He was always sighing, these days. He was pretty sure exhalations had increased by at least 54% in the past year since Stupid Steve had arrived on the scene. “Because the perpetrator just sent me a selfie of him with the stolen item.”

The rookie gasped, stepping forward immediately. “You’re in contact with the perp?” He asked.

Tony just rolled his eyes, stepping forward and peering into the safe, checking the locks. Yep- that was definitely Steve’s style- he could fucking smell the guy on a crime scene at this point. “If I did- you think I’d be here? He sent it on a burner- been doing it for months now, every single time he makes a case. Is the home owner still here?”

The rookie stumbled a little, trying to process the surge of information. “I… so you’re saying a dangerous criminal has managed to obtain your number? Are you- are we safe?”

“He’s not-” Tony stopped, and pointedly did not sigh this time, “he’s not dangerous. Just an asshole.”

Yeah. Asshole indeed. Ever since the beginning of the year the guy had been making it his personal goal to try and annoy and irritate Tony as much as possible. 29 cases- all unsolved, all involving cat-burglary, theft, extortion or blackmail, and most importantly, all involving Steve Fucking Rogers.

Asshole. 

“Anyway,” Tony said, shaking his head and trying not to think about the mountain of paperwork that skinny law-dodging son of a bitch was going to have made for him that evening, “are the owners still here?”

“Can I see the picture?” Rookie asked, puffing his chest, “for evidence, you know.”

“No no no no, me first, then you,” Tony pointed to himself and clicked his tongue irritably. He was not in a good enough mood to be dealing with Rookies who wanted him to do perfectly reasonable things. “Are the owners still in the damn house?”

Rookie looked a little taken aback, but he shook his head. “Guy said he was too spooked to stay. Took an early vacation for a little while.”

Okay. See, now Tony was going to sigh again, dammit- next time he was going to catch Steve Rogers and make sure he never caused Tony any fucking hassle again- just see if he fucking didn’t. “Don’t they teach you kids about letting suspects just wander off? I’m sure they teach that. If they don’t, I suggest you learn it.”

Tony pulled a disc out of his folder and shoved it at the guy’s chest before turning on his heel. “That’s what was in the safe,” he said, waving a hand, “don’t watch it. It’s a ton of child porn.”

The Rookie reeled back in horror. “But- but- this house belongs to the mayor of the-”

“I’m aware,” Tony said dryly, “but not for much longer, if I can get ahold of him. I do have a nice pair of cuffs that would go well with his eyes, though. Any idea where he was headed?”

Rookie shook his head, and then looked back down at the disc. “How the fuck did you get this?” He asked, before catching on a second later and widening his eyes. “Did- the perp gave this to you, too?”

 Well, see, that just made Tony sound like a bad cop. He wasn’t a bad cop. He was one of the fucking best cops in New York. Just so happened that Rogers was a really, really good crook.

“It was in my mail this morning,” Tony bit out, “crime happened, what, 8 hours ago? Mail arrived 40 minutes ago, with that.”

He left out the letter Rogers had sent along with it- that one was still tucked away in his pocket, the string of numbers and the’call me if you fancy a real challenge ;) x’ still replaying in his mind like a broken record.

Stupid criminal. Stupid Criminal Steve who was just getting cocky, that’s all he was. 

“Go back to the precinct, kid,” Tony ran a hand through his hair, feeling the too-long strands and wondering when he was gonna have the time to cut it after all the goddamn paperwork he was going to have to fill out, “you’re not gonna get anything else from this. I’ll make the arrest- he won’t have gotten far.”

“Who- Rogers?”

“No, the fucking Mayor who owns a shit-ton of child porn,” Tony snapped, “Rogers is none of your concern, just forget about him. He’s my criminal, alright, and I’ll deal with him.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his car. A long drive across the tri-state area was really not something he fancied at that moment, but hey- at least it would be another bad guy down. 

He supposed he could thank Rogers for that much, at least. And… maybe a few of the others, too.  Okay, maybe all 29 others. But whatever. Still a criminal.

He built up a sigh in his lungs, readying to release it once he slid into the driver’s seat, but the air was promptly removed from his chest when he noticed that the backseat of the car had somehow become occupied in the space it had taken for Tony to go in an patronise the rookie. Which was very odd, and definitely a sign of something. Possibly dangerous, but somehow, Tony doubted it.

He stopped, glaring through the window and to the thoroughly tied and gagged mayor, now sporting the word ‘SCUM’ written across his forehead in what appeared to be permanent marker.

“I hate you,” Tony declared to the empty street, folding his arms, “I really, really do.”

“You were being slow,” Steve shrugged, popping up from the other side of the car, his blonde hair flopping over his eyes for a second before he tucked it away behind his ears, “and I had a free morning. Thought I’d save you the journey.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t appreciate it,” Tony said grumpily, “I should just shoot you in the knee and bring you in, you know. You’re a menace to society and I would be fired on the spot if they knew that I was stood here talking to you rather than arresting your ass.”

Steve laughed. “By all means, do your worst. I’d like to see how that would go down.”

Tony, unsurprisingly, did not. He’d seen what Steve could do- knew how slippery the bastard was. Quite frankly, he’d rather just save himself the embarrassment. “I should still shoot you.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You enjoy my company too much to do that.”

“Want a fucking bet, Rogers?”

“I bet my left kneecap.”

Tony pulled out his gun with brisk and brutal efficiency, but Steve just laughed.

Bastard.

“So- you get my letter?” Steve leaned across the side of the car, linking his fingers together and looking up toward Tony, who folded his arms defiantly, “what do you think? I’m always available for consulting- love to lend a hand when the cops can’t quite do it themselves. Or, you know, it could just be you and me. I’d prefer that, to be honest, and I’m not wrong when I say it would certainly be an exciting challenge-”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Tony interrupted him with stubbornly, starting to walk around to the other side of the car whilst Steve just chuckled and backed up, “anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-”

“Aw, shucks, Tony, I thought I was getting myself a date, not an arrest,” Steve shook his head, but he was still smiling as he drew up his hood.

“You have the right to an attorney,” Tony called out, beginning to speed up as Steve started jogging backwards, “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be-”

At that moment, Steve pressed a button in his hand- Tony’s fucking car keys- and unlocked the doors of his car. The guy in the back, seeing this development, wasted no time in starting to scramble out, falling on the street and onto all fours. “Me or him, Tony!” Steve called out in glee, tossing over the keys as he continued to jog away.

Tony turned in surprise, looking over to the man as he stumbled down he street. When he turned back, the skinny blond was nowhere to be seen. Fucking Rogers- he’d been trying to for a god damn year now and the little bastard was still slipping through his fucking fingers each time.

“-Provided for you DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE RIGHTS I HAVE JUST READ YOU!” Tony yelled, kicking a can in the middle of the road and then groaning irritably.

It was only eight in the fucking morning, and he was already yelling at nobody in the middle of the street.  He should have just become a fucking game designer. That sounded nice. Hassle free. No deceptively beautiful perps with infuriating tendencies to disappear into thin air in that line of work.

Grinding his teeth, he marched after the mayor and grabbed him back by the ties Steve had made around his wrists. A knee to the back of his leg and then Tony was repeating the same Miranda Rights all over again whilst the other 99% of his brain thought pleasantly about the next gallon of coffee he was about to pour directly into his central nervous system.

“I like it longer,” and then a hand brushed through his hair, soft and delicate and with bony fingers that made the top of his head feel tingly and warm.

Tony’s head jerked up, and he caught sight of Steve as he ran down the street, having stopped only to ruffle Tony’s hair before moving on again. He’d put a hand out to catch the wrist instinctively, but of course, by that point Steve was long gone.

The other man made a phone gesture and winked, before slipping around the corner again. Tony just watched him, hands still gripping on to the perp.

His hair felt warm. Maybe it wasn’t so bad a little longer, after all.

He groaned, but couldn’t help the tiny (teeny tiny- barely even there, really) laugh that escaped him.

Fucking Rogers.

[voilafandomonium-blog]

The Best Worst Proposal

Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine Pairing: Jake/Amy Rating: General/Teen (nothing explicit, or particularly mature. This is pure fluff) Disclaimer: Obviously I own none of the characters etc. Also, this is my first B99 fanfic, so beware (??). All mistakes are mine (feel free to point any out - I welcome constructive criticism/feedback).

Summary: It’s been a long week for Amy, and the last thing she expects is for Jake to pull an elaborate hoax to celebrate one of their anniversaries - and it’s not even an anniversary they’ve really celebrated before. But, because she loves him, she puts up with it (and in the end, it’s totally worth it).

Amy was exhausted after following up leads for almost a week concerning what seemed to be a low-level drug dealer. But after this many dead-ends, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was potentially more complex than she originally thought. Well, imagining that it was more complex was better than the alternative—that she missed something.

She entered the bullpen close to midnight, focused on how else she could approach the case. Case file in hand, she reread all available information. She just needed a new perspective, and potentially a new binder. She could organize all her leads and maybe she’d get that new perspective she needed.

“Five, four, three, two, one…”

Confused, Amy looked up to see Jake finish counting down before turning on celebratory music. Various members of the squad shot confetti into the air and began dancing in place with Jake before he slid forward on one knee. He only stopped when he was kneeling in front of her with a familiar red velvet jewelry box in his hand. It brought on an intense sense of déjà vu, but also made her heart stutter in anticipation.

Is this- could this be- no. He wouldn’t- her mind was struggling to process what was happening. All she could think was that her hair was probably a mess, and her makeup was probably smudged and everyone was looking at them, and Jake still wasn’t speaking. This was not how she had imagined (or planned) on being proposed to—if that was what this was! There was no evidence that Jake was proposing after three years of dating. Except the kneeling. And the ring box. And his smile. Oh God.

“Amy Santiago, you have made me the happiest man on earth for the past three years. I spent a liiiiiiiitle bit more than one whole dollar on this ring. In honor of our anniversary of the best worst date ever, will you go out with me again tomorrow? You have to say yes.” He paused, wrinkling his nose. “Except not really. Because you have equal say in this relationship. Obviously. And I know you’ve got that one case that just isn’t working out. But I checked your calendar before setting all this up. Whaddya say?”

Amy felt like laughing (and crying, but that wasn’t the point). Jake wasn’t proposing. She was so stupid. All that worrying (and excitement and giddiness, shut up) for nothing. He was just being a dork and trying to celebrate one of their anniversaries.

“Ames?”

“Oh! Of course. I can’t wait to celebrate the best worst date ever with you.” She says, unable to hold back the giggle at the back of her throat.

Jake looked at her a little oddly at the giggle before sliding the ring on her finger—her left ring finger, not that it was important.

“Promise to keep it on, Ames? This one took a few tries to get, and I’ll be crushed—nay, devastated—if you lose it.” He requested with a goofy grin, holding her hand tightly. The goofy grin though...was it a little strained at the edges?

Before Amy could examine it more closely, Jake’s face shifted into his normal dopey look. Accepting that the ring was part of whatever scheme he had brewing for their date (it brought to mind a few other dates he had planned that were met with only moderate success—like the roller-skating incident) Amy nodded. “Sure, babe.”

Finally getting up to both feet, Jake grinned enthusiastically. “Thanks. You’re the best Ames.”

“I know.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly before grabbing her bag. “You ready to head home?”

“Yep. Just gotta put a few files away.” He waved three casefiles at her before jogging over to the records room. Amy contemplated following him (they’ve had some good times in that room) before deciding that it would require far too much energy. Falling into her chair, she began reorganizing her drawers while waiting.

She’s only made it through her top drawer when Jake reappeared. Putting on her coat and swinging her purse over her shoulder, she accepted Jake’s hand and waved goodbye to the rest of the squad.

With the familiarity of Jake’s conversation washing over her, the difficulty of her current case prodding the back of her mind and the exhaustion of a long day finally setting in, there was barely any room left in her mind to notice that the ring felt a little heavier than the one from five years ago.

Amy is nothing if not conscientious, but the ring that she told Jake she would keep on created some problems in her regular routines. She couldn’t shower with it, and had to remember to put it back on in the morning (after she had forgotten to put it on last night, after washing her face, Jake had complained—he was really serious about her keeping it on, for whatever reason). It got caught in her hair a few times as she ran her fingers through her hair after waking up, and it pulled at a loose thread in her pajama top as she was changing. But, Amy kept the ring on, because she told Jake she would (and Jake had put up with her and worn the matching sweaters she thought would be so cute on Thanksgiving. The least she could do was wear this stupid ring even if it made her heart beat a little funny).

She only had to tell two people that she wasn’t actually engaged. The first was her barista, Lauren. Lauren was their ‘regular’ barista, and Amy would almost consider her a friend. Almost. Upon seeing the ring, Lauren had squealed and attracted the attention of a few customers and her coworkers.

“Jake finally popped the question?” Lauren was grinning. “Lemme see that ring!”

Ignoring the embarrassment (God, it was so similar to the actual worst date, when she had been so goddam embarrassed in that horrible dress. Was that Jake’s plan all along? Because if it was, she had underestimated his planning ability) and everyone’s curious faces, Amy grinned ruefully. “No. He didn’t propose. This is just a gag – celebrating one of our anniversaries.”

Lauren looked crestfallen. “Really? Too bad, it looks like a nice ring – and it suits you.”

Except for the fact that it was plastic and cubic zirconia, Amy would have agreed. It could have been a tasteful round diamond bracketed by smaller baguette diamonds in a simple setting. Something she would have chosen for herself. But Amy knew better. “If only it weren’t plastic, right? Can I have our usual?”

“Sure thing. It’ll just take a second.” Lauren accepted the debit card and ran it before gesturing Amy to the side to wait.

The second person she tried to explain it to was a well-meaning older woman, also waiting for her drink.

“I don’t understand. You’ve got the boy, and the ring, but you aren’t engaged?”

“Yes. My boyfriend has an…interesting sense of humor. He likes to celebrate things a little differently. This is a joke.”

“What kind of joke is a fake engagement?”

“It’s not a fake engagement. We just…aren’t engaged.” Amy had to physically restrain herself from saying yet. “We’re only celebrating one of our anniversaries.”

“Hmph. I just don’t understand you young people.”

Before Amy could defend her generation of young people, the woman had gathered her tea and left.

After that, she just accepted the congratulations. It was easier. Also, only like two extra people offered congratulations.

Getting to the precinct, Charles took one look at her and giggled. Amy ignored him. He was probably just imagining that the ring was real (not unlike what she was doing), and was demonstrating his overinvestment in her and Jake’s relationship. Or he was in on whatever joke Jake had planned.

Surprisingly, a few of the perps around the bullpen and in the holding cell congratulated her (their frequent flyers - ones who remembered that Jake and Amy together. Amy tried to ignore how touched she was that they cared). Someone tried to steal the ring (she got to twist the dude’s arm up behind his back like she’d seen Rosa do before), and another gave her a lead on her drug case. After a late (late, late, really late) lunch, Jake texted her about their night. He and Rosa were on a stakeout for a string of B&Es they were working.

Wear something nice tonight. Idk when I’ll be back, so ill pick you up @ home @ 8

. . .

You mean you’re not going to choose my outfit this time?

. . .

Haha, Santiago. Not tonight. Unless you can finally admit that my fashion sense is superior

. . .

Never. You forget that I’ve seen you in a speedo.

. . .

And you loved every second of it.  Gtg, think the perp is here. Love you!!!!

. . .

Love you too.

Putting her phone down, she couldn’t help but be distracted by the stupid ring again. It was remarkably shiny for a gumball machine ring and reflected surprisingly well in the precinct’s harsh fluorescent lighting (just like it did in the sunlight). Avoiding the potential daydreams that she had been succumbing to more and more frequently (that involved a real diamond ring and an intimate ceremony not unlike the one she had planned for Rosa those years back), Amy went back to her paperwork. If she finished up the paperwork and logged evidence efficiently, she may be able to clock out at a reasonable time so she wouldn’t look like a total troll tonight (those were Gina’s words. Amy had made a note to look it up on UrbanDictionary. Weren’t those troll dolls supposed to be kind of cute?).

Eight o’clock found her in a blue dress, waiting for Jake to pick her up from the apartment. She was feeling oddly nostalgic for their (best) worst date, and the horrendous dress Jake had chosen. Instead of the hideous monstrosity with bow, this blue dress was actually flattering, and didn’t make her feel like she was fourteen again (or make her feel like Jake’s second choice. What was so great about Jenny Gildenhorn, anyways?).

Six minutes later, a car horn honked. Then honked again. And again, prolonged this time.

“That idiot.” Amy muttered, locking the door behind her as she rushed down the stairs. Opening the outer door, she was met by Jake, standing by the car, preparing to honk again.

“Wow, Jake. You’re really taking this…reenactment kind of far, don’t you think?”

Jake grinned before jogging over to open the passenger door for her.

“When have I ever taken things too far?” He joked. Amy gives him her patented Really? Are you kidding me, Peralta? look. “At least I’m not wearing the shorts.” He defended before closing the door behind her. Amy had to admit that she’s glad he’s not wearing the shorts—though he did dress up with a coat and tie (Amy couldn’t help but think that it was sweet that he actually took the time to think about changing for tonight before he left for work in the morning). It’s a pleasant change from the regular plaid/hoodie/jacket combo he usually wears at work (although, to be honest, she’s found herself to be quite a fan of that look too).

Closing his own door behind him, he paused to lean over and kiss her lightly on the cheek before moving in for a more intimate kiss. She smiled into it, leaning towards him and angling her head to try and take control. He grunted lightly before giving in. Too quickly, he pulled back and gave her a peck on the lips.

“You look gorgeous, Ames. Definitely should have let you dress yourself the first time.”

“Aww, where would the fun in that be, though?”

Jake laughs. “You’re right. Definitely wouldn’t have been any fun.”

The drive was spent in comfortable conversation. Amy critiques Jake’s driving while he cracks jokes. Intermittently, they discuss a few of their open cases. Amy hasn’t brought up her troublesome one yet, wanting to let it sit in her mind a little longer before bringing it up to Jake. Without realizing it, she’s apparently developed the habit of spinning the ring around her finger. The habit only came to her attention when Jake reached out to hold her hand halfway through their drive (offhandedly, she thought about how it would be a bitch to quit the habit, once she took the ring off).

After they’ve parked, she realizes they’re at Shaw’s. “Just like the actual date?” She asked him, walking into the bar still holding Jake’s hand. All Jake could do was nod and grin (is that a bashful grin?) before they’re met by almost the entire precinct. The night started like any other night after work—drinks with the squad, stories about best/worst perps, teasing Boyle and a few harmless bets. It didn’t feel like anything special (not that it had to, Amy would spend time with Jake however she can). But it shifted when Jake asked her to dance.

She still wasn’t the best dancer (unlike Jake—though she still hadn’t learned where he gained that particular talent), but she has undoubtedly improved over the years. “I swear to God, Peralta, if you’re going to try and make me dance that jig from The Titanic, I will murder you in your sleep.” She threatened. It was still unclear how far Jake is going to take them down memory lane.

“Nah, not tonight. Figured we could just sway a bit. That’s something you can handle, right?”

Rolling her eyes, Amy purposely stepped on Jake’s foot. The bastard just laughed before unexpectedly forcing her into a turn. She betrayed herself by laughing. Their planned swaying quickly evolved (devolved? Amy’s not sure exactly how to classify it) into poorly executed dips and twirls. But she and Jake were laughing the whole time, and it never occurred to her to chastise him for being a goof. It’s part of why she loves him, after all. And really, it felt remarkably romantic.

By the time the crowd has changed over to the drunker and/or late night party types, they’re saying their goodbyes and putting on coats in preparation for, as Jake called it, ‘Part 2 of the most amazingly awful best worst date in the history of ever.’

Amy barely had time to complain about the length of his name before they’re stepping out of the car again. The neighborhood wasn’t the greatest and she couldn’t see anything that looked like a place you would take someone on a date. Suddenly, she realized exactly where they are.

“Oh my god, Jake. Seriously? The building from our stakeout?” Amy was a little ashamed that her voice comes out more affectionate than she had planned. This was not what she would call an occasion to dress nice.

“Gotta do this right.” Jake says. For a split second his face showed shock before morphing into a forced look of humor. “Even brought some peanuts, ‘cuz you know I get snacky.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “How are we supposed to get into the building?”

“Through the door. Duh.”

Confused, Amy watched as he unlocked the front door and gestured her through. The last time they were here after hours they had to sneak in. Walking up the stairs, Amy can’t help but wonder how Jake got a key—how much planning had he put into this (subpar, if she’s being honest) date? The only thing it really has going for it is Jake, who usually finds ways to make all her days better. While it’s been fun to reminisce, part of her would have rather just stayed in and watched Property Brothers or something.

On the roof, she sat on a crate, trying to ignore the goosebumps on her legs. She admired the view (it’s not that great, actually) and waits for Jake to join her. As he sat down, he draped a blanket over her lap, successfully covering her legs and keeping her warm. A bit of her vague irritation leaks away.

“Thanks, babe.” She murmured.

“No problem. I know how cold you get. Your feet are like freezer-burned popsicles in the morning.”

“Hey! I can’t help the temperature of my feet!” she replied in fake outrage—this wasn’t a new argument.

“Socks, Amy. Socks help to keep our tootsies all toasty warm.” Jake said. “Dammit, I ruined the serious vibe I had going on. But how I could I not say ‘tootsies’ or ‘toasty warm’?”

Seeing Jake’s genuinely  concerned face, Amy couldn’t help but laugh. “If you hadn’t said either, I would have been concerned.”

Seeming to accept that, Jake nodded along before tossing a peanut up in the air and catching it neatly in his mouth. “Ready, Ames?”

“Hit me.”

They spent the next few minutes tossing peanuts back and forth. Amy noted, with a fair amount of pride, that she has definitely improved since their first night on this rooftop.

Jake, however, has been doing worse and worse as the night wears on.

“You okay, Peralta? Are my stupendous skill psyching you out?” She joked, trash-talking him as he missed yet another peanut.

His eyes, which had previously been rather glazed over, quickly refocused. He gave her a quick (and rather unconvincing) grin. “Yeah, your ‘volume is key’ strategy is really psyching me out, Santiago. Here, this’ll be a high one. Ready?”

Amy nodded. “Born ready.”

Jake tossed the peanut up in the air. Amy tilted her head back, trying to follow its path. She leans back a bit…almost there.

It bounced off her forehead.

“Dammit! Peralta, that ones on you, because that was a terrible throw!” She was laughing as she said it though, sitting up straight and getting ready to throw him a peanut (she’s thinking she’ll just chuck it in the air, see if he’ll run after it like the goober he is).

But, when she’s finally totally straightened up and has her eyes open (they’d been closed before, in laughter, she thinks), Jake was in front of her. Kneeling on one knee. And looking the most serious she has ever seen him.

Everything freezes.

“Oh.”

“Amy Santiago.” He grins. A genuine, god-i-love-you grin that reached his somewhat glassy eyes. Amy’s eyes were feeling a little glassy (i.e. wet) too, to be honest.

He continued, “I wasn’t lying when I said you’ve made me the happiest man on earth for the past three years. But, years ago we went on the best worst date ever and that was the moment that I realized what you could be to me—that you could be everything. And you are. I’ve been kind of obsessed with you since then, and I can only hope that you feel a little of the same,” Jake takes a deep breath before chuckling, “because I’d be honored if you would embark on the incredibly un-boring adventure of life together-”

Without her explicit permission, a choked little giggle-sob escapes Amy’s mouth. Jake ducks his head, and matches her with a wet-sounding chuckle.

“And continue to wear that ring for the rest of your life. Because it was definitely a little more expensive than the one I gave you almost five years ago. I’ve typed this speech up, revised it an practiced it a million times - Santiago style.” He winked. “So, Amy Santiago. Will you marry me?”

Amy never thought she would be one of those girls that cried when she was proposed to—she was too logical. Besides, she never thought she would be surprised by her proposal. It would be something she and her partner discussed and agreed on (more of a contract/mutual decision, her brain supplied). But here she was, crying.

But, Amy realized, she never expected to be partners with a man like Jake Peralta. Someone who pushed her and her buttons, who made her laugh and smile and made life always seem like an adventure. Someone who made her a better person, and drove her crazy in the best way possible despite (or because of) their differences.

“Uh, Ames? Should I stand up? Are you still thinking, or…?”

“Oh god.” She hadn’t answered. “Of course. Yes, I’ll marry you Jake. I would love to. Oh my god.”

Jake just laughed, lowering his head over where he had been gripping her left hand. “Thank god. I was starting to get a little worried.” He joked with her as he pulled her up to stand with him.

Amy could see in his eyes, though, that there had been a small part of him (the part of him that always reminded him that his dad left, and thought that he wasn’t worth her love. This was also the part that Amy endeavored every day to prove wrong) that had been worried.

“I love you. So much.” She reminded him.

“I love you, so much, too.” He responds before kissing her deeply.

Their first kiss as an engaged couple her brain reminded her. She smiled, giddy at the thought. Because she was kissing her fiance. And she was wearing an engagement ring-

Abruptly, she pulled away. Jake’s eyes popped open. “Not to complain, but you kind of ruined our moment there Santiago-”

“Are you telling me that I’ve been wearing an actual engagement ring for over 24 hours, thinking that it was a cheap vending machine ring?”

“Uh…maybe?”

“What if I had lost it? Or thrown it away because I thought it was stupid? Oh my god…”

“Well, then you would have plunged me back into crushing debt, babe. But you didn’t. Just like I knew you wouldn’t. Because you owe me after the Thanksgiving sweaters. But mostly because I know you still have the actual cheap plastic one in your jewelry box.”

Amy blushed. Because he was right—that stupid, scuffed, plastic ring was sitting in her jewelry box. She had retrieved it after their fake fight. And ever since then, it had been safely tucked away.

“Besides, this’ll make a great story to tell the kids. How their mom didn’t even realize it was the real engagement ring until a day later. Some detective you are.”

Amy punched him in the shoulder, ignoring his muttered ow. “Just because you’re my fiance doesn’t mean that I won’t still kick your ass.”

Instead of responding, Jake just grinned at her dopily.

“Jake?”

“You called me your fiance.”

Amy blushed before squaring her shoulders. “Well, you are my fiance. Besides, didn’t you just reference our unborn children? When did we discuss kids?”

It was Jake’s turn to blush. “I, uh, guess we didn’t. But, I kind of assumed…which I shouldn’t have. But, well. I want to. And I hope you do-”

Amy cut him off with a kiss. “I do too. We can talk numbers later. For now…let me just enjoy kissing my fiance.”

Jake grinned before obliging her.

Less than a minute later, he pulled away. “So, I was definitely going for a romantic vibe here, but whaddya say we move it inside?”

“Oh god yes, I’m so cold.”

“Plus, I figured a bed might be nice.”

“Ooooh, I like the way you think, babe.”

Jake winked at her playfully (it was a horrible wink – his entire face scrunched up) before gathering their stuff and grabbing her hand.

Laughing and kissing the whole way down the stairs they practically fell into the car. Amy spent the entire car ride with her left hand in Jake’s right. She could feel him stroking the ring and feel the metal heating up from their joined hands.

It was only later, lying in bed with Jake (this time he was absentmindedly stroking her back, with their fingers linked on his chest) that she realized she’ll never have to take the ring off. It will stay there forever, eventually joined by a second one—one that will match the ring he will eventually wear. She could keep spinning it around her finger forever.

She could go to the coffee shop tomorrow and show Lauren the ring for real, find that woman and tell her that the engagement is real. She could accept people’s congratulations because she really is getting married. To Jake Peralta. He’ll be her husband. And she’ll be his wife.

It was to those happy thoughts that Amy Santiago fell asleep, half laying on her fiance, with a smile on her face.

I really do hope y’all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it.

[the-avenging-writer]

Part of a Pack

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Summary: You already had a pack; your dad and two brothers. But when you move to Beacon Hills, keeping the family secret becomes increasingly difficult… especially as you grow close to a specific Lacrosse captain.

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my first Teen Wolf series. Woo! Let me know what you think.

No particular reason led Patrick Stone to move back to Beacon Hills; he just felt drawn to return to his old hometown. This is the town where his life had changed drastically. Nearly twenty years ago he had been bitten by a werewolf, which not only turned his life upside down, but made it significantly better. He always considered the ‘bite’ a gift, one he was blessed to receive. So when Patrick had children with his mate, he gave them the bite as a ‘coming-of-age’ gift.

Stone’s youngest child, (Y/N), was the most recently turned werewolf... and also the reason they were forced to move yet again. While you were good at staying in the background, you had a gift that many were envious of.

You could shift.

Not only from human to werewolf, but into a full wolf form. When local hunters heard of your power, you became the new challenge they yearned to take on.

This time, you had been given strict orders by your father: If anyone found out about your ability, you’d be forced to move again. You, being tired of being a new kid, agreed wholeheartedly and swore to yourself not to let anyone find out about you or your family.

You climbed out of your brother’s old car and faced the new high school you’d be attending: Beacon Hills High School. “How original.” You muttered under your breath as your brother, Harry, threw his arm around you.

“You ready little sis?” He asked, a confident smirk playing on his lips. This was easy for him. He was outgoing and well-liked, if not a little mischievous. You, however, weren’t.

You shook your head in response to his question, and Harry rolled his eyes as he opened the front door of the school. “Come on, (Y/N). We just can’t let anyone figure it out, and we can stay here longer. Maybe even graduate.”

“Of course you can say that,” You countered. “You’re a senior this year, I’m just a sophomore. There is no way I’m making it three years.”

“Alright, Debby Downer, fine. Then just blend in for the next seven months, and then I can graduate.” Harry said, landing a soft elbow to your ribs as the two of you walked down the deserted hallway. It was early and hardly any students came earlier than when they had to.

“I'm not even the one you need to worry about.” You said quietly. “You’re the troublemaker, Collin is the hot-head, and dad... well, you know how dad gets.” Harry didn’t respond.

As the two of you continued to look for the main office, a man in a casual shirt and bedhead exited an assumed teacher workroom with a stack of papers and a cup of coffee.

“Excuse me, sir!” Harry called out, trying to get the man’s attention. The man turned to face the two of you, and you let your brother do the talking. “We’re new here and looking for the office...” The man’s brown eyes darted between the two of you as if he was still trying to process what you were doing there.

“You two are new?” He restated, and Harry nodded slowly. The man seemed to think something over in his head before finally stating it aloud. “I’m the coach here, Coach Finstock. Also the economics teacher but that’s not important. ANyway, I’m always looking for new players for the lacrosse ream if you’d be interested.” The coach was directing all of his attention on Harry while you stood beside him, invisible. You nudged your brother. He had just been lecturing you about being careful... if he-

“I would love to try out.” Harry said with a friendly smile. You clenched your jaw and cleared your throat, but Harry ignored you. “What time is practice?”

The coach was enthusiastic about the possibility of a new player. “How about you,” he looked down at you and pointed to a room just down the hall, “go pick up the new student paperwork in the office, and I’ll show you around.” He looked back at your brother who agreed eagerly. You raised an eyebrow, but it went unnoticed.

“Go get the papers, I’ll meet back up with you later.” Harry said as the coach led him down the hall, the two of them already chatting effortlessly. You sighed and headed to the door the coach had just pointed at.

The office was carpeted and a few seats were positioned along the wall closest to the door. A gray-haired woman in her sixties looked up from the desk. “How can I help you?” She asked as her glasses slid down her nose.

“I’m a new student here,” you explained. “Today’s my first day and I was told I have to get my schedule and some paperwork...” You trailed off, not really knowing what to say but that seemed to be enough.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/N) Stone.” You answered, and the lady nodded.

“Ahh, here we are.” She said, clicking through folders on her desktop computer. “Let me print these for you.” She said and the machine behind her buzzed as it began warming up.

“My brother is here too, Harry Stone? Would it be possible if I get his schedule as well?” The receptionist nodded and clicked through several more windows before finding the right one.

While the papers were printing, you rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet. It was an awkward, uncomfortable silence as the papers slowly revealed themselves from the printer. After a stack of thirty plus papers, the lady stapled all but two together.

“Alright, I need your parent’s signature on all these papers.” She said, pointing to the thick packet with the end of a pen. “Since it’s you and your brother, just have your guardian put both your names on it, so he doesn’t have to sign twice the papers.” She explained quickly, and you tried to follow along. “And here are you and your brother’s schedules.” She said, placing the two unstapled papers in front of you.  “I hope you two like it here.” She said, and you gathered the papers.

“Thank you.” You said, before quickly leaving the office only to find your brother waiting in one of the seats in the hallway. “You better get used to sitting there,” You quipped.

“Very funny.” Harry said, sounding angry. “Now hurry up, I need to show you something before more people get here.” There were a few students now lingering in the hallways and open classrooms. Harry grabbed your arm and led you down the hall before you could argue. He was headed toward the locker rooms; you could smell them long before you arrived.

“Do you smell that?” He asked, as the two of you stopped outside the guy’s locker room.

“The locker room? Seriously? Yeah, I smell it. It’s disgusting.” You said, but Harry rolled his eyes.

“No.” He growled. “Smell past it.”

“Are you kidding?” You whined. “I don’t want to use my nose anywhere near this place.”

“Just do it.” Harry said, impatiently. “I need to make sure. I want to see if you smell it too.” You sighed and closed your eyes, allowing your wolf senses to take over to heighten your sense of smell.

You breathed in and almost gagged on the overwhelming smell of old socks and sweaty uniforms, but there was an underlying scent that was undeniable.

Your eyes flew open and you looked up at your brother, who looked just as uneasy. “Did you smell it?” You silently nodded.

“Looks like we aren’t the only werewolves in high school.”