#i need to stop talking actually i’m only incriminating myself further… ​i’ve said too much already

[fae-of-prey]

the vibe rafe cameron brings to the function i fear…

[ninamitoo]

FALLING

HPhogwartsmystery - Talbott Winger x Reader

Author‘s note: This is supposed to be a one-shot but since there aren’t many stories about Talbott x reader I’ll be posting 2nd and 3rd part (if you’ll be interested).  Also English isn’t my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes.

Wordcount: 1200

Pairing: Talbott Winger x reader / MC / Y/N (your name)

I first became aware of Talbott Winger thanks to a coincidence. Back than I had never imagined that this boy could get under my skin so quickly. I could say it all started thanks to Tulip.

It was a normal day. I came to the Great Hall and saw Tulip standing with Barnaby at the very end. The sight of the two of them together was more than unusual, so I decided to investigate.

”Hi Y/N. Barnaby and I were just discussing Talbott Winger.” Tulip greeted me. When I asked who he is the answer was “a Ravenclaw who keeps to himself.”

”They also say his dad is a vampire, and his mum is a mermaid!” Barnaby joined the conversation with a disturbing look on his face. Looks like I'm not the only one with strange rumors circulating around school. What actually caught my attention was the fact that he’s attempting to brew an Animagus Potion. Since the first lesson with professor McGonagall I have dreamed about becoming an Animagus myself. Maybe if I talked Talbott into brewing an extra Animagus Potion for me, I can finally fulfill one of my dreams. Not to mention how much easier it’d be to sneak around school in animal form…

”He’ll shut you down.” Tulip crushed my completely bulletproof plan. ”It might be best to ask around about him first…“ Suggested Barnaby. Since it was a good idea I started asking about Talbott everyone who was still in the Great Hall. Unfortunately, he was sitting a few feet away from me, and as I found out later, he heard everything.

”If you want to know something about me, just ask.“ He says as soon as I sit across from him. He took me by surprise. Not knowing what to say I blurted out the first thing which came to my mind: ”How did you know I was talking about you?“

”My hearing is almost as good as my eyesight.“ He asnwers without any emotion. ”Besides, I’m used to people talking about me.“ How can I relate to that… I decided not to beat around the bush and straightforward asked if he was brewing an Animagus Potion, however he denied it. His cold response told me not to push any further and with a quiet sorry to bother you, I got up to leave. His next sentence stoped me. ”Is it true you sneaked into Filch’s Office?“ Not wanting to incriminate myself, I lied. ”No. Why? Do you want to get in?“

”I’m collectong things for a mutual friend of ours.“ He vaguely answered. ”We have a mutual friend?“

”You’re probably surprised I have any friends at all…“ Did I just hear a hint of pain in his voice? ”No, not really. Everyone has friends and with everything I’ve seen at Hogwarts, nothing surprises me anymore.“ I shruged with my shoulders to seem like I don’t really think much of it, but in reality I secretly hoped my answer will comfort him. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to be sad. ”We’ll see about that.“ Talbott said. A little smirk appearing on his face.

”What do you mean?“

”Let’s go Y/N L/N. You can show me how you definitely did not sneak into Filch’s office.“ And just like that I fell into a trap called Talbott Winger. With each passing day I wanted to know more about him, what he likes, what is he doing. When I was able to conjure a smile on his face, it was the best feeling I had experienced. Much better than when we won first Quidditch Cup. But… He didn’t saw me as a friend. Not until I pushed him into allowing me to help find his lost necklace. That’s when he finally admited, he sees me as a friend. As someone he can trust and rely on. When I heard him say these words, my heart made a few somersaults. In that very moment I realised I don't fancy him anymore. I have totally fallen for him.

                                                       *******

One particular night I couldn’t fall asleep. I decided I’ll tire myself out by going on a fly around the castle. After putting on a sweatshirt and shoes, I shifted into my animagus form and flew through the open window. After flying for several minutes I noticed a very familiar looking eagle heading fot the owlery. With a graceful movement of my wings I change direction and follow my new friend. When I land, I transform back into my human form, but Talbott still remains in his animal. He is resting on one of the loose perches, looking at me curiously.

”I couldn’t sleep.“ I answer his silent question, taking a few steps forward, shortening the distance between us. His feathers shine beautifully in the moonlight. I couldn't resist the urge to touch his plumage. I lightly touch the side of his wing.

”Your feathers looks really beautiful.“ I whisper into the dark night not entirely sure if I didn't cross the border. His pupil narrows in surprise. His body gets surrounded by a yellowish glow, and I realise too late that he is transforming back into his human form. Surprised, I don't have time to dodge and within a second I find myself face to face with his firm chest. His pleasant scent immediately surrounds me, and I realize that I am absorbing it voraciously in an effort to remember it. He must have noticed. This got awkward really quickly… With a shy sorry i take a few steps back and look up at him. His look took my embarrassment to a whole new level. He was covering his face with his hand, furiously averting his gaze. Is he blushing?

”Did you…“ His voice was a pitch lower than usual. After clearing his throat he looked down at me. Yep, he was definitely blushing. ”Do you really think that?“ I felt my cheeks begin to burn. ”Yes… I do.“ I honestly answer unable to look him in the eye. The last time I confessed my feelings it didn’t go exactly well. Thank goodness I erased his memories.

”Do I look good only in my Animagus form?“ He asks. Something in his voice forced me to look at him. He was serious. He needed to know. The request in his eyes told me I have to tell him the truth. Now or never.

With a shaky breath I compose myself. ”No. I think you look very handsome every time I see you.“ After hearing my response his cheeks darkened with deep red. A mischievous grin curls his mouth into a smile. Why does he looks like he just won?

”Good to know.“ He simply answers lovering himself to my heigh. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear with his hand, looking directly into my eyes. His hot breath tickled my lobe. ”I think you look absolutely gorgeous yourself.“ And with that, he transformed back into an eagle and left.

The heart impetuously beats for the boy who just gave her hope.

”Falling in love with him I hadn’t expected. But being in love with him is something I couldn’t stop even if I tried.“

[spacedikut]

how to ask a girl out ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: elle sees an opportunity to teach spencer about asking a girl out. 3275 words

a/n: based on this scene. this is the longest fic ive ever written so sorry if it’s a painful read 

Spencer feels creepy staring at you like this.

There’s no other way to put it. He feels like he’s twelve again, the youngest in his Las Vegas high school, staring at all the pretty girls that get his heart racing just by existing. But you’re more enchanting than those girls. He could watch you do anything, he thinks, because no matter what you’re doing you look picture perfect, like you don’t have a single bad angle.

Spencer still has the social skills of twelve year old him, though. Especially when dealing with cute people.

“You know,” The voice makes Spencer jump, “If you stare long enough, she just might notice.”

Elle is smirking with her arms crossed, shooting Spencer an incriminating look. He tenses.

Seeing his discomfort, Elle relents, “I’m teasing, Reid.” He visibly relaxes against the door frame he’s half hiding behind, half leaning against.

“I’m not trying to be weird.” He mumbles. Elle thinks he sounds like a kid that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I know you’re not. Have you… spoken to her?”

You’re somewhat new to the unit. Some kind of assistant to JJ who joined several months ago (three months and three days, if Spencer counted correctly) (he did), which means the team don’t see you that much, just enough that you’ve been the topic of discussion a few times. It doesn’t help that JJ sings your praise, and Hotch recently revealed you made yourself available for babysitting his new-born if he ever needs it. Every time someone mentions you, it’s followed by some kind of compliment. Everyone loves you. Spencer has said all of five words to you, and he’s smitten.

“Hi. I’m Spencer. A doctor.”

When you were introduced you didn’t pay him much attention. He can’t blame you, it was overwhelming for you – being introduced to a whole bunch of FBI agents and then thrown head-first into sorting cases for them. But Spencer paid attention. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Derek’s caught him staring one too many times, but it isn’t Spencer’s fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You enter the room and Spencer’s attention is pulled to you, like a magnet.

Derek thinks it’s time he made a move. Spencer agreed and maintained that confidence for all of fifteen minutes, until he heard your joyful laugh dance down the hallway and his tongue felt too heavy to form words.

That’s when Elle noticed.

Across the room, you’re laughing at something Derek said with JJ. Seeing you smile makes Spencer smile, and Elle nudges him.

“Have you considered approaching her? Rather than, you know, watching her from afar like she’s prey?”

Spencer huffs, “You think I haven’t tried?”

Every time he’s moved to start a conversation, he finds himself unable to complete a single sentence. After he says hello, then what? He dies?

Elle breathes through her nose in frustration. “She’s a nice girl. I’ve spoken to her a couple of times. She mentioned the other day she wants to visit the local museum, since she just moved and hasn’t really explored yet. Shame no one is available to accompany her, right?”

“Are you implying something?”

“Yes.”

“I-I don’t. I can’t-“

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Spencer’s always admired Elle’s ability to be blunt and fearless. But he isn’t Elle, Elle isn’t him, so to him it doesn’t feel like he simply chooses to pussy out of talking to you – it feels like he’s physically constrained. Like he’s fighting against the tide of the ocean to reach you, and he keeps getting pushed back, further and further away from you.

Elle’s eyes shift between you and Spencer, like she’s watching a tennis match. “Just go up and ask her. It’s that simple. If she says no, she says no. No big deal!”

Spencer shakes his head, “I can’t do that. It’s Y/N! She’s-she’s-“

“A normal human being. You know, like you and me? The second you start putting people on pedestals is when things start falling apart.” She pats him on the shoulder as encouragement, “Have some confidence, Reid.”

And she walks away, as if just telling him to have some confidence will make him suddenly have the courage to whisk you off your feet.

He wishes he could whisk you off your feet.

+++

The paperwork is never ending. Times like this, Spencer considers recanting his stance on technology – maybe having everything on an online database would be a good idea. The stacks upon stacks around him would agree.

A paper ball hits the back of Spencer’s head.

He turns, slowly, and Elle gives a wave from her desk. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can I… help you?”

“Yes, you can.” She nods to the paper on the floor, “Read it.”

He leans and grabs the ball from the floor, opening it with furrowed brows.

Step 1: Actually talk to her.

Suddenly, Elle is standing right next to him, looking all-too-pleased with herself. She leans over him.

“What does this mean?”

“You wanna date Y/N? Talk to her. That means marching right up to her pretty little face and saying more than, like, a few words to her. You need to have a conversation with her to let her know you’re interested.”

Elle’s clearly confident in her plan, but it seems she’s forgetting an important detail – this is Spencer that she’s dealing with. Not Derek, who can charm anyone out of anything (or into anything), not Hotch who, when he wants to be, is the smoothest criminal ever. Not even Gideon, with his soft eyes that make anyone that stares into them feel safe. He’s Spencer Reid who, according to one guy, looks like a pipe cleaner with eyes.

Spencer’s hesitant to take any of Elle’s advice.

“What would I… say to her?” He asks. If he does talk to you, what does he even say? Do you even want to talk to him? What if you immediately hate him and JJ beats him up? She could do it. He’s seen her guns.

Elle looks at him incredulously, “Reid! C’mon! Anything! Ask how her day has been, if she had a good weekend, are there plans for this weekend… Literally anything.” Spencer gives a look of distrust, “You’ll know if she’s interested, trust me. She’ll reciprocate. If she doesn’t, she’s not up for it, and there’s your answer without even asking her out.”

At that moment, you and JJ appear from thin air, whispering to one another with your arms full of files. Both Spencer and Elle’s watchful gazes follow you right up until JJ’s office door is clicked shut and when you can only slightly be seen through the blinds, Spencer still stares. Elle hits him over the head.

“Pay attention!”

“She’s distracting!”

“She walked by you, not gave you a lap dance! Focus on the plan!”

With a sigh, he looks back to the crumpled paper in his hands. “What’s step two?”

The paper’s yanked out of his hands and Elle furiously scribbles something before handing it back to him.

Step 2: Make her laugh.

“I can’t do that.”

She scoffs, “Reid.”

“People laugh at me, Elle, not with me. The only way she’ll laugh is if I make a complete fool of myself and when I do that, I’m running away and never looking back. You’ll never see me again.”

Sick of the self-deprecation, Elle leans close to Spencer’s face and begins to whisper menacingly.

“Listen, bud,” She threatens, “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You’re young, you’re inexperienced – that’s why approaching Y/N is so terrifying. Not because she’s out of your league, or you’re not good enough, it’s because you’ve never done this before. It’s simply a fear of stepping out of your comfort zone, so stop being so hard on yourself.”

Spencer isn’t sure how to respond, silently wishing something could get him out of this situation. He’s not used to being complimented so ferociously.

God answers his prayers. In the worst way possible.

“Incoming. Make her laugh, Reid.” Elle says, slinking off back to her desk.

Spencer quickly realises you’re approaching and his hands grip the armrests of his chair. He’s not ready for this. He wishes he had time to prepare, maybe google how to woo a woman, but you’re in front of him, all precious smiles with a manila folder in your hand.

“Hi, Doctor Reid.”

Your voices sounds like heaven. He can’t help but think, despite only listening to classical music, he could listen to your voice and only your voice if given the option. It’s like honey, sweet and smooth, and something inside him stirs. Everything about you is lovely.

He clears his throat and nervously wipes at his nose, “Hey. What can I do for you?”

“I was told to bring this to you,” You hand him the folder, “And JJ wanted me to check up on you. She said you’ve been working non-stop and that you probably consumed your bodyweight in coffee with enough sugar to give a small army diabetes. My guess is she wants to check your heart is still beating.”

Spencer laughs at that, which encourages you to giggle along. He freezes when he sees the way your eyes scrunch and smile widens when you laugh – he’d only seen it from a distance, up close it feels intimate and causes his throat to tighten. When your laughter dies, you’re left with an awkward silence as he stares. You shuffle your feet.

Elle is trying to look like she isn’t paying attention, but in her head she’s screaming at Spencer to say something!!!

“Sorry for disturbing you if you’re – um – if you’re busy.” You gesture to the mess on Spencer’s desk, and it’s then that he realises how his silence could’ve looked – to him, you quite literally took his breath away, but to you? He’s a weirdo that is still holding the file mid-air and hasn’t said a thing for far too long.

“No! No,” Spencer brushes his hair back, “Thank you for the file. JJ’s right, I should probably take a break-“

He looks up then. This is his chance, right?

“Are you busy right now?”

You glance around and your eyes find JJ’s office, where she’s signalling for you to come over, “Yeah. Sorry.”

It feels like a punch in the gut – is this rejection? – but there’s a look of sadness that crosses your face. Your mouth falls at the edges and your brows slightly crease – do you wish you weren’t busy?

If Spencer didn’t feel like he’s seconds away from vomiting, he’d ask. Maybe. That sounds a whole lot like flirting and he isn’t sure he can handle that.

You quickly leave, not before you tell him to look after himself (his heart swells), and the second you’re far enough away Elle is marching right over and throwing the paper at him, again, even though she’s standing right in front of him.

“She rejected me.”

“Yea- wait, what?” Elle starts to celebrate, but stops at her words, “No she didn’t. Did we see different things?”

“It sure felt like rejection. Felt weird.”

“That was the perfect chance to ask her to go out after work or maybe on the weekend, but, in your defence, that’s a Derek-level response and we’re not quite there yet. Step three, go.”

Spencer unfolds the paper ball begrudgingly, wondering if any of this is actually worth it.

Step 3: Get JJ to back the fuck up.

Spencer laughs.

“Either you tell JJ you like her assistant and ask for her help, or you tell JJ you like her assistant and that she needs to stop using her so much.” Elle sounds matter-of-fact and confident.

“You want me to tell JJ to stop giving her assistant work?” Spencer asks, face scrunched.

With a shrug, Elle says, “Or you could ask her to help you. She knows the most about Y/N.”

Looking up to JJ’s office, he realises how true Elle’s statement is. JJ knows you better than anyone else here, you’ve quickly become good friends, and JJ wouldn’t lie to Spencer about you if it involved his feelings. He trusts JJ like that.

But then you throw your head back in laughter, a hearty laugh that JJ follows with her own tinkling chuckle, and Spencer is reminded of the sinking feeling he’s had when he’s been rejected before. The emotional slap in the face that causes you to lose all confidence. In his head, he rationalises that attempting to ask you out is pointless. You won’t like him, scrawny profiler who follows his team members like a lost puppy, the guy unable to maintain eye contact for more than four seconds. The logical side, however, the side that runs the show when Spencer is on a case and hides his feelings, tells him he has nothing to lose. Morgan would be proud of him, not ashamed, because Spencer had the guts to ask someone out – Spencer! Elle would understand and tell him something about learning for next time, and the rest of the team wouldn’t really care.

He has nothing to lose and everything to gain. A date with you? A relationship with you? That’d feel like winning the lottery. It feels more likely than winning the lottery, too.

Then Morgan walks past him, more like swaggers, all good looks and charm and everything Spencer doesn’t have.

Spencer decides he’ll save himself the rejection.

+++

JJ gets involved without Spencer realising. He connects the dots on the way back to Virginia, after a case in which you were brought along instead of JJ.

There was a “family emergency”, apparently, after the debrief and right before take-off. Although it wasn’t your first case, it was your first time travelling with the team. When you pad in, sparkling eyes gliding all around the jet, Spencer zeroes in on the gruesome scene photos to avoid being caught staring.

You fit into the role flawlessly. It’s like you were born for the part, effortlessly slipping into the job of communicator between the team and the police force, standing fearlessly in front of the press as they piled on the pressure.

In the conference room where the team set up, he noticed you actively try to stay out of the way whilst simultaneously help in any way you could. You offered coffee every two hours (Spencer counted), cleaned up any and all rubbish the team left around – burger wrappers, useless post-it notes – and mothered the team by reminding them they need breaks, too.

At the hotel, you jokingly poked Spencer in the shoulder and said, “No more coffee for you. You’ll get a sugar rush and won’t be able to sleep.”

“Like a toddler?”

“Exactly like a toddler. Straight to bed for you.”

You grinned at eachother before you separated to go to your rooms. Around three am, Spencer instinctively went to make himself a drink but stopped and thought of you. He decided for that night, just that night, he could get a somewhat decent amount of sleep.

Now, on the flight home, Gideon pauses before his move in their third game of chess to stare at something behind Spencer’s shoulder. When he notices, Spencer turns to see what has his mentor’s attention and stutters when it’s you. You, looking like you’re straight out of a cheesy romance movie when you push your hair back while reading your book.

Gideon switches from staring at you to staring at Spencer.

“She’s a pretty girl, huh?”

Spencer knows where this is going.

“Elle told me you’re sweet on her.”

“Elle shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Elle has been watching you two the entire case.”

“Elle-“

Gideon clears his throat, making Spencer finally make eye contact, “You scared? Worried?”

“About what?” Spencer asks.

“Rejection. If she’ll laugh in your face, say something about never wanting anyone like you.”

Sometimes, Spencer is terrified of Gideon’s ability to read people. He swears he has this inhuman ability to take a peek into people’s minds, read their most intrusive and negative thoughts, and confront them about them. Like he’s doing to Spencer now.

“Something like that, yeah,” Spencer murmurs. He shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s your move.”

“I know.” Gideon nods to you, making Spencer look again, “Don’t you think, in twenty years’ time, you’d want to look back at this moment and be glad you asked? No matter the outcome? Rather than wondering if she’d said yes, asking all kinds of what-ifs…”

“You’re telling me to ask her out?”

Gideon gives Spencer a smile that fills him with confidence. He doesn’t know what it is, but he trusts Gideon with his whole life. If he tells him to go for it, then he should go for it, right?

“I happen to know the Virginia museum is having a deal on tickets if you order them online. Might be something to look into.” He sounds borderline smug now.

With one last look to Gideon, he stands and slowly waddles to the chair opposite you.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, a hand gently resting on the back of the empty seat. You startle slightly at the unexpected voice, but gesture for him to sit with a smile.

“How are you feeling?” You wonder, squinting slightly as the sun shines in your eyes. It makes them sparkle, and Spencer has never understood wanting to drown in someone’s eyes until that moment.

“Just glad the case is over. You did a great job, by the way, filling in for JJ last minute.” Spencer is surprised that his voice doesn’t crack or stop completely.

You beam at the praise, “Thank you. JJ’s got some big boots to fill, even if it’s for one case.”

He shrugs and pulls a face as if you’ve said something ridiculous, “Don’t sell yourself short. When she realises how good you are, she’ll start taking all kinds of holidays.” He jokes.

He can’t help but grin when you laugh.

Elle passes. In the very brief eye contact they make, Elle’s eyes are wide and jumping from you to Spencer, Spencer to you. She’s sending him a message, and he bets Gideon is watching, too.

“Hey,” He starts, leaning on the table between you. You instinctively lean closer, too, which Spencer takes as a positive sign, “How would you.. like…”

He has to take a second to inhale a shaky breath and nervously push his hair behind his ears. You wait, all patient and divine, and his eyes dash around your face.

“To go to the museum with me?”

It comes out rushed and you look confused. “Huh?”

Spencer tries again, after clearing his throat, “How would you like to go to the museum with me? When we get back. As a date.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“…Yes?”

If you weren’t staring directly at him, he’d think you were making fun of him and about to unleash a nice bout of rejection.

You move one hand to lean your face against, moving in a little closer, “I would love that.”

Spencer is speechless. You would love that?

“Oh- wow. Yeah, thanks. Good.”

Who says thanks when someone agrees to go on a date with them?

You giggle.

“We’ll plan when we get back?” You ask.

“Yes. Definitely.” He nods three times.

You can’t help but bite your lip, he’s too cute, and it immediately draws Spencer’s attention.

Behind you both, Gideon turns to Elle. “Success.”

Elle rolls her head against the back of her seat and stares out the window, “Step four: Get Gideon to get the job done.”

[shysneeze]

persausion (part one)

George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader  

*part one*

Description: two years after she’s broken George’s heart at the hand of her parents’ persuasion, she bumps into George at the leaky and everything comes flooding back .

 Warnings: alcohol, angst and I want to say swearing but I genuinely don’t think there is. It’s very AU. Fred is alive because he deserves to be (let me know if there is any ive missed please) 

(Author note: not what i wanted it to be hence long ass delay in posting cause i got angry but hey ho. Also can you tell I’ve literally given myself a big fat crush on Fleur??”)

series masterlist 

~

A giggle bubbles in (Y/N)’s throat as she sways slightly, arm hooked through Fleur’s as they struggle their way across the cobblestone of Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron in their heels. The winter air is crisp, and it bites at their bare skin. The plan was devised at the last minute and mostly fuelled by the buzz left from the bottle of wine they’d shared in (Y/N)’s apartment.

“It’s freezing!” Fleur shivers. “Why didn’t we bring jackets?”

“Excitement?” (Y/N) laughs with a slight shrug of her shoulder. “Probably the wine.”

“Definitely the wine.”

The woman burst into another fit of giggles, followed swiftly by a hiss of relief when they enter the warmth of the pub. They pause in the doorway together, long enough to fix each other’s hair and pull their dresses down. It’s not until they step further into the pub that (Y/N)’s smile begins to fade as the voices grow louder, and suddenly, she remembers why they usually stick to drinking in her apartment.

She can see it happening every time she steps in a crowded shop or in this case, pub, the exact moment that she goes from being a stranger in the corner of someone’s eye to (Y/N) Malfoy, first daughter of a notorious ex-deatheater. It’s no different this evening and her eyes sink to the floor when the whispering begins, already uncomfortable and longing to return to her apartment. Her change in demeanour doesn’t slip by unnoticed by Fleur who has already begun to fend off the dirty looks with a well-practiced glare of her own.

“Why is it so busy in here tonight?” Fleur sighs dramatically, standing slightly on her toes to see over the mass of people that are lingering around the bar without seats. “We’ll never get a booth!”

“How tragic.” (Y/N) makes an attempt to tease. “We’ll have to go back and drain the bottle of gin you got me for my birthday now.”

“No!” Fleur whines. “I have only just gotten you out of that apartment and I will not let you back out now. You’ll become a recluse!”

“Ouch.” (Y/N) pouts. “That’s harsh.”

Her own hurt at the comment is unconvincing to even (Y/N) herself as her pout soon turns into another bout of giggles. Fleur laughs with before returning to look out, searching every corner for somewhere to sit. She’s about to give up and reluctantly agree with her friend when she spots them.

“The twins!” She exclaims. “They’ll let us sit with them.”

Before she can even process what Fleur has said, they’re on the move again, Fleur’s dainty hand wrapped around (Y/N)’s wrist. It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but as soon as they have (Y/N) comes to a halt instantly, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. She doesn’t even try to explain herself when Fleur turns to frown at her, she’s already staring across the room where her eyes find George Weasley’s.

His eyes are just as wide, hand paused in mid-air with his pint halfway to his mouth, and for a second, all they can do is stare at one another. Then, his brows drop into a scowl and the look that falls onto his face is a jab straight to the heart for (Y/N). The disgust written all over his face forces the air out of her lungs and her hands to tremble nervously. She remembers back at Hogwarts, hidden away together in the astronomy tower or, after graduating, tucked away in his bed above the shop, how his eyes chocolate brown eyes were the only ones in the world that made her feel safe, the only ones that looked under her surname. Now, they make her feel nauseous with guilt as they bore into her own and she can’t even blame him.

“(Y/N), are you coming?”

Fleur’s question makes (Y/N) jump, turning back to her friend, mouth stuttering wordlessly as she tries to gather the sentences that she needs to tell her friend that she absolutely cannot sit with George Weasley.

“It’s only the two of them.” Fleur continues, hand slipping into (Y/N)’s. “They won’t mind.”

(Y/N) gives up on her protests and allows herself to be pulled towards the booth at the back because what is she supposed to tell her? How is she to explain that she can’t sit with her friend’s brother-in-law because three years ago, she broke his heart? No, she can only follow in silence with her eye firmly stuck to the floor. She already beginning to feel whatever confidence boost the wine had given her wearing off.

“Fleur?” She hears Fred exclaim, a drunken joyfulness in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to find a seat.” Fleur exhales a sigh as they come to a stop. “It’s so busy tonight.”

“Well, we’re not waiting on anyone else.” Fred states. “You and your friend can sit with us. We don’t mind, ay, George?”

There appears to be no response from George, though (Y/N) can’t bring herself to look up yet. Fleur’s hand slips out of (Y/N)’s as she goes to hug her in-laws and a sudden vulnerability hits (Y/N) at the lack of contact.

“I told you, (Y/N).” Fleur nudges her. “They’re fine with it.”

At the soft jab to her side, (Y/N)’s eyes filter upwards despite her own resolve to stare at the ground until it swallows her whole. She watches the recognition flicker across Fred’s face, smile forming a sort of ‘o’ shape. (Y/N) can only give him an apologetic look as she’s tugged into a seat across the booth beside Fleur.

“Hi.” She squeaks.

“Malfoy.” Fred manages, eyes drifting for a moment to his brother. “It’s been a while.”

“I forgot.” Fleur exclaims. “You were all in the same year back at Hogwarts, no?”

“Yes, we were.” (Y/N) manages quietly, sobering up faster by the minute.

“Yeah it’s been a while.” Fred agrees with an awkward grin. “How are you?”

The question is so clearly forced and (Y/N) can’t believe she ever believed that her and George had kept it all a secret from him years ago because now, two years later, it’s clear he knows everything and he’s just as annoyed as George is.

“I’m good.” She nods. “How are you two?”

“We’re great, right George?” Fred chuckles awkwardly.

Once again, George doesn’t reply and only raises his brows before downing the remaining contents of his pint. His glass is forced onto the table with slight thud and he gets to his feet without a word. Everyone at the booth watches as he silently makes his way towards the bar and all (Y/N) can do is purse her lips at the whole thing.

“Anyway…” Fred clears his throat. “I never realised you two were friends. How did that happen?”

(Y/N) can only hope her face portrays the gratitude she feels for him at this moment for that distraction. Rather than questioning George’s abrupt departure, Fleur jumps into explaining how she and (Y/N) met at (Y/N)’s shop and quickly became close friends, and Fred listens attentively, even in his intoxicated state, humming and a nodding at all the correct places.

“I never knew you owned a shop.” Fred blurts, leaning in slightly out of curiosity. “On Diagon Alley?”

“It’s tucked out the way somewhat.” She admits. “It’s just down the street from, um, your shop actually.”

She doesn’t quite know why she’d hesitated, as if bringing it up is incriminating in some way. It’s not of course, their joke shop is famous and not exactly subtle either, no one else would expect her not to know of Weasley Wizard Wheezes and no one seems phased by her mentioning it at all. Yet, a sudden anxiety hits her, as if acknowledging the shop is only a step away from revealing the secrets the apartment above it used to hold.

“Wow, I didn’t know that.” Fred exclaims. “What do you sell?”

“She does the best perfumes I’ve found here in Britain.” Fleur gushes.

“I guess it’s more of a boutique in a way…” (Y/N) confesses nervously. “I sell magically enchanted gift items of sorts.”

“Huh, I never imagined you doing that.” Fred admits. “Always assumed you’d be in the ministry.”

“Oh no, I’d hate to be stuck in an office all day.” (Y/N) shakes her head. “I like meeting people and making things with my magic that might make people smile.”

“That’s a bit like George and I.” Fred grins.

“Well, my roses tend not to bite.” (Y/N) jokes.

“Biting roses…” Fred begins to ponder. “That brilliant!”

“What’s brilliant?”

George has returned, face still devoid of a smile but no longer holding the same animosity it did earlier. It might have been years, but (Y/N) can tell he’s given himself some sort of pep talk at the bar. He slides carefully into his seat again, the contents of the glasses huddled in his arms sloshing dangerously up the sides. (Y/N)’s automatic response is once again to drop her eyes, afraid to meet his in case it takes her too far into the past again.

“(Y/N) just gave us a great idea for the shop.” Fred explains. “Roses that bite.”

“Hmm.” George hums uncommittedly.

He pushes a glass of wine towards Fleur once he’s sat, then, taking (Y/N) completely off guard again, he places a glass of wine in front of her, drawing her eyes up to meet his in surprise. His brows are peaked almost questioningly at her expression.

“T-thank you.”

With a shrug he turns away again, facing his brother as he bursts into a pitch for biting bouquets for Valentine’s day while Fleur giggles at his enthusiasm. (Y/N) fiddles nervously with the stem of her glass, watching the side of George’s face as he listens, eyes fixed on the smile that begins to tug at his lips over his brother’s antics.

It hurts.

It hurts to see him, a reminder of what she could have had if she hadn’t allowed herself to be persuaded to destroy it. She hasn’t got the right to miss him as much as she does, not after how she left him, with a poorly written letter full of excuses that she herself didn’t even believe. No, she deserves this cold shoulder, deserves much worse in fact. She almost wishes he’d just shout at her, to tell her exactly how evil she is.  

“Thanks for the idea, (Y/N).” Fred announces, pulling (Y/N) out of her memories with a start.

“Oh.” She recovers. “I can’t really take credit. It’s all yours.”

“Me and George will have to come visit your shop sometime.” He continues. “It’s just across from us, George.”

George lets out another bored hum that makes his brother’s smile twist into an awkward grimace, brows tightened and frozen for a second as he considers how to recover from this.

“Don’t feel the need to go out your way.” (Y/N) mumbles. “It’s not all that exciting.”

“That’s not true!” Fleur bursts. “You’re being modest. Your products are fantastique.”

An embarrassed sort of smile creeps onto (Y/N)’s lips at this and Fred laughs a little at her shy expression at Fleur’s declaration. Fleur seems to be completely unaware of the fact that she’s made the entire evening that little bit more bearable for her. Fleur’s always doing these little things that make everything more bearable and (Y/N) has never been more grateful for their friendship.

“Thanks, Fleur.” (Y/N) smiles softly.

Fred picks up another conversation, one far less likely to lead to any awkward silences. It holds better than any of the previous conversations have this evening and (Y/N) considers that this is because it is mostly dominated by Fred and Fleur, not that she’s complaining. (Y/N) is quite content for the awkwardness to settle solely between George and herself, where it truthfully belongs, and not to interfere with Fleur’s evening, especially after she’d been so excited to get (Y/N) out of her flat.

She considers that, if nothing else, this evening will relieve her of her life sentence to become recluse as Fleur had suggested.

~

An hour or so later they find themselves walking together back along Diagon Alley, shivering in the cold and hobbling with blistered feet. With the end of the night within her grasp, (Y/N) can hold herself a little lighter, and she finds herself laughing honestly as she watches Fleur and Fred babbling drunkenly together. To her side, George hides a smile stubbornly under her gaze and now that they are far enough from earshot from the others, she takes a risk.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” He asks, brows piqued quizzically.

“For not saying anything.” She expands. “I didn’t deserve that.”

He lets out a breath that almost sounds like a scoff before turning his head away from her, as if trying to hide his expression.

“I didn’t do it for you.” He states after a moment.

She knows this, it’s not a surprise. She’s suspected all evening that his lack of outburst and direct insult has been for the sake of his pride, for Fleur and for his brother, but certainly not for her, and so the knowledge doesn’t insult her. She’s glad in a way.

“I know.” She whispers. “But thank you nonetheless.”

She knows him well enough still not to push it any further and she quickens her pace to catch up with the others. They’re slowing to a stop in front of the twin’s shop and Fred flings his arms around both the Fleur and (Y/N)’s shoulder and pulls them into a hug.

“We need to do this again.” He announces.

(Y/N) can’t fault him in being as drunk as he is, not after he’s held the entire evening together so well. Instead, she laughs and nods as she pulls from his grasp. George is rolling his eyes at his brother, lips twitching into a sort of smile.

“Yes well, we need to invite Bill next time.” Fleur agrees. “He’ll be jealous to have missed it.”

“He does know you’re staying at mine, right?” (Y/N) asks, panic stricken for a second. “Neither of us are in fit state to apparate.”

“Of course.” Fleur assures dismissively. “You’ve sobered back to your worried self again.”

“Yes, but I’m no longer a recluse.” She retorts. “So, the evening hasn’t been all in vain.”

“I’ll take that achievement.” Fleur nods matter-of-factly. “Now, let’s go before we freeze.”

“Okay, okay.” (Y/N) chuckles. “Thank you for letting us share your booth.”

“Any time.” Fred curtsey’s mockingly. “Goodbye, Ladies.”

With a final eyeroll, (Y/N) loops an arm around Fleur’s waist and turns to make her way towards her own apartment.

As cliché as it may be, (Y/N) can’t resist the temptation to sneak a look behind her as they walk away, a last glimpse of the man she lost two years back. Expecting to see his back as he retreats into his apartment, she is startled to find him facing her, eyes capturing hers again. They’re not full of surprise or disgust as they had been at the beginning of the evening though. They’re the soft, brown eyes she remembers, the eyes that once held her hostage in the potions classroom, that shared secrets with only a glance across the great hall and that saw her as herself for the first time in her entire life.

Upon the realisation that his private moment has been witnessed, he turns away and follows his brother into the shop. A wave of tears stings her eyes before she realises what’s happening and they blur his retreating figure as they trickle down her cheeks.

“(Y/N)?” Fleur asks gently, coming to stop. “Are you crying?”

“Oh!” She jumps, turning back and forcing a painful grin. “It’s the sodding blisters. I hate heels.”

Fleur looks unconvinced, holding her friend’s eyes longer to try and decipher what’s caused this sudden bout of tears to spring loose. Frowning and with an almost imperceptible shake of her head, she lifts her hand and gently uses her thumbs to wipe away the tears from beneath (Y/N)’s eyes.

“You’ll ruin your mascara.”

Relief escapes (Y/N) in the form of a choked laugh. She’s amazed again at how perfect a friend Fleur is for not pushing her. She knows Fleur enough to know that she’s not let it go, but she’s willing to let (Y/N) come to her in her own time.

“Thank you.” (Y/N) sniffles. “I’m sorry for trapping you in my apartment all the time.”

“Nonsense.” Fleur dismisses.

“No.” She continues. “No, I’ve been selfish and scared. I’ll make an effort to be more adaptable in the future.”

Curiosity flood’s Fleur’s expression but a smile grows on her lips regardless and she lets out a soft, bell-like laugh. She hooks an arm through (Y/N)’s and guides the pair forward along the street again, huddled tightly to fight to bitter cold.

“You’re so formal at times.” She shakes her head. “Let’s get home and get your shoes off before you become a puddle.”

“Oh thank Merlin!”

[salexectrian-heir]

messages from last night update

chapter below the cut | ao3 link

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1ST 4:57 AM

[Joker] Hi

[Joker] Story time

[✧ Oracle ✧] i see yusuke returned ur phone

[Joker] Aha, yeah. After swearing on my life I would not make any more poor life choices

[Joker] I assume that was your doing

[✧ Oracle ✧] ur welcome

[Joker] Hmm well I might not have sworn hard enough

[✧ Oracle ✧] ???

[Joker] bet you 500 yen you can’t guess where I woke up this morning (without hacking my location)

[✧ Oracle ✧] oh god akira… jail?

[✧ Oracle ✧] again??!

[Joker] No

[Joker] Better

[✧ Oracle ✧] !!?

[Joker] On the catwalk of the auditorium

[✧ Oracle ✧] BRUH

[✧ Oracle ✧] didnt yusuke like walk u home???

[Joker] He did

[Joker] I just didn’t stay home after

[✧ Oracle ✧] (-_-;)・・・

[✧ Oracle ✧] but don’t they lock up the buildings at night….

[Joker] ...

[✧ Oracle ✧] also i’m p sure catwalks are at least fifteen meters in the air??

[Joker] ...

[Joker] I am surprisingly still very dexterous while intoxicated

[✧ Oracle ✧] o m g

[✧ Oracle ✧] what possessed u to sneak out of the dorm, pick a lock, scale scaffolding, and fall asleep on a metal beam is  / literally /  beyond me

[Joker] Me too, It's all very...fuzzy after getting back to the dorms

[Joker] Maybe I was a cat in a past life

[✧ Oracle ✧] cat!kira

[✧ Oracle ✧] congrats u now have a fursona to add to your growing list of ‘sonas

[Joker] Cat!kira go prrr?

[✧ Oracle ✧] HAHAH a self-drag?

[✧ Oracle ✧] Someone truly is hungover and regretting his life choices

[Joker] Jokes aside, all that flexibility training I did in hs apparently paid off

[Joker] I have no new bruises or injuries that I am aware of so I made it up in one piece. Somehow.

[✧ Oracle ✧] wait hold up I thot all that “training” u’d say u were doing was just like horny akira code for “going to mess around with Sumi after school”

[✧ Oracle ✧] don’t tell me u actually were doing gymnastics with her that whole time

[Joker] Okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] ????

[Joker] You literally just told me not to tell you

[✧ Oracle ✧] but was i right?! i NEED to kno if i was right

[Joker] Haha yes and no

[Joker] We did both

[Joker] is typing...

[✧ Oracle ✧] oKAY OKAY OKAY NO DETAILS (SAVE THOSE FOR ANN)

[✧ Oracle ✧] JUST CONFIRMATION THANK U next

[Joker] You have written fanfic more explicit than anything I could ever tell you I’ve done, AND I PROOF READ IT FOR YOU

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•//д//•)ノ [ok true]

[✧ Oracle ✧] but

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•̀//д//•́)ノ

[Joker] Ik Ik, I’m teasing. I won’t corrupt your virginal ears

[✧ Oracle ✧] /anyway/ people r gonna be mad jealous when they find out u dated an olympic gymnast

[Joker] She wasn’t one when we dated though so technically I didn’t

[Joker] She found out she qualified shortly before we went back to being just friends

[Joker] I think we’re both much happier this way

[✧ Oracle ✧] Obviously. you still talk to her??

[Joker] Yeah

[Joker] We caught up before the semester started

[Joker] She said she was nervous, but that’s to be expected when you’re on the global stage. Aside from that she’s fitting in really well with her new teammates. She just wishes Kasumi could have been a part of it

[✧ Oracle ✧] </3

[Joker] Yeah :( </3

[Joker] But she’s good

[Joker] Still calls me senpai though...which idk how to feel about that

[✧ Oracle ✧] lol its ~cute~

[Joker] Hmm leaning towards don’t think so

[✧ Oracle ✧] “oh ~senpai~ you’ll still watch me compete in the olympics on TV right?”

[Joker] ...did you listen in on the call

[✧ Oracle ✧] no

[Joker] “no,” she lied like a liar (I know you still have my phone bugged damn it)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1ST 5:01 AM

[✧ Oracle ✧] *kicks down the door to the thieves den*

[✧ Oracle ✧] INARI U FAILED

[✧ Oracle ✧] GUESS WHERE AKIRA IS

[✧ Oracle ✧] (hint: not where he’s supposed 2 be)

[Fox] Preposterous! He was safely returned to his dorm room. I personally put him to bed.

[Panther] you stayed over in their dorm room Fox… isn’t he in there w/you??

[Fox] is typing...

[Fox] Ah. It appears that I am in his bed and Akira is indeed missing. I was on the floor when we went to sleep. I have no recollection of this transfer.

[Fox] I have awoken Ryuji but all he has done is throw his possessions at me in an attempt to silence my “pestering” so I do not think he will be of any help in this situation.

[Joker] Don’t bother with him Fox. He isn’t responsive until at least 9am after a night out.

[Joker] Also, why aren’t the rest of you sleeping?

[Panther] Joker! you’re alive!!! are you okay???????

[Joker] Define okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles*

[Panther] where are you?!?

[Joker] You aren’t going to guess?

[Panther] jail?

[Fox] Please let it not be true your detective arrested you last night, and you are suffering in incarceration as we type.

[Joker] Why is jail everyone’s first guess? I was only arrested once!

[Joker] Fuck

[Joker] Also, he is not “my” detective

[Fox] is typing…

[✧ Oracle ✧] u sure about that

[Joker] Oh no

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls reread our messages from last night

[Joker] Oh GOD

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles louder*

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can’t wait to hear what inari is about to dish out

[Panther] wait what did akira say to you @ ✧ Oracle ✧?!

[Joker] Futaba please *softly* don’t

[Fox] Last night I had to relieve you of your phone before you texted the detective prince incriminating evidence of your state of inebriation and infatuation. You were adamant that you had to send him a picture of a cat as a token of your feelings, which I objected as the image you selected was not flattering of the cat. I may have just met you a few days ago, so please tell me if I am overstepping my bounds, but I do not think sending hideous pictures of cats is a wise way of winning over this man’s affections.

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls show us the picture he wanted to send

[Fox]

[Panther] Hahahah oh akira

[✧ Oracle ✧]

[Joker] …

[Joker] I’ll be staying at this undisclosed location until further notice

[Panther] no Akira!!! seriously where are you??

[Joker] the_view_is_nice.image

[Panther] :O

[Panther] how did you get up that high???

[✧ Oracle ✧] gymnastics training

[Panther] huh? i didn’t know you were a gymnast Akira!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] im sure he’ll tell u all about it now

[Joker] -____-

[Fox] I cannot believe I failed my first mission as the Chosen One.

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can

[Fox] is typing…

[Panther] @ ✧ Oracle ✧!!!!!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] kek

[Fox] I am an utter disgrace to this friendship. How can I even call this a friendship when I have done nothing but leech from the kindness you all have bestowed upon me. How will I ever be able to show my face among you,  those whom I have failed. I must atone for the shame I have wrought.

[Joker] You didn’t fail @ Fox, and you are not a disgrace. It was my fault. I was the shitty friend in this situation. I’ll make it up to everyone, and to you Fox. I’ll think of something.

[Fox] Food would suffice.

[Joker] Dinner for a week it is.

[Fox] Delightful!

[Panther] wow he got over that fast

[✧ Oracle ✧] welcome to being friends with Inari, the path of forgiveness is through his stomach

***

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1st 5:07 AM

[Joker] Slight problem

[Joker] I actually have no idea how to get down

[✧ Oracle ✧] u really r part f*cking cat

***

Regrettably, some of his life choices last night did him no favors.

Mistakes had been made. Limits and Lessons had been learned. Unfortunately the hard way.

After miraculously finding a way down off the catwalk without injury  into his dorm shower and a fresh set of clothes, Akira managed to show up for his opening shift at Big Bang Blends ten minutes early.

Haru took one look at him when he slinked into the kitchen and immediately said, “Oh dear.”

Akira spun a damp curl around his finger. “That bad, huh?”

“Uhm.” Haru offered him a wobbling, pitiful smile. “You kind of look like how I would imagine a cat that got caught outside in the rain might feel.”

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and wandered over to the apron rack. “Fair comparison.” Selecting his off its hook, he pulled it over his head. “I’d add on that the cat also got stuck in a tree and developed a splitting migraine.”

“I know just the thing that’ll sort you out!” Haru hovered over to Akira’s side. “Whenever I--” she paused, considering her words with a finger to her lip, “overindulge,” she settled on with a giggle, “I’ll make myself a cup of my special tea. It instantly clears my head and calms my stomach.”

Akira’s stomach rolled unpleasantly. “ Special tea ?”

Haru nodded vigorously. “It works like a charm! And I’m not just saying that because I drink it, I have a friend--well, I might be overstepping if I were to call him that, we aren’t that close,” Haru sighed, “but I make it for him too when he occasionally stumbles in here in a similar state.”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?” he asked hesitantly.

Haru beamed brightly at him. “No.”

Akira groaned.

“I promise it’ll work,” Haru said, wandering out of the kitchen and over to her collection of loose leaf teas that were displayed in clear, sealed jars behind the counter. She called back to him, “You’ll perk up in no time!”

He gave her a weak thumbs up.

Picking up the task list from the side of the walk in freezer, he resigned himself to his fate of ingesting whatever the fuck concotion Haru was going to feed him. It couldn’t have been worse than what he drank last night. In all honesty, he would have been feeling way, way, worse if Yusuke hadn’t convinced him to drink so much water when they got back. Akira would like to think the fact he wasn’t curled up on the floor in the fetal position on the cafe floor was also thanks in part to the Amazake he had chosen to drink the night prior too. But the thought of the non-alcoholic sake made his stomach churn harder so he stopped that train of thought immediately, and focused on setting up the dining area.  His head felt like it weighed five pounds heavier than it usually did, which made moving it a bit of a hassle, but he had the opening sheet to finish before the cafe opened and he’d damn himself if he didn’t deliver.

What his stomach did seem safe to think about was luck stats, and that maybe Futaba was onto something when she had made that off hand comment in their chat last night. Akira was incredibly lucky to have landed two bosses ( three if he counted Sojiro but the man was more like a father than he ever was a boss) who cared more about his well being as a person than as a source of cheap labor. Watching Haru make his tea as he flipped chairs down off the tables only amplified his guilt of showing up before her utterly and unmistakably hungover.

Being the sloppy friend did not sit well with Akira.

He swore to himself as he pushed in the last chair he took down that this was the first and last time he ever did anything as stupid and irresponsible as he did last night. Not to mention, his luck wouldn’t last if he kept this up. He’d make it up to everyone somehow, and Haru in particular now. He wouldn’t let his current state impact his work.

And once he stopped feeling like dogshit and could form a coherent argument, he was going to have a long, hard talk with whichever one of his personas decided it would be great fucking idea to drink so much, scale the interior of the theatre, and fall asleep on a steel beam no greater than sixty centimeters in width. Because honestly, what the fuck ?

Even In high school, his “peak stupidity” years, he hadn’t done anything as dumb as this.

Okay, well, that was a lie.

He had done a lot of stupid, often illegal things (see: petty theft, breaking and entering) in high school that to him, had been justified. He was quite gifted at stealing and knew his way around a lock with professional proficiency, and he had gotten away with it unscathed for a very long time.

Except for the whole getting arrested and put on probation thing , which ironically had been for a crime he didn’t actually commit.

“It’s ready!”

“Thanks, Haru.”

Akira swung by the to-go counter reaching for the mystery tea waiting for him and continued on.

After thirty minutes of sipping on whatever miracle cure Haru brewed as he checked off the morning set up tasks, it fucking kicked in. The mind fog and nausea disappeared almost entirely, settling his stomach enough that he was able to keep down some Advil and melon pan with Haru for breakfast. Akira could handle the headache until the medicine took over.

He just couldn’t move too fast or too sudden (Akira was still a little too off balance for that), or turn his neck sharply (thanks to what he had drunkenly decided to use as a pillow the night before). But he powered through it as he set about stocking the various coffee beans in their containers.

The last item on the task sheet they completed together. Prepping the food items for the pastry case with all of the baked goods Haru had made the night before. In addition to mochi, goma dango, and other pastries one would expect to enjoy with tea and coffee, there was always some kind of cake. Meticulously and lovingly decorated, sliced by hand that Haru showcased in her cake display. Today’s selection was a daring one, a pink lemonade cake with delicately applied ombre pink frosting and topped with candied lemon slices that were evenly spaced, each sitting on an artful dollop of whipped white icing.

“Did you want to try a piece, Akira-kun?”

Akira glanced over from where he was sliding a tray of nerikiri into the case. A plate with a modest slice was being extended to him. Eyeing the color up close, his stomach protested. Apparently still a little too hungover to test the limits of his digestive tract with such an extravagant confection.

“It looks amazing, but I think I’ll stick to the melon pan this time Haru.”

“I can always save it for la--”

A sharp series of knocks interrupted their conversation.

From his position squatting on the floor, he checked the time on his phone. There were still five minutes until the cafe officially opened for the day. Haru had warned him there were always a few people who showed up early and failed to read the sign.

“I’ll get it,” Akira sighed, sliding the door of the pastry case shut. “You finish with the cake. I’ll handle our impatient caffeine addict.”

“Oh don’t worry the cake’s all done, I just cut the last slice.” Haru waved Akira off. “I can get him.”

Him?

He hastily straightened up, brushing a few stray sugary crumbs off his apron and immediately looked over at the entrance. Every muscle in his body seized up. Waiting outside the glass doors was one impeccably dressed and restless looking Akechi Goro. Akechi rolled his shoulder, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag while he checked his phone.

The message Akira sent Akechi last night intrusively echoed in his head the moment the former detective looked up and locked eyes with him. Pocketing his phone into his suit jacket (it had to be custom fit, because there was no way it could have cut his figure that well without tailoring), he lifted his chin ever so slightly. Akechi’s expression twisted wickedly into something that short circuited Akira’s brain.

Oh.

Fuck .

A war waged between two primal instincts in Akira’s body at the sight, the overwhelming urge to run in the face of danger clashing with a tidal wave of lust. The rush coursed through his veins, freezing him in place. Much like prey that had been cornered, his heart began to thrash against his ribs.

Akechi’s grin was sharp and salacious, a stark contrast to the innocent and winsome smile that the T.V. ready Prince so often wore. Akira didn’t know him all that well (... yet ), but God , that smile just seemed to suit Akechi so much better.

Akira got to witness this side of Akechi knowing it was reserved for only him for about two whole seconds before Akechi’s face changed, shifting into his composed, manufactured doll-like mask when Haru made it over to let him in.

The transformation gave Akira something pretty close to whiplash.

Really arousing whiplash.

“Good morning Akechi-san,” she greeted him, holding the door open with a warm smile.

“And same to you, Okumura-san,” he returned politely, stepping past her and into the cafe proper. “Pardon my early arrival, I have quite the busy day planned unfortunately and was hoping to get a jump start.” He brushed aside a few strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes with a gloved hand. “I hope your morning has been going well.”

“It’s barely started,” Akira muttered, reaching for a to-go cup to start Akechi’s order to busy himself with so he wouldn’t stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of him. His heart needed a break already.

Instead of writing Akechi’s name, he doodled a pair of handcuffs with the bold letters A and G within the negative space in each cuff (Akira admired his work for a brief moment and thought Yusuke would be proud). He marked the drink as a caramel latte, recalling what Haru had put down on his cup yesterday. Then proceeded to make a pour over instead.

Haru flipped the sign to open, and then said, “Very well, so far! I tried out a new cake recipe, you have to try it.”

Akechi laughed, and Akira’s stomach clenched--but this time in an all too pleasant way. Akira diverted his attention from grinding the beans for his drink to watch the detective ( Fuck! ) The sound was light and lyrical, and after what Akira witnessed… sounded totally out of place coming out of the same mouth that had held that smug, voracious grin a moment ago.

“As much as I would love to, I must decline. I cannot get into the habit of having cake for breakfast.”

“Then you must take a slice with you!” Haru walked past him and over to her cake display, lifting the glass lid and taking a piece out.

“Alright, if you insist,” Akechi conceded, coming to a stop in front of Akira, who moved on to scooping the grounds into the damp filter. The proximity made it near impossible to keep his eyes off the detective, but Akira somehow managed it, forcing himself to pay attention to his pour.

“Actually, would you mind if I borrowed your barista for a moment, Okumura-san?”

Akira snapped his head up from his preparations and met Akechi’s eyes once more ( God damnit! ). Which was a really dumb idea as a shock of pain spiked down his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop from wincing.

A dangerous glint appeared in that maroon gaze that catapulted Akira’s thundering heart into his throat.

“Is he in trouble?” Haru peered over her shoulder from where she was packing a bright pink slice of cake into a to-go container.

“He might be,” Goro murmured just loud enough for Akira to hear, then broke their eye contact to address Haru, “I assure you, nothing of the sort.” He smiled that infuriatingly fake smile at her, complete with an innocent tilt of his head. “I just need to ask him a few questions, in private.”

Haru shot Akira a questioning stare, Do you need me to say no?

He shrugged nonchalantly, or as nonchalantly as someone who was having a very intense internal meltdown over an insanely attractive man could, and said, “It’s fine, Haru.” He continued to pour the scalding water in a circular motion over the coffee grounds in the filter, doing his best to quiet all the alarm bells in his head.

His response must have come off convincingly enough because Haru nodded and said, “Well, I can’t see why that would be a problem.” She hesitantly returned Akechi’s smile. “But I will need him back in a bit when the morning rush hits.”

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Akechi turned and gestured to a table in the corner of the cafe--far away enough from the counter that Haru couldn’t possibly overhear their conversation. Then under his breath he added, “As long as Kurusu-kun doesn’t resist, that is.”

Akira cleared his throat, willing his throbbing heart to drop back into its cage between his ribs. “Go on, I”ll join you when I’m finished.”

Akechi nodded, leaving the yen for his coffee on the counter and sauntered away. Akira topped off the pour over and transferred the liquid into the to-go cup. On his way around the counter he snagged what was left of his miracle tea and took a swig. He hoped it would replenish his mental reserves to handle the upcoming verbal sparring match he was sure he was about to walk into.

Akechi, in his immaculate glory, was leaning back in his chair languidly with one dark clad leg crossed. He watched Akira closely as he wandered over with their drinks. Akira suddenly felt incredibly out classed and underdressed in his usual cardigan-v neck combo he had going on compared to Akechi’s tan suit jacket and pressed button down shirt.

He slid into the seat opposite Akechi and pushed his coffee across the table. Akechi nodded in thanks and brought it to his lips.

Akira pretended he didn’t watch the way Akechi’s throat moved as he swallowed his first sip.

The detective hummed approvingly. “Black.”

“The way you actually like it,” Akira said with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is it now,” Akechi chuckled darkly against the lid still pressed to his lips. “Sadly, my coffee preferences are the extent of where your knowledge of me ends.”

In the tenuous silence that descended after that statement, they sipped at their respective drinks. Gazes not once wavering off one another.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” Akechi finally said, cutting the tension.

“When I said ‘come get me ’ I didn’t mean ‘corner me at work ’,” Akira hissed over his cup of miracle tea.

He could think of many other, far more superior places he would have loved to be cornered by Akechi in. But Akira kept that part to himself.

The detective leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. “You do realize if this were a real investigation and I caught you as unaware as you were this morning, you being at work with your Boss present wouldn’t have deterred me.”

Akira stole a glance at Haru, who was busy writing the specials of the day on their blackboard, then drained the rest of his tea.

Akechi followed his gaze and continued on in a saccharine tone that contradicted the alluring smile his mouth had split into again, “But since it’s not, I highly doubt you want an audience for when I bend you over the counter and take what I want from you.”

Akira promptly choked.

Any lingering doubt Akira may have had about Akechi’s preferences evaporated. Akechi knew exactly what he was saying. He had to have, right? There was no heterosexual explanation for that response.

Point to Akechi, he thought, accepting the fact his face was probably as red as the flowering plant hovering three inches above his head.

“How considerate,” Akira managed to rasp once he got his tea to go down his throat correctly. Swallowing burned like a bitch. Now he had to deal with a sore throat on top of the rebellion being staged by his heart and stomach, and the leftover vertigo from his hangover.

“Will you hand it over now?” the detective asked with a hint of sugar coated venom.

“Hate to disappoint, but you’ll be walking away empty handed this morning. I left it in my room.”

Which wasn’t a lie. In his haste to recover from last night’s  escapade and get to work on time, he hadn’t thought to grab the handkerchief. The last thing he expected was this.

“I think you’re sending me mixed signals.”.

“Am I?”

“You tell me you want one thing, then act like you didn’t expect it to come to fruition when I follow through on it so I’m curious,” Akechi titled his head and his hair shifted, shining ethereally in the early morning sun streaming through the window. “What is it you really want, Kurusu?”

For you to fuck my brains out, Akira thought. But admitting that so bluntly to Akechi’s face felt like defeat. So, he kept the stupid illusion of their game going and leaned in.

“I want to see if the Detective Prince is really as good at his job as the rumors say he is.” Akira mirrored the detective’s head tilt and offered him a crooked grin. “I won’t be that easy.”

“If you want me to physically remove it from your person, then I must insist from this point forward you carry it with you. If every time I corner you, you… aren’t ready,” Akechi’s smile grew wider, “then doesn’t that defeat the purpose? And unlike you it seems, my time and attention is limited.”

“Rude.” Akira mimicked the detective’s posture, dropping his chin into his palm. “My time is limited too. I just can’t have you stalking me at work. And--” what Akira really meant to say next was , I cannot possibly work and retain my sanity with you watching me like that all the time. But instead said, “--Think of Okumura-san’s business. You’ll scare away her customers.”

Akechi shot him an unimpressed look. “Somehow I highly doubt that.”

Wow. Cocky bastard.  

"Well,” Akira said, changing tactics by imbuing a little bit of truth, “I imagine you can relate to not wanting to be distracted at work, with your fans and all.”

“They can be...rather inconvenient at times, yes.” Akechi studied him intently. “Alright then. Let’s make a deal.”

“Making a deal with the enemy? Akechi,” Akira feigned a gasp, “don’t tell me you’re a dirty cop.”

The detective snorted into his coffee. “I’m going to choose not to entertain that comment and suggest we establish some ground rules.”

“I thought rules didn’t exist in investigations,” Akira said mischievously.

“Like I previously stated, good thing this isn’t one, then?”

They shared a private smile.

“I propose this,” Akechi said, straightening up, hands clasped on the table. “From this point on, you will carry it on your person. I will catch you off guard within the next two weeks and take back what is rightfully mine. Our working hours are exempt from this. Obviously, the common spaces in the dormitory will be too by default. Should you ever need me as your RA, that will come first and foremost, I take my duties seriously. As should you. I think you’ll find these terms agreeable and respectful of each other’s time. Unless there are any other locations you want to deem off limits.”

Akira made a show of considering Akechi’s words, tapping a finger against his cheek. This was literally the most drawn out, intellectually charged foreplay Akira had ever engaged in but he couldn’t say it didn’t excite him. In fact, there was something exhilarating about it.  

“No. Everywhere else is fair game.”

“Really?” Akechi inquired, grin breaching that rapacious territory again. “Be careful what you agree to, Kurusu.”

Akira shrugged and leaned back.

“So,” Akechi prompted, “you won’t say no, will you?”

Of course he was going to accept. So Akira simply said, “I think I’ll hold on to your handkerchief.” And then held out his hand. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Hah, excellent,” Akechi smiled and shook it firmly. The leather was soft and warm as it dragged against Akira’s palm. “Otherwise, I will be forced to order a room inspection and somehow I doubt that is how you want this to play out.”

“If you are inspecting the room while I’m in it, then I might be.”

Right after the words left his mouth, the logical part of his brain that wasn’t stuck on being hungover and horny on main finally spoke up and reminded him of the very important, expulsion worthy, major cockblock that was currently being housed in his room: Morgana.

But then Akechi’s mouth upturned devilishly, and suddenly Akira decided he’d cross that furry bridge when he got to it.

“Well, then. I must be off. Thank you for the coffee,” Akechi said, dropping Akira’s hand as he stood up. “I have an interview taping in…” he checked his phone and sighed, “just over an hour. Hopefully the trains are on schedule.”

Akira tilted his head. “Still doing those?”

“Yes, keeping up appearances on behalf of the precinct,” Akechi explained, “I may be officially on hiatus as a full time student, but I still pick up cases from time to time. The media wants to know how I balance it all.”

“Ah. Explains the get up.”

Akechi bristled at the comment, his nose wrinkling ( cute! ) and brows drawing down as he straightened his already perfectly straight tie. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing,” Akira teased with a lilt in voice, “It’s nice, maybe a little stuffy.” He deliberately looked Akechi up and down. “But I bet you’d look better out of it, judging by what I saw you wear the last time you showed up here.” He couldn’t fight the coy smile his mouth twisted into even if he tried. “If you’re looking to show off, those shorts from yesterday would do a better job.”

The call out was meant to fluster Akechi, but the detective’s face remained remarkably even toned. Flawless even. Too flawless.

Could he be... he's totally wearing makeup.

Akira lifted a brow pointedly.

That did the trick, earning Akira a heated glare before Akechi turned his head sharply away. The movement roughly shifted the hair around his face, revealing a sliver of skin previously hidden. To Akira’s rapidly dawning delight, the detective’s neck was rapidly turning pink.

“Shut. Up. Kurusu.”

Oh, so Akechi blushes all the way down when he’s flustered. Fascinating. Akira filed the thought away for… later.

For totally innocent purposes.

Totally.

Akira stood up and slipped in front of Akechi, demanding to be looked at. Giddy with his new discovery. “Oh? What’s this? He can dish it out but can’t take it?”

Akechi’s eyes flashed as he brought himself up to his full height, and stepped into Akira’s space. Scowling down the few centimeters he had on him, he forced Akira to take a step back. “You,” he said lowly, continuing to move forward, making Akira walk backwards until his back hit the counter, “are a brat .”

“Just figuring that out now, detective?” Akira smirked. “I thought that was obvious.”

From this close Akira could see just how gorgeous the detective’s eyes truly were. Flecks of light red dotted the center most part of his eyes, giving off the illusion of glittering in the light. He was close enough that if Akira leaned in a fraction more their noses would touch.

A very polite, soft cough came from somewhere on Akira's right.

The detective’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly put space between them again and turned to face Haru, who was standing in between the kitchen and the counter area looking anywhere but at them.

Akira owed her now a second apology.

“I wish both of you a good day,” Akechi gracefully recovered and turned on his heel. He flexed his shoulders as he opened the door but stopped with one foot out the door.

“Oh, and Kurusu-kun?” Akechi turned halfway to face him, “Be sure to check your email this afternoon.”

And then he was gone.

***

It’s Always Snack Time in Tokyo

SEPT 1ST  8:00 AM

[Takuto Maruki] Hello! I was going to wait until I saw you in person, but I can’t resist telling you the good news! I submitted the paperwork to bring on an official research assistant. The chair of the department should grant me an answer by the end of the week. The position is yours once I get the documented approval.

[Takuto Maruki] That is, if you are still interested in conducting research with me like you did over the summer

[Akira Kurusu] I am

[Takuto Maruki] Even more wonderful!

[Akira Kurusu] Won’t it be unethical if you don’t let other people apply for the position though?

[Akira Kurusu] You can’t play favoritism

[Takuto Maruki] I, fortunately, get to make the rules in this situation and I wrote that I could appoint the position to any student that met certain criteria and showed promise in the field

[Akira Kurusu] You literally wrote the position description so that only I fit that criteria, didn’t you

[Takuto Maruki] You would be correct! :D

[Takuto Maruki] So if you’re free and want to get a jump start on assisting, I was hoping to recruit you this upcoming Friday to proctor an exam.

[Akira Kurusu] An exam? The second week of class? Savage Sensei

[Takuto Maruki] It is a 300 level that meets M/W/F so the curriculum moves fast. This cohort in particular is grasping the concepts at a much faster rate than the other two I teach for this course.

[Akira Kurusu] When is it? I open the cafe Friday mornings

[Takuto Maruki] 2pm

[Akira Kurusu] Okay, I can make that work. I’ll be there

[Takuto Maruki] Wonderful! :)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 11:12 AM

[Skull] yo i am not back readin any of that

[Skull] wat did i miss?

✧ Oracle ✧  Changed Skull to Edgelord Can’t Read

[Edgelord Can’t Read] I CAN EFFIN’ READ!!!

[Edgelord Can’t Read] i said i wasn’t gonna, not that i cant big difference

[Edgelord Can’t Read] ur the one who cant read

[✧ Oracle ✧] wow gr8 comeback edgelord im so offended. what r we 7yrs old

[Edgelord Can’t Read] shuddup

***

Gotta Go Fast

SEPT 1st 11:28 AM

[Skull] BRO A CATWALK?! WTF?!?

[Skull] how the eff did u get down??

[Joker] My amazing cat-like reflexes

[Skull] bro

[Skull] how u feelin btw

[Joker] You know that feeling you get when you’re about to go over the hill on a rollercoaster?

[Joker] Like that

[Skull] oof

[Skull] ill make u my ma’s soup when ur shifts over, its the best for this kinda shit

[Joker] Why is everyone being so understanding with me today

[Skull] were ur friends man we gotchu

[Joker] alsdjflskf

[Skull] uh did the rollercoaster drop or smth

[Joker] Haha no

[Joker] Thanks Ryuji

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 2:01 PM

[Edgelord Can’t Read] UH HOLY SHIT EVERYONE CHECK UR EMAILS

[Panther] what?? why??

[✧ Oracle ✧] im surprised u even read ur email

[Joker] Oh.

[Joker] Fuck.

***

To: Shujin Hall_5th Floor

From: Akechi Goro; Niijima Makoto

CC: Kawakami Sadayo

Subject: Violation of Dormitory Rules

Dear Fifth Floor Residents of Shujin Hall,

This is a friendly reminder that there is a strict No Pets Policy in this Residence Hall. A contraband item, a can of pet food, was located on the floor inside the trash room on Friday night. As such, we will be conducting room inspections beginning tomorrow, starting with rooms located in the Girls’ Wing. Let this be an example to all that the consequences for violating this rule will be termination of their dormitory agreement and the loss of their on campus housing status. Any additional charges will be determined by the Residence Hall Director, Kawakami Sadayo.

If you have any further information on this subject, please feel free to contact us.

We hope you have a wonderful rest of your weekend.

Sincerely,

Your Resident Assistants

Akechi Goro

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice / Psychology Major | Philosophy Minor AG710341@mail.u-tokyo.ac.jp

Niijima Makoto

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice Major | Psychology & Law Minor NM798448@mail.u-tokyo.ac.jp

[annabethy]

could you do 4 for the prompts??

#4 accidental kisses

Annabeth was in love with her best friend.

Like, painfully, disgustingly in love with her best friend. And she was almost certain that he was far from in love with her. Annabeth had made it more than clear time after time, and he always brushed it off. He either didn’t know or didn’t care. Both options were less than appealing.

It made it so much worse because it was like everyone knew except him, and the teasing messages from Piper that were lighting up her phone made it so she’d never forget.

“What are you doing?”

Annabeth jumped as a hand pressed against her lower back, glaring at Percy as she tried to ignore the burning from the contact. He just smiled, looking over her shoulder even when she shoved him lazily.

“Stop it,” she said as he attempted to glance at her phone, still blowing up with messages from Piper.

“I’ve been standing here for like five minutes, but you were too preoccupied with your phone to notice.” Percy stopped the playful shoves, eyes twinkling. “You talking about a boy?”

Annabeth didn’t appreciate the subtle mocking tone of his voice. “I’m talking about my grades,” she lied. Of course, Percy knew she was lying because he knew her, but he didn’t push any further.

“So.” Percy leaned against the locker Annabeth was by, crossing his arms. “Are you going to prom?”

“I have no idea,” she muttered distractedly, turning away from him to dig around inside her locker. She wasn’t actually looking for anything, but she had to do something to avoid him. There was no way she could look him in the eyes and talk about a date to prom without saying something stupid.

“What! It’s senior prom! You have to go!”

“I’m not going to stand there by myself while everyone else has a date.”

Percy clicked his tongue. “’l’ll be there with you.”

“But you’re going to have a date, and—”

Percy snorted.

“What?”

“Who told you that I have a date?”

“You’re bound to get someone,” she said, scoffing. “My best friend is going to be there with one of the hottest girls in the school, and I’m going to sit there like a loser.”

“You think I’m attractive enough to get the hottest girl in the school?” Percy laughed, elbowing her gently to tell her that he was just messing with her.

Annabeth flushed. “You know you are.”

“Then it shouldn’t be too hard to get you to go with me,” Percy said, reaching towards her head to tug at her curl. “If you say I can get the hottest girl in school and all.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. I’m not going to prom.”

Percy groaned, dropping back against the locker loudly. “You seriously aren’t going to go to prom? I need someone I can actually stand to be there.”

“You and I both know that you can’t stand me.”

“Well, that’s only sometimes.” When Percy grabbed Annabeth’s chin to tilt her head towards him, he frowned. “If you really want to go with someone, though, you can go with me.”

“I don’t want to be your pity date. Besides, I’m sure there are better people to go with.”

Percy looked like he was going to argue, but he shut his mouth, settling for tracing over her face for any sign of emotion. Annabeth couldn’t read exactly what he was thinking, but she didn’t feel comfortable with the way he was gazing at her as though he was reading her soul.

After a while of silence, Annabeth digging around her locker, Percy cleared his throat.

“You seriously mean to tell me that you haven’t planned anything for prom? No pinterest boards of dresses or something?”

Annabeth bit her lower lip. She actually did have a ton of dresses pinned, but she couldn’t tell him that. Not when they were picked out with Percy in mind, imagining what would look best with him by her side.

Being head over heels in love. It’s mortifying.

“I mean… I have a few,” she just barely managed.

Percy’s jaw dropped as he stood straighter at the new revelation. “I— you actually have some picked out?”

“Is that such a bad thing?” she asked, her voice small and weak.

“No! It’s a good thing, but—” Percy laughed, shaking her shoulder. “Show me what you decided on.”

“I haven’t decided on anything yet,” she said, but she was already pulling her phone back into view, being sure to turn away from him as she unlocked it so he couldn’t see the messages from Piper. It took a good minute to find the inspiration pictures, but once she did, she grinned, already filled with a rush of excitement.

Even if it wasn’t going to happen, it was still nice to imagine what it could be like to go to prom with her best friend.

“Let me see,” Percy complained, trying to press his head onto her shoulder.

Annabeth shoved him away a second, wanting to make sure there was no incriminating evidence of her feelings for Percy.

“It’s the one that—” Annabeth was cut off as she turned to face him, lifting her head to adjust to the height difference. Just as she did so, Percy had started to try and look over her shoulder again, leaning over, and—

Percy’s lips brushed against Annabeth’s, sending sparks of electricity through her. It was only a graze, and it took her way too long to comprehend what had just happened, but when she did, her face was flaming.

Percy looked at her like a deer in headlights, and he could feel the heat start to surround him. He felt suffocated, and Annabeth was no different.

Still, as Annabeth stared at Percy, she couldn’t help but focus on his lips, and the way they felt so soft for the milliseconds they were against her, and she so desperately wanted to feel them against hers again.

The moment seemed to freeze, and she could focus on nothing but him. She didn’t know what to say to clear the moment, and neither did he, but then there was a magnetic pull between them getting stronger and stronger.

Percy’s hands went to her face and he pulled her closer, both of their eyes fluttering shut, and then his lips were back against hers, and she couldn’t breathe.

His mouth moved against hers slowly, pouring every ounce of affection into it, and Annabeth felt tingly all over her body. He breathed against her lips, his heart pounding in his chest, and as he pressed harder, Annabeth felt faint.

Percy pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against hers. His hand was still against her cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin, and he looked at her in a way she never saw before, but now, she highly suspects it had always been there, bubbling between them.

“Hey,” Percy whispered, nudging her nose.

“Hey,” she answered, grinning. Her lips were swollen and red and numb.

“I kind of like you.”

“You do?” Annabeth’s eyes shut slowly as he pressed a warm kiss to her nose.

“I have for a while,” he admitted. Annabeth laughed in disbelief, dropping her head against his chest as his arms moved to wrap her in a hug.

“Well, that’s good, because I kinda like you too,” she said. Had it been five minutes earlier, she would’ve never said that, but now? It felt like a weight had lifted from her chest and been replaced with an everlasting warmth.

“Does that mean you’ll go to prom with me?”

Annabeth’s head leaned back to look him in the eyes, and god, she loved the sparkling green hue, and his smell and touch and him.

“I guess,” she joked, over the moon.

Percy and Annabeth shared a humorous glance, and she could barely contain her jitters. She kind of loved Percy, and now she knew he did too. And as Percy paid attention to nothing but her, she wanted so badly to kiss him again.

So she did.

[lilywhittaker]

Righting The Wrongs | Self-Para

who: lily whittaker, elise whittaker, ian whittaker when: november 7th, 2020 where: whittaker estate, sunstone beach

I have to do this. Aside from telling him that she loved him, those were the last words she’d whispered to Bash that morning before leaving him in bed as she began getting ready to meet with her parents. Her family-affiliated bank accounts had not been frozen, which she took as a good sign - and all her mother’s doing. Elise Whittaker would only ever cut her daughter off if it was a last resort, no matter how much prodding she faced from her husband. “I have to do this,” Lily repeated to herself as she drove through the gates of her family estate, a place that had once been home feeling like a prison as the guards closed the gates behind her and told her where to park. Thanking the butler as he directed her to her father’s study, Lily didn’t even bother knocking - she simply opened the doors and strode in, seeing both of her parents sitting behind the desk. “Mother, Father. I trust that we have a lot to discuss,” she greeted curtly, heels clicking against the wooden flooring before she reached the desk, not sitting down as she didn’t want to feel complacent and small. Standing firm and tall, she felt as though she could hold her own.

You insolent little bitch. You cost this family our reputation as well as your own, and for what? Some petty criminal who gave you an ounce of attention, whispered empty compliments in your ear? Ian’s words stung, but Lily held her ground. “The ‘petty criminal’ has a name. You should get used to it, actually. You’ll probably be hearing it a lot now,” the woman challenged, crossing her arms across her chest. “I cost this family their reputation and set my own on fire. For what, you ask? Because you and I both know that Bash didn’t do anything, and telling the truth was the right thing. I didn’t do it out of hope that we’d reconcile, I did it because it was what was morally right. Is that a feeling you’re familiar with, Dad?” Poking the bear was dangerous, especially since she had witnessed firsthand what Ian Whittaker did to people who upset him. But she didn’t care; Bash may not have been with her, but she was angry for him. “At the end of the day, I can live with the decisions I made. I can sleep at night knowing that I put myself in an uncomfortable position, but I did what I thought was right. Can you both say the same?” Lily asked, her voice eerily calm as her eyes darted between her mother and father, almost daring them to disagree with her.

So what, Landry is your boyfriend now? He’ll leave you in two months once he gets bored of you trying and failing to make him into husband material. Trying to make him into something he’s not. And you’re biting the hand that fed you for thirty years, and the one that’d feed you when he inevitably breaks your heart. “You almost ruined his life,” Lily sneered, gripping the back of the chair in front of her as she glared at her father. “And for what? Because you didn’t think he was good enough for me? I was born into this world, and yes I worked my ass off in school and for event planning. But someone who didn’t have the privileges I have, that person would need to work twice as hard to achieve what I did. I’m grateful for the opportunities that I’ve been given, but let’s not pretend that I earned them all. Bash wasn’t born into wealth, with options to achieve his goals by whatever means possible. It’s not fair to say that he’s beneath me just because of this.” Neither of her parents had said it, but Lily knew them well enough to know that they saw him as nothing more than a liability at their daughter’s side, a man without a degree from a reputable university or a profession that they would love to brag about him being employed in. “But yes, he is my boyfriend now. He didn’t graduate from an Ivy League, doesn’t work in law or finance or the medical profession, doesn’t have much money to his name, has a criminal record. But you know what? I am aware of all of this, and I’m still making the choice to be with him. I choose him, and I’ll stand by it.”

“First, you release a public statement that clears him of any wrongdoing. Apologize to him in it, and personally when he’s ready - it’s safe to say he doesn’t want to see either of you right now, and I don’t blame him one bit.” Bash’s reputation wouldn’t be one hundred percent safe, but it was the best option for now. She knew that he could file a civil lawsuit, but she didn’t want to make those decisions for him. “And I know you set him up,” she accused, pointing at Ian before her attention shifted to Elise. “And you knew about it and didn’t do anything to stop it - which is just as bad, in my opinion. Or you tried to, but it was too late. Either way, Bash would’ve paid the price for an issue you had with me, and that’s not okay. The knowledge I have, I could ruin us all. We’d be where the Hawthornes were up until earlier this year,” she almost threatened, unsure if she even would’ve gone that far to get her revenge. “My accounts remain untouched. I’ll keep up the charade of ‘simply needing my space and moving into a home of my own’ for the public, but we both know the real reason I bought that house in Goldfinch earlier this month. If you keep up your end of the deal, I never mention this to anyone,” Lily promised, waiting to see if her family agreed. Had she gotten cut off entirely, she would’ve been able to live a comfortable middle class life on her event planning salary but she didn’t want to do that just yet. As much as she was working on unlearning her own internal biases when it came to socioeconomic factors, Lily was also scared to step outside of the comfort zone that she’d known for so long.

Your mother already said we’re not cutting you off, if it was up to me you’d have been on welfare already. You’re done acting like a petulant teenager whose cell phone got confiscated yet? The fact that her father was trivializing her anger pushed Lily even further; she wasn’t yelling just yet, but her voice had raised a few notches and her mother asking her to keep her voice down had the exact opposite effect on her. “Keep my voice down? I think we’re far past the point of decency here, a man almost went to prison because of your bias,” she shot back, letting her biting words hang in the air for a few moments. After years of maintaining a level of decorum and docility around her parents, Lily threw caution into the wind and was not at all concerned. “In fact, I decided to help you out with your road to redemption. The Innocence Project has received ten grand in your name to help fight injustices. They’ll do a lot with that, I’m sure, making sure that innocent people in prison get the help they need to clear their names.”

Once the three Whittakers had finished their heated discussion, Lily handed them her keys to the grounds. “I don’t need these anymore, you can keep them. Bash and I will be in touch about anything else,” she finally concluded, getting up from her seat and pulling her coat on. You’re making a huge mistake, Lilian. You’ll be back here before you know it, begging us to be there for you. You’re destroying the Whittaker legacy, sympathizing with a criminal and going against your own family. What about your own children? Silence hung in the air as she considered those words, giving her father a saccharine smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. 

“Oh, Daddy, I’m not destroying anything, I’m reinventing our legacy. Reinventing what the Whittaker name will be known for: kindness and compassion. And that’s the world I’m bringing my future children into. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be on my way. We’ll talk soon.” Leaving both of her parents speechless as she exited through the French doors of her father’s study, Lily felt a surge of pride amidst some guilt. She had just taken a stance against them, one that she believed was right. But there was no doubt that the measures she’d resorted to could be considered blackmail. Something that she associated with her parents, and not with herself - not only demanding something in exchange for not releasing incriminating information, but feeling triumphant as she did it. Was this what good people did?

Was Lily Whittaker now the villain in the story?

[carmenxjulia]

Maybe I Love You

Title: Maybe I Love You

Description: Ivy's got a crush, and the time she has to confess may be running out.

[Read on AO3]

Team Carmen was spending one of their rare lazy days at their new warehouse base. Zack and Shadowsan were training in the gym. Or, more than likely, Shadowsan was attempting to train, while Zack tried and repeatedly failed to catch him off-guard. In any case, it left the two ladies of Team Carmen alone, in what could be considered the living room of their makeshift home.

Carmen was settled in a chair across from the couch, a coffee table filling the space between herself and Ivy. There had been silence between them for several minutes, which Carmen hadn't yet seemed to notice, or at least, decided not to acknowledge. Finally, it was Ivy who broke the silence.

"Hey Carm, do you, uh, like me?"

"Of course I like you, Ivy."

"Yeah, but-" she could feel her face flushing already, and gripped the couch cushion beneath her to steady herself. "You remember the night we first met, yeah? How I threw that anchor to help you out?"

"How could I forget? You really got me out of a bind."

"Yeah, well, the truth is, I might've been trying to impress you."

"You most certainly did."

"I wanted to make a good first impression because I kind of liked you," she grinned hopefully at Carmen, who finally looked away from her laptop. "And the more I get to know ya and the more capers we go on- I-" she rubbed at the back of her neck with one hand, "the more I kinda-"

"Do you feel okay, Ivy? You look a little flushed and… sweaty."

Ivy visibly gulped, trying to swallow down the lump rising in her throat. She was hoping Carmen could take a hint, but clearly, the thief didn't have a clue about what she was implying. That didn't bode well for her potentially having similar feelings. So, time to bail. "Yeah, y'know what, I'm just gonna go lie down or uh, go splash some cold water on my face," she made a beeline for the bathroom, stumbling over her own feet in the process.

Ever since the incident in Sweden, Ivy hadn't been able to get the image of Carmen out of her head.

She and Zack had driven out of Stockholm, further and further into the wilderness, where no human had any sensible business being. The more they drove, the tighter the knot Ivy's stomach grew. She kept checking with Player, making sure they were headed the right way, even though there was only one winding road to follow out here. Asking if he'd heard from Carmen yet. Asking again, when the last time was he'd heard from her. Mentally calculating how long she'd been missing. Wondering if they'd be too late. Terrified that they might lose Carmen, not to a potential enemy or threat, but to the elements. What a way to go. She shuddered.

And then seeing her, half-dead in the snow, helplessly watching her be surrounded by A.C.M.E. agents, and knowing she and Zack didn't stand a chance of getting her back.

The aftermath, when they let her go, and Ivy held her in the back of the van, as Carmen fought for her life.

Since that night, the thought had nagged at Ivy that she might lose out on her chance to tell Carmen how she felt. Actually, she'd been thinking about it before then, when they bought the warehouse and Daddy Sterling's offer was still fresh. But with how the mission had gone down, it didn't feel like the right time.

The events in Sweden got her thinking about it again. And now, she blew it.

After a few minutes, Carmen set aside her computer and followed after, concerned for her friend's well-being. She heard the faucet running, followed by what sounded like a splash, then a clatter and "oh man" (probably Ivy knocking something over), then the water turning off, concluded with a determined sniffle. She sounded fine enough, and Carmen was about to go back to her work, but paused when she heard her voice.

"It's no big deal. She doesn't have to like you back. You've been rejected before. No problem! You just have to see her and talk to her every day and live in the same building as her but so what! So you put yourself out there and tried to confess that you're in love with her, and it didn't turn out. No biggie. Yeah. I mean, c'mon, look at you! Why would you think you even had a chance? Carmen's a total babe and you're… you. Haha, yeah. Good one Ivy. Thinking you could score with a knockout like Carmen Sandiego. Smart, funny, pretty- and what do you got? I make tools, I get my hands dirty. That's not her type. She probably- ah. I can't say nothin' bad about Carm. Okay, Ivy. Chin up. Things just go back to the way they were. Stopping bad guys, righting wrongs, doing good in the world! Yeah! Nothing's different at all. Nothing. Yeah."

Carmen, too absorbed in trying to process all that Ivy had said, didn't think about the fact that Ivy had stopped speaking. She didn't think about how little space there was between the sink and the door, and how quickly her friend could step across the room and turn the handle. She came back to reality as the door clicked, eyes going wide when she realized her error.

"Carm?!" Ivy exclaimed.

"Ivy-" her expression conveyed that she'd heard every word, "why didn't you tell me?"

Ivy stood stock still, trying to remember everything she'd said in her pep talk. Thinking of all the incriminating things she'd said. Glad she had decided against putting Carmen down to make herself feel better (which wouldn't have made her feel better at all, actually). But, inarguably, Carmen was completely, totally, 100% aware of her feelings now, and there was no going back.

"I tried to tell you, Carm. I tried showing off for you. I tried doing extra nice things for you. I even tried sitting real close when there was plenty of space on the couch. But, ah, you didn't really seem to notice so I thought maybe you weren't interested. And that's fine, Carm. I'm a grown up. I don't need to be let down easy or nothin'. Okay?" she took a deep breath, not sounding fully convinced of her own words.

"I'm an idiot," Carmen slumped against the wall behind her, slapping a hand to her forehead.

"Nah, Carm, you're the smartest one of us-"

"And yet I couldn't figure out that you- you love me?" she looked surprised.

"Well, yeah, Carm. Pretty much since the first time I laid eyes on ya. I mean, wanted to get to know you first, but you've always had an irresistible charm. Charm, Carm. Hey, that rhymes. They should call you charmin' Carmen, because you're always charming the ladies. And probably the fellas, too," it felt good to have more relaxed chatter, in the midst of their awkwardness.

"Oh," Carmen still seemed to not have recovered from the recent revelation.

"Hey, are we cool, Carm? I'm sorry you had to hear all that. I didn't think anyone was listening."

"No, I'm sorry for eavesdropping. But I'm glad I know now. Turns out, I can predict V.I.L.E.'s every move, but I can't get the hint when a cute girl is making a move."

"You don't really think I'm cute, do ya Carm?" Ivy pushed her hair back out of her eyes, leaning against the bathroom doorway.

Carmen stepped forward, leaning on the wall next to Ivy, partially boxing her in. "I've always thought so, Ivy. I just didn't quite realize what that meant. We're always so busy, trying to stop V.I.L.E. Sometimes I feel like I don't have the chance to breathe or focus on anything else except the next mission. Maybe I'm afraid if I give in to my feelings, I'll get distracted," she sighed. "I think I've liked you for a long time, Ivy. Maybe since the day we met, but I'm not sure. I had other priorities then. I still don't know if I'm ready to juggle something like a relationship. But with Shadowsan here, I feel more relaxed. I feel like I have time for myself, and maybe- maybe for you, too."

"You serious, Carm? I don't want you to feel like you have to. I know stopping V.I.L.E. is important-"

"Ivy-" Carmen placed a finger upon her lips to shush her. She suddenly looked uncertain, staring down and reconsidering the questionably intimate touch. Those green eyes looked back, deep emerald pools, waiting for her to speak. "-can I try something?" she moved her hand to cup the side of Ivy's face, fingers threading through her short hair, as she felt Ivy lean into the touch.

"Sure, Carm," her voice was light, nearly a whisper when she answered.

Carmen slowly slid her hand down Ivy's cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath, and bringing it to rest under her chin. She bent down, every so slightly, eyes locked as she drew Ivy forward, bringing them close. "Is this okay?" she asked, when she was but a hair's breadth away from Ivy's lips.

In response, Ivy pushed forward, closing the gap between them, bringing their mouths together.

Carmen tasted like strawberry, her signature lip gloss that Ivy could always catch the scent of if they were close enough. She tasted like perfection and clarity, and Ivy pressed on, not fully believing this moment was happening, and wanting it to last forever.

Ivy tasted like salt and earth, sweat and dust, the marks of someone who worked hard and never gave up. A woman like herself, strong, determined, fearless. When Ivy drove forward, Carmen answered with matched fervor.

It was impossible to tell who pulled away first.

"Yeah," Ivy responded, breathing slightly heavily, "it's okay." She smiled, in a way Carmen had never seen her smile. Not just with those impeccable lips, but with her eyes, seeming to practically glow under the lights of the warehouse. Had she always looked so pretty?

"I think," Carmen took a deep breath, "we can make this work." She grasped Ivy's hand in her own, leading her over to the couch. She still had work to do, after all.

As Carmen picked up her laptop, Ivy snuggled into her side, head on her shoulder. She sighed contentedly, turning her face upward to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. A smile formed from Carmen's serious expression, and she swiveled her head to respond by planting her lips against Ivy's forehead. It felt nice to do something that brought her joy like she'd never felt before. It felt nice to do something that made her happy, and even more so, something that made someone so close to her happy as well.

Yeah.

They could make this work.

Support this and other stories! https://ko-fi.com/pizzahorse

[jovialyouthmusic]

Uneasy Lies the Head

Followup to Charlotte’s Choice, a Royal Romance AU Fanfic

9 Crisis in Cordonia

Will Drake escape his captors? How is Charlotte coping with his disappearance?

Charlotte wept and stormed but no trace of Drake was to be found. There was footage from the car park of him being bundled into the boot of a car, but it was found abandoned close to the border of France where there was no webcam footage to see where he might have gone. Kiara had apparently followed him to the car, only to have been abducted herself. She was discovered at the border of Cordonia with a message from Anton’s men that Drake was being held captive. They demanded Anton’s release, and there was nothing Charlotte could do. Her heart went out to Savannah, and she promised to stand by her if news of her unfortunate past came out to the press.

Savannah was inconsolable to have been reunited with her brother, only for him to vanish, and Bastien was devastated, blaming himself.

‘Your Majesty, I didn’t warn him never to go anywhere alone. I didn’t consider there to be any threat to him – or to any of our party. It was unforgivable of me.’ He turned to Kiara, her face tear stained.

‘Non, monsieur Lykel, it was my fault. If only I had not sent him to the car to fetch my bag…’ she broke into fresh tears ‘Your Majesty, how can you forgive me?’ Charlotte patted her arm

‘Don’t cry Kiara, it’s not your fault’ she said softly ‘It seems your friend Pascalle was sympathetic to Anton and had taken advantage when you contacted him.’ Kiara sobbed again.

‘But your Majesty – if I had never contacted him…’ she grew incoherent. Hana spoke to her, her arm around her shoulders

‘Shhh Kiara, there are so many ‘what if’s. You suffered too – you must have been terrified, you poor thing’ Kiara nodded

‘Oiu, I was so scared. And poor Monsieur Walker…’ Charlotte couldn’t take any more, and left the room, running to her suite to throw herself down on the bed and sob her heart out. She heard someone enter the room, and Hana came to sit next to her. She managed to calm down and stop, sitting up, and Hana held her tenderly.

‘Charlotte’ she said quietly ‘All is not lost’ Charlotte reached for a tissue to blow her nose and wipe her eyes.

‘Wh - what do you mean Hana?’ she sniffled

‘It’s all an act – Kiara’s not telling the truth’ she said

‘What? How do you know?’ she asked in amazement.

‘Call it instinct – I know Kiara, and I’ve been trained to read body language and in various interrogation techniques. She knows more than she’s letting on, I’m sure of it’

‘Oh Hana – do you think we can find Drake? I can’t bear it’ Hana looked thoughtful

‘We will have to tread carefully – but I’ll play the innocent and see what I can get out of her. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll interrogate her properly’

Olivia waited at the airport for Brad’s flight. He had gone back to England to see to his new found property – a grand house in the English countryside that had deteriorated through misuse, but revenue from other property that he now owned provided enough money to renovate it. He had set things in motion, and as he had promised to return for the wedding, he made his way back to Cordonia. It wasn’t until he landed that he discovered that Drake had gone missing, and his return to the palace was a sombre affair. Hana had been true to her word and was spending some time with Kiara, apparently chattering about inconsequential things to help her to recover from her ordeal, but in reality she was gaining her confidence and preparing to find out just how she was involved in Drake’s disappearance.

Charlotte was withdrawn and depressed, not sure of what to do or where to turn. She withdrew to her suite and Bastien and her friends grouped together to discuss what could be done. Hana had talked to the guard about her suspicions, and they scrutinised the security footage taken in the car park at Monte Carlo, showing it to the others – to Olivia, Brad, Savannah and Maxwell.

‘If you look here, you can see Kiara talking to one of the men who supposedly abducted her. Drake was treated roughly, overpowered as soon as he left the lift and knocked out once he was in the boot of the car. Lady Kiara seems much more relaxed, though she does a good job of acting surprised, and she enters the car more or less willingly rather than being bundled in. I have arranged for the authorities in Monaco to tell us as much as they can about the car that was used. It seems to have been hired by Kiara’s contact Pascalle, who she claims was mastermind to the kidnap and sympathetic to Anton.’ Brad nodded and Olivia scowled. Savannah was tearful, unhappy to discover that her supposed friend had betrayed both her and her brother. She begged to be allowed to go to her room and avoid her for as long as she could.

‘That snake Kiara – you should hand her over to me, she’ll soon talk once I get her into the dungeons at Lythikos Castle’ Brad put his hand on her arm.

‘Careful Livvy, we need to try and get her to trust Hana first, see if she gives something away before we do anything more drastic’ Olivia made a huffing noise, and Bastien cleared his throat and continued.

‘I have asked my contacts to track down the other two men in the video footage, though they wore hooded tops so that won’t be easy. They are also looking into any other vehicles Pascalle had access to and tracking them down, checking all the border crossings to see if he left in another.’

‘Can they track the men back to where they came from?’ asked Brad, and the guard nodded.

‘Well thought out, de Montfort. You’d make a good detective’ Brad opened his mouth to speak, and Olivia groaned.

‘Please Brad, spare us the story of how you read Sherlock Holmes as a boy and set up a detective club at school’ Brad shrugged.

‘Inspector Rebus, actually’ he sad shortly, and Olivia sighed heavily.

‘Despite appearances, we’re in a strong position.’ Bastien went on ‘Kiara doesn’t suspect we know she’s part of all this. There are strong indications that she’s in league with the kidnappers and Anton. We need to keep her under surveillance and see if she lets something slip. I’ll ask Charlotte to invite her to stay at the Palace – she won’t be able to refuse and she’ll be easy to watch. I want the three of you to treat her as if she’s the victim she pretends to be.’ He turned to Olivia ‘If you find that too difficult, I suggest you go back to Lythikos and leave us to investigate.’ Olivia huffed again

‘I suppose I can treat her with civility’ she said reluctantly ‘If I remind myself that she’ll pay for her deceit when we find Drake’

That night, Charlotte came down for dinner, and picked at her food. Under instruction from Bastien, she invited Kiara to stay, and as predicted, she agreed. When the meal was over, the Queen went back to her suite. When Kiara had gone to her room for the night, Hana reported to Bastien in his room.

‘She’s definitely hiding something ‘ she said ���She knows where Drake is, I’m sure. Just give me some time and I’ll find out. Oh, and here’s her phone details, we can tap into any calls she makes’ The Royal Guard had the latest equipment for monitoring calls and text messages – all that was needed was the relevant phone number and ISP.

‘You’re an accomplished agent, Hana’ Bastien said ‘It’s a pleasure to work with you’ She smiled

‘That’s a huge compliment coming from you’ she said ‘And I want to do my very best for Charlotte and Drake’

‘I’ll let you know if she makes any calls or texts’ he said ‘I’ll monitor her phone myself’ Hana left to go to bed, and Bastien set up his equipment and settled into his easy chair, closing his eyes to take a nap, hopefully to sleep deeply. However, only a few minutes had passed before an alert came in, and he popped in his earpiece to listen in. It was a brief call.

‘Hello Pascalle’ came Kiara’s voice

‘This had better be urgent, we might be monitored’

‘Impossible, they don’t suspect a thing’

‘Go ahead then’

‘I’m staying at the palace, the Queen invited me so I couldn’t turn her down. How is our guest?’

‘Noisy – at least until I informed him he wouldn’t be heard’

‘Good, let him waste his energy. Take care of him, we need him alive – for now.’ The line went dead just before Bastien got a solid lock on the location of the person she was calling – but he already had enough material to incriminate Kiara if they wanted to take the option of confronting her. Further, he didn’t know the exact location of the recipient, but he knew that he was within the borders of Cordonia. Another call and he would know exactly where. He smiled with satisfaction, and got ready for bed.

Charlotte woke again to a cold empty space beside her, and she willed herself not to cry. She had to trust that Bastien and Hana would find Drake. However, she couldn’t face seeing anyone that morning and didn’t feel like eating so she went to the window to stare out toward the stables.

‘Race you to the middle!’ Charlotte had only known Drake for a few months, but after Olivia had gone home to Lythikos, they became firm friends. They were allowed to play in the formal gardens as long as there was someone nearby to keep watch over them. However, like all children they were mischievous and often gave their guardians the slip. That day Drake had wheedled a good supply of chocolate from the cook and they had run off to explore the maze.

Although Charlotte had of course lived at the Palace all her life, she had always been cautious of the maze. Her mother had designed it and although it was still growing, it was tall enough for the two children not to be able to see over the top. She was scared of getting lost, but didn’t like to tell Drake and be called a sissy. It was easy to see where they were going, as a tall oak tree stood at the centre, but getting out again was not as easy.

Deeper and deeper they ran into the maze, the hedge appearing dark and impenetrable to the young princess. She lost sight of Drake and could only hear him laughing, his feet scuffing over the grass as he ran. She couldn’t work out which way to go, and stopped to work it all out. She couldn’t hear Drake any more, and she felt panic rising in her chest. She kept moving ahead, her heart pounding in her ears.

‘Drake? Drake, where are you?’ she called out, stopping still to listen ‘I can’t hear you’ All was silent and the tall dark hedges closed in around her. Tears started to her eyes. ‘This – this isn’t funny’ she said in a small voice. She started toward the tree again when suddenly, Drake jumped out of the hedge.

‘Boo! Gotcha Charlotte’ he cried, but as he saw her frightened face his expression changed ‘Are you alright Princess?’ he asked, and she fought back the tears, suddenly angry with him. If she had known the way out, she would have stormed off - but she was frightened and didn’t want to be alone. She stepped toward him and hit him in the chest with her palms, shoving him.

‘You’re mean!’ she shouted ‘You scared me’ but Drake saw through her anger, saw the fear in her eyes and took the blow, staggering back into the hedge. His tone softened as it did when playing with his baby sister.

‘I’m sorry - we’re close to the middle – see?’ he pointed to the tree ‘Race you there - come on, we can have the  chocolate when we get there’  Charlotte pulled herself and set off. Drake ran behind her, pretending to stumble so she got there first.

‘I win’ she said ‘See, girls are just as good as boys’ He grinned, glad to have cheered her up. There was a bench at the bottom of the tree, and they sat side by side, legs swinging, and shared out the chocolate. Charlotte felt much better with Drake there, and the chocolate did its magic.

‘I’ve never got to the middle before’ she said, and he looked at her wide eyed.

‘Really? I’ve been here at least five times’

‘I get lost every time’ she confessed, and he grinned.

‘There’s a secret to it’ he said ‘you just keep your left hand on the hedge and follow it round, and to get out, it’s your other hand. Charlotte looked at her hands doubtfully, not entirely sure which was left and which was right, but she said nothing. ‘Let’s climb the tree, and we can see it all’ Drake said. He knew she was partial to climbing trees despite being told it wasn’t seemly for a Princess, and eagerly the two of them climbed up into the canopy. She didn’t care that her clothes got dirty, or that her top snagged and tore.

The view from the top was breathtaking, and Charlotte could clearly see the way out. Suddenly it didn’t seem as scary, and she smiled, seeing the staff out looking for them and calling their names.

‘Let’s stay up here and finish the chocolate’ she said, and Drake grinned back at her. She wasn’t the little goody goody he first thought she was – she liked running and climbing trees and she liked horses and chocolate, and giving the grown ups the slip - and he thought she might possibly like him too...

Charlotte hugged herself at the memory and gathered herself together. The demand from Anton’s men to release him in exchange for Drake had shaken her to the core. As a woman, she wanted to comply and would have done it without question – but as Queen she could not let the country fall into Anton’s hands. The wedding plans had been put on hold and there was little official paperwork to look over, so Charlotte decided to go out for a ride. Bastien insisted that she not go alone, so she chose to go with Olivia.

At the stables, Charlotte stopped at Sultan’s stall, rubbing his nose and speaking gently

‘You don’t understand do you boy? Why he’s not here’ The tears pricked at her eyes, and the stallion whickered and nudged her hand ‘I miss him so – if he doesn’t come back I don’t know what I’ll do’ Olivia appeared at her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

‘Want me to ride Sultan? He needs the exercise.’ She asked. Normally Charlotte would say no to anyone else riding Sultan save one of the more experienced stable hands, but she knew Olivia could handle the stallion, and she found the creature oddly comforting despite Drake’s absence. Perhaps he had a little of Drake in him, she told herself.

‘Of course Livvy, you’re a good rider. He can be a little headstrong but I’m sure you of all people can handle him.’ Olivia patted the horse’s flank.

‘Oh he’s a pussycat, I’ve definitely ridden worse’ she replied, and the horse turned to nuzzle her hand. Charlotte looked on in amazement.

‘He’s definitely taken to you Livvy, he’s not normally so gentle with strangers’

‘Oh, he understands that I’m boss’ she said, grinning widely.

The two friends saddled up and set off. Once they were clear of the stables they cantered on, Charlotte leading, and slowly built up speed until they were at full gallop. Normally Charlotte found it freeing and cleansing, but there was something missing today, and her heart ached. Faster and faster she rode, feeling the fresh air whipping past her, the muscles of the horse bunching underneath her, her feet pressed into the stirrups so she rode free of the saddle. She heard Olivia shouting at her, and she turned to see what was the matter, slowing a little.

Suddenly Phoenix faltered, and her rhythm broke. Charlotte clung on to the reins but she was thrown off the horse, letting go when she realised what was happening. Luckily  she fell cleanly without being tangled in the stirrups. She thudded to the ground and rolled clear, but just as she thought she was safe, she rolled into the trunk of a tree and the shocked Olivia saw her strike her head and pass out.

Bastien and Hana were interrupted by a panicked call from Olivia, and Lewis, as the most experienced of the King’s Guard in emergency first aid, went out on a quad bike. The Queen was unconscious but appeared not to have broken any bones. The air ambulance came quickly and airlifted her to hospital. It was impossible to hide the news from the press, but Bastien kept tight control on the news that was released, making a statement that the Queen had taken a minor fall and was being checked for injuries. In reality, Charlotte remained unconscious and unresponsive, though from the reaction of her pupils, it seemed there was no brain damage.

All was confusion at the Palace. As Charlotte was sole monarch and Drake was not only missing, but would not even be considered to take control as he was not officially Consort had he been there, the question was how power was to be wielded. The Council was called to an emergency meeting and after long discussion, Olivia was declared as temporary head of the Council and allowed to make minor decisions in lieu of Charlotte, but most matters had to be voted on before being authorised. Members of the Council were assigned rooms at the Palace in order to be on hand for any emergencies. Bastien was of course given free rein in the matter of tracking down Drake, and Hana went to the hospital to talk to the doctor in charge of her case.

‘There’s no reason why her Majesty is still not conscious’ he said ‘There is no obvious injury to her brain, just a little bruising where she hit her head. It’s as if she doesn’t want to wake up, which is understandable under the circumstances. It would be useful to have someone close on hand round the clock, talking to her, playing music she might like in the hope that she effectively wakes up. Can you organise that Ms Lee?’

‘Of course, I’ll get onto that as soon as I can’ She made her way back and spoke to the others, setting up a rota. Olivia took first shift as she still felt guilty that she hadn’t stopped Charlotte from riding so hard. Luckily Phoenix wasn’t injured and she had led the mare back to the stables before the air ambulance arrived so they wouldn’t be spooked by the noise.

Two days went past with little progress in the matter and Charlotte remaining in the same condition. Bastien at last got news from Monaco that a car belonging to Pascalle had crossed the border into Cordonia not long after the other car had been abandoned, but after that the trail went cold. Kiara had not made or received a call from him or anyone else but he remained on alert for that. The two men who had attacked Drake had turned up on a list of known sympathisers of Anton’s but nothing was known of their whereabouts. Hana had little time to spend with Kiara but did what she could.

That night, finally Bastien got an alert that Kiara was making an outgoing call.

‘Pascalle? What’s our position? How is our guest?’

‘He’s quiet, and Anton’s men are getting restless. They’re insisting that they take custody of him’

‘Really? Have they said when?’

‘They’ll be coming for him tomorrow and pushing for the exchange to take place whilst the Queen is out of commission. What’s the real deal? Why isn’t she communicating?’

‘Mon ami, she is in a coma.’

‘Interesting. So we should try and get things moving as soon as we can’

‘Mais oui, I will continue to play the victim, sway them toward the exchange’ Bastien smiled grimly – now he knew exactly where the call was coming from, but he continued to listen whilst tapping Lewis’s number up on his smartphone.

‘Very well. Call tomorrow and I’ll let you know how the exchange went’ The line went dead, and Bastien swung into action.

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