#maybe it’s because the office is formal where I could technically get into trouble - so maybe it reminds me of school?

[starkidlabs]

Can anyone tell me why I’m super confident and can actually talk to people when I’m in a situation where barley anyone knows each other, but as soon as I enter my place of work or a situation where I’m with my family members I lose my ability to speak.

[writersrkive]

hi!! i just read your spencer fic about telling him not to shut up. i specifically loved the fact that the reader’s first language isn’t english, i feel like the majority of the fandom doesn’t have english as their first language.

could you write something where the reader’s first language isn’t english and they’re having trouble with their paperwork because people tend to use a lot of difficult words, and spencer notices it and helps them out? maybe reader often stays late to finish working because they need to read sentences multiple times to fully understand them?

if you don’t feel like writing this feel free to skip or write anything else <3

(it’s getting late for me here but i look forward to reading more of your work when i come back from work tomorrow :)

have a good day!!

A little help never hurts | Spencer Reid

summary: Paperwork days are hell, especially for you, since English isn't your first language. You don't say anything to any of your coworkers because you're afraid they will see you as incapable of doing your work, but one genius boy might have been looking at you a lot and definitely notices something is wrong. He is determined to help you. An extra help never hurts, right?

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: English isn't reader's first language, mention of reader being from another country (I think that's all, but let me know!)

a/n: Omg, my second request! I loved the idea, thanks! I hope you like it rebel-ezra (does this notify you when I answer your inbox or do I have to tag people when it's not anon? lol, sorry). I'm excited to see how much you enjoy this one, and I'm sorry if it's not as good as you expected. English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Happy New Year, reader! I hope you can get distracted a little with this fic if, if you need to. You did it! Next year we have more people, places and things to know, hugs!

important: Are you guys interested in being in a Criminal Mind's tag list for my fics? If that's the case, let me know in the comments, please. I might be doing one if there's enough people.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

The feeling of pressure on your head and the emptiness of your stomach has stressed you since a few hours ago. You didn't have anything to eat since the doughnut and cup of coffee that García offered you in the morning when she arrived. But you weren't close to going home.

Paperwork was always a pain in the ass, but especially for the poor newest member of the BAU. Why is that? Well, your mother language wasn't English, and of course you had a good level —otherwise you wouldn't have the opportunity to study and work in the U.S.A.—, but the documents were too formal and technical given the seriousness of the issues being discussed.

“Shit.” You whispered, typing a new confusing and complicated word on your computer for the third time in an hour.

“Hey, do you want to go to my place after work? Tonight seems like a free night, if duty doesn't call.” Emily had approached you with a warm smile, knowing that paperwork was never easy.

“Thanks, Em. But I think tonight I'm going home to rest. It's been a long week.” But you gave that answer because at that point, it was routine to stay way later than your workmates.

Spencer was coming back from the bathroom, ready to take his stuff and go home. It was really late, so he thought he was the only one besides Hotch in the office. However, he saw you at your desk: your head resting on a dictionary, the computer next to you and several post-it notes stuck in the drawers of your desk.

He called your name twice, but of course the sleep you were immersed in did not allow you to hear it. Footsteps were heard in the darkness. There were just a few desk lamps on, that's why he was able to see your peaceful expression. He touched your shoulder slightly and when you opened your eyes, all you saw was a shy smile.

“Reid, what's wrong?” You asked, feeling your head throbbing.

“Are you okay? You fell asleep.” He whispered.

“Oh… Yeah… I'm okay.”

“Are you sure? You seem pretty tired. It's late so maybe you should go home”

“Don't worry. I have work to get done anyway.” You sighed, remembering how you still had to review a quarter of documents.

“What? But you have been working on this for hours.”

His comment made you blush. Of course you haven't told anyone how hard it was to review every document twice or even thrice to be sure that you didn't misunderstand or mistranslate anything. Somehow you felt that if anyone knew they would criticize or mock you. Not that you thought about your coworkers being mean, but through your journey of learning another language and moving from your country, you met all kinds of people. Also, you didn't want to be seen as weak or incapable of doing your job.

“Today was just a lot, that's all.”

“You usually work quickly, though I think I know what's going on. You keep a dictionary on your desk and usually carry a pocket version in your backpack, the days when you leave work late are paperwork days and you usually close the translator tab on your computer as soon as someone approaches your desk.” He explained looking around your stuff as if he was analyzing everything. “Is it about the language?”

“Yes, yes it is, okay? There, I said it!” Your frustrated tone made Spencer realise how tired you were about the situation. You didn't even try to deny it, you just hid your face around your arms, leaning on your desk —as if you were recreating the position he found you asleep previously—.

“Hey, but what's wrong with that?” He asked softly.

“What do you mean ‘what's wrong with that'? I'm supposed to understand everything that is on the documents, but I become slower because I have to verify and translate information that I don't understand because it is a more technical language.” The words were audible enough to him even though your face was still hidden.

“Do you realize English isn't your first language, right?” He tried to get you to look at him, but it didn't work. “Everyone in this work has difficulties when it comes to other languages. You don't have to feel bad because it's happening to you.”

“Does it happen to you?” Your shy eyes met his.

“Not really.” He answered with a hint of a cocky smile.

“See?”

“Well, I didn't say anything about me, you were the one who asked. Besides, I'm trying to be more sociable.” His comment made you chuckle slightly, but that chuckle became a laugh when you repeated what he said in your mind. “You are really funny, do you know that?”

“A-Am I?” The way you were looking at him, with a tired, yet cute, expression and a little smile, made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I can also be of great help at work. Let me help you with the files.”

“It's not necessary.”

“It is. You need to rest, so let me get started while you go to the machine for something to eat. A little help never hurts.” He whispered, already taking the documents.

“Fine.”

A few minutes later you returned with an open package of cookies. You stopped for a moment, admiring the furrowed eyebrows of the genius boy who was reading the files with a lot of attention. Then you realized how fortunate you were for having coworkers like him. Or maybe was he himself the one who was so amazing that you would never get tired of working with him.

“Agent. Can I talk with you for a second?” Hotch's voice welcomed you the next morning.

Spencer's view followed your figure to the boss’ office and that didn't go unnoticed by his best friend.

“Pretty boy had fun yesterday?” Derek teased.

“What?”

“You know… Penelope said that last night Hotch wasn't the only one who left work late. You and our new colleague had a date at work?” His strong arm embraced the other's shoulders.

“N-No! I thought we were the only ones… No! Nothing happened!” Spencer struggled to say.

“Reid, can we talk?” Your voice made him turn around. He just hoped you weren't angry.

“What is it? Is everything alright?” He asked when both of you walked into an empty hallway.

“Actually, yes. Apparently Hotch received a request from the team's genius profiler to work with me on my paperwork days. So, you are having trouble concentrating on the files because of some headaches and need someone to work with?” As you spoke your tone of voice slowly reflected, with a mocking tone, that you knew perfectly well why Spencer had spoken to Hotch.

“Am… Yeah. Headaches are the worst.” He whispered looking to the floor.

“Thanks, Spence.” You said with sincere gratitude. Spencer looked at you again and felt a weight lift off his shoulders when he realized that you weren't mad at him.

“Sure. Whatever you need, I'm here for you… as coworkers, of course!” His voice got a little higher when he clarified immediately.

You were about to walk past him to return with the others, but then he spoke again. “Do you think maybe we can go and have coffee on a free day? I mean, I can help you with the words that are difficult for you. And, actually, I was thinking that I might need help with your language too. We can help each other, you know?” He gulped.

“Sure. A little help never hurts.” You smiled and walked away hiding a smile while Spencer was left alone, standing in the middle of the hallway, unable to believe that he had just asked you out. “Hotch is gonna kill me if he finds out…”

[vethyourhalflingmother]

teenage walmart games??? I’ve been inside walmart maybe 3 times in my life I need an explanation

formal disclaimer: i am not suggesting you do any of these things in a walmart or similar store* even if i admit to having done some of them myself; the employees don't get paid enough to deal with them

-i mentioned in my tags a fictional game of capture the flag. while i think it would be difficult to full-on incorporate nerf guns into this for more than a few minutes irl, i know people play other versions of it in stores sometimes (i have participated on one ocassion & ngl its kind of fun)

-ive personally played hide n seek in walmart more than once (which is a little different than regular hide n seek in my experience, usually the hiding involves moving around a lot)

-walmart has such a wide variety of shit (for those of you who are less familiar, there's a grocery section & a retail section (including electronics, toys, outdoor equipment, home goods, office supplies, furniture). so we also used to play games where we would have a criteria (ex. The Squishiest Thing U Can Find) & everyone would run around in the alotted time to find The Item which best fit it

-there are lots of potential variations off of this. that "three items to freak out the cashier" game everyone always talks about on here & also a quick google search brought up an all-out walmart scavenger hunt & a walmart bingo

-many walmarts used to have a giant "cage" (it was flexible rope) full of those huge plastic bouncy balls. my walmart does not have one anymore. i imagine it's because i (& others) used to yeet the balls out of the cage every time i was there so i could play with them. i havent personally done much more than bounce them while shopping but i have to imagine that people more creative than me have made several games revolving around these balls and their prison

[Image Description: A Walmart bouncy ball cage filled with dozens of giant colorful balls some of which also have pokadot or zigzag patterning. It is taller than the aisles. The balls are mostly contained by roping, but the frame of the cage is made of metal. END ID.]

-idk if this counts as a "game" but when i was a child you could get ear piercings at walmart & it was for sure A Risk

-ive known people who make a game of shoplifting, seeing who can steal what & who can take the most risks without getting into trouble (in my experience folks either know EXACTLY how companies like walmart deal with shoplifters or they don't know jackshit, there is no in-between, my advice is that knowledge is power)

-there are legitimate ways to have fun in some walmarts, ive been to several that have a few (3-5) money-sucking arcade games.

-they also sometimes have fast food places in them, so any kind of havoc you can think of perpetuating at mcdonalds or subway, you can technically do it in a walmart (just a reminder not to terrorize the employees at these places in real life. please. i used to work at a mall subway like i will fight you)

-this is just off the top of my head at 3 am, im sure a group of bored 16 y/os could come up with something really fun

-obviously you can do these things in similar stores but i feel the need to explain the energy of walmarts to those who havent been in them so much. they really do feel like the worst liminal space you can possibly imagine. all the typical social rules and decorum are gone. the rumors about people wearing what they want and doing what they want in walmart are generally very true (yes you see guns on people's backs there in open carry states). the lights are too bright for me in all big stores like that but they reflect off the floors in a way i find particularly blinding. it's also usually crowded unless you're there during work/school hours. recently my walmart went to all self-check, no bags & that made the environment more hostile which i didnt know was possible. if this were a more serious post id explain in detail about why i think walmart gets a bad rep for some classist reasons and why it DESERVES a bad rep for some capitalist ones but since this is funnyman hours im just going to leave it there

-im going to leave off with a question to my walmart-familiar followers: what is the most chaotic thing you've ever witnessed in a walmart?

*except the shoplifting. i always encourage shoplifting

[imagineddworld]

Unexpected

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: After serving detention with your favorite teacher, true feelings get revealed. 

Word counter: 3,5 K (3500)

Author’s note: I made Remus a new, young teacher, and the student just turned 18. There is still a 5 years difference, but I tried to make it a bit more comfortable for people who don’t really like big age gabs.

I also tried to make it gender neutral, so if you guys have any tips; that would be great. 

Didn’t proof read this, as lack of time with my exams very near. But I wanted to post something. As expected it turned out longer than I had meant to

Hope you enjoy xx 

The time had come where the seventh years were learning how to make Amortentia. A potion well known to most curious students as the love potion. But it was a very tough one to make. You got all the ingredients right, but the brewing method messed you up every time. Same for today, it had started to fog an odd green smoke. It was at least better than the time where it had blown up in Snape’s face. You had never received such a big punishment as then. You were given 5 essays to write and served detention for a whole month. 

“Detention Miss/Mister (Y/L)”, you heard the cold, monotone voice from behind you, “You can serve it with Professor Lupin after class. He needs help with grading essays”. You already had predicted this outcome to happen, but tried to argue anyway. “But-”, you silenced yourself as soon as you saw his cold glare. You sighed, slumping back in your chair. “Okay”, you mouthed silently, while making a mocking face. “That will be two detentions”, you heard him say angrily. You threw your arms in the air as a sign of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else. You started to clean your cauldron, hoping in the last minutes of class he wouldn’t give you more detentions or worse, gave you another essay to write. He really hated the living hell out of you. As one of the new teachers, together with Professor Lupin, you hand’t expected to be hate so much. You rarely did anything. Perhaps even breathing was too much for him. But there was not much you could do about it. You realized that the hard way. Most of the time you argued with him, but one particular time he had enough of your snarky comments. He had given you detention for nearly two months, making you clean all the little, dirty places of Hogwarts. All magic was forbidden, you needed to clean it all by hand. And as bonus to top it all off, he overloaded you with essays to write. Every week you needed to give two writer essays of 10 pages at least. After that event, you didn’t bother arguing much. 

The rest of the day went by as normal, mostly spend with your nose in your books. As your final class ended, you quickly dropped off the unnecessary books at your dorm that couldn’t fit in your bag. You only kept the ones you needed for your essay. The one you were planning to write after your detention. Your dorm seemed further away from Professor Lupin’s office, resulting in you needing to sprint through the halls. Luckily the halls were less crowded. Only a few students were chatting in the hallway, laughing with their friends and keeping each other up to date. When you reached the door, you were out of breath. Partly from the running and partly from your nerves. Your heart was pounding too, and you hands were shaking the slightest bit. You took in some deep breaths and tried to calm yourself. 

Detention with Remus Lupin made you more nervous than you had expected. He wasn’t just your favorite teacher, because of his amazing teaching skills. But also due to his kind character and beautiful looks. You had unexpectedly started to grow feelings for him. He had an amazing sweet and kind soul. His blue eyes sparkled every time he taught your class something new. Every time you got mesmerized by them, losing yourself into the beauty of the blue irises. Fascinated by the swirls of colors that came out when the light captured them from a certain perspective. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. Every time he called your name during class, your face became beat red. His scars were a beautiful contrast against his slightly reddened cheeks. 

You had thought the fact that he was your teacher, would disgust you. But technically he wouldn’t be your teacher anymore in 2 months. And also the fact that there were only a few years between the two of you, made it more acceptable. He was a fairly new and young teacher. A lot of girls probably had crushed on him, so you weren’t to blame. It’s not like you could control your feelings. As long as you kept it hidden, you were fine. 

Your hands were shaking more, as you realized what was about to happen. Your heart started to pick up its beat up again, hammering against your chest. You softly knocked on the wooden door. “Come in”, his muffled voice could be heard form inside. With a little creak of the door, you made your way into his office. “Hello Professor. I’m here to serve my detention”, your voice was silent, and a bit shaky. He looked up from his desk full of papers, eyes lighting up the slightest bit. He gave you a sweet smile: “Ah yes, (Y/N). I was surprised when Snape me you were the one who had gotten detention. You never do anything wrong”. A light blush crept up your cheeks. His eyes were entrancing you, making your knees weak. “Well, I messed up the method of my potion, so you know how Snape is. Then I mocked him for his ridiculous behavior and got myself a second detention. So you will be stuck with me again tomorrow evening”, you smiled more confidently now. You didn’t regret your behavior. Snape really was a living hell. It was just your overthinking mind and overwhelming nerves that were bothering you now. As they were most of the time. 

“Oh, Don’t worry about that, dear. I don’t mind your company”, he smile seemed even brighter. The soft candle light really gave him a certain glow that had you mesmerized. It was a soft yellow light, that showed off all his features even better. This soft look in combination with his sweet words really made you swoon. These detentions might were going to kill you. This man couldn’t get any lovelier, at least you thought so. Every time you saw him, some new details had you drawn to him. Another little piece of him you could adore. Like whenever the light hits his eyes right, they looked almost yellow. As if a sun was glowing behind them. That might explain why they gave such a warm and loving appearance. Or the soft shadows that were cast on his face, pointing out his fine bone structure even more. His jawline standing out the most. The combination of his messy hair and wintery sweater, made him look very cosy. He gave off a feeling of home and trust. As if you truly could be yourself around him, even if there were certain boundaries. Maybe that comfort drew you the most to him.

“Well..., you can start with that pile over there”, his voice woken you from your daydream. He pointed to a chair in front of his desk with a smaller pile of papers on it neatly stacked. Your cheeks were flushing a bright red, as you realized he must have seen you stare at him for who knows how long. You placed your bag against the wall, and hung your robe on the hanger that stood in the corner. You carefully picked up the stack of papers and placed them on the desk, so you could sit. Lupin made some room for your pile, as his was literally scattered all over his wooden desk. He mumbled soft apologies in between soft, heartwarming chuckles. After he gave you a pen, some ink and instructions of how to rate these essays, you went to work. 

You had to be honest, it was quite hard to concentrate when you were sat in front of this beautiful man. You often glanced up, admiring him in this soft light and closer perspective. You didn’t dare to look up, but had a feeling his eyes were on you as well. But that could’ve been your feelings sparking up some deeply hidden hope for him ever being interested in you. Every time he leaned over to help you on a certain problem, you could feel your breath halt in your throat. You had trouble keeping your heart rate in control.

“I’m all done, Professor”, you said when you rated the last essay of your pile. He looked up with that loving smile of his, making your heart flutter for the umpteenth time. “Brilliant. Thank you for your assistance today”, he gently took the essays from your hand, and placed them on his big pile of already marked homework. “Maybe I could help you with that potion you were having trouble with?” You smiled widely at him: “Oh, that would be lovely, sir. I really could use some help”. He nodded happily, while his eyes seemed to spark that particular sparkle whenever he got passionated with teaching and helping people. “Do you have your textbook with you?” You mumbled a quiet yes, as you went to grab it from your bag. You handed it over to him, standing by his side on a formal distance away from him. “What potion were you working on?”, he asked while going through the pages of your book. “Amortentia”. As soon as the answer left you mouth, he started to cough lightly seen that he had just took a sip of his tea. “Are you okay, sir?”, you asked him worriedly, placing your hand on his arm. You were a bit unsure if you should touch him or not. But you had acted upon it like an instinct. Luckily he didn’t really reacted to the soft manner, meaning he probably didn’t mind. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright, dear. Just chocked a bit on my tea, is all”. He cleared his throat and straightened out his back, adjusting his position as a way to recover from his small coughing fit. “So, Amortentia...”, he started off, sounding it bit absentmindedly. “Yeah, I have all the ingredients right. It’s the brewing method that messes me up every time. It always seems to go so well, until it suddenly doesn’t. And I don’t know why”, your explanation sounded like a rambling of quick words put together, making you unsure if he actually understood you. He nodded his head, as he read over the page. “Hmm, well. I’m here to help you. We just need supplies”.

The two of you snuck around the halls, if you even can consider it that. It was still a few hours before curfew and you were with a teacher, so not much trouble could happen. But you still sort of broke into Snape’s classroom, which he wouldn’t appreciate at all. “If we get caught, I am going to blame you. He already hates the living hell out of me”. The tall man next to you chuckled at your comment. “Trust me, love. He hates me plenty, you just don’t see it”. You raised your eyebrow questionably at him: “Why? You are such a lovable person”. The words left your mouth before you registered fully what you had said. His silence made you fear your previous statement even more. Did you mess up? But as you sneaked a look at him, it seemed like he wore a light blush on his cheek. Brighter than he usual reddened cheeks. Indeed it also could be the incidence of light, hitting his skin differently and creating an illusion of colours. 

As you reached the classroom, you quickly mumbled a spell to unlock the door to Snape’s ingredient collection. “Alright, get what you need. I’ll keep watch”, he said quietly, not really looking at you. You listed off all the ingredients you needed, having remembered them from the plenty of times that you had read over the page. You had placed the ingredients on the desk nearest to you, not risking to drop any in the searching process. But as you looked at the amount of pots and bits, you weren’t so sure if every item would make it back safely. “Could you give me a hand, sir?”, you said a bit louder, so he could hear you from the doorway. His head turned quickly to where you were standing. “Oh. Of course, darling”, he smiled, rushing over to your side. He took the bigger part of the items, stressing that it was only right. He could carry them all with only one arm, the other softly placed on the small of your back as he guided you out of the classroom. It must have been a protective, kind manner he always had had in him. You shouldn’t overthink such an innocent thing. But you had to be fair, it really made your heart melt and your skin burn where he hand was placed. It gave you all sort of tingles. 

He opened his door for you, opening his arm to allow you into his office. “Such a gentleman”, you teased, even if your cheeks were burning up. He glanced to the floor, hiding his face from your view. You set all the ingredients on the table, setting them on order of how you would need to use them. Remus placed his cauldron on the table and started to go over the instructions. He mostly gave you the lead, but stepped in wherever you were going to make a mistake. He also gave you useful tips for future potions. “You are doing a great job, (Y/N)”, he smiled form your side, keeping a respectable distance from you. “Well, you are helping me a lot. So, you could say we make quite a great team”, you smirked lightly, not really daring to look over to him. You just focused on stirring in the cauldron. A weight fell of your shoulders when you hear him chuckle: “If you say so, it must be true”. He sounded a little more playful. 

As you added the last ingredient, the liquid turned a beautiful pastel pink. The aroma that came from it was way better than all your previous attempts. You leaned over the cauldron to take a whiff of the odor. “Oh wow, this smells good. It’s way better than all my other attempts. It’s smells like man’s cologne and chocolate”, you said with an excited smile, but it fell soon after. “Or is it just you?”, you asked a Remus with a sad tone. You really wanted to succeed, but after all your failed attempts you didn’t know what Amortentia smelled or looked like. 

Lupin’s eyes were switching between your face and his hands, as if he were unsure of what to say or do. “Normally it smells like what you’re attracted to, miss/ mister (Y/L/N)”. Your eyes widened the slightest bit. Of course you knew that. You were just so enchanted by the smell, that you forgot you were actually outing your secret to the person you wanted to know the least. “Oh, yeah. I know that. But as my other attempts smelled so awful, I thought maybe Amortentia had an actual odor”, you tried to safe yourself. It was partly true, but you tried to cover up the fact that you had outed your secret. You had admitted smelling him, admitting to liking him as the potion had succeeded. “It- It’s alright”, he spoke quietly. A short moment of silence fell over the two fo you. But before it could get any more awkward, you decided to speak up again. “So, uhm. What do you smell, sir”. He seemed to swallow a big lump that had formed in his throat. Slowly he came into movement, leaning over the cauldron as well. He closed his eyes to focus on the scents that he smelled. “Old books and (a scent linked to you)”, he said absentmindedly. He reopened his eyes, but they weren’t focussing on anything particularly. He seemed a bit fazed out, but so were you. Maybe it was the potion, or it was the sudden awareness of your feelings and the position you found yourself in. You were trying to register what he had said previously. Did he smell you? it could be anyone, right? A lot of people must smell like that. You didn’t want to get your hopes up. It would only lead to heartaches. 

You fell back into reality, shaking your head lightly. Once your eyes were focussing again on the room you found yourself in, you realized how close you stood to one another. You must have subconsciously moved closer towards him. When you found the courage to look up, you found his clear blue eyes already trained on you. You felt very nervous underneath his gaze, as if you were being put on spot. You licked your lips as a sign of nerves. Your eyes roaming through the whole room, trying to avoid his gaze. You didn’t know what to do. “No, I can’t do this”, he whispered, stepping a few steps back. “What do you mean?”, you were really confused. Did he meant to do something? You knew nothing could happen between the two fo you. It was wrong in many ways, but you couldn’t help your feelings. You didn’t really expect him to feel anything back. So this came as a hit in the face, as if there had been actual hope all along. “You- you’re my student...”. You nodded slowly, still not getting exactly what he was on to. You had some speculations, but needed confirmation. You couldn’t trust your intuition. 

“I know.. In two months I won’t be. At least if I graduate”. He shook his head lightly, going with his hand through his hair. “Still.. I’m 5 years older than you. We can’t do this..”, he pointed between the two of you. At that moment it hit you. Your speculations were confirmed. You were somewhat embarrassed for how long it had taken you to realize what was happening. “You- you were considering that anything could happen between- between us?”, you stuttered, still not registering it completely. You were feeling like your ears were playing tricks on you. “Maybe...”, he said unsure. Even if you didn’t had your hopes up for anything to happen, still somewhere deep down the sparks of it had hidden. Knowing that he had considered it, but refused to follow through with it, hurt you more than expected. Your eyes started to water, but kept the tear in. Of course he noticed the change. He stepped closer to you and wiped away the single tear that had fallen from your eye. “I’m sorry, love. Please don’t cry”. You forced a small chuckle, smiling at his loving face. “No, it’s okay. Honestly, It’s okay”. Both your voices were quiet as they spoke, not willing to hurt the other even further. 

You couldn’t blame him for this decision. You couldn’t ask such a thing, couldn’t expect such a thing. It was against the rules. He needed to keep a certain distance with his students. The least you wanted was him to lose his job, because of your foolish crush. You respected his decision, even if it hurt. It would be for the better. 

His hand was still on your cheek. It was soft and warm against your skin. You wanted to cherish this moment, even if it was going to break your heart as soon as it ended. His other hand comfortably rested on your waist. “Screw the rules”, he mumbled. Before you registered what was happening, his soft lips were capturing yours in an unexpected but loving kiss. It was soft and tender, but all the while it was full of love. Once the shock wore off, your hands fell to his chest. You softly grabbed the fabric of his sweater. You could feel his rapid heartbeat underneath your palm. He pulled you closer to his body, deepening the kiss. His hand went to the back of your head, not willing to break the kiss yet. Eventually you needed to do so, as you were running out of air. You kept your closeness, both recovering from the unexpected kiss. 

“You are going to be the death of me, love”,he said breathlessly. You chuckled at his comment, leaning in to his chest to cuddle him. You enjoyed the warmth and feeling of being wrapped up in his arms. You looked up at him, being met by his sweet smile and enchanting eyes. “Likewise, sir”, you said before you captured his lips in a second kiss. This time even more passionate. The both of you smiled into it, feeling complete. It felt right. Even if you broke some rules, it was all worth it. 

[atlafan]

My Everything - Part Thirteen

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut! 7K

Masterpost

You and Harry had gotten into the habit of singing Jack to sleep at night, and he seemed to really like it. It was something nice for the two of you to do together. Your hormones were starting to level back out too, which was great. Having Anne around was a huge help too. Gemma had come to visit for a couple of weeks, but she couldn’t stay much longer than that.

Nannie had come up around Father’s Day, so your mom had a big cookout for everyone, even your dad came so you could all be together. You had just missed the mark for Mother’s Day, of course, but you were happy to celebrate Harry. He needed the reassurance since he was putting so much pressure on himself.

“Oy! Look at those cheeks!” Nannie says as she holds Jack. She gives him a nice big kiss. “Now that is delicious, absolutely delicious.”

Tons of pictures are taken to show the four generations of people there. Harry was happy Anne was there too. Not that he didn’t like your family, but it was always nice to have a buffer. Plus he enjoyed seeing her interact with everyone.

“You look so good, honey.” Nannie says to you.

“Oh, thanks, yeah, I’m not where I want to be, but getting there.”

“Your body will never look the way it did.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You laugh.

“All I’m saying is, you’re healthy right?”

“Yeah.”

“So don’t stress too much.” She gives you a reassuring smile.

//

You were passed the six week mark, and you were more than cleared to have sex again, but you were extremely nervous. You weren’t sure if you wanted to go back on the pill or not, maybe use an IUD for a bit until you were ready for another kid. There was a lot to consider. It didn’t help either when you got your first real period for the first time in eleven months. You were raging, and Harry did his best to stay out of your way, but the summer heat wasn’t exactly helping either.

“Are you okay?!” You looked paler than a ghost when you came back out to join him on the couch with Jack.

“Yeah.” You sit back down and sigh. “I just threw up.”

“Why?!”

“Because…I can’t even begin to describe the clot of blood that just came out of me, dude. Like, never in my life have I been so disgusted by my own bodily function.” You look at him.

“Here, uh, take him. I’m gonna get you a big glass of ice water.” He hands the baby to you and he gets up. You take the glass of water from him as he sits back down, and takes Jack back.

“Harry, we should talk about birth control. I have a doctor’s appointment coming up.”

“Alright, what do you feel like doin’?”

“I have zero idea. I could go back on the pill, but that means readjusting to new hormone shit. I mean any form could mean that. I was thinking of maybe an IUD, but those are risky. I truthfully can’t see us using condoms all the time, and if we slip up that could mean another baby, and I’d sort of like to stick with one for a while if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s see how things go with him first.” He smiles. “Maybe the pill is the best option then? You know what you’re like when you’ve been on it.”

“But I’m scared that if I go on it again now that when we do want another one we’ll have issues like before. Ugh, I have no idea what to do.”

“See what Dr. Johnson thinks, I mean, she deals with this stuff all the time. She might know what’s best.”

“I miss having sex with you, I’ll get it figured out soon.”

“I miss it too, but I also want you to take care of yourself. You’ve put your body through enough already because of me.”

“See, when you say stuff like that, it makes me want to have sex with you.” You groan.

“So, you want me to be less nice to you?” He laughs.

“No, you’re pretty sexy when you’re rude too.” You smirk.

“Think that’s just your hormones talkin’, love.”

“Maybe.” You shrug. “I’m also a little nervous to have sex again…what if it, like, really hurts?”

“We’re not exactly strangers to taking things slow in that department. We can start out doing little things. I could just eat you out.” He grins.

“Aw, it’ll be like when we first started dating.” You giggle. “How romantic.” You roll your eyes.

“Last thing I wanna do is hurt you, so we’ll just take it easy, small steps.”

//

“Everything has healed up nicely, Y/N.” Dr. Johnson tells you. “You can sit up now.”

“Thanks.”

“Any discomfort going to the bathroom?”

“Not so much anymore…but I had my first period, and it was disgusting.”

“That can happen.” She nods. “Your body’s still letting a lot of things out, you know?”

“Right. Um, I had some questions about sex and stuff.”

“Oh, you’ve been cleared-“

“No, I know, I guess I was just wondering about birth control. I know Harry and I are gonna want another kid at some point, and it took us longer than I thought to get pregnant with Jack. I’m scared that if I go on some form of it that we’ll run into trouble again, but I also really don’t wanna use condoms all the time.” You sigh. “But I don’t wanna accidentally get pregnant again right away.”

“I think an IUD might be best then. It’s less hormonally invasive, and when you take it out you can try for baby.”

“Aren’t there more risks? Harry, uh, well, he can get in pretty, um, deep.” You blush. “It could get jostled.”

“If your husband is ramming into your uterus, then I think we have bigger problems.” She laughs. “It goes in through an opening in your cervix and into the uterus. Sex can’t jostle it. We wouldn’t use them if it did.”

“Oh, I guess that was kind of stupid then.”

“It’s alright. No stupid questions.” She looks at you. “There’s a copper one that doesn’t have any hormones. It essentially works like spermicide. There are strings on the end of it that you can sort of feel to make sure it’s in place. But Harry shouldn’t be able to feel it during sex. You can still us tampons. I could do it for you today if you want, the procedure doesn’t take long.”

“What if he’s fingering me? We do a lot of that…” You blush again.

“If you’re doing that he may feel the strings, but-“

“Or what if he’s going down on me?”

“Y/N.” She sighs. “You don’t have to decide today. It’s a hormone free option though, and the copper one actually works right away. You just need to wait twenty-four hours after it’s inserted. A lot of people use them. If you try it and don’t like it we can always take it out.”

“And you can do it today?”

“Sure! I just gave you an exam, I know what size you’d need. It’ll be a little uncomfortable while it’s going in. Sort of feels like when you’re getting a pap.”

“Alright, let’s just do it. If I don’t like it, I’ll come back.”

“Okay, after I put it in, I’m gonna use a mirror to show you what to look for. You should be able to feel the strings to make sure it’s in the right place.”

You nod and wait for her to go get a nurse.

//

Later, when you come home, Harry’s sitting with Jack on the floor, just playing with him. It was an incredibly sweet sight.

“Jack look, it’s mummy.”

“Do you think he’ll have an accent?” You come over and sit on the floor with them.

“You know, technically, to me, you have an accent. So he could have yours, or a mix of both.” He kisses you and hands him over. You snuggle him close to you. “How was your appointment?”

“Good, everything’s really good. I had her put a non-hormonal IUD in to try. If I don’t like it she can take it out. It was really fucking uncomfortable though, so hopefully I’ll like it.”

“How’s it feel now?”

“Fine, can’t even really tell it’s up in there. Although, you maybe be able to feel the strings on the end of it with your fingers…sorry.”

“Not a problem, you’re not the first girl I…” You give him a warning look. “Um, it’s no big deal is all I mean.”

“Mhm.” You give Jack kisses on his chubby cheeks. “How was lunch with your mum?”

“Oh it was good! It was good for her to spend time with him.”

“How much longer is she staying here?”

“Only another week or so. I’m kinda sad, it’s been nice to call her and have her be right there, you know?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You frown. “At least we can spend a little longer there for the holidays, right? Since my winter break is so long, we can go for two weeks instead of one.”

“Very true, and I can always pick up some freelance while I’m out there. Do you think once you’re back on campus you’ll bring him with you?”

“Probably. I think I’ll go to campus quite a bit even though I’m teaching online. I like my office. I was looking into it, and they do have a daycare on campus. The babies need to be at least six months, I think to make sure they have all their shots, but I can put my name in the pool.”

“Must be expensive, no?”

“It’s a little pricey, but it would get him socialized with kids his own age, and at least it would be a formal daycare, and I’d be right there if he needed me.”

“Yeah, I like the idea of that. I suppose comin’ to work with me all the time probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“It’s one thing to bring Buster, but your staff are not babysitters.”

“Obviously.” He looks over at Buster and pets him. “These two have become quite the little buddies. I think he likes the way Jack smells.” He chuckles.

“Still got that new baby smell somehow.”

“His acne’s gotten better.”

“You’ll never believe what I did to get it to go away.”

“What?”

“I read that you should rub your nipple over the baby’s face, so I just started doing that when I’d feed him.”

“Are you serious?” He laughs.

“Yeah! Worked great, didn’t it, Jack?” You hold him up to look at him and he giggles slightly. “God, he’s so cute. We got the world’s cutest baby.”

“We really do.”

//

At some point in July, you got your family photos taken. Mariah did them for you at the studio. It was lovely. It was nice to finally be feeling better about yourself. You and Harry hadn’t quite dived into the sex stuff yet. You had started giving him blow jobs and things of that nature, but you hadn’t let him touch you.

“Harry, I’m not ready to leave him for the night.” You pout.

“Y/N.” He sighs. “My mum is gonna be with him all night. It’s your twenty-eighth birthday, we’re going away for the night like we planned.”  

“Why do we always need a getaway? What’s wrong with staying in? It’s not even a big birthday. Now your birthday later this year, that’s a big birthday, but mine-“

“If we don’t do this now, we’ll never be able to leave him. He’s in good hands.”

“I never said he wasn’t! I just…” You start to tear up. “What if he needs me? What if he can’t sleep without us?” You hear the buzzer for the door.

“That’s my mum. We only have her here another few days, and that’s because she extended her stay another month for us. Please, let her have this last little sleepover, and let us have some alone time.” He huffs, and opens the door.

You didn’t like being put in your place like that, but you knew he was right. You both thank Anne and say goodbye to Jack before heading out. You were quiet on the ride to the hotel. You knew it was good to get away, but you were sad nonetheless.

“It’s by the beach. I thought tomorrow we could go out, lay outside like you like?”

“Sure.”

“Honey…” He puts his hand over yours. “I’ll miss him too, but this’ll be good for us. We haven’t been alone in a long time.”

“We have plenty of alone time.”

“You’re always afraid we’re gonna wake him up or something. Think of how nice it’ll be to shower without worrying if he’s gonna cry or not.”

“I know.” You sigh. “You’re right about all of it. I’m just not happy about it. I feel like I’m so old already.”

“Old?! What does that make me? You’re not the one that’s six months away to bein’ thirty.” He scoffs.

“I know, it’s silly.” You shake your head at yourself.

Many thoughts left your head as soon as the wine at dinner hit your lips. You’d have to pump and dump, but you didn’t care. You and Harry enjoyed a really nice meal that was long overdue. For the first time in a long time, you were on a date with your husband. For the first time in a long time, the main focus of conversation wasn’t about your son. It was like you were getting to know each other all over again, and it felt good.

“Babe?” You say to him as you get back up to the hotel room.

“Yeah?”

“Will you make love to me?”

He pouts at you and gives you those eyes that look like a puppy’s. He thought he was going to melt into a puddle.

“Of course I will, angel.” He comes over to you and cups your cheeks in his hands. “S’not why I brought you here, I hope you know that.” He kisses your forehead.

“I do.”

He tilts your chin up so you can look at him before he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. You can’t remember the last time you two really kissed like this, which was kind of sad. You feel tears prick at the back of your eyes, and you try to blink them away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…we’ve really put us on the back burner, huh?” You wipe under your eyes.

“Little bit…” He brings you over to the bed and you both sit down. “I haven’t wanted to say much because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know you’ve been nervous. I’ve appreciated you takin’ care of me, but you know I much prefer doing it to you.”

“Remember when we used to be able to take our time for everything? I mean, when was the last time we even got to do anal? Your ass must be so tight by now.”

“Y/N.” Harry laughs, and puts his hand on your shoulder. “One step at a time, yeah?” He leans in to kiss you again. “Let’s just take advantage of this time. We can take all the time in the world.”

“Okay…I know it’ll be fine, I just can’t help but feel nervous.”

“S’just me, love. Nothin’ to be nervous about.”

You nod and stand up. You go to take your shirt off and you grab your breast pump.

“Let me just, uh, take care of this first.” You take everything into the bathroom so you can pump and dump.

Harry gets some music playing and tries to make the atmosphere a little more romantic. You come back out with your arms crossed. He had gotten undressed other than his boxers.

“Come here, sweet girl.”

You walk over to him, only in your underwear and let him hold you close. His hands slide down your sides and then to your breasts. He kisses down your neck and then your chest.

“Harry, wait.”

“What?”

“Don’t…suck on my nipples…”

“Why not? You love that.” He frowns.

“Not when I’m still producing milk!” His hand moves up to grip your throat and your eyes widen.

“Alright, but I’m sucking wherever else I want. That okay?” You nod your head slowly. “Good, now get on the bed.”

He lets you go so you can crawl on the bed. He gets on and hovers over you. He kisses you and works his way to your neck, sinking his teeth in and sucking harshly. You gasp and clutch at his shoulders. He works his way down your body, sucking where he pleases. He pays special attention to your tummy, kissing on your stretch marks that he loved so much. He hooks his fingers into your panties and drags them down your legs. You instinctively clamp your thighs together. Harry puts his hands on your knees and looks at you.

“Would you open up f’me, please, my love?” He asks ever so softly. You take a deep breath and open up for him. He looks down and smiles. “Look, at that. How’s my old friend doin’?”

“Harry.” You giggle.

“M’just sayin’, it’s been a minute. She looks real good, even better than I remember, honestly.” He kisses from your knee down your thigh, stopping to suck on your skin right near your center. He looks up at you and you nod. He licks a flat stripe up from your center to your clit. “Mm, oh my god.” He groans and continues to lap at you.

You lean back on your elbows as things start to feel good. You couldn’t help but get wet from the sounds Harry was making against you. You grip at his hair as he starts to suck on your clit. You grit your teeth when you feel a finger slip inside you.

“Shit.” You moan out.

“That feel oka-“ You don’t let him finish his sentence, you just push his head back down.

“Fuck, Harry, that’s it!” It all becomes too much and you end up coming on his finger. He continues to suck on you as you ride it out. He sits up to look at you afterwards.

“Yeh taste so fucking good.”

“I do?”

“You have no idea.” He leans in to kiss you quick.

“I didn’t know if anything would happen, but I packed some lube just in case. Might be good to use some.”

“Good idea.” He smiles and gets off the bed to grab it from your bag. He slides his boxers off, and get some lube on his hard cock. He spreads some around you as well. “Ready f’me, doll face?”

“Mhm, want you so bad.”

“If it doesn’t feel good make sure to let me know.”

“I will.”

You grip his biceps as he slowly pushes inside you. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling. Once he’s all the way in, he looks down at you. You were gritting your teeth and your eyes were squeezed shut.

“Y/N.” He grunts. Your eyes open slightly to look at him. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” He frowns.

“No! It doesn’t, I’m just getting used to it. I’m really sensitive. How’s it feel for you? Loose, right?” He smirks at you and shakes his head.

“You feel amazing, and I’m not just sayin’ that. Can’t even tell you pushed Jack’s big head outta there.” You both giggle and you relax a little.

“Okay, you can move.”

“Are yeh sure?”

“Yeah, come on, Daddy, fuck me.” Harry’s face completely drops and you burst out laughing.

“That’s not funny.”

“Oh come on, I’ve been dying to say that to you since he was born.” You wipe some tears away. “It was funny.”

“Yeah, you’re a real comedian, babe.” He rolls his eyes. His hand slides to grip your throat again. “Don’t say it again unless you mean it, understand?”

“Okay, okay.” He move his hand away so you can speak. “How about, fuck me, Harry?”

“I like that better.”

He starts to rock in and out of you slowly. Your hands drag down his back, your nails definitely leaving marks. You both were panting against each other. One of his hands snakes between the two of you so he can rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck.” Your head rolls back into the pillows, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Fuckin’ love you so much.”

“Love you too, shit, love you so much.”

“I get to have this forever?”

“All yours, forever.”

He groans and picks up the pace. He loses it as he watches your full breasts bounce up and down, and you come from the way he rubs your clit. You gasp at the way his come feels as it fills you up. He collapses on top of you as he tries to catch his breath.

After you both use the bathroom, you get into bed and rest your head on his chest. He rubs your back as you trace shapes on his stomach.

“That was amazing.” You say, looking up at him.

“Yeah? Felt really good for you?”

“Mhm, it was perfect. I’m sorry I was so nervous before.”

“You were just bein’ cautious, I get it.”

“And I really felt good?”

“You felt incredible, I swear. Thought I was nearly going to come when I just got the tip in.” You giggle and snuggle in closer. He looks over and sees it’s past midnight. “Happy birthday, angel.” He kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you.”

//

A couple days a week you’d hold office hours at school, and bring Jack with you. He was so good and barely fussed while you worked, and your students loved seeing him. It was nice to be back on campus after being home with him all summer. He was just about five months old, and was actually starting to look like a person.

Sometimes you’d take Jack to visit Harry on his lunch breaks and it always made Harry happy to see the two of you walk into the studio. You really had a routine down.

“Harry, we got on the list for the daycare at school for next semester, isn’t that great?” You tell him one night at dinner. “There were a couple of open spots. It’ll only be a few days a week since I’m only teaching Monday, Wednesday, Friday.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, we had a meeting today about what days certain classes are gonna be offered. I’m still teaching the same amount, just more on fewer days.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Yeah! I can go in for office hours on Tuesdays, and then be home on Thursdays. It’ll cost less if he’s a part timer too.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.” He shrugs. “I wanna run somethin’ by you.”

“Okay.” You put your fork down to look at him. Before Harry can speak you hear the baby monitor. “Oh shit, he must’ve pooped.” You sigh. “Sorry, one second.”

Harry cleans up the dishes while you go to change Jack. You come back into the kitchen and wash your hands.

“He go back to sleep?”

“Mhm, barely woke up while I changed him.” You laugh. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“We got this place because it was a decent halfway point between Mark It and Plant Geo, and because Niall was across the street. None of those things matter anymore, do they?”

“I suppose not.”

“I was thinking…I love this place, really I do. It’s been such a great home for us for almost five years.”

“What are you saying, you wanna move?”

“I just thought maybe it would be nice to find a place with a yard. Somewhere Buster could run around, Jack could play outside without us havin’ to pack a bunch of shit to go to the park when he gets older.”

“You wanna be suburbs people?”

“Not necessarily, I mean, we could look for a detached townhouse or something. My business is in the city, and so it your work, so it wouldn’t make sense to move super far away and add a longer commute. But I know there’s neighborhoods around here we could look into.”

“Do we even have enough for a down payment? Homes in Mass are so expensive. Remember what Niall and Sarah had to deal with?”

“My step-father owned some real-estate. When he passed away my mum sold the building. Instead of giving Gem and I the money right away, she put it into an account for us. I have the money for a down payment, I just have to ask my mum. It’s what she’s been savin’ it for anyways.”

“Oh my god. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I honestly forgot about it. I’ve been talkin’ to my mum about all this, and she reminded me. What do you think? Do you wanna look for a house or something?”

“I mean…sure, I suppose we’re starting to outgrow this place. We don’t exactly have a functional guest room anymore. I don’t know where we’d look.”

“In all honesty, I think it would be nice to look in the Milton area. It’s just outside the city, we could hop on the T if we didn’t feel like driving in.”

“The traffic in the morning would be unbearable…”

“Like I said, I could hop on the T. Niall and Sarah seem to manage just fine. Or I was thinking Quincy.”

“Quincy is nice…and we’d be even closer to my family. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to look, right?”

“I think we should look in like November. A lot of people won’t wanna deal with a move in the winter time so we’d have less competition.”

“You’ve really thought this through.” You smirk.

“It’s definitely been on my mind. Plus…I could always move the business. I lease the space, it’s not like I own it. I could always find another spot if it got annoying for me. It’s you I’d be more concerned about. Like we wouldn’t be able to just run home if we needed something, or visit each other as often.” He sighs. “I definitely don’t wanna go Northshore.”

“God, no.” You cringe. “I think if we could find a neighborhood that has easy access to the T, that should be fine. And you make your own schedule, it’s not like you need to be there at 8AM every day. And I’m allowed to say when I want to teach and what times. None of my classes start before ten next semester.”

“You don’t have any at night right?”

“Nope. Need to stick to Jack’s schedule.”

“That daycare’ll come in so handy if we move.”

“Imagine if we found something in Niall and Sarah’s neighborhood? Niall takes the T to his work a lot, he says he doesn’t mind it. Sarah drives in, and she said as long as you leave early enough the traffic isn’t too bad. It’s more so coming home when it gets bogged down. But we get stuck in that just as bad in the city now.”

“So…we can start house hunting?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “I think it’s a great idea.”

//

You and Harry had found a home down the street from Niall and Sarah, and it was better than perfect. It had four bedrooms and three baths, a nice big basement that could be finished if you wanted it to be, a garage, and a decent sized yard, room for a pool in the future, perhaps. You only had to compete with one other offer, but ultimately, yours was accepted. You bought it just after Thanksgiving. As you walked around your empty apartment, a few tears came to your eyes. There were so many good memories had at this place.

“Ready, love?” Harry asks, Jack on his hip, and Buster at his side. “Think we’ve got everything we need.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Your friends and family were able to help you move, thank God. There wasn’t much work that needed to be done to the house either. You were able to get whatever painting and small things done before moving in. Harry would be able to catch the train with Niall most mornings and afternoons if he felt like it, and your commute wouldn’t be that bad either. Only about ten minutes longer than usual. It felt good to own a house. Jack would have a real neighborhood to grow up in. Your yard was fenced in for Buster, not that he could really use it at the moment what with snow starting to come.

You and Harry spent two and half weeks in London for the holidays. He got some freelancing done while he was there just to make some extra cash. His business was thriving, but expenses tended to add up from time to time now that you had a baby to worry about. He was always putting away for a rainy day, which was smart. Louis and Eleanor got to spend time with you all, and it was cute to watch Eliza May interact with Jack. Overall, it was a great trip and you were thankful that some things didn’t need to change.

He wasn’t expecting much for his thirtieth birthday since you had just bought a house and were still settling in. Maybe just a simple dinner with friends. He had the week from hell with people at work. Him and Mariah had this big sale going on from the New Year, so naturally a ton of people were coming in. It was worth it for the extra money, but they both were exhausted.

“What are you doing for your birthday, Harry?” Isaac asks at the end of the day Friday.

“I have no idea. I told Y/N I didn’t want anything big, so I think she’s just gonna have dinner ready for me when I get home and we’re just gonna chill this weekend.” He shrugs.

“Sounds nice.” He grins. “Thirty’s a big deal, you know? It’s like you’re officially an adult.”

“Oh, so the wife and child didn’t make me an adult?” He smirks.

“Nope, now it’s really real.”

Harry takes the T home, as he did every day. For some reason Niall said not to wait for him at their meet up spot. He didn’t really think much of it. He was on autopilot as well when he drove home from the train station, so he didn’t notice the street littered with cars. What he did noticed when he pulled into the driveway was his house had no lights on.

“What the…?” He pulls into the garage. “Her car’s here…don’t even fuckin’ tell me the power went out.” He groans.

Harry gets out of the car and goes into the house. He kicks his shoes off in the basement mudroom area you had set up, and he hangs his coat up. He flicks the light on to go up the stairs to the kitchen. As he reaches the top of the stairs, more lights flick on-

“Surprise!” A ton of people pop out and yell.

“Jesus Christ!” He clutches at his chest since his heart had started pounding.

You walk over to him giggling, and kiss him on the cheek. You hand him Jack, who had been waiting to see his Daddy all day.

“Happy birthday, honey, are you surprised?” You beam at him.

“Very…I…I had no idea.” He smiles and kisses your temple.

“That’s the whole point.” You laugh. Harry’s jaw drops when he sees Issac and Mariah standing around.

“How the fuck did you get here before me?”

“We may have gone over the speed limit a bit.” Mariah says. “Happy birthday.”

“You knew all this time she was plannin’ a bloody party and you didn’t tell me?” He scolds Isaac.

“We were sworn to secrecy. I’m far more scared of her than you, H, sorry.”

The party was a lot of fun, tons of friends, a few family members, and Harry could have as much to drink as he wanted since he didn’t need to drive anywhere.

“Lemme take him, it’s time for bed.” You say. “Say night night, Jack.” Harry gives his son a kiss before he hands him to you.

“Yeh did good, Y/N.” Niall says, as he helps you put Jack down. “Harry really had no idea.”

“It helped that he’s been too busy to notice me putting the plans together. Perfect way to have a little house warming too, don’t you think?”

“You’re always thinkin’.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You and Sarah have been married a few months now, been together a few years…do you think you two will grow your family in any way, or are you not so into the baby thing?”

“I want whatever she wants, and she doesn’t seem to want kids.” He shrugs. “She’s always sayin’ her kids at school are enough. We might get a dog soon though.”

“That’s nice.” You smile. “Not that she needs to have kids or anything, I was just wondering is all.”

“My brother’s got a couple, I’m honestly happy just bein’ an uncle, and I think she likes bein’ an auntie to Jack.”

“Whatever works, right? Besides, I’m grateful to have you both so close by again. Jack will really get to know his auntie and uncle.”

“Exactly, and then when he’s older I can teach him how to properly play soccer because honestly Harry is shit at soccer.”

You burst out laughing, and clasp a hand over your mouth to not wake up the baby boy you just got to rest. You both sneak out of the room, and head back downstairs. Harry was chatting with Seth about something, and they were both laughing over whatever it was.

Around 11PM, everyone disperses. People were tired from the work week, after all. You say goodnight to everyone, and collect the cards and gifts people had left for Harry.

“You can open these tomorrow.” You yawn. “Let’s go to bed.” He grabs you and pulls you into him. He kisses you all over your face and you giggle. “Someone had fun.” You push away from him and go upstairs to your bedroom.

“Loads.” He pinches your bum and you have to stop yourself from squealing. You put a finger up to your lips to signal he needed to be quiet.

“If he wakes up, you can put him back to sleep.” You unzip your jeans and throw them in the hamper.

“Well, now you’re just not playin’ fair.” He closes the door behind him. Buster had gotten into the habit of sleeping in Jack’s room. He liked being near him at night.

“What, what am I doing?” You take your sweater off next and throw it in the hamper as well.

“You’re givin’ me a little strip tease.” He sits down on the edge of bed, practically bouncing on it.

“Am not.” You smirk. “I always get undressed like this.” You reach behind yourself and unclasp your bra before going into the bathroom to do your nightly routine. When you come back out Harry was still sitting there with a dumb smile on his face. You were completely naked now. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, actually.” He looks down at his crotch and then back to you.

“Ohhhh, I see. It’s your birthday, so you want to have sex, is that it?”

“Well, I always want to have sex, but sure, yeah, that’s it.”

You stand in front of his parted legs and rest your hands on his shoulders. You run one of your hands through his hair and get a good fistful to bring his head back slightly. You plant kisses down his neck while he grips your hips to pull you into his lap. You straddle him while you suck on the available skin. One of his hands moves up to grip your throat.

“Get comfortable while I get undressed.” He says to you before letting you go.

“Now who’s giving the strip tease?” You cock an eyebrow as you sit up against the headboard. “And who said you were in charge tonight?”

“It’s my birthday.” He scoffs. “Can’t I have it how I want it?” He gets all of his clothes off and walks back over to the bed.

“And how exactly do you want it? I was planning to get that cock down my throat, but if that’s not something you want-“

Harry gets on the bed and sits next to you, spreading his legs apart.

“Be my fuckin’ guest.”

You giggle and get between his legs. You start by suckling his tip. He closes his eyes as his body starts to relax. You take him further in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck on him. His hands run through your hair, making a ponytail with his fist to hold it back for you.

“Ah, fuck.” He breathes as his head rolls back.

You cradle his balls as you bob your head up and down. You groan against him when you taste his precum. This causes him to buck his hips up and you gag slightly on him. He pulls you off of him and you gasp for air.

“I wasn’t done.” You pout.

“Yeah, well, I wanna fuck my wife now, that alright?”

You smile at him as a blush graces your cheeks. He pulls you close to him by the back of your neck and his lips connect with yours. His hands move down to your breasts so he can knead them. Before you know it, you’re being pinned down, your head on the pillows, and Harry’s fingers plunging inside of you.

“Oh, god.” You moan softly.

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth while his fingers do their work inside you. He brings you extremely close to the edge before pulling them out of you.

“I really fucking hate when you do that.” You groan.

“It’s my birthday remember?” You look over to the clock.

“Only for twenty more minutes, smart mouth.”

“Guess I better make it count then, huh?”

He spreads you apart and pushes inside you without much warning. You bite your bottom lip to stifle the moan you desperately wanted to let out. Even though Jack’s room was down the hall, you still didn’t want to risk being too loud. You also had neighbors that you didn’t want to think Harry was beating you from the way he would make you scream sometimes.

His tip brushes against your g-spot and you grind your hips up towards his. He thrusts in and out and it feels so good you think you might cry. It’s not that you two weren’t intimate, you normally just had to keep it quick, or sometimes you were just too tired to put a lot of effort in. Right when you think you’re going to come to your release he pulls out all the way.

“Harry, I swear to god, I-“

He grabs your hips and flips you over. He slides back in and swoops his hand to the front of your throat to pull you back to him, back flush with his chest.

“I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna fuck yeh really hard right now.” He was making slow circular motions with his pelvis while he was talking. You could barely concentrate. “And your face is gonna go right into that nice pillow, so you can scream out all yeh want. How’s that sound?”

“S, sounds good.”

You gasp when he pushes you back down, and starts ramming into you. You grasp at the pillow and keep your face shoved in it to muffle your noises. His balls were slapping against you in the perfect way, and you can’t help but rub your clit while he continues to pound into you the way you were so desperate for. You turn your face to the side to catch some air.

“Harry.” You moan. “Please, I need to come.”

That was all he wanted to hear. Just to have you beg him, at least once, it was always music to his ears.

“Go ahead, angel.” He coos as he gives you more hard thrusts.

You feel his come shoot inside you and you lose it at that. You moan loudly into your pillow as his thrusts slow. He pulls you of you and helps you flip back over. He hovers over you and gives you a soft kiss before getting up to use the bathroom. You use it again after him and climb into bed.

You both face each other and get your legs tangled together. He tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles.

“Thanks for throwin’ me such a great party, babe. I love you so much.”

“You’re more than welcome, and I love you too. You’re thirty.” You giggle.

“I’m thirty.” He sighs. “Little weird.”

“Age is just a number.”

“Tell me.” He rolls onto his back. “Am I still the sexy young thing you fell in love with?” He looks down at his stomach and then to you. “Or am I like Dad bod central?”

“Oh my goodness, Harry.” You can’t help but laugh. You move to straddle him again, removing the covers. “Your stomach is as flat as the day I met you, and even if it wasn’t I’d love you just the same. Besides,” you pinch at his love handles, that he’s always had, “what are you always saying to me? More to love, right?” You lean down and kiss him. “Still plenty sexy, and still plenty young.”

“Thanks, you know how I know I’m still plenty young?”

“How?”

“Because I could fuck you again right now if yeh let me.” He smirks.

“Yeah? Wanna take me for another ride?” You roll your hips down on him.

“I do.” He starts rubbing circles on your sensitive clit.

“Fuck.” You breathe. “I think I could go for a second round. You only turn thirty once, after all.”

[greenninjagal-blog]

The Rumor Mill Game (pt2)

You guys asked, and I have no self control at all. Have some more Intrulogical, now with Plot(tm). If you missed part one you can find it [here!]

Summary: If he thought himself a king of the office, then Logan was honored to be the guillotine. [aka When his coworker, Remus, decides to play a game, Logan is going to make sure he regrets it. Even if its the last thing he does.]

Words: 3506

Quick taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @midnightmagi @shadowjag @residentanchor

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had first put on the ring, he hadn’t expected it to end like this.

But that was mostly his own folly: Logan should have realized that based on his (lack of) knowledge concerning the behaviors of Remus Prince, his imagined plan of action would be....upended. After all, he had barely known the man beyond the occasional sight of  him in the break room where he teetered on the edge of the counter sitting much like a king as his subjects bowed before him.

Logan was of the sound impression that absolutely everyone who had been hired for his company was of the particularly stupid brand. Often times he had imagined his boss had sat down in the interviews and hired the first person who walked in and smiled, because clearly Beatrice from Accounting did not know what she was doing and her inability to use Excel spreadsheets had led him to far too many late nights correcting her work.

It was one such night that had lead to this...this ludicrous situation: Logan had been in his office all day practically tearing his hair out over his coworkers inability to count (what did you do with the decimal point, Kyle? Where did this five come from? Why are you all so inept?) and his coffee had gone cold, and he should have been leaving an hour ago, but these pages had been due two weeks ago and Logan hated leaving things unfinished.

He had a headache brewing from staring at his screen for so long. He peeled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes until they watered before glancing at the clock in the bottom of his screen. After a quick and efficiently ruthless curse towards Janet for being so late to turn in any of her sheets, he scooted back in his chair and had left to refill in coffee mug.

The office floor had been deserted for the most part. Logan should have been grateful, because that meant less possible nonsense to distract him from his work.

But unfortunately, he was quite familiar with Jen’s hair in a loose-but-still-formal bun and Quin’s scarf that they wore like a talisman to ward off bad omens. They clutched it the second they noticed Logan approaching the two of them, as if he had been coming to deliver an upsetting diagnosis and not to use the coffee machine they were standing in front of.

And because Logan was absolutely not in the mood to talk to either of them, Jen had caught sight of him and puffed her cheeks in anger, like some sort of puffer fish. She tuned to face him fully with her arms on her hips and gave him some equivalent to a “death glare”, as Logan assumed people would call it.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I work here,” Logan said, perhaps a little snappish, “Now, might I get to the coffee machine?”

She had huffed, tapped her foot thrice, and then shuffled to the side just enough that Logan could get to the coffee machine.

Thankfully, just enough was still technically enough. He placed his mug beside the coffee maker and checked the cartridge for leftover used grinds because-- once again-- all of his coworkers were extremely disappointing when it came to using their brains.

Jen huffed again and she was close enough that absolutely all of Logan’s internal alarms started ringing. He snapped the cartridge --thankfully clean, Logan ideally wondered if maybe it was possible they were learning. Oh wouldn’t that be a miracle?-- closed and debated giving up on the coffee all together. But he could still see grid patterns when he closed his eyes, so he dug out his preferred coffee brand and set up the maker.

Quin opened their mouth and closed it again several times. It was clear from the way they shifted on their feet and and looked anywhere but at Jen or him that they were uncomfortable. Logan found himself praying to gods that he didn’t believe in that they would hold off until he had his coffee and was safely back in his office.

“I see Remus cleaned your mug.” Quin mumbled softly because the gods that Logan didn’t believe in don’t exist and he was on this planet purely to suffer.

But they had made a semi-valid point. Remus had cleaned his cup just as Logan had requested--just as was basic human politeness when using something of someone else’s possession, regardless of the fact that Remus Prince had not asked permission to use it in the first place. Logan felt his nose twitch in irritation at the memory of the other day.

“Yes,” Logan said between his gritted teeth. Had the coffee machine always been this slow? Or perhaps it was showing its age by taking longer to make his miserable coffee. He was sure that he could move some funds around to get them a new machine by Thursday if he could just make it back to his office--

“That’s all you have to say?” Jen sniped, “Just “Yes”? Unbelievable!”

“If you have an issue,” Logan said to her, “Please keep it to yourself.”

She slammed a hand on the counter, “I cannot believe you! Perfect Logan Ackroyd! You’re just like all the rest of them!”

“Curious how this sounds very much like you are not keeping your issue to yourself,” Logan commented.

“Jen--” Quin said, but she acted much like puddle of gasoline after a match dropped on it.

She got red in the face and her neat eyebrows smashed together as she stared down him with a snarl that most certainly did not belong in the workplace. She stamped her foot like some sort of child-- honestly? Logan shouldn’t have been surprised seeing how he had been able to hear the meltdown that happened after her messy breakup with Kyle. It had been so loud that Remus had even had the gall to look moderately shocked when everything had gone down.

“Where do you guys get off on taking advantage of your significant other’s trust in you?” Jen growled, “Is it fun for you? Do you not care about our feelings? Maybe we weren’t so far off when we said you were a robot, Mr. Ackroyd! You’re cold and cruel and I hope that when your affair comes to light--”

“Jennifer,” Logan hissed, “choose your next words extremely carefully, because I have spent eleven hours going over spreadsheets that have been done wrong and am not in the mood to listen to you prattle about lost love. In case you have forgotten, I very much have control over your sector and it will only take three emails to have you demoted and-or removed from this company.”

Jen’s mouth snapped shut.

Logan thought that was the first merciful thing that had happened all day. He picked up his coffee, holding it tightly in his hand despite the heat radiating off it and headed out of the breakroom.

He stopped at the door, as the dregs of the conversation spun through his brain. “Did you imply that I was having an affair?”

Quin was wringing their hands and Jen was clawing her nails into the counter. Still, they nodded.

“Who told you that?”

And really, Logan should have expected the answer. Of course it was Remus Prince, the advertising privateer who had turned the entire company into some sort of drama circus with his half truths and his lack of a mouth filter.

The Robot Extravaganza had stolen the peace and quiet of Logan’s work atmosphere and driven him up the figurative walls. That week alone had eight times more people rapping on his door frame than he had had in the entire year previously. And of course that ridiculous white board they had put up in the far wall as if Logan was incapable of reading and comprehending words. It was unprofessional and childish and Logan had barely gotten any work done when he had been constantly interrupted with mundane questions of “Logan do you need to eat?”, “Logan how do you shower without rusting?”, “Logan do you have batteries or do you plug yourself in at night?”, “Logan!”, “Logan!”, “Logan!”.

Not to mention the way that Remus had laughed the entire time as if he found the idea of Logan being harassed particularly amusing. And Logan hated that laugh. It was terrible and awful and grating, and it made Logan want to tear out his hair because it sounded so much like---

“Is that so,” Logan said absently to Jen and Quin. “Remus Prince told you I was having an affair.”

He shifted to hold his mug with both hands, his eyes slipping over to that counter where Remus had been sitting before, with that same mug between his legs daring suggestive thoughts. How many times had Logan seen him sitting there looking like he could control the whole world with a few crass comments?

It was a game to him, wasn’t it? A game that Remus loved to play because he always won.

And who better to fix that than Logan who had been craving for revenge like it was a figurative itch under his very skin?

“Ah, well then,” Logan said and then because he was very much not the type to let people misinterpret him, he added, “I hadn’t realized my husband’s antics would upset you so much, Jen. I apologize on his behalf.”

That got their attentions real quick. Quin’s neck cracked with the force of which they turned their head to look him in the eye. Jen blinked several times as if she was having trouble processing things.

“Husband?” Jen repeats, as if she hadn’t heard the term before.

Logan straightened his back, “I’ll repeat myself slower since this seems to be overwhelming for your small brain. Remus Prince and I are married.”

“You’re a real asshole!” She covered her mouth and then fluttered her hands in a bootless waste of motions. “You’re serious? Wait of course you are! How could I forget, necktie! Oh my god, you’re serious. You and Remus?”

Logan took a sip of his coffee. “I have spreadsheets to amend.”

“Wait wait wait! I want details! Logan get back, here!” Jen screeched after him.

Logan wondered vaguely if this was the reason why Remus spread these rumors so often: the short zappy thrill that had ignited his neurons was much more effective than his coffee could ever hope to be. And Jen had believed him without a hesitance-- which truly was revealing of her hot headed nature. It was, dare he say, exciting. He hadn’t felt this way since his college lab days when he had tackled the creation of experiments with unbridled vigour.

Just how much was she willing to accept just because Logan had been the one to tell her? Just how wild of an accusation could Logan offer up before she wisened up? How quickly would this get back to Remus?

Logan itched to set up an experiment to test it all out. After all he would only get one chance to do this: most certainly when Remus gathered wind of how Logan had turned his false information back on him, Remus would come clean and admit that they had never even seen each other.

It would ruin both of their reputations. Remus as someone who spread truths, and Logan as someone who could be believed in every instance.

But Remus would still choose it over allowing anyone in the work area to think they were married. Logan knew this easily, obviously, irrefutably. They were strangers, not even acquaintances.

“Janet! Janet!” Jen screeched surprisingly loud for someone of her stature. “Janet did you know that Remus and Logan are married?” 

Logan hadn’t realized Janet was still there at all, but at the accusation she flung backwards from her cubical in her rolling office chair and nearly crashed into Logan on just feet from his private office door.

“Run that by me again!” She demanded, “Remus and Logan?”

Logan opened his door and let himself in but before he could close it, Janet wedged her foot in the way.

“No way! Remus doesn’t wear a ring!”

“Allergic to metals,” Logan listed off the top of his head.

“You don’t wear a ring, either!” Janet said grabbing at his hand and nearly causing him to spill his coffee.

And well….

Quin, Jen, and Janet were all standing at his door, ready to believe whatever he said. He could have just said he was also allergic to metals too, but there was dubious gleam in Janet’s eyes, because yes, this is the sole thing she seemed to be knowledgeable about.

If Janet didn’t believe him now, then Jen would get even more upset at him than before and that would ruin the surprise for Remus tomorrow. A half baked revenge wouldn’t be nearly as good as the one he was expecting.

So he needed a ring.

His eyes slipped over his shoulder to the dinner jacket slumped on the chair in the corner of the room, crumpled and abandoned and gathering dust with the filing cabinet and the box of records that Logan had arranged his first week on the job. 

He needed a ring.

And really it was just for one night.

He could pretend.

So Logan swallowed the sudden unexpected lump in his throat and tracked the three steps to the chair to dig the silver band from the pocket. He tried to remember how long it had been there, how long he had tried shoving it from his mind, and pretending like it and the jacket and that night had never existed. 

It had been a reminder for so long now: like a flashing sign in the night had warned him that a relationship would never be worth that again, that romantic pursuits were frivolous and fleeting and meaningless.

Regardless, it felt like putting on one of his favorite ties, like slipping into his shoes that were broken in perfectly, like it was made for him.

(It hadn’t been and wasn’t that the most ridiculous part of the story?)

It was only for one night, so he let Jen and Janet and Quin ogle over it and answered their questions efficiently. He tore into Remus’s reputation as subtly as he could, making Quin flee the room and Janet fan her face and Jen cackle. He made up a story about a summer wedding, about a honeymoon he thought was just ridiculous, about late night activities he could never imagine doing with anyone.

And when they left, Logan had stared at the band engraved so delicately for another ten minutes. 

“A robot,” Logan said to himself.

Is that what he had thought, too? 

Logan shook his head to clear his mind. He tossed the ring in his pencil cup and gathered his bag and car keys.

If he allowed himself to ignore the lapse in reality, he could even pretend like using the ring in this fashion was the same as saying “Fuck you” to the man he had almost married a year ago.

It was just one night, and an hour or so tomorrow morning after all.

Logan arrived the next day earlier than normal, which was an unexpected surprise. He got to flick on the lights and watch the floor illuminate itself. His shoes made a lovely type of clack on the tiling.

It used to feel lonely, being this early to work, but Logan found himself distracted by the anticipation of the days promised events.

He finished correcting Janet's spreadsheets and sent them off for proper filing, reorganized his desk, slipped on his ring, and managed to get his coffee brewed before most of the office had come alive. 

"Holy shit," he heard Kyle whisper to Max, "Is Logan smiling?"

Curious. It seemed that he was. Logan settled himself against the wall of the break room, Remus’s preferred cup in hand, where he had an excellent view of the cubical where Remus came up with his schemes. Jen, Janet, and Beatrice were already huddling around the entrance, much like a committee of domesticated vultures preparing for a feast.

By the time that Remus showed up to the office, running three minutes late, Logan was nearly giddy. Perhaps he could understand why Remus did what he did, if this was the sort of feeling that he experienced every time he opened his mouth.

Logan had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime; one of his hobbies was visiting art museums, art galleries, movie premieres and the likes while on his mandatory three weeks of time off from work. Still nothing could quite capture the glee that was invoked directly into Logan when Remus’s eyes had widened and his jaw dropped and his face flushed with embarrassment when Quinn squeaked at the sight of him. 

Remus Prince looked like a work of art when the world dumped him on the floor and left him too shocked to speak.

If he thought himself a king of the office, then Logan was honored to be the guillotine. 

Except.

“Logie!” Remus whined, throwing his arms up, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret!”

Logan’s smile vaporized, almost instantly, “Wait--”

“You Mischievous Mathematician, You!” Remus giggled crossing the area far quicker than a person should be able to cross that distance. Logan blinked and suddenly Remus was right in front of him, a foot, half a foot, a handful of inches. And his voice only seemed to get louder, bolder, more excited with every step. Logan had a hypothesis that all twenty eight of the workers on the floor were watching them with baited breath.

“Well I’m happy!” Remus said loudly for Kyle and Jen and Janet and Beatrice and, and, and-- “I’ve missed getting lunch together! Let’s go to the sandwich shop down the street!”

“Absolutely not--”

“Or we could do that Thai restaurant that’s your favorite!” Remus said, which tripped Logan up because Remus had noticed he preferred Thai? Logan couldn’t even remember the last time he had Thai! How could Remus have possibly known he liked Thai? 

“I’ll pay!” Remus said when Logan hadn’t responded quick enough to turn down the lunch proposal. “Oh this is going to be so much fun, Lolo!”

And Remus came in far too close, closer than anyone has been to him in a year. His eyes were brown with flecks of green dark enough to seem like a swamp at Twilight. They gleamed as he fluttered his lashes at Logan and his mouth curls into a pointed smile.

“Let’s play,” Remus said so softly that Logan himself could barely hear it. And then he pulled back, and stepped away with Logan’s coffee in his hands. He took a long sip and licked his lip afterwards. “Mmm! Just how I like it Lo! You’re so good to me!”

Logan knew for a fact that Remus did not like black coffee. He’d seen the numbers that went into buying creamer for the break room.

Just what did Remus think he was doing? Playing along with Logan’s rumor reversal? Encouraging it? 

Remus smiled at him. “Lunch it is!” He said and waved Logan goodbye with his fingers.

Of course Logan could out him right there, right then. All he had to say was that it was a lie and that he and Remus were in no way married and he had no intentions of having lunch together. But for some reason the words seemed to be figuratively jammed in his throat, leaving him with nothing more than splutterings to vocalize his frustration.

Fine. Logan inhaled through his nose, curled his lip, and twisted his watch on his left hand to center his thoughts. Remus would like to play a game?

Fine. Logan could play a game with him. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something, dearest?” Logan said before Remus could get too far away.

He could see the way Remus’s eyes light up at the nickname, the twitch of his mustache where he was struggling not to laugh too boldly. “Am I?”

“I did make you coffee. Do you not tip your barista?” 

“Ah,” Remus swirled the mug, “And how does my “barista” like his tips then?”

When Logan had put on the ring, he had not expected to end up with Remus’s lips on his.

And yet.

Remus kissed like he was dying and wanted to make every second last, like he was living for the moment, like he had nothing left too lose. Logan thought it was ridiculous that he tasted like pickles this early in the morning.

“I think you’ll find I won’t fold that easily, Specs,” Remus breathed when he pulled back.

Logan replied, “May the best man win.”

And then he took his coffee back out of Remus’s hands and headed back to his office with that ring firmly on his hand. It appeared that he would need it for just a bit longer.

Part Three

[secret-engima]

Okay, now I'm imagining one of the 'verses that Zack-Noctis, Aerith-Luna, and Cloud-Prompto (+Ignis and Gladio) trip into, is an /FF7/ verse. When Cloud was just a cadet and Zack was /even more/ of a hyperactive puppy.

hgfdhgf TOTAL CHAOS.

Adorable Chaos.

Gonna just yet the ff7 timeline into the stratosphere because I Do What I Want for this. But basically this is a Happy Ending AU were Stuff Happened so that Gen never degraded/defected, Angeal never defected, Seph is mentally stable, and while Shinra is still a thing to be dealt with at least nobody is calling down meteors on anything else. Cloud is a little Cadet person who accidentally caught Genesis’s eye and so is not the Poet’s apprentice, and Zack is as hyper as ever.

...

-The five of them trip into the FF7 verse and we’ll make them teenagers and stuff for this, Noctis (15), Luna (19), and Prompto (15) all insta-recognize it and freak. Ignis (17) and Gladio (18) take their cue from the freaking and are very cautious. They don’t ask why the three know so much about this strange place or are so agitated but Ignis is Fussing and Gladio is ready to hit something. Luna softly says hey’ll just- have to avoid “everyone important” and the Astrals will undo this as soon as they can.

-Their luck being what it is, they are somewhere in the slums of Midgar and while killing monsters for gil to stay somewhere that isn’t an alley for the night (WHY DO THE MONSTER BODIES DISAPPEAR Ignis hisses the first time the monster he was inspecting for potential recipe material disappeared into thin air, leaving coins and junk behind), they hear someone else fighting monsters and having Trouble.

-Reacting on their Good Guy instincts, they race around the corner and find a Whopping Freaking Behemoth growling it’s way through a street way too small for it, chasing two someones that Noctis doesn’t really pay attention too in his haste to fling a fireball in the Behemoth’s face to slow it down. The beast slows and Cloud rockets by, his sword a flash of silver light as he hops up the dingy wall and somehow (Nif experimentation strength, adrenaline, and magic) beheads the thing in one massive strike (Gladiolus, watching from the entrance of the street where he’s guarding Ignis, Luna, and the people that Behemoth was chasing, quickly acknowledges his jealousy and lets it go, because Prompto is just Like That).

-Prompto lands on the dead body of the Behemoth and flicks the blood off his blade as he looks around (escaped experiment from the labs he’s betting, and the thought of it makes his blood feel very cold). Noctis nods grimly at him, coming to the same conclusion and reminder.

-Then, from the head of the alley, someone breathes, “That, was ... SO COOL.”

-Prompto, looking over Noctis’s head from his perch, goes dead white. Noctis knows what he’s going to see the moment he turns around but somehow can’t stop himself from looking anyway.

-Bright-faced and energetic, innocent in a way Noctis has never been able to fully pull off, is one SOLDIER Second Class Zack Fair, staring at the two of them with hero worship in his eyes as he dusts himself off and bounds past a startled Gladio to all but vibrate in front of Noctis and Prompto, “How’d you do that? You just- WHOOSH and SHING and it was DEAD. I didn’t think anyone but a SOLDIER First could do that!”

-While Noctis tries to wrap his head around himself (had he really been that hyper? No wonder Angeal called him Puppy), Prompto blinks past Zack (ghost ghost bloody-tired-ghost-rain-blood-steel-you-are-my-living-legacy-) he sees the second person standing there being fussed at by Ignis and almost loses his grip on his Fusion Sword.

-Cadet Cloud Strife is watching Ignis with a touch of hero worship in his own eyes as the older teen expertly applies a potion to the scratches and cuts, never letting on that he’s spotted the eerie similarities between Prompto, Noctis and these two strangers.

-Their attention is dragged back to Zack by his waving arms as he chatters a mile a minute, then rapidly snagged by the sound of approaching footsteps from the far end of the street, the direction the Behemoth had come from.

-Noctis already knows who is running around that corner. His nerve breaks and he BOLTS. Zack yips a protest as Noctis rushes by, Prompto on his heels, trying to escape before HE can come around the corner and see them. Gladio sees the look on his prince’s face and starts herding Iggy and Luna away-.

-Genesis rounds the bend in front of them the exact moment Angeal rounds the corner behind. Both of them having rushed to the scene to try to save their apprentices.

-Noctis can only hear static. It’s ... it’s different from seeing Angeal in his new body, his reborn self. This- this is a ghost of the man he adored and looked up to as a father, this is a perfect memory of the man he was forced to KILL. This is- this is ANGEAL. Noctis cannot deal.

-Ignis ends up doing all the talking on the group’s behalf while Zack makes things ... worse unintentionally by excitedly recounting the story of how Prompto one-shot the Behemoth.

-Genesis confirms it with Cloud.

-Both men, honorable in their own way, insist on paying for a Proper Hotel for the group as thanks, which means taking them above plate. Ignis makes up a story of how they are Hunters (which ... they are technically, just not in this world) and were just visiting the city when they heard the sounds of fighting.

-They get dropped off at the hotel and Noctis and Prompto spend a good hour sobbing in the bathroom over their respective ghosts while Luna hesitantly tries to explain why to Ignis and Gladio without ... SAYING why. After that, the group put their heads together to make a plan, because Noctis and Prompto are SURE that SHINRA will come sniffing around soon.

-By morning, Noctis and Prompto have composed themselves and gotten ... sorta enough sleep.

-Prompto is not surprised how, the moment the clock turns to “reasonable hour of the morning” there is a knock on the door. He is less surprised when he opens it to find a Turk on the other side.

-He promptly shuts the door again.

-He makes a rude gesture at Ignis’s back when the older teen sighs at his bad manners and opens the door to let the devil man in with a murmured apology and vague excuse that Prompto doesn’t handle mornings well. The Turk is Tseng, because of course it is, and he’s come to formally thank them for their assistance the other day in saving the lives of two of their employees (Read: here to investigate how a group of unknown teens showed up out of literal nowhere, how one of them used a fireball spell without seeming to have any materia on his person and how the twig-blond one-shot a Behemoth like a SOLDIER First).

-Ignis and Luna handle all the talking because Noctis is oddly quiet (afraid of being too like Zack), Prompto has gone straight non-verbal, and Gladiolus is a bit busy trying to keep his two friends on a sane keel.

-Tseng notices all of the interplay, but isn’t sure what to make of it. He notices the way the black haired one seems agitated in his presence and how the blond has flickering mako shine in his eyes as he folds in on himself and shuts down at the sight of Tseng’s suit. He notices he way Ignis and Gladio are neutral to him like true strangers would, but the gentle girl named Luna watches him with an old, eerie sort of knowing fondness.

-They are not what they seem, he thinks to himself.

-But what are they?

-Anyway long ficlet made slightly shorter, Tseng talks them into coming to the tower to receive a thank you gift from SHINRA and maybe give a demonstration to some of the cadets while they were at it, as a ... show and tell from an outsider perspective. They don’t have any choice but to agree, and Noctis shakes off his uneasiness to be a more muted version of energetic to help Prompto cope.

-The SOLDIER Firsts and their apprentices are there too, because of course they are, and Noctis slides into his element showing off for the cadets with Gladio’s help while Prompto spaces out at the nearest wall. Angeal comes over to talk to Noctis and thank him and stuff and Zack is already trying to acquire another blond buddy (Prompto slides back into non-verbal blank looks and is ... dimly surprised by Cloud coming to his defense with an innocent, “Take it easy, Zack, he’s shy.” before smiling. Prompto doesn’t remember smiling as Cloud. Not like that. Easy and friendly and innocent.)

-SOMEHOW. Genesis ends up picking a fight with Noctis. Because Genesis. Prompto, eager to burn off some tension, intercedes on Noctis’s behalf and ends up flattening Genesis in three moves.

-...Oops.

-Genesis gets up with a manic look in his eye and Sephiroth is staring like a cat that just spotted a bird. Angeal’s eyebrows are up to his hairline and Zack is “ooo”ing in awe.

-Genesis tries again, Prompto flattens him in five moves this time.

-Ignis steps in before a real fight can happen and politely excuses the group because they have places to be.

-Prompto has never been more grateful for Gentiana’s timing than the moment they step out of Shinra’s office and slide into the crowd. In between one heartbeat and the next, one shifting of the large, busy crowd and another, she arrives and whisks them home.

-The Turks have no idea how they lost the group of teens, but they never find them again.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Breaking the Curse

Chapter 14: Change of Plans

Fucking Mayor Regina Mills.

Everything had been fine! Just fine! Perfectly, beautifully fine! Hell, he'd even gone so far as to say it was damn well fucking dandy!

Yes, Sheriff Graham was dead, but in one visit to his shop, he'd managed to affirm Emma Swan's intent to become the new Sheriff, and he'd given her a tool to share with Henry so that the pair could continue to do their work behind Regina's back. All in all, it should have amounted to a pretty damn good day for him.

But Regina Fucking Mills…sometimes she reminded him why he would have killed her in their world if he hadn't needed her so badly. He'd just cleaned up one of her messes for himself and the entire town, and just as he had, she'd gone and made another one when his back was turned like the child that she was.

It had been the middle of the afternoon, and he'd been feeling good about everything that had happened when Dove had called him, and his stomach dropped in his belly. Dove was a man of few words. It was why he preferred to use text messages for communication. So when Dove actually picked up his phone and called him, it was rarely a good thing.

"This better be good, Mr. Dove.

"Yeah, it is. Emma Swan came to see you this morning?" he questioned.

"Yes, to talk about her taking the Sheriff position."

"That's what I figured. I hate to burst your bubble, but it didn't last long. Regina just fired her."

The words traveled through him like electricity. His body shook and tingled as he considered the words he'd just heard, the words he hoped he hadn't heard. He felt his heart thudding away through his chest as he tried to contain his anger.

"You're sure?"

"I mean…I wasn't inside, but after she met with you, she went back to the police station. Regina showed up. A few minutes later, Emma left the station, clearly angry, with a small box of items in her hands. She practically threw it into the bug before she drove off. But she wasn't wearing any kind of badge, and it's too early for her to be going home. She's a nine to five kind of girl; she doesn't leave early. I stayed long enough to see Regina leave after she did. The pair stared at each other, the Mayor smiled, then locked the police building herself, and that was that. They got in their cars and left. Emma slammed the door hard enough I thought she'd break a window."

"Where is she now?"

"Back at the apartment, hasn't moved, and Mary Margaret isn't home from school yet."

Fucking Regina Mills. He should have known. He should have known that the woman who lost years of her life pursuing Snow White wouldn't just roll over and let Emma Swan take the role that had been held by her lap-wolf. He'd been planning this for fourteen days. Apparently, he hadn't been the only one planning something. What the hell was she playing at.

"So the reason I'm calling is to give you a heads up, boss," Dove continued, interpreting his silence as an invitation to continue to deliver him the bad news. "My friend Will Scarlet just called to inform me that tomorrow morning Regina is supposed to hold a small press conference in her office where she plans to formally appoint Sidney Glass as the new Sheriff."

"Sidney Glass? The editor of the newspaper."

Dove chuckled. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly. The guy doesn't exactly scream 'Sheriff Material.'"

"No, but he is in the Mayor's pockets…"

Not as good as being in her pants as Sheriff Graham had been, but Sidney Glass…he was the genie, the one that Regina had convinced to murder Snow White's father. Everyone in town knew that Glass yearned for Regina. He followed after her like a puppy dog. Making him Sheriff would be laughable to everyone in town, probably even Regina. But the choice made sense for that very reason. If it was true.

"How exactly does Scarlet know this?"

"He says his sources are his own, but trustworthy."

Fuck. He loved the idea of keeping sources private until it had the potential to work against him. But Scarlet had delivered information to Dove before. Whether or not he knew that, he turned around and gave that information to him. So far, the info that he'd given had always been accurate. Which meant that time to fix this new problem was limited. So limited that he considered for one brief, weak moment just letting it go and turning his attention to some other plan or idea. But then that moment passed.

He was angry. He didn't know what Regina was playing at, what her end goal in all this was other than to get rid of Emma Swan and send the town back into its unending sleep, but he knew that his plan was worth fighting for. So he got to work. He did what he had to do in order to solve this problem. He locked the shop up early that afternoon and went home. In his dusty old home office, he found exactly what he needed. One single shelf contained everything he'd "inherited" from his aunt on Storybrooke.

It took him less than an hour to find what he needed. That was no surprise. Regina may have cast the Curse, but it was always his. It figured that would play out in Storybrooke on this level too. Regina might be the Mayor, but no one knew more about Storybrooke than Mr. Gold. And right now, that knowledge was about to pay off. What was Regina playing at? He didn't know, but if this was any indication, then there was no time to waste. He had to make a plan, a good plan, one that was going to take time. Time he'd have, but only if he could accomplish his first step before Regina had that press conference and named Sidney Glass Sheriff. He hated starting his work before he was prepared for the end, but that was just how it had to be.

He'd arrived at the same time Mary Margaret had, home from the market it appeared, although the younger, non-handicapped woman moved faster than him into the apartment. He didn't even think that she saw him. When he arrived at the door, he could hear the two women talking inside, but Emma was the one that answered the door when he knocked. There was what appeared to be a toaster under her arm. It was so broken even he didn't think he could fix it, and that was saying something. Of course, so did the look on her face. Something broken, the loud music he'd heard when he'd pulled up behind Mary Margaret, the look on her face…someone was angry. Very angry indeed. He could use that.

"Good evening, Miss Swan. Sorry for the intrusion. There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Over her shoulder, in the kitchen, Mary Margaret suddenly chirped, "I'll let you two talk," and disappeared into another room. In this small place, their conversation wouldn't be private in the least, but he didn't particularly care. Allies in fights like these were good. And besides, it would save Emma the trouble of regurgitating every single sentence of this conversation later.

"Come on in," she exclaimed, opening the door for him.

"Thank you. I, uh…I heard about what happened. Such an injustice."

"Yeah, well, what's done is done."

He could work with anger. He could work with a willingness to fight. He couldn't work with someone willing to lay down and die. "Spoken like a true fighter."

"I don't know what chance I have. She's Mayor, and I'm…well…me."

"Miss Swan, two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy can accomplish even more. How would you like a benefactor?"

"A benefactor?" she questioned. He smirked. Now, where had he last had a conversation like this? Ah, yes…from a man who knew how to recognize a desperate soul when he saw one. He couldn't hear Zoso now, not since he was human. But he knew enough to know the man was probably just as entertained as he was.

"You mind?" he gestured to the table, and both he and Emma took a seat. He laid the binder out on the table and opened it up, looking for what he knew was there. "You know, it really is quite shocking how few people study the town charter."

"The town charter?"

"Well, it's quite comprehensive. And the Mayor's authority? Well, maybe she's not quite as powerful as she seems. Ah!" he piqued, glancing down at his binder and finding the typewritten passage he'd located earlier. "For example: 'The office of Sheriff of Storybrooke is to be an elected position. When the office of Sheriff is in vacancy, the role of the Sheriff is to be filled by the Deputy after fourteen (14) days. If the Deputy refuses the job or is found to be unqualified, the Mayor of Storybrooke may elect a candidate to run for the office of Sheriff after a period of fourteen (14) days. If the candidate runs without opposition, then the candidate may take office. Should the candidate face opposition, then an election shall be called, and the office will be decided by popular vote of the citizens of Storybrooke, Maine.'"

He smiled as he looked up at Emma, but she only sat there with her arms crossed, looking utterly unimpressed with his work. "Beautiful," she drawled sarcastically. "What's it mean?"

"It means that Regina is allowed to appoint someone to the office of Sheriff, but that individual can only take over if they're running unopposed."

"So…"

"So…technically Regina was out of bounds by firing you. She did it because the chain of succession states that the position should have gone to you. But now that you are fired, there is a way back."

"I'm listening."

"As long as there is someone else who wants the job, then it calls for a town election. The Sheriff will be elected by the citizens of Storybrooke. Not Mayor Mills."

Something in Emma Swan's gaze shifted suddenly. There was a twitch at the corner of her mouth as if she understood suddenly what he was trying to say but was too timid to actually assume it for herself. "So…"

"So, Miss Swan, if there were someone else, a fighter, who wanted the position, fired or not, all they'd have to do to stop Regina would be to declare their intent to run."

Finally, Emma smiled in triumph.

[catsafarithewriter]

“Aww, I always knew you could be a romantic! How are you hide this from me!” I imagine Louise saying this to baron when setting up a date with Haru for the first time or Louise saying this to Persephone on their first date. Either one basically. Also love your The Bureau Series so amazing!!!!😍😍😍👍👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👍👍👍

A/N: Thank you! This went through several variations and AUs, before I settled on just a generic ficlet, inspired by the date scene out of Thor: The Dark World. 

(Human Baron is - as usual - based on @letterstoathens‘ design, because I love floofy Baron! His fashion choices come from the manga, although the polka dot tie turns up in both the manga and WotH.) 

x

There was a strange human standing in the Bureau, and Louise could already tell this flying visit was going to evolve into chaos. 

She could usually handle chaos. Chaos was the natural state of the universe, after all, especially after she had dropped by, but, even so… Her brother carried a certain kind of chaos that was usually compounded by his own tendencies to overthink and then overreact. If he was lucky, in that order. 

As the Bureau doors swung shut behind Louise, the man looked up and she saw bright green - familiar - eyes. 

“Humbert?”

He fumbled with the hideous bow tie he was knotting, and jumped like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Louise?”

Maybe she should have visited before now. 

She marched over to the desk he was standing before, and pointedly looked her brother up and down with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?” she asked. “What is going on?Why are you…” she gestured to him in general, “human?”

Humbert hesitated. “Would you believe me if I said this was a mid-life crisis?”

“We’re immortal, Humbert. We don’t have a mid-life to have a crisis over.” She gave him another sweeping look. “At least, you were immortal…”

 “It’s a temporary shape-shifting spell, Louise. Just enough for a couple of hours, nothing more dramatic than that.”

“Sure, but why do you even need to be human, unless…” She trailed off, and for the first time, looked beyond his immediate humanness. He wasn’t wearing his usual grey suit, instead opting for a sleeker, more understated black suit, offset by a yellow waistcoat and that awful polka dot bow tie. He had forgone fighting with it, and was now attempting to rein in the new challenge of hair - curly, ginger hair that didn’t behave anything like fur, much to his dismay. His movement was precise and curt, but Louise had known her brother long enough to recognise the undercurrent ebb of nerves. “Are you going on a date?” she demanded. 

His hair slipped loose from his grip, and he scowled at her. “How did you even–”

“You are! Oh, this is adorable!”

“Louise–” He cut off as Louise abruptly squeezed his face between her hands. 

“You’re in love?With a human? Tell me all about them!Where did you meet them?What are they like? Do they know you’re a Creation?Why didn’t you tell me about this before–?”

Humbert swiped her away, and consciously tucked back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. “I don’t have time for this–”

“What you don’t have time for is for me to not fix up your appearance. I mean, really, when was the last time you went out socially into the Human World? Never mind, that top hat says it all. You want my advice–”

“No.”

“–lose the top hat. And the cane. It’s not 1885 anymore, so unless you’re meeting this human at a renaissance fair, you need to look like you’ve at least heard of the 21st Century.” 

Humbert watched, visibly nonplussed, as Louise vanished into the back room and started rootling through his wardrobe. 

“So,” she called, “are you going to tell me about this person or not?” She poked her head back out when he didn’t immediately respond. “Oh, don’t sulk. This is exciting! The last time you dated someone, it was called courting and it required a chaperone.” 

Humbert glowered, but relented. “Her name is Haru, and we met on a case.”

Louise’s head appeared at the door again. “A client? You’re dating a client?”

“Ex-client,” Humbert stressed. “And, technically, we’re not dating.”

“But you want to.”

“Would you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

Humbert took a steadying breath, and Louise mentally upped the nervous level she had originally pegged her brother at. “It was… years ago. At least a decade. She rescued a cat who turned out to be the prince of the Cat Kingdom, and had to come to us for help when the Cat Kingdom took it upon themselves to thank her.”

“It doesn’t sound that bad.”

“They kidnapped her and tried to marry her off to the royal family.”

“Oh.”

“Needless to say, we managed to bring those plans to a halt, and only broke one tower in the process–”

“Wait. Wait, Haru? Haru Yoshioka? The human who saved King Lune and Queen Yuki?”

Humbert blinked. “You’re familiar with her?”

“I…” and Louise did her best not to give a telling blush, “may have had some dealings with the Cat Kingdom in my travels. News of King Claudius abdicating in favour of his son was kind of a big thing.”

Humbert considered this. And then, to Louise’s relief, nodded at the sense she was making. “Regardless, we brought her home safe, and we thought that was that…”

“Until?”

“Until recently when we met her again during a case.” His eyes softened at the memory, and it took all of Louise’s self-control not to coo. “I had almost forgotten her, certainly didn’t recognise her until she dropped her name, and even then I couldn’t recall her case immediately.”

Louise snorted. “That bodes well.”

“It was years ago,” Humbert retorted, heat rising to his face. “We’ve had many cases since then, and I had expected her to forget me in kind. Most humans do when they return back to their normal lives. I certainly had not expected to find her exorcising a haunted office!”

“Okay, it’s official; she’s way too cool for you.”

“Yes, well,” Baron continued, not entirely denying her claim, “it seemed the natural course of action to work together - it turns out that after her brush with the supernatural, she can’t unsee it, and so she’s been working as a… I believe the term she used was ‘monster-hunter’ in the years since - and–”

“And you fell in love with her.”

“I wish to get to know her better,” Humbert hotly amended. “I do not know her well enough to claim my feelings to be anywhere in the realm of love, but–”

“Yes, yes, yes, but that doesn’t explain all this,” and Louise motioned to his human form once again. “If she knows you’re a Creation, why not just invite her to another world and have tea there? Why go to all this…” and she gestured to his hair, “trouble?”

“She doesn’t know I’m a Creation.”

“But you said–”

“The case required a human form, and so I took on this disguise.” He had the decency to look very sheepish. “When I met Haru, I didn’t recognise her and so I gave her my cover story.”

“And now you have a date with her and you’re too embarrassed to tell her the truth.”

“I will tell her the truth,” Humbert retorted. “It’s just…” And he mumbled something.

“What was that?” Louise asked.

“It’s just, she still remembers our first encounter.” 

“And?”

He mumbled again. 

“Humbert, really, speak up. You were created eloquently, don’t pretend otherwise. What happened on your first meeting?”

“She confessed she had… feelings for me. A schoolgirl’s crush.”

“So you turned her down.”

“Obviously.” 

“And now she’s a monster-hunter, ass-kicking badass, and completely out of your league–”

“Thanks, Louise.”

“–you’ve ironically developed a crush on her.”

“I told you that I merely wish to get to know her better…” He hesitated and then, after a dubious pause, added, “The issue lies in that I do not wish to… worry her with reminding her of our last conversation.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I imagine she has long since outgrown that schoolgirl crush, so there’s no need to remind her of it.” 

“Hm,” Louise responded noncommittally. “Yeah, okay, but before you head off to sweep this Haru off her feet, you’re going to need to swap that bow tie.”

“What’s wrong with my tie–”

“Have you looked in the mirror?”

“It’s fine–”

“It has polka dots,” Louise retorted. She threw a plain blue tie at him. “Wear that instead.”

“Louise–”

“I mean, if we had the time, I’d suggest maybe something a little less formal for a first date, but I’ll settle with the removal of that abomination. Where are you meeting anyway? A restaurant? Movie? Wait, I’ve got it - are you going on a joint case together? You know, they say situations of dire peril are meant to bring people closer.” She cooed, “Aww, I always knew you could be a romantic! How dare you hide this from me!”

Humbert raised an eyebrow, but did exchange bow ties. “We’re just meeting at a cafe.” And then, when he saw Louise’s gleeful expression dissolve into disappointment, added, “Ordinary, human date, remember?” He finished tying his bow tie with a flourish. “Tonight, it’s just two humans having a perfectly ordinary afternoon.”

x

Louise had got a point, Baron couldn’t help but think as he watched Haru absorb herself in the menu. He hadn’t really spent that much time out in the Human World, and he certainly couldn’t consider himself an expert in the realm of modern dating. Not even a little bit. 

Still. He was fairly certain that it didn’t take this long to choose a cake. 

He should say something. Start a conversation. Get to know her, as he had told Louise. But the manners that his artisan had built into him rebelled against the idea of interrupting someone when they were deep in thought - and Haru was deep in thought, regardless of whether the menu was the cause or not - and so he found his tongue tied. 

He wrote ‘hello’ on a napkin and slid it onto Haru’s side of the table. 

He felt her gaze guiltily move from the menu and onto him. 

“Hello,” he greeted cheerfully. He offered a reassuring smile across the cafe table.

Haru sheepishly returned it. “Hi.”

Throwing all caution to the wind, he jumped in. “So what’s the story with you?” 

“Story?” She laughed and shrugged quickly. “Why does there have to be a story? There’s no story.” 

“You’ve spent the first ten minutes of our date hiding behind a menu that has three cake choices,”  he told her gently. “It’s either brownie, lemon drizzle cake, or carrot cake.” He grinned. “And you’re a self-described monster-hunter. Now, I think there’s a story, and given how you are suddenly indecisive over cake, when you were perfectly capable of facing down an oni two days back, I think this has less to do with the food choices, and more to do with the date situation.” 

She stared at him for a long moment, and he abruptly wondered whether he had already messed this date up. Then she laughed and batted a hand before her face to hide the already-rising blush. “Okay, you got me. Darn it, and I thought I was being so subtle.”

“So there is a story?”

“There’s a guy,” she said. “Past tense,” she was quick to add. “A guy that I knew… years ago, who I had the biggest crush on.” She reddened. “He, uh, made it quite clear that it was a one-way thing though, and we lost touch with one another after that. But, um…” and here, she deliberately avoided Baron’s gaze, “you… kind of remind me of him?”

She waited for him to say something, evidently mortified by her own admission. 

Baron had to resist the urge to laugh. 

“I remind you of an old crush?” he asked instead.

“Just a… just a little bit. You know,” and she motioned weakly to his face, “the eyes, your accent, the outfit…”

“Was he also English?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I mean… I guess? The accent was, anyway.”

“Then that explains it. In England, you’re only allowed to wear such dapper suits if you have the accent to match.”

She laughed then. The anxiety drained from her, and the blush adorning her cheeks went from embarrassment to amusement. She leant in with a conspiring glint. “What if you’re caught faking the accent?”

“That’s what the Tower of London is for.” 

She laughed again, and Baron found himself beginning to relax. This really wasn’t so difficult. Maybe he needn’t have worried after all. Yes. This was all under control. He could do this. 

A shadow appeared over them, and his brain kicked onto automatic. “Sorry, we haven’t made a choice yet, but if you could bring over a jug of water, that would be grand.” 

“Water? On a date? How exciting.” 

Baron looked up and saw that the shadow was not that of a waiter, but of a young woman, short, with her brown hair cut into a neat bob. Definitely not staff. 

Haru sighed. “Sorry, this is Hiromi, my future ex-friend. Hiromi, this is my date, who I told you about.” Haru shot a meaningful look at the newcomer, who completely sidestepped it. 

“Sweet. He’s cute.”

“Hiromi.”

“Anyway, I’m just dropping by,” Hiromi continued. She grabbed a nearby chair and hauled it over. “Are you going to eat those biscuits? No? Cool.”

“Hiromi, what are you doing here?”

Haru’s friend set to picking out the on-the-house biscuits, snapping them in half and nibbling along the edges. “Okay, so, I drop by your house, fully expecting you to be cleaning off the goo off whatever monster-of-the-week you stopped this time, but you’re not. You’re wearing lady clothes and jewellery, and you’ve actually showered with proper scented shower gel, not that nasty goo-be-gone gel that gets out bloodstains–” 

“Is there a point to all this,” Haru asked desperately, “because there really needs to be a point to all this.”

“Right, okay.” Hiromi finished her biscuit and brushed the crumbs off the table. “Well, then I remembered that you said you were meeting up with that dude you met when stopping the office oni–”

Baron had to resist the urge to remind her that he was right there.

“–which is just as well, because you remember that programme you made to alert you if there were any sudden blips of that weird strong toy magic?” Hiromi thrust a phone across at Haru. “Well, you might want to take a look.” 

“It’s not toy magic,” Haru could be heard to mumble, but her fingers twitched as she read the screen’s data. She looked sharply - hopefully - up at Hiromi, and then her gaze slid guiltily back to Baron. The shrug she gave aimed for nonchalance and missed. “I’m sure it’s just… a blip. Make a note of the location, and I’ll check it out later. It’s probably nothing.” 

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Hiromi said. “It kinda looks like the readings you went cuckoo over last winter. You know, with the talking tin soldier?”

Baron suddenly recalled hearing about a fellow Creation - a toy soldier - in the next town over, and suspicions began to crawl into his bones over the exact nature of Haru’s search. He flexed his human hands and wondered whether the transformation magic might have triggered the blip. 

“Oh yeah,” Hiromi said to Baron, “Haru told me that you know all about the magic and monsters and everything. All supernatural creatures give off a distinct type of magic signature, and Haru has this interest in these living toys–”

“They’re Creations,” Haru amended, “and he’s really not interested–”

“I’m interested,” Baron said. 

“–and I’m not interested,” Haru continued. “Time for you to go now.” 

Hiromi paused, and glanced between the two of them. She raised an eyebrow and rose back to her feet. “O-kay. Well, enjoy the date!”

There was a long, dubious pause in the silence that followed. 

“She seems… nice,” Baron eventually ventured. 

“She needs manners,” Haru said. “I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t be. Actually, she reminds me a lot of my sister. All energy and good intentions wrapped up in a chaotic bundle.” 

Haru snorted and flipped open the menu again. “That’s Hiromi, all right.”

Baron smiled and followed suit. He glanced over the options, as if he hadn’t chosen a good fifteen minutes ago.When an acceptable minute had passed, he said, “I think I’m going to go with the carrot cake.”

“Carrot cake,” Haru echoed. “Yeah, carrot cake sounds good.” Baron watched her as her eyes glazed over the page. “Carrot cake. Carrot cake, carrot cake, carrot cake…” The words continued to trip over her tongue, barely conscious of the shape of them. “Carrot cake…”

Baron smiled and folded his menu. “Haru?”

“Hm?”

“Maybe you should stop saying ‘carrot cake’ and go after your friend.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t just leave–”

“It’s fine. I can just stay here and say carrot cake alone.”  He offered her a good-natured smile. “Go on. It’s obviously important to you.”

Haru’s guilty expression sank into relief. “Thank you.” She had already half-risen to her feet before she visibly remembered her manners. She spun back to him. “This has been… so much fun, we should… definitely do this again.” She grinned apologetically and ran off after Hiromi. 

Baron waited until they were out of sight before jumping to his feet and shooting in the opposite direction. He tripped over a trash bag obscuring the alleyway, his gaze so intent on the skies. “Toto? Toto!”

Toto landed on a bin skip, appraising Baron’s ruffled appearance with a critical eye. “That date was short.”

“Haru is… Haru is… she’s…” He motioned for Toto to wait for him to regain his breath and senses. He broke out into a grin. “She’s looking for me.”

“Looking for you?”

“She’s following spikes of Creation magic, and she’s picked up the shape-shifting spell I used to become human, and...” He trailed off as his train of logic hit a brick wall. 

Toto, as usual, filled in the dots as quickly - or if not quicker - than Baron. “The spell which you used halfway across the city,” he said, “while you are here. Human.” 

“Yes.”

Toto sighed. “I’ll find her and stall her until you can get back.” Toto gave an amused grin. “Hopefully the human disguise will have worn off before then, otherwise you’re going to have a lot of questions to answer before you even start.”

Baron grinned back. “I’ll improvise.”

“Oh good.”

[voemae582]

The Truth Changes

Chapter 4: Is Blue Warm or Cold?

Let it be known, I wrote this chapter before I watched reflectdoll and Desperado. And I'm so angry with how Marinette and Adrien acted, but most importantly the writers... Enjoy. Also I post the story on my Fanfiction.net page under Voemae Patterson and on Wattpad under Tia_Patterson!

Meanwhile Chat Noir made his way across town and hid in an alley way to transform back. Plagg flew out of his ring in a panic.

"Plagg calm down, we need think of a plan, maybe she was bluffing and Ladybug is fine."

Plagg shook his head, "Kid this is serious, I can honestly tell you, she was telling the truth. We need to find Master. I have a feeling Tikki's with him, which is good."

"Tikki?" Adrien asked.

"No time to explain, lets go!" Plagg flew in the direction of Master Fu's massage place with Adrien close behind him.

They took back streets and alleys to avoid any Marionettes in the area. It didn't take long before they finally reached their destination and took cover inside where they were greeting by Wayzz. They entered the massage room to find Master Fu and Tikki talking. Adrien saw the polka doted Kwami and put two and two together. It was Ladybugs Kwami. 

"Tikki!" Plagg shouted and he wasted no time flying to her side. "What happened?"

Master Fu put his attention to Adrien who was still confused. Where was Ladybug? Why didn't she have her kwami? "Adrien, come and sit."

"Master Fu, Marinette, she's the girl akumatized. She's my friend."

He nodded. "Yes, well without Ladybug we're in quite the predicament."

Adrien clenched her fists and grit his teeth, "Please entrust me with saving them both."

"Everyone whos fought alongside you has been turned into a puppet." He stroked his little beard and turned his head away from Adrien and whispered, "She must've done that on purpose."

"What?"

"It's nothing." He waved his hand to signal there was nothing to worry about.

Tikki, Plagg and Wayzz sat at the middle of the table. "Oh Master, it's not her fault! We must save her from being a puppet." Tikki chose her words carefully as to not reveal Marinette was Ladybug.

"I understand the situation. Ladybug knew she would be caught, and purposely took out her earrings to prevent Hawkmoth from finding her using the connection between the akumatized." He pondered for a moment and the room fell silent with thinking. "But," He broke the silence. "I can not ignore the fact that she did fall into this situation."

"Master?" Wayzz questioned.

"Don't worry, I chose her for a reason, that being said I have to wonder what she'll do. Or if she can snap out of it."

"I know she will." Adrien stood up. "Because she's Ladybug." They all looked up at him as he radiated the confidence he lacked a moment ago. "I'll focus on snapping Marinette out of it, try and find the item that's been akumatized then free her. But, Chat Noir can't catch the akuma, or fix what's been destroyed. Master Fu, please let me use the Ladybug miraculous."

Fu stood and turned to get more tea, "Absolutely not. It's far too risky."

"But-!"

"But this may be our only sound option right now. As for the cat miraculous, you cant use both at the same time. And I don't feel good having both miraculous near each other while you're fighting. I suppose I could also-" Just then a crack echoed in the room. His age was catching up to him and he cracked his back... As always Wayzz was worried for the master and helped him sit back down with the tea. "We almost lost the Bee miraculous once, we can't afford making these same mistakes." He shook his head, he knew he wouldn't be much help, but he couldn't do it alone. "We need to move location, she might come here."

"Why would she come here?" Adrien asked. The Kwami's looked at Fu to make an excuse.

Fu cleared his throat. "Your friend Marinette, yes, um she, she's been in my shop before, to get a muscle relaxer!" Not his best moment but he was going to roll with it. "You know how kids are these days, stressed about school and such. So I gave her an old Chinese remedy to help her out... Of course she still seems a bit clumsy..."

Adrien chuckled at the last comment. "No, that's just her."

Fu saw his sincere smile as he thought about her. "I see.." He smiled. "Well, lets move location of the box carefully first, then get a plan started."

"I've got an idea." And so it was decided where the box would be moved to...

Half an hour later after mast Fu settled Adrien transformed back into Chat Noir. "Until we figure this out, I'll go and patrol the surrounding area. I need to help those who have not been caught."

"What ever you do, don't go looking for her." He warned him.

"Which one?" He joked before leaving the building.

Master Fu saw as his Chat Noir figure jumped over a building. "The only one."

"Oh master... What should we do?" Tikki hovered next to him looking out the window.

"Where there's a will, there's a way." he sighed. "For all our sakes, we can only wait and see if she has a stronger will then the darkness in her heart."

About twenty minutes past and Chat Noir saved a few hand fills of civilians and hid them from the akuma. He made sure to stay low and out of sight trying not to cause a scene. All the while he was trying to think of a plan. He was alone, without his Lady. He was worried, but he didn't know for who more. Marinette or Ladybug?

It was already night and the stars were bright. a lot of the city lights were off because there were people hiding. For the most part if Porcelain had no need for them, the marionettes had free will to go home or do anything they wanted as long as the didn't rebel they could live a normal life as a porcelain doll. Until she needed them that is, and took control of their body's again. The brightest lights were the Eiffel tower, which is where Chat Noir assumed Marinette was based. The day had been the longest time anyone has ever been under an akuma's affects and trance before. 

No one knew what was supposed to happen next. Where was Ladybug, the hero of Paris? The Parisians began to worry. Every time that day Chat was asked where she was or heard a rumor of her disappearance he quickly retorted it stating she was well and they were just thinking of a plan.

He returned to his mansion per master Fu's request for the night. Adrien wanted eagerly to go and try talking to Marinette but was stopped every time by Plagg. He agonized over the thought of pain and suffering she was feeling, alone. Plus he was scared sooner or later Ladybug would break, not that she would ever lie.

Checking on his father was impossible since the Gorilla stood outside his bedroom room and Natalie probably wouldn't let him into the office. Little did he know his father was better then okay. Because he had finally found a suitable victim to capture all the miraculous.

In his lair Hawkmoth reveled in the army before him. "Your progress is taking much longer then I expected, but you told the truth, Ladybug hasn't shown her face yet. Meaning you did capture her, and Chat Noir's the only one left. He is the only one left, right?"

Far from the Agreste Manor, sitting at the very top of the Eiffel tower looking at the night sky above her was Porcelain. "Yes, I assume he'll be no trouble. And before you ask again, I do not know where to find the guardian of the box." She technically wasn't lying, she didn't know where master Fu could be, its not 100% certain he'll be at his home. She knew how to manipulate her powers so she wouldn't crack.

Suddenly she felt a pain and all her muscles stiffened making her feel weak. "If you're lying to me I will take away your victory!" Hawkmoth threatened her.

"Why- argh!" She struggled to talk with the pressure he forced on her. "-would I-ugh, why would I lie to you!?" He finally released her letting her gasp for air.

"If I find out you were lying to me or are plotting something, not only will I take everything away from you, but I'll get a professional to do it instead." He chuckled. "You might know her. She tends to fib a bit."

If Porcelain wasn't wearing a mask you'd see the anger in her eyes and her teeth ready to break from clenching them to hold her tongue. "Lila." She hissed through her teeth.

"Correct. Instead of getting your revenge on her I'll replace you with her. So don't forget your end of the deal."

Marinette felt a stab in her heart. Even Hawkmoth preferred Lila. Why was she not good enough? "Why would you trust a liar like her?"

"Of course I don't trust her you fool, but she'll do her job. And who knows, after she does get me what I want perhaps she'll become even more adored with her lies then you'll ever be with the truth."

"Forget you! I'll get you what I promised by using my powers for their own good!" She stood up and yelled at the sky. "I can't concentrate with you nagging in my ear!"

"I'll check back later." Back in the lair Hawkmoth cut the communication with Porcelain. "Dark wings fall!" And turned back into his formal attire as Gabriel Agreste. "Natalie, I may need your assistance tomorrow." He turned around to face Natalie who held a clipboard to her chest never showing more then a poker face.

"Of course. I would be happy to, sir."

"Right, go get some rest, it'll take a toll on you tomorrow."

She shook her head. "I'm fine, I've had all nighters before doing work, but you should get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow. I'll watch over things for the night."

Back at the tower Porcelain looked over the Paris buildings to a small shop with it's lights still on. It was her parent's bakery. They were still up so late. She had the urge to go and visit them, but something stopped her. She was ashamed. 

"Damn it." She held her head in her hands and cursed at the world. It all seemed so unfair.

Last month she was adored by her friends and she adored them. Marinette was hanging out with everyone, and sure, once in awhile Lila would tell a lie, but she learned to ignore it. Over time she just left Lila alone and avoided her as long as it didn't affect anyone, but now, how did she end up like this. Her mind got foggy and her memories blurred together. She could only remember the bad parts.

Porcelain had forgotten the good inside of Marinette, and it scared her, not because she couldn't remember anything good, but because she didn't actually care. She couldn't even remember how her morning started. It had only been hours ago but she couldn't think of her parent's and their kind words. What she did remember was Lila. The lies. Alya ditching her in her time of need. Adrien's rejection. Her parent's pitying her. Ladybug.

Oh lord Ladybug. It was always Ladybug. Even Chat Noir prefers Ladybug. Adrien would probably prefer Ladybug. Alya would prefer Ladybug. Her parent's would be better off with a daughter like Ladybug.

Porcelain stopped gripping her skull with anger and let her arm frail onto her knee. She was Ladybug. But Ladybug wasn't her. No, she used to be Marinette. And Marinette is no Ladybug. Marinette's clumsy, a coward and a complete mess. Over a boy. A boy who didn't even like her. Or notice her. She was just a friend. She was a nobody. A wanna be fashion designer.

Marinette was always good at over thinking things, but Porcelain was the queen of over thinking.

A tear appeared from the dark hole of the mask where the eye should be and rolled down the porcelain surface. All her terrible negative feelings came crawling into her heart. Her chest hurt, it felt like something was pulling at her heart strings until they snapped. A punch in the gut. Her head ached and felt like it was on fire and going to explode. Water leaked from her eyes. She shook all over and couldn't breath. She was panicking. She hated this feeling of helplessness. This feeling of depression and anxiety. Eating at every nerve and cell in her body, until she snapped.

And she screamed.

A burst of red deflected from her like a ring of fire around her and widened until it disappeared into the night. She hunched and tried to calm herself. At this moment she knew she messed up. Hawkmoth had increased her emotions of betrayal before he went to bed leaving her to wallow in self loathing. She had no choice but to blame others.

Time had passed and she was walking around on the tower trying to control her emotions and also devising her plan while sewing a scarf together using the red thread she possessed. She had puppets guarding the castle.

"M'Lady." a Marionette approached her.

"Speak, but do not call me that." She ordered him still continuing to make the scarf.

"Several Marionettes whom are not under your control at the moment have asked for an audience with the great poupée de porcelaine."

"Very well."

A few moments later Nino, Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Ivan and even Luka appeared before her. They stood in front of her and She could tell by their faces what they wanted to say. This small group was made up of Kitty Section. The band Marinette designed for. Her closes friends other then Alya.

Nino was outwardly distraught making him the first to burst out his feelings. "How could you do that to Alya!"

Rose and Juleka stood on both sides of him and held his arms as if he would try to attack Porcelain. "This isn't what we practiced" Rose tried to calm him down.

Apparently practicing and deciding what they would tell her ahead of time was the plan to convince her to stop. Little did they know, the longer Marinette was under the Akuma's control the more she lost herself. It had already been too long for logic and reason to save her.

Ivan stepped forward and started first. "Marinette, we're sorry. All of us. We knew you didn't like Lila for some reason but we didn't take your feelings into consideration and hung out with her."

Porcelain's eye twitched in annoyance. "You think this is because I didn't want you guys to hangout with someone I don't like?"  She cracked her neck and continued. "True I despise Lila, and I didn't want anyone to hangout with her, but that's because she's a liar, and constantly tortures me, not because I just don't like her! Marinette wasn't so shallow she'd try to monopolize you guys!" She took the wooden controls from her side pockets and the thread connected to Nino and pulled him in front of her.

"Nino!"

Nino could still talk and looked her in the eyes. "I thought we were friends?"

Knowing Hawkmoth went to bed Porcelain got close to his ear so no one would hear her, and she whispered in Nino's ear, "Are you secretly Carapace?"

"H-how did you-?"

She asked more loudly so everyone could hear, "Are you? Answer the question!"

"N-No!" He gulped.

"Perfect." Porcelain watched his arm start cracking until it just shattered revealing a wooden surface. She let him go giving him free will.

Nino stepped backward away from her and tripped falling on his back. "AAARUGH!!" He yelled in pain. It felt like every bone in his body shattering even though it was just his arm. The pain continued for what seemed forever. He finally bit his tongue on the pain and sat up gripping his wooden left arm.

He had control of his body except for his left arm that was now wood. "What's happening!? I only told one lie! I shouldn't have shattered anything! It should just be a crack, right!?" He yelled at her confused and scared. The others ran to aid him.

"So you admit you lied to me." She started to walk in a circle around them and their eyes followed her every move.

"What's going on with his arm!?" Mylene spoke up.

She sighed, "True, a lie would usually only give you a crack, but, the bigger the lie, the more severe the injury." She winked. "Don't you wanna know what I asked him?" 

Luka stood up, "Marinette, this isn't you."

Again telling her who she was. People just couldn't take a hint. "My names Not Marinette!" She yelled and took control of them making them stand in a line. "It's poupée en porcelaine! Now leave before I decide to shatter you all." She demanded more then requested. With a point of the finger she forced them to walk out. 

"Wait!" Luka pleaded as his legs led him to the elevator. "Marinette! Please, wait, I just want to talk!"

She froze them for a second. The were in mid stepping pose facing the opposite direction of her. Staring at his back she asked, "If you stay here you'll be broken one way or the other. Are you willing To risk the damage?"

Juleka tried to look at her brother, "Luka, don't."

Luka had a soft smile on his face. "Sorry Jules, you'd do the same for Rose."

"Touching..." Porcelain mocked. "Your answer?"

"Yes. I'm okay with that." He spoke louder.

Porcelain walked up to him and examined him for any crack. He was telling the truth. She snapped her fingers and the rest of them walked to the elevator and left. She took away their speech temporarily so they wouldn't interfere until they left.

For the next minute they stood in silence just looking at each other. She wondered what he was looking at her for, what was he trying to find. She focused on his eyes. They were a clear blue, not like hers, his were deeper. Clear with no clutter. Why were his blue eyes so... Warm?

"Cold." He muttered.

Porcelain snapped out of her thoughts, "What?"

"I finally caught a glimpse of you're eyes behind the mask, when the light hits you just right, and they were cold."

She covered the eye he was focused on and turned her face slightly to hide her other. "Blue is cold."

He realized how rude that might've sounded. "No sorry." He scratched the back of his head and looked at the ground. "It's just that, your eyes are usually so warm."

For a second she thought he read her mind. Her eye brows furrowed and she made him stand up straight and look at her. "What nonsense are you spouting? Everyone knows blue is a cold, cold color."

He stood quietly and let her make her point. Studying her actions and moves. Trying to find an ounce of Marinette. He focused on her every detail. Her perfectly place hair in a bun with a red ribbon. The intricate detail on her dress. The carefully placed paint strokes on her mask and especially the way you can see her expression through her eyes.

"Do you ever dislike being in a band with your little sister, and her friends?"

Luka was caught off guard by the question. "What? No, of course not. I love my sister and her friends are mine too." No cracks, he was telling the truth.

"Really? You never feel childish being around them?"

"No they're awesome." He smiled knowing he had nothing to hide.

Porcelain grunted. "Do you even have friends outside of them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I see them all the time."

"Ever wish you lived in a house like normal people?"

"I love living in a boat."

The two of them went back and fourth for quite a while. Porcelain started to run out of questions. She asked petty things like fights with Juleka, or stealing candy when he was young. Despite his looks he wasn't really a 'bad boy'. He was sweet and kind and honest. She hated it.

"There's got to be something you don't want to admit to! So admit it!" She was getting frustrated. "There's got to be something you lie about. And I'm going to find out."

He went silent and thought about something. Porcelain noticed he was hiding something. She was about to confront him with more questions, but he beat her to the punch. "I never want to lie to the girl I like."

She taken  aback. "What? Who?"

"Marinette." He said confidently.

"You're a liar, no one likes a nobody." She wasn't convinced.

"I do." He breathed. "Because to me, she's not a nobody. She's-"

"Like an everyday Ladybug, nice, good, perfect and all that crap!" She turned around as to not face him.

"No." He replied. "Ladybug isn't perfect. I don't know her personally so I can't say much about her personality. But no ones perfect or good at everything. Especially Marinette."

She felt a tug at her heart and the corners of her lips weigh down.

"Marinette isn't perfect, she's clumsy, and stammers, and sometimes it's like she's always in her head."

"You've made your point-"

"But I love that about her. She might fall a lot, but that only means I get to catch her. Her stammering is the cutest thing I've ever heard. And to be able to look at her when she's lost in thought is the greatest privilege I can have." He smiled and you could hear the passion of his words. "She has all the qualities of a super hero, but that's just one part of her, she's also an amazing girl."

"Stop it." She gripped both her upper arms.

"Her designs are incredible! She works hard and deserve every good thing in her life. She apologizes even if she's not in the wrong. And she's honest to a fault, that makes her unique because now a days there's nobody that honest. She tries to help those in need. She messes up, but she she'll try again until everything's fixed."

"I said enough!" She turned around waved her hand violently and took his speech away. She stomped in front of him only three inches from his face. "These are all lies!" She aimed her sight down and he mouthed something to her. 'I love you'. 

She backed up and held her fists at her side. "Why aren't you breaking!?" She shouted almost pleading. For some reason she was running away from love. Perhaps she didn't deserve it. "Lie!" Her voice got shaky and she got close to him and he mouthed it again. she hit his chest with her palms and her forehead landed on his chest. "Lies! All of them!" While one hand hit him repeatedly, the other slowly reached for her mask and slid it off letting her take a deep shaky breath.

Without knowing she had let control of him go and felt his arms wrap around her. "I love you, Marinette." And she let his chin rest on her head. "You're the song playing in my head, and the rhythm my heart beats too." There they stood on the Eiffel tower, embraced in each others cold china hold, with the warmest blue eyes.

"No.." A whisper was barely heard.

"Did you-" Luka started say before being pushed away.

He caught a glance at her face without the mask, her sapphire eyes glossed over with denial, and there was a notable break under her left eye.

"Marinette wha-?"

"My. Names. Not. Marinette!" With a wave of her hand she made him leave, immediately. As soon as she could no longer see him she fell to her knees and hung her head. "Damn it..." The lights of the Eiffel tower then turned off as if on que.

The next day was sure to be chaotic.

[prorevenge]

Boy meets girl

I often pressed V for information on how she earned income but she would give conflicting answers about grants and scholarships until one day.... About 6 months after our first meeting, she finally tells me and IT. IS. NOT. GOOD. I was interviewing at a professional school when I receive the call, she's in trouble, BIG TROUBLE, and needs my help. She tells me she earns money by doing others' assignments for them. $200 to write a paper and $800 to complete an online class, usually a 100 level introductory course. She describes the method she uses to circumvent the ITs detection of others completing others assignment and how her client wasn't doing his part to copy/paste and submit from his own computer. He is failing the course and blames her. He threatens to turn her in. Her plan is to refund his money and wants me to 'follow him to see if he goes somewhere alone and take his phone' because that has all the evidence of their communications. HOLY SHIT! SHE WANTS ME TO COMMIT STRONG ARMED ROBBERY, a FELONY for her! I'm not going down for this or with her and I know nobody would believe me. ENTER: military experience - if there's no record, it didn't happen. So, I agree to help her, somehow, as soon as I return to town. I go to V's dorm the next night and she shows me EVERYTHING. Her list of clients, their blackboard passwords, how she meets them, how she defends them during honor code violations, etc. So I tell her not to worry, I'll handle everything on the day she refunds his money. Relieved, she goes to bed but before she lays down I ask to use her computer for on assignment and she says "sure do whatever you want". In my state, if you let someone use your electronics, its called "having privilege" and anything you do with their computer which may harm them is legal as if it your own computer. So, I took screenshots of her conversations with her clients, I open google settings and screenshot all the blackboard users and passwords stored on her computer. I go to her messenger and screenshot their conversations. Back home, I compiled our recordings and saved our facebook conversations. A week later, I made up an argument about an upcoming New Years Party and broke up with her. Then sat on the information I had on hand for 2 more weeks thinking about what I should do.

I remembered how she has a history of arrests from high school to freshman year for stealing from outlet malls and selling their loot online. Never formally charged. She, of course, omitted this from her application into professional school. How she admitted "finding a mark" and using them to pass her courses. How she denigrated others who were completing courses through hard work. How she used her position as honor council to get her friends out of trouble while helping to expel others for doing exactly what she was doing. How she cheated on me multiple times, used me, manipulated me, tried to make me commit a felony and ruin my life. SHE HAD TO BE STOPPED.

Knowing she was friends with the faculty on the honor council, they often bought each other gifts, I had to go above their heads. I gave names and descriptions of the events to my program director. He then goes to the honor council, anyway. I was called into the honor council's head office of "Corrupt Administrator" CA. CA tells me I should delete the information I have because it could become a civil matter and I should consider my "self preservation." She schedules another meeting with me a week later. I return and she asks if I want to make a statement about V. Guess what I said, I tell her "no, I deleted everything and I don't remember" because I was in the military and I know how to 'play ball' when superiors tell you to shut your mouth. But the most important reason I decided to not file against V directly was due to the fact I was applying for a military scholarship to pay for professional school. Since I did not follow through, the program director filed an honor code violation complaint against V on a date [suggested by CA]. A month later they tell me their investigation was inconclusive and they will close the case due to the director waiting 1 day too long to file according to the school's academic policy. CA set us up! However, since the director used my name as a source, they must notify V because students have rights to know their accusers. FUCK.MY.LIFE. CA fucked me and ruined any chance for a case against V based on a technicality. Now I fear for my safety because V tried to get me to strong arm rob someone now I just implicated a dozen cheaters who have as much as her to lose. CA schedules a meeting with V and tell her about an ongoing investigation and tells her she will be kept up-to-date. I know the investigation is over and now they are just doing formalities. V requests the information of the investigation and they promise to email it to her. V calls me for support even though we aren't together. She is crying and talking about killing herself. She tells me her dad had been paying for her college this whole time and starts coming clean with other lies. I feel bad and almost regret everything. Maybe she is not a sociopath, maybe she is really sorry. She stays at my house the next few days, I'm watching her trying to keep it together. THEN HER FUCKING CLIENTS START COMING TO MY HOUSE. She is still doing their assignments! She NEVER LEARNS!

Finally she gets the investigation info and there's my name. She calls me 130 times in 3 days, sends her friends to my classes to tell me to come to her house, finally I do. But I don't go into her room because she will trap me. She takes my phone so I can't record. She tries to get me to sign a paper saying I fabricated everything and its all false. I tell V, "They already closed the investigation, you wont get in any trouble why should I implicate myself and get in trouble? It wont solve anything!" And she pleads, "Do you still love me?" I shake my head and walk out. Two days later, police are waiting at my house to serve a 72 hour emergency protective order (EPO) commanding me to stay away from V. I know what she is up to. She is trying to get me to violate the protective order, discredit me, and send me to jail. Its very easy to lie to create one and lie to say it was violated.

NOW ITS NOT JUST REVENGE TIME, ITS WAR

Here's the plot twist: I never really deleted the files as I told CA. TYVM, Google drive.

After the 72 hours EPO expired, another EPO arrives which lasts two years but requires a court appearance. This is a huge problem because I am in the US Army reserves and it requires the handling of firearms which is illegal under an EPO. Her lawyer calls me and threatens me not to "participate in anymore investigations against her" and sends a paper tiger. I get a lawyer, lets name him "Folds like a lawn chair". He tells me "who will they believe: a pretty girl or you?" I fire him. Get a better lawyer, a trial lawyer, called "Miss Badass Esq." and prepare for war. Miss Badass requests a copy of V's EPO from the court. It essentially says I was blackmailing her, threatening to beat her up, and I broke into her room to steal incriminating information against her. All lies. I provide my lawyer the entire history of our relationship: 600 pages of facebook and text messages showing she is the aggressor, the abuser, in the relationship, phone call history, all the recordings and screenshots of her cheating ring. I make a poster sized chart of her room and the events that transpire there the day in question when she tried to trap me into signing a statement taking responsibility for her actions.

Courtdate: We made V and her lawyer look REALLY stupid. They were going with the 'pretty girl' strategy. But the dorm gave us records showing she was signing me in and out of her room, so it discredits the need to break in. The call logs: 130 times in 3 days and aggressive texts showed she wasn't actually afraid of me adn it was her, not me, being aggressive. And when he asked what I had to use to blackmail her, her lawyer said "just some tutoring papers" for which the judge said, "that doesn't sound like anything wrong. What power did that give him over you?" They had no response. My turn to speak, I explain how she tried to get me to rob a guy, how she wanted me to write a letter to take the blame, how she used her position as honor council chair to break state law and violate academic policy. And summarized we were only there because she wanted revenge on me. I watched V and her lawyer stutter and squirm uncomfortably under the judges questioning, case dismissed.

All that information I gathered to defend myself was not going to go to waste. I took it to a newly hired honor council investigator called "Meg" who had no affiliation with V. I told her what CA had done to defend V. A week later, I was told the by Meg there had been a meeting with the school police, the provost, their legal team, then the provost himself decided filed a complaint against V. I had to meet with the police to file a statement about V trying to recruit me to rob someone but other than that I was out of the loop. I later learned the results: V lost her her slot at that school's professional program, her program director yelled at her at the top of his lungs, "YOU WILL NEVER GO TO ********* SCHOOL, I KNOW ADMISSIONS AND I WILL SEE TO IT", she got expelled, her TWO degrees (biomedical engineering and biology with a minor in chemistry) were withheld for 6 years and her transcripts would carry a permanent mention of an honor code violation, her clients who graduated had their degrees retracted with similar mentions on their transcripts, and current clients were also expelled. The school changed its policy on reporting date requirements to like 60 or 90 days. Me? I am in professional school. V had her chance to get away with all of this until she tried to get revenge on me. I reduced this super villain from owning a fleet of beta male minions, being the most connected person in the university, and having a lucrative future in ripping people off in the medical industry to the last time I saw her: riding a fucking scooter.

(source) story by (/u/Apophis1942)

[haberdashing]

The End Comes Near (3/?)

TMA AU where Jon isn’t entirely wrong when he asks if Martin is a ghost in episode 39.

on AO3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

Jon looked like shit.

Martin knew why, of course, and he wasn’t judging, exactly. He was sure he didn’t look his best either at the moment, and he’d managed to avoid the worst of the worms’ wrath... somehow... with only a scraped knee to show for his troubles. Jon and Tim evidently hadn’t been so lucky.

Martin wondered, distantly, what would have happened if he hadn’t tripped in the tunnels, if he had been there alongside Jon and Tim to face the brunt of Prentiss’ attack. Would the worms have gotten over whatever had stopped them from... from injuring him when they’d gone after him in the tunnels, leaving Martin in as bad of shape as Jon and Tim now were? Or would the worms have died en masse in the attack, all of them that touched Martin perishing in the attempt like their comrades in the tunnels? Could he have protected his coworkers from it all, at least a little bit?

Whatever the outcome might have been, though, it wasn’t what had actually happened, and it’s not like he’d planned on tripping down there. What was done was done, and that was that.

Though Jon evidently wasn’t done with it all just yet, based on his insistence on taking Martin’s statement now, rather than after both of them had the chance to get some rest, reflect on some things, clean up a little...

Honestly, it was downright painful to look at Jon, to know how much he must be suffering right now, and to know that stupid, stubborn Jon would insist on getting Martin’s statement on tape just the same, no matter how long it took, no matter how much Martin pleaded with him to just call it a night already.

He did try, at least.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Painkillers are starting to wear off, but… it’s fine.”

It was not fine. It was obviously not fine, between the bloody holes that covered what looked to be the entirety of Jon’s body and the way he grimaced when he spoke. Martin wasn’t sure who Jon was trying to fool more, Martin or himself, but he doubted it was working much either way.

“Statement of Martin Blackwood, archival assistant, etcetera, etcetera. Go.”

It all really must have been getting to Jon, if he wasn’t even willing to say the full introduction before handing over the burden of speech to Martin. Jon was usually such a stickler for that kind of thing. Admittedly, Martin suspected that Jon had used the same tape when he’d pestered the rest of the staff into giving their respective statements, so the date and such would already be on it, but still... it wasn’t like Jon, to let something like that slip by the wayside, to just assume that he could flout a few technical requirements to save a bit of time. Usually it seemed like Martin was the one who’d try to find a way to cut through the formalities and Jon was the one who’d inevitably end up yelling at him for it.

He must really be hurting.

But Martin knew well enough that at this point, the only way he could help Jon was by telling his story as quickly as possible, get it over with sooner rather than later so they could all go get some rest.

“Right. Well, I was doing some background checks for case 0081709, when you and Sasha started screaming, so I went to ch-”

Jon interrupted, cutting Martin off without even a hint of hesitation, irritation evident in his voice. “Yes, yes, I was there! I was with you for almost the whole time, and that tape survived just fine.”

“Sorry.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I just… I only need from when you got separated. From when you got lost in the tunnels.”

“No, I mean...” Martin gulped as he considered his next words, though he was fairly certain both what the gist of them would be and that they probably weren’t strictly necessary. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep up.”

Maybe it was silly, to apologize for tripping, to apologize rather than being the one apologized to when the others had been the ones who left him behind in the middle of the attack. But Martin had grown used to apologizing, over the years. Apologizing for mistakes, for accidents, for daring to take up space in the world... it came naturally at this point.

“...oh, Martin.”

And now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop, explaining and apologizing for actions that hadn’t been intentional in the first place but felt like some sort of grave error on his part all the same. “It was an accident. I mean, the worms came at us,  and they were so much faster, and then there was the gas, and the running, and I just… I, I tripped, there was a rock and it wasn’t even that big but it was big enough to do the trick I suppose, and I wanted to catch up but by the time I got up you were gone, you were both gone. It was an accident.”

“I know. It’s fine, Martin. Everybody’s…” Jon let out a long sigh. “Everyone’s fine… I just need you to tell me what happened next, and then it’s finished.”

“Fine” seemed like a bit of an overstatement, in Martin’s opinion, seeing what damage had been done to Jon and Tim (and there was still a voice in the back of his head saying that he could have, should have, done something to prevent it), but Jon had a point. All Martin had to do was explain his piece of the puzzle, and then it was all over with, at least for tonight. Then they could all go home. Then they could try to put this whole ordeal behind them.

“Alright. So, um, yeah, I tripped, scraped my knee a bit, and one of the worms actually jumped on my arm-”

Jon looked up from his gazing at the tape recorder, his eyes wide with a sharp clarity Martin was sure hadn’t been there a moment before. “Did the ECDC check you out?”

“Yes!” Martin said, perhaps a bit louder than necessary, and Jon nodded, his gaze slowly sinking back downwards. “But they didn’t need to, really, because the worm barely touched me. I looked away, just waiting for- well, for whatever came next, I suppose, and then I saw the worm was on the ground, still and dead. There were a few others laying dead there around where I’d fallen--I guess they must have gone after me and I hadn’t even noticed, and somehow that had killed them, too?”

Jon looked back up at Martin, but he didn’t say a word, though Martin could read well enough the curiosity in his eyes.

“Reminded me a bit of how you asked if I was a ghost, really. Ghosts can’t get eaten by worms, can they?”

Jon groaned quietly and made a show of looking anywhere besides at Martin, and despite everything, Martin found himself having to suppress a snort of laughter.

“So once I got up I, I tried shouting, but you didn’t answer...”

It was surprisingly easy to explain the rest from there. Martin felt like it would have been a lot harder if it was just a normal conversation he was having with Jon, like he would have tripped over half his words then, but it was different, somehow, with the tape recorder sitting between them. Like he was just another statement-giver, and it was his job to make sure what he had to say made sense, as much as any of this made sense to begin with.

Jon interjected once briefly, to help keep Martin on track, but he only really began asking questions once Martin reached the bit about finding Gertrude Robinson’s body.

“Martin, how did Gertrude Robinson die?”

Martin was pretty sure he knew how Gertrude Robinson had died; her injuries had been obvious enough, and he had left that room feeling a deep certainty as to the cause of death, though any details beyond that still eluded him. But the officers he had spoken to hadn’t appreciated his making assumptions, and Martin proceeded figuring that Jon probably wouldn’t either, especially given how thorough he was being about this whole thing.

“I don’t know. Not for sure. It was so dark, and I only saw the body for a few seconds. The police were quite clear that the cause of death could be absolutely any-”

“MARTIN!” Jon’s near-shouting startled Martin, shook him out of his previous train of thought. “How did she die?”

Martin’s answer came like a reflex. “She was shot! Three times, that I could see. Three shots to the chest.”

“Right. Right. Thank you, Martin.”

“...sure.” Martin didn’t feel like reporting a murder was something to be thanked for, but he was willing to accept it to keep the conversation moving just the same.

As Jon’s hand moved towards the tape recorder, preparing to turn it back off, Martin spoke up again.

“Er, I know it’s not strictly needed anymore, but can I keep living in the Archives?”

Jon’s finger rested atop the button to turn the tape recorder off as he stared at Martin as if he’d just grown a second head. “You want to stay in the Archives. Where there are thousands of rotting worm carcasses? That Archives?”

Martin could feel the blood draining from his face; he hadn’t actually thought through that angle of things just yet.

“Why would you want to, anyway?”

“Well, I keep thinking about when you asked if I was a ghost-”

Jon sighed, but Martin pressed on just the same.

“-and it’s true that I haven’t left the Institute’s building for some time now. I just keep thinking, what if you were right?”

“I was joking.”

Martin was quite sure that Jon’s question hadn’t been intended as a joke, and after a moment of uncertainty, decided to continue as if Jon hadn’t just claimed otherwise. “What if, if something happens to me when I try to leave?”

Jon pressed one hand against his temple, which had to be all kinds of unsanitary, given that both were covered with still-bloody worm holes. “You’re not a ghost, Martin. You’ll be fine. Just... just go home.”

Jon clicked off the tape recorder, and Martin considered how easily it could have been him telling Jon to go home already rather than vice versa, given the situation. It was probably just a weird bit of superstition that kept him wanting to stay in the building, or perhaps some variation of Stockholm Syndrome. Certainly, the last thing Martin wanted was to spend another night surrounded by worms, even if they were all dead already.

So Martin got up, collected what things he had around the office that hadn’t been utterly destroyed by the worm infestation, and went home.

[mamacesawrites]

The Duke of the Bay: Part 5 2/2

If you want to be put on a taglist for this please let me know!

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 First Part, Ao3 Link, Next Part 

Story Warnings: Guns, threats, alcohol, homosexual slang used pejoratively and positively, internalized homophobia, ask me to add any if need be

Chapter Warnings: None that I can think of, let me know if I need to add any!

Chapter Word Count:  3803

Summary: Patton O’Hearty was a great detective. Most people didn’t take him for one at first glance, especially when he dressed casual. He was abnormally chipper; he thought everything was the cat’s pajamas. He had a smile for everyone he met. He was always tipping his hat at the dames and gents when he walked the streets of the Bay Area.

The only person he could never catch was the leader of the planted mob in Emeryville, nicknamed The Duke. The Duke was good at hiding his dealings and joints well, and he rarely had a snitch in his ranks. The few who tried, well, somehow they disappeared before they could give the police any substantial information. He was well hidden, but popular among the residents of the town. People talked boldly of his rambunctious parties, never revealing the locations though. He was hard to catch, to say the least.

So what happens, when instead, the detective is the one that’s caught?

-

Mr. Doris never failed. His job was, simply put, to make sure things would run smoothly. He was the one who oversaw all the operations. He kept an eye on the booze shipments. He set the meetings for people who wanted to speak with the Duke. He did everything around the Bay Area for the most part. The footprint that the Duke had in the town of Emeryville was his own creation. He wouldn’t say it out loud completely, but he thought of himself as the true boss of everything. 

However, this time he did fail, and he didn’t want to fess up about it to his boss just yet. 

 Virgil wasn’t mad when he had seen the man on his doorstep. He just seemed disappointed. “What are you doing here? Thought you had some broad to dump in a river or something.” 

 “As fun as that sounds, no,” Mr. Doris smirked, “Just thought I’d treat you to some…” he pulled a small flask out of his jacket’s inner pocket, “Fun?” 

 Virgil sighed to himself. He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s not even noon yet, you sneak. Get in here.” 

Mr. Doris grinned slyly as he entered the house. Virgil Vitale lived a pretty nice life. He was the Duke’s cousin. Once upon a time he was going to be second in command. However he gave the position to Mr. Doris for some reason. Something along the lines of how he didn’t want to work too much. It was a big deal in the family at the time. Though over the next few years Mr. Doris had proven himself to be a good enough replacement...until now. 

 “Why are you hiding from the Duke, Janny boy?” Virgil teased as he poured himself some coffee in the kitchenette. He was doing his best to act calm in front of his unexpected visitor. However his hands were tense in their task.

 “Don’t call me that, Vitale!” the short man hissed. He then continued with mock innocence, “Plus, who said I was hiding? Can’t a man pop in on his pal without it being work related?” 

 Virgil scoffed as he sat down in his chair. “You’re not a man, Doris. You’re more like a, uh, a slimy snake.” He smirked to hide the urge to bite his lip with nerves. 

 Virgil Vitale was a handsome young man.Though over the past month his wavy black hair had gotten too long. It was falling over his face, nearly hiding his steel blue eyes. His lips were angular, and almost always in a half smile or a frown. His skin was a somewhat darker tan, showing off his Italian heritage boldly. That was the only clue that he was even a part of the family in general, though his skin was also the darkest-but not by much.

 It was a great shame, Mr. Doris often thought, that he didn’t want much to do with the family business. He served his purpose where he was obligated. He had proven his loyalty time and time again. Most of the family just saw him as an independent man trying to make his own way in the world after the Great War.

 All Mr. Doris was able to see was a slacker who didn’t even last one year on the battlefield.

 The visitor bared his teeth as he crossed his arms. He was questioning his decision about avoiding the boss. The host was being more brusque than usual. To give him benefit of the doubt, though, they were both pretty worn down from tailing the two detectives their leader had his black eyes on. 

 “If you must know,” he answered. He turned his nose up and sniffed. Virgil held back a grimace at the gesture as his ‘friend’ continued, “I may have been chased off by that pansy cop.” 

 Virgil choked on his drink. “Pansy? Really?” There was no way in hell Mr. Doris would have been able to find out. Virgil had only just learned the night before when-

 “Well, if the noises he was making with the boss in his office were any indication,” the serpent-like man winked at him. He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis. 

 Virgil’s brow crinkled in confusion. When had Logan been in the Duke’s- oh. Mr. Doris was talking about the other one. Patrick or whatever. The one he didn’t have to keep tabs on. 

 “Well, I don’t see what him being...ya know...has to do with anything?” Virgil looked at the rim of his mug as he sipped. He didn’t want to be talking about this at all, however getting this info would be beneficial. Even if it was only gossip. He could find a way to give the information to his...accomplice. 

 “Well, nothing, obviously, but-” Mr. Doris waved his gloved hands around as he spoke. He was sick of this unnecessary distraction. “This whole deal has been a disaster. I wish we hadn’t gone through with this plan. You know, if I was boss-”

Virgil slammed his mug down. He shouted out, “That’s enough, Janus! I may not be the boss but I’m still his blood. You’re already on thin ice,” Virgil lowered his voice to a threatening growl. “Don’t tempt me to let him know that you’re talking like that. Especially after you messed up on teaching a lesson to that doll, uh, what’s her name?” 

 “Alice Beauregard,” Doris mumbled. All of his bravado had been pulled inward. He looked like a child who had been caught digging into the cookie jar with how red his face turned. He hated when Virgil called him by his first name. He opened his mouth to say more, but Virgil’s telephone started to ring. 

 “One moment,” Virgil stood up to answer. 

 It was good timing. Mr. Doris didn’t want to keep intruding. Especially if the man was going to be so touchy. He had to go see the Duke anyways. No use putting it off for too long. He waved at his friend as he walked out the door. 

 He tapped the steering wheel of his car nervously. His favorite pair of sunflower yellow gloves stood out among the black aesthetic. He found peace in the memories that came when he looked at them. Wearing them was akin to a child carrying their security blanket everywhere. With the safe cover of the soft material hugging his fingers, he grabbed a hold of his nerves as he arrived at the Lion’s Den. 

 He walked in to see that the Duke was standing at the office window. The boss had his hands clasped behind his back. Today he was wearing black slacks, forest green suspenders, and a light green dress shirt. The man had such a preference for green that it was sort of...queer. He had told Mr. Doris it was because green was the color of money. Money was all that flowed through his veins. That was what he claimed, at least. 

 “Hello, Mr. Doris. How’d it go with our dear Miss Alice?” he asked calmly. The soft tone of his voice was foreign to Doris’ ears. 

 “Well, she didn’t have the cash,” the subordinate hedged. He sat down at the seat in front of the large wooden desk. 

 “I see. Did you take care of her?” the Duke was still eerily calm. The quiet before a storm. He didn’t seem upset about the monetary loss. Mr. Doris suspected that the questioning was formal. Maybe he was off of the hook. 

 “I didn’t kill her,” Mr. Doris answered again. It wasn’t a lie. 

 “So, where is she?” Mr. Doris didn’t see the Duke’s tight grip on the windowsill in front of him. 

 “Somewhere far away…” the shorter man trailed off. He couldn’t handle one more question without spilling the beans. He crossed his fingers and hid them in his lap.

 “Mr. Doris, one more question,” the Duke’s tone was void of any aggression. Well, no obvious aggression. 

 Why did Mr. Doris still feel like his entire body was already drowned in the cold waters of the bay? “Yes, boss?” 

 “How...stupid do you think I am?” The Duke still kept his voice calm as his body started to shake. The cool facade was dropping rapidly with each second. 

 Mr. Doris stayed quiet. He didn’t have a word to say that wouldn’t technically be a lie. Plus he could already see that he was in trouble. He gripped the arms of the chair as he braced himself for the explosion. 

 The Duke spun around wildly. He slammed his fist on the table. “I don’t know where you were mulling around, but in the meantime I got a call from the damn captain telling me his top two detectives left on a call to a girl in distress then disappeared. He’s bugging out, sayin’ that he’s been exposed. I had to offer him even more money, which means more cash lost because of this damn child!” 

 His eyes were nearly throwing flames towards his companion. His lips twitched in annoyance. Mr. Doris felt that the black rage being radiated towards him wasn’t all because of this small mistake. His boss had been more touchy as of late. This was about more than just his failure to bring the girl in. It was about who disrupted the job in the first place. 

 Ever since the detectives showed up for the party a month ago, he noticed the Duke was antsy. Mr. Doris was surprised that the cops were given so much time to decide, even though it was a formality. Frankly it was confusing. Why was the Duke even exposing himself like this to these detectives? Especially since it was all for show? There was no point in sticking his business out to their enemies. 

 Mr. Doris decided to placate the raging man for now, though. “Sorry, sir, I’ll be more careful. I’m going to find her-”

“No, I’m going to find her. I have a feeling I know exactly where she is.” The Duke started to put his things together. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk to grab his gun. His movements were loud as he got ready.

 “Where?” The second in command felt nervous about not being involved. It wouldn’t be good for business flow if he was cast aside. The Duke needed a handler when he went out on business.

 The Duke grinned softly as he shrugged on his trench coat. “Where else? With my dear detective, of course.”

 -----

 “Alright, you got the plan, Logan?” Patton asked his partner as they parked the car. 

 “Uh huh,” Logan answered vaguely. His eyes were unfocused a majority of the time since they left Alice at his home to wait for his friend. 

 “Hey!” Patton snapped his fingers towards his partner. “I can’t have you leaving me, Lo!” 

 “Sorry,” Logan shook his head. His face turned a bright pink at being caught lost in his thoughts. “One more time, Pat?” 

 Patton gripped the steering wheel. He felt so close to getting this over with, and now Logan was the one losing his marbles. Still, he wouldn’t let his frustrations blind him again. He rested his palms on the wheel and took in a deep breath. His fingers felt like they were buzzing at the thought of being the one to put the cuffs on the Duke. He smiled at the image in his thoughts of that. 

 Patton spoke quickly, “We’re going to go in and say that the girl didn’t want to file a report. Since backup didn’t see her recognize us, that might be believable. If the captain asks why we still didn’t bring her in for questioning, we say she was hysterical,” Patton shared a smile with Logan at the thought of Alice being hysterical. 

“Right. Then we mention that we suspect a plant, using your theories-except the part where you suspect it’s him,” Logan’s face hardened, “I really hope it’s not. He has a child on the way.” 

 Patton’s excited grin fell. He hadn’t had time to think that his captain, his boss, his superior-was also his friend. Captain de Rossi was a kind man. How had he forgotten? The man was stubborn at times, some may even say eccentric. Yet he had done good for their station. He’s the one who sniffed out the Duke’s gang in the first place for them. 

 He leaned back in his seat. He felt a bit of guilt at the thoughts he was having about doubting the captain. He looked at Logan, who also seemed to feel ashamed. Logan’s eyes were cast down at his hands. His mouth was frowning downwards that it seemed the gears in his mind were slowing. He whispered, “What if we’re wrong, and we doom his family to having that accusation on their heads for a long time?”  

 Patton bit his lip. “What if we’re right, and it ends up getting so ugly his kid ends up on the bad side of things?” 

 Logan was silent. He scrunched his eyebrows in thought. His gears were starting to speed up again. He looked up and nodded at Patton. “Alright,” he confidently stated, “Alright, let’s clean up our station.” 

 The two got out of the vehicle quickly. Neither of them wanted to prolong the inevitable. Patton still got a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was starting to weigh in what would happen to his friend’s family. Moreso, what would happen to the town? The captain was likable by the citizens. Would it crush their hearts? 

 He asked himself, for the first time since he met the Duke, how much he was willing to sacrifice for the capture of one man? 

 He and Logan hung up their suits. He noticed that the other cops weren’t there. For a split second he feared that the captain was out too, until he heard yelling from the man’s office. 

 “No, you don’t understand! My wife is due to have our kid soon and if you think-” 

 The yelling stopped as Logan burst into the office. The captain’s head snapped up. He froze as he saw Patton follow in shortly after. His wide eyes made him look like a deer caught on the road. 

 “I’ll call you later,” he told the anonymous voice on the line before carefully hanging up. He cleared his throat. “Good to finally see you guys,” he forced a cheerful tone in his loud voice as he spread his arms wide. 

 Captain Roman de Rossi was a handsome man. Despite his Italian features, he was able to quickly climb the ranks to get his position as captain of Emeryville Police Department. He had vibrant brown eyes that were nearly black. His black curly hair was magically tamed most of the time, though the past few weeks he hadn’t been able to manage it with his nervous habit of rubbing his hands through it. His skin was tanned, though it wasn’t so dark that most of the time people were shocked to learn of his Italian heritage. 

 He was tense. Patton could see it in his grin. His chin was tilted down, his jaw was taught, his clothes were wrinkled. He looked like a mess of a man. If Patton hadn’t known better, he’d say he looked like some of the drunks he’d brought in over the course of his years working at the station. 

 Logan shared a glance with Patton before responding. “Apologies about the delay, captain. We had some trouble with the last call.” Logan’s voice was smooth over the lie. The only tell he caught was Logan’s refusal to look straight at the captain. Patton could barely see that Logan was covering his anxiety.

 Roman nodded then sat down. “Sit, gentleman, tell me what happened.” 

 The detectives sat down cautiously. Neither of them knew what to expect, and if they could read the captain’s mind, they would have known they weren’t alone in their nervousness. It was a standoff-except they didn’t know they were on opposite sides of what was good. 

 Roman’s face morphed into a serious expression. His professional persona that he reserved for serious cases overtook his body language and face. Patton resisted the urge to flinch at the severity of that glare. “Well, sir, the girl-” 

 Patton stuttered at the raised eyebrow the captain gave him. He looked at Logan to save him. 

 “Naturally, after the perpetrator got away, she blew into hysterics. We both decided it was best to take her home to help her get calm,” the younger detective answered.

 “She also didn’t want to file a report,” Patton chimed in. He felt his old confidence return. He smiled warmly at the captain, trying to ignore the jitters his boss was throwing out. 

 “I see…” Roman muttered. He looked over to Logan directly, “What happened to the perp?” 

 Logan gulped. He hadn’t been prepared for that question to be so direct, and filled  with tense focus. “I-he-” 

 “He got away, didn’t he?” Roman asked aggressively. His voice was starting to raise. 

 “You two are good cops. I thought I could trust you to take down this gang.” 

His face was getting red. He looked down at his desk, “I trusted you two to be a force for good.” 

 Patton reached out to touch his friend’s hand. He didn’t care in the moment that the captain was likely in on the crimes being committed. They were still friends. How could he have forgotten that? 

  “We’re sorry. We underestimated them.” 

 Roman looked at the detective’s hands resting on his. Such a soft action. He was still reaching out to him. Patton was a good detective. He had a love for everyone that was immeasurable. The captain swallowed. His face told them only a hint of the storm brewing in his mind from the contact.

 “Sir, I have a theory that may help us with the case,” Logan broke the silence. His face was full of regret for what he was about to say. His words were nearly a whisper, yet they were loud with their implications. “I think there may be a plant. I suspected with the anonymous tip we received a month ago, and I know so now.” 

 The captain sucked in a breath. Patton watched his reaction-looking for any sign of deception or a clue of his betrayal. He continued to watch while Logan explained in slow, calculated words. 

 “I regret to inform you that my suspicions were confirmed when the Duke…” Logan straightened his posture to deliver with a confident voice, “When he sent one of his lackeys to my home last night.” 

 Patton turned his head sharply at Logan. His shocked expression was match for match with the captain. Logan was going off script. Patton met his partner’s apologetic eyes briefly before they were interrupted by the captain’s rage. 

 “You had a chance to capture a criminal, and didn’t call it in?!” Roman roared, shooting out of his chair. “Not only that, you let another one get away after attacking a young girl! I have half a mind to-” 

 Patton stood up. He held his hands out in peace. He saw what he needed to see about their captain. He hid his heartbreak well enough at the betrayal that was confirmed...by both of them. 

 “Fellas, please, let’s talk this out calmly,” his voice betrayed him by cracking, “I’m sure Logan was trying to-” 

 “Put the blame on someone else! He’s pointing fingers!” The captain slammed his fist on his desk. Patton looked at Logan. 

 The younger detective stayed steady. His face was resigned against the fire being thrown at him from his boss. Patton wanted to figure out what his deal was, but first they needed to get out of there on calm terms. 

 “Captain,” Logan spoke slowly. His voice was monotone. He was devoid of all emotion. “I think you’re too tired to think clearly,” the angry man’s face fell into a darker expression. Logan continued, “I hadn’t had time to notify you or Patton, it’s been a fretful day.” 

 “Logan, you just made a big mistake,” Roman growled out. Patton’s heart fell as he watched the exchange-helpless, like he had been every time he got close to something that would help him catch the Duke. 

 Roman stood tall, and Logan followed suit. They both seemed in the know about what was going on. Patton shook his head back and forth at them. He wanted to shout to clear the tension, but his throat was closed. His words had escaped his mind as soon as Logan implied he was working with- 

 “Detective Logan Smith,” the captain’s voice was rigid, “You have withheld vital information to the investigation from me, and your partner. You are hereby suspended for two weeks. Please,” Patton was held in place by his surprise, “Hand over your badge and weapon.” 

 Patton felt a cry settle on his chest. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. He couldn’t believe his ears. The captain was really suspending someone like Logan? 

 Logan took it well, it seemed. He didn’t beg. He didn’t cry. He didn’t shout. He didn’t even try to defend himself like Patton wanted to. He removed his gun from his belt, along with his badge, and handed it over to their captain with no emotion in his body. 

 Logan nodded at the still-fuming captain behind the desk. He turned to Patton and offered his hand. Patton gripped it tight as he shook it. He choked down his emotions while he was painfully aware of the captain’s eyes on them. He looked into his young partner’s blue eyes; was that mischief?

 Logan saluted them both when he reached the door and left. He stood tall. Roman deflated into his seat as Logan left. Logan had been right. The captain looked tired for sure. Patton wondered to himself what this was going to mean if he was going to capture the gang leader that plagued his every thought. 

 “Detective-Patton, you’re still on the case. Please make sure you don’t make the mistake Detective Smith did by hesitating to report new information.” Roman waved to the door, covering his face with his hand as he leaned on the edge of the desk. “You’re dismissed.” 

 Patton walked out, though he didn’t feel the ground beneath him. His limbs were not attached to his body. His head was dizzy from the quick exchange that had just taken place. The weight in his stomach was crushing his guts. His mind was swimming with questions. Questions about the captain, about Logan, about the Duke...about himself. 

 The sun was bright in his eyes as he stepped outside. He looked around for Logan, though it was futile. 

 The deed was done. Patton would have to find the Duke alone.

 -

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Taglist: @deceits-left-glove 

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANTED TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST FOR ANY SHIP/STORY!

[feelingfredly]

The Fox Guards the Wolf

Chapter 20--Killing Two Birds with One Stone

Ichigo had been slogging away all afternoon.  His eyes burned and his fingers were considering committing mutiny, but he had to get to the end of this scene.  Coming back deal with a dead body was a bitch after you’d gotten past the high of killing them off.  Or at least it was when you were writing it.  He’d have to ask Kisuke if he wanted first-hand information.

He tried to imagine the look on the blond’s face as he answered. Would this be one of the answer-without-even-slowing-down questions, or one of the-just-how-much-can-I-actually-explain-without-making-this-weird questions? How long would they need to have been dating for him to start that conversation?  Three months?  Would they even get to three months?

Ichigo shook his head and forced away that train of thought.  One day at a time, Kurosaki, he told himself. You have to survive this mess with Okura before you start freaking out over relationship stuff.

Plus, he needed to focus on the very real need of getting his manuscript finished.  He’d had very little time to work on it lately, but the radio silence with Kisuke was driving him crazy and work was clearly his best escape, otherwise he’d just end up pacing the apartment trying to convince himself that waiting wasn’t a waste of time.

Kisuke was trained to deal with situations like this, or at least with people like Okura, and Ichigo knew his experiences dealing with low-level thugs didn’t qualify him for anything more than an occasional street fight; he’d long pushed past his skill parameters.

He kept telling Ichigo to wait, to stay safe, that he'd let him know when it was time to make the next move.  Maybe Ichigo had gotten to be too much of a handicap.   His position at the Onmi had never been anything but a joke to Kisuke, and now that they knew that the Director’s plan was to take the blond out of the equation one way or another, saddling him with a civilian ‘bodyguard’ was clearly meant to hobble him. Ichigo was supposed to be a distraction at best, and cannon fodder at worst. Kawasaki probably thought Kisuke’s bizarre knight-in-shining-bucket-hat routine would make him more vulnerable if he had to divide his attention between taking on Okura and protecting Ichigo. The fucker didn’t know what he’d done, though, because protecting the people he cared about was what Ichigo did. The fact that the Director didn’t mean for it to be real meant exactly nothing. Ichigo was going to protect Kisuke, damn it. Nothing was going to hurt him or anyone else as long as he was in the picture.

He was going to… knock, knock, knock. A quietly insistent rapping at the door broke into his mental diatribe.

He was going to answer the door, apparently.

His new apartment was technically in the same complex as the one he’d had with Renji, but it was an older building on the other side of the development, and they hadn’t gotten around to putting in much security. Kisuke had made up for that which was good because with his family still out of town there was no one who should be visiting him.  Ichigo reached up and pressed the tiny receiver button hidden in the shaggy edges of his hair.

One set of life signs in the hallway.   Female. Does not match any friends or family on file.  Running facial recognition subroutine.

The stripped-down version of the security AI Kisuke developed couldn’t do nearly as much as the original, but it was better than a peephole or a hackable video doorbell.

Facial recognition hit.  Maki Hideko.

Ichigo wrestled with the name for a moment before placing it as belonging to the woman he’d met at Okura’s office building.  His shitsuji.

“Just a minute!” Ichigo closed down his computer and disconnected it from the wifi.  He wasn’t exactly paranoid, but he didn’t want to run any unnecessary risks.

Once the humming stopped, he stood up from the desk, grimacing as his body groaned and popped in complaint at having been stuck in one position too long.

“If you’re from the NHK, I don’t even have a TV.  And I’m unemployed right now.” He grinned to himself at the absurdity of it, but there was no reason to let the butler know she’d been made, right?  He snagged his button-down from the back of the couch as he passed, slinging it around his shoulders as he opened the door.

“I told you,” he started, sticking with the pretense, and was gratified to see the look of consternation on the woman’s face.  “Oh!” He dropped a careless bow. “My apologies…  ah…   Maki-san…? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

She was just as beautiful as Ichigo remembered, but something about the way she was dressed implied that this might be a less formal visit than their last had been.

“Please forgive me, Kurosaki-san.” Maki bowed much deeper than Ichigo had. “I hope I am not intruding.  It’s just that…” she turned her head to one side and lowered her lashes in a move that Yuzu had categorized as totally harmless look, number 3, and actually managed to blush. “Well, it’s just that Okura-dono has been worried about how things have been going for you. He was going to send someone over to check on you to make sure that you were settling in okay and that no one at the Onmi was giving you any trouble, so I volunteered.” She gave a little shrug, “You did say you were curious about shitsuji, and I thought I could kill two birds with one stone.”

Ichigo shifted his weight slightly on his feet.  Well, this was unexpected.   On the one hand, dealing with anyone sent by Okura was a gamble, but on the other...

“Oh, that is very kind of you to offer!” He bowed again, this time a little lower and with a smile instead of his typical scowl. “As you can see, I’m fine, and everyone at the Onmi has respected my resignation, so Okura-san needn’t worry. But I really would like to ask you some questions about your training and experiences. Could we go somewhere?  Maybe talk over a cup of coffee?”

Maki gave him a slow smile—ah yes… Gotcha, look number 2.  Thank you, Yuzu!—and said, “Make it tea, and you’ve got a deal.”

Tea it was, then.

***

“Yes, and then Okura-dono tripped over the tray that I left and ended up on the floor.  I was so afraid that he was going to fire me.  I mean, that is exactly what a good shitsuji is supposed to prevent from happening.  You’re supposed to know what your master needs before he knows.  Provide everything before their request can even be formed into words.”

Ichigo laughed at the image of Okura Kagetaka falling ass-over-teakettle but couldn’t help but notice that the stories being spun for him had been carefully crafted to make Okura a sympathetic character. Kisuke might play the buffoon at times, but he would never simply stumble over an inanimate object.  Actually, he’d managed to navigate Ichigo’s bedroom—a room he’d never even seen—backwards, in the dark, and with Ichigo’s mouth all over him without bumping into a single piece of furniture or tripping over the books on the floor or the cords stretched from the wall to the bed where his tech was charging.  It was unlikely that Okura had that much less situational awareness; Kisuke would have taught him better than that.

Good thing no one expected Maki Hideko to be a reliable narrator in this story.

“So, do most people think of you as an assistant? A servant?  A member of the family?  You hear so many conflicting stories, it’s hard to know what’s realistic.”

Maki sipped her tea and looked thoughtful for a moment.

“They are all realistic in their way. You see, there are as many roles for shitsuji as there are masters.  Every employer has a different set of needs and it is the duty of the shitsuji to fill those needs.  I joined my first master when he was very young. He had inherited a fortune and a position within his family’s company but was lacking in the administrative skills necessary to run a household.  For him I was everything from an administrative assistant to a proxy hostess, making sure that gatherings went smoothly, and guests were happy.  I left his employ when he married because his wife had a long-term family retainer who filled that place for her, and she was more comfortable running things without my assistance.”

Ichigo could put two and two together.  The wife hadn’t wanted someone around who would make her look bad in comparison.  It was hard to blame her. Maki Hideko would be hard to compete with.

“Then, I worked as an assistant to the shitsuji of a family whose head was a member of the Diet.  One butler was not nearly enough to fulfill the needs of that family, but when I was offered the opportunity to move on to assist one of his associates, I jumped at the chance to run a household on my own again. That’s how I ended up with Okura-dono.”

So, Okura was an associate to a member of the Diet.  That was a little heavier than Ichigo had expected, but honestly, politicians were politicians no matter how high on the food chain.  Okura had money and leverage, two things that politicians needed more than blood or oxygen.

“The hardest part about switching employers is where you have to completely reprogram your responses to things.  You might have a master who is a stickler about your being silent until you are spoken to.  It isn’t unusual, honestly—there are lots of masters who prefer to think of their shitsuji simply as tools, efficient and always at hand, and they pay well for the privilege—but then your next station could require that you handle correspondence proactively, or handle telephone calls and invitations without running everything past your master first. It can be difficult to change gears like that.”

“I’m assuming that Okura Kagetaka isn’t one of the don’t-speak-until-spoken-to masters?” Ichigo asked.

Maki gripped her teacup tighter, and Ichigo noted that her fingernails were short and well-manicured, probably so they wouldn’t interfere with her work.  Or her fighting.

“No.  Okura-dono isn’t like that.  He is very…  progressive in his expectations. Not many women become shitsuji, and I must admit that a few have very misguided notions of how we are to behave. It has been refreshing to have a master that respects my skills and allows me to take on new responsibilities.”

Ichigo had wondered about the whole female butler thing. The Butler Café fad sweeping through the city had to affect people who wanted to be taken seriously in the role, especially women.

“He seemed like a very talented guy.” Ichigo tried to sound sincere but perplexed. “I still don’t understand why he’s so invested in this whole situation with me and the Onmi, but I’m not going to ignore kindness when I see it.”

Maki sat back in her chair a little and looked at him over her tea.  “A very wise decision, Kurosaki-san.  Kindness is a rarity in this world.”

Ichigo nodded.  “Still it almost always comes at a price.”

They sat like that in silence for a few moments before Maki set her cup on the table and turned her full attention on him.  Her eyes were dark and lovely and if Ichigo hadn’t recently developed a thing for gray eyes they might have made an impact.

“Kurosaki-san,” she said, gingerly stretching her fingers across the table’s surface towards him, never being forward enough to actually touch him, but the suggestion of it was clear.  “I know that Okuro-dono is very powerful and it must feel strange to have earned his consideration, but he wants you to trust him, to rely on him as a mentor, even.  He sees so much potential in you and feels very strongly that it is his responsibility to keep watch over you.  He has known Urahara Kisuke for more than a decade; knows how dangerous he can be.  Believe me, he will do whatever he can to keep you from Urahara’s clutches.”

Clutches?  Ichigo had to smother a laugh and hide his face in his tea.  Hopefully he just looked overwhelmed by the attentions of a pretty girl.

She was really good at this, he admitted.  Nothing she said was untrue; Okura would do whatever he could to keep Ichigo from Kisuke.  It was his motivation that was suspect.

“I don’t know what to say,” he dipped his head a little.  “I started out just trying to help a stranger, and now I’m in the middle of something that I wouldn’t even put in my novel it seems so farfetched.”

Maki shifted and suddenly her chair was a little closer.  “I’ve been wanting to ask—I hope it isn’t too forward of me—but how does someone who selflessly helps a stranger in a coffee shop have the connections that you do to the Yakuza?”

Ichigo thought about how he should explain.

“I don’t, really,” he said, and could see the disbelief settle on her face. “I mean, they’re from the neighborhood, and I’ve known a lot of them since primary school.  The guy with me the other day?  His little brother and I were in the same class.”

“My dad was a cop, so I knew better than to run with them, and my mom…  well, she died because of a turf war when I was a kid.  Total case of wrong place/wrong time plus a healthy dose of it can’t happen to me. But, between those things I ended up being the guy the local gang wanted to recruit but couldn’t.   They tried to beat it out of me a couple of times, but I just learned how to fight back, and after a while…  well, it was almost like I’d earned enough respect that they let me be.”

“But Masuda…” Maki stopped the name short, clearly trying not to call attention to the fact that she knew his name when there was no reason for her to, “the man you were with the other day.  He called you boss.”

Ichigo let her play it off.  “Yeah, Masuda calls everyone boss, except his boss.  He calls Mamushi kumichō-dono.”

That seemed to satisfy her on some level.

“I thought it was strange,” she started, and then started again.   “Okura-dono doesn’t approve of Yakuza, so it seemed a little odd…”

Ichigo smiled. “Why would a nice guy like him help out a bad guy like me?   Yeah…  not with the Yakuza.  I mean, I’ve had more than my fair share of dealings with them—you can’t ignore them—but your boss isn’t sullying his hands by helping me.”

Two pink spots appeared on Maki’s cheeks and Ichigo thought she might actually be embarrassed. “I didn’t mean anything like that, Kurosaki-san.  I apologize most humbly if it came across that way.”

Ichigo nodded. “I understand.  Believe me.  I know what I look like.  You should see how they react to me when I’m working in the wards at the hospital.  *gasp* That’s my doctor?  No!”

He held his hands up to his chest in a dramatic motion of denial, and a tiny smile quirked Maki’s lip.

“Surely not, Kurosaki-san.  I am convinced that you have the patients eating out of your hands.”

Ichigo sipped his tea and gave a mournful look.  “Oh, if only, Maki-san.  It would have made my decision to be a writer instead of a doctor much harder if that had been the case.”

“A writer,” she looked suitably doubtful, like every other person he’d ever told that to, “and how does that work?”

At this point he had no idea why they were still talking, but why not.

“Well, when I was working at the Onmi it was easy.  I basically camped out in the corner of the room and wrote all day while other people did their stuff.  Before that I had to carve out whatever time I could between class and the hospital and family time.  I spent a lot of time in coffee shops, which is what got me into this mess in the first place.”

He thought back to that day and shook his head.  “Feels like forever ago.  Weird that it’s only been what?  A month and a half?”

“Seven weeks.” The words were out of her mouth so quickly she couldn’t stop them.  “Ah, that’s what Okura-dono…” she looked like she was trying not to swallow her tongue.

Ichigo nodded, “Yeah.  That’s about right.  Time flies.”

And if that didn’t make it clear that he’d been on Okura’s radar the whole time, he was a natural brunet.

Maki sat up even straighter and smiled, all seriousness banished and her almost-flirtatious edge back. “Hopefully, because you’re having fun.”

Well, Ichigo thought as he watched her change gears, a little flirtation never hurt anyone, and returned the smile.

“Good company makes everything more fun.”

***

Good company, indeed, Kagetaka thought, as he adjusted the sound on the receiver a little.

He quickly skimmed through the notes he’d taken, pleased with the groundwork Maki’d laid.  He’d told her to take it slow because Kurosaki wasn’t as easily led as his father, but he was clearly not immune to the pretty girl’s charms.  She already had him talking about Kisuke’s work at the Onmi.

“Yeah,” the redhead was talking again, “he was always working on it, and talking to it.  He called it Yoruichi.  I guess he named it after a friend.  Maybe an old partner? I don’t know.”

Maki made a disapproving noise and Kagetaka could just imagine the delicate purse of her lips. “I don’t recognize the name, but it sounds like the program that was that was stolen from Okura-dono. The man has even less honor than I’ve been told.”

Yoruichi. Kagetaka’s lips twisted in a smile. That had to be the activation code that he needed. It was so obvious… he should have guessed. Kisuke had an enormous soft spot for the woman—but now he knew, and it didn’t matter. With the code he’d be able to activate the main routine as soon as he’d pried it out of Kisuke’s servers. Even better, his last message from Kawasaki said that the Shihoin woman’s partner was being set on a path to intercept any trouble with Mamushi.  It was going to be a lovely irony to use her partner against her. He could sow a tale of domestic troubles that would muddy the waters even more when he finally made his move.

The microphone picked up a faint noise, maybe Kurosaki doing something with his cup, and Okura waited until he started talking again.

“This whole situation is so strange.” He sounded almost defeated. Good. “After I met your boss, I went straight to Urahara and asked if what I’d been told was true. I expected denials and explanations, but he didn’t deny it at all.  He admitted straight out that he destroyed a project Okura had been working on.  Said that it was too dangerous for a private business, and that Okura should know better. But if he didn’t destroy it.  If he kept it….”  Kurosaki’s voice drifted away and Kagetaka wished he had more than just audio on the scene.  It would be nice to be able to gauge the redhead’s reactions better.

“Too dangerous?  That’s ridiculous. Okura-dono’s projects are all for the good of the people.  He wants to keep them safe.”  Maki sounded so righteous when she was defending him.  He’d clearly chosen the right person for this job. “The only people who want to stop him are the ones who lurk in the shadows and are afraid of his light. The Yakuza is afraid of him because he will expose their secrets, and Urahara hates him because he couldn’t control him or make him into a carbon-copy killer.  You are lucky to have gotten away when you did, Kurosaki-san.   The man is a menace.”

Kurosaki sighed and shifted noisily again.   “And here I thought I’d gotten better at judging people.  Maybe that’s why I like writing better than reality.  With stories I can just make things work the way I want them to.”

Kagetaka smirked.  He didn’t need to resort to fiction to have things the way he wanted them.  All he needed was time for the plans he’d put in motion would come to fruition, and Urahara Kisuke would be no more.

He picked up the phone.

“Chiaki-san,” he spoke crisply, “let Director Kawasaki know that I’ve gotten the information that he requested.  He can visit me in my office whenever he’s available, the sooner the better.”

He glanced at the clock and texted Maki-san.  Appointment scheduled.  Please adjust the calendar accordingly.

The mic crackled a little and Kagetaka heard the message notification on Maki’s phone ping.

“Oh, Kurosaki-kun,” she said, “this has been most enjoyable, but it seems my free time has come to an end.”

He could hear the shuffling as the two of them rose to their feet.

“No rest for the wicked, hmm?” Kurosaki teased and murmured something to their server.  “Thank you, then, for spending your valuable free time satisfying my curiosity.”

There was a minor scuffle as Kurosaki insisted on paying the bill, but Maki gave in with good grace.

Good girl, he thought.  Keep him on the hook a little longer.  It would be wise to keep tabs on the young man, even if he was just a pawn in the game.

“It was my pleasure, Kurosaki-san,” she said. Her bow was almost silent, only the sound of her hands whispering along the material of her slacks giving it away.  “Perhaps you will be able to use some of the information I provided in your stories.”

That was greeted with a short laugh and Kagetaka could hear the warmth in Kurosaki’s tone as he responded. “If there wasn’t a place for it already, I would make one.   It will be very useful.  Thank you.”

Kagetaka turned off the receiver and nodded. Very useful indeed.

[velasnyx]

Welcome to the Pack Ch.9

I got to the alley. I could already smell the blood. But it wasn't from a werewolf. It was human blood and it smelt familiar too. "Hey! What are you doing here?". I turned to an older man who was standing in the doorway of the backdoor of the restaurant. "I'm sorry. My friend dropped his wallet here earlier today," I said. "I was out here for a smoke break. I didn't see a wallet anywhere," he said. "Are you sure? Maybe you can check on your camera?" I asked. He sighed. "Fine. I will check the camera. Come with me".

I followed him into a room. I guess it was his office. He sat in front of his computer and started looking for the footage. "Boris! I've got an unruly customer! Some help would be nice!". This could be my chance! C'mon Boris, get the hell outta here. "Ah! Stay here and don't touch anything," he said then left.

I started to look for the footage from last night. The footage was in 1 hour intervals. I gotta find this quick. I clicked on them and fast forwarded. "I got someone in the back who's looking for a wallet. I don't want to keep them there alone too long," I heard Boris say. He'll be making his way back soon. Gotta hurry.

I could hear his footsteps coming back. Dammit. Where is it? "Boris! Aleksie's got your delivery. He's in the alley". "Tell him I'll be right there". Found it! A van pulled up. They tried to take her but she turned. They used the wolfsbane to knock her out. That blood was from the hunter. I took a picture of the license plate with my phone. One of the hunters was stupid enough to show his face. I took a picture of that too.

I closed the video and stepped away from the computer. He came back into the room. We looked through the footage from today and of course found nothing. "Oh man. I don't know what my friend's gonna do. If only he was more responsible. Thank you anyway," I told him.

I didn't recognize that hunter. Maybe her brother might. Ema had sent me the address a few hours ago. It isn't too far from here and it's not too late to pass by.

I knocked on the door. No answer. Maybe it was too late. I knocked again. Still nothing. I waited a bit and figured he was either out or sleeping. I'll have to try tomorrow. I started to walk away.

Just then, a loud crash came from the apartment. I ran back and busted through the door. Before I could figure out what was going on, I was guy in the face with something that was made of glass. I leaned against the wall while I was still disoriented. I heard footsteps run past me

I staggered out the door and saw three figures running down the stairs. Get your head in the game Mia. You gotta go after them.

I ran outside and saw them throw someone in a van. It was the same van from the footage! They got in and started driving off. I hurried to my motorcycle and went after them.

When I managed to catch up, I slashed their tires. They started losing control of the van. "Get that bitch off our tail!". One of them there something at the front wheel of my bike, causing me to swerve. When I got closer to the van, a gun appeared out the window. I didn't have time to react. They pulled the trigger and I was hit. But it wasn't a bullet. It was a syringe. I pulled it out.

I went for the other tires but noticed I couldn't draw out my claws. What the hell was in that syringe? They threw a pipe at my wheel and I lost control of the bike. Didn't do much good though since they lost control not long after.

"Dammit! Dammit! Get that bitch!". I heard a flurry of footsteps running over. I looked up and saw four hunters coming right my way. I got to my feet, ready to fight. Come at me, mother fuckers. I can hold my own just fine. Even without my powers.

One of them swing at me. I dodged and grabbed his arm. I slammed him to the floor and kicked him in the face. One down.

I felt something hard hit my back. I fell to my knees and got kicked in the face. My senses are off since I can't use my powers. I saw the pipe coming right toward my face. I grabbed it and pulled it down. My knee collided with the hunters face. Two down. I felt blood trickle down the left side of my face. They must've busted my head open. Great.

The other two looked a little scared. I stood up and glared at them. One charged at me and I punched him, knocking him unconscious. "Shot! Fuck this!" the other said. He started running away. I grabbed the metal pipe that hunter used to hit me and there it at other's legs. It hit his legs and he fell to the floor with a pained scream. "You broke my legs, you bitch!". I walked over to the van. "You're lucky I can use my powers. I would have slaughtered each and every one of you," I sneered as the I passed him. He shot me a nasty glare.

I looked in the van. No one was in there. Dammit! He must have run away. That's fine. I'll get my answers from the source. I walked back to the hunter. "Stay away from me freak!" he yelled. I squatted down and grabbed him by his hair. "Where's the girl?" I asked. "Fuck you!". I slammed his face against the concrete. "I'll ask again. Where. Is. The. Girl." I repeated. "Eat shit and die, you fuckin' mutt". I groaned in annoyance.

I felt a sudden sharp pain in my ribs and was kicked to the floor. I winced in pain. Looking up I saw the hunters running away. Great. I struggled to get to my feet and made my way to my bike. I didn't even have the strength to pick it up. "Dammit!" I hissed. I need to call Diego.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. It was busted. Fucking wonderful! What fucking luck I have. I mustered up the strength to pick up my bike and hide it nearby. I'll pick it up later. There's no way I'll manage to stay on it all the way back to.the temple. I started walking. I can make it to my apartment. It's about ten minutes from here. I can make it. I can make it.

I was losing consciousness. This isn't good. I don't know when the effects of whatever was in that syringe will wear off. Until it does, I can't heal. They beat me up pretty good. After that bastard stabbed me, well, it really put me in trouble.

I stumbled into an alleyway. Leaning against the wall, I struggled to catch my breath. "Hey, you okay?". I was startled by the voice and quickly got on the defensive. It was that girl from the bar. The cute one who asked for my number. She looked a bit scared. I must look like hell. "Oh my God. We need to get you to a hospital," she said. "No! No, please. No hospitals," I responded. She looked at me, puzzled. "Just please. Don't take me to a hospital. It's not safe for me there". Hunters are everywhere. Hunters are anyone. They work regular jobs like everyone else. I bet anything there will be a few at the hospital and they'll spot me from a mile away.

She seemed hesitant to comply. "Fine. Let me help you to my place. I'll patch you up there," she said. I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden. I don't want her to get tangled up in this mess. "C'mon. If you won't let me take you to the hospital then you have to let me help you another way," she said, sternly. I was still hesitant but eventually gave in.

She helped me into her apartment and sat me down in a nearby chair. I haven't felt this kind of pain in a while. A long while. "I'll be back. Okay?". I nodded.

She came back with a first aid. "I have to uh…. I'm gonna have to take off your shirt. Okay?" she said. I nodded. She helped me take off my tank top. I could see most of the right side was blood stained. I could see the color drain from her face. "That bad, huh?"I asked. "Its uh…". She took a deep breath. "It's not great. I won't lie," she said. She started feeling around the areas I was hit pretty bad. "You got a lot of bruises… some broken ribs most likely. That's the least of your problems. Your head's busted open and you lost a lot of blood from a stab wound. I really think I should take you to the hospital". I shook my head. "I can't," I said. "Why not? You could die!". Think of something Mia. Use your bullshitting skills. "I… I don't have health insurance," I said. It wasn't a complete lie. I technically didn't. Mainly because I didn't need it since I just heal on my own.

She sighed. "Alright. Just… don't die on me. Please?". I chuckled. "I won't". She started cleaning the blood off and dressing the wounds.

Most of my scar was covered by blood so when she cleaned it, I could tell she was taken aback. I'm sure it didn't do much for my already frightening appearance.

She finished patching me up. Hopefully that stuff would wear off soon. Then I can fully heal and not worry about bleeding out, especially here. "So, what happened?" she asked. "Usually, people ask my name before they ask why I look like hot garbage," I joked. She chuckled. "Not sure this is the right time to flirt. You're practically dying". I shrugged. "I couldn't think of a better time. Especially if I flirting with the person who might have saved my life," I said. She rolled her eyes. "Do I get to know the name of my savior?". She smiled at me, sweetly. "Lana". "Mia. Nice to formally meet you," I said. "Likewise. So, what's the deal with you looking like 'hot garbage'?" Lana asked. "I was jumped by a few guys. Guess they just wanted to beat someone up," I answered.

She didn't look convinced. Man, she probably thinks I'm in a gang. Ah shit, she probably thinks I'm part of the yakuza or something! Dammit! "I know what you're thinking. I'm not into anything bad. I'm not a criminal. I'm not a bad person," I rambled. I wasn't exactly sure about that. If I wasn't a bad person. If I wasn't a criminal. I've killed people. I would've killed those hunters if I had the ability to do so.

"Hey. I won't make judgments about someone I just met. I'd like to know you better before I do," Lana said. I smiled. "Better make sure I don't die then," I joked. She laughed. "I'll let you rest. If you need something, don't hesitate to ask". "Thank you, Lana".

A few hours past. The pain had gone away. My wounds had healed. Thinking about it, I don't think this was a good way to meet Lana. Bleeding out in her apartment. Then she see that everything's healed. How am I going to explain that?

I gathered everything that was proof I was here last night. If I can make her think I wasn't here, then we can start this over. I could just tell her she probably had a crazy dream.

[popatochisssp]

Fur a Good Time, Call... 4/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus Chapter Warnings: none

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

Bone Appétit

You’d always known your lack of etiquette-related knowledge was going to get you into trouble.

…alright, well, maybe not always, but you’d had a feeling that not knowing Proper Adulting Protocols might be a problem for you at some point and done absolutely nothing about it, so your current predicament was entirely your fault.

It had all started with Papyrus.

You had sent him a text shortly after your first meeting, asking after his availability to meet up—and he’d immediately called you back.

Unlike his brother, who was happy to text at all hours of the day and night, it turned out that Papyrus was more of a phone person who would always just rather talk.

To be fair, it was a lot easier for you to tell him all about the nice little park nearby that you knew about over the phone, and it had made for a pretty damn cinematic reunion spot for you and Buddy when you all finally made time to meet.

It made you smile to remember the way your dog friend had gone absolutely fucking nuts when he saw you for the first time in over a week, wiggling and whining and straining so hard against his harness to get to you that if it had been anyone but Papyrus holding his leash, you might’ve been worried.

You’d already pretty much known it, but you’d since confirmed the undeniable truth: Papyrus was a really cool guy!

Your little park hangouts started to become a regular thing and even considering you had a dog as a social buffer, the conversation between you came so naturally that you think becoming friends with this skeleton was an inevitability, with or without Buddy.

Papyrus was genuinely incredible at carrying a conversation. He filled awkward spaces like a professional and introduced new topics with ease when the old ones dried up; things you felt you’d always struggled to do yourself. He was also a beacon of cheer and optimism the likes of which you’d never met and it seemed like just being near him was enough to brighten your mood on a rotten day.

That may have been another family trait. Sans had a similar effect on you, only he didn’t even have to be in the room with you to do it. You doubt that from anyone else, a picture of a baked potato fallen on the carpet and the single word ‘dang’ texted at 1:47 AM could’ve brought you to literal tears of laughter like it did coming from Sans.

You: Oh no, that’s so sad!

PUNbelievable: [IMG-42]

You: OMG, you’re still eating it?! Pick the dust-bunny off, first!

PUNbelievable: can’t, it’s fiber.

You: No!!!

Among other things, Sans was a great catalyst for a lot of your chats with Papyrus—when topics of his schoolwork got too technical for you to follow, or the latest news in monster politics and what negotiations King Gerson was involved in ran thin, Sans was always a staple to fall back on.

If Sans loved to gush about his brother, then Papyrus loved to gossip about his in equal measure, something you took full and shameless advantage of.

PUNbelievable: hey, why’d you tell Papyrus about the garlic powder sweetener thing? i thought we were cool?

You: You think you can put garlic in your coffee, choke on the first sip, and then try to insist to me that it’s better that way and down the whole thing and I WOULDN’T tell your brother you did it?

You: Besides, he told me how you only started drinking ketchup as a gag and then got hooked, I felt like I owed him a funny story back.

PUNbelievable: oh my god, you’re ganging up on me. i feel so attacked right now.

PUNbelievable: [IMG-54] look, your son is heartbroken that you could be so evil.

You: What were you holding above your head to make Buddy do that face for you?

PUNbelievable: pizza.

You: Well did you give him any?

PUNbelievable: lil bit.

It was talking about Sans that had gotten you into this situation, though.

“You Go To The Same Place For Lunch Every Day?” Papyrus had asked, somewhat incredulous. “Wowie, It Must Be Quite The Restaurant!”

You had paused in the middle of pressing smooches to Buddy’s forehead, turning to the big lanky skeleton squished onto the park bench beside you. “Well, it’s cheap,” you admitted, “which is most of it, but Sans and I really like it so yeah, I guess it’s good!”

Papyrus was suddenly squinting at you from behind his glasses. “Wait. Sans Likes It? Oh No, It’s A Grease-Trap, Isn’t It?”

“Ehhh…” You couldn’t really find the words to deny it. None that weren’t outright lies, anyway.

“Oh My God, That’s Terrible!” Papyrus lamented, a hand pressed dramatically to his skull. “You Can’t Live On Grease! Well… You Can, But You Really Shouldn’t! Do You At Least Eat Actual Food For Dinner?”

You had snorted, ruffling Buddy’s fur. “Actual food as opposed to… what, fake food?”

“Yes!” Papyrus had thrown a toy for Buddy to fetch and your only hope of distraction had practically sprinted out of your hands after it. “Frozen Meals, Microwaved Stuff, Things You’d See In A Gas Station Convenience Store And Wonder If It’s Marked Down So Low Because It Expired Two Years Ago.”

“………” Papyrus had just described half of your kitchen and pantry. “Well…”

“Oh My God,” he’d sighed. “I Suppose I Should’ve Known If You’re Friends With My Brother, But If You’re My Friend, Too, You Can’t Eat Garbage AllThe Time! I Can’t Allow It!”

Your little traitor returned and you’d busied your hands playing tug-of-war with his toy. “I don’t have many other options,” you told Papyrus. “I’m no chef and I like to have something actually edible after work, so it’s kinda pre-made or nothing.”

Papyrus had looked thoughtful for a long moment, and then settled firmly on a conclusion.

“Then You’re Coming Over To Our House For Dinner,” he’d declared. “When Are You Free?”

And that was the story of how you’d ended up here, at a nearby drugstore at what felt like the last possible moment, trying to figure out whether you were going to buy something or not.

You were pretty sure that housewarming gifts were still a thing, but Sans and Papyrus hadn’t just moved into their house. Were you still supposed to bring something?

It was your first time formally seeing the place, and you were going to be a dinner guest, so that was probably enough to warrant a gift…? Right?

You knew a bottle of wine was usually the go-to for things like this, but then also, neither of your friends had struck you as big drinkers. The last thing you wanted was to give them something they’d put in a cupboard and never use, but that also crossed off the only thing you knew for sure was generally expected and accepted.

You’d been aimlessly wandering around the store for awhile now, much longer than you’d wanted to be here when the whole gift-thing had occurred to you. If you kept this up, the employees were probably going to think you were here to steal something.

Okay, come on, you’re making this too hard. Just… get something small, you decided. Something they’d like, the first thing you see, just do it!

Papyrus ended up being easy enough to choose for once you forced yourself to stop over-thinking. A fuzzy desk succulent in a cute little pot had jumped out at you right away and it now sat innocently in your basket while you did one more lap around the store, looking for something to join it.

It was proving a lot harder to turn off your brain and just pick something for Sans, though, which frustrated you to no end.

(It had surely nothing at all to do with your very small and totally negligible crush on the guy, and how you wanted to somehow impress him with a thoughtful gift that you carefully chose in ten minutes on the way over to his house.)

Sans is a simple guy, you reasoned with yourself. This should be easy, just think of what he likes!

Well, obviously, Sans liked food, but it seemed a little gauche to bring snacks to a homemade dinner.

He liked cats, but there wasn’t exactly a surplus of cat-related merchandise here. Besides, it felt a little like a betrayal to bring a cat-thing to the house where your dog-son, as Sans kept insisting, lived full-time.

God, what else does he like?!

You were near some office supplies now and sighed deeply. You were unlikely to find anything good over here unless Sans had some deep, abiding love for colorful paperclips that he never told you about.

You had almost completely turned away from the aisle when you saw the basket of paperweights.

As soon as you picked up one of the smooth stones and read the ‘motivational’ text on it, you knew.

“It’s perfect.”

The weight plopped into your basket and you happily hurried up to the front to pay for your items.

All you had to do now was get there on time, and you were golden.

-

You actually managed to be early! Stress really did fudge your perception of time, apparently.

Papyrus had given you great directions and you found the house without any trouble. It was a little small but in good repair and in the middle of what seemed to be a very nice neighborhood.

You’d been assured you’d know which house to go to as soon as you saw it, and with the cute string of fairy lights wrapped decoratively around the fence of just one abode you were pretty sure you were in the right place.

With your gifts in hand you go up to the door and knock, hoping you’re not too early and no one’s ready to answer the door.

You shouldn’t have worried, of course: ‘too early’ is an oxymoron for Papyrus who throws the door open and greets you with his usual enthusiasm right away.

“Welcome To Our Home!” he says, ushering you inside. “It’s Such A Pleasure To Have You Over!”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” you agree. You’d seen more of the inside of this place than the outside, through pictures, but it was so much nicer to see it in person. Their house had such a warm, homey vibe to it that just didn’t come through in background glimpses on your phone.

A vibe that was totally disrupted when Papyrus very loudly announced to no one that you’d arrived.

Oh, maybe not no one. The pronouncement of your name had claws skittering distantly on some tile and much, much closer the snort of somebody just waking up.

Buddy burst into the room to wiggle excitedly at your feet just in time for a very sleepy-looking Sans to sit up and lean over the couch he’d been napping on and wave a little ‘hey.’

He might’ve almost looked cool doing it if his hoodie-string hadn’t found its way into his eye-socket sometime during his nap and he had to awkwardly fish it out right in front of you.

“Sweet dreams?” you couldn’t help but tease.

“nah, i don’t dream,” Sans said distractedly. He spotted the objects in your hands. “what’cha got there?”

“Oh, I brought gifts!”

“Oh My Goodness, How Courteous,” Papyrus exclaimed. “You Certainly Didn’t Have To Do That!”

“They’re small,” you promised. “It’s just a little ‘thank you’ for having me over!”

You held out the succulent to Papyrus, who gasped loudly.

“Oh, Very Little!” He took it from you and held it up to admire it. The plant in its tiny ceramic pot had fit in your palm, but Papyrus could hold it in just the tips of his long bony fingers. “It’s So Cute! And Thoughtful! Thank You, I Love It!”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t seen Sans’ gift.”

You passed the paperweight over to a curious Sans, still hanging over the back of the couch.

He took one look at it and immediately dissolved into ugly, wheezing laughter that made you downright giddy with pride.

While he was losing his shit, he helpfully flipped it over to show his brother the writing on it.

‘NOTHING IS WRITTEN IN STONE’

“Nyeh-Heh-Heh, Oh No, That’s Great, Too!” Papyrus assured you. “I Love Irony!”

“it’s perfect, i’ll cherish it forever.”

You smiled…and then the sight of Sans holding the rock sparked an elusive memory in your head.

“Like you cherished Rocky?”

Sans had been lucky until now. Even once you’d started hanging out with Papyrus on the regular, you always seemed to forget to ask about the fabled ex-pet and cursed yourself at home later for letting it slip your mind again and again.

Not this time!

“Oh My God, I Should’ve Known That Would Come Up Sooner Or Later.”

You watched Papyrus kneel, fondly brushing over Buddy’s fur. “Listen,” he said to you, very seriously. “I Promise You, You Don’t Have To Worry About Our Dog’s Safety.”

“…” Wait, what? “I don’t?”

“Not At All! Buddy Is Being Very Well Taken Care Of Here, I Am In Charge Of His Mealtimes,” he told you with a pointed glare at his brother. “And Buddy Is Never Outside Without A Leash Or In-Yard Supervision, So There Is No Chance Of A Rocky Repeat!”

…oh my god.

“Oh, that’s…good to know,” you managed to get out. “Very comforting.”

“Good, I Strive To Be Comforting At All Times!” Papyrus stood, his attention back on his new little succulent. “Please Excuse Me For A Moment, I Need To Put This Where It Will Get The Best Light.”

And then Papyrus went off to squirrel his gift away, totally oblivious to the turmoil he’d just caused in your mind.

“…………Oh my god.”

Sans lost it again, practically cackling at you even as he pocketed his newest rock.

“Rocky was real?!”

“i told you he was,” Sans snickered, shaking his head. “you really gotta start trustin’ me more, jeez.”

Your mind was blown. Your world-view shaken.

Clearly, the only solution was to pet a dog.

You went around to the front side of the couch and plopped down on the floor where Buddy immediately swarmed over to you now that you were on his level.

“Hi, Buddy, good boy,” you cooed, letting him sniff and lick at your face. “At least you make sense.”

You may have gotten a little absorbed in scritching and snuggling because eventually Sans interrupted. “hey, i’m here, too, y’know.”

You spared him a sidelong glance. “What, you want a belly rub, too? Ear scratch?”

“sounds like a neat trick, wanna try it?”

He actually leaned down a little bit, tilting his head in invitation. You laughed but…what the hell, why not? If he was cool with it…

You reach up and give the unbroken side of his head a little scratch. You think this might be the first time you’ve actually touched him without cloth in the way and the texture of his skull is a lot smoother than you would’ve guessed; more polished and almost soft. Your nails don’t catch on any scrapes or divots at all and you wonder if all his bones feel the same way.

Which is… wow, a lot more suggestive-sounding than you intended it.

Feeling needlessly bashful about it, you pull your hand back. “How was that?”

Sans didn’t seem quite so affected. “for an ear scratch with no ears involved? it was great, a for effort.”

“Gee thanks,” you scoffed. “See if I go for the belly rub after a rousing motivational speech like that!”

There’s not much small-talk to make waiting for Papyrus to get back. You had both just seen each other at the shelter earlier in the day and not much has come up to talk about in the handful of hours you’ve been apart.

Sans does tell you that his brother has been looking forward to this dinner all week, though, and he thanks you for coming.

Unnecessary, as far as you’re concerned. “What, like I’m gonna turn down dinner at my three best friends’ place? Come on.”

And oh, look at that, you’d made Sans blush again. Stars, it was downright adorable the way he turned blue and pretended like he totally wasn’t, with that shy little, ‘eheheheheh’ of his.

He really had to quit doing that. It wasn’t exactly helping you forget about your crush that definitely wasn’t a big deal at all.

Papyrus saved you both with his return. He didn’t ask or even seem to notice anything unusual about the fact that you were on the floor with the dog, and you admired his ability to roll with the punches.

“There, All Settled! Now, As Much As I Admire And Appreciate Your Earliness, It Does Mean That Dinner Isn’t Quite Ready Yet…”

“That’s fine, I’m not in a hurry!” you assured.

“Well, That’s Good, Because Even If You Were, It Wouldn’t Cook Any Faster!”

“Is there anything I can do to help out?”

Papyrus seemed visibly startled. “Really? You Want To?”

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind. I’m not great in the kitchen but I do have an extra pair of hands, if they’d help. Besides,” you added, “I think I’d get antsy sitting around not helping while you did all the work!”

Papyrus clasped his hands over his chest and fixed you with a beaming smile. “I Knew There Was A Reason I Liked You!” he said. “Sans, Take Notes, This Is The Thing You Need To Practice.”

At the mere mention of doing something, Sans flopped back onto the couch. “yeah, okay, cool, i’m note-taking right now.”

Papyrus squinted at him. “You’re Going To Sleep Again.”

“nah, i’m takin’ the notes on my eyelids.”

“You Don’t Even Have Eyelids!”

A loud snore was Sans’ response.

You laughed even as Papyrus let out the most comically frustrated noise you’d ever heard.

You’d only hung out with these guys separately before and you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for how hilarious they were together.

“Come on, Pap,” you chuckle, getting to your feet. “Leave him be, he did some stuff at work today. Let’s go check on dinner.”

Papyrus relents and you follow him into the kitchen, where it looks like he’s making pasta.

You’re a little relieved—that’s a pretty easy dish that even you can help with, so you ask him what he’d like for you to do.

Your job, he tells you, is to watch the noodles and stir occasionally until they’re ready. He’ll be busy throwing together the accompanying salad, apparently made up of veggies from his very own garden.

If he was trying to impress you, he’s absolutely succeeded.

You alternate between watching the noodles cook and watching Papyrus chop fresh greens. His cuts are swift and even with obvious skill behind them and you feel like this man could’ve easily become a professional chef.

“Sans said you don’t cook much these days,” you said. “I think I feel a little honored that you’re doing it now just so I didn’t go home and eat a frozen gas station burrito instead.”

“Ugh.” Papyrus paused mid-slice, looking to the ceiling as if begging for divine intervention. “I Knew, I Knew You Were Eating Crud Like That.” He pointed the knife in his hand at you, mock-threatening. “You Better Not Let Me Catch You With That Garbage!”

You raised your hand, a parody of scouts’ honor. “I solemnly swear, Papyrus, you will not catch me.”

He sighed. “That’s The Best I’m Going To Get, Hmm?” You playfully shrugged and he went back to chopping a cucumber. “Well, Fine. But Of Course I’m Going To Cook If You’re Coming Over To Visit! It’s A Very Important Step In Friendship-Building, You Know!”

“Is it?”

“The Most Important! I Used To Make Spaghetti All The Time Underground, Literal Oodles Of Noodles! My Friend Taught Me The Recipe And Our Cooking Lessons Were Wonderful Bonding Experiences!”

“Wow, that must’ve been some good spaghetti.”

“Oh, Not At All,” Papyrus told you. “It Was Terrible, She Didn’t Know The Recipe, Either. But We Had Fun Making It Anyway!”

You stifled a laugh. “Why’d you keep making it if you guys didn’t even know how?”

“Cooking Underground Was Much Harder Than It Is Up Here, With All Your Syndicated Food Shows On TV And Those Recipe Blogs On Your Human Internet,” he said, flapping his hand dismissively. “We Had A Cooking Program That Aired Sometimes, But It Was Pretty…Erm…Unique. Not Very Replicable In One’s Own Home. And We Had The Undernet, But It Was A Lot Better For Social Media Than Anything Else. Basically, If You Wanted To Learn How To Make Something, Your Best Bet Was To Know Someone Who Already Knew How To Make It And Have Them Teach You.”

“And if you didn’t?” you wondered.

“Trial And Error! And Lots Of It!” He grinned a little. “Honestly, It Was Mostly Error, But It Was Hard Finding People To Taste-Test And Give Useful Suggestions. All I Had Was Sans, And I’m Sure You Know By Now, He’s Disgusting. I’ve Seen Him Eat Mayonnaise With A Spoon, Directly Out Of The Jar. I Can’t Rely On Anything He Says As Useful Critique!”

“Garlic coffee,” you agreed, sadly shaking your head.

“Nyeh-Heh-Heh, Exactly! Please Don’t Worry About The Quality Of This Spaghetti,” he added as an afterthought, “I’ve Studied Plenty Of Actual Recipes By Now With Only The Highest Amount Of Stars Given In Reviews!”

“I wasn’t worried. I’m sure Master Chef Papyrus has something great cooking, literally.”

He laughed but you could tell he was flattered and patted yourself on the back for making him happy.

It seemed to you that the noodles were just about done and Papyrus came to take over the pot from you when you said as much, because he didn’t have any skin to potentially scald with hot water— unlike your poor fragile human self.

You watched him drain the noodles in a steady, practiced motion, admiring his general grace when he spoke again.

“Not That You Asked, But I Prefer Not To Keep Many Secrets From My Friends And… Well, We Are Friends, Aren’t We?”

“Definitely,” you agreed in a heartbeat.

Papyrus smiled. “Then Because You’re My Friend, I Don’t Mind Telling You That The Reason I Don’t Cook As Much As I Used To Is That I Have Some…” He paused a moment. “Well, The Word My Therapist Used Was ‘Trigger,’ Is That A Term That People Use Outside Of Therapy?”

You try to school your expression to something neutral at the sudden turn. “Yeah, it is.”

“Then I Have Some Triggers That Are Kitchen-Related, So It’s Usually Just Easier To Avoid The Situation As A Whole. For Mental Health Reasons!”

Your neutral expression fails, crumpling into a concerned frown. “Papyrus, I don’t want you risking your mental health for my sake.”

“I’m Not!” he cheerfully assures you. “It’s Only Certain Things In The Kitchen, And This Is All Very Safe. I’ve Never Had A Reaction Around Vegetables Or Pasta… Which Is Great Because I’m Not Sure I’d Know What To Do With Myself If I Couldn’t Prepare My Signature Dish For My Very Cool Friend!”

That’s a relief. “Alright, as long as you’re not putting yourself out.”

(You realize, of course, by process of elimination, that raw meat is probably the thing that triggers Papyrus. You don’t need to ask why and you don’t intend to.)

“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for your mental health,” you add, with genuine sincerity. “Do you and Sans see the same person?”

“Hmm?”

“For therapy,” you explain. “Sans doesn’t come in to the shelter every day. Is he your ride to the office on the other days? Or… are you his? I feel like you would be his, I can’t imagine him taking on that much responsibility.”

Papyrus is…suspiciously quiet, busying himself with food-plating and not meeting your eye.

You backtrack a little. “You don’t have to answer or anything, if it’s private. I totally get that, no hard feelings…”

“Mmm…Sans…” Papyrus says haltingly, “Doesn’t Go. To Therapy.”

“…Oh.”

That… wow, that really sits badly with you.

Sans is a grown skeleton. You know that, of course you do, and you especially know that you have no authority whatsoever to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do. If he’s not seeing a therapist, that’s his business and should be totally fine.

But…

You saw the news reports. When monsters had first surfaced. The pictures that came out… of the monsters who’d escaped and the desolate, horrific prison they’d escaped from…

There was no other way to put it: it was bad and everything humanity had seen of it had only been the aftermath. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of grisly day-to-day these poor people had suffered through and you weren’t alone in knowing that—there was a reason health care had been the quickest thing humanity facilitated for monsters, physical and mental.

The fact that your very good friend lived through the Underground and isn’t getting any kind of counseling…

It doesn’t feel right. You really don’t like it.

At the same time though, you’re not sure how you’d even begin to express that thought. Anything you can think to say would come off as the worst kind of pushy; like you could possibly know best at something you really knew nothing about, or had any kind of right to dictate what he should do just because you were friends.

Instead, you decide to just…bite your tongue.

Papyrus is far too sharp for you, though. Without you having to say a word, he seemed to read every thought in your facial expression with a single glance.

“No, I Know, I Agree,” he told you. “I Would Love For Him To See A Therapist, Too. It’s Really Helped Me, It Would Be Nice If He Could…. But Also…He Has His Reasons For Not Going. I Thought He Was Just Being Stubborn, At First, But… His Reasons Are Actually Good Ones.” Papyrus grimaced a bit, looking at you beseechingly. “You Said I Didn’t Have To Answer If It Was Private. Would You Be Satisfied If I Told You The Reasons Why Are Private?”

“Of course,” you agree immediately. You don’t understand what a good reason could be, in a situation like this, but if it’s private, you know it’s not your place to understand.

Papyrus looked infinitely relieved by your answer. “Then The Reasons Are Private. But, Don’t Worry Too Much About Sans, He’s Almost As Tough As I Am! He Really Has Been A Lot Better Lately, Even Just On His Own. Besides,” he added with a conspiratory smirk. “We Know He Has At Least Two Very Cool People Looking Out For Him If He Ever Needs It!”

“That…really does make me feel better,” you admit, smiling a little despite yourself. “Thanks, Papyrus.”

Sans was doing okay, you assured yourself, and if he ever wasn’t, you’d be there to help. You and Papyrus both!

You share that pleasant moment of solidarity and then you’re moving on. The food has to get to the dinner table somehow and tall as he is, Papyrus only has two hands and you’d promised him an extra set.

It makes you audibly snort in surprise when on the way, Papyrus wakes Sans by kicking the edge of the couch and yelling, “Sans, You Lazybones, Wake Up! Your Friend Is Over For The Very First Time And You’re Going To Snore On The Couch All Night?”

“nah, I can snore at the table, too,” Sans mutters, rubbing his face and finally rolling off the cushions onto his feet. “i’m versatile like that.”

“You’re Impossible, Is What You Are, You Bipedal Snail!”

The bickering is almost jarring from how warm and concerned Papyrus had been about Sans just a few minutes ago, but the affection in both moments is obvious enough, if you know where to look for it.

Little brothers, you think with amusement.

Sans meets your eye on the way to the table and you get the sense that he’s having the same thought. You share a smile and he shrugs as if to say, ‘what’re you gonna do?’ before you all sit down for a delicious meal.

You almost lose your mind when Papyrus places a bowl of kibble at the fourth place setting and Buddy hops up into a chair like he’s done it a million times before, chowing down with the rest of you.

You want to take approximately ten thousand pictures of it, but Papyrus wasn’t kidding when he said he’d been studying recipes so you also really do not want to stop eating what is probably The Best Spaghetti You’ve Ever Had.

Dinner conversation is filled with effusive compliments to the chef from everyone. Or, you, at least. Sans is complimentary, but you’re not sure he has it in him to be effusive, and Buddy literally couldn’t speak.

He’d stared puppy-dog-eyes at everyone still eating and drooled a considerable puddle into his bowl after he finished his kibble, though, which was…sort of a compliment?

At some point, the topic of work had come up and Papyrus spoke a bit about his part-time job at the home improvement store. You learned that he was exceedingly coveted in the lumber department for his ability to just pick up giant boards and planks when it took several of his smaller human coworkers to accomplish the same task.

You also learned that one of said coworkers had mentioned she had negative vacation time allotted. “…And I Was Sure To Clarify If She Was Speaking Hyperbolically, But She Was Entirely Serious. Negative Time Off! I Feel Like That Shouldn’t Be Allowed, Don’t You?”

Taking off so many days that you owe your employer your time? “That doesn’t seem right,” you agree. “It feels kind of shady of your boss to allow that, but I don’t know. I can’t really imagine taking that much time off that I’d be in the red. The last time I took off was…ha, well, that week our manager forced me to take off, right before you started, Sans.”

You realized that somehow, that story had never come up when Sans looked at you with wide eye-sockets and a dawning grin. “wait, wait, hold up, she made you go on vacation? like she told you that you had to stay home for a week?” At your confirmation, he snickered. “oh my god, that’s the funniest thing i ever heard, that’s so you.”

You weren’t blind to the humor in the situation. You laugh at yourself a little along with him, but Papyrus interjects.

“I Would Never Take A Vacation!”

The conviction in his tone gives you pause. “Wait, really? Never?”

“Not For Any Reason!”

Sans chuckles. “you’re so intense, bro,” he said fondly. “it’s awesome.”

“…Well, now, I kinda want to make you go on vacation,” you admit.

You recognize the hypocrisy—you had certainly never really wanted to take time off when you had so much you felt you needed to do at work—but something about Papyrus’ firm stance just gave you the urge to be contrary.

Besides, it isn’t as if these skeletons don’t deserve a break or a trip or something. They’ve been up here for more than a year and haven’t gone anywhere else? That’s just a damn shame!

If you knew these guys at all, though, you knew you’d never get them going anywhere if you couldn’t convince Papyrus first. Sans was a homebody in the extreme and you’d need his brother on board to have any hope of dragging him somewhere out of his way.

“Isn’t there someplace you’d want to go?” you ask Papyrus. “Just to visit? Anywhere at all?”

“None Come To Mind!” Papyrus insists. “And I Certainly Wouldn’t Want To Request Time Off For It!”

You think you have your plan, at those words.

“You don’t work weekends, do you?”

Sans props his elbow on the table, looking casual but his hand is suddenly covering as much of his ever-widening smile as possible. He’s clearly already figured out where you’re going with this, and you’re grateful he’s sorta trying to shut up about it.

“No!” Papyrus answers, almost petulantly. “They Wouldn’t Let Me. And I Don’t Have Any Classes Either, Weekends Are The Worst! There’s Only So Many Weeds I Can Pull In The Garden Until There Aren’t Any More Weeds To Pull, And The Best Soap Operas Are Only During The Week, Which Is Prejudiced Somehow, I’m Sure!”

“I don’t work this weekend, either. We should do something. Y’know, for the sake of doing something instead of just laying around all weekend.”

Papyrus squints at you. You realize he’s also figured out what you’re up to.

“……Hmm, A Trap, Obviously. And Not Even A Very Clever One, I’m Afraid. You’re Clearly Trying To Trick Me Into Some Sort Of…Vacation-ry.”

“Is it really a vacation if you don’t take any leave for it, though?” you debate. “If you drove somewhere for a couple hours and then came back, you wouldn’t call that a vacation.”

“Alright, Definitional Nuance, Getting More Clever,” he concedes. “And Where Would This Hypothetical Not-A-Vacation Take Place?”

“Maybe that could be a surprise?”

You’ve never seen Papyrus look pissed before. “Ooh, Curses, I Love Surprises! Alright, Fine! You’ve Shanghaied Me, But Only If I Get To Drive!”

Fantastic, you hated driving distances. “Deal!”

-

Dinner ended and Papyrus went around collecting the dishes to wash—but this part he insists is the host’s duty and encourages you to sit with Sans and bask in the glow of a delightful dinner.

You can’t even make a sassy remark at that, it really was delicious. Instead, you plop yourself down onto the plush couch cushions right next to Sans.

“And Stars Above, Sans, Entertain Them!” Papyrus admonishes his brother. “You’re Technically A Host, Too, You Know!”

“yikes, that raises a whole host of problems”

You snicker.

“Oh My God, That Wasn’t Even Good! You’re Lucky They Like You!”

And with that way too accurate final statement that you hope nobody is thinking about as hard as you are, Papyrus was back off to the kitchen.

“Don’t listen to him,” you say to Sans, “I think you’re funny.”

“oh don’t let ‘im fool you, he does too,” Sans says, winking like he’s letting you in on a secret. “he just hates to give me an easy laugh. wants me to put more effort into my jokes instead of goin’ for the low-hanging fruit.”

“Sounds like he’s not berry grapeful for your zesty sense of humor.”

“it’s enough to make a guy meloncholy,” Sans agreed. “it’s the pits, actually, but I understand his raisining.”

You laugh and then a brilliant idea strikes you. You hurriedly whip out your phone and gesture for Sans to come closer so he can see your screen.

He watches over your shoulder as you pull up your contacts list and change ‘Papyrus’ to ‘PAPaya.’

Sans laughs, his deep baritone laugh that you can physically feel, especially when he’s sitting so close to you. It hits you anew how goddamn big he is when you realize that even though you’re sitting down on the same couch, the top of your head doesn’t even clear his shoulder.

“Is it ever weird for you?” you blurt, suddenly curious. Sans doesn’t answer, but his expression goes confused. You quickly add, “Being friends with me, I mean.”

That didn’t seem to clear anything up. “…because… you’re human?”

“No, no, the… the size difference. Is it weird?”

“oh. i dunno, i never thought about it before?” He scratches at his cheek a little, pondering the new concept. “i mean, most humans i met have been kinda small. i don’t think you’re that much different….”

You feel like he’s not giving the matter the appropriate amount of consideration. Driven by the need to prove your point, you wordlessly take his hand and flatten your palm against his.

(It’s definitely for size-comparison reasons. It has nothing to do with wanting to hold his hand.)

As soon as his big red eye-light falls on the sight of your hands pressed together, he snorts and starts laughing again. “oh my god, never mind, i take it all back, you’re teeny, what the fuck.”

“I am not, you’re just huge!”

You must not have said it very convincingly. “i can almost close my hand,” he giggled. “oh my god? this is hilarious.”

His fingers fold over yours a little bit and you definitely don’t spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the way it feels. It seems like all the scrapes and nicks you were expecting on his skull are down here instead and the scratchy roughness is a fascinating texture against your skin. You’d love to explore it more, but friends didn’t really stroke each other’s hands just because, and you don’t want to be weird.

You pull your hand away. “Come on, don’t be a jerk about it!” you say, shoving away from him playfully.

“aww, okay, you’re right, i’m sorry.” He grabs your sleeve and tugs you back toward him. “c’mere, bring it in, apology-hug.”

You hug him.

It’s almost like being totally enveloped in him— he’s unfairly huge and his arms around you practically block out everything else, even when your own arms can’t even reach all the way around his broad-set rib cage. You do your best and find that his bones are hard against your body, which you’d expected, but not poking anywhere or really even uncomfortable, which you hadn’t.

He’s warm and he smells exactly like you’d have guessed he smelled, like ketchup and dryer sheets, but surprisingly, it isn’t gross. It’s…homey. Comfortable.

You’re a little startled by how much you like it and the thought makes you realize you don’t actually know how much time has passed since this hug started.

Has it been just a few seconds or more than a few seconds? He’d have nudged you away if it was too long, right?

Should…should you pull back first?

Is this awkward now?

Sans seems to answer all of your questions in one fell swoop…by setting his chin down on top of your head to emphasize how tiny you are.

Clearly his plan all along.

“Oh, you fucker, get off me!”

You wriggle out of the hug and he lets you go. One brief second of eye-contact is all it takes to set you both off.

The two of you are laughing like loons by the time Papyrus comes back from doing the dishes.

He proceeds to tell you all the proper hostly things— that it was a lovely evening, and they loved having you over, and you all must really do this again sometime, future Not-A-Vacations notwithstanding—and you know it’s about time for you to be heading out.

It’s getting late and it’s a weeknight, so you and Sans have work in the morning and Papyrus has an early class to attend, so you completely understand. Papyrus gives you a wonderfully large tupperware of leftover spaghetti to take home with you and walks you to the door with Buddy trailing after you.

You say your goodbyes to him, and to Papyrus, and you turn to Sans to do the same.

He cuts you off.

“hey,” he says, leaning casually against the wall like the coolest guy in school in every teen movie and staring down at you with lidded eyes. “can I come with?”

Oh boy. Wow.

As it turns out, you are not prepared for the things you feel when you’ve got your crush looming over you, asking to come home with you for the night.

“Uh….” You try your hardest to cover how flustered you suddenly feel and let your mouth fill the awkward space. “I, uh, I wasn’t really planning on doing anything else tonight? I was really just gonna go home and sleep, I feel like there are, heh, better times for a hangout?”

Sans laughs and for one terrifying moment, you thought it was at you. “nah, no, you’re right,” he says. “sorry, i literally just meant coming to your house, wasn’t plannin’ on staying more than a minute.”

Your confusion is apparent enough that he continues. “you’ve seen me take shortcuts, right?” he asks. “y’know, when i’m someplace and then i’m not, ‘cause i’m someplace else?”

Oh, yeah, that neat little trick. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do it a couple times.”

“well it only works if i been somewhere before. so if i tag along with you, you can leave your car at home next time an’ i can just drop you off.”

Right. Yes, obviously, that makes sense.

“Convenient,” you say out loud. “Sure, let’s go.”

-

The drive home isn’t nearly as awkward as you worried it would be.

It’s actually… very nice.

You don’t talk much because you’re feeling a lot of feelings that need some time to be processed, but it wasn’t like Sans was talking, either. The pleasant weather was holding strong and you had the windows down, so the skeleton in your passenger seat was leaning against the door and staring totally absorbed at the moon while the warm night air blew past his skull.

Even in mostly uninterrupted silence, you find that you just feel comfortable with Sans and that’s something you really like.

You get home almost too quickly and Sans asks if he can come inside, “just to see the place, real quick, you know me, last thing i wanna do is stand between you and sleep.”

You didn’t have time to clean up or anything before you left the house, so it’s not as neat as it could be, but you don’t feel particularly embarrassed. You’ve seen enough photos of the inside of Sans’ room to know there’s no comparison.

Your house is just your house, not very big or painfully small, not insanely messy or hyper-clean. You feel like it’s an accurate reflection of you: just average.

“Got what you needed?” you ask Sans. “Is this enough for you to…shortcut? Or whatever?”

He seems to consider it. “let’s find out,” he says. “what time do you leave in the morning?” You tell him. “cool, I’ll pop over tomorrow, you can give me a ride to work.”

That seems…so unnecessary for somebody who can literally teleport.

You almost tell him so but he shoots you a wink and shortcuts out right before your eyes.

You take a deep breath and huff it out in one long exhale.

After a minute, you go to put the leftover spaghetti in the fridge before you forget about it.

It would be a shame to let Papyrus’ cooking go to waste just because you were getting all tied up in knots over his unaccountably charming brother.

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