#the package sitting on my desk trying to remember if i ordered anything lately and it turns out it’s them!

[luvuomi]

WAHHH THE FONTAINE SIBLINGS ARE REUNITED AT LAST🥹

[awindylife-writes]

Sick

Relationships: 10th Doctor x reader (Not an established relationship)

Summary: the Doctor and you find yourselves on a spaceship in desparate need of repair and you are determined to help the crew (Kaisa, Lincoln and Bressa), but then the ship also gets highjacked. And on top of that, you fall sick.

Warnings: you're in mortal danger but that's it

You were standing by the big metal desk in the middle of the room, reading the numbers to Kaisa so he could type them in.

The digits kept swimming in your vision. They were blurry, everything was blurry, but they also kept moving. And when did it get so hot? You wiped the sweat from your forehead while trying to breathe deeply. You knew that if you looked up from the pad, the room would be spinning. The worst part was the tiredness. It coiled through your limbs and made them so heavy you could hardly move them. The effort to keep connecting letters and sounds, keep connecting thoughts hurt.

You closed your eyes for a second and the ship tilted so far you lost your balance. You stumbled back, eyes flying open and arms trying to reach out for something to hold onto.

Suddenly there were strong hands on your shoulder and the small of your back, steadying you. You looked up and recognized the dark orange skin and curly brown hair that was greying at the edges. Kaisa had caught you.

"Are you alright?" his gruff voice came to you.

"Yeah, yeah l'm okay." That sounded weak even to your own ears. "The ship just tilted."

"The ship's fine, love," he answered in confusion. You could see furrowed eyebrows, and then his dark golden eyes. You couldn't make out the wrinkles around them, or the lines on his forehead. Everything was blurry.

He put one hand around you to hold you up, then felt your forehead with the other. It was blessedly cold and you leaned into it with a sigh. "I think humans aren't supposed to be this hot," his worried voice came then.

You could hear Lincoln and Bressa turn around and step closer. You would have cracked a joke about drinks first if you weren't about to ask to sit down from exhastion. But you all had a job to do.

"I'm okay," you tried to reassure him. "Let's just get back to-" As you stepped away from Kaisa to shake his hands off, the ground rushed up and you barely caught yourself on the table. His arms were back, supporting you, before you could fall further. Shit.

"You're sick," Kaisa confirmed with a voice full of worry. He gently pulled you from the table and towards the wall. "Here, sit down," he told you softly and manouvered you to a stack of crates. He helped you sit on one and you rested your head on the taller pile.

"Thanks," you breathed gratefully and closed your eyes.This is nice.

On the other side of the room you could just hear Bressa order Lincoln, "Go get the Doctor. Tell him y/n's sick." Her voice was grave.

~

The Doctor had just recalibrated the fiberlinks of the navicomputer and was well on his way of taking apart the integral protonic bond when Lincoln reached him. The Doctor didn't even pull his head out of the ship's innards, much less stood up. "What is it?" He didn't have time for this.

"Your friend," the young man's distressed voice came. "She's sick."

That made worry explode in his chest. Ice spread through his veins as he hurriedly pulled himself out of the wiring. He hit his head on the way but that didn't matter, not when y/n was-

"What did you say?" the Doctor demanded in a low voice, eyes scanning the Tirellian crewmate.

"Y/n is sick." The Doctor marked every blink, every twitch, every line. He did not like the worried frown on Lincoln's face. He had gotten his answer.

The Doctor put the sonic back in his inner pocket and demanded, "Where is she?", voice forcibly calm but unrelenting. He picked up his coat as the young man turned to show the way, and off they went.

~

When your eyes were closed, you could almost pretend you were fine, but the fever, the heat in your skin was killing you. The box on your cheek and forehead had warmed up and provided no more relief.

You could feel even the darkness around you spin if you tried to think.

~

The Doctor ran into the room after Lincoln, trench coat billowing around him.

"Where is she?" he demanded in worry with his gaze searching the room.

"Over here." Kaisa stood up from behind the large metal table and pointed at the stack of crates beside the wall. He stepped back towards the others as the Doctor came to kneel before you with his coat scraping the floor. His hands hovered just inches above your skin.

"Y/n," he breathed quietly while looking you over. His hand settled on your arm. Scarlet cheeks, sweat - fever, eyes closed, leaning on the crate - exhausti-

You tiredly opened your eyes but you didn't lift your head. "Doct'r." The regret was already in your voice. "'M sorry. I should've-" Should have known the signs, should have slept more, should have eaten-

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he murmured softly, shaking his head. He rubbed your arm, his expression gentle and reassuring.

He took your hand and found your pulse point, which made butterflies flutter in your stomack despite the sickness. Then he lifted his other hand to your cheek. It was cold so you leaned into it, your eyes closing in content. You breathed deeply but it seemed like there was never enough air.

"You've definitely got a fever, about 39 degrees," he continued in that same soft tone. "And your heart is speeding up. How're you feeling?"

"Evr'thin's spinnin'," you told him tiredly, words a bit slurred. You tried to remember, but the things you were trying to describe made it hard to do that. "Couldn't stand up, Kaisa caught me. Couldn'read anymore, evr'thing was blurry'n moving. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, ever'thing hurts. An'l'm tired," you sighed. "I wanna go t'sleep."

"You will, l promise you will, but you need medicine first," he told you gently yet firmly. "It's the virus Tem, from Polon. We were there about four days ago, it's quite common for the planet, but it's dangerous." His brown eyes were full of worry. "If it's left untreated, as yours was, it can be deadly." He left the sentence hang in the silence after it.

You tried to shake your head but the motion caused more pain and you stopped. "So l'll get the meds and ll'l be fine," you told him tiredly. It didn't seem like much of a problem. You faced death on a daily basis, so what was a little virus?

"What do we do?" Kaisa stepped closer and looked down at the two of you, eyebrows furrowed in worry and hands crossed in front of his chest.

The Doctor moved closer and took you by the shoulders. "C'm on." He smiled encouragingly as he gently helped you stand up. You didn't like it, but the solution to this situation probably required moving.

You leaned against him and put your head on his shoulder as he helped you stay upright. The spinning did not help your stomack.

"Polonians have a vaccine, but it's far too late for that. You though, you three come from Kristella, is that right?" the Doctor looked around the room.

"Yeah," Kaisa nodded.

"So you receaved the whole med package there, including the VC five-six-o-nine."

"Yes."

"Good," he nodded, "bless the Kristellan med care. Your immune system knows the virus so you're not in danger. But you," he looked down at you, gritting his teeth, "are."

Well, that was a bit obvious.

He looked back up at Kaisa. "I want you to get her to the med bay. Give her Triskel two point three with a lot of water, she needs to stay hydrated, and then two shots of Amino when that's down, got it?"

"Yes," the large sailor nodded and stepped closer to take you. "And don't 'Got it' me, young man."

The Doctor opened his mouth to explain the whole Time Lord age thing when-

"I don't wanna go," you mumbled into his chest, pressing yourself closer. The room was spinning, you couldn't see well and you could barely stand. The thought of leaving him (he meant safe and good and you needed him) on this ship where anything could happen to you or him (who would look after him if not you?) made you want to sob.

He pulled away enough to look at you but still hold you. His eyes were soft. "I know," he told you gently and then frowned at the thought of letting you go, "l don't like this either." Every instinct in him flared against leaving you while you were sick and in need of him. He was Gallifreyan, and he protected what was his, even if you didn't know. "But you need medicine, and they need help rewiring the ship," he put it plainly. "I have to stay, and you have to go."

You nodded even though it hurt. He pulled you closer and for a moment, you just held each other.

"Stay safe," you said into his shoulder, almost an order. "Not a hair out of place, you hear me?"

You could feel him smile at the familiar tone. "Yes, ma'am."

It was time to go. You slowly let go of the Doctor as Kaisa came closer. He slung a hand around your waist while you put yours around his shoulders. It worked well, you could stay upright and move at the same time.

Then the whole ship shook like it was being torn apart and you were thrown against the table while Lincoln yelled in surprise. The Doctor and Kaisa kept you stable and unharmed between them, but the room looked like it had survived an earthquake.

"Are you alright?" The Doctor was franctically looking you over for injuries.

"What the hell was that?" demanded Bressa.

~

Kaisa didn't know what to do. You and him were locked in one of the main storage rooms, and they hadn't even let you get medicine. The large Risonians, two out of six who had highjacked the ship, simply came into the med bay and dragged you out before he could find anything to help you. You hadn't even gotten water.

All he could do was put his jacket under your head when you couldn't sit up anymore and hold your hand as you slipped into a restless sleep.

Then he noticed the computer log in the corner behind the crates. He could rewire it, send an altering pulse through the system... He looked at you as your head turned from one side to the other as you gasped for breath, mumbling nonsense in your sleep. Your fever was rising.

"Right then, love. I'm going to get help."

~

When the Doctor noticed Kaisa's message beeping under the log, he'd been momentarily confused. He'd made it very clear to the Risonians that you needed medicine and that he would do anything to make sure you got it, so why would they-

A second later, a pair of the hijacking crew came marching into the room with guns drawn. The Commander was as shocked as him when two of her people turned against her.

This was bad.

~

The Doctor walked into the storage room with his hands behind his head, with Bressa and Lincoln behind him. What remained of the Risonian crew had been locked into a separate room, to keep you all separated. His eyes immediately scanned the space for you.

When he turned the corner behind a high stack of crates, his hearts lurched. You were unconscious, lying on the floor with Kaisa holding your hand.

The Doctor was by your side in a second. Your skin was pale, but your cheeks were scarlet and your forehead glistened with sweat. You were mumbling in your sleep, your breaths laboured. Your head was turning restlessly in the throes of a fever dream. He took your warm hand and held it tightly.

"She was asking for you," Kaisa told him softly, eyes still trained on your face.

"What?" The Doctor's gaze flew to the larger man in confusion.

Kaisa looked up at him, "She was asking for you." He searched his eyes, for what, the Doctor didn't know. "Even after she couldn't answer me anymore, she kept asking for you in her sleep."

The Doctor felt like a hand had squeezed his hearts. It happened again, he did it again, you were in danger and it was his fault. He looked down at your closed eyes and scarlet cheeks. You were helpless, you needed him, and he couldn't do anything.

He brought your hand to his cheek and held it there with his palm as he closed his eyes. He needed you to live, he needed you to be alright. You had to be.

"Doct'r," your voice was barely a whisper.

His eyes flew open and he stared down at your still sleeping form. You turned your head to the side and, "Doct'r," again his name.

It lit a blazing fire in his chest. That was it. That was it, he was getting you out. He was getting all of you out because that was what he was going to do and the universe would bloody listen. He was the Doctor, and you were his. He was not losing you, not ever.

They'd taken the sonic but he was, for all intents and purposes, in a supply closet. Time to find out exactly which supplies he had.

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Military Dog Tag Dilemma

Relationship: Stucky x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff Summary: You just want to wear the military tags of both your men but Steve seems to run into some issues. A/N: I am also always a sucker for Stucky writing ok and this was my first personal attempt at it and i thought it came out well <3

masterlist

Bucky gave you his dog togs within weeks of establishing your relationship with him and Steve.

You loved to mindlessly play with them as the three of you cuddled up in bed, enjoying some pillow talk after, particularly long days. Steve spooning you from behind as you laid on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown around you, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. Your fingers would fumble with the shiny tags, turning them over in your hand, watching the minimal moonlight hit them every now and then.

You didn’t know what it was about the tags that had you so captivated nearly every night. It felt so simple yet so intimate as you stared at your lover’s name and information engraved in them. While you weren’t exactly an expert on wartime, you knew the tags could serve as gifts to partners, assuring your heart to one another. The concept definitely drifted through your mind from time to time, but you never brought it up.

Bucky, however, seemed to be thinking the same thing. Wordlessly, one night, he slipped off the silver chain, tags clinking together musically, and slid them over your head. The coolness of them tickled your neck as the tags fell to the valley between your breasts.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was pounding as you ran your fingers around the necklace. Even Steve seemed a little shocked by the actions. But Bucky was fully pleased as evident by the cocky grin he wore watching you ogle at the gift. He had to admit — knowing you were walking around with his name dangling from your neck did something for him.

"Where are your tags, Steve?" You had asked after placing a loving, appreciative kiss on Bucky’s lips. Now that you obtained Bucky’s tags, it only seemed fitting you wore Steve’s as well.

Steve shifted. You looked up at him only to find him watching the wall across from the bed, seemingly lost in thought. "I-I’m not really sure, honey."

You let out a sad hum at the response. "Well, if you find them, let me know," you yawned, shuffling down in the bed to get comfier. "I’d like both of my men close to me all the time."

Since then, Steve had been on a mission to find dog tags. Going through archives, chain of custody notes, discarded boxes… Everything. There was just something about the entire thing that was driving Steve mad. He was honored you wanted to show off the claim your two lovers had on you but he was also deeply concerned about the fact that currently you only had Bucky’s to wear.

While Steve wouldn’t exactly call himself jealous in this situation, knowing you didn’t love him any less, the relationship was established the way it was and he felt you should still have something of his to truly show for it.

This led Steve on what felt like a manhunt for the "damn dog tags," as he kept referring to them when Bucky would check-in asking if all was okay. Nothing was really okay. He had looked high and low for them, going through every potential record in the database trying to at least confirm there was something to even look for.

He pounded his fist against the desk late one night. Steve had pushed you and Bucky to get some sleep, claiming he had some reports to look over before bed. You two had looked at him suspiciously but eventually agreed, planting loving kisses on his cheeks, and telling him not to stay up too late.

"I get cold without both of you there," you had mumbled with a sleepy yawn following. Your words almost made Steve give up for the night but then he caught a glimpse of the silver chain on your neck. Seeing you like that, using your tired, loving voice, he remembered what he was doing this for. It was you. It was all about you and your love for sentimental things.

He grudgingly agreed to be there in an hour and that seemed to please his two lovers. Except — it was way past an hour. The sky was close to daybreak when he hit the desk in frustration.

Pushing the folders away, Steve leaned back in the chair, sighing. Within seconds, footsteps came from the hall and Bucky appeared in the doorway, watching a frustrated Steve.

"Everything okay in here?" Bucky asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine," Steve nodded. "Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a bit."

But Bucky didn’t look the slightest bit convinced. He had a knowing look in his eyes which Steve tried to avoid by looking down at the now splintered desk.

"How are those reports going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed groan. Deep down he knew he couldn’t hide anything from Bucky but still, worth a shot.

He pushed all the folders away this time, leaving them at the very edge of the desk. "I did have dog tags, right?"

"That’s still bothering you, huh?" Bucky crossed the threshold into the office and made his way to one of the chairs in front of Steve’s desk. He took one of the folders and sat directly across from Steve. Casually, he thumbed through it, waiting for his partner to start talking.

Steve didn’t really want to get into it again as he had probably hounded Bucky about it all last week but acting like it wasn’t bothering him was getting him nowhere — obviously.

"Yes," Steve sighed. "I just want her to have something from each of us. It’s- It’s hard watching our girl…"

Bucky frowned, "I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve waited to give them to her."

"No, Buck," Steve leaned forward, reaching his hand out. Bucky took the signal and leaned, placing his own hand in Steve’s. "You wanted her to have them. That’s your call. I just feel disappointed I have nothing to give."

"Well…" Bucky hummed, tilting his head in thought. Steve’s eyes furrowed, trying to get his partner to spit out whatever he was thinking. "What if we ordered you new ones?"

"Can you do that?"

"I honestly don’t know," Bucky chuckled. "But I don’t understand half of what you can do these days, so, I’d imagine there’s a way to get dog tags made."

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair, disconnecting their touch. It seemed reasonable and would do the job except for the fact— "But they wouldn’t be in combat or- or from the actual military."

Bucky just shook his head. With an annoyed scoff, he said, "Do you think that really matters to her?"

"I guess not…"

"Steve, honey, I promise. It’s about the presentation, the show of it. Our girl is just looking for something personal from you to keep close to her," Bucky assured him. "Plus, I think we can get it updated and personalized. Maybe even write something nice just for her on the back."

Steve had to admit, his heart was jumping happily at the idea. He really couldn’t argue with anything and agreed to the plan. The only issue was — they were a bit out of touch with ordering anything online. You had always been the one to assure online packages and food deliveries arrived but now they had to take you out of the equation. While excited to surprise you, they were slightly unsure about ordering and had to enlist the help of the team who all turned out to be more than happy to assist once they explained their idea.

A few weeks later, you were laying in your shared bed, back against the headboard, body cozied up under the duvet. You were engrossed in a cheesy romance novel, waiting for Steve and Bucky to join you for the night. Eventually, the two came in, but they were still in their work attire.

You frowned at their appearance. "Aren’t you guys coming to bed?"

As you asked your question, you couldn’t help but note their unusual stance. The two men were side-by-side, standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at you. Bucky had his hands in his pockets while Steve appeared to be hiding something behind his back. You eyed them suspiciously.

"We will in a bit, doll," Bucky said. You watched him as he came around to the side of the bed. He sat down and leaned against the headboard, shifting right next to you, sneakily taking the book out of your grip. "But first, Steve has something for you."

"For- For me?" You asked, whipping your head around to face Steve. He had a bit of nervousness to him as he nodded, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Silently, he handed you a small box. You eagerly accepted the item, turning it over and over in your hands. Giving it a light shake, the box made a jangling noise. "What is it?" You asked, wide-eyed looking between the two men.

Steve and Bucky both let out soft chuckles at your excitement. "You have to open it to find out," Steve said. He still had an air of anxiousness, running his hands up and down his jean-covered thighs, fidgeting.

To put your poor boyfriend out of his misery, you opened the box. At first, all you noticed was something slim and shiny. Eyes furrowed in confusion, you pulled out what appeared to be a chain. You could feel a slight heaviness to it — and then you saw it. Your jaw dropped as you tossed the box next to you. In your hands was another set of dog tags nearly identical to the ones you already had adorned on your neck — only this pair were inscribed with the name Steven Grant Rogers.

"Steve-," you gasped, staring at the tags laying in the palm of your hands. You were at a loss for words as you read the tag.

"Are- Are they okay?" Steve asked, his nervous hand came up to rest on your thigh, pulling your attention back to him.

"Are you kidding me?" You let out a breathy laugh. "They’re wonderful, honey, thank you so much."

"You’re sure?" He asked again. Bucky gave him a pointed look for his ridiculousness but that didn’t stop Steve from rambling. "I-I couldn’t find mine so, I got a new pair made. I know they’re maybe not as authentic or something but I still wanted-,"

"You had these made?" You cut in. "For me?"

Steve nodded, "You had Bucky’s, so, it was only fair you had something of mine, too."

You couldn’t hold your emotions back at his word. Tears began forming as you looked at your soft, loving partner. You let out little sniffles as you turned back to the tags, still soaking in their meaning. Bucky placed a light touch on your arm as Steve scooted closer, probably suddenly scared by your tears.

"They’re perfect, honey," you whispered as you looked back at him and leaned forward, placing a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips. He eagerly accepted, practically sighing from relief under your touch. "They’re going to go perfect with the tags from my other man." You mumbled and turned to now give Bucky a kiss, who felt very pleased to get a turn to lock lips with you.

Facing Steve again, you handed him the chain. He looked down at it, confused.

"Well, soldier, are you going to put them on me?"

Both of the men chuckled at your actions but Steve happily slid the silver chain over your neck, watching as the tags fell to your chest. Once they landed, they clang nicely with Bucky’s. It sounded like music to your ears.

"I love you both so much," you said, your hand mindlessly running over the pair of tags. "Thank you."

"We love you too, doll," Bucky said. Steve nodded in agreement.

Smiling, you gave them both quick pecks and said, "Now, are you guys coming to bed?"

Bucky scoffed, "How could we ever deny you?"

You giggled. "I don’t think you can seeing as last time I checked I was a special girl."

At your words, both their gazes dropped once again to the tags hanging between your breasts, seeming so at place there.

"You sure are, honey," Steve mumbled, placing a kiss on your cheek.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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[nancywheelxr]

Word of Honor prompt where yby is wkx and zzs’s mailman. he and wkx have a feud (god only knows how it started, but neither of them want to back down first), so yby always leaves packages in the most inconvenient places. wkx tries repeatedly to report him to the mailman board or whatever, but they’re always like yby? no one named yby works here. this is unbelievably irritating to wkx because he knows yby has to work there. how tf else would he have their mail??? well turns out there was a mix up with the addresses and wkx and zzs’s mail has been being sent to yby for years. when yby went to drop off their mail the first time wkx assumed he was the mailman. this pissed yby off, so he decided to retaliate by putting their package next to the wheel of wkx’s car in hopes he’d run it over. and thus, the feud started

another galaxy brain idea, i would expect nothing less 😌

*

“Please,” Zhou Zishu says without looking up from the newspaper, “don’t throw your phone at the wall.”

There’s an angry noise, followed by the loud thud of something being slammed on the table. Better than the wall, he figures. “I wasn’t going to.”

He hums in agreement, adding pleasantly,  “of course not.” 

Is it mean not to engage like this? Maybe, but in his defense, Zhou Zishu has been forced to listen to increasingly angry phone calls for the past weeks on a daily basis, the same answer drifting from the speakers time and time again, so maybe he’s entitled to some bitchiness. 

Also, the way Wen Kexing’s face scrunches up a little, eyebrows furrowing, lips in a pout– he’s cute when he’s annoyed, so what’s Zhou Zishu suppose to do? Not antagonize him?

Case in point: a hand tugs his newspaper down and Wen Kexing comes into view, pouting in a terribly endearing way that Zhou Zishu has never been able to refuse, “A-Xu! Can’t you see I’m in distress? I’m distressed and you’re just sitting here, how heartless!”

“Is that so?” He raises an eyebrow, “I apologize for not coming to save you from the mean lady at the front desk, then. Did her answer change this time? Did someone named Ye Baiyi suddenly appear in their records?”

“No,” Wen Kexing sighs, dropping down on the couch beside him like a puppet with no strings, and Zhou Zishu goes through the motions of huffing exasperatedly, pointedly folding his newspaper, and leaving it on the coffee table. Then, he nudges him closer, a tug at his sleeves and Wen Kexing leans happily into him, face tucked neatly into Zhou Zishu’s shoulder. “I’m going to murder him,” he says.

“No felonies. Have you tried apologizing?”

“Pah,” Wen Kexing tries to sit up in outrage, but Zhou Zishu pulls him down again, hand carding through his hair, “apologize for what? He’s the one not doing his job! A-Xu, it was on the roof this time! On the roof!”

Ah, so they’re not ready for that yet, alright. “Hm. I think both of you need better hobbies.”

“A-Xu, you’re not listening, he’s my arch-nemesis!”

He opens his mouth to remind him it’s the 21st century and people don’t have arch-nemesis, but then, he remembers this is the guy who wakes up at god knows what time to leave their packages in increasingly ridiculous places. “I can’t believe you found the one person who might actually agree with you on this, what the hell.”

“What if we set out traps in the yard?” Wen Kexing muses and Zhou Zishu has a terrible feeling about this– he can foresee trips to the ER in the future and a litany of actually broken packages. 

Also: “Have you seen our children? They’ll get caught in them before Ye-qianbei does.”

“A-Xiang wouldn’t,” he says, but he doesn’t sound so sure anymore, so Zhou Zishu counts as it as a win.

“Maybe, but her boyfriend would and you promised her to stop scaring him off.”

The truth is this: a month ago they ordered a new coffee maker. It would take two days to arrive, great price, good quality. Zhou Zishu had even been looking forward to it! In hindsight, that might have been foolish, when has the universe ever made anything easy for him? No, the two days had come and gone, and on the third day, instead of enjoying as many expressos as his heart desired, he had been forced to witness the start of a trainwreck that’s been dragging ever since– Wen Kexing had been outside, gardening in a very broad sense of the word, when a man had approached their house, a package in his hands.

He had squinted at the yellow chrysanthemums Wen Kexing had been drowning with the hose. “That’s the ugliest flower I’ve ever seen.” 

“Excuse me?” Wen Kexing had smiled. It had been a terrible smile, full of teeth and no real friendliness, and Zhou Zishu had watched from the window and known with a deep-seated certainty that that would escalate out of proportion. 

The mad had scoffed. “Are you deaf besides incompetent? Whatever, just take this so I can stop looking at those flowers.”

“Incompetent?” Wen Kexing’s fingers had tightened around the hose as if he had been calculating the merits of hitting the man with the water spray, “ha! The mailman is late for his delivery and he wants to lecture me on my garden! A-Xu, come listen to this!”

“Mailman,” the man had repeated, face going blank, “the mailman.”

“A-Xu, come tell him my chrysanthemums look just fine!”

Then, he had exploded. “You brat! Who do you think you are? Have you no respect for your elders? Useless child–”

“Elder? Have you taken a look at the mirror? Get off my lawn! Out, out, out! No Old Monsters allowed!”

The man– Ye Baiyi, Zhou Zishu would learn later, after Wen Kexing had gone into his stalking spree trying to find his information to report to his alleged boss– had left. With their coffeemaker. Only to return at some point while they were inside to leave the package just behind the wheel of their car.

One month later and Zhou Zishu is yet to get his goddamn coffeemaker.

“Wen Kexing, you no-good insolent brat!” 

The yelling startles him back to the present, followed quickly by the sound of paper being ripped. At his side, Wen Kexing snickers. “I think he found the sign.”

“Sign? Is that what you and Chengling were doing in the garage last night?” 

“No Old Monsters permitted,” he recites, smug as a cat in the sun, and presses a kiss to his neck, “wasn’t it a good idea? A-Xu, I’m encouraging our son to improve his artistic skills.”

“Quit distracting me,” Zhou Zishu tugs his hair a little, “Lao Wen, you owe me so many cups of coffee.”

Wen Kexing grins, impossibly bright, ridiculously beautiful. “A-Xu ah, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, so how can there be a debt? Don’t be stingy!”

“Hm. Lao Wen is very wise, no debt between us, so he won’t mind making dinner tonight again.”

“A-Xu!” The whine comes out half laughter, and Zhou Zishu loves the sound of it, could never get tired of it, so really, he has no choice but to draw his husband closer and kiss the complaints before they even fall from his lips. 

[sabraeal]

All That Remains, Chapter 8: The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure [Part 5]

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2021, Day 3: Strength Upright: Compassion, Courage, Self-Control Reversed: Weakness, Doubt, Discord

Once upon a time, a troll makes a mirror.

Is that not how we started this story, so long ago? How so many start: a vile creature forges an object. Who and what change in the telling; a troll makes a mirror, a god conjures a box, knowledge grows in a garden. In the end, it is all the same: what is once contained is opened, unwitting. Or lost, foolishly, in a heart so cold and cruel that it becomes bent to another purpose entirely.

But that is merely an allegory, a fiction composed to cover the raw edges we leave when we rub against each other. For that is the truth, is it not? There is no fell creature, no capricious and omnipotent beings to blame for our misery. There is only us, carving our place in our story by smoothing pieces off another. A snow queen is not made from frost and cold but by the blades of others, slicing slivers from her flesh until only ice remains.

That is the truth we cannot bear: the only monsters we face are the ones we have made. The only poisons we drink are those human hands have brewed.

And it starts like this, always: a girl in a garden, remembering the image of a rose, and wondering, how could I have I forgotten?

“You were quiet at dinner tonight.” Shirayuki hasn’t been at court long-- or rather, in court, privy to all its secret signals and capricious undercurrents-- but she knows that this is as close to an “are you all right?” as Haki can come. If confrontation is only allowed the glint of a knife, affection is stifled to a hint of warmth, a fire made in a room one is forbidden to venture. “I hope that the meal agreed with you.”

A flash of pharmacy white flutters at the corner of her vision, frustratingly out of reach. It’s been so long since she’s been there, since she’s thought of anything but silverware and schottische; when she tries it’s like a hundred voices shouting at once, each demanding to be heard. Just like being at Lilias, heads bent over a knotty problem--

“Shirayuki.” The consort does not crouch; it’s best, Lady Mihoko often remind her, to pretend one has no anatomy beneath the waist. But Haki does perch on a cushioned stool, her brows drawn tight over the elegant line of her nose. “You are not...indisposed, I hope?”

A solid shake dispels the fog mired around her. “What? Oh, no! I only...” It would be a mistake to speak of loam between her fingers, of the satisfaction of hearing a pod snap from its stalk. “I didn’t have much to say with my, erm, conversational partners.”

Royal brows raise to stunned arches. “Is that so? I would have thought you’d find much in common with Lord Kazunori and Lord Seiichii.”

They had both been older men, southern lords drawn to court for Seiran’s summit. Kind enough, but they spoke to her as they would their own daughters, which is to say: warmly, but brief. Not of any topics that one might sink their teeth into, lest it leaving lines around her mouth.

“I think they were more interested in talking to each other than to me,” she admits. In part because of her sex, and in part because-- well, her body may have been in that chair, obscuring the twining gods and goddess painted across it, but her mind had been a wing away, wondering if it was yet time to harvest the roku berries, or whether this year’s crop of apprentices knew akegi from yura shigure. “It seems there’s much to discuss before they all meet for, ah...discussion.”

Haki hands her a rueful smile. “There always is.” With a sigh, she sweeps to standing, as statuesque as any marble in Wistal’s halls. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing for it. I’ll have to ask the majordomo to find you some more scintillating seatmates tomorrow.”

“Ah..!” Tomorrow. Never had a day seemed so far away, so much more than a handful of hours between dawn and dusk. At Lilias, the nights had wavered between seasons, some so short she hardly slept between sun set and rise; and others so long that she woke in darkness, only to leave the lab in the same. But still, none seemed so long as this, and for no reason at all.

“Is something wrong?” Haki turns to her again, concern rumpling the curved lines of her mouth. “Do you have plans...?”

“No!” Shirayuki rushes to assure her. “It’s only...you mentioned dinner, and suddenly I felt so...”

“Weary?” Haki offers, when she won’t. Her eyes soften with mouth to match, smile turning her from heavenly to beatific. “I’m not surprised. You have been hard at work these last few months.”

And hardly anything to show for it, in Lady Mihoko’s learned opinion. Shirayuki bites back a groan. She would be sixty before that woman found her approaching passable, and even then, she still wouldn’t be good enough for a prince’s wife. Not when his children might have some chance, no matter how slim, of seating their sullied bloodline on the throne of Clarines.

“Perhaps you have earned a break.” Shirayuki blinks, staring up into the consort’s glowing face. “A private dinner seems in order. A night of no pressure of expectation.”

It sounds too good to be true. “Oh, no! I couldn’t--”

“Give me but a moment.” Haki hesitates at the door to her boudoir, lips lifted in an impish grin. “Perhaps my good brother might find himself available as well?”

Her mouth snaps shut. It’s been ages since she saw Zen, just the two of them. He came to dinner rarely-- understandable, with the summit only weeks away, and entirely under his purview, despite Seiran’s tacit position as host-- and where he went, Mitsuhide and Kiki went too. Haki had been her closest companion these past few weeks, the only friendly face, but Shirayuki longed for someone who didn’t look at her and see a princess, but--

Nervous energy courses through her, jolting her to her feet. Her hands itch, wanting for something to do, and with no plants to hand, they land upon the package on the receiving table. It’s wrapped in humble brown paper, folds clean and crisp, twine tightly tied. Haki’s medication, she realizes, dropping it from her numb hands. Made in the pharmacy. There’s a note on top-- instructions. She’d recognize them anywhere; after all, she’d written more than a few of them herself.

It’s curiosity that makes her pluck it from where it sits. It’s been ages since she’s been in the lab, but her knowledge hasn’t faded; there’s no harm in seeing whether there are any mistakes. An apprentice could have made this, after all. The dose does, as Garack was so fond of saying, make the poison.

She flips open the card, already flushed with the thought of being useful, but--

It’s not some apprentice’s writing at all. Oh no, she knows this spidery scrawl all too well. It was on every jar at her bench, every treatise she read late into the night.

It’s Ryuu’s.

Ignorance is bliss, they say. Always with a laugh, but stewing beneath it is envy and longing in equal measure. A pining for times past, for a childhood never quite as innocent as we remember.

For that is what we miss: innocence. Not the not-knowing, but state of not needing to know. The trust we felt towards those who always knew in our stead, who kept us safe from the dangers that pressed in around us. The ones who protected us with little lies; the small pauses to omit what might scare us, the careful editing to make our worlds the giddy fantasy we dreamed.

But there comes a day where all children must grow up. There is a day we must know these things for ourselves, so that we may see the world with clear eyes. For even innocence can be a cage, should some other hand try to lock you within it.

Ignorance is bliss, they say, but oh, only if they can keep you from knowing what it is you do not know.

May I ask you a question? the little girl asks, her gaze no longer on the garden, but the horizon beyond. It is bent in her vision, the glass made in such a way that each diamond blows out the edges, warping the world around it. She had never noticed when she looked only at the garden so near to it, but now...

Now the imperfection is all she can see.

Anything, the sorceress replies, her fingers wrapping around the caps of her shoulders. They’re cold, as cold as the glass beneath her palms.

The girl looks at their reflection, at the way the wave of the glass make those fingers bleed into talons. Where have the roses gone?

Shirayuki’s hands tremble, her eyes tracing every last loop, every hurried curve. “I didn’t...”

Haki peers around the jamb, letter folded in her hand. “Did you say something, my dear?”

This is the closest she’s been to Ryuu in months; even from where she holds it, the scene of lavender and akegi shigure waft from its paper. Not scented, not on purpose, but just from being left in a desk’s cubbyhole with his hastily tidied samples. His parchment smelt the same in Lilias, fragrant as the hothouses themselves.

Her chest can hardly contain her breath. “I didn’t realize that Ryuu was overseeing your treatment.”

A shadow flickers over the sorceress’s face, her grip painful for but a moment before she is her usual smiling self. A moment that could have been imagined, if only the girl was so sure it was not.

Roses? the sorceress asks airily. I’ve never grown any roses.

“Excuse me?”

“It only makes sense,” Shirayuki hurries to add, placing the card back atop the package. “He’s taken over for Chief Garack, and she always oversaw the royal--”

“Shirayuki.” Her name is firm from Haki’s lips, just shy of a scold. “I’m quite sorry but...who are you talking about?”

So many tales speak of trust as a blade, one that may be used to cut, that breaks when forged from brittle iron. A weapon, wielded and forgotten on the battlefield once the story is done.

But you and I know better: trust is a spell, woven to protect. It is a shield, unseen but always felt; sense by faith and not by fingers. And when it wavers, it does not break, does not shatter like a blade upon a stone; no, nothing so dramatic as that. Instead, it frays, unwoven one thread at a time, unnoticed until--

Until the hole can no longer be ignored.

She doesn’t leave the consort’s chambers meaning to break her curfew; oh no, when the door closes behind her, Shirayuki has every intention to head straight to her own. Her feet drag beneath her, weary from contorting herself into a mold that barely fits. There’s nothing she’d like more than to divest herself of all these courtly trappings and pass effortlessly into oblivion.

But she turns a corner, her mental map of the palace resolving, and she realizes: in one direction is her room, and in the other, the pharmacy. It’s late, but Ryuu would still be there, committing his last-minute thoughts to page while the offices emptied around him. She misses him, a longing so intense it aches.

It would only be a short visit. If Izana brought her before him in the morning, trying to act as both judge and jury-- well, Ryuu would be her physician, once she and Zen finally managed to make it down the aisle hand-in-hand. It only made sense to keep a cordial relationship with the man who would bear the next branch of the Wisteria tree into the world.

And if she missed him, the boy who straddled the line of friend and brother and son both-- there was no need to explain that to the king. It wasn’t as if Izana made a habit of confessing his ulterior motives to her. Though strangely, she thought he might understand that better than anyone.

Or all but one. And he...

Well, if there was a single person who might know where he went besides her, her feet were carrying her to him now/.

Were you to ask the girl, she would say she had not chosen night on purpose. The sorceress had housed her, fed her, loved her in her way; even with the image of the rose burned behind her eyes, she trusted her still, in the desperate way one does when one knows they should not, but cannot bear to contemplate why.

Opportunity chooses for her; the late afternoon sun burns hot, and when they finish their dinner, the sorceress excuses herself to lay down in the dark, to merely rest her eyes-- and does not wake, not even when the door creaks as the girl slips around it. The moon guides her steps when she walks into the garden, bright as the day itself, but she does not need it: her feet carrying her better than memory could.

There is one there, just as there was this morning: a petal, pink and sweet, fragrance so familiar she knew it even without sight.

Come out, she murmurs, digging her hands into the earth. Come out my lovely, my dear. I have been searching just for you.

A tendril spirals up from the ground, tentative. It flips and flaps, and oh, she is too shocked, too awed to help it. Even still, it finds her, wrapping around her finger, and with a single drop of blood the bush emerges, whole and dirt-smeared, from the soil.

What, it murmurs, impatience tinging its words, took you so long?

In the day, the pharmacy is all rush and chaos: apprentices burning tinctures and ushering patients to their rooms; masters emptying drawers as soon as they are filled, only for other herbalists to hurry to replace them. Guards arrive with injuries and nobles with ailments, no moment ever dull while the doors are open.

But at this hour, when the lords and ladies are all tucked in their beds-- or are at least pretending to be-- and the work is done, the pharmacy sleeps. There is no herbalist at the front desk, only the push bell Ryuu despised when she was his apprentice, since it always meant she would be pulled away from him or he away from his project.

A necessary nuisance, he called it once, and Obi had laughed. Just like me, eh, Miss?

She no longer remembers what she said-- it was early enough when he was one still, though she’d like to think she was too kind to say it-- but now she wishes, even if just for a moment, that she could tell him how much of a gift he was to her. How much he had made tedium bearable, even when she hadn’t known it for what it was.

Instead she bites her lips, rubbing at the ache in her breast. It’s hardly the first time she’s forgotten to say what matters, but-- but this won’t be her last chance. Obi might be away now, but he will be found, and she will tell him...

Everything. Every last thought she had since the moment they last spoke; her apologies and her worries, her failures and her triumphs. Because Obi hearing them-- that’s what makes them real.

Her hand wraps around the third door’s knob by habit; even now she expects to open it and see her projects spilled across her desk, to see a curtain closed beneath the other, and a window open between them. To see it waiting for her the way her heart waits for them, empty and waiting to be filled.

But there’s nothing of them there anymore. Nothing besides memories that no longer fit over the space it has become.

Her feet carry her onward, down to the last room, a sliver of light slipping across the hall where it’s been left ajar. She still expects to see a curled mass of blonde hair bent over the desk, long tables sprawled with books and half-finished studies, a bottle of roka medicinally sitting in the corner. But instead--

Instead it is a dark one, a riotous shrubbery of walnut and teak in desperate need of pruning. That had been her job in Lilias, along with Yuzuri’s helpful hands, but is seems no one here has yet talked the Chief Herbalist to task.

Give it a few years, Garack would tell her, and he’ll have herbalists as eager to get into his hair as you three were with me.

She leans against the jamb, a sigh slipping past where her heart clogs her throat. Ryuu had once fit beneath a desk half this size, and now he towers over it even seated, looking more and more like Shidan with each passing day, a man overgrown by time and deadlines.

“Ryuu.” It’s a palpable hit when their eyes meet. Everything else about him might change, but that gaze, so wide and thoughtful-- that never does.

Until now. One moment they spark, a fire lit behind blue glass, and the next...

It gutters, his gaze slipping away.

“Shirayuki.” His voice is so much deeper than in her memory, so much older. And colder too. “Excuse me, Lady Shirayuki. Is there something you need?”

“No.” She clings to the doorway, too aware of how fine her dress is, of how little it belongs in this place, his sanctum sanctorum. How little she belong here, now. “I saw a card you wrote to the consort, and I...wanted to see you.”

“A card?” His eyebrows twitch; she can no longer tell if it’s in surprise or confusion, not on this stranger’s face. “Ah. The powder for her migraines. Did you want some as well?”

“No, I’m-- I’m well.” It feels like a lie, even as she says it. It wouldn’t have, only hours ago. “I just...I’m here for you.”

His knuckles blanch where he grips his pencil. “Well, you’ve seen me. I trust you know your way out.”

You’re too late, too late, the roses say, their sing-song jangling in her ears. I’ve been hidden away for so long, and even now I cannot find him. The betrayal in their voice is thick when they ask, How could you forget us, your flower and your boy, when we have always grown together?

“Ryuu.” It leaves her lips cracked, broken; her mouth no longer knows how to form the shape that calls to him. “I know it’s been...a while, but please don’t think that I didn’t want to-- that I wasn’t thinking about you. I just...”

His pencil pauses on the page, but he does not speak. He just looks at her, the way he would at a stranger, and this room is suddenly a desert and ocean both, too far and deep to go by foot alone.

Still, there is nothing she will not brave, not for him. “It was hard to come,” she admits. “I’m not allowed in the gardens, and I’m not allowed to take patients. Coming here, watching everyone working the way I always have...”

It would have been like watching someone eat a feast while she was starving. 

His eyes soften, even if they don’t precisely thaw. “I know that you’re marrying the prince, and that you don’t have time for m--” his lips press tight-- “this. I’m not upset because you’ve set your career aside.”

“But you are...” Her words limp as she says them, wounded fawns searching of an elusive mother. “You are upset.”

His hands flex as he places them on the wood, utterly silent. “I knew...” he breathes, so harsh it scrapes her own throat too. “I knew you’d have to give things up--important things. But...”

Ryuu had always spoken slowly, thoughtfully. But still, these moments when he meant what he said, when he composed rather than conversed-- it had never taken him to long to tell her what he meant. He trusted her, knew that even if his words came out garbled or his message was lost in a sea of ellipses, she would salvage it, gluing it back together with his intention.

So when he sits silent, it wounds her almost as much as his words.

At last his gaze lifts again from his work, but the glare he fixes on her-- “But I never thought you’d let one of them be Obi.”

Her mouth works, but the well from which she draws her reason is empty, leaving only pain in its wake.

“I didn’t...I didn’t let him leave,” she murmurs, more wind than whisper. “He never told me he was going. He just left without even...”

Saying goodbye. As if all these years had meant nothing at all.

“There’s a guardsman,” she says instead, her voice trembling toward something approaching even. “He said he saw Obi leave with--” a woman-- “someone.”

Ryuu grunts.

“He ran off with Torou, once.” She wants the words to come easy, but each one emerges from her trembling, the way her fingers are against her skirts. “On the way back from Tanbarun. That’s...that’s probably what this is. An old friend that needs help, and then he’ll come right back--.”

“He won’t.”

Each breath is a stab, deep in her chest. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He stands; a production with how much of him there is now. Cautiously, his hand extends, a fist hovering over the knotted wood of his desk.

It takes all her courage to take the first step, and all of it again to take the next. On and on until she’s crossed the room, hand outstretched, quivering beneath his own.

His palm opens, and into hers falls...a seed. Tiny. Blue. As clear as glass.

“An orbia seed?” Shirayuki lifts it up to the light, the plumule a hazy bead nestled in its luminous cotyledon. It’s impossible to tell by sight, but still, she’s sure-- it would germinate, if she planted it. “I was collecting these before we left.”

“I know.”

“It’s funny,” she murmurs, a smile lifting her mouth. “I never did find a blue one.”

“I know.” His explanation comes in fits and starts, a path never worn in the telling. “I had one. I gave it to Obi.”

“You...?” The thought catches in the light, just like the seed between her fingers. “Oh. Oh. But...” Her mouth curls, a silent question: why?

“I don’t know. I thought he might...” Ryuu’s shoulders twitch, as narrow as Obi’s when he first blew in with the wind. Before he settled into the man he became. “When he was ready...”

Of course. Her hand closes tight around the seed. Obi had what she needed all along. And she’d never known, not until...

Not until he was gone. “Where--?”

“I found it on my desk.” Ryuu’s fingers flex, falling by his side. “The morning after he left.”

Where did he go? the little girl asks, desperation choking her as surely as her tears. Where can I find him?

How should I know? the roses reply, thorns in their words as well as their stems. You are the one who left me buried under the ground. How could I watch him when you let us be trapped together?

“Did you...” Her mouth works, cutting itself against her question. “Did you tell Zen’s men, when they came? Do they know that he...?”

Said goodbye, she cannot say, to someone at least.

“No.” Ryuu blinks, his eyes as round and innocent and blue as ever. “They never did. Come by I mean.”

This is not the first time we have spoken of betrayal, is it? Of the wound that never heals, the jagged cut that scabs over only to be ripped open anew. The injury that teaches one to be wary, lest one be inflicted again.

But that is only after the wound is made. When it is first done...

Well, it is strange how long a heart can bear a blade through it without ever feeling the killing stroke. 

“You are thinking,” Haruka remarks, with no small amount of disapproval. “I can tell.”

Shirayuki blinks down at her place setting, expecting to see broth dripped across the tablecloth, or perhaps the edge of her sleeve dipped in yolk, maybe even her tea dribbling over the edge of her cup--

But there is nothing. The white linen is pristine beneath her gold-rimmed plate, her sleeves and elbows tucked up and off the table, and if anything, her beverages of choice are picturesque in their vessels, juice beading with moisture and tea gently steaming. “What am I doing wrong?”

It, historically, has been the wrong question to ask the marquis, sure to send him into a silent huff that will stretch from first course to fifth, disapproval deepening with each sorbet. In his vaunted opinion, the fact her inexperience might cause her to trespass the unspoken rules of good manners is bad enough, but to not know precisely when and how it was done-- now that was truly unforgivable.

However, today he merely settles back in his seat, rubbing his fingers against the cloth tucked over his lap, and fixes her with his unerring gaze. She doesn’t shrink beneath it; oh no, instead something in her chest shifts, almost as if-- as if it grows.

His lips twitch, just the slightest upward tremor. “Nothing.”

Her mouth opens, then closes, stymied. “Then how did you know?”

A single, noble arch lifts. “Because you have never once stopped.”

It is to the tiger-lily the little girl turns, after the roses. They are a pompous flower, no doubt, as proud and self-important as any big cat, but despite their bluster, they are honest. The noblest flower in this garden, hearty and constant, and though they sniff when she kneels down upon their bed, dirtying her hem, they listen.

Have you seen him? she asks, heart lodged tight in her throat. Have you seen my precious boy?

“So what is it,” Haruka murmurs into his glass, “that has you so engrossed, young lady?”

Her lips press together, teeth plucking at the scar. “You told me once that I should know who is my ally, and who is my-- Zen’s.”

The rim has hardly touched his lips, but Haruka sets down the crystal, hands folding behind his plate. “I did.”

“But those are not the one two options, are they.” It’s not a question, not anymore. “Sometimes they may seem to be one or the other, or both at the same time, but really-- it’s their own, isn’t it? Everyone is just trying to do what they think best.”

“That is...” The marquis takes in a steady breath. “A very mature way to see a frustrating problem.”

“The consort has said that she is my friend,” she says slowly, each word shaken loose from her heart. “But she is also lying to me.”

“Is she?”

Haruka, she had said once, these long skirts tangled around her legs, binding fast as any chain, he’s hard to read.

Is he? Zen’s hand was cold against hers, like touching marble. Izana’s had been the same so many years ago; she wonders if it might be a problem with their circulation, perhaps passed down from a parent, but this doesn’t seem the time to ask about his mother’s medical history. He’s always seemed clear as crystal to me.

Though, he continues, mouth set in a rueful grin. After a childhood of lectures, maybe it’s easier. I can tell how stupid he thinks I am just from the degree of his eyebrows.

His brow is furrowed now, a tight knot over the bridge of his nose. There’s no angle, no lift, and Shirayuki isn’t quite sure what that might say about his perception of her intelligence. If it were anyone else, she might even call it concern.

“Is she lying to you,” he asks, posing it like Lata when he wants to ask something particularly perverse as a rhetorical. “Or are you not asking the right questions?”

Her fingers clench tight on her lap, linen rucking up between her fingers. She likes this far less than Lata’s. “Your Grace...”

Now his brows raise, shock stark on his face, “Yes, Miss Shirayuki?”

“Do you...?” The words stick in her mouth; to ask them is to admit defeat. No-- distrust. That the best interests everyone has been working towards are not her own. “Do you know where Obi is?”

I have seen no precious boy, the tiger lily trumpets, as proud as ever. Only a little girl loved by all who see her. How lucky she is to garner such attention!

I care not for me, the little girls mutters, impatient. Where do you think he has gone?

Away, away. The flower bobs beneath its own self-importance. He has been taken away. Down and gone and buried with the roses. Perhaps you are the better for it.

“No.” It’s the truth; he wouldn’t bother to lie to her. “As of now, his location is unknown, even to the king himself.”

She licks her lips, nails biting into her thigh. The orbia seed burns a hole in her hip. “Are they looking for him?”

A shadow ripples over his face, gone before she can follow it to its source. “Someone might be.”

“I mean Zen,” she clarifies. “Or Izana.”

“I know,” he replies, voice impossibly gentle from such a forbidding mouth. “I think we’re ready for the next course, don’t you?”

Innocence and ignorance, truth and illusion, trust and betrayal-- we have meditated upon each, as if they are but separate concepts that can be held to the light and have each facet revealed in turn. But surely you seen that they have all brought us here, to this part, to this singular place: a knife buried in a breast, a garden made into a cage. A girl in each, who has finally seen the truth beneath the illusion.

We should rejoice, should we not? For these girls who might free themselves, might heal themselves? But yet you do not, do you? For you know the trick of it:

A wound does not truly begin to bleed until the blade is removed. And a girl like this--

Ah, her hand is already at the hilt.

For once, Shirayuki is relieved that it is her round-faced guard that awaits her and not a more experienced one. Or worse yet, Kiki, who would anticipate her before she could get a word in edgewise.

But luck is on her side; this dear boy springs from his place on the wall, every muscle tense with anticipation, quivering to do his duty, and she-- she is ready to take advantage of it.

“Ready, my lady?” he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a hound eager to be given his leash. “It’s off to the ballroom next, isn’t it? With Master--?”

“Not today,” Shirayuki informs him swiftly. “I need you to take me to the king.”

The color leaches from his face. “The...the k-king?”

She nods, tight, officious. The sort Lady Mihoko gave her maids; the sort that belonged alongside a command obeyed.

“But, my lady...” He shuffles on his feet, loath to disappoint her. “Don’t you need an appointment to see His Majesty? I don’t think you can just go right in and--”

She’s already walked past him, chin held high. “He’ll see me.”

It may seem humble before the dawn, its petals as rumpled as bedsheets, drawn over its head like a child-- but when the sun casts its fiery crown over the garden, it is the convolvulus that is ascendant. It needs no dazzling pattern, no fanciful pinwheel of petal and sepal to make itself stand above its floral brethren, but only purity of color. For there is no other here that is so purely white, that has a color so simply blue. The tiger lily might roar among the plots, but it is to the convolvulus it bends, when it rises from its nightly slumber.

The little girl watches as the sleep falls from its petals, witness to its splendor. What, it asks, ruffling its delicate mane, could have made you seek me out, girl?

There is a not-insignificant portion of her life that has been spent waiting; not in the way of most of her colleagues-- for water to boil, or a titration to drip, or even for a letter of acceptance to arrive-- but for men with nothing else to recommend them but birth to decide they’re bored enough to receive the royal pharmacist. Shidan had called it fundraising and Kazaha glad-handing, but Shirayuki can admit now, as she flies past Izana’s steward, leaving him and her guard in her wake, what it really is:

Insulting.

The view always arrests her when she enters the royal solar, and this morning is no different; the sun setting, finishing its bright arc through the sky, but the angle of it, with the windows as they are-- it sets the king’s hair alight, a halo burning.

A target, she names grimly; and she the arrow. With his steward calling her name behind her, she takes a determined step toward him.

“Have you not heard then?” Izana asks, hardly bothering to look up from his papers. “I already approved your request to be excused from dinner.”

Shirayuki hauls up short, skirts swishing around her ankles. “Dinner?”

“Yes.” His brows raise, as does his gaze, already bored. “My brother already spoke about at length this morning. So if you seek to move me as well, please note that I have already stepped aside.”

“I...” She blinks. “I wasn’t here for that.”

Interest sparks in his eyes, quick as a struck match. “Then by all means, scold away. At least--” his mouth quirks, too amused-- “I assume that is your intention, marching into my office unannounced as you are.”

“Forgive me.” The steward presses a hand to his heaving breast. “Mistress Shirayuki--”

“It a force of nature,” his master replies, mouth curling like parchment corners. “So I have often had occasion to find out. You may leave us.”

“Your Majesty--” Izana merely lifts his brows, and the man stutters to a stop. “Of course. As you wish.”

“Now,” he hums as the doors close. “Just which wind sent this storm spinning into my office?”

Bound here you might be, but I know the trick of this place, the girl says, kneeing at the bed’s edge. What roots grow here touch the roots of all the morning’s glory. And you who wake with the sun-- you keep the closest watch on the horizon.

If there are any in the garden who know of my precious boy, she continues, the breeze rippling the convolvulus’s ruff. It would be you. So tell me, please...have you see him?

“It’s Obi,” she admits, heat stinging her cheeks. “I want to know the, er, status of the search.”

Izana blinks.

Oh, how kind it would be if this confusion was feigned, if it were all just a show to drag out her loyalties; to force her to admit that even if Zen was her heart, she could not turn her back on her home. That this was simply another moment where she would show him that friendship was strength, and the walls he erected himself were merely a folly.

But there is no smug satisfaction buoying his words when he asks, “The search? Didn’t Sir Obi leave my brother’s employ months ago? The beginning of the summer, I believe--”

“He didn’t quit,” Shirayuki insists, even as the seed weighs heavy between her skirts. “He disappeared, and Zen said he had put men out to search for him.”

A flower has no face, but the girl need no smile, no hooded eyes to discern the sorrowful bent of its stem.

I am but the morning’s glory, the convolvulus sighs, and when the night comes, I fold myself tight. Your boy does not pass me in my waking hours, so perhaps it is that he travels in the night.

But what does that mean? asks the girl. Why would he only travel at night? He is but a boy, a boy, and he walks in day.

The convolvulus is quiet, swaying in the garden’s eternal summer. I do not know, he admits. I do not know at all.

“Ah.” His eyes soften, no longer the unrelenting velvet of the night, but the waves of deep water, and Shirayuki finally has cause to find out: to experience Izana’s pity is a thousand times worse than his disdain. “I am not privy to the movement of my brother’s men, so long as I do not need them in attendance. He must not have put in his last report...”

“Please.” Her hand flies up between them, earning her an incredulous lift of a brow. “It only makes it worse that you are being decent about it.”

His laugh surprises her. “So you’d like me to gloat?”

“No.” Her breath saws out of her, great heaves that shake her shoulders. “I want you to grant me leave to find him.”

“You?” His brows raise, even his eyes widen, but to his credit, he does not ask, but what could you do? Instead his mask settles back over his face without a ripple, the king staring out from behind it. “It would be a waste. I have heard from your tutors that you are making good progress. Lady Mihoko even ventured to say you might make a passable princess, if you pushed out an heir fast enough.”

Her mouth twitches. Only yesterday, she would have nearly fainted with relief, but today-- “What praise.”

There’s a stern tilt to his mouth, a forbidding set to his eyebrows; if she didn’t know any better, Shirayuki would call it concern. “As I recall, our agreement did address this.”

“Then you mean...?”

“Yes.” He nods, splaying his palms across his desk, almost as if he were bracing himself. “If you leave the palace grounds, you forfeit your chance to be the one at my brother’s side. A princess leaves such things in the hands of her guardsmen--” his mouth twitches-- “and her husband.”

You want her to go, do you not? Even now you quiver at the edge of your seat, begging this little girl to open her eyes, to keep them open, to see through the illusion and run as fast as she can. You want her to leave the garden, to break through the last of this enchantment and leave safety behind.

But tell me, what would you do, with the knife quivering it in your chest? To forget it is to live with the pain. To remove it is to be free.

An easy choice, you might say. Who could live with a blade in their breast? Ah, but do not forget:

There is no way to know if the wound is fatal until the knife is removed.

“There is something I wonder, Mistress Shirayuki.”

His musings shatter the brittle silence between them; that fragile bulwark that has kept her in his skin. Now that it’s gone, she trembles, every muscle in her body fighting the urge to cross the king’s study and shake him until decency falls it.

A hopeless quest if there ever was one. “Is there something else you could possibly say to me?”

She says it sweetly; most would hear only that-- the tone rather than the content. But Izana has not sat so long on his father’s throne by being that sort of man; no, his mouth curls, amused.

“No. It’s only...” he hums, gaze lifting from his paper. “I wonder when you started to think Obi left.”

Then what do you know? the girl says, anger and bile rising in her tone. What good are you?

A flower cannot smile, but she feels teeth when it replies, I know that it will cost you, and cost you dear.

Izana might as well have struck her. Shirayuki rocks back on her heels, only just catching herself before she trips over her own hem. “I-I...what do you...?”

“When you came in here, you first talked as you had before.” Long fingers knit beneath his chin, though he does not deign to rest on them, not alert as he is. A cat before a kill, still toying with with the prey between his paws. “You insisted on his disappearance-- the implication being, of course, that you deny his own agency in his departure. Kidnapping or coercion, one might say.”

She cannot see its teeth, but Shirayuki isn’t so foolish to believe there is no trap. “Y-yes..”

“But now you come to me and ask after my men.” His mouth quirks. “You ask for my permission.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” she asks, fingers clenching in her skirts. “A princess wouldn’t depart without the approval of her liege.”

“Of course.” He waves a hand, as if all those rules she spent late nights learning mean nothing at all, as if they were worth less than the paper on which they had been printed. “A princess would. But you, Miss Shirayuki, you--” his eyes spark, the way she only saw that night in Lilias as he closed the gates-- “you jump from windows. You follow a flower into a cave. If you truly believed your companion in danger, I doubt there is a single promise that would keep you by my side.”

She cannot breathe, let alone hazard an answer. Not when even a flutter of an eyelash could give her away.

“Which begs the question, doesn’t it?” His gaze fixes her to where she stand, pins through a moth’s wings. “Just what reason would make him leave?”

Me? the girl cries, already thinking of her lovely red shoes, of the boat they bought her down the river. Why me?

Because my dear, the convolulus hums. It is your fault that he has left.

The doors swing open, and the steward steps inside, sparing her an infuriatingly smug glance. “Sir Lowen, Your Majesty.”

“A moment,” the king tells him, “Mistress Shirayuki and I are nearly done her.”

The man nods. “I will tell him to await your will.”

Shirayuki blinks. “What--?” It’s trial to catch her breath, to make her heart stop pounding in her breast. “What is Mitsuhide doing here?”

“You need an escort to your dinner, do you not? I thought he would be the most palatable option for you.” Izana fixes her with a meaningful look. “I do hope you find your answers, Mistress Shirayuki.”

You don’t know me. Obi’s gaze is raw in her memory, too gold. You don’t know anything about me.

You know how he is. Zen’s smile curls at the edges, brittle, like parchment pasted to vellum. Obi has always come back on his own before.

Zen will take care of it. Mitsuhide won’t meet her gaze. I’m sure Obi will be back any day now.

“Don’t worry.” It’s a miracle that the words don’t catch between her teeth, the way she’s clenching them. “I will.”

A hand wraps around a hilt. A breath shudders. And with one, swift tug--

The blade moves but an inch.

[slytherinsnekxvii]

this isn't my best work, but it's still pretty good for something i wrote when i was 15 after having a half a year of writer's block. anyways, ahem, presenting the fic in which severus says fuck it after the lake incident and just doesn't go back to hogwarts but potentially gets dragged into the war anyway despite living in the muggle world for like,, three years, part 1 (aka the only chapter i wrote bc my writer's block came back oops):

It starts simply, like most things do. It starts with a few words, tossed out without care and full of childish conviction. It escalates to brawls in the corridors and duels in the dungeons--if you could even call them that when it was four-on-one and most encounters left him reeling. It continues until he's twitchy and hypervigilant and awkward, always on the lookout for an attack, ready to bite before anyone could bite him.

It ends much the same. The events leading up to this are a production fit for the theatre, if the crowd is anything to by, but the ending itself is quite simple. Gasping for air near the shore of the Black Lake and battling a headache that hurts almost as much as the sharp press of his heart at the thought of what he'd done to Lily, he simply gives up. He picks himself up, tells himself this is the end of it and goes about collecting his belongings.

His wand comes to his hand easily enough with a mumbled Accio. His bag does, as well. Its contents, on the other hand, have to be collected by hand. His textbooks and ink are strewn beneath the tree, mostly, but the loose parchment and his quill are lost to the wind. He snatches up what he can find before someone gets it into their head to come further humiliate him and turns to head back into into the castle. Only to be smacked in the face by a bound sheaf of parchment and a quill. It's suspicious, and he's tempted to burn it then and there. It's his, but they were definitely scattered about the grounds two seconds ago. He doesn't burn it. He hesitates, puts it in his bag and returns to the castle, intent on making his way to Gryffindor Tower.

The apology doesn't go well. Lily isn't interested, refuses to hear it. He returns to the Slytherin dorms, drops into his bed and thanks Merlin that they'll be going home soon. Cokeworth is God-awful, but at least there's only one man trying to kill him there and only one woman for him to disappoint.

So, he waits it out. Spends his final classes looking over his shoulder and staring blankly at his parchment every time he remembers that they tried to kill him and they humiliated him and they got away with both. He shrinks into himself, avoiding the corridors at all costs, skipping meals to avoid being in the Great Hall and spends as much time as possible in the Library and the dusty old Potions Lab on the Fourth Floor that no one knows about, losing himself in research so he doesn't have to interact with his Housemates. He sits alone at the Leaving Feast, refuses to touch his plate until Evan Rosier falls into the seat next to him and bothers him into eating. The Headmaster dismisses them, says that they'll see each other come September and lets them filter out onto the train.

He ends up sharing a compartment with Mulciber, Avery and Rosier even though he's barely spoken to any of them since the incident. Evan needles him about everything and nothing the whole way to King's Cross, and when they get there, Evan claps him on shoulder and that's goodbye.

He gathers up his things, goes to meet his mother so they can Apparate home and not waste what little money they have on transport. Eileen's cheeks are sunken, her arms rail thin, her dress loose-fitting. He'd still rather see her than anyone even loosely affiliated with Hogwarts. She nods at him, he nods back. They go home.

He spends his summer making himself useful. He does odd jobs for the neighbours, is grudgingly polite to his father, takes care of his mother. By the time term rolls around, people are talking about that Snape boy. Strange, and quiet, too, but he works well, doesn't he? September first dawns bright and early, and Severus doesn't go back to Hogwarts.

He studies at home instead, nose buried in his mum's old books. He plants the few ingredients he has hidden away in his trunk at the back of the house and uses what grows to brew medicines and weedkillers and anything he can think of after experimenting a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith down the street both swear up and down he's working magic on their little garden and their old bones.

He feeds cats, delivers packages for the grocer, takes tables and nightstands home to cast Reparo on. Someone tells the pub owner about him, and the next thing he knows, he's frying chips and learning how to mix drinks even though the most complicated thing anyone ever orders is a pint of the beer that they have on tap.

It's not a bad existence. Eventually, slowly, his mother starts coming back to herself. She takes over the brewing when he isn't around. Annotates his annotations and even makes a trip to Diagon Alley for more ingredients to add to their garden when Severus forgets to write Narcissa to ask her to send a few more.

Severus is old enough now to drag his father home from the pub behind him when he's done working. One evening, they come home and Tobias nearly trips over the end table that Severus is meant to be fixing for Mr. Williams three houses up. Severus works his wand out of his boot and goes to cast a spell, but Tobias grumbles and bats his hand away. Drunk as he is, he still digs out his toolbox and gets to work. The job turns out almost decent.

By December, Severus is at the pub, feeding cats on his break and making deliveries when he has the time. Eileen is brewing and Tobias is doing carpenter's work fixing and building wardrobes, cupboards, cabinets and everything else. It keeps him busy enough that some days he doesn't see a drink at all. It's not much, but there's a little food on the table at the end of each day, and Severus thinks that he's probably better off than he would have been at Hogwarts.

Sometime around Christmas, his mother talks him into getting a Muggle education and writing his NEWTs. He writes the O-Levels for his Muggle exams in January. They're a breeze, given how well-read he is. He sees Petunia at the store shortly after, and she sneers vaguely in his direction. He hears her condescending voice in the back of his head and decides to sit the A-Levels in May out of spite.

His birthday comes and goes, the NEWTs come right after and he aces each and every one of the written exams. The practicals are spread out across the following weeks, and he's leaving the Ministry after his last exam to find that the date coincides with that of a field trip for the Sixth Years at Hogwarts.

He watches them a little, tearing his gaze away after he catches sight of a tanned arm draped over a shoulder touched by a red braid. The students mill near the doors for a while and so, Severus looks around for escape routes, eyes skipping hurriedly from door to door until they rest on a Ravenclaw who'd also taken the January NEWTs. All kinds of people had been there, adults who hadn't passed when they were younger and needed to retake the exams to get jobs, teenagers who had family fortunes waiting for them whose parents wanted them to at least look like they were competent, and overachievers--like Severus assumed the Ravenclaw was--who wanted to know where they stood before the actual exam. He jerks his chin toward another door, this one proclaiming to lead to the "Apparition Division". Severus nods once at him and makes his way toward it.

There's a one-day course for Apparition, apparently. The woman at the receptionist desk doesn't even bother looking at him, just points him in the direction of the Training Room with her nail file. He stays for nearly the rest of the day, until they're finally done. He gets his license and is quietly pleased to see that the building is nearly devoid of life when he leaves. He goes home.

May and June come around and bring with them the A-Levels. He finds them only marginally more challenging than his O-Levels and returns to his routine. It's a nice routine, which takes him all the way through to July of the next year when Lily starts coming in with Black and Potter and Pettigrew and Lupin. The first time it happens, he leaves the counter so fast that the patron he'd just given a glass of water to is convinced he teleported. He's already taken his regular break to go feed Mrs. Jones' cats, so he steps into the kitchen and tells Jimmy he's taking a smoke break. Jimmy snorts and reminds him that he doesn't smoke.

He fidgets, trying to think up a way to avoid going back out, when the ruckus they're making makes Jimmy look through the little window and see the lot of them crowded around a little table. He gets a peculiar look on face for a bit, before he asks Severus if they have something to do with why he doesn't go to his fancy school anymore. He doesn't need an answer, just tells him to keep an eye on the food and steps out to man the counter. Severus stays late, frying chips and washing dishes until the early hours of the morning when Jimmy pats him on the back and kicks him out.

It keeps up until September comes around, and by then, Severus has taken so many smoke breaks that he's actually started smoking. He keeps smoking long after they're gone.

He goes back to his routine until it's broken again by a letter that comes by owl. It's a short letter, coming from a Potions Master whose apprentice had been overseeing the exams. It claims that his work was the best either of them had seen in years and after asking around, they'd found that he was unbound to any Master and was highly recommended by the Malfoys. It ends with an offer. Severus would think himself foolish not to accept, so, he does. After that, two days a week are dedicated to Flooing to Master Diogene's laboratory to fulfil the requirements of his apprenticeship. It finds its own little nook in his routine and so he continues until June of 1980.

He's preparing to go to the pub when there's a knock at the door. It's not so uncommon anymore, so he thinks nothing of it, only that he hopes it doesn't take too long. His shift starts in half an hour. He pushes his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, where they perpetually are these days, and decides he'll roll them up properly later. He opens the door.

"Good afternoon," a very pregnant Lily says, and standing next to her is the Ravenclaw from the Ministry, back straight, arms clasped behind his back, his entire being alert.

"Good afternoon," he replies, awkward. After a long moment of silence, he asks, "Can I help you?"

"Depends on whether or not you let us in," she says.

Wordlessly, he steps aside, sliding the three pairs of shoes nearer to the wall in order to let them pass. "Do you want tea?"

"No," she says, at the exact same time her Auror friend says, "Thank you."

He gestures them into the little kitchen, where they sit at the little table where he and his mother and his father take their meals. He tugs his wand out of his boot, flicks it so that the cauldron bubbling away on the stove scoots aside but doesn't spill. The burner beneath lights on its own. He puts the kettle, already full, on to boil. "So," he begins, absentmindedly rolling up his sleeves. "Is there something you need from me?"

Lily smiles, strained. "Can't I just visit an old friend?"

"Sure," he says, quietly. "You made it very clear that you would prefer if we weren't, though."

Her expression twists. "And with good reason," she grits.

He says nothing. The kettle whistles. He searches for the boxes of tea, sets about mixing two cups of mint. He puts them both on a tray with milk and sugar, as well as the small container of honey kept for special occasions. He puts it on the table.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything, just watches him with bright, green eyes aflame with old anger. She picks up one of the teacups and starts doctoring it to her liking. Her Auror friend follows suit. It really is obvious, Severus thinks, watching the man scan the room from top to bottom, corner to corner. He sighs. "Why are you here, Lily?"

She glares at her tea. The Auror shifts uncomfortably. Severus sighs again. "You know, when people visit old friends, they usually don't bring Aurors with them."

"Trainee, actually. This is my last year." He grins sheepishly. "That obvious?"

Severus nods.

He leans over the table, stretches out a hand. His right, Severus notices. He leans over and shakes with his left.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the Auror trainee introduces himself.

"Severus Snape, but you already knew that."

"Ah, yes. Of course."

Lily continues to glare at her tea. Shacklebolt fidgets. Severus stares, adjusts the heat on the burner below the cauldron. Silence prevails. The door creaks open, just then, and Eileen comes in, stirring rod in hand. "You'll be late if--oh," she says, noticing their guests. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," the other three respond with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Well, if it isn't Lily Evans. It's been quite a while, hasn't it? You look well," Eileen says, nudging her son out of the way so she can poke at the mixture in the cauldron.

"You as well," Lily mumbles. "And it's, ah, it's Potter now, actually. Lily Evans Potter."

"Ah, I see. My mistake. Congratulations are in order, then, Mrs. Potter."

"Congratulations," Severus echoes.

"And you're a Shacklebolt, yes?" Eileen continues, her hands methodically sprinkling ground lavender into the cauldron. "Elodie's son, I should think. You resemble her quite a bit."

"Yes, ma'am," the trainee replies. "Grandmother says I'm nearly a carbon copy."

Eileen hums, lowers the heat under the cauldron. She takes out the stirring rod, examining the clinging lavender paste before wiping it off and placing it on the counter. "I suppose I'll leave you it, though Doris just passed, and she said that Jimmy has a full house, so, do try to hurry. It's already nearly four."

"Yes, Mam."

She leaves, and once more, silence settles over the small kitchen. Severus looks at the clock on the wall, sees that it does, indeed, say that it's minutes to four. Eleven minutes, to be exact, and it's a ten minute walk to the pub. He starts gathering the tea things, has just taken Shacklebolt's empty teacup when Lily clears her throat.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she asks.

"No," Severus tells her, and takes her teacup. Ten minutes to four.

"Prove it," she says, glaring.

Severus sets down the tray and leans across the table, arms outstretched, palms up, forearms exposed. The skin on either arm is pale, smooth and utterly unmarked, save and except for the scars one is bound to get when their preferred work involves knives and hot cauldrons.

"You keep regular contact with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, as well as Regulus Black and Evan Rosier, all of whom are suspected Death Eaters. Why?"

Severus' eyes narrow. "Lucius is sponsoring my Potions Mastery. Narcissa, for whatever reason, enjoys my conversation. Regulus and Evan both seem to think that I'll drop dead if I don't speak to them at least once a week and I haven't been able to disabuse them of the notion--though, not for lack of trying."

"So, you aren't planning to become a Death Eater?" Seven minutes to four.

"I'm not," Severus says, biting down on something rising in his chest. He returns the tea things to their proper places, washes the cups and sets them to dry. When he looks at them again, Lily's glare has softened into an unwavering stare.

"Are you certain?" she asks, and Severus grits his teeth.

"Oh, no, not at all. I only left the Wizarding World to live in a Muggle neighbourhood with my Muggle father, work for a Muggle and feed old ladies' cats and fix their husbands' cabinets because I thought it would make it easier for me when I decided I wanted to murder them all. Obviously," he snaps, throat closing around the words as soon they've been forced out of his mouth. His jaw clamps shut. Three minutes to four.

"You're being an a—" she starts, but then she bites her tongue. "Why... why did you leave?"

He stands silent for a moment. "Reasons I don't believe we have time to discuss. It appears that I'm late for work, I'm afraid." The clock reads three fifty-nine. By the time, he reaches the front door, it will be four o' clock. He starts walking.

"But–" Lily begins, standing.

He gestures them onto the porch while he shoves his feet into his boots. "Terribly sorry to leave in a hurry like this, but duty calls. Things to do, people to see. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Potter. Auror Trainee Shacklebolt." Four o' clock.

"Really–"

"Until next time, Mr. Snape," Shacklebolt interjects, and with a stiff nod, he and Lily make their way towards the Apparition Point they'd used and Severus is walking down the street. He exhales, slowly, carefully at the quiet, telltale crack of Disapparition off in the distance. He picks up the pace and hopes that'll be the end of it. He knows it won't, though. Until next time, Shacklebolt said.

It isn't the end, of course. It never is. There's a knock at the door just before he's ready to leave the next afternoon, and he contemplates just not answering the door and staying at home for the foreseeable future. There's enough food to last at least a week, and he could always just tell Mrs. Havisham that he wasn't feeling well. The news would make it around the town and back within the day. The knock sounds again. He sighs and gets up to go answer it. "Can I help you?"

"Only if you want to. May I come in?" Shacklebolt asks.

Against his better judgement, Severus lets him in.

[curedeity]

From Different Worlds

Summary: the world of Magix is made up of many different peoples, and thise differences are sometimes very, very tangible.

(Aka: what if the winx were actual aliens)

    It was a bright morning, the sun having snuck in through the blinds and forced all the girls awake. Stella was still yawning as she and Bloom padded down to breakfast together.

    “Hey Stella, could you tone it down a bit, the sun’s being super obnoxious today, like you,” Musa sniped as she passed the duo with her tray. Stella pulled a face at her, leaving Bloom in a fit of giggles.

    “That is a misconception of her powers, it's doubtful Stella has the actual power to control the sun,” Tecna pointed out the obvious. “And if she did, Flora would already be begging her for help with her gardening.”

    Flora shrugged innocently, walking over to go sit with Mirta today.

    It was a normal morning, all in all. Fairies pouring into the breakfast hall, slow conversations and sleepy eyes.

    A sun shining brightly in them-

    God, what Bloom wouldn’t give for some shade. Maybe if she stood behind Stella, her shadow would block out the glare-

    Bloom’s eyes flicked down, widening in shock, before she tapped Stella’s shoulder.

    “Huh, what is it hun?” Stella turned around to look at her, one perfect eyebrow cocked.

    “Where’s your shadow?” Bloom whispered.

    Bloom had seen some strange things at her time in Alfea. Magic had become a routine occurrence in her life, just another part of the atmosphere. Yet she had to be dreaming right now.

    “Oh, I don’t have one,” Stella shrugged. As though that was all the explanation needed. Stella was Stella, so she simply didn’t have a shadow.

    Bloom was going to fucking lose it.

    “Almost all Solarians don’t have shadows. It has to do with how their bodies process and emit light,” Tecna explains to the look of confusion on Bloom’s face.

    “Oh yeah, you wouldn’t know that,” Musa mumbled to herself in the background. Bloom was glad some of them were now remembering how batshit this stuff was to her.

    But-

    “That doesn’t make sense.” Bloom dredged through her memories of her middle school science classes. Because Stella’s body was opaque and solid, light wouldn’t pass through it. Therefore, due to the angle of the sun, parts of the ground would end up shaded from where her body blocked the light.

    That’s how things worked.

    “Well, I don’t get how you all have shadows,” Stella waved a hand dismissively.

    “I guess not all of us can be as radiant as you, Princess,” Musa taunted her.

    And the conversation moved on after that, leaving Bloom to just having to accept that some people didn’t have shadows. Because that’s a thing now.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Flora was the best roommate Bloom could’ve asked for. Sure, sometimes her plants ate her homework, but in those cases Flora would help Bloom redo them. And Flora was much better than Bloom at the problems, so it would ultimately raise her grades.

    Or at least, that’s Bloom thought. The day her opinion was challenged was after one of Griselda’s classes. They had spent two whole hours practicing a litany of spells, and Stella was the only one of the Winx in the class with her. 

    Griselda hadn’t let them off easily afterwards either, piling them high with homework to complete over the weekend.

    Bloom was exhausted by the time she returned to her room, her bag digging into her shoulder. She swung open the door with a little shout to announce her presence, and stumbled on in, ready to drop her bag on the floor, then drop herself onto her bed.

    Her attention was captured, however, by Flora. Who was sitting on her bed. And eating dirt right out of a flower pot.

    She ate it like popcorn, squeezing it in between her fingers and tossing it into her mouth. She wasn’t even focused on that, rather she was doing her homework. It was… casual.

    Flora looked up with a soft smile directed towards Bloom, as she did every time Bloom entered their shared room. “How were your classes Bloom?” She inquired, as she popped even more dirt into her mouth.

    “You know, you know you’re eating dirt, right?” Bloom couldn’t stop herself from asking. This had to be a mistake made from lack of sleep. Flora must’ve been reaching for the bag of chips they kept on the counter for studying snacks, and accidently grabbed one of the many, many flower pots instead.

    “Yeah, it’s specially made to taste like cotton candy! My sister sent it to me as a treat. Would you like to try some?” Flora offered, sticking the pot out in Bloom’s direction.

    “No, thank you,” Bloom managed to respond, giving up on the conversation entirely and flopping down onto her bed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Classes at Alfea didn’t tend to run on any curriculum Bloom could understand. While there were vague outlines for the subjects, it seemed like the teachers could give any lesson, and if they had even the vaguest justification Griselda wouldn’t stop them.

    Which, Bloom supposed, was how they had ended up learning about sea creatures in Professor Paladium’s class. 

    Living in the same dorm as Aisha, Bloom had already learned a fair deal about the variety of species that lived in Magix’s seas. Flora, Aisha and Tecna could get into long discussions about the biodiversity and importance of them. It seemed to be one of the few commonalities between the many planets of Magix.

    When Bloom first thought of magical sea creatures, her thoughts were filled with ideas of Krakens and Sirens, Kelpies and so much more. And while there were some very odd creatures out there that made her fantastical heart scream with joy, there were also many that were similar or the same as those found on Earth.

    “Dolphins are quite majestic creatures. They eat a variety of other fish in the seas, making them quite the predator. In fact, they even have quite the complex language, made up of calls, whistles and clicks,” Professor Palladium lectured them, spreading his hands out in grandiose gestures, a picture of a dolphin on the whiteboard behind him.

    “It would be helpful if you could all hear them communicate then. Oh, Musa, could you demonstrate for us?” Professor Palladium clapped his hands together as Bloom tried to piece that sentence together in her mind.

    Before she could even give it a cursory thought, a series of inhuman noises filled the room.

    Bloom jerked around wildly, her eyes landing on Musa.

    Who had her mouth open.

    And was emitting those eldritch calls.

    Like- like a fucking. Dolphin.

    “Fantastic demonstration Musa, now, each dolphin has their own individual name…” Professor Palladium’s class droned on as Bloom sat at her desk, reconsidering the existence of reality itself.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Bloom had never played many video games. Consoles were expensive, and she spent most of her free time drawing or reading. It had been during her first week at Alfea that she had been hanging out in Musa and Tecna’s room, doing her nails, that she had paused to watch Tecna play.

    Bloom had entertained herself by sketching the wild scenes, a mash of movement and color of the fast-moving games Tecna played. After a few days, Tecna had offered the controller to Bloom while she had gone to grab a few snacks. She had returned to Bloom having died a dozen times.

    Video games were not Bloom’s forte, and she often came in last during Winx Game Night. The few times Stella got worse scores than her, Bloom was 99% sure Stella did so on purpose so Bloom wouldn’t feel bad.

    It was fun though, to watch Tecna obliterate Timmy in every game they played. They were a quite competitive duo, and Tecna had no qualms about crushing them in virtual combat.

    It wasn’t until the specialists had joined them for their game night that Bloom had realized Tecna and Timmy made an even more terrifying team. After that, Tecna and Timmy were no longer allowed to partner together during these games.

    Bloom had to admit, she was a bit jealous that Tecna could maintain her decent grades while spending so much of her time goofing off.

    That’s why it was odd when, during one of their long weekends with little homework, Bloom entered Tecna’s room to find her not playing video games but rather opening a package.

    “Whatcha got there?” Bloom asked, peeking over Tecna’s shoulder curiously. It was a fact of life that privacy was different when they all lived together. They were expected to knock on doors before entering any room, not to eat each other’s snacks, and not go through each other’s cabinets. Anything else was fair game.

    “It’s a new controller that was just released on Zenith, I ordered one to test it out. It has new technology that should improve response time, which will make it easier to shoot Timmy before they shoot me,” Tecna explained, grinning all the while. Tecna’s grins were small, just a tiny upturn of the mouth, a twitch of movement. Barely any warning before she destroyed all your plans.

    Bloom watched as Tecna pulled out what looked like a small half orb. A cord dangled from the base, and Tecna plugged it into her laptop.

    “Uh, how does that work?” Bloom couldn’t see any buttons on it, and it couldn’t spin…

    “Oh, I release a certain amount of electrical data that this controller interprets and uses for it’s commands. I just have to hold it and have the right instincts.” Tecna’s attention was more on loading a new game than talking to Bloom.

    Bloom had been at Alfea for a year and a half now. She just left the room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Bloom had used to love summer, school was stifling and getting to sit outside all day and draw the scenery really was her passion. But now, her feelings on it had become more bittersweet. Every year it was hard to readjust to the routine with her parents after spending so long with the Winx. No more late nights throwing popcorn at Flora’s plants, or getting her makeup put on by Stella in the mornings.

    It wasn’t bad, she missed her parents dearly while she was at Alfea, but there would always be pieces of her scattered at both places.

    They still saw each other over the summer. Stella would take her out for shopping at Magix, and Flora stopped by the shop to help out her mother. Musa got concert tickets for all of them, and Tecna had a server set up so they could always text and play games together.

    Aisha, for her part, had invited them all out for a beach day.

    Bloom rubbed sunscreen onto Tecna’s back while Stella just laughed at the duo. It was unfair that Stella couldn’t get sunburn, when she could burn easily through other means. Bloom stuck her tongue out at the laughing girl.

    Musa had gone off to get them surfboards, given Aisha had promised to teach them all. The other two were already in the water, laughing as they splashed water at one another.

    Bloom stood up, giving her own sunscreened body a once over to make sure she had got everywhere. Stella was already dashing for the water, only a cursory cry of warning that gave neither other any time to move out of the way before Stella cannonballed between them. 

    The water showered over them, Aisha just laughing as she playfully promised to get Stella back, and Flora coughing as she tried to rid her lungs of the excess water. Bloom paddled in and rubbed her back.

    “Sorry Flora!” Stella shouted before returning to her banter with Aisha. 

    “I’m ok,” Flora smiled at Bloom, clearing her throat once more.

    Bloom returned her brilliant smile. “We’ll have to plan a retaliation.”

    Flora nodded, “Most definitely.”

    Bloom’s attention was drawn back to the argument at a splash of water, Aisha was already gone by the time she looked over, only a shadow under the water, and she watched as Aisha pulled Stella down with her.

    “I think Aisha might’ve given her enough actually,” Flora admitted, and Bloom had to give her that.

    She watched her two friends reemerge, hair soaked and Stella whining. Her attention was almost caught by the way Stella’s hair glowed in the sun, before her eyes noted a rippling on Aisha’s neck.

    There, closing back into layers of skin, were gills.

    Alright, so one of her friends had gills. That’s fine. This is fine. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Bloom’s parents had always known she was a strange kid since the day Mike brought her home, but sometimes that oddity was really hammered in. It was only now, with the context that Bloom was basically an alien child, that the two sat at the dinner table and began reconsidering all those incidents.

    “Remember that time Bloom got stuck in that walk-in freezer while we were chaperoning one of her school trips?” Vanessa added in to the litany of memories.

    “I don’t want to remember that was terrifying!” Mike shivered. “But then I opened up the door and she was completely fine other than a bit annoyed.”

    “I guess we were too relieved to think properly about that, huh?” Vanessa teased.

    Mike sighed. “What about that time we went camping and were making s’mores and Bloom just held the marshmallow in her hand and stuck it into the fire.” The anxiety Mike had felt in that moment bled into his tone, now mixed with the resignation of time.

    “Oh yeah! That’s why we never went camping again,” Vanessa mused.

    Bloom had been a very strange kid, but they’d loved her all the same. Maybe it would do some good to check in with one of the other fairies and see if all this should be considered normal though, just in case. They were responsible parents after all.

[cafedanslanuit]

anonymous said: I saw that you were from Perú and I wanted to request an argentinian or uruguayan mc introducing the rfa to mate. Like their first reaction to seeing mc drinking it (maybe they'd think is a weird drug??) and their thougts after mc makes them try it?

anonymous said: Hi! I've thinking that Korea seems to be a more conservative place that the US for example, and probably is not that common the use of marijuana among the youth, what if MC was from "la mafia del mate" countries (Argentine, Uruguay, Paraguay) and the RFA finds some "yerba mate" in her stuff and they think she is doing drugs?? 😱😂 I hope you don't find this request too weird😂, thanks! 

a/n: omg guys you have no idea how much i love latina!mc headcanons <3 also i’m so sorry these came up so late i got so stuck with these headcanons but i managed to finish them today! <3

RFA with a latina!MC that drinks yerba mate + their personalized mates

Zen

"MC, do you smoke weed?"

"Uhh... occasionally. I prefer edibles. Why?"

"Found your stash earlier" he admitted. "Tried making a blunt but it tasted really, really bad. Not at all like I remembered".

"... Zenny, I don't have a stash.”

"Eh, you do, it's by the flour?"

"... That's my yerba mate".

That's the story of how Zen smoked yerba mate.

omg zen are you okay

When you finally explained what it was, he wanted to try! It was a bit bitter for his taste, but he definitely liked sharing just one cup.

Indirect kisses, he said.

You got him a cute mate for him and he always has a sip between practice. He adores it when his co-stars ask him what’s that and he gets to explain all about yerba mate.

“I just feel very international, babe.”

Yoosung

Low-key believes you're a witch.

Once he had a cold and wasn't feeling well. Instead of popping a pill, you offered to prepare something for him. It smelt strong and citrus, but you made sure to add some honey into it.

Next morning he was more than okay.

= witch

So he was used to finding some herbs around his kitchen

He was curious more than anything and also liked to watch you mix them all to prepare some really yummy refreshers.

Once he saw you filling your mate with hot water from your thermos and he asked what it was. He had seen you brew tea before, but the cup/mate had too many leaves for it to be tea.

You offered him a sip and this boy blushed.

Yes, indirect kisses again

But he liked it! He usually drinks some whenever he’s playing, because he says it gives him good luck.

Jaehee

You love coffee as well, but every once in a while, you just need something that reminds you of home.

At the end of a work day, Jaehee finds you in the back of the store drinking your yerba mate quietly.

She asks and you explain what it is, and that you needed a rest from smelling coffee all day long. She sits next to you and asks to try it herself.

She likes it! But only second to coffee. Some winter morning she does enjoy sharing some yerba mate with you, so you get her her own mate so you can share.

Both of your mates have cute spanish messages <3

Jumin

He didn't spend much time at the kitchen, but on a certain Sunday morning, he decided to indulge his young wife with home-made pancakes.

He didn't think he would find a package of a mysterious herb behind the sugar.

Jumin said nothing and prepared the pancakes. You appeared in the living room, stretching, a tired smile on your face. After mumbling a good morning, you hugged your husband from behind, pressing your face against his back.

"MC"

"Yes?"

"Why do you have marijuana?"

You couldn't stop laughing after he showed you your yerba mate. You explained it was an herb, just like tea was, but you drank it in a special mug, a mate.

He listened carefully to your explanation and then asked to try it too.

He ended up loving it (not v surprised since he loves tea too).

Now you spend your Sunday winter afternoons drinking from your mates while having a conversation.

Saeyoung

Let's be honest, his PhD Pepper addiction isn't really about the taste. It's mostly because he needs to keep alert while working on his hacking activities

Once you put a cute mate on his desk and invite him to have a sip. Even if it was a bit bitter at first, you assured him it would give him the energy he needed.

And boy you were right.

Saeyoung still drinks PhD Pepper once in a while but he really prefers yerba mate now.

He will definitely order a couple of matching mates and a thermos with cat themes on them.

To be honest, he really likes he gets to share your culture with you, because he definitely noticed your smile when he said he prefered it over his caffeinated drink.

[matchupwithshy]

Raffle winner @firedrakegirl

-----------------------------

The surprise gift for Drake

---------------------------------

The day began just like any other day in the apartment of two good friends. The angelic Mage Drake and the half-skeleton monster Shy. The two girls had met each other in high school and had been best friends since. After they graduated from college Shy as a pastry chef and Drake as a businesswoman they had decided to share an apartment together to save money. Today was a good day the sky had a few clouds but a nice breeze was blowing, Shy had gotten up early to make breakfast since today was her turn. As Shy was beating some eggs to scramble them, she heard her phone's ringtone start playing. "Huh, who could be calling me this early in the morning?" She mumbled under her breath as she placed the bowl of eggs down with the risk still inside it. Shy washed her hands quickly then grabbed her phone to answer the call.

"Hello, this is Shy speaking how may I help you?"

A deep husky voice answered her by chuckling softly after she finished speaking.

"Hey, sweetheart did ya'h forget to look at the number again to see who it was?"

Shy squeaked as a light green blush went across her cheekbones and a smile grew on her face. She was happy to hear her bonefriends deep voice again he had been so busy lately that they couldn't really talk.

"Sorry, honey I was making breakfast for me and Drake. She had a rough day yesterday at work so I wanted to cheer her up with some of her favorite food." Shy frowned at the memory of Drake coming home soaking wet and trying to hide her tears.

A rough scratchy voice interrupted her thoughts yelling into the phone at her. "What do you mean that my dearest had a rough day! Is that why she wasn't answering me when I called her last night!"

Shy sighed as she pulled the phone away from herself, she was already quite used to the other skeleton interrupting her calls with oak. "It's okay Edge Drake's not hurt or anything she's just upset and needs some space so she can relax and think."

Edge just grumbles and hands oak the phone back, she can hear him stomping away while mumbling to himself. Oak just laughs and asks what she's cooking once Edge fully left the room. Shy giggles and as she continues cooking breakfast Oak tells her about the trip he and Edge are on.

What neither Shy nor Oak knew was that Edge had not just gone off to pout or grumble. Edge had decided as he closed his door behind him that if Drake was feeling bad then maybe he could send her a gift. After all, the great and Marvelous Edge couldn't be there right now for his beautiful date-mate but surely a gift would help her and make Drake smile!

So Edge plopped himself gracefully at the desk inside his room and opened up his laptop it was time to shower his gorgeous date-mate with gifts and he was gonna get the best dame gifts in the world for her!

---------------------------------------

Drake slowly opens her eyes up to see light coming in through her window. Somehow she had slept in and it was now late afternoon. As Drake got up to change she heard the front doorbell ring, not hearing her friend Shy yelling that she got it meant Drake would have to go answer the door herself.

Drake shuffled her way into the living room and noticed that Shy was passed out on the couch clutching her phone up against her chest. She sighed softly and went to turn off her best friend's phone, it wasn't the first time she had fallen asleep talking to oak nor would it be the last time most likely. Drake walked over to the door after she put Shy's phone down on the coffee table. Drake then opens the front door to see who rung the doorbell on the front doorstep to their apartment was a huge package with her name on it. After Drake grabbed the package grumbling a bit from how heavy it was she then shut the door and sat down beside the coffee table to open the package up.

"Maybe I should wake Shy up? I don't remember ordering anything?"

Drake then shook her head and decided she just open the package by herself.

-------------------

Shy was fast asleep on the couch after talking to Oak on the phone for the past five hours after making breakfast and putting the rest of it up in the fridge for Drake. She and Oak talked about how her work was going after a few hours of talking to her bonefriend shy had started to get sleepy, Oak told her it was okay and told her to take a nap.

After saying goodbye to Oak and asking him to check on edge for her shy decided to take Oaks advice and take a nap. She would then only wake up a half an hour later to the unfamiliar sound of Drake screaming. Shy rolled herself off the couch and readily got into a fighting position ready to defend her best friend.

After looking around and noticing that there was no one else in the apartment and that Drake was sitting on the floor in front of a large cardboard box she calmed down. Shy walked over to Drake with hesitant steps wondering what had happened, and what was in the box that made Drake scream that loudly. Slowly sitting down next to drake and watching her friends remove one of the hands covering her blushing face to point at the box Shy curiously tilted the box towards herself to look inside.

--------------------------

Sitting outside on the window still, a flock of pigeons once again flow off into the sky as a loud scream filled the air from the apartment they were sitting near.

(I wonder what was inside that box to make two young lady's blush and scream that loudly?)

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Abuelitas, Tantrums, and Ropa Vieja

Summary: With Lucia back from Florida and the squad aware of Rebecca and Catalina, Rafael decides it’s time to introduce them over his abuelita’s ropa vieja. Since he’s been able to maneuver his schedule to spend most days working from home, he assumes a trip to Whole Foods will be no problem, but Catalina isn’t used to hearing no from papi.

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OC

First Part-Second Part -Third Part - Fourth Part - Fifth Part

“Mami, I need to tell you something. Do you remember Rebecca?”

Rafael’s hand was squeezing hers. Now that Liv and her squad knew, Rafael was acutely aware word would travel. There was no logical way for news to reach Lucia, but he wanted to introduce Catalina to her, see the three most important women in his life in one room. He was, however, afraid of what she would say and how she would respond. Once she realized she loved Rebecca, pressure to get married would mount, and he was determined for them to take their time. There was also the possibility his mother would react poorly, questioning paternity or Rebecca’s motives. He couldn’t decide which option made him more nervous. 

“I did go see her while you were in Florida. And we’re together again. She forgave me. But mami, there’s something else.” His eyes flickered to the ceiling, the corner that would be under his sleeping daughter’s bed. “Mami, when I ignored her? She was pregnant.”

She could hear Lucia holding her breath, and Rebecca leaned to press a gentle kiss to Rafael’s shoulder, hovering there. His voice was less like the confident or penitent Rafael she’d seen; instead, he sounded a lot like Catalina did when she was afraid she’d be in trouble. He’d asked her to sit with him as he called his mom, and he held her hand like an anchor, green eyes fixed ahead. 

“Yeah, really. And she’ll be three in August. I moved in with them, not back to my place. Rebecca named her Catalina….Yeah, for abuelita. We want you to come over for dinner. Meet her….Rebecca tried to tell me. It’s not her fault you didn’t know….Mami, she didn’t know how to contact you. Trust me, she’s ecstatic for us to be here. And Cat looks like a Barba. EVerybody says she looks just like me….Yeah. Five is perfect. Becs will be home from school and I’m home with Cat all day….Eres una abuela ahora, mami….Si, yo soy un papa….Te amo. Nos vemos mañana por la tarde.”

He hung up, tongue between his teeth as he texted his mom a selection of pictures and videos. The ones from Christmas eve, New Years Eve, and nights in. Rafael was proudest of one Rebecca had sent him. She’d gotten home, neither Rafael or Catalina noticing her, and when she came to the living room, he was at his writing desk, face serious and Catalina making the same face at her easel beside him. Rebecca’s favorite picture of the father and daughter was from when he’d fallen asleep reading Catalina a bedtime story, curling up in his sleep on the child sized bed with their daughter against his chest. He sent mami that one too.

“Sounds like it went well.”

“I think she’s processing. She hasn’t thought I’ll ever have a partner or a child. But, she’s been playing step grandma to Enrique’s grandkids. I think she’s over the moon to have her own now. He’s in Florida another week or she’d be bringing him.”

“Catalina will be excited.”

“She’s been asking about meeting grandma. I’m making abuelita’s ropa vieja.”

“So I’m not even cooking?” she grinned. “It’ll be a good night.”

“We split it!” he defended, wrapping around her and propping his chin on her shoulder. “Mostly. But not when people come.”

“Exactly. Also, I want to try your abuelita’s ropa vieja.”

“I wish she could have met her namesake.”

“Me too.”

“She’d have liked you. Not how I ended up. But she’d have liked you.”

“She’d be proud of you, Rafa.”

“I was supposed to be a judge,” he shrugged. “Mami is disappointed too.”

“She’d happy that you’re happy, baby.”

“I know. But she can still wish I were an ADA or DA. She used to tell me to stick close to Alex too. And call me el juez.”

“She’d have changed her mind if she knew what he’d done. Rafael, she’s watching over you. I know she is.”

“Gracias, mi amor. Vamos a dormir. It’s late.”

The next day, Rafael saw Rebecca off to work, and it occurred to him this would be his first day running errands with Catalina while she was gone. He’d taken her the park and to the sitter or her uncles’ house. Now, as he bundled her up to go buy everything he’d need to cook dinner, he wondered if grocery shopping with a toddler would be as bad as the parents he’d seen in the past with children screaming for whatever had caught their eye. Then again, he hadn’t seen Catalina throw any fits. He had the collapsable bag and Catalina’s hand in his as they started towards the Whole Foods that he was thankful was within walking distance. Each time they left, he watched her like a hawk, but like clockwork, she’d asked him to carry her after a block.

“C’mon, mija,” he smiled softly, settling her into the cart carefully before he made his way to the meat counter. He hated grocery shopping normally. Rebecca had always teased him for how often they ordered food in. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy cooking, he just didn’t have time. Since finding out about Catalina and having the time to cook, he’d gone back to making the recipes he’d learned growing up and figuring out new things Catalina could help make. Grocery shopping remained unbearable, though, and he always ordered them delivered. Today, there wasn’t time, but he found that it was much more bearable as Catalina told him her favorite snacks and chattered away. He gave her Oh yeah?s and Very good, mijas st the right times, even adding the box of frosted cereal to the cart. He did not expect to lock eyes with Jack McCoy across the wine aisle, freezing with his hand on the bottle of red in the cart. 

“Rafael,” he greeted, shaking his hand. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“Jack. Yes you did,” he chuckled. “I went up against your ADA.”

“I suppose you did. But not my ADA. I retired.” The older man’s eyes went to Catalina, watching her father and the stranger. “She’s got to be yours.”

“She is,” he said, and Jack could see Rafael’s chest puff out with a pride he’d only ever seen in court. “Mija, this is papi’s friend, Mr. McCoy. Can you introduce yourself?”

“Hi, Mr. McCoy! I’m Cat!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cat.” The smile he gave Rafael was knowing. “It looks like leaving the DA’s office was the right move for you. In Whole Foods on a Friday? Defense work? Or stay at home dad?”

“Both. Innocence Project. I meet with clients on Mondays. Other than that I work from home and Cat goes to the sitter or her uncles for court days. I might give it all up to teach, though. I’m doing a class right now.”

“I didn’t know you had somebody, Rafael. She’d have been born after your trial.”

“I didn’t know until December. Her mom tried but I cut everyone off. Showed up to try and win her back. Got a two for one.”

“Fatherhood looks good on you.” 

“Thanks, Jack. I’m happy.” Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder as he passed, and Catalina looked up at her father. He smiled, kissing the top of her head. “You know papi loves you?”

“I love you too, papi.” 

He gathered the groceries, nerves high as he realized Catalina was getting tired. It struck him that it meant he’d be toting her on his hip and the groceries in the bag on wheels. They stood in the line, and she was reaching for every snack nearby. Each time, he took her hand and kissed her fingers, whispering a no softly. Each time, Catalina got increasingly annoyed, and one of his own expressions, mouth in a straight line and brow furrowed, looked back at him. She grabbed a packaged cookie when his wallet was out, and he sighed, taking it from her hand and anticipating the whimper that escaped her. 

Rebecca said he had to work on standing firm and telling Catalina no. It was fine when he had her, but the sitter, Al, and Rebecca were getting to deal with come aparts when she didn’t get her way. He was able to get his card put away before the wail escaped her. Free hand on the handle of the cart, he took her hand and was able to at least get her away from the register before she fell to the floor. Now he saw what Rebecca had warned him about. 

“Cat,” he said softly as he squatted beside her. “Come on, mija. Get up. We’ll go home and have lunch.”

“Cookie.”

“No, mija, you can’t have that. You have to eat lunch first.”

“Cookie.” 

“We can have cookies at home.”

Rafael didn’t like the way his face was heating up as he knelt, able to see the people around him looking. Were they judging him? Did he look like he was as bad at this as he felt right now? His first time not taking her to the park, and she’s screaming? He was also suddenly struck by memories of his own childhood the few times he’d cried. It infuriated him to think his father did anything but accept the red hot embarrassment that was a part of this. Rafael could handle the stares; he could never raise his voice, much less his hand, to her. But, he felt frustration build as he went to lead her out, and Catalina dropped as though her body were lead. A woman stepped past and he sent a tight lipped smile and received an understanding one in return. Dios mio, this must be part of the deal. 

“Mija,” he begged, desperation evident in his voice. “Please. We have to go home.” Does fatherhood still look good on me, Jack? God, McCoy could walk by at any moment. He wanted to just pick up Catalina and carry her screaming home, but when he went to, he received a sharp, definitive no. If there were two goals he had for Catalina, they were to know she was in charge of her person and that no one should ever hurt her. Keeping his temper in check was easier than he expected, but now, he recognized the former goal meant dropping to sit on the cold concrete floor of Whole Foods, back against the wall and Catalina laying beside him as he hammered out a text to Rebecca.

What stops a tantrum?

You have to wait it out or put her in the stroller.

I didn’t bring the stroller.

I told you. Always bring the stroller. You okay?

Fuck, she had. Just not this morning.  

Can’t triple chocolate chip cookies be lunch?

Did you tell her no?

Yeah. I want to take it back.

She’ll be fine. Tell me what’s happened.

She’s sleepy I think. Wanted snacks in line. I said no every time. Then she picked up the cookies while I was paying. I took them out of her hand and she lost it. I’m sitting on the floor by the wall while she screams. I’m a terrible father.  

Within moments, his phone rang, and just the sight of Rebecca’s contact photo calmed him slightly. 

“Please tell me I can just say yes.”

“She’s nearing the end of wailing,” she said, and he could hear the chatter of her students in the background. “Hear how the wail dies out instead of ending strong?”

“I don’t want to say no.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, hating the way his voice sounded: whiny and desperate.

“C’mon, papi, you gotta hold out. When it ends? She’ll take a nap and move on.”

“Or I could just buy the cookies. She’s crying. It hurts when she cries. I don’t like it.”

“Trust me, you’ll realize which cries are ‘I didn’t get my way’ and which cries are ‘I’m in emotional danger.’ I know it’s hard, baby.”

“I’m so bad at this. Everyone keeps staring.”

“If they have kids, it’s sympathetic. If they have kids and it’s not sympathetic, they’re dicks. Did you try picking her up?”

“She said no. So we’re sitting here.”

“This too shall pass. Welcome to the reality part of fatherhood.”

“I like being new and always the good guy.”

“When you give her lunch, she’ll forget she didn’t get the cookies. Probably before then.”

“What if we make cookies?”

“Whatever makes you both feel better.”

“Te amo, hermosa. Thank you.”

“Glad to coach you through. I love you. You’re an amazing father, okay? No one is good at tantrums.” He hung up, and when he looked ahead he saw McCoy give him a sympathetic smile. Of course he really would see Rafael on the floor now. He gave a salute and tired grimace. It took another few minutes for Catalina’s crying to stop. She looked at him with tear stained cheeks, and Rafael felt like an asshole. 

“Ready to go home, mija?” She nodded, sniffling as she held her arms up. He grunted as he stood from the floor, displeased with the way his knees cracked. Once she was settled on his hip, he pulled the basket behind them as they walked. Catalina looped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, and he smiled to himself. So it really was temporary. She was definitely tired now if she wasn’t before. He laid her on the couch when they were home, letting her sleep as he created the sauce for the ropa vieja and put the meat in to cook. It smelled like abuelita’s apartment on the cold nights he’d hidden from his father there, and she’d helped him study and fed him the comforting dish. He could still remember sitting at her table, feet dangling the day she saw the deep purple bruising along his side when he reached to get a dish for her. He hadn’t had to go home for a month.

He was always afraid some part of his father would burst forth. It had been two glorious months of being able to be a father, but he still found himself considering the possibility he’d change into some caricature of the elder Barba. The idea of raising his voice to Catalina was enough to make his stomach churn, and he knew he’d never do anything to hurt her or make her feel like he had. 

But surely his father never thought he’d beat his own son? Surely he’d looked at newborn Rafael, small and delicate, and had the same urge he did to protect his child? Whenever the thoughts got bad, every couple of weeks, he’d curl up beside Rebecca and tell her. That was certainly a difference. His father was always rage and disappointment; Rafael couldn’t imagine he’d expressed how he felt to his mother often, especially fear or happiness or sadness. Rebecca thought his desperation to be different was enough proof he wouldn’t end up like him.

When Catalina was awake, the rest of the day went by in a blur. He settled at his desk to grade papers, and halfway through, Catalina climbed in his lap with a notepad, doodling as he marked. That was how Rebecca found them when she got home, pressing a kiss to the top of their heads. It looked like they’d weathered the tantrum just fine. She’d worried about Rafael all day. In the time since they were last together, she’d gotten tougher. He’d gotten more emotional, and she knew this probably brought up a lot he didn’t want to think about, but she was confident now he’d talk to her about it before bed.

“Looks like everyone survived,” she teased gently. 

“Yeah. I just sat there until she was ready.”

“It sucks, I know. That’s why you always take the stroller. Maneuver her in.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“She’s two, Rafael. Testing boundaries. And then papi never says no.”

“Papi said no cookies,” Catalina said seriously.

“Did you get cookies later?”

“Yes,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.

“So when mama or papi says no, it isn’t always so bad?”

“No.” Her admission was reluctant, arms crossed in front of her and face serious. He laughed, closing up the folder. 

“Well, papi’s mami will be here soon. She’s your grandma. Abuelita.”

“Abuelita,” Catalina repeated, nodding. Rebecca took advantage of being home to sit with Catalina, who was determined they needed to draw together, as Rafael finished cooking. When his mother arrived, he nearly ran to the door, wrapped in an apron. Lucia had only seen her son on video calls while she’d been in Florida, and she realized when he opened the door that cameras couldn’t relay the way her his shoulders and jaw held less tension and his mouth sat in the slightest smile instead of a straight line. The sight of him in a polo shirt and jeans, with bare feet and an apron messy with the ropa vieja she could smell, was jarring in the best way.

“Mami,” he grinned, wrapping her in a hug. He’d always been her son when they were together, soft and sweet and doting, but he’d never seemed so calm. 

“Mijo,” she smiled, leaning back and gripping his forearms. “You look good. And it smells like abuelita’s recipe?”

“Sí. I think I haven’t made it for Rebecca before. And definitely not for Cat.”

“Let me see her.” Lucia was ecstatic, and she could just see the little brunette peaking around the wall. It warmed her heart to see Rafael go and kneel, hushed whispers between them before he picked her up with ease. He’d never been the best with children, but it seemed age, circumstance, and Olivia’s son had done enough to unlock the paternal part of him his mother had always known was hidden. Catalina’s arms were wrapped around her father’s neck, watching Lucia with curiosity. 

“Catalina, this is your abuelita.” His voice was gentle as he spoke, and Lucia leaned to look at her. It was like looking at Rafael when he was the same age. Her mouth was different, more like her mother’s, but the curls and eyes were him. The look as she inspected this new guest in their home was all Rafael as well. 

“Hi Catalina. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, abuelita.” Lucia could see the way the little girl focused on the word.

“I made you your papi’s favorite treat. They’re called pastelitos de guayaba.”

“What are those?”

“It just means guava pastries. Your papi used to eat them all when his abuelita and I made them.”

“I’ll share with him,” Catalina said seriously, wiggling in her father’s arms. He knew well enough to know that meant she was comfortable and let her down. “Gracias, abuelita.”

“Is papi teaching you Spanish?”

“Yeah! I ask him words and stuff. And I can count to ten!”

“Wow! You’re smart like him. Can you introduce me to your mami?”

Rafael put the box of pastelitos in the kitchen, turning the heat just high enough to keep everything warm before going to the living room. He watched Catalina, her abuelita’s hand in hers, march up to Rebecca. His abuelita was here; he could feel her presence. It was there in the patience with which his mother was already doting on Catalina, in the smell of the ropas viejas wafting through the house, in the way Catalina was proudly introducing her mother and grandmother. His abuelita had always been home and safety, even when his mother couldn’t provide the latter, and he had both now. He only wished she could see her namesake in the living room, now walking to introduce Lucia to each stuffed animal. He was incandescently happy for the first time, and Rebecca had finally gotten him to believe that would be enough for abuelita. 

When everyone came and sat around the kitchen table, plates piled with beans and rice and beef, the last part of him that felt like it was racing, desperate to prove he could be a good father, stilled. Today had included a tantrum in the market, but he’d weathered it without even raising his voice to Catalina. He was doing work that wouldn’t catapult him to judge, but it made him feel good. He was settled down with Rebecca and a daughter and could finally acknowledge he wasn’t his father. A combination of cherry picked defense work, the Innocence Project, and teaching were allowing him a serenity he hadn’t thought he’d get in his forty-nine years. In August, he’d reach fifty, and he was grateful to realize he’d reach it genuinely happy instead of mistaking success for happiness.

“¿Estás bien mijo?” Lucia had asked while Rebecca was feeding Catalina.

“Sí mamá. Estoy feliz.”

“Puedo ver que lo eres. Cuando te vas a casar con ella?”

“Tan pronto como puedo. Dale tiempo.”

[lupins-sweater]

Tea and Chocolate (part 3)

(Remus Lupin x American Reader)

Summary: Neither of them can take a hint

Warnings: brief mentions of sex, but nothing actually happens

Thank you to these very supportive writers @kalimagik @obsessedwithrandomthings @bforbroadway​ @poppin-potter​ for your help; I don’t know how to flirt!

You sat there with your chin resting on your hand wondering, “How on earth can someone so attractive be single?”. The sun coming in from the window illuminated Remus’s sand colored hair making it golden. His eyes. Oh Merlin, his eyes stood out in the warm lighting; they were like the color of melted caramel. His lips that always seemed to be curving upwards started moving which brought you out of your trance.

“Do you need help, Y/N?” the professor asked with a grin.

Your future coworker invited you into his room, so he could help create your lesson plans. This wasn’t exactly what the situation you hoped being in his room for the first time would be, but you weren’t going to complain.

His room smelled like old books, as there were plenty placed around the room. Tall shelves crammed with leather backed novels were pushed up against the wall. The only space on the wall not covered with books was where his four poster bed stood. A floor lamp and rather large, squashy chair sat in the corner, and you two sat at a square wooden table next to the window. It was rather cozy; Lupin chose to sit on the side of the table instead of the end, so he could see what you’re doing easier.

You immediately blushed, embarrassed at being caught staring. “O-oh. Yeah a little,” you lied. You had an idea of what you were doing, but you didn’t want Remus to know you were admiring his looks.

“I want my students to connect my lessons to other classes. Y’know, apply the information they’ve learned to other situations,” you continued.

The man sitting next to you mimicked your position and placed is chin on his hand. “Hmmm,” he pretended to think hard, twirling his pen in his long, slender fingers. “What if we did that with DADA and herbology? We could even join classes. I’m sure we can get the potions and transfiguration professor on board, too,” he suggested.

You immediately smiled. “That sounds great!”

Remus got up and walked to the bookshelf closet to the bed. He pulled out a black leather journal with papers sticking out which he handed to you. “This is where I record what I’ve done in my classes. Maybe we can see if there’s anything similar to what Sprout wrote in her book.”

He pulled his chair closer to you and sat back down. Without thinking, you inched closer, too; your leg barely touched his, but you blushed at the contact. He leaned closer to examine the former herbology teacher’s writing. His hot breath tickled your ear when he pointed out how gillyweed could be tied to his underwater lessons. You weren’t really paying attention, though. All you could think about was how you wanted to close the small space between you, how good he smelled, and the feeling of his breath against your ear.

Godric. Get a hold of yourself, Y/N. He’s just trying to help you, and all you can do is fawn over him.

Remus laughs nervously and leans away. You snapped out of yet another trance-like state and realized you’ve been staring at each other for the past minute. “W-what’s so funny?” you asked.

“Oh n-nothing,” he replies as he rubs the back of his neck. A light pink blush paints his cheeks. “Maybe we should take a break; we keep getting distracted.”

“Alright. Sounds good. See ya for tea tomorrow?” You said as you packed up your things.

Ever since you’ve helped him after his transformation, you and Remus have been basically inseparable. He loved confiding in you, but he loved hearing your stories of Ilvermorny more. You’ve been together so much, he could remember how you took your tea, your favorite sweaters, and what could make you laugh. (Even though you laughed at all his jokes and times told about the Marauders.) Your chocolate obsessed friend adored how you hung to every word he muttered, how you always supplied him with chocolate, and how you flustered you would get when he would wink or say something slightly suggestive.

You waved goodbye, leaving Remus still smiling at the door. 

----

The next night the tall, cardiganed man lightly knocked on the door, which you rushed to open. 

“Long time no see huh, Rem?” you tried to joke while stepping to the side.

He rolled his eyes and let out a breathy laugh. It wasn’t really funny, but he found himself laughing anyway. “I brought something you might like,” he said, pressing a package of Reese’s Cups into your hand.

Your face automatically lit up. “Rem!!! Oh my goodness!!! How did you get this?”

“I ordered some American chocolates after I heard you discussing them with the twins. I thought we could try them. This is your favorite?” Remus explained. He was kind of nervous you would be creeped out with him listening to your conversation, but you were over the moon. 

“Yes! I would love to!” you gushed, “People don’t really do things for me like this. You’re so ‘sweet’!”

He groaned and tried to feign annoyance, but his grin gave him away. You went over to the stove to pour the steaming tea; however, Remus put a hand on your arm. The room seemed to get warmer. 

“Allow me. You always go through the trouble of making it,” he leans in to tell you. You shiver under his touch. 

He knows. He has to know I like him.

“A-are you sure?” you ask trying to compose yourself.

 Apparently he didn’t seem to notice the chaos going inside your head. “Just a splash of milk where it’s a dark tan,” Remus said giving you the mug. 

You smiled to yourself as you took a sip. “You remembered?”

“Well. I’ve watched you make it how many times now?” He cringed as he thought,” That definitely didn’t sound creepy.” 

“Fair enough,” you admitted, “How are you?” You pushed the wooden desk chair toward him.

“I’m alright. Thank you,” he sipped from his cup and played with the handle. “I’m sorry, Y/N, for disappearing for so long. I was afraid you would find out about my condition and not want to chat with me anymore. Not many would willingly befriend a werewolf. I never really apologized.”

You looked at him for a moment before answering, “Rem, I hope you know I’m not upset. You are the most kind, thoughtful person I’ve ever met, and I’m from another country! I don’t care if you’re a werewolf or a lamp; I’m always in the mood to talk to you.”

His eyes began to water as he processed what you said. He finally met your gaze and slowly reached for your hand, letting you have plenty of time to move your hand away. Your heart raced as you laced your fingers together; both of you blushed furiously. 

He swallowed hard, trying his best not to cry. “Thank you. I truly appreciate you coming here, Y/N. I cannot wait to work with such a magnificent professor.”

“Ugh. You’re going to make me cry,” you replied setting your mug on the vanity to wipe away your tears. 

You glanced at your joined hands and admired the look of them. 

I hope he feels the same way I do. I mean is it normal for friends to hold hands? you thought.

After a moment of sitting in silence, Remus freed his hand to refill the mugs. “How are you today?” he inquired.

You sighed and took the warm cup. “I’m doing okay. Although I’m still having trouble sleeping.”

He brought his chair closer to you with a concerned expression. “You’re having nightmares again?”

“Yes. I guess I’m really stressed with everything going on lately. It also doesn’t help we can’t get out of the house. But tea nights really seem to make things better; I don’t have nightmares. Just wacky dreams.”

“Oh? Like what if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t quite remember them, but there was this one where I was in this huge mansion. I had to watch demonstrations about electricity.”

Remus laughed. “That’s what you dream about?”

You teased him with a cheeky smile, “Yeah. Disappointing that they’re not about you.”

He blushed and decided to play along, “Well. You do enough daydreaming about me anyway.”

You were glad no one could hear your thoughts, because they were screams. 

AAAAHHHHHHHH He knows???? 

The blush spread to your ears and neck. If he didn’t know, he knows now. Remus blushed too since he now knew you thought about him. He quickly changed the subject. 

“Why don’t we open up the candy?” he asks.

He opens the wrapper and pulls out two Reese’s Cups. You watched his reaction as you sank your teeth into the peanut butter chocolate candy. He took a bite and nodded. 

“This isn’t bad. Quite good actually,” he said turning a darker shade of pink, “Oh. And Y/N?”

“Yes, Rem.”

“If- if you ever have trouble sleeping, you can always drop by my room.”

You smiled and winked. “That sounds lovely.”

Lupin’s face was now red.

——

Tea and Chocolate

@bi-andready-tocry @pregnant-piggy

[mca-attack21]

After

A/N: This is the second part of Too Late. 

Peter went back to the tower and received the needed medical attention. His aunt would show up and be so relieved that he was in one piece. She would hold him as he cried and tell him that everything would be okay while silently cursing the world for being so cruel to the young boy who deserved a break. After a while, she would have to leave with Happy to start sorting everything out. Other Avengers would come in and offer Peter their condolences, promising that they would be there for him if he needed anything. Tony practically moved into Peter’s room, not wanting to leave him alone. The worst part came when Y/n’s mother showed up. He expected her to scream at him for killing her daughter. But instead, she just told him how relieved she was that he was okay. She cried, he cried, she explained to him that the funeral would be held a week later and asked that he speak if he was up for it. She reminded him of how much you loved him and told him that he could come by any time. 

Two days later he went back to his Aunt’s apartment. Everywhere he looked he saw you, memories flashing. He remembered the countless movie marathons (and maybe make-out sessions) on the couch. He remembered disasters in the kitchen and the flour fight you had when he discovered you trying to bake his birthday cake last year. He remembered chasing you through the halls, both of you laughing, him kissing you when he caught you in his arms. He slowly made it up to his room trying to keep it together. But, that was honestly pointless. As he opened the door, he saw the multiple shirts he had tried on before your date sprawled across his bed. He pushed them on to the ground and laid down just wanting everything to stop for a minute. But his mind refused him such pleasantries.

Instead, he thought about the nights you had spent studying together. The time that you had discovered he was Spider-Man. He replayed multiple conversations the two of you had had. He remembered the day he asked you out, your first date, the times he went to your house after a particularly bad night whether it was to be patched up or just to talk. His mind continued on like that until he eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Aunt May came in and brought Peter breakfast which he hardly touched. She sighed as she was at a loss for what to do. He stayed in his room all day, only getting up to use the restroom. He just wanted to be left alone and she tried to respect that, no matter how hard it was to watch him push her away again.

After two more days of refusing visitors and ignoring the outside world, Peter’s aunt informed him that your mother had called and asked him to stop by. He honestly didn’t want to, but he figured he owed her that much. So he forced himself to shower and get dressed. He then proceeded to walk the too familiar path to your apartment, which again was accompanied by various memories that caused his chest to hurt. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this. He eventually made it outside your door, thinking about the first time he kissed you, right there in that hallway. He hesitated, and finally knocked softly.

Your mom answered and Peter could see how upset she was, not that anyone could blame her. She invited him to come inside and take a seat on the couch. He still didn’t know exactly why he was here.

“I went today to get her stuff- from the car. This- I think it belongs to you,” she said handing him the small ring box with the promise ring he planned on giving you that night. As he took it, his eyes closed as he tried not to cry again, not in front of your mom. She too was on the verge of tears as he pulled something else out of the bag. “Th-this was in the trunk, it was her anniversary gift for you, she’d been working on it for weeks,” she said taking a deep breath and handing it to him. It was very neatly packaged in blue wrapping paper with a red ribbon. He turned it over in his hands.

Noticing his hesitation, your mother reassured him that he didn’t have to open it now. He just stared at it. 

“Can I get you anything, Peter? Maybe something to drink? Or to eat? People keep dropping off casseroles,”

“I’m good, thanks,” he replied clearing his thoughts.

“You can go up to her room if you want, I like to go in there. It makes me feel closer to her,” she added.

“Yeah, I think I might do that.”

He absentmindedly walked up to your room. It looked exactly the same as it had when he had last seen it. He looked over your photo wall, glancing through the pictures mostly of the two of you. You were smiling and/or laughing in 99% of them. Seeing them brought a smile to his face. He walked around the rest of your room thinking about the time the two of you had spent together there. He took in your familiar scent and felt if only for a moment at peace. 

After a while, he made his way back downstairs. He thanked your mom and told her to reach out if she needed anything. She asked him if he planned on saying anything at your funeral on Saturday and he told her that he would. Though to be honest he had forgotten that that was even a thing. Not the funeral, just the speaking part. He would have to start thinking about it.

When he returned to his apartment, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find one of Tony’s cars was parked around the corner.

“Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Tony asked as Peter entered.

“As well as can be expected,” he replied setting down the boxes from your house before sitting across from Tony.

“I wanted to check-in, and bring you this,” he said handing him a small shoebox,”

Peter was confused, to say the least. “Mr. Stark you didn’t have to get me anything,”

“I didn’t, it’s from Y/n. She gave it to me a few months ago, made me promise to hold on to it just in case something ever happened,” he explained waiting to see how Peter was going to react.

“She’s unbelievable,” Peter chuckled, the stopped was he thought. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” Tony asked most likely at Aunt May’s request.

“Not really, but I’m fine,” 

“Are you sure, I can have Happy can go pick something up and bring it by, he’s been worried about you,”

“I’m good, thanks though”

“Peter I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how hard all of this is for you, especially right now. You know that I and everyone else are here for you. If there is anything that any of us can do, all you have to do is say the word and we’re here.”

“I know Mr. Stark, thank you,”

“Okay kid, I’m going to give you some space so you can open that -when you’re ready. Make sure you eat something, if not for you, do it for your aunt who’s worried about you. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you Saturday.”

“See you Saturday,” Peter mumbled before taking the three boxes upstairs to his room. 

He sat and stared at the anniversary gift and the apparent contingency plan. He debated which one to open first or whether he wanted to open either of them. Okay, that was stupid, obviously, he was going to open them. It was just a matter of when and in which order. After some thought, he made up his mind and picked up the blue box unwrapping it carefully. Inside, was a scrapbook. It had pictures from kindergarten to the present, but that wasn’t all that it had. It also contained some of your artwork and small memorabilia. For example, there were tickets from various movies, the receipt from your first date, the ribbon from the science fair the two of you won, and other things that Peter had absolutely no idea that you kept. His favorite part though was your handwritten additions. Small notes, song lyrics, quotes, and memories that you used to embellish the pages. You had narrated the entire story and it was beautiful. He spent hours going through it carefully, not wanting to miss anything.

When he finished, he put it back in the box and set it aside. He debated whether he wanted to also open the shoebox tonight as he had just been on an emotional roller-coaster. He hesitantly pulled it closer to him and pulled off the lid. There was a note on top which he read first.

Dear Peter, 

I hope that this note never has to be read. However, it needs to exist. So, here we go I guess. In this box, you will find two things, first a Funko Pop! and secondly a flash drive with a video that I recorded for you. 

The Funko Pop! is Kylo Ren. And you may be asking yourself why out of every character in existence, I would choose him. So here’s my reasoning: 1. You love Star Wars 2. I’m guessing that the world seems a little darker than normal right now, so I figured that he could serve as a reminder that no matter how far into the “dark side” you go that there is always redemption and light.

I love you Peter Benjamin Parker.

Forever and Always,

Y/f/n Y/l/n 

Peter took out the Funko Pop! And set it on his desk as he retrieved his laptop and queued up the video. He tried to mentally prepare himself for it, but it was no use.

Hi Peter,

So if you are seeing this something happened to me. I don’t know whether it was Spider-Man related or not. I guess it really doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you not to blame yourself. And believe me, I know you well enough to know that you will try to. Even if I live to be 102 and die peacefully in my sleep of natural causes you’d still be looking for a way to blame yourself. That’s kinda your thing, putting the weight of the world on your shoulders. Anyways, no matter what happened, it wasn’t your fault. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to be your friend, partner in crime, and your girlfriend.

You are so good Peter. You are truly a breath of fresh air. While others actively ignore the pain and suffering in the world, you go out of your way to make a difference. You protect those who can’t protect themselves and you never expect anything in return. Your life has presented you with so many challenges and so many reasons to turn cold, but instead, they made you kind.

Please keep fighting. Don’t lose hope, find something that inspires you, and use it to make you better. Make the most of every minute because life is unpredictable, beautiful, and ephemeral. That’s kinda the whole point isn’t it?

I could keep talking to you for hours, but at the same time, I feel like there isn’t much more to be said.

I love you Peter, and I know that you will get through this. I believe in you and know that you will do great things in life. There is nothing that you can’t do if you put your mind to it. Keep fighting the good fight. Or should I say keep swinging the good swing. Maybe I should go for, ‘May the Force be with you’? Hopefully that made you laugh or at least smile. God, your smile can save lives. So I feel that it is my personal duty right here and now to remind you to smile everyday. More importantly be the reason someone else smiles.

The world can be dark and scary and cruel. But there is so much beauty and goodness. You just have to seek it out. I wish you the absolute best this world has to offer. I love you, always and forever.  

Oh by the way, just in case there is any doubt, I am totally okay with you move on. In fact I want you to. Find a girl that makes you happy, who makes you more, and then allow yourself to enjoy it. Absolutely under no circumstance do I want you to use me as an excuse to stop living. 

Stay Gold Spider-Man.

And with that, the camera clicked off and the video ended. Peter replayed it again, taking in your voice and smile. This whole thing felt so surreal, like a bad dream that he had simply yet to wake from. That video though, it was something he hadn’t realized that he needed until he had seen it. It was like the fog was beginning to clear and he knew that everything would be okay.

When he woke up, he ate half of his lunch, which satisfied Aunt May. He then sat at his desk to do the impossible task before him. He had to figure out what it was that he wanted to say at your funeral the next day. He must have written and deleted at least 10 speeches. Nothing was good enough. It needed to be perfect. He would sit there in front of that computer for hours. When he finished, he was entirely shocked to see that it was after 2 am. 

May woke him up so that he had plenty of time to get ready for the service. The drive there was silent and Peter was thinking over his speech. When he arrived, Tony came to greet him. He wasn’t surprised to see many of the avengers in attendance. You were always with him at the tower and had become close to several of them. The service was short and sweet, your mom spoke, and then she asked for him to come up and say a few words. 

It was in the moment that he reached the podium that he decided to entirely disregard his speech. And instead, speak from his heart. 

“From the time I was a little kid, I always wanted to be one of the avengers. I wanted to have superpowers and make the world a better place. Y/n taught me that you don’t have to have powers to change the world. You just have to make a choice to be kind and do the right thing. She was one of the bravest and most beautiful people I have ever met. She always saw the best in people and went out of her way to make a difference in the lives of others. She radiated kindness, and inspired those who knew her. She always was there for me and never gave up on me. She taught me how to find the good in everything. She was the love of my life, my best friend, and my hero. She taught me how to become something more than I ever thought I could be. She saved my life in more ways than one and I will carry her with me every day of my life.” he finished quickly returning to his seat.

After that, you were buried and everyone went their separate ways. The following Monday, Peter finally went back to school. It wasn’t easy, but he had to start somewhere. It would take him three more days before he was able to put the Spider-Man suit back on. From there, he took it day by day. Some were harder than others, but he persisted. He walked at graduation and then swung by your grave to talk to you about his future plans. He was sure that you were proud of him. He spent most of his summer in the Avengers tower with Tony. In the fall, he’d be attending college. And from there who knew what would happen. But whatever life threw at him, he would remember to seek out the good and to do kindness recklessly as you had taught him.

[booksarelife-stuff]

The Story of Us- Chapter 2

Jily (James Potter/ Lily Evans), minor wolfstar

Word Count: 

Modern Muggle AU. When Lily Evans meets the man across the hall due to a fire alarm, she has no idea that a new chapter of her life has begun. Featuring a librarian Lily and sports journalist James.

Masterlist     Read on AO3  Chapter 3

Chapter 2- and the sparks fly...

Lily had found her love of libraries in secondary school. She remembers one day, specifically that started it all. 

Petunia, Lily’s tight-lipped older sister, had gotten all her friends to make fun of her in front of everyone. Lily didn’t remember what it was that day that the gaggle of girls had decided to torment Lily on. It could have been just a simple “freak” thrown her way in the hallway. 

What Lily does remember though, is finding solace in the library. She remembers running in there, looking for a private place to cry. She had sat in the back, near the reference section that was barely touched since the age of the internet. She started doing her homework there and more importantly started realizing that escaping into books was easier when she was surrounded by them. 

The library Lily now called home was an old building, untouched by the modern buildings surrounding it. It was made of stone and when you walked in, you were greeted by the musky scent of old books. 

This library had also brought more than a safe place in her adult life, but friends as well. Remus Lupin was the overseer of the adult non-fiction and reference section. Lily was convinced that man was Google. She could ask him anything about anything he’d probably have an answer. Then there was the children’s librarian from downstairs, Marlene McKinnon. Marlene was vibrant and offered great critiques of all the new teen show adaptations of young adult novels. 

Lily had finally found a home for herself. 

Lily was sitting at the circulation desk, waiting for patrons. Remus was running a workshop for homeless members of the community to get jobs and they had had a nice turn out. Lily had spent all night packing lunches for them and was yawning every five seconds. 

She was tired and she didn’t notice the man who stepped up to the desk. 

“Hey Lily,” a deep voice said. Lily’s throat filled with bile. 

She looked up to see Severus Snape, a barista from across the street at the Starbucks. Also, her sort-of-ex. 

Lily looked up and gave her customer service a smile. 

“Hello Severus,” she said. “Did you find everything you needed?” 

“Yes, I did,” he drawled. 

“Great,” she said. She reached out for his book and library card. She tried not to make a face at the book he was checking out, something about government conspiracies, and scanned his card. Lily should have been surprised that he was even here at all, especially since Lily had to deal with a lot of talks that revolved around the internet making libraries useless from him. But he showed up, like clockwork. 

“You have a late fee,” she said. “It’s only a pound.” 

Lily checked out his book while he pulled out his wallet. She marked the fee as paid as he slid the pound over the desk. Lily handed him his card and book back. 

“Due in two weeks. Have a great day,” she said, smiling. 

“I was wondering if we could talk for a second,” he asked. Lily looked up into his deep brown eyes. She really didn’t want to, but she couldn’t think of an excuse, as there weren't any other patrons. 

“About what, Severus?” she asked. 

“Have you changed your mind yet?” he asked. 

Lily mentally counted down from five in her head, trying to bite back the anger that flared inside of her. That was the thing with Severus. To him, he never did anything wrong and it was Lily that was holding the relationship back.

“No, afraid not,” she said, her tone coming out sharp. Severus’s nostrils flared a bit. 

“That’s unfortunate,” he said. 

“Is it?” she quipped. 

His eyes flashed but the door swung open, stopping whatever he was about to say. Lily’s flickered to the new patron but did a double-take. 

Standing there was James, Lily’s neighbor. He was wearing a white button up with a red tie and black slacks. The sleeves were rolled up, showing his arms again and the tie hung loosely from his neck. He had a black messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. 

He gave Lily a small and a wave. He stood behind Severus, waiting in line. Severus looked pissed off as Lily’s eyes turned back to him. 

“Is that all you need, sir?” Lily asked. 

“Yes,” Severus spat. He grabbed his book and turned sharply. He walked out of the door. 

Lily smiled widely as James stepped up to the counter. 

“Hey neighbor,” James said, running a hand through his already messy hair. 

“Hey. What brings you to the library?” she asked.

“I heard that books contain knowledge and I need a specific kind,” he said. “And a library card.”

“Let’s get you a card first,” she said. 

She learned James’s full name was James Fleamont Potter. She tried not to make a face at his middle name but James responded with a quick “yeah I know.” She learned his birthday was March 27 and that she was older than him by a few months. 

She handed him his card and a little flyer that had instructions about their app that would let him browse their online collection and place holds on books they had on the shelves. 

“So, what specific knowledge would you be needing today?” she asked. 

“Ah well, remember the professional bowling team I mentioned?” 

“The Cannons?”

“That would be it,” he said. “I need books on bowling. I know most of the rules of football and rugby, but I seem to be lacking some expertise on the intricacies of bowling.”

Lily laughed and started typing in their system. 

“And you couldn’t Google that?” 

James did a dramatic gasp that made Lily look up at him. 

“Did a librarian just say I should Google something? That’s a sort of sacrilege,” James said, his hazel eyes wide with fake horror. 

Lily laughed and turned back to her computer screen. She told him the number of the Dewey he could use to find books on bowling and he blinked at her. 

“Let me guess,” she said. “Unfamiliar with the system?”

“Yeah. And this library,” he said. 

Lily motioned for him to follow her. If Remus was available, he’d be able to go directly to the space on the shelf that contained books about bowling. It took Lily a minute to find them. She left James to browse and went back to the desk to find Marlene sitting at Lily’s portion of the desk.

“Hey Lil,” she said, stopping her spinning in her chair. 

“Hey Marls,” she said. 

“I’m on break,” she said, tossing her thick blonde hair over her shoulder. “I also have a story.”

“Do tell,” Lily said, taking her seat at the computer. 

“A girl came in with her mother looking for a book,” she began, her blues eyes turning animated. “And I would have guess she was looking for the latest John Green or something, but this girl walks up to the desk and asks point-blank ‘Do you have Gone Girl?’”

Marlene took a dramatic inhale while Lily started smiling. 

“She had to be no older than thirteen! And she wanted ‘Gone Girl!’” she exclaimed. 

“Please tell me you didn’t let her check out ‘Gone Girl’?” Lily asked. 

“Well, we aren’t in the business of judging are we?” Marlene said. “Our physical copy is checked out but I showed her how she could read it through our app.”

Lily laughed. 

“Isn’t that book the one where the wife fakes her death?” James asked. Lily spun around to see James leaning against the counter, two books sitting in front of him. 

“It is,” Marlene answered. She got up and stood next to Lily at the circulation desk. “Have you read it?”

Lily rolled her eyes as she scanned James’s card. Marlene would flirt with anything that moved, even though she had a lovely girlfriend waiting at home for her. 

“I haven’t but my brother made me watch the movie,” James replied. “I really enjoyed it.”

Marlene hummed as Lily checked out the books to James. He had gotten two books, one about the theory of bowling, which Lily didn’t think was a thing, and one of different techniques and rules. 

“Here you are,” Lily said, sliding the books back. “Please take a bookmark or two!”

“Yes please,” Marlene said. “Please don’t dog ear the pages.”

“Will do,” James said, picking up a colorful bookmark. “See you around, Lily.”

He gave her a small before turning away and walking out the door. Once he was gone, Marlene lightly hit Lily’s arm. 

“He was totally flirting with you!”

“He was not,” Lily said, though she hadn’t really thought about it to determine if he was or not. 

“‘See you around, Lily,’” Marlene quoted, her eyebrows high on her forehead. 

“He’s my neighbor.”

Marlene widened her eyes even more. 

“Since when did you get a hot neighbor? What about the old man?”

“James moved in a few weeks ago,” Lily replied. “He was the guy who brought his cat out during the fire alarm.”

Marlene started laughing. Lily had mentioned him when she saw Remus and Marlene the next day, but just focused on the cat. She didn’t tell them about their conversation. 

“Well,” Marlene said. “I need to go back. But we aren’t dropping this James conversation.”

“There really isn’t much to be said,” Lily said as Marlene started towards the stairs. She turned before she headed down giving Lily a look. 

“Then there needs to be,” she said. “He is ten steps up from Severus and I think you need to jump on that quickly.”

~~~

Lily waved at the security officer at the desk as she passed. Moody was scary looking fellow, but once Lily brought him sweets, he softened up to her. He always guarded her packages. 

She quickly got her mail and got in the elevator with a nice old woman from the third floor. The ride was silent and once Lily made it to her apartment she collapsed on her couch, throwing her bag on the floor and the mail on her coffee table. The afternoon had gotten busy for her, as the after work crowd had come in around five. Not that she was going to complain that so many people were still using the library. 

She debated ordering take-out, not feeling up to cooking but she couldn’t decide on what sounded best. She sat up and picked up her mail. It was mostly junk but she found a handwritten letter. She looked quickly at the name and realized it wasn’t hers, but was addressed to James from a Euphemia Potter. 

Lily sighed and slipped her flats back on. She didn’t know if James was home yet, but she figured she’d at least try before she forgot. She left her door open as she made her strides to his apartment door and knocked three times. 

“One sec!” she heard James call. She waited as she heard the thump of his footsteps get closer to the door. 

He opened it, smiling. He had already changed out of his work clothes and was wearing a shirt that was old and faded and his sweatpants. 

“Lily,” he said. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

Lily held out the piece of mail, returning his smile.

“This was in my box,” she said. He looked down at the letter as he took it from her, his glasses low on his nose. 

“Oh bugger,” he said. “Sorry about that. My mum seems to have put the wrong number. I’ll call and let her know she doesn’t do it again.”

“It’s not a problem,” she said. “I figured you would want a handwritten letter sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah. Mum’s a bit old fashioned,” James said, smiling. He leaned against the doorframe, his hazel eyes looking directly at Lily.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” Lily said, turning away. 

“Wait!” James said, causing Lily to turn back. “I was just about to start Outlander.”

“Wait, really?” she asked. She couldn’t believe that he was going to sit down and watch the show because she mentioned it to him. 

“Yeah,’ James said, running a hand through his hair. “I was just about to order some curry, too. Wanna join?”

Lily blinked and James' face quickly fell. He started babbling. 

“Not like a date or anything!” he started. “You’re just the first person I’ve really talked to since moving here and I think you’d be a, a great friend—”

“I’d love to, James,” she said, talking over his babbling. James smiled brightly. 

She told him the best curry place that delivered in town and her order. She wanted to change into something more comfortable before they started so she ran back to her apartment. 

Normally, Lily would be reserved about these kind of things, but James didn’t seem to be a threat. He had been nice enough and Marlene had always said she needed to put herself out there more. If that included eating curry while watching Outlander, she was more than happy to oblige. 

She put on some leggings and an oversized jumper. She quickly put her hair up. She grabbed her phone and keys. She was almost out the door when she remembered a tub of ice cream she had in the freezer. She ran back and grabbed it, hoping James was a fan of brownie batter. 

When she knocked, James let her in. 

“Oh, ice cream?” he asked. 

“Yep. Like brownie batter?” she asked. His eyes lit up. 

“Yes! My favorite,” he said. “Besides mint chocolate chip.”

Lily made a face. 

“Mint chocolate chip taste like bad tooth paste,” she said. 

James let out an offended noise as he took the ice cream from her and walked towards the fridge. 

“It does not!”

Lily smiled and looked around James' apartment. He had a decent sized television and a large gray sectional that looked soft. Buttercream was napping on the top of the couch, his tail flicking back and forth. 

It wasn’t really decorated, Lily noted. He had a few pictures up but the walls were bare. Lily noticed some books on his entertainment center and went and looked at them. They were mostly about sports, rules and techniques, and whatnot. Lily also noticed the books he checked out earlier on his coffee table, one of them with a bookmark already in it. 

“So,” James began entering the living room. “How much do you think I’m going to like the show?”

Lily hummed for a second. 

“I think you’ll either get really into it or you’ll be indifferent,” she said. “I don’t know you well enough to give a better judgement. I don’t think you’ll hate it though.”

“Fair enough,” he said, petting Buttercream. “I looked it up and it sounds quite interesting.”

“Are you a big fan of period pieces?” Lily asked. James glanced up at her with a smile. 

“Don’t tell my brother this,” he started. “If you ever meet him. But yes, I am.”

Lily smiled. 

“What’s your favorite?” she asked. She watched as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“My mum made me watch Pride and Prejudice so many times, I can recite the movie line by line,” he said. 

Lily felt unbridled glee. That was her favorite movie, hands down. She knew it wasn’t accurate to the book but the tension between the characters in the movie drew Lily in more than anything. 

“The 2005 movie?” she asked, her excitement showing. 

“Yep. We did watch the BBC version quite a few times though,” James said. “I love Colin Firth, but there’s just something about the movie.”

They talked excitedly about the movie, comparing the two adaptations when their food arrived. Once they had settled on the couch, take-out containers and plastic forks in hand, James went to Netflix and started Outlander. 

[tirednotflirting]

"I knitted you a jumper" with bach lashton (ashton is the one knitting obvs)

meghna you are the loml and this was so fun to spend the afternoon on, esp after trying to write these two again for AGGGGGES and coming up with something. so i hope you enjoy this <33333

can be read here on ao3 bc it’s like 3k bc i kinda ran away with this lol

Luke could pinpoint the exact moment the need for a hobby like knitting must have jumped into Ashton’s mind.

He always tried his hardest to wake up by late morning on his days off so his whole day wasn’t wasted away on sleep and could instead be spent running daytime errands or lounging about with Ashton. They had both nestled into each other’s homes pretty permanently in the last few months, their closets and grocery favorites split pretty evenly between Luke’s apartment and Ashton’s little hideaway. (Though Luke has to admit that his heart still flutters any time Ashton calls his little place home.)

It’s also pretty typical that his days off always begin with lazy cuddles beneath warm sheets before one of their stomachs starts throwing a tantrum for breakfast or Ashton decides it’s coffee time. But on one particular morning in late September, Luke wakes up alone, his arms reaching out for a warm body beside him only to find the sheets pushed toward him and the space cold, evidence that Ashton had been up for more than just a quick run into the bathroom. Luke sits up and lets the sheets fall to pool around his waist, his chest bare and cold without his human space heater to keep him cozy. His lips drop into a pout as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and he reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s just before noon but he doesn’t remember Ashton mentioning anything about morning plans. 

He drops the phone back onto the bedside table he’s claimed at the home Ashton’s taken up residence at since his “death” earlier in the year. It still never fails to astound Luke how Ashton’s careful way of living has been enough to keep the public believing the whole thing but some days he finds himself thankful for it. He knows their paths likely never would have crossed without it. Well, that and the fact that apparently Luke’s grocery store friend Calum turned out to be a childhood friend of Ashton’s from back home in Australia.

(The two of them had had a good laugh about the whole ordeal about a month or so into this thing that Ashton and Luke have had going since their initial meeting. Sometime in early summer Ashton had mentioned that the friend that owned the place was going to come over for dinner and Luke can only imagine how funny the face he made must have been upon seeing Calum walk through the front door.)

Luke wanders into the closet and pulls on one of Ashton’s jumpers before wandering out in the direction of the kitchen. His favorite mug sits on the island and he smiles after realizing it’s already filled, the color indicating that Ashton added the cream and sugar for him already. He lifts the mug to his lips and takes a sip while glancing around the room since he still hasn’t spotted Ashton. But then some movement just beyond the window tells him where to find his boy. 

He pushes at the sliding door that leads into the backyard, Ashton’s massive garden taking up most of the space. Ashton stands in the middle of all of the plots that once held all kinds of summer fruits and vegetables. Even from the door though, Luke can tell that something is wrong. Ashton looks like he’s having an argument with himself but also just looks a bit sad. Luke leaves the back door open (every day they get closer and closer to the point in the year where the weather will no longer allow the fresh air in the kitchen and they’ve been trying to take advantage of it while they can) and wanders over to where Ashton stands, his arms crossed and forehead wrinkled. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Luke greets him, his voice still scratchy from sleep. Once close enough he presses a kiss against the creases in Ashton’s forehead and he feels them relax just the slightest bit beneath his lips. “What’s bugging you?”

Ashton sighs defeatedly and lets his arms unfold to wrap around Luke’s waist, his head dropping to his shoulder. “I picked a very summer oriented hobby. And now I don’t know what I’m going to do until spring.”

The concern Luke had noticed in Ashton’s face makes sense now. Ashton liked to stay busy, he went a little crazy without a project (the years of working in TV seemed to have left that effect even with the way he had found a way to escape that world). The back garden had been a great answer of where to expend all of that energy and their climate and location really wouldn’t allow it again until the spring. He was right.

Luke lifts his free hand to play with the grown out, faded black curls at the back of Ashton’s head. “How about some house plants? We’ve got great light in the living room here and at the apartment?” 

“I don’t know,” Ashton shrugs against Luke’s chest. “Just isn’t the same as getting to spend all day out here, I guess. But I could give it a shot.” 

Luke lifts his other arm to wrap around Ashton’s shoulders, careful that he doesn’t spill his mug. Ashton lifts his head from his shoulder and Luke finds himself pouting at the sad look in the hazel eyes across from him. “Don’t worry, Ash. You’ve got such a creative mind, you’ll figure out something.”

A small smile pulls at Ashton’s lips. “Mm, yeah, you’re right,” he starts as he lifts his face to press his lips against Luke’s cheek. “I’m going to go get what’s left from the green bean plants and we can do them with dinner? And would you mind unlocking the front door? Calum said he was going to stop by with a package from my mom.”

“Sure thing.” Luke drops his arms from around Ashton and lifts his mug for another sip. “Gonna make more coffee too. You want another mug?”

“Yes, please.”

Luke heads back in the direction of the house, his mind wandering with ideas for house plants he remembers his mom keeping around growing up as suggestions to share later. He stops just before reaching the door and turns back toward the corner of the yard that Ashton has made his way over to. “And don’t forget your hat if you’re going to be out here much longer.”

“Of course, love.”

Luke smiles, the domesticity of all of this hitting his heart for just a moment, and makes his way back inside to refill the kettle.

* 

It’s a few weeks into November when the boxes arrive at Luke’s door. 

Ashton’s family had been visiting for the week and Luke wanted to make sure they had proper family time so he had made the choice to stay at the apartment in between shifts that week. He had come over for dinner to meet everyone earlier in the week but after that had left them to reconnect at the house.

He had just woken up about an hour earlier when he hears a knock at the door. There’s no one there when he goes to open it but there are probably close to ten small packages (why they couldn’t have all just been in one big one is beyond him) all addressed to Fletcher Hemmings.

(When Ashton started using the name to get orders delivered to Luke’s place, the brightest blush had painted it’s way across Luke’s face in an instant. 

“What?” Ashton had questioned, honestly. “Hardly anyone really knew my middle name anyway and it’s so much less suspicious showing up at your door if it’s got your last name on it.”

Luke spent the rest of the week with the thought of sharing a last name with Ashton on a constant loop.)

He knows he needs to finish getting ready and head off to the hospital soon, so Luke texts a picture of all of the boxes sitting on the kitchen counter to Ashton with a few question marks and finishes his normal run through the apartment searching for his scrubs (the turquoise ones, of course, since it’s Friday) and makes a coffee before heading down to his car. 

His phone starts ringing as he’s parking at the hospital. Luke smiles at the selfie of Ashton kissing his cheek before sliding his thumb across the screen and lifting the phone to his ear. “Doing some early holiday online shopping, are we?”

“Ha, not exactly. But the family has just headed off the airport so I’m going to head over and make sure everything got delivered, if that’s alright?”

Luke smiles softly as he hits the lock button on his car and heads toward the entrance of the hospital. “At some point you’re going to have to realize you can give up on this whole asking permission to come over. Ash, you literally get packages delivered there and have a key, of course you can come over.”

He hears a dramatic sigh on the other side of the line. “I know, I know. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bright and early, as always,” Luke says while holding his ID card to the door to get the automatic doors to open up. He heads down the hall in the direction of his department, waving to those he passes with a smile. “You think you’ll be down for a sugary breakfast? I’ve had French toast on the brain all week and I want to hear all about your time with the family.”

“Yes absolutely, but I’m going to pick up some fruit on my way over. Balance is everything.”

“Alright, Mr Healthy. I gotta go,” Luke says while sliding in behind the desk and setting his bag beside his chair. “Love you, drive safe.”

“Have a good night, babe. Love you too.”

Luke smiles as he clicks out of the call and sets his phone down before tapping quickly at the keyboard to log in for the night. Behind him he hears someone clear their throat. “You know at some point you’re going to have to introduce us to this sweet man of yours. You know everyone would just be complete heart eyes like yourself if you brought him in one night.”

Luke rolls his eyes while turning to face Alex, the surgical resident that’s been on rotation in their department for awhile. “Fine, I’ll bring my guy in when you bring Jack by to hang out for the day.”

Alex laughs as he pulls out a couple files he must have been digging for out of the cabinet against the wall. “Oh, please, Jack absolutely does not have the kind of sense of humor that I can bring into a pediatrics department. Or at least not while I’m still working here.” He opens another cabinet and shifts the papers around in his arms to accommodate the growing pile he’s creating. “We can just double date sometime.”

Luke smiles and tries to hide his disappointment at the fact that there’s a zero chance of that ever being a possibility. “That would be fun.”

“Have a good shift, Luke,” Alex calls as he wanders back down the hall. “Tell all my favorites that Doctor Alex is bringing cookies tomorrow!”

“Will do!”

Luke wanders back into the break room then to make the first pot of coffee for the night and feels his phone buzz in his pocket while he rests his hip against the counter while waiting for the pot to fill with water. It’s a selfie of Ashton, his hair pulled back into a small bun, holding various bags of produce with a smiling Calum in the background. 

He remembers Alex’s heart eyes comment then and feels a blush across his cheeks as he replies with a string of fruit emojis and the story of the conversation he’s just had.  

*

Luke is used to arriving home after work to a sleeping Ashton against his pillow. Usually he’s wearing one of his t-shirts and it makes him feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy and just generally lucky and in love. So he’s surprised when he gets home at 8am to find Ashton sitting in the middle of the couch, his legs folded up beneath him with a pair of knitting needles in his hands and what appears to be a long scarf stretching out onto the floor. 

“Hey, love, what are you up to?” Luke greets as he walks into the living room after dropping his bag onto its hook. Luke lets his hands drop onto Ashton’s shoulders as he moves to stand behind him, his thumbs rubbing circles at the tension pretty much always present between his shoulders. 

“Well, a while back when I started having that crisis about what hobby to pick up for the winter months my mom suggested I try knitting,” he starts, his voice slow and a little distant as he obviously lets most of his concentration stick to the task at hand. “And she sent me some beginner’s materials and it turns out I don’t suck at knitting and it’s also quite fun. So I ordered a bunch more and now everyone is getting hats and scarves for the holidays.”

“That’s so lovely, Ash.” Luke smiles. Because genuinely, it really is. The living room at the house was filled with various house plants that Ashton had taken a liking to when Luke walked him around the gardening store on Facetime in October but he had been a little worried about Ashton having something a bit busier to occupy his time with. “So all the boxes were like, yarn and stuff?”

“Exactly. Though that’s all in the car now since I didn’t want you accidentally catching a sneak peek at the materials for your present. I want it to be a surprise.”

Luke jumps over the back of the couch to sit beside him. He wraps his arms around Ashton’s middle, out of the way of where his hands work, and presses a kiss to his temple. “I can’t wait to see it. Or wear it. Both, I guess.”

Ashton takes a second to finish his row and then sets his work aside. He turns to let his legs fall across Luke’s lap and drapes his arms across his shoulders. “I’m glad. I’m excited to make you something.”

As he takes in his boyfriend’s tired eyes and smile (it’s obvious this new activity might have gotten him up a bit earlier than usual), Luke can’t help but lean in to press their lips together for a moment. He feels Ashton relax more into his arms and the lucky and in love feeling starts flooding his mind again. Luke pulls back but lets his forehead stay pressed against Ashton’s as they giggle at each other for a moment.

“French toast time?” Ashton questions once they pause in their laughter. 

“Please.”

The feeling continues to float around in his brain as he watches Ashton cut up fruit while he flips the bread on the griddle. Though really, he thinks, that feeling has probably been taking up most of his mind since the day they basically wandered into each other’s lives.

* 

“Would you hate me if I give you your Christmas present early?”

Luke looks up from his spot in front of the fire to find where Ashton stands in the doorway of the living room, his hands holding something wrapped in bright red tissue paper. He checks his page number and makes a mental note before closing his novel and setting it aside. “Of course not, I love presents. Though the last part of yours is still in the mail so if you wanted this to be an exchange, we’ll need to wait.”

Ashton beams, his eyes bright and happy. “No, no. I’m okay to wait for mine but yours is done and I want you to have it right now.”

Luke smiles and he pauses to take a sip from his first coffee of the morning. “Well, I would love to have it then.”

Ashton wanders across the room and takes a spot on the floor beside him and places the package between the two of them. Luke tugs at the ribbon wrapped around the paper and gently rips at the tape to pull it open. As he realizes what’s inside, his lips fall open just a bit, from shock or joy or both he’s not really sure. “Ashton, I-”

“I knitted you a jumper,” he says, his voice quick while his fingers nervously play with the edge of his sweatshirt. “And it was a little daunting and probably a little bit beyond my skill level with this but you like jumpers and I wanted to make you a jumper.”

The smile on Luke’s lips continues to pull across his face as he lifts up the soft, baby blue jumper that Ashton made with his own two hands and Luke specifically in mind. His heart feels so full, like it’s going to burst out from his chest and across the room. “Love, this might be the kindest thing anyone has ever given me. I’m like, never going to take this off.”

He watches Ashton relax some then, his smile shifting from eager into something more fond. “Well, you may want to wash it every once in a while but I really appreciate the enthusiasm. Also try it on now. I want to make sure it fits.”

Luke hands off his mug to make sure he doesn’t knock it over and Ashton takes a sip while Luke unfolds the soft garment and pulls his arms through the sleeves. It fits like a dream, which especially surprises him since Ashton never asked to take his measurements. Though he supposes he could have just been taking a tape measure to another one of his jumpers at some point in the last month. 

Luke sits up then and scoots closer to Ashton until he can pull himself halfway into his lap and wrap his arms around his neck. “Thank you, Ash. You’re perfect. I love you so much.”

Ashton pulls him closer toward his chest and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I love you too. Glad I can keep you cozy with my crafting.”

Luke laughs gently before he straightens up, moving to stand. “Alright, now it’s my turn to show you my love and appreciation in the best way I know how.”

Ashton pulls a face that’s a mix of confusion but also something suggestive, and Luke only rolls his eyes dramatically. “I’m gonna make the second pot of coffee.” He winks down at where Ashton still sits on the floor as they both start laughing.

Ashton reaches a hand up for help off the floor. “Man of my dreams, you are.”

And as they wander into the kitchen, Ashton hopping up onto the counter to keep his bare feet off the tile floor, Luke can’t help but agree.

*

[spartanxhunterx]

Bug And Shell(d): The Bubbler.

Normally Nino was excited for birthdays, between him, Kim and Marinette they were often a blast or at least memorable.

Today, however, was Adrien's birthday and Nino was a little afraid on how to proceed, just slightly really.

He'd only known Adrien for all of a few weeks and he felt like he didn't know much about his new bro-friend.

So he had decided to pick out a gift based on a little something that he did know about him. That was wrapped up in the box.

For now though, Nino's attention was drawn to the other item that had arrived with it. All very last minute but he didn't care. Opening the packaging he pulled out his brand new wireless headphones, gone was the plain orange and black colour scheme.

His new ones were custom designed with the outside of each ear piece looking like Carapace's shield, the inside was a dark green much like the darker shade on his costume and the head band came with a soft plush cushion of the same colour.

Overall, not bad and he could always claim it was his way in supporting the heroes, even if he looked a little biased towards his own alter-ego.

As long as their wasn't any harm, then there would be no foul.

 "I'm not as caught up with technology as I probably should be." Wayzz stated as he flew around the headphones, inspecting them. "But I'd imagine these won't last forever, power wise at least."

 " No they won't, " Nino picked up the headphones before pointing to a small cover, opening it to reveal the ports for wires. "That's why these are here, so I can re-charge it and not worry about power."

 he placed them on his neck, feeling a little tension fall out of him at feeling the weight on his neck. He'd gotten slightly stir crazy without his last pair, which he had broken helping that old gentleman, he had almost been tempted to break out the old-old headphones that he kept locked away.

 "That's better, come on dude." He opened up his jacket and waited for Wayzz to fly into the inner pocket. Picking up the wrapped present he tucked it under his arm before he left his room, messing up Chris' hair as he walked past him he called his goodbye as he shut the door.

-

 "Here you go dude." Nino placed the slightly haphazardly wrapped present in front of Adrien before he swung around the table to sit in his seat. "Happy birthday dude."

 " Oh, " seeing that look of genuine surprise on Adrien's face made this worth it, seeing the real excitement as his hands rested on top of the box before he turned to him. "Thanks Nino, you didn't have to do this you know."

 " I know. " Nino leaned back slightly. "I wanted to, you're my buddy after all."

 He leaned forwards, arm leaning against table. "Besides what friend would I be if I didn't celebrate my buddies birthday?" Holding up a hand to cut off Adrien's protesting he pointed to the gift. " Now are you going to sit there all day? Or open your present? We gotta get it done before miss Bustier gets in here. "

Nino watched as Adrien gave in, fingers carefully peeling back the paper as he tried so, so hard to not tear the paper.

Nino was patient though and let Adrien open it in his own time. By the time he was done the standard red paper was half torn off, half preserved and left all over their desk. Not that he minded though.

He saw Adrien peer into the clear plastic, seeing the Ladybug themed wireless headphones that were the same model as his.

It felt a little cheap or unoriginal but when the headphones came with a '50% for a second pair' deal he couldn't not capitalise on that. Besides, now he could also make the argument that they symbolized their friendship as they both had a single set of the pair.

 "100% accurate, Ladybug themed headphones dude. How's that for a B-Day present?"

 "Its... Wow, thanks Nino, I don't know what to say."

Slinging his arm over his shoulder he pulled Adrien into a side hug. "Its cool dude, Don't need to say anything," He smiled at him, getting one in return. "Say, why don't I throw you a party?"

That made Adrien's face drop slightly and Nino's own smile dropped as well.

"I don't know Nino... My father... I don't think he'd allow it."

Nino was about to respond, however, Both Marinette and Miss Bustier had entered the room. Marinette handed a wrapped gift to Adrien as she past him. "Happy birthday Adrien."

" Thanks Marinette. "

Before Bustier could get on their cases about the mess Nino scooped up the torn paper before depositing that into the trash bin as Adrien slipped the gifts into his bag.

 "Alright class, hope you've settled down now. Cause its time we get started."

-

 " Come on man, it's your B-day, Insists. " putting away his tube of bubble mix Nino wrapped his arm around Adrien's shoulder, leaning himself closer to him. "You know what? I'm gonna have a conversation with your pops."

 "Don't waste your time, he's not going to change his mind." Nino shook his head. His best bud wasn't going to go without a birthday party, not if he could help it.

 "Adrien, dude, I promise you, I will get your father to let you have a birthday party. I promise."

 Adrien turned to him, about to respond but was interrupted by Chloé, who had come running from behind them and latched onto him in a sort of awkward hug.

"Adrikins! Happy birthday!" She pulled back and Nino caught onto the genuine smile she seemed to give him. Perhaps Nino was imagining things but he was sure Chloé had been smiling more ever since Adrien had started going to school. It was subtle, but he could see it.

Perhaps her friendship with Adrien meant more to her then people realised.

 "Anyway. I ordered something special for you for your birthday, it should be there by this afternoon... Provided the moving guys aren't lazy or anything."

 " Thanks Chloé, I'm sure I'll enjoy it. " A cars horn went off several times and the trio turned towards Adrien's limo as it pulled up. "Anyway, I gotta go, Photo shoot."

Nino's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "On your birthday? Not cool dude."

The two of them watched as he walked to the car and Nino adjusted his hat so it wasn't loose. "Looks like I've got some business to take care of with Adrien's old man."

"You. Speak with Gabriel? Don't make me laugh Lahiffe, Gabriel would never waste his time with you."

He shrugged at the blonde girl, a small smile etching onto his face. "So? I thought you of all people would have been thrilled that someone was trying to give Adrien a B-Day party. "

 "I'm just saying it how it is." Chloé spoke as she examined her nails. "Uncle Gabe is very stubborn and set in his ways. So don't come crying to me when you can't do anything."

 "I'll keep that in mind... Cosplay."

 " Hey! "

-

Standing in front of Adrien's house made Nino feel slightly inadequate and nervous. Here he was, outside his buddy's house that looked big enough to house his family, cousins and other distant relatives and still have empty space inside.

Given that it was only Adrien, his dad and several staff, he could understand why Adrien was so keen on getting out of the house. It must have been terribly quiet.

Stil, he resolved his nerves and pressed the button on the intercom as Wayzz nestled into the crook between the headphones and the back of his neck for his comfort, yet out of the way of prying eyes.

He was not, however, expecting to have a large camera come out of the wall and nearly smack him in the face.

"Yes? How may I help you? "

Must've been some fancy camera.

 "Uhh... I'm Nino..." He spoke slowly, confusion clear in his voice. "I'm a friend of Adrien's and I was hoping to speak with his father regarding his birthday."

With each passing moment that was silent Nino grew more uncomfortable.

"Please wait, I'll be out there to guide you in a moment. "

within a minute the gates pulled back open and he could see someone walking towards him, he stepped several steps forwards until the two of them met.

"Come with me. Mr. Agreste will see you but only for a moment, he is a busy man."

Ah, this must have been his assistant. Nathalie, if he remembered correctly from when Adrien would take about his home.

The two of them stepped into the front door and Nino's hands shot into his jackets pockets and his hand fiddled with the bottle of bubble mix that was in there. He could feel Wayzz wiggling his way down his top and had to tense to not squirm in front of Nathalie.

Hqer head turned to him with one eyebrow raised but she didn't say anything.

"Nervous. Just a little."

She nodded before peering at her tablet before looking back up at him.

" Mr. Agreste will be here in a moment. "

Great... Just Great. He brought out his tube of bubble mix before unscrewing the cap, his hands fiddled with it as he waited, not spilling a drop.

Even though he knew they could most certainly afford to have to pay someone to clean it up.

Was it him or did the house feel cold?

"Adrien's not home yet." The sharp voice of the man of the house brought his attention to the top of the stairs, his hands freezing in place as he was dragged out of his thoughts.

He suppressed a shiver as he looked Mr. Agreste in the eye, he could feel no warmth coming from those eyes, not like what he saw when he looked in his mother's eyes.

Closing the cap of the tube he swallowed down his fear. "No I know du-Sir. I came to speak with you, actually."

" Me? " There was a shift in his posture that Nino couldn't place and the raise of an eyebrow that made him worry.

"Yes, I came to ask about giving Adrien a party du-Sir, it's his first birthday with some real friends and I think he really deserves to hav-"

" No. " Nino blinked at his cold voice, causing him to stop mid-sentence. "Adrien is my son, and I say what is best for him."

Somehow his eyes grew colder and Nino had to fight to not cringe away. None of the those present in the room noticed as Adrien slipped in behind them.

"Du-Sir. Adrien has been working really hard lately." Slowly Nino extending his fingers as he started his list. "Piano, Photo shoots, fencing, Chinese. I think it's only fair that he gets one day to enjoy himself. "

"Nino?" He turned to his side seeing Adrien next him. " You're here? "

Wrapping his arm around Adrien's shoulders he pulled him closer before before bumping his fist to his shoulder. "Of course, you're my buddy."

" You know what young man? " Looking back up the stairs Nino grew hopeful, maybe he had gotten through to him. "I've just decided that you're a bad influence on my son." Both boys eyes widened at that, Nino's hands tightening around his bubble tube. "In fact, you are no longer welcome in my house ever again, leave."

" Father. " Adrien called out, pulling away from Nino but Gabriel didn't listen as he turned and walked to his study, adjusting his tie as he went.

Nathalie stepped in front of Nino before he could try to follow. "Goodbye."

Eyes darting between between her and Adrien, he took a deep breath in before turning and walking out.

Adrien caught up to him after he was a few steps out and stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder. "Nino, I'm sorry, my father is stubborn... Thanks for trying though. "

"Its not fair Adrien..." Nino struggled to form his words as he gestured to Adrien, as if he could convey his thoughts that way. "Its totally not cool dude. "

Pulling his strap up his shoulder he turned and stalked away, he could feel Wayzz moving up his jacket again and he simply tapped where he was gently.

-

Plopping himself down on the park bench he pulled out his tube of bubble before taking the wand out and blowing a few bubbles out into the air.

"That dude it straight up not cool."

He switched forwards before resting his elbows on his knees. Trying to regulate his breathing and calm himself down, it wouldn't do to stay in a bad mood.

"But dad!" His eyes shot up, landing on the child who was trying, and failing, to break out of his father's grip.

"No Son, it's not playtime, you've got chores to do." He watched as the boy was taken out of the park before blowing a sharp breath out of his nose.

"Why have parents got to ruin everything man?"

Feeling Wayzz moving around again he opened his jacket enough to let him pop his head out. He didn't want to make him feel like he was trapped, not in the way Adrien was.

"You agree with me right little dude?" He turned his head away as he shook it. " I mean, we're kids, we should be allowed to have fun and be ourselves. "

"While I agree, I must say kids need adults, to guide them through life." Nino didn't stop him from floating out of his jacket, just a little in front of him as he started to look around. "But please calm down, being angry won't solve anything."

"Maybe not but I'm just so... Ugh, " he kicked his leg out at the grass, watching as it bounced back into place with ease.

"Please. Master, copy me. Deep breaths, in and out, copy me."

Nino turned to him, missing the pleading expression Wayzz was giving him before he groaned and rubbed his hand down his face. "You don't need to call me that dude, it's not necessary."

Today had been going so great until now and he couldn't help but feel like it was his fault.

He jerked slightly as Wayzz thumped against his temple. " Nino. Akuma. " The words spoken in his ear caused his head to jerk up, eyes widening as they landed on the black butterfly that was making a direct path to him.

"Woah!" He threw himself off the bench, before backing away from the butterfly without letting it out of his sights.

Why was an Akuma after him? He had a miraculous. Didn't they grant him immunity to being akumatised?

He grunted as his foot hit a upsticking root of a tree and he fell flat on his butt. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to find some way out of this situation, his arms pushed against the ground as he tried to back away.

"Think happy thoughts!" Wayzz fluttered around him, trying to be both encouraging and hidden. "It can't get you if you're happy."

Happy thoughts? What was his most recent happy thought? Seeing Adrien happy this morning? Maybe Marinette's smile? that made him happy.

He could tell it wasn't working as the Akuma grew closer, his eyes darted to the tube in his hand and he threw it at the butterfly without thinking. As it made contact it sunk into it, leaving it to go a horrid grey colour.

"Ohh... That was close dude. Sorry about that." He kept his eye on it as he fell back to lay down on his back, just in case it came out on his own.

Wayzz landed on his shoulder before patting his check. " it's my fault, I should have warned you sooner, you're not immune to the Akuma's, I should have told you. "

Rubbing his head, Nino gave a slight huff. "Not your fault, I shouldn't have assumed." He sat up pulled Wayzz into the crook of his neck and gave him a one handed hug. "What are we gonna do about that?"

"We need to get Ladybug, then we release the Akuma and she can purify it. Don't touch it. "

 He nodded as he began to stand. Eyes looking around to find the closest place to transform. He didn't want to leave the Akuma unattended for long.

 "No!" His attention was drawn to the centre of the park, the boy from earlier was back and it looked like he was out for round two.

He watched as the boy ducked and weaved around people, doing his best to avoid his father. It looked like he really intended to stay at the park for as long as he wanted.

Which, now that he was looking at it more calmly, didn't look as good as it did before. He Could just imagine himself and Chris in that situation... It wasn't good.

Feeling Wayzz tugging at his clothes he was about to turn away before he saw the kid catch sight of the tube of Bubble mix. His eyes widened as he saw the kid make a break for it, no doubt thinking it was nothing more then bubbles.

"No, Kid! Don't! " Despite trying to run to it first, he had thrown it a good distance and had neglected to move closer in case the Akuma sprung out of it.

He, unfortunately, wasn't fast enough as the kid had picked it up before he could stop him. Hawkmoths symbol appeared over his eyes and Nino could see the discoloration that occurred around his eyes.

 "Kid!" he Stopped before him, hands hesitating to reach for the akumatised object, in case it somehow affect him too. " Don't listen to him kid, he won't help you. "

The boys father stopped not that far from him, seemingly hesitating to come closer. Nino grew hopeful when the boys eyes looked towards him and not spaced out, maybe he did get through to him.

"Yes... Hawkmoth." Oh Speakers, Hats and tables that was not good.

 The dark bubbles clouded around him and Nino scrambled to get a few feet back. As the bubbles peeled away he caught sight of the Akuma's form. And... ugh, it was going to make him sick just looking at it.

The boy now looked like a cartoon character, his top half was a bright red colour while his arms where a solid black, small 'bubbles' were sat around his joints and his legs were the same. He looked entirely like he was made out of plastic.

"Jason?" His father seemed to snap out of his stupor, stepping closer to his son. Nino was torn between running off to transform and staying to try to convince him to hand him the Akuma.

The akuma, Jason, turned his head towards the man with a frown on his face. "My name's not Jason." Quick as anything the boy raised his wrist and Nino saw what looked like a water gun strapped to his wrist , a small tube lead back to a tube looked backpack on his back. "Its bubble boy!"

In an instant a large bubble shot out and captured the man within it, turning it from its original purple to a sharp green, as the man floated up Nino decided that was his moment to finally get away.

-

The sound of an explosion caused Marinette to stumble off her chair with a scream, her dinner going flying, her mother jumped from the noise too.

scrambling to the window she could see both Carapace and an Akuma fighting it out.

"I... ugh, I'm going to my room! To hide!" Marinette scrambled up to her room, not giving her mother a second glance. Said woman stared after her daughter in confusion before closing the shutters on the window, just to be safe.

-

Carapace dodged to the side as another burst of bubbles shot past him, the park had long since vacated she to the Akuma and now it was just him and said Akuma.

"Listen to me kid! This isn't the way. This isn't solving anything, just causing more problems."

The akuma screamed at him, much in the same was all kids did when they were angry before pointing his bubble gum at him. "It's bubble boy! And I say it's playtime, Forever! "

Bubble boy fired off three massive bubbles towards him, two red and one purple. He knew he could deflect the red ones but he also couldn't touch the purple one without getting caught in it. He also would have time to deflect the red ones of he avoided the purple one.

He was about to cast Shell-ter when he felt something wrap around his torso. He was quickly yanked up and over the Akuma, at the peak of his impromptu swing he caught ladybugs eyes from where she was flying before he landed to a skidding halt well behind the Akuma.

"Just as a serious question. Is this going to become a regular thing with you? "

Fluttering down next to him, Ladybug let her yo-yo hang limply. "You're my partner, of course I'm going to protect you."

 "Yeah, but that's my job." He muttered quietly before taking his shield off his back and holding it in front of him. " Be careful of his bubbles, red explodes, purple captures you and they're unbreakable. He's already sent someone high up with one. Akuma's either in the bubble gun or in the backpack. "

 "Right," She nodded, eyes squinting at the Akuma . "Then let's get this done before I'm missed."

 Spinning her Yo-Yo into the air she called out- "Lucky Charm!" - The ladybugs swarmed around each other into the air and came together to form A- "Skipping rope? How's this going to help?"

 "He did say that he wanted playtime to last forever."

Ladybug nodded as she looked around, her nose scrunched up in thought. " Right I got it, " She tossed one end of the rope to him, which he caught. "You ever tie yourself up?"

Catching her meaning he nodded before he brought up his shield, the rope handle in his other hand. "Right, ready?" Receiving a nod he ran forwards, Ladybug floating just behind him.

 "You won't stop me!" Bubble Boy raised his hand at them, a large red bubble forming at the end of the bubble gun. "It will be Playtime!" He launched the Bubble and it shot towards them with speed.

 "Shell-ter! " A small semi-circular shield formed around his shield, protecting their front halves and allowed them to keep moving without removing it.

The bubble hit dead on, causing it to explode against it, the force caused his arm to real back. Instead of fighting against it he let himself be spun, throwing the shield once he was fully turned around again.

it flew through the air until it sailed right past the kids head, causing him to flinch in surprise.

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction Carapace slid to the boys left while Ladybug flew past his right, as soon as both of them passed by his shoulders they turned to loop behind him.

Carapace ended up on his right, while Ladybug was on this left, the skipping rope was looped around his chest and arms, loose.

 "Now!" Both of them pulled, tightening the rope just enough to pin his arms down. Slowly Carapace wrapped his side of the rope around his arm as he moved closer.

Grabbing the Akumatised object he carefully removed it from the boy before violently tossing it towards his returning shield, where it shattered on impact and released the butterfly within. Ladybug released her end of the rope to capture it and purify it.

Carapace relaxed slightly as the boy when more limp in his arms as his Akuma form was stripped away from him. He carefully pulled the skipping rope away before throwing it to Ladybug And pointing upwards. The boys father was still up there after all.

"Miraculous Ladybug!"

 There wasn't nearly as many magical Ladybugs as before, given the lack of damage, but Nino knew he would never tire of seeing them swarm the area.

 "Jason!" And there was the boys father, Nino released the boy and both of them collided into each other in a hug. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. What had he been thinking when he was groaning about the adults earlier?

The ringing of their miraculous brought him out of his trance and he turned to Ladybug as she began to hover slightly. "Not to charm and dash but I've gotta go."

" Bug wait! " He reached out and grabbed her wrost, stopping her from flying away for just a moment. "We need to talk."

Oblivious to Ladybugs face growing darker he looked to the father son duo as she began to talk. "Now's not a good time Cara, our timers."

 " I know," as if to punctuate her point their miraculous beeped again. "Eiffle tower, Tonight, ten thirty, yeah?"

Carapace was so caught up in organizing what he was going to say that he missed Ladybugs dreamy sigh. " Yeah... ok... " Snapping out of it Ladybug shook her head. "I mean, yeah sure, Ten thirty, not a second late."

 Nodding Nino let her go, watching as she fluttered away, chuckling as she looped in the air. Flashing the duo a peace sign he made his own quick exit.

-

Adrien's birthday might have been a bust but he had learned several important things today and Ladybug needed to know about them.

Which is why he found himself waiting on the top of the Eiffel tower, far above where anyone else could even reach. He didn't mind the height, despite how it was a little difficult to actually get up there for him but they needed the privacy.

Especially since what he was going to talk about was not something he wanted any civilian to hear. Lest he cause a little bit of a panic.

He was a little nervous about bringing it up to Ladybug, given that the Akuma was originally after him and he couldn't quite say that without worrying Ladybug and/or revealing who he was. Both of those things were bad in their own right.

The heavy thump of feet hitting metal caused him to spin around, meeting Ladybugs eyes with a nod. "Sorry I'm a little late, didn't want to get caught sneaking out."

Nino chuckled as he shook his head. " Oh, I know that feeling. The paranoia that you're being watched, your heart racing like it's beating its last. I know it well. "

"Sneak out a lot then?" Nino couldn't quite place the look that was in her eyes but he got the impression that she was... Impressed? Or maybe evaluating something about him.

"Not a lot, but sometimes I just needed some air and a walk around, you know?"

She shrugged, her wings fluttering behind her, despite being on the ground. "I guess, sometimes I need new stimuli to be able to work on some of my projects. "

He nodded and the two fell into a sort of awkward silence, he offered with his hands, finger brushing over his miraculous as Ladybug swayed side to side slightly.

"So?..."

 "I learned something today, a few things actually." Slowly Nino moved to the centre beam that stuck up the middle, before hitting his back against it and skidding down till he was sat down.

"We're not immune to the Akuma's bug. " Unknown to him, his words had ripped Ladybug out of her hypothetical daydream of Carapace confessing to her atop the tower.

Thoughts on having a hamster on hold she moved closer before kneeling down in front of him. "What do you mean? "

"Earlier, with the akuma," when he got a nod from her he continued. "The boy, he wasn't the original target for the Akuma." Seeing Ladybug about to open her mouth he held up his hand to signal that he wished to finish .

"There was this other boy, had these sick headphones styled after me, he was upset..." He completely missed the way how Ladybugs eyes widened in surprise, he had not way of knowing that she knew his civilian self. "Or mad, I dunno. "

"Point is, it went for him and he threw... Whatever the item was and it absorbed the Akuma but didn't turn him." He took a breath in as he pulled one of his knees closer. " The boy picked it up, became the Akuma. "

"Oh..." Ladybugs eyes darted around for a moment before she moved and sat next to him, their shoulders touching. "So we can trap Akuma's?"

" As long as no-one touches the item and we somehow get you there to purify it quickly. "

"Ok?..." Ladybug twisted her hand in a Thoughtful manner. " So, how does all that connect to us not being immune? "

"I made an offhand comment to Wayzz, about being glad we were immune. He said we weren't, that Akuma can come for us and we need to be careful."

He shivered as he remembered how close that Akuma had come to him, never again. Noticing the far off look in ladybugs eyes he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and bumped their shoulders together.

His missed as her face began to go the same shade as her suit, hands shaking slightly from the surprise contact. "Don't worry about it too much Bug. Just ask your Kwami to help you find your happy place, that should do it."

 " Yeah... ok... "

Despite it all, Marinette couldn't stop herself from looking at Carapace in slight awe. She leaned into his hold, glad to be able to take advantage of this moment, even if it wouldn't last.

[inyournightmares97]

Ultimatum (Part 3)

Park Jinyoung is a master negotiator. He’s used to preying on people’s weaknesses and manipulating them to get his way. So he can’t understand you; a lawyer who sees the world in black and white, as either good or bad. Conflict is inevitable.

But if the two of you can just set aside your differences, perhaps you can perform miracles together.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: Angst, office!au, enemies to lovers!au. Some language.

Part 1: In Which You Win

Part 2: In Which He Wins

Part 3: In Which the Common Enemy Appears 

Part 4: In Which You Work Together

Part 5: In Which Nobody Wins (coming soon)

Part 6: In Which Everybody Wins (coming soon)

"Sorry I'm late," you apologized, hurrying towards the desk where your co-workers were sitting. They both looked grim. "I got a call from my mother’s care home so I had to drop by to visit before work. Have you been waiting long?"

Yugyeom bit his lip. "It's… it's not that."

"Huh?"

"There’s an email from HR. I think you got it too. You should take a look, it's not good news."

Suddenly recognizing how ominous the atmosphere was, you started up your laptop. There was an email from HR with the subject heading Transfers to New Busan Office. Heartbeat thudding, you clicked on the email. It was a polite, friendly note to inform everyone that the entire Legal, Sales and Marketing departments would be shifting to the new Busan office, and that individual transfer orders would be sent across soon. 

"What the fuck?" you demanded. 

"It's not true, is it? Are they really going to make us move to Busan?" Youngjae asked. He tapped his fingers on the table nervously. "My wife is giving birth in 2 months, I don't want to move a heavily pregnant woman across the country. We were counting on my mother-in-law's help with the baby. But there's no way she'll move to Busan."

Yugyeom nodded miserably. "I don't want to go there either. I just bought a flat here last month. I took out a mortgage!"

You shook your head in disbelief. "This can't be right. I thought they were hiring new folk for the Busan office. I saw the recruitment files myself! Why do they want to send half the existing departments there? I'm going to have a word with HR-"

"There's no use," Yugyeom cut you off. "I already asked some people from HR. They said there's nothing they can do, because the orders came directly from the CEO."

You frowned. "That bastard."

"Will you talk to him?"

"Of course I'll talk to him," you replied. You slammed your laptop shut and stood up. "I'll go talk to him right now."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Sorry, the CEO is speaking to someone right now," the secretary told you patiently. 

"Yes, but it's urgent-"

"Ma'am, it doesn't matter how urgent it is, I can't let you barge into his office while he's already talking to someone! Please understand the situation and be patient. I'm sure Mr. Park will be out in a few minutes."

You groaned audibly. "He's talking to Jinyoung?"

"Yes."

Fantastic. That slimy little creature was probably making everything worse. You suddenly remembered that the email had also mentioned the Sales department shifting to Busan. It struck you that Jinyoung was in there right now, sucking up to the CEO and being the selfish, arrogant bastard he had always been. 

Park Jinyoung never did anything for anyone else's benefit. 

He could screw up the company's deals all he wanted, but there was no way you were going to let him screw up your life. 

"Good morning," you greeted the CEO politely as you barged into his office. The secretary yelled after you, scandalized, but you ignored her. "I'm here to talk about the email I received about some departments shifting to Busan?"

Jinyoung was seated in front of the CEO's desk. His dark eyes twinkled as he turned in his chair to face you. 

"We were just discussing that," he remarked. 

"Excellent, then you won't mind if I join," you cut in. You sat down beside Jinyoung and turned to face the CEO. The young negotiator’s gaze was fixed on you but you refused to look at him. Jinyoung’s despicable face would only make you lose your temper. 

"This is a little surprising," the CEO commented with a raised eyebrow. "But I assume you have something to say?"

"I do, actually," you replied. There was no smile on your face. "I thought I should save you some time. Our employment contracts don't contain mobility clauses. We never consented to the possibility of being asked to shift to a different city for work. I could explain the law to you in depth, but in short the conclusion remains the same. The company cannot legally force any of us to go to Busan."

The CEO blinked. "You're right. I can't force any of you to move."

"So then you agree that-"

"You always have the option of leaving the company.”

You flinched. You hadn’t imagined that the CEO would say something like that to your face but he was looking you right in the eyes and telling you that he would fire you for refusing to move. You didn’t know how to respond. 

“But-you can’t fire us without justified reason-”

“I’m not firing you. I’m offering you a job in Busan. If you don’t want to take it then you can always go seek employment elsewhere,” he replied calmly.

“That amounts to constructive dismissal, it’s illegal!” you replied hotly. You had hoped to keep your temper under control but the CEO was being absurd. How could he flip a switch overnight and decide that everybody had to either go to Busan or quit? “You realize that I could easily challenge a dismissal like that in a court of law?”

The CEO raised an eyebrow. “Again, it’s not a dismissal. I’m offering you employment in Busan.”

“How exactly do you plan to handle the fallout of entire departments quitting-”

“I don’t think that’s your concern. If you don’t want to go to Busan, then you’re free to hand in your resignation. We can even negotiate a severance package,” the CEO replied shortly. He placed his hands on his desk and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a Board meeting to attend. If you want to discuss this further you’ll have to make an appointment with my secretary.”

You watched in silent shock when the CEO stood up and walked out of his office. Your heart sank. This was more serious than you had thought. The CEO wasn’t the sort of person to make empty threats. What were you going to do? 

Park Jinyoung cleared his throat. 

“Well, good job fucking that up,” he commented. 

Your head whipped around to face him. “Excuse me?”

“Do you always barge headfirst into situations without even thinking about it? What made you think it was a good idea to talk to the CEO like that?” Jinyoung demanded. You could hear the irritation in his tone. “You ruined the entire mood by making him hostile. You should have left it to me. I was handling it.”

“Handling it? You?” you demanded. 

“Yes. At least I’m not idiot enough to barge in and pick a fight with the man who employs me,” Jinyoung retorted. He folded his arms across his chest while his dark eyes scanned you with displeasure. “Have you ever heard of power dynamics? Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Even a dog knows that.” 

“I’m not a dog,” you snapped. 

“That’s not what-”

“What the CEO is doing isn’t legal. If you’re saying I should smile and fawn and flatter a man that is trying to fuck with my employment contract illegally, then I’m sorry. I’m not in the habit of having negotiations with people who can’t respect the law. That’s not power dynamics. That’s sycophancy.”

Jinyoung sighed. “God, you’re impossible. Don’t you have any understanding of how the world works? How can you see everything in black and white?”

“Go to hell, Park.”

“Nope. You don’t get to be mad at me. I was trying to convince the CEO not to issue transfer orders but you barged in and fucked it up by making him mad. That’s on you. So don’t pull the moral superiority card on me today. That won’t work. I was doing my part.”

You blinked at him. “I don’t trust you.”

Jinyoung sighed. “Understandable. But-”

“I think you’re a selfish piece of shit that has no concern for anyone around him. You can suck the CEOs dick all you want, Jinyoung. Don’t expect me to believe you’re doing it for us,” you snapped.

Jinyoung stared at you in surprise. He hadn’t expected to hear you using such crude language, but your flushed face and trembling hands made it clear that you weren’t thinking straight. You were distressed and somehow, Jinyoung didn’t want to aggravate you further. He took a deep breath and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. 

“Fine,” he surrendered calmly. “You use your methods and I’ll use mine.”

“Fine.”

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“The CEO really said that? He said we could either go to Busan or quit?”

You nodded. You were too angry to speak. The more you thought about the encounter, the more furious it made you. You had been working at this company for 3 years. You had given so much of your time, effort and dedication to doing your job perfectly and this was the gratitude you received? Being asked to either shift halfway across the country or quit? 

“Yeah. He said it.”

“What are we going to do?” Yugyeom cried. 

“We’re going to show him he can’t violate our employment contracts like this. I won’t stand for it. I refuse to go to Busan and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” you ranted as you rummaged through your textbooks. You had some research to do. You were flipping through volumes on labobur laws frantically when Yugyeom spoke. 

“Is it… is it because of your mom?” he asked quietly. 

You hesitated. You didn’t speak about your personal life much at work, but perhaps Yugyeom had picked up a few things from random tidbits you dropped. 

“Uh, yeah. She’s at a medical facility for the elderly right now. I can’t leave her here and move to a different city. I also don’t think her health could withstand the move. If it comes down to it, then I’ll have to quit and look for a new job. Busan isn’t an option for me,” you mumbled. 

Yugyeom bit his lip. “But it won’t come down to it, right?”

“It will unless you pick up that book and get reading. Find me everything you can on constructive dismissal,” you ordered him sharply. “Where’s Youngjae?”

“He went to talk to Sales and Marketing to find out what’s going on.”

“Well, call him and tell him to hurry back. We have jobs to save.”

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“It seems like a mixed bag at this point,” Jackson observed as he sipped his coffee. The cafeteria was quiet, and the atmosphere of the office had been grim all day. Nobody wanted to talk. “I think half of Sales will quit to look for other jobs in the city. The rest will just suck it up and move to Busan. It’s going to be a messy situation either way.”

“But nobody wants to go,” Youngjae pointed out.

“Of course nobody wants to go.” Jackson pressed his fingers to his temples. “Hopefully Jinyoung will find some solution. He usually works something out.”

“Is he considering quitting too?” 

“Jinyoung? No way. He’s upset because a lot of his clients are here, and he would have to start from scratch to build contacts in Busan,” Jackson explained. “But he just received a promotion. He’s due to get an enormous bonus from the company at the end of the year because of the deal he secured. The guy has made amazing progress in this company. Jinyoung would be an idiot to quit. He needs this company as much as it needs him.”

“Then why are you trusting him to fight for you?”

“I know he doesn’t give Legal an easy time, but Jinyoung is an awesome guy to have on your side. He knows how to manipulate people and he knows the CEO well,” Jackson explained. “He’ll find a solution. I just hope he does it in time. Otherwise, the transfer orders will be sent out and people will scramble. This affects all of us so we need to stick together.”

“That’s what bothers me,” Youngjae admitted. 

“What?”

“How fragmented we are. The CEO knows that half of us will stay and half will leave. We don’t have any coordination amongst ourselves. He’s probably counting on us being a mess,” Youngjae pointed out. “We would have a better chance if we presented a united front.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Think about it. The Sales department has the most skilled negotiator this company has ever seen. Legal has a brilliant lawyer that has saved this company from going through huge lawsuits multiple times because she never gives up. Don’t you think these two people should pool their skills and work together?”

“You want them to join forces?” Jackson wondered. 

“Both departments want the same thing. We might be able to come up with a better solution if they at least talked about what to do,” Youngjae insisted. 

“That would work fine if they didn’t hate each other.”

“Don’t you think they’re reasonable adults who can put aside their personal differences for the benefit of themselves and their co-workers?” 

Jackson laughed. 

“No. But maybe we can talk them into it.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not a bad negotiator myself, you know.”

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"Youngjae wants us to come to Conference Room 9," Yugyeom told you. Your head was buried in a book on labour law judgements and you barely heard his voice. 

"Hmmm. 5 minutes."

"He says it's urgent."

"Huh?" you asked absent-mindedly. 

"Youngjae wants us to come to Conference Room 9, he has something to show us. He says it’s urgent. Are you coming?” Yugyeom repeated. The younger man was staring at you and something clicked in your brain as you finally paid attention to what his words. 

“Oh! Youngjae, right. Sorry. Did he find something useful?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go see.”

“He better not be wasting our time,” you muttered, as you closed the book and followed Yugyeom towards the conference rooms. There was no knowing when the CEO would send the transfer orders out. You wanted to be ready with a full report about how they were unsustainable in law before that. It required intensive research, and you had to juggle it with your normal work. 

“Is it this one?” Yugyeom wondered as he reached a conference room with a plaque that had the number 9 on it. He opened the door and gestured for you to enter first. Since when did Yugyeom have such manners? You walked in, but the moment your eyes adjusted to the dim light you froze. 

The entire Sales team was sitting here. 

The door closed behind you. 

“What is going on?” you demanded. Youngjae was standing in a corner and he gave you a sheepish smile that you did not return. Park Jinyoung was also present. Dressed in a classy light blue button down shirt, he leaned back in his swirly chair and gave you a bored look. 

Yugyeom nudged you towards the seat across from Jinyoung. 

“Sit down, we have something to say.”

You frowned. “About what?”

“About how we intend to fight the transfers to Busan. Jackson and Youngjae have an idea. They think that since it affects all of us equally, we should work together and make a joint representation to the CEO.”

You couldn’t believe this. They wanted to work with Sales? You couldn’t even start to list all the reasons why that was a terrible idea. You opened your mouth to protest but before you could, Jackson stood up and moved to the front of the conference room. You were pushed down into the chair by Yugyeom. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Allow me to begin my presentation,” Jackson announced grandly. 

The lights dimmed. The projector overhead flickered on, and displayed an old version of a world map, with the United Kingdom highlighted in red. 

Jackson cleared his throat. “Today, I’m going to be talking about this little country. But it wasn’t always a little country. It used to be the head of the British Empire. The largest Empire in history that lasted for over a century. This tiny little country took over at least one quarter of the world-”

You felt bewildered and furious. 

“What the fuck is going on?”

Jackson made a shushing gesture at you and your face turned red. You could hear Jinyoung chuckling. 

“But the British had a strategy. They didn’t take over these countries randomly. Their strategy was to divide and rule. Let me elaborate. They identified ethnic and religious differences between the people and divided them into smaller groups that were less powerful than the whole. Then, when the British tried to rule, the smaller groups would be too busy fighting amongst themselves to care about what the British were doing. Which is, basically stealing their land and resources and taking over the country.”

“I think we get the point,” Youngjae muttered. He had noticed the irritation on your face. “Can we wrap up now, Jackson?”

Jackson pouted. “But the best part is still- okay, fine. Basically, the only way to drive the colonial British out was for the different ethnic groups to unite and to combine their strength against their common enemy; the British Raj.”

“Right. So-” Jackson pressed a button and the screen on the projector changed. There was now a picture of the company’s organizational hierarchy. Over the CEO’s bubble had been pasted the words British Raj. “As you can see here, the analogy I’m trying to draw. The CEO is our British Raj. Sales are Legal are two different ethnic groups in the same country. The only way we can fight the British Raj is if we unite and join forces, not if we continue to fight each other. And there I end my presentation. Thank you.”

The lights flickered back on, Jackson took a pleased bow and then took a seat. 

Yugyeom looked at you. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you demanded. “I think you’re behaving like children and this is a colossal waste of time. Did you just give me a history lesson in order to teach me about teamwork? This is insane. Your jobs must be a joke to you. Unfortunately, I take my life and my work very seriously, so do me a favour and don’t invite me to your playtime sessions.”

Jackson blinked. “But-”

Jinyoung cut him off coolly. “I thought it was a very informative presentation, Jackson. 9 out of 10, although the map ideally should have highlighted all the British colonies and not just England.”

“Thanks, Jinyoung.”

You stared at them. “Unbelievable.”

Jinyoung turned in his chair to face you. His arms were folded across his chest coolly. “Let's get down to the point. Forget the British Raj. I think they've identified a problem that deserves to be addressed. That problem is, you and I keep getting in each other’s way.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s true, don’t deny it. I was in the middle of a negotiation with the CEO this morning. It was going fine until you barged in and argued with him. Calm down,” Jinyoung raised a hand to silence you as you opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I’m not trying to blame you. That’s not the point. The next time you make a representation, it’s likely that I’ll accidentally do something to mess it up. This is because we lack coordination even though we want the same thing.”

Yugyeom turned to you with big, hopeful eyes. “He’s right. Both of you doing your own thing could be disastrous. The CEO will just ignore us, because we’re a mess. But if we pool our resources together then we might be able to scare him. Can we set aside our personal feelings this once?”

You stared at them. Both Yugyeom and Youngjae were looking at you hopefully and you felt weak. You wanted to reassure them that you could save their jobs without the help of Sales, but you suddenly weren’t sure anymore. Park Jinyoung, whatever else he might be, was definitely smart.

That didn’t mean the plan would work, though. 

“Look. I’m an adult. I can set aside my personal feelings, but that’s not even the issue. Our methods are too different,” you pointed out to Jinyoung. “We’ll waste time fighting about what to do. You’ll want to negotiate nicely and persuade the CEO, while I’m prepared to show him the law and insist he follow it or face the consequences.”

Jinyoung bit his lip. “I get that. We have our differences.”

“Exactly. We’ll never agree on a strategy.”

Jinyoung suddenly looked up and his eyes gleamed. You could almost see the lightbulb ping on top of his head. 

“What if… what if our different strategies are our strategy?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were growing tired of the Sales department’s obsession with giving pointless presentations.

The lights had dimmed and the projector was back on again. This time, Park Jinyoung was standing in front of it. He had run out of the conference room suddenly after his declaration, shocking everyone. He was back in two minutes with his laptop and he hooked it up to the projector before turning to face the room with a smug smile. 

“Guess what? I have just found the one and only negotiation strategy that will work. It’s a classic, and it’s the only strategy that is based entirely on disagreement,” he explained eagerly. “I gave a seminar on this to the Sales team a couple months ago, remember?”

Jackson’s eyes widened. “Wait, do you mean-”

“Yup.” Jinyoung pressed a button and the presentation began. “The Good Cop, Bad Cop Strategy.”

You frowned and peeked at the laptop. The presentation contained 45 slides. Oh dear god. If Park Jinyoung tried to go through all of them right now then you were going to deck him in the face. You were short enough on time already. 

“How about we skip past all the analogies and the introductions and you just give us a brief summary of how this works?” you suggested through clenched teeth. You glanced at your watch. “You have my attention for… 3 minutes.”

“That’s enough,” Jinyoung promised confidently. He pressed a button to change the slide. “The Good Cop, Bad Cop strategy is simple. This strategy is rooted in the fact that the Good Cop and the Bad Cop never agree.”

“Hmm.”

“The role of the Bad Cop,” Jinyoung gestured towards you with a handsome smile and you glared at him, “is simple. Bad Cop takes an extreme stand. She threatens terrible consequences and refuses to negotiate. She basically sets the tone for a worst-case scenario. No matter what the other person says, Bad Cop refuses to show the slightest hint of mercy.”

You blinked. That sounded like you. 

“Now, we come to Good Cop,” Jinyoung gestured towards himself with a proud smile. “He’s the one who makes more reasonable demands. Good Cop is the nice guy. He pretends to be on the criminal’s side. Everything Good Cop says looks really nice and generous in contrast to what Bad Cop says. Usually criminals are so terrified by Bad Cop that they give in to whatever demands Good Cop has. But in reality, Good Cop and Bad Cop are working together. They both agree on what they want beforehand. But by splitting the roles and taking extreme stands, they can confuse the criminal.”

You took a deep breath. “So If I understand you correctly…”

“You will threaten to sue,” Jinyoung explained. His dark eyes shone with excitement. “Do what you do best. Gather all the material you can find about the company’s violations of our employment contracts, and threaten the CEO that you’re about to drown the company in a messy, ugly lawsuit.”

“That’s risky. We don’t have the resources to follow through on that. I don’t have enough money to sue the company and I’m sure none of you do either. It’ll be a bald-faced lie. The CEO might tell me to go file a lawsuit if I dare. I might have to return empty-handed.”

“You might, if I wasn’t there to diffuse the situation before he gets angry. I’ll offer the CEO a more attractive option. I’ll tell him that he doesn’t have to deal with the headache and the bad PR that will come out of a lawsuit. He can simply let us stay in this office. If the Busan transfer is an attempt at cost-cutting, like I think it is, then we’ll all voluntarily forgo our bonuses this year. We’ll find other ways to cut costs. What do you think?”

You took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Jinyoung grinned. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you admitted reluctantly. “I think this might just work. Let’s do this.”

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