#trying to avoid jet lag for my trip.. not sure if it will work

[swankpalanquin]

setting my alarm for 6 a.m. even though i'm on vacation cos i have to try to get on gmt by next week

[sluttywonu]

destiny 𝜗𝜚

pairing: nana tour idol!woozi x f!reader

theme: smut MDNI

synopsis: not thrilled to be on this trip in the first place, his mood changes running into you again.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: below the cut

-

-

-

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

warnings: pwp, alcohol mentioned (wine), p in v, unprotected sex (pls don’t), oral (f rec), big tease woozi, love bite (just one), woozi muscles mentioned WOOOO, lmk if i missed anything??

-

-

-

after completing the tour, the last thing the members expected was to be woken up at the ass crack of dawn and taken to italy…

sure. sounds great! who wouldn’t want a vacation? except… they’re working. the entire time.

cameras everywhere, vlog segments, competitions and even a talent show in the itinerary.

woozi works hard.

he works tirelessly to make sure seventeens music is the best around and with the announcement of a new album dropping when they return from italy, he doesn’t have much time to ‘relax.’

when they arrived, all the members were thrilled, ready for this trip even if it meant they had to hold a camera or wake up early to do some shoots. despite how exhausted he is, woozi decided he’ll make the most of it.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when they arrived into italy it was late. jet lag wasn’t helping. while it was 8 pm in italy, it was 3 am in korea. not being able to sleep on the plane, woozi, along with half the members, were exhausted but na pd wanted to get some shots from tonight… couldn’t just have an episode all about the travel with no italy content, right?

they went to visit the rome coliseum and my word, it was beautiful. but after taking a few pictures, he decided he was finished for the evening, taking a seat on the curb beside jun. jun had a camera and was vlogging his point of view, the other members were excitedly talking about the site and history in front of them but woozi just really wanted to go to bed.

he sighed, pushed his long black hair out of his forehead and stood up. “you okay?” jun asked. woozi nodded, putting his hands in his pockets, “yeah. i’m just gonna take a walk. i’ll be back.”

jun nodded and watched as woozi slowly started to venture around the backside of the coliseum.

back here was much more quiet. just a few groups of people taking pictures and a few couples walking while holding hands.

a sweet sound voice behind him made him stop and turn around. “excuse me!” you called. “hi, sorry to bother you. could you take a few pictures for me?”

woozi smiled and agreed, taking a few pictures on your phone and waited for you to check them to see if they were to your liking.

he was handsome. you liked his longer black hair and stockier build— his muscles so prominent even under his t-shirt. your eyes weren’t shy as you took him in to be honest.

after reviewing the pictures, you thanked him and was ready to part your ways with him for the evening.

given his introverted nature, he offered you another smile and put his hands back into his pocket. “have a good night…” your words trailed off. “oh, um. jihoon. my friends call me woozi.” your smile put knots in his stomach. “y/n. nice to meet you, woozi.”

and with that, you left.

he sighed, tossing his head back in annoyance thinking he should’ve just said something to you… he is here for work after all. probably wouldn’t have much time anyways, he thought.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the next day the members were busy all afternoon filming games to try and decide their activity for tomorrow before they were heading out to the wine festival in town. most of the members were excited but woozi doesn’t drink. he rolled his eyes hearing the activity planned for tonight but will make the most of it.

once inside the festival, all the members pretty much split up. woozi went along with jeonghan and hoshi, keeping close by as they started to drink some wine.

hoshi and jeonghan are busy talking about the wine, holding up the camera to film their reactions while woozi stayed on the opposite end, really avoiding the camera for right now.

“woozi?”

he looked over his shoulder then turned around with a smile, “y/n, hi!” jeonghan and hoshi were for sure raising an eyebrow at you two but chose to keep their mouth shut for now.

you noticed the lack of beverage in woozi’s hand, “haven’t found any wine you like yet?”

“i don’t normally drink..” you blinked at him for a moment. “then what are you doing here?”

good question, really.

“i’m sure one glass won’t kill you, wooz.” jeonghan smirked, draping his arm over the younger shoulder. “i’ll get a glass or two. walk with me?” you bit you lip and nodded, following close with him while jeonghan smirked.

woozi only had a few glasses but he really warmed up quickly, talking to you more comfortably.

you two were talking about your adventures so far of everything you’ve done in italy, hobbies and other basic ‘get to know’ statements and you realized you really like him. he was a simple guy, exactly what you needed.

after his last glass was empty, he let out a small laugh, “i think i overdid it a bit.” “you okay? do you need water?”

he shook his head no, pulling his phone out, “no, i think i just want to go back to the airbnb for a bit before everybody returns. you wanna come with me?”

normally you wouldn’t even think to head back with a man you’ve just met in a foreign country but something about woozi made you feel safe. his gentle demeanor put the thought at ease.

“sure, only if it’s okay with your friends..”

“they’ll be gone a while. it’ll be fine.”

gathering your things, he lead you through the crown with his hand on the small of your back, making sure to keep you close.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you and woozi made it back to the airbnb, a smile on his face walking through the empty home— happy it’s just you two right now.

he gave you a quick tour before leading you two outside, his hands still caressing your body lightly.

“i’m having a good time tonight.” he smiled. you pushed yourself more into his frame, “i am too. i’m glad i was able to see you again~”

you looked up at him, stars in your eyes. you looked so pretty to him. without warning, he pressed his lips to yours.

you widened your eyes, not expecting it but welcomed it nonetheless, quickly melting into it. his hands held your waist as if you were going to disappear any second, keeping you close and pulling you so your chest was pressed against his.

he pulled away briefly, trying to gauge your reaction but you kissed him again, gripping on to his shirt to almost ground yourself.

the kiss deepened, growing rougher as the time passed, both of you getting lost into one another.

he kissed from your lips to your jaw then to your neck, small gasps leaving you while you clung to his shirt with desperation.

“jihoon— fuck.”

he smiled against your neck, grazing his teeth over the skin to tease you. “wanna head inside?”

you nodded quickly, not caring how pathetic you came across.

“hold on.” he requested, holding onto your ass for leverage while he picked you up in his frame, putting those large muscles to good use. you held him close, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he quickly made his way to one of the bedrooms. was it even his? who knows. he doesn’t care at this point.

laying you on the bed, he caged you under him, resuming the heated kiss. your hands went to the bottom hem of his shirt, toying with it in a way to silently tell him you want it off. he got the hint, pulling away from you only to rip it off his frame, allowing you to get a good look at his toned frame.

my god, was he built. you had an idea— seeing the ridges of his muscles under the tight athletic shirt he wore when you two had met.

he softly laughed seeing you gawk, a blush creeping up your neck.

he now removed his shorts, leaving himself in just his briefs that left very little to the imagination— prominent outline visible through the thin material. your mouth watered.

he took a seat against the headboard, nodding you over while he palmed himself. you were quick to move across the bed to his lap, already pressing yourself into his growing length while his hands went back to your ass.

you took it upon yourself to remove your shirt, making his lick his lips at your chest before reaching around and helping you undo your bra. what a gentleman :)

he hungrily kissed your lips then down your body to your breasts, massaging one while taking the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue over your sensitive nipple. he looked up at you, meeting your eyes and the sight had you clenching around nothing. you pushed your hips more onto him, making him groan into your chest and making his grip tighter.

hel pulled off, replacing his mouth with his other hand and looked back up at you, eyes dark with desire and pupils blown.

“lay down for me.”

rolling off of him, you laid on your back and he quickly went back to caging you under him, slotting one of his legs between yours. your mind went crazy— his large, muscular thigh lightly pressing into your middle while his tongue explored your mouth your hands found purchase in his long hair, small whimpers flooding into his mouth during this heavy kiss.

he kissed down your jaw to your chest, down your stomach to the waistline of your shorts. you lifted your hips, allowing him to remove them from you. when you were bare for him, his eyes raked over your body savoring every detail of you, trying to commit it to memory.

“shit.. you look so good, baby. can i eat you out? get you ready to take me?”

you nodded quickly, spreading your legs apart for him. his hand slid down your waist to your middle, teasing you with a few light touches to your clit. you squirmed, a soft whimper leaving you, “ji.. don’t tease.. please.”

he made his way between your legs, kissing your thighs and lower stomach but not where you want him most. “why not? we’re just getting started, baby.”

you whined, reaching for his hair to tangle your fingers into it.

“plus, you sound so pretty when you whine~” he smirked against the plush skin of your thigh.

you tugged his hair a bit, looking down at him with desperation in your gaze that made his cock ache behind his briefs.

still holding your gaze, he planted a kiss to your clit, then another before giving it a little teasing kitten-like lick. finally getting some relief, you groaned, tugging his hair in your hand. he groaned in response and that urged him to finally give you what you wanted, licking up your slit with another groan.

focusing on your clit, he pushed his two middle fingers into you, only pushing you to grab his hair harder. you were moaning his name like a prayer, back arching off the bed as he brings you closer to your sweet release.

he could tell you were close, the way your body hugged tight on his fingers, moans growing louder by the second. “s-so close!” without a word, he sped his fingers up quicker, pushing you into your orgasm.

he helped you ride it out, slowly fucking you with his fingers until it was too much then pulled them out to lick them clean.

when you down from high, you blinked down at woozi, seeing he was now naked and between your legs. he raised an eyebrow and you nodded, signaling you were ready for him.

he ran the tip of his length through your folds to slick himself up then pushed in, biting his bottom lip while his hands found your waist. he was cursing under his breath feeling just how tight you hugged him… he was in heaven.

woozi moved his slowly at first, really dragging out each thrust while his tip hit your sweet spot. “fuck, y/n.. you feel so good.” he groaned, making you clench around him at the praise.

he watched where you two were meeting, tugging your body to help you meet his thrusts. all you could do was moan and reach for his bicep to ground yourself.

loving the feeling of your hands on his body, he slid his hands up your body and leaned down to cage you under his body yet again. you loved it. his lips connected back to yours while your hands found his hair again, this time at the nape of his neck. he groaned against your lips, thrusting so quickly into you, you felt like you could break in half. your orgasm was approaching and woozi wasn’t too far behind you.

he kissed down your jaw to your neck, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses in your hot skin. “w-woozi, gonna.. cum!” you whimpered out loudly. “cum for me, baby. wanna hear how good you sound.” he replied into your neck before grazing his teeth against the skin and beginning to leave a dark mark. the way you skin throbbed hot was enough to trigger your orgasm, squeezing your legs tight around woozi and a loud cry leaving you. god, did he make you feel so good.

after you came down from the orgasm, he chased his high, thrusts becoming sloppy yet pointe, really relishing on the way your pussy hugged him and fluttered through your high.

a few more thrusts and he came keep inside of you, your name leaving his lips. he stalled his hips and went back to kissing you, this time deeper and more passionately causing butterflies in your stomach. you smiled against his lips, giggling when you felt him smile back.

he pulled out of you and quickly cleaned you up before pulling you close to him, letting out a blissful sigh against your hair.

you two could’ve drifted off to sleep, he wouldn’t have cared but, he didn’t want to subject you to dealing with his members or management so after a quick cuddle session, you two got dressed and left the airbnb, you agreeing for him to talk you to your hotel.

on the walk, he grabbed your hand. “thank you for today, it was fun!!” you said with a smile that he reciprocated. “mhm, of course, baby. hey, do you think i could see you again before i leave?”

you nodded and smiled bright, “absolutely.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

after he got your number and dropped you off, he finally checked his phone and seeing a slew of messages from hoshi.

hoshi: we’re about to head back to the airbnb are you done

hoshi: jk we can’t find joshua

hoshi: ok now we’re on our way

woozi: i just walked her to her hotel now, im headed back myself

hoshi: nice

hoshi: was she good?

woozi: …

woozi: i’m not having this conversation with you

hoshi: i’m just saying, she was really cute

hoshi: if it doesn’t work out with you two… send her my way

woozi: absolutely not

woozi: id like to see her again before we go back to korea

hoshi: fine. sharing maybe? 👀

woozi thought about it for a single second, a smirk on his face at the idea.

woozi: maybe. we’ll talk later.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a/n: i’m a massive, firm believer of hard dom woozi, it just didn’t feel right with the scene i set so i redid the entire smut 😭 oh well. hoshi next? hxw crumbs?

[five-bi-five-mind]

Hiya, Can you write something like, reader is sick and still goes on the case.(reader is also very stubborn) So, JJ, being the motherly person she is, makes it her mission to keep reader at the hotel and take care of her until she's all better.

Sick Day

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!reader

Words: 2.5k+

Genre: Fluff

Summary: It's rare for you to get sick and even more rare for you to admit that you are. There's only one person you don't want finding out you came to work sick, but unfortunately for you things don't go quite your way.

Warnings: Honestly, none. Just mentions of having a fever and feeling ill.

A/N: As someone who is currently ill and constantly trying to ignore that fact, my frustration really poured into how I wrote reader oops

“You look like shit,” Morgan jabbed playfully at your side as you both walked side by side. 

He wasn’t wrong. Sure, it was early in the morning, but you were used to starting your day at the crack of dawn. But today you struggled to even roll yourself out of bed and get ready. When you did finally get yourself ready for work your body ached as if you had already ran a marathon. You were at least a little relieved to know that you’d be working in the station of the case the team was working on for today. If you kept your head down, buried yourself in studying the evidence, maybe people wouldn’t notice you were feeling unwell. And by people, you specifically meant your girlfriend, Jennifer Jareau, who’d insisted you take some time off rather than go on this trip. She thought you were getting sick before you even realized it yourself and you really didn’t want to give her any reason to gloat about being right. 

So, hopefully you could stay out of her line of sight in the precinct for long enough to make it through the day. Maybe you could make a stop to get some cold medicine, sleep early, and hope that you’d feel better in the morning. And if not… well, you’d just try to avoid pairing up with JJ as much as possible. Except, then you got the text that a new crime scene was found and half the team was meant to be there. Half the team included you, Morgan, Rossi, and, unfortunately, JJ.

“Thanks,” you elbowed him back. “So do you.”

“No, I don’t.” He shot you that signature Derek Morgan grin and as you stared at him, completely unamused, you knew he was right.

“No you don’t,” you sighed in defeat. You both kept walking towards the scene. JJ was already there, you could see her standing and talking with a few officers. 

“You should go back to the hotel, call in sick. You need a break.” 

“Yeah, not going to happen,” You shook your head. With each step you got closer to JJ you felt a little more panic. You were still trying to figure out a way to either avoid JJ or pretend like you weren’t sick around her. If Morgan knew the second he saw you, you were feeling a little screwed. 

“You really think your girlfriend is going to let you run around sick as hell during a case?” 

He had a point. 

“Not if she doesn’t find out,” you shrugged. He stopped for a moment just to stare at you. His face said it all. He wasn’t buying that that would work and honestly, neither were you. “Just stick close to me, maybe if we partner up she won’t notice.” 

“So let me get this straight,” he started. “Your plan is to just avoid your girlfriend for what? The entire case?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t you two share a hotel room?”

“Nope, we have separate rooms on cases and to be professional we always take both of them.”

He still clearly wasn’t buying this plan of yours, but you had to at least try, right? You really didn’t want to call in sick. It was rare that you even got sick and even more so for you to take a sick day. Hopefully, people would be too busy with the case to notice you. If they did, you could make up some excuse, like saying it was just an off day for you. Or maybe jet lag even. You’d figure it out. 

When you both approached the scene, you made sure to position yourself as far from where JJ was standing as possible. You didn’t miss the way she glanced at you with her head cocked to the side and a curious glance thrown your way. You gave her a meek wave and turned your attention elsewhere, hoping she’d shrug it off and go back to the case.

That seemed to work for the moment. You poked around the crime scene with Morgan for a while, taking in what you could and listening as Rossi gave you more details. Luckily for you, JJ had been there early and already had the rundown. She was still busy with officers, discussing next moves to go forward on finding the unsub.

After a while, Rossi left and you and Morgan were yet again alone. And, to your relief, JJ was still far from where you were, distracted with other matters. So far the day had been uneventful. Other than Morgan, no one else had pointed out that you were sick and you had successfully avoided your girlfriend. But then the weather started to turn and when a gust of cold wind suddenly blew, kicking up leaves and dirt with it, it felt like it went directly through your lungs. The burn of your lungs mixed with the bite of the cold air caused you to have a coughing fit. 

You doubled over, your lungs felt like they were trying to leave your body as you continued to cough. Your eyes watered and you clutched at your chest, trying to take deep breaths to stop the coughing, but it only made it worse. Morgan just stood by you, shooting you a look like he expected that to happen, like you brought it upon yourself. Which, technically you did since you insisted on being out, but still it wasn’t like you wanted to cough up your own lungs. 

Gasping for air, you finally stopped. Struggling to straighten up, you realize Morgan was no longer standing next to you. Your eyes scanned the crime scene and Morgan was nowhere near it. When you spun around to see where he had gone, your eyes immediately zeroed in on him. He was exactly where you were hoping he wouldn’t be.

Down the street is where you spotted him, right in front of JJ. From what it looked like at first, you could almost assume they were talking about the case. But then Morgan’s head turned towards you and JJ’s followed. Her hand went to her hips and even from far away you could still make out the look of frustration she was shooting your way. Fuck busted. 

“Oh come on!” You yelled out towards them. JJ was already stomping her way to you and you knew it was all over now. One quick look at you, and she would be able to tell you’re sick. You might as well pack your things now and drag yourself back to the hotel room, it might be better to retreat with your tail tucked between your legs than to be chewed out by JJ for being so reckless with your own health. 

“You’re sick?” JJ stopped in front of you. Her question was more of a statement as she looked you over. Her eyes took in your flushed face, the dark circles under your eyes, and the way you were slightly wheezing with every breath, still trying to recover from your coughing fit.

“No!” You protested, following it with a hard cough you couldn’t hold back. JJ just continued to stare you down, her foot tapping on the asphalt as she waited for you to try again. “Okay, maybe.” She stayed silent and you could tell, if you kept this up it was just going to be worse for you. “Fine, yes.”

Without warning, JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you closer with her own while her other flies straight to your forehead. She holds it there for a minute and you do your best to give her your most displeased glare. She lets out a frustrated sigh when she lets her hand fall from your head. “You’re burning up, (Y/N).” She says as she uses her other hand to pull you with her. “You definitely have a fever.” 

“Morgan!” She calls out. Morgan’s eyes had been on the two of you the minute JJ stomped over to you, watching the exchange between you two like a movie. “I’m taking her back to the hotel, can you tell Hotch I’ll be back after a while. You guys got this right?”

He just shot you both a thumbs up and a triumphant grin from afar and JJ continued on, pulling you with her to one of the cars. You didn’t say much as you followed behind. There wasn’t much to say, she knew you were sick and JJ, being the overprotective girlfriend that she was, would do everything in her power to make sure you recovered as soon as possible. 

She practically shoved you in the passenger seat of the car when you both reached it. You landed with a huff and when you started to reach for the seat belt she swatted your hands away and did it herself, before walking over to the driver’s side of the car and getting in. Part of you felt like the treatment was deserved, afterall you were being stubborn by ignoring what your body needed and going to work anyways, but then you also felt like JJ was going the extra mile to irritate you with how she was treating you. Throughout the whole car ride, you sat there silently stewing in your own frustration as JJ spoke mostly to herself about her plans for you.

“After I get you into bed, I’m going to run out to the store and get cold meds, a thermometer, some fever reducer…” She listed so many things you felt were unnecessary. After a while you just tuned her out. There was no way you needed all of that. What you needed was to just sleep it off and by tomorrow you’d bounce back. 

When you reached the hotel, JJ pulled you into her own room, stating that you were going to stay there for the rest of the case so that she could look after you. Before you could so much as say one word, she had already swiped the card to your own room out of your hand and left to grab your things and move them into hers. You sat on the bed, arms crossed as you stared at the hotel door and waited for her return, hoping the pout you’d been trying to throw her way would get her to ease up at least a little. It didn’t. 

“Hotch texted,” JJ said as she came back into the room with a handful of your stuff. “Said that you should stay resting until we’re done with the case and I can be here as much as you need.” 

“But the team-”

“Are perfectly capable of handling this without us.” She finished for you. Having sat down all your stuff, she walks over to where you sat on the bed. “You need rest.” She knelt down in front of you, her hands taking both of yours in her own. Finally, her eyes softened as she looked at you. This whole time you could tell she was frustrated that you ignored your current state in order to work, but she could also see that you genuinely did feel physically horrible. If you were being honest, it felt like someone had run you over with a truck. Your body felt exhausted, no matter how much sleep you got, your chest felt tight from the coughing you tried to hold back, and your head was throbbing in pain. But you were always one to push past it for a case, your top priority was protecting people, even if it meant you had to suffer. JJ’s, however, was protecting you. 

“Your palms are sweaty, your hands are shaking,” JJ noted. “And your body is burning up.” You’d be embarrassed about it, but she was right. It was probably quite obvious that you were incredibly ill right now. “Why did you think it was okay to be on a case?”

“I’m needed,” you sighed and hung your head low, knowing that whatever excuse you had wouldn’t be good enough for JJ. She would never say anything was more important than your well-being. 

“The team can handle it,” Her voice was surprisingly gentle as she spoke. “This job is demanding, but you can put yourself first sometimes. Please,” her hand slipped out of yours to cup your cheek. Your eyes moved back up to meet hers and the look she gave you was one of concern and love. “Put yourself first for me. You might think you can handle it, but when you're sick it might compromise your attentiveness, your reflexes, or your strength. You and I both know that even taking a second too long to react could mean life or death.” 

She was right. When you woke up this morning and forced your body to push through and go to work, you didn’t see it that way, but now you do. Thinking more on it, you wouldn’t want to see JJ going to work like this. She would be putting herself in danger. If an unsub came for her when she was feverish, would she be able to fight them off? Would you have in your current state? It didn’t take you long to realize you wouldn’t have. One well placed attack to the abdomen would’ve had you doubled over in a coughing fit. If a little bit of dust and cold wind had you incapacitated for a moment, then an unsub surely would and you can’t afford to be off your guard even for a moment when you have a job like this.

“I just want to keep you safe,” JJ continued. “And if that means you’re not taking care of your body, then I’ll do it for you. I can’t let you needlessly put yourself in danger, (Y/N). I can’t lose you.”

 You nodded and leaned into her touch, finally dropping your pout and letting her do what she’s been trying to do ever since the moment she learned you weren’t feeling well. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’ll rest.”

“Good,” JJ stood and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Now, try to sleep.” She pulled you up from the bed briefly, only to pull the covers out and let you slip under them. When you were settled in bed she placed one more kiss on your cheek before walking towards the door.

“I’ll be back with something for your fever,” She said as her hand reached the door knob.. 

With that she walked out the door and you let your head fall onto the pillows. Your body immediately felt better the moment you allowed it to completely relax. The blankets were warm, the bed was soft and for once it felt like your chills were finally going away. Without even realizing it, a few hours had passed and you had drifted off to sleep, only to be woken up with JJ’s return. Medicine placed on the nightstand along with a nice, warm cup of your favorite tea and a kiss pressed softly to your lips. 

She stayed with you the rest of the night, making sure all your needs were met, drawing you a warm bath to relax your aching body, and holding you any time you would drift back to sleep.

taglist: @leecravesdeath @daddy-jareau @olliethedonut @desperate-gay @louderfortheback 

Join the taglist here

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :)

Part 1

No, no ignore the smily face i assure you it means nothing foreboding, nothing foreboding at all.

Next >

---------

“It’s suspicious,” Marinette glares as they leave customs.

“What would that be, Mari?” Chloe yawns, not bothering to dedicate her limited remaining brain power apparently.

“Lila,” She whispers back, “She’s been so quiet all the way here,”

“What about how she weaseled her way into first class?” Chloe yawns again, sleep mask resting on her head.

“Or tried to steal your bag,” Kagami says with venom, her having saved Marinette from that disaster.

“Accused you of giving her the wrong flight time,” Adrien adds, somehow being full awake even after their long flight.

“Slipped metal into your pocket so security would go off,” Chloe downright glares at Adrien, but would never admit to the bags under her eyes.

“Came by and woke you up every time you fell asleep,” Kagami looks at her pointedly, shadows under her eyes being her only give away.

“Too quite,” Marinette whispers, the list going largely ignored as they approach the security scan.

“Just relax Mari,”  Adrien pats her shoulder, not enough to break her concentration, “Lila will be so distracted by being in Gotham she won't have time for you,”

Adrien was wrong.

Of course he was wrong.

This is Lila they're talking about.

“Oh Marinette!” Lila all but yells as Marinette is placing her bag in a tray, “I’m so glad you didn’t go through with it,”

Marinette cringes, the security guards all looking her way as Lila dances off. She just sighs as she is escorted away by the airport security, to the protest of her friends and not much else.

“No sir I am not holding any firearms or weapons,” Marinette answers as monotone as possible, the security guard didn’t deserve her ire not matter how tiresome this was getting.

“We interview the source,” Oh no “Apparently you were discussing terrorist activities,”

“I was not sir, Lila must be mistaken,” Yep big mistake, I’m sure that's all it is , “I’m simply here for a class trip,”

“You’re wearing a bulletproof vest,”

Yeah probably should have left that one at home

“My parents are protective, they know how dangerous Gotham can be,” They were not fans of the horror stories Aunt Selina used to tell her from this city, “They insisted I have it as protection,”

While they most certainly wanted her to be safe the vest was more her idea. It was also more for enabling trouble than avoiding it. At least she was trying to be safe about secret crime fighting.

“Makes sense,” He sighs from across the table, checking through some paperwork, “You’re seventeen, here on a class trip right?”

“Yes sir,”

“Well if you’re here on a Wayne funded trip they probably did and extensive background check,” He pauses for a minute looking deep in thought, “Alright then, you can go,”

That seems kind of lax

“Are you sure?”

“We literally have super villains walking through here every other day,” True that, “You’re holding no weapons and have been endorsed by the Wayne's that's better than most people that have been in here,”

“Well if you’re sure,” Marinette stands awkwardly walking to the door as he waves her off, “Is there anything I need to sign, or…”

“Unless I want to fill out extra paperwork, no,” He seems so tired, Marinette wished she could get back at Lila for making his job harder.

“Have a good day then!” She smiles brightly, getting a small one in return.

She leaves, the security guards handing back her bag, fortunately not mentioning the miracle box or her Kwamis. She smiles brightly, even with Lila trying to ruin her trip she could still enjoy her time here in Gotham- and her phone buzzes with an Akuma alert.

With a sigh, Marinette ducks into the nearest bathroom, locking a stall behind her.

“Kaalki,” The Kwami zips out of her bag, “Tikki, Combine,”

With a flash of light followed by another she appears in Paris dropping Kaalki’s transformation.

She looks over the city, some Akuma attacking the Eiffel tower. At least they didn't seem to be the brainwashing type, she didn’t have Chat Noir there to help with crowd control.

With a flip she jumps, planning to kick the Akuma on the way down. They dodge and she lands in front of them instead.

“Well, well if it isn’t the bug,” The Akuma, in a horrible patch work costume mocks, a purple mask appearing over their face, “Hand over your miraculous!”

How about you come and make me Hawkmoth? I promise to stick that cane up your ass

Oh how she wishes she could say just that, but it wouldn't be very Ladybug of her. Why did the younger her have to have a stick up her butt?

“Not today Hawkmoth,” She says instead, making sure to put the practiced amount of enthusiasm into it, “Or any other day for that matter,”

“How are you going to save Paris without your little kitty cat?”

How are you going to beat me with that terrible fashion sense

Besides Chat Noir deserved a break. At least she hoped he was taking a break, he couldn’t tell because of secret identity reasons. It wasn't like she had any right to stop him, she was having a vacation in Gotham right now, and she was out all the time for work. She could manage without Chat for a while, he deserved that much.

“I will do whatever it takes to protect the people of Paris,” Ladybug remembers to answer the question.

“Hand over your miraculous now!” The Akuma lunges at her

I should have chosen a different persona

She dodges the beam of light that can’t mean anything good. Jumping back to get some distance.

Chat Noir had the right idea

She bites back the cutting remark on the tip of her tongue. Instead throw out her yo to wrap around their arm. The Akuma pulls it forward, sending her through the air. She leans into it swinging around to get a better vantage point, studying the monologuing Akuma below.

Maybe I can for Starling

She has created Starling as a vigilante identity to use in Gotham, if the class was ever in trouble. No not if, when . With a sigh she summons her lucky charm getting a table tennis paddle.

Although I’m only meant to use that identity as a disguise to protect the class

The only thing that stood out was the Akuma's hand, she'd have to gather more information before striking.

Maybe Starling can have a word or two with Lila, that could be fun

She drops down in front of the Akuma. They seemed to like monologuing, maybe all she had to do was probe a little bit.

“Why would you want to side with Hawkmoth?”

“This is my family's greatest heirloom it has been passed from generation to generation for centuries, some fool broke it and I was crushed having disappointed all my ancestors!” The Akuma holds up a broach type jewel, “But Hawkmoth- Hawkmoth brought it back and now my greatest and dearest treasure will forever be-”

Ladybug smacks it to the ground, crushing it underfoot.

The Akuma looks at her shocked, letting out a long drawn out gasp. Marinette does not meet their eye as she catches the Akuma. She throws the paddle she used to smack it out of their hand into the air to cast the cure.

I must be really jet lagged, I’m usually at least a little more creative than that, but it worked

She pretends not to see the reporters coming in for interviews, seeing the victim and their broach in one piece. She makes a speedy exit, needing to transport back to Gotham before the class get too ancy.

“I’m sorry the rented bus left a long time ago,” The attendant informed her, looking sorry for the dishevelled teen.

Marinette groaned, so much for running around the airport for thirty minutes with a dead phone. Thanking the attendant she sulks off to collect her bag instead, she’d have to figure another way to the hotel.

She spends another hour hunting down her bag. Chasing after leads of people who might have mistook it. Checking again with Airport security, who again pulled her aside for having a suspicious missing bag. Luckily the security guard before defended her, she brought him a coffee and two for herself.

“Maybe someone will return it?” Tikki whispers, her and Kaalki hidden in the folds of her scarf.

“It’s fine Tikki,” Marinette sighs, halfway through her first cup in under a minute, “I have replicas of all of them anyway, I’ll just grab some samples from the MDC fashion show,”

She’d have to stop by later, the outfits should have been transported last week along with most of her recent catalogue. The only problem was all the other necessities she lost. But that wasn’t a problem, she carried the miracle box in her backpack and that's all that really matters.

“And some of my… special outfits when we go back home,”

She had altered her current outfit to transform into her vigilante disguise. Her scarf pulled up and could be turned inside out into a mask. Her skirt could be transformed into a cape and hood combo. A zip down the middle of the skirt to split it for the cape and a zip up hood that lay flat along her skirt. She simply turned it inside out and wore it around her shoulders. Combined with a bullet proof vest it wasn't half bad, her belt full of weapons could always be hid under her skirt which was a big plus.

She sighs waiting for a taxi in the cold Gotham air, hating it more than most. Although she supposed superhuman strength was a fair exchange for extra cold fingers. Marinette fought to stay awake, she had also been holding Kaalki for so long she was starting to develop the ability to sleep standing up and would doze off randomly. Certainly helpful at times, but not right now.

“Hello,” Marinette is startled out of her drowsiness.

She looks at the hesitant young man before her, looking just as tired as she is.

“Hello?”

“Is something the matter?” Something sparks at the back of her mind, a feeling she often gets from Chloe whenever she is helpful.

Do I look that bad?

“Just a mix up with transportation,” She smiles, he clearly knows it’s fake.

“Do you need a ride?”

“No I’m-” She sighs, what could go wrong getting in the car of a random person in Gotham, “Yes, I do thank you,”

“Over here, I’m Tim by the way” He stifles a yawn, leading her towards a limousine, the door being opened by a driver.

“Marinette, here,” She hands over the extra coffee, “You look like you need it just as much as me,”

Tim looks at her like a god sent, taking the coffee as they reach the limo.

“Good call Alfred,” Tim whispers to the driver, slipping into the car.

“Hello miss, I am Alfred Pennyworth,” She shakes his hand, something stronger fires at the back of her mind, a true holder perhaps? But Chloe was a true holder right?

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” She smiles, trying to assess what miraculous would suit him.

“Best get inside Miss Dupain-Cheng,” She climbs inside at Alfred's behest, “Gotham is awfully cold for a Lady,”

She gets the feeling that is not chivalry.

“Where to Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Alfred asks, already in the driver's seat.

“Wayne hotel please,” She pulls her backpack onto her lap, still regarding Alfred suspiciously.

“Traveling alone?” Tim asks absentmindedly, still nursing his coffee cup.

“I’m here with my class, they left without-” No that's no good , “I got held up they went ahead,”

“Class… staying at the Wayne hotel…” Tim mumbles to himself.

“I believe what Master Tim is trying to ask is if you are part of the Martha Wayne foundation trip,” Alfred informs from the front seat.

“Yeah that,” Tim takes another scalding gulp of coffee.

“Yes I sent in the submission, I’m still surprised we got it,” Marinette had been thrilled at a trip to Gotham, it is where her Aunt Selina lives after all.

“You seem very responsibility Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Alfred complements, “Almost as if you could shoulder the weight of Paris,”

“I didn’t say where I was from,” Marinette tenses getting more than a little unsettled, he seemed to know something more.

“Not to worry, I have close connections with the Wayne's and was aware this years class was from Paris is all,”

“I see,” Marinette nods along, the possible meaning behind the comment still being concerning.

“We forgot your bags!!!” Tim suddenly yells, jumping up and making Marinette jump, they both curse in sync as they spill coffee on themselves.

“It’s alright!” luckily the coffee landed on her black tights, so no noticeable stains, “My bags were stolen,”

“Oh…” Tim relaxes back, “Wait… that's not alright at all!”

“It’s fine, I already have a plan to get some spare clothes and I just need to run to the store,”

“Right… to the Wayne hotel was it?” Marinette nods and Tim starts tapping away at his phone.

She fishes out some wet wipes from her bag, passing them to Tim, who looks confused until she points out the growing coffee stain. With a smile and a few more taps at the phone he takes them off her.

“Left behind and bags stolen, doesn't sound like your Lucky day,” Alfred presses, and he needs to stop, it could be chance, surely its just chance.

“I guess not,”

You don’t know the half of it.

“Well I hope the rest of your day is much better,” Tim bids as they pull up to the hotel.

“Thank you, and thank you so much for the ride,” Alfred opens the door for her to get out.

“Not a problem,” She waves them off, watching them disappear down the street.

They’re nice, probably wont ever get to see them again, thats a shame

“Dick! Holy fuck!” Tim kicks down the door of his brothers room, “I just met the nicest girl who's had the shittest day on earth,”

“First of all welcome back, how was your trip?” Dick greets hanging from the ceiling as Tim takes his desk chair, “Second, what are you talking about?”

“Met a girl at the Airport who didn’t have a ride, she gave me coffee,”

“That's enough to buy your loyalty,” Dick grins, Tim flips him off.

“Listen, she's part of that Martha Wayne Foundation trip and her class left her at the Airport!”

“What?!” Dick drops from the ceiling onto his bed, “Thats so dangerous, especially in Gotham,”

“Right?! She even had her luggage stolen!” Tim pushes the chair over to Dick, “And she was still so nice, even after an eight hour flight!”

“You said she was part of the Wayne foundation trip?” Dick asks, getting a nod from Tim, “Yeah, we are definitely seeing her again,”

[mystic-sky]

This is just a request, but do you think you can write something short about gojo meeting his s/o who is a poc and how he’d react to her curly hair 🥺👉🏾👈🏾 the fandom is still pretty new so there’s not a lot of poc drabbles out there if any at all.

Here you go bby, I hope you enjoy 💕✨

Summary: An AU where you’re a sorcerest whose stationed in Japan due to the National Sorcerer Exchange Program I just made up lol. Even though it’s your first encounter Satoru is a big flirt, as usual✨💘

Word count: 1.7k

It was annoying, being one of the few special grade sorcerers based in Tokyo. Satoru Gojo often wished he could duplicate himself at least three or four times, just to reduce some of the workload stress he had. The older he got, the more he wished he wasn’t the strongest- and that’s a pretty surprising statement on his end.

He felt he couldn’t catch a break. Between special grade work, his students and now looking after Yuji Itadori, who hysterically swallowed a special grade object, he had a lot on his plate.

It was hardly a burden for him. He only wished he could be in multiple places at once. This way, he could make sure the higher ups wouldn’t mess with his students, who meant so much to him.

In sight of the increased special grade activity in Japan and several other countries, the first ever Sorcerer Exchange program was implemented by higher ups across the world. It would ensure that special and first grade sorcerers were evenly spread out and or placed in regions that needed special attention. Satoru wasn’t particularly fond of anything the higher ups did, but this idea wasn’t so bad.

“A government funded, international sorcerer exchange program,” Yaga informs Satoru, who sits across from him, idly drinking his tea.

“And how does this work exactly?” Satoru raises a brow at Yaga before dropping cubes of sugar into his cup, stirring loudly.

“For 6 month spans, high level sorcerers who applied to the exchange will be stationed in different countries to regulate curse activity.”

“Sounds like it pays more. Nanamin might like that.”

“It does, depending on your skill level.” Yaga sits back in his seat. “We’ve already received a few sorcerers from America, Africa, China, Russia-”

“All special grade?” Satoru interjects.

“Currently the exchange program only allows special and first grade sorcerers. Considering the high levels of cursed energy around the world this year, it would be best if we avoided any casualties by placing inexperienced sorcerers in the wrong places.”

“That reminds me. You’re prohibited from participating, considering we’re a red area. Until cursed activity improves here you won’t be allowed to participate.”

“Aww c’mon, you guys suck.” Satoru cocks his head back, sighing loudly.

He already traveled a lot for special grade missions but never for more than a few days. Now there was a whole six-month program and he wasn’t allowed to participate in it? Then again, he couldn’t leave Yuji here with the possibility of the higher ups trying to hurt him again. He promised himself he would protect all of his students.

“There are several meetings I must attend tomorrow and I’d like for you to be there. Don’t be late.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Satoru is already up and gripping the handle on the office door.

“I’ve also decided to assign a co-teacher to your first years, for your shorter stationed trips every now and then. She’s an extremely talented special grade from the exchange program. So you needn’t worry of a repeat of the detention center incident with Yuji.”

He had already swung the door open, towering above your body in the door frame. Your nose is barely touching his jacket, and hand almost touching his chest as you were attempting to knock. You take a step back, a bit startled.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I tried to knock,” you say, looking up at the blindfolded man in front of you. “I’m looking for Masamichi Yaga?”

Satoru is startled by your flawless Japanese, considering you’re clearly not of Japanese descent. He took note of your tan skin and big, curly hair that was pinned back in certain spots to display your face.

What a cutie.

“No, I’m Satoru Gojo. Principal Yaga’s the one sitting behind me.” He’s not entirely surprised by your appearance, considering he’s traveled all over the world to fight curses. “And you are?”

You almost think he’s flirting, considering how smooth the question was. Also, you’re now recognizing who he is, cheeks reddening a bit.

“I’m (Full Name). You’re the special grade I’m going to be subbing with for the first years! I’ve heard great things!” You politely bow a bit.

“I know.” His grin large and cocky as he steps out the way, allowing you to walk in. “No need to be so formal though.”

You’re slightly put off by his attitude, but principal Yaga interjects quickly.

“(Last Name), come in. I’ve been awaiting your arrival. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Yaga is on his feet now, bowing towards you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m excited to work with you all.” You say as he motions you to sit and have some tea.

Satoru has found a reason to stay in the room, plopping down beside you and taking up his tea he had previously abandoned.

“Thanks for sending Ichiji to the airport to help with my belongings. I brought so much stuff, I hope it wasn’t too much for him.” You brain flashes back to Ichiji struggling to hold all of your luggage outside the baggage claim.

“Pffft, feel free to call on him whenever you want. That’s what he’s here for.” Satoru assures you, flashing you a toothy grin. You get the feeling that he probably made Ichiji’s job a living hell.

“I must say, Ms. (Last Name), your Japanese is remarkable. How did you become so fluent?” Yaga asks, filling your cup.

“I’m flattered. I taught myself what I could before attending (insert random ass college name in Japan) University. I’ve always admired Japanese culture so I studied it pretty hard. I can also speak (Native language, if you have one) and (two other languages of your choosing).”

“Wow, your Japanese is better than most locals.” Satoru chuckled. “And you’re pretty too. Lucky me.”

You shifted in place on the sofa. The most powerful sorcerer known to man was sitting beside you and he was complimenting you.

“Thank you,” you say loosely, picking up your teacup.

“Ahem,” Yaga interrupts, earning a tiny snort from Satoru.

“He hates it when I flirt.” Satoru whispers as he leans over towards you. Your face feels a bit hot, and you decide it’s from the steam of the tea in your face and not the handsome man leaning a bit too close to you. You set the cup down after the lightest sip.

“I hate to get down to business so soon Ms. (Last Name), but I’d like for you to get settled in as soon as possible. I’ve mapped out a few assignments for you this week. This is your first.” He slides the first report across the table.

“There have been several reports of abnormal cursed energy in Shinjuku City. It’s likely a special grade. I’d like for you to get to the bottom of it. It shouldn’t be a problem, considering your level of expertise. I’ve forwarded the documents to you as well.” The glint in his glasses makes you chuckle a bit. You flip through the report briefly.

“I skimmed this one on the flight. Whatever it is,” you begin, taking out your phone, “seems to be luring children. This corresponds with the rise in missing childrens’ cases I read about in Shinjuku.”

You place the article on your phone down on the table for principal Yaga to read. You liked to do your own research on locals news to see if curses had any sort of correspondence with a certain area’s events.

“You think a curse is kidnapping children?” Satoru suggests.

“It’s just a hunch. It’s nothing I haven’t encountered before.” You bite the nail on your thumb, realizing the inevitable.

“Unfortunately, if I’m correct, those children most likely aren’t alive.”

You stand up, firmly.

“I trust you’ll take care of it then,” Yaga hands your device towards you.

“Most definitely,” you look at your watch. “And I’ll be done before dinner.”

You offer the principal a smile before you slip on your trench coat, eager to take on your first mission.

“By all means, it can wait until the morning after you’ve rested.” Yaga persists.

“Nope! Not when children are potentially involved. I can’t risk it.” You straighten your clothes, and bow once more. “I’ll report back soon.”

“(Name) doesn’t let jet lag stop her from doing her job. What an admirable woman.” Satoru cooed.

“Well, Gojo-san, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You begin to wave but Satoru is on his feet, and right behind you, making you stumble back again.

“Oh no, I’m coming with you.” He grins. “I’ve gotta see what the most powerful special grade sorceress is capable of in person.”

While you had heard of your own nickname before, you hated when people called you that. You tried your best to be humble about it. There’s always new ways to improve your cursed technique, even if you don’t know how yet.

“So you do know who I am,” you shifted your stance, hands on your hips.

“I’ve heard a few things,” he says slyly. “But I’d like to see them first hand.”

“Hmph, alright then. I suppose you can show me around Shinjuku. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.” You flip your hair, making your way towards the door.

“And it’s your lucky day, I feel like showing off.” You say, peaking over your shoulder.

“Great, it’s a date.”

You stop dead in your tracks, just two steps out of Yaga’s office.

“What?”

“Even after four years of university in Japan? I said, it’s a date.”

The door shuts behind him, and his grin is even more smug.

The audacity.

“You’re not going on a date with me unless you ask me properly.” You roll your eyes, swaying down the steps. So this was Satoru Gojo.

“C’mon sweetheart, we’d be iconic as hell— the strongest man and the strongest woman? We’d be unstoppable.”

“I don’t even know what you look like underneath that thing.” You say, motioning towards his blindfold.

Oh , but you lied. You’d seen his Instagram.

He was a selfie fanatic. That and a cake fiend.

“Wanna see right now? Will it change your mind?” His voice low and steady behind you.

“I’ve got a curse to excorcise.” You roll your eyes, speeding up ahead of him. It didn’t help much considering his legs were so long.

“You know you wanna,” he bends down, voice deep in your ear.

“I’m not listening~

You’re far ahead of him now, attempting to hide the heat on your face and hearing deep chuckles echo behind you.

“Ah, this is going to be the best six months ever!” He laughs heartily.

A small smile crept on your lips.

Maybe it would be.

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 30

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L  Warnings: Language, angst, meeting new characters Important Question: do you guys prefer shorter or longer chapters? also, I listened to first love / late spring by Mitski for this ch if anyone else wants to listen along!

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 30: Like a Tall Child

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

Remus was alone for the trip back to King’s Cross; not wanting to be stuck with James or Peter who would only pester him. He mulled over his thoughts as his head rested against the window, watching the scenery whip by. But the more he had time to think, it caused more guilt to build; they were only trying to be supportive. They cared so much, still willing to associated with someone like… him. And all he did was push them away. He didn’t deserve real mates like them.

Remus tried to distract himself: knitting, drawing — reading next year’s material, but settled on pulling out his cartridge of cigarettes. About to light one, his attention was drawn to the soft knocking on the carriage door. Lily was there, waving before coming in.

“Hey,” she said, closing the door and sitting down. “I wanted to say bye for the summer.”

He exhaled, now itching for the rush of nicotine while Lily fidgeted in her seat. He already knew why she was there.

“Sev — Snape — came to me a couple days ago…”

It was impossible to escape, wasn’t it?

“They’re mad, his theories… He’s been telling me the entire year and kept going on about this one story… wild story of you and Y/N and the other Marauders…” Lily looked up nervously.

Instead of getting angry, Remus closed his eyes, feeling himself sink further into the cushions, centring his breathing. “What did he say?”

“He’s been telling me you’re a… a...”

“Werewolf?”

She froze at the word, having to take a deep inhale and suddenly looked paler than usual. Remus wanted to jump out of the moving train. “Yes,” she stated, “But I told him to bugger off.”

Lily stopped again, meeting his eyes. “So… It’s true?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Lily sat straight, leaning over and even putting a hand on her chest, close to her heart. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

(Letters between Y/N and friends)

To my lovely Whiskers, I hope your summer has been grand so far. Are you sure you can’t spend time with me? It’s been so lonely. Prongs

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Dear Bambi, Unfortunately, I can’t. Mom’s dragging me to New York for the month. Something about being invited to do a special surgery. Said leaving me alone will do no good. I promise to bring you back a souvenir? How are things with Black? Whiskers

━━━༻✩༺━━━

My adoring, wonderful Whiskers, And it hasn’t. My parents are concerned. They’ve been trying to get me to talk about what happened but I can’t. Dumbledore and McGonagall have already started their punishments. He lost over 200 points for next year, got detention for half the year and he can’t try out for the Quidditch team if he wanted to. I wonder what they’ll do next. I love souvenirs! All things Muggle! Yours truly, Prongs/Bambi/James

━━━༻✩༺━━━

July 20th, 1976 Meet me in Times Square at 1 pm on the 8th. There’s a bench outside a bagel store, there’s no way you’ll miss it. Until next time, Matthew G.

━━━༻✩༺━━━

¡Hola! Greetings from Barcelona! My brothers took a few weeks off to spend time with me to come to Spain with my parents! They’re dragging me to a football game later. I heard they call it ‘soccer’ in North America. M. McKinnon

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Y/N L/N, Hello, I hope you’re having a wonderful break. Your letters are the highlight of my day and they keep me busy. So I hate to inform you that you need to stop sending me letters for now. I’m not supposed to be getting any and my parents are going to start confiscating them if I receive any more. I’m sorry. I can’t wait to see you in the fall. R.A.B

━━━༻✩༺━━━

I’m visiting Tuney with my parents in a few days. She moved to London for a clerical job in March and we’re meeting her boyfriend, Vernon! He sounds nice but she’s told me she’s nervous about me and magic around him. Lily

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Petals! I’m sure you’ll be fine! Who couldn't love you? Write back and tell me what happens!

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Whiskers, I’m with my parents up in Wales in their cottage. I was born there before having to move for my Dad’s work. Also, I think I have to get a rabbit. James always told people that I got my scars from a poorly behaved rabbit and if I’m not seen with one soon, people will start to question. Remus

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Does this mean I get to call you Moony now? Professor Moony? Wales? And that’s where that small accent comes from. It bleeds through when you’re concentrating or relaxing. And a rabbit? At least they’re cute! I’m sure you can just Transfigure a book though. Y/N

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Professor Moony? Haha, okay! And really? I never knew. I’m kind of embarrassed now. I’ve thought about that but at this point, I think it would be easier just to have one.

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Oh no! It’s nice! Gives you personality. I think it suits you well How about… Moody Moony near full moons? And Moody Moony Mondays on Mondays.

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Now you’ve gone too far. Bloody fucking Moody Moony? Have you ever heard of Mad-Eye Moody?

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Would you prefer 'my Moony' then?

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Yes, actually.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

August 6th, 1976

“Hurry up!”

She thudded down from the top of the staircase, dragging her trunk behind while her mother sped out of the terminal door, flagging down one of the zipping yellow taxis with her luggage in hand.

It was strange, being with her mother again after almost a year apart. She hadn’t come to King’s Cross again, instead sending her a bus fare in anticipation of school ending. She hoped for some sort of recognition, any kind of sign that she was missed but was only given a side-armed hug and delved back into work.

Y/N wondered if maybe she just didn’t want her there, hoping she would get lost and never come back. She only had been on a bus in London twice, therefore almost ensuring that she would get lost and would have stayed lost if she didn’t have extra spare change to use a payphone.

Ignoring the crackle of whispers as she strode to the cab, people blatantly stared at her unnatural coloured hair, as she entered the car, slamming the door shut.

“Where ya ladies off too?” Said the driver, pulling out a map from their car door.

“Cranberry Street, Brooklyn Heights.”

It was a quiet drive, aside from the driver drumming their fingers on the steering wheel at the sound of the Bee Gees blasting in the background. She watched other cabs whipping back and forth, people going on with their days, the dirty streets and building under construction.

“Hey, mom?” She asked, reasoning now was a good time to talk about her OWL results. She’d gotten them mere seconds before leaving their house back in London and she’d been putting off looking at the results until now.

She only grunted, flicking through one of her medical journals, jotting down notes. “I don’t have time right now.”

Y/N sighed, that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach expanded again. “It’s kind of important.”

“Not now.” She waved her hand and ended the conversation.

Thirty minutes later, the cab came to a stop as they grabbed their luggage and strolled up to the brownstone building they were renting for the month.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

Jet lag got to her as she unwinded lounged until finally getting up from bed that morning as her mom rushed around the house. She frantically was putting on shoes, dressed impeccably sharp, no doubt in hopes to make an impression as her eyes flew across her journal. Her feet were scrambling to the door as she flung her bag over her shoulder.

“Have a good d —” And then the door slammed shut.

She stared blankly at the door for a while and then turned around, getting ready for her day. A daint drum of excitement yet nervousness built up, pushing aside that sinking feeling. Today she was going to see Matthew again.

Having a few hours to spare, Y/N walked around, marvelling at the tall buildings and lights before heading into the heart of Time Square, immediately spotting the bench outside the bagel shop. She sat, waiting for him anxiously. She made sure to wear a hat, covering any sight of hair to avoid weird stares and chatter.

But then a few minutes turned into ten and then twenty minutes later.

Slipping out the letter again to make sure, she re-read it. Time Square, at one, today… near the bagel shop…

“Where y’at?”

Her head lifted as she jumped to her feet and pulled each other into a tight hug.

“Matthew!”

His face nuzzled into the side of her neck, arms wrapped around tight as her face pressed gently into his chest. Eventually, she pulled away - arms outstretched to get a good look.

Matthew Gaplin looked different. His hair, coarse and thick, had grown. He was taller, filled out more, tan skin became even tanner from the beating sun and he filled out.

His smile was large. “S’been so long.”

She gave him a small whack!

“Ow!” He jumped back, “What’s wrong wiv ya?”

“I thought you stood me up.”

“Sorry, doing something for Mom. Had to wait on line forever.”

He looked down bashfully, now staring at the hat. His face made a disgusted look. “It’s disgusting out. Why are you wearing —” Curiously lifting the hat, his lids widened astronomically as Y/N grabbed it, covering her wild hair.

“I told you,” she hissed.

“Right the Potter sport!” He gave a full-body laugh. “Oh come on, I wanna see it again!”

But her hand clamped down on that hat to prevent him from pulling it off. “No! The Muggles keep judging —“

“Muggles?” Matthew’s brows furrowed. “The fuck is a Muggle? Sounds… demeaning.”

“Sorry, it’s what they call No-Majs.”

“Ahh,” and then he moved to loop an arm around her shoulders and continued to walk. “Too good to use ol’American terms?”

“Turned British snob.”

They laughed loudly as he took charge, showing her around the city. There was something so calming amid the chaos of New York. The bustle, low chatter and his enthusiasm made it all the better.

Soon enough, after hours of walking around, they both came to a stop in a large park as they grew hungry. Matthew disappeared for a while, leaving her alone to lay down on the soft grass before returning, holding up a brown bag with two drinks.

“Got us bagels wiv schmear.”

She mumbled out a thanks and took it from him as he sat down on the grass beside her.

“Missed ya, really.”

She shoved him playfully, his head dropping bashfully. “Shut up.”

It stayed quiet for a bit, as they listened to the birds chirping until he broke the silence again. “Ya thinkin’ ‘bout moving back eventually, right?”

“Why?”

Matthew gave her a haughty look, contemplating his words carefully. “Do ya… not know? They’re losing the war.”

Momentary terror gripped her heart but she swallowed it down fast. “Matthew,” her voice dropped, “Please, I want a fun summer… can we not talk about the war? I have more than enough time to worry later."

He wanted to keep talking, worried for his good friend but he refrained, biting down on his lip and nodded stiffly.

“So…” he thought to himself, contemplating how to change the direction of their conversation and fast. “Fess up, what’s been goin’ on over there.”

“Huh?”

“You’re telling me you haven't — what is it called? Kissing?”

“Snogging?”

He smiled. “You’re telling me you haven’t snogged anyone of those rich Old-Majs yet?”

“Nope!” She spoke too quickly and voice was a little too high.

“Liar. Ya going tell me who then?” Y/N looked down, hand going to fiddle with the fem of her clothes while Matthew shook her. “Come on! Tell me!”

“Fine! His name is Sirius Black.”

Matthew's eyes widened in recognition as he sat upright. “You don’t mean the Black family? Gawd! No way!”

“What?”

“And ya don’t even know!” Matthew was full of amusement. “They’re one of the oldest wizarding families out there! Are you still wiv him?”

Y/N stopped, trying to conceal a chuckle. She didn’t have it in her to lie anymore. “No! He almost got me killed.”

“Ha. Ha, very clever. Fine, don’t tell me.”

“You? Anything exciting?”

Matthew snorted. “Fought over a fin if that counts as exciting.”

“You know that’s not what I'm talking about,” she teased.

He abruptly became very serious and it had Y/N sitting up straighter. Matthew breathed in, this time not looking at her but instead at his metal pop can. “I’ve… had a tumble wiv a few... didn’t matter their… genders.”

It took a second for his words to click in but when it did, her mouth fell open and saw his face fall as she pulled him into a tight hug. “I don’t care who you cop, just be safe and have fun.”

He mumbled into her shoulder. “Been rehearsing that since I knew you were visitin’.”

“Love ya, could never judge you.” He tried to look insulted from the babying but prickled with tears before wiping them away quickly.

“Bless ya!”

“You alright though?”

“Now that I know your reaction, never betta. Now, you talk, enough ‘bout me.”

After making sure he was okay, Y/N prattled about Hogwarts. Matthew would pop in a few times, asking her to clarify or ask what words the British used — he often called her his ‘British insight.’ She rambled much about her day, her new friends but made sure to leave out a few details. Matthew became peculiarly silent through most of her speech. It wasn’t like him to not try to speak up, but he looked at her with something she’d only seen a few times prior.

Matthew stared at her for a long time, analyzing with underlying adoration. “What did them Brits do to ya?”

She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Ya sound different.” He says calmly, going to sip on his pop. “Talk funny.”

“Tawk funny,” she mocked and earned a shove. “Different? How so?”

“Everything ‘bout you seems different. Y’look happier,” he smiles, although there was a twinge of hurt. “Talk softer, look different — move differently and ya voice sounds different… but the same.”

She takes a bit of her food. “I hope that isn’t a bad thing.”

Matthew smiles gently, sheepish but there. “Not at all.”

She smiled back. Matthew always knew how to make her smile and it felt good, normal.

“Happy looks good on ya.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

She finally sat down, tired from the long day she spent wandering the city. But it wasn’t long until a tapping sound came from the window. Celeste was there, waiting with a letter in her beak. She walked up to her, letting her fly inside and opened the letter.

Got my OWL results. Outstanding in Astronomy, DADA, Charms, Transfigs. Exceeds Expectations in everything else but an Acceptable in Potions. Moony

She re-read that last part. Remus getting Acceptable in Potions? Her attention travelled to the stark white envelope peeking out from the side pocket of her carry-on. She marched up to it, ripping it open and scanned the paper.

Outstanding in Transfiguration, Potions and Herbology, Arithmancy. Exceeds Expectations in everything else except Poor in History of Magic. She cringed at that.

She immediately got up from her seat. Rushing over to the master bedroom, peeking her head in. “Mom?” She said quietly, “Can I talk to you.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was busy?” Her voice cut through. “It’s not the time to be a nuisance.”

A scorching feeling of anger thrummed through her but kept her voice low and steady. “That was a few days ago.”

"My answer didn't change."

Any semblance of calm vanished. “It’s about my OWLs. My future. I need some sort of guidance.”

“I wouldn’t understand them,” she sighed and peered up. There was an odd expression, borderlining on confusion and something else. “It’s not the same. I’m not a… witch like you are. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I’ll make it into No-Maj terms?” Y/N’s voice was tight and came rushing over to where she sat on the couch. And laid out her examination results. “Look, an O is the same as getting an A! It’s the highest grade you can get. And here,” she pointed, “My teacher, Professor Slughorn, invites me to parties because of my work in Potions class. I’m one of his top students.”

She glanced at her mom excitedly but was met with a look of annoyance and slight judgement. But she continued, “A-and in Herbology I'm doing excellent too! I was becoming interested in becoming a Healer. I told you in my letters. It’s similar to being —”

“I’m sorry,” her mother said but it didn’t have any trace of guilt or sorrow, “I’m busy and you’re getting in the way of work — my achievements — that you know are important.”

“Are mine not important?”

A thick, profound silence filled the space between them. Everything about the connotation had her averting her body, feeling the sinking in her chest explode. From the war, traumatic near death experience and her mother's constant aloof nature, it was her cracking point.

Snatching the OWLs results, she walked out the door, shutting it gently before diving into her room; throwing the covers over her head.

All the New-Maj and No-Maj children were told stories of the Boogeyman. To Y/N, it felt comparable to reverting to a small child as she tucked herself into a tight ball. She recalled watching all the other children running up their parents, being roped with large hugs and smiles, surrounded with infinite quantities of love as they left the school playground. She remembered being envious, wanting to have two parents as the images of the Boogeyman drew near.

There was an overwhelming sense to scream — to cry out for guidance as the knot in her stomach grew. Instead of her mother coming to her rescue — to reassure, to give any sense of security or safety while other parents would scare off the Boogeyman or monsters ready to nip at their children’s toes under the bed, Y/N was left in the dark as all sense of relief or love vanished. It left her vulnerable, exposed to the monsters lurking in the dark.

Her mother may have not been physically absent but it sure felt like it.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary:

Fin = $5 / five dollar bill Bagels with schmear = bagels with cream cheese Wait on line = the same as 'Wait in line' Pop = Canadian slang for soda / soft drinks Sport / old sport = (depending on the context) a term of endearment similar to buddy, pal, friend

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

[crowdedimagines]

just across the hall - harry styles

y/fm = your favorite musical artist 3k of fluff 🥰

The first time he saw her was the day she moved in. He knew that the younger couple that had previously been across from him moved out, but hadn’t heard anything about someone else moving in. She was avoiding the elevator for some reason, lugging her boxes all the way up the several stairs. Letting out a huff as she got to the top.

“Can I ask you something?” Harry’s voice rings out as he grabs the keys from his pocket, “Why take the stairs?”

She looks up from the box she was kicking across the floor with her foot. Sweat beading across her forehead from all of the obvious work she’s doing and the multiple trips up and down the stairs.

“The elevator is broken.”

Harry looks over his shoulder at the elevator he’s just stepped off, it dings as the doors shut.

“Fuck.” She whispers to herself, completely shocked to see it running.

He tries but can’t fight off a laugh at the unfortunate situation.

“Some lady told me the elevator was broken and I need to take the stairs.”

“Let me guess,” Harry pauses to lean against his door frame, “Older lady, small dog?”

“Yeah!” She nods frantically, pushing back the stray strands of hair off her forehead.

“She’s a hag.” He barks a laugh, “She lies constantly.”

“Oh my god.” The stranger rolls her eyes. “That’s unbelievable. I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow! Do you realize what floor we’re on! I’ve been lugging stuff up and down those stairs all day. My legs feel like jelly.”

She leans against her door and lets out a loud sigh.

“I knew New York might be mean, but I wasn’t expecting my neighbors to be so rude.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

“We’re not all so bad.” Harry smiles, letting his dimples grace his face.

“No, instead I’ve got a celebrity across the hall! I don’t want to have to look cute every time I grab an amazon box from my doorstep.”

Harry lets out yet another laugh. He finds it easy to laugh at her comments. It’s refreshing to come across someone who knows him, but is relaxed around him.

“I promise, I don’t judge.” He holds up my hands in defense, “As long as when I do the same you don’t always expect a rockstar to be answering the door.”

“I think I can agree to that.” She smiles finally.

After that, Harry and Y/n don’t see each other that often right away. Harry was away traveling, going home to London for a long visit. She was surprised to notice the other half of her floor was so quiet. Y/n gets settled in the new city with a new job, finding her groove a little better and fully unpacking all of her belongings.

“He’s alive!” Y/n laughs as she sees Harry for the first time in weeks. The first time since they met actually.

“Yeah, I just got back from home actually.”

“Well that’s good, I was afraid I’d scared ya off.”

“Are you still taking the stairs?” Harry asks, noticing they’re both going into their apartments, but didn’t share the elevator together.

“Not always, but I’ve discovered I feel substantially less guilty about grabbing a churro on my way home if I take the stairs.”

“Got it.” Harry nods in understanding with a chuckle.

“Can I ask you another question?” Harry asks, stepping out of his apartment a little.

“Only if I can ask one in return.” She smirks and Harry nods.

“What’s your name?” His cheeks take on a pink hue. He hates that he doesn’t know it, but they never formally introduced themselves when they met. One of the issues being a celebrity, sometimes when people know you they forget that part.

“Y/n.” She smiles.

“Y/n.” Harry repeats back to himself and she nods, “Alright your turn.”

“Why do you live here?”

“What do you mean?” He chuckles.

“Like why this building? You could probably live anywhere in the city, why a building that you still share a floor with someone?”

“These are still nice apartments!” Harry defends with a laugh, Y/n rolls her eyes knowing that he knows that’s not what she meant.

“It’s just me. I used to have a penthouse, but it felt a bit empty if I’m being honest. Here I can still have my privacy, we’ve got nice apartments and a doorman. Plus I don’t spend all my time here in the city. When I’m not touring I’m in L.A and London too. Plus there’s a studio I really like not too far from here.”

“Ohh, that makes sense.” Y/n nods. “Well if you ever feel a little too lonely I’m only across the hall.”

“Thank you.” Harry looks up, genuinely appreciating the offer.

Wordlessly they both smile and wave and go into their apartments respectively. After that they run into each other more often, occasionally sharing the elevator in the morning. Harry on his way to the studio, Y/n on her way to work. They find out random little bits of information about each other.

Harry has also discovered the wall to her bathroom lines up with his bedroom, he’s sure of it. The late night showers, where she spends way too long in there, are filled with singing. Loudly and beautifully she sings whatever comes to her mind, or whatever she heard last before getting in.

The first time he heard it, it kept him up, trying to place the voice until it dawned on him that it had to be Y/n. The voice was enchanting, he could almost feel the buzz through the wall. It made him feel warm and undeniably less lonely.

The second time he stayed up just as late, waiting for Y/n to get home so he could hear her sing. He thought that he was crazy, just jet lagged the first night and his mind was playing tricks on him, but she turned on her water and he felt just as euphoric as the first night. He couldn’t help but wonder if people felt this way while listening to him sing.

He grew to appreciate her voice and the way she would laugh at herself when her voice would crack, or she couldn’t remember the words. That was Harry’s favorite. He loved when she didn’t know the words, because she always knew the notes and that's when she would make things up.

No matter how she crafted her voice, Harry found himself more and more attached to it. It took a few weeks and short conversations getting to know each other for him to be able to bring it up.

“So, you like y/fm?” Harry asks the next day in the elevator, taking a risk.

“Uhh, yeah, I love them. How’d you know?” She picks up her head to look in his direction.

“Ohh, I just heard ya singing them.”

“You what?” Y/n turns fully to look at him, her mouthing hanging open.

“Uhh-” Harry clears his throat, realizing how bad this could come off, “Our rooms are right next to each other, I share a wall with your bathroom.”

It grows completely silent in the elevator, Y/n in complete shock.

“Oh my god.” She mutters, shaking her head.

“It’s not a big deal.” Harry shrugs.

“It’s not a big deal?” She yells a little louder. Not mad, just shocked, “I just found out that Harry Styles has been listening to me singing in the shower!”

“It’s fine-” He laughs.

“I’ll just never shower again-”

“Now stop it, you’re just being dramatic.” Harry nudges her shoulder.

“I’ll just have to play music to drown everything out.”

“No, don’t stop. It sounds nice.” Harry compliments, halting her rambling of ways to avoid him ever hearing her sing again.

“You think so?” She peeks to look up at him.

“I do.”

It takes Y/n a few days to gain the courage to sing in the shower again. Knowing that she basically has an audience now. She debates what to sing, how to follow up everything else, and sing something new. She knows she’s overthinking it as she paces her room waiting to get in the shower. It takes her a few minutes before she’s certain she’s had a good idea.

Falling.

A beautiful ballad, a song that Y/n has admired since before she met Harry all those weeks ago. A performance for him, written by him. She even likes that it might feed his narcissistic side a little.

Harry can hear the water turn on, and he sets down his book. It was a few days ago that she found out about him listening to her, and she hasn’t sung since. He honestly doesn’t know if she’ll sing, but after a few seconds he can pick up on her voice. It’s soft at first, but it builds.

Falling.

She’s chosen to sing his own words. She choses different harmonies as she goes, and sings it in a way that never even crossed Harry’s mind. She’s skilled enough to make it sound enchanting in her own way. He’s fully immersed in her voice, and he can’t seem to pull himself out. He doesn’t want to.

The song ends and the water turns off and Harry feels disappointed. He wants to continue. He wished he had made the song longer just so he could hear a few more seconds of her voice.

The next morning Harry notices Y/n walking out her door and leaving for work. Harry quickly opens the door and slips in between the elevator doors before they close.

“Why are you wearing pajamas?” Y/n asks with a laugh, taking in his shorts and tee shirt and obvious bed head. He doesn’t look like his usual put together self.

“I’m not going into the studio today, but I wanted to catch the lift with ya.” He smirks, looking her over.

“Hmm, how sweet of you. What’re you up to?” She bites back a smirk of her own. It was fun singing his own song last night, and obviously it caused some sort of reaction.

“I need to record your voice.” Harry blurts.

“Excuse me?” Y/n coughs.

“After last night I couldn’t fall asleep last night, so I was up writing new melodies and I wrote a song.”

“You wrote a song.” Y/n states.

Harry holds up a hand with a fistfull of papers, his other hand holding a mug of tea.

“I want you to record a song with me.” His eyes unwavering, staring and hoping just maybe she’ll say yes.

“You're crazy!” Y/n laughs, shaking her head. Assuming this is some joke, there’s no way he could be serious right now.

“Y/n trust me, just sing it and you will understand-” Harry’s cut off when the hum to the elevator stops. The sensation of them dropping stops too. They’re completely still, but the doors aren’t opening.

“What just happened?” Y/n side steps around Harry to press buttons and try to see what’s going on.

“Oh my god, I think we’re stuck!” She states, noticing how they aren’t moving and the lights have switched to the emergency ones. The whole elevator darkens.

Harry reaches around her, as if he could fix it by pressing the same buttons she did. Eventually they get connected to the emergency line where they’re informed that there's a mechanical issue and they can’t get them out until they fix it. It’s going to be a while.

“Well, I hope you aren’t claustrophobic.” Y/n slides down the wall to sit down. Sending a simple text to her boss that she was going to be late, if there at all.

“Nope.” Harry says, popping the ‘p’ as he slides down to sit next to her.

They both sit, ankles crossed, facing the door in silence for a minute or two. Not really sure that the severity of the situation has sunk in.

“So, assuming we get out of here, can I get you in the studio?” Harry asks, an all to gleeful smile on his face.

“Harry, I don’t sing.”

“Well I beg to differ-”

“You know what I mean.” She interrupts.

“What’s stopping you?” Harry asks, genuinely curious. He’s never collaborated with anyone during his solo career, and he wasn’t planning to, but something about this seemed like a perfect fit. Harry couldn’t explain it.

“How do I go back to a normal job after that? After singing a song with Harry Styles and then what? Just go back to work?”

“Who knows. Maybe sign with Columbia and become your very own rockstar.”

“Shut up.” Y/n nudges his side.

“It’s only one song, I promise you don’t have to commit to anything else.” He pleads. “If you change your mind, we’ll go from there.”

Some more time passes and Y/n thinks. It’s hard to tell how long they’ve been in there. It feels like it’s been a while. It’s already been an hour since she texted her boss. Harry doesn’t even have his phone, he wasn’t planning on leaving the elevator and didn’t even think about grabbing it this morning.

“Maybe that old lady isn’t a liar, maybe she’s psychic. She knew this elevator would break.” Y/n says after a few minutes of silence. It dawned on her that that’s how Harry and her first talked all those weeks ago. Her climbing up the damn stairs for the hundredth time that day.

“Too bad she didn’t tell when it would happen. I would’ve chased ya down the stairs instead. We could’ve avoided this whole thing.”

They both let out a laugh.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t sweltering in here.” Y/n groans.

“See, these pajamas aren’t looking too bad right about now, huh?” Harry teases with a proud grin.

“You do realize when they get us out of here, there’s going to be dozens of people. If anyone caught wind of you, probably the news too. But, keep on enjoying your pjs.” Y/n laughs, teasing right back.

Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t like how you weren’t afraid to sass him. You didn’t make anything easy for him, which was different.

Without saying anything Y/n reaches for the papers Harry set down. Reading over the lines, seeing we’re he’s added little scribbles.

“Can you read music?” His voice filled the void. He wasn’t sure if she was just looking over the lyrics of if she could read the music notes too.

“Yeah, I was in choir.” She says, still skimming over everything. For coming up with it in one night by himself, she’s impressed. Not that she would expect anything less from Harry Styles.

“Alright lets give this a go.” She sits up. She’s had a change of heart, based on how beautiful she can tell the song is, and how bored she’s growing. They haven’t run out of conversation, but she needs a change of pace, which is hard to get in a stuck elevator.

“Really?” Harry doesn’t bother hiding how giddy he is, sitting up excitedly too.

“Might as well, we’ve got nothing else to do.”

Harry explains it a little bit better, and what exactly he was thinking in his head for it. They hit a few bumps, but fix things as they go until they have things worked out as best as they can. At least as best they can from inside a dimly lit elevator. Y/n adds notes of her own and plays off his voice with her own, knowing her own voice better than his. After a few tries they find a beautiful mix.

Y/n can’t even ignore how well their voices blend together. Even acapella sounds beautiful, they both look up at each other, realizing just how oddly magical it sounds. They finish the song and neither can speak. They both are struggling to come up with words to explain their thoughts.

A few different times they open their mouths to say something, but stop themselves. Y/n turns to look at him and he’s closer than she remembers. They had to sit close to share the paper, but now it’s like they’re breathing the same air.

Her lips part slightly and Harry’s eyes fail to refrain from dropping down to them. Y/n notices this a bites on the bottom slightly, pulling it in. Harry swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. The tension is building, but neither can decide if they should make a move.

Finally, Harry grins and slowly leans down to connect their lips. Y/n’s hands instantly find his curls pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. She pulls him back down on top of her, neither one of them is going to let this end soon. Both of them had been secretly waiting for this moment since they first met. Harry’s thumb lightly brushing against her cheekbone as they continue their heavy makeout.  

They forget that they’re stuck in an elevator and not in their own world where music is a language only the two of them speak.

The sound of metal creaking and light being thrust upon them makes them finally pull apart. The crew workers give them hands to help them out. Harry lets Y/n out first. There’s a paramedic waiting for them, claiming it’s standard procedure after anyone’s stuck in an elevator. After they both get cleared to go, Harry walks Y/n to a cab.

“I’m off Monday.” Y/n smiles, texting her boss that she will be coming in soon. Harry pulls open the door to the car for her.

“Monday in the studio?” Harry smirks and she nods.

“I’ll be there.” She smiles as she gets in and he shuts the door.

“You better be there, I know where you live.” Harry teases, pressing one more peck to her lips through the open window.

~

too cute lol!! part two??

[sunflowersseemhappy]

hi!! so glad your requests are open again- can I get modern main six picking mc up from the airport after a long and tiring trip? ty 💖

Hi to you too anon, I’m glad my requests are back open too! I hope you like, I quite enjoyed this little scenario and I’ve got requests for a Modern AU so more of this is coming!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN and here is my Masterlist!

Asra

Always on time, Asra says it’s because he has ���magic powers’.

In reality he just has the app that tells him when your planes land.

Likes to sneak up on you outside the gates, but his white as always hair  generally makes him stand out.

If he’s able to he’ll grab your bags before you’re through the gate and you find him sitting on the large suitcase with that fox-like smirk after he texts “Behind you! 😜” to your phone.

Standing up and opening his arms as you slouch into them and give him a tired kiss as he lifts you up so your toes are off the floor.

He usually pulls your chin up to give you another lingering kiss on your lips before picking up your bags.

He updates you on any news on the way to his car, opening the door for you and then lugging the bags into the trunk.

When he’s sitting in the car too Asra will lean over and give you another lingering kiss as he pops the glove compartment open.

Handing you your favourite snack and drink as well as popping in your favourite music CD or radio station.

On the car ride home Asra is either rubbing your knee or holding your hand at every possible second, talking about the new recipe he found for pumpkin bread and how Faust managed to escape her tank again.

His smooth chatter lulls you to sleep every time, that, and the jet lag.

Now that he expects it Asra has a nice warm pile of blankets and pillows to snuggle up in every time, cradling you in his arms as he lies back and enjoys the sound of your soft snores.

He doesn’t mean to but he usually falls asleep too, often times he finds the escaped Faust nestled up on his chest when the two of you wake.

You find it pretty funny how friendly that little snake is toward Asra, and how much she likes cuddles, but you can’t really complain.

Asra’s cuddles are the best.

Nadia

Usually on time, although her day job sometimes makes her a bit late.

She’ll text you all the same to tell you when she’s on her way or there.

Nadia usually waits by the exits to the airport for two reasons:

a) its hard to find her way in crowds (especially given she’s been on a few magazine covers) and...

b) she wouldn’t get to hold up the sign near the taxi drivers that says “love of my life” for you to find her (you get a few stares and giggles but it is pretty cute).

As you go up to her Nadia will loop her arm around yours and help you carry the bags with a vivid smile, asking how the journey went, etc...

Once the two of you have packed up the car Nadia will loop her arms around your neck and give you a long smooch on the cheek, giggling at the mark her lipstick leaves.

Rubbing it off with her thumb she’ll beckon you to get in the car and depending on what you want to do or what time it is Nadia will ask you if you want to go get a massage, or go to a restaurant.

Most of the time you shrug, wherever Nadia is you’ll be happy, although you really fancy some of your favourite take out food (think KFC/McDonalds/Chinese).

But whatever you want Nadia obliges with a wink and a kiss as you rumble down the roads in her car.

Afterwards when you’re yawning so wide Nadia jokes you could swallow an orange whole she takes you home where the two of you chat over your take out and joke over strange happenings.

Outside the owl Nadia has named Chandra watches your shadows by the window.

Then the two of you watch a movie, it doesn’t take long until you are asleep, snoozing against Naida’s chest as she fiddles with your hair and thinks about the meeting she has in the next hour.

She can cancel, this moment with you is much more important.

Julian

Julian is always late, every single time, but not overly so.

He’s never been more than an hour late, but night shifts are tough on him so you don’t really mind.

Its a good time to grab some coffee and sort out any missed calls on the flight whilst waiting for him. Free Wi-Fi is a god-send in airports.

Just as you’re about to check up with Julian on the phone, a tall lanky man, all too familiar pulls out a chair and slumps across the table.

Taking a final sip of your coffee you’d laugh if Julian didn’t look so upset about being late once again.

You just ruffle his hair sympathetically and nod in understanding as he grumbles into the table, dipping your own chin to rest it on the table.

You give him a quick fleeting kiss on the corner of his mouth when he looks up at your silence, face instantly going crimson as you place your hands either side of his face and nod to get out of the airport.

As the ‘gentleman’ he is Julian insists on carrying all your bags, it’s like a game of Tetris (that he’s loosing) as you watch him fumble disastrously with the keys, the truck and the bags.

When he sets aside the suitcase to open the door for you it starts loudly clattering away across the uneven ground and he has to race to save it from getting smashed under another car.

Once the two of you are finally in the car, Julian breathless from running and you breathless from holding back laughter the two of you give each other smiles and snigger between yourselves.

Julian offers you some of his cold coffee on the way back home, which you manage to decline. Thankfully your warm coffee is working just fine.

So much so that when you get back to your little apartment the two of you spend all night in the kitchen, talking, drinking and cooking some successful and not so successful dishes (thankfully the neighbourhood raven Julian has affectionately named Malak is more than happy for the scraps).

Somehow you’re both drunk enough to dance and twirl each other around, lazily kissing until you collapse to the floor leaning against Julian’s shoulder from the exhaustion in your feet.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Muriel

Muriel is usually early to the airport, he likes to make sure he can avoid traffic and have Inanna (a wolf dog mix) buckled up to come along. Inanna loves car rides.

And to your memory he has never been late once.

Given his dislike for crowds you usually find him perched on a bench outside the exit scanning the crowd for you and once he sees you his face brightens, then goes red when he realises he made such a face.

Inanna is instantly jumping at your heels as she runs to greet you, almost knocking you off balance as she does so, Muriel is up on his feet steadying you before you know it.

“Inanna missed you... and so did I.”

Your hand slipping into his Muriel leans down so that he can plant a kiss to the top of your head, cheekily you reach around his neck and hug him placing your lips against his with a small smirk.

He turns brighter red, beginning to lead you off to his car, carrying all your bags in one hand and leading along the suitcase in the other.

Once they’re in the trunk you bump into Muriel affectionately, his own smirk plays on his lips as he helps you up into the cab of his pickup, as soon as you’re seated Inanna is trying to lick your face.

As Muriel pushes Inanna off you he offers you some of your favourite seasoned bread and some boiled eggs to snack on as he drives the three of you home.

By the time you’re back home it’s raining and you racing Muriel into the house, you’re pretty sure he let you win but even so the both of you are soaked to the bone.

You spend the evening in your small bathroom, dancing around each other to reach things, somehow the two of you both fit in the tub together and wash each other’s hair.

Leaning back on Muriel in the warm soapy water is enough to make you doze as he combs your hair through his fingers.

Muriel makes you a nice warm meal just before you fall asleep properly in his arms with Inanna laying across the two of you.

You’re home.

Portia

Like her brother Portia is always famously late.

Usually because of her various hobbies and huge workload.

Retreating from the hustle and bustle of the airport you find a nice spot to chill out and flick through your phone, thankfully Portia sent you a text saying she’d be late but was on her way.

Just as you’re finishing a soda, a small Portia-shaped creature tackles you with a squeal of joy, bowling you over into the grass. Jubilantly yelling “you’re back! You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!”

It definitely creates a scene but you don’t much care about that as you hug Portia back, your face burying into her curls.

When you pull back Portia is reeling off all kinds of questions, barely taking a breath in between and not really waiting for your answers, with a roll of your eyes you give Portia a smooch to shut her up.

That triggers her to kiss you a bunch of times all over your face, until you yell for mercy.

The only one of the six who doesn’t drive Portia is glued to you as you ride the buses back home, as if she’s afraid you’ll leave again.

To make up for being late she’s brought you your favourite Starbucks/Costa drink and the two of you sip on them until you finally get home.

Pepi comes to greet you (in a little sweater?) with much meowing and by winding herself through your legs, it takes a lot of bribing with tuna for the cat to leave you be for the evening.

The two of you order in a pizza or two as Portia goes over her new hobby of making cat clothes with Pepi as the model, the cat gives you a miffed look that makes you laugh during the talk.

It takes hours for Portia to tell you what’s been going on and all the latest gossip, so much so that when she finally runs out of things to say you’re fast asleep with a placid smile on your lips.

Portia has god to admit, you’re pretty cute when you’re asleep.

Lucio

On time or late, but never early.

Lucio’s been counting down the seconds till he sees you again, but usually that leads to him getting bored and falling asleep.

That particular day Lucio is on time and it is not hard to miss him...

When he pulls up in his shiny new car (the second in a month) honking his custom horn and yelling your name from the window enthusiastically.

You let out a curt chuckle as he pulls up in the pick up bay and jumps out of his car, hair slicked back and ray-bans on his nose, not at all aware that his car is rolling forwards.

“Um...Lucio!”

“I know, I know, you missed me so much-” His arm comes to circle around your shoulders as he gives you a winning smile. You sigh wearily as the two of you hear a crunch.

“The handbrake is off again.”

Lucio is pouting in the cab of the recovery truck as it tows his car back home you can only comfort him about the loss of his new car.

But he surprises you when he explains that he was going to treat you to dinner at your absolutely favourite restaurant and that’s why he’s upset.

It’s so sweet that you cup his face and plant a kiss to the corner of his mouth, tousling his hair with your hand as you pluck his sunglasses off his face and sit them on your own nose.

Scoffing Lucio moves in to give you a much fiercer kiss, the recovery man clears his throat and you put a finger to Lucio’s lips to make him wait.

When you finally get dropped off and Lucio’s car is taken to the mechanic, you shrug when you get up to the apartment as Mercedes and Melinchor leap at your knees.

You manage to scavenge some microwave popcorn and a dusty wine bottle from the back of the cupboards (Lucio eats out a lot when you’re gone), and the two of you spend the evening watching terrible rom-coms.

Lucio kissing the back of your neck as you lie up against his chest, dozing off from his feather-light kisses.

Lucio only notice’s when you start to snore but despite the disaster of the day so long as you’re around not much can put him down.

Well except when he got a call saying his car was a write off.

[halsteadshailey]

So you are seeing someone?

upstead fluff/angst one shot

Hailey meets someone while working with the FBI in New York but when she comes home to her partner, her best friend, how long will that relationship last?

can also be read on wattpad or ao3

——

set at the beginning of s8 after hailey gets back from ny (i’m going with hailey being in new york for 4 weeks bcos i’m not sure if they ever told us how long she was supposed to be there but i know tracy she was supposed to be in more fbi eps but cldnt bcos of corona , sorry if this is wrong)

*slight language*

——

For the first couple of weeks that Hailey had been out in New York to work with the FBI, her and Jay had FaceTimed religiously. In the morning on the way to work, whenever they could both catch a break at the same time, and on their drives home, most importantly though, once they were both home and settled. It was as close to ‘their thing’ they could get after a long day of work while separated by hundreds of miles.

After about 14 days, Jay was starting to notice something different about Hailey, they were calling less, even her texting game was off. She was starting to be busy more frequently in the evenings and her texts had become rare, short and sweet.

On the Wednesday evening of her third week away, Jay decided to bring it up while they were on FaceTime.

“Hey what’s been going on over there?” he questioned “I feel like we haven’t talked in ages”

Hailey’s brows furrowed a little as she struggled to think of what to say, anything to say to avoid Jay finding out about Liam, she wasn’t ready to tell him and definitely not over the phone when she wasn’t even sure how serious things were.

“Yeah, sorry about that, we’ve had lots of tough cases, I’ve been working late” she said.

Her partner knew she wasn’t telling the truth, he could always tell. However, he didn’t want to push, it wasn’t worth it after the long day that he’d had and he knew that Hailey would tell him whatever it was when she wanted to so he settled on saying:

“Don’t work yourself too hard” with a chuckle.

The two spoke for a little bit longer after that, Jay telling Hailey about all the weird things Kev and Adam have been up to and Hailey realising how much she misses her Intelligence family, not that she would ever tell Jay that.

A few days passed and all the interaction that the detectives had had with one another was through text, but when Saturday came around Jay needed to change that.

It was around 10:30pm when he shot her a text:

‘Hey, I know it’s late but I just got home from a tough case and was wondering if you’re free to call?’

Luckily for him, Hailey replied to Jay’s text only a few minutes later by calling him.

“Hey how are you?” she said when she saw that her partner had connected to the call.

“I’m ok, just needed to do our thing i guess” the emphasis Jay put on the ‘our thing’ was slight, but it was there. “How are y-“ he paused.

“What?”

“You’re wearing make-up, you never wear make-up, am I interrupting something? A date?” Jay teased.

Without thinking, Hailey replied with “As a matter of fact, you texted me just before dessert so it was actually perfect timing”

Jay froze, trying to process that words that he just heard. It’s not like he thought that Hailey wasn’t allowed to go on dates, he didn’t own her. But he was jealous, a lot more jealous that he would care to admit. Deep down he knew that it was his fault, he’d had feelings for Hailey for a long time and didn’t do anything about it because ‘nothing good comes out of a workplace romance’ or whatever bullshit he had told himself.

“Was it not going well? If you wanted to get out of there before dessert I mean” he clarified.

“No, no, it was going great. I just meant it made an ok place to stop so I could check on you” she responded.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have left, if I had known I wouldn’t have texted” Jay said, in an attempt to clear the air. Their conversation had become quite stale and neither of them were willing to accept that it was just awkward.

“Jay, stop” Hailey said, causing her partner to crack a small smile. “If you need to talk to me after a bad case, that’s the only place I want to be. I’m always here for you, even when we’re this far away” the last part was delivered with a bit of scorn.

“Thanks Hailey, and you too” he said, lifting a little bit of weight off both of their shoulders as they began to flow back into normal conversation.

Another week had passed and Hailey had told Jay a little more about Liam, but only if it came up in conversation so currently all he knew was his name and his job and what his coffee order is (he’d heard Hailey getting it for him while they were on FaceTime). She quickly realised that Jay didn’t enjoy listening to her talk about him so she tried to keep it lowkey.

During her last few days in New York, Hailey and Liam came to the mutual decision that they wouldn’t take the relationship any further. They had a lot of fun while it lasted but they both knew that long distance relationships were a lot of effort and with the jobs they had, it would just but impractical.

While she was waiting in the airport for her flight back to Chicago, Hailey found herself saddened by the fact that her and Jay hadn’t texted or called for a couple of days so she opened her phone, pulled up Jay’s contact and called it.

No answer, so she texted.

‘About to board my plane, just wanted to check in’

Jay sent a response quickly.

‘Sorry, deep in a case. Have a safe flight, text me when you land’

She decided to shrug it off but Hailey knew something wasn’t right.

The journey felt like years but after her flight and a taxi ride home, Hailey was finally back in her own apartment in Chicago. It was 2am when she arrived so when she reached her bedroom she quickly changed and got straight into bed, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning she got up, easily slipping back into her normal routine and went to work. Voight had had offered for her to take a few days to get settled back into Chicago and sleep off the jet lag but she politely declined as she just wanted her normal back.

The day went pretty slowly, no major cases, but Jay was acting different and Hailey knew it. When she first showed up at work she got warm welcomes from Trudy and the whole unit but nothing from Jay, they barely said two words to each other all day that weren’t work-related and it was making Hailey a little upset.

Since they had spent most of the day doing paperwork, the team got sent home at a reasonable time. Adam and Kim left together closely followed by Kevin as Voight silently worked in his office.

Hailey entered the locker room where she knew she would find Jay, and she was right.

As she hesitantly walked through the doorway, Hailey spoke. “Can we talk?”

Jay wasn’t facing the door when his partner walked in but, upon hearing her voice, he quickly adjusted his positioning on the bench he had planted himself on to grab his stuff from his locker so he was looking at her.

“Sure” he replied softly, pretty confident he knew what she wanted to talk about.

“Come over to mine in about half an hour?” Hailey asked.

Jay nodded in response and they both grabbed their things and walked to the parking lot together.

They walked in silence but it wasn’t their usual, comfortable, silence. The air around the two was stiff. Either way, it wasn’t long before they reached their cars and headed their separate ways.

Almost exactly half an hour later, Hailey heard a knock at her door. She got up from her position on her couch and went to answer the door, knowing it would be her partner on the other side.

“Hey” Jay said with a weak smile as Hailey opened the door and he walked inside.

He set his jacket on one of the hooks by the door as he always did when he was at her apartment and made his way to her couch.

Sitting in silence on opposite ends of the furniture both detectives waited for the other to talk first and after a few uncomfortable seconds, Hailey decided that it was probably fair for her to talk first seeing as she was the one who wanted to talk to him and she invited him over.

“What is going on with you?” she asked, not wanting to beat around the bush, just getting straight to the point.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on Jay, don’t give me that crap. You haven’t spoken to me at all since I got back from New York so I’m sorry for assuming my best friend would have more to say after I left for 4 weeks” Hailey rebuked at Jay’s easy response.

“I guess I figured you’d wanna catch up with the team rather than talk to me seeing as we spoke to each other so much while you were over there” he said but Hailey knew that wasn’t the truth.

She started to get angrier but did her best not to show it and kept her cool.

“Well that’s a load of bull” she snapped. “We both know that over the second half of my trip we barely spoke, compared to the first two weeks anyway”

“Oh and thats my fault?” Jay jabbed back, beginning to feel anger rise in himself. Still, they both sat in the same spots on the couch and neither raised their voice.

“Well is it mine?” Hailey replied.

“More like your boyfriend’s” Jay murmered without thinking.

Hailey couldn’t believe what he had just said.

“Is that why you’ve been weird for these past weeks?” She asked “You’re jealous of Liam?”

That word ‘jealous’ played with his head but Jay didn’t reply, still regretting even bringing it up.

“Not that its any of your business, but he wasn’t my boyfriend” Hailey hissed and moved her body to a much more upright position, but keeping their eye contact. “It was a two-week fling, it didn’t mean anything” she continued with a quizzical look on her face.

“Wait so you guys aren’t together anymore?” Jay asked, a little taken aback by what his partner had just said.

“No, we ended things the day before I left because we agreed it was just a bit of fun and neither of us had the want to try a long distance relationship.” she said while relaxing back into the couch again.

Silence fell in the room for a moment as Hailey waited for Jay to say something but instead he just stayed where he was and his brows furrowed.

“Is that really why you’ve been acting weird?” she finally asked when she realised Jay had no intention of speaking.

Still not saying a word, Jay shrugged his shoulders a little embarrassed that he had even made this into a thing, it’s not like he could control who Hailey was dating.

“Oh my god will you please say something or I’m abut to get really mad” she exclaimed with a little more volume.

Jay had no idea what he could say without confessing his feelings right there in the middle of her living room so he kept his mouth shut which really pushed Hailey over the edge.

“Jay” she scoffed “for fuck’s sake what are you doing? You’re in no place to act like this because of a guy I dated for like a minute, last time I checked this partnership wasn’t an exclusive relationship and I can date whoever the hell I want” she began to stand up and continued “Just because you’re not looking for someone doesn’t mean I can’t be”

In reality, both of them knew exactly who they really wanted to date and it was none other than the person right in front of them at that very moment but neither were ready to admit that. Or so they thought, Jay’s mind had other plans.

“Who says a haven’t already found them?” Jay whispered, loud enough for Hailey to hear.

That was the second time this evening that Jay had said something that was meant to be kept in his head. ’God I really need to think more before I speak’ he thought.

“What?” Hailey asked, sitting back down.

“I didn’t mean-“ Jay began.

“So you are seeing someone” Hailey cut in.

“What?” his forehead creased “no, I’m not seeing anyone” he said truthfully.

“But you just said you found-“

“You, Hailey” and he did it again, Jay spoke before he could stop himself. However, this time, it proved to work in his favour, as a large smile appeared on his partner’s face.

For Chicago’s best detectives, both Jay and Hailey looked pretty stupid right now. But not stupid in a bad way, stupid in a huge-smile-on-your-face-don’t-know-what-to-say way.

For a second, they both remained still, not entirely sure what had just happened and where to go from there. Then Hailey made a spur of the moment decision and launched herself at Jay.

First she put a hand on his cheek and that was quickly followed by her placing her lips to his and pulling her leg over his knees so she was sitting in his lap and they were face to face.

Without ever breaking the kiss, Jay’s hands momentarily explored Hailey’s body, mainly moving up and down her torso, whereas Hailey kept both hands on his cheeks or gently around his neck, softly touching the hair on the back of his head.

Both were very content as it felt like the whole world was slipping away and they were all that existed. Hailey could feel a huge smile on Jay’s face as they kissed and it only made hers grow wider as their tongues intertwined and they bit at each other’s lips.

Though they had exchanged no words further than Jay implying that Hailey was all he was looking for, neither of them felt it was necessary.

Since they day they had met, the two had gone from strangers, to partners, to best friends, to admitting they trust each other more than anyone else and would follow each other blind. But they had always been Hailey and Jay, and thats exactly what they were that night, nothing had changed between them apart from the enormous weight that was their unspoken love for each other was lifted off their shoulders and they were just Hailey and Jay.

[draco-kasai]

Hero Collaboration Program

Chapter 2 pt. 1: Welcome to The Program! --> 

Chapter 2 pt. 2                                            Find Chapter 1 here!

Story Summery: High School Hero Collaboration Program! Helping Sophomore hero students connect with others around the world! Come join us for a two-week-long trip to one of our schools for an amazing once in a lifetime experience with students of Yuuei! Only a lucky 40 students will be selected for this program. They will be split into two groups of 20 and sent to different schools to have completely unique experiences!

AKA; A very bitg crossover fanfic I started because I can’t help myself. I adore all of these characters and hope I had done them justice, though I did take many backstories and threw them into the meat grinder to remold them in a way that fits this universe. Also, I love 1-A but I also want to take them down a peg or two... I also just want to see them get their asses handed to them.  

A/N: Here it is! Chapter two! I hope anyone who decides to read it enjoys!

Alfred Freedom Jones practically bounced out of his bed in excitement. All the exchange student’s had arrived around 7PM last night in hopes for them to receive enough rest and get used to any sudden time change and jet lag. He and Valerie - a teacher of the school where they conduct part of the program - had wanted to be the ones to pick up and welcome all the kids. However, They were tasked with any last minute decorating to make the dorms presentable and welcoming and preparing dinner, that way the kids would have food in their bellies before they headed to their dorms and began unpacking and going to bed. 

The dorms of the school are located right behind the school itself. Although they were especially made 15 years ago since the program had begun, they are used for other purposes throughout the year to not go to waste. When students find themselves in situations where they need a place to stay, they are welcome to speak to a counselor to explain the situation, where they are given a room key and a ‘job’ as a tutor or teacher's assistant as well as have mandatory counseling to ‘pay off’ their stay. Sports clubs are also welcome to apply and stay in the program dorms during the summer for training camp, and many clubs even enjoy having sleep-overs for a few days as a bonding activity. 

This year has been one of the few where nobody has found the need to stay in the dorms throughout their school year. Alfred could almost cry for joy at that fact. Not only is there no student in the school facing such problems, but there won't be a random kid trying to sneak into all of their activities. It’s endearing when it happens the first few times, but the moment you have every one of those students trying to sneak into amusement parks and other field trips with the exchange students they’d become attached to, making you buy them a ticket on the spot to not just send them back, it becomes a little of a problem. Needless to say, he and Valerie have started carrying extra money with them on field trips.

Last year was a new one. Instead of them just buying a ticket on the spot, the two seniors that were with them had been snuck onto the bus and into six flags. They had somehow convinced the shy Brazilian boy to use their quirk to turn them into mice for an hour, so they could sneak in.

Everyone that enters a theme park nowadays are given quirk suppressant bracelets, that are custom-made for each theme park with designs, shapes and looks, that they must wear during their stay and return when they leave. The senior students were somehow able to get their hands on some when they transformed back, inside the theme park.

 Everyone was very smug when they explained to Alfred and Valerie how exactly two seniors not in the program and without tickets got into the theme park. Even the shy boy seemed proud that so much was accomplished with their quirk. As illegal as that is, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of how they had just outsmarted the system. Although that didn’t stop, he or Valerie from lecturing them. His kids were very apologetic, and tried to make up for it by paying the teachers for the two students tickets by all pitching in.  He had avoided Aizawa’s questioning stare at the two students the whole day and allowed Valerie and the kids to keep him busy.

All things considered, Alfred and Valerie might not be the best choices as chaperones for the students, since they let them get away with shit when they know they’ve been outsmarted. Their superiors don’t have to know. Although the teachers praise them for being so innovative, the two teachers always make sure to drill it into their brain how important following the law is and how they shouldn't abuse their quirks in such ways. They also make sure to explain what kind of consequences such actions can cause, especially if they were pros. 

The reason they don’t kick them out of the program or anything, though, is because they are kids in training for a dangerous profession. They deserve the opportunity to have fun and act their age every now and again. Sure, they usually end up realizing how idiotic many of their ideas turn out to be, but it’s best they start learning now than mess up later and have their careers ruined for it. He and Valerie have kept in contact with kids who had graduated too! They have all become wonderful heroes, even if they had pulled quite a few pranks during their time in the program.

Adjusting the prescription glasses on his face, Alfred grabbed all the lanyards with cardholders attached to them and made sure each of the students program ID’s, room and key cards were there. He was going to hand them out last night after dinner, but all the kids seemed too exhausted, so he and Valerie had led them to their rooms to go unpack and rest. Once he was sure all of them were there, he grabbed his own lanyard. Wrapping it around his jeans' belt loop, he grabbed a folder and stepped out of his dorm. 

Looking at his watch, he realized it was 9:01 AM. They had told the kids to set their alarms, so they should be awake and getting ready by now. Going over the schedule he had memorized, he noted that they all had to be in the cafeteria at 9:45 for a late breakfast. After, they would head over to the large field separating the two dorm buildings for group activities. Since the students are all jet-lagged, they are free from classes till Friday, tomorrow. It may be a program for training, but they're students, can’t let them all fall behind.

 Making his way down the hallway, he began knocking on doors to the boys rooms on his floor. “Head down to the common area in ten minutes! Wear something comfortable for physical activity!” he called out as he made his way down all 12 doors. He could faintly hear Valerie doing the same downstairs to the females. 

As he walked towards the stairs, he spotted a few students already following behind him. He had even spotted a few of the girls walking behind Valerie, already attempting small talk. Once in the common area, he and Valerie smiled at the kids that followed them down.

“You kids are free to enjoy yourselves with anything you’d like while we wait for the others.” Valerie’s chipper voice practically sang as she spoke. “The remote to the TV is on the coffee table, the pool table racks are on the wall over there, the ball for the foosball table should be in one of the goals, and you are free to explore the field, just don’t go too far.” 

Both adults watched in amusement as the students stared around in awe. By the time the ten minutes had passed, all the students were scattered throughout the field, or common room. It hadn’t taken long for the two adults to gather them all up outside. One of the students had been quite sociable, going around speaking to everyone.

“Alright students ~!” Valerie sang as she closed and locked the sliding glass door behind her, “Since we still have time before we have to head over for breakfast, let’s all introduce ourselves properly to one another.” 

Alfred gave the kids a two finger salute as his partner took her place next to him, “Wassup guys! I’m Alfred Freedom Jones! Call me Mr. Jones! I’m a representative of the Hero collaboration program! I’ve been to both schools and have been doing this for 6 years! I was actually a student of this program when it was established! I hope you all enjoy yourselves while you are here!”

“Hello~! I’m Valerie Felicity Frizzle! Please, feel free to call me Miss. Frizzle or even Frizz, as many of my kids call me. I have been teaching in Marina high school for 19 years now. I was actually the teacher that had convinced my coworkers and the district to sign our school up for this lovely program! Truly, it has been a wonderful joy to meet and work with such wonderful children! I hope you all have a glorious experience and take home with you something new~!” The woman curtsied, showing off her dark purple dress that depicted outer space in beautiful patterns and colors.

“Now then! Your turn guys! Anyone want to go first, or shall we popcorn it? Maybe left to right? Choose someone and let them choose after? Whatcha guys up for?”

Both teachers watched in amusement as they watched the kids glance around at one another. They had seen some of them already starting to make some friends. Five of them seemed to get along well while playing foosball. Two had played 8-ball while conversing with two other students that watched with interest. Some of the others kept to themselves while watching TV or hanging around outside. Hopefully they are able to make some friends too. Just as Miss. Frizzle prepared to call on someone, a green arm raised up.

“Me! Me! I would love to go first!” The boy’s grin widened as everyone's gaze landed on him. Everything about him was a different shade of  green, from his skin to his hair and eyes. He wore a white tank top with an unbuttoned short-sleeved button up that has Disney dogs printed all over it, and loose, knee-length jean shorts. A boy at the other end of the crowd of students with green eyes and a serious face jolted in surprise and sank a little into his seat once he noticed him. 

“I like your enthusiasm, kid! Alright! Let’s hear it! Ah, don’t share any quirk information, though! We have a little activity planned later, and staying anonymous would be the best course of action.” Alfred grinned just as wide in response. 

“Okay!” He bounced over to stand between them. It was unnecessary, but it looks like it’s a thing now. Both teachers could see the discomfort that had settled on a small handful of students at the thought of standing in front of strangers to introduce themselves. “Hi! My name is Garfield Mark Logan! You guys can call me Gar! My name can be quite the mouthful. My hero name is Beast Boy and I came from San Francisco, aaand oh yeah! I’m Vegetarian! It’s nice to meet you all -! Oh my gosh, Damian! Hey dude!!” 

Said boy groaned as he facepalmed. A few people in the group held back their laughter as best they could as Garfield rushed over to him. Grabbing the sleeve of Damian’s jacket, he dragged him to the front of the crowd, “You practically ghosted us, dude. This is your punishment. Introduce yourself.” 

Damian almost stumbled when Garfield pushed him before retreating back to his spot next to a boy with green highlights in his hair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he fixed the sleeve to his hoodie and straightened his black V-neck shirt. Clearing his throat, he spoke, “Hello, I am Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I suppose if I am going off of Garfield’s introduction; my hero name is Red Bird, I came from Gotham in New Jersey, and I am also Vegetarian.” Green eyes scanned the crowd before pointing to a boy with light brown hair wearing a tie diy shirt. “You go next.”

“O - oh! Um, okay.” The boy stood to his feet from his place on the concrete, “Hi, uh, My name is Rudy Tabootie. I live pretty close actually, Burbank, to be exact. Uh, I’m not vegetarian… sorry? Uh, my Hero name is Snap. It’s really cool to meet you all.” and just like that, all the introductions went, and the group found themselves in the cafeteria for breakfast with their new lanyards. It wasn’t long till all the student’s exited the cafeteria and made their way to the field between the dorms. 

“Alright guys! We want to explain a few things with you before we start today’s first activity!” Mr. Jones clapped his hands together, excitedly. 

“I’m sure you have all noticed how the special guests, the main reason for this program, Yuuei isn’t here yet. Well, they will all be arriving tomorrow. However, you will not be introduced to them until Monday.” Miss. Frizzle smiled widely, the students before them began murmuring to one another in confusion.

“Um, Why?” A girl with pearl white skin asked. She wore light gray joggers, a sky blue tank top and had her cobalt blue hair tied up in pigtails. Jenny Walkman.

“The answer is simple! The students of Yuuei have had the whole school year to train and get to know one another, as well as their abilities. Needless to say, they all know how to work together.” Miss. Frizzle explained, “For this reason, our program is set up to allow all the exchange students to have time to get to know one another as well as each other's quirks and skills, so you may be able to work together when needed. This way, when we do battle training, everything would be on as equal footing as we can get.”

Mr. Jones nodded beside her, “Which is why all weekend, as they rest from their long flight, get accustomed to their surroundings and have fun sightseeing, we will be doing a bunch of group activities to get to know one another better. That way, when we begin battle training…” He trails off, hoping someone would finish for him. He wasn’t disappointed. 

“We’d at least be on equal footing against them.” A girl with long red hair that she had tied up in a ponytail responded. Wearing a green crop top, and dark blue cargo pants, she crossed her arms over her chest, a smile crossing her lips slightly at the plan. Kimberly Anne Possible

“Precisely!” Miss. Frizzle and Mr. Jones sang together.

“Today’s activity, drum roll please,” Miss. Frizzle happily made the sound effect for her coworker. Mr. Jones held up a dodgeball, where he got it, nobody knows, “Dodgeball!”

Chapter 2 pt. 2  

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3

Chapter 50: Jon

“Do you have anything to declare?” the rather bored-looking man behind the counter asks without looking up from the paperwork.

For a brief second, Jon oscillates between how would you react if I told you what was in my pocket and yes, I declare this to be a complete waste of time, but he’s anxious to get this over with, so he simply says, “No, nothing.”

The man rattles off a few more standard questions, which Jon answers with only about half his attention. His eyes keep wandering over to the gates, just a dozen or so yards away. It’s so close, he’s almost there…

“Right, that’s everything,” the man says at last. He stamps Jon’s passport and pushes it, along with the requisite forms, over the counter. “Welcome to London. Next!”

Jon moves towards the down escalators, awkwardly attempting to stuff the papers back into his bag as he walks. Well, technically walks. He’s moving at a fast clip that doesn’t quite count as a run but could probably keep up with one. Part of his brain wanders off down the path of linguistics and semantics, trying to figure out what distinguishes a run from a fast walk, but most of it is preoccupied with what’s on the other side of those gates. Through the portal, down the stairs, outside and to the Tube station; he’s not thrilled about it, actually, but under the circumstances, it’s the best he’s going to be able to do.

Damn Julia for destroying his phone. Again. Nowhere has pay phones anymore, either. God, they’re going to be so worried, he promised to check in and he didn’t and now he’s a whole day overdue from what he originally said would be the latest he’d be back. The trains should be running, even this early, he should be able to get home before they have to leave for the Institute, and if he doesn’t he can just go the rest of the way to the Institute and meet them there…

He’s tired, he’s jet-lagged, he’s stressed. He’s used up too much of himself, given in to the Eye more than he should, and it’s overwhelming. He’s learned virtually nothing useful on this trip and he just wants to be home. He feels like he could sleep for a week. Or at least like he wants to.

When this is all over, he promises himself. When it’s all over, after the Unknowing, if Elias is still around, Jon will insist on vacation time for himself and his team members. They need the downtime, and Jon won’t lie, the idea of getting to spend a few weeks with just Martin and Tim is appealing. For the moment, though, he’ll have to settle for a few hours.

He would dearly love to take the day off. But Elias has made it clear that he wants them to think time is of the essence, so he can’t tip his hand and stay out too long. Maybe they can come in late. On second thought, though—he glances quickly at the outsize clock on the wall—he’s not going to make it home in time for much more than a quick nap, if that, before they have to leave. Maybe he should just go straight to the Institute, use the phone in the Archives to call and say he’s back, and curl up on the cot he still keeps in the storage room. He can at least get some rest, maybe—

“Jon! Jon!”

Jon’s head jerks up and whips around. He doesn’t have any checked luggage, so he just kept going and he’s crossed the line from the passengers-only area to the public area, but he hasn’t been paying attention to much around him. There’s a bit of a crowd, but not so much of one he can’t see Tim and Martin watching him from a few yards away.

Jon breaks into a run, never taking his eyes off of the two people he’s wanted most to see as they do the same towards him. He somehow manages to avoid tripping on a small child dragging a rolling suitcase and flings himself into their arms.

For the first time in almost two weeks, he feels some of the tension leave his body. Martin is soft, Tim is solid, both of them are warm, and he’s safe here. The song the Primes danced to, the night the three of them moved into their house, floats through his head, and he clings to Tim and Martin and inhales the scent he’s come to associate with home. For a long time, they just stand there clutching one another.

“Melanie’s right,” he says at last. “Jet lag sucks.”

Tim and Martin both laugh, a little desperately. Jon laughs, too, and looks up. Martin has at least a day’s worth of stubble growing on his chin and Tim’s shirt is inside out. It looks like they just rolled out of bed and came straight for the airport, or…oh, God. “Tell me you two haven’t been sitting here waiting for me since yesterday.”

“We thought about it, but no,” Tim assures him. “The Primes called and said you’d be coming in this morning.”

“We got them one of those throwaway phones,” Martin adds. “Honestly, we should’ve done that a long time ago, but…it’s a long story. We’ll tell you about it when you’ve had a chance to get some rest. You look exhausted.”

“So do you.” Jon looks from Martin to Tim and back again. “I’m sure we can take a half-day without anyone getting too upset. Do you think Sasha and Melanie will handle things for us?”

“Sasha owes us,” Tim says. He eases back but keeps one arm around Jon; Martin does the same. Jon shifts his arms so they’re behind Tim and Martin’s waists. “She’s taken a fair bit of time off these last couple weeks—and it’s for good reason, so don’t think I’m saying otherwise. But she owes us. I’m sure she’ll hold down the fort for a couple hours.”

“I’ll text Melanie when we get to the car and see what she says,” Martin offers.

They walk out of the terminal together and to where Tim has parked his car. Jon half-expects they’ll talk on the way home, but they don’t; he really is exhausted and he can tell they’re tired, too, so the ride is made in silence. None of them speak when they get to the house, either. They just head inside, where Tim and Martin pull Jon into the bedroom and none of them really bother to change into their sleep clothes, just shuck their outer layers and collapse into bed together.

Jon is plagued by his usual nightmares, plus a couple new ones, but honestly, at this point he’s used to them. He wakes up abruptly, but not screaming, and is momentarily disorientated by the brightness of the room and the awareness of another presence in the bed before he registers that he’s back where he belongs, safe and secure between Martin and Tim. Well, between is stretching it a bit; among might be a better word to use. They’ve somehow managed to end up in a tangled pile of limbs and extremities. Jon’s cheek is pillowed on the soft, warm fleshiness of Martin’s upper arm, his neck fitting easily into Martin’s elbow, and one of Tim’s legs is hooked over Jon’s hip. He normally doesn’t like the sensation of skin against skin, or at least he hasn’t with anyone he’s ever been with, but this feels…right.

Something clicks into place, all at once, and it makes his breath catch in his throat. When he called to talk to Tim and Martin because he needed to hear their voices, he didn’t expect to get so relaxed and comfortable that he stopped thinking before he spoke, and as soon as he heard the words love you both slide out of his mouth he panicked and ended the call before giving them a chance to reply. He’s spent as much of the last three or so days as he can—when he can spare the brainpower for it—turning his feelings over and over and trying to analyze them. He doesn’t doubt he meant those words, but he’s been trying to parse out what he meant by them and what it means for them all. Everything he’s been through between then and now has meant he’s been a bit stressed, a bit on edge, and hasn’t really had a lot of time to think about it clearly.

Now, though, he thinks about the safe and secure feeling he gets when he’s in their arms like this, about the desperate way he’s mentally cried out for both of them every time he’s been in danger, but also about the moments of deep and utter happiness they’ve shared over the last year, the nights they’ve laughed so hard they start crying, the afternoons they’ve spent with Charlie in their kitchen. He thinks about falling out of Helen’s tunnels into their arms and the perfect moment of joy when he saw their faces in the airport. Most poignantly, he thinks of the yawning chasm that seemed to open up the minute he crossed beyond the security barrier when he left London two weeks ago—the empty blackness that separated him from Martin and Tim—and for the first time, everything coalesces into pure certainty.

Love you both. Of course he does. He loves both of them with a depth he’s never felt before, and it scares the hell out of him because he runs the risk of losing them both to what’s coming. At the same time, it fills him with a sense of utter peace, because he has them now.

He wishes they could just stay like this a little longer, but an alarm he hasn’t realized someone set goes off and both Martin and Tim stir with varying noises of dismay. They’ve got to get up, got to get to the Institute. Still, Jon clings to them both for a moment more before, reluctantly, he climbs out of bed to go take a shower.

Tim drives them to work, and none of them argue.

Sasha meets Jon with a huge hug when he walks in. Surprisingly, Melanie offers him one, too. It’s a bit stiff, but it feels genuine, and Jon takes it willingly.

“I’m sorry you’re trapped here,” he tells her. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

Melanie shrugs. “My choice. Maybe one I shouldn’t have made, but still…my choice. Glad I can help. Now tell me what I need to do.”

Jon’s more grateful to her than he can express. Looking around at the Archives, at the assistants, at his family, he can see now what he wouldn’t let himself see before: Sasha’s hunger, Tim’s exhaustion, Martin’s strain. They’re all on edge and they’re all walking a fine line. Melanie hasn’t fallen as hard as they have; she’s still just a regular assistant. Still a bit of an outsider looking in. She’s far enough away from all of this that she can…well, she can’t walk away, but she’s at least not having her soul sucked out of her body with every step she takes. And she’s choosing to be here, choosing to help. She’s someone he can trust to protect his people without reservation or hesitation.

And if what the Primes have said is even half true, which it seems to be, she can probably handle herself almost better than the rest of them.

“For starters, I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone,” Jon says. “Then, perhaps, I can tell you what I’ve been up to. We—we need to make plans.”

“War room or downstairs?” Sasha asks. “Either one should be fine. Elias left sick about twenty minutes ago, so we can all convene without him knowing.”

Jon is startled. “How do you know?”

Melanie looks gleeful. “Sasha went up to tell him you were back and that you’d be in later today and all that, and while she had him distracted, I distracted Rosie and mixed laxatives in with the creamer she was putting in his coffee. A lot of laxatives.”

“The whole building heard him, practically.” Sasha smirks. “Rosie wanted to call him an ambulance, but he insisted he’d be fine to get home on his own and that he just needed rest or something like that. I didn’t read his mind,” she adds, evidently catching something in Jon’s expression. “Or hers. Manal told me.”

“See, this is why I drink tea,” Martin says with a straight face.

Jon is torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to scold them both for recklessness. Instead, he says, “If you’re sure…let’s go ahead and do this up here. The seating’s a bit more comfortable.”

Melanie turns on her heel. “I’ll go get them.”

Jon ducks into his office only long enough to grab a couple of things, then joins the others in the War Room. There are a couple of additional pins on the board and a new color of string; considering it stretches from London to Beijing to start bouncing around the States, Jon guesses it’s tracing his journey. The whiteboard has a list of the most common names and places they’ve seen in the statements, with tally marks indicating how many statements they’ve come up with for each, but Sasha begins erasing it with the explanation that they’ve already made a more permanent copy of those notes. They’ve also set up a secondary tea station in the room itself, which Jon appreciates, since it means Martin doesn’t have to be out of his sight for the length of time it would take him to brew tea for them all.

God, the separation anxiety is terrible.

Melanie arrives with the Primes just as Martin finishes up the tea; Jon Prime crosses over to where Jon stands, smiling wanly, and pulls him into a hug. “I hope your trip went better than mine,” he murmurs in Jon’s ear.

“I doubt it,” Jon mutters back. Jon Prime sighs regretfully and lets him go.

He gets a hug from Martin Prime, too, and then they all settle into seats in a rough semicircle around the boards and single desk. Jon brings the mug of tea to his lips and inhales for a moment. Jon Prime is right, it doesn’t taste as good when Martin doesn’t make it. “Right,” he says at last. “Fill me in. What have I missed?”

“Not much, honestly,” Tim says. “A few live statements, Elias being a dick, and…whatever that mess was on Tuesday. But we haven’t been able to find much about the Unknowing.”

Jon is instantly on edge. “Tuesday? What happened on Tuesday?”

“Pick something,” Melanie mutters, with just a bit of an edge to it.

Martin sighs. “Peter Lukas was here.”

“What?” Jon barely manages to stop from dropping his mug. “I-I thought—I thought the deal was that he had to stay away from you.”

“The Institute doesn’t show up in those pictures in the Light, apparently, so there’s no way for the Keeper to actually know he violated the contract,” Martin says. “Unless someone tells him, which, well, if I can figure out how to find him, I’m going to. I got it on tape, at least, so there’s evidence. But yeah, apparently he had a meeting with Elias and made a trip down here first.”

Upset, Jon reaches over to touch Martin’s arm lightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll admit it was a bit rough, but that’s just because I was already kind of…not at my best. I took a live statement two days in a row,” Martin admits, wincing under Jon’s look. “But anything he did to me, I got over pretty quickly.”

Jon doesn’t like the emphasis Martin places on the word me, but when he turns to scan the others, he realizes the one who looks the worst off is Martin Prime. Jon Prime meets his eyes, and his lips flatten. “Peter Lukas trails the Lonely after him. I wasn’t here,” he says softly. “Martin woke up alone and…”

“It was a bit touch and go,” Martin Prime says. “But we’re all right.”

“Where were you?” Jon asks his counterpart. It’s not like him to go haring off around London, especially during the day.

“Hill Top Road. Your team found a statement I remembered…when Martin brought it to me the first time, I remember being tempted to investigate but feeling very strongly that I shouldn’t. I had the same feeling this time, so I went,” Jon Prime answers. “I thought I might get some…useful information.”

“Did you?”

“Not about the Unknowing.”

Jon waits a second, but it’s obvious Jon Prime isn’t going to say further, and he decides not to push him. Sasha evidently comes to the same conclusion. “I feel bad that I missed all of this, but I was out for the afternoon. My uncle called and wanted to talk to me, so everyone told me to just go.”

“Is everything all right?” Jon asks.

“Depends on your definition of ‘all right’,” Sasha replies. “He’s being released next week. Which is great, and I’m actually quite excited about it. But he also—he had a statement.” She points at the shelves. “Tape’s in there if you want to listen to it later, but short version, the Corruption killed my parents and grandparents. Uncle Wade and I probably had a lucky escape ourselves.”

“Sasha, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Anyway, that was basically all that happened with us while you were gone. What about you?” Sasha pushes her glasses up her nose with her middle finger. “Did you learn anything useful while you were gone?”

“Maybe? Not by actually following Gertrude’s path, though.” Jon takes a sip of tea to brace himself, then sets it on the desk and takes a deep breath. “Did Martin and Tim tell you about what I found in Chicago and Pittsburgh?”

“Fat lot of nothing,” Melanie says. “Except for the fact that Gertrude Robinson managed to not actually get charged with anything after being arrested.”

“Essentially, yes.” Jon glances from Martin to Tim and back, knowing they’re going to be upset. “As you know, then, I planned to take the bus from Pittsburgh to D.C., then fly home. I should have been home yesterday. But…well, the bus I was on made a stop to allow us to stretch, and I was…accosted.”

“Jon,” Tim says, “did you get kidnapped again?”

“Only a little,” Jon protests. He knows how feeble it sounds, but it does at least get a surprised laugh out of Martin. “I’d—I’d had a feeling I was being followed since I landed in Chicago, but by the time I got to Pittsburgh…I’m sorry I didn’t say anything while we were on the phone on Monday, but I-I didn’t want to worry you two unnecessarily. But by then I was sure. I had hoped the cop that was stalking me would be left behind, but no, he was still after me when the bus stopped.”

“You got kidnapped by a cop?” Martin’s voice rose a bit in pitch.

Jon shook his head. “No, by someone chasing that cop. Alleged cop, anyway. You recall that statement last year, the—the anatomy professor with the students with the strange names?”

“Wh—oh, yeah, the Stranger statement. First live one after…” Martin waves a hand around the room, indicating the Primes, the timeline on the whiteboard, and his own scars.

“Well, apparently one of them was hiding out as a Chicago beat cop. Must have recognized me, or at least spotted the Eye’s influence on me. But he didn’t actually manage to get to me. I got kidnapped—or escorted, as she would have it—by Julia Montauk.”

Sasha’s eyes widen. “Robert Montauk’s daughter?”

Jon nods. “She’s working with Trevor Herbert. The vampire hunter. He’s still alive…somehow. They’re over in America hunting…monsters. Mostly.” He shivers slightly, remembering the smug sneer on the man’s face: The line gets blurrier every day. Could he…no. No, he won’t think about that.

Martin and Tim both reach for Jon’s hands at the same instant. He clasps them both, grateful for the connection. Melanie frowns. “Fill me in. Who are these people?”

“Robert Montauk was a serial killer, but he was also working with the Dark,” Sasha tells her. “Julia Montauk was, well, his daughter. She gave a statement a few years back. Trevor Herbert was a man who spent basically his whole life hunting vampires. Or at least that’s what he calls them. There’s this whole…thing. We thought at first he died of lung cancer, like, literally in the middle of making his statement, but apparently he survived.”

Melanie taps her finger on her mug. Her eyes go vacant for a moment. Before Jon can continue, though, she turns to Jon Prime. “So is he part of the End or the Hunt?”

“The Hunt,” Jon Prime says, looking surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought so, but the whole cheating-death thing made me wonder, that’s all.”

“A lot of—of avatars have cheated death, in one way or another,” Jon Prime says slowly. “But it’s their patrons, I suppose, keeping them alive. One more favor.”

Melanie hums. “’S irrelevant, I guess. Anyway, I’m up to speed now. Go on. You got kidnapped by a Hunter and—the daughter of the Dark?”

“She’s with the Hunt now, too. I got their statement while we waited for Max Mustermann to—well, regrow a body.” Jon shudders a bit again. It was all a bit grisly. “They obviously didn’t know anything about the Unknowing, but I was hoping Mustermann would.”

“Did he?” Martin asks softly.

Jon sighs. “Mostly what we already knew. He didn’t even know when it was set to happen, just ‘when things are ready.’ I’d have tried more questions, but Trevor and Julia decided they weren’t going to get anything else useful out of him and dispatched him.”

Tim sighs, too. “So you got a net total of…nothing.”

“Not quite. Julia and Trevor offered me a—a thank-you of sorts, for helping them catch Mustermann. Apparently they’d been after him for some time.” Jon lets go of Tim and Martin’s hands and reaches into his pocket. “I made a deal at the time. Bring this back to England, promise to dispose of it after, and I’d get all the information I needed.”

Jon Prime chuckles slightly. “That sounds familiar.”

Jon pulls out the folded page he’s been carrying for two days. Martin eyes it apprehensively. “Jon…what did you do?”

Melanie leans forward. “Is that—leather?”

“Technically, I think leather has to be tanned first. It’s just skin.” Jon studies it. “There’s a book—Mary Keay had it. It’s got pages on it with—it’s hard to explain, but the pages are sort of…possessed by the spirits of people who’ve died. Technically, mostly people she murdered. Gertrude Robinson knew how to do it too, and…she bound Gerry into it. Uh, Gerard Keay.”

Sasha’s eyebrows shoot up. “Gertrude Robinson murdered Gerard Keay?”

“No.” Jon reconsiders. “Not technically, but I’m inclined to hold her responsible. She had to have known how little time he had left—his cancer was incredibly advanced when he was admitted to the hospital. But I-I don’t think violent death is necessarily a prerequisite for being bound into the book, just…fresh death. I wouldn’t know.”

“You’re right.” Jon Prime massages his temple with one hand, eyes closed. “I would rather not know those details, but unfortunately I do.”

Martin Prime slides a hand between Jon Prime’s shoulder blades and rubs gently; Jon Prime leans into him and sighs, almost inaudibly. Martin studies the page in Jon’s hand. “So what did he tell you? I—I’m guessing you…summoned him.”

“Nothing yet,” Jon answers. “Like I said…he promised to tell me everything he could if I would just bring him back here, and then burn the page after we’re done.”

He unfolds the page, takes a deep breath, and begins to read aloud. As the last time, the air grows thick and heavy, and the words taste bitter on his tongue. He aches with sympathy for the dying—technically the dead, but reading it, he feels there, the same way he does when he reads the statements.

“‘And so Gerard Keay ended,’” he concludes, lowering the page. And just like last time, there the figure is in front of him, with no clear idea of when he appeared or how he got there. Martin makes a strangled noise of surprise. Jon can’t help but smile a bit as he makes eye contact with the specter. “Welcome home, Gerry.”

Gerry grins and makes an ironic little half-bow. “Archivist.”

“My friends call me Jon.” Jon waves a hand around him. “And speaking of…this is my team.”

He introduces each one of them in turn, including the Primes. Gerry is particularly startled to see them. “Time travel? I didn’t know that was possible. How’d you do it?”

“Spiral,” Martin Prime says succinctly. “Not the best option in the world.”

Gerry studies Martin Prime for a minute, then gives Jon Prime a meaningful glance with a raised eyebrow. Jon Prime rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face as he kisses Martin Prime’s temple. Martin Prime relaxes a little, and it occurs to Jon, all of a sudden, that he’s jealous, at least a little bit.

Turning back to Jon, Gerry folds his arms across his chest. “All right. I suppose you’ve got questions.”

“Just one,” Jon answers. “How did Gertrude plan to stop the Unknowing?”

He knows what the Primes did, but he’s hoping against hope Gertrude might have had a different plan. Blowing up a factory will work, but he’s afraid to let Tim get that close to an explosion in the name of revenge. Unless there’s a way to do it long-range…

“Don’t know,” Gerry says casually.

Melanie throws up her hands dramatically. “Great! Just great. Big help.”

“Hey, now,” Gerry protests. “Okay, I don’t know exactly, but…Gertrude reckoned it couldn’t be stopped ahead of time. It could be delayed, but nothing we could do would actually stop it properly. Even the Dancer could be replaced. But once it starts, it might be vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable to what?” Melanie presses.

“I dunno.”

Melanie lets out a string of profanity that would have had Jon’s grandmother washing his mouth out with soap and salt water. Sasha hides a laugh behind a cough. “Seriously, she never said?”

Gerry’s eyes twinkle. Jon’s pretty sure he’s enjoying teasing them. “She did say she had something that might disrupt it.”

Sasha rolls her hand in a go on gesture. “What?”

“Not long before I went into the hospital, she told me that if something got her first, I was…” Gerry pauses, and there’s a flash of pain in his eyes. Jon realizes he really, truly did care about Gertrude, in his own way. “There’s a storage unit on an industrial estate up near Hainault. She said she rented it under the name Jan Kelly, and hid the key somewhere in the Archives.”

Jon remembers the key he found under the floorboards with Gertrude’s laptop. “Oh. Uh, I think I found that, actually.”

“Well, it’s in that storage unit,” Gerry says. “Whatever she thought might disrupt the ritual, stop the Unknowing, that’s where it is.”

“But you don’t know what it is.” With a sinking feeling, Jon realizes it has to be some kind of explosive.

“No,” Gerry answers. “When I asked her, she said she’d show me when we got back to London. Mind you, she had this weird look in her eyes, like it was some kind of joke.”

Melanie sighs. “So we’ve got a net gain of…a storage unit.”

“Hey, at least I know where to go now,” Jon points out. “It’s something, at least.”

Gerry looks around at them, then turns to the Primes. “Did it work when you did it?”

“It did,” Jon Prime says quietly. “But we lost a lot in the process. We were hoping there might be another method.”

“I reckon if there was, Gertrude would’ve had more than one plan set up,” Gerry says. “She was like that. Never put all your eggs in one basket unless you only have one basket, or you’re damned sure of it.”

“Or you don’t have that many hens,” Sasha says.

Jon sighs and nods. “Thank you, Gerry.”

“Sure. Glad to help what I could.” Gerry studies Jon thoughtfully. “Don’t forget what you promised.”

“As soon as we’re done here.”

Gerry nods. “I think I’m ready to go now. Thank you. For bringing me home.”

“Of course. Uh…I dismiss you,” Jon says, a bit awkwardly.

Gerry sighs in relief and smiles. He gives a wink and a thumbs-up to Martin and Tim, and then he’s gone.

Jon sighs, too. He folds the page back up, then goes over to the metal trash can in the corner, drops it in, and fishes out the spiderweb lighter he keeps finding in his pocket even though he has definitely quit smoking. “Right,” he says, mostly to himself, then lights the page on fire.

None of them speak while the page crumbles away to ashes. Once it’s done, Tim exhales heavily and slumps in his chair, rubbing at his temples with his eyes closed. “Christ, that hurt.”

“Hang on.” Martin grabs Tim’s mug and brushes a hand gently against his cheek before hurrying over to the tea station.

Jon barely stops himself from dropping the trash can and hurries back to Tim’s side. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll be okay. Just—lot of power, you know? It’s getting harder and harder to stop from seeing the marks without trying, and the—the page itself was bad enough, but watching it burn—I don’t know why, but it was painful.” Tim takes a few deep, slow breaths. “I’m okay, Jon, honest.”

Jon doesn’t move from Tim’s side until Martin comes back with the tea and slides it into his hands. After a few moments of inhaling the tea, with Jon on one side of him and Martin on the other, Tim finally looks up and manages a smile. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tim.” Jon takes a chance and brushes the hair on the back of Tim’s neck lightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit drained,” Tim admits. “Should be okay tomorrow.”

Jon Prime sighs. “Tim, if you’re using your abilities…whether you mean to or not, you’re going to need a statement to really recover well.”

Melanie half-rises from her seat. “I can go try and grab you one. Then you can, I don’t know, read it while we go look at this storage unit?”

“We can do that later,” Jon says, waving her to sit down. “Look at the storage unit, I mean. As for the statement…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tape Tim locked in his desk drawer weeks ago, the one labeled in Gertrude’s distinctive handwriting with nothing more than a date and location. He holds it up to show everyone. “This is the statement we’re pretty sure is my father’s. Anyone who wants to can leave…but I think it’s time we listen to it.”

[consumedkings-archive]

a kiss after a long time apart + misolde xoxo

hi dove thanks so much for letting me consume my day with thoughts of Them : )) this went long but mostly because these two don’t know how to shut the fuck up !!! and thank you for making this gorgeous header for me with our little dark comedy sitcom vibes ;--;

i. parental disaster ✤ michael hughes x isolde khan

words: 3.2k

prompt:  “a kiss after a long time apart” taken from this list!

rating: mature, nothing explicit just some teasing insinuations

warnings: pretty much none! the biggest warning is the fact that somehow these two manage to ever keep their clothes on for anything. also softness, and isolde’s parents being nosy, and soli being in her feelings for .0000005 seconds

It shouldn’t be bothering her so much that he isn’t answering her calls.

It shouldn’t be, but it is, because while her parents chatter happily in her living room, she’s been trying to figure out how she can give Michael some kind of warning before he drops by. He always does, when he’s been gone for a while; comes straight from the airport to her house, sauntering in like he isn’t suffering severe jet lag, with that boyish smile on his face.

Of course, her parent’s arrival isn’t unannounced. Isolde had just—forgotten. Which is unlike her, in every sense of the word, unlike her in so many ways but no matter which way she looks at it, the fact of the matter is: her parents told her they were coming to visit, she had confirmed, and then promptly forgotten about it.

Isolde has a glass of wine in her hand that’s mostly untouched when, over the sound of music playing and pleasant chitchat, a car door closes and her mother says, “Oh, is that Michael?” with such warm surprise that it’s astounding Isolde doesn’t about fall over herself trying to get up from the couch.

A warning. He just needs a fair warning, is all, so that he’s not stressed out, since they hadn’t talked about it at all. That’s all. She’s not worried. That would be silly.

By the time she’s set her wine glass down and is picking her way through the tangle of family’s suitcases, Michael has already swept through the door and announces, “Honey, I’m—oh.”

He slows in the foyer, his gaze darting from her to the family members she’s collected in her living room: her younger sister, her father, and her mother. Michael clears his throat and shifts on his feet, the jovial expression quickly muting itself into what she can only imagine is his best fast-paced attempt at professional.

Avery chirps from the floor, “Hi, Mike!” and he waves—or does his best, anyway, when it seems like his brain is trying to calculate too many things at one time.

“Michael,” and she’s hurrying, her own frantic energy translating into a gesture that is only hands fluttering aimlessly, unsure where to land, “my parents are here. My dad, Basir, and my mother, Isla, and—well, you know Avery already, uh—”

“That’s cool,” Michael replies, and then closes his eyes for a minute like he regrets the words instantly. “I mean—that’s great, Soli, I would have showered first or somethin’, if—it’s really nice to meet you—”

“It’s okay, really,” Basir assures quickly. “We’re not worried about it. Isolde said you were away on business. We just got in a few hours ago ourselves.”

Her dad says it like that’s supposed to be comforting, or something, which she knows it isn’t because both her mother and father look perfectly pressed and as though they have been there for days already.

She can see the gears grinding laboriously in his brain, so she says, “I’m going to help him bring his things in,” and then promptly turns Mike around and pushes him into the kitchen. Too late, she thinks, they know his shit isn’t in the kitchen, but she’s already committed to their path, and the sliding door separating the kitchen and the living room will afford them some privacy.

This isn’t the way that she wants this to happen. She’d wanted plenty of time to prepare—calculated risks only, the kind that she’s sure she’s going to win because there’s no way she won’t. It’s not even a matter of being worried that her parents will like Michael; they will, of course. It’s a matter of him liking them.

And maybe a little about them liking him.

“I tried calling,” she says, once the door is closed, “I tried calling like—eight times, Michael—”

“I was on a plane!” It’s not anger hiking up his voice, it’s distress; he’s rummaging around in the cabinet, looking for something to calm his nerves. “And you know I like to just drive—”

“Straight here, I know.” She opens a different cabinet than the one he’s digging through and plants the bottle of whiskey he keeps there in his hand. It’s quickly followed by a glass to put it in, though she’s sure he’s considering the logistics of just drinking it directly from the bottle. “And you don’t check your phone because you’ve been working for weeks straight. Anyway, they’re only here for a few days, and they’re very excited to meet you.”

Michael makes a miserable little noise around a mouthful of whiskey. Fingers rake through his hair, tousling it all out of place as he stands in the middle of the kitchen looking entirely out of place. His brows furrow, and he presses his palm to his forehead like he’s trying to focus. “Okay, alright, uh—your dad is Basir, your mom is Isla, dad’s a diplomat and mom’s a professor of...P-...Uhh...Fuck, it’s—you’ve told me before, I know what it is—”

“Michael.”

“—does start with a p, right? There can’t be that many degrees that—”

“Mikey.”

“Yeah.”

Isolde cups both sides of his face in her hands. “It’s not the SATs, you don’t need to have an essay answer ready.” She takes the glass out of his hand and takes a swallow. “Also, it’s political science and psychology.”

“Oh,” he replies dryly, “if that’s all.”

“She also sometimes does independent studies for comparative world religions, or Latin, if there’s enough interest. She’s vegetarian, and my dad is not. He prefers whiskey over any clear liquor and my mom only drinks wine, except on special occasions.”

He watches her for a moment, the corner of his mouth ticking upward. “You wanna keep that glass? Sounds like you might need it more than me,” he prompts, and she finds herself smiling in spite of the way things could not have gone any less than she planned it.

“You were gone for longer than usual,” she says by way of avoiding acknowledging her stress. There’s a bit of a pout in her voice, and she busies her hands with pouring more alcohol into the glass so that she doesn’t sound so pathetic when she adds, “I missed you.”

“You did?” His voice bleeds with amusement, the cat that ate the canary, as he noses her cheek. “Isolde missed me? Tried and true reptilian ice queen—”

“You know what? They can have you back.”

Michael flashes a grin at her. He’s sidled close, crowded her up pleasantly against the counter. “I missed you too.”

He’s close. Not as close as she’d like—their ritual of shucking his clothes the second he walks through her door after a long business trip so that she can drag him straight into the shower foregone in lieu of their guests—but close enough that when his nose brushes hers, she’s reminded that she hasn’t had the chance to kiss him in quite some time.

But when Michael leans in to kiss her, she tilts her head back, just out of his reach.

“How much,” she idles, their company forgotten, “did you miss me?”

“I had plans to show you,” he replies lowly, “you know, before I found out I’d have to behave.”

“You always have to behave.”

“When it’s so fun to have you scold me?” He tilts his head. “C’mon, doll, you know me better than that.”

Isolde’s eyes narrow playfully, and when she opens her mouth to respond the only thing stopping her from reminding him what happens when he decides to inspire a scolding out of her is the sound of the sliding door creeping open and her dad’s tentative voice.

“Soli?” His voice is light, coddling. “If now’s a bad time, you know you can tell us. We won’t mind.”

Oh, right. That.

“No, daddy, it’s fine,” she replies instantly, turning as Michael disengages from her to fetch another glass out of the cabinet. “I was just—”

“Debriefing,” Basir interjects, not unkindly, because he knows her. A smile crinkles the corner of his eyes, the gesture warming his expression. “Your mother is wondering if Michael needs help finding his bags in the kitchen.”

“Oh, we’ll get those later.” Isolde takes the last swallow of whiskey out of the glass she’s commandeered from Michael. “Out in a minute, just making a drink.”

“Should I give your mother your wine, then?”

“She’ll get more use of it than I will.”

He waves his hand, sliding the door shut again, and Michael sets his new glass next to hers.

“He seems nice,” is what he offers after a minute.

“He is nice,” Sol agrees, reaching up and patting Michael’s shoulder. “And you’re going to have ample opportunity to experience it for yourself.”

He grimaces—surely, in anxiety and not in detesting the incoming interaction—and presses a quick kiss to her temple.

“I can’t wait.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

All in all, it goes well.

Of course it goes well. Isolde knows that it will—even if the abrupt way the whole meeting has come about is enough to make her want to rip her hair out—but it’s still a comfort to watch it play out; Michael sitting on the couch close to her as she tucks her knees up beneath her on the floor and goads her father into playing her in a game of chess, Avery watching from the sidelines and her mother surveying with the same kind of amused, watchful gaze that she always does.

Isla asks Michael a lot of questions. She asks about his family, pleasantly gliding over it when it seems like he doesn’t want to express a lot about that particular subject, and what he does for work—another subject that he manages to delicately step through—and does he like living in Hope County? It’s very beautiful, has he ever wanted to live anywhere? Does he travel often for work? Is he an only child? Does he want children of his own?

“Mother,” Isolde scolds, pushing the black bishop into place. “Please do not interrogate Michael about if he wants to procreate with me or not.”

“Not you particularly,” her mother defends, “but just in general.”

“It’s important to know.” Basir frowns, watching as Isolde dispatches of his rook. “You should always be on the same page, you know.”

“Perhaps you should focus on this page we’re on now, before I checkmate you.”

He grumbles and takes a sip of his drink. Absently, Isolde reaches up behind her, fingers affectionately finding Michael’s as she studies the board.

“So,” Isla continues sweetly, “children?”

“Michael,” Isolde says, “you don’t have to answer.”

“I don’t mind,” he laughs, and when she looks at him over her shoulder with a scrutinizing gaze, he lifts his eyebrows. “I don’t mind.”

“Fine.”

“I don’t have a set number,” Michael allows, his fingers tangled with hers as she preoccupies herself with the chessboard. “I always think I’d be happiest with whatever my partner wants.”

“Good boy,” Basir praises, beaming. He waves a finger “You can always negotiate for a different number, but not if you try and set it in stone.”

Isolde sighs. “We will not be negotiating for children.”

“Why not? It could be fun.”

“You could make it a game,” Avery suggests, pulling the throw blanket more securely around her shoulders. “Soli picks the number, Michael coerces and negotiates.”

A laugh billows out of Mike behind her, and he says, “Nah, that’s too easy. I’d get whatever I wanted. Wouldn’t be any game.”

Isolde makes an indignant sound. It’s all play, because it’s cute that Michael thinks he can get whatever he wants when he wants it (and maybe there is a bit of truth to those words, but he doesn’t need to know the extent of his own power just yet). She squints at him.

“I’ve made men cry before, you know.” Michael mmhms at her. “Lots of men.”

“And I think that,” he agrees, giving her shoulder a little squeeze “is very attractive.”

“That’s what you want, my love,” Isla chides at her, coming to a stand and taking Sol’s glass out of her hands to carry it into the kitchen for refills. “Someone who likes even the most vicious parts of you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Later, Avery has retired to bed—buzzed from a single glass of wine, no less—and her mother is talking to her about how busy it’s been at work, but Isolde is wrapped up watching her father make big, dramatic hand gestures while he smokes outside with Michael. The scent of the clove cigarettes her father favors drift in from the screen door out to the porch, and paired with the sound of crickets chirping in the late evening, she feels a pang in her stomach; something like longing, or nostalgia, but for the moment she’s in right then and there.

Perhaps sadness, that it will come to a natural end.

Her mother’s fingers card through her hair affectionately. “You seem tired, beloved. You both do.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, he does this often,” Isolde replies, glancing away from where her father is perhaps two cigarettes deep into some story he almost certainly shouldn’t be telling Michael, flip-flopping between Turkish and English in his excitement. “Or he was, until whatever’s going on out there started happening. How does daddy manage to sit on a plane for something like nineteen hours and he’s got all that energy still?”

Her mother makes an amused noise, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and pulling herself into a stand, sighing. “He’s perpetually propelled by his love for you and your sister, I am sure.”

“That’s a nice way to say manic.”

“It’s nice seeing you happy,” her mother continues, glossing over what is only a true statement about her father’s frenetic energy. “For ourselves, I mean. It’s one thing for Avery to tell us about how happy he makes you—”

She snorts. “What a gossip.”

“—another entirely,” Isla interrupts, “to see it in real-time.” She brushes the hair away from Isolde’s face. “You were always prone to loneliness, my girl. Ever since you were a baby, you preferred it over our attention.”

The words make Isolde’s chest feel tight. Prone to loneliness is something that only her mother could say and it not be an insult, only an objective observation. Stinging harder still is the knowledge that most of the time, being around people does feel stifling to her—except with Michael.

Isla flashes her a smile and makes her way over to the screen door, sliding it open and leaning against the doorway. “Basir?”

She can see her mother’s caught her father right on the tail end, because he stops and looks at her with bright eyes. “Yes, my darling? I was telling Michael about that French ambassador who—”

“I am sure Michael would love to hear the end of the story in the morning,” her mother coaxes. “It’s late. Come to bed.”

“Oh, alright. If you don’t mind, Michael,” her father tacks on, looking back at Mike, “waiting for the end.”

Michael’s eyes flicker, meeting hers through the doorway, an easy, lopsided smile sliding onto his face. “Don’t mind at all.”

“First thing tomorrow, then. And,” Basir continues, ushering in after her mother, “I won’t keep you up anymore, darling. Come on, come on, bedtime.”

There’s more chatter like that as they exit, murmured goodnights and the aggressive bear hug from her father that comes when he’s had more than one shot of whiskey; Michael closes and locks the sliding door and makes his way to where Isolde is tucked up on the couch. As he settles in beside her, their fingers interlock on the back of the couch and she takes in a little breath.

Handsome. He’s painfully, excruciatingly handsome, maybe even more so because she just watched him weather the storm that is her parents, noisy and nosy but well-meaning. The sigh that he lets out when he’s settled on the couch makes her think that he’s finally letting a breath out he’s been holding, even though he’s got no reason to be stressed about her parents liking him.

“I like them,” he tells her. “Your dad’s funny.”

“Don’t let him hear you.” Isolde drapes her legs over his lap, setting her mostly-empty glass aside. “He’ll never stop trying out his jokes on you.”

Michael laughs and leans in to brush their noses together; he doesn’t go right for a kiss, not straight away, and there’s this little thread of anticipation that pulls on her heart when she remembers how long it’s been since she’s had a real kiss from him. Weeks. That’s something criminal, isn’t it?

“Haven’t kissed you,” she murmurs after a moment, “not proper, since you got back.”

“Well,” Michael coaxes, “what on earth are you waitin’ for, then?”

“Thought maybe you’d want to use your negotiation skills for more than a kiss.”

The brunette grins, leaning in the rest of the way to close the distance between them and kiss her; at last, at last, something inside of her says, relieved to have him there at last, and she reaches up with her free hand to tangle her fingers in his hair and keep him there.

There’s no rush to it. It’s an unhurried, leisurely re-mapping, re-familiarizing, though she hasn’t forgotten and neither has he. Isolde kisses him like he’s been gone for weeks and that he’s not ever going to leave for that long again, which isn’t true—but she can pretend, for a little while, that it is.

And it’s a little alarming, how her chest aches when she realizes how long he’s been gone, how much she’s missed having him around, how much she—

“I feel like,” he says against her mouth, between what are now sparse liplocks peppering his words, “maybe I don’t have to negotiate for more—”

“Michael,” Isolde hums sweetly, “shut up.”

“Boy, but you’re sexy when you boss me around.”

“I’m about to get a lot sexier if you don’t start kissing me like you mean it.”

He pulls back, that little smile still on his face, his arm sliding around her midsection to pull her more comfortably against him. But he doesn’t go back to kissing her; he trails his mouth along the slope of her jaw, and kisses the hollow below her ear before he says, “I always mean it when I kiss you, Soli.”

Oh, no, she thinks, her throat feeling tight. She’s not going to cry, that would be fucking stupid, and she’d rather fucking die before she lets Michael see a tear slip out of her—but it’s the same kind of feeling, the overwhelmingly bittersweet feeling knowing that this moment is going to end and she’ll have to remind herself of it, later.

“I know,” she replies, softer this time when she kisses him. “Now stop ruining the moment with your sappiness and pitch your deal to me already.”

“Alright,” Michael puffs, “three kids, get started on the first one now—”

She groans, but not without affection, and he hauls her up into his arms bridal style to begin carrying her back to the bedroom.

He says, pleasantly, “We could at least get some practice in.”

“Sure, baby,” Isolde murmurs, pressing her face into his neck. “Whatever you want.”

And she doesn’t have to see the smile to know he’s got it plastered on his face when he says, “Told you it’d be too easy.”

[pink-peony-princess]

From Unpredictability Comes Strength

Are you sure you're okay babe?" Shawn, my boyfriend asked as he walked over to the bed where I was currently laying curled up.

"I'm sure, still exhausted from the jet lag, and my period is giving me grief," I told him causing him to pout. Most girls my age would probably cringe at the thought of telling their boyfriend details about their period, but not me. See Shawn my boyfriend, my older brother Connor, and their friends Dave and Brian were all well respected doctors at the local hospital here in Toronto. That was part of reason for my moving from LA to Canada, I didn't want Shawn to loose such a good job, it was an added bonus that Bri and the other two guys also lived with us so I would get to see all of them.

"Okay," he agreed, though I could tell from the tone that he wasn't completely convinced.

"Call me if you need me, I get off at 6." he added before kissing my head and leaving the now empty house, the other having already left for the hospital.

Several hours later, and the pain just wasn't getting any better. I had always had bad periods. They were made especially bad though by a cyst that I had on my left ovary, something which when I asked my old doctor about she had told me that there was nothing that could be done short of some pain relief. I had tried everything though, hot packs, cold packs, a bath, even drinking green tea, (which I hated) to no avail. Finally I decided that I would try going for a short walk, as I heard that exercise could alleviate pain.

While on the walk I got a call from Shawn, "Babe come home, we all got off early so we're having a family dinner. " he spoke.

"Be there soon, I love you." I told him, before turning around and jogging home. As I went to cross the road, a dog came out of nowhere, and me being deathly afraid of them as I was tried to avoid it, by running the other way only to mis-step and fall directly into gravel. Unfortunately for me, I ended up skinning my knees and as I stood, groaning from the painful sting tht was now emanating from my limbs I realised there was dirt caught in them. Great, just great, I thought as I made my way home slowly, tears falling as I tried to ignore (and failed) how much pain I was in.

"Ana!" Brian called coming over to greet me with a hug. "How was your run?" He asked stepping back to look at me. "Wait, " He paused looking at me more closely. "Ana, you're crying, and bleeding, " he spoke as he looked me up and down before spotting my bloody knees.

" Shawn, " he called, looking over his shoulder to the kitchen where I could hear the other guys all laughing.

"Hi babe, " he started before noticing my knees as Brian had moments earlier and pouted.

"Let me see Princess," he spoke as he helped me into the kitchen and lifted me onto the bench.

"Aw, Poppet, what happend?" My brother asked when he saw me crying as Shawn gently examined my wounds.

"There was a dog." I shivered. I hated dogs except for Tarzan. "So I ran but I tripped." I hiccuped as I tried to slow my breathing.

"One Dr.Brian at your service," Bring sang as he reappeared holding the household first aid box, pulling out tweezers, antiseptic spray, gauze, tape, bandages, cream and pills. "I'm just going to remove the dirt, clean them and then I'll bandage them up. " He explained as he positioned my leg so the kitchen lights were directly above him. "Hold Shawn and Connor's hands for me okay, this will probably hurt."

He wasn't lying it feel like fire was being rubbed into my wounds, and I found myself biting my lip to try and stop myself from crying out loud.

"Nearly done hon," Brian soothed patting my leg as he washed out the last little bits of dirt. A minute later, he stepped back with a smile.

"The worst part is over now Princess," Shawn whispered in my ear, causing me to loosen my grip on their hands just a little. I still clung to them as Brian bandaged them up though, needing the physical contact.

"And you, my fair lady, are all finished," he smiled as he tucked the last bit of bandage in. "You'll need to get me or one of the guys to change it daily for three or so days, but other than that you'll be fine. "

"Thanks Brian," I whispered reaching to give him a hug.

"Ready to get down babe?" Shawn asked, going to grab my hands again.

"Can you just hold me for a minute?" I asked feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Of course. " He smiled before wrapping me in a warm embrace, and allowing me to rest my head in the crook of his neck. "Are you okay? " He asked when I sniffed.

"Mmm," My response was muffled, but they must have heard it because Connor was the next one to speak.

"Why are you so upset Bug?" he asked, using my childhood nickname.

"I don't know!" I cried. "I'm not sleeping because of the jet lag. I'm in pain and now this." I threw my hands up.

"Tell you what, " Connor started. "you have a shower then we'll have dinner and you and your other half-" he gestured to Shawn "can go have sappy cuddles on the couch. How does that sound?" He ruffled my hair softly as he spoke before returning to the cooking.

Fifteen minutes later, I came back down the stairs wearing one of Shawn's old Zeppelin shirts, it reaching my knees and drowning me, but I didn't care. It was comfortable, and it smelt like his aftershave.

"Feeling any better Princess?" he asked coming over and kissing my forehead

"A little," I spoke. Sighing as I leant into his hold. Truth was I was feeling less of the period pain and more of a sharp ache now. But I wasn't going to tell them that, all four of them would be swarming around me like sea gulls if I did.

"I'm hungry," I spoke stealing a piece of tomato that Connor had placed on the counter to add to the salad.

He merely glared at me playfully, but didn't say anymore.

Half an hour later and we were all sat at dinner, the boys all chatting amongst themselves about their work days, discussing patients and funding. While I just pushed my food around my plate, trying to ignore the now increasingly sharp pain radiating from my stomach.

"Ana are you okay?" Dave asked worriedly, watching as I pushed my plate away.

" I don't feel good." I spoke, before grimicing in pain as a particularly bad cramp took hold.

"Dont feel good how?" Shawn asked as he came over to where I was sitting, two seats down from him, bending down.

"Just make it stop." I groaned, reaching for my stomach.

"Make what stop Princess?" he asked, searching my face, and rubbing my leg trying to comfort me.

"The pain, it's like there's a knife there!" I cried, leaning into him and breathing heavily.

"Do you think you can stand up?" Brian asked, coming over to help Shawn support me as I slumped in my chair.

I stood slowly feeling extremely shaky before nearly collapsing as dizziness took over.

"Ana you went for a run right?" Dave asked, coming to stand by my side, taking my wrist so he could take my pulse.

I nodded my head, trying to slow my breathing as the room kept spinning.

"Shit, her pulse is racing, bring her over to the couch." He told Shawn before leaving the room.

Shawn and Dave both held me tightly as we moved slowly. I could barely lift my legs as every time I did pain took hold. "Okay, lay back babe," Shawn spoke as he helped me sit down, and situated me between his legs as he sat behind me.

"Right, Ana where is the pain?" Dave questioned coming to kneel down beside the couch.

"Right here, " I spoke pointing to my left side.

"I'm just going to feel," he spoke as he hiked my shirt up to just under my chest.

Everyone was quiet as Dave concentrated, moving around to press on different sections of my stomach. Finally he said "It is a bit swollen. Do you have any pain in your back or thighs? "

I looked back at Shawn,confused. "If the cyst on your ovary has ruptured or is close to, it can cause pain in the back and thighs," he explained, helping me to pull my shirt back down.

I nodded causing him sigh.

"We'll try some heat, maybe have a bath okay, the water may help to soothe it," Dave added before standing up and taking my wrist again. "Your heart rate is a little high, but we'll just keep an eye on you." He smiled,as Shawn scooped me up into his arms, and carried me up the stairs to our en suite.

"Arms up Princess, do you want bubbles?" he asked as he deposited me onto the closed toilet seat and helped me remove my clothing.

"Please?" I asked, watching as he grabbed my favourite bath lotion, and poured a generous amount in.

"Here we go. In you get," he spoke as he helped me into the tub The difference was almost immediate.

"I think it's time my little invalid gets out," Shawn whispered after about twenty minutes of me just laying back in the water, and letting him massage my scalp from where he sat next to the tub.

"Okay," I agreed, taking his hand as he helped me out of the bath slowly.

It was a slow process getting dressed, as I couldn't make any sudden movements, but Shawn was patient. "There," he said finally. "Snug as a bug, " He had not only redressed me into the shirt I had stolen from him, but had gone and gotten a sweater that he had left lying about and pulled it on me. "Can't have you getting cold little one," he laughed, before pecking my lips.

"It is freezing!" I agreed, as we made our way down the stairs.

"How's my patient?" Dave asked as Shawn placed me gently onto the sofa, covering me with a quilt.

"Sore," I replied, pouting, causing him to laugh.

"Here,this might help," Connor called walking in from the kitchen and placing a heating pad on my stomach.

"Thanks Con," I yawned, readjusting myself so that I could lay against Shawn's side as he squished onto the sofa beside me.

"Get some sleep babe," he whispered, "You need it." He didn't need to tell me twice, it was about three seconds and I was out like a light.

...

When I woke I wasn't sure what time it was, but I was no longer in the couch, instead Shawn had taken me up stairs and tucked me into the bed, and judging by the lack of light and the soft snores coming from Shawn as he slept soundly beside me, it was much later.

Unfortunately for me, there was no way that I was getting back to sleep any time soon, as the pain that had been uncomfortable, but bearable earlier was now causing me agony. So much so that I was literally feeling nauseous.

"Ana, are okay?" Shawn asked, talking into my neck, sleep thick in his muffled voice.

I didn't answer, trying to focus on not passing out.

"Ana," he sighed, as I just sat there crying grabbing fist fulls of sheet as each wave of pain came over me. Sitting up and switching on the lamp beside the bed, he rubbed my arm softly.

"Hold on I'll get the guys." He got up, before quickly exiting the room. A minute or so later I heard the sound of him knocking on the other's doors, and tired voices.

"It's worse? " Dave confirmed, walking into the room closely followed by Shawn,Brian and Connor.

"It never hurts this much, it's so bad!" I cried, pressing on my stomach, wanting the pain gone. I could feel a stronger wave of nausea just as Shawn bent down so that he was at my level, Connor coming to sit with me on the bed as he saw me gag, holding my hair back just in case.

" I'm gonna be sick!" I gasped holding my hand on my mouth, feeling the bile rise.

"Okay, just a second, Bri's gone to get a bucket bub," Shawn soothed coming to rub small circles in my back.

Finally just as I nearly let myself be sick on the bed, Connor spoke, "Here let it all out, " he soothed rubbing my back as Brian held a bucket beneath me that he must have bolted to get from somewhere. I was thankful though, as I could no longer hold it.

After a few minutes, I was able to catch my breath, though I still lay there sweaty and dazed.

"Here,come here Princess." Shawn motioned for me to shuffle over, so he could wipe my face down with a wet washer he had gone and gotten from out bathroom.

"I bleed on the bed," I cried, embarrassed as I shifted and felt the leak, before seeing the masive red stain on the once white sheet

" It's okay, it's normal to have heavy bleeding when a cyst is inflamed. Honestly, we see blood every day babe," Shawn soothed, as he pushed my messy hair out of my face "Besides, they're just sheets, worst case, we'll chuck them out."

"I feel horrible," I groaned letting my head fall onto Shawn's arms half an hour later, when even after a dose of strong pain killers I could barely move.

"Do you want to try sitting in the shower?" Brian suggested as he came back into the room after going to put the dirty sheets in the washer.

"Will it help?" I asked unsure.

"It might," Dave nodded, "The constant stream of warm water may help to loosen some of the muscles in your back and help with the pain and nausea. It's worth a try. "

"Okay," I agreed, watching as Dave stood up and came to stand at the side of the bed.

He held out a hand, helping to support me as Shawn pulled me into an upright position. The room spun a little, and I could feel myself swaying slightly but I managed to stay standing. "Just move very slowly, Ana, no sudden movements honey." Dave grimaced in sympathy as my face tensed with pain as I stepped forward. "

It's okay. We've got you. Breathe Ana. Just breathe," Shawn encouraged as we finally made it to the bathroom.

... Two hours later...

I had sat on the tiled floor of the shower cubicle for almost two hours now, yet nothing was changing and I was miserable. All I wanted to do was sleep. Shawn had sat with me the whole time, holding me gently under the water, not caring that his clothes were now soaked.

"Shawnie I feel dizzy," I told him trying to stay awake. "And my stomach is burning," I groaned, trying to ignore the hot feeling that was now taking over my tummy.

He took my wrist in his hand, before gently taking my pulse.

"Ana we need to go to the hospital honey," he spoke before leaning me against the glass door of the shower and standing up.

"No please can't you just do what you need to do here," I begged crying. I hated hospitals, and he knew it, it had been that way my entire 22 years of life.

"Shhh, calm down," he consoled before calling out to the others. "Dave, Brian, Connor!"

The looks of pity on all of their faces as they stepped into the room and took in my bedraggled state was too much for me to handle.

"Oh Ana, buddy. " Brian sighed, before bending down and helping Shawn to stand me up.

"We need to go to the hospital,she's dizzy her pulse is at 130 beats a minute, she's in more pain than before, she told me a minute ago that her stomach was burning, and she's bleeding more than she should be. I think it may have burst," he told the others as he wrapped a towel around my wet-clothed body.

"Burns," I whimpered as we made our way downstairs, me in my brother's arms, allowing Shawn to run and change into dry clothes.

I heard them muttering amongst themselves, not making out much more than medical word: inflammation and gastritis,and then I was tuning them out.

I couldn't help the tears as we made the short drive to the hospital, me laying across Connor and Shawn's laps.

"I know bub,we'll sort it out okay. But just focus in staying calm. The more upset you are, the worse you'll feel." Connor explained rubbing my stomach softly.

-Connor-

I felt horrible as I watched my little sister in pain, desperately clinging to Shawn as we pulled into the staff carpark. Luckily for us Shawn and I worked as critical care doctors in the ICU while Brian and Dave ran the ER, meaning we could just go straight in, not having to worry about admissions, and insurance just yet.

"I thought you were off tonight? It's been one hell of a night!" Nancy one of the nurses spoke as we walked in.

"We were, but Ana has a burst cyst," I spoke pointing to Shawn who held her in his arms as we walked towards the only available exam room.

Nancy frowned sympathetically, before walking back to the nurses station "You'll need to run it, no doctors available," she called.

Normally we won't treat relatives but she was high priority as as Nancy had said there was no one else there.

"Right Ana I need to run some tests honey, I'm going to get Shawn to change you into this," Dave spoke holding out a gown, as Shawn placed my sister onto the exam table gently.

Once that was done Dave came back over, setting up the portable ultra sound machine next to the bed.

"So I'm just going to put some gel on your stomach, and have a look okay. It might be a little uncomfortable so I apologise in advance."

She whimpered slightly, grabbing Shawn's hand as Dave pressed the wand down."

"I know I'm sorry, " he apologised as he continued to move it around, finally he stopped, zooming in.

"Here it is, you've got a burst cyst on your left ovary, that's why it's hurting so much. When you were running the exertion must have caused it to burst. It also looks as though you have evidence of gastritis too."

"What's that?" she asked looking to me for help.

"Its inflammation of the stomach lining, that's the burning you were feeling.We'll run some more tests though, just to be sure-"

He was interrupted as he spoke by one of the nurses poking her head around the curtin.

"Dr. Craigen would you be able to consult in triage?"

"No," He answered politely. "I'm currently busy looking after a personal patient."

Ana laughed once she had left. "Can you do that? Just ignore?"

"For you, yes, you're our most important patient." He winked. " Good news," he added, " There's no twist, so no surgery but it did burst, and you have lost some blood. So I would like to admit you so we can give you fluids and pain relief," he explained causing her nose to crinkle in distaste.

-Ana-

"Can Shawn stay?" I asked worried that I'd be stuck here by myself.

"I'm not going anywhere Princess," he reassured, me, coming to sit on the side of the bed with me.

Half an hour later and I'd been officially admitted and hooked up to a blood pressure machine, oximeter, and an I.V. with pain meds which was working wonders.

"How you feeling now princess?" Shawn asked, looking at the machines briefly before focusing his attention back to me. We were now the only two in the room, Brian and Connor having gone to the Cafeteria for much needed coffee, and Dave to check my previous file notes, not that I knew how he'd get a hold of them.

"I'm cold." I shivered, trying to burrow myself further into the too think blankets.

"Here, this should help," Shawn smiled, pulling one of his jumpers out of his bag and helping me into it.

There was a knock on the door, before Dave stepped into the room,a clipboard in hand. "Sorry to interupt guys." he apologised. "Ana, I need to ask you some routine questions," he spoke coming to sit next to the bed.

"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" he asked seriously.

I blushed, "Ummm no," I laughed hiding my face in Shawn's shoulder.

"Sorry,this is just as awkward for you as it is for me. Trust me I don't want to know the details of one of my best mates private this. But this important," he explained smiling sympathetically.

"Well, No, trust me," I laughed, just wanting to move on.

"Okay. Well I'm going to do a blood draw just to rule a couple things out. Make sure nothing additional is going on."

"The doctor basically told me there was nothing she could do," I told him, watching as he grabbed all the necessary supplies.

"Well now that you're over here Dave will take care of you princess," Shawn spoke kissing my head.

"You don't have to worry about a thing." Dave smiled before snapping on a pair of gloves and coming to sit next to me.

"Shawn move your fat bum so I can get this blood work done," he spoke, shoving Shawn off the bed with his hip where he had been sitting next to me.

"Sharp scratch Ana," he warned causing me to squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation. "Just stay nice and relaxed."

Several hours later,and nothing abnormal had shown up in my blood work, meaning that once my pain was under control I was free to go, however Dave did explain to me that he had seen evidence of gastritis as Connor had mentioned earlier a symptom of the strong medications I had been taking to manage my pain. I was prescribed an ant-acid, toldstay away from spicy food, and change medications to something a little less harsh.

"You also need to be on bed rest for a few days to give your stomach time to heal," Shawn had added, laughing when I whined in protest. He knew I hated being stuck immobile.

Days later I had been released on strict orders to rest, something which I reluctantly agreed to.

" I'm so glad your feeling better," Shawn said sitting next to me on the sofa, that had become my temporary home due to not being able to walk easily on my own.

"Well it wasn't exactly the way I wanted to spend my first few days here, but thank you guys," I spoke, looking to the other three who sat across from us. They all smiled. "Seriously. Hopefully this will be the start of a great new chapter! I can't wait to see what living in Canada brings," I shouted causing them all to laugh.

"What would I do without you babe?" Shawn chuckled, kissing me.

"I don't know, your life would certainly be more predictable though," I laughed, snuggling into his shoulder.

"But then life would be boring, besides from unpredictabiliy comes strength, and you Ana, are the strongest person I know," he smiled, kissing my temple and resting his head atop mine.

[ghost-town-story]

James dropped his suitcase with a heavy thud and a sigh. “Home sweet home, eh?” he asked, turning to Aiden.

Aiden laughed a little, carefully setting his bag next to James’s. “For you at least,” he said.

James rolled his eyes and held out his arms. “C’mere.”

Aiden went willingly, tucking his head under James’s chin as he hugged his boyfriend.

James sighed, nuzzling Aiden’s hair. “Fuck I’m jet lagged,” he mumbled.

“Bedtime then?” Aiden suggested.

James grumbled incoherently, then started to walk them towards his bed. Aiden laughed, clinging to James so he wouldn’t fall. He ended up regretting that decision the moment James started tipping over, making Aiden fall with him. Luckily, Aiden landed on the bed, though he had the breath driven out of him by James landing heavily on his chest.

“Snuggles,” James mumbled as he clung to Aiden.

“James, you’re suffocating me.”

James grumbled, but rolled off of Aiden without ever letting him go.

Aiden took a deep breath, grateful that he could now breath easily again. “Aren’t you going to change?” he asked.

“Don’t need to.”

“Jay, you’re still wearing jeans!”

“Yeah, and?”

Aiden slowly but surely wiggled his way out of James’s grip. “I’m not sleeping with you if you’re still wearing jeans,” he said, then stopped and covered his face with a groan. “You know what I mean.”

“Strip for sex?” The comment on its own was bad enough, but the smug little smirk James had was enough to push Aiden into the realm of no regret as he smacked James’s arm.

“No cuddles until you’re in pajamas,” he clarified.

“But Aiden,” James whined as Aiden finally wormed his way free.

“I’ll steal Will’s bed,” Aiden threatened.

“C’mon, that’s so unnecessary.”

“You know what’s unnecessary?”

“Are you gonna say sleeping in jeans?”

“Sleeping in jeans,” Aiden answered. “Now go change.”

James groaned, but reluctantly dragged himself upright. “Fine. But,” he added as he stood, “I want something from you.”

“Depends.” Aiden sat up to watch James. “What do you want?”

“What did you need to tell me?”

“What did I—oh.” Aiden took a deep breath, pointedly ignoring how his hands shook as he hugged his knees close. “Right. That.”

James glanced over at Aiden as he grabbed his pajamas. “You know I don’t like being pushy with stuff like this,” he said, “but it kinda sounded like you might need a little push.”

Aiden bit his lip. “You’re tired Jay. I can tell you in the morning.”

James scoffed, pausing halfway through changing to cross the room and kiss Aiden. “Your avoidance tactics won’t work on me,” he said with a smirk.

Aiden knew he was blushing hard as he shoved James away. “Go put on a shirt.”

“Aw, you know you like it.” James winked, but complied. “Anyways, I’m not going to sleep till you spill. So if you want me to sleep soon…”

“I feel like I’m being bribed, but not in a good way. Coerced? I don’t know, words are hard.”

“And you’re stalling,” James said.

Aiden groaned. “It can wait till morning Jay.”

“No avoidance. C’mon sweetheart, snuggles as soon as you say whatever it is.”

Aiden groaned, dropping his head on his knees. “Note to self, don’t tell Jay you have to tell him something, because he won’t leave it alone,” he mumbled, purposefully loud enough for James to hear him.

“Can’t guilt trip me. Too sleepy for it.” James grinned at Aiden before flopping down in bed again, fully clothed in pajamas.

Aiden didn’t look up from his lap.

“Hey.” James reached out and snagged one of Aiden’s hands to squeeze it. “Look, no matter what you’re gonna say, I’ll still love you.” James hesitated. “Well, actually—wait, never mind, not relevant.”

Aiden’s breath caught in his throat. “No, actually I want to know what would actually change your mind about me.”

“Aid, they all boil down to you admitting you’re an asshole, which you’re not, so you’ll be fine. Please. I want snuggles.”

Aiden let out a long breath, then squeezed James’s hand. “Fine.” He hesitated a moment longer, then closed his eyes and said, “I’m trans.”

He glanced at James out of the corner of his eye just in time to see James blink slowly. “Okay.” James tugged Aiden down next to him. “So, like, how do you want me to refer to you then? Do you have a new name picked out, or pronouns or whatever, I’m really too tired to think of what else—”

Aiden couldn’t help the startled laugh that burst out of him, accidentally cutting James off.

James gave him a look reminiscent of a lost puppy. “What?”

“You dork.” Aiden rolled over so he could lean on James’s chest. “I told you, Summer’s been trying to talk me into this confession for ages.”

James blinked up at him.

“I’ve already transitioned,” Aiden tried to clarify for him. “You’re doing perfect with how you refer to me.”

Another slow blink. “So… you transitioned before we met?” Aiden nodded. “Oh. Okay.”

“Is that—are you okay with this?” Aiden asked.

“Yeah, ‘course I am,” James said. “It’s just taking me a second to comprehend right now. Also realizing this is why you don’t like stripping even for cozy pants.”

“You and your cozy pants,” Aiden said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Hold up, I’m gonna go change before you decide to turn into a koala.”

“Rude,” James mumbled, trying to cling to Aiden even as he got up. Aiden just laughed and kissed him before escaping the bed.

“Hey Aiden?”

Aiden paused in the middle of pulling his pajamas out of his bag. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” James said. “You’re my adorable kick-ass boyfriend, no matter what.”

“Sappy dork.” Aiden briefly hid his face, simultaneously pleased and embarrassed by the compliment. “I love you too.”

“Now get that cute little ass of yours in bed with me.”

“Give me a minute.”

Said minute was spent changing and turning off the light before Aiden finally crawled back into bed with James.

He was hardly settled before James tugged him into a tight hug. “Love you,” he mumbled, half-asleep into the back of Aiden’s neck.

“Love you too. Goodnight James.”

James, already asleep, didn’t respond.

~

(And a bonus snippet for Magic that’s too short to deserve its own post imo)

As they watch the sun set, Malai has a thought. And apparently James and his spontaneity has rubbed off on him, so he leans down to where James is laying in his lap and murmurs, “What is love?” Then, as the full implications of what he just said hit him, he adds, “And don’t you dare start singing.”

“The lack of faith,” James laughs. He contemplates his answer for a moment, then sits up and twists to face Malai. “Magic,” he says, his eyes sparkling as he leans in to kiss Malai.

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 6]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the (TBD) name of the fic.

Chapter 1, chapter 2, and chapter 3 are under the cut.

I don’t have too much to do today, so this’ll be shorter.

Set Up

Chapter 1

The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d sat there staring at this report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.

 Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”

“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily.

Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and yeah, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe it was worth his money. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.

 He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended three hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.

“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.

“I’ll do it,” Remus said. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”

“You what?” Janus asked.

 ”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”

“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “Your lucky I haven’t reported you already.”

“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”

Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”

“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”

 Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.

He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.

“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’

 Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.

His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and into one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop tart popped out of the table.

 He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber pop tarts Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.

The 2510s were an odd set of years.

 He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.

 No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.

 As soon as he finished the poptart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.

 He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.

“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.

A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.

 Chapter 2

The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another poptart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the 1st saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.

Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.

 The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.

Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before.

 A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travels that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.

Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace.

 It was a fairly low stakes mission. He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.

Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.

 This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.

“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”

“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”

 “But-”

“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.

“May I come in?” Janus asked.

“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.

“Yes ma’am.”

She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”

“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.

“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.

“All green.”

“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”

“No.”

She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.

 The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slide copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out missing, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.

As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.

 She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. Your set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”

“How much-?” Remus started.

“None, agent,” Rhi said.

“But-”

“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”

“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.

She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”

 “I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”

“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”

“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”

“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”

“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”

“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.

 “If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.

“Kinky.”

Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.

They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.

 Janus’s own mask on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.

Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.

After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.

Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.

  Inciting Incident

Chapter 3

Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”

“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.

Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”

 Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”

Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”

“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”

“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.

 Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.

The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover that stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.

 He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”

Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.

“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!”

Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.

 Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.

There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose.

 The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.

“Are you alright?” Janus asked.

The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine Dove.”

“Dove?” Janus asked.

He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I am supposed to call you.”

 “My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.

“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”

“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”

The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”

“Hello Pat,” Janus said.

“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement.

 Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”

“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.

“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”

“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes.”

 He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”

Janus inclined his head.

“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”

He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.

 Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.

When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.

He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers and thank him happily before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.

 He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”

“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.

Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.

Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.

Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”

 “You did?”

“Oui, c'était amusant, mais j'ai eu des ennuis”

“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.

“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”

“And how do you help him.”

He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”

“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”

“You do look the type?”

“And how is that?”

   Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.

He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.

 “I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”

“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”

Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.

“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.

“Don’t,” warned Janus.

“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.

“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”

 “I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.

Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.

 He turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.

“What?” Janus said.

Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.

[lunavadash-creates]

I missed you too, my sweet cinnamon roll! 💕

It was a really rough week, wasn’t it? I was so exhausted yesterday that I fell asleep quite early and I was sleeping for 14h straight. I don’t remember when I was sleeping this much! My record is 17 hours, but it was after a trip to Korea. We had a really intense time there and I had jet lag. But now? I guess I really need a few days off. But I survived somehow. Maybe I had in mind the fact that you said that you won’t show me your new succulents if I don’t behave. And you know? I didn’t behave well! But I don’t feel bad about it. The guy I hate with passion came to the office. My manager told me that she feel sorry for him, because I have this strange disease that maybe my mouth doesn’t say I don’t like someone, but my face definitely does. And that I didn’t even try to be nice to him. But on the other side, how can you be nice to such an asshole.? I don’t even want to be nice to him.

What’s going on with this girl from uni? I mean, you were close friends with her? Or she is just your collegue from uni and you share the same lectures so you can’t avoid her? I am not sure how your relationship with her works. But if you have the same feeling about her as I have about my coworkers it must be really hard for you. I wish I could help somehow!

How are you feeling about starting another year at uni? Besides that one toxic person? How about lectures?

You know what? You inspired me with a photo of your windowsill! I thought about making something similar on mine. I have four glass cubes with pencils, pens, crayons and brushes in it and I thought about getting lithops succulents. I could put them between my stuff, just like you did with your plants and Buddha sculptures. The only problem is that I haven’t seen such succulents to buy in my area.

Thank you so much for all the recipes! Don’t worry about the fact they are with meat! I don’t eat it often, but I still eat it, so it’s not a problem at all. What kind of cheese do you put in your tortillas? And what about sauce?

Loads of love and hugs Babe! Please take care of yourself! 💕

🔪

HI BUBS! I'm so happy you survived that week. And yes I agree, it was... exhausting. I'm glad it's over. Honestly I'm tired of those toxic people so yeah, if you find him an asshole have no mercy. Just be yourself, do what you need and ignore him. Don't let the manager guilt trip you. "Im sorry for him my ass" About uni... well. I finished it, I'm done with her but she didn't take it well so I guess we will see how it goes. Because all i know is that she didn't tak it right and is all about "i wont be nice or neutral". Idk what she plans or wants to do and I dont care. Im tired, you know? So just... cut out the toxic people out of your life. Life is to short to be stuck with people that drains all your energy. I wasn't happy with her around, I was going back home sad and angry after every meeting. She's just not a type of person i want to have around. As for uni. I have new chinese teacher and so far she's really great! I'm curious to have more lectures with her actually! If you have free windowsill then so it! Make yourself a pretty, happy space that you will like to use or look at. If you can't find lithops you can also try search for "alive stones" its another name for them. And generally succulents are awesome! They look so pretty and don't require a lot of attention. It's a fine choice. About cheese. I use the simple, cheap cheese i have in a store. And sauce - I either buy some jalapeno, 1000 islands, mexican or something or make myself a garlic sauce. I mix greek yoghurt with 1tbsp mustard, mayo and horseradish, add some garlic or a tzatziki spice mix and voila. I hope you can make something nice! How are you? tell me more? and hows Luna?