#< unless the book has actually glaring problems in how it presented or handled things

[bluesey-182]

this review for the ballad of songbirds and snakes is going to be critical so if you loved this book and don't want to see that critique then you are welcome to skip this post. im willing to have civil conversation and im also very willing to hear other points of views bc i love discussing books (and who knows! maybe someone could change my mind) BUT if you're at all going to be nasty and/or take it personally, then you will likely be blocked.

im gonna be so honest... the ballad of songbirds and snakes was a decent book. but. i don't think it actually added anything to the overall story. it added some perspective, maybe, to how snow became snow but it also felt... pointless? i think if I'm going to get a villain origin story, i want it to make me feel conflicted, or at least somewhat understanding to how the villain turned out that way. i want it to show me the gray area. but this book just... didn't do it for me. none of it was surprising. and also, from the beginning, i didn't overall care that much to know what made him this way, because the end result was still the same, and nothing happened to change that feeling for me. bc the only way snow was interesting was how he was as the villain. there was nothing beyond that to interest me, and i think that's what this book was trying to use as the draw. and moreover, to expand on my opinion that it didn't add to the series: i think it relied solely on easter eggs from the original trilogy to make you think it was adding anything. like "see, look at this reference i made! doesn't it remind you of the original books?" idk. like i said, it's a DECENT book on it's own. the writing is good, the story itself isn't bad--it just also gives you no reason to invest in the main character, and i think to some degree that's something that's supposed to draw you into a book. and like i mentioned, nothing surprised me. i saw all of it coming. i predicted every twist before it happened. which isn't always a bad thing! but i was also mostly underwhelmed when the twists DID happen. i was hesitant to read this book in the first place, hence why im only reading it now after the movie release bc my partner wants to see it, and honestly? im not feeling like i gained anything from the experience. i had fun reading it bc, again, it's written fairly well, but at the end of it, im just feeling.... meh.

(spoilers ahead in this paragraph only) i at first thought the only thing it added was why snow dislikes the mockingjays but the more i consider it, it didn't really even add that much either. he was just creeped out by them??? hmm.... (unless, and this might be reaching, he hated the mockingjays bc they showed him his true feelings about lucy??? there's a line about how he was getting tired of her music and maybe the fact that the mockingjays repeated music instead of voice, like the jabberjays (which he had no problem with) was like... his true feelings coming through? I'll have to sit with that and see what i think)

i will say, the parallels between characters in this book and the original trilogy are interesting and i will enjoy seeing those analyses but, again, i don't really feel like it added anything. i still think snow would have done the exact same things without them. because he never ACTUALLY cared about anyone at all, except for how he could use them. how they made him look.

if anyone is interested in a star rating, i gave it 3/5 bc the reading experience was relatively enjoyable, and the writing itself was good imo, and as a stand alone story it was not bad but also not excellent. it was all "just okay". and im trying to rate this as it's own story, not as part of of the whole. however, it being part of that whole is what makes me feel so let down

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: Again, just a reminder that all the information I have about covid restrictions in Massachusetts is from google, not first hand experience, so if something seems wrong please just go with it.

Part Three

______

Part Four

If avoiding difficult conversations was an Olympic sport then it's pretty safe to say that I would have earned myself a gold medal by the end of the following week. It wasn't all that hard to do though as the exhaustion from parenting during a pandemic was hitting us both. Especially because the weather for the first couple of weeks of April was abysmal. It was cold, stormy and raining almost every day and we were all getting quite stir crazy from being inside constantly - especially our lively and spirited child.

So, it was a massive relief when the sun finally came out.

It was also a relief that it lined up with Grayson's third birthday.

He was going to have a very different birthday than previous years - as most people would over the next few months - but we wanted him to have fun and he was quickly tiring of all the indoor activities that we could come up with.

We set the living room up the night before after he'd gone to bed, putting up a birthday banner with several clusters of balloons, and there was quite the mountain of presents in the corner as most of our family members had sent their gifts in advance. I had hoped to wake up before him, but when I woke up to excited cheers and Dodger barking from downstairs, I knew I was too late. A quick glance at my phone told me that it was only six thirty, but clearly the excitement had gotten him up earlier than normal.

"Whoa, Dodger, Grayson, shhhh," I heard Chris warn the pair of them, his voice still raspy from sleep. "You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."

I smiled and quickly climbed out of bed. Chris wouldn't let him open any presents without me, I knew that, but I didn't want to keep him waiting for too long.

When I got downstairs, a very excited Grayson was bouncing on the couch as Chris sat next to him, watching him closely with a smile on his face.

"Happy birthday!" I cheered, catching his attention.

He sprang off the couch and bolted towards me.

"Thanks, Mama," He shouted, throwing his arms around my legs and looking up at me. "I'm three!"

"You are!" I smiled as I knelt down in front of him and pulled him into a hug. "You're such a big boy now."

He let me squeeze him for another moment or two before wiggling free.

"Can I open presents?"

Chris laughed at his clear priorities, shaking his head as I stood up.

"Let's just wait for Uncle Scott," he suggested before glancing up at me. "He's putting the coffee on."

"Very smart," I nodded. "I think we're all going to need plenty of that today."

Grayson proved my point by grabbing at his balloons and waving them frantically, setting Dodger off barking again.

"Dodge!" Chris scolded. "It's just a balloon, buddy. Chill."

The poor overwhelmed dog hung his head and came over to me for some sympathy. I happily obliged, cooing some comforting words and rubbing his back.

"Gray, leave the balloons, okay?" I requested. "I don't think Dodger likes them."

Grayson frowned, but instantly let go of the balloon in his hand.

"Sorry, Dodger."

"It sounds like we have quite the party in here already," Scott commented as he sauntered into the room. "Shall we see what's in some of these boxes?"

"Yes! Yes!" Grayson cheered, running over to the presents. "What first?"

"Whatever you want," I told him, smiling as I went to sit on the couch next to Chris. "Do you need some help?"

"No, I can do it!" He insisted, making a bee line for the biggest box and quickly ripping the paper off.

We watched as he opened gift after gift, an ear to ear grin on his face the whole time. Just as he was at Christmas, he was incredibly grateful for every present from the Paw Patrol Lookout Tower that was almost as tall as he was to the dinosaur books that were more educational than flashy and fun.

But there was one gift at the bottom of the pile that Chris wasn't particularly impressed by. The one that my brother had sent.

Grayson opened it, pulling out a t-shirt first.

"What does it say?" He asked, holding up the shirt towards us.

Chris' jaw dropped as I stifled my giggles and Scott burst out laughing.

"It says 'Team Iron Man'," I read. "Remember how Uncle Rob was in a movie with Daddy where they had a big fight? Iron Man was Uncle Rob's character and I think Uncle Jack wants you to be on that team."

"Oh," Grayson smiled. "Okay!"

"Okay?!" Chris protested. "You don't want to be on my team?"

Grayson shrugged as he pulled something else out of the box from my brother.

"Look!" He shouted, his excitement clear as he held up a very fancy electronic Iron Man helmet. "I love it!"

I wasn't even sure that he knew what it was as he hadn't seen any of the movies yet, but his enthusiasm compared to Chris' displeasure was killing Scott and I.

"Oh, it's such a shame that your brother wasted his money," Chris said, his words dripping with sarcasm as he had a forced look of pity on his face. "Those things are expensive and Grayson is never going to wear it."

"I'll wear it!"

Grayson's insistence was followed by him putting the helmet on his head and another howl of laughter came from Scott as a look of betrayal crossed Chris' face.

"Your brother is a jerk."

His words were quiet so Grayson wouldn't hear and I smiled.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "We're an Iron Man family..."

Chris shot me a glare, but turned his attention back to Gray.

"Well, if you don't want to be on my team then I guess I'll just have to find someone else to have the last present that I got for you..."

Chris was teasing, but Grayson whipped off the helmet faster than we could blink. He looked around, a puzzled expression on his face when he couldn't see anymore boxes on the floor and I shared his confusion as I wasn't aware of anymore gifts either. But the Evans brothers exchanged a knowing glance and I knew they were up to something.

"Maybe Miles would like it," Scott suggested. "He loves Captain America."

"Me too!" Grayson insisted, tossing the helmet aside as if it hadn't been his new prized possession moments ago. "He's my favourite!"

"Oh, is he now?" Chris laughed. "Doesn't take much to make you change your mind, does it?"

Grayson shook his head, oblivious to the fact that he was being teased, but Chris didn't torture him for too long.

"Alright, do you want to see what it is?"

"Yes, I do!"

Grayson leapt up, bouncing up and down with excitement, making Chris laugh as he stood up from the couch.

"C'mon then," he told Grayson, nodding his head towards the door. "It's this way."

Grayson scurried after his dad and I followed, my own curiosity piqued as well.

"What is it?" I asked Scott, but he just shot me a smirk.

"You'll see in a second."

I narrowed my eyes at his secrets and paused at the front door where Chris was waiting for us, his hand on the door knob as Grayson practically vibrated with excitement.

"Okay, close your eyes," Chris instructed. "No peeking!"

"I won't, I won't!"

Grayson covered his eyes as an extra assurance and Chris' grin widened even more as he swung open the door. I put my hands on Grayson's shoulders and guided him through it, seeing a shiny blue bike with a big bow on the handlebars. I felt a flash of worry at all the potential ways for Grayson to get hurt riding it, but there was no time to dwell on that as Chris told him to open his eyes and he gasped with excitement.

"A bike!" He squealed with joy, leaping off the doorstep and running towards it.

He circled it for a moment as if he was really trying to take it all in while I looked up at Chris.

"There better be a helmet with this present," I warned him. "I'm already imagining broken bones and missing teeth."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me with a chuckle. "It has training wheels, but of course I got him a helmet."

I opened my mouth, ready to share some more potential disasters that could come from this - because even with training wheels he could still fall off or lose control and crash into a tree - but Grayson cut me off.

"Help me, Daddy! Help me!"

He was trying to climb onto the seat, but as I took in the sight of him barefoot in his pyjamas standing in the driveway, I stopped Chris as he moved towards him.

"Wait, why don't we have breakfast first?" I suggested. "We have all day to play on your bike, but you're not dressed or even wearing shoes..."

Grayson's face fell and I felt bad being the mean parent, but Chris nodded in agreement.

"Your Ma's right, Gray," he told him. "Let's go get ready and then we can come right back outside, okay?"

Grayson looked sulky, but reluctantly agreed as he walked back over to us.

"Hey now," Scott said, catching his attention. "No pouting on your birthday! We've got some chocolate chip pancakes to make! Unless that sad face means you don't want them anymore?"

His previous smile slid instantly back onto his face at the promise of such a sugary breakfast and the pep returned to his step as he grabbed Scott's hand before dragging him into the house.

-

I had no evidence to prove my theory, but by the time breakfast was over, I was almost certain that it would have been more relaxing to be in the middle of a hurricane. There was pancake batter all over the room and we practically had to pin Grayson to his chair to stop him from sprinting around the room with food in his mouth. It was a miracle that he got through the meal without choking.

It was impossible to be mad though when he was having such a good time. He'd had so much to adjust to lately, seeing him happy on his birthday was all that I wanted and I was willing to put up with a little more chaos than normal if it made that happen. Within reason, of course. I did stop him when he suggested that we put the entire bag of chocolate chips in the pancake batter and I did make him help me clean them up when he dumped them on the floor in protest of my ridiculous restrictions.

Once the breakfast circus was over, Chris whisked him off to get him ready to play outside while I helped Scott clean up the kitchen before going upstairs to shower and get ready myself.

When I came back down almost an hour later, I felt considerably less frazzled, but the sound of excited squeals and giggles echoing from outside told me the energy levels hadn't died down much. It really was a relief that he was having such a nice day though so I braced myself for more chaos and headed out to find them.

The sight that greeted me melted my heart completely.

Chris was running backwards across the driveway as Grayson rode towards him. He shouted encouragement the entire time, reminding him to keep pedaling and to look where he was going and cheering as Grayson rode past him before turning around and circling back.

"Look, Mama!" He shouted to me as he spotted me by the door. "I'm doing it!"

"You are, baby!" I smiled. "Good job!"

I sat on the doorstep and watched him ride in circles, proud of how fast he'd figured it out, but after a few moments, my attention turned to Chris.

There were few times since I'd known him when I'd seen him look as happy as he did in that moment. When Grayson was born, when he took his first steps and when he first said 'Dada' were probably the only comparable moments I could think of. He looked absolutely gleeful as he chased after Grayson, laughing as he passed him before dodging a different way and waiting for Gray to catch up before bolting off again. The sound of their giggles and shouts filled my heart so much that it genuinely felt like it was about to burst out of my chest and a feeling of contentedness hit me so hard that it almost knocked over.

It was a feeling that told me that they were all I ever needed. Those two boys, making each other dizzy as they ran in circles. Their happiness and love was all I could ever hope to have and moments like these were all I ever wanted to see. I wanted us to spend every weekend soaking in this kind of joy. I didn't want to fight and argue and transport Grayson back and forth every other week. I wanted to give Grayson what he deserved, I wanted us to be a family.

But as fast as that clarity hit me, the knots in my stomach were there to remind me that it wasn't just about what I wanted. It wasn't about what would bring us the most moments of delight, it was about what would provide Grayson with the most stability and being a family might do more harm to that goal than good.

It was a constant battle between my heart and my head, but I was starting to realize that my head was losing. I was clinging to my resistance with all I had, but it was slipping away. I knew I needed to talk to Chris, to sort out the fog in my brain, but for the time being, I pushed it out of my mind. This was Grayson's day and we didn't have time for anymore heart-wrenching conversations.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Scott appeared from the side of the house on roller blades and the unexpected sight pulled a laugh from my lips as he sailed past Chris and Grayson and headed down the driveway.

"Gray, follow me!"

Gray nodded, frantically pedaling to catch up with his uncle as they sped off down the long drive. Chris watched them for a minute before jogging over to me.

"He got it so fast," he puffed as he fought to catch his breath. "He's a natural."

"The training wheels help," I pointed out, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up at him. "But it's fine because he'll be keeping those on until he's at least eighteen."

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

"No way," he smirked. "We'll have them off by next week."

"Not a chance. I need at least six months to get used to that idea."

"How about we meet in the middle and aim for three?"

"Hmm, maybe," I bit back a smile. "We'll have to see how many injuries he gets with the training wheels on first."

"He'll be fine. He's a champ," Chris grinned proudly. "We've got a pretty great kid."

"We do," I patted the step next to me as I made room for Chris to sit down. "I can't believe he's already three."

Chris accepted my silent invitation and sat down next to me.

"I know," he sighed. "It feels like just yesterday that he was born..."

"He was so tiny," I reminisced. "And you had those huge Captain America muscles."

Chris laughed as he nodded at the memory.

"I was so scared to hold him in case I accidentally crushed him."

"I was so scared of everything," I admitted. "It wasn't until he was actually born that it really hit me that we were completely responsible for his well-being and keeping him alive."

"We've done well with that though!"

"We have," I agreed with a smile. "He's alive and thriving."

"We make a good team."

He flashed me a warm smile that made my heart beat stutter and it almost stopped completely when he stretched out a hand and placed it on mine. His touch was gentle and the warmth of his skin flooded through me even more than the sun streaming down on us. It was a simple gesture, but it eased the heaviness that had been hovering between us lately and I was grateful. I carefully flipped my hand over so our palms pressed together and let our fingers interlace. His smile widened as he looked back out at the driveway, his eyes settling on Grayson in the distance who was laughing at something Scott said.

"Thank you," Chris sighed, his voice quiet and filled with genuine appreciation. "I don't think I've ever said it, but thank you for making me a dad."

His words almost brought tears to my eyes, but I shook my head.

"Chris, you don't need to than-"

"I do," he insisted, cutting me off. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me and he wouldn't be here without you."

"I could say the same," I pointed out, trying to ignore the way his thumb was stroking the back of my hand. "He gets most of his good traits from you too. His kind heart, his sensitive little soul, his loyalty."

"His infuriating stubbornness."

"He gets that from both of us," I smiled. "He didn't stand a chance with that one."

"Well, I hope he gets some of your selflessness," Chris informed me, glancing over and looking a tad sheepish. "Because, as much as I disagree with it and I wish you'd be a little selfish, I get that you're trying to look out for him."

I felt my palms start to sweat and I wondered if he could feel it. I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away from his, trying to play it cooler than I felt. He was watching me closely as I mulled over his words until I found the strength to speak.

"I'm not so sure that it's just him that I'm trying to look out for," I admitted, exhaling a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.  "I do think we have more to talk about, Chris, but I don't think this is the right time."

"You're right," he nodded. "I just felt like I owed you an apology after the other night. I let my feelings get the best of me and I came across a little harsh."

I was about to reassure him that he hadn't when the sound of honking interrupted our conversation. Our attention was pulled to the end of the driveway where two cars - belonging to Chris' mom and his sister - were pulling in as Scott moved Grayson and Dodger off to the side to let them past.

"Did you know they were coming?" I asked, surprised by the little motorcade.

"Nah, I had no idea," Chris shrugged. "We'll stay outside though, keep our distance."

I wasn't worried about that really, I knew all of Chris' family were staying very isolated and being smart about staying safe and we were technically allowed to have outdoor gatherings of up to ten people anyway with the current rules in place. I was surprised to see them though as we'd warned Grayson that he would only get to see most of his family over FaceTime. His excitement at that being untrue was clear as he frantically pedaled back up the driveway to greet his guests.

"Mama! Daddy! Look!"

I let Chris' hand fall away from mine as we stood, smiling at Grayson's excitement as everyone started getting out of their cars. They burst into a rousing chorus of 'Happy Birthday' making Gray's grin grow even more.

"Happy birthday, Grayson!" Lisa beamed as Grayson ran towards her full speed. He threw his arms around her legs before we could even remind him to keep his distance, but Lisa seemed unbothered by it. "Have you had a good day so far?"

"Yes!" Gray smiled up at her. "I got a bike!"

"I saw that!" Lisa matched his enthusiasm. "You're a lucky boy!"

Grayson shot her another smile before turning his attention to his cousins.

"Wanna try?"

His older cousins were probably too big, but Stella's hand shot up first and beat them to it anyway.

"That's really nice of you to share," I called over to Grayson. "But share your helmet too, okay?"

He nodded and struggled with the clip for a few minutes before Lisa helped him take it off and placed it on her granddaughter's head.

Once they were all happy, chasing Stella and Dodger around the drive way, the adults moved over towards us. Lisa was the first to speak, a guilty look on her face.

"I hope you don't mind us just showing up like this, but we couldn't stay away on his birthday..."

"It's great!" Chris assured her. "Don't worry about it."

"And Grayson seems thrilled," I added. "It's nice for him to have other kids to run around with for a bit."

We all turned to watch them as they played until Carly let out a laugh.

"Are Grayson's shoes on the wrong feet?"

I hadn't even noticed, but I laughed as well when I realized that she was right.

"Some days just getting him in shoes at all is a victory," Chris defended himself. "And today was one of those days."

"He's like the energizer bunny this morning," Scott joked. "I can't imagine what he'll be like after we get some cake into him."

"Just think how well he'll sleep tonight," Carly pointed out. "He has to crash eventually."

"I hope so," Chris smiled. "He had me up at six o'clock this morning, I need an early night."

That earned a laugh from the group as his siblings teased him about being such an old man, but I felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing that he'd been up early with Grayson a lot lately. Maybe it was because we were at his house so it was what Gray was used to, but Chris was definitely the favourite for the early morning wake up call.

We stood in our little circle for a while, just catching up as we watched the kids, all of us enjoying conversation with someone other than the people we were locked up with twenty-four hours a day. It was nice for me to have some female company as well even though Lisa was very pleased to hear that her boys were pulling their weight around the house and not just treating me like some kind of live-in maid.

It didn't take long for the kids to get tired of sharing the bike, especially the older boys who were too big for it anyway, and soon they were swarming around us demanding that we all play a game. After being cooped up for so long, it didn't seem like a bad idea to get us all moving around a little so we agreed and set about the daunting task of finding something everyone was willing to play.

Eventually, we settled on capture the flag - girls against boys. Lisa decided she'd make a better referee than a player so the boys team had one extra member, but they had three children to our one so it hardly seemed like the extra person would cause any unbalance. 

The rules of the game were simple: each team had three flags in our 'end zone' at opposite ends of the large grassy part of Chris' yard and the other team had to try to steal those flags. We had to grab it and run it all the way back to our own end zone to score a point, but once it was safely 'captured' it couldn't be stolen back. If someone managed to snatch a flag, but was tagged on their way back to their end zone then they had to give the flag back.

Lisa was very firm in reminding her children that tackling was not allowed as the Evans siblings were fiercely competitive and it had apparently led to trouble over the years. Once the rules were all set, we took our places and started the game.

The teams were fairly evenly matched. The boys had more strength, but we had more agility and were much better at communicating and working together which led to us easily scoring the first point. While Stella distracted Scott, Carly snuck past him to snatch the flag and she tossed it to Shanna who faked a pass to Stella before throwing it to me to get it to the safe zone. It was a beautifully executed play that showed the boys we weren't messing around.

"Oh, it's on now," Chris called out as he sprinted past me.

Shanna bolted after him, but he managed to grab the flag and throw it to Ethan before she caught up. With all the other boys guarding him, he made it all the way back to their end zone without getting tagged.

"I think having a super soldier on your team is an unfair advantage ," Carly huffed, but Chris shook his head with a smirk.

"Nah, because we have Scott too so it balances out."

"Hey!" Scott protested. "I'll switch teams if you're going to be rude!"

Stella jumped for joy at that idea, pleading with him to come onto our side, but the rest of the boys voiced their protests and he decided that, as long as there was no more hurtful comments, he would stick to his team for now. I used their bickering as a distraction though as I snuck closer towards their unguarded flags. I managed to grab one before Scott noticed and called out a warning to the rest of his team, but when I took off running and Grayson charged towards me, I didn't have the heart to out run him on his special day. I slowed down enough that he wouldn't realize I was letting him win and groaned dramatically as he tagged me, making me give up the flag.

"I did it!" He cheered. "Daddy! Did you see? I did it!"

Stella had a disappointed scowl on her face, but everyone else was understanding as they watched Chris scoop him up onto his shoulders, chanting his name as if he'd just won the World Cup while he carried him back to replace the flag.

Their celebration was short-lived though as we managed to steal the flag again almost as soon as Chris and Grayson were far enough away from it. After another perfectly executed play, the score was sitting at 2-1 for us. The pressure was on after that as we only needed one more point to win, it ramped up the competitive spirit.

We were off to a great start in the next round. Shanna got the flag quickly, but Scott had her cornered almost immediately so she tossed it to me. I got about ten steps before Chris was on my heels and I was forced to throw it over to Carly. Chris turned and went to chase after her instead and without even thinking, I leapt on his back to stop him.

"Hey!" He protested, slowing to a stop despite how he was clearly unaffected by my weight. "Is anyone seeing this? This has got to be a foul! She tackled me!"

"I did not tackle you!" I insisted, clinging to his shoulders with my legs wrapped around his waist. "If it was a tackle, you'd be on the ground."

Chris wiggled around, trying to throw me off his back as Carly sauntered into our end zone with the flag.

"The only reason I'm not on the ground is because you're too weak," Chris argued before shouting to his mom. "That doesn't count!

"No, Mama," Grayson joined in, running over to us looking very disapproving. "No cheating!"

I laughed, but slid down from Chris' back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" I held my hands up as I apologized. "I can't outrun Captain America, I had no choice!"

"Well, now you lost the point," Chris teased me, shoving me playfully and making me stumble a step away from him. "So, lets keep it fair and stop trying to cheat."

I swatted back at him as I stuck out my tongue while Lisa made the official call that the point didn't count and Scott took the recently captured flag back to the boy's end zone.

Chris had a new twinkle in his eye as the next round started. He hadn't let me get very far away from him and I quickly realized that I'd made a mistake by antagonizing him. I would be useless to my team if he was on my tail the whole time, but he was a tank and incredibly fast so getting away from him was next to impossible. I watched helplessly as Scott and Miles easily took our flag and dashed it back to their end zone to tie the score.

"Chris!" I whined as I tried to get around him like I was a cornered puppy, trying not to get caught. "Get away from me, you big oaf!"

"Oh, wow," Chris chuckled. "Let's not start calling names and being mean."

I tried to dart past him again, but groaned as he blocked my path.

"You're infuriating!"

"It's all part of the game."

The smirk on Chris' face had my competitive side firing up as I could see behind him that Miles had snatched our last flag. Stella was hot on his heels though, so he had no choice, but to pass to Grayson who was coming our way. Was I going to stop my three year old son from scoring the game winning point on his birthday? Probably not. But I had to at least make my attempt genuine so I came up with a plan.

"Is that..." I squinted off into the distance on the other side of the yard. "Is that Dodger chasing a cat?"

My Oscar worthy performance had Chris spinning around to check out what I saw and it gave me enough time to bolt away towards Grayson who wasn't far away from winning the game for his team. I made it an impressive five steps before Chris figured out what I'd done and came after me. Grayson saw what was happening and dodged to the left so I followed, but my change of direction gave Chris an opportunity. The next thing I knew, I felt a crash against my hips before I was lifted from the ground and found myself dangling over Chris' shoulder.

I let out a squeal of surprise as I kicked my legs, trying to get down, but Chris had a tight grip on me and there was no getting away. The ease with which he threw me around wasn't at all distracting and there wasn't a single part of me that was revelling in his strength. Not at all.

"This is absolutely a tackle!" I protested, focusing my mind back onto my predicament. "Put me down!"

"If this was a tackle, you'd be on the ground," he mocked me. "This is payback."

I had a nice view, my head only inches above 'America's ass' so, swept up in the moment of playfulness between us, I reached down and gave it a smack. He yelped and jumped, shaking me as he did.

"Chris! Put me down!"

My demands were weakened by the giggles that I couldn't hold back, but thankfully Scott stepped in to help me regain some dignity.

"Alright, you two," he called over. "Can we get back to the game now or would you like us all to give you some time alone?"

A blush covered my cheeks as I remembered that his entire family was around us and was relieved when he lowered me to the ground.

"Games over," Chris called back. "Grayson scored!"

Grayson jumped up and down happily, but Stella had a scowl on her face.

"Nuh uh! When Whitney tackled you, it didn't count!" She pointed out. "Grayson's point doesn't count too!"

The joy on Grayson's face fell into a look of anger as he stomped his foot at his cousin’s claim.

"It does!" He insisted. "I did it!"

"Now look what you've done," I playfully scolded Chris quietly before shouting to the rest of the group. "I think we're going to have to let them have the point, ladies. I wouldn't have been able to catch up to Grayson even if Chris didn't cheat..."

Stella's jaw dropped in clear shock that I hadn't supported her protests, but to stop the war before it could start, Chris chimed in.

"Grayson didn't need my help to score that point, I shouldn't have interfered," he started. "But why don't we call it a game and go have some cake?!"

The promise of sugar seemed to quash any animosity between the teams as all the kids let out a shriek of approval at that suggestion and took off running back to the house.

"Oh, yes," Carly sighed. "Because what my children clearly need right now is more energy..."

"It's Gray's birthday," Chris shrugged with a smile as we all followed the children at a much more reasonable pace. "We have to have cake!"

"And if it wasn't his birthday then I wouldn't have let you win."

My taunting earned a bark of laughter from Chris.

"Let us win? Yeah, sure, okay. You just keep telling yourself that you're faster and stronger than me," he teased. "Whatever makes you feel better."

I shoved him, but he was braced for it and I ended up more affected by the impact than him which proved his point, putting a smirk on his face.

"Asshole," I muttered as I shook my head, but I couldn't hold back a smile at how nice our affectionate teasing felt.

-

By the end of the day, we were all exhausted. It had been a fun and very special day for Grayson so we were thrilled for him, but exhausted nonetheless. Gray fought his bedtime with all the will power he had, eager for the day to go on just a little bit longer, but we won out in the end and he made it to bed on time. Scott had gone to his own room while we were fighting with him and Chris and I parted ways shortly after to get some much needed quiet time of our own.

I found myself distracted though, when I was finally alone, as the importance of the day had me feeling sentimental. Watching Grayson grow up and hit these milestones was a joy, but it left me feeling a bit reminiscent of the years gone by. Years when he was even smaller than he was now, just starting to figure out the world and how to speak, walk and be a part of it. The time was really flying by and as I began to scroll through old videos of his first year of life, the nostalgia was almost too much to bear.

Eventually, I stumbled on a video that had distinct parallels of today.

It was a video of Grayson's first birthday when we'd given him his own little cake and let him go to town on it. Of course, as many babies do, he'd stared at it for a moment before smashing his face directly into it. It was adorable and tugged on my heart strings considering how comparatively neat his cake consumption was earlier that day. He'd grown so much in such a short time and I felt compelled to share my discovery with Chris so I dragged myself out of bed and crept down to his room.

There was a fluttering of nerves in my stomach as I knocked on his bedroom door, the feeling only growing as he called out an invitation to come inside. I did as he'd asked and let myself in, finding him leaning back against the headboard of his bed - wearing nothing but his pajama pants - with his own phone in his hand.

"Hey," he smiled. "What's up?"

"I found a video," I told him, standing awkwardly near the foot of his bed. "I was feeling a little sad about how fast Gray is growing up so I was looking back, watching old videos and I found one that I thought you might like to see."

Chris’ smile widened and he eagerly patted the bed next to him, encouraging me to sit. I took him up on his offer and settled in as I unlocked my phone and started the video.

"He was so little..."

Chris' observation came as the camera settled on Gray where he sat in his high chair. Chris was right next to him, a grin on his face as he chatted happily to our son despite the nonsense babble that he got in response. I appeared on the screen after a few moments, carrying a tiny cake as everyone started to sing Happy Birthday. Grayson had a look of confusion on his face as he looked around at the crowd, but his eyes widened when the cake was placed in front of him.

"Go on, Gray," I prompted once the singing had stopped. "You can taste it."

He needed no more encouragement and simply face planted right into it, popping up a moment later with blue icing from the tops of his eyebrows to the bottom of his chin. He had a huge, cheeky grin on his face as he looked at us and, just as he did in the video, Chris laughed next to me.

"Oh, man, it kills you, doesn't it?" He questioned before clarifying. "How cute he is."

I hadn't realized that Chris' arm had found its way behind me when he leaned in to watch until I felt his breath on my hair as he spoke and I couldn't resist leaning back, tucking myself under his shoulder. The whole day, the knowledge that my baby was growing up, had me needing some comfort. It was exciting, to see him learn and shift from a baby to a little person, but at the same time, I felt the overwhelming urge for time to stop.

"It does," I agreed, letting my phone fall to the bed beside me. "I can't believe how much he's changed since then."

"In some ways," Chris agreed, looking down at me with a smirk. "In others, he's still that goofy, reckless baby."

"If he's anything like you, he'll probably never grow out of being goofy and reckless."

I felt Chris' shoulders shake as he chuckled at my teasing and I was reminded of the last time we'd been cuddled up, in a similar position to this, in his bed. I felt a flood of warmth run through my body at the memory as I was suddenly aware of how close we were, aware of how good he smelt and how strong his hard muscled arm felt as I leaned against it.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I meant it as one," I assured him. "I like that you're goofy. Your recklessness used to give me anxiety sometimes, when you'd always insist that you just had to do your own stunts on Captain America as if you really thought you were a super soldier, but I like that you're willing to take risks."

"Awe, gee, Whitney," he teased, squeezing me closer against him. "It was nice of you to worry about me."

"Of course I worried," I rolled my eyes. "Your muscles are bigger than your brain sometimes."

"Not anymore..." Chris held up the arm that wasn't currently around me and flexed his muscles, showing off a bicep that was still much larger than most even if it wasn't quite up to the Avengers standard. "I'm out of shape."

Against my own best interest, I turned slightly, letting my hand drift up towards his arm as my head fell against his chest. I traced over the bulging muscle and watched as tiny goosebumps rose up on his skin at the sensation. Skin that felt so soft under my touch and I felt his breath shift as he clearly felt the mood between us change the same way that I did. I felt emboldened by how amorous our emotional day had left me as I let my head tip back to find him looking down at me with the same intensity he had a few months ago.

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't help myself. Despite every alarm bell going off inside my brain, I stretched up just enough to press my lips against his. For a moment, he relaxed. His shoulders dropped as my fingers curled around the arm they were just stroking, but then suddenly his entire body tensed as if he'd been shocked by a bolt of electricity. He jerked away, sliding out from under me and off the bed before I could even realize what was happening.

"No," he said firmly, pointing his finger at me the same way he did to Dodger when he was being naughty. "No, no, we're not doing this again. Not until we talk about it what's going on here."

I felt the sting of rejection so harshly that it almost brought tears to my eyes, but I knew he was right.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked out, my cheeks burning. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that."

My voice was shaking as I scrambled to stand up, the stunned look on Chris' face only adding to my embarrassment. We stood there, staring at each other with the bed between us, but he didn't speak and after a few moments of silence, my shame was overwhelming, kicking my flight instincts into gear.

"I'll go," I mumbled. "Sorry again."

I didn't wait for a response before darting towards the door, but Chris' voice stopped me before I could make my escape.

"Whitney, stop." He didn't shout, but his tone was firm and demanding enough that I froze on the spot. "We need to talk about this. We can't keep going on with it hanging above our heads."

I turned to face him, discovering that he'd moved closer and was standing by the foot of the bed. He was still a few feet away from me, but close enough that it felt almost suffocating and I bit my lip as I stared at his feet, unable to look him in the eye.

"I don't know what to say..."

"I can take it," he insisted, a hint of resignation in voice as he continued. "You've had plenty of time to think it over since our last conversation and you said earlier today that we needed to talk. If you're gonna turn me down, put whatever this is to bed, just do it now and get it over with."

I furrowed my brow in confusion at his words, my heart beating in my chest so fast that I could hear the blood pumping through my ears.

"Turn you down?" I questioned. "Why do you think I'm going to turn you down? I just kissed you."

"That didn't mean much at Christmas."

He had a very valid point and I felt another pang of guilt at how badly I was treating him. I was hot and cold, affectionate and withdrawn, unwavering in my decision one minute and unsteady the next. I hadn't spared much thought to how cruel that was and now that I'd realized, I couldn't hold back the frustrated groan that fell from my lips.

"I don't know what to do, Chris! I think I know what the right decision is. It's what always felt like the safer choice, but then there are times when that's just..." I paused, taking in a deep breath to work up a dash of courage. "It's not what I want."

Chris watched me closely as if choosing his next words very carefully.

"If the safer choice isn't what you want then it sounds like maybe you need to take a risk. You can't live your life making decisions out of fear."

My eyes narrowed. He was over simplifying the situation. That way of thinking might work if it was just the two of us, but with Gray in the middle, things were more complicated.

"It's not that straight forward."

I shook my head as I spoke, but Chris countered with a nod.

"Sure, it is," he shrugged before asking a question that almost stopped my heart. "Do you love me?"

I stared at him, opening my mouth to speak and then closing it again when the words didn't come. I stood there, gaping at him like some kind of ridiculous puffer fish, until I finally got a word out.

"What?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face at my floundering as he repeated the question.

"Do you love me?" He asked. "And don't say it doesn't matter or it's not important. Just yes or no."

I stared at him for a moment longer as a war between my head and heart raged inside me. Deny, deny, deny was what my head was screaming, but in the end the quiet reminder of now or never from my heart was what won out.

"Yes, I do," I admitted, proud of my voice for not breaking. "I always have."

There was a grin on Chris' face now, but my stomach churned because it didn't mean anything. As I said, I'd loved him all along and yet here we were, no better off.

"That's all that matters then," he insisted. "We can figure out the rest."

"But what if we can't figure it out?" I protested, crossing my arms as if I could somehow fold into myself and disappear completely. "What if it's nice for a while and then it all comes crashing down around us? What about Gray?"

He shrugged again. His whole demeanour miles away from my own. He seemed confident, hopeful, almost excited while I felt nauseous, terrified and paralyzed by fear.

"But what if it doesn't? What if it all works out nicely? Why are you so convinced that we wouldn't last?"

"Because you're you," I reminded him, my tone flat as I stated the obvious. "Hollywood super star, Chris Evans. And I'm me, a boring nobody. You could have pretty much any famous actress you want, the only person who wants to be with me is the creepy maintenance worker in our apartment building."

Chris looked taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What? I've never heard about this guy."

"He's just some weird guy who does the repairs," I shrugged. "He comments on my outfits and looks at me in this way that makes my skin crawl, but he's harmless."

"Doesn't sound harmless to me," Chris argued, crossing his arms as a thunderous look settled on his face. "Does he have access to your place?"

"No!" I assured him, but after my quick answer I realized that I wasn't so sure. "Well, I don't know. He might have a spare key, I guess. If most maintenance people do? They have to give me notice before they enter the apartment anyway."

"Unless he's sneaking in to perv on you."

"Chris! That's gross!" I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Why would you put that thought in my head?!"

"I told you that you should have let me buy you a house," Chris huffed. "You're moving when all this covid shit is over."

"Oh my god," I groaned having flashbacks to our conversation a few weeks ago about him buying me a car. "All of this is so beside the point! We're talking about how you'd get bored of me and leave me heartbroken for some flashy Hollywood babe, remember?"

"Right," Chris nodded, letting his arms fall to his side. "But that's such a ridiculous idea that I thought it was hardly worth acknowledging."

His dismissal of one of my biggest fears sent a flash of anger through me.

"How is it ridiculous?" I snapped. "It's true!"

"You know me, Whitney," Chris sighed. "You know that my team had to practically force me into doing Captain America because I had one foot out the door of the whole acting gig and I hated the way Hollywood made me feel. Do you really think that I would give up a chance at a having family with you, someone who I really care about, for some wild, short-lived fling?"

His tone conveyed his disbelief, but he hadn't quite accurately interpreted what I meant.

"I think you'd regret it," I clarified. "I think that once the initial excitement wore off, you'd see that I'm nothing special and that I don't fit in your world."

Chris was looking at me as if I'd grown an extra head and I crossed my arms a little tighter around myself.

"We were friends long before Grayson came around and I've always thought that you were something special. Where is all this insecurity coming from, Whitney? Because I just don't get it."

I swallowed hard as I bit my lip. I felt incredibly vulnerable and the urge to run away and continue ignoring all my feelings seemed much preferable to standing here and analyzing them all, but I stayed strong. We were both adults and this was the only way to move forward. Whether it ended how Chris wanted or not, he deserved to know how I felt.

"I spent a long time convincing myself that you didn't care about me as anything more than a friend. I told myself that it was an insane idea because we're in two very different leagues so there was no point getting my hopes up. Then that night happened and I thought that maybe I'd been wrong, that it could be the start of a really good thing, but then you were gone by the time I woke up and you never called."

I barely choked out the last few words as I fought back the tears that were swimming in my eyes. An unmistakable look of guilt flashed onto Chris' face and he opened his mouth to comment, perhaps to defend himself, but I held up a hand to stop him. I needed to get it out or I never would.

"Then three weeks later, I found out I was pregnant," I continued. "I assumed from your silence that you didn't want to be with me and I knew that we were good together as friends so I kept my feelings to myself and spent the last three and a half years beating myself up for thinking for even one second that you would want to be with me."

"I did want to be with you..."

Chris was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes that he'd mastered and I sniffled as a tear slipped down my cheek.

"I know that now, but I can't just turn those thoughts off."

Chris sighed and rubbed his hands over his face before holding out his arms.

"C'mere."

I shook my head, wiping my tears as I worried that I'd fall apart completely if I stepped into his arms, but when he persisted and gestured me over again, I couldn't resist. I took the few steps needed to close the space between us and let my arms slide around his waist. He hugged me close to his body, burying his face in my hair as pressed mine into his muscled chest. We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I was an idiot," he apologized, his words muffled by my hair. "I should have fought for you. At the very least, I should have stayed until you woke up and I should have called, but I was scared too."

I felt more tears fill my eyes as I choked out a soft "I know".

Another silence fell between us before Chris spoke again, his words making my heart almost stop completely.

"I was going to propose." I pulled back at that confession, my eyes wide as I looked up at him unable to process his words fast enough to speak before he continued. "I called my mom up as soon as you told me you were pregnant. I wanted her to help me pick out a ring, but she talked me out of it. Said you'd think I was doing it for all the wrong reasons."

My heart fluttered back to life at the sincerity in his admission, but I nodded my head.

"Your mom is a smart lady," I told him. "I absolutely would have thought you were only doing it because you felt you had to."

"It wasn't out of obligation though," he insisted. "Maybe I was getting a bit ahead of myself leaping straight to marriage, but I cared about you. It was an opportunity to make it official, make that commitment and be a family. That's what I wanted."

I stayed quiet, resting my head back against his chest as I tried to take in all this new information. It was a lot to process especially when it directly contradicted the belief I had clung to for so long - that Chris and I would never work and for Grayson's sake we were better off apart. That assumption was so deeply embedded in my brain that it was hard to find the courage to take such a risk.

As if Chris could sense my lingering indecision, he continued.

"It's still what I want," he said softly. "Being here these last few weeks with you and Grayson as a family has been a dream come true. I wouldn't give it up for anything or do anything to jeopardize it if you'd just give me a shot."

The word 'okay' was so close to the tip of my tongue that it shocked me.

That was all I had to do, just open my mouth and agree and he would be mine.

My heart was pleading with me to do it, to take that leap and ignore any of the arguments against it that were running through my mind - especially now that those arguments seemed much less sound than they had a few short weeks ago. I was so conflicted that it almost physically pained me to have to make a decision and I couldn't help, but wonder how he could be so certain.

So, I leaned back and tilted my head so my eyes could meet his.

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned. "After how things have been these last few years, how can you be so confident in your feelings?"

"Because I love you," he told me plainly and with unwavering surety. "If you tell me right now that it's not what you want, then I'll accept your decision. But if there's a hint of a chance, then I'll wait as long as I need to. I've been waiting for years, thinking that I didn't even have a shot, I think I can wait a little longer now that I know that I might."

It was another heart wrenchingly honest explanation, another vulnerable admission, and something in the openness with which he spoke made me realize that over the last three years he had done nothing to earn any distrust from me. Even after the fallout from Christmas, he'd put his hurt feelings and pride aside to make things easier for me. He'd been sincere during every discussion we'd had since then and hadn't been cruel or impatient about my indecision. I had no reason at all, other than my own fear and insecurities, to assume that he was going to break my heart and tear apart our family.

He deserved a little bit of trust from me as well and a clarity washed over me as I finally knew what I had to do.

There were words I could have said, probably should have said, but I didn't feel like there was anything that would accurately portray how I was feeling. I settled for a more direct approach as I pressed up onto my toes and let my lips fall against his.

He tensed at first and for a brief, heart stopping moment, I thought he might push me away again, but he didn't. He relaxed, pulling me closer as my hands slid to cup his neck.

It was a soft kiss. A gentle, loving kiss, that I hoped conveyed what I couldn't figure out how to say. But when our lips parted and he leaned down to rest his forehead on mine, there was a concern in his eyes that told me I wasn't going to get away with it that easily.

"What does that mean?"

I bit my lip, staring up past his long eyelashes into his eyes. There was still a tiny voice in my head telling me to run, to stop being so foolish and leave now before I made a mistake, but my heart had found its footing now and wasn't going to back down. Listening to my head all this time hadn't made things any easier, so it was time to try something else.

"It means," I started, taking in a shaky breath. "I don't want to keep you waiting anymore."

Chris let out a breath of relief as a tentative smile slid onto his face.

"Really? You're sure?"

I swallowed hard and nodded my head.

"Yes," I breathed out, my voice thick with all the emotions swirling through me.

He dipped his head a touch lower until our lips were reconnected. It was a deeper kiss, more desperate than the first as his tongue slid against mine and his grip tightened on my waist, my nails scraping against the fuzz of his recently cut hair. I caved into him, clinging to him like he was a lifeboat in a storm until he pulled back to take a breath.

My chest heaved against his, the adrenaline of his touch and what this finally meant, almost too much to handle. I settled back down, flat on my feet and nuzzled my face back into his chest as I fought to calm my racing mind and just enjoy the moment.

"You really mean it?" Chris asked again, the shakiness of his voice filling me with another pang of guilt. "You really want to give this a try?"

"I mean it," I nodded against him. "Doesn't mean my concerns have all vanished in the last five minutes, but I...I think I need to trust you."

"I won't let you down," he murmured into my hair as he pulled me even closer. Another silence fell between us until I broke it with an embarrassingly large yawn and Chris' chest shook as he chuckled. "Do you wanna sleep down here tonight?"

As soon as he'd asked the question, it suddenly hit me how exhausted I was. Even just the thought of walking upstairs seemed like an impossible task when there was such an inviting, comfortable bed only steps away from where I stood. But a thought popped into my head that I couldn't ignore and I turned my head slightly so I wasn't speaking directly into Chris' muscles.

"What about Gray?" I asked. "He always comes to you in the morning..."

"Would it matter?"

His tone wasn't accusing or annoyed, but genuinely curious as sharing a child did add a strange new element to all this. I didn't really know what the best way to handle it was since Grayson didn't really understand our relationship or know how a typical family was set up anyway, but it didn't seem like the best way to introduce him to the idea.

"I think we should talk to him about it instead of just letting him stumble on us in bed together," I suggested. "But I think maybe we should wait a while?"

Chris' face fell as the look of worry returned.

"You want to keep this a secret?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I shook my head. "You can tell whoever you want, but I think we should figure things out, make sure things are stable between us before we try to explain it to Gray."

"Alright, that's fair," Chris agreed before leaning down to place another soft kiss on my lips. "I'll wake you up before he comes down."

"Okay," I nodded as I let my thumb stroke his cheek.

We reluctantly slipped out of each other's arms, but it was a brief separation as we climbed into opposite sides of the bed. Once we'd turned the lights off, we met in the middle and he pulled me back against his chest, letting me hook my leg over his hip as we settled against each other.

Chris ran a hand up and down my spine as he nuzzled in my hair.

"This feels nice..."

"It does," I hummed. With the darkness around us, the quiet that had settled in, I felt encouraged to say something that I'd felt I should have said long ago. "I'm sorry, Chris."

I felt him tense.

"For what?"

"For messing you around so much," I admitted. "Especially at Christmas...that wasn't cool."

"If I had expectations, I should have laid them out before anything happened." His answer sounded rehearsed, as if he'd spent a long time convincing himself of that fact. I wasn't entirely sure it was a fair statement, but he continued before I could question it. "I can understand where you were coming from, but I promise I won't hurt you."

I felt a pang of uncertainty because that wasn't always a promise that could be kept, but the sincerity in his voice gave me hope. I placed a soft kiss against his chest as his hands slid up under the loose shorts I was wearing to cup my bum.

"I love you," I mumbled against his skin.

"I love you too," he replied, making a feeling of warmth flood through me. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

I sighed happily as my exhaustion had my eyes fluttering shut. I wanted to stay awake, to keep this moment before the brightness of the morning could bring any doubts or second guesses, but I was powerless to resist as sleep overtook me.

-

Part Five

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 3 Part 2

Hello all, once again I arrive to bring you the next part to Midnight Striga, Episode 3! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

“Willow, I heard.” Luz chuckled. “Speaking of names, mine’s Luz.” With that said, she held out her hand, open for a shake.

Willow blinked, before, with a beaming grin, reciprocated the handshake. It wasn’t often that people were this openly friendly to her! “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Luz! I-” Willow’s voice cut off as she focused on a detail she had missed prior; Luz’s ears, her very noticeably round-tipped ears. “So circly…” She murmured in fascination, only for her hand to be lightly swatted away by Luz. “Oh! I’m sorry, but, it’s just, you, you’re a human!”

Luz grave a slightly irked grin. “Yup. Been one all my life.”

Willow rang her hands, flustered. “Oh my Titan, I can’t believe I lost control around a human. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” She asked again.

Luz was a little ticked at the implication that she was fragile, but kept it in, smiling at the girl’s concern. “Like I said, I’m fine.” She spread her arms, showing off the lack of damage to her limbs and body. “Might have a few aches and pains in the morning, but other than that, I’m good.”

“A-are you sure?” Willow pressed. “I mean, I know humans are more frail than Witches-” Willow’s voice cut out, suddenly intimidated by the sharp glare on Luz’s face.

“Humans. Are not fragile.” Luz bites out. Breathing in deep, Luz lets out a sigh, calming herself. Forcing a smirk on her face, she asks Willow, “Besides, if we were, could I do this?”

Willow gasped as Luz proceeded to do the “this” in question; summoning a chair made of light, and plopping herself down in it, a cocky smirk on her face. “But. Magic! How? And you!! What is-” At that point, Willow’s legs gave out, causing her to slowly topple over.

“Whoa there, don’t go falling on me now!” Luz yelped, quickly moving to steady the other girl. As she managed to keep her Willow on her feet, Luz let out a relieved sigh. “And, there we go!”

“Thanks.” Willow gasped out, steadying herself. “Now, where was I? Oh yeah!” Willow snapped her fingers in realization, pointing at Luz dramatically. “YOU JUST USED MAGIC!!!”

Luz gave Willow a flat look in response. “Yes. I did. Is that a problem?” Luz asked as calmly as she could. Don’t get her wrong, Luz liked this girl, but she was still a bit salty about the incident from four days prior with the deliveries.

“Oh, nonononono!!” Willow frantically denied. “At least, not with me. It’s just really, really shocking.” Luz gave a shrug at that, not contesting the point. Willow sighed. “I’m sorry if that sounded rude, it’s just, all my life I’ve been told that Humans can’t use magic, that it was a gift for us Witches and Demons. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Willow finished, offering a shallow bow in apology.

Luz snorted at the display. “Pfft. Don’t worry about it!” She flippantly stated, a cheeky grin on her face. “I’ve gotten used to the whole “humans don’t have magic” speech already. It’ll probably grate on my nerves when it comes up, but it doesn’t bother me. Honestly, what concerns me more was that little display with Little Miss Perfect.” Willow snorted at the not-inaccurate description for Amity, a little surprised at someone being so dismissive of the girl.

Clearing her throat, Willow broached the topic on her mind. “I’m not going to ask how you can perform magic, and I must say that your spell looks amazing, but why were you hiding in the bushes?”

Lus flushed. “I was actually looking for… something I lost earlier this week. I overheard you talking to yourself, and saw the whole exchange between you and Miss Minty.” Again, Willow held in a chuckle at the flippant nickname. Luz’s face grew serious. “But, I gotta say, as someone who specializes in Construct-based Magic… your Abomination?” She phrased it as a question, continuing at Willow’s answering nod. “It literally made me cry to see.”

Willow grew downcast, sorrowfully mumbling. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that before.” Willow shyly twisted her foot against the ground.

Luz clapped her hand on the Witch girl’s shoulder, snapping her out of her funk. “Hey, don’t talk like that.” She held Willow’s face in her hands, much to the other girl’s bewilderment. “That Abomination is for a presentation or something, right?” At Willow’s cautious nod, Luz grinned, continuing. “Then I can help you! In exchange for a peek inside your school, that is.”

Willow was dubious. “I don’t know, do you even know how to make an Abomination?” She doubted it, but it was better to ask than to assume.

Luz grinned challengingly. “Do you have a textbook detailing this?” She gestured to the Abomination goop. With a slow nod, Willow brought out the textbook in question, one she routinely poured over every night, desperate to understand what she was doing wrong. As Luz flipped through the book, she marveled at the detailed notes covering each page; clearly, this girl was no slacker, so how was she doing so poorly? Unless… as Luz took a closer look into the Pot, she gained an idea as to what the problem was. She piped up. “Hey Willow, do you think you could summon this for me?”

“Uh, sure?” With a nervous flick of her wrist, Willow called up her Abomination, internally cringing at the admittedly poor result. She was slightly puzzled, however, by Luz crouching down to get a better look, and grew a little worried at her chuckling.

Snickering to herself, Luz decided to voice her thoughts on the situation. “Willow, would you say that you like plants?” She was sure that it was an understatement, but it was best to make sure.

Blinking, Willow nearly shouted in response. “ARE YOU KIDDING!? I LOVE PLANTS!!” The gleeful cheer ripped through the clearing, leaving no doubts to her opinion on the subject. “If I had any real say, I’d much prefer learning Plant Magic than… Abominations.” She continued at a much more sedate volume, spitting the last word with a surprising amount of venom.

Luz cocked an eyebrow, amused. “Well, considering that thing with the vines,” Willow flushed in embarrassment at the memory. “I think I know what your problem is.”

Willow paused, uncomprehending. Then, she rushed deep into Luz’s personal space, an almost manic gleam in her eyes. “Really!? Do you mean it?!?” She demanded, roughly shaking the human.

“Y-Ye-e-e-ss, now-w s-sst-op sh-shaking-g m-meme!!” Luz garbled.

As Willow sheepishly released her, Luz straightened out her clothes, voicing her theory. “My best guess is that you have too high an affinity with plants and plant magic. That’s why you struggle so much with making these things,” She kicked the Abomination Pot, “despite having so much knowledge on the topic.”

Willow’s eyes blinked rapidly, confused. “Affinity?”

“Do Witches not really work with those?” Luz asked. At Willow’s still confused nod, Luz pondered the information. “Huh, that explains a bit. Well, to simplify, a Magic User’s affinity, whether Witch, Human, or Demon, is the representation of the magic closest to their soul. Every mage has an affinity, heck, the strongest mages often have several, but everyone’s got at least one.”

“Okay,” Willow replied slowly. “But what does that have to do with me and my Abominations?”

“Everything.” Luz bluntly stated. As Willow flinched in response, she continued. “I’ve seen magic react to its wielder’s emotions, heck, it’s usually a good way of checking a fresh mage’s magical affinity, if they're strong enough to handle it, but I’ve NEVER seen a reaction as powerful as that one.” Willow blinked, not quite processing what Luz was implying. “Girl, you have to have some of the singularly greatest potential for Plant and Plant-based Magic I have ever seen in my life, and the power to back it up.”

“B-But I’m the bottom of my class,” Willow stammered. “I-I was a late bloomer!”

“If anyone told you anything like that, they didn’t know what they were talking about.” Luz calmly stated. “If you got labeled a ‘late bloomer’ or anything like that, it only reinforces my theory.”

“How so?” Willow softly asked, still trying to process it all.

“Easy.” Luz shrugged. “Your affinity for Plant Magic is TOO powerful. Your magic naturally seeks to become Plant Magic and spells, so if you attempt anything else, it backfires. You’ve got incredible power, and can do insane things with Plants, but the trade off is that you can ONLY do things with plants, at least alone.”

Willow’s legs wobbled, and she fell to the ground. She was so confused. All this time, she was never a Half-a-Witch? She wasn’t a late bloomer, just too good at one thing? “Then, what am I supposed to do? I’m in the Abominations Track, I’m not supposed to use Plant Magic!” She was mostly trying to convince herself at this point. “My parents said I’d have better prospects in Abominations!”

“If they said that, then I’m sorry to say that they have no clue what your prospects are really like.” Luz coldly replied. It was harsh, but it needed to be said. “It doesn’t matter if the field itself has great prospects or opportunities, if you can’t even do the bare minimum successfully, you’ll never be able to benefit from them. Keeping you in Abominations is just going to cripple you in the long run.”

Willow cried, tears softly running down her face. “Then, then, what’s the point?” She cupped her face in her hands. “If I can’t even benefit from a Track I hate, then what can I even do?”

“Hey, hey!” Luz lightly chided. “No talking like that! You may not have a future in Abominations,” She ignored Willow’s bitter agreement, “But we can at least get you a grade good enough to tide you over until we find a solution.”

Willow looked up at Luz’s daring grin. “How?” She asked challengingly.

“Treat it like a plant.” She said.

Willow blinked. “Huh?”

“If you can’t get it right as an Abomination,” Luz began, “Then try it again, but this time, imagine forming your Abomination the way you would have a plant grow.”

“Would that even work?” Willow was skeptical. It was admittedly a smart reaction, as what Luz was suggesting came very close to mixing magic from what she could tell, but she couldn’t deny it was enticing.

Luz gave her a reassuring grin. “Of course it will. Here, I’ll even help guide you through it.”

“O-okay.” With a shuddering breath, Willow slowly began forming her Abomination, Luz calmly walking her through each step.

As Luz oversaw Willow’s work, she briefly wondered what Eda and King were getting up to.

A massive crowd of Witches, Demons, and guards alike all cheered at the sight before them; a ring of fire in an open clearing, Eda the Owl Lady riding on the shoulders of a Bipedal hulk of light, a sword raised over head, her demon companion riding his own hulking mount, a spear clutched in his adorable fist. With matching bloodthirsty cries, the two goaded their servants to charge, weapons bared, while the crowd roared in delight behind them.

Luz shrugged, reasoning to herself that they couldn’t have gotten up to anything too crazy. As she saw Willow’s finished product, she couldn’t fight the genuinely impressed grin. Now, she was ready.

Amity Blight was annoyed. That was nothing unusual, not truly; the life she lived was a passionless one, save those few moments of genuine enjoyment she gained reading to the kids at the library, or when she could escape into her books. Even her scholastic achievements only brought some measure of satisfaction, and it was truly minor in the end. What currently was igniting her frustration, however, was the Witchling she was being forced to deal with.

“For the last time, Skara,” Amity growled. “I don’t care if Boscha is being aggressive. She’s ALWAYS aggressive!”

“But it’s different this time!” Skara, one of the Witches she was forced to endure on a daily basis, insisted. “Ever since she lost that fight, she’s been super different!” She glanced over to see Boscha, roughly pinning a Demon student against the wall, an ugly smile spread across her face.

Amity blinked, confused. “Boscha lost a fight?” That was certainly unusual. The arrogant Witch, though it wasn’t often unwarranted, was exceptionally aggressive in terms of combat-based magic, and thrived on competition. “How?”

“Well, we were walking through Bonesburough, when Boscha spotted the absolutely cutest demon!” Skara started, gushing slightly at the mention of the demon. Amity fought the urge to roll her eyes; Boscha’s weakness for cuteness, a stark contrast to her tough girl image, was an open secret, not that anyone was foolish enough to try and use it against her. Skara continued talking, “But before we could get in any cuddles or pics for Penstagram, the little guy’s minder took him back! And, she totally gave Boscha the brushoff!” 

Oof. Amity would freely admit to herself, that took an incredible amount of nerve; even those who didn’t know or know of Boscha found her presence intimidating. For someone to completely ignore the girl would take an impressive amount of nerve, and would’ve infuriated the feral jock to no end. “I’m assuming Boscha took exception to that?” Of course she did, but, for the sake of her sanity, it wouldn’t do to undercut the frustrating girl before her.

Skara nodded, oddly grave; Amity took notice of it for later. “Yeah. It was BRUTAL. This girl not only caught one of Boscha’s punches like it was nothing, but she blocked one of her best fireballs with a Light Spell of all things!” And at that, any interest Amity had in the conversation vanished.

With a scoff, Amity turned on her heel. “If you’re going to make up something new for the rumor mill, the least you could do is make it believable.” With a huff, Amity started walking to her class. She had better things to do than indulge the biggest gossip in school looking to stir up trouble.

“What!?” Skara yelped. “But Amity, I’m being serious!”

Amity stopped, turning to give Skara a Look. “Uh huh, right.” As if she’d buy that.

Skara huffed, a hint of red coloring her cheeks. “It’s true! Boscha got into a fight, she lost, and now she’s being super weird! How hard is that to believe!?” She flapped her arms in emphasis, desperate to gain some focus on what she was saying.

Amity crossed her arms, chin turned up in faux-thought. “Well, nothing you said was implausible…”

Skara started to cheer, only for it to die in her throat as Amity continued.

“But the fact that you claimed Boscha was beaten by a Light Spell, the absolutely most basic of magic spells Witches are taught, makes me think you are just trying to stir up drama. Like you always do.” With a disinterested sniff, Amity continued on her way.

“B-but Amity!” Skara cried.

Whirling on the other girl, her temper almost breaking, Amity growled. “No. Buts.”

Skara was instantly cowed, any words being swallowed as her face flooded with heat. “Y-yes, Amity.”

With a small smirk at the end to this latest annoyance, Amity walked to class, heedless of Skara’s efforts to pry Boscha away from the rapidly bluing Demon she was gripping around the throat, only for Boscha to freeze, releasing the Demon, as she slowly turned towards the center of the school, her eyes glowing a bloody red. The sooner Amity’s day was over, the better.

[monochromemedic]

“Freeside, huh? It’s uh... nice just well not what i’d thought i be. You’d think it’d be a little nicer considering it’s surrounding The Strip but... I guess I should just be glad that there’s stable housing here.”  Boone gave a small grunt of confirmation, finger brushing along his lip in thought. “Strip takes all the power. Freeside’s left in the wake to eat the scraps and survive. It’s how it’s always been. NCR’s been trying to do more with it, but House has got the place on lockdown. That and every NCR soldier just comes to get wasted and get laid.” “Didn’t you say that you were here once. When you met- er... well when you were... here.” I tried to avoid her name, not wanting to upset him. “Yeah. I met Carla here. There’s a big NCR headquarters here. Though it’s been a while.”  Well so much for not mentioning her. I clasped my hands, rubbing them in thought as I stared at a few of the neon signs that managed to work. A few of the callers from the corners yelled out at the few people wandering to come to their bar or shop, to wet our whistle in more ways then one. “You uh... you ever do one of those... things? Book a room with a lady. Or a guy? Or were you the drinker? Gambler?”  it was obvious that I was just trying to make some form of conversation, until we found something of actual substance to go to. “I drank. I wasn’t one of the ones that’d spent all my money trying to forget but I knew a few soldiers that did. That or would book a room to get off.” A sly smirk crept on the corners of his mouth before quickly ushering it away. I smiled too, giving him a little nudge with my elbow. “Hey I saw that big guy, you got a story to tell huh? Come on, let me in. Let’s hear an old tale from the Boone man.” The tossed his head from side to side, debating on whether to tell me or not, but as the ‘smile’ returned to his face he began to speak. “I wasn’t here for long, just got transferred with a few other people from my squad. There was one guy, higher ranking then us. His name was Lieutenant Sherwood. Real mean bastard, earned his rank through some shitty means but, he was in charge, so we had to follow him. When he came to the Strip he spent all his money on booze and babes. Lost it all in the night and we found him in the gutter puking his brains out, no clothes on, some girl he hired trying to pick his lazy ass up.” He stopped and leaned against one of the buildings, lighting a smoke as he took a long drag. “We ended up calling him Lieutenant Shitfaced behind his back, and never had the same respect for him since we saw that piss stain in his uniform that night.” I let out a small laugh, trying to lean against the building as coolly as he did, hands pushed into my pockets as I looked up at him. “I think I would to if I saw something like that. Damn, all that money in a night? That’s pretty impressive, how the hell did he use it all?” “We don’t know. Just thought he had some expensive taste in women. That or was a terrible gambler.” As Boone finished his cigarette a small group of residents past by, drunk from the nearby bar from the way they laughed as pushed each other around. As they passed us however their eyes turned to face Boone, narrowing in anger. “You aren’t doing any favor to yourself having NCR on your back.” One of them slurred to me, a look of warning crossing his face before his other friend shot out a sarcastic. “Hey nice hat you got there, fancy pants! How many people did you have to kill to get it!” The other drunkard gave him a slap against the back on the head, hushed words telling him to watch his words or he’d end up dead in a ditch. “Jeez, what assholes.” I snarled, staring back up to Boone to see him unfazed by the rude comments of the passersby. “They aren’t wrong. NCR can be cruel at times,not to mention we’re taking hold of their area. Hell, you’re not the biggest fan of NCR yourself, you’re only pissed cause it was aimed at the one member you’re friends with.”  My mouth pressed itself into a hard line. He was right, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the way that the military handled things around the wasteland. And he wouldn’t be exactly wrong about how I was mad because they said that to HIM exactly. They weren’t wrong. Boone had did terrible things, and had taken a long time to get him to talk just this much. At times he could be cold and cruel, unforgiving to the world around him, and the only way that I had gotten use to it was from the how long I traveled with him, and understood that there was more to him then the coldness he presented.  I wished that others could see that. That Boone as more then just an angry, bloodthirsty army boy. It probably didn’t help  how he was dressed.  Combat boots, left over army pants and a white t shirt stained with dust, blood and other unmentionables. He was one jacket away from looking like he was on duty. I pulled out the caps in my bag and began to count softly to myself before pushing a handful into Boone’s large hands. “What’s this for?” “Well... maybe you could buy yourself something nice. Maybe some clothes or something, or a new pair of shades? I just feel like you deserve something you know? You’ve been helping me since I got to Novac, I feel like I haven’t been pulling my weight back. So... yeah.” “I don’t need this. Besides, you need as many caps as you can to get into the Strip to kill Benny.” He huffed, trying to force the money back into my hands. “I... I do but... If I have to wait a couple more days to get the money back then, so be it. We don’t have close enough to get close to getting in there Boone, I feel like it’s gonna be a while until we find some gold bars to get in. So while we’re sort of in the city of dreams and luck and whatever the hell, maybe we should try to relax. We deserve it.” Boone glared from behind his shades, and when he tried to open his mouth to continue to argue I pushed my hands harder against his own. “I am not taking no for an answer this time. I’m gonna be a stubborn son of a bitch just as much as you. Look if you don’t even wanna spend it just hold it for a while and make it feel like I did a good deed today ok?” I continued That seemed to settle him down, as he quickly pocketed the caps for his own before snuffing out the cigarette under his boot. “Fine. But if we miss that Benny guy because of this, don’t come crying to me.” “I won’t, honestly the more the days go by I feel less and less like killing that stripped dweeb and more just... questioning why. I feel like even then I won’t get a straight answer, and I think i’m starting to be ok with that too. I’m alive. I might not have my memory past that night but, I got you don’t I? A friend by my side, a whole world ahead of me. I’ve got no plans but, I feel free enough to do anything. It’s not terribly bad. You know, long as you stick around a bit longer, Craig.” Boone’s eyes shifted as he adjusted his beret, cheeks going pink  with the way I used his first name. “That’s way too optimistic.” “Well, do you got anywhere else you gotta go? Killing legionaries? I mean that’s all I can think of and last time we talked about it, we were gonna tag team em. Be a couple of problem solvers right?” I nudged him again, my smile widening harder as I saw him sigh as he realized that he in fact, didn’t have anywhere to be anytime soon. “Suppose you got a point. Let’s look for a room for the night. Unless you wanna sleep on the streets and get mugged” “Right behind you big man.”

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Forward Post

Summary: Belle French receives a misdirected package for one Baeden Gold, and she sets about trying to reunite the parcel with its rightful recipient. She never expected to find love along the way. 

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: Mail delivered to the wrong address.

Rated: G

=====

Forward Post

The parcel had come to the wrong place. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. The parcel had come to the correct place, but it had come to the wrong person. 

Belle was still staring at the box a good five minutes after she had come home from work to find it sitting outside her apartment. 

She couldn’t deny that the address was definitely hers, so the box had definitely come to the right place. 

She was not, however, the Baeden Gold to whom it had been addressed. 

Now, normally if Belle received post that had come to her address but not her name, she would do one of two things. She would shred it without opening it, or she would scribble ‘not known at this address, return to sender’ all over it and post it again.

The parcel, however, was a rather sizeable parcel, and as she picked it up to bring it into the apartment, she found that it was really quite heavy. Now, option A was obviously out of the question, and given its size and weight, Belle really didn’t fancy lugging it down to the post office.

She was going to have to do something with it. Baeden Gold would probably be expecting his parcel, especially since Christmas was coming and the parcel was likely to be related to the holiday. She certainly couldn’t just keep the parcel and hope that the Baeden Gold in question would come by and collect it. Given its size and weight and the postage markings on it, whoever had sent the parcel had spent quite a lot on getting it sent, and Belle really wanted it to get to the correct recipient. It had been sent with love and care: it was well-wrapped, and the address was printed neatly by hand. As she set it down on the kitchen table, she saw the return address. There was no name. Well, there wasn’t a name that could help her. The sender had identified themselves as ‘Papa’. 

Oh. Oh dear. 

Belle could put together a very clear picture of what was going on. A father estranged from his child had sent gifts for Christmas, and they had come to the child’s address too late, after someone else had already re-rented the apartment. 

Belle’s brow furrowed. She’d been living here for almost six months; surely that was enough time for a new address to have been communicated to Baeden’s father. Unless they didn’t want their new address to be known by said father for whatever reason. 

Belle sat down at the kitchen table, wishing that she knew what to do. Returning to sender would be the best option, but at the same time, she couldn’t get the vision of this unknown man getting his child’s Christmas presents back, and the vision of the child not receiving any Christmas presents from their father, out of her head. 

She had to get these presents to this child. Returning to sender would be useless, because Papa Gold - no, that sounded horribly wrong, she needed another way to identify him. Mr Gold, that would do. Because Mr Gold would not have sent the parcel to the wrong address if he had known the correct one. 

Belle didn’t know the correct address any better than Mr Gold did, but at least she had a better chance of finding out. 

She grabbed her phone and dialled the letting agency. Naturally, it was out of their office hours, but she left a message. 

“Hi, this is Belle French from apartment sixteen, I was wondering if you had a forwarding address for the previous tenants? I’ve received a parcel for them. Thanks.”

She hung up and leaned back in the chair; there was nothing more that she could do until morning now. Well, except wonder what the box contained. She’d never open it, but having come into unexpected custody of it, she couldn’t help but imagine. How old was Baeden? What kind of toys did he like? She picked up the box again and shook it very gently, but the weight distribution didn’t change. Whatever it was, it was packed in tightly. 

It felt like books. Working in the library, Belle was used to handling boxes of books, and she knew how much they weighed for how little room they took up. This could very well be a box of books. 

What books were they? Fantasy? Sci-fi? Picture books? More likely to be picture books; if Baeden was still young enough for his father to be Papa to him, then he probably wasn’t reading Lord of the Rings yet. 

The box stayed on her kitchen table overnight, but Belle’s dreams were full of unknown children separated from their fathers and their Christmas presents. 

When she checked her emails next morning, there was a message from the letting agency waiting for her with the forwarding address. 

Unfortunately, the name that went with the forwarding address was not Baeden Gold. 

Well, of course it wasn’t going to be Baeden Gold. If his papa was still sending him Christmas presents then he was hardly old enough to have the lease in his own name. 

The name was Milah Cassidy. 

Belle looked at it hard for a moment. If Baeden’s father was no longer part of the family unit, then it made sense that his mother might have gone back to her maiden name. Or maybe they had never been married in the first place, and she had never been Milah Gold. 

Or maybe Milah Cassidy was entirely unrelated and was just another person who had lived in the apartment, like Belle. 

She glared at the box. It was just an ordinary box wrapped in brown paper and sealed with parcel tape; it should not have been causing so many problems. Still, she was determined to get to the bottom of it all, and she was even more determined that Baeden Gold was going to get his books from his papa.

She thought for a moment, and then the solution struck her. There was still a good couple of weeks before Christmas, after all, and she had the return address. 

Belle grabbed a sheet of paper and pen and sat down at the table, the box seeming to watch her as she wrote. 

Dear Mr Gold (I assume that’s your name from the box)

My name is Belle French and I’ve lived in Apartment Sixteen, Riverside Mansions for the past six months. I’m currently in possession of a parcel that you sent here addressed to a Baeden Gold, who again, from the box, I’m assuming is your son. 

I take it from the fact that you sent the box here that you don’t have Baeden’s current address. 

I have a forwarding address for the tenant who lived here before me. Please forgive me for not passing this to you for security reasons. I am happy to forward the parcel on your behalf, however, to avoid the same thing happening to someone else as has happened to me, could you please confirm that Baeden is resident with a Ms Milah Cassidy. 

Many thanks, Belle French. 

She added her phone number - it would be a bit difficult to get the parcel delivered in time if she had to rely on snail mail for all future correspondence - and sealed the envelope.

All she could do now was wait and see.  

X

The call came three days later, out of the blue, on her lunch break. When she saw that it was an unknown number, Belle pounced on it and answer after two and a half rings. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Belle French?”

“Speaking.”

“Hello, this is Raymond Gold. I, erm, I got your letter about Bae’s parcel.”

“Hello, Mr Gold.”

For some reason her heart was beating very hard in her chest, and Belle could not for the life of her work out why. Maybe it was his voice, soft and Scottish and nervous, as if he didn’t like making phone calls. 

“Milah is Bae’s mother, Cassidy’s her maiden name. I… Do you really have the parcel? I mean, obviously you do, or you wouldn’t have my address… I can’t believe she didn’t tell me she’d moved. No, actually, I can, it’s the kind of thing she’d do…” He tailed off, and Belle could almost feel his embarrassment down the phone. “I’m not weird or dangerous, I swear, we just had a very acrimonious divorce. I won’t ask for the new address or anything, but could you please send it on? I need Bae to know that I’m still around, that I still love him, no matter what his mother might have said.”

The poor man, it sounded like he was at the very end of his rope. Whilst Belle couldn’t vouch for him not being weird or dangerous, she could certainly help to make sure that his son didn’t go without his parcel. 

“Of course. I’ll let you know when it’s gone.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. And thank you for taking the time to do this, rather than just returning it to sender.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr Gold. Thanks for calling.”

She could sense his desperation, and she dreaded to think what he might have done had the parcel arrived on his own doorstep again. 

“Thank you.”

They said their goodbyes, and Belle went to get the parcel on the next - and hopefully final - leg of its journey. 

She had expected that to be the end of it. She sent a text to Mr Gold’s number to tell him that the parcel had been sent, and she thought that would be it. 

But it wasn’t. 

Gold replied thanking her again, and then, without even realising it, Belle was having a complete text-based conversation with a man she’d never met, had only spoken to once, and had only found out existed in passing thanks to a misdirected parcel. 

She told him what she did, and why she loved being a librarian so much, and she asked if the parcel had contained books because it felt like it did. 

He told her that yes, it had books in, because Bae was a voracious and precocious reader for his five years, and that reading bedtime stories was the thing he missed most. He told her about Bae, about himself, about how and why his relationship had ended. Belle told him about her parents, her own heartbreaks, her own loneliness. 

Even though he was a stranger, Belle felt that she really knew him, that he was a kindred spirit. They were both lonely, and whilst Gold was painfully aware of his isolation, Belle’s own state only weighed heavy upon her in the moments like this, when she felt that the only person who understood her was hundreds of miles away in a remote corner of Maine. 

She had not expected to find a friend as a result of that parcel, but she had definitely found one. 

She was surprised when, a week after his first call, Gold called her again. They had been exchanging messages several times a day, but they had not spoken to each other since the initial call. 

He was so changed. His voice was still soft and still Scottish and still shy, but it was energised now; there was less desperation in it. 

“Bae got his parcel!” he exclaimed happily. “He called me! Everything’s going to be all right!”

Belle felt a huge swell of happiness burst through her veins at the news. 

“I’m so glad, Rum, that’s great news.”

All the same, she felt a little sad that they would probably no longer be exchanging messages after this call, and she was so very glad when, half an hour after hanging up, her phone pinged, and their communication continued. 

They kept going back and forth throughout the Christmas period. The messaging became almost like a ritual, and Belle found herself counting Rum Gold amongst her closest friends, despite the fact she had no idea what he looked like. 

She found out what he looked like four months after their first interaction. The first tentative signs of spring were just about showing, and the chill in the air was no longer as biting cold as it had been all over winter. It was a day to be positive, and there was a spring in Belle’s step as she answered her doorbell. 

It became rather a perplexed step when she found a middle-aged man with short greying hair outside, a small boy hanging onto his hand. 

“Erm, hi.” The man gave an awkward wave, and Belle recognised his voice immediately. “I should have warned you before, and it’s horribly bad manners just turning up like this, but since I knew your address, and I was in the area anyway… I’m Rum Gold, and this is Bae, and we just wanted to come and thank you in person.”

“Thanks for sending my parcel!” Bae piped up. 

“I… You’re very welcome. Would you like to come in for some tea, or hot cocoa?”

“Yes!” Bae said. 

“No, we can’t I’m afraid,” Rum said. “We’ve got to get to a meeting. But… maybe we could meet tomorrow? We’ll still be in town.” He paused. “I’m getting full custody of Bae; he’s coming home to Storybrooke with me. We’re signing the final paperwork today.”

“It’s going to be great!” Bae certainly seemed very happy at the prospect of being with his dad again, and Belle was so relieved that everything had turned out for the best. 

“Tomorrow would be perfect.” Belle smiled. “I’m so happy that everything worked out for you.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Rum had gone rather pink around the ears. “If it hadn’t been for talking with you so much, I would never have got the courage to start the proceedings. So, the cocoa is definitely on me tomorrow.” He paused. “I hope that we can continue talking, even after this is over?”

Belle nodded. “We definitely can. It’s been great to meet you in person at last. And… I really hope that tomorrow won’t be the last time?”

Rum smiled. “It certainly doesn’t have to be. You know where I live, after all.”

“And you definitely know where I live.”

They both laughed. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, with the prospect of it becoming so much more. And it had all started with one innocuous parcel.

[mochidrabbles]

Jealousy Headcanons [ Haikyuu ]

I just got back into Haikyuu, so please forgive any mistakes I make with characterization while I get their personalities down!! Thankses <3

Jealousy Headcanons - Karasuno Vers.

Daichi isn’t one to get overly jealous. He’s very level and knows his relationship with s/o stands on even, strong ground. If anything it going to make him jealous it’s someone flirting heavily with his partner and them not turning the person down right away . Though, if s/o didn’t turn the person down right away because they felt too uncomfortable to do so Daichi will feel pretty bad for being irritated with them. Otherwise, Daichi might be able to brush it off but he’s a bit prickly about it for awhile until he’s either had time to work it out with himself or talk it over with s/o. If not, though, he’ll politely interject into the conversation and excuse himself and s/o, dragging them off to ask just what that all was

Suga isn’t unhealthily jealous by any means and he’s all for his partner spending plenty of time with their friends, male or female, especially since he can be so busy with volleyball. That being said, he does have a jealous streak. If Suga feels like he’s being ignored for someone or something else Suga can get a little pouty but is easily sated if he gets s/o’s attention. If someone else is flirting with his partner knowing they’re taken, especially if he’s right there obviously with them, Suga will get a bit grouchy though. Probably gives the person a smile so fake and tight-lipped it’s almost intimidating before hastily excusing himself and his partner and nearly dragging them off. If s/o manages to interject before Suga and tell the other person that they’re clearly and happily taken Suga’s jealousy is almost instantly abated. So long as Suga’s jealousy hasn’t been building from being ignored he’s mostly polite and a small huff and ‘geez’ and a squeeze of his partner’s hand once they’re away from the flirtatious person is mostly enough to calm him down. However, if he’s been jealous for awhile and this peaked it he can be a bit short. It’ll take him a minute or so to calm down, but he’ll probably be a bit embarrassed when he realized how he acted and apologize to s/o for being so abrupt. Please ask him what’s wrong and reassure him don’t let poor Suga bottle up his feelings because he will.

Asahi gets the insecure kind of jealous and it can happen pretty easily. He doesn’t mean for it to, but if he sees his partner with someone else who he feels may be better than him in some way (smarter, more attractive, funnier… it can be anything really) he can’t help but worry and feel like maybe they’d be better for s/o than him. It happens most often if he’s having a particularly bad day. He tends to withdraw a lot when he’s feeling unsure of himself and his value to the relationship and spaces out a lot when s/o is talking to him. It’s actually pretty obvious that something is bothering him and with some gentle coaxing he’ll guiltily admit to his thoughts. Some soft reassurance and quality time spent together help to ease Asahi’s concerns pretty effectively. The longer he’s been in the relationship and the closer he is to s/o the less often this happens.

Nishinoya is kind of an oddity when it comes to jealousy. He’s extremely quick to aggression with men who try to flirt with his partner but that’s almost more out of feelings of protectiveness and pure instinct. Noya is quite wary of boys he doesn’t know well and if s/o say gets paired with a strange boy for a project he’ll probably want to be there to make sure he doesn’t try anything funny which you could technically call jealousy, but beyond that he’s surprisingly chill. He trusts s/o and for the most part if they’re happy he’s happy - so if they’re with friends that respect boundaries and treat them well he mostly doesn’t care. He’s also not the type to get annoyed about not getting attention because if he wants attention he’ll just kinda go up to s/o and take it without really thinking much of it. The only time he really gets jealous is when someone is flirting with his partner and he can’t do anything about it for some reason - then he’s pretty snappy and wants them close to him for as long as his anger is present.

Tanaka totally does get jealous. He has two types of jealousy: protective jealousy, and insecure jealousy. If someone else even appears to be flirting with his partner Tanaka is instantly jealous and he’s there in seconds to cut in and ask the guy just whose girlfriend they think they’re talking to. Of course, he’ll be super embarrassed and apologetic if it’s just a misunderstanding. On the other hand, his partner being incredibly close to another boy will trigger the more insecure side of his jealousy. Tanaka knows this part is unhealthy and he does try hard to curb it, but sometimes seeing them laugh along with them and talk about them when it’s supposed to be just the two of them together plays on his insecurities. Mostly when he’s bothered by this he just gets quiet and if he does end up snapping at s/o at all he feels so bad. He hesitates to tell s/o because he thinks his feelings are unmanly and shameful, but if s/o manages to get it out of him he’s really grateful for it. He promises them he’ll get better about his jealousy and he absolutely will, though in the meantime he absolutely appreciates it when s/o invites him to tag along when they hang out with their male friends

Kageyama isn’t overly jealous about 90% of the time. Frankly he’s not that interested in most people, so if his partner is with friends he doesn’t know well s/o is the only one he sees. Simply put, Kageyama doesn’t care enough about most other people to be jealous of them. Like Hinata, Kageyama is also pretty oblivious so someone subtly flirting with his partner often goes right over his head, so it doesn’t phase him. Even hardcore obvious flirting makes him more irritated than jealous (assuming his partner doesn’t reciprocate, though in that case he just wonders if they don’t like him anymore.) The other 10% of the time is when it comes to people Kageyama does know and has some level of rivalry with or admiration for. When people falling into those categories (Oikawa for example) get too close to s/o Kageyama gets highkey jealous. He’s a somewhat possessive jealous type. At first he’ll be glaring holes into the perpetrators head, though if things get too much for him he probably physically drags s/o off. Once alone Kageyama wants a lot of physical affection from his partner as a way of reassuring himself that they’re still his and still love him and only him

Hinata isn’t really the jealous type. He trusts his partner absolutely implicitly and he’s often too oblivious to notice others advances towards them unless they’re blatantly obvious. Even then, as long as his partner turns them down or rejects the attention Hinata isn’t too bothered - in fact, he almost feels proud that others find them desirable. That being said, if s/o has been paying particular attention to another boy (especially one taller than him that Hinata sees as probably more attractive than himself) or they have to them Hinata can get a bit antsy. If he gets too upset he probably handles things the way he did when Terushima was getting too close to Kiyoko: bodily shoving himself in the way and stealing s/o’s attention back to himself. Chances are it’s enough to make the third party excuse themselves. Hinata is a pretty open book so his partner probably has an idea of what his issue is almost immediately. A few assurances that they’re just a friend or project partner and that they love Hinata unconditionally has his worries eased pretty instantaneously.

Tsukishima is highkey the jealous type, but would absolutely die before he’d ever admit it. It isn’t as though he dislikes his partner having friends or spending time with them (he’s not crazy) but if they seem to be ignoring him for the sake of their friends constantly or always talking about a specific guy while they’re alone together or, God forbid, while they’re on dates, it grates on Tsukishima pretty quickly. At first he’ll just swallow his feelings and leave s/o to do whatever they want but the longer things go on the more his jealousy starts to show through. It’s small things at first: snide comments here and there, spending more time away from s/o or ignoring them more - things like that. If things get really bad he may even try to make s/o jealous, though if someone points out to him how immature that is he’ll realize it and be embarrassed. As mentioned previously Tsukishima will not admit that he’s jealous so even if s/o confronts him about it he’ll probably just ‘tsk’ at them impatiently and tune them out if they push. Getting him to talk about his feelings is incredibly difficult (especially if the relationship is still in its earlier stages.) Either s/o and Tsukishima’s friends get him to finally drop the most obvious hints his pride will let him to tell s/o what the problem is and things will eventually click for him, or things will spiral into a fight. Most likely it will be the former and just expressing himself to s/o and having them make even the slightest of efforts to take his feelings into consideration (texting him while out with their friends if they haven’t hung out in awhile, making plans with him, ect.) generally makes Tsukishima feel better. In the case of the latter, though, everything kind of comes out all at once and s/o is probably going to call him a huge idiot for letting something like that turn into something this big, but hopefully once he’s managed to get it out there they can work to clear the air.

Yamaguchi is another one whose jealousy tends to stem more from insecurity. Generally he’s not actually jealous and any pangs he has fade pretty quickly. But, somewhat of a mix between Asahi and Tanaka, if s/o seems to spend a lot of time with someone Yamaguchi feels somehow inferior to in some way it can really start to eat at him. If he’s jealous he’s quiet about it, but he’ll start to get a bit distant. If s/o brings it up to him he’ll reluctantly tell them what’s been going on though he’s a bit ashamed of himself for feeling that way. However, if things escalate he might snap at them a little, asking why they’re even with him if they like the other person so much. Seeing the hurt expression on his partner’s face makes him feel immediately guilty though and he’s quick to apologize and explain himself. Either way he’s thankful for s/o understanding and promises to tell them if he ever feels that way again.

[algernoninwonderland]

Miraculous, the Monster of the Week Format and the Status Quo, or Why Things Barely Change At All

TLDR; while the monster-of-the-week format doesn’t mean there is no overarching plot in Miraculous, these monsters are variable in terms of quality and the overarching plot itself is not something the show explores. 

The fact that you can watch 80% of the show in any order without feeling lost is quite telling: the goal is to have self-contained stories during the space of one episode, not to have things that happened in such and such episode have consequences in the following ones. Which is frustrating in the long run, even more so when the monster-of-the-week format doesn’t mean that episodes are aired weekly. 

It isn’t that the people working on Miraculous aren’t talented enough to write something good, simply that the format they have to work with makes the story what it is.

Now, if you want to read something a little more detailed, just click the thingy!

With now 64 episodes aired, it’s safe to say that Miraculous is a show that is meant to stay on our screens for quite some time. For exactly five seasons, so far. Yay! Or perhaps not?

With its reused villains (when you’ve got 2.0 in your title, that screams Electric Boogaloo, I’m sorry), its apparent lack of character development and little focus on the overarching plot (if there is any, at this point), it sounds like this is pretty much stretched out. 

The show has two focuses, so to say, our two cinnamon buns and their love story, and superhero stuffs with different villains in each episode (and that guy alone in his lair, and sometimes that woman with the fan but eeeeh, don’t sweat it, besides they’re interchangeable so far)

What do I mean by Monster-of-the-week format?

Exactly what the title says. For each week/episode, one villain. Who is defeated at the end of the week. Yay! The prime example of this is the original Scooby Doo cartoons, Scooby Doo, Where Are You!

Now, what do we think of that show? Other than the laugh tracks, it holds up well enough. More importantly, though, every story is self-contained, and the appeal of the Scooby Doo is its mysteries. We don’t care about Velma’s backstory, or how Fred became the leader, these characters have very little depth and that’s OK, their interactions is not the main point of the story.

Scooby Doo has a very simple formula: 

The gang goes somewhere, finds mystery, chase one, traps, chase two with a bubblegum pop soundtrack this time, then the mystery is solved, very basically. And we can move on to the next mystery

You can air any episode in any order, you can get the story without feeling lost.

And for most Miraculous episodes, it is true as well! They follow roughly the same recipe:

Something something civilian life, Hawk Moth akumatises someone, Superhero Time, Lucky Charm, Status Quo again.

The first episodes that aired never explained how Marinette got her Miraculous and… It didn’t seem to matter all that much?

But there’s a problem here. MLB isn’t just about Superhero Thingies™. We’ve got that Love Tesseract™ thing too. And a love story requires a progression and character growth to work. 

You can’t have a monster-of-the-week format if you try to explore things that are character-driven, unless there is a clear follow up, an overarching plot.

Like, say…

Revolutionary Girl Utena.

Utena is one of my favourite shows of all time, and I’m talking live action and animated. It is stylish, the writing is great, the direction work is awesome. It’s a masterpiece and for a show aired in 1997, it aged pretty well in the way it handles it themes. (some of the animation is wonky, though, characters are definitely not always on model, it’s not perfect but hey, 1997)

You should watch Utena. It’s available on Nozomi if you’re from Americaland, otherwise I’m sure you’ll find a way to stream it somewhere. Or buy the BluRay.

So, Utena has a “Duel of the Week” format, it follows a clear formula. And just like Miraculous, it recycles animation and some sentences are said at least once or twice per episode. Hell, Miraculous references Utena quite a few times (but I’ll make a post just for that).

Having a repetitive formula does not mean you cannot have a sense of progression. And Utena shines because of that. Things… Things have consequences, a duel leads to another because of reasons that become clear. It’s not a “we need that many episodes” thing, everything is needed, you cannot not watch an episode, even the recap ones, even the Nanami ones, especially the Nanami ones (Nanami who is a much better Chloé than Chloé is).

Unlike Miraculous, Utena has an overarching plot, you can’t play the episodes in any order. Repetitions and variations are meaningful in Utena, it is not simply a matter of style, or rather, style in Utena is meaningful, not only there for “the show”, a spectacle which in itself is meaningful too. Hell, everything in Utena is meaningful. Meaningful. Could you imagine that much meaning in Miraculous? Me neither.

But, you may say, you’re not fair; you’re comparing Miraculous, a show aimed at schoolchildren, with Utena, an anime aimed at an older audience.

And you wouldn’t be entirely wrong if you thought so. Which is why I’ll reiterate my point with a show for which Thomas Astruc himself worked.

Code Lyoko

Code Lyoko is super formulaic, replace Hawk Moth with XANA and superpowers with going inside a computer and that’s about it. It recycles a lot of its animation, the character design is… A bold choice. I barely watched it when I was younger though it was a pretty big thing for us Frenchies  (but hey it’s available on YouTube now in French so I binged the entire thing in a few days and while it’s not groundbreaking, it does some things really well)

Code Lyoko is all that, repetitions, terribly formulaic, XANA-tised person/plushie of the week thing with towers to deactivate and whatnot, and a “return to the past” to erase whatever has occurred during the episode. Literally. 

But. 

Once again, a visible overarching plot, and can you believe it, things have consequences. William is lost on Lyoko, and the kids spend episodes looking for him. There’s romance, and though it is dealt with clumsily, there’s a sense of progression to it. Things… Happen… With… Consequences.

Miraculous is, for the most part, an inconsequential show

Yeah, the problem with Miraculous is that its overarching plot is muddy and flimsy, the status quo is very much that, I’d argue that it’s a show in which nothing truly happens because nothing has consequences. I mean… Nino and Alya are dating, I guess? Adrien… Is still allergic to pigeon feathers? There are sometimes more than just two heroes? But it doesn’t really matter.

And Oblivio is the perfect example of that.

That’s the message of the episode. Even if we forget things, it still works, there is no need for memory, for remembering what has happened in all the previous episodes because we still make it work somehow. What happened before this episode does not matter to the story we are telling now.

The show keeps telling the same things about its characters, over and over, and whenever something new is introduced… Well it’s great but don’t expect to see it in the episodes after that one.

Which is why specials, story arcs which last two episodes, are good. There is room for developed character moments, interesting interactions, plot, sometimes good fights too. Chloé shines in Queen’s Battle, “Origins” is, for me, probably the best bunch of episodes in the entire show so far because things happen and we can see change happening. Like, actual change. Characters who learn how to do stuff, whose interactions with one another changes over the course of these two episodes. 

Outside of this however… Here, have that very important book, we’ll see it in one or two episodes because we need a macguffin and voilà. Here, have new heroes, but don’t expect to see them after that episode, unless we need a real showdown. 

It’s hard to get hyped by Jeremy Zag’s posts, because no matter how cool Dragon!Kagami looks, because of that format of self-contained stories with the only connection being them being the same static characters. Kagami with a Kwami? Eh. It’ll be a one-off thing, sure it’ll be cool but to make the plot move on… Don’t sweat it. 

Speaking of Kagami, she is presented the exact same way in Frozer and Selfinsertepisode Animaestro, nothing has changed about the character, don’t worry, she’s still going to be used the exact same way, perhaps we’ll show once again that she really cares for Adrien but hey, we already knew that, there’s nothing new in Onichan. And that is symptomatic of the entire cast.

Is that format something the creators of the show absolutely wanted? Is near-stagnation what they wished for? Let’s decide it’s not their choice, and that they try their best with the limitations they have.

Would these flaws be this glaring if new episodes were aired weekly? Like, say, air three episodes during three weeks, a break and then some new episodes again? I think not. The wait and the lack of follow-up from one episode to the next makes them really noticeable, and watching them feels unfulfilling.

So that airing schedule I just suggested? That’s not how things work, that’s not how television works apparently and there’s nothing the people who work on Miraculous can ask about it. Thomas Astruc doesn’t know when the episodes will air, blah blah blah. Television networks not really caring about the shows they air? Never heard of that before, huh. SU

So I guess this is it, then. I hope you enjoyed this overlong post!

(shameful self-promotion moment, but about Kagami, I wrote a Kagaminette/Marigami fic, it’s 80,000 words so far and I update it on Mondays so give it a look if you want! It’s here.)

[plagg-o]

Of Mice and Magic

Another thing for @auyeahaugust that I will most definitely be continuing at some point! I have a much bigger plot in mind that didn’t make it into this introductory drabble. :) Day 6 - Hogwarts Words: 3,053

Marinette was completely zoning out at breakfast when a huge book dropped in front of her, making her nearly fall over. Whipping around, she was greeted with laughter. “Girl, you need to get it together.” Sandwiching herself in between Marinette and Nino, she indicated the textbook. “If you keep leaving things in our common room, they’re gonna get more than spills on the pages. I barely saved this from a runaway game of exploding snap.” “T-thanks, Alya,” She put the book away in her bag, somewhat sheepishly. “But you know, not every house uses their common room as a live-in demolition site.” She paused. “The very first night of the school year.” Gryffindors, she thought, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Hey, it’s way more fun that way.” She paused, snatching Marinette’s schedule from the table on the opposite side of her. The first day of classes was always an adjustment…relearning everyone’s schedules, having to find a way to fit things in with the new schedules, preparing for new rants and new stories. “You’ve got potions first?” “Yeah. Double Potions.” Marinette groaned, which earned her a side-eyed glance from her friend. She wasn’t surprised at that reaction — she usually loved Potions. “…with Slytherin this year.” “Ouch.” But now Alya was smirking. “Professor Mendeleiev has a habit of mixing houses for her pairs, too.” She could almost see the wheels turning in those hazel eyes, and Marinette found herself groaning again. “Ugh! Thanks for making it worse.” Hufflepuff and Slytherin had Potions together two years ago, and it wasn’t that she had a problem with them — not more than any of the rest of the school, anyway — but Mendeleiev had decided to pair her with Chloé. And she didn’t think she could handle that again. “Hey, better to know what you’re facing.” Alya was snickering. She got to deal with Ravenclaw for Potions — of course she could laugh about it. “I knew, I just didn’t remember!” Frowning, Marinette took a drink of water, glaring at the schedule as it fluttered back down to the table, as if she could change it by staring alone. “Anyone but Chloé again.” She paused, and added almost as an afterthought, “…or Adrien.”

“Hey now, I thought you’d finally warmed up to him?” Nudging her, Alya grinned. “Didn’t he make everything up to you last year?” Blanching, Marinette held her hands up. “I-it’s not that! I mean, yes, he — it’s an adjustment, okay? I spent almost three years hating the guy, I’d just rather … from a distance…” Her voice trailed off. Reaching across the table and popping a piece of toast in her mouth, Alya started laughing again. “I think this has more to do with your new inability to string two sentences together when he’s around.” She gave a pointed glance a few seats down, to where Luka and Juleka were discussing something quietly. “Reminds me of a certain someone…?” “It would affect my grades!” She huffed. “He can’t be that nice. Not after that long of thinking he wasn’t. It always throws me off.” She leaned in towards Alya, conspiracy coloring her tone. “Maybe that’s his whole reason. He’s secretly making fun of me.” She was joking — well, half-joking, anyway — and she couldn’t help but have a small laugh of her own as her words were met with another eye-roll. “Marinette, chill, we’ve been over this. I think you can stop being suspicious and just admit that you’re in love with the guy.” She didn’t stop talking long enough to notice Marinette’s glare. “We all know you go from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye.” Alya smirked. “And besides, he is that nice. You know how much he and Nino hang out, I’ve been telling you since day one.” She didn’t get a chance to offer a retort as the owl post came, and her gaze flew up as packages and letters started dropping down. There were usually few things to deliver on the first day of classes, but there were a few people who always got something, and if she was right ——  “Tikki!” She spotted the tiny owl right before she swooped down and dropped a little package on the table, flying around and perching on her shoulder and dipping her beak into Marinette’s cup for a drink of water. “Thanks, Tikki,” she said with a smile as the owl nuzzled her cheek, almost as if giving her a little kiss before flying off to the owlery. “Please tell me those are some of your dad’s macarons.” Alya was already opening the package before Marinette had finished reading the letter from her parents, wanting to make sure she’d arrived safely and that everything was going well so far. When she looked up, Alya was giving her a thumbs up, a macaron already in her mouth. “Score!” ——— Not long into Potions, Marinette’s worst fears came true. Professor Mendeleiev might as well have thrown a boggart in her face when she determined Marinette and Adrien would be partners — for the entire term. She’d never had trouble with the class in the past — in a way, mixing potions reminded her a lot of baking — but no matter what she did, when he was around she became…clumsy. A recent and rather inconvenient development — and it wasn’t exactly a good thing when exact measurements were required. And of course it would be this year that she was paired with him — she’d spent the previous three hating him, and she would have hated it but she could have managed her work easily enough if it had happened sooner. When Chloé had been her partner, she had dreaded every potions class, but their intense competition put them at the top of the class, always trying to outdo the other — this year would be a challenge. If Adrien had noticed the change in her behavior, he didn’t comment on it, instead putting his textbook between them so they could share as they worked on their assignment: a wit-sharpening potion. How poetic. If only she could take the potion now. Marinette pulled out the ginger root, placing it between them wordlessly. Maybe if she didn’t have to talk, she’d do just fine. Adrien, apparently, had other ideas. “Did I see you at the Gryffindor table during breakfast?” “A-ah, y-yes! Yeah, um, we switch around.” She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened that way, honestly — it hadn’t been common practice for people from different houses to eat at different tables until her friend group had started it in their first year. Mostly, the Slytherin table remained the same, but now it was hardly uncommon to find three or four different houses represented at one table. Had he really not noticed before? Just then Adrien reached for the armadillo bile and Marinette yelped. “Wait, not yet!” She’d stopped him just in time, pointing to the book. “We have to wait until it’s bile gleam — lime green,” she caught herself…kind of. “Um,” she mumbled, noticing half the class staring at her — had she really been that loud? — and she looked at Adrien apologetically. “Sorry! Sorry.” The silence stretched between them until the potion shifted to the correct color. “It’s Ravenclaw at lunch today,” Marinette said finally as he mixed in the bile, the potion turning into a pretty blue color. “You and Nino are close, right? He’ll be there!” “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh, though she couldn’t help but noticed it lacked the malice she’d once thought was present, “is that actually an invitation? From you?” She was pretty sure he was teasing her, and she was pretty sure she didn’t like it. Which, at least, had the added benefit of making her less nervous. “Yeah, well. If you hadn’t been joining us because you didn’t know and not because you didn’t want to — now you know.” After that, they managed to settle into a somewhat-comfortable silence. By the end of the class, their potion was the only dark orange one in the room, and Marinette began to think they might just be able to pull this off after all. ———— “You did what?!” Alya’s pleased yelp came barely three feet away from the door to the classroom and Marinette felt a rush of panic. “Shhhh. Could you keep it down?” “I’m sorry, girl, I’m just surprised you were able to have a normal, maybe even friendly conversation with him.” Just then, Adrien walked past them — Marinette could swear he was smirking. Great. He definitely heard us. Alya put her arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders as she laughed. “So, Adrien Agreste might be eating with us at lunch today.” Marinette nodded. “At the Ravenclaw table.” Another nod. “With one Luka Couffaine.” Blue eyes widened, and Marinette shook her head. “I-it’s not like that! You know I’m still hopelessly in love with—” Suddenly Alya jerked her back, cutting off her words — right as Luka walked past them, though he didn’t appear to have heard anything she had said, thankfully. “Close call.” Alya grinned. “You were saying?” “I’m just…trying to make up for the past few years. Sure, I get flustered around him, but it’s not because I have feelings for him! Unless the feeling is ‘confusion.’” Shaking her head, she found herself leaning against the wall. “I thought maybe we could be friends.” Mimicking her friend’s movements, Alya leaned against the wall, arms folded across her chest. “You know, I think he thought you were friends before. Or was maybe trying to be your friend, at least.” She shrugged. “Nino hasn’t said much about it, but he’s mentioned that he wished more people gave him a chance. He’s pretty much always stuck with Chloé when they don’t.” “Was he really there for three whole nights?” The question was a whisper. It was a question Marinette had asked dozens of times, and for some reason, each time she expected to receive a different answer. Alya sighed. “Yeah, girl. He was waiting to make sure you were okay, just like the rest of us.” Bumping their shoulders together, she smiled. “Except he was the first there and the last to leave — only because not all of us could afford to skip out on all our classes, mind you.” Marinette couldn’t bring herself to look up, but she continued on anyway. “And he was the one who turned in Chloé, and he got in trouble from the Headmaster for being involved, even though he wasn’t.” She grabbed Marinette’s wrist, pulling her towards the corridor. “And we’re going to be late if we have to have this same conversation in between every class!” ————— By the time lunch rolled around, Marinette’s stomach was in knots. So much so that she ended up bailing altogether — she only felt slightly guilty as she entered the common room, letting her bag fall to the ground with a soft thud. “You don’t usually miss lunch.” She would have jumped, if she hadn’t been expecting it — Marc was good at going unnoticed, but Marinette had always been good at noticing him anyway. She put on a smile. “Hey, Marc. I’m not hungry today, but I’ve already got several pages of parchment worth of homework so I thought — better get a head start on it?” She doubted he bought the excuse, not really, but he didn’t press her on it. “But this year, I’m gonna successfully drag you along with me. One of these days,” she teased, and he laughed sheepishly in return. Just as she settled herself down comfortably and pulled out her books, Marc stood up. “Well, I was just about to grab something from the kitchens — want me to grab you anything, uh, in case you get hungry?” He waved his hands in front of him. “I know you just said you weren’t, but—” “That would be awesome, actually, thanks!” Now that she wasn’t facing a lunch potentially seated next to Adrien, the knots had subsided, after all — and she figured she should eat something if she was going to survive the rest of the day. “Want any help?” She was already making a move to get up when he shook his head, saying he had it handled. She was sure he was right — Marc liked to eat alone, mostly, and he’d befriended a great number of the house elves — she had walked in on them coming to visit him more than once. Lunch came to a close, and Marc and Marinette found themselves rushing to Defense Against the Dark Arts. They had barely crossed the threshold of the classroom when Professor D’Argencourt began standing in the front of the class, bellowing out his orders. “Books away, wands out! Today, we duel!” It wasn’t a surprise, really — D’Argencourt liked to begin his terms with a little friendly dueling, especially considering everyone had been out of practice with magic for the summer holiday — but Marinette’s last experience with dueling had been…less than ideal. Before she knew what was happening, her friends had all but circled her, backs facing her as they looked at D’Argencourt. “Is this exercise mandatory?” Max’s was the first hand to rise, but he didn’t wait to be called on before he spoke. D’Argencourt looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Of course it’s mandatory! It’s always mandatory!” Nate’s was the second hand in the air, and he followed Max’s lead. “But shouldn’t there be…” he glanced at Marinette out of the corner of his eye, “…exceptions?” “Didn’t you hear what happened?” Rose’s voice rang out; she didn’t bother to raise her hand. Finally, D’Argencourt scanned the room, really looking at his students, before his eyes landed on Marinette. “Oh, you’re the one who got into that little scuffle last year?” Half the room gasped at hearing it referred to as a scuffle, but he continued on. “But the only thing to do in that situation is keep at it, get better! You’ll never learn from anything if you give up after a mistake,” he waved his hand. “Books away, wands out,” he said again, and began directing them to line up on different sides of the room. “I’m fine, guys,” Marinette murmured with a forced smile. “It’s not like Chloé is here. There’s no one who actually wants to hurt me.” She glanced at their teacher’s back, shaking her head. “And I guess he’s right, it’s better to be prepared to defend myself, anyway.” Wands out, everyone was lined up to begin their dueling practice when the door to the room cracked open. D’Argencourt was prepared to give the student who had interrupted a talking to — until he saw that it was Adrien. Marinette almost didn’t catch herself before a giggle escaped her lips; watching his fuse fizzle out in an instant was comical to watch. “Professor — sorry to interrupt — but the Headmaster wants to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng right away.” D’Argencourt made a face before gesturing for her to leave, and Marinette felt her face flush. It’s only the first day of classes. What could I have done now? She gathered her things slowly as her classmates watched quietly on, and exited the room with her face down, following Adrien wordlessly. It wasn’t until she glanced up a few minutes later that she realized they were nowhere near the Headmaster’s entrance. “Uh—?” Adrien laughed. “I thought you might not want to take part in D’Argencourt’s little start of the year tradition.” Putting his hands in his robes, he shrugged, grin on his face. “I also didn’t think he’d actually let you pass on it, so I thought I’d lend a hand.” Now Marinette was flushing for a different reason. Alya must have tipped him off about her next class, and she didn’t know exactly what to feel. An increasingly present problem, when Adrien was involved. Had he always been this considerate? “I—thank you, I…wasn’t ready.” “Yeah, well, who would be, after Chloé—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “After what happened. He wasn’t there, so he wouldn’t know — I think the whole thing was downplayed by most of the school.” It made sense, honestly; most people saw the whole ordeal as something to joke about — only Marinette’s friends seemed to know the extent of what had happened. And Adrien. “I’m sorry.” Marinette stopped dead in her tracks, and Adrien turned around with a look of surprise. She was looking down at her feet, clutching her bag tightly to her chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance before.” He lifted up her chin so she could see his grin. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about that when you didn’t show up for lunch, you know.” He took a step back, giving her some space — likely because she looked like she was about to faint from the brief contact, she admitted — and she shook her head hurriedly. “T-that’s not—” She swallowed, too flustered to get the rest of her sentence out. She could see it in his face — he did enjoy this — her being like this…but it didn’t bother her like it had before. “Did you have fun? Gonna — gonna keep switching around with us?” Adrien smiled. “Yeah, I think I will, when I can anyway.” Suddenly, his hand was on her shoulder, and again she felt like her knees might give way. “And hey, don’t worry about it. Better late than never, right?” He winked and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. “We’ve still got four years of school together, after all.” When she didn’t respond — unsure if she was even capable of response — Adrien leaned in close to her, and Marinette found herself leaning back. He was smiling, waiting for confirmation or rejection or — what? Finally, she managed a weak, “Y-yeah,” and his smile widened. “Great — then let’s make up for lost time.” He held his hand out to her, and time stopped when she reached out and took it, and when he started to run she found himself following him despite having no idea where they were going. There was only one coherent thought rumbling around in her brain: Alya is never going to let me hear the end of this.

[residentanchor]

The Seeds We Sow Ch. 6

<<Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Patton promised Prince Logan he wouldn’t wander off on the one full day he was at the castle... Word count: 8064 Warning: depictions of violence and death.

Patton had stayed by Logan's side for the remainder of the day upon his arrival, curiously walking around the castle in awe as he was led about. Logan kept away from the library but that hadn't stopped Patton's quiet laughter every time someone came up and greeted him, happy to see him without a book in his hand. Despite everything going on, the prince was determined Patton was not to leave his side until they left, knowing his sudden disappearance could seem suspicious and wasn't willing to risk Patton being discovered.

While Patton thoroughly enjoyed Logan's cautiousness, he thought he was being a bit silly. Rumors of Logan hiring someone magical at the castle was never confirmed and no one knew where they had worked if it was even true. They kept Patton's past secret so there was no way of anyone recognizing Patton or knowing what he was capable of.

Of course, Logan was adjusting his shirt and making sure he was presentable while Patton watched curiously from the side of the bed. "Why can't I go with you?"

Logan sighed and turned to Patton, finding his appearance acceptable. "Patton, I have dinner with King Asher and Prince Roman every evening, it would be very informal and rude of me to bring a guest. You will be brought to a room and your dinner will be brought to you. You'll be fine on your own if you do not wander off."

Patton huffed and leaned back, propping himself up on his hands. "They won't know by just looking at me, Logan. I'm smarter than that. I want to meet Roman!"

"I know, but I'm not willing to risk it." Logan walked over to the bed and Patton sat up once more. "They have a way of checking no one who works here has magic and I haven't figured out how yet. Until then, I plan on keeping you out of sight."

"Fine, I'll be good." Patton frowned and looked away. "Sounds boring, though."

There was a brisk knock on the door and Logan turned to answer it. "You can have plenty of adventures when we return back home. We just have tomorrow and we depart the day after." Logan tugged on the door handle and opened it, jumping in surprise. "Prince Roman! What an unexpected surprise."

Roman just gave his signature smirk as he answered, "Yes well I hear you have a guest! Your servant will show them to their room as we go have dinner. Unless they would like to join us?"

Logan watched Roman not so subtly peer over his shoulder as he stood taller and raised an arm to block his view. "I appreciate it but they can simply have their dinner brought to their room if you would be so kind."

Roman leaned back and crossed his arms, smiling brighter. "Now, Logan. I'm sure they could decline my offer themselves if they so wish! No need to speak for them." He leaned in a bit and watched Logan with suspicion. "It's almost as if you're hiding them from me."

"Oh, I wonder why I would do something like that," Logan muttered, playfully glaring down the other prince.

Logan felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, revealing Patton's smiling face up at the two. "Well, he does have a point. I should at least decline the offer myself, it would only be proper." Logan reluctantly took a step back and watched Patton carefully before looking over at Roman, trying to hide his worry. "It's an honor to meet you, Prince Roman." Patton gave a formal bow to the other prince. "I apologize for the abrasive behavior Prince Logan tends to have toward others he has just met." Patton stood up tall as Logan lifted his glasses up and rubbed his eyes at Patton's statement. "I hope he has been treating you fairly well."

Roman looked over at Logan who shifted his spectacles and looked at the other unamused. He smirked and covered his mouth as his shoulders shook with laughter. Roman tried to hide it behind a fake cough and smiled at Patton, reaching out a hand. "Well, I certainly see why Logan has tried hiding you from me." He took Patton's hand and pulled it up, giving it a soft kiss in greeting. "You are simply enchanting, and honestly quite stunning."

Patton giggled at that, smiling brighter. "Oh my, thank you, your majesty."

"Please, just Roman would do. Would you honor me by joining us for dinner? I absolutely insist." Patton carefully retreated his hand and looked over at Logan. "Unless there's something your not telling me?"

Logan jumped at the statement and flushed a bit. "No, of course not, I was just-"

Patton's laughter cut him off and they both turned and looked at him. "Poor Logan is just worried because I'm pretty tired from my travels." He turned and looked up at Roman and bowed his head. "I'm afraid I will have to decline. However, if it truly upsets you, I'd be more than happy to join you tomorrow evening."

Logan seemed to ease a bit at that and Roman looked up at him and smirked. "I see, I think I'm beginning to understand. Well, if you could at least honor me with your name, I'll make sure you are taken to your quarters to get some food and rest."

"My name is Patton."

"Well then, Patton." Roman leaned in close, stopping just by Patton's ear. "I do hope Logan takes good care of you." He whispered before he pulled away, meeting Logan's eyes as he folded his hands behind his back. "Reggie, make sure Patton is brought to his room and fed before returning to the dining hall." He turned and started walking down the hallway. "Come, Logan! We shan't keep my father waiting longer!"

Reginald took a step to the side and instructed Logan's servant Henry properly. Henry nodded in understanding before he took a step closer and motioned for Patton to follow. Patton waved at Logan and started down the hall before the other prince turned the opposite way. Logan kept his pace right behind Roman's and remained quiet the entire walk. As soon as the dining room doors were within view, Roman stopped and turned to Logan.

"Is there something the matter, Roman?" Logan asked.

Roman shook his head. "No, just curious as to why you haven't asked what I told Patton. That confident he will tell you, hmm?"

Logan scoffed and walked past toward the dining hall. "I'm sure it wasn't important."

"Are you even aware of your feelings?" Logan stopped walking but did not turn around. "So protective of some random civilian, I'm quite surprised."

"I am more than aware of my fondness for Patton." Logan turned and glared at Roman. "Do not consider that a weakness, Patton is fully capable of taking care of himself. It would not be wise to upset me either."

Roman smiled and shook his head. "Yes, I get it. No flirting with Patton. Now I understand why my advances had no effect on you."

Roman entered the dining hall as Logan's face grew red and he fought to form his words. "No, that's not... why... Augh, you are insufferable."

---

While Patton had declined the offer for Logan, he was truly tired from his travels. Shortly after eating and cleaning himself off, Patton had fallen asleep almost immediately in the comfortable bed provided for him. This was not as nice as Logan's own room but it was certainly nicer than he was used to.

Though, Patton was always an early riser and the sweet allure of the bed when he woke did nothing to stop him from diving head first into the day. He knew he would have to get dressed and work quickly before Logan realized he was breaking the one rule the other put upon him. He knew Logan didn't want him wandering off but he also knew Logan and Roman had one last meeting today before they left the next morning. Shortly after breakfast was served early at his request, Patton ate quickly and left his room, not surprised he was left to his own devices.

Making his way through the halls, Patton knew he would find what he was looking for sooner or later. After running to a guard, he politely introduced himself and asked for directions to the castle's medical wing, wanting to meet up with the physician here. Lucky for him, it didn't seem suspicious for him to want to talk to those in the same field of work.

When Patton entered the room, he was greeted by an elderly woman running around, not noticing he was there. He took a step back and knocked on the door to announce himself. The woman looked up and smiled, running over.

"What seems to be the problem dear?" She eyed Patton up and down. "No visible injuries, do you have a fever?" She reached up and grabbed his face carefully, moving a hand to his forehead. "No, not that." She pulled back and watched him carefully. "Well, speak up! Can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

Patton smiled at the elderly woman who watched him with concern. "No, I'm sorry. I'm perfectly fine! Actually, I work for Prince Logan and--"

"Oh goodness!" She jumped and took a step back. "Is he fairing alright?"

"Yes, he was fine the last I saw him." The woman relaxed and looked confused. "He sent a letter, saying someone had come to him with a concern. I was just wondering if I could talk to you about that a bit? If it wasn't any trouble."

"Oh goodness, gracious!" The woman jumped and her face grew red. "I'm so embarrassed! That was me, dearie, I'm the one who talked to him about that poor child. He must have sent a letter immediately for you to even be here!" She glanced back at a closed door before turning her attention back to Patton. "The name is Mary, dear."

The woman stepped out of the way and waved him in. Patton nodded in thanks as his eyes observed the room. It was much like his in a lot of ways but missing a few staple things Patton kept on hand. "So I was hoping you could elaborate a bit more on what you are concerned with?"

The woman sighed and ran into a doorway, peering in carefully before pulling back. "I'm afraid I only know what I've overheard. The boy stops in early morning some days when he is feeling a bit worse than normal. I'm a maid, not much of a medicine woman. I don't know much else besides that, I just help clean when I can. Old enough to have picked up a few things while the lady rests but not much more." She walked over to Patton and took his hands in hers. "Look, I'm sorry you came all this way but we won't be much help. The missus doesn't share private information and she'll be rather upset when she wakes up and your here asking questions."

Patton nodded and his shoulders fell a bit. "Of course. I'm sorry I can't be of much help, then."

The elderly woman's hands shook as she stared up at Patton. After a moment of silence, she leaned in closer. "That boy has a small garden just outside of town. Learned what he could to take care of himself. I know he's going there today, you might catch him if you hurry. His name's Virgil, a young lad your age." She leaned back and pulled a hand away to motion to her face. "Lad hides that precious face of his away behind his hair, you would miss him if you're not careful. I do hope you catch him, I worry about him going out all alone."

Patton nodded and smiled, shaking her hand that still held his. "Thank you. I can't promise anything but I'll try my best. I think I just need a moment to talk to him."

With a silent farewell, Patton quietly left the medical wing and slipped out into the castle halls. He looked around and found the fastest way to the front, hoping if this 'Virgil' hadn't left he had time to catch him. It was still early as the castle was still just starting to bustle with life. Patton nodded and announced to a guard he wished to explore the town on his only day here, informing them he would be returning later. After a nod, he ran off into the town happily to investigate.

The town had more life than he had expected at that hour as everyone in the streets seemed to have something to do. Street vendors grabbed his attention as he inspected nearby booths, most of them only selling food at such an hour. The whole center of town smelled of fresh bread as people rushed by, knowing exactly where they were going. Patton spun around swept up in it all and not paying attention to where he was going. He turned and tripped over his foot, stumbling into a stranger walking by and Patton fell back and stumbled into his path. The other's reflexes kicked in quickly as he reached up and grabbed Patton, holding him up and making sure he was steady. "Woah, sorry about that!" He smiled and dusted himself off. "Got a bit caught up in the sights, seems like I'm out of sorts a bit."

"Yeah, it happens." He tried to take a step to the side and Patton followed. "Sorry, excuse me."

"Of course, my bad! Oh, before you go, would you happen to know anyone nearby that works at the castle?" Patton blinked up at the stranger who watched him carefully. "See, I'm actually here visiting but I forgot to ask something and I don't want to overstep my boundaries!"

The man shifted uncomfortably and looked over his shoulder at the crowd. After scanning it he seemed to not find what he was looking for and let out a small sigh. "I mean, I don't think I can help, but I do... I mean..." He rubbed his arm uncomfortably. "I could show you someone you could talk to maybe?"

Patton perked up at those words, inspecting the man quickly. He fit the description Patton was given and he was starting to become sure this may be the one he was looking for. "Oh, no that's perfect! I just want to know if it's okay to explore the forest? I'm a physician and a bit of an herbalist and I wanted to check out the flora here but in my excitement, I kind of ran off alone."

He smirked a bit and nodded his head. "Yeah, it should be fine. I don't recommend going in too far in all alone, though."

"Oh, darn." Patton huffed a bit and turned back to the castle. "I kind of promised Lo I wouldn't leave. I maybe sort of snuck out? If I go back now I won't be able to leave again!" He turned back to the stranger and smiled up at him. "Actually, this lovely older woman told me someone was probably going out to the forest today and I was hoping to catch him. Do you know anyone named Virgil?"

The stranger jumped and blinked down at him. "W-who told you that?"

"Oh, she was this lovely older woman!" Patton moved his hands up. "About this tall? I believe her name was Mary but I could be wrong!" Patton watched the stranger sigh and cover his face with both his hands. "Hey, are you okay?"

His hands fell and he adjusted his hood. "Look, my name is Virgil and I'm headed out to the woods, but I don't know if you can really come with."

"Oh, I'll keep out of the way!" Patton smiled, holding up his hands in a pleading look. "Lo, and I leave tomorrow and this is my only chance!"

Virgil bit his lip as he tried to stay determined but his face fell as he sighed and gave in. "Fine, but stick close. When I get to where I'm going you'll need to keep your distance."

Nodding, Patton started bouncing up and down in excitement. "Oh, yay! This will be so much fun!" He held out a hand for Virgil. "My name is Patton!"

Virgil watched his hand closely before reaching out and giving it a quick shake, pulling his hand away quickly. "We need to go, I have to be back by a certain time if I want to get everything done today."

Patton followed Virgil excitedly, following him out of the town. Once they reached the path leading to the forest, Patton made sure they were alone before bouncing up to the other. "So, Virgil! Must have been fate that led me to you since you were the one I was looking for! I got distracted and still managed to bump into you."

Virgil snorted out a quick laugh. "Don't know if it was fate but you did get rather lucky." Virgil glanced over at Patton. "So why did that nosy old bat mention me anyway?"

Patton gasped and covered his mouth in shock. "That's not very nice! She was just concerned about you. Something about maybe not feeling up to going out alone?" Virgil almost seemed to growl at that, his pace picking up a bit more. "Sorry, was that bad? I'm sure she was just concerned!"

"I'm fine, she should keep her nose out of my business." Virgil reached up, the increased speed making his hood bounce around a bit. "I told her I'm fine!"

Patton jogged up and met up with him, Virgil slowing down once he had. "I'm sure she just wanted to make sure you were alright. You're still helping me out too." Virgil didn't answer and Patton weighed his options before speaking once more. "What would make her think you weren't up for it? You seem perfectly healthy."

"I'm fine, don't worry about it." Patton looked up at Virgil and decided to not press it any further.

Once they had entered the forest, Virgil suddenly seemed more at ease. He took a slow breath and relaxed, weaving through the trees with ease. Patton glanced around and recognized a lot of familiar plants he had seen before. He reached into his bag and pulled out his journal, flipping through carefully as they walked through. The noise distracted Virgil who continued walking after a curious glance.

They passed a small creek when Patton suddenly gasped, racing ahead and staring at a green bush on the path. "Oh my goodness, look at this!" Patton kneeled down as he flipped through his journal before stopping. He pulled a small part of the plant off and matched it to his book. "This doesn't grow back home, our old plant died after a bad storm. I have to bring this back!" Patton looked up at Virgil with a bright smile. "Would that be alright?"

Virgil looked at the bush curiously for a moment. "That's bo-uh... bo... buckthorn! Right?" Patton nodded and turned back to the plant. "That's practically a weed around here, go right ahead."

Patton was practically giddy as he pulled out gloves and a cloth bag, reaching down and digging out a bit of the root of the plant with a small trowel. He sat back up, partially covered in dirt and a few leaves stuck in his hair. He placed it in the pouch and tied it shut, standing up and holding it as if it were a treasure. "Oh, I'm so excited! I can't wait to tell Lo about this! It grows near water like that creek so I'll have to keep it to the side, maybe move something out of the way?" Patton muttered quietly as he talked to himself.

Virgil watched Patton hold the pouch closed and remove his gloves, hardly bothering to shake them of dirt before putting them away. Virgil chuckled and shook his head, gaining Patton's attention. He reached over and pulled out a lead, brow raised in amusement. Patton simply ran a hand through his locks, obviously used to the behavior. "You certainly are one for plants, huh?"

"Well of course! It's my job! It's not an uncommon plant but there aren't any to replant back home closer for me to use so might as well get it while I'm here!" Patton placed the cloth pouch into his bag. "If I take care of it I should manage to keep it alive before we get home."

"If you manage to keep that alive for more than a day like that, I'll be impressed." Virgil walked onward, deeper into the forest, completely missing Patton place a small enchant on the bagged plant to keep it alive. "Come on, it's still a bit further in."

Patton raced ahead, falling into step with the other. "Where are you headed?"

"There's this small garden I have hidden in the forest. The darned plant wouldn't take anywhere else but seems to love this one spot." Virgil huffed, seemingly a bit annoyed. "It's a pain but it's worked so far. I've asked everyone but the conditions are so specific that I'm not really willing to risk moving it somewhere else anymore."

Patton nodded and held his journal closer as he walked. "What kind of plant is it?" Virgil muttered something under his breath almost silently. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't quite know, exactly." Patton was shocked at that.

"W-well, what do you use it for if you don't know what it is?"

Virgil fell silent before looking down at Patton. Once their eyes met, Virgil quickly looked away almost embarrassed. "Look, I know what it can do and I'm sure someone's discovered it before I have, so I'm sure of the actual name but..." Patton perked up at the news of an almost unknown plant and kept quiet. Virgil chose to walk ahead, not bothering to finish his sentence.

They walked a bit more, Virgil helping Patton through the rougher areas and waiting patiently as he stopped and inspected a few more plants along the way. The small talk wasn't much, but Virgil seemed more at ease around Patton as he talked about all sorts of plant life. Virgil actually knew a fairly large amount himself but seemed to be terrible at naming them properly. Surely enough, Virgil suddenly stopped and looked around before looking down at Patton.

Patton smiled up at his silent escort. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

Virgil nodded and looked away before reaching up to a rather tall plant. "Promise to keep this secret? I know I won't be able to hide it from you, you're just a bit too curious." He looked over at Patton who nodded eagerly, eyes alight as he held his journal to his chest. "Thank you."

Virgil stepped through the large plant, trying not to get caught on any branches. Once he made it through, he seemed to have vanished as the bush formed back to its original form. Slowly, Pat reached forward and parted some of the branches, only to be met with more greenery. He braced himself and shut his eyes, marching through the plant and fighting with every tug he met along the way.

Very quickly, Patton was once more stumbling forward and being caught by Virgil before he fell. He slowly looked up and smiled, nodding a quick thanks to the other.

Patton turned and silently gasped at the tall towering purple and violet flowers before him. They stood at about half his height but their color stuck out like a sore thumb. They were gorgeous, but Patton felt a bit disappointed at the sight. "I... feel like I've seen these before."

Virgil chuckled and pulled out a small bag and gloves for himself, his a bit longer and more protective than the ones Patton had. "I can guarantee that you have not seen these before."

Flipping through his book, Patton stopped once he saw an old colored sketch of the same exact flowers in his book, quickly reading the section of it and jumping in shock. "Virgil! It's right here and it says these are poisonous!" Patton looked down as Virgil dug a bit with his hands, tugging at the base of the plant. "Virgil!"

He leaned back on his knees and turned to Patton. "Do you mind if I borrow that little shovel of yours? It'll come in handy for this."

Patton stomped his foot and held out his book, pointing to the page. "Look, it says right here! Picture and all, these are poisonous!"

Virgil rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "I'm not an idiot, just trust that I know what I'm doing. Now, could I please borrow that trowel?"

They had a small staredown, Patton puffing out his cheeks and Virgil smiling, almost amused. Suddenly, Patton let out a breath and deflated, reaching into his bag and pulling out the tool Virgil requested. The other turned and began digging, the flowers shaking as he tore at the roots. Virgil cried out happily and pulled back, holding up the roots to the plant, except...

"That doesn't look right!" Patton reached in and pulled out his own gloves, quickly putting them on and reaching for the roots. "They're thick and almost... bright blood red!" Virgil handed over the plant as Patton carefully inspected it, twirling it in his fingers.

"The plant is normally just regular Digitalis, but I call this version Dragon claws since they almost spread out and arch like a claw and they're so red." Virgil reached out and grabbed the root before quickly bagging it and reaching for more.

"You sound like Logan! It's just foxglove." Patton leaned in a bit more carefully. "Is it any more dangerous than normal?"

Virgil leaned back, a bigger chunk in hand with a smile on his face. "It is what it is, but boil some of this like a tea and the positive effects can outweigh the negative." He stuck it in the pouch and then wrapped it in cloth before carefully placing it in his small bag. Virgil carefully removed the gloves, the fingers turning inside-out as he did. "Just have to be careful, just touching the stuff can irritate you."

Patton removed his own gloves and stepped away from the pretty flowers. "I don't get it, what positive effects does this one have? Why is it red? I've never seen that before." Patton reached down and started writing notes in his journal on the side, lining it with question marks as he did. "I'll have to investigate that when we get back to the castle."

Virgil headed toward the bush that leads to their hidden exit. "I already told you, there's none at the castle, and I need this. Sorry, I'm not willing to share. Getting ahold of this stuff let alone letting it grow was a massive pain."

Patton tucked his journal away and headed over to Virgil. "Oh, not your castle, mine! I work in one back home."

Virgil froze and his hand fell off of the bush, taking a step back. "You what?" He blinked and his eyes widened. "Wait, did you say Logan earlier? As in Prince Logan?"

"Yeah!" Patton smiled up at him. "Lo, and I are pretty close! Why? Is something wrong?"

Virgil turned and looked at the weird faux foxglove plants and then back at Patton. "Was this- did... Did you even meet Mary?" He seemed to turn from shock to anger. "Did you trick me into bringing you out here?"

"What? No!" Patton frowned and held up his hands in defense. "I would never! I promised to keep this all secret and I will!" Patton frowned and lowered his hands slowly. "I honestly wanted to try and figure out why your symptoms sounded like you were being poisoned but now I see you're purposefully doing it. I can't imagine why, though."

Virgil's glare lessened and he turned away. "Look, it doesn't matter. The fact is that this stuff is helping keep me alive, that's all you need to know. So what if it's technically a poison? The way I take it, I'm fine."

"Wha-no! No, you're not fine! You're poisoning yourself! What are the benefits of keeping yourself alive if you hardly are alive to live it?" Virgil ignored Patton and quickly made his exit through the brush. "Hey!"

Patton dived through the leaves and emerged through the other side, almost running into Virgil's back as he stood there. "Look." He whispered. "I'd rather be almost dead than actually dead."

Patton reached up and rested his hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Is it... do you have magic?"

The word seemed to burn Virgil as he spun around and stepped away, surprised and frightened. "No! No, never! Don't accuse someone of that, it's a death sentence!"

Patton froze and looked around. They were deep in the woods and completely alone. Patton closed his eyes and took a slow breath, opening them and holding up a hand. He concentrated before his eyes flashed a golden color, a small light forming in the palm of his hand.

Virgil wasted no time, racing up and grabbing his hand, diffusing the magic before it could form. "Did you not hear me?!" He hissed angrily, glaring down at the other. "If King Asher even thought you could perform magic, you would be dead in an instant! Your precious prince wouldn't even be able to save you!"

Patton frowned and nodded, staring down at his feet. "Sorry, but... I just don't get it! Magic can be bad, but it can do so much good too!"

Virgil groaned to himself and pulled his hands away. "Patton, it's not..." Virgil spoke with a much softer tone, almost as if he were speaking to a child. "King Asher suffers from one of the worst illnesses in the world and there is no real cure." Patton looked up at Virgil who stared off in a daze. "He has a broken heart. He chooses to grieve by taking his frustration out on magic since it played a part in the tragedy."

Patton licked his lips, suddenly finding his mouth to be completely dry. "Lo thinks maybe Roman would understand and change his mind."

Virgil chuckled and shook his head. "I doubt it. The king has raised Roman to be filled with the same hatred, I'm sure he'll be just the same."

"He's not his father, you know," Patton whispered, almost afraid to speak the words. "You are not the actions of your parents."

Patton wasn't sure if his words encouraged the other or upset him, but he watched Virgil nod and wipe his eyes, turning away. "Maybe your right, who knows? Come on, we should head back."

---

Patton was greeted at the entrance by a different guard that morning who informed him that Prince Logan was expecting him. Patton laughed sheepishly, embarrassed he was caught. Virgil was nice enough to offer to lead him to Logan's room before running off. Despite all protests, Virgil started to grow to like Patton and wanted to just see him leave the castle safe the next day.

They were approaching the door when they heard a noise on the other side of Logan's room. Suddenly, the door fell and Prince Roman stumbled back, falling flat along with. Virgil panicked and raced forward, quickly helping up the prince and checking for injuries. Another servant ran up next to Patton and she covered her mouth in shock.

"You again," Roman muttered as he dusted himself off. "Trying to play hero?"

"No, sire." Virgil bowed his head and diverted his eyes. "I was informed Prince Logan wished to see Patton and I simply was escorting him here."

Roman looked over and saw Patton standing on the side, still covered in a bit of dirt but looking a bit concerned at the scene before him. "Ah, Patton! Well, looks like you had a bit of fun, hmm?" He stepped off of the broken door and glared down at it as if it had broken purposely on him. "Well, I know Logan has been going mad not knowing where you've been."

Logan peered out of the room and over at the others, jumping over the door and almost sprinting to meet them. "Patton!" He stopped and blinked up at Roman as he approached, clearing his throat and gathering himself. "I'm glad to see you're alright."

Roman gave a big hearty pat on the back to Logan as he laughed. "He's been concerned all day, pretending he wasn't wracked with worry. Quite amusing I may add. Now if I could only gain the worry of such a man myself."

Patton noticed Virgil behind Roman roll his eyes unamused and smirked a bit. "Sorry! I wanted to go see the forest and Virgil here was free this morning!"

Roman turned and looked at Virgil with a smirk. "Well, once again I am rather impressed with you. I do wish you told someone more than the castle guard at the front gate, though."

Virgil bowed quickly at the statement. "I'm terribly sorry, I caught up with him in town running errands and was unaware he was asked to stay within the walls."

"Don't bother apologizing." Logan sighed and turned to Patton. "He's stubborn and his pleading eyes could bring an army to their knees, you were defenseless against him." Virgil stood up and hid his laughter behind a quick cough.

"Well, do you have a moment?" Prince Roman intervened. "Do you know who could fix this door?" He waved to the hunk of wood on the floor that caused him to fall.

Virgil turned and inspected the door, looking at the hinges and nodding. "It's a simple fix, really. I can have it done before Prince Logan turns in for the night." Virgil turned and glared over at the servant that had been silent next to Patton. "Morgan."

The young woman jumped and tried to smile. "Y-yes, sir?"

"I'm not-nevermind." Virgil crossed his arms as he stared her down. "You'll keep watch and not touch anything while I get the materials to fix this, alright?"

She nodded and gave a quick curtsy before walking through the group and standing in the doorway. "Yes, of course."

"Aww, come on Virge!" Patton cried out suddenly. "No need to be so harsh on her."

Virgil looked over at Patton a bit confused. "Virge?" Patton shrugged and gave a small smile. "Well, Morgan here is new and under my training. She knows why I'm placing her here, correct?"

The young woman nodded and smiled up at Patton. "It's fine! Virgil has been rather sweet and understanding, truthfully."

"Nice won't get you to learn all the time." He muttered to her. "I'll go get what I need and return shortly."

"Okay, by Virgil!" Patton waved as the other smiled and ducked his head before quickly retreating. "He's so sweet if not a bit shy." Patton turned to Logan and his smile fell a bit. "Oh."

"Yes, Patton. Oh." Logan crossed his arms and stared him down. "I thought I asked you to stay here?"

"Technically you asked me to stay by your side, but you had that meeting and that sounded boring." Patton frowned at him, giving him his wide-eyed look. "I'm sorry, Lo. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Oh goodness," Roman muttered, turning his head away. "I see what you mean about the eyes, they're dangerous!"

"What about my eyes?" Patton tilted his head, completely unaware. Logan groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. "You okay, Logan?"

"I'm fine, Patton. Just, please... stay with me for the remainder of the day?"

"Okay, I promise this time I will." Patton smiled brightly, shifting his bag on his shoulder. "I got to see some cool plants too! I can't wait to show you later!"

"Did you find any for luck?" Roman asked, fixing his hair. "Everywhere I go it seems bad luck follows. First, those books in the library, then these drapes got caught on something, a small fire, now that darn door! It's like everything is hexed to break around me lately!"

Logan and Patton shared a quick look. "Is that possible?" Logan asked carefully.

Roman threw back his head and barked out a laugh. "Not in this castle it's not! Anyone officially working here is made sure they pass a test that would show if they had or used magic."

"Wow, y-you can do that?" Patton smiled through his slight slip up. "I didn't think it was possible."

"Well, we found a way. No one in these walls has magic or trust me, we'd know." Roman turned and walked down the hall. "Now, come! No need to stand around in this hall all day. You can get prepared for dinner in my quarters."

Logan bit his lip and prevented a groan from escaping. "Wonderful, thank you, Roman. How terribly kind." Logan's tone dripped with sarcasm but Roman chose to ignore every bit of it.

Surprisingly, they both managed to clean up and get changed for dinner, though mostly Patton since he was covered in dirt. All the while, Roman's flirting and advances seemed to have ceased, despite Logan's suspicions on the matter. Any time he even hinted at it, Roman turned from him and started talking to Patton, but just about what he did or knew. Logan wasn't certain but he was pretty sure the innocent questions weren't considered flirting so he let it be.

When dinner came around, Patton was both excited and nervous to meet the king. Roman had mentioned that Logan had a sudden visitor and King Asher was immediately interested in meeting the young man. Though, Patton fussed with his clothes a bit, more used to wearing scratchy fabric he rolled around the ground in and not nice, soft fabrics he wore now. Logan kept stopping him from fidgeting but Patton just couldn't help himself. Roman just chuckled at them when they bickered but otherwise kept to himself.

They entered the dining room and Patton was immediately taken back by the amount of food. He hesitated as a servant pushed in his chair before looking over at the head of the table. The king was just sitting as a glass of wine was poured for him. Picking it up, he raised it to the others with a smile. "Well, nice of you to join us tonight. What was your name? Pat?"

"P-patton!"

"Ah, yes. Patton! Seems you gave Logan here quite the scare with your disappearance." The king took a swig from his goblet, ignoring Logan's immediate dismissal of the comment. "Well, I sure hope your short stay has been satisfactory?"

"Oh, yes! It's been lovely, and so has everyone I've seen!" Patton smiled over at Roman. "The castle is much different from home too. It's so gorgeous, it's a shame we have to leave at sunrise."

"Ahh, but the sunrise from the front wall is the best in all the lands!" Roman almost mockingly swooned at his own words. "That will be quite a sight to see as you are sent off."

The conversation kept steady throughout dinner, Patton only being asked a few more questions about his work before Logan took over the conversation about politics. As mundane as it sounded, Roman got roped right into it, going on about what they had apparently talked about that afternoon.

Patton watched Virgil and the new servant Morgan slip in silently during dinner, almost unnoticed. Virgil met up with Reginald and leaned in close, whispering quietly. When he leaned back, Reggie nodded and waved them off. Morgan kept her head down as Virgil waved her silently along. He looked up and met eyes with Patton suddenly, giving a small smirk but otherwise pretending he wasn't there.

"Well, no need to get ahead of yourselves, boys!" King Asher called out, dragging Patton's attention back into the conversation. "I'm glad you are excited about all these ideas but I'm not sure you're quite ready to lead. That goes to both of you."

Roman dramatically rolled his eyes. "Father, I'm sure I can handle more than you let me! How am I to learn if you baby me the entire time? One day I will have to rule on my own."

"Exactly," Asher called out, growing serious. "You will have to rule without my guidance and what you choose to do will affect everyone that is a part of this kingdom. Your decisions are too brash and eager. You need to be completely thorough with everything you do." King Asher turned to Logan. "Especially you, young man. I don't know what your father was thinking, hiring a sorcerer and keeping it within your walls."

"What?" Roman perked up, staring at Logan in shock. "You have one working for you?"

"Whether or not that rumor is true matters not. As I understand your adverse desire to work with anyone of the magical sort, you must understand why I am more accepting of it."

King Asher brought his cup to his mouth and threw his head back, finishing it quickly. "Yes, of course." He slammed it down on the table before him. "One tricked you into believing it was good. How ignorant of you."

Patton's hands balled into fists as he smiled, unsure of where the conversation was leading. "I-i'm sorry. I heard it was a young boy who broke into the castle and risked his life to heal Prince Logan who was on his deathbed." Patton's unsure smile wavered a bit at his own words.

The king scoffed and watched his cup be refilled. "Yes, a small child happened to slip past your pathetic defenses and cure the plague he probably cast on the prince himself to win your favor."

"I'm not sure about that," Logan spoke up, keeping his attention on his food, though everyone had stopped eating at this point. "They were caught before they managed to leave and were thrown into the dungeon with a scheduled execution." Patton bit his tongue at the memory. "They were only released after they apologized for failing to save me, having believed I had perished. It was only when they were already at the stalks that the truth was revealed. My father was thorough in his decision. He truly was there to help save me and accepted his fate when he believed he had failed."

The king sneered and drank a bit more as Roman looked between the other two royals. "I-i'm sorry... Father, you had never told me that. I knew Logan was sick when we were younger but you said we sent a physician and he improved."

"Not at all, no one had managed to heal me. It took the son of a sorcerer to gain the courage to do anything. I would be dead now otherwise."

"Ha!" King Asher sneered over at Logan. "All stories. That boy probably was trying to lay a curse on you."

"Wait, but you just said that he probably planted the curse himself the first time," Roman asked, watching his father closely. He seemed unsure and confused, looking back at the other two across the table.

"Of course the little brat did! Magic is no good!"

"Well, which is it then, father?" The king turned to his son. "I'm just trying to understand but none of this makes sense."

Patton looked over at Logan who was watching Roman quite carefully. Logan looked almost hopeful as the young prince finally stood up and challenged his father for the truth. Certainly not anywhere near close to accepting magic but much closer than they were a week ago.

The dining hall doors flew open and a guard from the outside fell in onto the floor with a cry. The man dressed in rags stood before them turned to the approaching guardsmen and shouted in anger. He raised his arms as they started to glow, magic being brought forth. A sorcerer. He turned and reached out toward the sword of the approaching guard. His eyes almost seemed to glow as he elbowed the guard and threw his other arm to the side. The sword fell out of the guard's hand and flew toward another one approaching, piercing him in the stomach as he fell forward.

Before Patton even understood what was happening, Logan launched out of his seat and pulled Patton up with him, both their chairs scuffing against the ground. "Patton, we need to go!"

Logan gripped under Patton's arm tighter as he pulled, Patton's eyes never leaving the attacking sorcerer. He stumbled backward and broke eye contact with the battle, turning and looking at Logan who seemed panicked as he looked around. Patton looked over and saw King Asher at the head of the table, demanding the sorcerer be stopped at any cost. Roman was standing, a sword in his hand as he glared down and was prepared to fight, though Patton was unsure where the weapon came from in the first place.

"This way!" Patton and Logan stopped as Virgil appeared, pulling a tapestry to the side and revealing a door. "Quickly!" He frantically waved them over, keeping an eye on the mayhem behind them.

Patton turned back toward the others. "Roman! Your majesty!" Both royals either ignored the call or didn't hear him, the sorcerer suddenly jumping up on the table and kicking the silverware out of his way, marching toward the king.

"Patton, we have to go!" Patton refused to look away and shook his head. Logan reached over and grabbed Patton's arm once more. "Patton, please!"

"We can't leave them, Lo!" Another guard tried attacking the sorcerer and was quickly brought down. Patton's mind raced as he flexed his fingers anxiously. "I'm not leaving them!"

"I'm not letting you get killed!" Logan spun Patton around and stared down at them. "Trust them, they have to know what they're doing! We are getting to safety, now!"

A loud and familiar cry brought their attention back as they saw the sorcerer lower his hands from Roman's direction. Roman was falling backward, someone on top of him and in direct line of the magic that shot out of the sorcerer's hands. Not hesitating another moment, the man turned toward the king who watched his son fall from the attack in fear, raising a hand and launching another burst of energy.

"No!" The sorcerer was suddenly flying across the table as someone marched forward, proud and tall. "I will not let you hurt anyone else!" They jumped up on the table as the other sorcerer stood up, staring each other down.

"Morgan?" Patton muttered, watching the new servant in training fire magic at the attacking sorcerer.

"Patton." At the broken sound of his voice, Patton turned and watched Logan once more, shaking where he stood. "Please..."

Logan looked scared and near tears, body shaking but not leaving without him. Virgil still held open the escape but seemed too surprised at what was happening to pay any attention to them. "Okay," Patton whispered, nodding. "Let's go."

Logan let out a sob of joy and relief as Patton tugged on his arm this time, racing through the door. As they passed, Virgil turned and looked at them with a grim look on his face. He turned and looked at the battle once more before biting his lip and shaking his head. "Go down the hall, third door on your left." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a key, holding it up. "Lock yourselves in, okay? I'll be there once it's safe."

"Virgil, you have to-" Patton tried to speak but the key was suddenly thrust into his face.

"My job is to the throne here. Get yourselves to safety, please."

Patton could still feel Logan shaking in his hand as Virgil looked at him with pleading eyes. He sighed and grabbed the key. "Third door, got it." Virgil turned to run into the chaos once more. "Don't die, Virgil! Please!"

Patton turned and looked at the fighting, the guards swarming the table and cutting everything out of his view. Patton saw Logan and nodded before they ran down the hall, away from the battle and into safety. Chapter 7>>

[aerialflight]

Thor Ragnarok (Time Travel)

Notes: I literally wrote this all in one go. The idea was inspired due to @adelmortescryche ‘s influence and I still can’t believe I wrote this to be honest. I had a lot of fun doing it though! I hope you all enjoy and comment or reblog at the end!

AO3

Tony was so fucking tired that it’s impressive that he was still awake at all.

After putting a lock on Loki who looked contrite at being caught and not, you know, trying to take over the world, the Avengers – a name that they’re sticking to no matter how comic-book based it sounded – had a grim Thor and disgruntled Hulk looking after him since Loki seemed oddly wary of the big green guy. Which, of course, should be utilized at all cost.

After they took care of that mess, they got to the slow labor part of the job. Of being superheroes.

What even was his life anymore these days?

Anyway, by this point he was running on adrenaline and sharp urgency that drove him to broken buildings that had people crushed under the debris of battle, directing people to hospitals, or reuniting families that weren’t together during the alien attack on New York.

And wow, that’s a sentence he never thought would cross his mind out of a sci-fi movie. This was so not how he wanted to be first introduced to legit aliens.

Tony pushed forward though, backed up by Captain America and Black Widow who proved to be soothing presences to the mass of people frantically trying to go home or find their loved ones in this whole doomsday scenario gone very wrong that turned out semi-alright in the end.

He ended up lugging Hawkeye around periodically as the man’s bird-eye view (ha!) sharply picked out which areas of the city they circled around needed help. Telling this information through the coms to the rest of the team had them quickly operating on an efficient system that worked out well for them. Something that surprised Tony for all their rocky starts and issues with each other as a unit.

Well, he figured, there were some things you couldn’t share without ending up liking each other, and stopping an alien invasion was one of them.

The process took hours and by the time the situation was well-handled by the police who could take care of the rest, Tony was ready to collapse the moment he landed with Hawkeye in his arms towards the group all gathered in the middle of a broken street under an equally wrecked lamppost that was crookedly bending in the wrong direction.

Thor and a now haggard looking Bruce Banner were there too, Loki hazardously thrown over Thor’s shoulder like a body bag. The almost-conqueror now conquered was glaring heatedly at them all, not talking due to-

“Is that duct tape?” Tony blurted out incredulously. Hawkeye choked next to him.

Bruce shrugged.

“Anything can be fixed with duct tape.” The scientist said mildly.

Thor nodded, the ridiculousness of the entire situation flying right over his head.

“The tool seemed quite necessary in this situation, as proven by Banner here,” Thor said seriously. “My brother possesses a silvertongue.”

“Yeah,” Natasha responded blandly. “We noticed.”

Cap sighed, looking fed up by the entirety of this conversation.

“Should we go back to the tower? SHIELD should be arriving in a couple of hours to receive Loki.” the blond frowned. “Though we’ll probably have to stick around and make sure that it happens.”

He really looked like he didn’t want to do it. Tony couldn’t really blame the old man. He just wanted to wash his hands off of this whole affair and get back to Pepper.

(God, Pepper. He had to call her soon or she’ll kill him for scaring her like that. He needed some sort of normalcy in this entire mess.)

“You know,” he started speaking without any real idea what was going to come out of his mouth. “I’m still really up for shawarma? Cause I’m craving for something right now and Pepper’s always telling me that I should eat before I sleep before I forget.”

Surprisingly, all of them agreed. Turns out punching extraterrestrials really worked up an appetite.

They ended up at a small, mostly ruined restaurant after the third try. The owners there just rolled with the fact they had the saviors of the city in their restaurant as if it were any other day to them.

You gotta love New Yorkers.

They ate in silence, Loki tussled up and left outside. By this point, Tony was pretty sure by now that if the bastard wanted to leave, he would’ve by now. But he didn’t, which was pretty worrying but so not Tony’s problem and he was perfectly fine with just, eating his meal in peace.

Of course, because the world loved to fuck over any good thing in Tony’s life, it didn’t last.

A bright light suddenly was bursting right in front of them, blazing hot and nearly blinding all of them in its close proximity. It slowly started to condense in on itself until it took actual shape into – what Tony belatedly realized – human form.

That’s it. He was done. He couldn’t take another hit right now.

Why did the universe hate him?

They all stood up, Cap jolting out of his nap and reaching for his shield while Natasha untangled herself from Hawkeye, both assassins getting ready. Bruce stood up, shoulders and mouth tight with worry. Nobody would want the Hulk to appear right now and escalate something, but he was preparing to defend them all the same. That kind of thing meant something and Tony couldn’t help be a bit proud. As for Thor, his eyes were darting immediately to the door where Loki was tied up outside, looking ready to attack first and ask questions later.

As for Tony, he cursed hard at the fact he had stupidly stripped himself off his armor. He couldn’t help it with the sense of claustrophobia that had his throat tightening at the thought of continuing to wear what he essentially almost died. He should’ve held on a little longer, should’ve been ready for anything even if it seemed like it all ended.

And Rhodey told him he was too paranoid. Ha!

Just when Tony was relatively sure they were all going to die, the glowing finally stopped and Tony’s brain impossibly stopped working.

It was Thor.

It was Thor?

Whoever it was, he looked an awful lot like him. Goldilocks was no more, his curling blond hair cropped short and revealing darker roots than Tony first believed. The red cape was gone and the man was instead wearing a practical brown cloak that was fraying at the edges and a giant traveling pack the man was slung over his shoulder with ease.

However, the two biggest differences sent a jolt of shock – see what he did there? – through his whole body right down to his toes.

One, Tony couldn’t see the ever-present hammer. Unless he was hiding it underneath the cloak or it was hidden somewhere in that bag, he had no idea.

Second, the man was wearing an eyepatch. And unless it was Halloween where Thor decided to cosplay as Nick Fury’s immortal cousin, this Thor most likely lost an eye at one point.

Seeing how the man was the God of Thunder and could match up to the Hulk, this was very concerning.

That is, if this really was Thor.

First thing this Thor said was, “Oh shit.”

The next thing was, “Is that shawarma?”

The ragged appearance of the man did nothing to erase the radiant grin he was now sporting as he casually walked toward the table full of armed Avengers and picked up a bowl of shawarma before taking a giant bite out of it.

Tony wasn’t even kidding. It looked like the man was unhinging his entire jaw as he bit it, completely undeterred by his baffled audience that included his gaping double.

“You have no idea,” The one-eyed Thor managed to say while chewing enthusiastically. “No idea how much I miss Misgardian food.”

And, well, what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

The shock was quickly wearing off of Thor now as he glared threateningly at the bizarre aberration that stood before them. He clenched onto his hammer and took a step forward.

“Loki, stop playing one of your games.” Thor ordered. A shiver ran down Tony’s neck at the God’s tone. Natasha was narrowing her eyes at the lopsided copy as if she was trying to figure something out.

He hoped she did soon. He worked too hard to stay alive today to die like this.

One-eyed Thor somehow managed to look completely unimpressed, raising an eyebrow and staring at Thor in a way that for some reason Tony couldn’t help but think meant, “Oh honey” which would’ve been a lot more hilarious under different circumstances. He had no idea the blond had it in him.

“You know as well as I do I’m not Loki.” One-eyed Thor waved his shawarma in a scolding manner at the other god. “You can sense magical signatures well enough. Calm down.”

“It can be faked.” Thor rumbled, irritation increasing with every gritted word.

“You know him well enough to tell.” The other Thor pointed out. He took another bite out of the wrapped up food.

“You’re from the future.” Natasha abruptly said. She was staring at him as if she didn’t know what to make of him. “Time travel?”

The man swallowed before beaming at her.

“Observant as always Natasha.” He said cheerfully.

Everyone blinked at the use of first name. It was strange to hear such familiar address from the overly-formal prince.

And then what Thor confirmed sunk in.

“Time travel?” Bruce was shaking his head furiously, looking about ready to blow a gasket. Tony couldn’t blame him, he felt like doing the same in the face of something so out there. And they just fought aliens. “That should not be possible.”

The other Thor smirked far too smugly. “Magic.”

“No.” Tony denied. And will continue to deny for the rest of his days, cause fuck that. “No, everyone knows that’s a fucking cheat answer and like hell I’m going to let you get away with that.”

“But it’s the truth?” this Thor widened his eyes, looking so confused and overly innocent that Tony instantly knew was Thor’s version of a shit-eating grin. Jesus, he could give 16-year-old Tony who was the biggest piece of shit there was a run for his money with that look. If Tony wasn’t so outraged by the topic, he’d almost be impressed.

He could definitely see himself get along with this version of Thor.

Cap was staring at one-eyed Thor with disbelieving eyes before finally closing them as if he was only now accepting how crazy his life was.

“Yeah, no dice.” Hawkeye looked far too amused by the situation now that it was clear they weren’t in danger, smirking with shoulders relaxed. “How did you get here?”

While the question was said nonchalantly, the archer was shifting his stance in a way where he was subtly glancing outside the shop to check up on their resident magician. Seeing if he really wasn’t playing a part in this madness.

The one-eyed Thor whether didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“An accident.” He shrugged. “Pissed off someone and ended up here. My ride should come soon and I’ll be out of here in a jiffy, don’t worry. Shouldn’t affect the space-time continuum too much. The guy who sent me here isn’t powerful enough to bend time to his will.”

“You’re using modern lingo.” Tony didn’t bother to try to hide his glee. “You said space-time continuum! Oh my god, you’re more ahead of the curb than Capsicle! Ha!”

Said mentioned man shot an exasperated look at the billionaire. “Stark.”

Before Cap could really get into it, a more minimized bright light suddenly shined right next to the other Thor before dimming down and making it clear who appeared this time.

Whatever lightened atmosphere resulted in clearing up the strange Thor’s presence immediately disappeared at the sight of the next visitor.

“What the fuck.” Hawkeye spat out, hand jerking for the bow. It vanished before it could and appeared in a sneering Loki’s hand, looking exactly the same as his other counterpart.

“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to get shot at. Again.” The criminal whipped his head around and glared at Thor’s doppelganger with extreme annoyance. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” for the first time since he appeared, there was no sign of playfulness now. Long finished with his stolen meal, he set the bowl down in a decisive move before crossing his arms across his broad chest defensively. “It’s not like I was about to let you get hit.”

“I knew what I was doing.” This Loki hissed. For a brief moment that Tony almost missed, his green eyes flickered up and down Thor’s frame as if-

As if he was checking Thor for injuries.

The very implications were confusing, to say the least. He almost thought he imagined it if it weren’t for the subtle straightening of Natasha’s spine and the way her eyes widened just a fraction from surprise. Hawkeye followed his partner’s lead and his rage leveled down a notch as he seemed to catch it as well.

Assassins. Ugh.

“I’m fine.” The one-eyed Thor rolled his eye – as in singular, there had to be a story there – and jerked a thumb in the Avengers’ direction. “You can yell at me later.”

All that rage slowly seemed to disappear underneath a smooth, cool mask at the reminder. It was such a contrast to the spitting pile of uncontained, raging madness that Tony had come to expect from him that it was disconcerting. It was doubly so when it hit that Loki was actually listening to Thor.

From the dumbstruck look on Goldilocks’s face, this was just as weird to him too.

What the hell was going to happen in the future?

“Fine.” Loki sneered. “Now let’s leave-”

Suddenly, the door behind them banged open and just to pile up on this clusterfuck of chaos that had just been about to leave damnit, the Loki of their time stood there, somehow having broken out of his foot restraints with his mouth and hands still taped over.

“Mmmhmm Hmm!” the degraded Loki sounded out, scathingly glaring at them all.

The double Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while the one-eyed Thor starting laughing immediately.

“Oh god, I completely forgot about this!” the man exclaimed, absolutely delighted. “This is amazing!”

“I,” the more composed of the two Lokis sounded completely done. “regret everything that has led us to this point.”

Thor casually waved a hand at the Loki next to him while still staring gleefully at the seething, voice-muffled Loki in front of him.

“This all already happened brother.” Both past Loki and Thor stared in shock at the address, the former with horror and the latter with alighted hope. “Get over yourself.”

Captain America choked.

“Anyways,” the one-eyed man smiled at all of them as if the two hadn’t opened a hundred questions into the open with their existence. “it was nice to see you guys again and you won’t remember any of this, so don’t worry about us changing anything. Live your lives and I hope you get that Civil War business done soon or whatever. Raging fire,” the time traveler made honest-to-god finger guns and pointed both at Bruce with a cheeky grin. “I’ll see you on the ship.”

“Raging what-”

And as flashily as they appeared, they were gone in a flash.

Tony stared at the very spot they were just standing and turned to look at the others to share his confusion when-

The genius frowned.

What the hell were they all doing standing around? Weren’t they just eating a minute ago?

“Hey! How the hell is Reindeer Games here?”

[svteenaus]

'Fuck You' Flowers | Jihoon

AN: This was supposed to be out on his birthday but it took a little longer than expected — hope you enjoy it (^^) Also I don't know anything about what it's like to be a florist so I might have got some things wrong with that sorry (;^^) I'll get some requests done soon! (b^^)b ---   Today was quiet as usual. You worked in a small flower shop that rarely had any customers so you just spent the majority of your shift aimlessly scrolling through your phone or reading a book. It got boring at times, but there was something about being amongst the array of different flowers, each giving off their own feel and vibrant colours, that made the long hours of nothing worthwhile.   "How do I passive aggressively say 'fuck you' with flowers?" You jump at the sound of someone slamming their hand into the counter, your hands automatically snapping your book shut. A man around your age with black hair and a glare cutting right through you stood on the other side of the counter, a £20 note scrunched up in his hand.   "Oh - yeah - sure." You were still taken back by his sudden appearance as you were too engrossed in your book to hear him enter and along with him requesting flowers meaning 'fuck you,' your needed a minute to gather your thoughts. Most people requested cuter things like 'I miss you' or "I love you,' but those started to seem quite simple and generic after you had done the such similar bouquets over and over, so this was a nice change.   "I guess I could do orange lilies and some geraniums. That'd be hatred and stupidity," you muttered to yourself, looking around the room for inspiration."Ooh! Some yellow carnations some foxglove and some meadowsweet - ok, I've got it." You clapped your hands together before hopping out from behind the counter to find the needed flowers. The whole time, the man stood silently, tapping his fingers against his leg impatiently. You could almost see the steam coming from his ears, like a kettle that was just about to start ringing. You wondered what someone had done to get the man so angry.   "What's your name, Sir?" You asked, trying to speak as formally as possible, he was a customer after all, but you also didn't want to tip him over the edge and have him lash out at you. Even though he was quite small, you knew you wouldn't stand much chance against him.   "Jihoon." He replied coldly, but after hearing the harshness in his voice, his face immediately softened. "Sorry, I'm just really mad right now," he apologised, his voice much gentler now, and his hand no longer tapping against his leg.   "It's ok," you reassured him with a smile. "Who are the flowers for? If you don't mind me asking." The words had slipped out of your mouth before you could fully comprehend what you were saying. It was something that you usually asked your customers, but this didn't feel like the same kind of situation. "Uh - you don't have to answer that." You added awkwardly.   "They're for my soon to be ex," he spat, the bitterness returning to his voice but not just as strong. Jihoon wasn't really one to openly talk about his feelings, preferring to write them into a song, but now he had the urge to just spill everything to someone he has never met before.   "Oh, I'm sorry. They must be a bitch."   "Yeah," he replied. "Caught them cheating." You could tell he was restraining himself from telling you anymore.   "You can tell me if you want - you don't have to hold back." ---   Half an hour later you had all the flowers for Jihoon's bouquet ready and were just getting started on arranging the flowers. Jihoon had told you all about what had happened with him and his girlfriend. They were supposed to be celebrating their anniversary today, but he found out she was cheating on him thanks to his friend who was at the same party she was.   "So how are you gonna confront her?" you asked, taking an orange lily and gently rolling the stem between your fingers. "Because it's not likely she'll understand the flowers."   "I don't know," Jihoon said, his face scrunched up in concentration as he rattled his brain for any ideas.   "Oh! I know!" you exclaimed after you had joined him thinking for around thirty seconds. "You've got her a present or something, right?"   "I guess?"   "Did it come in a box? Like, was it fancy?"   "Yeah."   You paused for a moment, debating with yourself on whether you'd voice your idea. "No - never mind. It's mean."   "No, no, mean is good. I couldn't care less about her feelings anymore," Jihoon urged you to share.   "Ok then, if you take the actual present out of the box so she'll think you're giving her some kind of expensive shit, but when she opens it, there's a note that says something like 'you cheating bitch,'" you explained, leaning back on your chair behind the counter.   "Yeah, that is kind of mean.. Considering what present I got her," Jihoon muttered, but he still spoke loud enough for you to hear him.   "What did you get her?" you curiously asked him to see if it would fit into your plan.   "An engagement ring." The gentle smile on your face fell slightly. He must've loved her a lot if he was planing to marry her. Even after he had ranted to you, you still couldn't imagine what he was feeling right now. After all, you had just met.   "But I'm still going to do it," he grinned. "It'll have more of an affect, people will be watching."   "Ok." You nodded, grinning back at him. "Good luck, Jihoon." ---   Jihoon came back to the shop a few hours later to collect his finished bouquet, but this time instead of the oversized cream sweater that he was wearing earlier, Jihoon was dressed in a smart black suit, his tie perfectly straight, not one was thing out of place. You had noticed that he was attractive the first time you saw him, but after seeing him all done up for his date you felt your heart begin to beat faster and faster, heat rushing to your face.   "It's beautiful," he had told you when you handed him your finished product. "You really didn't have to put in that much effort."   "Thanks," you laughed. "I don't think she'd care that much either way - unless I made them look really shitty. I could if you want though?"   "Nah, it's ok." He turned the bouquet over in his hands, admiring the vibrant flowers from many different angles. "Anyway, how much?"   "What?"   "How much do I owe you? - for the flowers."   "You don't owe me anything!" You insisted, stopping Jihoon from taking his wallet out of his pocket.   "I can't just take them for free—"   "Jihoon, it's fine," you reassured him, gently placing your hand on his arm. "You've been through a lot today, it's the least I can do."   "Thanks," he smiled. He paused for a short moment before nodding and continuing, "I better go now. I've left her waiting long enough." And with that he left, stopping only for a moment to wave goodbye to you. ---   You hadn't expected to see Jihoon again after that - not today at least - and he probably hasn't been expecting to see you either, but once his date with his now ex-girlfriend had finished, rather successfully if you asked him, but definitely not for the girl, who had still been in shock when he left, he found himself heading in the opposite direction of his apartment and straight towards the small shop you worked in.   "Jihoon, how did it go?" you inquired once you saw him enter. You put down the cloth you were using and made your way towards him.   "It went well," he nodded. "Thanks - for all of your help."   "No problem," you smiled.   "It wasn't the best birthday I've had, but you certainly brightened it up" sighed Jihoon, returning your smile.   'Wait. It's his birthday?' you thought to yourself, instinctively covering your mouth.   "It's your birthday? You should've said earlier!" you exclaimed.   "Well, it wasn't really that important to the conversation," he muttered, but you weren't listening.   "One minute!" You quickly untied the small knot on your apron before throwing it across the room, it landing on the counter.   "What? Where are you going?" Jihoon questioned as you made your way to the door.   "Don't worry Jihoon," you said, turning to face him, using the handle of the door to keep you upright. "I'll be back in one minute, ok?" ---     A few minutes later you returned to the small flower shop. Jihoon had moved away from the middle of the room and was now sitting patiently waiting for you on a stool placed against the wall where the first row of flowers come to an end.   "Oh, you're back," he greeted, bouncing up from the stool. "What there you doing?"   "I was doing... This!" You pulled a white box out of the plastic bag you were carrying. You took the box over to the counter and carefully placed it down.   "And that is?"   "Your birthday cake!" you exclaimed, happily pulling the lid of the box off. Inside was a small, round chocolate cake. In the corner of the box there was a few candles. You took the candles out of the box and put them on top of the cake. "I'm sure I had a lighter around here somewhere," you mumbled to yourself as you rummaged around in the drawers behind the counter.   "You really didn't have to do this," said Jihoon. You popped your head over the counter for a second and saw that he was smiling widely. You returned the smile before continuing your search.   "You didn't deserve a birthday like this," you told him, popping back up a few seconds later, proudly holding your newly found lighter. "I just want you to be able to look back on your birthday and smile a bit instead of it being a sad thing," you added as you lit the candles. It took you a few tries, but they were soon flickering to life, helping light up the shop as although the lights were on, the sun, which the shop relied on for the majority of its lighting, was quickly setting outside.   "Just you being there is enough for me to look back and smile," Jihoon said, now avoiding your gaze. He took a few steps towards you and the cake before quickly blowing the candles out. "Thank you, (y/n)."

[pamelahetrick]

Questions to ask before hiring a designer

You need some good design and you need it yesterday. You’re interviewing prospective freelance designers for the job, but how can you accurately gauge their skill set, style and experience without knowing much about graphic design yourself? Ironically, the less you know, the more you need to hire someone who knows a lot. So what are the best questions to ask a designer before committing to working with them?

In this article we’ll walk you through the right questions to ask designers during the interview process, and more importantly, will give you some solid reasoning for each one. It’s essential to know why you’re asking what you’re asking. Whether you interview prospective designers over the phone, via email or in person, the questions you want to ask them remain the same.

There are many questions to ask, but we narrowed down the most essential topics from the general to the specific. First, let’s go over some basics.

What to ask before hiring a designer: standard questions —

If this is your first time interviewing a freelancer or if you want some more detailed advice, lets run over the standard questions to ask before hiring a designer. Think of these as “round 1” questions, you’ll find a set of “round 2” questions for your finalists below.

First, you want to make sure their availability and location meet your requirements. If you found them by browsing portfolios or using a designer search tool, they may not be open for work right away—so inquiring into their availability for new projects is essential—and a nice ice-breaker, too.

Find a Designer search tool

A lot of freelance designers work remotely, but you may not know it unless you ask. If working with someone in-person or over the phone is important to you, mention that early on so you don’t waste their time—or yours.

Likewise, you want to make sure you can fit them into your budget. Designer rates vary by thousands, so discuss compensation as soon as possible to avoid dead ends.

Also consider whether they have experience in the kind of design work you need. The world’s greatest website designer may know zero to zilch about designing logos, so make sure your candidates are actually qualified to do what you’re asking.

If you’d like to know more, read this comprehensive beginner’s guide to finding and hiring a graphic designer.

When you’re ready, move on to these more advanced questions for designers who have made the first cut.

What to ask before hiring a designer: 9 deep-digging questions

—

Below you’ll find not only questions to ask prospective designers, but also the reasoning behind them. This includes some context that non-designers may not be familiar with, as well as what to look for in the responses you receive.

This inquiry begins with broader, big-picture questions and then moves into more detailed and nuanced questions. Feel free to follow the order of our questions or rearrange them in a way more comfortable to you.

1. Can you walk me through your portfolio?

Anyone with experience in hiring a designer will tell you the designer’s portfolio is your most valuable resource, aside from the designer themselves. If the designer has advanced this far in your hiring process, chances are strong that you’re already familiar with their portfolio. However, seeing it through their eyes, while they provide background, lets you understand it on a whole new level.

Designer profile for Angela Cuellar

First of all, ask which of their works they’re most proud of and why. This gives you insight into their priorities, whether they value commercial success, client satisfaction or creative artistry. This helps you find a freelancer more in line with the overall goals of the company. You should also see if their favorite work corresponds with your own to gauge how well your stylistic goals match.

On top of that, ask them to clarify their duties on each project. Design is highly collaborative, so the aspect you like most—maybe the color scheme or a mascot design—could have actually been handled by someone else. Learning about a designer’s shared duties could possibly even open some doors for you that you hadn’t considered before: if your interviewee frequently does typography, maybe you could add a customized font for your brand to the project.

2. How do you approach a new project?

Let’s state this clearly: good design is about solving problems. The problem could be something a bit broad like needing a friendlier image or something more black-and-white like meeting a sales quota. Either way, hiring the right graphic designer can help you solve these problems.

Every new designer should understand the client’s needs—the problem that needs solving—before putting a pen to paper. Look for designers who answer this question by referring to finding solutions: researching user data, speaking with the team, looking through archives of older design work, etc. Each designer has their own process for solving problems, but what you’re really looking for is whether or not they have a solid process in place.

3. What is your usual timeframe for a project like this?

Art design by Marrieta

This question is a bit obvious, but worth mentioning. After explaining the details of your project and your aspirations for it, ask for an estimate of how long it will take. This is just a precaution to make sure this designer can produce work that fits into your greater timeframe.

Just as important as this question is its follow up: what do you do when a project takes longer than expected? Things don’t always go as planned, so it’s good to clarify what you can expect if a deadline is missed. The designer may charge for extra time or completely revise their original pricing. It’s best to iron out any issues before they arise.

4. Can you explain your design process?

A designer’s process is a lot like their own personal Coca-Cola formula. They may be reluctant to share it, but when they do you’ll understand a little more about what makes them special and how they stack up against other designers.

While you can’t accurately judge a designer by the source of their creativity, you can and should evaluate how they incorporate business goals and work with the client. There are no right or wrong answers, but use their responses to help you understand if they’ll fit your own company’s culture (or your unique design needs). If you run a tight ship and they’re footloose and fancy-free, that may cause friction down the line.

For questions like these, it’s good to keep it vague and have the designer fill in the blanks. What a designer chooses to share can be equally as telling as what they actually say. As a general interview tip, resist the temptation to elaborate on the question unless the interviewee specifically requests it. A few seconds of awkward silence can lead to new revelations the designer would not have shared otherwise.

5. What qualities do you look for in a client?

Another direct way to evaluate compatibility is to see it from their perspective. Asking them what qualities they like—and dislike—in employers can also bring out glaring incongruencies before they become problems.

Again, there are no wrong answers and you’re judging how well they’ll work with you instead of what kind of designer they are. In particular, ask if they have any deal-breakers or objections, whether with the working process, your management style or even logistical concerns, such as the method payments are received.

6. How do you prefer to collaborate with other team-members?

Just as you want to foresee how well the designer will get along with you, you want to judge how well they’ll work with the other team-members (if applicable, of course—some design projects are solitary gigs).

via Pexel

For this question you may want to have your developers, copywriters or project managers present to weigh in, or at least share with them the designer’s answers afterwards. Your other team members also have their own distinct processes for getting their jobs done, and you want your team to work together as efficiently as possible.

This question merits diving deeper with follow-ups. For one thing, you should ask for real-life examples about hand offs and/or direct collaboration. This gives you more concrete answers about how they work with others to get around vague or generic responses.

It’s also worth asking how they resolve disputes and differences in taste/opinion. You know the members of your team, so you can draw your own conclusions about how they’ll avoid or overcome friction.

7. How do you handle conflict with a client?

Last in the series of questions about conflict resolution, you’ll want to see how well they accept criticism or disagreement from the client (that’s you!).

This question may seem straightforward—and the specifics of their answer should influence your decision—but there’s more nuance to it. This question determines whether or not the designer will defend their decisions when under fire.

You’re essentially looking for a designer that will stand by their choices and explain their work to non-designers. However, you’re also looking for someone respectful and professional who aims to satisfy the client. It’s a delicate middle ground between the two and you need to pick apart the designer’s answer to see precisely where they fall on the spectrum.

8. What brands or design projects do you admire most?

Book cover design by B&J

This can be an illuminating question, but make sure you word it so it’s relevant for your project. If you’re hiring a freelancer to design a book cover, ask them which book covers they admire most.

This question should give you insight into the designer’s character: their stylistic preferences, artistic priorities and comprehension of their own trade. It’s a good way to get clearcut answers to see if your tastes align.

For this question, you also want to pay attention to how they describe their favorites. Do they use technical jargon and go into the particular aspects of the design, or do they just say it “looks good” and leave it at that? You don’t have to understand the design-talk yourself—it only matters if they understand it.

9. What do you think makes a good designer?

On the heels of the last question, you want to dive deeper into their character by asking a more open-ended question. Like some others on this list, you want to keep it vague and let the interviewee choose how to answer it.

Directly, this question reveals the designer’s priorities and motivations. Moreover, it can reveal something about their strengths and weaknesses—sometimes people choose their own traits that they’re most proud of, other times people choose the traits they lack but are working towards.

Indirectly, this question exhibits how well they understand the graphic design profession as a whole. More experienced and skilled designers will have more to say on this topic than rookies or weekenders. As before, pay attention to how well they use design terms, regardless of whether you personally can follow along.

Bonus question: what else do you think I should know about you as a designer or about the way you work?

Illustration by felipe_charria

It’s always good to end the interview by giving the designer a chance to volunteer anything. This could be something they’ve been trying to bring up the whole interview but never found the chance, or it could be something they thought of after-the-fact and wanted to add to the dialogue.

Like other open-ended questions, you’ll learn more if you hand over control to the designer. Pay attention to what topics they choose to talk about as much as what they actually say.

If the designer has nothing else to add, that’s okay, too. It’s best to give them the opportunity either way. If you do end up hiring them, it starts your collaboration off on the right foot.

Find and hire a graphic designer today —

Now that you know what to ask before hiring a designer, are you ready to actually go out and hire one? Browsing and discovering designers can be a tedious and exhaustive process if you don’t know where to look, but there are tools that make it easy for you, like the Find a Designer search tool. You can narrow down a pool of 1.4 million designers—more designers than the population of Dallas—with filters on the type of project, the industry you work in, the designer’s skill level and other relevant criteria like languages.

If you’re not quite sure what kind of design you want, you can also commission a design contest and have designers compete over your project. In a design contest, you describe your project in a brief and then designers from all over the world create original samples based on what you wrote. You can see before you buy and it lets you choose based on the designs more than the designer. Start your design contest right here.

Want to find the perfect designer for your next project?

Browse our community of graphic designers!

Let's go

The post Questions to ask before hiring a designer appeared first on 99designs.

via 99designs https://99designs.co.uk/blog/business-en-gb/questions-to-ask-designers/

[myongfisher]

Questions to ask before hiring a designer

You need some good design and you need it yesterday. You’re interviewing prospective freelance designers for the job, but how can you accurately gauge their skill set, style and experience without knowing much about graphic design yourself? Ironically, the less you know, the more you need to hire someone who knows a lot. So what are the best questions to ask a designer before committing to working with them?

In this article we’ll walk you through the right questions to ask designers during the interview process, and more importantly, will give you some solid reasoning for each one. It’s essential to know why you’re asking what you’re asking. Whether you interview prospective designers over the phone, via email or in person, the questions you want to ask them remain the same.

There are many questions to ask, but we narrowed down the most essential topics from the general to the specific. First, let’s go over some basics.

What to ask before hiring a designer: standard questions —

If this is your first time interviewing a freelancer or if you want some more detailed advice, lets run over the standard questions to ask before hiring a designer. Think of these as “round 1” questions, you’ll find a set of “round 2” questions for your finalists below.

First, you want to make sure their availability and location meet your requirements. If you found them by browsing portfolios or using a designer search tool, they may not be open for work right away—so inquiring into their availability for new projects is essential—and a nice ice-breaker, too.

Find a Designer search tool

A lot of freelance designers work remotely, but you may not know it unless you ask. If working with someone in-person or over the phone is important to you, mention that early on so you don’t waste their time—or yours.

Likewise, you want to make sure you can fit them into your budget. Designer rates vary by thousands, so discuss compensation as soon as possible to avoid dead ends.

Also consider whether they have experience in the kind of design work you need. The world’s greatest website designer may know zero to zilch about designing logos, so make sure your candidates are actually qualified to do what you’re asking.

If you’d like to know more, read this comprehensive beginner’s guide to finding and hiring a graphic designer.

When you’re ready, move on to these more advanced questions for designers who have made the first cut.

What to ask before hiring a designer: 9 deep-digging questions

—

Below you’ll find not only questions to ask prospective designers, but also the reasoning behind them. This includes some context that non-designers may not be familiar with, as well as what to look for in the responses you receive.

This inquiry begins with broader, big-picture questions and then moves into more detailed and nuanced questions. Feel free to follow the order of our questions or rearrange them in a way more comfortable to you.

1. Can you walk me through your portfolio?

Anyone with experience in hiring a designer will tell you the designer’s portfolio is your most valuable resource, aside from the designer themselves. If the designer has advanced this far in your hiring process, chances are strong that you’re already familiar with their portfolio. However, seeing it through their eyes, while they provide background, lets you understand it on a whole new level.

Designer profile for Angela Cuellar

First of all, ask which of their works they’re most proud of and why. This gives you insight into their priorities, whether they value commercial success, client satisfaction or creative artistry. This helps you find a freelancer more in line with the overall goals of the company. You should also see if their favorite work corresponds with your own to gauge how well your stylistic goals match.

On top of that, ask them to clarify their duties on each project. Design is highly collaborative, so the aspect you like most—maybe the color scheme or a mascot design—could have actually been handled by someone else. Learning about a designer’s shared duties could possibly even open some doors for you that you hadn’t considered before: if your interviewee frequently does typography, maybe you could add a customized font for your brand to the project.

2. How do you approach a new project?

Let’s state this clearly: good design is about solving problems. The problem could be something a bit broad like needing a friendlier image or something more black-and-white like meeting a sales quota. Either way, hiring the right graphic designer can help you solve these problems.

Every new designer should understand the client’s needs—the problem that needs solving—before putting a pen to paper. Look for designers who answer this question by referring to finding solutions: researching user data, speaking with the team, looking through archives of older design work, etc. Each designer has their own process for solving problems, but what you’re really looking for is whether or not they have a solid process in place.

3. What is your usual timeframe for a project like this?

Art design by Marrieta

This question is a bit obvious, but worth mentioning. After explaining the details of your project and your aspirations for it, ask for an estimate of how long it will take. This is just a precaution to make sure this designer can produce work that fits into your greater timeframe.

Just as important as this question is its follow up: what do you do when a project takes longer than expected? Things don’t always go as planned, so it’s good to clarify what you can expect if a deadline is missed. The designer may charge for extra time or completely revise their original pricing. It’s best to iron out any issues before they arise.

4. Can you explain your design process?

A designer’s process is a lot like their own personal Coca-Cola formula. They may be reluctant to share it, but when they do you’ll understand a little more about what makes them special and how they stack up against other designers.

While you can’t accurately judge a designer by the source of their creativity, you can and should evaluate how they incorporate business goals and work with the client. There are no right or wrong answers, but use their responses to help you understand if they’ll fit your own company’s culture (or your unique design needs). If you run a tight ship and they’re footloose and fancy-free, that may cause friction down the line.

For questions like these, it’s good to keep it vague and have the designer fill in the blanks. What a designer chooses to share can be equally as telling as what they actually say. As a general interview tip, resist the temptation to elaborate on the question unless the interviewee specifically requests it. A few seconds of awkward silence can lead to new revelations the designer would not have shared otherwise.

5. What qualities do you look for in a client?

Another direct way to evaluate compatibility is to see it from their perspective. Asking them what qualities they like—and dislike—in employers can also bring out glaring incongruencies before they become problems.

Again, there are no wrong answers and you’re judging how well they’ll work with you instead of what kind of designer they are. In particular, ask if they have any deal-breakers or objections, whether with the working process, your management style or even logistical concerns, such as the method payments are received.

6. How do you prefer to collaborate with other team-members?

Just as you want to foresee how well the designer will get along with you, you want to judge how well they’ll work with the other team-members (if applicable, of course—some design projects are solitary gigs).

via Pexel

For this question you may want to have your developers, copywriters or project managers present to weigh in, or at least share with them the designer’s answers afterwards. Your other team members also have their own distinct processes for getting their jobs done, and you want your team to work together as efficiently as possible.

This question merits diving deeper with follow-ups. For one thing, you should ask for real-life examples about hand offs and/or direct collaboration. This gives you more concrete answers about how they work with others to get around vague or generic responses.

It’s also worth asking how they resolve disputes and differences in taste/opinion. You know the members of your team, so you can draw your own conclusions about how they’ll avoid or overcome friction.

7. How do you handle conflict with a client?

Last in the series of questions about conflict resolution, you’ll want to see how well they accept criticism or disagreement from the client (that’s you!).

This question may seem straightforward—and the specifics of their answer should influence your decision—but there’s more nuance to it. This question determines whether or not the designer will defend their decisions when under fire.

You’re essentially looking for a designer that will stand by their choices and explain their work to non-designers. However, you’re also looking for someone respectful and professional who aims to satisfy the client. It’s a delicate middle ground between the two and you need to pick apart the designer’s answer to see precisely where they fall on the spectrum.

8. What brands or design projects do you admire most?

Book cover design by B&J

This can be an illuminating question, but make sure you word it so it’s relevant for your project. If you’re hiring a freelancer to design a book cover, ask them which book covers they admire most.

This question should give you insight into the designer’s character: their stylistic preferences, artistic priorities and comprehension of their own trade. It’s a good way to get clearcut answers to see if your tastes align.

For this question, you also want to pay attention to how they describe their favorites. Do they use technical jargon and go into the particular aspects of the design, or do they just say it “looks good” and leave it at that? You don’t have to understand the design-talk yourself—it only matters if they understand it.

9. What do you think makes a good designer?

On the heels of the last question, you want to dive deeper into their character by asking a more open-ended question. Like some others on this list, you want to keep it vague and let the interviewee choose how to answer it.

Directly, this question reveals the designer’s priorities and motivations. Moreover, it can reveal something about their strengths and weaknesses—sometimes people choose their own traits that they’re most proud of, other times people choose the traits they lack but are working towards.

Indirectly, this question exhibits how well they understand the graphic design profession as a whole. More experienced and skilled designers will have more to say on this topic than rookies or weekenders. As before, pay attention to how well they use design terms, regardless of whether you personally can follow along.

Bonus question: what else do you think I should know about you as a designer or about the way you work?

Illustration by felipe_charria

It’s always good to end the interview by giving the designer a chance to volunteer anything. This could be something they’ve been trying to bring up the whole interview but never found the chance, or it could be something they thought of after-the-fact and wanted to add to the dialogue.

Like other open-ended questions, you’ll learn more if you hand over control to the designer. Pay attention to what topics they choose to talk about as much as what they actually say.

If the designer has nothing else to add, that’s okay, too. It’s best to give them the opportunity either way. If you do end up hiring them, it starts your collaboration off on the right foot.

Find and hire a graphic designer today —

Now that you know what to ask before hiring a designer, are you ready to actually go out and hire one? Browsing and discovering designers can be a tedious and exhaustive process if you don’t know where to look, but there are tools that make it easy for you, like the Find a Designer search tool. You can narrow down a pool of 1.4 million designers—more designers than the population of Dallas—with filters on the type of project, the industry you work in, the designer’s skill level and other relevant criteria like languages.

If you’re not quite sure what kind of design you want, you can also commission a design contest and have designers compete over your project. In a design contest, you describe your project in a brief and then designers from all over the world create original samples based on what you wrote. You can see before you buy and it lets you choose based on the designs more than the designer. Start your design contest right here.

Want to find the perfect designer for your next project?

Browse our community of graphic designers!

Let’s go

The post Questions to ask before hiring a designer appeared first on 99designs.

Questions to ask before hiring a designer published first on https://www.lilpackaging.com/

[susaanrogers]

Questions to ask before hiring a designer

You need some good design and you need it yesterday. You’re interviewing prospective freelance designers for the job, but how can you accurately gauge their skill set, style and experience without knowing much about graphic design yourself? Ironically, the less you know, the more you need to hire someone who knows a lot. So what are the best questions to ask a designer before committing to working with them?

In this article we’ll walk you through the right questions to ask designers during the interview process, and more importantly, will give you some solid reasoning for each one. It’s essential to know why you’re asking what you’re asking. Whether you interview prospective designers over the phone, via email or in person, the questions you want to ask them remain the same.

There are many questions to ask, but we narrowed down the most essential topics from the general to the specific. First, let’s go over some basics.

What to ask before hiring a designer: standard questions —

If this is your first time interviewing a freelancer or if you want some more detailed advice, lets run over the standard questions to ask before hiring a designer. Think of these as “round 1” questions, you’ll find a set of “round 2” questions for your finalists below.

First, you want to make sure their availability and location meet your requirements. If you found them by browsing portfolios or using a designer search tool, they may not be open for work right away—so inquiring into their availability for new projects is essential—and a nice ice-breaker, too.

Find a Designer search tool

A lot of freelance designers work remotely, but you may not know it unless you ask. If working with someone in-person or over the phone is important to you, mention that early on so you don’t waste their time—or yours.

Likewise, you want to make sure you can fit them into your budget. Designer rates vary by thousands, so discuss compensation as soon as possible to avoid dead ends.

Also consider whether they have experience in the kind of design work you need. The world’s greatest website designer may know zero to zilch about designing logos, so make sure your candidates are actually qualified to do what you’re asking.

If you’d like to know more, read this comprehensive beginner’s guide to finding and hiring a graphic designer.

When you’re ready, move on to these more advanced questions for designers who have made the first cut.

What to ask before hiring a designer: 9 deep-digging questions

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Below you’ll find not only questions to ask prospective designers, but also the reasoning behind them. This includes some context that non-designers may not be familiar with, as well as what to look for in the responses you receive.

This inquiry begins with broader, big-picture questions and then moves into more detailed and nuanced questions. Feel free to follow the order of our questions or rearrange them in a way more comfortable to you.

1. Can you walk me through your portfolio?

Anyone with experience in hiring a designer will tell you the designer’s portfolio is your most valuable resource, aside from the designer themselves. If the designer has advanced this far in your hiring process, chances are strong that you’re already familiar with their portfolio. However, seeing it through their eyes, while they provide background, lets you understand it on a whole new level.

Designer profile for Angela Cuellar

First of all, ask which of their works they’re most proud of and why. This gives you insight into their priorities, whether they value commercial success, client satisfaction or creative artistry. This helps you find a freelancer more in line with the overall goals of the company. You should also see if their favorite work corresponds with your own to gauge how well your stylistic goals match.

On top of that, ask them to clarify their duties on each project. Design is highly collaborative, so the aspect you like most—maybe the color scheme or a mascot design—could have actually been handled by someone else. Learning about a designer’s shared duties could possibly even open some doors for you that you hadn’t considered before: if your interviewee frequently does typography, maybe you could add a customized font for your brand to the project.

2. How do you approach a new project?

Let’s state this clearly: good design is about solving problems. The problem could be something a bit broad like needing a friendlier image or something more black-and-white like meeting a sales quota. Either way, hiring the right graphic designer can help you solve these problems.

Every new designer should understand the client’s needs—the problem that needs solving—before putting a pen to paper. Look for designers who answer this question by referring to finding solutions: researching user data, speaking with the team, looking through archives of older design work, etc. Each designer has their own process for solving problems, but what you’re really looking for is whether or not they have a solid process in place.

3. What is your usual timeframe for a project like this?

Art design by Marrieta

This question is a bit obvious, but worth mentioning. After explaining the details of your project and your aspirations for it, ask for an estimate of how long it will take. This is just a precaution to make sure this designer can produce work that fits into your greater timeframe.

Just as important as this question is its follow up: what do you do when a project takes longer than expected? Things don’t always go as planned, so it’s good to clarify what you can expect if a deadline is missed. The designer may charge for extra time or completely revise their original pricing. It’s best to iron out any issues before they arise.

4. Can you explain your design process?

A designer’s process is a lot like their own personal Coca-Cola formula. They may be reluctant to share it, but when they do you’ll understand a little more about what makes them special and how they stack up against other designers.

While you can’t accurately judge a designer by the source of their creativity, you can and should evaluate how they incorporate business goals and work with the client. There are no right or wrong answers, but use their responses to help you understand if they’ll fit your own company’s culture (or your unique design needs). If you run a tight ship and they’re footloose and fancy-free, that may cause friction down the line.

For questions like these, it’s good to keep it vague and have the designer fill in the blanks. What a designer chooses to share can be equally as telling as what they actually say. As a general interview tip, resist the temptation to elaborate on the question unless the interviewee specifically requests it. A few seconds of awkward silence can lead to new revelations the designer would not have shared otherwise.

5. What qualities do you look for in a client?

Another direct way to evaluate compatibility is to see it from their perspective. Asking them what qualities they like—and dislike—in employers can also bring out glaring incongruencies before they become problems.

Again, there are no wrong answers and you’re judging how well they’ll work with you instead of what kind of designer they are. In particular, ask if they have any deal-breakers or objections, whether with the working process, your management style or even logistical concerns, such as the method payments are received.

6. How do you prefer to collaborate with other team-members?

Just as you want to foresee how well the designer will get along with you, you want to judge how well they’ll work with the other team-members (if applicable, of course—some design projects are solitary gigs).

via Pexel

For this question you may want to have your developers, copywriters or project managers present to weigh in, or at least share with them the designer’s answers afterwards. Your other team members also have their own distinct processes for getting their jobs done, and you want your team to work together as efficiently as possible.

This question merits diving deeper with follow-ups. For one thing, you should ask for real-life examples about hand offs and/or direct collaboration. This gives you more concrete answers about how they work with others to get around vague or generic responses.

It’s also worth asking how they resolve disputes and differences in taste/opinion. You know the members of your team, so you can draw your own conclusions about how they’ll avoid or overcome friction.

7. How do you handle conflict with a client?

Last in the series of questions about conflict resolution, you’ll want to see how well they accept criticism or disagreement from the client (that’s you!).

This question may seem straightforward—and the specifics of their answer should influence your decision—but there’s more nuance to it. This question determines whether or not the designer will defend their decisions when under fire.

You’re essentially looking for a designer that will stand by their choices and explain their work to non-designers. However, you’re also looking for someone respectful and professional who aims to satisfy the client. It’s a delicate middle ground between the two and you need to pick apart the designer’s answer to see precisely where they fall on the spectrum.

8. What brands or design projects do you admire most?

Book cover design by B&J

This can be an illuminating question, but make sure you word it so it’s relevant for your project. If you’re hiring a freelancer to design a book cover, ask them which book covers they admire most.

This question should give you insight into the designer’s character: their stylistic preferences, artistic priorities and comprehension of their own trade. It’s a good way to get clearcut answers to see if your tastes align.

For this question, you also want to pay attention to how they describe their favorites. Do they use technical jargon and go into the particular aspects of the design, or do they just say it “looks good” and leave it at that? You don’t have to understand the design-talk yourself—it only matters if they understand it.

9. What do you think makes a good designer?

On the heels of the last question, you want to dive deeper into their character by asking a more open-ended question. Like some others on this list, you want to keep it vague and let the interviewee choose how to answer it.

Directly, this question reveals the designer’s priorities and motivations. Moreover, it can reveal something about their strengths and weaknesses—sometimes people choose their own traits that they’re most proud of, other times people choose the traits they lack but are working towards.

Indirectly, this question exhibits how well they understand the graphic design profession as a whole. More experienced and skilled designers will have more to say on this topic than rookies or weekenders. As before, pay attention to how well they use design terms, regardless of whether you personally can follow along.

Bonus question: what else do you think I should know about you as a designer or about the way you work?

Illustration by felipe_charria

It’s always good to end the interview by giving the designer a chance to volunteer anything. This could be something they’ve been trying to bring up the whole interview but never found the chance, or it could be something they thought of after-the-fact and wanted to add to the dialogue.

Like other open-ended questions, you’ll learn more if you hand over control to the designer. Pay attention to what topics they choose to talk about as much as what they actually say.

If the designer has nothing else to add, that’s okay, too. It’s best to give them the opportunity either way. If you do end up hiring them, it starts your collaboration off on the right foot.

Find and hire a graphic designer today —

Now that you know what to ask before hiring a designer, are you ready to actually go out and hire one? Browsing and discovering designers can be a tedious and exhaustive process if you don’t know where to look, but there are tools that make it easy for you, like the Find a Designer search tool. You can narrow down a pool of 1.4 million designers—more designers than the population of Dallas—with filters on the type of project, the industry you work in, the designer’s skill level and other relevant criteria like languages.

If you’re not quite sure what kind of design you want, you can also commission a design contest and have designers compete over your project. In a design contest, you describe your project in a brief and then designers from all over the world create original samples based on what you wrote. You can see before you buy and it lets you choose based on the designs more than the designer. Start your design contest right here.

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The post Questions to ask before hiring a designer appeared first on 99designs.

[domina-alba]

Seditionis Adamas

XIII Yellow Pearl had not been present for the initial negotiations for Earth. Her diamond was not known for being... diplomatic. So Yellow Pearl had waited on board the flagship, along with her diamond and Blue Pearl.

White Diamond had stumbled back on board when negotiations had broken down, a shell shocked look on her face, Blue Diamonds warped gem in one hand, Pink Pearl’s gem in the other. From the look on her Diamond’s face the moment White Diamond had suggested reopening those negotiations, Yellow Pearl didn’t expect this time around to be any more successful.

This White Diamond’s words had certainly made an impact however. White Pearl blinked in surprise and turned immediately to look at the permafusion.

“Garnet do you really think...” White asked

“Domina you can’t be serious.” Yellow diamond said

“Yo someone one wanna fill in the people who aren’t like a million years old about what the heck you guys are talking about?” the off color amethyst asked from her place hanging upside down on the seat.

“the stuff my mom talked to your mom about right?” Steven asked, he had hopped up next to Amethysts swinging legs. Quartzes always did have a tendency to stick together.

“Yes.” White diamond said.

“White, I refuse to negotiate with these sorry excuses for gems.” Yellow Diamond said

“Sitting right here.” The Amethyst interjected

“Well then Yellow, you can stay out of it.” White Diamond said evenly. She had retrieved her cracked visor and with flicking through the screens.

“What do you think Blue?” White asked. “You and your rebellion certainly have more at stake than we do.”

“It’s not my rebellion per say.” Blue said with a slight frown. Yellow snorted and rolled her eyes.

“You’re the one that’s been leading it.” Pink pointed out. “You and Jet.”

“Jet was ten times more involved than I ever was.” Blue said.

“What happened to her?” White asked hesitantly.

“I wish I knew.” Blue said, then she raised her voice to speak to the rest of the group “I can speak for the new rebellion.”

****

Domina felt herself relax. This could work this could actually work.

“Excellent.” She said. She pulled up the section of notes she had taken on her mothers video that referred to the negotiations. Those were the only records of the even in the entirety of the empires database. “So what I have from the initial talks is that-”

“Pearl are you planning on doing your job?” Yellow Diamond cut her off. Yellow Pearl jolted back to attention, practically turning orange.

“Forgive me my Diamond I-”

“Yellow she’s fine-” Domina said, it was probably not a great idea to start ordering gems around when they were trying to come to an agreement. It didn’t take a diplomat to understand that.

“Don’t tell me how to treat my gems White.”

“Do you seriously not have enough tact to read the fracking room.”

“Some of us actually know how to act like our gem type”

“I’m the only one of my ‘gem type’ unless you expect me to act like you or blue.”

“I expect you to act like a diamond your mother would have never-”

“My mother is the entire reason we’re stuck in this situation!”  Domina shouted, a gale burst through the house, knocking over anything that wasn’t nailed down, Rose Quartzes portrait over the door flapped against the wall before once again going still. Domina’s face went hot as she surveyed the mess she had caused. “Sorry.” She said sheepishly to the wide eyed group that had been watching their argument.

“Hey... at least the TV didn’t get broken, that’s usually what happens when gem stuff happens in the house.” Steven said with a nervous grin. The Renegade pearl sighed and closed the cabinets that had flew open behind her.  Garnet removed a book from where it had landed on her afro.

“Steven can take notes, he needs to practice his gem anyway.” Garnet said. Stevens face lit up.

“Right!” he said leaping up to his bedroom. He returned a moment later with a sheaf of paper and an object that was either a pencil or a pen.

“Continue Domina.” Garnet said. Domina took a breath and regained control of her temper, out of the corner of her eye she could see her Pearl laying a comforting hand on Yellow Pearl who was looking highly uncomfortable with this whole situation.

“Notes from the initial talks.” Domina said listing them off on her fingers. “Relocating existing Homeworld loyalists, Seceding control of the planet and reversing damages done by the kindergartens.”

“There will be additions.” Blue pearl said, Domina cut off Yellow’s scoff with a look and gave Blue Pearl a nod.

“I assumed as much, Steven ready to write them down?”

“Yep!” Steven said having just stopped writing. Attention turned to Blue Pearl. The gem sighed and gently moved her hair out of her face, revealing a glimpse of dark blue eyes, before her hair flopped back to cover them.

“I would request that control of the base in the Omega Quadrant be officially turned over to the rebellion.”

“Officially?” Domina asked confused “How long has it been held unofficially?” Blue pearl glanced at Pink who turned slightly red.

“A little over four thousand years.” she said. Domina blinked.

“Well then, what else?”    

“Safe passage for those wishing to flee to either the Earth or the station itself.” Blue said. The Renegade Pearl nodded.

“Alright anything else?”

“What about the zoo?” Steven piped up. Domina froze. Right. The Zoo.

“It’s definitely worth talking about,” She said even though it was the last thing she ever wanted talk about..

“What about the Cluster?” Yellow Diamond said finally chiming in.

“The Cluster’s ok, we bubbled it.” Steven piped up.

“You what?!”

“It’s not important right now, Yellow.” Domina said, that conversation could take an hour at the very least. “Anything else?” She asked.

“The corrupted gems.” Garnet said.

“Right!” Steven said. “I’ve only been able to get so far healing them and some of them were Homeworld soldiers.”

“We’re not taking corrupted gems.” Yellow Diamond said.

“They’re ours.” Domina replied “and the state they’re in is the Authority’s fault.”

“They were given orders.”

“And not enough time for a full retreat, there was no confirmation that everyone was off.” Domina said firmly. Yellow scoffed and folded her arms. Domina turned to the rest of the group with a sigh. “Alright. We will take back Homeworld loyalists, and help as much as possible to cure the corruption-”

“It can’t be cured, it’s not supposed to be able to be cured.” Yellow Diamond cut in.

“Well has anyone tried?” Steven asked.

“No that-” Yellow Diamond rubbed her temple. “That’s not the point, the corruption is a last resort weapon. It’s not meant to be reversed.”

“We’ll give it our best shot.” Domina said firmly. Steven nodded. “The base and the Earth can easily be given up, considering its mostly a formality, and both can easily be made a no-fly-zone, except for those wishing to take refuge in either place, which I trust you want responsibility in handling anyway”  Domina walked over to Steven to look at what he had written down, his handwriting was surprisingly really good.

“As for the kindergartens, I don’t know that there’s much that we can do there. The compounds used in the old style injectors is really harsh.”

“It created better quality gems.” Yellow Diamond said.

“It ruined planets that could have been put to better use.” Domina frowned, they had been having variations on the conversation for years.

“It is a problem that needs to be fixed, do you have a solution?” the Renegade pearl interjected.

“Well your Peridot sent me her notes on the agriculture her and Lapis have been attempting, I can give her and anyone else who wants it access to some information that might help.” Domina said. “It won’t be a complete recovery anytime soon but eventually.” The renegade nodded.

“Alright. I’ll take a copy of that as well.”

“Of course, and...the zoo.” Domina said.

“Both the humans and the bubbled Rose Quartzes.” Garnet said.

“Can’t we just bring the humans back to Earth?” Steven asked. Both Domina and the Renegade Pearl shook their heads rapidly.

“Their immune systems most likely wouldn’t be able handle the change. And the Earth of today is very different than it was five thousand years ago.” the Pearl said. Domina nodded.

“We could see if any of the Famethyst has any ideas” Amethyst said flipping over after a mid air spin dash.

“Famethyst?”

“Yeah the gems from the Earth kindergartens, they’re hanging out at the zoo now.” Amethyst said.

“They’re Quartzes, you can’t expect-”

“We’ll see about getting in contact with them.” Domina cut Yellow off again and received another glare from her fellow Diamond. “As for the Rose Quartzes there’s not any reason I can think of that they should remain bubbled.” She looked at Yellow Diamond. “Is there?”  Yellow frowned.

“No.” She muttered.Domina nodded satisfied.

“Excellent, if thats it?” Domina asked. The group nodded. “Well then, in return you’ll help us take back Homeworld?” She glanced between Blue Pearl and Garnet.

“We will,” Blue Pearl said. Garnet nodded.

“Then we have a deal.”