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wisterialagoon · 3 years

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For you, I'll stay : pt1

Dabi is one of the top soldiers of the League of Villains. He does the dirty work and feels the stain of crime on his hands. You're an Assistant Inspector at the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, resigned to records-keeping instead of doing actual fieldwork. What happens when these two become intertwined in the most prominent political event that changed the era of 1990's Tokyo Japan?

Warnings: Violence (a girl gets beat up in this chapter), gangs, eventual smut(not in this chapter tho)

Tokyo Metropolitan Police Agency, Kantō Region, Japan.

January 9th, 1990, Tuesday.

22:30 hrs.

"It's going to be a long night," she thought, while fixing her desk for the fifth time. There was a haphazard pile of file folders, an unboxed diskette pack, and coffee cup stains all over her table calendar. She quickly reorganises the file folders, placing them in chronological order, then according to crime. Then, she matches the diskettes, which contain additional data such as interrogation footage, with each pile. Lastly, she makes her way to the pantry to refill her mug with coffee, humming along to a tune that was receiving more airplay recently.

It was an uneventful night, to say the least. As usual, she worked overtime, working on organising the paperwork and records of each case-from instigation to case management. She loved it initially, but now that she's six months into this new assignment, she could feel herself wearing down with how emotionally, physically and mentally taxing everything is. It wasn't so much the quantity or frequency of the load, but the content itself.

Seeing death, rape, theft and disappearances on a daily basis was starting to take a toll on her mental health, and even if she learned how to compartmentalise, there was something about seeing all the details that made her sleep less and less these days. The photos of dead bodies or visages of crying relatives would disturb her to no end, and having to type out each case report even if it meant tagging it as a cold case, was something that never really sat well with her.

Her direct senior, the only female Inspector in the agency-the only one who was actually nice, unlike the rest of the police force who talk about her during lunch breaks and agency dinners-tell her that the feeling of being "uninvolved" and "useless" will soon pass. "Besides," she tells her during one of the rare nights that they're both doing overtime, "You've got potential."

She sighs, wary of the compliment. "I just... I wish I could be doing more."

"You'll have your fair share of fieldwork and interrogations, Y/N" she says, patting the younger girl's shoulder. "Just keep working well, and the Chief will soon see your potential."

That last line resonated with her the most. She knew that the Chief was a firm leader-he did routine inspections, called people in his office to ask for status reports and he'd set all sorts of deadlines. But he was also known for being experienced in reading people just with one look.

So the question was, what was his assessment of her?

Did the Chief view her just like how the rest of the agency did-an Assistant Inspector who was only fit for clerical work even if she had graduated at the top of her class? Did he even notice her presence in the building-or was she too conscious of all the judgemental stares thrown her way because she was the first female recruit in a long while?

That was it, she thought, not noticing that her cup had overflowed.

With a sharp curse, she flung her hand away from the scalding beverage, and moved to grab some tissues-her mind thoroughly forgetting the questions that had darted in her mind not a minute ago.

As she dabbled the tissue on her hands and shirt, the police hotline rang, disturbing the silence of the otherwise empty floor. Alarmed at the prospect of a crime or report coming in at this hour, she runs towards the desk of the patrol and public safety unit.

"SMPA, what is your concern?" she asks, voice surprisingly level. When there wasn't a response, she asks again, this time a notch louder.

"Kidnapping," the voice cuts through the radio silence, its texture a rich timbre with a raspy undertone. Caught off guard at the mention of a kidnapping, she scrambles for a notepad and a pen. "23:00, 6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan. Takahashi Yua." In hastily written script, she takes note of the details, not once interrupting the man on the line.

"Who is this? Where is your intel from?" she finally asks, after she hears mere breathing sounds. "Hello?"

The person on the line doesn't respond, instead opting to breathe heavily before the line dies.

"Wha-" she exhales, overwhelmed with the situation. It wasn't unheard of for random tips to come in the station, that much was true. But a tip at this time? And with that much detail? She was wary enough that there wasn't any crime traffic recently but this is proving to be the suspicious exception.

Shaking off her doubts, she dials the home number of Inspector Sato, the head of the patrol and public safety unit. She knows he'll definitely give her an earful for calling at such a late hour-and to his house no less, but if what the man said was true, and if her gut was right, someone was after the daughter of the Minister of National Defense.

At the sixth ring, he picks up and greets her with a litany of questions. "Who is this? Do you have any idea what time it is? Whoever you are, you better have a damn good reason for waking me up!" he rattles off, temper flaring.

"This is Miyasaki Y/N, sir." she says, surprised at how stable her voice was. "Assistant Inspec-"

"Ah, the personal assistant." his tongue clicks, and even if she didn't see, she knew he was shaking his head. "What is it? Here to ask help again in records-keeping?"

At that, she presses her mouth in a thin line, stopping herself from giving him a piece of her mind. She knew that they would always find fault in whatever she does but sometimes she wants to just put them in their place and prove herself.

But now wasn't the time to do that.

"No, sir." she starts, fisting her hand. "There's been an emergency call to the patrol and public service hotline. A tip was given about a kidnapping at apartment 6 Chome-10-1 in Roppongi -"

"Let me stop you right there." he expels a deep breath, clearly uninterested with her report. "You do know what that area is like, right? Or do you not even know where it is?"

"It's in Minato city. The residence listed houses many important political figures, it has national defence" she says, foregoing the other details and taking the opportunity to transition to the most important part. "Sir, you see, this could actually mean that-"

"This means that there is no kidnapping. I mean, if you're trying to pull a joke, it's a terrible one. Hell, there's hardly any crime in that area!" he gives a dry laugh. "it's an executive residential area, guarded and all that. As you said, National Defence is there and so are diplomats and expats. No one in their right mind would attempt a prank call, let alone a kidnapping."

"But the caller gave a name, possibly that of the victim. We should send a team, I have the address. I could lead the-" again, he cuts her off. At this point, a vein was threatening to pop at how unprofessional he was being, but she'd rather not break out into an argument with a direct senior-especially when he was clearly already annoyed at her.

"So this is why you really called, huh?" he chuckles. "Look, no one knows how you got in, or what strings you pulled to pass the Academy, but at the rate you're going, you'll never lead a team-much less my team." the certainty in his voice washed over her, causing her to remain silent at his blatant jibe. "So go back to whatever you're doing and don't even attempt to call me or anyone from the agency to waste their time with your tall tales." the other line clicks, ending their phone call.

Exasperated, she puts down the receiver with a little too much force than was necessary. "Fine, I'll do it myself." she mutters, putting on her coat, muffler and grabbing her car keys.

30 minutes. She'll have to pray that she makes it. After all, she doesn't have much time.

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

23:00 hrs.

The gate to the apartment building alone rendered her speechless. Pure brass balusters and a towering guardhouse greeted her, complete with intimidating security personnel who wasted no time in asking for her identification.

"Assistant Inspector Lee, from the SMPA. We received a tip about criminal activity taking place in the vicinity of this residence," she starts, not giving any specific details. "This won't take long." she adds, as a last ditch effort to convince them that she means business.

"Alright," one of the guards lets her through. As she rolled up her window, she catches a muffled dialogue between the two. "Isn't she a little too young to be an Inspector? And criminal activity? Talk about absurd."

Scoffing, she speeds up to the address the caller gave and in a few minutes, found herself outside the apartment building. But she was too late. There, standing by the of the main entrance, was the defence Minister himself, with blood on his hands and a shell-shocked expression.

"My daughter..." she hears him mutter. From just behind the door, she hears distant voices screaming for someone to call the police. "Dial the police! Or call the National Defense for all I care! Someone do something!" the voice got louder as she linked it with a face-Takahashi Riku, the Minister's wife. As if seeing the police lights flashing atop her car, The ministers knees gave out.

She makes haste to catch him before he falls, and as she does, she gets her shirt stained with blood, and scrapes her elbow with the force of his weight. Not minding the sting of the wind blowing by her scraped skin, she pulls out her walkie-talkie, and radios the police patrolling Roppongi that night.

"This is Assistant Inspector Miyasaki Y/N, does anyone copy?" she starts, practically shouting. For some reason, she felt an adrenaline rush at the development of events. "Repeat, this is Assistant Inspector Miyasaki, does anyone copy?"

After a few beats, a voice breaks through the white noise. "This is Inspector Takami, copy. What's your 10-13?"

"I've got a two zero seven." she says, forgetting that she hadn't even scouted the area for verification that a kidnapping actually took place. "6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City. Send a medic for shock treatment." she rattles off, surprised at herself for actually being able to focus and act given the situation.

Then again, this was her job. Her first fieldwork-albeit unwarranted and unapproved.

"Copy that, 10-4. I'll run code. ETA twenty minutes." he affirms his direct response before ending the dispatch call.

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

23:20 hrs.

After twenty minutes, two police cars pull up the driveway. One belonged to Inspector Takami, the other was the patrol for back-up. He closes the gap between them in five, quick strides, hands in his coat's pockets.

"What happened?" he asks, ready for a briefing.

"There's nothing definitive yet..." she trails off, mentally berating herself for not even scouting the interior to study the scene. "But I've spoken to the family."

"You mean you've spoken to the Minister of National Defense." he supplies, his breath fogging up in front of him. "What did he say?"

"The family heard the door slam shut, and when he went to check his daughter was gone," hesitant, she clears her throat as a stalling method. "He found her in the marking lot, the girl was bruised and bloodied, unconscious. Looks like she was forced to inhale somthing, and her hands were tied."

"Attempted kidnapping?" he asks, stealing a glance at the apartment buildings façade.

"High chance for it." she answers, clearing her throat again. "Listen, Inspector, I received a tip in the agency around an hour ago-saying something about a kidnapping taking place at this time, at this exact address."

He raises his eyebrows, evidently taken aback at this new piece of information. "And?" he asks, expectant.

"And I think this is a set-up." she declares, sure of something for the first time that night. "Whoever is behind this, wanted us to come, thinking it was a kidnapping when it was an assault and break-and-entry."

"What are you getting at, Miyasaki?"

"There's a reason why Miss. Takahashi was assaulted and not kidnapped. They're telling us something." she says, handing out her notepad which contained the details of the emergency call a while back.

"What do you think this could possibly be then?"

"I don't know... yet." fuelled with conviction, she fists her hands at her sides, no longer feeling that sensation of helplessness or uselessness back in the agency when she was working on records-keeping. "But I'll find out."

9-chome, Kitakarasuyama, Setagaya-ku, Tokyo.

Assistant Inspector Miyasaki Y/N's Residence.

02:00 hrs.

Finally back at her apartment after filing the case and sending off the Minister's family with words of certainty about exhausting their whole force on the job, she slumps on the sofa, feeling her body become dead weight.

"God..." she sighs, fatigued. "That was a long night."

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jasper-tarot-reader · 2 years

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Hello, Jasper!

Firstly, I want to thank you for your tarot readings! I would be grateful to you to let me get one for me. As I understood, it's free.

You can call me Lilou. My pronouns are she/they.

Let me introduce you to my story.

Now I'm a senior in high school. In a few months, I'll go to university. At least, my family expect this. And I understand that in the country where I live, people more often become successful having a university degree. Maybe it's not a big problem for other countries. I don't know much about it. Well, back to my thing. Now I need to choose what profession I want to get. It's not easy for me at all. That's why I'd like to have advice from tarot if I'm allowed to.

So, my question is, what profession does fit me most? Or, maybe, in what profession do I have the biggest potential to be successful?

Thank you, again. I hope I fulfilled all the conditions.

Wishing you peace and best luck,

Lilou💛

Hey there Lilou!

Yes, my readings here are free, but if you want to tip for my services, please consider donating to a relief fund for Mayfield, KY or Edwardsville, IL! Both were recently hit by intense tornadoes, so anything you can spare would be greatly appreciated!

I understand the confusion and frustration. Here in the US, people are pushed to go to college and get degrees that they're never actually able to end up using because having a degree doesn't guarantee you a job (especially not here in the Midwest).

I poked your blog a bit to get a better gist of who you are as a person and noticed that you seem to really love astrology, so I used Arcane (the Arcana of Astrology oracle) for this reading! To hopefully help alleviate some of the fear you may be feeling, I drew a card for both questions you asked - because these are not the same question, even if you think they are.

Question 1: What profession may fit Lilou the most? Answer 1: Lilith, the Shadow

The keywords of this card are shadows, darkness, power, equality, mystery, wild, and pettiness.

In astrology, Lilith is a comet that shows us where we should not compromise. In Jewish text, she is a demon who refused to sleep with Adam if they were not equal and then went on to become a baby-eating demon.

And in a reading, this card shows that when we stand up for ourselves, we're often faced with backlash and further punishment. This card tells us to not back down - you have the capacity to downright destroy those who continue to oppress you. But remember that strength sometimes is just walking away from the goals and expectations others have set for us.

So there are two ways to read this card in this context.

One is "fuck what everyone else says, fuck even going to college, do what makes you happy". While that's a fantastic message, it doesn't exactly answer your question.

The second way is as an advocate. Someone who stands up for others and gets them the help and resources they need. A lawyer, a therapist, a nurse, any of these could be indicated by the Lilith card in this deck. If you find yourself to be a very people-oriented person, these could be good careers for you.

Question 2: In what profession does Lilou have the biggest potential to be successful? Answer 2: Hygeia, the Purifier

This card's keywords are healing, cleaning, hygiene, and medicine.

In astrology, this comet (or asteroid, whichever term is actually right) is the ultimate proponent of health, ruling over eating habits, health issues, exercise, and how we interact with our environment. In Greek mytho-religion, she is the goddess of good health, daughter and attendant of Asklepios, companion of Aphrodite, and granddaughter of Apollo.

This card usually indicates a "spring cleaning" of one's mind, body, and physical space. We can only run on empty for so long before we get struck down. It can also mean a search for help on the medical front due to health issues. Like everything, this has the potential to spiral out of control, so self-restraint and critical thinking are still necessary.

More than with Lilith, this card is giving me major nurse or other medical practitioner vibes. Emergency medical services, nurses, doctors, even psychologists for more mind-focused healing - this could be a field you could be successful in if you really put your mind to it.

Gosh, I wish more querents would be like you and give me such amazing information to work with so I could make my reading as accurate as possible! As with everything, remember that the future is always changing, and your future is ultimately up to you.

Leave feedback as another ask that I can publish publicly and tell me what parts felt right, if anything felt off, stuff like that. Until you do, you will be added to my greylist. Please reblog my reading guidelines!

~Jasper

#tarot reading #honeyimtiredofeverything #the arcana of astrology lilith #the arcana of astrology hygeia #answered

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soybeantree · 4 years

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pairing: johnny x reader

genre/warning: fluff, magic!au

word count: 3k

description: you hated him. his stupid face smiling. his stupid charisma that would always woo the customers - of which you had no doubt was aided by the use of magic. his stupid cousin - that you actually adored and would kill to have him even notice you, but who continuously chose johnny over you for assistance. and most of all you hated how your lungs forgot their one job whenever he was within 5 feet of you.

a/n: from the essem: rosemary by moonlight universe. not necessary to read that first, but some things may not make complete sense.

"I'd like an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and a pump of pep. To go." The customer rattles off her order as she approaches the counter, never sparing you a greeting or even a glance. From her clean-cut bob to her khaki shorts and salmon button down, you know exactly how this conversation is going to go.

Contorting your cheeks into your best customer service smile and using your most pleasant tone, you inform her, "I'm sorry ma'am, but any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the cafe."

Now, she glances at you, her wallet poised in her hand as her face falls into what you refer to as the entitled scowl. "Excuse me?"

“Any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the café.” You repeat, despite the fact that you enunciated clearly the first time. To help with any possible confusion, you gesture to the bright golden script at the bottom of the menu which states the same.

The woman scoffs, and you inhale a deep, imperceptible breath. “Why?” Indignation laces the word and colors her cheeks red.

Many reasons. Most of which revolve around negligence and exploitation, but that explanation drags. Reminding yourself that you want this job and have jumped through hoops to get it, you dredge up every ounce of patience in your body. With a smile still in place, you say. “We strive to abide by the standards set forth within the Council’s Magical Charter. I would be more than happy to complete your order, but any drink with magical add-ins must be consumed on property.”

“I-“ You brace yourself for the entitled tirade, but the woman’s face melts into a bewildered smile. A glance over your shoulder reveals the reason. Johnny, your fellow barista, stands behind you, his cheeks pulled back by a swoon worthy grin.

With a sigh, you step away from the counter and let Johnny work his magic. Quite literally. Johnny, like you, has the skill of enchantment. As a member of the Essem Family, he has had access to training and knowledge all his life. You on the other hand come from a no name family who has one grimoire passed down from generation to generation, and the two-page section on enchantment only works for curing melancholy.

In moments, Johnny has the woman pacified with an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and no pump of pep, to go. She sends him another smile before she nearly collides with the door on her way out. After a giggle which Johnny echoes, she is gone, and you’re ready to vomit.

"Did you add a shot of charm to your coffee this morning?" You ask as you resume your position.

Johnny flashes you a grin while raising a single smug eyebrow. "No, I'm just naturally this charming." You gag as you turn away which elicits a chuckle from him. “What, you don’t think I’m charming?”

“I think you are a talented witch.” You say as you reorganize your station. While leaning over the counter to schmooze the woman, Johnny managed to throw the entire place into disarray. You return the business cards to their holder and the pencils to their cup.

“You really think I’m using magic when I calm irritated customers?”

A twang in his voice draws your attention back to him. Glancing over your shoulder, your stomach twists. For such a tall man, he can make himself appear so small. His shoulders hunch in as he fiddles with the ties on his apron. The posture throws his long bangs into his eyes, obscuring them from your scrutiny.

The answer to his question is “yes”, but the answer brews from a petty spite which you stoke every time Minseok, the café’s owner and the foremost expert on enchantment magic, chooses him as an assistant over you. The whole reason you strived for a position at the café was to become Minseok’s apprentice, but every day he chooses Johnny to help with his brews. While you enjoy blaming Johnny, you know the favoritism is due to the inclusiveness of the covens. After all, Johnny is Minseok’s cousin.

“Since when do you care what I think? I thought I was just the hired help.”

His head snaps up, the ties of his apron forgotten as he gazes into your eyes. The contact cools your spite, and it sours. Your stomach rolls at the discomfort, and you clear your throat and return to your reorganization.

“Minseok doesn’t hire just anyone to help in the café.”

You know this. You badgered him for a job ever since Johnny told you about his cousin and his café. Minseok had been the sole employee for years after the café’s inception, hiring Johnny only when the café’s popularity grew. Eventually, the work became too much for the two of them, and rather than hire a qualified enchantment witch, Minseok had hired the girl with little-to-no skill who practically lived at the shop.

“Whatever.” You grumble as you throw another pencil into the holder. The force sends the jar spinning. It falls on its side spilling its contents across the counter. With a growl, you reach for the scattered pencils, but Johnny’s long arms reach around you. The pencils disappear into one hand as his other rights the holder before returning the contents.

You duck out from under Johnny’s unintentional embrace, your cheeks burning. He has to be using his magic. You hold tight to this belief as you breathe to calm your racing heart.

“Minseok likes having you here. You’re as detail oriented as he is.” Johnny nods to the front and back counters both of which have everything in their place and a place for everything. “I’m pretty certain you’re the only person in the world who understands his organizational method.”

“It’s not that hard. Ingredients are organized first by purchase date and then alphabetical. Supplies are..." You trail off as you catch sight of Johnny’s smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You really expect me not to think you’re using magic when you always seem to know exactly what to say to distract me?”

He shrugs, but his smirk only grows. “There are other reasons, I might know that.” Before you can question him further, the bell above the front door jingles. “Duty calls.” He tips his head to you before disappearing back into the brewing room.

With a deep breath, you shove the conversation from your mind and rattle off the customary greeting as you turn to face the new customer.

“Good morning, Y/N. How goes the grind?” You blink a moment as your brain registers that your cousin is here. She misses your confusion as she is too busy chuckling at her pun.

"It’s great. How goes your fruitless endeavor to start a school of magic?"

She scowls which brings a genuine smile to your face. "It's not fruitless. It's slow moving because covens are full of stuck up assholes who refuse to share their knowledge because of what? They're afraid it will diminish their power and their prestige. They need to get their heads out of their asses and think about how much better the world would be if we all worked together and shared our knowledge."

This tirade is as familiar as the Entitled tirade. "And yet, you always get coffee at an Essem café?" You comment as you punch her order into the register.

"Minseok has the best coffee.” She hands you her card. “Everyone in the city knows that. Everyone in the world probably knows it too."

"But you're supporting the coven with the most stuck up assholes." You return the card to her.

"You're working at the coffee shop."

"But I don't have the same issues with them that you do." Not mostly at least. You would appreciate it if Minseok occasionally asked you back into the brewing room.

She shrugs. “Did you place that order for here or to go?”

“To go?” You raise a brow.

“I need it for here.”

“Why?” You stretch the word into two syllables.

“Because I’m staying here.” Rolling your eyes, you adjust the order. "I'm supposed to be meeting up with Yuri." She explains as she checks her watch. "But, she's late as usual."

Your finger pauses above the register as you gawk at your cousin. "Yuri? As in the hedge-witch of the Stahn Family?"

"Yuri is much more than a hedge witch."

"Okay, whatever,” You hold up your hands, stopping whatever tirade she will surely start. “But she’s a Stahn and this is an Essem cafe?"

"Yes,” she crosses her arm, and there is no stopping this coming tirade. “Why is it so hard to understand what me and the Fantagios are trying to do? We want to create a world where people can see beyond their family covens and share knowledge for the benefit of the world."

Leaning forward, you shorten the distance between you and your cousin. The more heated she becomes the louder she gets. The customers have already started to side eye her, and the last thing you need is for Johnny and, especially, Minseok to hear her. "That's great and all. But your dream is not reality and you agreed to meet up with a Stahn on Essem territory. They're basically mortal enemies. This could end in bloodshed, and I could lose my job because I'm related to you."

"Calm down. Yuri wouldn't have agreed to meet here if she was worried for her safety."

You swallow your rebuttal as you hear the hinges of the brewing room door squeak. Your cousin’s eyes grow to the size of saucers, and you wonder why Minseok is delivering her coffee. He rarely leaves the brewing room, leaving all the deliveries to Johnny.

Minseok extends a mug to your cousin who whimpers a “thank you” as she takes it. She sips. Her cheeks flush, but whether that is due to Minseok or the heat of the coffee only your cousin knows.

“Is it good?” Minseok’s question raises one of your brows. In the year and a half that you’ve been working for Minseok, you have never heard him ask a customer’s opinion of his work. Pink tinges the tips of his ears, and you have to refrain from pinching yourself. Maybe, this whole day has been a dream.

“It’s delicious.” Your cousin, the queen of social justice tirades, simpers.

The nausea from earlier returns as you suffer through the ensuing conversation. Despite your effort to tune it out, you hear Minseok comment on your cousin’s frequent visits to the café. She explains that you’re her cousin, which you wish she would have left out given what is about to happen, and that he makes the best coffee in the city. His whole ears brighten at the compliment, the red creeping into his cheeks. Surely, a customer is bound to come in soon and end this disgusting display of emotions.

“Y/N can keep you company while you wait.”

Your name snaps your attention back to the conversation. You blink as you search your brain for the lead into the statement but find nothing. “What?”

“I was telling Uko,” Your cousin must have introduced herself while you attempted disassociation, “that you can take your break early to wait with her.”

“Oh, I mean sure if you’re okay with that.” The look on Minseok’s face screams that he would be okay with anything that your cousin wanted.

“Go ahead.” He motions for you to be on your way, and with a slight nod, you head into the brewing room which offers the exit into the main area.

Johnny, busy at a cauldron, eyes you as you walk past him and remove your apron. “Where are you going?”

“I’m taking my break.” You say with a shake of your head as you hang your apron on its hook.

A glance at the clock scrunches up Johnny’s face and puffs out his already large lips. “But, your break’s in an hour?”

“Listen,” you say, turning to face him completely. “I don’t know what I just witnessed out there.” You gesture to the door behind which you are certain the uncomfortable situation is continuing. “But, Minseok said go to break, so I am going to break.”

“What did you witness?” Johnny grabs a mortar and pestle from the counter and adds three pinches to his cauldron. A faint smell of strawberries wafts through the room bringing with it the image of sunlight fields and a gentle breeze. He’s brewing happiness. The ingredient he added was green. Was it an herb? A stone? A mixture of different things? “Y/N?”

“What?” Your mind snaps back to the moment as you remember that Johnny did ask a question. “Is your cousin dating anyone?” You ask rather than answer.

Johnny pauses mid-stir and stares at you. “No.” He draws out the word as he slowly starts to stir the cauldron counter clockwise. “Are you asking for a friend?”

Your eyes narrow at his tone. “No, I’m asking because he’s currently flirting with my cousin, and it’s gross.”

“What?!” His whole face lights up, and he nearly spills the cauldron in his haste to reach the door to the order counter. Sprinting across the room, you reach the door before he does and block it with your body.

“What are you doing?” You pant as your lungs struggle to refill.

“Our family, at least the cool people in our family, have a bet going that Minseok has a wife and two kids in hiding or that he is a celibate monk. I bet that he hasn’t found the right one. Now move, so I can prove I was right and win the bet.” He tries to shove you to the side, but you dig your heels in and refuse to budge. “Come on.” He whines, pulling his bottom lip up into a pout.

“If you want me to move, then you had better use your magic because this is already ridiculous enough.” Fortifying yourself for the oncoming attack, you blink in surprise when Johnny steps back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to. I can ask Minseok about it when he comes back here.” He returns to the cauldron. The potion has turned a putrid shade of green, and Johnny hisses as he tries to fix the problem.

Staying would provide you valuable knowledge, but Minseok has yet to approve your assistance with the brewing. Staying also means you would witness the next installment of this non-thrilling saga.

Minseok and your cousin are still talking when you exit the brewing room into the main area. They probably haven’t even realized how long you’ve been gone or that their conversation was almost interrupted by an overly inquisitive mind.

“There’s a free table over there.” You bust into the middle of a conversation about magical vs. non-magical cleaning products.

“Right.” Your cousin looks to you, then back to Minseok. “It was very nice talking with you.” Her smile stretches across her face. “Maybe we could talk more later.”

Minseok’s smile is more subdued than your cousin’s, but it’s more than what you witness on a typical Tuesday. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Minseok.” Johnny’s head pops out of the brewing room. “I need your help with something.” The stench of rotten fruit leaks through the open door. Minseok mutters a quick apology before disappearing into the brewing room.

You take a seat at the free table, a smug smile on your face. Your cousin is slower to take her seat, her smile still in place. “Is this really the first time you’ve met Minseok?” You ask when she finally settles in her seat.

“Yes,” she answers though her eyes remain on the brewing room door. “He had already graduated when I started high school. I heard about him from the upperclassmen, but they did not do him justice. He is one fine man.”

“Gross. Can you take your thirsty ass and get out of my place of work?”

“You work in a coffee shop, a place where thirsty people are literally supposed to come.” She quips back, finally glancing at you.

“Please, people don’t come to cafes because they’re thirsty. They come to work, socialize, or take aesthetic photos, and maybe sometimes for caffeine.”

Before she can formulate a rebuttal, the bell above the front door jingles, and in walks the reason for your cousin’s visit. In your disgust, you had forgotten the threat to your job. Panic races through your veins as your attention shifts to the counter. You wish for all the luck in the world, but luck abandons you. Instead of Johnny coming to greet the new customer, Minseok emerges once again. Habit controls him as he smiles and gives the customary greeting. Only after the last word leaves his mouth does recognition register in his eyes.

"Yuri." The name is a question and a greeting.

The hedge-witch tilts her head a fraction of a degree in the semblance of a nod. "Minseok." She returns the greeting. You wait - breath held, heart racing - for the coming altercation.

"Kyungsoo's been looking for you. He seems to be worried about something. Is everything okay?"

"You can mind your own damn business." She huffs, her arms crossing over her chest.

You flinch, but Minseok chuckles. "I'm merely a messenger."

"Well messenger, you can tell Kyungsoo - and please make this verbatim - 'I'm fine. Thank you. You can suck my dick'."

Minseok jots the message down on his guest check book, glancing up at Yuri when he finishes. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all."

"Would you like to order anything?"

"Hell, no. I'm here to meet with someone." She glances around the shop.

You shrink down in your chair, hoping to avoid detection, but your cousin shreds that hope. She waves her hand, drawing both of their attention to you two. Minseok’s eyes rest on you for a moment before shifting to your cousin.

Yuri returns the wave as she walks to your table. "Hey Uko, sorry I'm late. The potion needed to brew a little longer this morning than I anticipated. I blame this muggy weather. It's messing with everything I make. Is this your cousin?" She nods to you as she plunks into the last of the three chairs at your table. Uko nods her head. "Nice to meet you."

"You might not think it's so nice. She works here."

A hiss slips out as Yuri shakes her head. "Why must the young always be corrupted?"

"Don't worry. I might not have a job for much longer." You sigh as you push yourself out of your chair. "Breaks over. I’ll find out soon enough if I do or not."

"Minseok might be an Essem, but he's not going to fire you because you have a connection to me.” Yuri assures you. “If he does though, let me know and I'll kick his ass." Yuri grins, showing all of her teeth, and you chuckle despite the anxieties waging war in your stomach.

Walking back into the brewing room, you grab your apron and slip it on while keeping your back to Minseok and Johnny. With a deep breath, you turn to face them. Johnny stands over the cauldron which is a deep forest green and simmering pleasantly. You breathe in the smell of strawberries and hope the happiness has rubbed off on Minseok who is standing beside Johnny and whispering instructions.

With a glance up, Minseok pats Johnny on the shoulder and walks towards you. Lifting leaden feet, you meet him by the door to the ordering counter.

A volley of words waits on your tongue, but they retreat when Minseok asks, “Can you give this to your cousin?” The “this” he is referring to is a folded scrap of paper.

You take the paper, nodding as you slip it into the back pocket of your jeans. “Sure. What is it?”

A small smile lifts his cheeks, and his voice is soft when he says, “My number.”

You choke on your response, and you can hear Johnny chuckling as you attempt to regain your breath. Minseok offers to get you a drink, but you wave off his concern. “What?” You finally manage to get out.

“I forgot to ask for your cousin’s number when we were talking.” He pouts. “I was hoping you would give her mine and tell her she can text me whenever.”

“Sure.” You pause before asking, “Should I go back to work now?”

“Of course.” His response is instantaneous and a flood of relief washes through you. “And thank you.” He adds, the corners of his mouth quirking up. With a nod, he returns to Johnny’s side.

Exiting the brewing room, you shake your head. On the plus side, you still have your job. On the negative side, your cousin might start dating your boss which may not be a complete negative but it definitely isn’t a positive.

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