#I am not going to ask random guests how they're doing that is Not normal

[hellohoihey]

Why am i working in a restaurant. I got asked to make small talk with people today i think they want me to die.

#Gonna be honest I'm here because I get to go outside a lot in the summer and also a little in the winter #And there's birds there and sometimes even butterflies. Cool as fuck. I'll just be walking around with a look of wonder & joy in my eyes #I am not going to ask random guests how they're doing that is Not normal #If they wanna talk to me they can start that convo lol I am already too anxious to ask ppl how their food is most of the time #Literally at the end of the day I was told like yeah we're coaching to better service and shit now was everything okay? #*me who thought about quiting my job because I'm not cut out for this several times in just the first hour* yeah no - helpful tips! :) #sayingthing #Ughh #Maybe now that I know it's a general thing I might stop worrying they're going to Have a Conversation with me #and fire me later because I made mistake oooh👍

[aranciafiamma]

Boy in the Ice pt. 3

1:26 p.m.

"Hail, fair maidens!"

Ochako stops mid-stride, sharing a look with her friends. They turn in sync to take in the stranger approaching them. He has light brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a black blazer paired with jeans. Overall, he looks average save for the touch of foreign in his features. Except the definition of foreign gets more and more abstract these days, with all kinds of folk immigrating to Japan, and all the ways a quirk can mutate someone's looks. So maybe this guy is Japanese. Ochako can't say for sure. But he definitely feels out of place.

"Is he talking to us?" Ochako murmurs to Jiro. She gets a clueless shrug for an answer. Biting her lip, Ochako feels her stomach squeeze, as if she was attempting to levitate a heavy load.

School let out early today and with the long weekend starting tomorrow, they now have a chance to go shopping. Everyone is missing some kind of necessity - shampoo, soy sauce, socks, etc. And with all the craziness lately, they agreed that something normal and boring would be nice.

The plan was to head downtown, snag a few snacks, check out any new stores, maybe even play a couple rounds of dress up. Even if they never bought a single shirt, they always had a good laugh trying on new outfits. Ochako had been looking forward to that. But one look at this stranger and she knew that things are about to go sideways.

They're halfway across campus when this guy calls out to them. So he got past the gates somehow, and sure, he could have been invited in by someone. Except it's after school on the eve of a long weekend. There aren't even any makeup classes or club meetings because of the holiday coming up. The campus is deserted except for the handful of staff to supervise the dorm students (and their new guests). If Ochako was a gambling kinda girl, she would bet good money that their guests have something to do with this random dude walking around their campus.

"How goes the day?" The stranger asks, and wow. He sure sounds like an extra from those ancient samurai movies. Seriously, no one talks like that.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Good ol' Yaomomo, always on top of things - they would be a wreck and likely dead without her.

"Pardon me, I have been far too forward. I am Basil, at your service."

"Basil who?" Mina pipes up, hands on her hips.

"I am a friend of Lord Sawada. He is currently enjoying your hospitality."

"Sawada?" Ochako echoes, frowning. "So you're friends with Tsuna-san?"

"Aye."

There it is. She totally called it.

"Pray, may I know if you reside on these grounds?"

"Why you asking?" Jiro lifts her chin and pins Basil with a needle-point glare. "And why are you here? Did Tsuna-san call you? Do the teachers know that you're here?"

"Peace. Peace. I mean not to offend." Basil smiles ruefully, holding up his hands. "I am a stranger in your lands, and I call upon your aid to find my way."

"Okay… That didn't really answer Jiro-chan's questions," Tsu-chan points out. "And do you have to talk like that? It's a little hard to take you seriously."

Basil chuckles, eyes pinching in the corners. "Doubt me not, good lady. I only seek to escort Lord Sawada back to his home."

"Boss isn't here."

Ochako flinches. She whips around and finds Chrome standing a few steps away. Her hands clench into fists as she forcefully calms her startled heart. Someone needs to put a bell on Chrome-san before she induces cardiac arrest. Honestly, Ochako is reluctantly impressed. As a hero-in-training, with considerable experience in combat, her senses are keener compared to most of the general public. But somehow, Chrome-san always manages to spook her. This time, Ochako didn't even hear her coming or see her coming - as if Chrome-san appeared out of thin air. Toru-chan could learn a lot from her.

"Lady Chrome! Good fortune blesses me with your presence."

Chrome-san blinks, slow and almost sleepy. She's hard to read as always, as if her mind is out to sea, as if her body is a wisp of smoke. And okay, Ochaka has an invisible girl for a classmate so the absence of facial cues is not new to her. But it's not about what she sees and more about what she believes. The truth is that Chrome-san stands right in front of her and Ochako can't believe that she's there. Something in her brain is telling her that Chrome-san does not exist even with visual and auditory proof. It's tripping her up.

"Boss left."

"Wait, you guys can do that?" Mina cuts in, scratching her head. "Weren't you guys stuck on campus or something?"

Chrome-san shrugs.

"Would you know where he went?" Basil asks, and he sounds earnest. He must have been looking forward to seeing Tsuna-san.

Huh. Well, it has been six months - that's half a year - since Tsuna-san crash landed in their school. If Ochako had disappeared for that long then miraculously returned, her parents would have been a wreck. Nothing would have kept them away from her.

And now that she's thinking about it… Where are Tsuna-san's parents?

A sigh from Basil drags Ochako out of her head. She must have missed Chrome-san's answer or maybe Chrome-san just didn't answer. Either way, Basil looks none too happy, with his head hanging low and his shoulders slumping. An air of absolute exhaustion seems to envelope him. And oof, maybe Ochako's been getting paranoid from all the stuff that happened recently. She had no good reason to be so weird about Basil. Yeah, sure the guy talks funny but apart from the possible trespassing (which okay, that's a pretty big deal actually), Basil seems pretty polite and soft-spoken. He hasn't made threats or demands or anything to show that he's some kind of danger to her or her friends. Ochako should have been more welcoming, especially since he seems to have missed Tsuna-san terribly.

"We can help you find him, if you'd like." Ochako offers a friendly smile. "You don't know the way around, right? And we were just about to go downtown anyway. Maybe you'll find Tsuna-san there."

Basil shakes his head. "I have depended on your patience for long enough. Please excuse me."

"Are you sure?" Tsu-chan chimes in. "Because we really wouldn't mind, kero."

Basil looks them over, pursing his lips. Then his eyes drift up, locking onto Chrome-san behind them. There's a split second of something, Ochako isn't sure what. It's over before she could really think about it, and then Basil is smiling nice and wide with a lot of teeth.

"You have my sincere gratitude, gentle ladies. I am in your care."

"Sheesh," Jiro snorts. "You talk worse than Fumikage. Let's hope you two never meet."

"Chrome-san, would you like to -" Yaomomo's gasp cuts off her question.

Ochako turns and flinches hard. Chrome-san is glaring at them. For once, emotion colors her face, transforming her delicate features into something sharper, more vicious.

"Chrome-san?" Tsu-chan murmurs softly. "Is something wrong?"

Chrome-san squeezes her eyes shut, breathing in deeply. All at once, her expression flattens out, returning to its usual neutral state. She shakes her head once.

"I am not feeling well. I will be heading back to my room." Chrome-san tells them, speaking more words than Ochako has ever heard from her. "Have a good time… Stay safe."

Then she walks away, never looking back. What just happened? Something happened. Ochako considers chasing after Chrome-san, just to make sure that she's really okay. But a hand drops on her shoulder before she could make a move.

"Let's give her some space," Yaomomo whispers, barely loud enough for Ochako to hear. "We can check on her later."

Ochako bites her lip, pinching her brow. Yaomomo is right - of course, she's right. Chrome-san didn't seem to want any company, the exact opposite actually. Ochako should leave her alone. But… The hero-in-training couldn't shake the dread curdling in her gut.

"Shall we hasten to the market?" Basil asks them. "Daylight is fading and I would not like to burden you for too long."

Ochako sucks in a deep, steadying breath. Then she nods at Yaomomo. Together, they face Basil with polite grins.

"You aren't a burden, Basil-san."

"Yep, yep. C'mon now, let's head on out!"

The group makes their way off campus, strolling down the side streets, making idle chatter. They learn that Basil taught himself Japanese, studying the language through classic Samurai films. He tells them that his boss helped somewhat, but only encouraged his archaic way of phrasing. At this point, Basil is fully aware that he sounds funny but in truth, he prefers old-fashioned speech. He feels more distinguished and sophisticated - completely unlike how he speaks in his native tongue.

Of course, this confession prompts all the girls to ask for a demonstration. A blushing Basil obliges them with several phrases in Italian. To their clueless ears, Basil sounds polite and soft-spoken, nothing unusual. But he assures them that if he had said this to a fellow Italian, they would be throwing punches before the last word left his lips.

Their chatter is cut short when they reach downtown. A thick layer of tension blankets the main street as agitated shoppers skirt around a massive crater embedded in the road. Police tape already surrounds the affected area with a few officers nearby, taking statements and offering assurances. Making note of all that, the girls tug Basil towards their favorite café where their familiar faces encourage the waitress to share all the shocking details.

A fireball fell from the sky. Everyone ran. But before a hero could arrive at the scene, the fire died out, revealing a boy without any clothes. Wisps of smoke rose from his bare skin as he kneeled in the crater. No one dared approach except for a loud, angry blond. Mean sparks danced between his fingers as he yelled at everyone to stay back and mind their own business. He had jumped down and crouched next to the boy, exchanging a few words, before he hauled him over his shoulder like a sack of rice. The two didn't wait for a hero or even police to help, simply walked away and out of sight. A few tried to stop them with well-intentioned queries, but the blond had a glare that could cut through metal. As for everyone else, well… they didn't want to buy trouble, not even in a shopping district. The boys were long gone by the time police showed up.

Ochako squeezes her eyes shut. At her side, Tsu-chan lets out a long, belabored sigh. Yaomomo requests for a table.

Once they were all seated, the girls share a look the way only intimate friends could. Jiro lets out a chuckle. Tsu-chan slips out a giggle. Mina barks out a laugh. When Yaomomo and Ochako join in, they're in full blown hysterics.

Of course! Why wouldn't Bakugou be involved? It just had to be someone from their class. Honestly, 1-B does not find half the bullshit that they seem to crash into on a weekly basis. They're all such problem children, ergo problems keep finding them. If Aizawa-sensei survives this year without losing his sanity, he would accomplish a miraculous feat.

"Um, I beg your pardon." Basil raises his hand, like a student asking a question. "I aim not to shorten your mirth. I simply wish to know about this Bakugou fellow."

"He's a crazy tough guy!" Mina tells him.

"His default volume is loud, and he only gets louder," Jiro adds.

"Bakugou Katsuki is one of our classmates," Yaomomo explains. "He is another hero-in-training and one of the best in our class. He does get angry often but he isn't the dangerous sort. Let's just say that he can be difficult at times."

"Well, he has enough goodwill to aid that other boy," Basil replies. "That is to his credit."

Ochako blinks. "Yeah… What's up with that? I mean, I'm not saying that he wouldn't help some random kid. But I'm also not not saying that he wouldn't help some random kid."

"So then… Bakugou musta known the guy." Jiro drums her fingers on the table. "Right? That's why he went through all that trouble."

"Does Bakugou-chan know anyone with a fireball quirk? I mean, not counting Todoroki-chan, of course," Tsu-chan asks with a tilt of her head.

"Who knows…" Ochako sighs.

"Where would this Bakugou fellow take his friend - if we are to presume that the unknown boy is a friend. It seems hasty of him to leave before peace officers could intervene."

"Yeah… But Bakugou does his own thing, yanno?" Mina replies. "Especially when he thinks that he's right. Which is most of the time, bee-tee-dubs. So… huh. Where would he take the guy?"

"If I was gonna guess," Ochako chimes in. "I'd say that Bakugou would take him back to school. But we didn't see him on the way here, unless he took a different route. Except that wouldn't make much sense, since any other route would just be longer and more inconvenient."

"That is strange…" Basil hums, pursing his lips. "And… I may have the explanation."

"Oh, please share your thoughts." Yaomomo nods at him.

"Kindly note that I only have theories and nothing that can be confirmed without additional evidence. With that said, I believe that your peer came to aid Lord Sawada."

"Tsuna-san?" Ochako frowns, folding her brow. "So, wait… You think that… The guy who fell from the sky - the guy on fire - that was Tsuna-san?"

"That dude's makin' a habit out of falling from the sky." Jiro shakes her head. "This would be what? The second time he's done this?"

"It would be imperative to know Sir Bakugou's location, so that we may confirm if Lord Sawada is in his care."

Ochako studies Basil's heavy frown, the hard-set fold of his brow. She pulls out her phone and starts texting Bakugou.

"Are you messaging him?" Mina asks. "Tell him the teachers are gonna freak when they hear about this."

"Like he'd care," Jiro scoffs.

Ochako doesn't get an immediate reply but that doesn't mean anything. Bakugou isn't very responsive usually, unless he's pissed off then he sends a text every second. If he's not in the mood, he could leave someone on "read" for days. Right now, Ochako can't even tell if Bakugou looked at her message yet. Maybe he's just not on his phone. She'll have to wait a little longer to find out for sure if he's with Tsuna-san.

She tells as much to everyone around her. Mina groans. Jiro rolls her eyes. Tsu-chan shakes her head. Yaomomo orders them a round of drinks.

Basil hums a flat note. "Mayhaps, he has simply gone home."

Ochako perks up. "Oh, you're right! He doesn't live too far from here, just a few train stations away. Back when we weren't living on campus, he and Deku-kun never had so much trouble getting to school."

"He lives up north, right?" Jiro asks, crossing her arms. "He and Midoriya live close to each other. That's how they met, I heard."

"Well, I don't know how close. But they both grew up in the Orudera district and went to the same schools. That's what Deku-kun told me, at least."

"Yanno, rumors say that Bakugou's pretty rich. He's got some fancy, modern-looking house. His dad's a designer or something, right?" Mina adds.

"How do you know that?" Jiro furrows her brow.

"Oh, just gossip. Honestly, you guys should keep your ears more open. We have the biggest busybodies in our class." Mina waves her hand.

"Tooru-chan isn't a busybody!" Tsu-chan protests.

"I was talking about Aoyama," Mina cackles.

"Nevermind that now," Yaomomo speaks up. "We should focus on helping Basil-san."

"But that gives me an idea…" Ochako quickly taps her phone, sending a second message. "Maybe Deku-kun can help."

Mina peers over her shoulder. "Hey, why did you star Midoriya's message thread? Hmm?"

Ochako immediately pulls away from Mina, heat flushing her face. "No, I didn't! Shut up!"

Jiro cackles. "You're so red! You look like a tomato, Ochako-cha~an!"

Ochako balls up her napkin and throws it at Jiro. Her so-called friend dodges, continuing to laugh.

"Do you really like-like Deku-kun?" Tsu-chan asks, tilting her head.

"We will stop if you wish," Yaomomo nods. "Admittedly, teasing you is quite enjoyable. You react so cutely. But we will stop at your request."

Ochako pouts. "No, it's fine. I'm not really bothered. As long as Deku-kun doesn't hear about this, then it's fine. And honestly, I'm not that sure about… you know… feelings. We're good friends, and all that."

"Well, I ship it," Mina says. "You would make a great couple. So when you get your stuff figured out, shoot your shot girl! We're in high school! We're at the height of our hormones! We gotta maximize that teenage experience!"

There's a round of giggling agreement as Yaomomo, Jiro, and Tsu-chan express their support. Basil politely keeps quiet, studying his drink as if cola held the universe's secrets.

Ochako groans, dropping her head on the table. "You guuuuys! Somehow, I'm both incredibly embarrassed and super happy? I can't tell if you're the best or the worst!"

"Why not both?" Ochako can't see Jiro's face but a smug smirk was somehow implied in her words.

"Then what about you, Mina-chan? Do you have any crushes, kero?" Tsu-chan, officially Ochako's best friend, turns everyone's attention on someone else.

Mina clicks her tongue. "I wish! Everyone's my bro. No one has swept me off my feet. But I guess that's too much to ask from a high school boy."

"What about a high school girl?" Jiro asks.

"Same difference."

Ochako lifts her head, just in time to see a devious smile curl Jiro's lips.

"Is that a challenge?"

Inherently incapable of backing down, Mina sits up straight and slams her hands on the table. "What? Are you gonna romance me, bro?"

Jiro leans forward. "What if I did, bro?"

"Just name the time and the place, bro!"

"Tomorrow, 4pm, at that new cafe, bro!"

"Oh it's on, bro!"

"Yeah, bro!"

"Good heavens," Yaomomo murmurs. "Once those two get started, there's no stopping them."

Ochako breathes out a laugh when she hears her phone buzz. She taps the screen and finds Deku-kun's response with Bakugou's address. At her side, she notices Basil shift closer. She turns to look at him but his gaze is firmly on his drink. Again, something twists in her gut.

"-ko-chan!"

Wincing, Ochako whips around to face Tsu-chan. "Whoops, sorry! Did you say my name?"

Tsu-chan nods. "Did you hear back from Deku-kun?"

"Oh, um, yeah! I got the address right here…" The knot in her guts tighten. "But, you know, maybe Bakugou will reply soon. We haven't ordered any food yet. So why don't we eat first and then make our way to his house? I mean, dropping by without letting them know - that's a little rude, right?"

The words rush out of her with all the urgency of a flood. She can't explain the goosebumps dotting her skin, or the way sparks seem to dance down her spine, like she's in combat or taking a practical exam. But she's not. She's sitting at a cafe, surrounded by her friends. They're all her friends, right? Her eyes shift to the left, where Basil sits next to her.

"That… seems like a fine idea," Yaomomo agrees. "It would be unseemly to…"

"Exactly!" Ochako barely restrains herself from yelling. Honestly, Yaomomo is an angel.

"Mmhmm, and that way, we can walk Basil-kun to Bakugou-kun's place," Tsu-chan adds. Bless her. "He's new in town, so he might get lost if we only give him the address."

"I offer gratitude for your generosity." Basil nods with a serene smile, getting to his feet. "Indeed, I wish not to impede our feasting. Please excuse me as I must visit the lavatory. Kindly request delicious fare on my behalf. This will take but a brief moment."

He slides by Ochako and in that second, she notices a hard shape behind his jacket. Nowadays, with quirks so common, hardly anyone carries weaponry of any sort. But as Basil leaves, she could swear on her great-grandmama's grave that he was hiding a gun in his jacket.

But surely not, right? That's ridiculous! Guns are highly regulated in Japan, even if most people don't use firearms anymore. There's no way a visiting foreigner could come into the country with a gun on hand… No legal way at least…

"Ochako?" Mina grabs her shoulder and shakes her gently. "Hey, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"No… No… I'm just - I was seeing - My eyes were playing tricks on me."

"Wait," Jiro holds up a hand. "Did you actually see a ghost?"

"What? No!" Ochako shakes her head, pasting on a smile. "I'm fine! It's fine! Let's just get our orders going, yeah?"

The girls exchange concerned looks. Ochako ignores them, focusing on the menu. It must have been something else - some other L-shaped thing. She's jumping to drastic conclusions. It could have been a square ruler or some kind of hardware tool or hell, it could have been a boomerang! She doesn't know! She's going crazy!

The waitress stops by. She orders on autopilot - fries or whatever. The girls continue to talk, hushed now, clearly concerned about her. She offers single syllable responses, nodding once in awhile. But everyone can tell that she's not really paying attention, and she should. They're her friends! She wants to have a good time with them! But her eyes spot a wall clock on the cafe wall. And she can't stop watching the minutes tick on by and tick on by.

The food comes. Basil doesn't. They begin to eat. Ochako can see everyone is now equally on edge. They take small bites. They chew slowly with great care. Basil's seat remains empty. Ochako feels the familiar sensation of nausea, as if she tried to lift something far too heavy, far too big, far too much. She stands up.

"I'm gonna ask someone to check on Basil-san. I'll be right back."

She doesn't wait for a response. She runs to the counter, nearly tripping over her feet. She finds someone on the staff and asks if they can check the men's restroom.

"You see - um - that is, I have a friend - he's… you know… new in the country. And I'm worried that he… doesn't know the way… toilets work?" Wow. That sounds beyond stupid but she can't think of anything else to say.

The poor, confused cashier wrinkles her forehead, tilting her head to the side. "Ma'am, our restroom has been out of order since yesterday."

In a single, brutal second, Ochako knows - maybe not fully, maybe not truly - but she knows the same way she knows that gravity pulls everything down and down and down. Something terrible has begun.

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #bnha #mha #my hero academia

[dballzposting]

What if you were Trunks and you were like 17 and you were staying up too late to do your homework and you're at a kitchen table because if you go to your room you're afraid that you'll just start playing video games again & Yamucha is visiting right now and hes staying in a guest bedroom somewhere & you dont really care & last time he spent a few days here you caught him in the morning (11 am) once standing around in his underwear going through the cupboards like "You guys got any cornflakes?" & then when he found the cornflakes he had sat down and ate three bowls in a row & so to not be impolite you had sat down too and let him tell you stories & the spoon just looked so tiny in his giant hairy man hands & he was defintiely bigger than your dad though not as muscular & it just sort of felt like he was towering over the bowl though by temperament he is a swell guy & afterwards you had looked at your own hands and wondered if they'll ever get that big and masculine and hairy. And you're prepared for this to happen again but since youre staying up late you'll probably sleep late so maybe you'll avoid him in the morning.

And it's pretty late and you're mother is off to bed soon but she sits with you for a moment to make sure that you're doing homework and then sighs and mutters "I guess this'll be a late night for Vegeta." Becasue it was common for Vegeta to disappear for odd hours without telling anyone where he was going. And to your mother who cant sense ki, he could be a planet away, even if hes just in a far room of capsule corp.

And it really is common for Vegeta to go somewhere random and stare at the ocean or whagever, but it was also common for him to just be offscreen but Around, so to help your mother out, you take a jab at sensing his ki. And this time, he really is just in the building.

"You might see him yet tonight," you say. "He's just in the next wing over."

Your mother takes start, and she asks, "what, dont tell me hes socializing with Yamucha."

You check again, and oh yeah, that must be the guest bedroom where Yamucha is staying, and yep, they're both over there.

"Oh," you say, realizing how odd that is. "I'm surprised myself."

"Well this I have to see."

Your mother leaves and you return to your homework, disinterested and unbothered.

A while later, you think you hear someone yelling, but it's too far away for you to be sure.

A bit after that, rapid footsteps approach, and you turn to see none other than Yamucha speeding past the doorway. Then he stops and backtracks and reappears and waves at you.

"Hey buddy!" He says, and hes shirtless, and is wearing yellow pants, and his hair is tied back messily, and he looks very much like hes been slapped the shit out of, and he is carrying the top half of his yellow suit in one elbow, and his traveling briefcase in the other hand. "Nice seeing you today, but I gotta jet. Stay in school! And, maybe try to put a good word in for me with your mom. You know, stress that I've been a good friend for years, and that I really am sorry, and maybe dont tell her where I am if she tries to hunt me down? Okay, bye!" and then hes gone.

You go to bed that night like normal, and the next day your father is absent from the breakfast table, and you ask your mother why that is, and she says that she sent him to eat alone outside, and you ask her what he did, and she says "Why dont YOU ask HIM what he DID," which usually means that Bulma and Vegeta have differing opinions on what "he did," and she thinks that his version is stupid.

To spare yourself the long ire-filled rant that your mother's answer would be, you go outside and ask your father what he did.

"I had gay sex with Yamucha," he says.

#dballz posting #YamgetaYaoi

[neostriatum]

Shadows of a Nightingale

[Dreamwidth]

-

It was meant to be a normal, vaguely boring trading mission for resupplying things like flour and finding out more about Ancient technology littered around their new home. He thought by now they'd have learned that "peacefully rural" in the Pegasus galaxy actually meant "Genii involvement, back away slowly and with lots of C4," but apparently not.

-

Elizabeth frowned at him worriedly, an arm's reach away as Radim and the random soldier he had scrounged up did their best Cinderella impression to turn him into a villain. They're going to turn me into Swiss cheese, he thought unhappily, Why am I doing this, again?

"And you can be sure they won't recognize him?" Elizabeth asked Radim, "A uniform is enough?"

For a brief, deeply visceral moment, he debates bricking the Genii gate with a computer virus. Only temporary, of course - a time-out, if one would borrow an oversimplified phrase. But he looked at Elizabeth, and how she was crossing her arms to prevent herself from reaching out, and reminds himself that if they could take the simple route, then his team would have already made their way home with scientists in tow. He glances at the Genii soldiers arrayed around them that had Radim's personal reassurance wouldn't shoot him in the back as soon as he stepped through the gate, and the Atlantis soldiers keeping a closer eye on Elizabeth than himself. Sighing, he reminded himself that they had already deployed a team of their own behind Radim's back with some requisitioned Genii uniforms at a midway planet to buffer Atlantis from unexpected guests. There wouldn't be a signal, of course, not this deeply entrenched in unambiguously enemy territory, but if they missed check-in, that would suffice for communication. Someone handed him a pistol, and he ignored Elizabeth's instinctive swerve away from it, checking the weapon and slotting it into the holster at his hip with a motion that was only smooth from the amount of practice he had. Radim looked impressed, and he graciously refrained from making a face at the man. It wasn't Kolya, but he would take this shove-in of a political upstart over someone who had no such qualms about being decent.

"Elizabeth," He said, frowning at her, "It'll be fine." "Don't go sounding like John, now," Elizabeth chided, falling back on humor, knocked back on her pedestal by his irreverence, "I still want those reports in from your people." "As soon as I fire them," He muttered, wishing he hadn't lent them to Sheppard for protection. The colonel was great at what he did, but his survival instinct left something to be desired. And around other people who had barely stepped through a gate before in their lives? He should have anticipated the amount of trouble that would happen, "They're going to wish they had quit." "Well, go easy on them," She said, smiling. At the pointed non-shuffling from the Atlantis soldiers, she shrugged, "Well. Not too easy."

He nodded curtly at her, knowing Elizabeth would take the opportunity to prevent the inevitable if he played along. Striding toward the DHD, he found himself wishing he could appear in the off-world uniform he had become accustomed to, missing the reassuring weight of a P-90 in his hands. Hell, even an epi-pen would have been security enough, but they couldn't afford him being frisked and anyone finding a conspicuous reason to follow through on their hostage threats. I hate politics, he thought, hoping it was loud enough for everyone to pick up on.

-

His team made a move to call for his attention when they notice McKay’s presence in the half-second it takes them to recognize that the Genii they were hissing at was their team mate in a Genii uniform. It's so at odds with how he's usually dressed that they're taken aback, McKay’s military-straight posture and casual, dismissive glance at them shuttering any words they could think to say.

The scientists were elsewhere, probably being put to work, and John's stomach sours when he realizes McKay's making no move to try and free them. It compounds, a dense knot of foreboding in his stomach, when McKay merely sits at the table parked in front of their cells in a relaxed lean that pings something unpleasant in his brain. It's been three days, and if they had received any hails from Atlantis, they would never have known, their gear stripped from them with an efficiency that boded poorly as they were marched underground.

Intellectually, he knew it was a negotiation. He remembered his father's parties, the way gossip over canapés arranged business deals in the millions, how smoothly he understood officer's parties and briefings moving along the same dance and tune. Being the commodity traded, however, looking from the outside in… it gave him a better insight into the scowls and glares whenever he came back home from deployments. There was nobody to look at other than Rodney and their hosts, and it felt almost like a one-way mirror, all attention fixed on the main attraction.

Someone - a lackey, given their nondescript appearance and economic motions - set a tray of drinks and plates of food down between their captor and McKay. Ordinarily this would be cause to carefully inspect all offerings of food, but somehow today the stars were misaligned and McKay merely knocked back what must have been alcohol and swiped a piece of finger food from the plate in front of him without batting an eye. It made his stomach cramp in dread, stealing his breath as he waited for some sign of allergy on McKay's face.

Several moments passed without incident, and whatever gamble it was seemed to pass muster, McKay merely raising an expectant eyebrow at their captors. It was so clearly a well, get on with it expression, devoid only of the wave of hand that usually accompanied it when McKay was in the labs, that he wanted to slump against the poorly-maintained brick wall in relief. No matter what strange shit was going on right now, it was still McKay in front of them. How much of McKay was there, he wasn't sure, but he would take his opportunities where he could get them.

He didn't think Teyla or Ronon had any idea what was actually going on, either, but McKay had somehow found a usable poker face that had their captor sighing and taking a seat across from him. The sight kept his heart in his throat, though, all careful capitulation highlighted by the weary way their captor sat down in his chair, as if he had a long day. It almost made him want to laugh in derision, but McKay's unimpressed face was an immutable veneer that set the tone for… whatever this conversation was going to be.

McKay speaking first was expected, but the opposite occurred, the man merely laid in his chair as if it were another Tuesday at the bar while their captor leaned forward and braced his arms against the edge of the table. "I was told there would be a higher ranked individual coming here, mister…?" The bait was obvious, as was the play at polite bemusement. It was something McKay might fall for, if he let himself, but he only stared impassively for a beat before reaching for the corked pitcher of liquor. Its cap came off with a quiet squeak of a pop from its ceramic trapping, and instead of pouring another round for himself, McKay merely stared at the man across from him before topping off the other's untouched cup. He had left the bottle uncorked, and the contents were strong enough that he could begin to smells the fumes from where he was sitting.

It certainly set a tone, and the placid facade on McKay's face came across as foreboding. The situation reminded him, aberrantly, of roulette; he clenched his hands before his mind could supply the necessary swap in gambling items. The entirety of his thought process went ostensibly unnoticed, McKay continuing to only pay mind to their captor, who himself seemed to crumple under the lack of bait. Such an emotional upheaval would have impressed him with its skill in a more sane situation. "I'm here upon the personal request of Ladon," McKay said, gesturing to their captor's now nearly-overflowing cup. It seemed an unvoiced order, and the man picked his drink up with the barest tremble of his fingers. Then, and only then, McKay cut a lingering glance across their cells, "Unless you have a better offer." His heart stuck in his throat. Certainly McKay couldn't be suggesting…? Kolya was- Kolya was gone, like dust in the wind, and if McKay somehow knew where the bastard was-

No. No, he had to stop those thoughts right there. But the implication seemed well-formatted for their captor, because the man perked up, and he held back a grimace at the noticeable sparkle in the man's eye. Money made even the Pegasus galaxy go around, for the right price. It was a shame they couldn't solve their Wraith problem with a little greasing of hands. "Of course. Well, if you have come on personal recommendation?" The man tossed back his own drink, noticeably not as smoothly as McKay, and set the cup down to pat his hands on the table, "It has been difficult to find a good price for our goods. Times have been hard, you see."

The eyebrow McKay raised this time spoke the plain interpretation of Do I?, and it made their captor falter, hands briefly clutching at the tabletop. "… Yes," The man coughed, "We have a high starting price, naturally." McKay picked up another canapé from his plate, observing it for a moment before taking a thoughtful bite. The silence in the room sucked out any preconceptions, and everyone seemed to wait for McKay to finish the morsel, "You have yet to impress me." Their captor paled, probably from how similar to Kolya McKay sounded. He couldn't hear Ronon, who would have most certainly been snarling something by now, and Teyla was likewise as silent. It made him worry, and worry more that he wasn't sure who it was most for. With how Rodney was staring down their captor wearing a Genii uniform like this was a perfectly normal day, he began to wonder if he ought to feel a little sorry for himself, first.

"A price, Yelim?" McKay asked. His voice was honey-smooth, as if amused and playing with the idea of losing his patience. It made the other man - Yelim, apparently, and how McKay was able to draw that information out when the three of them couldn't, he had no idea - straighten up in his chair. McKay smiled, "Don't make me wait." He found himself swallowing right along with Yelim, trying not to shift in place. It wasn't fun being literally chained in place, even if these would-have-been allies had correctly deduced they'd find their way out, otherwise. Yelim bobbed his head, "Our caches need re-filling. We will be able to provide the necessary trade, as usual." McKay cocked a brow, "It seems we would be getting the better deal. What's in it for you?"

Favors, he thinks, blindsided. What straits were the people on this planet on, if they felt the need to kidnap people from Atlantis and double-cross not only them but the official leader of the Genii? He bites his lip, furrowing his brows - he's probably about to find out. Yelim shifted in his seat, only stopping when McKay's gaze sharpened on him, "Well, we have heard rumors of the Wraith passing by this area more frequently. We do not know if they are desperate, or…" McKay looked unamused, "Or?" "Or- or looking for something." Yelim's eyes slid over to his and the other's cells, and the 'or someone' was clearly inferred.

Tapping the table with a finger, McKay picked up his cup and took a sip. It was only the barest amount, the liquor making a wet shine on his lips before it was licked away. The gesture was rough, the only bit of him that wasn't polished, and Yelim leaned forward, hand reaching to the container. "Would you like some more?" Yelim asked, tone attempting to be sweeter than its groveling suggested. Leaning forward himself, McKay said lowly, "I would like an answer, Yelim. Before I decide for you." Yelim gulped. "A- a forward payment, then, if you will," Yelim stuttered, waving a hand in a sweeping gesture toward the cells, "Take one of them, whichever you want." "Hm." McKay leaned back in his chair, "And then?"

"'And then'?" Yelim asked, nervous. His arm was still in the air, but it slowly sank back down to the table, hand closing into a loose fist. "And when I find your offer inevitably sub-standard, what shall I do, then?" McKay asked, frowning. He looked for all the world a patient, faintly disapproving teacher, "What leverage do you think you'll be holding over me? All I'll need to do is pick Sheppard over there, the rest will be useless to… him." There again was Kolya's presence wafting into the room, a chill down his spine. How McKay was playing it so cool, he had no idea, his own arm aching from the memory of McKay's injury from the siege that sometimes seemed like only yesterday. Yelim seemed equally off-footed, gulping. "I- I-"

"You don't know," McKay completed flatly, standing from his chair abruptly. The screeching sound of the wood moving back on stone made him and Yelim alike grimace, "I'll be taking all of them. Save you the effort of thinking about it." Yelim was nodding, looking both relieved and constipated about it. From where he was half-lying on the floor, McKay towered over Yelim, posture as ram-rod straight as he had entered with, chin tipped down with disgust. "Unlock the cells," McKay commanded, "And chain them together. Any foolish escapes on their part will be yours to deal with."

The role reversal was stunning, and Yelim looked faint with encroaching terror as he opened each cell and unlocked their chains from the wall. Ronon was put at the end, incidentally hobbling Teyla, and his considering, dark look leveled at McKay was stonewalled by passive disinterest in the proceedings. It wasn't a look McKay wore often, and it obviously unsettled all of them to see, quieting them as Yelim chained them together. McKay being handed the lead seemed to finalize the arrangement, and he watched as McKay spared a light, courteous smile to Yelim, "You'll be conducting your other trade as usual." "Y-yessir," Yelim nearly saluted, or whatever passed for such a gesture in this galaxy, lingering behind in the jail while McKay marched them ahead in silence.

-

Seeing daylight again was blinding, which put paid how much time he had estimated passed in the makeshift dungeon. He couldn't even raise his hands to block out the glare, McKay's hand on the leading bit of chain forcing his arms down as grimaced and blinked rapidly. Whatever the reason, McKay hadn't arrived at this planet alone - it was still the same planet, something he found himself faintly grateful for in this bizarre situation. The guards were unrecognizable, as blank-faced as McKay himself, who hopped-to with a gesture from McKay's free hand and escorted them to the gate. It was a mostly silent affair, up until Ronon growled. Me, too, buddy, he thought, hearing the aggravated tone in the sound. As much as he was still gambling that this was all some hilarious - or would be hilarious - misunderstanding, perhaps with some off-world variant of a gotcha, the hopes he was holding on tightly out of habit stumbled as he did when McKay twisted the chain.

"Do I need to remind you the consequences of disobeying me?" McKay said sharply. It wasn't even the tone McKay used in the labs, astringent to the point of stripping other's egos off. Just one hell of a verbal whetting, whittling down any presumptions. He already knew Ronon was glaring at McKay, and he struggled to straighten as best he could from how McKay had the chain wrapped tightly around his own fist, reminding him of the way the horse trainer on his father's property would quell rebellious foals as they were lead-trained. He swallowed, tilting his head to the side just enough to signal to Ronon to knock it off. Teyla, between them, had the watchful air about her that was probably dangerous in other situations - not here, though, not now. McKay was the one literally holding the reins on this one, waiting for Ronon to make his decision. What the hell is today, he thinks, appreciative of breaking out of that cell despite the deeply unusual manner, but unsure if they're walking into yet another situation. If McKay was somehow a turn-coat… No, he couldn't assume that. Not over until it's over.

Ronon, thankfully, decided not to pursue his anger. They nevertheless had to wait another moment as McKay stared Ronon down with a flinty gaze before tugging him and the rest of the team along. He watched McKay, straight-backed and in an enemy's clothing, leading them through the gate. Somehow he didn't get the feeling Atlantis would be on the other side.

-

He hated being right. This wasn't a planet he recognized, and by Teyla's quick inhale, neither did she. Fuck. If it weren't for their hands all being bound, or McKay's now unsurprisingly strong grip on the chain, he would be torn between scrubbing a hand over his face and attempting to strangle McKay, instead of wondering what shithole they just stepped into. Betrayal was looking more likely, and he felt the pit in his stomach grow as McKay gestured to his guards to scout the area out. They had nodded curtly, one man stationing himself by the DHD, blowing any hopes out of the water of an uncomplicated escape.

McKay was ignoring them, inasmuch as one could while actively keeping a hold of a direct link to captives. He was opening one of the breast pockets on his jacket, pulling out a slim device with a screen on it. Whatever it was, it looked heavily like an LSD, which he watched McKay operate one-handed with a scrutinizing look on his face. He wet his lips, wondering if he ought to break the taboo and risk speaking, when McKay slid his gaze toward him without actually moving his head. The effect was cutting, and he bit back whatever he was still in the middle of planning to say, clenching his hands on the chain connecting him to McKay. "Don't," McKay said dismissively, still looking at the device in his hands. Whatever was on the screen was obscured by the angle and reflection of the sun on it. Faintly, he wanted to damn the fact that they knew each other well enough to have a conversation that was only half verbal. It made for a hell of an enemy, especially one as smart and resourceful as Rodney. Someone he had encouraged to be resourceful.

Of all the friends he had betraying him, this one bit the deepest. He exhaled roughly, bracing himself for whatever was going to happen now. At the very least, he had his team to get home. Whatever it was McKay had done, he knew at least some of the man's way of thinking - it would hurt, to take him out, but he'd do it. Just as he was slotting ideas into place, throwing some out that didn't fit with what he knew of McKay, some of the Genii came back from their scouting. What was shocking was that Kolya wasn't with them, or any new people. McKay was smirking wryly, though, tilting his chin up in greeting to the other men. "Clear," One of the men said, which was disturbing for its clear recognition of the next phase of a plan - orchestrated by McKay? - and confounding by the fact that all of them seemed to come to a stand-still.

"Good," McKay answered, and then looked up, squinting into the sunshine. It was a different time of day on this planet, his brain giving him vertigo over it. If part of the plan was to give them gate lag, well - it wasn't the worst thing to pile on them, even if he was uncertain what else was in store for them. McKay seemed satisfied with whatever he was looking for - the Genii didn't have planes, as far as he knew, and no Wraith were flying over head - and turned toward them. "Hands out, Sheppard," McKay ordered, still having that wry look on his face. Of course, it would be ironic, given that it was frequently the exact phrase McKay used before he used him as a lightswitch for yet another Ancient doodad.

He snarled silently as he did so. McKay didn't do more than make sure the chains were at proper tension, forcing him to stand still lest Teyla and Ronon be lurched forward with him. The strain put him in a bad mood as he watched McKay wave the device over his arms, shoulders tight as he felt it waved over his neck. McKay looked at the device, observing whatever the read-out must be. And what was he looking for, exactly? They had all been conscious for- well, enough of the time to be sure nothing was done to them outside of being dragged to a repurposed root cellar and chained up until McKay found them. But whatever it was seemed to appease him, because McKay nodded to the other Genii around them. "Teyla," McKay said, waving his device to gesture where he wanted her to go, "If you would."

"Rodney-" She said, obviously trying to seize an opportunity as she walked to stand beside him, the chain between them rattling and hitting his thigh. McKay held up a finger warningly, "Ah. No. Hold out your hands." He watched Teyla purse her lips, looking cross and upset. Still, she did as McKay bade her, and he repeated the process. By this time, the routine was observable, and Ronon slunk silently beside Teyla with an interrogative glare on his face. Whether it was because McKay knew better or because he was indifferent to it, he merely repeated the same scan on Ronon. There was little chance of them overthrowing the situation, not with how McKay still had the lead firmly winched tight around his hands and just enough people around them that their odds weren't favorable. He could only watch as McKay went through the results of whatever this last scan was, once again looking pleased.

They were shuffled back into a line instead of side by side, and he spared a moment to mourn the loss of friendly human contact as McKay gestured to the man at the DHD, "Dial it." How many planets was McKay going to drag them through?

-

Ladon Radim greeted them on the other side, sitting on a stump and keeping a finger on the firearm he had aimed at them as they stepped through the gate. Slowly, the détente lowered between Radim and McKay - he found himself faintly surprised they made it to the Genii at all, and not delivered straight into Kolya's hands. The shock of it seemed to quiet whatever words he could feel were brewing at his back by Teyla and Ronon, a counterpoint for the way his wrists ached at the sustained posture. He raised an eyebrow at Radim's curious look, feeling a foul mood encroach further at the way the other man hummed thoughtfully and turned to McKay. "I admit," Radim said lightly, "I hadn't expected you to succeed." McKay didn't bequeath the goading statement with an answer, merely gesturing to the same man that had dialed them here, "Dial out."

Was this a horse and pony show? He frowned at McKay's back, wondering what the game was, here. But McKay said nothing to them, nor even turned to look at them as they were shuffled out of the way of the wormhole. The assessing stares of the Genii around him made the hair on the back of his neck prickle, but he figured McKay was the ringmaster of this little deception - if Radim wasn't stopping them, what was to say they weren't going to Kolya, anyway? Just as the wormhole stabilized, McKay led them to it, drawing him up so that they stood - disregarding the chains that more than symbolized a hierarchy - as equals. He watched McKay watch him, wishing that for once there was some sort of genuine expression on the man's face. Or was this the default? He wasn't sure any more. McKay tilted an inscrutable look at him, edged in an unexpected softness despite the forbidding blankness, "Colonel." He wanted to say something back, but the tension of the lead chain was abruptly released in time for him to be shoved through the wormhole. It was only by the slackening of the chain binding him to Teyla that he could sense he was followed.

-

This time the sunlight he was blinking back was the setting sun through Atlantis' windows, as familiar to him as his own breath. He was still blinking, finally bringing his hands up to his face to block out the light and disregarding the way the chain smacked against his legs and hitting all the bruises he had sustained when they were captured, when he could hear someone calling his name. "John?" Elizabeth called out, much closer than he had expected. She was reaching out to him, lowering his hands from his face and looking at him searchingly, "John, where's Rodney?" "McKay-" Ronon spat, as Teyla tried to intervene, "He was-"

"Right here," McKay himself said, the ripple of the wormhole failing to obscure the sound of his boot heels clicking on the floor. He whipped around, barely avoiding the chains hitting Elizabeth as he turned to face McKay, who was still in Genii uniform and standing stiffly at attention in a way that would make his old drill sergeant proud, "As ordered." "Rodney, you don't need to-" Elizabeth started, falling silent at the look McKay threw her, bitter and angry. "Don't," He said flatly, not the same dismissive as he was toward him two planets ago, but it had the same effect of rendering Elizabeth speechless, her hands falling from where they had reached for his own moments earlier. McKay frowned deeply, disapproving, "You will never do that again." Elizabeth nodded faintly. In the resulting silence of the words, McKay marched out of the gate room, ignoring Lorne, the various soldiers, and some anxious scientists lingering around as he exited in the direction of the ready room. He could have heard a pin drop after the distant swoosh of the automatic door. Turning toward Elizabeth, he said, "What the fuck is going on?"

-

It turned out to have been a plan so asinine that it had a higher than possible probability of working. If only by sheer bizarre circumstance. Elizabeth had to reassure him several times that McKay had not, in face, defected to the Genii, or even to Kolya, but had rather been coerced into playacting as one in order to take advantage of the situation that Kolya had wanted Sheppard. And the rest of AR-1. As she explained it, none of the trick would have worked if McKay had gone with them for that trip, because then Yelim would have known that he was from Atlantis, as well. "Ladon has… assured me," Elizabeth said, looking down at her twiddling thumbs, picking her words carefully, "That all of our scientists that had been on detail with you have been safely delivered from that planet. Yelim will also be delivering to him the agreed-upon amount of flour and vegetables in three day's time. We'll be getting a cut of it as payment."

"For what?" He asked dourly, crossing his arms. Bafflingly, Elizabeth shrugged, "I don't know, honestly. Only that Rodney had negotiated it." He muttered around his frown, "So that's why he shoved me." "What?" Elizabeth tilted her head at him, and he shook his head to dismiss the question. Gathering herself, she continued to relay the events that led to him, Teyla, and Ronon in the conference room.

McKay wasn't here, ostensibly working on communication relay units to boost their radio and intranet signals. They hadn't seen him at all, and nobody was telling where in the bowels of the city he was hiding, and Elizabeth continued, "Radim was only able to find information on Kolya's intentions at the last moment, and we needed someone who knew gate technology and could believably bluff your captors into thinking they were working for Kolya."

"Why not Zelenka?" Ronon asked, leaning back in his chair. It squeaked alarmingly at the angle he tilted it at, ignoring how he and Elizabeth frantically gestured for him to not lean back so far. He merely kept up his implacable stare, which was aided by the way Teyla was throwing in her two cents of a look. Elizabeth sighed, "We debated it, believe it or not. But Rodney volunteered, rather vehemently." He snorted, able to believe that McKay would argue his point, but not able to believe him capable of lying so well to fool not only their captors, but them, as well, "Zelenka's at least been in the military. No offense to McKay, but he doesn't have that kind of bearing."

Which flew blatantly in the face of the act McKay had pulled to get them out of there, and Elizabeth's tilted brow told them as much, "He insisted," She said, tone closing that particular avenue of discontent, "His argument was quite strong. None of us, outside of all of you, know Kolya quite as well." And Elizabeth would never be allowed to risk herself like that to go off-world. He sighed, acknowledging the point. They all watched her stare in the middle distance for a bit, gathering her thoughts, before she sighed, "Rodney was correct. With the bounty on your head, John, and consequently the rest of your team, he was our best shot at bluffing everyone. It seemed he did well enough to convince even you, and you work closely with him nearly every day."

"But still a question remains," Teyla said, resting her hands delicately on the table. It was a gesture he recognized from off-world, when she was deciding the best body language to look open and accommodating while still retaining her status as a visiting negotiator. That she felt the need to do it here stung, Elizabeth mirroring his thoughts with her own frown as she leaned back, "How did Rodney learn how to mask himself so well? It is not in his nature." That was a million dollar question. He turned his attention back to Elizabeth, who, it seemed, could only shrug at them sadly, "You'll need to ask him, I'm afraid. He refused to tell any of us."

-

In the end, they all just decided to ambush McKay. Four days had passed at that point, and their erstwhile team mate had been sneakier than they had given him credit for, probably surviving off stashed food and odd corners to sleep in. Zelenka was still tight-lipped, looking vaguely pissed off in a way that promised their answers would be sparse, but there were no actual complaints from his quarter and only a vague hint to go off of. It said something that McKay hadn't expected it on the way to his own room at the ass-crack of dawn, still early enough that the sun hadn't even begun to start rising. He looked like shit, bags under his eyes and the swaying walk of someone too exhausted to pay attention to their surroundings. Feeling only a little bit like an asshole, he cornered McKay to a wall, flanked by Ronon and Teyla. For McKay's part, it took him a couple of moments after jolting in shock to recognize what was going on, "Seriously?"

"Talk, McKay," Ronon growled, and wow, the big guy must have been holding that in for a while, based on the way he loomed. McKay didn't do more than huff and roll his eyes. "No," McKay retorted, similar enough in tone that he had to repress a flinch, the other man's face briefly flashing in guilty abashment before smoothing out into exhaustion, "I've been trying to make sure our equipment can still talk to each other after the last brown-out, and I am going to bed. You can interrogate me in the morning." Teyla was the first to leave off, stepping back as McKay put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. Ronon only did so reluctantly, and they all watched McKay promptly ignore him to escape into his room. Staring at the door, he debated whether or not it was worth breaching the thin line of privacy in order to secure some answers. His team mates decided for him, sitting down on either side of the door as one. He sighed, sliding down the wall opposite of the door, muttering, "Wake me up when he gets out."

-

"Oh my god, you have got to be kidding me," He heard McKay say, somehow sounding far above him. Blinking himself awake, he realized he had slumped to the ground while he had been waiting, one arm automatically cushioning his head from the ground. Exasperated, McKay swatted his shin with a foot, "At least get up and get some coffee, you idiot." McKay left as swiftly as he appeared, muttering to himself as he went back into his room. That seemed to be tacit invitation for them to file into the room, and he scrubbed at his hair, hoping it wasn't flattened on one side. Though he wasn't there very often, McKay's room was somehow still a surprising clutter of work and living space all mixed together. Teyla lingered with him as McKay grumbled to himself and fished a couple of mess hall cups out of a box, heading into the bathroom to fill them with water. He watched as Ronon flung himself on top of the bed insouciantly, glaring at McKay when he was filling up the coffee maker perched on an improvised end table as if daring him to argue.

Rolling his eyes, McKay only bothered to flap a hand at Ronon, digging out a tin of what ended up being coffee ground and measuring them meticulously into the machine. "I don't have any sugar," McKay said, "Because god knows there would somehow be gargantuan, poisonous ants or something if anything spilled, but if you're really keen then you can go to the mess for that." He shrugged, leaning against the dresser and hoping his back wasn't going to crack audibly from sleeping on the floor. The slope made his hip ache, but it was worth it to weather the dirty look McKay gave him for leaning an elbow against some motherboards heaped atop the furniture.

"Do you really have to- whatever," McKay waved an arm generously at him, "Get your questions over with, I do actually have to get some breakfast at some point." They looked at each other, McKay bitchy and expectant, and he looked at Teyla. She popped her eyebrows up at him, acknowledging how he was foisting the conversation off on her and promising retribution during training later today. He shrugged back, letting her take the lead. Sighing delicately, Teyla raised her hands placatingly, "Your manner of… freeing us, while creative and appreciated, leaves us to speculate as to the manner." McKay cocked a brow, "Wow. Now I really know what it's like to be on the other side," He commented, over the gurgle of the coffee maker behind him, "You want to know why I wasn't a hot mess like I usually am, right?"

And it wasn't a question, but Teyla treated it like one, nodding with a dignified gravity that smoothed over several of the questions he could feel her wanting to ask. McKay sighed, shrugging, "Not much to it. We had confirmation that Yelim wanted to sell you guys out to Kolya, dead or alive, and Radim wasn't sure who he could trust to extract you without participating in the sale." "Sale," He said, sourly. It occurred to him, again, how closely they avoided a worse fate, even if his mind had been turning over a thousand possibilities of how the situation was already dogshit. "Sale," McKay repeated in weary acknowledgment, shoulders drooping, "Yeah. If Kolya had gotten you, all of you would have died. That's the only thing we knew for sure."

Teyla glanced at him worriedly, smoothly resuming her end of the conversation, "We are sure that the pressure to rescue us must have been intense." "Oh, definitely," McKay agreed, turning to the coffee maker as it steamed to a finish. The pot didn't look like it held enough, but he knew from previous experience that McKay brewed it strong enough to build with as a default. The Daedalus resupplying them had been a godsend for McKay hoarding as much caffeine as possible. He accepted the piping hot cup handed to him, letting it warm his hands as he waited McKay out. It didn't take long, and he watched McKay visibly review his memories the same way Elizabeth had done, "Sheppard, you remember how I said I got a visit in sixth grade?"

"… Yeah?" McKay smiled humorlessly, "It wasn't the only one." He froze, grip tightening on his cup at the last minute, "You mean-" "That I became well-acquainted with the vagaries of Americanism?" McKay replied, "Yes, I did." Teyla and Ronon were wearing similar frowns of confusion, knowing something was up but not the particulars. For now, he ignored the urge to explain things to them, keeping his attention on McKay, "And that's where you learned that." McKay shrugged in an illuminating manner. He frowned, straightening up off the dresser, "And Elizabeth used that." "I allowed Elizabeth to use that," McKay corrected, crossing his arms, "She didn't know, either." "Would she?" He asked. McKay sighed, "No. Not if this hadn't happened." Teyla was watching them like a tennis match, "John…"

He shook his head, biting his lip. Of all the conversations to expect, he hadn't predicted this one, "And this isn't on your record?" "No, apparently not," McKay said wryly, "SGC must not have carried the notes over." Jesus. He did scrub a hand over his face at that, wondering how he got himself in these kinds of situations, "Anything else I need to know about?" McKay got that same frustratingly opaque look as he did on that planet, glancing away from him with lips pressed so tightly together he was surprised there was still color in his face, "I'm not doing that again. I didn't like it." And that was the most McKay-like personality he hadn't seen in half a week. It was promising, and he crooked a smile at McKay, "I won't let it happen again."

That promise seemed to be enough for him, because McKay seemed to slump in relief, "Just don't get captured again, alright? The Genii have no idea how to brush wool out." He laughed, "What can I say, McKay. They're not very good at what they do." McKay grinned at him, slotting back into his team as if he had never left it. He made a mental note to talk to Elizabeth about this, but let McKay herd them all to the mess, complaining about how hungry he was.

-

Author's Notes

In typical canon style, Rodney drops a throwaway line about his past and there’s approximately zero follow-up to it in any episode in order to further develop his character. This follows on the idea introduced in “Underground” (episode 1x08), and goes through most of the Genii plot line, but takes place in some unspecified time between “Coup D’Etat” (episode 2x17) and “Irresponsible” (episode 3x13).

Title taken from the idea of shadow puppetry (Wikipedia) and nightingale flooring (Wikipedia). For some additional background notes, Radek is mentioned to have military experience because by virtue of his age and being from the Czech Republic, he would have been expected to at least attend training. Presumably Radek knows how to do things like stand in a line and handle a firearm, but as this is a Rodney-centric fic, Rodney would have been going regardless of whether Radek would be (doubtfully) able to handle the pressure of the situation.

Because of the sometimes inconsistent writing – especially so with Rodney – I doubt this would have ever been considered a canon-type event, particularly because he’s been designated by the plot as either the scientist trope or the comic relief trope. Still, I feel like it would have been a good opportunity to round out his character and add some reinforcement to his myriad weaknesses as a person by throwing him into a situation like this.

A special thanks to @avocado-moon (AO3) for the feedback!

#stargate atlantis #rodney mckay #john sheppard #elizabeth weir #ar-1 #my story

[kerie-prince]

daisy cafe

Harry Potter x Muggle!reader

not a request

warnings: mentions of death, ptsd?? (in the form of nightmares)

summary: Harry starts his healing journey after the Battle, and a rainy night after a counseling session brought him into your café

a/n: hope y'all like this random imagine i wrote <3 i was meant to post it last night but i got into a heated debate about ww84 and i don't queue posts so here's this. no lie, i had a hard time writing this lol it's a whole 4k long imagine (whoops) also, when i say 'football' in this fic, i mean soccer lol

(gif cred)

The Battle of Hogwarts.

There was a lot to say about that day. So many perspectives and interpretations from different people. And today, Harry would talk to his counselor about his. At first, he opposed the idea of having a counselor but Hermione insisted that he talks to a professional. Well, insisted probably isn't the word. If anything, Hermione probably forced him into it and made the appointment herself.

So here he sat in the waiting room, sitting awkwardly in an uncomfortable chair. Even the chairs in the Hogwarts classrooms were more comfortable than these. The room was small and had tacky sunflower wallpaper. Harry sat by himself and internally cursed his best friends for just leaving him there and drove off. ‘Call me when it's over!’ Hermione had yelled out through the window.

“Mr. Harry Potter?” a young man called out for him. Harry followed him into the counselors office, noticing that the room was much nicer than the waiting room and the chairs looked more comfortable. And if he was going to be stuck here for over an hour, he better not walk out with back pain.

Harry sat patiently as he waited for the counselor to come. He noticed the golden name plate on the desk with a name written in black letters. Jon Osborne. Harry’s leg was unconsciously bouncing in rhythm with the ticking of the clock on the wall. He didn't think he'd be nervous about it as he was now. He immediately stood up as he heard Dr. Osborne come in. “Mr. Potter, it’s an honor to meet you,” he stretched his hand out to greet Harry.

“Pleasure’s all mine, sir,” Harry said with a shy smile. Once they sat down, Dr. Osborne went straight into it, “So tell me, Mr. Potter, how have you been?”

“Great. I've been busy planning a wedding,” Harry stated like it was a normal conversation. “Congratulations. Yours, I'm assuming?”

“No, it's for my two best mates,” Harry corrected. “They're getting married pretty soon and I offered to help pay for it. Not really doing much of decoration planning, Hermione thinks Ron and I would pick something stupid,” Harry wasn't looking at Dr. Osborne directly, but he had a faint smile as he explained the details. “And are you with anyone?” Dr. Osborne asked.

It made the young wizard think. Ron and Hermione were getting married, Neville and Luna were having fun on small dates, and Ginny was still going back and forth with Dean. “No, I'm not with anyone at the moment.”

His counselor wrote something down quickly before going forward with the next question. “Do you think about it often?” Harry knew what he was insinuating. His breath hitched a bit. Harry certainly didn’t expect to be asked this question so early on. From Hermione’s explanation, he wasn’t expecting to talk about the Battle for maybe another couple sessions. And that was if Harry even wanted to do other sessions.

“You don’t think you need to be here,” it was like he read Harry’s mind. And it was true. “Well, I do have a pretty solid support group. We all went through it together.” Harry rubbed the palms of his unusually sweaty hands against his pants.

“So because you and your friends went through it together, you're okay? Nothing about it bothers you?” had Dr. Osborne’s tone altered just a bit, he would've sounded condescending. He sounded a bit empathetic. It made Harry actually want to talk. “Do you and your friends actually talk about it?”

The answer was clear to Harry. No. If he was being honest, he didn't think there's even a reason to talk about it. The worst had been over, and now that him and his friends and family – and by family, he meant the Weasleys – were finally in peace, Harry figured that he wouldn't have to think about it again.

But the nightmares were relentless. It wasn't like the ones he had when Voldemort was in his mind and showing him things he wanted to show Harry. These nightmares were worse. They consisted of the worst that could have happened that day. Watching his friends die, his professors, his peers. The worst of the worst. And there's one that he hated the most. Being in Voldemort's point of view and killing Harry successfully and for good this time.

Hermione tried to get Harry to talk, but he's too stubborn. So she figured the only way to get him to talk was to schedule this appointment. He was promised confidentiality and listening ears with no judgement. Harry accepted because he knew that even though Hermione would always be there, she would probably say something like ‘You're not alone in this, we're all here for you and with you.’ Ron would listen to the whole thing and suggest getting a drink and food. Harry loves his friends, but it's hard to talk about such things when they've gone through it too. He wondered if they felt the same.

—

Harry was leaving his fourth session with Dr. Osborne. Unexpectedly, he enjoyed these meetings. It felt good to talk to someone outside of his friends. Hermione noticed how he was returning to his old self, joking around and enjoying playing quidditch at the Burrow.

Harry decided on taking a small walk around the Muggle London street before calling Hermione and Ron to pick him up. After ten minutes, though, sprinkles of rain were falling down. And sprinkles turned into hard falls. Harry covered his head with his hands and looked around for someplace to run in. Next to him was a dental office, but to his luck the door was locked. He kept looking and looking for some place to stay inside until finally, he saw a building across the street with a lit up ‘Open’ sign.

Harry looked both sides of the street before running across. He was getting soaked by the second and when he ran inside, his jacket was dripping onto the mat. The place was warm and smelled lovely. Harry took his glasses off and wiped it with the driest part of his shirt. The cafe looked as warm as it felt. There weren’t any guests inside and he didn't find anyone working there. Harry saw the bell on the bread display and pressed on it a few times. After a couple of minutes, a girl came to the front. “Sorry for taking so long, how can I help– oh are you alright?” You saw the puddles of water that were splattered all around the floor. But your worry was with the stranger that was most likely freezing. “D-do you happen to have a phone around?” Harry asked you. He was shaking where he stood and all he wanted was to go home and get into some warm clothes. You nodded your head and went in the back to get the phone. Harry wanted to sit down, but he didn't want to make more of a mess than he’s already done. You came back quickly with a phone and a few rags so he could dry himself.

Harry dialed Hermione’s number and waited for her to answer. She didn't answer the first or second time which made Harry frustrated. They better not be in the middle of it right now. Finally, she answered on his third call. “Hello?”

“Hermione, what the bloody hell have you been doing?” Harry sassed. When he looked up, he saw how you stood awkwardly to the side, surprised that in contrast to his sweet demeanor, he sounded like the opposite. But that was just your assumption.

“Harry? Is that you? Why are you calling from this number?” In the background, he could hear Teddy joyful coos. “I was just giving Teddy a bath, I couldn't hear the phone.”

“Oh. Well, it’s raining really hard, can you come pick me up?” Harry felt your eyes on him still and he smiled awkwardly.

“Of course, are you still in the office?”

“No, I’m– hold on” he stopped mid-sentence and lowered the phone down, “where am I?” It took you a couple seconds to process that he was talking to you now, “Oh, uh, Daisy Cafe.”

“Daisy Cafe,” Harry repeated back to Hermione. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” And she hung up. Harry handed the phone back to you, “Thanks.”

Your hand was warm against his, a warmth he wished he had instead of the cold that enveloped his body. Harry’s legs were getting tired from standing so long and you noticed the shift in his position. “Please, take a seat,” you had gestured to a table. Harry insisted that he didn't want to ruin the chairs, but you didn't mind.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and ran to the back leaving Harry alone. He wondered what you were doing until he saw you come back slowly dragging a large heating machine. Harry stood from his seat and rushed to help you, “Where did you want this?”

“I was going to put this in front of the table so you can warm up. Don’t want you to get sick,” you spoke softly. You felt yourself warm up on your cheeks, somehow shy in this moment. On a daily basis, you talk to loads of strangers and some of them were quite attractive. But something about this stranger felt different.

Harry blinked with an indescribable look in his eyes as he stuttered a ‘thank you’. You turned on the large heater after Harry sat back down and slightly shifted his chair so he could be in range of the heaters’ direction.

You grabbed your keys from your back pants pocket to lock the door and turned the ‘Open’ sign off. “Would you like some coffee?” you offered him. Harry nodded and searched his pockets for his wallet before you stopped him, “Don't worry! It's on the house.”

There was a pot of coffee that was still hot on the warmer and you grabbed a tray, filling it with a mug, creamer, sugar, and a small plate of assorted biscuits in case he was hungry as well. You walked to his table and sat them down. He was in awe of all the things you brought out for him and felt grateful that you would do this for a stranger. “Thank you,” he nodded his head at you with a genuine smile.

“It’s no trouble,” you smiled back. You sat across from him with a mug of your own and sipped on the hot beverage you made. Harry took a sip of the coffee he finished preparing and nearly sighed at the feeling of it warming him up inside. Mixed with the heat that was coming from the heater, he felt brilliant as he usually says.

“Do you live around here?” You started small chat to get out of the awkward silence.

“No, I live just outside Ottery St. Catchpole.” Harry stated. He noticed the confused look on your face, you had probably had no idea where that was. “It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

You nodded in response. Harry then asked if you lived around. After a while, you had gotten to know each other pretty well. He learned about your two cats that are always fighting, you learned about his friends always pulling pranks on each other in the house. As Harry waited for Hermione to pick him up, he was enjoying talking and laughing with you. You two were having such a good time getting to know each other in what felt like thirty minutes, but was actually an hour.

Once Hermione was in front of the cafe and beeped the horn of the car, Harry felt a bit disappointed to leave. This was probably the first conversation he had with someone who he didn't already live with or paid to listen. And it was a bonus that he found you quite attractive. “That’s for me. Thank you… for letting me stay.”

“Oh it’s no trouble. Safe travels on your way home! I hope you don’t get sick,” you waved off as you opened the door for him. Harry ran through the hard rain to get into his friend's car, but once he opened the door to the front seat, he turned back to you. “I never got your name!” Harry yelled out.

“Y/N! What’s yours?” You voiced with the same energy.

“Harry!” You smiled and waved one last time before closing the door and got yourself ready to go home. Harry fastened his seatbelt and held a small smile nearly the entire ride home. Hermione cleared her throat to get her friends’ attention. “How was the session today?”

Harry nodded ‘yes’ in an attempt to not have to talk. Not because he was gloomy, but distracted. He then processed what she said and replied back to the bushy haired woman, “Oh, i-it went fine. Good, great.” Harry was stuttering over his words. It was something that Hermione instantly noticed what was going on. The last time he was like this was when he first met Cho in fourth year. It was nice, she thought, that Harry was not only getting back to normal, but was also focused on something - or rather someone - other than his nightmares.

—

Harry goes to your cafe now after every session with Dr. Osborne. He finally went for his drivers license so he didn't have to depend on Hermione anymore. Ron and Hermione apparate to work anyway, so it granted him more access to the car.

Every Monday and Thursday, you would wait for him to walk through your doors. You would set aside a small box of warm biscuits for him that he seemed to enjoy and remembered how he took his coffee. After a couple of weeks, the people you worked with would give you a smirk and tease you with ‘He’s here~’. One of them, Jo, would constantly ask you if Harry has asked you out yet. And every time, you'd say ‘No.’ only for him to reply back ‘Well, why don’t you ask him out?’

You’ve definitely thought about it, but you didn't know how to ask him. There would be times that you thought Harry would do it before he left, but he’d just be a stuttering mess and leave. So, tonight before he leaves, you planned to just be straight with him and ask him to dinner.

Harry came later than usual today. After he stepped out of the counselors’ office, he checked his hair in the mirror he saw in the hallways. Tonight, he was also planning on asking you out. He likes you and he was pretty sure you liked him too. Once he stepped outside, he saw a flower cart in front of a local bank. Harry debated whether or not to buy you some, but opted out. What if she says no? What do I do with them at that point?

After an hour of having a mental pep talk, he entered Daisy Cafe. He didn't see you behind the bread display like he always had. Jo had recognized him immediately and watched as Harry looked around the small cafe for you. “She’s in the back, would you like for me to get her?”

“I-I can wait. She’s probably busy,” Harry stuttered. He didn't know whether it was a good thing or bad thing that your co-worker instantly knew what he was there for. Is it really obvious? Harry thought. He saw as Jo walked to the back anyway, probably announcing his presence to you. As it turned out, you were in the back checking yourself out in the small mirror that was hung on the inside of your locker. You ran out as soon as Jo said "He’s here" and dusted the flour off onto your apron.

“Hi, Harry,” you greeted.

“Hi,” Harry greeted back. “How are you?”

“I’m doing good, just cleaning up. Did you have a good day?” you asked. Harry nodded his head. He was about to order before you stopped him, “Your usual today?” He gave a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head, “I come in that often, don't I?” You chuckled and began making his coffee. “It’s alright, I enjoy your company.” The both of you blushed, more so you after the sudden confession.

You couldn't see him, but Jo was listening to your conversation and wanted to laugh. You looked at Harry for any signs of possible rejection and just as quickly looked away to finish his order. Jo came out from the back with his bag and keys in his hand, “I’ve counted the safe for you. Have a good night, I’ll head out.” You nodded your head and thanked god for the interruption, “Thanks hun, see you tomorrow.” He winked at Harry once you looked away as to say ‘Good luck’ and walked out.

Harry became nervous and thought about just grabbing his coffee and going home. He hadn't dated anyone in a long time and didn't know where to even start. Merlin, he didn't even know what to do in a relationship. And especially with a muggle. Harry nearly forgot what it was like to be around muggles after the Dursley's left their home on Privet Drive and Harry moved in the Weasley’s in the Burrow. He certainly couldn't bring you there anytime soon. Especially when Arthur would ask you loads of questions. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Neither of you knew how to get a conversation going. You took your time stirring his coffee and grabbing the small box of biscuits before turning back to him. You made yourself tea instead, having drank too much coffee throughout the day to calm your nerves. He took the styrofoam cup and box from your hands and purposely brushed his fingers against yours but made it seem like an accident. Your neck stiffened at the sudden physical contact and pulled your hands back. He felt electric and if he let you, you'd grab his hands and keep them intertwined with yours.

It’s now or never you thought. “Do you want to go to dinner sometime–”

“Would you like to go out with me–” you and Harry spoke at the same time. You hadn't processed what he said so you questioned, “Huh? What was that?” Harry thought he heard you correctly, but he asked you again, “Would you like to go out with me? For dinner, maybe?”

YES, YES, YES you chanted in your head. Your heart was warm and you felt a butterfly flutter about inside you. On the outside, you were cool and collected. But your smile could have spoken for you. “Yes, I’d love that.”

—

Hermione helped Harry with looking for nice places in muggle London. George offered his best suit to the raven-haired boy, but Harry declined because he was significantly smaller in stature than the tall ginger, and also because he feared that George would have hexed the suit to either squirt out water, or have random objects falling out the sleeves.

George, Ginny and Ron would tease Harry about finally having a girlfriend, only to get scolded by both Hermione and Molly to stop. “Harry is a perfectly handsome young boy, he should be dating as much as he can,” Molly would defend.

“Ah, but mum, Harry isn't a boy anymore,” George joked. Molly hit her sons’ head with a cleaning rag and returned to what she was doing. Harry had picked a small restaurant that Hermione recommended that was inexpensive but not shabby. He never really liked expensive places or things even though he can absolutely afford them. She suggested that she helped him pick out something to wear, but he stopped her right there. “I can dress myself, thanks,” Harry sassed.

“The one you should be helping is my hopeless brother,” Ginny joked about Ron. He didn't find it all funny as Ron had a sour look on his face and whispered under his breath, “Bloody menace.”

“What did you say?” Ginny stood straight up from the couch and chased Ron throughout the house. She may be the youngest in the house, but it didn't make her any less scary when mad. George laughed at the sight of his siblings fighting while Molly yelled at them to be careful.

Harry finally put everything together – but if he was honest, he was putting together whatever Hermione said – and went to his room. There was still a couple days until the date, but he was nervous. He’s never really gone on a date. There was the night with Patil at the Yule Ball, but that didn't end well. There were a couple hang outs with Cho in the library, but never an actual date. So he hoped that this would turn out well.

—

Harry's breath was taken away when he saw you. You looked absolutely beautiful in the sundress you wore. Looking ethereal, you hadn't noticed Harry across the street parking the car. For a split second, he almost rear ended the car in front of him.

He walked towards slowly after taking a deep breath and held a single daisy in one hand. Hermione said roses were ideal, but he figured he should come up with at least one thing on his own. Your e/c eyes met his green ones and your heart did somersaults in your chest. Once he stood in front of you, you both said ‘Hi’ at the same time. Harry handed you the daisy and you were flattered by the gesture. It was a beautiful flower and you couldn't wait to put it in a small vase and display it at the cafe.

“Shall we go inside?” Harry had one of his hands pointed towards the door of the restaurant. You nodded and walked into the place with Harry holding the door open for you and another elderly couple behind him. He’s so sweet you thought.

The night was perfect; Harry had felt comfortable in your presence. Much like the first night you had met and the times after, you both spent the dinner talking and laughing. This was the most normal, but also best Harry had felt in a long time. He hadn't realized how he never really got to be a young person due to all the insane things he’d gone through his six years at Hogwarts and then before with his aunt and uncle. But here he was with you, doing the most normal thing. Harry’s troubles were lifted off of his shoulders. There was no threat of Death Eaters terrorizing the streets, there was no Dark Lord out to get him; it was just him sitting down and having dinner with a woman that he really liked.

He learned more about you tonight. For one, you were also an only child. Other than your cats, you also liked dogs. And you occasionally played football with some of your cousins. Harry had never played football, but if it was anything like quidditch, he was sure that he'd love it as well.

At the end of the date, he took you to your underground tube station. You walked side by side, hands slightly brushing against another. You walked a bit faster to stop in your tracks right in front of him. “I had a lot of fun,” you confessed.

“Me too,” Harry expressed. You looked down at your fiddling hands while Harry couldn't take his eyes off of you. He was about to say ‘good night’ before you built up the courage and kissed him on the cheek. “Night, Harry,” you beamed at him. Harry was turned into a blubbering, love-struck fool as he saw you walk further and further away. Finally, he yelled out, “I’ll see you on Monday!”

Before turning away into the tube, you waved and repeated his words back at him, “See you Monday!”

—

“Well you're certainly in a bright mood today, Mr. Potter,” Dr. Osborne observed Harry from his seat. Since the date, he’s been talking a bit brighter and his smile is more genuine than when he first came in. “Could it be because you’re seeing someone after you leave?” All Harry could do was smile. “Well I’m very happy that you now have a companion aside from your friends.”

Harry nodded before he replied back, “Thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me, Mr. Potter. You did this on your own,” Dr. Osborne stated. “Will you bring her to the wedding?”

“No, I don't think we’re ready for that,” Harry informed. This wedding would definitely include magic and you hadn't been close to any exposure of it. “Of course.” Dr, Osborne added. There was a bit of silence after that, which gave the counselor an opportune moment to ask about some of the things that were the reason for his weekly visits. “Do you still have the nightmares?”

Harry’s smile lowered. “Yeah, I do. But not as frequent as I used to have them.” It was true, it went down from him having them about nearly everyday to only get them once every couple weeks. He thanked Merlin you were kept out of his nightmares. He didn't need to see something traumatizing.

Dr. Osborne took notes and set his notepad down. “Well, Mr. Potter. I have seen excellent progress since day one. I think we can move down to just one session per week and work our way down to once every few weeks. I'll see you next Monday.” He opened the door for Harry and shook his hand as Harry left. Harry went to your cafe right after. The daisy he gifted you was on display above the glass bread display in a small, white vase. He hoped that you regularly watered and fed it so you wouldn't notice that Harry actually hexed the flower to never die. You were currently helping someone out when Harry stood in line. Once the customer you were with left, you noticed your boyfriend – at least you assumed he was, now – standing behind a couple of people. He waved at you, and you pointed to the usual table he sat at. It was almost like you reserved the table only for him. He nodded and sat down, patiently waiting for you to finish the line of customers.

Harry was mesmerized watching you work, the beautiful, kind smile you had when talking to customers. Some of them were obviously regulars as you asked one elderly man how his grandchildren were. Once she finished helping everyone, she started working on the usual coffees and tray on biscuits for the two of you.

Harry loved hearing about your day and he wished he could tell you more beyond what happens at home that didn't include magic. He didn't know when he'd tell you about him being a wizard. Ron and Hermione told him that if he were to tell you, you're more than welcome to attend their wedding which was still a few months away now that they have all the time in the world to plan it. He didn't know what to say, but there was one thing he was sure about. He really liked, maybe even loved, how comfortable he felt around you. He liked the way your hands felt in his, your eyes shying away when you looked at him for too long. And he loved the feeling of your warm, soft lips against his at the end of the night when you had just locked the doors and he just went for it. Because in that moment, he wasn't the famous Harry Potter who saved the wizarding world, he wasn't Harry Potter who was recovering from the aftermath of the Battle. He was just Harry, and he really liked being your boyfriend.

At least he assumed he was.

—

requests open!

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #requests open #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x muggle!reader

[the-final-sif]

I kinda feel like that because both Shouto and Katsuki have shitty parents, whenever they're trying to explain their childhoods they just look at eachother and are like: "Oh. Negetlected to the point that they litterally would not notice if you got kidnapped?" "Oh, forced to train as a small teeny weeny child to the point of vomiting?" It's like a fucked version of charades when they comunicate because even though their childhoods were fucked up in different ways, they just low-key get it.

See, I like to think that they get super confused by the other person/have trouble communicating with one another exactly because they both had shitty parents but in opposite directions.

Like, whenever one of them brings up their childhood, the other one knows what was going on in their childhood was wrong, but then their idea of what’s ‘right’ (or ‘normal’) is completely wrong too. So it’s just the two of them constantly playing the “wait, was my childhood fucked up or was your childhood fucked up.” game (hint, the answer is usually both).

Katsuki: Yeah, I used to fix up and use old villain hideouts all on my own so I could use ‘em for training my quirk when I was like 6 years old, helped me get tough enough to beat the kidnappers. Almost died a few times though lol. Every kid does that though right?

Shouto: wait no, that’s not normal. When you’re 6 years old tou’re supposed to get pushed past your limits by one of your parents regardless of whether or not you want to be there. Getting forced to train until you collapse is what kids do.

Katsuki & Shouto squint at each other trying to figure out which of them is wrong.

Shouto: Obviously children are kept isolated from everyone including their siblings when they’re younger, and only allowed to meet approved guests under careful supervision and on their best behavior. Otherwise they’d get distracted.

Katsuki: What the fuck are you talking about, children are supposed to be able to walk up to random strangers at 2 AM at night to ask them about their tattoos. That’s how you learn shit. Hell that’s how I met a lot of cool people.

Katsuki: What the fuck is “”””””adult supervision”””””???

Shouto: Oh it’s when you have an adult watching over you at all times directing every moment of your life, deciding who you’ll be and correcting your behavior. All kids are supposed to have that.

These arguments/debates only get resolved when someone else finally manages to speak up and tell them that they’re both completely and utterly wrong what the fuck.

#katsuki bakugou #shouto todoroki #bnha #mha #todobaku #kinda #sif speaks #sif answers #endeavor's bad parenting #mitsuki's bad parenting #my headcanons #Anonymous #katsuki's kidnappings