#I felt like I’d been sprayed in the face with a fire hose

[blueberryspyder]

I got waterboarded with Sprite right before having to leave for work; how’s YOUR Sunday going?

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (17)

word count; 8202

summary; after a dangerous call, neither of you can handle the waiting around anymore, and everything finally bubbles over.

notes; you’re welcome.

warnings; descriptive injury, reference to death, reference to arson, minor character injury.

“Holy fucking shit, I know they prepared us for this stuff with all those drills and what have you, but I never expected this.”

You smacked at Newt’s arm roughly, covering your face as you stared up at the building, smoke curling up from the top of the building, and scared students were all gathering on the grasses and the tennis courts, filtering out of the buildings and lining up, and it was eerily quiet. The usual fires you attended were loud, screaming and shouting of worried relatives as chatter went up, and big ones like this had news cameras and reporters gathering around, hounding victims for interviews and information.

This time, it was unsettlingly calm.

The kids had all followed routine, lined up with their teachers, each of whom were going along with attendance records, checking off the kids that had arrived and making sure they were where they were supposed to be, while tickling names off. Only the gentle voices of teachers talking in low tones to their classes could be heard instead of the usual clamouring, and you could still hear the alarms of the school’s fire alarms from inside as they rang.

Glowing flames licked up into the sky, windows shattering as glass got too hot and the smoke was black as possessions burned. Kids were crying, and at the gates were camera flashes and news team, all of whom held back out of earshot as they weren’t allowed to film the children, kept back from school property, and it was a blessing you were thankful for, because they would have been overwhelmed. You let out a slow breath, three other ambulances all pulling up, and you swallowed thickly while staring at the burning remnants of a once productive high school.

Even if they weren’t injured, you’d be required to check every kid here, and you were grateful for the assistance of other paramedics. They were already beginning to shift their equipment, setting up with tables and chairs that staff were carrying out from a sports hall storage room that wasn’t connected to the main building, safe from the flames and creating a makeshift triage bay.

Even just as you looked around, there were hundreds of kids that you and Newt would have to sort through alone. The firemen were buzzing around behind you, undoing rolls of hoses and taking them to the nearest hydrants, trying to come up with some kind of game plan, and you stared up at the building, nothing but pure confusion and empathy for the terror these students must be feeling.

“There’s gotta’ be, like, two thousand kids here.” You mumbled, cupping a hand over your eyes to look up at the glare, and your body sank a little.

“Yep, and you get to pick a piece of paper, choose your year group.” You jumped slightly, an unfamiliar voice, and your eyes found a similar uniform to your own, stretched over broad shoulders of a man who was a lot taller than you were, hair pulled back neatly behind his head in a ponytail, tattoos peeking out from under the collar of his shirt, and a beard neatly tucked away underneath his chin. “I’m Arthur, firehouse ‘46, and I’m apparently the one in charge of dividing up all the classes.”

“Is it too much to hope we get the freshmen?” You chuckled, taking a piece of the folded paper from his hands as he tried to keep it fair, and a deep chuckle vibrated through him as he nodded.

“Unfortunately, it would be, because my partner already picked that one out for us. No favouritism, I swear, just luck.”

“I’d challenge you on that, but your fist looks like it’s about the size of my head, so you’d probably win that fight.” He let out a louder laugh at that, raising a brow as you opened the piece of paper, his messy handwriting illegible for a second, and you studied it, before he was letting out a low whistle. “Juniors. Tough break.”

Newt let out a groan, what was arguably going to be the rowdiest and loudest group, protesting the most and kicking up a fuss, and you shrugged, accepting his final pitiful smile before he moved on. Newt watched him go, eyes scanning along him slowly for a second, before you clicked your fingers at him. “Hey, you just fixed things with your boyfriend! You gave me shit for being friendly with other firefighters, stop checking out other paramedics!”

“I wasn’t checking him out!” Newt gasped, cheeks tinting pink. “I was just looking, I guess. He’s not my type, I don’t want them too tall, it makes me feel tiny. I hate that. I want to be pushed up against the wall, not thrown around like a rag-doll. Too much muscle.” You glanced at him again, noting what he meant, because the man did look like he spent every free minute he had at the gym, and you shrugged.

Your eyes wandered then, you couldn't help it, flickering over the others around you before finding your team. The Truck team were all reporting to Thomas, no step-in lieutenant having arrived in Gally’s place yet, and didn’t like the idea of being a firefighter down on your team. He seemed to be coping through, giving out orders to a team twice the size, each breaking away in the usual pairs he made as they divided off to complete tasks.

Around the entrance to your ambulance, two tables had been set up, one on each side and a third one across them, forms being laid out in stacks with pens, each to be filled out by a student and held with them to take home, ones you’d have to sign every time to show you dismissed them, and you flexed your fingers, already anticipating the ache that would come.

The lines were beginning to shift again, teaching staff arriving with their lines of students, waiting to be told what to do, and you shared a look with Newt, before diving right into it. Splitting off the classes, you sat down behind one table, kids slowly filling out each form and coming to sit with you, letting you do initial checks across their eyes, their pulse and their reaction times, before signing each form.

Some were a little more injured, with small cuts and grazes, jostling in the halls knocking them around or to the floor, and you had quite a few bumped heads. Some had worse smoke inhalation, and some had been closer to the initial blast. Those were the worst ones, the ones with head injuries that were filling up the chairs laid out to wait for parents, and you had to not only sign your name on their forms but fill out medical information cards for them, ready to be sent to the hospital, and only an hour in, you felt like your hand was going to drop off. You’d scarcely made it to the other side off half of the kids, watching them all slowly being collected by crying and fearful parents, let in at the gates to find their kids, when you found out what had happened.

The gas taps in the science labs had exploded, a leaky seal that hadn't closed off and a bunsen burner that was too close to the leak. The science experiment gone wrong had sent flames bursting through all the labs along the floor, and you had to choke back bile when the kids who’d been sitting closer to the flames had come in.

They were shaking, sobbing tears and blood from burned skin that still smelled of gas. Melted plastic on smart uniform ties and burned clothing that still looks smokey. Ash was beginning to fall from the sky, blowing in your direction from the wind, some still glowing until it reached the ground, and they were all trembling from the trauma just at the remnants of it. You didn’t blame them.

The kid coming forwards next was shaky, an empty form clutched carefully in his hands as he handed it over, and you scribbled your name on it, looking up at him with a raised brow. “You know you gotta’ fill this out, right? I can’t let you leave until you have.”

“I know.” He whispered, the hands that were clenched under the table being lifted after a moment's hesitation, and he held his palms out, open hand facing you, backs pressed to the table. “I would but it hurt, I tried.”

You could see the etched strains of dotted ink at the top, your eyes wide as you took in the damage to his hands. He seemed alright everywhere else; a little red along parts of his skin where he’d gotten too close to some flames, but other than that, nothing too bad, but the damage to his palms was extensive. Blackened skin was charred and burned, bleeding and red flesh exposed underneath and raw to the cold air and you imagined it would be agony, the injuries travelling all the way to his wrists. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I, um, my hands got burned when I was trying to get out.”

I can see that, kid, but how?” You were filling in the form yourself, scribbling down the notes you could do yourself, and letting him substitute his name, date of birth and class number as you reached those sections, pen moving quickly over the paper as you waited for a reason. “I can't let you go until you tell me.”

“A door got stuck. I had to push it open.”

“How stuck was this door, because these aren’t the kind of burns that happen with quick movements, this took prolonged exposure.” He squirmed in his seat, avoiding your eye, and you gave in. Beside you, scattered around on your table and in the ambulance were the contents of your medkit, and the drawers, all running low on supplies as you’d tended to many injured kids, and you shook your head at his reluctance to speak. “Alright, fine, we’ll wait it out. Any allergies?”

He shook his head, chin wobbling a bit, and you handed his form back over to him, a neat crease down the middle where it was folded in half, and he held his hands out for you upon request. His face screwed up at the sting of the antiseptic spray, soft warnings on murmured apologies on your lips as you sterilised the wounds, before beginning to wrap them with aloe and cream soaked bandages. He shed several tears during the process, twisting to wipe his face on his shoulder as you patched up the first hand.

“Ready to talk, yet?”

He looked up at you again, shaking his head slowly after a second, and you let out a disappointed sigh that you hoped might make him cave, but he held strong. You worked on the other hand, wrapping the medicinal bandages slowly and carefully over his skin, weaving between his fingers and around his thumb, making sure to cover all of the exposed flesh right down to his thumb, before tucking it in carefully and sealing them with tape.

“You can go and wait over on those chairs until you’re ready to fess up, and you’re gonna’ have to go to the hospital for real treatment.” You nodded to one of the teachers as he went, head hung low and sulking as he walked away, before you turned to the next kid.

This one was worse, the same burns but these ones travelled halfway up his forearms, another empty sheet placed down in front of you, before he too was glancing at the last kid with burned hands, and your eyes narrowed on the two. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I got stuck, behind a-”

“A closed door? Is that what you're about to say?” A guilty look flashed over the second boy’s features, wide-eyed as he swallowed the lump formed in his throat, and he nodded. “That’s total bullshit. I don’t know what the two of you have been up to, but you don’t think I know what causes burns when I see them? I work in a firehouse, my firemen get burned up all the time, and this isn’t what happens when you push open a burning door. This is what happens when you hold onto something hot for a long time.”

He didn’t say anything, he just held out his hands, hissing in pain but managing to blink away his tears, unlike his friend, when you began to treat his wounds. The more severe they were, the more supplies you required, and you opted to dab the aloe gel and burn cream mix up to his elbows on each hand with a cotton pad, gentle not to let the tips of your fingers drag on open flesh as dry rubber from your gloves irritated the wounds.

“You need to tell me what happened, because I can’t let you go when you’ve got burns like this. You know it’s criminal evidence, right? If you don’t fess up and tell me the truth, you’ll have to tell it to the police. Why didn’t your teachers bring you forwards first if you had these kinds of injuries?”

“Because we weren’t in class.” He eventually whispered, and now the tears flowed, something inside of him seeming to crack wide open as hot tears flowed, the kid breaking down before you in a sob. You were wrapping his second arm carefully by the time he managed to catch his breath, his reaction shocking you a little, you didn’t want to make the kid cry with your threat of talking to the police, you just wanted to know what would happen. “We didn’t do this, I swear! We weren’t involved!”

“I know that, this was a freak accident, we already know that much, but you can tell me what happened.” Once you were finished, you took a seat before him, taking off blood and ointment stained gloves and throwing them in the bin bag you and Newt were rapidly filling up. As you did, you noticed Newt treating a kid with much the same injuries, your eyes narrowing a little on them for a second, before you sat down, picking up your pen and beginning to fill in the empty form. “We were skipping class.”

“All kids do that.” You chuckled, taking his name and date of birth as he worried his lower lip between his teeth, and just like that, all of a sudden, he was twisting to the side in his seat, retching violently onto the floor, as more tears began to flow. You abandoned the forms, rounding the edge of the table and the area around you where parents had been collecting their kids and teachers had been dismissing them suddenly fell silent, everybody turning to look over, and you rubbed his back gently, the contents of his stomach emptying.

When he was finished, he sat back up, trying to wipe at his mouth and wincing when he rubbed his mouth against his bandages by mistake, before lowering his hand. He slumped, seemingly drained of energy, eyes hooded a little, and you checked his pupils and his reactions again but they came out perfectly fine, and so this reaction wasn’t related to any injuries. “There were four of us.”

“Four of you?”

“Yeah, four of us skipped class.” You glanced around, noting only three with burned hands as Newt dismissed his kid to join your first, and a chilling feeling settled like a pit in your stomach. “We were in the theatre rooms, they’re below the science floors. We were messing around, and Ian went to the toilets in the corridors. When the explosion went off, the floor started to collapse, and a beam went over the door.”

You hated that you already knew where it was going, and your eyes impossibly wide as you glanced around, trying to find the yellow stripes of any fireman you knew to be free from your house, or any house, but they were all busy and out of view.

“The beam caught fire, and we tried so hard to move it, we tried but it hurt so much, and there was so much smoke and it got so hot, and we couldn't do it anymore. We had to go, we tried so hard but we had to go!” He was borderline hysterical, stuttering over his words as he cried, before he was gagging again, and you stepped out of the way, just avoiding his upchuck as he emptied his stomach again, guilt and anxiety taking a physical reaction on him. You processed his words, before the heavy truth settled over you again.

“Oh my God, Newt, there’s a kid still trapped in there.”

“What?” Your partner whipped around in his seat, eyes wide, before looking to the kid still heaving, and the other two with matching injuries. “Go find someone on the team, I'll finish up here!”

You nodded, pausing for a second to look around, before catching sight of a few metallic strips glinting in the light not far from the Squad truck. You stumbled over your feet, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to get there. Rounding the edge of the red van, you found Winston sitting on the edge of the truck, door open, one foot on the floor by his helmet as the other was pulled up, his back pressed to the wall, and he was panting for breath, sweating as his mask lay beside him.

He cracked an eye open as he looked up at you, confusion taking over his face for a second, before concern was replacing it. “What’s up? Aren’t you dismissing kids?”

“There’s still a kiss trapped in there?”

“We did a sweep, everyone did, they checked every room and every floor, all the rooms.” You shook your head, hands shaking a little with your fear, and you felt the tremors spread over your body.

“No, no, there is someone.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and he sat up a little further. “There’s three kids, burns all over their hands and up their arms, because they were skipping class. They were right under the explosions, a kid was in one of the bathrooms and a beam fell over the door, they tried to move it but they couldn't, he’s trapped inside.”

“He’s been in there since this fucking happened? That was hours ago!” Despite his shock and disbelief, he was on his feet again, grabbing for his mask and his helmet, being the first one to finish his set of tasks clearly not coming much in handy, because he was going to be going back inside. “Where was he?”

“Uh, they said they were near the drama and theatre halls.” He nodded his head, hooking his mask back up to his oxygen tank as he pulled it up and adjusted the straps on his shoulders. “Winston, I gotta’ go with you.”

“No way, it’s falling apart in there.”

“I know, but you said it yourself, it’s been hours. That kid is gonna’ need immediate first aid, and how much first aid do you know?” He looked conflicted, tapping his foot a little and glancing around, watching as a few more members of your team, as well as others, all began to emerge from different exits. There was only so much of the fire they could risk putting out, when the building was igniting faster than they could contain it, it would have to simply burn itself out. “C’mon, Winston. Just grab me gear and let's go.”

“Fine, but stick by my fucking side and don’t take a step away, okay?”

“I promise!” You nodded, and he opened up one of the spare lockers. You knew the drill, kicking off your shoes and grabbing the heatproof gear that was labelled in a silver tin with your name across the front in permanent marker. Tugging the pants up your legs as fast as you could, you sealed them at the waist, tying them tightly and grabbing your jacket. You buttoned it up, fingers shaking as you did, before kicking off your shoes, uncaring of where they landed.

Pulling on your boots, you knelt down to tie them, your med bag landing beside you as Winston had retrieved it, and he looked more than anxious as he stared at you, letting you tuck the laces into the edge of the shoes to hide them once they were tight. “You’re gonna’ have to carry your bag, because you need to wear a tank and mask.”

He shook the other objects in his hands, and you stood, turning around and guiding your arms through the straps as he held it out, your breath forced from your lungs as the heavy weight settled onto your back. Following it, he rested the mask over your face, the glass fogging up for a second as you took heavy breaths, clearing a second later when cool oxygen was twisted on and began to come through. He fixed his own mask, gloves and helmet following as you copied him, checking it was all sealed up tight around your skin, before grabbing your bag.

You always felt like an astronaut in this gear, big and puffy and baggy, like you were walking with added gravity following behind him in wide and shuffling steps as quickly as you could, nerves and fear riding more and more as you headed towards burning entrances. It was something you’d never get used to, the idea of walking straight into flames, of walking into a burning building, and you patted deftly across the front of your helmet to find your torch, turning it on as Winston did the same, and then, you were plunging into thick black smoke.

It was like something from a horror movie, you could see other firemen wandering around, their shadows as they tried to at least secure as much as they could as the fire ripped through the building, burning through whatever fuel it could, and none of them paid you any mind. Clutching your bag up to your chest, you kept your eyes fixed on Winston, not daring to take your eyes off of him in case you lost him, and he was following signs as he went, trying to find the downstairs floors of the drama and theatre.

Your steps left footprints in the ash that was lining the floor, each footstep padded to silence by the thick grey layer, like a breadcrumb trail as you went, and it was a guiding light that was brushed away seconds later with the air currents created by flames.

You knew it when you finally arrived, large amphitheatres and halls, Winston pausing as he tried to identify which way the toilets would be, and his head twisted as he looked from one end to the other.

“You check that side, I’ll check this one. Do not go out of yelling range or sight.”

You gave him a mock-salute, peeling off to the left when he went to the right, and you scanned along the walls for the doorways.

There was nothing, just places where posters had been on the walls, the smashed glass of photos or peel offs to more corridors, but no toilets or burned beams. Just as you reached the end of the hall, only one direction coming off of it in a short pathway, you noticed something. It was crumbled now, black and crumbled but it could definitely have once been a solid beam, and as you squinted through the smoke, you could just about make out a doorway.

“Winston! I think I got it!” You yelled as loud as you could, turning around to find him spinning to look at you, and you held an arm out in a point down a connected corridor. He took off in a jog, as fast as he could move in the heat and the layers of clothes, and while it took him only seconds to reach you, it felt like it dragged on and on, the emergency making everything seem too slow as you worried for the trapped kid’s well-being.

He stepped ahead first, pacing towards it, and you followed after him, a slightly relieved breath leaving you when you were close enough for your head torches to reflect on signs signalling for the toilets. Winston placed a hand on the beam as the two of you approached it, pressing down on it as best he could, and the beam groaned at the pressure, but despite the force he applied, it didn’t crack.

He held out an arm, pushing you back slightly as his hand went to the toolkit around his waist, and unhooking a small hand axe. He held it up, adjusting it carefully in his grip, before swinging it up high and bringing it back down. It dug in, getting stuck for a second, and a large splintering sound filled the air, but it didn’t break.

He tried again, and again, and your anxiety was almost ready to burst when it finally cracked, hitting the floor with a loud thud, and you jumped, wincing slightly at the sound. The half still attached to the ceiling fell down, bringing a little more of the ceiling down, and it all became unstable again. Pieces of the roof were crumbling away, crashing down in bundles of flames to the floor, but at least one problem was solved.

Putting away the axe, Winston kicked open the door, waiting to see if any fire would come out. There was fire crawling along the roof, but the tiled floors were clean, the room smoky and filled with ash but reasonably safe, and the two of you entered.

As promised, there he was, the fourth student was unconscious on the floor beside one of the sinks. You glanced around, noting the jacket he must have been wearing was soaked with water, lay over his face as he’d tried to breathe through it to stop too much smoke inhalation, and Winston glanced at you as you sunk to your knees.

“Smart kid, that move probably saved his life.” You peed it back, checking for any signs of breathing, and you found his vets to be rising and falling very slowly and weakly, barely taking in any oxygen at all. Lifting up the torch from your keyring, you raised an eyelid, bloodshot eyes encasing pupils that were hardly responsive, reactions that took over a second to come into focus, and barely moving.

Scanning along his arms, you noted the raw burns that were forming along his flesh, tugging your bag open quickly and grabbing for the aloe inside. If he was to be carried back through the building, you wanted to minimise any risk of his wounds getting any worse. You didn’t try to be delicate or gentle, you were rushing, knowing you had to put speed over gentleness now, and that you could treat them properly once you were back outside.

Twisting on down on the taps, not much water came through, dripping through the pipes, and you used your teeth to pull off one glove, daring to touch the water. It wasn’t exactly cold, the pipes underground being heated by the fires above, but it was cool enough, and you dropped piles of bandages down into the sink to begin to soak. Taking open the gel, you squeezed out thick rows of it onto his arms, using your bare hand to rub it in, trying to be fast as the skin on the back of your hand began to hurt. Once it was rubbed in, you began to pick up dripping bandages, not even bothering to ring them out, before sealing the cool wrapping around his arms as best you could to keep them secured.

As soon as they were on, you were pulling your glove back on, and rubbing at the back of your hand through the material to soothe the pain there.

“He needs oxygen, with reaction times like this, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

“I can give him my mask.”

Winston reached for his mask, and you shook your head. He was covered in burns, he was out cold, and there was no way he’d wake up anytime between now and the hospital, it at all. Despite being alive, you had no idea what the long-term effects would be on him, and you hoped for the best, but you knew there wasn’t much Winston could do without his mask. “You can’t, you’re gonna’ have to carry him out of here. He takes my mask.”

No way, I’m trained for this, you aren’t. You’ll choke up in here before getting back to the main corridors.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t exactly carry this kid. So, if we want to get him out of here alive, we’re just going to have to risk it.” You didn’t wait for his response, ignoring his protests as you took off your helmet, reaching behind your head for the elastics of the mask, and pulling them off. The second it was gone, your skin flared up at the rush of heat, and you took a gasping breath. Your lungs were searching for oxygen, the flames burning most of it away, and you were getting so little now that your pure source was gone.

Hooking the mask over the kid’s face, you took off your tank, holding it on your arms as Winston glared at you from behind the glass, crouching down to pick the boy up from the floor, and you placed the tank onto him too, waiting for Winston to adjust his grip before letting go of the pair. Putting your helmet back on, you tucked your hair under the collar of your jacket, protecting the back of your neck.

Zipping your bag back up and draping the damp hoodie over his head for added protection against the flames, you hid your face in your elbow, coughing against the smoke and trying to breathe lightly so as not to suck too much of it into your lungs.

“Follow me, keep up, okay? Don’t fall behind.”

There were worry and concern in his voice, friendly and desperate as he pleased with you, and you nodded your head. He turned, moving as quickly as he could as he left the bathrooms again, backing or of the door and back into the hallway. If you’d thought the bathroom had been bad, this was far worse, your eyes watering and lungs burning as soon as you stepped out. You kept one arm raised, simply to protect your face, your bag clenched under the other arm.

Winston was moving faster than you were, the lack of oxygen making you fall behind, but you could still seem him ahead, and you could see the large and fresh imprints of his bots in the ash before they were fading in the swirling storm of burning debris, following them once the smoke was too much for you to keep your eyes raised for too long. They were stinging, watering continuously to blink free dust that got in them, and your tears were almost absorbed right off of your face.

When you looked back up, daring to stare into the hallway, it was void of movement, all the firemen having cleared out as the smoke got thicker, burning through the insulation in the walls now. The corridors forked, and you paused, trying to remember which way you’d come. There was no daylight to guide you, no windows you could see through, just thick smoke lit up by orange flames, and you swallowed down on a sore throat coughing again as you grew more and more scared.

You had to move, you knew you did, and so you chose one option, knowing that moving in either way was better than simply standing still. Following it along, the further you went, the more and more unfamiliar it became, the minutes melting away as you stumbling along all the while knowing you’d chosen the wrong way. You found the wall, hand sitting on it lightly to help guide your way, and your fingers bumped against a raised section.

Pausing, you brushed the dust away, squinting to read what it said. There were several classroom guidances, and then something that made you want to cry with relief, even if it was the wrong direction. The gardens. You hadn't seen any gardens upon coming into the school grounds, and so you assumed you were on the other side of the building now, having stumbled along for so long you’d moved all that way, but as long as you got out, you’d be fine.

Following that guidance, you paused each time you found a sign, before finally, doors that had burned right off their hinges and had fallen off allowed a little sunlight to poke through the smoke.

Your feet scraped on the ground as you finally made it out, soft ash falling away to be replaced with concrete, and you wanted to fall to the ground, knees weak with bliss at escaping the building, but you forced yourself to keep going. You were gasping, throat raw as you took deep breaths, finally able to do so once again and you felt a little dizzy as your head spun at the sudden rush of fresh air.

You grabbed at the front of your jacket, sweltering in the thick material as you tugged on it until it came loose, flapping at the front and letting in cold air and you felt a little less restrained.

You stayed away from the building as you tried to walk around it, following the flashing lights on the ambulances until the place where you’d been stationed started to come into sight once again. It was clearer, only a few kids left milling around, the fire teams having retreated back to their vans, equipment being stripped off and water bottles handed out, and you searched for your own team.

You found them, all gathered around and starting at the entrance, even Winston and Newt, and you noticed that one of the ambulances was gone, presumably having rushed your reduced child to the hospital. They were waiting for you to emerge from the entrance you’d entered, all looking nervous, and Newt was the first to notice you coming around the other side.

As soon as he had, the group were turning to you, your body slumping a little more under your weight, and you staggered towards them. Newt found you first, taking your bag from your hands as you held it out to him, and offering him a tired smile as he shook his head fondly.

“You gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Newt, I swear.” He frowned for only a second longer, before his lips were breaking in a smile, and Brenda was up next. She took you into a tight hug, arms underneath the edge of your jacket, which Minho was peeling down your arms for you and taking away the added weight, and you thanked him silently with a nod as you wrapped your arms back around her. “Bren, I’m okay.”

“You think you’re a damn firefighter, I swear it!”

You laughed at that, throat a little raspy as it trailed off into a caught, and Newt chuckled. “Let’s get you some water, okay?”

“That sounds awesome.” You followed them over to the trucks, Newt jogging ahead to get you a bottle, and as soon as you arrived, you took it. You cracked the lid open taking a large gulp, and looking around for a second, before the person you were unintentionally searching for was found. He looked angry, a face like thunder as he stormed over, shoulders squared and tense with furrowed brows.

His steps had purpose, and the closer he got, the more you could take him in. Slightly dirty skin, sweaty and stained with soot and ash had tracks under his eyes cut into them from tears, the edges of his scowl wobbling as he looked still on the edges of jagged emotions, and you were filled with guilt. You met him halfway, mouth dropping to talk to him but he beat you to it, a sharp inhale before he is grabbing your arm, and dragging you between the two parked fire trucks as the rest of the firemen all seemed to clear away in fear of his anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” There was a crack to his voice that you didn’t comment on, giving away that his anger was actually fear, no rage at all but simply worry that you had caused, and you hated that you’d done it, but you wouldn't take your action back, not when you’d saved a life once again. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you’d let that boy die in there. “Do you have any idea how fucking worried I was? I come out after hours in that burning building to find you and check you’re okay just to find out you’ve gone into the fucking wreckage? To find out you took off your goddamn mask and got lost?”

His frown melted away, fresh tears filling his eyes, and he sniffed lightly, his face crumpling again as his tears came free. Two large droplets leaked along his cheeks, leaving wet marks, and your stomach twisted with guilt. You took off your gloves, dropping them down to the floor without a care to be able to cup his cheeks and wipe them away from his flushed skin as he stared at you. “I got stuck, Tommy. That’s it, I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew that kid was in there and I let him die to save my own life.”

You sank down, every muscle in your body aching as you sat on the edge of the van, finally giving in to your exhaustion, and he let out a shaky and weak sob again. He followed, sinking to his knees in front of you, his entire body collapsing under the weight of his worry, but his eyes never left your own.

He lifted a bare hand, cupping your cheek the way you had for him a second ago, and his eyes moved as he swept his sights over your face, trying to take a more deep and calming breath. The simple skin to skin touch grounded him.

“Don’t make me lose you, too.” He whispered, a silent beg in his words not to leave him, and your heart cracked a little in your chest. “I know you’re mad at me right now, okay? You say you’re not but I know you are because I spent enough time with you mad when we first met to know what that looks like on you.”

You chuckled, his lips flicking up at the edges as you did.

“I can handle you being mad, though, okay? I can handle that, because I love you, but I can’t handle you dying. I can’t take that. Don’t do that to me, I need y-” Your hands smoothed over his chest, finding the edges of the jacket he had yet to shed and pulling him forwards. You bowed your head down to his level, cutting off his words by placing your lips on his, and he shuddered under your touch, groaning into your mouth as his mind caught up with what was happening.

He panted slightly, twisting his head to the side to get a better angle, and this was nothing like last night. He wasn’t shy or worried, he just poured out everything he felt, his lips working slowly but surely with your own, a desperation and need hidden underneath in the kiss that made you tremble, because it was nothing like you’d ever felt before. You didn’t feel the metal you were sitting on or the truck behind you, the voices of everyone still around seemed to face away, your entire focus shifting to only him.

He pressed up, kissing you just as firmly and gripping your jaw with a little more force. After a moment longer, lungs demanding air, he pulled back, long enough for a gasping breath and to lick over his lips. He forced himself to stand up on shaky legs, one hand on your waist pulling you with him, before he was pressing you back into the edge of the truck for support. The cold metal against your back was nothing with the way his chest pressed to you, drawing in his head as he held you so close, that hand sliding around your waist to pull you flush up against him.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your nose bumping his as he stole several more pecks from your lips as the two of you caught your breath, and you puckered your lips for him each time, stuttering as his fingertips pressed into your skin through your shirt. “I know this isn’t how you wanted our real first kiss to go.”

“I so don’t care anymore. Just shut up and kiss me again, sweetheart.” He closed the gap himself, and you hummed happily as his tongue dragged over your lower lip, tempting you to part them, and you moaned weakly when his tongue dared to dip out and brush with your own. It was a connection you both needed, long overdue and frantic.

A messy kiss, clashes of teeth with need and raspy breaths between kisses, bumping foreheads when you moved but you'd have time to perfect it, but right now, you just needed to make the promises to each other that you were okay, and you were still here. When he finally pulled back, it was reluctantly, dragging slightly kiss swollen lips away from your own to stare at you, darkened eyes going soft the longer he looked, and he pulled away long enough to run the back of a finger over your cheek, a look that could only be described as adoration taking over. “I love you, and you don’t have to say it back, not until you really mean it, but I mean it and I want you to know. I want everyone to know, you’re always gonna’ be my first and only choice, angel.”

You grinned, a giggle that you muted by pressing your lips to his own in a chaste kiss, and when you pulled back, he followed your lips for a second, only furthering your intimate amusement.

“I’m never going to get tired of being able to kiss you now.”

“I should hope not.” He beamed, brushing the tip of his nose with your own, before stepping back fully, and bringing his hand to yours, weaving your fingers together. “Go sort out your team, lieutenant, they’ll be needing you to help pack away.”

“I’m sure they can wait a few more minutes, I’ve waited months to get here with you.”

“Yeah, well, you can have me all to yourself later. You still owe me pizza.” His joy only brightened more at the offer, his brows raising, and he was nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll stay over, and you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“I’d love that.” He pecked your lips one more time, a pink blush taking over his features as he realised he could now, before he was stepping back. “I’ll meet you back at the firehouse?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You whispered, and he turned away, giving you a second of privacy, lifting your fingers to brush over your lips, your mind still reeling as you attempted to process what had happened. A throat cleared a second later, and Newt was standing with his hands on his hips, head tilted toward the ambulance.

“I’m not putting all that shit away myself so you can daydream about kissing Tommy.” He scoffed, teasing you a little as he made his way over, and you couldn't help the smirk your lips were forming. “So, did he finally man up and kiss you? He's only been talking about it for months.”

“I kissed him, actually.” Newt’s jaw dropped, his hands shooting up in the air with a loud cheer to follow.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking knew it! Gally owes me twenty damn bucks, and I will collect.” He slung an arm over your shoulders, guiding you towards the ambulance that he needed help with beginning to pack away, and you shrugged, reaching up your hand to hold onto Newt’s as it hung over your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you were betting on us.”

“I was betting on you, I knew he would psych himself out, all my money was on you, love.” He offered a cheesy grin, pinching at your cheek, and you raised your brows.

“Well then, shouldn't I get half of the winnings? Since I helped you to victory, and all..” Newt let you go when you reached the van, the tables being folded away by the staff, but there were medical supplies piled high in the entrance to the ambulance, and you had to pack them all away correctly, and double-check over the doses of medicines, in such a high-risk area for theft.

“Tell you what, I’ll buy you a cocktail with half the winnings, if you come on a double date with me and Derek?” You chuckled, unsure whether or not he was serious, and an odd look passed over newt’s face, the blond scratching at his jaw and avoiding your eye.

“A double date, really?”

“Look, you already know Derek, you and he are friends. Good friends. Tommy has been my best mate since I was just a lad and always will be, and you’re my best friend too. I really like Derek, okay? I really like him, and I want him and Tommy to get along too, because they’re both so important to me, and I figure a double date makes it casual.” He shrugged, looking back up to you, curious for your opinion as his cheeks grew warm. “Is it stupid? I just felt like going out to dinner or something made for less tension than a baseball game and a pizza.”

“It’s not stupid, Newt. I’m totally down for it, sounds fun, but you’re gonna’ have to convince Thomas.” You teased, and your partner rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, I don’t gotta’ do shit if you’re on board. You have him wrapped around your little finger. You don’t even have to pucker up or bat your eyelashes, he’s already all soft on you.” Newt pouted, mocking you playfully with the words, and your guts twisted in a nervous excitement.

“I’ll talk to him about it, tomorrow morning.”

“Breakfast date?” He climbed up into the back of the van, beginning to scoop up the materials like bandages and plasters to put them away, and you started sorting through the bottles of medicine and pills that would need counting.

“Dinner date, actually.” Newt gasped falsely, holding a hand over his heart.

“Scandalous, staying over already.”

“You’re just jealous.” You shot back, his face dropping in a mock glare.

“Low blow.” He threw a roll of bandages at you, ones that bounced off of your head as you laughed at him, and rolled away to the concrete, and he pointed at them. “Go get them, and leave your attitude out there when you come back.”

You flipped him off, standing up to follow after the sealed bandages packet, and you scooped them up, glancing around the scene as two ambulances had already left, their house firetrucks following, and the third house was finishing their packing up. Brenda was packing away the coats into the van, hanging them up on the hooks inside the compartment to be washed and cleaned for later, and Minho was rolling the fire hoses back up with Jeff and Clint.

Thomas was rubbing a hand over his forehead, staring up at the building for a second, before turning, glancing around, and his eyes found yours. He paused for a second, one eye dropping in a lazy wink a moment later when he let Thomas crack through his lieutenant persona for a second, and he licked over his lips, stretching to a wide smile. He nodded his head for a second, a simple gesture but it felt like more than just that, and your lips pressed together to hold your smile, nodding your head in return, and letting your stare linger for a second longer, before going back to work.

Newt was waiting, still packing away and whistling a tune to himself as he worked, taking the bandages from you when you approached, and you hummed along in time with the tune once you recognised it enough, his eyes glinting when you did. It was an unspoken thing, a delicate symbol of friendship as the two of you worked in quiet harmony, humming along to the same song as you worked, settling in to a well worn and familiar routine that you hoped would never break.

[joongieboos]

Colder.

Genre: Angst, might make you cry. (I cried)

Trigger warnings: character death, car accidents, police mention, first responder mention, food warning.

Pairing: Huang Renjun x Lee Donghyuck, college AU.

Word count: 2k words.

Plot: Donghyuck doesn’t come home one day, and Renjun doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Tags: @sombreboy​ @spacebikerateez​ @armysantiny​ @heckydizzle​ @bisoo​ @poprock204 @hyunmintae

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“A seven-car pileup that’s stopping traffic on the freeway has now erupted into flames due to one of the vehicles being a tanker truck transporting gasoline. First responders are on the scene and attempting to stop the fire from spreading. We’ll keep you updated.” A reporter states from the helicopter from above, capturing the whole thing on camera. The news always played at home, and it would be on as white noise. There’s always something that’s going on, and he liked to be in the know. There he stood in front of the counter, chopping vegetables as he would do normally, the pans heating up for dinner as he waited for his fiancé to come home. The table was set, the candles lit, and the merlot poured in his glass, his fiancé’s glass still sitting empty on the table. 

 Sirens fill the air as the fire blazes, police, paramedics and firefighters fighting to save the people in the pile of blazing cars. There hasn’t been an explosion from any of the cars just yet and everyone fighting to save the people involved knows that no one will survive the explosion once one car decides to give up. First responders work diligently to get the cars sorted and sated of the flames, the police rerouting the people onto the off-ramp, paramedics on scene waiting for the firefighters to get those affected out, and the firefighters spraying the wetting agent onto the cars to try to subdue the rapidly charring metal. One of the cars, though, was already sparking into the fuel line, causing the fire to roar, the fuel line leading into the tank. 

 From his perspective, the liquid leaking out of the truck that was flipped beside him was his first indication. He felt himself grow colder on the inside, shivering as he tried to move to get himself out of the burning metal can. Few thoughts ran through his head, ultimately leading him to think about his fiancé who would be listening to the news at home, not paying any mind to the background noise. It had been a year that he got to know his partner better than he knew himself, and with those thoughts, he looked over to the passenger seat, this car bringing the memories of him singing with his fiancé, the countless dates and road trips that they had been on together. He felt the flames grow closer and he only grew colder, his chest filling with regret as the flowers he was bringing home to his fiancé laid on the ground, the upside-down position he was in making the cherry blossom flowers the sole thing he could focus on. 

 He shut his eyes once more and brought himself back to the first time he had met his fiancé. How he could remember it like it was yesterday, he could remember the sweater his fiancé was wearing, he could remember the colour of his hair at the time, what time they had met, where, and how they met. 

 Renjun was sitting in the small café beside their campus, the smaller boy on break from his current shift. This was his final year and he had made his way to go to one of the most popular and prestigious schools in the country. His brown apron bunched on his thighs as he brings one leg over the other. The smaller boy had his coffee and book, finally able to sit and finish this last chapter so he can start his final essay for one of his creative writing classes. 

 The bell at the entrance of the café made a little ding and a group of rowdy boys walked in, the volume of the building increasing exponentially. ‘Great…’ Renjun mumbles to himself, the only reason he took his break was the peace and quiet so he could read. 

 ‘Might as well go back to work…I can’t leave Jisung alone to deal with these orders.’

 He sighs and gets up, his feet moving hastily so he can get back behind the cash and help the group of loud boys. “Hi! Welcome to the Teaspoon! What can I get you today?” He fakes a smile and a customer service voice, now taking the orders of the three boys before one of them. The one going last smiles and it lights up, a small hum coming from him as he goes over the menu situated on the wall above the smaller baristas head, a plethora of machines behind him. 

 “Surprise me, yeah?”

The smaller barista is taken aback and smiles back to him, nodding.

“Alright, any allergies?”

The other shakes his head.

“Perfect, we’ll get your order made right away.” 

 The other male smiles down at the barista and pays the difference, now going over to the group.

 “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, it’ll be done in about five minutes.”

 The smaller barista quickly gets to work, now working on all the beverages for the group. For the last drink, he had decided on an iced passion fruit tea lemonade. Making the decision to give him a nickname, before finishing the drink, he goes and writes something fitting, something easy to remember. The barista passed all the drinks out when they’re all finished, his hand covering the nickname. He lets it go and goes to help another customer who’s lined up and takes her order.

The boy with the tea smiles at him before leaving the café and noticing the nickname. He grins, one of the boys in the group now noticing and asking what he’s smiling at.

“The sun.”

 He smiles, another tear dripping off his face.

 ‘The sun.’

A nickname that was given to him for his smile and bright personality that could light up whatever room he went in. 

 Coming back the next day, the boy with the smile like the sun came looking for the barista he was so intrigued by. Though, unbeknownst to him, the barista was off for the next few days due to the copious amount of schoolwork he had to do. This didn’t stop the sunshine boy from coming in daily, waiting for him, ordering the same thing. He would come in and use the excuse of wanting that barista to make his coffee for him, claiming that he made it better than anyone else.

Four days later, the boy had come back and was greeted by his favourite barista.

 “Welcome to the Teaspoon! What can I get for you today?” The barista says with a smile, his entire demeanour changing when he sees the sunshine boy from a few days ago. “How was your drink a few days ago? It was you who asked me to surprise you, right?”

 The sunshine boy smiles, Donghyuck laughing slightly. “That was me, I couldn’t decide but what you made was delicious. Do you wanna surprise me again? It was probably one of the best drinks I’ve had in a while.”

 The compliment makes the barista grin, and he tries not to show the pride that’s blooming in his chest. “I’d like that, did you want a coffee or a tea, today?”

 “Your choice.”

“Bold of you to trust me.”

“You haven’t failed me yet.”

“I don’t plan on failing you.”

 If only they knew at the time that he said that, that the sentence he had spoken would stay with the sunshine boy for the rest of his life. And it was true. Renjun wasn’t one to fail others, especially those he cares about.

Looking back to the first responders, Donghyuck had felt an array of emotions; anger, sadness, regret, longing, remorse, and what hurt the most was the acceptance that he had come to when he knew he wouldn’t be able to be saved. He had noticed the quiet sound of air flowing out of a hose, and with that sound, everything drowned out. He was pulled back into the memories of him and his fiancé, and the time that the two of them had spent together. His eyes shut and the air from the hose got louder, a single tear slipping down his face as he trembled, his final words dripping from between his lips.

 “Huang Renjun, I will always love you,” He had whispered, the puddle of gasoline igniting beside him.

 With that, time was up.

 The cars erupted in a magnificent roar, the only people to survive being the first responders who weren’t anywhere close to the vehicles which were now charred. 

 Renjun had been cooking, and hours had passed, the worry that was building in his mind, he had sat at the dinner table. He sat, looking at the empty seat in front of him and had finished the bottle of wine that was sitting on the table. With a sigh, he had gotten up and brought his plate to the sink, the food untouched as he put everything he had made into containers for leftovers. While cleaning, a knock on the door had pulled him out of his trance and his legs brought him to the door; there stood two police officers whose faces were stoic but showed some semblance of regret. 

 “Mr. Huang Renjun, may we come in?” 

 His voice was as stoic as his face was, and Renjun had let the two officers in, a pit in his stomach growing into something that felt like it was eating him alive. The two officers had him seated back in the kitchen and he had been staring into nothing, the words that the officers had just spoken breaking him from the inside out. He looked over to where his fiancé would sit, the silence in the room deafening. Everything eventually started spinning and his ears started ringing. The room went cold, the previously warm and loving home he and his fiancé had built for each other now crumbling and breaking down into the frigid and abandoned building. Looking towards the police officers, his face went blank, and tears streamed down his face. The police officers had taken this time to leave a few brochures and escort themselves out. 

 This house had so many reminders of the love of his life:

 The candle on the table, the shirt Renjun was wearing, the ring on his finger, the shampoo that they had both used just that morning, even the day. Their anniversary. Renjun needed some time to think, think about what’s happening, what’s coming next, what he would do. The male sat in silence; the door unlocked after the police officers showed themselves to the door. What was the smaller male to do now? 

 The news hit him with a wave of exhaustion, him now being in the same spot as he was. Was he to love again? No, surely not. He was promised to his twin flame, his person, his everything. He got up and wandered around the house aimlessly, his hands fumbling with each other as the ring he had on his finger twists. “Donghyuck… baby it’s time for dinner, it’s time to eat, and I made your favourite…” he calls out, his voice cracking and his heart breaking when he looks to the door. “Donghyuck, welcome home, my love… happy anniversary, my sun.” 

 This is the sentence that makes him break, finally dropping to his knees, his sobs loud and coarse. After a little while, his sobs exhaust him and he lays where he dropped down, his body aching as he tries to shift in his spot. Renjun can’t be bothered to move, his entire reason for existence now gone. He manages to shift onto his back, eventually just falling asleep in this spot. 

The next morning he gets up and manages to stand, being faced with photos all around his home of him and his fiance. His body seemed to move by itself, bringing him to their shared bedroom, the room untouched. He looks around, feeling his heart shatter all over again.

“Life seems to be much colder now that the sun is gone…”

[jaskierswolf]

Hello, dearest Wolfie 💜 I come before you with this prompt: hair stylist Jaskier (netflix) with Dandelion (book). Maybe they’re strangers at the salon, maybe they’re friends or roommates in the house bathroom or home salon? Dandy’s particularly sensitive to touch/hair pulling and might accidentally moan while Jask is massaging his scalp 👀 Can get as horny you as you want it to

This fic comes to you courtesy of vodka... so apologies for errors? I did try and proof read.

1.5k of smutty bards.

CW: 18+, masturbation, hair pulling kink, talks of blow jobs and anal,

Dandelion squirmed in his chair feeling strangely nervous. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his roommate, because honestly if anyone could cut hair well it would be Jaskier, but he’d never let anyone except his hairdresser cut his hair before. Unfortunately with lockdown rules, that was no longer an option and Dandelion’s hair was getting ratty at the ends, despite his meticulous hair care routine. It was making him irritable and he’d kept snapping at Jaskier over the smallest of things. He knew he was being a bastard but it wasn’t his fault. He missed people and going outside. He missed their gigs and even their shifts at the coffee shop. Fortunately, Jaskier seemed to know him better than he knew himself at times and the brunet had marched him into the kitchen and pushed him down into one of the chairs, demanding that he sit still whilst Jaskier got the scissors.

Dandelion pouted whilst he waited. He didn’t appreciate being told what to do but Jaskier was right. He desperately needed a hair cut. His hair was now halfway down his back instead of sitting just below his shoulders. He whined and covered his face with his hands.

“Right, got everything!” Jaskier announced as he bundled back into the room, arms full of bottles from their bath room. “I’ve always wanted to play at being a hair dresser.”

Dandelion sighed and raised an eyebrow at his friend. “If you want to wash my hair then we’re going to the bathroom. You can put those back,” he gestured to the shampoo bottles with a flick of his wrist. “I’ll go for a shower first.”

Jaskier snorted and put his hands on his hips, tossing his fringe from his eyes. “We are doing this properly! I get to wash your hair too.”

They stared at each other for a moment, almost identical blue eyes glaring at each other across the room, until Dandelion sighed dramatically. “Fine, but afterwards I am cutting your fringe. It’s driving me mad! You keep messing with it!”

Jaskier pouted back at him. “You. You don’t mean that.”

“I do, now come on my dear, before I change my mind.”

The move to the bathroom did nothing to calm Dandelion’s nerves. If anything it made it worse. Jaskier kept fiddling with the edge of his shirt and moving the shampoo bottles about as Dandelion sat at the edge of their bathtub.

“Let me know if the water is too hot or too cold or. or… whatever,” Jaskier muttered as he pulled the hose off the wall.

Dandelion nodded, leaning awkwardly back so his head was mostly over the tub. He heard the spray of water running and Jaskier ended up squatting awkwardly in the bath behind him, trying to avoid the water beneath his feet.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through?” Jaskier stammered with an awkward laugh.

“Jask,” Dandelion sighed. “Get on with it.”

The water was hot, prickling against his scalp; just how he liked it. He hummed happily at the sensation and he felt the weight of his damp hair shift as Jaskier made sure his whole head was wet through. God he’d missed this. Yes it was more awkward with the weird set up they had in the cramped bathroom instead of the specially made sinks at the hair dressers but he’d always felt pampered. He enjoyed the luxury of someone else washing his hair. It felt intimate, almost sensual.

It didn’t help that his scalp was unbelievably sensitive, always had been, great in the bedroom, less great when getting his hair done, but he’d always managed to keep his reactions under control.

Until now.

Jaskier’s fingers dragged along his scalp, working the shampoo into the roots of his hair. His entire body immediately felt like it was on fire and he let out a low moan.

Jaskier froze.

Dandelion’s eyes flew open.

Nobody said a word for what felt like forever, until Jaskier started to massage his scalp, slowly, tugging gently at his hair to run the shampoo through to the ends. It felt heavenly, Dandelion closed his eyes once more and let himself enjoy the sensation. Jaskier had long musician’s fingers, just like him, and they were magical. It was less of a hair wash and more of a head massage now and Dandelion couldn’t help the breathy moans that escaped his lips.

He was hard by the time Jaskier turned the shower back on to rinse out the shampoo. Neither of them mentioned it but Dandelion knew that Jaskier had noticed. It was too obvious how much he’d been enjoying it for Jaskier not to have noticed.

Jaskier repeated the process with the conditioner, spending more time running his hands through the tips of Dandelion’s hair this time, making sure the conditioner had properly covered them, but the gentle tugs at Dandelion’s hair were like sweet torture. Until he felt Jaskier’s fingers back on his scalp, firm pressure on the most sensitive parts of his scalp.

Dandelion moaned again, unable to help himself. “Jask,” he gasped, voice hoarse “please.”

Jaskier hummed. “Please what, darling?”

“I… I want.”

Jaskier chuckled and his fingers brushed the tips of Dandelion’s ear. He shivered and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Jaskier just pressed a kiss to his forehead, the bastard was really taking advantage of the situation but… Dandelion had been lusting after his roommate for months so he wasn’t complaining.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Jaskier cooed, pulling a fistful of Dandelion’s hair just hard enough that he could feel a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

Dandelion just whined, his tongue heavy in his mouth, words but a distant memory. He just needed, wanted, desired…

“Do you want my hand on your cock?” Jaskier asked, his voice a husky whisper in Dandelion’s ear as he fingers continued to press against his scalp. “or perhaps you’d prefer my mouth?”

Dandelion moaned, a low guttural moan that should have been embarrassing in its desperation but he was too far gone. “Yes.”

“Touch yourself for me,” Jaskier’s breath tickled his ear “imagine how good it would feel to have my mouth, warm and wet around your cock?”

Dandelion scrambled to unzip his trousers. He gasped as he finally managed to get his cock free, spitting on his hand before slowly starting to stroke his length. It wasn’t nearly as good as having Jaskier’s pretty pink lips around him but with Jaskier’s voice in his ear and his fingers rubbing into his scalp, Dandelion was a wreck. Every time Jaskier’s fingers moved in his hair he felt like the room was on fire, his heart was thundering in his chest and his skin was itching with the heat of his arousal.

He thrust up into his hand with a gasp, biting his lip.

“How long would it take before you’re begging me to fuck you?” Jaskier nipped at his ear, a sharp pain that only heightened his pleasure as he ran his thumb over his slit. “Or would you prefer to cum in my mouth?”

Dandelion could picture it so clearly, Jaskier kneeling at his feet, Dandelion’s cock in his mouth, the contented hums as he sucked and licked at the dick, every sound vibrating around Dandelion until he came down Jaskier’s throat, the brunet would swallow up every last drop, and the smirk on his face, so bloody smug like he’d won the fucking lottery.

God he would be so beautiful.

Dandelion keened, fucking into his own hand, wishing it were Jaskier’s but not wanting to lose the sensation of Jaskier’s fingers running through his hair. He pumped himself harder, feeling the familiar pull as his orgasm draw near, warmth flooding his body, moans and wordless cries falling from his lips.

“That’s it, darling, cum for me…” Jaskier purred in his ear, another tug at Dandelion’s hair.

Dandelion whined as he came all over his hand, collapsing forwards, his clean hand pressing against the cool tiled floor. Jaskier’s voice coaxed him through his orgasm, cooing praises in his ear, hands still loosely in Dandelion’s damp hair.

“Bloody hell…” he muttered as he came back to his senses.

“Fuck, Dandy, if we could record the noises you make, we could make a million pounds over night,” Jaskier whispered, sounding almost as fucked out as Dandelion felt. “You’re so beautiful.”

Dandelion hummed, feeling rather too blissful to answer.

“Let’s finish rinsing your hair then I’ll cut it for you,” Jaskier pressed a kiss to his temple “and then, well, I’d like to take you to bed?”

The last part came out as a question, a slight crack in Jaskier’s voice. Dandelion shook free of Jaskier’s grasp and turned to face his friend. Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed, the pink trailing down his neck and beneath his t-shirt where there was just a tease of dark chest hair peaking out at the neckline. Dandelion grinned and pulled his friend into a kiss, licking into Jaskier’s mouth and biting at his bottom lip as he pulled away. “I would like nothing more.”

______

Tag list: @frances-the-red @thecomfortofoldstorries @elliestormfound @honeysuckletook @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher @hailhailsatan @dani-dandelino  @artistsfuneral  @kittynannygaming @selectivegeekwithstandards @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @kueble @justjess94 @skai6 @damatris @wherethewordsare @dapandapod @mayastormborn @jaskierslastbraincell

[dansantat]

44 (The Annual Birthday Rant)

THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT I EVER RECEIVED FROM A STRANGER

What I’m about to tell you all happened about twelve days ago.

I was walking outside of my local grocery store when an African American man approached me. He slowly approached with a wide grin on his face and was dressed in an old brown secondhand suit that was a few sizes too big. Although his physique indicated he was maybe ten to fifteen years older than me he looked much older and worn. He had a story to tell

“Now, I’m not gonna hurt cha,” the man said.

I stood and smiled hesitantly.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

“You probably don’t remember me, but we met before… a few years back.”

I searched through my mind, but found nothing. “Oh really? Where did we meet? A book store event? A school?”

The man stopped his approach. He stood safely about ten feet away.

“We met here.”

My mind still drew a blank.

“Anyway, sir, I don’t want to take up too much of your time…. But I wanted to give you this…”

He reached into the pocket of his oversized suit and slowly pulled out a healthy wad of nicely folded cash.

And then in that instant. I remembered.

It happened two years ago in 2017. I bought groceries and was carrying the bags to my car. A homeless African American man wearing tattered clothes hobbled with a limb over in my direction. He was in rough shape. He clearly hadn’t showered in weeks and his body appeared gaunt, and malnourished.

“Hey, man, I was wonderin’ if you could spare some change?” he asked.

I placed my groceries into the trunk of my car and pulled out my wallet. I had just gone to the ATM because I was going to go out to breakfast with some friends after dropping off the groceries at home.

I pulled out a $20 and gave it to the man. His eyes popped open wide and a huge grin crossed his face. I would typically only give a few dollars in a situation like this, but today was special.

“Aw, thank you, sir, I really appreciate it! God bless!”

Just as he was about to walk away I stopped him.

“Wait,” I hollered, “Hold up.”

The man turned and looked back at me. I paused for a moment thinking about what I was about to do.

“*sigh* Today’s your lucky day.” I said

I opened my wallet and gave him all the cash that was inside.

“Here. Take it all.”

The man was flabbergasted. “Wh-….. What?”

“You look like you need it way more than I do. There’s about $400 here… Just take it.”

“Wh…wh…why are you doing this?” he stammered

I paused for a moment. Was I really doing the right thing? You hear people tell you not to give money to homeless people because they’ll just go use that money to buy drugs or alcohol, but I proceeded with my decision, “It’s my birthday today, and every year I always make it a point to do something special for someone to make their day better, and today you’re the lucky person, I guess.”

The first time I ever decided to be generous on my birthday was at a local car wash on my 35th birthday. Now, I never found much value in the machines that car washing facilities provide. Those contraptions that you would drive your car though to get washed. It was simply a series of spray hoses and soap suds being lazily dragged over your car by a set of waving rags. The real cleaning job was done from the guy after that process. The guy who would drive your car off to a dry corner of the lot and scrub off those tough stains with a spray bottle and a towel. Here in LA, they were most likely illegal immigrants earning a measly wage just enough to get by here in Los Angeles (one of the most expensive cities in the country) The man who cleaned my car that day spent a half hour wiping off the dashboard, and the tires, and even parts of the door joints you wouldn’t normally expect a car wash employee to clean. The guy was cleaning my car better than I would have ever done myself, and when I approached the car it was absolutely immaculate.

The car wash was only $19.

That day, I gave the man $40.

He was so grateful he shook my hand with a smile, and in exchange I felt amazing. I helped make his day a good one and it was an absolutely wonderful feeling.

Ever since then I try to do something kind for someone on my birthday. It’s my gift to myself.

In the years following I would give $40 tips to waitresses, $60 tips to a trio of buskers, I once bought an entire box of candy from a kid who rang my doorbell trying to save up money for camp. That was about $75.

But this was $400. What the hell was I doing?

The man waved off the money. “$400?! That’s too much,” he responded, “I can’t accept all that! A dude gets stabbed on the streets carrying that kind of cash around”

“I want you to have it, and I don’t want to sound rude, but you look like you need this money way more than I do.”

He stood hesitant. His own pride was preventing him from taking the money.

“What are you doing with that much cash on you? You a doctor or something?”

“HAHA! No, but there was a time my parents wished I was.”

The man looked at me with a hint of suspicion.

“You’re crazy. How do you know I’m not gonna go use this to go buy crack or something like that?”

“HA HA! Are you?” I laughed. The thought of the possibility of my own hard earned money being used to buy illegal drugs was somewhat humorous to me at the time.

“N- NO! NO! I won’t! I promise! But are you sure you want to give me all this? I don’t even know you.”

I hesitated, half thinking for a split second that I would perhaps reconsider and just give him an extra $20, but what would an extra $20 do for a man who needed so much more help than that? What if he had enough money to change his course in life if he really wanted to? From that perspective, $400 seemed like just a drop in the bucket. 

But maybe it was also a start?

“I’m not sure, but I know that no matter how you got into this situation, I know it’s not because you’re a bad person. You’ve probably just hit a string of bad luck.Hell, for all I know maybe you WILL blow all this money on booze and drugs, I don’t know… But what I am hoping, is that it gives you a chance to get back on your feet if you really want to…”

The man glanced back at the money.

“Take it. No strings attached. Do whatever you want with it. Buy booze or crack or whatever you want with it. I’m not gonna lecture you on how to live your life because, dude, you’re already totally down on your luck and I think that you just deserve a little kindness. You know the mistakes you’ve made and you don’t need to explain yourself to me or anyone. I just thought this money would help make things a little bit easier for you, that’s all.”

The man looked away for a moment. His lower lip trembling. Then he slowly glanced back and took the money.

“Thank you….. God Bless you, sir. I really appreciate it.”

“Take care of yourself.” I replied as he walked away.

The man walked away and never looked back.

Now here we are.

Two years later.

Standing in the same parking lot in front of the same grocery store.

My jaw drops open.

“Holy shit! I remember you! You’re that guy! LOOK AT YOU! I DON’T EVEN RECOGNIZE YOU!” I shouted.

“Now you remember me, right!? HA HA!”

This man’s voice once a whisper was now strong and deep as if his lungs consumed every molecule of oxygen around him and projected it out like water from a fire hose. He was no longer gaunt, but healthy, if not slightly overweight. His hair was clean and trimmed, but he still carried himself awkwardly with a shaky newfound confidence that now occupied a body that once resembled a dilapidated house.

“You look amazing! Where have you been!?”

“Aw man, It’s a long story-“

“I’ve got time!”

“Well-“ he hesitated

And then I paused.

“Wait. I’m- I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just want you to know that I’m really REALLY proud of you, man. I know we don’t know each other, but dude, you’ve completely changed. I don’t even recognize you. You look amazing.”

There was an awkward pause in our conversation. We were like two friends who had just reunited after a long absence, but suddenly also realized at that moment that we were also two complete strangers who knew nothing about one other. The man took a deep breath, “I’ve been coming around to this grocery store every now and then hoping I would run into you…I’d stand out here waiting for you for a half hour or so hoping you’d come by to buy groceries… I wanted to thank you for the kindness you showed me a few years back and… and I wanted to finally pay you back.”

He grabs my hand and presses the nicely folded bills into my hand. The folds and creases tell me they’ve been sitting folded like this for quite a while.

“$400. Every cent of it.”

“Hey, you don’t need to do this. It was my pleasure. I’m glad the money helped, you can keep it.” I reply.

“Well… “ he paused, “I don’t want it. Too many painful memories from it.. That day you gave me that money I took it and I used it all to get high.”

“Oh…Shit… I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have-”

“And afterwards there were some more really rough months after that. I felt so ashamed. I hated myself and I didn’t wanna live no more so one day I couldn’t take it anymore and I went over to the Colorado Street Bridge and I was gonna climb the fence and jump off…. I was gonna kill myself and end it all… but I chickened out.”

(FYI, The Colorado Street Bridge is the bridge you see in the movie, LA LA LAND)

“Man, I was so scared, and I was crying on the ground and I was thinking about my wife leavin’ me… and how I let my son down, and now he had his own son.. you see, I’m a grandfather, and I got so messed up I couldn’t be around any of them, you know?”  

Meanwhile, my groceries were sitting in the hot car. My milk was going to go bad, but I continued to hang on to his every word.

“So shortly after that incident the cops pick me up off the side of the bridge and they take me to this local homeless shelter. I get cleaned up, I get a little something to eat, and then later on that evening they gathered us all around in the cafeteria at one point and they read us this story called, After the Fall.”

I was shocked.

“Wait... What? That’s my book.” I responded

“Yeah, I know! The book changed my life, man! Humpty Dumpty finding the courage to change his life like that? It inspired me! It made me want to change! And so I see your name on the cover and one day I went to the library with my social worker to look up more of your books and I see your picture in one of the books and I thought, HOLY SHIT! That’s the guy who gave me the $400! I recognize those eyebrows from anywhere! This is a sign from God!”

“HAHAHA!”

“So, I’m getting’ all psyched up and inspired and the social worker helped me get me a sponsor, and after a while I got myself cleaned up and started working around town. I used to be a carpenter, and I was doin’ odd jobs here and there and so now I work at a hardware store.” 

He pauses for a moment and takes another deep breath.

“You see, I got myself a work related injury years ago and I had to stop working. Then when my insurance wore out I was still in pain and I started trying to find any kind of drugs I could to help with the pain, man. It was awful. I got addicted to painkillers, over time it cost me my marriage, I lost my house, and my kid moved away and he started a family of his own…. I haven’t seen my kid in years. They all wanted to help but you can only be helped if you want to be helped, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry to hear that, man”

The man begins to cry a little

“And I knew they cared about me, but…. But I let them down, and there’s just a point when the people you love just can’t stand seeing you hurt yourself no more, and they couldn’t stand watching me tear myself apart like that, you know?”

The man’s story cuts me like a knife. I’m starting to well up with tears. We’re now two strangers crying in front of each other in the middle of a grocery store parking lot. The manager of the grocery store who I see often sees us crying outside 

“Is everything okay here guys?”

“Yeah yeah yeah, We’re good. We’re just talking,” I rapidly answer as I wipe tears from my cheek. The manager walks back inside.

“…Uh… Weird question… You know my name now, but, do you mind if I ask you your name?”

“…I’m Randall.”

“Well, I’m glad you got your life back together, Randall. I’m sorry about all that stuff that happened with your family but I think what you accomplished with getting your life back together was huge and, I mean, I don’t know you, but man, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, brother. I just wanted to see you in person so I could give you back that money… oh, and I was hoping you could sign this for me….”

Randall reaches inside his oversized brown suit and pulls out a copy of After the Fall and hands it to me with a pen.

“I’ve been carrying this around with me for a few months now hoping I’d see you. The shelter gave it to me. Would you mind signing it?” he asks.

“I’d be honored, Randall… Do you want me to make it out to you?”

“Please make it out to Randall the Third”

“Wait… your grandson?”

“I’m going out to see my son and his family next week. They live out in Arizona.”

“That’s amazing. Are you nervous?”

“I’m excited to see my grandson, but I’m terrified I could screw things up with my family again.” Randall mutters.

“Well, you made it this far. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just take it one step at a time.” I reply.

“Just like Humpty did. One step at a time.” says Randall.

I sign the book...

To Randall III, Your grandfather is a true inspiration to me.

Dan Santat

“Thank you, God bless.”

“No, Randall, thank you. This was the most amazing birthday gift I think I’ve ever received.”

“Oh, it’s your birthday today?!”

“No, it’s in twelve days. Heh… it’s when my milk expires”

“Oh shit. I should let you get going man, I’m sorry I took up all your time!”

“No, man. No! I’m so glad you did this and that we could catch up... and…. Here.”

I pull out the $400 and I hand it back to Randall.

“What are you doin?”

“I know you don’t need this, so I’m not giving you this money. Get something nice for your family, you know, a housewarming gift or something, that’s all. If you ever want to pay me back you know where to find me.”

In this parking lot.

In front of this grocery store.

“Use it to buy a huge ass teddy bear for Randall the Third. Shit get him a Playstation 4 or something I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned you worked so hard to get where you are now and you earned every cent of this. This money should be yours”  

“HA HA HA! Aw sheeeeeeit….Thank you, brother.”  

I grab Randall’s hand and I place the nicely folded wad of cash into his palm. 

“Well, I should get goin’…” Randall says.

“Yeah, me too.”

Then after a few quiet moments we exchange a hug.

“Thank you, Dan Santat…. God Bless you.” Randall whispers

“Take care” I reply

We complete our goodbyes and then head off in our own opposite directions.

I’ve received lots of amazing gifts over my 44 years, but never one as incredible as the rebirth and transformation of Randall.

Peace.

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE - MON AMOUR (S01E02)

Heather Darden: Okay, guys, let’s get you whatever you want, 

                             okay?

Kelly Severide: Heather.

Darden Boys: Hi Kelly!

Kelly Severide: Hey! Hey! Hey, guys. 

Heather Darden: [nervous laugh] Okay, okay, kids, let’s go in 

                             [nervous laugh].

Kelly Severide: Hey, how are you doing?

Heather Darden: I’m good, Kelly. I gotta go in.

Kelly Severide: Uh…H-H-Hey…Wait, I’ve…been meaning to come 

                           by and…

Heather Darden: Just save it, really.

Kelly Severide: Come on. Andy and I were…

Heather Darden: Stop…right there. Andy never even would have 

                             been a firefighter if it weren’t for you.

                                            [somber music]

                                   [siren wailing in the distance]

                                               cutscene

                                            [siren wailing]

Landlady: Didn’t I tell you, don’t plug nothing in? Look at this! 

                                        [indistinct chatter]

Landlady: You know what time it is?

                  But you want to play, Mr. Flamethrower, huh? What y’all 

                  lookin’ at?  

                  You better pray for him.

                                     [firetruck door shut]

Landlady: You know what, you in a world of trouble now.

Matt Casey: Smells like a grease fire.

Jose Vargas: We’ll bring the ANSULS. 

Matt Casey: Up on the roof, ready to vent, just in case.

Firefighter: Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: Ma’am.

Landlady: Kinda thick, ain’t you? 

                  Let ‘em in, idiot!

                                       [indistinct chatter]

                                    [door handle jiggling]

                                     [door kicked open]

Matt Casey: Sir, you gotta move out of here.

Joe Cruz: That’s it?

Matt Casey: Hit it!

Otis Zvonecek: Anything to piss off the engine.

                                 [fire extinguisher spraying]

Matt Casey: Come on, buddy, you gotta go.

Tenant: I can’t.

Matt Casey: I’m not asking.

Tenant: My hot plate caught on fire. My landlord will kill me. I got no 

              place to go. I can’t go! I can’t! I can’t! [pants]

                                             cutscene

Tenant: [coughs]

Matt Casey: Ma’am, is this your place?

Landlady: You damn right it is.

Matt Casey: That your microwave down in the basement?

Landlady: Oh, what of it?

Matt Casey: Frayed electric cord that started this. Place would’ve 

                      burned to the ground if not for this man. He’s a hero.

Otis Zvonecek: Sir, I just want to say, never seen a civilian act so 

                           bravely.

Landlady: Get over here. I was so worried about you.

Firefighter: Yo fool, that’s not what we taught you!

Kelly Severide: Hey! Candidate! One hand on the beam, candidate! 

                          I don’t care if you’re carrying a damn cow! Men die 

                          when they relax.

Matt Casey: Okay, Kelly. He gets it.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, he better.

Matt Casey: He’s right. One hand on the beam no matter what.

Peter Mills: Yeah, okay.

Gabby Dawson: Next Wednesday, can you…can you do my shift 

                            for me?

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: I have a thing.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, that should be fine.

Gabby Dawson: Oh. Right. Right.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Leslie Shay: Hey. 

Kelly Severide: I need something.

Leslie Shay: [sighs]

                     It’s the last one.

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: I mean it.

Kelly Severide: Right, it’s all good.

                                                 - Title Screen -

Otis Zvonecek: What’s with the goat?

Joe Cruz: What?

Otis Zvonecek: The Truck 81 seal, or symbol, or w-whatever it’s 

                            called, it’s a goat.

Joe Cruz: It’s a fighting goat.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, t-they’ve got Cerberus, the three-headed  

                           dog that guards the gates of hell. We got a 

                           friggin’ goat.

Kelly Severide: Morning.

Matt Casey: Morning.

Kelly Severide: Hey. How are the Darden kids doing? You talked to 

                          Heather at all?

Matt Casey: Uh, yeah. As good as can be expected, I suppose.  

                     You seem ‘em?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Matt Casey: I hear they’re coming to the barbecue.

Kelly Severide: Good.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

                                                 cutscene

                                      [knocks on doorframe]

Kelly Severide: Hey, Chief, you got a second?

Chief Boden: Sure, Kelly.

Kelly Severide: Looking for a few extra shifts this month. How’s 

                          Saturday sound?

Chief Boden: Saturday’s barbecue.

Kelly Severide: I’ve been there before.

Chief Boden: No way. Every man on deck on this one.

Kelly Severide: Chief, I could really use the cash…

Chief Boden: Ask me next month.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

                                                 cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: Hey, hey, check it out [laughs].

Joe Cruz: Oh, yeah! Best benefit all year, boys!

Jose Vargas: He’s not lying.

Mouch: We’re there when you feed us.

Joe Cruz: Hey, you know about fire fans, Peter Mills? 

Otis Zvonecek: They’re chicks who follow firemen like flies to 

                           honey.

Joe Cruz: Bees, Otis. ‘Bees to honey.’

Otis Zvonecek: Whatever, we’re still the honey.

                           Hey Lieutenant, why do we have a goat on our 

                           truck?

Matt Casey: Years ago, Truck 81’s first fire was at a goat farm in 

                      Little Italy.

Otis Zvonecek: Really?

Matt Casey: Mmhmm.

Mouch: Nah, they used to have a goat at the station, so they didn’t 

              have to mow the grass.

Otis Zvonecek: Huh. I thought that’s what candidates are for.

Joe Cruz: [snickers]

                                             [PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Smoke-eater in the house.

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, no way.

Joe Cruz: [claps]

Squad Table: [loud cheers]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey!

                                [loud cheering and clapping]

                                   [ambulance door shuts]

All: Welcome back.

Otis Zvonecek: Jeez, man.

Christopher Herrmann: They ticked a nerve in my leg. I may not 

                                         walk straight again.

Jose Vargas: Candidate, get him a chair!

                                   [chair rolling across floor]

Christopher Herrmann: Thanks, kid.

                                         Ah, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a 

                                         second fellas, are any of my kids around 

                                         here? My wife or her parents?

Otis Zvonecek: No, why?

Christopher Herrmann: What the hell? I’m healed! Ah! [cheering]  

                                         I’m healed! It must have been living with  

                                         my damn in-laws that was breaking me 

                                         down!

                                         Ah! All right, I’m not that healed.

Matt Casey: You ready to get back?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Chief Boden: Glad you’re back, Herrmann. We’re a better house  

                       with you here.

Christopher Herrmann: Thanks, Chief. 

Chief Boden: Uh, later we’re going to have a white board session 

                       about what happened in the Darden incident last  

                       month. I expect you all to be there. But on another  

                       note this is Nicki Rutkowski.

Hadley: Hello…

Chief Boden: She’s going to be working with us next month,  

                       helping out with the payroll. Her father is one  

                       of my oldest friends. We were in the Navy together,  

                       so y’all just treat her like she’s your very own…sister.

Nicki Rutkowski: Thanks for having me.

Christopher Herrmann: Welcome. Don’t screw up the checks – the 

                                         first and 15th.

Nicki Rutkowski: Oh, I will. 

                                                 [laughing]

                                               [PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Accident, multiple injuries. 

Firefighter: Let’s go!

(Over PA): Squad 3, Truck 81, Engine 51, Ambulance 61.

                                    [engine revs, sirens blaring]

                                              [horns honking]

                                              [sirens shut off]

                                            [indistinct chatter]

Kelly Severide: What’s going on?

Workman 1: The foundation collapsed, and there’s three guys  

                      down in the basement hole.

Chief Boden: I’m gonna need a 2 ½ up there.

Firefighter: On it.

Kelly Severide: Let’s go.

Workman 1: It’s over here. They’re down there.

Chief Boden: Okay.

Workman 1: The whole floor collapsed. We were pouring concrete 

                      for the second and third stories and the foundation  

                      just gave way.

Chief Boden: (into radio) There’s no fire, but let’s drop the 2 ½ into 

                        the hole…from the ladder.

                       (over radio) Cruz, hurry it up!

                                          [machine revving]

Chief Boden: (over radio) Get that hose up here.

                       (into radio) There’s good. 

                       (over radio) This area may give some more so let’s 

                       move quickly.

                       (into radio) Now charge it.

                       Okay. 

                      (over radio) Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: He’s pretty banged up, but okay. I don’t think we 

                           should move him.

Matt Casey: Dawson, you down there?

Gabby Dawson: Go for Dawson.

Matt Casey: We need you up here.

Gabby Dawson: Come on. 

                                          [chatter over radio]

Chief Boden: (over radio) Shay and Dawson are on their way down.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, that’s a first.

Workman 2/Victim 1: I’m under here! I’m under here!

Matt Casey: You okay?

Workman 2/Victim 1: [grunts]

Matt Casey: Can you sit up?

Workman 2/Victim 1: Yeah. Peter’s farther down. I heard him 

                                     talking, but I couldn’t see him!

Matt Casey: Here, take him out.

                     Peter?

Peter: I knew this was gonna be a bad day. Told my wife 

            this morning I had a premonition.

Matt Casey: Are you hurt?

Peter: I can’t breathe. Can’t move.

Matt Casey: Alright, we’ll get you out.

                     I need three pike poles and a saw!

Firefighter: Right away, Lieutenant!

                                     [indistinct chatter]

Firefighter: Ready to bring him up.

Workman 3/Victim 2: [groans and grunts]

Firefighter: Alright. Watch the wood.

Matt Casey: How you doing down there, Peter?

Peter: I’ve been better.

Kelly Severide: I’m going in.

Matt Casey: It’s unstable.

Kelly Severide: Aren’t we all?

Matt Casey: (into radio) Let’s widen the hole but get ready to pull 

                      back if this debris shifts.

Firefighter: (over radio) Message received.

Peter: Not so bad, right?

Kelly Severide: It’s Peter, right? 

                          Can you move your foot?

Peter: No, I haven’t even felt it for half an hour.

Kelly Severide: [grunts]

                           How about the rest of you?

Peter: Can’t breathe too good.

           [groans and winces]

Kelly Severide: Okay, okay.

Peter: Just…just get my foot out, I’ll be fine.

Kelly Severide: Alright, we’re gonna get you out of here.

Peter: Do me one favour.

Kelly Severide: Uh, yeah? [pants]

Peter: No lies [gasps]

Kelly Severide: Fair enough, I think you’re bleeding on the inside. 

                          Your foot is the least of your problems.

                          Casey! We need this hole opened up!

Matt Casey: On it. Go, Cruz. 

                                              [saw buzzing]

Kelly Severide: Hang on, we’ll get you back to your wife in no time.

Peter: Yeah, sure. 

Kelly Severide: You saying I got a bad poker face?

Peter: I’m saying I’d be all-in on that one. 

Kelly Severide: Well, you’re breathing and talking, so that’s good.

                              [structure rumbling and crumbling]

Matt Casey: Hold on!

                                          [indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Severide?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, fine! Get Dawson over here!

Matt Casey: Dawson!

Gabby Dawson: Here.

Kelly Severide: His lower leg is trapped. There’s internal bleeding.

Gabby Dawson: There’s no way to release it?

Kelly Severide: No.

Peter: Other than that, everything’s peachy.

Gabby Dawson: Alright, I’ll call for a trauma surgeon.

Kelly Severide: Hey, how long?

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know.

Peter: And what would a trauma surgeon do that you couldn’t? 

Kelly Severide: Take off your foot.

Gabby Dawson: This is Ambulance 61 on Med Channel 5.

Channel 5: Go ambulance 61.

Gabby Dawson: We need a trauma surgeon for a possible 

                            amputation. 

Firefighter: Easy, easy.

Workman 2/Victim 1: [groans]

Channel 5: Copy that, 61. Stand by while I shift to trauma. 

                                        [indistinct chatter]

Firefighter: Okay, pull him up.

Firefighter: Got him.

Peter: What’s your name?

Kelly Severide: Severide, Kelly. Everyone pretty much calls me 

                          Severide.

Peter: Kelly. You married, Kelly? 

Kelly Severide: No.

Peter: Don’t wait too long. My wife’s name is Georgie. Her dad 

           wanted a boy, but he kept getting girls. 

Kelly Severide: [chuckles] There was a barbershop on my street 

                          named Harris and Sons. Mr. Harris named it when 

                          his wife was pregnant with their first; ended up 

                          having five girls [laughs]

Peter: [chuckle turns into a coughing fit]

Kelly Severide: Alright, easy.

                                           [indistinct chatter]

Leslie Shay: Severide, find a vein and get this saline into him.

Kelly Severide: How long on the surgeon?

Leslie Shay: 15 minutes.

Peter: Kelly? 

Kelly Severide: Yeah?

Peter: We don’t have time for a surgeon. You’re gonna have to do  

           it. Take off the foot [pants]. Get me out of here, get me home. 

Kelly Severide: Tell that surgeon to hurry the hell up! 

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) Chopper him here if you have to!

Channel 5: Negative, 61. Your trauma surgeon’s already enroute. 

                         [structure rumbling and crumbling]

Kelly Severide: You alright?

Peter: [coughs]

Matt Casey: Severide, we need to pull back. It’s gonna give.

Peter: He’s right. Go.

Kelly Severide: Casey, I need a Sawzall!

Matt Casey: Mills, lower me a Sawzall.

Peter: Uh…[whimpers]

Kelly Severide: Hey, Peter.

Peter: Yeah, I’m st…still with you, Kelly. 

Kelly Severide: Tell me about Georgie.

Peter: [chuckles] I…I married above my head. 

Kelly Severide: [small chuckle]

Peter: Been playing catch-up ever since. 

Kelly Severide: Do you have any children.

Peter: No, w-we tried.

Matt Casey: Severide

Peter: [coughs]

                                           [saw whirrs]

Peter: Kelly? 

Kelly Severide: Yeah?

Peter: [breathing heavily] You got a phone?

                                           [siren wailing]

(Over Radio): 61, your trauma surgeon’s on scene. 

Leslie Shay: Dawson, here’s here!

Gabby Dawson: Trauma surgeon’s on his way down.

Kelly Severide: It’s a recovery now.

                                          [somber music]

                                               cutscene

                                     [firetruck door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Dawson, Shay! Get over here. We got 

                                        something for you.

                                        Come on, let’s go. Bring it out, open it up 

                                        [humming]

Leslie Shay: Ohhh.

                     Wow! 

Christopher Herrmann: Hey!

                                         [awing and cooing]

Christopher Herrmann: They obviously got their artistic talent from

                                         their mother.

Leslie Shay: That’s so lovely!

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, you guys, these are the ladies that 

                                        saved my life.

                                        Come on, give ‘em a clap.

                                                [clapping]

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, yeah!

                                               [cheering]

Leslie Shay: Thank you, guys!

                      Thank you.

                                      [clapping continues]

Christopher Herrmann: There you go.

                                               cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: All I’m just saying is, I’m more than happy to  

                          design a new seal more reflective of the truck   

                          we are. Anything besides a goat.

Christopher Herrmann: What’s he on about?

Matt Casey: He doesn’t like our crest.

Christopher Herrmann: I love that goat. That goat’s all about  

                                        reversing the curse.

Peter Mills: What curse?

Christopher Herrmann: The cubs. A goat owner cursed ‘em once,  

                                        which is why they always suck. Everyone 

                                        knows that.

Otis Zvonecek: So we have a cursed crest?

Christopher Herrmann: How the hell should I know? Leave it 

                                        alone. The goat rocks!

Otis Zvonecek: Of course you would think that.

                                            [phone ringing]

Phone Operator: Please leave a message after the tone…[beep]

Kelly Severide: Uh…[sighs]

Chief Boden: Okay. They’re good guys. 

                       Kelly. 

    ��                  After you.

District Chief Walker: Darden was entering the attic window here,  

                                     while squad 3 was conducting first floor   

                                     search rescue here. Fire started in the   

                                     basement, spread up into the kitchen. Now,   

                                     we all know fire is in a constant hunt for   

                                     oxygen. It’s why we cut our vent point away   

                                     from our entry point. No vent, and the fire’s  

                                     comin’ after us. What started in the  

                                     basement, now is looking for a way out. 

                                                        [flashback]

District Chief Walker: A larger vent cut in the back of the house,  

                                     and the fire  would have made it upstairs.

Chief Boden: Kelly.

                                                     cutscene

                                       [indistinct chatter over radio]

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, candidate, dress blues to the barbecue.

Peter Mills: Really?

Joe Cruz: The commissioner’s gonna be there, along with half the  

                  deputies and most of the chiefs. It’s a big deal.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, they cracked Herrmann last year for 

                            forgetting his cap.

Joe Cruz: Go back and read the poster. Full dress blues. 

                                                     cutscene

                               [car drives by and comes to a stop]

Hallie Thomas: Double crown moulding? No expense spared on 

                          that.

Matt Casey: Yeah, well, it’s getting there.

Hallie Thomas: You’re never gonna want to leave.

Matt Casey: All depends on what the offer is.

                     So what’s up? 

Hallie Thomson: I said I would bring a dessert to the barbecue. I  

                             understand if you don’t want me to go.

Matt Casey: No, you should come. We should go together.

Hallie Thomson: You sure?

Matt Casey: Yeah. Heather Darden’s bringing the boys. 

Hallie Thomson: Well, good. This will be fun.

Matt Casey: I’ll pick you up at 2.

Hallie Thomas: Okay. 

                                            [engine drives off]

                                                  cutscene

Leslie Shay: There’s Willie, our favourite doorman!

                      Willie!

Doorman (Willie): Hey ladies!

Gabby Dawson: Willie! Hey!

Leslie Shay: Ah. I should flash him next time. Love that guy.

Gabby Dawson: Unprofessional.

(Over radio): Ambulance 61, battery, 71 West Superior.

Leslie Shay: (into radio) Ambulance 61, responding.

                                          [sirens blaring]

Leslie Shay: Alright, alright, give us some room. Give us some 

                     room. Come on.

                                       [indistinct chatter]

Drunk Man: I just…I’ll sue everyone. [indistinct ramblings] You go  

                     home. Just back. Go back to wherever you…

Leslie Shay: Uh, huh.

Drunk Man: [slurs]…wherever you came from. I’m not…

Gabby Dawson: You got a nasty cut there.

Drunk Man: Eh, get your hands off me!

Gabby Dawson: Hey, we’re with the CFD, sir, here to fix you up.

Drunk Man: Fix me up? No! No, it’s these Irish inbreeds you   

                     should be fixing up. I’ve got four brothers, and 

                     they’re both…

Leslie Shay: Ugh!

Drunk Man: They’re…both of them are gonna…they’re gonna own 

                     this place.

Leslie Shay: Hey, what happened here? 

Bartender: No one here saw anything.

Drunk Man: It’s called a black and tan!

Bartender: It’s called a half and half, you moron!

Drunk Man: Ireland sucks! 

                     [singing] God save our gracious queen. Long live our 

                     n…

Someone from crowd: Oh shut up, you tosser!

                          [indistinct shouting and glass smashing]

Gabby Dawson: Let’s…let’s move him now, alright?

                             Alright, come on.

Drunk Man: [singing] God save the queen.

Gabby Dawson: Yup, we’re going. Let’s go.

Someone from crowd: Shut your mouth!

Bartender: Piss off!

Leslie Shay: Let’s go! Move over!

Gabby Dawson: Move. Move, guys.

Bartender: Don’t come back!

Someone from crowd: Piss off!

Someone from crowd: Get out of here.

                                       [siren wailing]

Leslie Shay: Oh come on!

Gabby Dawson: Come on!

Drunk Man: Alright, okay, I’m…

Patrol Officer 1: We got this.

Leslie Shay: Thank God. Have fun in there.

Drunk Man: [singing] O Lord our God…

Gabby Dawson: You gotta give it a rest and hold still, sir!

Drunk Man: Black and tan. Black and tan. Black and tan. Bl…

                     Hello, sweet cheeks.

Gabby Dawson: [yelps] Hey! Get your hands off me!

Leslie Shay: Whoa! Whoa! 

Drunk Man: [snores]

Leslie Shay: So you’re gonna bring that doctor to the barbecue?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, I don’t know.

Leslie Shay: Honestly, not every decision has to be an act of  

                     congress. Just keep it simple.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: Oh, did you hear about Hallie and Casey?

Gabby Dawson: What? What?

Leslie Shay: Whoa!

Gabby Dawson: Stop it. Tell me. What is it?

Leslie Shay: Nothing, just some rumours running around that, uh, 

                      that maybe they’re splitting up. He’s moved out.

Gabby Dawson: What? No, really?

Leslie Shay: It’s just what I’ve heard.

                      Okay, what do you think?

Gabby Dawson: Nice work.

                                            [giggling]

                                            cutscene

                                            [giggling]

Nurse: Wow [snorts], where’d you find this one?

Drunk Man: [snores]

Leslie Shay: Dawson was actually making out with him and, uh, he  

                     fainted and bumped his head.

Gabby Dawson: When he wakes up, tell him I said thanks for a 

                            great time.

Nurse: Uh, huh. Alright.

Hallie Thomas: Ladies.

Leslie Shay: Speak for yourself.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, Hallie.

Hallie Thomas: You guys going to the barbecue?

Leslie Shay: Wouldn’t miss it.

Hallie Thomas: Matt and I are bringing his aunt’s famous   

                           brownies. At least she always tells me 

                           they’re famous. I will see you there.

Gabby Dawson: Nice intel. 

                            Thanks.

Leslie Shay: Sorry.

Dr. Mike: Gabby.

Gabby Dawson: Mike, hi.

Dr. Mike: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: Hi.

Dr. Mike: How are you?

Gabby Dawson: I’m…good. 

Dr. Mike: Yeah?

Gabby Dawson: Good. 

Dr. Mike: Good.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, uh, say, what are you doing on Saturday?

                          ��                     Cutscene

                                                 [music]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey! Lee Henry! I’m not gonna tell you  

                                        again! Put the stick down before I beat 

                                        you with it!

Vargas, Cruz & Otis: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What was that?

Jose Vargas: Take it easy.

Christopher Herrmann: You gotta be fair but firm.

Joe Cruz: [chuckles]

Jose Vargas: Okay. 

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah!

Otis, Cruz, Mouch, Vargas, Herrmann: Hoh, oh. Oh, ho, hoh! 

                                                                 [clapping] Yes! 

Jose Vargas: Nice!

                                                [cheering]

Joe Cruz: Fabulous!

Peter Mills: Howdy.

Otis Zvonecek: When’s the parade, candidate?

Peter Mills: Ha ha, that’s a good one. Good one, Otis.

Joe Cruz: Hey! You, uh, taking collections for the salvation army?

                                               [laughing]

Christopher Herrmann: Got ice cream?

Peter Mills: That’s original. That’s really good.

Brunette: Excuse me, are you the captain?

Otis Zvonecek: Well, no, miss. He’s actually the commissioner.

Peter Mills: No, no, no, no I’m not.

Brunette: Really?

Otis Zvonecek: No, Yeah, yeah he is. He’s the youngest one in 

                           Chicago history.

Brunette: Wow.

Otis Zvonecek: Go show her where the beer cooler is, 

                          commissioner.

Brunette: I’d like that.

Peter Mills: Alright.

                    Right this way.

Christopher Herrmann: Wow.

Otis Zvonecek: What?

Joe Cruz: So you’re his wingman now?

Otis Zvonecek: Karma.

Hadley: [laughing] He’s sitting there [laughing]…with a napkin on   

              his face sticking his tongue through it, and I’m like,  

              “dude, you are my favourite 12-year-old.”

                                          [laughing]

Capp: Who would do that?

Hadley: What’s up with you?

Kelly Severide: Nothing. All good.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] [whistles]

Christopher Herrmann: Oh, you and her? 

Otis Zvonecek: Mmhmm.

Christopher Herrmann: No chance.

Otis Zvonecek: Up yours.

Leslie Shay: Hey Corrinne. 

                                             [laughing]

Otis Zvonecek: [exasperated sigh]

Chief Boden: If anybody does anything, okay?

Nicki Rutkowski: You got it.

Chief Boden: Yeah? You sure?

Nicki Rutkowski: I promise.

Chief Boden: Huh, I don’t trust these guys.

                                 [children in the background]

Matt Casey: Mind if we squeeze in?

Gabby Dawson: Hmm…Of course.

Leslie Shay: Hey, guys. Um, this is Corrinne. She just moved here

                     from um... [snaps fingers] 

Corrinne: Alabama.

Matt Casey: Nice to meet you [chuckles]

Leslie Shay: I knew it.

Hallie Thomas: So, I think I saw the result of some of your work 

                          yesterday. 

Gabby Dawson: Ohh.

Dr. Mike: T-The lipstick? And the fingernails? That was you guys?

Leslie Shay: Yeah, well Dawson got her ass squeezed by a drunken 

                      Englishman [giggles]

Dr. Milk: Ooh.

Matt Casey: You gotta quit flirting with your patients.

Gabby Dawson: So we prettied him up a little.

Corrinne: So not something you learn in med school, I take it?

Leslie Shay: We’re paramedics so we don’t go to fancy med 

                      school. 

                      Although…

Hallie Thomas: What? 

Gabby Dawson: Uh, been taking some pre-med classes.

Dr. Mike: Really?

Hallie Thomas: That’s great. 

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, I mean, you know it’s a…it’s a long way off.

Hallie Thomas: Hey, any time you wanna walk a shift with me, say 

                          the word.

Gabby Dawson: That sounds great.

Hallie Thomas: Anytime.

Dr. Mike: Or with me.

Matt Casey: Hey Heather’s here, let’s go say hello.

Darden boys: Hey Matt!

Matt Casey: What’s going on? Good to see you, buddy.

Heather Darden: I just…it’s hard on Ben and Griffin. They’re afraid  

                             the kids are gonna treat ‘em differently.

Matt Casey: Come on, squirt, we’re gonna play some football.

Heather Darden: I’m gonna get a beer. 

                            [Matt murmuring excitedly with the kids]

Kelly Severide: Andy loved being a firefighter. It was our dream 

                           since we were kids.

Heather Darden: He worshipped you. You sure it wasn’t just your 

                             dream?

Nicki Rutkowski: Well, he protects Chicago and serves the beer?

Kelly Severide: For right now, sure.

Nicki Rutkowski: I’m Nicki.

                                          [bottle opening]

Nicki Rutkowski: Thanks. 

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Nicki Rutkowski: How long you been a firefighter?

Kelly Severide: Since the day I was born.

Nicki Rutkowski: [giggles]

Kelly Severide: Look, I gotta run, Nicki.

                                          [bottles clinking]

Nicki Rutkowski: Cheers.

Gabby Dawson: That was really nice. You’re really nice. 

Matt Casey: [chuckles] 

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Matt Casey: Kids are stronger than we think.

Hallie Thomas: Yeah. 

Matt Casey: So what’s up with the new doctor?

Gabby Dawson: Who? Mike? 

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: Oh. I don’t know, not much. Just keeping things 

                            simple.

                                               cutscene

                                      [knocking on door]

                      [door opens, tv playing in background]

Nicki Rutkowski: You, um, you left your jacket.

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

                           Mm…Not a good time for this.

Nicki Rutkowski: Do you always do what your chief tells you to do?

Kelly Severide: Trust me, this isn’t because of the chief.

Nicki Rutkowski: Is there somebody else in there?

Kelly Severide: Just the cubs.

Nicki Rutkowski: If you change your mind, you know where to find 

                             me.

                                               [door shuts]

                                                cutscene

Corrinne: Have a good day.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, you too.

Corrinne: Bye.

Leslie Shay: Bye, sweetie.

                                            [kissing sounds]

Leslie Shay: See you.

                      Hi.

Kelly Severide: Morning.

Leslie Shay: Did you eat my yogurt?

Kelly Severide: I didn’t touch your yogurt.

Leslie Shay: Was good seeing Heather yesterday.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, yeah it was.

                                                 cutscene

Chief Boden: So if there is nothing else…

Otis Zvonecek: Chief?

Chief Boden: Yes, Brian?

Otis Zvonecek: I was wondering what the proper protocol would 

                           be for designing a new crest for the truck.

                           It’s just, sir, Engine’s got a camel, which I get, and  

                           Squad has got a badass three-headed dog, which

                           I get, and we have a goat, sir.

Chief Boden: Named after Billy “goat” Bukanski, first chief of  

                       Firehouse 51 and a mentor to me.

Otis Zvonecek: Just forget I said anything [clears throat]

Chief Boden: That it?

Otis Zvonecek: Yes, sir.

Chief Boden: Then y’all do good work out there.

Matt Casey: That true about the crest?

Chief Boden: [scoffs]

                                                  cutscene

Kelly Severide: So if you would, please give me a call back so we  

                          could arrange a time to talk. Thanks.

Capp: You want a smoke break?

Kelly Severide: You mean you wanna bum a cigar off me?

Capp: If you’re offering.

Hadley: If you insist.

Capp: Thank you.

                                                  cutscene

Leslie Shay: How was Mike?

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] You know when you…when you have a 

                            sundae and it’s loaded up with hot fudge, and  

                            whipped cream, and ice cream, and a cherry on 

                            top?

Leslie Shay: Yeah?

Gabby Dawson: He’s the spoon.

Leslie Shay: Hey, can’t eat without a spoon.

Gabby Dawson: [scoffs]

Leslie Shay: What’s the latest with your union file?

Gabby Dawson: Um, I don’t know. I’m ignoring it. Works for 

                            everything else.

                                                   [PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Accident, 501 North Wabash. Truck 81, Ambulance 61, 

                  Squad 3.

Leslie Shay: Can’t ignore this.

                                               [sirens wailing]

                                              [horns honking]

                                   [indistinct chatter over radio]

Man: Watch out!

                             [crashing, glass smashing to ground]

                                                  [yelling]

Matt Casey: Get everyone back and seal it off!

Mouch: Good lord.

Firefighters: Move it back. Back! Back!

                      Stuff’s falling! Move back!

                      Come on, move, move, move. Come on, come on, 

                     back guys.

                                            [car door rattling]

Girl 1: Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

Matt Casey: Ma’am?

Kelly Severide: Capp! Hadley! Driver’s side. Start there.

Hadley: Yeah.

Girl 1: My friend. My friend, Cameron! 

Matt Casey: Where is she?

Girl 1: She’s right next to me. I…I can’t see her. Cam!

                                           [jaws buzzing]

Kelly Severide: Get back!

                                            [car smashes]

                                               [screams]

                                           [sirens wailing]

                                          [car door shuts]

Mouch: Passenger trapped, conscious, but we had to pull back  

              because stuff’s still falling.

Capp: That driver’s door is jammed up tight.

Chief Boden: Okay, Capp, Hadley on the k-12, you cut the top  

                        hinge. Severide, you work the jaws from the bottom  

                        edge. The moment that hinge pops, you wedge that  

                        door open. Casey, Mouch, collar the girl, get her on 

                        a board. Let’s go.

                                      [k-12 and jaws sputter]

                                           [buzzing stops]

Matt Casey: Stay forward for me.

                      Uh. Yep. Go. 

                      Grab the end, Mills.

                      Lean up. Lean up [groans]

                      Come down for me.

                      Watch your head.

Chief Boden: Move her out now!

                                            [glass smashing]

                                                [screaming]

Gabby Dawson: You’re okay, sweetie. You’re fine. You’re in good 

                            hands.

Girl 1: I just dropped my phone, so we pulled over and… 

            [whimpers] Please, is Cameron okay? Is she okay? 

Gabby Dawson: I’m not sure, honey. Let’s just concentrate on you 

                            right now, okay?

Patrol Officer 2: Ma’am, please!

Lady 1: My daughter. My daughter was in that car. Is she okay?

Matt Casey: I don’t know. They’re doing what they can.

Lady 1: Her name is Julie.

Matt Casey: I really don’t know.

Lady 1: She has blonde hair.

Matt Casey: She’s okay, she’s right over there.

Lady 1: Julie! That’s my daughter!

Jose Vargas: [sighs] Good thing she didn’t say red hair.

Lady 1: It’s okay.

                                               cutscene

                                           [phone ringing]

Kelly Severide: Hello?

                          Yeah.

                          Yeah, sure. I-If that’s good for you, I’ll be there.

                          Yeah. 

                          Okay.

                                                 cutscene

Matt Casey: Hey.

Hallie Thomas: Hey.

Matt Casey: How was your shift?

Hallie Thomas: What do you always say to me? “Fine. Typical.”

Matt Casey: Uh…I’ve been thinking.

Hallie Thomas: Uh, oh.

Matt Casey: No, nothing like that.

Hallie Thomas: What is it?

Matt Casey: Today, one girl died, and another lived because one  

                      decides to drive and the other gets in the passenger 

                      seat. 

                      I moved out because we spent the last year   

                      constantly debating your career versus my 

                      expectations of a family. 

                      What if we simplify things? Start fresh? Just put it all  

                      aside. Live everyday like it could be the last. 

                      I’m saying I wanna be with you.

                                               [slow music]

                                            [gentle laughter]

                                                cutscene

                                         [background music]

Mouch: Alabama?

Corrinne: Alabama. 

Mouch: Gulf coast. The catfish regatta.

Corrinne: [gasps]

Mouch: Right?

Corrinne: Yes! 

Mouch: Take her.

Corrinne: [giggles]

Gabby Dawson: [indistinct mumbling] He’s, like, wearing this…

                            this…this cape [laughs]

                                                 [laughter]

Gabby Dawson: And he looked like a fool… [indistinct mumbling]

Peter Mills: Yo!

All: Hey!

Peter Mills: What’s up, what’s up!

Joe Cruz: There you go. One, two.

Hallie Thomas: Thank you.

Joe Cruz: Absolutely.

Hallie Thomas: Whoop!

                                        [glass clinking]

Hallie Thomas: Cheers.

All: Cheers.

Joe Cruz: Holy smokes. 

Hallie Thomas: That’s all you got? 

Joe Cruz: Another round for the lady, huh?

                                  [cheering and laughter]

Gabby Dawson: It’s great to see you guys. 

Hallie Thomas: It’s great to be here.

                          You thought about doing rounds with me? 

Gabby Dawson: Uh, a-are you sure it’s not too much trouble?

Hallie Thomas: Are you kidding? I’d love it. You’re already doing 

                          half the procedures we do.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] That’s doubtful.

Hallie Thomas: Hey, you’re gonna be a great doctor, trust me. You 

                          have more experience than half of these Ivy league 

                          clowns.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Matt Casey: Hey, this rounds on me.

                                         [collective cheering]

Otis Zvonecek: Put three more on.

Peter Mills: What the hell are you doing?

Otis Zvonecek: What can I say? Uniform thing works.

                                                [laughter]

Lady 2 & 3: Where are the girls though? 

Christopher Herrmann: How does that…

Peter Mills: Damn.

                    Cheers to that.

Otis Zvonecek: Bye, guys.

                                           [indistinct chatter]

Joe Cruz: Hey! Last to arrive! Perfect timing my boys! There we are.

Man: What’s up, gents?

Jose Vargas: Where’s Severide?

                                               cutscene

                                        [knocks on door]

[Video recording…]

Peter: Is the blood off? I don’t want her to see the blood.

Kelly: Yeah. Here. 

           There. You’re good.

Peter: And my hair? I should have got it cut.

Kelly: [chuckles] Your hair…your hair looks fine.

           It looks fine from here. 

Peter: Yeah [heavy breathing]

            Georgie, my love. God, I wish I were better at this.

[End of video recording...]

Georgie: Oh my God.

[Video recording…]

Peter: I made a lot of promises to you over the years. Some were  

           harder to keep [panting]. I promised you [gasping]…a house  

           in Provence. I’m sorry we never made it there. You worked   

           so hard on that French, but any promise…that I ever made   

           about you…about how you were…the final piece to my   

           puzzle, those I kept till today. Every day. I know…   

           I know what you’re thinking about Kelly here, ‘cause I   

           thought it too. He’s exactly the son that I pictured for us.     

           And if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have had this chance 

           to say goodbye. Oh my love…

[End of video recording]

Georgie: [sniffles]

[Video recording…]

Peter: Do you remember how I made you promise me that you’d 

           let me die before you? [gasping] Well, thank you, my love.  

           Because I couldn’t live a day in this world without you…

           Georgie.

[End of video recording...]

Georgie: [sniffles]

                Mon amour. 

                Thank you [sobs]

                                              [somber music]

                                                    - end -

Definitions:

ANSUL = sophisticated method of extinguishing fires.

 K-12 = Fire/Rescue saw. It can be used for forcible entry, ventilation, USAR (Urban Search and Rescue – technical rescue operation that involves the location, extrication, and initial medical stabilisation of victims trapped in an urban area, namely structural collapse due to natural disasters, mines and collapsed trenches), RIC (Rapid Intervention Crew - team of two or more firefighters dedicated solely to the search and rescue of other firefighters in distress), and vehicle extrication.

[writings-of-dumpy]

George Weasley and the Girl in Ravenclaw: Part 5

Warnings: ~shawty fire burning on the dance floo, waoohh!~ No, but just fires and violence mostly.

“He didn’t like it, but he understood,” Raven told the twins as she exited Flitwick’s office. “I will be completing my term by mail starting immediately so that Dumbridge doesn’t get whiff of it and suddenly confine us all here like a jail.”

Fred and George nodded. “Good, then we have nothing to lose.”

Raven looked at them with an unreadable expression. “Are you two sure about this? I’d hate to see anyone else get hurt…”

Fred nodded. “We’ve got trackers on them so they’ll only go after her.”

Raven smiled. “Very clever of you two.”

“Well, we learned it from you, love,” George said.

Later that day, while the fifth years were taking their OWLs, Fred, George, and Raven managed to sneak past Filtch and grab their brooms. Raven had managed to shrink her things down into a small backpack that she wore so that he three of them could fly to the burrow at once.

“Ready?” she asked them.

“This is going to be SO fun…” George gushed in excitement. He could feel a pit in his stomach of anxiety that things may or may not go as planned, but for the most party, he couldn’t wait to see Umbridge’s face when that flaming dragon came straight for her…

~*~

“You did WHAT?” Molly barked at her sons when they returned home.

“You should have seen Raven’s face when she was through with her, mum! She deserved it!” Fred reasoned.

“Of course she deserved it, but if we all got what we deserved, we’d all be dust! I just hope none of this effects your father in a way…” Molly said with an exasperated sigh and sat down.

“Raven, dear, are you alright?” she asked Raven, who still looked slightly beaten up from her time with Umbridge and Inquisitor Squad the other day. George’s heart swelled almost every time he saw her, and he wanted nothing more than to use a spell that he hasn’t learned yet to ease her pain and take that nasty scar on her hand away.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Molly, thank you,” Raven said and welcomed Molly’s embrace.

“Alright, well… I suppose now is as good a time as any for the three of you to join the Order,” Molly said to herself it seemed.

“You mean it?!” Fred said with excitement.

“Well since you have no intention of going back to Hogwarts, and since you’re so eager, I don’t see why not,” Molly said. “But not a word of order business to Harry or your brother and sister. And we have to officially induct you, of course.”

George beamed at Fred and Raven. The three of them decided to share a room in the burrow, and while it was a bit cramped, they made it work. George helped Raven set up a space for her to send assignments back to Hogwarts so she could graduate in a month or two, and he and Fred went to Diagon Alley to scout space for their joke shop.

A few months went by, and the Order was meeting on a regularly scheduled basis now. With the death of Sirius Black, the Order had lost a critical member, and knew that it was his dying wish to allow Harry to be privy to their knowledge, so they all welcomed Harry, Ron, and Hermione into the Order officially. Ginny was an unofficial member as Ron and Harry would tell her basically everything.

Fred, George, and Raven worked day and night to build Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and stock it with their own products.

“I think these Skiving Snack boxes are going to be a huge hit,” Raven said from the ladder above them. “And the awful Umbridge is a nice touch, of course.”

George smiled and laughed with Raven. When she got off the ladder, he noticed something looked different about her today than it had in previous days.

“You cut your hair?” George asked her and reached up to hold a few soft locks in his hand.

Raven smiled and nodded slightly. “Yeah, I wanted a bit of a change… Do you like it?”

George smiled widely. “It looks beautiful.” The pair stared at each other for a moment longer and George wanted so badly to lean in and kiss her, but Fred’s voice from the other side of the shop interrupted George’s thoughts of locking lips.

“Well, I think we’re all set for opening tomorrow! And just in time, too. Hogwarts letters are set to go out this week, so Diagon Alley will be full of kids wanting excuses to skip,” he said with his hands on his hips and looking around.

“Just think of how much trouble you two could have caused if a shop like this had been open back in the day,” Raven suggested.

“Don’t forget your role in those pranks, spunky,” Fred told her with a smile. George nodded in agreement.

As Fred had predicted, the following week was flooded with kids and parents, and on the day before the train left, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stopped by for a few things before departing. George had noticed that he and Fred had been more in sync than ever in their shop, and he couldn’t have been happier. Raven often ran the till for them, but given that they were so busy, Fred and George offered to hop on either side of Raven’s usual spot. They were a well-oiled machine and George thought paradise couldn’t be too far off now. He had faith that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would figure out how to stop Voldemort with eh help of the Order, so he wasn’t too worried about the future. With every day he worked with Raven, his love grew and deepened, and every day he would find something new to make him smile about her. But with each day that went by, he worried more that she had moved on or worse, that she never felt for him in the first place.

“When are you going to talk to her, mate? I know we’re pretty focused with the shop, but… I see the way you look at her. Everyone does. You’ve been in love with the girl since you were thirteen!” Fred said one night as they were closing the shop. George nodded and locked the door.

“I know, I just… I haven’t found the right time. Maybe with Christmas coming up I’ll find a good time,” George said.

Fred nodded. “I just hate to see you looking so lost.” George nodded and the pair apparated to the burrow and were greeted with the arrival of Christmas holiday guests.

After gifts and dinner had been served on Christmas day, everyone retired to their rooms, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were no doubt plotting the latest scheme in their quest to take down Voldemort. George found Raven curled up with a book next to a lamp in the living room and decided to join her. He sat next to her and naturally placed his arm around her shoulders.

“Hi,” she said with a smile and glance at him.

“Reading something good?” he asked her and she scooted closer into his hold.

“It’s a muggle book about a girl with magical powers. It kind of reminds me of Harry’s situation with the rotten parents and sibling type. It’s a children’s book, but it’s quite interesting and fun to read,” she replied without looking up from her book. George smiled and gently rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. He smiled as he watched her turn page after page, when suddenly he heard a rumbling outside and smelled something like fire.

He looked up and saw flames outside of the house and bolted out of his spot next to Raven and armed himself with his wand. He heard Harry run down the stairs with his mum and dad, and the door flung open.

“Bellatrix,” Harry muttered and ran between the flames that surrounded the house. Soon after, Ginny ran after him despite her mother’s cries.

“Come on, we have to put the fire out,” Raven said and grabbed her wand and headed out to stop the flames from encroaching in farther.

She, Fred, and George all went outside and sprayed the fire down to embers and stomped them out as best they could. Before they had time to think and let alone breathe, a wicked cackle rang through the night air as Bellatrix and another Death Eater crashed through the burrow’s windows and set the house ablaze.

“Molly!” Raven cried out and ran inside the burning house. George and Fred followed her and they searched for their mother for a few moments before finding her and guiding her out of the house.

“Where’s Raven?” George asked his mother and Fred once they had stepped away from the flames and he didn’t see her.

Fred’s eyes widened. “I thought she was with you!”

George’s heart raced as he ran back into the flames and shouted for her with no answer. Flaming debris was falling all around him and he couldn’t see much past the smoke. He called again and heard a cough.

“Get out! I’m stuck, just go!” Raven’s voice called out from his left towards the kitchen. He made his way through the flames and found Raven on the floor with her legs trapped under a support beam.

“George, get out!!!” Raven screamed in anguish. Her arm was stretched far from her position and he could see her wand just beyond her reach. He scoffed and levitated the beam off of her, then ran to help her up. She grabbed her wand and George scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the burning building.

“Raven!” Fred cried out and ran towards George. “Is she hurt badly? Is she okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I can walk…” Raven said and wriggled out of George’s hold. “Is everyone okay?”

“I think so…” Molly said in a sad tone. George watched Raven stand for a moment and held his arms out to help her if she fell. Once she was steady on her feet, he stood next to her, facing the fire. The four of them stood away from the flames for a moment and watched in despair as their house burned. After a sigh, Raven started to douse the fire with a powerful hosing spell that got the flames out reasonably quickly. Hermione managed to get the burning surrounding the house extinguished and they all went back inside to assess the damage. Harry and Ginny had returned in the meantime to help.

“I’m so sorry… This is all my fault…” Harry kept saying.

“Did you burn down the building? No. So it’s not your fault, Harry. Stop blaming yourself,” Hermione said sternly, which earned her an impressed look from Raven. After about an hour of putting things back together, they all decided to call it a night. George’s muscles ached and his mouth was dry, but his main concern was Raven’s comfort and safety.

“Only George’s bed is okay up there, mine’s covered in soot and ash,” Fred grumbled. “I’ll take the couch.”

“You can have my bed,” George offered Raven without a second thought.

“Where will you sleep, then?” she asked him. He shrugged. “The floor I suppose.”

Raven shook her head. “I’m sure we can both fit. Come on.”

“I don’t care where you go, just stop talking,” Fred groaned as he curled under the blanket on the couch. Raven and George laughed to themselves and headed up towards the twins’ room.

George’s heart was pounding, and his insides were doing flips. Was he really about to share a bed with the girl of his dreams? He could hardly believe it. Suddenly his fatigue was gone and he felt nothing but gratitude.

“See? There’s plenty of room for both of us… If you don’t mind, that is?” Raven said, suddenly becoming less confident in her idea.

Before her mind could wander and further away from the truth, George spoke up, “Of course not! As long as you’re comfortable, so am I.”

Raven yawned widely and George thought she was adorable. He kicked his shoes off, but didn’t bother changing into his pajamas, and settled on one side of his bed. Raven climbed in on the other side and while the bed wasn’t the smallest, it wasn’t the largest, either, so for the two of them to be comfortable, they were basically on top of each other.

“Comfy?” George asked her once she had settled. Raven nodded against his shoulder. George was lain on his back and Raven on her side facing George. George’s face was a bright red, he was sure, and thanked the darkness for shielding him from embarrassment.

“Good night, Georgie,” Raven said in a small voice.

“Good night, Raven.”

The next morning, George woke up to a clamor in the kitchen that sounded like Harry and Ron having a small argument. George couldn’t quite make out the words, but after a few moments, there was silence and he heard two pairs of footsteps walking back up the stairs. Deciding he wanted to see if the shower was working from the damage last night, he moved to get up, and realized he was lying very close to someone. So close that his arm was around a waist and his chin was touching the top of a full head of air. He remembered the previous night’s sleeping arrangements and his heart pounded. It was Raven who he felt right up against him and who he was holding onto during the night. He didn’t want to wake her, so he carefully and slowly (and very reluctantly) moved his hand from around her waist. As he did so, he heard Raven groan slightly.

“Warm, come back,” she said. George’s breath hitched in his throat and he felt the tent in his pants extend as he re positioned himself with his front pressed against her backside and his arm around her waist. She wiggled herself against him as he pressed closer to her and he was sure by now that Raven was out to kill him. He did his best to control his breathing, but it was ragged and his heart pounded with every touch they shared. He loved their new comfort with each other, and hoped he’d get to cuddle her like this more often. He felt utter bliss with her.

[chibistarlyte]

So Blooms the Soul (As Flowers on the Skin)

“Uh…Haru?” Rin said hesitantly from behind him.

“Hm?” Haruka hummed, turning around to regard his best friend, who was looking at him with an incredulous look on his face.

“Your soul mark…” Rin said, slowly raising his hand and pointing at the blade of Haruka’s right shoulder. “Did you know it’s bloomed?”

Blue eyes widened and the shock of the question was almost enough to knock Haruka into the pool.

“Wh-what?”

AHHHH HERE IT ISSSS my fic for the @nanaseharukabirthdayexchange !!! I was able to write this fic for @lonesome-writer !!!

Milo, thank you so much for including so many fun prompts in your likes list. It was an absolute joy writing this for you and I really hope you like it! ;u;

The fic in its entirety is below the cut, but you can also read it here on AO3!

It was a quiet morning in Tokyo, still early enough to where not a single soul traversed down the street where the Swim Free Flower Shop resided. The sun slowly crept into the clear glass windows of the storefront, greeting the plants inside with its friendly, caring light. The plants, in turn, welcomed the sun in like an old friend, turning to face the windows and soaking up the rays.

 Nanase Haruka loved mornings like this, when he could ready his shop for the day and bask in the peace before the city properly awoke. He breathed in the sweet, fragrant air of the shop as he watered the plants with his mackerel-shaped watering can—a joke gift he’d gotten from Nagisa that Haruka had, unfortunately, grown too fond of to get rid of.

 His effervescent employee sure wormed his way into his heart, Haruka thought with a smile. He poured the last drops of water out of the mackerel’s mouth before setting it aside and going to set up his hose with the spray nozzle to water the larger plants he had on the sales floor.

 It was still early in the summer, and as such, a lot of his perennials were beginning to bloom. The wide array of flowers he had on hand added such a rainbow of colors to his shop, brightening everything up with no effort whatsoever. But he still had some plants that hadn’t bloomed yet, that were still trying to grow their buds,like his imported phlox flowers from the United States.

 Blue eyes stared at the buds, still mostly green but with small bursts of purple and violet poking through at the top. According to his research, they wouldn’t bloom for at least another month, but that was okay. He’d take the time to nurture them and help them grow; he had no doubt they’d be a huge hit when they did bloom, especially considering their natural habitat was overseas.

 But, to be honest, the reason he’d sought them out in the first place was because they were the exact same flower as the soul mark he sported on his back.

 More specifically, his soul mark was on the blade of his right shoulder. He’d only ever seen it in the mirror or in the occasional photo, and there was no color to it whatsoever—just the solid black outlines of a flower that begged to be colored in—so it took him a long time to figure out what kind of flower bud it was.

 And the fact that it was still a bud, not a fully bloomed flower, meant that he still hadn’t met his soulmate. Which was fine by him, really. He wasn’t really concerned with finding that one person destined to be his other half; he had people in his life that he loved and trusted, and he had his shop. He didn’t really need more than that.

 A firm knock on the front door yanked Haruka out of his peaceful musings, immediately filling him with confusion. It was too early for Nagisa to show up for his shift, and several hours until the shop would be open for business. So who…?

 Haruka turned around to see a small delivery truck outside, with a tall man in a recognizable uniform waving to him with a smile from outside.

 Ah, it made sense now. Though he usually didn’t get his deliveries this early…

 Haruka turned off the hose and set it atop the water tank, drying his hands on his apron as he approached the door and turned his master key in the lock.

 “Good morning!” the delivery man greeted as Haruka opened the door, his smile warm and bright.

 Haruka was almost blinded by the genuinely kind and friendly aura he exuded. The florist felt tingles all the way from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, though he had no idea why. He just kept staring at the—much taller—man before him, going slightly lightheaded and losing himself in crystal clear peridot eyes.

 The man’s smile grew a bit uneasy at Haruka’s blatant staring and lack of response, and he tilted his head a bit. Olive brown fringe fell to cover his eyes somewhat, which Haruka found to be an absolute travesty. “Um…is there something wrong?”

 Haruka felt like his face was on fire…or, more like he felt extremely flushed. Swallowing, he choked out the only thing he could think to say: “You’re not Sousuke.”

 The man looked adorably confused for about two seconds before his smile returned in full, accompanied by a laugh that may as well have been music to Haruka’s ears. “Ah, Yamazaki-kun is driving the truck. I’m Tachibana Makoto. I’m new, you see, so he’s driving the route today and I’m taking care of the customer contact.”

 “Oh,” Haruka said intelligently. “That…makes sense.”

 Tachibana’s smile didn’t dissipate in the slightest as he held up his metal clipboard that contained a bunch of invoices in its grasp. “It says here I only have four boxes for you today…where would you like me to put them?”

 Haruka held the door open wider, kicking the rubber door stopper with his foot until it wedged between the bottom of the door and the floor. “You can just set them here,” he said, motioning to an open spot between the front window and his bouquet coolers, “and I’ll break them down as I go.”

 “Sure thing!” the newbie said, nodding his head before disappearing to his truck. Haruka heard the metallic clangs of the trailer lock, the thump of the ramp coming in contact with the asphalt. All the while he just stood in his shop like a stick in the dirt, trying to regain feeling in his limbs that still felt slightly numb and buzzing with some weird energy. He idly rubbed at his right shoulder, feeling it burn slightly under his touch.

 Tachibana came in with two boxes piled on top of each other, balanced by a dolly. He was humming quietly as he worked, carefully sliding the boxes off the dolly before heading back to the truck for the remainder of the delivery.

 Haruka fished a box cutter out of his apron, slicing the tape on the first box in one swift motion. It contained some different soils he’d ordered, and he set to unpacking the bags and carted them over to the large storage cupboard at the back of the store. When he returned to cut into the second box, Tachibana had also returned with a carton of live plants—orchids, the shipping label on the side read. The fact that he was carrying such a heavy parcel with relative ease made Haruka unconsciously sneak a glance at the man’s arms. The sleeves of his collared uniform shirt were rolled up to the elbows, and besides the rock hard muscles in his forearms, Haruka also caught a glimpse of a flower bud peeking out from under Tachibana’s left sleeve. But it was quickly hidden again by the fabric, much too quickly for Haruka to discern what kind of flower bud it was.

 So, Tachibana hadn’t met his soulmate yet either.

 “Here, I’ll take that,” Haruka said, reaching his arms out for the box of orchids.

 “Oh, no, I’ve got it!” Tachibana insisted with that ever-present smile. “Would you like me to set it elsewhere?”

 Haruka gave up the fight much quicker than he expected of himself, and pointed to the counter lining the back of the store where he typically put together arrangements. “Over there is fine.”

 Tachibana did as he was told, still humming a soft little tune as he made his way to the back of the store.

 As much as Haruka wanted to watch the delivery man, feeling some kind of strange magnetic pull to him that he had a hard time fighting down, he instead wrenched his attention away and headed to the delivery truck outside. He saw his usual delivery guy, Sousuke, sitting in the driver’s seat tapping away on his phone. Sighing, Haruka impatiently rapped on the window with his knuckle to get Sousuke’s attention.

 The dark-haired man rolled down the window and gave Haruka a friendly smirk. “Morning, Haru. What’s up?”

 “Training the new guy by making him do all the work?” Haruka questioned, raising a brow.

 Sousuke snickered and leaned back against the seat. “Relax, he’s doing fine on his own,” he assured his long-time customer and friend. “Besides, my shoulder’s been acting up today. Figured it’d be better if he did the heavy lifting, y’know?”

 Haruka nodded in understanding, fixing Sousuke with a slightly more serious look. He knew Sousuke’s old swimming injury flared up on occasion, and those days were usually when Haruka would grab his own delivery boxes from the back of the truck. But now that Sousuke had someone helping him on his route, Haruka hoped that the man would give his shoulder a break.

 “Um…Nanase-san, could you please sign this invoice?” Tachibana said from behind, and Haruka spun around to find him smiling sheepishly at him.

 “That was fast,” Haruka remarked as he grabbed for the clipboard and pen being offered to him, causing Tachibana’s handsome face to flush an attractive pink.

 “Thanks?”

 A small, unbidden smile made its way onto Haruka’s face as he scratched out a signature of sorts using only the kanji of his surname. He clicked the pen closed and set it atop the clipboard, handing it back to the still blushing Tachibana. “You can call me Haru, by the way.”

 Tachibana blinked a couple times before seeming to realize he needed to take the clipboard back. “R-really? But we’ve only just met…”

 Haruka shrugged. “If you’re going to be a regular on this route, we’re gonna get to know each other eventually. I’d rather just skip the formalities.”

 If possible, Tachibana lit up with an even brighter smile than before. “Okay. Then you can call me Makoto.”

 “Alright, you two, enough chit-chat. We have to get to our next stop,” Sousuke scolded from inside the truck, turning the key in the ignition until the vehicle whirred to life. “Rin says hi, by the way,” Sousuke said to Haruka, waving his phone which presumably had a text message conversation open with Rin—Sousuke’s boyfriend and Haruka’s best friend.

 “Ah, sorry!” Makoto apologized, hurriedly tearing off Haruka’s copy of the invoice and handing it to him. “It was very nice to meet you, Haru. See you next time?”

 Haruka nodded and hummed in the affirmative. “Yeah, see you again, Makoto.”

 Makoto gave him a little wave as he dashed around the back of the truck, hurriedly locking up the trailer before hopping in the cab next to Sousuke. With a lazy salute from Sousuke and another brilliant smile from Makoto, the two drove off towards their next destination and left Haruka standing in front of his shop. His body still tingled.

.

 Haruka was quietly changing out of his clothes into his swimsuit when Rin decided to show up, claiming the locker next to him.

 “Impatient as always, I see,” the redhead commented teasingly, shrugging off his bag and jacket.

 Haruka, on the other hand, had just pulled on his knee-length jammers and was now digging around his bag for his swim cap and goggles. He merely gave a hum in response, hearing what Rin said but not entirely processing the words, his mind elsewhere.

 “Sousuke told me you met the new guy on his route,” Rin said, his voice muffled as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

 “Yeah,” Haruka affirmed distantly, folding up his work clothes and setting them neatly in his locker. He gently shut the door and stood idly by, waiting for Rin to change into his legskins. He didn’t offer up any more information, though just thinking about Makoto made butterflies flutter in Haruka’s stomach. He felt goosebumps all over his exposed skin, though it wasn’t cold in the locker room.

 Rin threw his own clothes into his locker and grabbed his swim cap and goggles, wearing his goggles around his neck like a necklace. He flashed a sharp-toothed smile at Haruka and stood with his hand on his hip. Haruka could just barely make out Rin’s soul mark, peeking out of his legskins at his hip—the tips of a fully colored blue delphinium stalk.

 Haruka remembered seeing Rin’s soul mark for the first time, before he’d really found his affinity for caring for flowers. It was something his late grandmother had instilled in him from a young age, but it took a while for Haruka to truly appreciate what she had taught him. He eventually followed that path, and now had a successful flower shop of his own.

 Part of that awakening of sorts had been thanks to Rin showing him his beautiful soul mark.

 Rin nodded his head to the door leading to the pool hall. “Looks like you’ve got some feelings to swim out,” he said to his best friend and they walked side-by-side out of the locker room.

 Haruka kept his gaze resolutely straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deflected, pursing his lips somewhat.

 Rin barked out a laugh. “Haru…we’ve known each other since elementary school. I know you’re not as emotionally constipated as you used to be, but shit, you look like you’ve been in a daze since you got here.”

 Haruka couldn’t contest that. However, he did narrow his eyes and give Rin a sidelong glance to his left. “Emotionally constipated?”

 Though Rin rolled his eyes, he was still smiling. “You know what I mean.”

 Haruka just hummed again, staring forward once more. He was usually pretty aware of his own emotions, able to accurately piece together what he was feeling about most anything after a little time to mull it over. Whatever weirdness he was feeling—whatever weirdness he had been feeling since early that morning—he was sure the water would help him think it through.

 Luckily, there were only a few other people in the pool hall at this time of the evening. Haruka allowed a small smile to grace his features. At least he and Rin would be mostly undisturbed in their swimming.

 “You wanna race, or are you just gonna do laps?” Rin asked as they approached the edge of the pool, already doing some stretches to prepare for their exercise. Haruka followed suit, focusing on working out his arm muscles since his signature stroke was the front crawl.

 “I think some laps,” Haruka said, shaking out his shoulders and stepping up onto the starting block.

 “Uh…Haru?” Rin said hesitantly from behind him.

 “Hm?” Haruka hummed, turning around to regard his best friend, who was looking at him with an incredulous look on his face.

 “Your soul mark…” Rin said, slowly raising his hand and pointing at the blade of Haruka’s right shoulder. “Did you know it’s bloomed?”

 Blue eyes widened and the shock of the question was almost enough to knock Haruka into the pool.

 “Wh—what?”  

.

 Haruka stood in front of the sink, back turned, head angled to try and get a glimpse of his soul mark. He felt those familiar tingles, the numbness from earlier spreading from his chest to every bit of his body. His limbs felt light and weightless like floating in water but heavier than a ship’s anchor at the same time. He could barely feel his fingertips poking and prodding at his shoulder as he twisted every which way to see it clearly in the mirror.

 “Hey, Haru, here…” Rin said, stepping into the bathroom with his phone in hand—he’d gone to retrieve it from his locker before chasing directly after Haruka. “Lemme take a picture so you can see it better.”

 Sucking in a deep breath, Haruka complied and turned his back to Rin. He vaguely registered the shutter snap as Rin captured the photo on his phone. The slightly taller man then handed his phone to Haruka, who took it in shaking hands and stared at his soul mark on the screen.

 It was a fully bloomed phlox, but not even just one flower, which surprised Haruka enough to make his breath hitch. While the bud had only been singular, now emblazoned on his pale skin was a cluster of eight—maybe ten?—blossoms with five petals each, all rounded at the tips and flared out like an umbrella. None of them had any color whatsoever, only the black, almost inky outlines that gave the flowers their shape.

 The fact that it didn’t have any color yet meant that it was brand new…that it had only bloomed within the last day or so.

 Haruka felt the room spin around him, shadows seeping into the edges of his vision.

 “Whoa, hey! Haru!” Rin cried out as Haruka swayed on his feet. He stabilized his friend with his strong arms, guiding the raven-haired man back out to the locker room and lowering him to sit on the bench in front of their lockers. “You okay?”

 Haruka hung his head between his knees, sucking in deep breaths and holding them for a few seconds before expelling them shakily. Rin’s phone hung limply in his hand, and he couldn’t muster the strength to even lift it up to hand back to him. It didn’t make sense…it didn’t make sense. How could he have met his soulmate and not realize it? How could he have even met his soulmate if he was at work all day until now?

 Unless…it was a customer? But no, all of the customers that visited his shop today were regulars…so it couldn’t have been any of them. What if it was just some random stranger on the train he took to get to the rec center? How would he be able to track them down, then?

 “Haru, I think you should go home for tonight…you’re in no condition to swim, like this…” Rin said carefully, squatting down in front of his best friend. “I can have Sousuke bring the car ‘round so we can drive you home.”

 Words caught in his throat, Haruka swallowed hard before nodding silently. He felt Rin take his phone from his loosened grip and watched as his friend’s bare feet slapped against the tiled floor as he stepped away to call Sousuke. Haruka blew out another shaky breath, his hands coming up to grab fistfuls of his hair. The pain of pulling on the strands helped keep him grounded a little, allowed him to focus and center himself until the lightheadedness abated somewhat.

 He had never cared about meeting his soulmate, had never given it more than a passing thought for his whole life. Even watching the people around him meet their own soulmates and form unbreakable bonds with their destined persons, he never felt odd or left out because he hadn’t met his own. But now, when the moment actually came…it slipped through his fingers before he realized it. And it was too late.

.

 “What’s got you so down, Haru-chan?”

 Haruka looked up from his inventory form, peering at his employee through his dark bangs. Nagisa was looking at him with wide, earnest magenta eyes that had no business looking as worried as they did. Nagisa was supposed to be endless smiles and boundless positivity, and it irked Haruka that he was the reason for the blond’s concerned countenance.

 “It’s nothing,” he said, tapping his pen against the inventory sheet until the ink bled a puddle through the paper. He scowled and tore the sheet from the pack, dabbing up the wet ink with the already soiled paper and hoping it didn’t bleed all the way through the stack.

 “Then why do you look so gloomy?” Nagisa pressed, nuzzling his head against his boss’s shoulder, and it was obvious he wasn’t going to leave Haruka alone until he got some kind of answer. That was just how Nagisa was.

 His shoulder…

 Haruka sighed and clicked his pen closed, leaning against the counter. “Here, look at this,” he said pulling the strap of his apron over his head and tugging at the collar of his oversized shirt. He exposed as much of his right shoulder as he could to Nagisa, turning slightly to give the shorter man a better look.

 Nagisa peeked past the dark blue fabric and gasped at what he saw. “Haru-chan…your soul mark bloomed! That’s wonderful!”

 Haruka tugged his shirt back up, but left the top half of his apron still hanging down. “It’s really not,” he said dejectedly, leaning further down on the counter until his forehead was touching the soil-dusted surface. “I don’t even know who my soulmate is…”

 Haruka could feel the air shift around them with Nagisa’s sadness at his statement. “Oh, Haru-chan…”

 The jingling of the bell above the door drew both of their attention, cutting their conversation short for the time being. Haruka looked up from the counter and couldn’t help but shudder at the unexpected relief he felt when he saw who had come into the shop.

 “Good morning, Haru!” Makoto said, smiling his gentle smile and holding his hand up in a small wave as he made his way over toward Haruka and Nagisa.

 “Makoto,” Haruka acknowledged with a short nod, stepping around the counter when the strap of his apron caught on the corner. Haruka tripped at the sudden halt, but a pair of strong arms caught him before he could properly fall.

 “Are you alright?” Makoto asked, surprise still etched onto his kind face.

 Haruka hummed in response, noting the way his body was beginning to tingle again like a powerful electric current charged his blood and flowed through his veins as if they were wires.

 What the hell…?

 Makoto held onto him for a couple more seconds before almost jolting away as if he’d been stung. His bright green eyes met Haruka’s and they held each others’ gazes for what could have been seconds, minutes, hours, before Nagisa coughed none-too-subtly and gathered their attention.

 “Haru-chan, who’s this?” the blond asked with excited curiosity, leaning up to get a good look at Makoto’s face. Makoto backed away just a tad, a sheepish grin on his face.

 “This is Makoto; he’s the new delivery guy on Sousuke’s route,” Haruka explained, ducking his head to hide the blush he could feel heating his cheeks. He busied himself with fixing his apron to avoid any more…er, mishaps. Plus, as the owner of the shop, he had to look professional and presentable. A half-folded apron was neither of those things.

 “Hello,” Makoto said, holding out his hand for Nagisa to shake. “Nice to meet you…er…?”

 “I’m Nagisa!” the shorter man said brightly, taking Makoto’s hand in both of his smaller ones and shaking vigorously. “Very good to meet you, Mako-chan!”

 Makoto’s smile eased into that same gentleness as before. “I’ve got a bigger delivery for you today, Haru,” he said, turning slightly to face Haruka again while Nagisa still had a grip on his hand. “Sorry we’re a little late. Another stop ran over time by a bit.”

 “Not a problem,” Haruka said with a shake of his head. “Sousuke was usually later than this when it was just him, so don’t worry.”

 “I heard that,” Sousuke said, his deep voice drowning out the sound of bell chime on the door. He was wheeling a dolly in backwards with several boxes stacked on top of the metal lip, all labeled “FRAGILE.”

 “Oh, those must be the vases I ordered,” Haruka remarked, running over to clear a space by the coolers for Sousuke to set the boxes down. “Nagisa, could you put the door stopper down and help get the other boxes from the truck?”

 “Sure thing!” Nagisa said, practically jumping up and down in that enthusiastic way of his. Once he shoved the rubber wedge beneath the door, he bounded outside to retrieve some more of their packages.

 “Sousuke, let me take that!” Makoto said, taking the dolly from his boss before there was a chance for Sousuke to protest. The brunette followed Nagisa’s example and hurried out to the truck.

 Sousuke chuckled, rolling his shoulder. “They have way too much energy for this early in the morning.” His teal eyes then slid over to Haruka, darkening just a little with seriousness. “How are you doing after last night? You seemed…pretty shaken up, which isn’t like you.”

 Haruka looked down at his shoes, curling his toes inside. He didn’t really want to have to explain himself, especially with a near-stranger in possible earshot. Besides, he knew Sousuke had at least heard the gist of it from Rin in the car ride to Haruka’s place last night—he’d heard them whispering about it in the front seat. But he also didn’t want to leave Sousuke hanging.

 Instead, he changed topics somewhat. “How long did it take for your soul mark to start…gaining color? After you and Rin met?”

 Sousuke paused to think, tucking his hands into his pockets. It was then that Haruka realized, he’d never actually seen Sousuke’s mark. He’d only seen Rin’s, mostly when they went swimming. But it’d been in full color for as long as he could remember.

 “Well, I mean, we met in elementary school,” Sousuke said with a shrug. “And I know at least mine was in full color before he left for middle school in Australia, so…?”

 “I…see…” Haruka muttered, scratching at the back of his neck. He could feel his shoulder tingling again.

 “You didn’t have any color to yours last night, right?” Sousuke then asked.

 Haruka shook his head. “No, it…it was still just the outline…”

 “Can I see it?”

 Haruka froze, his hand at his side clenching into a fist. “I…don’t see why not?” he choked out against his better judgment. “It’s here…on my right shoulder blade…” he said, tapping at his shoulder with the hand that was already at the back of his neck. He didn’t bother taking off his apron this time, just shrugging enough of his shirt off for Sousuke to see the phlox blossoms on his skin.

 Sousuke came up beside him, tugging the shirt fabric away from Haruka’s shoulder enough to see the mark. “Uh, Haru, it’s…”

 “What?” Haruka asked, alarmed at Sousuke’s hesitance. The other man was rarely like that.

 “There’s already some color.”

 "What?”  Haruka repeated, already feeling that strange numbing sensation that he’d felt last night.

 Nagisa and Makoto were chattering away as they came back into the shop, Makoto with some more boxes on the dolly and Nagisa carrying a really tall box with aeration holes which meant that live plants were inside. They both froze at seeing Haruka’s ashen face.

 “Haru-chan, what’s the matter?” Nagisa said, setting down his box right where he stood and ran over to his boss and friend. “Do you feel sick?”

 Sick was an understatement. Haruka felt dizzy, like he was floating at the bottom of the pool and running out of air in his lungs, but his body was too heavy for him to swim to the surface. His stomach was doing flip-flops on itself and there was a deafening pounding in his ears that drowned out the concerned voices around him. Before he realized it, he was being picked up off the ground and carried in someone’s arms—where to, he had no idea. All he could do was stare up at the ceiling through hazy blue eyes, holding his breath so he didn’t puke. The tingling sensation grew much more intense, to the point where he felt needles all over his skin and his shoulder outright burned as if someone had set it aflame.

 When he came back to himself, he was lying on the small sofa in the break room at the back of the shop. Nagisa was standing above him, placing a cool, dampened washcloth to his forehead. Haruka’s palms felt sweaty and clammy, and he had a hard time curling his fingers into fists. They felt swollen.

 “Haru-chan, do you want to close the shop for the day?” Nagisa asked. “You need to rest.”

 Haruka barely managed a shake of his head. “N-no, I’ll be fine, just…go manage everything for a while until I can get up again….”

 Nagisa nodded resolutely. “You got it, Haru-chan. Mako-chan, come help me with the rest of the boxes?”

 Makoto looked up from where he stood at the end of the sofa. “Okay, sure, I can do that!”

 But before he could move, Sousuke stepped in front of him with his hand out, blocking Makoto’s path. “I’ll help Nagisa, you stay here with Haru until we’re done.”

 Hearing that made Haruka’s heart jump into his throat for some reason. He couldn’t figure out why.

 “O-okay, if you’re sure, Sousuke…” Makoto said, to which Sousuke nodded.

 “Water is in the little fridge over there if you need it,” Nagisa said, pointing to a mini-refrigerator in the corner of the small room. “We’ll hurry, okay?”

 Makoto hummed with a nod, and the two of them left to go finish getting the delivery in order.

 It was silent in the room, save for the sounds of Haruka’s slightly labored breathing. He was sweating up a storm, and he reached up with a shaky hand to press the cold cloth firmer against his forehead.

 “Um…do you…want some water, Haru? You might be dehydrated…?” Makoto asked, and damn if Haruka didn’t somehow find that nervousness adorable.

 “Sure, that might help,” Haruka rasped out, even though the thought of ingesting anything at the moment made his stomach churn. He listened to the faint sounds of Makoto shuffling over to the fridge, the opening and closing of the insulated door, the crunching of the plastic bottle in Makoto’s hand. A shadow descended over him, Makoto’s tall and broad frame blocking out the sunlight coming in from the windows.

 “Do you want to sit up? I can help you,” Makoto offered quietly.

 Haruka nodded curtly, reaching his arms out towards the gentle giant above him. As soon as Makoto’s hand circled around his wrist, Haruka felt that electrified feeling as if he’d been shot with a taser. A pained noise came from the back of his throat, alarming Makoto enough for him to let go of Haru’s wrist immediately.

 “S-sorry, I just…I’ll do it myself,” Haruka said through a wince, using whatever strength he could muster to pull himself to a sit against the arm of the sofa. When he pulled the cloth away from his face, he blinked his eyes open to see Makoto staring at him with those sunny green eyes. He was slowly flexing the fingers of his hand, forming a fist and relaxing over and over. “Are      you    alright?” Haruka asked, nodding to Makoto’s hand.

 “Hm? Oh, yeah,” Makoto assured him with a sweet smile. “My hand just got all tingly for a minute…like it feels when it falls asleep?”

 It took a second or two for the words to register, but once they did, Haruka could do nothing but stare wide-eyed at Makoto.

 So…he…Haruka wasn’t the only one who…

 “Oh, here’s your water, Haru,” Makoto said belatedly, holding the bottle out to Haruka.

 “Thanks…” Haruka said, reaching for the bottle. Their fingers brushed for only a moment, but it was enough to make Haruka’s entire arm go numb. Makoto seemed to have a similar reaction if the squint of his eye and quiet hiss through his teeth were anything to go by.

 “We’re done!” Nagisa’s voice could be heard before the man himself was seen. He came barreling into the break room with Sousuke leisurely strolling in behind him. "Oh, you're sitting up! Are you feeling any better, Haru-chan?"

 "A little," Haruka said, fumbling with numbed fingers to open the cap of the water bottle. He started out with small, slow sips.

 "Are you sure you're okay to stay at work?" Sousuke asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

 Haruka nodded, which was a bad move because it just made him feel dizzy again. "I'm fine, just…don't mention this to Rin. He'll be all over me about it if he finds out."

 Sousuke barked out a laugh. "You're not wrong about that." He then flicked his arm out to right the face of his wristwatch to check the time. "Well, if you're sure you're okay, Makoto and I have to make it to our next stop. We'll leave you in Nagisa's expert care."

 Nagisa stuck his tongue out at Sousuke. "You're so mean, Sou-chan."

 Haruka almost smiled at his friends' antics. Almost. He looked at Makoto, who'd remained quiet since the intrusion and actually did smile softly at the man. "Thanks for keeping an eye on me."

 Makoto flushed and offered Haruka a shy smile, scratching his cheek with his forefinger. "Ah, you're welcome. I didn't really do anything, though?"

 "You made sure Haru-chan didn't fall off the couch and die," Nagisa amended, throwing his arm around Makoto's shoulder, which was a sight in itself considering their height difference. "That's more than enough, don't you think?"

 "I-I guess…" Makoto said sheepishly.

 "Nagisa, unhand my coworker before I throw you over my shoulder and toss you into the trailer with the rest of the packages," Sousuke said. Although his tone was deadpan, his threat was clear.

 "What if we wanna keep Mako-chan here?" Nagisa asked, hanging off Makoto in some weird semblance of a hug. The taller man laughed, letting himself be jerked around by Nagisa with no complaints whatsoever. "Haru-chan likes him, right, Haru-chan?"

 Haruka blinked, looking between Nagisa and Makoto a few times before settling his gaze on Makoto. He hummed in affirmation, taking another sip of water in hopes of hiding his blush behind the bottle.

 Before anything else could be said, Sousuke manhandled Nagisa off of Makoto and began ushering his employee out the door before the little blond mayhem maker could get his hands on him again. "See you dorks tomorrow morning!" he said overly loudly, making his point.

 "See you tomorrow Nagisa, Haru!" Makoto said with a laugh, raising his arm to wave. The rolled up sleeve of his uniform shirt fell down to his elbow, revealing a cluster of black outlined flowers with slight pastel pink coloring at the tips of the petals on his forearm.

 Flowers that looked strangely like…

 But by the time Haruka thought to say anything, Sousuke and Makoto were long gone.

.

 Haruka sighed as he sank into the warm water, hunkering down until the water came up to right below his nose. The steam rising off the surface clouded around him, almost creating a bubble for him to exist in that separated him from the outside world. His bathtub wasn’t quite long enough for him to stretch out his legs completely, but even with them bent at the knee and his kneecaps poking out of the water, he could already feel his muscles relax.

 He definitely needed to relax after the last day and a half.

 Much of that time was spent in utter confusion, trying to figure out how in the world his soul mark could have bloomed without him realizing that he’d made contact with his soulmate. Not only that, but he’d apparently spent enough time with his soulmate over the past day for his mark to start coloring already.

 Then, when he’d gotten a glimpse of Makoto’s arm…well, that threw everything into extremely unfamiliar waters. And Haruka wasn’t used to being unfamiliar in any kind of water.

 Haruka sank beneath the hot water, his eyes closed. He felt the small pushes and pulls of the water, every little movement he made created tides and ripples in the small, confined area of his element. It calmed him, helped him clear his thoughts.

 When Haruka resurfaced, a decision had been made.

 He needed to ask Makoto to show him his soul mark.

.

 The next morning, when Haruka arrived at his shop at the very break of dawn, he was pleasantly surprised to see that some of his budded plants had bloomed.

 Perhaps the most pleasant and surprising ones were the garden phlox flowers, their colors soft and muted but no less beautiful for it, and when the creeping rays of the sun refracted through the glass of the windows and onto the petals, the gentle pinks and pastel purples really came to life.

 Haruka hoped that it was a good sign.

 He went about his normal morning routine of watering all the plants, enjoying the peace and calmness of the dawn. The gentle sound of the streams of water flowing from the nozzle of his mackerel watering can brought him a sense of clarity. When he moved on to the hose for the larger plants, the gentle hum of the spray nozzle lulled him into a familiar calmness. He felt ready to face the moment that could possibly change the rest of his life. He was still nervous, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach and that familiar tingling feeling in his fingers, but he had to do this. He had to.

 When he heard the gentle knock on the glass door, Haruka turned to see Makoto and felt immediately at ease.

 He turned off the hose and set it atop the tank, walking over to the door and unlocking it to let Makoto in.

 “Good morning, Haru,” Makoto said with his usual gentle smile, his head tilted slightly. “How are you feeling?”

 “Much better,” Haruka said, offering Makoto a small smile of his own.

 “I’m so glad,” Makoto sighed happily. “You really had us worried yesterday.”

 “Sorry about that…” Haruka said, averting his gaze. He felt a hand on his shoulder, then, giving it a gentle squeeze. And while the tingling and weird kind of numbing was still present, Haruka felt…warm. The kind of comforting warmth that came with cuddling in a blanket in the wintertime, or sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long day.

 “Makoto…”

 “Hm?”

 “Can…” Haruka swallowed, looking up at Makoto’s face. Blue eyes met green and Haruka gained his courage. “Can I see your soul mark?”

 A mixture of surprise and confusion crossed Makoto’s face. “My soul mark? Why?”

 Haruka sucked in a breath. He removed the top of his apron and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. He shrugged the collared top off his right shoulder, enough to where his own soul mark was visible, and turned just enough for Makoto to see it.

 “Because I need to see if it matches mine.”

 He heard Makoto gasp, but what that sharp intake of breath meant, Haruka wasn’t sure.

 Until Makoto held his arm out for Haruka to see, and Haruka blew out a breath that had been stuck in his lungs for what felt like an eternity.

 Staring up at him from a tanned forearm was a fully bloomed bunch of phlox flowers, with soft pastels fading in from the centers of the blooms.

 “I had a feeling…” Makoto said through a small laugh, though his laugh sounded a little watery around the edges. “When I got back in the truck, that first day…I noticed my mark had bloomed…and every time I saw you, I just felt…I don’t know…warm? Tingly? I can’t really describe it…”

 Haruka turned back around to face Makoto, his shirt still hanging off his shoulder. There were a couple tears gathered in the corners of Makoto’s gorgeous green eyes, and Haruka was surprised to discover that he had a very similar affliction currently. He blinked his own tears away and hesitantly reached his hand up to cup Makoto’s cheek, his thumb just barely caressing the skin beneath Makoto’s eye.

 “I felt the same…” Haruka admitted, then let out a breath of a laugh. “Though, I guess it definitely took more of a physical toll on me than it did on you.”

 “It sure did,” Makoto laughed quietly, bringing his own hand up to hold Haruka’s hand against his face.

 And there it was again…the tingling feeling. Though instead of coming in as a shock to the system, instead of making him feel sick and numb, it made Haruka’s blood sing, made his spirit flutter, made his heart slow down to a tempo that was nothing but comfort and peace.

 Why hadn’t he cared before about meeting his soulmate? If he knew it’d feel like this…

 Well. That didn’t really matter now, did it?

 Makoto leaned forward, touching his forehead to Haruka’s. Against his will, Haruka’s eyes slid shut.

 "So...now what?" Haruka whispered.

 Makoto sighed a laugh, and Haruka felt his warm breath against his face. It smelled minty, like he had brushed his teeth recently. "I'm...not really sure…" Makoto said hesitantly. "But...I suppose we'll figure it out, right?"

 Haruka smiled, leaning his head on Makoto's shoulder. "Yeah...I suppose we will."

.

 Haruka had never learned much about hanakotoba, aside from what his grandmother had taught him before she passed away. As a florist, he didn't have much use for it. All that mattered to him was how certain flowers and fillers looked together in arrangements, not so much the meanings behind them.

 But since he'd met Makoto, his curiosity had been piqued. He hadn't thought about it before, but...what if soul marks had some kind of meaning? And that meaning was relevant to the two soulmates who shared their mark?

 When he discovered what phlox meant—harmony, united souls—he knew there was no way it was just coincidence.

 So Haruka started looking into other flowers and their meanings, learning more about this hidden language embedded in nature. Once he was versed enough in certain plants and blooms, he began creating a subset of products based around hanakotoba. Just little mason jar arrangements, boutonnieres, corsages, other smaller things of such nature that had just that little extra meaning to them for customers who were looking for that sort of thing.

 He'd also taken a liking to making flower crowns, which was what he was currently working on. He had blooms of both light pastels and deep, vibrant purples on the worktable in front of him. Various tools were scattered about, as well as wiring and floral tape to hold things together. He also had some filler flowers to go along with the main flower of the crown—things like baby's breath that would nicely accent the petunias he was working with for this particular crown. It was for Makoto.

 "Haru?" a voice said, following the jingles of the bells above the front door of the shop.

 Haruka looked up from his worktable, a small smile automatically in place on his lips as soon as he saw Makoto standing at the shop front. "You're early…" he commented, tilting his head slightly. "You're never early."

 Makoto laughed at that as he made his way toward his soulmate, dropping onto the stool next to Haruka. "What are you working on?"

 Haruka's gaze turned back to the mess of flowers and leaves and stems on the table, where a full circlet of petunias sat amongst the wreckage. "Flower crown," he said, picking up his craft and tweaking some of the blooms so they sat correctly.

 "It's beautiful," Makoto said, nudging Haruka's shoulder with his own. The shoulder with his soul mark, now in full color beneath his shirt.

 "It's for you," Haruka said, reaching up with both hands and gently settling the crown atop Makoto's olive brown hair. He was right, the purple did look good on him.

 A smile that was more precious than any other lit up Makoto's face and his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Haruka had a hard time keeping his heart from thundering in his chest at the gorgeous sight. "Thank you, Haru, I love it." Makoto reached up and gently ran his forefinger over one of the vivid violet petals. "What kind of flowers are these?"

 "Petunias," Haruka answered, fixing the crown so that it sat just slightly angled on Makoto's head, making him look even more adorable than before. "They mean gentleness, or 'your presence soothes me.'"

 Makoto ducked his head and hid his bashful expression behind his large, gentle hands. Haruka wanted nothing more to pull Makoto's hands away from his face and nuzzle their noses together.

 "You'd better make one for yourself, then, to match," Makoto said, allowing Haruka to take his hands. "Because that's exactly how you make me feel."

 Haruka fought down his own blush and swallowed the lump in his throat. "...Maybe tomorrow," he acquiesced, touching his nose to Makoto's.

 Makoto nuzzled his nose against Haruka's. "You ready to close up shop?"

 "Yeah, it's just about time, isn't it?" Haruka said, reluctantly pulling away from Makoto and getting up from his stool. He still had quite the mess leftover from his little project, and normally he made sure everything was spic and span before he left the shop for the night. But he and Makoto had planned a date of sorts and he didn't want to hold that up.

 He and Nagisa would just have to do extra cleaning in the morning.

 Haruka took off his apron and hung it on the hook by his arrangement counter, then moved to wash his hands of all the dirt and pollen. In the meantime, he heard Makoto pulling the metal gates across the front windows closed.

 As soon as the lock on the front door was clicked shut, Haruka pocketed his keys and immediately slid his hand into Makoto's and intertwined their fingers. They walked down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, nudging each other's shoulders now and then, squeezing each other's hands in reassurance of the other's presence.

 Makoto's crown of petunias stayed on his head for the rest of the night.

[jaxsteamblog]

Prompt Generator Series 01

I’m trying something new in order to practice my writing. I’ve found a prompt generator and I’m going to write things for them. They will probably not be complete pieces like “one-shots” and I may never give them a conclusion, but I hope you enjoy them!

Prompt: Having recently broken up, the main character is forced into an adventure they do not want when whilst drunk, another character does something unexpected at a party.

In the movies, when a couple breaks up, the woman’s friends bring wine and ice cream. They watch a movie or trash-talk the ex while getting drunk on sugar and whatever cheap bottle one of them managed to grab at the grocery store.

That was not how Toph Beifong did things.

When Katara sent out the text, Suki had been the one to suggest getting together, but Toph was the one that announced they would be going out. And Katara had enjoyed the getting ready part; trying on outfits she hadn’t worn in weeks because she and Aang hadn’t gone out, getting into Suki’s makeup, and gushing to each other about how they felt.

Actually going out was a different story.

As they were in the taxi, Katara felt like her dress was too short, her face too covered, and her body too stiff under it all. Still, she didn’t want to admit it, knowing that really, she just felt too exposed without her relationship cloaking her. 

Maybe that’s why, when Toph bought shots, she didn’t decline. Or why she continued drinking, even after the throb of the music started to be more of a feeling than a sound. 

When Katara started to feel hot and crowded, Toph finally relented. Being a Beifong, Toph had access to the exclusive rooftop and she led Katara and Suki upstairs. The music was more subdued and the conversation was quieter. Out in the open, the breeze brushed against her sweat stained skin, making her shiver. 

“I’m going to get some water.” Katara announced as Toph and Suki found a table.

“Could you grab me a tiger claw?” Toph asked and Katara nodded as she walked to the bar.

There were a lot less people there, but the bartender was off talking to a group of young women who were clearly making a list of drinks. Leaning against the bar, Katara closed her eyes as another breeze touched the back of her neck.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

Katara opened her eyes and turned to see the man now standing on her left.

He was handsome. Enough so that Katara stood, feeling embarrassed. 

“Oh, no, I’m just getting water.” She said. The man smiled and angled himself more toward her. Seeing a scar on his left eye, she tilted her head and it fell heavily toward her shoulder. 

“That must’ve hurt.” Katara stated and the man chuckled. 

“It did.” He replied and she winced.

“Shit. Sorry. That was rude.” 

The man laughed and shook his head. 

“I’m used to being around rude women.” He said.

“Hey.” Katara scowled. “I’m not rude all the time. I’m just drunk.” 

Remembering, quite suddenly, all of the horror stories of meeting men at bars, Katara set her shoulders and continued. “I’m here with my friends.” 

“And I’m here with mine.” The man said. “My name is Zuko.” 

He held out his hand and Katara took it, shaking it slowly.

“I’m Katara.” 

“You’re a Waterbender right?”

“How did you know?” Katara asked with breathy curiosity. 

“Your eyes.” Zuko answered and Katara blushed.

“Why don’t you just get your own water then?” He questioned.

“That’s rude.” Katara said quickly.

“But you’re rude now.” He countered.

Katara placed her hands flat on the bar.

“I am rude now.” She whispered. Then she looked down at the bartender and frowned.

“I don’t have any glasses.” Katara stated.

“Here.” Zuko said, making her turn back just in time to see him leap over the bar.

“You can’t do that!” Katara whispered sharply. Zuko smiled before grabbing two glasses.

“I am also rude now.” He replied and jumped back over. “See? He didn’t even notice.”

Pushing the glasses toward her, Zuko winked. “Your turn.”

Katara took a step back from the bar and took in a deep breath. Moving her arms, she let the breath out slowly and pulled on the water dispenser. The hose came free of its holder and Katara coaxed the water out of it. As she poured, the bartender finally noticed what was going on.

“Hey!” He yelled, startling Katara. A burst of water exploded out of the hose, damaging the dispenser and spraying her and Zuko with water. The bartender ran down to wrestle with the hose while Katara attempted to stop the spray of water. 

When the bartender got the dispenser under control, Katara took a glass of water and darted back to her table, leaving Zuko behind. 

Dripping wet and mortified, Katara tucked herself behind Suki and Toph.

“We need to go.” She said in a low voice.

“What did you do?” Toph hissed while Suki was choking on her laughter.

“She just left him standing there!” Suki gargled out and Katara brushed the water off of her, tossing it over the railing of the balcony. 

“We really need to go!” Katara repeated.

“Did you even get my drink?” Toph asked.

“She was too busy being a coward.” Zuko interjected and Katara yelped as she tried to duck under the table.

Zuko leaned down and looked at her.

“I’ve paid for the damages but, do you think you could dry my clothes Ms. Waterbender?” He asked. 

Standing up, Katara moved around the table and sheepishly hung her head as she pulled the water from Zuko’s clothes. 

“Can you go get my drink now?” Toph asked as Katara tossed the water away.

“I don’t want to go back there.” She said.

“I’d be happy to.” Zuko offered. “If you three would consider joining me and my friends.”

“Are your friends hot?” Toph asked.

“You’re blind.” Katara said.

“I still have a type, Katara.” Toph retorted. 

“I’m spoken for.” Suki said.

“That’s fine, my friends are more looking to prove a point than actually try to pick someone up.” Zuko said and then turned to Toph. “And I don’t know what your type is, but I would argue that my friends are hot.”

Toph stood and put her foot down, hard, making Zuko jump back a bit.

“Well, you’re not too bad. I think they’ll be fine.” Toph said. “Get me a tiger claw and we’ll go over.” 

“Deal.” Zuko said and walked off.

Katara immediately turned on Toph.

“We can’t just go over there with him.” She stated.

“Why not?” Toph asked.

“Because,” Katara stopped, unable to put her feelings into words. 

“Exactly. I’m sure they’re fine.” Toph said.

“And if they’re not, we leave.” Suki added.

“Fine.” Katara muttered and picked up her water glass. It didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Ruon-Jian, Chan, this is Katara, Suki, and Toph.” Zuko said as he led them over to his table. The two other men held up their hands in greeting.

Toph made as if she had tripped and put a heavy foot down, grabbing onto Suki to steady herself. Her sly grin right before she straightened made Katara want to roll her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m blind and these loose floorboards are just terrible.” Toph said with fake simpering femininity dripping off her words. Chan brightened at her tone and got up, offering his hand.

“Let me help you.” He offered and Katara finally did roll her eyes.

As Ruon-Jian also got up, Suki held up her hands.

“I am very happily dating this one’s brother,” Suki said, turning her hands into finger guns and pointing them at Katara. “Just to make sure we’re clear.” 

Ruon-Jian smiled and simply gestured with open hands. “I’d just be glad to talk to someone other than these two.”

Zuko ordered another round of drinks for everyone and Katara started to relax a bit more. The men were all from the Fire Nation and had travelled into Republic City for some reason that she missed. As they got more companionable, however, Toph and Chan quickly excused themselves. Claiming to only be walking Toph down to get a taxi, Chan did not return.

Another round of drinks and they started to talk about where they came from. Suki pulled out her Kyoshi accent and Katara talked about the snow village she had grown up in. Then Suki called it a night, pointedly asking Katara if she was leaving.

Except somehow, Katara ended up pressed against Zuko’s side, his arm over her shoulders.

She remembered it had started because she was cold, in her short dress and out on the roof, and Zuko told her he was a Firebender. He was naturally warm, and Katara decided to test his claim. Leaning against him, she found that he was warm, and now she didn’t want to move.

“I’m okay.” Katara said happily.

“Are you sure?” Suki asked firmly. Ruon-Jian touched Suki’s arm and smiled.

“I’ll make sure she gets into a taxi if he doesn’t.” He said and Suki sighed.

“Text me as soon as you get home or I’m telling Sokka.” She said, pointing her finger in Katara’s face.

Katara grasped her finger and shook it up and down.

“Yes ma’am.” She said.

Suki ruffled her hair as she passed.

“Have fun.” She said.

Zuko got more drinks, but handed Katara a water, much to her disappointment. The conversation started to wind down and Ruon-Jian mentioned something about ordering pizza. Both he and Zuko got up from the table, leaving Katara swaddled in Zuko’s coat.

It smelled good, like his cologne but also like fabric softener. 

“It’s last call, miss.” A woman’s voice said from behind Katara. “Can I get you anything else?”

Katara blinked slowly.

“Actually,” She said and smiled. “Yes.”

The next morning, Katara woke up with cotton residue in her mouth.

Her head pounding, she sat up in the dull light and rubbed her eyes.

This was not her room. Her room was much smaller and had clothes still on the floor from getting ready. Her bed was also much smaller and the sheets were not this bright. Hers were the flannel ones with snowmen on them because she hadn’t packed away her winter linens yet.

Panicking, Katara looked around the room to try and get her bearings. She found on the nightstand next to her a nice alarm clock, a cup of water, and a bottle of headache medicine. Taking two pills and chugging the water, Katara then shifted under the comforter. 

She was still in her dress from last night.

Slowly slipping out of the bed, Katara avoided looking around too much, suddenly concerned with snooping.

Opening the door to the bedroom, Katara walked out into a small hallway. She passed another open door and peered in, seeing a neat little office setup. Then she came to the top of a staircase and peered down to where it opened up. She could see an open living room, but not much else.

The light was brighter down there, as the bedroom was equipped with blackout curtains for some reason. As she stepped quietly down the stairs, Katara held a gasp as she found a body sleeping on the couch. Zuko sprawled uncomfortably along its length, and Katara immediately turned her head and went hunting for her purse.

Was it the walk of shame if she hadn’t slept with him? She assumed she hadn’t slept with him, but had they done something?

Spotting her purse on a table next to the front door, with her shoes standing neatly on the floor underneath, Katara stepped quickly toward them. But as she rummaged through her purse looking for her phone, she swore under her breath when she realized it was gone.

“I’s plugged in.” Zuko slurred from the couch. Katara turned and saw one of his arms thrown over his face, the other one extended with his hand waving in the air toward his TV.

“Your battery was dying.” He added and rolled over to put his face into the cushions.

“Are you okay?” Katara asked as she walked over.

“Yuh. ‘m fine.” His voice was muffled by the couch. “I’m tired.”

“Did we…?” Katara trailed off and she could see his body stiffen. Zuko then turned, squinting up at her in the light. 

“No.” He said. “But you might want to call your friend. Like now.”

Her eyes widening, Katara froze.

“Why?” She asked.

“You kinda told her that you were coming back to my place to, well,” Zuko’s face reddened and Katara blushed at the inference. “I just think you should call her to let her know you’re okay.”

Katara turned toward the TV and found her phone sitting on the stand next to a game controller. Unplugging the cable, she winced at the number of texts and missed calls.

Most of which from her brother.

“Hey.” Katara said as she stood, tapping her phone in her hand and keeping her back to Zuko.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” She asked. As she waited for an answer, she squeezed her phone in her hands and held her breath.

“Is that what you want?” Zuko questioned.

Katara turned to him and smiled weakly.

“I know what I want. But,” Katara looked down at her phone. “I’m not rude now.” 

“So what does that mean?”

Her nerves now emboldening her, Katara met his gaze and her smile changed into a smirk.

“It means the polite thing is to get food first.” She said.

Zuko laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t even know me.”

“That’s the point of a date.” Katara replied.

Zuko stopped, his hand still in his hair, his face blank. Then a smile spread slowly over his face.

“Fine. But what are you going to wear?” He asked.

[marvxlousqueen]

Warren Worthington- Trust

requested by anon: could you do a warren one where the reader has a super dangerous mutation that's fueled by their emotions, and warren helps them out with it and they fall in love? 

word count: 2.1K

warnings: reader and warren are like 18 y/o idk it just happened lmao, cussing, fluff heheheje, not proofread lmao

A/N: thanks for requesting ily! also i really like this like at first i didn’t know where it was going but now i really like it :))

“Hello, (Y/n). Welcome to the school for the gifted.”

“Doesn’t exactly feel like a gift.”

“It never does, at first.”

It had always felt like a curse. Being able to form fire in her own hands could’ve been an amazing skill. Being unable to control when it formed- that was the main issue. 

“Come along now, (Y/n). Let’s have a look at what we’re dealing with.”

Charles and Hank led her into the training gym and onto one of the mats in the center. Sitting on the mat was a boy, probably around her age. He seemed normal- besides the huge feathered wings on his back. 

“Warren, (Y/n). (Y/n), Warren. He’s fairly new here as well, but he’s had great experience with all sorts of mutations.”

“Hi- nice to meet you.”  The boy Warren stuck his hand out, expecting a handshake. 

“Hi, yeah. Can’t touch you- sorry.”

He nodded, taking a step back. 

Great, now I’ve scared him off, she thought. 

“Alright, well- can you show me what I’m working with here?”

“What do you mean- working with?”

He puffed up his wings, “I’m training you, going to be teaching you until you get a hang of whatever it is you do. Charles didn’t tell you?”

“No, he did not.” (Y/n) turned to look back, hoping to find Charles and request a different teacher (perhaps one who wasn’t so attractive and distracting?), only to find that he and Hank had already left.

“Show me.”

“I can’t do it on command. And how are you going to help me? You have wings, not flamethrowers for hands like me.”

“Flamethrowers for hands? The fuck does that mean? And how can you not control it? You’re 18! Get a grip on it.”

“Shut up! I’m trying my best!” As her words left her mouth, her hands were suddenly engulfed in flames. 

“Holy shit-”

“See? Flamethrowers for hands.”

Warren walked closer, inspecting her hands from a slight distance as to not get burned. “Can- can you throw the fire?”

“Yeah, not with great aim, but yeah.”

“Do it. Aim at the basketball hoop.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes before lifting a hand towards the hoop. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on launching the fire.

Warren tapped his foot, getting impatient. “Come on, already. Just do it.”

“Shut up, I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough.”

“Shut up!” (Y/n)’s eyes snapped back open as she shot backwards, hitting the mat. Fire rushed from her hand at such a speed she was literally thrown back. Looking up, she saw the net of the hoop was on fire.

“Put it out! Put it out!” 

Warren rushed over towards the hoop before turning around. “Fuck! I don’t have water- I should’ve gotten water!”

“How do you not have water when you asked me to shoot FIRE?”

“How are you unable to control your mutation when you’ve had it for SO long?”

“Shut up!” (Y/n) felt the flames grow hotter in her hands, slowing moving up to cover her forearms, slightly singeing her clothes. The flames didn’t hurt- felt more like a warm embrace around her. 

Warren ran out the gym, returning with a garden hose, spraying the hoop down. The flames were put out after a minute or so. Then Warren turned to (Y/n), hose still spewing water. 

“Can you put yourself out or do I have to?”

“What? Do not fucking spray me, I swear-”

Warren lifted the hose and ran towards her, spraying her completely. Her clothes were dripping wet by the time the fire was put out. 

“Warren. I swear to GOD.” (Y/n) felt her arms get warm again, despite having just been put out. 

“Woah, woah- okay, okay. Calm down!”

She stepped towards him. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do. You SPRAYED me!” 

Warren stepped back, holding the hose for support. “(Y/n), (Y/n)! It’s your emotions, okay? They fuel your power. If you can learn to control your temper, you’ll be able to control your mutation.”

The fires grew hotter. “Are you calling me emotional? Jesus Christ- anytime a woman gets upset, guys always call her “emotional” or “crazy” so don’t fucking-”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Trust me. Just calm your breathing and put out your arms. We can work with this.”

(Y/n) ran to Warren, making him run backwards before slipping in all the water the hose had sprayed. She took the hose from him, spraying her arms. (Y/n) took a seat on the floor in the water and closed her eyes to focus on her breathing. 

“What in the hell-”

“Raven! Hank! Hi- I have everything under control.”

Hank and Raven had managed to walk in at the perfect time. (Y/n)’s clothes were still smoking and water was everywhere. Everywhere. 

“Clean this up. Now. I’ll come back later to check in.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Warren ran back outside to finally turn off the hose. He walked it back to the yard and wrapped it up nice and pretty.  When he returned, (Y/n) was still seated on the wet floor. 

“You want to help me get some towels? Clean this place up?”

She nodded, moving to stand up. 

“Here.” Warren stuck out his hand, offering to help her up. 

(Y/n) laughed, “You really think that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

(Y/n) felt her heart jump. It had been so long since she’s actually been able to touch anyone. Hug anyone. Kiss anyone. She had always been too scared, the other person the same. But Warren- Warren trusted her. 

She took his hand and stood up. 

“I’m not on fire!”

He laughed, dropping her hand. “That’s a good start!”

The pair headed into the locker rooms, grabbing a shit ton of towels and a mop to dry the floor. 

Warren was busying mopping up the water while (Y/n) went behind him, getting the excess water he missed with a towel. 

“So.. how do you have so much experience with different mutations? You seem young.”

“I mean- I am young, but I spent a few years doing cage fights. Against other mutants, you know? I faced a lot of new mutations and learned a good bit along the way. Charles and Hank figured since I had seen more action than most kids here, I’d be able to help you.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked-”

Warren stopped mopping to look back at her, “No- no, you’re fine. I’m open about it. I didn’t have a choice back then, but now I’m just happy that my years there can be some sort of use for good now.”

(Y/n) nodded, looking back down. “You did help, by the way. I’d never really noticed the whole emotions thing. It makes perfect sense though. The only times I’ve been able to produce flame is when I’m mad or embarrassed. Like one time in 8th grade I saw my friend kissing my crush and my hands just exploded into fire- it was awful.”

“She sounds like a bitch.”

“Oh yeah, totally. Dropped her real quick after that.”

Warren laughed, wringing out the mop after getting the last bit of water. 

Training with Warren had been going quite well. They had been working together for about a week now. Warren would try different tactics to get (Y/n) mad and have her work on calming herself down. 

“You need to be able to put yourself out first, then we’ll work on getting yourself mad so you can fight.”

She had developed a breathing routine to calm herself down. It had worked every time so far- just sometimes took longer than others. 

“Four in, four out.”

“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”

The fire in her hand was extinguished as her breathing slowed. 

“Good! That’s great! You’re killing it, (Y/n)!” Warren pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight. “I’m so proud!”

(Y/n)’s heart began to race as he pulled her close. Suddenly hands burst into flames, making her jump back. 

Warren looked down at her hands. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Fuck- no, you’re fine! I’m just-”

Warren shook his head. “No- um, we’ve done enough today, it’s fine. I should go anyways.” He walked quickly to the door, face burning (just like (Y/n)’s hands). 

“O-oh, okay. See you..later.” Warren was already out the door when she got the right words out. “Oh fuck me.”

After doing her breathing exercise, (Y/n) was able to calm the fires in her hands. She made her way back to her room, purposefully passing Warren’s on the way. She leaned up against his door, hoping to hear if he was inside. Nothing. Disappointed, she went to her room.

Warren was buried under his comforter, head squished into his pillow. 

“Knock, knock.”

“Go away, Scott.”

Scott pushed the door open, sad to see his friend curled up. 

“So she shut you down, huh?”

Warren rolled over to face him, kicking off the blanket. “No, I didn’t even get to ask her out like I wanted. But I understand her answer anyway.”

Scott sat down on the floor, looking up at him. “What does that mean?”

“I hugged her and her hands caught on fire. She only catches fire when she’s mad- meaning, she was mad that I hugged her because she doesn’t like me.”

“That is a lot of assuming. Why don’t you ask her out and see?”

“No! Then she would shut me down for real. And it’d be awkward- I mean, how can I train her when I know she doesn’t like me back, but I’m crazy about her?”

“Warren. She likes you. She totally likes you! Just ask her out. Trust me.”

“No.” 

Scott stood up, rolling his eyes (although Warren couldn’t see that through his glasses). “Fine, I’ll do it for you.”

“What? No you won’t.” 

Warren heard the door close, making him sit up quickly. “Scott?”

Scott was sprinting down the hallway towards (Y/n)’s room, looking behind him every couple seconds to make sure Warren wasn’t catching up. 

“Oh fuck me!” Warren jumped out of bed, running out of his room without even putting shoes on. 

“Scott! Stop!” 

Scott sped up, finally making it to the girls hallway. He reached her door, banging on it quickly. 

“Summers! I swear to god, I will KILL you!”

(Y/n) opened the door, “What? Oh- hey Scott, what’s-”

“No!” Warren tried to stop in front of her door, but his socks made him slip and collide with Scott, knocking them both to the floor. 

“What’s happening?” 

Warren stood up, pushing Scott down again. “Just forget whatever he said!”

(Y/n) furrowed her brows, “He didn’t say anything.”

“He didn’t?” Warren looked down at Scott, who was just now getting off the floor, “You didn’t?”

“Not yet- Warren wants wants to go out with you.”

“Shut up!” Warren pushed his wing into Scott’s chest, making him fall again. “No- I- I don’t! Just ignore him, he has- he has brain damage.”

(Y/n) nodded slowly, “This isn’t funny, okay? I don’t know what Jean told you, but going this far to tease me isn’t funny, so fuck off.” 

She slammed the door, quickly doing her breathing exercise before her hands caught fire. 

“Wait, what? (Y/n) open up. Please.”

She could hear Warren lean against her door. “No.”

“Please.”

“Is Scott still there?” 

Scott stood up, putting a hand on her door for support. “I’m here.”

Warren pushed him away. “Go away! Why are you still here?”

He scoffed, “For support, you ungrateful dickwad!”

Warren sighed, “Scott, please go. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay. Consider me gone.” Scott turned on his heel, leaving the girls hallway.

Warren knocked on her door. “It’s just me now.”

(Y/n) slowly opened the door. 

“I was never trying to tease you, I swear. I don’t know anything about you and Jean or whatever happened there- I-i did want to ask you out, b-but..”

“But what? You don’t like me anymore?”

“No! No! I really like you, it’s just- I hugged you today and you’re hands caught on fire and I thought you were mad because you didn’t like me and-”

“I like you.”

Warren’s mouth stopped working. He nodded slowly.

(Y/n) opened the door wider. “That’s what I was talking about- with Jean and everything. I told her I liked you and then she told Scott and then Scott showed up here-” she sighed, “felt like it might’ve been a prank or something, sorry.”

Warren shook his head, stepping into her room. “I really like you, (Y/n).”

His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips. Warren moved closer, leaning into her. He pressed his lips against hers. She jumped back. 

“Sorry! Fuck- I’m on fire.”

“Are you-”

“I’m just shy and get embarrassed around you- that’s what happened earlier.”

“Oh! T-that makes sense, okay, yeah.” 

(Y/n) nodded, slowing her breathing to calm herself down.

“C-can I kiss you again?”

“You really think that’s a good idea?”

Warren shrugged, stepping closer. “I trust you.”

taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @billyhargovesgurl @babebenhardy @rexorangecouny @cyndagoaway @killcomet @mcrmarvelloki @queen-turtle-boiii @hardlylo @ziggymay @jacqueline1916 @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ixchel-9275

hmu to be added!!

[negaifreak]

Ben 10: Young Justice - Independence Day PART I

Washington D.C., July 4th 14:30 EDT

"Ah..." Ben Tennyson yawned from the backseat of Kevin Levin's muscle car. He, his cousin Gwen, and Kevin were finishing up a cross country tour as a means of their summer vacation after saving the Earth from the Highbreed invasion. At least, that's what they knew. Pretty much everyone else didn't.

It didn't bother Ben that much, but what did was the fact that now things were boring again. He hadn't done anything superhero-related since the invasion. It wasn't like he needed to do anything anyways. Any crimes that were afoot outside of Bellwood were handled by other heroes. Specifically, the Justice League.

"We could make one last stop at the Hall of Justice before we head back to Bellwood," Gwen offered, looking at the GPS on her phone.

"Ugh..." Kevin groaned, rolling his eyes, "And do what exactly?" he asked, "Wait all day for some rando superhero to show up?" he guessed, evidently uninterested by the prospect.

"Well, you don't know!" Gwen argued, "We could see Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman..." she listed off to his dismay as he kept driving, "I'd love to meet Zatara!" she mentioned excitedly, "Don't you have a favorite, Kevin?" she inquired curiously.

"Uh, yeah," he stuttered, "I like the Green Lantern guys 'cause... they're basically like Plumbers," he admitted, glancing over to see the skeptical eyebrow on his girlfriend's face in response.

"Really?" she said, crossing her arms. Ben inwardly sighed. He liked the Justice League. Heck, he wished he could be part of it. But of course, no one knew who he really was. Secret identities were just part of the protocol for him. And he had to pay the price. "Ben, would you wanna stop by the Hall?" his cousin offered. He didn't answer. He was looking out the window at the streets they passed by. "Ben, are you all right?" she asked in concern.

"Huh? O-Oh, yeah..." he stuttered in response, having drowned out the conversation, "I like... Martian Manhunter..." he blurted out. He only managed to hear part of the discussion. Now Gwen sighed.

"Kevin, pull over," she requested. He blinked in surprise, but did as told seconds later, pulling over at a sidewalk with just a few cars nearby. Gwen turned herself around to look at Ben. "We should talk while we've got the chance," she advised. Ben glanced around in confusion.

"We... weren't talking all this summer?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"She means about the whole 'resetting your watch' thing," Kevin chimed in.

"Exactly," Gwen said, "Ben, why did you have Azmuth keep the watch down to ten aliens again?" she asked out of worry, "And why remove Way Big and Alien X, too?" she asked on.

"Huh..." Ben sighed deeply, folding his arms over his chest, "You know how whenever I've gotten an upgrade to the Omnitrix after saving the world, I've always been kind of a jerk?" he insinuated. To Gwen and Kevin, that came out of nowhere. They glanced at each other before looking back at Ben.

"Yeah... back when you were ten..." Gwen responded, "Ben, you were okay with Azmuth doing all that?" she inquired out of shock.

"I asked him to!" Ben retorted, "I... just wanted to keep things simple," he claimed, looking away out the window, "You know, stick with ten..." he added.

"Uh-huh," Kevin muttered sarcastically, "If you wanted to make things simple," he kept going, "you would've just kept what aliens you got back and asked Azmuth for the Master Control," he told Ben.

"I just... don't wanna be greedy, all right?" he argued back, slumping down in his seat. His teammates looked at him with surprised expressions. Was he really this selfless?

"Ben... you've changed..." Gwen realized, catching his attention, "And... for the better, I think..." she admitted with a smile. He let off a grin in return. She seemed to understand finally.

"So are we gonna head to the Hall on foot?" Kevin inquired, breaking back into the conversation. Gwen checked her phone again.

"It's only a couple miles, and we could use the exercise..." she pointed out, "Plus, I'd rather we not sit in the car all the way there..." she added.

"Fair point..." her boyfriend muttered in reply. He reached into his glove box to pull out spare change for the meter they were parked beside. Meanwhile, Ben had stopped paying attention as he had noticed a tower of black smoke just a ways away from where they were. Normally, he'd tell Gwen and Kevin if something was afoot, but today, he felt like going on his own...

"Okay, we're walking," Gwen declared, turning around, "Ben, I hope you're- Ben?" she uttered, interrupting herself as she widened her eyes. Kevin turned around.

"Oh, great," he grumbled. Ben wasn't there. Flying overhead towards the plume of smoke was Big Chill, who slowly descended and landing upon a building facing the one on fire.

"Cadmus, huh?" he mumbled, narrowing his eyes onto the sign, "Wonder what set this off..." he said to himself. He was about to descend the moment he saw two scientists fall from the second floor down. Just then though, a blur sped in and caught them, carrying the two scientists back up to the second floor window before slipping and almost falling himself. Big Chill widened his eyes. "Kid Flash?!" he exclaimed upon seeing the superhero sidekick. He then took notice of another figure down with the firefighters, manipulating the water from their hoses to create a makeshift pillar that shot up to get to the scientists. "Aqua Lad, too?!" Big Chill yelped. And then he saw someone else jump in and help get Kid Flash into the building. "And Robin..." Big Chill uttered in disbelief, "Oh man, this just got really interesting..." he noted to himself. Was there a chance that working alongside sidekicks could get him noticed by the Justice League? That's exactly what he thought. And no one had seemed to finish off the fire... "Hero time," the Necrofriggian said, flying out into the open and unleashing a cold spray of breath onto the flames. Everyone looked on and widened their eyes to see Big Chill fly over and into the building. Aqua Lad seemed the least surprised.

"That is new..." he noted, narrowing his eyes. As Big Chill's feet touched the floor inside, he folded up his wings around his body.

"Don't move!" a voice suddenly commanded, catching his attention as he turned to see Kid Flash and Robin standing there in ready stances.

"Whoa, wait a sec," Big Chill began as he put his hands up in a placating manner, "Doesn't putting out the fire put me on your side?" he inquired curiously.

"It does," Aqua Lad's voice answered, causing him to turn around and see him there, "but we would like to know more about who you are first..." he stated firmly.

"Look, just call me Big Chill for now," the Necrofriggian replied pleadingly, "More importantly, why are you guys here?" he asked, "Fire's out, people are safe, etcetera..." he listed off.

"Yeah, like we'd tell the bug-eyed monster who can talk," Kid Flash remarked in response.

"Huh..." Big Chill sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Robin was hacking into one of the computers. What exactly were the three sidekicks up to?

He'd soon find out and would likely regret it...

[duallygirl178]

Dearest O'Malley Chapter 16

Chapter 16

It was Friday afternoon when Robin and Gonzo came over to hang out at my house. Robin brought over a 32 pack of “Blue Ribbon” beer. As we were talking and laughing, Robin announced; “Let’s play a drinking game called ‘I never’ it’s where we say something and say you’ve never had or did anything in your life and take a drink of beer.” I looked at Gonzo. I thought this was a social beer drinking activity. Out of all the things to do, it got my attention. I burped and said; “Let’s do it.” then I took a drink of beer as Robin started us off. He thought a moment and said; “Okay. I’ve never gotten so drunk that I didn’t know I was throwing peach pies at people walking by.”

What? Throwing peach pies? Who would do a thing like that? I had to admit and imagine Robin doing stuff like that. I laughed as we took a drink of beer. I had a turn and said; “I’ve never once been driven in 15 years and look at me now.” Robin and Gonzo took a sip of beer. Gonzo had a turn and said; “I’ve never smoked weed in a drive-in diner and never caught.” And again, Robin and I took a drink of beer. It was my  turn again and I was already starting to feel a little bit buzzed after that fourth beer. So I  shook it off and said; “I’ve never driven on a railroad track drunk out of my carburetor.” I hiccuped dizzily as Robin and Gonzo took a drink of their beer. Gonzo took a turn again and he said; “I’ve never went all day without picking a right with somebody.” I  scowled a little unsteadily and said; “Aw, fin-fart it.” Robin and I took a sip of beer. Next it was Robin’s turn. He burped and said; “I’ve got a good one. I’ve never stuffed 200 ghost pepp-plers  in my mouth.” Robin was starting to get a little drunk too but holy junket that one was serious. In fact it was so serious that it was good. Gonzo and I took a drink of our beers. It was my turn now. I giggled almost too hysterically and said; “I’ve never sprayed pesticides on my nuts.” Gonzo and Robin sprayed out their beer in which they were going to swallow and laughed out loud. I corrected to them sternly; “On my figgin’ lug nuts…on my lug nuts!” Robin and Gonzo  still laughed. I hiccupped and incoherently said; “You two are…the worst! Shame in you.”    When the two of them settled down, it was Robin’s turn again. He took a deep breath, belched and said; “I’ve never crashed into a nail salon so drunk that it…that I got my hubcaps stolen.” well that went lame really fast. Gonzo and I took another drink of our beers. Gonzo belched deeply and said; “I’ve never chased and ran over a midget in a tutu.” I chuckled as if I reached my drunkest level. I’ve never heard Gonzo say something like that before. Whenever a game fell weak, it was either Robin or Gonzo that always got it going again. Robin and I took another drink of beer. By then, I was feeling super drunk. It was my turn again. Instead of staying with the ‘I never’ subject, I took a lighter, fired it up without notice and said; “Guys look, I’m testing my alcohol level on a DUI.” then I belched out the hottest and loudly burp there was into the fire and flames whooshed up like mushroom cloud. The three of us laughed out loud. But it was suddenly that I wasn’t feeling too good. I felt nauseous and I threw up over the side of the house. I had too much to drink. I could tell you one thing! I was close  to alcohol poisoning. Robin and Gonzo made a gross look and Robin hiccupped too and said; “Dude, are you okay? You look like you had alcohol poisoning or something.” I hurled again and pathetically replied; “Uh-huh. I’ll be right back.” I made my way into the house and came back out with a glass of water to sober me up. I carefully sipped it so I didn’t dare throw up again. Robin drank his beer, burped hotly and looked at Ol’ Reliable who was taking a nap. He smiled and said; “hey guys, I just thought of something hilarious.” Robin pulled out, spotted a tumble weed with the longest stem, and stuck it inside Ol’ Reliable’s tailpipe. The three of us giggled at him. Gonzo took pictures of Ol’ Reliable sleeping with a tumble weed in his pipe. I had an additional idea that would be funnier. I told the guys; “wait, I have something funny to add. I’ll go get it.”

I went inside the house, went to Carol’s old bathroom, looked in the bathroom drawer, and got some make-up items that Carol bought from the AVON store. I came outside and carefully applied all of the make-up on Ol’ Reliable. None of us couldn’t keep quiet on our laughter. I was almost caught until Ol’ Reliable had to slurp up a drop of mucus back inside his mouth which he had been drooling. I continued on by applying the make-up on Ol’ Reliable’s face. When I was done, I took a picture of him with the make-up on. Robin took pictures too and laughed. I chortled  and said; “He looks like a victim of assault.” Robin and Gonzo came close to wetting themselves because it was so funny. Robin took a minute to calm down and said; “I just can’t believe he hasn’t noticed.”

We started to look at the pictures that we took and laughed some more as we made our own jokes. Ol’ Reliable woke up from his nap as we were giggling. He asked us; “What’s so funny guys?” I came close to bursting out laughing until I swallowed my pride and said; “Nothing. Why don’t you ask Natalie if you can borrow some facial cleaner.” Robin took a sneaky picture of Ol’ Reliable as I spoke to him. He gave us a death stare and proceeded into the house. Robin chuckled and said; “Dude, the ‘why don’t you ask Natalie if you can borrow her facial cleaner’ bit was brilliant. Man you almost had me fall over“ I chuckled back and said; “Well, when you got a mess on your face, you got a victim-of-assault-man look.” Gonzo and Robin laughed back and forth until they were laughing wheezy with hysteria. I made a pretty good punch line there and I was so proud of it. Gonzo calmed down and said; “Oh, O’Malley, how ever did you get so amazing?” I snickered and clearly responded; “My mother taught me well. Now didn’t she?” Gonzo and Robin bursted out another wheezing laugh. Robin inhaled and said; “You’re the best.” I just told Robin that it was nothing. But then at that moment, we heard a loud and angry scream from inside the house that sounded like; “I’LL KILL YOU O’MALLEY!! IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL THE MALIBU CARS!” We paused, listened and giggled. Ol’ Reliable was funny when he yelled because he sounded like Charlie Green from all those “Angry Grandpa” videos on YOUTUBE and you could hear him from thirty feet away. Ol’ Reliable stormed out of the door , came up tome and screamed; “I’m going to tell you one thing. When you go missing, your face will end up on milk-a-ma cartons! You hear me little boy?” I smiled in  fearless satisfaction. Ol’ Reliable  can be so naïve but can also be aggravating. Robin and Gonzo looked scared after that threat, but I wasn’t scared. I noticed that Ol’ Reliable still had that tumbleweed stuck in his tailpipe. I wanted to laugh out loud as he departed  back to his nap. I only giggled softly and said; “He still has that tumbleweed up his fanny pipe” Robin and Gonzo chuckled deeply. Ol’ Reliable looked at us quickly and said; “What’re you al laughing at?” The three of us shut up quickly and said; “Nothing.” Ol’ Reliable settled back down for his nap and when his eyes were closed,  I looked at my two friends and asked; “anyone noticed that he had a hose broken other than having a tumbleweed up his pipe and smeared make-up?” Robin and Gonzo looked at each other and then at me. They looked back at each other again. They quickly looked at Ol’ Reliable and studied him. Then, they saw it and murmured incoherently. Robin looks at me once more and said; “Shouldn’t we tell him that he needs to fix his pipe?” I stared at Ol’ Reliable, shook my hood and said; “Nah, if we told him, he’d do more than just fix us.” Robin and Gonzo nodded and perished the whole thought of telling Ol’ Reliable about a broken pipe.

What could I say, we all got drunk and we weren’t thinking twice on what we were doing. The next time I would catch Ol’ Reliable doing something obvious like watching a cheesy music video on Nathan’s laptop to a song called “Take on me” by A-Ha, I’d get it on video camera.

When Gonzo and Robin calmed down after that whole meltdown from Ol’ Reliable. We looked at the pictures on each of our cameras. I had a look gazing at Gonzo’s picture. I laughed and said; “Not bad.  He looks like he was assaulted and left out in the mid-desert.” Gonzo quickly looked at picture and looked closer as if I was kidding. He squinted and said; “Well bag my buttons! You’re not lying.” Robin had a look-see too and laughed out; “Oh man! He looks like he can be on Law and Order…raped in a guy’s body.” Gonzo and I laughed out loud. It was true, Ol’ Reliable did look like he could be on air. Gonzo pointed and said; “No, no. Sesame Street: The Street Files.”  I just about had a laugh attack. How ridiculous can Gonzo get when it comes to photos and being drunk out of the hood?  Robin tried to settle me down because I was laughing so hard, I could talk. He patted on my fender and said; “Calm down, O’Malley. Breathe.” I came to chuckling and I tried to say; “Man! Gonzo, you’re a total Muppet, did you know that?” Gonzo and Robin spoke to each other at the same time, I had no idea what they were saying. It was all a clamoring conversation.

We stuck around a few more hours until dinner. Gonzo and Robin joined me for another beer after dinner. I was just remembering when I was still drunk earlier today. Then over dinner, I remembered when I vomited on the house. I had almost got alcohol poisoning and i realized, I was happy that I didn’t get poisoned. I reached for one beer and held my ground whenever the craving urged me to have another. I was good at my own self-control.  Little did I know that I wasn’t trying to give 51 a bad reputation for being drunk a lot when folks in their senior year turn to their 50s.

After dinner, Gonzo and Robin thanked me for having them over for dinner as they went home. When they left, I went to go lay down because I was getting a hangover and a headache. I laid down on Joe’s chair in misery. Natalie placed a warm blanket and wrapped me around it. Next she went to get me some pain pills and a glass of water to intake for my pounding headache. When I finished the water, Natalie refilled it for me. She would do that each time I drank all the water that was in the glass. I wasn’t feeling any better so I moved to a bedroom that was nice and quiet with darkness to settle my headache down. Today was pretty fun and I enjoyed it because I had enough of it. I laid down on the bed and went to sleep.

[yespleasefandomtrash]

AlMei Week 2017 - Adventure/Home

Sorry for this later upload – things got in the way. But at least it's still on the correct day! This chapter is kind of a precursor of how things are going to play out in the final chapters, if that makes any sense. Anyways, I hope you enjoy Day 5: Adventure/Home. This chapter fits more with 'home.'

Read this chapter on fanfiction.net here.

Read Day 4 here.

xXxXxXx

A few days had passed since the discovery of the unique hair in the dried blood – neither of which matched or was even similar to that of Maes Hughes. Despite the moment of rejoicing that had brought, almost no progress had been made since then. DNA and hair were completely useless if there was nothing to compare them to. Edward was trying his best, but unfortunately he couldn’t just walk up to Neid and Luxure and politely ask them for DNA and hair samples.

Mei chuckled to herself. The obnoxious officer had said he would be completely on board to do that, but both she and Alphonse had advised against it. In the end, being so blunt wouldn’t really work in their favor. If anything, it would make getting samples even harder.

She took the coffee off the pot and poured it into a cup, mixing in only a little sugar. She’d preferred her coffee black for as long as she could remember – it dark and bitter, like how she felt at the end of every day. Such a thing was only too fitting.

She sighed as she headed to the main room and slowly sat on the couch, taking extreme care not to spill the hot liquid onto anything. The Xingese woman had been so tired lately. She assumed it was a mixture of performing an average of four autopsies a day – which really was sad when one thought about it – and stressing constantly over the Hughes case.

Mei knew they had to be close to catching the killer. And this time around, it wasn’t just her gut instinct telling her that. She’d started receiving more threatening letters, and after dusting the prints for herself and examining it under the microscope, she was able to determine that it matched not only the prints from other threatening letters but also the one found at the crime scene.

She cursed under her breath upon realizing she’d completely forgotten about checking Hughes’ body for latent prints. She’d have to do it first thing the next day. In fact, it’d probably be best if she arrived at the office early to spray the body before anyone got there...

She sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. It was late, and she’d been at the office all day. According to her watch it was almost midnight, meaning she had been up nearly 24 hours, since she’d been called around two that morning to report to a scene. That was why her coffee was decaf – she didn’t need to be staying up any later than necessary.

Her own yawn interrupted her thoughts, and the Xingese doctor considered dumping the rest of her coffee and just heading right to bed. For all she knew she’d be called out in less than an hour because someone had tripped and fallen into traffic, resulting in their untimely death.

Unfortunately, that had happened before.

Mei slowly got up from the couch and returned to the kitchen, emptying what was left of her coffee into the sink before rinsing the cup out. She started to head to her bedroom, but paused when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

It was the letters.

After a moment of hesitation she picked them up, no longer caring about smudging prints or not. She was almost certain she’d gotten anything she could possibly get from them off already, so she considered herself free to handle them.

If you don’t learn to keep your nose out of other people’s business, Doc, there’ll come a day when you have to face the consequences.

You’re dancing awfully close to the fire. You planning to get burned?

Remember this, Doc: you’re never alone. And you never will be again.

You are going to die.

Mei hadn’t told Alphonse about the new letters. She knew he’d be furious and would probably go so far as to tell her to move out of her house, which she knew she could never do in a million years. He’d also take them a hundred times more seriously than her – she just wasn’t bothered by them.

Well... There was one letter. She’d only received it that morning, and for some reason it was getting to her in a way that the others weren’t. It was only two words:

Watch out.

Unlike the other few letters, it seemed to truly be hinting at something. Some sort of action. And she was absolutely terrified it was going to happen soon.

Mei shook herself, trying to get rid of the sinking feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t allow nerves to keep her up all night if she planned to report to her office early. She placed the letters back onto the counter and left the kitchen quicker than she’d care to admit.

She’d deal with it all tomorrow.

xXxXxXx

Mei was awakened by the smell of smoke slamming roughly into her nose and rapidly filling her lungs. Her eyes flew open only to find that dark, thick, ‘fog’ was creeping into her room from the crack underneath the door. Coughing, she jumped out of bed, mind reverting to autopilot strictly from the will to survive. Instinctively she pressed her hands to the door, only managing to keep them there for a second before jerking them away.

The heat was intense even through the door, which meant the fire was either started just outside of her bedroom or had spread there – and either way it was threatening to burn through the wood.

Her coughs grew faster and more the frequent. The Xingese woman knew she couldn’t stay in there much longer if she wanted to escape at least relatively unscathed. She hesitated before grabbing her phone off of her dresser and shoving it underneath her arm. Relieved her bedroom was on the first floor, she flung open her window and jumped out, running all the way to the edge of her yard before turning around. What she saw nearly made her heart stop.

Her entire house was on fire.

Flames appeared to be shooting out the windows, and black smoke was leaking out of places she didn’t think were possible. She could faintly smell the familiar stink of gasoline, and suspected that was the accelerant used to set her house ablaze as quickly as possible.

Watch out.

The words danced in her mind and spiraled right in front of her eyes. Alphonse had been right. She’d been a fool not to take those letters seriously.

Mei pinched her arm and snapped out of her reverie. She couldn’t dwell on what she could – should – have done. What was happening now was happening now, and that was something she had the power to change.

She dialed 911 into her phone, unable to stop herself from anxiously tapping her foot on the ground as she waited for the operator to pick up.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

“My house is on fire.” The Xingese woman winced at how exhausted and scratchy her voice sounded. “I live at 1628 Willow Street. Please hurry.”

“I’m sending people your way immediately, ma’am. Is there any way you can somehow contain it?”

“No. I was lucky I woke up before it spread into my room.” She laughed, a strained laugh full of bitterness. “I’m not going to have a house after this.”

“Firemen and police officers are headed towards you, as well as paramedics just in case. I ask that you do not leave the immediate vicinity, ma’am.”

“Of course.” Mei hung up, her heart heavy. Everything. Everything was gone, or was going to be. Anything that made it through would have done so by a hair and would be rendered completely useless. She’d be lucky if the framework of her house was still standing at the end of this.

Out of the corner of her eye Mei noticed something sticking out of her mailbox. Frowning, she walked over to it, her burning home momentarily pushed to the back of her mind. She pulled it out, realizing it was an envelope.

“Oh no...”

Not caring whether she destroyed any prints or not, the Xingese woman practically ripped it open to get to what was inside, ignoring her gradually building nausea.

You continued to play with fire – and now you’ve gotten burned. Don’t say we didn’t warn you, Doctor. Soon you’ll be ashes like everything else.

Mei knew her face had to be white as a sheet. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to give up and yet she didn’t. How could she give the killer that satisfaction? The answer was simple – she couldn’t. And yet she still felt as if something had just been broken inside her. Something she wasn’t sure could ever be fixed.

Thankfully her attention was taken away from the letter when she heard sirens wailing, getting louder by the second. Before she knew it three firetrucks and several police cruisers were in her driveway. It was almost a blur as they hooked up their hoses to the fire hydrant and started dousing her home.

But what really distracted her were the strong arms that suddenly wrapped around her body.

“Mei,” Alphonse mumbled, burying his face in her messy hair. “I was so worried. But you’re alive.” He inhaled a shuddering breath. “Thank God you’re alive!”

Mei crumbled, turning and throwing her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. Tears starting flowing, she knew they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

And together they stood as the fire blazed, neither one daring to break away.

xXxXxXx

“And this is the one I found in my mailbox after – or during, I suppose – the fire.”

Mei watched Alphonse’s hands tremble in rage as he read the letter that had made her burst into sobs and not stop for what felt like years but couldn’t have been longer than twenty minutes.

“I swear,” he said, his fist clenching and crumpling the corner of the paper, “that I will kill whoever’s responsible for this with my bare hands.”

She gave him a soft smile. “That won’t be necessary. Locking them up in prison will do just fine.”

He sighed. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm about this. Mei, you’ve just lost everything. I hate to put it like that, but you know it’s true. And yet you don’t seem to be angry at all. If I didn’t know you so well, I’d say that you don’t even care.”

Mei shrugged. “I attribute part of it to exhaustion. It’s three in the morning and I only slept for a few hours before I was rudely awakened. It doesn’t help that shock is one hell of a drug.” She ran her hands through her hair. “I still haven’t come to terms with it, in all honesty.” She shook her head. “Tomorrow it’s going to slam me in the face. I already know it.”

Alphonse looked as if he wanted to say more, but stopped himself. “I understand. You should get some rest. I’ll –” His phone rang, interrupting him. He rolled his eyes before answering. “Yes?” He frowned. “You want me to – alright, alright. Fine.” He removed his phone from his ear and tapped the screen. “Alright, Ed. You’re on speaker.”

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news, I’m afraid. What do you want to hear first?”

Mei groaned. Just when she’d thought things couldn’t get any worse. “Get the bad news over with, please.”

“Alright. Tell me – were the photographs of Hughes’ case as well as any other paperwork relating to it lost in the fire?”

Her eyes widened, then shut in relief. “No. I left them at my office.”

“Is it possible that the person who burned your house down was not only targeting you but also the evidence gathered that could incriminate them?”

“I... I mean, it’s certainly possible, though I can’t say for sure –”

“That’s okay,” Edward interrupted, though his voice held no malicious intent. “I don’t need confirmation. I just need your agreement that it’s a possibility.”

Mei hesitated, then nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Yes. I agree that it’s a possibility. In fact, it’s likely it was a case of two birds with one stone.”

“I figured that, too. Now here’s the bad news – Yoki has been arrested. Or will be, anyways. Neid got a warrant and plans to arrest him early tomorrow morning at your office, Mei.”

Her face paled. “What?” She shook her head fervently. “That’s impossible! Yoki is innocent! How did Neid manage to falsify evidence so well he was able to convince a judge?!”

“I don’t know, Mei – but Neid’s been in the FBI for nearly fifteen years. He’s got a lot of experience under his belt.”

Mei groaned. “That’s not fair! Is there going to be a trial?”

“Not if Neid can help it. He’s undoubtedly going to at least try to convince Yoki to plead guilty. Probably gonna threaten him or something.”

Alphonse noticed how distraught this was making the Xingese woman, and decided it was time for a change of subject. “You said you also had some good news, Ed – what is it?”

“Oh yeah,” his brother said. “That’s right. I’m afraid I’m going to have to hold off on that a bit. I’m almost at your hotel. Another five minutes and I’ll be knocking on your door.” He chuckled. “I noticed you were Mei’s room, Al. Any particular reason –”

Alphonse immediately hung up and shoved his phone into his pocket, cheeks bright red. “I’m so sorry. Ed is such an idiot.”

Mei just shook her head, his words going in one ear and out the other. “I can’t believe Yoki is going to be arrested without any proof. And it’s my fault! If I’d just been a little faster with figuring everything out – with putting the pieces together – then maybe I could have prevented it. Our killer could be locked up right now if I’d just –”

Alphonse clamped his hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her. “Mei, I want you to listen to me. This is not your fault. Okay? You’ve worked harder and done more with this case than anyone else. Don’t undermine your efforts and make them seem less because of things that are out of your control. You’ve got the killer in your grasp – now all you’ve got to do is grab them.”

Mei chuckled. “Easier said than done.”

“Maybe, but you’ve got all the evidence you need. Almost everything you’ve gotten would hold up in a court and convict someone.”

She sighed. “I know. But the DNA samples and all those prints and that hair are completely useless at the moment because I don’t have anything to compare them to. I also forgot to check for latent prints on his body, so I need to do that first thing tomorrow morning.”

“And you can,” Alphonse interrupted her. “Though maybe not first thing in the morning. You need some rest. After Edward gives us whatever his ‘good news’ is, you’re going to bed. I don’t care what you say. You’ve had too long a night to be up any longer than you have to be.”

Mei wanted to argue, but decided against it. “Fine.”

“And I’m ordering that you don’t get out of bed until at least eight tomorrow.”

Now that was something she couldn’t agree to. “I can’t sleep until eight! Winry would be forced to open up everything on her own. I can’t do that to her. She’s already had to cover my shifts several times when I was out investigating the Hughes case.”

Alphonse sighed. “Fine. Seven o’ clock.”

Mei nodded, playing along, though she knew she would be getting up around five or six to head to her office. It was just that Alphonse didn’t need to be aware of that information.

A knock at the door started the two and caused both to jump slightly.

“Hey!” It was Edward. “What are you two lovebirds doing in there?”

Alphonse looked as if he wanted to strangle his brother as he stood and walked over to the door before unlocking it. “Your ‘good news’ better be worth all this talk you’re making us put up with.”

Edward laughed. “Oh, don’t worry – it is.” He stepped into the room, allowing Alphonse to shut the door behind him. “I have two bits of good news, actually. Hopefully that’ll make up for what you’ve had to go through this evening, Mei.” Edward’s eyes were heavy. He wasn’t an idiot – he knew no matter how good the news was it couldn’t change how much had been destroyed for the Xingese woman. Even so, if he could so much as lessen the burden by even a tiny bit, he wanted to do so.

Mei managed a laugh. “Is that so? What’s your good news, Edward?”

The older Elric sat down in the chair across from them. “The best news is that Winry and I have a date tomorrow. I’ll be picking her up from work and we’re going to go to a nice restaurant and have a grand time.”

Mei’s eyes widened. “Really?” She laughed again, this time with more energy. “I can’t believe you managed to snag Winry! Just so you know, Officer – Winry is way too good for you. I’m going to remind her of that every day. So you’d best tread lightly, understand?”

Edward mock-saluted her. “Roger that, Captain.”

“What’s the rest of your news?” Alphonse asked, not wanting to seem impatient but also not wanting the conversation to drag on too long. He wanted Mei to be able to get as much rest as possible.

“Well, it’s not as great about the fact that Winry and I are going on a date together, but...” He reached into his pocket pulled out four plastic bags, each with a label stuck near the top. “I may have managed to get DNA and hair samples from Luxure and Neid.”

Mei’s eyes widened as she snatched the bags from him, not caring that such actions could be perceived as rude. “No way!” She looked up at the two Elrics, eyes twinkling in excitement. “This is amazing! I can run tests tomorrow morning, and I think today – yesterday? – was the last day of prints being added in the system, so I can scan those for hits, and we might be able to –” She shook her head, unable to find the right words.

“You’ll be able to nab them tomorrow,” Edward agreed confidently. “I’ve been around Luxure and Neid a lot lately because I was trying to get these samples, right? Let’s just say I don’t like how they were acting. Maybe it’s personal bias, but their behavior was kind of shifty.”

“In what way?” Mei asked curiously.

“Their whole demeanors were already kind of odd,” the older brother explained. “Neither talked to many people, and if they did, it was concise and either really arrogant or simplistic. I’m sure you can figure out which of them acted in what way.” He frowned. “They mostly hung around each other, in all honesty. I get the feeling they’ve known each other for a long time.” He snapped his fingers as he was reminded of something. “I almost forgot!” He reached into a different pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I got an FBI profiler to give us a basic idea of what our killer may look like and what their past could consist of.” He handed it to his brother. “You read it, Al. I’ve gone over it so many times my mind’s completely numb.”

Alphonse unfolded the paper. “White male. Late twenties to early thirties. Likely has a past history of violence but on a smaller scale. An emotionally troubled person. Both verbally and physically abusive family.” He continued to read off traits for another five minutes or so before placing the paper in his lap when he was finished. “While this list is definitely a realistic list of your typical serial killer, I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with right now.”

Mei nodded. “There’s a chance some of those qualities could apply to him, but as a whole it just doesn’t sound right.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Edward agreed. “But when I asked the profiler to try to create a different profile aligning a bit more with some of the ideas we’ve gathered, he refused, saying it was pointless.” He rolled his eyes. “I disagreed, of course, but I couldn’t pressure him. I’m only a guest on the FBI campus, after all.”

“Even so, it’s still information I think we can use to some extent,” Mei said. “So it wasn’t a total loss.”

“Some is better than none,” Alphonse added.

The three talked for a few minutes before Edward decided to take his leave. Soon it was just Alphonse and Mei in the room again.

“I want you to get some sleep, alright?” Alphonse said, crossing his arms. “If you need me I’ll be in the room across the hall.”

Mei yawned in response, already feeling tiredness overcome her. “Fine. But you need to get sleep, too – understand?”

He chuckled. “I think I can work with that.”

xXxXxXx

Hopefully this chapter wasn't a disappointment. It was interesting for me to write – and we finally got a real AlMei-type moment! Yay! Anyways, I hope you return tomorrow for Day 6: AU-Crossover/Early Mornings!

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze Pt. 6/25

(Trigger warnings for Alcohol and mentions of past child abuse in this chapter.)

Previous

The children’s screams were still echoing around Eskel’s head. The afternoon had gone pretty much the same way as the morning. The children in the afternoon had been older but no less excitable. Some of the year eleven kids had decided to make it a game to flirt with the four of them which was beyond awkward and Eskel had almost been praying for the snotty little kids back.

Geralt had only just arrived by the time they were on their second rounds of drinks, dropped off by Yennefer in her swanky sports car that was the envy of the whole team, apart from Geralt who was weirdly attached to his old truck. It had been a while since the silver-haired man had managed to join them for team drinks. Since Ciri had moved in with him, he just hadn’t been able to leave her in the evenings and he didn’t think it was fair to Coën to ask him to stay late just so he could go to the pub. It was good to have the whole team around for once. It had been too long.

Eskel hummed happily as he took a long swig of his beer and tried to push the memories of their day at school from his head. The cool frothy liquid danced over his tastebuds before hitting his stomach. He belched unashamedly and grinned at his teammates. Vesemir looked at him in disgust whilst the others laughed in amusement. Renfri smirked and burped loudly before setting her own pint down on the table.

“So boys, how was school?” Renfri asked mirthfully.

“Shit.” Lambert replied, never one for mincing his words. “A pointless waste of time if you ask me.”

“We didn’t ask you, wolf.” Vesemir chided. “The statistics will tell all in time.”

“Lighten up you old bastard.” Lambert chuckled. “Another round wolves?”

“You paying?” Eskel asked his brother.

“He’s paying.” Geralt grumbled gruffly as he emptied his own glass.

“You’re not in charge here, White Wolf?” Lambert growled.

“No. I am. Now get to the bar, Lambert. Before the barrels dry up and we all wither with old age.” Vesemir raised an eyebrow and the younger fireman huffed and sulked away towards the bar.

“Was it really that bad?” Renfri asked with a smirk. “Not that I expected anything else. That school is hell on Earth.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Eskel shrugged. “We got to spray the parents with the hose!”

“Did you now?” Vesemir gave him a disapproving stare and he schooled his expression into his best poker face.

“Accidentally, of course.”

“Bullshit!” Renfri cackled. “That I would have liked to have seen. Shame you couldn’t get old Stregobor too.”

“Shrike.” Vesemir warned cooly.

“What?! It’s just water.” Renfri challenged and crossed her arms.

The bickering went back and forth until Lambert came back with the beers. Eskel stood up to help Lambert bring the rest back to the table, slipping him a tenner to cover half the costs. Lambert could be a dick sometimes but Eskel had always felt protective over him, that’s what older siblings were for he guessed.

“Thanks.” Lambert grumbled.

“Don’t mention it.” Eskel nudged him gently with his shoulders. Some of the beer Lambert was holding sloshed over the side of the glass and onto the floor. “That one can be Geralt’s yeah?”

“You’re lucky it went on the floor and not over me.” Lambert growled and then grinned. “Fuck yeah it’s Geralt’s.”

They both laughed as they made it back to the table. By the time they got back Geralt was glaring menacingly at Renfri whilst Vesemir appeared to be doing his best to hide his amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Renfri.” Geralt huffed as Lambert dumped the less than full pint glass in front of him. “What the fuck Lambert?”

“Eskel knocked me.” Lambert shrugged. “You can go lick the rest of it off the floor if you want?”

“Hmm. I’ll pass thanks.” Geralt rolled his eyes.

“So what is our darling she-wolf talking about?” Eskel grinned as he slid back onto the bar stool.

“I was just asking Ger-Bear about his day at the school. Apparently he didn’t think it was that bad.”

“It wasn’t.”

“So I asked him why and he blushed!” Renfri cried gleefully.

“I did not blush. It’s just hot in here.” Geralt grumbled.

Eskel grinned as he spotted an opportunity to tease the white-haired fireman. He shared a knowing look with Lambert and then leant forward onto the table, grinning at Geralt. “Say, Geralt?”

“What?”

“What happened to the thermos you had this morning?” Both Vesemir and Lambert laughed as they realised that Eskel had caught Geralt in a trap.

“I was finished with it.” Geralt replied stoically.

“But it wasn’t in the truck when we left.” Lambert pressed with a smirk.

“You know what?” Eskel drawled as he sipped his beer. “One of the teachers had a flask just like it.”

“What a coincidence…” Geralt raised an eyebrow at their antics.

“Oh yeah. The one with the jumper and the stupid hair!” Lambert grinned.

“His hair isn’t stupid.” Geralt growled and then stopped still when he noticed the rest of the wolves staring at him with matching smirks. “Fuck!”

“So that was the famous Jaskier then.” Eskel tilted his head. It wasn’t a question, not really. Stregobor had pointed out Jaskier as Ciri’s teacher when they’d arrived at the school.

“Hmm.” Geralt replied, ever so helpfully.

“Don’t know what all the fuss was about personally.” Lambert said, wiping away the beer froth from his lips. “He seemed pretty ordinary to me. The way Geralt was going on about him, I was expecting… like a super model or something”

“I was not going on about him. He’s Ciri’s teacher and she spends a lot of time with him. I talk about Ciri ergo Jaskier sometimes comes up in conversation.” Geralt glared over the top of his glass. “I can’t just ignore a big part of her life. She’s excited about school and Jaskier has been a fantastic teacher for her.”

“Mhmm. Do tell us more, Geralt.” Renfri smirked.

“He’s been able to help her through music. Ciri hasn’t stopped begging me for a guitar since her first week. Jaskier suggested it might be a good idea to start with a ukulele as it’s smaller for her to hold and has simpler chords, and the way he’s managed to adapt the curriculum around her family situation. He makes sure the books and exercises they study don’t just have a mum and dad.”

“So kids could have… two dads?” Vesemir asked calmly and Geralt completely missed the twinkle in the older man’s eyes.

“Or two mums, or one parent, or no parents or even more than two! Ciri started to realise it isn’t just her that’s different. Dara, her friend, lives in the kids’ home so it’s been good for him too. They are starting to see that normal isn’t so normal.” Geralt continued. Eskel was, at this point, hiding his laughs behind his hand. It didn’t help he could feel Lambert’s shoulders shaking next to him and Renfri looked like she was about to choke on her drink. The thing with Geralt is he didn’t say much, that is until you got him talking, and then it was rather difficult to shut him up, especially after a few drinks.

“And all the kids are learning sign language for Dara. Ciri taught me a few words too.” Geralt continued and then made a few signs with his hands. Eskel vaguely recognised it but couldn’t remember what they meant. “That means ‘Hi, My name is Geralt.’”

“Sounds like he’s a great teacher.” Eskel hummed in feigned politeness but Geralt didn’t catch the sarcasm.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher for her.” He agreed with dopey smile. “He’s just made this whole thing seem so much easier. When Ciri first started school I was bloody terrified. I didn’t think I could do the whole single parent thing. I was flailing and he just floated in and made it all make sense.”

Eskel scowled slightly at that. If he didn’t know better he would have said Geralt was in love with Jaskier. They’d all assumed up until this point that it had just been a crush or an infatuation. He glanced over at Lambert who was staring incredulously at their teammate. Renfri and Vesemir both had similar expressions on their faces.

“Geralt?” Eskel asked quietly, snapping the man out his thoughts. “He’s Ciri’s teacher. How can he have helped you that much? You’ve barely met him.”

Geralt flushed and snapped his mouth shut and fixed him with a glare. His amber eyes almost glowing in the dark light of the pub. “I’m going to the loo.”

And with that he stalked off to the bar leaving the rest of the wolf rota in a stunned silence.

“It’s just an infatuation.” Renfri sighed. “There’s no way.”

“He was never like this with Yennefer.” Vesemir added thoughtfully.

“Yennefer is insane.” Lambert muttered. “Sexy as hell but mad.”

Eskel punched Lambert’s arm. “Watch it.”

“Oh tell me I’m wrong.” Lambert growled.

“You’re wrong.” Eskel replied with an easy grin.

“Fuck you!”

“Really, brother, I’d really rather not.”

“Fuck off.”

“Boys!” Renfri slammed her pint down. “Honestly, you’re supposed to be adults.”

Eskel winked at his teammate and kicked Lambert lightly under the table, plastering a feigned innocent expression on his face when Lambert yelped and scowled at him across the table. The beer was warming his body nicely and as they huddled around the small sticky table in a dark corner of the pub, the smell of stale beer and sweat permeating the air, he could feel the stress of the day melt away.

_________

Eskel flopped onto his sofa and scrambled to find the remote. His muscles were sore from holding the fire hose for such long periods of time, and his head was fuzzy from one too many pints of beer. The tv crackled into life showing flashy crime show where everyone had bright white teeth and carried a gun. He growled and brought up the guide. He scrolled through the channels for a few minutes, nothing catching his eye, when he was disturbed by a loud bleat.

He groaned and sat up, wincing as the room spun around him. A ball of sandy white fluffy was staring at him intensely. Eskel stared back into the goat’s brown eyes determined to win their impromptu staring match. The goat bleated loudly again and Eskel laughed.

“Ha!” He pointed at Lil’ Bleater. “I win!”

The goat stamped a hoof with a sharp click on the wooden floor and bleated again.

Eskel rolled his eyes. “Suppose you want feeding?”

Another bleat.

“Fine. Greedy bastard. Come on then.” Eskel stood up and then promptly sat back down as his legs wobbled underneath him. “Fucking Lambert.” He muttered. His cursed brother had insisted on another round when they had all been ready to go and Eskel was not one to let his brother get the better of him. He stood up again, this time successfully. Lil’ Bleater promptly decided his trousers were now his dinner. “No, no! Get off. Come on you. There’s hay in the yard, much better than clothes. Hmm yummy hay?”

The goat just bleated impatiently.

“Should have just gotten a dog.” Eskel rolled his eyes and stumbled outside to the garden. There were two out buildings. One served as a shelter for his beloved pet and the second stored his food. Lambert had laughed hysterically when Eskel had proudly pronounced his attention to become a goat dad but all the wolves had rallied round to help him build the shelter and mini barn.

It had started to rain outside and Eskel grimaced as the cold water crept down the back of his neck. “Should have gotten a cat.” He pondered. He could still be inside curled up on the sofa watching tv but nope, not him. No, he was stuck in the rain with a soggy ball of fluff that was currently trying to eat his trousers again.

“Lil’ Bleater, no.” He moaned. “I need these for work.” He sighed and ruffled the goat between his little horns. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

It didn’t take him too long to grab enough hay to fill Lil’ Bleater’s trough and soon enough the goat was happily munching away. He sat down next to the trough and scratched the goats back whilst he ate. “You’re a good goat really, aren’t you buddy?”

The shelter wasn’t as cold as he’d been expecting. Although that was probably the beer talking, still it wasn’t too shabby. The straw on the floor was dry and the roof kept the rain out. It was good enough for a goat, even a spoilt brat like Lil’ Bleater.

Eskel smiled dozily as he ran his fingers through the goats coarse fur. “Everyone should get a goat.” He told his friend.

And then promptly fell asleep.

_________

The forest glade was bright and fresh as he wandered through the trees. There was a definite chill to the air as he wrapped his fluffy red dressing gown tighter around his body. He turned round when he heard the sound of pattering footsteps behind him. The light shining through the trees almost blinded him and the whole forest seemed to be spin around him before he managed to focus on the sound of the footsteps. It was Lil’ Bleater trotted happily next to him, munching loudly on what looked like a mouthful of hay. Eskel licked his lips as the cold air numbed his face, the taste of soil and straw flooded his mouth and he spat out on the floor.

Lil’ Bleater opened his mouth to bleat loudly, as was his way, but instead the strangest thing happened.

“Eskel!” The goat shouted.

“What the fuck?” Eskel groaned and rubbed his eyes.

The forest spun again and Eskel tripped over a branch. Only when he looked down the grass had disappeared from underneath his feet.

“Eskel!” The goat bleated again.

Eskel fell to his knees, landing in thick mud that splattered over his face but when he tried to wipe it off he realised he couldn’t breathe through thick bundles of hay and straw that were now almost choking him.

“ESKEL!”

He gasped and his eyes flew open as a bucket of ice cold water was dunked over his head. He coughed and spluttered as the cold water hit the back of his throat and his whole body tensed up as the icy liquid dripped down his spine.

“Holy mother of god!” He yelled and jumped to his feet. “Fucking hell Lambert!”

His darling brother was in fits of laughter, with an empty bucket in his hands. He was wearing his uniform which was… unusual. They usually got changed at work. In fact they stored their uniforms at work. How was Lambert wearing his uniform? Was he still dreaming?

He blinked the water from his eyes and groaned at the dull pain behind his eyes. His mouth was dry and he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach by a bull. He rubbed his face as he tried to get his bearings. It didn’t feel like he was still dreaming, but why was he in the shelter? His fingers caught on some straw that was nestled into his hair.

“You alright there, brother?” Lambert smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You got a little something…” Lambert reached out and poked his forehead. “there. Pretty sure it’s goat shit.”

Eskel groaned again and sat back down on the floor. “What happened?”

“I think somebody had one too many beers and decided to hunker down with his goat for the night. Honestly, I’m worried about your relationship with that thing.” Lambert chuckled and helped him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get you some water and paracetamol.”

“You’re being nice.” He grumbled as Lambert dragged him into the kitchen.

“Yeah well.” Lambert shrugged. “The old man isn’t gonna go easy on you once we drag your hungover ass to work.”

“Fuck.” He moaned as Lambert pressed a cold glass of water into his hands and began to root around the drawers for his painkillers. “Bathroom.”

Lambert raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tablets are in the bathroom.” Eskel explained.

“Right.” Lambert said with a nod. “Save some water for the tablets then haul that sorry ass of yours into the shower. I’ve got another job to attend but I’m picking you up on the way back. You’d better be presentable by then or else it will be both our necks on the block.”

“S’your fault.” Eskel grumbled.

Lambert, the arse, only laughed. “Why do you think I’m helping?”

And with that Lambert clapped him on the back, making his stomach lurch precariously, and then left him to go in search of painkillers. He downed most of the pint of water, and grimaced as the liquid hit his empty stomach. He stumbled towards his refrigerator, praying to some higher power that he still had bacon in the fridge.

“Come on, Melitele. Don’t fail me now.” He croaked and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the packet neatly stored on the lower shelf. “Yes! Bacon!”

He jumped as something hit him on the back of the head. He spun round too quickly for his fragile stomach to see Lambert grinning at him. He looked down at his feet to see the worn packet of tablets.

“You’re welcome.” Lambert grinned. “You have about an hour. Get your shit together, and get the shit out of your hair.”

“Thanks.” Eskel huffed sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh and I fed that little monster of yours before I woke you up. So… yeah.” Lambert growled. “See you.”

Eskel smiled at Lambert. The younger man had always struggled to show affection. Eskel assumed it probably went back to their childhood. Their parents had been pretty fucking shit and eventually they’d been dumped at the local children’s home. Eskel had realised it had been for best. He was a few years older than Lambert and had acted as a shield between their father and his younger brother on multiple occasions but Lambert had never understood. He’d struggled to get over the rejection of being left at the crappy home. It hadn’t been easy being in care but they’d stuck together. Lambert refused to be fostered without Eskel and foster parents never looked twice at him. He was an older kid which already made it harder and the scar on his face scared even the kindest people away.

In short.

People were shit.

But it had just made Eskel fight harder to be a good person, to be a person deserving of love. Whereas Lambert had become bitter at the world beyond his brother. In time Lambert had accepted the fire crew as his new family but he was never able to express himself in the same way as Eskel. Eskel had gotten pretty good at reading Lambert though. His actions spoke louder than his words. Lambert coming over to check on him and feeding his goat were all ways in which he showed he cared.

He chuckled as he shook his head despairingly at Lambert and sauntered towards the shower. 

_____

Next

[la-appel-du-vide]

BAHAMAS - Day Two ☀️

The day we booked the trip, I knew we HAD to go to Atlantis! I’ve seen so many videos of this famous resort and waterpark, including the iconic drop slide (Leap of Faith) through the see-through tunnel surrounded by sharks, and it’s been on my bucket list for a long time! I had a hard time figuring out if we would be able to go, because the website said they only allowed people from certain cruise lines or partner hotels to visit the waterpark, but when I called to verify, they told me anyone could go. I was thrilled.

And the day finally came! Unfortunately, when we woke up, it was the worst weather ever. Extremely overcast, raining, and lightning in the area. We took a taxi over to Atlantis on Paradise Island so that we could be there when Aquaventure - the waterpark - opened. But it didn’t matter. They had the waterpark closed due to lightning anyway. We were sad. The tickets were for this specific date, and they were non-refundable, so all we could do was wait it out and hope it got better. We went inside Atlantis, and wandered around for a while. It literally felt exactly like Caesar’s Palace, but with underwater decor. I eventually ended up passing out on a bench, because I was so tired. Woke up an hour later, and the weather was still terrible. We were both sad, and worried we’d wasted all that money. I decided I’d just go check and see if the park was open, but I wasn’t optimistic. But it WAS. No more lightning! Just rain!

We knew we’d be soaking wet all day anyway, so we full sent it. We paid for a locker so that our stuff wouldn’t get drenched, and then we were on our way! 

We started with the Leap of Faith. We wanted to do all the best slides in case the park unexpectedly closed again. I was a little nervous, but super excited. The lines weren’t too bad, probably because of the less than ideal weather, but that’s fine by me! The slide was a RUSH. I’ve never been on a faster waterslide. I expected to look around at all the sharks around me, but noooooope. I had no idea what was going on. It felt like a terrifying couple seconds of freefall, and then 20 more seconds of getting sprayed in the face by fire hoses, and then suddenly I was at the bottom. OK. Not what I was expecting, exactly…. hahaha

But I’ve DONE it!

From there, we explored more of the slides. The Serpent Slide was a slower slide with tubes, that let you really see the sharks in that same aquarium as you go through. The Surge was a double tube slide that was also insanely fast and full of hills. The Challenger is a racer slide that lets you compete against your opponent for the fastest ride down. The Abyss is very similar to the Leap of Faith, except you’re in the dark, it keeps going even when you think you’re done, and you drop into a cave at the end. (Still painful though hahaha.)

They also had the coolest lazy river, complete with a first section that sent large waves down the river like a wave pool, and a second section that had areas of rapids. It was a blast.

We ate, we played, we swam… and by 2 or so, the sun was out and SHINING. We were so happy the day turned around from what we thought it might be. It turned out to be gorgeous, and maybe better since we didn’t have too bad of lines! 

We explored the Atlantis beach, and did some repeat slides before the park closed. Just as it was closing, we went down the lazy river again, and it started pouring rain. We were the only ones left in the water, and the contrast of the cold rain to the warm pool water while we went down was really fun! 

We eventually had to say goodbye, and that’s the worst part. It was just as fun as I hoped it would be. I have a thing for waterparks anyway, but this has got to be the best one I’ve ever been to!

We went out to walk the night life area outside the resort, and found a pizza place to eat dinner at. We got a Greek pizza - basically white sauce with olives, mushrooms, spinach and feta cheese. It was actually super good, and I don’t really like pizza that much.

Ended the night at a candy store where we loaded up on personalized bags of our favorite treats so that we could eat ourselves sick back at the hotel.

We did learn some things on the taxi ride back though:

-Every taxi ride in the Bahamas seems to cost $25, no matter where you’re going or how far (not a fact, just an observation)

-The government is the largest employer in the Bahamas, but Atlantis is the second largest employer in the Bahamas. Baha Mar is currently building a waterpark of their own, and they are anticipated to be the third largest employer in the Bahamas once it opens.

-Anna Nicole Smith loved the Bahamas so much, that she bought property there making her a citizen. She was buried in the Nassau Cemetery after she died.

The more you know!

[alrightcomputer]

“That one time I lost $17,000, my dog fought a skunk, I levitated, got stung by a scorpion and then was homeless for a week.”

The story begins with money. In my 20’s I was a ship with no anchor, which is ironic since the Saint of my namesake is the patron of mariners and children. I felt like both, but without a map or a compass, so I took a paycheck in the meantime. The first job I took in a kitchen was at the Great Wolf Lodge through a favor from my cousin who knew the Exec and Sous. Started with no experience beyond grilled cheeses and bowls of cereal, a strong work ethic, a hunger for my own money and the good will of others. It was the best job I’ve had in the industry and I wish I hadn’t left but life dangled the carrot of love in front of me and I jumped ship and swam. It was nice to be wanted, so I let my pride take the wheel and quickly got lost in the sauce. Ended up at another corporate place in MHK, but rose quickly, fell in love quickly, and fell out just as quick. I was drifting in the wind in Manhattan, which is what you do there. Still felt adrift, the arrogance of youth filling my sails. I was discovering myself on my own for the first time, having looked through a telescope for so long I was finally starting to appreciate the vastness of the horizon. That I could go any direction I wanted, as fast and as far. I broke a heart, cut bait and went looking. I let my mother live vicariously through me by enrolling in culinary school, despite 2 years already having risen quickly in every kitchen I had worked in. She loved cooking, but to me it was just a skill. I thought with this same formula applied to school I’d jump into any space I wanted. I was as ambitious as I was broke, and still dreaming. Surprise! My parents had been keeping $35,000 in a mutual fund, in my name, since who knows when?! I was dreading borrowing $42,000 to pay for one year of school but damn they made it sound pretty, so I accepted the “help” from mom & dad, without a promise of repayment, even at my insistence. I didn’t want to lose my motivation. I say “help” because the way it played out I think they had ulterior motives. I got enrolled and find out the basic college credits I already had saved me $7000. I had school paid for and would just need a part time job to pay my rent and have fun. Fast forward 6 months, halfway through school, taking control of my life finally so I decide it would be easier to move my school money out of the joint account in Downs to a bank in Austin where I was going to be staying after graduation. I called the bank and asked them to transfer and they put me on hold. Weird. The teller gets back on the phone and they say they can’t make the transfer and that I would need to talk to my parents. My name was on the account. The checks were written from TD Ameritrade to me. This shouldn’t have happened. They pulled the rug out from under me, absolutely zero respect. No discussion. I was still a child to them, and I realized then that I always would be. This is where the story really begins. At this point I was so torn between honoring my parents and gaining autonomy over my life. I took out $17,000 in loans to finish school despite my instinct telling me to just quit and work full time, it had worked best for me anyway. Finish school with my head down, feelings up in smoke, heart in my hand. Long phone calls that always ended up in anger. They were in charge, they had the upper hand. How I felt about it was of no consequence to them, especially 700 miles away. I moved back to Manhattan after a wild year in ATX following graduation because I still had friends in Kansas, even if I didn’t feel like I had family. It’s okay, everything’s okay. I’ll tell you the 512 story later. Staying in a friends basement rent free until I get a job and a couple paychecks in my pocket, playing a lot of Call of Duty and smoking as much weed as humanly possible to keep my mind off of my deteriorating relationship with my parents. It's okay, everything's okay. Never really get off my feet in those three months so I concede to everything I’ve been fighting against with my parents and move back in with them, working at their furniture store and helping with funerals when needed. It’s okay, everything’s okay. It wasn't. My dad told me if I wanted the money that I should sue him. Hope will allow you to suffer much longer than is necessary. Few months go by, living rent free in a place I don’t want to be in has really motivated me to save some money at get the fuck out. Having my dog around is a small comfort. I’m still trying to resolve my feelings about the situation internally but I can’t, so I approach my parents. It doesn’t go well. It never goes well. When someone has seen you bare assed, bent over, taking an ass whoopin’ with a fraternity paddle, you can still love them, but you will never respect them. Not unless you meet them where they’re at. But I had been bent for too long to be able to carry that weight. After several attempts at resolution, each with escalating climaxes, leading up to the night they kicked me out. I still had most of my things packed in my car because I hadn’t planned on staying long. My mom tells me to leave after multiple attempts to try and explain my feelings, not even demanding any type of action on their part other than hearing me out. They were very defensive. My mom told me she wanted me to leave, so I packed up my toiletries and suitcase I had clothes in, grabbed my dogs leash and called him as I walked down the stairs to leave. My mom grabs my collar at the landing, where the stairs make a 180 degree turn, there’s a small area to stand there before the stairs continue down. I just kept walking, she didn’t let go. She fell to her knees but let go finally, and right at that moment, my dad is coming up from the basement, to the first floor. My mom takes a flop, sliding down the stairs behind me, with her hands out in front of her. I kept walking towards the back door and my dad stands in my way and won’t let me pass. Step left, gets in my way, hands on my chest. I tell him she wants me to leave, so I am. Step right. Hands on my chest. Call my dog Jonas, he’s waiting patiently. My dad is still trying to stop me from leaving, he doesn’t know my mom was talking to me, assumes I threw her down the stairs or something. I quickly explain what happened and he doesn’t believe me so I say I’m just going to leave and he tries to stop me again so I grab his shirt and throw him to the side, he stumbles but doesn't fall down. I can’t take this shit anymore. I walk to the back door calling my dog to go outside. As I get out to my car and am loading my things in, tell my dog to get in and he complies as always. My mom is hysterical, begging me to stay. I tell her this obviously isn’t a good place for me to be and get in my car and leave. I go to a place I frequently go and let Jonas out and light a cigarette as I sit on the ground. I hear Jonas running through the tall grass until he stops suddenly and I hear a low growl so I call him back. Immediately after I hear a very shrill yelp and him sprinting towards me, I figured it was a raccoon at first until he got about 10 yards away I could smell exactly what it was. He smelled like sour ass and a plastic fire. I finished my cigarette as I figured out what I was going to do. His face is staring at me searching for answers and I comfort him telling him its ok and I’m going to get him cleaned up. He stunk so bad. I go back to my parents house and walk in the back door where the pantry is and grab two cans of my dad’s tomato juice. He’s on the couch so I tell him Jonas got sprayed by a skunk and go back outside. I call Jonas over to where the hose is and begin to wash his face. It helps, kind of. Go through both cans and I can’t tell if I’m just used to the smell, if my olfactory senses are fried or if its actually helping. His spirits were lifted so that’s all mattered at the moment. My dad says I should stay and that he would make sure my mom didn’t talk to me. I leave Jonas outside and go upstairs to fall asleep. We don’t talk for several days. I sleep in my car and read Bukowski by the river in the town I worked in until I meet up with a friend who was in California for a long time, back in town for her sister’s wedding. Her sister is actually marrying my cousin. My friend Carrie’s house was where we used to hang out and party in high school. My mom looked down on the whole family. The oldest sister (who was marrying my cousin) was best friends with the only openly gay kid in the town. The oldest son was a musician and goth. The youngest daughter Carrie was a completely free spirit. The youngest son was a skater. Their mom was a single mom who raised 4 kids working graveyard shifts at the nursing home. They were kind and open minded. She did a complete 180 on her position once my cousin and the oldest daughter were engaged. She couldn’t maintain it and be perceived like she needed to be by them. She’s a textbook narcissist. I spend the night at my friends house the next couple nights leading up to the wedding, we watch movies and get drunk. She gives me half a Xanax so I can sleep. I needed it so badly, she knew I was a wreck. We went to the lake with old friends and rode jet skis and took turns throwing each other off doing 180 turns at the fastest speeds we could handle. She won. I took one of my favorite pictures of her talking to her brother on the phone while he was in a psych hospital after an attempted suicide. She had the biggest heart, and I think living in all that space felt lonely for her. The day of the wedding gets here and I go out to my favorite place to be alone a few miles outside of Downs. It's the tallest hill around in a farmer’s pasture, surrounded by grazing land and prairie for his cattle. The top of the hill is limestone and there are several smaller hills littered with volcanic rock surrounding it. Wildflowers and thistles scattered around haphazardly. It looks like the Windows background with the rolling green hills in spring. I have my camera and I take a few pictures along the way, I was very much in tune with the frequency of the place and this made me feel at peace and connected with myself. To be fair, the hill is not very impressive, but once you’re on top of it and see just how flat everything around it is and just how far you can see it’s a significant difference. For what it’s worth. I get to the top and I’m watching a man tend his field with a tractor about a mile away and thinking of my grandpa Jim, as I often do when I’m feeling stressed. I snap a few photos. As I’m sitting on a rock near the top, reading some initials of lovers, some school rivalry, some curses and a banal greeting I decide to close my eyes. I become very aware of the breeze and the swishing sound of the grass is very hypnotic. I sit in the Lotus position, palms up, index and thumb pressed gently together. I focus on my breathing and after a few minutes it happened. I felt the strongest sensation of floating, like vertigo but not spinning or swaying. I felt it so intensely that I violently shook myself out of it and snapped my eyes open. I don’t know how long I sat like this before it happened. I sat for a little while longer, looking out towards the horizon before I decide I should probably head back. I look down and about a foot under where I’m sitting I see a small scorpion. A cloudy, white, almost translucent exoskeleton. It’s pincers are raised, but it’s not moving around. I can see it’s stinger and for whatever reason decide to pick it up. So I did. I did it successfully. It just hung there between my thumb and index finger. It starts to sway back and forth so I decide its probably time to put it down. I had conquered my fear. As I move my hand towards the ground the angle I was holding it changed slightly and it spun and grabbed my finger near my finger nail. Without thinking I let go of the stinger and it struck immediately and then dropped the rest of the way to the ground, scurried under a rock and that was the last I saw of my friend. The initial pain was sharp but the sharpness of the sting dissipated quickly. The deep, throbbing pain of the venom was slow to take effect but plateaued much higher than the initial prick. It was intense to say the least, a very unique experience. Very grounding. I waited for the pain to peak, realized I could handle it, considered whether or not I was dying, but realized I had never heard of deadly scorpions in Kansas so I started to walk back to my car. When I get there I see my keys laying on my drivers seat and try the door. It’s locked. From this amazing moment of Zen to a slow deterioration of my physical reality in like 3 minutes. I didn’t have much time and it was the middle of the day in July so I started to walk back to town. Thankfully I had a long sleeved shirt on. I get almost a mile down the road and I hear a vehicle approaching behind me. The guy stops and asks if I need a ride. I accept. He asks what I’m doing out here and I tell him it’s where I go to clear my head and that I was taking a few photos while I was in town for a wedding. He says he’s going to get beer because his town is dry and he won’t tolerate a Sunday of football without a 12 pack. I said I appreciated his foresight, and was thankful that it had worked out in my favor too. I had a spare key with me at my friends house thankfully, and he dropped me off there. I didn’t feel like asking for any help at this point. I felt like I was on a personal journey. I figured I’d have just enough time to walk out and drive back to shower before the ceremony. It's hot as hell, but not like this summer. It was probably in the upper 90’s with little cloud cover, but there was a breeze so my sweat was working nicely to cool me. I knew the average walking pace was 5 miles an hour, so as long as I kept a steady pace I’d be there in about 45 minutes. It took about an hour cuz I got lazy and a little lost in thought considering how my day had been. Got into my car and drove back to my friends’ place, change and make it back about 5 minutes late to the church. My friend waves from the altar and I smile and mouth “sorry”. My story was a huge hit at the reception. My cousin thought it was especially hilarious that I got stung by a scorpion. The next day I woke up hungover but calm. Something I hadn’t felt first thing in the morning for a long time. I had work that night so I got cleaned up and drove the 20 minutes over and got a sandwich and read Ham On Rye for a while before my shift. My life was wild, but I had it good compared to Bukowski. Flipped some burgers for a few hours, had a few beers down the road and drove back to the park by the river to sleep in my car. I did this for several days before I asked my friend if I could crash in his basement again. I needed a shower, but nobody at work noticed because all the other cooks never showered despite having perfectly good homes to bathe in. He said it was cool, so I just ghosted my job and went back to Manhattan. I had a job there in 2 days, at a popular local burger spot with the menu of the last job I had in Austin hanging on the fridge when I got there. A place I could contribute to. A job I would ultimately be told to do less at. A few months went by just working there in the AM, reading in the afternoon while eating a burger and getting drunk at night or playing FPS games with my friend while we got stoned. He didn’t like to be out in public or be very social, but we’d have house parties every now and then. My dog was my best friend, letting me know who was to be trusted and who wasn’t. I was way too far in my own head to notice or care. He hated our fucking mail man, and I thought for no good reason until I caught him peeking in our front window, the one much too far out of his way to the mailbox to shrug it off. He tried to yell at me when my dog wouldn’t let him in the yard, and I said he doesn’t have to, plus I trust his judgement. We had a new guy on the route the next week. This was the beginning of a new level of strangeness.