#anyway next review is coming tomorrow since today is one i already posted when i first decided to rebuild this blog

[yungbud]

Could you do some Y/N x Dom ddlg smut?

Word count: 2.6k

TW: Smut including, Daddy kink, throat fucking, bondage

A/n I wasn’t 100% sure where you wanted this to go so I tried to do a little bit of both. If you wanted it more rough or more soft i’d been happy to rewrite it for you, just shoot me a dm/ask with the direction you’d like me to take it and it should be up within the week <3 hope you like it though.

---

Dom stood in front of you, hard dick standing at attention, his tip red and swollen.

You would’ve helped. Really, you would’ve. You wanted to, even, but Dom had left you with your hands completely tied…

Well, literally.

It all started when he stayed late at the studio one night working on the album, and then another... And then another… His fans were practically begging him to take a night off, but he just wouldn’t. Sometimes he wouldn’t even bother to come home at all, heaven knows if he even bothered to sleep.

The fact was, with Dom gone so often you got a bit lonely. You’d tried explaining this to him in passing but he was just so caught up in his work, promising that when it was all done he’d spend nothing but time with you. The promises always seemed to fall flat, project after project withholding his attention from you.

And then you remembered… 

You and Dom had an array of sex toys, a fond memory attached to each one. Dom also had a certain set of rules for you when it came to sex, and by assosciation said sex toys, one of them being that you were only allowed to touch them if he was there to watch you. 

This rule fell through about a month in when you realized he was never home to watch you… Which also meant he was never home to catch you. You figured, he’s having fun working on his album and you deserved to have a bit of fun of your own too. 

With not much left to do you’d been abusing this rule like it owed you money ever since. It was actually a lot of fun. It took a little getting used to at first, you missed Dom and wished he was here to do it instead, but pretty soon you were getting off all on your own and you even used a heating pad and stuffy for the post orgasm cuddles you were missing. 

Of course you still loved and missed Dom, and would be glad to return to normal as soon as possible, but for the time being you were perfectly fine with your little situation.

You had a pretty productive day cleaning the house, you were now working on dinner, something small since you’d probably be the only one home to eat it. You worked strategically around the kitchen, cleaning up as you went, and once your food was safely in the oven and the timer was set you had a little over half an hour to kill. Wandering into the living room, you searched for the remote, finding it on the couch where you plopped yourself down and began scrolling through netflix.

God, there’s never anything good on here, you thought, it just isn’t what it used to be. You remembered when netflix had everything, and now everything had spread onto their own respective streaming services.  You clicked the tv off, staring at the wall for a moment as you went over the things left to do in your head.

There’s always instagram or twitter, but those tend to piss you off in one way or another and there was nothing good on youtube.

Your thought about how your day went, reviewing everything mentally and you realized what you could fill your time with. A reward for all your hard work.

You practically ran up the stairs, wanting to fit in as much you time as possible before you had to return to make dinner.

You started off slow, squeezing your breast and pretending it was Dom instead, trailing your hand down your body until you hit the waistband of your shorts, slipping them down your legs and haphazardly tossing them across the room. You gently rubbed yourself through your underwear, pressing a few teasing fingers against your entrance. Taking a deep breath, you slide your hands up and down your thighs, allowing your eyes to close and your body to fully relax before reaching over, wrapping your fingers around the small, pink vibrator that was sat beside you on the bed, shifting it on and pressing it against your clit.

Inhaling a sharp breath at the feeling, your hips moved along with your actions. Soft moans fell from your lips, taking a moment to rid yourself of your underwear before continuing. You tried to imitate the motions of Dom, pretending he was laid next to you and whispering dirty things in your ear, encouraging you to continue. 

His plush lips pressed against your neck, leaving bites in his wake that would surely show up tomorrow. His tattooed middle finger coming down to press inside you, pumping it in and out a few times before curling it inside you.

He seemed so far away, and yet closer than you thought.

What you hadn't known was that Dom had chosen to come home early today so he could spend dinner with you, and he was standing in the doorway watching as you slid the vibrator up and down your glistening pussy, whimpering his name.

“Hm, dinners ready.” Your actions snapped to a pause in shock “Oh don’t worry, love. I got it.” 

Your eyes opened slowly, unsure if you really wanted to acknowledge the scene in front of you. 

Dom stood in front of you, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed as he stared you down.

“S’that?” He questioned, knowing damn well what it was, but wanting to hear you admit it. You wrapped your hand tightly around it, a futile attempt to hide the item in your hand. Dom tilted his head disapprovingly at this, walking over to you and peeling your hand open to take it from you, clicking it off. He cleared his throat, putting it on display for you, his gaze boring into the side of your head as he waited for an explanation. 

“Nothing to say for yourself?” There was A moment for you to plead your case. Nothing. “Alright, fine.” He says, sitting on the bed motioning for you to lay over his lap. You looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent in a silent plea. When his stern look didn’t budge you complied, perching your ass into the air a bit. 

“Are you going to tell me what you were doing, or am I going to have to get it out of you?” Dom asks, his hand rubbing soothingly over your ass.

“I was masturbating.” Dom hummed, his hand coming down in a sharp smack against your ass.

“With?”

“A toy.” another, his hand smoothing over the already reddening skin.

“Which?”

“I’m not supposed to do unless you’re here to watch me.” twice in a row this time

“So, let me get this straight. You knew you were being disobedient, and decided to do it anyway?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, at least you’re telling the truth.” Dom said, leaning down to whisper in your ear “‘fraid you would’ve been better off lying, love.” His hand coming down thrice more on your already raw ass. Your teeth dug into your lip as you tried your best to hold back the squeaks that clawed their way up your throat.

“Do you want me to count, daddy?” You offered, trying to earn yourself a few brownie points.

“No, I’ll stop when I’m good and damn ready.” And he did exactly that. Although he didn’t ask you to count, you did so anyway. You found it helped to distract from the pain. You got up to around twenty when he finally stopped, leaning down to place a kiss on your red bottom. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, but when you were genuinely in trouble with Dom, when you had so blatantly disobeyed him, the spankings came across as a bit more of a genuine punishment than normal. He wanted it to be sexy and feel good, but he also wanted you to know that your behavior was not acceptable. 

“Your ass is so red. Does that hurt?” He asks, concern lacing his tone

“Yes.” You whimper, pouting back at him

“Awh, you poor baby. Probably should’ve thought about that before you decided to break one of my rules.” He said, smacking your ass once again. Shoving you off his lap, he left the room, leaving you alone on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you waited patiently for him to return.

You hadn’t actually seen him as he walked back in the room, only acknowledging his return when you felt his hands wrapping around your wrists. Before you realized what was happening your wrists were tied to the head board, your gorgeous boyfriend hovering over you, pulling your shirt up to admire your tits.

“Since you got to get off, it’s daddy’s turn.” He said, pulling his pants down just enough to pull out his swollen prick, jerking it off inches from your face. He tapped your jaw, your mouth opening at his command, slipping his dick down your mouth slowly. You were gagging before he was all the way in, staring up at him from your place on the bed. He groaned at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, your gags only encouraging his thrusts as he fell into a rhythm.

“Oh fuck, princess.” He moans, hand wrapped up in your hair, tugging at it lightly, his hips moving methodically as he ruthlessly fucked your throat.

There was a string of spit from your throat to his tip when he pulled out, Dom’s hand coming by to swipe it out of the air. He sat up a bit, placing his balls in your mouth as he continued pleasuring himself, his head hung back in pleasure. You lifted your head in an attempt to return his tip to your mouth, but Dom crawled off of you and stood beside the bed instead.

And there you were, with Dom stood in front of you, hard dick standing at attention, his tip red and swollen.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You say, choking back tears

“Then why’d you do it, princess? Hm? Just such a horny slut you couldn’t help yourself? You know what I think? I think you did it on purpose because you thought I’d never catch you. I don’t think you’re sorry for doing it, I think you’re sorry you got what you had coming for being such a disobedient little slut.” He hummed, swiping a piece of your hair behind your ear “But thats okay, because I promise” He says, his tone sinister “that after tonight you won’t need to touch that pretty little pussy for awhile.”

“No, I really am sorry for disobeying you, I promise.” You plead, letting your hips flatten against the bed.

“So are you going to tell me why you did it or just keep apologizing? Because only one of those is going to get you anywhere but a wheelchair tonight, pretty girl.” You avoided eye contact, focusing on the pattern of your bed sheets as you tossed the thought around in your head, hesitating to tell him what had really been going on.

“You’ve just been gone for so long and you’re never home anymore. It gets so boring and lonely being here by myself all the time and I wasn’t able to get myself off and you weren’t here to do it so one night I reached into the drawer and I used one of the toys and it just felt so good… ” You rambled, tears welling up in your eyes as the feelings of resentment and loneliness poured out of you all at once. Dom stopped for a moment, untying your hands and moving you up to a sitting position, enveloping you in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I hadn’t even thought of it like that.” His lips connected with yours in a soft kiss, his hand coming up to hold the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. When he pulled away he left a series of kisses all over your face, an apology after each one.

“Come here.” He whispers, pulling you on top of him.

His lips connected with yours as he began pushing himself in, waiting for you to move against him before continuing his actions. His strokes were long and slow, making sure you felt every single inch of him. His lips leave small kisses along the length of your neck, hands gripping at your ass, your own scratching down his back.

“Well, I guess I’m here now.” He jokes, reaching over to grab the vibrator, pressing it firmly against your clit. You were already close from before, the punishment only adding to the little ball of pressure you could feel building in your tummy.

Pathetic, needy whimpers slipped past your lips as your orgasm came over you. 

“I got you princess.” He whispers, you can feel Dom twitch inside you as he comes up on his own, releasing inside you with a heavenly moan. He remained inside you, allowing the two of you to ride out your highs, before pulling out and collapsing next to you. It took you both a moment to catch your breath, but when you did Dom was the first to speak.

“Okay, new rule.” He turned to you “You’re allowed to use the toys when I’m going to be consecutively busy, but if you can I want you to call me, or if I'm busy send me photos. Daddy loves to see his little girl getting off, I don’t wanna miss a thing.” He says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Come on, lets go eat.” You said, attempting to sit up, but being pulled back down by Dom.

“Dinner can wait, you need a bath.” He says, picking you up and carrying you into the en suite bathroom. He set you on the counter, mindful of your bum, before turning to heat up the bath water. He turned back to you as he filled the tub, kissing you softly on the lips as he waited. You denied his offer to pick you up and set you in the tub, opting to walk the step and a half there yourself, sinking into the inviting water and letting it soothe your ache.

He seemed extra protective of you, your words obviously going to heart. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so caught up in his work and left you home all alone feeling like that. Worse yet, you’d expressed these emotions to him before and he shrugged them off. He was determined to make it up to you.

Dom let you pick a bath bomb, watching as you marveled at the colors. He dragged his attention away from you eventually, once again leaving you alone in the room.

When he returned he had a plate of food in his hand, setting it on the edge of the tub for you and playing with your head as you ate, asking you how you’d been while he was away.

He waited for you with a warm towel when you were ready to get out, tentatively drying you off. He allowed you to dress yourself, sitting on the edge of the cabinet as he watched. After dinner and your bath, he tucked you in, placing a kiss on your forehead and promising to be there when you woke up in the morning, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

[cosmiclatte28]

Steal My Girl (jaehyun x you)

a/n : Am I posting too much Jaehyun fic? Anyways it is February and I associate him with February (despite there are other members having Feb as their bday too! miannnn)

ALSO HAPPY JAEHYUN DAY EVERYONE!!! 

warning : none :D safe to read for all age! drink moderately and be responsible

enjoy................................

“Hey um sorry to bother you,” Mark pops his head into your room.

You turn your head to look at him, eyebrows rising to ask him why.

Mark scratches his neck and you pause the music jamming into your ears. You drag your earphone down and ask the “troubled” man on your door frame.

“Umm Jaehyun is drunk again, and he called me to pick him up.” Mark explains slowly, you nod and wait for him to continue, “Are you busy?”

You glance at the clock, it’s almost nine and tomorrow is Saturday. You don’t really have anything coming soon, you finished your work for this week already.

“Nope not busy, why?” You finally tackle Mark down to the big question mark you had in your head.

Jaehyun is drunk and yeah what does Mark needs?

“You know I still cannot drive, and Johnny is on the party too drunk. Taeyong has passed out since his first cup and I don’t know who else can I ask help for.”

You smirk and shake your head, what a silly request!

However, Mark is still your cousin and Jaehyun is the man you treasure.

“Funny how Jaehyun called you instead of me! Did he forget you cannot drive yet.” You stand up to change your clothes and Mark doesn’t need a second order to change too.

“You’re sitting beside me! I am not dealing with the drunk men!” You put on a jacket and grab the key, wallet, and phone.

You made it to the party house, Mark quickly fetching his three drunk brothers and you just stay back. You’re not coming in.

The last man to enter the car is Jaehyun. You did not know how Mark made the three big men sit on the back compartment of your car, but here we are!

“Woaah we’re suddenly in a car! Who called the cab? Why is the service so nice…” Taeyong blurs off laughs and words, “Even the driver is pretty!”

You roll your eyes, why would Tae drinks if he knows he is this bad with alcohol.

“Hey she’s (y/n)! Dummy… keep quiet Yong, or else you’ll puke.” Johnny pushes Taeyong’s head to the other side. Well Taeyong needs to sit between the two men and he’s already leaning to Johnny.

“Ah it’s you sweetie! Sorry for going out again without you…” Jaehyun reaches for your shoulder from the back seat. You’re used to this, even though you two are dating, you don’t always join him on his parties.

“Driving her boyfriend home safely, check!” Jaehyun giggles in his unconscious state.

__

“Bae, help me with this calculus homework!!” Jaehyun once knocked on your apartment you share with Mark. He barged in one evening after you and Mark finished dinner, in a messy hair and crumpled math paper.

You nicely offered him dinner and brought him to sit on the dining table. Mark served him snacks and water, while you calmly taught him how to work on the problems. Step by step, well while reviewing too, since he was on the same class as you.

After working on the homework and Jaehyun could answer ten sets of question by himself, you let him go.

“Thanks girl! You’re the perfect lover!”

Teaching and tutoring your boyfriend? Check!

__

 “Babe, sorry to disturb you again…” Jaehyun’s voice appears softer and you know he is going to ask you a favor with this tone.

You glance from your homework, sparing only an eyebrow to him and he grins “I lost some buttons on the way home.” He shows you his button up shirt that lost three buttons.

You raise your brow, “Did you fight?”

He scratches his pink hair, “Well, someone mocked Doyoung and Taeyong, so I taught them some lessons.”

Only then did you notice, he has a small bruise on his face and a ripped lip.

You quickly stand up and grab his cheeks, checking for any other scratches on his pretty face. Jaehyun giggles when he sees your worried face.

You pick up the first aid kit and sit down on the sofa with Jaehyun by your side. “You should stop fist fighting sweetie, you don’t want to end up in the police office. I don’t have enough money to bail you out.” You roll your eyes and laugh, trying to make him laugh too.

Jaehyun smirks, “Haha yeah I know that, but you will find a way.”

You press on his scar and he winces, “Stop playing around.” You snap at him.

After taking care and bandaging his wounds, you finish your homework while Jaehyun sits on the sofa compressing his body.

You clean up your stuffs and finally walk to take your sewing kit, “Do you still have your buttons?”

He shakes his head, “Gone.”

You smirk, “Sorry, the only one I have are these,” you show him a set of cute pink buttons.

Jaehyun’s mouth drop, “You want me to wear that?”

You frown, “Well you lost your buttons. That is your button up, you go buy your own buttons.”

He sighs, “Fine…”

You smile secretly, “I’ll fix it later, wash this first.” You toss it to him and he lazily walks to the laundry basket and bring his dirty laundries with him to the washing room.

He goes back to the room with a happier face, saying he met Doyoung and Taeyong doing their laundries and got treated to some coffee. You just nod and the night goes on.

Only on the next morning did Jaehyun greets you with a spin and a kiss.

“When did you fix my shirt? Gosh thanks! You really are a perfect girl! Love you!!” he kisses you happily and you just nod your head.

Well, he slept early last night and you nicely sew his three buttons back with a normal button. You have them, you just want to tease him.

“Taking care of boyfriend and sewing clothes, check!”

__

 “Sorry I am late!” Jaehyun appears wet under the rain, and you just shake your head at the boy who is stranding in the front porch of your college building drenched in rain water.

“Forgot your umbrella again?” you calmly lead him into your college hall. Well, he promised to attend the exhibition with you, but here he is drenched in rain.

“I lend it to an old lady, she was stuck in the supermarket and I passed by.” He tries his best to squeeze the water out of his shirt.

You dig into your bag and toss him your sweater, “Lucky I brought your sweater. Go change, at least you won’t fall sick.”

His pants are wonderfully wet, but that guy managed to half dry it on the toilet.

“Secretly has a back up for boyfie, check!” Jaehyun grins to himself.

--

The list goes on, the number of incidental and accidental moments pile up. But always whatever happen, you always have a solution for him. With your calm personality, you just shake your head in disbelieve and like magic, you are able to give him a solution.

“Yow Jae, tell us how are you still surviving college at this rate?” Johnny asks his friend on a Saturday boys night.

Jaehyun looks away from the TV screen and spare a glance on his friend, “Survive? What do you mean?”

Doyoung groans at his slow wit, “That slow wit, fights, constant good scores despite you sleeping in class, and many more drunk nights.”

Taeyong has already shifted his attention too from the screen to the young man in pink hair.

“Share the secret please!” Yuta chimes in.

Jaehyun thinks for awhile, trying to answer all the questions proposed to him suddenly.

“Um… I think I survived and still live today because of (Y/n).” he shrugs his shoulder.

The four men groan and sigh, “RIGHT! How can we forget your super girlfriend!”

“You’re right (y/n) is the one who takes care of me! It’s like any problem I have… she has the solution.” Jaehyun realizes.

Doyoung lets out a huff, “Where can we get one?”

“I lowkey want to steal her when she picks us up on the club at night!” Johnny winks, which earns a pout from Jaehyun

“I want her more when Jaehyun said she sew his clothes at night when he lost three buttons. Gosh Jaehyun you’re really pampered, she does everything for you!” Taeyong punches Jaehyun’s shoulder playfully.

Jaehyun stays silent, his friends’ words coming in and out of his ear like that, but his head is slowly playing all of the memories and times he asked for your help and you’re always there. You always leave everything behind and help him, but has he done the same thing for you? Doubt.

“Aigo she is perfect! Can I just steal her? I believe I can be a better man,” Yuta laughs, and the other men laugh too but that earns him a loud smack on the head from Jaehyun.

“CALM DOWN! MY HEAD! YOU PUNCHED ME FULL POWER!” Yuta rubs his pounding head and sees fire in Jaehyun’s eyes

“No one is stealing her! She is mine, and fyi you cannot find anyone else like her in this world.” Jaehyun smiles with proud, “She is one of a kind, and if you find someone else like her, she belongs to me.”

end

lol wouldn’t this be cool if there is a tiktok trend for this? 

“helping boyfie do calculus,check!”

“helping boyfie sew buttons? check!”

byee author is just out of her mind

[equustenebris]

New drabble! This kind of just poured out basically all at once, lol. This is for modern Topolino Newton, I've got his first story translated here for the unfamiliar: https://equustenebris.tumblr.com/post/658572502503735296/hello-duck-community-i-come-bearing-a-gift-so

Newton Gearloose has a bully. For Whumptober 2021. Prompt: "Who did this to you?"

Three. Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But...

He gave a final sniffle as he rounded the corner to his uncle's house, trying to pull himself back together before his uncle saw him crying. The punches and kicks had been painful, sure, but it was the humiliation more than anything -- and the overwhelming fear of facing Jax again tomorrow.

He'd always known there was no way he'd win in a fight. He was Newton Gearloose, inventor, not -- like -- Newton Gearloose, boxer, or something. He just wasn't built for it, and besides, he'd always firmly believed brains were better than brawn any day. Still, when Jax snatched him out of the hallway to shake him down for his chemistry project results, he'd made his very best attempt to fight back, but Jax was built like an eighth grader, and all he'd really managed to do was make him angrier. He gingerly touched his fingertips to his swollen eye, hoping it didn't look nearly as bad as it felt.

He didn't have any idea what he'd done to get on Jax's bad side -- they only had one class together, and despite his natural aptitude for it, it wasn't as though Newton was particularly well-liked by their chemistry teacher anyway. (A few too many beakers shattered, chemicals spilled, labs blown up -- frankly, he was amazed they still let him do the hands-on work.)

But for whatever reason, Jax had apparently decided that Newton was his new target -- and he evidently had a lot of free time to spend making Newton's life as miserable as possible. It had started off with little things, stealing his pencils, getting in his way in line at the water fountain, knocking the books out of his hands -- all of that was manageable, and honestly Newton was often so distracted by his own ideas for new inventions that he barely noticed. But when it went from the annoying to the physical -- snatching him from the hallway just after the last bell to rough him up -- well, that he noticed.

He opened up the front door slowly, peeking around in the hopes that his uncle was down in the lab, and he'd have a chance to try to clean himself up before his uncle saw him. Apparently, today was really not his lucky day, because Gyro was at the sink, washing up some dishes.

"Hi, Newton," he chirped brightly, "how was sch -- Newton?" He dropped the dish back into the sink as he caught sight of his nephew's black eye, immediately swiveling around. Newton cringed, hunching his shoulders as if he could make himself small enough to disappear. "Your face! What happened?"

"Nothing, Uncle, I'm fine," he tried, attempting to slip away to the bathroom.

"You certainly are not! Who did this to you?"

Little Helper was already at his side with an ice pack, holding it up above his tiny head for Newton to take. Embarrassed, he only looked away instead.

"Nobody, Uncle, it's -- it's fine," he tried again, cheeks flushed and burning. But Gyro wasn't so quick to give up, quickly kneeling in front of him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else? Your arms? Your tail?" he asked, lifting Newton's shirt to check his belly, gently snatching his wrists to examine his arms, and just generally not helping the utter humiliation burning in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm fine," Newton snapped again, pulling his arms away.

"Newton." Gyro took him by the shoulders, gazing into his eyes. Reluctantly, the boy looked back to him, biting his lip to try to hold the persistent tears at bay. "You can tell me. What happened?"

Despite his best efforts, a single hot tear slipped down his cheek -- and then it was all over, the floodgates wide open as he wrapped his arms around his uncle's neck, trying to choke back sobs as he explained: all the multitude of small things he ignored for months, one after another, and now finally, the big things he couldn't. It came tumbling out at once in a flurry, months of pain and fear he hadn't realized he had been carrying. Gyro just held him, gently rubbing his back, occasionally giving him soft, preening nips, trying to calm him down.

When he was finally finished, Gyro nodded firmly, intent. "We'll go to the principal." Newton immediately shook his head, wincing.

"No, Uncle! It'll just get worse if you tell anyone! Principal Schnauzer doesn't even like me, he doesn't care, and even if he did he can't watch me all the time! It wouldn't be safe."

"Well, we at least have to tell your mom and dad," he mumbled, rubbing Newton's back again.

Again, Newton shook his head. "Oh, please, no, Uncle! This is already humiliating enough, I don't want them to know, too!"

"We have to do something, Newton! I can't send you back to school like this!"

"I can handle it myself," Newton mumbled, gazing vaguely over his shoulder towards his treehouse, and his own secret lab, hidden away from his uncle. He had no idea what, exactly, but surely he could come up with some sort of invention to deal with this on his own. His uncle, however, seemed less than convinced.

"Maybe I could invent something for you? You know, something that could keep you safe, maybe like some sort of...repelling ray, or maybe a robot bodyguard, or --"

"I'll be fine, Uncle," Newton mumbled, cringing. The last thing he needed was his uncle interfering -- whether his inventions worked or didn't, either way, it could only add to his humiliation. Really, showing up the next day with a robot bodyguard? "I can just -- I'll handle it."

Gyro stood, scratching the back of his neck. "Are you sure, Newton?"

The boy said nothing, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. On the living room wall, unnoticed, a large bee -- too large -- softly beat its wings.

---

The next morning's bike ride to school felt more like a death march. Newton and the triplets walked the last stretch, coming up on the bike rack just outside the school.

"Are you sure you don't want us to help you, Newton?" Huey asked, frowning worriedly.

"Yeah, we're pretty tough -- we can take him on!" Dewey offered. Newton only shook his head, polishing off the last of his breakfast apple.

"No, I don't want to get you guys caught up in this too," he muttered, tossing the core into the garbage can as they locked up their bicycles. "Besides, it's just going to get worse if I can't handle him on my own."

"Huh? What's going on over there?" Louie wondered aloud, finally noticing the large crowd of students on the school's front lawn. Curious, the boys pushed their way forward, slipping through the crowd to approach the large oak tree that everyone seemed to be gathered around.

"--do you mean, you have no idea how he got there? Someone did it! He must have been here since last night! You've got camera footage, don't you?!"

"I can't explain it, Principal Schnauzer, but I already reviewed it and there's just...nothing. It looks like it's all been scrubbed clean somehow."

"Well cut him down from there, and get his parents and the police on the phone! And get these kids out of here, already! Oh, this is going to be such a mess... You! Get to class! There's nothing to see here!"

Newton and the triplets finally pushed their way to the front, stumbling out in front of the oak tree. It took no more than a split second for Principal Schnauzer to spot them in the crowd, and with a fury Newton hadn't seen before (which, frankly, was saying something for the schnauzer), he abruptly whipped around, pointing directly at him. "You!"

The other students immediately backed away, leaving Newton standing on his own, frozen in shock as the principal stomped closer. Snarling, voice low and dangerous, he shoved his snout nearly against Newton's beak. "I don't know how you managed to pull this off, but I know you're behind this somehow. This fell out of his pocket."

He shoved a slip of paper into Newton's grip, but Newton's attention was elsewhere -- slowly, his eyes trailed up to the oak tree, finally seeing what everyone else had been staring at. There, Jax dangled from a branch at the top of the tree, still dressed in pajamas, hogtied, terrified sobs muffled by the thick gag in his mouth.

He just stared for a moment, slack-jawed. A tiny yelp from Dewey, evidently reading over his shoulder, brought him back to reality and he looked down at the piece of paper in his hands. There, scrawled in his uncle's tell-tale handwriting, was a hastily written note.

He won't be bothering you anymore, Newton.

Let me know if I need to pay anyone else a visit.

--MD

"This isn't over!" Principal Schnauzer raged, swiping the paper back out of Newton's hands before storming away. The triplets exchanged worried looks, but Newton just stood at the base of the oak tree, too stunned to move, as his (now former, he supposed) bully dangled helplessly above his head.

[biletdoux]

stages of love | j.jh TEASER

Pairing: jung jaehyun (nct) + female!reader

Rating: G (teaser), M (completed work)

Genre + Tropes: college!au, romance (angst, fluff, smut)

Warnings: none (in the teaser), full warning list will be posted with completed work

Length: 1.7k+ (teaser), TBA (completed work)

Summary: A playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart.

(Or; your relationship with Jung Jaehyun in ten songs.)

Note: I didn’t intend to post a teaser, but maybe it will motivate me to write faster if I at least just put something out?? maybe lol. Story is based on an 8track playlist I found years ago which has been lost over time. I tried writing this story many times, but I finally got to it, so we’ll see how it goes. Let me know what you think ! <333

1. Peach by IU

smitten at first sight.

“How can I explain this feeling?”

“Alright, I think that sums up about everything we need to cover for today’s lecture. Remember, most of this will be in your final exam. Any questions before you’re all dismissed?” 

Your professor looks up from the board, scans the room and all he sees are most of the students waiting with bated breath, itching to leave the class, and half of those students having already packed their belongings in anticipation. He held them back an extra twenty five minutes today, which is notably longer than previous lectures in which he delayed dismissal.

“Okay, you’re free to go. Chapters nineteen and twenty are due the next time we meet.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, ready to head out with the rest of the class. You like Professor Jang and find that he makes history somewhat digestible, but he had a tendency to lose track of time, which is inconvenient, but more so today since you had agreed to meet up with Yeri. You glance at your phone to see text notifications and curse to yourself. You’re already ten minutes late and Yeri is many things and impatient is one of them. 

You’re one of the first out of the small lecture hall and you shoot her a quick reply before making your way to the oncampus cafe. Through quickened strides and shortcuts engrained from cross-campus treks from class to class, you arrive in record time. You’re slightly out of breath and impressed by your speed, but you stop, frozen in your tracks when you see Yeri’s displeased face. You find her situated in a small, but cozy corner next to the windows, already unpacked with notebooks and papers strewn on the desk ready to review for exams. It's one of the best study spots in the cafe and you immediately know your best friend had to come extra early to nab such a sought after table. 

“About time,” she scowls, “what took you so long?”

You shoot her an apologetic look, “aww, Yeri,” you pout your lips a little too dramatically, “I’m sorry. I just came from history and you know how Professor Jang is.” 

Yeri looks at your jutted lips in disgust, but then her face softens in consideration. “Hm, I do know Jang.” She scrunches up her nose remembering her time in his class last semester. “That old man can talk for days on end and he never lets anyone leave class early. I guess I’ll let you go this time.” 

You beam at her knowing she’s no longer angry for your tardiness. “Great, drinks are on me today. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Yeri forgives as easily and as quickly as she loses her temper. You learned this after a few weeks of being her roommate. 

Yeri says nothing in silent agreement and you place your stuff down across the table next to the chair she reserved for you. You pull out your wallet and weave through the packed cafe to head to the order counter. The line is long and you patiently review the menu. Your roommate has consistent tastes and always orders a vanilla frappuccino regardless of which cafe she goes to, but you base your decision on your mood. You mull over your choices and by the time you reach the barista taking your order, you decide you’re in an ‘iced Americano’ kind of mood today. You have exams on top of exams you need to review for and a stronger caffeine kick is much needed.

After paying, you head back to the table with two drinks in tow. Yeri takes her drink and after you both take a few sips and catch up for the day, you dive straight to work. The two of you decide to review for statistics. 

Between re-summarizing chapters and answering review questions, you muse to yourself about how your college experience thus far hasn't been that much different from your high school life. You didn’t necessarily hate high school, per say, but it was safe to say you didn’t enjoy it. Your heart was in the arts, specifically music, and you had found studying the core subjects to be boring and tedious. You remember being ecstatic to have been accepted and enrolled in a music college, foolishly thinking your days of solving differential equations and memorizing chemical formulas were over. You specifically remember daydreaming of your hours being filled with keyboard practice and composition notes and only such things. Somehow the reality of mandatory general education courses slipped your mind when you constructed such fantasies.

Despite frivolous and preconceived notions of college, you have already survived a semester and you are nearly through your second. 

“Hey, do you remember when this stats assignment is due?” Yeri’s inquiring voice snaps you out of your brief reverie and you search your cluttered brain for a date.

“Uh, I think it’s due, like, a few days before the final, but I’d have to double check.” 

Yeri nods. “Alright, well let’s take a small break. We have some time till then, we don’t have to finish all of it today.” 

You happily agree and set down your pen. Yeri takes a sip of her frappuccino and you lean over the table to get closer to her. “Anyway, did you hear about what happened with Jiwon and Youngjae from the entertainment management department?”

Her eyes glisten with wicked interest. “No. Do tell.”

Break time is always synonymous with gossip hour between you and Yeri. 

You spend the next fifteen minutes dishing what you know and Yeri offers her own input whenever she feels fit. 

“And they think they’re being discreet, but the whole dorm knows they’ve been sneaking around, but guess wha─” Before you can finish your sentence, you were cut off by a loud and energetic voice calling out Yeri’s name.

The two of you look up to see a slim and boyish brunet waving to Yeri and excitedly making his way to your table. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on it, so you let it go.

He smiles happily at Yeri and greets her. “Hey Yeri, how’s it going?” He notices you there and gives you a polite wave, which you return in the same manner.

Yeri replies back breezily, but with her full attention. “Good. Did you need anything, Mark?” 

He flushes just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t escape your eyes. “Erm, nothing I just wanted to remind you that we’re meeting for the music theory project tomorrow at four. I would’ve texted, but I forgot to get your number in class, and I saw you here and thought it was a good opportunity to tell you.” 

Yeri’s eyes widen, “ah right! I completely forgot about it. It’s a good thing you found me here today, huh? Here, I’ll give you my number.”

She reaches her hand out her hand expectantly, and Mark is confused before scrambling to pull out his phone. You can tell Mark looks flustered while Yeri is calmly putting in her contact information. After finishing, she hands his phone back, “okay, all set. Just shoot me a text so I have your number as well. Thanks for reminding me today or I probably would’ve forgotten and not have shown up.” 

Mark smiles again, this time a little more sure than before. “All good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yeri.” 

They wave goodbye and you watch Mark scamper from the cafe. Your eyes follow him, but Yeri is already focused on you again, paying Mark’s retreating form no mind. 

“So…” you start.

“So?” She returns.

“He’s cute.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she shrugs. “I barely know him though. We have music theory together, but this is the first time we’ve talked all semester and we’re only talking because we got paired up for a project.”

Yeri seems apathetic and you study her closely. You notice she’s acting a little too stiffly carefree to be truly indifferent to the situation. You can’t help, but to tease her a bit. “Well, make the most out of this project then.”

Yeri gives you a hard look and you decide to let it go despite finding your best friend’s situation to be amusing. 

“Anyway, keep telling me about Jiwon and Youngjae. You never finished.” Yeri changes the topic, knowing that you might decide to pester her again if she doesn’t.

“As I was saying,” you started up again. A figure outside catches your attention and you peer outside through the window past Yeri’s shoulders. You realize it’s Mark and you watch with interest as he gestures excitedly, pointing to something in his hand, you assume his phone, to some of his friends. From there your eyes wander absentmindedly from one person to the next, and it’s when you see him. 

The reaction is almost instantaneous. 

“Like you were saying?” Yeri urges, but her words fall on deaf ears, for all your attention is captured by the boy next to Mark with heart-shaped lips.

When you see said boy laugh, you notice he has moon for eyes and you unconsciously suck in a sharp breath. You must have been staring too intently without noticing because he turns his head in your direction and you two hold direct eye contact. Like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze and lose all rational thought. Your head is completely blank. You have never seen someone so beautiful and your mind does not know how to process any sensory information at the moment.

Someone calls the boy away and the entire group of friends leave. It’s only then do you find yourself releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding onto so tightly. Your heart is pounding and you feel as though blood is rushing through your ears. 

“Hello?” Yeri sounds annoyed, but you struggle to find the words to answer her. 

You feel a sudden heat rush to color your cheeks a vibrant red and a feeling surges through you that leaves you out of breath and weak at the knees. A steady warmth washes over you quietly and you feel it deep within yourself and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

How silly, you muse. Not to be dramatic, but you think you’re in love.

[writers-block246]

Could you do where you’re playing Angelica in Hamilton and the whole cast knows you and Daveed are practically in love with each other so Lin conspires and sets you up on a blind date with each other pls? 🥰

Yes! I am so so sorry for the late response! We’ve all been super busy with school and college applications. Hopefully, we’ll be able to continue to post more often. I hope you like it :) Notes: italics are thoughts

“I will never be satisfied.”

Your voice trailed off as your chest heaved, trying to regain your breath. You tried to hold back a smile as you gazed across the crowd, who was in awe. Finally, your eyes swept onto the stage, where they met with chocolate brown ones. A blush threatened to overcome your face, and you had never been more thankful for the dim lighting.

Daveed.

The man had been your long-time crush ever since you had started playing Angelica in Hamilton. His sense of humor and kind heart had made you fall quickly. Plus, it helped that he wasn’t bad looking, either. Quite the opposite, in fact. Mocha skin with soft curly brown hair, and those pretty brown eyes invaded your dreams constantly. You often wondered how those strong arms would feel wrapped around your waist.

Shaking your head, you focused on the musical once more. Pushing thoughts of Daveed from your mind, you fell into step with the others.

It seemed like no time at all had passed when Act 1 came to an end. Hurrying back stage, you stumbled when your foot caught on a strewn prop. Bracing for the fall, you opened your eyes when you realized it never came. Those arms you had dreamed about constantly held you tight against Daveed. A low chuckle sounded in your ear.

“Careful there.”

You gave a nervous smile as a light rosy color filled your cheeks. “My bad. Thanks.”

Setting you back on your feet, he smiled brightly. “No problem. I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission, and the blush deepened on your face.

“I appreciate that. You know how clumsy I can be sometimes,” you stated, letting out a nervous chuckle.

He gave a deep laugh, and you smiled at him.

Goodness, I just want to make him laugh all the time.

“Maybe. But it’s cute, though.”

Cute. Did he just call me cute??

Before you had a chance to delve into that, however, someone called Daveed’s name.

An apologetic smile made its way onto his face, and he squeezed your shoulder. “Sorry, I have to go get changed for Act II. I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He flashed you a smile one last time before he made his way to his dressing room.

A whistle sounded behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you come face to face with Lin, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Aww you two are so cute,” he teased.

You blushed furiously. “Shut up, Lin.”

He laughed at your embarrassed tone. “Ah, young love. I remember it quite well.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Maybe, but it’s part of the job. Seriously, though, you should just tell him how you feel. What could go wrong?”

You scoffed. “Literally so many things. He could not feel the same way, and then our friendship could be ruined forever. Maybe the rejection will be so bad that I couldn’t even work here anymore. I-“

A soft murmur of your name stopped the words from falling from your lips.

“All of that talk and you never once considered a good outcome. You know those exist, right?”

You sighed. “Look, Lin. I really don’t have time for this right now. I have to fix my makeup.”

He nodded, though he didn’t look too pleased with your words. Turning on your heel, you walked to your dressing room, forcing yourself to not look back.

Lin just didn’t understand. Clearly, you had feelings for Daveed. And he had an inkling that those feelings were returned. Making up his mind, he headed toward Daveed’s dressing room.

Daveed heard a knock on his door, and looking up from fixing his outfit, he called for them to enter.

Lin popped his head through the door. “Hey, Diggs. What’s up?”

“Just getting ready for the next act, why? What’s happening?” Daveed said while grasping his water bottle.

Lin smiled mischievously. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering when you’re gonna admit your feelings for Y/N and get together with her.”

Water went flying as Daveed began coughing. “What? What are you talking about?”

Lin rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Diggs. I’m not blind.”

Daveed shook his head in denial. “No, man. She doesn’t see me like that, and I’m not risking our friendship because I couldn’t keep my feelings to myself. It’ll pass with time, anyway.”

“Really? Because you’ve been mooning over her for months.”

Daveed’s head lowered. “I just can’t, Lin. I can’t risk losing her.”

Lin nodded at the change in Daveed’s tone, realizing that he probably shouldn’t push the man any further. “Okay, that’s understandable. I’ll see you on stage, man.”

Daveed nodded. “Okay. Break a leg.”

“You, too!”

The door clicked behind Lin, and Daveed forced himself to focus on getting ready for the next act.

Hurrying on your way to the stage, you caught Daveed’s eye once more. You smiled at him, and in return, he winked. A blush formed on your face.

Oooh, boy.

And with that, Act II had begun.

In a whirlwind, the show was over, and everyone was to bow. A hand grasped yours, and you looked up. Daveed squeezed your palm and chuckled low in your ear. You couldn’t help but let loose a shy giggle and squeeze back in response.

After you bowed, you and the cast made your way backstage. You headed toward your dressing room to get changed.

Lin, freshly changed and back on stage after the audience had filed out, walked up to Anthony and Jasmine.

Anthony looked up as Lin approached. “Have any luck with our resident love birds, yet?”

Lin gave a rueful smile. “No, not yet. I tried hinting at it today, but they’re not getting it.”

Jasmine sighed. “Gosh, its sad to see your friends upset when they could be so happy together.”

“Yeah, I wish we could help,” Anthony agreed.

At this, Lin cocked his head to the side. “Actually, you might be able to.”

Pulling them closer, Lin began to reveal his plan.

You were just grabbing your purse when a knock sounded at your dressing room door. “Yeah?” you called.

Jasmine entered and shut the door quietly behind her. “Hey, girl. You did great tonight!”

“Thanks! You, too!”

She smiled, but then gave a slight wince. “Look, I’m going to get straight to the point here. I know about your feelings for Daveed.”

You sighed. “That obvious, huh?”

“Well....” she chuckled. “Pretty much the whole cast, minus him, knows.”

Wincing, you replied: “That’s super embarrassing.”

Jasmine rushed to correct you. “No it’s not! You can’t help your feelings. I’m not going to try to convince you to tell him, because I know you won’t. But, you know, the best way to get over someone, is to get under someone else.” She sent you a suggestive look.

“Ugh, I don’t know, Jas. That’s not really my style.”

“Look, I know a guy, and he’s just your type. And, plus, it’s only one date. If it doesn’t work out, no harm no foul. But if it does....”

“Do you mean, like ... a blind date?”

“Yes! It’s more fun that way,” she giggled.

You weighed your options. On one hand, you weren’t sure you were ready to get back into the dating pool, especially after being so hung up on Daveed for so long. On the other, however, you figured it was probably time to get over him, as nothing was going to come of it. And, hell, now was as good as time as any.

Giving a long sigh, you agreed: “Fine. One date.”

Jasmine smiled and pulled you in for a hug. “Yes! I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll text you the details!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay! Have a great night!”

“You too, Jas.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and you realized what you had just agreed to.

Ugh, let’s hope I didn’t get myself into too much trouble.

Daveed was just about to leave when he heard Anthony calling his name. Stopping, he waited for the other man to catch up with him.

“Yo, man. It was a great show tonight, huh?”

“Definitely. You killed it out there.”

“Thanks, you too! Though, I did want to talk to you about something else.”

Daveed’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay. What’s up?”

Anthony grasped his shoulder. “Look, I know how you feel about Y/N. And I want to help.”

Daveed grimaced. “Man, you too? I guess I’m not really subtle then, huh?”

Anthony chuckled. “Not really, no.”

Sighing, Daveed said: “I already told Lin, I can’t tell Y/N how I feel. It’s too risky, especially with us working together. And I really want her to be apart of my life.”

Anthony squeezed his shoulder. “Well, I’m not here to tell you to admit your feelings to Y/N. I do think, though, that if you’re not going to, you should, at least, try to move on.”

“I don’t know....”

“Look, just give it a shot. I know someone, and I think you’ll like her. One date, that’s all. If it doesn’t work out, no big deal.”

Daveed thought it over. He really didn’t want to move on from you, because he knew he still held deep feelings for you. However, he didn’t plan on confessing anytime soon, so maybe one date wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay.”

Anthony smiled. “Hell yeah! I’ll let her know, and send you the details.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, man.”

“Of course! See you tomorrow!”

Daveed returned the sentiment, and began his trek home.

Ugh, what did I just agree to?

The day of the date came fast, and you found yourself clambering around your room searching for something to wear. Finally, you chose your favorite outfit, one you knew you would be confident and comfortable in. Fixing your makeup, you headed out the door.

You arrived at the restaurant, and once you entered, your scanned the room for your date. Checking your phone, you reviewed the message Jasmine sent you with the details for the date.

According to Jas, he should be sitting in the back booth in a black dress shirt and jeans.

You sighed, steeling yourself for the night ahead, and walked toward the back of the restaurant.

...only to be met with Daveed?

Daveed who happened to be in the back booth with a black dress shirt and jeans on.

No way.

Almost as if he sense your presence, he looked up from his phone screen. Confusion clouded his features.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Daveed.”

“What are you doing here?”

A blush overtook your features. “I’m on a blind date, actually.”

His brows furrowed. “Really? Me, too.....oh.”

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah. I think we’ve been set up.”

He smiled. “Appears so. Could be worse, though.”

Giggling, you teased: “Oh, and how do you figure?”

“Well, I could have worse company,” he smirked.

Blushing again, you agreed.

“Why don’t you take a seat? I mean, you’re already here.”

You nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

A chuckle flew past your lips without you even realizing. You didn’t know why you were so nervous initially. This was just Daveed, you’re close friend and confidant. It was so easy to just fall into place with him.

Dinner flew by as the two of you made small talk. You began to realize you had endless things in common, even outside of your job.

Halfway through the meal, you felt a soft touch on your hand, and you saw that he had placed his larger one overtop yours. His thumb traced soothing circles into the top of your hand, and you felt yourself relax even more.

His hands are so soft and strong, but also so gentle.

Not wanting the night to end, you ordered dessert, which you both fed to one another. A drop of ice cream rested on your lips, and Daveed reached over to wipe it off. A careful hand grasped your face while another dabbed at the liquid, and a giggle escaped you. They seemed to be in abundance tonight. Truly, you hadn’t had this much fun in ages.

“As much as I can’t stand Lin’s meddling, I have to say it worked in my favor tonight,” Daveed said, pretty brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah? I think so, too,” you shyly responded.

You were awarded with a bright grin.

And it was true. You were infinitely glad that Daveed was your date tonight, and not some random guy. This was so much better.

Sadly, dinner finally came to an end, but Daveed insisted on walking you home to ensure your safety. You felt a broad, warm hand settle on your lower back as you exited the restaurant. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

The walk back to your home was filled with comfortable silence, as you reflected on the night’s events.

I can’t believe how well it went. Maybe there could be more to this?

With the way Daveed pulled you closer into his side, you didn’t think that was too outrageous of a belief.

You just couldn’t stop smiling. And neither, it seemed, could he.

Arriving at your doorstep, his hand fell from your back. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed at it’s loss.

Daveed gave you a shy grin. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“I did, too. I’m really glad you were my blind date,” you giggled.

“Yeah?” he questioned as he stepped closer to you.

You raised your head to meet his gaze, eyes falling to his lips. “Yeah.”

A gentle hand found its way to the side of your face, and his thumb ran across your cheek.

He looked for an affirmation in your eyes, and when he found one, his soft, plush lips landed on yours.

He kissed you tenderly, cradling your face between his hands. You rose onto the tips of your feet, desperately trying to get closer to him. Your fingers tangled themselves into his hair. His hands ran down your arms and came to rest upon your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. In response, he grinned against your lips.

After what seemed like hours, you pulled back. “I feel like this is a good time to mention that I’m in love with you.”

He laughed breathlessly. “Oh good, because I’m in love with you, too.”

You needed to remember to send Lin and the rest of the cast a fruit basket.

-Admin Cheyenne :)

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Volleyball Actually: Scene 2

It was a cold, dreary day outside, which meant for you it was a perfect day to eat a freshly-made warm onigiri from Miya’s Onigiri. But really, everyday was a perfect day to eat at Miya’s Onigiri. And it seemed like the rest of Japan had the same idea as you, seeing the long line of customers when you walked in.

You made your way up the front of the line soon enough with the queue moving fairly quickly. When you reached the register, the girl recognized you as you took your mask off to order. And before you could even speak, she asked if you wanted your usual, to which you nodded happily. It wasn’t the first time this happened, although it was with a different worker. But with how much you visited the restaurant, you weren’t surprised the employees remembered your face. 

Holding onto your receipt with the order number, you walked over to sit down in an empty corner of the store to wait for your food. Sitting down on one of the stools, you checked your phone to see multiple text notifications. There was one from Kiyoko, wanting to make sure you were coming to the big match next week, one from Kageyama confirming your visit his team again later in the week, and some from your manager about an upcoming schedule.

A tap on your shoulder made you jump up from your seat.

“How’s my favorite customer doing?”

“’Samu!” You greeted him with a hug, surprised by his sudden appearance. 

Your friendship with Osamu had started out as a purely business relationship- customer and restaurant owner relationship to be exact. You had just moved into the city and went to the newly opened Miya Onigiri’s flagship restaurant for lunch, after seeing all the good reviews. After noticing you coming in frequently, he stroked up a conversation with you while waiting for your food one day, and the rest was history. 

“What are you doing here? You said you’d be busy this week with finalizing the opening of your new restaurant in Miyagi.”

He took a seat in the empty stool next to you. “I had to stop by today to check on the store’s inventory. And I heard you visited the team yesterday. How’d it go?”

“Great! Your onigiris were a hit with the team by the way. Thanks for the suggestion.” You shot him a thankful smile, before remembering what Hinata had texted you shortly after your visit. “Why didn’t you tell me your twin brother was also on the team?”

Osamu burst out laughing at your accusing question, putting his arms up in mock surrender when you frowned at his reaction. “‘Tsumu always needs to be knocked down a peg or two, and having a pretty girl not know who he is would have crushed his ego.”

You had thought it was a strange that there was someone with the Miya surname on the team, when looking up how many players were in the MSBY Black Jackals team. But when you had brainstormed ideas with Osamu on what food to to bring on your visit, and he didn’t mention anything, you thought it had just been a coincidence. 

“Also, last week that bastard said my onigiri was salty, so he deserved it.”

“Have either of you matured at all from high school?” You deadpanned. 

“I have, but he dumbs me down.” Osamu shrugged.

You shook your head with a sigh, not being able to imagine what it would be like to put up with two Miyas, when one was already draining your energy. Bless the Miya matriarch. 

“You know you could have just looked it up on the internet to find out.” he added.

“I wasn’t really that curious to investigate. And unlucky for you, he wasn’t even there when I went to visit anyways.” You looked to the front thinking you had heard your order number being called out.

“Well, let me know if you go visit them again. I’ll make him pay for the food next time. But you know, I am surprised you and the shorty are so close after all these years.” Osamu changed the subject, referring to your relationship with Hinata. “You weren’t even in the same year.”

You breathed a happy sigh, thinking back to your time at Karasuno. “The team, when I was in my third year, was really special. With everything we went through that year, it felt like we were one big tight-knit family. So I try to keep in touch with everybody and visit them whenever I can. And it helps that we have a big group chat with everyone that was on the team, making it a bit easier.” You smiled, thinking back to the last time you all got together- it being the Tanakas’ wedding. But even then, not everyone was able to make it due to their busy lives. “But I guess I do dote more on the first-years though. Even more so with Shoyo as of late, since he had gone to Brazil right after graduation.”

Having heard one of his workers call him over, Osamu got up as soon as you finished talking, heading over to the counter. You watched as he grabbed the bag handed to him, walking back over to you before placing the said bag in your hands.

“I told them to add an extra onigiri in there.” He informed you, sitting back down.

“Is this what it feels like to be a valued customer?” you asked, placing your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “Did you know I didn’t even have to tell them my order up at the front? She knew what my usual was as soon as she saw my face.”

He smirked in response. “I think that’s rather a testament to how much you come here.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“With how often you come here and the amount you order when you do, I can’t help but be worried about the health of my favorite customer. I want you to live a long life ordering my onigiri, not have it be the cause of your death.”

You shrugged, brushing off his comment. “It’s healthier than other fast food options, since it doesn’t have any msg- which is good enough for me.” You looked over at the crowd of customers that had just walked in, seeing the restaurant having become even more busier than when you first came in. “I should let you get back to work.”

You got up from your seat, collecting your things after putting back on your face mask. Osamu watched you get ready to leave from his seat, when a sudden thought occurred to him.

“Oh yeah. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” You paused your movement, waiting for him to continue. “How would you feel being the face of Miya’s Onigiri?”

“Eh?!” You reacted like he had just told you Atsumu was actually just him in a blonde wig. “Me?”

“I told you about the new location we were opening in Miyagi, yeah?” Seeing you nod, he continued explaining. “Well, I’ve been thinking about doing a celebrity endorsement, and I thought of you since you’re from the prefecture.”

You still weren’t understanding why he would ask you of all people. “Why me though?”

“Didn’t you say you were a singer?” 

“Singer? Sure. Celebrity? Not really.”

“C’mon. It’s not like we’re a super famous company either. Think of it as beneficial opportunity for the both of us.”

“I feel like it’s more beneficial on my end than yours, though.” You frowned. 

Osamu brushed off your worry. “I’d much rather work with someone who I know and trust than a random person anyways.”

Knowing it was a good opportunity for publicity, you sighed, relenting. “Well, If you’re okay with it, then I guess I am too. But,” you raised your finger, “I’ll only accept onigiri as payment. I’ll feel bad if the advertisement doesn’t help bring in any customers.” Osamu tried to argue, but you just ignored him. “I’ll give my manager your number so that y’all can work out the scheduling.”

And without giving him a chance to negotiate the deal, you waved him goodbye, scurrying out the door.

Director’s Cut: Scene 2 Part 1

“Hey, Tobio!”

“Hai, Hoshiumi-san.” Kageyama looked at his teammate, in the middle of changing into his practice clothes.

“Did you see this?” Hoshiumi showed the Adler’s setter Hinata’s picture posted the night before. “We have to be careful, Tobio. These guys might steal (Y/N) away from us! That’ll mean no more visits, no more delicious bentos, or sitting on our side of the court during matches. And worst of all, no more good luck hugs!” 

Hoshiumi started to pace back and forth around the locker room.

“Senpai said she will come visit us the day after tomorrow.” Kageyama replied with a straight face, resuming his changing.

“Who’s coming tomorrow?” The Schweiden Adler’s captain, Hirugami Fukuro, asked the two younger players, walking into the locker room.

“Captain!” Seeing his captain brought an idea to the Little Giant. “Can you convince Sachiro to come tomorrow with his dog? She likes dogs, right?” 

Kageyama nodded in response.

“(Y/N)-senpai said she’ll visit on Thursday.” Kageyama answered the confused Hirugami.

“Oh, Sachiro will definitely want to come then. He wasn’t able to come because of a midterm last time she came to visit.” Hirugami replied. 

“Who’s coming to visit?” Ushijima asked, having come back from the bathroom. He wiped his wet hands with a handkerchief, folding the wet part inwards before putting it away in his pocket. 

“(Y/N)-senpai.”

“I see.” The wing spiker nodded in understanding. “I will bring some of my tomatoes tomorrow. She mentioned she wanted to try some of them last time we talked.”

“Tomatoes? The Black Jackals can give her tomatoes too! We need something that’ll convince her to stay with us.”

“My tomatoes are of high quality. The MSBY Black Jackals will not be able to find fruit with similar quality and grade easily.” Ushijima responded in confidence.

“That’s true. (Y/N)-senpai seemed very interested when Ushijima-san mentioned his gardening to her.” Kageyama confirmed, agreeing with the ace.

“Maybe I should bring some seeds for her as well?” Ushijima asked. “You should ask her if she has fertile soil to support good seedlings.”

Hoshiumi had already left the locker room, realizing the conversation was going nowhere.

The Karasuno alumni gave him a nod, making a mental note to text his senpai after practice.

Director’s Cut: Scene 2 Part 2

You had a busy schedule the following morning, so you prepared to sleep a bit earlier than usual. Right as you were about to fall asleep, your phone pinged loudly, waking you up. Drowsily, you grabbed your phone to check who had texted you. 

Reading the text, you blinked in confusion, rubbing your eyes to see if you had read the message correctly.

Received 9:10 p.m.

From: Karasuno #9

Message: Senpai, do you have good dirt?

______

(A/N): Hoped you like Part 2! Leave a like, comment, or do whatever ^^

[adenei]

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 11

AO3 || FFN

A/N: In case something looks familiar to you, yes this does include the Day 8 prompt in this chapter with a few slight alterations to fit the rest of the chapter more accurately.

**************

New Endeavors

Ron woke up the following morning to Hermione’s alarm going off. He reached over to her in an attempt to coerce her into having a longer lie-in, but he pulled back when he heard her squeal.

“No, no, no, no, I’m late! This is not good!” she said frantically. She jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. 

As much as he didn’t want to see her get moving, he could certainly get used to the sight of her walking around in just her knickers and one of his shirts. Ron closed his eyes as he heard the shower turn on and replayed the night before. After they had cleared the air and spent the rest of the afternoon exploring their new relationship, they’d gone to dinner with her parents. 

Hermione had suggested she spend the day with them today, and Ron was fine with it. He knew it was important to her to reconnect, and some of that needed to be done with just the three of them. So that’s where Hermione was getting ready to head now. He heard the door open and Hermione came out wrapped only in a towel.

“I forgot to grab clothes,” she said in frustration with herself. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Not if you keep walking around in just a towel, I won’t be,” Ron said. “Are you sure you can’t come back here for a little bit?” He knew she was referring to her leaving him alone all day, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and get a little extra time with her first.

Hermione had gathered her outfit in her arms and turned around to give him a look. “I’d love to, but I’m already late. And we both know if I crawl back in bed, I may not have the resolve to get up again.” She walked back into the bathroom. “What are you going to do all day?”

“I dunno. I’ll think of something. Don’t worry about me. Have fun with your parents.”

Hermione came out of the bathroom again and walked over to the edge of the bed. “I just feel bad.”

Ron sat up and swung his legs over the side to meet her. “Don’t. You need this time with them. That’s why we came. I’ll find something to do, and I’ll see you later tonight. Just...keep me updated, okay?” Slight worry etched across his face. He knew he was on good terms with her parents, but he still worried that she might not return. 

She must have noticed his concern because she leaned over and kissed him. “I will. I’ll see you tonight.” Ron nodded as he watched her grab her bag and head out the door. He laid in bed a while longer before finally getting up.

After getting ready for the day and finishing his breakfast, Ron made his way to to look through some of the brochures from the Australian Ministry. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the phone on the wall ring. At first he wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like he answered telephones often. He reminded himself not to shout into the receiver like that awful attempt at calling Harry when he was younger.

He picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”

“Hello, Ron? Is that you? This is Graham. Graham Jacobsen. I showed you to your flat when you first arrived.”

Ron had honestly completely forgotten all about the man. Now that he thought about it, they probably should have updated the Australian Ministry days ago. “Er, yes, hi. Is everything alright?” Ron asked.

“Yes, yes, of course! I’m just checking in to see how your search has been going and if you need any assistance!”

“It’s been great, actually. We’ve managed to locate Hermione’s parents, fairly quickly actually, and she’s been spending the last few days getting reacquainted with them.”

“Excellent, excellent! So the resources the Ministry sent over with the muggle teeth cleaners and addresses of Wilkin’s in the surrounding area were no doubt helpful, then?”

“Er, yeah,” Ron said. He wasn’t about to tell Graham that they’d actually stumbled upon Jean and Hugo by accident.

“Great. So anyways, like I said, I was asked to get an update. Since you’ve located them, we were wondering how much longer you were anticipating to stay.”

“I’m not sure. I can talk to Hermione and see if we can get a clearer answer for you tomorrow or the day after if that’s okay.”

“Yes, sure! No rush. It will just help to have an idea to prepare your portkey trip back. Let’s see, let’s see, oh yes! One more thing. You received a letter here from England through the Portkey Post. Wouldn’t want to make owls travel all this way. If you’re available, you can come pick it up at the Ministry anytime.”

A letter? Is everything alright back home? “Sure, yeah, I can actually be down there in fifteen minutes.”

“Excellent, I’ll meet you in the entrance hall. See you in a jif!” Graham said before hanging up.

Ron hung up the phone and immediately began moving around the apartment to grab his things. He figured he could spend a few hours walking around and seeing what else Melbourne had to offer from the magical side of things. Before he knew it, he was apparating to the spot Graham showed them almost a week ago, and walked the short distance to the Ministry entrance.

He had barely stepped a few paces inside when he saw Graham waving frantically. “Ron! Over here!” They met in the middle as Graham said, “So good to see you again! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay here so far.”

“Yeah, it’s been great,” Ron agreed.

“Here’s the letter that came for you. If you want to send a response, we send our international post out at 13:00 every day. The drop box is over here.”

Ron followed him over to the box that had a small slot in it. He was curious how this system worked. Whether it was his lack of knowledge about other cultures and customs or not, he always assumed the owls just traveled the distance to their destination. Though, for a continent like Australia that was so far away from other places, he supposed this system made sense. It’d be hard for an owl to travel over an ocean with no resting points.

“Thanks.” 

“Absolutely. Well, I must be getting back to my obligations. Like I said, feel free to call if you ever need anything. Just press 9 on your dial pad and it will transfer your call to my office. A little magical touch so you don’t have to memorize a ten digit number. I look forward to hearing from you!”

Graham shook Ron’s hand before walking away. Ron looked at the letter in his hand. He didn’t want to return to the flat just to read it, so he decided to walk around a bit to find a place to sit and read what it said. There was a small park a few blocks away that Ron stumbled upon. He chose one of the vacant benches and sat down. The handwriting looked like Harry’s.

Hey Ron,

I hope you and Hermione are having luck finding her parents. It’s odd here without you two, but I’ve been keeping busy. Listen, I’m not trying to rush the process, but I wanted you to know that I met with Kingsley yesterday, and he said they’re looking for recruits in the Auror program. The other letter that I sent with this is from him. He’s inviting us into the program if we want. I think I’m going to go for it. We have to complete the screening process by the end of the month, so I’m hoping you’ll be back by then to start with me if that’s what you want to do. By the way, are you and Hermione sorted yet? Ginny wants to know. Well, anyways, let me know when you decide. 

Harry

Ron reread Harry’s letter a few times before pulling out the second piece of parchment that he now knew to be from Kingsley. Was this actually an invitation to join the Aurors? Would he be able to achieve his dream? Did he still want to pursue that dream? He slowly peeled off the wax seal and unfolded the official Ministry parchment.

Mr. Weasley,

I hope this finds you well and that you are having success on your current mission. I am reaching out to you to personally invite you to join the Aurors. As you know, we are woefully understaffed as a result of the war, and your integral efforts make you a prime candidate for the program. Typically, the training period is an extensive three years, but given your experiences, you will have an opportunity to pass out of the training program after a year, and be promoted to Junior Auror status. 

I understand that you are predisposed on a mission, but this offer is time sensitive. The Auror department has agreed to honor this offer for select people, yourself included, but they are requiring all candidates to begin on 3 August. Paperwork and a screening, however, must be completed by 1 July. I have attached the preliminary paperwork for you to set up your appointments with the Ministry, and they will be in touch should you be interested in pursuing this avenue. 

Please take the time to think about this, but do not wait too long to reply. The Aurors will be lucky to have someone with your skillset in the department. Best of luck on your continued search. All my best,

Kingsley

Ron’s hands were shaking slightly at the letter. He had a personal invitation from the Minister of Magic to join the Aurors. His finger followed the application that he looked over. It seemed straightforward enough, and the prospect was certainly appealing. He knew deep down that he absolutely wanted to try, but something was preventing him from returning to the Australian Ministry to fill out the paperwork and send it back that same day. 

Ron thought it through to make sure he’d have enough time to discuss with Hermione first. He reviewed the application, and it said he could return his paperwork from Australia, and it said that he could request a timeframe for his appointment. That was good. Maybe he could return next week, but his heart wrenched at the thought of having to leave Hermione here. Ron folded the contents of the two letters and tucked them in his jacket pocket for safekeeping. 

He looked around the park, thinking about what to do next. It was a beautiful, crisp day, just like every other day had been since they’d arrived, even if it was colder. He smiled, thinking Hermione would be cold, but he was perfectly comfortable. The weather here differed so greatly from the weather in England, and Ron was slightly envious of how nice it seemed to be year round.

He finally decided to walk around. This part of Melbourne wasn’t as familiar to him, but Ron figured he could always apparate back to the flat if need be. A smile spread across his lips as he stood up and began walking back towards the Ministry. He’d gone from not knowing what life had in store for him now that the war was over to having a career prospect. Nothing could break his mood as he looked around at the places to explore. 

About an hour later, Ron found himself wandering aimlessly around Melbourne’s streets. He’d gone in several of the shops that interested him along the way, and had just finished up a light meal he’d gotten at a cafe. The food was great, and he wished Hermione had been there to. He told her he was fine with today’s plan, but he still missed her. They’d been spending so much time together that it felt odd to be apart from her, even if it was just for the day. Even when her mum had whisked her away to shop, he still knew exactly when he’d see her next.

As he made his way down another new street, Ron stopped outside the window of a unique looking jewelry shop. He knew it was still early in their relationship, but he walked inside anyways to see what the display cases held. Most everything would probably be out of his price range, but maybe he’d gather an idea or two for Hermione.

“Good afternoon,” a bright and energetic salesperson said to him.

“Hello,” Ron said.

“Is there anything I can help you find today?”

“Oh, er, not really. Just looking,” his ears turned red. 

“Not a problem at all! I’ll be around if you need anything,” she smiled and went back to her work.

As he walked around slowly, browsing the selection, he was appreciative that there seemed to be a wide variety of items and price ranges. Ron avoided the section with the rings. It was way too early for that, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up with wishful thinking. So, he found his way over to the earrings, which he was pretty sure she never wore often, though he was certain her ears were pierced, and then the necklaces. He shuddered at the recollection of Lavender giving him that horrifying ‘sweetheart locket’ back in sixth year, and swore to himself that he wouldn’t get anything like that for Hermione. 

Once he’d finished circling the perimeter of glass cases, he moved to the center displays, which appeared to be bracelets. There was a small display among them that had a variety of blank bracelets and little pieces scattered all around. 

Ron looked around and caught the salesperson’s attention. “Find something I can help you with?”

“Er, yes. What are these?” Ron asked her.

“Oh! Great question. These are charm bracelets! Are you familiar with them?” she asked kindly.

“No, not really,” Ron admitted.

“No matter! You see, you pick out a bracelet first, though I’m sure you would have gathered that, and then you have all of these amazing charms to choose from. We have hundreds of them on this display for you to choose from.”

“So, the charms are like symbols, then?” Ron asked for clarification.

“Precisely! They are becoming increasingly popular.”

Ron nodded as an idea was forming in his mind. He was unable to get anything for Hermione’s last birthday, and Christmas for that matter. Maybe this could be the way to make it up to her. “How much?”

“The bracelets are 50 dollars, and then the charms range anywhere between 15 and 50 depending on what you’re looking for.”

Ron thought about what the salesperson said as he felt the wallet in his pocket. Bill and George had both given him money before he’d left. He was determined not to use it unless he had to, since he felt guilty that he was taking it to begin with. Maybe he’d splurge a bit, and when they got back to England, he’d take up a part-time job at the shop with George in order to pay him back, and then earn a little spending money of his own.

In truth, he was about to use it to pay for their posh dinner the other night, but Hermione had insisted she use her parent’s card. He’d need to make it up to them, too, at some point. Focus, Ron. Okay, I could get her the bracelet, and a few charms. No more than five. He knew if he didn’t set a limit, he’d blow all his money on this one gift.

“Okay, I’d like the silver bracelet, I think. Is there a list of charms, or will I need to look through all these individually?” Not that he minded, since he had nowhere else to be today.

“We have a list right here!” There was a stack of laminated papers that she grabbed one from and handed to him. “When you’ve decided what you’d like, I can take them out for you and we can put them on the bracelet at the register.”

“Great, thanks!” Ron said as he began to work his way through the list. 

She wasn’t kidding when she said there were hundreds. They were broken down into categories on the double sided sheet. He knew he definitely wanted to get her the book charm. That was without a doubt. He saw that there was also a heart with roses engraved in it. It looked fancier than the other charms, but he figured he could splurge a bit on it since it held a special meaning for them both. 

As his eyes skimmed the list he noticed an assortment of animals. I wonder…, he thought. He saw there was definitely a dog, which he wasn’t surprised by, but he was even more pleased to see that there was an otter charm! “Well, they are quite cute,” he muttered to himself. 

Four charms down, one more. He initially looked for an elf, but didn’t have any luck there. He wasn’t surprised, and he worried that even if he saw one, it’d be one of those Christmas looking ones. Giving up on that, Ron ended up finding a seashell charm which instantly brought him back to Shell Cottage. That was no doubt the turning point in their relationship, and it also represented the place where Dobby was buried. It could definitely serve a double meaning, for sure.

He brought the paper up to the counter and told the kind salesperson his choices, watching as she bustled around to collect everything. She rang the items up, and Ron pulled out his wallet to pay for the items. He carefully tucked the receipt away so he could keep track of his purchases.

“Would you like this wrapped up in a gift bag?” she asked him.

“Yes, please,” he said, glad to have her assistance.

He asked if the charms could be arranged the following way on the bracelet: book, otter, terrier, seashell, and heart. It represented the chronological order of the charm’s meanings to their relationship. The salesperson finished wrapping up the bracelet and handed him the gift bag when she was finished. “Thank you so much for your business, and best of luck. I’m sure your special someone is going to love this!”

“Thanks for your help,” Ron said as he exited the shop.

He figured he should probably head back before he spent any more money that day. Ron could watch the telly, and there was enough food for him to make something at the flat. There was an alley nearby that he decided to turn into, so he could apparate back to the flat. Better to be safe than sorry, since he really had no idea where he was. He turned on the spot and appeared at the apparition point nearby. He approached the building, typed in the code and let himself into the foyer. 

When he made it up the stairs, he unlocked the door and walked into the main living area, just as a silvery ball floated toward him. At first, his heart constricted and he immediately became on edge. He was even more worried for Hermione’s safety when the ball transformed into Hermione’s otter patronus.

A moment later he could hear Hermione’s nervous voice. “Hi! I hope this works. It’s the first time I’ve tried to send a patronus message. Anyways, I’m having dinner with my parents and will be back after. Most likely between seven and eight. I hope you don’t mind. See you soon.” 

The silver otter pranced over to him and moved in a figure eight pattern around his legs before nuzzling him and disappearing into a wisp. Ron couldn’t help but smile with pride. Hermione was okay, and she’d produced her first corporeal patronus complete with a message. He checked his watch as he set the bag down on the table. Only a few hours until he could see her again.

[grantyort]

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.  

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

 [Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean! 

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait! 

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

 DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white] 

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response.  Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go. 

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for... 

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

[kim-chann]

“Love?” [Osomatsu X Reader]

This was written on Wattpad, but I decided to post some written stories here too. Anyways, this was requested for a while back on Wattpad, but I decided to share it here on Tumblr too. 

"(Y/n)-chan, it's an emergency! (Y/n)-chan!!" Osomatsu screams, bursting into your room.

You turn your head, eyes wide as Osomatsu runs into your room, a face full of distraught in urgency, "What's wrong?! Did Karamatsu go missing?!"

"No--"

"Did Choromatsu lose his Nyaa-chan tickets?"

"No--"

"Did Ichimatsu lose ESP Kitty again?"

"No--"

"Did--

"No!" He interrupts you before you continue blabbering anything about his younger brothers. He pants, still recovering from running to your house. "It's not about my brothers," He sucks up a breathe, "Totoko-chan's looking for a boyfriend!"

"..." You stare at him. "Eh?"

"I know right! Now's my chance, (Y/n)-chan! I can finally ask her out!" He cheers, jumping up and down, doing handstands and dancing around chanting, 'girlfriend' with a blush on his cheeks.

"Oh..." You feel your heart throb painfully, a heavyweight pressing on your chest, watching Osomatsu cheer on, extremely happy that Totoko was looking for a boyfriend.

You knew that Osomatsu has had a crush on Totoko ever since he was a child. Of course, he would, she was much prettier than you anyway! (You're very beautiful, don't listen to my writing). You sigh and force on a smile as you block out the sad feeling in your gut, trying so hard not to shed tears right in front of him.

"That's very," you swallow a breath, "good to hear...!"

Osomatsu stops cheering, before taking your hands in his, "You gotta help me!" He exclaims, his eyes glistening with confidence. "Train me."

"...What do you mean?"

"Train me to become a good boyfriend for Totoko-chan!"

"What--"

He goes on his knees, not even letting you answer, "Please! Please! You're my best friend! You gotta help me! Please, please, please--!"

He grabs on your ankles, repeating his begs as he cries at your feet.

"Okay, okay! Please stop!" You beg back, hating Osomatsu begging for someone that can never be you.

"Really?" He immediately gets up from the floor and stands up straight, "That was easier than I thought! Lucky!~" He rubs his index finger under his nose and laughs.

You glare at him before crossing your arms, "Fine. Okay, when do we start? Tomorrow? Next Saturday? Sun--"

"Now!"

"Now?!"

"Yes!"

You open your mouth, struggling to find words, before sighing out in defeat. You were happy for Osomatsu, you were. But knowing that fact that he's come for your advice for a woman that he loves on which was not you, it was very hard not to hold in the heavyweight in your chest. But as long as he was happy, you were happy

You turn to him, "Okay, fine."

__

"Show me how you'd dress if you were going in a date with Totoko-chan." You say.

You were creating up scenarios and observing how Osomatsu would react to them, before giving him advice and correcting things. Osomatsu immediately dragged you to his home when you agreed to help him, making it easier for you to create scenarios when everything he owned was in his house anyway.

He shuffles behind the paper door before opening it with a grin. Osomatsu was wearing his signature red hoodie with some jeans that he always wore.

"What? You didn't even change." You acknowledge, an eyebrow quirked at his actions. "Huh? I can't wear what I like to wear on dates? Lameee." He drags out his last remark, arms crossed behind his head as he puckers his lips in disappointment.

"Well, you can wear what you like on dates as long as it's casual. But knowing Totoko-chan she would always want her man prettied up for her to brag about on social media, you know? Try something more... formal." You critique, snapping your fingers in emphasis.

Osomatsu nods and hums at the same time, "You gotta point, (Y/n)-chan... so what do I wear?" He tilts his head.

"You can always wear a suit."

Osomatsu runs over to the closet and changes into the usual blue suit that he and his brothers all have. "Tada!~ Will Totoko-chan date me now?~ Hehe~" He winks.

You smile at him, eyebrows arched in appeal, "...Well," You say, trying to find the right words, "It can work, but do you have any other suits?"

He shakes his head.

You sigh, 'That won't due at all.' You think to yourself. You clear your throat, "Well since this is just training, make sure to buy a new suit because your blue one is overused and a bit old, is it not?"

"Ehh? But suits are expensive!" He pouts, puckering his lips.

You find yourself guilty as you pull out a 10,000 yen bill ($100). "Here, don't use it on Panchi--"

He swats it away from your hands as soon as you pull it out, "Yahoo! I can win big looting with this much money!! Yaho--" "AHEM."

He stops when you glare at him, "Use it on a cheap suit. Don't you use it on gambling, Oso. This is serious. Do you want to be Totoko-chan's boyfriend or what?"

He immediately calms down and sits on the ground, face serious, ready for your next scenario.

You didn't know why but you would felt a bit happier if he spent the money on Panchinko than Totoko. But you clear those thoughts from your head and tell him to stand up.

"How would you hold her hand?"

Osomatsu grabs your hand and interlocks his fingers into yours. You feel your heart hammer in your chest and eyes grow wide as your cheeks grow red. 'No,' you think. 'I can't, this is for Totoko-chan, not for you!'

You hold his hand, feeling it, before your face scums up in disgust, "Why are your hands so clammy?"

You feel Osomatsu tense up a bit, "Uh... umm."

Oh my fucking God. EW.

You yank your hand away from his, wiping it on your pants. "Gross! Gross!" You yell, the feeling of his clammy hands lingering on your hand was still buzzing strong. "Lesson number one!" You exclaim, "Wash your hands after jerking off!!"

__

It was late evening as you took Osomatsu out for a walk before his brothers go home, not wanting them to interrupt your 'dating session' with Osomatsu.

Your cheeks were still flared up a bit, knowing that you indirectly touched his dick from his hands. Disgusting. But honestly, you touch both his hand and his dick? What a combo-- Okay, that's enough.

Your lesson this time was trying not to make the atmosphere awkward with your date. That was important. But it was a bit difficult, knowing that you just held his clammy hands after he just recently jerked off. Even Osomatsu was flustered. Strange.

"Osomatsu, try to start a conversation, it's getting awkward..."

"Ah! Right, right."

He clears his throat before he thinks to himself for a moment, "So, um... (Y/n)-chan," He starts off, "Did you like the date?"

Him using your name as training was a bit difficult, not knowing if he was getting into character or not. But you really wished he wasn't. "It was really good, Oso! Thank you for taking me out!" You giggle, smiling.

He giggles too, his cheeks dusted with pink.

"But if Totoko-chan didn't like it, what do you say?"

"You ungrateful, bitch."

"NO!"

"Eh--"

"For the love of God-- NO! That's the last thing you wanna say to her!" You say, trying so hard to contain your laughter.

"Ehh? But I'm trying my best! I'm sensitive here!" He puckers his lips and pouts again.

"Yes, I know that, Oso. But please just be gentle on women. If you really rile Totoko-chan up, I don't want her to hauler up your ass!"

"Oho~? You care about me, (Y/n)-chan. You're so cute!" He teases, him ruffling your hair.

"Of course, I'm your best friend!" You force yourself to say 'friend', trying not to damage your heart than it was already was.

Osomatsu remains silent at your remark before he yawns, "I'm tired."

"Don't yawn during your date, she'll think you're bored of her."

"Geez, why are women so complicated and overreact to everything we men do?" He rolls his eyes.

"I don't know, that's how this generation works now I guess." You pause, "But you're tired, right? Let's end the training session for today for we can continue tomorrow." You stop walking and look at Osomatsu.

"But I'm gonna ask her out tomorrow!"

"What? But that's too soon!"

"Eh... you win some you lose some. I gotta shoot my shot before anybody else gets on that sweet piece of ass!" He laughs.

Your eye twitches, trying not to kick him in the balls. "Osomatsu, don't say that at loud in front of Totoko, she'll just think you're just using her for a one night stand."

Osomatsu sighs and nods, "Fine, fine."

"Okay, before we go on our separate ways, let's review," You clear your throat, "The first thing you're gonna do tomorrow?"

"Buy a suit."

"What should you always do with Totoko-chan?"

"Listen to what she has to say, and don't question too much about her."

"Good. What about on a date?"

"Start conversations, and don't talk about yourself. Let Totoko-chan do most of the talking and only answer if she's asking you."

"What's another important thing you should remember?"

"...Smile at the appropriate time-- god, why do I have to do that?" He complains.

"If you stare at a girl and smile at her the whole time, she'll think you're a huge creep."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He says.

"And the last one for now: when should be the appropriate time to confess?"

"When you feel it in your gut and she has your attention..."

You smile, "Good! You did great." You say, ruffling his hair as he chuckles.

"Anyways, go get plenty of rest now, and go get Totoko-chan tomorrow!" You say, before you part ways, waving.

Osomatsu watches you go, a blush on his cheeks. He feels his heart hammering when he remembers the feeling of your hand run through his dark-brown locks. It was comforting. Really, really, comforting. He understands why Ichimatsu really likes head starches a lot now. He watches your figure disappear from his sight.

His body was tense.

His mind was trying to memorize what was his plan for tomorrow but it was all wiped down to one thing: (Y/n).

Why was he feeling like this? This was for Totoko-chan, right? When he tries to replace the image of you with Totoko-chan, his feelings turn a bit sick before automatically picturing your face once again.

...

Oh.

Oh.

God... how was this gonna work tomorrow?

__

You dig your feet into your ground, a nervous blush on your cheeks as you lean against the tree. Why did Osomatsu call you out? Was he going to need help shopping?

"Oyyy! (Y/n)-chan!!" Osomatsu calls, gaining your attention. You turn your head as your eyes grow wide. He was wearing a red suit, what was going on?

"Oh wow, Oso! You look great!" You compliment. You felt a bit relieved that the money that you gave him was not spent on Panchinko but on a really great suit. You felt proud of yourself for that one.

Osomatsu giggles, a blush on his cheeks. "Thanks! You look hot too, babe!"

Woah what. You feel your cheeks redded at the sudden nickname, "W-Woah, where did that come from?" You ask, but secretly, you really liked it.

Osomatsu rubs his index finger under his nose. "Hehe, just thought I'd try it out."

You smile before you tug on his suit, "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you wearing your suit now? You should take it for Totoko-chan later today." You note, crossing your arms.

Osomatsu's cheeks dust with pink, "Oh... it's nothing really. Don't mind me." He says, shaking his head. "Okay...?"

He clears his throat, "Okay, let's go, I'm going to take you somewhere where you haven't been before. It's gonna be great!" He laughs, his hand gripping on your wrist gently before tugging you forward, making you run with him.

Shock is the only thing you can really feel at this moment. But nonetheless, you really enjoyed it.

__

"How'd you reserve such a restaurant like this?" You say, sitting down at the table where the server led the two of you too.

Osomatsu giggles, "Secret, babe."

You blush again, "But I thought this was for Totoko."

Osomatsu's eyes widen when you mention her, trying to find his words, "...I'm just trying to pay you back."

"Oh! Well, you didn't really need to go this far, you know?" You smile at him.

Smile at the appropriate times

Osomatsu smiles at you, and shakes his head, "Nah, you deserve this. Besides, you've been too nice for a NEET like me."

"Wow, that is the first time you really admitted that you're a NEET." You raise your brows at him.

He stammers for a bit, "Well, I don't know. It just slipped out, babe." His poor excuse made you giggle at his awkwardness.

A server comes to your table as the both of you order, with smiles on your faces.

Silence grows between the two of you, as Osomatsu can feel his feat sweat as he fumbles with his suit.

Start conversations

"So um, (Y/n)-chan," Osomatsu starts, clearing his throat. "How are things lately?"

"Um? We just hung out yesterday. But I guess things are well. How about you? Ready to confess to Totoko later today?" You ask, leaning into the table, taking your drink straw in your mouth.

He feels himself grow uneasier by the second, he didn't want to spend the whole date... wait date? Yeah! Date! The thought was burned into his head as his cheeks flare up a shade of red. "Y-Yeah! I'm so r-ready!"

"Are... you okay?" You ask, leaning up, sitting straight.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it."

He dares himself to look up at you in the eyes as his lips fall into a flat line. He wants to change up the subject about (Y/n) but how?

Listen to what she has to say, and don't question too much about her.

'Right, right.' He thinks to himself, confidence coming back to him. "I'm just wondering, what are some random facts about you?" He blurts out.

You blink, "Umm... well, I really like (favorite food), and I enjoy (favorite hobby), and hang out with you if that counts as a random fact, haha." You laugh.

'Was that a flirt? Was she flirting?' Osomatsu questions himself, his eyes locked on your joyed expression, admiring your amused face.

"What about you? What are some facts about you that I don't know?"

Osomatsu yelps, realizing that you were asking him a question, "Oh um... I did... I did ballet as a child--"

You burst out laughing, "Oh my god really?"

"Heyyy!"

"Don't get me wrong, it really suits you." You say, giggling to yourself.

"Is that an insult? You're so mean, babe!" He crosses his arms, making you laugh even more.

"No! No, I'm sorry! Please continue." You encourage.

Osomatsu huffs, "I'm really good at shooting games at the arcade."

"Ooh, that's pretty cool! I'm not that bad at those games."

He smiles, "And um... I don't know what else there is, haha~" He puts an arm behind his head, laughing it off.

"Don't worry about it." You say, laughing with him.

The server soon comes with the food, as the two of you dine in, conversing in conversations and having good laughs. He was doing a good job avoiding the subject of Totoko because he remembers these tips:

Smile when it's appropriate

Start conversations

And... listen to what she has to say, and don't question her too much.

__

"Man I'm stuffed!" Osomatsu says, stretching.

"Same." You whine, walking out of the restaurant.

"Their food was top notch, would go there again if I had money again." His remark caused you to laugh.

"Where'd you get the money anyway?"

Osomatsu freezes up, "You..."

"Eh? Me? I thought you used it for the suit!"

"No, no, my dad came with me and bought me a suit to dress more appropriately." He says, rubbing his finger under his nose.

"Ahh, okay." It made more sense how a high-quality suit was bought more than 10,000 yen.

"Let's go, I wanna show you something," Osomatsu says, taking your hand into his. His hands were no longer clammy, it was soft. You were glad that he listened to you.

The two of you walked, hand in hand, listening to the crisp air as you walked down the sidewalk. The atmosphere wasn't awkward, so Osomatsu didn't bring up any conversations.

The two of you stopped at the park before he invites you to sit down on the bench with him. You smile before sitting down close to him, his hand still in yours.

"Woah, the stars look so pretty tonight." You say, looking up. Osomatsu looks up at you before gulping, a blush on his cheeks. His hands begin to grow sweaty as he holds yours a bit tighter.

You turn to him with a smile on your face, making him blush. "Thank you so much for taking me out today, Oso. I really appreciated it." You giggle, caushing him to struggle to find his words.

You looked so pretty in the moonlight.

Your smile.

Your eyes.

Your personality.

You were beautiful.

He gulps.

Confess when you feel it in your gut and she has your attention

"(Y/n)-chan," he calls, putting his free hand on top of the hand that was holding his other hand. "I need to tell you something."

"Yes, Oso?"

He feels his heart hammer out of his chest before he sucks in a breath, "I... I really like you! Please go out on a date with me again!" He shuts his eyes and places his forehead on your folded hands, bowing.

"I know I asked you for help about Totoko-chan, but I realized..." He raises his head, nervous tears in his eyes, "That I like you! Not Totoko-chan." He halts, "Please!"

Your eyes were wide as you stare at Osomatsu with your lips agape. You struggled to find words. But the only thing that comes in your mind repeatedly.

'Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy, shit--'

You feel his hands grow loose on yours, realizing that you were frozen up for took long. You quickly grab his hands again before making him face you, "Of course! Osomatsu! I'd love to date you!" You yell in his face, releasing all your built-up feelings for him, not knowing how to fully express it.

The next second, you feel yourself being lifted in the air, Osomatsu's arms on your waist and spins you around, him crying out in happiness. He drops you gently on the ground before he pulls you into a hug, and kisses your temple before screaming out, "Thank you so much Akatsuka-sensei!!!"

[bigskydreaming]

So this is definitely one of my least favorite things to do, because there’s so many people on here that need help, but if anyone has a couple bucks or a five they can spare, that would be an enormous help to me today. 

For those that know my situation, as far as I know, everything is still on track for me to have the lets-pull-all-twenty-eight - of-your-remaining-teeth-at-once-it’ll-be-fun! surgery on Tuesday. I’m reeeeally looking forward to it, and also the Month of Living Without Any Teeth At All while I heal and they figure out the fittings and everything for my bionic teeth or whatever. Everything about it sounds swell. Can’t wait, it’ll be great.

SO. The plan is for me to take the bus out to the desert on Monday afternoon, reenact some of the best scenes from Saw on Tuesday morning while under hopefully heavy sedation, with fingers and toes crossed that these doctors actually listen to me for once about my ridiculous metabolism making most anesthetics wear off super fast. Because. Ugh. Doctors literally never believe me about that which has led to some pretty not cool experiences in the past, but none of those experiences have been yanking out every one of my teeth by the root all in one go, soooooooo, if ever there was a time for them to think maybe I actually know what I’m talking about and make adjustments for that, I’m pretty sure I want this to be that time. 

Thanks to my keen intuition, I have predicted that this whole process is something I probably want to be deeply unconscious for, and during, and tbh, maybe a week or so after that too. But like, I’ll mostly settle for just not waking up when they’re only actually on tooth eight, you know?

If I seem like I’m babbling cuz I’m nervous, its probably cuz I’m babbling cuz I’m nervous. I’m so not kidding about unpleasant experiences with anesthetics in the past, so while this wasn’t actually my reason for making this post, while I’m thinking about it, if anyone wants to also maybe shoot a quick prayer-tweet over to whomever you might personally @ with that kind of thing, I would be super grateful for anything of that nature, like something along the lines of “Dear Merciful Higher Power/Universe/etc, if there’s any way you could see to it that Kalen spends most of Tuesday knocked the fuck out, that would be awesome, thanks!”

Its just, I’m kinda over being in excruciating pain all day every day, like, I gave it a shot, just don’t think its for me, I’m afraid I just don’t have what it takes to be a hardcore raging masochist or whatever, so I’m just really not looking to set any new personal pain records next week if at all possible.

ANYWAY, requests for spamming higher powers on my behalf aside, the other reason for this post is I only have $3 in my bank account and an appointment this afternoon whose co-pay is going to be $50. But I can NOT miss this appointment, its super critical. See, so, the other thing is, my jaw has decided its reached the point where it just doesn’t want to close at all anymore, so I’ve gone from only eating once a day to only eating no times a day, and since I’ve already lost an absurd amount of weight and muscle mass over the last two years because of all this shit, they’ve put me on a regimen of regular IV intakes or whatever that’s called, just to like....get the nutrients I need into me somehow, y’know?  

And especially with the surgery coming up on Tuesday, and my immune system all shot to hell and my various other Vitally Important By-Products of Eating Food levels are low enough to have my doctor using mostly just four letter words when reviewing my latest labs, they’re literally trying to pump me full of as much of the various Nutrients And Other Stuff IVs as they safely can between now and then. And as much as I’ve been pretty much going 24/7 trying to stay afloat with all of this, I just...did NOT budget for needing to be hooked up to an IV every other day because my fucking jaw picked now to level up on being an asshole and like, physically will not cooperate with my attempts to survive on cheap $5 a day meals. 

So instead this week its been $50 co-pays every other day, because apparently when your body for whatever reason literally can’t take in the cheap 7-11 snacks and Happy Meals you usually live off of because That’s How Being Poor Works, it makes total sense that the one and only alternative for keeping your body fueled is to go to this little clinic place that hooks you up like you’re at a gas station, except you’re some kinda pretentious European model that won’t accept any less than the top dollar diesel, because I guess even Bags of Nutrient Water gotta somehow manage to be name brand shit, because yay capitalism. Everything about it is just so efficient and logical and works so well, especially if you’re part of the 99%.

Anyway I’m TRULY sorry I’m all over the place with this, I haven’t taken my ADHD meds because swallowing is the Devil’s Work right now, and also I haven’t had my daily Bag of Nutrient Water yet so my brain is like no I will not be cooperating. To sum up, once I get to next week I’m all set, everything’s in place for the surgery, insurance, I have a place to recuperate, I even already have my bus ticket for Monday purchased, my specific monetary issue right now is I am literally down to my last $3, I am currently physically unable to chew my way through a full meal, so I’m literally just paying co-pays of $50 every other day to spend 45 minutes sitting in a chair while my body sucks life-sustaining nutrient water through a needle. 

That might actually be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said or heard said and yet its factually 100% true. Our world is so fucking bonkers, jfc.

Literally ANY help getting me to today’s appointment, would be amazing, and then I have one scheduled for Monday morning before I leave, if I can find a way to make that too. And tbh I don’t actually know if one is even an option for tomorrow yet because the clinic I’ve been going to so far isn’t open tomorrow and I’ve yet to hear back if my doctor found somewhere else to send me that I can actually get to. So who the fuck even knows.

So yeah, sorry for making you ping-pong your way through that mess, this is my brain on Empty, like I said, I haven’t had my Bag of Water yet today. But any help is appreciated, whether reblogs, donations or good-thought-tweets for me on Tuesday. I’m a big fan of any of the above. Even $2 or $5 gets me closer to what I need, and if you can’t spare anything or have already sent or are sending what you can spare to another donation post, I totally and completely understand. And again, even just....good thoughts for Tuesday would be awesome, and certainly can’t hurt. I’m not like, worried about the surgery or whatever, its pretty simple, its more just....extensive. And my only real hope or want for it is just keeping the Ow factor as limited as it can possibly be. Whether that’s from the doctors coming through with a good strong hit of the goofy juice or some higher power telling all my nerve endings to take a sick day or just sit this one out, I am so open to either or anything in between or even coming out of left field.

And now I’m done. Thank you. You’re all rockstars, or insert your genre of choice. In conclusion, capitalism sucks, eat the rich, and buy a  bi a bag of water today please. I’m pretty sure there’s a T-shirt slogan in there somewhere, but fuck if I can pin it down.If anyone else does, hey, go nuts with it. I’m literally a bi guy who needs to buy bags of nutrient water every other day right now. That’s so fucking dumb, someone’s gotta be able to milk some mileage out of it.

My Paypal:

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

Or if that link doesn’t work, try this one instead:

https://www.paypal.com/paypalme2/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

My Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/kalenp

[sodone-withlife]

glass is fragile

Criminal Minds Fic Part One

| PART 1 | PART 2 |

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: implied character death 

Notes: cross-posted on Ao3. this is the result of a random idea I had because while I love Hotchniss, I love the idea of the two meeting in college and keeping in contact with Hotch being an overprotective brother

fortuna vitrea est; tum cum splendet frangitur (fortune is glass; just when it gleams brightest it shatters) - Publilius Syrus

“Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch looked up and did a double-take. “Emily?” he stood up, sending a surprised look at the smiling woman carrying a file box standing in front of his desk. He walked around his desk and closed his office door before giving her a half hug. “It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Emily let out a brief laugh, placing the box down on one of the chairs. “Last we talked was what, two years ago?”

“Must have been,” Hotch walked back around the desk and sat down, gesturing for Emily to do the same. “How’ve you been doing?”

Her expression dimmed a bit, shadows encroaching on the brightness of their reunion. “Well, he is still locked away, so it’s old history,” she shrugged. “Joined the bureau about a year ago, and I’ve been stuck in a desk job over at White Collar.”

Hotch held her gaze, knowing what was going unsaid, then nodded and changed the subject. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what’s brought you here? Last I heard you were doing pretty well over in the DC office.”

Emily’s expression gave way to confusion as she sat up straight. “I’m transferring to your team,” she said slowly.

Hotch paused. “I didn’t receive any paperwork nor did I authorize any transfer,” he told her awkwardly.

She reached into the box and pulled out a file, giving it to him. “I’m not sure what to tell you,” she said and indicated the file, “but that’s what I have.” Hotch flipped through, lips compressed in thought.

“I’m going to have to look into this,” he looked up at her seriously and forestalled any protests with a placating hand. “There’s no doubt that you’re qualified to join this team. However, normally, all applications for this unit go directly to me, and your transfer happens to come just as there have been some inquiries regarding this unit.”

A look of mutual understanding passed between them, their experience with bureaucratic and office politics filling in all the blanks. “Well,” Hotch broke that silence that had fallen and stood up, “you’ve luckily caught us when we’re on stand down, so I’ll introduce you to the team and you can get set up.”

Emily nodded and stood up as he picked up the box for her, both slightly put off-balance in the new boss-employee dynamic between them after they had worked together on equal footing for a few years. Hotch nudged her arm, stopping her just before they walked out of the office.

When she looked up at him, a small but genuine smile had broken through the darker affect he had gained since the last time they had seen each other.

“It really is good to see you again.”

~~~

“Any idea why Sean, just out of the blue, asked to meet with us?”

Emily shook her head. “No idea,” she answered, looking at the suited man in the driver’s seat of the black Mercedes. “It’s been six years since I last talked to him. You?”

“Same as you, about six,” Hotch replied. “I remained in contact with him for a bit after I returned to the BAU, but our exchanges were usually brief.”

The two lapsed into an easy silence until Hotch pulled up in front of a jazz bar. They got out of the car and easily fell into an old rhythm developed over twenty years ago in New Haven, one that they often took advantage of during cases because of its apparently intimate nature.

“Emily Prentiss,” a burly Scottish man stood up from a booth towards the back of the bar and opened his arms invitingly. “Aaron Hotchner.”

Emily let out a delighted laugh and went in for the hug while a Hotch lagged behind with a faint smile.

“Sean,” Hotch sent the man a nod of greeting and shook his hand, “how are you?”

“Good,” Sean answered, gesturing towards the booth and sitting down.

“Sorry we weren’t able to get back to you sooner,” Emily said, scooting inward to make room for Hotch. “We got caught up chasing a spree killer couple out to the Pacific Northwest.”

“I had to be in DC anyway,” Sean responded. The delight the two FBI agents felt at seeing the man quickly faded and made way for feelings of foreboding when Sean’s demeanor and tone turned serious and almost fearful. He took a breath. “Ian Doyle vanished from prison, and Interpol can’t find him.”

His insides turning cold, Hotch immediately looked at Emily, who had gone pale. “What—” she swallowed, “what are you saying?”

Sean leaned in, a grim look in his eyes as he looked between the two. “He’s off the grid,” he said gravely.

“Do you think he’s headed here?” Hotch asked quietly, thoughts straying towards Emily and his son. Sean’s gaze only turned grimmer as he didn’t answer.

Emily’s shaky voice broke the tense silence—only interrupted by the ambiance of the bar—that had fallen. “Am I in danger?”

The Scotsman looked down, taking a moment to gather himself before looking back up, a chilling answer on his lips.

“We all are.”

~~~

“He sent freesias to your apartment?”

“No, don’t tell me, not even over this line. I’m going on a run tomorrow morning around National Mall and planning to eat at Dupont Circle afterward. I’ll send you the address if you’d like to join me?”

“Yeah, the moment I got home after Sean told us I checked and reset everything, did my rounds. You know how I can be, especially after… yeah.”

“If I didn’t know better I’d say I might be the least at risk, given that I was only involved half the time you guys were. But you are in significantly more danger than any of us.”

“Leave worrying about what I have to lose to me. You—for once in your life, just think about yourself and be careful.”

~~~

“You’ve got to get out of there.”

Hotch approached Emily out in the hallway, picking out fear from the urgency in her tone. “Get a flight. Leave France, get back to America,” she continued, unable to fully hide her fearful worry as she met his gaze with her own. “Cash transactions from here on out, am I clear?”

He watched as Emily listened to the other caller, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Toss that cell phone and get home safely,” she finally said firmly, hanging up without waiting for a response.

“Who?” Hotch asked simply, having suspicions as to what this was about. Emily turned to glance through the window, seeing Reid watching the two carefully—Hotch followed her gaze just in time to catch Reid quickly looking back down.

He shook his head, looking back at Emily. “My office, as soon as we can.”

~~~

Hotch opened the next report in his stack and quickly flipped through only to see a ripped sheet of paper in between a crime scene photo and the autopsy report. Recognizing the handwriting, he pulled it out, only to freeze when he read the note.

I received a text last night. He’s in the country.

He ripped up the paper as he looked out into the bullpen, eyes landing on Emily, who was hunched over at her desk looking through a report. He took in a stabilizing breath as he felt yet another headache coming on in addition to the ever-present worry over his son’s safety, despite all the precautions he had put in place all those weeks ago in a fit of med-noncompliance-induced obsessive anxiety.

Digging out a sticky note from under the piles of paperwork on his desk and quickly writing a note, Hotch grabbed a fresh stack of papers and went out to distribute them. He surreptitiously slipped the sticky note onto Emily’s desk before moving onto the others and heading back into his office, closing the door behind him.

His personal phone buzzed.

>>T and C here in 48. 1300 rendezvous over phone (S): I’ll go out, you stay in the building

Hotch looked back into the bullpen at Emily, who was putting her phone away. He looked back at his phone and began to enter in a number when his gaze drifted over to the two pictures of Jack he kept on his desk. He sighed and deleted the number he just inputted, completing yet another round of the indecisive compulsion that started ever since that meeting in the jazz bar.

~~~

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Tsia’s voice came over the phone and faintly from a few meters away. “After what happened to Jeremy, I was afraid.”

Emily sighed, shifting the newspaper in her lap. “Tsia, I’m sorry you can’t be at his funeral. It’s today, isn’t it?”

“Well, that’s the problem with marrying a member from your own team,” the other woman responded resignedly. “One of you is a target, so is the other. I get it.”

“Hello, darling,” a new voice came over the call—Emily couldn’t help but mentally sigh at the nickname from Clyde.

“Alright,” Hotch interjected. “Emily and I took a late lunch, and I’m currently reviewing a potential field case, so let’s make this quick.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Clyde asked rhetorically. “I’m not quick about anything.”

Emily rolled her eyes in exasperation and faint amusement, practically able to feel Hotch’s glare over the phone. “I don’t know,” she drawled. “What about that time I blew my cover in Prague? You took out that sentry before I could even draw my weapon. You saved my ass, Clyde.”

“I’m surprised you remember the little people from your Interpol days, now that you’re a posh FBI profiler,” Clyde shot back.

Hotch pointedly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “What’s being done to locate Doyle?”

“Only every agency in the northern hemisphere is looking for him.”

“What are we doing to find him?” Emily emphasized.

“My contact at DCRI tracked one of Doyle’s aliases leaving France the day after Jeremy’s murder,” Tsia reported. “He took a commercial flight to Beijing, then doubled back on a train bound for Berlin.”

“But when GSG 9 intercepted it, he was already gone,” Clyde finished.

“He sent me flowers, so I think it’s safe to assume he’s coming here,” Emily wryly added.

“Why is he doing this?” Tsia asked.

“Why do you think?” Hotch threw back. “We put him away. Hold on—” he cut himself off just as Emily’s other phone beeped.

“Duty calls?” Emily didn’t answer, feeling Clyde’s eyes on her back. “I know what you’re thinking—absolutely not,” he said firmly. “Your team isn’t under oath—”

“They could help,” she interrupted.

“How?” Tsia questioned. “We don’t even know where Doyle is. Involving them at this point would be premature.”

“Hotch?”

“Emily,” Hotch started quietly. “They’re highly capable, yes, but they don’t have clearance, and I rather doubt Strauss would be willing to help plead our case.”

“It would also be highly reckless,” Clyde interjected. “Leave it to Tsia and I, and you two stay with your team.”

“Even in hiding Doyle can’t resist extravagance,” Emily suggested, relenting to the others. “Track the money.”

“I will find him, darling. Trust me.”

Hotch scoffed at the plea request over the phone. “I don’t trust anyone, anymore,” Emily threw back, her tone conveying how both she and Hotch feel about that appeal.

~~~

>>T and C tracked V to DC. Chuck Murray.

<<Isn’t that the name of V’s dog?

>> Yep.

>>I’m playing fish food tonight. Alone.

<<Are you sure?

>>Like you said: you’re in as much danger as the rest of us are. I also happen to be his main target and he’ll kill anyone in his way. You happen to have the most to lose, and you can bet that he’s already got eyes on you.

<<Don’t worry about me, I’ve gotten that handled quite a bit ago. Location.

>>Seriously?

<<I trust you. I just want to know where to start if you don’t show up tomorrow morning.

>>Fine. Hirshhorn Museum.

<<Don’t do anything stupid.

>>Awwww, is that emotion I detect from no-smile Iceman?

<<I can neither confirm nor deny.

<<Be careful, Blackbird.

~~~

“Ian Doyle is here in DC.”

“How can you be so sure?” Clyde asked skeptically.

“I sat next to him last night,” Emily deadpanned. “He said if I warned my team or told anyone, he’d kill them.”

“Does Aaron know about this?” Tsia was incredulous. Clyde snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Of course he does, he’s the protective big brother. Why didn’t Doyle kill you, and more to the point, why didn’t you kill him?”

“He’s not working alone,” Emily answered, staring at Clyde.

Tsia tried to reassure her. “Then he’s just playing with you—”

“No, no,” Clyde interrupted, disagreeing, “he’s a power-assertive psychopath. He doesn’t play games.”

“He’s meticulous, he plans everything down to the last detail—” Emily was cut off by a voice coming from her phone.

“Yeah, that last detail being you.”

“Finally decided to join us, Aaron?” Tsia turned to Emily. “Maybe you should tell your team,” she suggested.

“No, no way,” Emily shut it down. “This isn’t their fight.”

“Emily,” Hotch said over the phone. “He’s in DC, and he’s working with others. There is a high chance that the team is going to get pulled into something, you know that.”

“But—”

“I’m not saying we tell them now, but if the team does get pulled into this, we are going to have to tell them. You need to be prepared for that.”

Emily scoffed. “Are you?”

“We stay together, we can get him,” Tsia insisted.

“We already tried,” Emily retorted. “And look where that got us.”

“Wait, wait,” Clyde broke in, looking at her imploringly. “When you went undercover, I promised no one would harm you.”

“I’m not undercover anymore.”

“DC isn’t his comfort zone, it’s ours,” Hotch’s voice was firm. “This ends here.”

~~~

“Reid, you got anything?” Morgan asked, walking up behind the genius.

“The damage is pretty extensive, but luckily some of the tattoo remains,” Reid commented, focusing largely on the sketch.

“Seaver,” Hotch turned to the probationary agent, “get the victim’s photo out to the press.”

“I think I know who dug the hole.” Garcia’s voice rang out from behind them as she approached the group with a notebook in hand. The others turned. “The journo told me to follow the money, like straight up, that’s what he told me, so I did.” She moved to face the others. “It turns out ‘The Gazette’ is owned by a multinational global conglomerate—oil, new technologies, shipping, air and ground transportation—all of which employ the services of one company,” the analyst looked up from her notebook, “CWS.”

“Clearwater Securities?” Hotch asked, hiding the foreboding feelings starting to creep upon him.

Rossi looked at him in surprise. “You know them?”

“I’ve come across them,” Hotch confirmed, not looking at Emily. “They’re a private counterintelligence group out of Geneva.”

“Ron Cosenza, Byron Delaney, Kerry Fagan all worked for CWS,” Garcia told them.

“How long ago?” Emily asked.

“Seven years.”

“Seaver, hang up,” Hotch said, hiding the days-old conflict going strong in his head as she did as ordered.

Still looking towards Hotch, Rossi asked, “Do we have a problem?”

“No, CWS does.”

“Got it,” Reid leaned back in his chair, showing everyone the sketched reconstruction of the tattoo. Hotch froze, mind overlaying an old memory over the familiar design, and glanced at Emily, who had also gone pale. They made eye contact, and Hotch nodded to her unasked question.

As she slipped out of the bullpen, he turned to the others. “SCIF,” he ordered, bringing out his phone and scrolling through his contacts.

~~~

>>Are we…?

<<If V doesn’t already, he will know soon. There’s no reason not to tell them.

>>But like you said, they don’t have clearance.

<<Discuss this after the corporate roadblocks, see what the team needs to know and what they can know.

~~~

“Exactly why did you bring us here?” a portly man asked as the team walked into the SCIF. “And why is the BAU interested in CWS?”

Hotch handed the men at the end of the table a few folders as Morgan threw the first question. “Why did you pull that story?”

The men gave him a critical look before flipping open the folders to see pictures of the victims and crime scenes.

“That’s how you remember them,” Hotch indicated the headshots, then the crime scene photos. “And that is how they are now.”

“You warned your friend, Byron Delaney,” Morgan stated. “You knew him the longest. It’s too bad you were too late.”

The man looked back impassionately. “If you’re looking for reactions, this is our business.”

“Business?” Rossi questioned the wording.

“Ugly as that sounds,” the man amended diplomatically.

“Kerry Fagan, Ron Cosenza, and Byron Delaney, they all worked for CWS,” Morgan pointed out.

“As do forty thousand other subcontractors do all over the world.”

“So they were subcontracted to you.”

“If you’re looking for answers, take it up with the main contractor,” the man avoided the question.

“And that would be… ?” Rossi asked.

“Your government.”

“Whoever is killing these families holds your company responsible, not the government,” Hotch informed them shortly.

“We run operations from the Middle east to Antarctica,” the man said, “going over them all will take months.”

“So you’ve already started investigations?” The man didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes.

“That’s why you pulled the story,” Rossi concluded.

One of the others leaned in, whispering something in the man’s ear. He nodded and turned to the team. “The cases these people were involved in are protected by a multinational official secrets agreement. Even if I wanted to I—”

“These people were killed on US soil,” Morgan interrupted,” by trained suspects who fired on federal agents.”

“As a courtesy,” Hotch said when there was no response, “and out of respect for the predicament your company now faces, everything in this room is off the record. However, outside this room, if you withhold information about the case, you and your company will be held fully accountable.”

The men shifted, uncomfortable, when the spokesperson finally relented. “Alright, what do you know?”

“We’re looking for a European team with considerable training,” Hotch chose his words carefully. “And for one of them, it’s personal.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because they could have spared the child, but they chose not to,” Morgan said.

“The killing of Samuel Cosenza by one of the team was personal,” Hotch agreed.

“One of the attacks shot last night had the remains of a tattoo on his wrist,” Rossi informed them as Hotch passed over another folder.

“On the surface the tattoo may look like a simple four-leaf clover,” Morgan described, “but the stem has a ‘V’ at the end. We believe this is associated with a hidden sect of fallen warriors. It’s also the name of a ship famous for its journeys from Dublin to America, the ‘Valhalla.’”

Rossi eyed the looks on the men’s faces. “Have you seen that before?” he asked.

“We ran an operation to capture the leader of a breakaway IRA faction years ago,” the man said. “He assumed that moniker.”

“What’s his name?” Hotch asked, already knowing the answer. The man was silent for a moment.

“Ian Doyle.”

~~~

“Okay, Ian Doyle’s officially on everyone’s list,” Garcia said, eyes skimming over her computer screen. “His mug is all over the place. He’s not going to be able to get out of the district unless he sprouts wings himself.”

“It’s not that I’m not happy that we have his name,” Seaver interjected, “but how are we supposed to know who’s on his list?”

“We study his life and every single person he’s ever come in contact with,” Morgan answered.

“Look, Doyle’s been away for seven years,” Emily said as Hotch and Rossi entered the room. “But he still managed to figure out who the players were, maybe we should start with how he got out of prison,” she suggested.

“Well, where was he locked up?” Morgan asked.

“Russia, I think.”

“Actually, there are no extradition papers on him,” Seaver informed them.

“Was Doyle on your radar when you were at Interpol?” Hotch’s gaze locked onto Emily’s, putting the ball that had been passed between them over the past week in her court.

“Uh, sure, I had heard of him, but direct contact?” she shook her head. “I’d have to ask around.”

“You do that, I’ll see who I can get from my end,” Hotch said to the others’ surprise as she nodded and walked out. “Not now,” he said to the team, sensing their questions and pulling out his phone.

“Good guys and bad keep files close to them,” Rossi brought their focus back.

“What are in these files?” Garcia asked.

“It’s intel. Insurance. Protection, for times like this,” he explained.

“Maybe I should go to Byron Delaney’s house and see what I can find,” Morgan suggested.

Hotch looked up from his texting at him. “Take Prentiss with you, she might have some insight.”

~~~

“The more players we get on this board, the sooner Erin will get her nose into it,” Rossi remarked.

Hotch didn’t look away from the photos they had pinned on the board. “Strauss already knows,” he said absentmindedly.

“I’m surprised she wasn’t in the SCIF,” Rossi said, surprised.

Hotch finally glanced at him. “She’s on vacation.”

“Oh, great. Now she’ll never take another one,” Rossi quipped. “You know people in Interpol?” he asked.

“Taskforce, joined late 2001 and returned half a year after Morgan joined the team. Did a bit of everything,” Hotch gave him a sardonic look. “Apparently, being a former prosecutor, former tactical agent, and now a profiler was highly desirable.”

Rossi snorted, momentarily giving away to amusement before sobering up. “Is everything about this guy classified?” he asked, staring at the messy case.

“Somebody knows him,” Hotch said. “We just haven’t found them yet.”

~~~

“Here’s the million-dollar question,” Garcia said, pulling up a close up of a foreign road sign. “Anyone know what language that is?”

“Those are villages in North Korea,” Prentiss said warily.

Garcia tilted her head. “I love you. Of course she does.”

“There’s a political prison near Haengyong-ni,” Prentiss continued.

“Camp 22, kwan-li-so,” Hotch said in recognition. “North Korea denies it exists.”

The others stared at him incredulously. “How—?” Morgan began.

“Two years,” Hotch explained shortly. “Met Emily a few times, heard Doyle’s name being tossed around. You think they took Doyle there?” he looked at the woman.

“That would explain why he’s after them,” Seaver suggested.

“Even his prison is off the grid,” Garcia threw in.

“All we know is that he was never married, had multiple residences, and was arrested at his Tuscan villa,” Seaver continued.

“There’s paperwork to back that up?” Emily asked.

“Ans a list of who was there that day,” Seaver confirmed, nodding. “There may be photographs, Reid’s looking into that now.”

“Right, so those people need to be warned that he’s on the warpath,” Hotch noted Emily’s deliberate calm belied by a nervous swallow.

“They have been,” Seaver said. “But here’s a whole different life he’s led, one that isn’t in any file.”

“Prentiss, did you hear from your European associates?” Hotch asked, checking if she had anything, himself having not gotten anything from them as of yet.

“I’m waiting for them to send me a document.”

“We need it now.” call them, now. How did he get to North Korea?

~~~

>>Told T to get out. C isn’t telling us everything.

<<And you trust me and T?

>>Known you since what, ‘89? And we’ve seen each other on the daily for the past five years now, Iceman.

>>Honestly, I don’t know about T or C, no idea what they’ve been up to.

<<Corelli’s?

<<If you want to keep hiding this you need to be more discreet, overheard you walking to my office.

<<Tell me later.

~~~

“What’s holding us up?” Rossi asked.

“We’re waiting for somebody from DC Metro Police,” Hotch said. “Then we can start.”

“Who’s got updates on roadblocks?”

“They will. All parkways and interstates in DC, Maryland, and Virginia have station checkpoints.”

“Doyle has the means to get in and out of the country,” Emily pointed out. “What makes you think he won’t get out of the District?”

Hotch blew out a breath, glancing at Emily and then at the numerous agency reps standing around in the bullpen. “It’s the best we’ve got right now.”

The door opened to reveal Morgan on the other side. “Metro got held up. Double homicide on K and 9th,” he reported. “They want me to take a look.”

An icy feeling trickled down Hotch’s spine when he realized what the location was. “Doyle?” he asked, not looking at Emily.

“Vic’s apartment looks like a black market forger,” Morgan said.

“The other victim?” Emily asked.

“A woman, thirties, no ID, outside his door.”

“I’m coming with you,” her tone brooked no argument.

“Go,” Hotch urged the two, who left as he picked up the landline.

~~~

“It’s not often that we know a subject’s name, and in this case, knowing Ian Doyle’s identity doesn’t give us very much,” Hotch said, standing in front of a room full of members of numerous letter agencies. “He’s known to a select few, and those who know him well either work beside him or they’re on his list.”

“Two or three of his victims worked for CWS and were responsible for his transport to North Korea,” he said, noting Emily and Morgan’s return to the office. “There were seven opeartives on the mission altogether, and the remaining five have been warned. All the federal and international agents responsible for tracking him down are now on his list of targets.”

“We’ll find Doyle the way we find any other offender—by studying his behavior. We’ll dissect his every move since he regained his freedom. When he escaped from North Korea, he killed a man and he used his vehicle to cross the border into Russia…”

[letterstoseven]

Impossibilities to Possibilities

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, sugardaddy!au

⇢ summary: some say that first love never dies but it hunts you.

----------------//-----------------

You were running late for your interview. The interview was supposed to be at 9:00AM but it’s already 9:30AM and you’re still at the bus only two blocks away from the company building. When the results came in, you were actually surprised that this company scheduled you for an interview. This company is known in the entertainment industry and they’ve been looking for young individuals who have passion, talent, and brains. It was your friend, Jaebeom, who saw their job posting on their social media accounts.

“I think you should try applying for this job. I mean, you’re really good at styling people. I mean, weren’t you always the best dressed at every party? And even the girls at uni gets jealous at you because you totally rock every style. I remember this one time you were wearing a unique top but everyone loved that and the following week, they have those tops already!” Jaebeom persuaded you. It was a little over-dramatic but you started thinking what if this is your break? I mean, it’s summer break at your uni and you’re looking for a summer job.

“But Jae, this company is super picky! They’re just hiring the best of the best. Although the majority of the people who work in this company are young ones who are really really great people.” You said that to him while looking at the website and portfolios of those who work in this company. “There’s no harm in trying, y/n.” He winked at you and proceeded to scroll his feed again. While your eyes were glued at the website, you wonder who’s the person behind this company. You wonder if he has the mind-reading skills or whatsoever magic trick that he’s had the great people under his belt.

And here you are, 9:45AM at the reception of the company. You got off the bus and ran to the company as fast as possible. Fortunately, the lady at the reception was nice and told you to wait for a while. You thanked the gods for letting you off the hook this time. While you were reviewing your portfolio, the receptionist called you, “Miss y/n? Mr. Park is waiting for you in his office. Please go to the 11th floor and turn left, you’ll see his secretary. She’ll let you know more about your interview.” She smiled at you and you smiled back.

While you were walking towards the elevator, you see the interior of the building. It was minimal yet elegant. Something you really want. It made you want to work here. The employees you’ve come across to were nice and made you feel to work here more. By the time the elevator arrived on the designated floor, you were surprised that you were the only one who was called by Mr. Park. You asked the secretary, “Hi, is this Mr. Park’s office? I’m y/n. The receptionist told me to go here.” You hand your curriculum vitae to the secretary, “Is the person who’s going to interview me is the boss?” You whispered to her. She chuckled, “Yes, Miss y/n. It was rare for him to interview the applicants himself. He must be impressed by your application. You may now come in.”

You being nervous is an understatement –– his secretary told you that it was rare for him to conduct an interview himself. When the secretary opened the door, you were shocked at how beautiful and sophisticated his office is. The design, the displays, and the name –– you stopped your tracks by looking at his name.

No way. You uttered, “Mr. Park Jinyoung?”

He turned his back and looked at you, “Hello, y/n. It was nice to see you again.”

“You?!” You dropped your portfolio and picked it up but boy, he was fast. He’s now in front of you, “Yes, it’s me. I had a hard time looking for you, love.” He smirked at you. “Why were you looking for me? We were done. We broke one of the clauses.”

“But you didn’t have to run off like that...” He stared at you and continued, “I got scared of what happened to you. After 6 months of looking for you, I stopped. Then the next week, I was looking at the portfolios sent by the applicants and I saw my photo but side-view. I knew it was me because you let me saw that photo, you were so proud of the result of your styling to me.” He looked at you while reminiscing the past, “Then I saw your resume, you’ve changed your phone number, you moved out of your apartment and you changed the color of your hair.”

This time, it was your turn to stare at him, “Jinyoung... it was what we’re supposed to be. You gave me what I need, the money, the luxury, my tuition, and in return, I give you my company.” His eyes were betraying him. You continued, “But then, I have to admit, I was falling for you day by day. You are a gentleman and a handsome young man. I’m scared that if we go on, we might not just break the clauses in the contract but also our hearts.” You hugged your portfolio.

He turned around and faced you again, hands on his waist, you can see he is frustrated, “You only have the say in this? You’re the only one who decided to leave me and break off! God damn, y/n! I confessed to you after we kissed that night!” It is now your turn to cry, “Jinyoung, I am not that girl for you. You’re handsome, bright, gentleman and more! I’m just a normal girl who drunkenly said yes to a dare to look for a sugar daddy who’s at my age in the club! We didn’t know it’d go far like this, you know that. And please, I’m here for the job and not for you.” Jinyoung, being frustrated, ruffled his hands on his hair and said, “Okay.” And you said, “Okay.”

There was a moment of silence and then, Jinyoung started looking at your resume, “I see that you’ve become a dean’s lister during last year’s semester, but the following semester, you were off the list. Why’s that?” You know that he knows why. He just wanted to come out of your mouth. You answered, “I had personal problems during that time.” Jinyoung looked at you, “If that’s the case, why are we going to hire someone who doesn’t know when to separate personal and work matters?” For the first time since meeting him today, you were surprised at how he can immediately shift his mood, “You know what happened and—” you got cut-off by him, “I’m talking to you as the CEO of the company not as your sugar daddy, y/n.” You got quiet and simply answered, “I’ve grown and learned from my mistakes. I learned not to let my emotions rule over me. At this point of my life, I’ve had many decisions that I did not like. In reference to my class standing, I’ve had to make sacrifices for the betterment of myself. Isn’t that what the company needs? Someone who’s up for commitment, even though there’s a lot to sacrifice.” He was internally shocked at your answer, he knew you could do well. “Ever since I’ve known you, I always know you could do well at everything you do.” You blushed at his comment. “Thank you, Mr. Park.” It wasn’t long until he told you that his secretary will just contact you if you’re hired or not.

When you got back on your apartment, you messaged Jaebeom.

y/n: you won’t believe what I’ll say!

jaebeom: what?

y/n: Jinyoung was the CEO of the company I’ve applied to!!!

jaebeom: Jinyoung? As in the guy whom you had a relationship as sugar daddy?

y/n: YES

jaebeom: it seems like you’re in for a ride ;)

You groaned at his response. You can’t say that you weren't that glad to see him but you’re ashamed of yourself. Your phone dinged and a message from an unknown number.

unknown: hey, y/n. it’s me, Jinyoung. would you like to have dinner or anything, or in a coffee shop?

y/n: wow, using your power as a CEO to get my number, I see.

jinyoung: please? i really missed you...

y/n: okay, you know where. same place, 7pm.

jinyoung: sounds like a plan, i’ll see you then.

As the night’s about to approach, you inhaled deeply and asked yourself, are you ready to see him again? I mean, if you’ll get accepted, there’s a hundred percent chance you’ll see him everyday. The next thing you knew is that you’re in front of your go-to restaurant. Jinyoung knew about this because whenever he asks you where you are, you’re here.m

You were looking for Jinyoung, and when you see him, you can see that he’s on his phone. He sees you too, “I’ll call you back tomorrow. Bring the files to me first thing in the morning. Okay, thanks.” He hung up the call and said to you, “Hi, you came.” Your lips curved into smile and seated in front of him, “Yes? What’s this dinner for?” Jinyoung chuckled, “Typical, y/n. Asking the necessary first before indulging.”

Both of you were tip-toeing in the conversation. Both of you were just saying only the tip of the iceberg and both of you knows it. When the bill came, you were about to pay but Jinyoung interrupted you, “No, y/n. I’ll pay. I was the one who called you anyways.”

When both of you got out of the restaurant, you said your thanks to him, “It was nice seeing you. I’m sorry about the attitude at your office awhile ago. I got shocked and all.” He smiled wryly, “It’s understandable. I mean, I won’t invalidate your feelings. Or if there’s any left.” he continued, “How are you gonna go home? Do you still have the car I gave you?” You choked, “Very nice of you but I returned it to your driver. You might have not seen it yet since you have what, hundreds of cars?” He’s more shocked that you contacted his driver instead of him, “Oh, so you do have my driver’s number? How? Anyway, don’t answer that. Come on, I’ll take you home. It’s dangerous at night, and you know that.”

The heavens must have been in favor of Jinyoung. When you got inside the car, it started to rain hard. “Oh my god. My place is kind of far away from here. It’s a 2-hour drive. I am so so sorry for this, Jinyoung. You could drop me off at the nearest bus stop.” He looked at you and said, “My place is near here. You could stay there until the rain stops.” You can see him ruffling his hair, “That’s very nice of you but I don’t want to impose.” Jinyoung chuckled at your reply, “I insist. Plus we could talk more.” You know what’ll happen if you go in his house, “If that’s okay, then okay.”

While he was driving, you glanced up to him. You missed him, but you feel like it’s inappropriate. You looked outside, he still lives at this secured place where majority of the rich people in town or in the country lives. As you passed the gates, you can see the familiar surroundings. It was still raining hard when Jinyoung parked his car, “Wait here, I’ll get an umbrella.” You stopped him, “No! I can run from here to your front door.” You did not realize how far his parking lot was until you reached the front door. You were soaking and literally wet from the adventure you had done. Jin young ran too, “We should’ve gotten the umbrella. Come, you can wear my clothes as we dry yours.”

When he opened the door, you smiled at the place. You and Jinyoung spent lots of time at his house. He once told you that he’s a homebuddy, that he rarely leaves the house. So, when you were here, you redecorated the place. It was nice of him not to change everything after that. “I’ll just wait here.”

When he came out, he’s already changed his clothes. You stopped yourself from drooling, how did you manage to get away from this handsome man? He was wearing his shorts and a shirt. “Here, wear this. The shirt’s mine but the bottoms were yours. You still have some of your belongings here, you know.” You blushed at him, “Okay, I’ll just change my clothes.”

You left your clothes to dry and went out of the bathroom. You still see Jinyoung sitting there and waiting for you. “You don’t have to wait for me though. You should take some rest too. I’ll just wait until the rain stops and I’ll leave.” You smiled at him.

“I know we’ve been avoiding this but I really wanted to talk about us.” He shifted and seated near you, “I don’t regret giving you all those things. It was voluntary. I wanted to give everything to you, even myself.” You replied, “We don’t have to talk about this now, Jinyoung. I insist. Let’s just talk about other things instead.” You don’t want to open the wounds that were just starting to heal or so you thought. “Okay. Is it okay if we move at the bar counter? We could talk there while I make some drinks. Coffee, Tea, Beer, Wine or water?” He stood up waiting for you, “Wine will do.”

Jinyoung asked, “you sure?” Both of you knows that you’re a lightweight kind of person. Two glasses of wines and you’re dead. You’ve catched up a little bit. Jinyoung never thought that he’d see you in his company. You asked him, “Am I accepted already?” Both of you lightly laughed, he said, “If you want the job, then you have it. I won’t deprive my company to have someone as great as you. Do you want it?” You shrugged, “Well, yes! You know me, if I want to achieve something, I’ll make sure to have it!”

You’re getting red already, you asked for the third glass and you feel dizzy already. “You know, you gotta thank Jaebeom. If it wasn’t for him, I won’t have the courage to apply there.” Jinyoung raised his eyebrows at you, “Ah, I remember him. Great guy. Forgive me if I ask, are you & him dating?” He was red, thank god you both were drinking or else you’ll notice the redness on his face. “No, were not dating! He’s like a brother to me. I haven’t dated ever since we met until now.” You smiled at him. “And you? Of course, as a CEO, you got to meet lovely ladies. Tell me more!” His eyes were dark and said, “I don’t just date around, y/n. I’m still waiting for you.”

A moment of silence passes and you asked him, “Why me? I mean, you were my sugar daddy! That’s—” He cut you off, “Correction, my love. I’m still your ‘sugar daddy’. We haven’t signed the closure agreement.” He smirked at you. You looked at him in surprise and thought to yourself, two can play at the same time. “Oh, really? So? What do you want?” You have to blame it on the alcohol. You’re now drunk as hell. And it was hot in the room. You pushed your shorts and now you’re just wearing your underwear and shirt because you left your bra to dry.

“You.” Jinyoung held your face. “Tell me if you want me to stop. Tell me.” He’s closer, and just like that he kissed you. And you kissed back. His hands roaming at your back and your hands on his hair. He’s murmuring, I miss you so much, in between kisses. When he pulled out, you whined, “Why did you stop?” He pulled you onto his lap and said, “Not now baby. You’re drunk. What we’ll do is we sleep. Let’s go now.” You insisted, “But—” He hushed you, “No buts!” He carried you into his room and got your shorts as well. The moment he placed you in his bed, you were already sleeping like a child. He said to himself, what do I do with your stubborn ass?

You wake up the next morning, your head aches so much. “Ugh, hang-over sucks.” You said as you turn to see Jinyoung still sleeping. You were staring at his beautiful face, your fingers running through his hair and then you stopped. When you were about to leave the bed, his hands snaked through your waist, “Don’t leave yet, please.” He whispered in your ears. You turned around to face him once again, now he’s awake, “Jinyoung, I want to end what we have.” You sighed, he replied, “W-what?” You stood up and seated beside him, “We have to end the sugar daddy thingy! I mean how are we supposed to move on from that?” Jinyoung sighed in relief, “Okay but please let me spoil you. You deserve it.” You’re now on top of him and you giggled, “No, love. We’ll be equals now. I can’t just let you spend things for me.” Jinyoung hugged you tightly and said, “Hmm.. Okay. Agreed! I gotta thank Jaebeom for encouraging you. You’re worth the wait, baby. I love you.” Both of you stayed there for a while. Jinyoung feels nothing but contentment and happiness.

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 69

Nice! 

So, Tax Filing and Cats day was a success, if not an unqualified one. I had to wake up unpleasantly early to get to the next town over by 6:30am,  but luckily the feral cats do not care what you look like so I was able to roll out of bed and get some coffee on the way. I don't have much caffeine here, and I needed the coffee badly. The site we worked today was technically supposed to be my first site as point person, back in November or so, and I worked it several times before the bar exam ate me alive. We thought that between my work and one of our other trappers working at a house catty-corner (ha!) to the site, we'd gotten them all, but apparently not.  We managed to catch two of the seven Felines of Interest at the site, but it turns out that one of them was neutered but not ear-tipped, which indicates that at some point he was a pet, poor little dude. It also explained why he did not seem at all scared when he was in the trap. The other cat was apparently tipped, but tipped so small that three trappers and the clinic staff did not notice until she was already sedated. I don't know why some vets are so reluctant to do a visible ear-tip. It's not worth a good goddamn to ear-tip a feral if subsequent trappers can't even see it! So neither of our cats got their day at the spa, but I did go two-for-two on the drop trap, go me! We also get to add those two to our census, which means we know that at least four of the cats at that site are fixed and possibly more. My trapping friends are going back tomorrow for another shot at it, so we'll see how it goes! 

Anyway, I was so tired by the time I got home from trapping that I tried to take a little nap, but was woken after twenty minutes by a phone call from the kiddo, who was bored while doing his schoolwork and wanted to chat. We talked for a few minutes, and then I couldn't get back to sleep anyway so I worked on the taxes. This was not actually super hard, it was more a matter of reviewing my paperwork than doing anything from scratch. I did the bulk of our taxes back at the end of February, right after the bar exam, but we owed money and did not have it. That was one good thing that the pandemic did for us, tbh, it was nice to have extra time to get the necessary cash together even if the cash ended up being stimulus money that we're turning around and feeding back to the government. Also a good reminder that we need to adjust withholding for this tax year. I looked it all over and got it all filed, so we are now poorer but legally squared up and that's a nice feeling. 

During this process, however, I was interrupted by a luckless person calling from my medical supply company to tell me that because they couldn't get their own app to work properly, I was going to have to send the memory card from my CPAP machine to them in the actual mail, and that once they got it they would probably be able to send me the supplies I ordered. He was going to give me an address that I should get a paper and pen to write down. I, being underslept and overmathed, went off on him a little bit about how I am much too busy to get to the post office and wait for supplies  and why doesn't their app work and blah blah. I took a deep breath and apologized right away and he was very nice about it, but I still felt bad. He said they could try the app again to see if they could get it working, as long as they were sure I was using the machine. Since I have something like 90% compliance I was not worried about that. He said they would call back if they needed to do the mail thing, but as he has not called back I assume that either they got the electronic sync to work or he was intimidated by my helpless bitchiness. As soon as I finished the taxes I took a nap and slept for three hours, woke up feeling a lot more human. 

The rest of the day was dedicated to more cleaning. I broke and repaired the vacuum again; that thing is definitely on its last legs. Early in my marriage I had a floor-model Oreck that lasted me about ten years, maybe a little more. I could get it repaired when it broke, and it had bag so it was great for stuff like cat hair and dust. It didn't have a hose, which was a real problem, but we got by. It wound up being sacrificed on the altar of panleukopenia in Florida, when I realized that everything I used to clean up and sanitize the kitten room was in itself hopelessly contaminated and needed to be discarded. Since then I have gone through a series of 40-50 dollar vacuum cleaners, the super-lightweight ones that last maybe a year or two before dying off, but that can easily be replaced if necessary. I miss vacuums with bags, though! This canister stuff is gross. In any case, I vacuumed the hall and the kitten room, after also cleaning up and organizing the kitten room so it will be ready for more kittens when I come home. I put all my syringes, needles, thermometer, flea comb, kitten toothbrush, etc, all in one drawer where I will be able to find it easily, and washed the last of the blankets and rags so they'll be ready too. The house overall is looking good! This evening I went ahead and filled a suitcase with the list of things I wrote down to take back with me, including Legos, more yarn, more clothes for the kiddo who inexplicably packed four identical green shirts for the trip and not much else, my pastamaking Kitchenaid attachments, foot-care stuff, and my rag rug in progress. So much craft stuff,, and a fifty-fifty shot on whether I'll use any of it. But it feels so good to have, and that’s almost more the point right now.

Tomorrow's going to be a very busy day, I have to load up the car by myself and drive it back to North Carolina. Two suitcases is not bad, but I'm also going to try and take a bunch of plants with me, the better to keep them alive two more weeks. A great idea, except many of them are so big I'll have to carry them one at a time through the apartment, down the stairs and across the lawn to the car. Ugh. But it's worth it if they live! I figure I'll sleep in, do what I gotta do, drive into the evening if I must, and get back in time to watch bedtime videos with the kiddo. Food is probably going to be the weirdest part; I vastly overestimated the amount I would eat over this time period and still have more than half a tray of lasagna left to eat tomorrow. Hope I wake up hungry! 

[amehanaaa]

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

We out here with another Nalu story! It’s been so long since I’ve written Nalu, but once I watched this movie, I couldn’t resist. I desperately needed to write this!

I actually have this story all written out, so I plan to have it all posted within the month of June. I hope you will join me on this journey! (Also can be read here.)

Chapter 1 / ? Words: 3030 Summary: Lucy and Natsu are determined to take the necessary steps to fulfill their lifetime dreams. Little do they know, they have both given themselves 10 days to achieve it.

                                                   ——————–

If Lucy doesn't start her mornings with a bagel slathered with strawberry cream cheese, it is not a good morning. The satisfying crunch of the first bite is just as pleasant as birds chirping.

Today is a good morning as Lucy eats her bagel with a content smile as she enters her office building. She makes a beeline towards the elevator. With her free hand, she scrolls through her phone to see if there are any updates.

"Fifty new comments," she whispers to herself.

Unsure whether to be proud or disappointed, she sticks her phone back into her purse and returns her attention to her half-eaten breakfast.

In between bites, she observes the lobby through the glass walls of the elevator. People from all over bustle through the area, all consumed by their own lackluster agendas. The higher she elevates, the more everyone blends together.

There isn't anyone who stands out more than the other—how fitting.

This is what it's like where Lucy works. It's the same routine every week: Mondays are for new ideas, Tuesdays are for settling with an idea, Wednesdays are for presentation, Thursdays through Saturdays are for writing, editing, proofreading, and Sundays are for posting.

Today is Tuesday, which means Lucy needs to decide what she wants to write for this week's article. Normally, she'd walk into her office with an itinerary. But this week, she finds herself feeling lost and uninspired to settle with an idea.

She doesn't let this affect her mood, though. Entering her designated floor, she holds her breath while walking through the experimental smells drifting in the air. Once she smells the familiar booze with a special ting to it, she sits in the open desk next to it.

"Is that blueberry, Cana?" Lucy asks her coworker frantically typing at her computer.

"Cranberry, actually," Cana responds through her types. "I've been experimenting this drink all week. I think this is going to be my best review yet!"

"I still can't believe Erza is letting you do this to yourself." Lucy shakes her head slightly, feeling a sense of pity as Cana appears to be in shambles.

"It's a privilege more than anything." Cana sends Lucy a grin over her shoulder, completely oblivious to her wild eyes. "I mean, how many people get paid for drinking unhealthy amounts of alcohol just to write a review on it?"

"I think I can see why it's not a popular job," Lucy responds. She returns to her own computer and purses her lips in thought. She has a list of what she could do for this week, but none of her ideas are close to what she actually wants to write.

Cana notices Lucy's blank stares. "Can't decide what to write this week?"

"I have some ideas," Lucy answers, half-lying. "I'm just not sure which one to pick."

"How about a follow up on that survey you did a couple of months ago? The one about lip gloss?" Cana suggests.

It takes every part of Lucy's physical being to hold back her cringe. "Yeah, I could do that."

"Everyone likes reading about lip gloss," Cana states simply, returning to her typing.

"Not everyone," Lucy mutters beneath her breath.

This is also what it's like every week. Pretending to love cheap cosmetics, the latest fashion trends, celebrity rumors, abs-guaranteed-exercises, and everything else in between. Lucy has mastered the art of pretending to be fully invested in these ideas.

Really, her dream is to have her own writing business that covers stories like how Fiore became the way it is, why the locals are the way they are, and highlight the hidden, creative minds throughout the city of Magnolia. She wants Fiore's hidden voices to finally have some light—that's all.

She thought joining this company would be the doorway to more opportunities to pursue her dream. And yet, here she is, already have worked two years without any progress. For now, she remains at a company where its sole purpose is to make women's lives easier one hairstyle, workout, rumor, and lip gloss application at a time.

Lucy's ultimate desires are easy to suppress throughout the day, but it doesn't seem to be working as effectively today.

"Do you think you're going to be ready to present to Erza tomorrow?" Cana asks once the work day is almost over.

"I'll figure it out." Lucy releases a heavy sigh, tilting her neck to each side with a relieving pop. It's not like she has much of a choice—she has to figure it out or else.

"We can go drinking tonight if you want," Cana offers.

"The only thing you should be drinking tonight is water." Lucy nearly scolds, standing from her seat and collecting her belongings. She places a water bottle next to Cana's desk. "I have plans tonight with Levy, but thanks, anyway. See you tomorrow."

Before Cana can convince her like she has done plenty of times before, she leaves the office building. Like any other city, cars cover the streets like mindless ants. The sunset hides behind the buildings, allowing Lucy to be guided by the flickering streetlights.

She strategically makes her way through the traffic, travels through three subway stations, and eventually arrives to her apartment. She unlocks her front door, being met with the delicious smell of dinner.

"Welcome back, Lu!" a voice sings out from the kitchen.

"Hey, Levy," Lucy smiles at her best friend and sets her purse down on the counter. "What's for tonight?"

"Dumplings," Levy announces proudly. "Are we still watching our show tonight?"

"Of course we are," she nods. The two exchange an excited smile before Lucy takes out her phone and reads another update. Who knew a trivial review about makeup could get so many comments?

After indulging in Levy's famous dumplings, Lucy tries to find any sense of inspiration for what to write this week. She thought of how she could write about how to eat healthy while eating dumplings, but she remembered that Evergreen wrote something similar last year.

"You okay? You're quiet tonight," Levy comments as they settle onto the couch minutes before their beloved TV show.

"I have no idea what to write this week," Lucy admits, running a hand through her hair. "I just want to write what I want to write, you know? I'm tired of writing all of this nonsense."

"It's okay," Levy reaches over and rubs Lucy's shoulder for comfort. "You're going to get there, okay? For now, let yourself enjoy the show. I read some spoilers that it's going to get juicy tonight."

"You said you weren't going to read spoilers without me!" Lucy proclaims, scoffing as Levy giggles mischievously.

Lucy decides to accept her best friend's advice, deciding that her article is more trivial than the show. But after this, she is definitely going to have to choose an idea.

"He should just dump her already!" Levy groans loudly as the episode cuts to a commercial.

"There has to be a reason why he keeps staying with her," Lucy theorizes aloud. "She has treated him horribly all episode. He wants something from her."

"Or maybe she wants something from him," Levy retorts. "They're not even a good pair, anyway. Ugh, I'll be right back. I need a refresher."

Lucy can't help but laugh to herself at Levy's dramatic expressions. She hopes that someday her audience will also react in a way like Levy. Her work will cause her audience to feel riled up, whether it be out of inspiration to take action or enragement and throw a fit.

At the same time, Lucy feels an emotional wall for the characters in the TV show, which is the complete opposite of Levy. Lucy can't remember the last time she has felt anything remotely related to love, let alone infatuation.

What was it like to feel so helplessly in love? What a foreign idea.

With the sound of Levy's quick steps back to the couch matching the steady thump of her heartbeat, the gears in Lucy's head gradually begin turning. When the TV show returns from commercial, it hits her.

"I have an idea on what to write!" Lucy exclaims suddenly.

"Shh, tell me later!" Levy waves her off, but Lucy doesn't care.

A grin stretches across her face. The idea is risky. It might not work out. It's not going to be easy.

But if each article she writes is one step closer to her dream, she's determined to take that next step.

                                                     --------------------

"Come in, Lucy!"

Lucy opens the door to a spacious office, windows displaying the buildings of Magnolia. It's the classic office that anyone would dream of having—that is, anyone who only wishes to write about nonsense all the time.

"Hi, Erza," Lucy greets her boss. "I'm here to present my idea for you."

"It took you longer than I expected, but I can squeeze in some time for you. You can sit down," Erza beckons her. "What do you have for me?"

"It's going to be a personal story this week, but with a twist. Here are my ideas," Lucy explains while sliding her a notebook with all her scribbled ideas.

Erza squints at her handwriting, but they soon return back to normal. Much to Lucy's delight, interest swirls in Erza's eyes. She begins to nod with an amused smile, glancing at Lucy above her glasses.

"So, you're going to date a guy in reverse? How will you do that?"

"I'll find ways to drive him away," she answers. "I'll use mistakes that women typically make. It'll be an article of what not to do when you're dating someone. I'll keep a journal about it and record my findings."

"How to lose a guy in ten days," Erza echoes Lucy's final notes. "I think you've struck gold here. How did you think of this?"

Lucy can't hold back her satisfied smile. "This TV show I watched last night gave me some inspiration. Do you approve of my idea? In terms of posting, I won't be able to post on Sunday due to the length of the experiment."

"We can afford that if the execution is as good as the idea," Erza responds.

Although her words come out discouraging, Lucy takes a deep breath to ignore the looming pressure. She knows this isn't going to be an easy article to write, but she's willing to sell a kidney at this point.

"I'm going to a gathering tonight," Erza mentions, causing Lucy to perk up in her seat. "There will be plenty of men. Would you like to join me and find your experiment?"

Lucy doesn't like the idea of calling her future date an experiment, but she can't take back this opportunity. "I would love to come!"

"Okay, see you then. Now, if you would excuse me, I have some strawberry cake to eat."

Understanding that this is Erza's way of kicking her out of her office, Lucy collects her belongings and nearly dances out of the office. There isn't any room for anxiety for what she has gotten herself into. Right now, there is just pure bliss.

The outside air has never felt fresher on Lucy's skin as she makes her way back home for the day. Even though most of her articles have been nonsense, there is always a pre-article excitement.

"Levy, my boss accepted my idea!" Lucy shouts into her phone, her voice contained by the crowd surrounding her.

"That's awesome, Lu! I knew you could do it!" Levy cheers her on. "You're off work early, right? Come to the bakery and I'll treat you!"

"You don't have to invite me twice. I'll be right there," Lucy responds happily.

After hanging up the call, Lucy isn't able to hide the bounce in her step. She'll never admit this aloud, but the high of getting Erza's approval is almost as gratifying as her morning bagels.

Lucy pauses at a crosswalk, holding a staring contest with the red light across the street. She doesn't hesitate once it turns green; however, the first step she takes on the street matches with a screech.

"Oh, my—"

"Are you alright?!"

Lucy's eyes are almost bulging out of its sockets as she watches a man jump off his motorcycle and approach her with eyes the same size.

"Are you alright?" the man repeats, searching her for any injuries. "I wasn't expecting you to be there when I was turning."

"I-I'm okay," Lucy stutters, finally catching up with her ragged breaths. "It was my fault. I should have looked before I started crossing."

"I'm just glad you're not hurt." He lets out a relieved sigh. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay," she assures. She watches as the man shivers, almost as though to release the idea of what could have just happened. Although he wears a helmet with a tinted visor, she can tell he isn't bad looking. Could he be the one for her experiment?

"Well, since we're both good here, I'm heading out. Stay safe." The man nods his head as he begins to return to his bike.

Lucy moves her foot to step towards him. But by the time she realizes that there is no way she could ask someone out after being nearly trampled, the man is already zooming away.

"Note to self," Lucy mumbles, carefully walking across the street. "Just go for it next time."

                                                    --------------------

The idea of running someone over after driving a motorcycle for less than a week is enough for Gray to shiver through his jacket. He can vividly see how the woman's eyes widened and jaw dropped in a matter of seconds. Gray deletes the image from his mind as quickly as possible.

"Hey, where have you been?!" a voice shouts out to Gray as he rolls towards the front of the fire station.

"Sorry, I got caught up in something," he explains, trying not to show that his voice is still shaky. "Anyway, here's your lunch. You owe me one."

"Owe you for what?" a man snatches the bag from Gray's hands. "Juvia gives you these for free, anyway."

"Not the point, Natsu." He rolls his eyes, following his friend to an outdoor table. "You're going to have to teach yourself how to cook someday."

"I do know how to cook," Natsu retorts. "I just cook at my own convenience."

Gray stifles a laugh while shaking his head. "Microwaveable meals don't count."

The two bicker—occasionally getting physical—until Natsu catches a glimpse of Gray's sparkling motorcycle in his peripheral vision. He pauses just for a second. "How's your bike?"

"I haven't killed anyone yet," Gray responds with a nonchalant shrug.

"My bike is cooler, anyway." Natsu waves his hand in dismissal. "You're welcome for getting you that deal, by the way."

"Yeah, yeah," Gray also lifts his hand to wave him off. He's positive that Natsu will never let him live that down. He is about to say they should race someday, but he notices the time.

"Hey, I need to head out, but I wanted to mention that Juvia is hosting a party tonight. You can come if you want."

"What's the menu look like?" Natsu asks.

"I can tell Juvia to think of you," Gray responds, causing Natsu to grin. "Come to my place in a suit."

"Alright, I'm in," Natsu nods in acceptance. He follows Gray towards his bike, munching on the remains of his baby carrots. It isn't until Gray is almost a street away when a thought surfaces into Natsu's mind.

"Does he expect me to bring a date?" he mutters to himself, going back inside the station.

Natsu's memory is blurry on the last time he was romantically involved with a woman. Sure, he has had his share of relationships, but there came a day when none of it was enjoyable as it used to be. Now that he is a fresh 26, Natsu wants more than a pointless, ten-day fling.

Knowing fully well that the food at the parties Juvia hosts is some of the best, Natsu purposely skips snacking throughout the day. It makes his time at the station a lot more difficult than it needs to be, but it's worth it.

By the time he takes a quick elevator trip up to Gray's apartment later that evening, his stomach growls louder than the blow dryer Gray holds onto as he opens the door.

Gray whistles, taking in Natsu's attire. "Looks like you're dressed to meet the love of your life tonight."

"Good one," Natsu scoffs and enters the apartment. "Does Juvia know you use a blow dryer?"

"Yes, she does. She appreciates it," Gray quips back.

Natsu can't stop himself from wandering into the kitchen, searching for just a nibble of a snack. It isn't hard to spot Gray's collection, snacks of all types covering the pantry.

A pit of envy settles in Natsu's stomach. Not for the snacks themselves, but for the guarantee that the pantry will always be filled. Natsu still isn't quite sure how Gray landed the career he has. He certainly deserves it, though. He has always been skilled at talking to others, especially if it's to persuade.

As a result, Gray's career has gifted him a luxurious apartment with luxurious amenities. But it's not the tangible items that Natsu envies the most—it's the connections and network of people he knows.

Natsu reaches for a box of crackers until he hears Gray's footsteps behind him. "You ready? Juvia is about to pick us up."

"Readier than I'll ever be," Natsu responds, stuffing a couple of crackers into his mouth. He can't hold back his laugh at Gray's eye roll, puffs of cracker dust sparkling across the air.

"You love food so much. I wonder if you have any game left," Gray remarks.

"Why wouldn't I?" Natsu raises his brows.

"Do you think you could get a girl tonight?" Gray challenges.

"For how long?"

Gray's eyes light up at the question, which makes Natsu immediately regret his question. Giving Gray the opportunity to manipulate the duration of this bet is one of the worst moves he could have ever made.

"Ten days," Gray answers eventually.

"Ten days?" Natsu repeats incredulously, but hastily changes his tone. "I can do that. What do I get in return?"

"Anything you want," Gray shrugs simply. "As long as you stay with the girl a full ten days, of course. No matter how difficult she gets."

Natsu is quiet as he tries to form his words. "After this bet, I want you to get my name out there." His voice is firm. "I want to be recruited to a place that has more activity."

It appears that Gray is holding his breath, but the image fades away as he nods. "Really, I've been wanting to do that for you sooner or later. I can tell how disappointing Magnolia has been for you."

Natsu smiles thinly at Gray's words. "Yeah. I'm ready to get out of here."

"Well, if you work hard enough, maybe you will," Gray confirms with newfound amusement in his eyes. "Maybe after these ten days, you can get that girl to move away with you."

"You sure have quite the imagination, Ice Princess."

Gray is about to shoot back with one of the many nicknames they have for one another, but the ring of his phone beats him to it.

"Yeah, we'll be right out."

"Actually," Natsu begins, reaching for the keys on the wall. "I'll follow you. Nobody knows how this night might end."

"You're lucky that you know how to ride a bike," Gray remarks.

"You're lucky that I taught you!" Natsu retorts, following his friend out of his apartment.

With that, Natsu revs the motorcycle and follows Gray and Juvia's sleek car. He isn't sure what this night will hold, but he ignores the annoying buzz in the back of his ears.

So what if he said he was tired of pointless, ten-day flings? Those flings weren't going to lead him to a new job opportunity. This fling, however, is going to be one of the most rewarding bets he has ever done.

If this fling is one step closer to his dream, Natsu is determined to take that next step.

[let-it-raines]

Rising from the Ashes (14/?)

Summary: When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones. 

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be. 

Rating: Mature

A/N: Two chapters in one week? What? I’m trying to get back to spacing this and BOTB out, so this one gets another posting even though I’m not entirely sure if my writing speed for chapters will keep up. I’m nervous about this chapter. Seriously. I’ve read through it a lot. So I hope that you guys like it 💕

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @jamif @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64 

There’s absolutely no reason for him to be running today. He doesn’t have the time. He should be in his office reviewing his presentation for tomorrow. He and Robin have spent weeks preparing “what if” scenarios for soldiers to have to run through in the new basic training regimes, and it’s been such a challenge having to form things for teaching instead of actual warfare. He’s been retired from the Navy for half a decade this year, and yet he still spends nearly every day of his life reliving scenes and memories of his time in the military. It’s a bit of the crux of being a career military man. When you get out, what are you qualified to do?

Not everyone has this problem. A lot of people go to school through the services and learn trades. He didn’t go to school, but he did learn a trade in logistics and planning to make sure that the ships didn’t go down in the middle of the night by some kind of Titanic shaped iceberg or an attack. It’s still what he does now, even as a civilian. He’d like to quit one day, to do something calmer, do something that doesn’t bring back so many memories of loss or bring forth so much stress, but this job pays well and supports his family. He can stay at least until Ada goes to college.

In seventeen years.

He’s going to be fifty-five in seventeen years. That’s odd for him to think about, but it’s exactly what he thinks of as his legs burn, the muscles and joints aching a bit more than they used to when he was younger. It’s usually not too bad, the running helping more than hurting, but some days it’s not as easy to hold his daughter above his head to make her giggle or to make love to Emma.

Just last week he’d gotten a cramp right in the middle of their activities, and Emma had laughed so hard that he had started laughing too.

Mostly he was laughing through the pain.

That cramp may still be going on in his right thigh.

It’s always an adventure.

And maybe one day it’ll be an adventure where he can take Emma sailing without any thoughts of war and the pros and cons of Norway randomly invading Afghanistan on a particular day or time.

So maybe that’s why he runs. He’s got a lot that he thinks about, personally and professionally, and the release of endorphins fuels him in a way. It stresses his joints, but it destresses his mind. Besides, he will admit that while he doesn’t think he’s a particularly vain man, he does appreciate the way Emma tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth when he lifts her from the ground or the way that she runs her fingers over the muscles of his stomach. Plus, he wants to be healthy for his kids.

That’s why he keeps running for the next thirty minutes, his legs pounding against the pavement and sweat beading at his forehead and down his back, the early February chill keeping him cool to a point where he knows he’ll start sweating more when he gets inside. It always happens, so it takes him a little while longer to cool down and to take a shower at the gym that’s around the block from his office.

“Jones,” a familiar voice calls to him when he’s just finished buttoning up his shirt, and he turns to look at Neal, his hair sopping wet like he’s just showered as well, “aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I could say the same to you,” he laughs as he pushes his hair back, hoping that it’ll dry correctly since he doesn’t have any of his gel with me. “Lunch break?”

“Yeah, I don’t usually make it here, but it’s been kind of a slow day. Figured I’d eat while I work.”

“That’s how it goes,” he sighs. He bends down to lace his shoes, pulling up his socks the slightest bit before he turns to look back at Neal. “Hey, so Emma is dropping Henry off at my office, and I’m taking him to his therapy appointment. Do you want a ride?”

Neal’s really got to get a car, but now that he might be moving, he’s decided to put off the purchase until he knows for sure where he’s living. It’s likely a good thing. This way he can save up money and put as much down as possible without having to worry about making far too many payments with interest rates the way they are. And if he’s in DC, he may not even need a vehicle. It’s all complicated and still a bit messy, but he and Emma have made plans to sit down and talk to Neal sometime this week, possibly tonight, so that they can actually get through some of this. It’s odd basically regulating a grown man, one who is older than both of them, but they’re trying to figure out how to be a family. Sometimes that takes awkward conversations.

He’s not exactly looking forward to this particular conversation because he’s struggling with the thought that Henry might have to spend some time away from them. Emma is worrying herself sick about it, and she doesn’t even know what’s going to happen. Neither of them do. Hell, Neal likely doesn’t. If he’s honest with himself, Neal likely hasn’t put much thought into either. Killian’s not sure if it’s because Neal hasn’t realized that technically he has a right to having Henry live with him or if he doesn’t care.

Scratch that. Of course Neal cares. He loves Henry, but sometimes he thinks that Neal is more concerned about impressing Henry than being his father. Maybe he still doesn’t know how, maybe he doesn’t think he belongs as a part of their family. He can understand that. He felt that way for a long time, and it must still be difficult for Neal. It might not ever not be difficult, but all he and Emma want is for Neal to feel at home.

And be a father to Henry, to not worry about trying to be more fun or the one who gives better presents. He’s getting there. He really is, and maybe if he and Emma did a better job, Neal would feel more at home.

They’re trying. For as hard as it is on them, he also knows that it’s hard on Neal. So they’re all trying.

“His appointment is at five, yeah?”

“On the dot.”

Neal flashes him a grin while he rubs his hand over his scruff. “Yeah, I’d really appreciate that. Are you going to take me home afterwards or are you going to force me to walk?”

“I thought I’d make you walk. You’ve been letting yourself go, and I didn’t want to say anything.”

He barks out a laugh, the sound echoing throughout the locker room, and it makes Killian smile too, the corners of his lips tugging up.

“I could still take you in a fight, Jones.”

“Please,” he scoffs, tightening his laces one more time before standing up straight, “that never happened. I beat your ass in training every time.”

“Not on – ”

“October fifth.” “See, you remember?”

“Because you never let me forget about it,” Killian laughs, reaching down to pick up his bag. “It was all I heard for months. It’s been thirteen years, and you still don’t let me forget.”

Neal shrugs, his face still crinkled in happiness. “It was a damn good day. You even bought me a beer afterward.”

“Well, I figured since it was a one-time thing, it was the least I could do.” He takes a step over and claps Neal on the shoulder, smiling down at him. “I’ll see you at a quarter before five, and since I’m not evil, I’ll even let you ride home with Henry and me.”

“Such a saint.”

“I try.”

It’s a quick walk back to his office, and after saying hello to his secretary Anna, he settles down in his office and gets back to working on his proposal while eating the leftover pasta salad from dinner last night. He gets about two hours to himself to plow through things before Robin comes in, closing the door behind him and plopping down on the couch, the leather creaking beneath his weight.

“Are you almost finished with the coding for it? Because we need to send that down to Arthur for him to double check, especially since you’re leaving early.”

“I’ve got one section left,” he sighs, typing out one more scenario before rolling back in his chair and looking at Robin. “Did you come in here to procrastinate?”

“Most definitely.”

“So you’re whining about me leaving early because I have to take my kid somewhere, and yet you’re in here not doing your work?”

Robin shrugs and leans back further on the couch. “I already finished my section, mate. I literally can’t do anything else without you.”

“Aww, Rob, I always knew you loved me, but I never knew how much.”

“You’re an asshole,” he laughs, flicking a piece of paper in his direction.

“And yet you love me anyways.” He curls one side of his lips up into a smirk and winks at him, making sure to exaggerate it. “I really will be finished soon, and I’ll likely work through it tonight once everyone is asleep. Emma and I have a lot to do this evening, though.”

“I get it. I’ve got to go get Roland from his mom tonight, but we always get it done, yeah?”

“Aye,” he confirms. “Now get your ass off my sofa so I can finish this up in time.”

Robin mock salutes before walking away, leaving his office door open. It could be an accident, but Killian knows that Robin did it just to annoy him.

The wanker.

The rest of his day goes by as it normally does. He gets all of his program formatted and sends it off in time so that Arthur can run through the technicalities of it before sending it back to Robin. It’s a long, drawn out process, and when there’s a knock at his opened door, Emma and the kids standing there, he’s more relieved that he’s been in awhile to get to see all of them in the office.

“Hello loves,” he smiles as he gets up out of his chair, reaching down to hug Henry first before embracing Emma and briefly kissing her. “I can’t believe Anna let you in here with I specifically told her not to.”

“It’s because I’m super fast,” Henry explains, not at all amused by his joke.

“That you are. Did you have a good day at school, bud?”

“Yeah, but I need your help with fractions later. Mary Margaret made them weird.”

“Did she now?”

“Yeah, she said something about a pizza, but I didn’t get it.”

“It’s okay,” he promises, smiling at Henry to try to get him to perk up a little. “We’ll figure it out later. Do you want to get out your legos from my desk while I talk to Mum?”

Henry nods his head before dropping his backpack on the couch and hurrying over to get the box of toys Killian keeps in his bottom drawer for the times when Henry is here. Or even when Roland or someone else’s kid is stuck waiting while their parents work.

“I always hated fractions,” Emma sighs as she sways back and forth with a sleeping Ada. “And percentages. I still get those wrong sometimes.”

“We can’t all be geniuses like me.”

“Tone it down, Einstein,” she laughs, her lashes landing against her cheek. “But from what I can tell, Henry had a good day, Ada too, so I hope both of their appointments go well. I’ll call you after Ada and I get finished at the doctor.”

“I’m sure they’ll both be fine. Henry and I are going to pick up Neal and take him to his appointment too, okay?”

“When did that happen?”

“I ran into him at the gym and offered.”

Emma clicks her tongue and sighs a bit, her hands constantly running over Ada’s back. “That’ll be good. If you guys want to go out to get something to eat afterwards, that might be good too. Or maybe a snack since Henry has homework and we were going to talk to Neal tonight. Of course we could always talk to him tomorrow.”

He presses his lips together and reaches forward to caress her forearm, moving his fingers in a way similar to what Emma is doing to Ada. They’re both trying to comfort, even if it’s for different reasons. “We’ll talk to him, and it’s going to be fine. He’s not…we haven’t had many issues with him since we told him about us, and he’s grown a lot since then, yeah? He’s not going to try to take Henry away from you, from us.”

“I know that,” she whispers, looking over his shoulder to see Henry. “I really do. I’m nervous. I can’t help it.”

“I know, love. I know.” He leans forward and presses his lips to her temple. “Go take Ada to the doctor and maybe stop to get something you like to eat too.”

“That’s cute that you assume I wasn’t doing that already. Bye kid,” she tells Henry, waving at him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye Mom,” he murmurs, not even looking up from his legos.

You can’t get between the boy and his legos.

He finishes up a few last things, checks to see how many emails he has that he needs to respond to before tomorrow, and then shuts his computer down before taking Henry out to the parking garage so that they can get Neal and drive downtown to their therapists’ offices. Henry gets stuck on talking about how Avery told him a restaurant by the pier serves Mickey Mouse waffles, and of course, that gets him to talk about Disney World and how Grace and Violet went with their families over Christmas break. He and Emma have talked about it before, but it’s expensive and they have an infant they’d have to cart around as well.

Maybe some other time.

Why take your kid to Disney World when you can take them to see a hell of a lot of history in Washington DC instead? At least, that’s what they’re telling Henry about their trip next month.

But Neal easily joins in on the conversation about Mickey shaped waffles and the pros and cons of Woody versus Buzz lightyear. Luckily for Neal, Henry likes a lot of the classic movies, so he hasn’t been subjected to watching every new movie to know what his son is talking about. He still has to watch a lot of them, but he’s got the basic knowledge of Toy Story and The Lion King down.

The Lego Movie was all new to him. That’s a favorite in the house.

(He may never be able to watch it without his ears hurting ever again with that damn song.)

After shuffling through traffic, he pulls into the parking lot of the office building and puts the car in park so that he can take Henry up to Dr. Hopper’s office, the two of them dropping Neal off on the second floor.

“So Momma goes to talk to someone, I go to talk to someone, and my dad talks to someone?” Henry asks in the elevator. “Why don’t you talk to someone?”

Kids. They ask the exact things you don’t want to be asked about.

“I used to,” he says after thinking about it for a minute, trying to answer as delicately as he can. “And I might again. Sometimes we need someone besides our mums and dads or our friends to talk to, and that’s why we talk to Dr. Hopper, yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s nice. He talks about you and Mom a lot.”

“We’re very interesting people.”

“Sometimes you guys are boring.”

He chuckles and pulls Henry into his side right when the elevator doors open to their floor, the two of them stepping out and walking to the receptionist’s desk to tell them they’re here for Henry. Dr. Hopper almost immediately walks out, which has never happened to him at any doctor’s appointment in his entire life, and Henry happily walks back in his office with him. He knows that Emma waits in the office when she takes him, but he needs to go fill up the car with gas. So he gets back in the elevator and walks out into the lobby while responding to one of his emails from work.

When he looks up, though, he stops in his tracks, instinct taking over as he folds back into a corner of the lobby while he watches Neal get into a car outside.

What?

What the hell?

Why is Neal getting into a car? Who is he getting into a car with? Is this some kind of therapy thing? They drive and talk? That’s new but maybe it’s a thing.

Bloody hell. It’s definitely not a thing.

Neal is skipping out on his therapy appointment and getting into a random car, and he has no idea why, the blood in his veins heating as confusion and worry courses through him.

He’s already swiping out of his email to call Neal and ask him if he’s okay, if something is wrong that he had to leave, but something stops him from doing anything. Some kind of inner instinct that he honed from years in the Navy and years as a father understanding when a child is lying to him stops him from reaching out and asking Neal where he’s going right now.

He doesn’t…he doesn’t understand, and with the way his mind works, he can’t focus on anything but running through all of the scenarios that might be happening, even the crazy ones. He seems to only be able to focus on the crazy theories which don’t even seem coherent in his mind as he twists them around and tries to make sense of his muddled thoughts.

Something catches in his throat, and he tries to swallow the gulp that’s there while his heart pounds against his ribcage, something constricting in a way that causes his breath to be a bit shortened. Or a lot. He might not be breathing right now. He’s still alive, so he’s definitely breathing. But he can feel heat spreading across his cheeks and goose bumps rising on his arms.

Fuck.

This isn’t right. Whatever is happening isn’t right. Somehow, without any rhyme or reason, he just knows, and if he’s honest with himself as he has this psychological breakdown in the lobby of an office building, there are things that haven’t been right since the very beginning of Neal’s homecoming. He’s noticed them. Of course he has. But his kids, his relationship with Emma, and making sure that Neal has had an easy transition back into society have been his focus so that he hasn’t put too much thought into everything else. He screwed things up so badly with Emma, to the point where she might not have wanted to be with him ever again, and all he’s wanted was to get back on track with her, to make sure that she knows that he loves her more than his own life. All he’s wanted was to make sure that Ada is still growing as much as she should and that Henry is okay after going through such a transition both at home and at school.

All he’s wanted is for everyone to be okay, Neal included.

This, how he’s feeling, how he’s thinking, is not okay.

But maybe it is. Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s imagining things.

He’s not imagining things. He can’t be. He’s not crazy. His mind is fully functional. He knows what’s in front of his eyes, and he just watched Neal get into a random car when he’s supposed to be at therapy.

Shit. He should have gotten the license plate.

Why would he get the license plate? What would he do with that? To look up to see if the Uber driver Neal is using is registered on the site? Is it an Uber driver? Maybe it’s a friend. Maybe Neal didn’t feel like talking about things with his therapist today so he called a friend? Why would he do that? Why would he hide that from them?

Then again, why wouldn’t he hide that from them? Emma would make him go, would be upset if she knew that he wasn’t going, so maybe that’s it. He needed a break from talking. Killian understands that. There were days when he used to hate going to therapy as well.

But…

He’s got no bloody clue what’s happening.

It’s likely nothing, and this is just his paranoia and anxiety stepping up when he’s been living in a pretty stressful situation for a long while. Maybe it’s a bit of confusion, but maybe it’s just another thing about Neal that doesn’t add up when he truly thinks about it. Maybe it’s something. Maybe it can explain why Neal’s handling his PTSD better than anyone he’s ever seen. Maybe it can explain why none of Neal’s scars were fresh, why all of them had years to heal. Maybe it can explain why Neal is so hell bent on being an American hero and spending his time in DC. In working in the government even when the government failed him so spectacularly. Maybe it can explain why Neal seems to always be gone, to never be home on time. Maybe it can explain Neal knowing things he shouldn’t know. It’s only been a few things, a few random, unimportant things, but Neal knows things that he shouldn’t since he has been in captivity for eight years.

Or maybe it can’t explain anything. Neal was captured by Al-Qaeda almost a decade ago, and that’s where he’s been. He’s been through a tragedy, and he gets to be home and back with his family, even if it’s a little different than the way he thought it would be. Neal was captured, and he is a hero. That’s what’s happened.

But what if it’s not?

That’s preposterous. That’s the most insane thought he’s ever had, and Neal getting in a car to skip out on therapy doesn’t mean anything.

All of his thoughts are starting to sound like people who believe in conspiracy theories, and he is not that kind of man. He is too logical for all of this. He’s simply stressed and a little short staffed after a hectic day at work and the impending conversation about his son’s living situation. All he needs is to take a few deep breaths and calm himself down so that his mind stops working in overdrive.

His phone starts ringing in his hand and he sees Emma’s scrunched up smiling face from where he’d just kissed her cheek before she snapped the picture. She put it in his phone as her contact name, and it makes him smile nearly every time.

She makes him smile.

“Hello, love,” he greets, clenching his jaw and attempting to calm himself down from the race that his mind is currently running. He hates when he gets like this. It’s helpful at work but not now.

“Hey, babe. So guess who is the father of a perfectly healthy nine-month-old baby girl?”

“I sure as hell hope it’s me.”

“I mean, obviously I was just calling you to tell you about a random baby.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Exactly,” Emma laughs, her voice so light that it nearly breaks him apart thinking about everything that’s just happened. It has to be nothing. It’s just a weird coincidence, a misunderstanding. All of these odd little things happening over the past few months with Neal have been misunderstandings. They can’t be more. They can’t for Emma’s sake, for Henry’s. Emma doesn’t need to go through anything else. She needs to be happy. He’s overreacting in the biggest of ways. He’s got to cut back on coffee. “But seriously, Ada is growing just fine. She’s nineteen pounds and twenty seven inches. Dr. Kay said the only thing was that we need to try some more different textured foods, so I’m going to run by Whole Foods and get some of the things on this list we got.”

“That’s wonderful, love. I’m glad she’s healthy.”

He’s more than glad. He’s so relieved. He knows of all the things that can go wrong in young children, and it’s the biggest comfort knowing that his child is okay. She once had a high fever, just a few weeks after she was born, and that was one of the most nerve-wracking moments of his life.

“You and me both. Sometimes I get so worried about her. Like, it’s so easy to mess things up, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Swan,” he sighs, smiling the slightest bit because he can’t help himself when it comes to her, “you are the best mum on the planet. There’s no competition.”

-/-

-/-

“I’m dying,” Emma groans, adjusting herself in bed again, kicking around the pillows at her feet.

“I’m sure that’s not true, love.”

Emma’s eyes basically turn into black slits, and he immediately inches away from her, putting space between them so that she doesn’t punch him. He likely deserves it.

“I have heartburn that is killing me. Actually killing me. I forgot about this.”

“Do you need something?” he asks softly, reaching over to her and rubbing his fingers into her arm while she still twists and turns on the bed.

“I think I’m going to just lay here and suffer in my misery, but if you want to get the remote for me, that’d be wonderful.”

“Now that I can do.”

He puts his book down on his bedside table before moving the covers off of his legs and rising from the bed to take the few steps toward the television and the remote that’s resting on its stand. He picks it up and tosses it over toward the bed so that it bounces on the mattress toward Emma. She quickly picks it up and turns the television on, flipping through channels.

“I’m going to go get some tea, Swan. Do you want anything?”

“Water. And some more Tums.”

“As you wish.”

It’s still early, the sun having barely risen, so he’s surprised when he finds Henry in the kitchen standing on his step stool as he looks through the cabinets. Usually he sleeps in on Saturdays, and they always hear the floor creak when he walks past their bedroom.

“What are you looking for?”

“Food,” Henry shrugs, not at all shocked by Killian’s presence. “Where did all of our good stuff go?”

“There’s plenty of good stuff in there,” he scoffs, stepping over to look in the cabinet with Henry. “Do you want some oatmeal? Cheerios? What about some scrambled eggs? I don’t think Mum is feeling up to one of our big Saturday breakfasts.”

“I thought babies are supposed to make people more hungry. That’s what Avery says.”

“Isn’t Avery an only child?”

“Yeah, but he’s smart.”

“Of course he is,” he laughs, grabbing Henry by the waist and plopping him down on the kitchen island so that he’s away from all of the appliances. “I can fix you something to eat, and we’ll go upstairs and eat it in my room, yeah?”

“I thought I couldn’t eat in my room.”

“But you can in my room when I say so, and I think your mummy needs some extra snuggles with you this morning.”

“Why? She’s already got the baby.”

Oh shit. He’s been expecting this, but he wasn’t really expecting it until after the baby was here and a lot of their time was spent focusing on her. He most definitely wasn’t expecting it now when Emma’s five months along and Henry has known he was getting a sibling for two months.

This is going to be one of those moments where he terribly screws things up, isn’t it?

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to spend time with you,” he says softly, making sure to be extra careful with his words while he closes the kitchen cabinets.

“But all she talks about with other people is the baby.”

“Mum is excited, lad,” he sighs, leaning back against the counter and studying Henry’s face, wishing his lips weren’t curled down. “I thought you were too. You’re going to be a big brother just like Liam is to me and David is to your mum.”

“I am excited,” he mumbles underneath his breath while messing with his t-shirt, the picture of someone who is not excited, “but what if you and Momma love my sister more than you love me?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothes, stepping forward and wrapping Henry up in a hug even as Henry squirms away from him a bit before finally wrapping his arms around his back, “that’s just not true. We love you so much, Henry, and that’s never going to change, okay? Yes, you’re going to have to share your time with us with your sister, but I promise that we will love you just as much.”

“Are you still going to come to my soccer games?” he sniffles, burying his head in Killian’s shoulder.

“Every Saturday afternoon. I will be there for as much as I can. And when your sister is big enough, she’s going to be there to cheer you on every Saturday as well.”

“Is she gonna be able to yell like Momma does?”

“Oh most definitely,” he laughs, leaning back so that he can look in Henry’s eyes, his little brows no longer furrowed and his lips beginning to curve up. “She’s going to be a big yeller. She’s going to be a lot smaller than you, but we’re still going to do a lot of fun things. I always wanted a little sister, and you’re so lucky to get one.”

“You wanted a little sister?”

“Of course I did,” he answers, pulling the eggs out of the refrigerator so he can make some scrambled eggs. “When you have a younger sibling, you get to teach them all kinds of things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you can teach her to play soccer and to draw those cool pictures of yours. She’ll need a lot of help at first, like learning to walk and talk, and you can help her with that. You can also tell her stories like I do to you.”

“I think she’ll like Captain Underpants.”

He snickers under his breath as he cracks an egg open on the pan. “I think she might.”

“Will she like TV?”

“Who doesn’t like TV?”

“Grandma sometimes.” “Well your grandma is just a silly goose,” he laughs, moving his spatula around a bit while adding some pepper. “But yeah, bud, she’s going to like all of those things, and you can help your mum and I take care of her so that her favorite person in the world is her big brother Henry.”

He and Henry keep talking about all of the things that Henry can do with his sister once she’s born, even if a few of them are a little far-fetched. But it’s a nice way to keep Henry excited, to make him be happy again when he’s apparently been a little down about it. He’ll have to talk to Emma about this later, to let her know what’s going on, and maybe they’ll be able to figure out a better way to talk to him about everything than his on the fly conversation with Henry. He also needs to tell her that today is definitely not the day to tell Henry about Neal. They’ve been working on that ever since they found out Emma was pregnant, and it was finally going to happen this afternoon. They had this whole plan, something researched and practiced and thought through, but if Henry’s struggling with a little jealousy, now is not the time for him to find out that Killian isn’t actually his father.

It’s never going to be easy, especially for Emma and Henry, but they have to do it. Henry deserves to know about Neal. Neal’s memory deserves to be honored through his son. It’s a difficult balance for him to not step on toes, to make sure that he does what’s right for Henry. He’s not his biological father. He never will be. But that’s their life, and biology doesn’t mean a damn thing to him when he loves this kid as much as anything.

But Henry should also get to know about his biology and all of the sacrifices and love that Neal made and gave for Henry and for their country in general.

He should know that his dad is a hero.

Just not today.

“Alright,” he sighs, handing Henry a bowl of mixed berries while he holds the eggs and his tea, “let’s go sit with Mum and make her feel better.”

Henry nods his head before running up the stairs, nearly dropping his bowl, but he catches himself and busts through their bedroom door, leaving the door wide open as Killian follows in behind him.

“Hey, kid,” Emma greets, sitting up a little bit and flipping the channel to something else, “what are you doing up?”

“Daddy and I made breakfast, but it’s not for you.”

“Really now? Why not?”

“You’re not hungry.” He climbs up onto the mattress and crawls over to Emma, sitting himself right in her side was she wraps her arm around his shoulder. It’s one of his favorite sights in the world, and it gets so much better by the curve of Emma’s stomach under her tank top. “So this is all for me and Daddy.”

“What did we just say about sharing?” He laughs, settling down on the bed as well.

“Oh yeah.” Henry looks from him to looking at Emma who’s got a soft smile on her face as one hand rests on her belly and the other hand messes with Henry’s hair. “My sister and I are going to be best friends like Daddy and Liam, and I’m going to teach her how to play soccer.”

“You are? Do you think she’ll be able to kick goals like you?”

“Maybe not as good as me.”

“She’ll need lots of practice,” Emma laughs. “Soon she’s going to be able to kick my belly, so I think she’s already trying to catch up to you.” “I have to go practice,” Henry gasps, moving to get out of the bed only for Emma to yank him back down and pull him further into his side.

“Not quite yet, kid. I want you to cuddle with me because I love you so much.” “I love you too,” Henry says as he squirms, finally settling into Emma’s side and resting his head against her shoulder. He’s just about to pick up his tea and try to find them something else to watch when Henry looks at him with this big cheesy grin on his face as he loudly whispers, “she does want to cuddle with me.” “I told you so,” he promises as he reaches over to grab Henry’s hand.

-/-

-/-

“I think you might be a bit biased,” she gushes, the sound of Ada faintly filtering through in the background.

“Well, I am rather in love with you.”

“You sentimental sap,” Emma laughs. “I love you too. Let me know when you guys are on the way home, okay?”

“I will.”

When the call ends, he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down more. He needs to get a grip, to ground himself. Emma grounds him, her voice, her face. She steadies him when he’s the furthest thing from steady.

She’s…everything.

He’s overreacting. He has to be. Neal is allowed to live his own life. They’re encouraging him to live his own life, and that’s the thought process he maintains as he sits down in the lobby, completely forgetting about the fact that he needs to go get gas or respond to the rest of his emails. Instead of doing anything productive he sits in silence and watches as people move in and out of the building, the gentle closing of the glass doors followed by the click of heels on the tile, the sound only dying out when they get into the elevator.

That sound is what he focuses on, counting the steps it takes for different people to walk the same distance, and when he looks down at his phone and sees that it’s nearly six, he stands from his chair and makes his way back to the elevator bay, loading onto the cart with a woman and her children who are going to the same floor that he is. Henry is already waiting for him when he gets there, and the smile on his face calms him the slightest bit. He’s happy. That’s good. That means the session went well.

“Hey,” he waves, placing his hand on Henry’s back and guiding him out of the office. “Did you have a nice time? Anything you want to talk about with me?”

“Nope. I already told Dr. Hopper about how we can’t go to Disney World.”

“When your sister is older, kid,” he starts. “When your sister is older.”

Neal is waiting for them in the lobby when they get to the lobby again, his foot tapping against the floor, and even though he’s told himself to drop it, to drop all of the wild thoughts that are running through his mind, he can’t. Neal’s come back just in time for him to not know that he left.

Damn it.

If he had stayed in the lobby he could have seen him coming back.

What would he have said? Where the hell did you go? Why aren’t you in therapy? Is everything okay? Are you hiding something? What’s happening?

(He’s lost his mind and needs to get a grip.)

He could say all of those things. He could. he knows the words, knows how to speak, but none of them fall off of his tongue. He doesn’t want to be accusatory when there’s most likely nothing going on, and he’s going to continue operating that way until he knows for sure. There’s a tentative tightrope that they’re all walking on, and he’s not going to be the one to push them off of it because he’s lost his mind.

So he doesn’t say anything when they get in the car or when they stop and let Henry get a smoothie. He doesn’t say anything when they get home and help Henry do his homework, the two of them trying to explain fractions to him. He doesn’t say anything when they eat dinner, and he doesn’t say anything afterwards when they’re all watching TV while he does eventually finish up working on his emails. And he doesn’t say anything when Henry and Ada are put down to bed.

And he especially doesn’t say anything when he, Emma, and Neal sit down to talk about whether or not Neal is going to take the job in DC.

He is. He wants to do it. He’s determined to do it, to make a difference in the world now that he knows what it’s like to have a second chance at life. And when Emma very tentatively asks him what he wants to do about Henry, Neal tells them that while it’s not ideal, he’ll be happy to come home for every holiday that he can and every weekend that he can and that they don’t have to send Henry to DC by himself. He tells them that he doesn’t want Henry’s life to be disrupted any more than it’s already been. He tells them every single thing that a loving father who both wants to do good for his kid and good for himself would say.

And Killian is positive that he means it. Emma is even more so. She’s so good at reading others, her little superpower developed over years of careful use, and he’s got to trust that she’s able to use it with Neal. He knows that sometimes she can be wrong, but he’d bet that she’s right nearly every time.

He’d trust her over everything.

So while he’s calmed a bit over possibly losing Henry, over Henry being hurt at never seeing his dad (something he’s still worried about if he’s honest with himself), he can’t turn his mind off. He can’t make the thoughts stop, the theories cease from forming, the worries festering. And when they’re in bed and Emma starts trailing her lips up the cords of his neck, instead of melting against her touch, he pulls back, turning his body away from her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks quietly, her voice barely a whisper above the hum of the ceiling fan.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he lies, twisting a bit so that he can see her face, see the worry in her eyes.

“Are you mad at me?”

How can he ever be mad at Emma when he’s mad at himself for thinking that Neal, this man they all love, isn’t telling the full truth? How could he ever be mad at Emma when he’s so mad at himself for nearly every thought he’s had today? How could he…how could he think something so absurd that would hurt everyone he knew if he ever said the words out loud?

How can he be thinking any of this?

“No,” he promises, reaching over to her and resting his thumb in the indent of her chin, making sure that she can see the seriousness in his gaze, “how could I ever be mad at you?”

[time-to-be-awesome]

A day in the life of Amy

Thursday 14th May 2020

Note - I know this is very long and I hope it doesn’t come across as self-obsessed. I was inspired by the Refinery29 Money Diaries which I find fascinating. I love getting a real insight into other people’s lives so maybe other people will find this interesting? Even if they don’t I know I’ll be glad to have this snapshot of this time in my life to look back on later.

I am 28 years old and live in Yorkshire, England. I live on my own in a rented 1 bedroom flat. I am a mental health social worker but have been working from home during lockdown. I am currently trying to lose weight and get fitter. This is a day in my life.

7:30am Alarm goes off. I spend a couple of minutes checking the BBC coronavirus morning update whilst I wake up. Have a big glass of chilled water and take my tablets for my underactive thyroid. I get dressed into workout leggings and a baggy t-shirt, put on a hoody and a light coat. I make a coffee in my travel mug.

8:00am I set off on my morning walk. The rules were changed this week so I can now exercise outside for an unlimited amount of time, whereas I was previously having to stick to once a day for about an hour. I am very lucky to live close to a big area of interconnected woods and fields that are public access. People have been painting stones and leaving them along the side of the footpaths. There are new ones almost every day, and other people move them to make it a sort of treasure hunt. There isn’t a cloud in the sky and I feel my spirits lift immediately as I walk in the sun and drink my coffee. I listen to the birdsong and as I get to a remote patch of brambles I walk very slowly and quietly. I’m rewarded with the sight of 12 wild rabbits grazing and hopping about before they inevitably spot me and scurry away.

8:50am I get back home. I tracked the walk on the Mapmywalk app and it tells me I burnt 258 calories, but the main benefit is getting the fresh air and a positive start to my day. I make my regular breakfast – one protein weatabix with milk, low-fat greek yoghurt, a chopped banana, mixed berries, and a sprinkle of a seed mix.

9:00am I set up my work laptop on my dining table and log in. I finish eating my breakfast whilst going through my emails and making a to-do list for the day. My first task is to write up a review that I did recently with a service user. It was a very positive review, they have been building their independence and can now manage their daily life with much less involvement from carers. I phoned the care agency to check their rates and then update the support plan with the new lower weekly cost. I call the service user to let them know that the change has been made and we agree that it is time for me to end my involvement. I spend the rest of the morning writing a closing summary of all the case work I have done with them since I was allocated a year ago.

12:15pm I’m already in my workout clothes so I get out my exercise mat and use my lunch break to complete day 2 of Chloe Ting’s Summer Shred Challenge. Today there are four videos including the warm up and cool down and it takes me an hour in total. I mostly do the modified versions but even following the video I can’t begin to fathom how to do a side plank hip abduction! I take sips of water throughout and by the time I’ve finished I’ve drunk two pints. I don’t have a fitness tracker so I don’t track the calories burnt by these workouts.

1:15pm Lunch break is technically over, but working from home has to have some perks and I think a bit of flexibility on working hours is one of those. I have a quick shower and get changed into my ‘day’ leggings and baggy t-shirt. I don’t have to do any video calls so there’s no need to look professional and its comfort all the way. I make my lunch – cut up veggies with hummus, some rice crackers and a triangle of cheese. I’ve very hungry by now so eat quite quickly. Not satisfied so I also have a packet of sweet chilli multigrain wave crisps and a glass of diet cloudy lemonade.

1:35pm I log back on to my laptop. Unfortunately three of my service users have passed away from Covid-19 in the past few weeks so I email the team admin so the records can be updated with their date of death. I had spent a lot of one to one time with one of the gentleman and I feel upset and guilty that he passed away after moving to a care home that I had helped organise. I ring his son to offer my condolences and share a happy memory of the gentleman.

2:00pm I phone a placement to follow up a safeguarding referral. A service user was given an extra dose of medication, but it didn’t have any negative effect and the managers have discussed it with the staff member responsible. Determined that no further action was needed. Discussed how the placement was going in general and there were no other issues and no further role for me. I’d been due to close the case anyway so I wrote up another closing summary.

3:30pm I decide I need a snack, partly because I’m hungry but also because I want a bit of a break. I’ve been using up the food I had in the house so I don’t have many options and go for two digestive biscuits. I start typing up a mental capacity assessment that I completed over the phone. The service user in question isn’t able to make the decision themselves whether they should have home care or not. Part of the job is making the decision of what is in the person’s best interest and they don’t always agree with that. This has caused a lot of issues for this person in the past and I’m not feeling very optimistic about their situation.

4:30pm My concentration has gone out the window. I start thinking about what I’ll make for dinner. I usually make a batch of something on a Monday that’s enough for 4 or 5 portions and I just have to heat it up, but I’ve already run out of my last batch cook. I have most of the ingredients for a bean pot so make a shopping list of the other things I’ll need.

5:00pm I log off from my work laptop, switch my leggings for jeans, and head out for another walk. I want to put some space between my work day and my free time. Whilst I’m walking I phone my mum and we have a good 45 minute catch up. She hadn’t been feeling very well and said talking to me really cheered her up so I’m glad I did.

5:45pm I go to the supermarket on the way home. My closest store is a Lidl and it’s generally pretty well stocked now that everyone has stopped panic buying. I get the ingredients I need, as well as some bits for breakfasts and lunches, and I impulse bought a house plant. Total spend was £22.37. When I get back home the Mapmywalk app tells me that I burnt 338 calories.

7:00pm I put the shopping away and sat down for a second and suddenly it’s 7. I start making the bean pot following a random recipe I found online. Don’t realise until it’s too late that it calls for 50 minutes of simmering time, but that is a fairly typical move for me. Whilst I’m waiting I put some laundry away and have a general tidy up.

9:00pm Dinner is finally ready! I created it as a recipe on Myfitnesspal and it came out as 700 calories per portion. In total today I’ve eaten 1551 calories and burnt 596 through exercise. I eat my dinner whilst watching Lucy Wood’s latest youtube video. Her videos honestly feel like catching up with a friend, even if that does make me sound like an internet weirdo!

9:30pm I put on an ASMR video from TingTing ASMR. The soft whispering and trigger sounds are very relaxing and the best ones make my scalp tingle. I’d jotted down some notes about my day as I went along so I make them into this post. If I hadn’t spent so long making dinner I probably would have watched a Disney film. I’m watching the Disney Classics in order and the next one will be Sleeping Beauty.

10:30pm I’m going to put this post on tumblr then put my laptop and phone away so I don’t get too distracted. I’ll read for about 30 minutes, my current book is ‘Once upon a river’ by Dianne Setterfield. I usually end up going to sleep 11- 11:30pm, ready to do it all again tomorrow!