#bonus is that his beloved dog lays next to him

[merriblu]

The coziest boy on the block

[imalwaystiredzzz]

Ｃ3： Ｔｏ Ｓｉｎｇ ｔｈｅ ｓａｍｅ ｏｌｄ ｈｙｍｎ

WARNING:  explicit not SFW, Sexual content, yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, noncon, blood, gore

< To sing the same old hymn chapters >

"This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

Sukuna stumbles upon a village of lowly farmers, he finds it amusing that they begged and would offer him even their beloved daughters in exchange for their lives. He remembers the shrine and the devout maiden.

This time the curse plays god, he lets them live in exchange for a temple fit for a king and a sacrificial maiden every summer and winter. He imagines them crumbling in despair in a year or two, slowly succumbing to the madness of having all this blood in their hands but the lowly village thrives.

In the third life, (y/n) was born in a rich village who worshipped a god that descended from heaven and resided in the temple at the mountain. In exchange for safety and prosperity, the village would offer him a maiden and keep the temple clean.

These sacrifices were bred from the noble family of (l/n), the girls from a young age groomed to be the idea of a perfect woman fitting to be offered to a god. There was no love for the god that your family honored, but fear that resides in your heart. Deep in your bone, you know this is a lie, your sisters were not taken to the heavens by god.

The cicadas sing in summer, as you wear a red Furisode , the flowers blooming in the sleeves like a garden. Your mother thinks red is your color, you don't tell her you prefer the color of the sakura. Your older brothers giggle and talk of how lucky you are to see god, they were picked for birthing the next generation. All eyes are turned to you as the festival for your coming of age began.

Everyone asks what you may wish for and it will be given today, you simply smile and continue to eat small treats, it feels too much like the final supper. You couldn't stomach any food.

When evening came, you were garbed in the finest of fabric you've only seen your cousins, aunts and an older sister wear. It extremely resembled that of a Miko's attire, you hope to bring something to remind of home but tradition doesn't allow it and yet underneath the layers of cloth, you hold a temari ball. The small sounds it makes when the pavilion jolts bring comfort from the fear that's making the tips of your finger shake.

Imagine his surprise when he sees you again in the flesh. Sukuna believes in reincarnation as much as he believes in the existence of gods. Garbed in beautiful robes, the (h/c) woman prostates herself before him. He's amused, here you were offered like a lamb once more.

Sukuna thinks that if gods other than him did exist they must be extremely cruel to curse your soul for a sin he had made. So this time, because he was your god he would grace you with a different torment.

So he doesn't kill you, the curse keeps you isolated in the huge temple. There was the blind errand boy to give you supplies and clean the place once a month, yet he avoids even your shadow lest he wants to incur the wrath of a god.

You feel like you were forgetting how words worked as you haven't talked to a soul since a month of coming here.

It makes you stir crazy and childhood nightmares were resurfacing, waking in the middle of the night wide eyed. You were unsure if it was the same monster or your mind was replacing it with the four limbed god. In the middle of the night, when the marked god wasn't back you would go out and play with the temari ball. It reminds you of home, the bells bring comfort.

Your god, comes and goes on a whim but never stays too long. Sukuna simply checks how you were, with the bonus of hearing your gasp and cries as he takes you to bed - he never did get the pleasure of hearing those pretty lips wail in your first life.

But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

He get's bored, sometime he contemplates how he'll kill or torture you on the way back to the temple but remembers how you died at his hand the last time. He has yet to meet an interesting toy, the way you interest him.

The cicadas were singing as the heat season ended, the nights were becoming colder and longer. He hears bells, and wonders to it like a moth to a lamp only to stumble upon the (h/c) girl playing in the empty lot, her (e/c) brimming with life and nostalgia.

He slowly frequents the shrine now, from the monthly visits he makes a point to show up at least twice. Sukuna enjoys how you prostrate yourself when he comes, those pretty eyes becoming duller following his form as he goes out the room, the slight hints of clinging. He likes that.

The curse endulge the idea of having you follow him like a god, to sing those hymns and praises in his name, for you to devote yourself to him like he was your world.

Sukuna was selfish and he only knows how to take and take and take.

The snow falls outside the shrine, the sound of footsteps and ring of bells from the familiar pavilion, Sukuna waits for the next sacrifice with you by his side pouring sake. You'd rather be here than alone.

A girl prostrates herself before the god, wearing the same clothes you once don. You'd rather be by his side than alone.

He tears her limb from limb, she cries for help, an arm reaching out to you before being torn and eaten. The floor is red with the same blood that flows in your veins, the devil enjoys his meal.

You'd rather be with the devil than the ringing silence that makes you mad.

He tears your clothes and has his way with your body, next to the mutilated body of your little sister. Tears gathering in the corner of your eye at the unprepared penetration, you wonder how you'll get the blood out of your hair.

The devil likes this too. He keeps you like how one keeps a trained pet.

He stays in the temple a bit longer now, Sukuna boasts about his carnage while drinking sake that you pour for him. You have no stories to tell, and he's not interested. Sometimes he forgets about the first life, sometimes it bothers him.

He tests the water and asks about past lives, but all you can tell him is that you dream of a four armed god, omitting that these weren't just dreams but a nightmare that had his face as the monster. Sukuna was sure that those dreams are memories of the first.

He likes that too. He must have left an imprint on your soul, wouldn't that brand you as his?

More seasons come and go, you count the year by counting the death of your kin but nothing changes.

There was only you, the big empty temple and the four armed god that you worship. You slowly forgot what the outside looks like, but that didn't matter all that mattered was god favors you and keeps you by his side. You cling to him, the way he wants you to. Your now pale hands can't feel anything and the nightmares never stop.

You grew on him, quite like how an owner grows to favor a pet dog.

(Y/n) lasts 7 years before falling sick.

The cicadas sing as you lay on the futon sweating and breathing heavily, you stare at the window the sun is gone. You hear a familiar bell, Sukuna places the temari ball beside your bed, he leaves you to suffer a slow painful death of starvation and sickness.

Sukuna has no use for a sick pet.

He feels a tinge of regret but doesn't linger on it.

He burns the village before the sun rises.

*Furisode : is a ceremonial clothes in Japan for coming of age, coming of age is when a girl begins her menstruation

*Mikos : are shrine maidens, they wear a white top that looks like a yukata and a red hakama. >For visuals in the movie "Your Name," Mitsuha wears these clothes when she was dancing.

*Temari balls are hand balls made by parents and given to children on new year. It can have decorations like bells and contain a parent's wish inside. >The temari ball that you received from mother contains a wish that you die at a young age or swiftly when you're offered.

*Mother, father and the whole village knows what happens to the girls, but she can't say anything coz she's the matron of the family. Sacrifice children are left in religious ignorance.

*Your family often gives birth to females (that's why they were chosen) and the males are required to have many many children since sacrifices take 2 kids a year. That's taking into account you have many uncles and aunts.

[paperbagpetrichor]

hey! since it’s joot’s bday, can i request him and the reader celebrating his bday?? 💕 thank you! btw i love your writing it’s so good 🥺💖💖

[ Pushed this one into priority since it’s his birthday - don’t worry, I’m still working on other requests! c: ]

When you awoke that morning, a smile upon your face, heart racing and mind buzzing with plans, ideas, speculations, hopes and dreams and wonders, it was as instantaneous as a nerve synapse sending a jolt of excitement throughout your body, reminding you over and over (although you certainly didn’t require the reminder) that today was one of the most important days of the year.  The man of the day lay awake beside you, sitting up with his bedside lamp on, browsing through a marine biology magazine.  By the sleep in his eyes you could tell he hadn’t been awake for very long - good news for you.  He didn’t so much as have a cup of coffee yet, and you committed that fact to memory as you hesitantly emerged from under the covers, gaining his attention.  “Good morning, birthday boy,” you greeted with a grin, leaning over his chest to catch a glimpse of his reading material.  Most of the words were a foreign language to you, but that didn’t matter, so long as he was content with them, which, you noted, he was, between your glances up and him and down at the magazine.  You liked the pictures.  You could understand those.  Marine life truly was beautiful, even if you didn’t understand all the ins and outs of it all.  

You didn’t receive a response save for a small pat on your head, a hand running through your hair, and a small noise of approval from Jotaro, who never once broke contact with the magazine.  To him, this was bliss.  You fixed yourself back to your side of the bed, slinging your legs off the side and preparing to hop out only for his voice to stop you in your tracks.

“Where are you going?” his voice was still raspy from resting, and your head tilted to the side, opening your mouth to reply only for him to continue, “Stay with me for a little longer.”  The words melted your conflicted heart, whose tug-of-war between ideas was easily overcome by his request, and you smiled, more than happy to oblige, settling your head against his chest in an area he’d lifted his arm from, mechanically forming a spot for you to sync into him without second thought, you falling against him and his arm wrapping around you.  Coffee could wait, then.  Jotaro wasn’t the biggest cuddler in the world, but nevertheless he enjoyed your presence against him, even if his attention wasn’t completely devoted to you: just knowing that you were there, against him, irremovable and irreplaceable, was more than enough.  Your eyes followed his across the pages, diverging whenever a picture appeared.  Every now and then you’d recognize a fish from prior marine magazines or photographs, and, with great enthusiasm, would ask Jotaro if it was indeed the animal you thought it was.  With every correct answer he would give a nod and something like pride would bloom in his eyes.  In this volume, a variety of aquarium-ready species were being analyzed, most of which you knew, but every now and then a new surprise leaping up.  You’d ask what it was, and Jotaro would tell you the name, in addition to what it liked, the tank requirements, salinity levels, chemical balances, pH and hardness requirements, and ideal temperatures and habitats for it.  The sound of his stoic, confident voice fell like a beautiful song of tranquility against your ears.  

Eventually, upon reaching the second to last page, you shot up, a squeal escaping you.  Whatever that was, it was adorable!  “Jotaro, which one is this?” you inquired with puppy-dog eyes, guiding his view over to the specific picture with your pointer finger, staring up at him and awaiting a reply.

A corner of his lip tugged up.  “You like that one?  It’s a dog-faced pufferfish.”

“A dog-faced pupperfish?”  Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion as you examined it closer.  It did have a face reminiscent of a dog, but….“Isn’t that a little redundant?”

“Pufferfish,” he corrected, his chest rumbling against your body in a small snort dangerously close to forming a laugh.  He took your hand in his and guided it to the footnotes section of the page.  “They tell you here.  Good grief…”

You chuckled in response, a flush rising to your cheeks and planting a kiss on the bottom of his jawline as you slowly pulled away.  This time, he allowed you to do so, and you slipped out of the room and into the kitchen, taking two mugs and filling them with Jotaro’s favorite coffee blend, fixing it up just the way he liked it, before calling him out to the dining room after you’d finished making his favorite breakfast.  He wasn’t much of a morning person, or a night person, or an evening person, or - wait, where were you going with this?  Your thoughts were quelled as he emerged in the doorframe and took a seat next to you.  “Thanks.”

“Of course,” you replied, warmth radiating into you from his presence, watching as he dug in only for you to do the same.  A quiet morning like this was sometimes uncommon, so you thanked whatever greater spirit that may or may not have run the universe that today was such a day.  He deserved nothing less than perfection on his birthday.  And you were determined to deliver it.  After you were done and the dishes put into the sink, you began to implement your plan.  

Your first stop was the city aquarium.  Not the local one - that was way too small, and you knew it.  Besides, you were pretty certain Jotaro had already memorized all the types of fish there, and that wouldn’t be as fun as experiencing a new one.  You’d never been yourself, but it was huge.  As you and Jotaro strolled through, he’d occasionally point out a species or two per each exhibit, going over its basic information, only for you to point to a good four or five with childlike animation and ask if he knew what they were.  Usually he had some idea, but it was cute when he didn’t.  He’d rest his head in his hand, index finger lining against the bottom of his lip as he thought it over, only to give you a shrug as an answer.  Just as quickly as you were willing to put his knowledge to the test he was ready to do the same with you.  He made sure to pick easy ones, ones that almost everybody knew, giving you a nod every time you got one right (and bonus points if you could describe the species in more depth besides its name).  The way that you stood on your tip-toes or knelt down was adorable to him as you attempted to face the fish.  It was like you were saying hello to them, always offering a smile, before turning with your final verdict back to Jotaro for judgement.  When you messed up, it was usually with more difficult species, and you’d always pout without his praise, to which he would offer you his knowledge, and you would commit it to memory.  He hadn’t known where he was going when he initially got in the car with you.  Of course, he knew it was his birthday, the first one he would be sharing with you, but he was honestly surprised at how far out of your way you’d gone for him so far.  To some, that might not have been much, but it was everything to him.  There was nothing better than enjoying his most beloved hobby with his most beloved person in the entire world.  Usually his birthdays were just like any other day, he saw no purpose to elevating it as though it had some special purpose, of course, he knew you would’ve been planning something or other.  

As the two of you neared the end of the exhibits, a familiar face caught your attention, and you dashed off from Jotaro, who had lost you within the blink of an eye, narrowing his eyes and searching for you only to find you at the last tank, where you were bent over and fawning over something he couldn’t see.  “Jotaro!  Look, it’s the dog-faced pufferfish!”

He settled in step beside you, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning forwards to get a better view of the reason you were so elated.  Even he had to admit it was pretty cute.  And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t considered setting up an aquarium of his own, maybe in your bedroom, with marine life of its own, including if not especially those beautiful ‘pupperfish,’ as you had decided to call them.  The fish followed your face as you moved about its tank, keeping speed with you as though it never wanted your face to disappear, wiggling its tail as though a thrilled elementary-schooler at the sight of candy.  The fish’s disposition was reflected in you, a giant grin plastered over your face as you watched it.  “Do you like them?” you queried, taking a step back and instead fixing your expression back on your boyfriend.

“They’re interesting,” he replied, which was basically his way of saying ‘yes.’  He cast you a glance before beginning to walk off, you trailing behind him as you asked where the two of you were going next.  You already had a place in mind, but for whatever reason Jotaro seemed determined to designate the next choice to himself, and, as it was his birthday, you relented.  Whatever he wanted was what you wanted.  

To your surprise, he took you to an aquarium store.  You’d both visited often to look at the fish and plan for tanks together one day, Jotaro making up most of the compositions, of course, as you were still very clearly a novice with respects to fishkeeping, and you were rather excited to be there once more until your phone shook in your pocket.  You flicked it on and nearly threw it across the room.  Of course.  Of all the times your gift could have been ready, it was now.  Right as you walked into the place that had made it.  And, of course, as soon as the two of you began making your rounds, one of the workers called out your name.  Jotaro cast you a confused gaze as you followed the employee, him deciding to let you sort out whatever business you had there, the nature of which he couldn’t so much as put a finger upon.  

Well.  You’d planned to show it to him when it would arrive at your house, but, as the worker regretfully informed you, the only vehicle capable of such a large delivery was currently out of commission.  Basically, you were left with two options.  Give Jotaro his present in the presence of plenty of others, or show it to him at your house presumably days after the actual celebration was over.  Wonderful.  You pleaded with the employee, who simply shook her head and attempted to explain there wasn’t the slightest possibility that the two-hundred-gallon tank would fit in any of their sedans.  Admittedly you knew it wasn’t their fault, but you hated the fact that either way you’d have to ruin his gift like this.  

Just as Jotaro was beginning to head over to you, you stuck your head out from behind the aisle of custom-made tanks with various home-carved wood finishings, offering him a nervous grin.  “Hey, Jotaro, I’ve got something to show you over here.”

The tone of your voice and confusion within your own expression slightly startled him, but he gave you a nod and rounded the corner, only to be greeted with one of the most beautiful aquariums he’d ever laid eyes on.  The wood trimmings, stand, and cover were all a dark brown, embroidered with a small pattern of waves along the tops and bottoms, running the full length of the gigantic tank.  Tall drawers, perfect for sump storage, equipment placing, and settling food drew the bottom compartment into three sections, while atop the glass cover just beneath the chestnut top lay two LED lights, both with a variety of settings to encourage different aspects of aquarium growth.  He’d taken you here to get a small tank (big enough for the desired fish to be comfortable, of course) for your bedside, spurred by your reaction at the aquarium and how fond you were of his hobby, but now he was completely and totally at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry.  This isn’t exactly the ideal place to give you your gift, but I couldn’t get it delivered today, and I didn’t want it to be late,” you apologized, folding your hands in front of you nervously as you took a few steps back, showcasing the full size of the tank.  “But you were always talking about how you wanted an aquarium in the bedroom, so I thought I could get one customized for us.  I didn’t know what size, but I stole one of your books to get the dimensions needed for your favorite species,” you chuckled, trepidation still causing your voice to waver as you took in the unchanged expression of your boyfriend.  

He took a step toward you and, much to your surprise, slung his arm around your neck, a somewhat stunned incredulous (well, subtly surprised, but that was pretty much ‘shocked’ under Jotaro standards) look overcoming his face as he took it all in once more.  This was his?  That was where his book had gone?  You’d prepared all of this?  For him?  “[Y/n],” he began, and you tensed, awaiting some sort of disappointment, “thank you.  This is beautiful.”

You gave him a relieved hug.  “Of course!  It’s your birthday, after all.  I’m just sorry we have to wait to get it home.”

“Just knowing you did this - that it’s even here - is enough for me,” he responded lowly, hugging you to his side for a moment before letting go and heading back to the fish aisles

With befuddlement, you stumbled on after him, asking, “Wait, wait, what are you doing?” as you struggled to catch up with his long legs.

“Well, we have a tank.  I think some planning is next,” he replied, gesturing towards the vast variety of marine animals the store housed.  You broke into a smile and joined him.

Your eyes were absolutely taken by the gorgeous rainbow of colors that lay before you, everything from live rock to corals to fish to invertebrates, horseshoe crabs sifting through the sand in the brackish exhibits and gobies sticking their heads out from their holes in sync with their shrimp companions.  Where would the two of you even start?  Sure, you’d planned for Jotaro’s favorites, but he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming with those ideas, so a great deal of it was left to the imagination.  

The both of you drew to a halt at a familiar sight.  You let out an enthralled gasp, suddenly forgetting everything around you at the view of the tank, watching those sweet faces press against the glass to meet yours.

Jotaro’s chuckle was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.  “Then we’re starting with a dog-faced puffer.”  

[emisfritish]

Puppy eyes make everything paw-ssible - Part 4

Pairing: Sarawat/Tine (2gether the series)

Summary: Retraces the journey of how Charlotte came to be the most beloved member of the Guntithanon/Teepakorn household.

Chapters: 4/6 (although each part can be read as a stand alone).

Previous parts : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Notes: Because we all know Sarawat can be a dramatic little shit, and Tine can be the reasonable one, have this installment. Bonus Earn cameo because I needed her sassy self somewhere in this fic. No actual puppy eyes in this one, because Charlotte is too busy sleeping and making her father panic. 

Sarawat refuses to take his eyes off of her. 

Since Sarawat entered back into the apartment and immediately noticed the lack of Charlotte greeting him excitedly at the door, his eyes instantly made it to the lying form of his dog, currently laying on her mat like she has been for the past 15 minutes since he came home, and he refuses to let her out of his sight yet, worry pitting in his stomach and the only thing keeping him sane being the small movements he can see her belly make with her breathing. 

He knows he’s being stupid right now, and that it’s very likely that nothing is wrong, but he can’t help the worry that is piling in his stomach and he can’t stop his heart from beating fast in his chest.

Ever since Charlotte had come home with them, there hadn’t been one day where she hadn’t been at the door to greet him or Tine as soon as they made it back. And the fact that today she’s just laying down, seemingly sleeping… Let’s just stay that Sarawat is worried, to put it mildly. 

It’s probably nothing, and it’s very likely that Charlotte is just resting but… What if it was actually something ? What if something is wrong and she’s not ok ?

He moves quietly, laying down on his front on the floor just in front of her dog pad so he can observe her tiny belly moving up and down, and stays there until he hears the front door opening. 

“Hello ! Uhm… Wat ?” he hears Tine ask wearily. 

Sarawat knows he needs to be careful about how he says what he’s about to say to Tine. He loves Charlotte, and he doesn’t want Tine to be unnecessarily worried or scared if this is just him over-reacting. Still, he’s also kind of freaking out right now and seeing as Tine knows a lot more about dogs than he does, he needs to share his concerns with him so that they can take action if needed. 

“I think Charlotte might be dying,” is what he settles on saying, and he hears Tine’s gasp from the door, as well as someone sighing. 

Ok, maybe that was a bit overly dramatic. And so much for not worrying Tine. 

“Sarawat, she just looks like she’s sleeping to me. What are you even going on about ?” Tine asks him from the door after a few seconds of silence, which he has probably spent looking at Charlotte to check that she was actually ok. 

Sarawat doesn’t feel comfortable letting Charlotte out of his sight yet, so he answers back without taking the time to turn towards Tine. 

“She could be sleeping. Or she could be dying. What are we going to do Tine ?” he asks, his voice breaking in the middle of his question, panic beginning to pull him under. 

“So I’m going to let you deal with that situation then,” he hears another voice say sarcastically, and he turns towards the door, surprised to find Earn there with Tine. 

Before Sarawat has the time to answer, Tine turns to Earn, a betrayed look on his face. 

“But he’s your best friend, you can’t leave now !” Sarawat hears him say indignantly.

“He is, but he’s your boyfriend. And that definitely trumps friendship. I’ll come and talk to him about our new song tomorrow. So have fun dealing with his meltdown ! My perfect, sweet and sane Pear is waiting for me at home,” he says with a mocking smile, before turning around and leaving. 

Sarawat frowns and watches her back get smaller as she walks away. He wonders what song she wanted to talk to him about, but he quickly pushes the thought away from his mind. He doesn’t have the mental power to deal with it right now anyway. Yes, he is aware she’s mocking him, but Charlotte might be dying and there are priorities to have in life. 

He turns back to Tine when he hears his boyfriend sigh, and close the door, before he makes his way closer to Sarawat. 

“Okay Wat, what’s going on? She’s just asleep,” he says, amusement clear on his face while he sits on the floor next to Sarawat, crossing his legs to make himself more comfortable. 

“I know it may be ridiculous, but she’s barely moved since I came back home. As soon as I cross the door, Charlotte is usually on me in a second and today… What if something is wrong with her ?” he asks, eyeing Tine from where he’s still lying on the floor. 

“Wat, babe…” Tine sighs. He ruffles Sarawat’s hair, causing him to scrunch his nose, before he goes to do the same to Charlotte. 

Charlotte is obviously not in the mood to be bothered by her owners right now, since she lets out a small yap at Tine interrupting her sleep, before wiggling on her mat, rearranging herself so she’s facing away from Tine and Sarawat. 

When he sees her turn around on the mat and hears her small lively bark, Sarawat feels relief rush over him, and he drops his entire body, forehead resting on the floor. 

“Had you not roused her to check she was ok ? You know she’s a dog and not a baby, you can in fact wake up her to check she’s okay if you’re worried,” Tine tells him, laughter evident in his voice. 

“God, I’m such an idiot,” he sighs, and he hears Tine let out a small laugh. He hadn’t wanted to disturb her in case she really wasn’t feeling well, but in hindsight, Sarawat can’t believe how much of an idiot he’d been, instantly panicking instead of calmly checking her out. 

“Not an idiot, just a worried dog father,” Tine teases him, and Sarawat turns his face towards him to frown. 

“She’s a dog Tine, not our daughter,” he scoffs. 

“Want to tell me why your brain skipped all the logical explanations like the fact that she was sleeping, and jumped straight to ‘our dog is dying’ ?” Tine asks, completely ignoring his previous comment. 

“I don’t know,” he sighs in answer, before he lifts up a bit, rearranging his body so he can lie down on his back, still on the floor, but with his head in Tine’s lap this time. Much more comfortable.

One of Tine’s hands immediately starts caressing his hair and scratching his scalp, and Sarawat feels his heartbeat start to slow down for the first time since he came home earlier. 

“I’m just…,” he closes his eyes, not quite knowing how to express what he feels exactly. How Sarawat, in his life, has had few people or things that he’s loved truly. How opening up their home for Charlotte has meant someone new for him to love, and therefore someone new that he could lose. How ever since he got with Tine, and now that they have Charlotte, he’s been the happiest he’s ever been in life and that means something has to give eventually, right ? Because that’s not how life usually works out for Sarawat. 

He’s still trying to figure out how to voice all of this, but it seems like he doesn’t need to because he feels Tine’s lips on his forehead, his boyfriend pressing a soft kiss there before he caresses his cheek. 

“I get it Wat,” he says softly, and it’s true that Tine does know him better than he knows himself sometimes nowadays. 

The words prompt Sarawat to open his eyes back up and stare at him. 

“But you know, sometimes, things work out. Think about what you always tell me. Our life is a movie, right ? Well this is finally us having our happy ending, our Marley and Me moment.”

“The dog dies, in Marley and Me,” he ends up reminding Tine, recalling his boyfriend bawling his eyes out for hours after the movie ended when they watched it when they first got together a couple years ago.

“God, when did you get this cute ?” Tine laughs in answer, bending down to press a kiss to Sarawat’s pouty lips. “Then think of our lives more as like… Beethoven, rather than Marley and Me.” 

Sarawat stays silent for a few seconds, mulling things over. In a way, he has to admit it does kind of fit, with Tine being as excitable as the kids in that movie, and him being as reticent as the father in the movie, before eventually falling in love with the dog too. 

“Charlotte looks nothing like that dog,” he ends up saying to be contrary, and he sees Tine shake his head fondly. 

“Sarawat, everything’s going to be fine, and I promise right now, Charlotte is just sleeping after having stayed up all night to wreak havoc in our living room,” he consoles him, and Sarawat does have to admit he has a point. Destroying all 6 of their kitchen rolls during the night certainly did take some time, after all. 

He looks up at Tine and nods in acceptance, reassured by his boyfriend’s words, and Tine smiles brightly back at him. 

“By the way, seeing as Charlotte is asleep right now…” Tine starts to say. “I do seem to recall saying I would make it up to you when Charlotte kept interrupting us a couple weeks ago,” he finishes with a teasing smile. 

It takes a couple seconds for Sarawat to recall the scene and understand what his boyfriend is implying right now, but as soon as he does he sits up from his perch in Tine’s lap and jumps to his feet, offering his hand down to Tine to lift him up as well. 

“Let’s go,” he says excitedly, prompting Tine to laugh again. 

“Who knew I actually had two puppies in the house ?” Tine mocks him, while he follows Sarawat who’s pulling him towards their bedroom. “I swear if you had a tail it would be wagging back and forth right now.”

“Shut up nuisance, and come quickly before she wakes up,” he replies, pulling Tine in the bedroom after him and closing the door. “And I hope you appreciate the restraint I’m displaying right now, holding off on the ‘tail’ innuendos after you left this one wide open.”

“Saraleo !” Tine exclaims, falsely outraged, before he is cut off by Sarawat’s mouth landing on his, preventing any further words from leaving his mouth. 

Now that he’s reassured about the fact that Charlotte will indeed be ok, Sarawat can think of much better ways they can occupy their dog-free moment rather than talk. And with the promise of Tine making it up to him…. Well. Let’s just say Sarawat hopes Charlotte stays asleep for a little while longer.

[kookadoodle]

Absence Make The Heart Grow Faint

PLOT: A misstep leads to you calling up your grandparents’ veterinarian, who is no other than Kim Seokjin himself.

PAIRING: Seokjin x reader GENRE: fluff, comedy, E2L!AU WARNINGS: mild chocolate poisoning (dog) WORDCOUNT: 6.7k A/N: ended up writing uwu stuff again x

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When your grandparents told you that they were planning to go on a cruise this summer, you knew what that would entail. Being their most trusted and beloved granddaughter (since you are their only one but that is irrelevant), you knew that they were going to ask you to housesit and look after their golden retriever, Daisy. And of course, you said yes. Not only is Daisy the best and your grandparents the nicest but their beach house is definitely the coziest place, you have ever been. Sunny, relaxing and cabinets filled to the brim with snacks and sodas. How could you say no? Impossible. As you get comfortable in the Uber you ordered, you think back on all the memories you have made at the house. You have spent a lot of summers at their beach house growing up, playing badminton in their backyard and going swimming in the ocean, whenever you liked. It was truly some of the best times you have had, and you remember them fondly. But visiting your grandparents has always come with a price, and there is one person, in particular, to thank for that. A boy, who would never leave you alone despite your complaints against him. He always had such a cocky attitude, and your insults would repel off him as bullets would a bulletproof hero. If only he knew the insane comparison that you are making in your thoughts. He is not a hero at all, but he would hold it against you if he had heard, claiming that you see him as one. You can just imagine the stupid look on his face. The look he always wore around you that tainted your beautiful memories. Going back now after so long, you hope that you will not run into him again. Considering the kind of boy that he was, who knows what kind of man, he has become.

“Y/N!” your grandmother says joyfully when she sees you stepping out of the car in front of the house. “Come and give me a hug,” she says, stretching out her arms to embrace you. You smile when you hug her since the familiar scent of her perfume brings back the past. It has been a while, so it feels good to see her again. “Was the drive here alright?” she asks as she places her hands on your cheeks and looks at your face. You barely get to answer before she hugs you again. It makes you giggle kind of childishly. Your grandparents always make you feel like a child again. Seeing that the house still looks the same has an impact on your mood as well. Suddenly, Daisy comes running, and you kneel down to greet her. “Hi Daisy!” you smile widely at the sight of her. She might be a bit older now, but she is still a happy and energetic dog. She excitedly licks your hands to show you her love, which you do not mind when it is her. “There she is,” you hear your grandfather say, and you see his warm smile when he approaches the two of you. “There he is,” you reply in the same manner, and he hugs you, making Daisy step back. Being the only granddaughter of theirs, you were spoiled, and whenever your parents would try to set rules for you in their presence, your grandparents would object and allow you to have fun. It made you love them more. Your grandfather briefly caresses your cheek with a kind smile, making you know that he is happy to see you. You smile back the same. It might not have been years since you saw them last, but it has since you were here at the house. It feels good to be back. “Let’s get your bags inside,” your grandmother then says, leading you towards the house while your grandfather follows the two of you with your luggage in hand.

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You carry your bags upstairs to the guestroom and place them down on the floor in front of the full-sized bed with the fresh sheets and big fluffy pillows. It has been upgraded from what you remember, and that is only a nice bonus. The drive here made you quite sleepy, but if you lay down now, you might fall asleep and throw off your rhythm, so you decide to wait even though naps are tough to postpone. You go downstairs and join your grandmother in the kitchen instead. “Would you like a glass?” she asks, referring to the juice that she is pouring herself. “Yes, please,” you say and take out a glass from the cabinet. You place it next to hers, and she pours you some. “You already know everything about the house, but we got a new alarm system that your grandfather will take you through later. I also wrote it down for you if you forget,” she explains. You nod at her words. “I wrote down the number of the veterinarian we use for Daisy too, just in case you need it,” she adds. “I hopefully won’t, but thanks,” you say and sip your juice. “We already told Seokjin that you are looking after Daisy for a while, and he said that you are welcome to call him about anything if you need him,” your grandmother says, and it makes your expression drop. “Seokjin?” you state surprised when you recognize the name. “Yes, the one you used to play with when you visited here those summers. He has become a very skilled veterinarian and a close friend of ours,” she smiles, oblivious to the fact that his name sends shivers down your spine. “You told him that I was coming here?” you ask with raised brows. “Yes, should I not have?” your grandmother asks worriedly. Seeing the look in her eyes, you decide not to tell her anything. You do not want to unsettle her right before their cruise trip. “No, that’s fine,” you sigh with a smile, hiding your frustration. “I was just surprised that he still remembers me,” you say instead. Her expression lightens again. “Oh yes, he sure does. He often asks us how you are doing,” she says warmly. “A very nice man… and handsome too,” she adds with a playful tone. You tsk, and it makes her chuckle a bit. “I’m sure,” you reply uninterestedly. “But I probably won’t even see him while I’m here since I plan on taking good care of this girl,” you say as you pet Daisy. You take a treat from the jar on the counter, giving it to her. She eats it all up with joy, smiling at you afterward with her tongue hanging out. Such a cutie, you think. “Of course, you two will be fine, but the number is on the fridge if you need it,” your grandmother offers before she takes her juice with her to the backyard. You follow her and spend most of the day with her and Daisy outside, watching your grandfather do yard work.

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The next morning arrives, and it is time for them to leave. After saying goodbye to your grandparents and sending them off, you decide to take Daisy with you down to the beach. The weather is perfect for a quick run. Before you left home, you decided to make it a routine to run every morning with Daisy, since the exercise is good for both of you. You might as well get started. Running towards the beach, you quickly realize how out of shape you are, and even Daisy seems confused. She is used to running with your grandfather, and it is a bit embarrassing to admit that he is a better runner than you. Luckily, he does not need to know that. Daisy will not tell on you. When you reach the waters, you decide to walk for a bit, so you take off your shoes and let your bare feet sink into the sand beneath you with every step. There are only a few people around and none of them have dogs with them, so you decide to let Daisy loose. “Daisy, go swim!” you say and gesture to the ocean, making her run and jump into the water. You catch your breath as you watch her, resting your arms on your hips. Daisy stops and looks at you expectantly from the water. You look around for a stick, and after finding one, you throw it out and let her chase after it. She retrieves it for you, and you throw it out a few more times, playing with her. She loves it. “Well, well,” you hear from behind you, and the familiar voice makes you turn around. Of all people, it is him. Kim Seokjin. You had a feeling that you were going to run into him at one point, so why not now? Just your luck. “I thought, it was you,” he says with a smile as he approaches. You look at him as he steps closer. He has definitely grown up. You remember him as quite a scrawny young boy, but he has become very adult-like with wide shoulders and toned arms. However, he still has his youth, especially in his eyes, which you notice, when he is up close. “Hi,” you say politely. “What are you doing here?” you ask as you notice that he appears to be alone. “Walking with a friend,” he says and gestures further down the coastline to a tall dimpled guy with his white fluffy dog on a leash. The guy is busy looking for something in the rocks. Whether it is shells or maybe crabs, you have no idea. Your gaze returns to the man in front of you. “You seem happy to see me,” Seokjin states sarcastically, making you aware of your own reaction to his approach. Honestly, it fits your mood around him. “Well, it’s been a while,” you say, trying not to be too rude. Luckily, Seokjin is not easily offended. “How long has it been? 7 years or so, right?” he asks casually. It might be long ago, but you still remember how awful it went. Seokjin remembers too but a bit different than you. “Yeah, I guess that’s right,” you confirm with a calm nod. You try to seem busy, but he does not pick up on it. He keeps standing there, and you wait for what he will say next. You are not sure what to expect. “Let’s do something while you’re here, so we can catch up or something,” he suggests as he looks at you, but you do not meet his eyes. You take a breath and decide that it is best to be honest with him from the beginning. “Honestly, Seokjin. We aren’t really friends, so I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say frankly, and as the words leave you, you realize just how rude it is. But to be fair, Seokjin was a pain in the ass back in the day, and you always begged him to leave you alone. He kept following you around all summer, teasing you and it was annoying. You find it hard to believe that he has changed, and his current approach suggests that he has not changed a whole lot. He was not a bad guy or anything, but you just wanted to be by yourself back then, and he did not respect that. Maybe this time he will. “Wow, okay,” he laughs. He knew that the two of you were at odds, but he did not expect you to be like this already. “You really haven’t changed at all, huh?” he grins with disbelief. “Neither have you,” slips from your lips as his comment annoys you. You should not let it get to you, but it does. Seokjin just has a way of getting on your nerves. His smugness does not help. “You don’t even want to give me a chance to surprise you? I might if you’d let me,” he states, wriggling his brows at you as if it makes him more believable. You scoff. “When pigs fly, Seokjin,” you spit back. It makes him laugh, and the sound annoys you. Luckily, it does not reach windshield-level. “You’ll change your mind, Y/N,” he smiles with confidence. Taking it as his cue to leave, he finally steps away and catches up with his friend. “I won’t!” you yell after him, wanting to get the last word, but it is not as satisfying without a response. Typical of him to leave you with that feeling - one of the things that you resent him for. He always wins.

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The days go by pretty quickly and suddenly, Saturday is here. You manage to keep your morning runs going, and you slowly find yourself getting a bit better. Returning home from them gives you a rush of pride and energy, which is nice. But on the 5th day, the weather starts to change. You look out the window and see that it is pouring down and quite windy outside. “Guess it means a short walk today, Daisy,” you say, and Daisy sits by your feet and looks up at you, tilting her head at your words. She gets up when you take a step, and she knows where you are going. As promised, the walk is quite short because of the weather. You had planned to take Daisy with you into town but seeing the rain splash against the ground makes you reconsider. Maybe a day at home is not so bad. After the walk, you decide to clean up the house before getting comfortable on the couch with the book, you brought. At least bad weather is good reading weather, so it is not entirely useless. Daisy lays next to you with her head on your thigh as you read. You brought some dark chocolate with you from the kitchen, and it is lying on the coffee table before you, opened and ready to be eaten. You already cracked it into pieces, making it convenient to eat while you read. A couple of chapters in, you take a break and go to the bathroom. You close the door on Daisy, making her stay outside. Unamused, she runs back to the living room and waits for you. You take your time in there and decide to borrow some of your grandmother’s lotion that she has recommended to you. It smells nice. When you finally return to the couch and plump back down into the seat, you notice that the chocolate wrapping has fallen to the floor. You furrow your brows, wondering how it fell down. You do not remember seeing it fall. Picking it back up, you see that the leftover chocolate is missing. You kneel down to look for it under the table and couch to see if the pieces had slipped out of the wrapping, yet you find nothing but a clean carpet. Weird, you think to yourself. You definitely remember that there were a few pieces left. Daisy jumps up onto the couch, and you sit down next to her. She tries to lick you on the cheek, but you dodge her with a grin, finding her cute. Suddenly, though, as her breath hits you, you smell chocolate on her. You carefully open her mouth to check, and you realize that she must have eaten the chocolate. “Oh no,” you say aloud. This is bad. Chocolate is poisonous to dogs from what you know, and dark chocolate is really bad. “Daisy, are you okay?” you ask worriedly as you look her in the eyes and run your hands against her head to check on her, but you have no idea what to check for. You pull out your phone and search the web for help. You read several pages on what to do, and they all tell you to contact a vet. Apparently, the amount of chocolate that you believe Daisy has eaten is dangerous, considering the amount of cocoa it contains. “Oh, what should I do, huh?” you ask mostly yourself as you pet her. She seems fine right now, but the web says that it can take hours before the effect shows. There is only one thing to do, really, and you absolutely dread it. You have to call Seokjin. Despite your intuition, you dial the number on the fridge and wait for him to pick up. You cannot believe that you are calling him up after you so specifically rejected him a few days ago. It is embarrassing, really, but necessary. At least, you have a reason to call. “Hello, this is Kim Seokjin,” you hear him say. “Seokjin, it’s Y/N. I need to ask you something,” you say a bit abruptly. You sense that he is surprised. “Oh, Y/N. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” he says smugly, proving that he has not forgotten about you at all. You brush it off. “Listen, it’s about Daisy. I think, she ate some dark chocolate just now,” you explain, ignoring his arrogance. He senses the slight panic in your voice. “Really?” he asks at first with disbelief. You sense that he thinks, you have another reason to call than a sick dog. “I’m serious, I think, it’s bad,” you state. Seokjin’s tone changes, when he fails to hear the familiarity in your voice. You are not messing around. “How much did she eat?” he asks in a professional tone. You pick up the wrapper to try and measure it. “I’m not sure, but I think about 2-3 pieces,” you guess. You watch her, and she seems fine for now. However, you cannot help but worry since Daisy is your grandparents’ baby, and you cannot have her blood on your hands. Your mind immediately goes there unwillingly. Seokjin can sense it through the phone. “Okay, listen. Daisy is a big dog so it might not be enough to poison her, but you should keep a close eye on her. If she starts to seem odd, like panting or if she vomits, you call me again, and I’ll come by to treat her,” he explains calmly, yet it does not calm you at all. “But the web says that if she is treated early, she has a better chance. I don’t think, we should take the risk,” you state, and Seokjin can hear the nerves in your voice. He sighs, and you cannot make out why. He takes a moment to reply as if he is thinking his options through. Finally, he speaks again. “Okay, I’ll come by and watch her with you,” he says, and you hear him rising from his seat. “I’ll just drive by the clinic and get some stuff on the way, but it won’t take long, okay?” he explains quite soothingly, even though you sense that he is dissatisfied with the situation. He probably does not want to spend his Saturday with you, but you can say the same about him. It is not like you have a choice, so why should he? “Okay, good,” you say as you sigh a bit relieved. “I’ll see you,” you say and end the call. After hanging up, you sit with Daisy on the couch, not letting her out of your sight. “Don’t worry, girl. Seokjin is on his way,” you tell her comfortingly, but really it is you, who need to hear it. But not because you need him or anything.

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It takes about 25 minutes before Seokjin pounds on the door. You open it up and let him rush inside. You notice that the weather has gone even worse than earlier, and Seokjin is trying to shield himself with the collar of his jacket. You close the door behind him, feeling resistance from the wind. Daisy gleefully welcomes Seokjin as she normally would, and he embraces her without a word or glance at you. “She hasn’t been weird or anything, so I think, she’s fine for now,” you state, wanting to update him. After saying hello to Daisy, Seokjin’s shoulders relax as he is finally inside, shielded from the storm. He places down his bag by the wall before taking off his jacket and shoes. His black hair is wet and dripping from the tips. “That’s good,” he replies as he looks at her. He kneels down before her and examines her briefly. “I don’t see any symptoms, but I brought some medication with me. I’ll treat her just so we’re sure that she’s fine,” he says and grabs his bag by the wall. “Some of the medication is vomiting inducing, so maybe we should treat her in a room without a carpet,” he suggests with a dry smile, finally meeting your eyes. You nod at that. “Sure,” you say. You lead him to the bathroom with the tile floor. “Daisy, come here,” you say, making Daisy sit down in front of Seokjin. You sit down beside him, but Seokjin can sense your nervousness in the way your eyes look at him. Almost like a maiden in distress. “I got everything here, why don’t you go and wait in the living room?” he asks friendly, but really it is an order. He remembers that you are a bit squeamish with things like this, and honestly, he would feel more confident without you watching him. Your presence would just put more pressure on his shoulders, considering how much you judge him already. “O-okay,” you say, and without thinking too much about it, you do as he says. He is the vet after all. You close the door behind you and leave Daisy with him, knowing that despite your relation to Seokjin, she must be in good hands. He knows what he is doing, so you leave it to him.

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The waiting seems quite long. You think about Daisy and how bad you feel, leaving that chocolate out for her to get to. You know that you should not blame yourself too much since it could have happened to anyone, but it happened to you, so you still feel at fault. You consider checking in on them a few times, but you stop yourself. You do not want to disturb them or make Seokjin think that you doubt his competence. He knows far more about this type of thing than you, so you should just stay put and wait. Finally, you hear the bathroom door open, and a few seconds later, Daisy comes walking. She is calm and a little tired, when she jumps up on the couch next to you. You pet her gently as she lays herself down to relax a bit. “She will be fine after resting,” you hear Seokjin say as he approaches you. You look up at him and meet his eyes, but you cannot read them. “Good,” you nod. His words calm you a bit. “I already cleaned up in there, so you won’t have to do that,” he adds as he packs his things into his bag. “Thank you,” you say with a kind smile, but Seokjin does not see it. You cannot tell if he is being professional or if he is annoyed with you. On one hand, he is doing what you asked him to, but on the other, his tone is almost hostile with you. No smiles, no jokes. “Do you want a glass of water or maybe some juice?” you decide to ask. It feels best to at least offer him something after what he just did for you. Seokjin looks at you for a second before he nods. “Sure, water would be fine,” he says and clears his throat, noticing that it feels a bit rough. You rise up and Seokjin follows you to the kitchen. Normally, Daisy would follow too, but you tell her to stay put, hoping she will relax instead. She does. You pull out two glasses and fill them up with water from the fridge before sliding one to Seokjin. He raises the glass to meet his lip as he takes a sip. You do the same. “Thank you for coming here and saving my ass,” you say, wanting to lighten the tension between the two of you. You do not have to be friends to be friendly, you think. “Don’t worry about it,” he replies shortly. The vibe is a bit awkward between the two of you, and you are not sure what to do about it. “I’m sorry for dragging you over here on a Saturday,” you say, forcing yourself to be nice. When it comes to Seokjin, you have never apologized or wanted to in your life, but you guess that there is a first time for everything. “Well, I did it for Daisy and your grandparents, so it has nothing to do with you,” he replies unbothered. It makes you scoff, which he notices. “What?” he asks. “Why do you have to be so rude?” you ask annoyed, deciding against being civil. “You won’t even accept my lame apology,” you add mumbling. Seokjin takes a big gulp of his water before placing the glass on the counter. “Honestly, I don’t really want to be here with you,” he states, and you are taken aback. Asshole, you think to yourself. “I’ll go now. Thanks for the water and call me if Daisy needs me,” he says and takes his bag with him to the front door. You stay put, not wanting to rush after him. He is a jerk. You hear the front door open and close again, hearing him leave. Whatever, you think and try to shake him off you. Daisy is better now, so he did what he came here for. You join Daisy on the couch again, picking back up your book.

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After reading a few more pages, you suddenly hear something in the house. The sound comes from down the hallway at the front door. Seokjin already left, so it has to be something else. At first, you only furrow your brows as you listen in. You hear something again, and this time, Daisy lifts her head in curiosity. You put down the book and decide to go check. “Daisy, stay,” you say, wanting her to rest. Being a good dog (and a tired one), she obeys. The seconds it takes before you are closing in on the target is all the time you need to get anxious. Your thoughts run wild, and before you are at the front door, you have a candlestick in your grip as a weapon. Just in case. “YAH!” you yell out as you are surprised by Seokjin’s presence when he suddenly appears from one of the rooms. He is just as shocked by you. “Why do you have a weapon!?” he yells back. “Why are you still here!?” you yell again, and the two of you just look at each other with widened eyes. “I-,” Seokjin starts, but it seems weird to say it out loud. “Have you seen the weather outside? It’s crazy!” he exclaims, finding it reasonable enough. You finally lower the candlestick, and Seokjin appreciates it. You step up and open the front door, yet as soon as the wind and rain rush in, you close it back up. Looking back at Seokjin, he raises his brows in confirmation. “I know, right?” he says. “Why didn’t you say anything? I thought that you left 10 minutes ago,” you scold him, finding it really strange that he just stayed without saying. You place the candlestick down before heading back towards the living room with Seokjin following behind. “I thought, I could just wait for a bit and then leave when the storm settled down,” he explains, and you shake your head. “Jin, that’s weird,” you scold him again. “Yah! I didn’t want to be here with you, remember? And I had just pissed you off, so I didn’t want to go back to your bitter ass,” he spits back. You quickly turn on your feet, and it halts him in his steps. “You are the bitter one! I was trying to be nice,” you defend, yelling a bit louder than you wanted. You then notice how Seokjin is now close to you and towering over you with his tall frame. It is not what you had in mind when you decided to turn, so it throws you off. A smile makes its way on his lip, and your brows furrow at the sight. “You’re actually cute when you yell,” Seokjin states, totally unbothered by your scolding. “Aish!” you whine, pushing him away in irritation. It only makes him laugh as he sees you stomp back into the living room in anger. It reminds him of the good old days.

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An hour passes, and the storm only worsens, which means Seokjin cannot leave just yet. You are sitting on the couch in each of your end with Daisy between you. Giving him the silent treatment, you had quickly decided to pick up your book and get back to reading. His presence should not stop you. All the two of you can hear is the rain splashing against the windows, and the sound of you turning the page occasionally. “Could we do something fun? I’m bored,” Seokjin finally sighs after watching you read for over half an hour. You keep your eyes on the page before you. “Like what?” you ask uninterested. He rests his head against the backrest of the couch, trying to think of any suggestions. “We could mess around,” Seokjin suggests with a laugh, knowing it will tick you off. “Okay,” you say and put down the book. Seokjin is surprised. “W-wait, what?” he asks and sits up in a slight panic. “Sure,” you say. Seokjin freezes for a second, having not expected you to say yes. You raise your brows expectantly at him, and his eyes widen. “I- I didn’t-” he stutters, and you burst out laughing. “I’m messing with you,” you say and give him a playful punch. It makes him force a chuckle that is mainly a sign of confusion on his part. “Oh, right,” he says with a dry laugh. “Let’s just watch a movie,” you say and get up to put one on. Seokjin is a bit unsettled, not knowing what to think of your teasing. After choosing a movie, you sit back and watch it with him. But after an hour, the power suddenly shuts off, and the screen goes black. The two of you look at each other, not knowing what to do. “Maybe we should mess around, then,” Seokjin says and leans towards you. “Get off!” you scold him as you push him away with force, making him laugh. “I knew it,” he says, and his confidence is weirdly enough restored.

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“Keep the light steady, I can’t see anything like this!” Seokjin exclaims as he fumbles in the dark. “I’m trying,” you say back, focusing the flashlight on the backup generator from afar. Seokjin looks back at you still standing on the staircase. “Maybe if you came over here, it would actually help with the light,” Seokjin suggests. “I don’t like the basement,” you say with a nervous laugh. It is a bit embarrassing, but you have always stayed away from the basement whenever you visited. It creeps you out. Even Daisy is standing upstairs in the doorway, looking down on you guys. “Well, I can’t fix it if I can’t see, Y/N,” he states, and you guess that he is right. It makes you huff. “Okay,” you give in and make your way to him despite hating it. “Just light right here,” Seokjin says and wraps his hand around yours to adjust your aim. The brief contact feels nice. He has warm hands, and yours are ice cold. “Maybe after this, we should find a pair of mittens for you,” Seokjin chuckles. “Do you have terrible circulation or something?” he asks, and you wonder how he can take something as basic as blood circulation and make it sound like an insult. “Hey, don’t mock my circulation,” you say. Seokjin just grins. “Maybe we should find a pair of oven mitts instead, so you can also use them for cooking dinner later,” he jokes, finding himself hilarious. You, however, do not find it as funny, so you aim the flashlight at his face instead, blinding him. “Yah, stop! Okay, I give,” he says with a laugh. You aim the light back on the generator, smiling proudly of your achievement. “If anyone is cooking later, it will be you,” you state. Seokjin does not move even after his laughter settles. It makes you wonder, and you get impatient. “Neither of us will be cooking if we don’t turn this thing on, Seokjin,” you state, gesturing for him to fix it. “You just blinded me! I’m waiting for my vision to return,” he whines. “Oh, right,” you say and laugh too. You forgot about that for a moment. Oops.

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“I can’t believe, you couldn’t turn it on,” you state as the two of you exit the basement. “Aren’t you supposed to be a man or something?” you ask. Seokjin scoffs. “I’m a veterinarian, I spend my time on other things than backup generators,” he defends as his masculinity is clearly hurt. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that it isn’t connected to the house right or something, cause I tried everything,” he adds. The two of you make your way back to the living room with Daisy. Without power, the only light you have is from the outside, leaving you in almost complete darkness. The storm is pretty bad, and once in a while lightning strikes out of the blue (or grey actually), lighting up the room for a second. You would not consider yourself a scaredy-cat, even if Seokjin disagrees, but you have never been a huge fan of thunder. It makes you feel incredibly small and unsafe. However, you try your very best to not let it show since Seokjin is sitting next to you on the couch. You do not want to hear it from him. In all honesty, Seokjin can tell, but he does not point it out. He knows you a lot better than you think. To you, the worst part about all of this is the heat shutting off. If you thought your hands were cold before, you are in for a surprise. You rub your hands together to try and warm them up. Seokjin notices your freezing form. “Don’t your grandparents have a board game we can play?” Seokjin suggests, wanting to distract you from it. “I think so, I can go look,” you say, and he nods. You get up and make your way down the hallway, stopping in front of the closets. You open them up and look it through, finding one that is playable by two. Bringing it with you, you finally return to the living room. “I found scrabble,” you state as you enter the room, but you are distracted by the sight. Seokjin has found candles and placed them on the coffee table with room for the game in the middle. He is lighting each of them up as you walk in. He sits down on the floor with a smile. “I thought, it would be cozy,” he says softly. You nod gently in return, unable to find words as you are a bit in awe. You had not expected him to have such a change in his demeanor. You sit down on the floor across from him and unpack the game, placing it between you on the table. As you look up at him and meet his eyes, you notice the way that the warm light from the candles gently displays across his features. He suddenly looks so soft. You forget about the lightning outside as you find yourself distracted by him. You hand him his plate and the little bag of letters after taking some for yourself. Seokjin reaches in and pulls out random letters, placing them on his plate. You place yours as well, yet you notice that his eyes are on you. “Are you cold?” Seokjin asks, seeming a bit worried. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, chuckling briefly. It makes him look around and get up to grab the blanket on the couch. He walks over to you and kneels behind you to wrap the blanket around your frame. “Is this better?” he asks gently by your ear, letting his hands linger. You find yourself nodding again without words. It feels surprisingly comforting to have him so close, feeling his warmth against you. You do not know how he manages to stay so warm, but he does, and it makes you want to keep him beside you. He lets his hands drop from your touch, but he stays next to you. “Y/N, can I ask you something?” he then says as he gets comfortable on the floor behind you. You turn a bit to look at him. “Sure,” you say softly. “Do you really not consider me a friend?” he asks without looking at you, and the way his voice almost cracks suggests that he has had it on his mind for a while. “What do you mean?” you ask. You know what it is that he is referring to, but you need a few extra seconds to think. “When we met on the beach a few days ago, you said that we aren’t friends, and it just confused me,” Seokjin explains, meeting your eyes at last. You notice the way his brows have a slight crease, and you wonder if he was hurt by your words then. It makes you feel bad. “I shouldn’t have said it like that, Seokjin. I guess, I just don’t think we are friends in the traditional sense, since we kinda have this love-hate relationship,” you say, yet as the words leave you, you panic a bit. They sounded a lot more intimate than you wanted. “Love?” Seokjin repeats, and a smile shapes at his lip. A warm one. You find yourself speechless, not knowing what to say to that. “I mean-,” you try, but you do not know how to save it. The word has been said. “I know, what you mean, Y/N. You don’t have to explain it to me,” Seokjin then says, saving you from the embarrassment. To embarrass you is not what he wants at all. Besides, he would have said the same thing, had it been him. He clears his throat before getting up and returning to his spot on the opposite side from you. You wrap yourself further into the blanket, letting the intimacy stay. “Seokjin,” you say, capturing his attention. He looks at you attentively as he waits. “Even if we aren’t friends in the traditional sense, I still consider us close,” you say, wanting to make clear what you meant. You might be hard on him and claim to dislike him, but it is not true. You have always liked him a lot, even when he annoys you. You should be better at owning up to that. Your words warm his heart and make him smile, finally getting to hear it from you. “Good,” he says, letting you know that he agrees. You do not have to see him every day to know that you share something special, and Seokjin has always cared for you a lot despite the distance. After all, maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder in your case, even if it is difficult to say aloud. Things do not always have to make perfect sense to be right. It just has to feel right, and this does. “Okay, let’s play,” he says, moving the focus onto the game. “What’s at stake?” you ask, wanting motivation to win. “Whoever wins gets to decide where we’ll go on our first date,” Seokjin determines, and it makes you laugh fondly. “Sure, why not,” you agree, finding it reasonable. However, playing scrabble in the candlelight is first date material, so in fact, you both already won.

[bakugou-loving-hours]

2. Night Out | Night In

Pairing: Kirishima/ Bakugou

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 619

Summary: Kirishima gets hurt

Additional Tags: established relationship, pro heroes, hurt/comfort

Night In

Bakugou got the call around 10 that morning. With it came a rush of panic that turned into actual anxiety that turned into somewhat severe heart palpitations.

It was Kaminari who called him. He wasn’t even going to answer because that fucker was always calling to tell him about a cat he saw or something he ate earlier. But he did answer this time, after the 3rd ring. Because it was clear he wasn’t going to stop.

And Kaminari didn’t laugh or call him some endearing name that the squad decided was the new nickname of the month. He just called him by his actual name. Which immediately set him on edge and had him panicky.

“Kirishima’s been hurt…”

The trail off is what got him. He didn’t add to it, didn’t say anything afterwards, just waited for a reaction.

A reaction that Bakugou didn’t have, because he was too busy dropping his glass of water and freezing up in their kitchen. The kitchen that he and Kirishima shared.

“Bakugou?”

He never cried. Kiri made him watch movies that had beloved characters dying or dogs getting hurt or things that would make normal people cry. But he never cried, because he didn’t know those people or those dogs, and he was a tough motherfucker who just didn’t cry. But he knows Kirishima. He knows how he likes his eggs in the morning, that he likes the house temp just so, and that he wears socks to bed only to stick his legs out from the blanket without monsters grabbing him.

And every image of having to cook breakfast alone, being too hot or too cold in his own house, or not having scratchy feet kick at him in the night, just came flooding in. And the tears came flooding out.

But he was still frozen. Unable to move until Kaminari took it back, or expanded at least.

“He had to be airlifted to the hospital… but…”

And Bakugou didn’t hear the end of the sentence. Just needed to know that one detail to break him from his trance to get him moving.

He made record speed, was at the hospital in less than 20 minutes and screaming at the closest person to find him his boyfriend or he would kill them. Anger management wasn’t really at the forefront of his mind.

And that’s how he got to the ICU. Sitting at the side of a clearly battered Kirishima.

There were wires and tubes and things that just ended up giving Bakugou more heart palpitations. He had bandages covering his right arm and stitches in his forehead. And he was probably unconscious.

“You idiot. You fuckin idiot, I swear to god Ei.”

“Hey now,” Kirishima opened his eyes. “That’s no way to talk to someone who’s hurt.”

And with those few simple words, every bit of relief Bakugou has ever experienced came flooding in. And those same tears from earlier came flooding out.

“Come on, I’m okay.”

Bakugou laid his head next to Kirishima, too scared to touch him.

“Fuck, don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“Alright,” and Kirishima’s voice was so soft, like he thought Bakugou would break any minute. “Wanna stay in tonight? I could really go for some take out and a stupid movie.”

“You fucking idiot I swear to god.”

Kirishima was always taking care of him. He was hurt, laying in a hospital bed but he was concerned about Bakugou. And that just was not fair.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can stay in tonight.”

+++

Bonus because this is Februhorny after all.

+++

“Ei, move over.”

“E-excuse me, I’m the one hurt here. You move over.”

“Here just…”

“Oh… are you happy to see me Katsuki?”

“I’m always happy to see you, Ei.”

[collecting-stories]

Toast - Frank Castle

You're so welcome! There was! It was goofy and basically Frank used the toaster for something in his adventures. Then when the reader wakes up she just wants toast and is just sleepy and 'why am I being punished?' If you don't want to, now worries It popped into my head when I was half asleep - for @alwaysadreamingoptimist

Toast - Frank Castle

There was a voice in your head telling you that you should be thankful. That you just had the third near death experience in a couple of months and if it wasn’t for the man standing in your living room you would be dead. You also wouldn’t keep having these near-death experiences but you were certain you’d rather put up with him then be safe. Which was itself a scary thought. But you were alive, which was a bonus, except there were bullet holes tearing up your kitchen and two men were lying dead in your hallway and the toaster that you’d saved up for was bashed in and covered with blood.  

“You couldn’t have used the skillet?” You called.

“What?” Frank shouted, walking down the hall. His boots were heavy on the hardwood. He appeared in the doorway, running a hand over his cropped hair, the bruises on his face from a rather unexpected scuffle looked harsher without his hat on, in the floursent light of your kitchen.  

“Did it have to be the toaster?” You muttered, kicking the offending appliance with your foot. It was bent almost in half, lying at the edge of your kitchenette, smeared with blood. Specifically smeared with the blood of the man laying dead beside it.  

The aforementioned man was laying in a way that you couldn’t open the oven door and the toaster was most definitely “kaput”, as your grandmother would say.  

“I’m sorry, I ain’t hearin’ ya in here complainin’ right?” Frank asked, though the grin on his face betrayed the attempt to sound cross with you.

“Me? Complain? Never.” You replied, glancing down at the dead body once more. “But I just want you to know I’m getting Matt on speed dial so the next time this happens I won’t have to explain dead people to the police.”  

“Ya know I just saved your life mama,” he sassed.  

And technically he was right. Frank had just saved your life. Because you had disregarded his request to ‘keep a low profile’ and ended up on the hitlist of some of New York’s Most Wanted.  

“Yeah well-” You bit your tongue to stop the next words out of your mouth but you both knew what you were about to say. And not because you meant it, simply because you were annoyed and you had a tendency to say things you didn’t mean when you wanted to bother people. Things like ‘yeah well whose fault is it that my life was in danger’.  It was an unintentional slip that you stopped from coming out but Frank still knew what the next words in that sentence were going to be. “Thanks.” You tried lamely to save the conversation but you couldn’t.  

“You should get out before the police get here.” He replied, holstering one of his guns and not bothering to look at you.  

Great, you’d managed to hurt the feelings of the one person you actually cared about. You took his advice though, grabbing your phone. “I didn’t mean-” you started but then paused, knowing he didn’t want to hear some foolish excuse about how you didn’t mean what you had stopped yourself from saying. You headed out of the of house, taking the stairs when you heard the sound of sirens outside the building. You knew you didn’t have to worry about the police and Frank but it didn’t stop you.

-

It was two weeks, countless interviews, and finally an all-clear from crime scene clean-up before you were allowed back into your apartment. Everything was back to ‘almost normal’ sans the toaster that Frank bashed over a man’s head. Which wasn’t so bad, toasters weren’t exactly expensive but you worked more than you were home and when you weren’t working you were doing questionable favors for Frank (well, not ones he asked you to do) so you didn’t exactly have time to replace the beloved appliance.  

Sleeping in your place still had you rattled but you didn’t have anywhere else to go so you sucked it up and headed for home after a particularly long day at work. You were greeted the same way you usually were, the only difference being the new toaster sitting on your kitchen counter.

“Frank?” You called, recognizing the pair of boots by the sofa. When you didn’t get an answer you headed further into the apartment (if that was truly possible given the size). You kicked off your shoes and left your coat and bag over the sofa as you did, heading in the direction of your closed bedroom door. Pushing the door open you were met with the sight of Frank reclining on your bed with the dog, eating a plate of toast. “Make yourself at home.”

“I should, I’m here more than you are.” He teased, taking another bite.  

You changed, not bothering with shyness or modesty as you pulled on a pair of shorts and a very small shirt. It was purposely cropped though Frank had told you it looked like you robbed a child of their pajamas. Speaking of, you took a moment to glance his way as he pet your dog, noting the clearness of his skin, no fresh bruises was always a plus for you. It made you feel like maybe he wasn’t always in such imminent danger.  

“Thank you.” You finally said when he looked over and caught you watching him.  

“What for?” He asked.

You walked around the bed, his eyes following you the entire time, and climbed onto the space next to him. He reached his arm out, letting you tuck yourself against your side as he draped his arm over your shoulders and kissed the side of your head.  

“For the toaster...and you know, generally just...not letting me die.”  

“It’s alright mama, I wanted some toast anyway.” He shrugged.  

“Frank.” You jabbed his side gently. When he smiled and continued eating you leaned closer, placing your hand on his cheek and turning his head to face you. He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly. “I mean it, thank you.”

He leaned forward and kissed you, the faint taste of grape jelly on his lips. “I told ya, It's alright.”

I found this and realized I never published it. 

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning: Second Chapter Prologue

It was nighttime, and the waning moon was, for some reason, vividly bright. Mike McGuire was laying in the middle of the ring in their backyard, staring up through the branches. The leaves had yet to sprout, but the buds were set to start opening up anytime. Same could be said for the young plants newly set in the soil near the back porch- a small plot of land freshly tilled up, planted with varying marigolds, daffodils, impatiens, and centered in it all, a rosebush received for Valentine’s. It was nice and neat, every plant perfectly arranged. The same could not be said for the garage.

--------------

It had all began not even a few days ago. A few days ago after losing their beloved tag team championship belts at the biggest show of the year. They had spoken little. They showered, dressed, went to the hotel, slept, got on the plane the next morning. And somewhere over the ocean, John had turned to Mike, and in a rare initiation of conversation…

“Mike.”

John was looking out the window, like he did with every trip, and there was a quiet mesmerization about it. Mike startled a bit. He didn’t usually initiate conversation. Sometimes early on they wouldn’t speak for hours, and when Mike asked why he wasn’t talking to them he simply replied ‘you didn’t say anything.’ Him breaking his ‘speak when spoken to’ habit usually indicated he had something important on his mind, so they’d shifted and given him their full attention. “Yeah, bud?”

“I turned 42 two weeks ago.”

He didn’t sound overtly happy about it. John’s emotional inflection was a subtle, nuanced thing, but by now Mike had become very attuned to picking it out. Still, they offered him a wavery little smile, probably in an attempt to cheer the both of them up. “You shoulda told me that. Woulda made you a cake.”

John shrugged.

“Better stuff to celebrate.”

His hand touched the window briefly.

“Like us.”

He turned to Mike in his chair and spoke low.

“But what I mean is that … maybe I can continue to do this. Maybe my body holds up a little longer. But I’ve come to realization that I don’t want to.” They sat up bolt upright, their head tilting to the side. For a moment they resembled an Irish Setter who just heard a far-off dog whistle and was trying to process what in the world that sound was. “You wanna stop? Like… this minute?” It wasn’t accusatory- more like confirming that the sounds coming out of his mouth were forming words that they were understanding the meaning of.

“Yes.” “You sure?” “Yes.” They sat back in their seat, expression a little dazed, as if showing mild signs of shock. Then they closed their eyes, inhaled, exhaled. Managed a smile, wobbly for a different reason than their previous one, and reached over, giving his wrist a squeeze. “...okay.”

The declaration had caught Mike completely off guard. In a way, they thought, they should’ve seen it coming at some point- he’d made some remarks about the ugliness of the business, beginning to think past it. But they hadn’t thought it would happen so suddenly. It was like driving at 60 MPH and then suddenly slamming on the brakes, the sudden jettisoning into the seatbelt knocking out all your breath and leaving your insides hurting. They went home. He planted his garden, seeming serene and perfectly content. Mike gave Alundra a once-over- they’d had her painted in their absence, the vivid yellow and red flame paintjob traded for an emerald green with orange flame one. The new vanity plates installed- NSFW 1. Something stabbed inside them. The next day. Grocery shopping. Mike going over their particulars. So much had been provided for them that had to be taken into account now. Health insurance- the extended coverage wouldn’t last forever, and though they could easily afford it, plans for two people in their shape wasn’t going to come easily. Something pricked at their eyes. Mike kept staring at their phone. It would ring eventually, they just knew it, a gruff voice on the other end demanding what in the blue hell they thought they were doing, is this what I wasted my time on you for, pulling yourself out of obscurity and stumbling into the perfect partner just to vanish like a fart in the wind? They weren’t sure the old man would say that. But what would they think, when they heard? How would they explain ‘he wanted out and I couldn’t deny him that and I can’t keep going in good fucking conscience without him’? And so on till today. This evening. Just now. Mike found themselves in the garage. They looked around. A small box was on the table- a prototype of a new piece of merch. A snowglobe. Little figurines of them under a dome of glass filled with water. They held their title belts. Shake it, orange and green confetti glitter swirled around. Pieces of fanmail, notes on their Twitter, asked where they’d gone. Some wished them well. Some worried that they were hurt or worse. Some said they felt betrayed. Why couldn’t you have even said goodbye? We believed in you. Quitters. Mike’s grip tightened on the snowglobe, their teeth gritting together hard. ‘It got taken from me and I wasn’t ready, and it fuckin’ sucks. So bad.’ Their own words from a year past slam into their brain and with a roar, they throw the snowglobe down, sending a shatter of broken glass and glitter water splatting over the concrete floor. A t-shirt snatched from a box, the phoenix that’d been emblazoned on their viking flags torn in two with an obnoxious ripping sound, the rest of the box kicked over. Their head whipped around, glaring viciously at the cardboard face of David Scott. Screeching, all but consumed by their fury, they dashed forward, grabbing him by the top of his large, scowling head and tearing the cutout apart. They couldn’t believe their own anger. They felt robbed, cheated, resentful. And all those feelings made Mike feel even worse, because they didn’t want to direct them at John. They couldn’t have kept going if he hadn’t wanted to. They didn’t want to be one more person who knew his desires and chose to ignore them. Mike’s train of thought slowly cooled their anger. All that was left was a giant mess of broken glass, torn t-shirts, dented boxes, ripped up cardboard. Something sick heaved in their chest and they left the garage, numbly trekking through the backyard until they found themselves in the ring.

-------------- So there they were. Maybe they could salvage something. Maybe the fans they hadn’t completely alienated would still want them, for old time’s sake. If they got back into auto repair maybe they could even sell them there as a bonus. Nostalgia was always a hot ticket, and somebody in the future was bound to remember that one tag team that got super hot and then vanished without a trace out of nowhere. Raising an arm, they laid it over the bridge of their nose, shielding their closed eyes from the moonlight as they tried not to sob. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid.

John stood in the doorway of garage backdoor. Behind him was the aftermath of the disturbance that woke him. He had noticed immediately that Mike was gone. He had sat up from the bed and waiting until the noises subside. Quietly, he went to the garage and looked upon what had happened. His emotions ticked up slightly to disappointment that the quiet last few days had been a simmering pot and it had just spilled over. Soft footsteps went across the yard to the source. He stood just outside the ring, keeping his distance for the moment. He cut through the ambience of the night.

“I know you’re angry at me.” There was a long pause. The soft, occasional chirp of an early cricket or two. “‘M not mad at you. I feel shitty that I’m mad at all. S’ fuckin… complicated.” They didn’t move, their speech muted. If their anger was a fire, right now they were the embers that some knowledgeable Eagle Scout had doused with water and stirred up with a stick. Only You Can Prevent Wildfires. “...i didn’t want to not give you this. I feel like I’ve let people down. Myself a little. And then I get mad at myself cuz the alternative is what? Making you run yourself down when you don't want to anymore just to feed my own fuckin’ dream that I should’a grown out of? It… I…” Sniff. “...it just happened so fuckin’ quick. Like slammin’ a book shut ‘fore you read the end.”

John circled around to the wooden steps leading up onto the apron. He put a foot on the first step.

“I thought it would just be the end of a chapter.” Slowly lowering their arm from their face, they scooted themself across the canvas a bit away from the center- not a recoil, but an invitation. Reaching up, they curled their hand around the bottom rope. They knew that. It made them feel even more foolish for exploding the way they had, the silvery light of the moon accentuating the blush standing out on their damp cheeks. “I’m bein’ a fuckin’ dumb baby, aren’t I…”

“No. Not happy that I advertently made a decision for you as well.”

“We’re a package deal. Can’t do it without you. Don’t want to. I know what you said’s right. Our story ain’t over. Just feel like I’ve been thrown violently into the next scene without any time to brace myself. But I’ll get over it. Get over myself, maybe.” Their right arm, the one not gripping onto the rope, reaches out to the side, fingers beckoning a bit. “‘M sorry I broke all that stuff… poor Milscott…”

“It was just that. Stuff.”

He stepped up onto the apron.

“I believed in what we said. All of that talk about hall of fames and being the greatest. It was fun. It lit a fire inside of me. But it made me feel like we were walking down the wrong path. Like we almost did before.”

“Mouthy little shit talks a big game.” There was a dry chuckle at that. All that talk of being the first tag team in the EWC Hall of Fame would likely amount to just that. Talk. It was one of the things that’d jagged at them these past few days, that their ultimate legacy was apparently a foul-mouthed hothead who made big grandiose boasts only to bail without warning. Exhaling, they turned their head toward him, hand still reaching in his direction. “How so? We weren’t bein’ dicks again, were we?”

“No.”

He walked along the the edge of the apron, stopping just before them.

“Don’t think it was that simple. Our words, though? They started to mirror something we swear we’d never be. Started to have some folks nod along that weren’t before.”

It took Mike a moment to puzzle that one out, their mouth pursing, flicking two and fro, nose crinkling a bit. After a few seconds, though, their red-rimmed eyes popped, left hand releasing the rope and going to their mouth with a gasp. “Noooooo. You can’t fuckin’ mean… no. No motherfuckin’ way we were sounding like him. … Were we really?”

“Maybe not exactly. But it made me think. Readjusted a few priorities.”

He had finally stepped through the ropes and entered the ring. He stood over them.

“I would have gone as long as we had those belts. And sure, there were amazing possibilities on the horizon. I love the sport. But I had been wrong in the assumption that it was the only thing I was meant to do. You made me see that.” Mike looked up at him. From this angle he looked impossibly huge, and it made them feel smaller in comparison. Physically anyway. John never made you feel small as a person, and if he did, you probably deserved it. “...maybe I’ve had it backwards this whole time then. I kept seeing things as… I don’t fuckin’ know… a block building. You take out any one part of it- me, you, our home, the business- and everything falls to pieces. I mean I figured we’d stop someday, maybe in a year or two, kinda ease out of it, tell everybody where we were going an’ why. But in all those big fuckin’ pipe dreams I didn’t think about what you thought. I just assumed you wanted the same thing I did when it came to the business an’ that was fuckin’ selfish of me. I’m really sorry.”

He knelt down beside Mike, before finally sitting back, crossing his legs.

“I wanted all of that. But there’s more to us, I believe. I’d be naive to think there isn’t conflict elsewhere in the world but it is less likely than what we were doing. I had remembered what I loved about the business before it was taken all away. But more importantly, I now have something I never had.”

“...VIP customer status at Barnes and Noble?” The cheeky grin that flicked onto Mike’s face wasn’t the wavering, willing-yourself-to-smile expression she’d given him the last couple days. Like a breath of fresh air, it was real. Slowly, they pulled themself up to a sitting position, folding their legs likewise, facing him, reaching for his hands. Without hesitation, John placed his hands into theirs. He smiled in response to Mike’s joke. Sighing softly, Mike ran their thumbs over his knuckles tenderly. Even if they had been mad at him, it wouldn’t have lasted. They could be mad at a lot and hold grudges for ages, but never at him. Something about John was impossible to be angry with- least that’s how Mike saw it. “So… now what?”

John shrugged in response. But in that same moment, he felt an answer come through.

“We stop hiding who we are.”

[teddy-fluffnhugs]

Blue Moon (Part 1)

Just another thief fanfic idea I thought of, and yeahhh I know I should finish the other one, butttt it's taking forever sooo I'll stick with this one. It's short, it's dumb , and I HOPE ya like it.

---------------

“It all happened on a calm, and cold night, when the blue moon was full".

---2 months prior---

He pulled himself onto the roof with a soft grunt, taking care to not make a sound. He inhaled the cool air, and exhaled softly, catching his breath. His arms ached, his calves were hard from climbing up walls, and his hands were all red from the cold. He stretched his hands, and wiggled his phalanges to keep them from becoming stiff. He had just completed 2 jobs early that night, feeling more like himself again as the days pass. Basso paid him well (50 lbs), and the weight of the gold coins on his side almost made him grin. He was also given a bag full of delicious food, as a bonus of course. The holidays were getting near afterall, and that meant he would have to "lock" himself away in his clock tower for the next 4 months. The smell of the raisin bread reaches his nose, and he feel the heat of a decently sized chicken on his back. His mouth watered in anticipation, and he had the perfect drink at home to down it all with. The thought of him returning home to the tower, eating a good meal, and burying himself under his soft wool blankets, tempts him to urgently want to rush home .

But he must tread the roofs carefully tonight. The rain from the previous night had froze into thin sheets of ice. One wrong step, and it could send him falling onto his arse.

Or, his head.

He rubbed his hands together, and blew into them in attempt to warm them up. He was about to take another step, when he noticed the shadows of the clouds moving to make way for the light of the moon. He turns his gaze up at the sky to see an pale azure full moon, surrounded by stars, and some clouds. He smiles softly at the sight, and his blue eye lights up a bit brighter. The color reminds him of the huge sapphire gem he had in his beloved clock tower, which was safely tucked away in a small wooden box under his bed. It is a pale azure gem, and round just like the moon. It always took his breath away whenever he gazed upon it, each night he had a nightmare, and is his most prized possession.

Just like the way Erin’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. Those pale, blue eyes that would challenge him, and would always be full of glee on each of their previous heists. His heart clenched at the thought of his missing ex-partner, and he let out a shuddering breath.

When did he get so sentimental?

“Well better move before I become an-”,

"WWWWAAAAAAAAA WWAAAA!!!!"

his train of thought is interrupted by a piercing wail from down below. At first his heart jumps, then he immediately gets down on all fours.

"What was that?", he thinks in shock, and carefully makes his way to the edge of the roof to see what it is. When he peered down, he almost vomited at the sight.

There below, in the corner of the alley, was a tiny babe bleeding, and 2 dogs tugging the poor newborn from both directions. Both dogs were tugged at the babe, and growling at one another. The babe wailed louder, and one of the dogs managed to pull the babe with such force, that they flung the babe a few feet away from themselves. The babe landed on the cold hard ground, and cried out even louder. It layed there, bleeding, and helpless, and the 2 hounds were fighting eachother. They barked, one of them yelped, and he was pretty sure the whole neighborhood could hear the commotion. He didn't know what to do, and he continued to stare at the babe. It was squirming a bit, and stopped crying loudly.

He felt like time slowed down, and the world around grow silent as he felt something in his chest burst. His ears started to ring, and when he saw the babe open their eyes, he stopped breathing for a moment.

Their tiny, tear filled eyes glistened in the moonlight, and were of the palest blue. They were full of pain, fear, and it looks as though they were pleading for help.

Just like Erin’s eyes when she slipped from his grasp.

He is not sure what compelled him to do what he did next. All he knows is that he is wants to save that baby. He draws out his bow with ease, and impeccable speed. It snaps open, and stretches wide as if it was a bat opening it's wings to take flight. He draws out 2 spear headed arrows, and places them onto his bow. He pulls at his bow's tight cord, and shoots the arrows. He hears them whistle straight through the air, towards the 2 hounds. Both arrows pierce through each dog’s head, before they could lunge for the tiny baby again. He quickly hooks his claw to the chimney behind him, and descends down into the alleyway. He lands onto the ground carefully, and quickly makes his way to the tiny baby.

The babe was crying softly now, and coughing a bit. As he approached closer, he noticed just how tiny it was. How pink their cheeks were, and the scent of chum that came from them. He reaches down to pluck the babe off the cobblestone ground, and looks around.

“How did you get here?”, he thinks in astonishment as he swallows his saliva to prevent himself from gagging from the stench. He doesn’t hear any watchmen running, nor see any candles lit. The 3 windows above were dark, as it was just the attics of the building. If you wanted to dispose of a body, this was a perfect place to do so.

He sees a small, brown basket when he looks behind him, and a tiny blue knitted blanket spilled out from it. Next to it, is a bucket that is laying on its side, with bits of chum, and some chicken guts around the edges.

“Someone must have poured this on you.”

He pulls out his handkerchief from his pocket, and starts wiping the tiny baby clean, as best as he could anyways. He avoids the wounds on the baby’s arm and leg. The babe starts to squirm a bit, and cry when he accidentally rubs one of the exposed wounds. He rocks it gently, as he tries to shush it, trying to keep it from crying out too loudly. He strokes their small black tuft of hair softly, and it calms the babe down a bit. This tiny bundle was lucky, and it shocked him more that a newborn could survive a mauling like that.

“Or maybe they only started to attack you when I got here”, and he immediately felt his heart drop. They only just started to maul this babe. That would explain why the baby only started to cry now. Had he not taken this path home, this babe would have been torn to shreds, and eaten alive.

“Why am I doing this”, he thinks to himself, as he runs towards the basket, and plucks the blanket to wrap the babe with. He uses his black cotton cape to wrap the babe against his chest, and he frantically climbs up the rope.He feels his hands ache, and his heart pump fast. He reaches the top of the roof again, and unhooks his claw from the chimney.

He must get back to Basso’s place.

It was like someone else took over his body on his way back to the tavern. He feels himself running, and leaping over one roof to the next. He can hear the coins on his side jingle, the food on his back moves up and down, and the only warmth he feels now is the tiny babe that is wrapped around his chest. His breathing is jagged, uneven, frantic. His eyes release tears as the cool air hits his face. He can feel his heart pounding so hard, that it might burst from his chest. His throat becomes dry, and it begins to ache painfully from the cold air.

“WHAT AM I DOING??!!”, he thinks frantically as he reaches the door of Basso’s place. He turns the knob, and enters in with such force, that it even startles him.

“SHIT!! WHO- Garrett?! What in TAFFING BLAZES!! You almost gave me-”, Basso says bewildered, but stops until he looks at his friend's chest.

He extends his right foot backwards, and closes the door softly behind him. He then makes his way towards Basso, never turning down his somber gaze.

“Umm Garrett..whatcha got there?”, Basso asks as he tries to make out what exactly his friend is carrying in front of his chest.

He just pulls out the tiny babe carefully, and holds it out to Basso.

“We have a problem”

[darling-danger]

Red (Part 3)

pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader Summary: Nothing is fixed, nothing is broken. In the end, is it worth all of the effort?  rating: Angst, angsty angst,  word count: 3982 inspiration: “What does it feel like, to lose everything?”

@pearltheartist @justaswimmer18 @hamilbroke @butlinislin @reddyex @arya-durin-51 @perfectionistdia

BONUS: I urge you to listen to Spanish Sahara by Foals after reading this, it really adds to it all. (another link to the song at the bottom of the post)

​

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 (WIP) 

“Daveed, wake up.”

Daveed hears these words echo in his mind and opens his eyes almost instantly. He’s resting in his room and for a moment, he’s completely taken back.

He directs his hand up to his neck where he expected the gash, raw and wounded; however, the moment his hand reached the skin it was met by the texture of a large scar, still burning from treatment. Then he lets his eyes wander around his room: the curtains are open for the first time since you left, allowing some of the light seep into the once dark room.

And there, where Daveed felt the bed dip, near the edge of the bed, was where you sat. You weren’t facing him, rather you had seemed to be looking at something else at the moment before catching him at the corner of your eye. A small smile tugs at your lips as you turn your body to face him. He’s breathless, any thought or idea in his head now a forgotten memory. His mouth is slightly agape, his pupils dilate and he has to remind himself to breathe because he’s seeing you for the first time since you left. There’s a pain in his chest, it dulls the center of his being. Why were you here? He knows the correct answer but he’s running through his mind trying to find any reason you would want to be anywhere near him – a lying, unfaithful man who deserved what he got the previous night.

It hurts to see you at his side, where you had been so many times before. Whether it be the opening of a show or simply cuddling in the morning you were always there by his side, and then you weren’t, and he was the only one to blame.

“I don’t understand… what..?… Why?” He mutters hazily.

“That’s alright,” You begin, moving closer to where he was lying. You cup his cheek with your hand and he sighs, nuzzling into your warm palm, bringing his own hand to rest on top of yours.

“I’m here, you’re safe, nothing else matters.”

You take your time and stare deep into his beautiful eyes. At this moment, he is entranced by you, under a spell-like state of wonder and admiration of your very presence. Daveed sighs as you lean over and shuts his eyes in relief when he feels the softness of your lips.

“I missed you.”

But then Daveed’s body jolts and he now finds himself panting for breath, a thin layer of sweat over his face and neck. He backs himself only to meet the hard arm of a sofa. No. He brings his hand back to his neck and immediately feels the stinging. His fingers run across damp bandages that cover the fresh wound and he comes to his senses. None of it was real, you sitting by his side comforting him; it wasn’t real, not even close. His left eye throbs slightly but he can still clearly see his surroundings.

There’s a TV across the room and a small wooden coffee table in front of him; he’s lying on a red sofa with brown cushions. Shit. He’s at your brother’s place. Daveed’s eyes quickly dart around the room until he sees someone sitting by the table. It takes a moment but he then realises it’s Robbie, watching his every movement as he sat on a chair.

Their gazes lock, not a single sound is made and the silence that surrounds them is overwhelmingly uncomfortable, palpable even. The only thing that can be heard is the low hum of the ceiling fan accompanying the silence.

Daveed breaks from Robbie’s gaze and makes slow, sure movements; he removes the small blanket that he had seemed to be given and tucks it into the side.

“Do you know how fucking lucky you are?” Robbie’s voice cuts through the dead air, Daveed shifts slightly, seemingly refusing to answer. “Lost any more blood and that gash of yours could’ve been fatal.”

Does Daveed answer? Clearly not as Robbie visibly gets irritated with his behaviour.

“You were never the silent type Diggs,” Robbie fumes. “Cut the bullshit and face me.” Knowing it is better to not yank the lion’s tail, Daveed does just that and turns his attention to Robbie. He looks just like you, Daveed thinks to himself as he stares into the same eyes he used to look at every day.

“Where is she?” Daveed asks, his voice husky and tired.

Robbie’s fingers fiddle with each other, nails scraping against the skin. “She went to out to leave your dog with Anthony and Jazzy since you’re clearly not in any position to be taking care of yourself let alone your pet. She probably went to get her stuff too.”

Daveed nods and he feels the guilt return. Every breath only adding to the pressure in his chest. Gravity seems to have a profound effect on him, feeling himself sinking into whatever inferno he belongs to. Then he realises what utter shit he’s gotten himself into: first, cheating on his girlfriend. Second, fucking up so bad that he’s somehow managed to be in a room with your brother which might as well be a death sentence.

“I need to see her.” Daveed begins, pushing himself to stand up. Robbie quickly mirrors his movements, standing up to Daveed’s height.

“You’re not gonna do shit Diggs, you hear me?” Robbie says, taking a few steps forward until he’s a breath away from Daveed. “You think I’m just going to let you go like that? Huh? After you break my little sister like that?”

In the blink of an eye, Robbie has Daveed by the collar, his hands tightly clamping on Daveed’s shirt. Robbie’s jaw is clenched and his nostrils are flared, indicating what could happen to Daveed in a few moments. Daveed is also on edge, every muscle taut and the adrenaline making its way through his system. Yet he manages to stay calm, outwardly accepting whatever form of retribution Robbie has for him.

Again, however, Robbie’s eyes drill into Daveed’s. Robbie sees a man who he thought of as his brother – his family. He sees a man who made you happy, more so than anything he had seen before in his whole life. His soul is filled to the brim with hatred for someone who he trusted and cared for so dearly, it burns inside him – he wants to hurt Daveed, he wants to make him pay for what he did. Still, after everything Daveed has done he can’t bring himself to hurt him. His fists somehow grip tighter until his knuckles turn white and he has no idea what to do. But he would do anything for you, and he understands you would resent him for laying a hand on Daveed. Making up his own mind, he puts Daveed down, moving away so his back is turned.

“You should just fucking go, brother.” The use of endearment sends another sting towards Daveed, knowing just how much Robbie thought of him as family as well. With a deep sigh, Daveed grabs his things on the table; he grabs his wallet and some keys and makes his way towards the door.

The room continues in its silence but the weight in the room somehow lifts. There is no tension, no emotion. Nothing is fixed, nothing is broken – just silence.

As Daveed heads to the door to hail a cab outside, Robbie meets him again, albeit without looking at him. Robbie’s right shoulder meets Daveed’s and Daveed can feel a slight push coming from Robbie’s shoulder. Daveed hears a quick sigh before Robbie gives him the message:

“She should’ve just left you on that fucking street, you know that?”

And with that Robbie pushes past him, making his way to his bedroom. Finally, Daveed is alone. He’s not ready to be alone, not again. As he leaves the house there a knocking in the back of his mind, nagging him. You fucked up, bad. But don’t give her up, you owe it to her. After all you’ve done, try to fucking do something right this time.

The apartment is nothing short of a mess. You dropped off Teddy with Anthony, allowing yourself a goodbye to your beloved companion. After that, you drove around a bit, thinking about your next move. Eventually deciding to finally go to the apartment you used to share with Daveed to collect your things. And here you were an hour later, your clothes packed and a small box of trinkets and other miscellaneous things.

When you first arrived you thought nothing of the clusters of beers and items around the apartment. Once you finished fixing your things, however, did you take notice that all your pictures with Daveed were grouped together on the floor, rather, just left around in a small cluster that you mentioned.

The apartment looks grey, lifeless and completely void of any sort of any emotion. The place you called home, the place you thought you’d eventually permanently live in, now just a solemn reminder of what could’ve been. You let go of your luggage and place the box on top of it before walking around.

There are the pictures that remain untouched. You make your way towards them, kneeling down and picking up a random frame. Your fingers begin to shake as you recognise the picture of you and Daveed during his birthday last year. You can still hear the music, feel the warmth of Daveed as he held you. You remember dancing – after all the festivities, all of the guests had left – when it was just the two of you. Two lovers on a cold evening.

“Dance with me.” You can hear him say it as if he’s been saying it every day since then. The memory of you two dancing in the middle of the living room to soft music, it forces the tears. You bite your lip in resistance, not wanting to cry for a man who had betrayed you, but your mind still latches on. Your mind runs through the feeling of him wrapping his arms around you, moving slowly to the slow rhythms. You hum nostalgically, just as you did when you laid your head on his chest, free from worry. If only you could have warned yourself then. You maybe would have saved yourself a heart.

The frame, cold and rough now feels like poison to your skin and you place back on the floor. This was your fault, none of this would have happened if you stayed with Daveed. If you hadn’t left he wouldn’t have slept with her that night –. No. You cut through your own harmful thoughts. You try and convince yourself you have nothing to do with Daveed from this point on. But somehow, you can’t ignore the feeling that you still have a lot to do here. The place is wrecked, empty bottles of liquor left around the house, the unkempt state of the entire household, Daveed – who could have died had you not arrived sooner – was also a wreck. Your relationship now a puzzle you needed to solve, only, maybe you weren’t the right piece of the puzzle.

Enough is enough, you have to leave this place for now. It’s too soon, and you have your own life, a life you don’t want to be affected by your current situation. You move to pick up the box on top of your luggage only to bump it, forcing it and its contents to spill on the floor.

At that very moment, you hear the door open.

Too suddenly you’re faced with him.

As quickly as you could you placed all of the things back into the box, tucking it into your arm and grabbed the handle of your luggage.

“I was just about to leave. Goodbye Daveed.” You say without meeting his eyes, as you know if you had you would’ve ended right then and there. Daveed doesn’t say anything in protest.

Only when you’re walking past him does he grab you softly by the arm.

“Please, wait…” You hear him croak out. Your other hand lets go of the handle. Then you let your emotions take control. The pent up rage, the hurt, the anguish, it all comes through when your hand meets Daveed’s cheek and you realise you had just slapped him. You’re panting, hearing your heart beat through your ears and you know there is no reversing this.

“No Daveed.” You say firmly. “No more.” Finally, to end it, your eyes wander up eventually meeting his. The handsome face you used to wake up to everyday lacked the life and the colour you were so used to seeing. His eyes, just as tired as yours. You can practically see the thoughts running around his pupil. He wants to say something, he needs to. But he wishes to not push your further than he already has, so he holds his tongue.

You turn, ready to leave when you hear him speak up.

“You dropped something.”

Breathing deeply through your nose your turn your head to see him holding a small velvet box. You look back into his eyes and answer him.

“That’s not mine.” He takes your hand and places the box on the small space of your palm.

“It’s yours,” His voice wavers. “It’ll always be yours.” He lets go but you can feel his fingers linger for only a bit before your hands are cold again. You stuff the box into your pocket and leave with your luggage.

After a long, thoughtful drive you find yourself back at Robbie’s place. The cracks in your well-being are beginning to show and you know that can’t happen. You’ll get through this, get it together before going inside. You remove the keys and place them in your pocket, feeling the small box you had forgotten about.

You pull it out and examine it, your fingers sliding across the smooth surface of the cube.

Swallowing the guts to open the box, you finally do. Your thumb pushes the lid up before your eyes meet the silver band with the red jewel resting on top.

And with a whimper, you finally break.

It had been weeks since you saw Daveed. But every now and then he sends you messages. You don’t exactly know why you haven’t blocked his number yet, but that doesn’t stop you from reading his messages.

From Daveed; 3 weeks ago: We need to talk. Please

From Daveed; last week: I’m near the restaurant we used to go to all the time.

From Daveed; yesterday 2:35 a.m.: I need to talk to you, please. From Daveed; today 5 a.m: God, I’m so sorry, I know you hate me just please.. I need to talk to you

You sigh, conflicted about your feelings. You had left your relationship back at his apartment, all your memories and best moments. You sit by the window on a small seat, watching people live their lives like nothing would ever happen to them. You told yourself that you were through with him. But you lie to yourself as you hold the small velvet box, holding onto the ring that could have saved it all.

“You’re thinking about meeting him, aren’t you?” You’re surprised when Robbie pipes up from where he sat on the couch.

“I’m done with him, Robb.” You assure to Robbie, but mostly to yourself. You hope it’s true.

Robbie sighs and makes his way to you, kneeling so that he can clearly see your face.

“You went out in the middle of the night to save him from dying on the street, you still haven’t blocked his number, you still haven’t deleted the messages he sends you, and you keep that box you got from him. All of that doesn’t really say ‘I’m done with him’ to me.”

Of course, he has a point, he knows you inside out, how your mind works and knows when you truly need something or not.

“If meeting him is gonna give you the closure you need, please just do it,” He begs, resting his hands on either side of your face. “Seeing you like this is like dying every day, it’s not exactly the best for either of us.”

You nuzzle into his hand and nod. You can feel the tears running down your cheeks and Robbie wipes them off with his thumbs.

“I don’t know if I can do this Robb.” You say, your voice slightly shaking.

“Of course you can.” He says, grabbing your jacket and tossing it to you. “And if anything goes wrong, I’ll be around the corner helping my co-worker move into the neighbourhood if you need me, alright?”

You stand, inhaling as you try to calm yourself. “I’m going to walk there alright?” You don’t hear a response, and you assume it simply answered yes. You leave the house, and you text Daveed, unsure if you’ll be ready to face him again.

To Daveed: Meet me at the park in 20

“Let’s just get this over with.” You breathe out. You met up with Daveed but neither of you said a word until both of you sat down on a bench in the park. It was a nice afternoon, a shame since no matter how bright the day was, how warm the sun made your skin feel, you were reminded of him each time.

“Yeah…” He responds, scratching his neck. You turn your attention to him as he tries to come up with something to say. He’s wearing an Oakland hoodie, as per usual, his hair is as wild as ever and his dark glasses sit secured on top of his nose. God, it’s almost as if you forgot what he looked like.

“Is there anything you had in mind?” You hear him say. He seems to have blanked for a moment, those weeks appearing so eager and ready to speak with you have proven false, as you suspected.

For the hundredth time of the day, you take a deep breath to try and calm your nerves.

“Why did you do it?” You ask, apparently catching him off guard.

He shakes his head and bows it slightly in shame. “I don’t know, I was…” He sighs. “I was lonely, I don’t know what came over me. When it was happening I tried to stop I-I really did…”

You shut your eyes and push away every bad thought trying to make its way to the surface.

“I didn’t want to do that to you, I swear, but when you came back and you didn’t have a clue… I felt almost, happy.” He confesses. “Like a kid who was able to steal some candy from the store. But after a while, I couldn’t keep it. I couldn’t live with the guilt, how could I?”

You open your mouth, about to respond quickly, but you hold your tongue.

“I am so sorry, I really am. Of all the shit I’ve done in my life that’s the one thing I wish I wouldn’t have done.”

“But you did.” You whisper. “You fucking did it.” You repeat flatly. You notice Daveed wincing slightly. You want to slander him, completely shame him for what he’d done to you. You want everyone to know what he did. Yet you haven’t told anyone besides Robbie. You tell your friends you two are on a break. You talk of revenge, but your actions tell a different story.

“That night you told me about everything,” It’s his turn to move his attention to you. “I couldn’t slap you. I told you I couldn’t. I just couldn’t believe it at the time. Then when I saw you again, in our-uh, your apartment, I did it, I slapped you.” You let out a dry laugh, taunting yourself.

“I thought it would make me feel better, I really did. But it didn’t. I was so caught up thinking I could have revenge that I didn’t think it would make me feel worse. You were just recovering from the night before. You’ve had enough. Daveed I-I’m sorry too…”

You sniff, tears already pricking at your eyes. He sees you and allows you to rest on his shoulder.

You never thought the two of you would end like this. Nothing is fixed, you feel no closure. This can’t be it.

“I didn’t want it to end like this. Never like this.” You whisper against his chest. You feel a small tear drop on your cheek that belongs to Daveed and it only furthers your sobbing.

“I know. We could’ve been engaged by now, y’know. Maybe even looking for our own house.”

You both smile at the possibility of starting a life together. You’re still somewhat in denial, a part of you convinced this was all a tragic dream and you would wake up in bed with Daveed by your side. You wish. There’s another part of you that wants to be with him again. All that time together, it couldn’t have been for nothing. If you tried, maybe you could fix this together, just like your mom did before you.

From a distance, you hear the soft rumble of thunder, a sign that you should head back home before the rain comes.

“Let me walk you home,” Daveed suggests as he stands up. You’re about to protest against it, but a voice tells you otherwise. Just a little more time, just a little more with him.

Both of you walk back to Robbie’s house, slightly tired from running a bit in fear of getting caught up in the storm.

“Is Robbie home? I don’t think he’d be happy to see me.” Daveed inquires as he looks around at some people who are making their way down the street, strangely in a hurry.

You fumble with the keys to the door, not taking notice of any of the people. “He’s around the corner helping his co-worker with something I think- ugh this lock, okay got it.”

You open the door and turn to Daveed.For a moment you get lost in each other’s eyes, the both of you reminiscing about your first meeting.

“I guess this is it.” Daveed sighs.

You nod, biting your lip.

“Goodbye Daveed, I –“

You’re cut off when you hear your phone ring. You check the caller ID and see Robbie’s picture on the screen. Daveed stands there awkwardly, not sure about what’s happening.

“Hello? Robbie?” You answer but instead of your brother’s voice, you hear panting from the other end.

“Hello? Hello is anyone there??”

“Uh.. yes? Who is this? Can I speak to Robbie?” You ask the person on the other end of the phone.

“You’re his sister, right? Oh my god… I-I”

As you’re listening to the voice you notice Daveed looking at something passing by as the people on the street run around the corner.

“Everything happened s-s-o fast I didn’t realise until… Jesus..”

Your attention is then immediately grabbed by the sound of a loud siren echoing through the street. Daveed looks at you as your eyes lock onto the ambulance hastily making its way, passing by the house. You feel as if your heart had made its way up your throat, your breathing stops as your mind divulges into all the worst possibilities it could think of. The earth stops turning momentarily, the rain that had started to fall comes to a halt, and for a moment you only have one thought:

Don’t turn left, God… please don’t turn left.

Then the ambulance immediately veers to the left.

Your breath escapes you as your knees buckle and you fall to the ground. Daveed manages to catch you, holding you close as the rain begins to fall onto the earth. Just as the sky rumbles, you feel the world crash around you. Nothing is fixed, but now everything is broken.

(Listen to me after reading this)

[kell-be-belle]

Unbelievable

Summary: With the medication from his surgery finally worn off, Yuuri finds out what exactly Viktor was up to when he was out of it.Much fluff and other sweetness.

Pairing: Viktor/Yuuri

Continuation of Falling in Love Again  

“Oh, Yuuri…” Viktor called gently, balancing the tray in his hands as he nudged the bedroom door open with a swing of his narrow hips. Makkachin raised his head from where he lay; his tail starting to beat on the mattress with a rhythmic thump at the sight of his daddy. Viktor shifted his grip to balance the tray in one hand as he paused to give the dog an affectionate scratch between the ears. He must have sensed Yuuri’s affliction because he hadn’t left the man’s side since Viktor had brought him home from the dentist yesterday. Viktor idly wondered if his beloved poodle had begun to love Yuuri more than himself, but a wet kiss to his hand rendered the thought meaningless.  

Yuuri groaned slightly, undoubtedly stirred from his sleep by Makkachin’s wagging tail. His eyes cracked open, his gaze blearily shifting around until settling on Viktor at the foot of their bed. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Viktor purred, moving to the side of their bed and pressing a feathery kiss between his finance’s black bangs. “Or perhaps I should say afternoon.” He corrected himself, straightening again as he placed the tray on the nightstand.

Yuuri blinked slowly as his muddled mind registered Viktor’s words, “What time is it?” he croaked.

“Nearly three…” Viktor answered. “You woke up long enough for me to give you your pain medication this morning, but you were asleep again within ten minutes.” Yuuri groaned again, head falling back on the pillow and eyes slipping shut. “As tried as I’m sure you are, Zolotse, I can’t let you fall back asleep. You need to eat something and I made you soup.” One lid cracked open at that, eyeing Viktor incredulously. Viktor felt his lips pucker into a pout, “Okay, I didn’t make it; I bought it from the store. I warmed it up, though, and that’s practically half the work.”

Yuuri laughed as Viktor helped him to sit up- a dry, rough sound, but a laugh none the less. He winced slightly, delicately cupping one swollen cheek in his palm, “Ah… I feel like shit…” He grumbled.

“I know, zolotse, I know…” Viktor cooed, “But not to worry! I am going to take excellent care of you and you’ll feel better in no time!” Viktor took the bowl and spoon up from the tray. He filled the spoon with broth and blew on it briefly before bringing it to Yuuri’s lips, “Say ‘ah’!” The Russian sang, his lips curved into his signature heart shaped grin.

“Viktor… you don’t have to feed me…” Yuuri chided, but the shy smile twitching at the corners of his lips spoke of his true feelings. He was quick to turn bashful, but truthfully, he devoured such sweet and intimate displays of affection like a starving beggar.

“But of course I do!” Viktor insisted. “My poor Yuuri has been through a traumatic experience and needs me to take care of his every need!”

Yuuri was trying very hard not to smile, “I just had my wisdom teeth removed. It was hardly anything-!”

“Traumatic!��� Viktor interrupted.

Yuuri was almost grinning, “Stop trying to make me laugh, it hurts my mouth….” The younger man soon ceded and allowed himself to be fed.

Yuuri hadn’t realized just how starving he had been until that first spoonful hit his tongue. He supposed it had been quite a while since his last meal- some time before his surgery the previous day. The soup was obviously store bought and contained far too much salt to be safe for human consumption, but to his empty stomach it was divine. He had nearly polished off the bowl as a thought crossed his mind. “Hey, Viktor,” He began just as he swallowed the last spoonful. “Is my phone around?”

“It’s on your nightstand.” Viktor explained as he gathered the emptied dishes and placed them on the tray. “I turned it off after I brought you home yesterday- I didn’t want anything to disturb your rest.” Now that he looked, Yuuri was surprised he hadn’t noticed it sitting there before. His familiar blue, poodle patterned case wasn’t easy to miss. “I spoke with your parents yesterday to let them know you were okay, but I’m sure you would like to talk to them yourself. I’ll make you a cup of tea while you get caught up.” Viktor pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s forehead before leaving the room.

Yuuri scratched Makkachin between the ears as he started his phone; the dog in turn administering several kisses to his arm. Yuuri expected to find some text messages, perhaps a missed call or some Instagram notifications, but as the screen came to life it quickly burst into a frenzy of notifications- Facebook, Instagram, emails, and text messages. God… what did he miss? He checked his texts first around found messages Pichit, Yuko, Yurio, and Mila to name a few.

4-28-17 1:42 AM Pichit:

OMG!!!!! Yuuri have I ever told you’re literally the cutest EVEEERR?!?! I wish I could’ve been there to see you all doped up LOLOLOLOL Hope you’re feeling better <3<3

4-28-17 10:16 AM Yuko:

Aw, Yuuri!! That reminded me so much of when we were kids! I hope he signed them for you! Tell him I want an autograph next time you two are in Japan!  :) :) The girls are making you a get well card, I’ll send pics later!

4-27-17 2:28 PM Yurio:

You guys are so EMBARRASSING!!! Why would you let him post that GARBAGE!?!?! … And I hope you’re feeling better or whatever….

4-27-17 3:32 PM Mila:

C-U-T-E!! <3<3  What a dream come true for you LOLOLOL!! Can’t wait to have you back at the rink!

Wait… what was happening? What were all these messages about? Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure, but this had the distinctive scent of a certain Russian’s handiwork. Yuuri quickly opened Instagram, sifting through what seemed like thousands of notifications before he found the source. He had been tagged in something… by Viktor. Nervousness coiled in the deepest pit of his stomach, his thumb hovering over the link to the original post. God, he could only imagine what Viktor had done. The man had a tendency for rashness, often speaking or acting without first thinking of the consequences and that left Yuuri feeling, well, terrified….

It took several moments for Yuuri to work up the courage to press the link and when he did he regretted it instantly. There he was, swollen faced and delirious and crying over- of all things- the fact Viktor Nikiforov was at the dentist with his. Yuuri’s entire face burst into a heated flush from the tips of his ears to the collar of his shirt. It was one thing for Viktor to record him in this state for his own personal enjoyment, but to share it with the rest of the world!? The thought of looking at the number of times it had been shared made him feel physically sick and when he did he really almost did throw up. However, instead of vomit, one word managed to bubble up from his throat.

“VIKTOR!”

Viktor tentatively poked his head around the threshold of the door- he had never actually left. He smiled sheepishly, “Now, Yuuri…” He cooed.

“Don’t Yuuri me!” He immediately bit back; mockingly imitating the way the Russian said his name with an over emphasis of the ‘u’. “There’s over two millions views on this thing!”

“In my defense,” Viktor spoke evenly as he stepped fully through the door, his hands held up in surrender. His movements were tentative like he hadn’t yet ruled out the possibility that Yuuri was angry enough to throw something at him. “It would have been selfish of me to hide something so precious from the rest of the world.”

“I’m being serious!” Yuuri cried exasperatingly. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me? People are going to think I’m some kind of crazy fan boy!”

“But you are my fan.” Viktor interjected, a mischievous glint flashing in his bright eyes.

Yuuri groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He wasn’t well enough for this. It was enough dealing with the aftermath of the surgery without the added bonus of a spike in his anxiety. People would undoubtedly talk. Was Yuuri with Viktor because he loved him or because he idolized him? Obviously the two of them knew the answer, but not everyone did. He could just imagine the speculation, could see it burning through the media spreading from person to person like wildfire.

The weight of Viktor’s palms on his shoulders pulled Yuuri from his downward spiral. His touch was like magic, neutralizing the spike in Yuuri’s heartrate. The Russian’s smile was soft, but the cloud that had invaded his eyes spoke of his guilt. He brought one hand up, pointedly avoiding Yuuri’s sore cheek and instead threading his fingers through his shaggy black hair. “I’m sorry, Yuuri… I didn’t mean to upset you so much…” He soothed. “I just couldn’t help showing off just how sweet and adorable my fiancé is….”

Yuuri breathed a long breath through his nose, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Viktor’s shoulder. He could catch the faint scent of Viktor’s cologne lingering in his shirt, “It’s fine…” He sighed. “I’m just… I’m just worried what people will think…”

Viktor snorted a laugh, “What people will think? Why do you put so much weight into what other people think? We know that we love each other and that’s all that matters, is it not?”

“I guess…” Yuuri grumbled, nuzzling further into the cotton material of Viktor’s shirt.

“Besides,” Viktor continued. “Would anyone who actually knows us think we were together simply because I’m Viktor Nikiforov? I mean, I know I’m devastatingly handsome and charming and happen to be one of the greatest figure skaters of the modern era-!”

“Alright, alright I get it.” Yuuri half groaned, half laughed. “Sometimes I think your biggest fan is yourself.”

“Excuse you,” Viktor gasped in mocked affront, pulling away from Yuuri. “My biggest fan happens to be Makkachin, isn’t that right Makka?” The poodle stared at his daddy with wide, dark eyes, his tail thumping softly on the mattress at the mention of his name. “Well… now that that’s settled,” Viktor hummed as he rose gracefully from his perch on the bed. “How about that tea or perhaps you’d prefer some ice cream? I got your favorite flavor.” Yuuri visibly perked up at the offer of the chilled dessert and if that wasn’t any indication of which the younger man wanted than Viktor didn’t know what was. “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute…” He chuckled. Just as he was about to make his way towards the door, Viktor paused. “Oh, by the way…” Viktor hummed, reaching into the drawer of his own nightstand and pulling out a large padded envelope. He handed it off to Yuuri, excitement dancing in his blue eyes, “I kept my promise.”

Yuuri took the envelope with both hands, felt the crispness of the paper brush against his skin and he pulled it closer to him. He hesitated a moment, swallowing thickly before lifting the flap and pulling out the contents. It was… papers, several sheets of thick, glossy paper in various sizes. Wait, they weren’t just papers, they were… posters? Yuuri removed the stack and flipped it over find Viktor- a younger, more enigmatic Viktor frozen in time- gazing back up at him and in the corner in an elegant, Cyrillic scrawl was Viktor’s signature in shimmering gold marker. Yuuri felt his breath hitch in his throat. He fanned the poster out in his hands, finding all of his favorites of Viktor now signed by the legend himself. Yuuri’s head snapped up, dark eyes wide as dinner plates as he looked at Viktor.

Viktor’s face split into a wide grin, clearly pleased with the result of his handiwork. “I had your parents overnight them to me. You know I’m never one to disappoint a fan.” He tossed Yuuri a playful wink before sweeping from the room.

Yuuri sat there for several moments, eyes following the shimmering sweep and curve of Viktor’s autograph. His heart was hammering as he clutched the posters to his chest. Unbelievable.        

[purrcraze]

Why Do Cats Love Backpacks? Why This Is Important

Leave your bookbag or backpack on the floor long enough and you will soon see the cat come up and lay on it leading you to wonder why do cats love backpacks-well, it is because they are filled with YOUR scent!

Why Do Cats Love Backpacks? Your backpack rides with you and rubs on you all day long. Therefore, it ends up with your individual scent. As lumpy, uneven and even dirty your backpack may be, it smells like family to your cat and makes him feel close to you.

Even though it looks horribly uncomfortable at times when cats lie on our bookbags filled with textbooks, pencils, and devices like tablets or phones, they really love it and it is rather endearing! Keep reading to understand why cats love backpacks so much.

The Appeal of The Backpack

Cats are very scent-oriented animals. Chances are you have seen your cat rubbing his or her cheeks all over your house-cheeks get rubbed on table corners, on shoes, on the couch!

This is because cats are leaving their individual scent on that particular item and marking it as their own.  This is also why they scratch at things, too-also because scratching feels good and is healthy for them.

Also, do think about where that backpack of yours goes every day. It goes outside while you wait for the bus or get into the car.

It is with you in the cafeteria where the attendant is serving up hot chicken fingers and burgers. It is with you at the library, where old books and some dust linger.

All these scents are exciting and fun for a cat who may only go outdoors for the bathroom or lives indoors. Your backpack becomes a place to hang out and take in all the wonderful smells of the outside world. And best of all, it smells like you!

The next time you order something, and it comes in a box, bring it in and set it there. Chances are your cat will come up to the box and smell it, rub his or her cheeks on it, and even scratch the cardboard (it is so satisfying for a cat to scratch such a substance!).

This is because the scratching feels great and the box has many cool new scents on the outside of it.

And on top of that, cats love empty cardboard boxes because small spaces are a place of security for cats, so your beloved kitty may just be gunning for that box once you discard it. You can be certain that your cat will approach any unfamiliar object by smelling it!

Cats and Scent: Amazing and Powerful

So, you have now seen firsthand how funny and cute it is that your cat loves your backpack so much, and you know why? Because of the interesting and fun smells, of course! But just how powerful is a cat’s sense of smell?

The answer may surprise you.

Cats, after all, use scent in the same way we use cell phones – as a means of communication! It aids in keeping other cats away except in the instances of mating or other members of their own feline group.

Cats make use of pheromones and scents they create in their own glands, and urine plus fecal matter in some cases.

These scent glands are located in the chin and the lips, on top of their head, and also along the top of the tail. There are also scent glands located between their toes and around the area of the anus.

Those moments when your cat rubs on you are when your feline is leaving its own unique scent behind and that scent comes from these areas in particular.

Cats will also do this on household objects, as well as outdoor items like branches, twigs, and fences. This leaves both a visual indicator as well as a scent behind.

The Odor Is Strong for The Unneutered Cats

Cats who have not been neutered make use of their urine, and the odor is strong in cats like this. It should also be noted that each and every cat, regardless of their spay/neuter status or gender leave behind scent markers in some manner.

It can be very small, such as rubbing their face on whatever object they find all the way up to spraying. Cats may also leave fecal matter out instead of buying it.

Feral Cats Also Use Scent in A Special Way

Feral colonies of cats usually consist of females and their offspring. They rub upon each other, swapping their individual scents with one another and thereby creating a scent profile among the group.

In this manner, it becomes much easier for the cats to recognize one another thanks to their smell. You will find that there is minimal aggression within the group in most cases.

However, if an outsider cat or human tries to come into their territory, members of this feral cat colony may respond by acting very aggressively as a means of getting rid of the real or perceived threat.

Foreign cats, in particular, represent a danger to valuable food and resources nearby. However, if a cat were to come by the colony on a regular basis, it is likely that he or she would be accepted thanks to the scent being familiarized.

Making Your Home Scent-Friendly

Knowing what you know now about cats and their scent abilities, there are steps you can take to make sure your home is as scent friendly as can be.

Your cat would love everything to be like your backpack: familiar but not so overly scented that it makes him uncomfortable and nervous.

After all, changes to the scent of the home can present a big challenge for your cat. For instance, the use of household cleaning products like carpet cleaners or even disinfecting agents can cause stress.

Visiting cats, dogs, people or even redecorating are other ways new scents come into the house and make a cat feel stressed out.

If you notice your cat marking indoors, especially by way of urine, it is not usually a sign that he is doing something bad.

Rather, this is a response to the changes taking place in his environment as well as a sign of an emotional shift from content to threatened or afraid.

This could be in response to a new pet or some other huge change in environment that has happened recently in your home.

Avoid Heavily Scented Cleaning Products

Therefore, it is best to avoid heavily scented cleaning products if at all possible. These wreak havoc on a cat’s nose and some of them contain smells that most cats do not care for, such as citrus.

Aside from the smell, it goes without saying that these cleaning agents have plenty of harsh chemicals in them that will harm your pet if accidentally ingested.

It’s best to use homemade cleaners if you can, as these pose less of a risk to our furry friends. (Bonus-these are rather cheap to make and often use things you already have in your house like baking soda, vinegar and lemon juice or oil).

Meanwhile, there are some scents cats really love, so if you want to make your house smell wonderful you can make use of these naturally occurring plants to make your cat feel right at home.

Valerian root, lavender, catnip, and even olive are all things cats love. Olive and valerian root help cats calm down, although the latter makes them very active at first.

Lavender also has a calming effect, and catnip is a classic favorite that makes even the most older, senior cats feel youthful and playful again.

The main takeaway here is to make sure your pet stays happy and content by keeping very strong scents to a minimum.

Related Questions

Why Is My Cat Obsessed with Bags?

Plastic bags you get at a grocery store or market often contain the residual smells of food or even a taste of the food that was once carried inside and chewing or licking them becomes a fun experience. The crinkly sound these bags make is also loved by cats.

Why Do Cats Like Sitting in Bags?  

Cats are guided heavily by their noses, which feature a phenomenal sense of smell. If an item has your scent, they love to be near it because it brings them joy. They feel safe and secure around said object. Cats are also territorial and will sit on your bag as a territory marking exercise.

Why Do Cats Like to Sleep with Their Owners?

The act of your cat sleeping with you is a sign that they love and trust you. They not only have their confidence in you-they also love the warmth you generate and want to be near you. Lastly, the blanket or duvet on your bed is a comfort object and is loved by cats.

Conclusion

Cats love backpacks because they are filled with the wonderful scent of their owner as well as the amazing outside world – and it is also an indication to the powerful noses these animals possess.

[prohealths]

Day in the Life (Almost 2.9 Years Old)

Good morning!

So, I missed our Day in the Life post for last month (oops, again), so I figured I would write next month’s post a little early with another mid-month post to make up for it. I also wanted to make sure that I got in this month’s post because it marks such a significant age for our little guy. Our sweet boy turns 2.9 years old next week, which, in the school/daycare world, is a big, important age because it means Qman is old enough for preschool! (Where did my baby go!?) Just this week, his teachers let us know that he’ll start to transition to preschool, splitting time there and in his current toddler classroom. There are two other kids in his class, who are moving to preschool too, so, hopefully, having some buddies will help with the transition. Anyway, here’s a recap from a day in our life earlier this week!

4:01 AM: I wake up drenched in sweat (ugh, annoying), so I get out of bed and change my clothes. I climb back into bed.

4:21 AM: My mind is wandering to my To Do list for the day as well as random things like whether or not baby carrots will freeze well since we have a big bag in the fridge, and I don’t think we’ll eat them all. (Have I mentioned I have an obsession with wasting food!?) I eventually give up on sleep, find my slippers, and head downstairs.

4:23 AM: I break out my laptop, answer a few emails, approve and reply to comments on my blog and social media.

4:45 AM: I pour myself a half glass of iced coffee mixed with Dandy Blend, collagen, and coconut creamer. I read an interesting article about giving up coffee and how it can help improve your skin. Obviously, I have zero interest in giving up my beloved iced coffee, but I figured cutting back would probably help. At home, I typically drink 2-3 glasses of iced coffee per day, so now I’m drinking a 1/2 to 1 glass with Dandy Blend mixed in. It tastes similar to coffee without the caffeine or acidity, and, bonus, dandelion and roasted chicory root are actually really good for you!

4:46 AM: I get to work – busy week ahead!

5:20 AM: Mal comes downstairs, says good morning, and starts to make his breakfast.

5:30 AM: We hear Quinn wake up. He’s whining/crying. We give him a few minutes to settle himself down, but he’s just getting more and more upset. Mal heads upstairs to try to calm him down. (If I go into his room at this hour, he will for sure want to get up and start the day.) I finish making Mal’s breakfast for him.

5:39 AM: Mal doesn’t have any luck with Qman. They come downstairs and head into the living room. I stop working and follow them in, thinking I can score some early-morning toddler cuddles.

5:40 AM: Mal doesn’t turn on the lights in the living room and he’s whispering “lay down” to Quinn, so I assume they worked out some sort of deal that he’ll go back to sleep on the couch. (Qman likes being “downstairs” once he hears that we’re up for the day.)

5:42 AM: All is quiet in the living room, so Mal comes back into the kitchen to eat his breakfast, and I start to work again.

6:00 AM: Quinn starts crying. “Nap time” is over. He wants to watch a show, so I grab my iced coffee and snuggle with him on the couch. We watch Octonauts.

6:19 AM: Quinn asks for a “bar, please,” which has become a morning ritual. He loves cereal bars and would eat them day and night if we let him. I know they have a lot of sugar, but he’s such a picky eater, we’re just happy he’s eating at all, and they’re not ALL bad. The PB& J Bars (gluten-free) as well as the Fig Cereal Bars from Trader Joe’s are actually semi-decent in the sugar department (11g, 13g) compared to other cereal bars, even the ones at Whole Foods (17-19g).

6:22 AM: Qman is content eating his bar and watching TV, so I head upstairs to quickly get ready for the day.

6:35 AM: We say goodbye to Dada.

6:44 AM: I make Quinn and me breakfast. He has mini pancakes, mango, Greek yogurt, and milk for breakfast. I eat scrambled eggs and roasted sweet potatoes. Quinn eats three bites of yogurt and one pancake and says he’s all done. Well, ok then. He starts playing with his cars, so I finish my breakfast and then get him ready for the day.

7:00 AM: Murphy’s all out of dog treats, so Quinn and I make him a batch!

7:45 AM: I pop the dog treats in the oven and clean up the kitchen.

8:00 AM: I offer Quinn his breakfast again. He eats a couple more pancakes, a few more bites of yogurt, and finishes his milk. Woohoo!

8:15 AM: Time for our bi-weekly Early Intervention session. Things are wrapping up with his services (he’s made great strides and probably won’t qualify for another year), so we chat, fill out paperwork, and play LEGOS.

9:30 AM: EI ends. I’m pretty hungry, so I whip up a snack: Apple chunks nuked in microwave with cinnamon on top.

9:39 AM: The doorbell rings, Murphy goes ballistic (the doorbell is his nemesis), and a special delivery arrives from my friends at General Mills...  just in time for National Cereal Day!

Inside the package is a personalized Carrots ‘N’ Cake spoon.

As well as all sorts of fun decorations and activities to celebrate National Cereal Day next Tuesday! FYI: If you follow CNC on Instagram, keep you eyes peeled for a special cereal giveaway!

10:25 AM: Qman tells me that he wants to “go in the car.” Well, ok then! I suggest a few places to go, and he ultimately decides on the “cows,” but immediately clarifies what he really wants to see and says “cat.”

10:42 AM: We arrive at Hornstra Farm and, as soon as I park the car, Quinn’s cat friend approaches us. We follow him around the farm for a solid 20 minutes before briefly stopping to see the cows.

11:06 AM: We head inside the farm store. We shop around for a little bit and ultimately decide to buy some Coffee Toffee ice cream. Great choice, Quinn!

11:10 AM: We leave the store and look for Quinn’s cat friend to say goodbye, but he’s nowhere to be found.

11:30 AM: We arrive home. I make us lunch.

12:15 PM: We finish eating lunch. Qman plays while I clean up.

12:45 PM: Nap time for Quinn.

1:00 PM: Workout time for Mumma!

Wearing: Reebok Nano 7.0 <— super cute, right?

1:30 PM: I take a quick shower, get dressed, and then get to work.

2:45 PM: I’m starting to get hungry, so I break out an RXBAR. Delicious!

3:30 PM: The UPS guy rings our doorbell, Murphy goes ballistic, and wakes up Quinn. Ughhhh. I used to put a note on the front door asking delivery people not to ring the doorbell during nap time, but no one has rung it in ages, so I just stopped doing it. I guess we got a new doorbell-happy UPS man? Blah. #momfail.

3:33 PM: I wait a few minutes to see if Quinn will settle himself down, but he’s getting more and more upset, so I head upstairs to his bedroom. He’s really sad, so I bring him downstairs to the living room. We cuddle on the couch for quite awhile. I keep thinking he’s asleep, but every time I look down at him, his eyes are open. Ha!

3:53 PM: Qman is (suddenly) finished with cuddle time, so he slides off the couch and (literally) runs into his playroom. Such a goof. Apparently, he really wanted to play with his cars at that very moment! Haha!

3:59 PM: Mal arrives home. We catch up and then decide to take a family walk since it’s such a nice day.

4:15 PM: Family walk!

4:55 PM: We arrive home after our walk. The (human) boys add some air to the tires on our jogging stroller while Murphy and I head upstairs for dinner.

4:58 PM: Dinnertime for Murphy!

6:07 PM: Dinnertime for the humans!

6:45 PM: We finish eating dinner. Mal and I tag team the cleaning in the kitchen and then we all have some ice cream for dessert!

7:00 PM: We watch a TV show with Quinn.

7:25 PM: Time to get Quinn ready for bed. Mal takes over pajamas, teeth, and books while I do a little work in my office. I check for “sugar bugs” after Quinn brushes his teeth and then join them for Qman’s favorite book of the moment.

7:55 PM: Bedtime for Quinn.

8:00 PM: Usually, Mal and I watch TV after we put Quinn to bed, but we’re both exhausted, so we get ready for bed ourselves, read for maybe 15 minutes, and then go to sleep.

8:30 PM: Lights out.

The end.

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