#best hospital promotion company

[pepperyduck]

growing old with kento nanami

word count: 2.8k

warnings: post-shibuya arc, descriptions of: surgery, recovery processes, depression, insomnia, trauma, therapy, coping mechanisms; pregnancy, marriage, crying. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this WILL have a part 2 and maybe 3! it will be very long so i'm splitting it up. even though the warnings seem kind of sad i promise it's a happy story :)

part 2 | masterlist

“marry me.”

proposing to you was nanami’s first conscious thought after being in a coma for 5 days after shibuya. you were reading a book, peacefully keeping him company in his hospital room, not even noticing he was awake. your eyes fluttered up from your book, back down, and then up again.

“marry me, please,” he repeated. you stayed silent for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. he wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“kento, oh my god,” you yelped, dropping your book and rushing to the hospital bed to look at him. his eyes were open, only slightly, and the weakest smile he could bear rested on his lips. you gently settled your hands on each side of his face, barely hovering over the charred skin. he looked so tired, and yet, he was asking you to marry him.

kento groaned when you hugged him, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you squeezed him gently and with care. a weak hand rested on your back, in between your shoulder blades. he was too weak to repeat his question again. but the only thing on his mind was if you would be his wife.

“yes, yes, i’ll marry you,” you cried into his chest, wetting the fabric of the hospital clothing.

neither you nor nanami himself understood why he proposed to you in that moment. after waking up, his journey to recovery began with slow but steady progress. it took several months of intense rehabilitation and support from both sorcerers and doctors for him to regain his mobility. with their help, he was able to walk and move with a surprising degree of agility, nearly returning to how he was before shibuya. he also had a few cosmetic surgeries, in an attempt to minimize the scarring from all he had been through. within a few months, he was able to see his skin smooth out and hair grow from the side of his head. he wouldn’t look the same, ever; but you didn’t care. you loved kento, as he did you, the fact you were able to celebrate his recovery made you feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.

the loss of his previous strength and abilities weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits. yet, amidst the struggles, he found solace in small victories and the support of those around him, your support meaning the most to him. although kento was deeply troubled by the realization that he could no longer pursue his life as a sorcerer, he came to accept it as the best possible outcome given the circumstances. this acceptance marked a pivotal shift in his perspective, allowing him to focus on rebuilding his life in new ways. before he turned in his resignation, he had made sure to recommend ino for a promotion. it was his last wish as a sorcerer.

after the almost year-long recovery process, kento surprised you with a beautiful ring, one of the ones you had talked about before he went on his trip. he proposed again, in the place you first met, this time without weak hands and barely audible words. he was able to find a job, one not nearly as draining as his job from before he returned to jujutsu – and began making plans for your wedding. the planning process didn’t take long, he wanted the wedding to make you happy.

your and kento’s wedding was outright beautiful. it was a stunning venue on a beach, hundreds of guests attended, friends and family alike. kento shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle, clad in the most gorgeous attire he’d ever seen you wear, as his bride. his voice shook as he said his vows – vows that he wrote, almost a good 1,000 words – and he made you a million promises. promises he wouldn’t dare to break, promises to grow old together and live the life you both deserve.

at the reception, you told kento you had a surprise for him, and ran off to go get something from one of your bridesmaids. he was confused at first, because he didn’t need any more surprises, he was the happiest he’d ever been. a newlywed, married to you. but when you came back to the table, two small pieces of paper in your hands, he didn’t think it would be possible to be more joyous.

“we’re going to malaysia, for our honeymoon, kento,” you excitedly told him, showing off the two plane tickets scheduled in a week.

nanami was speechless, a huge smile with teeth plastered across his face, and he gave you the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.

when the two of you traveled to malaysia, kento was at peace. he had never seen a place so charming and breathtaking, he remained entranced by the culture and landscapes. the two of you spent your time hiking in nature, watching waterfalls and having lovely picnics wherever felt right. kento was so ecstatic, a smile constant on his face as he watched his surroundings with never-ending wonder. he thanked you a million times over.

you had never seen him be so alive. he promised you that one day, he was going to build a house, right on the beach, just for the two of you.

once you were back at your shared apartment, the reality of the past year and a half hit kento like a train. so much time had been spent recovering, constantly in and out of the hospital, planning for your wedding and improving both of your lives, he never had a chance to reflect on the genuine trauma he went through.

you didn’t notice for a while, but kento grew depressed, and restless at the same time. he began to spend his nights awake, insomnia brewing like piping hot tea, staying conscious until the early hours of the morning, doing any exercise or meditation to calm himself down and go to sleep. yet the visuals replayed over, and over, and over. the blood, the curses, the flames, the death. it hadn’t bothered him before, he thought, but he just never gave himself the time to soak it all in. and the depression – the depression was an all-new low for him. when kento wasn’t working, he was at his house, in the bed, while you were working or off running errands. you only noticed his new behavior when you woke up in an empty bed at 4 a.m. one night, 3 months after your honeymoon.

“mm…kento?” you called, footsteps heavily plopping down the hallway towards the bright lights of your kitchen. when you entered the room, you saw kento sprawled out on the floor, knees bent, with sweat rolling down his forehead. stepping over towards him, you kneeled down to look at him, and his head rolled to the side to look at you, too.

kento’s eyes looked so tired, the eyebags you hadn’t seen in years were full-fledged, his eyelids were droopy and exhausted. just by the emotion his eyes conveyed, you could see he was silently suffering, and he had been that way for a while.

“kento, what’s wrong?” you asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face to rub a thumb over his sweat-glistened cheek.

“i don’t…know,” he replied, defeat in his voice, “i can’t sleep. i haven’t slept. i don’t know.”

your husband always had a plan. he always knew everything; he always took care of the unknown and intimidating parts of life. for kento nanami to say “i don’t know” meant something was wrong, seriously wrong.

“sit up,” you softly demanded, gently pulling his shoulders off the floor. you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and kento mirrored your actions, slumping when he finally sat up. “kento, honey,” you began, taking his hand in yours and resting it on his knee, “what’s going on?”

he was never one to talk about feelings, to talk about emotions felt deep down, because he wasn’t sure how to convey anything that would make him vulnerable. but as he sat in front of you, chest slightly heaving, such a burnt-out expression on his face, you knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but that something needed to be said.

“i can’t…” kento muttered, stopping himself for a second, “i can’t stop thinking.” he finally admitted, causing you to furrow your eyebrows with concern.

“about what, honey?” you sweetly asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, tenderly rubbing back and forth.

“everything.” he stated, eyes flashing away from you to look at the floor next to him. you knew what he meant, though, but you had never seen him so pained from his work, especially from something that happened so long ago.

“tell me, baby,” you soothed him. you grabbed his other hand, causing him to look back at you pitifully. kento stayed silent for numerous moments, unsure as to what you could handle. but you were his wife, someone he was supposed to be able to confide in.

“so many people…died…” he mumbled, “i almost died. i saw what it looked like, i faced death.” his words began to come out quicker, “i’ve never seen that many people die, not even in shinjuku, and there was so much blood, and gojo almost, he almost-,” kento’s voice began to get shaky and uneven, a crack in his words as tears stung his eyes. “gojo almost died, too, and…i almost died, i saw it,” he repeated, “and yuuji – looked so upset, and takuma got hurt,” he clenched his eyes shut, words still coming out as a single string.

you moved closer, shifting onto your knees and wrapping kento in a comforting embrace. he clung to you immediately, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if trying to anchor himself in reality. his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, each breath coming in ragged gasps. the rawness of his anguish was palpable; his cries were filled with a pain that seemed almost too immense to bear. the image of the carnage replayed in his mind, a relentless cycle that he couldn’t escape. kento’s tears soaked through your shirt, repeating with his incoherent murmurs of horror. his face, once so composed, now twisted in an expression of deep, unrelenting despair.

kento wailed into your chest for hours that night, unable to stop his shuttering and repetition of the same phrases. he only calmed down when the sun began to rise, slowly illuminating the insides of your home. once kento parted his head from your chest, he looked you in the eyes, asking for help without saying a word. you wiped away his tears and grabbed the sides of his face, promising him you will get him anything he needs. kento fell asleep around 7 a.m. that morning, with the help of you running your fingers through his hair, shushing him and telling him it will all be okay.

he believed you. kento nanami put all his faith in you, his wife, to help him fix his problem he hadn’t an idea on how to mend. and so, you did everything in your power to help him. you spent countless hours on research, finding therapists that specialized in helping people like him, and you came across different mechanisms to help him cope. most of all, you continued your duties as a supportive wife, constantly telling him to get up and go to the supermarket, or out to the library. little by little, these smaller things combined together to work out, and kento began to get better. it was a breath of fresh air, as well as a weight lifted off both your and his shoulders, when he began to smile again, and shifted his view of life to a more positive outlook. he was alive, he began to feel alive again.

kento nanami was finally beginning to live the life he desired and deserved, all with you by his side.

a couple of weeks after kento’s 30th birthday, you came rushing into his office, tears of joy — and anxiety — pricked in your eyes. soon as his eyes landed on your seemingly upset expression, he was concerned.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the desk to stand up. you quickly closed the door behind you, leaning against it, and you dug around in your purse to pull out a small plastic baggie. when you tossed them to kento, it only took him a few seconds to realize what you were there to tell him.

“…you’re pregnant?” kento beamed, rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist. he quickly lifted you up in the air, grip so tight as if he never wanted to let go, your feet kicked happily.

kento always wanted to have kids, but being a sorcerer, he always thought it was too dangerous. you had some conversations about it after shibuya, and the both of you agreed that if it happened, it happened. and your children would have the best life possible, of course; but the glimmer of hope you had for having kids slowly burnt out over time with both of you increasing in age. in that moment, though, kento had so much hope and pure happiness, just at the thought of growing a little family with you.

the first few months of your pregnancy were hectic. between doctor’s appointments, mixed with morning sickness and fatigue, you thought it would never end. although you were happy to start a family, negative emotions easily overcame you, and kento noticed. he tried his best to be there for you, but his work schedule conflicted with your lives, and he soon realized he needed a change in his life. he needed to change your life and his, because he would be damned if he was going to return to the same boring life as he had before.

using his savings and bonus money from his job, he bought you a house. a real house, with acres of land and space for your family to grow, so much bigger than the previous apartment you shared with him. a house that he owned, a house that would contain all the joy for your future. he made sure it was grand, with a huge kitchen, and multiple bedrooms – not caring if only two of them were filled, or if all of them housed someone. before kento showed you the house, he set up a nursery.

“where are we going?” you inquired for about the 50th time that day. you had been in the car for hours, and all kento would say in return is, “you’ll find out.” nonetheless, you were excited, kento had always given you the best surprises, but you had never driven so far with him.

“we’re here.” kento stated, pulling into an empty concrete driveway big enough to fit 6 cars.

“where are we? did satoru move?” you asked, the huge display of a home proving to be a bit intimidating for you. kento didn’t reply this time, he only scurried out of the car to come and open your door, helping you get out with a kind hand.

you didn’t even understand what was going on until you walked up the front steps, and a few keys jingled in kento’s hands until he found the right one to unlock the door. the door to your new home.

“wait...wait. kento,” you said, standing still as your husband strode inside, “what is this?” the familiar tears of joy rushed to your eyes, and you just stood there with a shocked expression plastered on your face.

“this is our new home, honey,” kento chimed, reaching a hand out again to welcome you inside. you took his hand, albeit a little hesitantly, and stepped inside your house.

“oh, kento,” you blubbered, throwing your arms around his neck, tears beginning to trickle down your face.

you and kento explored the house for hours, marveling at all the space and beauty he bought for you. you thanked him a million times over, crying at each new space you discovered in the house, you felt sheer gratefulness for your husband and all he did for you. and kento, well, he did all of it to thank you, to thank you for never losing hope in him, and to thank you for the joy you’d made him experience. he was so undeniably in love with you, just as he had always been, and he promised himself he was going to do everything in his power to live the life he deserved with you. he was going to live up to every word he made in his vows, every promise he made with you, each and every word he had spoken to you was going to show in your lives.

even from the moment he met you, he knew he was going to spend his life with you.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee @starlightanyaaa @lagataprrr @hazzelle-kento

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TEN)

Masterlist

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. My health has just been crap, had two hospitalizations for my chronic illness that got a flare up, but I'm back to writing now, with a long chapter!

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 6K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, angst, bestfriend!reader, fluff, tortuously slow smut scene, seduction, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), handjob (m!&f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), making out, dirty talk, sub!oscar, dom!oscar, switch!oscar

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

Oscar and Lando walked into Zak's office, the atmosphere immediately feeling thick with an unspoken tension. Zak stood by the window, looking out over the track before turning to face them with a serious expression.

"Take a seat, both of you," Zak said, his tone firm but not unkind. Oscar could feel his stomach twist with apprehension, Lando beside him shuffling awkwardly in his chair. Zak took a deep breath, folding his arms. "Alright, boys, let's cut straight to the chase. Oscar," he began, locking eyes with the young driver, "you need to watch out for your image. I understand things happen—you're young, life's fast, and sometimes emotions get the best of you. But kissing someone in public that you're not publicly dating, especially when that someone is a co-worker... it's not a smart move."

Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but Zak held up a hand to stop him. "The media's already catching on. Whispers are starting to circulate, and we need to get ahead of this before it turns into a full-blown story." Zak walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it. "That's why we've discussed the subject within the team and have a proposition for you" he started, taking a breath "The idea is to put you in a publicity stunt—a fake relationship with a girl. Someone from outside the company, someone who can help steer the narrative away from... well, from the internal complications."

Oscar blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and disbelief. "A fake relationship?" he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. Zak nodded. "It's the best way to simmer down the talk. Give the media something else to focus on. You don't have to like it, Oscar, but it's probably what's best for now. We can't afford any distractions right now." Oscar nodded gently to his words, before Zak spoke up again "Or is there anything that we should maybe know about? Something more to the whole ordeal?"

The young Australian swallowed audibly, getting a little nervous "N-No, it's fine"

Lando noticed that Oscar didn't know what to say, visibly uncomfortable about it "He already got the lecture from Sophie" he said, taking a deep breath "I'm pretty sure he's aware that it was a very stupid mistake" Zak wordlessly agreed with Lando, so he continued on without more lecturing words. He looked at Oscar "So, what do you say?"

Lando shifted in his seat "Before he answers that, uh, why am I here, exactly?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Zak turned to him, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, well. We kinda had a similar proposition for you as well. If you'd both agree, we would set yours up in about 2 weeks after Oscar's" Lando's eyes widened. "What? Why?" Zak chuckled softly. "Come on, Lando. You haven't exactly been subtle with your... escapades with Daniel." Zak's tone was light, but his expression remained serious. "You've been trying to be, but it's starting to look pretty obvious." Lando flushed, glancing sideways at Oscar, who raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "I'm not against it," Zak continued, "Not at all. But you need to think about what you're doing. If the media catches wind of it... if anything goes wrong... it'll bite you in the ass, hard." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, you want me to fake-date someone too, just to throw them off?" Zak nodded. "Exactly. We need to control the narrative before the narrative controls us." Oscar exchanged a glance with Lando, both of them feeling the weight of Zak's words settle on their shoulders. "Understood," Oscar finally said, his voice steady. "I'll do it if it's necessary." Lando hesitated for a moment, then nodded as well. "Yeah... me too. Whatever it takes." Zak smiled, clapping his hands together. "Good. Glad we're all on the same page. Now, let's get to work."

"So, any details on how we're supposed to do this then? Like, for how long? And what do you expect from us regarding those girls?"

Zak looked at the two boys "Well, at least a month, I guess. I think that'll do to simmer down the suspicions "We'll find a girl for you that looks a little like Y/n, just so people think that the girl in the press picture was that girl" 

Oscar nodded, shifting awkwardly in his seat, not really knowing how to act about this.

"From there we want to start with her joining you in the paddock during a race. Maybe hold her hand, give her a kiss, pretending to be subtle, while you actually just want the cameras to catch on to it" Zak explained, leaning back in his chair "Just do couple-like stuff with her. Share a picture of you both on social media, or don't. That's up to you. After a month, you can just give a short explanation on your social media about how you were dating, but mutually decided to break up and are better off as friends" 

Lando shook his head "Do you have any idea how complicated this sounds?" he explained "I'm a formula 1 driver, not an actor. How do you expect me to fake being in love with someone?"

Zak sighed "I understand, Lando. You both don't have to do this if you really don't want to, but we all think it might be the best way to fight off the suspicions, in both of your cases" 

Oscar shifted his eyes from his lap back to the man in front of him "So you even want us to kiss the girls in question?" he asked

"I'm not forcing you into anything, but I think we both know that the media will have a hard time believing that you're dating someone if you refuse to kiss them" 

Later that day

Oscar was sprawled out belly down on his bed in his hotel room, replaying the conversation in his head over and over again. Lando was lying on the couch opposite Oscar’s bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Fucking hell, mate,” Oscar muffled into his pillow, his voice heavy with frustration. “How am I even supposed to tell her this?”

Lando chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess using words would work,” he sassed, earning a glare from the Australian driver.

Oscar rolled his eyes before grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it across the room. Lando puffed out an exaggerated “Ooff,” then tossed the pillow back. “Hey! I was just trying to diffuse the tension.”

Sitting up against the headboard, Oscar sighed deeply. “I know, but I honestly don’t know how to break it to her.” His voice softened as he admitted, “I know it’s weird talking about this since she’s your sister and all, but I honestly don’t want to hurt her.”

Lando offered a sympathetic smile, sensing the weight behind Oscar’s words. “It’s okay, I’m fine with talking about it. I know you mean well,” Lando reassured him.

Oscar’s shoulders slumped as he pulled his knees toward his chest. “It’s just… I felt like things were finally going in the right direction. And now this shit happens. You know how much that sucks? I thought I finally had a chance to win over the girl of my dreams.” His voice trembled slightly, the frustration clear in his tone. “And now I have to pretend I’m in love with some random girl and kiss her in public… with her right there.”

Lando noticed the glint of emotion in Oscar’s eyes, his usually calm and collected friend on the verge of tears. “I honestly don’t know what to say. It just sucks so much,” Lando admitted, sounding defeated himself. “Maybe you can just tell Zak you don’t want to do it if it makes you feel this bad.”

“I’m not doing this for me,” Oscar mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m doing this for her. I don’t want her career to be ruined because of me.”

Lando sat up, his tone more serious now. “It’s not your fault, Osc. It takes two to tango.”

Tears started to fall down Oscar’s cheeks as he shook his head. “It is my fault. I should’ve suppressed my feelings. I shouldn’t have bothered her with them. She’s my best friend, your sister, and my damn trainer.”

“Look, Osc,” Lando said gently, "Osc, your her best friend as well, you're her client, you're her brothers teammate. She’s just as responsible as you are. It’s not all on you.”

Oscar’s voice cracked. “I just don’t want people to think less of her. I don’t want the press to call her a gold digger or say she’s using me. If fake dating some random model stops all this crap, I’ll do it.” He rambled on, not realizing how much he was pouring out his heart. “You know, if the drama would be just about me, the decision would be easy. I wouldn’t even consider the PR stunt, I couldn’t care less about my career when it cones to her. Hell, I’d even quit racing for her. She's all I think about. When I close my eyes, all I see is her. Lando, I am so in love with her it hurts”

Lando’s eyes widened, the weight of Oscar’s confession hitting him hard. After a brief pause, he spoke softly. “Mate, you’re not going to lose her over this. I know she’s not going to think less of you or let this ruin things between you. I mean, it’s obvious you care about her so much, and even if you’re not officially dating… it’s there. Anyone can see that. You should go for it.”

Oscar shook his head, his expression filled with uncertainty. “But I don’t want to risk her losing her job because of this.”

Lando leaned forward, his tone thoughtful. “But what if people don’t react the way we think? What if… instead of weird reactions, people actually love seeing you two together? A lot of drivers get shipped with each other, and the media loves my sister. Why wouldn’t they love you two together? Maybe we’re afraid of reactions that won’t even be there.”

Oscar hesitated, his brow furrowing. “But… we’re not even dating, Lando. I don’t even know what we are. We don’t have a label or anything. It’s all so uncertain.”

Lando grinned slightly. “Mate, the only reason you two aren’t official is because of your jobs and what other people might think. But even a blind person could see how in love you both are. You’re holding back for the wrong reasons. Don’t let that stop you.”

Oscar looked down, his emotions swirling inside him. “I just… I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

“Talk to her,” Lando urged. “She’ll understand. She’s smart, and she knows this whole fake relationship is just business. Nothing between you and that random girl means anything. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Oscar remained quiet for a moment, processing everything. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered, his voice wavering with uncertainty.

“And don’t give up on her,” Lando added with a soft smile. “You care about her more than anyone else. My sister deserves someone who loves her as much as you do, and I know you’ll treat her well. Don’t let this fake PR crap get in the way of your own happiness.”

Oscar nodded, still uncertain but feeling the weight of Lando’s words sink in.

“If you need me to talk to her too, I will,” Lando offered. “A brother-sister chat might help clear her mind. Just keep communicating with her, Osc. You’ll get through this.”

The two drivers continued discussing the situation, with Oscar ultimately deciding that, for her sake, he didn’t want to risk going public yet. But he knew Lando was right—she would understand. It wasn’t ideal, and it sucked for both of them, but they had to keep talking, keep trusting each other.

“Yeah, it sucks,” Lando sighed, “but you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Oscar smiled "Enough about me now, what about you and Danny, are you okay?" Oscar then asked.

Lando nodded "It sucks of course, but I think it's for the best, you know. Danny will understand. He knows how this world works" he explained, playing with the string of his hoodie as he spoke "Besides, Danny is well aware of my feelings for him. Things have been going steady between us for a while now, it's just that we both aren't really in the mood to drop the 'We are both bisexual and dating our former teammate' bomb, yet. So if this is the solution for us to continue under the radar a bit more, then I'm sure he's fine with it" 

"That's good to hear" Oscar replied, a soft smile sporting his face. 

"So, you're not grossed out about me dating a dude?" Lando asks, a little nervous, even though deep down he knew the answer. 

Oscar shook his head immediately "Why would I be? Wouldn't make a difference if it were a boy or a girl, now would it? As long as the person makes you happy, I'm fine with anything" he says with a smile

"Besides, it was quite obvious you were into both men and women from the start. I think everyone within McLarens has the suspicion" Oscar chuckles.

A few hours later

Oscar had invited you to his hotel room for a cozy movie night before the chaos of race weekend officially began. That’s how you found yourself now, nestled comfortably in his arms on the soft bed, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The movie was playing, but neither of you was really paying attention. Instead, your focus had shifted to the weightier topic Oscar had brought up—one that hung in the air between you both.

He’d already explained the situation. Told you what Zak had proposed. He’d kept the details brief, just covering the essentials. There was going to be a PR relationship—a fake one—with another girl. Zak thought it was best for both your images, and Oscar had agreed, reluctantly, explaining that there didn’t seem to be much of a choice in the matter. He looked torn as he spoke, clearly not on board with the idea but unsure of any other way forward.

You weren’t happy with it either, though deep down, you’d expected something like this. The media had been buzzing for days, and the rumors surrounding you both were becoming harder to manage. Agreeing to the plan felt like the safest route for now, despite the unease that settled in your chest.

Oscar sighed softly, his breath warm against your hair. “But… what about us, though?” he asked, his voice laced with hesitation.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He averted his gaze for a moment, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t want to… try things with me anymore. If you have to watch me kiss someone else, even if it’s fake. I can imagine you wanting to call it quits.”

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, his uncertainty over how you felt. Slowly, you removed yourself from his embrace and shifted your position, climbing onto his lap so you could face him directly. His wide eyes followed your every movement as you settled on top of him.

"It’s not like you're kissing her by choice,” you said softly, your hand lifting to cup his jaw. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, and you leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. “I'm assuming she's not the one making you feel like this, now is she?”

Without waiting for an answer, you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. The moment your lips touched his skin, Oscar let out a soft, guttural groan, the sound almost desperate as his hands instinctively gripped your waist. Encouraged by his reaction, you trailed your lips higher, finding the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. You pressed a soft kiss there before sucking gently, enough to elicit another quiet sound from him, a mix of pleasure and restraint.

“You can fake date her all you want,” you murmured, your lips brushing his skin as you spoke. “But as long as I’m the one making you moan at night, none of it matters.” You continued to kiss along the curve of his neck, your lips slow and purposeful, savoring every inch of his skin.

Oscar’s breathing grew heavier, and you felt the tension in his body as his hands tightened their grip on your hips. His heart was pounding beneath your palm as you slid your hand over his chest, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath his shirt. You let your fingers trail down, tracing the defined lines of his torso through the fabric, your touch feather-light and teasing. It riled you up to see how sensitive Oscar is to your touch. How you can make him tremble with something as little as a kiss and a few words. You absolutely loved it.

“I know it’s me who makes you feel like this,” you whispered seductively, your voice barely above a breath as your lips moved closer to his ear again. “I’m the one who gets you like this, aren’t I?”

Oscar whimpered softly in response, his breath catching as your hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers grazing the bare skin of his abdomen. He was trembling now, his body betraying how deeply your touch affected him.

“I want to hear you say it,” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Tell me, Oscar. Tell me how I make you feel.”

His response was almost immediate, though his voice was strained, barely able to form words through the haze of desire. “You… you make me feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice laced with need. “No one else—no one makes me feel like you do.”

You smiled at his confession, your lips curving as you kissed his jawline, slowly making your way back to his lips. Your fingers slid up his chest, your nails lightly grazing his skin, drawing more breathy moans from him as you continued your slow, torturous seduction.

When your lips finally met his, you kissed him slowly, deeply, your tongue teasing his as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at the strands. The combination of your touch and your kiss had him whimpering beneath you, his hands pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to have any distance between you.

“You might have to kiss someone else in public,” you whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak, your eyes dark with desire. “But I know I’m the one who gets you like this. I’m the one who makes you feel good.”

Oscar groaned again, the sound desperate as his hands moved to your thighs, squeezing softly. His breaths were ragged, his body trembling beneath you, the tension between you both thick enough to cut through. He was completely at your mercy, lost in the slow burn of your teasing.

Your lips trailed back to his neck, and you could feel his pulse racing under your tongue as you kissed along the column of his throat, sucking gently on the skin as you moved. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath you, each gasp and moan a testament to how much he was losing control under your touch.

“Tell me what you're thinking, baby” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Oscar's breath hitched, his voice barely more than a strained groan. “I want you... to touch me,” he whimpered, his desperation raw. “I need you. Please.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips again, your hand sliding down his chest, savoring the way his body shuddered beneath your touch. You could feel the heat between you building, the anticipation thick in the air as you took your time, savoring every moment of his response.

He was yours—every groan, every shiver, every whispered confession. And you weren’t done with him yet. You loved the dynamic between Oscar and you. How one day Oscar could be the dominant one, but could switch to being completely at your mercy the other moment.

Your lips curved into a smile, savoring the power of his plea as you moved your hand slowly across his chest, teasing him further. "You've got to be more specific, Osc" Your lips pressed softly against the spot just below his jaw. “Tell me where you want me to touch you"

Oscar hesitated, his hands instinctively moving to guide yours lower, but you pulled away just enough to stop him. “Nuh-uh,” you tsked softly, a playful smirk on your lips. “I need you to tell me. Use your words.”

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, his hand dropping back onto the bed in defeat. He tried to stifle a whimper, but you could feel the need pulsing through him. Your fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down his torso, ghosting over the fabric of his shirt and sending sparks of sensation through his body. You paused just above his waistband, feeling the tension radiating from him, but deliberately avoided the spot you knew he was craving.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” you asked, letting your fingers trail along his hip before moving back up to his stomach. His muscles tensed under your touch, a soft groan escaping his lips.

You chuckled softly, your lips trailing to his ear as you whispered, “Or here?” Your hand moved to his chest, fingertips tracing circles around his nipples. Oscar bit his lip, his breath catching in his throat as his hips shifted beneath you, desperate for more. But you stayed teasing, your hand wandering, purposefully avoiding where he needed you the most.

"Tell me," you murmured again, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Oscar whimpered, his voice strained and breathless. “I want… I want you to touch me,” he stammered, the words faltering as if he couldn't quite bring himself to say them fully. There was a part of him still clinging to the last shred of control, though deep down, he knew how much he craved letting go. The truth was, he loved this—loved you taking charge, more than he ever dared to admit. His body betrayed him, responding so eagerly to your dominance.

His eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against the pillows as you continued your slow, deliberate torment. Every brush of your lips, every whisper of your touch, sent a fresh wave of electricity through him. He gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white, his body trembling under the weight of his need. The intensity of his desire threatened to overwhelm him, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more, savoring the sweet torture of your control.

You smiled against his skin, your lips brushing his jawline as you murmured, “Touch you where, Osc? Tell me exactly where you need me.”

He groaned in frustration, his body writhing beneath yours, aching for release. “Touch me… there. Please,” he whispered, his voice so raw it sent a surge of heat through you. “I need to feel your hands around my dick.”

A low hum of satisfaction left your throat as you finally let your fingers slip lower, teasing the waistband of his joggers, the heat radiating from his body pulling you in closer. “Good boy,” you purred softly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin as your lips trailed along the curve of his neck, planting a lingering kiss that sent shivers down his spine.

Oscar’s reaction was immediate—his whole body tensed beneath you, hips instinctively jerking upward, desperate for more contact. The sound of your praise hung in the air between you, its effect unmistakable. He let out a soft, strangled groan, the sound thick with need, as if those two simple words had unlocked something deep inside him. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted in a breathless moan, and his chest rose and fell in uneven, rapid breaths.

You could feel him twitch beneath your touch, the heat and anticipation rolling off him in waves. The mere sound of your voice calling him a 'good boy' had clearly struck a chord, one he was too overwhelmed to put into words but too aroused to hide. A thin bead of precome slicked against your fingers as you brushed over him, his body betraying just how much he enjoyed the praise—more than he would ever dare to admit aloud.

His hands fumbled for something to hold onto, gripping the sheets beneath him as he squirmed under your touch. “Fuck…” he whimpered, his voice breaking. His reaction was so visceral, so raw, that you could feel how much control he was fighting to keep, how much he craved your touch

Your hand stayed teasingly light, fingers barely grazing him as you moved lower, your touch enough to make him throb beneath you, every sensation amplified by the tension in his body. You smiled against his neck, savoring how easily you could make him come undone with nothing but your touch and your words.

“You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his ear. His answer came in the form of another groan, his hips bucking once again, leaking more in response to your gentle touch, his desperation growing with every passing second.

The flush on his skin deepened, the way his body reacted betraying the depth of his desire. You could feel the tremble in his thighs, the way his breathing hitched each time your fingers brushed over him, how his whole body seemed to lean into every touch, silently begging for more.

“I bet you love hearing that,” you murmured, fingers curling just enough to give him a hint of pressure, your words laced with amusement and seduction. “Admit it, Oscar. You like being called a good boy, don’t you?”

He let out a shaky breath, his body jolting at the words, unable to hold back any longer. “Y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice strained and trembling, so close to unraveling completely under the weight of his need. He pressed his head back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through him, his body a live wire of sensitivity.

“Good boy,” you repeated, the words rolling off your tongue like honey as your hand moved just a little firmer, eliciting a strangled moan from Oscar that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. The way he responded to you was intoxicating, his body fully under your control as he writhed beneath you, craving every touch, every whisper, every teasing word.

He couldn’t help it—he twitched again in your hand, the dampness of his arousal slick against your fingers as he leaked more precome, his desperation making it clear just how much he wanted to give in. The pleasure was almost too much for him to handle, his body caught in that sweet spot between torture and ecstasy.

And you weren’t done with him yet.

Your lips found his neck again, trailing soft kisses along his skin, whispering between each one, “See? No random girl could ever make you feel like this… right, Osc?”

He whimpered in response, his breathing ragged as he squirmed beneath you. “No… only you,” he groaned, his hands gripping your waist as if he needed something to anchor him in the storm of sensation you were unleashing on him.

You smiled, savoring his surrender, your fingers stroking him slowly, deliberately, drawing out every sound he made. His body trembled beneath you, each moan and whimper fueling your teasing touches as you kissed along his jawline, down to his collarbone, then back up to his ear.

“Are you thinking about that girl you have to fake date now? Thinking about if she's pretty, if she could make you feel like this too?” you teased softly, your voice dripping with seduction as your hand tightened just slightly around him. 

Oscar shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “No… never. Just you.”

You kissed him deeply then, your tongue slipping past his lips, slow and sensual, tasting the desperation in his breath. His hands gripped you tighter, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. His heart was racing, the pulse of his need pounding through him as your hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re mine, Osc,” you whispered against his lips, your hand quickening its pace ever so slightly. “No matter who you have to pretend with, it’s me who makes you feel this good, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whimpered, his voice barely coherent as he bucked against your hand, his body trembling with anticipation. “Only you… please…”

You grinned, knowing how close he was, and kissed him once more, slowly, deeply, savoring every moment of his unraveling. "That’s right. I’m the one that makes you feel like this. No one else.”

Oscar’s moans grew louder, his body trembling beneath your touch as you finally gave him what he’d been begging for, his breaths coming in short gasps as he lost himself completely in you. Every groan, every whimper, every desperate plea filled the air between you, his pleasure so intense it left him barely able to form words.

As you kissed along his neck again, you took his hands in yours and moved them from your back down to cup your ass, squeezing lightly.

His response was nothing but a breathless whimper as he gripped you tighter, his body arching into yours, completely at your mercy.

The teasing, the slow build-up, and your seductive whispers had him lost, spiraling into ecstasy. You could feel him slipping away, utterly consumed by the intensity of what you were doing to him, and you smiled against his skin, knowing that only you could bring him to this point.

Oscar’s moans filled the room, raw and unrestrained, his entire body shaking as he gave in, letting you take him to the edge of oblivion. And as he finally reached that peak, his voice cracked, your name falling from his lips in a broken, breathless moan.

You smiled, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered one last time, “That’s right, Oscar. You're mine"

It took Oscar a moment to slip back into reality before he sat up on the bed, his chest still heaving from the high they had just shared. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed in one swift, effortless motion, holding you close to him. You gasped, half-laughing in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a playful smile tugged at your lips.

He kicked open the door to the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently down on the edge of the sink, the cool countertop a stark contrast to the warmth radiating between the two of you. Oscar walked over to the shower, turning the water on with a steady hand, before striding back to you, his presence suddenly more commanding, more assertive.

Standing between your legs, his body pressed firmly against yours, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Showing you that you’re mine too,” he whispered, his voice low, seductive, full of intention “You belong to me.”

Before you could respond, Oscar’s lips were on your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers through your body. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging it gently as he tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to his assault. He kissed his way down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

“I’m not letting you wait for the water to warm up,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his fingers already tracing the hem of your dress, slipping underneath to brush against your skin. He gripped the fabric, pulling it up with one swift motion before tossing it carelessly to the floor, his eyes devouring you, the hunger in them unmistakable.

His hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing, barely grazing you at first, drawing out the anticipation. He could feel how sensitive you were, how ready. You let out a soft moan as he pressed his lips against your jaw, trailing kisses down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers found their way inside you, moving slowly, torturously, making you squirm beneath him.

“You’re mine,” he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. “No one else can touch you like this. Only me.” His fingers curled inside you just right, hitting all the right spots, and you let out a breathless whimper in response, your body arching into him. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice commanding but still gentle. “Tell me you’re mine.”

His smirk grew as you struggled to hold back, his fingers now moving with more purpose, each touch a mix of pleasure and dominance. 

"I-I'm yours" you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence "F-Fuck, this feels so good"

He smirked, pleased with your reaction, his thumb brushing over you in just the right way, coaxing even more desperate sounds from your lips. "That's it... let me hear you," he murmured, his voice commanding but still gentle, coaxing out every bit of pleasure as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

When he finally couldn’t take it any longer, he scooped you up in his arms again, carrying you toward the shower. The water had begun to steam up the glass as he pressed your back against the cool tiles, the heat from the shower blending with the heat from his body. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep, passionate, filled with need. The water poured over both of you, soaking your skin as Oscar's hands roamed your body, his fingers tangling in your hair, his palms gripping your hips, your thighs, every inch of you.

Without breaking the kiss, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding down your sides as the water cascaded down your bodies. He kissed your inner thighs, his lips agonizingly slow as they made their way higher, teasing you just as you had done to him before. You could feel the smirk on his lips as he drew closer, his breath hot against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.

“You’re my girl,” he said softly, his voice laced with dominance as he looked up at you from his knees. “No one else can have you. Not now, not ever.” Then, without warning, his tongue flicked out, teasing you with the lightest touch. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue worked slow, deliberate circles, driving you mad with desire.

His hands roamed your body as he continued his slow torment, one gripping your ass, the other sliding up your back, pulling you closer to him. He was everywhere at once, his touch all-consuming, his tongue alternating between soft strokes and firmer pressure, teasing you, driving you to the edge.

Oscar’s fingers joined his tongue, sliding into you in perfect sync with the rhythm he set, the slow, torturous pace making you tremble. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers was designed to push you higher, the tension in your body building with each passing second.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he whispered between strokes, his breath hot against you, and when you couldn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure, he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” His tongue circled again, his fingers curling just right, and your body responded, arching into him, your grip on his hair tightening as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

He continued to work you over, switching between his tongue and fingers, his touches slow, purposeful, drawing out every sound, every moan. His hands never stopped exploring, roaming your body, massaging your thighs, your hips, your breasts, every inch of you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally reached your peak, it was as if the world around you disappeared. You shattered against him, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, and Oscar didn’t stop, carrying you through it, his tongue and fingers still working you until the very last tremor left your body.

“That's it, baby” he whispered softly, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness as he kissed his way back up your body, pulling you close as the water continued to soak you both.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor

[genericpuff]

Hold up, I'm curious now about when you said "Perse is a menace to lower nymphs" I thought at best she was neutral to some but I don't remember her ever just being outright horrible. Though that can very well just be my rose-colored glasses activating in the earlier parts of the story.

Oh geez let's see...

There was the time Persephone left Alex alone in the hospital room with the guy who had assaulted him and beat him half to death because he was "rude" (i.e. reasonably reacting to these two showing their faces around him):

And that time Persephone blackmailed Minthe to teach her how to do the job she was underqualified for two days after Hades had broken up with her and Persephone claimed to feel guilty:

Also that time she turned Minthe into a plant and then proceeded to not give a shit about her moments afterwards so she could flirt with the guy who she unapologetically had an affair with (in front of the plantified Minthe who she knew could hear them):

And then when she finally did turn Minthe back to normal, she immediately victimized herself over Minthe justifiably being angry:

And then there was that time she cornered Tori (former roommate of Alex) at his job to essentially berate him, all because of "gossip" that Tori had said ten fucking years ago (as if the gossip wasn't entirely true, it was Tori reacting to Alex getting mutilated by her boyfriend who she never really held accountable):

And all those times Persephone tried to claim she was being stifled by the nymphs in the Mortal Realm but then had the balls to claim she was "lonely" even though she literally had friends and sisters surrounding her who she wanted to get away from:

And then the icing on the cake, far more recently, that time she broke into the home of a nymph woman who had already embarrassed herself, just to threaten her, something that she was rewarded for by her husband:

She said ALL of that while failing to acknowledge the fact that she did the exact same thing to Minthe when she was with Hades. And she's not sorry for it, but she hypocritically tries to take the moral high ground as if she's never done the same thing.

Gee, I wonder how she could have turned out this way?

Persephone never really felt guilty for the things she did throughout the series, and she never took responsibility for her actions that affected others, in some cases she was flat out rewarded for her vitriol. And though this may not be intentional on Rachel's part, she comes across as someone who claims she was "lonely", when really she meant she just didn't have the company she specifically wanted - the company of gods, specifically male gods such as Hades.

Yes, the narrative tries to justify Persephone's actions towards these characters specifically - Alex, Minthe, Tori, Leuce, etc. - but fails to highlight the power imbalance where Persephone comes out on top just for being a goddess. Minthe reported her to Zeus for the wrong reasons, but she still deserved to go to trial for committing and hiding an Act of Wrath. Alex had no idea Persephone was a goddess and she never really did anything to take accountability for what Hades did to him. Tori's only crime was calling her a "dark concubine" a couple times ten years ago, something she absolutely should have let go of by now. Leuce had already embarrassed herself by trying to make the moves on Hades, so breaking into her home and filling it with farm animals and threatening her accomplished nothing beyond stroking Persephone's ego trip.

And that's not getting into how the narrative as a whole promotes mistreatment towards nymphs and satyrs (i.e. lower class people) so Persephone and Hades being in the upper class is similar to billionaires in the real world - they only achieved that wealth on the backs of the lower class, so they're part of the problem, not the exception to it. And these are the characters we're supposed to be rooting for.

I rest my case.

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

welcome to night vale kind of sucks

I can't believe I'm doing this again but here goes: I'm writing a call out post for the behaviors made by my favorite podcasters. I love Night Vale. Let me make that clear. My whole blog is Night Vale. I've cosplayed Night Vale. I've been in this fandom for eight years, and I've been holding out hope that the show will become "good" again for a long time. I've been a fan while simultaneously acknowledging some of their very harmful behavior. But this last episode just really cemented for me how the issues with their writing are not just failures of plot and theme, they are actively harming the communities that support them. Night Vale has turned from the show that canonized a queer relationship in 2013 and celebrated its thousands of fans, to something devoid of passion and almost unrecognizable in its messaging. These issues have been present for a while, but now they are everywhere in the show. They're completely overwhelming.

Why did an abused person not only forgive their abuser and say that he was "doing the best he could"? No, really - we had an entire season about generational trauma, a deeply personal topic for many people, and then you paint an abusive father as "misguided"? It's a slap in the face. Why do prominent female characters, particularly antagonists, always get either killed off or written out of the story by... ascending into the stars I guess? (So Lauren's the most powerful foe ever but then she's defeated by six people telling her they don't like her. Cool cool.) Why did the writers deradicalize a Black woman whose original story was about her courage and opposition to authority? Why was Tamika's role this season to be a caretaker for The Boy instead of her position in local government? Why is there only one recurring trans character in the show?

The worst thing of all for me though is the partnership with Betterhelp. Betterhelp, which sells people's data and has been called out for it time and time again. There was no excuse for them to take this sponsorship, especially when, oh yeah people were calling it out for endorsing conversion therapy. There are doctors on Betterhelp who have OFFERED CONVERSION THERAPY, and that's who they're promoting to their majority queer audience. But there's especially no excuse for this sponsorship when BetterHelp is collaborating with the Israeli Occupation Force. When Betterhelp is publicly associating itself with the army that burns people alive, that bombs hospitals, and is actively colonizing Palestine.

And before anyone says, "Mercury, why are you only writing a call out for the Betterhelp thing now after you didn't like this episode?" Well, I've been publicly calling them out for MONTHS over this. I've replied to almost every episode's Q&A to tell them they need to stop this partnership as well as replying to them on their socials asking why they're still working with this company.

Plus, this isn't just me disliking this episode - I'm seeing posts on the wtnv tag from abuse survivors who got extremely triggered by this and it just breaks my heart. Genuinely, why did they do that? This arc had such beautiful and introspective writing about parenting and it feels like they just threw it all away.

I don't know what note to end this on. I really hope they take their hiatus to reassess some business practices and write a better season. And mostly that they stop partnering with Betterhelp.

@nightvaleofficial

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One direction fics where one of the characters is starting a new job and has an embarrassing situation due to meeting a co-worker prior to starting the new job as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Harry/Louis—

୭ you are my destiny (you are the reason that i still believe) by @alwaysxlarrie

(M, 98k, boss/employee) What he hadn't expected was for Louis Tomlinson to waltz into their company, and his life, and change around everything he thought he knew about fate. A Cinderella AU.

୭ Do Not Go Gentle by @afirethatcannotdie

(E, 70k, hospital) A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

୭ i'll crash until you notice me by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci

(M, 61k, boss/employee) Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill.

୭ You're the Light by @allwaswell16

(E, 31k, boss/employee) What he finds on his first day of work is a tall, gorgeous editor named Harry who has the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen—and who also happens to be his new boss.

୭ The Greenback Boogie by @lewiswilliamstyles

(E, 28k, boss/employee) When they see each other on Harry's first day of work, it was not the first time they met. The Suits inspired AU no one asked for.

୭ Every Lover's Got A Little Dagger In Their Hand by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(E, 22k, enemies to lovers) Does the attraction between two complete opposites really exist, or is it just a myth?

୭ Into This Mess by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(E, 20k, enemies to lovers) The first day of Louis’ promotion is going well, far better than he expected. That is until his new partner shows up, who just so happens to be the guy who stumbled half-dressed out of his flat that same morning.

୭ Secrets, Santa? by @indiaalphawhiskey

(E, 19k, boss/employee) Right, okay, so Harry had confessed his deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets to a stranger who turned out to be his boss. No big deal.

୭ Up All Night for Good Fun by @berzerkshires

(E, 13k, boss/employee)  The man leaves his place before Harry wakes up, which makes him sad since it was the best sex he's ever had. But when he goes to his new job on Monday, he realizes the man he slept with is the CEO.

୭ fire for a heart by brainwaves

(M, 12k, office party) Louis and Harry meet in a club. In the beginning, everything that could go wrong does go wrong.

୭ I'm All Yours, I Got No Control by Bearandleonardwrite / @erikabearikuh

(E, 10k, boss/employee) Harry and Louis hook up at a club. When Harry turns up to his new job the next day, he's more than a little surprised to learn that his new boss, Dr. Tomlinson, is Louis.

୭ Should Be, Meant To Be by thecheshirepussycat / @the-cheshire-pussy-cat

(E, 9k, boss/employee) Louis signs up for a Sugar Daddy dating website on a drunken dare.

୭ How It Begins (series) by @phdmama

(E, 8k, classroom parents) New town, new job, new school for his daughter. It's a chance to start again for Louis Tomlinson, a clean slate. Or is it?

—Rare Pairs—

୭ Cool Kids Never Have The Time by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(T, 6k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn auditions to join a band and makes a bad first impression on their bassist.

[daydream-cement]

Organs in the Wash Ch. 9

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

The dust settles.

i know this took me forever. so sorry about that, loves <3 thank you to @booitsrue for being my lil beta.

You had been dreading this moment. After the events in your apartment complex, the thought of returning to your home after being discharged from the hospital was a nightmare. How could you go back to that apartment after experiencing everything you had? 

The doctor was happy with your healing progress. The damage to your brain hadn’t been as severe as anticipated, only causing you minor issues with your coordination in which your doctor reassured you could recover with time and effort. You knew this would be possible through your own determination and, not to mention, with the support of Miranda. 

It was a rare occasion when Miranda wasn’t at your bedside. She always sat with her chair pulled close, her hands gripping your left hand while she either watched you sleep or chatted with you about all the changes happening at the department. Since you were taken to the hospital, Adrian had been put under investigation for ‘perverting the course of justice’ and ‘improperly interfering in a police investigation,’ at least, that’s what Miranda told you.There were murmurings of Robin taking over Adrian’s position and Miranda, herself, receiving a promotion for their diligence in your case, all of which was music to your ears. 

“Have you decided where you want to stay after you are discharged from the hospital?” Miranda’s sweet voice at your bedside drew your attention to her. The look on her face caused you to melt instantly, from her shy smile to how her eyes couldn’t meet yours from the nerves. 

 Cocking your head, you inquire deeper, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean- You are free to stay with me... if you want, of course.” Her thumb brushed over your knuckles, eyes focusing in on your hands. She was trying her best to come off in the most nonchalant manner, not wanting you to find her too overzealous. But now that the case was closed, Miranda was interested in putting a full effort into pursuing you romantically. 

The prospect of living with her again was incredibly tempting, but you were worried she may have been asking out of chivalry rather than her romantic feelings for you,  “Oh, well I wouldn’t want to be a burden, Mir. I can- I can go back to my apartment.”

Miranda’s eyes finally met yours, her brow now furrowed at your words, confused at the notion of you being a burden. Her words were spoken quickly, but filled with intention, “You are never a burden. I’ve actually grown to really like having your company in the apartment...” 

Tightening your grip on Miranda’s hand, you offer her a soft smile, “I would love to stay with you again, but I’ll need to get my things from my apartment.” 

There was no hiding the way Miranda’s face lit up at the thought of you coming to live with her again. She squeezed your hand in return, almost too tightly, raising your knuckles to her lips to press a firm kiss, “I can help you get your things. Just tell me what you need and I will get it for you.” The constable then stood, filled with an intense excitement to help collect your belongings so you could move in with her as soon as possible. 

You certainly weren’t opposed to the idea of moving in with her, but her degree of excitement was unexpected. Furrowing your brows, you looked up to her with a crooked smile, “Now?”

“Yes! I can get everything together so you won’t have to worry about it! Just text me the important things and I can get some friends to help with the rest on another day,” The constable gave your hand a final squeeze and moved away from your bedside to gather her things. You could tell from the way her head bobbed back and forth that she was deliriously excited about the prospect of you coming to live with her, “Then when you come, you can take your time to heal.” 

-----

The relentless buzzing of Miranda’s phone drew both of your attentions away from the tv screen. Like clockwork, it was time for the final of the two check-ins Miranda did with you every day. She usually didn’t need the reminder to distribute your antibiotics, check your pain levels, and examine the healing of your wounds. This was a task she assigned herself independent of your doctor. 

Miranda silenced the alarm and looked down at you expectantly. You had your head laying in her lap while she had been reclined back on the sofa. From the patient way she gazed down at you, you were well aware that she expected you to tell her how you were feeling, “I feel okay. No pain right now.” The statements were true, but you were more interested in getting back to the movie rather than taking more time away to talk about yourself. 

“Let’s have a look, hmm?” The constable wouldn’t be deterred, her hands reaching to cradle your neck and push at your shoulder to get a look at the two healing marks on the back of your skull. The hand on your neck slid up so her fingers rested on your cheek, gently manipulating your head so as to see all of the angles of your stitches. It had been a week into being at home with Miranda and the progression of your healing was looking wonderful. 

You tried to provide her with a bit of reassurance, not wanting her to fuss over you, “Really, Mir... I’m okay.” 

She hummed in response, obviously not quite believing you as you always told her you were okay. Once she was satisfied with checking on your healing head, she released your face and guided you head back to rest on her lap once more. Next she held out a hand, fingers flexing expectantly, “Arm, please.” 

This was your least favorite of the healing checks she did. There was no doubt that a scar would permanently grace your forearm, a constant reminder of your kidnapper and his intentions for you. Hesitantly, you raised your arm for her, just wanting this to be over with. 

Miranda was gentle in all that she did, left hand holding your wrist while the right slowly slid your long sleeve down your arm to reveal the scabbed over wound. You could still make out the letters, the meaning of them permanently etched into your mind. 

𐐔𐐨𐑉 𐐣𐐮𐑉𐐰𐑌𐐼𐐲, 𐑄𐐮𐑅 𐐮𐑆 𐑀𐐳𐐼𐐺𐐴.

Dear Miranda, this is goodbye.

As Miranda looked over the healing message, her right hand fell to your hair, stroking through your tresses as guilt washed over her. She felt terribly guilty each time she looked at your forearm, feeling like she was the cause of your injuries. You listen to her let out a long sigh, eyes running over the sentence over and over again.

Raising a hand to your forearm, you trace your fingers over ‘𐐣𐐮𐑉𐐰𐑌𐐼𐐲,’ eyes shifting from your wound back up to the woman who saved you. Your gaze was all adoration, in the weeks of living together before and after the incident, you were sure she was the only person you wanted to spend your life with, “He was wrong.”

“About what, bug?” Miranda slowly lowered your arm, but she maintained a tender hold on your wrist, thumb stroking at your pulse point. Her attention was fully on you, eyes searching your face for the answer to her question. 

“He was wrong about that day being our goodbye. I’m still here with you.” Your tone conveyed the most raw and genuine of emotions, needing her to understand how grateful you were to still be here with her. 

“It was too close...” The constable mumbled, her eyes welling with tears. You knew she was thinking back on how she believed she had failed you. Miranda was adamant that if she wouldn’t have left, if she wouldn’t have given Adrian the opportunity, then you would have never been placed in harm's way. 

“You saved me, Andy.” Narrowing your gaze, you tried your best to display your adamance that you would never hold her at fault for what happened. Pulling your wrist loose from her grip, your hand meets hers to intertwine your fingers and you use the newfound grip to lift the back of her hand to your lips, sealing your statement with a kiss. 

Miranda was quiet for a long moment, afraid to start speaking lest she begin to cry. Her fears became reality when she choked out her words and began to weep, “I failed you.” She twisted her face away from you, not wishing for you to see her so emotional, but the avoidance made your heart shatter. 

You squeezed her hand tighter, eyes locked on the side of her face where you could still see the tears falling. Desperately you tried to reassure her, “You didn’t fail me. So much happened during those two days, yet you found me in hours, Miranda. If it wasn’t for you, I would be dead.” The two of you have had this discussion before, but Miranda was struggling to forgive herself, regardless of your affirmations. 

Biting your lip, you watch her continue to cry, unresponsive to your words. You decide to then change tactics, making your tone lighter, wanting her to feel like you were teasing and flirting with her to lighten the mood, “It just gives me another reason to like you so much... as if I needed more.”

Miranda let out a breathy laugh in her efforts to make the tears subside, your words providing her with a mild form of comfort. It would take her time to truly come to terms with the mistakes made leading up to your kidnapping, regardless if they were in her control or not. Nonetheless, you would reassure her as many times as she needed to understand how deeply you cared for her and appreciated how she cared for you.

“Truly, Miranda... I find it hard to put into words how much I like you...” As you kept up the reassurance for the constable, you began to realize how it was affirming the true feelings you kept tucked away for her. It was more than a deep like, your feelings for Miranda, and now felt as good as time as ever to tell her how you truly felt, “I- I love you, Miranda.”

The pause on her behalf frightened you, but she was more shocked at the suddenness of your omission of true feelings. You watched how her face turned from a partial self-loathing, to confusion, to giddiness in a manner of seconds as she processed what you had told her. The grin on her face was bigger than you could have ever imagined. 

Her hands pulled away from your hand and hair, moving to the sides of your face as her face leaned in towards yours, hovering inches above yours. When she spoke she shook her head, almost in disbelief that you were exchanging these words, “I love you. I do... I love you.” 

The pure joy of hearing your feelings reciprocated, accompanied by Miranda’s demeanor made you giggle. At the sound of your laughter, Miranda began to laugh as well, joining you for a few seconds before abruptly silencing both of you by pressing her lips to yours. 

This kiss held so much more love and emotion than the one outside of your old apartment. 

This kiss meant forever. 

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC's Lucien Binding Knot Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

She told me that a person's life is too short. In the blink of an eye, it's five years, and then another blink, it's ten years.

That's how she and her husband lived their lives, bickering and muddling through, and they ended up spending their whole lifetime together.

Looking back, the bumps in the road and trivial matters along the way don't hold much significance compared to being able to harmoniously live together for a lifetime.

Translation under the cut~

[Notes from Lux: Here's the CN video link if anyone want to follow along his Voice Acting. VERY recommended to re-read S1 chapter 9 and his Chinese Wedding SP Bound By Love/A Love Not in Vain because this date specifically references these two stories. AND perhaps Sacred Mountain Date regarding his belief in God(s)]

-

[Part 1]

Lucien: Today is Saturday. Didn't we agree not to work?

Lucien places a bowl of freshly washed blueberries on the coffee table and casually feeds me a few. I sit on the sofa, engrossed in the documents on my laptop.

MC: Kiki has sorted the photography registration form; I need to quickly finish reviewing it so that I can contact them earlier.

Recently, our company launched a charity project called "Taking Family Portraits for One Hundred Elderly People." After the announcement was made, we received dozens of registration forms in just two days.

MC: By the way, Lucien, if any professors from Loveland University are interested in this project, you can invite them as well.

MC: We've rented the best photography studio, and the photographers are top-notch, so you can rest assured about the photo quality.

Lucien: With so many people applying, I think we should try to avoid giving slots to people we know, right?

MC: Don't worry. Even though we're promoting it as a hundred people externally, we've discussed it internally and will try to accommodate as many as possible.

MC: We're willing to help strangers, let alone the people we know.

Lucien: In that case... I do have an idea.

Lucien points to the peace knot hanging on my wall- a knot that Grandma Wen taught me to weave, and it still hangs on one side of Lucien's bookshelf.

MC: Are you talking about Grandma Wen?

Grandma Wen is an elderly person who lives alone. Lucien and I have a close relationship with her. We've learned how to weave knots from her and even borrowed wedding attire. So, we visit her whenever we have free time.

She is also very hospitable to us, always arranging snacks for us to enjoy. She also advises us young people not to focus only on work but to remember to take care of ourselves.

MC: Actually, I did consider inviting her at first, but Grandma Wen's husband has already passed away, and having her take a family portrait alone might be a bit…

Lucien: Are you worried that it might make her uncomfortable?

Seeing me nod, Lucien leans back on the sofa, tilts his head, and smiles slightly.

Lucien: [chuckles] I think she won't mind at all.

Lucien: How about we ask her? One never knows.

After a lengthy discussion, we decided to call Grandma Wen. I carefully choose my words and extend the invitation, but Grandma Wen laughs heartily and readily accepts.

We finalize the shooting schedule. Lucien and I will pick her up together when the time comes.

However, Grandma Wen suggests she'd like to bring her cat, Baby, along for the photoshoot.

-

[Part 2]

On the agreed-upon morning, we arrive punctually at Grandma Wen's doorstep. While Lucien parks the car, I take the initiative to go and knock on the door.

The black-and-white spotted little cat lies under the eaves, rolling around playfully and occasionally pawing at something in the air, looking quite content.

MC: Baby~ Come here kitty for a hug~

But the little kitty pays no attention to me, completely engrossed in rolling on the ground. It rolls several times and ends up a meter away from me.

Lucien: (gently calls the kitty) Baby, come here.

Just as Lucien approaches, Baby suddenly gets up, takes two steps, and runs to Lucien's feet. It raises its paw and paw at the cuff of Lucien's pants, meowing incessantly.

MC: That's quite a contrast in treatment!

MC: Although I've played with it plenty of times before, it still prefers you. That's unfair!

Lucien lowers his gaze and sighs at the cat.

Lucien: [chuckles] You see, I didn't do anything, but she's angry just because you like me more.

Lucien: If you could talk, I'm sure you'd also think this is even more unfair to me, right?

Lucien crouches down and strokes the cat's head, using his fingers to rub its cheek gently.

Lucien: Please remember to be a little more coquettish with her later. Otherwise, I'll be in a tough spot.

MC: ...Hmph, you're not in a tough spot at all!

Lucien can't resist laughing and takes out a sealed bag of cat treats from his pocket, feeding them to Baby.

Lucien: Baby is actually relatively easy to please. Just give it some treats a few more times, and it will be circling around you.

Grandma Wen: MC, you're here…

I turn around and see that Grandma Wen is already standing at the door.

MC: Grandma! You look so beautiful today!

Grandma Wen is wearing a short jacket with a standing collar and a diagonal button today. It's evident at a glance that the craftsmanship is exquisite.

The satin fabric is smooth and lustrous, while the embroidery is lifelike with intricate stitching.

Grandma Wen sheepishly waves her hand.

Grandma Wen: These are old clothes I haven't worn in seven or eight years. It's rare that I've taken them out.

MC: Old clothes? I can't tell. They look just like new…

MC: Is the embroidery on the hem here the Lotus Pond? Each lotus is transitioned with several colors... It's really beautiful!

MC: Did you embroider this yourself, Grandma?

Grandma Wen touches the hem, smoothing the embroidered threads of the lotus leaves.

Grandma Wen: My husband made this for me when he was still alive.

Grandma Wen: From pattern drafting to embroidery, he did every step himself, insisting that his craftsmanship was better than mine.

Grandma Wen: These embroideries used to be even more beautiful, but unfortunately, the thread colors have faded over time.

MC: I can't tell that the thread colors have faded. I think it looks incredibly beautiful.

MC: Your complexion looks great today. When it's time for the photo shoot, we'll have a hairstylist do your hair. We must create a hairstyle that compliments this dress perfectly.

Lucien walks over carrying a cat carrier and lets Grandma Wen check Baby's condition.

Lucien: I used some cat treats to coax it into the carrier, and it didn't make any fuss and was very well-behaved.

Grandma Wen: Baby~ Baby, today we're going out for a photoshoot. After we get in the car, you must be good and not cause any trouble for your brothers and sisters, okay?

Grandma Wen claps her hands toward the cat inside the carrier, and Baby starts to scratch the carrier, about to meow. But Lucien offers a cat treat, and it immediately quiets down.

I give Lucien a thumbs up - only he can do it.

Lucien: How about you sit in the back with Grandma Wen later? If Baby wants to come out, you can feed it some cat treats.

MC: Mm, no problem~

Grandma Wen: Is it time to leave? Let me grab a few things.

Grandma Wen goes back inside and returns with a Chángshān covered in a dustproof cover. I have a vague idea of who the owner of this robe might be.

Grandma Wen: I made this Chángshān for my husband when I was young. It was his favorite outfit. I'll bring it along for the photoshoot. So, it's as if he's also accompanying me.

Lucien takes a half step forward, probably thinking that the gown in the bag is not light and wanting to help Grandma Wen get it into the car. However, when he catches my gaze, he takes a step back.

Lucien: Let's get in the car, Grandma.

Lucien opens both car doors, assists Grandma Wen into the car, helps her fasten the seatbelt, and then checks that the cat carrier on my lap is secure before closing the car doors.

-

[Part 3]

After arriving at the photography studio, the makeup artist has to apply makeup and do the hair for Grandma Wen.

I'm worried that Grandma Wen might hesitate to communicate her needs with the makeup artist, so I am constantly accompanying her, talking to her, and helping her with her makeup.

Lucien is responsible for taking care of Baby, who starts running around as soon as they enter the photography studio.

Grandma Wen: When we first found Baby in the wild, it was only as big as the palm of a human hand. I made a nest for it with a towel, and it slept under the dining table.

Grandma Wen: In the blink of an eye, it has grown so big.

Grandma Wen: When it was little, it wasn't this mischievous. It used to lie in the corner every day obediently and didn't let anyone approach. As soon as someone got close, it would run away.

Grandma Wen: Now, it plays with birds, teases dogs, and does all sorts of daring things. There's nothing it's afraid to do.

Grandma Wen gently squeezes my hand and says.

Grandma Wen: You should go outside and take a look. It's not easy for Professor Lucien to keep an eye on Baby all by himself. There are machines everywhere here. Don't let that smelly cat cause any trouble for you.

I nod and walk out of the makeup room.

In the living room of the photography studio, there is a bright lounge area. Lucien is holding a cat teaser toy, playing with Baby as it pounces back and forth on the sofa.

MC: You even brought a cat teaser wand?

Lucien: Not just that, I also have a cat jingle bell ball and a laser pointer in the trunk.

Lucien: I consulted my colleagues who have pets, and they said that if you want your pets to behave well for photos, you need to let them play for a good hour beforehand.

Lucien: Once they get tired from playing, they can cooperate more.

I walk over and sit down on the sofa, gently petting Baby's head. It doesn't resist and tilts its head up, allowing me to scratch its chin.

Lucien finds a moment to rest and casually picks up a book from the bookshelf, leaning back on the sofa.

MC: (smiles) It seems like this method is working. It's already behaving quite well now.

Lucien: It's probably just temporarily tired from playing. After a short rest, it will be jumping around again.

Lucien: After all, it's the most mischievous kitten I've ever seen.

Lucien gently taps the top of the Baby's head, and the kitten raises its front paw, quickly grabbing his finger.

Lucien: It climbs trees, catches birds, and even fights with stray cats... When it's full of energy, there's no stopping it.

I recall not too long ago when Baby went missing again. When we found it, it was in the middle of a fight with a stray cat outside, and its face was scratched up.

We were afraid that Grandma Wen would worry if she saw its condition, so we didn't return it directly. Instead, we told her that we were taking it to the hospital for a check-up and would bring it back once it recovered.

MC: (smiles softly) Do you remember what you said the last time we took Baby to the hospital?

Lucien: Hm?

MC: You said that despite its many escapades, Grandma Wen never considered keeping it indoors and always let it go out to play.

Lucien: I remember, if it were up to me, I wouldn't let this little cat run wild everywhere.

I pick up the cat teaser toy and start playing with the little cat, swinging it on and off.

MC: As soon as we mentioned taking a family photo, Grandma Wen immediately thought of bringing the cat along.

MC: It's clear that in Grandma Wen's heart, it's her most important family member.

MC: That's how it is among family members. No matter how worried or concerned we are, we still want the other person to be happy and do what they want to do.

Lucien: ….Our Great Producer has something to say and found a good way to start the conversation.

Noticing that I had a hidden agenda, Lucien had already guessed what it was.

Lucien: Grandma Wen already told you, didn't she?

MC: Right before the makeup session, Grandma Wen pulled me aside in a corner to talk.

MC: She said that you've been to the Matchmaker's Temple alone several times before and also visited her along the way.

I sigh meaningfully.

MC: Professor Lucien, have you encountered a problem that materialism* can't solve?

-

[T/N: Materialism in this context is more of a philosophical belief that only physical matter exists and that everything can be explained through the physical world and natural laws.]

-

Lucien leans back leisurely on the sofa, wearing only a light smile.

Baby rolls over under his palm, purring contentedly.

Lucien: Gods don't solve problems. I'm a researcher, and I still have to uphold certain principles.

Lucien: But when it comes to matters of the heart, it's just too complicated... variables abound, and there's no optimal solution.

Lucien: So, I often wonder if a certain little fool occasionally worries about me or gets angry for me. Is it because I haven't done well enough?

He lifts the corner of his eyebrows, seeming not to be troubled by this matter, just candidly sharing his feelings.

The unbridled sunlight streams through the curtains, illuminating the tenderness in his eyes with exceptional clarity.

Lucien: Questions without answers are better left to metaphysics.

Lucien: Even if the problem doesn't get solved, you can still find some comfort in it to some extent.

As Lucien speaks, he no longer plays with Baby. The cat feels neglected and keeps nudging Lucien's palm with its head.

I stroke its fluffy head and realize that it's been a very long time since the first time I saw this cat with Lucien in the wheat field.

Some things probably don't have answers in either science or metaphysics; the experiences of life are what will eventually reveal the truth.

MC: Lucien, do you know what Grandma Wen just said to me?

Lucien: Tell me.

MC: She told me that a person's life is too short. In the blink of an eye, it's five years, and then another blink, it's ten years.

MC: That's how she and her husband lived their lives, bickering and muddling through, and they ended up spending their whole lifetime together.

MC: Looking back, the bumps in the road and trivial matters along the way don't hold much significance compared to being able to harmoniously live together for a lifetime.

Lucien straightens up, seeing that there's no one around, and then suddenly leans down to place a kiss on my forehead.

The warm sunshine reflects in his eyes as he looks at me. He smiles a little and casually picks up the kitty, holding it in his arms as if nothing happened.

Lucien: Grandma Wen is right.

-

[Part 4]

After the lighting technician adjusts the lighting, Lucien and I stand in the corner of the photography studio.

Grandma Wen sits on the mahogany bench, spreading her husband's Chángshān flat across her lap. The photographer holds Baby and places it on the Chángshān.

The naturally mischievous cat is being incredibly well-behaved at this moment. No matter how the photographer handles it, it's willing to cooperate and even knows how to look at the camera.

Photographer: Grandma, please reach out your hand and gently touch the cat's head—yes, that's right, just a natural touch will do.

Photographer: This cat is so well-behaved, cooperative and calm.

Grandma Wen: Good Baby, I'll make you some fish to eat when we get back tonight.

Photographer: Grandma, let's maintain this pose and take two more shots.

Lucien gazes at the scene before him, momentarily lost in thought.

Lucien: From the first time we entered her house, I noticed that there were no photos of her and her husband displayed in her home.

Lucien: Upon careful inquiry, I discovered that they had indeed never taken any photos together.

Lucien: ...Two people spending a lifetime together is something worth commemorating. They should have had a photo together.

After he says that, he turns his head slightly and whispers in my ear.

Lucien: Thanks to the producer's help, at least Grandma Wen has a family portrait now, regardless of the circumstances.

For a moment, I'm unsure of what to say.

He's truly humble for someone who has doubted his understanding of love.

—--------------------------------------------------------

After the shoot, Lucien and I accompanied Grandma Wen back the same way we came.

Grandma Wen: Stay for dinner. You two don't be so polite…

Grandma Wen: I feel bad that both of you have been busy all day. Having a meal together is no big deal, just a few extra pairs of chopsticks.

We don't want her to have to deal with cooking after a long day of photoshoots, so we politely decline.

Lucien: Grandma, it's still early. MC and I plan to visit the Matchmaker Temple, so we won't stay.

Lucien: You've had a long day today. Remember to rest well.

MC: Yes, Grandma. After the photos are developed, I'll bring them to you right away. We'll have the meal you promised then.

Grandma Wen didn't insist on keeping us any longer, but she promised that the next time we visit, we must stay for a meal. We quickly nodded in agreement.

—--------------------------------------------------------

On the way to the Matchmaker Temple, the sun gradually sets, casting a beautiful array of evening colors between the trees and stone steps. It's hard for anyone walking through this scenery not to feel relaxed.

MC: It's quite rare for this place to be this peaceful.

Lucien: Festivals have yet to happen recently, so there are very few tourists. The Matchmaker God can take a break too.

MC: With no incense burning at the Matchmaker Temple, does it mean that everyone hasn't been facing relationship difficulties? It seems like a good thing, doesn't it?

Lucien: (shushes and whispers) Shhh... with a troubling view like that, you might upset the Matchmaker God. Be careful not to displease him.

I can't help but laugh at his teasing, and I also find his words reasonable. I quickly pull Lucien to pay respects to the Matchmaker and offer incense.

I hope that the Matchmaker is understanding and doesn't take my words to heart.

After offering incense and making a donation, Lucien and I found a couple of chairs inside the temple and sat down. We plan to watch the sunset for a while and leave when the temple closes.

The faint scent of sandalwood here blends with the natural aroma of the forest, creating a tranquil and enduring atmosphere that instantly soothes the heart. I lean closer to Lucien and ask softly.

MC: Lucien, what wishes did you make when you came here alone before? Have any of them come true?

Lucien bends slightly, brushing away a cluster of dandelion seeds that accidentally caught onto his shirt cuff. He then leisurely curves his lips into a smile.

Lucien: I don't even remember the specific wishes I made anymore.

Lucien: They were probably just about small things, like planning to meet up but then having something come up at the research institute, causing me to break the appointment.

Lucien: Another example is when I promise to sleep well, but then accidentally stay up for a few nights and get caught by you.

Lucien: (laughs softly)....

Lucien: Now that I think about it, they were indeed all trivial matters, and you've always been very understanding.

Lucien lifts his gaze, meeting my eyes.

Lucien: Although we quickly forget these minor disagreements.

Lucien: But occasionally, I do pay attention to these little disagreements that fill our lives. After all, even the smallest things have their own meaning.

I can't help but let my lips curl up slowly, and Lucien lifts his chin, revealing a somewhat helpless expression.

Lucien: It's evident that the Great Producer is very pleased with my introspection.

MC: …..Pfft, not exactly 'very'.

MC: I'm just marveling at how Professor Lucien sets such astonishingly high standards for himself.

MC: It seems like I don't reflect on my actions much when I make you angry... But from today on, I'll try to change that.

Lucien: [chuckles] It's okay.

Lucien changes the topic, and a smile spreads in his eyes.

Lucien: Now that I think about it, these little bumps and trivial matters aren't really that important.

He takes a knot from his pocket and hands it to me. The way the knot is tied resembles the peace knot that Grandma Wen had taught me before, but the weaving method seems more intricate.

Lucien: This is a knot that Grandma Wen taught me to weave as a special thank you for us.

Lucien: She also said that the name of this knot is yí shì yíjiā (宜室宜家).

Lucien: Today, it seems like I have a clearer understanding of the meaning of this word.

-

[T/N: 宜室宜家 is a Chinese idiom that means "live harmoniously; make a harmonious and orderly home." It is often used as a congratulatory message on a wedding. The idiom comes from a line in the poem "Tao Yao" in the Book of Songs, which reads, "之子于归，宜其室家" (the son is returning home, where he should live harmoniously with his wife and make a harmonious and orderly home). And it fits with the date theme of living harmoniously together for a lifetime despite all the small bumps🥺.]

-

Suddenly, my heart feels soft, and I take a small step closer to Lucien's shoulder. I pick up my phone and open the front camera.

I put both of us in the frame.

The setting sun casts a gentle glow behind us, and the breeze is light, creating a tranquil and beautiful atmosphere.

MC: The sunset today looks beautiful. Let's take a photo together.

MC: 3, 2, 1–

My trailing voice fades away in the warm breath as Lucien lowers his head and kisses me.

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

[Bonus Call - "Family Portrait"]

Lucien: Hello, it's me. I have some good news to tell you.

MC: What is it?

Lucien: Didn't you put Grandma Wen's family portrait photo on the company's public social media account?

MC: Um... Grandma Wen said it was okay, so I posted it. What's the matter?

Lucien: A professor from the university recognized Grandma Wen's clothes and said he had seen the person in the photo before, right at the West Moon Street intersection.

Lucien: This professor was a photography enthusiast when he was younger, and at the time, he noticed Grandma Wen's well-dressed appearance and couldn't resist taking a photo.

Lucien: Later on, he always wanted to give the photo to Grandma Wen, but he went to West Moon Street a few times and never encountered them again.

MC: "Them?"

Lucien: Mm, that's the good news I wanted to share. The photo the professor took is a picture of Grandma Wen and her husband.

MC: That's quite a coincidence!

Lucien: There's an even greater coincidence.

Lucien: I just got my hands on this photo, and in it, Grandma Wen is holding a tiny kitten the size of her palm.

MC: Is it Baby?

Lucien: Judging by its patterns, it seems so.

Lucien: Although the photo is quite old, I've contacted a professional photo restoration expert, and if all goes well, it should be restored within about a week.

MC: So, we can bring this photo to Grandma Wen next weekend?

Lucien: Exactly. They're real family portraits, and I hope it can truly make up for her regrets.

MC: ...It's really amazing, it feels like there's something guiding us in all of this.

Lucien: Who knows, maybe it really is.

Lucien: Let's go together to get the photo restored later. I know you're eager to see it as soon as possible.

MC: Um—I'll finish up what I'm doing, and then I'll come find you right away!

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

[Lux's Short Rambles]

I didn't expect this date to be this good huhu. It's far better than last pet date where it feels like a plot that got way longer than it should 😂. It's also nice to see old NPCs getting mentioned again. The story of Grandma Wen with her husband is touching.

The theme of spending a lifetime together, despite how short life is, never fails got my heart clenched. And I love how this date highlights what a sensitive person Lucien is (in a good way, well, most of the time). He doesn't mind her getting angry at him because he knows that she does it because she cares about him. But he also genuinely fears that she might not be happy; so he goes to the Matchmaker's Temple alone and cares about these small conflicts, believing that they also have meaning :". But in the end, such trivial things and bumps on the road don't matter compared to being able to live their whole lives together, so rather than getting caught up in minor conflicts or trivial matters along the way it's better to priotize living together harmoniously for a lifetime.

He also noticed the smallest things, like how Grandma Wen and her husband never had their photo taken together since the very first time he and MC met Grandma Wen back in S1 Chapter 9. To quote MC, for someone who claimed he doesn't understand what love is, he's truly humble; perhaps back then, he already understands what love is in his heart by loving MC.

[magnoliasforyourmedic]

You could totally write a Band of Brothers-Masters of the Air AU where Easy Company is in the USAAF flying B-17s over Europe. Our Toccoa boys would be our “Original” crews of the 100th who flew over from the states in 1943 like we see in the Masters of the Air show.

Another thing to know is that if you weren't a pilot, you were a gunner. You might be a radio operator or a navigator or bombardier, but you were also a gunner during dog fights. I chose mostly based off of what I think fits them best with their personality but also somewhat with their roles in the company.

Here’s what I think some of the boys roles would be on a bomber crew (it’s kind long so see under the cut):

Eugene Roe would be a Flight Surgeon, without a doubt. Despite their title, Flight Surgeons don't typically fly becuase they can do a lot more good taking care of the wounded in the base hospital than they would be able to for a single crew of 10 men on an insanely dangerous mission (who could just as easily bleed out on the long flight home despite any medical attention they receive). The flight surgeons were never required to fly missions, and very few every did given the risk, but there were a handful that would so that they could get a better understanding of what the flyboys were going through in the air. Doc Roe would definitely be a Flight Surgeon who flies far more than he needs to.

Dick Winters would obviously be a pilot and I think he'd be a Squadron Commander who's promoted to Group Executive Officer. As the Air Exec he'd technically be third in command and he's in charge of organizing the bombing missions, briefing each mission, oversee group air training, navigation, bombing and to serve as command pilot leading bombing missions. He doesn't fly as often after he's promoted but will fly whenever the 100th leads which I think fits perfect with how we see Winters wanting to be in the battle with his men but can't always because of his new rank.

Lewis Nixon would probably be Group Intelligence Officer. As Group Intelligence Officer he was in charge of briefing flight crews before missions along with some of the other officers as well as in charge of interrogating the crews when they came back. I'm thinking he'd be a Marvin "Red" Bowman type if you know him from Masters of the Air, who was a much-loved member of the 100th BG known for “his sense of the dramatic” in that he would turn the morning debriefs into “real productions.”

Carwood Lipton would be a pilot. I think he’d be promoted to be the leader of one of the four squadrons of the 100th. He'd be telling Gene to stay back on a mission because they're flying in Coffin's Corner and don't want to lose their best Doc.

Buck Compton would be a pilot

Harry Welsh would also be a pilot or copilot

Frank Perconte would be a Ball Turret Gunner. Thank you, Perconte

Guarnere would probably be a Waist Gunner, but I can totally see him as a Bombardier. Also fits as a Top Turret Gunner/Flight Engineer but I really think he’d be a solid Bombardier. He reminds a lot of Bombardier James Douglass from MOTA in terms of personality

My first thought was that Bull Randleman would be a waist gunner because he definitely wouldn't fit in the spot for the tail gunner or ball turret gunner, but I actually think he might make a real good copilot with his leadership skills. Another thing that makes this a good fit is that when a Group Air Exec (think Major Kidd) flies on mission, they go in the place of the copilot in the lead crew when their BG is leading formation. The copilot then typically becomes a gunner for the mission or may assume the role of formation officer overseeing all of the aircraft behind them when they’re leading formation.

George Luz would be Radio Operator, duh

I'm honestly not quite sure where I think Liebgott would be. I can see him as a navigator or bombardier, or even a copilot. I’m leaning navigator, but I’d love to hear your thoughts

I feel like Skip and Muck could be a waist gunner duo on the same crew with Malarkey as the tail gunner on that same crew.

When replacements are brought in on masters of the air, we see brand new entire crews aircraft and all being brought in. I imagine this being the case for the replacements in this AU but I think Babe Heffron would fill in a spot on one of the “original” crews to mirror how close he becomes with the Toccoa men, or the “original” crews.

Ron Spiers would be a pilot who got transferred in from a different bomb group to replace Dike as a squadron leader maybe? There would definitely be rumors around him, if you’ve read Harry Crosby’s book, A Wing and a Prayer, you may recall the story of Leafy Hill. Leafy Hill was a navigator everyone despised and no one wanted to fly with due to his incompetence and insanity, but was set to be promoted up to Group Navigator. A crew decided to take things into their own hands and came up with a plan to ring the bailout bell when they got hit with the smallest amount of flak but make sure only Leafy would bail out over enemy territory. Im also think of Buck’s “we’re going to sit here and take it” line from Part 3, total Spiers vibes.

[weirdestcornelius]

What if cuddles is getting more visibly uglier art style lies on purpose? Kit trying to make him ugly so people don't like him anymore, he was too cartoonishly charming before

I thought that was obvious, lmao

Kc has always had the good = cute and evil = ugly mentality. Back in the early days of the preboot, DOOM was the one who was going to be the big bad of the story. And he's visibly "ugly", sweaty, and scrunched up. When Cuddles was still just a very fucked up doctor, he was still Transmasc and gay (I think?) and visibly fluffy and cute.

Since Cuddles became the bad guy of the story he's been made as physically unappealing as possible throughout the years, even though it goes completely against the original "wolf in sheep's clothing" character he was supposed to have. He was supposed to look cute and appealing to show how psych wards and hospital companies seem like they have the patient's best interests at heart.

But yeah, the ugly = evil is a very toxic mentality and honestly dwells in ableism, racism, and maybe more. It's not the only toxic mentality Kc is putting in her work either, but I've already talked about the whole black and white thinking kit promotes.

[dilettantefeminist]

I’m considering doing a short “inspired by” classic holiday rom com AU for winter (2-3 chapters prob-set in orig movie time period) but I would need to write ahead, so I’m asking now…

All descriptions are from “the internet”

Christmas in Connecticut (1945): “While recovering in a hospital, war hero Jefferson Jones (Dennis Morgan) grows familiar with the "Diary of a Housewife" column written by Elizabeth Lane (Barbara Stanwyck). Jeff's nurse arranges with Elizabeth's publisher, Alexander Yardley (Sydney Greenstreet), for Jeff to spend the holiday at Elizabeth's bucolic Connecticut farm with her husband and child. But the column is a sham, so Yardley hastens to arrange a publicity ploy by setting up single, nondomestic Elizabeth on a country farm.”

Starring young Galadriel in the Stanwyck role/Celeborn as the war hero and ??? In the role of the editor (tell me who you recommend)

______

The Shop Around the Corner (1940): “Alfred Kralik (James Stewart) and Klara Novak (Margaret Sullavan) are employees at Matuschek and Company, a music store in Budapest. Klara and Alfred are constantly at odds with each other, butting heads and disagreeing on almost everything. Both are enamored of their respective pen pals, who serve as welcome distractions in their lives. Little do they know, they are each the other's pen pal and, despite outward differences, have unwittingly fallen in love through their letters.”

Starring: Elrond/Celebrian with Imladris crew as their coworkers.

____________

The Apartment (1960): “Insurance worker C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) lends his Upper West Side apartment to company bosses to use for extramarital affairs. When his manager Mr. Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray) begins using Baxter's apartment in exchange for promoting him, Baxter is disappointed to learn that Sheldrake's mistress is Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine), the elevator girl at work whom Baxter is interested in himself. Soon Baxter must decide between the girl he loves and the advancement of his career.”

Starring: (Young) Elrond in the Jack Lemmon role, Gil-Galad as his boss, and Celebrian as Miss Kubelik.

———-

Note/bonus ideas: I think that It’s a Wonderful Life set in-universe starring Elrond would be AMAZING and I adore that movie (and will lecture you if you tell me it is cheesy because have you watched it as an adult??? It is about the death of dreams and what it means to build a small but meaningful life!)). I am not the best person to write it though because I would not do implications of alt future w/o Elrond justice. Likewise I would LOVE to read something inspired by The Thin Man (Éowyn and Faramir solve crimes and drink cocktails perhaps???) but I am not a mystery writer!

Please feel free to go forth and write any and all of these (and tag me!) if any of this gave you inspiration.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for abandoning my assistant at our new job?

I (22F) am a grocery store department manager and my assistant (26F) is my best friend. We previously worked at nice, low-volume, good work culture type store for a year and a half together while she was still a clerk. The notoriously horrible and constantly-falling-apart store down the street suddenly had two openings for our department for manager and assistant manager. She was definitely overqualified to become an assistant and I had good reports as the manager at this location, and thought we could work some magic on that place and really shape it up. So we made a plan, applied for the transfer and we were accepted. Once we started working there the department started performing amazingly and the people within the department were very happy with us as the new management crew.

Two issues - number 1 there is a store assistant manager who is racist, homophobic, and sexually harasses employees (she has 15+ HR complaints against her and it’s beyond me why corporate doesn’t fire her). She has targeted my assistant and within her first 5 days of working there, she wanted to call for a replacement, and called her lazy. I knew about this person before transferring but my assistant didn’t. I warned her beforehand and encouraged her to use the corporate HR hotline to report any and all behavior. (I have been a victim of this lady too, she asks me invasive sexual questions…)

Number 2 - I am now being worked 7 days a week, 10-12 hour days, and various start times anywhere between midnight and 1 pm. I’ll be off at 4 pm from a day shift, have to go back in at midnight, work midnight to noon, and then cover the evening call out by going in for another 2 hours from 4pm-6pm. Because I’m the manager, I can be worked like a dog but other people are not allowed to even stay an hour of overtime per week. My sleep deprivation has led me to faint, be hospitalized, miss doctors appointments, etc. All around awful. My store managers recognize that I’m suffering but due to corporate standards for scheduling, there is no escaping this, unless I want to make my poor assistant go through what I’m going through, which I refuse to allow another person to experience this.

I can’t take it anymore. I finally broke when I showed up to a scheduled overnight shift 2.5 hrs late due to pure exhaustion, and started having hallucinations on shift. Corporate surprised us at 8 am that day and gave my department a bad review, and I broke down in the middle of the sales floor in front of corporate, customers, and my store managers screaming “FUCK THIS I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS ANYMORE.”

I was surprised that I wasn’t fired but store management was surprised that I didn’t walk out. I didn’t because I have rent to pay. But the incident finally made me realize that this store is hurting my health and I’ve decided to send applications out to other jobs. Stepping down within the company or transferring back to the old store is not an option because department head is not open and even if I stepped down, they’d still work me like a department manager because they know what work I’m capable of. I want something new, a fresh clean slate.

However my assistant very badly needed this pay raise and guaranteed full time contract. She wouldn’t leave. She has an upcoming wedding and needs to put food on the table for her child. She is my best friend outside of work and we’re very close. I would feel terrible abandoning her in an already shitty work situation that I dragged her into - it was my idea and my reference for her promotion. I made promises to take care of a certain portion of duties if she did another portion. If I left, it would be ALL on her, job of both assistant and manager either as an assistant or if she’s offered manager. Either way, that would be a worse schedule than what I’m going through right now. And she would have to deal with that terrible store assistant alone. Anyways, I’d be scared to lose her friendship if I left. But I can’t take it anymore. She recognizes that too, however, she’s sympathetic to the literal medical faults my schedule is causing.

I feel like it’s my fault that she got harassed in the first place, and I feel like it’s my fault that she’s now unhappy with her job. I don’t want to lose my best friend.

WIBTA for leaving my job?

What are these acronyms?

[seventeenplug]

Scandal, Scandal (Hoshi X AFAB reader)

Pairing: Hoshi X AFAB reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, friends and maybe something more

Warning: Mention of Moonbin(not his name since i dont want to remind anyone), mencion of seungkwan not participating in the promotions. Mentions of fainting due to fatigue and malnutrition, curse words (i think once?) Mention of ZB1 as a joke.

Summary: You're one of seventeen's manager, and have worked with them through thick and thin for many years, and for the first time, you experience a scandal that almost destroys everything.

Word Count: 2,3K words.

Teaser :

“This is simply not right, you cannot do this to him!”

Your voice bounced through the walls as your tone continuously raised and the fight heated between you and your superior.

“Y/N, it will ruin their work as a group” She tried to get her point across.

“It’s HIS personal life!” You countered back.

The nights were getting warmer as spring finally touched the cold roads of Seoul and with it, comeback season began and it was no exception to the group you managed, Seventeen as they worked hard and prepared to showcase their new mini album “FML” to the public.

The only problem was that Hoshi, one of your closest friends kept overworking himself, and to make the issue harder, Seungkwan had just lost his best friend, the whole group suffering alongside him.

The tired boy begged you to stay out of promotions, and you did your best to reason with the company who finally allowed it after a few days of your constant nagging and threats.

One issue was down, and handled. You checked with Seungkwan every single day while still allowing him to still have time for himself.

Hoshi was a different case, it was way harder to convince that he could relax and his work wouldn’t be lost.

So that’s where you came in, once more as one of the managers of Seventeen, watching as Hoshi trained at the late hours of night, sweat dripping down his face but he continued to push past his limits, until there was nothing else to push and he fell to the floor.

It wasn’t easy to hide that a member of a big kpop group had been taken to the hospital after losing consciousness, but somehow you had managed to do it.

The doctor said that it wasn’t anything too bad, simple malnutrition and overworking himself, you sighed as your eyes look over his body, eyes shut as he peacefully slept.

By his side, you carefully watch as his finger twitches, noting his gain of counscious, you bow to the doctor before rushing to his side but before you can reach out to grab his hand, a woman does so.

“Soonyoung! You had me so worried!” the woman cried, the boys eyes opened, eyebrows furrowing as he looked around, taking a quick glance at you as you stood still and finally looking at the woman who had interwined their fingers.

“Soo Jin?” he mumbled, you couldn’t hide your surprise as you finally realized the woman’s identity, and just how dangerous it was for them both to act this way out in a public space.

“I was so worried, I- i raced over to see you, if you’re okay” she continued with her concerns, eyes filled with worry as she reached a hand to touch his face.

“Don’t do this here. We’re in public, miss” you said, your hand holding onto her wrist before she could come in contact with his face.

“And who are you to meddle!?” she screamed in your face, you eyes widened, the whisperes got louder as you looked around to watch as many of the patients turned their focus to the three of you.

“Cover your face” you rush to Hoshi, pulling out a mask from your bag and placing it on his face with a hat covering his head.

“You’re causing a scene. Please leave” you stood in front of the woman, eyes glaring at hers that shot daggers.

“That’s Blaze’s Choi Soo Jin” you heard the people whisper. It seemed like that finally caught her attention, as she too was a name on the rise and having a scandal now would be at the worst timing possible.

The woman looked around, her eyes still filled with anger, but nonetheless she grabbed her things and stomped her way out leaving you and Hoshi to deal with the consequences.

“God, I can’t believe she came…” Hoshi sighed, hand brushing his face as he tried to avoid people’s wondering eyes.

“I’ll go fill the paperwork so that you can at least get a room”

“Don’t bother. Let’s just leave. I’m fine” he grumbled, hands behind him to lift him into a sitting position.

And that would’ve been the end of the trouble, had someone not ripped the mask out of his face, exposing his identity to the few cameras that were recording.

“It’s seventeen’s hoshi!”

Save to say that there was nothing that could’ve helped you now as you removed your own jacket and put it over Soonyoung’s head, guiding him outside and into the car as people started closing in on the two of you, asking numerous of questions.

Once inside, the car ride was quiet. You’d rather not talk to him about the presence of his ex girlfriend or how she had found that he had been taken to the hospital.

You’d also rather not think of what would be of you if the news reached your superior…which by now, you were sure had happened because your phone kept buzzing.

“I’m sorry for causing trouble” you heard his soft voice in the back.

“It’s fine. You should rest while i drive” you ignored it all and kept your focus on one thing only, the road.

“Y/N… It’s not like that. You know that I- she and I, we-”

“Hoshi, you have nothing to explain to me. I’m your manager, not the police. I don’t care who you date or don’t” you lightly chuckle trying to lift the mood.

“Still… It didn’t last, not even half a year” he watched your reaction carefully, but you gave nothing more than a nod and he shook his head sighing into his hands.

“We’re here” you exit the car without another word, moving to the other side to open the back of the van so that Hoshi could exit, his eyes are on you the whole time but as you refuse to meet his eyes he exhales frustrated.

“Could you at least look at me?” he questions you, raising his voice.

Your eyes meet his, you tried your best to stay neutral, watching him the same way he watched you.

“Did you want me to say something?” you asked him raising a single eyebrow.

“You seriously going to continue to act this way?” he wondered, mouth open slightly in shock, scoffing at you and making his way into the dorms.

“You can go now. I see where we stand” he dismissively said waving a hand, not once turning back to look at you, you gulp down your thoughts, turning back to the car and driving away finally answering your phone, already ready to be screamed at. And you weren’t wrong because your superior immediately ordered you to go to the company and see him and the company president.

“Y/N, finally! The president is furious! You should hurry and head in” one of the new managers rushed to your side as you walked through the big doors.

You inhaled sharply, hands on the door handle before finally swinging it open and making your way inside as the superior stood behind his desk, back to you as he stared at the busy night life.

“Sir…” your voice meekly said, it was enough for him to listen, turning to look at you with his hands behind his back.

“Do you realize… what is going on right now as we speak, Ms.Y/N?” you asked, his teeth grinding on each other as he barely opened his mouth and turned to the screen at the corner of the room where gossip channels all plastered Hoshi’s face and Soo Jin’s as a possible couple and Dispatch releasing photos from the hospital including a love scandal.

“You know what’s funnier? Mr.Soonyoung is dating not one, but I guess two people” he laughed humorously, as he stared at you, who looked at him weirdly.

“You’re in it. You’re the other woman who he supposedly cheated on Ms.Choi with” he explains throwing the tv remote onto the sofa.

“Sir, you have to know that those are just groundless rumors, I would never-”

“I know, But they do not! What am I supposed to say to a rumor like this?!”

“I will take care of it, sir. I will not let this harm the company or the groups” you promised, hands behind your back respectfully.

“For now, I will release a statement that the two of you are nothing more than employer and employee. And he and Ms.Choi are just close Hoobae and Sunbae. You may go now. And I hope to not see another scandal like this again. It may cost your job the next time” he warns sternly. You nod, bowing thankful before rushing out the office.

“How did it go? Is he calmer now?” The junior manager asked, worried to which you nod, sighing in relief.

“He’ll release a statement and all will be good” you explained to which he nods understanding.

“Y/N! You’re in so much trouble!” Your superior’s voice boomed through the walls as he made his way to you.

“Sir, I can explain!” You tried, but he quickly shuts you up by grabbing your wrist and moving you to a more private part of the building.

“You had the nerve to take him to the hospital by yourself and let a woman interact with him! Grab him! What were you thinking?!” he yelled at you.

You kept your silence, eyes staring at the ground as he continued to yell at you over your wrongdoings. You had no right to argue back when it was in fact true.

“You shouldn’t have let him date! Look at what happened!”

“He’s also a person, sir” You argued back.

“Yes well, that person will not participate in the group’s activities for the album release!” he jabs. A gasp of shock leaves your mouth as your stare wide eyed at the man in front of you.

“This is simply not right, you cannot do this to him!”

Your voice bounced through the walls as your tone continuously raised and the fight heated between you and your superior.

“Y/N, it will ruin their work as a group” She tried to get her point across.

“It’s HIS personal life!” You countered back.

“He dated on his personal time! It never once interfered with his schedules or with the team. You cannot just decide that he won’t participate in the group activities over this! He’s been practicing! Day and Night for this comeback!” you continue.

“They’ve been broken up for months now, if anything it’s her fault, not his. Please sir, you cannot do this” you almost beg him.

“Fine, he can do the promotions, but Miss Y/N, you’re fired”.

You’re not sure if you heard that correctly or if the sight of all of the Seventeen members behind your superior just dragged you to another dimension, but you stay in your place as you stare at their shocked expressions, your superior walking away from your frozen place.

“Y/N… are you okay?” Joshua is the first one to approach you. You barely nod, still frozen in place as you replay the whole conversation.

“I’ll try and talk to Mr.Kim, he cannot just fire our manager” You hear Seungcheol say, a few of the members leaving with him in search for said man.

“Why would you fight in my stance? Gosh, you’re such an idiot sometimes. Come on”  You hear Soon Young’s voice say before you see him, draping your jacket over you and taking you to a bench nearby so that you could sit.

“You okay?” Dokyeom asks worriedly, looking over at you.

“I’m… ok. Why are you all here? You have practice early tomorrow” you turn to look at the two boys who had accompanied you to the bench.

“Who cares about the schedule?! Our manager just got fired for protecting one of us” Hoshi argued angrily, his eyes glared in the direction the senior manager had left.

“Just forget it. It’s fine as long as you can be in the promotions” you shrug standing up.

“Where are you going?” Hoshi hurriedly asks as he grabs onto your hand.

“Home. It’s late. You should all go home as well” you told him, gently removing his hand from yours, but his eyes never left yours.

“Dokyeom-ah! Come here for a second” Jeonghan’s call for DK shakes the 2 of you out of the transe you were in and the member excuses himself leaving the two of you alone.

“Hoshi-”

“We’re alone, please just call me that” he grumbles, reaching to grab your hands once again.

“Soonyoung” - he smiles.

“It’s fine, really. I can just get another job, maybe I can become the manager of ZB1” you joke, knowing they were Hoshi’s archnemesis to your heart.

“You like those kids way too much,” he continued to grumble.

“I’m not participating if you’re not there to cheer us on” he stated, eyes locked with yours.

“Don’t be stupid”

“Y/N, You’re the reason why all of us are always on schedule. If you’re not there, we won’t do shit” he joked.

“Just let us solve this one issue, for all the ones you solved for us” he finishes with a smile.

You contemplate for a while, looking around as a few members come back in search of you two and finally you give up, nodding which does cheer him up.

“Dino! Initiate mission, get Y/N back into her job” The funny boy exclaims, the others cheering.

(Possible pt.2? Let me know if you'd be interested!)

byeee!

[teaberrii]

Chapter Twenty-Four: Right Around the Corner

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

When Childe walks in through the front door of this parent’s place, he knows something is wrong. The place is nearly empty with only a couple of boxes—big and small—lying around the living room. The floor is also dirty, which Childe guesses are from the remnants of packing. He knows his mother. She cannot stand a dirty floor. So, where is—

“You came.”

Childe looks up and sees his father carrying a small box and slowly coming down the stairs.

“Of course,” Childe says. “Did you expect me not to come when you said you were moving?”

“Moved,” his father clarifies. Childe is about to take the box from him but his father dodges his attempt and puts it on the kitchen counter. “...I’m just back to take care of some last-minute things. Your mother is already in Snezhnaya.”

“I didn’t think you’d be in such a hurry to leave.”

His father turns to him. “We had no choice.”

"Do you hate Sumeru that much?

“Is that what you think?”

“If it’s not, then just tell me,” Childe says, the last of his patience leaving him. “You and Mom have been ignoring my calls… my texts.” He sighs. “I have no idea what’s been happening.”

His father inhales sharply. “Your mother had to leave... for the sake of her health.”

“...Her health? Wasn’t it because you got a promotion?”

His father leans against the kitchen counter and looks his son in the eyes. “Your mother’s sick.”

Childe’s gaze hardens. This is a bombshell he obviously isn’t expecting. Sick? With what? For how long? And… how? She sounded healthy on the phone. Every time he saw her, she also looked well. How can—

“...It started with her saying she was having difficulty seeing. She went to a doctor and they didn’t find anything wrong. But then it started to escalate.”

For a brief moment, the rest of his father’s words fall on deaf ears as it sounds like something out of a horror movie. But what Childe can’t believe is that his parents kept this from him.

“...It's getting harder for her to move,” his father says. “One of the doctors recommended someone in Snezhnaya who specializes in these kinds of diseases. She’s staying at a hospital right now.”

“It’s… curable, right? She will get better… right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” his father answers quietly. “There’s no known cure, but people have recovered.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?" Childe demands. "Because you didn’t want me to worry?”

“What could you have done, Childe?”

The question throws him off guard. Yet, it’s also true. What could he have done if he’d known?

His father sighs. “...Even I didn’t know what to do.”

“...Is that why she asked me to move back?”

“I hope you know we want what’s best for you,” his father says. “Isn’t that the case with every parent? Your mother knows you’re talented. She knows you’ll get better opportunities at Snezhnaya, and… you would be with her.”

“That still doesn’t address the core of the problem. Mom is sick. That’s a separate problem from the fact that even after all these years, you still don’t accept what I do for a living.”

“Maybe we’re too old-fashioned. It’s true we don’t know how the entertainment industry works. But everything is still dependent on numbers, is it not? A show or a film does well because this many people streamed it? Viewed it? Whatever the correct term is.”

“...Yes, that’s true.”

“So, it really doesn’t matter if the content is good. It just depends on the numbers.”

Perhaps Childe underestimated how much his father knew about his industry.

His father walks up to him. “I’m not in the mood to have this conversation with you right now. I’m leaving for Snezhnaya the day after tomorrow. It… would be nice if you could visit your mother. Not for my sake but hers."

As Childe hears his father walk back upstairs, he looks around the empty living room. The house he grew up in that was once full of life—the good and the bad–was now… dead.

That evening, when Childe returns to his apartment, he’s on the phone with Lumine.

After telling her what happened after he left his parent’s place, Lumine says, “...I’m really sorry this is happening to your mother.”

“Hey.” Lumine looks up as if Childe is right in front of her. “Don’t look so sad.”

"How can I not?" she huffs. Then, her shoulders fell slightly. "I just… I also can't believe they kept this a secret from you."

Childe sighs. “It’s just such a coincidence I found out about this now.”

“A coincidence?”

That’s when he tells you about his conversation with you about the curse. All of the secrets that the curse wants them to find out.

“...Does this mean your curse will start changing?” Lumine asks.

Childe looks at the clock. “It already has. I’m already late.”

Lumine smiles. “That’s progress… I think.”

“Well, I’m getting more time talking to you, so… yes. It is progress.”

“I… I wish I could be there for you right now.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Childe smiles. “I’m thinking of visiting her next week. What my father said to me tonight… I might’ve underestimated how much they really know.” He sighs. “Maybe it’s time we can have an open conversation about it without letting our feelings get in the way this time. It just… sucks that it took something like this to get us here. But… maybe I should consider myself lucky.”

Lumine chuckles softly. “You know… I was kinda thinking the same thing.”

There are too many stories where people leave things unsaid or problems unsolved and then regret not saying anything when the person was still around.

“Your mother will get through this,” Lumine says. “I know she will.”

“...Thanks, Lumine.” Then, in a slightly lighter tone, he says, “I know she will, too. She has to meet you formally after all.”

“...Formally?”

“You’re my girlfriend. A formal introduction is necessary, don’t you think?”

She feels her face grow warm. “How long will you be gone?”

“...I don’t know.” He smiles slightly. “Hey, you used to say that you would never miss me if I wasn’t around. What changed, huh?"

“That… that was just a joke!”

“I’ll miss you, too, Lumine.”

Her shoulders fall. “It’s just… so sudden.” She flops on her bed. “I really hope things go well, though. You’d better keep me updated!”

Childe chuckles. “Of course.” Then, jokingly, “I’ll send you my breakfast pictures every day.”

“Of what? Your buttered toast and black coffee?”

"Hey, I'll have you know I've been upping my cooking skills."

“You? Cook?”

Childe almost feels offended. “My cooking isn’t that bad!”

Is it?

“Well… you did make us that crisp, black… thing last year. It was, uh, very unique.”

“I’m a changed person, Lulu. I’ll have you know that I’m constantly improving myself.”

“Riiight… But I don’t think you can beat Mr. Neighbour.”

Childe’s jaw almost drops. “You don’t think I can beat Alhaitham?”

“Sis showed me some of the stuff he makes, and it looks amazing!”

Childe frowns. “Just wait and see. He’ll have nothing on me.”

Lumine laughs. “Are you jealous?”

“...No.”

“Whatever you say… Kittyman.”

Childe is about to retort when…

Poof!

Then, all Lumine hears is a long, annoyed meow that almost makes her laugh.

◆◆◆

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Before Childe got to work the next morning, he'd already told his father he'll be visiting Snezhnaya next week. Now Childe relays the same message to his manager but adds that it's because of his mother's unexpected illness.

“But, I don’t want to stop working,” Childe says. “So, I want to ask if I can work remotely.”

“You know, Childe, you work very hard. You’ve never taken more than a day off since you started working here.”

Childe blinks once. Twice. Is that… bad?

“You aren’t indirectly telling me to take a break because I’m not needed or something, right?”

“Not needed?” His manager almost laughs. “Where in the world did you get that idea from?”

Childe awkwardly scratches his head. "Well, isn't that usually the case? Managers tell people that it's okay not to come back or it's okay to take long breaks because that person isn't really… needed."

“You’re watching too many dramas,” his manager says, standing. “I meant that you shouldn’t have to worry about work while visiting your mother. That’s a lot of stress.”

“...But I can’t just put everything down.”

“You're one of the most hardworking ones on the team, Childe. You’re also talented.”

“Where is this going?”

His manager chuckles. "This is going off on a tangent, but I'm just wondering why you aren't willing to expand your horizons a little bit. You've been doing so many commercial scripts you can probably write one in your sleep. Why not try something more difficult?"

It was late evening, and Childe thought he was the last one at the company. That was until he bumped into you in the lounge.

“You’re still here?” you asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. What are you still doing here?”

“Well… I'll let you in on a little secret.” Then, you smiled. “I just got news from the production team that Love in the Spotlight was chosen to get the biggest budget of the year. They also told me that the leadership team loved the script!”

The rest of your excitement fell on deaf ears. Childe kept his usual smile on the outside, but a storm was brewing on the inside. So, this was it, huh? You still got chosen despite his hard work. Little did you know, Childe also submitted a screenplay to the production and leadership team. He'd worked on it outside of work as it wasn't part of his usual responsibilities. But he'd wanted to give screenwriting another shot.

The feeling of losing to you was still fresh in his mind. You had come in second. He came in third. He was happy for you, but he wasn't. Regardless, he strived to get better at the craft. The two of you were close friends. Perhaps that was why he compared himself to you. That aside, it didn't help you have a supportive parent, and  his parents gave him hell for pursuing creativity as a career.

After years of honing his craft, he still lost... to you. 

“...I’m happy for you,” he finally said. Then, he put a hand in his pocket. “To celebrate, I’ll grab you a coffee tomorrow morning.”

“Well, it’s a little early to celebrate."

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t want to celebrate just because I got a big budget.” Your smile widened. “I’m crossing my fingers that this does so well that it gets nominated for awards."

So, you were aiming for something bigger. Of course, you would. You'd already overcome the first hurdle. Then, there was him. Still stuck at the starting line.

“I… have my reasons,” Childe finally says. “I’m comfortable writing commercial scripts. It’s something I’m familiar with.”

“Well, you’re a good teacher, that’s for sure. The interns we had this year said that you were the best mentor.”

Childe smiles. “See?”

"It's just a shame if you ask me. But, I can't force you to do something you don't want to do. If you ever change your mind, let me know. Oh, and you can work remotely. But don't hesitate to let me know if things get too much."

“You’re the best.”

His manager gives him a deadpan look with a little smile. “I try.”

After Childe's meeting with his manager, it's just about lunchtime. He heads back to his desk, grabs his wallet from his bag, and heads to the restaurant to meet you and Tighnari for lunch.

When Childe arrives, you and Tighnari are already sitting at the table. Childe walks over just as you lean over and gasp at whatever is on Tighnari's screen.

“Oh, you do know how to pick ‘em, Nari,” you say with a small smile.

“Who are we talking about?” Childe asks, even though he already has a good idea. He takes an empty seat.

“Nari’s mystery boyfriend. Well, he’s not so mysterious anymore.”

That’s when Tighnari shows Childe a photo of him and a man who looks around Tighnari’s age with tan skin and medium-length gray hair.

“Why does he remind me of a mini Alhaitham?” Childe asks.

You laugh. “What?” You take another look at the man in the photo. “Oh, I can kinda see it.”

“Let me guess…" Childe moves into a thinking pose. "This guy’s quiet, mysterious, and kind of intimidating.”

You and Tighnari look at each other. “That… actually sounds about right,” he says. “But he’s actually really nice.”

“What’s his name?”

Tighnari smiles. “Cyno.”

“I… guess this means we have the same taste in guys, Nari,” you say.

Tighnari chuckles. “I guess so.”

After Childe orders his food, the three of you briefly chat about work before Childe drops the news he’ll be leaving Sumeru for a while. You and Tighnari are in shock when he tells you about his mother.

“That’s… so sudden,” Tighnari finally says. “I’m so sorry, Childe.”

“Yeah… I’ve been hearing that a lot. Don’t get me wrong. I do appreciate it. It’s just… after hearing it again and again, it gets a little much.”

“If there’s anything we can do,” you say, “just let us know.”

Childe smiles. “Just don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”

“...Does Lumine know?”

Childe nods. “She was the first to know.”

“Lumine?” Tighnari looks at you. “As in your sister, Lumine?”

“That’s right,” Childe says. “I’m dating her sister.”

Tighnari’s eyes widen. “Oh, wow. I… Wow. When did this happen?"

"I'll tell you the full story another time."

Once the food arrives, the conversation takes a different turn, eventually leading you to reveal that you’re going to have dinner with Alhaitham and his mom this week.

“Ooh, it’s getting serious,” Childe says.

“Any advice?” you ask.

“If it’s you, you’ll be fine."

Tighnari nods. “Agreed. My parents loved you the first time they met you, remember?”

You laugh. “Oh, I remember!”

"I was getting jealous that they were giving you all the food," Childe says.

A short laugh later, Tighnari says, "I know you're going to a restaurant, but maybe you can impress her with your cooking."

"Uh, maybe if you want her to get food poisoning."

"Rude!" you say, half-jokingly. But you have to agree with Childe. "Hey, I've been getting lessons, though. Haitham’s been teaching me.”

“I heard he’s a good cook."

“Did you hear from Lumine?”

Childe nods. “I told her I can compete with him.”

“Ooh, does this mean we’re getting a cook-off in the future?” Tighnari asks.

You smile. “Nari and Cyno can be the judges. Gets rid of any bias, I think.”

“I, uh, I don’t know about that,” Tighnari says. “Even if it’s temporary, Alhaitham is still the CEO of our company… I wouldn’t want to say anything that might be taken the wrong way.”

"So, you only care about his feelings?" Childe asks, feigning dramatics.

“Maybe just a tiiiny bit more.”

Childe gives him a deadpan look just as you say, “Regardless, it’ll be fun!”

After some time, Tighnari leaves early for a meeting, leaving you and Childe at the table. There's a short silence as you and Childe finish what's left on your plate. Then, the conversation takes a serious turn.

"...Remember our conversation about the curse the other day?" Childe asks. You nod. "When I found out about what's been happening to my mother, I changed much later. Love might be the key to solving this, but it's like we're getting there one step at a time by discovering these secrets."

“...And it seems like we can’t run away from them.”

“Yeah… By leaving Sumeru, I’m pretty much forcing myself to talk to them.”

“I know you’ll be fine,” you say reassuringly. “And… your mom’s strong. She’ll get through this.”

Childe smiles weakly. “Thanks. But, hey, doesn't this mean there’s still something between you and Alhaitham you have to find out.”

You sigh. “Yeah, good point. And…”

“...And?”

You’re silent for a moment until you finally say, “Nevermind. I… I think I’ve been watching too many dramas lately.”

“Watching or writing?”

“Both.”

Childe chuckles. “C’mon, lunch is almost over.”

After you and Childe pay for your respective meals, you head back to the office.

◆◆◆

This isn't the first time Alhaitham has visited a TV station. However, it is the first time he's been invited as the CEO of a company and not as a researcher. Along with other experts and company executives, he will appear on the evening news as a speaker to discuss views on the ever-evolving technology industry and artificial intelligence. Alhaitham has just finished speaking to the producers when he overhears another interesting conversation a few feet away.

“What? Ayato didn’t get the role?”

“Shh! It’s supposed to be confidential.”

When Alhaitham happens to meet that person’s eyes, that person quickly walks away with his colleague. Alhaitham walks into the hallway, looking for a washroom, when he bumps into someone unexpected.

“Oh, Haitham.”

“Ayato. This is a nice surprise.”

Ayato smiles. “Yes. I saw you filming for the evening news channel. Very interesting perspectives.”

Alhaitham nods once. "How have you been?"

"Well... I can live without any surprises for a while."

"Is everything alright?"

Ayato glances around before quietly saying, “...Thoma told me everything. The truth of what happened to my ex-fianceé.”

“...You’re telling me she killed herself?”

"I’m… truly sorry, Ayato. I shouldn’t have kept it from you for so long.”

“...So, why are you telling me this now?”

“I don’t want you to shoulder this burden anymore. I thought… it’ll help you gain strength to pursue what you really want in life.”

Ayato closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “What I really want in life, huh?” Then, he looked Thoma in the eyes. “I didn’t get the role.”

“What? They… made a decision already?”

Ayato smiled wryly. “I guess… my best wasn’t good enough.”

"...We talked for a bit, and he told me that you and she knew about it long before I did," Ayato finishes.

"...That's true."

Ayato sighs. "Is it bad that even after knowing what really happened to her, that is the last thing on my mind right now?”

“...I don’t think so.” Ayato looks at him as Alhaitham continues, “It happened so long ago. I would assume you’re focusing on your problems… in the present.”

Ayato smiles. “Yes, you’re correct in that regard. It was my first time auditioning for a lead role, and… I lost it.” He looks down. “...The casting director said I lacked purpose.”

“Purpose?”

Just then, Alhaitham’s phone goes off.

“Ah, my apologies,” Ayato says. “I went off a little on a tangent. You must be busy.”

Just as Ayato walks past Alhaitham, he hears his name. Ayato turns around and sees Alhaitham looking at him.

“Don’t give up.”

Ayato smiles. “I appreciate the encouragement.”

As Ayato walks off, Alhaitham answers the call from his mother.

“The table has been booked!"

“You sound excited,” he says.

“Of course, I am. I’m meeting your girlfriend, after all.”

Alhaitham thinks back to Layla's conversation with his mother and says, "Are you sure you haven't met her somewhere, perhaps?"

“Why would you say that, Haitham? If I did, I would tell you.”

Alhaitham looks over his shoulder as two TV station employees pass by. "...I'll see you tonight at dinner."

Then, he ends the call, puts his phone inside his pocket, and continues on his way.

◆◆◆

Is this how Alhaitham felt when he met your mother? Nervous? Jittery? Because that’s exactly what you’re feeling. You close your closet door and look into the full-length mirror. You're wearing a casual, beige evening dress; you also opt for a natural make-up look to match. When you hear the knock at your door, you grab your small bag hanging on a hook and go to open the front door.

Alhaitham is wearing a teal, collared shirt that snugly hugs his athletic figure. He leaves the first two buttons unbuttoned, giving you a little tease of his chest. His black pants emphasize his long legs. When he steps closer to you, you get a whiff of his cologne. He takes your hand and lightly kisses it.

“Good evening, my lady.”

“My, what a greeting,” you say with a small smile. Then, you lean closer and kiss his cheek.

Alhaitham bends his arm, signalling for you to loop your arm around his. Once you do, he ushers you down to his car.

“I bumped into Ayato at the TV station today,” Alhaitham says as the car weaves through the busy Sumeru streets.

“Really? How’s he doing?”

“...Thoma told him what happened to his ex-fianceé.”

“Ah… and is he… okay?”

“I’m sure it came as a big shock,” Alhaitham says. “But he seems to be fine."

“That’s good to hear. Does he know if his curse changed?”

“I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it." A small pause. "I think there's a lot on his mind right now.”

Does it have to do with the acting role you last heard about?

Alhaitham pulls up to a fancy restaurant in the heart of the business district. Eventually, you two walk into the building, holding hands, and meet up with Alhaitham's mother.

As soon as she sees you, she gasps.

"Hello, hello!" She stands, walks over, and gives you a hug. "It's so nice to meet you, dear."

Alhaitham subtly glances around. It looks like Layla decided not to show up. What excuse did she give his mother? And… how did his mother take it?

“...What did you say your name was?”

Alhaitham tunes back into the conversation just as you repeat your name. He looks at his mother and sees an expression of shock break through her polite smile. But, it disappears as quickly as it came.

“That’s such a pretty name, dear.” She gestures to the table. “Shall we sit?”

You and Alhaitham sit beside each other while his mother sits across from you. As his mother starts another conversation with you, Alhaitham subtly takes note of the slight stiffness in her actions. He can see the gears turning in her head.

Something’s up. He can feel it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

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[jerzwriter]

Know it All

Thank you to @mydemonsdrivealimo for this ask. By now we know that me and 100-words can't go in the same sentence, but it's still short for me :)

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 timeline) Characters: Bryce Lahela, Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 921 Summary: Casey needs the scoop on someone, and she knows exactly who to go to. A/N: Participating in @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 25, Secret

Being a resident was tough. The hours were grueling, and making a mistake didn’t merely get you into trouble or cost you a promotion; it was the definition of life or death. The stress could be overwhelming, but luckily, Casey heeded Dr. Delarosa's advice and built strong friendships with her fellow residents. It made perfect sense; seeing people outside of work was almost impossible. She was learning that the hard way since she met an intriguing doctor from Mass Kenmore a few weeks before. An intriguing doctor whose schedule never matched up with hers. 

Fortunately, Bryce's schedule did, and she was meeting him in the cafeteria for lunch. While her stomach was grumbling, if she had to choose between nourishment or feeding her curiosity, the latter would win today. She needed the lowdown, and who better to go to than her best buddy, Bryce.

"Boo!" Bryce smiled as he attempted to frighten her from behind.

"Nice try, Lahela."

Bryce tossed a protein bar her way and watched Casey’s face fall.

"Is this what you meant when you said you were treating me to lunch today?"

"Nope," he said, biting into his bar. "But have you seen the line for the registers? We can either have these delightfully chalky fake chocolate bars and conversation, or we can spend our entire break on that line and not talk at all."

"You know, this doesn't taste so bad," she smiled.   

"That’s the right answer!” Bryce grinned. “Given the choice of a quality meal or my company, I believe my company is always the way to go.”

“Well, it works today,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Because I need to use you.”

“Casey,” he sighed dramatically. “I understand the longing, I do... but you know damn well we decided not to let our relationship go there.”

She shook her head without expression. “You know, you are such an ass! I’m not interested in ‘going there’ with you... but there is someone else that I might be....”

Bryce eagerly leaned over the table, his attention piqued. “Who? Who is it? Do I know them? Is it the hot new nurse in the ICU? Because I have it on good counsel that she has the hots for you.”

“Really? Well, that might be a good backup plan,” Casey giggled. “But that’s not who I’m talking about.”

She turned around to survey the room. Once confident no one was in earshot, she leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper.

“What do you know about Tobias Carrick from Kenmore.”

Bryce leaned back in his chair, a look bordering on disappointment registered on his face. “Carrick?” he said, a bit too loud as Casey shushed him.

“Yes, what do you know about him.”

“All right, first, thank you for recognizing that my knowledge base extends to all hospitals in this city, not just Edenbrook.”

“Can we stick to the point?”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I guess my question is... how do you intend to utilize him? Because if you’re looking for a couple of memorable nights that you’ll be bragging about into your nursing home years, Carrick’s your man. But if you’re looking for more than that, and you usually end up wanting more than that... well, in that case, I’d be happy to introduce you to Amira in ICU.”   

He could tell at once that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear.

“Is he that bad?” She asked. “I mean, I’ve heard he’s not exactly Mr. Commitment...”

“Understatement of the millennium,” Bryce interrupted.

“... BUT... Oh, Bryce, the man is super hot, and I really like him. He’s been nothing but attentive and sweet to me since we met.”

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“No....”

Bryce raised his hands in triumph. “I rest my case. Look, anyone who's not a straight man will tell you he is hot, and if you want to have fun, have fun. But I watched you go through entirely too much after the shit with he-who-we-will-not-name-while-at-work went down... and I don’t want to see you hurt like that again.”

They both looked at Casey’s phone as it vibrated on the table and now it was Bryce's turn to roll his eyes. Once he saw the stupid grin on his friend’s face, he knew two things:  the text was from Carrick, and Casey was already in much deeper than she was willing to admit.

“That him?” he asked for effect.

Casey pocketed her phone with a smirk. “Shut up.”

“Look,” he replied sincerely. “I haven’t heard that he’s a bad guy, just that he’s only interested in one thing. But a few of my buddies from the volleyball team know him well. I can weasel some information out of them if you like.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Oh!” he clapped his hands in excitement. “Better yet! I know his housekeeper's daughter! Jackpot! Who better to get dirt from,” he winked. “I’ll put in a call today.”

“How the hell do you know his housekeeper’s daughter?”

“She’s my florist.”

Casey closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

“And how do you know that your florist’s mother is Tobias’s housekeeper?”

“Casey,” he smiled smugly. “I know everything.”

His pager went off, and he jumped up from his chair.

“That’s Tanaka. Look, I’ve gotta run, but I’ll have a dossier about the guy ready for you by the end of tomorrow.”

“If surgery doesn’t work out for you, you might have a future in espionage.”

“The Hawaaiin James Bond,” he grinned. “I like it.”

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