#changed something in me in terms of charity and hospitality

[theretirementstory]

Remember, remember the 5th of November, Gunpowder, treason and plot.

Yes tonight is “Bonfire Night” in the UK, where an effigy of poor old Guy Fawkes (a Yorkshire lad) is remembered as he sits atop the burning fire. The bonfire is normally accompanied by a firework display.

We said goodbye to October this week and November arrived and with it more wet and windy weather.

I went to the hospital for a consultation and the haematologist was very pleased with my health. I only need a blood test once a month now reduced from once a week. I am still waiting for my appointments for the radiotherapy but I was told I would receive a phone call so I just have to wait. The appointment was very quick this time (which was good) I got home just as the daylight was going.

I was busy sorting lots of “stuff” for the charity shop and I was being rather ruthless. I drove into deepest darkest Haute Marne to my friends house then she drove me to the Emmaus charity shop. Wow, I was blown away, there were young men waiting with a “supermarket” trolley to collect the items from your car, they asked what was inside the boxes/bags so that they could put them into an appropriate “chest”. The car was quickly emptied and although we didn’t go into the shop it was a lovely ride out. I had a coffee and a chat with Sarah and Jonathan then left their home while we still had daylight. It was a lovely afternoon and we are going to do something another day soon.

My cleaner had been at my home twice this week. I managed to deal with the paperwork for her wages and I was very pleased with myself. She rang me on Friday to say that she had tested positive for Covid! Oh my goodness, me with the low immune system, let’s hope I am ok.

A note appeared in my letterbox saying I had a letter to be signed for. I collected it from the post office and it was a recall notice for my car. I went to the local garage and am booked in to get the car checked, it’s not until December but hopefully everything is fine with the car.

A couple of disappointments this week, firstly I needed one more ball of wool to finish the baby blanket. Drove up to the shop and, you guessed it, not one ball left! I did manage to pick up one ball of the blue colour (only 3 of those left) and I am now “knitting Nora” trying to knit this new blanket and have it finished before 24 November 😳. The second disappointment was the clothes I ordered on-line. The parcel arrived and I tried on said items only to find that they were too big 😩. I packed them up and posted them back and have placed an order for a smaller size 🤞that they fit much better.

“The Daddy” was doing his second job, volunteer photographer for Scarborough Athletic FC, on Saturday. It was a first round FA Cup match and to be honest I think all the family were following the score. Scarborough held the lead from the 27th minute. 3 minutes of added time was given at 90 minutes and at 90 + 2 minutes the opposition scored 😭. It’s a replay on 14 November.

“The Trainee Solicitor” has been looking at ways to reduce his outgoings. He has changed his home insurer and is looking at other ways to cut costs. It’s easy to be “led” when you are first buying a house and I am pleased that as things are due for renewal he is checking out similar options.

“The Ex-Graduate” has had a very busy week, working 45 hours this week. It was busier than usual due to the fact that it was school “half term” holidays, add to that the wet weather and everyone wanting to be inside! That’s a recipe for busy, busy, busy!

Right let’s have a look at this weeks songs. The first is from 1996 😳 it is Un-Break My Heart by Toni Braxton. Lots of reasons for liking this song, great singer, great guitar just lovely to listen to.

Talking of great guitar, here is another example. Parisienne Walkways by Gary Moore feat. Phil Lynott. This dates back to 1978, yes it does, I had to go into the singles box to check my copy of the record!

I haven’t had any visitors this week but have had messages from Maud, Monique, Denise a friend from the old knitting group and Claudine a friend from the new knitting group. Apparently, the new lady to the group has been hospitalised with viral meningitis!

I have been busy looking for a birthday present for a friend in the south of France. I think I have managed to find something and have also a thought for another year.

My week seems to have involved not much “out and about” more clicking of needles, but that is how it goes sometimes.

My neighbour, up the street, has been putting up a six foot high wire fence around first his back garden and now his front garden. I don’t understand, it makes it look like a fortress and even more puzzling is the fact that he doesn’t own his home he just rents it! I had the shrubs removed from my front garden to open up my space and this man seems to want to “shut himself off”. Each to their own I suppose.

Quite a few people have had fences put up around their back gardens this year but I really would hate my shrubs to be removed where would the birds go? I love to see them swooping around the garden.

Well it’s time to go, I can hear the needles calling me 😂.

Bon dimanche.

[squeakysleeper]

11/28/22

trying something a little new here. i’m in a spiral, having trouble holding myself accountable to things i need to do so maybe this will unlock some cheat code where if there’s a possibility that someone else could hold me accountable to my goals, i might do better with achieving them. that being said, not expecting any interaction with these or people to read them, though if you do, that’s also cool! i’m just trying to journal style jedi mind trick myself and we’ll see how it goes!

these posts will be journal entries, nothing like, personal in the way of social security numbers but that being said, dunno how personal i’ll feel like getting any given day, assuming i manage to keep this up. ‘snapshots in life’ is my personal tag, feel free to blacklist it if you like! (don’t tell me though, the idea that someone could see these is the point of this attempt) i am going through some serious stuff, probably won’t be all positive, but there is also positive stuff going on too which i will do my best to focus on as well.

that said, here we go for the first entry.

my brother got out of the hospital today, which is good, I suppose. sounds like the hospital has flagged him for a charity case which means for him that they’re aware they messed up so bad they’re trying to make sure he doesn’t sue, but as long as there’s no long term complications from their actions, that’s far better that a 30k debt. fingers crossed, there.

bit of a scare later, which my father got very combative about. he was a doctor for over thirty years, but he’s never had much in the way of empathy, and five minutes of medical advice was a big ask, i guess. i’m glad he was less combative with my brother than he was with me, and actually gave good counsel, and calmed him down when things got dicey, but still.

coming to terms with the actual lack of care from my parents is…a work in progress, i suppose. one of those things you always know and then coming to find out it’s far worse than you thought is an experience. to inject some positivity here, i’m having good luck building a new family in this new place. and there’s always my friend’s parents who I’m spending holidays with, it’s nice to love people and have them love you back. i haven’t had as much of that as i thought i had in my life, and to have it now and realize what i had been lacking for so long is both a blessing and a hell of a head trip.

my other brother paul has been checking in with aaron, the one in the hospital, which is good. they haven’t spoken consistently in years, and when i talked to aaron and he told me paul had checked in every day, he started to cry. i know how much he loves and misses paul, and how much he wants his brother back so here’s hoping something changes. we used to be inseparable, the three of us, and i miss him too. but maybe this will be the thing that brings paul back to us. i guess we’ll see.

i’m flying out to texas in a few days so I can be with aaron in case of any emergencies, it’ll be good for him to have someone nearby and I’m always happy to be that person. he’s there for me all the time. plus, us kids gotta stick together. sometimes i wonder if the lack of emotional connection from our parents is what made is so close, or if we’re just lucky. could be the large age gap, too. i hear people sometimes talking about how they hate their brothers, but i love mine very much, even if one has run off for now.

haven’t heard from david, my soon-to-be ex-husband, which is a relief. my stomach drops through the floor every time he calls. i still feel trapped some days, but i try to remind myself it isn’t forever, and a day will come when it’s the last day i ever speak to him. hopefully it will come soon.

tomorrow is my five week check-in for my break at work. i’ll start back up at the end of december, which i know, but i should also be getting a raise. i’ll find out during that phone call, i suppose.

oof, five weeks. i haven’t done shit. there are still unpacked boxes in my bedroom and the living room, it’s kind of a mess. i’ve been playing ark which is not a good thing probably, it’s an easy game to hide in. i need to clean this place and organize, but baby steps, that’s why i’m doing this.

LIST FOR TOMORROW TO BE FINISHED BY 5PM

do one load of laundry

shower

find aaron’s church books including a neil a maxwell quote book

label boxes in living room and attic and take two (2) upstairs

put away kitchen boxes

pay repair loan (update: apparently not due yet)

clip moose’s nails

start stone tumbler

buy batteries

*BIG TO-DO*

make the closet easily accessible

[siena-sevenwits]

Have you ever come to a part in a story where a character made a choice, for good or for ill, and just reading about that choice and its impact directly influenced your real life outlook?

[creweemmaeec11]

My favourite prompts:

A list of my favourite prompts that I’ve posted in the past, all curated into a huge list just for you guys!

1

Finally, the day has come. The villain is thought to be dead. The hero has won.

Until suddenly the hero learns the villain left them EVERYTHING in their will. Made them the owner and operator of all their illegal business.

Obviously, the hero plans to shut everything down immediately. But they quickly realize just how many people the villain employed… how many family’s they fed…

2

“You kissed me,”

“I did… and?”

“What-!? What do you mean and!?,”

“What more do you want?”

“An explanation would be a good start!”

“…or I could just do it again…”

*other person turns bright red,*

“Or… or that, I suppose,”

3

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I think the better question would be what in the hell are you wearing,” the villain replied, amusement clear on their face, like they were struggling to keep from laughing.

“What- it’s-” the hero blushed, remembering what they were wearing, “their pajamas! What are you-!”

“Oh my god…” the villain replied, like they were struggling to come to terms with what they were seeing, “the hero of the city not only own, but wears a onesie,”

“Excuse me!” The hero snapped in defence, “They’re comfortable!”

“They? You have more??”

4

“I gotta say hero,” The villain mused as they casually moved toward the cell bars, “I’ve been called many things in my life: monster, villain, outcast, loser, scoundrel,” they tilted their head, examining the hero before them, “but ‘our last hope?’” *clicks tongue* “that’s a first,”

5

You live in a world where anyone born with superpowers must become a super hero. It doesn’t matter what the power is, or how small it is, it is mandatory. It was deemed that having anyone with superpowers work alongside regular people was “unsafe” and “unfair.” Every year, dozens of superhero’s with powers useless for fighting are killed. You’ve managed to make it this long with nobody finding out you have a superpower. But how much longer can you hide in plain sight?

6

The city’s villain mysteriously disappears and hasnt been seen in a week. The people are celebrating, but the hero is worried. What if the villain is planning something big? Determined to stop whatever evil plan is brewing, the hero tracks the villain down, but they dont find what they expected. Instead of evil plotting, the villain:

-Has been taking care of a sick pet -Come down with the flu -Been helping arrange a friends wedding -Found out they were pregnant -Is getting married themselves -Mourning the death of a loved one -Has adopted a young pet and been occupied taking care of them -Has been helping one of their lackeys who’s in a desperate situation -Has been feeding the homeless and offering blankets

7

You’re the most wanted villain by all highest ranking authorities, but all the heros “just can’t seem to catch you” (they always let you get away) because all your crimes are things like stealing expensive medication and then donating it to hospitals, robbing toy stores and donating to orphanages, robbing banks and giving to charity, robbing grocery stores and feeding the homeless, ect

8

A hero/villain with the power to materialize their own tattoos. Got a wrench tattoo? Now you’ve got a wrench. Got a tattoo of wings? A bomb? A get away car? Well…

Dragon tattoos have always been popular, havent they?

9

Write about a genius inventor villain who, while watching the news, learns about a sick child in hospital doctors arnt sure they can cure. The villain realizes something theyve invented could cure the child. Now the hard part is convincing them to let the villain help.

10

The villain starts to notice the hero is feeling more down the usual, so they start leaving the hero little notes to cheer them up. All is going well until the hero figures out who is sending them.

11

In a world of magic users where everyone is divided into the 6 eye colours, and the colour of your eyes represents what your powers are. Each colour has an elemental power, can talk to a certain type of creature(Invertebrates, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals), and has 3 other powers. For example, blue eyes control water, can commune with fish, etc. Everyone in the world has either red, orange, yellow, green, blue or purple eyes. Except for you, you were born with black eyes. Everyone is afraid of what your powers will be, but they should be more worried about the kind of creatures you can talk to…

12

A hero and a villain (and maybe their sidekicks, up to you) trapped in a haunted house or haunted location.  

-One is scared so the other comforts them. They are both scared but trying to act like they aren’t. -One doesn’t believe in ghosts, and the other has the power to communicate with them or see them. -Ghosts aren’t real, but one continues to try and freak the other out, who claims they aren’t scared. -Ghost wingman. I need’ d say no more -One gets possessed, so the other has to do the whole ‘kiss to break a curse’ thing to bring them out of it. -The classic Person A thinks ghosts aren’t real so they prank Person B to scare them. Then shit gets real, but person B doesn’t believe person A, thinking its just another prank.

13

“I trusted you! You promised!”

“I kept my promise! I got you your results! Don’t question my methods from a top that high moral horse or yours, especially when the only reason you made a deal with me in the first place was because you were too much of a coward to do what needed to be done!”

14

The local wildfire has been growing out of control, forcing the city to have to evacuate. Suddenly, the villain with water powers shows up to lend a hand to fire fighters.

15

“Tell me hero,” the villain spoke, chains jangling from where they hung on the villains wrists as they walked up to the bars of the jail cell, “If you wanted to skip a press conference, could you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re sisters getting married, but your needed for a big event at the hero academy that day. Would you be allowed to attend the wedding? What about if your brother stole a pack of gum. Could you let it slide? Not would you, but could you?”

The hero paused. Could they? They had responsibilities! They had commitments to the city, and to the serving of justice!

The villain laughed at the heros silence, “I may be in jail, but you’re more chained then I’ll ever be,”

16

“So tell me,” the villain drawled, dragging a finger across the heros skin, making them shiver, “what changed your mind?”

17

Hero discovers the villain has a day job. It isnt at all what they expected. (Day care, animal shelter, etc)

18

“What are you going to do if you beat me, and suddenly the city dosent need a hero? What are you going to do if you get hurt and can no longer fight, and the city forgets about you just like all the heros before you? Who will you be when your legacy crumbles under the weight of all those who follow? Will you take up knitting?”

The hero stared unblinking and frozen as the villain took a step forward.

“Sure, your a hero. But what are you without that?”

The villain took another step forward.

“Your nothing, heroism is all you have. That pathetic title you curl up to every night. But without it?” They looked the hero up and down, “Absolutely nothing…”

19

A villain retires from villainy and gets plastic surgery (or simply never showed their face) so they can live a normal life without being recognized. While living their new life, they bump into the hero, and the two start falling for eachother. But the villain is terrified of the hero finding out the truth

20

The hero slammed their front door as quickly as they could, eyes wide, heart pounding.

The villain. The villain was outside their door.

“Well that was rude,”

21

A hero with magic powers, in a world where magic is unheard of. They have always kept their powers a secret, fearing they would be shunned, or tested on. They never use their powers in battle.

One day, while practicing their magic alone in the woods, the villain appears out of nowhere. 

Before the hero can explain, the villain asks, “you have powers too?”

22

A hero dies. Or at least, they think they do. The next thing they know they wake up at their own funeral. And the only person there? Is the villain.

23

“The worst part, is you had the nerve to call it love”

[bobbie-robron]

Robron Fanfiction Recommendations (Sep-2021)

The below were/are recommended during Sep-2021 on Twitter! 😊

Never Was Yours (2018) 104.3K words

Robert has pulled his investment from the scrapyard as he remains with a pregnant Chrissie. Aaron has a ons with Reid (aka Superman and also, as Vic would say, ‘my brother’s long lost twin’ looks-wise) who he learns the following morning is also a potential new investor. Robert, then Adam, have their suspicions about Reid but will Aaron listen to them or anyone as he goes ahead with a relationship with the Robert 2.0? Will Robert and Aaron find their way back to each other?

you make me feel this way somehow (2016) 50.0K words

We are back to the aftermath of SSW2016 and Aaron’s in hospital with ring on his finger. We take a total detour of what actually happened after that and follow our engaged lads over the course of time building their life together with open communication and PDAs. Be prepared to get moments that we were denied us on screen!

Coming to Terms (2016) 17.2K words

It’s been six years since Robert left village in late 2015 after Aaron told him he hated him and nothing was gonna change that. Now, at a party held by his boyfriend Chris’s friends, Aaron is surprised to see Robert there and being introduced to his own boyfriend. This brings back old feelings as well as ones of jealousy, resentment and regret. Will coming to terms with their past lead to closure or something different?

Worse Than Strangers (2019) 27.8K words

Robert and Aaron fell in love but Jack was not standing for his son being with a man so things end between them badly. Five years later, Robert is renting out Home Farm to an anonymous tenant after the failure of Rug Tree Bonds and it turns out to be now famous rugby player Aaron. Chas and new hubby John move in and Aaron follows. There is coldness in Aaron’s eyes when they see each other. Can they move forward from the hurt for another chance or is all lost?

The fundamental things apply (2018) 26.5K words

It’s been eighteen months and Aaron is still not over the loss of Jackson. Liv is worried about her brother’s state of mind so she decides to call into a Christmas Eve talk show wishing her brother a new boyfriend. At the same time Robert, a reporter just engaged to Chrissie, is listening in to the segment as Aaron goes on air and feels a connection. Soon after he’s asked to write a piece on it and the man from the village…

Dirty Dancing (2018) 57.3 works

Robert is a manager for a nightclub owned by the father-in-law. He hires Aaron as a pole dancer for a ladies night charity event. The time leading up to the event, Robert’s thoughts are mostly of Aaron so much so that he hires him as a bar man after the event to keep him close and they give in to each other’s desires. Soon enough they start an affair…

the mechanics of love (2017) 11.6K words

Robert works at a local paper while he’s writing his masterpiece novel, well attempting to but for that pesky years long writer’s block. Robert is assigned to interview the owner of a local garage and meets mechanic Aaron. Soon enough they go out an really enjoy their date. How will things follow from there?

[officalroyalsofpierreland]

Interviewer: Your Imperial Highness, thank you for sitting down with me! We are in Francesim and we were lucky enough to do the photoshoot outside the Lourve Palace, which was amazing.

Minerva: Yes, my cousin and His Imperial Majesty Emperor Napoleon IV are good friends, so David may have let him know ahead of time (laughs)

Interviewer: Now first, I have to ask, How are you feeling? How has your recovery been and your mental health since the murder attempt in Lunaria?

Minerva: I've been doing okay. Physically, I really must thank the doctors and nurses at King Richter Royal Hospital in Lunaria, really without them I wouldn't have made it. I also must thank my good friend the Marquis of Neuchâtel who discovered me...I owe him for life. Mentally, it's been a little rough...I can't really sleep till I've triple checked my doors and made sure I have alert security around...the experience has really messed with me emotionally as well, I feel abit more sad than before, but I'm so thankful for my family. They've really rescued me from myself alot.

Interviewer: How do you feel about the lack of transparency in terms of the investigation from Lunaria?

Minerva: Let me start by saying, I love Lunaria. I think it's a beautiful country, the people amaze me constantly, and I think very highly of the royal family. Unfortunately, there are people within the government who fear the truth, and the consequences of the truth. I know that the longer I have to wait for the results along with the continued darkness the PBI (Pierreland Bureau of Investigation) faces, the more suspicious I will be of the LIA's results...which is sad, because there are people in the LIA who want justice to have it's day. They are the ones doing the real work but there are others who wish to it to remain clouded in darkness, and those are people who have the most to lose if the truth comes out, they know who they are.

Interviewer: Your Imperial Highness, Your fashion has been talked about worldwide. You have access to an entire vault of jewels but you wear very little. What are your favorite pieces?

Minerva: Well, I don't really wear much jewelry. I kinda like being able to be inconspicuous. But I do enjoy wearing this bracelet from the Isles I got on a vacation and the Heart of the Crown...if I had to pick only two pieces these would be it.

Interviewer: So You still wear the Heart of the Crown? Shouldn't that be in the Possession of Crown Prince Nicholas of Lunaria?

Minerva: I tried to give it back but he told me to keep it. Its a reminder of the happy times we spent together.

Interviewer: And the bracelet, the pattern is the Paradisian Blues, common for star crossed lovers, any tea?

Minerva: I'll let you decide if there is.

Interviewer: Your charity work has been nonstop since you were cleared by the Imperial doctors, particularly with Ladies for Change. You are actually heading up a new campaign for the group?

Minerva: yes! I'm currently heading up the Happy, Safe, and Loved Campaign which is to help women and men who have been in abusive relationships heal from those wounds but also to help family and friends spot the signs of abuse. It comes from a personal place for me, one of my previous boyfriends really damaged me emotionally and mentally. In fact I'm teaming up with HRH Crown Princess Elodie of Simalia ( @simaliaroyals) to do a charity fashion show along side one of her patronages Speak Up. I'm very excited to help bring more awareness to these wonderful causes!

Interviewer: What is your defining moment? A single instance that shaped your values and your goals?

Minerva: I have to say, My defining moment has to be when I left my abusive ex. It was a moment of great freedom for me, I finally took my life back. I was able to have control of my body, what I wore, who I spoke to. I was able to be myself again which was just...amazing! I really thought I was going to be stuck with him forever. I was able to get into animal charitable work, something I wasn't allowed to do in the relationship. I started helping in Women's Shelters on my mum's [HIH GrandDuchess of Siene] suggestion. I even was able to learn to defend myself. The freedom I've gained has allowed me to reawaken the parts of me I had shut away for so long, such as my strength of character which helped when my family all reconnected and when I became Ambassador to Lunaria.

Interviewer: Speaking of Lunaria, do you miss it?

Minerva: Absolutely! Its a beautiful country, and I've made so many friends there. I've really missed spending time with [HRH]Annalise. I've also missed spending time with Paradise, and so has Marley!

Interviewer: How is your dog?

Minerva: Oh she's doing great! Jerome and I still split who keeps her but she's very used to it.

Interviewer: Can we circle back to events in currently happening in Lunaria?

Minerva: Of course.

Interviewer: Clearly, there are many different things going on. Your cousin, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, has placed an embargo. Since the Lunarian people are suffering under the House of Lords, how would you go about fixing the problems there, if you had the power?

Minerva: I'd do something some...conservatives would find quite bold, I'd take back my power and start by stripping titles and lands away from some of the Lords.

Interviewer: Wow, that is bold. Why?

Minerva: Its quite simple: They've gotten too complacent in their power. They took advantage of a previous monarch whose health was in decline and gave themselves more control. However, the current monarch is not in decline, he is very much alive and well. Yet the House of Lords still keep the parental controls on as it were. I know His Majesty [King Arden of Lunaria] is trying his best to help the people of Lunaria, that is his fullest intent, but actions will speak louder than intentions and I hope that HM will take the forceful action both David[His Imperial Majesty Emperor David of Pierreland] and I know his reign and his country needs. Lunaria needs to know that HM will be in their corner with more than words.

Interviewer: One last Question, and its one many people want to know. How is your love life?

Minerva(laughing): It's very complicated.

Interviewer: well you were quite close with Crown Prince Nicholas of Lunaria, have you spoke recently?

Minerva: We spoke at the wedding actually! We are going to try being friends. We both...have missed the other's presence in our lives....nothing can replace Nicky's warm smile to brighten my day.

Interviewer: Now, this a big question, do you love him?

Minerva: That...that is something I don't want to answer...just because that is beautiful and sacred between us and the Watcher that is...its...its a hard question to answer and also not answer...but he knows where my heart stands.

shoutout to @empiredesimparte for letting me say Minnie was in Francesim since I found this cool Louvre build online!

@simsroyallegacy

[jamespotterthefirst]

Drinks For Two

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1,800 Warning: None Author’s Note: That premium scene from Book 1, Chapter 2 at the bar from Ethan’s POV 

Catch up here.

_______

The raucous cacophony surrounding Ethan that evening at Donahue's is not enough distraction from his traitorous thoughts, much to his annoyance. Ordinarily, the small bar serves as his sanctuary, a blessed transitional space between the harsh demands of the job and the tranquility of home. On most nights, he prefers the place silent enough to enjoy his drink in numbing peace. Upon entering the place and seeing the crowd of intoxicated, uproarious interns, however, Ethan kisses that fantasy goodbye. 

He decides to stay anyway because lord knows he needs a drink after the hell hole of a day he had. Ethan, ever the optimist, even finds a silver lining in hoping that the mindless, drunken chatter will keep him from reliving it. When that fails, the riotous noise is nothing but that: noise. 

Ethan takes a swig of his drink, savoring the pleasant burn in his throat. 

“I don't want your opportunities or your charity. I want my patient to get better.”

Memories of fiery, bright eyes flood him, unbidden. 

“And if that's not everyone's priority at this hospital, I'd rather you fire me now.”

Righteous, impassioned anger had colored her face as she spat the words at him with a vehemence that had given him pause. And all after he had placed a precious learning opportunity on a silver platter for her taking? Who the hell did this intern think she was? The nerve, the gall, the idiotic insolence of that brash, silver-tongued, headstrong girl...

Ethan loses steam. 

That passionate, fearless, intelligent and rather pretty girl.

 A slew of less professional adjectives inundate his awareness before he can stop them. Inwardly groaning, he throws back another drink. 

An eruption of cheers and wolf whistles mercifully pulls him from his thoughts. Ethan doesn't need to look to know it's coming from the surgical interns, the rowdiest of the bunch by default. Add to that scores of cheap alcohol and the galvanizing promise of competition a game of dart brings, and they are downright unbearable. 

When he does spare them a glance, he is greeted by the sight of a burly, good-looking surgical intern dipping a brunette backwards before planting a scandalous kiss on her lips. 

“Get it, Lahela!” 

“Traitor!” 

God, how Ethan hated PDA. 

A whirl of green fabric and glossy brown hair is all Ethan sees as the recipient of the kiss straightens herself, slightly woozy and gripping Lahela’s muscular arms for dear life. It is only when she shifts on her feet that Ethan catches a glimpse of that distinctive smile— the very same he had seen all day, both in person and in his recollection. Lilac Allende, pretty face bright and eyes sparkling, grins at the surgical intern as he whispers something in her ear. 

And then, like a stroke of lighting, her eyes meet Ethan’s for the briefest of moments. 

Ethan glances away too quickly, his slight annoyance tapering into sheer irritation. His mood deteriorates when he finds his glass empty though he doesn't get the opportunity to order another because mere seconds later, he can see a hazy shape in forest green approaching. 

Stubborn as ever, Ethan determinedly avoids gazing her way. He foolishly thinks this will be successful until she is right at his side and practically impossible to ignore. This, of course, does not escape her notice, officially deeming her the most frustrating person he's ever met. 

“Something wrong, Dr. Ramsey?” she asks and he can practically hear the cheeky grin in her melodic voice. 

As his eyes take in the full force of the outfit she is wearing, he mentally determines the only thing that is wrong are the thoughts the revealing number invites. He makes a conscious effort to keep his eyes on her face and not on the tortuous path her daring neckline sets. Ethan loses the battle for a millisecond because his eyes fall on the black, lacy contraption peeking from her blouse (if he can call it that), the sight a sweet kind of torture. Feeling like an absolute ass, he fixes his gaze on hers, convinced he can still salvage both of their dignities by saying something vague. 

“Just noticing how… different you look out in the real world.”

Dr. Allende looks as though she doesn't believe him and she opens her mouth, perhaps to brashly tell him so. Luckily, Reggie slides over to their side of the bar. 

“What'll it be?”

She becomes distracted by the question and Ethan privately thanks Reggie's impeccable timing. Dr. Allende pensively chews her lip as she contemplates his empty glass. Ethan pauses, promptly telling himself this is to humor her while also satisfying his own curiosity and not because of the vision that is her bottom lip, made swollen by the pressure of the bite. 

“Scotches, neat,” she finally tells Reggie, with a confidence that almost earns her an impressed nod. 

In their silence, Dr. Allende cuts him a look that is almost bashful, despite all the bravado she displays. Her posture is ramrod straight and Ethan can practically feel the nervous energy radiating from her. With a bolt, he realizes she is silently extending an olive branch. A truce from their previous encounter at Edenbrook. 

“Why neat instead of on the rocks?” he asks, his own quiet way of accepting. 

“The ice changes the flavor,” she returns at once, shoulders relaxing visibly. 

“Right answer.”

A ghost of a smile escapes him and she takes this with evident satisfaction, returning it with a smug smirk of her own. The crowded, ebullient bar suddenly becomes stifling to Ethan as he holds her gaze. To make it worse, someone decides that is the best moment to play an Al Green song on the jukebox. 

Reggie returns with their drinks, saving him again. 

“You know I can't be bribed into favoring you, right?” Ethan keeps his face masterfully impassive, his voice expertly controlled as he says this, the first thing he could think of to deter from it all.

“I think you already favor me.”

God, she is good. That clever little quip is enough to inspire a quiet laugh from him, the sound almost foreign to his ears. 

“You keep believing that,” he returns almost at once. 

This, in turn, makes her match his laughter. Before he can squash it, Ethan feels a proud jolt of satisfaction at being the one to cause the sound. 

Reggie returns, noticing their empty glasses. The loaded grin he flashes Ethan leaves no doubt the older man caught the exchange. 

“Two specials,” Ethan says, ignoring this. “Thanks, Reggie.”

“Only for you, Ethan,” his old friend returns with a chuckle, his eyes moving over to Dr. Allende before he moves away to prepare his order. 

She sends him a curious look. “You're on first-name terms with the bartender?”

“He's an old friend. I come here most nights.”

Ethan can see her considering the statement quietly. “You don't have anyone waiting at home?”

Ethan hesitates, marveling at her tone, easy and casual as though she was asking for the time. Shifting in his seat slightly, he consciously refuses to look for any meaning behind the question. 

“I'll come here even when I do,” he responds after a long pause. “I need some buffer between the hospital and the world. An airlock.” Briefly, he thinks of Harper and the many arguments that became too constant in the last months of their relationship. 

“Don't take the job home with you, Lilac.” He's not sure why he utters the advice, but it is gone from his lips before he can stop it. Vaguely, he realizes that is the first time he calls her by her first name. 

Dr. Allende doesn't seem to notice. She considers him, biting the inside of her cheek. “I'll keep that in mind…” she says, “but you didn't answer my question.”

Ethan decides then that sharp perceptiveness will be his demise. 

“No. Nobody waiting at home tonight.”

There is no reaction because his order arrives. 

Grateful, Ethan offers her the dark liquid. “Here, try this.”

Dr. Allende accepts the drink wordlessly. She swirls it around in the glass before taking a careful sniff. Ethan almost rolls his eyes though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't amused. Seemingly satisfied, she downs more than half of it with spectacular skill. 

“Well, how's it compare?” he prompts, unable to keep that insistent need to know what she is thinking at bay. The way she assesses the empty glass between his fingers, her jaw working as she collects her thoughts only adds to the allure. 

She meets his eye with a grin. “That's amazing!” 

When he finds no indication of dishonesty on her face, Ethan allows another wave of self-congratulatory smugness. “Either you're sucking up to me, or you've got surprisingly refined taste for an intern. ”

The lopsided quirk of her lips leaves him entirely too charmed for his liking. “I'm surprising in a lot of ways.”

“You'll have to prove that.”

The words are redundant for she had been doing just that from the very instant he met her. 

Eyes locked on hers, he raises his glass. “To your intern year. In the hopes you don't completely blow everything you've worked your whole life for.”

Dr. Allende scrunches that freckle dusted nose of hers. “Morbid,” she comments, though not without a signature smile. “I like it.”

Their glasses meet, the clink of the crystal lost in the revelry around them. 

An upbeat pop song he is too old and too prideful to know the name of booms through the speakers. It is met with approving cheers from the drunk crowd. Over the hubbub, the sound of her name reaches them. 

“Lilac!”

It is from a group of interns at the other end of the bar. Ethan briefly recognizes the short, bubbly one as the intern who pulled him away from his furious rant earlier that day. 

“Are we dancing or not?” she yells over the music. 

Lilac turns to Ethan who only waves his hand dismissively, encouraging her to go. As she turns to join her friends, she halts, turning to consider him quietly. 

For a wild moment, Ethan thinks she might ask him to dance. Drink in hand he selfishly considers what it would be to dance with her, bodies close and lost to the beat of the music. Where might her hands be on his body as they moved? Where would his be? He vanishes the thought with more determination than necessary, though the heat that flares from his neck to his face is impossible to ignore. 

Perhaps realizing she is not quite so brave, Lilac shoots him one last smile and simply says, “Good night, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Good night, Dr. Allende.”

________

Author’s Note: Who could have put the Al Green song? Hmm. 

Thank you for reading!

At the risk of committing to an ambitious endeavor, I really want to do as many of these as possible. I think my next one will be from the Dolores chapter.  

_______

Tags:  @openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies | @infinitiestones | @flyawayboo | @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum | @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn | @choicesyouplayandmore | @chasingrobbie | @trappedinfandoms | @togetherwearerapture | @nooruleman | @caseyvalentineramsey | @axwalker | @parkerattano | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker | @kaavyaethanramsey | @edith-eggs1 | @choices-lurker | @jens-diamondchoices | @tefigranger | @ethanrcmsey | @coffeebeandragon | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey | @aestheticartwriting | @longneckramsey | @binny1985 | @mvalentine | @sanchita012 | @drethanramslay | @ramseysno1rookie | @takeharryandgo | @aworldoffandoms | @desmaranj | @ josieplayschoices | @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor | @oofchoices | @ethxnrxmsey | @octobereighth | @colossalpainintheass | @kopenheart12 | @lilyvalentine | @honeyandsunfl0wers​ | @virtualrain202 

@dulceghernandez |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Hero Deku meets Singer Shouto

Hi @ire-mired, I’m your secret santa for the @bnhagiftexchange. Sorry you had to wait so long for this. I hope you enjoy this, it was really hard to pick between the ships and I hope the story was good. It’s more pre-relationship but it just worked out. I thought since I was doing singer!Shouto, I thought it’d be cool to have Quirkless Hero!Izuku as well. There’s a little easter egg from the todoshindeku story ‘Heroics and Other Things That Don’t Require Superheros’ by @thenarator if you’re interested. I hope you enjoy!

Izuku climbed out of the town car. He still felt weird about being carted around like this. Even when he was in civilian clothes, he tended to use his high air pressured shoes to hop around everywhere. Which of course is half of where all those bunny comments came from but it was easier. Public transport got crowded when they realised the quirkless hero Deku was on the same train or bus as them.

But he could keep his comments about it to himself today. Today was special.

“Deku, welcome! We can’t thank you enough for taking the time out of your busy schedule to come today.” The man waiting by the door said, once the hero was close enough. He was in a suit and seemed perfectly put together but he didn’t reek of ‘I’m-to-good-for-everyone’.

“Of course I made time. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“The kids will be so happy their favourite hero came. You have no idea how much they look up to you.”

“That makes me very happy to hear. Shall we get started?” Izuku asked.

“Of course, right this way. And thank you again for taking the back entrance. We’re all for press taking interest in our cause, but they tend to be a bit overzealous. We handpicked a few to be inside with us. Thank you for the recommendations.”

“My pleasure.”

Izuku walked through the community centre, wishing once again this existed when he was a kid. He was born quirkless, part of the 1%. Growing up had been horrible. Bullied by his best friend (who eventually apologized and was once again on good terms with), treated horribly by prejudice teachers and neighbours, feeling like a burden to his mother, who didn’t know how to encourage him. He’d even been told by his idol All Might he couldn’t be a hero, the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world. He was surprised to later find out, that same day he met the famed hero and found out his secret, to also find out he’d once been quirkless.

“I had forgotten what it was like to wish for something as simple as someone telling me I could. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the one to tell you that when you needed to hear it.”

All Might – Yagi Toshinori, had offered him his quirk, but in that split second, all Izuku could think of was, ‘what if I can tell someone they can be a hero?’. He’d been quirkless his whole life and it felt like if he said yes, he’d forget where he came from and everything, he faced years later. So he turned down the quirk. When he explained his reasoning, Toshinori smiled.

“Yes, I think we deserve a hero who can prove quirks aren’t everything. Would you still take my offer on helping you get ready for the exams?”

Years later, he’d made it, the first quirkless hero. He still got slander and got yelled at by bigoted people for ‘putting ideas into people’s heads’ but he felt proud of himself. He’d been put into the General Studies class and met Shinsou Hitoshi, a guy with what people considered a villain’s quirk. Together, they proved to everyone that their quirks, or lack thereof, wouldn’t make them unfit heroes. After 3 years with dealing with the League of Villains, internships and general high school drama, he and Hitoshi opened up their agency, with a few of their other class and school mates, Underdog Agency. Name being a tiny bit misleading for those who didn’t know the heroes behind it, but it fit them to a T.

Now whenever he was asked, and he could fit it in between patrols, paperwork and general heroing, he’d go to talks about quirkless kids, charity events, visit schools, anything he could to help lower the stigmatism of quirkless people and to give them a bit of hope. They could be whatever they wanted to be, no matter what anyone said.

This event, was a fundraising event held a community centre geared towards people without quirks. There was a performance stage that was live streamed, mixed in with a silent auction and him, Deku talking with all the kids and visiting people. Just his name alone was bringing in money for the centre. The main gathering area was filled with kids, who’s attention was all on a stage with bright lights all focused on one person.

Split red and white hair, enchanting dual eyes and the grace of season dancer with the voice of an angel. God, he could hear Hitoshi teasing him already.

“I didn’t know Shouto would be here.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant. He didn’t think he sold it but thankfully, the director didn’t know him well enough to guess what he was thinking.

“Well a decent number of our kids unfortunately deal with abusive households or family members. We’ve only just started getting to help these kids so they aren’t forced to be subjected to a quirk heavy view in placing them in new homes or even helping them. Shouto has always been an advocate for helping kids from abusive households, no matter what their quirk or lack thereof. A few kids had written him letters and he apparently rearranged his whole schedule to be here tonight. If you’d like, we’d be more than willing to introduce you to him?”

Introduce him to the guy whose songs have been working as encouragement since his second year after he debuted? It was like a dream come true.

“Sure.”

                                                    _____________

Shouto didn’t like heroes. Well, to be more accurate, he didn’t like top tier heroes. They got away with whatever they wanted and nothing could be changed. It didn’t matter that the small burst of courage that came over his sister to film his father’s ‘training’ and upload it had exposed the Number 2 hero and the corrupt Hero’s Commission, things didn’t change. The Commission might be scrutinized by the public, but he refused to believe they’d actually stick to their promise of being better.

It was easy to lose himself in the world of singing. His mother did it a lot, still did. After his father was gone, finally gone, he felt lost. He could have been a hero; prove he’d be better than his father but the idea of following in his footsteps filled him with so much dread. He didn’t attend school for a whole semester, trying to figure out what to do with his life. They moved closer to the countryside, away from the public eye and he’d been helping out at a local festival, lending his voice to one of the dance performances when the lady came up to him. She was on vacation with her friends but she couldn’t shut off her work brain after hearing him sing.

“An idol?” Fuyumi had asked in confusion, trying to wrap her head around the whole thing. “Shouto?”

“His voice is amazing. He’d be a trainee for a while and if the company thinks he can make it, he’d debut. How far he’ll go would be up to him, fans and the company but he’d learn so many skills as a trainee. Just think about it. You wouldn’t have to go there until next month for the monthly meeting with new recruits.”

And he did think about it. A lot. It had been his mother who eventually helped him decide. Even while still in the hospital in the city, after his father’s arrest he finally convinced himself to see his mother. She still loved him and always would.

“Would you want to sing?” she had asked.

“I guess? I’ve been doing it more often. But if I do this, what if he sees and he tries to come after me?”

“Shouto,” she said calmly. Her, the one who was still hurt from everything she had to endure from the person she called a husband. “He’s never going to come after you. you have a chance to do something you want to do. But it’s up to you. I know it’s been hard to figure out where you want to go from here, but remember, you can make your choice now. So, do you want to sing?”

So he decided to at least become a trainee. Moving back to the city was scary. He had to convince himself that his dad wasn’t going to come swoping in and lock him away. The Commission had been dragging their feet in offering any sort of support, which made him dislike them even more, even in the new era of it. But being a trainee made it easy to forget it. If he worked harder than everyone, it wasn’t because he was forced, it was because he wanted to. His siblings would still drag him away from practise if it was getting to be too much. He learned to dance and found he was good at it. He learned to speak different languages. He learned how to make friends, enemies and everything in between.

So when they said he would debut, he agreed, because right there on the stage, was what felt right to him. That still didn’t mean he liked heroes.

With his advocacy to kids in abusive homes, he met a lot of heroes who’d show up to support or even PR related. Very few of them did he actual end up liking, having to keep a smile on in front of kids, but letting his blank face take hold if the ones he didn’t like tried talking to him privately. When he heard there was a hero coming to this charity event for quirkless kids, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Bring a hero in a room full of kids who didn’t have quirks of their own? That outta be good.

He was focused on signing the books and sheets the kids passed to him that he almost didn’t see the director of the charity wave him over. Standing next to him had to be the hero, judging from his green suit and metal face guard that sat around his neck. He did notice the shoes he was wearing, red high tops. Thing was, he’d seen the same pair of shoes, in different colours, on the feet of the kids. Why would a hero wear a brand of shoes made for quirkless people?

“Shouto, I’d like to introduce you to our hero celebrity for the night, Deku. Deku, our celebrity performer, Shouto.”

“Nice to meet you.” the hero Deku said, bright smile on his face. At least it looked genuine.

“Pleasure.”

“Oh my gosh! It’s the Quirkless Hero Deku!” one of the kids shouted and before they knew it, they were surrounded by kids, most of them trying to hang off the tall hero.

Quirkless Hero? He’d never heard of him, but then again, he tended to ignore heroes in general. But at least the kids wouldn’t feel awkward with a hero flexing their quirk when they had none.

“Shouto, did you see? Deku came!” one of the younger girls said, hanging off his arm. “He’s quirkless just like us. He has a lot of support items and he’s really smart! He was able to create a plan to take down that huge crime ring, did you hear about that?”

He’d been living in a recording studio around then so not really, but he nodded anyway. The kids seemed excited and the guy seemed genuine, so clearly, he must not be that bad. He watched him talk to the kids, a huge smile on his face, answering questions just as quickly as they were thrown at him.

Shouto didn’t like top tier heroes, but it seemed that Deku wasn’t that bad. He hoped he didn’t disappoint.

                                                   _________________

Talking with the kids kept his spirits up when having to talk to adults, some of whom had some annoying backhanded comments to make about quirkless people. It was annoying some were only giving money to make themselves look better but he’d rather put up with comments then have the kids get no support and live with life just as bad as he used to have it. Shame Hitoshi couldn’t come, people tended to forget when they got full of themselves how easy it was for Hitoshi to take control and make them do things. Only minor, he was a hero after all, but then again, who didn’t have a short fuse for annoying people?

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted. It was Shouto. His shirt had been unbuttoned a bit after his performance and his clothes were rumpled from all the kids who’d been hanging off of him. “Do you mind if I steal Deku?”

“Ah. I have to ask; you have such a powerful quirk? Why waste it singing around on stage?” one of the doners, who’d also been giving well disguised scathing comments about quirkless people – Izuku really wanted to punch him, or at least throw him out – asked.

“Maybe because unlike some people, I don’t have to flaunt my quirk to be liked. Excuse us.” Shouto said, before pulling Izuku away. “Asshole.” He muttered, loud enough for Izuku to hear.

“I was pretty close to punching him myself. Downside to doing these events, some of those guys slip through and you have to remind yourself that their money helps make the kids’ lives better.”

Shouto had pulled them to a less populated area of the room and took a seat on the floor. There were seats nearby but the dual haired singer seemed quite at home on the floor, so he sat next to him, keeping a decent distance between them. he had been able to keep his fanboying down – Toshinori would be so proud – and he didn’t want to mess up now.

“I have to admit, I was surprised to hear there was a quirkless hero. When I heard a hero was coming, all I could think was that some oversized ego UA graduate was just gonna flaunt their quirk and make some of these kids feel bad.”

“Well, some heroes have less flashy quirks, would that of been so bad?” he wasn’t insulted that Shouto never heard of him. The agency wasn’t as big as some of the others, Hitoshi worked mostly underground and even though he was good, people still liked to disregard him as a hero due to the lack of his quirk. He didn’t care. He graduated from Class A of UA, made an agency right out of school and worked with bigger heroes on missions they needed his help with. The people who mattered noticed him and he was helping kids like him to believe they could do anything.

“I guess. To be honest, I’m not a fan of heroes. I know with how much that’s being given by some of these people, they’d have to bring in a big hero but also be sensitive to the kids. How have I never heard of you?”

Izuku scratched the back of his head. “I’m 8 on the ranking list? Most of the time they tend to ignore me since I’m quirkless. A lot of people still think I shouldn’t do this without a quirk.”

Shouto looked surprised. “You’re in the top 10 and they think you shouldn’t be doing this? What are they idiots?”

“Well, I was taught by the former Number 1 and I’ve seen the pressure it puts on people, so as long as the people who matter know I’m there to protect them, that’s all that matters.”

Shouto hummed thoughtfully. “Kinda like me and singing, I guess. The guy was right, I do have a pretty powerful quirk but…” he trailed off, like he didn’t know how to word what he said next. “I didn’t want to be a hero. I wanted to be something else. So I decided to sing.”

“I know.” It kinda came out of him without permission, but Izuku was known for just going with it once he started something. “You debuted during my second year. Surprisingly, things got a lot more intense during second year, this coming from a graduate of a class singled out by the League. Your songs gave me a boost to keep pushing forward. So, I wanted to say thank you. I know you didn’t sing to you know, do that, but I’m glad you decided to do it.”

Before Shouto could open his mouth, a group of kids came rushing over, jumping on the two adults.

“Shouto, can we braid your hair? It’s so long! You said we could do it later since you had to perform.”

“Deku, is it true you wanted to look like a bunny?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Izuku asked out loud.

“Because your hood has ears.” The child answered matter-of-factly.

“It’s supposed to be All Might’s hair.” He muttered before deciding to distract them by asking the kids their favourite things to do. The girls who came over had already made quick work ok tying up his hair with a random bag of hairties.

“Fan of All Might?” Shouto asked around the working hands. He seemed completely at ease with his head being moved around every two seconds

“Well, he was quirkless for most of his life. I found that out when I first met him and that’s what helped me decide to really try and be a hero without a quirk.”

“That’s why he’s our favourite!” one of the kids said, making himself quite at home on Izuku’s lap.

“Well I hope I can still inspire you guys to go after your dreams. Just know even if it seems like no one does, I believe in you guys. Always will.”

That statement did lead to all the kids jumping on him in happiness, sending him tumbling back. He saw Shouto smiling down at him, still looking amazing with his messy hair.

                                               _______________

The silent auction was coming to an end and he and Deku had been asked to announce the winners. To keep the kids from distracting them, they waited in a small office not far from the main area.

“So, what does Japan’s first quirkless hero when he’s not advocating for quirkless people?” Shouto asked, shaking his head as he pulled out all the messy braids.

“when I’m not heroing? My best friend Hitoshi takes me to all these cat cafes and I take the chance to try out all the match au late they have. I remember I had this amazing one on I-Island. I’ve been trying to find one just as good since.”

“Well, the ones they have at the café at my company’s building are pretty good. You should come by.” The singer took in the hero’s surprised face. He wasn’t into heroes, but this one was one of the decent ones, even a really good one. “remind me to give you my number later and when you have time, I can show you. plus, their cakes are to die for.”

“Shouto, Deku, we’re ready for you.” the director called before the hero could give an answer.

The singer sent a smile over his shoulder, enjoying how red the hero had become. He did get Deku’s number by the end of the night, plus his name.

Izuku. Hmm, maybe he’d get to call him that more often.

[emachinescat]

The Rich Girl Next Girl (Just Tried to Kill Me)

A Psych Fan-Fiction

By @emachinescat ​

@febuwhump ​ day 7 - poisoning 

Summary: Shawn will never complain about being ‘barely poisoned’ again after he’s ‘fully poisoned’ by a woman he’s investigating - via her poisoned lipstick and an non-consensual kiss.

Characters | Pairings: Shawn, Juliet, Henry, Gus, Lassie | Shawn/Juliet

Words: 3,199

TW: non-consensual kiss

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging! :)

It was the beautiful ones you had to watch out for.  

She was tall and dark haired, with green eyes that twinkled like twin emeralds, and high cheekbones and plump lips colored with the most devastating red Shawn Spencer had ever laid eyes on.  She had squeezed into a tiny black dress with an open back and plunging neckline, with legs that seemed like they would go on forever.  She wore closed-toe, diamond-studded, four-inch heels that perfectly matched the color of her lips.  

Somehow Shawn had managed to charm her into asking him to be her date to a charity gala at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art, and he was very well aware of the many eyes on him as he moved through the crowd with her on his arm.

Well.  It would be more accurate to say that he was on her arm, because she was most definitely in charge, had been from the moment she’d picked him up her limo and she’d already had another, better tux waiting and pressed for him - and had refused to let him in the car until he’d made the switch.

She wasn’t only a total knockout, though - she was also a local celebrity, a socialite, born into enormous wealth but not the heir to the bulk of her late parents’ fortune.  That honor went to her older sister, who had, just a week ago, gotten into a terrible accident on her yacht.  Part of her had been recovered on the deck after the explosion.  The Coast Guard were still looking for the other part in the ocean.  They weren’t optimistic.

So now Aria Thorton, the twenty-seven-year-old millionaire goddess, was Shawn’s date to a high-end charity event, and they were the center of attention.  

Shawn should have been in heaven.

There were three things that dampened the occasion, though - for one, she thought he was a billionaire from two counties over named Chaz Hemsworth (no relation to Chris or Liam, but his rugged good looks and fabulous hair had made many people think he was).  

Then there was the fact that she was the SPBD’s number one suspect in her sister’s supposed-accident-but-Shawn-had-revealed-that-it-was-murder-yet-again case.  Hence, why she thought he was Chaz - he was undercover with the help of the police department, much to the chagrin of Lassie and Jules, because he was the best person for the job.  (Well, he had barged into the case and presented himself as Chaz Hemsworth, and she had been interested, and now he was the best chance they had since he was already on the inside and it was a time-sensitive case - just like he’d planned it).  

Oh, and the third thing was definitely the worst of them all: His actual girlfriend, the aforementioned Jules, was here too, acting as Lassiter’s date and ready to provide backup.  And she was pissed.  

Shawn forced himself to focus on the case, though.  Technically, he’d already solved it, put all the final puzzle pieces together, just half an hour before the gala.  But by that time, she was already at the luxury hotel the SBPD had reluctantly put him in as part of his cover (“Any snacks or room service ordered will be paid for by you, Mr. Spencer, not this department,” Chief Vick had warned with that iconic raised eyebrow of hers.  And no, she wasn’t going to sink funds into a ticket for Mr. Guster - Shawn had thrown himself into this investigation alone, so Gus would just have to sit this one out.  Needless to say, Gus had not been pleased.).  

Now, there were just a few more loose ends to tie, a few more t’s to cross and i’s to dot and little squiggly fancy things to add to capital S’s - namely, he needed to do the reveal.  And since Lassie and Jules would be at the gala anyway, it would be the perfect time to do the reveal (and he’d get to live it up as a male socialite for a few more hours).

He waited until he’d tested all the hors dourves (Why the hell had no one told him caviar was fish eggs and not really fancy boba, and that it did not taste good in even the fanciest of cocktails?), but as soon as the moment was perfect, he called everyone’s attention to him by accidentally-on-purpose smashing his cocktail glass with a knife a la the Princess Diaries, jumped onto the nearest table, and presented his case.

As he revealed the truth of the tragic death of Selena Thornton, and how her sister had taken freaking Skill Share lessons on yacht safety procedures so that she could backwards engineer them to arrange an accident for her sister and swoop up her portion of the inheritance, he noticed something odd - Aria didn’t try to get up, she didn’t argue or yell something like, “That’s ridiculous!” or “You have no proof!” or even “I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you muddling, hunky psychic!”  Instead, she opened her shimmering handbag, calmly applied some sort of thick balm to her lips.  Then she pulled out her lipstick and reapplied it.  Maybe if Shawn hadn’t been so focused on his wrap-up, he would have noticed that the lipstick was the same shade, but that it came from a different tube than when she’d reapplied earlier.  Later, in his hospital bed, he would kick himself for missing that tiny, crucial detail.

He finished by announcing, “And remember, folks - this murder reveal was brought to you by Skill Share.”

And then he was getting off the table, and Jules was preparing the cuffs while Lassie held Aria, and the rest of the rich guests were sitting in stunned silence or otherwise whispering among themselves, already spreading the gossip for the next Tabloid, he was sure.  Then, out of nowhere, the formerly docile homicidal heiress lashed out, slamming the pointed heel of her left shoe - it looked like the heel had been shoved into a pencil sharpener - into the top of Lassie’s foot, buried the elbow of her perfectly tanned right arm into Juliet’s stomach, and broke away from the detectives.

Shawn thought she would turn tail and run, try to escape, but to his shock (and confusion), she lunged straight for him, zooming forward in those ridiculous heels with a speed and grace Shawn couldn’t even achieve with sneakers.  He braced himself for an attack, got ready to defend himself, even as Lassie and Jules recovered and dove for the sabotaging socialite.

They were too late.

What happened next was the literal opposite of what Shawn had anticipated.  She crushed her body into his, grabbed his face the way they do in every rom com ever, and pressed her lips against his in a kind of tender but still somehow aggressive kiss.

For a moment, he stood in shock, trying to process what the hell was happening.  Was she glad he’d caught her?  Did she look forward to being stripped of her wealth and going to prison for life?

Then he realized that as pleasant as her soft lips were against his, he had not authorized this transaction, and even though she was a rich, drop-dead gorgeous socialite, she was also a sister-killer, and his girlfriend whom he loved very much was watching, and he pulled back.  She held on, forcing her lips on his even as he tried to squirm away from her touch.  Her expertly manicured fingernails dug into his skin, and left scratches on the side of his neck when Lassie and Jules dragged her off of him.

Shawn stumbled back, neck stinging where she’d scratched him, lips tingling where she’d kissed him.  He could taste her lipstick - it didn’t taste like cherries like he’d thought.  It didn’t taste good at all.  He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and spun on Aria Thorton, who was now being wrestled into cuffs and passed off to waiting police officers.  “Hey, I know I’m irresistible,” he said, trying to fight off his growing discomfort at the kiss - any other time, he’d probably be thrilled to have a beautiful woman throw herself at him and surprise him with an attack-kiss, “but I’ve got a girlfriend.  And she’s way more hot and bad-ass than a homi-sister like you.”

Jules turned to him and there was a little smile on her face that told him maybe he wasn't as deep in the doghouse as he'd thought.  “Homi-sister?”  

“Yeah,” said Shawn, rubbing absently at his chest.  He needed to change out of this tux.  It was too hot, and it was too tight.  “Sister-murderer.  Like homicide, but for sisters.”

“Sororicide,” Lassiter corrected.  

“I’m sorry, Lassie, when did you take on the role of Scooby Doo?  I can only keep up with one fictional dog at a time, man.”  Beads of sweat popped up on his forehead.  A muscle twitched in his upper arm.

“It’s the actual term for killing one’s sister,” Lassie sneered derisively.

Shawn opened his mouth to retort, but he coughed instead.   And suddenly he couldn't stop coughing, and his chest was being squeezed, and the muscle in his arm jumped again, this time painfully, and he promptly deposited a disgusting mixture of fourteen varieties of hors dourves on Lassiter’s shoes.  A strong hand grabbed his upper arm and kept him semi-upright even as Lassiter groaned, “These are $400 loafers, and they’re rentals!”

“Shawn!”  Juliet’s face had gone white, Shawn noticed through tears and haze as she surged forward and gently lifted his chin with her delicate hand.  

He struggled to answer her, but his chest was so tight, and his left calf muscle contracted then, and all that came out was a strangled cry of pain.

“Call an ambulance - now!”  Lassiter’s voice was far away, though Shawn could have sworn that the head detective was standing right by his side, keeping him from face-planting in his own caviar and cocktail sludge.

Vaguely, over the sound of screams and murmurs and cries of alarm, he heard Juliet’s voice, scarier than he’d ever heard it before - he’d never been so convinced she was about to murder someone before - growl, “What did you do to him?”

He never got the chance to hear if Aria Thornton gave up her dark little secret.  His eyes rolled up into his head, and, muscles twitching and lungs scrambling for air, he passed out.

***

He woke up to pain.

It was a slow process, getting his eyelids to cooperate, but he could feel a soft hand in his, and he would know it anywhere, and someone was crying.

When his vision had cleared enough for him to make out more than just blobs of color, he saw Juliet sitting slumped in a hard plastic chair by his bedside.  Sure enough, it was her hand in his.  But she was fast asleep, her neck crooked back at an awkward angle and small, adorable snores wafting out of her slightly parted lips.  So it wasn’t her who was crying.

His gaze dragged languidly to the right, and everything made sense.  Gus was in the chair next to her, quietly sobbing into his hands.  Poor bastard.  

Shawn spoke, his voice raw and trembling and the effort seemed to squeeze every bit of air out of his already starved lungs.  “G-Gus?”

Gus’s head snapped up, he leaped out of his chair, and in a loud voice reminiscent to an all-black hallelujah choir, he exclaimed, “Shawn!”

Juliet startled awake, her hand instinctively squeezing his, and he saw the worry in her stormy blue eyes as soon as they landed on him.  She smoothed his sweaty hair from his forehead.  “Thank God you’re awake.  How are you feeling?”

Shawn didn’t answer immediately, but let his eyes wander around the room, confirming what he already knew.  He was in a hospital - a private room - and there was a heart monitor beeping above him and an IV lead ran from his hand to a pole, where two different bags were feeding his veins with who knew what.  He took a moment to remember what had happened and shuddered internally when he thought of the kiss of death.  

It took everything he had in him to speak again, but he had to know where he stood, “S-so, more than b-barely poisoned this time?”

Juliet laughed, a short, manic sound of mingled relief and exasperation.  “Yeah, a lot more than barely,” she agreed.

Shawn didn’t get to enjoy his moment of validation, because his left pectoral muscle spasmed, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending bolts of agony through his chest.  It was like the muscle was twisting itself into the most complex pretzel known to man.  An agonized guuuh burst from his mouth and he grasped at his chest, as if trying to tear the pain away.

Gus was panicking now, tears still streaming down his face, and Jules looked stricken.  Shawn was certain he was actively dying now and tried to call for help.  The door to his room burst open and distantly, beneath the mound of pain that had erupted in his muscle, he heard his father’s voice.

“Jules - it looks like it’s his chest.  Massage it.  Remember, small, gentle circles.  Gus, pull it together, you’re just making him panic.”  And then he could feel Jules gently massaging the screaming muscle, and Gus hiccuped into relative silence, and his father was there, seated in a chair on the other side of the bed.  He grabbed Shawn’s hand - the one with the IV - and for a wild moment, Shawn was convinced his father was going to rip it out like he had the last time his son had been poisoned.

But instead, he held on firmly to Shawn’s hand and said, “Squeeze as hard as you need to, pal.  Ride it out.  It’ll be over soon.”

The heart monitor was screeching now, and a nurse ran in just as the spasm was beginning to ebb, leaving the entire muscle feeling weak and squishy like play-doh.  She injected something into one of Shawn’s IV bags and checked his temperature and fed him ice chips and told him to try to rest and be patient, that it wouldn’t be long until the spasms would stop.  She might have told him her name at some point, but he didn’t hear.

Whatever she’d given him made him sleepy, and he felt his twitching, tense muscles relax the tiniest of fractions, and the last thing he saw before falling asleep was his father’s face leaning over him.  He must have been hallucinating, because he could have sworn that his father’s eyes were red and puffy and that there were tear-tracks down his face.

***

The next time Shawn woke up, he was still sore, and his muscles still gave the occasional, defiant twitch, but he wasn’t in blood-curdling agony anymore, so it was a definite improvement.  This time when he woke, no one was crying, and his dad had washed his face, but his eyes were still rimmed with red.

“What happened to me?” Shawn asked, his voice weaker than he could ever remember.  “What the hell was in that lipstick?”

His dad chuckled humorlessly, not because anything was funny but because it wasn’t crying.  “You figured out it was the lipstick, then?”

“I’m psychic, dad, remember?”  Shawn had put the pieces together the first time he’d woken up, but he’d been too out of it to realize he’d made the connection.

Henry didn’t dignify that with a response.

“I can’t believe you went to a millionaire’s gala and almost died, Shawn!” Gus chided irritably.  “If I had been there -”

“You would have hyperventilated and passed out on your plate of hor dourves,” Henry finished dryly, and Shawn couldn’t help but grin.

Juliet was the one who brought the conversation back around to his question.  “She refused to talk, so we took her purse and had her fingernail polish, lip balm, and lipstick tested for toxins,” she informed him.  “We thought that she might have done it when she scratched you, but it was the lipstick that was poisoned.  The lip balm was actually a protective buffer between her lips and the lipstick so that the poison wouldn’t reach her skin.”  With a heavy sigh, Juliet revealed, “It was VX poison.”

“What’s that?” Shawn asked.  “It sounds like something from a spy thriller.”

“It’s a nerve agent,” Gus supplied.  “It can be made into gas, but it’s base form is about the consistency of gasoline.  It’s super fast-acting, especially when inhaled or ingested, even in small amounts like with you, and it causes muscle spasms, respiratory issues, nausea, headaches, fever, and a whole lot of other nasty symptoms.”

“But there’s a cure?”

“Atropine and pralidoxime,” Gus answered promptly, and Shawn resisted the very strong urge to tell his best friend to, for the love of every 80s movie they’d ever loved, get a hobby.  “Both were administered the second the results came back.  It was a close call, but thankfully they were administered on time - though it was touch and go for a bit.  The nurse gave you another dose of a muscle relaxer the first time you woke up.  The other drip is saline.”

“I guess the real question is how the psychotic rich girl next door got ahold of poison like that in the first place,” Shawn muttered, head swimming and eyes burning and body feeling like it had been run over by a monster truck.

Juliet answered promptly: “Lassiter was finally able to crack her.  Turns out she’s also got some contacts in the black market.  She had that tube of lipstick custom-made and infused with VX two years ago in case any of her many boyfriends cheated on her.  Surprisingly, she hadn’t used it until you came along, but when you exposed the truth, it was her way of getting revenge.   She knew there was no way she was going to be able to escape, so she decided to take you down with her.”

“Damn,” said Shawn, faintly.  He was drifting off again, but he was so happy to be alive, to see his friends - even his dad, imagine that! 

“Go back to sleep, Shawn,” Henry ordered.  “It’s going to take a while for you to heal, and you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

Not knowing what had come over him, blaming the poison and trauma for the words that spilled unbidden from his lips, he found himself asking, “And you guys will be here?  Next time I wake up?”  

Gus grinned and leaned over to give Shawn a one-sided fist bump, and Juliet kissed him delicately on the forehead.  His dad ruffled his hair in a manner that could almost be construed as affectionate if he wasn’t careful.

“You bet your ass we will.”

Overall, Shawn reflected as he allowed sleep to claim him, being fully poisoned fully sucked, but it was kind of nice getting a glimpse of just how much his friends and family cared. 

They could find other opportunities to show their love in the future though. Shawn had had enough of poison, barely, fully, or otherwise, for a lifetime. 

[corelliaxdreaming]

Read for Change: The Lightning Thief, Ch. 1

So I'm finally reading Percy Jackson and the Olympians book one as part of @readforchangeproject! I'm going to try and do a post with random thoughts for each chapter/day. Since everyone else read this book fifteen years ago, I'm worried about saying utterly dumb things and being embrassed, but oh well, I want to participate.

This event is in support of Save the Children UK, a charity helping to educate, feed, and provide medicine to children in the UK and around the world. You can donate via the Read for Change JustGiving page here.

As for those actual chapter one thoughts:

~I've looked at these chapter titles before, and I always find them hilarious. However, as an actual reader, I don't like them as much, as to me they give too much away about what's going to happen. Even if they're not 100% accurate, as Percy's vaporization of his pre-algebra teacher here doesn't appear to be entirely accidental. He did attack her/defend himself on purpose, if you ask me.

~There was some eyebrow-raising at the use of terms like "mental case" and "crippled." I've heard very good things about Rick Riordan (apparently we call him "Uncle Rick"?), though, so I'm willing to attribute these to either "it's Percy's views not the author's" or "it was 2005, and the author has since made things right."

~I'm curious to know Mr. Brunner's deal. He seems to know something, having showed up with the pen/sword to help Percy, but then he seems to get brainwashed/memorywiped/whatever along with everyone else at the end. What's up with that whole thing? Also I adored the image of him just hanging out eating celery and reading while his umbrella makes his wheelchair look like a mobile cafe.

~On that note, I like the casual inclusion of phsyical and mental disability here with Mr. Brunner's wheelchair and Percy's dyslexia and ADHD. I seem to recall that sort of thing being tired to the whole demigod deal, but I don't know exactly how, and I hope it doesn't end up feeling icky somehow. Though there is the whole "they tell me this is part of my ADHD, but I'm not sure" that rubs me the wrong way. It feels like those episodes every long-runnin scifi TV show has where the character wakes up in a mental hospital and everyone tries to convince them their entire life was just a delusion. I'd rather have actual mental illness/disability rep than have it be weirdly tired to some mystical stuff and not actually "real."

~"Die, honey!" was fricking hilarious.

[mallowstep]

No I would love to hear more about the human/ modern times version if you want to talk more about it.

yeah sure okay i'm going to be a little annoying and make you work for the details (a) because then i can answer stuff in between School Things and (b) because i did this falling asleep and therefore like. if you ask me a q i will figure out the answer but i don't know a ton about it.

okay so -- i'll cover the fundamental changes but cut bc.

cw: sexual assault, child abuse

so i don't have a Great explanation for how this all works out and why but. stonefur, mistyfoot, stormpaw, and featherpaw are all in the same Household as tigerstar. don't know why. i was sleepy and didn't care.

they stage a death for stonefur attempting to make it look like he killed himself. he lives, but his death is recorded and tigerstar will absolutely track him down to finish it, so he gets a new identity, helps rescue stormpaw, and then gets them to firestar's household. that's where greystripe is.

i don't -- i didn't like. i was falling asleep so this is not Supposed to be realistic. the rest of it is Kind Of but. idk. pretend there's some organized crime stuff. idk.

anyway featherpaw and stormpaw are about nine at this Point in Time. things go Pretty Much as per they did before, altho featherpaw isn't made to fight anyone. they do however still mock her for not fighting back.

also at one point tigerstar chops her hair in a Traumatic Way. that doesn't replace anything it's a new thing.

okay mistyfoot has some kind of. idk. long term birth control. maybe an iud. it takes tigerstar a while to figure out what's going on, and by that point, her cycle is messed up after because she's you know Very Very Stressed and that tends to happen. i think he probably does something with like. fertility treatments. idk. again the point is featherpaw is like. 14 and a handful of months, mistyfoot is pregnant with triplets, and someone finally like. gets them out. cops. idk.

they go to the hospital, it's a traumatic time bc mistyfoot is separated from featherpaw, featherpaw is abt 15 when the triplets are born.

they get named much faster in this au bc birth certificates. featherpaw names all three.

a charity helps mistyfoot and featherpaw with temp housing and makes a go fund me or something, help mistyfoot get custody over featherpaw, etc.

one of stonefur's facebook friends or smthn shares the go fund me, and there's pretty limited personal info (bc like, tigerstar is very much still living), and he reaches out to identify if it is their sisters. there's a really lengthy verification process, and by the time they can get to featherpaw and mistyfoot, about a year has gone by.

and then things just keep going? there's. like i said i'm being annoying and making you work for all of the stuff After That which is when things get wildly off the rails but. yeah!

[oh-so-scenarios]

ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs...♠| 08

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Aɴɢsᴛ, sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ,

A/N: Unedited. This is kind of a filler chapter. Finally entering Phase 2 of this story. Lol yall don’t know what that means, but my goodness did it take a while. Please ignore any typos!

(Word Count: 6.1K)

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Y/N:

He hates me. I know it. I crossed the line. That’s probably what I did. I kissed him on the cheek? I confessed my feelings and probably made him even more uncomfortable? Way to go Y/n! Way to go!

It’s been 7 days since the Charity Gala, and while things were buzzing in the news about the transportation company that was being sued for the “loss” of the real artworks, Hoseok has been ignoring me like the plague. Or so I think.

Jennie and I are at the headquarters as much as we are at the hospital and in each visit, and I haven’t seen Hoseok once. No one said anything about him, or where he might be, so I can only assume I angered him. My heart feels...crushed? I thought there was a warm moment, a real moment somewhere in that night of fake hugs and smiles. 

It must have been the alcohol getting to my head, thinking that something was...beginning. It was silent as Jennie and I cleaned up the operating area, the patient still not woken as he rested in the recovery bed.

This is 3rd surgery Jennie and I have performed for the black market. I seem to be the only uncomfortable, seeing as Jennie hums calmly while stripping the dirty gloves off her hands and slipping off the disposable plastic apron to reveal the dark blue scrubs that I also wore. I copied her motions, slipping my gloves off and throwing the apron into the trash bin. 

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on my hips. After the patient was awake and well enough to leave, we’ll have to come back and clean the area better.

I looked over at Jennie who stared back at me with a knowing look, “Jungkook said he was buying fried chicken for everyone.” She spoke softly, glancing towards the knocked-out patient. I wordlessly walked past her to the sink, washing my hands with soap and drying them off. 

I moved to the side, giving her the space to do the same. Her hair was pulled up into a high bun, and though I nagged her about that being inappropriate for surgery, she looked like a chich college student. 

I stood by the sink waiting for her while she hummed to herself. She’s been very happy lately. It’s because of Jaehyun. He makes her happy, and the love radiating from her was depressing. She cheered me on, telling me that the kiss on the cheek was a brave move. It was a great move! I was being assertive! 

But why do I feel like shit? Not a single text, not a call or even an order passed down to Jungkook. Hoseok is missing in action, and no one wants to admit it. If he didn’t hate me before, he hates me now.

We walked out of the room and out the lobby area, finding a chaotic scene. Six men seated around the large round table, fussing and bickering with boxes of fried chicken sat between them. I snickered at the scene, watching Jin stood from his seat to yell at Taehyung.

“You said you didn’t like Lemon pepper! Why are they over on your side!” His voice echoed through the place, while his eyes widen. He shook his head vigorously and his face turned a bright red. Giggles emerged in the room as Taehyung pushed the basket of chicken across the table.

I quietly walked up to a seat beside Namjoon who showed me a kind smile. 

“Done with the surgery already?” Jimin chimes. I nod, glancing over the different types of chicken. Jennie sits about 3 seats away from me, digging into the food right away. Namjoon pushes a basket of some wings, silently offering it to me.

 “Is Hoseok avoiding me?” I asked softly, I was hoping they wouldn’t hear me. That the loud smacking of lips as they ate would drown out my words, but everyone stopped to look at me. Yoongi’s brows furrowed and he looked towards the others as if they had the answer. 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked from beside me. I sighed, leaning forward, looking over the wings once more. 

“I haven’t seen him since the gala, and he’s not ordering me around like he usually does…” I trail off as I realize I sound like a whining child.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at me, chewing the last of the food in his mouth before speaking.

“Boss traveled Y/n, I thought you knew,” Jungkook said a matter of a fact. My mouth made a small O shape, embarrassment consuming my whole body.

“He traveled?” I questioned, looking to Jin who was nodding slowly.

“He left 2 days after the gala, he has some business in Japan. I told him to tell you, but I guess he didn’t.” Jungkook adds with his eyes focused on the wing in his hands. His gaze flickered up to me knowingly. 

Jungkook hasn’t asked me what we were arguing about at the gala when he interrupted, the ride home is silent, while I sniffled and wiped my tears. I can’t be certain why I was crying. Maybe it was because he thought so little of my feelings? Or he found it so hard to believe that someone could like him?

“Why would Boss avoid you?” Namjoon asked, before pointing at the wings he set in front of me. It was silent order to start eating or he was going to take them for himself. 

I reached forward and grabbed one wing, twisting it around with my fingers. I can’t be sure what the flavor is, but that didn’t matter right now. The room grew quiet, some chewing and shuffling containers being all that’s heard. 

I sighed, “I kissed him--” 

“You kissed boss?!” Jungkook exclaims in...excitement? 

“--On the cheek!” I add quickly, not wanting him to jump to conclusions. 

“Wow noona” Jungkook said with his wide eyes gleaming, “and what did he do?

I shrugged, “Nothing. He didn’t say or do anything.” I took a bite of the wing, looking up to see all the guys at the table smiling slightly.

“So what were you so worried about?” Taehyung voices as he reaches for a napkin to clean his mouth. 

“I thought I crossed the line? I didn’t want to anger him or come on too strong.” I was hesitant to say anymore. I only really talk to Jungkook. This is the first time I’m really having a conversation with anyone. Other than Yoongi of course. I didn’t feel uncomfortable though. 

The older guys, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi, weren’t strangers; but they certainly weren’t close friends. They work the closest with Hoseok, so I don't see them as often as I do Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. They do the more of the details for Hoseok. They aren’t as eager to share as the younger guys.

“Hoseok will only protest never encourage.” When Seokjin says it like he’s solved the case, my brows furrow. I’m not following. 

After meeting my unclear facial expression, he sighed and leaned back in his seat. 

“He didn’t say anything, so he didn’t hate it. If he didn’t like it, he’d let you know for sure.”

“That’s just how Hoseok is.” Yoongi adds simply, “And if you are so curious to what he’s up to, just call him.”

“Call him?” 

“Duh. If you’re bothering him, he won’t even pick up. You’ve already gone ahead to do something bold like kissing him, you can’t get bashful now.” Yoongi starts to work on another wing, taking a big bite before reaching for the open water bottle on the table. He pushes his hair back, despite the thick headband that was already feeding that purpose. 

Jennie hadn’t spoken this whole time, too busy stuffing her face with wings. I kept eating while she wiped her mouth with her arm, my eyes widening at the uncharacteristic behavior. Jaehyun is rubbing off on her and that’s clear. Jennie used to be ...stiff. A bit stuck up but not enough to come off as a bitch. 

She had high standards and expected only the finer things, yet she would also go with the flow of things, not wanting on the chance to experience something she could later brag about. Since meeting Jaehyun, she has loosened up in terms of the proper chip that was on her shoulder.

“I say,” She takes a sip of water, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her water to take. 

She repeats herself, “I say you keep on with what you’re doing. Be forward. You have to be with a laid back guy like Hoseok. Call him, holding his hand, kiss his cheek and all that. If he says he doesn’t like it, stop.”

Taehyung claps his hands together, “We won’t say anything about it and act oblivious! Just do what feels right and we’ll act like it’s nothing new!” 

Taehyung pumps his fight up into the air, the whole action being something you’d expect if he was drunk.

“Operation ‘help Boss understand Y/n’s feelings’ is a go!” 

“He understands,” I mumble, “I told him that I liked that despite his lifestyle.” 

Taehyung shook his head, “No Y/n...we need him to understand!” He deepened his voice on the word ‘understand’.

“Hyung is very smart, but he’s also...dense when it comes to things like this. For him to understand, he needs to see actions. Once he feels like he’s got a handle on the situation, he’ll possibly respond or make a move.”

 I chuckled, “You really know Hoseok really well.”

Taehyung kisses his teeth, “I’ve been studying the mystery that is Jung Hoseok for 8 years now.”

 ~!~

It sounded so easy when the others were talking about it. Call him. Don’t text him, but call him. But now that I am lying on my bed, the butterflies in my stomach were overwhelming. I look at the clock on my wall to see that it’s nearing 10pm, I’m sure he’s awake. 

I grabbed my phone, scrolling and finding his contract. I pressed his name and watched the screen change as the number dialed. I placed the phone on speaker, staring up at the ceiling while I waited, hoping to hear his voice.

A few more rings later, and it went to voicemail. I sighed, hanging up before it could start recording. Of course, he’s busy. According to Namjoon, Hoseok is going for his actual investment work. One day I’ll get Hoseok to tell me more about his investment company. It’s thriving and doing well. 

I turned onto my side, sleep suddenly growing heavy on my eyes. It’s been a long day and I was finally feeling the tiring work of the day while my body relaxed and went slack against my bed and pillow. 

I don’t remember how long my eyes were closed before I felt a buzzing vibrating the bed. My eyes fluttered open, and though my vision was blurry, I could make out the caller ID. 

I grabbed my phone quickly, swiping to answer and hitting the speaker button. I set it down on my bed, staring at the black screen while soft breathing sounded through the iPhone speaker.

“Doc.” He said quietly. He sounded bored, with no sense of urgency or sleepiness. I looked at the clock again. It is 11:34pm. 

“Hi.” I croaked, eyes widen at my own voice. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could.

“I woke you up.” He said, almost sounding sorry. 

I shook my head slowly as if he could see me lying there in my bed, with my hair a mess and my baggy T-shirt and shorts. 

“I don’t mind. I don’t work tomorrow.” I answered. There a beat of silence, and I can hear cars zooming in the background.

“You called me?” He sounded annoyed, not because I called, but the fact that I wasn’t speaking. 

“Yeah,” I replied softly, “I didn’t realize you traveled.”

“I guess I didn’t tell you, it was sort of last minute. I had to handle some business.” He replied. 

“Oh, I see.” I pause for a moment, “I hope I’m not bothering you when you’re busy.” I rush out that last bit, my nerves getting to me. 

“No, you’re not.” 

“Ok, cool. Umm...how much longer are you staying in Japan?” My desperate attempts at preventing an awkward silence.

“Why?” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Do you miss me?” He chuckles soon after, showing that he was teasing. I bit on my bottom lip nervously as he laughed. I gripped my bedsheets in on hand and closed my eyes, thinking of how I should be bold. Without opening my eyes I spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I miss you a lot.” Hearing the words leave my lips caused my skin to tingle. My eyes remain closed while I listen to Hoseok on the other line. His laughter dies down and I heard a slight shuffle. He doesn’t speak for a short time, leaving me in my dread and fear.  

“I’ll be back in 4 days,” His teasing tone was no more, he spoke simply and plainly. My shoulders drop in relief. He’s ignoring my statement, which I regret even saying so him ignoring it is for the best. I heard more shuffling and what sounded like a car door closing.

My eyes stay closed as I speak again.

“Good,” My voice is light, sleepiness taking hold of me again. I yawned lightly, and we sit in silence for a little while.

“Go to bed, Y/n.” Sounding like he was ordering a child. But I was too tired to say something smart. 

“Good night Hoseok, sorry for bothering you,” I muttered. 

He takes in a deep breath, sounding like he made up his mind on something, “Y/n?”

I hum in reply, irritation rising as he was keeping me from falling asleep.

“Whenever you start missing me, just call me.” He said the words casually, but he spoke quietly this time. My eyes snapped open in surprise. He cleared his throat, showing discomfort with his own words. He’s nervous?  I looked at my phone in time to see the screen flash to black as he hung up the phone without a goodbye. 

What...did...he--

He said to call him whenever I start missing him? I laid there with my eyes wide and my mind empty. My heart racing to the point of my vision vibrating as I stared blankly at the wall opposite of me.

The conversation was short, awkward and almost forced but...it wasn’t awful. I would like to think that he enjoyed our conversation. He also didn’t say anything about the kiss or the gala. But it was nice to have a small normal chat. 

Whenever you start missing me, just call me. 

My lips turned up into a shy smile, “He’s too cute.” I say to no one in particular.

To say, nothing had changed...wrong. But to say things had changed would also be wrong. Hoseok hasn’t brought up the gala, the kiss or even the investigation being conducted on the small delivering company that is being accused of swapping the real art with fake art.

Hoseok wasn’t really attempting to make conversation, but he wouldn’t suggest hanging up whenever we sat in silence. He comes back from Japan tomorrow, but I’ve called him 2 more times in the past 3 days. Usually later at night, when he is on his way back to the hotel. Calling him the second time was harder than calling the first time. 

Whenever you start missing me, just call me. What was that? Where did that come from? He doesn’t make mention of it again, and neither do I. But it feels like his words loomed over us with every conversation we had. Like he wanted to say something about it but was waiting for me to bring it up. 

I stared up at the ceiling as I heard the shuffling of bedsheets and blankets. Unlike the other times I called, Hoseok was actually in his hotel bed this time. Since our conversations were barely conversations. I’d ask him how his day was, I’d get a one-word answer followed by me desperately trying to keep the flow of things going. I wanted to try and dig deeper. If he doesn’t want to tell me. He won’t. 

“Hoseok?” My voice sounds quiet and lacks confidence. When he replies he sounds distracted and I can faintly hear his fingers tapping away at his phone screen.

“Yeah?” He sounds distracted.

“So you took over for your father when you were 16?” I asked timidly, a slight tremble in my voice. I heard another shuffle, with a small sigh following after.

“Yeah,” He answered, “No big deal.” 

He was trying to brush it off, but I wasn’t going to move on that quickly.

“It must have been scary...dealing with the death of your father, but also being ushered into such a big role.”

“I don’t want your pity.” He hissed. My heart dropped a bit, feeling the peaceful chat turning dour. 

“I’m not pitying you, I just imagine it must have been hard.”

“I managed, I had the guys to help me out. I did what was expected of me and I turned out fine.” 

I opened my mouth to reply but he kept speaking, so I sat and listened.

“My dad was sick, and I knew what was coming so I was ready for it. I prepared and was able to move forward.” 

“How do you prepare for something like that? Taking such a big role I mean.”

He groans, “I don’t know. I just stopped hanging out with friends, I stopped my hobbies and things like that. My relationship with the guys also changed. It was...rough.”

My eyes perked up, “You knew the guys before?” 

Hoseok lets out a humorless chuckle, a bitterness underlying the action. 

“They were my best friends before I became their boss.” He sounded sad, and I felt sad as well. There was a longing in his voice. How much as his relationship with the boys changed? They seem...close, right? I wouldn’t exactly call their relationship the typical friendship, but I wouldn’t say it’s lacking. 

Before I respond, ready to reassure Hoseok, a thought enters my mind. I don’t know what their friendship was before, and how or why did the guys agree to do such work for Hoseok? Were they already aware of Hoseok’s father and the lifestyle he had? 

“They’re still your best friends now.” I inject, wondering why he was speaking in the past tense. 

He scoffs, “Nah, I wouldn’t agree.”

“Why?” 

“They just work for me at this point, I doubt they like me anymore.” The statement sounded so insecure. My brows furrowed and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The flashbacks to Taehyung’s cheeky smile as he spoke about Hoseok were battling the words I just heard.

“What?” I shake my head, “What would make you think that? Has the boss, employee overshadowed the friendship? Is that what you think?” 

He doesn’t respond, leaving me with his calm breathing as a sign of his distress.

“I don’t think it’s that way at all Hoseok! If you feel that way, I think you should talk to them about it.” 

When he still refuses to speak, my heart grows heavier. Does he go around just thinking everyone holds some sort of animosity, does he? The conversation at the gala makes sense, and a light bulb flickers on above my head.

Do you really like me? 

“Why are you so keen on having everyone detest you?” My tone comes out a bit rougher than I intended, but it doesn’t seem like he noticed.

“My line of work doesn’t really let me be a people person.”

“But that’s work, isn’t it? There’s a time where you gotta shut the work mindset off...right?”

Another beat of silence, my own breathing sounding louder than Hoseok’s. Another shuffle from his end and a grunt. I’m guessing he was changing his position on the bed. 

“Go to sleep, doc. You’ll see me tomorrow.” That’s all he said and the line disconnected. He hung up. 

Once again I’m left lying in my bed with my thumping heart and my thoughts. What a ball of secrets Jung Hoseok is. Just what is going on in that head and heart of his?

~!~

“We did the best we could,” I said to Jennie as we walked down the hospital hallway. We trailed behind Dr. Lee who was looking down at his clipboard. Our heels click against the tile floor, as we zoom towards room 323. We were on our way to check on a patient who just woke from a surgery we performed the day before. 

We already knew this was going to be a rough one. A terrible car accident has left a couple in a sad state. The wife, an older woman in her early 50’s had damage to her legs, leaving her partially paralyzed. Only temporarily. With proper physical therapy, Ms. Cho will be able to walk again.

As for Mr. Cho, he is stuck in a sleep-like-state. A coma, one could say, however it is believed that he can hear his surroundings. Though we did surgery to stop the internal bleeding, the seriousness of his injuries can’t be known until he awake. 

I glanced at my outfit, the yellow dress seeming too bright for the depressing atmosphere we were going to enter. However, the yellow dress was significant to my mood. The happy butterflies floating around my stomach were clouding my focus. 

It was a dress Jennie gifted me a few months back, and it sat in my closet collecting dust. The dress stopped right at my knees, it’s shaping being form-fitting with being skin tight. The hem of the skirt ruffled out, giving it a spring vibe. The whole dress was covered in white polka dots, less than you would regularly see for the pattern. The v neck wasn’t deep enough to be inappropriate, and the sort sleeves also had the same ruffle as the skirt hem. My white heels complimented the whole look.

When I strolled into work today, Jennie was sipping her coffee, only to have her eyes widen as she choked. 

“Wow,” She breathed, “You look hot!” I cringed, gesturing my hands for her to bring her voice down. She was being too loud. A few nurses turned their eyes, raising their eyebrows. 

“Mr. Jung must be returning today,” one of the nurses at the help desk muttered loudly, “I heard he hasn’t been at any board meetings because he traveled.” I turned my head towards the voice to meet a teasing set of eyes. 

I stared at her and she shrugged, “Am I wrong?” She giggled looking me up and down. The other nurses giggled along with her. 

“It is that obvious?” I whispered to Jennie. She took another sip from her Starbucks cup before she gave me a thorough once over. She takes a look at my outfit, a cheesy smile pulling at her lips while her eyes moved up to my face.

“Oh hell yeah.” She chimes. I grunt, covering my face with both hands.

“He’s going to think I’m such a try-hard.” I groaned then adjusted my white doctor’s coat to try to cover the dress more.

Jennie bites her lip, the red lipstick that painted them not smudging one bit. She brought her coffee cup up to her lips as if to take a sip. She raised her shoulders and turned her body to the side as if she was hiding something from me with her body.

“Y/n, I’d be more worried that you’d make him hard.” She whispers just loud enough for me to hear. My face heats up and a coy expression grazes my face.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so!” She exclaimed, winking at me.

We stood there waiting for Mr. Lee to arrive. He told us to meet him here at noon, and it’s already 12:23. The longer we stood there talking, the more I noticed glances my way from patients and fellow workers. 

“Is the dress inappropriate for work?” My face scrunches up and my insecure questions slip from my lips.

“No, not at all. You’re just giving off different vibes than usual. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you look good.” 

Before I could reply, Jennie spoke again, “You talked to him on the phone yesterday?” 

“Yup,” I said popping the p, “The conversation gets...better. It was very weird at first but it’s smoother now. You can tell he doesn’t usually do that kind of thing.” 

Jennie nodded in an approving manner, “That’s sweet.” She smiled and took another long sip of her coffee from tossing the empty cup into the nearby trash can. She turned back around just as Dr. Lee rounded the corner. 

“Took him long enough,” Jennie said under her breath. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, giving me a better look of her outfit. She wore a simple black turtleneck, the fabric looking too thin to protect from any cold, and a sage green skirt that was shorter than my dress with black heels. Her red lipstick popped and her slicked-back ponytail with the side part made her look so slick.

Jennie takes more risks with her outfits than I do. She dances right on the line of a provocative and voguish. No wonder this amazing dress I’m wearing is something she bought me. My hair was down today, Jennie telling me that pulled the outfit together more.

“Sorry for being late ladies. I-” Dr. Lee’s voice catches in his throat as he looked up from his clipboard. He gawked at me, blinking his eyes repeatedly and racking his eyes down my body. He snaps out of his trance not a second later, looking back to my face and shamelessly smiling at me.

“Dr. L/n, you are...breath-taking.” He said honestly. 

I roll my eyes, “Thank you, Dr. Lee.” 

“Let me take you out to dinner.” 

I falsely give it some thought, “Mh, sure! I’ll be sure to bring Mr. Jung along.” 

His smile drops at the mention of Hoseok, but the flirty nature in his eyes doesn’t change.

“Well, I’ll always be here.” He said with a wink, looking down at his clipboard again.

“And that’s unfortunate.” Jennie jeered back.

And that’s how we ended up where we are now, marching down the hallway to deliver not so good news to an older lady. By the time we reached the door of room 323, yelling could be heard. A thin and harsh voice was shouting while the calm voice of a nurse battled on.

Dr. Lee opened the door and all the noise stopped.

“Ms. Cho.” Dr. Lee said as he stepped in and we followed.

“Where is my husband?!” She shouts. 

Dr. Lee sighs, “Please Ms. Cho, give us some time to help you understand what is going on.” 

After she yells on for a few more minutes, Dr. Lee manages to calm her down. Her chest rises and falls intensely as lays back in her hospital bed. Her brows were furrowed and she glowered at us. Her gaze shifted between the 3 of us. Dr. Lee is going to do most of the talking, and we were just here to give the details of the surgery and the results.

Jennie and I took some time to explain to Ms. Cho the results of her surgery along with the condition of her legs. We had to pause for a moment as she cried. I made sure to give her a tissue and tried my best to comfort her. After we finished updating her on her condition, came the hard news of her husband.

There is no easy way to break news like that. And it’s always hard to see how people handle news like this. One of the nurses rubbed her back as she sobbed. Her black hair falling into her face.

We were in there for quite some time, setting up her physical therapy appointments. Jennie was discussing with Dr. Lee while I spoke to the nurse regarding the changes to Ms. Cho’s care.

“Young lady,” Ms. Cho suddenly says to me, sniffling in the process. I look over at her, showing a small smile.

“I know you have many patients to take care of, and you probably hear this a lot. But...my husband is my everything. Please do whatever you can to save him. Money isn’t an issue.” It’s hard to believe this soft-spoken woman was the same angry voice shouting earlier.

Her bloodshot eyes were tired and sad, but in general, she looked young for her age. Her skin lacked wrinkles or any significant sign of aging. 

I smiled at her, “Of course Ms. Cho, we will do our best.”

A small smile pulls at the corner of her lips and I watch her eyes move to my white coat, “Dr. L/n?” She reads my name.

I smile, “Yup, that’s me. Y/n L/n.” 

“A lovely name for a lovely girl.” She says softly. 

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I must say you’re also very beautiful.” 

She laughs slightly, having it fade off into a sigh, “My beauty is all I have at this point.” 

She throws a gentle punch at her legs, “These things are useless.” She mutters. 

“Ms. Cho, you won’t be in a wheelchair forever, we can promise you that,” I assured her.

She looks towards Dr. Lee and back at me, “Is that guy any good? His rehearsed smile and strong cologne are throwing me off.” 

I cough to hide my laughter while the nurse closes to me giggles with her hand covering her mouth.

“Dr. Lee is one of the finest doctors I know, he won’t lead you astray. His smile may be a practice, but if there’s one thing that is genuine, it’s his love for helping others.” She nods like my words put her doubts to rest.

“Thank you Dr. L/n, and I apologize for yelling at you earlier. That isn’t like me.” She looks down shyly, clearly embarrassed by her previous behavior.

“Don’t worry about it Mrs. Cho, I would have reacted the same way. You just went through a very disorienting series of events. I wouldn’t expect you to be poised.”

She smiles but soon gasps as if forgetting something. 

“And the other driver? How is he?”

While I explained the conditions of the other driver, who also had serious injuries, Jennie and Dr. Lee came back from the corner of the room they were standing in.

“Mrs. Cho, you’ll be staying with us here at Seoul Sky Hospital for some time and we’re happy to have you. We will do whatever we can to give you a steady recovery; we will also work to look after your husband.” She nods, showing a strained smile. After a few more words, we start to shuffle out of the room. I am the last to leave, giving her a small smile.

~!~

I’m sitting in the passenger's seat of the car while Jennie sits in the back with her arms stretched up across the seat. Her back leans against the door while her eyes are closed. Jungkook is driving yelling at Jin who is on speakerphone.

“Boss agreed to buy dinner, and you wanna eat chicken...again? Let’s get noodles!” Jungkook whines. I giggled as he pouts.

“Yah! He said we could order whatever! I’ll order chicken and you order noodles!”

“Why do we have to order from too different places?” Jungkook replies. 

“Just figure something out!” Someone barks in the background. It sounds like Yoongi. I can just picture Hoseok sitting among the chaos.

I laughed at their banter, but it came out a bit chopped. My nerves were getting to me. I was quiet most of the ride, but just like everyone said, be bold. Do whatever feels right. What’s the worst that could happen? He could reject me? Embarrass me in front of all the guys, and make the atmosphere?

Yikes! I just cringed at the thought. 

I shut the car door and followed behind Jungkook and Jennie as he did the regular door unlocking as well as the double doors.  Everyone was in the “lobby” area. Jimin and Taehyung stood around Yoongi who sat at the circular table. They were clearly annoyed him, as he sat there with a blank face as they poked at him. 

Jin sat a few sat away from Yoongi and had a smaller MacBook opened. 

Namjoon stood in front of the chalkboard, writing and a few things, and beside him was Hoseok. My heart hammered a bit. I could see most of his back, and a bit of his side profile. He on the circular table, some papers in his hands. He was looking between the papers in his hand and the words that Namjoon was writing.

He wore an oversized red t-shirt, and grey joggers with black sneakers. He wore one of those fancy Rolex watches on his risk and his hair was a bit messy.

There’s that same old focused face of his. 

Jungkook left my side, heading towards Jin who I guess was ordering food. Jennie gave me a knowing smile and nodded towards Hoseok. I walked further into the room, feeling self-conscious as I caught the guys' attention. I no longer had my white doctor’s coat to hide in.

One of the guys' whistle and I ducked my head down shyly. Namjoon turns around at the sound but Hoseok doesn’t seem to care. 

“Hi everyone,” I said shyly as I got closer.

Everyone says their hellos, well everyone but Hoseok. Namjoon smiled at me, his gaze flickering to Hoseok quickly. Namjoon turned back to the blackboard and continued with what he was writing.

Jennie also went about greeting everyone, saying her hellos before taking a seat at the table. She leans back and grins while crossing her arms. I act oblivious to the fact that everyone was secretly waiting for me to approach Hoseok. I walk around the table, ending up on his right side. 

“Hey,” I said softly. 

“Hey,” Hoseok replies pausing for a beat before looking at me. I don’t miss the way his eyelashes flutter and his eyes flickered down my body quickly. 

“How was your flight?” I asked just as his eyes met mine again. His eyes were narrowed  

“It was good.” Since he was seated on the table, his line of sight was my face, making us the same height at that moment. He refocuses on what Namjoon is writing. 

There’s that warmth I always feel when he’s around. His presence is so...comforting.

I stare at his profile for a second more and just...do what feels right. 

I take hold of his bicep while leaning forward and I did the same thing I did at the gala. I kissed him on the cheek. I pulled back, my face still close. He looks at me, eyes wide. I smile in response, almost wanting to laugh at the deer in the headlights expression that was on his face. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” I spoke softly. His eyes, no longer wide, scanned over my face. His eyes narrowed and he looked at me...wantingly? My eyes widen in response. Whoa. I drew back completely, taking my hand off his bicep and noticing just how the atmosphere in the room changed.

I faced the board, flustered by Hoseok’s gaze on me. 

“S-so what are you writing, Namjoon?” I asked quickly and my heart fluttered, wondering if Hoseok’s eyes were still on me. And they were. I could feel his eyes on the profile of my face. I drew in a deep breath, trying to seem interested in what Namjoon was telling me.

Something about someone going around Korea saying they are ‘Seok’ the mafia head and creating trouble. Someone is basically pretending to be Hoseok. 

I nodded understandingly. 

“Boss is looking hungry,” Taehyung sang playfully as he walked around the table.

Jennie snickers and to no one, in particular, says, “But not for food.”

I turn to look at Hoseok just in time to see his gaze move from me to the paper in his hand. He scoffs, in a light manner this time, and a small smile stays on his lips as he goes back to reading the document. Chuckles sound through the room at Jennie’s remark. Hoseok doesn’t say anything, focusing on the work at hand.

But the red color of his ears said it all. 

“Cute.” I cooed to myself, and Hoseok heard, his red ears getting even brighter. 

Hoseok,  I’m gonna break those walls down Brick by brick.

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Thank you for reading! Like, reblog and let me know what you think :)) I also have a question for you, how do you view “Y/n” in terms of personality and character? Also any predictions? 

[autumncls]

-(Jessica Henwick, Ciswoman, 28) did you see that person over there? that’s CHO CHANG. they’re a HALF-BLOOD and work as a HEALER at ST. MUNGO’S. honestly, they’re A BIT OF A DOORMAT. i can tolerate them though as they can also be LOYAL. they remind me of the warmth of a soup eaten on a sick day and dark circles under the eyes. anyway, i heard they’re POLITICALLY APATHETIC. watch your back around them.

TW: Mention of Dead Body, Grief, Mention of Therapy

Past

Cho felt the war before it even happened, knew it was coming while everyone else closed their eyes to it. Its effects have not left her since the moment Harry brought back Cedric’s cold dead body. She mourned and mourned and fell into grief. Grief left unresolved and added to as the war swept through her and the people around her. As she watched the people closest to her lose and die.

She tried to move on from the war. She attended the memorials and the wakes and then went home telling herself that she was okay. But found herself crying. The first few months were the hardest. She cried a lot and could not even take time off from her work because St. Mungo’s was running at full capacity and she was not the only one hurting. So she bottled her unresolved grief up.

The only solace during this period was the presence of her mother, a Muggle woman who could never fully comprehend the ugliness of a Wizarding war as she is so removed from it after her divorce from Cho’s father.

Cho was urged to go to therapy, Muggle therapy. It worked, sort of. Even though she had to alter details of her story, of what actually happened, she found solace in confiding in someone, in taking medications. She’s getting better. She keeps a journal now where she writes her dreams and nightmares and all the good things that have happened to her thus far. Recently, she added three words to the journal, under the “Good Things” section: “Survived the war.” For now, surviving is enough.

In the aftermath of it all, she threw herself into work and research. Particularly into research into the long term effects of magical injuries and wounds. She’s published several papers in international Wizarding journals. The papers were and still are well-received.

She also started to champion Wizarding psychology and therapy and advocated for it to be added to St. Mungo’s long list of services.

Present

Cho is tired of healing. She likes healing itself, likes the methodology and the research. But the bureaucracy of the hospital is something she has never liked and refuses to take part in. She hates that to get funding she has to present to a bunch of donors who don’t even care about what she is pitching them. The paperworks are also tiring.

Cho is in a good place in her personal life though. She loves her friends and she sees her mum twice a week and gets dinner with her dad once a week.

She’s thinking of making her own charity which will help provide Wixen with mental health resources. The kind of charity or organization that she needed for herself back then.

Wanted Connection

Friends She’d Run Through An Airport For.

Fake Friends.

Flings.

Lover.

(Another) The One.

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 29 - A Love Just as Sweet

“You’re sure you don’t need me to come help? No furniture you need to move?”

“I think you’re just looking for an excuse to ditch work, Ardbert.”

“You’re half right. I’m also looking for an excuse to come see my godchild as well.”

“Your godchild is at home with the babysitter, waiting for me to return from the grocery store.” You can’t help but giggle into the phone at Ardbert’s dramatic groan as you pick up a few rolanberries to put in your shopping cart. “You know you’re more than free to visit, Ardbert.” you grin, even if he cannot see it.

“I know, I know. But it’s hard work now being in charge of an entire luxury chauffeur service now that Varis is gone! I may be the boss, but I have employees to manage. Paychecks to write. Won’t you have pity on your poor friend? Won’t you pay for my ticket to Eorzea?” Ardbert bemoans, and already you can envision his melodramatic flare, unable to stop yourself from snorting at his antics.

“Maybe in a few years I’ll be ready to come back to Kugane.” you murmur softly, rolling an apple around in your hand.

“Always at your own pace, Honey.” Ardbert adds warmly, and it’s times like these you do miss your closest friend. “Even if you feel you can never return, I’ll never fault you for it. I’ll always do my best to come see you.”

You prepare to say something back when your phone beeps in your ear. Pulling it from your face, you see you have an incoming call. “Hey Ardbert, I’ll call back later. I’ve got an important call coming in.”

“No problem, talk to you later, Honey.”

Tapping on the screen, you transfer the call over, bringing your phone to your ear again as you continue to amble around the grocery store. “And what do you want?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?” Cid scoffs, just as, if not more dramatic than Ardbert.

“It’s a way to greet this friend.” You laugh, nabbing some chips off the shelf. You were getting pretty low on snacks.

“I called to check in on you and also deliver some news. Are you busy?”

“I’m a full time mother, Cid. When am I not busy?” you joke, making your way to the meat department. “After all, my days are filled with diaper changes and games of peekaboo. Exciting stuff.”

“Boring, but peaceful.” Cid supplies, giving out his sage wisdom as usual. “But on a more serious note, is all well?”

Was all well?

It had been a year since your coming to Eorzea, landing yourself a fairly decent sized house in the Gridanian countryside. While off the grid, you were still afforded modern amenities, such as high speed internet and cable TV. Every so often you would have to work your way into the city to run a few errands, just like you are today. You would usually call up one of your trusted neighbors to come over and babysit to put some spare change in their pocket.

You had woken up in the hospital alone, feeling as if you had been hit by a truck while getting ran over by a train, and somehow managed to live. Merlwyb and Cid were the first to barge in your room at news you had woken from your sleep, having feared you would fall into a coma from the damage to your body, or even the damage to your mind.

There was hardly a day that either of them wasn’t at your side, working in shifts almost until Ardbert had even managed to convince them to squeeze in on the rotation. Ardbert’s presence helped break down the walls you had immediately put up upon waking, spending an entire night sobbing into his arms, finally allowing yourself to mourn everything you had lost.

With his help did you get yourself to therapy, Ardbert there with you every step of the way on the road to recovery.

When you reached a point where you felt stable enough to confront all that had happened, you had asked the three of them to tell you what had been going on since that day.

Cid and Merlwyb were quick to hold off the local news of misconstruing facts, Cid telling them to wait until he could get back to his home and compile all the evidence the public needed. The entire city was in an uproar, Varis’ most loyal followers spewing hate and lies to try and convince the public that everything was a ruse and that Cid was the one to cause the explosion at the research facility.

There seemed to be no hope in sight until an unsuspecting witness came to the front.

Gaius of all people had given his testimony, exposing every bit of collusion and dirty deals Varis had a hand in, debunking every lie that Varis had ever spewed, every promise he had intended to break. He had offered himself up for arrest for taking part in Varis’ crimes, even if he had been manipulated into thinking it was for the better of Kugane.

But with Varis gone, and his heir missing, what would happen to Galvus industries?

Cid would receive everything from the corporation, from shares to assets to the building itself. Cid, being the philanthropist he is, decided there was no use of him having so much extra wealth on top of what he already had, and decided to spend the rest of his days giving the money to charities and actually improving the city he now called home.

Said city of course let Lord Hien serve another term. Lord Hien, being an honest man, did not hide his taking part of your operation to stop Varis. With full transparency he informed the public of why he made the decisions he did, assuring them he had not taken out Varis for power, but had kept a tyrant from taking over their country.

When you ask what had become of Elidibus, everyone only stares at you in confusion. You try to describe him to the best of your ability, but all it seems to do is make people more concerned for your mental health by trying to make them remember someone who never existed. Hoping you had not gone off the deep end, it is only when you try to search for him on the internet do you realize his entire existence has been erased.

No notes of him being prime minister of Garlemald, no notes of him having a casual friendship with Vris. As if he had been a figment of your imagination.

Only when you reach for the back of your neck and feel the telltale pulse of your tattoo do you know it wasn’t all a dream.

Taking a deep breath, you finally answer Cid. “I...am well.”

“Good,” Cid breathes, and just hearing his voice makes you yearn for his company. You hope he’ll visit soon. “All good on funds? Need any extra change?”

“Cid, you already wire me nearly 500,000 gil a month; I couldn’t do anything else with more of it.” You grumble as you pick up some chicken breasts and place them in your basket.

“Hey, that money isn’t just for you. I know you want to keep baby Aldynn a secret, but he is still the rightful heir of the Galvus inheritance, and with me in charge of the funds I’ll ensure he gets it. The best time to start saving for college is now,”

“Cid.” you sigh, padding your way to prepare to checkout. Thankfully the lines aren’t too long this time of day. “Aldynn is barely a year old. I don’t have to start thinking about college for another decade and a half.”

“I know, I know…” Cid grumbles, and you can’t help but feel a little bad. Cid really did mean well, being every bit the overprotective uncle you knew he’d be. “I just worry. And I miss you.”

Smiling sadly, you begin to hand your items to the cashier to checkout. “I miss you too, Cid.”

“And better me to call you than Merlwyb, eh? You know we’re practically monitoring her bank account to make sure she hasn’t bought another round trip ticket to Eorzea.” Cid laughs, prompting you to snicker as you hand your payment to the cashier.

“I don’t know what she worries so much for...she really should work through her guilt…” you muse quietly, thanking the cashier as they help load your bags back into your basket.

“She will, in time. Granted, I'm sure the statue they are about to erect of Raubahn down at the police station will reopen some old wounds for a little bit.” Cid laments, both of you silent for a second. “You may be seeing her come over sooner than you’d like. Your statue,”

You stop in place as you glare angrily at the phone glued to the side of your face. “My statue?”

“Shit,” Cid curses under his breath. “Yeah, I fucked that one up. Sorry, Honey.” Cid apologizes, but you’re already fuming as you make your way out to the parking lot.

“I already said I didn’t want a statue! That Chief Raubahn was the only one who deserved it for his sacrifice!” You huff and puff, practically throwing your groceries into your trunk in frustration.

“I know, I know, but you know Merlwyb can be very convincing and very intimidating…” Cid winces as he tries to calm you down. “It’s just going to be a nice little statue in one of the parks, I promise. Merlwyb was prepared to give you an entire fountain--”

“Well thanks for making her show some restraint.” You drone sarcastically, slamming the trunk lid closed. You swear you were going to give that woman a piece of your mind. “Anyway, I appreciate the call Cid. I’m about to drive back home and cook dinner. Gotta send the babysitter on their way.”

“Of course, Honey. Take care.”

The call ends and you pull out of the parking lot, driving your humble car back out of the city. You took to Gridania almost immediately, the climate not too different from Kugane, though the entire country was packed with trees and native flora. You didn’t mind it though, having picked up gardening as a little side hobby as a result. You most likely wouldn’t try and go back into any line of work until baby Aldynn started going to school, which wouldn’t be for a few years yet.

Adjusting to an entirely new life hadn’t been easy, but you needed to just get away from everything. When you were fit to be released from the hospital after the whole ordeal, the outside of the hospital was packed with press, so much so that the only way out of there undetected was with Ardbert’s help since he wasn’t as prominent a figure as Cid or Merlwyb.

You were dodging letters and emails and phone calls every hour of every day it felt like, people badgering you about how you stayed undercover for so long, about how you had saved Merlwyb from being killed alongside Raubahn, about your supposed romance with the heir who had mysteriously gone missing--

It was Lyse and Y’Shtola’s idea that you leave Kugane.

You couldn’t have been any happier to finally reunite with them, the two of them crying their eyes out as they are finally allowed to see you, weeping about how they saw you on the news and how worried they were and for you to never leave their sight again.

You had thought to do just that, but even they could see your mental health continue to deteriorate. You couldn’t even leave your own apartment for fear of being recognized in public, unsure if people would question your “heroic deeds” or ask you things far too personal to answer. It was with their encouragement you got the idea to leave the country and start anew, and what better time to do so when you were halfway through your pregnancy? A pregnancy that against all odds, your unborn child had been just as strong as its parents.

Which, as hard as it was for you to admit, made you wonder if Aldynn would have some kind of freakish strength as he got older. No matter how many doctors checked you, after the sting operation, they said that both mother and baby were the perfect picture of health. While you were overjoyed that you would not have to deal with the trauma of a miscarriage, you can’t steer your mind from darker thoughts that your baby might have been the invincible weapon Varis had been hoping for.

Pulled from your thoughts as your phone rings, you activate the hands free calling, noticing it is your babysitter. “Hello, Zhloe. I know you’re probably eager to get home, I just left the grocery store a little while ago--”

“Oh don’t worry about it! Aldynn is safe with his father!”

Your heart stops.

“Excuse me?” you ask, voice tight but making sure to not lose your cool. While an adult, Zhloe was a very kindhearted, yet unfortunately naive individual. She lived with her younger sister down the road where they ran an animal sanctuary, the two of them orphaned when they were young but maintaining their good hearts regardless.

“Yes! I had left the house a little while ago, but a man knocked on the door. I asked who he was and he told me he was looking for you. I told him very nicely to go away at first because I thought he was a stranger, but when I got a good look at him through the window, I saw he looked just like Aldynn. I asked how he knew you, and he said he was Aldynn’s father.”

Your foot floors the gas before you can stop yourself. You had told her nothing of your past; for all you knew whatever stranger she let in your house could be out for revenge. “Zhloe, I hate to tell you this, but Aldynn’s father,”

“It’s okay, Ms. Honey, I won’t tell anybody! When I asked him questions about you, he answered all of them and that made me sure he wasn’t a stranger. I’ll admit, I had always wondered about Aldynn’s father, but it makes sense he was off in the military like he said. If you guys ever need a date night, just give me a call! He’s so handsome too...you really hit the jackpot!”

“Zhloe, wait--”

“I’m going to get dinner ready for me and Khloe. Have a good night!”

The phone call ends, and you decide not to try and call back to not worry the poor woman. She surely meant well, but you can’t stop your heart from leaping out of your chest as you turn onto the road that has you exit the city and leads to your countryside home.

It’s not possible, you keep telling yourself as you blaze down the street, passing cars like you’re in a street race. Could one of Varis’ old goons have found you, wanting revenge? Would they hold your baby hostage? It’s not possible, it’s not possible--

You’re practically drifting into the driveway of your home, kicking up dirt as you wrench the car to a stop, practically flailing as you kick the car door open. “Aldynn!” You cry. You can see the light on in his room upstairs. Your baby is in danger, he’s in danger--

Shoving the keys into the lock, you fling the door open, running down the entrance hallway and straight into the living room. Your living room is completely empty and you can see nobody in the kitchen or dining area. The house is quiet, not even the sound of your baby crying. Did they already get him? Is he gone--

“I would keep it down,” a voice calls from upstairs, “our son is sleeping.”

It’s not possible.

Halfway near tears, you numbly climb the stairs, afraid of what you might find.

You know that voice.

A single light fills the hallway from Aldynn’s room, and you hear not so much as a whimper from your babe. He knows he is safe, knows he is in no danger.

It’s not possible.

Reaching the doorway, Aldynn’s room is exactly as you left it, and so is your son. Not a hair out of place, his chubby face relaxed and asleep, entirely content in the muscular arms of the man who rocks him gently in his arms. With golden hair like your son’s adorning the man’s shoulders, there is no doubt of who is holding your child.

Blue eyes land upon you, twinkling with mirth. Pouty, pink lips pull into a taunting smile.

“Hello, my love.”

[hms-chill]

Sanctuary

Summary: In a quiet moment, Henry and Bea reflect on her addiction, its lasting effects, and the night he found her outside a London club. Lots of tears, hugs, and those good sibling vibes, complete with the reassurance that they've always got each other's backs.

Trigger warnings for references of past drug use/abuse

Henry loves days like this. He and Bea haven’t had enough time together recently, but today, their outdoor event has been tragically rained out, so they’ve sequestered themselves in the music room. Henry’s brought a book of Byron, and he’s already planning to read especially good bits aloud. Bea’s got a cross-stitch project, since, in her own words, she ‘felt stabby’. His legs are draped across her lap, and she’ll occasionally rub his knee, humming at a particularly good line. He’s just finished reading a bit as he looks up to watch her tie off a thread, then she looks around and sighs.

“Fuck, I left my threader in the other room. If you move your legs, I can—“

“Let me,” Henry says, and she smiles. She passes over the needle and thread, wiggling her fingers a bit to stretch them. It takes him a bit, his eyes crossing as he focuses on it. When it’s threaded, he hands it over with a smile and looks back to his book. Bea turns to her project again with a “thank you”, and Henry reads out a couplet before he looks up to watch her hands. She seems alright, at least as far as he can tell.

He’s sort of generally known that the cocaine affected her fine motor skills. Before she got help, they didn’t see much of each other, but once, they’d been forced to go to the same banquet. She’d come to find him as they were getting ready, and he’d been so happy to see her that he almost didn’t notice the way her eyes didn’t quite focus or the fact that she barely said hello as she stepped into his room. He’d thought maybe she was there to talk, to finally admit she needed something, anything, but instead, she’d just pulled off a cardigan and asked him to zip her up. He remembers standing there, trying to process the way her spine stood out, as she fumbled along the back of the dress. He distinctly remembers thinking that she should have been fine. He’d watched her hand find the zipper pull, but she couldn’t seem to hold it.

He’d zipped her up, and helped her put the cardigan back on, and she’d left. At the banquet that night, she’d been wearing too much clumsy eye makeup, and she might have dropped a fork before she snuck out early, leaving Henry to pretend he didn’t know what she was doing. Philip had come home the next day, and he’s not sure how much she remembers of that particular night. She’d gotten most of her fine motor skills back with therapy, and Henry’d sort of assumed that was the end of it. But suddenly, he wonders if it really was.

He’d known she bought a packet of needle threaders a few weeks after she got home from rehab. She’s used post-it tabs to help her turn pages in speeches recently. A few days ago, she’d been filling a teabag and had spilled, scattering leaves across the counter.

“Bea?” He asks after a minute, and she hums, still focused on her cross stitch. Henry’s pretty sure it’s going to say ‘fuck’, which makes him smile. “Do... if you don’t want to talk about it that’s okay, but do you still... I know you keep your sobriety chip handy and don’t drink so you don’t... and I know you’ve joked about it, but do you ever want to...”

“I do.” She’s still focused on the cloth in front of her, but her hands are still. “I... I mean, I don’t want to use, not... but it’s always sort of there. Maybe not always, not times like this. But when things get stressful, or when we’re in a club sometimes. When it would be easy, it would seem like an easy way out, to just... have everything stop for a while. But I’m fine; you don’t have to worry.”

Henry watches her face as he asks his next question, trying to judge from the set of her mouth if he’s getting too close. They have the same tells; their mouths pinch in the same place when they’re uncomfortable. Looking back at their dad’s work, they probably both got it from him. “Do... we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, but are there other side effects that still bother you? I looked them all up when you went to rehab, but I don’t think we ever talked about them.”

She’s still for a moment, then she sets down her hoop, one hand coming to hold Henry’s tightly. Henry just holds onto her and waits, watching her cycle through barely-noticeable stages of uncertainty before she says, “It’s... I still get the cravings. And it... I mean internally, I’m all fucked up. My heart, my gut, it... it’s all a mess in there. But other than that, I’m alright.”

“You’re sure? I just... I want to be able to help you. If I can. I don’t know, but if there’s anything like that I can do, I want to.”

Bea moves her project aside and pulls him into a hug. His arms wrap around her automatically, even as he wishes he could still see her face. He’s not sure how she’s feeling; not sure if she’s being honest or just trying to get him to relax when she says, “You don’t need to worry about me, Hen. I’m just fine.”

“I’ll... I think I’ll sort of always worry about you,” he tells her shoulder. Her hold tightens on him, but he forges on before he can let himself think that maybe he’s making her feel guilty. Maybe he should lie to her just to make sure she doesn’t feel bad for talking to him about any of this. Maybe lying would make her feel better, but they’ve promised not to lie to each other or shut each other out, not anymore. If he tells her he’s not worried, it’ll be the first step down a path he doesn’t want anything to do with, so he forges ahead. “But I’m serious; if you want to tell me, maybe I can help somehow.”

She’s quiet for a bit, petting his hair as the rain taps against the window behind them. Henry's suddenly glad they're having this conversation here, rather than in any of the big, impersonal rooms in their suite. Eventually, she says, “I... I can’t always... delayed gratification is hard. It... for so long, I’d just... I’d want to feel better and I would. Just like that. And it didn’t really matter for a while, but now that I’ve got the charity, and there are so many choices and things there that take time, and it... do you think maybe we could find something you could do there?”

“I’m sure we can find something. Maybe I can... I don’t know; we could talk through some of the more long-term decisions? And I could help you think through things a bit? Not make them for you, but just... help lay things out?”

“I’d like that,” Bea says. She lets him go, but she doesn’t pick up her embroidery hoop again. Henry watches her carefully as she rests both hands on his legs, which are still draped across her lap. After a long minute, she doesn’t look up at him, but she says, “If... you don’t have to, but if I’m completely honest, I don’t... that night you came and found me, I... I don’t think I remember everything. I remember... I remember leaving rehab, thinking that if Philip and Gran were upset then I must have been doing something right. And I remember getting into the club, but after... after I started smoking it’s... it’s all sort of hazy until you were crying. I remember you being upset, and afraid; I think that’s sort of what shook me out of it. You were afraid, and you’d said you were gay. But it’s... before that, it’s a bit of a haze.”

“Oh. Well, I... I don’t know all of it, obviously, but I can... I’ll tell you what I know?” Bea nods, still not really looking at him. She’s chewing her lip, and she’s going to hurt herself, but this isn’t a moment for him to tell her how to cope. “I... we found out when you left rehab; they called us here. Philip was... upset, so I... I was up here when you called me, mostly to be away from him. It was loud; I couldn’t hear much, but you... you were crying. So I got your phone’s location, and I... this is probably stupid, but I think I just went. It’s… It’s all sort of just a haze of worry from there; I was so scared you’d change your mind and wouldn’t let me help. I remember talking to you, trying to tell you to go outside so I could hear you, and a few minutes after you did the call just… dropped. I think your phone died or something, but I was so scared I’d done something wrong I couldn’t focus on much else. I know Shaan was with me; someone else drove and I can’t imagine I’d have asked anyone else.” He goes quiet for a bit, trying to figure out how much of the next bit she needs to know.

Does she need to know that when she saw him, round the corner and come into the alleyway at the back of the club, she’d struggled to get up to meet him? Does she need to know how sharp her ribs felt when he hugged her, or how her shoulder stabbed into his when they sat back down and she leaned against him? Should he tell her that she’d still been smoking, and he has a tiny scar on his wrist from where he’d been burned as he took the drugs away from her?

“I, um, I... found you,” he says eventually. “You were... you were in a sort of alleyway behind the club, sitting on the steps. And I... I sat beside you, and I just cried. I don’t... I’m not sure I’d cried since the funeral, but I was so scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen, to you or me or any of us. You were talking about how Philip and Gran were conspiring against you, trying to lock you away in a hospital when you didn’t need any help. I just... I don’t remember what I said, not exactly. Something about how you weren’t eating and you weren’t talking to me. I... I used to text you every day.” He’s getting choked up, his eyes fixating on where Bea’s hands rest on his legs. “I used to text you from school every day, and you never answered. So I think... I think I told you that, about how hard I’d been trying. And that didn’t work, at least not really; you were quiet but it wasn’t... you weren’t there. I don’t know how to describe it, but I knew it... that’s when I told you I was gay. I made you look at me, and I made you promise not to tell anyone, and then I said you couldn’t die because I was gay and you were all I had left.

“After that, it... I think you cried, too. You said you weren’t going to leave me, and you hugged me.” He remembers that hug as much as anything; remembers how fragile Bea felt in his arms, how she’d been shaking but had hugged him tightly anyway. “We got you into the car, and Shaan must have driven us home. I just remember holding onto you; I was... I was so scared you were going to make a break for it. We tried to sneak in, but you... you weren’t the steadiest on your feet.”

“I knocked over a... a painting, right? Knocked it off a wall? The frame broke; there’s a scar on my shin from where a piece hit me when it fell.”

“It was so loud,” Henry says, finally looking at her with a wry smile. “But it... it felt like we were kids again. We had our shoes off, and we got up here as fast as we could. You... we both fell asleep in here that night. It was the only place I could think of that felt… I don’t know, safe somehow.”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Bea says, nodding. “I... I thought if I didn’t have you to remind me, I might try and sneak out again. You made me take the couch, and then you slept on the floor next to me so I couldn’t get out without waking you.”

Henry nods, not sure what else to say for a moment. Eventually, he says, “You texted me from rehab the next day. I don’t... you weren’t supposed to have a phone, so I don’t know how you did it, but I got it while I was on my way back to school and it made me so happy I cried.”

“I think I might have bribed a nurse. Her kid really loved princesses, and I might have pulled some strings. It’s all a bit hazy,” she says with a wink, and Henry laughs, hugging her again.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “I... I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

“And I couldn’t have done any of the rest of it without you.”

On AO3

You ever just have a lot of feelings about Bea? And about how she very well could have lost the fine motor skills necessary to play the guitar? And then you get really emotional about it? Me neither

-

Want to support the Hannah Makes Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

[femchef]

[Apologies because this is a thing that is...incredibly specific and if you don’t want to read about a restaurant person complaining about other restaurant people please feel free to scroll past]

So. A big issue that has come up with covid this year is cancelations for event contracts - weddings, catering, big events small events.

Specifically either not being able to cancel or reschedule the events at all. Long story short this was supposed to be a golden year for the wedding industry especially and it has been a mad scramble for everyone. And you can point out the myriad problems with the wedding industry specifically, like yes, please go for it, I get it, I promise. But that is not this post.

No. This post is me pulling aside the whiny bitch catering industry because we need to have a talk, sweetie.

A talk.

Look. I’ve been in this food industry a long time. So do not. Do not sit there and look me in the eye and say “oh but we can’t donate that food either, it’s event specific”.

You may be wondering about what, exactly, it is that I’m talking about?

I’m talking about couples or parents of couples who, when faced with a catering contract they can’t/don’t want to get out of, say, “well, since we can’t functionally hold the wedding/event, anyway, we would like for you to donate the food to a shelter/cause/xyz”.

And that? That’s a fucking marvelous idea! Yes! Please pick a local or national charity or cause! Get in touch with them! Expend the 5/10/20K$ of labor and production and food cost on making lasagna and brownies and donate it to the homeless shelters instead. That is an excellent way to keep that money in the business, to make sure your catering dept can still get paid, to stay relevant in your community, to make the couple who weren’t able to use that money for their wedding feel like they’ve done something impactful, AND it’s a good tax write off. Make meals for the local hospital workers. Reach out to your local farmers market or second harvest and arrange a hot meal pick up day for neighborhoods impacted the worst in your area or for families with long term care patients!

But bitch, do. Not. Sit. There. And tell that couple on the other side of the phone who’s originally scheduled event date is still more than two or three months away that you can’t possibly change the food or where it goes to now.

Do you know how I know that is a fucking piece of shit thing to say? Because that food isn’t stockpiled in your walk in - you aren’t ordering event specific food until 3-12 days before the event takes place.

And don’t for one moment pretend like it’s about the contracts either - I’ve looked at those contracts. We make adjustments based on dietary requirements and needs all the fucking time. They are easy to alter for a reason. Catering contracts are not so iron-clad that you can’t change venue location, delivery times, etc. because shit happens. Weddings and events get canceled. All the damn time. It happened before covid, and it will continue to happen after things settle down over the years.

If you are unwilling to participate in your community, then fine - but look everyone in the eye and say it out loud. Admit it. Don’t try hiding behind orders and contracts, and just admit you would rather keep the money in the office instead of 1) paying employees to do catering and 2) being positively involved in your local community. Because that is what it boils down to.

Fuck. You.

[obviously this isn’t directed at all of the other companies who have actually jumped in to help, and who have been taking turns feeding frontline hospital employees and donating to their local shelters and food banks and recovery funds. Also this isn’t directed at the company I work for, because we are decent and have been dedicating a lot of our time also. No. Y’all know who the fuck you are, you pieces of shit]