#i am very busy this year and usually it would be late november and early december being swallowed up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jawllines · 4 years

Note

Sorry to be annoying but I asked awhile ago and I think tumblr ate my ask but did you ever do tattoo Harry blurb? I love them and I miss them:( I’ve looked through your tags and there isn’t any on there if you have posted one

I CAN POST ONE I WROTE A WHILE AGO RIGHT NOW :D I DONT THINK I POSTED HERE BUT LET ME KNOW HERE YOU GO PET

“Baby -- baby, c’mon!”

It was rare that Harry ever woke Y/N with more than kisses and cuddles. Maybe an abrupt shoulder shake if the both of them slept through their alarms (and, considering that they are the only ones with the key to open up their own respective stores, they never typically arrived late facing happy employees -- or in Y/N’s case, employee -- Niall, in particular, was always more of a grump in that situation than Riktor even), but even that still managed to be tender, and soft. He always treated her so delicately, as if she were made up of porcelain in the morning and it was imperative to speak in a low, soothing voice with careful touches or she might shatter. And she really didn’t think it was because she was an absolute terror to wake up -- Y/N did quite well, even as early as 5 AM she was still in somewhat of a pleasant mood, certainly nothing to be fearful of -- she thinks he’s just gentle in the morning. He’s gentle all the time, but for some reason or another, he’s extra soft with her then.

They had both had a bit of a busy day, so by the time that they made it back to Y/N’s flat (Harry said he liked it there best because it smelled like her, and -- well, he softens her up and calls her Darling when he wants them to go over there, so it’s hard to say no), both of them were ready for bed. Neither of them could barely keep their eyes open as they scarfed down the burgers they’d picked up on the way home, and once they’d finished and brushed their teeth, they toppled into each other on the mattress. Y/N would reckon they both fell asleep before their heads had even hit the pillow -- she doesn’t even remember crawling beneath the blankets.

Apparently she had though, because now as her brain tunes in with the world around her and she realizes that the distorted voice that had begun to prod her dreams was actually a grumpy, dry throat Harry, she’s cuddling herself closer in the covers. This only makes him grumble at her more, “You’re such a blanket hog,” he whines and Y/N finally blinks her eyes open, being greeted with Harry’s disgruntled, pouted face illuminated by the sunlight beginning to slip through the blinds, “I’ve been trying to unravel it for like ten minutes, but you’re all wrapped up! I’m cold.”

Y/N smiles sleepily at him, not understanding the gravity of the situation entirely as she begins to un-burrito herself from the covers, “G’morning, beautiful,” she murmurs as she does so, finally disentangling from the blankets and while she was a little less warm, Harry was quick to wiggle in beneath them, “Sorry.”

“Don’ be sweet when m’tryin’ to be angry with you,” she puckers her lips at him dramatically, and though he sighs, he leans in and presses their mouths together softly, “Your kisses aren’t g’na sweeten me up, m’still grumpy, blanket hog.”

She can only hum as she cuddles closer to him, “Sorry,” she repeated, this time adding, “Like to swaddle myself like a lil’ baby. Reckon you weren’t holdin’ me well enough last night.”

An offended gasp leaves through his lips soundly, enough that it startles her, but his arms worm around her waist and draw her closer to his body, “Brat,” he grumbled, dipping his nose into her throat, “I held you so well and you just wiggled right out of my arms and took all the covers with you.”

“Like a worm -- I wiggled out like a worm or somethin’,” she tried to sit up but his arms tightened around her, “This worm has to pee though and she’ll soak the bed if she isn’t allowed.”

His arm loosens around her, “This worm sounds like she’s a sleepy sort of delusional that requires about two hours more of rest.”

Y/N stumbles toward the bathroom in her room, “Noooooooo,” she whines, frowning at nobody, not bothering to swing the door shut before she plops on the cold toilet seat to relieve herself, “We’re supposed to go get hot chocolate, no more sleep.”

“Baby, it’s 6 AM and I’ve been up the last 30 minutes freezing my bits off!” He calls back to her and she giggles some, her eyes trying to accommodate to the bright white lights of the bathroom, “Sleep just a bit more and we’ll get the hot chocolate when we wake up next.”

She waits until she flushes and washes her hands to respond to him, and though she knows that she is definitely going to crawl back in bed and fall asleep, she stands at the foot of it with her hands in fists at her hips. He had let his eyes flutter closed by then but she thinks he could feel her eyeballing him, so he looks up past the mountain of blankets now covering him so she could only see his eyes and his nose, “What’re you doing?”

“You’re telling me, you don’t wanna go at 6 AM, three hours before the kiosk even opens to get hot chocolate with me? You must really hate me, don’t you?”

He huffs a sharp breath through his nose which is how he usually laughs in the morning, when he can’t muster up the strength to have a proper giggle, “Absolutely loathe you, baby doll, but could you please come back to bed so I can loathe you in the warmth?”

It takes little persuading -- as she said, she knew she was just going to crawl right back in beside him -- and instead of relying too heavily on the blankets to provide her warmth (like wrapping up half of it around her so she was cocooned entirely. . .this is what she normally does, and she would say that’s probably why Harry almost never has any of the covers in the morning), she relies on him. Picks up his arm so that she can fit herself underneath it and lies her cheek on his chest, “Your pits better not be smelly.”

“I make no promises.”

. . .

“I love your hair.”

“Stop it, Sweetheart, I’m g’na start blushing.”

They had slept for four more hours rather than the two Harry had originally suggested, but that always happens with them. Y/N would say that they are just too content cuddled up with one another that they milk it for all it’s worth. If one of them wakes up before the other, then they just settle their head back down and close their eyes again. Unless they had somewhere to be, of course, but Harry had a free Saturday (no clients schedule, even though Saturday’s could often be some of his heaviest days) and he’d elected to spend it with her -- whether they were awake or asleep didn’t much mater, they just liked to be near each other.

When they finally did wake up, they lazily got dressed into about thirty layers so they wouldn’t freeze outside. The weather had grown frigid quite quickly this November, and neither of them stood the cold very well, but there was a park lined with little pop-up kiosks with hot chocolate, sweets, little holiday goodies, and an obscene amount of knitted blankets (it was a clever marketing tactic, Y/N thought -- everyone is more willing to spend money on a blanket when they’re freezing cold - she and Harry had certainly fallen for it today). Y/N bought them shoe warmers to keep their toes at least not numb, and Harry lets her borrow a pair of his gloves because she keeps forgetting to buy some of her own. They both have hats fitted over their heads too, and since Harry’s let his hair grow out, his curls stick out from beneath the pumpkin orange print and Y/N can’t stop staring at it. She’s always loved his hair, she told him as much one of the first nights they’d sat on her bookstore’s floor and talked about just a bit of everything. Back when she barely realized she had a crush on him. . . .when she didn’t know that in just a little time, she would be over the moon.

And she’ll never forget that people used to make him feel like shit about his hair, so she maybe overcompensates by telling him every time she has thought about loving it. Which means today, in the span of a short three hours they’d been awake, Y/N had complimented his hair about twenty different times. If she was running her fingers through it, fixing his beanie, or just staring at him, she let him know just how much she adored his curls.

“I hate to tell you this, Button, but your cheeks are already red as apples,” she shifted the paper cup of hot chocolate from her hand closest to him to the other, so she could reach up and tuck them behind his ear, that had reddened from the cold, “The air has you more bashful than I ever could.”

“Not true,” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he knocks closer to her ear, “I always blush when you go down on me.”

“God,” Y/N shakes her head, “You’re too much, d’ya know that?”

He laughs, nudging her with the cold tip of his nose, “You want the peppermint bark? We’re coming up on the seller.”

“Of course, I want peppermint bark,” she reaches for her wallet, “I’m stocking us up for the next hundred years or so.”

Harry slows for a moment, sliding his gloved hand into her own and squeezing, “Hey,” he begins, his voice soft, somewhat reflective and it brings her attention to him at her side, “Y’know when -- you remember how you said you just get random flushes of love for me and s’a whole lot and you just don’t know what to do with it?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, like every waking minute practically. Why?”

He smiles shyly, “I’m having one of those moments.”

“For the peppermint bark?” She teases, but his brows furrow and he swats her shoulder playfully, “Hey!”

“I’m trying to be sweet on you, and you’re still going on about this bloody chocolate,” he rubs the arm that he swats, even though Y/N has so many layers on plus the blanket that she bought wrapped around her, that he made no real contact with her body.

Y/N pulls him in for a hug, narrowly avoiding a child running past them as she does so, “Oh, you know m’only kidding. I love you too, Bug, more than words can describe and ten times more than the chocolate I reckon. . .well, unless it’s made really well this year.”

“I’ll leave you here, blanket hog.”

#blurbs #Anonymous

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snapefiction · 4 years

Note

Can I request a Snape x Reader where the reader gets pregnant and reveals her pregnancy in the form of a Christmas gift, maybe some cute baby kittens? 🥺 absolutely love your work, and thought to keep it christmassy!

A/N: Thank you so much for your compliment and for this cute request! I hope you like the way this one turned out! ❤️

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Word count: 2189

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, Swearing

Due to your Job at the tea shop at Diagon alley you always got very busy around the Christmas Holidays. Starting at the end of November the Wizards, Witches, goblins and a lot of more magic beings started to flood the small shop only to get the best tea in whole England, atleast that's what Severus your longterm boyfriend called it. Severus was a Potions Professor at Hogwarts one of the most popular schools for magic. The two of you met around 6 years ago when he ran into your shop only to get a bag of tea. He was very late and you actually already had closed but when your gaze met his you fell for him. That's why you let him in your shop after closing time to buy the last pack of peppermint tea. On the Next day he came back early in the morning as the first costumer of the day only to buy some more tea. This continued two weeks long until he had every variation of tea at his kitchen and finally dared to ask you out. Since then the both of you have been inseparable. The both of you never fought- you always somehow agreed with each other on every topic. Even though he might be a little older than you are, eleven years to be exact, he always shared your opinions.

That's why you knew exactly what to get for Severus on Christmas and what not. To bring more happiness into the small house at Spinners end the both of you always thought about adopting a cat. At first Severus was a little bit skeptical but when he saw that little kitten at the animal shelter in Cokesworth he fell in love with a little lady named Ally. He was crazy about her and you had never seen him this happy about something before. Because the Owls approached shortly before Christmas this year and you couldn't take some time off before the 24th of December you had to decide that Ally would move in with you the day after Christmas. It wouldn't be fair to her if she, as she was only a kitten yet, would've to stay at home all alone all day long. That's why you decided to wait which seemed to be the best solution for everyone.

Anyways. Today was the 16th of December and only after two hours after your shift started your feet started to hurt. This usually only happens short before your shift ended at 7 Pm but not at 2Pm. Not thinking anything about it you kept working and selling everyone the most variously teas in town. But it wasn't until a few hours later as you noticed how the smell of Vanilla almost made you choke. It turned from one of your favourite smells into your worst nightmare. Thinking about enchanting the damn box of vanilla tea you got more and more stressed out by every minute.

,,Is everything alright Y/N?" Your co-worker and chef Kim asked as she passed you a cup of tea. Curious she raised her brows.

,,Yes, I'm alright. Just caught a Cold or something." Smirking she nodded and you knew that she probably thought of completely other things.

,,Or maybe it's because you are all my cupcakes, dear." She now said in a bit huffing tone only to show you the empty plate as an evidence sign.

,,I'm sorryyy- they're just so great." Rolling her eyes Kim now sat down next to you. ,,I know. That's why you stole them the last few weeks from the fridge."

,,I'll get you new ones tomorrow, I promise." Chuckling you grabbed a cookie from your lunchbox before taking another sip of your tea.

,,I really hope so. Or else I have to ask Severus for a Potion that could make you hate Cupcake or I don't know.. enchant them or something. He's probably more intelligent than I am when it's about inventing spells and potions." She mumbled while browsing through a new catalog of tea ingredients and jars. The day went by without any further events and you almost couldn't wait anymore until Severus would come back home in less than 8 days by now.

Waking up in the morning you knew something wasn't right. Your stomach turned around and you barely made it to the toilet until the cupcakes and cookies from yesterday and the tea made their way up your throat again. This couldn't be happening. It was the most important time of the year for the shop and you just couldn't get sick right now. Somehow, even though you were 25 Minutes late, you still made it to the tea shop where a stressed out Kim was awaiting you.

,,Y/N! Thank Merlin you're here! I though you wouldn't come at all." Shaking your Head You silently took her place at the cashbox so she could do her job. As the lunchtime came around and you got to close the shop for round about 30 Minutes Kim wasn't waiting long until pressuring you to another smalltalk again.

,,Why do you look so sad? Did you forgot the Cupcakes or something?" Her Face was tensioned as the thought of not getting her loved cupcakes again.

,,They're in the fridge." You sighed before rubbing your eyes and leaning back against the wall. Watching her hovering above the plate of cupcakes you had to talk to her. ,,Sorry for being late. I just- I had to throw up all morning long. It's a nightmare." Holding a Cupcake in her hand the pink haired woman who was also somehow your best friend now listened closer to what you said.

,,Let's hope You're not pregnant, I wouldn't be able to lead the shop without you." She mumbled and bid into the sweet bakery in her hand. ,,Maybe it's just something about your Period coming up. PMS or so what."

,,I don't know. I can't even remember my last Period." You joked innocently, bid into a cupcake as well only to almost spit it out a few seconds after. Kim's eyes widened as well.

,,No way!" She said now putting the cupcake aside. ,,No fricking way!" Kim now gasped and held her hand above her mouth. You instantly realised that you couldn't remember your last period because you didn't had one. Wiping your mouth with a paper towel that Kim just gave you you rethought the last few months. The last time you really remembered your period was around October. October?! ,, Don't Play jokes on me!" She almost squeaked jumping happily up and down. If you really were pregnant she'd always of course support you and Severus. Wait- Shit- you had to tell Severus! But you didn't even made a test yet. Was it even necessary? Of course it was necessary. Looking back at Kimberly you just noticed how she had been talking to you all the time.

,,You know what, Sweety? You will take some time off today. I'll get Sarah to help me out and you can things get figured out, ok?" Just nodding easily you couldn't be happy just yet but just worry. If you were pregnant you were sure that Severus would be a lovely father but what about you? Are you ready to be a mom? A good mom the child of someone like Severus would deserve? And even worse if you weren't pregnant, would you feel sad or relieved? Would Severus even like to have kids with you? Your thought were so busy to rethink everything that you got out of words when you sat at the bathroom on the rim of the bathtub holding up the potion Kim just handed you and thinking about the Muggle pregnancy test you also got which were also about to tell you if you were expecting a baby or not.

,,And how do I use the potion?" You had asked Kim on the phone.

,,You have to spit in it and maybe shake it a little bit. If it turns red you're not pregnant." She said as her curiosity almost made her jump through the phone but you just hung up while still being shocked. Doing as she said you spit in the small jar, mixing it up with the fluid in it and shaking it. As you sat it down on the counter you buried your face in your hands. This was nerve wrecking! And a few seconds later you had your results.

24th December You had set up the Christmas Tree by yourself and already made Dinner so you and Severus could relax as soon as he would arrive late at the evening. Also you managed to pick up Ally earlier then planned due to Kim telling you to stay at home until Severus would be back again. The last few days you were so nervous it was stealing your sleep. Not being able to relax you sat on the couch watching Ally sleep in her small basket. Only when you heard the Keys turn in the lock you felt like some weight fell off your shoulders.

,,Y/N, love. I'm home." Your tall Boyfriend instantly went looking for you. Pulling you close to kiss you he softly hummed against your lips- you missed him so much! After he let go of you he instantly kneeled down to pet Ally. ,,She's so cute, isn't she?" Nodding he looked up to you. ,,She's a baby!" His voice was so high pitched it made you chuckle instantly. He was a strict man and seeing him becoming so excited about this tiny kitty was just too cute. As he got himself to let go of her he took off his jacket and sat down on the couch next to you. He always enjoyed slowly arriving at home just spending the first few moments with you but you were just too tensed. ,,Ready for Dinner?" You quickly pressed. Before Severus could answer you already hurried to the Kitchen.

The Dinner went on surprisingly unproblematic. He talked about the so very ugly Christmas sweater he got from Minerva and how he gave her some pink socks in return. To his disadvantage she loved the socks and wasn't upset or anything at all. They loved getting themselves the ugliest Presents they found so they could watch the other one being teased. Last year he got her the Biography from Lockhart- ohh she was raging about this one! ,,I'm never ever going to wear that ,thing'. Anyways, your presents are always the bests. I can't wait to see what you got me." He said before downing the last bite of chicken down with some wine. Smiling nervous you just nodded getting up to wash the plates. ,,Y/N, let me do that after we unwrapped our gifts." He smiled and kissed your neck softly.

Your legs felt like they would collapse any second that's how nervous you were by now. How would he react? Well, you were about to find out.

Sitting next to each other at the couch he smiling gave you another kiss. ,,What's bothering you so much?" He whispered against your lips and you knew your cover has been blown. His hands carefully petted the small kitty who just walked over his legs to lay down on your lap.

,,I'm just nervous that you maybe won't like my present. That's all." And by that you gave him the small box form below the tree.

,,I'm sure i will love the present as much as I love you." His smile was as wide as could be but as he opened the lid of the box and it discovered the small cat plushie, the potion you used to discover your pregnancy and a small baby body in the colours of Slytherin it faded. He was staring at it not believing his eyes. ,,What does this mean?" You opened your mouth but no words left your mind.

,,Y/N, if you're just joking - that's - that's not funny." He said now suddenly vulnerable and his eyes started to glistening. ,,I'm pregnant, Sev." You mumbled trying to hide your Face behind your hair. He suddenly breathed out and he hugged you tight.

,,I'm going to be a father?" Getting up while still hugging you he spun you around. Chuckling you noticed how all your worries weren't important at all. The relief was knocking all your doubts down. Looking at Severus you couldn't help it but cry - he was so very happy.

,,You're going to be the best father ever." ,,And you the best Mom. I knew that your present would be the best!" Letting you down you both sat down again. Instantly Severus hand found their way to your stomach trying to feel any type of Life.

,,Well, I have to admit that the new teacup I got for you isn't as good as your surprise. But I hope you still like it. I never thought I’d become a father myself- that’s so great!“ And again you kissed him being happy about the changes and the new members of your family. The both of you couldn't be happier!

Taglist: @deepperplexity , @monstreviolet , @wow-life-love4

Let me know if you want to be added in my Taglist. :)

#snape #Severus Snape #Severus Snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #snape x reader #snape x y/n #prosnape #my writing #snapefiction

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lacharcutiere · 3 years

Text

falling so soft [sawamura daichi]

1k words

previous | masterlist | next ➪

part two of i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone miniseries. time zones suck. being too busy to facetime sucks. not getting to have him as your new years kiss sucks. distractions… actually, those might be okay. but that’s to be determined.

^ if u got the ronny cheng reference lol i love u 👽 anyway, i did not plan that last bit out but,, THE PLOT THICKENS hehehe:)) also oops for having this up 2 hours late lol i totally forgot to queue it

JST: japanese standard time (GMT +9). EST: eastern standard time (GMT -5). EDT: eastern daylight time (GMT -4). man i hate daylight savings time why do we have to switch between the two, hopefully no one notices if i fucked up the math but if u do pls just ignore it <3

tings // fluff, lil bit of soft angst // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend’s pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to the taglist ! minors dni.

☾𓆙𓂻

— MOVE-IN DAY: 29 AUGUST 2021. 08:14 EDT.

your roommate is a talkative, ever-energetic, pretty half-russian girl named alya. she's from new jersey, you learn, just across the river. the two of you are a good match in energy, and she's easy to talk to. you'd chatted a couple times before over instagram, and the tiny bit of japanese she knew combined with your functional knowledge of english has made for conversations that flow easily from subject to subject.

you tell her about daichi, show her pictures of the two of you together from graduation, the summer—whatever you can find. she immediately loves the two of you together, excitement seeming ready to bubble over at how cute you must be, and you need to remind her over and over that you're just friends with him for now.

— 16 NOVEMBER, 2021. 10:23 EST.

according to the new york natives, this year's first snowfall is early. usually, alya tells you, it doesn't snow before thanksgiving.

— CHRISTMAS CARDS, DECEMBER 2021

from daichi (written 16th december, received 22nd december. opened on christmas day, 00:03 eastern standard time.)

from you (written 12th december, received 18th december. opened as soon as it arrived, 17:14 japan standard time.)

— 18TH DECEMBER, 2021. 23:03 JST, 09:03 EST.

you wake up to your phone buzzing on your bedside table, rubbing your face groggily as you fumble for it and see who it is.

“of course you’re still my favorite,” is the first thing he says as soon as you accept the call. and then, “oh shit, did i wake you up? i’m so sorry—“

you cut him off with a sleepy laugh, assuring him that no, it’s okay, for him you don’t mind.

"d'you get the card yet?" he sounds so excited, almost childlike; it's adorable, and you can't help but laugh some more.

"i did," you say, "but i'm saving it. i'm gonna open it on christmas."

he snorts. "i say open it now. i opened yours as soon as i saw it."

"yeah, but i'm talking to you now, i wanna save it so i have new things to hear from you even if you can't call."

"who says i won't call?"

"no one, but just in case."

— CHRISTMAS DAY 2021. 00:12 EST, 14:12 JST.

daichi's about to second guess calling you when he remembers you never go to bed early if you can help it, and especially not while you're off school. and, speak of the devil, his phone rings right then.

"hey." it's dim in your room, but he can hear the smile in your voice and that's all he needs.

"hey."

"i opened your card."

"did you, now?"

"mhm." you must be in bed; he can hear you nuzzling down into a downy comforter and yawning. it's adorable. "i miss you."

"i miss you, too."

there's silence on your end of the line for a while, save for breathing and blankets shifting around, and daichi takes it as his cue. "get some sleep," he tells you, "i can call you again tomorrow."

he hears you sigh—such a pretty sound—and then you speak again, barely above a whisper. "daichi?"

"hm?"

"can you just... stay on for a bit? just, like, until i'm asleep?"

and he laughs a little, but (unbeknownst to you, passed out within the next few minutes) he doesn't hang up for another hour.

— NEW YEAR’S EVE 2022. 23:58 JST, 09:58 EST.

he calls you just in time for the beginning of the new year (at least, where he is). it’s funny, you point out, how for thirteen hours you’ll be living in two different years. time zones are a bitch.

— 23:55 EST, 13:55 JST.

“welcome to 2022,” he says with a laugh when he picks up the phone. “‘s been pretty uneventful so far.”

— 16 FEBRUARY 2022. 09:55 EST.

a guy in your calc class comes up to you after a lecture and asks you if you’re single.

he’s not unattractive, and he’s smart. you’ve chatted a couple times and he’s always been easy to talk to. he’s funny, and he’s an international student from japan, too. you don’t know what to say at first; you wonder what daichi would want you to say. but you remember, you’re just friends for now.

you tell tōru yes.

— 11:03 EST, 01:03 JST.

feeling unbelievably guilty as you wait for your phone to ring while sitting on a bench outside the dining hall, you wonder what you're even supposed to tell him. that there's someone else? that you want to try seeing other people? how can you soften the blow without sounding like you're trying to make excuses for yourself? and it's not like your heart isn't still set on him and him only, but how can you possibly convince daichi of that?

so you're incredibly surprised to find out that daichi almost... doesn't mind. you don't miss the way his voice tenses up a little after you tell him, but you know that whatever he says, he's always honest with you. he even almost laughs at you for how stressed you seem.

"friends, remember? 's okay. it doesn't mean you can't see other people, just that we can tell each other whatever. and that i'll support you."

"you're not jealous?"

he pauses for a second, thinking, before saying, "i mean, honestly? i am, i guess." he stops again and you don't say anything, almost afraid. "but whatever we are, if you're happy, then it's okay. and tōru's a good guy." he huffs a short laugh. "if he were a shitty person, that'd be a very different story."

that's another surprise to you; apparently he and tōru were at least somewhat acquainted with one another. volleyball, daichi tells you.

small world.

☾𓆙𓂻

when you finally end the call, realizing how late it is in japan and that he must be needing to go to bed, you can't tell whether you feel less guilty knowing that he doesn't think you're in the wrong, or more guilty knowing that he's willing to sacrifice his wants for yours.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu series #sawamura daichi #daichi x reader angst #daichi x reader fluff #daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone #OH SHIT????#THE PLOT THICKENS >:))))#ignore this tag but #t*ru o**k*a

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nawilla · 3 years

Text

Trying to Scrounge Up Some Holiday Cheer

It’s Christmas Eve 2021. The Second Pandemic Christmas. No tree, no visits, house still kind of a pit but I’m spending what university holiday I can get on cleaning my house. So far M the Cat had a massive puke on my throw blanket and peed on the floor and D figured out how to jump on the radiator. (And the laundromat is closed. It’s only open 3 days a week and 2 of them are Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I was hoping to do CLEANING this week).

I wasn’t invited anywhere this year, but with the pandemic and M’s diabetes, I wouldn’t go anywhere anyway. Not that I expected to be. I’ve reached that age when if you aren’t married or coupled, you are usually only invited to events with your own family, and my family is out of state and going extinct. Both my parents had passed before I was in my thirties. My grandparents were already gone. My mother (and her estate) estranged me from most of her relatives. Then my aunts and uncles started to go. And by out of state, I mean WAY out of state, 8 hours by car, 12 hours by bus or train/bus, door to door. I am over forty and have a diabetic cat and don’t drive. And the Sibling is there. It’s not worth it.

Despite my total lack of desire to see anyone in person (and being way too busy with work commitments to actually host anything ever), I do try to make an effort for the holidays. I ordered more than half my holiday gifts before Thanksgiving this year because I was well aware of the shipping crisis, shortages, and supply chain issues that were going to make Christmas 2021 DIFFICULT. More than half the lab supplies I’ve ordered have been delayed or on backorder. I could read the writing on the wall. I ordered most of my gifts from Harry & David (and their sister companies), ordered most of it in November, went to eight brick and mortar stores to get chocolate oranges for my cousin (who is thirty-something, but his last parent died this year and his brother is developmentally disabled so I know no one is looking out for him), and managed to get wrapped presents sent to him AND my sister so they would know someone was thinking about them on Christmas this year.

My closest remaining family has officially dropped the ball.

Now, I am an adult (forty-something) and I know gifts are a bonus, not an expectation. And I know I did get gifts which I am grateful for. Several of my coworkers gifted me with gift cards, chocolate and a fricking adorable Baby Yoda duffel bag. I am grateful. I have several Christmas cards that I’m not opening until tomorrow morning, and I’m quite sure there is at least one check and/or gift card in the lot (not that I expect it, but my cousin asked if I got the card and implied this, and I explained I hadn’t opened them yet because it wasn’t Christmas yet). I don’t expect it and I’m grateful. I was very surprised to get quite a generous gift card from my late uncle by (first) marriage’s second wife, which equaled half the gifts he gave me in the past ten years (he only sent gift cards if Christmas Eve was on a Saturday, because he only actually bought them if he got Christmas Eve off from work and had nothing better to do. You can see how I’ve learned to manage expectations). I also am quite grateful for the gift from a college friend and saved it for Christmas morning.

But my sister . . . just didn’t go shopping this year. So, I’m not getting anything. First, she said Mid-November was too early to think about it. Then she spent post-Thanksgiving complaining that she didn’t want to shop over Black Friday. Then she complained there was too many crowds. (Apparently on the internet too). Then she said she was going to pull the same move our Dad did every year (he died in the 90s when we both still lived at home) and was going to go shopping on Christmas Eve. I accepted at this point she really wasn’t going to buy anything at this point. This morning she called me and asked if we could reschedule the opening of holiday gifts that she insists we do every Christmas morning over the phone to sometime tonight, so she can open my gifts to her so she can spend Christmas morning with our developmentally delayed cousin (who is frankly so low functioning, he’s not going to care if he sees her or not). I can only assume she is rescheduling because she got an invite to Christmas dinner, so she isn’t spending Christmas dinner with him. Oh, she also mentioned she hadn’t bothered to go holiday shopping on Christmas Eve either. At least I know she is treating everyone like this (or at least family, she is notorious for buying gifts for her friends and skipping family gifts).

I understand these are hard economic times and emotional times, and I’m not going to criticize someone for skipping Christmas, but if you are going to skip the holiday, be a grown up and say so in a timely manner, not after everyone else has sent you gifts. She openly refuses to be a grown up, but she’s usually not quite this bad.

I knew this was coming and I had realized I was probably not getting anything from my remaining (ie. still alive) aunt and uncle either, since I was not told to look for box this week. Neither of their adult kids (my cousins) get anything for me (and that’s okay), but usually their mom sends me something from the family. She texted today and apologized that she hadn’t sent out gifts. Apparently, she just started late, and nothing would get there by Christmas, so she just stopped shopping. And no, I don’t expect anything, but it’s just a bit disappointing to know that I really made an effort, and my closest remaining family just didn’t bother this year. I thought I’d have a few more years before I officially became the unmarried single woman no one in the family gave a crap about. (I don’t expect anything from the thirty-something cousin, he works a minimum wage job and can’t pay his bills). The family gift cards and checks I do get tend to be from older female relatives who were in this position (single women without kids or divorced-with-kids, though two of them have since married). Again, I don’t expect it, but I’m socially invisible the rest of the year, it is disheartening to find I’m just not the effort, even though I really can’t take it personally (though I’d be very surprised if my sister got nothing for her friends, that’s not her way).

And I have cats. I love them, but they tend to give presents no one wants. Like dead rodents. (They are indoor cats, so thankfully I don’t have that issue, but N took down a bat that got into the house once. She was very mad I took her flying toy away).

But it’s Christmas Eve, I have food in the fridge, ice cream in the freezer and I’m determined to cook something nice for myself and keep my chin up. I’m not forgotten, I have been remembered by my friends and I have something to open tomorrow (and a bunch of amazon gift cards to use). I will make the best of this Christmas and the goal is to have a full-sized tree this year, and I have a fanfic story rattling around in my head and knitting on the needles. Hope everyone else is having a great holiday. I’ve gotten my kitty snuggles from all three (and an aerosolized drool facial from D that I really didn’t want) so I know I’m loved.

#Holidays 2021 #christmas #feeling grinchy

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woah-were-halfway-there · 4 years

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Just What I Needed

A/N: so many of you have been asking for more of my Along For The Ride series and I 🥺 y’all are the reason I even wrote this new piece and decided to continue the story at all, so shout out to you all. This is going to be a little sub-series of at least a few parts so if you haven’t read any of AFTR first I recommend it. Also, this is takes places right after this one shot here. Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 5.2k

"I think I might be pregnant again."

It took Auston a second to process what you had just said and wrap his head around the concept entirely. When you brought up the topic of having another baby one day, he didn't think you meant right then. But at the same time, he didn't care because there was a possibility he may have another little bean running around soon, and he loved that thought.

"Are you serious?" He finally breathed out and noticed just how anxious you seemed.

"I- yeah. I haven't been physically ill like I was when we found out I was pregnant with Mia, but I've been feeling off. I feel like there's just something going on with my body, and I mean, there's still the likelihood that I'm not pregnant again, but, my period is late and-."

"Hey, you don't have to justify yourself," Auston spoke up when you began rambling. You were thankful for how well he was handling what you said, but you still felt overly emotional about it as you shifted away from him and started petting Frank as a way to keep yourself from crying. However, it didn't take long for your husband to notice what you were doing. "Babe, come here. Talk to me."

He sat upright and moved to pull you close to him again. Once his arm was around your waist, though, he hesitated because he wasn't sure if you wanted your space or not, but when you didn't move away, he took that as a sign to continue.

You weren't sure why you were getting so worked up. For all you knew, it could have most definitely been pregnancy hormones, but you still weren't sure, and that's what was stressing you out.

"I just need to know, Auston," you whispered as you turned to face him again, and he didn't miss a beat by reaching up to wipe away a stray tear that was rolling down your cheek. "I need to know if I'm pregnant so bad, but at the same time, I don't want to."

"What do you mean?"

You sighed.

"I hate not knowing why I'm feeling the way that I am. If I'm not pregnant, then what's wrong with me? And it's so much more than that too. The thought of having another baby right now is scary to me. What if something happens while you're away or I just struggle because you're not here. Remember how stressed we were about that kind of thing with Mia? Sure it all worked out, but the thought still makes me nervous, and the timing would be completely different, seeing as it's November. You were in the off-season for pretty much the entire first half of my pregnancy last time, I had you with me when I felt like I needed it most. I don't know, I feel like I'm getting so worked up now, but I worry about these things, Aus."

"I understand," he nodded and looked away thoughtfully, the expression on his face changing. But you knew that look, he was internally blaming himself over what you had said, but you refused to let him. "I'm sorry you feel uneasy about this and that I can't always be here. I wish I could."

"I know you do, and that's enough, Auston. You're enough."

"It doesn't always feel like it, though. It's like I'm so much, Mia is growing up insanely fast, and I'm not always here for it all. Who's to say it won't be the same or worse when we do have another baby?"

"You're not missing anything, though. As much as I too wish you could be here all the time, you're doing what you love. Mia and I will always be cheering you on as you do that too. Just because you're away sometimes doesn't mean Mia is going to forget about you or love you any less. You know damn well how much of a daddy's girl she is. She can't contain her excitement when you come home from a road trip because she loves you so much. I just know that if and when we have any more kids, it'll be the same."

At that, he smiled before shaking his head.

"I thought I was the one trying to make you feel better."

You chuckled.

"That's kinda how we work, huh? Always levelling the other out in some way."

"Always," he replied before leaning forward to kiss you softly. "We just get each other like that. Which is also how I know there's something else that's bothering you. Come on, spill."

"You're very observant, Matthews," you mumbled while rolling your eyes.

"Please, you find it endearing."

"I find it annoying," you corrected, making him scoff as you chuckled at his reaction. "I'm kidding. But yeah, I guess there is something still bothering me, but it's hard to explain."

"Try me," Auston replied, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

"It's just, yes, there are things that make me feel uneasy about the possibility of being pregnant, but as I said earlier, I really would love to have more kids. I love thinking about Mia being a big sister one day, and the thought of growing our family together. But what if right now isn't the time to do so? Maybe there never will be a time."

"I don't think the timing is an issue," he stated and began tracing over your knuckles with his thumb. "I can't think of us having more kids being at a bad time, ever. It could be now, or it could be months or years down the road, and I'd still be happy. But only if you're ready, of course."

"I think I am," you told him honestly. "Which is also stressing me out because I do want to be pregnant again. It feels weird to say out loud, but yeah, I'm hoping that I am pregnant, however, maybe I'm not Auston. I have this gut feeling that I am, but I'm afraid I'm getting my hopes up. A lot of people struggle with getting pregnant, Auston. We can't assume we won't because we've already lucked out with our little girl."

You stopped and wiped away a tear you could feel that was about to break free again. Auston was quiet, but after a moment of processing what you just said, he finally spoke up again.

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"More than I probably should be. I just really care about it, maybe a little too much."

"There's no such thing as caring too much," he responded and nudged your shoulder so you'd look at him again. "You're just full of so much love, and that's fine. It's part of what makes you an amazing mother to our daughter. We're in this together. Although there may be some bumps along the way, everything is going to be fine. This may be one of those bumps, but it also might be what we're hoping for. Pregnant or not, though, we're going to be ok, Y/N."

It was impossible for you not to be full-on sobbing by that point. Auston always knew what to say when you needed to get out of your own head a little bit, and this situation was no exception. You weren't crying because you were upset or frustrated, you were just so damn emotional having conversations like this one, but so thankful to have him help you get through them.

Once Auston realized you were crying, he quickly pulled you into his embrace and held you tightly. He didn't say anything, just let you get those emotions out while gently rubbing your back and placing soft pecks on your head. After a minute or so went by, he began reassuring you and telling you how much he loved you all without letting you go. It was no wonder how, after that, you eventually started feeling better.

"Thank you, Auston, I needed that," you told him as you moved away, sniffling as you wiped away any stray tears.

"Of course, I'm always going to be here for you, babe. Don't feel like you have to bottle up anything, ok? We're a team."

"The best one," you stated before letting out a shaky breath. "I love you."

"And I love you," he replied while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "We're going to be fine."

"As long as we have each other."

"Exactly," he nodded with a smile.

You returned the smile before shrugging a little bit. "I guess I should go to the store and pick up some tests tomorrow."

"Or I could," he suggested. "Then, you can make an appointment with your doctor if you want, and we can go from there."

"Auston, I'm not going to make you go buy pregnancy tests for me," you told him and shook your head.

"You're not making me do anything, I'm offering to get them. Besides, aren't you and Mia busy tomorrow visiting with Steph?"

"Well, yeah, but-."

"Then I'll do it, Y/N, I'm sure I can manage to buy some pregnancy tests," he retorted. "I'm getting up early, and if Mia is awake, which we both know she will be, I'll take her with me. I want you to relax, alright? Don't worry, I'll take care of everything in the morning, and you can rest up. But, I won't get the tests if you don't want to take them."

"No, I do," you started. "I want to see what they say at least; I just don't want to do it alone."

"You won't have to. I'll be back with them before you even need to start getting ready, and although I have to leave on Sunday, we can still do this together. Deal?"

You smiled and looked down at his extended hand, chuckling at how he was going to make you shake in agreement for this game plan. But regardless, you took his hand and shook it, feeling even more nervous and excited than before.

"Deal."

~*~

The following morning was a bit of a whirlwind, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Your daily routine usually consisted of waking up early with Mia seeing as her sleeping schedule had her getting up around 8 every morning looking for something to eat. And although some days that seemed way too early, there weren't many things you loved more than going into your daughter's room and seeing her smile excitedly once she laid eyes on you.

She loved mornings and seeing her always put you in a good mood as you got her and yourself ready to start the day. But for this particular morning, you didn't have that.

As you slowly blinked your eyes open, you noticed how Auston was not asleep next to you. Although you were aware that he was getting up early, you still couldn't help the small pout that formed on your lips due to his absence.

You weren't even sure how long you'd slept until, but when you reached over to grab your cell phone off the bedside table to see it was almost 10, your eyes widened in a panic. Without a second thought, you sat right up and scrambled out of bed to go get to Mia.

It wasn't until you were about halfway through changing into some track pants and a hoodie that you heard a series of giggles come from downstairs, followed by Auston speaking in a dramatic voice. You let out a sigh of relief, reminding yourself that you weren't a terrible mother and that you had no reason to rush to your daughter's aid seeing as she was perfectly fine hanging out with her dad.

You were about to join them but were hit by an intense wave of nausea that had you rushing to the washroom as quickly as possible. You didn't end up getting sick, but it sure felt like you could, and as soon as you stood up straight again, your mind wandered to what you and Auston discussed the night before. That same thought stayed in your mind while you moved away from the toilet to brush your teeth.

What just happened wasn't the first time you'd felt ridiculously nauseous in the past few weeks, and you just knew it had to mean something. So, with a quick shake of your head, you rinsed off your toothbrush and mentally prepared yourself to head downstairs, wondering how the day's events would play out after talking with Auston again.

When you reached the bottom step, you were greeted by Frank, who looked up at you expectantly as he waited for some head rubs. After leaning down and giving him the attention he craved for a few minutes, you walked towards the living room where music, Auston's off-key singing, and Mia's laughter sounded, bracing yourself for what you were about to walk into.

Slowly, you peeked around the doorframe, hoping to go unnoticed for a little while longer as you peered into the room and observed as Auston held Mia, swaying with her as he sang along Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl. Thoroughly enjoying what you were witnessing, you moved further into the room and leaned against the frame with your arms crossed over your chest as the other two kept dancing around without a care in the world.

"You, my brown-eyed girl," Auston sang as he dipped Mia towards the ground before bringing her right back up again, earning another series of giggles from the toddler as she wrapped her arms around her dad's neck and snuggled closer to him with a huge smile. You couldn't help but feel your heart swell with affection as you watched your two favourite people interact the way they did, and didn't dare interrupt them. It was just too good seeing how strong of a bond those two had; however, it didn't take long for Mia to notice your presence lurking nearby.

"Mommy!" She exclaimed excitedly, wasting no time taking her head off Auston's shoulder so she could look at you better while reaching her hand outwards.

"And what am I?" Auston asked your daughter in a tone that made it seem like he was greatly offended. "We were having a great time, but that doesn't matter anymore cause your mom is here now, huh, punk?"

He then scrunched his face at her before bringing his hand up in a threatening way, then moving it to her belly and tickling until she squealed and giggled all over again.

"No, daddy!" Mia stated between laughs while trying to push his hand away, but Auston kept going. They carried on like that for another moment, before Mia looked at you again and decided she just was not having it anymore. "Mama!"

How she called out to you was like a mix of pouting and whining, something she tended to do when she wasn't getting her way. You and Auston expected that from an almost-two-year-old, but sometimes she was just so damn sassy, and it'd catch you both off guard.

"Woah, ok, alright," Auston said and moved to set Mia down. By that point, she was a walking machine and had no issue making the few steps she had to take to get to where you were standing. Once she reached you, she already had a smile on her face and was no longer frustrated as you leaned down to pick her up.

"Now, you know how I feel when you come home from away games, and she no longer wants anything to do with me," you teased your husband before looking at Mia as she clung onto you. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You love your daddy very much, don't you?"

"Ya," she responded and leaned against your shoulder, all while looking towards her dad knowingly.

The way Mia had Auston so effortlessly wrapped around her finger was a very amusing thing to see. Since the two of you started dating, you had seen how dead serious Auston could be in certain situations, but when it came to his daughter, that side of him was almost non-existent.

With him, Mia could get away with just about anything. He was always incredibly soft with her, and you knew how much he hated being the 'mean' parent when one of you had to be. On more than one occasion, he had guilted you into being the one to explain to Mia how something she did was bad. Although the two of you did work as a team to tackle the teaching and disciplining of your daughter, you still knew it was especially hard on him sometimes.

It wasn't like Mia had a favourite parent or anything either. She adored both you and Auston so, so much. When times came where she was a bit too sassy or was misbehaving, you hated having to not be cool and explain to her the way she was acting wasn't ok. But, it was all part of your parenting job. You and Auston were the ones responsible for Mia's development and wellbeing, and although that itself was a stressful thought sometimes, she always made it worth it.

At just 22 months, she already had such a big personality, and it always showed. It was never hard to tell what kind of mood she was in, or how she felt because those emotions were always being expressed, and you loved seeing the little person she was becoming with each passing day.

"Frank, mommy," Mia spoke up, snapping you out of your thoughts while pointing towards the Goldendoodle as he passed the two of you and headed towards the kitchen. "Frank, come back!"

"I think he wants something to eat, Hunny. What about you? Did hanging out with daddy all morning make you hungry too?"

"Mhm," she replied while nodding.

"Ok, well then, why don't we go get you some bananas, hmm?" You asked, and she nodded again. "Then we can watch a movie and play with Frank, all you want. Do you remember who we're going to visit later today?"

"Steph!"

"Yes!" You exclaimed and leaned down to peck her on the cheek, before lowering your voice to a whisper, but still loud enough that Auston could hear. "And don't tell your daddy, but I think Mitchy is going to be there too."

"Mitchy!" She squealed, making you chuckle.

"What?" Auston scoffed as he stepped closer to the two of you. "I thought you two and Steph were having a girl's day."

"We were originally, but Mitch isn't doing anything today," you told him. "After Mia has a nap, the plan was to go over to their house anyway, but now I think we're going to stay in and make tacos or something there instead of going out to eat. Come with us, if you're feeling up for it. Maybe we can invite them here."

"Well, you know I'm not one to turn down a good meal," he responded. "I have to run downtown real quick at some point today to pick up that new suit, but other than that, I was just going to hang out with Frank while you two were gone. I'd love to join."

"Perfect," you smiled as you cuddled closer to Mia and started making way to the kitchen to get your daughter her snack.

You moved around the large granite island smoothly as you walked to the fridge to grab some juice and a banana from where a bunch of them rested on the counter nearby. Just as you were about to grab the cutting board to start prepping the snack, Auston swooped in and took Mia from your hold to get her settled in her chair as you continued with what you were doing. You smiled at him thankfully before peeling the banana and cutting it up into slices for Mia to munch on, knowing it would keep her from getting hungry again until actual lunchtime.

Once you finished cutting the fruit, you put the slices on one of Mia's colourful plastic dishes and gave it to her before going back to make yourself something to eat as well.

"Babe, sit down, I can make us something," Auston spoke as he snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"You haven't eaten yet?" You asked as you spun around in his hold and let him push you gently back against the counter.

"No, wasn't that hungry. And I wanted to wait for you."

The next thing you knew, he was leaning down to catch your lips in a soft, but needy kiss. You smiled at the contact as you slowly moved your hands up his arms, before wrapping them around the back of his neck and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. After a few moments of doing that, you pulled away and smiled up to your husband.

"Good morning."

"Good morning to you, too," Auston replied with a goofy grin before pulling you into his embrace. You chuckled while shaking your head but soon relaxed as you rested against his chest and glanced over at Mia; your smile widening as you observed your daughter off in her own little world. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright," you told him. "Was a little nauseous when I first got up, but it passed fairly quickly."

He hummed in response and began rubbing up and down your back in a comforting manner. Nothing else was said between the two of you after that. You both found enough comfort in the other's presence while quietly observing Mia as she watched Frank, while he stared out the sliding glass doors at the birds roaming around in the backyard.

You were content. There wasn't one thing you didn't love about the little life you and Auston created together. It just seemed so perfect, but yet, you still felt like something was missing.

Your gaze then trailed over to the small breakfast table on the other side of the kitchen, where a white plastic bag with the logo of the pharmacy down the road sat. You didn't even have to ask Auston to know what was in the bag, but you still found yourself moving away from him and walking towards it. Auston followed and watched as you looked in the bag, and sure enough, inside, there were five different types of pregnancy tests.

"I didn't know what one to get," he spoke softly. "There were so many different brands and types. I kinda decided just to wing it and hope for the best."

"No, it's ok," you replied and turned back to face him. "I appreciate you picking these up for me."

"Of course. Don't want you to worry about a thing."

At that, you smiled before snapping your attention to Mia as she let out a loud noise.

"Frank!" She called, and you leaned over to see Frank leaving the room, much to your daughter's dismay.

"I'm convinced she loves him more than she does us sometimes," Auston whispered as he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

"Oh, shut up," you laughed and swatted his arm. "They're best friends."

Auston just chuckled and shook his head before standing up straight again and stepping towards Mia.

"All done with your banana, baby girl?"

"All done," she repeated while raising her arms as if to say she wanted out of her chair.

"I figured, seeing as half of it is on the floor," he teased as he leaned down to pick up the fallen fruit, before tossing them out and going back to pick Mia up and kiss her cheek. "Well, Miss Mia, why don't we go to wash your hands, then we can take Frank to the park, and when we come home, we can watch a movie."

"Lion, daddy?"

"Yes, of course, we can watch the Lion King… again."

"Solid plan, that'll wear her out a little bit," you joked as you filled a glass with water and sipped on it, mentally preparing yourself to take the pregnancy tests.

"Gotta get that nap in somehow," Auston responded with a wink as he grabbed a baby wipe and washed off Mia's hands before exiting into the hallway to get himself, and your daughter dressed to go outside.

"For our sanity and hers, yes," you chuckled and followed after them.

"Mommy come?" You heard Mia ask as Auston zipped up her winter coat.

"No, sweetie, I'm going to stay here and make breakfast for your dad and me. But when you get back, I'll have your blanket and stuffy all set up for your movie."

"I thought I was making breakfast," Auston said and turned back to face you.

"Chill, Matthews, I got it," you responded. "Don't need you burning our toast to a crisp like you did the other day."

"Not my fault, the setting was so high," he grumbled and rolled his eyes. He then set Mia down to put on his coat and grab Frank's leash so the three could head on out, but for some reason, he seemed a little hesitant to go.

And you knew exactly why.

"Auston, I'm going to wait until you're back to take those tests," you told him. "We're in this together, remember?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "We'll be back in like 20 minutes."

"Awesome gives me enough time to make some food and drink more water. See you three in a little bit."

"Bye, mommy!" Mia called as Auston opened the front door, and she began following him and Frank outside.

"Bye, baby," you said and stood there smiling until the door closed, and you were on your own. "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

Just like Auston had said, he, Mia and Frank was all back around 20 minutes later. In that time to yourself, you downed three glasses of water and cooked some bacon and eggs. However, you seemingly lost your appetite when it came to actually eating anything.

"Aus, I think I'm going to take those tests now," you said after a few minutes of picking at the food on your plate. The two of you were sitting at your kitchen's little breakfast bar, facing the living room so you'd both be able to keep an eye on Mia as she sat on the couch watching the Lion King, and your nerves were just getting too bad to wait any longer. "My anxiety is through the roof right now."

He slowly nodded in response, and you could tell he was thinking about what to say next. After taking a sip of his water, he glanced over at you and spoke up.

"Do you want your space?"

"Yeah," you told him honestly. "I'll come to get you once I'm done."

"Ok," he smiled and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Leave your plate; I'll clean up. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

You stood up from the stool and walked over to where the pharmacy bag still sat. After grabbing it, you glanced back to the living room to check on Mia one last time before walking down the hall to the main floor washroom and doing what you needed to do.

About ten minutes later, you left the washroom with your phone in hand and a timer set. You remained quiet as you entered the living room and crawled into the spot beside Auston, where he sat on the couch. He didn't say anything, He just pulled you closer and let you cuddle into his side, knowing all that needed to be said would happen in the next few minutes. He watched as you kept tapping your phone screen to life, anxiously counting down the seconds to when the two of you could go see what each of the tests said.

Mia was oblivious to everything going on. She was very quiet, laying a few feet away from you on the couch, cuddling with Frank and her stuffed whale, while fighting extremely hard to keep her eyes open as Timon and Pumba started singing Hakuna Matata. The walk sure did its job in tiring her out enough to take a nap, and with each passing moment, you could see her eyes getting droopier until finally, they closed completely.

And then your alarm went off.

You and Auston both jumped slightly at the sudden noise, before instinctively looking over to see if it had woken Mia up. Luckily it didn't, and once you realized that, you both slowly glanced back at each other knowingly.

"Ready?" Auston asked.

"Yeah," you spoke quietly. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The two of you stood up then and went over to place some pillows near Mia. She wasn't much of a mover when she slept, and the couch cushion was wide enough that she shouldn't accidentally roll off onto the floor, but still, you and Auston were both careful and made sure to plan for the worst in case it were ever to happen. Auston then placed a small blanket over her for if she got cold. Then, he made sure to pet Frank before linking his hand with yours and guiding you back down the hallway towards the washroom.

You had left the door open and could easily see the four tests you did sitting where you left them on the counter and didn't know what to feel. You saved the fifth one on purpose for if you needed further confirmation of whether you were indeed pregnant or not, and after one final glance at Auston, you stepped into the room to see what each one said.

After glancing down at the first test, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. There was no plus or minus symbol, no message on the tiny screen indicating what you wanted to know so bad, no nothing, and that didn't sit right with you. Without even thinking, you reached out and grabbed Auston's hand, hoping for some reassurance because you could already feel your hope slipping away, and then he spoke up.

"Babe, look at the other three."

So, you did, and sure enough, each one stated that you were indeed pregnant again.

"Oh, my God," you gasped as a sob involuntarily left your mouth. You immediately moved a hand up to cover your mouth and look at Auston with watery eyes before pulling you in for a tight hug. "We're having another baby."

"We're going to be parents again, Y/N. It doesn't seem real."

"It is," you blubbered and squeezed him even more. "I'm so happy Auston; I just had a feeling that I was and-."

"I know, I know," he soothed while rubbing his hand up and down your back. You couldn't tell with how your face was buried against the fabric of the hoodie he wore, but he was smiling so damn wide. He was ecstatic and instinctively wanted to know more. How far along were you? When would the doctor predict your due date would be? And most importantly, was the baby healthy?

Auston had so many questions, but he was aware that it wasn't the time to ask them. He knew this was going to be yours and his little secret for the time being. Although he was content with that, he was just so excited and couldn't wait to see how the rest of how everything would play out.

And neither could you.

#nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #auston matthews imagines #nhl imagine #auston matthews fanfiction #hockey imagines #toronto maple leafs imagine #hockey imagine #auston matthews imagine #hockey rpf #hockey fanfiction #auston matthews #nhl rpf #nhl headcanon

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Sinbound (1/8)

Daniel Jones x Reader

5k; Content warnings: Spoilers for The Report. Mentions of torture/violence, but nothing explicit.

Tumblr Masterlist // Also Available on AO3

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

Two years. That’s how long it’s been, up to this moment.

Two years in this basement, surrounded by concrete walls and the faces of ghosts staring into his very soul. It’s haunting, being down here, Dan thinks. Walking empty halls in the middle of the night, the way that sounds echo and come from all directions at once, everywhere and nowhere.

He walks the halls now, something sour sitting in the pit of his stomach, something close to panic, he thinks. He’s not going to let it turn into anything real, he doesn’t have the time for that.

It feels like he doesn’t have the time for anything, anything except for this report.

He’s the last to leave the office, the last to leave the building, just as he is every night. Usually he’d stay later, but as he scans his badge to open the door that leads to the lobby of this dark cinder block building, his eyes struggle to focus. He must look particularly rough, because as he does scan himself out, the good-natured security guard gives him a pointed look.

“Do you ever sleep, Dan?” The security guard asks, and despite the exhaustion in Dan’s bones, he manages a friendly smile.

“I used to, it got in the way of work.” He jokes, earning a smile back.

“Anything in that bag contain the real names of CIA officers, assets, or partners, or any information that would be in violation of the agreement between the Central Intelligence Agency and the United States Senate?” The security guard rattles off the protocol, a memorized passage that both he and Dan know by heart at this point.

“Have a good night, Jay.” Dan doesn’t answer the question, he doesn’t have to, he doesn’t need to.

Instead, with some kind parting words from Jay as permission to leave, he walks out through the door and into dark damp streets of the real world, a world which has passed him by, two years shot in the blink of an eye.

Dan sits in his car and sighs, for a minute or two, or twenty. He rubs the back of his hand against his eyes, blinks a couple of times. He’s been debating getting a pair of glasses, the new kind that block out the blue light from screens – god knows he could use that. He’s more tired than usual, and with good reason, he sighs. He looks at himself in the rearview mirror, sees the bags under his eyes.

“You wouldn’t look good with glasses.” He shakes his head at himself, dismissing the thought.

He sits in his car and folds his arms over the steering wheel, rests his head down on top of them and wills himself not to scream. He thinks back over the events of the day, of the last couple hours, thinks about how he’s going to have to go through this alone now. In retrospect, he should have known this was coming. He just had hoped…well. He had only hoped it wouldn’t be so soon, wouldn’t be right when they were finally starting to connect dots, piece together the puzzle, wouldn’t be right when they were only just beginning.

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

Dan noticed April gently approaching him, her arms crossed over her chest. He glanced at the clock, realized he’d been reading this document for nearly three hours, picking it apart, studying it. He’s glad for April’s audience, and he didn’t waste much time launching into what he’d just learned, knowing that she would be just as interested in it as him.

“Did you know that the CIA testified in 1978 before Congress on the subject of – of ‘coercive physical interrogation techniques’ in Latin America? And how they concluded that they were proven to be ineffective – that the prisoners would lie just to make it stop?” Dan scoffed, frustrated, shaking his head.

April had shifted in her spot a little then, had cleared her throat, but Dan wasn’t entirely paying attention, not even when she tried to interject with,

“Dan, there’s something I have to say – ”

“But before they did it in Latin America they did it in Vietnam! It didn’t work then and it isn’t working now and – ”

“Dan, Dan I’m leaving.” April had said, with such finality that it shut Dan up. She had held her ground, her arms crossed over her chest, in that dark cold basement, and told him, “The study, I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry. I got a job offer and I’ll be packing up once the Thanksgiving break finishes.”

Dan held his breath, wondered if this were another one of his nightmares. He’d been having them more and more recently, but this was never one of the plot points.

He blinked, stared at her and then at his computer, watched as the screen flickered for a moment, as if it too were uncomfortable, stressed.

“Thanksgiving.” Dan had replied (and in his car, Dan wants to kick himself for making such a point of himself, for proving their point because he had stupidly said), “That’s – okay well that still gives us a couple months and – ”

“It’s November, Dan. Thanksgiving’s next week.” Julian had gently reminded him.

“…Right.” He was deflated, embarrassed, and faced with the reality that maybe he was losing his grip on reality. He can’t look at her, at April. The screen flickered, and he sighed. “Right I – I…Right. Okay.”

“I’m sorry, I am, it’s just that…well you said it yourself, the CIA knew decades ago that this shit didn’t work. They knew and they’ve known the whole time that their program is ineffective now but who is listening to us? Who is waiting for us to come out with all of this?” April tried to explain, even though she didn’t really need to. Her voice was soft and gentle as she placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to talk some sense into him, “We’ve been down here for two years, Dan, the three of us in this basement, typing up thousands and thousands of pages. No one is waiting for us.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? That was the cold hard truth that Dan refused to accept. Every day, Monday through Friday and weekends, he’d been there. They’d all been there, working and working and working until their eyes grew sore, until their backs went stiff and their wrists ached, scrounging together as much information as possible – while under impossible restraints.

No cooperation from the CIA.

No cooperation from the DOJ.

Three people in a basement, trying their best to bring justice to an unjust situation, and being vilified for it.

Dan sighs, both in his memory of the exchange, and in his car.

“I understand. I do.” He said, because he did. He didn’t like it, he wouldn’t accept it, but he understood it. That was enough for April, enough for Julian, enough for them when Dan nodded and sighed once again, glancing at the calendar. “Thanksgiving.”

“I’m sorry.” April had said again, before going back to her desk.

Dan locked eyes with one of the mugshots on the wall, and he thinks that it’s not him that April should be apologizing to.

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

He starts the car, smacks a palm against his cheeks lightly to shake himself out of this funk. He’s just tired, he knows. He’s tired and it’s been a long day, that’s all. The dashboard lights up and he’s relieved to see it’s not that late, not really. It’s only eleven, he’s stayed later before. Washington D.C. is never not busy, but Dan finds that later in the evening like this, on a weekday no less, there’s always a little less traffic, for which he’s appreciative.

His stomach is appreciative too, it growls and growls the entire drive home, so much so that Dan makes a pit stop at a Chinese takeout place, lured in by the idea of fresh eggrolls and beef lo mein.

The neon sign blazes brightly in the night sky. Something about the world when it’s just finished raining makes everything more rich, more vibrant, Dan thinks. Maybe it’s got something to do with the way that the water on the ground reflects the colors. Maybe he’s just being sentimental, he doesn’t know.

“Mr. Jones! You’re here early.” Cindy, the young woman behind the counter greets him when Dan walks through the door.

“They let me out for good behavior.” His joke falls flat, just a little. Still, she looks at him with a fond smile and shakes her head, before ringing up his usual.

He’s been coming here at least once a week every week ever since this thing started. He never really meant to fall into the habit of relying on takeout, but when one works fifteen-eighteen hour days every day, the prospect of cooking and cleaning up your own kitchen quickly grows less than ideal.

Dan watches her for a while, as he hands over his credit card. He thinks about how she always smiles at him, and wonders if she smiles at everyone else too, or if that’s something just for him. He shakes his head slightly, chastising himself. Of course it’s not just for him, they’ve not spoken beyond the typical small talk while he sits around and waits for his order. She never initiates conversation past that of the weather, and why should she? She’s busy, Dan thinks, busy with the restaurant, with her life.

He tries not to let the thought depress him, the thought that maybe if it weren’t for this report, he could be out busy living his life too. Tries not to think about how he could be married by now, have kids by now. He tries not to think about the girlfriend he used to have, before all of this, tries not to think about how she left him because well, really, he had left her first. He wasn’t a very good partner, he knows – how could he have been? Holed up in that basement, unable to talk about anything he did.

Cindy hands him the neatly packaged bundle of his dinner, and he thanks her for it. She doesn’t know that he goes back to his apartment and eats by himself in the dark every night, but then again, she doesn’t have to. She gives him another one of her smiles as he offers a little wave goodbye, and he’s walking to the parking lot, the interaction and the thoughts behind him.

It’s worth it, he thinks, as he walks back to his car. One day, one day soon, Dan knows it’ll all be worth it.

Climbing into his car, Dan notices something.

Or maybe, he thinks he notices something.

There’s a car in the parking lot that wasn’t there before, was it? He doesn’t remember anyone getting out, no one came into the restaurant while he was there, and no one had left when he showed up. It’s black, with windows so tinted that he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to look in even on a bright sunny day. Something about that churns his stomach some more.

“You need to eat and sleep.” Dan shakes the paranoia out of his head, it wouldn’t do to dwell, not right now, not after he’s poured a fresh new batch of images of torture behind his eyelids, dancing in front of his vision whenever he seems to blink. Wouldn’t do to dwell on the thought that maybe he’s being followed.

He keeps an eye on the car though, as he pulls out of the parking lot. It doesn’t move, and he releases the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, as he turns some corners and goes down some back roads, ends up in front of the building he calls home.

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

It’s not that he can’t afford a house, because he can. He makes a significant amount of money, being a Senate staffer at his level. He could afford something nice in a nice neighborhood, green lawn and driveway out front, maybe an inground pool out back for the summer time. He can afford it, he just doesn’t see the point in it, not right now, not with the report.

The apartment though, isn’t bad -- it’s not! It’s a very nice, luxury apartment, with a doorman and a parking garage and everything.

“How’s it going Edgar?” Dan asks, as he passes said doorman, a young chipper guy who Dan wouldn’t have expected to have such a mature name.

Maybe if he and Edgar were friends, he’d call him Eddie. Dan’s not so sure what other nicknames there are for something old fashioned like that. Maybe if they were friends, he’d tell Dan.

“Not too bad Mr. Jones, yourself?” Edgar doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s practically hiding the takeout behind his briefcase, and Dan appreciates it immensely.

“Not too bad.” He echoes with a smile, before stepping into the safety and security of the lobby and making his way over to the elevators, his polished shoes clacking on polished tile as he gives a warm, “Stay dry out there.”

The elevator is empty, thankfully. He leans against the mirror wall and sighs deeply, groans just because he can. He lives on the eighth floor of the building, which gives him about ten seconds of peace, before the doors open again. He likes his apartment building, likes the doorman and the elevator. He likes how each floor has its own little display when he exits the elevator, decorated for whatever holiday is up next.

The lobby’s display probably should have clued Dan in to the fact that it was already November, but he can’t really be blamed for not noticing. He notices now though, and he can’t deny that he’s impressed. There’s a large wicker cornucopia on the antique wooden credenza which sits flush against the wall opposite of the elevator.

In the cornucopia are fake fruits and vegetables in a beautiful array of autumnal colors, reds oranges yellows and plum. He reaches out to pick up one of the faux squashes, impressed by the weight of it. He’d been halfway expecting cheap styrofoam, but these were more solid than that. Idly Dan realizes that he must have completely skipped over Halloween, and something about that puts a bit of a pep in his step.

He leaves the lobby and turns around the corner, goes down the hall until he’s faced with his front door. He’s lucky that there aren’t too many apartments on this floor, his neighbors are down a ways on either side. He likes the privacy, not that he uses it much. Putting his key in the lock and pushing the door open, he can’t really remember a time where he spent an entire day lounging in his living room.

Which is a shame, Dan thinks, because just as he does every time he comes home, he finds that he really does like this place. It’s bright, inviting. Not clean or sterile, nothing overly modern or minimalist, but he has enough dark and gloom at work, he doesn’t need that here, not in his one-bedroom apartment. The walls are a light grey color, the kitchen and living room accented with blue and cool tones. He likes blue, Dan does.

All his appliances are stainless steel, to go along with the color palette, and he likes that too. He thinks it makes him feel more like an adult, like a real person. And he is, isn’t he? Daniel Jones, Senate Staffer. That’s a real person name and a real person job, isn’t it?

Why does it all feel like a sham?

“Eat, and sleep.” He mutters to himself as he steps out of his shoes and puts them neatly in the closet by the door.

He rests his briefcase down on the kitchen counter, brings the takeout over to the rectangular dining table. He didn’t know what he was thinking, buying this dinner table. Maybe he thought he’d have guests over, women over. Now it just feels empty, a table too big for just one person.

Still, it gives him enough room to spread out, which is nice. He keeps the table set all the time, the way they do in old television sitcoms and in movies. He loves movies, and he puts one on now. Nothing high action or stressful, no he’s not got the emotional or mental bandwidth for that these days. Instead, he scrolls through his OnDemand and lets something from the ‘30s dance across the screen in black and white, while he eats his dinner.

Dan tips the takeout onto the plate in front of him – one of the things he refuses to do is eat straight out of the container. Something about that feels like crossing a line into some kind of downward spiral. He can wash one dish, one fork and knife, one glass. He can do that, he has the time for that.

He’s not got time for much, but he’s got the time for that.

Dan eyes his briefcase, thinks about what Jay had said. He’d never taken anything from work before, and he didn’t plan on taking anything from work anytime soon. No, everything in his briefcase was allowed to be there, what was in his apartment was allowed to be there.

“It’s for the best anyway,” Dan says to himself, as the music from the movie swells and flows, a beautiful tap number numbing his mind from the repeated images that are so keen to flash. “Imagine if you brought that shit home more than you already do.”

He scoffs at the idea, at smuggling something out of the basement, out of the building. What would he even do with it? Where would he even put it? No, he thinks, everything that’s important will stay in the office where it’s the safest. The CIA isn’t allowed inside that room, that’s part of the agreement that they made.

“Good thing too, they wouldn’t be too fucking thrilled to read the documents I’m reading.” He’s stopped caring about talking to himself a long time ago, and now that April and Julian will be leaving him, he figures he’ll need the good company, or else he may really go insane.

He sighs, sighs at the knowledge that they’re leaving.

Two years they’d been together, the three of them. Dan’s only a little upset – he’s more scared. Scared of having to go down this rabbit hole alone. Scared of wasting himself away in the basement, surrounded by the ghosts of men who were put through conditions so inhumane that it wakes Dan in the middle of the night, throat hoarse, screaming and raw. What’s worse is he’s scared that they’re right, that no one will care.

But Dan cares. Dianne cares. It’s enough to know that Dianne’s got his back, that’s enough.

Still, they’d gotten a lot accomplished in those two years.

It had started of course, with the tapes.

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

“What tapes?” Dan had asked, a confused frown on his face.

Dan had been in the middle of a meeting when Marcy, Chief of Staff to Senator Dianne Feinstein, had called him out for a moment or two, a folded newspaper in her hands. Dan recognized it, the New York Times, and it was opened to a ground-breaking story of coverups and espionage. He stood in Dianne’s office and scanned over the small print of the story, growing more and more confused with each word he read.

“Evidently, the CIA destroyed tapes of interrogations, interrogations that had been conducted on al-Qaeda detainees.” Marcy said, but nothing rang a bell for Dan.

“Does – did the Intel Committee know that there even were tapes?” He had to ask, wondering if he was simply out of the loop, or if this was about to become something much larger than it already was.

When Dianne shook her head and clasped her hands together behind her desk, when she pressed her lips into a thin line of frustration of her own, Dan knew that it was the latter.

“No, this New York Times story is the first we’ve heard of it. I want you to find out what was on those tapes and why they were destroyed. We’d like you to lead an investigation, Dan.” She spoke clearly, always had, Dianne did. Dan appreciated that, appreciated her candidacy.

It didn’t lessen his confusion, however.

“But if the tapes were destroyed then how do I – ” He started, handing Marcy back the newspaper with a thankful nod.

“Written records. The CIA says they have written records of what was on the tapes, thousands of pages. I want you to find out what it is they actually have, and read every word of it. I want to know what else they’re hiding.” Dianne instructed, and the weight of the task was enough to make Dan stand up a little straighter.

The concept of going through a thousand pages of written records of interrogations had, at the time, seemed like the most intimidating and overwhelming undertaking Dan would have gone through in his life. Oh, if only he had known what he was getting himself into, if only he had had a shred of a clue.

“Yes, Senator.” He agreed anyway, knowing the stress this was bound to bring.

And stressful it had been, but he had done it. He had found horribly disturbing materials indicative of the conditions in the CIA Detention and Interrogation program. He had read those thousands of pages, and he had relayed them to Dianne, and in the end, despite it all, the findings had remained classified.

But through the tapes, the door to the greater EIT Program report had been opened.

Dan of course was the immediate first choice to lead the investigation, considering he already had the security clearances as a result of working on the tapes case. And he had been happy to do it, happy to push forward – the tapes might remain classified, but if he could expose these conditions, if he could bring this to light, then that wouldn’t be in vain.

None of the suffering and illegal practices would have happened in vain.

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

It hadn’t been easy in the beginning, dealing with the CIA. Although, Dan huffs out a little laugh to himself as he watches the movie, when was dealing with the CIA ever easy? From the very first day they’d proven themselves to be smug bastards who held themselves above the law, the very thing Dan was trying to convict them of.

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

The first day he was given a very brief tour of the office, an off-site in Virginia where he would have to commute. It wasn’t a long drive, part Dan already knew that the drive would feel ten times longer after a grueling day of uncovering whatever bullshit the CIA was trying to hide.

He had been met by a middle-aged man named Sean Murphy, who had brought him inside. They had shaken hands, and Sean wasted very little time, in that way that CIA agents tended to do. They were brusque, the lot of them, Dan thought. He wasn’t particularly a fan, but whether that was because he was with the FBI for four years, or because he’d never had a good interaction with a CIA agent, was still to be seen.

“The room we’ve designated for you is SCIF; no phone reception, no photos, you know the drill.” Sean had led him down down down dark stairwells and corridors, deeper and deeper into the belly of the building.

Part of Dan wondered if they’d given him such a shitty space out of spite. It seems like something they would do, make the investigation as passive-aggressively frustrating as possible.

“Yes and per the requirements, the room is completely off limits to everyone aside from Committee personnel?” Dan kept his tone light, despite the literal darkness they were descending into. He was relieved to hear Sean’s hum of agreement.

“Absolutely. No one inside without your permission.” The Agent nodded, arriving finally at the door.

It’s metal, windowless, and locked with a combination pad. There’s a small placard which read: United States Senage Intelligence Committee Staff Only. By Order of the Director of Central Intelligence.

Sean pointed to the sign, as if to appease Dan, and Dan only nodded in response. Sean punched in the code on the combination pad, and opened the door for Dan to bare witness to this cell of a room that he was to spend the next foreseeable future working out of.

It was a spotless room, grey from floor to ceiling. Cold and sterile, no windows, no other doors, just six desks and six computer monitors.

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

Somewhere in the present, Dan grimaces at how he once had five other people working with him on this shitshow. How he had had two other Democrats and three Republicans, an attempt for bi-partisan facts. And now it was just him, all alone.

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

“Computers?” Dan had asked, running his hand over the top of one of them. He was glad to see that at least the space was clean – no dust swiped off when he traced his fingers lightly.

“All right here at your disposal. You get your own dedicated server just for you. We’ll be updating the database as we go, the files will be loaded onto the server as we collect them from across the Agency.” Sean had crossed his arms over his chest, and Dan nodded, understandable.

“Perfect, we’ll want all relevant documents as soon as possible, get this thing underway.” He put his hands on his hips, if Sean wanted to psyche him out with body language, Dan would show that he wasn’t to be trifled with, at least in this small way.

“Well, you know that could take some time, we have to vet it first.” Sean shrugged, “There’s a lot to go through and – ”

“Vet? No, Director Panetta agreed to give us everything pertaining to the program. Everything.” Dan interrupted him immediately, brows furrowed. “Why – who would be vetting it?”

There was simply no way that Dan could run a thorough investigation if materials were being withheld from the Committee, and if the CIA were the only ones allowed to vet CIA documents due to the sensitive nature of their material, then Dan could only imagine what they would withhold. The displeasure must have been clear as day across Dan’s face, because Sean only shrugged again.

“Listen Mr. Jones, we understand your situation, but it’s a big Agency. We have to make sure you don’t get anything you’re not supposed to.” He tried to explain, and Dan bit his tongue, instead turning to survey the room once again.

“There’s no printer.” He noticed aloud, “No paper?”

Sean had almost laughed at him for that, and still to this day, that makes Dan uneasy.

“No documents are allowed to leave the room without CIA approval. As I’m sure you can understand, Mr. Jones, paper has a way of getting people in trouble at our place.” Sean had said in a hushed voice, a conspiratorial voice, a voice that made Dan want to grit his teeth.

“And I’m sure that you can understand, Mr. Murphy, paper is how we keep track of laws, at ours.” Dan had replied seriously.

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

He should have known then, that they weren’t going to play nicely.

Two years, and they’d only been getting more and more difficult.

Dan finishes up his dinner relatively quickly, sleep dragging in his bones. He’d been up at the office bright and early at eight o’clock in the morning and he was now nearing on midnight. Bringing his dishes to the kitchen, he quickly but efficiently washes them and sets them on the drying rack near the sink, never bothering to use the dishwasher. He doesn’t need to, when he’s the only one here.

He goes straight to the bathroom, turns the shower on as hot as it will go. The hamper was only about half full – or was it half empty? – so he knows he can hold off doing laundry for another day or two at least, as he dumps his clothes from the day into the little heap.

Naked, Dan stands in front of the mirror and looks at himself, really looks at himself. He’s attractive, he thinks, in that way that he hopes so, anyway. He maintains his workout routine, which is probably a good idea, considering how much time he spends just sitting around and eating takeout. Maybe he’ll go for a run tomorrow. He thinks he deserves a day off, it’s not like he’s got to show up and report to anyone other than Dianne, but she isn’t expecting an update until after the holiday weekend anyway.

“Run tomorrow,” Dan tells himself in the mirror, lifts his arms and flexes his muscles just to check himself out, make sure that he knows what he looks like, makes sure he’s real, a real person. Steam from the shower begins to curl along the glass, and Dan knows it’s hot enough for him to get in and scrub the day away. “Shower, sleep, and then run tomorrow.”

He makes sure there’s a nice clean towel nearby, and sighs out a breath of relief as he steps under the scalding spray. He lathers up his shampoo and breathes breathes breathes in the calming scent of bergamot and sandalwood, pretends he’s down by the beach somewhere instead of here alone in his apartment. He’s too tired to jerk off, which feels a little sad but not sad enough to bother Dan too much.

He’ll indulge himself tomorrow, he decides as he rinses the suds away. Tomorrow will be a better day than this one, it has to be. He’ll make it so.

After washing his body and applying his conditioner, he steps out of the shower and wraps himself up, pads across the little hall to his bedroom. He slips into warm pajamas and is about to pull back the covers of his neatly made bed, when he notices a piece of paper resting in the tray of his printer/fax machine.

Dan frowns, how long had that been there?

He hesitantly, very hesitantly, approaches the fax machine. It’s a blank piece of paper, nothing on it – aft first glance. Dan thinks he catches a flash of something, maybe its his eyes playing tricks on him, he doesn’t know. But he turns on the lamp near his printer and holds the piece of paper up and his blood runs cold when he reads:

56 Signers of the Declaration of Independence Memorial

Constitution Gardens, Washington, DC 20245

Sunday 11:30:00 AM

Destroy this.

He doesn’t know what compels him, but he rushes to the window. He doesn’t open it, doesn’t do anything so foolish as that, but he peels back the curtain just enough to see it, to see that black car with its tinted windows, driving away.

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

Tagging some pals! If you’d like to be added or taken off this taglist, please just let me know! @clumsycopy @whiskey-bumblebee @umbrielchip000 @supremehaunter @kyloawaken @candycanes19 @thegreenmatt @ladygrey03 @zimmerxman @niniita-ah @autumnlovesadam @solotriplets @steeevienicks @aweirdlookingtree @heldcaptivebychaos @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @adamsnacc-kler @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @peterisparker @goodboybensolo @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @okk–maaan @flapjacques @callmemania-pls @theold-ultraviolence @og-selene @schopenhauerdeathsquad @nekonaomitard @feminine-machinegun @carloswilliamcarlos @contesa-lui-alucard

#daniel jones #daniel jones the report #daniel jones x reader #daniel jones/reader #the torture report #the report #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver the report #my writing #sinbound #daniel jones x you #daniel jones/you

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dansnaturepictures · 3 years

Text

Quick note about a change of format to my end of year wildlife/photography highlights of the year blogs

People I have known for a long time on Twitter and Tumblr may recall that at the end of the year I always do a series of blogs exploring my highlights of the year and marking the year that has just unfolded in my wildlife and photography hobby. What many won’t know as much it that I write the blogs up over the course of the year, getting into a pattern year on year of starting as early as March/April and adding to the various highlights after each wildlife/photography trip from a certain point in the year onwards or this year with working from home and all the extra wildlife/photography trips on lunch breaks and in evenings making additions weekly on a weekend morning.

With the photos I produce on days going up and up and me branching out into other areas of wildlife a lot I have found over the past few months whilst laying the foundations for the 2021 edition of the highlights blogs, which I already expanded to fifteen themes from the usual ten based on working from home still and all the extra things to write about, this has taken up quite a bit of time and has started to feel a little chore like, and like I was repeating information already posted about to go out at a later date. Over the years whilst I have immensely enjoyed creating and sharing the highlights blogs, I do think they have got a bit long. So with whilst I don’t know how much or whether I will continue working from home going forward, signs that my high photo yields and multi bands of my interest being something that seems here to stay, I have decided to revamp the highlights blogs and make them a more reflective and concise exploration of the highlights and key points of my wildlife and photography year in December.

I shall detail the new format below, however since March this year I have spent considerable time writing up 12 so far of the intended highlights posts in the usual format for this December. I do not want these to go to waste and do want the format to have a swansong, but whilst I am still working from home daily the time it takes to contribute to the blogs on the days is heightened so I do need one less thing to do which not writing up and making notes to write up the bits each evening will allow for immediately. So in December and due to amount actually the tail end of November too this year is my plan it will be a hybrid highlights blogs, the 12 blogs (and some of them have part one and two so are the same theme) in the old format charting experiences in my year from January to early August, then (as I’ll still probably write up these new posts each November or bits of spare time from the summer onwards and time to go out) some of (eight maximum) the new format of things that happened August-November. There may be some currently shorter bogs where I combine the two a little. Plus the usual introduction blog on the first night which will also explain.

So in the new format I will strip it back to basics of what I wanted to do when I first had the idea to do blogs on my ten highlights of my wildlife and photography year in 2013. From next year, I will do ten blogs in which I will mention ten key moments of my year on a different theme. The themes will mostly be an area of my interest so birds, butterflies, mammals, flowers, etc. with also a summary of holidays that year and one for ten key day trips and there may be different themes year to year. Within the blogs it will just be a little bit of text about each highlight/moment, a picture I’ve taken in the photoset corresponding to it or for some a picture from the same day if more applicable (I may see a rare bird and have it as a moment and not photograph it for example), and also a link to the or a daily blog I did about the moment at the time. In addition, I will also have a summary/my wildlife and photography year in numbers type highlughts blog that may say some of the key themes etc. of the year and will definitely have summaries of how my bird and butterfly year lists went comparing to previous years, key themes and journeys and also the list of my key bird and butterfly species seen that year possibly mimicking the wildlife sightings summary in my daily blog more. I don’t want to make this too long and these are the main two year lists of mine so will spark most for me to talk about but there is potential for it branch into my other year lists. This is one of the bits I enjoy doing most in the highlight blogs each year and a bit I think I can keep concise.

These eleven posts will be alongside my end of year photo tweets on Dans_Pictures with four of my favourite photos across categories that I took that year which I do in December.

So like I said at the end of this year, it’ll be twelve with some quite long posts about different highlights of my year then eight with this new format, I shall just call them Wildlife/Photography highlights posts and not specify a number. But for the twelve original format ones I will call them The story of... and the other eight will say 10 key or 10 standout... to vary things maybe.

This feels very much like when I ended the highlights blogs’ former Twitter partner my photo of the year and week choosing in 2017 in that it was becoming chore like and taking up a lot of time. However for these what is playing on my mind slightly is each December I am humbled by the interactions I get during these. So for the latter half of this year’s posts and going forward I will still call them my Wildlife/Photography highlights blogs of the year for those that may enjoy this and that’s why and with me being how I am too and liking to send the years out with a bang and reflect they had to stay in some format. I hope the new format allows me to be more considerate of my year to help me remember it even more rather than just chucking endless bits of text together late at night after a busy evening of processing and uploading photos. I am clear that working from home every day heightens what I have now, but prior to that the photo yields increasing and exploring other areas of nature were happening maybe just to a slower rate and I felt for years the highlights blogs were getting a bit long and repetitive to my daily blogs. So I think if in 2022 I was to be back in the office fully, this format change would still be useful. I think this move shall also make me able to perhaps pump more time into my daily blogs and consider different ways to write things or even on busy nights whether I need to do them the same night etc. as I still love and am inspired by doing this and can possibly free up time for more wildlife/photography posts on subjects other than what I saw on my day in bits of downtime.

Thanks once again for all your support for my posts, photos and tweets.

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ggukcangetit · 4 years

Text

Dreamcatchers 6

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: it’s been a while since i posted and even longer since i updated this fic but its still here and so am i! lol. updates are not gonna be very frequent but i have a list of works in progress that i plan to finish so there will be something or the other being posted at the most random moments.

also, reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

21st December

"Is this how you conduct a sample analysis?! Where did you even train? I've half a mind to report you and get you kicked out!!"

Yuri stopped at her desk, surprised to hear Seulgi's yelling so loudly that she could be heard all the way from the floor above. She was usually extremely calm and even-tempered, but the past couple of days had seen her irritable, snappy, and downright furious.

"Dr. Ahn sounds really angry," whispered Jisoo, clutching a file close to her chest. "I've never heard her yell at anybody before. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure everything's fine," said Jeon, walking over to his desk and dropping a bunch of files on it. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless. They walked outside, standing near a clump of trees outside of earshot of anyone in the station.

"Guess who I've just brought in on suspicion of murder for the 2nd Nov case?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"No!" gasped Yuri. "Minhyuk?"

"Yep. He's been in the country for a while now. Fancy giving me a hand with the interview?"

"Me? I mean," she bit her lip. "I wasn't part of the original investigation."

"I know, but in light of what you've found out and the fact that you're now my partner, Goh thinks it's okay."

"You told Goh?!"

"I had to. I can't restart the investigation without his permission."

Jeon stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge her reaction. "So, what do you say?"

"Alright. Let's nail this bastard."

Ahreum was late. She had a meeting with one of her professors to decide on which medical stream she'd specialize in. Despite using forensics as an excuse to distract Seulgi, she was seriously considering it now. Deciding to pursue medicine had been a drastic career switch for Ahreum, and a lot of people had questioned her decision relentlessly. But if there was something she had learnt in the years following her parents' divorce, it was patience and the ability to block out irrelevant conversations. Namjoon had always been immersed in his studies, barely affected by the bitterness existing between their parents. Ahreum, barely in high school, felt lost and helpless during those times. After the divorce, things had become less tumultuous and she was able to see her parents as individual entities. That was when she realized that her father was never going to like any of her decisions, no matter how hard she tried to please him, and her mother preferred to stay aloof at the best of times. Ahreum learnt pretty early in life, that she needed to be there for herself. She loved her brother and parents, though the latter a lot less than the former. Her decision to study English Literature and Creative Writing had been a spur of the moment one - dictated more by the fact that her high school boyfriend was going to study at a major Arts university. She didn't really regret any of her decisions. Her degree had led her to finding a hobby she adored - photography. And having a freelance job meant that she could stay with Namjoon - who earned a significantly larger amount than her - and move whenever he needed to move as well. This was also how she had met Taehyung 3 years ago - a happy coincidence of events when she had been taking pictures outside the museum at Seoul. They had started talking about art and photography, eventually realizing that they lived in the same part of the city. In addition to Yuri, she also considered Taehyung to be her best friend. She had seen him during one of his lowest moments when Seokjin had left home; and then some time later when he had found Seokjin living in the town Ahreum and Namjoon had recently shifted to, she had stayed by him as he grappled with his anger and frustration towards his older brother until an eventual reconciliation.

But at this moment, she was beginning to lose patience with him. Five minutes before she was about to leave for her meeting, she received a bunch of frantic texts from him.

8.25 am

T: ahreum?? are u up??

T: jimins still in custody

T: im so worried

8.26 am

T: u there?

T: i want to visit him...

T: will u come with me?

8.27 am

T: hey

T: ???

T: i didnt sleep much so i dont wanna drive there

8.28 am

T: are u sleeping?

T: ???

He knew she had a meeting today. He knew how important the meeting was for her. She had spoken about it many times. Not for the first time, Ahreum wondered whether Taehyung cared about her beyond what directly concerned him. If it wasn't somehow relevant to him, he never seemed to remember much. It was a careless apathy that had hurt her during the beginning of their friendship, but she had accepted it as a part of him.

Her meeting was at 9 am and she usually needed 20 minutes to get there on her bike. She closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed the points she was going to bring up during her meeting. Her phone pinged once more, breaking her concentration.

8.30 am

T: hey

T: can u pick me up?

She frowned and shot a quick text before pocketing her phone and strapping on her helmet.

A: sorry have a meeting... talk later

As Ahreum sped through the narrow lanes, she was convinced that there was no way she was going to talk to Taehyung today. He would have to manage on his own for once.

Yuri and Jeon sat across from a very nervous Park Minhyuk, his bloodshot eyes indicating that he had been brought in after a rough night.

"Good morning." Jeon began the interview, his notes stacked neatly in front of him. "You were very hard to get a hold of, Mr. Park. Specifically because your company categorically states that you've been out of the country for business."

"I-" His face was white as a sheet.

"When we called your office, we were told that you are often out of the country on business trips. Short trips," Jeon flipped through his notes. "A fortnight, 20 days at max. Your secretary was very obliging - he told us that you traveled on October 12th and returned on October 27th. Then left the country again on November 1st and returned on November 16th. Another trip between November 22nd and December 6th. And finally, one more on December 10th from which you still haven't returned."

"Your phone records are very interesting, Mr. Park," said Yuri, joining in. "I'm DI Choi, by the way, and I will be assisting DI Jeon as his partner on the case. Now -" she opened the file in front of her and took out a particular page - "is this your cell phone number?"

"Yes, but-"

"Our Telecomms division looked over recent activity over the last 3-4 months. While your office confirms that you have been on multiple trips out of the country from October onwards, your phone has been operating in Korea for almost two months. Can you tell us why?"

Minhyuk remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.

"Do you recognize this?" Yuri placed a plastic bag on the table and moved it towards him.

The remaining color drained from Minhyuk's face as he stared at the ring inside the plastic bag.

"Let me help you out, Mr. Park," she continued. "This is an heirloom from your mother's side of the family. There was three such rings - one buried with your mother, one on your brother's finger, and one found at the scene of Son Eunbi's murder. Can you tell us how your ring found its way to a murder scene?"

"I didn't kill her!" Minhyuk looked like he was going to pass out. Jeon poured some water into a glass and passed it to him.

"She was dead when I got there!" he said after gulping down the water. His hands were shaking by this point.

"If she was dead when you got there, why didn't you call the police?"

"I..."

Faced with a possible murder charge, Minhyuk looked frightened but not nearly as forthcoming with an alibi as one would have hoped.

"Mr. Park," Yuri spoke after a period of silence. "Did you know that Ms. Son had a three year old daughter named Gina?"

Minhyuk gulped, his eyes breaking contact with hers. He removed his hands from where they had been clenched on the table, choosing to hide them in his lap.

"Are you Gina's father?" she continued. Minhyuk head shot up at her question.

"H-how did-"

"When did you find out?" she asked.

Minhyuk sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I guess there's no point in denying it since you know everything." He reached out and finished the remaining water in the glass. "In October, after I came back from a trip, I happened to meet her by chance and Gina was with her. It was odd, the way that she tried to avoid talking to me. And the fact that Gina also had clear grey eyes."

For the first time since the interview started, Yuri realised the resemblance between the Park brothers was limited but striking. Their eyes were the exact same shade of grey - while Jimin looked cold and unwelcoming, Minhyuk's glasses did well to give him a warmer appearance.

"I asked her why she hadn't contacted me when she got pregnant. Or in the three years since Gina was born."

"What did she say?" asked Yuri, softly.

"She was scared that I wouldn't believe her." Tears had started to roll down his cheeks. "I loved her... so much. And then she just disappeared one day. I tried so hard to find her but..."

Jeon poured another glass of water for him.

"I told her how happy I was to hear about Gina. That I wanted us to be a proper family. I was willing to do whatever was necessary if that's what she wanted as well. I think she was beginning to warm up to the idea. I even told my father to postpone my next trip so that I could spend a little more time with both of them. But-"

"But?"

Minhyuk stared at his hands, looking tired and dejected. "He - uh, he wasn't happy when he heard about Gina. My father has very particular expectations."

"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you, Mr. Park?"

Minhyuk let out a soft chuckle. "My father doesn't threaten. He suggests."

"And what did he suggest you do about Gina and Eunbi?" asked Jeon.

"That I stay away from them. For the sake of my inheritance."

"And did you?"

"I was planning to... I-I was meant to travel the next day and I thought I would go and see her once more before I left. But when I got there..."

Minhyuk covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"What happened when you got there, Mr. Park?"

"She was lying there... in a pool of blood. Gina was asleep in the back. I-I didn't kill her. You have to believe me."

Yuri and Jeon exchanged a quick look as Minhyuk protested his innocence. They were aware that the homeless man had killed Son Eunbi. The DNA found at the crime scene confirmed the fact that he had stabbed her. But they needed Minhyuk to give them as much information as possible.

"I'm afraid we do not conduct our investigations based on belief, Mr. Park," continued Yuri, shuffling her notes meaningfully. "You still haven't provided us with an alibi for that night. Strange thing - the Park family seem to have a particular aversion towards providing alibis. Your brother was also extremely resistant when we spoke to him."

"You spoke to Jimin? What for?" Minhyuk's expression had changed completely. He looked strangely alert.

"I guess you aren't aware that Jimin was arrested for the murder of Kang Eunwoo on December 15th." Jeon spoke deliberately, hoping to elicit a reaction. And he was successful.

"What?! That's impossible! There's no way he could've done that!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because he was with me on December 15th!"

"I'm sorry but we can't take you at your word. You can't even provide a proper alibi for yourself on the night of Son Eunbi's murder. How can we be sure that the two of you aren't just covering up for each other?"

It was then that Minhyuk realised that he would need to come clean. There was no way to save Jimin without telling them the entire story.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. If it can help Jimin, I'm willing to risk my father finding out."

Yuri glanced at Jeon who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Go on."

"After I saw Eunbi... lying there, I couldn't leave Gina. No matter what my father had said, I couldn't leave my daughter in such a situation. So I... took her away with me."

"Where is Gina now, Mr. Park?" Yuri asked, frowning.

"She's safe."

"Where is she?" asked Jeon, sharply.

"In Busan. I have an apartment there and she's been with me since that day."

"Why didn't you tell the police that you had her? Why does your company believe that you are abroad on a business trip?"

Minhyuk rubbed his eyes tiredly and drank some more water. "I couldn't let my father find out. Jimin and I have an apartment in Busan that we bought under a different name. It was a place our father couldn't find us. Gina's been staying there with me since 2nd November."

"Are you sure your father thinks you're abroad? It doesn't seem like something easy to cover up."

"Jimin helped with that," said Minhyuk, leaning back into the cold metal chair. "He told father that I had run away because he hadn't been understanding of my situation with Gina and Eunbi. Jimin's good at convincing people - it's a talent he's barely ever put to good use."

"So Jimin knew that you were hiding in a secret apartment with your recently discovered daughter?"

"Yes, he did. I have an alibi for 2nd November. I was in a meeting till 9 pm and then stopped for drinks at a nearby fried chicken place till 11 pm. I was a bit tipsy after that, which is why I decided to visit Eunbi and Gina. After taking Gina away from there, I went to Jimin's place, got the keys to the apartment and drove straight there. I think I reached around 2 am."

Yuri jotted down all this information, making a note to check on every new detail that had been mentioned.

"What about December 15th? You said Jimin was with you. Why?" asked Jeon, folding his arms across his chest.

"We meet once a week to make sure everything is going okay," said Minhyuk, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Sundays are usually the best days for that."

"Where did you meet?"

"At the local ice-cream shop," Minhyuk frowned, trying to remember something. "You know the one near the end of town?"

"The Dairy Berry? Yes, I know which one you're talking about." Jeon gave Yuri a brief nod to confirm that this was a legitimate spot and not something Minhyuk was making up on the spot.

"Gina loves sweet things and I thought it would be easier to take her with me the same day I met Jimin. I think we were there till 10 pm. After that, I dropped Jimin at a bar and drove back home."

"Which bar was this?" asked Yuri.

"Sunset."

"And you drove straight home after that?"

"You can check the dash cam on my car and the security tapes at my apartment building, if you want."

"We definitely will, Mr. Park," said Jeon, surveying him carefully. "In the meantime, you will be in custody until we have verified each and every single thing you just told us. So I suggest you keep yourself hydrated."

Yuri could feel a pair of eyes on her as she spoke to Jisoo and Suho.

"We need to verify everything that Park Minhyuk told us. But there's a lot of ground to cover and we've lost quite a bit of time since the murder of Son Eunbi. So I suggest you recruit some uniformed officers as well." Jisoo jotted down the locations and the times they needed to verify, and nodded to Suho to indicate she had forwarded the details to him. "We need to get the information as soon as possible."

"Will do," said Suho, giving her a reassuring nod.

Yuri waited for them to leave before walking over to the person who had been watching her for a while.

"Did you want to talk about something?" she asked Seulgi.

"I-" Seulgi tugged at her sleek, high ponytail, looking oddly hesitant. She seemed in a better mood than earlier in the morning when she had almost scared one of the interns into leaving the country. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah- " Yuri checked the clock on her phone - "just a minute though. I'm waiting for Jeon to get a warrant from Goh."

"Did he-? I mean, Jimin, uh... have you...? You know-" It was strange to see her grappling for words. "Are you certain he's done it?"

Yuri stared at her for a second. This wasn't what she had been expecting Seulgi to talk about. The doctor's relationship with Jimin was even more puzzling than she had originally perceived it.

"We're looking into it right now." She paused, trying to gauge Seulgi's reaction. "But you already know about the blood sample match - that, in itself, is pretty damaging."

"Y-yeah, I know."

Before Yuri could say anything more, Jeon came out of the Chief Inspector's office. "We've got a warrant to search Minhyuk's apartment. Let's go."

Glancing one more time at Seulgi's ashen face, Yuri put on her coat and scarf and followed Jeon out the exit.

Once inside Jeon's car, Yuri debated whether or not she should attempt to engage him in conversation. Her decision was made for her when he drove onto the main road, and lowered the volume of the police scanner.

"What was Seulgi saying?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Just where we were in the investigation."

"I see."

Yuri fiddled with the button on her coat, itching to say more.

"What's the deal with her and Jimin?" she finally asked.

"I- what do you mean?" Jeon raised his eyebrow and gave her the most puzzled expression he could muster while trying to stay focused on the crazy traffic.

"Their relationship is... weird. He keeps flirting with her, and she is on the verge of ripping his guts out at every given moment. But just now, she seemed almost worried about him."

"I don't really know... they've never really seen eye-to-eye on much." Jeon checked the rear view mirror to make sure he was clear before deftly changing lanes. "Jimin has always been the person who tries his utmost to push everyone's buttons. And Seulgi... well, she has a lot of buttons."

Yuri snorted loudly. "That tells me nothing and everything at the same time. You really have a way with words, Jeon."

He smirked at this, his eyes never leaving the road. "So does that mean you trust me now?"

"No." She looked at him and caught the way his face fell slightly at her response. "But who knows what the future holds..."

The smirk was back.

Ahreum had a terrible headache. She usually didn't get many headaches. So on the rare occasion that she did, it put her in a really terrible mood. The only person who knew how to handle this situation properly was Namjoon. He knew that she needed silence, dim lighting, green tea, fresh bread, and absolutely no unexpected company.

So when Ahreum got home after her grueling 3 hour long meeting, hoping to relax and recuperate, she wasn't too pleased to find Taehyung sitting in her living room, playing a very loud game on his tablet.

"You're back!" he yelled, once she slammed the door to make her presence felt. "I've been waiting for hours. How was your meeting?"

"'S okay," she replied, shortly. Taking off her coat, she opened the middle cabinet in the kitchen and searched for the green tea.

"Great! So do you wanna go and visit Jimin now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? You don't have anything else to do right now. Just come with me. Please!" He had walked into the kitchen and was standing in front of her with a pout on his lips.

As endearing as she always found his antics, Ahreum was at breaking point. She placed the cup on the counter with a loud clink, and turned to face him.

"Because I don't have time to follow you on your every whim, Taehyung. Because I have a life of my own. Because I am studying medicine, which, if you aren't aware, is a very taxing occupation." She paused for a breath, as his mouth fell open in shock. "Because I am not your babysitter. Or your handler. Or your caretaker. And I'm tired of being responsible for you. You're a grown ass adult and it's about time you acted like one."

"Ahreum, I'm-" His eyes were wide and worried, and she felt a tiny sliver of remorse. "I don't think you're my babysitter or handler or whatever. You're my best friend."

"I thought so too. In fact," she said, looking away from him. "I thought we were, or we could be, more."

"W-what? Ahreum?" Taehyung sounded so lost and confused that she was tempted to console him.

She walked to the front door and held it open for him. "I think you should leave now. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Wait! What did you mean by that?" he asked, hesitantly standing at the entrance.

"I'm tired, Taehyung. I don't have the energy to explain everything to you. Now, please," she began closing the door slowly. "I want to rest."

"It's clear!" The uniformed officer confirmed to them, before opening the door further.

"Okay, let's see whether little Gina is here," instructed Jeon, his face drawn into a frown.

Yuri nodded and walked into the room on the left of the large living area. It was a study of sorts, with a large wooden desk, a swiveling chair, and shelves upon shelves of books. She quickly checked to see if there was anyone in the room before shouting "clear!". There was another door connecting to a smaller room, it's walls bathed in bright sunlight and smelling of soft lavender. This was clearly some sort of guest room, judging by the inconsistent decor theme. The furniture looked sleek and modern, but the sheets on the bed were soft and pastel colored. A bunch of soft toys stood leaning against the flat screen tv, and Yuri realised that this was probably the room that had been hastily fixed up for a small child's unexpected stay. And sure enough, soft strands of brown hair peaked through the large covers on the bed.

She walked over to the bed slowly, not wanting to startle the child. Yuri barely managed to stifle a gasp as she looked into the child's clear grey eyes - the same color as both Park Minhyuk and Park Jimin.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Are you Gina?"

The little girl nodded, bringing the covers closer towards her.

"I'm a police officer. I help catch bad people." She didn't respond, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Do you want to go to your dad, Gina?" She nodded vigorously, sitting up at the mention of her father. "Okay, we will. But first, tell me, are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Are you sleepy?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Slowly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, we'll go and see your dad, and also get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

It was just after 2 pm and Yuri felt completely drained. After they had found Gina, she had insisted on returning to the station to ask Jimin about his alibi for the night of Kang Eunwoo's murder. From what she had understood, he had refused to provide an alibi to protect his brother and keep him out of the police's radar until the situation with Gina worked out. Even though she still couldn't get herself to consider him a pleasant person, his desire to protect his brother had humanized him a great deal in her eyes.

Sure enough, once he was made aware that Minhyuk had come forward and spoken about his daughter and the events of the past month and a half, Jimin looked much less hostile than before.

"I was at Sunset from around 10.30 pm to closing time - which is 2 am," he said, sighing tiredly and rubbing his face with his hands. "You can confirm with them."

While Minhyuk and Jimin's alibis were verified, Yuri received a text from Namjoon, asking her and Jeon to meet him at Seokjin's bakery. It was barely a 2 minute drive there, so Jeon suggested they get lunch over there and make it before Goh finished compiling the list of paperwork for them to finish.

The smell of freshly baked milk bread wafted out of the kitchen, adding another layer of warmth to Seokjin's cozy shop. The man in question picked up the large tray filled with various different confections, and brought it over to the table by the window.

"Peach danish and americano for Namjoon, chocolate fudge brownie and vanilla bean ice cream for Jeongguk, and a snow croissant and hot chocolate for Yuri." He placed everything on the table, before grabbing his lukewarm cup of tea and sitting down with them.

"So you finally find the child, then?" asked Seokjin, sipping the tea. He made a face at the odd taste that tea acquires when it's between comfortingly steamy and soothingly chilled.

"Yeah we did," Yuri replied, when her partner remained silent. "Goh is dealing with Minhyuk and the custody charges. It's no longer in our jurisdiction."

"Namjoon, how's grad school treating you?" Seokjin diverted the conversation, realising that his friend wasn't ready to talk about the case at that moment. "How much longer do you have?"

"A few more months and I should be done." Namjoon wiped the pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth and nearly tipped over his americano in the process. Yuri chuckled at this, suddenly remembering those random moments in high school where Namjoon was a lot thinner and less confident, but still had a propensity for knocking things over.

"Remind me why you're putting yourself through this?" Seokjin broke off a piece of the peach danish and popped it into his mouth.

"The last time I tried to explain that, you spaced out and created a new pastry recipe for your menu. As much as I like helping your business flourish, I'm gonna preserve my energy and only talk about things when necessary."

Seokjin chuckled and picked up a spoon from the dispenser. "Jeongguk, can I get a bit of ice cream from you?" There was no response, and looking at him for confirmation Seokjin's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Okay okay, I won't eat any of your ice cream. You don't have to tear up about it!"

Yuri and Namjoon turned towards him as well, not sure what to do when they saw tears slowly sliding down Jeongguk's cheeks.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" asked Namjoon, patting his shoulder softly.

They sat in silence, as Jeongguk sobbed softly and wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He turned towards Yuri, his eyes glazed with tears but holding a soft radiance unlike what she was used to.

"Thank you."

Yuri felt her face heat up suddenly. This wasn't what she had been expecting. The soft sincerity in his voice startled her. It was nothing like the person she had met only a week ago. She looked away abruptly and nodded her head.

"There's nothing to thank me for. This is our job."

Jeongguk smiled and resumed eating the disgustingly sweet dessert combination in front of him. He nudged Seokjin to take some ice cream like he had originally intended. There was silence once more, but this time, it was very different.

Back at the station, Yuri finished the paperwork for the day. There was a lot to complete, and since they had stopped at Seokjin's for a break, they had lost some time as well. Goh had been very clear about completing all the paperwork for social services to take over the case from them now that Gina had been found.

It was barely even 5 pm but Yuri felt a large yawn coming on for the third time in the past few minutes. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to carry on without getting proper sleep at night. At this rate, she would eventually burn out. There was only so much coffee could do for her.

A light tap brought her attention to another person standing in her cubicle. She looked up to see Jeon holding two steaming cups of ramen, tilting his head slightly to confirm whether it was okay for him to sit down.

"Did you need anything?" she asked, after moving her slightly. He placed the ramen on her desk and pulled up his own chair and sat down.

"I've got a peace offering," he gestured to the ramen. "I wanted to apologize properly for being an absolute dickhead to you. I-" He hesitated, looking down at his hands that lay clenched on his lap - "I don't really have an excuse for my behavior but I had a lot on my mind. Particularly about finding the little girl. And, well... you really don't know what solving this case means to me."

Once again, Yuri wasn't sure how to react. She felt embarrassed that he was thanking her for doing her job - something that he did as well. While she appreciated his apology, his entire being remained confusing to her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And thanks for the ramen; food is always appreciated."

Thankfully, her computer ping-ed with a new email before the atmosphere could get any more awkward.

"Okay, we've confirmed Minhyuk's alibi's for 2nd November and 15th December. He wasn't involved in either murder. Jimin was with Minhyuk till 10.15 pm on 15th December - his car's dash cam confirms that he dropped Jimin off at Sunset bar around that time."

"Fantastic! And what about the CCTV footage at Sunset? Does it confirm Jimin's story? He said he was there till 2 am."

"Hang on, I'm opening the report. Th-" she stopped abruptly, frowning at the screen.

"What?" asked Jeon, looking over her shoulder to read the email.

"CCTV footage does not place Jimin at Sunset from 10.15 pm till closing time at 2 in the morning. He doesn't have an alibi for Eunwoo's murder."

She turned to look at him, an odd sense of foreboding hitting her as she realized that they would have to charge Jimin for murder by the next evening. He held her gaze, his dark eyes reflecting a similar shadow of doubt.

please reblog and leave a comment if you liked this part! thank you! 😊

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #taehyung #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts fluff #bts bookclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #magicshopnet

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letterboxd · 3 years

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Lonesome Cruiser.

Blockbuster composer Tom Holkenborg, aka Junkie XL, talks to Gemma Gracewood about composing for titans, his pride in Dutch cinema, friendship with George Miller and longing for Olivia Newton-John. Plus: his Letterboxd Life in Film and why he’s selling his prized collection of recording gear.

It has been a spectacular spring for Tom Holkenborg, the Dutch musician also known as Junkie XL, who has crafted the scores for multiplex fare such as Mad Max: Fury Road, Deadpool, Terminator: Dark Fate, Sonic the Hedgehog and the upcoming zombie banger Army of the Dead. Only weeks apart, two blockbusters landed on screens with his sonic stamp all over them: Adam Wingard’s Godzilla vs. Kong and Zack Snyder’s re-realized Justice League.

Thankfully, the Godzilla vs. Kong score was complete by the time the Justice League telephone rang. Holkenborg—who had lost the Justice League gig along with Snyder the first time around—knew the Snyder cut was coming; he had closely watched the growing calls for it online. “Zack and I already started talking in 2019. He’s like, ‘What if we were to finish this? What would it take?’ Those conversations turned to ‘Well, how many recording days potentially do you need and how much of an orchestra do you potentially need?’ Finally, somewhere in April 2020, that’s when that phone call came: ‘Okay, light’s green, start tomorrow, and start running until it’s done because it’s four and a half hours’.”

Ray Fisher as Cyborg in ‘Zack Snyder’s Justice League’.

Holkenborg approaches the titanic task of blockbuster film scoring with an engineer’s mindset: “Building a fantastic, huge house with 20 bedrooms and the dance hall and the kitchen… You’re not going to start by building the third bathroom for the third guest room, right?” Once he has identified the scenes that are most important to his directors—for Snyder, they included the introduction of Cyborg, three fight set-pieces, and a scene of The Flash running that comes towards the end of the film—the composer identifies instrumental “colors” in order to build a theme around each character. Then he holds some of those colors back, theorizing that “if you want like an, ‘Oh!’ experience by looking at a painting that has a huge amount of bright yellow in it, it’s way more successful to see fifteen paintings in front of it, where yellow is absent.”

The Godzilla vs. Kong score satisfies Holkenborg’s life-long love of both characters. “I don’t have a preference for either one. I love them both for various different reasons.” Their respective histories fascinate him: Godzilla as a way to make sense of Japan’s nuclear fall-out, and Kong as a gigantic spectacle that ended up attracting the sympathies of the audiences he was supposed to scare. Even when the science makes no sense (“what the fuck are plasma boosters, anyway?!”), Holkenborg is still happy to wax lyrical about the emotional depth of Kong’s stories, the elaborate concepts of the Godzilla-verse, and his musical approach to the pair—dark, moving brass for Godzilla, with synthesized elements “because he is a half-synthesized animal”, and a more organic, complex orchestration for Kong, featuring “one of the world’s bigger bass drums”.

Adam Wingard’s ‘Godzilla vs. Kong’.

All of this seat-shaking bombast is composed on an “insanely massive sound system” in Holkenborg’s small home studio (though he reassures pandemic-stricken film lovers that he has recently seen both Godzilla vs. Kong and Justice League on his laptop—and “really enjoyed watching it like that”). The process, he says, was “pretty intense”, but only in terms of the sheer amount of score needed. Composing in quarantine was not much different from his usual workflow. “I’m a pretty lonesome cruiser anyway. Composing, by nature, is like a solo exercise—obviously with assistance.”

Like many creatives (Bong Joon-ho recently told a film studies class that he is up at 5:00am most days to watch a movie), Holkenborg is an early riser, waking by 4:00am. “I’m super sharp between like 4 or 5:00am and 9:00am, so I like to do a lot of creative work in that slot.” He takes care of business until mid-afternoon, when another creative spurt happens. “And then I have another batch of calls usually to make, and then around 8:30pm, I’m going to retire for the rest of the day and just chill out a little bit and watch stuff that I want to see, read things that I want to read. Right now I’m studying Portuguese.” By 10:30pm, he’s asleep. “And then at three o’clock I get up.” (Needless to say, Holkenborg’s children are no longer small.)

The pandemic simplified a lot of things for a lot of people: for Holkenborg, it has been a moment to tidy up the physical side of his work. In November last year, he opened an online shop to divest the bulk of his gear—synths, pedals, guitars, drum machines and much more—that he has been collecting since the late 1970s. When friends told him he’d regret it, he disagreed. “At some point I’m going to die. I can’t take them to the afterlife. I also found out I don’t need them. I love to have them around, but I don’t need them.”

Tom Holkenborg with the bass drum used in the ‘Godzilla vs. Kong’ score.

It certainly solves the question of what he’d take if his house was on fire. “The hard drives with sounds and music over the last 40 years, 45 years, that’s hard to replace. So, that would be it. I’m just thinking about things that are absolutely irreplaceable and there are not that many, really.” Alas, it’s bad news for that bass drum. “I can’t take that with me when the house is on fire. Unfortunately, it’s going to make the house burn longer.”

Anyone who has interviewed or spent time with Holkenborg will agree: he may be a lonesome cruiser, but he is also personable, funny, loves to settle in for a chat. As he lights his second or third cigarette in readiness for his Life in Film questionnaire, I’m curious about his relationships with the esteemed filmmakers he has worked with—who include his mentor, Hans Zimmer, directors Sir Peter Jackson, Tim Miller, Robert Rodriguez and, especially, Fury Road’s George Miller.

The story of how Holkenborg scored Mad Max: Fury Road bears retelling: that George Miller did not want a soundtrack (“he was convinced that the orchestration of sounds of the cars would be enough to carry the whole movie”), that Holkenborg was only brought in to create a little something for the Coma-Doof Warrior’s flame-throwing guitar, that they hit it off, the job grew, and grew, into a score that covers almost the entire film.

The Coma-Doof Warrior in ‘Mad Max: Fury Road’ (2015).

What is his best memory of Fury Road? “Well, obviously, when I saw the movie for the first time and I was like ‘what the hell am I looking at?’,” he laughs. “What I mostly look back on is the friendship that I developed with George and the film school one-on-one that I got admitted to, while being paid at the same time, to study with somebody like him. We would talk all night about all kinds of things and nothing, because that really defines our relationship so much—a joint interest in so many different things.”

Happily, Holkenborg and Miller are working together again, on Three Thousand Years of Longing. “It’s really great to be in that process with him again. It’s just like about pricking each other with a little needle. It’s like, ‘Oh, why are you saying that?’ We do that with each other to keep each other sharp. ‘Oh, but if you’re doing this, I’m going to be doing that.’ And then, ‘Oh, if you’re doing that, I’m going to be doing this.’ So it’s really interesting.”

What is your favorite Godzilla film?

Tom Holkenborg: 1989’s Godzilla vs. Biollante. It’s a very obscure one where he’s basically fighting a giant rose. Let’s not look for the logic there.

Why has that particular Godzilla captured your heart? It’s so corny. Yeah. Mothra vs. Godzilla is also great. Mothra looks like a very bad Arabian carpet that was imported through customs and it got delivered by FedEx completely ruined and then laid outside for like four weeks in the rain.

‘Godzilla vs. Biollante’ (ゴジラvsビオランテ, 1989).

What is the first film you remember seeing in a cinema? Bambi. I was six years old, yeah.

And is there a film you have fond memories of watching with your family—a movie that became a family favorite? Not, like, a family favorite because our opinions were too diverse for that, but the next movie that became very important to me when I was a little older was Saturday Night Fever. I thought the soundtrack was, like, groundbreaking, mind-blowingly insane. It’s not necessarily those three massive beats of the Bee Gees on there, but all these other really alternative, left-field tracks by bands like Kool & the Gang. And the way that that darker disco music played against that really dark movie about what it’s like to live in New York and become a competitive dancer, it’s incredible. And still, today, it’s one of the movies where film music and the film itself had so much impact on me, even though it’s not a traditional film score in that sense. It’s incredible.

What is the film that made you want to work in movies, given that you also have a whole musical career separate from movies? (Enjoy Junkie XL’s early 2000s remix of Elvis Presley’s ‘A Little Less Conversation’.) For me, the move from a traditional artist into film scoring was a very slow gradual process. There’s not one movie that pushed me over the cliff. It’s just, like, all the great movies that were made. And I still have a list of obscure movies, classic movies that I need to see.

Yesterday I saw the weirdest of all, but I do want to share this: the original, uncut R-rated version of Caligula, [from] 1979. He [director Tinto Brass] was notoriously brutal and he organized orgies and had terrible torturing techniques. But it’s really weird, there’s Shakespearean actors in there, and then it goes to full-on porn sections. It’s really weird. The music is incredible. You can find it online. You will not find it anywhere [else]. I can just imagine what this must have felt like in 1979 when the film came out. Suspiria, that’s another one. It’s just like, how weird was that thing?

What is your favorite blockbuster that you did not compose? Ben-Hur. I’ve seen that one at least 20 times.

What’s your all-time comfort re-watch? The movie I’ve seen the most is Blade Runner. It’s just, like, it’s a nice world you’re stepping into, that fantasy. It’s not necessarily because I have memories [of] that movie that brings me back to a certain time period, it’s not that. It’s just that I just love to dwell in it. It feels a little bit like coming home. You can use it as comfort food, you can use it as, “I’m not feeling anything today”, or the opposite. You feel very great and you feel very inspired and it’s like, “Oh, let’s go home and watch that movie again.”

Terrence Malick’s ‘The Thin Red Line’ (1998).

Hans Zimmer has been an important mentor to you. Do you have a favorite of his scores? Yes, The Thin Red Line. It’s also the filmmaking of Terrence Malick—he forces a composer to think a certain way. He would always say, “It’s too much, make it less, make it smaller, make it this, make it that.” So, A, it’s a very good movie and B, he got Hans into the right place and Hans just over-delivered by doing exactly the right things at the right time and then shining just because of that.

Who is a composer that you have your eye on and what is one of their films that we should watch next? It’s so sad to say, but I mean, let’s call it like a retrospective discovery if you will. I’m so sad that we lost Jóhann Jóhannsson. He was a composer I felt really close to. We started roughly in the same time period making our way in today’s world. Also, Jóhann came from an artist background, even though it was a modern classical background. He made really great records, great experimentation with electronic elements, with classical instruments, and the mix between the two of them—very original way of looking at music. With Denis Villeneuve as his partner in crime the movies that they did were just mind-boggling good, whether it was Sicario or Arrival or Prisoners, and his voice will truly be missed among film composers. So people that are not super familiar with his work, I would definitely check it out.

‘Turks Fruit’ (Turkish Delight, 1973).

What is a must-see Dutch film that we should add to our watchlists? Holland has small cinema, but it has a really rich cinema and a very serious cinema culture. Usually because there’s not enough work in film, people are serious stage performers but then they also act in movies so they understand both really well. And we’ve delivered. There’s a string of actors that make their way to Hollywood or star in well-known series, whether it’s like Game of Thrones, or what we just talked about, Blade Runner. Many directors like Paul Verhoeven, Jan de Bont, the cameraman.

And so a movie that I’d like to pick is an old movie, called Turks Fruit (Turkish Delight) from the 1970s. Rutger Hauer is a younger guy, like, this completely irresponsible guy that starts this relationship with a really beautiful young girl, and they do all these crazy things, they do a lot of drugs and they have a lot of sex. He’s just like a bad influence on her.

Then he finds out she [has] cancer and it’s terminal. And to see him deal with that, and to see him want a change, but also in that change he does a lot of bad stuff at the same time… It was a sensational movie when it came out. And it actually was directed by Paul Verhoeven, one of his earlier films. When you see it, you’re just like, ‘Why am I watching this?’ for the first 45 minutes and then it starts and it’s like, ‘whoa’. So it’s really good, even in retrospect.

Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta in ‘Grease’ (1978).

What is the sexiest film you’ve ever seen? When I was super young, it was definitely Grease, with Olivia Newton-John, when she was in her catsuit at the very end of it. I had her picture on my bedroom, above my bed sideways because I was only like ten years old or something. I was so in love with Olivia Newton-John. It wasn’t the film per se, it was her. Yeah, I find, personally, movies from the ’70s to be more sexy, but it has something to do with the super-loose way that people were dressed and people were behaving.

And the other one was later in life: Basic Instinct. Sharon Stone. I’m not talking about like the famous shot, right, where she crosses her legs. I’m not talking about that, but the way that she acts throughout the whole movie. It’s insane. It’s really great.

Are there any films that have scared you? Like, truly terrified you? Yeah, I’m not a big fan because I get sucked up too much in it. The found [footage] horror movies like Paranormal Activity and things like the Japanese version of The Grudge, I cannot watch that stuff. That gets me too much. Because when I watch a film, I cannot watch it with one eye half open, the other one closed, like, ‘Okay, kind of cool, interesting’. I just get sucked into it.

Is there a film that has made you cry like no other? Oh yeah. Multiple. Once Upon a Time in America. The Godfather. Hable con Ella (Talk to Her). Betty Blue.

Thomas Holkenborg, AKA Junkie XL.

These are the films that make you weep? Not like on a regular basis, but I remember those were the ones that I really got hit. I’m talking particularly about the third Godfather. That whole end scene when they get out of the church and then… It’s really well-acted. So many Godfather fans that were dismissive of the film when it came out, in retrospect, ten, fifteen, 20 years later, are like, ‘it’s a really good film’. And I actually think so.

Final question. Is there a film from the past year that you would recommend, that you’ve loved? [Long pause.] The thing is that I watch pretty much a movie a day. So, that’s like three to four hundred movies. It [has] happened so often that I watch a film and then I’m just like an hour and 45 minutes in, it’s like, ‘wait, fuck, I’ve seen this thing before’.

So, we have an app for that… [Laughs.]