#she would not have been able to afford her current assisted living for MUCH longer than the novel's plot sets it up to be

[sassysnowperson]

Sass Talks Books: Thank You for Listening, by Julia Whelan

Basic Plot: An audiobook narrator, who doesn't record romance books (anymore - she needed to break into the industry somehow), is given the financial opportunity of a lifetime...recording a romance book. It's a dual narration book, too, which means working with another narrator. Her recording partner quickly becomes one of the best perks of the project, warm and funny and *real* feeling, despite the fact they've never met. (They've never met, right?)

My thoughts: I really enjoyed this one. The author IS an audiobook narrator, writing a book about two audiobooks narrators, and I listed to the audiobook...narrated by the author. I thoroughly recommend that reading experience, by the way. There's a lot of little moments with the two talented voice actor characters slipping into different accents, talking about tone and inflection, and it's an absolute delight to hear the narrator delivering on the script she wrote for herself. As for the story itself, I'm not far enough into the romance world to know if this book deviates from the romance novel beats enough that it's drifted out of the category, but I can say that it was absolutely charming and enjoyable. And, that the changes made dulled the edges of the parts of romance I bounce off of the most while absolutely being a very loving send-up of the genre. The connection between the two people was very real, but it wasn't the only (or even, I would argue, the most important) relationship developing and changing in the book.

Every character felt connected in a complicated web of love and relationships with other people - it was a joy. And it was used to explore some toothy things that I normally don't get in a book this fun - grief, regret, how you deal with the losses you can't get back, how you rebuild a life. It stayed warm-hearted and kind as a book, but it didn't shy away from real fights, insecurities, and pain.

A handful of warnings to go along with that: the MC has lost an eye, and deals with ableism, and some negative self-perception. There's some diet-culture-based disordered eating for the MC's best friend (not displayed as a good thing). The MC's relationship with her dad has some brutal fights where there's emotional manipulation happening. There's also a real look at the complications of dementia - discussed below.

The protagonist's relationship with her grandmother is a key point of the story, and the grandmother is dealing with encroachment of memory loss and personality change that comes along with dementia. This part surprised me - I work with older adults in long-term care and lol, was not expecting that my professional life would be relevant to the situation. The author made a few errors with the care system in California (where our grandma is based, and where I work). But frankly, only a few, and the way the dementia progressed wasn't one of them. It was good, and heartbreaking, and one of my favorite parts.

Wow...I wrote a lot about this. Suppose that makes sense, considering it was my experience of the book itself. I expected something light and fun, and while I got it, there was depth there too that was a very welcome surprise.

[leafyblueghost]

*BLACK TRANS WOMAN EXPERIENCING HOMELESSNESS - UPDATE: NOW HOUSED*

Okay so I have no following whatsoever, so this is totally a shot in the dark. However, my friend Brooklyn is currently experiencing homelessness in Los Angeles after being kicked out by her parents for being transgender. She has been homeless since April 2021.

She is working for UberEats & staying in a motel, but she's running out of energy to keep fighting. She's desperate to save enough money for somewhere to live. She has a gofundme but is stuck in a cycle of having to use all the donations and her wages for food and motels. She's trying so so hard, but she's exhausted and feeling as though she's out of options.

She was staying in a shelter for a time, but struggled with sharing a room because of trauma from previous assaults. She was also exposed to c-19 there multiple times, and witnessed lots of drug abuse. She couldn't take it anymore.

She has little chance of saving enough for longer-term housing as things are. If you're able to support this beautiful black transgender woman who is in dire need of assistance, you can do so at https://t.co/jf7FZI9Ubd please scroll down for update and new donation link.

Or support her through her music at https://t.co/hoCQsJJRsL (Amazon Music). You can also stream her music on Spotify, and she will get some revenue from this. This is a great way to help if you can't donate!

Please share far and wide! My friend needs help.

(Posted 7th September 2021)

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

Edits to add:

I will make sure to add any updates on Brooklyn's situation to this post, and she updates the gofundme regularly.

If you know of anyone in LA selling an affordable used car or motorbike, or renting out an affordable room, please get in touch! Details of any organisations that might be able to help Brooklyn out would also be appreciated (though she has already been in touch with several and had limited success).

Thank you so much in advance.

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

UPDATE: 19th September 2021

I am so happy to announce that due to some very generous donations, Brooklyn has now moved into a rented room! A big thank you to everyone who donated, reblogged, streamed and shared. This is such a major milestone for Brooklyn to finally be in safe and secure housing, and we can't thank you enough for your help.

However, her struggle is not yet over. Her rent is now $1550 per month, which is hard to afford working for UberEats. If you would still like to donate there is a new link below, and this money will be used to help pay for rent and food. In addition, I know it would mean the absolute world to Brooklyn if you would all keep streaming her music.

This will probably be the last update for the time being. If you would like to keep up to date with Brooklyn's journey, you can follow her on Instagram @ transbeauty07. Again, we can't thank you enough for helping us out like this. Thank you ❤️🏳️‍🌈

[blackkatmagic]

It's just turned monday here and I know I'll forget about it in the morning so... For some reasons (insert furious handwaving) Maul was married off to Jaster to cement an alliance with the Mandalorians. Maul is pissed off but can't afford to be sent back so he's just. Silent and glowering. This is torture for Jaster, who has SO MANY QUESTIONS about the force and can't get a word out of Maul. Jaster learns to echolocate facts about the force by confidently saying things and measuring how wrong they are by how much Maul grinds his teeth. (Maybe he'll hit upon the thing that will make his new husband finally open his mouth and correct him)

Maul is going to make himself a widower in short order.

Murderous, faintly sleep-deprived, entirely fed up with absolutely everything, Maul slouches in his chair, one foot braced on the seat, and glares across the table at his new husband, contemplating whether he can refine his technique enough to actually murder someone with his eyes. Even if he can't, the excess of gold he’s wearing has to be good for something. Jaster won't be able to spout his stupid theories if he’s choking on five kilograms of jewelry.

“Don’t be silly, Arla,” Jaster says, in that particular confident tone that truly drives Maul to the edge of homicide. “Force-users have a long history of translocating themselves across vast distances.” There's a pause, and Maul ignores the dark eyes on him, watchful and amused, and instead contemplates how hard he’d have to throw the delicate curls of gold currently wound around his horns for them to kill a man.

Then, with the conviction of a man who’s never been mauled by a Zabrak for his sheer idiocy, Jaster says, “And besides, everyone knows of their ability to change their shape on a molecular level.”

A vein in Maul's temple probably throbs. He definitelygrinds his teeth, trying desperately to remember that Savage and Feral are both currently under Mother Talzin’s thumb, both sold into their own marriages to bring her power as she plays all sides. Serving the Sith Lord before his untimely demise wasn’t precisely better, but—

At least the safety of his brothers didn’t rest on Maul's ability to tolerate sheer stupidity.

Jaster doesn’t show any signs of recognizing that his lack of intelligence is causing Maul physical pain. He simply sinks back in his chair, swirling his wine in his glass, and smiles at Maul like he’s won something. “No shapeshifting, then?” he asks, amused.

Maul narrows his eyes, tips his head back to look down his nose at Jaster. Thinks, determinedly and a little bit mulishly, of Feral married to the clone army’s Marshal Commander, of Savage wed to a Jedi and forced to play husband to the new Master of the Order. Kit Fisto isn't Obi-Wan Kenobi, but Maul has no faith in a Jedi’s willingness to guard his younger brothers from Talzin. Clearly it falls to Maul to uphold this bargain, at least well enough to establish a safe place for Savage and Feral to flee to when they’re inevitably betrayed.

“Still no words for me, husband?” Jaster asks, still smiling. Maul might think him attractive if he weren’t so frustrating. “You were willing to exchange words at the wedding, but I've rarely been blessed with your opinions since.”

“Jaster,” Arla says, rolling her eyes from further down the table. Deliberately, like she’s making a point, she reaches out, tips more wine out of the pitcher and into her cup, and then downs it. “Please. Some of us are trying to eat here.”

“I'm hardly stopping you,” Jaster protests, entirely innocent. Maul twists one of the rings on his fingers and contemplates how much force he’d need to embed it in the wall above Jaster's head, as a warning. “I was just saying, Maul can finally confirm what I've known for years, which is that as the Force is the manifestation of a vast creature of entropy—”

Maul is going to break a tooth, he’s grinding them so hard. He digs his fingers into the arm of his chair, the black cloth of his formal wear, and fixes the image of Feral in that last moment before parting in his mind. Feral, thin and weak from punishment at the Nightsisters’ hands, being tradedto Commander Cody, passed into the ranks of the vast army made with stolen DNA and set against the Republic. Feral will suffer if Maul breaks this alliance. Talzin made that very clear, and Maul has little enough family as it is. He isn't about to lose his brothers. Not for this.

Jango, slumped down on Arla's other side and looking as though he greatly regrets agreeing to this dinner, groans and buries his face in his hands. “Old man, if you can't even flirt normally—”

“It’s not flirting, it’s science,” Jaster says. “I have a theory. Maul, would you care to help me prove it right?”

Since Maul would much rather attempt to drown Jaster in his soup, he bites his tongue and glares.

Jaster beams. “The Force,” he says, and Maul braces for impact, “is the expression of a vast hive mind beyond the known galaxy—”

It’s worse than Maul thought. He’s going to physically implode if he has to listen to this for one second longer—

“The Force,” Jaster says again, still watching Maul, “is an energy field created by living things.”

Not quite correct, but certainly more so than hive minds, and Maul only rolls his eyes a little. “If you're quite done,” he says darkly, because he knows what Jaster is doing, but that doesn’t exactly make it easier to bear.

Jaster chuckles, leaning across the table to pour Maul more wine. “For now,” he promises. “Though if you're open to a debate on the origins of the Jedi as a cohesive order—ow!”

One of the small, bright red fruits pegs Jaster squarely in the side of the head and bounces off. Not, surprisingly, thrown by Maul, and he blinks, casting a look sideways down the table, to where Jaster's majordomo is veryinterested in the last few spoonfuls of liquid remaining in his bowl. There is, notably, a bowl of the fruits right in front of him.

“Treachery,” Jaster complains, straightening with an offended expression. “Jango—”

“If it had been me, I would have thrown my whole plate at you,” Jango says, raising his hands. “Blame Arla.”

“If it had been me, it would have been a knife,” Arla says, clearly already a little tipsy, and single-mindedly trying to get herself right to drunk.

Well. Maul can appreciate the assistance of an ally, when the circumstances are right. He opens his mouth to take credit—

“Did you know,” Jaster says, perfectly certain, “that each lightsaber’s color represents the phase of the moon under which it was mined, and the resonance of them—”

Maul is going to murder him, delicate political alliances be damned. Feral will understand. With a low growl, he shoves himself up, lunges across the table, and grabs Jaster by the collar of his shirt, hauling them in until they're eye to eye.

“You,” he bites out, “are the most imbecilic manI have ever had the vast misfortune to meet. That is not how lightsabers work.”

“Oh?” Jaster asks with interest, leaning in even as Maul's eyes narrow. He smirks, his hand curling over Maul's, lacing their fingers, and then he deliberately, like a dare, raises Maul's hand to his lips. “Tell me more?”

Maul picks up his soup bowl and coolly upends it over his head. Truly, such a request deserves no other possible response.

[On AO3]

[bestialchorus]

“The Invisible String” (Falling for Donna Beneviento)- Chapter 1

Donna quietly gasps as your fingers lightly brush against each other. The head of the house immediately jerks her hand away in response, acting as if the minimal contact had burned her flesh. Despite her reaction, she doesn’t completely pull away, instead her hand freezes in midair as she mentally processes what to do next, her fingers ever so slightly shaking. You watch the scene from the corner of your eye, feigning ignorance as you pick up the brush you were originally reaching for. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass her by drawing attention to her sudden jitteriness. You take no offence as you’re well aware of how her anxiety can manifest in different ways. You instead begin painting the face of one of Donna’s latest creations, giving it your own touch of life, avoiding her gaze.

To call the air between you both as heavy would be an understatement. For Donna was quieter than usual, if that’s even possible, while thoughts plague your mind. Thoughts filled with unspoken words that prick at your tongue, wishing to be set free. You sit in silence as all

that can be heard throughout the Beneviento home is an old grandfather clock ticking away down the hall. You couldn’t help but be grateful for the ancient clock as its presence always helped anchor you to reality, an issue that proved to be difficult whenever you were near the shrouded woman.

The tension you currently feel is nothing new.  For months it’s been bubbling beneath the surface, quietly peeking through now and again. You always felt it in the woman’s presence but chose to never vocalize it, naively hoping it would go away….but it never did.

For months you desperately tried to repress how the puppeteer made you feel, only to fail miserably. Every moment with Donna threatened to take your breath away, from the passing glances, accidental touches, and restless dreams you had no control over…but how you craved them. The longer you spent within the Beneviento home, the more you tried to sever any hope of the woman returning your affections. For to hope was to dream and dreams didn’t last long within reality’s grasp, not when you were a common painter and she, a woman with status and power.

For some reason, the tension in the air feels stronger than usual or perhaps it was simply all in your head. Perhaps you’re finally being punished for your naivete as your affections now threaten to flood your system. Your heart begins to pump faster as you imagine finally confessing to the woman in black. To think, a brush of fingers would be the final straw.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This all-started months ago when a shadowy member of house Beneviento had informed you had been summoned. You couldn’t help but feel anxiety bubble in the pit of your stomach as you automatically assumed the worst. All you knew about Mistress Beneviento were the rampant rumours that swirled around why she chose to conceal her identity at all costs; some say she was born with a monstrous appearance, others believe the flesh off her face had completely melted off in a horrific accident, while someone else had personally told you she was probably a cursed body with no head at all. You had never been one for rumours, but you felt nervous all the same, what could the head of a house want with a simple artist like yourself? Surely, she could afford a painter of well-known status if she wanted a portrait done.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The pathway towards House Beneviento would only fuel the stories of horror and enigma attached to the mysterious family. Isolated on a wintery cliff, overlooking a grand waterfall, you feel every inch of your being telling you to go back the closer you get to the eerie house. Despite the status of the Beneviento name, you see no sign of life surrounding it; no groundskeepers or servants to be spoken of.

The heavy wooden door closes behind you with a loud creak. Your confusion only grows as no help comes to announce your arrival, the space is seemingly empty. Despite the home’s quiet nature, you can’t help but find it surprisingly “cozy” as deep rich wood surrounds you. Lights create a warm glow throughout the space, contrasting with the harsh winter winds you hear rattle against the windows.  

A voice suddenly speaks from the top of the stairs, making you jump back. You jerk your head towards the sound as your gaze falls on none other than the mistress of the house, Donna Beneviento. Off first glance, she is as mysterious as all the rumours suggested, covered from head to toe in a long dark dress and veil, showing no skin except for her hands. Despite the image, you don’t find her as unnerving as you originally thought you would. Sure, there was definitely something about her that was almost otherworldly but so far, not in a threatening way.

“Welcome to my home, Lady Y/N.” She greets in a low and soft voice.

You hold a hand over your heart as you wait for it to relax, she’s truly given you a fright but you’re more concerned of how she was able to appear without making her presence known. Surely you would have heard her steps against the wood, right? You shake your head of the thought as you try answer as politely as you can, having no experience interacting with anyone from the four families.

“Of course, Mistress Beneviento. It’s no trouble at all, how ah…can I be of assistance?”

The woman takes a pause before answering, almost frozen in place. You feel a bit awkward under her “gaze”, wondering if she’s silently judging you from under her veil. Finally, she extends a hand towards the hallway to her right, no rush in her movement as she answers.

“Perhaps it is better if I showed you.”

You follow her upstairs, and she leads you to a room filled with porcelain dolls, each dressed to reflect a unique personality. Upon closer inspection, you take in how much love was put into them; from ornate detailing to masterful craftmanship. Out of every scenario you could have imagined you’d find within House Beneviento, this could never have been one of them.

Donna’s voice comes out almost in a whisper.

“I could use your help bringing more to life…I’m aware of the skill you possess.”

Most would find her phrasing a bit bizarre, but you picked up on the vulnerability in her voice, highlighting just how much these dolls clearly meant to her. You turn towards her and notice how she softly runs a thumb over her other hand, you assume it to be a self-soothing technique. The gesture makes you notice how nice her hands are in shape, delicate yet slender and her nails perfectly painted.

From that day on you became Donna Beneviento’s artistic assistant, helping her paint, build and touch-up her “children”.  Days turned into weeks and weeks into months as you worked side by side in her large workshop. You honestly enjoyed the work but quickly found yourself enjoying her presence even more.

The image of the eerie woman quickly sheds away the more you get to know her. Ultimately what lies under the veil is a timid woman who preferred not to draw attention to herself. From what you can pick up, it seems all Donna wants is to live comfortably in her home while pursuing her passions. She enjoys needlework and keeping countless journals. She has little issue working well within the night whenever she started a new project of any kind. She is a far cry from the stereotypes attached to her status and rumoured state. The head of House Beneviento was instead an artistic soul who was gentle in mannerisms as she was with you.

Donna would openly concern herself with your health, showing worry whenever you got little sleep, little did she know she was often the reason for it. Her gentle voice and stunning hands would plague your mind deep within the night, refusing to let you rest. You quickly changed the subject whenever she brought up the dark circles under your eyes, embarrassed they’re from imaging how her touch would feel against your skin.

The head of the house was also unsurprisingly a great listener. You first take notice of this once your favourite tea appears one day in her kitchen, remembering you had told her about it a few weeks ago. Soon after, desserts begin to appear in her fridge once she found out you had a sweet tooth. Eventually the woman would presence you with high quality brushes you always wished you could try out. Going forward you always tried to be mindful of discussing anything she could end up buying you, not wanting to take advantage of her generosity.

You remember the day you worked in silence as you processed the woman’s “gifts” as she never directly gave them to you but simply waited for you to notice their presence. Deep down you always wished they meant something more, but you quickly shook the thought away. You instead decided it must be because you’re working on her dolls. You’re just a worker to her and nothing more.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” She asks, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Hmm? Yes, I believe so. Why do you ask, Mistress? Are my strokes off?” You eye the small doll in your hand.

She lightly shakes her head, “no, your work is impeccable as always. It’s just..you’re normally more talkative.”

She almost sounds embarrassed when she answers, as if it was silly to point out the observation in the first place.

“Oh, right. I just thought I’d give you a break from my usual ramblings.”

You answer lightly while flashing her a smile, trying to hide the reason for your silence. A pregnant pause follows, and you wonder if you answered too casually, you quickly try to rectify your mistake by apologizing but her voice interrupts you.

“…..I like your voice.” She says quiet enough to be a whisper.

Your heart skips a beat at the confession and at first you feel you MUST have misheard her, that is until you notice her doing her usual self-soothing technique.

Your curiosity for what laid under Donna Beneviento’s veil would quickly disappear as you found yourself slowly falling for the soul of the woman beneath it all.

Months after that interaction, you find that very same woman slowly moving her shaky hand back to yours, gently covering it, making your heart stop.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1907 Warnings: none

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: What started as an idea back in 2017 is finally here and I’m so excited!! I hope you love it as much as I do! A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​ and to Allie @all1e23​​ who’s helped me keep my sanity while trying to write. Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

For an August evening it’s surprisingly comfortable, devoid of that awful humidity that leaves you choking on the thickness in the air. Yet it’s still warm enough to quickly melt the ice in your glass; condensation pooling on the outside, leaving a ring of water on the small stack of papers your drink is settled on.

Golden toned clouds cover the sky as the sun begins to fade, each day decreasing its presence by a few minutes before giving way to the darkness that would envelope the evening. It wasn’t a dramatic change, nor was it something most people would pay attention to, though it was something you had been accustomed to taking note of.

You looked forward to seeing the sun, feeling its heat on your skin as you stepped out of the office after a long day of work. As other people on the street rushed towards the subway you stood off to the side, letting your spirit recharge with its warm glow.

These days you seldom had time for yourself, moments when you could enjoy the nothingness, where you could stop and breathe, and take in the world around you. The murmured voices of the passersby, the hissing sound of the bus as it opens its doors, the soft strum of a guitar, the endless car horns and the sound of traffic that keeps this city alive like a beating heart.

The heat of your laptop warmed your thighs as you thumbed through a textbook. You ignored your rumbling stomach that begged you for a real dinner but you were determined to finish up this last part of your paper before you gave in to its whining demands.

You were working towards your Master’s Degree in Social Work but it had taken a lot longer than you expected, and juggling a full time job while taking part time classes made it more difficult but you were determined to achieve your dream.

You thought it would be simple when you first moved to New York; go to college, get your degree and find a job. Well, life has a funny way of doing what it wants despite the plans you imagined. Halfway through getting your undergraduate degree your living arrangements changed. Initially you were sharing an apartment with a few other students but your landlord hadn’t told you he was months into foreclosure and suddenly you found yourself scrambling to find a place to live.

The first instinct you had was to ask your current roommates if you all wanted to find something else together but one of them planned on moving in with a friend temporarily since she was about to graduate and the other wanted to live alone. You scoured the internet for another room rental but nothing looked safe or legitimate, and searching through Facebook groups for student rentals was fruitless. Nothing was available considering it was the middle of the semester, so you quickly began an apartment search.

Your definition of expensive drastically changed since moving to New York. Even simple things like food and coffee had an up charge; a small, no– large price to pay for city living, and rent was no different. You thought what you were paying to live in a small room was a lot, but as you searched for apartments your heart dropped. Even the smallest studio cost thousands a month.

There was one that caught your eye, the price was decent but still more than what you were currently paying. You attempted to work out a plan, thinking you could use some money from what little savings you had to make up the difference for the first month or two and hope your part time job would increase your hours. Things would be tight but there was a chance you could make it happen.

Your hope was crushed the next day when you went to see the apartment, a five story walk up that reeked of musty water. The cracked plaster walls were very off putting as were the suspicious black spots along the baseboards. The bathroom was much smaller than the photos, with hardly any room to even turn around in. Still you debated making this work as long as the suspected mold was taken care of until you opened the kitchen cupboards and screamed. A dark mass of large cockroaches scattered away from the light cementing your decision that you could not live here.

That night you texted your friend from home, Wanda, telling her about the horrible apartment and crying on the phone as she called to comfort you.

Wanda had been your best friend since you met in middle school. You always hoped she would join you in New York but you understood her reasons for wanting to be close to home.

“Wan, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you cried.

The clock was ticking and you still hadn’t found a place to live. Every day you searched through all the listings on Zillow, Apartments.com and Craigslist, and every day your anxiety increased. It seemed like there was no way to be a full time student if you wanted to live in New York.

You called your parents to let them know what was going on and asked for advice. Through many tears you had come to a painful decision, you needed to get a full time job. They offered to help with rent while you finished up this semester which you appreciated, knowing they really couldn’t afford the extra expense either. Your idea was to go to school part time, taking whatever courses you could at night or on the weekends. You were still reaching for your goal, you would just be taking a slower path.

A new listing popped up for an apartment in Chelsea that was about three times your current rent. Walking into the building your stomach was bubbling with excitement. Everything was bright and clean and the moment you stepped into the apartment you were overcome with joy; this place felt like home.

A smile spread across your face as you looked around the studio. Walking in there was a small kitchen to the right, with a slim refrigerator, small stove and just enough prep space beside the sink. Checking the cabinets you were relieved to know it was free of any insect roommates.

The bathroom was behind it, looking newly renovated while still emulating a classic vintage style of black and white tiles. The main room felt large with the window on the back wall letting in a good amount of sunlight. The cream colored walls also brightened the space against the longest wall of exposed, worn brick. The floors were a beautiful dark walnut that made everything feel warm.

You always thought love at first sight was a myth but you were proven wrong, you fell in love with this apartment immediately. You signed a lease and gave a deposit and suddenly everything seemed like it would fall into place. There was still the daunting task of finding a full time job but you felt encouraged.

Two weeks later you moved into your new apartment, and while you should have been studying for a test you were more interested in unpacking and decorating, making everything perfect. With a few nails into the drywall you hung a curtain rod above your bed, stringing fairy lights behind delicate sheer drapery that defined a cozy sleep space.

Laying back against your pillow you imagined what your apartment would look like eventually when you had the money to fill it with furniture, but for now it was perfect.

You had been on a few interviews and nearly had a job or two before they realized you wouldn’t be able to start for another six weeks. It was disappointing but you didn’t give up and that’s when you found yourself interviewing for Stark Industries.

A confident smile held strong on your face when you told the interviewer Ms. Parker you would be able to start when your semester was over. This led you both into a discussion about college as she told you about her teenage nephew who was interested in the STEM field and had begun looking into college options. Ms. Parker liked you a lot, and the job was yours as soon as you were ready for it.

You became the administrative assistant to Maria Hill, Director of Research and Development who worked closely with the senior staff. You had seen the infamous Tony Stark only once, popping his head out of the conference room as Ms. Hill and CEO Pepper Potts continued to chat.

From your desk you admired the women you aspired to be as confident as some day. Social work was a tough field, one where you needed to balance composure and empathy with assertiveness.

While working at Stark Industries you managed to take two classes per semester, fitting them in on nights and weekends. You wished you would have been able to do more but even this was burning you out quickly. You had little time to socialize but knew this would be worth it in the end.

A few years passed and had life not derailed your plan you would have had your Master’s by now, instead you had one last class to finish before you needed to complete 1200 hours of an internship. You pushed that off until the end, knowing it would take you some time to find a place that would accept you. Even though you would be working for free most places wanted you there at times that conflicted with your paying job.

As the sun began its slow descent the noise of the city increased and you had to shut your window to block out the sounds. All but one.

The soft guitar had increased in volume playing a familiar tune you heard every night. It wasn’t a song you’d ever heard before but your neighbor had played it often enough it was in your head. Instead of writing about a social worker’s role as an advocate for protecting human rights your mind drifted along with the melody.

It was a nice song but not one you wanted to hear every night and yet, every night your neighbor played like they were performing a concert instead of being considerate to the fact that they have neighbors, some of whom are trying to write a damn paper!

You haven’t seen this neighbor yet but you heard him moving into the apartment about a month ago. The paper thin walls allowed you to hear everything, from the instruments he played to the various women. Oh yes, he played them too, using a different one each night. Unfortunately you were able to tell the difference between each one by the sounds of the shrieks and moans that were burned into your mind until you decided to wear headphones to sleep.

Any attempts to continue your paper are futile and so you pack up your laptop and books and head down to the cafe a few blocks away that stays open late. It’s unfortunate that on top of the expensive rent and the cost of school you had to leave the comfort of your apartment to spend more money while occupying space in the cafe just to do your homework; all because of that selfish “Music Man” that you couldn’t wait to give a piece of your mind to.

PART 2

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 8

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

The angst has made it’s way into the station, everyone. Buckle up for the pain that’s going to come.

A/N: this story idea was created from receiving two prompts for Brian in the YouxIdol drabble game I was completing this year. In this part, you can find prompt #194, “I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not with you.”

Word count: 2397

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

You were anxious whilst waiting for Lily’s arrival. At first, she laughed hysterically after your announcement. However, she stopped suddenly, peering at Brian, who waved gently in response. You worried she might collapse from the reactions that seemed to rock her back and forth when in a calm voice, she told you she was on her way over and then ended the call.

You had been pacing in the hallway in front of your door ever since.

“It’s going to be fine,” Brian assured, and you nodded distantly.

“Fine. Yes. Of course.”

“I mean, I convinced you of my existence. It won’t be much for me to do the same to Lily.”

“Except part of that was you came out of the laptop in front of me.” Glancing up at him, you shoved Brian down the hallway to your office and over to the laptop. “Do it again.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a circus monkey.”

“No, but you did come in and out of the story multiple times,” you reminded, and Brian folded his arms across his chest.

“Only because you called me out.”

“So go back in and I’ll call you out when she’s here.”

Brian snorted. “And send your editor into a mess or make her faint as you did?!”

“Well, that way she won’t be able to say we’re making this up!”

“Except we’re not making this up and we’ll get through it without any stunts, okay?” he told you, rubbing your shoulders and attempting to loosen the tension within them. You slumped, hoping Brian was right.

There was a frantic knock at the door then, and Brian nodded gently before going to answer it. Peering around the corner of your living area, you watched as he greeted Lily. The woman stepped inside, circled around him and then shook her head. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“I know it seems a little implausible but-”

“Brian Kang truly exists,” Lily cut off your attempt to start the conversation, and you shared a surprised glance with Brian before stepping closer to your friend. She stared up at Brian. “Any chance Park Jinyoung exists too?”

“I’ve tried,” you mentioned in a small voice when Brian’s face grew moody and let out a little laugh. “I think we’re best off just having one literary character in our existence, right?”

You were surprised by how easily Lily accepted all this. Of course, Brian gave her a similar speech as he had to you when you came around after meeting him the first time, and answered any of her questions. But unlike you, Lily didn’t have many. Instead, she marvelled his existence up close – and rather a little too personally – before you cleared your throat and gestured for some tea.

Taking your editor into your office and shutting the door, you then sat down on the small couch across the room together.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me right away!”

“If it makes you any happier, you are the first person I’ve explained his actual existence to.”

“Brian mentioned he had met your doctor and that handsome cop you told me about,” Lily replied, and you cringed.

“Both of them don’t know the full story. In fact, I made things worse with Brian’s existence in front of Sungjin.” Lily perked at this, and you waved her off. “It’s a long story.”

“You know what isn’t, though? Eternity.” Placing down her mug of tea, Lily turned in her seat and shook your forearm gently. “You’re sitting on a gold mine here!”

“Hardly. I can write, Lily. Just not about Brian.”

“Why not?”

“It’s as you said, it’s as if I’ve sucked the life out of Brian in my story now. Because he’s out here and not in there.”

Lily grew thoughtful. “Have you asked Brian to help you write the story?”

“Well, no. I’m the writer, and he’s the character.”

“Perhaps he can assist you by making his role more organic again. After all, he knows himself best, doesn’t he?”

She had a point. “Maybe it could work.”

“I don’t blame you for being distracted lately, though. After seeing him, I don’t know how effective I’d be in person either,” she gushed, and you bit your lip as your mouth curved into a delighted smile.

“He’s magical.”

“He’s divine!” Lily enthused with you, and you both giggled.

“And he can hear you,” a voice called out from the other side of the door, and you both gripped onto the other in fright before busting out into laughter once more.

It was good having someone you could talk to fully about the man now in your life.

Lily, after calming down and draining off the rest of her tea, stood from the couch and smiled. “I trust you’ll both get the story started the way it’s meant to go, Y/N.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to be like this with my work. This series has meant a lot to me.”

“Do you need me to stay or will I get in the way of your rendezvous?” she teased, and you swatted a hand out at her. “What?! If I had a chance with someone like Brian, I’d not be able to hold back!”

“I’m decently approaching him, and that’s all there is to it!”

“Maybe you need to get more intimate then. It might help with this final part of the story.”

“Lily!” you cried as she smirked at you. “That’s not what’s in the plans for this world, and you know it!”

“Well, I didn’t expect to meet a character come to life in this world of ours, but it’s happened. Things can easily be adapted, Y/N.”

“Okay! Out with you now!” you demanded with a laugh, pushing your friend to the door of your office.

She hesitated, shooting a wicked look over your shoulder. “You’re sure you’ve done everything when it comes to seeing if Jinyoung-”

“Out!” you repeated, shoving the now laughing woman out of the room. She turned to hug you and then winked at Brian before heading for the front door.

“I expect a proper submission by next week. That’s all the extra time I’m giving you. Have fun in love, the pair of you.”

Once the door shut, Brian smiled warmly at you, capturing your cheek in the palm of his hand. “I quite like her.”

“She’s trouble,” you mentioned with a grin, nuzzling into his hand and pecking it with your lips briefly. “But she’s the right kind of trouble.”

“Sounds just how I would describe you right now,” Brian mentioned, his eyes swirling with a growing need. You knew that look all too well. It had been what had you pinned against a wall first thing this morning.

Maybe Lily was right. Your kissing sessions were only growing longer, more laboured and filling you with a desire you wanted to keep exploring.

Tugging on Brian’s hand, you made your way down to your bedroom with what you hoped to be an alluring smile.

He stopped, but only to scoop you up in his arms. “Oh, you’re definitely the right kind of trouble to have, Miss Writer.”

Despite all your efforts, the story still sat at a standpoint. You had encouraged Brian for input, and once again, you were both seated at your desk, pouring over options for the start of the story.

“It’s not working,” you complained, dropping your head to your tabletop in despair.

“We’ll find a way,” Brian said, though he looked concerned. With your realisation of this, he cleared his throat and ruffled your hair. “Honestly, how hard can this be? I’m the character, so I should know what I want to do next.”

“Do you?”

Brian slumped in his chair and shook his head. “Not a clue.”

“You, much like everyone else in this world, rely on me to write the script,” you stated, sadly and Brian rubbed at his face.

“You’re right. It’s what gave me direction, and it was the words you had started to write that helped me change the scene towards my benefit here and there.”

“So I need to write it. And you need to somehow appear whole again within the world.”

You each fell silent then, neither wanting to speak of what you had thought.

Over the past few days, you had fallen further for Brian. The love you felt for him was never-ending, and it worried you with how attached you had become to him so far. The idea of Brian ever returning to the world he came from made you sick to your stomach.

However, logic also made you realise that was where he needed to go for you to write Eternity. If he was missing from his leading role, how would you be able to pen the world in the way it was meant to be? Being at your side only delighted you, fulfilling your every need and desire.

But it wouldn’t make the story that he’d originally come from work.

You knew he was aware of this too.

Stepping out of the office without more than one line written, you both retired to the couch, sighing at separate intervals.

And then Brian turned to you. “Y/N, can we talk?”

“Always.”

“It’s not working, is it?” he murmured, and you nodded, feeling the rise of your emotions behind the backs of your eyes. You blinked, and he reached out to catch the first tear as it fell. “We’re working too well together here.”

“But the story isn’t at all,” you whispered, and Brian sighed again. “With you here, Charli and everyone else is suspended in air, waiting for your return. You exist in that world just as much as you exist here.”

“And I can’t be in both at the same time,” Brian admitted, and you dropped your head, tears spilling into your lap. “I have to go back, don’t I?”

“Maybe I don’t need to write this story. I have plenty of other ideas, and breaking out of the contract isn’t so bad, right? I mean, I’ll take a loss but I can afford to pay the publishing house-”

“Y/N,” he said, and you shook your head adamantly.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Do you think I want to either? I’m happier here than there. I want to be with you, not Charli, not in a world where I have a past that haunts me and people who want me dead. Here I can be just me. The guy who loves you.”

“You love me?” you asked, and stared up into Brian’s now glossy eyes. He smiled weakly. “Do you really love me, Brian Kang?”

“I love you,” he told you earnestly, and you leaned in to kiss him, desperation rolling between you both. It was rushed and messy, yet your hearts collided together in the middle, confirming the feelings you both had for one another. It made you want more, yearn for every part of the man you had come to love so easily in the flesh. You had loved him a whole lot longer than this, but now you could truly confirm that love came from his actions, and not how you wrote them.

Shifting back, as the tears somehow managed to still fall, your bottom lip wobbled. “I love you too.”

“Which is why you plan to send me away again, right?” Brian asked, choking on his own emotions. “I have to go so you can finish this world.”

“Can’t we just leave it?” you pleaded, and Brian shook his head. You mirrored the action, knowing you wouldn’t be satisfied either. This was a world you had created, and you couldn’t just leave it without answers to the questions you had raised so far.

“Will you come back to me?”

“As soon as you’ve written the very last word,” Brian promised, kissing your temples as you both began to cry.

Clinging onto him, Brian attempted to soothe your wild sobs, rubbing at your back whilst burying into you himself. It was heartbreaking, like any typical angst scene. You knew it had to happen for character growth, and yet this was a pinnacle moment for sheer pain. Your whole body ached at the mere concept of parting from him.

“It’s not as if I’ll leave you for good, Y/N,” Brian mentioned, as if he read your thoughts. “I’ll always be right here with you. Through the screen. You’ll see me, during moments where I go along with your story plans, and at the times I test them. You’ll know I’ll be there supporting you, and your choices in writing Eternity to the very end.”

“I know, but you won’t be here, holding me like this anymore either,” you told him, and Brian grew silent, knowing whatever he could think of to calm you now, wouldn’t. “We don’t know what will happen if you go back. Will you be able to leave me notes like last time? Or will the story suck you back in and keep you there, at Charli’s side and not mine?”

“I’ll find my way back to you, Y/N. You know I will,” Brian urged, and you held onto that hope, leaning in to kiss him once more. “I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not with you.”

“I know,” you agreed, nodding into him. Words seemed pointless now, both of you overwhelmed by the decision.

Eventually, Brian helped you up, taking you down the hallway to your bedroom, and laying with you as he had started to do recently. Somehow, you fell into dreams, of you and Brian together, married, with children and living out your domestically and homely life together. He was right. You didn’t aspire to be in the front limelight of anything apart from your simple goals in life.

With him at your side.

Yet, when the morning shone through, and you opened your eyes, you were alone in bed.

And there laid a note on the pillow Brian had once rested his head upon.

I love you, Y/N. I will come back to you as soon as I can.

As the tears formed in your eyes, you got up from your bed and went into the office, staring at the open screen of your laptop. Waking it up, there was the document for Eternity waiting for you to continue.

The words finally came.

_________________

Part 9

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[honeymoonjin]

10k for 10k drabble

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 hoseok x reader || 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 1k || 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 smut, nsfw, rated 18+

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 your boyfriends hoseok and namjoon take you shopping for the next outfit you can wear to a play party. 

contains sexually explicit content: fingering, bdsm relationship, dom!namjoon, dom!hoseok, sub!reader, orgasm control, edging

PART OF THE 10K FOR 10K MILESTONE CELEBRATION and sponsored by  a donation to the Black Lives Matter movement.

Please read the original first if you haven’t already.

---

“Give us a twirl.”

You smirk and acquiesce, catching sight of yourself in the tall mirror as you do so. It hadn’t been an hour since you’d began trying on clothes, and already you’d gone from trying on cute sweaters and jeans to miniskirts, crop tops and even some lingerie from the sale section.

Not that you three couldn’t afford decent lingerie, but Hoseok seemed to find the $5 G-strings and thin cotton bralettes almost hotter than expensive ones. Hardly any fabric, flimsy enough that he could tear them off you and cheap enough that you wouldn’t be angry if he did.

You currently find yourself in a classic burgundy set lined with poorly cut and slightly itchy lace. The panties sit awkwardly on top of your own pair according to the rules of the store, and you’re barefoot after slipping off your shoes to undress, but none of these factors phase your boyfriends for a second.

Before you’re even done spinning a slow circle, hands are on your hips and in your hair, Namjoon holding your back against his chest and Hoseok’s teeth nipping at your lips. You suck in a breath, tinted with the sunny scent of his cologne, and they’re both walking you back into the changing booth.

The other advantage of cheap clothing stores like these is that you never really bother being all that careful. There are a hundred and one of them in your area and getting kicked out from one doesn’t really ever bother you. Not that it’s happened yet, but sweet law-abiding Namjoon certainly finds it easier knowing that at least it isn’t a big deal if you do get caught.

“Let’s take these off, hm?” You suck in a gasp as you hear Namjoon’s voice in your ear, his fingers slipping down to push off the unbought panties. “We don’t want to stain these.”

Left in your own, admittedly still skimpy and barely covering your core, you sigh in pleasure as you feel fingers run down your folds, pressing the fabric into your wet heat slightly.

You clench around Hoseok’s fingertips and he grins into the kiss in response. Your makeup would no doubt be a mess after this – it was already starting to shift and smudge on your face – and your legs felt shaky enough as it is. But that doesn’t change the need between your legs. “S-Sir,” you gasp into his mouth. “Need you.”

Namjoon, straightened back up, pulls your hair back so he can press kisses to your shoulder and neck. “You know the rules. Still going to play nice for us and behave?”

You nod shakily. “I’ll be good, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Following the signal, Hoseok slips the sopping fabric of your panties to one side and pushes a single finger deep inside you. You clench automatically, going lax against Namjoon’s chest as Hoseok teases you.

Though Hoseok’s fingers are long, they’re slender, and he’s well aware it isn’t enough for you. You wriggle in Namjoon’s grip as your other boyfriend stares you down, daring you to beg for more.

But the airy pop music and squeaking of clothes racks are so near, that you know you wouldn’t be able to get your way without them hearing. If you tried whispering, he’d just tell you to speak up.

Relying on body language, you furrow your brows pleadingly and squeeze around him as he thrusts unbearably slowly.

After what feels like an eternity, he takes mercy and adds another finger, picking up the pace just enough that you can hear how wet you are. Namjoon’s teeth find your earlobe, tugging at it and sucking the sensitive flesh to make you tremble, your breath sounding far too loud in the semi-public space.

“Good?”

You gasp and nod in response to Hoseok’s words, but he’s not satisfied with your silence.

“Say, ‘I like it, Sir.’”

You moan pitifully. “I like it, Sir.”

“Louder.”

“I c-can’t.” His fingers slow down inside you as punishment, making you push back in frustration, trying to fuck yourself on them. “They’ll hear.”

“Who? The people outside? Poor girl doesn’t want those innocent customers to hear how much of a slut she is,” Hoseok remarks to Namjoon like it amuses him.

You bite down hard on your lip as he curls his fingers slowly, Namjoon’s arm reaching up higher to brace across your throat, more of a threat than any real pressure. He laughs when you melt under him. “I don’t know why she’s worried,” Namjoon comments as if you’re not right in front of him, “I’m sure they’ve all already heard her wet little pussy.”

Your heart stops as you hear the click of heels, a friendly rap on the door.

Your boyfriends go silent.

“All good in here? Any different sizes you want to try?” The store assistant’s friendly voice just grates against your frayed nerves, but the guys you’re in the stall with don’t seem nearly as bothered.

“We’re fine,” Hoseok chirps back easily, slipping his fingers out to push three in instead, grinning wickedly at the way your jaw falls slack. “The fit is a little tight, but it’s good that way.”

“Uh- okay, sure!” the assistant hesitantly calls out. “Just give me a holler if you need anything.”

Your breath only returns to your lungs once you can no longer hear the clipping of her heels, but Hoseok has no intention of letting you breathe freely for long.

His fingers work back to a sinful pace, crooked just enough that they stroke over your most sensitive parts with every stroke. Though his hair threatens to fall over his eyes, he doesn’t stop for a second, reveling in the noise it makes and the way your thighs clench around his wrist.

In your ear, Namjoon murmurs softly, tightening his grip over your throat just enough for you to feel the slight constriction. “Hoseok and I have decided, baby girl. We like this lingerie set, but it’s not our favorite.”

Your heart drops as your orgasm draws near. “No, no no no,” you rush out, hips following every movement of Hoseok’s fingers.

Namjoon sighs like it pains him. “You know the rules. Maybe next time.”

So close. “No, don’t-” You jerk in frustration as Hoseok rips his fingers from you the second before you’re about to cum. Namjoon’s hand shifts up to cover your mouth so you can moan out your desperation, but neither of them budge.

“Alright, princess,” Hoseok guides, sucking your arousal off his fingers, “go out and find another set. If we like it enough, you might get to cum.”

[spyder-m]

Zerith Week, Day 1: "Sanctuary"

My contribution for @zerith-week, Day 1: Church.

Summary: On her way back from down to the Sector 5 Slums, Aerith happens by two injured Soldiers passed out at the station. With seemingly no one interested in helping them, she took it upon herself to step in. Zack lives AU.

Chapter I: "Angels With Dirty Faces"

Next | FF.net | AO3 | Twitter

.

“Phew, finally. We made it!”

“Urgh.”

Cloud garbled unintelligibly in response, his head lulling slack against Zack’s shoulder, before his body stilled once more. The shift was minimal, but enough to assure Zack that Cloud was still with him.

“Come on, Cloud,” Zack joked, readjusting his grip. “You could stand to be a little more enthusiastic.

Though the light-hearted quip went unanswered, it brought as much comfort to Zack as he hoped it did his friend.

It was a remnant of their old lives, the same banter they had shared back in Midgar. After seemingly everything they trusted in had been ripped away, he liked having that familiar certainty. Even now as those moments seemed at a completely distant, unreachable place in time, Zack would do all that he could to keep even a piece of them intact.

While Cloud didn't seem entirely cognisant, his company had been integral to Zack, imbuing him with the invaluable mental and emotional strength to carry through.

Internally, he was a wreck. He had no idea what was wrong with Cloud, who’d been unresponsive for months; their entire trip to Midgar. Frankly, it scared him.

Yet, he couldn’t let that fear show in his expression. He didn’t want Cloud, likely already scared himself, to worry. If Zack seemed uneasy, it may only serve to further rupture Cloud’s will, his psyche, at a point where it needed to be at its strongest.

Zack had wondered briefly what state Shinra HQ would be in now; with most of their top-ranked Soldiers either deceased or missing. He didn’t care to find out, firsthand though. Not when it would be far safer, he felt, to stick to Midgar’s Slums, knowing Shinra’s presence wasn’t as prominent underneath the plate.

Much of the slums were plagued by sickness and destitution. Monsters lingered on the outskirts of sectors and the roads and tunnels linking them, with many citizens open-carrying weapons to defend themselves. For that reason, Zack had been confident that the presence of two injured Soldiers wouldn’t appear too out of place or draw unwanted attention.

Still, he couldn’t be careless. The trains were overflowing with passengers; slum-dwellers who worked above the plate returning home. Knowing the likelihood of Shinra employees being among them, Zack had opted to sneak aboard one of the train’s rear compartments, intended for carrying cargo rather than passengers.

They still weren’t alone, but the train ride into Sector 5 passed without incident. Anyone unnerved by their presence simply chose to move to a different carriage.

Unfortunately, though, as he stepped out onto the station platform, Zack was beginning to sense a different, perhaps even more sinister, threat looming over him. His vision was beginning to fade, darkness seeping steadily into his periphery. The exhaustion and pain from the, fortunately, non-fatal wounds he had succumbed to was starting to weigh heavily upon him.

It was as though the urge to reach Midgar had been all that had fuelled him before, that determination helping him to channel strength beyond even his own supernatural limits. Yet now that he had succeeded, his body felt it could give out.

Zack grit his teeth, harnessing what little strength he had left within him to stay conscious. He had already crossed entire continents and stowed away on ships, all the while fending off platoons of men tracking them. Surely, he could make these last few miles into the Slums.

As Zack’s head lifted groggily, he scanned the near distance, squinting to make out the scrap yard stretching in front of him. His stomach sank.

Even if the monsters lurking there weren't the strongest, it would still be dangerous. They usually travelled in packs and, in his current state, Zack wasn’t sure he’d be able to effectively divide his attention between multiple enemies, as well as keep an eye on Cloud.

He had a bad feeling that they would end up as Gorger food.

Zack couldn't fall to such feeble prey, not after everything he'd pulled through.

So, spotting the nearby bench and vending machines, Zack cut a deal with himself.

Against his better judgement, he decided to take a brief rest. Just enough that he could regain his strength and fight safely through the scrapyards, but nothing more.

At least, that had been his hope.

.

Aerith sighed as she stepped off the train, lowering her still full basket of flowers.

Yet another day had passed and she hadn't been able to sell anything topside.

Despite being able to afford the luxury, the people above the plate showed little interest; rarely even acknowledging her presence.

She couldn't understand. Everyone in the Slums seemed to value the plant life much more, enjoying the way it brightened the drab mesh of concrete and steel shanties, giving it a more homely feel.

Still, as futile as her efforts seemed, Aerith would always make the trip; treasuring what few gil she could pull in to help out her mother.

As her eyes lifted, Aerith caught the last rays of what little daylight broke through the gaps in the steel sky. Conscious it wouldn’t be long before twilight began to set in, Aerith's gait picked up.

She had been volunteering at a soup kitchen being run by the Sector’s Church recently and didn't want to be late.

It only seemed fair to assist the priest who let her grow and sell flowers there. Besides, she found the work very fulfilling.

Whether she was brightening people's spirits by spreading her flowers throughout the Slums or providing warm meals and shelter to those who were struggling to find their own. It helped harbour an atmosphere far friendlier than compared to the one above the plate, creating a sense of community, of people who, despite struggling, were always willing to help one another out.

As Aerith crossed the station, her focus was broken by a vibrant shock of yellow entering her periphery, tugging her in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, any thought of needing to rush towards the Church was abandoned as she was drawn to the sight of two young men; not much older than her; slumped against the bench, their eyes closed.

At a cursory glance, it might not have seemed out of the ordinary; as though they were simply resting. Yet, from the state of their clothes and the dirt marring their skin, Aerith could tell they must have fallen on hard times.

Still, despite being in clear view, many commuters passed them by without so much as a second thought.

Aerith exhaled calmly, allowing those passersby the benefit of the doubt. For all she knew, they too were struggling and didn’t have much to their name that could help. Still, the matter was sensitive to her. Her own birth mother had passed away in a similar fashion, Elmyra being the only one to approach and try to help.

Kneeling down, Aerith glanced over the two more closely, in particular, noticing their clothes. Her eyes widened as she placed the dark, sleeveless sweaters and trousers, shoulder pauldrons, standard dress for members of Soldier.

It wasn’t uncommon for men and women leaving the military to end up like this, out on the streets. After the war ended, Shinra had suddenly found itself no longer needing so many large platoons of men, and there were only so many troops needed to patrol the streets. Because of this, many ended up being discharged and struggled to find work; the skills they’d honed under Shinra not translating well to other professions.

Though, what puzzled Aerith was that these two were not mere low-level guards. They bore the Uniform of ranked Soldiers, the company’s elite warriors. Which made her wonder how and why they could have ended up in this position? Surely, the company wouldn't want to let them go? Especially when she’d been hearing rumours that some of their most-decorated, highest ranked members had been declared MIA. Even if they did, wouldn't their skills be highly sought after? They shouldn't have had a problem finding work.

Still, regardless of the details, Aerith knew better than to judge. She didn't know their situation and didn't need to. For now, all that mattered was that they needed help.

She looked over the brunette nearest to her, a gasp breaking from her lips. She could make out patches of blood soaking through the dark material of his turtleneck, dried flecks crusting over his bare arms. Her hands hovered over him, calling on the power of healing magic. Yet the energy that surrounded him seemed to have little effect, as though there were no wounds that needed tending to.

Studying him, curious, Aerith found she couldn't see any obvious cuts or bruises. She could even hear him breathing softly, a sound that seemed to carry over the cacophony of the station, instilling the hope that perhaps he might be alright.

The blond at his side, however, seemed to be in a bad way. From the short distance she’d clocked them at, she hadn’t realised that his eyes were actually open. Though, they were glazed and unfocused.  Even if she were to meet his gaze, Aerith could tell she wouldn’t be able to get through to him.

The wounds he bore must have cut deeper, perhaps a trauma he still carried after being exposed to the atrocity and horror of war.

It was fortunate for her that one of the doctors in Sector 5 owed her a favour. She had been supplying him with rare herbs for his medicines and might be willing to treat these two. Though, getting them to the clinic wouldn’t be so simple.

Aerith supposed she could always find the doctor herself and bring him here, but she worried what may happen if she left them alone.

She might be able to help the blond, who was closer to her height and had a leaner build, but there was no way she could manage both. Especially not the dark-haired one, who, though malnourished, seemed much taller and bulkier.

Even if she could, she would still have to navigate through the backstreets and scrapyards where monsters lurked. Though she was certainly capable with a staff and her Cetra bloodline leant itself to a natural aptitude for magic, she would be hindered if she had to support someone.

It was obvious that she was going to need help.

As her eyes flickered across the crowd, hoping to find someone she knew, the brunette stirred, an exhale breaking from his lips. Aerith was pulled toward the sound, immediately catching the flutter of his eyelids.

He was regaining consciousness.

The sight gave her a flash of hope, as she wondered if he might have the strength to stand on his own. That could certainly make the trip the rest of the way into Sector 5 easier.

Tentatively, her hand reached out to touch his shoulder, a feather-light caress.

“A- Are you alright?”

His body sprung swiftly into motion at the contact, lashing out with the instinct of a wounded animal. Aerith lurched back, feeling her heart flutter unsteadily with the sudden movement. That pattern carried on as she took in the strong contours of his face and the few, errant strands of hair that hung over it. Her breath hitched in her throat as she was taken by the pure, shining blue of his eyes.

As the haze clouding Zack’s senses began to dissipate, he was overwhelmed by light shimmering through soft, chestnut hair, framing a brilliant emerald. He squinted, unsure if the presence was solid, or some ethereal vision.

While crossing the barren outskirts of Midgar, Zack had fallen prey to the odd mirage, finding images of Angeal or his parents burnt across the horizon. Whether it was a result of the climate or perhaps his declining condition, he wasn’t sure. But he wouldn’t overlook the possibility that he was still disoriented, imagining the presence of others.

He had certainly been starved for the company.

Surely, this seemed too bright and otherworldly, to be something, someone, underneath the plate. Perhaps, he wondered, he was returning to the planet.

“Heaven?” He muttered.

Blinking, it took Aerith a moment before her mind could piece together a coherent response. Conscious of the dire situation, she let out a forced, breathy laugh.

“Not quite. But I can see why you might think that.”

Aerith cringed, quickly realising her words hadn’t been the most sensitive. She had hoped some humour might be enough to ease the tension.

“I was just wondering if you were okay," she continued. "There’s a clinic not far from here, they’ll be able to help you and your friend out. I can show you the way if you like?”

Zack eyed her, at first, sceptical. His gaze scanned the perimeter, wondering if perhaps this was a ploy, expecting to spot a squadron of Shinra waiting to ambush him the moment he followed her.

Yet, the distinct, foreboding rush of dread that anticipated such an attack was something he’d become familiar with; particularly these last few months. For the moment, he couldn’t sense it.

Much of Zack’s journey had been bolstered by placing his trust in others, even when it didn't seem a hundred percent certain. There was Cissnei, who agreed to turn a blind eye and not inform Shinra of his whereabouts, the old guy who had given him and Cloud a lift.

Zack supposed he could tempt fortune once more.

“Alright,” he answered. "Lead the way."

He moved to stand; Cloud’s arm still draped around his neck; but staggered, almost losing his balance. Aerith's hands hung hesitantly by his shoulder, ready to offer to support some of the weight.

“Do you... need any help?”

"N- no, I've got this.” He grimaced, glance flickering briefly toward the sword still fixed at his back. “Though, I don't know that I'd be much good in a fight right now."

“No worry,” Aerith reassured, retrieving her staff. “You can leave that to me.”

.

Despite the obvious weariness bearing down upon him, Zack had been quite adamant that he, and only he, carry his friend; Cloud.

They had made their introductions briefly, before setting off. Aerith wasn’t sure what had compelled her to share her name. Perhaps she thought that if he knew it, he may be more open to trusting her. For now, he seemed somewhat apprehensive, as he trailed behind her, keeping a slight distance.

It would fall to her to fend off any monsters that crossed their paths.

Luckily, the packs of wererats they encountered were small and easy to keep track of. The fact that they tended to target the bigger, more immediate threats also proved advantageous, as; despite the giant sword at his back; Zack did not appear particularly imposing right now.

Before they could even think of calling upon their friends, Aerith was quick to rain ice spells down.

She led them safely the rest of the way to the clinic, just down from the Leafhouse.

Their late-afternoon arrival was opportune, as it meant she wouldn’t run into any of the kids, who were likely either inside or at their secret hideout. She suspected that the sight of her guiding two bloody, injured Soldiers might be cause for concern. It also meant there were no other patients being attended to, as they turned up just before the clinic was set to close for the evening.

The doctor’s head was bowed, looking over some paperwork when the door creaked open, his eyes lifting. Aerith’s hand rose in a sheepish wave as Zack stumbled in through behind her.

Gaze flickering toward the prone, motionless body balanced at Zack’s side, he swiftly rose from his desk, moving into action. Such a scene was not uncommon among the slums, it seemed.

“Move him to one of the beds in the back. I’ll examine him there.”

Suddenly, Zack grew apprehensive, his grip tightening instinctively, protectively, around Cloud. There was something about the room, the entire situation that unnerved him. The stranger’s white lab coat, their glasses, the stench of chemicals permeating the space. The cold, drab walls and equipment littered about the bench; needles, vials of unfamiliar substances.

It felt all too familiar.

He couldn’t trust it.

But, perhaps more crucially, Cloud was one of the few people left who Zack felt he could trust. After the lengths he had gone through to keep him from harm, Zack was not willing to hand him over so easily. His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint shining through, enough for the man to recoil.

Catching the tension etched across his features, Aerith’s fingers treaded lightly against his back, immediately drawing his intense glare away.

“It’s okay,” she reassured. “He’s just trying to help.”

As Aerith held his gaze, her eyes shining with sincerity and conviction, Zack could sense his more jaded, survival instincts ebbing away, as he wondered if he had a reason to doubt her.

She had found he and Cloud in trouble and, unlike most, went out of her way to offer help. She had led them all the way to his clinic, even fighting off monsters to ensure that they would make it safely. Those acts did not reflect someone with ulterior motives. Surely, if she had wanted to take advantage of them, it would have been easier to do so while they were passed out?

Besides, while he had managed to get this far on his own, Zack knew there were things he wouldn’t be able to do by himself. As much as it pained him to admit, he couldn’t help Cloud.

Begrudgingly, Zack guided Cloud over to the bed. Setting him down carefully with the doctor’s assistance.

Producing a small torch, he shone the light directly into Cloud’s eyes, noting how his pupils constricted. He was responding; that much was a relief.

Lifting his finger, the doctor dragged it in a straight line across Cloud’s eyeline. Cloud, however, was slow and languid in following the motion.

“Mako poisoning. Looks like a pretty serious case too. I can’t imagine how he’d have experienced such direct exposure.”

Zack grit his teeth. Having already received Mako injections as part of his induction into Soldier, he had a much better tolerance. Cloud, however, had not seen any direct exposure before. It was no wonder his body reacted poorly.

Not to mention, prospective Soldiers were typically given much smaller, controlled doses over time, allowing them to gradually adjust. They weren’t soaked in tiny tubes filled to the brim with the stuff!

As Zack stewed over bitter, disjointed memories of Hojo’s experiments, for the first time during the examination, the doctor’s curiosity won out.

“What exactly happened to him?”

Zack hesitated, unsure of how much detail he should go into. He knew it was counterproductive to lie, especially to someone only trying to help. After all, even the most innocuous information may have helped in assisting Cloud’s recovery.

But, could he really tell him that they’d both been sealed in vats of Mako and experimented on? That he wasn’t even entirely sure how long that process had lasted? That they’d escaped and spent the better part of a year evading Shinra? Sure, Zack was vaguely aware of doctor-patient confidentiality, but wasn’t sure it extended to dishonoured Soldiers on the run.

He couldn’t risk it.

“There was an open pool of Mako. He, uh- Fell in.” Zack lied.

The look the doctor gave was scrutinising, all furrowed lines and narrowed eyes. It was obvious that he didn’t believe him. Zack’s hand rubbed at the back of his head, a nervous tick. For the time being, he did not acknowledge Zack’s dishonesty, instead continuing with the treatment.

“We have a means to treat this, fortunately.” The doctor continued, producing an elixir from one of the cabinets behind him. “Though, given his current condition, it would normally need to be administered intravenously.”

Zack nodded, unable to contain the flash of disappointment. Of course. This was a small clinic in the slums. There was no way they’d have access to that kind of technology. In yet another cruel twist, just as he thought he’d found a way for Cloud to get better, it was ripped away from him.

Surprisingly, though, the doctor did not seem discouraged, a prospect that gave Zack the smallest flicker of hope.

Positioning Cloud onto his side, the doctor began to pry his mouth open before slowly trickling the liquid inside. The sight woke panic in Zack, who feared that he may choke. That is until he saw the bobbing of Cloud’s throat, swallowing the mixture down. Zack’s bewilderment must have been shown in his expression, as the doctor offered an explanation.

“Keeping the airways clear is something deeply tied to our physiology. Even in the most vegetative state the body still retains its ability to swallow.”

His words brought Zack relief, as he watched Cloud drank down the last of the medicine.

“He should be fine. It’ll take some time to flush the Mako out of his system, though. It would be best if he spent the night here, just to be safe.”

“Then I’ll stay here too.”

As he spoke, Zack could feel the doctor’s eyes shifting now to examine him. The thorough and concise way he analysed him made Zack uneasy, still.

“You are fortunate to not be in the same position,” he said. “Though I am concerned by the amount of blood you appear to have lost.”

“Don’t worry,” Zack dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Most of it’s not even mine.”

“You may feel fine, but you’re still running on adrenaline. You’re going to feel the effects once it wears off. It would be best if you were to rest.

“I’m fine,” Zack pushed, stubborn. As if to further emphasise the point he pulled up a nearby chair, perching himself by the head of Cloud’s bed.

“Have it your way,” the doctor sighed, moving back out into the reception area; perhaps to speak with Aerith. “Though there are more beds available should you change your mind.”

It may have been reckless on Zack’s part, but he had his reasons. It had been unsettling when he first entered the Clinic. He could only imagine the panic Cloud would wake in if he found himself in a strange room. He may fear for the worst, thinking they had been captured by Shinra. If Zack was there, his presence might calm him down.

Besides, even if he wanted to, Zack didn’t think he’d be able to sleep right now. Not until he was sure that Cloud was better.

It wasn’t long, though, before he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. Suddenly feeling much less resistance to the sleep trying to take him.

Cloud was still recovering, but ultimately, in a better place; out of Hojo’s clutches. The realisation left Zack content, knowing that he could, seemingly, finally relax.

That they were safe, for the time being.

.

“You’re still here? I guess you were serious about staying.”

Zack blinked, looking around the room. He hadn’t realised how long it had been, finding darkness now blanketing the streets outside.

From the doorway, Aerith hovered in his periphery, her voice reaching out to him from a distance. She offered a soft smile as he eventually turned in her direction.

“If you really don’t want to sleep, why don’t you stop by the Community Centre next door? You’ll at least be able to clean yourself up and get something to eat.”

Zack could feel his stomach churn at the mere mention of food. The offer was tempting. He hadn’t been able to change his clothes or bathe for several months and had eaten only when the opportunity presented itself.

But, he still had doubts. For the time being, he’d feel safe lying low somewhere. Right now, this clinic seemed to fit the bill.

Though, Zack sighed, finding it cruel to refuse her. Particularly when she was being so kind, going to such lengths to help him, to no benefit of her own. But this was just the situation they were facing. He needed to be practical.

“I’d like to, but...”

Zack trailed off, eyes flickering back toward the bed where Cloud rested, the lone gesture more than conveying the reason for his hesitance. Aerith’s eyes softened, cradling a hand over her chest. She admired his steadfast dedication to his friend. The fact that he would value his well being over his own to such an extent. He was so selfless, albeit to a fault.

It was time that someone looked out for him.

“I understand. But if you aren’t careful, there’s going to be two people who end up bed-ridden and I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

She set her hands at her hips and scowled in mock admonishment, doing her best to mimic the same pose her mother would adopt if ever she was misbehaving. Zack couldn’t help the chuckle that broke his lips with the sudden shift.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“How about this? You can stay here and I’ll bring something back for you, sound good? There was actually somewhere I was supposed to be helping out tonight, but… something else came up...”

Her voice dragged into silence and Zack smirked.

“You sure are connected, huh?” He teased.

.

The soup Aerith brought back was light and warm as it trickled down his throat. Zack shivered, feeling it heat up his chest, in stark contrast to the rain-soaked sweater that was still clinging to his body.

He was surprised by the broth’s vibrant flavour. He would have thought good quality vegetables would be difficult to come by. Though, that may have also been due in part to this being the first proper meal he had been able to enjoy in months.

Still, it tasted divine.

Though his stomach grumbled, aching for more, Zack pushed down the urge to greedily suckle up every last drop before him. He knew he needed to pace himself, that he could get ill if he suddenly gorged his malnourished body too quickly. It was a problem Soldiers faced, when on long missions and short on rations.

Soup was a safe option to start with, though. The fresh vegetables would help settle his stomach and allow him to eventually move onto something heavier.

As he continued to savour the dish, he could feel Aerith’s gaze covering him. He glanced up, greeted by her warm smile.

“Like it? I have some more if you want. Or we could keep it for Cloud.”

Setting down his bowl, Zack did not answer for the moment. Instead, he mirrored her expression, sincere and unyielding.

“I really appreciate this, Aerith.”

“O- oh, it’s nothing, really.”

“Are you kidding? Things were touch and go for us for a while there. But thanks to you, I’ll think we’ll be okay. I have to repay you somehow.”

Zack pondered for a moment, unsure of how he could even begin to repay the lengths she had gone to for him.

He didn’t have any gil, or really... anything of monetary value to his name. Perhaps once he had settled into town and found some work he’d be able to repay her. But, money didn’t seem adequate to cover just how indebted he was to Aerith.

If it weren’t for her, Cloud might have never had a chance to recover.

One thing he knew for certain, he was actually enjoying her company and would like to keep spending time with her.

“I know,” he decided eventually. “How about one date?”

“Hmm?” Aerith considered, fingers pressing at her chin. “Spending time with you is a reward, is it?”

“Well, you got us food this time around. It’s only fair that I return the favour.”

“I keep telling you, it’s fine. Besides, I wouldn’t want to trouble you. I get the impression you aren’t exactly rolling in gil right now”

“Maybe not at the moment, but a man of my skills? I could be a mercenary, and take on any job. It won’t be long before I’ve found work.”

“Is that so?” She teased. “I don’t seem to recall you doing much monster-fighting today.”

“It’s true there’s no way I could compare to you, but I’ll have you know I’m quite handy with a sword.”

“Really? I guess I’ll have to hire you and find out for myself.”

“I’ll be there. Just say the word.”

Zack was surprised. He’d always thought himself friendly, amiable. But not since he had first met Cloud, could Zack recall jelling so effortlessly with another person; enjoying that same easy banter. That he was opening up so readily after what he and Cloud had just been through.

The conversation dipped as they continued to eat, silently.

That is, until he caught the basket of flowers resting in the corner of the room. That’s right, Zack recalled. Aerith had had those with her when she had found them at the station.

It was a hard detail to miss. You didn’t often see flowers around Midgar. It piqued his curiosity. They must have been important if she had made the effort to bring them all the way here with her.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, but… what’s with the flowers?”

“Oh! I sell them. I actually forgot I had left them here. But, I suppose it doesn’t matter. They do make for a nice gift for someone who isn’t feeling well, after all. I’m sure Cloud will appreciate them.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You’re not jealous, are you?” She goaded.

Before Zack could offer any retort, a strained groan broke from the opposite side of the room. His voice caught, a tightness constricting his throat. Before him, Aerith froze, her hand in the midst of raising a spoonful of soup to her lips. Zack’s head whipped back toward the bed as the sheets ruffled under the distinct movement of Cloud’s body.

“Cloud?!”

“Z- Zack?”

Immediately, Zack sprung forward, stopping abruptly by the head of Cloud’s bed. His voice had been weak, his features scrunching up as he struggled to keep his bleary, eyes open.  Yet, it was more life than he could recall seeing from his friend in months. Zack laughed, tears of relief beading in the corners of his eyes.

“I guess you were right. The flowers did make a difference.”

[masjestickingdom]

My Little Secret (Part 3)

Pairing: NCT Jaehyun x reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Welcome to the house of torture, where you find yourself struggling to survive.

Note: This is the last installment of “My Little Secret”! It was supposed to be longer (seriously, way longer), but I decided to cut it down. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to upload today. If you haven’t read part 1 or part 2, check them out here or here. Enjoy! 

____________________________________________________________________________          

    It was day two of you living in the house of torture, and the torture began with a simple call. Nothing was more tiring than the constant cries of your morning alarm, but nothing was more frightening than waking up to the screaming ringtone of your phone before your alarm. It was five minutes till five in the morning, and Johnny was calling you--nothing about it was a good sign.

    The week before you had temporarily moved into the Jung, Lee, Kim household, Johnny and you were promoted to one of the higher positions in your department, effectively ending your boss-and-subordinate position with Jia and subsequently her frequent calls, which you felt sorry to whomever would take your position. Instead, your calls came from Johnny, who was your partner-in-crime in the company since you two were exclusively the two assistants of Chris, your current boss.

    With you groggily forcing yourself up your bed, the phone kept ringing across the room. You were trying that “life hack” of waking up in one try by having your phone away from easily accessible areas around you, but with the surprise calls, you were sure to give up the habit soon.

    “What?” you said grouchily into the speaker once you barely made it to your desk.

    “Yeesh, I woke the Grinch up,” Johnny responded jokingly.

    You wouldn’t have it. “It’s almost five, Johnny. We leave for work at seven.”

    Cue the dramatic list of things you had to do that day, commencing your wonderful morning of your second day in the house that wasn’t yours. That was just a small appetizer of the horrors of your mornings there. They were nothing in comparison to your nights when you would return to the sweet smell of whatever dish Doyoung or Jaehyun were cooking but couldn’t afford to eat with the work you had to do. They paled in comparison to your lonely nights up in the kitchen, fetching water while looking over some thick files in the dimly-lit kitchen. They were a speck of dust in comparison to the nights when you actually had the time to sleep, yet you couldn’t. You would lie awake in bed, drowning yourself in a whirlpool of the same thoughts. What kind of thoughts? Surprisingly, none of them had to do with your work. No, you were sick of it. Rather, they were the kind of thoughts that involved the certain man sleeping in the next room.

    Caught up with work, it wasn’t hard to swallow your feelings about Jaehyun whenever you two were in the same room, an occurrence that was rare with your crazy schedule and Jaehyun’s focus on Jaehyung. Sometimes, you would wonder why your sister suggested that you filled in her spot while she was away when all you would do was work even in the house.

    Days rolled by quicker than you expected, and they were unsurprisingly unpleasant. You were able to suppress your feelings for Jaehyung to some degree and could hold conversations with him, building the foundation of your guys’ relationship as in-laws. You even initiated the conversations sometimes. But all that just reminded you that you couldn’t have him, and it was killing you.

    Soon, it was the second to last day at the house, and you (thankfully) had the day off. You had told Jaehyun the night before to relax so that you could start taking care of Jaehyung more, but the kind father refused. So there you were on the couch, watching Jaehyung’s favorite movie with everyone else in the living room. It was one of the rare moments when Jaehyung stayed quiet, his eyes watching the screen with so much anticipation that you wanted to pinch his cheeks. You didn’t, of course, since you didn’t want to pull him out of his zone. Instead, you focused your attention to the movie, which you admittedly thought was entertaining

    Lunch rolled by like a breeze and Jaehyung was sound asleep in his room. Before you knew it, you were back in your room on your laptop, looking over the interview Johnny had with one of the most renowned artists of the digital age even though it was your day off.

    “Johnny, I think you can send it to Chris,” you spoke into your speaker, making small commentary on a few slides. “It looks great.”

    Despite giving him the okay sign to proceed with the presentation, you sensed that there was hesitation on the other line.

    “What?” you asked, an ugly feeling clawing into you. “What’s wrong?”

    Another moment of silence sunk in before Johnny dropped the bomb. “Chris also told me that Jack’s manager called.”

    You drew a sharp breath inward. “No.”

    From your friend’s visibly frustrated sigh, you could only imagine your boss’ deeply furrowed eyebrows. “Don’t tell me he canceled.”

    “He said something about schedule conflicts.”

    There was no better word than exasperation to describe how you felt. Jack was someone everyone from Asia to North America knew. He was the guy that everyone wanted to get an interview of--he always turned offers down. Somehow, Chris managed to get a hold of his manager and arranged a meeting for both an interview and a photoshoot, but there was always an unspoken tension that whispered an ominous message that Jack would cancel. The main story for your November issue was now empty.

    “That jackass,” you murmured under your breath as you furiously typed a message to Chris on your phone. “With two days from the shoot he’s bailing? Unbelievable.”

    “Chris already said that there was nothing we could do about it,” Johnny said, stopping you from your impetuous typing. “So don’t request that we call Jack’s manager again.”

    “We can’t just let this egoistic man do whatever he pleases,” you huffed furiously. “Our entire team has been working day and night for this, and the one day we’re let to rest is the day he decides to suddenly say that he won’t be cooperating. The audacity of this man to cancel two days before the shoot is unacceptable. Just who on Earth does he think he is?”

    By the time you were done ranting, you were already seated on the edge of your bed, pulling up your socks.

    “A worldwide superstar,” Johnny candidly replied to your rhetorical question.

    “Well he obviously needs a wake-up call,” you grumbled. “Can you send me his address?”

    Rummaging through your bag in an effort to find your keys, you heard Johnny say, “You don’t even know if he’ll be there.”

    “So I’ll camp out.”

    At that statement, Johnny decided against picking up a fight. He knew better than to have you get riled up even more. You were on your way out when Jaehyun came out of his room with Mark and asked where you were going.

    “Work,” you said over your shoulder before swiftly leaving the house before anyone could say anything else.

    “Isn’t it her day off?” Mark uttered when he recovered from the fact that you had just gotten away in a blink of an eye. “It’s a national holiday.”

    With a frown, the taller man stared at the door. “Jaehyung was looking forward to spending the afternoon with her.”

    “Maybe she’ll come back soon.” 

    It was midnight by the time you had personally convinced Jack to take part in the interview and photoshoot. You had waited in your car for six hours in front of his house, hoping that each car that passed by belonged to Jack. At the second hour mark, Johnny joined you in the waiting session, originally there to tell you that you were crazy until he gave in. For half an hour, Jack refused to let you in. He thought you were a fan at first, but even after you cleared the misinterpretation, he still refused to let you in, let alone be the main story of the magazine. It didn’t matter if the wind was frosting your hands or freezing your ears: you had to convince Jack. After waiting outside at his gates for another four hours, you successfully got the conceited man to let you in for only five minutes.

    “You’re seriously crazy,” Johnny breathed out into the cold night the moment you two stepped out of Jack’s house. “You’re a crazy lady.”

    A huge smile was planted on your lips as you closed the gates behind Johnny.

    “We did it,” you said, almost whispering. “We did it.”

    Engulfing you in a warm hug, Johnny patted your back and gave you a squeeze. “You did it.”

    You laughed joyously and swayed your bodies side-to-side, returning Johnny’s actions, and when you let go of him, you immediately squealed and jumped around like a two-year old.

    “We got Jack!” you shouted excitedly, twirling across the street. “We did it!”

    It probably wasn’t the best idea to run around the streets at midnight when you were exhausted from waiting because on the way to your sister’s house, you were yawning every passing second and almost fell asleep at each red light you encountered. Making it across the lawn wasn’t an easy task either with the wind forcefully pushing away from entering. It was a quarter till one in the morning when you opened the front door, greeted by your brother-in-law from the kitchen. You weakly waved at him, but were too tired to bother starting a small conversation with him. You couldn’t even hear the man ask you whatever he asked, not even your name. All you could do was stare at your moving legs, which seemed to move on a mind of their own as they moved past the shoe room, and watch your world turn black.

...

    “No, Johnny was there with me,” Doyoung heard you say while he flipped the waffle maker over the stove. “Yeah, I’m glad we didn’t cancel everything.”

    “Jesse?” he called out, leaning his head back to see you reach out for the doorknob.

    “Don’t worry!” you responded, waving to him briefly. “I’ll be back before dinner!”

    And you were gone like that. At the sound of the door shutting, a certain someone with a long pair of joggers and a white t-shirt appeared from the basement.

    “Was that Mark?” he asked in a husky voice, slipping into one of the dining chairs.

    When Doyoung revealed that it was you, the man immediately shot up from his chair and rushed to the windows. Sure enough, you were speedily walking across the street, busily talking to someone on the phone.

    Catching you while you were knocked out was the last thing Jaehyun had imagined he would be doing earlier that morning. He was so concerned that you wouldn’t return home that he stayed up all night, wandering back and forth from the living room to his room, so he almost lost it when you fell into his arms. No matter how many times he called out your name, you wouldn’t wake up. Crouched on the ground with you cradled in his arms, he watched you soundly breathe in and out with a relieved expression. Gathering his strength, he stood on his feet and lifted you up in bridal style, taking you to your room as quietly as he could. While he tucked you under the covers, he watched you go off into dreamland peacefully, which oddly made him feel at ease. As he brushed away a few stray strands of hair from your face and observed your soft but dominant facial features, a strong wave of discovery hit him like a rock. His pulse began to pick up, and he was no longer at ease. But what he did was simple: he left an unopened box of aspirin and a water bottle next to your phone, which he carefully placed on the bedside table. When you left the house without a notice, he went into your room and saw the aspirin tray peeking out of its box and the water bottle three-quarters full. A smile unknowingly rested on his face.

    Later that night, when you returned well past dinner time, you went straight to your room, passing the meal that was left for you on the dinner table and calling Jia.

    “That’s great,” you told her through the phone, plopping down onto your chair. “Tell Emma that we’re expecting her entire team there, too.”

    A small repetition of knocks shortly followed and seeing who it was at the door, you quickly hung up on Jia and swiveled your chair around.

    “What’s up?” you greeted the man of your dreams, watching him take great strides towards your bed. “I thought you were asleep.”

    “I couldn’t,” he replied simply, situating himself comfortably on top of your big covers.

    Turning around back to your computer, you attempted to force down the intense emotions that were resurfacing. With the handsome man showing up in casual joggers and a simple t-shirt, an outfit that looked damn fine on him, you had to mentally slap yourself to come back to your senses. But they kicked back in an instant when he called, “Jesse.”

    At the sound of your name melodiously leaving the lips of Jaehyun, you restrained yourself from looking at him.

    “I’m listening,” you said, searching for a lost document in the sea of mess known as your desktop.

    A short-lived second of crickets passed before he said, “Shouldn’t you be taking a break from work?”

    With your eyes busily scanning for the file, you answered monotonously, “I already did when we were watching the movie yesterday.”

    “You came back at one yesterday,” he urged in a more pressing voice. “Jaehyung was waiting for you.”

    That got you to stop what you were doing. You hated it when you let down Jaehyung, and you didn’t need to be reminded of your constant shortcomings.

    “I’ll see him first thing in the morning,” you said barely above a whisper.

    “Jesse, look at me.”

    Those four simple words were all it took for your heart to skip a beat. A small tugging of your heart began, the tug you felt during your sleepless nights. Silently sighing, you prepared yourself to set your eyes on the most beautiful man. Of all your years working and facing severely bad days, the hardest challenge in your life was to look at Jaehyun straight in the eye. Nothing competed the concerned gaze he gave you. Absolutely nothing.

    Giving yourself another mental slap, you returned his seriousness with a flat, naive look. When he took a step forward, beginning his advancement towards you, you focused your nervous, excited energy on your toes, squeezing them. With a few feet in between you two, he settled on your desk and held your gaze with so much intensity that you had to blink.

    “Don’t you think you’re working too much?”

    Your brows instantly furrowed. “What?”

    “You’re giving up your personal time and social life to work when you don’t have to.”

    Despite Jaehyun’s soft, cautious tone, you felt attacked and alert: the man you loved thought you had no social life.

    “I do have a social life,” you argued, returning your gaze back to the screen to break the horrific feeling sinking into your stomach. “You just don’t know it.”

    “Jesse.”

    The smooth, fragile fingers of the man spread warmth throughout your body when he touched your arm. The sound of your heart beating grew louder and louder, your face, in contrast, stoic as a rock. You had no idea how to react. The man’s hand was on your arm! It was even squeezing your arm for a quick second.

    “I’m saying this for your better interest.”

    You couldn’t register anything he was saying; your attention was taken away by his hand. It was as smooth as silk compared to your rough, unmoisturized hands. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long when an idea occurred to you. You strategically leaned into your chair, naturally (and regrettably) pulling your arm away from the man’s touch.

    You cleared your throat and gathered the courage to face him eye-to-eye. “So I work overtime sometimes. What’s wrong with that?”

    “When was the last time you enjoyed a full day off?” When a grilling number of silent seconds ensued, he continued, “You always couldn’t make it to our dinner invitations and left Jaehyung bummed out.”

    The butterflies began to subside when a new, more vivid feeling arose.

    “I’m sorry, but the truth is that I work for something that needs my constant attention,” you said, your eyes darkening.

    His eyes dug deep into you, insisting you to think again. At that point, you were slowly getting frustrated. How could you bear the atrocity of him belonging to someone else while caring for you like that? You hated how you felt.

    “Why do you care?” you shot, not meaning for it to come out as harsh as it did. “I get that I’m Janet’s sister and Jaehyung’s aunt, but I don’t need you to feel obligated to care just because of my connection with them.”

    It was Jaehyun’s turn for his eyebrows to knit together. “As a friend, I think that it’s not good for you to always be overworked.”

    You snapped. “Don’t give me that crap, Jaehyun!”

    You felt a part of yourself fall at the crestfallen expression that formed on Jaehyun’s face, but you were still pissed at how he made you feel stupid and giddy inside even though he wasn’t yours.

    “Since when were we friends?” you striked. “We only know each other because of Janet!”

    With an incredulous expression, Jaehyun exclaimed, “So all this time you initiated a conversation or smiled at me was not because we were friends but because you felt obligated to?” He stood up from the desk in fury and stepped forward. “I couldn’t sleep because I cared about you and was worried that you wouldn’t come back! You know why? Because you never come back! Not even on the holidays!”

    You pushed onward and pointed your finger at his chest. “You’re the one who feels obligated to treat me the way you do! You’re the one who feels the need to look out for me just because I’m Janet’s younger sister! Did I ask you to set me up with Jungwoo? No! Did I ask you to stay up for me? No! So stop making me feel so damn bad when I already feel like I’m at rock bottom for treating Jaehyung the way I have!”

    You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice the lack of proximity between you two. Your mind was running with furious thoughts, not giving you a chance to cool down. But the sudden change in Jaehyun’s expression broke the angry momentum: his face had fallen back to a broken manner. You watched his eyes stare into yours, waiting for something you didn’t know what you were waiting for. It was a matter of moments when his mouth slightly parted and spilled something you wish you could unhear.

    “The only reason why I look out for you is because I have feelings for you.”

    There went the sound of your heart pounding harder than ever with the rush of adrenaline spreading throughout your body. A chilling breeze ran down your spine as you watched Jaehyun wait for your reaction with pained eyes, causing you to step backwards, away from the taken man.

    “No, no you don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Take that back. You don’t mean that. You don’t.”

    Your breathing rapidly fastened. Your palms became sweaty. The room felt suffocating. Jaehyun remained where he was--until you took in his honest self for one last time and left him for the bathroom, where you sat in the corner and let the tears you hadn’t let out for years trickle down your exhausted face. By the time you returned to your room, he was gone.

    The next morning, you vanished from the house, leaving Jaehyung the presents you intended on giving him when your sister arrived next to his bed. You remembered the day you went shopping with Jaehyung and Jaehyun, secretly looking for their presents. You remembered how happy Jaehyung was to be running in the big mall. Most of all, you remembered Jaehyun’s sweet voice and his fatherly smile. You threw his present in the trash can.

    There was no trace of you left in the house of torture except for the food you left uneaten. When you closed the front door behind you, you cut off the string to the red thread that you had hung on for so long. But what you didn’t know was that the man in joggers and white t-shirt had grabbed on, holding on for dear life. You started the engines to your car and drove off in the dark streets. You were still fumbling to hold the red thread, trying to grab onto the falling pieces.

[larawinter]

you might know her as Mason Hawthorne’s mother, or the ‘teen mom’ of the Winter brood who’d once been in love with that Quinn Hawthorne. she’s the girl that after 10 years stopped trying to make a future together work. but rather than letting her be known by who she’s associated with, here’s a look into Lara herself:

with a slight revamp due to faceclaim and biography change, i felt it best to repost this with the appropriate edits. SO without further ado, here’s mama winter: my dreamer, my litany of light Miss Lara Christina Winter.

*changes to her biography are bolded

General Information

Full Name: Yua “Lara” Christina Winter

Nickname(s): Lar, LC

Gamertag/Twitch: IseeLara (a play on the word ‘icy’ in reference to her surname… and with how great she is with an SMG)

Age: 33

Date of Birth: April 13, 1987

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Tarot card: Temperance

Place of Birth: Crescent Harbor, WA

Current Residence: Crescent Harbor, WA

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Japanese

Gender: female

Sexual Orientation: bisexual

Religion: n/a

Occupation: social media manager for an esports organisation, Seattle Triumph

Faceclaim: Satomi Ishihara

Personality

Positive Traits: creative, self-sufficient, dedicated, imaginative, team-player

Negative Traits: protective, escapist, repressed, self-critical

Hobbies: jewelry-making, video games

Likes: espresso shots, hoodies, sleepy sunday mornings, movie nights, roses, hiking, horror films, video games, traveling

Dislikes: Mason driving, being without her phone, spiders, being underestimated or misunderstood, almond milk, sitting in the passenger seat, losing pens

Enneagram: Type 6

Temperament: Melancholic

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good

About:

// triggers: teenage pregnancy, pregnancy, overdose, addiction, death

— ‘There is no such thing as perfection, but what matters is that you try.’ is the unofficial Winter family motto.

— Tetsuko “Tess” Matsui had married her best friend Michael Winter in a seemingly whirlwind romance back in the fall of ‘87. It’s a bit of a secret between them both, however, that Tess had been seeing someone while living in Seattle, but before she could tell him that she was pregnant, they’d been robbed and killed on the way home from work. 

— Tess had subsequently birthed Lara out of wedlock, and it was sometime during that first year of her life, Tess and Michael had gotten together and married. Everyone assumes that Mike is her biological father.

— Although her birth name is ‘Yua’ the nickname ‘Lara’ was quickly adopted by the family. It wasn’t until she’d begun school that Lara realised that ‘Lara’ wasn’t her birth name.

— Grew up surrounded by siblings as her parents frequently fostered children as well as adopted and had their own (with Lara being the eldest of their children until Brandon joined their household). Despite how large the family is, they are a close knit bunch. 

— She had dreams of traveling the world and having a lifetime of adventures, and you could often find her hiking or wanting to go to the beach, even making up her own worlds as she played in the backyard as a child. The dreams of traveling and adventure came to a grinding halt, however, when she fell pregnant with Quinn’s child at sixteen and became a mother by seventeen.

— Was able to finish high school on time and finished her bachelor of science in marketing in six years. Definitely has not finished paying back her student loans.

— Her life the past sixteen years has revolved around the well-being of her son, especially with Quinn in and out of rehab as he struggled with his addictions.

— As much as Quinn’s vices have affected her life and Mason’s, Lara’s always been open to and cooperative with having him present in their son’s life. However, she maintains a distant/lukewarm relationship with the father of her child.

— She considers herself the reason why she and Quinn are no longer together, because she didn’t have it in her to continue ‘trying’ after having found him when he overdosed at the age of 26. The fact that she had shown up to drop off Mason largely contributed to the decision to end things for good, breaking the cycle that she’d viewed as toxic for herself and their young son.

— She and Mason lived with her parents until she was 27, having saved enough money from her various positions in sales and administrative work to buy a decently sized (and safe) home with a backyard.

— It was at the age of 28 that she had taken a risk to apply for a position for a video game developer as they had an opening for a game design script assistant. To say that Lara fell in love with the industry would be an understatement: games and fantasy lands were one of Lara’s only ways to travel, and discovering a new work environment was, to her, like finding a new favourite candy.

— Hired as a social media manager for an eSports organisation based in Seattle at the age of 30. This job allows her to both go into the office and/or work remotely depending on the day.

— Her job is what she thinks to be the best thing that’s happened to herself and Mason, and she’s incredibly proud of where she’s been working the past few years. It’s afforded them the ability to travel and move into a nicer/recently renovated home. Mason especially loves that he gets to go to the events with her (even abroad) and play video games more often.

— As of January 2021, due to the events that had taken place a month prior, Lara has put her foot down on reverting to pre-approved supervised visitation of their son. No word yet on when this will change.

Misc. headcanons

— Constantly glued to her phone and/or laptop because of her job, and commutes to Seattle and back most days of the week.

— Unresolved trauma is the root of her issues, so much so that she’s somewhat lost her sense of ‘self’ as her focus shifted from herself to doing everything/anything for Mason at a young age.

— She essentially has a streamer/content-creator’s set up at home consisting of a powerful PC + 3 monitors. On any given night you can find her playing Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War or Escape from Tarkov, and maybe streaming as she monitors Twitch streams/Discords of those signed to her eSports org for clips to post on the social accounts. She’s planning on giving Mason a dual monitor setup for Christmas as most gaming now happens on PC (but he did get the PS5 as a late birthday present).

— Athleisure and hoodies/sweatshirts only. She’s been mistaken as Mason’s cousin/sister because of the informal way she dresses on top of her youthful appearance, which is mainly due to the casual setting of her workplace (being gifted merchandise with every merch drop) and one of her sisters being an aesthetician who reminds her to keep up with her skincare.

— Roses are her favourite flowers.

— Although she doesn’t particularly like to drink or even use over-the-counter medications, every so often she does enjoy a glass of sweet wine or mead.

— Keeps/updates a photo collage in her bedroom of all the places she and Mason have travelled to as well as photo albums.

— Only recently has she picked up the hobby of metalworking, more specifically jewelry-making. There aren’t too many days off with her position, but every now and again she’ll find time to tinker around with some gold or silver to make some jewelry for herself.

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 66: Baggage

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 33. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Body horror, joint trauma, nudity, disability-related deprecation/catastrophization. How we carry ourselves.

________________

The last of the suds fizzled, leaving ‘Choly submerged in cold opalescent bathwater. A similar surfactant quality popped his daze, and he shifted in an attempt to sit up in the tub. The fluid’s inertia instead sloshed him further back against the enameled iron. He grunted with a squint as some water got up his nose. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the real trouble hindering his exit. His joints had fallen as slack as his lucidity. He felt like a marionette without a yoke. His stomach shuddered for him, as the slow continued sway of the water, once more settling, tugged at his arms half afloat.

So it was possible, after all, to relax too much.

He lay there for some time longer, barely able to string together the thought to devise some plan. His state left him reeling beyond the rationality that he might call out for help. Angel would worry itself apart to see him like this, and Sticks might very well toss him out in the Merrimack, beyond salvage. Besides, they hadn’t come to his rescue when he fell hours earlier, and he managed to get himself to the dinner table and back up here with nearly a nonzero amount of assistance. He could do this himself. He needed to learn how to do it himself--for his own safety, in the event something estranged others from coming to his aid.

He prayed this whatever-was-happening wouldn’t endure. But at least, he could in the moment assess his limitations.

His musculature and tendons remained connected and functioning, but necessitated an entirely other manner of physiological prescience: to not simply manage his own proprioception, but to apply it forward like some telekinetic mess of connective tissue cat’s cradle. It took every scrape of mental faculty to process and focus to where he could grasp himself by the wrists, by the elbows, by the shoulders, and so on, to grip each errant joint in turn, and to administer the force and torsion necessary to right the dysfunction. The bangs and bruises from the citywide chaos of the day before only served to compound how his throbbing body resisted total exhaustion.

He pushed himself up by both hands off the side of the tub, to stand. Instead, he spilled over the side and across the concrete flooring of the balcony. Flat on his back and defeated, he flopped back with a wheeze and stared up into the joints of the patio cover. The string lights burned a reverse image in his eyelids when he shut them.

He could hear rummaging inside through the open door yards away. His Stygian eyes fluttered open. The sight of twin mounted radstag heads hanging over the balcony door choked him.

“--Angel?”

The appellation came out far weaker and more broken than he expected.

When Angel didn’t respond, he bristled, and once more underwent the slow, quiet, deliberate process of summoning himself together. He found the Mister Handy had set out on the workhorse nearest to the tub for him a towel, his robe, and his glasses. He managed the loosest sense of drying off, and draped the towel around his neck and shoulders; then, he put on his glasses, and tied off the robe. Unsure exactly whom had come upstairs, let alone what--or whom--they sought, he grabbed an awl from the workbench and edged nearer the door frame on bated breath.

In the dark of the upstairs room, he could only make out the edges of lime split lighting in contrast to the figure’s lit Pip-Boy screen. He shivered at a prickle of draft. The white uniform with black apron. Symmetrical, if not keloid-riddled, features. Sticks rifled through the secretary as though it didn’t belong to him. Unsure how to even begin to ask what the ghoul could’ve needed, 'Choly meekly closed the door behind himself.

“Need more light?”

Sticks jerked up to look at him.

“...Of course, of course.” He loosed a rumbling, agitated chuckle. “It’s all right, pal, that you, ah. Sealed that negotiation for me like that. It’s all right, because... because we’re partners. Isn’t that right? Partners.”

The ghoul rose to flip the switch for the three overhead lamps strung across the roof beams. Right off, ‘Choly noticed the ghoul’s black eye, and a ripped dishevelment marred with bits of fresh blood. ‘Choly chewed at his lower lip.

“Partners... Yeah.” He swallowed, and rubbed at his forearm with his free hand. He’d only been trying to help. “Are you okay? Could we-- talk? We need to talk. If-- if that’s all right.”

The juxtaposition of the encounter startled Sticks to a cautious desperation.

“Everything’s all right between us, right?”

“Of course. It’s not that. ...I need to sit.” He walked over to the secretary and took the desk chair for himself. Sticks sat on the corner of the bed. “I know I fucked up a lot yesterday, but I think I may have fucked up something else.”

He set the awl down on the desk, and swiveled to face Sticks. Picking what he felt he could afford to potentially damage further, he took hold of his left calf and knee, and purposefully loosed it again with a hollow chain of cartilaginous pops. His breath stuttered as he dangled his leg by the foot, but he kept his cool as he gave the ghoul a sardonic glance.

Sticks looked to him agape, with unfiltered, nauseated fascination.

“The cryogenic chemicals damaged my joints and skin, but I’ve managed for months until today. This is... something completely else.” He worked at resetting his knee as he continued, stifling jolts of revulsion. “I mean, even if it is the condition progressing, why all at once? And why-- this? It would be too much of a coincidence if the X-Cell Squared weren’t related... or the inhaler. That fucking inhaler.” He seethed, cupping his face in hand. “I was so tired when she handed me that stuff last night and told me it was Addictol. Fuck me, I’m stupid--”

“--You’re not stupid. She just knows how to trick people. ...Do you really suppose she gave you something that wasn’t Addictol?”

“I checked my Pip-Boy’s health diagnostics earlier. I’m still in withdrawals from chems I took prior to her giving me the inhaler. I could show you, if I-- if I knew where it was.”

“Hey now. I’m sure it’s safe. It’s just you, me, and the robot now.”

‘Choly toweled at his hair again, only to swivel around and look in the secretary for himself. He produced the Walden Drugs catalogue from one slot, and thumbed through it in search of specific pages.

“My current set of orthotics aren’t doing it. The officer’s gloves help, but that’s just my hands. The ankle and wrist braces, the postural corset--they’re just for sprains and such, not full dislocations. Neither you nor Angel seemed to notice earlier, but I fell down the stairs. I’m struggling to put one foot in front of the other. I’m a liability as I am. You called me wet cardboard the other day, and it just keeps feeling more true.“ He slapped the catalogue down in his lap, and shut his eyes to rub at them under his glasses with thumb and forefinger. “Look, I’m bad at asking for help. So: This is me asking for help. I know you don’t have to help me and that it’s probably prudent to ditch me... but I hope having me in your life means more to you than that.”

He held out the booklet turned to the relevant page. Sticks leaned to take it, and looked it over, uncurling the front half to inspect the cover, then back to the items. He face slacked in earnest as he flipped over to a locations listing.

“The closest one was Nashua, you said? Lexington didn’t have them?”

“I lived in the Lexington Walden’s stock room for months before it went up in flames. What I’ve got is the best I could find. Only the warehouses that stocked hospitals would have what’s on that page. They’re surgical grade. ...The Merrimack swallowed up the Lowell General Hospital, didn’t it?“ He slumped, unable to recall the building in the skyline as they’d passed through Downtown Historic. “You have no idea how badly I want to stay put. I love it here, with the bathtub, with the bed, with the you... But...” The idea of it eroded him to trembling. “I know it’s a long way. Especially on foot. But I can’t do it with just Angel. Especially since it’s out of ammo.”

“No, no. If you need this, then we need this. We needed a good reason to blow this place for a while. The Unfolded may seem to want to continue respecting the history this place has, Glenn Johnny’s included... But Lowell as a whole? They weren’t out here on exterminator duty, Mindy. They were doing recon on the locks and channels equipment. For the General.”

That nearly knocked ‘Choly out of the chair. When it clicked, he paled numb.

“The fuck do they want to-- Oh. Oh no.”

“Yeah. I’m not happy about it, either. Bare minimum, it’s gonna be like when a company puts a new building in. Except you and I both know that wont just be, what was it? Skunks? But worst case scenario? I don’t even want to begin to speculate what they plan to do with the river.” Weary, Sticks circled back to the catalogue. “Have you got a time estimate for this little recon? How long you think it’ll take to get there, and how long you intend to stick around?”

“I’m not sure. Does it matter much? We’re in agreement that a change of scenery’s desirable.”

Sticks traced at the details on the page, distant and in deep thought.

“It’s not just a change of scenery, is the thing. It’s a change of climate. I don’t know if you realize this, but Lowell’s on the southern threshold of the Hinter... and we’re coming up on Nor’easter season. Sure, the wildlife has got all big and wild, but so’s the weather. I’ll be mostly all right up there, being a ghoul, provided our shelter’s sound. But you? And the Handy?” The ghoul waved off his own train of thought. “You know what. Don’t sweat it. We’ll manage this. My experience, your grey matter.”

“Nor’easters? You’re worried over a chance there’s one this year? I’ve weathered dozens of ice storms in my life. Even a few hurricanes. And you’re a native Yankee, so you’ve got to have, too. We’ll be fine.” Denial wheezed from his nostrils, his lips pressed together tight. “I know it will put us even further from New Hampshire, but I do have one obligation first. I have to go to Billerica, to escort someone to the Concord suburbs. I should’ve taken them to safety before getting here, but I also didn’t know what I was getting myself into. They’ve been waiting for the Lowell conflict to blow over, and like me, they’re the last survivor of their location. I would have had to go check on them soon even if we stayed here.”

The ghoul squinted at him.

“Hazarding you’re confident they couldn’t just travel there themselves.”

“It shouldn’t take long at all!” ‘Choly threw his hands up. “One day, tops. We just need to get from here to there to Sanctuary Hills. It’s a Mister Handy. I couldn’t have brought it to Lowell and just left it. And it just feels too many kinds of wrong to just leave it all alone there, when it could be among some normal people again for once.”

Sticks weighed the various aspects about the proposition that didn’t sit well.

“If you’re having trouble just walking, do you suppose you’ll be in any condition to ride Angel down?”

“I, I don’t know.” 'Choly wilted into begging that left his companion too tongue-tied to object all the while. “We’ll figure that out, too! And you know what? This trip to Nashua isn’t just for me. Partners. I meant it, that we’re in this together. The long haul. The Lexington Walden was a smaller location, and even it had a sizable chem lab arrangement, with a large cache of stock. The Nashua Walden was classified as a full regional warehouse: it shipped to a dozen locations in the New England Commonwealth. Olivia gave me all those military chem formulas. That is what you were looking for just now, weren’t you? I’m as interested as you, to see what all I can make from a chem cookbook culminated from two hundred years of research.”

Sticks sat up at once and looked to him knowingly. He swatted his knee with the catalogue.

“Now that, I like to hear! What initiative! We’ll start out for all this tomorrow. You hear me? Let’s get to gathering things up tonight. We can do a once-over in the morning to make sure we’re not leaving anything important behind.”

“You’re not exhausted after all that stuff downstairs? After cooking for thirty?”

‘Choly felt even more pathetic than he sounded. He hadn’t even lifted a finger with a thing, yet was this worn out.

“We’ll go until we pass out, at least. We’ll sleep better that way. Hey Angel!” Sticks called out for the robot. “Set down that broom and dustpan for a bit and help us out up here!” He chortled excitedly. “Ohh, bless it all. You want to cook chems for me. And you want to wear this for me. I could kiss you.”

Something between a grimace and a grin tore ‘Choly’s face.

“You... you could kiss me, you know.”

“You’re not wrong.” Sticks swept him up in both arms and plopped him back on the freshly made bed, only narrowly taking the care to be delicate with him. He leaned down over the top of him, a hand to each side of ‘Choly’s shoulders, to smooch him. “We’re great together. You know that, right?”

‘Choly squinted awkwardly, and reached to turn off the screen light on Sticks’s Pip-Boy. He pulled him into another kiss, and looked him in the eye with adoration.

“Always have been.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve no intention of leaving this place without first cleaning up after such horrid house guests.” Angel scoffed in frustration as it appeared upstairs, oblivious to the pair making out on the bed. “And I hate to be the bearer of such information, but if I’m to carry Mister Carey, we must pack as light as possible. It’s not to guilt you, Sir, but even with the refinements you’ve made to my hydraulics, the added weight does result in a higher fuel expenditure. My ammunition isn’t the only thing running low after this week.”

“So we’ll make more frequent refueling pit stops for you, buddy,” Sticks mumbled over his shoulder, still pecking all over ‘Choly’s face and neck and shoulders where he could get at it. The little creep soaked it all up, squirming like it tickled. “You just worry about carrying Carey here. Anything heavy I need to bring, I’ll carry myself.”

‘Choly grabbed his face to get his attention.

“Hey. Maybe Angel could carry all the supplies, and you carry me? I’ve got to weigh less than that Flamer did, and you hefted that thing all over town without hardly ever setting it down.”

The ghoul melted into dopey chuff.

“Mindy. Babe. You do not weigh less than a Flamer.” He smiled, heavy lidded. “You’re on something, though. Sounds like it might work. I can guarantee you, that everything I’m bringing totally weighs less than you. So if I carry you, and Angel carries everything I’m bringing, that’s less strain on its flame.”

“Can I entrust you with my most precious cargo, Mister Hawthorne?”

He planted one more forceful smooch on ‘Choly before meeting gazes in a dreamy determination.

“He’s my prize, too, ya know.”

Go to Next »»»

[skyleaf1]

Exactly How To Get Ready For Divorce & Separation Arbitration.

Woollcombeyonge The Good Separation.

Content

# 7 Is Mediation Compulsory In The Uk?

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# 7 Is Mediation Compulsory In The Uk?

The information on this website is to be taken into consideration a guide as well as is therefore not legal guidance. You use this info with the understanding that Wiselaw does decline liability for any kind of direct or indirect losses as a result of any individual relying upon or acting on the information on this website.

A skilled moderator aids you lower conflict and also improve co-operation. The moderator encourages you to interact respectfully as well as agree the very best solutions for all the family. This brought about an interest in Psychology therefore experienced as a Psychodynamic Pair Counsellor with South Essex Relate. During his training, Dai felt his relationship with his partner and boy was enhanced.As a dedicated Vegetarian for over 30 years, Dai changed course and developed the first totally Vegetarian and also Vegan dining establishment in Essex.

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He owned and also ran business for over 6 years as well as is exceptionally happy with this achievement. Continuing with his need to boost the lives of others and enhance his own ability base, Dai decided to train as a Family members Mediator in 2011. Karrina has been working in the voluntary field for over 15 years delivering recommendations and assistance in Welfare Conveniences and Financial Obligation. With her range of abilities that she obtained working with a varied range of clients, she has actually lately qualified as Legal Help Agency certified Family Moderator in 2015. Karrina is likewise an in-court conciliator in Luton, functioning extremely closely with CAFCASS and lay magistrates.

Our Family And Child Law Lawyers Can Aid You.

If your situation is not appropriate for arbitration you will still require to show the judge you have actually considered it by filling in the pertinent court form. As soon as you've found a moderator, the following action is to go to an initial meeting with them to find out if it's best for you. In some cases this is called an Arbitration Details & Assessment Fulfilling. All Bureau conciliators are approved by the Family members Mediation Council and function within its Arbitration Code of Technique.

What should I do before mediation?

Guidance: Preparing Yourself for Mediation 1. Ensure that both party and representative are present, fully informed and have authority to resolve the dispute. 2. Expect the unexpected. 3. Listen, listen, listen!! 4. Watch those tactics. 5. Be prepared for mediation. 6. Be imaginative. 7. Watch yourself. More items

Their response will certainly be noted as well as if the situation advances to court after that the ex-partner's rejection to go to mediation will certainly likewise be kept in mind by the court in charge when a choice is made. It is not appropriate for sure severe situations of conflict where misuse, violence or bankruptcy exists. If these instances can be verified then mediation is not essential to finish a legal partnership such as marital relationship or civil collaboration. Family members mediation is perfectly suitable for all situations where a disagreement exists and a remedy can be caused if both celebrations agree to discuss and compromise in the direction of a remedy. If you attempt to solve your differences with mediation, apart from being a whole lot less costly than going to court it likewise allows the couple continue to be much more in control of their conditions. Arbitrators are also trained and also experienced in assisting their clients look at things more fairly than they might have done on their own.

The Household Justice Council has actually issued brand-new assistance for dividing pairs desiring to get to contract regarding their financial setups. They will certainly ask you to offer details of your monetary scenario; this can help you to assume even more plainly about the future. My 3 pointers are to concentrate on the future, placed kids initially and pay attention to the other person's point of view. I have three ideas-- constantly approach arbitration with an open and also checking mind; consider separate, restorative support to aid with the emotions you will certainly experience and also be honest with yourself and the mediator. When you are battling to reach a contract in arbitration, don't consider every subject of conversation as a factor you definitely should win so as to get a great end result. The very best outcomes and ones that are verified to last much longer, are ones where you both feel you have actually come away with something.

Elizabeth ‘Willow’ Reed - Oak Ridger

Elizabeth ‘Willow’ Reed.

Posted: Thu, 07 Jan 2021 04:15:42 GMT [source]

MISCONCEPTION-- You can dedicate adultery anytime up until the mandate outright is revealed. Whether this is the most effective ground for your situations is a various matter. You would not generally obtain economically from utilizing adultery as a ground for divorce.

For Civil Commercial and also Office conflict resolution our Conciliator will certainly call all parties entailed to obtain an understanding of the situation and talk about how to continue. First published in 2019, the '101 Concerns' has actually become the indispensable overview to dividing with kids. Now in its second edition, leading professionals give insights and suggestions as well as parents and also children reflect on their experiences. With Covid updates as well as much more this book will certainly supply advice and support to any separating moms and dad. The Handover Book by Ashley Palmer is an one-of-a-kind and easy interaction book for apart family members. It will allow them both to always know what is happening in their youngsters's hectic lives as they go from one home to one more . It's a way of interacting the crucial things they both need to learn about their youngsters, while keeping your connection as parents pleasant and also calm.

The 2nd document is a 'without prejudice' paper called a Memorandum of Understanding. The Memorandum of Understanding lay out a narrative summary of the propositions made by the parties to every various other and the outcome that has been reached. It will possibly supply some explanation to the lawyer taking a look at this offer after that about why the celebrations came to the result that they did.

Select an experienced Family Mediation Council Accredited arbitrator. Being recognized ways that they will have accomplished a minimum of the minimal degree of competence to practise. Having experience simply implies that they will certainly have undertaken lots of arbitrations. MYTH-- You can use our disclosure kinds, which are much easier to complete for mediation and also separation negotiation. MISCONCEPTION-- You need to disclose all your funds or any kind of agreement reached can be 'set aside' and also you might need to start the whole procedure once more.

Garden Court Mediation remains to provide a fixed cost system for mediations below ₤ 50,000.

Sporting activity Resolutions offers a shortlist of seasoned sport specialist moderators for the parties to choose from.

This can as well as usually does result in the Moderator shuttling between the parties for time prior to there is any additional plenary meeting.

Nonetheless, it is always open up to the celebrations to elevate any issues they wish to re-address as well as to re-convene in plenary meeting for that or any kind of other function.

If uk family mediation service divorce mediation cumbria app can not concur or would certainly favor Sporting activity Resolutions to designate the moderator, after that we have the ability to do so.

The following phase is normally separate personal meetings with each of the events or groups of celebrations.

Above all, the customer needs to feel confident in the team's capability to respond to any brand-new arguments that are raised and to recommend him or her on any type of proposals for settlement that might be made.

This uses just as to remote or on the internet mediation through Zoom or Skype.

In summary, the requirements relating to mediation and whether it matters and/or needed in your case are rather made complex. It is important to be cautious since court team have actually now been directed to decline applications where proof of presence at a MIAM and/or an exception do not go along with the court application. Monday 14th July 2014I saw an inquiry on an online forum recently which asked whether separation arbitration was compulsory.

Whilst we endeavour to provide accurate info, Wiselaw does not accept liability for any kind of errors or noninclusions on this site. You may qualify for legal help for mediation if you receive Income-Based Jobseekers Allocation, Earnings Support, Revenue Based Employment and also Assistance Allocation or assured debt as well as have less than ₤ 8,000 in funding or properties. As has currently been pointed out shuttle mediation can be promoted in order to maintain both parties in different areas. Otherwise, if your case includes physical violence or abuse there are organisations such as Female's Help, Males's Suggestions Line, Refuge or Resident's Guidance that can aid celebrations better in these severe scenarios. This will normally sustain even more time and effort and will, for that reason, be much more pricey. If economic problems need to be sorted out then you will certainly require to submit a financial disclosure kind when you attend your MIAM session, so be prepared to create bank statements and evidence of savings and also assets. The much better ready you are the quicker you can get to the issues that need dealing with.

[my-emotional-self]

Dodger’s Vet

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, sick Dodger, Fluff

Summary: Chris meets the new Veterinary in town when Dodger becomes sick.  

A/N: I imagine this happening right after he gets back home from filming The Deep Sea Diving Resort so he has his longer hair and beard!  Oh, and I this idea just popped into my head. Should I continue and do a couple more parts?

You walked into the clinic early Tuesday morning, turning on all the lights.  Smiling, you looked around at your facility, delighted at what you saw.  It had been a long time coming, but you finally graduated from school and you were officially a Veterinarian.  Not only that, but with all the hard work you put yourself through, you managed to open your own clinic in a small town just outside of Boston.  

Boston is where you were from, but you wanted to move just outside of the large city and into a smaller community.  Your grandparents, bless their souls, gave you your inheritance early because they saw how determined you were and they didn’t want you to drown in bills.  

Luckily they were very wealthy, putting into the right stocks; that’s what you get when your grandpa worked on Wall Street his whole life.  Because of your early inheritance, you were able to pay off your loans from school, buy yourself a quaint little house, and also open up your own Veterinarian Clinic.  To say life was great would be an understatement.  

It had been a little over six months since you had moved to Sudbury, and just about three months since you had opened up your clinic.  You were nervous to say the least, unsure if your clinic would be a hit or miss in this small town.  But you did your research and saw that the closest Vet Clinic around was nearly 15 miles away.  

One of the things you prided yourself on is that three days a week, you were on call after hours for emergencies just in case.  

Because your clinic had been a big success so far, you were able to hire on two other Veterinarians, one a specialty in exotic animals also, and six Veterinarian Assistance.  To make things even better, your clinic was only a mile down the road, making it easier to head home during lunch breaks and feed your own brood of animals.  

Currently you had three dogs and two cats; all of them rescued or saved.  Two of your dogs you saved because people came in for emergencies and couldn’t afford the services.  They ended up leaving the clinic, and the dogs and you gladly worked on them and took them home.  They were both Corgis, both brothers and they had gotten into some poison at the house. Luckily you were able to save them, but it was very touch and go.  Your other dog was a Great Dane named Petunia; you found it funny how you named her such a delicate name for a big dog but she was your baby.  Your cats were also brothers and you named them Tom and Jerry as they were both rambunctious little buggers.  

Heading into your office, you looked over your list of patients for the day and smiled when you saw Dodger was coming in for a check-up and his shots.  He was such a good boy and his fur was so soft; he was by far one of your favorite patients to date.  

~~~

The day went by fairly quickly and before you knew it, there was a knock on your door.  One of the assistance poked her head through, letting you know that Dodger was in exam room three and ready for you.  

With a smile, you got up from your chair in your office and made your way down the hall.  When you got to the exam room, you gave a quick knock to let them know you were there.  

Upon opening the room, Dodger got up from his spot on the floor, tail wagging excitedly as he raced over to meet you.  

“Hi there Dodger! Yes, it’s so good to see you too,” you cooed as you knelt down, letting the happy dog give you kisses.  “Hello Lisa.  It’s good to see you too.”

Lisa chuckled at the dog attacking you with kisses.  “It’s good to see you too Dr. Y/L/N.”

“Oh please, call me Y/N. Dodger and  I are on a first name basis now so I’m hoping we can do that too,” you said with a smile, looking at the woman sitting in the chair.  She gave you a nod and a smile back.  “Alright, so just a check-up and a few shots today for Dodger is that right?”

“Yeah.  He’s got his last round of shots I believe and then he will be all caught up.”

Walking over to the wall, you pushed a button and the large metal table descended to the ground. With the help of Lisa, you got Dodger onto the table and you held him down as it moved back up into place.  

You checked his ears and his breathing, along with a few other normal procedures before grabbing the shots off the counter.  

His tail started wagging when he saw you grabbing the treats from the jar.  You handed them to Lisa as she kept him busy while you administered the shots.  He was always such a good boy, holding still for you.  

“And we are all done. You did good Dodger,” you beamed giving him a scratch behind the ear as his tongue rolled out from his mouth.  

“Thank you so much Y/N. I’m so happy you decided to move here and open a clinic.  Dodger is so relaxed around you and you are nice and close to home,” Lisa gushed with a smile, taking your hand in hers.  

“It’s my pleasure, really.”

“My son should be home in the next few weeks so if Dodger needs to come back for any reason, I’m sure it will be him bringing him here and not me.”

“Well I’ll be sad to miss you but please feel free to stop by and say hi anytime you want.”

~~~

“Just take him into the vet,” Lisa said, speaking to her son over the phone.  

“I honestly don’t know if it’s that serious Ma,” Chris said as he watched Dodger have diarrhea yet again in the backyard of his home.  “On second thought, he’s doing it again.

“Honey, I’m telling you, this new vet in town is amazing.  Dodger loves her.”

Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “It’s after hours.  I’d have to wait until tomorrow to even see if I can get an appointment in.”

“Well, what day is it?” Lisa asked.

“Umm,” Chris began to say, not even aware of what day it was as always lost track of time when he came home from filming.  “Thursday. Why?”

“Oh good.  If you are worried about Dodger at any point tonight, know that Dr. Y/L/N is on call for emergencies.  She lives very close by to her clinic so it won’t be a problem.”

“Ma, I don’t want to wake him up,”

“Her,” Lisa cut him off. The vet that sees Dodger is female.”

“Ok then.  I don’t want to wake HER up in the middle of the night if it’s not serious.”

“Well, that’s fine sweetie. But keep an eye on Dodger.  If he suddenly begins to vomit as well, then you really need to take him in.”

Later that night as Chris was getting ready for bed, close to midnight, he heard a weird sound coming from the living room.  Rushing out of his room, he saw Dodger throwing up on the ground.  

“Fuck buddy, what is wrong with you huh?  Did you get into something?”  Chris began to panic, knowing he couldn’t lose Dodger.  

Grabbing his phone, he dialed the number his mom had given him.  On the fourth ring, a groggy sounding voice answered the phone.  

~~~

Groaning at the ringing of your phone, you rolled over in bed and answered it.  “Dr. Y/L/N.”

“Umm, yeah.  Hi.  My name is Chris and I’m the owner of Dodger,” the man on the phone said frantically. Immediately you perked up at Dodger’s name.

“Hello Chris.  Is Dodger alright?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.  That was the one thing about being a Vet; you got attached to your patients so easily and with Dodger involved, you were beginning to worry.  

“Not really.  Two days ago he began to have diarrhea, so I withheld all food and treats for 24 hours and when I fed him again this morning, well, the diarrhea came back and now he’s throwing up.”  

“Ok Chris.  If you are willing to, I can be at my clinic in five minutes.”

“Yeah,” Chris breathed out, “Yeah I’ll meet you there.  Thank you so much Dr. Y/L/N.”

“It’s not a problem at all Chris.  It’s what I’m here for.”

Five minutes later you pulled up at the front of your clinic and raced to the front door to unlock it. The parking lot was deserted so Chris and Dodger had not shown up yet.  

Walking into your office, you put down your coat and purse before heading out into the main lobby to wait for them.  

It only took a minute before you saw a car pull into the parking lot.  Opening the front door, you saw a man with dark hair that hung just above his ears, and a thick yet trimmed beard, opening the back of his car door.

He picked up Dodger and carried him into the clinic as you held the door open for him.  Your heart dropped at seeing Dodger so lethargic, making you worry even more.  You quickly locked the door behind him.  

“Let’s take him to exam room one,” you said as you began to walk down the hallway.  

Chris placed Dodger on the metal table as you got to work quickly examining him.  You checked his breathing, along with to see if he had a fever. Lifting his top tip, you pressed against his pale gums.  

“Ok, so far I can tell he has a fever and he is severely dehydrated, which is common in dogs who have diarrhea and are vomiting.  I’d like to give him some water via an IV if you are alright with that?” you asked looking at Chris and waiting for his answer.  

He nodded hastily. “Yes.  Yeah I’ll agree to anything as long as he gets better.”  Your heart sunk at his words and you knew right away he was a great doggie dad; wanting to do anything for his boy.  

You got an IV into Dodger as he lay on the table; no energy whatsoever.  Once the water began to flow into his system, you grabbed a syringe and took a vial of blood.  

“I’m going to go back into the lab and check his blood to see if I can find the underlying issue to what’s wrong with him.”

Chris nodded his head as he sat on the chair next to Dodger and petting him.  

It didn’t take more than a few minutes before you came back into the room, removing your gloves from your hands.  “When was the last time Dodger had a bowel movement?”

“Ummm,” Chris began to say, checking his watch, “about twenty minutes ago.  As I was getting my shoes on he went in the house again and I didn’t have time to clean it up.  I just wanted to get him here.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Well I think you did the right thing in bringing him here.  I can tell his breathing is already becoming more steady from the water IV.  But I have a favor to ask you and I completely understand if you don’t want to leave him here.”

Chris’ brows furrowed. “What is it?”

“I think I might know what’s wrong with him, but the absolute 100% way to tell for sure is to get a stool sample.  Preferably one that is not much older than 30 minutes.”

“Oh….Oh,” Chris said in final realization.  

“Like I said Chris. If you don’t want to leave him here with me, I completely understand.  We can always wait until he has another bowel movement.”

Chris jumped up from his chair, checking to make sure he had his keys, wallet and cellphone. “No.  It’s really no problem at all.  I only live a few minutes away and I really just want to get to the bottom of why he’s sick.  I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

You sat down in the chair next to Dodger; not much else you could do at this point until Chris came back with the stool sample.  As you sat with Dodger, your fingers ran through his thick tan fur, smiling lightly at the dog as he looked at you with hopeful eyes.

Almost fifteen minutes later, Dodger perked his head up slightly, his eyes landed on you. “You’ll be ok buddy.  I know you will pull through.  You’re such a strong boy aren’t you?  Yes you are.”  Leaning forward, you let Dodger lick you, giving you kisses, completely unaware that Chris had heard and seen the whole thing.  

“I’ve got it,” Chris said quietly, not wanting to disturb Dodger.  

Getting up from your spot, you thanked him and headed into the lab with the stool sample.  Placing it under the microscope, you let out a sigh as your gut was right.  

Heading back into the room, you felt warmth envelope your body at the sight of Chris and Dodger. You were a good judge of character when it came to owners of pets and you knew Chris took the best care of Dodger that he possibly could.  

He didn’t realize you were standing there so you took a few more moments to admire the sight in front of you.  Chris looked familiar to you, but you just couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Giving up, you made yourself known.

“Just as I thought,” you said, walking into the room, arms folded over your chest.  Chris stood up, concern washing over his face.  “Do you want the good news first, or the good news?”

Chris’ eyes grew wide before finally letting out a sigh, realizing there was only good news to be said.

“I’ll ah, I’ll take the good news first,” he said with a smile; the first smile you had seen of the night; and boy did he look beautiful with a smile.  

“The good news is that I found out what is wrong with him.  He has Giardia.  The other good news is that once his IV is finished, you can take him home.  I’ll give you some antibiotics to start giving him, and you need to start him on a bland diet.  Start with rice and after a couple of days you can add in some cooked chicken.  Feed him that for about a week and then slowly start incorporating his food back into his diet.  He should be as good as new in no time.”

The relief was easily noticeably as Chris relaxed his shoulders; his hand resting on Dodger’s side as he pet his dog.  You walked forward and scratched behind Dodger’s ear.

“Has he been around any other dogs recently?” you asked, looking up at Chris; just noticing now how tall he was compared to your frame.  

“Umm, actually yeah. I took him to the dog park two days ago.”

You nodded, figuring that must have been where he contracted it.  “Giardia is very contagious, especially from other dogs.  In fact, humans can contract it as well.  It’s contracted through feces, or infected water or surfaces from feces.  When you get home tonight, if you aren’t too tired, make sure you clean up all the areas that Dodger has had an accident in the house very well.  We don’t want this moving to you.  I’m also going to give you a special shampoo for Dodger.  It will remove any feces that perhaps maybe stuck into his fur or anywhere on him.”  Chris nodded at your words, ready to do whatever it takes.  

Once Dodger’s IV was finished, you held the door open for Chris as he carried a now sleepy and relaxed Dodger into his car.  After placing him in the backseat, Chris headed back inside to grab the antibiotics and shampoo.  

“How much do I owe you?” Chris asked as he took out his wallet, grabbing his credit card.  

You waved your hands in front of him.  “Please, don’t worry about it Chris.  It’s on the house.”

His hands stilled, looking up at you with shock.  “What? This was considered an emergency. It’s the middle of the night. Please, Dr. Y/L/N, it’s no problem. No matter what the cost is.  Trust me,” he said handing over his credit card.

You smiled at him, gently pushing his hand with the card away from you.  “I can’t possibly charge you when it comes to Dodger.  In any case of emergency, I would have happily helped, especially when it comes to him.  He’s become my best patient,” you said with a smile.  “And please, just like I told your mother, call me Y/N.”

Chris gave you a sad smile and you could tell he was battling with himself over fighting you more, wanting to pay.  

“Are you sure I can’t pay anything?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.  “No. But I will let you pay for his check-up on Monday.  Does that sound fair?”

Chris nodded, giving you another graceful smile.  “It’s less than I was hoping for, but I guess it will have to do.”

After grabbing your purse and coat from your office, you walked Chris to the door.  Shutting off the lights, you locked up and you both headed to your respected cars.

You paused when you got to your door; Chris doing the same at his car as he looked at you.  “You have my number.  Please feel free to call if he worsens at all.”

Chris gave you a nod and a quick smile.  “So I’ll see you on Monday?”

Giving him your own nod and smile, you got into your car and headed back to your quant little house.  

~~~

After Chris got home, he laid Dodger on his dog bed and began to clean the house like a mad man in any and all spots that Dodger had an accident.  

Once he was finished he hopped into bed; his arm leaning over the side to comfort Dodger by petting him.

One thing was for sure, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.  From the minute he saw you, he thought you were so unbelievably beautiful. The way you took care of Dodger also made his heart race in such a desirably way.  He always knew that the woman he was with had to be an animal lover.

And then when you refused to have him pay for your services?  That got his mind reeling.  He couldn’t think of anyone who would refuse payment on an emergency service like this.  In his mind, you seemed like the perfect woman and he couldn’t wait to see you again on Monday.

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[diveronarpg]

In fair Verona, our tale begins with RENZO CAROZZA, who THIRTY-ONE years old. He is often called RODERIGO and works as a SPARROW. He uses HE/HIM pronouns.

TW: DEATH, ADDICTION, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP

Love me, love me, love me. He knows that it was the first thing he said in the form of infant wails -- he screamed it at the nurses that held him, at his mother who cooed her adoration, at his father who watched with ill-disguised indifference. LOVE ME, he cried, cheeks coloring with fury at the thought of being deprived a necessity at so young an age. He would soon found out that not everyone will. There are some people that simply don’t know the pinnacle of beauty and charisma, though it glares at them quite blatantly -- as he often did when his father refused his demands and shut the door in his face. His mother, though, recognized beauty and the limitless potential that saturated everything her sweet Renzo did and for that, he always recognized her as the better of the two. When he called, she simpered at his feet. When he DEMANDED, she made sure he got what he deserved straight away. There was a relentlessness to her devotion that he knew he deserved and could not help but appreciate, though, reflecting back on things, perhaps he should have appreciated it a little more. Then again, he appreciated her as much as she was able to and if she knew him, and truly loved and adored him as she claimed she did, she would have understood that what he affection he gave her was without reservation. And, because of that, he made his PEACE with her death, dew-drop tears glistening like diamonds as they streamed from his eyes. 

He thought then, that perhaps his mother’s death might have spurred the long sought-for clarity that his father needed to recognize the gift that was his son, the GLORIOUS and dashing Renzo. But instead their relationship became even more estranged, despite the young Carozza’s best efforts. It was a rather easy thing to do when two men lived inside a villa so large that neither of them had to cross paths, should they wish it -- and it became quite clear that was his father’s intents. So he made due with the servants and the caretakers that would frequent the halls and go about the rooms, enchanting each and every one until it was clear they were besotted with them, that they simply couldn’t help but eat out of his hand. The one time that he crossed paths with his father, it was with a young woman in tow, a guest of his father’s who was closer to Renzo’s own age, an oversight that the often-benevolent Renzo couldn’t help but note. Kind as he was, Renzo gave his father the benefit of the doubt -- perhaps the woman clung to his father for the riches that he offered, but CLEVER little Renzo could not be taken for such a fool. So ( now pay careful attention because this is where this Aphrodite-kissed boy truly shines ) he learned to tug at her heart-strings, slowly, carefully -- until she was half-crazed by the sudden onslaught of adoration she held for him. While in the act of WORSHIPPING at his altar his father, unfortunately, had been left at the wayside by the pretty little thing who dared to think she could love someone other than Renzo.

All in all, he took his father’s fury in stride, thinking it far more romantic that he be cast out of the house and forced to live with his artist boyfriend, who thought of Renzo as nothing less than Eros-incarnate, of LUST and BEAUTY personified. Their romance was heady, intoxicating, and reckless but it was the romance that only he could garner from someone; obsessive, crazed, and grand. Although, after careful consideration, perhaps it was a little too grand. When he finally thought it was time to wash his hands of his lover and move onto the next, his poor lover took to the bottle, seeking happiness in the form of PILLS on the day that it came for the young Carozza man to move out. When it came time to pick up his final box, he was rather dismayed to find that lying next to it was the dead body of his lover. Unfortunately, there was no room in the moving truck for him. So he called an admirer of his, a woman that worked as a Sparrow, and asked for her assistance. As they did away with his poor lover’s body, he couldn’t help but charm her, couldn’t help but tug at her heartstrings in such an easy and effortless way. You could make a pretty penny as a Sparrow, she sighed as she helped him wash the scene of crime, it is so very easy, Renzo, to fall in love with you.

There was no reason for him to doubt the truth of her words -- in fact, it was only affirmed because, he thinks, that Mona fell a little in love with him too. Him and his coquettish, playful ways. His transition into his role as a Sparrow was SEAMLESS, the title fitting him as easily as custom-made Gucci rings. Although, even with all the attention and adoration that is lavished on him each and every day, he can’t help but feel his discontent grow as the years drag on. What would have once satiated him is now leaving a yawning, hungering HOLE in his heart. Even with the many clients that come calling at his door, he cannot find it in himself to be contented -- not with the gifts that they offer or the many shiny things they bring. The secrets that they whisper in his ear are worth so much to many others, but so little to him. Love me, he demands while his fingers seek purchase on his lover-of-the-day’s throat. Love me until I beg you to stop. He knows in his heart, though, that Renzo Carozza will never be one to beg. 

IVAN RAHAL: Frustration. There are a handful of people that don’t fall at his feet the moment they meet his eyes and the most frustrating, by far, is Ivan Rahal. There are times when Renzo thinks he can see it, a flicker of interest and something dangerously warm in their gaze, but in the next second it’s gone and he is left clawing for it all over again. When Ivan steps foot in the Dark Lady, all the other Sparrows know that Renzo is at the top of the pecking order and they make way for him as he tries, time and time again, to capture and hold the attention of his elusive man. Though he wouldn’t dare muse on it for longer than a half-second, Renzo knows why he grows so frustrated. When he is with Ivan, it seems that the yawning hunger in his heart pauses, breathes, and purrs -- for once, well and truly satiated. 

RONAN IVARSSON & FELIPE CASTRO: Client & Inconvenience. There is one thing that Renzo simply cannot abide and it is keeping incredibly juicy secrets. A person might think, Wait, Renzo, isn’t that your whole entire job? And he would honestly answer, Yes, but none of them are that interesting. Sleeping with a city councilman, though? Often times he has to bite his tongue because it is simply that difficult for him to not gloat about how he thinks the great Ronan Ivarsson might very well crawl on his hands and knees to spend another night with him. Better yet, there is also the mouth-watering specimen that resides with the Sparrows at the Dark Lady that makes concentrating on his job rather difficult. Why he lives there, no one quite knows, but if he doesn’t move out soon Renzo can’t help but take advantage of the situation. How could he let such an opportunity go amiss? 

DAPHNE ALLARD: Fascination. He wonders if she notices how his gaze lingers on her. There are few people that he thinks are as beautiful as he, but there is an allure about Daphne he finds oddly arresting. It snatches him and holds him captive, begging him to lure her close and closer in, to make her sit at his feet and yet he also wants her to sit right beside him. For the longest time he thought that his hold over her was unshakeable, could never be reckoned with or tempered, but recently he has realized a frightening truth; that her hold on him is just as unforgiving. Renzo is a clever man, he can play people’s heartstrings like a virtuoso, but he has never once thought that they were capable of doing it to him. He knows he should watch his steps with Daphne Allard -- he couldn’t afford to be placed in her pocket as an informant -- but there’s something about her that dares him to come a little closer. So he does. 

HELOISE MAKSIMOVICH: Echo. Narcissus and Echo are far too romanticized. He did not realize this until he met the unrelenting Heloise. It’s a pity because that was one of his favorite stories he has ever unearthed, but when he met her a new understanding of the age-old tale came with it. Narcissus loved himself so much that he practiced self-care by ignoring the creepy, longing gaze of Echo -- but, unfortunately, he can’t quite find it in himself to do the same. Although she’s rather incessant, the time that they spend together gives him the opportunity to practice which ways he can get his clients to adore him all the more. A careful drag of his hand along her shoulder, a sweet sigh that has her swooning that much more. If he keeps on like this, she’ll be the Echo to his Narcissus to the end of time. 

Renzo is portrayed by DON BENJAMIN and was written by ROSEY. He is currently OPEN.

[theavenir36-blog]

Exactly how Condo Buyers Can Prevent Paying Too Much: Ten Important Tips

Whether you're the first-time buyer or a experienced professional in the real estate video game, purchasing a condominium can be an overwhelming task, fraught with monetary pitfalls as well as potential earnings. It's an emotional procedure filled with difficult choices-and every decision you make has cash riding on it. Finding the right condominium for your family's needs is actually tough enough; knowing how to prevent paying too much for that wonderful living space is another job completely.

As a professional Realtor® that has helped countless buyers discover their dream home as well as save money at the same time, I've created this guide to help you avoid the possible hazards inherent in the condo-buying process. I'll show you steps to make certain you've found the best home, as well as how to make a deal a price to your advantage. These are training you truly can't pay for to learn through trial and error.

Suggestion #1: Determine Your Condominium "Minimums" Ahead of Time.

Understand that you will find two condos out there competing for your attention-one that satisfies your needs and one that satisfies your desires. In a ideal world, you could choose which three-bedroom condo with space for your family to grow, but still have the perfect floor arrange for entertaining and social events. Is that big kitchen more vital to you than a few additional rooms?

When you begin shopping for your own condo, you'll encounter attributes you'll fall in love with for different factors. It's best to list the features that you would like before you start shopping. Break your current list into two categories-"Needs" and "Desires"-and prioritize the things accordingly. Understanding what you really need in your condo instead of what you'd like to have will assist you to keep your priorities straight while you shop around .

Don't let emotion fog up your judgment. Satisfy your requirements first, and if you can satisfy some of your desires along the way, so much the better. What's essential is to understand the difference prior to getting caught-up in the excitement from the hunt.

Tip #2: Acquire a Pre-Approved Mortgage.

If you are not buying with money, getting a loan pre-approved may be the smart way to shop for a high-rise apartment. It tells sellers that you have been a serious prospect, and you understand in advance the maximum mortgage you are able to afford.

I've seen purchasers make the mistake of studying what they qualify for, but not obtaining pre-approval in writing. You've eliminated this far, so make next step-get it on paper.

The good news is that it's easier than ever to be approved for a home loan.

Tip #3: Communicate with Your Realtor.

Through finding the right condo to home inspections and negotiating the best offer, the condo search method can be exhausting for the actual hardiest souls. That's why sensible condo buyers have a Realtor® in their corner. Most retailers you encounter are definitely going to have professionals on the side. Having a pro on the team is the safest method to ensure that you get the best deal feasible.

Once you have a clear, detailed image of the condo you want, make sure that your agent has the same photo. This communication is critical. Or else, you'll both waste time taking a look at homes that hold little attention for you.

Also, make sure your Real estate professional knows your priorities. Your own shared goal is to you should find an excellent condo that fulfills all of your needs; your Real estate agent will then try to satisfy as numerous of your desires as possible.

Idea #4: The Cliché holds true... Location, Location, Location!

The actual desirability and resale associated with your condo-to-be depends on area more than any other single element. Again, don't let emotion enter the way of a wise investment. Absolutely no condo is an island, and also the value of yours is influenced in what surrounds it.

There are several components that combine to create a great location. Your first consideration will be the neighborhood itself. Every community has its own unique character; you have to make sure you'd be comfortable within the one you're thinking of residing in. Take a long walk and also observe carefully. Do individuals take pride in their building? Speak with the neighbors and ask queries that give you a better really feel for the property. But take care not to appear judgmental-you might be speaking with a future neighbor. The Avenir showflat

If the creating is to your satisfaction, search for units on the market in the area. Very large units surrounded by smaller sized ones tend to appreciate not more than a large condo among some other large condos. Conversely, the tiniest unit in the building is usually "pulled up" by the additional units in the building. But it might take longer to sell an inferior unit when the time arrives because many people are unwilling to pay for extra for the neighborhood.

The exterior edge of a neighborhood is generally not good for resale value. You will find noticeable dividing lines among dissimilar neighborhoods. It could be a positive change in architectural styles, house use or something else. Choose a condo in the middle of a area of similar buildings; it is going to hold its value much better. The Avenir showflat

An exception to this rule is really a building on the edge of the neighborhood bounded by drinking water, parkland, a golf course or even other open space. Organic boundaries appeal to buyers, these types of "edge" condos can actually control a better price. Be mindful, but of the planned use for your open space. A general public park is nice; a brand new freeway, strip mall or perhaps industrial center isn't.

Other activities that can negatively affect home values are traffic, noises, smells, etc . Be sure to provide the neighborhood a long, hard appear. The condo you're interested in might be perfect, but if the neighborhood offers problems, your investment will not be worth as much when the period comes to sell.

Tip #5: Enjoy the Present, but Think about the Future.

Buying a condo is actually a big investment. If you can extend a little today financially to order unit that you can grow with-whether it's having a child, managing a home-based business, or turning an extra room into your personal gym-do it. In the long run, it will oftimes be less expensive than moving up to some marginally larger unit once the need does arise.

Hint #6: Pay Attention to Red Flags Whenever Evaluating a Condo.

When analyzing the advantages and drawbacks of a specific property, be sure you know the distinction between acceptable and undesirable problems.

Some issues-peeling color, worn carpeting, ugly wallpaper-are cosmetic and can be easily cured. You can even use these "problems" during negotiations to lower the actual asking price. After all, you'll need to spend cash to bring the condo as much as snuff.

Make careful notice of the issues you identify that can be used to your advantage. Avoid nit-pick, however-if taken to extreme conditions, you could end up alienating owner and creating a hostile environment.

In my experience, spending a few 100 dollars on a professional house inspection is the best investment you will ever make. A professional inspector brings experience in analyzing a great many homes, good assessment standards, and an impartial perspective. And a written statement can be an excellent negotiating device.

Don't let a condo's good attributes blind you to really real problems. If you do, the probabilities are good that you'll end up investing much more money than you actually expected at some point down the line.

The good thing for buyers is that the legislation now requires sellers to create complete disclosure of recognized material defects. Make sure to understand this in writing. And carefully think about how these defects may influence what you're offering.

Tip #7: Some Fixer-Uppers Are "Good-Byes, " Bad Buys.

You may be the sort associated with person who looks at a condo needing significant work as "a challenge" and an opportunity to make money. Lots of people have bought fixer-uppers at below-market rates, invested a little perspiration equity or more than a small money on renovation, after which eventually put it back on the market in a profit.

But if your unit isn't very priced low enough, you will not recoup your investment of your time, trouble and expense. Before you decide to proceed, do a careful analysis of what you'll have to commit. Then, consult with your Realtor to understand what you can reasonably be prepared to earn when you put the device back on the market. And be absolute to consider the unexpected-there's no such thing like a "sure thing. "

Word of advice #8: Put on Your Best Online poker Face.

One of the costliest errors you can make is letting the vendor know how much you love his / her condo. Once you've let it slide, you can just about forget about discussing the price-the other part knows how motivated you might be. In fact , a seller could see this as an opportunity to press a little more money out of a person even when you've made a good provide to start with; no matter how wonderful a house is, keep it to your self.

Keep your own situation in order to yourself as well. Information may be used against you. How much if you're willing to spend, the size of home loan you can afford, your move-in deadline-it all can be used to draw out more money out of your pocket. Make sure to tell your agent everything she or he needs to know to be effective in your behalf-whether you plan to pay funds or the size of the mortgage loan you can afford, etc . Still keep your personal circumstances along with timeline to yourself.

Inversely, knowledge is power. The reason why behind a sale can often be utilized to your competitive advantage throughout negotiations. For example , a owner whose company has moved him to another city is most likely more motivated to sell compared to someone who is still looking for a brand new home.

Other signs of any motivated seller include a vacant product, or a condo that's been available on the market for several months with cutbacks in the asking price.

Tip #9: Don't Be Pressured, but Perform Negotiate.

While you want to shift expeditiously once you're within negotiations, don't let the other aspect pressure you into a fast close. It may be a sign that there are something you should know, but avoid. And the reason could be really worth money.

Sometimes, the seller's Realtor will try to frighten a hesitant buyer using the threat of another severe potential buyer. Don't get into this trap-it will only set you back money. If there is another purchaser, then the seller's agent will attempt to get a bidding war began. In these situations, whoever is victorious also loses because the customer ends up overpaying.

If there is not another buyer, there's a very good chance that "the various other deal" will fall via and the seller's agent can come calling. Be sure to let the different side know that you might be curious if this were to happen, before you decide to walk away.

You may be the type of person who else prefers a hard-and-fast price on everything. "I don't like to be able to haggle, " you state. But negotiation is the key to get a good deal! If your goal is to get the best property possible for the least amount of money, then you definitely better be prepared to play. Your current Realtor can assist you with these sometimes-stressful negotiations.

Tip #10: Prepared - Set - Buy!

Good properties move quick! Once you've made up your mind to get condo and you've arranged your Realtor, be prepared to create decisions quickly. If you find the proper unit today but not necessarily ready to buy until the next day, you may already be too late. It can that simple-if you have dropped in love with a particular condominium, another person in the market probably has too.

If this all sounds like lots of work, it is. But this really is to be expected when you're purchasing anything of such excellent value. And you'll thank oneself and your Realtor when the end result is to your satisfaction.

Make sure you feel free to call me if you want further explanation on these tips, or if you have any kind of real estate questions at all.

The mission is to share the data and insights I've collected from years of experience in the market in order to help you optimize your home investment.

The Avenir by GuocoLand. Hotline 61006768. Get Discount, Direct Developer Price, Brochure, Floor Plan, Price List & More. Former Pacific Mansion at River Valley

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 8)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1599

Chapter summary: Easter holidays and ignoring Bucky's show; all anyone can talk about.

Warnings: a little bit of angst :( no actually Bucky, but soon!

Previous: Chapter 7

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

Waking up early on Monday, you take a few moments to just lay there, enjoying the quiet. You know today will be difficult, no matter how many promises of letting go and moving on you've made to yourself. Five more minutes avoiding the inevitable won't hurt.

Peggy had insisted you stayed until late afternoon yesterday, not wanting you to be alone too soon, but you couldn't intrude on her for too long. The short walk back to your house felt like a marathon as you past right by the house Bucky used to rent a flat in, and you couldn't stop yourself from glancing through the hedge and into the window that used to be his lounge. The 'for let' sign was up again, another neighbour moving on some place new, and you'd quickly slipped on your sunglasses, not wanting any pupils to see their teacher crying in the street. Reaching home, you were surprised to find your abandoned shopping placed neatly inside your porch. Looking a little scuffed and bashed, but nonetheless edible, you'd brought it inside as you wondered who you had to thank.

Dayton had called you yesterday evening, under the guise of just checking in, but you had a feeling it was more than that, and it didn't take long to get it out of him. Bucky had turned up at his place on Saturday night, after you'd seen him, and when Dayton had taken the opportunity to ask about what was happening between the two of you he'd taken off again.

“Didn't give me a chance to go after him. Straight back in his taxi and puff, gone.”

“Where's he now then?” You'd asked, worried despite everything. You can't just switch your feelings off overnight.

“On his way back to America, according to one of his cast mates. Buck's not answering my calls.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

“What if it is!” You'd exclaimed. “What if I've caused a wedge between you and him? Just because he hates me shouldn't mean he-”

Dayton interrupted, bewildered. “Whoa, what? Hates you? What's going on?”

Trying to summarise Saturdays events, the tears made an appearance again. He was just as astounded and angry as Peggy was, sure you must have heard Bucky wrong, but you know what he said.

You don't think you'll ever forget it.

“Don't you worry about it, I'll find out what's going on.” Dayton had hung up with a promise.

Pulled back from your reminiscing by your alarm, you sigh and slide out of bed, hoping to get this day over as quickly and painlessly as possible.

*****

Easter is late this year, a blessing as it means you only have to make it through a short week before the school breaks for a fortnight. Even three and a half days feel like forever, especially as the upset caused by seeing Bucky again, and everything that came with it, has you running on hardly any sleep.

His television show has clearly wrapped, the promotion in full swing, and all the children at school can talk about is the trailer. You haven't been able to bring yourself to watch it yet, which is why it comes as such a shock during lunch break on Tuesday when a double decker bus rolls past the front gates, his image plastered on the side, two times larger than life. You vaguely recognise the actor he's standing beside, but you're too dazed to think straight.

Noticing your frozen figure staring after the bus, Peggy comes across to stand with you, a comforting hand on your arm as you turn to her open mouthed.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You spin back to the playground where all the children who also saw the advert are straining to see it again. “Have you watched the trailer?”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“Then yes. It actually looks quite good.”

“Of course it does,” You mutter bitterly.

“Sam Wilson is always great.”

You nod in agreement. No wonder Bucky had been so excited to get this role, there weren't many actors he placed higher than Sam Wilson, and getting to work with him was probably a dream come true.

It's just a shame that dream didn't involve you.

*****

By the time Thursday afternoon arrives you feel like you need the two weeks off just to sleep. A few pencils were snapped when you suddenly remembered Bucky's words to you but other than that, you managed to get through to the end of term with no major break downs.

The holiday comes at a good time weather wise too, and you bask in the sun with the chickens for most of the first weekend. You're happy the hens got to enjoy a few full days of freedom in the garden, as when you open their coop the next morning, little Dot isn't moving.

It is obvious she's gone.

Moving her away from the others as you find the spade to dig her a final resting place, you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. She was always Bucky's favourite, smaller than the others and picked on more because of it, he made sure she never missed out on treats.

Replacing the earth after you bury her in a shady spot under the willow, you find a tall, pretty daisy to plant in loose soil over her, before slumping down on to the bench nearby, exhausted both physically and mentally. Most people laughed when you said you had such pets, not understanding how a farm animal could be as interesting and rewarding as a more conventional companion, but then they met them and understood your love. It's always hard when you lose one, harder still when the person you long to speak to about it has made it clear he doesn't want you in his life any more.

When Sophia comes to stay during the second week she brings Benjamin, and flowers in sympathy for your loss. She gets it. Helping her unpack her weekend bag, you listen to her chatter away about her plans for the nursery, and how they're trying to squeeze one last holiday in before they become a family of four.

Dayton's on a trip back home, very last minute, and he'd asked you if you minded keeping Sophia company for the couple of days he's away. He didn't say why he's going back to the USA but you have an idea, it would be too much of a coincidence so soon after Bucky disappeared from his driveway after your confrontation. Regardless of your own feelings that it would be pointless to try and talk him round, you wish him luck in his quest.

She knows about the current situation surrounding you and Bucky, but ever the optimist, she's convinced that it's nothing more than a silly argument that will be resolved in a few weeks. You don't have the heart to tell her otherwise. Instead, you busy yourself with keeping Sophia and Benjamin fed, watered and entertained, playing the perfect host to hide your pain.

*****

School holidays used to drag on forever when you were a child, however now you work there it feels like you blink and it's over. You're not too disappointed to be back, however, as the summer term is the most enjoyable in your experience, the lighter evenings meaning you don't feel so confined in your home after you finish for the day, and the children seem more happy and carefree in the warmer weather.

There were also more dates in the calender this time of year, it'll be sports day again before long, but first, the May Day celebrations. You hadn't been involved in the organisation of this years fête, and as you stare at the poster and the announcement of the 'extra special star guest', you really wish you had. Ripping the flyer off the wall, you march to Peggy's office, not bothering to knock before you burst in so it's lucky she's alone.

“What the hell is this?”

“I could ask you the same, Y/N.” She stands from her desk, moving to close the door behind you. “You can't just charge in here unannounced. We've got to at least pretend to be professional.”

She's joking but you're not laughing, shoving the offending piece of paper into her hands, causing her smile to slip.

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. Why the hell didn't you tell me he was coming?” You pace as you rant. “Why the hell is he coming? What has he got to do with anything! And you must have some sort of input in this, why did you let it happen?”

“I'm sorry Y/N. What was I meant to do?”

“Stop it!”

“Without airing yours and his private lives, there's nothing I could’ve done!”

She's right. Huffing in frustration, you hold your tongue. You can't afford to lose two friends in less than half a year, and you know Peggy hasn't done this on purpose, now you think about it rationally Bucky being there would bring a lot of attention to the schools humble spring fête. You can no longer go on any website, or watch TV, without seeing his face. Whatever the show is about you're not sure, as you still haven't got the strength to watch any of the dozens of videos hanging around, but it's clear it's going to be the next big sensation. That Bucky is going to be the next big sensation.

You guess you're going to have to suck it up and ignore your heartache, just for one day.

*****

A/n: lot's of Bucky in the next chapter, I promise! And maybe an explanation or two...

As always, thank you for reading!! Feedback is very welcome if you would like :D

Chapter 9