I sincerely wish we had the option to say some version of this to Damien, rather than the options we got in the cushy little Ch 15 eighteen-diamond scene where we could either excuse his past behaviour towards Hayden and Sloane, or a milquetoast "yeah go talk to them" (which, btw, he never canonically does).

To date I'm still mad this guy never fucking apologized genuinely for whatever bullshit he spewed in Berlin.

Your writing gives me so much life. (Especially the chronic pain one! I personally struggle with CMP) They're so great I'm love- ah, when you have the time, how would the dads react to dadsona being a mortician/undertaker? Thank you!

I’m glad you like my little stories so much! That means a lot to me. I myself suffer from Fibromyalgia, so the chronic pain one was dear to my heart.

The prompt fill doesn’t contain any disturbing scenes, but, naturally, there is talk about dead people. The Robert one mentions an instrument I would strongly advise you not to google unless you’re not bothered by stuff like that. So, now that that’s out of the way, please enjoy!

🥃 Telling Robert about yourwork was pretty easy. Thing is, he didn’t believe you. The second time, he didn’tbelieve you either. The third, he congratulated you on your dedication to yourstory and toasted (with non-alcoholic beer) to your funeral home, in a tone ofvoice that made clear he didn’t believe you one bit. So, you decided to showhim. “What, did you pay the workers to act like you’re a co-worker?” You shootRobert an unimpressed look and park in front of the funeral home. “Do youreally think I’d pay that much money for something like that?” He raises hiseyebrow at you. Okay, yes, you probably would. You stick out your tongue andlead him inside. “Now, don’t let anyone know I’m doing this, but I don’t thinkanything else would convince you. You can watch me embalm a body.” For thefirst time since you told him about your job, Robert looks unsure. But he nodsand obediently puts on the gloves and other protective gear you hand him over,and follows you into the room. At the first sight of the dead body, he freezes.“Are there hidden cameras?” You snort and take out your tools. The moment you take out the needle injector and get ready to use it, Robert says“Nope” and leaves the room. You put aside your tools and follow him, a bitworried he would get sick or worse. He’s in the corridor, leaning against thewall and looking a bit green, but he seems to be fine otherwise. He looks up asyou approach and groans. “Okay, I believe you. Jesus Christ, kid, what thefuck.” You take off your gloves and pat his shoulder.

🍸 You stand back as you watch Joseph lead thefinal prayer that would bring the wake to an end. At first, you were surprisedto see him, but now you’re just giddy to approach him afterwards and see hisreaction. So far, all conversation between him and your funeral home had gonethrough one of your staff – he doesn’t know what you do for a living and peoplealways react differently, so you are curious to see. Once the family members ofthe deceased all had left, you push off the wall and walk up towards thecasket, where Joseph is packing up his things. You clear your throat and takesmall delight in his startled jump. He turns. “Crackers, Y/N! Don’t scare melike that. What are you doing here?” You grin and spread your arms. “What, canI not be in my own funeral home?” Joseph does a visible double take. His facegoes through a number of emotions – confusion, wonder, realisation – before settlingon surprise. “I didn’t know you were a funeral director.”“It never came up. I tend to avoid talking about it, most people freak out. Imean, sure, I admit it’s kind of creepy to prepare and deal with corpses on adaily basis, but not that much,” you say with a shrug. Joseph nods and adjusts histab collar. He looks very dashing all in black. “I don’t think it’s weird atall,” he assures you. “I think it is great people are willing to perform thoseservices. Speaking of—“ He wraps an arm around your waist and gestures towardsyour office. “There are some things I want to go through again regarding thefuneral.”

☕ “You know,” Mat says after handing you yourdrink. You’re in the Coffee Spoon; Pablo is manning the till and it is slow, soMat joins you at your table and sits down. “You never told me what you do for aliving.” You hum against your cup and set it down after inhaling the sweet,sweet scent of caffeine. Having a boyfriend who owned a coffee shop is thegreatest thing in the world, next to Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road GhostTruckers. It means free drinks and more banana bread than a single personshould have. “Please don’t freak out,” you say. Immediately, Mat looks worried.You reach across the table and put a hand on his. “It’s nothing bad or illegal.Most people just freak out when I tell them.” You can practically see the cogsand wheels start turning in his head. He always furrows his eyebrows and frownswhen he’s thinking hard, it’s cute. “Are you a plumber?” You snort into yourcoffee and shake your head. “No.” He hums. “Crime scene cleaner?” Again, youshake your head. Mat looks at you, probably trying to picture you in a varietyof weird professions. You decide to take pity on him. “I’m a mortician. I own afuneral home the next town over.” Mat’s eyes widen and his lips form an ‘oh’.For a few moments, he doesn’t say anything. When he does, it’s clear he’ssearching for words. “That’s…” You tap his knuckles and chuckle. “You can saycreepy.” He blushes at being caught out. He turns over his hand so he can takeyours in his and lace your fingers. “It’s pretty creepy, baby.”

🌹 You don’t know why you never told Damien aboutyour job. After your visit to the graveyard where he told you of his views ondeath, you should have stopped worrying about his reaction once he found out,but old habits die hard and so, it’s by accident that he finds out. You weresitting together in his garden, enjoying the sunset, when your phone rang. Someonedied and their body needed to be picked up and taken to the funeral home. Afteryou hang up, you turn to him and try to think of an excuse that doesn’t involvethe phrase ‘dead person’, but it’s late and the words flow off your tongue. “Dames,I haven’t told you about my line of work yet and there’s a reason. Most peopleget freaked out and I was afraid you’d also react like that. But I just got acall and I have to go. I’m a mortician and own a funeral home. Someone died andI need to pick up the body.” Damien is silent, looking at you with the samecalm expression that he has most of the time. It helps you calm down. He’sstill leaned against you, he doesn’t seem grossed out at all. No, there’s aglimmer in his eyes… “Can I come with you?” Your mouth falls open. That’s areaction you didn’t expect, at all. “I won’t get in the way or touch anything Ishouldn’t touch, but I find it fascinating and would like to be witness to yourwork. I wish you had told me sooner about your profession, darling, but I dounderstand.” You stutter out a “Sure, come along” and get on your feet. Hekeeps on surprising you, even after all this time.

🎣 The topic of your profession comes up after thefirst time you visited Brian at work and got introduced to his co-workers. You’rein his kitchen, cooking his latest catch, when he speaks up. “In case youcouldn’t tell, the people at work really like you.”“Normally, I hate meeting new people, but with them it kind of felt like Ialready knew them. Probably because you told me so much about them beforehand.”Brian chuckles. “I also told them a lot about you.” You playfully grumble aboutbragging boyfriends who like to show off with their partners. After a pause,you say “Though I also tell my staff a lot about you, so I guess we’re even”and laugh. Brian grins. “So when I visit you at work, they’ll greet me like anold acquaintance?” You fall silent for a moment and turn down the stove beforeturning to face him. “Yeah, about that…” Your tone makes him frown. He reachesout to wrap an arm around you and searches your face for a reason why your moodchanged so quickly. “You might not want to come visit my work once you hearwhat I do. I’m a funeral director.” Brian’s eyes go wide and he pales visibly.He swallows hard and rubs the back of his head with his free hand, laughingnervously. “Oh. So you… I… that’s kind of creepy, isn’t it?” You shrug; itstopped being weird decades ago. “I still want to see your workplace. Just… nodead bodies anywhere near me, okay?” You let out a breath you hadn’t evenrealised you were holding and lean up to kiss his chin. “I promise. No deadpeople.”

👟 ‘Hey bro, I have to postpone our workout sessionlater today. Just got a call from work. I’ll drop by yours as soon as I’m done.’Craig’s reply comes after a few minutes, more hearts – he stopped writing outemoji some time ago and started actually using them right – than words butreassurances that he didn’t mind none the less. At half past seven you walkover to his house. You don’t get to knock – he’s opening the door before youeven raised your hand and pulls you close against his chest. You smile and wrapyour arms and legs around him as he lifts you and carries you over to thecouch. “Bro, your text got me thinking.” You hum and gesture for him tocontinue while getting comfortable, nuzzling into your very buff and still verynice-to-cuddle boyfriend. “I have no idea what you do for a living.”“You went to college with me, Craig. You were there when I graduated.” Hegently elbows your side. “That doesn’t mean you actually ended up working inthat field! Or maybe you switched professions somewhere down the line. There’sno way I’m just going to presume, bro. So, did it work out?” You kiss his cheekand nod. “I actually own my own funeral home now.” Craig grins down at you. “That’sgreat, bro. I’m happy you got to do something with your degree.”“Unlike you, Mister ‘let’s study whatever sounds the easiest’?” Craig purposelybrushes his finger over that very sensitive spot that never fails to make yousquirm. “Shut up.” You narrow your eyes at him in a challenging glare. “Makeme.”

📖  “So, earlier today Ernest told me somethinginteresting. He claims to have seen you drive a hearse. I’m not sure whether hewas lying or telling the truth, you never know with him, but I thought I’dbreach the topic with you anyway, in case he takes his joke any further. If it’sa joke.” Hugo looks at you over his glasses and puts aside his book. You stealanother piece of cheese off his plate and eat it with a cracker. “Not a joke. I’man undertaker, own my own funeral home. Does that freak you out? I canunderstand if it does. Not everyone’s comfortable knowing someone handles deadbodies.” Hugo pushes up his glasses, giving your question serious thought. “Itdoesn’t freak me out as much as I wonder why anyone would want to do that for aliving. But it’s your choice, so I respect that. I know I would never, everwant to do something like that, but then, you probably feel the same aboutbeing a teacher.” You offer him cheese from your plate in silent appreciationfor what he said. You two settle back against each other, your back to hischest, and he picks up his book again. Comfortable silence descends on you likea soft cotton blanket. “There’s something else you should know,” you say and Hugoraises an eyebrow. “I only had to drive around with the hearse once, today, soI know exactly when he saw me. You might want to ask him what he was doing outof school at ten in the morning.” Hugo curses and sits up. “That little—“