The Impossible Order | Ch.2

Summary line: Mr. Min is a stoic boss who will never outwardly show appreciation for you. Not until you’re gone does he recognize how much you do. And what you do matters to him.

ceo!Yoongi | best.friend!Hoseok | romance, fluff, angst, and stuff

Loosely inspired by Secretary Kim and this third bullet point of the prompt list

Last chapter

~•~

Last night, one of the Peruvian suppliers was able to promise 250 ct worth of tourmaline, but it would be delivered in two weeks rather than the originally intended week and a half. Knowing your boss is one for deadlines and punctuality, you believe he’d prefer Hestia Sourcing. Despite your own gut telling you that Peruvian Treasures will pay off in the long run. Regardless of the turnaround time from your main supplier, the 200 ct in two weeks will keep the remaining four projects afloat before the regular shipment. However, you still report the remaining two supplier response and quotes, also providing your own input. Mr. Min says he prefers Hestia; as expected.

“How goes the status on our tourmaline crisis?” Mr. Min asks as he sips on his third cup of coffee this morning.

“Hestia Sourcing has already been officially contacted for their shipment of tourmaline to arrive in a week and a half. Jimin is currently working with Kim Taehyung on the new design for the frame. Seokjin has already crafted two other designs for you to look at today before he meets with Yoo Jae Suk tomorrow. Beyoncé loves alexandrite, but the tourmaline was intended to match with her costumer designer’s vision for the Met Gala, so he’s unwilling to make changes. Your father had already ok’d the change for your parent’s anniversary gift, so we can switch their gemstones with alexandrite instead. The JP team has already started working on the mold for the Jubilee. And marketing just emailed me the final draft for the letter to the customers and PR is still working with marketing for the ethically sourced advertisement. They are utilizing internet ad platforms, both short clip video ads and on social media.” You handed him your tablet for him to read over the final draft letter and Seokjin’s designs.

“Tell marketing to go ahead with the letter. Also, tell Seokjin that I would also like to see his first design with silver instead of rose gold.”

“Yes, Mr. Min.”

“Today I’m meeting with Jasper and Jester Industries over Zoom at 12:30. Tell the tech team I want to use the hologram projector during this meeting because we’re showing them the prototype today. Speaking of prototype, I need to see the prototype from the TP team by 10. Go to L’Orange today for lunch today; I want the lamb chops. James and Soobin will be coming at 1:30 to go over the purchasing of the mine sites for the cobalt mining. Check back in with me at 2 on the Kim Taehyung project and the marketing strategy. I want to see Seokjin’s new designs by 3. And check with our supply team if we’re maintaining our upkeep of inventory. If not, I need a list before 11 this morning along with suppliers’ response for turnaround time and quotes.”

“Yes, Mr. Min.” You had your hands clasped behind your back the entire time.

“Another coffee please.”

“Yes, Mr. Min.” Without another word, you step out and take out your recorder. You play back his directives as you get the coffee.

~•~

“Hey, Hoseok.” You sigh as you pour hot water into your instant noodle bowl for lunch.

“Hey, Sunshine.” You chuckle. If the either of you were the sunshine, it’d be him.

“How’s Yeontan?”

“He’s fine. The vet says that he’s a little underfed, but otherwise, he’s still the most adorable Yeontan-ie that has ever lived.” Hoseok gushes at the puppy in his lap as he drives on his way back to his home. Hoseok will be holding onto Yeontan until the weekend.

“Ok. That’s good news. Was he good at the vet?”

“He hates the vet. You should know that better than I do. I was a dog catcher for 30 minutes. And he caused a whole waiting room full of dogs into a frenzy. Did you know that one of the people there brought their snake? I hate those. Yeontan almost fought a snake! You have no idea how hard it was for me to finally grab Yeontan before anything drastic happened.” You laugh as he goes on about his heroic deed of saving your pup from a snake.

“You did very well. Thank you, Hoseok.”

“Never mind that, Blessings. Hey. Are you coming over today after work?”

“I might. My boss has been very extra today. Every ten minutes, his chat bubble pops up adding 3 more things to do. But honestly, with the amount of things going on today, he shouldn’t have anything else left to do tonight. I might actually get off work on time.

“Good. Good. ‘Cause I was thinking –“ before Hoseok can finish his words, you hear the sound of a car swerve.

“Hoseok? You ok?”

“Yeah. Some idiot w-“ and the line cut off.

~•~

At 12:15, you were nowhere to be found. You left a message to Yoongi that you had to take the day off. Everything you were requested to do was already set in motion like a Rube Goldberg machine. You texted him saying that there are cups and cups of coffee in the fridge ready for him. If he wants hot, he’ll have to wait another day. And as promised, everything Yoongi needed was here. He had everything he needed. You just weren’t there to provide it.

“Where’s Y/N?” Seokjin asks as he comes in at 3pm like clockwork, “I would’ve thought she’d give me that 20-minute warning like she always does when I have a meeting with you.” She does that?

“I don’t know. She took a half day. I haven’t seen her since 11 or something.” Yoongi says nonchalantly as he looks over the Seokjin’s work. Seokjin just blinks at that before he starts slowly, “That’s not like her. Is everything ok? Do you know what happened?”

“No.”

“It’s just not like her to –“

“I like it better in silver this way.” Yoongi cuts him off, gesturing to the new designs.

“Heh. Yeah, Y/N said you would. I wanted to show you the rose gold one first anyway.” Seokjin chuckles as he sits down across the table from him, “Speaking of Y/N,” I wasn’t speaking about her…, “You got the supplies list for JP, TP, and HP, right? She told me you were working with the cobalt mine sites today. She told me to tell you that since cobalt is one of the supplies on the list, and the mine site wouldn’t be ready just yet, she contacted 3 different cobalt miners and selected Arrows for the cobalt supply.”

“She should’ve come to me first about the different miners. We have our upcoming product from HP –“

“The ceramic tiles for Ms. James’ bathroom. Yeah. She contacted HP. They require 300 g and Arrows is the only one with the adequate amount of supply. It will be here in 5 days.” Seokjin stands up and walks over to Yoongi’s kitchen, “All the other suppliers have been contacted. She sent me the list and wants me to report it to you.”

“You’re just a designer for the jewelry department,” Yoongi says as he looks through his email to see if you sent him any recent emails. Nothing.

“Give me some credit. I’ve got a brain and it’s used for more than just designing. Don’t forget, before I was a designer, I was also your assistant too.”

“Yeah, a pretty bad one.” Yoongi snorts. It’s why he needed you.

“We were just a startup! We literally just graduated then.” Seokjin protests as he come back over and sets down a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of Yoongi.

“I thought Y/N only had iced ones left.”

“She did, but she instructed me to heat up one for you before we go over the list with you.” Seokjin scoots his chair closer as he whips out his tablet to bring up the supplies list, “And one for after.”

~•~

“Mr. Jung has suffered a serious blow to the head and is currently unconscious. We don’t know when he will wake at this point. His left arm has scarring from the glass shatters from the window when the car was impacted. His left leg has a hairline fracture and the patella was dislocated but has already been set back. Luckily, his left leg is the worst of the limbs. There’s bruising on the right thigh and right elbow also has bruising. The bruises are likely from holding on to the dog during impact. His right arm has some muscle tears do to strain.

“Right now, our biggest concern is when he will wake up. He had internal bleeding in the brain but the blood has been removed and there’s no clotting, in his brain or anywhere near his spine. Everything is where it needs to be, and there’s nothing that indicated long term brain damage or trauma. But we won’t know for sure until he wakes up.” The doctor nods his head and leaves.

You sniff as you cross your arms, staring at your best friend lying in the hospital bed. His head is wrapped as well as his left arm. His left leg is currently suspended in its cast. By his left eyes and cheeks, are massive bruises that still look sticky and gooey.

If only I didn’t let him take Yeontan…

“How’s my dog?”

“We checked in with the vet hospital nearby. Your dog has no extreme injuries, only mild bruising. The doctor wants him to stay overnight for observation.” The nurse reports to you. You shiver from the lonely air of the hospital.

“You can go in and see the patient right now, but please do not touch him. And visiting hours will be over in 40 minutes.” The nurse gently reminds you before you nod, thanking the nurse and heading in.

Walking towards Hoseok, your nose feels the burn as tears well up in your eyes. Before you even reach Hoseok’s bed, the tears already overflow out.

“I’m so sorry Hoseok. This is my fault.” And he’s a dancer too…oh my God, he’s a dancer….his limbs…

Your tears quickly turn into hysterical sobs, thinking too many things at once. Your greatest prayer is that he wakes up and he is completely healed. You start hyperventilating so you sit down and take deep breaths.

Although you were instructed not to touch him, you couldn’t resist to at least clutch to the hospital blankets next to his right hand, your knuckles touching each other’s.

“Please wake up, Hoseok. I’ll never have you do anything else for me. I’m sorry if I ever took advantage of you. Please know that I never once took you for granted. You are my dearest friend and I don’t want anyone else for a best friend. I promise to hug you more. I promise to cook for you. I’ll do it at your house. You don’t have to come to mine. I’ll clean up my mess after too. I’m here for you, I promise. I really am. I’m not leaving you, I swear to God. Please just wake up and be ok. You’re gonna be ok. I promise.” You turn to look to the hospital window to make sure no one sees you. You grab his right hand and lean down to kiss it, “Please wake up.”

Your phone in your pocket vibrates and you take it out.

The board members meeting is tomorrow at 8am. Please gather the data and reports from the teams ready by 6am. I will look over it before the meeting.

“Fuck you. No. Not now.” You grit your teeth and put the phone back in the pocket.

Your tears are both sad and angry now, but you know you need to calm down. Nothing drastic.

You take a couple deep breaths before you wipe your tears and take your phone out again to write an email. You look up as you think for a moment. Make that three.

Next chapter

Boundary (Ethan x MC x Tobias?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Elle Valentine) x (hints of) Tobias Carrick

Description: Tobias and Elle get to know each other while working on a case. Tobias pushes some boundaries.

Warnings: A few curse words, underlying health problems. Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: Something a bit different, but I very much enjoyed writing this. There’s no overt Tobias x MC, so this is hopefully something Ethan stans can enjoy reading too. If PB won’t give me what I want, I guess write it myself lol 

*********

It’s early Fall, yet despite this fact and the hospital’s ‘Bloom-and-improved’ ventilation systems, the diagnostics office feels uncomfortably hot. Elle feels a prickling heat across her back, one that she has become accustomed to of late. The façade she’s wearing is beginning to feel like an actual mask, all clinical-scented and restrictive and artificial.

And yet, this is not a mask she’s wearing on a crowded, sweltering T carriage. Her discomfort is unwarranted; there are, after all, only three of them in the room.

Oblivious, Ethan and Harper continue their conversation. She’s tuned out long ago, but she catches the premise- something that Dr Yannick once said at a conference in New York several years ago.

If she really tried, Elle knows she could search for a moment to join in the discussion. But if she’s being honest with herself, she’s tired of searching for sidegates to enter their house of conversation, instead of ever being invited through the front door.

She tries her hardest to appear relaxed, unbothered, indifferent. But her uneasiness spills into her mannerisms, like water through a cracked pot. Manicured nails drum erratically on the top of her thigh. Her top teeth tug, over and over again, at her lips. The apex of her stiletto heel taps the diagnostic office floor like a furious knife.

She likes and respects Harper very much, and her feelings for Ethan, both as a diagnostician and as her romantic partner are unfathomable. But as juvenile as it sounds, she’s so tired of being shut out.

A whooshing of the sliding doors breaks her out of her reverie, and she and the two other occupants of the room look up. Tobias Carrick strides in, all beams and bravado.

Her own notion takes her by surprise, but somehow, she thinks, his arrival is the breath of fresh air she so desperately needs.

“Goooood morning team!” he chimes brightly. Once again, his arms are laden with a trayful of drinks.

“Morning,” Elle offers him a warm smile, Harper echoing her words.

Ethan nods towards the drinks.

“Another round on you?”

“Sure is, but this isn’t just any old round, Ethan,” Tobias replies. “Now I’ve spent a week on the team, I take great pride in this being the first drinks order that’s just right, for all of you.”

Ethan quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Tobias grins, and plucks the first drink off the tray.

“Harper,” he presents her with an extravagant looking drink. “Chocolate frappucino. Double the sugar, double the caffeine. The Friday OR schedule is always jam packed, so I reckon you’ll need it.”

“You got that right, I’ve got two laminectomies today,” she sighs, although the passion for her job shines through her eyes. She takes a sip from her drink. “No complaints from me!”

“Excellent,” Tobias grins. “Ethan- a Vienna for you. Classic, refined, and,” he winks, “only a little pretentious.”

Ethan accepts the drink with a roll of his eyes, as Tobias moves around the desk to Elle.

“And now, for you Elle,” he hands her the third cup. “I must admit, for you I went out on a whim. I just hope my guess is a lucky one.”

Curiosity piqued, Elle presses the rim to her lips. She is aware of the eyes of both Tobias and Ethan following her action with interest. Mild, pleasant citrus swims onto her palate.

“Lemon balm?” she asks Tobias. He nods. “You going to elaborate?”

He shrugs.

“Well, I’ve noticed that I’ve never seen you with a coffee before 4pm, so I figured you like to limit caffeine earlier in the day. And I’ve seen you make up a couple of herbal teas before. I took a gamble and figured you’d like this one.”

“Impressive guess, Carrick,” Elle nods, amused. She takes a sip. “It’s good, thank you.”

“Those are some very…astute observations” says Ethan stiffly, as Tobias takes a seat beside Elle. “Maybe you can put your perceptiveness to better use for our next case.”

He slides three manila envelopes across the table, and the team begin to peruse.

“Jake Adams. 17-year-old male admitted last night, with multiple cardiac arrests,” Ethan begins. “He collapsed at school, was unresponsive, no signs of life, but luckily a fellow student was able to perform high-quality CPR until the paramedics arrived. Heart rhythm on their defibrillator was ventricular fibrillation, he was shocked, back to normal sinus rhythm. Between the scene, being loaded onto the stretcher, in the ambulance and arriving here, he arrested and was shocked again 5 more times.”

“Jesus, poor boy,” murmurs Elle, a crease forming between her brows.

“Cardiology have asked us if we can determine the cause of the arrest, which will of course determine the treatment,” Ethan explains.

“This case only came in last night and since he’s now on life support, we’re able to bypass Bloom’s absurd judicial performance and get straight into it,” Harper adds. “Actually, Ethan and I discussed it at length before you both arrived, and we have some solid ideas.”

Elle looks up from the file, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“So I’m thinking Long QT syndrome, or maybe Brugada,” says Harper.

“They would definitely explain the spontaneous cardiac arrest,” Ethan adds, “Harper and I have ordered genetic testing for both on immediate family members already.”

“Any family history of sudden cardiac death?” Tobias asks.

“Not that we know of,” says Ethan. “But that wouldn’t rule it out.”

Elle frowns slightly as she browses the file. The tests ordered so far are scant, and in her mind, there are several pieces of the diagnostic puzzle missing. But this didn’t seem to stop Harper and Ethan steamrollering ahead, and seemingly settling on a diagnosis before the case had even been presented.

“Does Jake have a-”

“Do you remember that patient with Brugada syndrome who came in for a study a few years ago, Ethan?” Harper turns to Ethan suddenly.

“Ah yes, Paul?” Ethan chuckles, “he was quite a character.”

As Harper and Ethan drift off once again, Elle glances up to see Tobias looking at her quizzically. She lets out a heavy sigh.

Tobias clears his throat.

“Hate to interrupt your…uh…stroll down memory lane,” he begins. “But Elle was about to ask a question about the case, and you both spoke over her.”

The three other diagnosticians turn to Tobias, and a tense silence hangs in the air. After a beat, Harper speaks up.

“I’m sorry Elle,” she says, sincerely. “That was out of line, please continue.”

Tobias turns to Ethan expectantly, who meets Elle’s eye.

Something flickers across his face for a moment, a mixture of shame, guilt, embarrassment, perhaps? It’s a look that Elle can’t quite place. Then, his eyes skim to Tobias and he coughs awkwardly.

“Yes…thank you Tobias. We did speak over you, Elle, I apologise. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if he had a 15-Lead ECG.”

“Not yet,” Harper replies.

“Then until he has one, I don’t think you can consider Brugada syndrome,” says Elle. “We’d need to do an ajmaline challenge too. I can see from the echocardiogram reports in here that he has a structurally normal heart, so we can definitely exclude congenital heart disease as the cause. But for me personally,” she gestures to the file, “there’s a lot missing in here. About what actually happened.”

“How do you mean?” Ethan asks.

“About the context of the cardiac arrest. All we know is that he was at school, but what was he doing? Was he doing anything strenuous, did it happen at rest? There’s a lot more I’d like to know.”

The rest of the team nod thoughtfully.

“I agree…if it happened during exertion, there’s a few other things we could rule out,” says Tobias.

“Exactly,” says Elle. “I think we should consider catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia.”

“You’re thinking CPVT?” asks Ethan, interested. “It’s a possibility.”

“Yes, and it’s one I’d like to investigate more by visiting the school, and finding out more about what happened” says Elle.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Harper responds, twirling her fountain pen between her fingers. “But unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you on your expedition. Like Tobias said, I’ve got a full day in the OR.”

The rest of the team turn to Ethan, who hesitates.

“I…have a meeting with Naveen and the board until lunch,” he says. “Which-”

“-means it’s just you and me, Valentine!” exclaims Tobias, clapping his hands together. “Oh boy, I’ve been looking forward to my first house call with the diagnostics team. We’re going to be on some scooby doo shit, Elle!”

“I beg your pardon?” says Ethan, scowling. Elle can’t help but burst out laughing.

“That settles it then, me and Elle will go to the school,” says Tobias, standing up from his chair. At the same time, Harper gets a page that her surgery is starting and bids them a hurried farewell.

“I was going to say, which means the three of us can go this afternoon once I’m finished,” Ethan says stiffly, as Harper heads out. Tobias shoots him a bemused look.

“I’d rather not wait,” says Elle flatly.

Ethan has wasted enough time in their meetings by bringing up pointless anecdotes with Harper, and she’s very keen to revert her focus to the patients, to diagnostics- the things she loves.

“Me and Valentine will be just fine, E. After all, I’m sure what happened with Jake is still pretty raw to the kids and staff, we’ll need to handle it delicately. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, right?” Tobias flashes Elle a smile.

The same look as before flashes across Ethan’s face, although this time, Elle thinks, it has less of the awkwardness and embarrassment and more of the…something else. His bright blue eyes seem to narrow a fraction, as he looks between Tobias and the woman of his affections.

“Alright,” he sighs finally. “We’ll reconvene when you’re back.”

“Let’s get this show on the road!” says Tobias happily. “To the mystery machine!”

He crosses the room to retrieve his car keys from his bag, while Ethan turns to Elle, and this time, the look of concern is undeniable.

“If you need anything,” he closes some of the distance between them and lowers his voice just a little, “just call me.”

“I think we can handle it,” says Elle, not unkindly. “Enjoy your meeting. And tell Naveen I said hello.”

And with that, she and Tobias leave the office.

********

A short while later, Elle and Tobias are riding in his blue Mercedes S-Class on the way to Jake’s school, a short drive away in South Quincy.

“Not exactly the mystery machine, huh?” says Elle, glancing around at the plush interior.

Tobias shrugs.

“The same colour, at least.”

Boston blurs by as Tobias pulls into a main road, and Elle turns to look at him. His side profile is unmistakably handsome. He drives one handed, the other resting on his thigh.

“So, how’s June?”

He gives a wry half smile, and glances at her.

“Is that your way of asking if we’re still sleeping together?”

“No!” says Elle, honestly. “I’m just wondering how she’s fitting in at Mass Ken. I mean, she left Edenbrook when she thought the ship was going to sink. I got the impression she was pretty keen to be working on your team, now I can’t help but think now you’ve come here, Aurora too…don’t you think she’s been left kinda high and dry?”

“In all honesty, I haven’t seen her for a while, and don’t expect to again anytime soon,” Tobias admits. “But trust me, Hirata will be just fine. She’s head of the team there now.”

Elle raises her eyebrows, impressed.

“I’d say she moves fast, but actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“She was pissed as hell when I said I was leaving, don’t get me wrong,” says Tobias. “But she’s the strongest diagnostician on that team, and the strongest player too.”

“Player?”

“She knows how to play the game. She’ll have no trouble asserting herself as the new leader, running the show the way she wants to.”

Elle thinks back to her time working with June. The way she changed her personality to gain patients’ trust…and Elle’s. Distant anger simmers at the back of her mind, as she remembers how June stole her employee file.

“I agree…office politics was always child’s play for June.”

“Speaking of,” says Tobias as they stop at a red light. He turns to look at her. “The meeting this morning seemed very…uh…political.”

Elle pauses as feels the uncomfortable tingling rise in her chest. She could ask “what are you talking about?”, but she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And there’s something about Carrick that makes her want to cut the crap, to be upfront. So she is.

“You mean Harper and Ethan…”

“Yeah, that. Whatever the hell that was.”

Elle is silent.

“Does that…happen a lot?”

“More often than I’d like.”

“Well, good job I’m here then,” he grins.

Elle’s head whips around.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t appreciate the out.”

She rounds on him.

“Ok, let’s make one thing clear, I don’t need you to fight my battles” says Elle angrily. “Since Harper joined, every time the two of them have gone off track, I’ve steered them back on. I’m here for the patient, to solve the case, and nothing is going to detract my focus from that. That’s the way it’s going to stay, with or without your “outs”, Tobias.”

Tobias chuckles.

“You’re feisty Elle, I like it.” His eyes sweep over her from head to toe, which makes Elle feel more angry, but also, inexplicably, makes her stomach flutter a little.

“What I mean is,” Tobias speaks more seriously; sensing her anger, but mercifully oblivious to the other sensation, “I hope you know you’ve got someone else in your corner Elle. I know how much you care about your patients, and I know Bloom’s going to make life for the team difficult, and try and undermine our every move. That’s not helped when it feels like you’re not listened to by the actual people in it. You’re an excellent doctor Elle, and I value your input. The others should too.”

Elle is dumbstruck. She still doesn’t know what to make of Tobias Carrick; she had picked up pieces and hints from the scattered stories she’d heard from Ethan, most recently in their walk through the rose garden. But while considering the perspective and feelings of the man she so deeply cares for, she acknowledges it is biased. Elle knows that she has good reason to be wary of Tobias; it was not just Ethan he had toyed with, after all- Aurora had been burned by him too.

But, Tobias had helped to save her life. And the genuine smile that he gave her through the contamination screens of that cursed room, on the worst day of her life, had always stayed with her.

So, with a pinch of salt ready between her fingers, Elle decided from the moment he joined the team, that she would form her own opinion of him.

It occurs to her then, just how much Ethan sees the world in black and white. But Tobias Carrick is very much a shade of grey.

Before she can respond to him, the GPS on Tobias’ dash declares that they are arriving at their destination, and sure enough, Elle sees the school up ahead on the right.

“Here we are,” murmurs Tobias as he pulls in through the school gates. “Looks like we’re expected.”

They park up and head over to the school steps, surrounded by blossom trees, where a middle aged woman offers them a watery smile and extends a hand.

“Ah, hello…the doctors from Edenbrook, I presume?” she asks. “I’m Helena Brady, the principal of Greenview High.”

“Yes, we spoke earlier on the phone,” says Elle. “I’m Dr Eleanor Valentine, and this is Dr Tobias Carrick. We’re here to speak to the people that were with Jake when he collapsed?”

“I’m afraid it’s just the one person,” says Helena gravely, leading them through the school. “His friend Charlie was the only one who saw it, and then ran for help. How is Jake doing?”

“He’s still in a coma, but stable,” says Tobias. “The most important thing for us to help him, is find out from Charlie some more about the collapse, and go from there.”

Helena nods, as they come to a stop outside a small office.

“We’ve all been praying for him, it’s so tragically sad…nothing like this has ever happened to a student before,” she sniffs stoically. “Thank you for your work doctors, but please, be gentle with the boy. He’s still very shaken.”

Elle smiles at her reassuringly.

“We will be, don’t worry.”

As Tobias and Elle knock and enter the room, the boy springs to his feet, eyes wild.

“You’re the doctors…how’s Jake, is he-oh god is he-is he dead?” he cries.

“No, Jake is ok. He’s been through a lot, but he’s recovering,” says Elle gently. Charlie sinks back into his chair, though his knees are still quaking.

“It’s Charlie right?” Tobias asks, pulling up a chair. “I’m Tobias and this is Elle. We’re Jake’s doctors. Do you know why we’re here today?”

“Y-yes, that’s me,” Charlie sniffs. “Principal Brady said you were here to talk to me about Jake…I was so scared, I thought, I thought that meant he had died.”

Elle kneels in front of him, laying a gentle hand on his knee.

“I’m really sorry that us coming made you think that, Charlie,” she says. “It must have been really tough watching Jake collapse like that, I’m not surprised you’re thinking the worst. But we think we can help Jake get better, we just need your help.”

Some of the tension seems to leave Charlie’s body upon hearing this; his shudders subside. He pulls anxiously at the strings of his hoodie, unruly teenage bangs falling over his forehead.

“So, Charlie,” Tobias asks as Elle pulls up a chair beside him, “do you think you could tell us a bit more about what Jake was doing when you saw him collapse? Had he been running, exercising, working out?”

“No,” Charlie says quietly. “He wasn’t doing anything like that.”

“That’s really helpful Charlie, thank you,” says Elle. “Can you tell us if he standing up or sitting down? Did he lose his balance or seem dizzy? Did he complain of feeling ill, or funny in any sort of way before it happened?”

Charlie stiffens.

“No. He was-we were-we were arguing.”

Tobias and Elle exchange a quick look.

“Is Jake your friend, Charlie?” Tobias asks.

“No! No he’s not, and I’m so sick of pretending he is!” Charlie shouts. “Jake’s my boyfriend!” Tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry,” says Elle. “You said you were pretending…does anyone else know that?”

Charlie shakes his head.

“No. That’s what we were arguing about,” he accepts a tissue that Elle offers, blowing his nose.

“Take your time, Charlie,” says Tobias, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “It’s ok.”

After a few deep breaths, Charlie steels himself.

“We’ve been dating for three years, kind of in secret, kind of not,” he explains. “My parents know I’m gay, and they’re fine with it. They’ve met Jake before and they love him, they know we’re together. But he’s not even out to his parents, they just think we’re friends.”

He sniffs.

“Now we’re in senior year, we’re both looking at colleges, and we want to go to different ones. We’d be living five hours apart. I don’t know if we can make the long-distance work, especially if his parents don’t know about us. In the times we’d both be back home, they wouldn’t understand why he’d want to spend a lot of that time with me. But the one thing I just really, really wanted, was for us to go to senior prom together. As a couple, you know? To just dress up together, get photos together, dance together, one last time before we leave.”

“And Jake…wasn’t on board with that?” asks Elle.

“He was,” says Charlie. “He said he really wanted to. He just…wasn’t on board with the part of that which meant he’d have to come out to his parents.”

“I see,” says Tobias.

Charlie’s eyes begin to fill with tears again.

“I was saying, before he collapsed, that he didn’t love me,” he cries. “That he must not love me if he’s not prepared to come out. He was getting so upset, begging me, telling me of course he loved me, he was just scared, and then-” he sobs. “Then he was on the floor.”

Elle kneels beside him again, taking both his hands in her own.

“I’ve been googling stuff that could have caused it,” Charlie sniffles. “I saw there’s this condition, some long one beginning with, a C, I think, that means people’s hearts can give out when they’re stressed.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow, somewhat impressed at the boy’s diagnostic skills.

“What if-what if I could’ve killed him, because of the argument? And I told him he must not love me, I didn’t even mean it, I know how hard it is to come out, I didn’t mean to-” he buries his head in his hands.

“Charlie- Charlie listen to me,” says Elle. “It’s true, that we think Jake might have a condition called CPVT. It means that certain situations, like exercise, or stress, can cause the heart to go into an abnormal rhythm. But that does not mean, whatsoever, that any of this is your fault. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment, when we’re angry. If Jake does have this condition, and we’ll have to run a couple more tests to know that for sure, then it means that we can treat it, and stop it from happening again. It could have happened to him at anytime, anywhere, but he was lucky enough to be with you. You’ve helped him have a lucky escape.”

“R-really?” asks Charlie.

“Really,” says Tobias, who is on his feet. He lays a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.  “Your principal was telling us earlier that you did CPR on Jake while you got others to run for help?”

“Yes,” Charlie mutters, looking up at Tobias.

“Well Charlie, I think you saved his life.”

Charlie’s eyes gleam with hope.

“What are you applying for at college?” Tobias asks.

“Um..cardiac nursing,” he says.

“Very fitting. You’ll always be welcome at Edenbrook for some work experience.” Tobias smiles, genuinely. It’s the same smile Elle remembers from after the attack.

“Do you think, then, that he’ll be ok?” Charlie asks tentatively.

“Yes, I do,” smiles Elle. “And I think that you and Jake will be ok too.”

****************

Some time later, Elle steps out of the school. After speaking at length with the school counsellor, she had made sure that Charlie had some extensive therapy sessions in place. Tobias is waiting for her at the foot of the steps, beneath the blossom trees, and she is surprised to see he has a cigarette in hand.

“You smoke?” she raises an eyebrow at him as she approaches. “I thought you’d know better, Tobias.”

He takes a drag.

“Vices, Valentine,” he quips. “We all have them.”

Elle vaguely remembers Ethan had once said the same thing about butter.

“Carcinogens, though. Really?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I’m dirty, what can I say?”

He dutifully puts out the cigarette, as Elle gives him a reproachful look, and turns to her.

“You were good in there, with him,” says Tobias.

“Thanks…so were you.”

“We make a good team,” he smiles, and his expression softens a little. “That was kinda heavy though. You bearing up ok?” he asks.

Elle nods.

“I’m fine. I just hope Charlie will be ok, I really want to make sure he starts therapy as soon as possible.  I know how much of a difference it made for me, after the attack.”

She trails off, and Tobias seems to sense the darkness clouding over her eyes. The mild September breeze sifts through the blossom trees above them with a gentle sigh.

“I don’t think I ever actually said this to you,” says Elle quietly, “but thank you. For helping to save me and Raf, that day.”

“No thanks needed,” he responds. “I wanted to do everything I could to help.”

He pauses only briefly before continuing.

“You know, out of everything that happened that day, all the work we did in the lab trying to find an antidote…the one thing I remember most is how Ethan was in that room. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like that before. About anyone, or anything.”

A sudden chill trickles down her neck, goosebumps erupt on her forearms; a million tiny foothills.

Since their conversation in the car after Danny and Bobby’s funeral, Ethan had never really spoken in depth about his own feelings during the attack. Sometimes, in early hours when they laid in bed together, with the rain hammering against his window, she would mention it.

And every time, she would see his eyes darken with so many unsaid words. He would fix his gaze desperately on her like she was evaporating steam, set to vanish from existence in a matter of moments. His hold on her waist would tighten, fingertips tracing her soft skin as if to remind himself she wasn’t a ghost.

There had been whispers in his bed in the stillness of the night, when they were both half asleep. He had uttered sleepy confessions and declarations to her; some so heartfelt and moving, she still questioned whether they were real or if she had dreamt them.

More often straight after the attack, but still now sometimes, she would wake in his arms to find him already looking at her, his eyes filled with wonder, pain, and something else that she was starting to place.

‘Why are you awake?’ she would gently murmur.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I-had a nightmare.’

She would press herself closer to his chest, feel his strong arms encircling her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘I’m here, Ethan.’

‘I know. I’m…so glad you are.’

She is jolted to the present with Tobias’ voice.

“Even if he didn’t show it this morning…Ethan’s got it bad for you, you know.”

Elle cranes her neck to look up at him- at the man who shares so much history with Ethan. He’s almost as tall as her lover, but slightly less built, shoulders not quite as broad. Alike in many ways, but different in so many others.

“Why are you here, Tobias?” she asks, without breaking eye contact. “You had it all at Mass Kenmore. You’re an excellent diagnostician, you could have gone anywhere. Why, of all people, would you want to come and work for Ethan, someone you have such a complicated past with?”

Tobias’ hazel eyes, a contrast to Ethan’s azure blue’s, look into hers deeply. She knows that there’s something hiding beneath their golden depths; either earnestness, an ulterior motive, or perhaps something more complicated- a mixture of both.

He takes a step towards her, raising his hand towards her face. Her breath hitches, then climaxes in a soft exhale, when he simply removes a lone blossom petal that has settled on the lapel of her white coat. She wonders what exactly she had been expecting him to do.

Tobias twists his tongue between his teeth, a half-smile playing on his lips. Once again, his eyes roam over her from head to toe. This close, Elle can smell his cologne. It’s good; notes of leather and pine and exotism drift to her olfactory nerve. It’s a contrast to her favourite aftershave of Ethan’s, which smelled like bergamot, cedar, and home.

Tobias drops the petal to the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m here Elle,” he murmurs, “because I want to push boundaries.”

********************

Ethan leans against his desk, fingertips drumming impatiently. His meeting had been finished for a while now, but he was still waiting for Elle and Tobias to return.

His old rival’s keenness to go on an outreach call with Elle had stirred something within him. Something in his head had switched on. A distant alarm bell that had been silent for some time, had started to ring.

Lost in thought, he mulls over the events of the morning.

He’d done it again.

He, and Harper, had spoken over Elle when she was trying to talk about the patient. Not only that, he recognises now, but before Tobias had entered the room, the two of them had been reminiscing about something that didn’t involve Elle in the slightest.

He doesn’t know why he keeps slipping up. He harbours no romantic feelings for Harper whatsoever, but he’s been enjoying the chance to work more closely with her, the friendly conversations, to share stories and experiences.

But they haven’t just been work related, he thinks. Did I really need to bring up the flamenco lessons? Or Gaston’s? He recalls the look on her face when he’d told Elle he planned to take her there because of its intimacy, immediately after discussing it with Harper. Before Elle’s forced smile and her gracious reply of “I’d like that,” he’d always thought he had caught a flicker of dismay, of hurt, on her features.

Now he’s certain it was more than a flicker.

I don’t deserve her, he thought.

With a swoosh, the doors of the diagnostics office open. He sees the familiar head of immaculately coiffed blonde locks, and as his eyes travel down to Elle’s beautiful face, his heart soars, and he can’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Elle!” he says happily, pushing himself up of the desk.

I missed you, he foolishly finds himself wanting to say, despite the fact that like most days at work, it’s only been a few hours since he’s seen her. But as his eyes travel to Tobias following her in, he keeps the admission to himself.

“We have an answer,” says Elle triumphantly. “We’ve listed Jake for an ICD insertion tomorrow morning.”

“It was CPVT?” Ethan asks.

“Yep,” says Tobias. “Elle’s hunch was right. Turns out it was an argument with his boyfriend that brought on the cardiac arrest. We ran a test for CPVT as soon as we got back, while you were still in the meeting, and it’s positive.”

Elle smiles brightly.

“Jake’s going to be okay.”

Ethan beams. He’s exceptionally proud of her.

“Excellent work Elle,” he leans forward to squeeze her arm, as bold a gesture as he dares while they have company. “And thanks Tobias, for helping out.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” says Tobias. He looks pointedly at Elle, then adds, “believe me.”

An unpleasant sensation coils in the pit of Ethan’s stomach. He tries to push it down.

As Tobias crosses the room to take a phone call, he steps closer to Elle, lowering his voice.

“Listen Elle, about earlier. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, tentatively taking her hand in his own. He caresses her tiny fingers with his thumb. “It’s unacceptable for me to talk over you in meetings, and I…know that this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and that there are, uh, other things. I’m sorry if my actions have ever made you feel excluded.”

Elle’s bright green eyes look into his thoughtfully, though she says nothing; silently willing him to continue.

“I’d like to make it up to you. I think a date night between us is long overdue. Can I take you for dinner tonight?” he asks. A flash of hope, along with the tinge of dismay he remembers from before, travels across her face. “Not Gaston’s,” he adds quickly. “I want to find somewhere new with you. For us.”

Her face floods with warmth, eyes gazing into his searchingly. He desperately scans her beautiful face, seeking some inkling of her true feelings; the ones he knows she’s bottling up.

“You’re right, it is long overdue,” she says finally, her gaze steady. “And I’d really like that, to find somewhere new to go to dinner with you. But I can’t do tonight.”

His heart sinks a little, and as if sensing this, like she always seems to, she squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“I’m out for drinks with Si, Aurora and Jackie tonight. But we’ll go soon.”

She offers him a soft smile, which he returns.

It doesn’t quite quell the slight but unmistakable feeling of anxiety in his stomach. It’s guilt, it’s the gnawing thought that he will never be good enough for her, the idea that he’s taken her for granted.

Worst of all, there is the completely irrational, but terrible notion that he could lose her.

And somehow, the thought that he could lose her in living rather than in death, as he had once feared, is almost more terrible.

She gently lets go of his hand. On the other side of the room, Tobias hangs up the phone.

“I’m going to go and speak to Jake’s parents,” says Elle, slipping off and readjusting her white coat.

Ethan’s eyes travel over her form-fitting pencil skirt, clinging to her delicate body in all the right places.

He doesn’t miss the way Tobias’ do the same. Then, as if knowing he’s being watched, he looks up at Ethan. His eyes narrow, and the corners of his lips twitch.

Ethan wants nothing more than to sock him in the jaw.

“We’ll check in later, once Harper’s finished surgery?” she asks, breaking the two men out of their reverie.

Ethan nods, and Elle bids them goodbye. The click of her heels on the linoleum echoes into the tense silence. Then, he can’t hold it in any longer.

“Could you be,” Ethan begins through gritted teeth, “a little more fucking subtle, Carrick?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I can’t help it, Ethan, and clearly neither can you. A woman like that, body like that…we’re just as powerless as any other red-blooded male.”

Ethan curls his fists in the pockets of his coat.

“Don’t talk about Elle like that. I won’t have you disrespecting her in that way,” he spits, taking a step towards him.

“You want to talk about disrespecting her?” counters Tobias, unflinching. “Because I think taking a stroll down memory lane with your ex, every five minutes, is pretty disrespectful to the woman you’re currently fucking.”

Ethan is stunned. Had she told Tobias that it had happened before? Did she tell him they were seeing eachother, or had Tobias clocked it himself? What exactly had they talked about while they were away?

“Elle is- she’s off limits,” he snaps, the only response his seething mind is able to come up with.

Tobias smiles, satisfied at seeing the other man riled up. Then, infuriatingly, he turns away.

“Who decided that, Ethan?” he says quietly over his shoulder “Her or you?”

And with that, Tobias turns and leaves.

*******

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading this far! I wanted to explore the dynamic between Elle and Tobias, and the way I wrote him in this fic reflects my own thoughts about him; I think he’s a good guy, as demonstrated by him helping to save her life and his thoughtfulness, but I’m definitely suspicious of his ulterior motives and his past actions. I also wanted the sexual tension between Ethan, Elle and Tobias, and was hoping that PB would make Tobias call out Ethan shutting her out of meetings. They didn’t deliver so I did it myself lol Also wanted Ethan to start feeling insecure about the way he’s been treating Elle since his behaviour has been trash thanks to the OOC writing, but I still love him

Fighting Fire with Froyo

oh my goodness hello friends plz dont roast my title bc @verryberriess already has LOL it is ✨quirky✨ anyways the first fic back is always rough to write and i got tired of editing so without further ado ... 

Nesta pried the uniform hat off her head and wiped the dripping sweat from her brow. By the cauldron, it was burning up today. It amazed her that the frozen yogurt wasn’t melting right out of the machines. That probably wasn’t even possible, but the heat was making her delirious. Of course on the hottest day of the year something was wrong with the AC. She added calling the maintenance guy to her 5-page long mental list of things to do after her shift today. 

She truly did not have the time to be working on the service line today. The Archeron sister froyo shop had opened almost a year ago and already she was talking to people about expanding it to become a chain. That’s what she should be working on instead.

Nesta supposed she should be happy their little shop was so popular. The sisters had been so nervous when they were finally able to launch their yogurt shop after years of planning. It was a dream come true. 

They named it Archeron Delights and it became one of the most popular dessert places in Velaris. Elain was the mastermind behind the frozen yogurt recipes. People came from all over the country to try their unique flavor combinations. Feyre was in charge of all the interior designing. She remodeled the entire space and made it look modern with colorful signs and trendy photo taking spots - a necessity for kids obsessed with instagram worthy pictures. Nesta was the official manager which meant she dealt with finances, hiring the team, making schedules, and other administrative duties. 

To be honest, Nesta never really worked at the counter, but Morrigan their newest hire, and Feyre’s best friend was sick with the flu. Definitely not a good idea to put her near customers. To make matters worse, the shop had been extremely busy today so she didn’t have time to take any breaks. Unlike her sisters, Nesta was already not the cheeriest service worker. It’s why she worked in the back in her quiet, private office. 

At least she could distract herself by filling out their monthly budget summary while waiting. However, her calculations were soon interrupted by the cheerful bell dinging, meaning the shop door was being opened. Damn another customer. 

Nesta began quickly finishing up the section she was on, “Hi I’ll be with you in one -”

“You need to get out of here,” the customer interrupted. 

Nesta’s smile dropped so fast. Who did this man think he was?

“No, you need to get out,” she snapped back without looking up from her papers. If he was gonna speak to her like that she was gonna take her sweet time. 

“Excuse me I -”

This time Nesta interrupted. “This is my shop and I say you need to leave.”

“Ma’am if you would let me explain -”

“Stop calling me ma'am, you have no right -” This time it was Nesta who trailed off.

She finally looked up to see a man equipped fully in firefighter gear staring right at her. Shit. She just yelled at a fireman. To make matters worse he was handsome. Extremely handsome. 

“There’s a small fire in another location 2 units from yours. We’re containing it, but you still need to evacuate,” the man explained.  

Nesta was still gaping. It seemed she was unable to form words. How was this man so attractive? He was wearing full protective fire gear and wasn’t even breaking a sweat and here she was, literally dripping. 

To be quite honest she couldn’t tell if she was sweating because of the heat or the fireman’s burning gaze. 

“Ma’am can you hear me? Ma’am? Oh for goodness sake.”

Before Nesta knew it she was being lifted off her feet. Literally. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she exclaimed in surprise. 

“Ah so you can still talk.” 

“Put me down you oaf.”

“Oaf?” he raised a brow, “That’s a real nice way to thank the person saving your ass.”

“I’m serious,” she said crossing her arms angrily. 

“Let’s get to safety first.”

Nesta gave the man a withering glare, but he continued to carry her bridal style to a tent where it seemed other shop owners were gathering. 

“Oh my goodness Nesta are you hurt?” Aelin asked as they approached.

Aelin owned a dress boutique in the same plaza and they often grabbed lunch together. She was Nesta’s best friend. 

“No I am being harassed,” she deadpanned. 

“She means saved,” the firefighter corrected as he finally set her down. 

“Woah he’s hot,” Aelin whispered in her ear. 

“Shut up or I’m telling Rowan.”

“Just an observation” Aelin laughed. 

The man gave them a polite smile before heading back towards the rest of the firemen. 

Nesta stopped him before he got too far. “I want to talk to your boss,” she said sternly. 

“You mean the captain?” he asked. 

“Yes.” Obviously. 

“Why do you need the captain ma'am?”

“Stop with the ma’am, I’m serious.”

“Ok fine. What’s your name?” 

Nesta stayed silent. 

“Ok then, sweetheart. Why do you need the captain?”

Nesta growled at his stupidity. “I am not your sweetheart and I am reporting you for inappropriate behavior.”

Something like amusement crossed his face, but it quickly vanished, “I see. I’ll be right back then.”

For someone about to lose his job he did not seem the least bit frightened. 

***

It was only a few minutes before the man returned. He was still wearing his fire pants or whatever they were called, but the protective jacket was gone. Now he wore a tight shirt that read Velaris Fire Dept. It framed his muscles a little too perfectly for her taste. How was this man real?

“The captain is busy at the moment but I will take your complaint and hand it to him myself,” he said, pulling out a pen and paper.

“How do I know you’re not going to rip it up as soon as I leave?”

“You can watch me hand it to him once we have this mess sorted out,” he assured her. 

“Fine.”

“First I will need your name.”

“Nesta Archeron” she grit out.

“Nesta. I like how that sounds.”

She rolled her eyes. This man was absolutely insufferable. 

“Ok, now your phone number.”

“Why do you need my phone number?” 

“So the captain can contact you about this issue, of course.”

She grabbed the paper from his massive hands and scribbled her number down quickly.

“Ok and what are you complaining about?” he asked, clearly amused.

She rolled her eyes, “You already know what I’m complaining about.”

“Well, I need to write it down word for word,” he said, laughing softly.  

His laughter was the last straw. “You know what this is ridiculous I’m going to find the captain myself,” she said, stomping off. 

“That’s gonna be hard to do sweetheart,” he called after her. 

“Oh yea, why?” she yelled back over her shoulder.

“Because I am the captain.”

That stopped Nesta dead in her tracks. She turned slowly to see the big oaf smiling. 

“Cassian Nazari, Captain of Station 17,” he said, extending his hand.

“Are you playing a game or something?” she scowled, slapping his hand away.  

“No,” he chuckled softly, “Just doing my job.” 

“By pretending to not be the captain and stealing my information?”

He smiled again and half of her wanted to slap him, but the other half was tempted to kiss him. What was wrong with her?

“I take complaints seriously. So seriously, that I would like to hear all about your complaint over dinner.”

“This is not funny,” she said crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Don’t tell me you’re not interested. You took one look at me and were absolutely speechless. I literally had to carry you out before you burned to death.”

“The fire was contained, evacuating was a formality you brute.” 

“If you say so,” he said sarcasm lacing every word. “I’ll pick you up from your shop at 6.”

Nesta’s jaw dropped, the audacity of this man was astounding. She paused before answering, debating her options. She figured she could either continue pretending to hate him or just give in. Gods above, was she actually considering this?

“Say yes you idiot” Aelin whispered.

Nesta flinched in surprise. Where the hell did she even come from? 

“Are you kidding I’m not going anywhere in this.” Nesta argued, gesturing to her work apron and leggings. 

“I think it looks great,” Cassian said with a wink. 

“Me too,” Aelin added.

Nesta gave Aelin a deadly look before saying, “Let’s meet at the Sidra at 7. That way I have time to change.”

Cassian only looked surprised at her suggestion for a second before agreeing, “Ok, I’ll see you there.” 

He waved before heading back to the rest of his crew and Nesta against her better judgement waved back. 

“Nesta Archeron, are you smiling?” Aelin teased as soon as Cassian was out of ear shot.

“Shut up. I am absolutely not,” she said, quickly bringing her face back to neutral. 

And then it hit her...

She was going to dinner with Cassian - a fire captain she just met. What the hell was she thinking? 

tags! @illyriangarbage // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy // @girlnovels // @julesherondalex // @ifangirlninja // @dreamerforever-5 // @queen-of-wings-and-fire // @rhysanoodle // @jemma-nessian-and-elriel // @books-and-words-addict  // @nightinshadow // @wolffrising // @the-regal-warrior // @dreamingofalba // @abillionlittlepieces // @alitzeldiaz // @kylizzles // @queenmaas // @illyrian-bookworm // @aspillofstars // @b00kworm // @tswaney17 // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn // // @perseusannabeth // @acourtofmarauders // @sweetlyvillainous // @awesomelena555 // @notyournymphetish // @ladywitchling // @aesthetics-11 // @sjmships // @iammissstark // @illyrianwitchling13 // @moondancer-204 // @sjm-things // @foolsinlovex // @sayosdreams // @welcometothespeaknowworldtour  // @stardelia // @julemmaes // @thewayshedreamed // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @keshavomit // @superspiritfestival // @wannawriteyouabook // @verryberriess // @courtofjurdan // @bookstantrash // @sannelovesreading // @ahappyhistorianreader // @cass-nes // @my-fan-side // @junsuichow // @sleeping-and-books // @yumna402 // @lordof-bloodshed // @emcarstairs578 // @gisellefigue08 // @maybekindasortaace // @starborn-faerie-queen // @empire-of-wildfire // @loveofbooksandwine // @sanakapoor // @silentquartz // @a-omgnaomithings-love // @aimee1602 // @jlinez // @creamcheesechicken // @steamedlattes // @sahsahprova // @elriel4life // @ireallyshouldsleeprnrn // @rowaelinismyotp // @thegoddessofyou​

Dog Days Part 17: Meeting in the Park

((After their night out, Y/N learns that the new day has some special meaning for Chase. Eager to help take his mind off things, they decide to try for another walk.

Another one on the long side, and I expect the next one to be the same way. More about that in the end note.

Warning: mentions of blood.

Links to the previous Part 16: Caught on Camera and to the whole series.))

“The Host notes that someone appears to be in higher spirits now,” he said, although that was a bit of an understatement. You found yourself constantly lagging behind or surging forward, often getting almost half a block ahead of the Host’s steady, slow pace before you remembered you didn’t even know where the two of you were going.

Captain Magnum, displaying very fast reflexes that were a little terrifying from someone of his size, managed to catch you by the scruff of your neck with one hand and the tilting table with the other before you could get yourself kicked out of the restaurant. Still, the move earned you a scowl from the chef while Meri laughed about how friendly the Host’s dog was, causing both the Host and the captain to try and correct her for two very different reasons.

Unfortunately, after that, the conversation changed with Captain Magnum introducing Meri to the rest of the crew. Not long after, the Host quietly suggested that it was time for the two of you to go. You weren’t sure if that was because the captain started “joking” about shanghaiing one or both of you, or because the singing that started about two seconds after the door closed behind you could have been classified as torture in the right context.

Which meant you were left with question after question running through your mind, and no way to ask the Host any of them. How did he know Abe? Where was he? What was he doing now, was he okay? What happened after the party? How did he survive?

Then again, you doubted the Host would know the answer to those last two, but being this close to finding Abe again and not being able to just ask, it was enough to make you try to change back right there outside of the restaurant.

Not that you had any more luck this time than any of the other times you tried.

But now you were working through ideas on where to go from here. If you could get the others to help, it would be so easy—one of Marvin’s spells could find Abe in minutes if not seconds, and as much as Jackie mentioned running into hunters, there was a chance he already knew of him. It’s not like Marvin or Jameson would have recognized the name, as you had never included the hunter in any of your letters to them before the mirror.

After the first time you ran into Abe, you had to write a series of letters to tell them you were okay, especially after the news of a murderous werewolf in the city broke, and the papers were full of rumors that there could be more than one roaming the streets. That is, when they weren’t too busy criticizing the city for letting one in to start with. Never mind all the advertisements for wolfsbane elixirs and silver bullets in those same pages.

You suspected sharing that a hunter had discovered what you were would have ended with Marvin breaking into your home in the dead of night and kidnapping you for a while, for your own safety. Something he had actually threatened to do at the time, and while he might have been joking about that, there was no telling what he would have done to Abe in the name of protecting you.

So how to tell them now?

“This is where the Host must part ways,” the Host said, startling you out of your thoughts. You looked around and realized that he had stopped a few feet back, outside the entrance to the city park. “Dawn will be coming soon, and he would like to get some rest. The Host…appreciated the company tonight and hopes that the meal—”

The Host rocked back on his feet, body tensing when he felt the paws on his shoulders and your face next to his until he realized that this was your attempt at a hug. It was just a chance encounter, a random fluke, but you wished desperately to thank him, to tell him what those few overheard words meant to you.

Instead, you let go and dropped back to the ground, leaving the Host to gather his thoughts before he stammered, “It, uh—Think nothing of it. It was just a meal, nothing more.”

He seemed to place a heavy emphasis on the last sentence, as though trying to reassure himself or someone else of what he was saying. After considering for a moment, he added, “Take care, and keep that collar close. There are many eyes in this city.”

Deciding that was apparently the note he wanted to end the conversation on, the Host turned and started to walk in the park before, as an afterthought, waving goodbye. You could just barely see the gesture before he disappeared down the trail, the crunch of fallen leaves trailing behind him.

Not the most reassuring way to say farewell, and you were suddenly very aware of the chill in the air and the eerie quiet of a city not yet fully awake. Then again, if he was right about dawn coming, there would soon be a lot more people to worry about—and several people back home with questions about where you had been all night.

Ears and nerves on high alert once again, you mainly used your nose to find your way back to the right neighborhood, and from there to the right house. Hoping you had beat the doctor home, you took a second run at the fence, this time managing to clear the top even if the rolling landing on the other side wasn’t exactly graceful. In the safety of the backyard, you slipped your collar off and shook yourself, relieved to finally have that small but somehow barely bearable weight off of your neck. It was a little worrying how tempting it was to bury the thing out here, even when you knew it was keeping you safe.

You pulled open the sliding back door and paused, taking in the dark and silent house. Someone had turned off the light left on for you, but otherwise there was no sign of anyone else up yet as you quietly pulled the door shut behind you and dropped your collar more or less where you found it.

That is, until you heard the sound of someone trying very hard to shut a kitchen cabinet without making a sound, and almost succeeding. There was the muffled clunk of a full glass or bottle on the counter, and the soft shift of weight as someone moved and opened another cabinet. All of it would have been easy to miss for someone without your enhanced hearing, which also caught the key in the lock just before the front door opened.

“Ah, Hündchen, good morning,” Henrik said brightly as he stepped inside and flipped on a light switch, only for his smile to turn to a frown when your gaze snapped back to the kitchen and the muffled swear from inside it. A muffled voice that you recognized, even before you followed the doctor into the kitchen, where he turned on the light to reveal Jackie standing beside a row of bottles on the counter. “…It is a bit early for a drink, is it not, Jackie?”

“Shhh, please keep it down,” Jackie whispered, his eyes darting from the two of you to the direction of the still silent bedrooms. “It’s not what it looks like, okay?”

“It looks as zhough you are gathering all of zhe alcohol in zhe house for some reason,” the doctor said, and you nodded. The three bottles on the counter and the one in Jackie’s hand were all still unopened, which made his nervousness all the stranger. “Do you wish to tell why?”

Jackie sighed, shifting the bottle he held from one hand to the other and back again. “Today’s…it’s an important day for Chase, and one he kind of had issues with last year. You weren’t living with us yet so you wouldn’t know, but it was…rough.”

“Zhese are zhe kind of issues where more or less alcohol would help?” Henrik asked, again eyeing the bottles.

“I thought if he couldn’t find them, it wouldn’t be as tempting to give in to it again,” Jackie muttered. “He’s been doing good lately, and I don’t want him to lose that.”

The doctor considered this and nodded. “Zhen I can keep zhe bottles in my room until zhe temptations are not so strong.”

“Really?” Jackie asked, and Henrik shrugged.

“No one goes in my room during zhe day, and I have places I can hide a few bottles. It vill not stop him from buying more, of course. And being zhere for him and keeping his mind occupied, if zhis day is so difficult, would be much better.”

“I know, I know,” Jackie said softly, sounding so tired that the doctor spared a hand on his shoulder before picking up two of the bottles and motioning for both of you to follow. “Come on, Y/N, ve can do your exam in my room zhis morning.”

Once the bottles were safely stowed away in the back of one of the doctor’s cabinets, behind a personal supply of first aid items, Jackie thanked him again and went to start breakfast for the others. Leaving you alone with the doctor in his room which, unlike the other bedrooms, was noticeably lacking in the window department.

“How are you feeling today, Hündchen?” Henrik asked, once he had you sit on a long, padded bench and pulled up a chair to sit in front of you. “Better zhan yesterday?”

You nodded and smiled, causing the doctor to sniff the air.

“Good, you did eat something. I vas worried, vith zhe bowl in zhe kitchen still full.” He chuckled at your guilty expression and said, “No worries, Jackie is always sneaking takeout when he is out late and thinks we do not know.”

There wasn’t an easy way to correct him, any more than there was an easy way to explain where you had been last night or why you were so tired now, although the doctor just clicked his tongue when you yawned while he was checking your eyes. Generally, not the reaction of someone looking into the open mouth of a werewolf inches away from his face.

“You should get some rest, Y/N. Sleep is good for zhe body and mind, and for zhe recovery, no matter what Marvin and Jackie seem to think.”

You nodded, while privately thinking that sleep would be a little hard. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was wired and racing, even when you stretched out on the couch and closed your eyes. Lying there, you could smell breakfast cooking and hear the others emerge from their rooms and join Jackie in the kitchen, their conversation fading in and out as you dozed, until the click of the front door closing woke you up.

“Yeah, Chase is fine, he just has a lot on his mind I think,” Jackie said, probably in response to something Jameson asked. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Said the guy who was worried enough to hide all of the alcohol.

Why wasn’t Jackie telling the others? Then again, he had also avoided specifics when he talked to you and the doctor earlier, and only said as much as he had to. Whatever was going on with him, Jackie must feel it was personal enough to leave it up to Chase to decide if he wanted to say something.

The conversation continued, but judging by the silences and Marvin responding, Jackie was the only one not talking much. You wondered if he was thinking about how long it took before the front door opened again and Chase stepped inside.

“You good?” Marvin called from inside the kitchen, and you heard Chase stop in the living room and take a breath before he answered.

“Yeah, just realized some of my game footage was corrupted. Sucks, but I’m going to be in my room recording for a while to make up for it, if any of you need me.”

“That’s rough. Let us know when you need a break,” Jackie said. “Jameson’s saying he can bake some cookies later.”

“And we’ll try to keep Jackie from eating them all,” Marvin joked.

Chase’s laugh felt a little forced to your ears, but he retreated to his room and the conversation continued in the kitchen. You soon dozed off again for what just felt like a minute, but when you woke up again the kitchen was silent, the room empty and breakfast cleaned up. A walk down the hall found the others in their rooms, Jameson bent over a stack of papers writing and mouthing words to himself, maybe working on a new act for his show, Marvin crafting some small and slightly worrying dolls for some unknown purpose, and Jackie having fallen asleep on his bed.

Chase’s room, however, was very quiet. Especially since his usual recording sessions seemed to involve a lot of talking and occasionally shouted insults at whatever was going on in his computer screen. You stopped and, after a long enough second to wonder if he was even still in there, heard a sound.

Chase choked back another sob when he heard a noise at his door. Hastily wiping at his eyes and clearing his throat in an effort to sound normal, he said, “Busy, bro!”

The sound came again and he realized it wasn’t a knock but something scratching in the general area of the doorknob. When he stood up and opened the door, it was to find a wolf sitting in the hallway, one paw still raised in an effort to get a hold of the doorknob.

“Y/N?” Chase asked, too aware of how stuffy his own voice sounded. “I, uh, I just…lost a try not to cry challenge, y’know?...Do you know what those are? But I’m fine.”

You tilted your head, and he could read the doubt in your expression.

He sighed and knelt down, lowering his voice in case one of the others might hear. “Thanks for worrying, but I’ll be okay. Today’s just one of those days, you know?”

You stared at him, and he looked back into those silver-clouded eyes and wondered not for the first time what you were thinking. Especially when you turned and walked away, only to come padding back before he could stand and shut the door again.

With your collar and hated leash in your mouth.

“You want to go for a walk?” Chase asked, genuinely surprised when you nodded. “Are you sure? I know yesterday was…”

You nodded again and looked him in the eye without blinking. Chase couldn’t kid himself on why you were suddenly suggesting a walk, even after the last one had gone so badly. And sitting here alone in his room wasn’t doing him any favors.

“Okay, I’m game if you are,” he said, and found himself returning your smile.

He helped you get your collar on and left a note on the kitchen table, but he breathed a little easier when the front door of the house was closed behind both of you without any of the others noticing or asking any questions.

“Just let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?” Chase said as he clipped the leash to your collar. He noticed the shudder that ran down your spine even as you nodded. “We’ll take it slow, and stop any time you need to.”

Together, you walked to the end of the drive and turned to follow the sidewalk. You kept close to him, ears twitching occasionally when you heard him sniffle and take a few shaky breaths.

“I’m okay,” he said, again. “I’m just…not ready to talk about it with the others yet. You understand?”

You nodded, understanding a little too well.

“I don’t want them to think—” He sighed. “Everyone has enough on their minds already.”

You bumped hard against his leg, as if to tell him to stop with that kind of talk. Or, when he looked down at you, it could be because your eyes were shut tight.

“Y/N?” he asked, stopping with you following suit when the leash pulled you back. “Sorry. Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head, but your eyes were still shut tight. Mind going back to when you had to stop yesterday, how you put your paws over your ears and eyes, he asked, “Is the sunlight too much?”

You nodded, but shook your head when he asked if it hurt, and again when he asked if you wanted to end the walk now. So the light was just hard on your eyes, then. Sunlight sensitivity wasn’t exactly something the doctor could check for easily, after all.

“Huh…” Chase chewed on his lip for a minute before asking, “How’s the park sound? The shade under the trees might help. It’s not far from here, and it shouldn’t be crowded on a Monday afternoon.”

You considered this before nodding again. It would be farther than you managed to go yesterday, not including your little adventure last night, but the good thing about the park was that there would be plenty of places to stop and sit if you needed a break, and easy enough to keep you away from other people.

It was a slow walk to get there, with you walking with your eyes shut tight and stopping every time a car drove by, Chase’s hand on your back and soft assurances that everything was okay. Not exactly how you hoped for this walk to go, but when you reached the entrance of the park, his voice sounded much less cracked and shaky when he spoke again.

“Haven’t been here in a while. You ever been here before?”

You nodded, glad for once that you couldn’t provide extra context. Last time you were at this park, it was to investigate a murder.

Now though, you walked with Chase along winding trails under trees still holding onto their last few leaves, with the rest lying all around. There were joggers and walkers in the distance, but Chase was good at picking routes that mainly avoided other people, the number of which went down the further the two of you went into the center of the park.

By the time the small lake came into view, Chase was ready to stop and sit on one of the wooden benches randomly placed around park, where you leaned against his legs. Chase breathed out slowly, feeling the tension ease in his shoulders and back. It was so quiet and peaceful, that he nearly missed when your ears went up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Easy,” he said, ruffling your fur to remind you that he was still there, only to freeze himself when he recognized the next voice.

“Daddy?”

Chase’s head whipped around so fast that his neck cracked, and he could only stare at the woman who had stopped short in the middle of the nearby path and the two young kids with her.

You tilted your head and had just enough time to brace yourself before a young girl practically tackled you with a hug.

“You got a dog?!” she cried. “It’s so big, I love it!”

“Don’t pet a dog without asking,” the woman warned, pulling her daughter back. “That thing could have bitten you!”

“Uh, your mom’s right,” Chase said weakly. “Y/N isn’t used to other people yet.”

Your silver eyes met his and then you visibly made the effort to relax into the image of a regular dog, with a friendly smile and, after a moment to remember, a wagging tail.

“Y/N?” his daughter repeated, as though that was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “That’s a people name, not a dog’s name!”

“It’s the one they came with?” Chase suggested, tensing again as his daughter pet a literal werewolf’s head while his son stared at a distance, eyes wide at the sight of the huge canine. “I didn’t expect to see you guys here today!”

“School’s out for a teacher conference,” the woman answered. “I didn’t expect to see you here, I just thought the kids would enjoy some time at the park.”

Chase tried not to read into that, tried not to think about how she would have changed their plans if she could have known.

“When did you decide to get a dog?” she asked.

“Y/N’s a…rescue that I’m helping to foster,” Chase said slowly. “They’ve been through a lot.”

“They?” she repeated, and Chase thought fast.

“Oh, uh, I wanted to practice with they/them pronouns, and I thought Y/N could help with that.”

“Oh,” she said, and Chase almost imagined that she sounded pleasantly surprised at that.

“Why does their tag have a picture of a cat on it?” asked his daughter, the little girl pulling just hard enough on the collar to make visions of it slipping off speed through Chase’s mind.

“Don’t! Uh, don’t pull on that, sweetie,” Chase said, trying to swallow down the panic in his voice. “The pet store was out of dog tags, so I bought one for a cat…?”

His son finally approached you, and you looked down as he knelt and poked one of your paws before declaring, “Lion.”

You tried not to laugh, you really did, but the boy looked up at you and grinned before repeating it again, “Lion!”

He’d probably get along well with Captain Magnum.

The young girl, meanwhile, picked up a stick and threw it, yelling, “Go fetch, Lion!”

“Y/N doesn’t really—” Chase started, but you took off after it. Luckily, he had the sense to let go of the leash, which dragged behind you as you stopped and stared at the pile of leaves some distance away from the actual stick before picking up another one at random.

“No, that’s not it!” his daughter declared, running to point at the correct one with her brother following after.

Chase exhaled slowly, watching in some disbelief as his kids played with a disguised werewolf before looking up at the woman who he still thought of as his wife, even if she didn’t seem so sure anymore.

“I tried to call you earlier, Staci,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“I just…I thought I should say something,” he said, eyes going to his hands that were gripping each other tightly.

“’Happy Anniversary, I went out and got a dog’?” she suggested. “’Happy Anniversary, by the way, be sure to tell the kids that I walked out on that—'”

“Don’t,” Chase said. The kids were too far away to hear, but he saw your ears move, saw how you steered them just a little farther away just in case. “You know that I still want to see them. If you would let me—”

“No. You don’t just get to ask that, not after what you did,” Staci answered, her stare burning holes into the back of his head. “You left us, you just quit everything and walked away. I thought we were happy, Chase.”

“We—I was, you know this has nothing to do with you or the kids,” Chase said, struggling to keep his voice in check. To keep the tears from coming back. “I just…needed some space from the rest of the family, to figure some things out. My parents…”

“What, expected a lot from you? Set you up with everything you could ever want or need at the Institute? Took care of me and the kids when you left, because you ‘needed some space’ to ‘figure things out’?” Staci made a sound, and Chase could hear the disgust in her voice as she continued, “They would take you back in a second, if you would just ask. Instead, you’re making a fool of yourself online, without a care in the world.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Staci—”

“How? Tell me how it’s complicated, tell me just once why.”

Chase hesitated. She had tried to understand when he said he couldn’t keep up with his work at the Institute, at first thinking the pressure was too much, then, as time passed, assuming he refused to handle the responsibility. She wanted him to stay, to live up to his potential, and when push came to shove, she chose the Bronsons over him. Maybe it would have been different, if he had told her, or maybe she still would have chosen the security his parents offered, the promise of a good education and future for their son and daughter.

But if she didn’t know, then he couldn’t blame her, he could hold on to the hope that maybe, someday, it would make sense. That she and the kids could forgive him.

“Lion? Where’d you go?”

Chase realized that the kids were standing near a patch of trees, staring into the undergrowth, and there was no sign of a massive dog anywhere.

“Y/N?” he said, standing, and then when there was still no sign of them, “Staci, I’m sorry—”

“Go find your dog, Chase,” she said, sounding so tired.

He stopped by his kids, took a second to hug and hold them both before assuring them that “Lion” was okay, probably just distracted by a squirrel or something, before going in after you.

You had been playing with the kids, trying so hard not to overhear a conversation that was not meant for you, when one of the sticks went further than the others. You splashed through fallen leaves after it, venturing past clinging bushes and trees, only to stop short when you caught the smell of the Host.

And of fresh blood.

By the time Chase caught up to you, it was at the foot of a rock outcropping that created a small sheltered area far from any of the other paths and with a good view of the lake. There, he took in the muddy and torn up ground, the spots of blood and other clear signs of a struggle, and you sitting hunched over a long staff made of driftwood, whining softly.

---

“Y/N,” Chase said, not for the first time. He knelt down beside you and picked up the driftwood staff. “We can’t stay here, okay? We need to go, in case they come back.”

Your silver eyes met his, and for a moment he thought you were about to agree and come with him. That is, before you suddenly grabbed the staff out of his hand and took off running with it in your mouth.

The Host’s trail was easy to follow, too easy thanks to the blood, and before long you found yourself at the nearest entrance to the park, staring in dismay at the road where his scent vanished among the smells of too many cars driven by this area too recently.

Chase caught up to you and sighed. “They took whoever it was in a car. Probably straight to the nearest processing center.”

You looked at him and he had to shake his head and say, “No, it’s too late. Those tracks looked over an hour old, they might already be in holding somewhere by now.”

Assuming the owner of that staff wasn’t dead, but Chase didn’t think that was wise to share right now. Besides, if the hunters that took them wanted them dead, they wouldn’t have bothered with taking them this far and risk causing a scene.

You whined again. It was the only sound you could make that came even close to expressing your frustration, your confusion, your disbelief. Someone had attacked the Host, taken him away in broad daylight, and no one noticed? How could Chase not sound more concerned, why weren’t they calling the police for help?

But you already knew why, and suspected Chase had the same idea. If everyone knew there were monsters living in the city, including those like the Host who could pass as human, then maybe they were more used to the sight of a hunter taking someone away. The idea of a hunter finding and catching a ghoul in the city would have made headlines in your day, but maybe now it was just enough to make people stop and stare, then continue about their day.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Chase said, picking up your leash again when the people passing by started to give him looks. “We should head back.”

You didn’t give any sign that you heard him, but you also didn’t resist going with him this time, although your head was lowered, your eyes once again closed against the sunlight, your ears flat as you tried to block out the noise of cars driving by and the voices of people walking by or going in and out of the stores on this side of the park. It probably would have been faster to cut back through the park to where you came in, but Chase had assumed, rightly, that you didn’t want to go back by that place again.

Even just the smells alone were a bit much, between the dusty smell of fallen leaves and the low, heavy scent of car exhaust and gasoline from the road, mingled with the scents of people and flowers placed outside of stores and the overload of information coming out of each open doorway you passed.

So when you passed one and caught the heavy aroma of coffee, you couldn’t resist stopping and taking a deep breath. Start by focusing on one thing, the Host had said, although now you missed the days when you could hunch over a steaming cup of peppermint coffee until it drowned out every other smell, until it was easier to forget that one extra reminder that you weren’t entirely human instead of being reminded every single second.

Chase stopped, realizing that you seemed to need a second, and considered again calling Jackie to come pick you up. Or maybe Marvin, who wouldn’t be tempted to take that literally and who at least kind of knew how to drive. Either option felt like it would lead to being told off for leaving without telling anyone, but the way this walk was going, he was already afraid you would never want to give it a third try.

“Whoa, wait a second. Can you tell me where your dog got that stick?”

A woman wearing a barista apron was standing at the door of the coffee shop, looking from Chase to you, her expression that of someone holding her breath and waiting to decide if she should be very angry or very concerned.

Chase looked down at the piece of driftwood you were still holding onto and back at her, heart already sinking as he said, “We found it in the park, near the lake. Do you, um…?”

“That’s a staff one of my…one of my regulars around here uses to walk with, I’m not sure how far he could go without it. And you say you just found it in the park?”

“...Maybe we could talk inside?” Chase asked.

Not much later, he was seated at a corner booth with Carla, you sitting on the floor but your head still easily high enough to look over the edge of the table at both of them. Otherwise, the coffee shop was empty, a sign on the door encouraging customers to come back in fifteen minutes.

“My—my dog found the staff in an area off the trail. There were signs of a struggle there, and we—I think your friend might have been taken by hunters. Do you know if…was he…?”

Chase paused, unsure of a polite way to ask, but Carla just sighed.

“I don’t think he was entirely human, if that’s what you’re getting at. I never asked, and he never said.” Carla hesitated before adding, “He’s been around for over a month now, and never once taken the bandages off of his eyes. The way they bleed, I suggested once he go to the hospital, but he just said they couldn’t help him there.”

“So he was probably unregistered,” Chase said, although he did pause at that bit about the bandages. What could cause something like that, and go untreated for so long? Maybe a question for the doctor, but for now he said, “The Institute can give anything from a slap on the wrist and a fine to six months in holding for not being registered, depending on what your friend is. The good news is, they’ll probably take a look at his eyes there and do what they can to help.”

“And the bad news?” Carla asked.

“…It might be hard to find out what his situation is, if he doesn’t have any family or close contacts to ask,” Chase said, and judging by the look on Carla’s face you could tell she heard the lie in his voice just as well as you did.

“Meaning it’s easy for him to disappear,” Carla said. “No one to look for him, no one to ask any questions. I’ve heard the stories, we all have, of someone who knew someone who was just not there anymore. People just gone one day, and no one knows what becomes of them? It’s…”

Carla searched for the right word and came up with nothing, but looked down when she heard a whine come from the dog sitting next to them, their head down.

“You know, don’t you baby?” she said, stroking the top of your head.

If she only knew.

“We can try,” Chase said suddenly. “My friends and I, we can at least try and find out something about your friend. I know someone who’s good at finding people, and my friend and I, we’re…we’re familiar with how the Institute works.”

“Because you used to be one of them,” Carla said, and smiled at Chase’s surprise. “I know what the toll of hunting with a conscience looks like. We get all kinds here, trust me. If you and your friends can find something, I’d…I’d really appreciate it.”

Carla insisted on keeping the staff, just in case, and she also insisted on give Chase a cup of fresh hot coffee and a slightly disappointing cup of whipped cream for you, thanking both of you again on your way out even though the news was clearly still sitting hard with her.

“Even if we can find out what’s going on with this Host guy, there’s not much we can do about it,” Chase confessed to you once you were a street or two away from the coffee shop. “I shouldn’t have even said anything.”

You stopped short, pulling back on the leash so hard it threatened to pull your collar off.

“Y/N,” Chase started, before pulling you aside and sitting down on one of the benches along the sidewalk here. Keeping his voice low, eyes watching those going by, he said, “I know what the Institute is like, from back when—from back when I was still calling myself a Bronson.”

“I started out as a hunter, like Carla said. And I was a good one, or thought I was only helping people. I’d give more warnings than the others, let things slide when I could. We worked under the idea that we were protecting people, even the monsters we were bringing in by giving them help so that they could go back out in the city and just live their lives.

“Like…a few years ago, there was an outbreak of vampires. People who didn’t even know they had been turned, until the hunger took over or they showed up in hospitals with huge burns, just because they made the mistake of stepping outside on a sunny day. I found so many of them, people who didn’t know what to do, who were scared, and I took them to the Institute where they did help them learn how to adjust. It got to be so bad that the outbreak led the Institute and the city to help create the registration and blood program that lets Schneep keep his practice, it led to a lot of good for people who otherwise wouldn’t have had that kind of access.

“Doesn’t change the fact that they were—are—horrible.” Chase sighed, silent for a moment before continuing, “I found the vampire who started it all too, the one who was knowingly infecting other people without them even realizing what happened. And I killed him.

“After that, I just…I needed a break from the hunting, and I thought working in the rehabilitation and testing side of the Institute would be better, that I could help without…I’ve gone into Schneep’s clinic before and had someone recognize me, and start crying, begging me not to take them back. That’s what I was to people, as a hunter, when I wasn’t…something else.”

Chase’s breath was shaky, his hand in your fur trembling even as he continued to speak.

“The Institute does take non-humans in, helps them learn how to adjust to living with humans safely, like those vampires. Most of them. Others though, they don’t leave. They’re kept in the name of public safety, or to be studied, taking bits and pieces to find out their properties and how they can be exploited, or to be guinea pigs for new ‘cures.’ Sometimes the experiments focused on normal humans, how to keep someone from turning or…or what exposure to different things can do.”

“Once someone is in the Institute, getting them back out is almost impossible. The Institute helps so many people, enough that most people really do believe that’s all it is. Which is why when it decides to keep someone, it will do everything it can to make sure they don’t leave and ruin that image. The only reason I was able to get Jackie out was because I was already on the inside, and no one was ready to suspect a Bronson. And we still had to leave so many others behind.”

Chase trailed off and you placed a paw on his knee, trying to let him know that you understood, at least as much as you could.

“But you’re not going to let this go, are you?” Chase asked, showing that he understood you too even before you nodded.

He sighed and ruffled your fur, unable to blame you even if he didn’t know about how you had just met the Host, how you maybe owed him a story but definitely owed him for helping you realize Abe was still alive. That, and Carla was right: you knew too well what it was like to disappear, to be taken from your own life and locked away, to let it happen even to someone you barely knew.

“Okay then, ‘Lion,’” he said, his smile bittersweet, “But first let’s go see what the others have to say about us running off. Think you can pull off the puppy dog eyes to get us out of trouble?”

That one, you were less sure about.

((End of Part 17. Thank you for reading! All around, not the best anniversary Chase has had, and yet still not the worst one by a long shot. And as I mentioned up top, I expect the next part to be on the long side, which may come out tomorrow or the day after, depending on how things go. Hopefully that will make up for the break in new additions to the story for a little while. I need to catch up in my writing, and starting next weekend I won’t be near a computer to post story-wise until near New Year’s anyways so it feels better to wait until i can be a little more consistent.

I promise, Part 18 will end on just the right note to make you all yell at me for leaving it there. That’s...the goal, right? Right?

Anyways, here’s the link to Part 18: Peppermint and Silver.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox ))

Click Your Heart ~ Yang Jeongin

Description: You’re always in for a treat when hosting the school’s radio station.

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I AM BACK! I’m so sorry for being inactive for so long. This is inspired by the K-Drama “Click Your Heart”! I thought it was the cutest and I highly recommend it. AND I started this WAYYY before Jeongin got his braces removed. (Ik this kinda sucks :() More coming soon!!

As the lunch bell rings, students scurry out of their classes, in hopes of meeting their friends in the hallways. Despite being shoved by your classmates, you were able to make out your friend in the crowd.

“Jisung!” You exclaimed, hoping to catch his attention. He turned around, realizing that it was you who called his name and motioned towards the end of the hallway, where the lunchroom was located. Knowingly, you picked up your pace in order to catch up with him.

Cafeteria

Students lined up with their trays, waiting for food. It was either the most delicious cuisine or the absolute worst; there was no in between. Sighing out of relief, the school menu had more choices than usual. 

“Thank goodness! The food is actually okay to consume today,” Jisung smiled, putting the food on his tray. “By the way, where are you sitting today?’

You hesitantly scanned the cafeteria and noticed that the usual group you sat with was working on a project together, so you decided not to interfere. 

“Not my usual group, that’s for sure,” You turned back to Jisung. “Can I sit at your table today?” Jisung’s face lit up at your question. 

“Absolutely!” He squealed, hooking arms with you and then dragging you to his table, which caught you by surprise. “There’s someone you need to meet.” 

“Need to meet? They must be really important then,” You joked, only earning a scowl from Jisung. “Okay, please don’t kill me.”

At Jisung’s table, you saw familiar faces. There was Chan, Seungmin, Minho, Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin. However, at the end of the table, you noticed a new yet familiar face. The boy had jet black hair that almost covered his eyes completely, with an amazingly structured face and braces. You made eye contact with the mysterious boy but you broke it, hoping that you weren’t blushing.

Jisung noticed, smiling to himself as he was satisfied with your reaction. ”Y/N, this is Yang Jeongin.” The boy—Jeongin, gave you a smile. You felt your cheeks heat up as you returned the smile and waved.

“From my music class!” I exclaimed, excitedly. Minho and Felix looked at each other, as if it was on cue. The older boy wiggled his eyebrows, earning a punch in the shoulder from Jeongin.

*

“Hello, student body and faculty!” Chan, your senior, cheerily exclaimed into the broadcasting room’s microphone. “Today’s topic is going to be a little different but we hope you’ll listen! But first, let us start today’s broadcast with ‘Music Reviews by Bang Chan’!”

Skimming down the list of topics for today’s broadcast, you noticed that you were assigned to something new.

‘Confessions with Y/N’ it read. You furrowed your eyebrows and decided that you should consult Chan once he was finished with his part.

‘Maybe the other club members would know.’ You thought, scanning the room to see if anyone else was just as confused as you were. Suddenly, Jisung and your friend, Seungmin, were standing in the corner, whispering to each other and glancing in your direction.

You sat down in the desk chair and pondered as your chin rested in your palm. ‘Let me wait and see.’

Chan exited the booth and handed you the papers that you would be reading from. Music played from inside the booth as the listeners waited for the next part of the broadcast, which was yours.

“I think you should introduce the new topic,” Chan suggested, lending you his dimpled smile. “You might find it interesting.”

You glanced at the paper briefly before turning back to your senior. “Is there something I’m missing here? We didn’t discuss this during last week’s meeting.”

Chan raised his eyebrows, considering he was surprised by your response. “It’s a special request. Not from me, but you’ll see, eventually. Just do it today, okay? Let’s see how it goes.”

Sighing, you nodded, causing the whispers from Jisung and Seungmin to die down. Chan patted your shoulder and wished you good luck. You entered the booth, adjusting the microphone to your comfort and cleared your throat before going back on the air.

“And that was 3RACHA’s ‘Placebo’! Let’s thank the trio for letting us advertise their song and make sure you give them a listen!” You fumbled the papers beneath the microphone, hoping your classmates wouldn’t hear the rustling of papers in the broadcast. “Hi, my name is Y/N and today we will be introducing something a little different from the usual broadcasts. Welcome to ‘Confessions with Y/N’!” Dying to get something off your chest? Submit your concerns to us and we can offer some advice. Stay tuned till next time!” Jisung motions to the time on the digital clock above the door, reminding you that time’s up.

You exited the booth and went back to the broadcasting club members, who were gathered in a circle. Chan dismissed you all, including Seungmin and Jisung. You were going to walk to the bus stop with them. The three of you asked Chan if he was coming along but he agreed to interview the dance club and get an idea for upcoming broadcasts. He had always been so hardworking and you wished he would take breaks and relax more but you didn’t bother anymore. It was almost impossible to convince him to take a break. You bid him goodbye before jogging to catch up with the two boys.

The next day

Grabbing your instrument, you walked into the music classroom and started back to your section, which depended on what instrument you played. In the music storage room, you bumped into Jeongin, who happened to be in your music, causing him to drop his music sheets. Flustered, you apologized.

“I’m sorry! Here—let me help you.” You bent down and started to pick up his papers and he did the same.

He smiled shyly, showing his defined cheekbones. “Really, it’s ok!”

His smile made you blush a little, causing you to break eye contact with him and stand up. You flattened the wrinkled corners of his sheet music and handed them back to him. “Here you go.”

Jeongin thanked you, which then led to the both of you standing there awkwardly, hoping one of you would break the ice.

“Oh!” Jeongin’s face lightened up as if he just remembered something. “Good job on your broadcast yesterday.” His bright smile stayed radiant from before.

How could someone have such a beautiful smile?

“Thank you!” You chuckled, grazing the case of your instrument. “I wonder if anyone will submit anything. Guess we have to wait and see.” You winked at him playfully, causing him to laugh.

He licked his lips and blinked rapidly. “Yeah, we will.”

•

Your teacher stopped the class in the middle of a piece to review a certain section, giving some of the class an opportunity to chat. You turned to your senior, Woojin, who was the only guitar player in the school’s music department. You asked him for help fixing your music stand, which he obliged to. As he was doing so, your eyes scanned the room, only to rest on Jeongin’s, who was not-so-discreetly staring at you. His eyes widened and shifted back to his music as he sat at the piano.

‘Weird.’ You thought before turning back to Woojin and thanking him for his help.

“Yang Jeongin! Your mind seemed to wander after we got to measure 17. Don’t get lost, that’s a very important part.” As the cute boy was scolded, he lowered his head but his gaze focused on you, which you didn’t notice until Woojin pointed it out.

“Sparkly eyes is still staring at you, Y/N,” Woojin chuckled. “Maybe you should talk to him after class.” He smirked, grabbing his pencil to write in music notes on his sheet.

The teacher made you all do two more pieces before the students were dismissed. You quickly put away your music stand and instrument in the crowded music storage room.

‘No sign of Jeongin,’ You thought, frowning a little. Staring at the time, you realized that it was almost time for the broadcasting club to start. ‘I guess I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow.’

The next day

After music class had ended, you waited patiently outside in the corridor, instrument in one hand and folder in other, in hopes that you would see Jeongin. Sadly, after minutes of waiting, you realized that he must have left to his next class already.

Jisung completed his part of the broadcasting which was: “How to make study material into a rap”. After the music break, it would be your turn to do your part; however, you dreaded it since you felt embarrassed reading confessions and not knowing what sort of advice to give.

Seungmin looked up from today’s schedule and motioned to you. “Y/N, you’re up.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you started into the booth and took a seat, flipping to the first page of lines you were given.

“Hello, and welcome back to “Confessions with Y/N”! My dear assistant, Seungmin, will bring them in.”

Seungmin brought in the box, which overflowed with slips of paper and handed it to you quickly, before shutting the door. This is going to take a while.

‘Why so many?’ You mouthed to him. He had a smirk plastered on his face and just shrugged, folding his arms against his chest afterward.

With your eyebrows furrowed, you began today’s “Confessions with Y/N” session.

“Hello everyone and welcome back to “Confessions with Y/N”! It seems like you all have lots to get off your chest but that’s what I’m here for-“ You cut yourself off to look through the many slips in the box. You studied the first one, reading it silently to yourself before repeating it into the studio’s microphone.

“Ok, here’s our first confession! ‘Hello, I’m in my first year and I struggle with finding a friend group. I have select friends from my classes but none of them are really my closest. How can I build a secure friendship?’” You fixed your position in the chair. “Well, I say maybe join some clubs or walk over to a random lunch table and ask: ‘Hey, can I sit here?’ Believe it or not, that’s how I made a couple friends so I don’t think it hurts to give it a shot!” You beamed.

A majority of the confessions were about drama in friend groups, crushes and odd experiences in their classes.

“Here’s an interesting one,” You paused to flatten out the crumbled paper. “It’s titled: ‘Crushing on my best friend’s boyfriend’. ‘Hi. Ever since my best friend got a boyfriend, he’s always around and I can’t help but notice him more. I tried to stop myself from developing feelings for him but he’s just making it harder. How can I stop this?’” Sighing, you put the paper to the side, beside the one confession that was left, waiting to be read.

“To be honest, I think this problem is common but often left unspoken. If I were you, I wouldn’t know what to do except wait and just hope-“ You are cut off by Chan snapping his fingers to get your attention and remind there are two minutes left. You acknowledged that you were pressed for time. “-that eventually they’ll go away. Maybe try to understand your feelings instead of being afraid of them.”

“Oh! It looks like we are almost out of time. I’m going to read one more and then that will be the end of ‘Confessions with Y/N’ for today!”

Reaching over to where the single piece of paper was, you grabbed it and began to unfold it.

Confused, you read the paper over and over again.

On the paper, there was a class number written: Class 503

“I’m a bit confused that this “confession” just has a class on it,” You mumbled. “On that note, make sure to tune in for the next broadcast! Thank you!” Taking off the headset, you placed it down on the table before exiting the room.

Small talk was made among the club members while you sorted the box that was bound to break; however, all the chatting was silenced once Chan walked in. He made his way over to you.

“So,” He cleared his throat, straightening his school shirt. “How’s the club’s newest edition coming along?” He said, excitedly. His dimple was prominent due to his wide smile.

You scratched your wrist lightly. “It’s going! I actually wanted to show you one of the confessions we got–“ You handed him the crumbled slip of paper that read of nothing but a class number. Furrowing his eyebrows at the sudden change of your voice, which seemed confused, Chan took it into his own hands and began to read.

“Hm,” His lips showed a hint of a smirk. “I wonder who could’ve sent it.”

He knows something.

You were not amused. You hated being confused and never liked to be left guessing. Crossing your arms tightly across your chest, you glared at Chan.

Noticing your expression, your elder raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“It seems like you know something,” You got closer to him, stroking your chin, suspiciously. “If I’m correct.”

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t know why you’re trying to accuse me of knowing. I would’ve told you.” Chan’s eyes softened, but his forehead tensed as he raised his eyebrows.

Feeling a little pang of guilt in your heart, you let your arms hang in defeat. “But I hate being confused!”

The class number seems so familiar.

DING! You had a light bulb moment.

“Oh!” Your sudden outburst of excitement surprised Chan. “That’s my class number! The person must be in my music class! Or they’re trying to reach someone in my class.” Chan chuckled at your behavior, patting you on the shoulder before turning to leave.

“Whatever you think, Y/N,” He shook his head playfully. “Anyways, I gotta go. Supposedly, the music club’s moderator couldn’t be at their meeting today so they asked me to do it.”

“But you’re a student.”

Chan cocked his eyebrow. “C’mon, look at who you’re talking to. I’m Bang Chan! Anyone can trust me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved your senior playfully towards the door so he can be on his way. You waved farewell to the rest of the club members before singlehandedly grabbing your bag and exiting the broadcasting room.

At the bus stop

Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.

You couldn’t sit still as you waited for your bus. Jisung and Seungmin already boarded theirs and it seemed like hours ago that you were left by yourself. In one hand, you held the crumpled confession; meanwhile, your schedule was in the other.

‘This person must be in my class!’ You thought to yourself, but shook your head immediately. ‘I can’t just jump to conclusions.’

Frustratedly, you mumbled under your breath, shoving both papers back into your-already-messy backpack. You were beyond lost in your thoughts when someone suddenly joined you on the bus stop’s bench. 

“Maybe Woojin can help me.” You whispered to yourself, excitedly slipping it off your back then tossing it onto your lap, not realizing that you have wacked whoever was sitting on the bench.

Suddenly, a sharp breath was taken beside you, causing for you to turn and see who your victim was.

Yang Jeongin!

Eyes wide and mouth agape, you immediately started to rub his head, which is where you had hit him, apologizing frantically and your heartbeat quickening, as well.

“Oh my goodness!” My face feels like it’s on fire! “I am so so sorry! I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I didn’t-“

Softly, the flustered boy grabbed your hands, stopping their actions.

‘He has a soft touch,’ Breathlessly, you sat there, looking into those sparkly eyes that only stared back, making your stomach feel the light batting of butterflies. Noticing what he was doing, Jeongin’s eyes widened and he immediately yanked his hands away.

“I-It’s okay!” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. You scrunched your forehead with worry.

“Did I hit you hard? I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice you were next to me.”

He sighed, shoulders slouching. So Y/N didn’t even notice me. Great.

“Not at all!” He tried to disguise his disappointment. “I was just a little surprised, that’s all.”

‘Ah,’ You mouthed, chuckling slightly before looking down at your hands to play with your fingers.

Feeling the bench shift, you noticed Jeongin inch closer to you. Due to the unexpected closeness, you felt your ears burn along with your cheeks.

“This may sound super nosy but,” Jeongin paused, as if he was getting his words together. “Were just talking about Woojin hyung? Is everything okay?”

‘Oh great! He heard me mumbling to myself.’ You mentally rolled your eyes at your carelessness and sighed, turning to the cute boy beside. When did he get so cute? How come you’re just noticing how perfect his hair is, how defined his cheekbones are and how his smile could illiuminate an entire room? My goodness, Y/N, get a grip!

“Do you by any chance listen to the school broadcast?” Jeongin nodded.

“As you know, recently I was assigned to a new feature called ‘Confessions with Y/N’ and let me say this: it is certainly interesting. But there is one thing that is confusing me-“ You paused to open your backpack and pull out the crumbled paper. Normally, you wouldn’t show just anyone the confession but for some reason, deep down in your heart, you had a feeling Jeongin was trustworthy. Plus, this was an opportunity to talk to a cute boy, so why not?

“- It just says our music class number,” You handed the paper to him, which he took into his lightly shaking hands. “When I mentioned Woojin, I was debating if I should ask him for advice or not.”

“Maybe they’re doing a, uh, puzzle type thing! Like, maybe this isn’t their last confession, you know?” DING! What you just heard made so much sense and you couldn’t believe how oblivious you have been this whole time.

“Yang Jeongin, you’re brillant!”

While the two of you were chatting away, you didn’t even notice your bus pull up to the stop. It wasn’t until Jeongin pointed it out.

“Is that your bus?” You shot up, grabbing your backpack and swinging over one shoulder.

“Yes! Thank you!” You started towards the bus but paused.

“Aren’t you getting on?”

“Oh,” He laughed nervously, looking at the ground. “I, um, I don’t need to take the bus.”

“So why were you at the stop?”

“I, uh-“ Jeongin sighed, clearing his throat before declaring confidently:

“I wanted to talk to you.”

•

“HE WANTED TO TALK TO ME, WOOJIN!” I screamed into the phone. “CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS? BECAUSE I CAN’T!”

“WELL, IF YOUR OBLIVIOUS ASS WOULD HAVE NOTICED HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE, THEN YOU WOULDN’T BE SO SHOCKED.”

“First of all, ouch. Second, even if I noticed, I wouldn’t have made a move. I’m way too shy.” You closed your books and shoved them into your backpack.

“What did you do after he said that to you?”

“Um...”

“Oh no. You didn’t just leave, did you?”

“I panicked! I didn’t know what to do. I’ll find him tomorrow, I promise!”

“No school tomorrow, dumbass.”

Monday

Each period dragged and it seemed like music class was lightyears away meanwhile it was only after lunch. You were a nervous wreck the whole day. Your body seemed to shake every time you looked at anyone in the halls, in anticipation that you would lock eyes with Jeongin. Plus, you didn’t even drink that much water! So why does it feel like you have to use the restroom ever five minutes?

Finally, the wait was over and it was time for music class. Lee Minho, your fellow classmate in Mathematics, tried to keep up with your fast and anxious but failed to do so. You apologized and said you would explain later.

Brushing past your classmates, you made your way into the music room and scanned the scene. No sight of Jeongin.

“If you’re looking for sparkly eyes, he’s not here today.” Startled, you sighed of relief when you realized it was just Woojin.

“Great,” You felt your eyes burn with tears. “I scared him away. He probably feels embarrassed. All because of me.”

Woojin patted my back gently. “Don’t worry. There’s still time. Maybe something came up.”

Broadcasting club meeting

“Hey guys-whoa! Why the pouty face, Y/N?” You rolled your eyes at Chan, gathering the papers for today’s broadcast before it was your turn to be on the air.

“Not the best day.” You mumbled, walking into the booth with your head down as Seungmin held the door open.

“Good afternoon, fellow students! I hope everyone had a great weekend. Today, we’re only going to read one confession and save the rest for next week, since we’re a little pressed for time.” Your school was sponsoring a firework show in the neighborhood’s park so a majority of the student body was heading to that part of town right after classes had ended.

“Okay,” You use the corner of the desk to flatten the paper. “‘A teacher of mine gave me a grade that I think is unfair. We did a group assignment and they never specified if we were going to be graded separately or as a group. I was the only one who did work and spent hours on it. Should I speak to my teacher?’”

I fixed my posture in my chair. “I know confrontation sucks but if you feel like the grade you received was not the grade you deserved, talk to the teacher! Try to make them understand that you were unsure how the grading process was going to work and that your partners were not helping you complete the assignment. Let them know where you stand!” Satisifed with your answer, you ended the broadcast feeling slightly better than before. You pushed yourself out of the chair and flicked the lights of the booth off, exiting into the main room.

“Sorry it had to be cut short. You know, with the festival happening later, there aren’t as many listeners as usual,” Chan went to grab his jacket, patting Seungmin on the back before heading out with him; both of them turning back to wave. You forced a smile and quickly closed the door behind them, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

In your hand, there was a confession.

It read: ‘Piano Room #3’.

You’re going to found out who is writing these confessions once and for all.

•

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-DUM.

You swore the whole damn school could hear your heart beat louder and louder within each step you took. Why are my hands so sweaty?

Finally. You take your shaky hand and placed it on the cool, metal doorknob of Piano Room #3. After taking in a few deep breaths, you turned the doorknob and pushed the heavy door open, cursing to yourself about the minor inconvenience.

You couldn’t believe who sat there on the bench, with their fingers lightly stroking the keys of the piano.

Yang Jeongin.

“J-Jeongin?” He jumped in his seat, dropping the sheet music onto the freshly polished wooden floor. Before you could offer a hand, the cute boy quickly grabbed the papers, not caring about the creases he was causing by the way he was holding it.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt but,” You softly closed the door behind you; however, due to its weight, it closed quite loudly, causing for you to wince. “Have you seen anyone come by and wait around or something? Maybe hide something in the room?”

Jeongin stood quiet, prying his eyes away from you and looking down at his hands. You felt a slight pang in your heart as you felt embarrassed for asking such a question.

Shuffling towards the shelves of music books, you could feel Jeongin’s eyes burning holes through your back. Did I do something wrong? You shook the thought and continue to rummage through the books, skimming along their spines. Out of nowhere, two arms, snaked over your arms, pulling them to your chest. They possessed such a gentle yet firm hold and it seemed as if oxygen was suddenly snatched away from your lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“I like you, Y/N,” Jeongin’s voice shook. “I like you a lot. I just couldn’t say it to your face.” Softly and slowly, he removed his arms and placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you around.

Those sparkly eyes of his. The ones that made you stomach fill with butterflies stared into yours, making it harder to focus. “You don’t have to like me back.”

He nodded disappointedly before turning away and heading for the door.

Jeongin placed his hand on the doorknob. It’s now or never, Y/N.

“I like you, too!”

•

The street was filled with colorful lights, stands selling baked goods and objects like blankets, considering it was a brisk, autumn evening.

Not paying attention, a blanket was suddenly thrown onto your shoulders and a churro was placed in your hand.

“My treat.” Jeongin smiled. My goodness, this boy is really making my heart do backflips. After you had confessed to each other, Jeongin excitedly asked you to accompany him to the school festival, which you gladly accepted. Ever now and then, you would share silent moments of the two of you just smiling at each other, simply enjoying the other’s presence and not being able to fathom the idea.

You thanked him, grabbing the blanket and swinging it onto your arm. Suddenly, someone bumped into you quite hard. It was no one other than Han Jisung.

“Sorry, Y/N! The fireworks are starting now and we really wanna find a spot to sit!” We?

You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering who the other person could be. Your question was answered the moment Lee Felix came from behind you and waved. Felix squinted his eyes at you and Jeongin, then widening them. He violently grabbed Jisung’s wrists and motioned to the two of you.

“Do you think,” Felix whispered very loudly in his ear. “Do you think they came here together?!”

“Hyung, you’re a horrible whisperer.” Jeongin rolled his eyes, then turning to face you. “Let’s go find a spot.” He softly placed a hand on your back, guiding you towards the grassy area.

“Oh my goodness, did you see the hand? Our Jeongin is so grown!” You smirked at Felix and Jisung’s banter.

You approached a clearing, with few free spots. Luckily, there was a spot pretty close to the front and was the perfect for the you and Jeongin to squeeze in; though, deep down, you wouldn’t have minded the lack of space.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Please make yourselves comfortable as the firework show will be starting in 2 minutes.”

Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jeongin sitting with his knees to his chest, giving you the impression that he was cold. You unfolded the blanket, placing it onto his shivering body. He turned you with a puzzled expression.

“You looked cold.” You smiled, playing with your fingers.

“Ready in 3!”

He stretched the blanket out, letting it fall gently on your shoulders.

“2!”

Then, Jeongin placed his arm on your back, nudging you under the shelter of the blanket.

“1!”

You felt his rapid heartbeat against your arm and couldn’t help but giggle to yourself.

Good to know I wasn’t the only one going crazy here.

‘A Self-Portrait of an inspired and reflective practitioner” (Me?!?)

This week as a part of trying to reflect on my practice and who I am as a creative I was set to task to create a self-portrait. I was given no limits as far as media, method and message which left me with a seemingly endless pool of options. My initial reaction was to create a playlist, what better way to describe myself than with the medium I love. However, as I started putting it together, I found that while I can fill a playlist with songs from my childhood, what I was influenced by and what I am trying to emulate, it felt like there were gaps in the story.

I decided to put together a collage of images both gathered from the internet as well as some from my social media, with the idea that not only is it a collection of images that sums up who I am but also works to tell a chronological level. On the bottom level are the things that shaped me as a young person, before I ever had formal music training. I was raised in a very musical family, the three artists across the bottom, Prince, Kenny Rodgers, and Meatloaf represent listening to albums and songs in cars on the way to and from school with my family and watching Purple Rain when I was younger, seeing Prince and wanting nothing more than to be him. The fourth image is from Christmas 2014 and represents a common occurrence when I was younger that is at family events all my uncles would bring guitars and sing Latin American songs out of time and out of key. Looking at these formative images I am struck with two things that felt missing in a playlist and that is the experience of living through experiencing this media. I was drawn to songs that told a story like The Gambler by Kenny Rodgers or the Bat out of Hell Album by Meatloaf, the life of The Kid in Purple Rain and the family tradition of singing together.

Moving up we enter my high school years, which was when music shifted from something I liked to something I was obsessed with. I have included mostly photos from live shows as this was the period where I was going to as many shows as I could afford and trying to sneak into the ones I couldn’t. I was a typical teenager in that I was drawn to “angsty” music but was already developing a passion for Australian music, loving bands like Tonight Alive and Vices. The mecca of live music for me at this time was a venue in Wollongong called RAD Bar. It was a tiny venue with average sound on a good night, but it was a safe haven for the music community for many years and was where I made many friends that turned into industry contacts and where I would play some of my first ever shows. The non-Australian bands included here are Modern Baseball and Being as An Ocean. Different bands when considering sound but I was drawn to them for the same reason, the same reason I was drawn to the music I liked when I was younger, there were stories there, stories I related to. On the right side, lower portion you might notice the cover of Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue and be somewhat confused. When I started playing bass I ended up getting lessons at the local conservatorium through high school. I was already in love with music at this point and was super eager to start playing. Initially, I thought the jazz stuff was cool, appreciated why I should learn the theory but wanted to play in the pop-punk band me and my friends had formed. It wasn’t until I was introduced to modal Jazz, through Kind of Blue that I fell in love with the genre. Why? I heard stories, through Miles’s trumpet playing and the harmony I felt emotion and communication, just as much as I did when listening to a song with lyrics. While it is a seemingly tangential story I view my experience of learning Jazz theory and coming to understand harmony and how that can play into composition on an emotional level as core to some of the work I’m doing now.

Moving up into my uni, through to now life I found I was looking for less photos of other people and looking for experiences I had. My time at uni was when I started playing in bands more regularly, went on tour, was involved with recording, all of which I have continued as I have been able to this day. I have included photos of the two bands I played in primarily, Jack R. Reilly from Sydney and Indie Kid Callum from Wollongong, both projects were built on groups of friends wanting to create together as opposed to getting the best players in town together. I have also included two photos of me doing the solo work that takes up most of my current creative time. Even though Sal Viejo and found_sound.mp3 are solo projects, in that I am the only one with their name to the whole of the projects, I am still influenced by my community, I write songs about my life, experiences, friends and our stories. I remix work from other artists. I listen to and love my friends work; we share mixes and ideas with each other. The final image is the logo for the website/booking agency that I started with my best friend in 2020. We are dedicated to listening to, writing about, and promoting local music and have been working on shows and write ups for artists from Canberra and beyond. This part of my practice in my mind is informed and built on all the things that have come before. The way I play is influenced by the songs I grew up listening to, my performance is based on shows that I saw and was a part of, the way I enjoy collaborating can be traced back to my experiences with my family. At the centre is a photo I took today (on day of writing) in a mirror just outside of my room. Looking at the image, I find it interesting the little stories and memories that some of the images conjure. Alongside each of these is a song or performance or idea for a song or performance waiting to happen. I feel like I am the most creative when I am at the centre of all these things. Sometimes I find that I ignore some of the experiences I have, deeming jazz theory as inappropriate for an emo song or thinking that a standard four chord progression is too simple. But just looking at the breadth of my taste and experience, you’d think I know that it’s not always what you do it is often tied up with how you do it.

This exercise has proved a valuable tool for reflecting on who I am as a creative. I have concluded that as an individual I am drawn to art that has a story and is a part of community. So, it seems only fitting that in my journey as a creative practitioner when I work I am influenced by all of the things I have absorbed and had experiences with. I mix them all together and try to make something that tells a story and has a place in my community.

Image Descriptions and References (Starting Top Left)

1: Photo from Show with Jack R Reilly Band. (2019). Taken from Personal Facebook Page

2:HomeGrown Sounds Logo, designed by Beniah Coulburn. Taken from Personal Facebook Page

3: Sign from Rad Bar in Wollongong. (2018). Taken from Personal Facebook Page

4: Photo of me working as found_sound.mp3. (2021). Unpublished.

5: Photo of me performing at The Front as Sal Viejo. (2019). Taken from personal Facebook page.

6: Photo of recording set up for gang vocals for Canberra Band Plastic Plants. (2020). Taken from Personal Facebook Page

7: Photo of Tonight Alive Performing Live on the ‘The Other Side’ tour (2018). https://wallpapersafari.com/w/nvfjuN

8: Photo from the last ever Vices show at Rad Bar (2018). https://robfrench.com.au/2018/04/23/vices-last-ever-show/

9: Photo of me taken this morning (29/07/21). Unpublished

10:Photo taken at a band practice for Indie Kid Callum. (2017). Taken from Personal Facebook Page

11: Photo of Modern Baseball Playing live in Glasgow. (2014). https://louderthanwar.com/modern-baseball-audio-glasgow-24092014-live-review/

12: Photo of me playing bass at an Indie Kid Callum Show. (2017). Taken from Personal Facebook Page

13: Cover of Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue. (n.d.) https://www.vinyldestination.com.au/miles-davis-kind-of-blue-mono-limited

14: Promotional Image of Prince for Purple Rain. (2019). https://ultimateprince.com/purple-rain-moments/

15: Album Cover of Kenny Rodgers’ The Gambler. (n.d.) https://genius.com/Kenny-rogers-the-gambler-lyrics

16: Photo of family Christmas eve gathering. (2014) Taken from Personal Facebook Page

17: Album Cover of Meatloaf’s Bat out of Hell (2021). https://tommygirard.wordpress.com/2021/03/16/meat-loaf-bat-out-of-hell/

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The Last All-Clear (4)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

This story is a series of vignettes following the premise: “Imagine if Jamie travelled through the stones, but instead of finding Claire in Boston he found himself having arrived years too early, when the War was still happening and Claire had yet to meet him… What would he do?”

Formatting note: Bolding in Jamie’s letters = underlining

Previously:

(Part 1) September 17, 1942: A Rusty Nail

(Part 2) December 3, 1942: Comb and Glove

(Part 3) 1943: Blood and Whisky 

1943-1944: Gifts and Ends

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

1 September

Another long night in surgery by the end of which I wanted nothing more than to scream.

But, as always, Danton was there waiting for me at the shed with whisky and an open ear. I don’t know how he always knows when I’m in most need of company, but it means the world to know I’ve got a friend, not just friendly people with whom I work, but a friend. He’s always there to listen, drink with me, say a word of encouragement, and get me laughing by the time I leave to go to sleep. Still a tough nut to crack, all things considered, but I’ve rarely encountered someone so intuitive and incisive. He’s quiet, but when he speaks, it’s with such intention. 

Add another tidbit to the Danton file: his mother’s name was Hélène and she had red hair. It makes him sad to talk about her, but he loved her very much. 

9 3 2 

Will ye have you noticed, reading this, years hence, that I’m a different person these last several months than in the ones before? That I go days—weeks, even— without writing single word? That when I do, it’s brief pleasantries: what I ate, the tasks I undertook?

It isna because my days are less full than before; quite the contrary. Only, if I dinna force myself to recount the way I’ve let myself act around you, the way I order my day so that I can see you, the way I encourage your attentions, chaste and merely friendly as they are....If I allow myself to simply go to sleep with the sound of your voice still fresh in my ear, I’m better able to live with myself for it. ‘Tis infinitely easier to let myself live my days in an unexamined happiness, however fleeting, however much I feel the shame of it in my bones, deep down. Writing of it, having to face it, makes my weaknesses so abundantly and painfully clear. Denial, I have found, is its own sweet comfort. 

Will you understand this, Sassenach? Will you understand the depth of loneliness that can drive a person to be so pitifully less than he ought? 

Still, with every day that passes, each day torn between restraint and joy in your companionship, I find the voice of better judgement murmuring more and more determinedly in the back of my mind, the same questions that have been there from the beginning of this nightmare: What is it that I actually accomplish on your behalf? Is it only my pride that keeps me here? Would it be better for you, be less risky, if I were to simply leave, go to Scotland and bide my time until you should return? Am I doing you any good at all by staying? 

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

25 December

A working Christmas, but a merry one. Wrote a long letter to Frank with all my love. 

Danton seemed absolutely shocked when I handed him his gift, and he tried to scold me for it, but everyone can use a new scarf, I insisted! It brings out the blue in his eyes. He grumbled about it even then, but honestly I think he was just embarrassed he didn’t have anything for me in return. Told him it was the least I could do to pay him back for drinking all of his good whisky, month after month. Then I told him the truth: that his friendship has been a tremendously dear gift to me this year. I swear to God, the man actually blushed. 

9 9 1

A new year, today, mo nighean donn.  Ye pushed a paper cup of champagne into my hand at the gathering in the mess hall and kissed my cheek before running off to dance with your friends. It was a lively song first, but followed by that bittersweet one that brings tears to my eyes every time, even if I canna discern the tune: 

     ....how happy, my darling, we’ll be,     

     when they turn up the lights, 

     and the dark, lonely nights     

     are only a memory.

You sat off to the side, during that one, looking as lonely and sorrowful as I myself must have appeared.

Nineteen hundred and forty-four. Another year closer to when I can take your face in both my hands and kiss you without end, at the stroke of midnight or no. 

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

13 January

Saw Danton wearing his blue muffler again. Teased him about it and he immediately grinned and pulled a little cloth-wrapped bundle out of his pocket. The bastard intentionally baited me! 

My Christmas gift turned out to be a little carved-wood oval, polished and sleek as a pebble, with an intricate interlace pattern that, at the center, knits inward to form a dragonfly. It’s small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, and I honestly can’t stop staring at it. The time it must have taken him, and the precision needed for working on so tiny a canvas! He demurred, of course, when I raved about the craftsmanship, but I know he was pleased I liked it. 

1 0 0 9

You stitched up a wee French laddie today, no more than four years of age. He was hurt in the course of fleeing with his family, and it was clear that he was terrified of soldiers and of being in camp. Ye spoke to him softly in his own language as ye worked, though, soothing and comforting him as though he were your own. Ye sang to him, too. Being so sadly precluded from music myself, these last years, it didna occur to me before that ye might have such a lovely voice. 

I’ve passed these last few hours in such beautiful peace, mo ghraidh: imagining the day when ye might take my head in your lap and sing to me as you stroke my hair; a day when a song drifts through our rooms, our home, and I peek through a doorway to see you cradling our child, singing them to sleep. 

1 0 1 3 

You didna tell me he was coming to camp.

Should it reassure me, an indication that I’m insignificant enough that it didna even cross your mind to mention it? Or is it the worst of signs: that ye didna want to speak of your husband, of all people, to me? 

There he stood, there at the quiet edge of camp by the pond, behind the barracks. Franklin Wolverton Randall, patiently waiting for his wife to go on leave. He truly does look like the bastard. I nearly reached for my knife when I saw him standing there, unannounced, unexpected. Then to see you, out of uniform, hair long and loose as ye ran for him, flew into his arms with that same abandon as you used to enter mine? See him kiss you, touch you like that—

I watched for far too long, mo chridhe. I confess as much to you, here. It was wrong of me, but I simply couldna look away. Even after the two of ye had left, hand-in-hand, your face alight and beaming....I sat under that tree for hours—trying not to think of where and how and for how long he was bedding you, tasting you. Would ye be making those same small sounds for him, reaching for him with that wild, lovely abandon? Would ye be crying out his name, moaning for him as

Forgive me. 

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

24 January

Lord, it’s positively wretched trying to undertake an intimate visit in a mobile camp with no friendly town or inn nearby. A spare tent and two mattresses pushed together on the ground hardly can qualify as a love nest. Still, throw enough cozy blankets on top and a cozy husband within for good measure, and not a bad way to spend a day or two off. 

It’s been over a year since we last saw each other. Always a little strange trying to get back into things, but it’s so good to have him here, to have even a short time to reconnect. It’s easy to get caught up in work, day after day and month after month; easy to forget, amidst it all, that I’ve a marriage to maintain.  

Danton’s taken ill, apparently; asked for today and tomorrow off. Hoping he’s alright.

1 0 1 5 

I wanted him to be cruel. I wanted him to be the worst kind of scum. 

But when I was so startled seeing his face again unexpectedly today that I dropped a hammer on my foot, he came over at once to see if he could help. He was kind and considerate, and had a warmth to his eyes, even toward a complete stranger such as me. He has nothing of the cruelty of his putative ancestor, not to me, and more importantly, not toward you. I could see the tenderness he has for ye, the evident care and the love as the two of ye made your farewells.

It only serves as yet another proof. You’re safe while you’re in camp. You’re safe when you’re with Frank. You dinna need me watching over you. You never did. The only one that needed it was me. 

Today, Claire. It ends today. I promise you this.

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

9 February

Danton is angry with me, I think. Every time I try to approach him to talk or just say hello, he’s turning tail and making for the other side of camp. He’s never in the wards anymore, nor do I see him taking his meals at the usual times. I made excuses for him for the first several days, but it’s clear, now, that he’s actively avoiding me. 

It shouldn’t bother me as much as it has, but damn it all, I miss him; that calm support he’s been to me this year. 

Jesus, looking at that on the page, I want to scratch it out. I have no right to be so entitled or territorial or whatever you wish to call it. The man’s never even told me his first name, for god’s sake, and he hardly knows a thing about me, either. Still, there’s a hollow feeling in my chest every time I feel that dragonfly carving in my pocket. I miss him, and I don’t know what I did. 

How bloody dare he. 

1 0 6 5 

I ache for you, mo nighean donn.

April 1, 1944

I rounded the corner so quickly, neither of us had time to avoid the other. We both just stood there in the narrow passage between tents, teetering mid-step. I smiled and opened my mouth to speak. He nodded once, put his head down, and walked around me.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” I snapped, turning to follow him with my glare, “honestly? Danton, I’m not going to bite you.”

He stopped, but did not turn. “I know, madame.” Quiet. lifeless. 

“Will you at least tell me what it is I’ve done to offend you so grievously?”

I didn’t think it was possible, but his shoulders tensed further. “You ‘ave done nothing, madame.”

“Well, something clearly changed.” All my pent-up bewilderment was barreling out of me in a fury. “You’ve avoided me completely for weeks. You won’t even look at me any more, like the past year was just— erased overnight! I mean, Jesus H. Christ, we used to be friends, didn’t we?”

A momentary flash of blue over his shoulder before the hair and the hat obscured him. “In truth, we do not know one another, madame. We ‘ave been friendly acquaintances.”

“Ac...Acquaintances.” My blood boiled and hot tears prickled in my eyes. “That’s it? That’s.... bloody it?” My voice came out shrill and small. 

His was like a dead man’s. “What more did you think it was, madame?”

I couldn’t even speak for a few moments, so great was the shock and hurt. 

He made to walk away, but then I found my voice, low, teeth gritted. “Perhaps I don’t know you in the sense of having all the details of your life’s story. Why? Because you deign to divulge such things only once in a blue moon and I’ve respected that.” I rallied, trying to maintain control of the lump in my throat and my rage. “But you meant a hell of a lot more to me than I apparently meant to you.”

He was still for moment longer, then he turned and faced me squarely, looking me in the eye with a hostility I had never before seen there. “I am no longer interested in being your charity case, madame. And it is time you learned to carry on without needing a man to constantly congratulate you.” 

He may as well have sliced me open. 

“Fuck you, too, then.”

I threw the dragonfly on the ground and walked away without a glance backward. 

1 0 8 2  

It was the only way I knew to complete the break. 

I am so very sorry, mo nighean donn. 

I shall be leaving as soon as I have enough wages to get home.  I waited all my life for you. I can wait four years more alone.

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

4 May 

So many battles. So many wounded. German incursions and raids have locked down the camp until further notice. 

God, just let this vile war end. 

1 1 3 4 

You willna even speak to me, now. I hardly can blame you for it, as that was the intended result. Still, now it’s me keeping my eyes wide and searching for you at every turning, for you’ve been avoiding the usual sick bays, the places we used to encounter one another. 

You’ve taken to teaching classes to the soldiers. It’s a credit to you, Claire. I’ve stood outside the tents and listened to you give your lessons on several occasions. You truly are grand at it, this world of healing and instructing. You have so much in you, Sassenach, so much to give. 

I dinna wish to leave you. 

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

7 June 

God be praised, the Americans stormed the Normandy beaches yesterday. Let this be the breakthrough that changes things, at last. 

1 1 5 6 

Tomorrow. I’ve been given leave to depart tomorrow. 

I’ve thought long and hard about it, Claire. Even if you dinna wish to see me, even if it is only a word and a moment, I shall say farewell face-to-face. 

The sack felt leaden on his shoulders, though he had hardly any possessions to his name.  His old sporran. A change of clothing. His book of letters to Claire. 

This is not the end, he reminded himself over and over. This is naught but the end of a chapter that should not have been opened to begin with. This is not the end. 

The walk across camp felt an eternity, made still worse by the fact that she wasn’t even in the barracks, where she would normally be found at 7:00 of an evening. She wasn’t in the instructional tent. He went to the mess-hall—not there either.

“Jesus, Claire,” he muttered under his breath after a full quarter hour of searching, “where in God’s name have ye gone?

At last, he spotted a familiar face and he all but ran to catch up with her, panting a little as he said, “Excuse me, Miss Nancy?”

Nancy jumped as though he had grabbed her, and it took all his control not to roll his eyes at the flighty wee thing. She never had gotten over that initial fear and loathing for his manner and look. More’s the pity that it hadn’t worked half so well on Claire.

He recovered and gave a cordial bow. “I am most sorry to ‘ave startled you. Would you tell me, please, where I might find Nurse Randall?”

“Whew, um,” Nancy put a dramatic hand on her heaving heart as she blinked and thought. “Oh! Yes, well, she’s not here, of course.”

“Not here?” In his shock, he nearly forgot to put on the French accent. “Where ‘as she gone?”

“She was part of the escort that set out to take those American chaps back.”

“...Ameri—” Then the world was shifting, tumbling, fragments of memory from another war suddenly sparking into horrific clarity. 

“Surely you heard about it? The two Airborne lads that came to us because they got separated from their men after Normandy? They’ve been here for the last week, I can’t believe you haven’t—”

But Jamie wasn’t listening. He was running. 

Of all the things Claire had told him, how could he have failed to recollect THIS?  For today was the day Claire nearly got herself killed by German fire.....the day when Claire could get herself killed by German fire. 

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HAPPY SATURDAY CENTIPEDES 🐛💖🐛💖🐛💖🐛I hope everyone is enjoying this beautiful afternoon! It's your girl /u/Ivaginaryfriend back at it again with another DANK Presidential recap!So sit back, relax, and let us BASK IN THE GLORY OF THIS TRANSPARENT ADMINISTRATION TOGETHER!!!Sunday, December 10th:🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Things are going really well for our economy, a subject the Fake News spends as little time as possible discussing! Stock Market hit another RECORD HIGH, unemployment is now at a 17 year low and companies are coming back into the USA. Really good news, and much more to come!Getting closer and closer on the Tax Cut Bill. Shaping up even better than projected. House and Senate working very hard and smart. End result will be not only important, but SPECIAL!Very little discussion of all the purposely false and defamatory stories put out this week by the Fake News Media. They are out of control - correct reporting means nothing to them. Major lies written, then forced to be withdrawn after they are exposed...a stain on America!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Employed every race and religion on the planet...gets called a racist. The left is full of lies and hatred. DJT is a great man!!Current State of the left.Stop Child Abuse!This is why California goes red in 2018 and 2020.HOLY SHIT!! Don Jr. just nuked Takei from orbit.🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:In honor of us having 538k "official" centipedes, I'm just going to leave this photo of Nate Plastic right here.This Tweet did not age wellSeeing A wild Pede out in the Wild.At Starcucks no less!Man of the year, every year.Just a couple liberals waiting for their daily dose of fake news.Monday, December 11th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Donald J. Trump Will Make America a Leader in Space Exploration AgainRemarks By President Trump and Vice President Pence at Signing Ceremony for Space Policy Directive – 1F.H. Buckley: “GOP tax bill is good for middle-class Americans”Statement from President Donald J. Trump Regarding Today’s Attack in New York CityFour Nominations Sent to the Senate TodayPresidential Memorandum on Reinvigorating America’s Human Space Exploration ProgramText of a Letter from the President to the Speaker of the House of Representatives and the President Pro Tempore of the SenatePresident Donald J. Trump Announces Intent to Nominate Personnel to Key Administration Posts🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Another false story, this time in the Failing @nytimes, that I watch 4-8 hours of television a day - Wrong! Also, I seldom, if ever, watch CNN or MSNBC, both of which I consider Fake News. I never watch Don Lemon, who I once called the “dumbest man on television!” Bad Reporting.SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Wife of demoted DOJ official worked for firm behind anti-Trump dossierLive Thread: Explosion Reported in New YorkMaduro Bans OppositionOh Please No one is going to get murdered.🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:She's at it again.New York ExplosionK...?ALMOST HAD IT!"THE DUMBEST MAN ON TELEVISION!"Tuesday, December 12th:TODAY'S ACTION:Richmond Times-Dispatch: “Bottom line, GOP tax reform’s good for the middle class”President Donald J. Trump will Make the American Military Great AgainRemarks by President Trump at Signing of H.R. 2810, National Defense Authorization Act for FY2018President Donald J. Trump Signs H.R. 2810 and H.R. 4374 into LawState and Local Leaders Push for Tax ReformArmstrong Williams: “Passing tax reform is a task that shouldn’t be taxing”Statement by President Donald J. Trump on H.R. 2810Support For President Trump’s Signing Of The National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA)A Message from President Donald J. Trump on HanukkahChristmas at the White House 2017Readout: Second Lady Karen Pence Visits with Young Patients; Gives Coloring Books and CrayonsPresident Donald J. Trump Announces Intent to Nominate Andrea Thompson to the Department of State🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Despite thousands of hours wasted and many millions of dollars spent, the Democrats have been unable to show any collusion with Russia - so now they are moving on to the false accusations and fabricated stories of women who I don’t know and/or have never met. FAKE NEWS!Lightweight Senator Kirsten Gillibrand, a total flunky for Chuck Schumer and someone who would come to my office “begging” for campaign contributions not so long ago (and would do anything for them), is now in the ring fighting against Trump. Very disloyal to Bill & Crooked-USED!The people of Alabama will do the right thing. Doug Jones is Pro-Abortion, weak on Crime, Military and Illegal Immigration, Bad for Gun Owners and Veterans and against the WALL. Jones is a Pelosi/Schumer Puppet. Roy Moore will always vote with us. VOTE ROY MOORE!Consumer Confidence is at an All-Time High, along with a Record High Stock Market. Unemployment is at a 17 year low. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Working to pass MASSIVE TAX CUTS (looking good).Wishing all of those celebrating #Hanukkah around the world a happy and healthy eight nights in the company of those they love.Congratulations to Doug Jones on a hard fought victory. The write-in votes played a very big factor, but a win is a win. The people of Alabama are great, and the Republicans will have another shot at this seat in a very short period of time. It never ends!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:NEW: Family of NYC terror attack suspect releases statement, saying they’re “outraged” by actions of law enforcementThese 4 officers saw the attempted bomber with wires all over him on the ground and held him down, stopping him from using his cell-phone to cause a 2nd blast. They are heroes.BILL O REILLY: "I have a tape of someone who is anti-Trump offering $200,000 to a woman to accuse Donald Trump of sexual assault"Yeah, uh, no it's fucking not. Regardless of how you feel about Net Neutrality, this is a fucking lie and Reddit needs to be held responsible for their lack of transparency or register as a PAC.DACA needs to go when an illegal with 3.6 GPA scams $185k in scholarships from hardworking American born students.PRESS BRIEFINGS, INTERVIEWS, RALLIES:Press Beating🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:GOD BLESS THE NYPD!Never faltering before the MSM horde. Let's show some love for Sarah: Warrior PrincessSHOTS FIRED by Congressman Steve Smith at Gillibrand [Bill Clinton is a RAPIST!]Buck Sexton rewrites the statement by the failed pipe bomber's family for accuracy.Wednesday, December 13th:TODAY'S ACTION:Alfredo Ortiz: “Tax Bill Is Christmas Present Americans Have Been Waiting For”Final IT Modernization ReportRemarks by President Trump at Lunch with Bicameral Tax ConfereesAmerica Will Once Again Reach for the Moon—and BeyondRemarks by President Trump and American Taxpayers on Tax Reform🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:The reason I originally endorsed Luther Strange (and his numbers went up mightily), is that I said Roy Moore will not be able to win the General Election. I was right! Roy worked hard but the deck was stacked against him!Wow, more than 90% of Fake News Media coverage of me is negative, with numerous forced retractions of untrue stories. Hence my use of Social Media, the only way to get the truth out. Much of Mainstream Meadia has become a joke! @foxandfriendsIf last night’s election proved anything, it proved that we need to put up GREAT Republican candidates to increase the razor thin margins in both the House and Senate.Thank you Omarosa for your service! I wish you continued success.SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Looks like the FBI has been caught planning an investigation of Trump since BEFORE his election purely as an “insurance policy” in case he got into office!Strzok, his Mistress, and (Now) Director McCabe discuss "Insurance Policy preventing Trump PresidencyHappy Hanukkah from President Donald J. Trump🚨🚨 HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! Remember when FBI tried to bribe a Russian Hacker to confess to hacking Hillary's email a while back? Guess what just hit the front page of Reddit!!! 🚨🚨Fake News CNN Anchor Anderson Cooper Calls The President A "Loser," Then Predictably Deletes Tweet, Claims He Was Hacked🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Spicy Ben Garrison. Fake News Chasing Tall TalesNothing to see here, move along.Voter ID requirements need to be Federal law."There’s no way [Trump] gets elected — but I’m afraid we can’t take that risk." -Peter Strzok Deputy Asst Director FBIThursday, December 14th:TODAY'S ACTION:The Closing Argument for Tax ReformPresident Donald J. Trump’s Year of Regulatory Reform and Environmental Protection at the EPAPresident Donald J. Trump is Delivering on DeregulationMerry Christmas from President Donald J. Trump and First Lady Melania TrumpMerry Christmas from Vice President Mike Pence and Second Lady Karen PenceRemarks by President Trump on DeregulationPress Briefing by Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs Administrator Neomi Rao on the Unified Agenda of Regulatory and Deregulatory ActionsReadout of President Donald J. Trump’s Call with President Vladimir Putin of Russia🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Republican Tax Cuts are looking very good. All are working hard. In the meantime, the Stock Market hit another record high!As a candidate, I promised we would pass a massive tax cut for the everyday, working Americans. If you make your voices heard, this moment will be forever remembered as a great new beginning – the dawn of a brilliant American future shining with PATRIOTISM, PROSPERITY AND PRIDE!Today, we gathered in the Roosevelt Room for one single reason: to CUT THE RED TAPE! For many decades, an ever-growing maze of regs, rules, and restrictions has cost our country trillions of dollars, millions of jobs, countless American factories, & devastated entire industries.When Americans are free to thrive, innovate, & prosper, there is no challenge too great, no task too large, & no goal beyond our reach. We are a nation of explorers, pioneers, innovators & inventors. We are nation of people who work hard, dream big, & who never, ever give upIn 1960, there were approximately 20,000 pages in the Code of Federal Regulations. Today there are over 185,000 pages, as seen in the Roosevelt Room. Today, we CUT THE RED TAPE! It is time to SET FREE OUR DREAMS and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!“Manufacturing Optimism Rose to Another All-Time High in the Latest @ShopFloorNAM Outlook Survey”(Retweeting Ronna McDaniel) .@realDonaldTrump is the Paycheck President. Learn how the tax bill will put more money in your pocket & how to contact Democrats who are trying to stop it: http://paycheckpresident.comSIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:THROWBACK THURSDAY Reddit advocates "Net Neutrality" by conspiring numerous subs to push the same Red Image but censors T_D from /all for the last year because they dont like opposing viewpoints. Repealing Title II allows a freer internet-Reddit’s against that (they didnt even read the bill). Sad!The battle for Net Neutrality is over! The companies that spent hundreds of millions shilling to trick the public into supporting their agenda have LOST! Just like magic all the hysteria will disappear.HIS NEW STORY: His assistant left his phone “UNSUPERVISED” at the gym and some mystery person tweeted POTUS. Got it. Makes complete sense, definitely not FAKE NEWS.Based regulation slayer Ajit Pai TROLLS THE SHIT out of snowflake Soros NN shills. Shitposting has become an art form! TENDIES EVERYWHERE!Did He Just Say on Live T.V. that They Came from Another STATE to Vote in Alabama's Election?!? ~ This is Important: Being DownvotedPRESS BRIEFINGS, INTERVIEWS, RALLIES:Press Beating🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:(unemployed noises)NEW TRUMP TWEET ON NET NEUTRALITY REPEALJapanAnon mocks people saying Japan needs to accept immigrants to survive.Donald Trump Jr. Journalism is DeadJuanita Broaddrick: Why did I support President Trump?Friday, December 15th:TODAY'S ACTION:Remarks by President Trump Before Marine One DepartureIt’s Time To End Chain MigrationRemarks by President Trump at FBI National Academy Graduation CeremonyRemarks by President Trump to Marine Helicopter Squadron One🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:It was my honor. THANK YOU!To each member of the graduating class from the National Academy at Quantico, CONGRATULATIONS!You are always there for us – THE MEN AND WOMEN IN BLUE. Thank you to our police, thank you to our sheriffs, and thank you to our law enforcement families. God Bless you all, and GOD BLESS AMERICA! #LESMToday, it was my tremendous honor to visit Marine Helicopter Squadron One (HMX-1) at the Marine Corps Air Facility in Quantico, Virginia. I am honored to serve as your Commander-in-Chief. On behalf of an entire Nation, THANK YOU for your sacrifice and service. We love you!DOW, S&P 500 and NASDAQ close at record highs! #MAGA(Retweeting Sarah Sanders) .@POTUS historic tax cuts + doubling of the child tax credit will do infinitely more to empower working moms than liberals' personal attacks on women they disagree with ever will.(Retweeting Paul Ryan) For individuals and families, the final Tax Cuts & Jobs Act: ✔lowers individual taxes ✔nearly doubles the standard deduction ✔expands the Child Tax Credit ✔repeals Obamacare’s individual mandate ✔preserves the mortgage interest deduction(Retweeting Rep Krisi Noem) A lot of tough decisions got us to this point, but we’re closer than we’ve been in 30+ years to a fairer tax code that keeps more money in the pockets of hardworking Americans. Proud to sign my name to the Conference Report. READ THE BILL>> http://noem.house.gov/taxreformGreat job Kevin, we are all proud of you!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:TICK TOCK BOOM! Lisa Bloom offered women hundreds of thousands of "donor" cash to accuse Trump"Eric Trump Posted A Picture in the Oval Office That Nearly Broke the Internet." [in a good way]"Real talk: The only reason John McCain hasn't resigned yet, given his condition and mountain corruption scandals, is because in AZ, resigning senators have their replacement chosen by the governor. And our governor was an early Trump Supporter."IT'S OFFICIAL: WE HIT 4% GDP GROWTH! PRESIDENT TRUMP IS MAKING AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!Rahm Emmanuel declares Chicago a "Trump Free Zone". How about you make it a "Murder Free Zone" instead because 630 people have already been killed this year, Mayor🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:They're with her.Here we see a wounded and weak candidate. Sensing its weakness, the strong bull offers it as sacrifice for the safety of the nation.WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUBNo Thanks.Saturday, December 16th:🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Congratulations to two great and hardworking guys, Corey Lewandowski and David Bossie, on the success of their just out book, “Let Trump Be Trump.” Finally people with real knowledge are writing about our wonderful and exciting campaign!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:HOLY SHIT! The Lisa Bloom "accuser" she was texting with who abruptly cancelled the press conference was the same girl that also sued Jeffrey Epstein! Was this a STING OPERATION? They were trying to frame Trump w/ Epstein and got caught! These people really are stupid -- HOLY FUCK!!THE FACE YOU MAKE WHEN for 14 years you had one of the highest rated shows on television, got bored and decided to create the GREATEST and HIGHEST rated reality show the world has ever seen. Oh and you save America and Western Civilization in the process.But Trump is the bad guy. insane.🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Life comes at you fast media cucks.Legendary Japanese wrestler The Great Sasuke dressed as The Great Trump. He cut a promo to the Tokyo crowd saying "TPP is Bullshit" before fighting Rocket Man.REMINDER: SIKHS ARE OUR ALLIES AND FRIENDSSOOOOOOO MUCH WINNING!What's a recap without a couple jams to help you get through it!One Man Can Change The WorldThe New Workout PlanDoing it Right - Daft PunkLana's ThemeOnly OneFamousGold Dust - Flux Pavillion RemixBulletproof - La RouxMAGA THE FUCK ON PATRIOTS!! via /r/The_Donald

hi guys it’s 10:30 i was looking at comics. i really like comics.

i woke up on time. i somehow ended up getting to the office actually late though? i’m not sure where the time went. maybe i spent too long making breakfast, i dunno.

i taught my class. one student told me she had been in one of my classmates’ sections the other week. i remember taylor told me about that. i kinda knew who it had been right away. not sure why she’s such a huge sammie fan. i told her i wanted to cut my hair but i’d leave it long enough for bows because bows are “kind of my look now i guess.” she said it was definitely my look. 

i had one student who was real concerned about his grade. i felt like i’d been real unfair to him... i helped him out this week by looking through his lab report and making sure he had answered all the questions and i caught one mistake for him. i can’t just give him a 100, but... i understand that he’s putting in effort and i want to reward that but i also need to be fair to my other students and i ALSO need to hit a certain grade average or else people who earned an a are going to be assigned b.

at the end of the class the girl asked who my favorite student was (highly implying it should be her). i said i like each of them equally. she pushed me further so i grinned and said i couldn’t pick favorites, but i also couldn’t lie to her. she thought i was gonna compliment her but instead i said they are all my favorites. the girl at the table behind us smirked.

i WANT to give them all an a. but suzanne does that and she really had to crank up her grade thresholds, which i find really unfair to the students. it’s kind of unfair to force the class average to be a certain number even if the students are genuinely doing well. but i also understand that it’s to try to account for all of us having different teaching styles and skills and grading preferences. they basically turn us loose on these poor undergraduates with no training other than “we have done the lab ourselves.”

anyway after that i went to my appointment with the care area. we got my medical drop paperwork finalized and sent a last thing to my professor, who needs to sign off on my dropped course approval. and... annie told me it’s done, as much as i have control over at least. i have no more work to do on this “project.” i feel... too open-ended, i guess. it’s disorienting to work toward a goal and then actually reach it, and in a really timely manner too. annie complimented how well i’ve handled everything. i gave her a list of the steps i’ve taken to improve my situation and she asked some questions. i think i was mostly just talking though and then we spent like 15 minutes trying to fix her computer so she could send the email to my professor. i didn’t have to make a follow up appointment, but i let her know i’d call and schedule something if a problem came up with my tuition waiver or if my meeting with the individual therapist didn’t go well so we could get me set up with the counseling center for next semester.

then i biked over to the pharmacy and picked up my meds. i googled my therapist just to confirm the address and then hopped on a bus over to the other side of town! i had to bike up a big old hill and then i got to where google said her office would be. 

it was a law firm. i checked that her name was correct. it was. the person at the desk there was extremely confused. i got sent next door to an in-house care specialist and that wasn’t right either. they sent me to the other side of the parking lot to the autism center. i asked them what was going on and the lady behind the counter there googled the therapist and found the same exact address i did. 

i scrolled through my phone texts trying to figure out what the problem was and then i realized that the insurance web site had given a different address than google. her actual office is 17 blocks north of my apartment complex, which was on the other other side of town. i was gonna cry.

i hustled back down to the bus stop and caught the bus headed the other way. FORTUNATELY i had left for the office just over an hour early so i still had 15 minutes before i was gonna be late. i called karin and told her what had happened. i also learned how to put my bike on the front of the bus, which was an adventure and ended up with me getting whacked in the back of the head by my own handlebars. and also taking a tire to my shirt more than once. my good ice cream shirt that i had just given a stain treatment.

it looks like it’s fine but i was unhappy about the road dirt getting under my fingernails and everything.

it took a half hour to get across town and sprint-bike up the 17 blocks to her office. i don’t think i’ve biked that fast in my life and i even kept hitting red lights.

her name wasn’t on the office sign at the side of the road marking the address. i frowned. there were cats at the back door on the porch. they were nice enough but i didn’t have time to stop to pet them. i was 15 minutes late.

inside there was a bunch of the typical crystal healing stuff. i saw a flyer for “lymph drainage cleansing” or something like that. that put me on edge a little bit, considering the last therapist i had who was into that stuff back in march.

karin herself was eager to get down business though. i filled out a page of paperwork and got my insurance squared away. i ran through a list of current problems i was having (lack of energy, mostly, and having a hard time managing to get stuff done with what energy i do have) and what i was doing about them. she asked if there were any other ways i could streamline my homework/grading process and i didn’t have any ideas right then. i talked about my family a little bit and told her my mother and brother were coming to visit next wednesday. she said she’d really like to see me again before that happens so i’m seeing her again in a week. i like her well enough for now.

we only got to talk for a half hour but she let me fill out the majority of my paperwork after the appointment instead. the writing was so blurred and tiny that i had trouble figuring out what some of the questions were and had to cross out initial answers when i figured out what this or that word was. then i groaned because i realized my backpack and everything in it were still back at the office. so i biked the 30 blocks back to campus, sat around feeling exhausted, had a snack, and then came back home at around 7 (...?), which was way longer than i wanted to take. i was so tired, trying to get up the hill on the way home. even getting to the second stoplight was just... i was out of breath.

i notice that i can make way sharper left turns than right turns. i wonder what’s up with that.

when i got home i made myself some dinner, and made my pasta salad for the rest of the week, and changed out snoopy’s litter box. publix only sells the disposable ones so i got a replacement last weekend... while i was out by the trash chute i looked out over the courtyard. it was a little chilly. hard to remember i live in the middle of florida, with the cold nibbling at my arms. the tall buildings across the street looked surreal. the whole courtyard was so empty i had trouble remembering how many people live here. i caught someone using the elliptical in the gym through the window though so at least there was one human in my field of vision. 

after that i watched one youtube video i had bookmarked earlier (out of the four- three are gonna be reasonably watchable, the last one is like an hour long and i don’t think i’ll be able to get to it for a long while), and the rest of the night was COMMENTARY!! AND COMICS!!!

(like an hour.)

i let my leisure time cut into my journal writing/bed time though. i just don’t feel like i have enough of it to really feel like i relaxed or took some time to myself every day. like a full time job is eight hours a day, five days a week. grad school has been 9-11 hours a day, 6 days a week. some weeks, six and a half days. and... i know that grad school is hard and i’m not supposed to have free time. but like... i need to rest, you know? my body and my brain are falling apart.

while i was at my office hour in the lab help session today jennica came in to hang out. i told her that i don’t know how they do it. how they get all the homework done even when they only start on the last possible day. she said they just don’t sleep. i said i don’t really have that option and she said “you’re a grad student, you don’t get sleep any more.”

i said “if i don’t sleep enough every night i literally will die.” 

she thought i was joking so i told her if i don’t get enough sleep for too long i start seeing weird stuff that freaks me out and i hurt myself. she said oh. it was... part of why i wasn’t doing well at villanova my first two years of college. the second year it was more because of irregular sleep than lack of it. and, you know, everything else that was going wrong with my life.

i think i burned myself out in high school really bad. like i thought i was young and springy and i didn’t NEED to sleep, i had so many other fun things to do!! internet people to talk to!!! stories to write!!!! i was lucky to get five hours of sleep most nights. i did that for like three years. most nights. things didn’t start getting spooky until my body straight up quit one morning and i almost passed out at our morning assembly. i had to go to the hospital for a few hours and get checked out and everything. the doctor told me i wasn’t drinking enough and that i had to take a whole day doing nothing but drinking tons of fruit juice and gatorade and water. 

after that i carried a water bottle around everywhere. i still do. it helps me remember to stay hydrated.

but the sleeping problems persisted through undergrad. it gets kinda rough trying to rest at my parents’ house too. and it really did wear out my health for several years straight after those first few years of high school. but i’m doing way better now.

but apparently grad students don’t get to sleep i guess? 

my anxiety really does stay under control way better when i get regular sleep though. eight hours is ideal, seven hours is... ok for maybe five days and then it gets bad. i don’t get much more out of nine hours than i do eight... and i need every extra hour of being awake i can get.

i dunno. one good thing today is that when i was resting at the office before trying to tackle the ride home, i was talking to luis about homework i guess. rebika keeps asking if i’ve finished the homework the day before it’s due and it’s like, rebika, i am still three weeks behind, please stop. i told her something like that finally, i said something like i’d get it done when i could and i was keeping the professors informed. she asked if she could do that too and i asked what steps she was taking to remedy her situation. she said none and taylor joked that that would be too responsible. he kinda glanced at me when he said that.

it’s just, it’s nice to get the feeling that my classmates have faith in me. that they believe i am working hard with the resources i have, even though i don’t feel that way. you can say you don’t care what other people think all you want, but it is a genuine relief to know that most of them know i’m doing my best and believe that. not having the silent judgment of my peers hanging over my head is a relief to me. 

i can take rebika’s judgment. she doesn’t pay enough attention for her opinion to mean much to me, even if i care about her wellbeing. luis seems to be suffering from even more intense lethargy than i do but he just doesn’t sleep i guess. i don’t usually check in with his homework situation because it stresses me out to talk about it. he’s also just really good at physics and picks up homework concepts faster than i do.

he said his grades aren’t as good as i think they are. taylor’s aren’t either. he watches a lot of anime in the office. suzanne also said her grades aren’t as good as i probably think they are. we had a conversation about the american education system as compared to, say, europe’s. like ioannis just knows all this stuff already and he gets fantastic grades. some of us (like harrison) know some of the material from undergrad, but for people like me, from fricking arizona, even the beginning of these courses was essentially new. suzanne said that being an american physics undergraduate just does not put you at the level that phd students should be at. and when you have your phd you’re still not at the level you should be at, which is why postdocs end up happening for so long i guess.

anyway. i’ve been a little cagey with my friends about what i’ve been doing, spending so much time out of the office, but it’s good to know that they, sort of, understand, maybe indirectly. like they look at me and seem to see me working hard, even though i don’t feel like i am and i feel like i spend a lot of time slacking off. (an entire half hour!!! oh no!!!!!!!)

i can’t know what they REALLY think, of course, but their behavior and wording suggest they are supportive.

An Introduction

Hello all, and welcome to the beginning of my blog! If you’re looking for some info about me or what I’m doing, you can head on over to my about page where I’ve written out a brief explanation of who I am and what I’m doing this year. In short, I’m an English language assistant in a few public schools in the southwest of France, centered around the town of Angoulême. This blog is meant to capture my experiences over the coming school year.

If you are wondering what sort of content you might expect to see on this blog, look no further! For the moment, my plan is to update with a text post (like this one, for example) about once a week. The post could be about what has been happening to me in the past week, what has been on my mind, fun things I’ve been doing with students, or anything else that I feel encapsulates my experience here. The post below is a little longer than I’d like these posts to be, but I thought it appropriate to write more considering how quickly things have happened in the past few days.

Between text posts, I intend to post a photo every day. The photo may not always have been taken on the same day, but I’ll try my best to upload something current. If I feel some explanation is necessary I might write something brief about what the photo depicts, but those posts will be much shorter than the text posts.

Finally, before I get into my first real update: if you ever have any questions or comments about what I’m doing, or maybe a suggestion about something you’d like to see me write about or take a photo of, feel free to drop me a line via the mailbox, linked here or conveniently located to the left side of the page.

Muscat grapes in the supermarket and escargots for dinner - French enough for you?

Tuesday, 9/26/17

Well, I’m finally here - I arrived in Paris on Saturday morning, stayed there through Sunday, then left on the train to get to Angoulême on Monday afternoon. I’ve spent all of about one day here so far, and it seems like a pretty cozy town! For this week, my mom has been generous enough to come with me and help my lug my suitcases around France - she’s a very selfless person. I will definitely miss that help when I embark on other journeys during school breaks - although I really hope to avoid ever carrying so much luggage again.

In any case, let’s back up a few days to our arrival in Paris. The airport was, as it almost always seems to be, a test of patience; we waited in the customs line for well over an hour before finally getting through. Fortunately, we had had the foresight to book a taxi in advance to take us to our hotel in the Latin quarter, an undertaking far preferable to bringing six large suitcases through the RER (Paris commuter train). Once we arrived at the hotel around 10:00, neither of us wanted anything more than simply to give in to our bodies begging us to sleep but unfortunately we had resolved to stay awake the whole day to avoid the worst of jet lag and unfortunatlier still, we wouldn’t be able to check in for another four hours. So, having left our heavy burden in hotel storage, we set out to walk the streets of Paris. We ended up mostly exploring the 3rd arrondissement, heading up to the place des Vosges to buy some tea at Damman Frères (highly recommended!), eating lunch at a café on the rue de Rivoli and walking past sites such as the Musée Carnavalet (a museum about the history of Paris) and the tour Saint-Jacques. Eventually, we found dinner and slept heavily all through the night.

A cute - and somewhat kitschy - café in the 5th arrondissement

Sunday was somewhat calmer than Saturday. Beginning the day with a mass at Notre Dame, we had had grand plans to follow that up with visits to both the medieval Musée de Cluny to see the famous series of tapestries known as La Dame à la licorne, or “The Lady and the Unicorn” as well as to the Mémorial de la Shoah, or Holocaust memorial, which contains many extraordinarily meaningful and excruciatingly heartbreaking exhibits. After seeing several placards on the right bank on Sunday in parts of the old Jewish quarter memorializing individuals who were arrested in those very buildings - schools, offices, and homes alike - and deported, “by French police officers complicit in the Nazi occupation,” as some of these signs remarked, we felt it would be important to visit a place dedicated to all those whose lives were unjustly extinguished by a government rife with hatred and xenophobia and lacking in self-reflection and empathy. The exhibits in Cluny took much longer than we had thought, however, and we were not able to make it to the Mémorial de la Shoah before it closed for the day. That evening, we found dinner on the rue Mouffetard, a street filled with little restaurants that provides an escape from the constant crowds, noise, and tourist traps of the Quartier latin.

7th-century Visigothic decorative crowns at the Musée Cluny

On Monday we elected to visit a church before departing, and so we walked over to the Église Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais. This church is known for two things: firstly, a tragedy on Good Friday in 1918 in which a German artillery shell fell onto and collapsed the roof during a service, killing 88 civilians; and secondly, a family of musicians known by the name Couperin, including the composer François Couperin; the Couperins were organists at Saint-Gervais for more than two centuries and significant portions of the organ date from that period. After that quick stop, we boarded the TGV (Train à grande vitesse, or “High-Speed Train” - a very inventive name) in the direction of Bordeaux and almost exactly two hours later arrived in Angoulême. The rest of Monday was spent getting set up in the apartment we had rented out for the week and poking our heads around the main downtown drag. Angoulême is a relatively small town that overlooks the idyllic landscape around it from atop a hill.

Looking down from the top of the hill

Today began with a breakfast of tea, baguette and jam, and a pain au chocolat (what might be called a “chocolate croissant” back in the US; this, however, is an abomination of language for the French). I’ll take this over a bowl of cereal any day. After breakfast, I did more exploring of Angoulême on foot and later joined up with another assistant who will also be working at the Lycée Guez de Balzac (quick note: lycée in France is roughly comparable to high school in the US). The two of us talked for hours about our concerns with starting on Monday, what we are excited to do, and everything else that has been on our minds leading up to the beginning of our posts. While we chatted, we shared with each other what we knew of Angoulême and walked up and down the town – quite literally, considering the topography of the place (I’ve been reconsidering my idea to buy a bicycle). In the end, we said au revoir and parted ways for the evening. I’m very excited to meet more of the assistants in the area, not to mention the teachers and students I’ll be working with!

A nighttime view looking out over the valley

One of the main takeaways from my first few days in France is the realization of how much more I’ve been walking - it’s something I always find when I travel abroad, but the knowledge that it will happen never seems to make my feet hurt any less. Stay tuned for my next text update, which I hope to write next week after I’ve begun in both of my schools, as well as for the daily photo updates I’ll be posting!

New Post has been published on https://warmdevs.com/trustworthiness-in-web-design-4-credibility-factors.html

Trustworthiness in Web Design: 4 Credibility Factors

While in Singapore for our UX Conference, we conducted a usability study to investigate major differences between how Western and Asian cultures evaluate websites — and, by extension, businesses. While there were some interesting cultural nuances, the basic factors used to weigh site trustworthiness were the same, regardless of location and culture.

In 1999 Jakob Nielsen listed 4 ways in which a website can communicate trustworthiness: design quality, up-front disclosure, comprehensive and current content, and connection to the rest of the web. In our study, we observed that these very same factors continue to influence users. This is yet another example of the durability of usability guidelines: although design patterns and trends change over time, human behavior does not. Users’ priorities and methods of evaluation are the same today as they were 17 years ago, even though the web itself has vastly evolved. What we now consider a “quality” website design looks very different from a reputable website of the past, but what influences the perception of quality has not changed and will not change in the future.

This article delves into the original 4 methods of communicating trustworthiness, and provides examples of how these principles apply to today’s websites.

Design Quality

The first step to garnering trust is to make your site appear legitimate and professional. Both the landing-page content and the main navigation must be well organized and the site should use an appropriate color scheme and imagery.

Site organization. Meaningful navigation labels indicate that the company considers users’ needs and understands their mental models and vocabulary. When people are faced with clever or nondescript category names, they may not be able to determine whether the relevant content exists on the site. As a result, they will become frustrated and may abandon the site. In contrast, when the links unambiguously point users in the right direction, they will feel confident and will trust your company.

Visual design. The standard for what is considered a well-designed site constantly shifts in response to trends that eventually become the norm. For example, perhaps young adults consider flat designs as more professional than older audiences simply because they use more websites that have adopted a minimalist style, and have adjusted their expectations over time.

Color schemes used on the website greatly affect the perceived value of the business, and can brand an organization as corporate, budget, or luxury. Ideally, the colors chosen should match the type of service and impart some meaning — for instance, Singapore participants were drawn to cleaning companies that used green or a lot of white space in their designs because those matched their idea of what is natural, fresh and clean. In contrast, dark colors made the site appear more cluttered — and clutter is not what you would want from a cleaning company! Even companies not striving to match any particular color meaning should use colors strategically to support the tone of the organization. For example, including adequate white space adds to the perception that content is well organized. In our study, BoxGreen snack boxes were more appealing than those from GuiltFree because of the site’s colorful high-quality images and wise use of empty space that allowed those images to stand out without cluttering the overall look and feel.

4 out of the 5 participants who compared monthly snack-box services chose BoxGreen.co (left) over competitor GuiltFree.sg (right). They judged that website as more attractive and informational, and considered the pictures, fonts, and colors more appealing. When—as with these two sites—the prices and offerings are fairly similar between two companies, the design of each website becomes a major deciding factor.

Typos, broken links, and other mistakes quickly degrade credibility and communicate an overall lack of attention to detail. Upon noticing a misspelled word on the homepage of a large moving company in Singapore, one user stated, “I see a spelling error here: they’re not very detailed I guess. This is their face to the world; this is big stuff that they need to take care of … just some simple stuff like that can change my impression, can change my feelings toward all of them.”

Upfront Disclosure

You wouldn’t trust someone who’s hiding something from you, would you? On the web, like in real life, people appreciate when sites are upfront with all information that relates to the customer experience. This includes details such as prominently displaying contact information (a good place is in the utility navigation), documenting what is included in a base cost, stating any additional fees or charges that may accompany a service, presenting links to the return policy and guarantees, or revealing shipping charges before asking for billing information. When sites omitted basic information, they were almost immediately ruled out of consideration in favor of more upfront sites. One user spent only 35 seconds browsing the cleaning website HomeCleanz before she declared, “I would definitely not use HomeCleanz because they don’t state the rate here, they want us to actually write to them. So I feel they are not open enough.”

Depending on the type of industry, being upfront with information can extend beyond these basics. For example, when comparing several courier services, users expected to see estimated delivery windows in addition to pricing information — just as you would expect to see an estimated pickup time before you actually request a Lyft or Uber. The same was true of grocery-delivery companies: prospective customers want to know how quickly food would be delivered, and see information about what would happen if they weren’t home during the day to receive it. FAQ pages were frequently visited to look for answers to such information.

Making this important information easy to access on the website adds to a feeling of transparency, and shows that you understand your customers. Be aware though, that while users want to uncover possible hidden fees, they hate if they have to fill in lengthy forms to obtain that information. While a detailed quote form may provide a more specific price to the user, the interaction cost is too high: in the words of one participant regarding a moving company website, “I just want a quick quote, I hate having to key in all these particular details.” In such cases, it is okay to sacrifice some specificity and only provide ranges of costs, as long as all the relevant line items (tax, shipping fees, minimums, etc.) are exposed.

Login walls and gated content are other examples of how a website may not seem upfront with its users. Asking for information before providing any value is a breach of trust: asking for too much too soon means you don’t get anything because users leave instead of answering. Even creating the perception of a gate to content can degrade trust and turn users away: several participants visiting the grocery-delivery site honestbee wondered why had to sign up for an account in order to view any content on the site. In fact, the site was asking for an address in order to display participating stores in the area, but the prominent address form and call to Sign Up left a negative impression.

honestbee.com: Participants immediately questioned why they had to enter an address before viewing content. Asking for personal information before allowing users to explore is the opposite of being upfront, and degrades trust.

Comprehensive, Correct, and Current

Thorough information related to the business exudes expertise and authority. In our study, users appreciated sites that contained a large amount of relevant content because it showed that the organization was well informed and committed to helping its customers. For example, participants favorably noted moving companies that presented moving tips such as how to best pack boxes to prepare for the movers.

It is also imperative that service sites display photos from all stages of the service, not merely the end result. When evaluating cleaning services, people wanted to see not only photos of clean rooms, but also images of the actual cleaning process and who would be doing the cleaning. Especially for industries that require a large amount of trust from potential customers — you are inviting a stranger into your home, after all — users want to get a better understanding of whom they will do business with. Generic photos of already clean rooms or other end results are more likely to be considered filler images rather than useful content and thus ignored.

UniHomeCleaning.com.sg: Participants commented that the website only displayed photos of clean places and not of the actual cleaning process. Although this was not a deal breaker for the site (which did include text explaining what services were included), people appreciated competitors’ photos that showed actual cleaners in homes and they spent time looking at those photos.

Most importantly, the content on the website must represent the full range of services or products offered by the organization, or it risks alienating those users looking for the less featured items. For example, people looking for home movers were put off by companies that appeared to mostly cater to commercial relocations but also handle residential moves. Even though participants found the relevant content on the site and understood that the company did offer the right service for them, the overall lack of house photos, of testimonials from homeowners, and of other supporting content left the impression that the company did not value that line of business as much as its corporate customers. Similarly, cleaning services that only showed photos of high-end residences or large office spaces turned away those people living in smaller homes. No one wants to feel like a second-rate customer.

HomeCleanz.com: The Portfolio page only showed large condo complexes and office buildings, so users questioned how often the company actually worked with smaller residences.

Connected to the Rest of the Web

Today, businesses and their websites cannot live in a vacuum. When researching products and services people do not rely solely on one website to glean information about its credibility and reliability, but instead look for external, unbiased sources. An isolated website that does not link to and cannot be found on third-party review sites, social media, or news outlets appears to either have something to hide or not be a fully established, stable company.

(Even if you don’t have an omnichannel user-experience strategy, your customers employ an omnichannel approach to their information seeking.)

Due to the sheer amount of social media and review sites available, people have learned to trust these external sources more than company-sponsored content. Several participants in our study commented that while they do research online for various services, they are distrustful of sites or services that weren’t recommended by friends or family or at least other people on the web — regardless of how beautiful the website may be. One participant explained, “Whenever I choose a company to work with, I make sure I know them well. So it has to be a company [that I can see others use]. It would be good if they have customer reviews, maybe a media [press release].”

Every participant in our study stated that they would read reviews before deciding which company to hire. When it comes to reviews, people trust testimonials from external sites more than those listed on the website itself. Participants liked quotes and case studies displayed on the company website, but they regarded them with a healthy dose of skepticism, wondered if the stories were true, and noted that the website would of course include only positive reviews. So, while reviews and testimonials are useful, it is more important to have a presence on external review sites. Linking to these outside sources shows you are transparent and confident about your service.

Conclusion

The 4 factors of trustworthiness are important to every website, and have remained stable for decades. Even though the specifics of how to meet these trust guidelines have evolved over time, the underlying principles still stay valid. This is why it is always important to see the why behind design guidelines rather than blindly applying them. By understanding why people care about design quality, upfront disclosure of information, comprehensive content, and a connection to the rest of the web, you can adapt to new expectations and new web-design styles.

Learn more about credibility and establishing trust in our full-day training course on Persuasive Web Design.