by

Catching Up With Fate

kuroba-k:

Kaito had always appreciated his work clothes at the hospital, it provided free movement and was rather practical. Unlike the nurse’s, his trousers were a dark blue, loose fitting, accompanied by a white polo shirt sporting the hospital logo and he was allowed to wear trainers. The room he usually worked in was on the smaller side, but provided enough space for a little desk, a shaft full of clean laundry, a shelf with different kinds of paddings and a few small weights. He had a little stool with wheels and in the middle of it was the therapy bed. The white walls were decorated with a few posters showing models of bones and muscles and next to the desk hung a small light box, providing him with the chance to recheck X-ray and other images.

A few minutes ago a nurse had come by, handing him a folder with a new patient’s files. The guy had been treated by a different therapist so far but that department didn’t quite have the equipment for further rehabilitation and this one would need a full program. Kaito mentally booked the gym and thanked her, smiling. His superior knew that he liked working in the gym and he was grateful that he often was assigned to patients needing it.
He was a surprised when he flipped open the file, after the nurse left again, not having expected a name he knew. Especially not this particular name, he’d thought Hakuba went back to England and stayed there. For a moment he wondered if he should redirect the detective to another therapist, telling the office that he knew Hakuba and wasn’t sure if the man would feel comfortable with him, due to some missunderstandings they had at school. But that was years ago and they were squabbling all the time, not fighting. So, this was worth a try.
Professionally it was definitely worth the case. He’d studied the files for quite some time and started to edge out a few treatment ideas that would have to be narrowed down or perhaps even discarded after he’d seen and examined Hakuba, but he just liked having some ideas ready.

Hakuba’s appointment was first thing next day, so he got the room ready for examination when he got in and sat down to look at the most recent X-ray again while waiting for his patient.

Nothing had changed about Hakuba being a morning person throughout the years, even after the drastic changes in his life in the previous one. But two factors made it significantly more difficult and time-consuming, and these he tried to push into the back of his mind as he drove to his appointment through rush hour traffic.

Met with little to no success, the fretting detective made his way into the office by way of crutches, in no mood to put on a cheerful face for rabble around him. His leg hurt, his head hurt, he was tired, and having to get physical therapy at 22 was not something he enjoyed.

His last therapist had been so condescending. Every encouraging word dripped with sickly-sweet forced enthusiasm that Hakuba had to wonder if she’d secretly been trying to make his condition worse. Or, she just thought he was stupid. Either way, it hadn’t helped. He was still in pain, still unable to put weight on that leg, and still unable to work, which was the biggest detriment of all. And he had so little hope that this next person would be any better.

Sighing, he checked in at the front desk, shifting the crutches to one arm so that he could sign the appropriate paperwork, then managed to take a seat in the waiting area only to be called back almost instantly. Although he was grateful that he wouldn’t have to wait an ungodly amount of time for his appointment – which he’d taken great pains to be punctual for – the whole process of sitting down and standing up with his leg in that state made him cross. He should have just waited while standing, but then… that sounded exhausting, too.

Soon, he was brought to the office where he was to meet his therapist who, once the nurse opened the door to, looked startlingly familiar. Hakuba stared as he was ushered into the room, crutching all at once more awkwardly, near stumbling. Was it…? Could it really be…? 

image

“K-Kuroba-kun?” A pause. “Ah, Kuroba-san?" 

by

Voice acting meme! Send a number and I’ll record my muse saying a movie quote-

rpmememaker:

  1. “I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
  2. “He bangs his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts.”
  3. “I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
  4. “Fasten your seatbelts, this is gonna be a bumpy ride.”
  5. “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!”
  6. “A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.”
  7. “I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.”
  8. “Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary.”
  9. “You want the truth?! You can’t handle the truth!”
  10. “Heeeeeeere’s Johnny!”
  11. “I’m here to kick ass and chew bubblegum. And I’m all out of bubblegum.”
  12. “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.”
  13. “If you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you’d have a diamond.”
  14. “Oh, it’s a big pretty white plane with red stripes, curtains in the windows and wheels and it looks like a big Tylenol.”
  15. “It’s Halloween, everyone’s entitled to one good scare.”
  16. “We all go a little mad sometimes.”
  17. “There’s a monster outside my room, can I have a glass of water?”
  18. “What an excellent day for an exorcism.”
  19. “And then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife 10 times.”
  20. Wild card- a phrase of your choosing!
by

Bloody Moriarty

thelotusflowerfiles:

Mornings had always been difficult for the detective. Shinichi rolled over and struck his hand out from underneath the covers the snatch his phone. As it disappeared under the covers he sat up to look at it. 

It WAS Hakuba who had text him so late last night. Yawning Shinichi climbed out of his bed and made his way down stairs to start coffee. it luckily wasn’t that early for him to be awake but after getting about two hours of sleep he was a little more than upset.

[text:] As one who does this as a training challenge I can understand. If you don’t mind I’m going to save you to my contacts to avoid further confusion.

Sighing he finished off his coffee and began to start his morning routine.

Relieved though he was that Shinichi didn’t appear upset (oh, little did he know), Hakuba wondered why he hadn’t added him to his contacts already. After all, he’d provided his phone number… but then, perhaps Kudou had never intended for them to exchange numbers at all. He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed by that, but… he also couldn’t blame him. Shinichi was, after all, a celebrity.

Or used to be. He wasn’t entirely certain where he fit these days. 

[text] Yes, please do. Is tomorrow at 3 o’clock still viable?

He set the phone on his lap and turned his attention back to the dog as she chased her own tail, barking like mad. Laughing, he went back to his tea. Whatever would he do without her?

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito sat back and looked over to Baaya. Wearing a sheepish grin and a laugh he got off Hakuba and offered a hand to him. “What’s this about a cake, Baaya-chan?”

Hakuba took the offered hand and got to his feet, dusting himself off afterward while Baaya answered the question, smirking. It was all too amusing for her, but she wasn’t the least bit surprised at what she’d walked in on. Well, other than that she’d heard yelling and harsh words, but she was well-aware that her charge was a passionate one, and his choice in guest was the same.

“Oh,” Baaya shrugged, turning around to lead them – if they chose to follow – to the parlor. “The Young Master wanted to bake a cake for his guest. He worked very hard on it.”

“Baaya…”  Hakuba ran a hand over his face, grimacing. “You really didn’t need to give that detail. And, ah, anyway, I need to lock up my room… I’ll catch up?" 

Quote by

Think about it: We read fiction not just to see ourselves but also to imagine ourselves as we might be. When we recognize ourselves in the characters of a novel, we are gratified. We identify with them. But that is just the beginning. If self-recognition is all we wanted from fiction, we would be satisfied with letters, journals and statistical surveys of the population at large. But we are not satisfied with those things.
We crave stories, particularly the intensely intimate form of story called the novel. That is because a novel, uniquely among art forms, presents powerful points of view, strong conflicts and a helping of human life that affirms a higher truth. Characters in breakout fiction may seem realistic, even average, but they are bigger than their circumstances. They do not just suffer, but strive. They do not practice patience, but act. They do not merely survive, but endure.

Donald Mass, Writing the Breakout Novel  (via gabapplewrites)
by

Bloody Moriarty

thelotusflowerfiles:

Shinichi heard his phone chime and looked up from the research book. He slipped off his glasses and tossed them on to the desk along with the book and crossed over to the table. After rummaging through the documents he found it under the fifth file and above the autopsy photos.

A text? He swiped his phone keypad and unlocked it. An unknown number usually meant one of two things. His mother was using a payphone or a hotels or a certain thief that liked to send cryptic riddles and puzzles. Opening it he found that it was nether. Eyes narrowing he hesitated over the text bar.

[text]: who is this?

Alas, poor Shinichi; once Hakuba was out, he was completely out until well into the next morning. Friday found him with a cold, wet nose digging under his palm, then a tongue licking his face. He blinked, groggy, and pushed away from the wriggling dog with a half laugh, half whimper. “God, Twig, what the bloody hell are you doing?”

She responded by stretching out on her belly, front paws batting at his face while her undocked tail waved back and forth eagerly.

“You’ve been stuck in here all night, haven’t you? All right, all right… I’m getting up." 

It took him a while to get out of bed and dressed enough to take her outside, but soon enough he was in the back garden, relaxing on the bench next to the koi pond, checking the messages on his phone while sipping a cup of green tea. Although he didn’t intend to stay with his father long, it was at least nice that he still had staff around to make it for him. 

Kudou’s message confused him at first, but then he sighed. Right. It had been a pain to track down Shinichi’s number, but he’d thought it necessary. Perhaps he should have asked for it via email… but then, he did say that he would call. Kudou should have been expecting it.

[text] Hakuba Saguru. Apologies; I should have mentioned that earlier.

Hakuba glanced up from his phone and watched Twig sprint across the yard, then looked back at his phone, wondering if he should add anything else.

[text] It seems that I’m just as much a ferret despite having been retired.

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

“I really do like you.” He mumbled and sat back. He was still leaning over the other as he watched him. Hesitantly he shifted forward just slightly so their noses could brush. Then he waited for Hakuba to moved. Either to move forward and complete the kiss or push him back.

In that moment, Hakuba found that he was holding his breath again, eyes on Kaito’s, so very, very close together. He liked him. Kuroba liked him. He was there. He could kiss him. They already had kissed. Rather, Kuroba had kissed him. It was exciting, it was brilliant, it was nearly so perfect. Yet still he hesitated.

“Kuroba-kun…” he said in a whisper.

There were so many questions left, so many very complicated factors and things to consider. And though his eyes closed halfway and he leaned closer, ever closer, he was still far too aware to lose himself completely– which allowed him to see Baaya coming down the hallway.

Hakuba straightened up immediately, hand moving from Kaito’s back to his shoulder as he grasped him, pushing him away with a little laugh, though he held on. “R-really, we should get to the parlor…” he said, eyes wide and face flushed. “Oh look, here’s Baaya now! Is the cake all ready?”

“…indeed it is, Young Master…" 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Poker face. Those words were so special to Kaito. They were the last meaningful words given to him by his father. Over come he launched himself at the other and wrapped his arms around his neck. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything and settled in burying his face into Hakuba’s neck. There was too many emotions and so much more that could be said but he couldn’t find the words at the moment.

“Ah-ACK! Kuroba-kun!” Hakuba hadn’t expected that, though he wondered if he should have, nearly toppling over backward onto the floor. He pinwheeled, though, arms flailing, then managed to catch himself on one hand, putting the other around him as he laughed.

“Bloody hell, what’s gotten into you? First calling me a pest, then nearly tackling me?" 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito felt his heart go soft and he buried his face against his knees and sighed. Embarrassed he held out his hand for the other to take. His scarred, calloused, worn hands were his life and work. 
“I’ve liked you since high school. That first year you were there. I didn’t want to admit it at the time. Gods, I thought I had lost my mind but you were always there. A constant, irritating, wanted pest. I didn’t know what to do. So like a stupid little school boy I teased and poked at you just to get rise and see past that ridiculous mask you wore.”

He raised his head and looked at him and gave him his true smile. That lop-side, slightly fang, small grin that made his eyes closed and crinkle around the corners.

The detective laughed, quiet and awkward as he took Kaito’s hand instead of his shoulder in the end. Listening to the admission, he couldn’t help but blush all over again, wincing through his smile. He was touched… flattered, even, and definitely surprised. And, god, he loved that smile. Despite the nerves, he felt warm all over. 

“Ah, hey now… ridiculous mask? What are you trying to say?” Hakuba asked, squeezing his hand and putting on an exaggerated pout as he shifted to carefully sit down on the floor. “If you’re talking about my pokerface, well… god, of course I have to put on a professional front in school. It was the only way to survive.” 

by

Is Conan-kun the Watson to your Holmes?

“Oh god, no… I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wish I were Holmes, but when it comes to Conan-kun… I must admit that he’s far more like him than I am. I think that may be how it will always be. I am… a Watson to someone else’s Holmes, which… well, I’m such a fan, I suppose it works out that way, doesn’t it?”