#evening batch

[purgatoryandme]

fic idea, modern au, arimon: people kept asking both of them when theyre gonna get married and have kids of their own (not knowing that theyre dating each other) they came out to their friends by posting a new baby photoshoot but with a husky puppy bc arima wanted a dog

((((((I really want to see Arima and Amon get an old dog bc they have that old married couple aesthetic going on))))))))Another day, another marriage interview. Amon wasn’t evensure how his coworkers kept managing to trick him. This was the 10th“hang-out” this month that wasn’t reallt a hang-out.“I’m sorry,”He apologized, delicately taking his “date’s” hand and trying to smile, “But I’m not looking to get married yet. You are a wonderful person and I wishyou the best.” As he left the café, Amon tried his best to ignore his potential partner’s redface and whispered,“I’ll wait for you.”After all, he was already taken.

Instead of heading home, Amon trudged all the way toArima’s tiny one-person apartment on the east side of the city. It was crampedand surprisingly plain, but it had the one person in it that could make himfeel at home. He didn’t bother to knock on the door, instead pulling out thekey he’d been gifted only a week prior (hehad given Arima a key almost a month before that). 

“Koutarou,”Arima’s soft voice managed to carry through the tiny space perfectly (something Amon loved…it was always likeArima was right next to him when he was here),“Are you alright?”Amon sighed and tossed his suit jacket onto the couch, running a hand throughhis hair as he tried to gather some kind of positivity into his voice,“Yeah,”He responded,“I am now.”

Another day, another marriage interview. Amon was pretty sure he was an idiot at this point.Less than 4 days had passed since his last one. Admittedly, his friends hadchanged tactics this time, telling him that the boss wanted to have a talk, butthat was hardly an excuse. Shifting uncomfortably, Amon glanced around the rather intimate (and expensive) restaurant. Another manacross the room looked almost as awkward as him and, hoping to commiserate withsomeone, Amon tried to catch his eye. The man was his boyfriend. Arima looked like he was holding back laughter, but Amon’s heart rateimmediately picked up in a panic. Oh God, his boyfriend had seen him at amarriage interview. What if Arima thought Amon was trying to leave him (not that he would veer…he wanted to…)!? Sheer desperation lead Amon to escaping his marriage interview in under anhour, something his polite upbringing had consistently prevented in the past,and he went to Arima’s apartment at a dead sprint. Halfway there, he realizedhe needed to grovel properly. He’d never really had to apologize to Arimabefore, but Akira liked flowers and said they were the only kind of apology thatwas proper for a partner…He ran to the florist (arriving sweatyand, apparently, terrifying). After buying a massive bouquet of roses that he managed to severely bedraggleon the way home (Arima’s was home, damnit, he wasn’t going to give that up), Amon slammed into the apartment tofind Arima already there. His boyfriend grinned at him (at least, Arima’s version of a grin) and said,“Oh, are those for me? I’ve never gotten flowers before.”Which caused Amon to immediately (outloud) vow to buy him flowers more frequently. Arima looked perplexed, butAmon simply plowed onwards with his apology,“I’m not trying to leave you, I swear! Everyone keeps trying to set me up withstrangers without telling me and-“Arima stood up from the couch and strode over, taking the roses out of Amon’scrushing grip.“It’s alright,”He said, patting Amon on the shoulder (waytoo hard…God, why was Arima so strong),“I was at a marriage interview too, actually. For similar reasons.”

Arima and Amon had told their coworkers almost a year ago that they weretogether. It had been at a company party and was totally unplanned. It had justseemed like a good time and, well, Amon was never good at hiding his happinessfrom others (Arima just didn’t care much,though he seemed pleased when Amon grabbed his hand). Everyone had laughedand…

Amon had a bit to drink. So did Arima. They both just…assumed the laughter wasa positive reaction.It had taken months to realize everyone had taken Amon’s (admittedly ostentatious) confession as a joke. By then, it was fartoo awkward to bring it up again. Amon didn’t even know how to beginexplaining…it felt like he’d been keeping a secret intentionally. Still, ithadn’t seemed like a problem until the endless marriage interviews began.“Ugh, they keep asking me when I’m going to have kids.”Amon groaned, burying his face in his hands. Arima made a face, mumbling underhis breath about Haise Sasaki (that newdetective he had taken on), and muttering,“I already told them that I have kids. All the kids that they are asking me to train.”A black mood was beginning to take over Amon. As he sunk deeper into histhoughts, he blurted,“It’s annoying that they misunderstood in the first place. This is ridiculous –now I feel like I can’t even ask you to move in with me, even though I have anew place picked out and I bought a bunch of monogrammed towels and I want tosee your face every morning…”Arima “awkwardness is a thing only other people experience” Kishou took hisboyfriend’s sudden confession in stride, even though Amon was internallyscreaming. He blinked slowly before crinkling his eyebrows in thought. “I have an idea.”Arima said, crushing Amon’s shoulder in what he probably thought was acomforting grip,“If we get a kid, they have to take us seriously right? So we can livetogether?”Mutely, Amon nodded, though he was torn between excitement and breaking out ina cold sweat (wasn’t Arima indifferenttowards kids? Did he want to have some? Was Amon ready to be a dad????). “Is your new apartment pet-friendly?”

(What?)

Picking out their dog had been the best day of Amon’s life. He’d never seenArima smile like he had when they’d adopted a crotchedy old Husky would hatedeveryone and everything. The following week had him returning from work everynight with Arima to try to earn their dog’s trust together. 

Once he stopped biting them and started tentatively allowing them to pet him (though his ripped ear was 100% off limits),they started finding treats that he liked. Then they started taking him forwalks around the city, brushing his fur, buying him sweaters (that he tolerated just for them)…Turns out, their dog was a huge sweetheart even if he seemed cold (Amon glanced at Arima and tried not to gettoo many mushy feelings).  Arima, king of terriblenames, called him Peanut Butter (”What? He likes it!”). They were going to keep him.

The announcement was poorly planned, but hilariously well executed. They hireda photographer, a tiny girl named Hori, and staged a photoshoot in their newplace. Arima lay on the couch, Peanut Butter tucked under his shirt like apregnant woman’s belly. Throughout the shoot, the dog steadily wiggled his wayout until he was licking Arima’s face.

Hori loved all the photos enough to scrap their original idea of sending justone out. Instead, she strung them together into a little scrapbook of Arima “givingbirth” (she was one weird girl) and wrote “it’s a boy” on the front cover. She deliveredthem all herself, not even asking for pay.She said seeing “embarrassing a bunch of detectives” would be enough.

Everyone called in sick the next day at the CCG detective agency. Amon and Arima wenthome early to play with their dog.

[purgatoryandme]

write youself having a good day

I wake up and my thesis is finished. My supervisor has actually told me what he wanted as a final product and it was something achievable. My thesis presentation went off without a hitch. I am free. I take the bus and there is a seat available. No one is touching me with their goddamn muddy boots. It’s a sunny day, my mood is good, and I am taking a class that contains interesting material that isn’t poorly executed. I am learning.On my way to class, I run into people I like. They are happy and nobody discusses university depression. We all agree to do something relaxing later, something that allows us to take care of each other, and I leave with the knowledge that I am as good for them as they are for me. I am secure.I leave class to go to work. My job is in my field and my boss is interested in seeing me improve. They are invested in me, unafraid of handling my anxiety, and want to see my career move forward. “You have a lot of potential.”They say and they mean it. I am capable. Once work is over, I receive a call from old classmates. The damage that has been done to them over the years has faded and, though their past still weighs heavily on them, they are learning to be content. We mutually consider ways to prevent what happened to us from happening to other people. They have met other interested parties and, maybe, just maybe, we have found a group who has done the research we need to justify improving mental health on campus in tangible ways. We are validated. The day is good. 

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