#Woman Health Check Up Packages

[neotiahospital]

Empower Your Health: The Benefits of Comprehensive Women's Health Check-Up Packages

In today’s fast-paced world, taking time for regular health check-ups is essential for maintaining overall well-being. Women’s health check-up packages are designed to offer comprehensive assessments, focusing on various aspects of health and providing early detection of potential issues. Here’s why investing in a women’s health check-up package is a proactive step toward a healthier future.

What Are Women's Health Check-Up Packages?

Women's health check-up packages are tailored health assessments that encompass a range of tests and screenings aimed at monitoring and maintaining a woman’s health. These packages typically include evaluations for reproductive health, cardiovascular health, and other critical areas, providing a holistic view of a woman’s well-being.

Key Components of a Comprehensive Check-Up Package

A well-rounded women’s health check-up package generally includes:

Routine Screenings: Essential tests such as blood pressure measurement, cholesterol levels, and glucose tests to monitor general health and detect risk factors early.

Reproductive Health Assessments: Evaluations including pelvic exams, Pap smears, and breast examinations to monitor reproductive health and screen for conditions like cervical cancer or breast abnormalities.

Bone Health Evaluation: Tests to assess bone density, especially important for women at risk of osteoporosis or other bone-related issues.

Hormonal Assessments: Blood tests to evaluate hormone levels, which can help in identifying imbalances or conditions such as thyroid disorders.

Benefits of Regular Health Check-Ups

Regular health check-ups offer several benefits:

Early Detection: Routine screenings and tests can identify potential health issues before they become serious, allowing for timely intervention and treatment.

Personalized Health Insights: A comprehensive check-up provides valuable insights into your health status, helping to tailor lifestyle and treatment plans to your specific needs.

Peace of Mind: Regular assessments offer reassurance that you are taking proactive steps to monitor and maintain your health, reducing anxiety about potential health issues.

Choosing the Right Package

When selecting a women’s health check-up package, consider:

Coverage: Ensure the package includes tests relevant to your age, health history, and risk factors.

Convenience: Look for packages that offer flexibility in scheduling and provide a seamless experience from booking to receiving results.

Investing in a women’s health check-up package is a valuable step toward proactive health management. By undergoing regular assessments, you can ensure early detection of potential issues, gain personalized health insights, and maintain overall well-being. Embrace the opportunity to take charge of your health and pave the way for a healthier future.

[sirfrogsworth]

Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.

So... yesterday was quite the day.

After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.

My to-do list...

Go to the doctor

Vote early

Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy

Return Amazon package to the UPS store

Get gasoline for my whip

Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free

Drop a check off for my lawn guy

Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office

It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.

So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.

As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.

Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.

When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.

So it's like this private/public turducken situation.

I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.

But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.

As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.

And a particular one caught my eye.

This is bullshit.

Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.

Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...

"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."

They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."

This is how their online flyer puts it...

It could also include a free puppy.

Or a zillion bucks.

Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.

It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.

The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.

It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.

His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.

The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.

Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.

Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.

I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.

Just one.

And she sucks.

Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.

Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...

So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"

At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.

And then she finishes her sentence...

"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."

Ah, dammit.

I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.

If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.

I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.

But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.

It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.

It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.

But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.

So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.

My biggest concern was time.

The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.

They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.

So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.

I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.

I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.

It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."

But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.

My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."

I get up and start walking to the end of the line.

Then I hear a voice yell out to me.

"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"

A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.

I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...

"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."

He suggested my idea!

Without me asking!

I felt like he read my mind or something.

Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?

"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."

And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."

The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.

So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.

That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.

And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.

I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.

And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.

As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.

I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.

But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.

My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.

I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."

They seemed confused by my joke.

"No problem, man. Happy to help."

I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...

I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."

As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.

I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.

It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.

Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.

My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!

And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.

Yep, that seems about right.

Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.

Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?

I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.

I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.

I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.

I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.

I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.

I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.

On my way out I noticed a miracle.

2 of the 4 doors were fixed!

I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.

And then... I drove home.

5 hours of errands.

I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.

The End

[ragingbookdragon]

She hummed as she adjusted Soap’s equipment, checking all the clips and pockets for everything needed. “Alright, you’re good. Ghost?” she called. “Your turn.” The man didn’t even make a noise of complaint as he stood in front of her, letting her do the exact same thing to him; her expression soured and she griped, “Where’s your emergency coagulation powder?”

“Don’t have any, Doc,” he said, and she looked at him.

“Don’t have any, my ass. I gave you some last time.”

“I don’t get shot.”

Her eyes narrowed and she held out her hand to Soap, not bothering to watch as the Scot dug in her bag, then handed her a package. “Do you want your gold star for this mission or not?”

Ghost rolled his eyes as she tucked the pack into the empty pocket. “I’m coming for all the gold stars, Doctor Jekyll.”

She smiled and patted his cheek. “Of course, you are, sweetheart.” Turning, she gestured to Alejandro and Rudy. “Come here you two.”

They shared confused looks with one another, then to Ghost and Soap who nodded at them; Alejandro stepped up to her, watching as she flipped open his pockets, checked the contents, then snapped them back. “What are you doing?”

She blinked. “Checking to make sure you have all your safety and first aid gear.”

“Why?”

“You don’t get gold stars if you get hurt in the field.”

“Estrellas de oro?”

“Yep,” she nodded. “If you manage to stay in perfect health while in the field, you get a gold star. Ghost?” she gestured behind her, and he removed the metal plate from his vest, showing rows upon rows of golden stars. “If you do get injured, you don’t get a gold star. However, if you use your first aid and show me when you get back, you get a silver star. Soap?” The Scot lifted his metal plate, silver stars lining his with the occasional gold; he glowered at the full rows of golden stars on Ghost’s plate, the Brit smirking beneath his mask, knowing Soap was jealous.

Alejandro’s brows knit in confusion. “And what happens if you don’t do either?”

Ghost and Soap immediately made the “NO!” gesture to their necks and she smiled at him, but it was anything but pleasant as she replied sweetly, “Then you meet my counterpart, Missus Hyde, and I’ll make your wounds worse before I make them better.” She tugged his vest hard until he was nose to nose with her and warned darkly, “Don’t meet, Missus Hyde, Colonel Vargas. She isn’t a good woman.”

Letting him go, she turned to Rudy. “Come here, dearie, time to check your pack.”

As she checked his pack, Alejandro stepped over to the two men and asked, “Have you ever met, Missus Hyde?”

Ghost did something he never expected the battle-hardened man to do; he shivered. “One time only. I never want to meet her again.”

Soap nodded in agreement, worrying, “I’ll never not see those eyes in my nightmares when I didn’t do what she told me in Baghdad.” He looked at Ghost. “Do you remember how she swung those tools around? I never knew she was that strong,” he whispered.

Alejandro’s eyes had widened like saucers, turning to stare at the doctor who’d tagged along with Soap and Ghost. So sweet and kind. There was no way she acted like that if they didn’t listen…

Was there?

[singlesomethinginstyle]

It is festive season in South Asia, and women are some of the most overworked among all social groups.

Suddenly, it is not just you, your partner/parents/siblings anymore - it is the entire extended clan, khandaan, their nosy relatives even with several degrees of separation.

The bulk of festive burden falls on women. From the cooking, an extensive menu that comprises unhealthy food which will not be fully consumed because everyone is diabetic or dieting, and the heartbroken woman has to finish what she painstakingly prepared or watch it go to the trash, to endless decor needs, shopping and gifting the extended family (a fine art which, god forbid you gift one relative something and another differently, tempers erupt) not to mention your own professional deadlines because your boss wants everything early so he can justify the 3-4-5 fay holidays.

Then comes the dieting because you KNOW you will be judged for your appearance, the clothing choices, the exhaustion of dealing with nasty relatives and the politics.

And if you're queer, in the closet or struggling or even simply wanting to be single or avoid marriage, suddenly your life is everyone's business, and this endless social nightmare, the bullying and the ostracism is the opposite of divine, it is debasing. God forbid if you are part of an inter-caste or inter-faith coupling, the negativity is worse.

Here are a few tips on how you can take care of yourself during this season.

You've gotta put yourself first. You cannot fight multiple battles on multiple fronts if you cannot take care of yourself first. FEED YOURSELF FIRST.

Look in the mirror ' and tell yourself - this festive season I am celebrating ME - I will feed myself first. You cannot fight big battles on an empty tank.

1. Food: eat before everyone else - get in the kitchen, make yourself something healthy in half an hour, cut a salad, a bunch of fruits and eat first. Cut up a few veggies at night, put it in a tiffin box and leave it in the fridge. When everyone is snoozing, have that. They will balance out all the junk that will go into your stomach. Don't start any ridiculous fast that will drain you. Get a doctor's note if you are being pressured and say - sorry maa ji. Health reasons I have to be careful.

2. Get a pre-festival health checkup. Go to the doctor and get your stats checked. Some labs offer full-body general health checkups at discounted rates. Grab a package and finish it. When you know where you are struggling, yiu can avoid making it worse.

3. Protect your money. Festive seasons have a pile of insidious stupid expenses that pile up and guess who pays ? The woman, the wife, the daughter in law. Do you think your Husband or inlaws will shell money out for that cute decor and diya set? No way. If you hold them accountable, they will probably give some money for all the gifts relatives give. Remove your credit cards and debit cards from online shopping sites. Pretend something is wrong with your card and it got blocked. Make your husband or In-laws pay instead.

So get realistic, set up a budget and empty your bank account into an FD. Congratulations, you only have a SMALL amount of money left for decorations - use that to get inventive and clever. Pull out old newspapers, and get into wealth-from-waste mode.

If you are even smarter, you will quietly set up an alternative savings account WITHOUT a debit card or credit card and squirrel away your Dussehra - Diwali bonus into it. If your husband asks, "Sorry yar, iss bar company mein bonus nahi de rahe hain, kaafi projects mein behind hue and they arent doing that well"

If you are still living with your parents make it a point to save every money gift you get. Take the cash, hide it safely and don't touch it. First opportunity - put it in the bank account (your own, not a shared one)

4. Secure your Jewelry. A pot of desi women are given gold and precipus jewelry during their marriage but this is often sneakily taken away by your mother in law in order to "safeguard it". It is usually in the bank or a locker you do not have access to.

So, this festive season, go FULL on TRADITIONAL. Wear that old saree, and ask mom in law for your jewelry because your extended family etc are mentioning seeing those pieces from your wedding, because they got sentimental. And then sneakily after the festivities, hide them in your own little locker (which you bought beforehand) and quietly head to the bank, and deposit it in a safe deposit box in YOUR name.

Remember, GOLD is one of the most secure available financial assets for a desi woman. But the gold you have is often controlled by your in-laws once you marry over. So make sure you take iy back bit by bit. And when they ask - make excuses like - the clasp is broken, need repairs, mom wants to upgrade it a little etc. And never give it back to your inlaws. Your gold is YOUR legal property. It should not go to your inlaws.

5. Mentally prepare for tough conversations.

Festive seasons are hard on women and they socially slaughter your dignity. Prepare snarky, sarcastic answers or don't hesitate to shut down what comes your way. But since many of you are raised to be docile, remember to anticipate all the tough topics someone will raise to criticize you, think of their personaliry and prepare some snarky answers beforehand. If a relative is asking abiut your marriage, ask them when their son is going to move out or if they're still a financial burden. Ask if their husbands have stopped ogling the maid. Don't be scared of going offensive. These guys are not your friends and won't hesitate to pull you down.

6. Prepare Me time. Make a set of activities, like groceries etc, that that can leave you alone and give you breathing space from the khandaan. Take longer to shop alone and take a break in the neighbourhood park. Use this time to meditate, check in with yourself and your goals and give youraelf a spiritual pat kn the back.

7. Prep an easy menu and donate the remaining. Plan a food menu that is not extensive. Order delicacies if possible, instead of Doing it Yourself. There is no BEST BAHU and BEST WIFE contest to win. Get the load of cooking off your back. If there is food leftover, call an orphanage and send it to them. Do not eat excessively out of guilt. Donate it to those who need it. When the burden of cooking is reduced the guilt of forced eating goes doen and you won't be putting junk in your body.

Remember - you are your own best friend. Festivals will take a lot out of you. They will cause families to get into unnecessary pissing contests and you have to bear the laborous brunt. So safeguard your time and energy.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The DM's Excerpts - Charles III: New King, New Court

Robert Hardman (who also wrote Queen of Our Times, published 2022) has written a new book about the British Royal Family. The Daily Mail is serializing parts of the book over four days, from 12 - 15 January 2024. Here are the links. If anyone has any others, feel free to share them in the comments.

If you don't want to give the DM clicks, I've included highlights below. (My browser doesn't recognize archive.vn or archive.ph as a valid domain so I can't create or access those links.)

TL;DR--

The day the Queen died, 12 Jan 2024

Secret summits over making Charles regent in Queen's last years, 13 Jan 2024

How the royals have dealt with a torrent of allegations from Harry and Meghan, 14 Jan 2024

Harmdan's intimate portrait of a woman who dances at Abba concerts, jabs the King with her handbag and 'knows when to wink at a bishop,' 15 Jan 2024

Excerpt #1, 12 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The last time most of her staff saw The Queen was at the pre-dinner cocktails the evening of September 6th. She was happy, chatty, and in a good mood. (September 6th was the Boris Johnson-Liz Truss transition.)

It was sheer luck that Anne and Peter were at Balmoral during this time. Anne was passing through for work, Peter was preparing for a shooting party he was going to host over the weekend (which ended up cancelled). Also Sarah Chatto was nearby.

On September 7th, The Queen planned to attend the Privy Council meeting as it involved new Cabinet officials being installed. She eventually cancelled on medical advice. This was the first signal to many that she wasn't doing well.

Charles and Camilla were on the western side of Scotland for a series of engagements September 7 - September 8. The morning of September 8, Anne called Charles to come to Balmoral at once. On the helicopter to Balmoral, everyone was reviewing the Operation London Bridge papers. They arrived at Birkhall around 10:30am and traveled to Balmoral in a borrowed car.

William was called around breakfast time and informed of the situation, including that was on his way to Balmoral. Charles himself called William (and Andrew, Edward, and Harry) that they should also come. After Charles's calls, Kensington Palace began coordinating with Royal Lodge (Andrew's office*) and Bagshot Park (Edward's office*) on travel to Scotland. William and KP did not reach out to the Sussexes because betrayal, and they felt the responsibility should have been on the Sussexes to make contact. (*Not really their offices, but it's the easiest way to keep them separate so you know who I'm talking about.)

Everyone was disturbed by Harry's inclusion of these events, especially the "Meghan's not coming/she's my wife/Kate's not coming either/that's all you had to say" bit, in his memoir. Harry's recollection of how he was notified of The Queen's death isn't true - he claims no one was talking to him but actually Charles and the palace had been trying to reach him repeatedly. The calls weren't going through because he was in the air. (Interesting that he'd check the BBC first as opposed to calling back after seeing a dozen of missed calls...or not springing for the wifi package...)

Liz Truss, the new PM, was in a G7 conference call on September 8th when she was notified of the situation in Scotland. She bowed out of the call early and quickly. The G7 leaders knew what was happening.

Charles was rather close to Balmoral when he received the call that The Queen had passed. William, Andrew, Edward, and Sophie were on the way to Balmoral from the Aberdeen airport. Charles called them himself to let them know.

The Archbishop of Canterbury was in France on a personal holiday. He and his wife began preparing to return home after seeing the palace's first statement about The Queen's health. They drove home overnight so Welby could make an address in the morning.

Excerpt #2, 13 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The Queen had been quite ill in her final year. She knew and was aware her time was ending that summer.

A regency would have been created had she lived as long as The Queen Mother because everyone was fearful of a health condition flaring up in public.

Planning for Charles's accession and coronation began in 2015. Sir Alderton, his private secretary, created a "training video" of the accession/transition then that Charles, Camilla, and William watched in the evening of September 8th during their private dinner at Birkhall, while Princess Anne hosted the rest of the family at Balmoral. If Harry wasn't such a dick (my word, not Hardman's), he'd have been part of the Birkhall dinner but he wasn't and there were very serious concerns he would write about it in Spare.

The announcement of The Queen's death was delayed because family members hadn't been informed yet. (I think it was Harry they were waiting on, per the events in the first article.)

The royals were very touched by the outpouring of public affection for The Queen, themselves, and their family. Camilla was struck by how supportive the crowd was of her. Anne was touched by the tractors, horses, and the crowds that lined the roads in Scotland. It was a six hour drive, and she and Tim had had snacks in their car but they both felt it would have been rude to everyone that came to see the procession and pay their respects to be seen eating.

Camilla sobbed through Charles's first speech.

The Privy Council were concerned that the political upheaval in the government would cause problems for the accession, transition, and royal mourning.

It was William's idea for him, Kate, and the Sussexes to do the Windsor walkabout together. He organized it in two hours. No one found it easy or enjoyable.

Excerpt #3, 14 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The Queen felt she had to say 'yes' when Harry contacted her about naming his daughter Lilibet and she was very angry with him for it. (Reading between the lines, it sounds like the decision was presented by the Sussexes as "fait accompli" and The Queen took offense.)

The Sussexes tried to force the palace to go along with their version (that they had asked The Queen for permission) but the palace refused to play. They also tried to intimidate the press with legal action if anyone didn't report "their" version of events, even going so far as threatening the BBC with a lawsuit.

Everyone at the palace rolled their eyes about the Sussexes getting the RFK "Ripple of Hope Award." They felt that the "legacy" the Sussexes were being rewarded for was laughable, especially when compared to Charles's work.

The Caribbean gets its news through the US media. (I believe this confirms the theory that Sussex PR influenced the Caribbean's coverage of the Royal Family)

William saw Harry's comments in the Netflix documentary that they're expected to marry someone who fits the mold as an attack on Kate and he's been furious since. He feels betrayed by Harry having discussed their relationship so freely, thinks it's an intrusion of privacy.

Neither William nor Kate have read Spare but they are aware of what's being said and their staffs have briefed them.

Harry's version of events when The Queen Mother died is totally made up. (In Spare, Harry says he was alone, it was springtime just before Easter, and he took the call himself, but actually he was in Switzerland skiing with Charles and William and all three were told together by an aide.)

It's very suspicious that Spare largely skips May 2018 - March 2020. The palace thinks it'll be covered in the second version or Meghan's memoir.

The door is open for Harry and Meghan to return but they'll have to make the first steps since Charles has given up.

Anne's seat the coronation in front of Harry was a last-minute change so she could leave more quickly after the service in the procssion. She was concerned about keeping her hat on since it was "decent-sized" but she was told to keep it on.

Excerpt #4, 15 Jan 2024 - TBD

Highlights

It's been a difficult transition to Queen for Camilla, but everyone believes she handled it well. Her family finds it surreal.

Camilla doesn't mind being second fiddle to Charles.

She still has her Wiltshire home, Ray Mill, which she bought after divorcing Andrew PB. She still visits and stays there to this day.

Everyone walks a bit on eggshells around Charles because he's a bit temperamental, but Camilla steadies him.

Camilla likes her rooms hot. Charles like his rooms cold and windows open.

Charles skips lunch. Camilla does not.

Camilla keeps Charles running on time when he gets chatty.

Camilla is hands-on with her charities and patronage.

I find her sister is overstaying her welcome. After her starring role in the coronation documentary and now her interviews with Hardman for the book, it's too much and feels like she's trying too hard.

Other stories by Hardman from his book:

Foreign Office officials 'ditched buses for dignitaries' at coronation after backlash at the Queen's funeral, 13 Jan 2024

Brigadier who helped carry Queen's coffin was at a wedding in Corfu, 13 Jan 2024

Queen's funeral rehearsal was a comedy of errors as even the band went AWOL, 13 Jan 2024

Prince Andrew could be 'far more damaging outside the loop,' 14 Jan 2024

The DM's other royal reporters - Martin Robinson, Rebecca English, Natasha Livingstone - are publishing "recaps" of Hardman's excerpts. Some of Rebecca English's stories are augmented by her own sources. Here are a few:

Insiders revewal how the Queen was so upset by Harry and Meghan's Lilibet decision that she told aides 'the only thing I own is my name. And now they've taken that': The royal row taht troubled Her Majesty in twilight of her reign, 15 Jan 2024

'For William, this was the lwoest of the low,' 15 Jan 2024

Camilla was given the affection nickname 'Lorraine' before seh became Queen, 14 Jan 2024

Harry and Meghan likely caused Queen 'distress' in her final years over naming of baby Lilibet, 15 Jan 2024

The Queen's final years were overshadowed by Harry and Meghan's hunger for publicity, 15 Jan 2024

Also, these are reminding me of some things Harry and Meghan (Harry mostly) have claimed and Hardman's articles are debunking them. I need to do a bit of research to check if the dates on what I'm remembering line up with the timeline Hardman is presenting. I'll do a separate post on that since this is already quite long.

[ariadnelives]

Dokkaebi Fire - A Short Story

Author's Note: The bulk of this story takes place during the events of "Force Majeure," directly between chapters 8 and 9, during the crew's time in hiding in Xiagu. It is not intended to be read in sequence. If you'd like to catch up on the series so far, you can do so on ao3 or tumblr.

“Cookie?” Pilar called into the flat as she entered, not waiting to be let in. “It's me today. Ariadne's making final preparations for her surgery tomorrow, but she'll be by as soon as she's back on her feet.”

Aoibheann sat on the armchair in the living room, pointed at the television which appeared to be carrying a local news broadcast from one of Saturn's other moons. She had a blanket draped over her lap, and she watched the news broadcast idly, taking in none of it.

“Remember, starting tomorrow, Ariadne won't remember anything beyond the six-month point in our stay here, and we have to keep it that way, so, be careful what you say around her.” Pilar laughed without joy.

Aoibheann did not.

“You know,” Pilar tacked on, “I'm a complete liar. You could dime out the whole plan and I'm pretty sure me and Ari would absolutely leap for joy as long as it meant you were talking again.”

Aoibheann glanced over at Pilar wistfully, dark circles under her eyes, but said nothing. These little responses indicated their old friend could still hear them in there, that they could get through to her, even if she couldn't muster the strength to respond. She'd barely spoken since they lost the station. She was usually a tightly-wound powder keg, full of fire and passion, and she had to direct it towards her purpose or else she’d explode. Now, it was like all that fire inside her had gone out, and all that was left of her was an exhausted shell of a woman.

She seemed able to move around on her own, but rarely found the motivation to do so. She had grown somewhat thin and gaunt, as she only ate when fed, so every day, Pilar or Ariadne or one of her apprentices would stop by to see her and make sure she ate. Sasha had been spreading herself far too thin on Ariadne's project, but still found time to check in on her and monitor her physical health. Her apprentices had removed all sharp objects, belts, and shoelaces from the premises, but Pilar thought that was overkill. She had known Aoibheann long enough to know she would never physically harm herself. Still, it didn't make it easy to watch her torture herself like this.

Pilar sat next to her, and gently took her hand.

“I hate having to feed you this stuff, Cookie,” she said, opening up a small gray package she'd brought with her. “Replicated MREs. No wonder Baltimore and Beam went to a convenience store twice a week when they were in the army.”

Aoibheann looked with disdain at the lump of meat before her, served with a mush that could only be described as “prepared grain.” She hated eating it as much as Pilar hated serving it to her.

In their small hidden town of Xiagu, all of the food came out of the replicators. Xiagu had a surplus of energy, with its passive solar collection and years of nobody to use the stored power, so nobody was worried about the expenditure of creating food and water from reserves.

Back on the station, they had only managed to earmark power for replicator use two years previously. Like most spacecraft, all of the water fixtures were powered by replicators, generating as much water as needed from a stored bank of energy, which was in turn refilled by a device in the drains which converted waste-water into energy. The food replicator could make prepared meals, but crew members would only be allowed to use it if they could make up the energy cost. This happened pretty naturally, as everybody had to use the bathroom regularly and could credit this to their account, and had the handy benefit of encouraging people to clean up after themselves-- every time you emptied your trash into the energy-reclamation chute, you added replicator energy to your canteen account.

However, back home, most people didn't bother to use the replicators, because truly, Cookie's food was better fresh than anything they could produce, and she loved making it. Here in Xiagu, however, the replicators had nothing but military-grade “Meals Ready to Eat” and raw ingredients programmed into them. When the town was alive, there had been gardens to produce the vegetables, and people to tend them, harvest them, and cook them in the many small restaurants. Now, all that was left was replicators.

Cookie's star apprentice, Yellow, had been put in charge of the replicators while Cookie was indisposed, and had very few requests for anything other than the prepared MREs since they'd been there. Everyone on the crew was required to learn to cook, from Cookie, and nobody particularly felt up to trying to fill her shoes. Everyone had pretty much accepted meals of nondescript lumps of meat, vegetables, and starches on the firm belief that any day now, Cookie would be back on her feet, doing what she loved.

Yellow was the one in charge of food distribution, and had desperately been asking Ariadne to authorize them to reopen Cookie's kitchen, with her at the helm, until Cookie was well enough to resume her post. It's what Cookie would want, she insisted, but Ariadne was taking Cookie's condition unusually poorly, and had refused to allow the kitchen to operate without Cookie present. Yellow was frustrated, but understood. Nobody would feel right about having communal meals like before without Cookie.

Pilar carefully cut up the packaged meal and fed bites to Cookie, who halfheartedly complied with each bite. She offered her a cup of tea, which Cookie held for warmth but wouldn't drink without prompting.

“Look, Aoibheann...” Pilar said, “I know you're not well. I know this has been harder on you than anyone.”

Cookie met her gaze.

“But I don't...” Pilar began, and choked. “I don't think Ariadne will go through with this with you in this condition. She cares about you too much. You know what you mean to her. To me. She's not going to put herself at risk until she knows you're okay.”

Aoibheann looked downcast.

“She needs you,” Pilar whispered. “I need you. Please come back to us.”

****

Aoibheann's mind drifted back to when she’d met Ariadne and Pilar, thirteen years previously. She had been living on the streets for two years and had only passing contact with Pilar. She had been homeless since the Hanguk-Éire massacre, when Susan Weaver’s bombs had incinerated her family’s house and restaurant, left her and her mother destitute, and claimed her father’s life. Her mother had turned to drugs to cope with the loss, and ultimately found herself bleeding out in the gutter after an altercation with a pusher who she couldn’t pay for her latest fix.

She had distrusted the new girl at first. In her experience, another new person living under the overpass was another person who might get to the good scraps before her. She didn’t need any more competition. There was, however, a certain unspoken respect between her and the Aguilar girls. They were the only kids living on the streets of that particular block, and they had to look out for one another. They didn’t talk much, but they had struck up an arrangement. Pilar needed to go foraging to keep Sasha fed, and knowing that she would have to dig through trash bins and steal from loosely-guarded shops to make this happen, she felt it was too dangerous to bring her nine-year-old sister along with her.

So, she struck up an arrangement with Aoibheann: if she kept Sasha safe while she went out on runs, Pilar would try and steal a little extra food so Aoibheann could eat as well. Pilar and Sasha had been squatting in an abandoned house on a nearby side-street, and Aoibheann could crash there in exchange for keeping an eye on Sasha. It was shelter, and food, and it was a better deal than she was getting anywhere else. Under normal circumstances, Aoibheann would’ve developed a mighty crush on Pilar, but crushes were the sorts of things normal girls got to have. Aoibheann needed to focus on staying alive.

The new girl had been Racquel when they met. She had been raving about how the world was going to end, a secret conspiracy to reign atomic hellfire onto the bio-domes. It was the standard fare of the doomsaying lunatic, so nobody paid her much mind, but she’d named Ramos and Ramos specifically in her raving, and that caught Pilar’s attention. Nobody hated the Ramoses like Pilar, although Aoibheann didn’t yet know why.

So, Pilar and Racquel started going out on runs together. Suddenly, they were bringing back more than enough food, not only for the four of them, but they even got to share it with the others under the bridge. One day, they came home clean, wearing fresh clothes, and carrying a bundle of new clothes under their arm. They told her that Racquel’s name was Ariadne now, and that they would be needing her help a lot more often. They’d found some sort of mentor, who would “get them out of here,” but they’d need to spend hours, even days, with her at a time.

Aoibheann wasn’t a fool. She knew that if they succeeded in getting out of here, that she would be left behind. She couldn’t, however, risk being thrown out on the street. She’d watch Sasha and crash on the floor of this abandoned townhouse as long as they’d let her.

Sasha seemed like such a little kid then, although Aoibheann knew on a logical level that she was only three years older.

“If you could be anything in the world when you grow up,” Sasha had asked her one day, while the other girls had been away at their mysterious mentor’s for a few days, “what would you be?”

“I’m just trying to grow up,” Aoibheann said, “if I can make it that far, I’ll see what I can get.”

Sasha scrunched her nose. “You’re not playing the game right.”

“I’m being realistic,” Aoibheann said.

Sasha breezed past this. “I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up.”

Aoibheann considered pointing out that Sasha had a third-grade education and no money, but thought better of it, and instead just sighed. “Well, it’d be a crying shame if you starved to death before then,” she said. “Let’s see what your sister left us.”

Aoibheann looked at the handful of scraps Pilar had left on the table. Pilar had stolen them an entire rotisserie chicken, which Aoibheann had admonished her for-- the abandoned house did not have a working refrigerator, she pointed out, so she’d have to use the meats straightaway or they would quickly spoil and attract flies-- and several cans of diced white potatoes, which Pilar figured would keep Sasha’s stomach full, but Aoibheann pointed out had very little nutritional value. This was, of course, in addition to the six chocolate bars Pilar had, being thirteen years old, been sure to nab on her little excursion.

Aoibheann had nothing in the way of seasonings, except for a variety of salt and pepper packets she’d taken from a loosely-supervised outdoor seating area at a nearby restaurant, as well as, on one extremely lucky day, three sets of cheap silverware and a bottle of hot sauce.

She did, however, have access to a small metal trash can with a lid, water from a neighbor’s hose spigot-- Aoibheann felt bad about this, because water was so tightly regulated on Mars and the owner would surely be steeply charged for the waste, but this was a low priority compared to their survival-- and an old gas stove that the new girl had rigged up to illegally supply them with heat.

Aoibheann had cut the meat off the bones of the rotisserie chicken and plopped the bones into the cold water with all the fat and gristle, and opened up a few of the salt packets into the mixture. She put it on the stove and let it heat up to a boil, then turned down the gas and watched as the mixture turned a translucent yellow. She eventually fished out the bones with her knife, and dumped all the potatoes, and the meat from the chicken, into the broth.

After it had stewed for a while, Aoibheann took a taste. It was thin, watery, and somewhat bland, but it would do for the time being. Using the now-empty potato cans, she scooped out two servings of soup and handed one to Sasha.

“Now, we just have to keep it just hot enough,” Aoibheann said, “and it won’t go bad. We’ll be able to eat this until your sister gets back.”

Sasha took a taste. “It’s…” she had been taught, if she had nothing nice to say, to say nothing at all, so she didn’t finish her sentence. Aoibheann had spent enough time with her to know what she meant.

“It’s a tick bland like this,” Aoibheann shrugged, passing her the hot sauce. “Give it a dash of this, it’ll be a sight better.”

Sasha complied, tasted it, and her face made it clear that while it was in fact a sight better, it still wasn’t quite tasty.

“My mom used to make potatoes with a cheesy sauce,” Sasha said sadly. “They were really spicy. Pilar’s favorite food.”

“My dad was more of a cabbage man,” Aoibheann said. “My mom handled the meats, him the veggies. Hanguk-Éire cuisine is… all about things coming together in the pot.”

Sasha added a little more hot sauce to her soup.

“I wanted to be a cook,” Aoibheann said. “Like my folks, before, all this. My dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. And so on and so on, all the way back to our homelands.”

“You could still be a cook,” Sasha said, eyeing her soup. “...someday.”

“Well, we’ll have to get your sister to scrounge us up some quality ingredients, then, won’t we?” Aoibheann said.

The two of them finished their soup, and Aoibheann noted that it was getting late, and insisted that Sasha go to bed. Sasha refused without a story, and Aoibheann tossed back a “tough titties” which was met with an infuriatingly irresistible pout.

“FINE,” Aoibheann groaned, and improvised a story.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom,” Aoibheann began. This was how all her stories began, they all took place in this kingdom. “The kingdom, you see, had been through every horror you could put a kingdom through. It had been invaded. It had been burned. It had been taken over and torn in half and put back together again more times than you could count. Every evil overlord you could name had taken the place over, at one time or another. So the people in the kingdom, they were always sad, and they started to wonder, would they ever be free? And then, one day, they found out, there was another kingdom, just like them, halfway round the world, and they decided to join forces. But then, after a few decades of unity and prosperity, the entire world fell into darkness, and the people of the two kingdoms had to run. They ran far away, and found a new promised land in the desert, and built a home there.”

“Then, one day, in the new kingdom, there was a little girl who lived in a little house with her ma’ and her da’, and she loved her life. The dark creature from the old world, it caught up with them. It took her da’, and burned down her house, and she and her mother had to go out into the woods.”

Sasha looked scared. “The woods?”

“Aye,” Aoibheann said, “and her mother dear didn’t last long. There were these flares of Dokkaebi Fire, the goblin lights, and mother dear thought surely she could follow them to safety… Pretty soon, the little girl was all on her own.”

“I don’t like this story,” Sasha said, trying not to betray how frightened she was.

Aoibheann sighed. “Neither do I. But see, the story has a happy ending.”

“Happy?” Sasha asked.

“Happy enough,” Aoibheann replied, “for now. See, the little girl knew not to follow the goblin lights. She ran into the dark, and there she found… a brave, dashing adventurer. A gorgeous girl, noble and good, who’d been lost in the woods herself.”

Sasha’s eyes brightened at this. “Did she have a sword?”

“A little one, aye,” Aoibheann laughed. “And she was on a quest, to find a way out of the woods. But the problem was, she had to look after a sweet, wee little baby, and couldn’t leave it long enough to make any real progress. So the little girl, she’d faced all the darkness in the world. She could handle a wee little baby! She agreed to take care of the baby while the adventurer looked for a way to save herself and the little one.”

“Did she find a way out?”

“Someday she will,” Aoibheann said, “but all she found so far was… a sorceress.”

“This story has everything,” Sasha said.

“The sorceress was as beautiful as the adventurer, and sharp as a tack, but she was untrained. Powerful magic, but she didn’t know how to use it.” Aoibheann explained, “so, together, they managed to track down the Baba Yaga, a wise but crafty old witch, who could teach the sorceress and adventurer how to find the way.”

“And the little girl?” Sasha asked.

Aoibheann thought about this. “The little girl gets to spend time with the sorceress, and the adventurer, and that sweet wee little baby,” she said, “and she appreciates the time she has with them. Someday, they’ll find their way out, and she’ll still be in the woods, but she’ll always be glad to have met them. The end.”

Sasha crinkled her nose. “That’s a bad ending,” Sasha said bluntly. “The little girl should just leave the woods with them. Then find the creature that took her house, and kill it.”

“And how’s she gonna do that?” Aoibheann laughed.

“The adventurer and the sorceress will help her!” Sasha said. “Maybe the Baby Yaga can tell her some spells!”

“Baba Yaga,” Aoibheann corrected. “Okay, so say she does. Say she tells the adventurer and the sorceress everything that happened, and they go slay the evil creature. What happens next?”

Sasha thought about this. “Maybe they fight another creature,” she said. “An octopus?”

“Why are they fighting an octopus?” Aoibheann asked, still chuckling.

“It’s guarding a treasure,” Sasha said as though it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “You have heard a story before, right?”

“Fair enough,” Aoibheann said. “And then, say, they beat all the creatures. What then?”

“Happily ever after,” Sasha said triumphantly.

“Well, you’re a sight more deft at this than I am,” Aoibheann said. “Let’s get you to sleep, I’ll do better next time.”

Aoibheann swaddled Sasha in the dirty, tattered blanket that they’d found a few weeks earlier, sat out in the hallway, and began to cry.

In the present day, Aoibheann thought back to her sobbing in the hallway. At the time, she was convinced that Ariadne and Pilar would surely abandon her when they finished training with Blue. When they started building their first spacecraft in an alley under the bridge, she’d defended it from thieves and scrappers at knifepoint, even thinking that they would use it to leave her behind. When, against all odds, Ariadne had built a spaceworthy craft, she was stunned into silence when they invited her along.

“Don’t be dumb,” Pilar had said, extending a hand to her “of course we’re taking you with us. We started this crew to keep Sasha fed. How are we gonna do that without a cook?”

And so, Cookie had been born. As the goblin lights lit the way to ruin, Pilar’s hand pulled her onto the right path.

****

Now, Pilar’s hand was busy cutting up bites of nondescript meat and placing them into Aoibheann’s mouth.

“Do you remember… back in our street urchin days,” Pilar asked, “Me and Ariadne would come home from Blue’s, put Sasha to bed, and then you, me, and her would stay up late gossiping. We’d show you all the cool stuff Blue had taught us in our lessons, and you’d take the ingredients we’d stolen for you-- better ones, after you started giving me lists-- and you’d teach us how to cook like you.”

Aoibheann almost smiled, and Pilar saw it.

“Alright, you’re right,” Pilar said, cutting her another bite and placing it in her mouth. “Nobody can cook like you. Don’t let it go to your head. But you taught us to cook better than most people.”

Aoibheann accepted another bite wordlessly.

“You know, Ariadne used to use Blue’s tricks to fix up that abandoned house, Alan’s house, and I used to show you all the martial arts tricks, and you’d be rapt with attention,” Pilar said. “When me and Ari started dating, we had a friendly debate about it. See, I thought you had a crush on her, and she thought you had a crush on me. Joke’s on us, turns out you were more than capable of having both.”

Aoibheann came close to smiling again.

“Funny, that’s a fond memory now. Back then, it was the worst year of our life,” Pilar said. “Wonder what we’ll remember fondly from now, when we’re older.”

Aoibheann’s fractional smile faded away. She couldn’t imagine anything worth cherishing from this time. But then, she couldn’t back then, either.

“And we don’t have to talk about…” Pilar cut herself off. “I mean, the… what we’ve had together… The unspoken closeness between the three of us. Rare as it might be that we’ve acted on it, it’s still special to me. To us.The problem has never been that we don’t feel about you, the way you feel about us. If you wanted... what’s between the three of us... to be more, it’d be yours in a heartbeat.”

Aoibheann looked down at her lap.

“We’ve always loved you, Cookie,” she explained. “And don’t get twisted up on the definitions. Every sense of the word. Whatever you’re thinking I surely can’t mean… I mean it. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I just hate to think that… I mean… we’re going into the most dangerous time we’ve ever faced. If something happens, to me or to Ari… I just want to know you know what you mean to us. To me.”

Pilar gave her another bite, and Aoibheann didn’t fight her on it.

“Do you remember our wedding?” Pilar asked, and laughed. “Of course you do. Hard to forget something like that. Do you remember how angry you were that we wouldn’t let you cook us a grand feast?”

There was a spark in her eyes that demonstrated that she had not, in fact, entirely let this go.

“We stole the supplies for hamburgers from a local grocery store, and made Beam cook them,” Pilar said. “We actually almost got caught, pulled over for speeding on the way home. Ariadne told the cop her name was Ariadne Baltimore. Small town, local cops, everybody knew their parents, they figured they’d just miscounted the sisters, and let her go. Idiots.”

Pilar sighed.

“You weren’t allowed to cook because Ariadne needed you by her side,” she explained. “You were her maid of honor for a reason, Cookie. Our crew, our marriage, our family… where would we be without you? Would we even be us?”

Pilar offered Aoibheann another bite, and she didn’t take it. Pilar looked concerned. She hadn’t eaten nearly enough to be satisfied yet.

“What is it?” Pilar asked.

Aoibheann opened her mouth, thought hard, her eyes darting back and forth as though she was trying to make sense of something she couldn’t put words to.

“Aoibheann, are you… are you alright?” Pilar asked. “Should I get Sasha?”

Aoibheann shook her head vigorously. She had been lost in her depression for months, wondering if she was really better off waking up in the morning, but suddenly, the floodgates had come open, and she couldn’t wait one more second to let out what had been eating at her and destroying her soul ever since they’d lost the station.

Her voice was dry and raspy. She had not spoken more than two consecutive words in weeks, and her body vehemently protested the sudden change in this policy.

“Was it my fault?” She asked, thinking back to a conversation she'd had with their tormentor years ago. “Did I do this to us?”

****

“Excellent work today, everyone,” Cookie’s voice boomed through the kitchen. “The festivities went off without a hitch. This is an anniversary our captain won’t soon forget.”

“Thank you, Chef,” her crew echoed back.

“Dismissed,” she said to the assembled kitchen staff, and then quietly approached one of the greener pirates who’d recently started the galley rotation that was mandatory for the whole crew. “Libby, a word?”

Cookie ushered Libby into a small room at the back, which she used for prep when she was working on more intimate, personal projects. This was the room where she prepared birthday meals for Spacebreather, Ariadne, and Sasha. This was the table on which she’d painstakingly crafted Ariadne and Pilar’s wedding cake. The small walk-in freezer was the one where she’d had a brief, clumsy tryst with Blue on a rare visit to the station, after Cookie had enraged her by challenging her to a contest to see who could make a better mole negro oaxaqueño sauce, and then winning it.

Libby had been invited into the inner sanctum, and the look on Cookie’s face made it absolutely clear that it was not an honor.She was in deep trouble. Worse still, there was a salt shaker on the table in front of her.

“Do you think this is funny, lass?” Cookie asked. “Is this a fun game to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chef,” Libby said, actually looking somewhat convincing.

“The cap of the salt shaker was unscrewed. One shake, and dinner would’ve been ruined.” Cookie said. “It was your responsibility to set the table in the captain’s quarters.”

Libby got immediately defensive. “Anybody could’ve done that,” she said, “I didn’t do it, it’s totally unfair that you--”

“Anybody could’ve,” Cookie said. “But I gave you a responsibility. You were responsible for the Captain’s table. You signed off on a table with an unscrewed salt shaker on it. That makes you responsible for the salt shaker, whether you placed it there or not.”

“How is that fair?” Libby replied indignantly.

“Lass, why do you think Ariadne requires all crew to complete a rotation in my kitchen before they’re cleared for field service?” Cookie asked.

“She needs someone to cook for her?” Libby asked derisively.

Cookie sneered. She did not care for Libby, and never had. The girl seemed to attract drama. How, she wondered, could someone with so few friends be so perpetually in the middle of a falling out with a group of them? “And why do you think my standards are so meticulous?” Cookie asked.

Libby declined to answer, because she knew her honest answer would get her in trouble, but her face betrayed what she wanted to say: “Because you’re a huge bitch?”

Cookie answered her own rhetorical questions. “The skills you need to be successful in here, will be invaluable to you out there. You didn’t go over your loadout with a fine-toothed comb. You didn’t take the responsibilities you were trusted with seriously. You allowed your crewmates to operate with faulty equipment, that, had I not intervened, would’ve caused the mission objective to fail.”

“To be clear,” Libby said, “the ‘mission’ was serving them dinner.”

“IN HERE IT’S DINNER,” Cookie bellowed, her eyes full of all the rage and fire that she kept tamped down in her heart every second of every day, and slammed her fists on the table, knocking down the salt shaker. The chrome lid clattered off, and salt spilled onto the teak countertop. Cookie wordlessly grabbed a pinch of it and tossed it over her left shoulder. “In here, you fail in your duties and it means dinner isn’t very good that night. Out there, you fail in your duties and your sisters in arms die. That’s why Ariadne makes you work with me before you’re allowed to work for her. You can’t be trusted to handle the stakes out there if your team, and your commanding officer, can’t even trust you to do your job correctly when the stakes are only whether tonight’s chicken will be a little dry. Is that crystal clear?”

Libby looked as though she was about to protest, or accuse Cookie of being melodramatic, but Cookie cut her off. “Think very carefully about what you say next,” she said, “and if you’re lost as to what answer I’m looking for...” She pointed at the band that she kept tied around her head, so that even if one of her brilliant red hairs slipped out of its tight bun, it would still not fall into her face. It was white, and said, in bold black text, “YES CHEF.”

Libby grumbled. “Yes, chef,” she said. “next time, I’ll check the table settings more carefully.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cookie said. “But I think it’s important that you know… I know you put the shaker on the table.”

“What?!” Libby snapped.

“If the Captain, or her first mate, were to be poisoned, I would need to be able to verify who’d done the deed.” Cookie said. “Every step of my meal preparation is accounted for. There is a record of every action taken in this kitchen, cupboard-to-table. If something goes wrong with a meal, within seconds I will be able to identify the point of failure and exactly who was responsible for preventing it. Of course, it helps to have a private video feed into the captain’s quarters.”

Cookie tossed her communications device onto the table, and hit play. It projected a small, but surprisingly clear, hologram of Libby setting the table, smirking as though struck with an idea, and unscrewing the cap of the salt shaker.

“You have… a security camera… in their quarters?!” Libby asked.

“I’m the only person in the system they trust with it,” Cookie said. “I trust them with my life, and they trust me with theirs. Now, I gave you a chance to confess to your little prank, and you decided to lie, to pass the buck onto someone else. I’m afraid I can’t let that slide. I’ll have to fail you for this rotation. Come back at the start of the next one and you can reapply.”

“What?!” Libby snapped again. “I’m two days away from finishing! I have to start my galley rotation over again just because you caught me playing a harmless prank on your little pervy peep-show?”

“Call it pervy if you like,” Cookie said dismissively. “The nature of my relationship with the captain and her first mate is enthusiastically sanctioned and is, frankly, none of your concern. The behavior you showed in here, would’ve only spoiled Captain Ariadne’s dinner. If you showed the same level of carelessness and irreverence out there, it might’ve gotten someone killed. ‘Harmless’ indeed. You’re not responsible enough for field work until you can prove you can handle kitchen duty.”

“This is bullshit,” Libby said, gathering up her things to storm out of the room. “Like it even matters whether that bitch’s little dinner is ruined.”

Cookie slammed her fists on the counter again.

“Captain Ariadne is the greatest woman who ever lived,” Cookie growled, “and if I hear you speak of her like that in my presence again, you’ll lose a hell of a lot more than your galley rotation.”

Libby moved to storm out, but Cookie rushed the door and held it shut.

“Now, you listen to me, you little twerp,” Cookie said, jabbing a finger into Libby’s chest, shaking with anger. “That woman pulled me out of the gutter-- pulled all of us out of the gutter. There is nothing more important than the work she does, and we are the beating heart that allows her to do it. So if you want to be a part of this crew, you’ll show her some goddamned respect and start taking your work fucking seriously.”

Libby looked furious.

“What do I want to hear?” Cookie asked pointedly.

Pilar was astonished. “You think… because you were hard on the Nameless in her galley rotation… that she went totally off the rails, tried to kill us, and drove us out of our home?”

“Yes, chef,” Libby grumbled after a beat, and Cookie allowed her to pass.

****

“She tried to say we were like a cult,” Cookie said weakly. “That we were just minions blindly following Ariadne’s orders. That we turned against anybody who didn’t fall in line.”

“Is any of that true?” Pilar asked rhetorically. “Does the crew actually act like that?”

Cookie let the tears come. “I do,” she said. “What if she… how do I know she isn’t holding my devotion, my zeal, against the entire crew?”

“You… blindly follow Ariadne’s orders?” Pilar asked, entirely rhetorically. “That’s a surprise, I thought you really believed in our mission.”

Cookie was taken aback. “I do!’

Pilar smiled. “There’s some of that fire,” she said. “I’ve missed it. Aoibheann… when is the last time Ariadne actually gave you an order?”

Cookie had to think about this, but came up short.

“Exactly,” Pilar said. “This is what’s been eating you, all this time?”

Aoibheann looked afraid to reply, so she just asked what she’d wanted to ask, ever since they were driven out of their home.

“Do you forgive me?” She asked. “Does she… does she forgive me?”

Pilar looked Aoibheann square in the eyes. “Cookie, you’ve never needed our forgiveness. An insane terrorist attacked our home. There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent that.”

This was not what Aoibheann wanted to hear.

Pilar sighed. “Of course we forgive you, Aoibheann,” she said in a voice that sounded entirely earnest, but using words that betrayed how sarcastic she was being: “for not allowing someone who turned out to be a sexual predator and an actual serial killer tamper with our food and ruin our anniversary. We forgive you for being the most devoted friend we’ve ever had. Because someone else mistreated us, it must’ve been wrong that you treated us right. We will always forgive you for loving us, Aoibheann. You will never lose our forgiveness for that.”

Aoibheann was struck speechless again.

“Don’t go quiet on me,” Pilar said affectionately, “I just got you to talk again! I’ve missed your voice.”

“I appreciate your taking care of me,” Cookie admitted, “while I’ve been… not myself.”

Pilar gently put her hand on Aoibheann’s, and gave it a squeeze, and then told her the most reassuring truth she had.

“The Nameless is a user,” she said. “She wants a bunch of people who act like puppets and put her well-being first. Ariadne spends every second of every day encouraging her crew to think and act for themselves, and to put each other’s well-being above all else. That’s why she thinks Ariadne’s a tyrant. Not because you defended her honor after a sociopath tried to ruin her anniversary and then called her a bitch.”

Aoibheann felt as though she’d just received absolution for something that had been dragging her through the muck for months. How could she not believe Pilar, of all people? She began to cry openly.

“Hey, hey,” Pilar said, “it’s okay! I got you.”

“I’ve let the crew down,” she said, “had them eating this flavorless mush for however many months. I’ll be back at a stove first thing in the morning, don’t you worry--”

Pilar laughed. “Aoibheann… Cookie, I’m glad you’re back but… don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Let your apprentices handle it for a bit. Besides, you haven’t walked by yourself in a pretty long time. It’ll take a bit before you’re seaworthy again, let alone fit to run a kitchen.”

Aoibheann looked downcast. “Well, I’ve spent enough time sitting around like a lump being no good to anybody,” she said indignantly.

“You’re plenty good to us,” Pilar said flatly, “just by being here. We love you, Cookie. You don’t need to… justify your existence by being a devoted servant.”

Aoibheann was uncomfortable with this sentiment, and it showed on her face. This was, after all, how she showed her affection for Ariadne and Pilar. How could she show them her love and devotion without being able to cook for them?

“I don’t know how to…” Cookie began. “Please… Please, just… tell me what to do.”

Pilar sighed. She knew Cookie was far too devoted to her duties to go completely without orders. “She and I will be back in a few hours, for dinner. Let her hear your voice. Tell her you love her, and wish her luck on her procedure. If you have the strength, give her a hug. And, most importantly, just… please, be okay. Be kind to yourself and take all the time you need to get back on your feet. We’ve only got the one Cookie, so take care of her for us, okay?”

Cookie smiled, and squeezed Pilar’s hand back with what little strength she could muster.

Pilar picked up the now-empty tray that the MRE had been on. “Now that you’re back, do I have your permission to start up the kitchens? Let your apprentices do some real cooking?”

Cookie nodded her head.

“Then I guess this is truly an event worth of celebration: you’ve had your last Meal-Ready-To-Eat,” Pilar laughed. “I’ll see you tonight, Cookie. I want to put some meat back on your bones, so I’ll be cooking, and I expect you to be looking over my shoulder and barking orders at me the whole time.”

Cookie looked at her and smiled, and Pilar’s heart melted. It had been a long time since anyone had seen that.

****

Cookie’s apprentices stood in a straight line at the back of the Hotpot Spot, an abandoned restaurant that Sweettalk had identified as her childhood favorite. Cookie, wearing the chef’s coat she’d fled the station in, freshly laundered, and her trademark “YES CHEF” headband, limped into the restaurant, supported by a cane that Sweettalk had fished out of her childhood home, and said had belonged to her grandfather.

Cookie was still not back to full strength, but her apprentices could see the fire they’d come to fear and love had returned to her eyes.

“As you may have noticed,” Cookie announced, the natural loudness of her voice undiminished by her time indisposed, “I have been… unwell, of late. As such, I am unable to resume my duties at this time.”

Her staff turned to her chief apprentice, Yellow, for guidance. Yellow remained silent, so the rest of them did as well.

“It’s alright, kids,” she said, stamping the cane on the ground loudly. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not my old self yet. It’s fine. I wouldn’t feel right resuming my post here anyhow. This isn’t my kitchen. I’ve called you all here because you are the apprentices most equipped to run a kitchen of your own.”

Yellow nodded in assent.

“As such, I have a new directive for each of you, until such time as we’ve retrieved my kitchen, and I’m back to my usual vim and vigor, each of you is to select one of the defunct restaurants in this town, take your pick of the remaining staff and any available volunteers, and you will run your kitchens to the standard I have taught you.”

Cookie sighed.

“I know what you all think,” she said. “I know what you’ve said to me, in the past. You think your best is only a pale imitation of my cooking. But I need you all to know that… isn’t true.”

“Chef?” Yellow asked.

“I was the fourth person on this crew, lass,” Cookie said. “The first person to join, after the founding members. At the beginning, we had one mission: Keep Sasha Fed. There is nothing I value more highly than that mission. I live for it, and if I’m blessed with the chance, I will happily die for it. We may have expanded the definition of ‘Sasha’ to include everyone we love, but this mission is and will always be my life’s labor. Food doesn’t just sustain us. It is love, in physical form. The Captain and the First Mate have been very gracious to me, in the time we’ve known each other, by allowing me to show them my love and devotion in the way I’m able to offer. Over the last nine months, they have shown me the devotion was not one-sided, and given me the love I was able to accept. So your mission is, as it always has been: get in the kitchen, and show your love to the crew. Fill their bowls with it, in the way only you can, with or without me. And when your cup is empty…”

Cookie choked up a bit, and did a halfway decent job masking it.

“...When your cup is empty, allow those who love you to fill it back up, until you’re ready to pour from it again.”

After a long, uncomfortable beat, her crew shouted back “Yes, Chef!”

“I have been derelict in my duties,” Cookie said. “I let you go this many months without loving one another properly, because you wouldn’t do it without me.”

“Chef, permission to speak freely?” One of her younger apprentices, a quiet young boy who specialized in pastries, piped up.

“Granted,” Cookie said.

“You never ordered us not to run the kitchens without you. In fact, before…” He paused carefully, then opted to leave it unsaid, “before, you always taught us how to take the lead for the rest of the crew, when you had to cook for the Captain’s table. We wouldn’t run the kitchens without your say-so because…”

“It’s okay, lad, no need to be scared of the likes of me,” she reassured him.

“We were ordered not to,” he told her. “The Captain was very clear: ‘There’s no crew without Cookie.’”

Cookie leaned on her cane and looked a bit sad.

“She couldn’t handle it, Chef,” Yellow explained. “Knowing somebody else was doing your work, while you were suffering the way you were.”

Now Cookie could feel her heart melt. “She said that, did she?”

The young baker boy winced. “She said that there’s nothing more important than the work you do, and that everything the crew does, is just so you can do it,” he said. “She said… well, she said she was derelict in her duty to you, and that she couldn’t replace you until she’d made it right. Until you’d forgiven her for letting you down.”

Cookie laughed. “We’ve known each other a long time, indeed,” she said. “The captain is a sentimental one, I’m afraid. She blames herself for all this. For my condition. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s still more Catholic than she’d like to admit.”

Everyone’s eyes flared at this. Of course none of them would tell her she’d said that, as they all valued keeping their heads attached to their necks too much. Cookie was one of the only people in the system who could get away with saying something like that in front of Ariadne.

“She could never let me down if she tried,” Cookie said, “and even if she did, I will always forgive her. That you can repeat to her. Now, that’s enough prattling on from an old fool. You all have restaurants to open. To work!”

“Yes, Chef!” Her apprentices all shouted, and broke formation to claim their restaurants.

“And remember,” she shouted after them. “If you talk to the Captain, this was her idea!”

She had, in fact, passed her forgiveness along to Ariadne the previous day, before her surgery, and assured her that she didn’t need forgiveness, the same way Pilar had done to her. After her procedure, Ariadne wouldn’t remember Cookie giving her consent to reopen the kitchens, but she was delighted that when she came out of it, she seemingly remembered, on some level, that she had been absolved of all wrongdoing.

She was relieved when, during the fight Alicia staged with her, Ariadne had suggested they put her apprentices to work in the kitchens. Despite being set back several months, she was done punishing herself, and letting everyone else punish themselves with her. It was a do-over many were not fortunate enough to get, and after all she’d lost, Aoibheann was not one to turn her nose up at a second chance.

****

Months later, when all this was over and Sasha’s medicine and a lot of good eating had restored her muscles into mostly proper working order-- she still felt uneasy at times, and preferred to keep the cane on hand, just in case-- they were repatriated to their home, the Nameless had been defeated, and the station had erupted into a celebratory frenzy. Yellow and the kitchen staff had burned the candle at both ends to supply enough party snacks to keep anyone from drowning in all the wine. Two former crew members, Baltimore and Beam, had returned to the station to join in the celebrations. Sweettalk and Sasha had, believing themselves slick, pulled Ghostrunner and her new girlfriend Vigil back to their quarters. Alicia had brought Blue back to the station and, in the haze of wine, loudly announced her intention to start a relationship with her, before disappearing back to her own quarters. Cookie and Blue had, despite their past rivalry, a deep, abiding respect for one another, and Blue was one of the few people who was authorized to do as she pleased in the kitchen. Cookie knew firsthand that after Blue’s enthusiastic and athletic lovemaking, she would likely need something to eat, and a bit more wine, so she’d set a bottle of red and a bowl of fresh mozzarella in conspicuous locations in the hopes that she would find them. Cookie was, uncharacteristically, not in the kitchen that night.

If she had learned anything from the past year, it was that she had to sometimes set the weight of the world down, and allow the people she loved to take care of her as much as she took care of them. So, as had become tradition, once per month, she would retire to the Captain’s quarters instead of her own, and allow her friends to show them how much they loved her. Pilar spent the day marinating meats, just the way Cookie had taught her, and Ariadne had built a heating element into her personal dining table so that Pilar could cook them some of Cookie’s favorite foods.

They would then retire to the bedroom for a night of passion-- Ariadne always had some new device she’d built and wanted to show off. Being married to Spacebreather, she was in the unfortunate position of being a bit of a pillow princess, but not on pillow principle, and so never had anyone else to use it on, and Cookie was the only person other than Ariadne who Spacebreather was willing to touch. They would spend this time laughing, and experimenting, and making sure not an inch of her, or the captain, went unkissed, and then they would fall asleep in each other’s arms, all the while gossiping and reminiscing the way they had back on Mars.

Sometimes, on these nights, Cookie would think back to what Spacebreather said to her, during her episode, about how if she ever wanted something more between them, she could have it.

The thing was, she didn’t want something more. She treasured these nights they had together, but as far as she was concerned, nothing had changed about what they were to her. They were her best friends, and they were her calling in life. She would, to the best of her ability, serve their mission with almost religious zeal. Even unto her death, she would prioritize keeping her loved ones happy and healthy. She had already loved them, more, she believed, than she could ever love anyone else, even when they had started an exclusive relationship with one another, and she was just a heartbroken teenager pining after them both. How could she want something more, when she couldn’t even imagine something better than what she already had?

The first time the three of them had ever fallen into bed together, years after Ariadne and Pilar had made it clear they were soulmates, they had been a ball of teenage hormones, propelled by a raunchy party game that had gotten a bit out of hand. Aoibheann had awoken mortified and furious at herself for daring to succumb to her own desires like this. Her whole life, whenever she’d allowed herself to love something, it was taken away, and that only when she accepted that something was beyond her grasp, would she stand a chance of being lucky enough to attain it. She was sure that by admitting to her wants, and acting on them, she had ruined everything. Except, Ariadne and Pilar noticed her embarrassment and simply chose to behave as though nothing had changed. It had happened only occasionally in the past, and each time, Ariadne and Pilar would wait for Cookie to bring it up. Otherwise, it was completely unspoken.

The one crucial difference was, now, Aoibheann “Cookie” Gyeong, once the saddest girl on Mars, had finally accepted that it was okay to want, and to act on those wants, that this was not following the goblin lights to her death as her mother had. She, who loved her life so much that she shut down for the better part of a year when she feared it had changed irreparably, spent most of her time refusing to acknowledge what she loved about it. She did her job, showed her love, and asked for nothing in return except for the ability to keep doing it.

“You know,” Ariadne said, running her fingers through Aoibheann’s long, smooth, bright red hair, as a sleeping Pilar cradled them both in her arms, “we don’t do any of this for you. We do it because we like doing it. It’s fun for us.”

Cookie laughed. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” she quipped.

Ariadne smiled, and told her something she’d waited years to be sure Cookie would be ready to hear. “Thank you,” she said, “for being my friend. For loving me. For making what we do worth it.”

Aoibheann shot a smile right back. “I could say the same to you.”

[written-in-flowers]

Kimura Delivery Service: Part 2

Chapter 2: W is for White Rascals

Pairing: fem!OC x Rocky

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Fluff

Fandom: High & Low: The Story of S.W.O.R.D

Summary: After a life of swinging her fists, Sakyia is hopeful about her easy going job of delivering packages...However, her aunt neglected to mention the "regulars": The gang leaders of S.W.O.R.D. and the undeniable affection they all grow to have for her.

Overall Warnings: blood and violence, fighting, gang activity, crime, mentions of death, multiple relationships, girlboss being a girlboss, not really 'poly' but girl has a string of lovers,

Part 1 <; | > Chapter 3

Tagged: @belle64 @straysugzhpe (if you'd like to be tagged, let me know in the replies!)

***

Once she got a feel for the delivery service, Sakyia began enjoying it more. Her aunt appeared more backed up in orders than she’d realized. Every morning, Sakyia woke up, did her usual routine, put on her jacket and went downstairs. She’d grown to like the Sannoh neighborhood and the people in it. People welcomed her with smiles instead of scowls. They offered her things like bundles of apples for her health or insisted she take a basket of baked goods to her mother. Sakyia had never met such kind people before. Though, with every good aspect comes a bad one. Cobra did not lie when he mentioned the gangs to her. She’d been told what streets to avoid, and what the people wore so should she see them, she could avoid them. Sakyia knew better than to seek out a fight with more than possibly two or three people; she could fight well, but not that well. Whenever anyone asked her, Sakyia said she’d simply drive away if they chased her. During her first week, she didn’t run into anyone particularly bothersome, but she kept herself on guard for the moment it came.

“Just run away,” her mother warned her during their lunch break together. “I don’t want you coming back to me bruised up and bloody.”

“I have no interest in fighting anyone,” she replied, sitting curled on her barber chair and eating her lunch. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“Mhm,” she responded, unconvinced as she prepared her station for her next client. “I see you with that punching bag you found outside. You’re always punching and kicking it like it owes you money.”

She and the other girls chuckled. The Ichiago Milk girls came to the salon as they’d said. Askua sat at a nail station, having a young woman working on her fingers. The twins both finished having their hair styled, and Junko took their place. Sakyia liked having them around; they treated her as one of them and her mother liked them. 

"It's good exercise," Sakyia said. "It keeps me in shape."

And also prepared. She still hadn't told her mother about the SWORD gangs, though she'd approached Hana about it. 

"You know if I'd told you in front of your mother, she'd forbid it. I didn't tell you because I thought you might say 'no'. If you want to back out, then I'll understand."

Sakyia kept the job when her aunt raised her pay. She'd told Hana if fighting off thugs is a job hazard, she'd be compensated for it. Still, she kept it from her mother. Finishing her lunch, she checked her phone. She had a pick up order in half an hour, but she could do a drop off or two beforehand. 

"Pfft, as if you need it," said Junko. "Your body's perfect. All the boys are always staring at you."

"I don't do it for boys, Junko."

"They stare anyways," she replied, staying still in her seat as the stylist started on her hair. "I wish I knew how you did it. All of them like you."

Sakyia knew she said this from a place of curiosity, not jealousy. Shiba and Oshiage told her Junko could be boy crazy, often falling in love with any pretty boy she sees. Sakiya didn't understand it at all, but she didn't judge. 

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't pay much attention to them."

"They pay attention to you," said Shiba with a teasing smile. 

"Especially Cobra," her sister gave an identical smile. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking at him."

"It's super cute," Askua said. 

Sakyia blushed, focusing on her phone instead. "Hush, you two," she said in a small voice, hiding her face. "He's not interested, and I wouldn't care if he was. He's just a guy."

A guy who made her feel 'the butterflies' whenever he came around. 

"Ugh, you're so stubborn, Sakyia," Junko huffed. "If I even looked half as good as you…"

"You're beautiful as you are, Junko, and someone will see that soon," she assured her. "In the meantime, I gotta go."

"Already?" The twins said in unison. 

"I have a long list," she said. She kissed her mother's cheek, "I might be back late. Don't wait for me."

"You know I will anyway."

She said farewell to the ladies and began her route. Sakyia went about her day making deliveries and picking up packages to take across town. Regulars already knew her by the second week, and prepared their "tips". These usually came in forms of money, but she sometimes received other items: charms, trinkets, books, or groceries. Sakyia didn’t mind. She’d grown to enjoy it honestly. It became one of the little perks of having the courier position. She usually came home with money to put in the box underneath her mother’s bed, and other things. 

A particularly heavy package made her pause midday. On the top, the receiver’s name was printed on the sticker label. ‘Asahina Yamato, Asahina Motors.’ Yamato happened to be Cobra’s best friend who ran a mechanic shop. This means the possible chance of running into Cobra there. She couldn’t avoid delivering it; she thought about what the other ladies said about him: how he often looked at her when she didn’t notice and his obvious interest in her. Sakyia doubted it, but she couldn’t help flexing her scarred hand when she thought about him. Not many asked about her scars. Usually because they didn’t notice them, but Cobra’s too observant for her. 

She put the mechanic shop in her navigation app, and headed there. The garage door remained wide open, and she saw a trio of motorcycles parked out front. Much like the rest of Sannoh, the building appeared old needing a fresh coat of paint and cleaner windows. Sakyia liked it this way. It reminded her of home, strangely enough. She parked her scooter near the garage entrance, and peeked inside to see a seating area with two worn out couches and a low coffee table. On one of them, she saw Yamato cleaning an engine part with a rag. On the other, she saw Cobra. She took a second to observe him: he leaned back on the couch, smoking a cigarette and relaxed. He appeared to be in thought, deep thought from what she guessed. Yamato didn’t seem to mind since the engine part kept him occupied. She wondered what he could be thinking about. She knew almost nothing about him, but if she learned things about him then he’d have to learn about her. She didn’t know if she wanted to share anything personal about herself. 

“I’m glad Noboru is back and well,” said Yamato. “I hope he’s right about the casino project and Kuryu.”

“He is,” Cobra responded. “Kuryu is going to destroy this town and rebuild it; we can’t let them do that. It’ll ruin so many people’s lives, and change everything.”

“It doesn’t help that it’s corrupted as well.” 

Kuryu? Casino project? She’d never heard anything about it. Her aunt told her that some parts of the town went under redevelopment, and housing costs went up. Luckily, it’d yet to touch the delivery business. The news disheartened her slightly. She’d only arrived in the town. Moving a second time won’t be easy for her, her mother, or Auntie Hana. 

“Are you going to keep standing in the doorway or actually come inside, Sakyia?” Cobra’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she blushed bashfully. 

“Oh, um, well, uh…I didn’t want to interrupt anything important,” she said, shuffling into the light. “I have a package for Yamato.”

“Oh good, it’s here!” Yamato smiled, standing up immediately. “It’s the new part for my bike,” he told them both, coming outside to see the heavy box in her cart. He lifted it out for her to bring inside, “I couldn’t find it anywhere in town, so I had to order it. Now I can get rid of that annoying rattling sound.”

“If you just sign here,” she felt Cobra’s eyes on her, and ‘the butterflies’ came back, “I can head on out of your way.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Yamato took her clipboard to sign, and she gazed around the shop. “Your family owns this place, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, my dad did,” he said. “He’s the one who taught me how to fix cars and bikes.” He saw her scooter outside, “Is it running okay? Koichi often had trouble with the wheels.”

“It’s doing okay so far,” she replied, trying her best to ignore Cobra, “It’s old, but it runs well enough.” 

“You seem pretty at home on it,” Cobra finally spoke, putting out his cigarette on an ashtray. “Have you ridden one before?” 

“Not really, but it’s mostly about maintaining balance and I’m pretty good at that.” Thanks to Jiro and the hours he made her walk on a beam in their backyard. She could still feel the bar on her feet sometimes. “My dad rode a motorcycle, so I sort of picked up tips from him.”

“So, then you like guys with bikes?” Yamato asked, handing her the clipboard. “Cobra and I go riding all the time, right Cobra?” he glanced over at him with a grin, and Cobra returned it with indifference. “You should come with us sometime. Cobra’s bike is big enough to fit two.”

The image of her riding with Cobra crossed her mind. It reminded her of her parents: her dad steering and her mom’s arms wrapped around him, her cheek on his shoulder and a smile on her face. She pushed it from her mind, “Eh, thanks for the offer, but I think I’m fine on my scooter.” She checked the signature, ripping off Yamato’s copy and giving it to him. “Thanks, guys. See ya around.”

Run. Run from Cobra and his pretty, observant eyes. 

“Wait,” Yamato called to her, “Your tip.” He dug in his overall pocket to hand her a few bills, which she pocketed.  “Are you hungry?” He asked her, “My mom made some rice balls.”

A snack did sound good. The constant traveling and moving about worked up an appetite. But, this meant being in Cobra’s presence. “Sure,” she shrugged, “I could eat.” 

"Great! Have a seat. I'll be back."

Cobra followed his friend with his eyes while Sakyia took the couch opposite him. Yamato's absence left a tense air between them. He and Noboru had been alone when Sakyia rushed out of the gas station. No doubt Noboru told him at least part of her story. 

"So, why did they call you 'Viper'?" Cobra asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. When she froze, he said, "Noboru mentioned it to me yesterday. He said you fought in the warehouse fight clubs."

'Fight Club' implies people wanted to be there. She shifted in her seat, regretting the rice ball offer. "People did. I didn't like it."

"Why?"

"Because it was a lame nickname," she said. "They called me that because I was fast."

"I thought you didn't know how to fight?" She saw a shadow of a smile on his face. 

"I'd…well…I'd rather not talk about that part of my life," she said, fidgeting with the loose threads on her jeans. "I’m not very proud of it,” Especially after Yoshi. She looked around the garage once more, and saw photographs nearby. She saw a few photos of Yamato, Cobra and Noboru, all smiling and happy. A very stark contrast to the brooding man she’d come to meet. “You’re close to him,” she said, “Noboru, I mean.”

“We’ve been best friends since childhood,” he replied. “We grew up in this town together. That's why we want to save it. It’s our home.”

“From the redevelopment project?” she assumed. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The Kuryu families want to build a casino here, and it’s causing people to move out and abandon their businesses. Tettsu’s family is already thinking of closing their bath house.”

“Hm, what a shame,” she grinned, “I never got to go.” 

Recalling Tettsu’s offer that first night made them both chuckle softly. Sakyia admitted she liked his smile. “It really is a shame though. This place was starting to grow on me. Even with the thugs that hang around this town; the people are really nice. I'm not used to that."

"They see that you're a good person," he said. When she turned to him, "It's a small place. Word spreads around quickly."

"Very quickly."

"I'm back!" 

Yamato returned with a plate of triangular rice balls. Sakyia reached forward to grab one, and her hand brushed right into Cobra’s. The brief touch felt alien to her, but did not make her skin crawl. In fact, it made her want to hold it. They both blushed and picked up opposite ones. She turned the conversation to Yamato, doing her best to avoid what happened. She asked about his family and his garage. She couldn't help noticing Cobra watching her. When will that ever stop? 

"-Then something serious happened with Noboru, and we wanted to give him a place to come home to," Yamato concluded. "But, as you know, he ended up working for Ieruma instead."

"I kind of don't blame him. He must've felt so alone and lost. It'd be like them to corner someone like that," she said. "Luckily, he has you two." Sakyia wished she had friends like that. Perhaps things might have turned out differently. "He did do good things with them, though. He helped my mother and I get away from my stepfather and his debt collectors. Because of his cleverness, I didn't have to fight anymore."

"Fight? You fight? I thought you didn't," he said, bemused. 

She needed to start thinking before talking. "She used to fight in the warehouses on the bayside," Cobra answered for her. "Right?"

"Yeah."

"Wow!" Yamato said, eyes widened. "Those pit fights are no joke. I've heard they fight until someone's knocked out."

"Or yields," she added. 

"You must be good then," Yamato said. "Maybe even as good as Cobra. You should see him-"

"-Yamato-"

"-He's very fast and precise. He's tough stuff. He wouldn't be our leader if he wasn't."

Clearly, the praise bothered Cobra. Humbleness? Or is he like her and doesn't want to show their abilities yet? 

"I bet he is good," she said. "He looks like he could handle himself in a fight."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and realized she'd spent too long there. "Ah, crap, I gotta go," she said, standing up. "Thanks for the rice balls."

"Anytime. Really. Cobra and I are usually here during the day-"

"-Yamato-"

She giggled, "I'll see you two around."

She got back on her scooter to continue her route. Her stomach churned while she rode away. She shouldn't have said so much, but it came out of her. She'd hoped to keep that part of her life to herself; it isn't good and it's not who she is anymore. She worried they might think she's a fighting machine, which she was, but she wanted to leave that behind. She wanted to be normal. She wanted a regular life with regular friends. Her aunt already gave her a job because of what she could do.

Though, she did want to see Cobra fight one day. 

Sakyia rode through the day and into the night. Auntie Hana extended her routes after her first week, so she finally saw the rest of Chikuni City. It was drastically different from Sannoh. People had more money here, and the stores did not appear so run down or old. She walked into night clubs and bars full of people, dropping off packages at back doors and meeting the owners. Her aunt’s clients were glad her service was up and running; they all appeared to be too busy to deliver or pick up from her. She liked the people she'd met, though she still preferred those back in Sannoh. 

Downtown turned into a different place after dark. The lights drowned out the stars, and the noise of the streets filled the air. People walked out of various nightclubs and bars along the strip, and the atmosphere changed. She saw herself coming to such a lively place with friends, out for a night of drinking and dancing. Sakyia never went into a club before. But, fortunately, her route took her exactly there.

'Rocky Mutsugi, Club Heaven, 8pm.' The address of the place was printed alongside the name. Rocky Mutsugi's package was small, no larger than her fist and fit in her bag. She wondered what it could be, but she wouldn't dare ask. What the customers ordered or received isn't her business. The route took her to a nightclub where the name 'Club Heaven' went across the top in sleek, thin letters. A large man dressed in white stood outside the door, letting in groups of people at a time to avoid maximum capacity. Timidly approaching the front of the line, she showed the bouncer her clipboard and mentioned Rocky by name. 

"He's inside. VIP lounge," he answered in a gruff voice. 

A crowd of people protested when the bouncer allowed her through. Sakyia ignored them and walked inside. Music blared through speakers high on the dark walls and over the leather couches; the bright white lines shone from columns throughout the room and high above. A sea of people danced underneath colored lights; almost everyone there wore white. From the dancers on platforms, to the bartenders, and to the DJ at his elevated booth, everyone wore outfits of all white. Only a few of the clubbers wore different colors, usually the men, but some women did as well. Sakyia found it odd; she didn’t know clubs had dress codes. She put this aside and searched around for the VIP area. They're usually roped off from the rest of the room, but she saw no such place in the crowded room. 

Spotting a man in a white jacket and jeans, she walked over to him. His long black hair curtained his face, and he appeared to be scanning the room casually. She gulped thickly and spoke. 

"Uh, excuse me?" She caught his attention, "Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you knew where I could find Rocky Mutsugi? I'm Ms. Kimura’s courier?" She prayed to God that he knew what that meant.

Thankfully, he did. Yet, before he could say anything another man quickly came around the staircase and stepped between them. At least, Sakyia thought they were a man at first. Seeing them up close, there appeared to be a sense of femininity about them. She couldn't quite place it, but she sensed it. The woman glared at her, almost bothered by her presence. 

"Hey, he's not interested," she said spitefully. "So beat it-"

"-The hell?" Sakyia instantly shot back. "Look, I'm not interested in him. I'm looking for-"

"-She works for Hana, Kizzy," the man said in her ear. "She has Rocky's package."

The woman's eyes lit up at once and the disgust vanished in seconds. They swept a glance over Sakyia, then she spoke. 

"I'm so sorry! I thought you were hitting on my boyfriend," she apologized. "Welcome to Club Heaven, I'm Kizzy."

They shook hands. The sudden change in character surprised her. "Thanks," she said, "I was asking your boyfriend where I could find Rocky. I have his package and I don't want to be late giving it to him."

"Oh, honey, even if you were late, he'd still let it slide," Kizzy said. "He's upstairs. Follow me."

She followed the couple upstairs into a lounge area behind a door. Inside, she saw more dark furniture and a bar illuminated by white lights. On a long couch sat a group of women, all dressed in white. She noticed the men in the room wore white outfits, and appeared to be eyeing her once she walked in. So much damn white everywhere. Her body instantly tensed walking into the room. She hadn't run into any problems lately, and she hoped she didn't have to do it now. She remembered what Cobra said about the gangs of SWORD. These men must be one of them. 

She didn't want to fight. 

"Rocky," Kizzy said, "Ms. Kimura’s courier is here." 

The man in the center of the couch sat up. Blond hair perfectly coiffed and styled, he wore red circular glasses and a handcuff hung from his left wrist. Dark eyes scanned her over his sunglasses, which made her shift uncomfortably. She'll admit, he was handsome, so she understood why so many women sat near him. Something about him exuded confidence and power that attracted people to him.  His white coat had black zebra stripes down the sleeves, and he wore slacks. More white. Why so much damn white? It gave her a headache. He observed her for a moment, but did not speak. 

"Um, uh, hello," she said awkwardly. "I'm Sakyia. I have your package right here," she withdrew it from her bag to show him, clipboard under her arm. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding on anything, but the instructions said it had to be delivered to you directly," though she couldn't imagine what she's walking in on. 

"'Sakyia'...so close to 'Sakura', how sweet," giggled Kizzy. "Right, Rocky?" 

"Uh, yes, okay, well," Sakyia stepped forward but Rocky stood up. "Here's…the package."

He stood a few inches taller than her. Broad and smelling of sweet cologne, she didn't need anymore examples of why the women in the room eyed him so fondly. Men like him tended to have strings of admirers. It reminded her vaguely of Jesse, who often had a girl or two following him around. Though, he never paid them any mind, much like the man before her. 

"Hana never mentioned her courier would be a woman," he said, voice deep and rough, yet not off putting.  "This job can be dangerous for a woman riding alone."

"It's been fine so far. My aunt wouldn't have given me the job if she thought I could not handle it," she said, feeling the need to prove she could do the job. 

"Hana is your aunt?" He signed her clipboard. 

"Yes. My mother is her sister. We just moved here a week ago, and she offered me the job to help her out." Why was she telling him this? He didn't have to know all that. 

She saw a lit up monitor behind her flashing a logo. The words 'White Rascals' went across and beneath a wolf with a top hat and ruffled neck grinned maliciously.

"White Rascals?" she said thoughtfully. "That's your gang’s name?" 

"It is," he said, giving her the clipboard back. "You don't sound impressed."

"Should I be?" She asked him.  

"Most people are," he said. 

"Why's that? Is it because of all the white in here? Do you use it to blind people before you attack?"

He chuckled softly, "Downtown is our territory. Nothing goes on in this place without us knowing about it."

"Except that Hana has a new courier?"

"I knew about you," he said, coming closer. He noticed her body tense at his approach and he stepped back. "She only neglected to mention you're a woman, that's all."

"Does that bother you?"

"Hana's business can be dangerous," he said. "You really shouldn't ride alone after dark."

"Trust me. These little SWORD gangs don't frighten me. I've met worse people."

"Ooh, I like her," Kizzy smiled with a laugh. 

"It's not only the five gangs," Rocky told her. "There are others much worse. It's our job to protect women who come into our territory; we make sure they're safe and cared for. You're exactly the kind of woman those people would hurt."

"I'm not made of glass. I can handle myself."

Rocky surveyed her. "No, maybe you're made of something thicker."

"Have you met a lot of gangs then?" Kizzy asked, but her amused eyes stayed on Rocky. "If you're so fearless of them?"

"A few," she told them. "I've met plenty where I came from." 

"And where is it you came from?" Rocky asked her, unable to look away from her. 

"Chikuni Bay," she answered. 

"The warehouses district?"

"That's the one." She double checked her phone. It was getting late. "Well, thank you," she gave a short bow of her head, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr-"

"-Call me Rocky," he said, never looking away even once. "Stay for a drink. I imagine you've been riding around all day with how backed up Hana's business has been. You must be tired."

"No, thank you," she said politely. "I'm on my bike and it's getting late. My mother will be worried about me."

"Not even one?" Kizzy came to her side, pouting, "As a thank you for bringing the package all this way?"

"That's kind of you," she said, "But really I should go."

"You're free to come back whenever you like." Rocky handed her a small plastic card with the gang's symbol on it. She supposed it's meant to be a VIP card. "We'd love to have you."

"Thank you," she then smirked, "Would I have to be decked out in white too?" She asked, eyeing the people around them. 

He laughed, "Not if you don't want to. I imagine you're lovely in any color." 

Her cheeks burned when he said this. "Lucky for me, then. White isn't really my color." She stepped away before he spotted her pink cheeks. "I'll see you around then. Have a good night."

"Night, Sakyia."

She left the lounge on her own, going back down the stairs into the main floor. People danced around to the music, sat down on the leather couches talking and drinking, or otherwise enjoying the night club. She’d never been in such a loud place before. She often went deaf in a fighting pit, putting all her focus on her opponent. Here, there’s nobody to fight. There’s nobody coming up to her with anger flaring in their eyes. People are too absorbed into their own frivolity to notice her walking by. Sakyia gulped the dryness in her mouth, and thought she could at least have some water. She turned to the long white bar on one side of the room, and slipped between the patrons lining the front. The bartender, a young man with spiky dark hair, poured drinks expertly and took orders easily. When he finally reached her, he seemed relieved to have such an easy order. He handed her a water bottle, free of charge, and went back to his customers. 

Sakyia took a drink from the bottle before she noticed them. A few seats away sat a young woman in a short black dress, her hair and makeup done up pretty for the night. In front of her stood a man in a dark-colored suit, his black hair slicked back from his face, and a smug grin on his face. The woman appeared to be trying to ignore him, but the man wasn’t taking the hint. Sakyia spotted the woman’s discomfort at once, and her multiple attempts to leave the bar. Not that this worked. When she managed to side step him, the man pursued her. 

“Hey,” Sakyia called out from her seat, “She’s not interested, man. Leave her alone.”

The man sneered at her, “Ah, what? Jealous that I’m flirting with someone prettier than you?”

Ugh, so predictable. “No, I’ve had a long day and listening to this poor woman repeatedly telling you to fuck off is annoying me.” She looked at the woman, “Is this asshole bothering you?”

“Yeah, he is,” she nodded, glaring at the guy. 

“Oh come on, babe,” he smirked at her, reaching for her arm, “You know you want it. That’s why you’re wearing that dress.”

Sakyia grunted, putting the bottle in her bag and walking over to him. Roughly, she turned him to face her. His cocky grin made her want to smack it off. “No, she’s wearing it because she wants to look pretty; not so assholes like you could harass her.”

“Look, honey, if you’re jealous, you can wait your turn,” he eyed her up and down, “You’re not too bad if you take off the grubby jacket and pants.”

“As if I would. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot-pole.” She turned to the woman, “Did you come here with anyone?” 

“Yeah, my friends,” she climbed off the stool, not bothering to take the drink on the bar. “I lost them on the dance floor.”

Some friends, Sakyia thought. She nodded to the dancers, “Let’s go find them.”

She let the girl walk in front of her, before a rough hand grabbed her wrist tightly. It happened out of nowhere. She didn’t know what made her do it, but she did it. In a single swing, Sakyia’s right fist landed right into the man’s cheek. It knocked him back to the bar. Having been hit by a woman in a room full of people, she saw the embarrassment flooding red into his cheeks. Adrenaline immediately pumped through her body. Every muscle in her constricted, and she prepared for another attack. He glared at her. 

“You little bitch,” he snapped. 

He moved to hit her before she kicked him in the groin, which certainly stopped him. Two white figures came to her side, and she shielded the woman from any more attackers out of habit. Briefly, it reminded her of Jiro’s drunken nights; nights where her mother tried to protect her from him. She saw the two figures were Rocky and Kizzy. Kizzy looked at the man with disgust on her face, while Rocky roughly pulled him to his feet. 

“Get this scum out of our club,” Rocky said, the pommel of his cane under the man's chin. He stared down at him with pure hatred, as if he'd pummel the man himself. He then shoved him into the arms of two other white-clad men. “We’ll be watching you. If you hurt another woman like that again, we'll know.” 

“I’m-I’m sor-sorry,” he stammered. “Please, no. I won’t do it again.”

“You're right,” he said, and motioned for the men to remove him from the club. "You won't."

Sakyia’s hand burned. She’d hit harder than she’d intended, she knew. Unable to assess the damage in the club lighting, she stretched her fingers and winced. Her mother will have questions. She doubted it’d be bruised, but she’d need an ice pack when she went home. Turning around to the woman, she asked:

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah, thanks to you,” she sighed in relief. “That creep had been bothering me all night.”

“Kimi,” Rocky approached gently, the anger disappearing right away, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it,” she told her. “But thankfully, this woman saw him and told him to leave me alone.”

“From what I saw, she did more than tell him to leave,” Kizzy said, smiling over to Sakyia. 

“Sakyia, your hand,” Rocky reached forward to hold it, examining her knuckles. Nerves bubbled inside her stomach at his warm, tender touch. "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad," she half lied. She already felt her cheeks reddening from the embarrassment. She'd never planned on causing a scene in this man's club or leaving a nasty impression. "I'll be okay."

"You can hardly move it," he said, seeing her hand in the light. "Come, I'll get you ice for it."

"You don't have to-"

"-I insist."

Sakyia followed him to a quiet spot of the bar, where the bartender quickly grabbed an ice pack from beneath the counter. He gingerly placed the square on her right hand. The ice shocked her skin, and she almost withdrew but didn't. She shouldn't have hit the guy; it was an extreme reaction, but she couldn't help it. She regretted more with Rocky so close to her. The faint smell of cigars came from him, and she recognized the brand from the scent alone. Iwata Cigars. Her father used to smoke them. She liked it. 

"Do you often pick fights with men?" Rocky said, breaking through her thoughts. He was tracing his thumb over the faint scars on her left knuckles, particularly the long one in the middle. "You have plenty of these."

Lying felt pointless. Rocky saw her with his own eyes, and lying only insulted his intelligence. She snorted, "I used to fight often, yeah."

"How'd you get this one?"

"My fist clashed with the guy I was fighting, and it broke the bone." She then answered before she could stop herself, "It took me out of the pit for a while, so it worked out for me."

"Pit?" 

She wished she'd never said anything. "Um, uh, well…" she'd already opened the bag, "I used to fight before. Not because I wanted to," she said quickly. "I did it because we were poor and didn't have a lot of money." Half true. "It was better than the other option," a full truth that unsettled her stomach. "I don't do it anymore though. I swear I'm not a crazy person who acts violently like that. I don’t know. I saw that man harassing that woman, and it bothered me. She clearly didn’t have an interest in him, and he kept going anyway. I wanted to help her out and get her away from him. He came after me and I don't know…I didn’t mean to hit him like that; it’s a reflex I suppose. I hadn't meant to cause a scene in your club." 

Her stomach flopped admitting the fault to him. Seeing him in the lights, she saw his handsomeness close up. Tanned skin remained smooth and clear, she couldn’t help taking in his eyes and lips. A face she could draw for ages. Brown eyes stared over her features, and it made her suddenly nervous. Surely, he must be upset about it; any club owner would be. 

"I'm not angry," he said, as if he read her mind. "That scum deserved it. I would've done it myself if you hadn't taken care of him." He put the pack back on her hand carefully, "What upsets me is that you had to do it at all. I don't like women feeling unsafe here. I made this club so they had a safe place to be." 

"You certainly take their safety seriously."

"I do." He said, "I've seen too many terrible things happen to women. I couldn’t stand by and allow it to continue." He then said, tenderly, "Even to the ones who can handle themselves." She hoped the semi darkness hid her blushing cheeks, but Rocky’s vision is accustomed to the lighting. “Who taught you to fight? You must’ve been good if the scum at the warehouses let you fight there.” 

“My father,” she answered. “He was a boxer before he retired. The rest I learned from people around me.” 

“You shouldn’t have had to.”

Her phone pinged in her bag, and a quick look showed a text from her mother. It's grown far too late now. “I really should go,” she said, sliding off the stool and away from him. “Thank you for the ice, and I’m sorry again about that guy.”

“It’s no trouble, really,” he assured her. “I’m sure we’ll see one another soon. I enjoy your aunt’s service a lot.”

The prospect of meeting this man again blossomed excitement in her. “I’m sure we will,” she responded, “Goodnight, Rocky.”

“Night.”

She felt his eyes on her as she left him. During the route home, she thought about the gang leader. Suave and polished, he’s the mafia boss women write trashy romance novels about. He must think she’s some sort of hot-headed person, which she could be, but she tried her best. She’s not that person anymore. She hated that person. 

She wanted to be different. She wanted to be better. 

***

Rocky turned out to be one of her aunt’s most frequent clients. She mentioned this a few days after meeting him. Sakyia came downstairs in the morning to start packing drop-off boxes in her cart, while Auntie Hana flipped through her records on the counter. 

“Wow, we managed to catch up with Sannoh’s regular flow in such a short time,” Hana awed when she typed new information into the clunky old computer. “Everyone has been raving about you, honey,” she told Sakyia. “They’ve all told me how prompt and professional you are; I told them you’ve always been such a sweet girl.” 

“Bet they believed you,” Sakyia said from outside, figuring out where to put the last and tiniest package. “Being on-time is part of the job…” she found the right place and settled it down. 

“They said you’re definitely an improvement over Koichi,” she told her when she came back inside. “He used to be rough with the fragile stuff, and he could be reckless on that thing. I hope you’re being safe when you ride.”

“I am, Auntie,” she said. 

Hana typed down a few more lines, then printed out the day’s drop off and pick up list. Sakyia took it from the printer to read it, and bit the inside of her cheek. Rocky’s name is on the list. Multiple times. He had several pick up areas around the city, and they all needed to be dropped off at different times. Why didn’t he simply lump them together instead of getting them one by one? By the list, he has five in total throughout the day. She found it odd. 

"Auntie," she looked over at her, "Did you do this route correctly?" She showed her the list, "Rocky's having multiple deliveries in one day. I thought most clients put them all at once for convenience?"

She should've known the answer by the sly grin. "Rocky is a busy man," she said, "He owns a club and different businesses in the downtown area. He can't be running around doing little things like this all day."

"But he has a whole gang. Why not let them do it?"

"He needs them at his side," she told her. "Besides, he is a handsome man and a true gentleman. If I were your age again, I'd be going to Club Heaven every night to see him." She then added, "It is the clients who make the appointments. Not me. Perhaps you charmed him in some way and now he's using this as an excuse to see you."

"Ugh, as if. I nearly beat up a guy in his club," she scoffed, putting the sheet on the clipboard. "He probably thinks I'm a psycho or something."

"Nah, I doubt it. Besides, it was Kizzy who placed the appointments, not Rocky, so I'm sure it was her doing."

Sakyia supposed it made sense, but what did she know about business people? She kissed her aunt goodbye, and was heading out the backdoor when she heard footsteps. Looking up, she saw Asuka, Shiba and Oshiage coming down the alleyway. They all wore their Ichigo Milk jackets, and outfits today. Sakyia noticed immediately they were absent their leader, Junko. 

"Morning, guys," Sakyia said first, seeing their big smiles. "What's up?" 

"We wanted to ask you something-" Shiba said first. 

"-But we didn't want to ask in front of Junko-" said Oshiage. 

"Ask me what?"

"The twins and I got invited to this party downtown," Asuka told her. "It's a matchmaking party. We usually go to local ones around the city, but a friend of mine is hosting one at his apartment this time. We hoped you might want to come."

"Matchmaking party?" She asked, confused. "I've never been to one of those before. What do you do there?"

"It's nothing gross," she assured. "We mostly just drink and dance; maybe meet a cute guy too."

"We'd like it if you came with us," both twins said together. 

Sakyia observed the three of them. She hadn't known them very long, and she'd mostly worked since she arrived. A thought then came to her, seeing their friendly smiles.

"My mom put you three up to this, didn't she?"

"No, not at all," Asuka insisted. "We thought you might like a break from work. You're always working and you should take a break."

They're right, and she knows it. She did consider visiting downtown on her own; possibly going to Club Heaven with her VIP card. The idea of seeing Rocky again made her blush, but she hid it from them. 

"Sure," she shrugged, "That sounds fun."

The three women squealed excitedly and hugged her together. Sakyia let out a laugh, squished between them before they released her. 

"Is Junko coming?"she asked them. 

Their smiles faltered, and they casted glances at one another. "No," said Asuka first. "Don't get us wrong. We love Junko; she's our leader but she gets…excitable at parties. Especially if there are cute guys around."

"She becomes a total 'pick me' girl," said Oshiage. "She tries too hard, and it's embarrassing."

"Isn't it kinda messed up to not invite her though? She is your friend, and I know I'd be hurt if my friends did that."

"You don't want Junko coming."

"Because she's a bit boy-crazy?" 

"No, because you can't take her anywhere without her making a fool of herself to get a guy's attention," Asuka told her. "You should see the stuff she's done."

"It'll be worse with you around," Shiba added, hands in pockets. "She'll think she's in competition with you, and be worse. Trust us. We do hang out with Junko-"

"-Just not at parties."

Sakyia did not question them further. Their reasons sounded valid enough, though she had no idea what they meant by 'pick me' girl. They all agreed to meet up at the Itokan Diner, and hurried away. The thought that it might be a joke crossed her mind, but she dismissed it. They've been kind to her since their first meeting; they didn't appear to be the bullying type. Sakyia thought about what she'd even wear to the party. Riding on her scooter, she realized she didn't have many nice clothes. She never needed them before. Her mother will know what looks best on her; she'd do her makeup as well, since she'll no doubt be over the moon about it. Sakyia’s excitement over the invitation tonight fueled her throughout the day; she greeted her clients with smiles and did her best to not appear so delighted even if she was. She has never been invited to anything before. She daydreamed about the party, where she'd dance and drink all night.

Rocky's first package of the day came from his tailor, who'd fashioned him a long white coat with intricate patterns around the shoulders and chest. Sakyia placed it in her cart, then rode downtown towards his club, since that's where the drop off location happened to be.  She didn't understand why he'd schedule his route that way, but that is his business. She reached the club and didn't see a single soul outside it; no doubt people came later on to party here. No bouncer stood outside, so she carefully opened the main doors. 

Very few lights lit up the room, giving just enough for people to maneuver around the floor. She stared around for someone to point her in Rocky's directions, but didn't see anyone. Not even the bartender showed up yet. She stood around, aimlessly searching until footsteps came from around a corner. Kizzy beamed at her when they saw each other. 

"Sakyia, you're back," she said, walking casually up to her. "A drop off?"

"Yeah. From Mr. Nita, his tailor," she replied, holding the box in front of her. "Do I leave it with you or…?"

"I'll take you to him," she said, wringing her arm around Sakyia’s. "He'll want to try it on. Rocky is very picky with his outfits, since he likes to dress well for the ladies who come here." Sakyia felt her eyes shift to her, "He might even ask for your opinion."

"I'm the worst person to ask about fashion," Sakyia snorted. "The most I can say is it looks nice."

"Fashonista or not, he'll like your opinion."

She sensed the words between the lines. Kizzy brought her to the VIP lounge, where Rocky sat with an entourage of people in all white. She looked at Kizzy. 

"Is he always surrounded by women?"

"Not always," she then smirked, "Why? Jealous?"

"No, not at all. Just seems like they don't do much."

"They work here," she told her. "Come on, let's give him his new coat."

She brought Sakyia further into the room, "Rocky, Sakyia’s here with your coat order."

Rocky looked at her directly. He didn't wear his sunglasses today; they must be a night time look only. She preferred him like this; she saw more of his face this way. He seemed confused for a moment, then glanced at Kizzy. She released Sakyia and went to sit with Kaito. 

"Hey," she breathed, nerves bundling in her stomach, "I have your first package here. I don't know where…"

She looked for a place to settle the box down, since it weighed heavy in her arms. But, it was Rocky who relieved her of the box. 

"Thank you, Sakyia," she bit the inside of her cheek nervously. Her name sounded nicer in his deep, gruff voice. "I appreciate it."

"It's no trouble," she told him. She grabbed her clipboard from the top, and watched him hand the box to one of his gang. "It's my job." She then remembered, "Oh, and Mr. Nita said if the coat isn't to your liking, he'll gladly alter it when you come back to the shop."

"Nita is great at what he does," Rocky opened the box from beside him. On several red tissues sat the coat wrapped in plastic for protection. He pulled it out and removed the plastic. It was a lovely coat. It certainly fit Rocky's polished appearance. "He makes dresses too," Rocky mentioned, removing the jacket he currently wore. Sakyia avoided checking him out, trying not to focus on his tanned arms with their lean muscles. Broad and tall, he could encompass her completely. "You know, should you happen to need one."

"I can’t afford anything specially made," she shook her head. Her cheeks burned again thinking about the muscular figure underneath. "It's a clearance rack for me." She gulped and said, "I'll see you soon. I have other packages to get-"

"-Wait," he said. He straightened the long trench coat and asked, "What do you think?"

"It looks good," she nodded, using this moment to look him up and down. "It suits you."

"Suits me?"

"Yeah, you seem to wear lots of, like, cool, sleek clothes and it, you know, looks nice."

"So, you like cool guys, then?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

"No," he said, "I was only curious. How is your hand?"

"It's much better. I didn't hit him too hard, so it was fine the next day." She couldn't help staring at him. God, he's handsome. "I should get going. I'll see you all later."

"Later?" He looked over at Kizzy, who pretended to be admiring her nail polish. He sighed, "You don't have to pick up all those packages. A certain someone should've made the appointments all together, right Kizzy?"

"Hm? Oh, well, I knew they wouldn't be available all at once,” Kizzy replied coolly. “Plus, we obviously tip her more for the trouble."

"It's no trouble," she told him. "Most of my route is in this area, so it won't be difficult for me." Also gave her an excuse to come back. 

"If you're alright with it…" then she swore he'd read her mind. In a low voice, he said to her, "At least, we'd have a reason to see each other again."

She smiled, "It is a perk." She then realized she should've kept that to herself. "I mean, um-"

His chuckle cut her off. "Cute," he said. "I can see why people underestimate you in a fight."

"She's like a feisty kitten," Kaito actually said. 

"It's adorable."

He thought she was cute! "I should really get going. See you around."

"Your getaway phrase," he said with a small grin. "It only makes you look sweeter."

"Um, thanks. Yeah…" 

What do you say to a handsome guy telling you he thinks you're cute? She took her clipboard, gave him one more glance before leaving the lounge. In front of other people, she realized as well. Those other girls sat there around him too. They must've heard him in the quiet room. Lord knows what they thought of it. Sakyia spent half her route thinking of his words and the gentle way he'd said them. He didn't have that creepy, flirtatious tone most men said. She'd felt his voice prickle on her skin, giving her goosebumps.

The second pick up came from a jeweler. She'd seen them place a silver wolf pommel into a fine, velvet lined box for her. She recalled Rocky's cane, and guessed he ordered a new one. She dropped off a few more packages before arriving at the club once more. Rocky sat by the bar with a drink beside him, and puffing a cigar. By the golden band around the middle, she knew it was an Iwata cigar. She smelled the scent of them as she approached, not bothered by the smell but rather his pensive stare elsewhere. Sakyia felt guilty interrupting him. 

"Rocky?" She said his name in a quiet voice, as if afraid to disturb his silence. 

Her voice broke through his thoughts, somewhat startled by her sudden appearance. "Sakyia," he said, "You're back already."

"With your new cane topper thing," she said, holding the box in her hands. She brought it over to the bar where he took up the cane beside him. “The jeweler said it’s made exactly as you asked.”

She watched him twist off the current pommel and set it aside. A bejeweled wolf’s head sat on the bar next to the box. Made entirely of rhinestones, the eyes shone bright red rubies. It must cost more than her aunt’s store, her scooter, and the apartment combined. She examined it from afar until he opened the second box, which held another topper. A running silver wolf topped the new cane, smoother and longer than the head pommel. 

"What do you think?" His deep voice broke her from her thoughts. 

"What do I think? Oh, um, it looks nice. The shape of it makes it a lot more useful in a fight than the smaller one," she said, "And I guess it'll be easier on your hand since it's silver and not covered in stones. You could always have worn gloves, but it's not winter yet and I read somewhere you can't wear stuff that's out of season or something like that? I don't know much about fashion, so don't quote me on that-"

His laugh cut her off, surveying her again. She realized she liked him without the sunglasses; she could see more of his face that way. "No, I don't imagine you are," he said. When he saw her brow furrowed, he explained himself, "I didn't mean anything by it. Not everyone is concerned with fashion like I am. My gang complains about it all the time."

"Dry cleaning is expensive," she replied. "I don't hate fashion. I wish I knew more about it; my mother runs a beauty salon, yet I know so little," she laughed sheepishly. "I should get going. I'll see you-"

"-Kizzy and Koto will get them," he insisted. 

"I told you I really don't mind."

"I do."

"Why?" She then smirked, "Tired of seeing me already?"

"The opposite," he replied. "I prefer seeing you on my own terms, not Kizzy's." He stood from the bar and walked over to her. The sweet cologne faintly wafted over to her, and she did her best to not deeply inhale it. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm going to this party with some friends," she said. "It's something called a matchmaking party? I don't know, but it sounds fun and I don't really go out that much." Not at all, truthfully, but that sounded pathetic. 

"A matchmaking party?" He sounded amused. 

"It sounds stupid, I know. I'd never heard of them until this morning, but apparently, it's something people do," she replied, hands in her pockets. "They go to them to meet guys and drink and dance, but I don't really care about that right now."

"Because you're not like other girls?" He suggested, hand on his cane and smirking at her playfully. 

"No," she grinned, "Because I’m still settling into my place. Dating isn’t really at the top of my list.” 

“Hm, understandable. There’s nothing wrong with going to enjoy yourself,” he said. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. Right at the same moment, Kono, a White Rascal, appeared from around a corner. He stood there expectantly, most likely with news for Rocky. “Work calls,” Rocky looked back over at her. “If you change your mind, I’d be glad if you came.”

She bashfully said her goodbye and they parted ways. Sakyia only recalled one other time a boy suggested they meet somewhere: Jesse. Riding on her bike to her next location, her mind wandered back to the time he asked if she wanted to meet him outside the warehouses. She’d agreed because he was the only real friend she had. They’d walked around Little Asia together, a neighborhood known for its roughness and near lawlessness, and they traveled down the boardwalk a short distance from the bay. 

It’d been on that pier where he kissed her. 

Sakyia didn’t see her mother for lunch. She went to the nearby thrift shop in town to find an outfit for the night. However, when she looked around the racks of clothes, she had no idea where to start. Her mother once mentioned ‘dressing for the occasion’, meaning dressing according to the style of the party. She assumed she’d need to dress up a bit more than she would, but not so much she’s overdressed. It reminded her of Rocky, who’d no doubt know exactly what she should pick. A part of her wished she’d continued her route for him; it gave her an excuse to keep going back to him. Sakyia didn’t expect anything to come from them, but Rocky’s presence brought on feelings so surreal to her. He made her nervous, most people did, yet not tense. She didn’t need to have her guard up around him. But, those walls existed for a reason. 

She stood in front of a long mirror, holding a crimson camisole top in front of her. She’d gotten a similar top in dark green; both were made of satin with draping necklines. After looking at photos online, it seemed like the sort of thing a girl going to a party might wear. As she continued her inner conflict, a familiar voice spoke up behind her. 

“I’d personally choose the red one. It’s one of Rocky’s favorite colors.” 

Kizzy came from behind one of the clothing racks, Kaito following her. Sakyia smiled at her, “Then the answer is obvious, isn’t it?” She put back the red top, “I have to wear the green one now.” The two of them laughed, and she said, “What’re you two doing here? Did Rocky ask you to stalk me?”

“Do you want the real answer or a lie?”

“The real answer.”

“Rocky asked us to tail you,” Kaito answered before Kizzy. 

“Why?” she asked, a bit surprised. “I’m nobody important.”

“Things are getting rough on this side of town,” Kizzy said, walking over to her. “He wants to make sure you’re safe while riding around here.” 

“Why me specifically? He can’t be having every single woman in the city followed,” she said, arms crossed. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” she huffed a laugh, “He likes you.”

The words froze her in place, and Kizzy chuckled. “Ah, you really are oblivious,” she said, picking up a pair of black pants from a rack. She sized them up to Sakyia, nodding her approval, “Rocky is a romantic. When he sees a woman he likes, he wants to shower her with gifts, affection and admiration. He likes to sweep them off their feet and make them feel special.” 

“I barely know him.”

“And he’ll do his best to fix that,” Kaito said, nodding when Kizzy showed him the pants. “That's why he keeps trying to get you to stay at the club.”

“If he wanted me to keep coming back, why did he cancel the deliveries?”

“You already work so much,” she answered. “You’ll need a jacket. It’ll be cold tonight,” she gazed around the racks, “He told me he wanted to see you under more casual, personal circumstances instead of work. Well, he said this to me after he scolded me for doing it in the first place. Like, psh, sorry for wanting my good friend to be happy.”

“How about this one?” Kaito lifted a black cropped jacket. 

“Good choice,” she grinned, taking the jacket to hang over Sakyia. She returned to Sakyia, “Rocky…Rocky tends to pick women who aren’t as intimidating as you.”

“I’m intimidating to him?”

“Not to him specifically, I think,” she said, “But he thinks he can’t woo you the way he does other women. You confuse him. He’s never met a woman who sticks up for herself and for others with her fists before.”

“He must not meet many, then.”

“None like you.” Sakyia spotted a twinkle in her eye for a moment, “I told him he could absolutely woo you, however.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you blushed from your ears to your cheeks whenever he paid you a compliment,” she said, “Or that you actually agreed to that crazy courier schedule I created. Wanted reasons to see him, hm?"

She turned away from Kizzy, pretending to be concentrated on the pants in her hand. “It would’ve made good money for the day,” she made an excuse. 

“Okay, sure,” Kizzy said, unconvinced, taking her to the register. Sakyia moved to get her wallet, but Kizzy stopped her. 

“Are you gonna come to the club tonight?” she asked casually. “It’s going to be tons of fun, especially since you have that little VIP card.” 

“I already have plans,” she replied. 

“Hm, what a shame,” she frowned, handing Sakyia a paper bag of clothes. “I know I would’ve liked it if you came. I love the other girls with all my heart; I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but it never hurts to have a breath of fresh air there.” 

"Maybe another time,” Sakyia said. “I’d go, but I don’t know if my friends would want to. They’re quite set on the party.” 

Hearing the words ‘I’d go’ brought a small grin to Kizzy’s face. Sakyia realized then she shouldn’t have said it. She thanked Kizzy for the clothes, and bustled off as her phone vibrated in her pocket again. As she rode away, she felt Kizzy and Kaito watch her until she turned a corner. Something deep inside told her that her ‘matchmaking party’ might be canceled tonight. She hoped not, but she couldn’t stop herself from imagining them at Club Heaven instead. Sakyia envisioned Rocky, wearing white, designer clothes, sitting in his VIP lounge. He’d look up at her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered, and offer to get her a drink. It sounded so nice. Unfortunately for her, Kizzy was right. It’d be nice to have a handsome man give her attention. She’d by no means throw away her dignity to do it, but if Rocky showed any interest at all, she wouldn’t be upset.

Sakyia finished her route earlier than usual, considering Rocky canceled his appointments. She arrived home, and immediately the excitement hit her again. As expected, when she told her mother about the party, she insisted upon helping out. She approved of the outfit, which eased Sakyia’s worries about how it looked, and fixed her hair and makeup for her. Sakyia only wore makeup when she’d been eight-years-old and playing with her mother’s makeup kits. She didn’t realize how much work went into looking presentable for a party. By the time she finished, she looked like herself, but different somehow. She felt different. 

"Ah, you look so beautiful," her mother beamed, pushing a wavy lock from her face. "The boys there will be drooling over you."

"Psh, please," she rolled her eyes, fixing the jacket on her shoulders. "As if that matters."

"It doesn't hurt to have some male attention once in a while, you know. Nothing has to come from it."

She thought about Rocky and those daydreams again. She liked thinking she may run into him somehow, and how he’d put all his focus on her throughout the night. She knew it’s stupid to imagine such things with a person she hardly knows, but it made her feel good. She wanted to feel good. She kissed her mother goodbye, told her not to wait up for her, and headed to the diner on foot. The girls wanted to meet there so then they could all go together, which is something she guessed they did often. She didn’t really think about where she was going and who she’d be seeing there until it was too late. 

Walking into the diner, the sounds of chatter and laughter reached her ears. She spotted Naomi at the bar with Asuka, and the twins sitting at the table with Junko. Perhaps they decided to invite her after all. Yamato, Dan, Tettsu and Chiharu sat around, drinking and talking amongst themselves. It dawned on her that Sannoh Hoodlum Squad hung out here regularly as their homebase. Clutching her bag, she noticed another person sitting at his usual booth, absorbed in a magazine on the table. Cobra’s presence briefly erased Rocky from her mind; the butterflies returned and moved about in her stomach, weakening her resolve and bringing on anxiousness. She hated that he had this effect on her. Cobra saw her walk in first, head lifting from his magazine to see her. She gave a small smile and bowed her head. He did the same, but did not look away. He gave her a once over, a sudden softness in his eyes instead of his usual brooding stare. She blushed and looked away. That was when everyone else noticed her. 

“Wow, you look awesome!” the twins said together, beaming and looking her up and down. 

“Thanks,” she smiled brightly, blushing softly. 

“Guys are definitely going to come to us with you around,” said Junko, smiling excitedly. 

“That’s not why we invited her, Junko,” Asuka said, nudging her. She rolled her eyes, and turned to Sakyia, “You do clean up well, Sakyia.”

She laughed. “Thanks. So do you guys.” 

None of the men spoke. They simply took her in until Naomi snapped at them. 

“Hey, put your eyes back in your heads, idiots,” she barked at them, and the men looked over at her. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I wasn’t looking.”

“Psh, whatever.” 

 Cobra, as usual, said nothing and turned his head away when Naomi caught them. He appeared far more interested in a page of his magazine. She tried not thinking about it. 

“So, should we head out? Where is this party anyways?” Sakyia asked, digging through her bag to make sure she had everything she needed. 

Her mother stuck a whole bunch of other things she claimed she’d need: breath mints, face wipes, lip balm, a powder compact, and a small bottle of perfume. Sakyia usually carried her keys, wallet, and a snack for her ride around town. It made it harder to search around.

“It’s at my friend’s apartment,” said Asuka. “He lives downtown, so we better get going if we want to show up on time.”

Sakyia found her wallet, and realized she couldn’t find her credit card amongst it. A streak of panic went through her. She started taking out useless cards to find it, putting them on the table, when she realized it was in the bill fold. 

“Oh my god!” Shiba’s exclamation made Sakyia lift her head up. She saw her holding the white card with its silver wolf printed on the front. “How did you get this? This is a Club Heaven VIP card.”

“You have a VIP card?” Junko came over to the table to see it. 

“Wow, so we’re just taking things now?” Sakyia asked, more amused than affronted. “It’s a card Rocky gave to me when I delivered a package. I’m not really sure what it’s for, but I didn’t want to be rude.” Also, she’d been too distracted by him to ask about it. 

“This card gets you into the door without lining up,” said Junko. “You get discounted drinks, special seating, and everything. I think you’re allowed to bring guests with you too, so we can all go.”

“You’re going to go White Rascals’ club?” asked Dan reproachfully. “Psh, I thought you all had a sense of loyalty to Sannoh.”

“Maybe if Sannoh had proper clubs, we’d stay here,” spat Asuka. She walked over to the table, and checked out the plastic card. 

"And just because we live in Sannoh doesn't mean we can't go to other places," said Shiba.

“Maybe we can go another time?” Sakyia suggested it when Asuka gave it back. “We have a party to get to, no?”

“Um, no?” Asuka scoffed. “No way am I going to some lame party now when you have a Club Heaven card.” 

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” agreed the twins. 

"Club Heaven is way better than that dumb party," said Junko. 

“You guys want to go there instead? What about your friend?”

“He’ll survive,” Asuka brushed it off, grabbing her bag. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Rocky gave you that?” Cobra’s deep voice immediately caught her attention. 

“He did.”

“Why? He doesn’t hand those out for free.”

“I suppose it’s meant to be a tip?” she shrugged, putting it into her wallet. “A tip that keeps on giving.”

“You should be careful,” he said. “Downtown can be dangerous at night.”

She chuckled, “As stated to me multiple times.” She took up her bag again and looked at the other girls, “Well? Club Heaven, then?”

“Hell yes!”

The girls all squealed, and led Sakyia out the door. Perhaps she’d see Rocky after all.

***

A/N: Looks like Sakyia is turning some heads! I really hope you liked this chapter, and it'd mean a lot if you guys liked or reblogged (comments are always greatly appreciated). Thanks so much for reading <3

[hellcheer-heaven]

Budding - 90s Pregnant Hellcheer

Beard Eddie photo by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Click here for the post Thanks for giving me the okay for using your photo edit.

Thank you @a-strange-inkling for proofreading the beginning stages of this short fic. Also please check out both creators listed here.

Waking up early in the morning came naturally to Eddie, it was pretty much a part of himself like the curly locks on his head; and currently the dark hairs sprouting from his face. He looked over at the sleeping woman, hair draped along her shoulders and face so at peace. Chrissy has been getting some much needed rest lately for the sake of her health and for the developing little one in her womb. There was a lovely sort of glow that surrounded her no matter where she went. Even on the days when she felt and proclaimed that she looked like a terrible mess, Eddie reassured her that nothing would dull her sparkle.

It was another quiet, lazy Saturday in their neighborhood. Most of their neighbors were still asleep, say for a few early birds that wanted to get their steps in before breakfast. Eddie occupied himself with whisking raw eggs and adding just a bit of milk to give it that fluffy texture that Chrissy liked. He practically tore open the entire package of bacon, nearly loosing a few stragglers, but thankfully his lightening fast reflexes caught the flying pork. The coffee maker bubbled as he placed the large glass container beneath the dispenser. Before he could turn on the stove, Chrissy’s sudden gasp caused him to rush to the room.

“PleasebeokayPleasebeokayPleasebeokay!” His mind begged. Eddie nearly lost his balance as he ran down the carpeted hallway before catching himself, firmly planting his feet onto the ground. “Chrissy? Baby? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the emergency room?!”

Chrissy’s back faced him, her blue eyes gazing into the mirror with quite the wide eyed stare. “Eddie… I…”

Eddie was afraid something absolutely terrible must have happened, but he had to take a deep breath. “Y-Yes? What is it?”

She slowly turned around, something was quite different with her. Aside from her bump, there was also the newly developed pair of breasts protruding out from Eddie’s nice dress shirt.

She kept herself covered, feeling incredibly embarrassed at how much skin was showing, “Eddie my boobs got bigger!”

He gulped, his mind heavily chastising him for the thoughts that were appearing. He had to think of something, anything to say to his beloved wife.

His face felt so hot and red, “Y-Yeah… yeah they did.”

It’s not like they haven’t seen each other semi to fully nude before. In her current state, this was vastly different than what she or he were used to. They both stared, flabbergasted at the single or possible double cup size increase.

Eddie hurried to readjust his vision, “How do you feel Chrissy?”

Her fingers gently felt along her budding skin, “I feel weird.”

“Do you have to go to the hospital?”

She gave him a reassuring smile, it gave him some relief of his anxiety. “No I’m fine. I just… never really thought they would grow that much.” She faced her reflection, shrugging off the shirt to get a closer look. “It’s just, I look so different.”

Eddie placed a loving hand to her shoulder, she held onto it sweetly. He pecked the top of her head, “Good different or bad different?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. I just… never really imagined that I would actually get big breasts.” Chrissy winced slightly when she held up the tender bundles.

They felt and appeared so oddly shaped to her. Then again having her abdomen sticking out from her small frame was still so unusual to see. Chrissy was always so used to having the body that she had always had: Petite with muscle and a bit of body fat. Nothing out of the ordinary for some people, but the things that her mother said did a number on her self esteem, self image, and self worth. Always making her believe that she was ugly and unattractive in her childhood and especially during adolescence.

Fat pig, string bean, baby face, rabbit teeth, body of a child, too quiet, not lady like, and so much more.

Even when her body began to naturally change during puberty and now during pregnancy, her mother still made it her mission to make her life hell. It’s no wonder Chrissy and her darling husband found a house of their own some towns away from Hawkins.

Eddie moved a lock of her hair behind her ear, “Do they hurt?”

“A little bit.”

He nuzzled into her neck, his voice filled with concern, “Only a little?”

She carefully placed them back down, really considering how she truly felt, “Well, more than a little. They feel sensitive and sore. It’s like I’m going through puberty again, but now I have these and my stomach is…”

Eddie cradled her pretty belly, his warm palms tracing her lovely stretch marks. “You look beautiful Chrissy.”

The lump in her throat started to grow even more, “But I feel like a fat cow.” She shut her eyes tightly, “And I look like one too!”

Eddie just wanted to hug her as tightly as he could, but all he could do was gently wrap his arms around her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You’re beautiful Chrissy, no matter what your brain tries to tell you. You’re the most courageous, amazing, and beautiful woman in the whole world.”

She swiped her teary eyes with the backs of her hands, “I wish I could believe that Eddie!”

Eddie turned her around and pecked her face, sweetly and generously giving her as many pecks he could give her until the tiniest smile pulled at her cotton candy colored lips. She softly cooed his name, her tears forming from self loathing to affectionate. She couldn’t prevent her giggles from tumbling out, the scruff tickling her neck as he bent down. Chrissy nibbled her lower lip, watching the way his bubblegum pink mouth planted more and more upon her body. Slowly and earnestly along her breasts, looking up to gauge her reaction: Chrissy was all smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.

She ran her fingers through his curls, “Eddie, that feels really nice. It kinda tickles a little.”

He closed his eyes, his hands caressing the sides of her body as his lips followed the shape of her torso. Wanting to follow every stretch mark with his fingers and tongue, but she was vulnerable and that wouldn’t be fair to her. Instead he placed the side of his face along her bump, breathing lightly as the warm flesh heated his cheek. Eddie looked up and still could see the sunshine smile of his Spring Goddess, her flower bed and fruits growing healthily.

Chrissy cradled his sweet, hairy face, rubbing the apples of his cheeks with her thumbs. His lips proceeded to return back up until their mouths collided, that’s when he heard it again: Laughter. Her laughter was the most wonderful melody that he could ever hear. No amount of string bending, shredding, or tapping would ever compare. They walked over to the bed, and he helped her onto her back, making sure that her pillows were aligned the way they were supposed to be for both support and comfort.

Chrissy curled her pointer finger, wanting a little more love; boy did he deliver. Kisses, kisses, and more kisses. She then began to whimper, the sensitive sensation returning to her breasts once more. Eddie was careful to not put any kind of weight on her, laying next to her and kissing her hand.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

She thought for a moment, tapping her fingers upon the mattress to find her answer. What did the moms back in Hawkins suggest during this time? A gentle massage with massage oil was the way to go according to them. He smiled, soon returning with a jar of oil that Mrs. Sinclair, Wheeler, Byers, and Henderson swore by. Thank god for their wisdom and experience, because the last person Chrissy would ever turn to regarding motherhood was her own mom.

They sat there for a moment, the two of them looking back and forth at the jar and her chest.

He gulped nervously, “So… um…”

“I guess you can start,” Chrissy mentioned, still a bit weirded out as well; honestly that makes two of them.

He swallowed, “Y-Yeah. Yup, I’m gonna massage your ti- breasts.” He sighed slowly through his nostrils, “Holy shit her tits are huge. So fucking soft and squishy. Our baby is so lucky.”

She nodded, gulping down as well, “Yeah, you’re gonna touch them.” She proceeded to open the dress shirt, blushing a bit at the sight. “God I feel like a cow! Jesus my tits look like someone sewed cantaloupes in me. Please don’t turn into watermelons! Please!”

Eddie broke the silence, it was probably the stupidest thing he’s said in a while, but he really needed to know. “So I’m not going to squeeze all of your milk out, right?”

Chrissy held his hand, showing him a wonderful grin and a warm chuckle, “No Eddie, my milk isn’t going to come out.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

She held his worried face, “You won’t hurt me, you never have.”

Eddie grinned, moving his face to kiss her palm before warming up the oil in his hands. He could feel the more immature part of his brain telling him to do things to her chest. The rest of his mind continued to scold him before locking up that area. With all distractions put aside, he could then focus on her needs. His tattooed hands and fingers slowly touched the heaping bundles of flesh, following the shape in precise circles. Starting with both and then transitioning to each one individually with his talented hands. Chrissy observed how those inked appendages motioned along her breasts, gazing through her lashes and following the way he very gently sculpted her.

She giggled, “Eddie, I really like that. Ooh, you’re so gentle. I love how sweet you are.”

He gave her a playful wink, “Sweet as honey baby girl.” He stopped momentarily when she softly gasped, his worrying thoughts returning in a flash, “Are you okay?”

“Mmhm, that just felt really, really good.”

His eyes looked between her face and body, “Are you gonna… you know?”

Her brows rose up, nodding slowly and waiting patiently for him to continue. She knew the word, but still wanted to hear it from him, “Am I going to what?”

His fingers started to slowly release her, his bashful smile evidently displayed, “Squirt milk?”

Close enough.

He couldn’t help but hide his face when she started to laugh, very loudly actually. When her giggle fit was over, Chrissy moved his hands aside and pecked the thorn surrounded rose tattoo on the back of one hand.

She placed a curly lock behind his ear, “I’m sorry Eddie, that was just really funny. It’s lactate, baby. That’s the word you’re looking for.” Chrissy held up her bosoms, giving them a gentle squeeze, “And no the doctor said it’ll be a while before that happens. Actually they could end up getting larger.”

“Really?” He sounded a little hopeful, something that Chrissy slyly smirked at to which Eddie changed his tone. “I mean… um… that sucks.”

“Pun intended Eddie?”

He gave her a cute pout before smirking himself, “Geez Chrissy, you’re really putting me between a rock and a hard place.”

Chrissy snickered, “Well I’m sure resting your head on something soft might ease the tension.”

Was she being serious or just joking? Either way he was pleased knowing that she was happy, comfortable, and safe. They hardly said anything for the remainder of the morning as he commenced with massaging her. Nothing much had to be said, their smiles were enough. The gentle touches were enough. Their kisses were enough.

They were enough.

[mehoymalloy]

Alert: The Judicator AU now has plot-relevant KINK !

Gone are the days of an entire spin-off series for smut, folks, because through lots and lots of brainstorming, worldbuilding, and just generally going feral over the blorbos that are imotohan, @inomakani and I are creating a story that's 60% plot, 40% porn, and a whole lot of arcane fuckery (innuendo absolutely intended) with a sprinkling of good ole fashioned tension (of both the scary and the sexy kind).

But for now, have a cute and silly little backstory snippet we came up with when fleshing out how Imogen becomes the total kinkster she is in this AU.

Growing up with full access to the Aydinlan Seminary’s extensive library, Imogen had stumbled upon the book Mistress’ Magical Manual of Kink as an older teenager while curiously browsing the ‘personal health and hygiene’ section (the standard wizard sex ed class didn’t quite answer all of her questions). Hardbound in a royal purple fabric, with cursive lettering gilded with gold, the title on the spine had quickly caught Imogen’s eye. She had cautiously glanced around to ensure she was alone before she then pulled the book from the shelf, immediately intrigued by the illustration depicted on the front cover. A slightly plump woman, beautifully rendered in an abstract, stylized manner, was bound and suspended in elaborate ropework that wove through the words of the title above before finally curling to shape the first and last ‘S’ of the word ‘Mistress.’ Other items of interest were also subtly integrated throughout the rest of the title: a collar, a leash, a flogger, among others Imogen couldn’t quite identify yet. She had been pleasantly surprised to see a body much like her own. All soft curves, gentle swells, and rolling folds, slightly straining against the delicate embrace of the surrounding ropes. Imogen had discreetly checked the book out, then renewed it, and then renewed it again—until tiny conjured slips of parchment began appearing in the book, always between the pages she had last left off when reading, politely informing her of the impending due date that would not be extended again. Quietly mortified, Imogen resolved to purchase her own copy. Shrouded in a heavy cloak, she absconded to Yios’ one and only ‘adult entertainment’ shop, creatively called Amoryios. However, to her horror, the merchant had gently informed her that this particular book was only available by special order. With one moment of courage, a handful of gold, and hardly a day passing, Imogen then found a discreet package in her campus postbox. The title page of her own personal copy had even been signed by ‘the Mistress’ herself: ‘Dear Imogen, I am honored to offer my guidance on your journey into this wide, wondrous world of sensual possibilities. Much love, Mistress.’ The grandiloquence of the short note had admittedly pulled a genuine snort of laughter from Imogen; but despite the lofty turn of phrase, she somehow felt they were sincere nevertheless. Amusingly, the ‘i’ in the moniker resembled a flogger, much like it did on the cover title as well, with tendrils curling up to dot the letter with a tiny heart—perhaps even the author of a veritable encyclopedia of kink knowledge had their favorites? In keeping with the discreet packaging, the large book even conveniently came already enchanted: a helpful illusion spell that could be activated to alter the outer cover from its eye-catching rich purple and glittering gold to instead appear bland and brown, entitled Marie’s Manual of Household Management. While this enchantment worked wonders to help the book to blend into any bookcase, it crucially did not alter the book’s contents. Imogen would never forget the moment her mother, having popped in for a quick chat, abruptly plucked the book from its perch face-down at the end of the shelf. She had skimmed the blurb on the back, flipped it over to read the title, and then raised an eyebrow as she slowly dragged her pointed gaze around Imogen’s messy dormitory. Then, finally, she replaced the book on the shelf without bothering to open it. In the years following, Imogen was far more careful with where she left her beloved copy of Mistress’ Magical Manual of Kink.

[neotiahospital]

Prioritize Your Well-being: The Importance of Preventive Health Checkups

In our fast-paced lives, taking a proactive approach to health is essential. Preventive health checkups serve as a cornerstone of this approach, enabling early detection of potential health issues before they escalate. Understanding the significance of regular checkups can empower you to maintain a healthier lifestyle.

1. What is a Preventive Health Checkup?

A preventive health checkup involves a series of medical assessments and tests aimed at evaluating your overall health and identifying any potential risks. Unlike regular consultations for specific ailments, these checkups focus on preventing diseases through early detection and lifestyle modifications.

2. Early Detection Saves Lives

One of the primary benefits of preventive health checkups is the early detection of conditions like diabetes, hypertension, and various cancers. Many chronic diseases exhibit no symptoms in their early stages, making regular screenings vital. Identifying these conditions early can lead to more effective treatment, better outcomes, and potentially life-saving interventions.

3. Personalized Health Insights

Preventive checkups often include a thorough review of personal and family medical histories, which helps healthcare providers offer tailored advice. By understanding your unique risk factors, your doctor can recommend specific screenings, lifestyle changes, and vaccinations that suit your needs, ensuring a more personalized approach to your health.

4. Encouraging Healthy Lifestyle Choices

During a preventive health checkup, healthcare professionals typically discuss lifestyle habits such as diet, exercise, and stress management. This guidance can motivate you to adopt healthier choices, ultimately reducing the risk of chronic diseases and improving your overall quality of life.

5. Mental Health Matters

Preventive health checkups are not just about physical well-being; they also address mental health. Regular screenings can help identify signs of anxiety, depression, or other mental health conditions. By addressing these issues early on, you can receive the support and treatment needed for better emotional health.

6. Building a Long-Term Health Strategy

Establishing a routine of preventive health checkups fosters a long-term strategy for maintaining good health. By staying vigilant and regularly consulting with your healthcare provider, you can create a comprehensive health plan that evolves with your needs over time.

Preventive health checkups are a vital investment in your well-being. By prioritizing these assessments, you take proactive steps toward a healthier future, enabling early detection, personalized care, and lifestyle improvements. Make preventive health checkups a part of your routine, and empower yourself to lead a healthier, more fulfilling life. Your health is your greatest asset—take care of it!

[thewonderingsorceress]

// I know. I know. I know what you are all thinking. Wow they said they were going to come back and be on. Now it's been months.

I know I know and i know Ive been saying it alot but life has been knocking me down.

As soon as I said that My apartment gave me a weeks notice before they were going to be doing construction in my apartment that would require them to do work on an asbestos filled ceiling and the walls being open for over a month even tho i have cats and they wouldn't give rent reductions because tis "technically still livable because you have running water" So with such short notice i had to drive 4 hours away to a friend bc my works confidentially would be broken if i stayed, where my property manger used it as an opportunity to go into my apartment and take pictures of my apartment that was a mess bc i had alto of sudden health issues and then had to pack to leave for a month. She did this to get back at me for complaining to her about her lack of following the lease we have and offering a tenant who brought danger to me and residents multiple times a renewal of their lease. she then has been trying to use everything to get me out. So i was panicking trying to find a place to move which I couldn't find without me having a negative balance at the end of each month. So Im still trying while not being able to live in my apartment without issues because this woman literally fired every front desk person and got her people to come in and watch for me and other residents who have report her- ive literally had her come out of her office and stare me down when Ive goneto the lobby to pick up packages or leave. So I'm trying to move in January while working extra jobs to save some extra cash only to find out that my car got broken into and they attempted to steal it (I have an hyundai elantra with the immobilizer upgrade so they couldn't) and caused 8k worth of damage about and that's more than my car. So Im waiting for the adjuster to go out and decide if theyll pay it or if theyll give me a 2k check for my car and tell me good luck.

Along with that I was just denied an advancement at my current job that I was promised when I was hired and I am about to cut my last relative off/ go NC bc of the stress theyve been adding to my life and making it that much worse. While trying to study and save to be able to take another Bar Exam in February. So Im sorry IM trying I am. I havent even been super active on discord and that's where I'm normally super active.

[qwanderer]

First Lines

Thanks to @mcfiddlestan for the tag! This sounds like a fun one

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there’s a pattern!

1 Variable (Vegetable)

“I am gonna get you two to eat salad,” Eliot said, “eat salad and like it, if it kills me.”

“No!” Parker stood up and marched over to him, waving a finger in his face. “You are not allowed to die! I’ve been very clear about this.”

2 The Disaster Job

Northeast Philadelphia

Their client’s name was Danielle, and if at least two-thirds of the team wasn’t reminded vividly of Nana when they met her, Hardison would eat his hat. 

3 Like Yellow Eyes

Crowley emptied all the plants out of the Bentley and into the bookshop, and for a moment, the Bentley thought that perhaps, just perhaps, the two idiots who most often occupied its seats had gotten their shit together and were moving in together, properly. 

But then the angel walked out of the bookshop, and. He was holding The Keys. 

4 Like Golden Light

The Bentley had felt it, of course. The way Crowley had hoped, and tried, and ended up brokenhearted. 

5 what to (be) for the woman who (is) everything

Lord Aral Vorkosigan woke up naked, tangled skin-to-skin with his new wife, and experienced the same kind of terrified awe he had when he’d determined that she wasn’t a drunken hallucination. The heavens had opened up and delivered to him everything he needed most in one delightful Cordelia-shaped package, and now he just had to figure out how to keep her. 

6 ...And breathe out.

Eliot pulled his car up to the farmhouse and parked, getting out and looking around at the farm. Still the same old familiar place, even though these days, every time he visited things looked a little different. At least it wasn’t crawling with folks in protective suits anymore, all these months after he and Harry had found the battery dump. 

7 Personification

The multiverse took all he had.

8 In Your Shade

The hard part was choosing a single Thor, in all the infinite throng, to visit. 

9 Sanity Check

The TVA had the ability to trace Victor Timely’s variants through his temporal signature, but they couldn’t see everything all the time, so it was one of Loki’s priorities to keep an eye out for other potential threats to the continued health of the multiverse.

And Loki was, at this moment, watching a Tony Stark build a device that could rip the multiverse asunder.

10 King of Infinite Space

Loki came to find Tony when he didn’t show up for dinner. He was in the Repairs and Advancement workshop, of course, bent over a sheaf of papers, leaned in close to a screen. Squinting like he did when his eyes were ready to give out.

Okay, honestly what I'm noticing most here is the variety! That's four different fandoms. And they're like, domestic fluff, episodic jobfic, poetic metaphors, angst, pillow talk, coming out story, dramatic fate-of-the-universe fix-it, siblings reunited, polyamory negotiations (a big theme of mine in the long term), and smut.

As per usual, I don't have the spoons to tag, but anyone reading this can consider themselves tagged! I'd love to see your stuff.

[zhongrin]

The door opens up and a Fatui Agent comes into the shop, a flat, white package in their hands. A Hydro Visions hangs from their hips, sometimes visible when the coat flapped open. The waiter was busy serving a table and a certain Harbinger was not in sight.

Looking around the shop, they finally spot the Owner sitting by the counter. They stop for a moment, seemingly bewildered, before they resume their stride and bow before the woman.

"Miss Rin? My name is Varley. Lady Secretary sends her regards, but is unable to come today. The Lady noticed that your health was...damaged and instructed me to deliever a few remedies, including vitamines from the Pharmacy and a In-House Tea-Supplement to boost your elemental energy."

*Varley lays the package in your hands, their hands carefully not making contact with your skin.*

They bow again and stride out of the shop, hastening their steps. A few seconds later, a crash and loud cursing was heard. A figure speed away, just a shadow, but blood flowed freely from an injured arm, splattering the street outside.

"I guess we were right?"

"...Yes, Lady Secretary."

"Sighh...Go get treated at Med Bay and join your twin at their research."

Were he not the Geo Archon, the Geo Energy would have been completely eroded in her body it seems.

[ Inside the package, hidden near the Tea-Supplement, was a tiny folded paper with a Snowflake attached to it. It felt cold to the touch, like ice cream. It can fit inside your hand perfectly.]

[Break in case of Emergency. It should help you to get away. Hunting down the Geo Archon.

The northern Bank is always open for you.

Belial]

"huh? oh! thank you?"

meirin blinked as she stared for a few moment at the package. even as the strange person walked away, so many questions popped inside her mind. carefully, she opened the package and checked all the items closely. they all seemed expensive and carefully selected.

her fingers brushed against the small paper and unfolded it, frowning when the strangely cold snowflake dropped onto her palm.

for a moment, she looked utterly bewildered as her eyes skimmed over the content.

'belial'.

......

whー oh!

"hmmm..."

i should remember to treat her to a cup of tea the next time she comes by.... but why would she say all these things?

i don't even have a connection with any archons?

.....

she decided to pocket the strange snowflake for now.

[nishmahealthassist]

Best Health Check-Up Packages in Paras Hospital Gurgaon: What’s Inside and Their Importance

With the high-speed life we live in today, we need not only to always work and perform daily tasks, but also take preventive health measures with the aim of staying fit and finding health-related problems at their very early stages. To this end, Paras Hospital which is located in Gurgaon has a number of health check-up packages aimed at offering an extensive insight into one’s health. This section will introduce the health check-up packages which are offered by the hospital members, what are contained in these packages and their significance to different individuals and even families in general.

1. Why Must One’s Health Be Monitored Through Health Check-Ups Routinely?

Accessible healthcare services are provided to mothers and children not only in the means of treatment but also in the means of regular screening. In the health insurance coverage check up all the programs like mother and baby care, child care and other relevant activities are treated as woman and children programs because of the extensive component of these services. In the hotel check up accuracy in measuring the body parameters like weight, height, waist and hip circumference as well as health screening tests and other examinations is rather important. For children, the package includes those services within the upper limit lying on the minimum range provided in their profile. The offers of Paras Hospital appeal to the comprehensive needs of men and women each in his appropriate life stage habits, risks, and age. Therefore, individuals do not have to travel far to seek for preventive care services.

2. Health Check-Up Packages Available At Paras Hospital In Summary

When it comes to health check-up packages, Paras Hospital in Gurgaon has an array of offerings that fit different health issues or problems. The following are some of the basic packages on offer:

Basic Health Check-Up Package: It is suitable for those who just wish to assess their health without serious underlying problems. Typically, this incorporates blood pressure readings, cholesterol levels, liver and kidney function tests, and cough complete blood picture among other tests.

Executive Health Check-Up Package: This package adopts a more comprehensive range of screenings for working individuals who are at risk of being unhealthy due to their way of living. Apart from the investigations in the Basic Package, it may include ECG, fasting blood sugar, thyroid profile, and physician’s consultation.

Comprehensive Health Check-Up Package: For a deeper dive into one’s health, this package covers a wide range of tests, including advanced screenings like abdominal ultrasounds, cardiac stress tests, and vitamin deficiency screenings. This package is suitable for individuals with a family history of certain diseases or those who want an in-depth health assessment.

Women’s Health Check-Up Package: Designed specifically for women’s health needs, this package includes mammograms, PAP smears, bone density tests, and screenings related to reproductive health, alongside other general tests.

Senior Citizen Health Check-Up Package: Tailored for the elderly, this package focuses on tests for age-related concerns, such as bone density, cardiac evaluation, diabetes markers, and vision and hearing assessments.

3. What’s Included in the Health Check-Up Packages?

Each package includes a mix of routine tests, specialist consultations, and advanced diagnostics to provide a complete health overview. Here’s a breakdown of the types of tests you might find across the packages:

Blood Tests: These often include blood sugar levels, cholesterol levels, liver and kidney function, hemoglobin levels, and vitamin levels to assess your overall health.

Imaging Tests: X-rays, ultrasounds, and, in some packages, CT scans or MRIs are included to give a detailed view of internal organs and help identify any structural abnormalities.

Heart Health Tests: Tests like ECG, 2D Echo, and treadmill tests (TMT) are available to evaluate cardiac function and detect any potential risks of heart disease.

Cancer Screenings: For women, mammograms and PAP smears are included, while both men and women might receive screenings based on age and family history, ensuring early detection of common cancers.

Consultations with Specialists: Most packages include a consultation with a general physician. Some advanced packages also offer consultations with specialists, such as cardiologists, orthopedists, or endocrinologists, to provide targeted health advice based on test results.

4. Benefits of Health Check-Up Packages at Paras Hospital Gurgaon

Paras Hospital offers these packages with convenience, expertise, and patient care in mind. The hospital’s facilities and well-trained staff make the check-up process efficient and comfortable. Here are some of the top benefits of opting for a check-up package at Paras Hospital:

Early Detection and Intervention: Regular screenings help detect potential health issues early, allowing for quicker and more effective treatment. This is particularly valuable for lifestyle diseases like hypertension, diabetes, and cholesterol problems.

Comprehensive Health Insights: Paras Hospital’s packages cover a broad spectrum of health indicators, giving patients and their physicians a well-rounded view of their health. These insights can guide dietary changes, exercise routines, and lifestyle adjustments to promote long-term health.

Time-Saving and Cost-Effective: By bundling tests together, these packages save time and are often more affordable than getting each test done separately. Patients also benefit from multiple tests conducted in one visit, avoiding the hassle of multiple appointments.

Personalized Health Recommendations: With consultation included in the packages, patients receive personalized health advice based on their results. This helps in creating a tailored health plan to prevent or manage potential health issues effectively.

Conclusion: Take a Step Towards Preventive Health with Paras Hospital

Investing in a regular health check-up is an investment in your health. Paras Hospital in Gurgaon offers well-structured health packages to cater to a variety of needs, from basic assessments to comprehensive evaluations. By choosing a package that fits your lifestyle and health needs, you can stay proactive about your health, prevent future complications, and lead a healthier life. Whether you’re looking for peace of mind or a more detailed health assessment, Paras Hospital’s health check-up packages provide a reliable, efficient, and expert-driven approach to preventive healthcare.

[shosiblog]

Are There Any Legal Protections for New Mothers on Maternity Leave?

Maternity leave is a critical time for new mothers to recover from childbirth and bond with their newborns. However, beyond the immediate benefits, new mothers also need to be aware of their legal rights and protections during this period. Many countries have established laws to safeguard the rights of mothers, ensuring job security, financial stability, and a supportive environment during maternity leave.

In this blog, we’ll explore the legal protections that are in place for new mothers on maternity leave, including job security, anti-discrimination policies, and financial support. Plus, for mothers curious about postpartum recovery, check out our guide on How Long Should I Wear a Maternity Belt After Delivery in a Day?

Key Legal Protections for New Mothers on Maternity Leave

1. Job Security

One of the most important protections for mothers on maternity leave is job security. Various laws ensure that women can return to their jobs after maternity leave without facing demotion, termination, or discrimination.

In the United States: The Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) guarantees up to 12 weeks of unpaid leave for eligible employees, with job protection. This means new mothers have the right to return to their same or equivalent position after their leave.

In the European Union: The EU guarantees at least 14 weeks of paid maternity leave, and many countries extend this period. During this time, job protection is a fundamental right, ensuring that mothers can return to their job with the same pay and responsibilities.

2. Protection from Discrimination

Legal frameworks in many countries prohibit discrimination against women based on pregnancy, childbirth, or maternity leave.

In the United States: The Pregnancy Discrimination Act (PDA) prevents employers from discriminating against pregnant women or those who are on maternity leave. This means that employers cannot make hiring, firing, or promotion decisions based on a woman’s pregnancy or maternity leave status.

In the United Kingdom: Under the Equality Act 2010, employers cannot discriminate against women during their pregnancy or maternity leave. This protection extends to ensuring women are not treated unfavorably in terms of pay, promotions, or working conditions during or after maternity leave.

3. Paid Maternity Leave

Many countries have introduced laws that mandate paid maternity leave, providing financial support during this period.

In Scandinavian countries (Sweden, Norway, Denmark): Governments offer some of the world’s most generous paid leave policies, providing full or nearly full pay for up to a year or more.

In Canada: Maternity leave benefits include 15 weeks of paid leave at a rate of 55% of your earnings, followed by parental leave that can last up to 35 additional weeks.

In countries where paid leave is not mandated at a federal level, companies may still offer paid leave as part of their benefits package. Always check your employer’s maternity leave policy to see if you are entitled to paid leave.

4. Healthcare and Benefits

Some countries provide additional legal protections ensuring access to healthcare and other benefits during maternity leave.

In many European countries and Canada, maternity leave includes access to healthcare services, parental leave options for partners, and sometimes financial bonuses for families after childbirth.

In the United States, the Affordable Care Act requires that health insurance plans cover maternity care, including prenatal care, childbirth, and postpartum care, ensuring that mothers have the medical support they need throughout their leave.

5. Flexible Work Arrangements Post-Maternity Leave

Many countries and companies recognize that returning to work full-time immediately after maternity leave can be challenging. Legal protections in certain places ensure flexible work arrangements.

In the UK: After returning from maternity leave, employees have the legal right to request flexible working arrangements. Employers are required to consider these requests seriously and provide a valid reason if they decline.

In Australia: The Fair Work Act provides for the right to request flexible working arrangements for parents returning from maternity leave. This could include part-time work, remote work, or flexible hours to accommodate childcare responsibilities.

Global Variations in Legal Protections

Legal protections vary from country to country, with some offering more extensive support than others. While Scandinavian countries are known for their generous maternity leave policies, other nations, like the United States, have fewer mandated protections, with unpaid leave being the standard. It’s essential to research the specific legal protections in your country or region and consult your employer’s policies to ensure you understand your rights.

Next Steps: Understanding Your Rights and Postpartum Care

It’s crucial for new mothers to be aware of their legal protections during maternity leave. Whether it's job security, protection from discrimination, or access to paid leave, knowing your rights will help you navigate this important period with confidence.

For mothers curious about postpartum recovery and how to best support their bodies after childbirth, check out our detailed guide: How Long Should I Wear a Maternity Belt After Delivery in a Day? This guide offers valuable information on when and how to use a maternity belt to promote recovery and comfort.

Need more advice? Contact us for personalized assistance on maternity leave policies and postpartum recovery. We’re here to help you through every step of this journey.

[barneyandthepoetrymuse]

Intolerable tolerance…..

Absolute censorship causing civil unrest…

News off the reels with restricted access…

It’s the same tired headline so give it a rest

We’re political prisoners together in protest

Immigration systems broken under stress

Strategically defeated, out moved at chess

Democratic countries, now the global toilets

The land was pleasant until we destroyed it

Living is costing a lot of people’s patience..

Culture cancelled, borders aren’t stationed

The libertarians are selling long vacations…

…on our streets for international relations…

Open the floodgates…let in the miscreants

Au revoir to France, arriving in their millions

demanding high standard living conditions..

..and entry point free heath care provisions

Release the criminals overcrowding prisons

making the space for good British citizens

We’re an indigenous mob so nobody listens

…If WE ask YOU to respect OUR values and traditions…

Sylvester Stallone’s at the Cobra mission…looking for his next big screen commission.. Playing Starmer the leader of an opposition

who took up office and your right of opinion

Crime rates are rising, hitting new depths…

Trafficking is commonplace, the law is inept

Being honest in public has lost its defence

Your criminalised logic is unlawful dissent…

Far from right if you’re right on the left…..

left wing cunts always think they know best

…but who’s gonna mop what’s coming next in this ever unfolding ideological mess…..

There was no-one to talk to in the NHS…..

I must be a girl because I’m wearing a dress

Crisscross hormones & swap out your sex nobody mentioned irreversible side effects

They muted the voices of transition regrets

Mutilated girls, removed from their breasts

Peeled away layers like inanimate objects…

without understanding the cognition yet…..

How can struggling minds consent to this?

It’s your journey minus, mental health visits

Giving you drugs and selling you the tickets

To the harmful pharmaceutical business…..

Bullshit to patriarchy and fuck off feminists

Addicted to vanity, part time receptionists

The independent women living off benefits

They want it all in the battle of the sexists…

A bloke beating up chicks at the Olympics…

You do the maths and check on the physics

Ignore the biology & don’t get into specifics but that is a man behind his cowardly fists…

The pieces of human dignity are in bits…..

Guy vilified for kissing a woman on the lips

And this motherfucker is kicking the shit...

out of vulnerable women in fights that are fixed…..

I suppose if we’re not phobic we’re racists…

Disagree and they’ll gaslight the language…

Boys against girls is fair sporting practice…

That shit is only frowned upon in marriage…

The establishment’s already established…

Pick up your phone and alter the tariff…

It’s time to pay your BBC censorship taxes..

Towards Hugh Edwards’ pension package…