#YES I agreed to that long day. BEFORE I WENT TO THE ER FOR MULTI-DAY PALPITATIONS

[thelastspeecher]

Me, very politely in an email to my department: This would be a very long day of work, would someone be willing to help me out?

One co-worker's reply: It's just an extra hour. Stop being a whiny piss baby. Just drive four hours, do three hours work, drive another hour, do about half an hour's work, and then drive two more hours all in one day like a fucking grown-up.

[merryfortune]

Peck

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt #41 Dove

Ship: Snowangelshipping | Asana/Chevelle

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! SEVENS

Word Count: 1,899

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags:  Fluff, First Kiss, Humour, Puberty Blues, Misunderstandings,  Mild Innuendo

  Asana had been thinking about it for a while now but it was probably time for her and Chevelle to have their first kiss.

  She had come to this conclusion after much thought. It just seemed like the next milestone they ought to achieve. After all, they have been on a handful of dates already in the short time they had decided to officially court as it were and they had also spent many moments holding hands.

   Though, it was in the sweetness of holding hands that Asana did predict a possible issue. Chevelle liked to go very slowly, it appeared. Asana did not mind but she still distinctly recalled the very first time they had held hands as a romantic act rather than a platonic one. It most certainly caught Chevelle up in a flurry, it made Asana laugh - both now and then - but she wondered if it was an omen that was going to set the tone for the rest of the relationship milestones that she envisioned for them both.

   Chevelle had lovely hands. They were magician’s hands, long slender fingers with a soft palm. Although, none but Asana knew this privilege given that he wore white gloves all the time but Asana had her tricks.

   She had invited Chevelle up to their private garden on the roof for a high tea. It was their favourite locale for a casual date; the sort of date that didn’t count towards Asana’s personal tally of all the dates that they had ever been on. Teatime and high teas were their private time to bond, not necessarily to date. There was a distinction though even Asana, ever eloquent, did often fail to explain it but Chevelle understood and agreed with her on that note. Though in this instance, high tea could absolutely be a date since Asana had big plans and she enacted them well before they got to the roof.

   She slipped out her hand to Chevelle’s right arm and interlocked it. Asana moved in closer and soon enough, she had Chevelle entangled in her own arms, making him a blubbering, blushing mess. But Asana didn’t stop there, although Chevelle’s reaction was already both sweet and satisfying. She slid her hands down Chevelle’s arm and put her fingers under the fabric of his gloves.

   He looked fit to protest her, even Trapigeon, ever loyal on his shoulder was making a loud fuss, but Asana came well prepared for any duel and love was absolutely the be all and end all duel. She nuzzled in even closer as she held onto his hand: both of hers locked over his, fingers entwining, toying with the glove, threatening to turn it loose, and then Asana gave Chevelle the look. It was utterly angelic. She batted her big, blue eyes at him and suddenly, her little dove was singing a very different tune to the embarrassed and rebuked one that he was trying to muster.

   “You are a sly one, princess.” Chevelle swallowed his initial reaction as Asana held his hand, playful and tugging at him, slowly wriggling off his glove until they had skin to skin contact. It was utterly scandalous. Salacious, even.

   But just once was enough to get Chevelle hooked on the idea of escorting Asana around like a true gentleman. Sometimes with gloves on, sometimes not. Now, Chevelle was comfortable walking around anywhere holding hands with Asana. On the school grounds, even in the corridors, and whilst on their dates around the scenic and romantic spots of Goha City, too. 

   However, that had been a while ago now and whilst it was a very special memory that Asana cherished, she thought it was high time to make some more like that. She loved the feeling of Chevelle’s hands - they were delicate yet made her feel safe to hold onto - and thus, she had no doubt in her mind that she would love the sensation of Chevelle’s lips as well. She had found herself observing him as he drank tea or ate sandwiches at their private tea parties. He carried himself exactly like a bird, behaving as though he were brittle and because of that, his demeanour was of grace and poise. Asana had never been kissed before but she was certain that if it was Chevelle, it would be entirely gentle and she couldn’t imagine a more wonderful thing.

   So, it was time to strategise once more and once more, her old faithful prevailed. She would be direct and forthright, no trickery or traps. So, she chose a date from the calendar and per her expectations, it was going to be a splendid afternoon for a tea party. Just herself and Chevelle, separated only by a multi-tiered display for their exquisite cakes, sandwiches, and other treats the Goha Sixth Elementary School cafeteria could provide. After all, it wasn’t just going to be her first kiss, it was going to be Chevelle’s as well, so Asana planned accordingly and she thought nothing would appeal to him more than familiarity and comfort, underneath a blue sky. She was swooning now just thinking about it.

   When the day came, Asana could not have been more pleased with the weather and had pep to her step all day. It surprised even Chevelle who had no idea that Asana intended to spring the possibility of their first kiss on him but was excited nonetheless for another of their tea parties.

   The wind was mild and the day itself was pleasantly balmy. There had been a soft rain the prior night and as such, the garden still glistened with a tender rain, making everything bloom brighter and more vivid. Their table by the garden centrepiece was set already with white linen table cloths and a display laden with macarons, meringues, and cucumber sandwiches without the crusts. It could not have been more perfect.

   Asana sighed happily as even though she had been the one to organise all this, it was Chevelle who was leading her through the garden bed paths that burgeoned with verdant flowers to their private spot. Hands entwined, of course. 

   “My lady.” Chevelle told her as he pulled out a chair for Asana.

   “My gentleman.” Asana returned the chivalry and sat down, Chevelle tucking her in. He then joined her by sitting at the chair across from her, the only other chair, of course.

   Chevelle smiled as he made an all but impossible selection from the goods in front of him and it was such a feather soft smile, it made Asana’s heart skip a beat. She watched, more eager than she meant to, as he gracefully poured out a warm cup of earl grey tea then took a sip. It only affirmed to Asana that she most definitely wanted to have their first kiss right here, right now and thus, threw all caution to the wind whilst Chevelle savoured that first taste of tea.

   “Pardon me, Chevelle,” Asana interrupted him and his eyes flicked up to her.

   “Yes?” he replied.

   “Have you ever thought about kissing me?” she asked, blurted out, really. She surprised even herself with just how uncouth she sounded.

   Chevelle’s eyes widened, he went bright red, “I - I could never.” he sputtered. “That would be entirely indecent of me.”

   “O-oh.” Asana murmured. She was uncertain as to how she ought to feel in the face of such a response.

   “We are far too young to be deflowering ourselves like that.” Chevelle continued, rambling and embarrassed.

   Asana blinked. It was just a kiss. Actually, it was just the mere proposition of a kiss. What was all this about being deflowered? Her eyebrow twitched as it just began to dawn on her but there may have been a misunderstanding between herself and Chevelle.

   “A-And what would I say to Galient? To my parents? No, it is far too early for us to even think about introducing chicks into our relationship.” Chevelle asked and his poor face was just getting redder and redder.

   “Chevelle!” Asana yelped. “Please, stop, I believe there is some confusion.”

   “Confusion?” Chevelle echoed. “Whatever confusion could there be, you are clucky already and I am still barely out of the nest. I could never kiss you because the consequences could be dire, I’m not ready to be a father.”

   Asana’s heart quaked and she wanted ever so badly to laugh at Chevelle but fortunately, she suppressed the impulse, “Chevelle, why are you under the impression that a kiss could, well, bear offspring?”

   “My parents have given me the birds and bees talk, of course. A kiss is what leads to the insemination of the egg.” Chevelle explained, indignant and folding his arms to prove his indignation.

   “I see.” Asana replied and she finally understood this situation. She nodded her head in deep though. “Chevelle,” she said, “I think you need someone else to give you the birds and the bees talk, because, er, when humans kiss… It does not turn out like that, not without a lot more… Machinations of the body, let’s say. However, I believe the kiss you were taught about was the cloacal kiss and I can assure you, I do not have one so no risk of chicks.”

   Chevelle, who had finally returned to his usual pallor after huffing and puffing and rambling, turned bright red once more. He agonised in embarrassment and Asana finally permitted herself a polite giggle at Chevelle’s expense. He couldn’t blame her. That was quite a mishap to make and though he had his hands in his face, he took a breath and was able to give Asana a sane and proper answer to the question that had catalysed this incident.

   “Asana, my princess,” he spoke very slowly, “I would be honoured to kiss you. Just once, though, just in case.”

   “So a little peck then?” Asana clarified.

   Chevelle slowly set down his hands and nodded, “That sounds perfect.” he replied.

   So, even though they had just sat down, they already got up again for there was a far more enticing treat than those piled high on the displays. Asana was suave as she got up, Chevelle was far more nervous than her and his hands shook. It was cute, making Asana giggle a small giggle, a superfluous breath, really.

   She stood close to Chevelle who appeared to want a bit more space. The compromise was awkward, not quite close enough but too far either and gave Chevelle the room to breathe that he apparently needed. His poor cheeks with their high cheekbones were slick with a nervous sweat and his pale skin was pink once more.

   “Are you ready?” Asana politely asked.

   “As I’ll ever be on such short notice.” Chevelle warbled back to her.

   “Good.” Asana said and she was the one to swoop in.

   The resulting kiss was anything but romantic, nothing at all that Asana had imagined but the fragrance of earl grey tea wafted through it so she couldn’t complain. Chevelle’s lips were soft but fleeting. The kiss lasted less than six or seven seconds, easily, but even after such brevity, Asana’s heart beat faster in her chest and she savoured the soft sensation. Her fingers brushing over her own mouth whilst she watched Chevelle retreat. He hid his face in the crook of his arm, clearly panicking that he had done something scandalous but it was just a kiss. Just a peck.

[bubblyani]

Deeper Relations: 08

(Freddie Jackson x Reader)

A Freddie Jackson Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 08: The Effect

Rating: Mature (18+) 🔥

Story Requested by: @97freaknik

Summary: Being the youngest sister of Jackie and Maggie, you were quite young when Freddie Jackson went to prison. Upon his return, you cannot help but recall your innocent love you had for him back then. And surprised by your transformation into womanhood, Freddie cannot help but form a desire towards you. Will a dangerously seductive attraction grow between the two of you? What will be the consequences?

Author’s Note: Being the story teller, I’m fanning myself writing this spicy story. Please note, I don’t personally approve of the actions taken by these characters aka infidelity. Just enjoy the drama like you’re watching an episode of the show lol. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist HERE

With the door properly locked, a sudden urge came over you. Stripping down, you stood in front of the mirror completely naked. This was nothing new. You remember doing the same a few months ago. The last time, you acted on this to prove yourself a point. Several points, to be specific. You wanted to prove the change you had undergone from a girl to a woman. You wanted to prove the denial of feelings that were unwanted and forbidden, giving yourself any reason to forget them.

But this time, you acted on this to celebrate.

The average person might consider this as a way to reconnect with one’s body. But what you did was different. For you just wanted to celebrate the change.

You were not in denial of those feelings, instead you were aware and proud of them. In fact, you were confident, and most of all, you’ve never felt sexier. As you eyes traveled across every inch of the reflection of your body, you just could not believe. Could not believe he laid his eyes on them, could not believe his hands had touched, his lips had tasted. All those blessings were completely unfathomable. You had changed, evolved in to a better version of yourself. And you were glad because finally, your wish had come true.

You had won in love.

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( One month later)

Family Dinner. It was that time. A tradition that would be carried out frequently, suddenly broke its cycle for the first time, delaying it for almost a month. But there were valid reasons, like Maggie and Jimmy finally moving to their own place for example. Nevertheless, it was lovely for all to get together after quite some time.

You managed to bring in the biggest surprise, by going through the biggest change. It was not intentional, for it just happened. The one who longed to fade into the background, had grown the most proactive.

Cooking had become a new hobby and the kitchen was a place of peace, that you grew confident in feeding others. So much so you offered to cook for the entire evening, giving your mother some time off to sit back and unwind with a glass of wine, until the rest arrived. Your change was practically announced by your welcoming greeting of a voice the moment they entered the house.

“Y/N…this is all so delicious! I’m impressed” With food still in her mouth, Maggie managed to deliver that line so perfectly. And given the looks of the others, including the children, it was safe to say that all agreed. You smiled brightly.


“Thank you,Mags”

Lena Summers turned to her eldest daughter. “Jackie darling… could you please ask your sister what’s going on with her?�� She said cheerfully, her face red as she held on to her glass of wine, “Cause whenever I would…she would just change the conversation”

As a mother, Lena had a point. The change was evident and incomprehensible. Tonight you were chattier, you were helpful, enthusiastic about every damned, thing that was discussed. You were even keen on what the children talked about. And moreover, the huge smile that adorned your face could not be wiped off throughout the entire time. But this phenomena, it was not limited to just today. You had been this way for a while. Smiling to oneself, a musical tune would always linger in your lips while a skip would stick in your step. And your eyes, the light that made them both shine, had an origin no one could pinpoint by yourself.

Jackie, however seemed not so convinced. With a cold smile, she looked at you. 
“Actually I wanted to ask her that myself…” she said, “What is going on with you?”

Guessing from her tone, it was very much clear she did not believe what she saw. Nor was she pleased. Why? You did not know. And frankly you did not care.

“Well…I guess I’m just…” You began, “I finally found the way to be happy with myself-”

“That’s not true…” Jackie cut in to your surprise, “I’m your sister and I know you’ve never been an unhappy child to finally be happy” she added in a rather snarky tone, the gold bracelets on her wrists clashed while she pointed her fork at you, “But this is just quite unexpected…so what is it?” She repeated the question, “You found someone new, maybe?” She asked, wearing a mischievous smile.

“Oh…” Maggie and Jimmy could not help but utter together. You looked down shyly. 
“Oh I rather not say” you said, chuckling. “Why not?” Jackie asked persistently. “Well… “ The moment you put your fork down, all were silenced,  “…suppose I say that I am in love…suppose I am…” you paused, suddenly lost in your thoughts with a smile, “…suppose I am..so very deeply.” Your voice laced with affection,“It’s just that the last time didn’t really work out…so maybe it’s best if I keep my mouth shut this time until I’m sure if er…this gets serious or not” you said. “Oh I agree, smart one Y/N…” Jimmy called out. Looking at him, you nodded. “Thanks, Jimmy” “But isn’t this wonderful? Y/N is in love” Maggie’s heartfelt tone made you laugh, as you picked up your fork again.

But yes, they were right. You really were in love. And you were indulging the honeymoon phase of your relationship, a phase you hoped would never end. For you treasured this relationship. The relationship with the irresistible man who sat across you at the table, next to your sister. A wonderful, yet secret relationship with Freddie Jackson.

Being a secret, the obstacles to overcome were many. The meeting place for example.

The Rose Gardens Hotel, the place that started it all, became the default location for the lovers. It was your home away from home. A quaint space for the two of you, to be free in love, and free to love. To love fearlessly and passionately.

On some weeks, the days were fixed along with the time, mostly being the afternoons.  But some weeks it would change. No matter when, it was made sure it was all unsuspecting and safe. And all everyone knew was that you were at lectures, and he was carrying out business.

Freddie was no fool, and so were you. To be suspected by anyone was a huge risk to take. In order to not cause any suspicion or accidental screwups, you showed little to no indication of your interest to each other at home. You made it quite convincing. So convincing it made the both of you laugh so hard.

When hotel rendezvous were null and void, when chance to make passionate love was not offered, fooling around would be the only option. And you both were willing takers. For even the slightest grope, fondle, grind or any other form of foreplay still satisfied the hunger for one another. Initially you were concerned whether Freddie would be contented by that. But to your surprise he was. This astounded you.

Fooling around, it would occur in the most unexpected of times, meaning every day was indeed a surprise, or an adventure.

There was a reason for your heart to skip a beat, or butterflies to fill in your stomach whenever you’d find Freddie drive by in your neighborhood, offering to drop you off to lectures. And, instead of actually going to lectures, You would end up in the suburbs, stopping by somewhere, where it was just the two of you. At the comfort of his car, in quiet seclusion.

The car was a witness many romantic escapades. Some of them would be when you would please him. Nestled in between his thighs below the carseat, you would taste him for as long as you wished. No one was there to judge. All the while his hands held you by the hair, displaying his approval and satisfaction, while proving more arousal. The other days would be when Freddie takes his turn to pleasure you. Having you sit on his lap, with your back pressed against his chest, was what he preferred. It made quite sense, especially when you curvaceous buttocks rested on his clothed manhood throughout the entire time. It would start out as innocence as you resting against him, indulging the beautiful view of what nature had presented to you. And then it would playfully proceed as to you watching his hand cleverly slither inside your thin sweater, just so he could fondle your eager breasts one at a time, just so he could marvel at their softness. It would get more heated, when you watch him wet his fingers with his own saliva, before encircling your nipples with moist, playfully pulling them to make them erect. Just when you thought things were heated already, he would take another step further, letting his other envious hand take the stage. He’d let you suck his digits, before digging into your skirt to caress and massage your wet slit, inserting them with ease soon after.

This also, was done in his own leisure, forcing you to grip his hair or even the leather seat until you’ve finally reached your peak. He even had the audacity to let you taste yourself in his fingers. All this while you savored the sweet nothings he muttered in your ear.

The physical pleasure was exciting, yes. But you were even more stimulated by the emotional connection you managed to form with him. Wherever you would meet and whatever you would do together, conversations would always take place somehow. The rush from genuine interest with talking and mutual listening was incomparable. With your enthusiasm shown, he was more than happy open up. Whatever the good or the bad, you listened to him. And with your indirect influence, Freddie clearly had evolved more as a gangster, being more careful, less reckless and clear headed enough to take in more responsibility and win the respect or many and be feared by many as well.

Picking on the piece of meat on your plate, you returned from your thoughts, “Yeah well…” you said, “…all I want is to find love as great what Maggie and Jackie has” you looked at your sisters. While Maggie beamed, Jackie smiled with pride.

“Yeah. She will, right babe?” She said, looking over at Freddie. Flashing his signature smile, he nodded enthusiastically as expected.

“Of course she will” he said.

Pulling her husband by the hand, Jackie kept her gaze on you while she leaned to kiss Freddie. Except he did not. Swiftly moving to the side, he rested his lips on her cheek instead. And he did that on purpose. Nodding, you looked down to resume eating. And you could not help but smile. That kiss, it was meant to say something. For that was him, pledging his loyalty to you in public. His very own symbol that his lips were yours from here onwards.

Why did it suddenly feel like there was a game between you and your sister? And you were the only one who knew? And which game you were not sure. Was it for winning his affections? Or succeeding in turning him loyal to one woman? And why did it feel like you won them all?

You could go down that path if you wanted to. The path to feeling pity, feeling guilty. For this was ethically wrong in so many levels. But you chose not to.

Because finally, you were truly happy. Because finally, you were in love the way you wanted to be. That passionate love that excited you. And it didn’t hurt anyone.You made sure of it.

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(4 days later)

“Ah! Yes…Oh!!! Fuck yes!”

The room at the Rose Gardens Hotel brimmed with the cries of your pleasure. One those rendezvous again between the secret lovers. And given the time, it was an afternoon delight as always. Except this time, Freddie had special privilege in the ‘tasting’ of the sweet dessert.

Your body, it writhed. Your hips rolled forwards and backwards in a steady rhythm. All the while you remained comfortably seated in bed, with Freddie’s face in between your luscious thighs. Sitting on one’s lover’s face had been a fantasy of yours, and here you were living it while he fed on you. Your long loose tresses moved gracefully when you threw your head back, maintaining the rhythm whilst being controlled by his hungry tongue that explored your most sacred place. Playing with your breasts, you made sure the buds were teased and stimulated the way he would always do, which sent you through the pathway to heaven. Your naked body glistened with sweat, making you look more attractive and convincing than any random actress in any erotic film. And what everything better were the delicious sounds that exited his lips whilst he savored you.

“Yes…that’s it. There’s the spot, Freddie!” You moaned, “I’m almost there…ah!”

Finally reaching the destination, You cried out as the climactic juices flowed out of you. You wanted to get up as quickly as you could, in order to avoid the mess in his face, but you could even consider that, you gasped as his tongue lapped up and licked all the remaining juices, until you were completely dry.All because he was famished for you. Literally. As much as he enjoyed tasting your food, nothing could be compared to the sweet taste of your own body. ‘Your little cupcake’ as he called it. Thinking about it for 4 days with waiting impatiently, he certainly was famished.

A few minutes later, Freddie came out of the shower. When he did, he found you sitting on the bed still naked. Leaning against the headboard, you stared at your wristwatch with a thoughtful expression. For suddenly you did not feel good. The more you analyzed it, you realized you were sad about something. And soon afterwards, you realized why. You sighed heavily.

“Why so quiet, babe?” Freddie’s voice reached your ears. Eyes still on the watch, you answered by shaking your head.

“Nothing…just”

“Awww come on!!…Freddie knows that’s a load of porky” You felt the bed shake slightly when Freddie landed on it next to you, “You can tell me…” he said. The moment you finally looked over at him, you were greeted with a gentle kiss. Kisses from his luscious lips were always lovely, you randomly thought. But that thought suddenly disappeared when you noticed what he was wearing.

“You’re wearing a bathrobe…” you muttered with raised eyebrows, “…you look different” you said with a questionable look. “Yeah? You mean like fancy different?” He asked with interest, showing himself off proudly, “ Don’t I look fucking regal? ”

You could not help but laugh at that. Freddie took your hand.

“Now come on… don’t change the subject” He said, using his convincing tone. Taking a deep breath, you decided it was better to just vent.

“I…I found out my grades this semester have gone bad.” You muttered shyly, “I’ve fallen so much behind”

It was true. Ever since this relationship came into being, you developed the tendency to skip classes more than usual in order to meet Freddie. And since the meetups increased than expected, your attendance rate was greatly affected. Which resulted in your lack of attention to the lessons and assignments. At the beginning you thought it wont be much of a problem and making up for it would be easy. But it was not as easy it sounded.

“Those fuckin’ wankers…” Freddie muttered, to which you shook your head frantically, while your hands played with the knot of his robe.
 “Freddie! It’s no one’s fault but mine…” You began, casually loosening the knot to open his robe. Fresh from the shower, his skin smelled like refreshing shower gel, “But…I know this is the only time we can meet.” You continued, as your fingers ran over the tattoos on his chest, “And I love this…” you said softly, bending down to kiss them, then looking up at him, “I love you.” You breathed devotedly, “And I don’t you want to get in trouble by forcing you to meet me at another time” you said affectionately, curling yourself next to him.  

“Well…” Freddie began, eyes half closed from indulging the kisses you placed on his abdomen, “…can’t you get the notes from any of your mates?”

Moving away, your jaw dropped with disbelief.

“Wow! You really don’t remember why, do you?”You scoffed with disappointment.

Because you remembered. It was one particular day when Freddie managed to drop you off to University after a quick session of fooling around. Gilbert Brown, one of the most studious students in your class had promised to lend you his notes. And keeping his word, he stood there outside the lecture building with the notes you needed. Moved by his kindness, you could not help but hug him with such gratitude. But as you closed the door behind you in the building, your eyes caught the of Freddie making conversation with your classmate. It seemed that he had whispered something to the young man’s ear, all the while he held on to his head violently. Ever since then, Gilbert never spoke to you again.

However, Freddie did not see the severity of your problem. For he has his own. “I didn’t like the way that bugger touched you” he growled softly. You clicked your tongue. “It was just a hug, Freddie. It’s not a big deal” “Well it is for me” he replied tad harshly.

During this relationship, the more you learnt about Freddie Jackson, the more you realized how jealousy ate him whole. The fire burnt in his eyes as he said those words. Sensing the anger in him, you grew a bit intimidated. Sensing your fear, his eyes suddenly grew softer.

“Y/N…” He began softly, surprising you as he hovered over you, “You don’t know how fuckin special you are…” the manner his voice evolved into a seductive one, made you gulp,“You’re like crack…” he went on, lifting a finger “You’re fuckin… addictive… and like no… other” just so he could gingerly run it over your rib cage, drawing little circles down your stomach, as you gasped softly “And the thought of other men realizing what a keeper you are…just…ah!”

He grunted all the sudden, when you finally realized how his hand left your body, only to feel his own manhood. With his eyes never leaving you, his hand worked on himself until he was hard.

How he spoke of you, how he revered you, it was clearly your weakness. Freddie Jackson had his way with words. And you were a victim. His desire for you had crossed many lines and his jealousy was evident. The level of how much he wanted you did not make you angry, instead it made you powerful. But more importantly, you were aroused beyond all measure. The dampened slit was proof enough. Spreading your legs wide open, you cupped his face, lust burning in your eyes.

“Fuck me…” you breathed.

And just like that, no more words were necessary for him to proceed.

You tasted his hungry kiss, crying out loud when you felt your inner walls fill up as he entered you with haste. He was particularly rough, moving faster than usual but he was fully aroused. Thus, the bed creaked louder as you moved along with it. Your ample breasts in turn bounced in effect. catching Freddie’s attention in an instant. Maintaining speed, his mouth latched onto the erect nipples, suckling on them hard for he could not resist.

“Ah yes…harder…ah!” Free to vocalize to your pleasure, you moaned out loud as he kept moving. You always welcomed him inside you, and loving him was never a burden. And both of your utmost satisfaction, release was met, the conflict was forgotten, and you rested for the rest of the day as you could not walk afterwards.

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(The next day)

Stepping out of the Lecture Building, you never felt more confused. You missed the good old times. The times when you were always ahead of lesson, well prepared with everything and anything. You missed being in control of this aspect of your life.

Walking back to carry out some errands, you began to debate with yourself on getting your studies on track. Would the library be resourceful enough? Or online courses? Before you could make a decision, you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. Turning quickly, you sighed in relief to find Marcus behind you.

“Hey!” You said with genuine surprise, to which he nodded with a small smile. “Where you off to?” He asked softly. “The Chemist…need to get some vitamins” “Oh! I’ll walk with you then” “Thanks…”

Walking together, you breathed in the comfortable silence shared. Looking over at him, you sensed a different energy. He did not look happy as he usually would. Since you both had different classes, the thought of meeting him had slipped off your mind completely. You felt guilty. You missed him. It had been a while since you saw your friends.

“We rarely see you around, you know” He began, when you both entered the Chemist Shop, “Is something wrong?”

With all that happened recently, you did not know what to disclose and what not to . You pressed your lips together, “Uh…you know. Stuff…” Your answer was ambiguous. Awkward silence filled as the two of you walked along the aisles. Chuckling, you were in dire need of a segue.

“Can you believe I can’t get anyone to lend me their notes from class?” You scoffed, eyeing the bottles of Vitamins, “Me… of all people…ha!” But Marcus did not answer nor express his surprise. Except he just stared at one of the bottles of pills. “Y/N…” he began, with his hands deep in his pockets, “I don’t know if you know this but…there’s a story going around about you” “What story?” “People they… they keep saying that blokes can’t talk to you or be associated with you anymore cause this gangster keeps showing up, threatening them not to. I saw him once…” Marcus continued, “Wasn’t that Freddie?”

You froze. You knew it. His actions certainly had brought forth noticeable consequences. So this was what his actions have brought upon you. No wonder nobody wanted to lend you notes. They were frightened of you.

“I mean…Why would your brother-in-law be so protective of you?” Marcus asked, unable to comprehend the situation. And frankly, so did you. “Oh you don’t know Freddie…” you chuckled nervously, avoiding the question at all costs, ,“He’s like this with all the women in the family” “Well I haven’t seen him do this before…” He snapped, which drove you to the edge. “Marcus! What do you want me to say? What do you expect me to do?? HUH?” Panting, you realized how loud and angry you sounded. Taken back by your reaction, Marcus looked disappointed.

“Are we not friends? Why can’t you tell us?” He said, his voice laced with sadness, “You really have changed, Y/N…” he murmured, “Heath was right…You barely see us anymore” Realizing the weight of your actions, you felt your heart break and you wanted it to stop. “Marcus please-” “No…” he cut you off firmly, “Call me when you finally figured out what’s going with you…”He said as he took his queue to leave, “or else don’t…”

Watching him walk out of the store, You sighed heavily, feeling shittier than you felt earlier. He was right, you have been a terrible friend. Barely seeing your friends, or calling them. As if they were suddenly wiped out of your interests at heart. Without even picking the bottle of vitamin pills you needed, you found yourself walking around the store. An empty feeling came over you. First studies, now your friends. Why was everything you had a firm hold on were slipping away from your grasp. As you kept walking, you caught the sight of one particular aisle.

Halting in your tracks, your eyes widened as you clutched your chest with shock.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your heart was beating so fast, you felt in your mouth. Exiting the store, you walked out with haste until you ended up speed walking. When that was deemed slow, you decided to run. The plastic bag floated up high as it hung on to your hand. You just wanted to get home.

Too long. It had been too long. And you did not even notice? How could you be so careless?

You ran so fast, anyone who passed by seemed irrelevant. Even storming into the house, you barely acknowledged your mother as you darted towards the bathroom.

“Having a bad stomach, love?” Lena Summers cried out from the kitchen. “Yes mum!” Answering back, you slammed the bathroom shut, locking it afterwards.

Exhaling deeply, you leaned against the door. The thought of this happening to you was simply unfathomable. You closed your eyes, as you began counting something using you fingers. But no matter how many times you tried, you were not relieved with the answer. Impatient beyond your control, you took the small box out of the plastic bag. You teared it open, to have the small yet long stick land on your palm.

Taking a deep breath for the better or for worse, you decided to get on with the next stage.

“Please say no …please say no”

Muttering to yourself like a prayer, the bare of your thighs felt the cool toilet seat as you began to pee into the pregnancy test stick. You shuddered. Was this another part of being responsible? You could not recall the last time you had your period, and glancing upon the aisle of sanitary napkins and tampons sudden forced you to skyrocket back to reality. You did not even stand up, you just kept sitting there, your panties still bunched around your knees. As the one minute went painfully slow, all you could do was to repeat your prayer with desperation.

“Please say no …please say no” Until you finally decided to take a look.

As your eyes widened, as your breath left your body, it felt as a vital part of you just burnt in smithereens in an instant, leaving nothing but the ashes behind you.

For your prayers, there were not answered. They were definitely not answered.

______________________________________

Chapter 9 HERE

Tagged: @starlightmornings​​​ @rogerfxckingtaylor​​​ @daydreamerinadazedworld​​​ @courtney-thevixeniris​​​ @kimmietea​​​ @shigarakitomuraxxxdabi​​​ @tealaquinn​​​ @rach5ive​

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[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 60 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 60 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

“Oi’ve nae talked wit’ ‘im about t’ose times.  Master Selked told m’ some, an’ the log provided t’e rest.  Oi ‘ad little t’ do for over a Wotan as Oi wa’ recuperating.  Oi had t’ practice readin’ yer writin’, so Oi read t’e log an’ ot’er books t’at ‘e’d collected.”

Kurin plied her chopsticks in silence for a bit, digesting this history behind things that had always been an unquestioned part of her life. Skye cocked her head and looked at Kurin’s platter questioningly. Kurin held out some roast on her chopsticks and Skye took it neatly.

Kurin looked across the table at Tanlin.  “Barad collects books?” she asked incredulously.

“Aye, ‘e reads bot’ Common an’ Arrakan an’ can struggle t’rough Barant.  ‘E ‘as books in all t’ree languages.  Nine o’ t’em are about t’e Boren Current Wars.”  She paused thoughtfully, “Actually, ten, i’ ye count Sula’s little manual.”

Kurin interrupted in surprise, “Sula wrote a book?  She never said anything about it.  Come to think, Darkistry mentioned it, too.”

Seriously, Tanlin replied, “Oi know wye Sula stayed quiet about ‘t.  Oi’ve read ‘t.  Darkistry’s probably t’e only one o’ us ‘oo actually understands it.  Oi’d recommend t’at ye nae read ‘t, t’ough Oi willnae stop ye.”  She paused and looked sympathetically at Kurin.  “T’will show ye a side o’ Sula t’at ye willnae care for.  Sula’s killed more people an’ sunk more ships t’an any ot’er person on Sea.  ‘Er book’s a manual for t’e destruction o’ ships an’ fleets.

“Wit’out t’e knowledge in t’at book, we’d probably ‘ave sunk t’e Fauline.  Wen Barad an’ Oi were in danger, t’e crew attacked wit’out ‘esitation.  None o’ t’em wa’ ‘appy about ‘t but t’ey did ‘t anyway.”

Kurin realized that what she was hearing was not a boast.  She already knew about her friend Sula’s war record — and how Sula felt about it. She digested the knowledge in silence.

The quiet stretched out into tension.  At the last, Tanlin asked, “Wen’re ye goin’ t’ actually start reading?  So far, ye’ve just leafed t’rough about eight Wohan’s wort’ o’ Log.”

Relieved to have something neutral to talk about, Kurin replied, “I have been reading, a bit slower than usual, actually.  I didn’t want to miss anything.  Barad has a fairly neat hand that’s usually easy to read.  

“How come he gets so little from each indenture sale?  Less than half, on average.”

Tanlin smiled in relief.  “Oi’m glad t’at ye asked t’e quest’n in t’at way.  A person ‘oo brokers indenture sales is entitled t’ nae more t’an ‘is legally defined costs plus ten percent o’ t’e balance o’ t’e sale.

“Indenture’s ‘ow t’e Arrakan fleet’s education system works.  I’ Oi wonted t’ learn, say, boat buildin’, Oi’d sell ye m’ indenture. Basically, ye’d pay m’ in advance for t’e term o’ t’e indenture.  Oi’d work for ye an’ ye’d teach m’ t’ make boats.  Tis a twa way contract.  T’e more I know goin’ in, t’e more m’ indenture’s wort’ t’ ye.  Oi might sell m’ indenture at auction or Oi might approach a particular person or ship.”

“T’e Grandalor produced indentures ‘oo could all read, write an’ figure plus ‘avin’ a good foundation in a useful skill.  T’e Arrakan fleet ships bid ‘igh prices for Grandalor indentures because t’ey were o’ t’e ‘ighest quality,” Tanlin finished proudly.

“So. . .the indenture is just a prepaid labor and education contract?” Kurin asked dubiously.

“Aye. Oi sold m’ ane indenture six times t’ earn m’ navigation an’ command skills.  Oi earned enow from t’ose sales t’ buy a share in t’e Princamorn, t’e ship t’at Oi wa’ born on.  Oi wa’ in a position t’ bid for a ca’taincy wen ane came open.  I remember evert’in’ o’ t’e Arrakan fleet but t’e people.

“M’ diary wa’ among documents t’at were salvaged from t’e wreck. Barad saved ‘t for m’ an’ Oi’ve read ‘t over an’ over but ‘t only told m’ some names.  T’ey’re only words in a book. M’ people’re still missing.”  Tanlin looked a little downcast as she added, “Mecat says t’at t’ey’re gone forever.”

Kurin finished eating and went back to reading the log.  Skye left the cabin the same way that she had come, pausing to close the port behind her.  Before the sun had reached its nadir, Kurin had nearly finished the just over twenty-five Gatherings of Barad’s Captaincy. Using a candle lantern to add to the ghostly light of the low sun, she finished the log and began the Purser’s accounts.

What Kurin learned there amazed her.  The Grandalor was a wealthy ship.  A very wealthy ship indeed.  Most of her wealth was held in accounts in the Arrakan fleet with large amounts on deposit in the Pallant and Daroff fleets.  Less than a third of her wealth was aboard or on deposit with the Naral fleet.

Kurin fell asleep to the quiet, uncanny whistling song of a faraway Orca that had never stopped singing, all day.

Kurin awoke suddenly in the middle of the third Night Watch.  The low arctic sun was coming fairly brightly through the port.  She had fallen asleep while reading and was surrounded by an untidy nest of log books, accounts, a few diaries and other records.

It took a moment to pin down what had awakened her.  The Orca song had become loud and clear.  It was punctuated by the shushing splash of the whale breaching and rolling and the occasional splashing report of the multi-ton creature leaping and falling back to the sea. Kurin’s heart leaped in fear for those in the sickbay.

Kurin could see the quiet form of Captain Tanlin sleeping slumped in a stuffed chair.  She felt a slight twinge of guilt at having fallen asleep in the Captain’s bunk as she slid silently out of bed.  She stumbled over the sleeping form of Arnat, curled up on the floor beside the bunk.  The commotion brought Tanlin to instant alertness. Arnat stretched.

“What’s the matter, Kurin?” he yawned.

“I hope, nothing.  Perhaps much.  The Orca is singing close by.”

“Mother!” Arnat called, heading immediately for the cabin door.

Tanlin was through it before he could get there.  Kurin followed him through the passageways of the Grandalor to the sickbay as swiftly as she could.

Doctor Corin looked up from where he was working on Lenai.  “I was about to send for you, Captain, and Arnat, too.  We are losing her.  I have killed her pain with Hag venom, so that she can talk.  She is weak but lucid.

“I thought that she should have those that she cared about near to her at the end.”

“Well t’ought o’, Doctor Corin,” Tanlin responded and turned to the doctor’s aide.  “Mikka, go get Barad, quickly.  ‘E should be ‘ere, too.”

The soft, concerned voice of Lenai came clearly to them all, “Did we do it?  Did Kurin come with us?”

Kurin stepped to the bedside, where Lenai could see her.  “I came, Lenai. I am here because of you.”

A hand reached out from under the covers and grasped Kurin’s arm weakly.  “Then it wasn’t a waste.  When the big red haired man stabbed me I feared that my life was lost to no use.  Save Arnat. See that he’s got a ship to call home, please?”

“I think that this ship will stay his home.  I’ve been looking at your case and have agreed to be your advocate before the fleet.”

Lenai smiled.  “I just wish that Arnat was here.  I want to hold him one more time before I go to Iren’s halls.”

“He is here.  Arnat, come over where you mother can see you.”

Arnat came, dry eyed but shaking, to his mother’s bedside.  She reached out and took hold of his arm with one hand and wrapped the other about him.  “Arnat, never fear the Orca’s song.  I can hear it calling me to Iren’s halls.  I won’t hurt there, and I will always love you.”

She relaxed, letting out a long breath.  Her arms fell from him and hung limp.

Barad, who had come in only moments before, knelt at her bedside and crossed her arms over her chest.  Tanlin joined him.

Barad said softly, “While there is a Grandalor, Arnat will have a ship that is his home.  I have no children of my body but I will have Arnat as my own.  He was one of the first to swear to us and the oath that we gave binds us.  We have all chosen one name and to be of one blood.”

Tanlin said, “T’ere’re nae orphans in a Wide Wing rookery because all take care o’ t’e young toget’er.  So we’ll care for Arnat. T’ere’ll be nae orphans on t’e Grandalor.  Oi’ll  log t’e order.”

Outside, the whale still sang but even to the untrained human ear, they could hear that it was a different song.  A second voice and a third joined in.  In moments whales were leaping and singing all about the ship.

In a corner of the sickbay, sitting on a bunk, Kurin was weeping. Another one dead.  Another part of her life shattered.  

The simple pride that she’d always had, that held her together when loneliness or fear of loss rose up, was in ruins in her heart. Longin born.  So simple.  So strong.  So ruined by the events of the last few days.  

Kurin wept for the young mother she’d tried to save.  Dead for the crime of wanting to talk to her.  Killed by the Longin.  Kurin’s ship. Her home.  A part of herself.  Through tears Kurin saw Arnat being rocked in Tanlin’s arms and wished desperately that she was him. Safe.  Held.  Loved.

TO BE CONTINUED

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[kaiba-fangirl]

Fill in the questions/statement as if you are being interviewed for an article and you were your muse

Tag 10 people to do this meme, (repost, don’t reblog)

TAGGED BY: not @rogueprinceconsort =P & I know I’m not a RP blog, but I am a fanfic author so I still do the same kind of stuff, just everyone at once with chapters, so I’m sure ya won’t mind... idk itching to write Seto but his mind is all over the place in Ch7 of And You? (AO3/FFN), & I know I’ve missed a bunch of personal tags in the past, so, well, I’m here now. TAGGING: anyone 1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

“Seto Kaiba.”  (海馬 瀬人 Kaiba, Seto)

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?

He narrows his eyes, already suspicious. “Legally, that IS my real name.”

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?

“I was born Seto,” he answers flatly, then smirks. “The Kaiba family name I earned for myself and my little brother at the age of 10, when Gozaburo agreed to adopt us thanks to my, superior negotiating skills.” [Seto after Egyptian Pharaoh Seth. Kaiba for, apparently, hippocampus/seahorse.]

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? “Taken. Happily married to the number 1 female duelist, Mai Valentine. She’s now heading the new Fashion Tech and Merchandise Department at Kaiba Corp.” [but he’s also still looking >.>]

5. HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS? “Just bleeding edge technology development and superior dueling skills,” he shrugs smugly. [and hacking.] [You also accidentally activate latent magical powers every so often, dumbass. Sure he’s a genius. A genius that weaves techno-sorcery into everything & commands gods without even knowing it.] “Anything else you may have heard about magic or spirits or real monsters, is all just nonsense hocus pocus. It’s sensationalists trying to make our amazingly life-like holographic projections seem dangerous.”

6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE/GARY STU. “Heh, doesn’t that just mean born talented? You should be so lucky.”

7. WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR? “Blue,” he chuckles childishly. “It was probably what first drew me to, you know, Blue-Eyes, when I was young.” [It’s not. The Blue-Eyes White Dragon was his magical monster of light ‘girlfriend’ in Ancient Egypt in a past life of his 3000 years ago.]

8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR? “Chestnut.”

9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? “Living, my little brother, Mokuba, and now my lovely wife.”

10. OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS? “No pets. I barely have time for having two people in my life now it seems, and that’s even with Mokuba off travelling.” [any pet energy is expended on more Blue-Eyes White Dragon themed everything]

11. THAT’S COOL I GUESS, NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. “You wanna see a REAL Gary Stu?! As in, there is no reason he should have made it this far?! Joey fuckin Wheeler. This loser stole his way into my tournament, then has the nerve to even challenge me for 3rd place as if that meant anything, and he still ends up 4th even?! How! He operates on pure luck, and leeching off his ‘friends!’ His deck is a mess, I mean have you even seen his lineup?!?!” [Well that would all be redacted. Now, since this is for an interviewer for a published article...] He calmly and thoughtfully looks off at a spot on the far wall behind the interviewer. He purses his lips and furrows his brow, genuinely distraught, drawing from a direct encounter. “I’m actually more concerned than ever about the state of refugees- whether they have that official label or not. Around the world. Especially the children. These children don’t know what’s going on, and people say they care about children, but they really don’t. They’re not thinking of those kids- of refugee kids. Of poor kids. Of orphans or abused kids. And the way these refugees are being treated, those kids are getting hit with all those things at once. Ya know, I- I was fortunate enough to have that opportunity to be adopted, in a strong first-world nation, but I know what it’s like, to know that the grown ups are just using you, not listening to you. You’re nothing to them; maybe pawns. Now, I’m doing all I can, as president of Kaiba Corp, but there is still only so much we can do. We’re not making tanks or any weapons at all anymore-” He chokes at the thought of a tank staring him down specifically, compared to the latest news. He clears his throat to manage. “Not since the day I took over. We may not be contributing to that military industrial complex anymore, but the state of refugees today is still just as bad if not worse. Now they’re using weapons outlawed by the Geneva Conventions, and in countries that pride themselves on freedom and opportunity. Pteh. It’s madness. It’s evil.” [...aaand that just became the cover story] [We’ll be back after after a short break.]

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING? “Besides dueling, uh, tinkering. Reading. Hacking into random databases I shouldn’t be in.”

13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? “Next question. Don’t even print that, or you’ll be hearing from my lawyers. And they don’t play so nice.” [By ‘lawyers’ I’m pretty sure he just means goons.]

14. EVER… KILLED ANYONE BEFORE? "No.” [Gozaburo.]

15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? "Dragon.”

16. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. "Tch, I wouldn’t have gotten to be president of a multi-billion-dollar corporation if I had bad habits.”  [That is literally his worst habit. Also how he got there is because of all his bad habits.] He chuckles at what he’s about to make fun of. “Then again, some people think that working too much is a bad habit.”

17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL? "How could I when I’m already on top?”

18. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? "Irrelevant.” He smiles menacingly. “Card games are more important anyway.” [Bi and trying to figure out how to tell his wife. Then again once he does that, the press will be easy. Possibly also grey ace or demi, since he does enjoy the physical aspects of being married & his crush.]

19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? “Graduated high school early and then went right back to work as CEO, at the time. I don’t have time to waste getting a piece of paper to validate my knowledge that I’m already putting to use at Kaiba Corp everyday. --but I certainly support everyone staying in school as long as they can. Kaiba Corp offers a free college tuition program for any employee, paid ahead of time, and schedules can be worked around class and homework time as needed.”

20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY? “I never thought I would want to marry, but I have always assumed I would want to adopt. Now I am married, and we both want to adopt. Someday. It needs to be when I can have time for them...” [and he’s wondering why you are supposed to only marry one person...]

21. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS? “Yeah,” he laughs, genuinely embarrassed at this level of pure idolization, “I find it endearing to see people dress up as Yugi and I at events.”

22. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? “Losing my little brother.”

23. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? “Full-length pants, tight fitting turtlenecks, boots, and a trenchcoat. More leather and straps and buckles, the better.”

24. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? “Of course. My little brother and my wife.” [and Joey]

25. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF? [he just makes this face:]

[but possibly the last time he did hard drugs]

26. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS) “Highest class.” He winks, for the spotlight.

27. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? “I don’t need ‘friends’ outside of my family.”

28. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? “Finally, an intelligent question!” he laughs rudely. “My thoughts are that we should change the standard approximation for π to something closer to 3.16. That’s what I use in my calculations, and I find things just seem to work out better for me because of it.”

29. FAVORITE DRINK? “I’ve started drinking a lot more water, and I think that’s pretty much all I drink lately.”

30. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE? “It’s comforting being in my office, knowing where I belong, knowing that with me there, everyone I love is safe, knowing how I got there, and being proud of all I’ve accomplished, but...” [sometimes anxiety about it being Gozaburo’s old office creeps into his mind like an evil spirit or ghost...] “But more than that, I enjoy the wild freedom of just taking my Blue-Eyes jet out with some good music playing.” [oh my various gods he will always be an emo teen at heart <3]

31. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? He scoffs. “Yes, I am genuinely interested in my wife. Mai is an amazing person. And- Ah, and, um, next question?” [and Joey!]

32. WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY? “What kind of magazine is this for, anyway?” he asks as an aside, then thinks up a ridiculous enough response. “Ever hear of Zorc? I’d say that’s roughly one-third the size of mine.” Under his breath, he scoffs in disgust. “Imbeciles.”

33. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? “Er, a private pool, thanks. Too many paparazzi anyplace else, and I wouldn’t want to close off anything from the public.” [I hear there’s a river in Egypt he lives in though]

34. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? “Independent. Strong. Great duelist. Someone who knows what it’s like at rock bottom, but still managed to claw their way to the top...” [he spaces out off to the side]

35. ANY FETISHES? *zoom out to room full of Blue-Eyes White Dragon themed EVERYTHING* “Nah.” [*insert Will Smith presenting his AO3 tags]

36. SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

[Switch! But “And You?” is stuck at a T rating, sooo...]

37. CAMPING OR INDOORS? "The fuck- you’re giving me whiplash with these questions,” he mutters. “Camping sounds nice. Real camping. Mokuba and I used to build forts and play outside a lot. I should ask him if he wants to go on a camping trip when he gets back. I doubt- well, no, I think Mai would like that, too.” [And Joey can cook them “candy bars!”]

38. ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END?

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

Random Bits: FF7 02

Chapter 4

[Setting - Zack and Cloud are introducing Inspector Baerbotamm to all the unique aspects of their new training facility, much to the Inspector's dismay]

[Location - Training field - After a brief and exciting tour of the Plain of Pain, and a mildly worrying introduction to The Course, it's off to a less stressful tour of the Main Building, or so Percival thinks.]

Zack manhandled Inspector Baerbotamm toward the army's main building. A multi-storied structure of steel and glass squatting on a blanket of grass like a diamond on velvet.

"This is the Main Building," Zack said, effortlessly pronouncing the capitals as he walked the nervous Percy up the concrete path. "It's name is 'Main Building'"

Percival followed the line of Zack's finger as it pointed his attention to the area above the entrance. Large steel letters confirmed that yes, this building was named 'Main Building'.

"We thought we'd keep things simple, to avoid any unnecessary confusion." Zack said cheerfully. He could see that this oddly pleased Percival. Points for being clear and concise had just been awarded. There was nothing more annoying to Percival Pinwinkle Baerbottam than the printed word being vague, unclear, contradictory, or worse, open to interpretation.

"Well, it certainly is very correct!" Percival responded, a note of satisfaction creeping into his voice.

"Well, we kind of had to make sure everything was very simply and clearly labeled." 

"Especially for the Cadets," Cloud interjected. "Since some of them come in needing 'front' and 'back' written on their underwear."

"Oh, my..." Percival said, sounding dismayed.

"Yeah," Zack agreed," We decided it would be a good idea after all that trouble with that one Cadet..." he ended with a ellipsis, a tempting trail of conversational breadcrumbs left to entice the Inspector's timid sense of curiosity. 

Percival was quite certain that he didn't want to know what 'all that trouble' meant. Surely it would involve something disastrous, disruptive, or-gods forbid-unstructured!  His fragile sense of Spontaneity, Adventure, and Free-spiritedness huddled in the corner and screamed in panic as Curiosity said "I'll just take a little peek..." and reached for the doorknob of their Panic Room.

"What sort of trouble?" Percival found himself asking  in spite of his better judgment.

"Weeeeell," Zack replied "Let's just say we had to write 'Goes on Head' on his uniform caps, and 'Goes on Ass' on his underwear."

"Goodness gracious!"

"He got the hang of it, eventually." Zack assured him as they climbed the short set of concrete steps," Is seemed that his 'confusion' was just due to a bad case of Petty Obstinance. It took about three days, but his malady was completely cured after intensive treatment using a rather...unconventional method."

"Oh?" Percy said weakly. He was beginning to dislike ellipses.

"Oh, yes. We cured him by allowing him to wear his underwear on his head. After his platoon mate, who just so happened to have a medical condition causing excessive sweating, got done wearing them."

Percival's stomach shriveled up and gave Curiosity a fiery glare as it peeked sheepishly from behind the door, while his other sensibilities had a group vomit in the corner. The rest of his faculties mounted a desperate search for the fabled Brain Bleach which was rumored to have the ability to scrub away even the most horrific mental image.

A sudden blast of cool air distracted Percy from his inner turmoil. Zack and Cloud had just ushered him through the double glass doors of the Main Building.

Percival was rather impressed, in spite of himself. The lobby was  tidy, spacious and brightly lit by both natural light and pleasantly old-fashioned incandescent light fixtures, and furnished in cozy, somewhat informal furniture pieces that punched Percy right in the nostalgia. It was an odd mix of clean and warm elements that undulated up to Percival's ear and breathed in a seductive whisper like a fancy perfume commercial: 'organizaaation!'

"You okay, Percy?" Zack asked as Percival shivered and his eyebrows did a little wiggle.

"Er...Oh, yes. Quite. I was just, er, admiring the design."

"I know, it's great, right? Much more 'homey' and inviting than the old one!" Zack said, pleased.

"I especially like the floor," Percy continued, his attention glued to the lobby floor like a magpie with a shiny bauble. "It's so clean and glossy!"

"It's polished every day with the tears of Cadets and SOLDIERs," Zack said. "It seems like the saltier the tears, the shinier-!"

A strange, halting squeak, like a squeegee on damp glass stuttered through the air, tripping into the conversation. All three men turned, ears following the auditory sputter as it grew steadily louder. Finally, from behind the reception desk's mahogany paneled wall, one of the ELITEs  appeared in his wolf form, slowly dragging his backside across the floor.

Percival's hands flew to his mouth, stifling a sound that was half a gasp and half a gag.

Wrapped up in proctologial locomotion the ELITE let out a startled yelp as he was abruptly grabbed by the scruff and a deceptively calm voice hissed into his fluffy ear, "What by Minerva's bra straps do you think you are doing?"

The wolf tried to play dead, in the hopes that Cloud's ELITE form's preference for moving victims would make him lose interest. No such luck.  Cloud hissed, a sound like a cross between a snake hiss and a piece of paper being violently ripped in half, and gave the ELITE a hard shake. 

"Did I just see you butt-surfing across my floor, leaving your butt-pucker streaks where I have to walk?" Cloud said in that calm, off-handed tone that eventually even Cadets learned to fear.

The wolf whined again and attempted to grovel but deep down he knew there was not getting out this mess unscathed. Hope of a mild punishment bloomed on the wolf's face as Cloud sent a passing SOLDIER off to Janitorial for a bottle of cleaner. The wolf even went so far as to relax as the bottle was brought and Cloud lightly spritzed the floor with it. This wasn't going to be so bad after all! It looked like he was just going to have to clean the floor. That wasn't going to be too hard!

Hope withered as Cloud gave the soiled floor a final misting, then grabbing the wolf by two handfuls of back fur, turned to the 3rd Class SOLDIER who had brought the cleaner and asked "What do we do when faced with hardship, Private?"

The SOLDIER snapped to attention and screamed "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome, Sir!"

Cloud nodded, and said "Well, Private, seeing as I lack proper cleaning equipment, I will just have to improvise."  Then without even a grunt, Cloud gave a heave, slapped the wolf down on the floor and proceeded to use him as an impromptu mop. When he was done, Cloud dismissed the wolf, now damp and smelling of lemony fresh pine trees, sending him scurrying off, tail tucked and belly low to the ground. It could have been worse, the canine part of him thought. He could have used The Rolled Up Newspaper!

With the minor interruption cleaned up, Zack led Percival down the hall behind the reception desk, pointing to the hallways leading off to the left and right. 

"The left wing contains the Infirmary, storage, and the Lab, and the right wing contains the cadets' barracks and officers' apartments. The President's office and rooms are in the upper floors of the Main Building, along with the administrative offices, lounges, and other boring stuff." Zack said as they started down the main hallway. He pointed out the important places, even though they were clearly labeled. 

"That is the Assembly Hall, the Recreation Room, the Restrooms, that's the door to the gardens, and this," Zack said in a very quiet whisper as they started coming up on a plain, unobtrusive door. "Is the janitor's closet where Corporal Wharton arranges what he thinks are 'secret' canoodles because he doesn't know that practically the whole base knows he's banging the President's secretary."

"My goodness!" Percival whispered, scandalized. "That is most certainly against regulations! He should have been reprimanded a long time ago!"

"Oh, I agree," Zack whispered with a sly grin as they paused a good distance away. "But I need solid proof, and not just hearsay." 

A playful titter fluttered out from behind the door. Zack motioned to Cloud, and they both flattened themselves dramatically up against the wall. Zack put a finger in his ear as if using an invisible ear piece and whispered. "Alpha Wolf to Paper Snake, the fox is in the hen house, over!"

"Paper Snake to-! Wait, why am I 'Paper Snake'?" Cloud asked, sounding slightly offended.

"Dude, have you heard yourself hiss?"

"So? I don't want to be 'Paper Snake'. That sounds like a kid's toy! I want a cool code name too!"

"Fine, you can be 'Danger Noodle'" 

"That's not any-!"

"Alpha Wolf to Danger Noodle, I'm going in! Repeat, I'm going in!"

Zack made a few hand signals and then started crawling towards the door. He paused and hopped into a crouch behind an invisible bush, making a show of looking around before rolling out from behind the bush to take cover behind an invisible tree. Cloud made the signal for 'all clear', and Zack waved and began moving again. Arms held out to the sides, he proceeded down the hallway, taking long, exaggerated steps with two little skips in between. You could practically hear the Pink Panther theme playing in the background. He pulled up next to the door, which giggled again, and silently gripped the handle before looking back at Cloud and Percival. Cloud nodded and gave the 'ok' signal.

In one fluid motion, Zack pushed down the handle and yanked the door open. There was a pair of surprised screams as a Second Class SOLDIER fell out of the closet at Zack's feet. A disheveled young woman in a rumpled white blouse and equally wrinkled gray pencil skirt bolted out of the closet, clearing the fallen man with a surprisingly athletic leap before rabbiting away.

"Corporal Wharton!" Zack greeted the man cheerfully. "Finally got caught with our pants down, did we? Wipe that cheeky grin off your face, SOLDIER-! Oh, my bad, that's not your face! On your feet and stand at attention, Corporal!"

Corporal Wharton flipped over and shot to his feet, standing at stiff attention. There was a long moment of silence in which Wharton began sweating nervously. Zack stared him in the eye, unblinking. He could see Wharton thinking: All those horror stories...are they true?!  

Zack Shifted into his half-form. His black wolf ears and tail were held proudly and at a dominant angle. He growled  and gave Wharton a grin with fangs in it. 

Wharton instinctively looked away. 

"You know the rules against fraternizing while on duty, especially with the President's personal secretary." Zack growled.  Wharton swallowed hard and managed a passable "Sir, yes Sir!"

Zack snapped his fingers, and one of his Mako wolves materialized at his side. "You will be escorted to your rooms, Corporal, where you will remain until this matter is handled."

Corporal Wharton saluted, brown eyes staring straight ahead in terror. "Sir, yes sir!"

 "And pull up your pants, Corporal!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

Zack Shifted back and turned to Percival and Cloud, grinning happily. "Alpha Wolf to Danger Noodle, Mission was a success! Repeat, Mission was a success!'

"Copy that, Alpha Wolf." Danger Noodle replied.

Zack patted Percival on the shoulder. He looked a little unsettled, which was nothing new. The man seemed to live in a state of perpetual anxiety, but he was looking a little more anxious than usual. 

 Better get him that drink fast, Zack thought Before Cloud ends up having to mop again!  Percival's eyebrows twitched nervously as they walked to the end of the hallway and stopped at the double doors under the sign "Mess Hall". 

"Here we are, the Mess Hall!" Zack said, flinging open the double doors with flair, to reveal a room with long rows of tables split in two columns. At the tables were more of the large wolves Percival had seen earlier. They were all crouching over the tables, muzzles buried in their chow bowls.

"Oh my Shiva!" Percival squeaked in horror, "There are dogs at the tables!"

Cloud and Zack both winced, and hissed "Shhhhh!"

"We don’t use the 'd' word around here!" Zack whispered with a grimace of distaste.

"The 'd' word?"

"Dog,", Zack clarified. "That's a four-letter word around here,"

"A three letter, four-letter word," Cloud added.

"But..."

"These are wolves, not dogs. Calling a wolf a dog is an insult. It's like calling someone..." Zack leaned over and whispered one of the worst, most profanity ridden insults he knew into the Inspector's ear.

Percival's face took on an almost corpse like pallor as the color drained from his face, his very blood trying to get as far from his ears as possible.

"Acceptable alternatives are 'doggo', 'pupper', and 'majestic floof'" Zack continued as Percival tried to regain his mental balance.

"But, there are animals in the Mess Hall!" Percy replied, clinging to his love of rules like a security blanket, while his sensibilities gagged as he imagined layers of dog, er, majestic floof hair covering every surface in the room, drifting in the air in clouds, and peppering the food.

"It's against Health Regulations!"

"It's cool," Cloud said smoothly, "They're Service Animals, so they're allowed."

"Yeah, we don't discriminate here." Zack added.

"But, the hair!" Percival insisted.

Zack heaved a mental sigh. This guy was way too uptight! "Oh, well, if that's all you're worried about,"

Zack turned, whistled loud and sharp, and barked "Shift!"

All the wolves immediately turned into men, three of which briefly continued to eat with their faces in their bowls before their brains nudged them and whispered Psst! Wrong shape!, and they sheepishly picked up their spoons and continued eating.

"I-is that dog food?!" Percival asked in a scandalized gasp as he witnessed one of the Mess Hall servers slap a heap of mixed canned and dry dog food into a bowl for a waiting ELITE.

"Top shelf quality!" Zack said with pride.

"You're feeding the men dog food?"

"Well, they are animals," Cloud interjected.

"But-!"

"It's nutritionally balanced, is high protein, and it's only served to the ELITEs." Zack said, taking pity on the high-strung man.  "I can get you the formula from the nutritionist, along with the research notes. The notes are pretty interesting, and they detail the research methods quite extensively."

The mention of formulas and carefully recorded notes seemed to appease Baerbotamm, at least a tiny bit. He stopped vibrating like a plucked bowstring and his eyebrows suddenly unscrunched in a twisting motion that made Cloud so uneasy that an involuntary hiss ripped its way from his throat.

It startled Percival so badly that he appeared to just teleport to the opposite side to the room like a bad special effect.

"Woahwoahwoah!" Zack said, looking back and forth between a bristling Cloud and a jittery Percy. "Let's dial it back a little!"

Cloud muttered an embarrassed apology while maintained his death grip on his clipboard, which he was clutching like a terrified Duchess clutching her pearls.

"How about we get a drink, huh?" Zack said, extending the proverbial olive branch before Barebotamm shook himself to pieces.

By now Percy's nerves had gone from merely jangling, to fraying. He desperately wanted to go back to his tidy, quiet office where rules were respected and not changed with total disregard all willy-nilly.  But he couldn't just leave! He had an inspection to complete, which had been assigned to him by the President himself.

"Come on, Percy, drinks are on me and Spiky," Zack said, giving the olive branch an encouraging shake. "You'll be doing us a favor. We need someone official to inspect bar. I mean, it is part of the Army."

A raw nerve whispered to Percival that maybe, this time, it would be acceptable to have a drink while on duty. Just one would certainly be alright. And besides, the host had offered. Then it made up some very convincing BS about etiquette and social interactions, which it submitted in triplicate along with some official looking sources that had just enough truth about them to avoid being categorized as outright lies.

"Do...you happen to have a good dark stout?" Percival inquired meekly.

"We sure do!" Zack affirmed happily.

The olive branch had been accepted, and the party took a good twenty minutes thoroughly inspecting the bottoms of two bottles and a pint. Percival even inspected a second pint, just to be sure that the drinks were up to par.

Once the beverage inspection was complete, and had earned an A+, a visibly less frazzled Percival Pinwinkle Baerbotamm was escorted to the next part of the tour.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[lisatelramor]

NLTSA Extra: Christmas at Aoko’s

Happy Holiday season guys! This is just after the epilogue of NLTSA

It was weird to be sitting in Aoko’s living room with Kaito at his side and Takumi fidgeting with excitement next to a cheap paper Christmas tree that looked like it had been made with a couple of pieces of green cardstock. Considering neither Aoko nor Takumi celebrated the holiday for religious reasons, it was more decoration than he’d expected. The invitation hadn’t been expected either, but it seemed that Takumi had wanted to share their holiday routine since Saguru had invited him and Kaito to pre-Christmas baking as part of Saguru’s routine. When Takumi asked, Saguru hadn’t been able to say no even knowing the high likelihood that it could end in disaster. Yet here they were, sitting in the same room without anyone killing anyone yet.

They’d eaten the odd Japanese tradition of fried chicken and Christmas cake before Takumi tugged them into the living room to exchange gifts.

They’d given Takumi his gifts first, a new lacrosse stick from Aoko, a multi-tool from Kaito, and a novel Saguru had come across that he’d thought Takumi might like. They’d been well-received with smiles, though the whole time Kaito and Aoko had kept glancing at each other like they were waiting for the whole thing to fall apart.

Surprisingly, it seemed they usually gave each other gifts at Christmas as well, even with everything between them, though Kaito had said they were predictable and not always given with the most friendly intent over the years. He’d listed off the exchanges when they’d been out shopping together. Aoko got something floral from Kaito, Kaito almost always got an addition to his clock ‘collection’.

The gift Aoko held out to Kaito was bigger than expected, rectangular instead of the square of an average wall clock box. Kaito took it with a wry smile.

“Let me guess,” Kaito said, slitting open the wrapping paper, “another cl—ock.” It wasn’t a clock, but something roughly shaped like a scrapbook. Kaito looked over at Aoko, shock and gratitude mingling openly in his expression. “I thought you threw this out.”

Aoko shrugged. She couldn’t quite look his direction as she waved a hand. “Someone rescued it from the trash,” she said, waving a hand like it would make the gift mean less. “I just found it when I was cleaning the closet and figured you would get more from it than I would.”

“What is it?” Saguru asked. He leaned over Kaito’s shoulder to see better. Kaito opened up leather binding to reveal photos—high school photos—some of him, some of Aoko, most together. There was even Saguru in the background of some as Kaito flipped through slowly. “When were these even taken?”

“When we graduated—so after you left—a few classmates got together and pooled all the photos they took from high school and made albums for everyone. They gave Aoko and me a shared album since we were all but married by that point.” He paused on a page, the Aoko in the picture blushing and clearly trying to pretend she wasn’t pleased while Kaito grinned at her, something small hidden in his hand. Takumi settled on Kaito’s other side to look too. “They even got me proposing to her.”

“Because you had to be a dork and propose in front of everyone in class,” Aoko grumbled. “It would have been more romantic somewhere else.”

“You were happy enough about it at the time,” Kaito said, sticking his tongue out at her. Aoko rolled her eyes. The next page was Aoko kissing Kaito in front of the whole class, so yes, she must have been happy. Kaito smiled at the photo. “Thank you, Aoko, really.”

Aoko sighed. “Well... If we’re starting over, I figured I might as well give you something you actually wanted this year.”

Kaito laughed. “Makes me feel a bit silly with my gift...”

“Flowers?” she asked, smiling crookedly.

“Flowers,” Kaito agreed. “Although this year...” He walked to where he’d set his gifts, pulling out the orchid he’d carefully bundled to transport it through the cold. “I thought something that lasted might be nice. Instead of cut flowers. And if it’s cared for, it’ll bloom again.” Its blossoms were a delicate, pale pink, two flower stems supported by sticks.

Aoko snorted, taking the pot with a tenderness to her smile that was rarely directed at Kaito these days. “It’s beautiful. And don’t think I missed the metaphor there; care for it and it’ll bloom again.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a metaphor,” Kaito protested, “but sure, that works too.”

At his seat on the floor, Takumi shifted, clearly getting tired of waiting. “Okay,” he said a bit too loud. “I’m really glad you’re not at each other’s throats and we can actually have a decent gift exchange this year, but can I give my gifts now?” His open presents were at his knees but he’d kept a small pile of hand-wrapped gifts at his side, waiting to pass them out.

Aoko rolled her eyes. “Have at it.”

“Here!” Takumi shoved a box toward Kaito, then a bag to Aoko and a rectangular wrapped package at Saguru. “Y’know with how much I’ve been grounded I actually had money to buy gifts this year,” Takumi said with wry humor.

“Do we open them in a particular order?” Kaito joked.

“Just open them!”

Kaito laughed and slit open the paper. Inside was a plain box, but when he opened it up it was full of small trinkets, all Kid memorabilia.

“So,” Takumi said, fiddling with the paper tree nervously, “I figured since you’ve been trying to keep it secret so long and you stopped pretending to be a Kid fan when you married Kaa-san—well, sort of stopped with being a Kid fan—” Saguru vaguely remembered that being something Kaito mentioned as a conflict before their divorce. “—you probably didn’t keep and Kid merchandise and after your farewell heist things kind of exploded for a bit with Kid stuff, so...” Takumi waved a hand at the box. “Shiemi picked the best ones she saw since I was still grounded. I just thought you might like a, er, positive reminder of it now that you retired.”

Kaito lifted a keychain and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. Aoko looked resigned, but surprisingly not upset.  Saguru had a feeling that Kaito was going to add the gifts to the collection of actual Kid items in his secret room. Kaito was slowly transitioning it into something like a museum with records of all his heists and the tricks he’d performed at them.

“Me next I guess,” Aoko said.

She pulled tiny bottles and packets out of the bag one by one until she had what amounted to a home spa kit by her feet.

“I couldn’t afford to get you an actual ticket to a spa,” Takumi said by way of explanation. “So, home spa it is. One day of your choice where you can spend it relaxing and I’ll take care of anything you need or want, okay?”

Aoko snorted, holding up what looked like a face mask. “I’ll hold you to that. I haven’t exactly spent much time relaxing the last few years.”

“All the more reason,” Takumi said. “Now you, Hakuba-sensei,” he said turning to Saguru.

Saguru opened his gift with good humor. A collection of Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes DVDs emerged from the wrapping.

“You mentioned that was your favorite adaptation of Holmes,” Takumi said, more nervous about this than he had been with the other two gifts. “I found someone selling it online and thought you might like it...”

“I do,” Saguru said, touched that Takumi had remembered something said in passing at a literature club meeting. “I haven’t watched them in years.” He’d never had the whole collection either, only a few of the films. These had been remastered and restored with all of the films Rathbone had played Holmes in. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Takumi said, beaming. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Takumi.”

“Christmas puzzle time!” Kaito announced, pulling a box seemingly out of thin air—Saguru wasn’t sure how he’d manage to hide it, but he must have grabbed it the same time he got Aoko’s gift. “Saguru, you have your tradition, but Takumi and I put a puzzle together every year.” Usually not with Aoko, Saguru guessed, as Kaito turned to her. “Can we take over your table for a while?”

Aoko shrugged. “Have at it. Though you’d better not leave me out.”

Takumi’s face lit up. He snatched the box. “Kitchen table! It has the best lighting!”

Kaito snickered as Takumi ran out of the room. “I got one without a picture on the box this year. It’s a puzzle surprise.”

“Let me guess, it’s something with complex and similar patterns, isn’t it?”

“Abstract,” Kaito confirmed. “It’s going to be an eyestrain.”

“Sounds like something we’ll all enjoy then.”

Aoko laughed at them. “Let’s see, a police inspector, an ex-detective, a man who has put half-destroyed relics back together piece by piece, and a high school student. Who has the advantage here?”

“Takumi of course,” Kaito said. “He hasn’t had half the eye strain as the rest of us.”

Aoko swatted at him cheerfully as they moved to the kitchen.

Takumi popped his head around the corner. “Oh yeah, were there any other gifts left to exchange?”

Saguru glanced at Aoko. He had something small for her, but he and Kaito had decided to forgo gifts in exchange for a trip the next time they both had time. “Just this.” He gave Aoko a small bag with a decorative scented candle.

“Thank you, Hakuba-san.” She gave him back a package of store-bought candies. Black tea flavored.

Saguru smiled. “I didn’t know that they made something like that. Thank you.”

“I’m always amazed what some stores carry.” She grinned at Takumi. “Now we can do the puzzle.”

“Perfect. I call edge pieces,” Takumi said, dumping the box on the table.

Kaito took a moment to join them and so Saguru lingered too, standing in the doorway as Aoko and Takumi bent over puzzle pieces.

“Sorry,” Kaito said, barely a whisper. “It’s just... this is the sort of thing I’ve wished would happen for years and it doesn’t quite feel real yet.”

Saguru caught him in a half hug. “Hopefully there will be many more years of this.”

“Yeah.” Kaito pecked Saguru on the lips and went to join the others at the table.

Aoko raised an eyebrow at Saguru. Saguru blushed. He still got caught off guard by a simple act of affection. Well, more affection in front of people. Thankfully, Aoko just looked amused.

“You get to look for pieces with blue on them, Hakuba-san,” Aoko said.

Saguru took a seat by Kaito and started looking for pieces to put together.

[billgavemeextrachips]

How's about 14 for Chummy and Fred?

Excellent request, @nunonabun! Ask and ye shall receive. :-)

Also, @callthemoonbeam, I am brainstorming a reply to your ask as well. I love how I reblog a list of friendship prompts and get nothing but Chummy-and-Fred requests. Truly, this is my wheelhouse. :-D

That’s Not How I Remember It

After he didn’t make the cut for grammar school, Freddiehad started helping Mr. Buckle with repairs around Nonnatus House. The oldfamily friend became more than just Freddie’s mentor in plumbing, woodworkingand gardening. The pair were soon good friends in their own right.

In June 1974, overa busted pipe, the elder Fred admitted to the younger that the upcoming AnnualBuckle-Gee-Jackson-Smart-Dooley-Foster Multi-Generational Weekend CampingExtravaganza was… not shaping up to be extravagant.

“Vi’s back can’t take a night on an RV pull-out sofa. Marlene and her crew ‘aven’t turned up since ’68, no matter‘ow many times I ask. Vi’s grandkids all say they can’t come, they got summerjobs. Betcha ‘alf of ‘em are slinkin’ off to the woods that same weekend wivfriends, smokin’ all sorts a things and listenin’ to sumfink anarchist, like…”he shrugged. 

“Like Pink Floyd,” Freddie volunteered eagerly. “OrJethro Tull, or-” 

“Righ’, yeah,” the older Fred grunted from behind hiscigar. “All vem, I reckon. Anyways, it’s jus’ me and Reggie, and your AuntieDolly and ‘er four.” He sighed. “But we’ll make a good show of it. For the youngertwo’s sakes, at least.”

“I feel bad for him,” Freddie told his family oversupper that evening. “You should hear how he talks about the trips a few yearsback. They had twenty-two people in 1968! And now it’s down to seven. It bums himout, I think. He really likes planning big, fun events for lots of people.” 

But Freddie knew of someone else with a tendencytowards grand plans. After the dishes were cleared, Dad and the other kidssettled in front of the telly. Freddie went into the dining room, and sat downacross from Mum and her trusty old Singer.

Chummy stopped the sewing machine. She could sense heroldest had something to say. She looked up, blinking as her eyes adjusted tothe other half of her thick bifocals.

“Freddie, is everything alright?”

“I thought it might be nice if we went with them,” heblurted. “The Buckles. Camping. We all get on well, and I think they’d like thecompany.”

“I rather agree,” she said.

“But the thing is, Mr. Buckle’s too proud to inviteus, and we can’t just invite ourselves…”

“Quite right,” his mother smiled. “I shall speak toMrs. Buckle. If she approves of your plan, she can nudge old Fred into it. She’llprobably have him thinking it was his idea all along!”

This is precisely what happened. Two weeks later, theypacked Fred’s RV with supplies, and the Smart and Noakes kids piled into theback of a rented van. Peter couldn’t get off work that weekend, and Dolly andher husband had separated years ago. That left four adults- Fred, Reggie,Chummy and Dolly- in charge of seven children between the ages of twelve and sixteen.

“It’ll be like Scouts all over again. Akela andBagheera, reining in the chaos,” Peter teased his wife. They drew close,holding hands, and he gave her a peck on the cheek. He would have liked to giveher a grander send-off, but they were both mindful of their adolescentaudience.

It was a two-hour drive to the campsite in Sussex. (Notcounting the half hour at the petrol station, picking out snacks and makingsure everyone had a chance to use the loo.) Fred drove the RV, with Dolly ashis “co-pilot.” If Chummy had to guess, Fred was taking their time alone to tryand assess what sort of help, both practical and financial, he could give Dollyand her children. It was a fraught ritual that occurred periodically between all caring fathers and their grown daughters. Particularly if the daughter had gottenless in life than the father thought she deserved.

The van was much livelier. Chummy drove, Reggie wasthe keeper of the radio, and behind them the children practically bounced off thewalls. The Smart children were remarkably nonchalant about Bea’s arms. PerhapsDolly had briefed them ahead of time, or they were open-minded towardsdisability because of their cousin Reggie. Either way, Bea was still putting onsome of her new-crowd bravado, trying to prove the “thalidomide girl” was notjust normal, but great fun too.

The van crept down the tree-shaded dirt roadinto the campsite. Even as they parked, Bea continued leading the others in a radio sing-along.Chummy switched off the ignition but left the radio on.

“Ah, Mater! WantJet to always love me. Ah, Mater! Much later…”

“That’s a weird name.” Jackie Smart, the youngest,wrinkled her nose. “You reckon Paul’s got a friend called Mater, or did he make it up?”

“Mater’s not a name, silly!” said her older sister,Sam. “It’s what posh people say instead of ‘Mum’!”

“That’s not true! You’re puttin’ us on!”

Fred had disembarked the RV and was approachingChummy’s open window when he overheard this. He broke into a crooked grin.

“It is true, Jackie. Why, Mrs. Noakes ‘ere ‘ad a‘Mater’, God rest her soul. I met her when Mrs. Noakes and Mr. Noakes gotmarried, I did.”

“Tell ‘em about the sandwiches, Mr. Buckle,” Freddiepiped up. “And the bridesmaids in nurses’ uniforms!”

“Bridesmaids in what?”squealed Diane, the middle Smart girl.

The four girls dissolved into their umpteenth gigglefit today. Tony Smart groaned, rolled his eyes, then shoved his way to the vandoor. Chummy’s middle son Davey followed suit. As the girls began peltingChummy with questions, her son Freddie caught her eye in the rearview mirror.He looked apologetic. So did her old friend Fred, for that matter.

Yes, there was a time when she would have been bashful-but that was many years ago. Before she’d explained Bea’s disability tocountless gawking strangers, and advocated her daughter’s needs to dozens ofdoctors. Before she’d taken Freddie’s teachers aside year after year, managingto persuade only some of them: He’s reallyquite bright. And he’s not hard of hearing- well, not exactly. He just needspeace and quiet to understand. Or if you could just write everything down…

A trip down Memory Lane would be a cakewalk comparedto that. Chummy smiled as she tuckedher salt-and-pepper hair behind her ears, got out of the van and stretched herlong legs.

“What are camping trips for, if not for old stories? Butwe must set up the pup tents first. Once that’s done and dusted, Grandpa Bucklecan tell you all about my wedding.” She grinned wickedly. “And then I’ll tell you all about Evie, GrandpaBuckle’s beloved pet pig.”

The kids cackled. Reggie beamed. “I’ll tell them aboutthe flowers in your garden!” he said.

“Ooh I’ve got one!” cried Dolly as she hopped downfrom the RV. “Do they know the story of the day Sam and Freddie were born?”

“Or how her Grandpa initially mistook poor Samanthafor a little boy?” Chummy teased.

“That’s not how I remember it!” Fred shook his head,chuckling. “I’ll go and get the tents.”

[sarahzipp]

Author’s note: This post was written in the summer of 2017. It’s taken me nearly three years to grow the courage to post it publicly.  Time heals all wounds!  I hope you enjoy.

Waving goodbye to Amsterdam, our home for 3 years.

Did you know – moving a family of four and two pets to a foreign country is hard. In fact, it’s a giant logistical nightmare. I did. I learned that lesson, I learned it so hard 3 years ago moving to the Netherlands and muddling through immigration paperwork and not having a bank account because we don’t have a BSN yet (it’s like a social security number) and we can’t paid and we can’t get a BSNt….and so on and on and on. It’s a doom loop. It’s a doom loop in Dutch. But moving abroad has become like childbirth to me, after a couple of years I forget the pain and do it again. And there’s a lot of crying.  And nobody sleeps.

But this time it would be in English, and therefore much easier, right?  We’re only moving about an hour’s flight away, how bad can it be? Besides, we’re seasoned expats, wiser and more experienced now. Step 1 – book flights. Several times a day flights buzz between Holland and Scotland. They’re cheap and plentiful. No problem! Wait, what?  We can’t fly the dog on EasyJet or any of the quick jumpers into the UK. Hmmmm. Look, a fairy! I mean, look – a ferry! They have a kennel. Perfect for a multi-species move. Yes yes yes! Let’s move by ferry. How cool and adventurous. It’d be uber Zipp-like to move to a foreign country by ferry. We shall invade Scotland by sea! Neat-o.

Our previous experience with boats in Amsterdam gave us undue confidence. What could possibly go wrong?

So, we just book the tickets, 2 cabins for us + my mom (who so graciously/foolishly agreed to come visit/help us not commit acts of homicide while we pack and move). Check. Next we book the dog into the pet hotel. Check. Great. Now just notify them we are bringing Kitty as a carry-on (like we did on the plane when we moved to A’dam). Wait, huh? Why is it not allowing us to add the cat. Try it again. What if we depart from Rotterdam? Ugh. Call them. Sprek je Engels? Huh? We can’t have the cat on board without a car? But we don’t want to keep the car. We want to sell it so we can buy a UK car with a right-side-of-the-car-steering-wheel when we get there. It’s going to be difficult enough unlearning how to drive American-like in the UK. Oh, shut the front door! Are we really going to keep an ailing French mini-van with a passenger-side window that won’t roll down and a steering wheel on the wrong side of the car for a 5lb cat? Yes. Yes, that is exactly what we are going to do. Because life. Because family expatting is a series of maddening choices and ridiculous adaptations. It’s a relentless state of absurdity. Because that’s how Zipps do. No creature left behind. Check.

Ok, transport of humans and pets secured. Now what about our stuff? Step 2 – pack up and go. This time around, in the most adulting moment of my life thus far, we hired actual professional movers to pack up our shit. Why not? My employer is paying relocation expenses. Well done, Dr. Fancy Pants. I thought we were well organised. We laughed at how much we’d accumulated in 3 years. Wasn’t it just yesterday we packed ALL of our belongings into 9 Army duffle bags and boarded the plane to Amsterdam? Yeah, we moved our entire family across the Atlantic packed into 9 bags. Nothing more. And one half of those bags was my Ph.D. fieldwork papers. (Fun tip – we precisely weighed each bag by using the scale at the vet’s office where we went approximately 743 times trying to get the appropriate Pet Passport for the dog). Now, the movers handed me the inventory list – 100 boxes. 100 boxes? WTH? No matter, it was all out of sight, out of mind for now. See you on the flipside, boxes of crap. We’re down to the bare minimum. T-minus 9 days to departure. Just a few more issues to tidy up, then it’s time to kick back, relax and enjoy our final week in the lovely city of Amsterdam (stay tuned for a post, eventually to be written, on my deep, warm and conflicted feelings about life in the ‘dam and saying goodbye to my favourite city in the world).

So, we calmly went about packing up our Dutch lives. Er, rather, we scrambled every last minute, failing to find more than a few fleeting moments of peace in our last days there. We sold stuff on a thousand different marketplaces. We patched holes and fretted over which dishes were ours and which came with the apartment, etc. because our skeevy landlord will try to cheat us (separating expats from their security deposits is a hobby of Dutch landlords). I remember the feeling 3 years ago, whilst scrambling to pack up our American lives. Just get to the airport. Once we get checked in at the airport, we can relax. Breath. Panic. Breath. Repeat. 

Delierious with joy over are good choices, smart planning and simple lifestyle. Also pictured: cat that almost ruined everything, twice.

We tried, desperately, to capture the final bike rides and boat rides on camera. Fleeting moments of exquisite presence. We tried to celebrate, laugh, hug, cry and properly say goodbye to our family of expats. We tried to make space for our girls to spend those final, fleeting days with their buddies. Good god, we have been through some shit with these people over the past 3 years. Expat friendships, for big and little ones, are bonded in a crucible. Never forget this place. This stuff has been magical. Breath. Have presence. Enjoy? Pack, organise, DO SOMETHING. Did you cancel the internet service? Pay the parking ticket? How do we forward the mail? Notify the Belastingdienst? Sprek je Engels? 

And that’s when we noticed the cat was missing. Yes, the cat. The cat that caused us to keep the car. The car that caused us to pay a shit ton more for the ferry. The ferry that will take us to Scotland. The Scotland that will distill the whisky. The whisky that will taste so good when we drink it.  But I digress . . . the next few hours were a furious chaos of packing and loading and searching for the fecking cat. The children are weeping for the cat. My mom is organizing a search party while I cooly ignore this tangent of madness, because I am confident the cat is simply hiding. “The cat is missing, mom. Start acting like it!” my sweet youngest daughter screams at me and slams the door. I ignore her and discreetly throw out bags of forgotten little toy scraps that no one will remember so long as they aren’t seen during the throwing out process. Hours later, the cat is found hiding under a bed. I smugly chastise my panicked family. They fail to thank me for my calm resolve.

In spite all of our diligent #adulting, expensive movers and good intentions, here we are, literally running from the apartment with armloads of shit dumped out from random drawers whilst the landlord arrived from the other side of the building for our final check out.

It was like a scene from a Benny Hill movie, I’m sure. Cut to scene – exterior of building, black and white at 1.5 speed: Zipp parents frantically scrambling and stumbling out the front door, arms laden with useless plastic items, while the Landlord calmly strolls in the back door, clipboard and magnifying glass in hand. Cut to shot of kids, pets and granny in the car screaming, crying and flailing wildly.  Cut to Aaron opening driver door, pointing forward confidently and saying: Onward march – take to the seas! (in the captions). Can you hear the music?

People overuse the term, “stuffed in like a can of sardines.”  This is not one of those times.  We stuffed said crap into every nook and cranny of our van. So, there we were; 4 Zipps, my mom, our old dog with bad gas and a cat.  Everyone but the driver had items crammed under and around her feet as well as on her lap/between her body and the door or other passenger. I am not exaggerating. It felt difficult to breath in there. When we finally pulled up to the ferry door, I yelled at my children – “act natural, pretend like you have plenty of room! And for God’s sake, don’t mention the head lice!” I thought we might be over the weight limit or something. I knew we were technically one centimeter over the height limit, although I was sure the massive weight load was compressing us down at least that much.

We love our pets, Nana is losing her mind!

Jonah (the dog) smells funny

Pipsqueak the Mighty

  Maybe if the kids just smile at the check in guy they’ll let us go without any questions. I really don’t know, the whole thing was so sketchy because we weren’t sure if our car was too tall with the roof carrier on top and we were still recovering from some confusion regarding the pets on board (Fun Fact – Our 70lb geriatric labrador was perched up on a stack of luggage in the back of the van so high he could not get out on his own accord. So while we were waiting in line for the ferry (for hours) I had to unload and load him in “gently” whilst containing the stack of threatening-to-spill-out luggage with one knee. It was a long line. He had to get checked in too. My “gentle” level decreased with each outing). For once the gods smiled upon us and no one asked questions. We rolled in and were literally the last car on our platform. After a brief game of where-the-hell-is-the-cat-that-required-us-to-bring-a-wrong-side-of-the-road-driving-car-to-the-UK?, we deboarded the van and checked into our cabins.

My mom has never in 12 years of grandmothering ever chosen to not spend more time with her grandkids. But that night, with her head bent in (what I think was a bit of shame or guilt) she asked if she could have the key to a cabin and stay alone. Without her grandbabies. Yes mom, save yourself.  We broke the Na-na. My mom has never before or since rejected a moment’s time with her dear little grandchildren. I rejected the urge to jump overboard.

Ferry of Doom or Ferry of Freedom?

But we made it. We were on the ferry. Breathe. Deep sigh of relief. Enjoy the ride. It was fun and adventurous to travel by ferry. I highly recommend it. 15+ hours later, with minimal sleep and a deep sense of relief mixed with sadness, we calmly exited the ferry. Just a wee three hour drive to our new home.  Left, left, left. Remember to drive on the left, honey. We inched forward in an endless procession of vehicles exiting the ferry.  Last in, last out. 

That’s when Aaron turned to me, panicked face – “oh shit, we’re out of gas!”  In the mayhem getting to the ferry, we forgot to fill up. OMG. We cannot run out of gas on a ferry or in the border patrol line.  No exaggeration at all, we were on E. It gets worse.  When we finally got off the ferry, there was a line of cars snaking its way to the border gate. We would never make it. This was a trail of tears, eeking forward a car’s length every 5 minutes. It was a minimum hour wait and we had a maximum 15 minutes of fuel. 

One last time, I un-gently unpacked the dog from the back of the van to walk him.  A border agent passed and I tearfully pleaded our case.  “Well, we don’t need a broken down vehicle holding up this line.” He was so kind, really un-Dutch in his kindness and willingness to help. Within minutes, we were ushered around the line to front.  We pulled up to the border entrance window. Wait, oops. The driver is on the wrong side. Ha ha ha! I was in the passenger seat. Let me just roll down the window to hand you the passports…oh, yeah. The window-roller-downer is broken. Ha ha ha. Aaron, if you just pull up a tad, I can open the door. Oops, sorry everyone in line behind us! Here ya go, border patrol lady.  I stepped out and handed the agent our clutch of passports. “Your Visas haven’t yet been processed, so you’ll need to re-enter another time.”  Wait, what now?  We can’t come in?  We chatted. We worked it out. Kindness and understanding from her and her colleagues that I cannot understate. Sorted, as the Scottish say.  She let us through, although I’m not sure we entered 100% legally. 

Bumbling and fumbling, we crossed the finish line to begin again.  Stay left, keep the rubber side down and journey onward. Love, trust and (Gaelic) pixiedust. 

Welcome to the United Kingdom. Mixed emotions.

  Zipps invade Scotland by sea Author's note: This post was written in the summer of 2017. It's taken me nearly three years to grow the courage to post it publicly. 

[kimtaehyungrykim]

Doctor I Need You: Prolouge

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / to be determined

*Please note that I am not a doctor of any kind.*

*I also apologize for any kind of typos*

Synopsis: It’s your second year being the Head Cardiothoracic surgeon at Serenity Hospital and you’re luck this year sucked. The rivalry between Heartstone Medical Center and Serenity Hospital has been going on for decades. Now they’ve decided to combine the 2 hospitals together making Heartstone Serenity Hospital. Even with the merger the doctors despise each other, they don’t want to work with the other side. When one day a train accident happens, the ER overflows with patients, you have no choice but to work with the attending Trauma surgeon of Heartstone, Dr. Lee Taeyong.

Rating: M

Genre: fluff, smut, angst, idk the whole series covers the whole lot of genres

Characters (and their roles) : can you sense my multi-fandom?

Serenity Hospital

You (Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery)

Dr. Kim Jisoo (Head of General Surgery)

Dr. Kim Seokjin (Jin) (Attending Anesthesiologist)

Park Jinyoung (Nurse)

Sohn Shownu (Scrub Nurse)

Dr. Jeon Wonwoo (5th year Surgical Resident)

Heartstone Medical Center

Dr. Lee Taeyong (Head of Trauma Surgery)

Dr. Nakamoto Yuta (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Kim Taeyeon (Attending Neurosurgeon)

Bae Irene (Scrub Nurse)

Dr. Kim Xiumin (Head of Pediatric surgery)

Dr. Park Leeteuk (Chief of Surgery)

Song(s) to play while reading:

I’m Fine Thank You - Ladies Code

Exodus - Exo

Today was another slow day at Serenity Hospital. It was lunchtime, you sat with your fellow doctors. Not one peep came out of your mouths because none of you knew what to say. Tomorrow, Serenity Hospital and Heartstone Medical Center will merge together to become Heartstone Serenity Hospital. The rivalry between Heartstone and Serenity has been going on for about 8 decades now.

The idea of even being in the same operating room of the doctors of Heartstone makes you gag. But the worst, at least half of the doctors and nurses will be fired to make room for the merger. Today is the day where you find out if you’ll stay in or be cut off.

Dr. Wonwoo broke the silence, “How many residents do you think they’ll keep?”

“Stop worrying Wonwoo, you’ll be fine,” Jisoo assured.

Just then, Jinyoung came running to table. He took a moment to catch his breath, “I heard that most of the attending surgeons will stay but they’re firing half of the nurses and residents.”

“Fuck…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath.

“Who’s dumbass idea was it to merge the 2 hospitals who hate each other together?” Jin asked, “I refuse to work with those hotshots.”

“Agreed.” We all said in unison.

We began eating in silent, feeling uneasy about who might be staying and who might leave.

Sohn Shownu came running in the cafeteria out of breath, “They posted the list! They posted the list!”

Every doctor and nurse ran out of the cafeteria to the medical board looking at the list of doctors and nurses that were staying. Running as fast as you can, you reached the medical board first and scanned the list for your name. The list couldn’t have more than 25 names, after scanning through 10 names, you sighed of relief after seeing ‘Dr. y/l/n y/n - Cardiothoracics’.

You’re relief didn’t last long when all the other doctors and nurses rammed into you trying to find their names as well.

After a couple of minutes every doctor and nurse has seen the list. There were tears of joy and sadness everywhere. You started looking for your friends. You found Jin and Jisoo right away after the sight of both of them awkwardly dancing and celebrating they were on the list. Jinyoung and Shownu were found embracing each other. God these kids are so weird.

Strolling down the hallway you finally found Wonwoo, crying.

“I thought I saw your name on the list,” You were confused.

“I saw my name but it’s strange,” Wonwoo sniffled in confusement, “I don’t understand why so many exceptional residents were cut off and I, an average 5th year resident made it. Somehow I feel as if I don’t deserve it.”

“Dr. Jeon Wonwoo, don’t you ever say that about yourself again. The world is going to knock you around plenty. You don’t need to be doing it to yourself,” You scolded him.

~~~~~~~~ The Next Day ~~~~~~~~~

Your pager woke you up in after getting 2 hours of sleep in the on call room. Today’s the day the merger’s finally happening. As you got out of bed, you took a look at the page you got, Jisoo paged you to come to the front of the hospital.

When you got there, the sight made you almost vomit. Construction workers were adding “Heartstone” to the hospital sign.

“Oh god, I’m gonna puke,” You gagged.

Jinyoung grabbed your shoulders, “It doesn’t stop here,” he turns you around to the sight of Hearstone doctors and nurses.

“I have to perform surgery with these asses?” You were livid.

“Also did you see the new Chief of surgery?” Jisoo asked, “the true definition of Mr. Pretentious”

“It also seems I have another competitor for Chief Resident too, someone named Nakamoto Yuta?” Wonwoo scoffed.

“I heard there’s another scrub nurse as well. I liked it when I was the favorite scrub nurse.” Shownu pouted.

Dr. Kim Seokjin came up to us, “What the hell are you guys doing? Yes those Heartstone doctors think they own this place but we have patients to serve. If you guys think you’re better doctors than them, then go and treat your patients.”

We all left and went to the ward. Jin is a person we all pick on because he’s so useless, but he sure is a damn good doctor.

Walking into the ER you decided to treat a little girl named Haru. You always liked treating kids.

You greeted her parent, “Hello guys I’m Dr. y/l/n y/n. So what does your child need today?”

“Oh we told that doctor over there already, she’s been having these pains on her back,” Her mother informed you.

“You already told a doctor?” You asked.

“Yeah that’s me,” it was a man’s voice, not one you recognized which could only mean one thing. You turned around to see a doctor from Heartstone. “Your daughter is just experiencing some growing pains, perfectly normal at her age”

“Thank you doctor,” Haru’s father shook the doctor’s hand. You scoffed at the doctor, he looked at you and just scoffed back, you went to find another patient.

Both of you seem to be in a race seeing who can treat more patients. Every time you treated a patient you walked passed him and you both glared into each other’s eyes. Every time he treated a patient he walked past you and very discreetly coughed the number of patients he treated. What an asshole.

After a couple of hours the ER was near empty and the remaining patients were in the process of being treated.

You both were on opposite sides of the room, he glared at you. You could feel the hatred in his eyes, of course none of the Heartstone doctors wanted this merger too. He started walking towards you, when he reached you he went and stood by your side. Both of you stood there in silence with this indescribable tension between you.

He was the first to talk, “So doctor, how many did you get to treat today?”

“10” You hesitantly responded.

The doctor turned his body and came closer to you, too close. You turned around as well and found yourselves in a staring contest, you wanted to scold yourself for thinking that this doctor was so good looking. He then proceed to show a cocky smirk before his mouth came towards your ear.

He whispered, “12. Sorry doctor, I guess you just weren’t fast enough.” You lightly pushed him away.

“Are all Heartstone doctors douchebags like you?’ You cocked a smirk back at him.

“You shouldn’t call me names doctor,” The man looks down at your nametag, “y/n, we might work together soon.”

“I’d rather set myself on fire doctor,” You looked at his name tag, “Taeyong”

Before he could fire back with some sarcastic comment, the ER doors opened with force. Paramedics were rushing in with injured people.

“There was a train crash, multiple casualties and injuries.” One of the paramedics informed you. Doctors came rushing into the ER claiming a person to treat.

Dr. Lee Taeyong seems to be giving orders to the doctors, he’s probably a trauma surgeon. Each doctor seems to be getting into pairs for 1 patient. The Heartstone doctors and Serenity doctors still keeping clear of each other. You looked around and found a patient you were kind of eager to treat, an object through her chest. You ran to the bed and claimed the patient, at the same time you saw him grab it too. Shit. Lee Taeyong grabbed this patient too.

Both of you stared at each other again, waiting for the other person to let go and find another patient until the woman started flatlining. You didn’t care anymore, even though you so desperately don’t want to work with Heartstone doctors, especially this one, you are still a doctor, an exceptional one at that. Taeyong probably had the same thought, you both started wheeling the woman to OR room 3.

[shazyloren]

The Dragon Club: Chapter 15: Life and Death

Summary:  Jon Snow is an online blogger who gets an interview with the sort after Daenerys Targaryen, the Editor of Valyrian, a multi-million dollar fashion magazine. He’d heard so much about the silver-haired and silver-tongued woman and the running of her business; he would have to be smart to get anything more than five minutes. Will he be safe walking into the Dragon’s lair or will he get thrown to the Lions?

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12018519/chapters/27571629

-----

Jon arrived at the hospital with his mind racing.Talisa was still not dilated enough to go to the Delivery room so they were sat in the waiting room counting down until it was time. It meant he had time in his head to think over what happened. Did they kiss? No they hadn't, but they nearly had. He'd wanted to; and she may have done also. He was unsure of her feelings on that part.

Curse you, Daenerys Targaryen, he thought bitterly as his head became fuzzy. Why had she affected him in such a manner? Her violet eyes were in his mind; bright and glistening as they danced like flames while they looked at him. He lips were plump and uttering things to him; things he wished he could hear them say in real time. But for all the panic that had set inside him and the longing which growled like a wolf chasing a lamb; he was shocked more than anything.

Shocked that he'd allowed himself to not keep his feelings in check. He should've never gone to that party; should never gone to the interview. He was in over his head with a woman who he found to be selfish and sometimes desperate to hold control. He knew there was more to her than that; he knew she was compassionate when it suited and that she was full of grit and determination. But she was not his type; he liked wild, free spirited women. And she was controlled and uptight. So why was he feeling this way about her? Why was he playing everything over in his mind?

"How was your dinner?" Arya mumbled as she tried to get comfy on one of the chairs as they waited. She was tired; they'd been there nearly three hours now and Arya didn't like doing nothing. But there it was; the loaded question Jon had still been trying to figure out for himself. How had the dinner gone?"

He's made wrong impressions by winding Daenerys' keys to the point she broke and divulged the information on Doreah. He'd grumbled his way through dinner after being badgered about his family life; Daenerys had got one back on him for that. He'd subtly flirted with her and was taken on a tour in which they flirted some more. He'd eaten good food and joined in with good conversation. It was an eventful evening but still marred by the strange ending in the corridor. The part he kept playing over and over in his mind. She'd been right there, her lips had been puckered and Jon didn't kiss them, he didn't give them what they wanted, or what he believed they wanted.

What could he even say to Arya? He couldn't say much of the dinner without giving his true feelings away, could he? "It was... interesting"

"Interesting... Is that it?" She raised and eyebrow. Shit, Jon muttered, why does she read me so well?

"Er... yes, why?" Jon said coolly, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"You look like a frightened rabbit" Arya chuckled. Jon could feel his face heat up; was he blushing? No, Jon Snow didn't blush! He brooded and tried to look as mysterious as possible. Arya's eyes went wide as they surveyed him. What was happening to him? Why was he acting like a school boy seeing his first crush in the playground? "did something happen?"

"No, it was just... odd" Jon tried to keep collected. Arya squinted as she didn't quite believe him. "The company that she keeps; her friends, all employees"

"You mean she has no friends outside of work?" Arya was playing along and Jon was grateful, there was no need for her to know everything that happened, especially the hallway part. "That's sucky"

"What's sucky?" Gendry had come back and was holding some brown paper bags. He'd gone to the local store and gotten everyone sandwiches and drinks to eat; no one wanted hospital food. "Here"

"Thanks, Gendry" Jon muttered as he opened to see and egg and cress sandwich with a banana and some crisps inside. There was a bottle of water too. "Just talking about the dinner this evening"

"I was wondering why you were dressed so formal" Gendry sat down next to Arya who chowed down her Ham and Tomato sandwich. She was obviously hungry and Jon dare thought they'd be here a little while longer. "So it wasn't the best then?"

"Oh no the dinner was fine" Jon sunk into his chair to get comfy. "Just... she doesn't have any friends that doesn't work for her, it was a little strange. They were nice people, very nice, but there was just something so formal about it. When we all hang out, us three, Sam, Hotpie and Lommy... It's always informal; we go out and get drunk; we go out for dinner or we slob in our clothes and watch movies until 3am. They have a formal dinner once a week and that's... it"

"She's a busy woman; she works 14 hours a day Sansa told me" Arya shrugged. Jon wondered what she was thinking, if she suspected Jon's feelings, his inner thoughts. "Just like you Jon. When did you last see Sam?"

"He's not in the country, Arya" Gendry laughed. "Dumb Ass"

"Don't call me a Dumb Ass, Mr. I don't know how to cook eggs properly" Jon rolled his eyes. Knowing they'd now be bickering for ten minutes or so he decided to eat the Sandwich Gendry had provided. He was still relatively full from the dinner he'd had five hours ago so he knew he wouldn't eat much of it. But it was necessary to ignore them and go back to the thoughts in his mind.

I've seen your limit pushed many times; it's fun. Maybe one day I could push your limits in a different way

Why did he say that? Why had he shamelessly flirted in such a bold way, it had just complicated everything and now as he sat on a small hospital chair waiting for news on his niece or nephew, it was all he thought about. I'd like that, she'd said back. Why she being serious? was she teasing? or was she playing him; making him fall for her charms and didn't actually feel that way.

No, she did feel something, he knew so. She'd gasped when their hands had slightly touched in the Guest room. She'd felt the Jolt and Zap of the electricity running through their hands when they brushed together. In the hallway he'd felt it; that's why they'd nearly kissed. KISSED. He had nearly kissed Daenerys Targaryen and he was certain she wanted it too. But she'd stopped herself; she'd tried to regain control and made Jon look like the simpering fool.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a doctors arrival. He jolted his father awake who'd fallen asleep and eventually everyone woke up. Robb had stayed with Talisa up until now. Everyone gathered and listened to the Doctor, Jon was having to push Dany back and it was hard to focus. The Doctor spoke. "She'd fully dilated; we're going to move her to the delivery room"

Everyone sighed and they all became excited. It would be an hour tops now and people were so happy to finally meet the baby. They all sat back down again as the Doctor disappeared and left them to their thoughts. Meera spoke first "It's so exciting the miracle of life"

"We're not having a baby" Bran said getting nervous sweats.

"Don't be an idiot" Meera rolled her eyes. "We will once you're a psychology professor and I'm performing experiments on the human condition in like 5 years or so"

"S-sure" Bran had a look of terror on his face; only Jon found it funny. "Brother dear, last chance to back out of the bet. $50 is a lot of money to lose"

"No, it's going to be a boy" Rickon said defiantly. "I don't have $50 on me though"

"Since when do you ever have pocket money that amounts to $50?" Sansa asked incredulously.

"One of the old ladies I deliver a newspaper too tipped me $200 for always doing a good job!" Rickon exclaimed. "I've been saving my money, $50 is nothing to me"

"Perhaps you can pay my bills then, Rickon" Gendry laughed. Rickon just scowled. Everyone quietened down then, the hospital TV could only be heard as it had the news channel on. Jon was suppressing the urge to think about Daenerys; it was hard but he was trying to think of other things. He got his phone out and started to scroll through his facebook when suddenly he had a notification from twitter.

'@thedragonclub has mentioned you in a tweet'

Jon's eyes widened. He opened the tweet and stared as he read it. 'Another successful dinner evening, thanks to @TheWolfOnline for giving a second change. #I'mNotAHotHeadAllTheTime'. Jon's mind swarmed with thoughts of Daenerys. Why had she wrote this? Had she done this off her own back or had perhaps Tyrion encouraged her to do so? Had she wanted to use this as a way to make him come to her dinner again? Jon didn't know. "Oh drat"

"What is it?" Sansa asked sleepily as she leant on her father's shoulder.

"Daenerys has tweeted me again" He mumbled. Arya and Sansa shot up in excitement.

"OOOH! WHAT DID SHE SAY?" Sansa clapped a little too loudly. Catelyn glared at her until she sank back into her chair. "Never mind I'll look myself"

"Jon... She likes you, I'm sorry but she enjoyed your company this evening!" Jon knew this, but coming from his sisters there seemed an air of disbelief to it. "People need to stop using Hashtags it's really annoying"

"You're annoying" Gendry grumbled. Arya just kicked him. "But I agree; she does seem interested in you. She's probably trying to rub you up the right way so you don't make anymore horrible articles on you"

"We're way past that now, Gendry" Sansa said. "She could've come out and publically apologised for her behaviour and the nail would've been put into that coffin. But they keep running into each other and she invited him to dinner; that's not behaviour of someone who just wants a resolved conflict"

Jon retweeted it but before he could reply, their chatter was interrupted abruptly.

"IT'S A GIRL! IT'S A GIRL!" Robb came running out with such excitement and enthusiasm a nurse who was writing some paperwork nearly fell off her chair. The other's in the waiting room clapped in excitement as the Starks too cheered. Robb's curly mop was stuck to his face with sweat. Jon noticed a bruise on his hand. Talisa must've punched him once or twice; nothing's changed then.

"Dang it!" Rickon moaned. Bran just smirked at him.

"What can I say brother I have a sixth sense about this stuff!" Bran gloated.

"Or you just got lucky" Rickon grumbled. "Congrats Robb!"

"Thank you, thank you!" He was exuberant. "I think we're going to call her Lyanna, in honour of Auntie Lee-Lee"

Eddard teared up and hugged his son; it would still be a while before they could see the baby; they needed recovery before any visitors were allowed. Arya spoke excitedly as she jumped up and down. "Get ready to be inundated with tweets from me posing her in sunglasses and hats!"

"Seven hells it's started already!" Gendry moaned.

"I've already tweeted congrats!" Meera was jumping in sync with Arya. Jon decided to get his phone out and tweet. 'Welcome to the world, Lyanna Stark, I can't wait to see you! #ProudUncle' He added the hashtag just to annoy Arya.

It was a blur, the rest of the evening but it was capped off by one final notification. '@thedragonclub replied to your tweet: 'Congratulations, pass on our regards from us here at the Dragon Club'. Jon blinked. He did not know what was happening, but before he knew it he was replying. '@thewolfonline: Thank you, but please, stop calling the dinner that. It really isn't a good name!'

Ding.

'@thedragonclub: It's the best name, sweet dreams Number One fan. X'

He thought on it.

'@thewolfonline: Goodnight, Hotheaded Editor-in-chief ;)'

Oh man what would the paper's say.

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 60

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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“Oi’ve nae talked wit’ ‘im about t’ose times.  Master Selked told m’ some, an’ the log provided t’e rest.  Oi ‘ad little t’ do for over a Wotan as Oi wa’ recuperating.  Oi had t’ practice readin’ yer writin’, so Oi read t’e log an’ ot’er books t’at ‘e’d collected.”

Kurin plied her chopsticks in silence for a bit, digesting this history behind things that had always been an unquestioned part of her life. Skye cocked her head and looked at Kurin’s platter questioningly. Kurin held out some roast on her chopsticks and Skye took it neatly.

Kurin looked across the table at Tanlin.  “Barad collects books?” she asked incredulously.

“Aye, ‘e reads bot’ Common an’ Arrakan an’ can struggle t’rough Barant.  ‘E ‘as books in all t’ree languages.  Nine o’ t’em are about t’e Boren Current Wars.”  She paused thoughtfully, “Actually, ten, i’ ye count Sula’s little manual.”

Kurin interrupted in surprise, “Sula wrote a book?  She never said anything about it.  Come to think, Darkistry mentioned it, too.”

Seriously, Tanlin replied, “Oi know wye Sula stayed quiet about ‘t.  Oi’ve read ‘t.  Darkistry’s probably t’e only one o’ us ‘oo actually understands it.  Oi’d recommend t’at ye nae read ‘t, t’ough Oi willnae stop ye.”  She paused and looked sympathetically at Kurin.  “T’will show ye a side o’ Sula t’at ye willnae care for.  Sula’s killed more people an’ sunk more ships t’an any ot’er person on Sea.  ‘Er book’s a manual for t’e destruction o’ ships an’ fleets.

“Wit’out t’e knowledge in t’at book, we’d probably ‘ave sunk t’e Fauline.  Wen Barad an’ Oi were in danger, t’e crew attacked wit’out ‘esitation.  None o’ t’em wa’ ‘appy about ‘t but t’ey did ‘t anyway.”

Kurin realized that what she was hearing was not a boast.  She already knew about her friend Sula’s war record — and how Sula felt about it. She digested the knowledge in silence.

The quiet stretched out into tension.  At the last, Tanlin asked, “Wen’re ye goin’ t’ actually start reading?  So far, ye’ve just leafed t’rough about eight Wohan’s wort’ o’ Log.”

Relieved to have something neutral to talk about, Kurin replied, “I have been reading, a bit slower than usual, actually.  I didn’t want to miss anything.  Barad has a fairly neat hand that’s usually easy to read.  

“How come he gets so little from each indenture sale?  Less than half, on average.”

Tanlin smiled in relief.  “Oi’m glad t’at ye asked t’e quest’n in t’at way.  A person ‘oo brokers indenture sales is entitled t’ nae more t’an ‘is legally defined costs plus ten percent o’ t’e balance o’ t’e sale.

“Indenture’s ‘ow t’e Arrakan fleet’s education system works.  I’ Oi wonted t’ learn, say, boat buildin’, Oi’d sell ye m’ indenture. Basically, ye’d pay m’ in advance for t’e term o’ t’e indenture.  Oi’d work for ye an’ ye’d teach m’ t’ make boats.  Tis a twa way contract.  T’e more I know goin’ in, t’e more m’ indenture’s wort’ t’ ye.  Oi might sell m’ indenture at auction or Oi might approach a particular person or ship.”

“T’e Grandalor produced indentures ‘oo could all read, write an’ figure plus ‘avin’ a good foundation in a useful skill.  T’e Arrakan fleet ships bid ‘igh prices for Grandalor indentures because t’ey were o’ t’e ‘ighest quality,” Tanlin finished proudly.

“So. . .the indenture is just a prepaid labor and education contract?” Kurin asked dubiously.

“Aye. Oi sold m’ ane indenture six times t’ earn m’ navigation an’ command skills.  Oi earned enow from t’ose sales t’ buy a share in t’e Princamorn, t’e ship t’at Oi wa’ born on.  Oi wa’ in a position t’ bid for a ca’taincy wen ane came open.  I remember evert’in’ o’ t’e Arrakan fleet but t’e people.

“M’ diary wa’ among documents t’at were salvaged from t’e wreck. Barad saved ‘t for m’ an’ Oi’ve read ‘t over an’ over but ‘t only told m’ some names.  T’ey’re only words in a book. M’ people’re still missing.”  Tanlin looked a little downcast as she added, “Mecat says t’at t’ey’re gone forever.”

Kurin finished eating and went back to reading the log.  Skye left the cabin the same way that she had come, pausing to close the port behind her.  Before the sun had reached its nadir, Kurin had nearly finished the just over twenty-five Gatherings of Barad’s Captaincy. Using a candle lantern to add to the ghostly light of the low sun, she finished the log and began the Purser’s accounts.

What Kurin learned there amazed her.  The Grandalor was a wealthy ship.  A very wealthy ship indeed.  Most of her wealth was held in accounts in the Arrakan fleet with large amounts on deposit in the Pallant and Daroff fleets.  Less than a third of her wealth was aboard or on deposit with the Naral fleet.

Kurin fell asleep to the quiet, uncanny whistling song of a faraway Orca that had never stopped singing, all day.

Kurin awoke suddenly in the middle of the third Night Watch.  The low arctic sun was coming fairly brightly through the port.  She had fallen asleep while reading and was surrounded by an untidy nest of log books, accounts, a few diaries and other records.

It took a moment to pin down what had awakened her.  The Orca song had become loud and clear.  It was punctuated by the shushing splash of the whale breaching and rolling and the occasional splashing report of the multi-ton creature leaping and falling back to the sea. Kurin’s heart leaped in fear for those in the sickbay.

Kurin could see the quiet form of Captain Tanlin sleeping slumped in a stuffed chair.  She felt a slight twinge of guilt at having fallen asleep in the Captain’s bunk as she slid silently out of bed.  She stumbled over the sleeping form of Arnat, curled up on the floor beside the bunk.  The commotion brought Tanlin to instant alertness. Arnat stretched.

“What’s the matter, Kurin?” he yawned.

“I hope, nothing.  Perhaps much.  The Orca is singing close by.”

“Mother!” Arnat called, heading immediately for the cabin door.

Tanlin was through it before he could get there.  Kurin followed him through the passageways of the Grandalor to the sickbay as swiftly as she could.

Doctor Corin looked up from where he was working on Lenai.  “I was about to send for you, Captain, and Arnat, too.  We are losing her.  I have killed her pain with Hag venom, so that she can talk.  She is weak but lucid.

“I thought that she should have those that she cared about near to her at the end.”

“Well t’ought o’, Doctor Corin,” Tanlin responded and turned to the doctor’s aide.  “Mikka, go get Barad, quickly.  ‘E should be ‘ere, too.”

The soft, concerned voice of Lenai came clearly to them all, “Did we do it?  Did Kurin come with us?”

Kurin stepped to the bedside, where Lenai could see her.  “I came, Lenai. I am here because of you.”

A hand reached out from under the covers and grasped Kurin’s arm weakly.  “Then it wasn’t a waste.  When the big red haired man stabbed me I feared that my life was lost to no use.  Save Arnat. See that he’s got a ship to call home, please?”

“I think that this ship will stay his home.  I’ve been looking at your case and have agreed to be your advocate before the fleet.”

Lenai smiled.  “I just wish that Arnat was here.  I want to hold him one more time before I go to Iren’s halls.”

“He is here.  Arnat, come over where you mother can see you.”

Arnat came, dry eyed but shaking, to his mother’s bedside.  She reached out and took hold of his arm with one hand and wrapped the other about him.  “Arnat, never fear the Orca’s song.  I can hear it calling me to Iren’s halls.  I won’t hurt there, and I will always love you.”

She relaxed, letting out a long breath.  Her arms fell from him and hung limp.

Barad, who had come in only moments before, knelt at her bedside and crossed her arms over her chest.  Tanlin joined him.

Barad said softly, “While there is a Grandalor, Arnat will have a ship that is his home.  I have no children of my body but I will have Arnat as my own.  He was one of the first to swear to us and the oath that we gave binds us.  We have all chosen one name and to be of one blood.”

Tanlin said, “T’ere’re nae orphans in a Wide Wing rookery because all take care o’ t’e young toget’er.  So we’ll care for Arnat. T’ere’ll be nae orphans on t’e Grandalor.  Oi’ll  log t’e order.”

Outside, the whale still sang but even to the untrained human ear, they could hear that it was a different song.  A second voice and a third joined in.  In moments whales were leaping and singing all about the ship.

In a corner of the sickbay, sitting on a bunk, Kurin was weeping. Another one dead.  Another part of her life shattered.  

The simple pride that she’d always had, that held her together when loneliness or fear of loss rose up, was in ruins in her heart. Longin born.  So simple.  So strong.  So ruined by the events of the last few days.  

Kurin wept for the young mother she’d tried to save.  Dead for the crime of wanting to talk to her.  Killed by the Longin.  Kurin’s ship. Her home.  A part of herself.  Through tears Kurin saw Arnat being rocked in Tanlin’s arms and wished desperately that she was him. Safe.  Held.  Loved.

TO BE CONTINUED

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