#comes and sits at our table. one of my coworkers (from out ward) is working with the other ward today

[ncssian]

A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

[apricotluvr]

I’m straight up not having a good time at my internship

[ellgrimm]

Sweets (OHSHC bakery AU)

He lightly dusted the rectangle of dough with fine, white flour and ran it through the sheeter one last time. Mori peeled the slightly bouncy dough off the machine bed and placed it on a tray lined with a piece of plastic film. Wrapping the film snuggly around the croissant dough, he smoothed out the indents impressed by his fingertips. He scooped the tray off the maple wood table and spun around gracefully, with habitual movement, to slip it into the fridge along with the other identical trays of dough.

With that done, he slid out of the floury work apron and traded it for a fresh one he kept tidy for sales at the front register. He washed his hands and checked for any errant streaks of flour on his face. Satisfied, Mori walked out from the fairly austere kitchen and into the world of rich woods and shining glass cases that was the customer-service side of the French patisserie shop and cafe.

Haruhi was in the middle of preparing a cup of drip coffee for a patron. Another customer just arrived at the pastry counter and stood politely, waiting to place his order. “Why don’t you see to our guest, Mori?” she asked cheerfully, as she held a gooseneck kettle and slowly circled hot water over the fresh coffee grounds, keeping an eye on the weight of water being poured. A rich, gold-black coffee dripped out the bottom of the cone filter into a ribbed glass pitcher.

Mori turned to face the pastry case and reflexively picked up a set of tongs. He performed a test click: *click*. Then he looked out over the top of the case and said in a deep and calm voice a phrase he had said at least 500 times before: “Good afternoon, what would you like today?”

But there wasn’t anyone there?

He scanned left and right.

Then he directed his gaze down and his heart skipped. A pair of enormous, caramel eyes were looking up at him from underneath a glorious mop of flaxen hair. The boy spoke, blushing a bit, in a voice that rang out clear and light, “Good afternoon! I would like one tartelettes aux fraises, please.” His French was pretty good, or at least it sounded good, Mori thought. “For here,” the boy added.

“Of course,” Mori replied, as he carefully lifted the mini tart off the ceramic tray. A glazed strawberry, sliced and fanned out over piped pastry cream, sat like a glistening red jewel. He placed it on a round plate and brought it over to the register counter. “Anything else today?” Mori asked.

“Can I… get a caffe mocha?” the charming and petite lad said reluctantly after reading through the coffee menu.

Mori caught the hesitation. “Yes, sir. How many shots of espresso?” he asked attentively.

The caramel eyes wibbled a little, damply, and he burst out suddenly “um? No shots? Please?”

Mori was relieved. Now he understood what the problem was: the menu did not list “hot chocolate.” He made a mental note that he should suggest a menu update to the manager. Making cute boys cry was already not his preference; and this boy in particular deserved the world, he immediately and definitively decided.

Mori nodded and completed the cash part of the transaction. “I will bring your strawberry mini tart and no-shots ‘caffe mocha’ to you in a minute, sir. There is a table with a nice view by that window, if you like.” He gestured to a small, round table that offered a glimpse across the street of a park with a duck pond. A coveted sight in urban Tokyo.

The boy smiled and practically floated over to the promised seat. He caught sight of a mama with her raft of ducklings zooming past and gasped with delight. Mori had to work incredibly hard to suppress a grin. It was everything he had hoped for.

Haruhi noticed. She noticed a lot of things, to be clear. Here, she was shocked and intrigued that Mori had said the longest continuous string of words than she had heard at any point over the past two years since he had started working here.

To be honest, she had been surprised when Kyoya had hired him on, considering how much talking is often involved in customer service. Kyoya, in an uncommonly forthcoming reveal into the inner workings of his mind, succinctly told Haruhi once that “diversity is a strength.”And that meant, in stark contrast to longtime coworker Tamaki’s effervescent and somewhat scattered personality, a staunchly grounded giant who is almost religious in keeping up on the daily labors of a bakery is certainly an asset.

Haruhi grabbed a silver dessert spoon and placed it and a napkin on the wooden serving tray, next to the strawberry mini tart. She winked at Mori as he finished making what was honestly a hot chocolate. He grunted softly, as if to say “hush, you.”

---

He came in every day that week. And every day he tried a different sweet pastry. As far as Mori could tell, he loved them all equally.

And Kyoya saw no objection to adding Hot Chocolate to the official cafe menu. “It’s not seasonally appropriate, but there has been an anti-caffiene health trend picking up lately,” he said decisively.

On the last day of his work week, Mori once again watched the boy leave the shop for the day. This time, the boy, busy looking at his phone, bumped into a trio of well-built, strong young men. He started to apologize for running into them, and Mori panicked a little, instinctively leaping over the counter and dashing past the other customers sitting at their tables. A blur of hyperactivity in an otherwise amazingly calm and inviting space.

And then Mori stopped, his heart beating hard.

“Haninozuka-sensei! We are so very sorry for getting in your way!” the trio barked, stiffly and respectfully bowing. Honey smiled kindly and waved them off.

“Oh, no, it was my fault entirely! I must have been busy with my own thoughts,” Haninozuka offered brightly. And after a quick exchange of pleasantries, he turned and walked up the street.

The trio lingered and talked amongst themselves. Mori tried not to listen, sort of. But he desperately needed to know more about this Haninozuka person. Their… sensei?

“Sensei was so...” Said the first one.

“I know! He’s been such a goddamn hardass at the dojo lately. I wasn’t expecting it.” The second offered.

“I was ready for him to beat us up right here on the sidewalk.” The third expressed, now relieved.

Mori was dumbfounded. This bubbly slip of a lad who giggled at baby ducks and was afraid to ask for a coffee without coffee... was apparently also a brutal martial arts teacher? He couldn’t possibly... and the name was familiar, but he couldn’t finish the thought.

Mori swam in his thoughts for a minute, completely adrift in the dissonance, before Tamaki finally caught his attention and brought him back to earth. “Mori-senpai!” he practically sang, “you left this winsome young lady before giving back her change~”

Mori’s eyes flashed and he looked back, embarrassed. “Very sorry, miss.”

“Um, well, I don’t mind!” she chirped. And she honestly hadn’t minded. He had been athletic and lithe --like an action hero-- when he vaulted himself over the counter, and it had made her think spicy thoughts she would never say aloud. Not something she had expected to experience during her trip to the nicest pastry shop in the ward, but it was a surprise she would treasure for years.

---

It was an agonizing week before Haninozuka came back into the patisserie.

Mori spent every shift that week dutifully doing his work, to the best of his ability. But his ability had degraded because a solid half of his brain was fixated on this mystery. Cute? Cruel? Sweets? Sensei? It consumed him, and he was beginning to hate himself for it. It had been much easier to do this job before he had someone he so looked forward to being around.

Then Mori caught himself. Sure, the work was easier before, when he had been habitually focused entirely on the tasks. Separating eggs. Measuring flour. Shaping butter into thick slabs. Pouring coffee and picking croissants out of the case. Even washing dishes. It had become a somewhat mindless rhythm.

But Haninozuka had made him want to come to work. It made the work feel more purposeful, somehow. It was like Mori had a specific audience in mind when he wiped tables. An audience he wanted to feel safe and comfortable and happy in his domain.

But what if Haninozuka was a bad person? Those three guys had been so sure that this was an unusual side to him. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for their comments to color his idea of this boy. But he also was afraid it would be foolish to not heed their words. Surely they knew their sensei better than Mori could possibly have gotten to in a handful of hours over a few days?

But eventually, he did come back.

This time, he was escorted by the trio from before, as well as a new face. The fourth person, who had similar facial features to Haninozuka, but was a bit taller than him, also had a permanent scowl topped with a grown out bowl cut and glasses, and he was nervously eyeing Haninozuka, watching to see what he would order.

Mori was ready to push the register icon for in the hot chocolate part of the order, and jumped ahead to asking “What pastry would you like today, sir?”

Haninozuka, looking resolute, jaw clenched and without the usual gleam in his warm eyes, stated plainly “I’ll take a plain croissant and black coffee today. Thank you.” The bowl cut kid visibly relaxed a little.

Mori felt the pain in his unusually flat voice, but only nodded. “Excellent choice. Is this together or separate?”

Once he finished taking the group order, they paid and left to go sit down at a pair of tables outside on the sidewalk, well away from the previously frequented pond-viewing seat.

Mori turned to the task at hand. He brought out a set of wooden half-trays, one for each order, and selected pastries for each guest while Haruhi got to work on the drinks. Mori used the tongs to pick up the plain croissant and paused. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt so wrong.

He put it back and selected a hazelnut and chocolate ganache filled croissant instead. It looked nearly identical on the outside, especially if you weren’t paying close attention. Only a small seam with chocolate peeking through could be noticed, and even then, that was on the bottom side of the pastry.

He then turned to Haruhi and said, without room for question, “make the black coffee a hot chocolate. And put all the drinks in to-go cups.”

Haruhi smiled, and used a marker to write “black” on the paper cup that would be destined to not, in fact, have any coffee in it whatsoever. She was already thinking similarly, but had been waiting for Mori to declare it officially.

Haruhi helped Mori carry the trays of drinks and pastries out to the sidewalk tables. He carefully placed the correct one in front of Haninozuka and gave a half smile. Haninozuka barely noticed, staring dead ahead, bracing himself for what would be an absolute trial of bitter drink and plain food. She distributed napkins and utensils appropriately. They both chimed “Thank you, please enjoy,” and turned to head back inside.

“Why don’t you wipe down table 3?” prompted Haruhi, who magically produced a clean damp rag and offered it to Mori. Table 3 was inside the shop, but aside from the large pane of clear glass, was right next to the sidewalk tables. The audio was barely muffled. Mori took the cloth and singlemindedly started wiping at a table that was cerftifiably already clean.

Haninozuka tremulously started with the pastry. He nibbled cautiously at one corner. He sighed.

Mori cursed silently. “You have to take a bigger bite to get to the filling!” he thought.

Haninozuka couldn’t bring himself to try a sip of black coffee yet. He went back to the croissant. This time a luscious double whammy of chocolate and hazelnut hit his tongue. His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

Haninozuka Yasuchika, his brother, was taking a bite of his own pastry and found the kouign-amann satisfactorily salty as well as only lightly sweet. He grabbed his latte and brought it to his lips, then paused. He couldn’t help himself. Squinting suspiciously through his glasses, which light glinted off of even though they were all fully sitting in the shade, he prodded verbally “what about your black coffee, Mitsukuni-san?”

Mori kept pushing the cleaning rag over a now polished strip of an already spotless table and watched intently. “Mitsukuni” he thought to himself. “A nice name. And… I feel like I know it?”

Mitsukuni tried to not lament the inevitable ruination of his surprisingly edible, nay delicious, croissant. He reached for his cup and brought it closer. Holding his breath, so as not to overpower his sense of taste, he sipped delicately. Yasuchika grinned.

“Why it is perfectly tasty, brother! As usual, I mean.” Mitsukuni smiled, practically florid.

Yasuchika was caught between doubt and relief. His alien brother had so obviously hated giving up sweet things this past month. How could anyone go from entire cakes to once piece of (albeit very nice) plain bread? And from the most syrupy, whipped cream-bedecked drinks to black coffee? It was an unprecendented transformation. But on the other hand, Yasuchika felt accomplished. He had singlehandedly pressured his older brother to reform his ways. It was for the best, obviously. What sort of dojo is led by someone who would do anything for a chocolate bar? The lack of self control was shameful.

The other three guys were completely oblivious to the intimate details of sugary drama. They had simply thought it would be a good idea to bring their sensei to the only place they had seen him happy in recent memory, as part of a quiet campaign to improve the captain’s mood. Practice had gotten shockingly intense this past week, and, if they were to survive next week they needed their sensei to ease off a touch. Not that they could EVER say so to his face.

Mori checked that Mitsukuni was happily enjoying his hot chocolate and pastry, and that Yasuchika remained none the wiser. Satisfied, he decided the table’s newly worn hole was deep enough and turned back to his work behind the service counter. Haruhi winked and said nothing.

---

It was almost another week before Mitsukuni came back to the patisserie. Mori had been more patient this time. He felt firmly confident that Mitsukuni would find his way back when he was ready.

And his patience was rewarded, in a way.

Mitsukuni staggered in, after dark and only twenty minutes before closing. His eyes were bleary and his countenance groggy and listless. Mitsukuni, usually so sprightly and upright, dragged his bookbag on the ground and pulled up to the duck-watching table. Mori wasn’t sure what to do. Hand the man a hot chocolate as usual? Or… ask how he was doing???

Mori decided to walk over and offer some direct, compassionate human interaction. “Good evening,” he said, simply.

Mitsukuni looked up, with dark circles under his eyes.

He slammed his hand on the table, which startled Mori for but a moment, and said “I wanna shot!”

“...” said Mori.

“Of chocolate syrup, I mean. Like, a couple pumps in an espresso glass.”

Mori left and came back in an inhumanly fast turnaround with exactly that, and offered the teeny glass full of viscous sugary syrup to Mitsukuni, who promptly sucked it down and smacked the glass upside down on the table. “Another!” he garbled.

Mori didn’t remember grabbing the entire syrup bottle, but it was in his hand already. He decided not to think too hard about that and just left the entire thing on the table and walked away, back to cleaning up behind the counter for the night.

Well after the shop closed, with most of the lights off, save for the one over the register, Mori was done closing with one exception. Mitsukuni was finishing the last of the chocolate syrup. He had perked up considerably, and was now waving his arms animatedly, talking fast about his troubles.

“And Chika-chan comes up to me, and says, you know what he says?” Mori did not know. “He says that real men don’t like sweet things! He tells me I won’t be able to get any respect from my men if I keep eating midnight cakes and carrying candies in my pockets!”

Mori assumed Chika-chan must be the grumpy boy in glasses from the other day. He couldn’t say he liked him, particularly. Or, to be more precise, he didn’t like anyone who dared tell Mitsukuni that his respectability was dependent on having “appropriate” and “masculine” interests.

Mitsukuni blurted out a final exclamation of “Chika doesn’t have the balls to talk shit about Usa-chan, though!” and he… passed out.

Mori didn’t know who this Usa-chan was, but he did know that the shop was closed and that Mitsukuni needed to go home. But where was home?

He decided to try something. He looked up the name “Mitsukuni” along with the words “Bunkyo ward” and “dojo.” The search results were conveniently helpful, offering a website that encouraged serious karate students to sign up under the tutelage of Haninozuka Mitskuni.

“Oh. He is really that Haninozuka,” Mori thought to himself. Ages ago, there had been a falling out between their families. Once a close bond through fealty and eventually marriage and bloodline between the Haninozuka and the Morinozuka families, had been broken a couple generations back. The stories we still told, the wounds still fresh. Mori hadn’t even thought about them as “real” since they had become more of a background radiation to his life than a pressing influence. Until today, that is.

He grabbed the leather book bag and slung it over his shoulder, and then picked Mitsukuni up gingerly. Mitsukuni remained unconscious, a few smears of chocolate around his mouth. A legendary sugar crash.

Mori locked up the shop, without even having to put the boy down. He walked towards the Haninozuka family dojo, which was close by.

The lights were on. It was fairly quiet on the grounds. Only once voice was shouting from inside the dojo training hall as they practiced the forms.

Mori called out. “Excuse me. I have your sensei.”

A surprised face poked out. It was Yasuchika. “My… sensei? Oh, you mean my brother, Mitsukuni.” He looked suspiciously at Mori. “Who are you? What did you do to him?”

“I work at the French pastry shop up the street. I didn’t do anything, he was just very very tired.”

Mori purposefully “forgot” to mention his name. And he didn’t want to stick around to find out what Yasuchika really thought of him, especially with their families at odds.

Instead, he gently deposited Mitsukuni’s slumbering form on a training mat and put the book bag down next to him. Mori looked into his calm, round face and committed it to memory. Then he issued a quick departing bow and turned away, leaving the compound. He didn’t look back with his eyes, but a small part of him looked forward with his heart, in a complicated way.

He couldn’t shake that, despite it all, he still wanted to see this Haninozuka back at his patisserie and cafe. He walked home, tired.

[sadclearance]

smile

pairing: elle greenaway x female!reader

summary: the progression of elle's relationship with y/n throughout season 1 episode 20: charm and harm to season 2 episode 6: the boogeyman

category: fluff and angst i think

warning(s): none

word count: 3510

"what?" elle asked as she felt morgan staring holes into her for the millionth time this morning.

"we've only been here an hour, and you've made two calls," morgan said as he leaned back in his chair.

"so?" elle asked as she grabbed her mobile phone from her desk.

"you hate the phone, elle."

"i don't hate the phone," elle almost laughed.

"actually, you do," reid added to the conversation. "did you know that alexander graham bell and eli gray simultaneously invented electronic sound transmission devices? it came down to a race betwixt the two."

"yeah, and bell beat gray to the patent office by a matter of hours," elle finished. her cell beeped, but she only put it away and continued, "common knowledge."

"why are you acting so weird?" morgan asked as he twiddled his pencil.

"i'm not."

although she said that, the next time she checked her phone, she couldn't help but let a smile slip.

"you're getting some loving, aren't you? you got a boyfriend," morgan said with a smug smirk.

"you're basing this on what exactly--the fact that i don't like the phone? that's all you got? that's your best? you've been a profiler for how long, derek, and that's--that's weak. that's weak," elle said, defensive and flustered.

morgan knew he shouldn't have, but elle made it so easy. she had left the building without her phone.

[9:13am] y/n: still on 4 tonight? miss u xoxo

morgan shrugged and forgot all about it.

that is until he left work one night.

tonight, the team had found c.i.a. deputy director bruno hawks guilty of treason and murder.

morgan had gone back to the office to get to his car, and elle had gone back as well for presumably the same reason.

he was about to get into his car until he saw a stranger leaning on elle's. he was about to step in to help ward off the unwanted stranger when elle started laughing.

"i told you not to come to my work," elle let out the most carefree laugh that morgan had ever heard from her.

it was bad to eavesdrop, but morgan couldn't help himself.

"i'm no profiler, but you don't seem to be too mad about it," the stranger smiled.

"y/n, you're unbelievable," elle playfully rolled her eyes. "how long have you been waiting?"

morgan recognized the name from a few days ago when he snooped on elle's phone.

"not long," y/n tried to shrug.

"yeah, right. you're shivering," elle said as she shrugged off her jacket and wrapped it around y/n's shoulders. "you should've at least waited in the car."

"and miss out on the chance to get your jacket? yeah right," y/n giggled as she opened the door to the passenger seat. "i'll drive. you look beat."

"you're a terrible driver," elle laughed but accepted the offer.

"kiss for the chauffeur?" y/n asked as she leaned down.

"we're at my workplace," elle said, being the voice of reason between the two.

"please?" y/n dragged on.

"fine," elle smiled as she leaned forward and gave y/n a quick peck.

"your smile's as pretty as ever."

"what a charmer."

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"reid, are you sure you don't wanna come?" elle asked one last time.

"thanks, but i have to go--i'm going home," reid said as he shoved cds into his bag. "have a good one."

"since reid's not using it...you think you can swing that deal for a friend of mine?" elle asked morgan once reid rushed out of the room.

"is your friend cute?" morgan asked playfully.

"is that a yes?" elle asked.

"yes. a friend of yours is a friend of mine," morgan nodded with a cheeky smile. "hope your friend's packed and ready to go."

"actually—"

"elle!" the girl from the other night waved excitedly.

"this is my friend y/n. y/n, derek morgan," elle smiled. even as she introduced them, she couldn't take her eyes off of her.

morgan let out a dopey smile at that.

"what?" elle asked when y/n got in the car.

"nothing," morgan shook his head.

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"may i have this dance?" y/n asked as she gave a theatrical bow to elle.

"you're so dramatic," elle rolled her eyes, unable to keep the amused smile off her face.

"is that a yes?"

"what about morgan?" elle looked to where her coworker was at at the other side of the club.

"his attention's already locked on the hundred something girls he's with. c'mon, elle. you owe me for ditching me to play frisbee with that guy," y/n pouted.

"okay, all right," elle sighed as though this wasn't something that she too wanted. though, the wide smile on her face said otherwise.

their nimble fingers intertwined while both held each other close by the other's back with their free hands.

they swayed to the slow music, and y/n twirled elle with the hand that held her's.

elle had a look of pure bliss on her face when she was once again facing y/n.

y/n stared in awe at the beauty that was elle greenaway.

"do i have something on my face or something?" elle asked when she noticed that y/n was staring.

"if you had such a beautiful view, wouldn't you wanna keep looking, too?" y/n said with a sly smile.

"you're such a flirt," elle said as she leaned in for a kiss.

y/n raised her hand from the small of elle's back to the back of her head. with their eyes closed, bodies close together, and the upbeat music turning into dull background noise, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

"i know your friend went through the trouble of giving me a discount on the room, but..." y/n trailed off.

"yes," elle answered in an instance, grabbing y/n's hand and leading her away.

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"our forensics expert and your coroner agree that the time of death was no less than twenty-four hours ago. neither agent greenaway or y/n l/n could've committed this murder because they've been in this country for less than twenty four hours," hotchner came to the rescue.

"thank you," y/n said once they were on the plane ride back.

"aaron hotchner," he introduced himself as he reached across the table and shook y/n's hand.

"yeah, i figured," y/n laughed lightly only to realize what she had said, "i mean--"

"i talk about my coworkers sometimes," elle explained with a dismissive hand.

"sorry, elle..." y/n said as she played with the edge of elle's jacket which she was wearing.

"no, don't be," elle shook her head.

"you okay?" morgan asked.

"yeah, thanks," y/n nodded.

they settled into an uncomfortable silence.

hotchner sighed as he looked over the autopsy report of the man that his agent was accused of murdering less than an hour ago.

morgan tried to shut his eyes but failed to get any rest.

elle sat incredibly still, the most tense that both morgan and hotchner had ever seen her.

y/n went between dozing off to being as attentive as a soldier.

"you don't have to sit here. you can sit anywhere on the plane," elle eventually said. "here, follow me."

morgan had fully given up on getting any sleep, and his eyes followed as elle lead y/n to the long seat by her hand.

elle sat down on the edge and patted her lap.

y/n hesitantly looked toward morgan and hotchner--to which morgan quickly looked away as though he hadn't been watching--before lying down on the couch and using elle's lap as a pillow.

"i'm sorry," elle said in a somber voice as she brushed away the hair that was covering y/n's face.

"if this is your apology, i don't mind being accused of murder," y/n smiled as she grabbed the hand that was on her face and held it.

and although she had tried to laugh it off, the team could see that she was clearly affected by the events of this morning.

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"you're welcome to come with us as a guest," hotchner said once they landed.

"thanks, but today's grocery day," y/n shook her head.

"i'll send an agent to help you on your way out," hotchner said as he gestured at the closest agent.

y/n gave a weak wave before she let herself be escorted out.

"do you guys want to go home? get some rest?" hotchner asked his two agents.

"hell no," elle said as she turned to look at hotchner as if he had just said the most outrageous thing in the world.

"i'm good," morgan shook his head.

"how much sleep did you two get in the last twenty-four hours?"

"i am not sleeping until i find whoever this frank giles is," elle said, full of determination.

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"my eyes are so heavy, i can barely see the board," elle sighed as she turned to reid.

she could barely comprehend the explanation that he was giving about the book code.

she slumped into the leather chair and rested her chin on her hand as she racked her brain to try to find ways to figure out what book they needed, but she couldn't come up with anything.

"the answer's gotta be up there somewhere," elle yawned as she tried her best to focus her eyes on the board of clues in front of her.

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hotchner walked into the room to find morgan and reid going over all of the clues that they had been given.

he walked over to elle, who was sleeping on a couch. it looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"elle," hotchner said as he shook her shoulder.

"i'm awake," elle said hastily as she sat up.

"i'm sending you home," hotchner said as he looked at her exhausted state.

"no," elle frowned, voice still raspy with sleep.

"you need to get some rest. you haven't slept in thirty-six hours. we won't do anything without you, i promise," hotchner said, trying to convince her to get the rest that she clearly needed.

"elle, we're not any closer than we were. get out of here. go home," morgan reasoned.

"it's an order," hotchner said in a lighter tone, letting her know that it was just out of concern.

even as she got up and walked down the stairs, she could barely keep her eyes open.

"anderson," hotchner called to one of the agents. "take greenaway home."

"yes sir," anderson got up from his seat.

"no, i'm fine," elle tried to reassure.

"you're clearly worn out. you can't drive like this," hotchner shook his head.

"all right," elle sighed, "come on, anderson."

"get some sleep," hotchner said as she left.

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as gideon waited in front of elle's hospital room, sitting in one of the many chairs available in the hallway, he saw a woman sitting with her head in her knees right next to elle's door. she was as close as she could be without getting in anybody's way.

he wondered who she was. perhaps it was somebody mourning over the person in the room next to elle's.

for hours, they both sat in their respective places in complete silence.

gideon kept his phone close, waiting for someone from his team to call him and let him know that the case had been closed.

a doctor eventually came, and the woman on the floor raised her head for the first time, looking up at him.

"she's gonna be fine," he said with a smile. "you can see her, but she's sleeping."

gideon was about to get up from his seat when the unfamiliar woman raised from the floor and entered the room.

the door was left open, and gideon could see the woman shakily reach toward elle's sleeping face, her movements so gentle and slow as though anything more might break elle like a fragile doll.

she brushed the hair out of her face and moved to pull a chair closer to the hospital bed.

gideon let out a small smile and decided to leave. elle would have somebody waiting for her when she woke up.

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"what's wrong?" y/n asked as she grabbed elle's plate. "was it bad?"

"no, it was great," elle shook her head. "i just feel kinda restless, i guess."

"if you say so," y/n frowned as she washed the dishes.

"four months out of work, i feel kinda useless," elle said as she sat down on the couch. "i feel like a freeloader."

"for the millionth time, you're not," y/n said. "i like spending time with you."

"i just don't wanna feel like a complete bum all the time."

"you're not a bum. everybody needs breaks," y/n tried to reason.

"nobody takes a four month break."

"tons of people need long breaks. especially after what you've... what you had to go through..." y/n's frown deepened.

"i'm completely fine now. i promise," elle tried to reassure as she turned to y/n. "you don't have to keep worrying about me."

"yeah, okay..." y/n sighed.

a beep caught elle's attention.

"it's a text from the bureau," elle said after a pause. "i have to go."

"i thought you weren't going back until next week," y/n said, turning off the sink immediately and turning around to face elle.

"they texted me," elle repeated as she grabbed her stuff and made her way to the front door.

"i love you," y/n said with a worried look as elle closed the front door behind her.

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elle opened the door to the bedroom that she had been sharing with y/n.

it was sometime around two in the morning. elle couldn't really tell.

y/n was on her side of the bed, sitting up and thoughtfully staring at the ceiling.

"you didn't have to wait up for me," elle said as she flicked the light switch off.

"i know," y/n said, her eyes still on the ceiling.

it didn't take a profiler to know that something was wrong.

"how's your week been?" elle asked.

"it was okay. uneventful," y/n shrugged. "what about you?"

"i went to california for a case."

"how'd it go?"

"in the end, the unsub had a knife to a little boy's throat. he lived."

"that's good. you're his hero."

"no, hotch is."

"you're all his hero."

"maybe."

silence. terrible, unbearable silence.

when did things become like this between them?

"i think you've changed."

elle would've laughed if the air between them wasn't so tense and serious. y/n had always been a mind reader.

"what are you? a profiler?" elle asked. she meant for it to come out lighter and less snappy than it did.

"when it comes to you, i can't help but be one, i guess," y/n sighed. "i love you so much, of course i notice things. elle, i've said it before, and i'll say it again. you're the most breath taking view i've ever seen, of course i wanna keep looking at you as much as possible. but... keeping my eyes on the view means having to see all of the sadness that comes with it. you're still gorgeous, elle, but you've changed so much. before, i couldn't even get mad at you for leaving in the middle of a date because your face lit up so much. i knew how much this job meant to you, and how happy it made you when you finally got the position, but now... i hate what this job's done to you. it doesn't even make you happy anymore. you look tormented, elle. your face is always full of so much worry, your body's always so tense, and your smiles..."

"i smile," elle tried to defend, giving a forced laugh to try to prove her point.

y/n finally turned to look at her.

"this is what i mean. you're miserable, elle. your smile's the most beautiful thing in the world, but it doesn't reach your eyes anymore."

elle tried to open her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"i can't sit here and watch you wilt away like this anymore," y/n got up from the bed and walked toward the door.

"where're you going?" elle finally found her voice.

"honestly... i don't know."

the door shut quietly behind her, and elle was left all alone in the dark room.

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gideon walked down the stairs and saw that half of his team was still there.

"doesn't anybody ever go home?" he asked.

"you're here," elle shrugged.

"exactly my point. you don't wanna model your social lives after mine," gideon said as he opened the fridge for a late night snack.

"if it makes you feel any better, hotch and morgan are gone," jareau said.

"hotch is married, and morgan is... well, they've both got partners to get back to," reid said.

gideon shot a quick glance toward elle, but elle was too busy staring at her coffee mug and sulking to notice.

"so what's this case about?"

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as elle took out the small complementary bottles of alcohol out, she heard a two bits knock on her door.

"hey," reid said with a small smile once elle opened the door.

"hi," elle greeted back.

"are you okay?" reid asked, getting straight to the point.

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?" elle asked.

instead of answering, reid entered the room.

"no, really, come right in," elle said, her lips flattening out into a line.

she grabbed the small bottles that she had gotten out and made her way to the table.

she almost rolled her eyes as reid gave her a confused look.

"what? you wanna check my i.d.?"

reid followed her to the table.

"so... why're you here?" elle asked as she opened one of the bottles.

"i thought... maybe you'd wanna talk," reid shrugged.

"don't go all profiler on me," elle scoffed and shook her head.

"elle, you got shot in your own home, and then you came back to work like nothing even happened. thinking you might want to talk isn't profiling you. it's psych 101," reid said, trying to keep things light.

elle sighed and took a sip of her drink.

"please?" reid asked in a slightly begging tone.

elle gave in and offered one of the small bottles to reid.

in response, he hesitantly grabbed a glass and took the seat across from elle.

"after he shot me, he reached into my wound, so he could write on the wall in my blood," elle paused. "i was barely conscious, but i could feel his hand in there... and sometimes it's like i can still feel it."

reid took some time to think of what to say. "elle, he's dead. and you're... you're right here. you won."

elle kept herself from scoffing or sighing. instead, she raised her glass.

"then here's to winning."

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as lee's body was loaded, hotchner shook his head in disbelief.

sure, the officer had told him that elle was cleared, but hotchner knew the truth.

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"she hasn't confessed to anything?" gideon asked.

"no," hotchner shook his head even though the other couldn't see it.

"well, you're doing the right thing," the man on the phone reassured.

"i know." did he know?

"i'll see you when i land."

"gideon?" elle asked as she leaned into hotchner's office.

"yeah."

"tell him i said bye."

elle fully walked into the office with her gear in hand, placing them down on hotchner's desk.

"this is not an admission of guilt."

"right," hotchner said, holding back a scoff.

"you know, when i first started this job, the sound of my phone ringing, a call from the bureau... i used to get so excited. the blood would race through my veins, but now... that same sound paralyzes me. i'm not the same person anymore," elle said with her arms folded around her. "that day, i was alone in the one place i have the right to feel safe, and that's my home. just like those women have the right to feel safe in their homes. our homes were stolen from us. that night, if i had to do it all over again, i wouldn't change a thing."

"even though you killed someone?" hotchner asked.

elle let out a sigh that was close to turning into a scoff. of course hotchner wouldn't even try to understand.

"garner stole everything from me. my home, and the one person that made it a home in the first place," elle said, her voice so shaky that if hotchner didn't know any better he'd expect her to start crying.

"elle," hotchner tried. he didn't know what to say.

"i guess that's it then," elle said with a slight shake of her head.

she turned toward the door and opened it wide enough to get past it, but she paused.

"you know, when i first joined the team, i couldn't figure out why you never ever smile," she said bleakly. "now, even if quitting the job i desperately wanted is what it's gonna take, i'm gonna go find my smile again."

and with that, elle walked out of his office.

elle to y/n: i'm chasing after my smile. wanna help me?

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a/n;

as with apparently all of my works, i had an idea and then had no idea how to execute it.

idk elle's last scene in the boogeyman broke my heart, and i wanted to believe that she left to lead a happier life.

i thought "smile" would be a cute idea, but i feel like it's just really messy and incomprehensible like you never know what's going on in the text because the transitions are weird idk.

[ask-flip-frost]

Day 7: Gruesome

Nobody wanted the Winchester route. That much was a fact. When Flip had been setting up the schedules for the upcoming week, she knew that it was impossible not to put it on task, though. She was going to have to suck it up. Silt was getting too old to handle the energy output it would take, and Slope wasn't much use in their case because he was already partially Turned as it was. No chance at trusting a job like this to the temps. No matter how much the Sprite hemmed and hawed over the ramifications of letting them stew a little longer, it would always be difficult to steel herself for what it took to do a brain clearing of that magnitude. No sense in putting it off. For most Humans, even particularly disturbed ones, a Nightmare cleansing was no big thing to fuss over. Repeated dippings into billions of minds left an effect like a trickling water torture over time, but delving into the brains of creatures who held residence in Hell for extended periods was akin to being waterboarded with liquid rage and despair. Sam and Dean Winchester were buckets. They had need to be emptied periodically or they'd go mad and take a huge chunk of the world with them.

No avoiding it. With a resigned chirp, Flip closed her twinkling work ledger and opened a Portal for that evening's route to begin.

~

Dean Winchester snorted loudly, jolted from the deepest sleep he'd managed to curl up to in months by a light too bright to ignore. His personal quarters in the bunker had been flooded in the halo effect of an artificial bulb on his bedside table.

"Dammit, Sammy!" the man groused into his pillow. "I'm not goin' on a stupid jog. I told you. Go away."

"Did you know that butterflies can taste with their feet?" a very NOT Sam voice asked conversationally. "I thought that very odd, but THEN I found out that Humans can do it, too! Not with everything, but garlic can be rubbed on your foot, and because of the allicin in it, it gets into your bloodstream from the oil and water properties it has. Travels all the way to your mouth and nose. Incredible, ne?"

An annoyed glance was fired over Dean's shoulder at the Fairy on his nightstand, but the effect seemed lost on her. He'd met her very briefly before on sparse occasions, but someone who was barely an acquaintance had no business being in the Men of Letters bunker. No matter who she was bumping wings with.

"But that's not what we're here to talk about. Nay. Today, kids, we're talking about our FEELINGS, and how repressing can-"

"I'm fine, twinkle toes. Now get outta my room." Dean cut her off and scrubbed his palms over his tired eyes before reaching out blindly for the light switch. "Go peddle your emotional wack-a-doo shtick on someone else."

"Fine? That's a very abstract interpretation of what you are, I assure you. And I'm not in your room. You're in mine." Flip corrected, arms akimbo as she rocked on her heels knowingly.

"The hell are you talking about? My bed. My lamp. My-"

"Window?" Flip interrupted, gesturing to a medium box window with purple blackout curtains.

There were no windows in his real bedroom. A moment of slow growing denial passed before Dean rolled up off the bed, pillow gun at the ready, and jerked the curtains wide.

Outside was a sulfurus landscape, parched and cracked with forlorn wishes of moisture. Great hairless beasts with gouged sockets snuffled the dust, blood and pus oozing from their disfigured maws. A symphony of screams echoed in the distance. Dean knew those screams. He'd lived them. He'd given and received them. They must have been on an outer rim of a torture circle, as you could not directly witness the seas of agony. A clap of deepest thunder triggered a jerking sense memory lurching in the recesses of his chest. Meat hooks and chains, whips and knives and whimpering taunts and burning and-

"Dean... close the curtains."

Brought back to the moment, Dean's white knuckle grip on the curtain fabric loosened. He tugged the window dressings shut, but didn't dare turn away, lest the horrid creatures crash in to take him by surprise. He was back. Had he died in his sleep? Was it that apnea thing he kept hearing about? Sam complained about him snoring sometimes, so... maybe? He didn't remember getting hurt or sick. What was going to happen when Sam found his body?

"You're not dead. Not today. You can come away from there, I promise they can't get in." Flip waved him closer. "We don't have a lot of time to talk, but it's important that we do."

Never one to take things at face value, the eldest Winchester kept his eyes locked on the window.

"Where am I?" he demanded.

"Right now, you and I are in a pretty little safe space in your dirty little mind."

"...I'm asleep. And you're brain-invading." Dean worked it out and lowered his gun. "Not cool."

"You're sleeping, I'm working. Usually I don't make myself known because it's a pain in my glittering ass to make a prolonged stop in anyone's mind, but yours takes some time to clear out anyway, so why not have a chat?" Flip shrugged. "A captive audience. All that."

Dean groaned and tucked his gun away. Why couldn't he even dream without being nagged? Too many people knew how to push into his thoughts, and it pissed him off to a special degree that he couldn't even have autonomy of his own brain to keep them out. Was he going to have to keep getting warding tatoos or bone carvings until his entire body was a graffiti wall just for a little time to himself?

"Fine. What do you want?"

Flip blinked. It wasn't obvious, she supposed. One little talon pointed to the window.

"Do you know what that is?" she returned a question with a question.

"Hell. A memory of Hell that I'm dreaming about, I dunno." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling in annoyance. "You wanted to see what Hell looks like, is that it? That's why you're here?"

"I've seen it. I don't need to look at a memory for a reminder. So no. That," she pointed again. "Is trauma manifesting as a bad memory. Nightmares Creatures feed on good Dreams, and are drawn to people with an excess of Gloom. Gloom is a residue that can't be seen by the Human eye, and it's my job to scrub it out of people periodically. So what I want is for you to produce less of it. You have Hell roots in your brain. We've been trying for years to dig them out, but we can't. If we pull any deeper, you'll die. Best we can do is starve them by emptying your wells of upset from time to time and dry them out a little."

"Yeah, well. You do what I do for a living, you can't help but pick up the flavors of the road. You can't expect me to quit my job just because it complicates your job." Dean gave her a patronizing smirk, which was returned with an exasperated trill. "We done here?"

"I'm not asking you to quit your job, twat waffle. I'm asking you to work on your feelings. Your job shows you Bad Things, but your repressive nature is making it harder on you than it has to be, which in turn is making it harder on us." Flip retorted. "Me, and my coworkers when they have you on rotation. You're difficult."

"Cry me a river. It's not like I've got easy work, either."

"Of course not. Because the way you go about it is to work with one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel." Flip deadpanned. "Why are you so against getting better?"

"Hey, I'm not against the whole feeling better thing, alright? It just doesn't happen. Think I want to be mad all the time?" Dean snapped. "Think I don't know it's screwing things up? Hurting people? I've got a lot riding on how I handle things and everybody I care about is still getting the raw end of the deal no matter what I do! It's not as easy as 'cheer up', okay? I can't."

Flip watched Dean pace around the room like a caged tiger, silently daring her to say anything to to contrary. Instead, she sat down on the nightstand and swung her little feet back and forth idly over the edge, just waiting. For what, he had no freaking clue.

"And it's-" he gestured around the room at nothing. "It's everything. It's getting caught at a red light. It's finding out Sammy made a decision without me. Realizing I went over 3,000 without getting an oil change. It's things that bug the living hell outta me, and I know they shouldn't, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Everything blows up."

"Trauma." Flip repeated.

"Yeah, I get it. You said that." Dean huffed.

"Your mind is used to constantly being in danger, being scared that people you care about will be tortured and killed. It's wired that way now, so that even little amounts of stress feel like huge threats, ne~" Flip pointed to the bed and waited for Dean to sit. "You block people out because you don't want to burden them, and then feel betrayed when they do the same. You're going straight to anger because it's familiar. Easier than being vulnerable and risking someone making fun or pitying you."

The man just glared. He hated accusations like this. Especially if they were right and stung his sense of pride.

"Easy for you to say, Tinkerbell. What do you have to lose? I have... I've got almost nobody. Wh- Are you smiling?"

"This is good, keep going." Flip flapped a hand.

"This funny to you?" Dean frowned.

"No. On the outside I'm pulling out a lot of grime from your brain, and you venting in here is loosening some of it. It's a good thing. Look out the window." she shook her head.

Dean grimaced uncertainly, but crossed to open the curtains just enough for a peek. The creatures were splintering apart, carried away on the wind like so many dust particles. The landscape had sparse patches of grass and the sky had begun to clear enough to bring shafts of light through, dancing with sun motes.

"You should talk. To your brother. To your friends. You might be surprised how much it helps."

"It's not gonna change anything." Dean replied, his voice far more hoarse than he expected it to be.

"If you do nothing, nothing changes. If you try trusting people not to throw you under a bus... it just might." Flip offered gently. "You're good at being angry. Try getting good at other emotions. It's an uphill walk, but you know there are at least a few people who want you to feel okay. Let them help you. Stop acting like you don't deserve it, and maybe one day you'll feel that you do."

He didn't, though. He didn't deserve to feel better. Not to his mind, anyway. He stared out the window and watched the outside world changing for the better in ways he knew he never could. Time kept marching, and he kept drinking and internalizing. He'd do it until the day he died. A forever death. Not a Winchester death.

"You're crying."

"What? Bullshit." Dean scoffed.

"Not in here. Outside." Flip amended.

"How do you know?"

"It's my job. I can't stay in your mind much longer before it starts being a detriment to your person. I'm almost done. The bucket is empty, so this is as good as it's going to get." Flip fluttered over to the window sill, not looking at Dean but straight ahead to a wispy field of oats. "Where are you, Dean?"

"...I'm fishing." Dean replied, swallowing. "Waiting on Sammy to get back with a six pack and some half decent snacks. Spicy jerky. Combos... the ones with the pretzel and cheese deals, you know. Gummy lifesavers. He likes the berry ones..." he trailed off, mind catching up with his body in shallow breaths and burning eyes. "What if something bad happens?"

"What if something good happens?" Flip patted his index finger.

Ah, there it was. Finally the man began to cry, hanging his head in shame. When he lifted it after a shuddering sob, she was gone and he was sitting in a folding chair on a pier with a large hand patting his shoulder.

"Catch anything yet?" Sam asked.

"No. Uh. No. Nibbles, but nothing good." Dean caught a bag of Combos tossed in his direction and cracked open a Budweiser.

~

When he sat up in bed, it was no surprise that his pillow was soaked, but he was still annoyed about it. The air smelled like bacon, though. That was nice. He shuffled out to the galley, yawning wide, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"I was gonna come get you." Sam sat two plates on the table, piled high with waffles and bacon.

"Somebody woke up chipper." Dean rubbed his face, but couldn't refuse the siren call of the porcine perfection.

"Slept better than I have in a while, I guess..." Sam trailed off.

"Yeah. About that," Dean took a sip and sat down, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "Can we, uh... can we talk? About... stuff?"

Sam passed the syrup to his brother and tried not to look too excited over the prospect of having a real meat and potatoes conversation.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

[myhauntedsalem]

Graveyard Shift Workers Share Their Eeriest Encounters with the Supernatural

When the sun goes down, things can get a little creepy. Graveyard shift workers from around the globe have been sharing their spookiest supernatural encounters whilst on the job. From hospitals where death and the recently departed stalk the corridors to security guards who soon discover they are not alone in the empty buildings they guard. After reading these true-life ghost stories you’re about to gain a whole new appreciation for all the brave men and women who work the night shift.

During the long midnight hours, the things that go bump in the night are not always just figments of an overactive imagination, as the following people learned the hard way.

1. They Play at Night

“My mother used to work at a subacute center as a night shift nurse. She said one of the ladies kept calling her and told her to shut the kids up because they’re running around and being loud preventing her from falling asleep. Of course, there were no kids.

My mom just went along with it a few times and after working there for 10+ years, she says there’s one wing in the building where the patients all see children running around and making noise keeping them up in the middle of the night every once in a while.”

2. Midnight Calls

“I’m a nurse that worked at a psychiatric hospital for five years. That place was haunted as shit. Police would call us in the middle of the night saying some little girl who identified herself as Satana was calling 911 from a certain extension in the hospital.

That extension? The arts and crafts room. Nobody goes there at night. Nobody. I assure you. Yet there’s obviously something there. And it calls 911 a lot.

Lots of other stories from that place but that’s the craziest, creepiest one.”

3. The Elevator

“A woman I work with tells this story of how she showed up to work early for her shift, around 4:30 a.m., things are pretty much dead quiet (no pun intended) She gets on the empty elevator, hits the button for the 9th floor, elevator goes up to the 11th floor, doors open, no one there, doors close, back down to the 9th floor, as she gets off sees an old woman standing behind her in the elevator.”

4. The Sleep Experiment

“Like most very old hospitals, at one time our hospital was run by nuns. One particular unit had been converted into a sleep study lab area for outpatients tests. One shift in the middle of the night I was watching the video monitor and five patients simultaneously began removing their monitoring equipment. I went into the first room to ask what was going on and the patient said that old nurse with the cap on told her the study was over and that she could leave.

All the patients reported the same story.”

5. Blue Mist

“Worked nightshift at a treatment center.

We had cameras around every corner, nothing was out of our vision.

Blue misty figure would walk the grounds every once in a while at night. I would go out there and there’d be nothing. But on camera, this motherfucker would just walk around all night. Nothing evil, bad, or anything, but this mother fucker would just walk around like he owned the god damn place.”

6. The Little Girl in the Nightgown

“I used to work nights in a domestic violence shelter. The shelter was originally a school. One night I heard a little girl laughing outside of the office. I got up and the girl turned around and ran down the hall. I really thought that she was one of the resident’s; from the back she looked just like her. Except she was wearing a strange layered nightgown. She ran past the room I assumed she was going to, into a living room space. I went in right behind and there was nobody in there.”

7. The Praying Nun

“My dad worked at a mental hospital that used to be connected to an abandoned nun’s home by underground passage. He says that one night he was walking down there when he saw a praying nun. He walked by her and said hello. She did not acknowledge him.

My dad does not believe in ghosts, but he says there was a nun down there that night.”

8. A Friendly Voice

“I work in a restaurant and all the bakery people who stay late talk about the ghost of a little girl but I didn’t know this when I started. It was the middle of the day but we were slow so I was doing prep work by myself in the kitchen. I was at the prep table, kinda zoning out, listening to the distant music when I feel someone right next to me. Like a sudden presence. Then I swear to god I heard, in a little girl’s voice, the most innocent ‘Hi Josh! (My name) How are you?’ I even felt her breath. It was so so real and vivid but when I turned around there was no one there.

I started telling people about it and found out lots of coworkers heard the same voice. From everyone’s stories she (the ghost girl) seems really nice but it still sent chills down my spine.”

9. Nights on the Psych Ward

“I work night shift in psych. I have heard talking when everyone is asleep, footsteps, knocks on doors where nobody should even be, bathroom lights going off as I walk by (both patients were asleep), as well as seeing shadows every now and again. We had a nurse who was doing checks and felt something tug on her shirt.”

10. The Elevator Doors

“I did night security in a very old grain exchange building that had been converted to mainly lawyers offices. A lot of the building was remodeled but the grain exchange floor and vaults had been preserved and at the end of one hallway behind the main lobby I was stationed in there was an elevator that was original to the building that nobody ever used.

I was sitting at the desk one night around 3am when I heard the ding from down the hall that meant someone had called the elevator. There wasn’t suppose to be anyone in the building except me so I switched to that camera feed and the elevator doors were wide open which is only suppose to happen if the call button has been pushed. I wait a few minutes being pretty freaked out but the doors stay open and I never see anybody. The doors are suppose to close on their own shortly and these ones are stuck open. I start to think that someone is in the building and holding the door open button from within where I can’t see on the feed so I have to walk down there to check it out.

As soon as I get near the end of the hallway where I have a clear view of the elevator the doors close. I just kind of stand there feeling really uneasy and decide to head back to the desk and leave a note for the maintenance crew. About 10 minutes after I get back to the desk it happens again. Ding and then the doors roll open. Except I had the feed up so I know that nobody was there to press the call button. I wait and again the doors stay open. So I walk back down there and as soon as I walk into view they close.

There’s still a chance someone is hiding inside pressing the buttons so I go and press the call button myself. And nothing happens. The elevator doesn’t move and the doors don’t open. I press it again and still nothing so not really wanting to deal with that I start walking back to the desk. Get to the end of the hallway and Ding the doors open. I just stood there not really knowing what to do but then I figure since I’m closer maybe I will make it this time so I take off running for the doors before they close and as soon as I get close they close. I don’t think it would be in anyway possible for someone pressing a button inside to be able to time that without me seeing them peeking out so I decide I am done and go back to the desk. Again the ding and the doors open and stay that way but I just ignore it and switch to a different feed.

All is well for about an hour when suddenly there is a loud crash and a rattle and another crash and a rattle again and again. I am absolutely terrified and have no idea what is happening. I start flipping through feeds and get to the one outside the elevator, the doors are slamming shut and opening and slamming shut again and again. It’s like it knows it has my attention again and then the doors slowly reopen and stay there again like it’s tempting me to try and get there before they close again. I do not do that and instead call our patrol officer who is out driving between locations so I have proof of this with someone else. He gets there within 5 min and the doors are still open so once I fill him in we head down together and sure enough as soon as we get close the doors close. He goes and presses the call button and nothing. He’s pretty freaked out too now but we decide to just stay there outside the doors because if it’s just a perfectly timed malfunction it will open again. We stand there for almost a half hour and they never open but he gets a call come in so has to take off. We get halfway back to the desk and hear the doors open behind us. He tells me to go to the desk and watch the feed while he walks down there. Once I’m in place I tell him to go and same thing as soon as he enters the frame the doors close. He starts kicking the doors and pressing the buttons but it doesn’t do any good. He has to leave so he wishes me luck and tells me to just stay away from it. I have about an hour left in my shift when the doors start doing the slamming and opening again. I just stood at the far end of the hallway listening but it didn’t stop.

Took off as soon as the shift ended and left a report for maintenance about the issue. Next shift I worked I showed up early before they had taken off but they said when they got there it was working fine and they didn’t notice anything wrong. That night was quiet and in the rest of the time I worked there only 1 more night did those doors open but I just ignored it and after awhile they closed again and that was that.”

[kim-isnt-seaweed]

Hi. I love your page 🤍 Can you please tell me how does it work to get married in Korea? Thanks Sending lots of love to you, and be safe 🥰

Hii! Thank you!

In what way? Like how do you get married or how it's like being married to someone Korean? I assume it's the ..former(??) First one.

Getting married in Korea has it's difficulties and also parts that are much more simple than in America. I think this is gonna be long so bear with me.

(It is long..sorry!!)

So let's start with a disclaimer. This is just from my experience and those around me, plus what you sometimes see on TV. The very basic generalized idea of how it works.

First, your date then you decide to get married. Like it's really like that, your date then at some point in whatever way you and your partner communicate you decide to get married, together as a couple; by this I mean no surprise proposals or whatever. Then you and your partner and both of your parents meet for the first time for a dinner where you tell them your plans, but this part is kinda fuzzy for me, what I've heard is that the old school traditional way is that you don't meet each other's Parents until this point but IDK how true that is now, I know I met T's parents (even his extended family) very fast even by American standards and T's friend who is engaged has met his GF's parents a few times here and there over the years but nothing official (as in going to family weddings together or spending holidays together something T and I did a lot) but anyway, and then as it happens in dramas some parents might be against it (but also Idk how true it is now if they have so much say in who you marry or not but given how much they have to do and pay for it, I feel like it's still true)

Then..you propose. In Korea, people don't actually propose until you officially know you're getting married. T "proposed" to me a week before we registered our marriage, and another of his friends who is already legally married to his wife will propose to her soon. point is you won't get proposed to until you guys already agreed on getting married. When I explained that in America it's usually a surprise and that is when you say yes or no they were kinda shocked haha

After this comes marriage registration and ceremony. The order in which you do this is up to you really, some people do the ceremony first and some people do the ceremony 3 years later like us haha. For the registration process it's fairly simple you get the required documents I can't remember what they are but yeah, go to the ..ward office ?? ( that's what google translate told me) give the papers, sign them and bara bim bara boom(apparently its bada bing bada boom 🙃) you married !!

Now the ceremony is the hard part. Multiple people have told me "Korean wedding ceremonies are a business" and boy they really are, it's a weird give and take of money between family members and most of it is for your parents and in-laws.

So first, The most important thing you have to do is set the venue, there are tons of wedding venues all over Seoul you just gotta choose one, set the date chose the available time (oh, here weddings are always around noon or early afternoon and last probably less than two hours cause you gotta be out before the next wedding) now if you have the venue you basically have everything else American/Colombian brides stress about: decorations for the ceremony?? You just deal with what the venue has that season (there are multiple halls per venue so the hall you choose does have a specific style though) bouquet?? You just chose from the options they give you. Entrance songs? Also, choose from the list. Dress? If you want the venue can also rent some pretty dresses for you. Studio? If you want you can also choose from a few studios the venue has partnerships with. Makeup & hair? If you want you can also do it at the venue. (All these "if you want" things have an extra cost though but not much more if you did it independently) reception?? Pshhh what's a reception?? In Korea you do the ceremony, take some pictures, people eat at the venue's buffet while you do some traditional ceremony with just the family elders, afterward you greet the guests and leave. So yes, in Korea if you have the venue you do take care of most of the things brides back home worry about a lot. T and I have been over this wedding since before we even did anything for it so we just fucken did everything with the venue haha

Once you get the venue then you pick put the dress and do the photoshoot and whatnot, but that is not the hard part. Now you go around the family elders (especially your father-in-law's family) and tell them the news, then traditionally the bride has to give each of her father-in-law's siblings 1million krw (little less than a 1000 dollars??) But worry not! On the day of the ceremony you get half of it back (don't ask me why not even T gets it) obviously my family being in Colombia where the Peso is like 4 times less than the Won can not afford that, so my FIL helped us out. Another part which is apparently traditional is that your in-laws buy you jewelry (in addition to the rings) I got two pairs of earrings and a necklace with two pendants and that's cause I was basically forced ( don't feel that comfortable getting expensive stuff) and then there's this other tradition where the bride's friends barricade the bride in her house and the groom's friends have to coax her to come out with gifts by the groom, we didn't do that -it's actually not that common anymore- but t did get me a bag, remember that one post about the man feeling like he has to buy expensive shit for his partner? Yeh, we actually went yesterday and when we came home as we were going to sleep he said that he felt very good that he finally got me something expensive.

After you go around the family elders asking them to come (i couldn't go cause I had the flu) you do the invitations. Now when booking the venue you give an estimate of around how many people but its usually always around 200, why? Cause guest lists don't exist!!! "Only family and friends/close ones" is not a thing that is used here. T has to invite his whole station, I have to invite everyone at my work, he has to invite everyone in his badminton club and his parents get to invite whoever the fuck they want because this is about them, not you. My MIL's badminton club is all going, people, my FIL works with we have never seen in our lives and random people my MIL knows from her bar, not to mention that you don't get to say "no plus ones" or "no children" just know random people are also gonna show up haha but that's not even the issue either, it's giving the invitations. That's a whole other protocol that fucks me up, it's not like in the u.s were you just casually give people the invitations like "hey, go to my wedding, k, byeee" nope, you gotta invite people to dinner or at the minimum buy them some coffee and shit..iiif your close, if not Idk man I have no one to invite that I'm not close too but T has to invite like captains and superiors and the poor man is stressing the fuck out. To the people you're not that close to (or have to suck up to...there's a lot of sucking up in Korea from what I've learned), a simple online invitation will be enough haha

Now after the invitations, there are a few other details you gotta arrange like who's going to Mc the ceremony (one of T's friends) the picture table (it's a table with pictures of you two but you gotta pay for those too) who's going to receive the money envelopes, it's usually: a person from the brides family gets the money from the bride's guests and a person from the grooms family gets it from his gets but since my guests are less than 20 and I have no family here, who cares. Then who's going to catch the bouquet, apparently here you just don't throw it at a group of women but you have to ask someone specifically, I asked my coworker. And who's going to sing the congratulatory songs (축하) one of T's friends will sing "아로하" by Jo Jung-suk and my coworkers will perform AOA's heart attack. Oh, the venue also has a photographer, and on the day before the ceremony the bride is always in a little room sitting on a small couch while guests take pictures with her and the groom is greeting guests haha oh oh! The moms wear hanboks throughout the ceremony and the aunts too.

Then you have to get the hanboks for the traditional ceremony. You can rent those but the lady convinced us to let her make ours from scratch although you can still give them back to them to rent them but the lady and my MIL convinced us to buy them. The traditional ceremony 폐백 pyebaek, Idk how it really is because I've never seen one but I've been told you are in traditional Korean clothes, do some things like serving tea, bounce some ..some ...nuts? Circle thingies on a cloth, feed the family elders, and do an on-the-floor bow for each and every one of them while they hand you money and give you marriage advice. Then you go out and greet the guests while they eat and you starve (that's what everyone says) and you leave for your honeymoon. We can't go on an actual honeymoon cause of my work and Corona but we'll spend the weekend somewhere nice.

And...

that's all I think. I don't know if I'm missing anything its 3 am Haha

Anyway, i hope this was at least fin to read haha thank you!! You stay safe too!♡

[fourteen-teacups]

A Night Out - Part 1

This is a modern AU retelling of the Turnadette story, in four parts, centered around a “prop” that I just couldn’t let go. (The “prop” does not appear until part three, however.) Many thanks go to @thatginchygal and @my-little-yellowbird for their encouragement, patience and valuable feedback.

Shelagh Mannion sat in the late summer sunshine in the square outside St Cuthbert’s Hospital. She enjoyed spending her afternoon breaks out here in the fresh air and solitude. Arriving here as a midwife six months ago, she was still struggling to settle in. Although she had quickly found her professional feet on the obstetrics ward, things had not come as easily socially with the other staff on that floor. The senior midwives, Ward Sisters Julienne and Evangelina, had been there almost their entire careers, and although Shelagh was quite experienced in her field she still felt they viewed her as one of the junior nurses. Sister Julienne was kind and an excellent midwife and while she often seemed to behave almost motherly towards her, Shelagh knew there was already much expected of the head nurse and she wouldn’t have time to spare to help the new Scottish girl adjust. The other Sister, Evangelina, was fiercely capable and a force to be reckoned with yet she tempered this with a surprising tenderness for the laboring mothers when the need arose. Shelagh sensed there was much she could learn from this woman professionally, but personally she scared her to death.

The young, student nurses were stylish and witty and exuberant; next to them Shelagh assumed that her shy and somewhat foreign personality was highlighted. She held a higher position than they, essentially in between the veteran and the apprentice staff nurses. The fact that she was responsible for some of their training probably didn’t help her case; they most likely saw her as a advisor rather than a friend. At times she watched daring Trixie, sophisticated Jenny and sweet Cynthia as they as they left the hospital in a flurry, in pursuit of the excitement of a London evening. Left behind in their wake, she realised she didn’t necessarily fit it with that group either.

There were a few doctors on the ward; the main one seemed to practically live there, he covered so many shifts for the other two. Apparently he was a widower and didn’t mind substituting for his coworkers who had to get home to their wives. Early on she had developed a professional respect for him; Dr Turner was an extremely competent obstetrician, had a good rapport with patients and held the midwives in refreshingly high esteem. He even displayed good humour and an astonishing restraint alongside Sister Evangelina; Shelagh couldn’t help but be impressed by that.

Dr Turner also had a little boy, Timothy, who spent a lot of time at the hospital after school and during term holidays. When Timothy wasn’t doing his homework in his father’s office he ran around with his friend Jack. The two boys spent their free time playing in the square, trying to take control of the waiting area’s television or charming snacks from the cafeteria ladies. Shelagh had developed a soft spot for this boy, part mischievous imp and another part wise soul. She knew his unusual combination of traits were a result of losing his mother at so young an age combined with his father’s busy schedule, which left him alone to raise himself at times. She understood him because in some ways she had been him, knowing the early loss of a parent and the necessary development of independence that came with such circumstances. As she folded up the remains of her packed lunch she smiled as she also thought of their differences; she had been a shy, reserved child while Timothy was full of spunk. Looking up she was just in time to see him running up to her now.

“Nurse Mannion!” he shouted. “I’ve caught a caterpillar!” Timothy charged up to her bench with the bug in question cupped in his hands.

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed.

His excitement continued, “I’m going to identify it and make sure I feed it the right leaves. If it’s going to become a moth it will make a cocoon, but butterflies come from a criss-a…” he scrunched up his face, trying to remember the word.

“Chrysalis,” she informed him.

“Yes! That’s it! Akela said I could earn my Nature badge if everything goes well for this little chap.” He settled himself next to her on the garden seat.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll earn your badge, Timothy! Now have you decided where you’re going to keep him?”

“Dad has loads of junk around the flat, I’m sure I can find an old jar or something and make holes in the lid with a nail.”

“Oh dear,” she could well picture their cluttered flat, having observed Dr Turner’s office, “for the time being, what if you used a zip-lock bag from my lunchbox? You can poke a few small holes in it for air.” She rummaged through her bag until she found one that wasn’t too soiled.

His eyes widened with delight. “That would be smashing! Thanks!”

xxxxxxxxxx

Dr Patrick Turner crossed from the hospital to the square in search of his son. As he passed through the small gate he could see Timothy was sitting with Nurse Mannion on the bench closest to the fountain. They were too involved in what looked like a serious task to notice his approach. Pausing, he took a moment to enjoy the enthusiastic mood his boy was clearly displaying. Timothy was talking animatedly and gesturing wildly while the nurse gave him her undivided attention...and his son was eating it up. Choosing to sidestep the guilt this usually brought up, he instead focused on what a gift it was for Timothy. Many of the hospital staff made an effort to keep an eye on his lad, but Nurse Mannion seemed to have forged a connection with him that was more personal and it was a bond that Tim desperately needed. As his father, he was grateful. He should probably thank her, Patrick reflected, but he wasn’t on particularly familiar terms with her. Yes, they worked together quite frequently, and on those occasions she displayed excellent nursing and midwifery skills, but other than that she was quiet and kept to herself. Nevertheless, he reminded himself as he moved toward their bench, that would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

Timothy saw him first, “Dad!” he hollered, brandishing the baggie, “It’s a caterpillar! I can work on my Nature badge for Cubs!” As Tim jumped up, a breeze caught the rest of the rubbish from Shelagh’s lunch, blowing it towards the fountain. Patrick was quick to follow it and swipe it up before it could get much further. He dropped it in a nearby bin on his way back to their seat.

“Greetings, Doctor, and thank you,” Shelagh said quietly, ducking her head as she addressed him.

“It’s me who should be thanking you, Nurse. You’ve become a good friend to Timothy, here.” He noticed her blush a bit as she shook her head and he remembered too late that she had never been one to receive compliments well. He refocused his attention on Timothy, “Let’s see your newest pet, then!”

“Da-ad, it’s not a pet, it’s a science experiment and a Cubs project! And the first thing I’ve got to do is properly identify it so I know what it eats.” He held up his index finger to emphasize his point.

Patrick tilted his head as he responded, “Right then, let’s head to my office and you can use my computer for your research.”

“Brilliant!” Tim headed off towards the gate at a trot, calling over his shoulder, “Bye, Nurse Mannion!”

“Good-bye, Timothy!” she replied with a wave.

Patrick smiled his thanks to her this time before shifting into professionalism, “I’ll see you back on the ward when your break is over. I’d quite like your help explaining the risks of preeclampsia to Mrs Shepherd; oh, and Mrs Davis needs some assistance with breastfeeding, perhaps one of the younger nurses could...?”

“Of course, Doctor; I’ll be there in two ticks. And Nurse Miller has just the right amount of patience to deal with Mrs Davis.” Shelagh answered, feeling much more comfortable as the conversation turned to hospital matters.

He nodded his approval, as well as his farewell, then joined Timothy at the edge of the square, ruffling his son’s hair before helping him and his caterpillar across the street.

xxxxxxxxxx

Trixie entered the hospital tearoom and found the corner table by the window knowing that Cynthia and Jenny would soon be joining her. As she waited she looked out onto the square and as usual could see Nurse Mannion on her favorite bench.

Her two colleagues approached with three teas and a packet of biscuits and as they sat down she sighed her frustration, “I simply don’t know why Shelagh insists on spending her breaks out there alone every day, when I’ve invited her to take tea with us dozens of times!”

“Sometimes a bit of peace is necessary, especially when our work involves so much interaction with others,” Cynthia offered wisely.

“And you’re saying she can’t have peace with us?” Trixie chirped, clearly not understanding such needs. She reached for her tea and swirled the cup, helping it to steep.

“It is disappointing,” added Jenny, “I rather like to get to know the people I’m working with, it makes my shifts pass more quickly,” she joked, “but more importantly I think friendship strengthens working relationships.”

“Well then we’ll just have to keep trying,” Cynthia soothed as she opened the packet of treats, “but we must let her move at her own pace.”

“You’re right, of course,” Trixie conceded, but not without an affectionate eye-roll in Cynthia’s direction, “without you we’d be social barbarians!”

“Oh look,” Jenny interjected, “Dr Turner’s son has just joined her.” She helped herself to a biscuit and offered the tray to her friends.

“They’ve developed quite the friendship,” Trixie noted with a sing-song tone in her voice.

“What are you implying?” Jenny raised her eyebrows in question.

Cynthia sipped her tea before adding quietly, “I think it’s sweet.”

“Well I think she’s sweet on the doctor…” Trixie teased, punctuating her comment with her biscuit, the suggestion in her expression obvious.

“No!” exclaimed Cynthia.

“Oh yes!” Trixie countered, “Haven’t you seen the dreamy look in her eye when he’s in the room? And she blushes whenever he compliments her.”

“She blushes when anyone compliments her,” Jenny reminded as she took another biscuit.

“Fine.” Trixie relented, sweeping some stray crumbs into her napkin. “But did you know she helps him catch up on his paperwork and tidies his desk when he isn’t looking?”

“And has a special interest in his little boy…” Jenny was starting to be won over.

Cynthia remained the voice of reason, “Lots of people here look out for Timothy.”

“Look! Dr Turner just entered the square!” Jenny squealed and three heads snapped back to the window, their repast forgotten for the moment.

“What’s he doing? Oh, picking up some litter.” Cynthia noted.

“Aha!” Trixie crowed.

“What? What is it?” Her friends were at a loss.

“Her eyes were on his derriere the entire time he was retrieving that rubbish!” she triumphed.

“She wouldn’t!” Cynthia was aghast while Jenny nearly choked on her tea.

“Trust me; I have excellent vision and I most certainly know what a girl’s face looks like when she’s admiring her man.” Trixie delivered her news with authority and plenty of cheek.

And with that the three nurses dissolved completely into giggles, drawing questioning glances from the rest of the tearoom.

[astralcaw-blog]

Auras 101: History and Sight

This post is a basic guide to auras. Consider it a 101 class. We will begin by identifying what an aura is, how it’s seen in use through history, and practices that will allow you to learn to see them if you so choose to work for it and learn. I will then talk about my personal methods of seeing auras, and a small introduction into deciphering and discerning the aura.

Let’s Start From The Beginning: What is an Aura?

The most common description of an aura is an electromagnetic field that surrounds the body, most often in an egg shape. I’ve heard claims that we’ve always had the ability to see the aura. We have it as an inherent ability at birth, which is why babies look over our heads. It’s also been believed to be something many saw before modern times, and many claim the best representations of such are portrayed in the “halos” you see in art of holy entities. The connection to the divine is often portrayed through a white (or sometimes purple) light around the head.

I was born and raised Christian, so I’m very familiar with said representations around Jesus Christ, disciples, and saints. 

However in my auric studies, you can also see said halo around other divine figures, of whom I admittedly know less about. Below are examples of this light seen in a depiction of Krishna

and the Buddha

This link (x) talks about how the aura exists on various layers of the energetic body; the physical, the astral or emotional, lower and higher mental planes, spiritual, intuitional, and the absolute plane. They all tie together to make one big blob. (below picture from wikihow)

Here’s a rather standard concept of the varying planes and where they exist in the auric field.

Sources are varied on exactly how the aura appears. @crystalwitch-in-the-tardis​ has informed me some sources claim the aura is commonly extends larger and farther in the back than the front, and the layers closest to the body itself have the densest energy. The further you go out the finer/higher the energy gets, which is why only so much is accessible to “see” with your eyes. Sources I find commonly show the aura as an egg shape, and the shapes I’ll be showing you make the egg shape clear, but doesn’t necessarily obscure the descriptions of the aura mentioned above.

Below you can see the standard “egg” shape that auras are known to take. (pic from REALfarmacy.com)

The trick is the electromagnetic field cannot be seen with the life dulled naked eye. However, many who have “raised their vibrations” or have trained their eyes to see auras on the physical plane. 

So What are These Tricks?

Well, imaginary other half of this conversation, I’m glad you asked! There are... so many. My suggestion would begin by simply sensing. Feeling the energies that someone brings you when you’re in their presence. I have made a post about sensing energies, linked here. 

Below is a diagram to help you feel it yourself as posted by www.psychicstudent.com. With practice of the below method, patience and focus, you can feel the energies of your own aura between your hand pulling on each other. Some feel it as tingles, others as warmth. It’s different for the individual and the energy being sensed. 

A lot of practicing seeing the aura develops from utilizing your peripheral vision. For similar reasons why you’re more likely to see spooks from the corner of your eye, it’s claimed your retina’s are less damaged and able to pick up on the sensitive energies/colors.

It’s also important to know that an items aura often appears as the opposite color of what it is. For example, I’ve seen a blue-green aura around a red traffic light, until it changed, of course. This is why many methods for learning how to see auras suggest a white background. It’s also important to note the blue aura coming off of Phillip could be his orange shirt. Be sure to utilize discernment. My first method for practicing was with the following techniques, which train you how to utilize the peripheral focus needed to see an aura physically. This practice is one I originally was linked to by a friend to this site: https://www.thiaoouba.com/aura_eye_exercise.htm. It’s honestly my favorite outsourced site on this post. If you want to delve into this further please check them out. 

After mastering that one, try out this one. 

(If the words get in the way of practice, simply crop them out)

Another popular method is seeing your aura between your fingers. The following method was one I found on chakra-anatomy.com. 

Begin by sitting down across from the white wall. Your back should be fully supported by a chair, your feet flat on the ground. Connecting to your breath, take a few minutes for relaxation.

Extend one arm, palm facing the wall, fingers together. Soften your gaze as you look at your hand. Hold this soft gaze for 30 seconds and you will begin to see energy field surrounding your hand.

Slowly spread your fingers apart. Continue with the soft gaze looking at your fingers and the space between your fingers. What do you see?

With time and practice, you will begin to see and outline around your hand and around your fingers. At first, it may appear as a heat wave, almost colorless field, later on, you will begin to see different colors of your aura.

Patiently observe. There is nothing to strive for. Just being here, in the moment, focusing softly on the hand, on the fingers, and the space between the fingers.

Now the above method I practiced with a lot, and I was rather irked, because I was at work passing the time practicing with this and I could never see more than I ever could; the thin line of white heat around the skin. I showed a coworker what I was doing and she could do it in under 2 minutes. I was rather bitter, I won’t lie. 

The above method can also be practiced on a white piece of paper on a table.

To read another person, a similar method is used, but instead of looking at the space between your fingers, you’ll be looking at the person. Some suggest looking at the forehead so you can see the aura in your peripherals, other claim to hold a relaxed gaze just above the head and/or shoulders until the colors begin to show up. You can practice this with yourself in a mirror, too. 

But Hawk! This is just physical auras, right? Basically. With these methods, it’s very hard to see the full “egg,” especially at first. I have a friend who is experienced in seeing auras who can get the whole egg by using the below method. In the beginning, you’ll most likely see a simple aura such as the picture below emulates, provided by 7chakracolors.com.

Yes, the above is another finger test to see an aura on your own body. Instead of looking between the fingers on one hand, you’re looking at the space between your two fingers in front of you. 

So how do you see the full egg? Practice. Heck it takes a whole lot of practice with the above methods, and others like them, to be able to even see auras. I know I’ve fallen out of practice and, though I’ve never been able to see a person’s full aura in this way, I have seen the auras of inanimate objects. But I have obtained the ability to see the full egg. But how?

My Method

I never saw the full egg until I started getting into energy work. I had a friend ask me to check on their wards. When trying to explain what I saw, I made up this picture. (This was over a year ago, and the person this was drawn for has since changed and grown in many protections, so this picture isn’t opening up any danger to anybody). 

I’ll be honest I had no idea I was looking at an aura. I learned, however, how to access these patterns on many many people. I called them energy readings and referred to it as their “energetic egg.” I figured if I couldn’t see it with my own two eyes like the above practices, it wasn’t an aura. The thought didn’t even cross my mind. Not until I went to a powwow this summer and met a designated “seer” of a tribe down state. I told her about what I do, especially regarding energetic readings. I mentioned I go and visit this bright egg shaped energy around a person, and she simply corrects me saying, “The Aura.” I was so stunned in that moment. Like... I finally saw someones aura. I’ve been doing it for months at that time. And this task I had been working at for years finally was something I had already grasped. 

So how do I do it?

I ground. I get my bearings about me. I then enter a trance state and focus on another persons energy. This is usually through a taglock like ones name or an image like a selfie. I then focus all of my intention on that image, like I do when I decide to astral travel, and I feel their energy. It branches out into a chord and I can visually ride it to their energetic body, the aura, the egg. From here, I can observe energy centers, aura colors, I can change levels of intent and focus and observe energetic parasites, relationship chords, blockages, emotional damage, and more. 

I have a variety of these services, and more, available by request or at http://www.clairvoyantclove.tumblr.com. 

Deciphering Aura Colors

I’m not going to tell you what each aura color means. You can google that so easily and have a billion different answers come up with some pretty regular inconsistencies. They will mention green means you’re close to earth. Green could also mean you’re nervous, anxious, sick, or you have a really strong heart center that’s bleeding out into many layers of your aura. You see what I’m getting at here?

I’ve learned that it’s important to understand what these colors have the potential to mean, however, once reading ones aura, if the green=nature doesn’t feel right, go back to the original practice of feeling energy. When you are around it, how does it make you feel? Where do you see it coming from? How is it interacting with the person you’re reading? Use these answers to determine what a color means. 

A general rule of thumb I follow is their shade. We can use the green example above. If the green looks like a pukey or vomit green, it could be illness or anxieties. If it’s leafy and lush, it could be a connection to nature. See where we’re going here? The more practice you have the more discernment you’ll learn. Just make sure to learn. Google and Tumblr can only get you so far.

**Extra Note: **Everything people do in the beautiful world in metaphysics, it is required to hold a certain level of discernment, and that level is a lot. A lot of discernment. Know not everything is always as it seems, and learn methods to make sure you know that what you’re looking at is truly what you believe it to be. You can find information countless places on the glory of the internet from energy workers, spirit workers, and others alike. If you have any questions do not hesitate to question myself or your local energy enthusiast.

I will be adding a bit of another disclaimer; this took me years to learn. After about 2 years of practicing hard and trying to see auras, I stopped. I learned meditation and practiced various techniques of meditation and trance states for about 5 years before learning to trance in a way to astral travel, work with energy, and more. Then it took an extra few months before I was reading auras like this. 8 months after starting working with energy before I met the seer. 

If you’re determined to see auras, keep at it, even if the above methods don’t work at first. You’ll make it. You may even find your own way.  

Best of Luck on Your Path

[sky-writes-daydreams]

Damn This Man

A/n: So I had a shit night and I need something to smile about. So I’m posting a work I’ve had done for a while. Let’s see if maybe you guys can make me smile today.

Ardyn Izunia X OC Fluff.

Damn this man. Damn his coworkers too and Damn the cold but most of all damn this cough. That’s all I could think of as hard coughs racked my body and made me clutch at my chest. Being rudely awaken by not being able to breathe lately was getting really old. Ever since I came home from the last hunt Besithia sent me on, this had been happening. My lover told me not to go, that it was a bad idea. I had barely recovered from a cold after all. Now it seemed like he was right. It went straight to my chest and now this was my reality.

As it hit again, I felt strong arms pull me up and a warm hand against my back as the other presses a handkerchief in my hands. I was thankful when I felt myself cough something up. I groaned slightly once it stopped trying to relearn how to breath, hiding it from him.

“Don’t… I already know.” I felt heat rush to my face in anger. Insufferable bastard.

“Keep that up and see if I don’t hit you…”

“I’m pretty sure you couldn’t even knock a pillow over right now…” I growled then which set off another round. He pulled me up against him and I leaned there. It helped. I could breathe for sure but it hurt. I felt him touch the back of my neck and sigh.

“Fever… you need a doctor hon.”

“No I don’t… I can beat this on my own.”

“Skylar I seriously doubt that. You barely beat that cold on your own.”

“Hey I did beat that! I was fine… Just… Stupid cold air.” It was a weak excuse. I didn’t care. Anything to keep me from going to the doctor.

Sadly though, someone else had other plans. Despite the fact it was five in the morning, Ardyn was determined to make me go. I sat up a bit to get my blanket, intending to sleep against his chest, when he slipped off the bed. I looked over worried. He had just gotten back to our room less than an hour ago.

“Babe?” He smiled then. He was just taking off his dress boots.

“Wanted my shoes off.” I smiled then and went to the edge of the bed.

“Oh yeah? Do I get to take the rest off?”

“Maybe. If you’re a good girl.” I stopped then. Even with his boots off ardyn was taller than me and way stronger. Many times he’s picked me up like a sack of potatoes and tossed me on the bed for fun. He got up then and came over. I didn’t think anything of it when he picked me up. I just curled up to his chest smiling looking forward to cuddles.

That got blown all to hell when he started walking. I sat up then and he smiled.

“Go to the doctor and behave and you’ll get whatever you want. Fight me and you’ll sleep alone till you’re better and still have to go to the doctor.”

“Jerk!!! Put me down!”

“So you can run back to bed?”

“Maybe! What's it to you!? I’m fine!” I could feel it. My chest was trying to lock up again. I couldn't get riled up like normal. He noticed.

“No. Skylar, I’m sorry but you’re going.” I couldn’t even growl or try to bite him. I was trying to make sure this pain would ease so I could breathe. I got lost as he walked to the medical ward here in the palace. I had to give them that. These niffs really had some medical knowledge. He let me down once we got there and gave me his scarf to wear. I was pouting hard core but it did help. I buried my face in it then just breathing in his scent. He always smelt warm and like an old fashioned spice market. It was damn addictive for sure.  I saw the main doctor come up and smile at us then.

“Chancellor. What can I do for you?”

“My love is sick… she was rather reluctant to come so I brought her.”

“Tricked is a better word.” The doctor chuckled then.

“I see. Well come with me… Skylar right?” I nodded then.

“I’m Dr. Reid. I’ll check it out. See if he was right to trick you ok?” I gave him a look then and sighed.

“Fine…” He smiled then and we followed him back towards the end. He opened a room and I just wanted to run. I hated it. The medical bed thing, the smell of antiseptic. Ardyn had to practically walk me in and I stole the empty chair in the corner. Dr. Reid just smiled then as he slipped in.

“Don’t like doctors huh?”

“What gave it away?” I muttered and he chuckled.

“The attitude. Relax…. I don’t bite.”

“He does.” I pointed to ardyn then. He was sitting on the table and shrugged.

“You like it.” I gasped then which set off another round. Dr. Reid froze then and sighed.

“You too huh?” I looked up as I got it to stop for a second.

“Too? Who…?” I choked again and started coughing. The doc sat on his stool then and sighed.

“One of Highwind’s men. Had a cold and went hunting. Came in yesterday coughing his head off. His boss wasn’t going to let him work unless he came.” I groaned a bit then.

“Biggs…. He wasn’t looking too good that day. Crap….” The Doctor nodded then and smiled.

“Sounds like you both should have stayed home that day.” I huffed then glaring daggers at Ardyn. Ardyn had this smug look going because he told me to stay home that day. Dr. Reid smiled then as he came close.

“Relax…. Things happen. You’ll get him back.”

“Damn straight I will….” I mumbled. I really was not in the mood for him to be an ass.

The exam went by rather quickly. A few chest x-rays and him listening to my chest led to the diagnoses I dreaded. Bronchitis. I had a feeling but I really was hoping it was not this. While waiting for him to come back from checking the x-rays, I ended up curling up with my head in Ardyn’s lap trying to sleep again. I felt like shit now that he was making me admit it. I was just about to go back to sleep when Dr. Reid walked back in.

“You awake?”

“Barely.” I slowly moved up then and he smiled.

“Good news. It is Bronchitis and we can start the meds now. Bad news…. It’s in the form of two shots.” I froze then trying to rub something out of my eye.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I groaned then and leaned over on ardyn.

“Same arm or seperate?”

“It would be better if it was separate hon…” I whined then kicking my legs. Ardyn laughed a bit and hugged me.

“Come on. Just two shots and then you can go back and sleep.” He gave me a small kiss then and I sighed.

“Fine.” Dr. Reid smiled then.

“Sleep wins over fear?”

“Pretty much cuz he’s going to be my pillow whether he likes it or not.” They both laughed then and his nurse came in. Ardyn got my hand then and I just looked down waiting. I refused to look at all. I felt the pinch then and just waited till the bandage was on there. I moved then to the other side and she smiled.

“Doing pretty good hon.” I just nodded then. Ardyn smiled.

“To think… you can hunt and kill daemons but when it comes to getting shots…”

“Tell anyone else and you’re a dead man. I love you but I will not have anyone else knowing.” I winced then. It hurt more this time.

“Sorry… needle’s a little bit bigger.”

“It’s cool..” I felt it come out and the bandage was over it then. I shuddered relaxing then and She smiled gently.

“It’s ok. You did pretty good. You should have seen some of the soldiers we get in here.” I laughed a bit then. Dr. Reid smiled then as he held out a prescription sheet.

“Give this to the girl at the front desk. She’ll get it ready and then you’re on your way to bed hon.” I nodded taking it then.

“Thanks…. How long before I can hunt again?”

“Until you stop coughing. Could be a week. Could be more.” I groaned again and Ardyn lightly laughed hugging me.

“Relax…. Just means you can harass me during work and finally finish those books. It’s a vacation for you.” I just nodded. I didn’t feel like arguing. We left the room and I let Ardyn take the prescriptions. I curled up in a chair and soon he was beside me. I leaned over and he put his arm over me.

“Hopefully you can sleep after this…”

“I hope. I was having a really nice dream.” I was already close to passing back out. He was so warm and his coat was always soft and with his scarf by my face, I was in perpetual heaven.

“What about?” I smiled then.

“Us…. You were laughing before I got whipped cream on your face at a picnic back home.” I felt him chuckle then.

“That does sound nice…. I do have free time coming. Maybe we can make it happen.” I hummed a bit then smiling. It did sound nice. A little picnic back home in dusace with Ardyn. No more war or demons or gods. Just us. I never felt myself drift off like that.

I was watching her get the prescriptions ready when I felt it. A slight buzz against my arm. I look down and skylar was asleep. I watched and the little buzz happened again as she exhaled. She was snoring slightly. I couldn't help but laugh lightly. She had the uncanny talent of falling asleep on me anywhere. The pharmacist looked over and smiled.

“Guess the shots kicked in huh?”

“I would believe so… she’s been up and down all night.” She cringed then and walked around with the bags.

“Yikes… well maybe she’ll get some sleep now. Um…” I smiled and held out my hand. She smiled then.

“Pills to help fight the infection. Inhaler to help her breathe. Twice a day on pills.Inhalers is as needed but no more than three hits. If she needs help or reacts badly, come on back.”

“Thank you. I assume…?”

“It’s covered. Since she’s on file as your significant other.”

“Ah. Good. Thank you my dear.” I hid them in my jacket then and looked over. She didn't have a tight grip on me. The pharamistict went back to her job as I moved and picked her up. She was only a few inches shorter but so much lighter than one would have thought. She mumbled a bit but didn’t fuss as her head rested against my heart. I walked back carefully with her like that against me.

When I got to our room, she moved a bit. I looked down and soon helped her get the scarf off. It must have annoyed her in her sleep. I laid her down gently on the bed and tucked her in under her favorite blanket when she got my hand. I was going to work on paperwork close by but stopped when I felt that. I looked and her eyes were opened.

“Stay?”

“I’ve got work dear…”

“Please…. Just till I’m totally out? It’s hard to sleep without you near..” She always sounds so young when she's half asleep like this. It gets me everytime. I sigh and checked my watch. It was only 6:45. An hour’s nap with her wouldn't put me behind schedule. I smiled then.

“Alright…. Just this once.” She smiled then and rolled over facing my side of the bed.

“That's what you always say.” I walked over and after dropping my coat and shirt, I got under the covers.

“And yet I always give in… what witchcraft have you worked on me, skylar?” She giggled then curling up next to my arm and hugging it.

“It’s cuz i'm cute.” I laughed lightly then turning over to hold her.

“Cuz you’re cute? Hm…. I’ll buy it for now. Sleep well love.”

“You too… you big bully.” I just smiled then and kissed her head. Damn this woman. She was going to be the end of me for sure.

[gadgetgirl71]

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—

SNEAK PEEKS:

Love For Sale—Whitney Dineen

Even though I don’t devour Hollywood news like a sycophant starlet, I still know who Jonathan Silver is. He’s the head of Ravenswood Films, the movie studio that’s been churning out a crazy-long streak of award-winning films.

“Why does Jonathan Silver want to work with you?” Lucy demands. “And what in the world does he mean by, ‘ready to buy love? ’Are you a madame in disguise?” She sneers the last question in such a way as to suggest that’s the only way someone like Jonathan would choose to work with me.

No one in the office, except for Sky, knows about my talent for matching people to the house that will lead them to true love. It’s not something I advertise and my whole client base comes from word of mouth. One happy customer tells a friend, who tells her sister, and so on. Which leads me to believe that somebody in my Rolodex must know Jonathan Silver.

I smile at Lucy as sincerely as I can before answering, “I have no idea what he meant. I guess I should give him a call and find out.”

The throng around my desk eventually begins to disperse when they realize I’m not going to do that in front of them. The only person who doesn’t leave is my boss, Frederic. The smile on his face radiates nothing short of greed. I assume he’s salivating over the commission we’ll get from whatever house Jonathan buys.

He confirms my suspicions when he says, “Don’t sell him anything under twenty mil. I have four listings right now that you can choose from.”

“Frederic, Jonathan will make up his own mind about which house he wants. I’ll offer to show him your properties, but I can’t guarantee he’ll go for any of them.”

My boss shakes his bald head at me. Frederic looks like a villain from a Masterpiece Theatre show that takes place in Victorian London. He’s short, bald, has a pencil-thin mustache he actually waxes, and his eyes are too close together. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he had a rap sheet a mile long for offenses that include, but aren’t limited to, tying women to train tracks.

“I’m not kidding, Emily. I want you to sell him one of my listings.”

“I’m not kidding either, Frederic. I’ll do my best, but I make no promises.” My boss tolerates my non-deferential attitude, which is good because there’s no way I could fawn all over him like the other girls do. Chris Hemsworth, he’s not.

After Frederic stomps away, Sky scurries over and mouths, “OMG!” Then she leans in and whispers, “Let’s get out of here so we can talk.”

—

Love the One You’re With—Jennifer Peel

“You punched in the wrong code,” I whispered, a bit on edge. I mean, it wasn’t like I was getting ready to sneak into the home of one of the most recognizable women in the country right now. Okay, that was exactly what I was doing.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, darlin’.” Dallas tried the code again to get into Vivian’s gated community. He had the fanciest car of anyone I knew—a Range Rover. And he was more than willing to help in the heist. Not only was he a troublemaker, but he was willing to do anything in the hope that Jake would move out of his place. I’d warned Dallas this was no guarantee that Jake and I were getting back together. In fact, I hadn’t even told Jake about the video yet. I thought maybe I should get the picture back first and then we should talk face-to-face.

“Don’t fuss at him,” Abs scolded me. “You’ll only make him nervous.”

I rolled my eyes. She was sitting in the front with Dallas, and the two had been flirting nonstop on the drive over here.

Dallas flashed Abs a devilish grin. “I’m excellent under pressure,” he drawled.

Even in the dark, I could see Abs blush. “Is that so? Would you like to prove that to me?”

Oh. My. Hello Kitty. I’d started saying that instead of hell when Maribelle was younger because there was nothing like your six-year-old telling your pastor that he gave a hell of a sermon. “Y’all, we are kind of in the middle of something important here. Can we push pause on the flirtation button?”

“I like the sound of pushing buttons,” Dallas said seductively. “Just tell me where.”

Abs giggled.

I threw up my hands and fell back against the seat. “I can’t deal with you two.”

Dallas turned around and pursed his lips together. “Now, darlin’, don’t go acting like someone licked the red off your candy. I got this under control.” Without looking, he reached out of the car window and punched in the code X had given me. The large wrought iron gate began to swing in, allowing us access to one of the glitziest neighborhoods in Nashville—Forest Hills.

“See, darlin’, I got this.”

I blew out a deep breath. I was glad someone had this under control. I didn’t know why I was doing this. If I wanted to, I could have had the picture reprinted and bought a new frame for Jake. It was just that something about Vivian got under my skin. The way she and the show’s producers manipulated those videos was wrong. They were intentionally hurting people’s lives. The lives I cared most about in the world—Maribelle’s and Jake’s. Even if Jake could be insensitive, I still loved the man. He was my first love, my only love.

—

The Love Potion – Excerpt by Becky Monson

It’s going to be a great day.

I believe this. I’m just having a bad moment. That’s all. One moment will not speak for an entire day.

“What’s that smell?” my coworker Josh asks as soon as he sees me. He’s sitting in his black, ergonomic work chair, leaning back, the cuffs of his pin-striped button-up dress shirt pulling taut as he folds his arms.

My heart is hammering in my head, my face feels flushed—even with the cool Phoenix morning—I’m sweating, my bangs are glued to my forehead with perspiration and my glasses are sliding down my nose. It could be this big chunky sweater I’m wearing. I grabbed it to put over my favorite navy dress with the white polka dots. Not even my favorite clothing item can save me from my current . . . predicament.

But it’s fine. It’s going to be fine. I push my large, blue-framed glasses up my nose—the ones my best friend Hazel calls “nerdy-cute”—and set my shoulders straight. Everything is all right. Good, even.

“Seriously, Ally, what is that?” Josh’s face is now scrunched, his light-brown eyes squinting. His extra thick brown hair styled in what can only be called a modern mullet. It’s tall and sort of unruly in the front, and the back is halfway down his neck, the ends curling just behind his ears. It’s the kind of hair that women would want to run their fingers through. I have, actually—I couldn’t help myself.

Josh Wise—never wrong, always wise. That’s how he introduced himself to me when I first started working with him. We were instant friends and not just the work kind. We spend plenty of nonworking time together, too. He’s part of my inner circle now, one of my favorite people.

“Is it bad?” I ask as I sit down in my chair at our shared workspace, the long, double-wide table where my team sits. I open the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet just under my space, putting my purse inside and shutting it with my red patent leather heel–clad foot. I wrap a hand around my long, dark-brown hair and pull it away from my neck, letting the cool air of the office hit it.

Josh crinkles his nose. “I mean . . . it’s not the worst thing I’ve smelled.” He waves his hand in front of his face, as if to ward off the offensive stink.

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[nataliesewell]

transfiguration ;

ISSEI & MC; kiss of revenge. having spent years cultivating the perfect revenge, you find you have no idea who you are beneath all the misery and hatred. you’re no longer the bitter, orphaned teenager you used to be, but you’re not the hardened woman determined to avenge her mother, either. what does that leave? part one.

The clicks of your heels echo down the lengthy corridor. Your head is bowed, perusing through your latest patient’s file. You make to walk past the lobby when you spot Nurse Saomi, talking in warm tones with Nurse Okida. Something niggles at you, something having to do with the young nurse.

Ah, that’s right. Saomi was assigned to your newest patient’s room. You needed to speak to her about that. You change course, pivoting your feet and heading towards her.

When you open your mouth to cut into the conversation, you catch a tendril of it.

“Oh my god, I can’t wait to see that movie!” squeals Saomi. “The posters for Love in Manhattan are everywhere. I see them every time I walk to work!”

Your brows knit together. You don’t remember seeing any posters near the hospital for a movie by that title. Come to think of it, had you seen any movie posters on the way to work?

“The main lead’s my favourite actress!” Okida adds. “It’s coming out next weekend. You want to go see it together?”

“Of course! There’ll be a long line, so we’ll have to come at least an hour earlier.”

“Fine by me. I’ve been waiting for it to come out since forever; I don’t mind waiting around for an hour. There’s a cafe nearby the cinema. Even an arcade, actually.”

Saomi giggles. “An arcade? It’s been so long since I’ve gone to one!”

“Let’s relive our time in high school, ne?” laughs Okida, bumping shoulders with her friend.

Saomi is shaking her head, smile wide and bright, when her gaze meets yours. Her smile wans some, and Okida stops laughing abruptly. They remind you of your classmates in high school when the teacher would enter the classroom.

“Oh, Doctor! I didn’t see you there. Is there anything I can help with?” Saomi asks, tone cheerful but subdued.

You always thought she was friendlier than was considered proper, but now that you’ve observed her with her friend, you know otherwise. So she does reel in her personality in front of coworkers — at least, the co-workers she doesn’t view as friends.

You smile. It’s the smile you’ve perfected in the mirror; light, airy, professional.

“Sorry to disturb the two of you, but yes, I actually need a word with you. About the patient in room 305…”

You blink, stupor interrupted, when you hear Issei call your name. His voice sounds grave. Privately, you curse yourself for allowing your mind to wander. You’re at work; you can’t afford to divide your attention.

You respond, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as faraway as it feels, “Sorry, Doctor, I didn’t hear you. Was it about the surgery?” The file on the patient you’re to operate on is in your hands, open to a black-and-white scan.

Issei frowns. “Are you feeling alright?” he asks, ignoring your question. “I called your name four times at least.”

You run a hand through your hair, looking away. “I’m okay. Thinking about the operation.”

He isn’t convinced. “Are you coming down with something? Come here.” Despite his words, Issei stands up from his chair and begins to advance on you.

You sputter, trying in vain to ward him off, “Doctor, really, that isn’t necessary —”

The back of his hand touches your forehead anyway. Issei frowns. “Your temperature is fine,” he murmurs. “Is something… bothering you?” He sounds awkward. He looks awkward; he isn’t used to expressing concern over someone who isn’t a patient.

Still, Issei is trying. He has been ever since the relationship between the two of you was given a name. It’s strange, thinking of him as your boyfriend. To know you even have a boyfriend after twelve years of holding people at arm’s length.

You smile. Not a practiced one, but not a real one either. It’s small and brittle. Oh, it’s nothing, you want to say. The words don’t leave your lips.

You want to be truthful with Issei. You don’t want to hold him at arm’s length. And maybe you want to talk about this to someone who matters to you.

“There’s this movie,” you begin clumsily. “It’s popular, apparently. I heard Nurse Saomi and Nurse Okida talking about it the other day.”

Issei blinks. “A… movie?”

Now that you’ve started talking, you can’t stop. “Supposedly there’s posters everywhere for it, but I’ve never seen them. I bus to a station near here, every day, and walk from there to the hospital. How have I never seen the posters?”

He furrows his brows. “So you’re bothered by the fact that you… haven’t seen these movie posters?”

“It’s not that,” you snap, frustrated that you can’t explain yourself properly. “It’s — for twelve years, I never went to - to see a movie, or gossip about celebrities, and I just…” You lose momentum when you see Issei’s face. He’s taken aback by you unloading your thoughts like this, with no segue into the subject.

You can feel your neck flushing in embarrassment. "Nevermind,” you say. “We have a surgery to prep for. Let’s focus on that.”

Issei purses his lips, as if he wants to object. You’re not sure whether you want him to press the matter or brush it off. But it doesn’t matter what you want, because he nods and opens the file in his hands.

“Right,” he says. And the conversation is dropped.

A morning full of surgeries behind you, you head to the cafeteria for your lunch break. You’re not the type to be upbeat and cheerful, but your shoulders are slumped and your steps drag.

You don’t think anyone will notice, or care. You are wrong.

“Now where’s that gorgeous smile I love to see on your face, hmm?” says a familiar voice. You turn to see Narumi, a grin on his lips and his hands in the pockets of his labcoat.

“I’m just a little tired,” you say, joining the cafeteria line.

Narumi follows you, a skeptical brow raised. “That doesn’t usually put you in a bad mood.”

You scoff. “I am not in a bad mood.”

“It’s written all over your face.” Does it really? You touch your cheek, wondering. Narumi clicks his tongue. “I stand corrected.”

You lower your hand. “It doesn’t matter,” you say.

“Of course it matters,” he argues. “You should go home tonight and watch your favourite movie. Eat some chocolate. Draw a bubble bath. Whatever helps you relax. That always puts me in a better mood.”

Whatever helps you relax, he says, as if the answer should be easy. The only thing you can think of is drinking until you’re pleasantly drunk, but you only did that when memories of your mother were particularly crushing.

“Thank you for the suggestion,” you say.

Narumi shakes his head. “You’re welcome.” He looks put off. Not annoyed, or angry. Resigned. As if he is dealing with a pet whose antics he’s grown accustomed to.

You aren’t in the mood to bristle at the analogy, so you turn to face the front of the line. The conversation shifts to something more commonplace. It’s not friendly, but you have always maintained a certain distance with people.

Only Issei has breached that distance, and that’s because your guard had fallen down around him. You are sure your guard won’t be falling for anyone else. Somehow, the knowledge is not as comforting as it used to be.

You enter the office to see Issei occupying a table, his work spread around him. He looks up at the sound of the door clicking closed. “Your shift is over?” he asks.

You nod, somewhat stiff, your conversation from before still on your mind. “Yes, I’m going to head out now. Just wanted to drop by before I did.”

Issei smiles faintly. It makes his tiredness more apparent. “Goodnight, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You think of leaving it at that. You step closer to his table instead. “When are you going to be heading out? Maybe I could stay behind for a bit, and we could go home together.”

He looks down at his work. “This will take a while,” is his vague answer. You get the feeling he won’t be going home tonight. You’re not happy, but it’s not like you can tell him not to. He’s a grown man, even if he does act like he’s still in college with his constant all-nighters.

“Well, get some sleep, alright?” Hesitating, you reach out and rest a hand on his cheek. Issei blinks, taken aback, before leaning into your palm. The gesture is strange, as if he’s not used to doing it. “You shouldn’t work yourself to the bone all the time.”

He stares up at you. You think that’s all he’ll do, until he replies. “I’ll sleep when I can.”

“That’s all I ask.” You run your thumb along his cheek. His stubble scratches your skin. “Goodnight, Issei.”

He sits up straighter at hearing his first name. You smile at him, small, before moving your hand away and turning around.

You’re almost at the door when he calls your name. You look over your shoulder. Issei is playing with his pen, twirling it using one hand.

When he doesn’t say anything, you turn to face him. “What is it?”

“I was wondering. Did you want to…” He pauses, looking deep in thought. The pen stops twirling.

You tilt your head. “Yes?”

Issei looks away. “Nothing. See you tomorrow.”

You nod, even though he’s not looking at you. You aren’t sure what happened, or what it meant. Part of you is too tired to even try deciphering it. “Right. Tomorrow.”

You leave the office without a backward glance. You already know what’s behind you: Issei, with his head once more buried in his books, already having dismissed the conversation.

You wonder what it’s like, not feeling the need to turn every word over and suss out the true meaning beneath it. It feels like that’s all you ever do. Even now, despite your mission being over, when you don’t need to anymore.

Entering your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You drop your purse and slip off your heels. You think of what you need to do: eat dinner, get ready for bed, set your alarm, sleep. You notice the picture frame just as you’re about to pass it by.

You stop in your tracks. Your mother smiles up at you, crow-eyed and radiant, with a younger you standing beside her. She looks happier than you remember being. Feeling.

It was this picture frame that had strengthened your resolve, day after arduous day, when you had been a med student. It had been your reason for waking up. When had you stopped registering it?

You pick it up now, running a thumb over your mother’s wizened face. A lump grows in your throat. “Hey, mom,” you whisper thickly. “I did it. All those years paid off. I got revenge for you.” Your mother continues to smile, serene. “Are you still looking down? Are you proud of what you see?”

Are you proud of me? you want to ask. But the words refuse to leave your lips.

It hurts most to look at the girl standing next to your mother. You can’t hold her gaze for long. That girl was supposed to have a bright future ahead of her. What you are now pales in comparison to the dreams she used to harbour.

It’s as if you’re looking at two ghosts instead of one.

You set the picture frame down and turn away. You skip dinner, heading straight to bed. You’ve lost your appetite.

Your dreams that night are hazy. When you wake up the next day, all you remember is this:

There was a field full of dying flowers. A girl with no face sat among them.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i promised myself i would only write oneshots and drabbles for now, since i can never finish anything longer than that. but seeing as kor is one of my favourite voltage games, and it features one of my favourite mcs, this became longer than a oneshot. hopefully there’s only one more part left. fingers crossed!

also this will be properly edited... soon lmao. just ignore/correct any mistakes you find for now. x)

[jcp-johncarlo]

New video by BRIGHT SIDE on YouTube

25 Traditions Sound Strange to Us But Totally Normal in Other Countries “So many countries, so many customs.” Any jet-setter will agree this good old proverb is true. In the age of globalization, going places has become an essential part of our life. We’re all well aware of the fact that while visiting a foreign country, we must obey certain local traditions and common rules. What would you do if you walked into a bathroom and instead of toilet paper, you found a bowl of water? And no instructions either! Or, what if warding off bad luck meant talking to birds at the park? Sure, these things may seem wacky to you, but they’re pretty normal customs in other countries. And some actually sound pretty fun! Other videos you might like: 15 Examples of Japanese Etiquette That Will Drive You Crazy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SR-H7yr9Ceo& 18 Photos You Won't Find in History Books https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Jpr25wwsEk& 15 Strange Things That Seem Normal Only In South Korea https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fT0xEelCd-I& TIMESTAMPS: Thousands of people, thousands of tomatoes 0:23 “Happy Birthday, now shove your face in this cake!” 0:51 Talk to Magpies 2:20 Don't present yellow roses in Mexico 3:10 When running late isn’t a problem 4:31 The Groundhog Day tradition 4:51 Throwing furniture out the window 5:55 Walking a block with the empty luggage 6:31 Head to the sauna with coworkers 6:56 Dirty left hand 7:19 No toilet paper 7:45 The Monkey Buffet Festival 8:24 In Hungary, no one clinks glasses 9:21 Newlyweds who don’t use the bathroom at all 9:50 Out of control Cheese wheel 11:08 #weirdtraditions #strangetraditions #strangecustoms Music by Epidemic Sound http://bit.ly/1NOjjY3 SUMMARY: - In Germany, if you’re 25 and single, your friends will often lead you to your birthday party with a string of old socks as you celebrate with drinks. - In the States, “pull my finger” is a risky - smelly - game. But in Scandinavia Austria, and Bavaria, Germany, finger pulling (or Fingerhakeln) is a competitive sport! - If you’re going on vacation and want to leave with as many good vibes as possible, sit down with your household first before you head out the door. In Russia, they believe that doing this ensures you have a good trip and wards off bad luck. - In Denmark, if it’s your 25th birthday or higher and you’re still single, your friends and family throw handfuls of cinnamon at you. - If you were to spit at your boss or a family member when you greeted them, it’d be considered pretty darn rude. But in the Maasai tribe in Kenya and northern Tanzania, spitting into their hands before a handshake is considered appropriate and respectful. - You might gift newlyweds with some sparkling new china, but in Germany, family and friends actually break dishes the night before a wedding! - In Venezuela, the early bird doesn’t necessarily get the worm. There, running late isn’t a problem the way it is in the US and other countries. When it comes to parties or even work meetings, arriving a few minutes late isn’t considered rude. - In South Africa, the tradition of chucking chairs, tables, and whatever furniture out the window onto the street for the New Year has been going strong since the end of apartheid. - Even if you’re naturally a leftie, using this hand is considered pretty rude in a lot of Middle Eastern countries. This is because the left hand is the designated “cleaning hand” in the bathroom and, therefore, it’s the dirty one. - f your biggest fear is doing your business in a restroom that’s run out of toilet paper, well…you might have some problems when visiting India. That’s because in most parts of this country, instead of toilet paper, people use water to cleanse their, uh, private areas. - In Thailand, there are tons of stray monkeys hanging around. And once a year in Lopburi, Bangkok, people dump over 6,600 pounds (3,000 kg) of fruits and veggies out for the little guys to munch on in what’s referred to as the Monkey Buffet Festival. - While we consider it bad luck to see the bride before the big day, people in Tidong, Indonesia believe using the toilet 3 days after the wedding is bad luck. - Americans are used to having copious amounts of ice in their drinks. But in many places in Europe, having little or no ice at all is the norm. - If you ever visit Fiji, you’ll likely be greeted by a cocktail containing juice from squeezed roots served in a wooden bowl known as Kava. And apparently, it has, shall we say “psychoactive effects.” Subscribe to Bright Side : https://goo.gl/rQTJZz ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Our Social Media: Facebook: http://bit.ly/1NR4JJP Instagram: http://bit.ly/2pDikkf 5-Minute Crafts Youtube: http://bit.ly/2pNb6gr Photos: http://bit.ly/23rGg9b East News ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For more videos and articles visit: http://bit.ly/2d8ayZz

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[wellmeaningshutin]

Short Story #21: Love #2.

Written: 1/15/2017

He felt like his girlfriend was loving him less and less, so to keep the magic alive he decided to mix his love for her with his profession, and thus the puppet was created. He worked as a puppet maker for a popular children's show that was very inspired, to the point of it getting accused of ripping off, Sesame Street. He was used to making at least one or two new ones a week, and was moderately respected, but he felt his girlfriend didn’t like this job, so in a way the puppet of her was also an attempt to bring her into the world of his. He was proud of his creation, and although his friends and coworkers didn’t have much to say about it, and they often looked uncomfortable, he could tell they envied his skill and his love. His love was of a strength that they could never feel, for he was pure of heart, and the puppet was a symbol of that, a physical representation of how deeply he could love.

The thing wasn’t enough for him, so he decided to add a letter with it, folded it until it was as small as it could be, and then stuffed it in the things mouth. The letter read:

My love for you is endless, it is time itself, could you know how deep it runs, into the energies of creation that made the universe? There are primordial forces of the world-I once read-that embody every aspect of humanity that runs through the unseen worlds, like ley lines, and I feel as if I am sensitive to these forces. When we first met I must of been positioned in the one of love, for my passions for you were sparked like none other, and I knew you had to share these feelings, you had to feel the same way for we were both in the embrace of the energy of pure love, and although as you’ve been outside of that line, and because you’re not as sensitive as me and thus can’t retain these forces as strongly, I have made this as a conduit, so you can always have your love restored when you touch it, and I hope you’ll touch it forever! Oh how my heart beats for you, and even as I [several words are blotted out by tear stains] like it will rip out of my chest, a love so wild thats hard to conquer like those wild stallions you love so much, but I’m strong enough to bear it, hold it in, and I have mastered that love, for I couldn’t die without you! I feel as if before we were born, when we were in the unseen world, our spirits must have touched in the lines of love, and so that first time we saw each other the embrace of those aspects were greatly expanded, because it brought back those memories of when we loved in that past life! And I feel like, no. I KNOW that we shall never be apart, you will always be in my soul, and we will never die and leave each other alone, because we will die at the same time, our souls joining together to return to that unseen world that we must have belonged to! Oh! Our love will be like a song sung for eternity, it will become love itself because thats all it is! Pure love, pure pure pure [the rest, about a second paragraph, is illegible due to tear stains]

He decided to put the idol in a box, wrapped it in paper of his love’s favorite color, and topped it with a bow colored like his own, a symbol of their union. Before he went to the restaurant for their date that night he decided to dress up well, borrowing, from his mother, the tuxedo that his grandfather married his grandmother in, he made sure his hair was stylish and parted down the middle, his glasses polished. The corner store was visited on the way to his date, since he had to make sure that he was well prepared for the night ahead, so he bought two boxes of condoms. He figured they would make love so rapturously that it would feel like their bodies would meld together, and when the greasy man behind the counter gave him a wink, he was sure the man could sense the love inside.

So he arrived at the restaurant, a simple chain burger joint, he made sure he was 30 minutes early, to show respect for his soul mate, and sat and waited, twiddling his thumbs, staring at his box every now and again, and drinking only a ginger ale so the waiter would get off his back. Who was that strong jawed man to look down on him? He was probably jealous, like many were, that he had the rare gift of being able to hold love in its purest form. When his girlfriend was running 20 minutes late he decided to order appetizers to further appease his harasser, but made no move to eat them until his love had arrived.

When she did walk in to the restaurant, in that elegant stride he loved so much, he began to sense something wrong when she showed up with that guy, and by the angry expression on her face when her eyes were laid on him. Why did she keep on her work outfit? It bothered him a little that she didn’t dress up like he did, but it was no problem, because in anything she wore she was still radiant, because of the love they both shared. The man at her side was dressed like a barbarian, wearing a simple leather jacket, some t-shirt displaying a band of low taste (especially since music was the lowest form of arts, simply crude, unlike classical paintings or puppetry), and his jeans, ha! He didn’t even want to talk about the mans jeans, for even wearing them in the first place was a huge mistake. He was surprised that this fowl man wasn’t laughed out of the restaurant! When his love and that crude man approached the table he elegantly waved over the appetizers, showing that they were there waiting for her, and how he hadn’t even dared to take a bite, for he cared for her more than himself!

“Oh, I don’t like crab cakes. I’m good” She said as she sat down into the booth, oh how his heart wanted to split in two! How could he make such a mistake about her? Was she unhappy, was she thinking that this showed he didn’t care about her? Or was it, like always, a test?

“Thanks man,” the caveman had said, reaching over to grab one while securing the other, brutish arm around his love. It made his blood boil to see such a fowl act committed by this man! Who was he anyways? Didn’t he know that the meal was intended to nourish his love, to show her that he wanted to keep her pleased and happy? And why didn’t his girlfriend object to these fowl acts, and, again he wondered, who was this man, why was he here? As the man put the appetizer in his mouth, a look of displeasure came across his face. “Oh, these are cold…”

He could not control his temper, so with one quick strike he slammed a fist onto the table. Then, while trying to keep his composure in front of the fair maiden, through gritted teeth he responded, “What problem is it to you, I simply got them as a token of love for my girlfriend. It is not your place to-”

The sentence could not be continued when he saw the look of anger shoot across his girlfriend’s face, and, although it confused him, he watched her divine lips form and expel the words, “Dude, you have to cut this shit out! I told you several times that we are not, and never were, dating! How the hell am I supposed to get this across to you?!” He couldn’t understand, maybe she meant that their relationship wasn’t as real as it was about to come, and they would finally step it up into a new level of love? “This is my boyfriend,” she gestured her head towards the beast who had her in his grip, “now that you see him can you finally leave me alone? He’s real, I love him, and I never had, and never will, love you.” That last word held a shocking amount of contempt. What was she saying, maybe she was testing him? Or was this brute abusive and forcing her to say these things, while all the while she didn’t mean what she said, and only meant so out of fear? The man was crude so it was possible, and how badly had he been treating her? Was her warning a pleading cry for help, a coded message so she could be saved from the beatings, and-this he hated to think about but seemed possible-rapings that she probably endured? “I seriously need you to leave me alone! I don’t know how you even got the idea that we were together in the first place!” Hm, more lies probably prewritten by the brute. That’s probably why the man had his arm around the delicate maiden, to keep her from running, like a dragon guarding a princess in her tower! “And what is this?” She pointed to him and the present that was sitting on the table. “Why are you dressing up like this for some crummy restaurant? Why can’t you see that this is off putting? Who thinks this is a reasonable thing to do?” This one was confusing at first, but he realized his outfit might not be sending the right message. He was only trying to show her that he loved her so, but maybe she wanted him to dress up nicer, to dress to the strength of his love, maybe that was what she required to leave the grasp of that awful man, like how a crucifix was used to ward off the unholiness of demons and vampires, only a symbol of true love could ward off a sham one! “And why did you bring a gift? You have to understand how creepy this is for me, right? Please tell me you can understand.”

He nodded, knowing all to well what she was trying to say. She had to pretend to be displeased so it wouldn’t seem like she was to eager to receive it, mind games to trick the beast, and when he was unsuspecting, and she would open it, the idol would ward him off for it would be radiant with pure love. So, with one hand he slid it over to her and quietly said, “I understand what you’re saying, and I feel as if this would clear everything up.” He ended  the sentence with a wink and folded his hands into his lap, hoping at least, before the brute was warded off, that he could teach it a thing or two about being civilized.

She looked unsure, a little afraid, and looked over to her captor for support. He looked uneasy but nodded, suggesting that she should probably open it, securing his arm even tighter around her. Ha! The beast thought he was in control of the situation while he was just falling for their trap! He wanted to wink again at his love but he knew that he had to play it cool or she may be dragged back to his den, probably filled with drug needles and pornography. Reluctantly, probably worried that her captor would smell the trap, she tore off the wrapping paper, opened the box, and pulled out the puppet that he had made to resemble her, and he waited for it to ward off that savage, but it never worked. Instead the beautiful thing sat there on the table, and his girlfriend just sat there in shock, the brute still firmly held his grip on her. Maybe she was crying because their plan didn’t work, so he had to think fast. “Look in the mouth there… there’s a letter that should clear things up!”

After slowly unfolding and reading the letter, she could only, through tears, look up and ask “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Confused at first he sat there trying to understand these words, but eventually he found their meaning: he simply hadn’t proved enough how much he loved her, so he must try again later to save her. The savage took her away, holding onto her as she sobbed, probably because she was returning to a life in captivity, and when they disappeared, outside the restaurant, he stared at the idol and wondered where things went wrong.

His waiter asked if he wanted a check, but instead he ordered two burgers, since he could not leave from the spot. He sat there, slowly eating, with the puppet sitting across from him, wondering what he should do next to win back her love. Well, he wondered if he had to win it back, for it was unthinkable that she couldn’t feel the same way about him, so he was at a loss. And as he ate and stared at the puppet he realized his fatal mistake, and what a fool he’d been for not seeing it before! The puppet was too pure a symbol for his love, and in the attempt to fill it with pure love he realized that he must have filled it with too much, and the idol had actually become her! His real girlfriend was imprisoned in the puppet, and the one that he saw at the restaurant had to be an empty shell, what a fatal error in communication he had made! She didn’t want him to expose the gift to ward off the man, because it was the gifts fault that she let herself be imprisoned by the brute. He had to break it to return her to her true self, so they could finally be together as they were meant to! He quickly paid his bill, got a takeout box for the second burger (his love would probably be hungry when she was returned to her real body), got in his car, and sped over to her house to prove himself.

The tricky thing about her neighborhood was that the neighbors would yell at him if he was noticed, often threatening to call the police but he knew they acted only in jealousy! Their lives were probably empty, so to see him with his love was probably maddening for them. He had to park a block down, and he quietly, but briskly, walked to her house. A man came out to yell at him but he only broke into a sprint, and when he was in front of her beautiful dwelling he dropped the puppet on the lawn, got some matches out of his pocket, and began calling her name. He let the neighbors yell and threaten, because he knew that when he returned her love she would tell them to all go away!

[myhauntedsalem]

Graveyard Shift Workers Share Their Eeriest Encounters with the Supernatural

When the sun goes down, things can get a little creepy. Graveyard shift workers from around the globe have been sharing their spookiest supernatural encounters whilst on the job. From hospitals where death and the recently departed stalk the corridors to security guards who soon discover they are not alone in the empty buildings they guard. After reading these true-life ghost stories you’re about to gain a whole new appreciation for all the brave men and women who work the night shift.

During the long midnight hours, the things that go bump in the night are not always just figments of an overactive imagination, as the following people learned the hard way.

1. They Play at Night

“My mother used to work at a subacute center as a night shift nurse. She said one of the ladies kept calling her and told her to shut the kids up because they’re running around and being loud preventing her from falling asleep. Of course, there were no kids.

My mom just went along with it a few times and after working there for 10+ years, she says there’s one wing in the building where the patients all see children running around and making noise keeping them up in the middle of the night every once in a while.” —notyouravgjane

2. Midnight Calls

“I’m a nurse that worked at a psychiatric hospital for five years. That place was haunted as shit. Police would call us in the middle of the night saying some little girl who identified herself as Satana was calling 911 from a certain extension in the hospital.

That extension? The arts and crafts room. Nobody goes there at night. Nobody. I assure you. Yet there’s obviously something there. And it calls 911 a lot.

Lots of other stories from that place but that’s the craziest, creepiest one.” – sensicle

3. The Elevator

“A woman I work with tells this story of how she showed up to work early for her shift, around 4:30 a.m., things are pretty much dead quiet (no pun intended) She gets on the empty elevator, hits the button for the 9th floor, elevator goes up to the 11th floor, doors open, no one there, doors close, back down to the 9th floor, as she gets off sees an old woman standing behind her in the elevator.” – Tjah

4. The Sleep Experiment

“Like most very old hospitals, at one time our hospital was run by nuns. One particular unit had been converted into a sleep study lab area for outpatients tests. One shift in the middle of the night I was watching the video monitor and five patients simultaneously began removing their monitoring equipment. I went into the first room to ask what was going on and the patient said that old nurse with the cap on told her the study was over and that she could leave.

All the patients reported the same story.” – Dhubler91

5. Blue Mist

“Worked nightshift at a treatment center.

We had cameras around every corner, nothing was out of our vision.

Blue misty figure would walk the grounds every once in a while at night. I would go out there and there’d be nothing. But on camera, this motherfucker would just walk around all night. Nothing evil, bad, or anything, but this mother fucker would just walk around like he owned the god damn place.” – rastapasta9

6. The Little Girl in the Nightgown

“I used to work nights in a domestic violence shelter. The shelter was originally a school. One night I heard a little girl laughing outside of the office. I got up and the girl turned around and ran down the hall. I really thought that she was one of the resident’s; from the back she looked just like her. Except she was wearing a strange layered nightgown. She ran past the room I assumed she was going to, into a living room space. I went in right behind and there was nobody in there.” — chicknlil

7. The Praying Nun

“My dad worked at a mental hospital that used to be connected to an abandoned nun’s home by underground passage. He says that one night he was walking down there when he saw a praying nun. He walked by her and said hello. She did not acknowledge him.

My dad does not believe in ghosts, but he says there was a nun down there that night.” – gmen1080

8. A Friendly Voice

“I work in a restaurant and all the bakery people who stay late talk about the ghost of a little girl but I didn’t know this when I started. It was the middle of the day but we were slow so I was doing prep work by myself in the kitchen. I was at the prep table, kinda zoning out, listening to the distant music when I feel someone right next to me. Like a sudden presence. Then I swear to god I heard, in a little girl’s voice, the most innocent ‘Hi Josh! (My name) How are you?’ I even felt her breath. It was so so real and vivid but when I turned around there was no one there.

I started telling people about it and found out lots of coworkers heard the same voice. From everyone’s stories she (the ghost girl) seems really nice but it still sent chills down my spine.” — bnksy420

9. Nights on the Psych Ward

“I work night shift in psych. I have heard talking when everyone is asleep, footsteps, knocks on doors where nobody should even be, bathroom lights going off as I walk by (both patients were asleep), as well as seeing shadows every now and again. We had a nurse who was doing checks and felt something tug on her shirt.” — Umbra12

10. The Elevator Doors

“I did night security in a very old grain exchange building that had been converted to mainly lawyers offices. A lot of the building was remodeled but the grain exchange floor and vaults had been preserved and at the end of one hallway behind the main lobby I was stationed in there was an elevator that was original to the building that nobody ever used.

I was sitting at the desk one night around 3am when I heard the ding from down the hall that meant someone had called the elevator. There wasn’t suppose to be anyone in the building except me so I switched to that camera feed and the elevator doors were wide open which is only suppose to happen if the call button has been pushed. I wait a few minutes being pretty freaked out but the doors stay open and I never see anybody. The doors are suppose to close on their own shortly and these ones are stuck open. I start to think that someone is in the building and holding the door open button from within where I can’t see on the feed so I have to walk down there to check it out.

As soon as I get near the end of the hallway where I have a clear view of the elevator the doors close. I just kind of stand there feeling really uneasy and decide to head back to the desk and leave a note for the maintenance crew. About 10 minutes after I get back to the desk it happens again. Ding and then the doors roll open. Except I had the feed up so I know that nobody was there to press the call button. I wait and again the doors stay open. So I walk back down there and as soon as I walk into view they close.

There’s still a chance someone is hiding inside pressing the buttons so I go and press the call button myself. And nothing happens. The elevator doesn’t move and the doors don’t open. I press it again and still nothing so not really wanting to deal with that I start walking back to the desk. Get to the end of the hallway and Ding the doors open. I just stood there not really knowing what to do but then I figure since I’m closer maybe I will make it this time so I take off running for the doors before they close and as soon as I get close they close. I don’t think it would be in anyway possible for someone pressing a button inside to be able to time that without me seeing them peeking out so I decide I am done and go back to the desk. Again the ding and the doors open and stay that way but I just ignore it and switch to a different feed.

All is well for about an hour when suddenly there is a loud crash and a rattle and another crash and a rattle again and again. I am absolutely terrified and have no idea what is happening. I start flipping through feeds and get to the one outside the elevator, the doors are slamming shut and opening and slamming shut again and again. It’s like it knows it has my attention again and then the doors slowly reopen and stay there again like it’s tempting me to try and get there before they close again. I do not do that and instead call our patrol officer who is out driving between locations so I have proof of this with someone else. He gets there within 5 min and the doors are still open so once I fill him in we head down together and sure enough as soon as we get close the doors close. He goes and presses the call button and nothing. He’s pretty freaked out too now but we decide to just stay there outside the doors because if it’s just a perfectly timed malfunction it will open again. We stand there for almost a half hour and they never open but he gets a call come in so has to take off. We get halfway back to the desk and hear the doors open behind us. He tells me to go to the desk and watch the feed while he walks down there. Once I’m in place I tell him to go and same thing as soon as he enters the frame the doors close. He starts kicking the doors and pressing the buttons but it doesn’t do any good. He has to leave so he wishes me luck and tells me to just stay away from it. I have about an hour left in my shift when the doors start doing the slamming and opening again. I just stood at the far end of the hallway listening but it didn’t stop.

Took off as soon as the shift ended and left a report for maintenance about the issue. Next shift I worked I showed up early before they had taken off but they said when they got there it was working fine and they didn’t notice anything wrong. That night was quiet and in the rest of the time I worked there only 1 more night did those doors open but I just ignored it and after awhile they closed again and that was that.” – GrowTallInTheTrees

[myhauntedsalem]

Graveyard Shift Workers Share Their Eeriest Encounters with the Supernatural

When the sun goes down, things can get a little creepy. Graveyard shift workers from around the globe have been sharing their spookiest supernatural encounters whilst on the job. From hospitals where death and the recently departed stalk the corridors to security guards who soon discover they are not alone in the empty buildings they guard. After reading these true-life ghost stories you’re about to gain a whole new appreciation for all the brave men and women who work the night shift.

During the long midnight hours, the things that go bump in the night are not always just figments of an overactive imagination, as the following people learned the hard way.

1. They Play at Night

“My mother used to work at a subacute center as a night shift nurse. She said one of the ladies kept calling her and told her to shut the kids up because they’re running around and being loud preventing her from falling asleep. Of course, there were no kids.

My mom just went along with it a few times and after working there for 10+ years, she says there’s one wing in the building where the patients all see children running around and making noise keeping them up in the middle of the night every once in a while.” —notyouravgjane

2. Midnight Calls

“I’m a nurse that worked at a psychiatric hospital for five years. That place was haunted as shit. Police would call us in the middle of the night saying some little girl who identified herself as Satana was calling 911 from a certain extension in the hospital.

That extension? The arts and crafts room. Nobody goes there at night. Nobody. I assure you. Yet there’s obviously something there. And it calls 911 a lot.

Lots of other stories from that place but that’s the craziest, creepiest one.” – sensicle

3. The Elevator

“A woman I work with tells this story of how she showed up to work early for her shift, around 4:30 a.m., things are pretty much dead quiet (no pun intended) She gets on the empty elevator, hits the button for the 9th floor, elevator goes up to the 11th floor, doors open, no one there, doors close, back down to the 9th floor, as she gets off sees an old woman standing behind her in the elevator.” – Tjah

4. The Sleep Experiment

“Like most very old hospitals, at one time our hospital was run by nuns. One particular unit had been converted into a sleep study lab area for outpatients tests. One shift in the middle of the night I was watching the video monitor and five patients simultaneously began removing their monitoring equipment. I went into the first room to ask what was going on and the patient said that old nurse with the cap on told her the study was over and that she could leave.

All the patients reported the same story.” – Dhubler91

5. Blue Mist

“Worked nightshift at a treatment center.

We had cameras around every corner, nothing was out of our vision.

Blue misty figure would walk the grounds every once in a while at night. I would go out there and there’d be nothing. But on camera, this motherfucker would just walk around all night. Nothing evil, bad, or anything, but this mother fucker would just walk around like he owned the god damn place.” – rastapasta9

6. The Little Girl in the Nightgown

“I used to work nights in a domestic violence shelter. The shelter was originally a school. One night I heard a little girl laughing outside of the office. I got up and the girl turned around and ran down the hall. I really thought that she was one of the resident’s; from the back she looked just like her. Except she was wearing a strange layered nightgown. She ran past the room I assumed she was going to, into a living room space. I went in right behind and there was nobody in there.” — chicknlil

7. The Praying Nun

“My dad worked at a mental hospital that used to be connected to an abandoned nun’s home by underground passage. He says that one night he was walking down there when he saw a praying nun. He walked by her and said hello. She did not acknowledge him.

My dad does not believe in ghosts, but he says there was a nun down there that night.” – gmen1080

8. A Friendly Voice

“I work in a restaurant and all the bakery people who stay late talk about the ghost of a little girl but I didn’t know this when I started. It was the middle of the day but we were slow so I was doing prep work by myself in the kitchen. I was at the prep table, kinda zoning out, listening to the distant music when I feel someone right next to me. Like a sudden presence. Then I swear to god I heard, in a little girl’s voice, the most innocent ‘Hi Josh! (My name) How are you?’ I even felt her breath. It was so so real and vivid but when I turned around there was no one there.

I started telling people about it and found out lots of coworkers heard the same voice. From everyone’s stories she (the ghost girl) seems really nice but it still sent chills down my spine.” — bnksy420

9. Nights on the Psych Ward

“I work night shift in psych. I have heard talking when everyone is asleep, footsteps, knocks on doors where nobody should even be, bathroom lights going off as I walk by (both patients were asleep), as well as seeing shadows every now and again. We had a nurse who was doing checks and felt something tug on her shirt.” — Umbra12

10. The Elevator Doors

“I did night security in a very old grain exchange building that had been converted to mainly lawyers offices. A lot of the building was remodeled but the grain exchange floor and vaults had been preserved and at the end of one hallway behind the main lobby I was stationed in there was an elevator that was original to the building that nobody ever used.

I was sitting at the desk one night around 3am when I heard the ding from down the hall that meant someone had called the elevator. There wasn’t suppose to be anyone in the building except me so I switched to that camera feed and the elevator doors were wide open which is only suppose to happen if the call button has been pushed. I wait a few minutes being pretty freaked out but the doors stay open and I never see anybody. The doors are suppose to close on their own shortly and these ones are stuck open. I start to think that someone is in the building and holding the door open button from within where I can’t see on the feed so I have to walk down there to check it out.

As soon as I get near the end of the hallway where I have a clear view of the elevator the doors close. I just kind of stand there feeling really uneasy and decide to head back to the desk and leave a note for the maintenance crew. About 10 minutes after I get back to the desk it happens again. Ding and then the doors roll open. Except I had the feed up so I know that nobody was there to press the call button. I wait and again the doors stay open. So I walk back down there and as soon as I walk into view they close.

There’s still a chance someone is hiding inside pressing the buttons so I go and press the call button myself. And nothing happens. The elevator doesn’t move and the doors don’t open. I press it again and still nothing so not really wanting to deal with that I start walking back to the desk. Get to the end of the hallway and Ding the doors open. I just stood there not really knowing what to do but then I figure since I’m closer maybe I will make it this time so I take off running for the doors before they close and as soon as I get close they close. I don’t think it would be in anyway possible for someone pressing a button inside to be able to time that without me seeing them peeking out so I decide I am done and go back to the desk. Again the ding and the doors open and stay that way but I just ignore it and switch to a different feed.

All is well for about an hour when suddenly there is a loud crash and a rattle and another crash and a rattle again and again. I am absolutely terrified and have no idea what is happening. I start flipping through feeds and get to the one outside the elevator, the doors are slamming shut and opening and slamming shut again and again. It’s like it knows it has my attention again and then the doors slowly reopen and stay there again like it’s tempting me to try and get there before they close again. I do not do that and instead call our patrol officer who is out driving between locations so I have proof of this with someone else. He gets there within 5 min and the doors are still open so once I fill him in we head down together and sure enough as soon as we get close the doors close. He goes and presses the call button and nothing. He’s pretty freaked out too now but we decide to just stay there outside the doors because if it’s just a perfectly timed malfunction it will open again. We stand there for almost a half hour and they never open but he gets a call come in so has to take off. We get halfway back to the desk and hear the doors open behind us. He tells me to go to the desk and watch the feed while he walks down there. Once I’m in place I tell him to go and same thing as soon as he enters the frame the doors close. He starts kicking the doors and pressing the buttons but it doesn’t do any good. He has to leave so he wishes me luck and tells me to just stay away from it. I have about an hour left in my shift when the doors start doing the slamming and opening again. I just stood at the far end of the hallway listening but it didn’t stop.

Took off as soon as the shift ended and left a report for maintenance about the issue. Next shift I worked I showed up early before they had taken off but they said when they got there it was working fine and they didn’t notice anything wrong. That night was quiet and in the rest of the time I worked there only 1 more night did those doors open but I just ignored it and after awhile they closed again and that was that.” – GrowTallInTheTrees