#gave her a very defeated ‘good job’ and got the paper towels out .

[strawberrychevalier]

having a stupid cat is all fun and games until you get to learn in real time that they do not understand how their litter box works

[voiceless-terror]

Recognition

@aspecarchivesweek Day Five: Something New

Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Season One

In which Jon and Martin are more alike than they thought.

Jon, in spite of himself, was starting to get used to Martin living in the Archives.

Offering him shelter had been almost instinctual- after listening to his story, who wouldn’t? Terrorized for almost two weeks and no one, no one noticed. There was also the matter of Jon’s guilt; Martin thought he needed to put himself in danger to be thorough, to please Jon, and now he was homeless. Jon owed him this at the very least. No matter how much Elias disapproved of the situation.

And despite the occasional trouser-less wanderings, his presence was...appreciated. Late nights in the Archives were wearing him down: the statements were getting to him, and the unshakeable feeling of being watched when he knew he was alone was putting him on edge. Now he can blame that feeling on Martin, who he’d caught staring on more than one occasion. Jon was not surprised; he hadn’t been looking or feeling his best, highly unprofessional with his three-day stubble and rumpled clothes. Not a good look.

He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t enjoy the cup of tea when Martin joined him in his worst bouts of insomnia. He would sit on the tiny couch in his office, nursing his own mug and chattering away in a low tone that Jon was starting to find soothing instead of irritating. At first Jon clammed up, uncomfortable with the sudden intrusion on his late night routine, but he soon found Martin didn’t expect him to respond or contribute, save the occasional grunt of acknowledgement. Sometimes Jon even craved the company, the familiar rhythms of Martin’s voice had become an unconscious comfort. 

Tonight he was looking particularly exhausted, slumped in his seat with deep purple bags under his eyes. It sent an unwelcome pang through Jon’s chest; Martin should be sleeping, not entertaining him because he chose to stay late. He said as much.

“You don’t have to stay up on my part.”

“Hm?” Martin looked up from his lap, eyes finding Jon’s. “Oh, no. It’s fine. I like the company, to be honest. Unless…?”

“I don’t mind,” Jon assured him. Shockingly, he found he meant it. Still, it didn’t ease his guilt. Martin was always here, never leaving the Archives for more than an hour to get food or other necessities. He considered his next words. “That being said, I hope you know you’re allowed to have a life outside of the institute. I won’t judge if you want to have a...late night, or go out. It’s not my business what you do in your free time.”

Martin squinted his eyes as if he didn’t understand the words Jon spoke. Christ, do I really seem that out of touch? He knew he could be severe and well, a bit of an ass at times. The stress of the job got to him more than he cared to admit. But he didn’t want his assistants to think they should follow his example. He was Head Archivist, it fell on his shoulders to get this place in some semblance of order. 

“I’m not really one for nights out, Jon,” Martin gave that familiar, self-deprecating laugh as he leaned back in his chair, an almost defeated-like set to his shoulders. “Well, besides the occasional drink with Tim and Sasha. And even those are sort of...I don’t know. They have their own thing going, and I feel like-”

“A bit of an outsider,” Jon provided before he could activate his ‘word to mouth’ filter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply-”

“No,” Martin cut him off. “You’re right. Feels like I’m intruding.”

“Their banter can be overwhelming for the, ah, uninitiated.” On the few times he’d gone out with them in research, he’d felt more lonely than included. His awkward attempts at interjecting could make a conversation fall flat and he felt the need to accept every drink they handed in him the hopes of ‘loosening up.’ It never worked. They were never mean about it, no- or at least had the decency not to do it in his presence. 

“Tell me about it.” Martin gave Jon a tiny little smirk that sent his heart stuttering in his chest for no particular reason. “I’m used to it, is all. This isn’t much of a change in routine, worms notwithstanding.”

“You, er, don’t have friends you can meet up with? Or maybe a partner?” Christ, why am I prying? What’s gotten into me? Jon felt curious, the man practically lived with him and yet he barely knew him.

The bark of laughter he got in reply was sudden and more than self-deprecating. “A partner? Are you kidding me?” Martin’s tone threw him off-balance; it was jaded, bitter, not like him at all.

“I didn’t mean to pry-”

“No, it’s- to be frank, I don’t think I’m cut out for all that.” Martin toyed with the mug in his hands, gazing into it like it held the answers he needed. “I’ve uh, tried to go on a few dates, meet people, that sort of thing. But they all expect something at the end and it just never feels right, I can’t explain it. Like there’s something missing. ”

Jon paused; the words and their sentiment were not unfamiliar to him. In fact, they resonated quite deeply, if Martin meant what Jon thought he did.

“It’s always been that way- I get a crush, I get to know them, they want to, y’know, and I-I don’t know what's wrong with me, but I can’t-” He cut himself off, sitting up straighter as if suddenly remembering where he was and who he was talking to. “God, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this-”

“It’s fine.” And it was. Martin looked at his hands and Jon recognized the sadness in the set of his shoulders, the lines etched in his face. He never thought the two of them would have much in common but that- that was a feeling Jon knew all too well. “I think I understand what you’re getting at.”

Martin somehow managed to deflate even further, curling up as if trying to disappear. “Yeah, well- I think it’s time to admit that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life.”

The words hit Jon harder than expected. His fists tightened in his lap; he was sixteen again, wondering why the kiss he stole in a backroom felt more invasive than intimate. He was reading romance novels, understanding the words but not the feelings they were supposed to invoke. He was in college, being called a ‘tease’ or a ‘prude’ when he pulled away at the end of the night. And it was all accompanied by that deep, crushing fear that he’d never be enough. 

No, you’re not that kid anymore. 

And Martin shouldn’t have to be either.

“What’s that look for?”

He was drawn from his thoughts at Martin’s words, looking up from the scratched wood of his desk. “Sorry?”

“You’ve- you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re const- like you’re thinking really hard.”

Jon tried to think of a way to word his query delicately, but ‘delicacy’ had never been his strong suit, according to Georgie. Come to think of it, it was never hers either. “Have you ever considered that maybe- that you’re- you’re of the persuasion, that is-”

Martin shot him a deadpan look, unimpressed. “Yeah, I know I’m gay, Jon.”

“That’s not-” He sighed in frustration, fuming at his inability to communicate. “It’s okay to not feel that way. I never have. It’s normal.”

Martin blinked. “Sorry?”

“Asexuality, that is,” he said, finally managing to get out the words. “I was...in a similar position, I guess you could say. I didn’t feel the way you were ‘supposed’ to feel, like how all the books and TV shows describe it. Zero interest in anything sexual, and I thought...well, I thought something was wrong with me.” Jon felt a lump building in his throat, much to his horror. “But being able to put a name to it, an identity, it just felt right.” Martin’s face was unreadable- had he spoken out of turn? Did he have this all wrong? 

He tried to clarify. “What I’m trying to say is that I know what it’s like, that...feeling you described. But it doesn’t mean you’re not cut out for love. You...you shouldn’t have to feel that way about yourself. You’ll find people who accept you. You’re not doomed to be lonely.” Now you’re just getting sentimental. Jon wasn’t one to dole out advice. He attempted to reign it in, get himself back on solid, familiar ground. “Maybe don’t take me for an example, though. I assure you, my isolation is very much self-imposed.”

Martin didn’t laugh. For a brief, panicky moment Jon thought he might have offended him, assumed the wrong thing, taken him out of context. But Martin met his eyes and Jon saw it- a look of dawning understanding, of comprehension and knowing and as much as Jon wanted to look away he couldn’t, because for the first time in a while he thought he might have said the right thing. 

_____

He watched as Martin puttered about in the break room and took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. Martin hadn’t said much after their conversation, just thanked him in a choked voice and mumbled some excuse about going off to bed. Jon felt a bit conflicted- he now had time to ruminate on the conversation, pick it apart and wonder if he said anything wrong. He didn’t think he had, but his instincts had been proven wrong before.

Still, the thought of helping one person, sparing them from that crippling self-doubt and inadequacy, made any embarrassment or awkwardness well worth it. So here he was, shuffling his feet and holding a stack of paper, stapled and neat and in some cases, annotated. He cleared his throat and Martin turned away from the sink to face him.

“Oh, g-good morning, Jon.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel, throwing it lightly on the counter. “Did you sleep well?”

He’d gotten two hours tops on the lumpy couch in his office. I need to invest in another cot. But he nodded anyway, walking forward and thrusting the pile out for Martin to take. Martin looked down at it quizzically but took it all the same, his face softening as he flipped through the pages.

“I, um- I printed out some articles that I thought might be of interest,” Jon rambled, feeling more awkward by the second. Was this too forward of me? “I’ve always found it easier to read on paper instead of the screen. For ah, concentration purposes. This- this isn’t required reading, or anything. Just might be helpful for, uh, figuring things out.”

Martin didn’t look up from the pages in his hand, instead zeroing in on them with a more intense stare. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight with sincerity. “Thanks. It uh, it means a lot.”

“Yes,” Jon replied nonsensically, having no response to the emotion in Martin’s words. “You- you don’t need to talk to me about this, if you’d rather not. But I’m available if you’d like to.” He paused. Best to keep this somewhat professional- it was almost nine. “Outside of normal working hours, of course.”

“Of course,” Martin echoed, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he finally met Jon’s eyes. He fought down the urge to smile back, instead muttering an excuse and turning to flee the room. I think I’ve filled my emotional quota for the week. 

They don’t talk about it again, but a few days later a sticky note appears on his desk. Thanks- MB. Underneath the clear script he’d doodled a small flag- black, grey, white, and purple. 

Jon puts it in his right-hand drawer next to an old polaroid of the Admiral, where it stays.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782318

[zenith-impact]

Riptide - Part Seven

Sorry for the one week delay. Had an emergency to deal with last week and just wasn’t able to get this posted until now. I do hope ya’ll enjoy this chapter though! 

Read on AO3 here!

[1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6]

You weren’t sure what to expect when Childe took you to his home the next afternoon. You thought maybe he’d be in some kind of mansion like Shing. Or maybe a private boat hanging out off the coast. He should at least have his own house, you thought. But instead, you found yourself outside a quaint apartment at the top of a building with Fatui neighbors on all sides. You were somewhat amused to see that three of them were the same ones you’d defeated a few weeks ago, but they didn’t spare you a second glance. Except for the skinny one. He looked downright terrified. 

“They’re quiet neighbors,” Childe said. “Try not to scare them too much.”

“Shouldn’t living next to a Harbinger scare them enough?” You said. 

He chuckled as he unlocked the door. “It helps.”

The inside was even smaller than you expected with a living room connected directly to the kitchen. There were two doors to the back. One leading to a bathroom and the other a bedroom. The couch, which you assumed you’d be sleeping on, was large and brown with its back to the kitchen to separate the space. There was a nice, dark coffee table in front of that, and a tall lamp to the side. The floors were hardwood with a brown rug that seemed rather pointless. Even the curtains were a light shade of brown, and yet somehow didn’t match anything else in the room. 

“What do you think?” Childe said as he shut the door. 

“It’s all very… brown.”

“I didn’t choose the furniture.”

“So you have better tastes?” You asked. 

“Marginally.”

“So you might have changed the curtains.”

He laughed. “Definitely the curtains.”

“But the rug would stay.”

You swore his nose wrinkled for just a moment. “I’m contractually obligated to keep it there.”

“That’s a lot of long words to say absolutely nothing.”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

You didn’t doubt him. “So what’s the plan, Harbinger?” 

 “Well since your friend kicked us out just before dinner time…” He opened the fridge and beamed. “Good! I’m all stocked up.”

“On?”

He gave you that look. “Food.”

You rolled your eyes. “What kind of food?”

“Almost anything you could dream of.”

You snorted, but then you saw the inside of the fridge. It was completely full, so much so that things were stuffed in random directions. But Childe pulled objects out with astounding speed, and not a single thing dropped out of place. He kicked the fridge closed and dropped a majority of the food into the sink. “Chicken and vegetables,” He said.

“You’re going to cook?”

“How else do you think I eat?” He said as he summoned a small knife of water and began cutting the carrots. 

“Getting others to cook for you?”

“Maybe when I’m busy. But tonight, I have a lady over.”

You didn’t know why you blushed at that, and quickly looked away before he noticed. On a desk under the window, you saw a small pile of letters and a half folded sheet of paper. You pushed it open, surprised at how neat the handwriting was.

“Dear Tonia…”

“Do you often snoop on other people’s things?”

You jumped, knocking the letters to the floor. You rushed to pick them up, only to collide with Childe. But while you recoiled in pain, he didn’t even flinch. By the time you recovered, the letters were back on the table and he was back in the kitchen. 

“Who’s Tonia?”

“My sister,” He said.

“You have a sister?”

“And two brothers.”

“Back in Snezhnaya?”

“Of course,” He said, his voice teasing. “Where else would they be?”

You didn’t have a good answer to that. So, you sat on the couch, absentmindedly watching him as he found a large pan and lit the stove.  Again, you hadn’t known what to expect when he said you would be sharing a home. You tried to get over that awkward feeling in your chest that had only blossomed when he demanded you buy new sets of clothes so you didn’t have to go home. Clothes that had been carried ahead by a member of the Fatui and were now somewhere in this house. Apparently someone did all of his shopping for him too, yet he cooked on his own? And what would he expect of you while you were here? Why hadn’t he asked you to cook? Did he just instinctively know that it wasn’t something you did very often?  You supposed he often saw you out on the streets at night… 

“You’re overthinking something, girlie.” 

You scowled. “It’s nothing important.” 

“I think they tossed all your clothes onto the bed,” He said. “Feel free to change for the night. We’re not going anywhere.”

“We’re not?”

“Well, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve got some Fatui business to deal with.” 

You snorted. “Last time I checked, throwing me into a random apartment and leaving isn’t exactly keeping me safe.” 

“No one will bother you here,” Childe said with a lighthearted shrug as he started cleaning the food. For a moment, you just watched, trying to figure out the joke. But he didn’t say anything, even though you were certain he knew you were staring him down. And as he started peeling the carrots, you sighed and walked over to him. 

“You think my dad’s involved in all of this, don’t you.”

“Hard to say,” Childe said as he tossed the carrot aside and moved to another one. “He’s been mentioned but I haven’t staked out your house or anything like that. I have considered it though.” You pointed the knife at you in a strangely lighthearted way. “But then you’d think I was even creepier than you already do.”

“I don’t think you’re creepy,”

“What a relief.”

“Strange, maybe.”

He laughed. “No stranger than you.” 

You scowled as you crossed your arms. “I’m not strange.”

“Yet you’d probably be offended if I called you ordinary...”

“I have a vision.”

“In almost every way.” 

You scowled. “Clearly the bad guys don’t think that or you wouldn’t have brought me here.”

He was silent for a long while after that. You eventually gave up the conversation and sat back down on the couch, stubbornly staring at the covered window. It wasn’t your fault that your father might be involved in something heinous. It wasn’t your fault that he gave you this stupid delusion. A part of you wanted to take it back. Leave it on the kitchen table and be done with it. But then you pulled it out again, staring at it. My mother’s delusion. Had this truly been what killed her? If it did, why did your father care so little to give it to you? You thought you had a good relationship before now. At the very least, you didn’t think he hated you. But why give you this? 

You were missing something. You just didn’t know what. 

“It’s been a few days,” You muttered more to yourself than Childe. But he paused what he was doing, glancing over his shoulder as you put the delusion away. “Maybe we should go talk to him.”

“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” Childe said as he tossed a towel over his shoulder, shut the water off, and turned to face you. “I doubt they believed your father’s story about losing the delusion. If they’re smart, they’ll have the place scoped out. But if they were really smart, they would have had you followed, and I doubt Hu Tao could have hidden you out for that long, so maybe I’m overestimating them.” 

“Or someone’s waiting for the right time,” You said. “A time when I’m alone.”

 Childe sighed as he brushed through his hair. “Fine,” He said. “But first I need to teach you to use that,” He pointed at the delusion, his expression a mix between serious and deadpanned. “That delusion means something to them, and the last thing we need is for you to lose it because you’re too weak.” 

You thought you should be offended, but the feeling didn’t come to you. You didn’t even bother to refute him. The delusion was a weakness as long as you didn’t know how to use it. Instead, you got another idea. “If we can’t talk to my father, then maybe we could get some answers out of Shing. He clearly knows something.” 

Childe snorted. “The guy didn’t even bother paying off his debt, hence the ‘Fatui business’ I need to deal with.”

“I doubt you going back is going to make him pay it.”

“I have my ways.”

“Then use them to get information.”

“As much as I like the way you’re thinking, this guy isn’t going to talk.”

“So we find it another way,” You offered. “Maybe you distract him with this debt while I sneak inside.”

“Again,” Childe said. “It’s a decent train of thought if you actually knew what you were doing.” You glared at him, but he waved you off. “But that would be like tossing you to the wolves.”

“I have plenty of experience sneaking around,” You said with a light shrug. 

“And stealing things?”

“No but…”

“And you know how to break into a house?”

“I’ve broken into my own before,” you said. “Back when my dad used to lock all the windows.”

“That doesn’t make you a certified thief,” Childe said with a roll of his eyes.

“I won’t get caught.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because you’ll do your job,” You said. “Right, Mr. Harbinger?”

He leaned in close with that goofy grin of his. You hadn’t even noticed him cross the room. “Now you’re thinking like a Fatui.”

You shoved him, but he just stood up and laughed. 

----------

It wasn’t until you had snuck around to the back of Shing’s mansion that you realized the gravity of your situation. Not only were you about to attempt to sneak into the house of quite possibly the richest man in Liyue, but you were doing so with a coveted Delusion hidden in your clothes, no knowledge of what you were looking for, and only a few minutes to find it. 

Why had you convinced yourself of this?

Maybe you were crazier than Childe. 

You kept close to the wall, looking up toward the windows. You knew from Childe’s scouting that Shing’s office was in the very center. That was where you were most likely to find anything important. There hadn’t been anyone guarding the area, so you assumed all the fake-delusion holders were somewhere inside. That, or Shing was so unbelievably confident that he didn’t think he needed any type of protection. You hoped it was the latter, especially as you heard Childe’s loud introduction from the front door. 

You took a deep breath and climbed the building, staying away from any other windows. You had an escape plan if needed, but you were pleasantly surprised to find his office both closed and empty when you arrived. Prying open the window was easy with the knife Childe had given you, and you soon found yourself rolling onto the carpeted floor, making as little noise as possible. The room was surprisingly small with an opulent desk carved with various animals, a red velvet chair fit for the king Shing thought he was, and a set of closed doors to the right. 

But your heart sank when you saw the piles of papers strewn in all directions, both on the desk and around it. Most of them looked like useless pieces of financial documents with barely legible notes in the margins. Others were drawings of grand houses, large rooms, jewelry, and other random things that looked like they belonged in a museum. You rushed through as many pages as you could, searching for anything that might be related to a delusion. Downstairs, you could hear the conversation passing what Childe called the “useless small talk” stage, meaning you only had a few minutes left. 

“I believe you promised me a few million mora the other day,” Childe said. 

“Ah yes. My apologies,” Shing said with a tone that was anything but. “It seems my courier forgot to deliver it.”

“Well we can’t have that now can we?”

Your elbow bumped the bottom of the desk and you flinched as a burst of pain jolted up your arm. It was then that you noticed there was a locked drawer with a small golden hole. Would the key be in the room? You doubted it, but you scrambled through the things on the desk anyway. 

“Li Wei,” Shing said. “Would you mind going to my office and bringing down a freshly stamped letter for me?”

You froze as you heard Childe laugh. “A letter? What good is that going to do you?”

“A colleague of mine deals with all of my money,” Shing said as you rushed to put all the papers back into some semblance of an order. “You’ll find the best parchment in my desk drawer.” 

When you heard someone climbing the steps, you started to panic. The window was your best chance, but you hadn’t found anything yet. You glanced at the doors, your heart pounding in your chest. As the steps got closer, you flung them open to see a small closet with neatly filed books and folders. You climbed inside, shutting the door as quickly as you could, plunging you into darkness. You held your breath as the other door opened and squeezed your hands into fists as you curled yourself up as tight as possible. You heard the man grumble, but you could not understand him over the sound of your own heart in your ears. You were certain he could hear it, and shut your eyes tight as his footsteps crossed the room.

A quiet click echoed in the silent room. 

The drawer opened. 

Your foot hit a book, echoing a loud thud into the room. 

Everything went silent. “Who’s there?” the man said. The footsteps got closer. You could imagine him reaching out for the closet and summoned a small blade of ice. You could run for it. Maybe knock him out fast enough that he wouldn’t be able to identify you. 

“Hey Li Wei!” You heard Childe yell from downstairs. “What’s taking so long?”

At the man’s hesitance, you lunged through the door, slamming into him. He hit the floor hard, eyes rolling in the back of his head. You glanced into the drawer, ripping out what looked like a diary before making a break for it. You burst out of the window, barely turning fast enough to grab the side and ease your way down. You heard a scream from inside, followed by the shouts of many men. But you kept running, just as you promised Childe you would, shooting down the street and ducking into the crowd that covered your tracks. 

Archons, you hoped whatever mess Childe was cleaning up was worth it.

[angerstagram]

monster among men // calum (SMUT)

boxer!calum

Pairing:  Calum + Y/N

Words: 4.6k

Rating:  X. For, you know, sex.

Description:  Calum is your long time boyfriend but he’s also a boxer. When his trainer says the two of you can’t have sex before the big match, you find that much easier said than done.

Warning: Oral sex, mentions of violence (for sport).

Author’s Note: I wrote this in one go and haven’t edited it!! Please forgive the typos. Stay tuned for a part two!

——————————————

Calum threw one last punch at the now well-abused punching bag, watching it swing slowly back and forth—toward him, then away, then toward him again—and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The air in the gym was thick with sweat and dirt as men all around him trained against sparring partners, trainers, or a giant bag of sand, like him.

His trainer, Sal, came up behind him and squirted some gatorade in his mouth before helping him remove his gloves. “That was great, Cal. Your form is better than 97% of the guys in here.”

Calum smirked. “My form is better than 100% of the guys in here and you know it, Sal.”

Sal smiled at Calum but refused to boost his ego. “Well your form isn’t gonna win you a belt, Cal. Not on its own. I need you to keep up your power all the way to the last punch.” Sal was talking excitedly with his hands now, throwing fake punches at the air as though it were 1987 and he was back in the ring.

“Don’t worry about my power, Sal. Just get me in the ring and I’ll take it from there.” Calum wiped the towel Sal handed him against the back of his neck and then over the planes of his chest where little beads of sweat had gathered.

“Alright, big shot.” Sal gestured his head toward the ring and Calum climbed in, letting Sal strap the gloves back on once he was inside.

Sal slid on a pair of punching mitts and held them in front of Calum’s face. “Focus on me, Cal. Right here.”

Calum started throwing punches and Sal met them every time. Every time Calum dropped his guard, Sal would take advantage and hit Calum in the face with a mitt until Calum’s cheek was red and starting to swell.

They went on like that for the better part of an hour, before Sal finally let Calum take a break at the edge of the ring.

“It’s that girl, Calum. She’s inside your head. It’s all well and good to get laid when you don’t have a belt on the line. But if you’re spending all your time thinking about what little date you’re gonna go on and picking up a nice bouquet of pansies or some shit, you’re head ain’t gonna be where it needs to be.”

Calum knew that Sal was trying to rip him up and make fun of him by playing on age-old stereotypes, but Calum could’t even hear him.

As soon as Sal mentioned flowers Cal could smell your perfume. He could feel your skin under his fingertips, the soft give of your hips as he squeezed them. It was as though you were standing right in front of him, his mouth pressing soft kisses to the nape of your neck as you worked in the kitchen. He was pulling your back to be flush with his chest, the shape of your ass pushing deliciously into his —

“You’re not even listening to me, are ya?” Sal’s voice cut into Calum’s reverie and suddenly he was whipped back into the gym.

“I get it, no girls before the match. I hear you, Sal.” If the guys wanted to believe that Calum was a womanizer who was bedding a different woman every night, he would let them. But he wouldn’t jeopardize this match for anything.

————————————————

Calum was really, truly planning on staying strong until his match. But then he got home and you were standing there wearing one of his cotton t-shirts, barefoot and swaying your hips in time to the music playing through the stereo. Everything smelled amazing, the food you had simmering on the stovetop, the candle lit on the coffee table, the summer breeze drifting in through the open windows.

He slipped off his shoes and padded into the kitchen while you faced away from him. He knew you didn’t hear him come in over the sound from the stereo, so he had the advantage as he walked up behind you and gave you a playful slap on the ass.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the spoon into the sauce you had been stirring and letting out a yelp. “Calum Thomas!” you explained, licking the sauce off your thumb where it had splashed when you dropped the spoon.

“Hmmm,” Calum let out a low hum as he nuzzled his face into your neck, just as he had imagined earlier. He let out a soft sigh, the sound of a man who was exactly where he wanted to be after a long day. “Hey, let me have a taste, too,” he murmured, turning your chin between his fingers and kissing you deeply.

You twisted yourself in his arms so that your back was to the stove and your chest pressed against his. You loved when he came home like this; worked up from a day of hard exercise, hair still wet from his shower at the gym, the muscles in his arm thick and corded under his t-shirt where you traced your fingers.

His mouth wandered down your neck, his open mouth warm against your pulse points. You were breathing heavier now and he knew it, pressing his palm against the small of your back and drawing you impossibly closer to him.

“So, um,” you tried to string a sentence together as the feeling of his lips on your skin scrambled your thoughts. “How was work?”

Your little joke passed over him without laughter, his focus unyielding. He was always so focused on whatever task was at hand that he often couldn’t see or hear the world around him. Times like this, that trait came in handy.

You laced your fingers through his wet hair and scratched softly at the back of his head, bringing his focus briefly back to reality. Calum raised his face to yours again and smirked against your lips. “Work was great, sweetie. And how was your day?”

Calum loved playing pretend like that. Pretend like you two were a normal couple; that he had a normal 9-5 job pushing papers behind a desk in a suit and tie and you drove a mini-van or some shit. A joke that made it seem in moments like this that he wasn’t in physical danger 95% of his day and you didn’t spend thousands of hours of your life scared that one wrong punch would be the end of him.

But you couldn’t think about that now, not when he was hooking his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisting you over onto a clear spot of the counter. Not when he was standing between your open knees and pulling you closer to his chest again, his arms circling your back and his mouth hot and needy against yours.

His kisses were urgent and all-consuming, pulling the breath of you and energizing you all at the same time. You didn’t realize he had pulled your hair out of it’s ponytail until you felt it cascade down your back. He pressed a kiss behind your ear and bit it lightly, causing you to laugh at the aggression.

“What’s gotten into you, Hood?” you asked breathlessly, teasing him for his ability to go zero to ninety in 3.5 seconds. Something in the tightness of his back and the set of his jaw told you something was up, though. “At least let me turn off the sauce so it doesn’t burn.”

Now he was laughing at you, his chest rumbling against yours. “I’m doing some of my best work here, babe, and you’re thinking about the sauce?”

“I just don’t want it to burn! I’ve been building these flavors for an hour, Cal.”

He didn’t stop laughing, but humored you by reaching over and switching off the burners. “Happy now?”

“I’ll be happier when you tell me what’s going on,” you said softly as you rubbed circles against his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the muscles there.

He dropped his forehead against yours and pressed a light kiss to your lips. He knew he would have to bring it up sooner or later, but he didn’t think he would have to say it so soon. “I, um, well.” He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck as he searched for the words. “Basically, Sal thinks that we shouldn’t, um.”

You dipped your head, searching for his eyes. Trying to follow along with his train of thoughts going nowhere. “Sal thinks we shouldn’t what, Cal?”

“Sal thinks we shouldn’t be, um, romantic before the championship match.” Cal almost looked like he was blushing. For someone that was so confident and uninhibited while you were actually being romantic, he often had a hard time talking about it when you weren’t.

Your face was deadpan as you looked at him. “Sal says we can’t fuck before the match,” you paraphrased in an unenthusiastic voice.

Now he was definitely blushing, the color rising in his cheeks and spreading to his ears. “Um, well, yeah.”

“The match that’s in three weeks.”

“Uh huh.”

“Your trainer, a man who hasn’t had a wild night of passion in over a century, says that you and I cannot fuck for 21 days.”

“Yeah.”

“And that will do…what exactly? It will help your form?”

“No, my form is great, actually. It’s my power on the last punch that needs work,” Calum replied, genuinely not realizing that you were being sarcastic.

“Then why the fuck did you come in here and start kissing me like that, jackass?” You swatted at his shoulder and dropped your head to his shoulder, huffing at the injustice of it all.

Calum laughed at your frustration, rubbing calming circles into the small of your back again but you pushed against his shoulders.

“You really can’t touch me if you don’t want me to jump you right now, Calum.”

The look in your eyes made him see you weren’t really joking. Calum felt a sudden rush of conflicting emotions; half feeling guilty that he had done this to you, and half feeling proud that he had a girl who wanted him as badly as he wanted her all the goddamn time.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, love, I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I wanted a little something to tide me over.” He was smirking now, leaning in to give you another kiss but you turned your head to the side in defiance.

He tossed his head back in defeat, taking a step back and throwing his hands up to signal that he wouldn’t pressure you.

But that’s not what you wanted, either. It was very confusing, really. He had worked you up and then left you high and dry, so you were just as much want and need and greed as you were angry and annoyed.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back against you, shifting forward on the counter. “If you want to tide me over, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you said against his lips, sliding your hand down the front of his shorts and palming him over his underwear.

Calum groaned and bucked involuntarily against your hand before grabbing your wrist. “Baaabe, we can’t,” his voice almost a whine.

You slipped your hand back out of his shirt obediently and placed it back on his shoulders. “Fine,” you conceded. “I guess I’ll just have to go take care of myself. You can finish up dinner, right?”

Giving his shoulders a light push, Calum stepped back, surprised. You slid off the counter and began walking out of the kitchen toward your bedroom before feeling his hand grab your wrist. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”

He pulled your wrist to turn you around, holding your hand to his cheek and pressing his mouth where it met your wrist. He held it there for what felt like forever, the worlds slowing down and your heart speeding up as you concentrated on the feeling of his lips against your palm. He was looking at you from under his criminally long lashes, all dark lines and tan skin with a single wet curl hanging over his forehead.

“We can do this, together, I’m sure,” he murmured into your skin. “Now can we please eat this beautiful dinner you’ve worked so hard on?”

Breathing in through your nose and blowing out through your mouth, you focused on both calming down and cooling down. You really wished this place came with a goddamn air conditioner.

“Fine. You make the salad.”

————————————————————

A week went by like that. The tension growing thicker each day. Waking up next to Calum and feeling the shape of his body against your back, your front, your legs twisted between each other’s or splayed like snow angels. No matter the position, you woke up hot, every inch of your scorching where it touched his.

It really shouldn’t be this hard. You had been celibate voluntarily or involuntarily, for months at a time not that long ago. You were an adult who could survive a simple 21-day stretch without sex.

But that was all before you met Calum. Before you had been with Calum; known the way his body could make yours feel. Before you knew the way he could play your body like a fine-tuned instrument, his every touch lighting a fire inside of you that threatened to melt you from the inside out.

And it was in moments like this, when the early morning sun was streaming in through the curtains and causing a cold yellow light to dance over his golden skin that you felt so acutely what he could do to you. You lay awake just staring at him. At his long, black eyelashes curling so beautifully over his closed eyes. His messy morning hair curling haphazardly over his forehead. His strong jaw line creating a line that led down his neck to the shape of his collarbone where it stood out over the swell of his bare chest.

His breathing was slow, the rise and fall almost lulling you back to sleep. But then he spoke. “You’re being creepy,” he murmurs without opening his eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you replied innocently, swiping his hair off his forehead and running your finger down his cheek to his jaw.

“Staring at me looking all sexy and asleep isn’t going to help your predicament, see cheeks,” he joked as he slowly came into consciousness.

“How do you do that without opening your eyes?”

He turned his face to press his mouth to the pulse in your wrist, one eye peeking open to stare at you in the morning light. “I’ll tell you one day.”

You curled into his side, setting your chin into his shoulder to stare at him up close. “I think I’ve been rather good, actually. I haven’t pressured you even once, even when I really wanted to jump your bones.”

He laughed, curling to face you on his arm, your bodies forming two parentheses barely overlapping each other under the mustard yellow sheets. “You’ve wanted to jump my bones, hmm?” He ran his hand down your back to your underwear, teasing the skin just under the hem of his cotton t-shirt that you had worn to bed.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “When you come home all sweaty from the gym in those short ‘80s shorts. How could I resist?” Your voice was joking but you really weren’t. Those were the times you really felt like no championship would be worth dying a slow, horny death.

“Well you’ve been very patient.” Calum pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How long has it been, anyway?”

“Eight days,” you replied too quickly.

Calum noticed your eagerness and laughed. “Eight days. Hm. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat but you didn’t let yourself get your hopes up. Not after yesterday, when he had texted you I have a surprise for you when you get home ;) and you arrived home prepared to see a naked Calum covered in whipped cream or something….only to find him with an extra-large pizza from your favorite restaurant. Granted, that had been a pretty good surprise. But it didn’t change the fact that you only thought of him a tease with no action to back up his big talk.

“Oh I’m certain I deserve a reward,” you replied, giving him a playful slap on the ass.

“Whatever shall we do about that?” he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose everywhere his breath ghosted over you.

Calum rolled you onto your back, throwing his leg over your waist to rest his full chest against yours. Maybe you could get excited, after all.

He pressed small kisses against your neck, nipping at your skin to make you gasp. When you moved your hands to twist them through his hair he grabbed them and pressed them to the pillows above your head, twining your fingers together and making your breath come out unsteadily.

He kissed you deeply, the air leaving your lungs. Suddenly your entire body was nothing but a pile of unmitigated need, a live wire that sparked everywhere his mouth touched. And his mouth on yours made you feel like he was breathing your life into your lungs and pulling it back out all at the same time.

It was an effect no man had ever had on you before. The ability to turn you inside out like this. Was it because you were in love with him? So completely in love with him that it made the want and the need and lust and sex and love all mix up with each other in your mind until they were a single force driving you toward peak after peak.

And he had barely even gotten started. He had you pinned between his strong arms, the muscles in his bicep flexing as he held himself over you. He ground his pelvis into yours, your back arching to meet each delicious thrust. God, he hadn’t even really touched you yet.

Calum held himself above you to watch the effect his actions had on you. The way your eyebrows furrowed together as he rubbed against you. The way you shivered when he traced one finger up your arm and over the swell of your chest to cup your breast over your shirt.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” you murmured. “Dry humping my boyfriend while his mom watches TV in the living room.”

“My mom is here?” Calum looked over his shoulder as though he would find her standing right behind him.

You laughed and used his distraction to push him onto his back. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You peeled his t-shirt off of you and threw it on the floor, immediately forgotten.

Calum drank you in above him, pupils blown out with lust, watching you closely to see what you would try to do next. His body looked relaxed but you knew that in reality he was like a predatory cat preparing to strike. That his lazy exterior could spring into action before you could realize what had happened.

Not wanting him to steal your pleasure from you, you acted before he could. First you slid your fingers down your panties and gathered some of the wetness that had grown there before rubbing your fingertips slowly over your clit. Your mouth pouted open into a gasp, reveling in the sensation, grinding harder as you chased that pleasure.

You slapped your other hand to his chest, your fingertips digging crescent moons into his bronze skin as you rolled your hips over your hand, and by extension, his growing erection.

Calum sat up suddenly. His face was still relaxed, but the speed with which he moved gave away how much your action had affected him. He pressed his chest flush with yours and kissed you hotly.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pulled your hand out from your panties and pressed your fingers into his mouth. His tongue laved slowly over your fingertips, drawing a long moan from you, the air between the two of you growing thick and electric.

“God, you’re killing me, Cal,” you moaned. He ran his fingers down to your hips again, digging into the flesh and rolling you against him. Back and forth, back and forth, rolling you quickly toward an orgasm thanks largely to how long it had been since your last one.

“Do you,” Cal pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, “do you touch yourself when I’m away?” Calum’s voice sounded genuinely quizzical, as though he were discussing the weather or asking you for directions.

“I, um.” Your brain was short circuiting as he pressed you harder and faster against him, your wet panties rubbing against your clit like a tongue. He pressed another kiss to your bare chest, nipping you just under your collarbone before taking a nipple into his mouth.

“Well? Do you?” He repeated, his hot breath causing you to shiver where it met your pebbled nipple.

“No. Um.” The screws were coming loose in your brain. Everything you wanted to do with him, do to him, were flashing over the inside of your eyelids as he drew you to your peak. “Not since, um, not since you said we couldn’t, oh god.”

Calum pulled away and you whined at the loss. He was looking at you intently, as though trying to judge if you were being serious. “You mean that?” He slid his hand down the back of your panties and slid one finger inside you easily. You gasped at how unexpected it was and moaned as he used that hand to pull you back and forth into the grinding motion he had you in before. “You really haven’t had an orgasm for over a week?”

“Yeah, I mean it,” your voice was increasing in pitch and your eyes were shut tight. “Fuck, Calum, don’t stop.”

But Calum did stop. At least, he stopped long enough to throw you onto your back and slide comfortably to rest his head just above your mound. “You’ve been an even better girl than I thought,” Calum praised, his voice still gravelly this early in the morning. “Now let’s see about that reward.”

Calum pulled your underwear off quickly and pressed his tongue flat against you, licking a thick stripe from your opening to your clit. You keened loudly, your back arching when he finally gave you what you needed.

He didn’t intend to tease you. He really did want to reward you for your patience. But it was just so much fun to watch you writhe and moan under him as he teased one finger around your opening and licked figure eights just below your clit.

You were panting as the air of the room pressed heavily against your skin. If fucking Calum was a religious experience, having him eat you out was like leaving earth and going straight to heaven.

“Fuck, Calum. I can’t.” You had been so close to your climax before you felt your mouth on you that your brain was disconnecting.

Finally, he took mercy on you. Diving in to eat you like his last meal. He slid one finger into you, just up to the second knuckle, pressing up against your front wall as he flicked his tongue against your clit.

You bucked up into his face and he didn’t even bother holding you down, just tucked one arm under your thigh to steady himself before shoving two fingers into you up to their base.

He pumped his fingers into you steadily, pressing his tongue flat against you. He alternated his pace, pumping faster when he slowed his tongue and flicking his tongue quickly when he slowed his pumps.

“Oh my god, Calum. Fuck, I—,” you blubbered as your soul left your body. You curled your legs over his shoulders, your thighs shaking as you sprinted towards the high you were both chasing. All the want you had built up for a week had created an ache stronger than you even realized, and the beginning of your orgasm was like stretching an atrophied muscle. “Goddamn it that feels so fucking good.”

When he knew you were going to fall over the edge, Calum slowed his tongue and hooked his fingers to press firmly against your g-spot. He tapped them rapidly against that spot as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you reached your peak. You clamped your knees against his ears, locking him in place as you finally fell over the edge. Your entire body shook as the orgasm rolled from where his fingers still tapped inside you out to your fingers and down to your toes.

Even as you reached your peak he didn’t stop, pumping his fingers and scissoring them to rub against every wall, running his tongue over you until there wasn’t a nerve left below your waist that he hadn’t annihilated.

It was like his fingers were fucking the air right out of your lungs. Connecting the two of you and unraveling you all at the same time.

“C’mon, baby. I know you’ve got another in you.”

And he was right, really. Except it wasn’t exactly a second orgasm as it was a second wave of the first that had never stopped. He stayed like that for a long time, never letting you come down, pulling one after another from you until you had to shove his face away.

He kissed his way back up your body, holding his hand still against your mound as you came down, its warmth soothing as your body shook.

Finally he pressed his mouth against yours and you could taste yourself. You didn’t have the energy to kiss him back. Your lips just hung open as your breath came out in small pants. He rolled over onto his side and pulled the sheet over both of you.

“You are really fucking good at that,” you said finally, flinging the back of your hand against his chest.

Calum nuzzled his nose against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Only the best for my girl,” he laughed, taking the compliment in stride.

You glanced down at the tent in the sheet where it lay over his waist. “Just, uh, just give me a minute. I’ll get right on that.” You gestured lazily toward his obvious erection.

“No, no. Today was about you.” Calum rolled you so that he was spooning you and ran his hand over the back of yours, twisting your fingers together. “I still need to wait until after the match.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck and breathed slowly through his nose to try and bring his own body temperature down. Your thoughts were becoming coherent again.

You turned your head to look at him, really look at him. You kissed him deeply, trying to convey to him the feeling that had overwhelmed you. “I love you, Calum. So goddamn much.”

He smiled but he didn’t laugh. The light danced in his eyes where they crinkled at the corners. He kissed you again and brushed his nose against yours. “I love you, too. Now go back to sleep.”

[ericsonclan]

Stop and Smell the Stew

Summary: Duck goes down to the kitchen to see if dinner is ready and ends up helping his mom cook.

Word Count: 1759

Read on AO3:

Duck lay on his bed, his legs lazily kicking as they dangled off the edge. His eyes focused on a weird dot on his ceiling for a second, wondering how it got there before his attention was stolen by the TV as Final Fantasy music began to play on the title screen of the game. He had just finished an intense gaming session of grinding his weaker team members, cheering for them when they leveled up and laughing with Tidus as he did the laugh alongside Yuna.

It was a ton of fun but his stomach had been growling and sadly all he’d had was some Batman fruit snacks. Well, not some - one pack. He had inhaled that like it was nothing and now his stomach demanded more. It gave its usual pleas and angry cries, making Duck wonder if dinner would be ready soon. He knew it was only four but still maybe his mom would have started dinner early tonight or maybe she had made some treats.

With that thought in mind Duck swung his legs off his bed and swayed up to his full height in one awkward movement. Strolling forward, he walked past his bookshelf filled with nothing but comics and mystery novels. Batman, Spiderman and Scooby Doo figures stood proudly by the great reads he had collected over the years. His eyes stuck on the Shaggy figure who was definitely a bit worse for the wear due to being such an old toy. Still his goofy expression was still as strong as ever. With a small smile Duck reached out to grab the figure but accidentally knocked over Daphne in the process.

“Shit, sorry, Daphne,” Duck apologized with a smile and leaned down to pick up the toy when his eyes locked onto a Rubik’s cube. Oh, so that's where it had ended up. He could’ve sworn he had lost it in his pants. Eh, no use thinking about it too hard. Snatching up the Rubik’s cube, Duck began to flick around the colored sections while he put Daphne back on the shelf.

With a grin he turned and began to solve the cube. He had always had a love and a knack for puzzles and this one was one of his favorites. Spinning around the different sections, Duck quickly solved it then blindly reorganized it. His mind was easily distracted by the thought of a new puzzle game coming out and after a few minutes Duck had no recollections of how many spins he had done or what order it was in. The Rubik’s cube would remain a puzzle to solve later. Still holding it in one hand, Duck walked down the stairs with a smile and headed towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom, what's going to be for dinner?” Duck poked his head in the kitchen and noticed that Katjaa was busy getting out the dutch oven, carefully placing it onto the stove. The sound of her son’s voice made Katjaa look over with the brightest smile.

“I’m just getting started on it: carbonnade flamande,”

The name of the dish brought back fond memories and made Duck’s stomach growl.

That caused a laugh to leave Katjaa’s lips.“Want to help me?”

“Sure!” Duck beamed and placed down the Rubik’s cube in a spot he would most likely forget about by this evening. Rolling up his sleeves that immediately fell back down, he went to work grabbing all the ingredients. His loud footsteps rang around the kitchen as he grabbed the chuck roast that had been marinating overnight in the sour ale, bay leaves, garlic and some salt and also snatched up the bacon, beef broth and way too many other ingredients to try to carry all in one trip. Yet he still tried.

“Duck!” Katjaa exclaimed then bustled over, helping her son out.

“I wanted to carry it all in one trip,” Duck grinned at his mom who shook her head good naturedly before setting down the ingredients on the counter.

“I can see that and that was a very kind thought but you have to be careful,” Katjaa pulled Duck close to her and placed a gentle kiss on the side of his head.

“Okay, I’ll be more careful. Promise,” Duck gave a smile to his mom then turned his attention to the stove. “So, what’s step one?”

“We’re going to drain the beef and pat it dry,” Katjaa leaned down and grabbed a food strainer from the lower cupboard.

“On it!” Duck was off like a shot after snatching up the food strainer from his mom.

“Wait!” Katjaa called out, making Duck pause. “We have to reserve the marinade,”

“Oops, okay. I’ll do that,” Duck corrected his action and soon the beef was safely drained. Passing it over to his mom, Duck watched as Katjaa patted the beef dry with paper towels.

“Can you get the olive oil heated up in the dutch oven?” Katjaa smiled over at Duck as she sliced the onions. Duck nodded excitedly and was off once more, preparing the dutch oven.

Once the oil was piping hot Katjaa began to cook the beef in batches, careful to not let the oil splatter when she did so, and told Duck to do the same. Even though he was  a young adult sometimes he still got too excited for his own good and forgot things. The two of them worked well together, making sure the beef was golden brown on all sides as the smells started to permeate the air around them. It was a warm, comforting smell that made Duck nostalgic as his stomach continued to growl.

After about ten minutes they removed the beef cubes and went on to the next step. It was time to cook the bacon and Duck had volunteered to take the lead on this one. Being ever vigilant, he made sure the bacon was cooked to crispy perfection while Katjaa hummed a Belgian tune that made Duck bop his head. Both of them shared a soft smile and soon Katjaa was back over beside him giving him hugs and ruffling his hair.

“Great job. You’re such a wonderful cooking helper,”

Duck gave a light laugh at that and grinned. “I had the best teacher,”

Katjaa gave his head another kiss then gave the instructions for the next step. After the bacon was taken out and put to the side, the onions were thrown in with some salt. The smell cut through the deep, meaty air that the beef and bacon had made, adding notes of onions that complemented it greatly. Soon some flour was added to the dutch oven to coat the caramelized onions and after that the beef broth was used to get any scraps off the bottom. Once all of those had been snagged, Duck gave a thumbs up and Katjaa added the reserved marinade, beef, bacon and thyme.

“Is that everything?” Duck asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation for dinner.

“For now, yes. It needs to cook for an hour and a half first before we finish up the last few steps,”

Those words made Duck’s eyes grow big and his smile faltered. “An hour and a half?!? I thought it would be like twenty minutes. I can’t wait that long!”

Katjaa laughed at that; patience wasn’t her son’s strongest suit. “Don’t worry, you can have a snack to help tide you over,”

“I guess,” Duck mumbled, looking a bit defeated.

“Y’know, Duck, sometimes you just have to stop and smell the stew,” Katjaa placed a hand on her son’s arm and smiled, hoping he would get the twist on the saying. He didn’t. Instead he took it literally and began to smell the stew.

“It smells good,” Duck’s nose scrunched up when he saw his mom laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, it's just I was trying to put a twist on that saying. Y’know the one that talks about stopping to smell the roses. Duck, sometimes you need to slow down and relax, okay?” “Okay,” Duck nodded then tried to think of what to do to pass the time. “Wanna watch a movie while it cooks?”

“I’d love that,” Katjaa smiled and watched in amusement as Duck scampered off to put on Knives Out . He knew that his mom hadn’t seen it yet and he wanted to see if she could guess who the killer was.

It was a fun experience. Duck was on the edge of his seat as he munched on apples and peanut butter while Katjaa threw out guess after guess on who the killer was. Many laughs were shared, gasps given and their attention was captured. The hour and a half flew by in no time and even though they were both reluctant they paused the movie.

Duck repeated his same action from the beginning of dinner prep, his sleeves rolled up for three glorious seconds before falling back down as he helped add in the last few ingredients. Katjaa quickly added in the brown sugar, parsley, mustard and fresh pepper, giving the contents of the dutch oven a quick stir before putting the lid back on. The warm, deep flavors stayed in the air though, overwhelming Duck’s nose in the most wonderful of ways. His steps had a bit more pep to them as he guided his mom back to the living room, excited to finish the movie and then have a feast.

It didn’t take long for both of them to get swept up in the movie again and the reveal of the killer made Katjaa gasp. She gave her commentary as the credits rolled, Duck listening with a big smile as he added his own thoughts here and there. The two continued to gush about their favorite parts of the film as the fries cooked and soon dinner was ready. Duck eagerly set the table for three then looked over at the luscious Belgian stew that held a depth of flavor. The crisp smell of the french fries complemented the stew, adding another layer to the smells that danced around the kitchen.

Just as the table had been set and the food placed down the front door opened, revealing Kenny. He gave a big smile as he shifted his jacket off. “Hey there, Kat, Duck, it smells delicious,” He strolled forward and gave Katjaa a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Alright!” Duck sat down a bit too quickly, nearly slipping off his chair but gave a grin to his parents to show that he was a-okay. “Let’s eat!”

[lynelovespopculture]

THE  CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 14-A SPELLMAN FAMILY SOLSTICE

 Faustus and Zelda had a long recovery in front of them.  Faustus had only awakened 1 hour before his wife so they were healing at the same time. They both were assigned to complete bed rest for the next 3 weeks. In that time, they rested, snuggled together, and watched the defeat of Blackwood video numerous times. They both agreed that there was no foolproof way to get rid of Blackwood forever; they had to just keep their guard up and hope for the best. Zelda also told Faustus how Lilith had reclaimed hell for herself and found happiness with a new Adam. After the 3 weeks of bed rest, Faustus and Zelda were up and around and just in time to help celebrate Sabrina’s 18th birthday. (Since this was Sabrina’s last year at home before college, new rules were set. Thursday nights were family dinner night, absolutely no excuses for not attending, and Sunday was family movie night.)

Later that week, Faustus and Zelda managed to find some time to sit down with just the twins to have a serious talk about the adoption. Zelda explained that this adoption was less about guardianship, as the twins were almost 17, but more of a show of commitment to be their mother. Zelda nodded with understanding when they told her that they wanted time to think about it. Yet, there was 1 issue that the male twin didn’t need to think about at all. Just like his sister, Judas wanted to forget about his life with Blackwood. Soon enough, he confessed that he hated the name of Judas, so with his parents’ full support, changed his name to Jacob.  It wasn’t long at all until he was used to the family calling him Jake. 3 days later, Faustus took Zelda for a romantic dinner in the fanciest restaurant in town. As they clinked their wine glasses together, Faustus explained that it was the 1st anniversary of him being free from the curse. Hearing this, Zelda re-clinked the glasses.

“To the first of many, many years,” She smiled.

They went home, and make wild, passionate love before drifting off in each other’s arms. Late that night, Zelda turned around and found herself alone in bed. She caught Faustus at the entrance of the attic, which Ambrose and Jake now shared.

“I still can’t believe we’re all home now,” Faustus whispered as his wife linked her arm with his. With a kiss, Zelda led him back to their room, where they made love for the 2nd time that night.

  Their 1st solstice all together as a family was a very special one. LJ and Jake were both all smiles as together, they handed Zelda a gift. After wrapping it, Zelda gasped, for the box was filled with papers, but not just any papers. On top were the half-filled adoption papers and beneath that, were papers for legal name changes. The twins explained that not only did they want to be adopted but they were also ready to become Spellmans. All the family couldn’t agree fast enough. Zelda did a pretty good job of blinking back her tears of joy, or she did, right up until the twins called her ‘mom’ for the very 1st time. This happened right after Zelda gave LJ and Jake their Yule present. A thick photo album filled with pictures of their birth mother, Constance, at every stage of life so the twins could look at it whenever they wished.

In the new year, after Hilda and Dr. C celebrated their 1st anniversary and Zelda filed the paperwork for the twins’ adoption and name changes, plans went full steam ahead for LJ and Jake’s joint dark baptism. Jake kept it simple, by picking Jacob Faustus for his baptismal name. LJ’s was longer. LJ explained that her name was to be Letitia Judith Constance Zelda.

“To honor both my mothers.” LJ smiled and Zelda kissed the girl on the head, blinking back happy tears once more.

The baptism, attended by family and coven alike, went off without a hitch. For the next few months, the Spellmans’ lives were blissfully quiet and uneventful. Their lives revolved around work, school, and most importantly, each other. On April 2nd, the whole family gathered to celebrate Cordelia’s first birthday. They threw a party, of course, with cake and gifts but it was Faustus and Zelda who got the best present that day. It was later that night after they readied Cordelia for bed, they sat Cordelia down in front of her crib as they did for the last 3 weeks. It was normal when Cordelia pulled herself up to the crib with her tiny hands but then something new happened. Cordelia took her hands off the crib and took her 1st few unsteady steps towards Zelda. She playfully touched her mother’s cheek before saying her 1st word loud and clear. “Mommy!” After kissing her daughter silly, Zelda turned Cordelia around so she could walk to Faustus. The baby took 3 steps before she stumbled on the 4th and would have fallen but Faustus managed to catch her. He was rewarded with a giant smile. “Daddy!”

 Spring and summer flew by and before anyone knew it, it was September again. Everyone came out to see Sabrina and LJ, who graduated a year early, off to college. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. When she was 3 and big enough for a big girl bed, Cordelia was given Sabrina’s room by her still at college cousin. The following year, Hilda, Faustus, and Sabrina convinced an uneasy Zelda to allow Cordelia to attend mortal kindergarten, just like Sabrina before her. Cordelia’s parents sat her down and explained to her not to talk about witches or use magic at school. They also kept their promise to the witch’s council, to keep them updated on Cordelia’s magical development. Yet, there was little to report. The baby who cried the devil out of the house was growing up as normally as any other little witch, except for a slammed door or a few floating items. Her powers were at their strongest when her emotions were at their peak.  One afternoon, Cordelia wanted to play outside but Hilda explained she couldn’t because it was raining, hard.

“I don’t want it to rain!” As soon as Cordelia stamped her foot, the sun came out. Hilda stared wordlessly, yet Cordelia didn’t even seem to notice. It was on the 1st day of school that Cordelia met Erin, Emily, and Erica Warner, mortal triplet girls who quickly became her BFFs. Meanwhile, with his youngest now in school, Faustus was feeling a little lost.  Ambrose and Jake formed the perfect team to run the funeral home together and the rest of the family were busy with their own thing. 1 night, Zelda suggested her husband should return to teaching. Zelda knew she got through to him and was waiting for Faustus to ask her to return to the academy. So, she was shocked when he told her he gotten a job at Greendale middle school, teaching 7th grade. Theo Putnam was also a new teacher.

 It was a cold night in the late December of Cordelia’s sixth year that the child awoke with a start.

“Who’s there?” She demanded with the greatest demand she could mutter as she sat up and looked around the darkened room. She looked around and saw nothing, yet she felt someone was nearby. Cordelia sighed, this wasn’t a new feeling. She pulled back her blankets and got up. Might as well go to the bathroom while I’m awake. She thought.

“Hey, Salem.” Cordelia petted Sabrina’s familiar on her way back to bed. Then she picked up her favorite doll, tucked it under her arm, sighed as she laid down, and closed her eyes.

 The next thing she knew, sunlight tickled at Cordelia’s eyelids. 1 quick look at the clock and she jolted out of bed and down the hallway. Her own school had let out for Christmas yesterday, but the academy was a year-round boarding school that demanded much of its headmistress. Cordelia felt that she spent less than 10 minutes with her mother all week. Maybe it was still early enough to catch her. She stopped short in her parents’ doorway. Not only was no one in here, but the bed was made and everything was neat, suggesting that both her parents left long ago.

“It's not even 9 yet! Well, so much for that idea.” Cordelia muttered as she headed for the steps. Downstairs, Cordelia found her brother fluttering back and forth before the front door as if he was preparing to go out. “Where’re you going, Jake?” she asked from the stairway.

Jake looked up, pausing as he put on his coat. “Good morning, Cordy. Mom just called, she needs someone to fill in for her with the choir ASAP.”

“Mom’s already at the school?”

Unfortunately, Jake was too busy to notice the sadness in his sister’s tone. “Yeah. Bye.”

Cordelia was left to frown at the closed door when the wonderful smells finally reached her nose. Those smells only appeared when someone special visited. Now wearing a tiny smile, the 6-year-old ran into the kitchen and hugged the visitor from behind. “Hi, auntie H!”

Hilda, who was baking, half-turned and gave her niece a 1 arm hug. “Hello, darling.”

From his stool 3 feet away, Ambrose waved. “Hello, cousin.”

“Hello, another Spellman who no longer lives here.” Cordelia teased good-naturedly and Ambrose laughed. He and Prudence had only moved into a small apartment together downtown 3 months ago.

Meanwhile, Hilda wiped her hands on a towel. “It’s cereal alright for breakfast?”

Cordelia smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“So, Cordy, how did you sleep?” Asked Ambrose.

“Good! For the most part.”

Ambrose and Hilda exchanged a look. “For the most part?” repeated her aunt.

“Ghostbusting again, cuz?”

Cordelia gave Ambrose an annoyed sideways glance. “No, Ambrose. Ghostbusting would imply that I actually see the spirit.”

Ambrose was now confused. “Wait, you don’t see the ghosts? Ever? But you had this problem for a while.”

“Since before feasts of feasts as I recall,” Hilda added.

“I don’t understand. If you can’t see them, how do you know they’re ghosts?”

Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know, it’s just a feeling. Most girls my age are scared of ghosts; I just want them to make up their minds! They should show themselves, tell me what the problem is so I can help or just let me be so I can sleep at night.”

Hilda and Ambrose both had nothing to say so they just stared at the girl. Cordelia sighed, what was needed now was a change of subject and she found it on the serving tray. “Who pops popcorn this early in the morning?”

Ambrose sprang to life. “Oh, I almost forgot!  I was supposed to bring out the cranberries and popcorn to Dr. C and Uncle Faustus. They finally setting up the Yule tree!” Ambrose grabbed the tray and rushed out of the kitchen.

“Well, I got to go too,” Cordelia announced.

“Why?” Asked Hilda.

“Because my bowl of cereal was on that tray!”

Hilda laughed, shook her head, and returned to her baking.

 “I swear, we get this tree up later and later every year.” Faustus sighed.

“Well, we’re busy men,” Dr. C assured him. “Me at my bookstore, you at the middle school. Here comes Ambrose, at last.”

Faustus smiled as the younger warlock rushed in. “We were beginning to think you’d forgotten us.”

“I’m so sorry that it took me so long,” Ambrose said.  “Aunt Hilda and I got to talking and then Cordelia walked in.”

“Oh? Cordy’s up?”

“I sure am!” The child was right on Ambrose’s heels. She was closer to Dr. C so she greeted him first. “Hi, Uncle C” She hugged him and then went over to her father. “Hi, Daddy” she giggled when Faustus kissed the cheek of his youngest child. The 2 men went back to trying to steady the tree, as Ambrose found a chair and began to thread the popcorn and cranberry strings together. After reclaiming her breakfast, at last, Cordelia sat on the sofa and asked about the only thing on her mind.

“How long ago did Mom leave for the academy this morning?”

“About an hour and a half to 2 hours ago” Faustus answered casually. “Why? Do you need her?”

Cordelia frowned. “No, I don’t need her per say, but I do miss her. It’s like I barely have seen her this week.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Faustus soothed his daughter. “While it’s true that Solstice demands more of the high priestess’s time than normal, all she has to do is get through today and perform tomorrow’s midnight mass then Zelda will be free to spend the rest of the holidays with us.”

“Don’t forget when we go get the girls tomorrow.” Dr. C added. “Zelda would never miss that.”

Although both LJ and Sabrina left for college 6 years ago, the girls were still away for their education but for different reasons. Unlike Jake, who left a year after his sister and cousin and return 2 years later, business degree in hand. Poor Sabrina was having a tough time, having changed her major 3 times. On the flip side, LJ had not only completed university in record time but was enrolled in 2 different medical schools. When done, LJ would not only be 1 of the few female witch doctors, she would also be the 1st witch doctor trained in mortal medicine. With a sister on her way to glory and her mother already in the history books as the 1st high priestess, Cordelia was extremely proud of her family and sometimes wondered if greatness lay in her future as well.  Having finished her breakfast, Cordelia now lay the now-empty bowl on the coffee table and went to the old cardboard box that held the tree decorations.  After a few seconds of digging around, Cordelia was able to her favorite one. It was a diamond full moon on 1 side and the other side was a picture frame. The picture itself was taken on her 1st solstice. It was of Zelda, Faustus, and Cordelia herself, when she was still just a baby. While Cordelia stood admiring the photo, Dr. C lost his balance on the step stool and bump into the girl, causing her to lose her grip on the glass moon and it smashed on the floor.

Dr. C rushed to the child’s side. “Oh Cordelia, I’m so sorry!” He hugged her.

Cordelia put on a brave face. “It’s okay, uncle C. We have lots of others.”

As they spoke, the fragments of the glass moon float up in the air and magically fixed itself.

“But this 1 is your favorite,” Faustus held it in the palm of his hand. “I know because it’s my favorite too.”

Cordelia smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Putting up the tree nearly took all day. Cordelia was excused because right after lunch, the Warner triplets called their friend to come with them to go to the mall to see Santa. Cordelia was gone all afternoon and returned just in time for dinner yet her mood seemed to change. She was quiet and seemed angry. At first, Hilda thought her niece was annoyed because Zelda called to say that she was too busy to come home for dinner.  Then, in the middle of supper, Jake knocked over a glass of water. On the other side of the table, his baby sister jumped up in horror.

“You should be more careful!” She shouted before she ran out of the room. Faustus and Hilda found Cordelia in her room pacing back and forth before her bed. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!” She muttered to herself.

“Cordy? What’s wrong?” Faustus asked.

His daughter looked up, frowning. “You should have told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“THAT OUR KIND CAN MELT!!”  Cordelia shouted.

Faustus and Hilda exchanged a confused look. “Cordelia, love,” Hilda said gently, “what exactly did you and your friends do this afternoon?”

Cordelia sighed. “After the trip to the mall to see Santa, Mr. Warner invited me back to their house for hot chocolate and it was there that Erin, Emily, Erica, and I watched a movie.”

“What movie?” Her father asked.

“The Wizard of Oz.”

Both Faustus and Hilda felt instant relief. Hilda left to go inside the bathroom while Faustus took his daughter by the hand, guided her to the bed, so they could both sit down.

“Darling, while it’s true the mortals have short lives, while we witches can live for centuries and centuries. Surely, we can’t live that long if we are in danger of something as common as water.”

“But in the movie-“

“The movie is not real. It’s pretend, make-believe. You remember when you, Mommy, and I had our talk about make-believe?”

Cordelia nodded. “I remember, but it’s so confusing! After all, mortal parents tell their children that witches are make-believe.”

Faustus nodded. “That’s true but I can prove I’m right! Think back to every mass you attended, all the times Zelda took you with her to the academy, have you ever, after all that time with the coven, even seen a green witch?”

“No. Hey, wait  a second, I didn’t tell you that the witch was green! How did you know?”

Faustus laughed. “The Wizard of Oz is a very famous movie and you’re not the 1st witch to get spooked by water after seeing it. I guess you could call it a witch childhood rite of passage by now.”

“Your father’s right,” said Hilda, coming toward the bed, glass in 1 hand. “When your cousin Sabrina saw that movie, she reacted the exact same way you did. That’s when Zelds and I came up with the test.”

“Test? What kind of test?”

“Come here and I’ll show you.” When Cordelia didn’t move and kept staring at the glass, Hilda tried again. “What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me?”

This softened Cordelia immediately. “Of course I do, Auntie H.” The child got off the bed and came forward and Hilda knelt down to look her niece in the eye. “Now just give me 1 of your fingers.” Cordelia offered up a finger. Hilda took it and put the tip of the finger just under.  “Now, how does that feel?”

“Wet.” Was the child’s only reply.

Hilda laughed. “Yes, it’s wet, but what else? Does your finger feel like it is going to fall off or melt?”

Cordelia smiled and shook her head.  Hilda smiled. “Good, the test has worked in our favor yet again.”

“Thank Hecate!” Faustus added. “Can you imagine how foul our world would be if none of us would be allowed to bathe?”

Cordelia laughed at her father’s funny face as Hilda kissed her brow.

  A few hours later, Faustus turned down the bed as Cordelia got ready in the bathroom.

“Cordy, have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“Doing it right now, Dad.”

Faustus couldn’t resist. “With water?”

First, there was silence then came a low moan. Faustus smiled to himself.

Cordelia switched off the bathroom light and walked more into her bedroom. “Hecate, I’m dumb,” She muttered.

When she was close enough, Faustus put his arm around his daughter. “You are not dumb. You, my girl, are 6. Considering how you speak and behave most of the time, it’s easy to forget how young you are.”

Cordelia gave a half-smile. “Still young enough to be read to?”

“Not very subtle, miss Spellman.”

Cordelia giggled and crawled into bed as Faustus grabbed the book on the nightstand. Some little girls like fairy tales, most, at least, like a story with a plot. But most nights, Cordelia favored spell books, especially the Latin ones, even though Cordelia didn’t speak the language. She said it soothed her faster. Tonight, Faustus only read a page and a half before Cordelia was fast asleep. He tucked her in and tiptoed out of the room. The next thing Cordelia was aware of; someone was arranging her blankets. Her 1st thought was that the troublesome ghost was back but she was instantly awake when she saw who it really was.

“Mommy! I missed you so much today!” Cordelia sat up and threw herself into Zelda’s arms.

Zelda kissed her brow. “I’ve missed you too, little one. I didn’t mean to wake you, but your father told me that you had a scare today.”

“That’s not important,” Cordelia dismissed. “Will you come with us to pick up LJ and Sabrina tomorrow morning?”

Zelda nodded. “I will, but I must get back to the academy by early afternoon at the very latest.”

Cordelia frowned. “But tomorrow is the day before Solstice. You always spend it with us.”

“I know precious but we’re so behind this year. I mean, the church is not yet decorated or prepared for midnight mass yet.”

“How about I go with you? That way you could get your work and we could still be together.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“No! Wait! Don’t go yet.” Cordelia grabbed her book. “Read to me.”

“It’s late, Cordelia.”

“Please, Mom?”

Normally, Zelda would have held firm but she felt massively guilty about barely being home lately. Zelda sighed and took the book. “Move over.”

An hour later, Faustus went to look for his wife and found Zelda and Cordelia snuggled up together, both fast asleep. Faustus went to Zelda to whisper to her. “It’s late, my love. We’re going to have to leave for the airport, well, in just a few hours now.”

“Mmm,” was Zelda’s only reply.

It was only then that he saw the book. “Did Cordy get another story out of you?”

Again, “Mmm.”

“Dearest, are you asleep?”

“Mmm?”

Faustus smiled. “That’s what I thought.” Gently, he put 1 hand under Zelda’s head and the other 1 under her knees. Then he carried Zelda out of Cordelia’s room and back to their own bed.

 Even though they had only been home a few weeks before for feats of feasts, Sabrina and LJ’s homecoming was a joyful one. At the airport, there was much hugging and kissing, done by all the family. The morning flew by with all their laughing, talking, and catching up. After lunch, most of the family went to the church with Zelda to help set things up, yet Sabrina went for a different reason. All Sabrina had to do was wait for an opportunity to talk to her aunts alone. She got 2 and chickened out both times. Fed up with her own failure, Sabrina teleported herself back to Spellman’s kitchen and groaned.

“Just tell them, you coward!”

The loud whistle of the kettle startled Sabrina. She turned and saw Faustus at the stove,1 of his eyebrows rose. “Something wrong, Sabrina?”

She could feel her eyes watering. “Yes.”

Faustus said the 1st thing that came to mind. “Are you changing your major again?”

Sabrina shook her head. “No, I’m not changing my major. I’m not going back to school at all!” There, she finally said it.

For his part, Faustus got out 2 cups and saucers, poured the tea, and sat down at the table with Sabrina.

“I can’t seem to bring myself to tell Auntie Hilda and Aunt Z. I wasted 5 years, 3 majors, and all that money. My aunties are going to be so disappointed.”

In an effort to comfort his niece, Faustus took Sabrina’s hand in his. “All your aunts have ever wanted for you is to be happy.”

“I tried, I tried so hard.” Sabrina’s lip quivered.

“I know,” Faustus soothed. “Maybe this could be a blessing in disguise,” he suggested. “Maybe, by taking a semester off will help you relax and figure out for sure what you really want to do.”

“But I was sure all those times I change my majors,” Sabrina stressed.

“You know, 1 of my favourite teachers once told me that the secret to professional success is to pick something that you love and are good at.”

“But I don’t know what I’m good for a job.”

“What about helping people? You’re good at that.”

“But that could any career.” Sabrina pointed out.

“How about a therapist? I would be lost without mine.”

Sabrina smiled. “A therapist? Me? You remember I’m the one who causes most of the problems around here?”

“Oh, that was when you were a teenager,” Faustus dismissed. “You’re grown up a lot since then. Besides, if nothing else, the outlook of a half-mortal, half-fallen angel raised by witches is bound to be interesting.”

Sabrina laughed. “True. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks, Uncle Faustus.”

He was shocked. “You’ve never called me uncle before.”

“I know but it’s high time I did.”

 “Dad? I’ve been wondering something for a long time, but I’m not sure how to ask.”

It was late that night and Faustus was readying Cordelia for midnight mass. In his opinion, she looked great. His daughter was wearing a new red dress, her white winter tights, and shiny black Mary Janes. He was now adding the finishing touch of a ribbon in her red hair, exactly like her mother’s. “Cordy, don’t be scared. You know you can ask me anything.”

“Okay, Dad, don’t you believe? I mean, I know that Uncle C isn’t a warlock, so it makes sense that he doesn’t share our faith, but why don’t you believe?”

“But I do believe, sweetheart. I was baptized the night after you were born.”

Cordelia seemed confused. “You were?! Then why don’t you ever attend mass?”

Faustus sighed. “You have to leave in a few minutes and it’s a very long story and I promise that someday we will discuss this in greater detail, but for now all I can tell you that when I was high priest, before you were born, I did things that I am deeply ashamed of. The coven has since forgiven me but I am still weary of being near them.  I do attend mass, in fact, I’m there every week, but I don’t sit up front with the rest of the family, I actually like to sit in the very back pew. I also like to be the last one to arrive and the first one to leave. I like it when the coven doesn’t even notice me.”

Cordelia thought for a moment and then said, “Are you sorry about what you did?”

“Oh, Hecate, yes! I’m sorrier than anyone can ever know.”

Cordelia shrugged. “Then the coven has to forgive you. It’s just good manners.”

Faustus hugged his daughter, grateful for her innocent logic.

   A little later, Cordelia found herself at the church, sitting in the front pew with Hilda, Sabrina, Ambrose, and the twins while Prudence sang in the choir. Even at 6, Cordelia felt proud that it was her mother who performed the service, glorious in her white and gold robes. During the middle of the service, Cordelia took advantage of her end seat and looked toward the back. Sure enough, she found her father, who waved at her. After mass, Cordelia stayed behind to help clean up and help her mother say goodbye to the coven. When they drove home, there a raven haired woman near the stairs. Cordelia didn’t know who the lady was but, judging the way her mother was gripping the wheel, Cordelia guessed her mother did.

“Is she the one who keeps bothering you?” Zelda asked.

“No, I don’t think so. Mom, who is that?”

“Go inside and get dressed for bed, Cordy. It’s late.”

Cordelia did as she was told but she did pick up some bits of dialogue.

“Bright solstice, Zelda.”

“What are you doing here, Lilith?”

“Come now, surely I’m allowed to check up on my son’s future bride.”

That was all Cordelia heard. 10 minutes later, Zelda came into Cordelia’s room to kiss her daughter goodnight.

“Mom?  I heard you and that lady talking. Who’s getting married? Prudence or LJ?”

“No one in this house is getting married!” Zelda declared firmly.

Zelda went to bed mad and woke up even angrier. “I don’t get it, Faustus.” She said to her husband as they went downstairs for breakfast. “We heard or seen nothing of Lilith these past 6 years and the 1st thing she mentions is that stupid marriage contract that I signed in invisible ink and can’t possibly be binding. Lilith knows that! What game is she playing at?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Faustus answered honestly. “Whenever it is, we’ll deal with it together like we always do. Today is solstice. It’s time to celebrate that and the fact that this is your 1st day off in weeks. Then, later on, tonight, I get to show you how terribly I and our bed, have missed you.”  He kissed her hard before they walked into the kitchen, hand in hand.

 According to tradition, the family waited until sundown to gather round the Yule tree and start exchanging gifts. Half an hour later, the get together was in full swing, with music, talking, and laughing all filling the air. It was about this time that Faustus gave Zelda a small blue ring box. Inside was the 6th annual charm that Faustus gave his wife every Yule to go on the bracelet that he had given her on their 1st Solstice that they spent together as a married couple. However, the meaning of this year’s charm was lost on Zelda.

“A white rose?”

Faustus nodded. “A symbol of eternal love.”

Zelda gave a sly smile. “Yours or mine?”

Faustus laughed and stroked his wife’s cheek as he received Zelda’s thank you kiss. Then Faustus stood up and grabbed a skinny gift from under the tree. He passed it to Cordelia.  “Speaking of jewellery, here a little something from your mother and me.” Cordelia smiled as she took the gift and unwrapped it. It turned out be a golden chain with a crescent moon attached, not unlike her own birthmark. She looked up at her parents from her place on the floor.

“I love it! Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Mom.” Cordelia got up and hugged both her parents.

“May Hecate bless and keep you, my Cordelia.” Zelda smiled at her daughter.

“Amen.”

“Oh, it seems we ran out of music and could use a new Christmas CD.” Hilda sighed.

“I’ll go change it since I’m up.”  Cordelia offered and journeyed to the stereo but before she got there, she passed a window and froze.  She looked very upset.

It was Hilda who first noticed her distress.  “Cordy, darling? What’s wrong?”

“It’s her,” Came her niece’s reply. “The ghost that keeps up me at night. She’s right outside.”

“How do you know? You said you never saw her.” Ambrose pointed out.

Cordelia shook her head. “I never did, but I always felt her just as I feel her now and I’m looking straight at her.”

Faustus got up to collect his daughter.  “Come sit down, sweetheart.  We’ll figure all this out later.” Yet just as he put an arm around Cordelia, he looked out the window and saw the ghost too. “Constance?”

“Faustus, may I see you out in the hall for a minute?” Zelda asked as she rose.

 “I think we should let Constance in.”

Faustus couldn’t believe his ears. “What?  Zelda dearest, what are you saying?”

“Well, I think it’s perfectly oblivious why she’s here.”

Faustus nodded. “Yes, she’s here to ruin our family solstice.”

“No,” his wife disagreed, “I think she’s here to see her children, the twins, as is her right.”

“I think you’re giving her too much credit. Don’t you remember how she behaved the last time we made contact with her? You had to bar her from the house!”

“That was over 6 years ago. Maybe she changed.”

“Changed?!” Faustus sneered. “Then why has she  been  bothered Cordy for over a month?”

“Why don’t you go out there and ask her yourself?”

“Fine, I will,” Faustus agreed. “But you’re coming with me.”

A moment later, Zelda and Faustus stepped out onto the frozen porch. Constance was right before them.

“If we allow you into this house, will you abide by its rules and customs?” Faustus asked.

Constance smiled as she nodded. “I will.”

“Come in. You are welcome.” With those simple words, Zelda broke her own spell.

The whole family was shocked when Faustus and Zelda returned with the ghost. Hilda was the 1st to recover.

“Um, Ambrose, Prudence, Sabrina, Cordy, could you come to help me and your uncle C in the kitchen?”

“I think I’ll join you.” Zelda turned to join the family, but Constance called her back. “Please stay, Zelda, there’s something I would like to say to you too.”

“Ok.” Zelda was unsure as she slid into her chair next to Faustus. The twins were sitting on the sofa. Zelda noticed that the twins were holding hands, something they only did when they were really anxious.

“Is it true?”  Jake asked. “Are you really our mother?”

“She’s only our birth mother,” his sister answered him, “Zelda is our real mother.”

“LJ, please!” Zelda didn’t mean it, but her mothering tone came through.

Constance didn’t seem to mind as she stared at the twins and smiled. “You are both so beautiful.”  She touched LJ’s face. “My daughter on her way to becoming a witch doctor!”

Jake lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not a genius like LJ.”

“Are you happy, my son?”

“I am.”

Constance smiled. “That’s all that matters.”

“And we’re safe,” LJ added.

“That’s right,” Jake agreed. “Blackwood is no more.”

Constance smiled. “I know; I’ve been watching you. I’ve been watching all of you.” Constance turned. “Which brings me back to you, Zelda Spellman. I have something important to say to you. Thank you. Ever since you dispatched with Blackwood, you have done everything to make sure that my children felt safe and loved. I can never thank you enough for that.”

LJ got up and walked to Zelda’s side. “Why would even doubt her? She cared for us when we were babies. I mean, this is the same woman who whisked me away at birth and loved me when she didn’t have to.”

You must understand,” Constance stressed. “The last time I saw Zelda; she was heavily pregnant. I thought that she would prefer her own child and become a petty and jealous stepmother to the 2 of you. Just” Constance sighed and cast down her eyes in shame. “Just as I did with Prudence. Happily, that didn’t happen. She loves you as if you were her own.”

“I love them because they are my own,” Zelda said gently, “Just as Cordelia and Prudence are. Perhaps you would have learned this if you’ve survived but a mother’s heart can never be too full.”

“Wait,” Jake was confused. “If all you wanted was to have a peaceful heart-to-heart, then why have you been bothering Cordy all this time?”

Constance looked startled.  “Have I?   I didn’t mean to. Please apologize to her for me.”

LJ leaned in to whisper in Zelda’s ear.  “I guess the divine child’s powers can pick up a rogue ghost better than we can.”

Zelda’s focus was elsewhere at the moment. “Constance, you’re glowing. You’ve never looked better.”

The ghost blushed like a schoolgirl. “Am I? Well, I guess being at peace agrees with me then. You see, I recently re-met a friend from childhood on the other side, and he has been helping me to put aside my anger and bitterness. I’m starting to see things differently now. Zelda, I understand that you didn’t set out to break up my marriage, Faustus’s heart was yours long before I came around. It’s perfectly fine that my children have 2 mothers, as long as they are loved and protected.”

Sensing that her time was up, Constance kissed both her children and turned to leave when

“Wait.” It was the 1st time Faustus had spoken since they had all sat down. Now, he stood and when to the ghost. “Constance, I have never seen you speak so tenderly or behave so kindly. I just to say I’m sorry. We never were a love match but I could have been kinder to you during our marriage. Not pressuring you for a son, been more of a comfort during your miscarriages. Enjoy the happiness you have now; you certainly deserve it. Bright Solstice.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. The lights flicked and then the ghost was gone.

It was when Constance was gone that Jake fell on his knees before Zelda. “We love you, bonus mom.”

LJ hugged her. “We sure do.”

Faustus watched this touching scene for a moment and then turned his attention to the hallway.  “Okay, guys, you can come out now. Don’t think I don’t see you spying over there!”

The guilty gang filed back into the living room and the Solstice celebrations continued.1 hour later, the room was quiet as Ambrose read Charles Dickins’ A Christmas Carol aloud. Fearing that she would too big to do it next year, Cordelia grabbed her favorite blanket and settled herself on Zelda’s lap. She was going to ask if she was too heavy when her mother held her closer.

“Hecate, bless us, everyone,” Cordelia whispered.

[ahnsael]

So...we’ve got this new guy in town, just moved here from California (I don’t say that to disparage him -- a lot of locals in rural Nevada don’t like Californians moving here, but while I moved here from Washington, I’m a native Californian).

I met him yesterday morning at work, where (a) he told me that he was spending the first of his two nights in a motel across the street while waiting for the property he bought (on which he intends to raise cattle) goes through, (b) kept wanting to talk politics (he has yet to accept what I told him, that politics and religion are no-go topics in casinos), (c) told me his “real name” (he goes by Joe, but it’s actually Kenneth and I forget the middle and last names which is lucky for him because I’d be googling him to see if he’s been up to no good and needs to be reported because I do not like him and the reason I don’t like him is because:) (d) he mentioned the BLM protest we had in town a few weeks ago and threatened violence if I had any black people I wanted him to “take care of” (hence the reason I’d be googling his name to see if he needs to be reported), (e) spends more time walking around and talking to people who would rather not be bothered than he does playing, (f) refers to this area as the “wild west” on a constant basis, (g) told me this morning that he was penniless but also told me he won more money (at another local casino) than he ever thought possible and was giving money to random people -- he’s like a reverse panhandler -- but he gave me a $1 coin good at the tables at that other casino, but later asked to buy it back from me for $1 (this dude is QUICKLY going to become a gambling addict and destroy his life), and (h) after telling me he was penniless, asked if I would allow him to take a nap in the casino.

Oh, and (i) he keeps pulling his bandanna that he uses as a facemask (and with his cowboy hat he TOTALLY looks like an old-time train robber) to talk, and I keep having to tell him that he’s defeating the purpose of the face covering, since a person lets out more aerosols when speaking than when just breathing. And I’m TIRED of fighting people over masks, so I have very little patience for people who try to get around the mandate that Nevada has in place (we had a guy come in this morning holding a paper towel over his mouth and thought that was good enough -- I had him out the door in less than 30 seconds when he refused to buy an actual mask for $1).

I didn’t ask the wannabe cowboy Joe about the second night in the motel that he had mentioned yesterday when he asked if I would let him camp out in the casino to sleep. I just told him that if anyone tries to use our casino as a rest stop to catch some ZZZ’s, we throw them out. Then he told me that all his belongings were next to our dumpsters, and I had to tell him that we are not a storage facility, and that he couldn’t just stash his belongings here (at this point I’m guessing the motel threw him out). I then showed him the door, and he spent some time sitting on the edge of the highway. The next time I checked around the area (to make sure he wasn’t sleeping in some corner of our property), his stuff was there, but he wasn’t. The next time I took a look around, his stuff was gone. The last time I had a character like this, the guy won a taxable jackpot but I could not pay him because he said he didn’t have any ID. I can’t process a taxable jackpot without verifying identification. Well, that guy ended up getting arrested for Arson after burning down a historical train depot.

I get the same vibe off this new guy.

I’m hospitable to him (to a point) because that’s my job. But it seems that after his first meeting with me, he’s decided that I’m his best friend in town, and is now looking to take advantage of our casino’s hospitality.

I do answer his questions honestly, though. If I don’t want to answer someone, I say so. And this wasn’t politics, it was a legal question (and I made it clear that I’m not a lawyer and to take my advice with a grain of salt). He asked about marijuana in Nevada and I told him it’s legal in a home, but not in public, but that a deputy also told me that it’s okay to smoke it in your car if the keys aren’t in the ignition and you aren’t operating it (he told me he smokes it all day every day and I fought the urge to say “I know, you smell like you do that”). But when he told be that he stepped outside the casino to smoke some on the sidewalk, I honestly told him that if a deputy would have noticed it, he would have been in trouble. Our deputies are even more “by the book” on law than I am on casino regulations.

(Don’t get me wrong -- while I haven’t smoked it in many years, I did used to, so I get it and I don’t judge him for it, but it’s just not my scene anymore; I just wanted to be honest to the guy who is new in town and hasn’t met our deputies yet, which I have -- on most occasions pleasant conversations but I did have that one thing some of you know about where my interaction didn’t end well for me because I was in the wrong).

I am probably going to have to “unfriend” this guy soon and 86 him if he keeps coming around. The only thing that worries me is the fact that he threatened violence against black people if they cross him (he mentioned taking them to an abandoned silver mine -- of which we have plenty in this part of Nevada -- and “either they jump voluntarily or I kick them in”) so I already know he has violent tendencies.

And I need to make sure our other guests (who he is trying to be too friendly with too soon (I had to turn him away from someone last night that I KNOW doesn’t liked to be talked to [any more than a “hello” the first time I see them that night] when they play, because I saw him approaching her). When he asked if he could talk to people, I told him to “read them” to see if they were open. He obviously isn’t reading the room well. So...it’s a choice of “do I 86 this new guy who seems to really like our casino, or do I let him be and make him a fan?” or “do I let this guy possibly alienate this guy to ensure the safety and comfort of our other guests?” I think I need to try to convince him to get a player’s card. That way I can watch his play levels. He bragged about winning $40 at our casino yesterday. Then, this morning, he bragged about winning more than he thought possible at another casino, but told me he was broke. If this is one of those guys who spends $1 and hopes it lasts him hours, I will have a MUCH shorter leash than if he gambles hundreds or thousands (a person can start with $20, never put any more money in, and we see that they’ve gambled “thousands” if they win enough to keep their initial stake going for a long time, because everything they win and put back in counts towards what they have wagered). And my bosses look at those numbers when we 86 someone. So I could 86 this guy and they have no record of him, and I’m in the clear...but if I get him to get a player’s card, and his play is low, it strengthens my case with the owner on getting this guy PERMANENTLY 86′d. Because as much as our owner loves every opportunity he can get to make money, even he has a point where he will approve a permanent trespass notice (I can only trespass someone for up to 72 hours).

[purplexflamingo]

 Selma hummed pressing her ear very close to the phone to block out the hustle and bustle of the dinner. This was her only chance to hear his voice after several weeks. Having no phone she resorted to begging her boss to use the dinner’s. 

“ Ma, I did it!”

“ Did what, hun?”

 Using her spare hand she cupped her other ear. Growing slightly nervous as she was timed with this phone call as to not tie up the lines. This was in exchange for her break. 

“ I shot it! That deer that was eatin’ outta our garden, I GOT ‘EM GOOD! Just like granpaw showed me. Memaw said he’d be proud of me saving the garden. I also got bit by a snake!” 

“ Are you alright?!”

 The child’s words alarmed her greatly. Eyes scanning the floors waiting for a response.

“ Yeah! Memaw patched me up and she showed me how to drain the bite.”

 A wave of jealousy washed over her, she felt awful that she wasn’t able to be there to do that. Now she worried for more accidents. But she was grateful for her mother.

“ I also got burned on my arm ‘cause I tried to help in the kitchen. Memaw said she’d spank me for bein’ impatient, but said I was punished enough.---”

 She shook her head, but soon was alerted by her boss bellowing and shooting a sharp glare toward her.

“ Selma get back to work now. You’re tyin’ up the line.”

 Biting her bottom lip she listened to the child’s babble and rambles, then she forced herself to speak.

“ Mama has to go now, baby. I love yo---”

“ When will I see you again? And papa? When can I come home?”

The stress began to build up every time he inquired about the situation. There was no way this would happen anytime soon. Much to her despair things weren’t looking to well for the future right now. 

“ I don’t know yet, baby. I’ll call you first thing when mama finds out.”

“ Can he call me?”

...

“ Baby, he ain’t got no phone and no matter how many times I tell him he won’t be gettin’ one. He’s a stubborn man.”

“ Bring him to the one you use!”

 Closing her eyes she felt frustrated, the child meant well, but she couldn’t stand to break his heart. The excitement in his voice made matters worse.

“ I-I really gotta go-- I love you, hun.”

Hanging up the phone, she inhaled sharply and tried to leave all of her problems outside of the door to focus on work. Another waitress noticed Selma struggling and pipped up. “ Doll, why don’t you call it a night? I’ll take your last hour....go home and rest. You look stressed.”

She felt it...

“ R-really? Thank you.”

 As much as she should’ve stayed she couldn’t stand it. She was barely maintaining herself at this point. Leaving was such a huge relief. 

----

Huffing she began counting the small amount of money in her grasp. Payment from last weeks wages was less than before. It was heart breaking. She couldn’t find another job, due to her location and she couldn’t afford to lose her job at the diner. Irritated she wept, hands covering her face. She was drowning in her father’s father’s debts and needed to repair her inherited home before her son could come up. It’s been two months since she seen him. If she didn’t call him today, it would’ve been two weeks since she heard his voice.

She had no phones, couldn’t afford it. So she worked out a deal with her boss at the diner. Who would let her make a call every couple of weeks. Though the phone lines were terrible, always dropping calls. 

Dallas, a large dog lied at her feet. Concerning brown hues locked on Selma. Soon she began nudging her head at her owner’s knee to be pet. With the notion she gently rubbed the puppy dog’s head. It was soothing and actually distracted her from sobbing.

Dumping the small amount of funds into a jar to collect with the rest. Slowly she was on the path, but she keeps finding road blocks along the way. Reaching into her apron pocket she pulled out a folded image. In sloppy hand writing it read “Jesse 4/5/73 - age 10″. Fingers traced the child’s face. This served as a reminder and aided her in achieving his return. 

Eventually rising from her chair, she made Dallas and herself food. With what she had and the best that she could do. During doing so she remembered Drayton’s offer. Checking the clock she hoped he’d stay after six, assuming that was the time she’d reach that destination. 

So she set out after dinner, leaving Dallas at home. By the time she reached Last Chance Gas Station it was pouring down hard. She was soaked instantly. The building awning gave her shelter. Knocking repeatedly she desperately hoped he’d be inside. After moments of waiting she nearly gave up till the door clicked and the handle turned. 

“ W-we’re closed can’t ya read the----”

 Drayton warned, until he noticed just who was standing before him. Thick brows rose, blinking for a moment, his eyes felt strange. To her it felt like he was looking right past her. As if he wasn’t mentally there. 

“ I apologize for disturbin’ you, but I needed to speak with you.”

 “ C-come come, come in. You’re all wet-- git outta this weather your gotta wind up catchin’ a damn cold out there. Have you lost your mind?”

Letting her inside, he was quick on his feet to obtain a towel. Shaking it off violently before wrapping it around her person. 

“ T-thank you...”

 Quietly she voiced and used the towel to rub against herself. Guiding her to the small bathroom, he expressed. 

“ You can freshen up in the restroom if you need. I-I don’t have any clean clothes to offer. Not here.“

 Nodding she went right inside where she began to ring out her dress and try to dry herself off. Getting ready to turn on his heel, Drayton noticed a piece of paper on the ground just before the door she entered. Bending over he snatched it up with two fingers. Waving the picture to air it off. It was slightly wet. Making his way to the front counter where he picked up his reading glasses and wore them. Reading the back before flipping it over to examine the photo itself. Thinking nothing much of the image, it must of belonged to her. No one else was in here expect her. 

Noticing the door open he went to mention the photo, but she interrupted him.

“ You remember what we talked ‘bout last week. H-how you’d let me work here? Can I accept your offer now?”

“ I....’Course you can. I can’t pay ya too much, I’m strugglin’ here myself. The least I can do is give you little pay and provide you food.”

 Nodding, she wanted to make it clear she was willing to take little instead of nothing and his kindness of offering food was a nice touch. She almost forgot to even go down to the market to shop. 

“ I-I’ll take it! I’ll do anythin’!”

“ Money troubles?”

 Hesitant to ask at first, but he came to that conclusion. Selma plopped down at the nearest booth. Seeming almost defeated. 

“ Yes, ever since my pops passed away I’ve been left with family debts. I know you weren’t fond of Henry...but it’s been rough.”

 Just mentioning her own father’s name, she recalled the exact day her father succumbed to a heart attack before her own child’s eyes.Jesse was so scared, she had to comfort the child while dealing with her father’s situation. It was too overwhelming.

“ Losin’ a family member is always hard. I....I am sorry for your loss.”

 His words were comforting and the fact he refrained from any vulgar words about Henry meant a lot. Given how tough their past was. Drayton always seemed so collected. Resting her elbows on the table top she planted her chin on the palms of her hands. Across from her he decided to it. Letting out a sigh to follow.

“ You dropped this here photograph-- of Jesse. It must be yours I haven’t seen this photograph before.”

 Hearing the child’s name escape his lips triggered her. Eyes widened in panic and her heart rate increased. There was this lump in her throat that made it difficult for her to swallow. As he extended the image she snatched it. Taken back by her actions he stared in confusion.

“ Who is Jesse?”

He curiously asked. Selma was entirely quick to dismiss the topic as she was not ready to talk about Jesse as her plans have fallen through. And to possibly jeopardize everything was frightening. The pressure just kept stacking on that she wouldn’t be able to take anymore of it. Noticing how tense she was Drayton tried to lighten the mood.

“ Heh, well he is a cute kid-- whoever he is. I am sorry I didn’t mean to intrude on your personal life.” 

 Reacting so coldly left a bitter taste in her mouth, she hated this. Though he responded rather calmly and apologized even. It was tearing her apart. But now was not the time to talk about it.

“ When can I start?”

 The cook was studying her closely, squinting even. It was obvious he was picking up on her strange behavior and mannerisms. Usually she was easy to read, but tonight she seemed off. 

“ Tomorrow, Noon-ish? Hows that sound?”

“ G-great! I might get here a little earlier. Thank you so much.”

 Excusing herself from the booth she began to gather her things. Slipping the image back into her pocket. Now she’ll worry about it escaping on her walk. 

“ You ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout goin’ back out there in that rain are ya?”

“ That’s how I got here.”

 Waving his hands he refused to let her do so. 

“ No, no, no you wait right here. Let me get my truck and I’ll take ya home.”

“ Oh, Drayton, you really don’t have to.”

 Hanging up his apron he grabbed his keys and went out back to start his truck to pull up to the front of the building. From there he did in fact get his way as she climbed into the truck. On the drive to her home she was silent and severely conflicted. She wanted to confess, but she feared the outcome. She feared change and destruction of what small relationship she saved. Periodically he’d glance over towards her noticing her dejected expression. He wanted to speak, but all that could come out was nervous chuckles.

 The trucks motion was very relaxing, she felt herself sway and become extremely tired. Fighting the urges to rest the whole ride was difficult. Finally she gave in and drifted to sleep leaning on the side of Drayton, he didn’t seem to pry her off him and she stayed that way the entire ride. Though he woke her once they arrived at her home. Drayton was unable to carry her, but he did make sure she made it into her house. Dallas eagerly awaited their entrance and she pranced. Hopping up onto Drayton causing him to get annoyed and tell her to get down. Selma sleepily followed his guidance, his hand wrapped around her arm bringing her to her bedroom. From there he pulled down her covers. Made her sit down on the bed before removing her shoes. Then he had her lie down on the bed, covering her up with the thicker blanket.

“ Get some rest.”

 Calmly he whispered and she finally responded while under her sleepy haze. 

“ G’night-- I love you Drayton.”

Then she was out like a light. Glancing back one last time before Drayton locked up and left. 

[rkxiao]

november evaluation, 2017

                                                                     M O C K   I N T E R V I E W

the fact they couldn’t know what questions they’d ask was a little bit troublesome, but that’s how things worked in the debuted life. she had to deal with it. thankfully, cheng xiao had grown out of her nervousness. she used to be nervous just by looking at someone, but the girl couldn’t have been calmer while waiting for unknown questions to hit her. in some way, she was actually excited about it. the wait was tremendously boring; days passed by as any other. sitting in that chair, staring at her coach while she waited for him to be ready - that was true excitement.

“nervous?” he started shuffling his notes. maybe he was looking for something, maybe it was the first time he saw them - she wouldn’t know. “nope.” the gathering of paper on his lap was probably the entire content of her evaluation, but the man had only really bothered to organize them on the spot. weirdly typical. “don’t embarrass me, please.” she gave him a smile, hiding her eyes with her cheeks. “well, isn’t that our job?”

[ PLEASE INTRODUCE YOURSELF AND YOUR POSITION IN THE GROUP ]

xiao straightened her back and gave him one of her idol smiles. “hello, my name is cheng xiao and i’m the main rapper.” that was something rather tough to spit. trc was known for having strong rappers, and they had yubin there way before they even knew xiao existed. still, it was nothing more than a mock interview. she hadn’t debuted yet, and no one really knew when it’d actually happen. maybe they’d debut yubin first and then she’d get to be the main rapper of her own group. still, she already knew all of the current trainees, and not debuting with them wasn’t a very enjoyable thought.

“i’m also the chinese interpreter.” xiao couldn’t help but let out a quick giggle. “some of our members speak english too, but im their go-to chinese speaker. maybe my name didn’t give it away, but...” she leaned in a bit closer, cupping one side of her mouth with a hand. “i’m chinese.”

[ WHAT SPECIAL TALENTS DO YOU HAVE? ]

it was like a flashback slapped her on the face. she should have noticed earlier how much it all reminded her of the mgas, but it only really hit her then. xiao grew up not having special talents, and people often joked about it. still, it was all people liked to ask for in the idol industry. she had struggled for a long time while staring at her form trying to come up with anything that could be considered a talent. it couldn’t just be something that you were good at, but something that people would remember. “well, let me show you.”

she started by opening her mouth, a finger helping making it wider. slowly but surely, xiao started pushing her hand between her lips, and before long her entire fist sat in her mouth. as a finishing touch a ‘ta-da!’ tried making its way out, but it ended up sounding more like ‘tfda-da’. xiao freed her hand soon after, not wanting to keep herself in that position. “i’m also great at peeling fruit. and i can do a bit of tumbling.” the girl shrugged. “nothing as impressive.”

[ HOW WAS IT LIKE COMING TO SEOUL AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE? DID YOU EVER FEEL LONELY? ]

while he continued with the questions xiao dried her hand with a towel he had so kindly provided. “well, i was thirteen which isn’t that young of an age.” moving before you even knew how to speak sounded better than moving when you were thirteen, actually. she had already lived more than two full hands worth of years only to start living in a place where she didn’t know the people or the language. thankfully the second part wasn’t much of a struggle, but socializing with the unknown continued as a problem for a long time.

“it was definitely weird. i had never traveled to anywhere outside of china before, so completely moving to south korea was a very weird experience.” she really only remembered not remembering. the entire process of airport and flying was blank inside her head. there was still a clear image of the guard telling her to walk past the metal detector twice, but it was probably just because it was incredibly scary. “i couldn’t really speak the language which was quite a challenge. if watching a movie from a different country is weird try living in one.”

one of her fingers moved her bangs around, trying not to make the answer too dense. “i had a hard time fitting in because i was always a very quiet child, but at least at home, i had my family with me. we used to speak a lot in mandarin back then so it wasn’t too different, but now we’ve been talking more in korean, even when it’s just us in our house.”

[ WERE THERE ANY TRAINEES/ANYONE THAT HELPED YOU THROUGH THIS PERIOD? ]

“joy was definitely a life saver.” unlike the airport situation, her first day in trc was perfectly engraved on her skull. the fear of everything and the feeling of being lost had never been as strong as on that day. “she was one of the first people who welcomed me to trc and, as weird as that sounds, she found me drinking juice in a bathroom.” xiao was extremely embarrassed about that, but it was a funny story to tell people. it made them want to simply know why, which prompted her to keep talking about it. that sounded exactly like what an interview needed. “orange juice always made me feel calm, and since it was my first day i really needed to appease my nerves.”

xiao could have mentioned a lot of the trainees, but she didn’t want it to get repetitive. “i did have some friends who helped me settle in south korea in general. one of them i had actually met back in china, and we got to meet again here in seoul.” xuanyi wasn’t too much of a constant in her life anymore, but ignoring her completely wouldn’t have made much sense. each friendship left a mark on you, and the younger had that effect on anyone. “the other one is actually korean, but... also speaks mandarin, so it connected both of my worlds that needed connection.” she knew how dating scandals worked, and to mention she had a male friend could be enough to damage entire reputations. baekhyun was still of great help, but their friendship would be kept a secret.

[ COULD YOU RANK YOUR GROUP MEMBERS ACCORDING TO VISUAL RANKING? ]

her head dropped to one side, unsure of what would be the best answer to that. “i could…” whenever she watched the groups she liked refusing even a single attempt it got her rather upset. it was nice to see how other people portrayed attractiveness, but when someone placed her favorite as last it could also easily make her sad. “i could make a top three if you’d like?” that sounded like a good middle term.

“first place would definitely be joy. maybe i’m getting my feelings mixed with this answer, but she’s one of the most gorgeous people i’ve ever met.” and it was no lie. cheng xiao admired the other in many ways, and her physical appearance was one of them. “i think for second place… everyone else?” she combusted into laughter, a hand flying in front of her mouth to hide behind. it was a harder task than she had previously thought, but a first place was better than no ranking at all. “so joy is first, then i’d be somewhere in the bottom ranks, for sure. my groupmates are all very pretty.”

[ WHO IN YOUR GROUP WOULD YOU WANT TO DO A SUB-UNIT WITH? ]

it was funny because they had already thought about it. they talked about it. the two girls didn’t seem to be anywhere close to debuting but far away dreams were already taking over their heads. “i’d love to be in a sub-unit with dayoung.” they had been good friends even before trc, so the fact they ended up in the same company must have been some sort of sign from the stars. “we’re very close friends and also the two youngest in our group. since trc was always known for its strong image i think having a cute sub-unit would be a great idea.”

she nodded along to her own words, agreeing with everything she said. “two-membered sub-units happened already, but if they want something bigger i’d gladly accept joy into our special gathering. it’d be the full maknae line sub-unit. no one would stop us.”

[ CAN YOU PLEASE DO THE OPPA YA SONG FOR YOUR FRIENDS? ]

somehow she knew it wasn’t part of the script. her eyes stared deadly into her coach's eyes, but the man looked as serious as ever. cheng xiao tried to recompose her image, but it was still a little bit shaken by the sudden request. unlike a lot of the trainees she had met, the girl had no problem with cute concepts. if trc decided to go crazy and debut them with one of those she wouldn’t be the one complaining about it. yet somehow the oppa ya song was going just a little bit too far.

“give me a second.” xiao covered her face with both of her hands, breathing behind them to try creating a stable connection between her and her soul. she’d need it. “oppa ya.” she moved her hands away, but as soon as she saw her coach again the connection was immediately broken. a few more lines managed to leave her mouth, but the girl eventually accepted defeat. “i’m sorry. that was the best i could do.”

[ YOU’RE DONE. ]

“i am.”

[thecreativeangel]

Protector (Peter Parker x Reader)

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: You’d never thought of Peter as the kind to starts fights at school but here he was, sitting beside you on the cold floor of a supply closet, bleeding and bruised.

Warnings: Blood, violence (a fight, basically), Sad!Peter. 

Word Count: 2,236

You were picked up your textbooks and notebooks, hugging them to your chest and walked briskly out of the classroom. It had been a long and terribly boring school day, as most school days were at the end of the year. The popular guys were pissing off the teachers and talking loudly, the more fashionable girls were Snap-chatting in class, and the teachers were fed up with everyone but still sane enough to give out detention slips. You balanced your binders on your knee while trying to open your locker as quickly as possible, eager to get on the bus to go home. It was Friday, and school was ending next week, much to everyone’s relief. A text from Peter just minutes before had left you in good spirits; he asked to come over like always for a Friday night movie marathon with Michelle and Ned, set with popcorn, ice cream and junk food of every kind. Stuffing things into your backpack and slamming the locker shut, you started down the hallway. The loud chatter from other students passing you gradually got more quiet as people in the very front of the school grew deadly still and began to crowd around something, blocking the entire hall. Whispers and muttering broke out, students everywhere desperate to get to the front where pushing and shoving your small form. Suddenly, a loud, collective gasp came from somewhere in front, followed by laughter and something being banged against what could only be a locker. You huffed loudly, just wanting to get to the buses until-

“Parker, Parker, Parker…” The students in the front chanted, jeering even louder now. Your eyes widened and the breath left your lungs. You shoved people aside, ignoring their grumbles and cursing to break into the inner circle. Another loud metal bang echoed, almost drowned by the loud laughter. Charging through row after row of high schoolers, you ignored the sharp jabs to your stomach from different restless kids. Maybe it isn’t him. You think, already knowing the answer. C’mon Peter, please don’t tell me it’s you out there. Reaching the inner circle, you desperately tried to squeeze between the line of tall guys that stood in front. You duck down, finding a little crack between the wall of jocks to look though. Sure enough, Peter’s beat up sneakers were just visible as he was pushed backwards against the line of lockers.

“How’s that Parker?” Flash Thompson’s voice rang out, angry and arrogant. “Wanted to taste the floor today, didn’t ya?” You hear Peter groan loudly, probably attempting to fight back.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Ned yelled, also trying to help his friend.

“Let me handle this Ned.” Michelle warned, and you calm down a bit. Michelle could help- she was very scary when needed. “Wait ‘till I get my hands on that son of a bitch.”

“What are you going to do?” One of Flash’s friends taunted. “Bore us to death with some nerd science?” Michelle snarled, losing her cool. Poor Ned had to grab both her wrists to hold her back.

“Hey Parker,” Flash announced, lifting Peter off the ground by the hem of his t-shirt. “Why are you so annoying, eh Parker?”

“A-all I did was tell you to s-shut up.” Peter retaliated, squirming. “Not my fault you have the temper of a bull with anger issues.” Flash grabbed Peter’s hair and slammed his head against the lockers. This made anger boiled in you like hot lava, making your head fill with thoughts of how to brutally murder Flash. You pushed even harder against the blockade Flash’s friends made, only managing to kick them in the heel. Fuck that. You think, absolutely enraged. The teachers just had to be in a meeting right now.

“Puny Parker,” Flash teased, cruel and unforgiving. “No wonder you hang out with the losers. D’you really think the Liz Allan would go out with you? Good thing you gave up on that, right? How does it feel to be such an epic loser that you hang around them!” He pointed to Ned restraining Michelle.

“And that other weird girl, what’s her name?” Flash asks. “Bet she only hangs around you ‘cuz she feels sorry for your ugly ass!”

“Leave them out of this! Leave her alone!” Peter yells, swinging his arms to punch Flash.

“Aww, does Puny Parker have a new crush?” Flash cooed, fake pouting. “Gonna go home and cry to your aunt and uncle? Oh wait-you can’t ‘cuz your uncle’s dead. Probably killed himself when he saw what a little bitch he had as a nephew-”

“ENOUGH!” You roared, finally forcing your way past Flash’s ogre friends. Stomping over to him, you let the backpack fall to the floor with a ‘thud’. The students became silent, watching the scene that was unraveling before them. Flash was so shocked he dropped Peter, who slumped against the lockers. You rush to him and drop to your knees, taking his face in your hands and inspecting it. Peter mumbled something about being fine, but his bleeding lip and bruised cheek said otherwise.

“You’ll be alright Peter.” You soothed, wiping the hair from his forehead. “Can you breathe okay? Not going to pass out, right?” He nodded weakly, face growing pink from embarrassment upon realizing that everyone was watching them.

“Okay-umm…” You glance at Ned and Michelle, then help Peter up, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Y-you’re going to be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

Limping Peter over, you slip his arm off your shoulder and let Ned hold him up. “Take him to the storage closet.” You plead. “Stay there-I’ll be there in a bit.” Michelle nods solemnly and begins to shout at people to make a path. You slowly turn to Flash, a new fire in your eyes.

“What gave you the right?” You ask quietly, your voice a dangerous calm. “What gave you the right to treat him like that Flash?”

“Hey shorty, don’t start.” Flash says, smirking down at you. “Don’t even pretend you can hurt me.”

“Maybe I can’t hurt you, although rest assured that I really, really want to.” You hiss spitefully. “You envy Peter, don’t you?” Flash’s grin slips off of his face and he growls, cracking his knuckles.

You continue, not intimidated by his actions. “You envy Peter because he’s smart enough to be a damn nuclear physicist,” Your voice is rising steadily, reaching the point of near shouting. “And the only job you’ll ever get is serving food at FUCKING MCDONALDS!” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you calm down a bit, feeling about ready to physically explode.

Flash steps closer to you, his red face looking down at you menacingly. “Are you threatening me, you little-”

You cut him off almost immediately, standing on your toes to seem taller. “Am I threatening the great Flash Thompson?” You announce sarcastically. “Hell yeah I am. Don’t think I didn’t see the S.O.L. cheat paper in your backpack. Y’know how much trouble that can get you in? Forget detention, dumb-ass. That’s worth expulsion from school.” Flash paled visibly, stepping back from you.

“You wouldn’t-”

“Oh yes, I would!” You snapped, flailing your arms around wildly. “I can have you expelled faster than you can say your own name. So how about-” You walk up to him and jab an accusing finger at his chest.

“You leave Peter, Ned and Michelle alone-” You poke him a bit harder, taking another step forward. “Stop being such an asshole-” Another sharp prod to his chest.

“And if you ever hurt Peter again, I’ll make the rest of your high school years a living hell!” You shout, pushing Flash back forcefully. Then, picking up your backpack and spinning around on your heel, you stomp away, leaving the stunned highschoolers behind.

The hallways are a blur as you break into a run, sprinting to the famous storage closet that is often used as a hideout or meeting place. You skidded to a halt at the familiar grey plaque on the wall that read “Room 201: Storage”. It takes three quick knocks, a pause, and another two for Ned to open the locked door. You dart inside and take in the sight before you. Peter looked nothing short of terrible; his lip was still bleeding profusely and there was a nice sized cut on his head that made the hair stick to his forehead, staining it a dark red. It hurt you how utterly defeated he was. Remind me to kill Flash later. You think scathingly. Michelle elbows Ned in the side and stares pointedly at the door. When Ned gives her a confused look in return, she rolls her eyes and pushed him out of the storage closet, giving you a hopeful smile before shutting the door.

“Why didn’t you clean up?” You ask, keeping your voice calm.

“I was waiting for you to come.” Peter murmured faintly.

“Peter…” You trailed off, picking a roll of paper towels off a shelf.

“It’s pathetic, I know.” He said, hugging his knees to his chest. “Maybe-maybe you shouldn’t hang around me… You’ll just become another target for Flash.”

“Peter, you’re the smartest person I know…” You start, crumpling a paper towel into a ball. “-so why are you being such a dumbass?” Peter looks up, surprised at the change of tone.

“…What?”

“You heard me. Stop being stupid.” You dab gently at his forehead with the ball of paper towels, seeing him wince at every touch. “How could I ever want to stop being around you, hmm? You’re a freaking awesome guy, smarter than anyone else I know. You’re kind and funny and fucking amazing, okay? And Flash won’t even come near us any more unless he wants to be kicked out of school.”

Peter chuckled slightly. “Knowing how you get when angry he probably pissed his pants. Twice.”

“Don’t dodge the topic.” You said coolly, throwing the bloody towel away and getting a new one. “Why do you think you’re not enough? Why don’t you understand how much I-”

“Because-because I don’t know!” Peter said exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in defeat. He was trying to keep it together but the way his voice cracked when he spoke told you how he really was. “You’re you, and I’m just me! How could I possibly be enough for someone like you, huh? Spider-man is the hero, he’s the one who saves people and climbs walls! I’m Peter fucking Parker, the loser who couldn’t even save his-”

You wrap your arms around him, effectively shutting him up. Both of you stay still for a while and you refuse to let him go until his breathing evens out. After hours, or maybe just seconds, Peter sighs in content against your hair, slumping into your body and relaxing. Your hand weaves through his brown locks, gently tugging and pulling, making him whimper softly.

Before you could even think what you were doing, you pulled away for a second and brushed your lips against his jawline ever so lightly. Peter froze and his heart rate began to speed up again.

“Spider-man is great, really he is. But Spider-man’s no Peter Parker.” You say in a rushed whisper, placing his head on your shoulder. “Peter Parker is this fantastically nerdy guy with endless science jokes and big geek glasses and-and he never fails to make his friends laugh, and he may just be the dictionary definition of perfect! That’s how you are, Peter. Just a big ball of freaking adorable dorkiness and it should never be any other way.”

You could feel Peter smile against your shoulder, rubbing his nose against the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re amazing too y’know.” Came Peter’s muffled reply. He moved his head to speak clearly. “You scared Flash Thompson. That’s worth at least a Nobel Prize, being that bad-ass. And you’re better at science than me.”

“Wow Peter, no big speech for me?” You say, laughing slightly. “Fine then. We’re both pretty impressive, huh?”

Peter dug his face back into your shirt and hummed.

“D’you want to go to your place and just chill for awhile?” You ask hesitantly, scared he would freak out over the kiss and say no. Peter beamed brightly and nodded.

“Sure. Stay the night?” He replied, feeling a lot better now. The iPod in your pocket dinged and you saw a text from Michelle explaining that she and Ned were going to skip movie night just this once. You rolled your eyes at the wink emoji that she kept sending.

“Obviously.”

If anyone were to walk into the living room of the Parker residence at about 11:30 p.m., they would have seen a girl and a boy asleep soundly on the couch, the TV still playing old episodes of Teen Wolf. The two teens were, of course, a hopeless mess of tangled bodies. Both your hands were entwined in Peter’s hair and one leg was thrown over his hip while his arms were wrapped around your waist, his head against your chest, pulling you closer. At around 12:45 a.m. Peter’s hands would move lower to a less innocent place on your body and by 2:20 a.m. you had both rolled over so that you were now on top of him, your head in the crook of his neck. At 4:30 a.m. you sighed in your sleep, peaceful and happy.

[jhaenyiu]

TsukiUta Fanfic: "Will You Be Mine?" [Shimotsuki Shun x OC x Mutsuki Hajime]

There she was, fidgeting her fingers in nervousness, as she looked at the two males kneeling down at her. And as she was about to open her mouth to speak, they simultaneously cut her off. "Will you be mine?" ~ "Yes, sir! I'll do my best!" the girl bowed, putting her long lavender hair with white highlights in a slight mess. "You may go now," the president of the Tsukino Productions said, dismissing the young girl, as she went out of the president's office and jumped in celebration. "Yes! Hinokawa Yui got the job!" she celebrated, raising her fists in the air. "Mm? If it isn't Hinokawa-san," she turned from where she heard the voice to see the white-haired Procella leader. "Shimotsuki-san! Good afternoon!" she greeted as she bowed down. "You look so happy. What happened?" "I was--" "Haha, I was just kidding. I know thay you've been assigned as the leader in the production team for the Full Moon Festival. Congratulations!" he answered, leaving the girl in front of him, shocked. "How did you know?" "Hajime, the director and I were talkong about it. Well, good luck!" Shimotsuki Shun told her as he waved walking away, his figure disappearing. Feeling ecstatic, Hinokawa Yui, the current leader for the Production Team of the Full Moon Festival, happily walked back to her office to pick up some papers before going to the arena where the Full Moon Festival will be held. "Ow--" as she was about to fall, she felt two hands supporting her arms. "Are you okay?" she flinched as she heard a deep familiar voice. "I-I'm okay, Mutsuki-san!" she stuttered as she stood up straight with the help of Gravi's leader. "Be careful next time," she only nodded in response as Mutsuki Hajime, started to walk away. "Congratulations on the job, by the way," he added making the girl blush from the greeting. ~ "Cheers to Hinokawa-san!" a bubbly voice beamed as they all toasted, as the sound of their glasses colliding, echoed throughout the room. "Like I said, Kakeru, you don't need to celebrate! And neither should any of you!" Yui said as she pinched the blond boy's ears and looked at Koi, Rui, Iku, You, Yoru, Arata and Aoi. "It's fine, it's fine, Hinokawa-san! You've always been there for us ever since both Gravi and Procella started. So, this celebration for your assignment at the Full Moon Festival is okay!" Aoi said reassuringly, as the female just sighed in exasperation. "Besides, it's not as if we're drinking alcohol. This is juice!" You yelled as he drank from his glass. "He's secretly wishing there would be a legit alcoholic drink here, though," Yoru commented making the rest of the group giggle. "Well, if you say so," Yui said as she drank from her glass, then coughed afterwards. "I thought you said no alcohol?!" the lavender-haired girl screamed in shock. "Ah, sorry we're late," they all turned to see Kai and Haru, removing their shoes to join the party. "And sorry, because I told them to make you drink, Yui," Kai said as he sat down besides her. "You should be thankful, Yui-san. You is itching to drink alcohol," Koi told her. "But he has to make an appearance for a live show tomorrow morning," she continued as she drank. "She complained when she drank alcohol, but she's enjoying it now," Iku remarked as he poured more juice to his bottle. "Where's Shun?" Rui asked. "Also, Hajime-san is not here," Arata added. "Shun has an interview," Kai answered Rui. "Hajime has a shooting for a new advertisement," Haru replied. "Don't mind them, let's get this party started!" You cheered. "It already started though," Aoi commented. ~ "Ugh," the production leader groaned as she tried to shift to her side but for some reason, she couldn't. Yui tried once more to face her right, but she felt arms over her. waist stopping her. Feeling defeated, she just sighed and let it go. Wait, she thought. Wasn't I drinking with Kai and Haru? As she opened her eyes, her vision was attracted by white hair to her left and purple hair to her right. "Shimotsuki-san?! Mutsuki-san?!" she screamed as she immediately covered her mouth, realizing they were still asleep. She observed the two males to see Hajime facing the edge of the bed as Shun was apparently hugging the girl's waist. "Shh, I'm sleeping," Shun softly said, sending chills to Yui's back. Due to the commotion, Hajime started to move. Scared of waking up the Gravi leader, Yui softly rubbed Hajime's hair as he seemed to have calmed down. "Oh my goodness, what am I going to do?" she told herself as she leaned her head on her hands. As she was thinking on what to do, she saw Hajime stood up and the edge of her eyes. "Hinokawa-san, what are you doing here?" he asked her as he stood up, where the purple-eyed girl stood up, following him. "I'm sorry Mutsuki-san! Even I don't know what's going on!" she apologized, bowing down. "It must've been Shun's doing, then," Hajime concluded as he gave a glare to the white-haired idol. "I'm really sorry," she apologized once more. "It's alright. Sit down for a while, I'm just gonna go change my shirt and let's eat breakfast." "Okay," was her only reply as she sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her hands to not see the bare torso of the purple-haired leader. "Come on, Hinokawa-san. Look up. Hajime has really good back muscles, you know?" she winced when she heard a very bewitching voice on her right ear. "I'm done. Let's go--Ah, Shun, you're awake," Hajime stated as he blandly looked over the both of them. "To be awoken with the sight of beautiful lavender locks and amazing back muscles, is truly a blessing for me," he stated as he leaned his hands on the bed besides Yui. "Stop the nonsense. Let's go," Hajime declared leaving the two with no choice, but to follow him. As they arrived in the kitchen, the rest of the members of both idol groups were present. "Eh?" "Ahre, ahre?" Were the reactions they got from them. "G-good morning!" Yui greeted as she bowed down, feeling the awkwardness as 10 pairs of eyes were on him. "Now, now, everyone. Stop staring at her. She's getting embarrassed," Shun said, defending the girl as he held her shoulders. "Anyway, come eat breakfast, Shun-san, Hajime-san, Yui-san," Yoru invited them as they all sat down. "Yui-san, would you like to sit on my lap?" You jokingly asked as he received an immediate smack in the head from Kai. "Sit here, Yui," Haru ushered the girl at the edge of the table, setting in between Shun and Hajime. "Hmmm? Mm," they heard mumbling from the other end to see the blond idol framing his hands into two L's enclosing the three at the other edge within his hands. "This love triangle is not bad," Kakeru concluded with a triumphant face. "Eh? Who are you talking about?" Yui questioned as she turned her head to left and right. "I an amazed by how dense, Yui-san is, sometimes. Of course I'm talking about Hajime-san, you and Shun-san!" Kakeru whined as he went back to his seat. "Kakeru, we're in the table. Use your etiquette," the said boy immediately behaved when he heard their leader's voice. "Understood." "Don't be such a killjoy, Hajime. Kakeru is young, let him have fun!" the White Demon King ended with a loud chuckle as he started to eat the breakfast prepared by Yoru and Aoi. "Mm! This is delicious!" the production leader exclaimed as she took a bite from her food. "Thank you!" both of the cooks from each group thanked. "Next time, could you cook for us, Hinokawa-san?" Shun jokingly told as Yui just coughed in response. "Yeah! Yui-san's cooking is the best!" Koi praised, raising his utensils. "Eh? You cook? I never tried it before," You commented. "I-it's not that amazing--" "She made a really delicious cake without flour," Rui added, touching his chin as he thought. "Rui!" "What?! No flour?! That's shocking," Arata said with his straight face unchanged. "So she should, right?" "YES!" ~ Hinokawa Yui's PoV Many weeks have passed and the Full Moon Festival is having a big progress. The joint song is finished, their dances are polished, everything is perfect! "Yui--" "Ah! Ah, it's you, Haru. What is it?" I asked the male in glasses as he approached me with piles of paper in hand. "Why were you so surprised?" "N-nothing. I was just shocked," I replied to him as he took s seat besides me. "I was here with instructions for you for the Full Moon Festival but, you seem like you need help. What happened?" "Umm," I trailed off, not knowing what to say, and whether I should say it or not. "Come on, Yui. We've been together in this busoness for so long already. Tell me," he said in a persuading voice, as I had no choice but to spill. ~flashback~ I was at the event grounds, monitoring how's the preparation for the event. While I was at the backstage, checking the rooms, I saw a room that was occupied. "Hello? Is anybody here?" I asked. "I'm inside. Taking a shower," was what I heard. This sounds like Hajime. "Eh? Is that so?" I said as I looked around. "Hinokawa? Is that you?" "Yes, it's me, Mutsuki-san," I replied. As I was about to tell him that I was about to leave, I saw a crumpled paper on the table. 'Do you like Yui? Yes or No' 'To: Hajime From: Procella' This sounds like something Shun would do--wait, he answered-- "Hinokawa?" I heard a voice call me as I flinched to see a barely dry Shimotsuki Hajime with only towel around his waist. "Ah--I'm not supposed to be here! If you'll excuse me please!" I bowed in apology as I ran out of the door. ~end of flashback~ "So that's what happened," Haru commented as he fixed his glasses. "The thing is, I saw the Yes being encircled, Haru! He likes me! How? When? Where? Why?" I bombarded him with questions. "Don't ask me that sort of stuff. Go talk to him yourself." "Eh? No. But the thing is--" "Haru--Eh? Yui?" Kai came in the door. "Kai!" I wailed like a hungry baby. "Umm, Yayoi Haru-san? You're being called to the stage for a Gravi practice," a staff came in after knocking in. "See you later. And do what you think is best, Yui!" he yelled before running off. "So? What's up with you?" Kai asked me as I just exasperatedly sighed. "Is it about Shun?" "Kind of?" "Tell me." "You sound like a gossip girl, but okay." ~flashback~ I was running away from that room, to avoid more interactions with Mutsuki-san. My heart can't take it anymore. And as I was running, I was suddenlt pulled into a small alley that's hidden throught the hallways, where green pair of orbs welcomed me. "Hello, my little rabbit," he teasingly whispered. "Hello, Shimotsuki-san!" I replied, tense covering my entire body. "Why were you running?" he questioned as he leaned on the wall, increasing the gap between us in this small alley, "Uhm--that's because--I can't tell you," I sighed as I looked down. "Mm," I only heard him say. Then, I felt his hands lift my cheeks up as he leaned his hands on the wall, trapping me in his arms. "Don't go to anyone else but me, okay?" I could only nod in response as he let go of me and walked ahead of me. ~end of flashback~ "So that's why you're all awkward now and extra self-conscious!" Kai concluded as Haru came in the room. ~ I told Kai my story with Hajime and Haru about Shun. "Well, I can't blame them. Yui is really pretty and dependable, so . . ." Kai started. "It can't be helped, right?" Haru continued. "Anyway, we only have 3 days, until the Full Moon Festival. Forget about those for now, okay?" "Okay." ~ "Tsuki no Uta!" they all sang together and danced more. As the song ended their fans screamed hysterically. "As we end this event, I want to take time to give everyone my gratitude," Hajime started, slowly calming down the crowd. "Thank you to all of you who came all the way here just to watch our performance," he bowed as the rest of the members on the stage bowed down as well. "And of course, we want to give thanks to the people behind the scenes. To the cameramen, to the music coordinators, event managers and staff, thank you!" Shun added. "But, there's one more special person." "And we would like to call her up to the stage," and at the edge of the stage I saw Kai and Haru lead the rest of the group to the back stage. "Please come up, Hinokawa Yui," they both simultaneously said, as the spotlight turned to me. "What?!" then, I felt two hands push my back where I saw Haru and Kai smirking at me. "Hinokawa, thank you. For being there from the start and never leaving Gravi even though we've caused you a lot of trouble," Mustuki-san stated as he held my right hand. "Yui, even though I tease you a lot, and bully you a lot, you put up with my randomness, and stayed patient. Thank you, for everything," Shimotsuki-san held my left hand tightly. "Shun and I have talked about this," the Gravi leader started. "And we decided to leave everything to you," the white-haired man continued. I fidgeted my hands in nervouseness as both of them kneeled in front of me, as they simultaneously ask; "Will you be mine?"

[cyanoscarlet]

if it ain't broke, don't fix it

(stories on (and off) ice)

Once upon a time, on a sunny afternoon in Bangkok, Phichit Chulanont broke the door of the fridge twice, then broke the fridge down completely.

The big, old, white box had been a wedding gift to his parents, at that time the latest model of its kind. Among all the appliances in their house, it had been the only one that stood the test of time, lasting even longer than the old analog TV set. His mother had been adamant about keeping it around despite the increasingly bad reception it got and the colors bleeding over all the wrong places. She'd changed her mind, however, when she'd won a new flatscreen unit from a company raffle draw.

In any case, this refrigerator was the last thing in the house that dated back to the humble beginnings of the Chulanont family -- given that his older sister was born two years after their marriage, and she's now twenty-four, the fridge must be a little over twenty-six years old.

  .

  "And you're telling us this, why again?" Leo sits across him and Guanghong on the bed, fiddling with his tablet's notifications. Definitely no social media again until after the US Nationals.

Phichit props his feet up the mess of pillows and blankets, putting down his beloved Galaxy Note 7 beside the gold medal. "Just remembered it all of a sudden."

  .

  As with the TV set, Pirawan Chulanont had been even more vocal against replacing the old fridge. "Only the door hinges are rusted. I'm not replacing it while it's completely functional," she argued from the kitchen sink while Siriwan carefully shut the door, a bottle of cold water tucked in her arm.

"Mother, you cannot make us 'support the door with both hands when you open and close it' forever," the eldest of the three siblings countered back, reading verbatim the hastily-scribbled reminder stuck to the door with a Thai Skating Federation commemorative magnet. "You know how Phichit raids this thing almost every day."

"Well, he'll have to learn to 'raid the thing' less, then," their mother said simply. "He's a competitive skater; he has to eat more real food and less sweets."

Siriwan sighed in defeat. As the future doctor of the house, she was inclined to agree.

Just then, Phichit burst into the entryway, a medium-sized package in his arms. "I'm home, everyone! Yuuri sent us some Japanese snacks."

Anchalee, the youngest, squealed from behind him, also having just arrived from high school. "Ahhhhhh yesssss! Is there Pocky?! Is there?! Brother Yuuri knows I love the strawberry-flavored ones!"

The young girl excitedly pushed her brother to the kitchen, where Siriwan opened the package to sort its contents. "I'll put these in the fridge for you guys," she offered, carefully balancing the door on a low makeshift stand, then slowly pushing both implements carefully to open the refrigerator wide enough.

  .

  "No, Brother Yuuri has not heard of that until now." Yuuri emerges from the bathroom, wiping his hands dry with a paper towel. "Is that why Anchalee has been avoiding me back when we visited your place?"

"What can I say? You broke her heart," Phichit mock-accuses his good friend. "She hates anything with matcha the most."

"Speaking of Pocky flavors," Guanghong pipes up, "which flavor does Yuuri like?" Suddenly, the room is quiet as the three young skaters wait for his answer with bated breath.

"... Chocolate, I guess," Yuuri mutters after a couple of minutes.

Phichit immediately wiggles his eyebrows with glee. "I'll make sure to tell Viktor later!"

"PHICHIT, NO."

  .

  As mentioned earlier, it happened one sunny afternoon in Bangkok.

Phichit returned home for lunch, feeling incredibly accomplished after that morning's practice run. Landing his quadruple toe loop perfectly always gave him a euphoric rush, and he was raring to go back to the rink and skate some more until dinner time. The Cup of China is fast approaching; he can't waste a single minute.

But first, food. Some dessert wouldn't hurt. And iced water - lots of it.

He hastily opened the fridge to get the water and a box of matcha Pocky -- and froze in place when he heard a metallic creak and snap. Suddenly, the door felt a lot heavier than usual.

Phichit fearfully peered over the white door. The bottom hinge had completely come off, the holes in which the lone screw was supposed to be rusted away beyond any and all recognition.

Somewhere in his jumbled thoughts, he vaguely remembered his older sister grumbling about having to install a stupid improvised harness for the top hinge because keeping the top screw in place would not be enough to support the door's weight.

He inspected said harness from the periphery of his vision. It had all but snapped upon taking the brunt of the sudden impact earlier.

Siriwan will be so pissed off, he mentally groaned. And if there's anything Phichit doesn't want to deal with at this crucial point in time, it's an angry Siriwan. With a near-exasperated sigh, he carefully sealed the fridge shut again. He had more important things to do than this.

  .

  "I'll never understand why Mother still wanted that thing around, though," Phichit complains to his audience of three. "Even if it was a wedding gift, it doesn't make sense to keep it if it's already broken."

"Sentimental value runs deep, my good man," Leo recites, now leaning onto Guanghong's shoulder. "Besides, if it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"They should still have gotten a new one," Phichit insists. "You gotta listen to reason."

The three laugh in unison. Knowing how the seemingly perpetually happy and cheerful Thai usually takes things like this in stride, they find it amusing how this single incident sticks out like a bad sore thumb, he is actually griping about it.

Still, though... "That's what I told you when you insisted on marrying your phone."

Phichit glares at Yuuri intensely, holding the bright green thing to his chest. "This is entirely different!" More laughter ensues.

  .

  Phichit ran back home halfway through his commute to the rink. How could he have forgotten his phone, of all things? He dashed to his room and unplugged the fully-charged gadget from the dock. He also packed the power bank and some extra hand towels while he was at it.

Exhausted from his run, he made his way to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to get some water.

This time, the door completely fell off.

"What the fuck?!"

He completely forgot about the broken door -- rather, how he'd just broken it hours earlier.

What the actual fuck.

You had one job, Phichit thought to himself. One. Job.

If it weren't for his quick reflexes, he would have almost dropped the heavy thing. Once he regained his footing, he steadied the door with both hands and leaned it against the wall. Thankfully, none of the foodstuffs in it were damaged. (The eggs, especially. He wouldn't know what to do if those were broken.)

(He'd be dead, for starters. He just refused to admit it. Fortunately, no one was home to witness his blunder.)

Phichit called Celestino to inform that he was going to be late. He had a fridge door to fix.

But first, water -- since the good old box was already wide open and all. Hah.

"What the hell?!" a shrill voice screamed from behind him, causing him to do a sudden spit take and drop the bottle he was drinking from. Phichit didn't have time to be surprised at his ambusher, however, as the iced liquid splashed over the outlet to which the refrigerator was plugged, causing the thing to short-circuit and subsequently explode.

The kitchen was quiet as the machine made weird, whirring sounds before permanently dying down. Phichit found himself hanging on to his older sister, and she gripping tightly onto him, as well. They were frozen on the spot, both momentarily lost for words at what had just happened.

Well, that was underwhelming, was his first thought. Sister looks pretty in her white uniform, was the second.

Siriwan voiced the third for him. "Oh my god."

The lock turned from outside, and their mother announced her return to the house at large. Upon reaching the kitchen, she dropped the groceries onto the floor in shock.

  .

  "So you're buying a new fridge," Yuuri closes the story, using a very unusual deadpan tone that he usually reserves for when he's one-hundred percent done with everything. He even skipped the entire flailing-around-like-a-crazed-chicken part.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Phichit affirms, nodding away as if nothing had happened. Leo and Guanghong hold on to each other on the bed, both speechless with shock.

Yuuri saunters over to the desk, upon which several printed catalogues of refrigerator models were stacked. "So that's what these are for," he muses, pushing up his glasses as he reads the fine print. "Why are you looking these up, though?"

"I'm paying for part of it because it was me who broke the old one." Phichit flops back onto the bed, tapping away at his phone again. "At least I have a good story to tell the children someday."

Yuuri has nothing to say against that. He wonders how his friend will begin the tale when he does tell it. Knowing him, though, it would be somewhere along, "Once upon a time..."

[rain0205-blog]

Terminal State

Summary:  She tried leaving, submerging herself in work to escape the horrors she had seen. The horrors she kept seeing. She never wanted to go back to that life. But when the Empire takes her home, she’s forced to face her past. Can she move on? Can she cope? Or will she require a bit of help? still bad at summaries, still working on it. ever so slightly more than slight AU gadioxoc

Uneventful

...

Gladiolus dismissed his greatsword, feeling a bit dizzy from the strike Crown Prince Noctis had managed to land on him. He could feel blood trickling down the left side of his face which he wiped away from his eye. There was minimal pain thanks to his adrenaline, and he was happy that the Prince was improving his skills. Stubborn as Noctis was about it, he had made progress over the years. Gladiolus shook his head slightly, seeing a few black spots. Ignis had walked over to administer a potion and have a look at his cut. He instructed the Shield to sit down and began to methodically clean the wound.

"First time in a while you drew blood," said Gladio to Noctis.

"I caught it all on camera," Prompto boasted.

"Not for long you don't."

"What? Can't let anyone see you lose?" teased Noctis.

"I ain't finished yet."

"It was a good show nonetheless," said Ignis, trying to avoid an argument.

The Adviser kept to his work as the other three in the room continued to talk about what had just happened. It was unlike Gladiolus to let Noctis draw blood, though none of them seemed to worry about it too much. As Ignis continued his work he could see that the gash was deeper than he'd anticipated; his efforts wouldn't be sufficient enough. The large man would need treatment from a proper doctor in order to heal properly. Once the potion wore off there was no telling how the wound would start to affect him. Just the thought of going to the Citadel clinic was giving Ignis a headache. Gladio didn't like others working on him and the Adviser considered himself lucky to have gotten as far as he did.

"I'm afraid you'll need to finish your examination over at the clinic," he said tentatively.

"It doesn't feel that bad," Gladiolus protested.

"Perhaps not. But as you know, I am not a doctor," the look on the large man was going to prompt another excuse, so Ignis hastily added, "It's just a precaution."

Gladiolus observed his friend's stern gaze. If Ignis was saying he had to go, then he probably did and the Shield knew it would be futile to argue. No matter what protest he made, Ignis would have already considered it and come up with a counterpoint. Gladio stood up and, accepted the towel wiping his hands clean of the blood he had gotten on them. Ignis took that as a sign of consent. Perhaps there really was something wrong with the man if he didn't put up much of a fight.

Gladiolus shrugged, "Fine."

"Now this I gotta see!" exclaimed Prompto.

The four men began their trek toward the Citadel clinic. The corridors were busting with Glaives, Crownsguard and staff busy with their work. Noctis did his best to hide his face, hating the attention he got while he was here, however, with a big man like Gladiolus wandering around it was fairly difficult to stay invisible. Prompto was even worse. His antics and bubbly enthusiasm were enough to draw dozens of eyes to them, a bundle of life trapped inside that tiny body and bursting to come out. Ignis often wore his look of grief at their shenanigans. For the most part, Noctis was able to make his way to the clinic with a minimal number of "Your Highnesses". After entering, a nurse immediately moved to escort Gladiolus. Seemed to be a slow day as usual. She led the injured man into an examination room almost immediately, followed close behind by the others, despite Ignis's protests. Prompto and Noctis were insistent upon seeing their egotistical friend actually admit that he'd made a mistake and been hurt, while Ignis knew it was best to leave him to be examined in peace. Maybe, Ignis thought, he should have suggested this course of action more strongly. Then again, how often did Gladio have an injury that required attention he didn't otherwise acknowledge? Curious.

The nurse took Gladiolus's vitals thoroughly as he recounted what had happened. She wrote the details down on a clipboard. It wasn't a very long story and the nurse took a better look at the cut with a thoughtful frown. She left the room afterward, assuring them that the doctor would be in momentarily. Gladiolus wasn't impressed with Prompto's teasing though he knew that revenge, properly planned, would be sweet. Their bantering stopped as the doctor walked into the exam room. Gladiolus's amber eyes observed the slender female who looked to be swimming in her lab coat. She was reading his chart, her eyes flickering over the paper with her head down. Her pen was writing on top of what he could only assume were the nurse's notes. When she was finished, she sanitized her hands and put on a pair of latex gloves.

The doctor looked up at them. Her dirty blond hair was pulled back into the smallest ponytail ever, sticking straight out. Most of her hair had fallen out of the ponytail it was meant to be in, the loose hair spreading halfway down her neck. She was thin, pale and nearly sick looking. There were large, dark bags under her hazel eyes as if she had been working for days on end without a break - which was odd here in the clinic. Gladio noted the scar that ran down from her neck and he couldn't see where it ended underneath her pink scrubs. But despite the hollow look of her appearance, he was struck by the underlying soul she seemed very desperate to hide. He found he was unable to look away from her, something about her drawing his full attention to her alone. She walked over to him, grabbing his chin gently with her gloved hands. The Shield kept his eyes trained on her as she looked intently at his injury, the aroma of sanitizer with a hint of vanilla filling his nostrils while she moved it head carefully. She let his face go, taking a step back and looking him over again.

"Okay Mr..." she took a quick look at the chart, "Amicitia. Want to tell me what happened?"

"He wounded his pride, that's what," said Prompto quickly laughing at his own words.

"Prompto," Ignis warned before Gladiolus could retaliate.

"We were sparring and I won," explained Noctis.

He seemed quite proud of himself about that. Gladiolus made a mental note not to let that happen again. Despite all the commentary, the doctor was still looking at him expectantly, her calm hazel stare calling his attention.

"He got the best of me this round," he said in a neutral tone, "Iggy cleaned it up, but he said I was better off coming here."

"Well, Iggy was right to be careful. I'll also compliment him on how well he cleaned it," she smiled slightly.

Gladiolus saw a small light in her dull eyes which caused him to mimic her. She took her stethoscope and got it ready for use, placing it on the left side of his chest first. The doctor gave him instructions which he followed without hesitation. Keeping his gaze on her the entire time she worked made it easy for him to see that despite the obvious sleep deprivation, she was very passionate about her job. Everything she did was precise and her touches were gentle around his wound. When she was finished she reached out, once again taking his chin in her small hands and moving his head toward the light. His amber eyes were only focused on that face while it critically observed him. Again a small light shone in her dull eyes as soon as she looked satisfied with something that she was staring at on him. It was hard to look away from it, completely mesmerizing. Once she released him, however, he blinked and followed her every movement as she walked to the door with his chart and sanitized her hands once more. Gladiolus continued to study her while she seemed completely oblivious to his very existence despite being her patient.

"Mr. Amicitia-"

"Gladio," he cut her off.

She smiled tiredly at him, "You have a small concussion and that cut of yours will need stitches. I need to prepare a few things, but then I'll be back to patch you up and send you on your way."

"Thanks, Doc," he grinned at her foolishly.

She nodded once and then left the room. Gladiolus's smile didn't leave his face once she was gone, but he was distracted by the young man standing to his right.

"Lucky you, hottie Doctor," said Prompto.

"Easy boy," said Noctis.

"Awfully young to procure a position in her station. Something to be admired," mused Ignis.

Gladiolus crossed his massive arms over his chest, "Think she was a combat medic."

"What makes you assume that?"

"The scar on her neck. Definitely from a blade."

"Aren't you observant," noted Noctis sardonically.

"Is that love I see in your eyes?" Prompto mocked him.

"You won't see much of anything once we get out of here if you keep it up," replied Gladiolus.

"Bet you can't get a date."

He grunted, "She's not some floozy in a bar, Prompto, she's a Doctor."

"Yup," his voice was cocky, "Already defeated."

Gladiolus was about to retort when the nurse walked into the room, bringing a tray of surgical tools and placing it in front of him. She waited in the room and shortly after the young doctor came back. The Shield smirked slightly as she sanitized her hands yet again and put on another set of latex gloves. She hesitated a moment and then walked up toward him. He watched her every movement, as she grabbed a cotton swab and dipped it into some blue fluid. Gently, she ran it along the cut which caused him to feel some pain there and then nothing at all.

"Please be still," she instructed, holding her tools in her hands.

He complied and she began to work, only feeling some pressure where his would was. Gladio studied her face as she worked, her eyes completely focused on her what she was doing. He wasn't seeing things, there truly was a small light shining in them. Completely unaware, he held a small crooked grin at it though she didn't seem to notice - not even when his eyes rolled over toward the scar. The rest of it was hidden by her scrubs, but it was definitely made by a blade. Not one that he could identify from Insomnia, but without actually knowing he could only guess. It was thick, probably bled a lot and could have killed her, definitely not something that happens by accident inside of the city. Gladio was curious as to how far down it ran, noting the small bumps that started to form on her neck. Odd, the temperature in here was overly warm and yet, she was cold. But his thoughts were interrupted by her moving away from him, coating his wound with that same blue liquid and then writing down a prescription.

"You're all set. Take this for the pain and try not to exert yourself for the rest of the week," she offered him that same tired smile.

"Thanks, Doc," he repeated himself, his fingers brushing against the plastic of her blue latex gloves. She nodded at him, turning her back and getting ready to leave. Damn you Prompto, "You wanna grab a beer?" he blurted the first thing he could think of.

His smile grew at the shock on her face as she whipped around to face him, but only if looked at closely could it have been caught.

"Sorry, I don't date patients," she didn't even laugh at him.

"I'm discharged, remember?" he held up the paper in his hand.

She smiled as she took off her gloves and sanitized her hands once more, "I don't date Crownsguard," she spoke in the same voice, closing the door behind her before he could say anything else.

"Oh, swing and a miss big guy," Prompto laughed at him.

Gladiolus's eyes grew thoughtful. That was an interesting thing to say. She wasn't even turning him down, merely his profession.

Challenge accepted.

Somehow, he would break down her walls to at least figure out what she had against them.

...

The sky was red in anger, the wind blowing heavily and piercing her skin. There was devastation all around her, the ground shaking with every bit of fire that flew from the sky and hit the ground. She had trouble keeping her balance but managed to stay on her feet, running toward her comrades. Her bag was clutched to her body as if it were her life force - and in many ways, it was not only hers but those she was meant to treat. Legs pumped as fast as they could despite wishing to give out at the pure exhaustion coursing through her body. It was hard to maintain a pace, narrowly missing the oncoming attacks. She took a quick scan around her and pressed on.

She wasn't so lucky as to avoid everything. Something had finally managed to catch her and her body was sent flying across the ground, skittering and hitting every single bump along the way. Another body stopped the trek, the smell of blood and rotting flesh filling her nostrils. Screams echoed in her ears but she kept that bag clutched to her body. She coughed the dust that occupied her lungs, choking on the very air she needed to breathe. Pain exploded from head to toe but she forced herself to her knees, checking the pulse of the nearby body. Nothing. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she noted blood falling down her head and out of her nose, coughing once more in another failed attempt to breathe properly. She looked around in a haze, her eyes trying to focus on what was around her. Debris hit her from every angle but she could no longer feel it. She began to run again, high on her own adrenaline. Her vision blurred in front of her but she could hear her target. Just as the trail was ending she was struck by something unseen, knocking her to the ground and the wind out of her. She coughed, grasping for any sort of air to reach her. Arms trembled while being forced to push her up but they only let her collapse once more. More shots fired, her vision clearing up as she began to catch her breath. With the last of her willpower, she forced herself to her feet, her legs shaking as they struggled supported her own weight. She had the bag, hugging it to her body. The target was finally in sight and she took in a sharp breath, wincing at the pain.

A dark shadow blocked her way and at the speed she was going there was no way to stop herself from colliding with it. She nearly fell but managed to catch her balance. Her head snapped toward the source of another tremor, looking in horror at the gleaming red eye that was unleashed from the sky. It bore down upon her, shrinking her resolve. But she couldn't stop. The shine in her peripherals captured her attention away from the real threat. What a nuisance, there was no time for this. Weapon in hand, she took a defensive stance but her injuries were impairing her reflexes. It was a losing battle, her body barely able to handle the simple commands she gave it. She was nowhere near full power after all the damage she had taken, still only focused on the monster rampaging its way toward them. The gleam of an enemy blade was the last thing she saw as her body went limp.

Dr. Virum took a deep intake of breath, shaking out of her dream. Hands immediately went to her neck, the pain still fresh as if it had really happened. There was nothing there, no blood gushing out of it. With a sigh of relief, she rubbed her eyes before looking around her. She was in the doctor's lounge, at work. Looking down at her watch she sighed, noting her break was over and pushed herself up off the couch, swung her legs down, and stood up just a little too fast. Pushing through her head rush, it was evident she still needed a moment to fix herself so she went straight to the bathroom. The doctor observed herself in the mirror, noting that her eyes were a little bloodshot but the dark bags that usually hung beneath them were smaller than she had seen in a long while. Perhaps some of that sleep did a bit of good despite being troubled as usual. Gathering what resolve she had left she exited the room, ready for the remainder of her shift.

Putting on her lab coat, she walked into the emergency department of the hospital and straight toward the nurse's station, her hazel eyes scanning the room for the charge nurse on site. It was a quiet night, not unlike two weeks ago when she was shipped away to the Citadel. Virum logged into the computer, looking for anything outstanding. There was nothing. It was no wonder she was able to sleep her entire break, all was quiet within Insomnia. The resident nurse came back to her desk, busying herself in her own work. The doctor logged out of the computer, looking at the girl expectantly. She was an older woman, grey wisps of hair starting to poke their way out from the scalp. The glasses hung onto the end of her nose, her eyes focused on the chart in front of her. Crows feet surrounded the edge of her eyes, deeper lines in her face. Her scrubs were green and clean, showing how calm the evening had been.

"Doctor," the nurse looked up, handing her a chart.

"This might be the last time we have charts," she spoke dryly, looking over the paperwork.

"I'm surprised it's taken them this long."

"This is E.D, the highest turnover of patients, it's hard to replace it all digitally like they have everywhere else. Even the Citadel wasn't updated yet."

"How'd they get you in there anyway? After..." the nurse was uneasy about finishing that sentence.

"I was just doing an old friend a favour."

"You do too many favours. Take care of yourself to."

"No promises, Tash," Virum smiled, leaving the station and walking into the room.

56 year-old male, shortness of breath, coughing, sneezing, flu. Antibiotics. 27 year-old female, severed femur. Administered pain medication, mended bone. 2 year-old male, runny nose, scratchy throat, flu. Antibiotics. 39 year-old male, stage four lung cancer. Admitted, sent up to oncology. 87 year-old female, seizure, renal failure, cardiac arrest. Time of death, 19:03, organ donor. 22 year-old male, alcohol detox, small ethanol drip. Observation for 24 hours.

And thus the night went on like that. Only two of their rooms were ever full, no one was waiting for any sort of treatment. She knew what that meant, that this was simply a calm before the storm. There was a shit show coming and she was hoping that it would hold off until she was done her shift. Virum yawned as she finished filling in her paperwork and handed it off to the nurse. Only one more hour until her shift was over and she could maybe try sleeping again. Lady luck on her side, she was still only getting hit with more patients showing flu symptoms. It was that time of year when the temperature changed. She was given another chart by Tash, looking it over quickly and heading toward the room the patient was waiting in. She opened the sliding glass door, pulling back the curtain before stepping inside. The doctor routinely put on her latex gloves, looking up at her patient.

Virum recognized the young man, looking at her chart. 20 year old male, likely a sprained ankle. With a brow raised, she looked at the right ankle in question. It was definitely swollen, bruising surrounding the flesh that changed it from normal pigments into deep purples. He had it elevated on the gurney, the nurses issuing their exam before calling her in. His vitals were normal, everything was okay thus far. She walked over to the patient, gently touching the swollen and bruised area.

"Okay Mr. Argentum, what happened?" she asked, looking into his blue eyes.

"Went for a run and stepped on it funny," he explained in a light tone.

She looked at his hands, noting that there were scrapes and gravel on it.

"You fell."

"Yeah it kind of took me by surprise," he let out a small, nervous laugh.

"Do you fall often?"

"He's a regular clutz," a gruff voice answered from behind her.

Curious as to who walked into the room without her hearing it, she turned around only to meet the smiling face of Mr. Amicitia, her last patient two weeks ago. He was leaning on the frame of the door with a smug smirk on his face, arms crossed over his chest. She had to crane her neck to look up at him as he was quite massive at his full height compared to her. Instinctively her eyes went to the laceration she had stitched up, satisfied that it managed to heal even better than she thought. Virum met his amber eyes and his smile only grew, but it was for only a moment as she turned back toward her patient waiting expectantly for an answer. She noted that he shied away from her gaze and she wondered if it was because of the presence of his friend towering behind her.

"Mr. Argentum?" she inquired again, getting him to focus.

"Uh, n-no, I don't," he returned his attention back toward her.

"I'm going to take an x-ray of your ankle, can you please lay flat."

Prompto nodded at her and followed her instruction. The doctor called in a nurse to pull in the portable machine, Gladiolus being forced outside of the room. Virum and the nurse put on their protective apron and then took the picture. She observed the image, handing off her gear to the nurse and the machine being pulled out of the room. Gladiolus returned inside of the room and went to stand beside the patient, his eyes on her the entire time. She ignored him, bringing the digital image onto the screen before her while continuing to study it intently. There was no break so that was something good at least, the streak of her easy night continuing. She took some cleaning supplies, grabbing his hands and cleaning up the dirt from them in order to examine them better. He had minor scrapes, nothing serious at all. When she was done with that, she moved toward the ankle. Prompto grunted in pain as she applied pressure on the swollen parts. The doctor went to gather ice packs and placed two of them on either side of the ankle, and one on top and underneath.

"I'm surprised you didn't just go to the Citadel clinic," she spoke.

"You do remember me!" he exclaimed in happiness. She gave him a small smile, preparing her wrap for when the swelling had reduced somewhat, "I'm not Crownsguard, just an ordinary citizen."

"With well-placed friends. Good for you," she complimented absently, focused on her work.

"Uh, thanks," he seemed uneasy.

"You always hiding in the hospital?" asked Gladiolus.

"I wouldn't consider work exactly hiding," she answered without looking at him.

Virum removed the ice packs and then began to wrap up the ankle securely.

"Explains why you haven't been to the clinic."

"Yes I'm sure you spend a lot of time there," her voice was dry but her face still focused, "I work here in the E.D. Clinic was understaffed so I was just helping out. One time thing."

"That's a shame."

"Depends on who you ask," she finished her wrap and went back to her chart,

"Okay Mr. Argentum, we're all done here. You sprained your ankle, there's no break. Just stay off of it for a couple of weeks and you'll be good as new."

"Thanks," he nodded at her, sitting up.

The doctor smiled at him, taking off her gloves and throwing them in the trash. As always, she sanitized her hands and walked out of the room with the chart under her arm. She went straight to the nurse's station, knowing she had picked up a rather large tail. She was hoping it would go away as she finished up her paperwork and handed it to Tash.

"Hey Doc," Gladiolus called to her as she began to head to the lounge to avoid him.

"Yes?" she turned to face him, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat.

"Still waiting to grab that beer."

"Still don't date Crownsguard," she replied, turning her back on him and walking away briskly before he could say something else.

Gladiolus smiled at her retreating back. At least he knew where to find her now - not that he really spent a lot of time looking.

"Can I help you sir?" asked one of the nurses.

"Yeah, who's that Doctor?" Gladiolus pointed in the direction of the woman who had just treated his friend.

"Her? That's Dr. Virum. Did you need something?"

"No," he said instantly. He smiled as he looked back in her direction, "Thank you," his eyes were distant.

The nurse was still looking at him quizzically and he just gave her a small smile, nodding at her before taking one last look in Dr. Virum's direction before going back into Prompto's room.

...

thanks for reading