#hey remember that time pearl said she was a salmon

[fierysnowy]

[yellowcanna]

Ginger and Zunda

Summary:

“Fushiguro, did you become sexy overnight?”

BAAAM

Itadori crumbled onto the ground with a pained cry. He held onto his throbbing head where there was already a large bump forming.

“That hurts…what was that for?!” Itadori shouted, looking over his shoulder to see Kugisaki standing behind him with veins throbbing on the back of her fist.

“I came to see what���s the hold up only to find you sexually harassing Fushiguro.” She snapped, the way she looked at Itadori was like looking at a disgusting bug that needed to be squashed.

“Huh?! When did I sexually harassed him?!” Itadori cried.

“Calling him sexy and trying to kiss him is sexual harassment!”

“I wasn’t trying to kiss him! I was just sniffing him!!”

“Like that’s any better! Sniffing an Omega is equivalent to molesting when you’re an Alpha, you numbskull!” Kugisaki shouted before smacking her fist into his head again, beating the young Alpha back onto the floor.

"Exactly what did you two came here for?" Fushiguro muttered, staring at his two classmates in front of him.

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff, Omegaverse, shounen-ai

Pairing: Gojo x Fushigurou

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

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Available on AO3!!

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“Hey, Fushiguro!” Itadori shouted in excitement, waving his hand in the air while running towards his friend and classmate that he spotted walking down the hall of the dormitory.

With the golden week just around the corner, the first years were given a couple of days of break. Itadori was ecstatic. Finally, he could do some real sightseeing around the city that he didn’t have the time to do before.

Kugisaki was instantly onboard with the idea.

All that was left was Fushiguro.

However, when Fushiguro turned around, Itadori tripped over his own feet as though he had forgotten how his legs work and crashed onto the floor, rolling three times before coming to a stop at the raven’s feet.

“…What are you doing?” Fushiguro’s flat voice came from above. His voice sounded normal, but Itadori keenly caught the unusual hoarseness the other was trying to hide.

The boy bounced up from the ground and began looking Fushiguro all over, making the raven looked a bit weird out.

“What are you doing?” He repeated, stepping back to pull some distance between their faces when Itadori leaned too close.

“Fushiguro, did you become sexy overnight?”

BAAAM

Itadori crumbled onto the ground with a pained cry. He held onto his throbbing head where there was already a large bump forming.

“That hurts…what was that for?!” Itadori shouted, looking over his shoulder to see Kugisaki standing behind him with veins throbbing on the back of her fist.

“I came to see what’s the hold up only to find you sexually harassing Fushiguro.” She snapped, the way she looked at Itadori was like looking at a disgusting bug that needed to be stomp on.

“Huh?! When did I sexually harassed him?!” Itadori cried.

“Calling him sexy and trying to kiss him without his consent is sexual harassment!”

“I wasn’t trying to kiss him! I was just sniffing him!!”

“Like that’s any better! Sniffing an Omega is equivalent to molesting when you’re an Alpha, you numbskull!” Kugisaki shouted before smacking her fist into his head again, beating the young Alpha back onto the floor.

“No, wait…hear me out!” Itadori immediately tried to defend himself from being branded as a molester. “It wasn’t like that! I just thought Fushiguro looked different, that’s all! I didn’t mean anything, I swear!”

“Yeah, I know,” Fushiguro muttered. If it was anyone else, the raven would have already fed them to the Jade Hounds. “So? Do you two need something?”

“We’re wondering if you wanna go sightseeing with us. Since you’ve been here long enough, you should know some good places right?” Kugisaki asked.

“Ah, I know a couple, but I can’t go. I’ll send the locations to the chat later.”

“Eh?! Why?!” Itadori shouted in disappointment. “We all have free days off, don’t we?”

“I…have some other things to do for the rest of the week.”

That was all he said before hurrying away, leaving his two classmates behind.

“So?” Kugisaki crossed her arms. “What the heck was that about?”

“Didn’t you think Fushiguro looked kinda sexy just now?” Itadori asked, scratching the back of his head. When he looked up and saw the look on his female classmate’s face, he frantically waved his hands in front of him to explain. “I didn’t mean it that way! I meant literally! Didn’t his face looked…different?”

“Was it any different?” Kugisaki frowned, trying to remember what expression Fushiguro had.

“His voice too! It sounded a bit scratchy!”

“I didn’t notice anything wrong.” Kugisaki snorted. “You sure you aren’t feeling for the guy? He’s an Omega after all.”

“Of course not!” Itadori looked grossed out just imagining himself getting together with the raven. “I like women like Jennifer Lawrence!”

“Yeah, yeah, thank god I’m a Beta and don’t have to deal with these weird shits. Come on, let’s go already!”

Their conversation about Fushiguro’s changes ended there. Or at least, it should have ended there. The next morning, Kugisaki sat by the table, her left hand holding onto her miso soup and her right hand limply holding onto a pair of chopsticks. She stared at Fushiguro who was practically glowing at the other side of the table.

“…What?” Fushiguro frowned and yes, Kugisaki could hear the scratchiness in his voice now.

“Nothing!” The girl quickly raised her miso soup, pretending to drink while her eyes wandered all over the black-haired Omega.

It was just as Itadori had said…Fushiguro became…sexy.

A vein popped over Kugisaki’s head. She felt oddly irritated just to admit that.

After a painful breakfast that couldn’t pass by any faster, Fushiguro left. Itadori asked where he was going, but Fushiguro simply stated he was going back to his room and that was that.

“Hey, what the heck is going on?!” Kugisaki exploded once Fushiguro was out of their sight. “Why the heck is he so sexy all of the sudden?!”

“See?! You saw it too right?!” Itadori cried, glad that his classmate finally understood.

“What are you two doing?” Hearing a woman’s voice calling out to them, the two first years looked up to see Maki, Panda and Inumaki.

┈┈┈┈ ❖ ┈┈┈┈

“Megumi?” Maki frowned after hearing what the two first year’s explanations. “Aaah, it must be that time of the year for him.”

“That time of the year?” The two innocent children echoed, causing a sadistic grin to appear over the girl’s face. “When Omega goes into their H-e-a-t.”

“Heat?!” Kugisaki gasped. Even as a beta, she knew about Heats and Ruts, but… “Wait, I thought Heat and Rut happen only after the Alpha or Omega turns twenty?”

“Salmon.” Inumaki replied.

“Oh, I know that one!” Itadori said proudly. “It’s called trial Heat! I got trial Rut since I’m an Alpha and it’s a pain!”

“Trial?” Kugisaki frowned. Growing up in the countryside where the entire town consists of Betas, Kugisaki knew little about Alpha and Omega biology. She only knew basic manners when dealing with an Alpha or Omega—like not sniffing them for example. “Like a premature condition?”

“That’s right!” Panda nodded. “They won’t experience any need for sexual desire. These trial Heats and Ruts are so their bodies could get used to the sensation and prepare them before real thing after growing into adulthood. Right now, Fushiguro is going through just that.”

“But Fushiguro looked fine?” Itadori asked in confusion. “When I got my trial Rut, I felt like I was gonna die and I can’t stop drinking water since I was sweating all over. I can’t even sleep!”

“That’s because you don’t have a mate to help you out.” Maki snorted. “If you got a mate to ease your body with their scent, you’d be like Megumi right now. If an Omega is being taken care of well enough, you’ll be able to see the glow—which was what you saw on Megumi.”

“Wait…you’re saying Fushiguro has a mate?!” Kugisaki screamed. If there was one thing she knew about Alpha and Omega, it was their weird pairing system. Alpha and Omegas don’t date like Betas. Instead, they were able to tell with one glance who should be their partner and who shouldn’t. It’s kind of like love at first sight, but it was apparently way stronger than that considering they would only choose one person for their entire lifetime.

“That guy’s mated?!” Itadori’s jaw was practically touching the ground.

“Hm? You two didn’t know?” Panda tilted his head and twitched those fluffy black ears. “Fushiguro’s Alpha is—”

“Panda!” Maki shouted, interrupting whatever Panda was going to say. She smirked widely, showing off her pearl white teeth. “If you wanna know, why don’t you two go ask Megumi yourselves? I’m sure it’ll be a nice surprise~”

And that was how Itadori and Kugisaki found themselves standing in front of Fushiguro’s room.

“…Hey, knock already,” Kugisaki hissed, keeping her voice soft so she wouldn’t be heard.

“Why me?!” Itadori said back just as quietly. “Besides, what if his Alpha is in his room right now?! Fushiguro’s in Heat isn’t he? That would just be awkward!”

“So you know about awkwardness?” Kugisaki’s eyes swept over the boy up and down as if suddenly seeing him in a new light.

“Of course, what do you take me for?!”

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before they moved at the same time. They tiptoed up to the door and pressed their ears against the flat surface of the wood.

They listened for a long time, but nothing…

There wasn’t a single sound.

Was Fushiguro even in his room?

“Maybe he’s not back?” Itadori guessed.

“Hey, how does your Rut work?” The Beta lightly kicked the Alpha’s shin. “Can you usually move around during your Rut?” From what she saw on Fushiguro, he looked perfectly fine this morning though Maki did say that was because the raven got an Alpha to help him.

“Hmm…it usually gets really bad at night—like a fever with headache and all. Daytime is usually better so yeah, we could still walk around if we need to.” Itadori replied.

“Which means that guy will definitely be back before nighttime! Let’s hide and wait for him!” Kugisaki decided with Itadori earnestly agreeing. The two of them ran outside. It was a good thing they can get a clear view of Fushiguro’s door through the window so they hid behind some bushes and waited.

They waited and waited, but still nothing.

There wasn’t a single person in sight.

The sun slowly started to set and the mosquitos became more and more active. Kugisaki was the first to lose her patience despite how she was the one who suggested waiting.

“Argh!! I can’t take this anymore!” She shouted, slapping another mosquito that landed on her leg. “Where is that guy and his freakin’ Alpha?!”

“Wouldn’t it be just easier to guess who it is? I mean, there’s not that many of us." Itadori pointed out. 

Kugisaki huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “It can’t be the second years and the third years are still suspended from school.”

“Maybe they're allowed back? Ruts and Heats are pretty painful so if you got a partner, I don't think the school would keep them away."

“But then we never met any of the third years, how are we supposed to know?” Kugisaki questioned. “Come to think of it, there’s another person in the second year we didn’t meet as well. I heard from Maki-senpai that he’s also an Alpha.”

“Ah, that Okkotsu guy?” Itadori slapped another mosquito on her cheek. “Hey, can we get out of—”

“Shh!” Kugisaki hissed, grabbing the Alpha’s head and pushed him back down into the bushes with her following close behind. “Look!”

Itadori peeked through the gaps of the leaves. In the bright hallway, a person was strolling by the windows with one hand holding what seemed like a lunchbox and the other tucked in his pocket.

“Gojo-sensei?!” Itadori blinked at the sight of their teacher.

The pair watched the man stopped in front of Fushiguro’s door and gave it three quick knocks.

The two students watched with halted breaths. They swallowed at the same time, staring unblinkingly at that door until the doorknob twisted and it opened.

Fushiguro was revealed, wearing nothing but an overly large t-shirt with a wide collar, showing off his collarbones and most importantly—his scent glands on the base of either side of his neck. The scent glands that were usually hidden under the skin were swelled up and extremely painful to look at.

At glance, Fushijoru looked as though he wasn’t wearing any pants, but upon closer inspection, they saw the edge of his black shorts sticking out from under his shirt.

“S-should we be looking at this…?” Itadori asked, averting his eyes and looking extremely flustered.

“Ah?” Kugisaki turned and when she saw the redness on Itadori’s face, she glanced back at Fushiguro.

The boy seemed feverish and Kugisaki could tell from the rise and fall of his chest as well as his parted lips that he was also panting. His eyes looked slightly foggy, lacking the usual sharpness. Around those half-lidded eyes were also tints of red…as if he had been crying or something.

“…Is that erotic?” 

“Sorry, yes…” Itadori admitted shamefully, covering his face in his hands.

Kugisaki stared at the Alpha, then back to the Omega. “Man, I seriously don’t get you Alphas and Omegas.”

She squinted her eyes at the two who are just talking by the doorway with Gojo holding out the lunchbox and Fushiguro taking it.

“What, he’s just delivering dinner.” Kugisaki sighed in disappointment. However, her disappointment didn’t last long, for that the next moment, Gojo was wrapping an arm around Fushiguro’s waist and pulling the boy against him.

“Oi, oi, oi, what is this turnout?!” Kugisaki gapped, hiding deeper into the bushes as she watched Gojo rubbed his and Fushiguro’s cheeks together in an affectionate way before dipping his head to nuzzle the Omega’s neck.

“What is it?” Itadori asked, looking back only for his jaw to smash through the ground.

“Hey, correct me if I’m wrong…” Kugisaki’s brows were twitching nonstop, “but touching an Omega’s neck like that is equivalents to kissing…right?”

“Y-yeah, and you can’t touch the scent glands unless you’re…” Itadori’s voice trailed off when they saw Gojo’s tongue darted out of his lips and swiped over Fushiguro’s scent gland.

Fushiguro’s eyes fell shut, his body shaking uncontrollably with his lips pressed into a thin line, seeming to be desperately holding something back. Kugisaki stared at the raven’s flushed face, then to his legs that were trembling so hard she bet the only thing holding him up was Gojo’s arm around his waist.

“…Mated,” the Alpha finished weakly.

“Y-you know…it might be erotic…just a little…” Kugisaki hesitantly admitted. Suddenly, this whole peeking thing felt extremely wrong. She felt like they were intruding on Fushiguro’s private moment until another issue popped out in her mind. “Wait, isn’t he an old man?!”

“I’m only in my late twenties you know? You make it sound as though I’m doing something illegal.” A voice spoke behind the two of them, causing them to jump out of the bush with surprised yelps.

The pair whirled around to see Gojo standing behind them with his hands in his pockets and a smirk gracing his lips.

“Gojo-sensei!” Itadori gasped while Kugisaki quickly collected herself.

“But isn’t that right?” She pointed a finger at him. “Fushiguro’s still underage! Even if you two are mates, this is against the law!”

“Hey now, don’t start making me a pedophile all of the sudden!” Gojo said, holding his hands up. “All I’m doing is rubbing my scent on him to help relieve him of his Heats.”

“Really?” Kugisaki eyed the world’s strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer suspiciously.

“Really~”

All of the sudden, their surroundings became bright. It took the two students a couple of seconds to realize that they had changed place. Or rather, Gojo had picked them both up and brought them into the building!

“What are you two doing?” Fushiguro stared at his two classmates that suddenly appeared in front of him along with his teacher.

“Fushigurou!” Itadori blushed and frantically looked away.

“Well…we were curious about your Heat partner…” Kugisaki muttered. “Nevermind that, you’re mated with Gojo-sensei?!”

“Yeah,” Fushiguro replied like it wasn’t a big deal. “We realized we were mates when we first met.”

“When was that?” Itadori asked while having his eyes averted.

“…When I was in elementary.”

Kugisaki and Itadori immediately snapped their heads to Gojo standing behind them���the expressions on their faces identical, clearly expressing their inner thoughts.

“Can you two please stop looking at me like I’m a piece of trash?” Gojo was suddenly feeling a sense of déjà vu. The last time he got these accusing looks was when the current second years found out about the age of his little mate. “It’s not uncommon for Alphas and Omegas to have wide age gaps since we don’t choose our partners like Beta.”

“Then do you regret it?” Kugisaki narrowed her eyes.

“Of course not!” Gojo laughed, walking around his two students and wrapped his arm around Fushiguro who was sweating badly yet still strongly holding on. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now if you’ll excuse us, I think Megumi is starting to reach his limit~”

With a wave, Gojo walked Megumi into his room and closed the door behind them. A second later, Kugisaki and Itadori heard the sound of the lock clicking on the other side.

The two stood outside for a long time before they looked at each other and turned to leave.

“Seriously? They must be at least ten years apart.” Kugisaki mumbled as they walked down the hallway.

“Is it bad to be ten years apart?” Itadori asked. “I mean, as long as you like each other, that’s all that matters, right?”

Kugisaki’s eyes widened. She stared at Itdaori who was smiling that goofy smile that it just made her want to slap him. At the same time, she couldn’t help but smile and thought back to Fushiguro and Gojo’s interactions. Now looking back, it made sense why these two were always so close to each other.

She always assumed it was purely because they knew each other for a long time, but to think it’d be like this…

Wait, then didn’t that mean out of the three of them, Fushiguro was the first one to snag himself a partner?!

“Damn it all!!”

“What’s with you?” Itadori jumped back in surprise at the girl’s outburst.

┈┈┈┈ ❖ ┈┈┈┈

“Finally the obstacles are gone,” Gojo hummed before looking down at his Omega in his arms. He chuckled and nuzzled his face into the sleek black hair. “I’ve kept you waiting, haven’t I?”

“What do you think?” The resentment was clear in Megumi’s voice. This bastard of an Alpha knew his classmates were watching, that was why he took so long to bring the food back! He purposely walked his way back so they would see everything!

“Just…hurry…!!”

“You should eat something first.” Gojo sat down on Megumi’s bed and pulled the Omega onto his lap. He raised a hand to set up a small screen around the room so they wouldn’t be disturbed. “You haven’t eaten anything since morning.”

“It’s fine, I need…” Megumi couldn’t even finish speaking before he wrapped his arms and legs around the Alpha. He pulled open his teacher’s collar and started rubbing their necks together.

“That excited are you?” Gojo muttered by his ears before Megumi let out a strained moan.

His body crumbled, feeling strength zapped out of him when the Alpha wrapped his mouth around one of his scent glands and sucked.

“Sensei…!!”

“I told you, call my name when it’s just the two of us, Megumi.” Gojo muttered against his ear, his large hand rubbing the Omega’s back before sliding downward.

Megumi shivered, his arms tightening around the Alpha’s neck and his long legs clamping around that strong hips. Despite the nervousness the Omega was displaying, that hand didn’t stop. It reached the Omega’s lower spine before the hand lifted, bypassing the tantalizing globes of flesh and tenderly touched the scent glands on his inner thighs.

Tears rolled out from the corner of his eyes and Megumi was immediately boneless in the Alpha’s arms. He panted heavily, eyes barely open as the Alpha licked at the scent glands on his neck while his fingers continued to stroke the ones inside his thighs.

“Megumi, did I ever tell you why I like zunda and cream flavoured Kikufuku?” Gojo gave that scent gland a hard kiss and was rewarded with a cute mewl from the Omega. He didn’t bother waiting for a reply because he knew Megumi wasn’t capable of words anymore. His brain was still functioning, he can still hear, but his body was no longer his to control.

“Because your scent is very similar to zunda. It’s mild, fragrant with a hint of sweetness. And your scent gland…”

“Aaah!” Megumi jumped when teeth lightly scraped over the sensitive glands while the scent gland on his thigh was pinched.

“Whenever you’re in Heat, your scent gland taste like the finest whipped cream. It’s simply exquisite. I just can’t get enough of that flavour…”

Megumi was slowly turning into a sobbing mess and the Alpha kept biting into his scent gland. It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but it was certainly hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. Gojo wanted nothing more than to break the skin—to taste the Omega’s blood and leave an unhealable scar on these scent glands so everyone will know that this Omega was taken.

But he can’t.

He can’t mark his Omega now.

“It makes me want to suck them dry so I could fill it up with my scent.” With that said, Gojo began to greedily suck on the tender scent gland. His mouth was instantly filled with the rich sweetness of the Omega’s pheromone. Normally, Gojo would take his time lapping at the scent glands and savouring it like a cat would do to cream, but for the first time, he was the one who became impatient.

All of this was due to Itadori.

Despite how he behaved, Gojo was an Alpha and Alphas all had a short fuse when it came to their Omegas. Gojo was no exception. Even if Itadori was a child, he was foremost an Alpha—the opposite gender of Omega. Letting the boy see Megumi up close like that made Gojo’s blood boil, yet it needed to be done.

He needed to show a certain curse who this Omega belonged to.

Gojo had long since noticed Sukuna’s interest towards his Omega.

Sukuna wanted his Omega, and Gojo wasn’t going to ever let that happen.

Fushiguro Megumi was his Omega and Gojo Satoru will be his only Alpha.

He wrapped one arm around the Omega’s back and spread his hand between the boy’s shoulder blades. He pushed the Omega against his body with so much force that Megumi could barely move. The Omega clutched onto his Alpha as the latter continued to gulp down his scent.

Once Gojo drank every last drop of the boy’s scent from that gland, he finally pulled his lips away. He admired the abused and shrivelled little scent gland before he turned his head to the other one and latched on.

Megumi could no longer see with all the tears flooding out of his eyes. He couldn’t even lift a finger. All he could do was let out obscene noises with the older Alpha thoroughly abusing his scent glands.

“Hah…” Gojo sighed blissfully when he released Megumi’s scent gland. He ran a tongue over his lips to catch any lingering trace of the delicious scent there.

It wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

Gojo rubbed his calloused finger over the sensitive gland inside his student’s thigh, causing the body in his arm jerked violently.

His eyes dropped between the boy’s quivering legs, pushing up his shorts a bit more to reveal the scent glands hidden underneath.

Those poor glands were so red and plump that just staring at it made the Alpha’s mouth water. Gojo wanted to wrap his lips around those glands and suck them dry, but he can’t. Gojo heaved out a heavy sigh and nipped the raven’s cute earlobe. He ran a tongue over the abused scent glands on his neck, causing Megumi to shiver before finding the energy to move.

The Omega slowly pulled his head from where he was resting on the Alpha’s shoulder. He turned and under Gojo’s amused gaze, he pressed his lips against the man’s cheek.

“Cheeks are fine, right?”

Due to Megumi being too young (illegal), Gojo specifically set a bunch of rules for them and kissing was one of them. Sure touching each other’s scent glands was much more intimate than kissing, but it was necessary to relieve the Omega from the burns of his trial Heat.

While it was true that Gojo never specified what part they shouldn’t kiss (lips obviously), he never thought Megumi would ever take the initiative. He couldn’t stop the huge, silly grin from spreading on his face as he cradled Megumi and fell onto the bed.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice filled with happiness. “Hurry and grow up, Megumi!”

“You sound like a creep,” Megumi retorted, but buried his face into the Alpha’s neck and rubbed his nose against the man’s scent glands. The scent of the Alpha comforted him, especially during Heat where he felt extremely vulnerable.

“Ginger…”

“Hm?”

“You smell like ginger,” The Omega mumbled, seeming a bit embarrassed from how his gaze was drifting off to the side.

“Ginger, eh?” The Alpha laughed. Megumi suddenly felt a wave of irritation at not being able to completely see his mate’s face, so he reached up to the man’s face.

Gojo just sat there, not doing anything to stop those fingers from hooking around the blindfold and pulling it off his face. The moment the blindfold was off, a pair of beautiful blue eyes opened up, reflecting the image of Megumi like a pair of clear mirror.

The man smiled at his little mate before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the Omega’s cheek.

“Cheeks are fine, right?” The Alpha muttered against the smooth skin, throwing Megumi’s words back at him. When he saw the colour blossoming throughout the raven’s face, he nearly laughed. He wanted to tease his little mate more, but he just took a bite of that soft cheek before pulling away. “Are you hungry?”

Megumi shook his head and buried his face into the Alpha’s chest. Gojo chuckled. He cuddled with the boy in his arms and ran a hand through the raven hair. It was only at times like this that the Omega allowed himself to be spoiled by his Alpha, so Gojo will make sure to thoroughly spoil him.

“Megumi.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Gojo watched gleefully at the way the Omega froze in his arm and the colours on his face deepened.

“Hey Megumi~ Don’t you have anything to say back to me?” He teased, poking the boy’s side.

Megumi only buried his face deeper against the Alpha’s chest. Gojo heard him muttered three very special words. His grin grew wider and his poking on the boy persisted.

“What was that? I didn’t catch it, what did you say?”

“…I said go die.”

“No, no, I’m sure you said three words~”

“So you did hear it!”

“I didn’t! Come on, say it again, Me-gu-m—mph!”

Their conversation ended with Megumi slamming a pillow into his teacher’s face.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 63 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: The red carpet turned into a major headache for Raja as the Galactica holiday party got underway.

This Chapter: It’s all eyes on Miss Fame as she finally finds out about her best friend and her assistant arriving as a couple. And everyone except Violet seems to enjoy all the shit-talking.

***

The Christmas Party was Maxwell's favorite company event of the year. It was always wonderfully decadent, Fame apparently setting out with an intention of topping perfection every single year, and so far, Maxwell hadn’t seen her fail.

The air smelled like pine and peppermint, the air conditioning running overtime so it almost felt like they were in a winter wonderland.

It wasn’t that Maxwell didn’t like to dance, wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy letting loose when he went with Bob to one of his drag shows, but on a night like this, he preferred observing, watching for inspiration and being taken in by the grandeur.

Most of the designers were already on the dance floor--April twirling in a gorgeous yellow dress, Kiara dripping with gold while Alexis was wrapped in bold red. The marketing team, on the other hand, had set up shop at the bar, some of them already seeming a bit messy.

Maxwell was nibbling on the selection of canapes he had managed to snatch from a waiter, smoked Alaskan salmon on rye, cranberry and brie bites and Swiss chocolate dipped clementines among the night's selection.

“Wait. Wait wait wait wait.”

Maxwell turned his head, looking over at Bob who was standing next to him at the small table they had occupied, Roxy’s face twisted in a shiteating grin.

If it had been any other night, Bob would have been on the dance floor, tearing it up, but Roxy had dangled a secret in front of his face, and if there was one thing Bob loved, it was a good secret.

He had been plying her with drinks from the moment they had arrived, and it seemed like she had finally spilled the beans while Maxwell wasn’t paying attention.

“She’s what?” Bob asked, trying to get Roxy to repeat herself. “Tell me who Courtney’s dating!”

“She’s dating beedeearrrr,” Roxy slurred, and Bob looked at Maxwell, who shrugged.

“I have no idea what she’s saying.”

“Bee! Deeeee! Arrrrrrrgh!” Roxy said again, doing her absolute best to separate her words.

“Wait, BDR? As in Bianca Del Rio?” Bob asked, mouth open in amazement.

“Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!” Roxy crowed, her brown hair in the most elegant updo, a sparkling shawl over her shoulders. “But nobody knows.”

“Then how do you know?” Bob asked, arms crossed, a skeptical expression creasing his features.

“Because. She’s been getting deliveries.”

“So? Isn’t it normal for Bianca to have stuff delivered to Miss Fame’s office? Aren’t they good friends?”

“Yes! But! Not to Fame. And anyway, they’re coming together tonight,” Roxy said, lifting her glass to her lips. “Courtney said so herself.”

“Sure, sure...I’ll believe that when I see it,” Bob laughed.

Maxwell rolled his eyes just as Jovan walked stiffly up to their table, holding a cocktail.

“What’s going on with your suit?” Maxwell asked, reaching out to touch the orange fabric.

“Spray paint made the fabric inflexible,” Jovan said, “But I made it work.”

“Did you? Because from here you look like you can’t walk.”

“Yeah but I look amazing. Fair trade.”

“If you say so,” Maxwell laughed, thumping him on the shoulder.

“Violet! Come here!” Bob called, beckoning her over. He leaned in and told Roxy, “Violet will know if your little rumor is true.”

*

“Hey!” Sutan got dragged through the crowd, Raja’s nails digging through his suit jacket, his twin holding him a death grip. “Raj, calm down!”

Sutan had barely made it off the carpet and detached himself from the women he had taken pictures with to reunite with Violet, relocating his girlfriend in such a big crowd always a hassle when Raja had snatched him up.

[We-] Raja released him, looking over her shoulders to make sure that they were alone before she continued, [have a problem.]

[I figured.] Sutan straightened his jacket, his sleeve completely twisted. It had to be a serious shit situation if Raja was this paranoid, Indonesian usually enough for her to say whatever she wanted wherever she wanted. [So what’s going on?]

[Bianca brought Courtney.] Raja crossed her arms, her nostrils flaring with annoyance.

[... Who?] Sutan had no idea who that was, the name not ringing any bells.

[Fame’s assistant.]

[The small blonde?] He vaguely remembered her from when Violet had broken her ankle, the woman kneeling next to them, but there hadn’t been anything special about her at all, her face completely blurred out in his mind.

[Yes.]

It took a moment to click, a moment for Sutan to realize what his sister had actually said.

[Oh fuck….] His eyes widened.

[Oh fuck exactly.] Raja huffed. [She is here. As Bianca’s date.]

Oh this. This was bad. There was no way at all that this would go over well with Fame, the entire situation truly an absolute shit show.

[Did you talk to her?]

[I tried,] Raja rolled her eyes, her fingers tapping on her arm, cold annoyance coming off of his twin in waves. [But you know her-]

Sutan did know Bianca, actually, he knew Bianca very well.

[Please don’t tell me.]

[Yes.]

Great. Great great great.

[Okay, so.] Sutan sighed, crossing his own arms. [Are we doing a divide and conquer? Going for the black out? Because I think I can talk Fame into trying all the gins with me-]

It wasn’t that Sutan didn’t like spending time with Fame, getting drunk with her actually a lot more fun than strangers would expect, but he had genuinely looked forward to going home and peeling his girlfriend out of her dress, drinking Fame under the table for the common good wrecking any chance of that happening.

[Bianca said no distractions.] Raja rolled her eyes again. [She wants Fame to-] Raja held up her hands, doing quotation marks with her fingers as she switched to english. “Just deal with it”

“Well fuck.” Sutan groaned, Fame just dealing with it about as fun as rolling around naked in hot coals, his sisters damage control duties as Fame’s right hand woman never ending.

*

“Katya!” Pearl grinned when she finally spotted her roommate between the forest of Christmas trees, the blonde standing against the wall in her poofy dress, not at all looking interested in the party that was happening around her.

“I got you a present,” Pearl slid in next to her, Katya barely raising an eyebrow when Pearl handed her a drink. “The best virgin drink the bartender could whip up!”

“Thanks…” Katya took the glass, the rim lined in sugar, a couple of maraschino cherries floating around in the orange soda.

“Annnnnnd...I saved the best for last,” Pearl smiled, reaching into her pocket, refusing to let Katya’s downbeat mood ruin the night, even if she had to force her friend to feel happy. “I got you a little umbrella. Look! It’s tiny!”

Katya rolled her eyes slightly, but still took the umbrella. “Thanks, Pearlie.”

“Do you wanna dance?” Pearl asked, hoping to distract her while Trixie was off schmoozing the Bloomingdale’s buyer.

“Uh...maybe in a bit,” Katya said. “You know, you don’t have to babysit me. Don’t you have people you need to talk to?”

“Nope!” Pearl smiled, sidling up and leaning against the wall beside her. “I’m all yours.”

“Lucky me.”

*

“Sure I can’t tempt you with a sip?”

Violet looked over at Jovan, who was grinning at her, her coworker standing in a bright orange suit that he never would have gotten away with if he wasn’t known as the company's kooky designer.

It was kind of him to offer, Violet unable to have a drink of her own unless she was sitting, but there was one glaring impracticality with the arrangement Jovan was offering her.

“I’d rather not share a straw, but thanks-”

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t know anything Chachki?” Bob smiled, him taking a long sip of his own cocktail, the man like a fish in water and as giddy as a child.

“Why would I?”

“Because you’re dating Sutan?”

Bob and Roxy had tried to pry information out of Violet, had tried to make her confess if Courtney was dating Bianca, but Violet honestly had no idea, and most importantly, she didn’t give a single shit about it.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Lovely eyes!” Violet was cut off at the sound of Sutan’s voice, her boyfriend walking up to the group. “There you are.”

Sutan smiled, pressing a kiss against her temple, and Violet couldn’t help but lean into it, even though she was annoyed with him, the man just leaving her with no explanation when Raja had pulled him aside.

“Mr. Amrull!” Maxwell held a hand out, and Sutan took it, Violet barely keeping from rolling her eyes at Maxwell’s obvious eagerness. Thankfully, Bob had no such qualms, openly making fun of his boyfriend.

“Mr. Amrull,” Bob wiggled his brows, holding his own hand out to shake with Sutan, while staring directly at Maxwell, who blushed all the way to his ears, the red matching wonderfully with his sky blue suit.

“Shut up!” Maxwell hissed, pushing an elbow into Bob’s side, but it didn’t seem like Sutan had noticed, the man moving as close to her side as he could, his voice low.

“I’m sorry I just left.” Sutan looked at her, a genuinely apologetic expression on his face, and Violet felt a little bit of her annoyance melt away, Sutan so incredibly good at making her feel like she mattered to him. “There was a slight situation.”

Judging from Raja’s face, Violet wouldn’t call it slight, but before she had a chance to open her mouth, Bob and Roxy had already stepped in.

“Situation?” Bob looked delighted, while Roxy only did a slightly better job of pretending to be a professional.

“Is there anything we can help with?”

“My sister has it all handled.” Violet saw Sutan put a hand in his pants pocket, his tone clearly dismissive while still being polite.

“So there is a real issue?” Bob’s eyes widened, and he took a step forward, his interest just Bob’s usual curiosity, but for once, Violet felt oddly protective of Sutan.

“Don’t answer that.” She leaned against his side, letting him take a little bit of her weight, telling him that she was there with him. “He loves gossip.”

It was both a warning, and an attempt to lighten the mood, and thankfully, Jovan laughed at her jab, Sutan’s hand coming around her waist and holding her close.

“I can hear that.” Sutan smiled down at her, the warmth and humor back in his eyes, his hand grip tightening in the most delicious way. “Can I whisk you away?”

“Please,” Violet smiled back, her heart skipping a beat. She couldn’t wait to find a place to sit down and hopefully be left alone, but it seemed like life had other plans.

“There!” They all turned at the sound of Roxy’s voice, the receptionist pointing into the crowd at Courtney and Bianca who were walking side by side, their fingers intertwined. “I told you so!”

*

“Juju,” Raven hissed, sitting down next to her best friend, her heart beating away in her chest. “You are not going to believe this!”

“Believe what?” Juju was sitting at the VIP bar with Detox at her side, Juju is a gorgeous blue gown  with ruffles over her bump, the dress almost concealing the fact that she was getting rounder and rounder every day.

“Yes,” Detox chimed in, “Believe what?”

“I am trying,” Raven looked around, desperate not to draw Fame’s attention, the blonde thankfully caught up in conversation on the other side of the room, “not to cause suspicion.”

“Oh?”  Detox’s eyes widened, cheshire smirk on his face since the man could smell drama from miles away.

“Raja left me all alone.”

“Really?” Juju raised an eyebrow, “That’s it? I don’t think that warrants-”

“No! You’re not listening. Raja left me, because Bianca is here with someone!”

“So?” Detox sighed. “She has a flavor of the month, how’s that news?”

“This isn’t just any flavor of the month. I didn’t know why I recognized her at first.” In honesty, Raven had been fuming when Raja had left her alone; the only reason she hadn’t kicked up a fuss the fact that there were cameras present and that this was an industry event. “But then I remembered.” It had taken a while, and Raven was pretty sure she wouldn’t have realized who Bianca’s date was if she hadn’t looked so lost. “It’s Fame’s assistant.”

“Oh nooooo…” Juju said, mouth opening wide in horror.

“What?” Detox grinned, his eyes filled with delight. “Oh this...this is a mess I can’t wait to see.”

“Look!” Raven exclaimed, and Juju’s eyes practically bugged out of her head at the sight of Bianca and Courtney walking across the ballroom, straight towards Fame.

Juju grabbed Raven’s arm, squeezing it tight. “Omigod Fame sees them. Omigod omigod omigod…”

“Hey guys,” Raja said, strolling up to the group. “Sorry for leaving, princess, but I had to-”

“I know! We’re watching the drama right now,” Raven said, taking Raja’s arm and pulling her close, making sure she knew that all was forgiven.

“Oh fuck,” Raja groaned, turning away and hiding her head in Raven’s hair. “I can’t look.”

*

Fame smiled benignly, surveying the party with a pleased expression. So far, everything was perfect. She really had to pat herself on the back for pulling off such an extraordinary event year after year. With Patrick happily chowing down at the buffet, she’d strolled off to admire the indoor forest, the trees huge and impressive, covered with a dusting of glittery white snow. She took a deep breath, turning around--and that’s when she saw them.

Bianca, striding towards her with a smile on her face and a spring in her step, her fingers laced together with none other than Fame’s very own Executive Assistant.

Fame stared at them, gripping her champagne glass, blood rushing through her ears. How dare she?

Fame had told Bianca to stay away from Courtney, less than a month ago, and now, she was bringing her as a date, with no prior warning, to a Galactica party of all places?

Even worse--Bianca then gave her a mildly sheepish, casual little wave. Was she on drugs? That was the only possible explanation for this kind of egregious lapse in judgment.

Fame could see how everyone was watching them, Courtney and Bianca suddenly the focus of the party instead of the decor or the menu or the music she had worked so hard on arranging. Fame hated when her plans didn’t work out, when things took a turn she wasn’t aware of, and yet, it seemed like Bianca hadn’t even had the courtesy to warn her that she was going to be all over the gossip sites tomorrow.

She watched them approach, noting that Courtney, at least, had the decency to look both frightened and apologetic. Well, good. She should be frightened. They should both be frightened. As they got closer and closer, Fame couldn’t help but notice the ring she’d bought Bianca for her birthday glittering on her finger.

Well, if she thought that was going to win her any brownie points after this stunt, she was dead wrong.

Fame painted a big, beaming smile on her face, venom dripping from the corners of her mouth, as she opened her arms to Bianca and crooned out, “Merry Christmas, darling!”

*

There was nothing on the planet that Courtney could imagine would cause her to let go of Bianca’s hand in that moment, walking across the grand hotel ballroom towards Miss Fame. At first, her face looked shocked, and Courtney's stomach sank, wondering for about the thousandth time today if showing up on Bianca’s arm was a bad idea.

If her death grip on Bianca’s poor hand was causing her pain, she didn’t give any sign of it, simply squeezed her back, murmuring, “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” under her breath.

Courtney thought that Miss Fame’s shocked glare was scary, but she was wholly unprepared for how much worse it would be when she smiled, an almost manic grin spreading across her face as she opened her arms to Bianca.

“Merry Christmas, darling!” she cried, throwing her arms around Bianca’s shoulders and giving her a tight hug. She turned to Courtney, voice light and nonchalant, as if this was all totally normal. “Hello, Courtney. How are you enjoying the party, dear?”

“Oh, um…” Courtney found herself at a loss for words. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been expecting. Maybe Fame pulling Bianca aside to lecture her like Raja had. Or giving them both irritated looks and demanding that they keep a low profile. But this, casual small talk? She felt dismally unprepared. “It’s beautiful, Shangela really did a great job.”

Fame gave a low, dry chuckle. “Yes. Shangela. Truly a visionary.”

“Well I mean...you know, executing your vision, Miss,” Courtney said quickly, trying to recover from her obvious blunder. Shit.

“It’s as spectacular as always, blondie,” Bianca said, squeezing Courtney’s fingers slightly, reassuring her that everything was okay.

“I’m delighted you think so,” Fame replied in her most honeyed voice.

*

“This is great,” Detox laughed. “You can literally see the steam coming out of her ears.”

“Shut up, De!” Juju slapped his arm.

Detox couldn’t help it--he enjoyed seeing Fame shaken like this. He’d known her for many years, and generally she was the picture of cool, calm, and collected perfection, so seeing her fury when some small thing went wrong was hilarious. And even better, the fact that she was mad at Bianca, who was normally untouchable.

Over the years, he’d taken more than his fair share of shit for his hair and wardrobe choices, so seeing someone else in the hot seat was delightful. He giggled happily, sipping his cocktail.

“They’re all the way on the other side of the room,” he said. “She can’t hear us.”

“Come on. We both know Fame is basically a bat.”

Detox laughed, shaking his head at his wife’s adorable paranoia, when he saw Sutan approaching the group, Violet hobbling beside him on her crutches.

“Hey Tan!” Detox said, greeting his friend with a hug. He’d always loved Sutan, but they’d become even closer once Karl had moved, the two of them often escaping for a smoke and some quiet time away from the girls.

“Scoot over Raj.”

“Can’t live without your sister?” Detox lifted an eyebrow as Sutan sat down, making room for Violet as well.

“We’re fraternal, not identical,” Sutan put an arm behind Raja’s back, and she slumped back against him. “And we’re not connected at the hip.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Detox joked.

“What’s with them?” Sutan asked, gesturing to Juju and Raven, who had barely acknowledged his presence, their eyes still glued to the drama playing out with Fame.

“They’re obsessed with Bianca’s new trick.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes, that,” Detox smirked. It was in moments like these when he was extra annoyed about Fame not letting him have his reporters inside the venue, because this would have been a delicious little story.

“I’ve gotta hand it to the little gold-digger,” Raven said, “She might be smarter than I thought.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with sleeping your way to glory,” Sutan said with a chuckle.

“Who says Bianca leads to that?” Raja smirked.

“Well, she certainly leads to better clothes.” Raven threw a lock of hair over her shoulder, “I bet those shoes cost more than that girl’s made in her life.”

“That’s probably true.” Detox smiled, Raven on a bitchy tangent a delight to experience.

“Bianca’s way too generous with these bitches, she should make them work harder for it.”

Sutan laughed again, practically choking on his drink, and said, “Great advice, Rave. Be sure to tell her that.”

“Honestly, she seems like a very nice girl,” Juju said, and off Raven’s scoff, added, “She does! I did her hair about a month ago. But this whole thing is just so…Bianca. In the worst way.”

“A trainwreck,” Raven agreed.

“Let’s go rubberneck up close!” Juju suggested, heaving herself up from the sofa, pulling Raven along with her, who then tugged on Raja’s arm.

“Ughhhh,” Raja groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Come on, come on. We all gotta kiss the ring. May as well be now,” Juju said, beckoning Detox and Sutan along with her, no one noticing that Violet was moving quickly in the opposite direction.

***

Violet had never been Courtney’s biggest fan. Hell, when she found out that she’d shown up on the red carpet with Bianca Del Rio tonight, her first thought had been what an absolutely idiotic move it was, the decision of being so public going against everything Violet had attempted to teach Courtney about blending into the background and being invisible when they still were in Fame’s office together.

However, that didn’t mean she wanted to listen to Sutan and his friends laughing about Courtney. It was incredibly disheartening to hear, not because they called her a trick or a gold-digger, Violet not giving two shits about Courtney’s feelings, but because those words meant there was a risk they were saying those exact same things about her behind her back.

So when they’d all headed over to say hello to Miss Fame, Violet had swung herself off in the opposite direction on her crutches, finding a seat in a relatively dark corner, hoping no one would see her while she took a few minutes to breathe deeply.

“Violet!”

Violet winced, then turned to see none other than Tatianna, who was in a gorgeous golden dress that made her skin glow, her makeup sparkly and colorful, a sweet scent enveloping her as Tatianna gave her a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry to hear what happened to your leg!”

“Hi-” Violet croaked out, desperately hoping she wasn’t blushing as Tatianna sat down next to her, their skirts fighting for space on the small couch.

“I just couldn’t believe it when they told us.” Tatianna’s wide brown eyes were filled with concern, her beautiful lips pursed in empathy. “Like, it happened right there, right in the middle of everything, just, boom!” Tatianna emulated a crashing noise, and Violet wished the floor would swallow her up.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

Tatianna laughed, not at all affected by Violet’s dry tone and sharp sarcasm, the other woman so stupidly pretty Violet swore she was sweating.

“Do you want something? A drink? Some water? I don’t mind getting it for you with your foot and all, the champagne is-”

“I better not.”

“Get more alcohol?” Tatianna grinned. “Me too girl,” she threw her hair over her shoulder, Violet hit with another wave of the delicious scent. “Better not make myself look a fool. It’s so good to see a familiar face. The only reason I’m even at this party is because of Courtney, and she looks...kind of occupied, so I don’t want to bother her.”

Violet had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from rolling her eyes.

“When I asked my agent to get on the guest list, she looked at me like I was crazy. Turns out, she didn’t even know this was happening!”

“Your agent?” This time, Violet did raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a model?”

“That’s what I tried to tell her!”

“Wow…” Any good agent worth their salt would know that it was bordering on crucial for newer models to be seen at industry events, and that Galactica was only outdone by Vogue when it came to throwing parties.

“But I guess that’s the life when you’re sighed with One Management.” Tatianna huffed, blowing a bit of her brown hair out of her face, their legs still pressed together. “They’re nice, but they’re not like, fashion fashion,” Tatianna waved her hand, “but they’re the only agency who wanted me.”

“Wait? What?” Violet sat up, not believing what she had just heard. “That’s insane! You’re like, one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met.”

“Awh,” Tatianna laughed, and if Violet’s ankle hadn’t been broken, this would have been the exact moment she had run away, a blush rising in her cheeks, what she said so beyond stupid. “You’re so sweet.”

Tatianna grinned, leaning in to give Violet’s cheek a kiss, her lips barely touching the skin before she pulled back.

“Thank you so much.”

“I-”

“Oh!” Someone behind her had obviously caught Tatianna’s attention, her hand finding Violet’s arm. “Gotta go! But it was so nice talking to you!” and then, after another hug and a flurry of hair, she was gone, leaving Violet to sit alone, her fingers finding her cheek to touch where Tatianna had just kissed it.

***

[anywhozits]

A Christmas Announcement

Rating: T Words: 5172

Verse: Canonverse Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Kristoff and Anna are excited to finally share the news of their heir-on-the-way with the Kingdom of Arendelle.

Notes: I wrote this last year and forgot to post it, but this is somewhat related to the Christmas fic I’m writing for this year so wanted to get this out before that one! (at least it’s in the same verse and has similar themes, hah) Anyway hope you enjoy and happy holidays!! Thanks for reading :)

READ ON AO3 HERE

The day was Christmas Eve, 1843. A couple years ago, the whole kingdom of Arendelle began celebrating together at the castle’s now officially annual Christmas ball. Something that Anna had begged Elsa to start since the great freeze ended and the doors to the castle became permanently open. It had taken awhile, but finally Elsa caved to her sister’s wishes, likely only partially due to years of internalized guilt for pushing her away, and the ball quickly became one of Anna’s most anticipated nights of the year. Now with Anna as Queen, the tradition continued.

The entire ballroom was filled with glittering decorations, tinsel adorning the sturdy wood beams. Buffet tables sat lining almost the entire left side of the room, filled bountifully with food to feed the whole town and then some. Lefse, lutefisk (the bane of child and teen Anna’s existence), farikal, pickled herring, kjottkaker, salmon, whale steak, sheep, all the traditional favorites. And that, of course, didn’t even including the two tables of desserts and pastries or the sprawling drink selection. A massive 12-foot Christmas tree stood proudly in the right corner of the space, decorated with great care by Anna and Kristoff themselves. Year after year, Anna always insisted she didn’t need any help from the castle attendants, only a few ladders and a few hours of time alone. She always pulled through. The tree—her pride and joy. This Christmas, Anna had also taken the time to pick out hundreds of presents for the Arendellian children and children-at-heart. Kristoff even did some woodworking for the occasion. Highlights included hand carved rocking horses, rolling reindeer on a string, and building blocks. They couldn’t wait for those presents to be torn open by frantic hands, truly cherishing the visual of children playing for hours on the sweeping ballroom floor, both King and Queen watching misty eyed as they imagined their own child playing along next year. A new tradition.

They had hired both a 5-piece band and a choir to make sure that the ball was not lacking in festive music and thus not lacking in dancing. The choir had kicked off the party singing Christmas songs in perfect harmony, the music floating through the castle, making the previously cold stone walls feel more comforting and protective. Guests had started arriving, smiles plastered on each of their faces as they ran through the open castle gates, eyes wide in childlike awe when they entered the ballroom to see the most elaborate Christmas ball yet.

But two people were thus far missing from the party.

Kristoff knocked softly on his and Anna’s chamber door before letting himself in. He saw Anna, dressed to the nines in a green velvet gown topped with white ruffles that hugged her shoulders. Her upper chest was left bare save for a three-layered pearl necklace, an early Christmas gift from Mattias. The sleeves gaped open, lined by white fur that Kristoff knew felt as soft as it looked. Her hair laid atop her head in an intricately braided bun, her gold and emerald crown placed perfectly in the middle, always bringing out the brilliant green that usually hid within her typically cerulean eyes. Kristoff could only think one word. Radiant. Anna was radiant. Sincerely, Anna sparkled. She always sparkled. But something about walking in on her like this, dressed for the ball, so majestic in every single way… made Kristoff feel as if he might cry for the love that grew and blossomed within his heart. A love so permanent… a love so unyielding that he felt it with both a fiery passion and a patient comfort. He took in a breath. Regarding her magnificence for a second time. Her gold shoes sparkled in the candlelight, heels subtle enough to allow her to dance for hours but tall enough to allow her to kiss him without getting on her tip toes. His eyes floated up to her dress yet again. Even though the gown cinched at her waist, Kristoff swore he could make out a little bit of the swell that was their growing child. He took in another breath. She looked ravishing. How could he be so lucky to call her his wife?

But Anna paid no mind to Kristoff, not then. She was looking in the mirror. Frowning. Frustrated.

But still so beautiful.

“Anna, honey, are you ready to go downstairs? The doors are open, and people are flooding in… I think even Elsa and Honeymaren are already here.” Elsa was finishing up the ice sculptures. Her only task this year, something that made her beyond thankful.

“I’m almost ready! I’m just… I don’t know. I don’t feel right. But I can’t put my finger on why.” Anna twirled around in front of the mirror. “The only thing keeping me chugging along is the promise of lots of food. I’m starving.”

“Yes—that was the journal entry for this week. Ravenously hungry. Insatiable I think was the word I used.” For Anna, eighteen-ish weeks pregnant meant the constant desire to stuff her face with literally everything she laid her eyes on. It was like she had this itch that could never be scratched. A deep hole in her stomach that could not ever be fully filled. But the most unfortunate part was that she somehow had recently begun to crave lutefisk. Lutefisk. The food she would have to plug her nose to eat as a kid. Clearly pregnancy made her leave logic at the door. Kristoff sauntered up to her and brought her in close, wrapping his strong arms around her frame, resting them gently on her mid-section, hooking his chin over her right shoulder and kissing her softly on first her shoulder and then her neck and then her cheek before settling back into the crook of her neck. He smiled. This was pure bliss.

Anna entangled her fingers with his own, both resting on her belly. She sighed. “I swear I could eat literally all of Sven right now and only feel a little bit guilty.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kristoff laughed into her shoulder.

“I’m starving!” Anna pouted, but then Kristoff kissed her neck again softly and she shivered. Too distracting.

“Well, I know for a fact there’s a lot of food in the ballroom if you want to get a move on…”

“I want to, I really do… but. Still. I’m … you know what? I think I know what it is,” Anna said, pulling away from Kristoff suddenly. “You know how a few weeks ago I had to switch to the maternity corset? Because I really uh—popped out that one morning and couldn’t fit into my old one anymore even with the laces practically undone?” One midwife had even said that Anna looked much bigger than what women usually did at this point in pregnancy. Something that she said could mean there was more than one baby on the way…Anna and Kristoff were far too thrilled with that possibility but had mutually decided they didn’t want to get their hopes up if it didn’t come to fruition. Their baby coming into the world already with a friend… already decidedly not alone. It felt almost serendipitous to Anna, but she still refused to think of it more than fleetingly. So for now—one baby. Singular baby.

“I remember,” he said.

“Well, I hate this thing. It’s so … constricting and it hurts and I can hardly breathe let alone gorge myself with disgusting and foul and gross but somehow still super satisfying lutefisk. Like do you really think this is good for the baby?”

Kristoff shook his head. “Probably not—”

But Anna was on a roll. She bulldozed through the answer he gave to her likely rhetorical question. “I know it’s not breathing or anything right? But … it kind of feels like I’m squishing the baby or something and knowing it’s yours and everything it’ll probably be massive so needs lots of room to… get that way. Oh wait no I can’t think about that. Oh God. Massive. Get that image out of my head please. Too big to come out of me and the pain and owwwww.”

Kristoff stepped closer to Anna and hugged her close, stroking comforting circles on her back. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. She whimpered. “For the record, I don’t think I was too big as a baby. Although, you know… I don’t remember.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Very helpful.”

“I do have some chocolate to tide you over, though. That’s helpful, right?”

Her eyes lit up instantly, nodding her head in ferocious fervor. “Yes, yes, yes. Super, super helpful. Very helpful. The most helpful of all helpful!” Kristoff reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out maybe six truffles. Anna ate them in a flash. “God, these are so good.” Then she frowned again. “But I can already feel my corset getting tighter! And, you know what? What’s it all for, hmm? So I can better hide I’m pregnant? Yeah that’s right I said the word. So, what? You know, it’s really grating to me that something that really deserves to celebrated is instead something that needs to be … hidden away. Like the expectation for a queen is to be prim and proper and ladylike and pure or—whatever…while also producing heirs upon heirs. So, what happens when the very thought of being ‘with child’ comes with this implication that you’re not pure? Even though obviously I mean it’s way more concerning if you’re married and still pure, right? And I know I’m saying this about royalty and everything but that’s just my situation. Generally it’s definitely not just for queens. This is any woman. The expectation of any woman.  Nobody cares if men are pure. So they’re just producing heirs or kids or namesakes? … left and right and it’s all fine and dandy. It’s just ... really frustrating. And this stupid corset is like the physical proof of this horrible thing and it’s really making me…so—angry.” Anna let out a long breath. It felt good to get all that out. It truly had been building upon itself in this storm of emotions for the last couple weeks. Constantly growing until this moment.

“You know you’re the Queen, right?”

“Uh—yeah. Pretty sure I just talked a lot about that in my little speech.”

“Yes, right. Yes. But I mean… you’re the Queen.”

“Yes, I know. What’s your point?”

“Well, you’ve got the power, baby,” Kristoff said. “Show them how it’s done. You can … make a decree or—or something. Or you can just lead by example. I’ll support you, Anna. You know I’ll support you. And I agree with you, too. The whole thing’s pretty ridiculous. And definitely not healthy for our massive baby.”

Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “Not funny.”

“Take it off, baby. Off with the maternity corset.”

“I want to … but then people will be able to tell, right?”

“You really think they don’t know? Let me ask you this. Truly—how many people do you think are actually in the dark?”

“Uh—I don’t know. Maybe … four?”

“Exactly! Don’t feel like you need to still hide it. The whole castle has known for a long time. You were wearing the maternity corsets! Someone had to make that for you and you know your maids knew right away. Word is out, Anna. We just can’t be open open about it yet. Soon … but you don’t need to hide it. You shouldn’t hide it.”

She contemplated his words for a minute or so before planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thanks, husband. You’re the best listener.” He grabbed her hand and gave her a quick twirl, already preparing for the dancing he knew would take up most of his night.

“Always, my sweet love.”

“Now help me get this thing off. Right now. Please.” Anna turned so her back was to him. His large hands wrapped around the velvet buttons of her dress, undoing them at an unparalleled pace. Soon, the dress dropped to the floor and Anna stepped out of it, only standing in her off-white corset and bloomers. The maternity corset had a slightly different shape, dipping lower to cover her entire stomach, and had two extra sets of laces, one on each side that supposedly allowed for more breathing room and expansion along with a growing belly, but Anna disagreed. It felt just as constricting as her usual corset. She jumped in front of Kristoff again. “Off, off, off!”

He obeyed again, large hands undoing the laces but moving closer as he did this, planting periodic kisses on her shoulders. His mind instantly shot back to the first time he unlaced her corset. Years ago.

The beginning of their … exploration was too hurried. They so rarely got time alone and took it whenever they could … wherever they could … as fast as they could. There was never time to take off any clothes. Dress scrunched up her waist, drawers and breeches pushed down to their ankles was the name of their game. But eventually they got bolder. They snuck around in the middle of the night… and in those stolen moments in the moonlight, they had more time. Kristoff remembered ripping off her dress, throwing it into the corner of her room. Turning his attention to her undergarments, working his hands around the laces, trying to figure out how to make this as swift as possible. He smirked. “Is this appropriate?”

“Of course not,” Anna giggled. Kristoff planted kisses on her bare shoulders and then her collarbones. “But when have I ever been concerned with what’s appropriate?”

Kristoff smiled again at the memory. When he finally shot back to reality, he saw that he was almost done with the laces. He pulled the last few and threw the corset far away from them. It landed with an air of dramatics on her dressing partition.

Anna sighed in relief. “God, you’re so much faster at this than my maids.”

“Years of practice paired with years of … urgency.” Kristoff said, smirking.

It had taken him much longer than he felt comfortable admitting to take that corset off that first night, but since then he’d figured out a foolproof strategy.

She turned around to give him a deep kiss. “I’m free. Thank you.”

Kristoff inhaled sharply. She was even more magnificent like this, ballgown tossed to the side.  He brought a hand up to cup her chin and his other drifted down to her stomach. He gave it a rub and she kissed him in response, giggling slightly. “You’re radiant, baby. So beautiful.”

“You really think so?”

“You take my breath away,” Kristoff said, meaning it truly and genuinely from the bottom of his heart. Anna beamed at him, feeling both unparalleled awe and unparalleled respect boiling deep within her soul. She regarded him now. The way the left side of his smile cocked up more than his right, sending him into an eternal mischievous smirk. The way his brown eyes always somehow teemed with an unusual mixture of curiosity and warmth. He was her rock. Her ocean. Her world. And she knew that the same was true for him. She was his rock. His ocean. His world.

Anna tried to put all of those feelings into words. “You—I need you to know that you’re—uh—perfect, Kristoff. Really perfect.” She used this word a lot. He doesn’t like it, he said. It’s not true, he said. He has his flaws, he said. But to Anna, even his flaws were perfect. So, he was perfect.

Kristoff smiled again. Mischievous still. But happy. Pleased. Tonight, he wouldn’t argue with her. He placed his hand on Anna’s swollen belly, rubbing gently. “I like this. Baby is free to be massive now.”

“Oh, shut up and help me put my dress back on,” Anna said through a laugh. “Might be a tough task since my waistline has expanded probably five sizes.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” Kristoff said, pulling desperately hard on either side of her dress before he could button them together. Eventually, he managed. Sure, the button stretched a bit and it threatened to pop off, but he thought maybe it would hold. At least for that evening.

“How do I look?” She gave him a twirl, settling in closer to him and cupping her belly slightly. She loved showing it off. The exciting proof of their future. Of what would come in May. “Ugh. I don’t wanna keep this a secret anymore. This is awful. How I lasted this long—it’s torture! Kristoff! Encourage our little one to make its presence known. Please, please, please.”

He smiled at his wife, dropping to his knees. Rubbing circles on her belly and planting gentle kisses all over before pulling away slightly, both hands still resting on the swell. Kristoff leaned in closer again and whispered, “Hey, little one…your mama and papa love you so much and want to tell the whole world how much we love you so we can celebrate you and love you publicly and—can you stretch out for us or move your little arms and legs or something? Mama and Papa are here for you, watching you grow… loving you…” He kissed her belly again. “We love you, little one.”

“Aww, Kris. You’re so cute.”

He stood up slowly. Waiting to see if it worked. Not that it had in the past… but still hopeful. Nothing. “You ready to go?”

“I’m ready to eat if that’s what you mean.”

They walked hand in hand through the castle hallways, still bursting with the beautiful harmonies of the choir, and finally through the doors of the ballroom. Each and every Arendellian guest turned to watch the Queen and King, or Prince—whatever—consort’s grand entrance. Some even started clapping. Clearly the party was already considered a hit.

Anna noticed out of the corner of her eye that a few of the women had started whispering to each other, their eyes glued to Anna’s midsection. Maybe even saying four people didn’t know was an overestimation.

Come on, little one. Move.

But still nothing.

Instead, Anna’s stomach growled, and she knew she needed to get to the food tables. Pronto. She saw Elsa there, too, finishing up the last of the ice sculptures. A reindeer looking much like Sven perched excitedly by the pickled herring. Perfect. Two birds, one stone.

Anna bounded up to her sister first, skipping in an unbridled excitement. Unfortunately, this excitement was almost purely due to the promise of stuffing lutefisk into her belly which made her mind want to stage a rebellion against her stomach at the very idea. But she paid no mind.

Her fabulous sister, first.

“Elsa, I’m so glad you came!”

Elsa laughed. Remaining calm, of course. As usual. She stood tall as Anna collapsed into her arms. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss your favorite night of the year.”

“Thanks for doing the sculptures, too. Everybody loves them,” Anna said, eyes drifting to the series of sculptures that adorned the space, catching a glimpse of a replica of her favorite snowman and smiling widely. “Especially giant Olaf at the dessert table.”

“That one’s my favorite to make.” Elsa took a step back, away from her sister by a couple paces. She took a moment to gaze intently at Anna, something that apparently had become the theme for the day, pursing her lips while deep in some train of thought. And then, suddenly, the corners of her mouth curled into a giddy grin. She closed the gap between them and whispered in Anna’s ear, “You’re glowing.”

Anna laughed. Elsa’s breath kind of tickled her ear. “I know, right?!”

“Is it weird if I say that I think pregnancy suits you?”

“Whoa, Elsa. That is way out of line. And you said the word pregnant? Shame on you!” Anna’s voice got dramatically low when she uttered the taboo word she didn’t actually think needed to be taboo.

Elsa blushed. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“I’m kidding, Elsa! I agree with you. Will come in handy—you know—because we want lots of babies and everything,” Anna said. “I love the word pregnant, too. It’s so much easier and less awkward than the whole with child or in the family way nonsense. Like talk about beating around the bush. Jesus.”

“You hungry?”

“Oh, God yes. Thanks for reminding me.” Anna turned, reading to make a beeline for the lutefisk. But then she chuckled slightly and spun back to face her sister. “You’ll never guess what I want to eat, though.”

“Uh—herring?”

“Lutefisk.”

“Lutefisk? You—Anna—want to eat lutefisk?”

“I legitimately want to stuff twenty-five pounds of lutefisk into my mouth right now.”

Elsa laughed in pure shock. “You’re right. I never would’ve guessed.”

“I don’t know if it’s the salt or the disgustingly chewy yet soft consistency that’s getting me going, but it’s doing it. I’m feeling all tingly thinking about it.” Anna shuddered involuntarily How did that sound so good? Truly how? Repulsive. Lutefisk was nothing short of repulsive. “Can you help me fill some plates full?”

“I think your King already has you covered.”

Kristoff, goofy grin plastered on his face, approached the sisters with three plates full of lutefisk and potatoes precariously perched on top of each other. Somehow his left hand held two full glasses of mulled wine.

He passed her a glass of wine and one plate of lutefisk to start. “For you, my love.” He handed the other glass of wine to Elsa who graciously accepted.

Anna attacked the plate. Slurping down the fish in record time. Her face twisted in to some kind of combination of a gag and a smile. “Oh God this is truly horrendous.” Gulp. “Horrid. No…disgusting.” Gulp. “And so grossly…slimy?” Gulp. One plate down. Kristoff handed her the next one. “But also… man oh man does it really hit the spot.”

“I always liked lutefisk,” Kristoff said, taking a piece for himself.

Anna stopped what she was doing and shot daggers at him. “So this is your fault? Lutefisk and a massive … I swear we’re gonna find a way for the trolls to make you go through this next time.”

“You know you love it.” Kristoff smiled mischievously yet again. Taking another satisfied bite of the lutefisk.

Anna pouted playfully and grabbed one handful of lutefisk, flinging it directly into Kristoff’s face. “Trolls.” Another piece. “You.” And another. Kristoff had started opening his mouth to catch the pieces, swallowing in bliss with each successful catch and each delicious bite. “Next.” Anna tried to remain serious, but a smile was toying on her lips. Another toss. “Time.” The grand finale. Anna tricked Kristoff with a fake throw and tossed it into her own mouth instead. He furrowed her eyebrows and looked around, confused. Not having any inkling as to what actually happened. Elsa had started cracking up. Those two. Always getting up to some kind of ridiculous antics.

Anna couldn’t contain her laughter anymore and it came spilling out quickly to the point where she could barely catch her breath. She felt something like gas bubbling in her stomach and tried to calm herself, worried she had upset the whole peace of her body by gorging herself with food and then laughing too hard. But she didn’t have any burp in her… curious. Gassy without gas. Once she had successfully quelled her laughter, she started feeling it again. Gas … or bubbles … or butterflies teeming in her stomach?

Or…

OR…

OR!

Anna outwardly gasped. One hand immediately shot to her abdomen and the other covered her mouth.

Elsa and Kristoff both looked at her curiously, both cocking their head in the exact same way.

“Oh my God it’s happening!” Anna squealed, bouncing up and down so frantically that her mulled wine kept spilling over the cup.

They continued to look at her, confused as ever.

Both her hands rested on her stomach now. “It feels like… all of Elsa’s ice fireworks are going off in here!”

Now Kristoff and Elsa understood. Their eyes widened, they audibly gasped.

Still bouncing, Anna giggled. “Oooh tickly!”

“Anna?!” Kristoff ventured. She beamed at him and motioned him closer. He wrapped one strong arm around her and pulled her in for a hug, other hand staying low, secretly stroking her stomach.

She whispered in his ear. “Can you feel it? Can you feel our little one? At least…I think that’s what’s happening. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I mean gassy but—not gassy…” Plus, mother’s intuition? She just knew this was it. The Quickening. Finally!

He shook his head. “I don’t feel anything. But—I think that’s normal? I can…imagine it takes a while to feel it on the—outside,” Kristoff said, still close to her, hand still firmly on her belly. “But you feel it. Anna, it’s—wow. It’s real. This is happening. I’m so—I’ve never been more—this is the happiest I’ve ever felt.” He kissed her, passionately, on the lips.

“Me too,” Anna said as she pulled away, looking longingly into his fiery brown eyes. Another little flutter resonated through her and she giggled. Pressing her hand and thus Kristoff’s hand deeper into her stomach. “I wish you could feel it.”

“Someday.” He kissed her again.

“Screw the troll idea. You were right. This is so cool. Totally worth the lutefisk cravings.” Their laughter was interrupted by Elsa’s hands looping over both of their shoulders, hugging them tightly. Excitedly.

“Kristoff, Anna! Congratulations. Both of you.”

“Aww, thanks, sister,” Anna said, chuckling into her smile. Noting that Elsa’s cheeks seemed markedly more flushed and she wondered if the mulled wine had already gotten to her. “Wait.” Anna started bouncing again. So enthusiastically that neither Elsa nor Kristoff could keep holding onto her. “This means we can tell people! Oh my gosh can we tell them tonight? Can we, can we, can we?”

“How about right now?”

“Right now?” Anna’s voice cracked. “Right now right now?”

“Let’s go.” Kristoff held out his hand and Anna grabbed it quickly, forcefully. With all the intent in the whole world.

They raced to the small stage where the choir and the band performed. Their royal presence was enough to stop the singing mid-phrase, choir members bowing at attention.

“You don’t need to do that,” Anna said. “Your singing is beautiful, by the way. Thank you for being here. Uh—we just wanted to make an announcement. If that’s okay, of course. We can wait!” Somehow, Anna’s extreme giddiness was still manifesting as a constant and consistent bounce.

The choir singers looked at each other with what Anna perceived as knowing glances, and then nodded for the King and Queen to proceed.

They took center stage, Anna still bouncing, hand-in-hand. “Uh—hello, Arendelle! We wanted to take the time to thank you all for coming to the annual Christmas Ball. We hope you’re enjoying the food and the music and the holiday merriment! We are so happy this has become a tradition, and if I do say so myself, this might be the best ball yet. And not only because of—well, the ball… as of well—tonight, actually, Kristoff and I can finally announce that …” Anna took a moment to scan the crowd of eager faces. Maybe there were more than four who had no idea. “We’re having a baby!” Anna squealed and then screamed, raising her arm and thus also Kristoff’s arm into the air. Kristoff had also let out a few cheers. The crowd applauded, reaching a steady crescendo just as Kristoff picked Anna up and spun her around, giddily laughing, before bringing her face into his hands for a tender kiss. He then dropped to his knees in front of his wife, leaning in slightly, large hands now cupping her belly. Showing off her belly. Celebrating her belly. No more hiding. Just like Anna had wanted. He planted a tender kiss on the curve and the crowd cheered once again. Anna’s hands found their way into his hair and she ruffled it a bit, messing it up in a way she found exceedingly adorable. She turned back to the crowd, Kristoff still rubbing her belly in elation. “Baby Bjorgman is coming at the end of May!” Now Anna noticed a small corner of the crowd exchanging pieces of gold. Of course there had been some bets going on. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Kristoff stood up, kissed Anna once more, and then grabbed her hand, interlacing her fingers with his own. Anna took her other hand and cupped her belly, showing the crowd in more detail exactly how far along she was. Exactly. No mind games from any extra clothing. The buttons on her dress were still close to breaking loose. “Oh, and another thing! Maternity corsets are for the birds. It can’t be healthy to wear them all… tight and constricting and—” Without knowing how to control it, Anna shuddered a bit. So happy to be free. And safe. “Besides—let it all hang out, baby!” She did a little dance right then, shaking her rump and rubbing her belly. Laughter echoed throughout the crowd and then a whole conversation stirred. Anna hoped it wasn’t too judgmental… she didn’t want them to think she had taken anything too far.

But no matter. Kristoff was right. As Queen, she could make some rules. She could set some expectations. Even if not well received in the beginning, they could still hold weight.

Kristoff leaned in to whisper in Anna’s ear. “No more secrets.”

She smiled. Thank God. “Shall we celebrate?”

He nodded. “Let’s dance.”

The choir started singing again. The band joined in. The Holly and The Ivy, a Christmas classic. Merriment abound. Merriment all around. Although Kristoff and Anna took the lead, dancing alone for a few minutes, eventually more and more guests joined in. A little bit of Hallingdansen, a lot bit of pols, and the most bit of Kristoff taking advantage of the fact that the whole kingdom knew how overjoyed they were with the news of their growing family by essentially hardcore smooching in the middle of the dance floor. Their tongues had a good time dancing the Halling, too, and they paid absolutely no mind to the fact that all eyes were on them. Maybe the mulled wine was getting to them, too, or perhaps it was simply euphoria. Between the kisses, Kristoff frequently dropped to his knees to kiss Anna’s stomach or rub excited circles over the curves during the dances. Anna giggled each time, noticing that the flutters seemed to come in more enthusiastic waves when Kristoff’s hands or lips came in contact with her belly.

This felt good. To finally have the freedom to really celebrate. True bliss. True happiness. The best of all the past Christmas Balls. And they had a feeling no future ball could ever compare.

[thevintagebluebird]

Unpinned - Seared Fish with Creamed Kale and Leeks

Hello everyone - it’s been a minute. And Allan has been frequently playing NPR podcasts out loud. So hey! Welcome to the end of the longest winter ever to exist! We made it! I lost my energy to cook for a while there but I’m slowly getting back into it, usually sans instructions - I also subscribed to the NY Times and so now y’all are getting a newspaper recipe. We’re full adulting now. Buckle up.

Seared Fish with Creamed Kale and Leeks! Ah crap, I’ve just realize this is two NY Times recipes in a row. I promise the next one will be a handwritten recipe straight from my grandma. She just bought me a new safety mandolin and things are about to get LIT in my kitchen as a result. Safely. Anyway.

Verdict: Is the Pintrest photo complete bullshit? Yes. But to be fair, this was a complete struggle meal for me that I did not adequately prepare for and I used freakin’ frozen cod so like what did I expect.

Is it crazy expensive/time consuming/confusing? I classify the NY Times recipes as ‘intermediate’; I found this to have what felt like more steps than necessary, and took a while. It wasn’t too expensive except that kale and leeks are on my shopping list maybe once every five years, and non-frozen fish would’ve been well worth the money.

Does it taste good? YEAH. Way better than it had any right to taste. You’ll understand why later.

Seared Fish with Creamed Kale and Leeks

INGREDIENTS

4 (5- to 6-ounce) Arctic char or other mild fish fillets, such as salmon

Kosher salt and black pepper

1 ½ pounds curly kale

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 large leek (about 1/2 pound), trimmed, white and pale greens quartered lengthwise then thinly sliced

6 large fresh thyme sprigs

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 cup heavy cream

1 ½ teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon chicken or vegetable stock concentrate, like Better Than Bouillion

Cooked white rice or pearl couscous, warmed, for serving

2 tablespoons olive oil

Prepare your fish: Pat the fish dry, then salt the skin side to help draw out moisture. Set on a plate and refrigerate, uncovered.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high. Prepare your kale: Pull the leaves off the stems and tear leaves into bite-size pieces. Wash vigorously, drain, then set aside.

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium. Add the leek, thyme and garlic, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring frequently, until soft, about 7 minutes.

Stir in the cream and bring to a boil over high. Continue to cook on high until thickened, about 5 minutes. Using a fine-mesh sieve set over a liquid measuring cup or small bowl, strain the sauce, pressing to extract as much liquid as possible. (You should have about 1/2 cup sauce.) Set aside the solids and return the sauce to the saucepan. Whisk in the mustard and stock concentrate, and season with salt and pepper. Cover and set aside.

Discard the thyme sprigs and stir the cooked leek mixture into cooked rice, if desired. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Once the sauce is done, blanch the kale in the boiling water until just wilted, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a colander to drain and rinse under cold water. Once cool enough to handle, squeeze out the excess liquid. Add to the strained cream, then season with salt and pepper. Cover, and warm over low, stirring occasionally.

Cook the fish: Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high. Pat the fish dry a second time, then season the skin with pepper, and the flesh with salt and pepper. Add to the hot oil, skin-side down, and cook until the skin is crispy and golden, about 3 to 4 minutes. Carefully flip the fish and cook until the outside starts to turn golden, but the thickest part of the fish is still slightly translucent, about 3 minutes.

Divide the rice (if using), creamed kale and fish among plates and serve immediately.

So here’s what you need! Sort of! You’ll notice I have store brand yellow mustard instead of dijon, coconut milk instead of cream, frozen cod instead of fresh char, no fresh thyme, and I forgot to photograph my (brown not white) rice. Like I said, this one was an unprepared-for struggle.

Our beloved, trusty, 15 year old CVS rice cooker. Hasn’t failed me yet. 

My sous chef rushing to help get the dishes unloaded so I can have some space in our new kitchen! It has counters mounted facing each other with just enough room for a Rew and an Allan to get precisely in each other’s way.

Do the ‘ol cold water dethaw on your bland fish. You couldn’t even remember to thaw the fish properly. You probably don’t deserve to be attempting a NY Times recipe. What were you thinking.

Pretend you have any idea how to make kale edible. The stem seems hard so shred the leafy bits off? The smug smile is a lie.

This kale will be edible right?! Definitely not curly, definitely not as much as the recipe called for.

Leeks! I actually LOVE leeks, I just never interacted with them growing up and don’t really understand which parts you’re supposed to chop/cook/eat and which are meant to be tossed. It’s easy with a carrot - cut off the green and eat the orange. But leeks are just ombre gradients of green then suddenly white? We eat it all? Are some parts better than others? How much is TOO much leek? Special appearance in the background by fancy chocolates from Salem.

Pardon my blurry photos, it is way past time for a new phone. They look like veggie clipped toenails. Delicious.

Ok now it’s time to share my real shame: my coconut milk had spoiled. I did not have any cream. I did not have any real milk. I frantically googled different cream replacements, NONE of which I had the ingredients for. So I made this absolute abomination. It is (forgive me): vanilla greek low-fat yogurt whipped into plain almond milk with a little bit of melted butter stirred in. It smelled like frosting gone bad.

OH WELL IN IT GOES. Things got vaguely...creamy. <eyebrow waggle>

Then it tells you to squeeze all the cream out of your beautiful leeks. Easier said than done. This process was messy and resulted in WAY less liquid than I had hoped - if I’d used real cream I would’ve just...added more. Instead I had leek-flavored vanilla greek yogurt almond juice. DO definitely save the leek bits for your rice!

Pour your pathetic amount of leek yogurt juice back into the pan and desecrate it with flippin’ yellow mustard and boullion. Push down the despair. Make sure to do this while hangry at like 9pm.

“Blanche” your kale, aka give it a day at the sauna. Boiling water for just two minutes then squeeze the ever loving heck out of it. Everything you’re cooking for this recipe ends up with tiny portions WHY.

YUM! Go mix your leek leftovers into your rice. Next time maybe just make leek leftovers and rice and skip everything else? At least this time you started the rice first, good job!

Mix the mustard yogurt juice with your wet leaves. How did all those ingredients shrink so damn much? You are so hungry.

Cook your fish. Remember at the very end you were supposed to, y’know, SEASON it. Absolute amatur hour over here.

Your warm wet leaf goo! It actually smells very good. This is my smallest saucepan, if that gives you any sense of what a tiny portion this made. Thank goodness for leeky rice.

Aaaaaaaaand plated! I told you it didn’t look anything like the Pintrest photo. It was promptly inhaled and while I know hunger is the best seasoning, Allan also agreed it was tasty despite him not liking any of the individual ingredients!

Final final verdict: I don’t have a ton of fish/seafood recipes in my repertoire, so I’m keeping this one around for now but would tackle it again with more kale and double the sauce ingredients, as well as, y’know CREAM and FRESH FISH. But for what a Frankenstein’s monster I made of it, it was pretty good! 

[delicatebluebirdruins]

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay

The Hunger Games; Catching Fire

Part One

- “I try to work out what is true and what is false”

- “I’m still not entirely convinced that I was hallucinating... the floor turning into a carpet of writhing snakes”.... nope

-- So many good quotes in this first chapter alone

- “Some walks you have to take alone”

-- I wonder who were the other Capitol rebels

-- Kat’s reaction to seeing Peeta on the screen breaks my heart

-- Poor Peeta

-- I love the imagery when Katniss says she’s going to be the Mockingjay, with her arms slightly raised as if she had wings

- Kat about the pearl holding it to her lips “It’s soothing a cool kiss from the giver himself” --- “a token it will make until I come home to you”

-- I love Katniss and Prim talking together

- Coin: want to present Gale as your new lover? Me: oi shut it

-- I always love Cinna’s sketchbook

-- I love the prep team’s interactions with Katniss... what happened to them after the series ended

- the prep team where punished because Octavia took a slice of bread

- Mrs Everdeen reading the pain on a person’s body

- I want a story about Greasy Sae

- Precious Posy... I want a story about Gale and his family like what happened to them all

- I am mad that the hummingbird room was cut in the film

- I love the bow Beetee designed for Katniss (I wonder what happened to it)

- Finnicks line being give to Effie kind of annoys me

- aww Katniss

- I love this scene for so many reasons but especially when the berries are mentioned and how they affected the different people

- I love Finnick so much

-- a big regret of mine was not being able to ask a teacher about why they were so shocked that Rue was cast as black... I was fifteen at the time  It doesn’t excuse me being quiet

But I was also a coward. I wasn’t even able to tell a teacher about the time a girl dry humped my head, I dropped something on the floor because she and her friends kept staring at me and laughing and I couldn’t look at them any longer so I had to duck down and when I did she got up and came over and I froze and well she grabbed my head and shoved her crotch onto the crown of my head whilst her friends laughed and the rest of class and teachers didn’t notice I have only told one person this story and that was last year

- Finnick Odair in his underwear

- I love Cressida and I want to know more about her

- I love the hospital scene for so many reasons

- Kat about the bombing: “I assumed, as usual, it was my presence that brought on punishment”

- I always love the fire is catching speech

- I love Katniss so much

- I wish we saw the tribute to the tributes videos

- I love Kat and Finnick having a meal together- though I still don’t understand why he wanted them to hide their knowledge of seeing Peeta

- I love Finnick and Kat “hunting” together

- The Hanging Tree: I never realised it was jabberjays in the “dead man called out to his love” and I hate the pop remix with a passion

- Katniss: “I could remember almost anything set to music after a round or two”

- Katniss speculating about the song is pretty spot on

- I dislike the kitchen kiss so much

- Peeta’s warning :(

Part 2

- I don’t know why but them in the bunker is a favourite scene of mine

- “I almost hiss at him too” it was crime they didn’t have JLaw hissing at Buttercup in the film

- First Peeta hijacking ref: “waging a sort of battle in his mind”

- and more chats with Prim

- and chats with Finnick

- I love Buttercup

- Plutarch x coffee was amusing

- “Glance at Finnick who gives a thumbs up- But he’s looking pretty shaky himself” -- my poor babies

- my poor precious Finnick- I wonder whom among Snow’s friends got poisoned one I am certain he poisoned is Lysistrata

-- I wonder what was going through Gale’s head when he volunteered

- Katniss is so giddy to see Peeta and well you know

- Prim telling of Plutarch is *chefs kiss*

-- Poor Portia and all the other stylists and prep teams

- “I can’t say Gale’s absences have inconvenience me”

-- I love Delly

-- I hate District 2 kiss because of that article written in 2018

-- Wraps Finnick and Annie in blankets and glares at Gale

-- I love Gwendoline Christie in the MJ 2 behind the scenes

-- what could be worse than what Gale said about the workers in the Nut

- I just love Boggs

- District 2 speech is also great and she quoted Peeta!

- the capitol having emergency supplies stockpiled... Me: i bet they have

- Oh Finnick and Annie’s wedding :)... Katniss: “Finnick loves Annie and that’s good enough for me”

- Katniss seeing Peeta makes me sad

- Poor Johanna and of course I love Johanna

- I love Finnick and I want to hear more about the sea turtle which stole his hat... hey is there any fanart of that scene?

- everyone was creeped out by Peeta threatening to steal Annie away from Finnick

- “everything screams in my dreams tonight” this line always chills me

- gulps “your squadron leader gets hit by a mortar” mortal being a type of bomb

- I love the pine needle sachet that Katniss makes Johanna

Part Three

- I dislike Haymitch at times and this lecture of his is one of them

- I love Jackson for coming up with Real or Not Real

- I love Mitchell trying to act

-- Looks at Cressida with huge heart eyes

- the best brotp Finnick x Peeta

- “now this place tastes like the arena”

- I love Messalla’s moment about the centre unit

- Peeta with Pollux

- “Katnisss” Me: shit x3000

- “Snow can’t tolerate looking like a fool”

- everytime Finnick’s ***** gets me and I just love my boy

- “don’t let him take you from me”

- Tigris! is in Ballad fucking fight me on this

- “my face runs into a hanging chain and I pull it”... snorts

- Jagged sutures and smear on cream vs gently rinsing and bandaging

- “I know it happened and yet it doesn’t seem real” *whimpers*

- the guy who was mistaken for Peeta :|

- Tigris and the can of salmon

- all the next events are a lotTM

- and then Prim and the medics died

-- did you know there are people who were angry at Katniss for not showing emotion after Prim died? No well there were and I don’t like them

- Snow: snake eyes again; about Prim: so wasteful

- Haymitch: “more boy trouble” Katniss: “I don’t know why, but this hurts me in a way Haymitch rarely can”-- Thoughts?

- what happened to Effie

- I still Katniss voted yes because she wanted Coin to think she was still on her side

- “Its all over when the Mockingjay sings”... “hour after hour of ballads, love songs and mountain airs”

- I love Greasy Sae

- I really want to know what was going through Peeta’s head when he decided to dig up evening primrose bushes

- “flakes of skin the size of playing cards” owie ouch ow ow nope

Bonus CF: I love Mags just wanting a nap

- poor Madge

- poor Buttercup and Katniss I just love them bonding

- growing back together is something I love... does anyone have good fic recs for growing back together?

- I love the description for toast babies so much

-- “I make a list of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do” I remember I had a very bad day and I was reading this scene and was looking at this blank notebook I had and thought why not and just have this small notebook with a few different stories of kindness in it and things I drew a picture of the blue mockingjay on it and a dandelion

- “Much worse games to play” It took me awhile to understand what this meant and I understand now

. 

.

It was kind of a ride rereading this series again especially after Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and you know what I still love this series and these characters

I don’t see Lucy Gray turning into Coin but I do see them as being related

[someguynamedstevewrites]

Unwanted House Guest: Valentine’s Run - Part 1

Based on characters created by @tamarinfrog (a.k.a. @searching-for-bananaflies , a.k.a. @cafe-cardamari , a.k.a. @bottledupcomic , a.k.a. OH MY GOD Tammy, just how many more blogs do you have!? I mean, I’m not one to talk, but...)

And the video games Splatoon, Splatoon 2, and Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion by Nintendo.

——————————

A brief primer on Unwanted House Guest:

Began this Fanfiction series back in the Fall of 2015.

Multiple entries in the series were submitted to Tammy’s blogs for posting.

Feel free to search Tammy’s blogs for “Unwanted House Guest” for previous entries in the series.

Now on with the story!

——————————

“YOU WANT HOW MUCH!?”

Arnick shouted from nearly the top of his lungs. Every Inkling and Octoling in Inkopolis Square turned to look at the small bench near the lobby entrance for Turf Wars. There, everyone saw a tall, lanky, Inkling male with purple tentacles wearing a replica hero jacket and with a Legendary Cap on his head. It was an older cap with some sewn on patches and a hole to let the Inkling’s tentacles out through the top of the hat. Upon recognizing who it was, about a third of the people turned back to minding their own business because they were rather accustomed to the ear-splitting din that Arnick Stilton was known for.

“You heard me, chum,” Murch shot back, “100,000 G! Take it or leave it.”

Arnick was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, and looking like his hat was going to pop off his head. The 21-year old Inkling had been searching for months for a very particular item. He regularly browsed through Annie’s Online Shop, checked every retail store daily since Squiddoween, and constantly asked about it from the local (shady) “gear specialist”: Murch. After going for so long without any luck, Arnick even went so far as to try and craft it himself, but couldn’t get the ability chunks necessary to finish it.

Now it was being held ransom by a puny little one-eyed street urchin.

“You have any idea how hard it was to find this thing, chum?” Murch continued with a small hint of indignity, “Spyke had to ask somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody whose cousin’s sister-in-law’s brother’s uncle happened to have one tucked away in a box at a garage sale out in Calamari County!”

“Yeah, right...” Arnick said in about a 50/50 split between disbelief and sarcasm. He grabbed his iSquid and opened up the app for his bank account. His winnings had increased since Team Toxic’s recent entrance into the highest level of professional Turf War. This was a great honor as they were now being matched up against the most experienced players; some of who had been engaging in Turf Wars for decades. But Arnick still had rent, utility bills, credit card payments, grocery expenses, and other debts that needed paying.

Doing a quick check of his bank balance, Arnick saw that he had exactly 567,902 G in the bank, but by Arnick’s calculations, only 50,000 G of that would be considered “available”. Sure, Arnick had the 100,000 G in his bank account, but if he spent it now, one or more of the payments Arnick had scheduled to go through could bounce. This would lead to a Non-Sufficient Fund (NSF) fee from the bank, and a whole new level of headache that Arnick did not want to deal with. (Especially since Tetrox gave him enough of a headache anyway. Arnick couldn’t count the number of times she’d swiped his credit cards to buy ridiculous things online).

“Hey,” Murch called up to the tall, penny-pinching grouch, “you want this or not?”

“Yes of course I want it, you pipsqueak!” Arnick said with frustration in his voice (which was nothing new), “Is there any way I can pick it up tomorrow?”

“No can do, chum,” Murch said with a shake of his head, “I’m a busy guy here and gear like this is hot stuff! If you don’t buy this, I’m going to have to trash it.”

“WHAT!? You said it yourself this thing was difficult to get, and you’re going to throw it away just like that!?” questioned Arnick.

“Look, chum, I only got so much inventory space here,” Murch said gesturing to his case sitting on the bench behind him, “I can hold this for you up until midnight tonight, but after that, this gear is gone.”

Murch then raised his solitary eyebrow as he took a peak at the precious gear in the case. “Still,” he said, “why would an uptight guy like you want this bo-“

“SSHHHHHHHHHUSH!”

Arnick hissed, almost shoving his hand over Murch’s mouth to keep him quiet. He then looked around him, cautiously, to see if anyone had seen or heard anything. Everyone in the Square was either staring at or side-eyeing Arnick, but mostly because his outbursts were giving them a scare. No matter how many times Arnick blew his top, the folks that inhabited Inkopolis Square would still jump from his outbursts. (Many of them were getting rather tired of it.)

“What was that for, chum!?” Asked an annoyed Murch.

“I don’t want anyone finding out I’m getting this, you dimwit!” Arnick pleaded.

“Why wouldn’t you-“ Murch’s single eye popped wide open as it hit him. He then slowly turned towards Arnick with a big, smug smile on his face. His eye now had a look to it as if it was saying “I see what you did there”. Arnick had seen that look before and dreaded what was coming.

“Ohhhhhh,” Murch said with a sneaky smile, “this is a gift for someone, isn’t it?”

“Your point?” Arnick snapped back, feeling rather annoyed.

“You sly sea dog!” Murch said while giving a small elbow jab to Arnick’s leg, “Don’t you worry about a thing! Your secret’s safe with me.” His gesture was meant to be a knowing jab to the ribs, but given Murch’s height, Arnick’s leg was the best he could reach.

Arnick looked left, then right, then left again. By now, the eyes of the square were no longer on him and Murch. Arnick guessed that everyone was likely thinking: “OH MY COD! WHAT WA- Oh it’s just Arnick! False Alarm!” before going back to whatever it was they were doing. (He was right too.) In a quiet voice, Arnick responded with, “It had better be safe, or so help me, if this gets out...”

“Relax, chum!” Murch said with a smile, “all I need is that 100,000 G and you won’t hear a peep out of me!”

Arnick growled to himself. He absolutely hated the idea of having an overdraft fee affecting his credit score. But at the same time, he had been searching for this gear for so long that he just couldn’t let it slip through his fingers. His mind raced through possible solutions when suddenly the hour changed and the new Turf War maps were announced by Inkopolis’ latest shining stars: Off the Hook. The volume on the large Jumbo-Tron size TV in the square cranked itself up for the news segment.

“Y’all check this out!” the energetic Pygmy Inkling named Pearl called out over the airwaves, “Our sponsor Grizzco is now hiring for Salmon Runs!” She then looked over to her co-host, the Octoling named Marina, who was looking into the camera with a big smile.

“Big Money? Big Prizes? I love it!” The cheerful Octoling expertly said after reading it from the teleprompter. Arnick was certain this was an obscure reference to something. He also wagered that line was written by his old nemesis: “that guy named Steve”. Arnick recalled Steve saying something about how he was taking on some additional work responsibilities at the Turf War League the two of them bickered (and it was always bickering). Arnick didn’t have the foggiest idea what the reference was to, but he didn’t care...

...he just got a brilliant idea.

Turning to Murch, Arnick smiled unusually wide. “100,000 G by midnight!? No problem!” Arnick said confidently, “Hang on to it and I’ll be back with your money in no time.”

“Alright,” Murch nodded, “But remember, when I say midnight, I mean Midnight! If you ain’t here by 12:00 on the dot, then this...” Murch hesitated when Arnick gave him the stink eye (while still smiling, no less) to remind him to keep this under wraps, “...gear goes bye-bye.”

Arnick gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up and a toothy grin that almost sparkled. “Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back for breakfast!” Arnick said assuredly before spinning around and marching towards the Salmon Run Office.

Murch called out, “YOU DO KNOW IT WILL BE TOO LATE BY THEN, RIGHT!?”

Arnick turned around and hollered back, “IT’S A FIGURE OF SPEECH!”

To Be Continued...

[thatfairyfangirl]

Part Of That World Chapter 2

“Hey (y/n)!” Tony called out chasing you down the hall. “Didn’t I see you breaking walls to get at some water for your…” he waved his hand mimicking the way you manipulated the water “thing?” 

You laughed and nodded. “Yes...I can’t make water, just control it.”

“Hmm that’s what I thought. I’ve had a couple of ideas on that. Would you mind if I borrowed your harpoon? See if there’s something I can do about fixing that?”

“Umm sure. I’ll bring it by your shop after dinner.” As you spoke Tony tilted his head quizzically, trying to find the slits of where your gills were, until finally giving the side of your neck a little poke. 

“So where are they? How does that work?” He asked, dying to know.

You laughed again, finding the curiosity delightfully refreshing. “I can only breathe through one or the other. When they get too dry to breath through they develop this seal.” You explained stepping away. “Now if you don’t mind I smell grilled salmon...it’s my favorite and I’m starving.” You said before rushing off to the kitchen. Your steps slowed, untrusting, as you saw Bucky, his hair pulled up into a messy bun and an apron wrapped around his waist. 

He turned from the stove to see the girl that reminded him so much of his former love, your eyes looking past him. “Oh hey. I wasn’t sure if you actually eat fish or not since you kind of are one but while I was out I found some kelp noodles I figured you would like...I hope.” He watched as your eyes widened and your lips pursed in anger. You are a person, not a fish! But even worse that meant there was no salmon for you! As he spoke the light of the setting sun caught the metal of a dulled fish hook hanging from a cord around your neck. He couldn’t help chuckling at the thought. “Is that meant to be ironic?”

“I am the daughter of a fisherman. And I live in the water. What the hell did you think I ate?” Your words burst from you as your fists clenched. “And I’m not a goddamn fish!” You added, storming off.

“Hey what’s wrong?” Clint asked with a folded brow as he watched you huff past the training room. 

“Metal armed mouth breather in there is what’s wrong!” You answered with a grumble. 

“Oh geez, what happened?” Steve asked folding his arms over his broad chest.

“It seems I’m not good enough to eat the same dinner as the rest of you.” You turned to face the direction of the kitchen to scream “Stereotyping asshat” directed at Bucky, not caring if he could hear you or not.

“Oh, is this the 'does she eat fish' thing?” Clint asked as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel. “I’m sorry none of us were really sure what an Atlantean’s diet consists of.”

“Gives him no right to call me a fish.” Steve’s head hung low as you let out an exasperated sigh. “You know what...no...I’m over it...Clint, would you be so kind as to show me where I can get some decent sushi?”

“Sure, I’ll go get Nat, she would know better than me. Raw fish isn’t really my deal.” Clint agreed with a friendly smile.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your aqua blue sundress danced in the spring breeze as Nat drove you to her favorite sushi place in the city, blond and blue hair tied into a bun hiding the blue as best as possible. “By the way, have I thanked you for saving me yet? Hell you probably saved all of our asses by just acting as a translator.” Clint said with a friendly smile as he opened the door for the ladies. 

“Yeah well I am kind of awesome.” You joked as you sat down at a table. “No but really you don’t have to thank me. Last thing my people need is a war with ignorant inconsiderate mouth breathing one armed man bun wearing idiots.” Your brow scrunched and your arms folded over your chest as you spoke. 

Nat burst into laughter. “Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about one specific mouth breather and not all of us as a whole?”

“Stupid man bun and metal arm….Who does he think he is anyway! Ugrr! I can understand people making slip ups. It’s not like anyone really knows anything about us or our culture ...But he could at least have the decency to apologize!” You responded with a huff.

“Yeah he can be pretty taxing to deal with sometimes. But cut the guy some slack. Up until recently he was just a brainwashed assassin for….” He trailed off realizing telling you Bucky was former Hydra probably wouldn’t make things any better.

“You know...she reminds me of Laura when you two first met.” Nat joked as Clint let out an embarrassed grown, burying his face in his hands. “He used to piss her off so much.”

“Used to? I still do!” Clint laughed. “I remember the first day I met Laura she slapped me so hard I thought she rattled some teeth loose.” He paused to take a drink. “And right then and there I knew one day I was going to marry that woman.”

Meanwhile back at the tower

“Hey Buck what’s this I hear about you insulting the new recruit?” Steve asked as he stepped into the kitchen.

Bucky was still standing at the stove, hand in his hair as he scratched his head trying to figure out exactly what happened. “I…” He looked up to Steve. “What the hell kind of crazy woman is she?! She just went from ignoring me to verbally ripping my face off in about 2 seconds!”

“Give her a break pal! She's been living with mer people for God knows how long.” Steve said as he took a seat. “And heaven forbid a girl doesn't fall head over heels for you the second she lays eyes on you. I mean, Hydra did kill her dad...she could just be afraid of you.” He added with a chuckle. “Are you sure this doesn't have to do with Pearl?”

“No...it wasn't just lack of interest. And it wasn't fear. Fear...fear I can take, I can understand. But she just looked right through me… like I was like I was nothing.” He let out a groan of frustration. “How was I supposed to know what fish people eat? She could have just said something.”

“Yeah we probably should have asked." Steve said with a nod. "Give her time, she'll come around...everyone else did.”

“Snotty better than everyone else? I doubt it. And what the hell is with that necklace? She trying to be funny?” Bucky added as he tossed the spatula he had been holding into the sink.

“Hey, Mother Russia, would you mind not breaking the kitchen?” Tony joked as he came in for dinner. “You talking about the little mermaid?”

“Oh don’t call her that. The high-hat sure doesn’t like that one.” Bucky vented as he moved back to the stove to plate the food.

“Really? Because her room looks like Ariel’s castle.” He peered over Bucky’s shoulder, counting out the salmon. “Oh god Bucky did you really just assume she would be thrilled for those kelp noodles? I thought we agreed we needed to ask her!”

“She’s a fish!” Bucky protested stubbornly. 

“Person.” Tony and Steve corrected in unison. “And grilled salmon is apparently her favorite.” Tony added pointing to the lack of enough portions. 

“Ok, I get it.” Bucky put the plates down. “I’ll go apologize and tell her she can have my piece. I’ll go out.”

“Nah don’t bother. She went out with Clint and Nat.” Steve said with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure she was just cranky because she was hungry or something.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Later that night

You let a deep yawn slip from you as you changed into a pair of sweats for bed. With a sigh you let your hair down out of the bun for the night before venturing out to the bathroom to brush your teeth and ready yourself for bed. You moved softly and silently down the hall well aware you stayed up later than you probably should have. As the foam of the toothpaste grew in your mouth you watched the door open, surprised to find a shirtless Bucky with a towel draped over his left shoulder, as if to shield anyone who might see him from the scar of the metal meeting flesh. “Oh hey, just brushing my teeth, you mind,” he made a gesture signalling he wanted you to make room for him at the sink, but your eyes didn’t linger on him long enough for you to see. He hurt your pride today, deeply. In your culture he would be ignored until he had the guts to say he was sorry...and that was a custom you always liked to keep. Instead your eyes were focused solely on your reflection in the mirror, most specifically the fish hook that hung around your neck. “So what? You’re too good to acknowledge me now?” He asked, slightly offended by being ignored. But you did nothing, which only made his blood boil all the more. Satisfied with your dental hygiene you rinsed out and squeezed by him, doing everything in your power to avoid so much as touching him as you moved past. “Guess we’ll see how much better than us you are out of the water at training tomorrow.”  He called out as he watched you walk down the hall. You knew you shouldn’t but you just couldn’t help sticking you middle finger in the air as a response. Sure the Atlantean way was better in your opinion but you still had human instincts too.

[ovmatt-blog]

Chapter 5. The meeting with Eirene Clarine

6 a.m. – the face of my wristwatch was glowing eerily in the early-morning darkness. I was sitting on the steps of Wight Tower in the thick autumn darkness, still not believing that I had managed to return from Ireland in time. The Tower lobby behind my back was a luminous oasis, shining queerly behind the glass doors, promising warmth and shelter from the cold darkness…

At 8 a.m. sharp I was sitting in front of MAGI HR manager, staring at her. I had never seen such radiant hair, such glowing nails, and such stresses, sparkling upon her inch-long eyelids.

She smiled at me, and to my astonishment, I observed two even rows of white glistening pearls in her mouth. Deeply shocked, I could not speak a word, while she jabbered, “Cassandra is on vacation, you see, so I will deal with you instead… Well, this is your Contract and Confidentiality Agreement… Please, read it and if you have no questions, please sign here and here.” She handed a big rolled piece of parchment to me.

I flickered diagonally over the lines, wandering to the bottom of the parchment, but it unrolled and unrolled…

Witnesseth that the said Robert Lex Orion doth put himself an Intern (hereinafter Intern) to the said MAGI (hereinafter Company) to work in Management Consultancy the term of twelve months for the sum of … pounds lawful money during a probationary three months period and for the sum of …, assigns in all manner of lawful employment … beginning the 22 day of September… during which time the said Intern the said Company faithfully shall serve, the Company secrets keep, the Lawfull Commands of the Senior employees Obey, health&safety policy Adhere to. He Shall not Absent himself unlawfully from his Company Service Day or Night, with magic Artefacts, i.e. magic rods, swords… cursed artefacts, i.e. Nibelungen Gold…, Magic Creatures, i.e. Werewolves, Dragons…, bewitched Elements, i.e. Lightning, Floods … without preliminary safety training, but in all things as a Faithfull Intern he shall behave himself towards the said Company during the said Term...

… AND the said Company Best means it shall Teach and Instruct the said Intern the Art and Mystery of Magic AND doth hereby Promise and Oblige itself to provide for the said Intern the working conditions that Health and Safety Requirements Satisfy and against industrial injuries and occupational disease Guard. During the probationary period thes Employment may be terminated by either the said Company or the said Intern. …at the expiration of his term of servitude the said Company obligeth itself to pay unto the said Intern what the law allows in such cases & agreements . . . London, Isle of Dogs, 22nd Day of September…

I raised my eyes to the HR, “The wording is a bit odd … And September 22nd was yesterday…”

“Oh, never mind, the HR assistant is accustomed to the old-fashioned formulae! No wonder, as she has been working here for centuries! And the contract was prepared yesterday, the day of the autumnal equinox! Such an enigmatic day!” her pearls flashed at me in a wide smile.

I shuddered, recollecting the previous “enigmatic” night, and affixed my signature to the bottom of the parchment, which then rolled up by itself and faded into the air. While I was observing the phenomenon, she asked, “Whom should I put as a designated beneficiary in your life insurance policy?”

“Pardon?” I returned to reality.

“Why, the life insurance policy is issued for every MAGI employee as one of your employment benefits. So I need to put in the name of the person who would benefit from the insurance policy in case…”

“Okay, write in my grandaunt,” I snapped nervously, just wanting to be done with it, and spelled my auntie’s name out for her.

“Well, then we have finished… You will be informed about the start of your classes later on.”

“Finished? But… Well, I remember Cassandra mentioning I would be paid a relocation allowance the day I sign the Contract…”

“Cassandra said this?” She looked puzzled, “Well, according to our rules, the relocation allowance is paid with the employee’s first salary… Anyway you should wait until your bank card is issued…”

What could I say? It was a terrible blow! I hoped to get this money from MAGI as I couldn’t take anything from home, as there was nothing to take from there…

… I stood in the street under the autumn sun, recollecting the formulae of the contract… During the probationary period thes employment may be terminated by either said Company or said Intern… The wind was swirling the fallen leaves under my feet. Should I leave right now? Terminate the contract? Suddenly the tightly furled scroll appeared in the air and was suspended directly in front of my nose. And then the parchment, yellowish in hue and looking so ancient, as if it was going to turn to ashes, unfurled before my eyes and a sweet female voice sang the words, appearing line by line on the paper:

 Magic Fundamentals classes

will be held at 2 p.m.

in Conference Room 5005,

50th floor, MAGI

Best wishes,

Training Department

 I stopped, staring at the parchment in amazement and rereading the lines. The parchment hang in the air for a few more seconds and then rolled back and faded.

It was lunch time but as I was sparing each penny I decided to skip it and have a walk instead. At the appropriate time I set off for the first class, slightly dizzy with hunger…

At 1.45 p.m. I knocked on the white glass doors on the 50th floor. The receptionist smiled to me and the doors clicked open. There stood a guideboard with an arrow indicating the direction to conference room 5005. I went along the corridor until I reached the open-doored room. I entered and … who did I see? None other than rosy-cheeked Tin-Tin, swallowing the piles of double-decker sandwiches at the counter in the rear of the room! And with his mouth packed to final point, he still managed to chat with a bunch of guys!

He noticed me, waved his hand and lisped: “‘Obin, ‘ome ‘ere, ‘ere izz fee food!” “He means ‘free food,’ a blond guy with Ancient Greek statue features and perfect muscles burst out laughing. Then he stretched out his hand, “My name is Laska Valentine.”

“Laska?” my eyebrows lifted upwards.

“Yeah, shortened from Lasquar.”

“And I am Max Vitta,” a slim guy of medium height with curly chestnut-coloured hair and attentive dark eyes turned to me, holding a sandwich in his hand. His grammar was perfect and his very appearance indicated strictness. “Ernst Herbst,” introduced himself. He was the tallest of the guys with a very intelligent austere-featured face. Having noticed a bewildered expression on my face, he added, “Relax, friends call me Ernie...”

“Robin Orion,” I shook the hands of all of them and sprinted to the plate of sandwiches, cursing myself for not coming earlier. “What is the tastiest stuff here?” I nudged Tin-Tin and he started describing the ingredients with an expert air, evidently experiencing gastronomic pleasure, “Hawaiian avocado-and-mango roast beef sandwiches, Corsican rucola-and-peach chicken sandwiches, Mediterranean olive-and-lettuce salmon feta sandwiches…”

“Instead of all these sandwiches should have made Caprese,” snarled Max.

“Caprese, what’s that?” all the guys turned to him.

“It’s as simple as sliced fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and olive oil.”

“Oh…”

“As it features the colours of the Italian flag: green, white, and red, it’s one of the most popular dishes in Italy!”

“Oh, you are from Italy?” everybody became interested.

“Well, my Mum is Italian, and Dad – Norwegian,” the answer followed.

“Cool! I’ve heard about Neapolitan pizza Margherita with the same colours!” Tin-Tin got excited.

“And Farfalle with tomato, spinach and plain flavours, sold together in a mix?”

Stuffing my mouth with all of this food and flooding it with sparkling sweet beer, I looked round the room. It was a hall of generous proportions, and its white walls and ceiling were gleaming slightly. Two lines of white wooden chairs, eight in each row, their bottoms and backs upholstered with dark blue velvet, were standing in the centre of the room.

“Tin-Tin, where do you live? I need to find a place to stay until I get my first wages…”

“They haven’t paid you the relocation allowance? The same story with me and Max. Only Ernie was lucky and caught Cassandra before she left for vacation and she ordered the accounting department to pay him his money in full…”

“Yeah, it was pure luck. And in several days I managed to find and rent an apartment,” said Ernie bit a piece of chicken happily, while everyone was watching him enviously.

“Why, we live in a hostel. Do you want us to show it to you tonight?” Max smiled gently.

“Wha —? Yeah, of course!” I jumped up excitedly.

“Well then, we’ll go after the classes. Don’t worry.”

“Cheers, Max! Blimey, that’s a load off!”

“Ha-ha-ha!” unpleasant laughter startled us and made us turn around. “You guys live in a hostel? And what hole have you come to the City from?” a tall fragile girl with long pure-white hair and eyes of blue ice asked mockingly, holding her sides with laughter.

Tin-Tin’s face immediately turned red and he blurted out, “It’s not your business, herring.” The smile faded off the girl’s face and her eyes narrowed. “No one has ever dared to talk to me like this before,” she said through gritted teeth.

“There's always a first time.” Several guys standing nearby laughed at Tin-Tin’s remark.

“Do you even know who I am? If you did, you wouldn’t be so brave, dunce,” the girl’s eyes nearly iced over. The temperature dropped.

“Whoa, we're so scared,” I jumped into the conversation.

“Yeah, desperately afraid,” Ernie echoed me.

“Oh, guys, you are maybe the bodyguards of this hop-o'-my-thumb?” Iceeye jeered.

Tin-Tin blushed so deeply that he was the same colour as the tomato from the famous caprese salad, but before he could open his mouth to respond to the insult himself, Laska, who was contemplating the squabble, leaning against the wall and chewing gum, intervened, “Hey, hey! Certainly, we all want to know who the Fair Lady is. You really managed to advance our mediocre level of intelligence. The whole room just lit up the moment you spoke. So tell us your name, the girl of my dreams?”

“Jess, you did find common topics to twaddle about with these tramps?” a pale lad came on to the scene. He looked a bit dishevelled – his raised white-blond hair was standing up like wheat sprouts in a field. “Great outfit,” his eyes flit over my ripped jeans “have you bought it for handouts?”

I rushed towards him, but ran into Laska, who moved so close to the Iceeye that his face was some inches from hers, “Jess? And what is your full name?”

“I won’t tell you, a blatant dolt!” she snarled, hiding a smile, and strode away, having pushed him with her shoulder. Having followed her with my eyes I continued observing the lads and ladies entering the room, and then I almost choked, as among them was… last night’s Greeneye from the Firefly Valley! Her brow lacked a flashing jewel and her dress was a simple white tunic, but her jolly dimples, brilliant green eyes, sunny smile…

I was coughing so loudly that she cast a glance at me and then turned away without interest. Having at last cleared my throat, I asked Laska, standing next to me, “Do you know her?”

“Who?”

“That blonde in the white tunic…”

“Why… No, I see her for the first time. By the way, she is cool… but this get-together has other beauties that deserve attention!” And he winked at me as he marched off.

Meanwhile, all present were taking their seats – I had never seen so many beautiful and strange people at once. While I was pondering this, a young woman in a dark blue swishing dress of silk with a long skirt, sweeping the floor, entered the room. Her long hair, shining as gold, was arranged into a huge bulk of tight locks, curling in all directions and composing a feet high and two feet long flowing lion's mane. A deep look from her sparkling sapphire eyes met the eyes of each of the sixteen students in turn, then she smiled and said in a warbling voice, “My name is Eirene Clarine, I am a Partner at MAGI and your tutor. Let’s get acquainted… I will tell you ten facts about me and you will guess which of them are true and which are false.” The sound of her voice made the impression of little bells ringing. Meanwhile, she went on, “So, let’s start. The first fact – I panned gold in the goldfields of Greenland. Is it true?”

Tin-Tin and I exchanged smiles. What could this refined lady do in the goldfields? Apparently the rest of the students held the same viewpoint, as “no” and “it’s false” resounded all around. “Still it’s true!” laughed Eirene, “Consulting projects at gold-mining companies are quite common at MAGI. The next one – I tamed lions in the Argentinian selva.”

I glanced around. The students were exchanging panicked looks. Projects in the Argentinian selva also are quite common? Muttering and whispers swept along the rows, but nobody was hurrying to say anything aloud.

“Don’t think so long! Any guesses?” Eirene gave us a sort of inquiring look. “Yes”, “no”, “no”, “yes” – opinions were divided. “It’s false! I have never been there!” confessed Eirene and went on, “I have lived in the polar circle…” The atmosphere grew relaxed and cries “no”, “no”, “no” could be heard.

“You are wrong and it’s true!” Eirene was grinning at us, “Once I went to Salekhard on a business trip. It’s the only town within the polar circle. And as the project lasted longer than had been expected, I spent there several months... Okay, the next one, I wield a sword equally well in both hands.”

The muttering came to an abrupt end. Students looked taken aback. What is going on? What is this lady talking about? Could fencing be her hobby? I couldn’t decide what to say and said nothing.

In the reigning silence, Eirene looked at us with laughing eyes, “Okay, I’ll answer this myself – it’s true and soon you would also be able to do this!”

Hues and clamour arose and nobody in fact cared her, while she asked the next riddle, “I am the descendant of one of the MAGI founders.” Students were discussing aloud the necessity of martial arts training, while Iceeye exchanged a significant glance with her neighbour, who had tilted her head to the side, coiling a ripe-wheat lock round her finger.

Probably Eirene was in a hurry, as having not awaited for the answer, she went on, “I can speak chirptongue…”

Every head turned to her, the silence only being broken by somebody’s noisy breathing. “No, you are joking, this can’t be the truth!” exclaimed a curly-headed chap, grinning from ear to ear. Eirene smiled in reply, “You are right, I am joking. But it doesn’t mean that this doesn’t happen!”

“What does she mean?” murmur swept along the rows again. The students put their heads together, whispering their concerns in each other’s ears.

Then she asked the next riddle, “I hear what a stream babbles about…” And suddenly, something happened with me, in my imagination I travelled to the dense deciduous wood, overwhelmed with bright sunlight… The birds’ singing, entwined with the sweet melody of the little bells, filled the forest. A crystal clear stream was flowing gaily across the glade. In its purl the whispering voices were speaking about distant journeys…

“Yeah, it’s true,” my own voice said those words. Eirene looked into my eyes with her dark blue wells. I was hypnotized, fascinated… then it was gone… I glanced around. Eirene was looking to the side, “I have witnessed the fall of Rome.”

Dead silence followed this statement. A cold and slithery snake crept into my soul and the grin slid off my face. Tin-Tin stole a frightened look at me. Everyone looked scared. “Oh, guys, do you believe the tales? I am not so old,” Eirene burst out laughing, “Okay, but enough about me. Now I would like to ask all of you to state your name and tell a few words about yourself. Would you mind if we started with you?” she said to the guy sitting on the left side of the first row, who appeared to be wheat-sprouted Jess’s defender. Hastily, I found a scrap of paper and a ballpoint pen and got prepared to copy the names down as I was very bad with names.

The wheat-sprouted guy, exhaling arrogance in every syllable, started, “My name is Vlad Valdash. My family owns an ancient Castle in Rumania…” But I was staring at his neighbour. Laska was right – beautiful lasses were not in short supply here. She had a perfect oval face with an ideal straight nose, almond-shaped eyes with long eyelashes that cast a shadow on her high cheekbones, seeming to be hewn of stone, and full lips, resembling bean pods, shining-creamy in hue. I had never seen such lips and much later I learnt that she never used make-up. This was a principle of hers, and her name was – “Camilla Eel” – which she spoke in a rich voice, “my Mum is the owner of a luxury Fashion House and I …” But before she had finished the sentence, Iceeye (Laska had far-sightedly taken his place near her) introduced herself in a cold arrogant voice, “Jessamine Gevellin.”

“Gui Shantolier,” a guy spoke through his nose, looking like a French aristocrat, but of quite repellent appearance. “My father is French and my dream is to enter the Sorbonne…” Peroxide blonde with mild features, giggling at something with a stupid expression, he was whispering non-stop in her ear, squeaked her name, “Letisia Cay!” and giggled foolishly again, showing her wonderfully even teeth to a fellow to her right. This was a short pumped-up bloke with blond hair, matching his light skin, splashed with freckles, an impudent glance of innocent blue eyes and sensual full lips, that voiced, “I’m Leslie Bello and I go in for body-building…” And with his shameless eyes he had almost devoured Greeneye, who appeared to be called, “Leda Winegrain!”

But I had to divert my attention from them, as my jolly black-haired and crystal-blue-eyed neighbour said, “Diana Dankwert…” And then I focused on a plump jet-eyed and jet-haired Oriental beauty, who was flapping her arched jet black mascara’d lashes like wings. I copied down, “Guiselle Liaison,” and looked at a fellow sitting to her left. That was the curly-headed chap, who hadn’t believed Eirene. A trifle simple, he seemed to be a laid-back guy, relaxed and easy-going, a goofy grin wandering across his thin lips. He introduced himself in a slightly hoarse voice, “Sebastian Gram,” and suddenly burst into contagious laughter. Everybody stared at him, also beginning to smile… Next to him sat a tall, thin fellow, his hair so red that it seemed to be set in flames. “Melwin Medwin,” he creaked and it was Tin-Tin’s turn.

When I copied down successfully all the names, Eirene said, “Now we will glance back at history for a while… There are four departments in MAGI – Murmaiden, Axamit, Gevellin and Ironsky, named after their Founders – great Wizards and Fays – Aquilline Murmaiden, Lato Axamit, Ruby Gevellin and Irik Ironsky.” The names of the departments developed in the air, written in golden letters, and hung there, slightly quivering. Eirene went on, “Maybe some of you know that the first letters of the department names form the acronym MAGI, which is the name of our company”. The first letters of the surnames flew to front and composed the word MAGI. “There is a legend about the founders of the company, according to which they united their talents and efforts, establishing a consultancy, dealing with magic matters, which became famous due to the outstanding skills of its founders,” and she half-recited, half-sang the verses:

Bird with iron wings

Soars through the sky in rings.

Doors he never knocks,

His whizz opens locks.

 Weaver’s golden thread

Streams the river’s bed.

Looking through the ground,

He may treasures count.

 Maid with gleaming scales

Wanders under waves,

Murmurs soft to sole,

Reading mortal souls.

 Jeweller’s fine craft –

Giving stones his mind,

Searching artefacts,

Gets to mountains hearts.

 Wonder skills alliance,

Magic knowledge science.

Fair code and ethics

Made the MAGI basics.

 “As is told in the legend, Aquilline Murmaiden was a mermaid with the ability to “look into a human soul”, Lato Axamit was a golden weaver, able to find any hidden treasure, Ruby Gevellin was a famous jeweller, capable of adding magic components to gorgeous jewellery, thus endowing it with magical powers, and Irik Ironsky could turn himself into an iron bird and walk through walls... Throughout the centuries MAGI has been helping its clients to solve ticklish issues, i.e. finding lost treasures and creating magical artefacts…”

The students were sitting as quietly as mice, and all ears, while Eirene went on, “What is MAGI nowadays? Each department specializes in a specific area: Gevellin deals with magic artefacts, the Ironsky department copes with magic creatures, Axamit seeks out charmed gold and treasures, Murmaiden masters the Elements… The projects vary from taming miracle creatures to the stock-taking of magic treasures… Today you will start the five-week long Magic fundamentals course and you will pass the exam at the end of the course, which will show whether your skills suit MAGI. Then all of you will work on the projects till the New Year… You will participate in one or maybe two projects and your Seniors will estimate your performance and thus your internship will end with you being promoted to business analysts or leaving the company after the New Year…”

The statement hit like a bombshell. A sigh swept along the rows. Ignoring any reaction to her words, Eirene continued with her speech, “Now I’ll tell you about the career path at MAGI with the example of an ice-cream cake. As intern, you will mostly study on site and will be responsible for specific components of a project, such as conducting interviews and developing the knowledge of the clients' critical business issues. With your findings you will help the team identify the cause-and-effect relationships in the Client’s business.” With these words, she erected four ice-cream mountains on an invisible plate floating in the air, “pistachio flavour for Murmaiden, mango flavour for Axamit, strawberry flavour for Gevellin and bog whortleberry flavour for Ironsky.” Then she went on, “As an analyst, you will be given greater autonomy and responsibility in the projects. You will analyse clients' business issues and their performance, identifying their vulnerabilities and fragilities, as well as strengths and opportunities, and suggest solutions to problems.”

She poured pistachios, mango pieces, strawberries and bog whortleberry and vanilla syrup on each mountain. And when the sun suddenly popped up from behind the cloud and smiled through the windows, the mountains glistened in its bright rays.

Meanwhile Eirene went on, “After three years of project work, having acquired successful experience on the projects, you will be promoted to consultant. You will be challenged to take charge of complex aspects of team work – from performing profound analysis of the insights to conceptualizing solutions to cases and proposing ways to implement them.”

She topped the mountains with mint, melon, wild strawberry and black currant flavoured ice-cream and added marzipan paste to the green mountain, caramel to the yellow mountain, whipped cream to the pink mountain and liquid chocolate to the blue mountain.

“In the next three years you will be promoted to Manager, leading project. And your new challenge will be to coach and motivate project team members and guide the work of the whole team. You will sleep less and less, keeping one eye on the big picture and the other on the details. You will ensure that the project is delivered on time and within budget, while creative solutions to complex problems are developed.” She spri cashew nuts on the marzipan, waffle balls on the caramel, coconut shavings on the whipped cream, and crackers on the liquid chocolate.

“And one day you will be asked to become a Partner… What will you do then?” She paused, “You will be developing the company strategy, defining its culture and identity, with a focus on building client relationships…” She added marshmallow to cashew nuts, tangerine jam to waffle balls, fruit-paste sweets to coconut shavings and raisins to crackers. Now it was difficult to understand, whether these were icy mountains or a palace with towers and turrets in miniature.

“But that'll be a long, long ways off… So let’s return to more short-term matters. Being promoted to analyst, you will need to choose the department where you will work after the New Year. Now take your chance and, while I’m here, ask me any questions to learn more about each department. And by the way, enjoy the cake, and maybe its flavour will help you to decide what your department will be – pistachio and mint flavour with marzipan paste, cashew nuts and marshmallow for Murmaiden, mango and melon flavour with caramel, waffle balls and tangerine jam for Axamit, strawberry and wild strawberry with whipped cream, coconut shavings and fruit-paste sweets for Gevellin and bog whortleberry and black currant flavour with liquid chocolate, crackers and raisins for Ironsky…”

[gaming-rabbot]

Salmon Run and Presentation

A (not so) brief dissertation on narrative framing in video games, featuring Splatoon 2

With the holidays in full swing, I took advantage of a deal one day when I went into town, and finally got my hands on Splatoon 2. Having loved the prior game as much as I did, waiting this long to get the sequel felt almost wrong. But like many another fellow meandering corpus of conscious flesh, I am made neither of time nor money.

Finally diving in, I figured I might take this excuse to remember that I write game reviews, sometimes. You know, when the tide is high, the moon blue, and the writer slightly less depressed. I ended up scrapping my first couple drafts, however. You see, a funny thing was happening; I kept veering back into talking about Salmon Run, the new optional game mode the sequel introduces.

Also I might look at the Octo Expansion later, on its own. After I get around to it…

Look, the base game already has a lot of content to explore, and as previously stated, I am sadly corporeal, and not strung together with the metaphysical concept of time itself.

My overall thoughts, however, proved brief, so I’ll try to keep this short.

(Mild spoilers coming along.)

Gameplay wise, I think the story mode is much improved upon by handing you different weapons for certain levels which were specifically built with them in mind. Whereas the prior game left you stuck with a variant of the starter splattershot all the way through. This keeps things interesting, pushes me outside of my comfort zone, and it’s a good way to make sure players will come from a well-informed place when deciding what weapon they want for multiplayer; which, let’s face it, is the real meat of these games and where most players are going to log the most time.

I also love the way bosses are introduced with the heavy drums and rhythmic chants and the dramatic light show. It endows the moment with a fantastic sense of gravitas, and manages to hype me up every time. Then the boss will have an aspect of their design which feels a bit silly or some how rather off, keeping the overall tone heavily grounded in the toony aesthetics the series already established for itself.

Narratively, I felt rather okay about the story aspect of Story Mode. The collectible pages in the levels still have a certain amount of world building, though this time it seems more skewed toward explaining what pop culture looks like in this world, such as, an allusion to this world’s equivalent to Instagram.

Cynical as it is…

That’s definitely still interesting in its own right, though perhaps it’s less of a revelatory gut-punch as slowly piecing it together that the game takes place in the post-apocalypse of Earth itself, and the inklings copied ancient human culture.

We still got some backstory for this game’s idol duo, though. And that, I appreciate. It means Pearl and Marina still feel like a part of this world, rather than seeming obligatory for the sake of familiarity, given the first game had an idol duo as well.

Meanwhile, perhaps it is a bit obvious that Marie’s cousin, Callie, has gone rogue, and that she is the mysterious entity cracking into the radio transmissions between her and Agent 4. If I recall correctly, that was a working theory that came about with the first trailer or two. That, or she had died.

As soon as Marie says aloud she wonders where Callie has gone, I knew right away. And that’s just in the introduction.

That said, on some level, after stomaching through certain other games and such that actively lie or withhold information to force an arbitrary plot twist for plot twist sake, it feels almost nice to go back to a narrative that actually bothers to foreshadow these things. Plus, having gotten already invested in Callie as a character from the first game, I still felt motivated to see the story through to find out why she went rogue. And, loving the Squid Sisters already, there was a hope in me that she could be redeemed, or at least understood. In terms of building off the prior game’s story, Splatoon 2 is moderately decent.

Also, I mean, c’mon. The big narrative drive might be a tad predictable, but hey, this game is for kids. It’s fine.

That, I think, is something I love the most about Splatoon. Despite feeling like you’re playing in a Saturday morning cartoon, and being aimed primarily at children, it doesn’t shy away from fairly heavy subjects. Such as the aforementioned fact that the humans are all long dead and you’re basically playing paintball in the ruins of their consumerist culture.

Which brings me to what fascinates me so much about Splatoon 2: the way in which Salmon Run is framed.

You see, on the surface, Salmon Run appears to be your typical horde mode; a cooperative team (typically comprised of randoms) fights off gaggles of foes as they take turns approaching their base in waves. Pretty standard for online shooters these days, as was modernly popularized by Gears of War 2, and Halo ODST.

I say “modernly,” as the notion of fighting enemies as they approach in waves is not exactly a new concept for mechanical goals within video games. Rather, the term itself, as applied to multiplayer shooters, “horde mode,” became a point of game discussion when Gears of War 2 introduced the new game mode by that same name back in… 2008?

No, no that can’t be right. I played Gears 2 back in high school (I had worse taste back then, okay?). Which, from my perspective, was basically yesterday. That game being ten years old would mean I myself am old now, and that just can’t be. I’m hip. I’m young.

I am, to stay on theme here, fresh.

But okay, existential crises and game talk terms aside, the writing team behind Splatoon 2 probably decided to absolutely flex when it came to the narrative surrounding Salmon Run. It is one of the most gleaming examples of the nontraditional things you can do with writing in video games, to really elevate the experience.

Let me explain.

You see, narrative in video games typically falls into one of two categories: either the story sits comfortably inside of the game, utilizing it like a vehicle to arrive at the destination that is its audience’s waiting eyes and ears. Or the narrative, on some level, exists rather nebulously, primarily to provide something resembling context for why the pixels look the way they do, and why the goals are what they are.

Not to say this is a binary state of existence for game writing; narrative will of course always provide context for characters, should there be any. It’s primarily older, or retro games that give you a pamphlet or brief intro with little in the way of worrying over character motivation, and the deeper philosophical implications of the plot, etc (though not for lack of trying). These would be your classic Mario Bros. and what have you, where the actual game part of the video game is nearly all there is to explore in the overall experience.

Then you have games like Hotline Miami that purposely sets up shop right in the middle to make a meta commentary about the state of game narrative, using the ideological endpoint of violent 80’s era action and revenge-fantasy genre film as inspiration and the starting point to draw comparison between the two. It’s bizarre, and I could drone on about this topic.

But I digress.

Despite falling into that latter category, that is to say having mainly just an introduction to the narrative context so you can get on with playing the game, Salmon Run is a stellar example of how you can make every bit of that context count (even if it does require the added context of the rest of the game, sort of, which I’ll explain, trust me).

First, a (very) brief explanation of how the game itself works, for the maybe three of you who haven’t played it yet.

A team of up to four inklings (and/or octolings) have a small island out in open waters. Salmonid enemies storm the beaches from various angles in waves. Each wave also comes with (at least) one of eight unique boss variants, who all drop three golden eggs upon defeat. Players are tasked with gathering a number of said golden eggs each round, for three rounds, after which their failure or success in doing so shows slow or fast progress towards in-game rewards.

And it’s all an allegory for the poor treatment of labor/workers, utilizing the fishing industry as both an example and a thematically appropriate analogue. Yes, I’m serious.

First, Salmon Run is not available through the main doors like the other multiplayer modes. Rather, it is off to the side, down a dingy looking alley. And when you’re shown its location, either because you finally entered the Inkopolis plaza for the first time, or because the mode has entered rotation again, Marina very expressly describes it as a job.

A job you should only do if you are absolutely, desperately hard strapped for cash. You know, the sort of job you turn to if, for one reason or another, you can’t find a better one.

An aside: technically, playing Salmon Run does not automatically net you in-game currency, with which to buy things, as regular multiplayer modes do. Rather, your “pay” is a gauge you fill by playing, which comes with reward drops at certain thresholds; some randomized gacha style capsules, and one specific piece of gear which gets advertised, to incentivize playing.

The capsules themselves drop actual paychecks in the form of aforementioned currency, or meal tickets to get temporary buffs that help you progress in the multiplayer faster via one way or another. Which, hey, you know, that helps you earn more money also. Working to get “paid,” so you can get things you want, though, still works perfectly for the metaphor it creates.

When I first saw it open up for rotation, I found out you had to be at least a level four to participate. Pretty par for the course, considering it’s the same deal with the gear shops. But, again, it’s all in the presentation; Mr. Grizz does not simply say something akin to the usual “you must be this tall to ride.” He says he cannot hire inexperienced inklings such as yourself, because it’s a legal liability.

After returning with three extra levels, I was handed off to basic, on-the-job training. Which is only offered after Mr. Grizz (not ever physically present, mind you, but communicating with you via radio), the head of Grizzco, uses fairly typical hard sell rhetoric when it comes to dangerous, or otherwise undesirable work: calls you kid, talks about shaping the future and making the world a better place, refers to new hires as “fresh young talent,” says you’ll be “a part of something bigger than yourself.” You know, the usual balancing act of flattery, with just the right amount of belittlement.

Whoa, hang on, sorry; just had a bad case of deja vu from when the recruiter that worked with the ROTC back in high school tried to get me to enlist… several times… Guess he saw the hippie glasses and long hair and figured I'd be a gratifying challenge.

The fisher imagery really kicks in when you play. Which, I figure a dev team working out of Japan might have a pretty decent frame of reference for that. A boat whisks you out to sea with your team, and everyone’s given a matching uniform involving a bright orange jumper, and rubber boots and gloves. If you've ever seen the viral video of the fisherman up to his waist in water telling you not to give up, you have a rough idea. Oh, and don't forget your official Grizzco trademark hats.

It’s on the job itself where a lot of what I'm talking about comes up the most; that is to say, despite buttering you up initially, Mr. Grizz shows his true colors pretty quickly. While playing, he seems to only be concerned with egg collecting, even when his employees are actively hurting. This is established and compounded by his dialogue prior to the intermediate training level, in which informs you about the various boss fish.

Before you can do anything remotely risky, even boss salmonid training, Mr. Grizz tells you he has to go over this 338 page workplace health and safety manual with you. But, oops, the new hire boat sounds the horn as you flip to page 1, so he sends you off unprepared. “Let’s just say you’ve read it,” he tells you, insisting that learning by doing is best.

This flagrant disregard employee safety, in the name of met quotas; the fact we never see Mr. Grizz face to face, making him this vague presence that presides over you, evaluating your stressed performance with condescension; that we are not simply given the rewards as we pass thresholds to earn them, having to instead speak with another, unknown npc for our pay… It all drives toward the point so well.

The icing on the cake for me is when a match ends. You, the player, are not asked if you’d like to go back into matchmaking for another fun round of playtime. Rather, you are asked if you would like to “work another shift.”

The pieces all fit so well together. I shouldn’t be surprised that, once a theme is chosen, Splatoon can stick to it like my hand to rubber cement that one time. It has already proven it can do that much for sure. But it’s just so… funny? It’s bitterly, cynically hilarious.

Bless the individual(s) who sat in front of their keyboard, staring at the early script drafts, and asked aloud if they were really about to turn Mr. Grizz into a projection of all the worst aspects of the awful bosses they’ve had to deal with in life. The answer to that question being “yes” has led to some of my favorite writing in a video game.

All of these thoughts, as they started forming in my skull, really began to bubble when I noticed Salmon Run shifts become available during my first Splatfest.

Splatfest is, to try and put it in realistic terms, basically a huge, celebratory sporting event. Participation nets you a free commemorative t-shirt and access to a pumping concert featuring some of the hottest artists currently gracing the Inkopolis charts.

The idea, the notion, that a hip young inkling (or octoling) might miss out on one of the biggest parties of the year because they need money more than they need fun? It’s downright depressing.

It got me thinking. I looked at my fellow egg collectors. In-universe, we were a bunch of teen-to-young-adult aged denizens missing out on all the fun because we desperately needed the cash. We became stressed together, overworked together, yelled at by our boss together. But in those sweetest victories, where we’d far surpassed our quota? We celebrated together.

Spam-crouching, and mashing the taunt, something changed. I felt a greater sense of comradery with these squids and octos than I did in nearly any other coop game. And it’s all thanks to the rhetorical framing of the game mode.

It accomplishes so many things. It’s world building which wholistically immerses you in the setting. But mainly, its dedication to highly specific word choice does exactly what I mentioned earlier: it elevates the experience to one I could really sit down and think about, rather than use to while away the hours, then move on to something else. So many games make horde modes that feel inconsequential like that; it’s just for fun.

There’s nothing wrong with fun being the only mission statement for a game, or an optional mode of play. But this is exactly what I mean when I say this is the nontraditional writing games can do so much more with. And Splatoon 2 saw that opportunity, and took it. And what a fantastic example of bittersweet, cold reality, in this, a bright, colorful game meant mainly for children…

Happy Holidays, everyone!

[saizoswifey]

Congrats on 800 followers! Can I request some shigezane fluff? ^^ maybe him and MC cuddling up together just before dozing off and fluffy pillow talk and just them being so adorably in love?

Thank you so much, dear! ^^  I must admit I am a bit rusty in the fluff department...but I did manage to whip this up for you! I hope you enjoy it, and all of the Lovely Lady Date’s out there who have a newfound obsession with this cheeky lord after reading his route! 

Real Love 

{Shigezane x Reader} 

Genre: H.R. Fluff-n-stuffWord Count: 1,472A/N: Just a quick one-shot of domestic fluff, MC moving in for the first time with her new husband Shigezane! Hoping Tumblr doesn’t fuck with the layout too much but I would be a fool to hold my breath on that. 

Some had said the lake was haunted. Others said it must have been the weather that gave it such a creepy feeling. The early morning fog crept in thick and creamy, white as a specter, making you believe for a moment you had purchased a home inside one of those soup dishes your mother used to cook often when you were a child. You couldn’t quite remember which one. But in your mind's eye, you could picture its thickness and the bobs of orange and translucent white ebbing on the surface. You could taste it. The water lapped on the shore as the broth did against the side of the thick pot, and the clanking of boats against neighboring piers the ladle she entrusted into your tiny grasp; clumsy and knocking about in an attempt to stir, Like momma did. Tongue tip peeking out in concentration.

“You will make this for your husband one day, too,” she’d said. Matter-of-fact. As she often did back then.

It had seemed so far at that time. As it often did back then.

Mother. What would she say now, with this water threatening to take you from the shallow shores and swallow you whole, and you—letting it. Readily.

You, Be happy. You. treat her kindly. This is what she would say, probably. Give space.  

There was a spiritual puff of your chest as you stood in-between the creaking, old french doors; filling your lungs with one last deep breath of this looming fog. On your private strip of lakeshore you saw familiar flashes of golden sunlight accompanied by your bodies wading, naked and giggling, clutching to each other through raucous splashes and laughter, the translucent blue pearls clung to your eyelashes and cheeks before eventually dripping down your skin. The heavy hope you wouldn’t be caught by the realtor or perhaps a passing group of kids hunting for frogs under rocks with that youthful vigor and sense of adventure. The wet warmth of his grip before he tossed you under the surface, with a laugh so deep you could hear it muffled even beneath the water, was still lingering on your skin with the memory.

“I can’t tell if this is the best or the worst day of my life,” you sighed in a dramatic fashion, seemingly lost in a sea of brown boxes you turned your attention back to.

You were wearing one of his t-shirts. Swimming in it, actually. And running shorts. An outfit of convenience and comfort, not looks. Clearly.

Opened yet another box, this one also mislabeled. Though, at least it had a label at all. There were salmon pink polos and that button up you always thought he looked so dashing in but he never wore. You fumbled with the collar of it a bit, for no reason really.

“It’s a little late to be saying that now, doll,” Shigezane answered as he entered the room, arms full of boxes stacked five-high. “Besides, it’s obviously the best day. Well, night… Morning?” He set them down to reveal that cheeky grin of his.

“Easy for you to say.”

“It is,” he replied immediately, not even taking a moment to think about it. Overly…sickeningly cute, as per usual.

“I don’t know if you got the memo but we are married already, you don’t have to show off any more by carrying so much at one time. Be careful, please, the last thing we need is you hurting yourself.”

“Tch. Who do you think I am, Kojuro?”

“I’m telling him you said that,” you interjected.

“Why, I’m the pinnacle of young health and masculinity.” Shigezane flexed a bicep.

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll be sure to tell that to the EMT’s after you fall through one of these old and busted floorboards.”

“Hey. Before I forget, the back door is busted, too.”

“Wonderful. And the list keeps growing.”

That dejected reply was more than enough to have him at your side in an attempt to comfort you. Always reminding you he was too good of a man, this one.  

“What’s wrong?” He held you from behind in the most tender way, kissed once, twice, on your neck before breathing in the scent behind your ear. His nose nudged at your hairline.

“Just tired.”

“Stop for the night.” His pleading words were warm and muffled by his lips against your skin.

“I will. Just this last box—Oh,” you chuckled in half astonishment. “I would say this was unexpected but-“ you pulled up several covers of erotica, which had been tucked carefully between two V-necks in the random box of clothing.

“Hey!” It was swiped from your hands. “This isn’t even mine. Genya-“

“Oh, yes. That I believe. This coming from the man who had so much lotion in his room when I first met him I thought Buffalo Bill went to Costco.”

“I have dry skin!”

“The driest in the country by the looks of it, then. Were you filling up your bathtub?” You let outbursts of laughter bubble past your lips.

“That’s it-“ Shigezane stood up and tossed you over his shoulder.

“Hey,” you snickered into his broad back, “I wasn’t finished! I wanted to see what other goodies were in there.”

“Nope.”

You watched the boxes grow distant. Listened to the creaking of his steps. A turn. Another turn.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the bed,” he replied, and you could hear his smile.  

Only you didn’t have a bed yet. So he laid you down on top of a spread blanket on the floor. At least there were pillows, you thought. And when you looked up there were cobwebs in the corners of the old room.

“I think we need a new mattress. This one's a little stiff.”

Shigezane raked a hand through his hair. He cast his eyes to the side with a look of dissatisfaction. “Ya know, you get really unfunny when you’re tired.”

“You didn’t have to drag that ‘really’ out for so long, jerk.”

“That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard. I can’t believe you just made me listen to that,” he sighed.

“Shut up,” you tossed a pillow at him.

Or—you were about to. But he was much quicker, and before you had a chance to launch it he grabbed hold of your wrist to stop you. He didn’t let go as he laid on his side next to you. His face was hard and serious all of a sudden.

“Shige-“

“Are you happy?” he asked.

You were laying facing each other. Are you happy? The feeling of his breath puffed against your skin. He was so close. And you looked at his face and into his eyes. When you looked at him, so many memories and feelings were tripped—the easy way he talked and the low tones in his voice when he focused on something. The loose flapping of the ragtop of his jeep and the whistle of the wind. The flickering of late-night convenience store lights and the upset aching feeling in your stomach after an evening of snack binging together. The way laughter came as easily as breathing. How the man you loved looked and smelled like summer days at the beach.

“Unbelievably so,” you smiled.

He brought his lips to yours for an impassioned kiss. His tongue thrust inside to explore your mouth with fervor and he let out a tiny moan. Like warm tea, you drank in all the emotion he was pouring into you through the kiss; let it’s warmth slide down your throat and pool into your chest. You wanted so desperately to touch him but his hand still held your wrist in place, so you slid your leg precariously over his own in an attempt to feel him, to close the gap. He reacted in kind, rolling his hips up to meet you in earnest. The feel of his plush lips was making you dizzy, but through the sound of your light moans, you heard a sound of a different kind, coming from outside the large dirty window.

You broke from him, turning on your other side to take a look.

“Hey,” he pouted.

“Look,” you gasped in joyous wonder, “we have birds!”

There, on the dark gnarled branch of the tree, illuminated by the light blue glow of the early morning sunrise, was a nest. Two chirping figures bounced from inside and a mother, head ticking in several directions with almost robotic speed and precision before ducking down to meet the hungry beaks.

“Would’ya look at that.” Shigezane kissed the top of your head before hooking an arm around your waist to drag your back flush against his warm chest. He rested a cheek upon your temple and gazed out the window with you. “I guess we do.”

[the-splatoon]

This isn't technically a magical anon, but something I think would be fun: Marina losing her voice.

It is rare for Marina to get up late. Pearl had always known her as an early riser, ever when she tended to chill on the couch for a while after getting up. So when Pearl wakes up at 1pm, realizes that Marina has let her sleep in late and then fails to hear the sound of either video games, rapid typing or DJ’ing anywhere in the house, she knows something is up.

“Uh... Marina?”... Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Pearl looks around. “Marina, where are you? Reeena?”

She rushes through the rooms, first the first living room, the gaming room, the second living room, the first, second and third kitchen, the dining room, the other gaming room, the shoe storage (AKA their sound studio), the gym, the IT room... Finally, she goes to the last place she expects Marina to be that time of day.

Marina’s bedroom.

“Hey, girl? You in there?” she knocks.

No response.

Huh...”

Maybe she’d gone out? Maybe she was still asleep? No, both those options sounded rather un-Marina-like. Going off a vague idea, Pearl finally opens the door and steps inside the room.

She indeed, finds Marina, propped up in her bed.

“...”

Face strangely flushed, a wet towel draped over her shoulders, blanket drawn up all the way to her chin. Because of this, it takes Pearl a couple of moments to see the odd, blood-red rash on her best friend’s neck. 

“...Whoa, Marina, are you okay!? Wait, lemme look at tha-”

However, as Pearl attempts to storm in and get closer to Marina, the Octoling girl starts wildly waving her arms.

“....!!!” 

She rapidly shakes her head ‘no’ and opens her mouth to say something, however all that comes out is loud coughing. This alarms Pearl even more. She takes a step further into the room.

“Seriously, girl, this isn’t normal!! Just lemme check it out, okay?”

As Pearl is still saying that, Marina grabs her phone and starts typing on it. A moment later, Pearl’s pocket vibrates. She takes out her phone and reads the message Marina just sent:

[I think I caught Cytaphaga.（)´д`(）]

Another vibration. Another text.

[remember our salmon run shift the other day? one of the salmonids that got me mustve had it.]

“Aww man, Cyta? Seriously? That sucks so hard...!” 

Of course, Pearl remembered Cyta. There was that one kid in her neighborhood who got it when she was 12. It was the one time in her life she knew what it was like when someone other than her was being treated as a Biohazard. 

“Didn’t your folks have you vaccinated for that? I remember my parents making a big deal about herd immunity and crap...”

Marina started typing again on her phone.

[I entered military academy when I was 3, I have no idea *what* i am vaccinated for, if anything.]

[Are you?]

“Well, yeah. Mom kept ticking off those boxes on the calendar she had home religiously... Kept saying she wouldn’t forgive myself if anything ever scared a single tentacle on my precious head... or something.”

Hearing that, Marina voicelessly sighed.

[Thats a relief. ;_; I was scared I’d end up infecting you. orz Still, please be careful. I know vaccines can sometimes fail...]

“Relax, ‘Rina, you’re worried too much. I’ll be fine.” She gestured to emphasize what she was saying. “Just, um... Do you need anything? Soup, maybe? Some ice for your neck... A movie? Hey, I can move the TV here, then you can watch some Waveflix if you want to, and, um... What are you supposed to do when you have Cyta anyway? How’d you do it back where you grew up?”

Typing.

[Isolate carrier from society in a quarantine dome for 88 days. Provide food. In case of carrier being a loved on: Offer prayer and song at the shrine of Sirené. If carrier survives, they may rejoin society. Scars will be regarded as a symbol of warrior’s pride.]

“What the-”

For a moment Pearl couldn’t believe what she was reading. 88 days? That was more heckin’ sick than any illness could be. 

“Forget that carp! We’ve got medicine and shit around here! Hold on, I’ll go and get you something. Ah... And while I’m at it, I’ll cancel that thing we’d planned today too. So don’t worry ‘bout it, k?”

[ok.]

Pearl left the room, rushing to her family’s private pharmacy. 

Cyta, cyta... they had to have something against Cyta...

“Maybe I should ask the maid for help? Ah, nah. I’ll just booble it. That should do the trick. Hmpf, should probably call a doctor too... Better safe than sorry. Ah, right. Calling people...”

She got out her phone and started typing.

Pearl got up on her toes to place the remaining box back up on the shelf she’d gotten it from, accidentally knocking over another stack of meds in the progress... Oh well, probably wasn’t too important to keep those in order, right? Whatever.

She hurried back to Marina’s room.

“Hm... Marina said to be careful... Wonder if I should try wearing a mask or something...”

One thing was for sure. For the time being, Pearl had put herself on domestic care duty. At least until Marina was back on her feet. 

[kpopchangedme]

Hot Mess | Mark Tuan

You work at JYPE and don’t know how to read Mark Tuan, especially since that messy night… Does he truly hate your guts that much?

Protagonists: Mark Tuan & you 

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: Friends to lovers - Romance - Future Smut

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

You pour your glass of champagne down your throat like it’s water. You usually love work events like this, but not tonight. Tonight, you could kill that stupid jerk to get rid of the grin on his face.

You’re standing alone in a poorly lit corner of the reception hall, letting your eyes wander on the party crowd when they spot the early thirties tall man; he’s in a deep conversation with your boss. They must be having a blast, because they both throw their heads back to laugh aloud and people around turn to stare.

HA. HA. HA. An angry hiss escapes between your teeth.

You’re reminded of the meeting you had this afternoon and instantly, your forehead wrinkles at the memory. You had been preparing this new exciting project for the last three months. Your team appointed you to do the presentation, because you were the one behind “the big idea”. A way for your company’s boy groups to penetrate a new growth market. You presented Team A’s project to a full room, everything was going perfectly until Josh cut you off.

“Wait, is this your idea?” He asked.

“It’s my team’s idea.” You answered with confidence, but he ignored and continued.

“I don’t believe in your consumer’s truth.” He knew his interruption annoyed you and he smirked. “Your whole project is based on it and I’m not really sure it’s true to the intended target of this campaign.” Yes dickhead, that’s what a consumer’s truth is for. The room was dead silent, everybody waiting for your answer.

Josh is an asshole who graduated Harvard Business School so nobody ever doubts his capacities. He does whatever he wants in meetings and all your older colleagues eat in the palm of his tiny hand. Still, you couldn’t believe it was alright for him to interrupt your team’s project with a personal intervention like that. He had been making your professional life a living hell over personal matters for two months now.

“I believe that our team’s plan is the best to expand this brand’s recognition with international audiences.” Your gaze met with a panicked Iseul, the only other girl in the room who also happened to be in Team A.

“Hum…  Well if you say so. I think that’s a bit of a stretch.” His stupid smirk was still plastered on his face and the other men in the room began nodding in approval.

You finished your presentation in disbelief, not knowing how to answer to his blatant affront. By then it was clear you didn’t have anybody’s attention. Josh had undermined your credibility in front of your colleagues and superiors and your team’s hard work just vanished.

You snort and grab a new glass of champagne on the nearest server’s plate. Now that you’re at this cocktail party, your head is filled with great comebacks you could’ve said. Most of your colleagues are married men in their thirties, what gives them the arrogance of knowing what women and young girls want? They’re always complaining about how complicated their wives are and yet, they make decisions for young girls to buy CDs. But, you, understanding how to penetrate a new target’s market? No, it was highly improbable. The irony. You snort once more still mad.

Aggressively shoving the content of the second glass in your mouth, you stuck with the vague impression that someone’s eyeing you. Feeling a bit paranoid, you look around only to find Mark Tuan inspecting you. As usual. He’s standing in the middle of the room with two women from PR and one of GOT7’s stylists. The others all seem in deep conversation, but the tall Idol is looking straight at you with his familiar unreadable expression.

Mark’s the kind of guy who is scary good looking. But then again, all Idols from your company are, so you kind of got used to it. He’s tall and slim with long defined limbs and perfect full heart-shaped lips. He almost never speaks in front of you, even if he hung out with Youngjae and you several times.

He’s also the kind of quiet perfection that makes talkative people like you say and do a bunch of stupid shit.

You nod at him, sarcastically raising your empty glass his way; you both know he hates your guts. You spent the last two months avoiding his company, which isn’t that hard since he’s so busy. Much to Mark’s annoyance, you’re pure trouble magnet. Keep away from me then. What are you still looking at!?

The moment stretches and you worry he might come your way when he appears to excuse himself out of his conversation. Your brain already starts to plan your escape, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Hey y/n, eat this.” Youngjae smiles at you, holding a fancy looking salmon appetizer a mere centimeter away from your mouth. You savagely grunt in response. “You need to eat this or you might end up like that time at the club in Gangnam” He teases.

You can’t help but blush, remembering that time you went clubbing together and your thoughts instantly fly back in Mark Tuan’s direction.

The loud bass was making your eardrums vibrate but you didn’t mind at all, swaying your hips to the rhythm. The “young crew” of your company all went to a club together after a meal and a few bottles of Soju. Now you were dancing without a care in the world, holding tightly to your umpteenth beer. Your co-workers already knew there was no way to keep you at a table if a dance floor was near. Iseul had followed and several buttons of her dress shirt were now opened as she danced carelessly. She was usually quiet and reserved and seeing her let loose was refreshing.

You had texted Youngjae after you left the restaurant to invite him over and he said he was coming after practice but was still nowhere to be found. Damn. You watched Iseul dance in front of you with a big grin. He must see her like that tonight. The sweet singer had the biggest crush since forever but they both seemed oblivious to that fact.

The rhythm changed into a song with a stronger melody and you started singing. You couldn’t even hear your own voice so you shut your eyes to appreciate the feeling of freedom. When you opened them, Iseul was gone, probably back at the table with the rest of your colleagues.

You continued to dance alone, feeling pearls of sweat sliding down your neckline. You were wearing a nice short dress, low-cut in the back. With your hair tied in a loose bun, it made your neck looked extra sexy. It was the kind of day where you welcome the male gazes and feel especially hot and confident.

Quenching your thirst by swallowing too much of your beer in one go, you shut your eyes once more. The alcohol in your blood comfortably numbed you and your hips continued to sway mindlessly to the beat for a few minutes.

When you opened them again, you made straight eye contact with Mark Tuan. He was looking at you from across the club, leaning on the counter of the bar. His brown hair was half thrown back with some rebel strays falling on his forehead

Something about the situation made you want to go join him, but you remembered that talking was not his specialty. Being smoking hot is. So you just danced while holding his gaze.

The moment seemed to last forever; you, sexily moving and him, staring at you. Mark had that usual unreadable look. The thought of him coming here with Youngjae occurred to you, but you didn’t want to go look for him, not yet.

God that man is attractive. “Mark is even hotter in real life. The things I’d do to his face…” You once had jokingly said to a close girlfriend asking how it felt to work with GOT7. The truth was that his attractiveness mostly made you a complete mess in front of him.

His eyes were particularly dark that night, accentuating that mysterious aura you liked. His reserve always made you nervous, since you were such an open book, but at the same time it fascinated you. Mark slowly drank his beer, your eyes still locked together. He was the one that seemed captivated tonight and you wondered what it would take for him to join you.

Your hands tentatively moved on your body, still swaying in rhythm. You were drunk and shameless, definitely your best mix.

It had been months of celibacy since you moved to Korea and you were more than ready for a good time. Everything about Mark was making you aroused, especially the fact that he never seemed to notice you before.

Your fingers were still roaming your body in the raciest way. When they caressed your neck, you sensually smiled and you could swear you saw him licked his lips. Suddenly, he was gone.

What was I doing? Shit-shit-shit. You scanned the crowd, trying to locate his features in vain. You probably went too far, openly flirting and made him uncomfortable. Oops. But as embarrassing as it was… Nobody else saw that and he really wasn’t the type to tell anyone.

The loud banging of the music started to bother you and you decided to join everybody at the table. Before you could move, a hand slid on your waist and brought you closer to a stiff body. Goosebumps quickly spread all over your arms, like a rush of electricity. The alcohol made your head spin, but it could have been the excitation of feeling his breath down your neck. All around, people were grinding on each other under the colored lights. You danced against him for a few seconds, waving your hips to make him feel you

“I didn’t think you would come.” You said in your most sensual voice, trying to be heard by him over the music. His other hand caressed your bare back, sending a rush of adrenaline to your brain and you remembered where you were. “Wait, we shouldn’t. People could see you, Mark…”

“Let them.” Your heart jumped in your stomach and you suddenly felt like throwing up. It wasn’t the voice you expected, wanted to hear. It wasn’t his voice.

“What the fuck, Josh!” You screamed and tried to worm your way out of his embrace, but he held you tight against him. Ever since you met, he was trying to get in your pants in the most presumptuous and annoying ways.

“What’s wrong? You seemed to enjoy it seconds ago. I know you want it.” He half-yelled and laughed in your ear, sliding a disgusting hand down on your thigh. You searched around for help, but no stranger looked back your way.

“GET OFF!” Your own hesitation to elbow him made you angry at yourself. You were feeling bad about Josh being your senior at work and didn’t want to cause a scene.

Finally, he pulled back as suddenly as he appeared, his hands leaving your body at once. When you turned around to angrily chastise him, you froze. Mark Tuan was fisting his shirt, looking at him with mad eyes. Iseul and Youngjae were standing behind them with surprised expressions. It was clear he was the one that pulled Josh away and his disdain was very apparent.

“I think she asked you to get off.” He spoke in a very controlled tone and weirdly enough, you heard every single syllable despite the music. You knew Josh couldn’t do anything since Mark was from your label, but he turned around to face you.

“You thought I was him? Did you think he was t-” Josh stopped to talk. His eyes widened in pure shock. So much for not causing a scene, y/n. The rest of your beer was dripping from his face, slowly soaking his red shirt. A small crowd was now gathering to watch the drama unfold.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch me ever again.” You warned him before turning on your heels to make a run for the entrance. You saw Mark’s astonished face, but you needed fresh air and didn’t want to wait for Josh’s reaction.

As soon as your heels hit the pavement in front of the club, you felt better. Iseul followed a few seconds later with Youngjae and he draped your jacket on your shoulders. You held onto a streetlight and began to laugh. You were hysterical.

“Did you-you see his face?” Tears were running down your cheeks and Iseul shyly joined in, hiding her mouth with the back of her hand. “That-that fu-fucking jerk.” You continued to laugh for a minute and the singer just looked at you both in awe. Youngjae knew you were crazy, in an entertaining kind of way, but he never saw you like that.

“Can you stand alone?” He asked worried, trying to determine if you were drunk, had finally gone insane or a little bit of both.

“I’m go-gonna scrub every in-inch of my body. I can’t be-believe he touched me.” You stood up and wiped your eyes. “Oh, well. Now I’m in deep shit.” You sighed and turned to face Iseul.

“Good luck Monday.” She said with a shrug and an accomplice look. Before you knew why, you were both overwhelmed with crazy laughter again. You held your hurting ribs until you calmed down.

A throat sound caught your attention and for the first time you noticed Mark standing a few feet behind Youngjae. He had beer splattered on his t-shirt and was looking at you with a cold expression. He wasn’t finding it funny, not at all. You walked over in a wobbly way and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Why did you do that when I could’ve handled him? What if there’s a scandal?!” His head was down and the streetlights were drawing dark shadows on his face. He didn’t say anything back, still staring at you with a severe expression. “What? Do you have a hero complex?! Didn’t you think we’d both be in trouble if people get any weird ideas?” You tried to nudge his shoulder to get a reaction, but he grabbed you.

“Why were you dancing with him anyway?” He accused, clenching his jaw.

Mark’s fingers on your wrist suddenly felt like a burn and you tried to get out of his firm grip. “That guy is a creep, what were you thinking?” His voice was clear and glacial and he didn’t release your hand.

“I-I thought it…” was you. “I-I think I’m gonna throw up.”

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 22 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Thank you for being patient with our slower posting schedule. We love you so much and we’re so grateful for any feedback! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Everyone survived the Galactica runway show.  

This Chapter: Time for the afterparty! (And after-afterparty, in the case of one couple.)

***

“The Grand Hotel, please.”

“Right away ma’am.”

Katya checked her bag, just to make sure that she had the paper invitation to the Galactica afterparty that Trixie had given her. The Galactica parties were legendary and Trixie’s phone had been ringing off the hook since Pearl had announced on her twitter that the location had been booked.

Galactica had rented out the entire hotel for the party, and they had even booked a selected amount of hotel rooms for VIP guests if anyone ended up partying too hard. By the time that Katya’s taxi pulled up to the curb of the hotel, the paparazzi was there, their flashes and cameras going off again and again as they took pictures of the designers, bloggers, socialites, models and fashion editors who were arriving. Katya took a deep breath, but thankfully no one noticed her.

“Hey sugarbutt.” Trixie smiled brightly as he spotted Katya making her way towards him. She was beautiful as always, but tonight it was like she was glowing, a sight for sore eyes after Trixie had spent three days looking at angry, moody models who never smiled.

The two kissed, and Trixie held out a glass for Katya.

“It’s sparkling cider. Violet found one in the exact same shade as the champagne.” Katya smiled, thankful for the fact that she wouldn’t have to explain herself all night.

“She thinks of everything, doesn’t she?”

“It’s almost freaky.”

Katya giggled and took a small sip of her drink, before flagging down a waiter who was carrying around a tray of canapés.

“So how has your day been?” Trixie had found a bench for them to sit at, so he was now tucked into Katya’s side, occasionally getting a bite or two from the food Katya had collected along with sips of her drink which Trixie liked a lot more than the champagne he had gotten himself.

“Pretty good. One of the kids offered me a cigarette from his locker stash, and said he had more if I agreed to go on a date with him behind the bike shed. Unfortunately he was seven, so I had to confiscate everything; imagine the great romance I killed.” Katya laughed and gave Trixie one of the salmon hors d'oeuvres from her plate.

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova, destroyer of hearts.”

***

Courtney stood with Adore and Tati, telling them all about her encounter that morning with Willam. She still didn’t know quite what to make of the boy. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on the receiving end of such eager advances, but there was something a bit off about it. Courtney couldn’t exactly put her finger on it.

“I mean, the roses were really sweet, you know?” she said. “And anyone who likes Sólseturstríðsmenn has to be at least a little awesome, right?”

“Totally!” Adore enthused.

“Eh, I don’t know.” Tati sipped her cocktail. “He sounds pretty creepy to me.”

“He doesn’t feel creepy. Just a bit…” Courtney searched for the right word, but found herself at a loss. “He’s just really different from all the guys I’ve dated before. But like, considering my history, maybe that’s a good thing.”

“I’ll say! Remember we used to call you the Douche Magnet?” Adore laughed.

“Yeah, I loved that,” Courtney told her, grimacing. “And one date can’t hurt, right?”

“Carpe diem, bitch!” Adore agreed, then began waving excitedly to someone over Courtney’s shoulder. “B!”

Courtney turned to see Adore’s sister, Bianca, approaching them. She’d only met Bianca twice before, but of course she knew all about her: how she was one of the most powerful women in New York, how she took care of Adore, basically like a second mother. And how, in spite of being siblings, she was as unlike Adore as night and day.

Adore was tall and lanky, with an easy laugh and charmingly youthful demeanor. She managed to look cool with randomly thrown-together outfits and messy hair that told the world she didn’t give a fuck.

Bianca, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more of a perfectionist. Every detail of her appearance was intentional, from her elaborate updo with not a hair out of place, to the pressed seams on her perfectly tailored designer clothes, the blue dress she was wearing today fitting her like a glove, hugging every curve--another difference from Adore. As she wrapped her arm around her little sister’s waist, Courtney saw clearly just how different they looked, Bianca smaller and curvier, with rounded hips, a tiny waist, and a bigger chest than Adore’s. Much bigger, Courtney couldn’t help but notice, accentuated by her low neckline.

It wasn’t until Adore spoke next that Courtney caught herself staring, a blush rising to her cheeks as she looked up quickly to Bianca’s face, brown eyes staring directly into hers, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she smiled.

“B, you remember my friends, Tatianna…”

Tati grinned, sticking out her hand, thrilled to be meeting the famous editor-in-chief.

“Hi! Omigod, it’s such an honor to finally meet you-”

“Yeah, hi,” Bianca said, giving her a cursory pat on the shoulder, her eyes never leaving Courtney’s.

“...and Courtney.”

“Hey.” Courtney managed a smile in spite of her painfully hot cheeks, praying that she didn’t embarrass herself in front of this important woman.  

“Hi there. I hear you’re working at Galactica,” Bianca said.

“Yeah, about a month now.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.” A thrill rippled down Courtney’s spine. That was the first time anyone who meant anything had implied that what she was doing was something to be proud of. Knowing that she’d made even the slightest impression on Bianca made her feel invincible.  

“You’re in Fame’s office, right?” Bianca’s head cocked slightly to the side, and Courtney felt a little bit of that familiar dread creep into her stomach, praying that she didn’t seem anything other than grateful to be working for Miss Fame.

“Yes. I’m her second assistant.” She forced another smile.  

“In that case, I think we better get you a stronger drink,” Bianca said, with a conspiratorial wink and another flash of those dimples.

Courtney bit her lip. The light shade at her boss made her feel special, almost like they had a secret between them. Bianca was one of Fame’s best friends, but unlike Adore, she was also a work colleague. So it made sense that she had a bit more insight into the way she ran her office. Of course, if Courtney agreed too enthusiastically, there was a chance that she’d ruin this very tentative new alliance, so instead she just giggled charmingly and shook her head.

“That’s okay. I’m still technically on the clock, and I have to work tomorrow, so...better stick with this thimbleful of champagne.” She held up her glass, lashes fluttering.  

“Very responsible,” Bianca said, then turned to Adore and asked, “How is she your friend?”  

“Opposites attract?” Adore guessed.

“Humanity is a rich tapestry,” Courtney added, taking a delicate sip of her champagne as Bianca cackled gleefully.

“That it is.” She held Courtney’s gaze for a few more moments, before noticing someone nearby flagging her and sighing slightly, turning to Adore with an eye roll. “I guess I better go work the room some more. We still on for Saturday?” she asked, giving Adore another squeeze.

“If you’re paying, I’m there!” Adore agreed cheerfully, accepting a kiss on the cheek.

“Perfect.” Bianca turned back to Courtney. “Nice seeing you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Courtney said, swallowing. All this focused attention was making her feel a bit lightheaded.

“Bye kiddos, have fun. But not too much!”

“No promises!” called Adore.

“Byee,” Courtney breathed, watching her leave, a strangely wistful feeling curling in her stomach. She took another sip of her drink, wondering what it was she was feeling...she supposed it was mostly envy, which made her a bit ashamed. As much as she loved her best friend, she had to admit that right now, she couldn’t help but be jealous that she had Bianca in her life, a constant and reassuring presence supporting everything she did. After all, how different would Courtney’s life be if her brother had even a tenth of the influence or respect (or money) that Bianca had? She shook the thought out of her mind, sighing slightly. It was no use wishing for something that wasn’t possible.

She was so buried in her own thoughts that she completely missed the pointed look that Adore and Tati exchanged over her head, nodding distractedly when Tati announced that she was getting another drink.

***

The party was going well. Very well. Violet was leaning against a wall, an empty and clean champagne glass in her hand. She had nicked it from one of the party planners, the women out mingling with the party guests, the only thing singling them out the clear plastic earpieces all of them wore.

Violet was keeping an eye on Fame, her boss looking like a vision in white. On anyone else, it would have looked bridal, but Fame always managed to carry herself with grace, wisdom and dignity like an aura around her.

Violet felt a presence besides her, someone sliding in right next to her, the scent of tobacco and cedarwood catching her nose.

“Hello lovely eyes.”

“Hey,” Violet turned her head, unable to help the smile blooming on her lips, and the sense of pride that settled in the bottom of her stomach.

He leaned in for a kiss, and even though Violet hesitated for just a second, she couldn’t resist the siren call, the fact that she was in public be damned.

“Mmh-” Sutan broke their kiss, a smirk on his lips. Violet smiled, and turned her head. “You look gorgeous.”

Violet had gotten dressed in the bathroom, changing from her daytime look and into something appropriate for a night out. It had been a bit of a struggle, but she had managed, her hair twirled into a French twist that she hoped suited the soft lilac of her dress.

“I could say the same to you.” The praise was an absolute understatement, Sutan looking downright hot in a perfectly fitted suit, an ochre shirt causing his skin to practically glow.

“So-” Sutan leaned back against the wall, apparently more than content to hang out on the edge of the party, no one looking their way. “Have you had a good day?”

Viole wasn’t sure if it was good, trying to predict Fame’s mood when she was outside of the office even harder than normal, but it was Fashion Week, and that meant she could withstand any challenge.

“Yeah, and you?”

“No major emergencies.” Sutan pushed a gentle elbow into her side, and Violet could see the smile on his face. He was obviously teasing her, mischief in his eyes, but Violet also knew how fast things could go sour when models were involved, the girl who had torn a dress thankfully not one of Sutan’s hires.

“Really all we can aim for.”

Sutan chuckled, and Violet felt that heat return, her stomach doing a pleasant flop.

“Can I get you a drink?” Sutan nodded to Violet’s empty glass. She shot a quick glance at Fame, her boss completely caught up in conversation, a bright smile on her face, Patrick at her side, and Violet decided to take the chance, to actually give in to Sutan’s temptations for once.

“I’d like that.”

***

“Well, we’ve done it again!” Raja exclaimed, one arm tight around Raven’s waist as she toasted her friends.

“Cheers!” Raven cried, clinging to her fiancée as everyone clinked their glasses, her hair still smelling like the spray the makeup team always preferred.

It had taken forever to get everyone together in the bar, to take a moment with her nearest and dearest, but as Raja looked around, the hassle had been absolutely worth it.

“Cheers indeed.” Fame giggled, already adorably tipsy on champagne and adrenaline.  “Thank you so much for all of your support...”

Raja took a moment, a little afraid that Fame would start crying, finishing a collection always exhausting her, but she didn’t have to worry.

“Like we have a choice, Blondie,” Bianca joked as she joined the group, tugging lightly on Fame’s hair.

“On a personal note, I’m a little sad that no models fell off the runway or tripped on their hems where we could see them,” said Detox, earning some side-eye from his wife, Juju giving him that warning look before he quickly added, “But I’m super proud of you. Great show.”

Raja smiled, looking around at her friend’s gorgeous faces, before realizing that her brother was nowhere to be found.

Where was Sutan?

***

“Nh-” Violet bit her lip, swallowing a moan as Sutan placed a kiss against her neck, his stumble scratching her in the most delicious way.

She hadn’t seen Sutan all week, his touch just as good as she remembered it, the temptation to fall into him and disappear almost too great to withstand.

If you asked Violet how she had ended up tucked away in a dark corner on the building's patio, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to answer. Sutan had asked if she wanted to go outside, his hand in hers before she had made up her mind. There were people up there, the faint sound of chatter almost reaching her ears, but it didn’t feel like it mattered, Violet completely lost to the world.

“Ah” Violet gasped, her fingers desperately tightening, grabbing the fabric of Sutan’s jacket. “Please-”

“Mmh?”

Violet could practically feel the smirk, Sutan humming against her skin.

“Feels good?”

It felt good, very, very good.

Violet was practically in a daze, Sutan’s touch so very pleasant, but then, she felt fingers on her neck, fingertips brushing her skin as Sutan reached up, up, up.

“No-” Violet grabbed Sutan’s wrist, stopping him inches from her head. “Don’t touch my hair.”

There was still a chance she’d have to be presentable, still a risk Fame would call on her. She had reacted without thinking, Sutan looking at her, and for a minute, Violet worried if he would get mad, but then, he chuckled, his face breaking into a smile.

“Of course, lovely eyes.”

***

Pearl strolled through the party, wondering how much longer she had to walk around engaging in small talk and sipping on weak cocktails before she could leave. One of her friends had tweeted about a new club in Queens and she was hoping to check it out, but she really wanted to go home and change first.

Pearl knew she looked good in her skin tight black dress, but she knew that she’d look even better in the slutty cropped number she had at home.

She glanced at the exit.

Would Fame get upset if she left? She had made an appearance, so what more could she be expected to do?

Pearl made her way towards the door, giving the cursory smiles and waves as she went, when someone caught her eye. Adore Delano was standing with a couple of girls at a cocktail table, gazing at her longingly, cheeks immediately turning a deep red when Pearl gave her a smile in return.

When Pearl first met Adore, she’d seemed so young, and it was easy to dismiss her as a sweet kid. Sure, she flirted harmlessly with her, but nothing ever went beyond that. But the way she was eyeing her up at the moment, Pearl couldn’t help thinking what a fun little adventure she’d be. For all her bravado and tough girl front, Pearl had a sneaking suspicion that she could quite easily be reduced to a whimpering, needy mess.

She approached the group, slipping in beside Adore to say hello.

“Hi, Pearl!” Courtney said cheerfully.

“Hey, Courtney.” Pearl could feel Adore shift beside her, but decided to hold off on giving her any attention for a moment, concentrating on her friend. “People are totally obsessed with that picture of you from Monday.”

“Really?!” Courtney squealed, her eyes lighting up.

“It was cute,” Pearl said, amused by how easily excitable her young coworker was. “We should do it again some time.”

Courtney’s mouth dropped open.

“Sure!” she said.

Pearl then shifted her gaze to Adore, touching her wrist lightly.

“Hi, Adore.”

“Hiii,” Adore breathed. “Um...can I buy you a drink?”

“It’s an open bar,” Courtney pointed out, and Adore elbowed her in the ribs. Seeming to catch on to the situation, Courtney cleared her throat and grabbed the hand of their other friend, saying, “You know what? I need to go introduce Tati to...uh...Max!”

She yanked the girl away, leaving Pearl alone with Adore, fingers still lingering on her wrist.

“So, um…” Adore swallowed. “Drink?”

“I have a better idea,” Pearl said, leaning in close to say, “My friend just told me about a party in Queens, and I was gonna head there now. Wanna join?”

Adore nodded, hypnotized. She threw back the rest of her drink and slung her mini-backpack over her shoulder.

“Thanks for the invite,” she said, lashes fluttering.

Pearl grinned, telling her, “You can thank me later,” and tossing in a wink for good measure.

Adore opened her mouth, but nothing came out except the cutest little sigh. Oh yeah. She was going to be fun.

***

“Max!”

Max turned around, a plate of finger foods in hand. He spotted Courtney, the girl bouncing as she came towards him, her blonde hair now a candy floss pink.

“Hello Courtney.”

“This is my friend-” Courtney pulled someone forward, “Tatianna Santolini. She’s a model.”

Max wasn’t surprised in the least. Tatianna was the perfect height, slim, but not unhealthy, the slight muscles in her arms promising a hidden strength. Her skin was a wonderful caramel, her eyes a lovely hazel.

“Courtney!” Tatianna pushed her friend, a smile on her lips, and Max saw that her teeth checked out too, her smile bright and perfectly in place. “I’m not a model.”

“You’re not?” Max was confused, a girl that was that pretty and apparently also humble in Manhattan a rare occurrence.

“Yet!” Courtney held up a finger. “She just moved here.”

“Ah.” That made a lot more sense. “Do you have any potentials?”

“Potentials?” Tatianna looked like she didn’t understand him, and Max realised that she was really and truly not a model.

“Know what?” Max looked at her. “Let me take your picture. I know someone who’d be very interested.”

***

Adore was in absolute heaven, pressed up against Pearl on the dance floor, the crush of bodies around them forcing them to stay close. They’d taken some Molly when they arrived, and were now blissfully rolling, the electricity of the music pumping through Adore’s blood.

Pearl’s breath against her cheek felt amazing, and Adore rubbed against her, face seeking out the warmth of her neck. When they finally kissed, Adore thought she might swoon, her entire body tingling with pleasure.

“You’re so fucking hot…” Adore said, and Pearl laughed, taking Adore’s face in her hands and looking her up and down.

“Look who’s talking,” said Pearl, and Adore pressed in closer, feeling her knees start to buckle.

What little that remained of Adore’s self-control had dissolved by now, and she gripped Pearl’s waist tightly, hips rutting against her.

“I need you,” she whimpered.

Pearl smiled--a slow, lazy smirk spreading across her face like the cat that caught the canary. “Oh yeah? Then I guess we should get out of here…”

***

Fame bit her lip. Her feet ached, her dress was uncomfortable, her hairstyle hurt and even though she was tipsy, she was cold.

The only thing that made the wait bearable was the fact that Patrick was with her, both Violet and Courtney gone when Fame had felt ready to call for a car.

The Galactica party had gone well, the night living up to her expectations, but Fame was tired, and she wanted to go home.

“Uh! Taxi-” Fame held out her hand, but the yellow car went right by her, causing her to swear loudly.

Before she had realized what she was doing, her Louboutin was already off, Fame’s brain more than ready to throw the shoe after the car, but Patrick wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Patrick laughed and took the shoe from her. Fame blushed, holding onto Patrick so her stocking wouldn’t get soiled on the pavement. “We’ll get the next one.”

***

The way Adore’s breath hitched in her throat as Pearl leaned in to kiss her neck was adorable.

Adore was all puffy lips, heavy eyes and the most buttery soft skin Pearl had felt in a long time. What began as a fun little experiment--how quickly could she reduce her to a whimpering mess--quickly became an even more exciting challenge.

How long could she keep her on the edge, clawing desperately at Pearl’s shoulders, moaning in blissful agony? The way she begged shamelessly, dripping wet all over Pearl’s fingers, was so sexy that Pearl could have come herself.

“Please, please, Pearl…”

Pearl silenced her with a kiss, biting gently on her perfect upper lip, tongue teasing her mouth open.

“Careful, baby...don’t come until I say so.”

Pearl’s fingers slowed, thumb first brushing lightly against her clit, then pressing down on it, making her cry out, hips desperately rocking back onto Pearl’s hand.

“Please, oh God, please.”

“Not yet.”

Pearl smiled and twisted her fingers, working even faster.

Adore was gasping now, little tits bouncing with each breath, purple hair fanned out over the pillow, skin glistening with sweat, and it made Pearl want to lick her all over.

“Hold on, honey,” she whispered into Adore’s neck, “Just a bit longer. You can do it for me.”

Pearl laughed as Adore whined; she loved the power she had when a girl was breaking apart in her hands, even if her arm was cramping and her jaw ached from the two orgasms she had already wrung out of her. Pearl might not be a saint, but she never left a girl unsatisfied.

Adore, bless her, was not going to last much longer. She was tense and rolling her hips to meet every thrust of Pearl’s hand. Her nails raked down Pearl’s back, fingers digging into her ass, panting. As Pearl looked into her desperate, unfocused eyes, she decided to have mercy on her.

“Okay.”

Pearl curled her fingers forward, stroking her g spot, thumb rubbing her clit in vigorous circles.

Adore groaned as she came, hips pumping frantically before slumping against her, still gasping for air.

Pearl eased her fingers out, stroking her gently as she came down, finding the bruises she’d left on her neck and licking them softly.

“Good girl,” she said, chuckling against her skin, damp with sweat.

“Fuuuuuck…” Adore sighed, and Pearl laughed some more, nuzzling into her neck.

Not normally much of a cuddler, Pearl would usually leave right after fucking a girl, but there was something charming about the way Adore immediately wrapped her long arms and legs around Pearl’s body. As she tangled their limbs together, her purple hair tickling Pearl’s nose, Pearl found herself relaxing into the younger girl’s soft flannel sheets. One night wouldn’t kill her.

[rauliskafan]

Salmon Rose

Author’s Note: Happy Wednesday, one and all!!! So once again I am trying something a little bit different... my first Alfredo fic!!! Dedicated to my marvelous writing partner and all around sensational friend, @vintagemichelle91​!!! Hope you enjoy!!! 

“Are you sure this will help?”

You asked the question with a stuffed nose, looking at the lightly bearded man through red, bleary eyes. His stare, a quiet emerald, appeared kind. But you only focused on his gaze for the shortest of seconds.

“I stand by my wares,” he said in a soft, soothing voice. “Just one drop, and you’ll want to dance.”

“I doubt that,” you mumbled, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“Why would you say that?” he queried. “Dressed up as you are---”

“Please.”

You stopped him right there, waving of one hand in his face. Yes, the dress was the perfect attire for the party, a long, pink, flowing chiffon skirt flaring out from a lacy bodice accented by paths of pearls…

...how many days and nights had you spent agonizing over just the right garment for this most important night, Oakwood’s annual gala?

The celebration topped off a day where the sixth-grade marching band struggled through the parade, and every local merchant sought to boost their business with items at half price intended to keep the visitors, the curious, coming back for more. You had first seen the stranger moving between the booths as you hawked your handmade jewelry. Every bead adorning each string was carefully painted by your own hand, no two alike, and the stranger took note of the differences straight away.

“Thank you. Not everyone has such a discerning eye.”

“When you travel as much as I do, you know something is special as soon as you see it.”

He had asked which one was your favorite, and you selected the pink bracelet speckled in so many patterns of silver. He glanced at your blouse of a similar shade over your denim skirt and remarked that it suited you because the blush on your cheeks lived somewhere between salmon and rose. You felt your face flush further and cut him a deal for the bracelet.

“I didn’t mean that you should part with it.”

“Help me out here. Make it look good for the other customers.”

The man seemed reluctant as you handed the trinket over and felt a pleasant shiver when your fingers brushed against his.

“Whoever she is, I’m sure that she’s going to love it.”

“I… we’ll see. Thank you very much, Miss.”

Watching him leave, you couldn’t help but feel as if he had stepped from some other time, an era where men would wait with flowers and for permission before stealing so much as the most innocent of kisses. Definitely different, not necessarily better or worse, but a change from the man you would meet later that evening to dance the night away.

Your cheeks bordered on crimson after your man, your William kept you waiting without a partner, causing you to spin all kinds of horror stories as to what might have happened to delay his arrival…

…fears that were quashed and replaced by something far worse when you ultimately spied him in the arms of the girl who sold scarves two doors down from your shop. When you confronted him, he apologized in the flattest of tones, saying that the word exclusive had never once played a part in your conversations. That if said term crossed your mind, it was something you had constructed without his consent.

But as he laughed, he still promised you a twirl or two before the night was out.

Feeling like you were standing in a crumbling sandcastle and left stranded on the most unforgiving shoreline, you abandoned the party proper. Still wearing your finery, you ducked into the nearest pub. It was almost empty given the night save for the friendly bartender who offered you a sad smile. You tried some vodka on its own before opting for a splash of cranberry juice to lighten the blow. The bartender obliged, but the beverage did nothing to calm your heart, only caused your head to pound, and you were ready to head home on foot when the stranger crossed your line of sight.

And his hands were strong as they circled your arms and steadied your stance.

“Careful. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

“Too late.”

As soon as those words left your lips, you saw his face darken in the dim light, and he narrowed his eyes as he helped you to the nearest table. Upon releasing you from his gentle grip, he centered his elbows on the surface and asked if there was anything that he could do to help.

“Do you know any magic? Cause that’s about the only thing that’s gonna help me right now.”

Your story spilled out quickly, and for a brief instant you saw a flash of anger in his eyes before his face returned to its tranquil state.

“Well…”

That was the first time that you tried to wave him off, forgetting or not caring how kind he seemed and ready to disbelieve whatever he would say when he fished something from his breast pocket.

“What’s that? Elixir of love.”

“I haven’t cracked that formula yet. But this works wonders in a pinch.”

You rolled the tiny bottle around your hand, wondering how something so small, bordering on weightless, could do anything to chase the clouds away. But as the drinks weren’t helping and you desperately longed for an escape…

“Are you sure this will help?”

After telling him that you didn’t see waltzes or indeed any sort of dancing in your future, if ever, you unscrewed the lid and caught a whiff of what might pass for peppermint and prepared for the taste.

“Bottoms up.”

“No! Wait!”

Taking your hand, he firmly shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, blushing under his beard. “But you don’t drink it.”

“Then how does it work?” you asked.

“Here. Let me show you.”

His fingers drifted down the length of your arm. Once there, he retrieved the bottle with his free hand and dabbed the oil on your skin.

“Like this,” he gently instructed. “Apply it to the pressure point. Let it seep inside.”

Smiling, he traced a small circle into your wrist, the smell of fragrant peppermint mingling with the faint aroma of liquor hanging in the air.

“You think this is going to cure what ails me?” you skeptically asked.

“Hundreds of satisfied customers up and down the East Coast would stand by that statement,” he said, still smiling, still rubbing the salve into your skin until you sank back in your chair. Lowering your eyelids, you focused on the feel of your flesh tingling and just made out the music from the gala by now in full swing. Expecting to cry at the sound, you said nothing, felt nothing but a warm buzz working its wonders.

“Well?” he asked. “How do you feel?”

“I… I don’t know,” you honestly admitted. “Odd.”

“Good or bad?” he asked.

“Not bad,” you said, opening your eyes to find his face full of smiles, his eyes twinkling, his fingers still lining your arm. Not William… no person that you had ever loved or even met in passing made as much sense when laying hands on you, and you sighed contentedly in the wake of his touch.

“Not bad at all,” you continued. “How did you do that?”

“You did it,” he whispered. “I simply helped matters along.”

“And for that the East Coast pays you well?” you asked.

“Well enough,” he said.

“It’s worth every penny,” you said, dipping your hand into your clutch and literally finding only a few copper coins that were nowhere near the price of his powers.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

“On the house,” he said.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s enough to see you smile,” he said.

“But you need to earn a living,” you insisted.

“Some things aren’t meant to be sold. Some things…”

His voice fell away, and you lingered in his hand, liking the way his palm felt against yours, convinced that he had performed a kind of magic even if he would never own up to as much.

“Miss, you said that you hoped---”

“Hey!”

Turning quickly, you saw William entering the bar, his head titled to one side and the corners of his lips curled into a smirk.

“What do you want?” you asked, unable to feel truly angry as the aura of the oil still surrounded you.

“What are you doing with this guy?” he asked. “I said I’d get around to you.”

“Get around to me?” you challenged as you stood to meet him toe-to-toe. “And what? I was just supposed to wait?”

“Exactly,” he said. “But I find you here. Getting drunk or whatever with this loser.”

“He’s not a---”

“You know he was asking about you. Walking around the gala in that suit.”

Your eyes cut towards the stranger’s rumpled brown jacket and orange tie. Suddenly meeting him by chance and his magic came under suspicion, and you swore that you felt the oil begin to wear off as you pressed your hands to your hips.

“Is that true?” you asked. “Did you follow me here?”

“I…”

“See? He’s got nothing to say for himself.”

The stranger confirmed William’s assessment, and he buttoned his coat as he bowed his head.

“I… I only wanted to tell you that… that some things we should give away.”

“Listen to this guy,” William scoffed.

“And others we should hold onto tightly. Especially the things that took us so long to make perfect.”

Reaching into his pocket, he revealed the pink bracelet.

“I only bought it so… I hope you had a successful day. But this belongs on your wrist. And if I gave you anything of my own, the pleasure of your company was more than a fair exchange.”

With that he pushed the pink beads into your hand, and you stared at the intricate patterns, remembering the time it had taken to make each one its own little miracle. The things made perfect… you had never considered keeping them close because the world and your wares were fleeting. But now… hearing him speak…

“Nice line, pal,” William sneered. “If that’s your game, we’ll be going.”

Yanking on your arm, William started to drag you from the bar. You failed to focus on the way ahead, looking back at the stranger, wanting to at least thank him properly by name when you tripped over the hem of your skirt.

“Miss!”

His voice rang out as you crashed to the ground, the beads flying off the string and scattering into every corner. Too stunned for a second to move, you collected one pink droplet and felt the power of the oil evaporate when your arduous work was ruined in one cruel second.

“Sorry,” William muttered. “But you were the clumsy one.”

Your eyes shot towards him, your face furious even as your tongue was tied and you were ready to strike out at him when another wave of peppermint overwhelmed the room.

“Ow! What the…?”

The stranger stood beside you with an empty bottle in hand, and you stared up at him with wide eyes, looking the other way to see William rubbing his face and shedding tears without a hint of true sadness.

“That’s what he needed,” the stranger said.

“Okay. Enough now.”

The bartender escorted William out, and you resumed collecting your beads. The stranger said nothing as he aided you in your task, restringing them once every orb was freed from the shadows.

“Perfect,” he said. “May I?”

“What?” you asked.

“Your wrist,” he said. “Don’t let me end this night and not give it back to you.”

“Thank you. I… I would have missed it.”

“I know.”

“And I’m sorry that you had to give away your---”

“Miss, seeing someone happy is my treasure. I’ve lost nothing and gained so much more in return.”

Accepting his offer, you felt the beads against your skin along with his touch.

“There’s no pain when I’m near you,” you said. “How is that possible?”

“Well… the oil…”

“No. No it’s something else.”

Your eyes locked, and he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face as he glanced at your dress now dirtied by the barroom floor.

“Salmon Rose,” he whispered. “Such a special pink. I don’t think I shall ever see another color so lovely ever again.”

Something in his tone suggested that he might not be long for this town and your world. Not knowing how you would rectify that, you simply held his hand tighter and stood again, wearing the bracelet and the oils and the feel of his pulse beating near your pressure points.

“Don’t go just yet. Maybe… take a walk with me?”

“We’re not dancing?” he asked.

“Let’s see where we end up,” you said.

“Now that I’d be more than happy to do.”

Leaving the bar, you stepped back into the night air and looked up at the few stars in the sky before finding his eyes.

“You’ve done a lot for me in a little while,” you admitted.

“I’m happy to help.”

“And I don’t even know your name.”

He took a step back and shuffled his feet, looking like a little boy despite the beard, and you reached for his chin, lifting his face to yours until he finally grinned.

“It’s Alfredo. Alfredo Aldarisio.”

“I like that,” you said. “Maybe we will dance together, Mr. Aldarisio.”

Linking your arm in his, you took another step forward. Some things needed to be sold off, forgotten, relegated to the darkness. Other treasures should stay close, brought back into the light…

…and this strange man who warmed your flesh with the kindest of fires might be the greatest gift of all.

[theforgottengn]

Just Sleep, Just Dream

Characters: India, Delta, Uniform, Zulu and Jacqueline Forbes

Word Count: 2,692

Trigger Warning: Violence

Parts: X, X, X

A/N: Not too sure how I feel about this section and that’s all I have to say. Also I kinda forgot why I titled this what I did cos I’m dumb…

Summary: The gang heads to New York to track down a bank CEO suspected of running an underground gambling ring. But surprises come in all shapes and sizes. And the truth is always what you least expect it to be. Click that read more if you want.

XXXXX

The restaurant she had chosen for their little meet and greet dinner was called Maya. It was a four and a half star eatery with a menu a little more on the expensive side. And even though he did not want to start anything without Zulu there Ms. Forbes was rather forceful about things. She wouldn’t have them waiting outside for his wife no matter how close she was. So the two went inside and got a table for three. And now Uniform sat across from her as she argued with the waiter about the wine list.

“Eleven dollars for a glass of Merlot?”

“That is what the menu says, ma’am.”

“But that’s a bit too low isn’t it? Especially for finely aged wine.”

“That Merlot is 2015, ma’am. It’s not finely aged.”

“Oh, I see.”

Uniform interjected, tired of the pointless argument, and ordered for them; “We’ll have a bottle of the 2009 Merlot, then.”

The waiter nodded and wrote the order down. He then asked if they needed time to look at the rest of the menu. Uniform nodded and said that they were still waiting on someone. The waiter quickly left; obviously thankful that he didn’t have to stay there any longer.

Just as the waiter left Jacqueline tried to get down to brass tacks.

But Uniform was clearly distracted by something.

He stared at the front door; hoping to see Zulu walk through soon. If he knew her as well as he thought he did then she would most likely be rushing over. And, getting instructions from Delta, she would have dressed up for the occasion. She had to look the part of a millionaire’s wife after all.

And look the part she did.

Uniform’s mind blocked out whatever Forbes was trying to tell him when his eyes landed on Zulu. She wore a black sleeveless sheath dress with nude colored pantyhose. A gray and white striped cape draped over her shoulders. Dark red heels matched the lipstick and nail polish she wore. The rest of her makeup was clean and meticulous. Her small handbag, which was black with a silver clasp, also matched her outfit with precision. A three-tiered string of pearls draped across her neck completed the look beautifully.

Once she reached their table Uniform got up and pulled her into a long kiss.

“You are absolutely stunning,” he whispered when he finally pulled away.

“I feel idiotic, but, thank you.” she whispered back; giving his upper arm a slight squeeze.

Uniform went and pulled out the chair next to him for Zulu to sit. But she turned to their target and introduced herself with an extended hand. Jacqueline Forbes was visibly shocked and jealous. That made Zulu smile slightly.

“Zoe Monroe. A pleasure.”

After introductions were made Zulu sat down next to Uniform. Even though Delta explained his plan earlier Zulu felt like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had no business being there. No business helping Uniform do his job. But he sensed how she felt and he gave her a small reassuring back rub.

Once the waiter came back with their bottle of wine the group ordered food.

Then they finally got down to business.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat anything, Ms. Forbes,” Uniform said seriously.

“What? Whatever do you mean, Mr. Monroe?”

“Urban, please.“ he said with a smile. "And you know exactly what I mean. My wife and I seem to share a few interests with you. Ones we would like to keep secret from the public.”

Zulu played with the pearl necklace nervously. She wanted to say something that would help. But she had no idea what that would be. Her mouth decided to move without letting her mind think first.

“It would be rather scandalous if we were found cavorting in a more public establishment, don’t you think?”

“That is why you do what you do isn’t it? Why you try to remain so clandestine?” Uniform added; taking the lead from Zulu.

“I take it you did not want my advice on investing matters.”

They both nodded. Their target had her own experience in covering up true intentions so naturally she could spot when others did the same. But they hoped that she wasn’t wise enough to sense that they still had ulterior motives. And yet Jacqueline said nothing in return. She just stared at the table; running her finger along the edge of the tablecloth. After a few minutes she broke the silence with a sigh.

“Alright. I’ll take you there after our meal.”

Finally the waiter returned to take their meal order. Zulu ordered the Salmon Adobado while Uniform ordered the Tampiqueña. Forbes ordered the Lobster Shrimp Yucatan; the most expensive dish on the menu. Then she pre-ordered a dessert for each of them.

“Don’t worry about the bill,” she said when she saw their reactions.

“I’ll cover it. It’s the least I can do, after all.”

XXXXX

Golf wasn’t the only one working alone that night. India took it upon herself to break into their target’s office. She waited until only security personnel remained in the building to make her move. Frantically running to the front door she screamed for help. Her black army duffle moved as she ran; hitting against her back with each step. And sure enough, when she reached the entrance, the front security guard took her seriously.

A tall, burly, man opened the door with a concerned look on his face.

“Is something wrong, Miss?”

“Yes,” she replied anxiously. “My car broke down on the road but my cell is dead. I can’t call anyone.”

He took pity on her and let her inside the building. Explaining how it was company policy that he couldn’t let her use his cell phone to call the police or whoever. Leading her through the lobby to the information desk in the middle of the large room he apologized for what happened.

She laughed lightly and told him not to apologize.

It wasn’t his fault.

And besides he wouldn’t be conscious much longer to be at any fault.

Reaching behind her back India unzipped the right hand side pocket of her duffle. She quickly grabbed the contents from inside and hid them in her palm. There were many ways to subdue another person, despite their size, but she didn’t want to risk anything. Too many things could go wrong when utilizing a choke hold. The same went for plain old gun threats. And besides from the start of this mission she had a bad feeling that things would take a turn for the worse. She couldn’t give the situation any wiggle room.

With a quick strike she stabbed two needles into the meat of the guard’s bicep.

Pushing down on the plungers at the same time she injected 10ml of Ketamine into the man’s bloodstream. Five from each syringe. Normally, it took two minutes for the victim to be fully sedated from only 5 ml. But since her opponent was on the larger, and beefier, side she doubled the go-to five. He fell against her frame within less than a minute; chest breathing heavily.

Just like a baby.

She pulled his body behind the information desk and stripped him of his clothes.

Quickly changing into his uniform India resurfaced from underneath the desk. She stored her uniform inside the duffle bag before slinging it back over her shoulder. Then she made her way to the elevator. Once inside she hit the button for the third floor and rode up in silence.

Hey, honey, it’s me, Delta���s voice rang sweetly in her ear.

“What is it, babe?”

Just wanted to see how you were doing, that’s all.

“You sure there wasn’t something else? Remember, I know you, Del.”

Delta sighed; Okay. You got me. I just want to know what was bothering you earlier. And I thought you’d be more okay talking about it with no one else around.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Un and the others?”

Don’t try to change the subject. Besides, I’m not supposed to be there being the driver and all. It’s nothing I’m not used to anyway.

The elevator stopped on the third floor and India stepped out. Crossing the short distance into the floor she rounded a corner to the office area. In that moment she realized that she forgot to ask the others if Forbes’ office had a number on it. Or a name plate. She shrugged and assumed that it would have the latter. Most offices did.

She decided just to look around until she found it.

So what’s wrong, Indy?

“What isn’t wrong?” India replied with a light chuckle.

“I’m team leader and all but I can’t come up with a plan of action to save my life. You’re the one who helps everyone keep a cool head even though that’s my job. And even though everything has been alright so far I can’t shake the feeling that something horrible is going to happen.”

Oh. Well, just so…

Two more security guards were on the floor and were walking towards her. A brunette and a blonde, but both were on the shorter side, seemingly around five foot five. Both men were a few inches shorter than India who stood at five foot eight. The blonde man was more on the thin side than the other.

India had no doubts that she could take them both.

“Hold that thought, babe,” India said.

She bum rushed the blonde man; catching him off guard and tackling him to the ground.

He fell to the ground with thud and a look of surprise on his face. But that was all he remained awake for. India injected a syringe into the meat of his thigh as she tackled him. The Ketamine worked quickly, as it always did, but worked even quicker on the man’s thin frame. While that was going on the other security guard started to call in reinforcements.

But India was quicker than he was.

She was on her feet and in front of him before he could give the others his location. It wasn’t very hard since the two men were not a foot apart when she attacked. India kicked him in the gut as hard as she could. He stumbled back; gasping for air. She reached back into her bag to retrieve one more syringe.

No more were left.

She used the last one on the blonde man.

Shrugging to herself she had to resort to other methods. She had no other choice after all. As the brunette security guard choked and gasped for air she snuck up behind him. Wrapping her right arm around his neck and locking it in with the left; she put him into a rear naked chokehold. Quickly bringing the man to the floor she wrapped her legs around his body. Her feet crossed at the ankles resting in between the guard’s thighs. At the same time she reached her right arm over his neck and wrapped the left underneath his arm.

He tried to push her off his back but her hold was too strong.

Quickly looping her right arm around the man’s neck she caught his throat in the crook of her elbow. Her left arm remained free. But not for long. India grabbed her left bicep with her right hand. Then she placed her left hand behind the man’s neck; clenching her fingers into a fist. Flexing her right arm and pushing her fist into his neck the man promptly lost consciousness.

She slowly, and safely, guided his body to the floor.

“Okay, I’m back. What were you saying?”

That you should know that I’ll love you no matter what.

“Getting soft on me, babe?” India said with a slight laugh.

Just reminding you that’s all.

Walking through the room she searched for Forbes’ office. There was not that many on this floor so it shouldn’t have been hard to find. And there, at the very end of the hallway, was a lone corner office. The nameplate on the door read exactly what India thought it would. Maybe everything was going to be okay. Maybe she was worried for nothing.

But the numerical keypad lock on the wall might slow things down.

India slung her duffle off her back and lightly dropped it to the floor. Kneeling down she unzipped the back pocket and took out her fingerprinting dusting kit. Opening the small case she took out a jar of white fluorescent powder, a small UV light and a feather duster. She opened the jar with a small twist and lightly dabbed the duster into the powder. After knocking the excess off with a tap against the side of the jar she closed the cap. India wiped the duster over the keys lightly applying the powder. Once that was done she returned the duster and the jar to the case. She switched the UV light on and ran it over the keypad. When she was done she returned it to the case and returned the case to her duffle.

Four numbers were covered with fingerprints; sticking out from the others.

Three. Five. Seven. Nine. Hmm…

The obvious first combination to try was the normal numerical order. But it was too obvious and did not work. Next she tried the reverse order. That did not work either. And neither did five, three, seven, nine.

After a few more tries she was in. Nine, three, seven, five.

She took a deep breath as she swung the door open.

Jacqueline Forbes’ office was just like India imagined it to look. The first thing that caught her eye was the ceiling to floor window across from the door that opened to a view of the city streets. A black oak desk sat in the corner with a matching black leather office chair behind it. A tall floor lamp sat within reach of the chair. A gray area rug sat in the middle of the floor. Two identical metal chairs sat on the rug on the side of the desk opposite to the leather chair. A small Newton’s Cradle sat on the desk next to a large desk calendar. Opposite to the desk was a black metal filing cabinet. A small metal safe sat next to the filing cabinet.

India thought about searching the safe before everything else. But knowing how Ms. Forbes had made a point to keep her office so secure the safe was most likely a fake. Or would turn out to be empty upon being opened.

But she walked over to it anyway.

Kneeling down so that she was eye level with the safe she saw that there was no keypad on the front. Nor was there a combination lock or a key hole. The safe was indeed a fake to throw off potential robbers.

Rising up from the floor India moved over to the filing cabinet.

Pulling out her lock pick set once again she picked the locks on each file drawer. Flipping through the files in the first drawer she saw nothing out of the ordinary for a bank. Then she moved on to the second file drawer. Once again there was nothing odd. The same went for the third and fourth drawers.

Damn it! There has to be something!

She crossed over to the desk and looked through the drawers. Again; nothing of import. Just a few odds and ends. Such as rubber bands, a red stapler, and a few boxes of staplers. Closing the drawer she turned her attention to the calendar. The page was on the correct month with the correct number of days crossed off. But then a few sentences, rapidly scrawled in the margin in a dark red ink, caught her eye.

Find more.

A man and a woman.

Maybe a couple?

India ran out of the room as fast as her legs could take her. As she made her way back through she made a call to Delta.

“Babe, is X still with Zulu and Uniform?”

I think so. Why? Is something wrong?

“They might be in danger.”