#leaving two people as the only library staff for a week

[isfjmel-phleg]

🤐

[midnightstar16]

Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chamber Maid)

Word count: 1.2k

You had just been appointed as the chamber maid of prince Aemond. The red keep was almost always short of staff so it had not been that big of a deal to anyone but you. You hadn’t really been working long enough to be qualified as a chamber maid so at first, it came as a bit of a shock.

To your delight, being Aemond’s chamber maid didn’t require you to interact with the prince himself. At dawn, he would leave for his morning drills with Ser Criston and you’d quickly finish your work then and leave. There was never much to do in his chambers for he kept them quite organised and in place. So, in order to keep you busy, you would be assigned to look after princess Helaena’s children.

You quickly bonded with them and they too, grew fond of you. You would take them to the palace gardens or play with them in princess Helaena’s rooms and more often than not, you would find the one-eyed prince present. You’d heard uncountable stories of him, most of them about how hideous he was, how no girl in court would ever be interested him. But when you first laid eyes on him in the gardens, you realised that all those people couldn’t have been more wrong and you would catch yourself stealing glances at him whenever you could. Sometimes he’d return the eye-contact and you would quickly look away in embarrassment.

Only after two weeks of cleaning Aemond’s chambers every day, you dared to pick up a candlestick and hold it against the wall of books that was there near the prince’s bed. Each shelf was divided by genre and each book laid out alphabetically. Even though you were of low status, you’d learned how to read as a child and never stopped since.

You knew the red keep had a library but it was available to few. To have found such a treasure at hand seemed like a gift of the gods. You quickly took out a book from the bottom shelf where you hoped he wouldn’t notice. It was small enough to fit in your pocket. With your heart beating against your chest, you rushed out.

When the prince entered his chambers after sunrise, he had almost instantly seen a book missing from his collections but when he saw that it had returned to its exact place 2 days later, Aemond knew it had been you. He had been made aware of his new chambermaid that he would often find stealing glances at him whenever she was assigned to look after his sister’s kids. You didn’t look at him the way others did, with horror and disgust but with a certain awe that Aemond quickly fell for. He would start finding excuses to be near the little Targaryens, to be near you. He loved the way you would look away, your cheeks turning red, the way you would laugh and smile, the way you kept your hair in a messy braid.

Once you were sure that the prince wasn’t seeing one of his books missing, you started taking more of them right after finishing the one before. You were always more than careful with the books, treating them as if they were worth more than the most expensive diamonds in Westeros and always made sure to keep them right back.

As more days passed by, you started getting more comfortable with your new life. You were starting to like it but you knew you could never actually ever approach prince Aemond with your growing feelings for him, and it hurt like a knife in the heart.

2 months had gone by and your life was going by smoothly. You followed your morning routine and entered Aemond’s chambers to quickly change the sheets and finish up with a bit of light dusting. But just as you would every 2-3 days, you first went to the bookshelf and kept your most recent read back on its place.

You held the candlestick up high and found a book that certainly piqued your interest. You stepped on your tip-toes and tried to reach for it but failed. Each time your hand barely even touched the book. Just as you were about to give up, you saw a hand from behind you take it. For a second your heart stopped for you knew who it was. You could feel his breath on your neck and it raised every strand of hair on your skin. You turned slowly, your back now resting on the bookshelf. You had never seen Aemond so up close and he was perfect. He was wearing a loose white cotton shirt which gave him a much more homely look. It’d seemed as if he had worn his eyepatch in a hurry, as if he was scared about what you would think. You looked into his eye and he in yours and you never wanted this moment to end. But it did, perhaps a lot later than it should have but a lot earlier than you’d preferred.

Ser Criston was out of the capital for some urgent business and Aemond had stayed behind in his chambers that morning. He’d actually been looking forward to seeing you in his chambers where he could talk to you without suspicion. The prince had gone as far as to even keep your favourite foods and drink ready but now that felt like it would be too much.

“My prince, I am so sorry! I never should’ve taken-“ you were cut off abruptly.

“ ‘The Hidden Mysteries of Qarth’,” the prince read out the title, “You have good taste, little thief.” The corners of his lips turned into a small smile. You had expected him to be absolutely furious but perhaps not.

“My prince, I’m no thief. I’ve only ever borrowed your books and I always kept them back in perfect condition. I know it was wrong… but I never stole anything,” You spoke anxiously. If he wasn’t angry before, he’d probably be now, you thought to yourself. But out of all the things you had expected, you hadn’t expected him to laugh. Well, he didn’t laugh but he was grinning and it was amazing. Regardless of the consequences, you would cherish this scene till the end of your days.

“Take it,” he held the book in his hand. You hesitated; what if it was simply a test? What if he was waiting for you to take it and then punish you for taking his books without expecting any consequences? The endless thoughts ran in your head as your eyes went from the book to Aemond’s violet eye but his remained on yours.

“I won’t hurt you,” He spoke in the softest of voices, “Consider it a gift.”

You knew the blood had risen to your cheeks and made you look like a flustered fool. Finally extending your hand, you took the book from the prince, “Thank you, my prince.”

So, it seemed as though he had already known, and that your efforts to remain sly remained only as efforts.

You didn’t see Aemond in his chambers again and you’d stopped taking his books out of guilt and embarrassment but only a few days later you found a new book at your bedside and inside it a note.

It is one of my favourites, tell me what you think

You knew who it was from even though there was no note and couldn’t help but smile and melt.

[shubblelive]

— PAGES TURNED

summary : wilbur is a quiet guy, but there’s so much more to him than he shows. over swapped shifts, post it notes and paperback novels, you unravel him bit by bit.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking

pairing : musicianbur x fem!librarian! reader

pronouns : none (i think) reader is described as a “girl” and using other feminine descriptors

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, musicianbur, college!librarian! wilbur

word count : 2.6k

note : sorry this took. one million years. i had my exams and i turned 17, and then i went out of state to visit family, but i’ve had this in my drafts and i’ve been working on and off for a while. i hope you enjoy this, i’m thinking about maybe making it multi part? if people are into that? @starsyoubreaklikesugardust <333

You sincerely regret covering for your coworker. The campus library has a consistent, albeit small, staff. You work the same days every week; Monday morning, Tuesday afternoon and Thursday morning. The head librarian, Theresa, was more than willing to give you extra shifts whenever you needed. The library was where most of the richer students’ parents donated, and you were insanely lucky to get your job there. As a result of the consistent schedule, you work with two people regularly; Henry, who shares your major, and Janine, who’s one of the sweetest people you know. The rest of your coworkers, you knew exclusively through Theresa and her insistence of having staff get togethers at any opportunity.

There’s Chastity, who lives on your floor, and her girlfriend Kate. You got a front row seat to their first kiss after three months of egging them on with Janine at Henry’s 20th birthday. There are three more workers that work during the week on alternating shifts to you; Sam, the newest member of the term; Hae-Won, the only person who had worked there longer than you and Theresa; and Wilbur.

Wilbur, who was currently your new coworker as you started working five days a week. Hae-Won’s mother was sick, and Theresa had begged you to cover for them while they flew interstate to go take care of her. You’d been working at the campus library since you were a freshman, and they’d always been good to you. You had agreed, and now you were needing to rush from class to the library after every single one of your lectures. Sam, Henry and Theresa had all assured you that if you were late because of class you wouldn’t lose your job, but you felt bad leaving them with all the work.

Wilbur has barely spoken a word to you since you’d started working the same shifts. He’s not rude or angry, just quiet as far as you can tell. You like him. You both keep to yourselves, and Wilbur doesn’t snitch on you for smuggling your sandwiches out of the office when you browse the stacks during your breaks.

He doesn’t get mad at you for being late when you are, and he always puts stuff on the top shelf whenever you ask. He’s soft, and incredibly smart. You learn about him through hushed evenings in the office, both of you dead on your feet after you’ve locked the doors, neither of you wanting to leave quite yet. The low light gives his eyes an amber glow the same colour as sun as it peeks through the slats in the blinds of the office, surrounded on all four sides by large windows. The fishbowl, the kids call it when they come in on Friday afternoons. Not quite, you think. You’re both too boring to be fish, you make a joke when you hear a young boy say it. Wilbur gets a look in his eyes that he keeps for the next hour until you confront him. “Sometimes people don’t look a fish ‘cause they’re interesting,” he all-but whispers when you ask, eyes aglow and top row of teeth pulling on his bottom lip. “Sometimes they’re just pretty.”

You get to know Wilbur over campus coffees, and handmade bookmarks inspired by the paperbacks he checks out every week. Through his handwritten post-it note on the corner of the main monitor at the front desk, a stack of books with a cat perched on top, his writing slanted but mainly kept between the spines of each book. A request for a novel you’ve never heard of, but vow to search for. Theresa is the one who handles incoming books, but that’s not going to stop you from finding it yourself.

You begin to find those sticky-notes around more and more. There’s one resting on top of your backpack for you to find as you return from the bathroom. That’s a pretty skirt, the first one says. You should wear your hair like that more often, one three days later on the stack of returns he’s asked you to reshelve. There’s one a week after that forces a smile on your face. This made me think of you. It’s resting on a tiny journalist style notebook, one where you flip on the top. It’s got a quote from your favourite novel on it, and you slip the sticky note inside it gingerly, tucking it into the front pocket of your backpack. That afternoon during your lunch break, you go to the craft store instead of staying in and get yourself some post it notes. Yours are in the shape of a lemon, and when Wilbur goes into the fishbowl to grab his stuff once your shift is over, he finds one stuck to the side of his bag. Two words, ten numbers, all in your handwriting. Call me.

So he does, he calls you that very night. Despite the late time, you guys stay on the phone for nearly three hours. The next shift you two share, you tease him. “I thought you were meant to be the quiet type,” you giggle as his ears turn pink, him intentionally facing away from you to shield the smitten grin on his face as he pretends to write something on the staff calendar. “You had a lot to say the other night.”

It continues that way for a while, nightly phone calls in which you finally get to hear him talk unabashedly about the things he’s interested in. He’s in a band, he confesses shyly one night when you’re both on the verge of sleep. You don’t reply for a second, and he thinks you might have dozed off. You pipe up after a moment, voice heavy with sleep and Wilbur thinks he can’t possibly like you more. “Your first gig’s Saturday, right?” He nods, even if you can’t see him. You keep going anyway. “I’ll be there.”

He wishes you hadn’t told him, because he spends the next three days stressing. Performing always makes him a little anxious, a healthy amount of butterflies, as his friends say. But this is too much. He changes his shirt three times on Saturday night, twice because he wants you to like it, and another time because he sweated through the third one. He blames it on the intensity of the lights, when the drummer asks him if he’s okay, but they can all see the way his eyes are locked onto your frame, tucked into a little corner of the underground bar they’re playing. They play for about forty minutes, and you’re a little embarrassed to admit that you’ve never heard a single song they did.

Wilbur goes into the little backstage area after their last song, and his bandmates will swear he’s never moved so fast in his life. He’s chugging a bottle of water while trying to wrestle his guitar off his back, his glasses fogged up from the sweat covering his face. there are a few bothersome strands sticking to his cheeks, but he doesn’t care about that. He just wants to see you.

He gets to your corner and the table is empty. No, the table has things on it. Your chair is empty. There is something on the table. He reaches it and flops down into the chair you were just sitting in. A waitress brings him a glass of lemonade that you ordered for him and he gulps it down gratefully. He allows himself a few moments to bask in the post-show high. You might not be there, but that only brought his mood down slightly. He did it.

He is a little hurt that you didn’t stick around, but it’s nearing 10 and he knows you have a test on Monday. He takes another long swig of his drink, and reaches blindly for the one other object on the table; a paperback novel. It’s his favourite. He didn’t even remember telling you it was his favourite, but somehow you knew. His heart hammers inside his chest and he has to remember how to breathe for a second. He’d looked everywhere for that, even going as far as to see if he could order it online.

He flips open the cover, just to check, and he finds a scrawled message beneath the title page. Heard you were hoping to get your hands on one. I hope you enjoy. You’ll have to tell me all about it.

And he does. It takes him less than a week to read the entire book, and he comes to you on a random Thursday, eyes sparkling with a glint you’ve only ever seen that one night he was performing, and he leans over the front desk where you’re standing and before you can even process it he’s taking your head in his hands and pulling you into a firm hug. You’re not as tall, so you’re on your toes as you lean over the desk, struggling to wrap your arms around his torso as he hugs you.

And then he’s talking, loud and clear, and if the library was open people would be giving him dirty looks for how unashamedly he’s speaking to you. You revel in it. He keeps his hands enclosing yours and you lean over the desk to get as close to him as you can, wanting to absorb every single word out of his mouth. Wanting to breathe it in and keep it between your ribs.

Eventually he lets you go to go do some work, but you decide at that moment that you never want him to shut up again.

So, he doesn’t. With constant encouragement from you, Wilbur becomes more outspoken. Of course, there were the phone calls, but he was still reserved in person. He seems to take up more space over the next few weeks, unfurling slowly like an old painting, perfectly preserved with so much beauty to show once he was out in the open. It starts as small things, the way he calls out to you across the library after closing instead of approaching you to tell you softly. You’re almost in mourning, feeling like you’d lost that closeness with Wilbur that only you seem to have. The notion that once you put something out into the world it no longer belongs to you. Not that he ever did, not like that at least.

You’d feel like that and then Wilbur would do something so small, so sacred, that your heart would ache. Whispering jokes in your ear, fingers brushing yours when he passes you a book he thinks you’ll enjoy, grabbing onto both of your hands when he got so excited about something that he needed a physical tether to you to stop himself from floating away, into the air that he was now filling so wonderfully.

The others started noticing it too; Theresa mentioning to you how much more confident he seemed after he’d left the room, Sam, who brightened now that Wilbur seemed to return his enthusiasm, even the bassist of Wilbur’s band, who you ran into at a coffee shop, said he was different.

His band got another gig at a bigger bar, and of course you were invited again. This time you planned on sticking around for the whole thing, letting him wrap you in a sweaty hug once he ran off stage. “You were so good,” you gush, your breath on his ear sending shivers down his spine. His hands ghost up and down your arm, and you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. “But, Wil. Seriously, enough is enough.”

He pulls away just enough to get a clear picture of your face, shadows covering one side, the dim lighting in the venue not doing enough to take away from just how pretty you look.

“You guys need to start playing songs I know the words to.”

Your fake annoyance makes him laugh, one of the most genuine laughs you’ve ever heard from him. Warm, and thick, like caramel. Like his eyes when the two of you are huddled together in the fishbowl and he’s laughing, like there will never be enough time to spend with you. Because there isn’t.

His hands stop in their motions, and he notices your bare arms. “You’re freezing, lovely. Here.” He steps away from you and shrugs off his button up, leaving him in just a white-sleeved tee as he guides your arms in. The sleeves cover your hands and he goes as far as to roll them up delicately. His face is an inch from yours as he unwraps his hands from your wrist, and your fingers toy gently with a stray curl that bounces when you release it from your grip.

This time it’s you who takes Wilbur’s jaw in your hands, fingers running over his stubble. He’s drunk, hasn’t had a drop of alcohol the entire time, but well and truly intoxicated as he pulls you into him again, nose pressed to your hairline. “I’m so proud of you.” You mumble into his shoulder, and for a second, time is frozen.

You’re both brought out of it by rousing cheers from Wilbur’s bandmates, the guitarist and drummer both bullying Wilbur for not introducing you to them earlier. The bassist greets you warmly, and the three of them try to convince you both to go out for a drink. Wilbur’s the one who ends up ushering you out, arm around your shoulders as he placates his bandmates. Throwing a “We’ve got an early morning tomorrow at work,” over his shoulder as he steered you towards his car.

He’s only half lying. You do both have work the next day, however the library’s closed and Theresa’s hosting a party to thank everyone for their hard work. It starts at two, so you’re revelling in the fact that you get to sleep in. That doesn’t stop you from inviting Wilbur up to your apartment, though. Nor does it stop the two of you deciding to watch a movie together on the couch in your living room. It doesn’t even stop Wilbur from whispering to you while the credits roll. “You look so lovely tonight.” You flush, tearing your eyes from his face, looking down at where his hands are on your waist instead. “Can I kiss you?”

It definitely doesn’t stop you from nodding your head emphatically, your hands delving into his hair as he presses his lips to yours for the first time.

He tastes like spearmint gum and the mango of your lip gloss, his hands steadying you both and gripping onto the couch cushion. He pulls away just enough to murmur, “You’re wonderful,” and suddenly you’re so happy you’re laughing. He laughs too, taking your head in his hands until you’re kissing him again, and when he leaves nearly two hours later he’s gripping your hands so tight your breath hitches, promising he’ll see you at the party later.

And hours later, when you’re sipping on lemonade and leaning against one of the windows of the fishbowl, he sidles up to you and leans his head on top of yours. “My pretty girl.” Your hand wraps around his, and the two of you stand there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, watching your coworkers mingle. He’d never been so outward in his affections, not when surrounded by people you both worked with. He was a reserved man, preferring to let loose around his family, his bandmasters, and you. But of course, that doesn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to your hairline, the two of you inside the library office, gazing outside into the rest of the library. “So so pretty.”

[yandere-paramour]

Atalanta Headcanons Part 1

Before meeting Darling, Atalanta worked 12 hours a day, 7 days a week. She got to the office at 7:30 in the morning and stayed until about 7:30 every night. From then on, she would go home, eat, and go straight to bed. She is in the office usually on weekdays, but she does paperwork and sends emails from her apartment on weekends. She kind of considers it an inconvenience that most people like to leave the office before 5pm and don’t answer things on weekends so she gets a little snippy with her staff when they don’t want to come in early and stay late.

She has a single stress reliever, which is martial arts for two hours every morning (from 5-7 approximately). A room on the lower floor of her apartment is her training ground, and she has a trainer come and teach/spar with her. She looks pretty lean but is actually pretty strong and muscular (easily able to subdue a misbehaving Darling in a secure hold).

However, after she finds her Darling, Atalanta quite quickly adopts a strict work-life balance. She cuts her hours dramatically, acquires a 9-5 weekday schedule, and sometimes even takes a lunch if Darling is coming around. Her entire company heaves a big sigh because now they don’t feel guilty about going home to their own families at a normal time or having a weekend.

Her secretary, Noelle, basically runs her life. She is kind of a secretary/personal assistant because she controls Atalanta’s calendar and also runs any errands she deems necessary. Noelle is quite possibly the closest thing to a true friend Atalanta has, and she trusts her implicitly. She even trusts Noelle to go to her penthouse or accompany Darling on an outing. Noelle has signed an NDA and is paid A LOT, and she has absolutely no interest in leaving her gold mine of a job.

Atalanta’s modern penthouse is the top two floors of a large building, and decorated in dark grey and royal blue tones. The bottom floor has the kitchen, dining room, the Reflection Room, the training room, the living room, the garden terrace, a small bathroom, and another spare room. The top floor has 3 bedrooms with 3 full bathrooms, a screening room, Atalanta’s office, and a library/study for Darling. One entire wall that spans the living room, garden terrace, and library is fully glass.

Atalanta’s parents are also Yandere and Darling! Basically, when her mother was young, she saw her Father and sweet-talked his family into betrothing them, and after five or six years, they married and had Atalanta. The Father has been with the Mother for a little over 20 years now and is fully in love with his wife. He has no thoughts of leaving and spends most of his time in the country mansion with his wife being spoiled beyond belief. They adore their daughter and enjoy visiting her in the city.

Atalanta is an only child and she grew up VERY spoiled and VERY well-loved. She has been raised to take over the company, but currently her Mother is still in charge. Atalanta is a little peeved that she hasn’t retired and passed it down to her yet, so she is working as hard as she can to be accomplished and capable so her mom will allow her to inherit already.

Whenever she is not working or with Darling, Atalanta is always trying to better herself. She wants to seem as perfect and flawless to both her parents and everyone. She is always reading/watching the news, listening to popular podcasts, reading great books, and training her body and mind. She NEVER wants to be caught off guard or have someone try to start a conversation she is not well-versed in. She hates to feel stupid or ignorant.

Her Darling is held to the same standard as she is. She would never discard her Darling, so the only option is for her Darling to be perfect. Atalanta’s perfect Darling is a beautiful, intelligent girl she can love, protect, and spoil. She mostly wants a Darling who is well-behaved and compliant and who kisses her on the cheek when she comes home.

[wri0thesley]

Cat dad anon here: ironically by the the time you posted my response I got sick again lol funny how that works (I’m not mad btw i thought it was just funny because i forgot i sent that originally)

I would like to add to this with genshin WOMEN as cat moms.

Arlecchino is technically a cat dad literally because she has Lynette and Lyney. But also those two have snuck in many a stray into the hearth to keep as their own. Ironically enough many end up becoming hers in the classic: dad who didn’t want cat ends up being cat’s favorite. Well she sees no reason to fight it now, it makes the kids happy to have the cat even if it seems to prefer her. Rest assured that kitty will be well cared for not just because it has a bunch of orphans caring for it but because Arlecchino makes sure it only eats the most delectable of fish.

Jean is probably the one who gets a emotional support cat. A gift from Lisa perhaps? A affectionate little fluff ball that lingers around her helping her feel more at ease. Its been trained to bump her with its head whenever she gets too tense or stressed in order to indicate its time to relax and give the kitty some pets. It helps immensely as if she stays up too late the cat will simply lay ontop of her work forcing her to turn in for the night.

Another is Undoubtedly Chlorine. Awaiting her each day is a cat waiting by the door to greet her by immediately begging for food. A very loud kitty maybe a siamese as its miles more chatty than she herself is.

Ningguang possesses a common breed of cat surprisingly. Not s luxurious breed at all but rather a simple black cat. (Fun fact black cats were originally thought of as good luck) but this cat isn’t not at all poised or graceful. Infact its quite troublesome. It seems to be mischievous on purpose. If it is hungry then you will know from the sudden sounds of pottery falling. Since then most pots are reinforced to not be knockable. But the cat is a plump bastard because the staff struggled to calm it. Still even with its mischievous nature is Ningguang quite content with the creature. She sleeps with them cuddled by her as she used to cuddle cats while she lived on the streets for warmth. In fact the very cat she owns was picked out because it resembled her stray cat friend who passed long ago. Which is also why she will not even entertain the idea of replacing it and glares at anyone who suggests it. Her kitty is her respite from her stress as she can now spoil her little friend.

Beidous cats would be different. As she is a captain it actually would make sense to have cats onboard. Infact its a common. Ship cats are good for mice management but that also means they may not be as affectionate as they’re more wild like. More busy below decks stalking the mice. But beidou’s cats are a bit different. They proudly display to her their bounties so she’ll reward them with much love and affection. Plus there’s her pal kazuha who is canonically a cat magnet. Those cat lives better lives than some people!

And of course Lisa. Lisa definitely seems like she’d end up attracting other cats than actually having one of her own. Like if Kaeya has a kitty then it may find Lisa swaying it to her side with promise of quality naps and treats. Or if Jean is out on business she is the cat babysitter who will be lounging with the kitty enjoying a nice nap. Eventually she’d end up attracting a permanent cat who snuck into the library during a storm. She let the guy stay in of course but even after weeks have passed does it refuse to leave. Its more of the library’s cat but she is the librarian. She playfully gave it the title of her assistant as it likes to sit at her desk with her paperwork displayed like its actually doing buisness. It even has its own Favonious collar labeling it as a official employee of the Knights. The cat seems to Mimic Lisa alot. It follows her to greet and check on jean and play with Jean’s own kitty cat. But it doesn’t like going outside where its more noisy. It would rather nap on the sunlight coming through the window.

CAT MOMS . . . be still my heart. and oh no anon i'm sorry to hear that; i am sending you soup and hoping if you have a kitty of your own it is providing the healing snuggles and purrs that you deserve!

lisa's library cat is making me feel so soft; i adore her and the thought of walking into the library to see her snoozing behind the desk with the cats of the rest of the knights of favonius deciding she's a lovely pillow and a perfect napping spot . . . sigh.

navia definitely has a plump spoilt kitty who is dressed in the finest of clothes; she can't resist giving it a sweet treat now and then, and everyone in poisson knows that the cat with the lovely ornate collar belongs to their demoiselle and as such gives the cat a freshly caught fish or a bit of chicken or too many pets and loves!

miko is very fond of cats because they're just as tricky as she is; they tend to follow her around - but her favourite is a sleek black cat who sits, mostly, off to one side. it follows her but it doesn't want fusses or too many pets; it follows her to the shrine, to the publishing house . . . she's named it 'ei'.

[dano-locket]

How To Disappear Completely / Chapter One

AO3 Link

Pairing: Dano!Edward Nashton / GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,902

Summary:

He was so tender. Impossibly soft behind heavy coats and starched linen and a demeanor that said matter-of-factly, “I’m not really here right now.” Wherever he was, you’d meet him.

There's something inside that tired man, and you need to see what he can do.

--

A/N: my very first fic!!! this takes place after riddler: year one issue one. eddie is investigating and you are a public records clerk. i’m thinking this fic will be three or four chapters but if issue two of year one makes me as primal as issue one did, i'll def be adding on. sfw (for now!)

Chapter One

Let Me See

You hadn’t felt a thrill like this in years. And if you didn’t feel your own capacity for desire nestled deep behind your stomach, you’d have bet you never would again. But you did feel it. An aching something that cramped and contracted and kept you alive.

Edward.

That was his name; you’d double-checked his initial email. He found you. He had scrolled the staff directory for the Library of Gotham’s public records department, found your name, your email, your photo—frizzy hair, blank eyes, dull skin—and decided on you. Selected you to help him.

You shook yourself out of that daydream. It was a silly line of thinking; you knew you were his only choice. The library was consistently understaffed, leaving you alone most evenings in the basement-floor records office, dead silent and cold with the lack of light. You hadn’t spoken aloud for three days when he came in.

He’d needed all sorts of documents: LLC licenses, court transcripts, property records. You’d had a week to gather materials and he had two to read over them all. You didn’t have much time.

It surprised you how instantly drawn you were to him. Not because he wasn’t cute, of course. Ohmygod you thought he was cute. It was just typically that the closer you looked, at people, at places, at yourself, the more you found to disgust at, to fear. You hadn’t meant to be this way. You didn’t understand why others weren’t. 

His email had been cold, curt. You’d expected a man twice his age, and when you stood up behind your desk to greet him, you were taken aback back by how youthful he looked, rounded and rosy. His shy, gracious smile as you debriefed him on the documents had intrigued you and your attraction solidified as he turned his back to you, dragged all eight chairs to the corner of the small work space, pushed the two wooden tables together, and neatly spread out each sheet of paper, all without asking. 

You didn’t mind. You were content to watch him work. 

And the more you watched, the more you discovered. There was something about him, an unidentifiable bubbling that made your stomach sink and rise then sink again. Like there was something under his skin so different from the meek man who struggled to look you in the eye as he introduced himself. He was straining. It entranced you.

There was so much tension inside him. He shook with it sometimes; tensing his shoulders and jerking his legs and shuddering from a phantom chill when he thought no one would notice. Though that last part could be wishful thinking. You treasured the idea that you saw him uninhibited; deep in his work and unafraid to forget your existence. He was so intentional in his speech, rehearsed almost. You longed to open him up. 

You could tell something was wrong, that he wasn’t happy with whatever he’d discovered in the past two days. Every so often he had let out little scoffs of frustration and buried his face in his hands. He drew his eyebrows down tightly. Took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His exhaustion filled the room. 

When he came in today he seemed more weathered than before. It was clear he wasn’t sleeping well. He was even more distant with you–only offering a tight smile of acknowledgement as he first approached your desk and a nod of thanks as you passed him the same six boxes. Whoever opened had pushed the tables and chairs back to their rightful places, and instead of setting up shop, Edward slumped down at the left hand table in the chair facing you, already looking defeated.

He’d been flipping through a stack of estate deeds, chin tucked to his chest, when he froze entirely. Slowly he set the papers down and lifted his head, glancing over the boxes of papers as if looking for an answer. His chest started to heave and you found yourself matching his breath. His eyes darted up at you, wide and pink, and only then did you wrench your gaze away from him and onto the decade-old desktop computer in front of you. In your peripheral, you saw his head still fixed toward you but you didn’t dare look up.

You watched the time move. Two minutes he sat completely still, looking straight ahead. You started to sweat. On minute three he dropped his shoulders, exhaling loudly enough that you could hear a slight nose whistle ring across the room, and began cleaning up his workspace. Without a word, he rose and collected his things, then stilled behind the table. You took a deep breath before raising to meet his eye, but by the time you finished turning, his head was down as he hurriedly crossed the room. You didn’t miss the forceful way he shoved the door open, harder than needed.

You turned back to the computer, checking the time. Fourteen minutes until close. God, you wanted to follow him out. You had no idea what you’d say to him but you’d do anything to watch. What was he doing now he was out of sight? You wondered what he was like completely alone. 

What would you say to him? That was a question you needed to answer if you ever wanted… whatever it was you wanted with him. Maybe that was the better question, but both required more research. Gotham was a dense city but it was contained. He must live close by. 

– –

Gotham shimmered at night. Buzzing neon lights bounced off the puddles of rain water and oil that coated the perpetually slick pavement. It could almost be beautiful. Until you looked closer. Gotham had a way of dazzling people, like a predator puffing up before it makes its kill. You lived in this dying city all your life, though. You knew its dark corners, knew to run from danger. But the city preferred to hide in plain sight, patting your forehead and stealing your purse. It was difficult to navigate, confusing. You were never safe. The constant vigilance was enough to give anyone trust issues. You were afraid. Would Edward understand?

You couldn’t let yourself get distracted though, only sparing quick glances down to ensure your shoes stay dry. You had to keep your head up. 

The street parking by the library was abysmal, constantly packed with the only few spots restricted to two hours. Edward had been there for three. He couldn’t have gotten far on foot. You recoiled at that thought but didn’t refute it. You needed to see him. A cord had been cut that night and suddenly your body felt so cold, singular, as if you could no longer sustain it on your own. You didn’t want to be alone anymore.

You felt delirious chasing after a man who seemed to want nothing to do with you, animalistic, as if you yourself were peeling away down to instinct and want. You couldn’t believe what he’d done to you. And in such a short time. You’d been alone for so long. You knew what he felt. You thought you did. You knew. You felt it roll off him in waves, the barely concealed, consuming discomfort that infected his every move. He seemed so sad. You wanted to help.

When your aimless wandering hit the half hour mark, you called it a night. Your last stop before home would be to your favorite corner store to pick up tonight’s dinner: a microwaveable pasta packet and a bag of hot cheetos. You were browsing the energy drinks, searching for the best deal, when you felt him looming. His dragging footsteps had become quickly recognizable and he carried with him the faint smell of city air and bar soap. 

“Um.”

Edward. You were right. You couldn’t help your wide smile as you turned to him. You hoped you looked pretty. You felt wolfish. 

“Hey!” Your voice squeaked. 

Edward’s eyes were wide as he looked down at you, flickering across your face like he was reading. “Hi,” he squeaked back. “So! Do you live around here?”

No pleasantries. He hadn’t asked how you were doing. You didn’t care. Not when a sweet flush was spreading slow across his full cheeks and clammy forehead. “A few blocks over, yeah. You?”

“Yeah, yeah. Yeah! Uh, just further down the street.” He pointed animatedly, knocking his glasses askew. He settled them straight on the curve of his nose then let his hand hover, fidgeting with the clear frames, taking every opportunity to hide his face. He kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke. “If could– If– I could walk you home, if you wanted. It’s not safe around here, and it’s cold tonight…so…” 

Your head swirled. You had to make sure you weren’t swaying in place. Oh god oh god yes. You were struck by his directness, pleased. Was he always like this?

“Yes!” Too eager. He didn’t seem to mind though, giving you the first real smile you’d seen from him. He was so tender. Impossibly soft behind heavy coats and starched linen and a demeanor that said matter-of-factly, “I’m not really here right now.” Wherever he was, you’d meet him. 

The walk to your place was mostly silent. You kept close to Edward’s side and he kept his hands in his pockets. He’d offered you his coat several times and while you longed to wrap yourself up in his scent, his warmth, his belongings, you couldn’t ask that of him. Gotham Novembers bit hard and you wouldn’t let him suffer like that. Oh you just wanted to cradle him. There was something so painfully vulnerable about him, an earnesty laid so bare you felt the need to look away to give him his privacy. It made you stare longer. He was struggling. Barely held together. You knew how he felt. 

“This is me.” You broke the silence as the two of you approached the tall, brick walk-up. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me. You knew he wouldn’t. But his presence made you feel hopeful, lighter. You wanted him to. 

“I’m glad you walked me home, Edward. I hope I see you more. Outside the library.” You were just saying anything now, desperate to validate him.  

“Oh! Me too. I’m glad.” Again, his little smile. Private and slight and cartoonishly round like a doodled little smiley face. He looked so unburdened then, free of the heaviness he carried with him, if only for a minute.

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want this to end. 

“Goodnight.” He ended it for you, giving you a parting nod but making no move to leave.

“Goodnight, Edward.” You had to stop saying his name before he started to find it unnerving. You just wanted him to know you knew it. You looked over your shoulder as you stopped at the door to dig your keys out. You hoped he’d remember that, think about it later. 

Inside your cluttered apartment, you let out a squeal, throaty and giddy. You hurried to the window to watch him walk away. 

Instead he stood still right where you left him, looking up at your window. Waiting for a light to turn on, your brain supplied. A chill went up your spine. How romantic to know he was looking back.

[danielle-dna]

20 - Harm-Others

Books are ancient. The literature as an art is even older. Young people are mostly stupid and lack any artistic ability. I would know. I sat in class with them for six hours, two days a week. University as an institution represents intelligence and the desire for knowledge. But not the university I picked.

When you have limited options for higher education due to the lack of nepotism, you just need to settle for what is given to you. My local university had excellent young and educated professors and many useful resources, but lacked intelligent and enthusiastic students.

Most of my classmates barley attended the seminars, most of them smoked, vaped and drank like it was a sport. I attended all lectures, submitted every assignment on time and did my best to keep up. But still, I was unable to achieve higher score than a B.

This of course led me to a downward spiral on social media as I was desperately trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. My first solution was to do a hot-girl-walk. So I got dolled up like I was going to a fancy yoga studio, when in fact, I was strolling in my local shopping centre with a cheap iced coffee can from Poundland, wearing a cheap black Primark workout set. Slowly I ventured in posh shops, where everyone was white and british and they always made me feel like an imposter. What do you think you are doing here, you filthy broke foreigner? Where is your trust fund? Where is your daddies Rolls Royce?

Ignoring the intrusive thoughts I entered Waterstones and started looking through my favourite sections, however every time I picked up a book, it made me painfully aware of my situation. There was not a book in the entire shop that was under £10. £10 - that is groceries for a few days. That is two bottles of shampoo. A pair of leggings from Primark that will get worn off in a few months. My working class math mind was working overdrive. It made me angry. If i could, I'd have a library of my own. I'd invest in my own education and read all the books I wish. Instead of owning my own, carefully curated library I had to use the local public library that was pretty good, but not incredible.

Once again, pushing my intrusive thoughts aside, I ventured further into the expensive world of beautifully curated books and aesthetically pleasing yet equally expensive stationery. There I stumbled upon a small section of self-help books. Well, browsing couldn't hurt, right?

Very soon, I noticed a common pattern among the titles and content of the books available. All of them claimed that the problems and solutions are inside of ourselves. That all issues and challenges we encounter are solvable, but only if WE really try and if WE find a solution. Fuck this, I thought. I always tried to do everything right. I never got in trouble with the law, I never drank, did drugs or even smoked. I tried my best to succeed while not having a single day off a week and working in a job where everyone else was disrespectful to me, while I tried to help them. Where coworkers would not acknowledge me because I was always the youngest staff member. I tried to stay positive, despite my mother always having less and less interest in me, often leaving me to deal with my issues by myself, or worse, caused me emotional trauma just because I disagreed with her and then she would blame me for everything else in her life.

Fuck this.

As calmly as I could, I exited the bookstore.

On my way home, I decided to visit Simon. Entering his apartment building, I headed towards his flat. Thankfully, he gave me the combination to the main gate. Right before I knocked, I heard some voices inside the flat. Before I could cheez it, my gorgeous masked man has already opened the door. This time without a mask. "You okay?" I was almost too stunned to speak. "Yeah, yes...aha? You got company....?" Nodding his head and leaning on the doorframe he calmly answered: "Few of my mates are over to watch the game." Slightly craning my neck, I could see the same man from the shooting range. Soap, I think. And I recognised the second one with the fishing hat, except, this time he didn't wear any hat and didn't wear a military uniform. The third man seemed younger, but I've never seen him before. But I knew they were all military.

When they saw me, all three of them looked at me curiously. I felt judged, scared. Like a fly under a microscope. "Oh, shit, sorry...I didn't know. See you later then."

Before he could reply, I almost ran downstairs. However, right before he closed the door, I could hear the following: "Is yer lass joining?" Simons' sharp "Shut up Johnny" followed.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

"Why haven't you been eating?" with vaxleth?

43. "Why haven't you been eating?" setting this pre-mfl!

turned my water into wine #48

Sovereign Korrin has been gone from Zephrah for a mere week and a half, and already Keyleth feels as though she is a tapestry fraying at the edges. It isn't as if she hasn't watched her father run this nation for the past twenty-odd years, as if she didn't know before assuming command of the castle what would be expected of her in his stead. Yet here she is, harried and stressed, constantly bouncing from this meeting to the next, hoping that along the way, she does not make the decision that spells disaster for her people.

So her days are long and tiresome, and her nights full with the reading of reports and the writing of missives. The castle staff can scarcely keep her in supply of candles as she works far past moonrise, sometimes straight through 'til morning. Some nights, she wishes Vax would not come to her, just so she wouldn't have to see the concern in his eyes when he wakes to leave only to find her already hunched over her desk, halfway through a ledger of accounts or a letter to a general.

But come to her he does, every night, as reliable as the tides. She lets him in, lets herself fold into his chest, just long enough to convince herself that perhaps things won't fall apart. He brushes her hair, takes his time plaiting it back as he hums under his breath, and then quietly reads from her personal library as she continues on with her work. Still, though, she can feel his eyes on her, and instead of the usual hunger in them, she knows they contain naught but unease.

After two weeks of this, when Keyleth opens the secret door in the stone to let him in, instead of pulling her into his arms as is his wont, he frowns at her, face stern. "Keyleth."

She startles at the reproach in his stone. "Yes?"

"Why haven't you been eating?"

Flabbergasted, she says, "What on earth are you talking about?"

With a sigh, Vax nudges his way inside. "We can start with the dinner sitting cold right over here." He gestures to the corner of her writing desk, which does indeed hold a plate of meats and vegetables that were delivered for her well over two hours ago and are surely inedible at this point.

Still, she waves off his concern. "I got caught up in what I was doing. Not to worry, I'm fine."

"Truly?" He takes her elbow and guides her over to her long, ornate mirror, an item she tends to avoid at all costs. "Have you seen yourself lately?"

She looks at herself, past the hair hanging limp and the nightgown stained with late-night tea, and tries to see what Vax is talking about. Perhaps her skin is a bit sallower than usual, yes, and certainly her dark circles have rarely been so pronounced. Vax's hand comes to rest on her cheek, and his thumb swipes a half-circle in the hollow of her cheek. "You're wasting away, Kiki." His other hand comes to rest on her hip, and to her surprise, she can feel it digging into the bone. "You are not fine."

Has she truly not been eating? She tries to remember, but her mind is filled with all manner of facts and figures, strategies and contingencies, that she has little room for such mundane matters as food. She can admit she has had little appetite these days, between the workload and the stress, but surely things have not gotten this bad?

As if on cue, her stomach growls a tiger's roar. Vax hooks his chin onto her shoulder and meets her eye in the mirror. "Nothing impresses me more than your unwavering dedication to your nation, Your Highness, but I will not see it eat you alive from the inside out."

She is just so very tired. "I...I don't..."

"Come here." He spins her around—she can offer little resistance, not that she would—and holds her face in both hands. "Open the door and tell Kynan to instruct the kitchen to send up another plate. I don't care that it's late—" He talks right over her attempted protest. "—this is what they are hired to do, and besides, I have it on good authority that your affliction has not gone unnoticed amongst the staff, and it is best to quell any rumors before they can blossom. We will sit by the fire until it arrives, and then you will eat it, and then we will go to bed, and at no point for the rest of this evening will you read or write or otherwise use that brilliant mind I adore so keenly." He tips his forehead against hers. "You need to rest, Keyleth, before I and the Ashari Nation both lose the thing we care about most."

And she wants to argue, so badly, as there are still yet letters to write and choices to makes, but his voice is thick like honey and his hands are warm like the fire and all she wants to do is melt into him, to disappear from this room of stone and emerge into a sunlit field, surrounded by nothing but grass and flowers and his hair. Her stomach calls out again, and she knows the fight is lost. "Alright."

He kisses both cheeks and then steps back, clearing her path to the door. As he goes to hide behind her dressing screen, she makes her way to the door, finally ready to ask for what she needs.

[the-blackholeus]

How about some dr Hauser x reader headcannons. Also aaa so sorry for being mean. Your writing is top notch

I'm sorry but I don't know what you are talking about. I do not recall you being mean, so there is nothing you have to apologize for. As for your request, I hope you enjoy this:

At the beginning of your relationship, Hauser will be a bit reserved. He is a very private person, and it will take him a while to be able to open up to you, but with time and patience, he will begin to tell you more and more about himself and his past.

He is actually a very shy person. Whenever you would try to kiss him and hold his hand in public, his cheeks would redden to the point he looks like a tomato and he would avert his gaze.

Despite having sworn to abandon his job as a surgeon, Hauser will make an exception for you if you get hurt. He is the only doctor in the entire area that hasn’t lost his mind (completely) and he does not want you to walk right into the claws of the monstrous chief doctor.

He is not a jealous person. If you would have friends outside the library, he will gladly tolerate them in order to keep you happy. He only wants to know who these people are and what their problems are. This may seem a bit controlling, but he just wants to keep you save, which is not very easy in the environment you two live in.

You are the only person he allows to take a book from his library. The only thing he expects you to do is to return it in one piece. That is quite reasonable, isn’t it?

When his knee begins to hurt unbearably, he sometimes asks you to fetch his meds or the salve. However, if your relationship has already progressed and you two trust each other unconditionally, it is also possible for him to ask you to massage it.

If you are tired or feel unwell, he has no problem to scoop you up in one arm or hoist you onto his back and carry you to the room he had set up for the both of you to comfortably live in. If you want, he would even make you a cup of tea or cocoa and/or cuddle with you.

He is very observant. Give him one week and he will know you from the inside out. While it may sound creepy, he mostly uses this knowledge to find books you might find interesting to give to you. He knows that Heilwald can be boring at times, and he does not want you to die of boredom.

He is very protective of you when it comes to the staff. He is aware of how dangerous they are and what they would do to you as soon as they would get their hands on you. He’s afraid that you would end up like the others. That is why he will not let you go to dangerous places alone, making sure that you always have company like the Trash Collector or Nurse Hellen. He doesn’t like either of them, but since they are one of the only people who have not lost their minds yet, he knows that you are safe with them.

If you are sick, he does his best to keep you as comfortable and happy as he can. He does not leave your side, bringing you tea and medicine. If you have to vomit, he will pet your back and hold your hair, if it is long enough, out of the bucket or bowl to make sure it doesn’t get dirty.

When he is sick, however, you have to practically tie him down for him to stay in bed and force him to take the medicine to make him feel better. He hates being vulnerable and weak, and it will certainly take a while for you to convince him to rest. Your top argument? “Someone could be stealing right in front of your eyes, and you would be too sick to notice.”

When it comes to sex, Hauser and you have it regularly. He leaves you satisfied and makes you feel loved, doing his best to meet your every need and give you all you could dream of. He does not have any kinks he knows of, as his sex life was almost non-existent before you came into his world and became his significant other, but with you, he feels comfortable enough to explore.

He loves cats. If you are not allergic or hate them, he will gladly take you on his nightly stroll to feed the strays that have been caught in the loophole. If you see and really want one, he might even consider adopting it for you and to create a permanent and loving home for him or her.

On lazy evenings or afternoons, he would take you down to the library. There, he has a room with a large fireplace. He loves to cuddle up with you on the large armchair in front of it, reading a book while you sleep or do the same. Often, this is done with a cup of your favorite drink or a bit of alcohol. Those moments are his absolute favorite and the best way to build an emotional connection with him.

When it comes to children, he is not really fond of them. They are too loud and energetic for someone like him. However, when you want a child or already have one from a previous relationship, he will gladly watch them and teach them things. If the child happens to be into reading or storytelling, he will be able to build a strong bond with them. Regardless of said bond though, the child is just as well-protected as you. Since he or she is a part of you, he’d rather get himself killed than let any harm come to him or her.

If you have “unusual” pets like snakes or spiders or rats, be prepared that they will be used for harmless experiments. Don’t worry, he would never hurt them, he just wants to test their intelligence with labyrinths or similar stuff. Besides, he seems to have a hand for them too, as they seem to love him just as much as they love you, if not a bit more.

[otunnicliffe]

Queens of Hogwarts

Chapter Four: A Lesson On... What?

In touch with the ground I'm on the hunt, I'm after you Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd And I'm hungry like the wolf Straddle the line in discord and rhyme I'm on the hunt, I'm after you Mouth is alive, with juices like wine And I'm hungry like the wolf

Nearly two weeks has passed since the girls' conversation in the library, and the full moon was approaching. Both Gwendolyn and Arabella had been busy trying to take care of her, and coming up with excuses to tell the other girls in their dorms, from Kimberly coming down with the flu to her eating something bad. 

When Kimberly woke up, she groaned and clutched her forehead. 

'The flu is really bas isn't it?' Molly asked her, her face full of genuine concern. 

'Yeah... its wiping me out, not gonna lie,' Kimberly tells her, before trying to sit up. She made sure to sit up carefully, and to keep her movements slow. When she eventually made it to the mirror, she wasn't surpsied to see herself looking pale and clammy. 

'I look like shit,' she groaned to Arabella, as the other girls left for breakfast, leaving the pair and Gwendolyn alone in the common room. 

'Two more days, and you'll feel right as rain again,' Gwendolyn says, hugging the girl as she entered the bathroom. Gwendolyn was always worried for her friend during this time of the month, she hated knowing that one of her closest friends was in pain, and was suffering. 

Kimberly huffed in response, and went to go get ready. 

'I'm nervous about this full moon, Bella,' Gwendolyn admits to her friend.

'Me too, it's so weird knowing now that we aren't the only ones,' Arabella admitted. 

'I think we need names, like they do,' Gwendolyn announces, 'To hide our identities for this month, and to give Remus the Wolfsbane without him knowing it was me.'

'Names?' Kimberly asked groggily, coming back into the bathroom, fully dressed in her Gryffindor attire. 

'Yeah, I've thought them through and everything,' she tells them, proudly. 

'What are they?' Arabella asks. 

'So, I'm Prancer, Bella can be Snuffles and Kim is Swiftfoot,' She says, pointing at the two other girls as she spoke. 

'Not bad names,' Arabella mused hers over, 'Snuffles is quite cute actually.'

'I like mine too,' Kimberly agrees. 

Gwendolyn's face lit up, it often did when people agreed with her ideas. 

'Come on, let's go to breakfast... I'm starving!' Arabella proposes, and the girls then walk towards the Great Hall. 

The Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a majestic and expansive chamber, serving as the central hub for student life and the setting for many significant events. Its high, enchanted ceiling mirrors the sky outside, be it sunny, stormy, or starlit, creating an ever-changing ambiance. Four long tables stretch across the hall, one for each house—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin—where students gather for meals and socializing. At the far end, a raised platform hosts the staff table, where the professors and Headmaster oversee the proceedings. The hall is illuminated by hundreds of floating candles, casting a warm, inviting glow over the stone walls adorned with banners representing the house colours and crests. During festive occasions like the Start-of-Term Feast, Halloween, and Christmas, the Great Hall is decorated with seasonal splendour, enhancing its magical atmosphere. The Great Hall is not only a place for nourishment but also for announcements, celebrations, and ceremonies, making it the beating heart of Hogwarts.

The trio finally arrived, after a while. Kimberly kept stumbling over her feet and nearly falling, no matter how many years it had been now since she started transitioning every full moon, the illness never seemed to get better. 

The trio sat next to the Marauders, Gwendolyn and Kimberly on one side, next to James and Peter, and Arabella on the other, sat next to Sirius and Remus. All three happened to notice Remus. He was clearly ill as well, his face paler than usual, and his hair looked slightly more dishevelled than it usually did. The three girls quickly looked at each other, this was yet another point to proving their theory. 

Suddenly, Alice approached them, handling a packet of medicine. 'Here,' she said softly, handing the pills over to Kimberly. 'Flu is never fun, these should help with your head.' 

'Alice you are an angel on earth thank you,' Kimberly confided, taking two of the pills out of the packet.

'No worries,' Alice added with a smile, before going back to sit with Frank. 

'You look ill, Fox,' James remarked. 

'I know,' Kimberly moaned. She then let out a rather realistic fake sneeze. 'I have the bloody flu, can you believe?'

She froze when she saw Remus staring at her, and tried her best not to stare back. 

'Remus, you don't look too good either,' Gwendolyn remarked, and the three girls would have bene stupid to miss the look of fear that was collectively seen on the Marauders' faces. 

'Yeah... think I'm coming down with something as well,' he mutters, quickly. 

'Oh bless you!' Arabella says, with faux-innocence. 

'Well it is cold season to be fair,' Gwendolyn adds. 

'You want some?' Kimberly asks him, holding up the packet of pills. 

'Yes please,' He says, before muttering a quick 'thanks'. 

'We've gotta get going, guys,' Gwendolyn said, looking at her watch. 'Time for another DADA session.'

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a dynamic and often enigmatic space, reflecting the nature of its subject. The room is filled with various magical objects and artifacts used for teaching students how to protect themselves from dark creatures, curses, and malevolent magic. The walls are lined with shelves containing a plethora of spell books, defensive charms, and potion ingredients. At the front, a large blackboard stands ready for notes and diagrams, while the professor's desk is cluttered with scrolls and magical implements. Enchanted windows allow for changing weather effects, adding to the immersive learning environment. Despite the classroom's typically austere appearance, it occasionally takes on a more foreboding atmosphere, especially during lessons on particularly dangerous dark creatures or spells. The frequent turnover of Defence Against the Dark Arts professors has led to a variety of teaching styles and classroom layouts, contributing to the room's ever-changing character.

This years teacher was called Mr Arrowswift. Wilbur Arrowswift was a tall man, standing well over six feet, with an imposing yet approachable presence. His black hair, once jet-black, is now flecked with strands of grey, hinting at his years of experience and wisdom. His eyes are sharp and observant, always attentive to his students, yet they soften with warmth when he speaks. He often wears neatly pressed shirts and slacks, embodying a professional demeanour that commands respect in the classroom. Despite his height, he moves with a gentle grace, and his deep voice carries a reassuring authority that students find both comforting and inspiring.

Everyone went and sat in their assigned seats, Kimberly was next to James, Arabella next to Remus and Gwendolyn was next to Sirius, with Peter being sat next to Adromeda Black, as this was a lesson shared with the Slytherins. 

Gwendolyn stared at the board curiously, there was nothing written on the chalkboard, so she wondered what they would be learning about today. Already, this teacher seemed full of surprises. 

'Hello all,' the Professor boomed, his voice silencing the chatter that was occurring around the room. 

'You know, I can imagine you looking something like him when you're older,' she whispered to Sirius, as the Professor was getting set up. 

'Honestly, I'd take it,' Sirius remarked, flashing her a wide smile. 

'Today,' Arrowswift announced. 'We will be learning about werewolves.'

Kimberly let out a cough in surprise, but disguised it as a real cough, playing into her fake illness. Gwendolyn's eyes widened, and she looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Sirius looking towards Remus, whose face went paler than it was before. 

'So, werewolves will reach adolescence over the summer before they are 16 years old. So to put it into perspective for you, it was the summer just gone. They will change directly overnight, growing taller, stronger and overall will be deemed as more attractive. It is known, mostly for humour reasons, but it is mentioned in the exams, canine puberty.'

Gwendolyn glanced at Kimberly, who was looking more worried by the second. Thankfully for her, James was seemingly more worried for his friend than to look at the brunette next to him. 

'The females will get longer legs, more vivid hair and their eyes will seem brighter. Meanwhile, the males will fill out with muscle, and their hair will also get slightly more vibrant. Both males and females will gaina  more advanced sense of smell and eyesight, alongside gaining a very strong sense of protectiveness. They all go through these changes mainly for mates, and to learn how to defend yourselves better. The wolf side will start to enhance the human side too, especially when it comes to protectiveness for mates.'

Marlene raised her hand. 'Yes, Miss McKinnon?' He asked. 

'How do werewolves know who their mate is?' Marlene asked. 'Is it true that they mate for life?'

'Very good questions, Miss McKinnon,' Arrowswift complimented. 'Five points for Gryffindor. And to answer, when a werewolf comes across their mate, which will always be another werewolf, they will about 90 percent of the time notice straight away, but their mate is only found after they have gone through canine puberty. When the mates finally see each other as mates, both of their eyes will flash yellow, and the human will feel the werewolf within want to jump out. And to your other question, yes, they do in fact mate for life. Once they've got their mate there is no need to look for another, and the werewolves will become insanely protective other one another. If any of you decides to harm a werewolf with a mate, well, I suggest you don't in the first place.' Arrowswift chuckled at the last bit. 

Then, the bell went, dismissing them. 

The rest of the day went by slowly for the girls. Gwendolyn's mind couldn't stop racing, thinking about what Professor Arrowswift had said in class. How could she have been so stupid and not seen the obvious signs that Remus was a werewolf? And it became even more obvious to her that Remus may very well be Kimberly's mate, as what the Professor told them sounded exactly like what Kimberly said earlier to them. 

Finally, as the final lesson finished, the three girls raced into thier dorm, telling the other girls that Kimberly was going for a nap, even though they knew no sleeping would be taking place.

'So, Remus is your mate!' Gwendolyn announced, the moment to door shut on their dorms. 

Kimberly huffs, a blush making its way on her cheeks. 'I suppose so,' she says finally. 'But wait until the full moon. Then we will know for sure.'

'I agree,' Arabella adds. 'No use getting ahead of ourselves.'

'I've got the potions, for Remus,' Gwendolyn said suddenly, going over to her bed and lifted up her pillows carefully. Under it, were two glass vials, purple in colour. 'These will be for Remus, yours are where I usually put them.' She added. 

'Thank you,' Kimberly said graciously. 

'I only do it because I love you,' Gwendolyn says, sending a wink towards the brunette. 

'Are you gonna put it in their room then?' Arabella asked. 

'Will do, but they can't be in there when I do it,' Gwendolyn says. 

'Write a not for them as well, so they don't think it's a love potion or something,' Kimberly advised. 

'Good idea,' Arabella adds.

Gwendolyn takes a piece of parchment out of her bad and a quill, and grabs a pot of ink

To the Marauders...

----

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter entered their dorm room about fifteen minutes later, all particularly happy that it was empty. However much they liked Frank, Fabian, Gideon and Arthur, they were all (especially Remus) thankful for the momentary escape. 

'My head is spinning so bad,' Remus remarked, rubbing his temples lightly. 

'Oy Mooney! There's something on your bed!' Sirius remarks. 

'Huh,' Remus says, confused. 

Indeed there was something on his bed. There were two glass vials, both filled with a purple liquid, and beside them was a note, written in parchment paper that was yellowing. 

'To the Marauders,' James read aloud, from the first part of the note.

The boys all looked at each other, confused. 

'What's in the vials?' Peter asks, picking one of them up. He managed to find a small tag and read aloud: 'Wolfsbane potion.'

'Wolfsbane!' Remus exclaimed. 'Whoever sent these must know of my furry little problem!'

'Not only that mate,' James added. 'They must be pretty bloody brilliant at potions, because this is hard, Gwendolyn was showing me some of the potions we do for N.E.W.T.S last potion lesson!'

'Read the note then, Mooney!' Sirius announced, as James handed him the note.

Remus read aloud:

Dear Marauders,

Next to this letter are two bottles of Wolfsbane potion, to help with Mooney's furry little problem. If you don't know what it is, this potion is designed specifically for werewolves during the full moon. It allows them to keep in control of their minds and body, but unfortunately doesn't really get rid of the pain during the transformation process. So, basically, Lupin will not be wanting to tear Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail apart. 

Only take one of the vials for this full moon, it must be taken around half an hour before the transformation takes place. Save the other vial for next month. 

If you are wondering how we know about these potions, lets just say Remus isn't the only one with a 'furry little problem', and the other werewolf wishes you well.

Best of luck, 

Prancer, Snuffles and Swiftfoot. 

'Did they not give you a name?' Sirius asked. 

'No, only three three nicknames,' Remus sighed.

'Well that's unhelpful,' Peter remarks, James nodding in agreement.

'Wait guys there's more!' Remus announced before reading again:

PS:

If you are wanting to meet us, come to the forbidden forest during your transformation, and there you will find us, a werewolf, and two companions. We have a feeling the werewolves are going to get on better than expected. 

'What does that mean?' Peter asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

'My mate,' Remus says, looking shocked. 

'Your what?' Sirius asked looking shocked. 

'There's a reason we learnt about werewolves in DADA today,' Remus announced. 'My mate is also at Hogwarts.'

'But who is it?' James asked. 

'We will find that out in two days time,' Remus said, mulling over the two vials. 'But I have my suspicions.'

'Who?' Sirius asked him. 

Remus shook his head, 'I'll tell you after the full moon if I still believe them then.'

It was going to be an interesting full moon, that's for sure. 

[isfjmel-phleg]

We're probably going to be losing one of our librarians too, which would bring us down to a staff of three for the fall semester. Filling these jobs is like pulling teeth--people with library qualifications aren't exactly falling all over themselves to move out to Boringsville USA.

We'll be open 7:45 AM-11 PM four days a week (plus less extreme hours on the other days), which means there are night shifts to cover. We have guided tours to give freshman classes, which takes away a staff member from their regular time at the front desk to lead them. People have appointments sometimes (including me--I still haven't explained to my colleagues why I disappear for an hour and a half in the morning twice a month because I suspect some of them would see my getting counseling as a means of discrediting me). I have vacation time already arranged a few times this fall, which would leave only two staff members to manage. And heaven forbid any of us get sick.

We'll figure something out but right now I'm in panic mode.

[tobiasdrake]

Okay, reasonably sure there is no peril here except for the tremendous peril threatening to doom us all. Back to town.

The developers killed all of their Kickstarter subscribers and buried them on an uninhabited island so nobody would ever know. How are things going here? Has anyone built a statue of me yet?

I haven't. Asked anyone to do that. I was just hoping. Of their own volition, maybe....

I also tested the fishing pond. Three different kinds of fish and a shellfish. Most ponds have three types of critter but y'all get four. This place is a paradise.

Oh shit, I forgot to vote for 'Vill-ere' seven hundred times. Dammit, Zale, you were supposed to remind me!

Someone must have stuffed the ballots. What a cheating--

I mean, congratulations, Garl! You deserve it. Hehe heh heh....

No, really, you do. You were organizing the entire town construction while I was off bopping rocks with my staff. I just wanted it because of egotism. Sincerely, this is your moment, man.

I love it! The town of Mirth. The antidote to Woe and Strife. A metaphorical representation of human resilience against the malevolent forces arrayed against life itself.

It's beautiful. Honestly.

Just. Maybe. As the town gets bigger and we start needing to name individual districts, don't forget about me?

We stay any longer and they might elect Garl mayor. They can't have him. He's mine.

I appreciate the tone but if you're here to announce election results, there will be blood. I can be extremely feral when I'm possessive.

Tell him we've gone away to begin our training and won't be able to see him for the next ten goddamned y--

*deep breath* Dweller of Strife. Spite is a luxury that we don't have the budget for right now.

Okay. Calm. Fake smile. Pleasantry.

Thank you, Headmaster. It's so lovely to see you again. I hope you're in good spirits and that this day finds you well.

Oh, you can turn your jolly ass around and leave, then. Bad news is forbidden in Mirth. Or it's going to be as soon as Garl... becomes mayor and....

...shit. Fine. Go on. Ruin my day.

That's it? We knew that a week ago. You've spent a week researching this problem only to reiterate what we already knew?

Uh. Yeah. The three of us are not dozens and dozens of people. Instead of banging your head against that brick wall, maybe you should have been looking for other options. We can't win inside the box so what can we do outside of it?

When you can't untie the knot, you find a knife.

Cool, it's not in the library. Did you try asking the Elder Mist to prophesize something? Talk to the Molekin about the logistics of waking up the Sleeper and Let Them Fighting it with the Dweller? Studied the effects of Roro's soulstones against the Dweller's curses? Just off the top of my head.

Yoyo's out there somewhere. She foresaw Momo's victory against the Dweller of Strife last time. Maybe she can tell us something.

There's plenty of ideas besides reading and rereading the same stuffy tomes from the sky library. I've been out in the world for like two weeks and I already have four. Come on, man.

T_T I'm furious and crying at the same time what the hell

FINE. We don't have the numbers to do this square so I guess we don't need you anyway. T_T Go ahead and abandon me. You're just an old man with no guardrails!

A philosophical surrender to the clash of beliefs with Erlina. I. Have. So many complicated feelings right now.

This is about Momo. I know it's about Momo. I knew it was about Momo from the moment he said it. I realize Moraine is grieving. That he has been grieving, but his ironclad discipline and insistence on upholding duty has prevented him from ever truly processing his feelings. I get that.

But it still hurts that he's springing this on us. I can understand where he's coming from and also feel betrayed about it at the same time.

The ironic thing is, I didn't even want him to come with us. I wanted us to keep doing our thing and trying to solve this problem. But not like this. This hurts.

Y'eet. Ours is Y'eet. That's amazing.

But if you're set on retiring from overwhelming despair and grief that this hellish lifestyle inflicts on everyone who carries it ABANDONING ME then I guess that's my problem to figure out, huh?

T_T

[mariacallous]

The queue forms early outside Norwich’s Citizens Advice. Right next door another other long line waits for the library to open. Queueing for books? Maybe, but mainly for a warm place to spend the day, a member of Citizens Advice staff tells me. They aren’t street homeless but neatly dressed people from cold homes.

This branch of Citizens Advice is only open for two hours on weekday mornings, as it can’t cope with any more clients for its volunteers to triage. Appointments are fully booked for the next two weeks and sometimes desperation explodes. On this day, the advice coordinator, Trudie Gibbons, has to ask a man to leave. He had been yelling, “You’re not giving me any advice!” but she talks him down with what she calls “zero tolerance but great understanding” from her 20 years’ experience. One man arrived with a sharpened stake the other day.

“We are just about the only face-to-face service left,” she says. “Everything else is online, or a phone line that never answers, no humans to talk to.” And so some vent their frustration here. Most people arriving are awkward, never having needed help before; they never expected this devastation of unpayable bills, soaring debt, bare cupboards. Gibbons gives out six food bank vouchers in the first hour to deeply embarrassed clients. “They don’t quite know how to phrase asking for food,” she says.

Staff who have worked here for years, alongside admirable volunteers, say that they have never seen anything like this. They are well accustomed to advising people in trouble, but it’s hard to capture their sense of shock at what’s happening now. People I meet on the frontline in all kinds of services are lost for new ways to describe the scale of this tsunami crashing in not just on the already poor, but on middling households impoverished overnight. “Cost of living crisis” sounds too tame, too polite to capture the brutal fear of losing homes and everything. Martin Lewis, the wise money-saving expert, saw this arriving early on, admitting earlier this year that he was “virtually out of tools” to help people now. Are Tory MPs hearing all this in their surgeries? Perhaps few still expect any help from them.

It’s no wonder that specialist debt adviser Marcel Cheek echoes Lewis’s words to me. After 22 years, he is used to getting people’s debts delayed or cancelled, maybe with a debt relief order. He makes personal “better off” calculations that tot up outgoings and incomings to get people back on their feet. Cancel that Sky subscription, but not the pet food or wifi. Apply for that benefit they never knew was there. “But this is quite different,” he says, this sudden rise in energy bills, food costs and rent or mortgage payments. “When I’ve done all that,” he says, “people in ordinary jobs find they have a deficit budget I can’t fix. I’ve never seen that before.”

How many people is he talking about? He keeps figures carefully: he finds 48% of those they see here now have less coming in than they can live on – so debts will start mounting again as soon as they’re cleared. What will happen, I ask. “I don’t know,” he says. “I really don’t know.” His father was a debt adviser for 30 years before him; there has never been a surge like this. At Citizens Advice’s head office, Morgan Wild, the head of policy, confirms the unprecedented nature of the problem: “Debts I’ve never seen before. We’re handing out more food vouchers in a couple of months than in the last five years combined.” The Trussell Trust, the food bank charity, warns of emptying crates and low supplies. This emergency is what the rising groundswell of strikes is about.

As they help to navigate the nightmare maze of benefits, advisers tell working clients to claim even if they’re only entitled to £5 in universal credit, as at least that then qualifies them for other benefits: a cost of living bonus, housing benefit, council tax reduction and others. Absurdly, it can be worth earning £5 less to qualify, which is why, I’m told, the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) work coaches are increasingly told to pressure claimants to earn more – although they will then lose 55p in universal credit for every extra pound they earn. It’s effectively a 55% tax rate on extra earnings: if that’s OK for them, why not for the richest in society?

As for personal independence payments for disability, almost half are refused at first; yet the benefit is so badly administered that 70% of those who appeal to a tribunal are successful. But the backlog of claims means waiting, in dire hardship, for six months for your appeal to go through. I speak to a woman whose payments had been cut when she went into hospital for a cancer operation, but she couldn’t get them restored when she came out. “They were so rude on the phone. I’m treated like crap!” she explodes.

A man comes in to Citizens Advice whose payments were stopped when he was “sanctioned” by the DWP. He says he has no food, no phone and no electricity from his prepay meter, and is left in the cold and dark. All benefits were stopped when his online claim asked him to “verify his identity”, but he couldn’t as his phone had run out of credit. All claims are made online, and many claimants have no means of getting online besides their phone. He’d waited days, cold and hungry and in the dark, before summoning the courage to come here.

Every week, another avalanche of reports tells this story: the Office for National Statistics last week showed that 58% of people in England’s most deprived districts were spending less on food and essentials (in the least deprived areas, it’s a third). With the worst wage growth in 200 years, one in five children in key worker households are brought up below the poverty line. In a country growing rapidly poorer, its services logjammed by austerity and staff pay cuts, child poverty gallops ahead, with reports of low-paid school support staff paying from their own pockets for hungry children’s food and uniforms. The Financial Times calls this “the steepest fall in living standards on record”, with the UK the worst performer in the G20 (bar Russia). The former prime minister Gordon Brown, who did much in power to ease poverty, produces new figures showing millions are spending a third of their income on energy bills. That’s unaffordable. Lewis confirms what Citizens Advice sees: “You could put me into one of those households and do every trick in the book and I wouldn’t even get close to scratching the sides of what is needed.”

Ministers tour TV studios to say that raising strikers’ pay is “unaffordable”. But a country affords what it prioritises. George Osborne deceitfully spoke of us all being “all in it together”, but it’s a civic sentiment still to be called on in a national emergency. After remarkable passivity over years of falling wages, strikes are inevitable to reverse decades of money draining from pay packets up into grossly accumulating capital wealth. The Citizens Advice Bureau in Norwich, and branches everywhere else, can do little to resolve a nationwide crisis of working people earning less than they can survive on.

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

More Royal au pls

Y'all thought I forgot about the shorties? could never be me

~~

"Zila, Zee, Zi, Zila," Zila took a claming breath in through her nose and finally turns away from her cart of books to shelve and towards the annoyance she calls her friend.

"Yes, Finian?" She asks. Fin's dark eyes gleam a little too brightly and he seems to be infected with buzzing movement that concerned her.

"Guess who's coming to the palace next week?" he asks and she rolls her eyes.

"Guessing games aren't really your style or mine Finian. Just tell me," she says, grabbing a book and shelving it.

"Oh, only that very dashing lieutenant in the army's mounted unit that you happen to have a thing with. What was her name, Nari something?" Fin says and Zila nearly drops the book. She whirls on him aggressively.

"How do you know about that?" She asks and Fin grins harder, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the cart.

"Her highness," he says and Zila frowns.

"How does princess Scarlett know about that?" she asks. Fin shrugged.

"She caught you two in this very library last year. Never told anyone except for me. She shouldn't have really, I'm notoriously bad at avoiding teasing people, but oh well," he explains and Zila just knows she's blushing, but she doesn't say anything. "So, will you tell me about this lieutenant?" Fin asks and Zila turns back to him.

"You already know too much," she says, grabbing another book and shelving it. "Don't you have a job to be doing? Like the rest of us? Or has courting the princess made your head big?" Zila tries to deflect. Fin just grins.

"First of all, yes, courting Scarlett has made my head bigger. Second, it's after dinner, I've done all my jobs for the day. You're the only staff member who works this late in the evening. Why do you think I have so much time to bug you?" Zila sighed.

"I'm not telling you about Nari, stop being nosy and let me work," she huffs and Fin seems to finally take the hint, leaving her alone to her shelving.

But the knowledge that Nari would be at the palace the following week... that does bring a smile to her face.

~

"Hey, gorgeous," Zila turned from the shelf she was doing inventory at the voice she had so missed. Leaning in the library's doorway, looking so dashing in her uniform, was Nari Kim.

Look, Zila would never run for someone, but for Nari Kim, she basically sprints across the library into her arms.

Nari just takes it in stride, catching Zila in her arms and lifting her off her feet a little.

"Nari, hi, how did you get up here?" Zila asks, a little breathless as she is put back on her feet.

"Uh, a butler friend of yours, white hair, dark eyes, showed me up here," she says and Zila smiles and shakes her head.

"Yeah, that's Fin. He's way too invested." she says and Nari grinned and stepped closer to Zila, her hand brushing a piece of hair away from Zila's face.

"Hm, well if it makes you feel better, I am also way too invested in you," she says and then, before Zila has a chance to respond, Nari leans forward and presses her lips to Zila's.

Zila surges back into Nari, walking them until she can close the door to the library behind Nari and push her against it.

"I missed this, you," Nari whispers between kisses. ZIla grins.

"Oh you have no idea. Every day, I look at the shelf we made out against and miss you even more," she has. Nari pulls back a little and grabs her hand, dragging her into a different section of the library and pushing her against a shelf. Botany is the subject of book surrounding her, Zila notes.

"I want you to remember me all over this library," Nari says and Zila grins, pulling her girlfriend to pin her to the shelf.

~

"Okay, so to be clear, the crown princess of the country for whose military I serve, knows that I have a thing with the palace librarian?" Nari asks and Zila nods. "Damn, should I be threatened? You know how some royalty are about their property and my head is too pretty to be cut off," Nari says and Zila laughs a little.

"Nah, princess Scarlett's alright. I'm think she's more glad I'm not so lonely as I was when I first took this job. She once told me she only read so much because she thought I needed a friend, even a silent one.” Zila shrugs, leaning into Nari’s side. “But I do agree, your head is much too pretty to lose,” she says, leaning up and kissing Nari’s cheek. Nari kisses her forehead and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, you do an evening shift, right?” Nari asks after a while. Zila nods. “Tomorrow we have a showcase of the force in front of the royal family and whoever else wants to be there. I would really like if you would come and watch,” she offers and Zila considers, but really it’s not much of a choice. She sees Nari too little to give up a chance to see her more.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” she says and Nari beams, making Zila blush and laugh as Nari plants kisses all over her face.

“Love you, Madran,” Nari says. Zila blushes and puts her forehead against Nari’s.

“Love you right back, Kim,” she whispers, the quiet of the library holding their words safe.

~~

Look, Scarlett, Fin and Zila are my favourite bros, I couldn’t not.

[elfboyeros]

Class Morganite

Read the First Chapter or Read Other things in other places with the help of this

Life feels faster since getting a tour of the college, despite Rowan not really doing a lot, the week and a half have seemed to just fly by. 

Although the world around them seemed stressed, Indigo especially. Everything was secretive and hidden in whispers, Indigo was hiding in her home library carrying around a notepad or her laptop and being oddly quiet. It was or rather seemed to be all for the new year’s orientation.

Casper and Sloan came to visit, during the past week and half, mostly to see how Rowan was doing, but there was a moment where Sloan and Indigo stepped outside and talked for a rather long time. It felt odd, not knowing what was really going on, but it was also none of Rowan’s business.

Today is no different from the recent oddness, “What’s with the outfit?” the teen asked, walking in the foyer of Indigo’s home, seeing the woman dressed in a very formal outfit.

She’s in a floor-length turtleneck dress with an attached long cape, all white with golden accents. All with the addition of gold and expensive jewelry from her own personal collection.

“These are outfitting that college staff and council members have to wear to events and when we have meetings,” Indigo answered, she sounded tired which complemented the bags under her eyes.

“I thought the college’s colors were red and brown,” Rowan pondered.

“I have wondered the same thing,” Calvin chuckled, walking into the room, wearing an outfit that is more of the same, yet more masculine, more of a 3-piece white suit with a large suit coat, “As far as I know it’s just tradition.”

“Damn it,” Indigo muttered, before turning from the mirror she was in front of to look at Calvin, “Grenade, can you go get my necklace, please?”

He smiled at her, holding up her necklace, that black chained pendant with a heart-shaped ruby stone, “Already have it,” he replied as he took a place behind her, and latched her necklace around her neck.

“What’s so important about that necklace?” Rowan asked innocently, “You’re never without it.”

Indigo smiled, “It was a gift from my parents, but it also symbolizes my right in my family home,” she answered, “Child of house ruby, the stone that represents the Corals family who are descended from France.”

“All the “high nobility” houses are symbolized by gemstones, just like the classes,” Calvin explained, when Rowan looked at them confused.

“Oh, speaking of necklaces!” Indigo interjected before running off and reentering the room a few moments later, “I found this among some more of your mother’s things I had hidden away,” she started, looking down at an item in her hands, “You can have all the stuff I re-found, most of it is books and such- anyway! I want to give you this now.”

The French woman handed Rowan a velvet necklace box, watching them mostly excitedly open revealing a golden necklace, with a gold-plated circular ornament hanging from it, with a bouquet of marigolds engraved on the adornment, “It was a gift from your father to your mother, and it’s only right that you have it now.”

“Thank you,” Rowan croaked, “Thank you so much.”

The two of them shared a hug, “We need to get going,” Indigo mentioned.

Rowan and Calvin nodded before leaving their home and setting off to the college. The campus was full, not only of students, but eccentric staff members, all adorned in similar formal white and gold outfits. Stopping at the auditorium doors, fully open showcase many booths for the club, class, and pathway exhibit part of the orientation.

“We’ve got to split, kid. Why don’t you go look at the exhibits?” Calvin commented, “Maybe even make a friend or two?”

“I don’t see that happening,” Rowan retorted with a sad chuckle, "People and I don't really mix well."

“Try anyway, jellyfish,” Indigo yawned in a sad tone before she and Calvin walked out of view.

The college’s auditorium is full of a large range of unique individuals. Some looked human – whether they were or not was a different story – others were not of the human variety, that much was obvious by their insect, animal, arachnid, or “monster” appearances. Everyone is at booths or socializing, seeing friends after the winter break, or learning about the college and one of its three pathways.

It’s all a bit overwhelming.

“Maverick, look look, over there! Isn’t that who was with Calvin the other day?”

“I think so… they look lost.”

“Why don’t we go say hi.”

“Georgia, I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

“I’m gonna do it!”

Rowan hadn’t really moved since entering the hall, only moving aside so others could get past them. Then there was a tap on their shoulder that made them jump and turn around quickly. They were greeted by a feminine plus sized person, with her dark, voluptuous, curly hair, light brown eyes, and freckles covering her dark skin, enhanced by gold make-up to make her freckles shimmer. She stared off into space for a few moments before shaking her head and flashing a huge smile, “Hi, my name is Georgia, I would like to be your friend!”

“U…uhm,” Rowan sighed, confused, and overwhelmed, she felt familiar, not as if they knew her before, but more so she looked familiar.

“Ah, forgive her,” someone else remarked from a small distance, “she’s extremely extroverted.”

“Oh, come on, Maverick, I’m just trying to make a friend,” Georgia huffed with puffed cheeks and a comical frown, turning around to the masculine individual that approached from behind her.

He had pale skin, gray chin length wavy hair, and red eyes. His right eye was a lighter color than his left as there was a scar on his face spanning from his forehead to the bottom of his lower lashes. He likewise seemed familiar to them, he was wearing more academic styled clothing in a dark sweater with the college’s insignia on the front and slacks. Whereas Georgia very much seemed like a cottagecore girl in her long skirt and ruffled top.

“I’m Rowan.”

Georgia smiled, facing Rowan again and clapping her hands together, “Oh yeah, this means we’re friends now!”

“Just because you introduced yourself and told them your name doesn’t make you friends,” Maverick remarked.

“It worked with you,” Georgia fought back.

“We were children!”

Georgia huffed, “Fine, then how about this: you join us while we walk around the exhibit, and then, maybe and hopefully that will make us friends!”

“Georgia it’s obvi—”

“…I would like that,” Rowan remarked, interrupting Maverick, “I honestly don’t know where to start.”

Georgia linked arms with Rowan, “I’m assuming you’re a freshman,” they nodded, “do you know what track you wanna study?”

“Kinda,” Rowan answered unconfidently, which earned them a look from the teen girl on their arm, “…Not really.”

“Let's get you some pamphlets, and hit all the booths, maybe it will help in your decision making,” Georgia gushed, “Now let’s go onward!”

Rowan let out a slight giggle, “Could you let me go first?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Georgia laughed.

The trio walked through the auditorium, stopping by the magic, alchemy, and natural track booths before visiting the booths for the many clubs/extracurricular activities at the college, stopping by the yearbook club’s booths. “Hey, sorry, all of our freshman spots are full,” one of the booth runners mentioned.

“We’re just here to see a friend,” Georgia retorted, to which Rowan looked at the girl beside them in confusion.

A long white-haired individual emerged from the back curtain of the booth camera in hand, and dressed in feminine casual clothes, and he smiled once he locked his blue eyes with Georgia and Maverick.

“Hey guys,” his voice was more on the masculine side, nothing like his appearance. Oddly enough, he was yet another face that looked familiar.

“Hey,” Georgia said as Maverick waved, “Elias, this is Rowan, Rowan this is Elias.”

There was a small moment, where Elias looked at them, his lips parted, and he just stared, “Uhm it’s…” Elias’s voice cracked, causing him to clear his throat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Rowan replied.

“You wanna join in a quest to hit every booth, before orientation speech starts?” Georgia asked, while Elias stepped outside of the yearbook club booth, “If you’re not too busy.”

“Yes, actually,” he said with a smile, “I’ve got to take pictures of the exhibits before the speeches.”

Georgia exhaled a nonsense noise of happiness, “Onward, the great Elias, onward!”

Rowan found themself smiling, most likely due to Georgia’s happiness which seemed to be infectious, not only to themself but Elias and Maverick haven’t stopped smiling around her either. She’s bright, like the sun.

“Have you thought about what track you’re going to study?” Maverick asked as Georgia and Elias held their own conversation a few steps ahead.

Rowan could feel his stare, as they walked, he seemed anxious and shy, yet the constant staring at the back of their head, made them think he wanted to speak to them. So, why not respond, “Kind of, I really like how the natural studies looks,” Rowan answered, shuffling through the pamphlets in their hands, “I like the idea of being about to learn about both magic and alchemy before actually committing to a craft.”

Maverick nodded, “I can say from experience it’s a lot of hard work, if you make it difficult.”

“Difficult describes my whole educational career,” Rowan joked, making Maverick chuckle, “School hasn’t been much of an issue for me, if I’m honest, it was the amount of work I was doing not the subjects.”

“Lucky,” Maverick commented, “Regardless, I think you’ll be fine… you’re with Indigo and Calvin after all!”

Rowan raised their eyebrows in his direction, “How did you know I am staying with them?”

“I saw you with Calvin the other day, it looked like he was giving you a tour,” he answered, “My boyfriend also saw you, Indigo, and Calvin leave together that day, I just assumed.”

Rowan thought back to the day Indigo and Calvin took them on the tour of the college, remembering stopping and looking into the combined music and art room, seeing that small group, “OH!” they remarked loudly, “That was you guys?!”

“In the art room, yeah,” Maverick replied, “If you can’t tell Georgia caught a glance of you and hyper-fixated and was even more excited to hear you and Indigo were close.”

Rowan chuckled slightly.

“Hey, Rowan, you said you liked bugs, right? They have an insect study club!” Georgia called, before gesturing to them to follow her, which they did.

“You okay, Mave?” Elias asked, resetting his camera to take some pictures.

Maverick stood in place, eyes wide, frozen in time with a shocked expression, “…They don’t remember anything.”

“What do you mean?”

Maverick looked at Elias for a second, “Didn’t you say they looked familiar the other day?” Maverick’s voice cracked as he got the sentence out, as if he was thinking of his words as he said them.

“I mean kinda, but if they’re who I’m thinking of, I don’t expect them to remember me, we were kids after all,” Elias replied, taking a picture of one of the booths.

Maverick held a somber look, something about his facial expression said that he was upset about whatever Elias was talking about, “Don’t look so down, Maverick, it’s fine,” Elias remarked.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Maverick replied, “Where’s your brother?”

“The music club booth.”

Maverick thought for a moment as Elias continued to take pictures, “Tell Georgia I went to find him, I’ll catch up with you all later.”

“Alright, Bud—” Elias turned around to look at Maverick, only to find he was already gone, “dy… okay.”

Rowan and Georgia were still at the insect club booth when Elias rejoined the two of them. “Did you make these stuffed animals?” Georgia asked the booth runner, as she pointed to the stuffed bugs on display, some crochet, others seeming like store bought soft plushies.

“I made the crochet ones, but the others we bought online.”

“So, what do I have to do to get my hands on one of them?” Georgia questioned.

“Nothing, really.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yeah, they are incentives for signing up, but most people are just getting the shirts.”

Georgia looked towards Rowan, who was looking through one of the bug encyclopedias on one of the booth’s tables, “Can I get two? One is for my friend over there,” Georgia inquired.

The booth keeper nodded, before she grabbed a crochet bee, and a brown beetle plushie, and took it over to the jellyfish haired teen, “I hope you like beetles,” she remarked.

Rowan’s eyes lit up, “It’s so cute,” taking the very rotund boy from Georgia, “Where did you get this?”

“The booth, I got one too!” she replied, holding up the crochet bee she had picked up, “Bug buddies!”

“Bug buddies,” Rowan said with a smile.

“Hey, Elias, do you know if there’s anywhere, we could get a bag?” the teenaged girl asked, looking over at the boy who was, yet again, taking pictures, not too far from them.

“I think the conservation club is giving out free tote bags,” he answered, rejoining them.

Georgia whipped her head back and forth quickly, as if she just noticed something, “…Where’s Maverick?” 

“He went to find Nemo,” Elias said.

“Who’s Nemo?” Rowan asked.

“...My brother,” Elias replied.

Rowan hummed, as they came upon the conservation booth. They took one of the free tote bags, so Rowan could shovel all their goodies into the pale colored bag with nature designs all over it. Shortly after the group found Maverick once again, who was hand and hand with a gentleman who looked like Elias, but more masculine. Wearing all black from his ripped jeans and hoodie. His hair was the opposite of his brother’s, Nemo’s hair being quite a bit shorter & raven black, with sweeping bangs almost covering one his blue eyes.

“Rowan, Nemo. Nemo, Rowan,” Georgia introduced the two that hadn’t met yet.

“Hi,” Rowan remarked quietly.

“Hey,” Nemo grunted out.

“Could those in attendance, please make their way to the auditorium stage, orientation is about to start.”

“Oh, I wonder who’s giving the speech this year,” Georgia pondered as the little group they formed walked away from the exhibits and toward the stage.

“Probably some old dude like last year,” Nemo retorted, “so it will just be as long and boring.”

“I thought the speech was good last year,” Maverick commented.

The sound of a clearing throat filled the auditorium turning everyone’s full attention to the stage, where Duke stood at a microphoned podium, “Good morning,” he stated, “It is very pleasing to see this auditorium so full, with the Emerald class, Bauxite class and the incoming Morganite class! Today marks the start of another wonderful year here at this pillar of education, which will showcase the teachings of the brilliant staff that we have at this institution!”

On cue the staff members, with the likes of Indigo, Sloan, and Calvin, came on stage. Standing in front of designated chairs behind Duke, once everyone was on stage they sat almost in unison.

“That’s odd,” Georgia remarked.

“Huh?” Rowan whispered.

“Calvin and Indigo aren’t supposed to be sitting next to each other,” she informed in a quiet tone, “See the three chairs in the front? Those are for the head professor of each track. Calvin should be in the middle of the regular professors.”

“Huh, I wonder why he’s sitting next to her,” Rowan pondered.

“On this glorious day, you have been able to adventure around the school’s exhibits to explore the different pathways, clubs, and activities we host at this school, to ensure you have a distinguished educational career—"

Rowan looked toward Indigo, who looked a mix of tired and disgusted, as Duke spoke. Indigo bounced her legs as they were crossed. “I could continue to speak about this outstanding institution, yet it would be quite boring. Allow me to introduce Indigo Corals, the head of the magic department and a mage professor, to continue my sentiments!”

Indigo stood up from her chair to the array of mummers and gasps, taking her place at the podium adjusting the microphone before speaking, “Good morning, it must be quite shocking to see me giving this speech instead of one of my older colleagues, thankfully they wish to stay around just a little bit longer. Most likely to see if this trainwreck will end any time soon,” she speaks like she’s made from the heavens and holds a venom in her voice that sounds like it’s from hell, “I stood on this stage at the age of 18, making history as one of the youngest professors in this body, because I was “made for the role.” Many of you have had me as a professor and know that I am straight forward, this speech will be no different. This school is far from easy, and it is even more difficult if you attempt to see this as just a house of education and less of a battle for your life. I look to the Emerald class, and hope that the Goddess allows you all to make it to your graduation, and I look to the new Morganite class, hoping things will change in your favor by the time you make it to your own graduation.”

Indigo finally found Rowan for a second before looking on to the large coward which was full of mumblings and murmurings about her depressing speech, “If it wasn’t for a late friend I would not be standing before you today. I would have left this intuition in favor of life elsewhere, but it seems I am still a tiny scholar beheld to the want to learn within these blessed ivory halls, along with being a woman of history and the social sciences. Although I wish my dear departed friend was here,” she looked at Rowan once again, “for you.”

Then she continued, “And yet, I stand here, glad that she doesn’t have to see the continued horrors that still happen in these pearl halls!” Indigo looked at Duke who was very displeased by her words, “If only you weren’t at fault,” she looked back at. that the crowd, “I hope you all have the opportunity to experience the best education, as you deserve it, and I hope to see some of your faces in my classroom, ready and willing to learn, thank you for your time.”

Indigo made it back to her chair forgoing sitting up straight, feeling Calvin’s hand lace in hers, before he kissed her knuckles, “Tu t'es bien débrouillée, yeux d'ange, je suis fière de toi,” he muttered against her hand before she leaned close to him from her chair.

“Rowan? Are you okay,” Georgia queried.

“Uh-muh?”

“Rowan, you’re crying.”

Rowan touched their cheeks, soaked by their tears, “Huh? ...I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

They wiped their tears, before half listening to the rest of the orientation. Once the orientation concluded, everyone shuffled towards the exits of the auditorium, where Rowan waited for Indigo and Calvin so they could all go home.

“You don’t have to stay here with me,” they mentioned, looking over at the chubby girl standing next to them against the wall, “You can find your friends.”

“Nah,” Georgia sighed, staring at the floor, “Maverick is helping the art club take down their booth, Elias is going to develop his pictures from today, and Nemo’s probably went to the music room to play piano. Until Maverick is done, I’m basically on my own.”

“Oh, well thank you, for helping me get around today,” Rowan replied as she looked up at them.

“No problem,” Georgia said with a smile, “Does this make us friends now?”

They thought for a moment, “Yeah,” they said with a nod.

“Yippee,” she squealed, before turning her body towards them, “Can I see your phone?”

“Uhm… sure,” they replied, handing over their phone.

“You should really put a password on your phone, anyway,” Georgia typed on their phone a few minutes before handing them back their phone and typing on her own, “There you go! Now we have each other’s numbers, so if we have classes together this semester, we can exchange notes!”

Rowan laughed slightly, “Thank you,” before feeling fur against their ankles, seeing Hecate looking up at them, when they looked down.

“Hey, kiddo,” Calvin’s voice called, grabbing Rowan’s attention, they turned around to see Indigo, even more tired than before and the healer in question, walking towards them, “Ready to go home? …Oh, hi Georgia.”

Georgia waved, “I’ll see you later, Ro,” she said.

“See ya’ later,” Rowan remarked as Georgia reentered the auditorium.

“Mhm, you’ve gotten all kinds of goodies,” Indigo muttered as they all walked towards an exit.

“Yeah,” Rowan chuckled, looking down at the tote bag in their hand.

Once back home, Indigo had already begun pulling all the ornate bobbles off her clothing and her hair, huffing, and heading elsewhere in the house, assumingly to her room. 

“How about you just chill for a few?” Calvin suggested to Rowan, “I…”

“Yeah, I understand,” Rowan replied with a nod, before watching him walk away.

Rowan may not fully understand the inner workings of their guardians’ relationship, but it was cute, from the outside looking in.

They headed to the kitchen for a small snack and then headed to their bedroom, they took out all of their little goodies from the cutely designed tote bag. They placed their lovely stuffed beetle friend on their bed first before continuing to unpack the bag.

“Angel eyes,” Calvin muttered while entering their bedroom, seeing Indigo’s orientation clothes discarded on the floor, leaving her in a soft underclothing in her flopped position on their large bed, “what would you like for dinner?”

“Uhm, shrimp pasta,” she slurred, moving from laying on her stomach to lay on her side to look at Calvin.

“Just shrimp pasta?” he asked, stripping himself off his many layers, so he was just in the white shirt and pants of his outfit, “Nothing special about it.”

“…Just the shrimp pasta you always make,” Indigo answered, while he leaned over her kissing her cheek multiple times, “Papa said he and Mère made croissants today, he left them in the bread box. We also need bread when you go out tomorrow.”

“Okay, angel,” Calvin cooed, against her cheek, “anything else?”

“I love you,” she slurred, holding his face in her hands, “I would be falling apart if you weren’t here, thank you, you could be anywhere and with anyone, and you’re here. With me, in this chaos.”

“I love you too, sweet girl,” he replied, “I’m always going to be here, only for you, I don’t want to be anywhere else. Even in all the chaos there is you.”

They kissed each other softly, before Calvin pulled away, “I’ll bring you, your food, angel,” he mentioned before heading from the door, “Wait! …Isn’t Rowan allergic to shrimp?”

“Non, they’re allergic to oysters,” Indigo slurred into her pillow.

“Got it,” Calvin said as he headed for the kitchen, hearing dings from a phone, coming from Rowan’s room.

Georgia ☀️👁️ as added you to “Arts Club🎨🎼”

Georgia☀️👁️: everyone say hi to Rowan, they are friend now!

Maverick🎨🎒: Hi to Rowan

Nemo🎹🩹: Georgia come on!

Georgia☀️👁️: They said that we were friends, so I invited them to our group!

Elias📷👗: hi Rowan ☺️

Somehow all of the people they had met hours earlier are now all in their contacts, symbolized by specific emojis and Rowan smiled looking at the few texts that were sent.

Rowan: hi guys 😁 thank you for being so nice today.

Georgia☀️👁️: you don’t have to thank us Georgia☀️👁️: now quick two emojis that describe you!

The semester may not be as bad as their anxiety was making it out to be!

[oldsalempost-blog]

The Old Salem Post

Our  Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays          Contact: theoldsalempost@gmail.com                                                    Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library.                                             Volume 7 Issue 5                                                                                                  Week of December 19,  2022                https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog                                                         Lynne Martin Publishing

EDITOR:  This will be the closing issue of Old Salem Post for the 2022 year. Our staff will enjoy the next two Mondays for the holidays and will be refreshed to see what 2023 has in store.  The older I get the faster it goes.  And, I have a lot I would like to accomplish in the New Year! Lord Willing!  I hope and pray you and your family have wonderful moments together. Cherish the time!   LRMartin                                                                                  

TOWN OF SALEM: We will close Dec 21, at 12noon until Dec 28, 8am.   *Downtown Market every Sat. 8am-12pm.  Place a memory ornament for your loved ones  on the Town tree all month long.  Next Town Council meeting Jan 17, 2023.                                              

.                                            ASHTON RECALLS        By Ashton Hester                COMMUNITY WELL SERVED RURAL SALEM RESIDENTS - (Last week I posted  a story written by Doris Rogers in 1977 regarding the death of Erby Bennett's mule, which he had owned for 40 years. Following is another story by Doris, in which Mr. Bennett was also involved. It was in the January 12, 1977 issue of the Keowee Courier. Due to its length, I am only posting half of the story this week and will post the second half next week). . .Days were lazy back then, especially summer days. . .Early in the morning on those summer days people of the Fall Creek community above Salem came to the community well to get their water for the day. Water to drink, water to cook with, for washing clothes, cars, for bathing and for watering the animals. . .And as they waited their turn at the windlass, the people dreamed and shared their hopes for the future. . .In 1935 this well was dug by the three Bennett boys, Vondiver, Erby and Oliver, and their friend Tommy Hancock. By hand, with picks, shovels, ropes and buckets, they worked their way down 55 feet to what was and still is the best-tasting water in the area. . .Over the years 15 families have been serviced by the community well--eight families at one time--which still has the original windlass. There in Bennettsville, Route 2, Salem, stands the provider and old friend, which now has a new cement-block box. . .Several times new residents wanted to put pumps into the well to prevent walking and carrying their buckets of water, but the two older Bennett men wouldn't allow it. Their reasoning was that unequal consumption would result in unfair advantages and would eventually leave the well dry. . .TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK      

JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC)& COFFEE SHOP13412 N Hwy 11 Open WED-BLUE GRASS JAM 6:30pm-9pm –THURS:  OLD TIME JAM.   Fri–8am-9.  Call 864-873-0048    CLOSED  Sat and Sun :  CLOSED CHRISTMAS EVE and CHRISTMAS DAY.  MERRY CHRISTMAS!

ADVENT SEASON: The 4th Advent Candle was lit on Sunday: The candle of Peace for all mankind.   On Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, the white center candle of Christ will be lit to welcome the Christ Child, Emanuel, God with us.  

SHARING:  Recently, I stood on my porch and looked at some maple trees I planted, from one gallon cans.  They are huge now.  Mixed with them now are oaks, pines, cedars and dogwoods.  All of the trees have a foliage that is green, but different shades of green depending on the season. We must take time during our busy lives and enjoy the wonders of Nature, God created.  Let us be thankful during this time as we celebrate the arrival of Jesus Christ,            AMARTIN    

O HOLY NIGHT:   The beloved Christmas song “O Holy Night” was banned from churches in 1847 because the poem was written by an atheist and French poet, Placide Cappeau, and composed by a Jew, Adolphe Adam.  Imagine the feelings you would never have experienced if that song of unity and serenity of Christ’s birth had never been heard.  The story is told in the Franco-Prussian War of 1871, a French soldier started singing “O Holy Night” on Christmas Eve. In the middle of battle, the soldier stood up, unarmed from his trench and faced the Germans as he began singing the hymn. Germans in return sang a carol of their own language. The war ceased for 24 hours, and soldiers from both camps celebrated Christmas before returning to battle.  Since 1933 the cherished hymn has gained wide acceptance.                                    

JOTTINGS BY JEANNIE:  Wreaths Across America; Remember, HONOR, TEACH  After your family has enjoyed opening presents and savoring the holiday meal take a stroll through Salem United Methodist's cemetery. This year we are honoring our veterans by decorating their graves with Maine-grown Balsam Wreaths decorated with red velvet bows. Debbie Kimbrell, Patsy Earnhardt and I have been working on this project since August. As the wreaths are being placed on graves, I have the honor of reading the veterans names, ensuring that their legacy of duty, service, and sacrifice  is never forgotten. You Queens of Isaqueena! You Kings of Keowee! Wishing you JOY at Christmas and Always! MIZ JEANNIE                                                                                     

 EAGLES NEST ART CENTER , 501c3, 4 Eagle Lane, Salem                                                                                                                                                              Christmas Gift Idea:  Name a Seat in the Eagles Nest Auditorium is now open to the general public and community.  Single person, $200, Family or couples, $250.  Contact eaglesnestartcenter@gmail.com or Darlene 864-710-8758.  Let ENAC hang a Memory Ornament for you on the Tree Downtown Salem for $10.    Or, give a donation to honor or in memory of a loved one.                                    STRING LESSONS?: $10 each group class. Contact  eaglesnestartcenter@gmail.com or 864-280-1258.   Give a  Gift of Music!          ENAC REGULAR meeting Monday, January 2, 2023  at 5pm.                              UPCOMING PERFORMANCES IN 2023:                                                              MOUNTAIN FAITH BAND:  ENAC welcomes this family Bluegrass/Gospel band from Sylvia, N.C.  On JAN.14 at 7PM TICKETS $20   Available at the Town of Salem or call 864-280-1258.                                                        

 OCONEE MOUNTAIN OPRY JAN. 21 TICKETS $10.                                                                                                               

WOMEN ENCOURAGING WOMEN: FEB. 21 1PM-4PM  A Love Offering will be taken.  * This is a wonderful event for our local churches to help sponsor. *

ARE YOU IN NEED OF A COAT OR SOCKS?   Call Missy at  864-944-8732        Community Food Bank through local churches. No one should be hungry for food or love:  Contact Teresa and James Barker  at 944-0258                          

GOLDEN CORNER FOOD PANTRY:  Tamassee-Salem mobile food pantry.  Pick up at Salem First Baptist Church second Saturday each month.  10am-12pm .  Anyone on EBT ( food stamps) will automatically apply.  Call for more information  the Golden Corner Food Pantry 864-882-3610.                                        

WEDDINGS AT TAMASSEE:  BRIDE-TO-BE TEA PARTY.  TOUR OUR VENUE OPTIONS.  VISIT WITH WEDDING VENDORS.  REFRESHMENTS PROVIDED.  SUNDAY, JANUARY 8, 2023 3PM-5PM, SOUTH CAROLINA COTTAGE.  COST $10 BRIDE AND 1 GUEST.  REGISTER BY CALLING 864-944-1390                                                                              

Christmas Gift Ideas:  Give your burdens to God.  Then give  lots of Love, Hugs and Smiles so they can be returned anytime!    

                                                                                                                             Check on your neighbor!  Stay warm!         LRM