#( and the meds made everything a thousand times worse )

[inmirova]

feels like the universe (trans people I follow on tumblr dot com) is telling me I should get into tf2 again to spite my ex who tried to convince me playing it meant I was apparently cool with white supremacy somehow

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Till the Last Drop

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Mature

Summary: Commissioned by @dahvampire. Enji kicked him out on the street when he was eighteen, and Dabi was lucky enough to make good friends who helped get him back on his feet. But he can't help thinking every day that he will lose it all again, thoughts that only get worse when he starts dating Tomura Shigaraki. He doesn't know if he's had anything that has made him so happy, and the fear of it falling apart never ebbs.

Contents: Coffee Shop AU, No Heroes/Villains, Yes Quirks, mentions of Sexual Content

Wordcount: 8,327

The Last Drop Cafe is probably the only reason Dabi hadn't wound up in jail after his father kicked him out of the house. The fact that he'd set himself an a mountain on fire at twelve trying to just get his father to pay even a scrap of attention to him after his quirk proved to be so unstable, wound up in a coma until he was fifteen, and then needed to spend the following three years resuming his education and getting expensive treatments just to keep him alive, made him the disgrace of the Todorokis and a black spot that Enji wanted out of his house and away from his name as quickly as possible. On his eighteenth birthday, he had called Dabi into his home office offered him a single backpack, ten thousand yen, and the ability to leave that night while his siblings were setting things up for his birthday party, because if he left then and never contacted his siblings again, then Enji wouldn't also cut them off when they were of age. Fuyumi was already applying for colleges so she could become a teacher. Natsuo wanted to be a doctor. Sho was too young to have things worked out yet, but he didn't want to be the one responsible for him knowing that he would be penniless and on the streets the day he turned eighteen. He didn't even take the money. He just left with the clothes on his back and tried to make it work. His phone worked for a couple of days after he'd been kicked out, and he looked up every place that said that they gave help or housing to people who needed it. He sold his bricked phone at an electronics shop and followed some guides on what necessities to get upon being made newly homeless, and spent six months floating around trying to find something. 

Last Drop was on the list of places that would give people a free sandwich and drink each afternoon. Magne had been working the first day there and had given him the meal and he'd slunk out of the building, not wanting to have to have people looking at him in broad daylight when he knew his scars had worsened so much, the coloration getting darker and more purply now that he was not getting the medicine he'd been using before to try and keep them light and healing. Atsuhiro, the owner, had been there the next when he'd come back, and he'd asked Dabi to sit in one of the corner booths with him and talk. He hadn't been too pushy, but when he knew how old Dabi was, how abruptly he'd found himself like this, he'd told him about the apartment above the shop. It constantly smells like coffee and pastries, and was barely up to code, but it could be his. A job could be his too if he wanted it, until he figured out everything else. Dabi didn't have any other options, so he agreed. Magne had taken him out to get some new clothes and sheets for the air mattress that they'd pulled out of the closet for him, and he'd been able to shower and sit on the bed alone and safe for the first time in a three months and he finally burst into tears as he let himself actually feel what he'd lost. 

He hasn't spoken to his siblings since he left. He knows that Enji sent Fuyumi to a good college, one that she'll never be able to pay back on her own on a teacher's salary. He knows that Natsuo is in college now too, guesses that he's going to med school as soon as he can. Maybe someday he'll be able to sever ties with their father, but Dabi doesn't know for certain. He doesn't know what's going to happen to Shoto, but he was always Enji's favorite. He won't ever be able to take his claws out from his skin. Dabi does his best to not look into how their lives are going, because even now, even six years later, he still wants to go back to them. He still wants to tell them that he's still alive, that he didn't just run away and abandon them for no reason. So he can't look, because he doesn't want to ruin everything they are. 

Besides, Atsuhiro, Magne, and Jin are good to him, good friends. He's been working at Last Drop since the day that Atsuhiro let him in, and things are different now. He didn't feel like he belonged here, like he was anything other than a lucky charity case for three years. He got good at this job, he knows how to make almost every strange coffee or tea that's requested of him just from practice and memorization alone, but then he'd taken some of the money he'd been making and bought the ingredients to try and make his mom's black sesame cookies from scratch. He hadn't thought they would be worthy of selling, he was mostly just missing his siblings and wanting to give something back to Atsuhiro for taking him in. But he liked them. He asked him to make another batch and he'd had him do it down in the cafe's kitchen instead of his own. He'd made two dozen and they'd put them in the display case with the other pastries, and by the end of the day they were gone. Dabi thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn't. Atsuhiro showed him how to make scones and asked him to make another batch of his cookies. They sold out faster than they did the first day, and slowly but surely, Dabi took over working in the bakery, taking the early to mid-morning shift to get all of their pastries ready, and being in charge of developing new ones as their menu expanded over time. 

Last Drop is a home, a better one than he could have asked for coming from the one he'd had, and one that he doesn't mind also being his job-- even if that means he has to get up at four AM every day to start baking. 

///

Dabi is usually getting the last tray of baked goods into the case as Atsuhiro finishes grinding the beans for the day fifteen minutes before opening. After that it is a mad rush of the two of them moving around the space to keep up with orders through their morning rush. And then the lull going into the afternoon. Dabi's shift technically ends at noon, but he usually sticks around in the cafe anyway after Magne and Jin come to relieve he and Atsuhiro, mainly because he doesn't have anything else better to do. 

He usually drags a stool over from one of their tall tables and sits next to the dessert case so that he's mostly out of the way and chit-chats with the others, and that's what he's doing again when the bell over the door rings and in comes a high school girl. She's probably a first or second year, wearing a pale pinkish coat and red scarf, her hair tied up into two messy buns. She goes up to the counter, tucking her nose down into her scarf, and speaking up so that Magne can hear her through the fabric. 

"Hi," 

"Hello, what can I get for you, hun?" Magne asks. 

"Can I have a small latte and a raspberry danish, please?" 

"Sure thing, for here or to-go?"

"Uh, here, please." She pays, and Dabi is sitting right next to the case so he grabs the plate and puts the danish on even though it earns him a swat across the back of his head since he's not technically supposed to be working. The latte is quick to make and the young lady has selected a booth in the far back corner, facing away from the door. She's practically invisible to the rest of the bar, and when Magne looks back up from making her drink, she almost misses her. Another customer comes through the door, and Dabi takes the saucer and plate from her before she can protest, and heads over to the table. 

"Here you go, enjoy." He sets them down in front of her as she jumps, looking up from her backpack. "We have free wi-fi too, the login is on that card," he gestures at the miniature menu board that is pushed up against the wall. 

"Oh, thanks," She pulls her scarf up as she speaks, but Dabi lets it go. Maybe her mouth is affected by her quirk. It's not like he can't recognize being self-conscious about something like that. He leaves her be, and she covers her mouth whenever she eats anything, staying for a few hours as she does her homework. It's after dark by the time she goes home, but they don't comment on it, just keeping an eye. 

She comes back the next day, and the day after that. She orders a different pastry every day, gets her coffee, and then goes and hides in the back booth to do her homework. It takes two weeks before he, Magne, and Jin rock-paper-scissors to see who's going to go and actually check to see if she's alright, and Jin loses. It's probably a good thing it's him. He's got a massive scar across his face from a motorcycling accident, but it's not as gruesome or scary as all of Dabi is, and Magne, while she's a big teddy bear, she is still a bear and her anger is truly something to behold. Jin is a golden retriever, and he sits down, ready to ply her with a fresh pastry, and within the next hour she's laughing, and by the time she's left for the night they know that her name is Himiko Toga and that her quirk has made her an outcast. Her family is always happier when she's not home, and she doesn't have any real friends because they think she's strange no matter how she acts at school. She wants to go to high school in Tokyo. One of her neighbors who had similar problems but was three years older than her just finished his last year at a good school where he didn't have the same problems, but she has to be able to pay her way there because her parents won't help her. She's been studying hard to get a scholarship, but her test scores aren't good enough for that. So instead she's starting to look for jobs. 

Atsuhiro meets her the next day, and by the following weekend, she's behind the counter with him and Magne learning the ropes. 

///

Toga has been working with them for about a month, usually coming in right after her classes end and staying for four hours on weekdays, and six hour shifts over the weekend. She wants to get up to eight hours, but they want to take it up slowly. It does mean that Magne and Jin actually get a little more time off now that they have someone else working here, and Toga is actually taking to the work incredibly well. She talks to more people now than she ever did at school, and seeing how many people don't even notice her teeth so long as she's giving them their coffee, means that she is coming out of her shell more and more. She's a ray of sunshine, just as loud and bright as the others, and able to toe-to-toe with him in viciousness and trading insults when they're in the mood for it. She fits in perfectly, but she is not supposed to come in early for her shifts on the weekend. 

"Oy," he says as he takes out the tray of scones from the oven, "You're early." 

"I'm going to sit on my ass and eat your cooking fresh until it's time to clock in." She tells him brightly, not punching her time card, and hanging up her coat and scarf. She's practically bouncing on her toes. 

"What's got you so excited?" 

"My friends have a tournament in town this afternoon, so they said they would come by to see me during my break!" 

"That's not going to be for hours," he says with moderate exasperation as he smacks her hand away from the tray of croissants before she burns her fingers into nothing. 

"I know!" But her spirit isn't dimmed so he just rolls his eyes and keeps on with his prep as she starts up a stream of chatter. 

///

It's at their eleven thirty lull when their bell rings again. Dabi is pulling a double for Magne because she had to move her doctor's appointment for today if she wants to stay on schedule for her estrogen, and it's not like he doesn't live here. So he's chatting with Toga, leaning against one of the counters and debating if he's going to have his third espresso shot of the day, when the bell rings and two guys, maybe a few years younger than him, walk in. The heteromorphic reptile-person with purple hair and green scales stands out immediately, but the guy behind him isn't bad to look at. Long white hair that's half tied back from his face, pale skin, bright red eyes, and interesting markings around his eyes and lips that Dabi is guessing are from his quirk. They barely get in the door before Toga is practically hopping the bar and rushing over to them. 

"You're here!" She nearly knocks them off their feet when she tries to hug them both at once without having slowed down before reaching them at all. 

The lizard grunts and the pale one yanks his hands back and away from their bodies, a flicker of panic going across his face, his thumb curled in tight against his palm. "Toga, be careful, I don't have my gloves." Must have a quirk that is touch activated then. 

"Oh, sorry, Shiggy. Why not?" 

"New rules. They want to check them to see if they meet regulations." The guy says, his voice a low rasp. 

"That's stupid." 

"It is. But we thought you were working?" The lizard guy says. "Come on, can't be at peak performance without having more caffeine in our veins than blood." 

"Right!" Toga turns back to the counter, pulling the two older men along with her. "Welcome to Last Drop, what can I get you? We don't have energy drinks," she says very pointedly to them. They both get an Americano with a double shot of espresso, and Dabi lets her ring them up as he goes over to start on the actual coffee. She's already going a mile a minute as she starts to ring them up. "You should try a pastry! Dabi makes them fresh every morning." 

The lizard picks out his sesame cookies, and the other guy declines, "You know I don't like sweets." 

Dabi can't help snorting at that as he turns back with the first coffee. He doesn't mean to catch red eyes watching him. 

"I'm sure they're good--" he tries to backtrack, clearly guessing who he is. 

"No, it's funny because I don't like sweet things either." 

"He's just weird." Toga agrees. "Dabi, this is Tomura Shigaraki and Shuichi Iguchi." 

"Nice to meet you." 

"Hey, man." 

She gets their money, both of them dropping nearly the same amount in their tip jar, and she plates the cookies as he finishes with their coffee. As soon as she's passed over their order, she turns to him, "I'm going on my break!" 

"Go clock out you little gremlin!" He orders. She sticks her tongue out at him but does actually duck into the kitchen to do as she's told. He rolls his eyes and finds that he's not the only one, though he's a little surprised to see Iguchi doing it at his friend before he goes over to one of the empty booths. Dabi's not entirely sure what he did to warrant that response, but he goes back to work as Toga comes out from the kitchen to go sit with her friends. He's glad that she has friends other than them. It's pretty quiet today, so he makes her a cappuccino with way too much extra sugar and syrups in it, and gets her one of the miniature strawberry cream cakes that they're going to be retiring until strawberries are back in season. He also brings three forks. 

"Thanks Dabi!" Toga beams at him, because she doesn't hide her teeth anymore, and Dabi deliberately sets down the forks too, meeting red eyes with a smug smirk. Sure it's probably a bad look to mock a new customer, but on the other hand, it's very, very fun to poke so harmlessly at someone. 

He leaves them to catch up for her break, Toga taking her lunch while he deals with whatever trickle of customers come in and out until Jin's shift. When he gets in, Dabi goes and clocks out, hanging up his apron. He comes back out to, not sure if he wants to just spend all of his time hanging out up in his apartment this weekend, and finds that Toga is getting back to work, and that only Shigaraki is still inside, Iguchi waiting outside of the cafe doors as he taps on his phone. Toga giggles as soon as she sees him, which tells Dabi immediately that he's in danger, but before he can do anything about that, Shigaraki is coming up to him. 

"I hope this isn't too inappropriate," He braces for something wildly inappropriate to be said to him. "But I was wondering if I could get the recipe for that cake?" 

"Oh," Dabi blinks, "Oh, uh sure. God, that was not what I thought you were going to say." 

"That's because I chickened out about asking you on a date halfway through." Shigaraki gives him a rueful smile, and that is definitely not the smoothest way to ask someone out, but Dabi is pretty sure he would have done worse since he's never asked anyone out or been asked out before. 

It's probably not the correct response for him to let out a snort of laughter though. That probably doesn't do the other man's ego any favors. "Did you even like the cake?" 

"Not even remotely, which is no reflection on your baking skills. As far as I can tell, it was the perfect cake. But perfect is always going to be mediocre if you don't like whatever it is in the first place." 

"Okay, so what do you like?" 

"Video games, my friends, people watching, getting a more direct answer when I ask someone out so I know if I should be making a swift exit." 

"Ask me a direct question and I'll give you a direct answer." 

Shigaraki doesn't get annoyed with his attitude, his lips curling up into a smile that makes his whole face softer. "I have a tournament to get to, would you like to come watch if you're not already busy for the rest of the day? And afterward, when I win, I would like to take you out on a date if you're interested?" 

"That sure you're going to win?" 

"More sure about that than I am your answer." 

Dabi isn't sure about his answer either. This is a first, and he doesn't know if he should have his first date with one of Toga's few other friends. If it goes badly, he doesn't want her to end up caught in the crossfire. But... he's having fun bantering with Shigaraki. And he's never been to a sporting event before. He doesn't even know what he plays, he definitely doesn't look very imposing in his black skinny jeans, long-sleeved black shirt, red tennis shoes, and red coat. 

"Yeah, okay. You still want to pretend to want that cake recipe so I can go change?" He is never going to say that coffee and pastries smell bad, but he does typically try not to walk around radiating that smell in all directions once his shift is over. 

"No, but I can give you my number. We have to be at the venue early for registration and check-in, our part of the tournament doesn't start for another four hours. Toga's heading over after her shift, if you want to join her for the walk. And that way, if you change your mind, there's no obligation." 

Dabi appreciates that and hands over his phone so the other man can put in his number. "Okay, you better win though, because I'm not into cocky guys who can't deliver."

He sees a little heat go into those red eyes, something that makes Dabi think that maybe this guy will be able to hold up against his attitude. "I always deliver." 

"We'll see about that. You should probably go, your friend's waiting." He hands back his phone.

"Yeah, any dietary restrictions I should know about, other than being a baker who doesn't like sweets?" 

"I don't do fish." 

"No fish, no sweets, got it. I hope that I see you later." Shigaraki doesn't linger after that, turning to go meet his other friend outside, and Dabi watches him go, a little surprised with himself for handling that and agreeing to go out with him. 

And then out of the corner of his eye he sees Jin and Toga leaning against the display case and counter respectively, both of them with shit-eating grins. 

"Aww, ain't that cute," Jin mocks. 

"This is so exciting! You should wear your leather pants, oh and the fishnet shirt, and you should wear the nipple rings instead of the studs!" 

"One, fuck you, two, you're fifteen, stop having an opinion on my body jewelry." 

"Eyeliner too! I'll do it for you! It makes your eyes look so pretty!" 

"I fucking hate you." 

///

Dabi goes for his favorite boots, a distressed pair of black skinny jeans, a dark wash gray shirt tucked at the front to show one of his studded belts, and his favorite tattered leather duster that he got in a charity shop and has been holding onto no matter how badly frayed the ends keep getting, fixing any wear at the shoulders and elbows to keep it looking artfully worn even though he's pretty sure the coat is older than him. He does wear his eyeliner though. Toga's right, it makes his eyes pop. 

When her shift ends, she's practically bouncing as she gets him out the door and into a taxi to drive them to the... concert hall? He's about to ask what the hell kind of sporting event this is, when he sees the banner that has been posted above the doors. An esports tournament. Dabi has never been asked if he thinks that esports are a sport or not, but he supposes that it doesn't matter when he's here now. Besides, Toga knows where to go and brings them to a much, much shorter line to get in, Dabi half-stunned by the lines that have formed to get in, massive screens already set up outside of the building playing highlight reels of the games that have already happened to keep the people who haven't gotten in yet entertained as they wait. But they go right over to the VIP line and she hands over her ID and tells them that they're special guests of Iguchi and Shigaraki. 

It takes all of five minutes for them to have VIP wristbands, badges, a gift bag provided by a few of the sponsors, and an escort inside because they're allowed into a special viewing booth if they don't want to sit right down in the front row by the stage. They opt for the stage and when they're shown to their seats, whatever game was happening before Shigaraki and Iguchi's is still going on, so they sit and start to watch that, Dabi turning to Toga and saying, 

"I do not know shit about esports. What the fuck do I need to so that I don't embarrass myself?" 

Toga gives him the basics of the game that Shigaraki and Iguchi will be playing as they wait for things to get started. Teams of two, essentially virtual capture the flag, getting killed doesn't mean they're down for the count, it just means that they have to wait to respawn and after three kills, they're out of the game completely. If they get all the way through this tournament then they'll get two million yen. And this won't even be the first one that they've participated in, having done two before this that earned them enough money to pay through their first year of university and rent a substantial apartment near the campus. 

Dabi can't say that he fully knows what's going on throughout the many games that they watch, staying for nearly six hours as their team wins match after match. He barely gets it, but he's as on the edge of his seat as Toga is when the last match comes and Shigaraki's avatar dies and is eliminated when he blocks the other team's shot so that Iguchi's avatar can hold the point for the last couple of seconds that he needs to in order to secure it and win the match. Toga jumps up, pulling him with her, as the announcers start to rattle off their things and the crowd cheers. A massive thing of confetti goes off and showers the stands and stage with bits of the colorful paper. 

When the stands start to clear out, and Shigaraki and Iguchi have disappeared for their other post-tournament obligations, he and Toga are taken into a VIP lounge to wait for them. She's bouncing, thrilled that her friends won, and he's wondering if he should have worn something less casual for a dinner date with a guy who can make two million yen in a day. But when Shigaraki and Iguchi come to find them, they accept their congratulations from him and hugs from Toga, before Shigaraki turns to him and says, 

"I know a great tsukemen place near here, if you still want to get dinner." 

"How can I say no? You backed up the cockiness flawlessly." It earns him another smile, and Iguchi only rolls his eyes as Toga waves them off with a grin. 

///

Dinner is at a little hole-in-the-wall place with a cozy atmosphere where Dabi is served the best tsukemen that he has ever had in his life. They spend the entire meal chit-chatting, just getting to know each other. Dabi finds out that Shigaraki was adopted at age five after an earthquake leveled his family home, he's been gaming since he was seven, when a console was the first Christmas present his adoptive father got him once the papers were finalized, that he's actually pretty pessimistic about society as a whole, and that he literally destroys anything he touches with his quirk. Dabi tells him that he doesn't have any family he’s in contact with, he started baking and cooking when he was around five because it was the only chore he did that actually made him feel useful, that he thinks that the world is kind of shit too, but there are a few good people who make it worth it, and that he can burn anything to a crisp-- even himself. Most of it is pretty casual first-date kinds of things, and it's going well enough. They can talk to each other, it's even kind of fun. It's just that Dabi feels out of his depth and isn't about to own up to his inexperience. When they're finished, Shigaraki offers to take him home, and Dabi accepts that, the two of them grabbing a taxi and going back to the cafe. 

He invites the other inside with a slightly sadistic, "Come on, we skipped dessert," and unlocks the cafe. There are only a few things that he saves between days, and biscotti is one of them. Shigaraki has no fear of caffeine this late, and Dabi makes them both a cappuccino to enjoy with it, before they're sitting at one of the booths. 

"So why engineering and business?" He never went to college of course, but it does seem less exciting than making money streaming, going to tournaments, and apparently starting to do sponsorship ads the way Shigaraki does in his free time. 

"My father. When Spinner and I wanted to enter our first tournament, we wanted to go in on one of the bigger, more established ones, not the ones for amateurs. The one we wanted had an entry fee of three hundred thousand yen for teams without managers or an agency, which we couldn't get unless we auditioned, entered a training program, and all of this other shit that we didn't want to do and didn't have time for before graduation and our college entrance exams. Spinner wanted out of his family's house because his quirk was a random heteromorphic mutation and they never treated him very well, and I wanted to help, but my father doesn't believe in 'charity'." 

"So I made a deal with him, he would spot us the entry fee and in exchange he could pick my major and minor that I would get regardless of if we won, and give me a month of not meddling so that we could get our shit together so we could actually get past the qualifiers." He shrugs. "We won, but I'm locked in for four years, and Spinner used his cut of the money to come with me." 

"Kind of a dick move-- on your father's part, if you ask me." 

Shigaraki shrugs, "He wants me to succeed and be happy, but he doesn't always get that how he wants me to do it isn't going to work for me. Was your dad shit?" 

"Absolutely. Kicked me out at eighteen without warning and told me that if I ever caused him trouble he would--" he tries to remember what he told the others when they took him in, "Destroy someone I care about." 

"Absolutely a dick move." Shigaraki echoes his sentiment. "Did you ever get back in contact with them?" 

"No, he could still do it, and he will. They're better off without me around. I hope they have a good life." It's a little too heavy for a first date, he thinks, so he picks up one of the biscotti and dunks it in his coffee, letting them defuse the tension as Shigaraki follows his lead. They both take a bite once it's softened enough to not break their teeth, and when their mouths aren't full, "What do you think?" 

"It's not as sweet as the cake." Shigaraki says with true, perfect neutrality that makes Dabi laugh. 

"I'm going to find something that you like. Everyone has something." 

"Does that mean that I get to see more of you?" 

Oh. Dabi feels a flush trying to rise to his cheeks, but he's not about to be cowed or fumble this again. "You might get to see all of me tonight if you don't have any problems being kicked out at three AM, or sitting down here while I bake. My shift starts at four." He doesn't know what the etiquette for dating is, but he does know how to have a memorable hookup. 

"Maybe we should hold off then," Disappointment slips in. He had almost forgotten about his scars from how openly and readily Shigaraki had been flirting with him before. But maybe he needs more time to work himself up to see more of his fucked up skin. "I don't want to keep you up all night and have you burn down the cafe during your shift." 

Relief goes through him as he snorts. "Cocky." 

It earns him more smoldering red eyes and a small smile that screams with his overconfidence. "I've already proven once today that I can live up to it." 

"It's a coffee shop." Dabi says, pushing himself up from the table. "I'll have a drink if I'm sleepy." 

Shigaraki doesn't protest any as he stands as well, following Dabi upstairs to his apartment. 

Dabi didn't anticipate how no sleep, three orgasms, and being sore from taking the biggest cock up his ass he's ever had was going to affect his shift the next day, but Magne and Atsuhiro have a very, very good laugh over it when they see Tomura leaving just before they clock in. 

///

Tomura was Dabi's first date, but he's also his second, third, fourth, until it's really really obvious that they're dating. That he has a boyfriend now. He didn't think he'd ever have a home, friends, security, or companionship in his life, but he has all of them. 

And throughout the first month and a half of his and Tomura's relationship, he's expecting them all to disappear. 

It's a thought that comes to him the first time he's over at Shig and Spinner's apartment in the mid afternoon, when Duster comes back between classes, Spinner's still at his, and they fuck with the lights on for the first time. It's when he's certain that no matter what else they've done in the dark, that the moment that Tomura really sees him like this, that he's going to realize how disgusting he is and dump him. But he doesn't. He kisses his skin the same way he always does, teases him for how sensitive he always is, makes him cum so hard that he accidentally sets off the smoke alarms. They go out to dinner later and he heads back to the cafe since his shift is so early, half expecting him to block his number and ghost him completely. 

But Tomura comes by in two days while he's running around-- he and Spinner are actually getting sponsors and management companies who want them now-- to let Dabi make him try one of his other desserts, and to ask if he wants to go to a crane game place that Toga is dragging them all to later.

"I don't think I've ever played a single crane game in my life." He tells the other, but agrees anyway. The group of them have been having a good time hanging out together, and he wants to hold onto that for as long as he can. 

When they go to the crane game place that night, it's him, Tomura, Spinner, Toga, and Jin, and they all agree to a max spending cap of five thousand yen. Whoever comes back with the most prizes wins will get to pick where they go for dinner, and whoever has the least will be the assigned pack mule for the night. Dabi's spirits are slightly cheered by the fact that Jin says he's never played either. They get to the building and find two floors of the crane games, and Dabi immediately regrets what they've signed up for. They change their bills to coins and he and Tomura break off from the others to go down the rows, looking for any prizes that they might like. 

"Here, you should try this one, firefly." Tomura settles him in front of the game, the prize for which is a rabbit that is designed to look like a strawberry mochi. It's a standard claw game and Dabi at least knows how it works in theory, and Tomura shows him the controls. "This machine always grabs tighter after the third coin, so just try to get it into a good place before then." 

Dabi puts in his coin, "How often do you two come here?" 

Tomura guides his hands on the controls as the game starts, "Whenever we have to decide who's doing laundry or if I want the apartment for the weekend." 

"Yeah, how many times have you kicked him out for the weekend?" 

The question gets him a kiss against the back of his neck. "The only time that matters is this one, because when I win, we're going to your favorite soba place, dropping the others off at karaoke, and then you and I are going back to the apartment, and I'm going to fuck you in the tub the way you always want to until you're boiling the water." In his defense, their apartment is massive and the tub is no exception. 

"You are a terrible roommate and the only man on the fucking planet who is excited over the thought of getting third degree burns on his dick." Dabi lets Tomura guide his hand so that he positions the claw above the stuffed animal. He hits the button to lower it when it's in place and the machine whirrs. The claw closes around the bunny's soft body, but only carries it about an inch towards the prize drop before it slips out from the pincers. 

"A good boyfriend though." He gives Dabi a kiss on the cheek and puts in one of his own coins so that Dabi can try again. 

He gets lucky, and manages to get it up to the plastic partition in the machine, and the rabbit bounces against it and into the hole. Dabi is absolutely not expecting the rush of joy that he gets seeing it drop inside and realizing that he won something. 

"Perfect, firefly!" Tomura praises, giving him another kiss before letting Dabi reach into the slot to take the toy out. It's soft as a kitten, but it does have a plasticky smell to it that he hopes will go away. 

"Yeah, well, it'll be more impressive when I manage to do it on my own. Go make sure that you can deliver a good weekend." 

Tomura smiles and Dabi accepts the peck that he gets before he parts, saying, "If you're struggling at a machine, you can ask the staff to reset it, you can only win one of the big plushies per machine, and there are bags by the coin exchange if you need them to carry things. I'll stay on this floor until you're ready to go upstairs, just come find me when you're ready." 

"Okay," he lets the other leave and picks up his coin cup. Tomura moves down the row and turns a corner, disappearing, he's guessing to go to his favorite machines. He turns and starts to look at the other machines, other versions of claws, ones where he thinks he has to pull on the plastic tabs that have been attached to boxes, trying to find any that look interesting. It's a total waste of his coins, but he sees a box of assorted chocolates that he knows Tomura will hate, and that Toga will love, and he immediately stops at that machine and feeds it a coin. 

It takes him ten tries before he actually gets the box to fall into the slot, and after it does, he doesn't get that same flicker of happiness that he was before. Because that flicker has been fighting its way through his doubt since the first night that they spent together. Tomura likes him, he's good to him, but it's hard not to notice that he's going to make something of himself. He's going to be a proper pro at some point, probably some point soon, and he's going to graduate college, and then he's going to be able to get whatever job he wants after he has his esports career, if he doesn't make enough money to retire on it. Dabi isn't going anywhere. He is incredibly grateful for what he has, but he's not going to make more of himself than a barista and a self-taught pastry chef. He's lucky he even became that. He's not going to get any prettier either. When they go out, he still has people see his face and gasp, or turn away from him and whisper. He still gets stopped by cops when he's just going to the grocery store because they think he looks like a criminal. 

He's always going to be the person who doesn't fit in, who scares people, who is too prickly to make them feel comfortable. He's never going to be as smart as them, won't ever be able to afford to go back to school even if he wanted to, and he's never going to have a lot. He's been happy with what he's had so far, he's been happy with how things worked out when he didn't think he would ever get anywhere near any of this. Dabi knows that his job at Last Drop isn't going anywhere. He would have to fuck up astronomically for Atsuhiro to fire him, and they're not about to go under or anything. He knows that Magne, Jin, and Atsuhiro are his friends first and foremost, and even if things fall apart with Shigaraki, they aren't going to abandon him, while Toga might have to pick between them and her old friends. He knows he has enough money squirreled away that he won't end up homeless again if something unforeseen happens. 

But he doesn't know how he's supposed to handle the fact that Tomura could choose to leave him as soon as he realizes that Dabi isn't worth his time. That he's just going to weigh him down, smearing soot all over the bright future that is stretching out in front of him. He's never been in the position before where he had to decide if he was going to give up on something instead of waiting for it to end, but neither option makes him feel particularly good. 

Dabi's fingers hit cool plastic and he blinks, looking down at his coin cup. Two hundred yen left. He didn't mean to do that, absolutely didn't mean to wander around playing game after game as his mind whirled. Definitely lost. It feels like a horrible signpost from fate that he's going to lose Tomura too, even though he wants so badly, and so selfishly to keep him all for himself. He looks around for a single machine that he thinks that he might be able to get at least one thing out of, desperate to hold on for a chance--

"There you are," Tomura comes up to him, one hand with two large bags of prizes hanging off of it. "Are you ready to head upstairs?" 

"Uh, yeah," he feels his face heat, his stomach in knots. "I'm almost out-- guess you made this look way easier than it was." 

Tomura just smiles, "It takes practice. Besides, you have two things? So does Jin, last I saw. Toga's only got four. She wasted all her money trying to get a My Melody strawberry plush for some girl she's got a crush on." He looks into his coin cup and then whispers to him, "Let's sneak upstairs before the others notice. The gotcha games are up there, and you can get at least one more prize and beat Jin." 

"Okay." His chest hurts. He doesn't want to lose this. They go upstairs and Tomura shows him the line of gotchas that range from one hundred yen to play to two thousand. He can play two of the games and come out with the same amount as Toga, but he's still leagues behind Tomura. He's always going to be behind him, weighing him down. 

He looks along the row and finds one that costs two hundred yen to play. He should just get this over with. It's a mystery gotcha that says that it's stocked with classic arcade items like sticky hands and novelty erasers, to 'higher end' prizes like headphones, fidget toys, and possibly a voucher to play one of the expensive game machines. He puts in his coins and cranks the wheel, listening to the capsules inside shift around. One drops into the slot and he grabs it. It rattles in the capsule so he figures that it's not the voucher and pops it open. On top of the prize is a little piece of paper that shows it's an insect shaped phone charm, and that he could have won a grasshopper, cicada, rollie pollie, butterfly, or... firefly. Dabi isn't expecting the way that makes his heart start to race as he picks up the black plastic pouch the charm was stored in and tears it open. 

He doesn't know why he feels like he might cry for the first time in years when he sees the little black body, its wings spread open to show its yellow butt, which the paper says will glow in the dark. But Dabi has to take a second to figure out how to compose himself before he turns to find Tomura. The other man hasn't gone far, staying in the row of machines that Dabi will have a clear line of sight to. He sees him bend down to pick up his new prize and Dabi thinks about just... leaving. He could go first, and then it will be his fault in a more direct way when this all falls apart. Everyone will be mad at him for being a dick, and they won't ask him why he can't just let himself be happy for as long as he can hold on to this. 

But Tomura turns around and immediately spots him and smiles. It's such a good smile. It lights him up from the inside out. Dabi doesn't want to ruin that for him, not now. He can wait. He'll let Tomura shatter his heart into pieces if it means he doesn't have to break his instead. His boyfriend comes over to him, "What did you get?" 

"Here, you can have it," He says before he can reboot his brain to say anything smarter than that. 

His heart fucking breaks a lot sooner than expected when Tomura takes the charm out of his hand and laughs. "Oh, firefly, that's perfect. I got you something too." It's a miracle he reaches into his bags, digging down towards the bottom, taking his eyes off of him as Dabi has to blink back the slightly red mistiness in his eyes from how in his head he's gotten over the past... however long they've been here. "Something so that you can keep me close even when we're apart." He pulls out a little moth plush, just big enough to fit in his palm with a fake fur ruff around its neck, big red eyes, and soft flappy wings on either side of its body. His chest warms and takes it. 

"Thanks, Duster." 

Tomura puts the charm on his phone, and then pulls him close for a kiss. 

"If it comes down between Spinner tying with you, or me and Jin tying, tell them you got the charm too. I want to take a bath in the tub the two of you are fucking wasting." Tomura laughs, 

"Very underhanded, firefly. Absolutely." Tomura still has five more coins, so he cranks through five of the one hundred yen gotchas since it's starting to get late, and they know at least two of the others are also already finished. 

He's wearing his gloves, always does when he's going to be in crowds where someone could bump into him outside of his control, and he puts the bags all on one arm so that he can lace their fingers together before they head back downstairs to find the others.

"If you guys come here so often, what do you do with all the prizes?" Dabi asks as he tries to pull himself out of the heavy doubts that have been clinging to him so violently all night. 

"Toga gets to pick through all of the plush to find ones she likes, then we donate the rest of them to a charity that gives them to kids in hospitals as a part of their 'buddy' program." 

"Oh, that's sweet." 

"Don't start thinking too highly of us, all of the figures and other stuff we take to a resale place and put that money towards our practice tournament prize. Whoever has the best score at the end of the month gets to spend it on whatever they want." 

Dabi snorts as they make it downstairs and spot their friends standing off to the side of the exit. Toga is beaming, holding her plush close to her chest, and Jin looks defeated. Spinner's bags look smaller than Tomura's but that doesn't mean much when the size of the prizes range from the capsules to plushies the size of Dabi's torso. They count up the prizes, Spinner and Tomura absolutely sweeping the rest of them with ten actual prizes and then Spinner snapping, 

"Oh fuck you! Gotchas don't count!" 

"We never said that." Tomura snarks right back, unwaveringly. It's an underhanded way to win, and Tomura doubles down, saying that he'll win something with four hundred yen if the money he spent on the capsules doesn't count. He manages to win the prize that pushes him over the edge with one coin, and then just because he is such a cocky asshole, he also wins a second one with the last three coins.

They go to get soba, ditch their friends at karaoke, and go back to Tomura's apartment.

When Dabi's curled up against his chest, looking at the firefly charm glowing away on the nightstand, and Tomura presses a kiss against his hair and murmurs,

"Love you, Dabi," He can't manage to make his throat work to say it back, but he holds onto him tighter, leans up to try and kiss him harder. He doesn't know how long he'll get to have this, any of the good things in his life. But Tomura is the best, and he is going to hold on for as long as he can and savor every second of it. 

Thank you so much for reading!

[bugbyte]

frustrated medical blabbing

Today was supposed to be an unpleasant but unavoidable thing. I had to go for a physical exam as part of the process of attempting to appeal for disability. They kept changing the date and time on me, this was supposed to get done months ago, but they set it for 9 am this morning so fuck it, let's go.

Stories about medical professionals being unpleasant under the cut. Lotsa unpleasant medical blabbing which explains why the comic will be late if I can't get my arms feeling better. 😵‍💫

Most mornings for me are slow out of necessity. It takes me a while to get moving, to feel well enough to eat something, for meds to kick in. It makes me feel awful and lazy but I've gotten better at accepting that this is what makes my body function better so I just go with it. Being nonfunctional hurts more than pushing my day around so that's what we do.

Anyway, I spent all night not sleeping well and feeling slightly worried because it's a long drive to the place, the last time I was there the building seemed non-ADA compliant and I smashed my hands trying to wheel through the doorframe, and all of that was later in the afternoon when I'd had time to be more put together. So that aspect was rough on me but not impossible.

I brought headphones because the last time I was there, there was a TV blaring the most insipid facts about "ways to deal with anxiety" and I really wanted to find the off switch and/or throw something through the screen, so instead I listened to music and didn't do that. I had to wait approximately forever to get called back and that's immediately where everything started going wrong.

The nurse was nice but immediately frustrated asking if I could stand. (For the record: I can, just not indefinitely, and prefer it to be brief in unknown circumstances like this.) Then she took my blood pressure but did something super weird with the cuff that I can't really explain because I don't understand it, and when she was done she just pulled the end without stabilizing my arm at all and ripped it off. Probably fine for most people; not fine at all for EDS joints. My shoulder was immediately on fire and I knew something was wrong. This will be like the fourth time now a medical person has injured this specific joint because they're unfamiliar with EDS and just pull on it.

So then she left, and thankfully I wasn't alone, so I explained what had just happened to my spouse (Delade) and we were both on alert.

The actual doctor comes in and is like a ten thousand year old white guy who mumbles in a way that's practically impossible to understand, and between my shoulder pain and my anxiety my brain basically shut off and had my spouse not been paying attention and asking questions I would have missed the next key thing: he muttered that he was doing an orthopedic exam, and I could say no to anything I thought I couldn't do, but the way it came out made me think that I had to do everything, and when I get stressed like that my reaction is to just do what I'm told. So I'm thankful for that.

He then barked his way through a series of basic tests about what I could bend and how far and made me get out of my wheelchair. Again, I can usually kinda manage this, but after sitting uncomfortably for so long, plus my shoulder being wrecked, I had to lean on something, and lasted about two minutes before I had to sit. During which he kindly took my chair away so if I fell I would have been flat on the floor. Great.

There were a bunch of things I had to say no to because I knew if I did them I'd be worse off, but then, because EDS is wildly unpredictable, my other arm started cramping up furiously. At this point the tests were over and he was just going through my chart being chatty and namedropping doctors he knew, and meanwhile my arm is getting more and more and more painful and I'm starting to sweat, a lot. He ignores me and starts chatting with spouse, who wants nothing to do with this either, and finally has to ask if I'm ok. I'm not.

I'm pretty sure this was another vasovagal episode because it came on fast and I was immediately shivering and drenched in sweat, completely nauseated. None of this got written down as a result of the testing, the guy had just blundered off at that point. Usually I'm able to move myself in my chair but with both arms down it wasn't happening, so Delade pushed me out and because the building isn't ADA-compliant, we had to get two nurses to help open the front doors so we could get out.

I was white knuckling it somewhere between passing out and throwing up, but getting into the outside air helped. I had to sit for a while before we could move the car. I felt somewhat better by the time we got home, but my shoulders and arms feel burnt and wrecked, like the worst lingering muscle pull combined with an angry trapezius shoving my shoulders around.

I'm just mad about the whole thing. Mad that they were so careless, mad that they didn't even know what EDS was so how could they possibly fairly judge me for it, mad that now I don't know how long it's going to take to feel better. Mad that they pushed me so hard that I was about to throw up, and then just didn't make note of that, or care. What was the point here???

Anyway, if the comic is late, I'm trying to recover physically and mentally from this. I just feel like at this point I never want another doctor I don't know to ever touch me again. Is this medical trauma? Probably???

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2023- Day 20- Humanoid Cat/Cat folk- Part 1

What to Bring to a Table

Ok, so we've all heard the saying that in relationships- 'What do you bring to the table?" Right? And the older I get, the more I realize, that metaphor is, as archaic as it is, still has a good point.

It's not really about what you can bring to a table, but it's about the table itself. Or its what you as the individual are and have made yourself into. Is the table well made? Is it purely decorative or is it dual purpose or is it rough or just slapped haphazardly together? Is it too high for anyone to reach? Is it so low that it's barely off the ground? How big should it be? Or should it fear that another will come along and saw it and break it apart and rebuild it to suit them? Or worse yet, look at the table that you've built and stacked and stocked for yourself, and think they're entitled to eat everything on it, leaving you with table scraps and a tale full of dirty dishes?

And it should also be a of note, that each dish that you may try to put on the table itself, may have been a labor of love and you may have put a lot of work and effort into it. But if all that hard work is not recognized or praised or noticed, but if anything, taken for granted or demanded, then why do it at all?

And I was totally listening to Labour by Paris Paloma while I was writing this and it shows. And while that song did unlock thousands of years of feminine rage, for guys to recognize that it is a lot of labor and that they should count themselves privledged to even be invited to take a seat at the table and come to the table with some support, and praise and recognition of all the hard work that went into the table and be willing to do the same and willing to join their own table to yours, not to feast and then walk away, but to help make both tables better and stronger for it and willing to cook for the food and clean up after too.

Also, I was severely injured last week and it's thrown yet another monkey wrench into my life. And then my grandmother's caretaker, went off her meds, got 51/50'd into the psyche ward for homicidal tendancies so I, even as injured and in as much pain as I'm in, have tried to help in facilitating her rescue and escape and get her safely to my Mom, only to find out, only hours before we were supposed to go that my parents both got Covid. And then I immediately tested myself, at the time, I tested negative. So it was up to me to clean/disinfect and sanitize my parent's van that just got an oil change and brand new tires so that two of my three sisters could take it down to AZ to pick up my grandmother and bring her here to Ohio. And guess what? I woke up sick this morning myself. Which, honestly, is no surprise for me. I just hope my injury continues to heal and I don't have to be hospitalized for it. Because i'm at risk for MRSA, Staff, Sepsis, and Gangrene. Murphy's Law might as well be my middle name.

Anyway, my first exophillia stories, were actually with rakshasa. So this is going...all the way back to the beginning and then reworking this and rewriting this was really fun for me. I forgot how much I missed this story and these characters. And this was actually fanfiction of @momolady 's Ruby Empire, that I got her permission to write, way back when.

Thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 prompts. I know it's April now, but I only have 11 more prompts to go. And when I'm done, I'll put them all in a masterlist like I did with Kinktober.

Monster March 2023 Day 20- Humanoid Cat- Rakshasa

Zakira and Sulaimon

Part 1

Commander Sulaimon Ahusharaht stood stoically by as he waited for the envoy from Willow to come. Willow, was the newest prefecture and protected city state of The Ruby Empire. And his friend, Lomi, and his wife, who was from Willow, asked him if he could serve as an escort to some members of the envoy. She even offered to pay for him to do so. But Lomi and Zara-Joy were his friends and he gladly accepted the request, no payment needed. From that moment, Zara-Joy had told him all about who she wanted him to protect, her best friend, Zakira Ukani and her daughter Zeeanna, while they would be in The Crown City of The Ruby Empire. They were a small ethnic group from Masraiem, before the War of the Pharaohs tore The Old Kingdom from the top down and rebuilt the The New Kingdom of Masraiem a new, and a new dynasty to go with it. And thankfully the people of Willow were thankfully spared. But not for long. And before Willow knew it, it was pulled into a war, it had lost the knowledge and training to fight in the first place. Masraiem while demanding soldiers- did not offer the protection they once promised. Which was why they sought out the Ruby Empire instead. 

According to Zara-Joy, Zakira was descended from the Old Dynasty Royalty. Granted it had been an affair with one of the pharaoh’s many sons. Thankfully she left with her illegitimate heir and kept them safe from The War of The Pharaoh’s and from being killed off as being an heir period, because they were out to take out any and all remnants of the Old Kingdom to set up The New Kingdom and the New Dynasty. However, the reason she still held the title of Mushrief was because her family had otherwise been the heads over the pharaoh's kitchens and especially the banquets. And those traditions got passed down to the point that Zakira was hands down, no contest- the best cook in all of Willow. Her family had planted the most amazing vineyards, growing many kinds of grapes, making the best wine. Olives for olive oil. And figs and palms for dates. Along with leeks, garlic, onions, tomatoes, and other herbs and especially spices. The most prized being saffron of course while her own family were also from the kitchens but were responsible for the desserts. Thus all the marshmallows and other confections, with figs and dates and pomegranates and other fruits. 

But while all the talk of food had made Sulaimon very, very hungry. Zara-Joy stressed that he needed to use extra care and caution with her. Zakira was widowed. Her husband and love of her life, practically since infancy, had left for war, and not returned. Along with her own father and brothers. And she was the only daughter of her family. And so before the men went off to war, they all got hastily married, even though Zakira and Zahir had been planning on getting married anyway. But, instead had to share their wedding night with all the others. And she was one of four who got pregnant. And none of the fathers to the new babies had come back. Either a family got either a father, or in rare instances, a son back. But never both. Nearly all of the men of Willow had gone, except for the lame and very old. And only a handful had returned, and were never the same. 

But Zakira’s father, nor her brothers, nor her husband came back. Her mother died of grief. And she nearly lost herself and her baby to grief several times. To the point, many of Zakira’s friends simply moved in with her to help her care for herself and at least nurture her own pregnancy. And Zakira had not moved on. She refused to wear white, because she refused to accept the deaths of any of them. And instead, had only worn black ever since. Even if the weather was good for it or not. 

Sulaimon, being a black jaguar rakshasa himself, could empathize. He was naturally dark, so the sun was always shining most fiercely over him. And all he could hope was that for Zeeanna’s sake, she too would not be dressed in black either, for fear she would overheat. But Zara-Joy assured him that Zeeanna was now the only thing Zakira was living for, and she was the most loved, cherished, and spoiled rotten baby in all of Willow. Where Zakira would always make sure she was bathed, clean and well fed. So that Zeeanna would never have a reason to cry in the first place. Which worried Zara-Joy, who by now, was expecting herself and she worried that Zeeanna was going to grow up- never hearing the word “no” and know what it meant. And that the reason Zara-Joy specifically asked Sulaimon, was because he had a lot of experience with babies, since all of his siblings had them of all ages and he was used to watching them to give his siblings and their mates breaks and “date nights”. And that she was hoping Sulaimon would give Zeeanna, the gentle, but firm correction and loving discipline, she would no doubt need since she was fast approaching the terrible twos, despite only being about a year old. 

But that, was what gave Sulaimon pause, because most parents were usually pretty protective over their kids and didn’t like “strangers” telling them how to parent their kids. Especially when he didn’t have any himself. So, he would just have to wait and see how this meeting with Zakira and Zeeanna would go. 

But that fact that he was even willing, was a huge relief to Zara-Joy, who then, gave him a “gift” to exchange to Zakira since Willow was known for it’s customs and traditions of trading gifts. That he would give this bottle of perfume to her once they got to meet in person. And she’d give him a flower necklace that would match the one she would make for herself and the flower necklace would serve like a name badge so she would be able to tell him apart from the other escorts who were also called in on this. 

Sulaimon watched as his comrades were happy to meet their person in the envoy to escort them while they were here, visiting with Zara-Joy and her husband. 

Sulaimon waited and waited and waited as the envoy that never seemed to end, as he realized, it was practically one huge group of young women, all Zara-Joy’s age, with a few families, being in the mix. They all came in and greeted Zara Joy first before she pointed them to their escorts and protectors. And soon, all of his friends and comrades on either side of him and all around him were pulled to their intended protectee- while in the Crown City. 

Finally, the last person in the envoy came through the gate, leaving Sulaimon to assume that this must have been Zakira Ukani. She was, indeed- wearing all black, although it was embroidered with gold thread as an accent. But she was clutching a small baby to her chest, wrapped in still damp white clothes to keep her cool in the heat. Which fit the description Zara-Joy gave him. So he figured that was his cue to finally go up and introduce himself at least. 

But the closer he got, the moment she pulled her black hood back, to reveal a river of black and sun lightened brown hair, he was suddenly mesmerized and then slowed down to a stop as his pupils dilated as wide as they could be while his focus was suddenly solely on her. She had to be the most beautiful human looking woman he had ever seen before in his life. The Crown City had all sorts of species of people. So he was used to seeing all manner of them. But to see all of these very pretty girls come in, his friends were suddenly very pleased with the “assignment”. 

But once she embraced her friend and then Zara-Joy pointed to him, her face changed to that of one of weariness and apprehension but she seemed to try to push that down as she purposefully came forward to at least meet him halfway before his feet soon did the same. 

“Mushrief Zakira Ukani?” He greeted hopefully as he came over to her. 

“Commander Sulaimon Ahushrat.” She greeted back cordially as her voice still had a thicker Masraiem accent. And he had heard tales of queens of the Pharoh’s being handpicked from the beauties of Masraiem to serve in his harem when he wasn’t, of course, fucking his own sisters to keep a “pure” bloodline, that is, well, at least, according the rumors anyway. 

“I believe this is for you.” He offered the gift of the bottle of perfume. 

“Thank you, and this is a gift for you.” She offered as she handed him the flower necklace whose blooms were the darkest reds and purples and practically black themselves, but their scents were heady and heavy but divine. 

“Thank you.” As he took it from her and put it on himself while she put the bottle of perfume away into the bag that hung at her hip but hung across her own chest, over her mother’s sling, where her baby was nestled against so that her own mother’s breasts could serve as pillows when she would sleep. The baby still had milk on her face. This was probably why she was the last in, she wanted to feed her baby right before and was probably hanging back to do just that. 

“So this must be little Zeeanna.” He gestured to the baby at her chest before said baby turned at the sound of her name from clutching at her mother to look him over curiously. And if Sulaimon thought that Zakira was beautiful, this little baby had to be the most adorable baby he had ever seen before in his life, his own nieces included. 

But after Zeeanna looked him over, she seemed to make up her mind about him and pulled away from her mother and leaned towards him and started cooing and babbling at him and reaching out with her chubby little hands. 

“No, Anna.” Zakira immediately pulled her baby away from him and tried to wrap her up even closer in the mother sling she had her daughter in. 

“I wouldn’t mind holding her.” He offered. 

“No, she’d hurt herself on all the weapons that are strapped to you.” Zakira sharply turned him down as she tried walking back to her horse while also trying to contain a now very wriggling and bawling baby in her mother’s sling. 

“Here, I’ll take them off.” Sulaimon offered before he took off the straps across his chest where his daggers were and put them around his hips instead so his arms and chest were disarmed and open. 

“Your armor’s most likely burning hot in the sun, it would burn her skin.” Zakira added as she tried to continue to excuse as she tried to walk away but with each wail of Anna, she got more upset and distressed, as did he before he took that off too and handed it all to a friend to keep for him. 

“There, I’m not wearing anything that’ll hurt her or harm her. I can hold her.” He offered as Anna was trying to climb up her mom’s chest, and over her shoulder and cried and still reached out to him and Sulaimon didn’t care if he’d strip down to bare fur if he had to -because her cries were hurting him more than any burning arrow could. 

Finally, Zakira turned around and noticed that he had taken off his chest armor and his daggers and even the swords on their belt at his waist before she begrudgingly and reluctantly got Anna out of her sling and then nervously handed her baby over and watched him like a hawk as he took her and held her securely in his arms as she instantly stopped crying and settled down as Sulaimon instantly started soothing her and cooing to her in turn. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you too. So Anna huh?” He assumed as he looked at her as she smiled, showing off four, tiny little teeth in her otherwise bare gums. Sulaimon made sure his claws were otherwise deep into his fingers as he oh so carefully wiped the tears from Anna’s eyes and her cheeks and began to purr to put her at ease which helped her settle down more and relax and get comfortable. 

“Everything ok?” He asked Zakira as he looked up from Anna to see Zakira standing there, watching him hold her daughter as she was frowning in confusion at the scene. 

“She…she usually doesn’t like anyone but me to hold her.” Zakira reluctantly admitted. 

“Zara-Joy said that she and Lomi got to when they came to visit Willow last.” Sulaimon recalled. So at least he wasn’t first rakshasa Zeeanna had ever met before. 

“I…I thought it was a fluke.” Zakira allowed. 

“Well, Zara-Joy is a very sweet person and her husband was always a remarkable guard in the Palace Guard and is a very good and honorable man. Babies have good senses about people.” Sulaimon offered before he reached up to brush Anna’s thick curls from her face before Anna reached out to grab his hand. 

“Oh, Anna don’t…!” Zakiria immediately rushed to pull his hand out of her daughter’s grasp. But was not fast enough. 

Because with lightning fast speed and surprising strength, Anna grabbed his hands, one hand on his thumb, and the other on his pinky and shoved the back of his first finger into her mouth and bit down. Hard. 

Sulaimon impressed himself by not roaring out in pain but his ears pinned back as his gasp and grunt of pain while his tail nearly snapped like a whip. He just instantly clenched his jaw and let out a low growl as his face scrunched up in pain as his eyes snapped shut before he heard Anna let out the most evil little giggle as Zakira gasped in horror at her daughter’s actions. 

He took a few calming breaths and opened his eyes and fixed Anna with a softened but still firm look of disapproval. 

“I’m so sorry, she’s a biter. I should have warned you.” Zakira offered apologetically as she tried to pry his hand from her daughter’s mouth. 

“No Anna! No biting! Biting bad!” Zakira chastised her baby and popped Anna in the mouth once she had freed Suilaimon’s hand from Anna’s grip and her daughter’s mouth, but that only sent Anna into hysterics again before she rolled in Sulaimons’ arms and sought comfort in Sulaiman's arms and chest and rolled away from her mom to avoid her look of disappointment and anger. 

“Anna, you need to listen to your Mama ok? Biting for the fun of it is bad. If you’re biting to defend yourself, that’s one thing. But biting just to be mean is bad ok?” Sulaimon offered as he moved her to lay over his shoulder and rubbed soothing circles into her back as she then tried to climb into his shirt, like it was another sling before he opened up the top of the vest over his shirt to make a pocket to put herself in. as she was happy to do that. 

Then she gave a huge burp and Sulaimon’s ears went back again as he could feel her milky spit up spill down his back. That this heat only amplified the scent and the feeling of it soaking into his clothes and going down them too. 

“I am so sorry!” Zakira apologized again as she grabbed a cloth from her back to try to wipe it up and off of him before it would soak into his clothes too much. But then Zakira was happy to simply sigh in relief and then nuzzle her head into the crux of Sulaimon’s neck and shoulder and reach up and grab a fistful of his fur in her fist and then promptly, fell soundly asleep. 

Zakira tried to clean it up only to look up and softly gasp at the sight again. 

“What’s wrong?” Sulaimon asked as his ears trained on Zakira behind him. 

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, she’s…she’s asleep. She hasn’t slept hardly at all this whole trip. She has been incredibly upset and restless since we left home. And…she really needs it. I’m sorry she made a mess of your clothes. I can try to wash them once we get to..” She tried to offer. 

“No, it’s fine. Babies are messy. I know. I don’t have any myself but all of my siblings do. This is not the first or the last time this vest and this outfit will have gotten spit up on it. And it’s pretty easy to clean too, no worries. There’s more than enough soap and fresh water to wash it, and I can wash it myself if need be.” Sulaimon calmly reassured her. 

“Well, thank you, very much for understanding that and being so gracious about this.” Zakira offered. 

“Thank you for trusting me with Anna.” Sulaimon offered in kind as they seemed to finally catch gazes and really see, each other, for who they really were. Sulaimon could just see that she was a young widow, trying to deal with immense grief and loss and motherhood all at once and all on her own. And he could empathize with that. And she could see that, while he may have looked rakshasa, there was still a very good man in there, underneath all that handsome fur. 

“Well, you’re right, babies can tell things about people. And if she likes you enough to play with you, even though she did that by biting you. And if she is comfortable enough to fall asleep in your arms, and you’re willing to forgo your weapons and armor to just hold her. Then I’m sure I can entrust her into your care for now.” Zakira offered, with the shyest of smiles, it was small, but still precious before she noticed the others were getting back up on their horses. 

“Do you need help to get back up on your horse?” Sulaimon asked. 

“Uh, no, I’m fine, I got it.” She quickly dismissed.

“Yeah, I know you do. Just, let me at least, offer you a leg up. Here, put your foot on my knee, and you’ll get up on your horse easier.” He offered before he knelt next to her stallion, while still keeping Anna on his other shoulder and securely in his other arm. 

“Thank you.” She thanked him as she took his free hand and used his offered knee to jump up onto her stallion and let him lead the stallion with the others as the group went to Zara-Joy’s palace with the others where she had many guest rooms prepared for her guests from home. 

“Joy! You didn’t have to go all out like this.” Zakira said as she appraised the suite of rooms that her friend showed her to and the many gifts all around it. 

“I can, so I did. Plus I mean look, won’t Anna look so pretty in these?” Zara-Joy asked as she showed Zakira the matching mommy and daughter outfits she had gotten Zakira, that progressed include other colors other than black, trying to tempt Zakira out of her prolonged mourning. Slowly, but surely. 

“Yes, they’re very beautiful. I don’t know how I could ever…” Zakira began to say. 

“Do not cheapen my gifts by trying to think of how much they are worth or how much trouble they were to acquire. Please, don’t steal my joy, accept them. And if you can bring yourself to wear even a bangle, I’ll be happy. I know it’s been hard grieving, but you’re here, enjoy it. They have an entire Spice District here in the Crown City in the Market Square, I’m sure you’ll have fun playing around and finding new ways to mix them together to make anything you wanted. My chefs would be eager to watch you work and try to copy down all those secret recipes your ancestors brought over from the old country being the exquisite Mushariefs they always have been. Your kitchen has always had the best food in all of Willow. Find something new and create something or put a twist on the old. Or even honor the old ways if you really want to. In the meantime, I know you’re anxious to get cleaned up from all the dust from the roads, come, this palace has it’s own private bathhouse.” Zara urged her friend before Anna woke up from her nap and looked around. 

“Just in time, come on Anna, lets get you and Mommy and the other women cleaned up ok?” Zara-Joy said before Zakira took her daughter back from Sulaimon. 

“Joy got you some special oils Sweetheart, come on, let’s get cleaned up and we can let Commander…” Zakira began. 

“It’s just Sulaimon or Sully if you really want to be casual, you don’t have to use my rank or anything.” Sulaimon invited.

“Oh, well then it’s just Zakira for me then, excuse us.” She said as she simply grabbed the closest set of bathing robes, scooping up undergarments under them as she did so and put them with the basket of bathhouse supplies. 

“You can use the other side of the bathhouse, and obviously, get your shirt and vest cleaned at least.” Zara-Joy urged Sulaimon as she went with her friend and urged all the women to join her in “the ladies” side of the bathhouse. 

“Why did you choose Sulaimon to escort me around?” Zakira asked her friend once they disrobed and stepped into the ever hot and gently floating water. While the other women were already giddily talking about how much they liked and were attracted to their escorts. 

“Because, when he’s not in “Commander Mode”, he’s surprisingly quiet yet gentle. He comes from a large but very good family. He’s always been single because the military has always been his career and he’s always saved his wages living in the barracks. And once all of his siblings got married and started having kids, suddenly he found himself on more blind dates because everyone always wants to play matchmaker with him. And he is very guarded against that sort of thing. As I know you have been since you lost Zahir. This way, I figured you’d both get the break from the pressure, even if it’s only for a visit.” Zara-Joy casually explained as she tried to hide her scheming smile as she helped wash Anna and wash her hair while Zakira washed Anna’s body and thought that over and did feel a sense of relief to learn that.  

“Has he ever had…” Zakira began to ask but her emotion cut off her voice. 

“No, he’s never been married, but according to Lomi, he did like one girl. But she couldn’t wait for him to even get out of basic training and was already six months pregnant by the time he came back from his training that takes a year. And the worst part was that she cheated on one of the idiots who got kicked out of basic training because it was too hard for him. And apparently had been having an affair with the other one before he even left for basic training. So ever since then, he’s just…thrown himself into his military career and training more cadets and making sure they are well trained, and very well equipped.” Zara-Joy answered.  

“I wish Willow had had something like that.” Zakira muttered resentfully. 

“I know. But now that Willow is an ally of The Ruby Empire, no more will the men of Willow be led to the slaughter and I’m sure Sulaimon would be the first to volunteer to teach such things there, so that Willow will no longer be vulnerable or at the mercy of anyone or anything, other than the weather itself.” Zara-Joy insisted as Zakira nodded but still fought back tears. 

“Not that there’s many men left.” Zara practically hissed.

“The war took too much from us. From you especially. That’s why I chose the best soldier in King Amit’s army as your escort. Because even if he was without weapons altogether. He would and will find a way to keep you and especially Anna safe, even when you’re not inside your home or inside mine.” Joy soothed Zakira as she put conditioning oils into Anna’s hair. 

“Where will he be staying while I’m here?” Zakira asked. 

“In the next room over from you. And there is a private entrance from his quarters into yours so you don’t have to go out into the hallway if you don’t want to. But there’s a lock on all the doors so no one will have access to you or Anna without your permission and consent.” Zara reassured her friend. 

Zakira got redressed in a bathrobe and took Anna back to her room so she could give Anna a proper massage and a chance to nurse again, since she did spit up quite a bit, and hopefully, fill a diaper or two before she would get dressed and then put Anna into her new outfit, because Zakira did not want Anna to make a mess of such a precious little outfit. 

Then there was a knock on the door that Zara-Joy had told Zakira led to Sulaimon’s guest room. 

“Yes Sulaimon?” Zakira asked. 

“Dinner is almost ready. Are you ready or do you need help with Anna or anything?” He asked through the door as he finished getting redressed himself in clean clothes and had washed himself. So that he too would be fresh and clean for dinner. 

“No, I’m…” Zakira began before Anna immediately popped off from nursing and began to babble and call out to Sulaimon and began crawling on the large bed to get towards the door while Zakira huffed and pulled the robe around her tighter once Anna got to the end of the bed and actually slid down from the bed to the chaise lounge at the bottom of the bed and then slid down safely to the floor and was crawling as fast as Zakira had ever seen Anna move before. 

“Ah! Anna!” Zakira tried to lunge to catch her daughter before she slid from the bed and then got up to try to catch her before she fell from the chaise lounge at the end of the bed. 

But Sulaimon, upon hearing Zakira yelp at her daughter broke the door down and open to get to her but only came in to see Anna there, sitting up on her feet on the other side with Zakira trying to reach for her as Anna smiled happily to see Sulaimon again and closed the distance between herself and him and climbed to stand up on his legs while babbling and reaching for him. 

“Oh, I’m, I’m so sorry, I heard…” Sulaimon quickly apologized as he quickly scooped Anna up into his arms only to be met with the sight of Zakira in only a robe that had come a bit loose in her attempts to get her daughter up off the floor. 

“Sorry to worry, you, obviously, she’s…she’s just fine, I just didn’t think she could move that fast.” Zakira tried to excuse as she looked at the way the wood broke in the door itself as the lock was still in the other half of the lock in the wall. 

“Nor did I think you’d be that strong, unless that door is especially flimsy.” Zakira offered as she gestured to it before Zara-Joy and her husband Lomi came in to see the scene. 

“What happened?” Zara-Joy asked as she looked between her friend and Sulaimon as Sulaimon’s ears pinned back sheepishly. 

“I heard Zakira cry out for Anna and thought they were in danger, and I uh, I broke your door. I can uh. I can either pay for its repair or replacement.” Sulaimon offered. 

“Wow, don’t worry about it. You were just doing your job.” Lomi reassured his friend as he appraised the door before he unlocked it and the other half of the locking mechanism fell onto the floor once it was released as Lomi picked it up.

“That’s quite impressive.” Lomi praised. 

“Zakira, if you want to be moved I have another spare room available.” Zara-Joy offered consolingly. 

“No it’s alright. I think if anything, it just proved that you chose a good and protective escort for me. To the point he’d break your house at the thought of Anna being in danger, it’s fine. I was going to unlock it and keep it unlocked anyway.” Zakira offered. 

“Well, we can still get it replaced while we have dinner. But um, we would just need to put away your gifts for when the repairmen come to install the new door, but first you might want to get dressed.” Zara suggested before she helped Zakira get a set of clothes and into the bathroom before she put the gifts she had gotten her into the dressers and other places in the room before Lomi left to seek out a new doorman. 

“Great first impression.” Sulaimon muttered to himself as he simply got Anna dressed in the matching outfit that corresponded to the one that Zakira had grabbed and got Anna dressed at least. 

“I thought it wasn’t half bad.” Zara- Joy shrugged. 

“Why’d you pick me as her escort? Why not Rhyad? He is a composer and you told me that Zakira was too. At least they would have that in common.” Sulaimon asked Zara as she continued to put all the jewelry that she knew Zakira probably overlooked before she pulled out a different necklace that didn’t match the style of any of the jewelry that was common in The Ruby Empire, much less the Crown City. 

“I could have. But even though they both love music, they have very different views about it. Rhyad and his music is all about the big performance, the large, complicated and intricate workings. Zakira believes in the simple but profound and authentic music. That even if all you have, is your own voice, than that is all the instrument you really need to make good music. And using the natural sounds around you to set the pace and the rhythm. But otherwise, when Rhyad is not a composer, he is a pushover. And that’s not what Anna needs. Anna is a stinker through and through. Aren’t you- you cheeky rascal.” Zara-Joy cooed to Anna as she sat on the bed next to where Anna was being laid down so Sulaimon could dress her, after he checked her diaper to make sure it didn’t need changing. 

“You have a great capacity to give Anna the gentle firmness in structure and discipline that she’s been missing so far. Honestly, I think Anna only does most of the naughty things as more of a joke and to get a laugh, which is why she’s the first to laugh, hoping her mother will too, or at least, just to see Zakira smile. Because all Zakira could do once Anna was born, was cry to see so much of Zahir in her. I’m surprised she just didn’t outright name her Zahini instead.” 

Zara-Joy admitted in a low murmur as Zakira eavesdropped while she got ready. 

“Too much like tahini or zucchini.” Sulaimon noted which got Zara-Joy to snicker a laugh while Zakira made a face. 

“Yeah, that’s what Zahir had said before he left too. He liked the name Zeeanna, his little Anna - Banana. But not his little Zee, because there’s always too many little Zee’s in Willow as it is. It’s hard enough that I share my name with three others. You saw Zara-Grace and Zara-Hope already. So little Anna it is. And she does like bananas, ripe ones anyway. Which I thought was great, a way to finish off the Z’s and get back to the other letters of the alphabet.” Zara-Joy admitted with a bittersweet smile to Anna once Sulaimon finished dressing her before Zara-Joy put the distinctly Mizraim piece of jewelry onto Anna, coiling it around her chubby little upper arm as Zakira leaned against the door and fought back tears of the memory of Zahir talking about Anna-Bananna and how Zakira had laughed at how profoundly stupid that would be to name a daughter that as Zakira smiled bittersweetly at the memory and wiped the tears from her eyes before they could fall down her face and tried to regain her composure. 

“There, like proper Khandi.” Zara-Joy cooed to Anna once she finished putting the arm band around her upper arm. 

“Why did Wennet lead your people out of Mizraiem when she did?” Sulaimon asked. 

“Because in Wennet’s temple, it’s a place of peace, understanding and clairvoyance. Wenet could see there was going to be feud between who would be next to be Pharaoh over Mizraiem. And she could tell it would be futile. Princes were already trying to pit the gods themselves against one another in the pantheon. And Wenet didn’t want any part of it. So she led her most loyal of followers out. And led them to Willow. A valley, surrounded by tall mountains that look like just another arid wasteland on the outside. But such mountains held treasures for us. And she wanted to enjoy such treasures in peace, without anyone coming to conquer and take them away. That is why if you ever get to go to Willow, it looks like a piece of Mazraiem plucked right out of the Mizraiem Delta and plopped right into the Willow Valley. Because that’s what Wenet did for us, or at least, according to the ancestors. She at first, only transported her temple to Willow. And then, as more and more of Mazriam was taken up by the sands when the Old Kingdom of Mazraiem fell when there was the war of the Pharaohs, and thankfully she got to save some of the better houses and transport them to Willow for us to live in. Now granted the houses were made for the Mazraiem Delta, we’ve made them our own and to suit the weather and conditions in The Willow Valley. She even had all of the priestesses and priests and loyal followers put all of their most precious possessions into the temple itself so that they could flee Mazraiem with only food and clothing and tents for shelter, saying they needed to go out into the wilderness to go on a pilgrimage, and not be stopped. Which, according the ancestors, worked.” Zara-Joy recounted. 

“And then once they were safely out of Mazraiem, Wennet led them to the Valley of Willow herself, where she had already moved all of their houses and their gardens and even made off with one of the Pharaoh’s seed storehouses and his livestock. So for once, we could have our animals, breed and raise them with love and care, slaughter them as they got old to feed ourselves, but not before. Seeds and saplings and vines, so we could plant and grow our own food. And work for no one but ourselves. No more pyramids to build, no more elaborate burial rituals of the pharaohs and other nobles. And no more slavery, no more sacrifices to feed a never ending need to outdo the previous pharaoh before them. Just a place to worship in peace. To not toil under the sun and harvest food for the noble’s table while we were simply given bread and fish and oil, without having to brave crocodiles or hippos to get the fish in the first place.” Zara-Joy recalled with a fond smile. 

“The reason Zakira has the title of Musharif was because her ancestry came from the pharaoh’s household of servants, Musharif was the title held by the head of the banquet feast, making sure every dish that came out of the kitchens, whether it be served to pharaoh or one of his nobles, or guests, would be met with pleasure. And that has not been forgotten. The foods from Zakira’s house since Willow’s founding, have always been the best in all of Willow. She elevates simple, humble ingredients and elevates them to dishes worthy to be used as food offerings to any and every god worthy of them.” Zara-Joy praised. 

“Oh like your own confections do not deserve the same praise?” Zakira offered as she came out of the bathroom redressed in the outfit Zara-Joy had gotten her as Zara smiled while Sulaimon’s breath was practically pulled from his chest. Because Zakira was even more breathtaking. Which he didn’t think could be possible. But here he was, sitting down on the bed with Anna in his arms and smiling in awe while Anna giggled with glee to see her mom’s bashful smile at Zara-Joy’s praise. 

“Sometimes. It depends on the humidity.” Zara-Joy shrugged. 

“Here, I got you…” Zara said before she reached behind her and got out a special Masraiem style arm band that doubled as a bracelet and offered it to her friend as Zakira took it and smiled fondly at it before she put it over her wrist but refused any other makeup or jewelry. 

“Thank you for indulging me. You look beautiful.” Zara-Joy praised. 

“Agreed, very beautiful.” Sulaimon praised with a proud grin and realized as an afterthought that the teal on his own dress clothes matched hers and that made his heart beam with pride and happiness. Zakira spared Sulaimon an appreciative smile and decided to wear the perfume you had gotten her after all, just a small line down the center of her chest. 

Sulaimon tried to hide his deep breath in when he smelled the perfume but Zakira caught it and grinned to herself before she put a couple of the toys into her bag along with a few extra cloth diapers and things into it. 

“Well, dinner should be ready any time now.” Zara-Joy encouraged. 

“Here, let me get that.” Sulaimon offered as he reached out for Anna’s diaper bag to put on and wear for her, so Zakira didn’t have to carry it herself. Zakira got her own flower necklace on and dupatta before leaving with him, taking his arm as he escorted them back to the dining room. When they arrived all the girls and young women gasped softly and reached over to grab their friends, cousins and sisters as they shared an excited look and bright, excited smiles. 

“You look beautiful!” They all told Zakira as she walked by. 

“Thank you, a gift from Joy.” Zakira answered. 

“Aww!” They all fawned before reaching out to feel the silk of her skirt as she passed them. When she was done passing them they looked to Zara-Joy and gave her an appreciative smile for finally succeeding in getting her to wear a color other than black, even if it was just a skirt, it was still a small victory. 

Zakira and Sulaimon sat down at the very long table, and towards the end that had the other young mothers and widows as Sulaimon’s friends were practically doing the same thing he was, holding the daughters of the women they were escorting while they were in Willow. 

Although he could already see and feel all the romantic chemistry going off like fireworks among everyone else while he felt awkward because Zakira was not giving him any indication of any interest in him, other than platonic friendliness, as he felt more resistance than anything. But while he was attracted to her, he would respect that unconscious choice she had made and not pursue anything. But the conversation that Zakira engaged in was telling. She was proud of her home, and she was proud of her orchards and her vineyards and was very much looking forward to the harvest this year. And Sulaimon realized why she was resistant. She didn’t want to give up her freedom, independence and control up, which he could sympathize and empathize with. Because that’s why he had been resistant in the past, because he didn’t want to give up the lifestyle he had learned to like and appreciate up either. He liked his own freedom, independence and control over his own life, and his own finances and while he liked to come home to his family for the family dinners, and while the invitation was always open to move into the large suite of rooms that doubled as a home within his parent’s much larger home, he had liked his bachelorhood. Not that he would go out and stay out all night like he used to as a young cadet and soldier. But, that the option was always there. He liked having the ability to take on any assignment at the drop of a hat because he had no other obligations than his own work ones without a second thought about anything. 

“You’ve been quiet.” Zakira noticed when she noticed that Sulaimon, other than eating and listening to the conversation, didn’t add too much to it. 

“I’m just listening.” Sulaimon offered. 

“And you’re brooding.” Zakira realized. 

“I don’t mean to be.” Sulaimon replied apologetically. 

“No, you’re thinking, I can practically see and hear the gears in your head turning from here. What do you think?” Zakira asked. 

“About what?” Sulaimon asked. 

“Any of it? All of it? Something in particular that’s catching your attention?” Zakira asked. 

“How similar we are.” Sulaimon answered which got Zakira to blink in surprise as a small smile soon spread on her lips. 

“How so?” She asked. 

“You have a home that’s been in your family for generations since Willow’s founding, taken right from Masraiem. Your family, in that time has built up a lot. And you have a responsibility to all of it. To keep it safe and protected for Zeeanna. In Willow, you have full and complete control of everything. Your home, your fields, your vineyards, your orchards, your gardens. And traditions you feel you need to keep alive that have been passed down. And on top of that, you’re raising Anna all on your own when you thought you’d be sharing all of that with, with Zahir. Now you have to do it all by yourself. You’re a stronger person than most. You’ve strengthened your shoulders for such burdens, all while grieving. Most would have crumbled and been crushed by such things. And while you carry those burdens well, doesn’t mean that they’re not heavy. And it’s very admirable.” Sulaimon praised in a low murmur. 

“So how are we similar in that respect?” Zakira asked. 

“I’m the youngest Commander. I’m up for the position of being a General soon. And if I get it, I’ll be the youngest one to do so. It’s a lot of responsibility. And a burden that very few can comprehend, let alone wrap their heads around. You have a family legacy that you are doing everything you can to keep alive. And I can sympathise with that. Where you have fields, and orchards and vineyards, I have entire troops to care for and attend to myself. And I take that responsibility very seriously. And I’ve traded a “traditional” life for the one I have now. I moved out from my parents home as soon as the army could let me. I moved into the barracks and I never moved out. Granted I’ve moved around in the barracks, but other than my uniform and armor, I have all this freedom and independence to do what I want when I want, well, when I’m not following orders myself that is. And so far, I haven’t wanted to give that up for anything. And I don’t know how much Zara-Joy has told you about me. But because I’m a bachelor, I’m always getting set up on blind dates and all they see is decorated soldier, or they see my family’s legacy that everyone else in the family is keeping alive and building and adding onto, but me, because I wanted to have something of my own. And it came with a lot of responsibilities that I’ve had to strengthen my own shoulders to bear too. But I chose this and I chose my path and my job and my career. You haven’t. You haven’t had a choice in taking it all on and doing so all by yourself. You’re officially the strongest person I know.” Sulaimon offered as Zakira’s eyes got glassy but her smile was so sweet because she finally felt seen and felt sympathized and empathized with. 

“It’s a lonely life isn’t it?” Zakira noted.

“It is. On one hand I see all my siblings married with kids and have families. And I know that marital union can bring a lot of happiness. But it can also come with a lot of strife and a lot of problems and complications and obligations. And all my siblings see me and my singleness, and they see my freedom and independence and they get jealous…” Sulaimon confessed. 

“But they don’t see the responsibility and the burden and the loneliness.” Zakira finished for him. 

“Right. Exactly.” Sulaimon nodded. 

“Zara-Joy told me that you get set up on blind dates a lot. And that it’s always with girls who are privileged. And who are either after the glory of your military career, or your family’s status and wealth and think all they have to do is seduce a soldier and then never have to do much of anything else and that all their problems are over and that your family will take care of them. Which is why none of them have worked out. Because you don’t want a girl looking for an easy way out.” Zakira surmised. 

“Right again. Because the older I get, the more I realize that there are huge differences between a girl, a young woman, and a mature woman. The girls always have their heads filled with fairy tales and are looking for the whole, love at first sight, soul mate, perfect match kind of thing, which is honestly setting themselves up for failure. The young women, they are looking for security and looking to use their own beauty, or wealth or influence to get whatever they want, thinking that if they say the right things, do the right things, dress the right way, look the right way, it will come to them. But it’s the mature ones, who realize that if they want a life they want to live and do so happily, they have to build it themselves or someone else will build it for them and they may not like how it’s built for them by someone else. And if they’re going to share what they’ve built with someone, they want it to be the right person who appreciates them and sees the value in what they’ve built and appreciates the work it took to make it that way.” Sulaimon noted as Zakira was impressed that he was mature and smart enough to put that together. 

“I’ve always heard the saying “what are you bringing to the table”. And when I was younger, I thought I had a lot to bring. The older I get, the more I realize that it’s the table itself that’s the most important part. Is the table well made? Is the table made with good and sturdy materials? Was it built with time, and careful effort and planning and actually hand crafted? Or was it just slapped together at the last minute and wonky and unstable and the moment you put anything on it, it’s all gonna slide right off or fall apart at the first test of how much the table can hold. And so far, I like to think I’ve built a decent table for myself. Granted some of the materials used were from my family and the style is similar. But I’ve had to build it none the less. And then once it was built, I’ve had it stacked and piled high and sometimes, feels overflowing and cluttered, when it’s not bare or being rebuilt to handle more and more weight and loads in the first place.” Sulaimon tried to illustrate. 

“Exactly. And if you’re going to join your table with someone else’s, you want the table to be the same height as your own. And you want it to be just as strong and just as well made and just as sturdy as your own. You want help to keep it decluttered, but you don’t want to shove everything you have onto someone else or have everything on someone else’s table shoved onto yours so theirs is cleared for lavish meals while yours is piled high with work.” Zakira surmised. 

“Yes! Exactly right.” Sulaimon practically laughed and beamed because finally, finally, someone understood it. 

“Well, then you’re right. We are very similar and have a lot in common. I always thought my table, was the family’s table. And then when there was no family. Suddenly, I had to take ownership of it. And then realize what was broken, what was needing work and realizing that it’s just too big of a table to handle by myself, when I always thought I’d only be taking up a chair at the end of it. Not the one at the head of it. And the head chair at the head of a big, long table, that’s had generations of crap put onto it, it’s cluttered and disorganized and overwhelming. But if I’m going to adjoin my table with anyone else’s I’d want help with it. And not simply hand it all over so that anyone else can do whatever they want to it, or break it apart and use it for firewood.” Zakira confessed. 

“Or use it as a cutting board. Or take a hacksaw to it and cut it and resize it how they want it, and not realize it’s built that way for a reason. Not for the looks, but for function.” Sulaimon muttered. 

“Or think that it’s all for show and it’s meant to be embellished with fancy engravings and set up to look like it’s always full with a feast, but all the dishes are empty. And it’s never meant to be used or eaten from, always meant to be ornamental.” Zakira murmured back. 

“Exactly. Because, while those fancy and elaborate tables are pretty. That’s all they are. They have no strength, integrity or function besides being looked at for how pretty it is, but the moment you put any kind of weight on it, it’ll fall apart and break.” Sulaimon nodded in agreement. 

“Or one that will look at the feast you’ve made for yourself on that table and help themselves to it, and pull up a chair without an invitation and without bringing a dish to add. And then once they’ve eaten, won’t even help wash any of the dirty dishes or help clean up after either.” Zakira added. 

“Or worse yet, assume that they should sit at the head of that table that you slaved over, making every dish delicious and think they should eat first and eat their fill and leave nothing for the person, who actually made the food in the first place, when in reality, if you’re hungry, work, get ingredients and learn how to cook it yourself. Because the first thing I teach my soldiers is how to cook for themselves and how to forage for themselves and how to tell what is good and safe water or not, or how to clean the water in the first place. Let alone, how to cook. I see more and more incompetence and that incompetence being weaponized because such work is “beneath them”. Which is frankly, stupid. Because if one is hungry, they have two hands, they can make it themselves. And if they still depend on their mothers for such things, they might as well still be in diapers and sucking on their thumbs and not in my army, let alone my platoons.” Sulaimon professed and Zakira’s jaw was practically on the floor as her smile of delight was like sunshine. Because if she had thought Sulaimon was handsome before, he was practically the sexiest man she had ever laid her eyes on since Zahir for having that attitude alone. And she practically had to stop herself from grabbing him by the whiskers and kissing him right there at the table. 

Oh, when Zara-Joy said, that besides, Lomi, Sulaimon was practically the best man in the Crown City, she was not kidding. 

“What?” Sulaimon asked as he looked at her as she seemed to have something turn alight in her.

“I…wow. I completely agree. I want to meet your mom and thank her for raising one hell of a good son. Because I realize you’re a grown man. But yes! A thousand times yes! You have no idea how infuriating that can be! Everyone in Willow, ever since we settled there has always gone on and on and on about how great the food at our home was and always praised my mother for her cooking skills when it wasn’t that at all. My parents were equals in the household and always did everything together. It wasn’t my mother that was doing all the cooking and cleaning. It was both of them doing those things together, both of my parents were always in the kitchen with everyone else, everyone learned how to cook, everyone, once they were weaned, learned how to keep their room clean and then learned how to help make the rest of the house clean. How to mend clothes, how to cook, how to judge whether something was ripe or not. What to look for in ripe or unripe foods and how to pick your spices and how to blend them and grind them, and usually the more delicious the food, the more preparations went into it and how satisfying it is to do the work and then all come around and share a meal that everyone had a hand in making. And doing so as a team that made their marriage and every marriage before, a success. Because that’s part of why Wennet had us break off from Masaier, because she saw how it was the women that did all the work but the men got all the fruitages of their work and assumed that because they worked outside the home, that that exempted them from doing anything in the home. Wow. Just…wow. I’m astounded that we have that much in common. Good for you for figuring that out, and if going through military training is a requirement, I hope you get to teach every man here and far beyond that lesson. Cause that lesson alone will bring them so much peace and pleasure and satisfaction, not only in their tents but especially when they get home and really see how much labor goes into those things.” Zakira praised. 

“Well I mean if you really want to meet her, I can let them know. I’m sure they’d love to meet you and you could exchange recipes if you wanted.” Sulaimon offered. 

“I would love that.” Zakira smiled happily as she finally seemed to lower the last of her guard and for once, ate to her own satisfaction and enjoyed all the flavors of all the various dishes as Sulaimon walked her through the traditional favorites as they bonded over food, and how to cook said food. And especially how to do laundry. And especially about how to be a self-sufficient adult. 

After dinner, there was a series of games played, the biggest one being ‘cahoots’ that after the second round, Sulaimon was quick to catch on what the key was before Zakira let him whisper what he thought it was into her ear as she nursed Anna on a nearby couch, using her dupatta to maintain some modesty as Sulaimon was happy to sit next to her and help tuck it around her and between them so that Anna could nurse in peace and Zakira could do so with some modesty, which Zakira really appreciated. 

“Yup. You got it.” Zakira smiled happily that he caught on that fast as his whisper sent a delightful shiver down her body. 

“Sorry, whiskers.” Sulaimon apologized when he saw her skin break out in gooseflesh. 

“It’s ok.” Zakira waived off as now she really just enjoyed the sound of his voice as her imagination of how his mouth would feel on her skin while she felt a bit guilty about the thought and fantasy before she hissed a gasp and clenched her jaw before she pulled the cover out to fix her daughter with a look. 

“You bite- you’re done.” Zakira threatened Anna who didn’t seem to like that her view of Sulaimon was obstructed as she looked from her mother to Sulaimon. 

“Anna, no biting Mommy. You bite her, you’re not gonna nurse. Mommy’s body worked hard to make that milk. Don’t bite her.” Sulaimon repeated as he peeked in and locked gazes with her too. 

Anna’s eyes got a bit wide as she then looked from him to her mom with a look of shock. 

“Yeah, you need to listen. We mean it. If you’re hungry, eat. But if you’re gonna bite, you’re not gonna nurse and I’ll just wean you early. I’m not having you bite me on the one of two places you can get milk from.” Zakira leveled before Anna seemed to take a minute to think it over before she picked up nursing.

“Thanks for backing me up.” Zakira thanked him. 

“Of course, always. A mother knows best right?” Sulaimon offered with an easy smile. 

“Yeah, but it’s always great to have back up and support. You have a really nice balance between soft but still firm and authoritative tone to your voice.” Zakira praised. 

“Comes with years of practice and imitating my brothers and brothers in law and my dad.” Sulaimon chuckled softly. 

“Oh, so not something you learned in the army?” Zakira gently teased. 

“No. I learned many things in the army. And I’ve fought my battles. But I’ve also watched my nieces and nephews and it was practically mutiny, because it was just me against at least a dozen of them. I was outmatched and outnumbered and they knew it and took full advantage at first. Thankfully my brothers and brothers in law and my dad have helped me since as well as my sisters and sisters in law. How to be firm, but not harsh. How to be patient but not a pushover. How to be kind but not do them the disservice of spoiling them to the point that they think they’re the masters and thinking they’re in charge and you’re their servant to do their bidding. That doesn’t work. That the parent, or in my case, the adult- and uncle was. I can command a legion of a thousand soldiers, no problem, and lead them head first into battle, no sweat. A dozen kids all at once? It’s a juggling act, only you’re juggling swords that are all out of balance, and on fire and everything is made of paper. A disaster in the making. Just…chaos. No order, all anarchy and mutiny. Well, at first. The more I do it, the better I get at it. Now, it can get a bit hectic, but not as chaotic as it was at first. It was a lesson in humility, I’ll tell you that. I thought I was pretty hot stuff when I made Captain and had my own troop of a hundred soldiers. But that was nothing, those kids brought me to my knees and practically begging for mercy and trying to turn myself into a eunuch just so I wouldn’t have any myself.” Sulaimon readily confessed which got Zakira to laugh. 

“Did you succeed? Did you actually go through with it and chop your own balls off?” Zakira asked in that same teasing tone which got Sulaimon to grin and grow just a bit bashful.  

“No. Tempted. But no. But once I learned how to be the adult in charge and how to wield my authority over those kids without making all of them cry and sob for being too harsh or sharp in tone with them, it got better. And then once I showed them, I was in charge and proved I was in charge and that they could scream and cry all they wanted, I wasn’t going to budge and give them an inch because I knew they could take a mile, and got to talk it out and help them use their words instead of their mouths or claws to express themselves, then it got much better. I’m pretty sure half my battle scars are from them anyway.” Sulaimon revealed. 

“Well at least for Anna’s sake, you’ve learned that much at least.” Zakira offered before Anna drained that breast and began to climb to the other. 

“Ok, ok, hold your horses.” Zakira placated as she put one breast away and readjusted herself to put Anna to the other breast to nurse as Sulaimon tried to help her change her dupatta to keep her modest. 

“Would you mind putting your arm up and around my shoulders?” Zakira asked before he readily lifted his arm simply had her lean into his side before he, oh so gently and slowly let his arm settle around her shoulders before she seemed to relax and use his arm as a head rest as she led her head rest over his well muscled arm as her eyelids got heavier and heavier. 

“Do you need to lay down?” He asked. 

“Nah, just…I get tired every time she nurses.” Zakira admitted. 

“The night is young. Once everyone figures out cahoots, then it’s on to…psh…any number of games. It’s when I’m waiting for Bullshit.” Zakira smiled as her eyes closed serenely. 

“Excuse me?” Sulaimon asked. 

“Oh it’s where you tell two truths and a lie. And everyone else has to figure out which is the line of bullshit, or the lie. It’s really fun, because the more you go, you can’t use the same three things, and then you really have to get creative to use in the game. And some people are easy to read and you can very easily tell which one is the lie.” Zakira offered. 

“But you should ace that game. Humans have very expressive faces. You should catch on pretty quick, cause everyone has their little things that either they do with their faces or tells in what they do or how they hold themselves. Others, you’d swear all of them are the truth and others you’re pretty sure all of them are the lie. It works best when there’s alcohol involved because then the truths and the lies get more outlandish. But then that’s when you really get to the really good stuff too.” Zakira smiled as she relaxed and breathed a breath of relief to finally get the overfull ache from her breasts from milk released. 

“Well, then I’ll give you a secret to use against us rakshasi, kajit and tabaxi and catfolk in general.” 

“Ears and tail thwaps?” Zakira guessed. 

“Well, yeah, there’s subtleties to it. And yes, there’s expressions in both. Body language, posture and fidgeting tell on us just as much.” Sulaimon divulged. 

“So that thwapping that guy is doing with his tail on the floor over there, that’s irritation and frustration?” Zakira guessed as she didn’t even bother opening her eyes, just turned her head and nodded to the sound before settling back in. 

“Yup.” He admitted before Zakira cracked an eye open. 

“Black tiger with white stripes, his tail is rattling like a rattle snake. What’s that?” She asked as she nodded over to him. 

“Oh that’s excitement and happiness.” Sulaimon revealed. 

“And the one with lazy flicking, boredom?” Zakira guessed. 

“That or thinking, usually serious thought.” Sulaimon gently corrected. 

“Ah, so what are you seriously thinking about then?” Zakira asked once she noticed Sulaimon’s tail do the same as it laid next to him and the tip slowly flicked back and forth. 

“What I want to make you for lunch or dinner when we go to my parent’s house whenever I get the message to them.” 

“Mmm. I see.” Zakira nodded as she closed her eyes again. 

“What should I bring?” She asked. 

“Nothing, you’d be the guest.” 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it. I don’t eat at tables where I’m not allowed to add anything to. If your parents open up their home, I should be a gracious guest right? How do I do that?” Zakira asked. 

“Show up.” He admitted. 

“And?” Zakira prodded as Sulaimon took a deep breath in and slowly let it exhale as he had to think about it as the flicking of his tail got a little faster. 

“Honestly, they’d be happy to meet you and have you and show their own hospitality. So, you really don’t need to bring anything but yourself and Anna.” Sulaimon repeated. 

“Fine, spice mix it is, I’ll put strip peppers in it.” Zakira replied with a shrug and a smug grin. 

“Oh no, Zara-Joy already had me try those. Way too spicy for the kids.” Sulaimon quickly shook his head no, while his eyes went wide with fear. 

“There’s more than one kind. Some of them are as sweet as cherry tomatoes, others are the spiciest thing to put in your mouth and would tempt you to strip your clothes off and in your case, shave your fur off. I’d use the mild ones. They have just enough kick to tingle the lips but not burn. But they have really good flavor. Of course, I guess I could just give them some seeds to them too, if the kids eat the spice level that tonights meal was served at, they’ll like it just fine, if anything I think the kids would giggle to feel the tingle.” She mused. 

“Ok, that would be quite good then. They would love that.” Sulaimon had to admit. 

“Figured.” She grinned before Anna finished nursing and was halfway into Suliamon’s chest before Zakira could even get her breast back into her top, but Sulaimon was ready and able to get her with his one free arm. 

“There, better now you got a full belly?” He asked as he let her sit on his arm and use her arms up on his chest before he noticed the milk still around her mouth began to drip down, and without thinking, he licked her mouth clean which got Anna to squeal and wiggle and bounce in delight while Sulaimon tried not to get milk drunk himself because while he was nursed as a baby, he hadn’t gotten any since weaning and Zakira’s was…way too delicious. 

But the act got Zakira to laugh as she finished putting her breast and pulled the dupatta off from being wrapped around her chest and moved the pillow that Anna had laid on to keep her arms from having to hold Anna’s full weight while she drank. 

“Good?” Zakira asked Sulaimon before his ears laid down bashfully. 

“Yeah, it’s milk.” Sulaimon sheepishly offered with a shrug. 

“Mmmhmm.” Zakira hummed as she giggled through her nose. 

“Whose ready for Bullshit?” Zakira asked the group that was still in a circle in the living room. 

“I am!” All of the visitors from Willow began before Zakira got in and sat down on the pillow she had been using for Anna as the group let them into the circle as Sulaimon sent a message home that he would be bringing his protectee, Zakira and her daughter over to the house for a meal. 

“You go first Zakira.” They urged her. 

“Ok, 1. Anna has never pooped and threw up on me at the same time. 2. My house has the pantheon of Marsaier’s gods carved and painted on the walls. 3. There were 177 dunes of sand visible from the north side of the road between Willow and The Crown City.” 

“Three’s bullshit!” Almost all of them answered. 

“Nope. One. Anna was only four months old when she puked and pooped on me in bed at the same time.” Zakira proudly proclaimed as everyone laughed while groaning at the same time at how disgusting that was. 

“Why’d you count the dunes?” Sulaimon asked. 

“Boredom.” Zakira shrugged. 

“Your turn.” Zakira urged Sulaimon. 

“Oh um. 1. I was the youngest captain and youngest commander to be appointed in King Amit’s Army. 2. I have been on over 100 blind dates since I was appointed as a Captain that never resulted in a second date, 3 is… I have 216 weapons, six sets of armor but only 4 sets of the army uniform.” He proposed. 

“Number 2 is bullshit.” Most of them suggested. 

“Nah, I’m calling 3 bullshit, there’s no way you only have four sets of the uniform. But I believe all the other numbers are correct.” Zakira said. 

“That’s true. I only have three sets of the uniform.” Sulaimon admitted. 

“How?!” All the other soldiers asked. 

“Less to wash and dry myself. Otherwise my rank is a pin to pin into the shoulders of the regular uniform.” Sulaimon shrugged. 

“How do you have 216 weapons?!” Most of the people of Willow asked. 

“Yes.” Sulaimon confirmed. 

“Why so many sets of armor?” The others asked. 

“Well, there’s the regular training armor, the testing armor, the official deployment armor, which comes with a spare and then a formal fancy set for official ceremonies and then the last one is worn specifically for coronations.” Sulaimon listed off. 

“Why only three sets of the uniform?” Zakira asked. 

“One being worn, the second is dirty and in soapy water, soaking so the dirt and dust gets out of it before I can finish washing them when I’m done training for the day, the second is already up and drying in the sun, ready to be worn the next day.” Sulaimon smiled proudly.

“Simplicity and complexity, I like it.” Zakira smiled approvingly. 

“Thanks.” He nodded before he got a message back from his parents. 

“What’s that? New marching orders?” Zakira asked. 

“No, I sent a message home about your interest in meeting my mother. They want to have you over for lunch or even dinner tomorrow.” Sulaimon offered. 

“Oh, uh, which is better for them?” Zakira asked. 

“Either or, your choice.” Sulaimon. 

“Lunch is more informal.” Zakira decided. 

“Lunch it is then.” Sulaimon nodded and wrote down her reply and gave it back to the messenger. 

“I’ll need to go to the Spice District tomorrow morning then.” Zakira urged him. 

“We will definitely do that then.” Sulaimon readily agreed. 

After games, they all started to get sleepy and Sulaimon walked Zakira, the moment they tried to part, Anna began to cry like she was being tortured in between trying to nurse to go to bed. 

So once she had nursed her fill but still cried incessantly, Zakira finally caved and called Sulaimon into the room. 

“Sulaimon, Help.” Zakira said tiredly as she was sitting in bed, propped up by pillows and was near tears herself because of how exhausted she was from the rollercoaster of the ride the day was. 

“I got her.” Sulaimon reassured her as he quickly slipped into the room, the only sign he had done so, being the white of his shorts and the way the light reflected off of the back of his iris’ as he fought not to practically get into bed with her and hold her too. So he picked Anna up from Zakira’s arms and pulled her into his own as her cries started to lesson considerably. 

“Sweetheart, it’s time for bed. Come on now. Your Mommy’s had a very long and tiring day. We need to sleep.” He said before he cradled Anna into his own chest as Sulaimon paced the room, making sure to stay in the low lights coming into it from the windows so that Zakira could still watch him if she felt she needed to as he just kept purring, rocking and humming to Anna as Zakira gave him an appreciative smile and rearranged the pillows to simply lay back and tried to get some rest in the bed, even as attractive as the sight of a half naked Sulaimon was in the low moonlight. 

Anna fought sleep and kept an iron grip on his fur on his chest and neck in her fists and refused to let go, even in light sleep. But Sulaimon was undeterred and kept with it, keeping his humming soft and kept his purring loud enough to settle Anna further into sleep as he walked around the room but mostly stayed to the foot of the bed. Once Anna finally slipped into deeper sleep and finally loosened her grip did he pull her hands off of his fur and kissed them sweetly nonetheless before kissing her temple as he changed his hold on her carefully so that she was laying down in his arms rather then on his chest but kept her close to make sure she wouldn’t wake up, she still turned and curled up to his chest, even in sleep and tried to grab at the shorter fur of his chest. But once she slipped back into a deep sleep again, her hold fading again, did he finally stop humming the lullaby’s his mother always sang and hummed to him and his siblings growing up. 

“There. Get some sleep Zakira.” He breathed as he passed her back into Zakira’s hold in the bed. 

“Thank you Sulaimon.” She thanked him as she grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it gratefully as she put Anna snuggly next to her in the bed and curled her whole body around her daughter. 

Sulaimon smiled softly and fondly before he left the room and closed the new door as quietly and softly as he could. 

Then he pulled a blanket and a pillow and pulled the chaise lounge that was at the bottom of his own bed and put it right on the other side of the door, not wanting to be any farther than he had to be from them as he kept an ear out for any noise inside the room. 

Once he was asleep himself Wennet herself, taking the form of a lilac bunny, seemed to slip into the room by shadows. She considered him and was pleased by his efforts to be respectful to Zakira and mindful of her needed space yet protective enough to even guard her door at night and granted him very restful sleep, even as little of it that he would be getting. That even though he would only be sleeping for a handful of hours, that his sleep would be as restful and restorative to him as if he would be getting more than a dozen and granted him very pleasant dreams and hints at his future so he would remained patient, kind, and focused during the day. She also granted the same to Zakira, sensing how much Zakira needed the same while also blessing her with pleasant, enlightening and inspiring dreams as well so that her heart and mood would be lightened and she would be much more conducive to letting go of her pain, sorrow, anger and hurt and actually accept Sulaimon’s attention and affection and love and return it and come back to her former, happier self before she slipped out of the room and went around to the others who had come to The Crown City from Willow. It wasn’t too long before Anna had woken up as well and started to fuss which immediately woke up Sulaimon, his eyes snapping open and he immediately sat up and moved to get up and back into the room but then he heard Zakira’s gentle singing and humming and he couldn’t help but gasp softly at it’s ethereal beauty. Then he paid close attention to hear that she was humming and singing the same lullabies that Sulaimon had sung earlier. But coming from her, they sounded better than they ever could have. His heart melted as he swooned and laid back down, now that Anna had quieted down and let Zakira’s voice lull him back to sleep.

[papermonkeyism]

For the new year, I wish I'll get to hang out with people again.

This past year has been, frankly, pretty miserable, specially since early summer-ish when my DnD group went on a months long break. Wasn't the first one, nor the last one, but definetely the worst one. Don't really have other friends locally, aside from one old school mate.

Honestly it's been pretty bad ever since the start of the pandemic when we stopped hanging out outside of DnD sessions and my fave coffee places closed down along with couple of my fave restaurants, and I just... Stopped having a social life, but now it's so much worse. As said, I have one (1) friend outside of the group I sometimes go shopping with, and one of my DnD buddies hangs out with me maybe once a week to borrow my laundry machine for couple hours, and they are probably the only reasons I haven't broken completely so far.

But neither of them are storytelling people the same way I am, so I'm kinda holding back when we hang out, as I can't really go all in with my special interests on them.

Downsides of being socially awkward introvert.

The summer break from roleplaying was a trigger for anxiety and maybe the worst creative block of my life so far. As someone who basically thinks with a sketchbook it was pretty fucking stressful not being able to draw anything for several months!

I crave creation and storytelling, but my brain is made of goo. Like imagine if someone came and asked you to pick a water from a pool and hand it to them? But it's liquid! Can I get a cup or something, but they just scoff. You got hands, right, just pick one up and hand it over. So I'm just left trying to scoop handfuls of wet and grabbing nothing. Kinda how it feels.

Started marathoning Crit Role to distract myself from the worst of it and to have at least some kind of creative energy in my life, and consumed what must be over half a thousand hours of role playing. At least that was fun!

And when nights started stretching and seasonal depression started to creep into my already not-doing-good brain I started my routine of evening walks because at some point I was legitimately going stir crazy enough to explode otherwise.

It's also been my first full year of joblessness in a long while. I was already having hard time by the end of last year, because my brain has difficulty handling full time jobs for long stretches of time, and ten months in a row not being able to recharge was starting to weight on me, so I had made a plan to get my brain sorted out with the ADHD diagnosis and hopefully medication before applying for jobs again, but turns out the process took the entire year, and then some, and I still don't have the meds yet. I have been given the thumbs up on them, but turns out me stressing for the better part of a year has triggered blood pressure problems (runs in my family, so honestly probably just a matter of time, but it's still very inconvenient to happen right now), so I have to sort that out first before it's safe to try stimulant medication.

And then there was the death in the family and a close friend's cancer diagnosis (fingers crossed!) and I just haven't had a great time, you know.

January's going to go into medical stuff in the hope of getting the ADHD meds, so maybe I could one day grab those thoughts again. The unemployment office is also pestering me again, so we'll see how that'll go.

I think I'll see if I can make myself a regular at the new cat cafe in town. Cats make everything better. Also looking forwards to actualizing a tattoo plan or two! Springtime is coming too, eager to continue my evening walk routine with returning sunlight. And I really, really, really need to create something again.

So here's for what I sincerely hope to be a better year than this past one! Cheers.

[tyrannosaurusprex]

It’s in the Little Things

parks and rec | leslie x ben | T | ~500 words

Note: Set during 3x02 Flu Season. I was thinking about Leslie and Ben’s friendship progressing and, well, here’s this.

Edit: Full version on ao3!

*** “Nice work, Leslie.”

It’s not like it’s the first time she’s ever seen him smile, but it’s never been like this.

He’s pulled a thousand of those tight-lipped smiles, careful and restrained like he was gently reaching into his heart (if numbers-robot-jerk-face-turd-boys even have hearts) and sectioning off a small piece of it to be let out. Little by little, bit by bit, as if there’s nothing out there that’s worth his full affection.

And then there was a litany of those smug fuck-you smirks that time her plan to set up Ann with Chris backfired spectacularly. Okay, maybe not her best moment, but he made it like twenty times worse. And could you really call those smiles? Typical that the only thing that would make him happy is other people’s downfall.

So, yeah. Sure, she’s seen Ben Wyatt smile.

But the expression that’s on his face right now is something that Leslie has never seen before at all.

It lights up his whole face, transforms it, so much so that it seems like she’s never really met him before, his eyes so bright she has to look away. It’s somehow unabashed but meek at the same time—and of course his face is an oxymoron, stupid and nonsensical—half-embarrassed like he can’t believe he’s actually letting something make him happy.

And all he’s looking at is her in a hospital gown and a stark white room.

Well let her tell ya something, Ben Wyatt is annoying and unflappable and he deserves to be embarrassed, and she’s going to make it happen as much as she can, now.

“Nice work to you, too!” she replies.

Because yeah, she totally crushed that speech but by the end of it her consciousness started to droop like a melting ice cream cone and she never would have gotten through the whole thing without his help.

(Plus, she never would have been able to steal all that flu medicine if he hadn’t driven her to the hospital, either. So.)

Ben mumbles something about the chicken soup as he backs away to the door, and Leslie’s still debating if she wants to eat it in the first place (there’s a concerning amount of vegetables in there) but she’s so accustomed to being the person who gives the gifts that whenever it happens the other way around, it kind of takes the breath out of her each time.

“Thank you for that.”

“Okay,” he says. It’s stilted and awkward and nothing like anything she’s heard from him before. He kind of lingers in the doorway for a moment, backing away like he can’t keep his eyes off her.

The way he’s looking at her is honestly so adorable she wants to put him in her pocket and never let him go.

Okay, where had that come from? Flu meds. Yeah, that’s right, she was dosed up a little while ago and they haven’t worn off yet. That’s all.

The waffles will get rid of any weird thoughts about dorky auditors in bright blue-and-green plaid and god, what even is that fashion sense?

Yeah, that’s better. Waffles really do fix everything.

(She tries to ignore that it’s Ben who got the waffles for her in the first place.)

[romanticfistfightz]

a list of everything that went wrong today bc if i dont complain and joke about it ill think too much . under read more cuz its 20 points.

my mother got a speeding ticket bc she was 10km/h over . on an empty road at 5am but it wasnt cops ther ebut the one that flashes its not happened to me exactly but it went wrong

had to pay 260pln at the airport cuz the fucking ryanair app didnt work properly and didnt give me my boarding pass when i definitely clicked download and then gave me an "unknown error"

already stressed went to the gate . looked at my boarding pass . only one bag. fuck

paid anothe 200 to be able to take my luggage with me already sweating and shaking (at least the vodka in dutyfree was on sale)

the dude taking my payment told me to take out electronics and meds cuz "these bags get lost sometimes" causing me to die instantly

i gave my bag to a dude next to my plane so he can put it inside the plane with other checked in bags . which should make me more normal cuz like i gave it to him and saw him walk to put it in

didnt help. i was already panicking. what if he took it to a different plane (there were no other planes) . what if he took it for himself and hid it (its bright fucking yellow someone would see it) . what if the plane runs it over (????)

had my adhd toy and was very nervously playing with it and sweating and the lady sitting next to me asked if everythings okay (probably assuming im scared of flying/planes/heights) . so that was nice of her i told her im having an awful day but thanks for asking

the emergency instructions that they give every time made me worse. the plane shook when flying up (normal) and i was sure its crashing . the force of flying up felt different i was sure the engines stopped and died

realized i need to throw up NOW so i went to the bathroom and threw up a bit. never threw up thousands of meters into the air

didnt wanna flush it cuz what if it sucks out too much and sucks out my bag and it falls out

the rest of the flight was fine i chilled out n saw mt etna which is fun i always wanted to see a volcano

landed. started freaking out a bit cuz my bag wasnt coming out for a long time (normal time) and what if they lost it the numbes were slightly different what if somone already took it- oh nvm here it is

cool going for the bus oh wait i need to have coins to pay for the ticket i just bought a carbs free(?) beer for 1.90eur at the airport

wanted to smoke so i wanted to grab my cigarettes from my backpack and realized half of my shampoo spilled out for some fucking reason and the ziplock wasnt closed fully so my backpack (with my laptop charger cables and most important handbound physical copy of unholyverse which was a gift from my bf) was in shampoo and i had no tissues

okay crisis averted it wasnt as bad as i thought. oh shit im almost late for my bus the next ones in 1.5h

managed to get in . and it even had ac. doesnt matter the zip on my backpack broke but after a 10min fight i fixed it

my phones at 7% i need to climb uphill to get to my hotel . the checkins not until 3pm (it was 11.30 at the time its 12.30 now)

okay fine i have an adapter ill charge my phone a bit and go for a walk . yeah sure lmao the adapter doesnt work apparently so im charging my phone from my laptop

well at least theres two swimming pools so ill go swim for the first time in 8yrs.

[icedmetaltea]

just vent stuff

Welp went on and withdrew from my classes cause there was absolutely no way I was gonna be able to catch up after all this. Literally been in a foggy haze all week, though I prefer that over the anxiety, which hasn't been as bad recently since it's been cool, but it's supposed to go up again in a few days woooooo

I made a new application for ebt but haven't heard back about that yet ofc since it was on friday but man. I've just had this dread looming over me, wondering if soon I'm not gonna be able to feed myself. If the agoraphobia doesn't get better soon I won't be able to go to a food pantry either.

It feels like everything is done for. I'll never become a therapist. I'll never finish college. I guess that's for the best since the alternative is to be crippled by student debt I'll never pay off but still... it hurts. I've been trying to get a fucking associates degree for like 6 years

I guess I should've known to give up sooner, maybe I could've looked into a trade or something. Not like there are any I can do from home, at least as far as I know

Feels like I've taken a thousand steps back with my mental health. And life in general. What am I even here for??

So yeah I've just been eating and sleeping, and eating and sleeping, distracting myself in between but it just goes on and on and on

Not really much else I can do. We're all gonna die soon anyways. Earth is fucked. The climate is fucked. The government is fucked. Affordable housing? Non-existent. Jobs? Hardly any hiring, especially not for someone with 0 work experience. Wars? Everywhere

I'm also having the thought that if I am able to get on disability, I'll be looked down on. Because I don't "look" disabled, and you know how many people treat the disabled badly just for not contributing to capitalism. Your worth is based on how much money you make, how much labor you're able to give...

I wish assisted suicide was a thing. Why should people be forced to live and suffer? Does it make the government feel better to quietly kill people off, by rendering them homeless, taking away access to food and water and meds?? I know all I have to look forward to is a life of poverty and more and more suffering as things in the US get worse and worse. Just put a gun to my head and shoot.

Ha, a funny thought. I was watching a show with my parents a while back and there was a firing squad. Dad said the reason they had so many people shoot at the same time was that only one or two was loaded with a real bullet and nobody knew which it was, so nobody would feel like a murderer. Nothing's changed, huh?

[violeteyedkiller]

Recovery’s a Long and Winding Road

(A FUN (oh my god the feels) snippet thread from a confrontation between Anthea  (@notyouraveragesecretary) and Stan after Viktor had attacked her and they discuss (aka yell and shout until Anthea’s pain meds kick in) how they need more transparency between them and how Stan might be able to help her recovery)

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

Anthea:  sound escapes her lips, like she’s forcing herself to not just shut off, and after a clench and unclench of her jaw she speaks again. ‘Whether you intended to or not, you painted yourself a victim to me. You spent hours telling me stories of scars and wounds, about the death an destruction that chased you for simply being you. But you omitted so much. You omitted the atrocities you committed. You knew that if you told me them it would not be good, so you omitted them. You manipulated the narrative between us.’

Stan: "You expect me to just bring it up on a Wednesday afternoon? You think I want to tell you about all the shit I regret about myself? You don't think I fear that if you knew all that shit you'd leave? That it's so wrong of me to wish I could just start over? But I should know fucking better. Because that shit is always going to come back and bite the ones I care about. I can't fucking get rid of it. Guess I should suffer forever because of my past mistakes. But what about you? What about you Anthea. Do you think I'm going to hold all that I don't know about you over your head? No. I'm not going to do that. Because whatever you don't want to tell me isn't my business until you feel like making it my business as far as I'm concerned."

Anthea: ‘You’re suffering forever because you won’t address it! You think I want to know about you from a half zombie creature who gets off on shoving a blade between my rib cage? You think that’s how I wanted to learn that? Your past makes it our business, and hiding this from me, that’s made it a million times worse!’

Stan: "I KNOW! I fucking know that!? You don't think I know that and you don't think this was the first time and you don't think I should have fucking known better!? And how fucking scared for you I was? That I would lose you and it would be my fucking fault!?"

Anthea: ‘You weren’t honest with yourself! You weren’t honest with me! You put the people you love in harms way to protect yourself and you should have not been so naive to think I would have never known, that anyone would have never known!’

Stan: "I wish it were me! Every time I wish it were me! I'm the one that deserves to get hurt but that's not the way it fucking goes. That's not how the fucking world works. Only the people I love get hurt. I tried shielding you from that. I tried saving you from that but it hurt too much to let you go. What the fuck do you want me to do about that Anthea. Tell me what to do because clearly I have no fucking clue"

Anthea: ‘I want you to be...Honest with me-about everything so that I can make my own decisions about you, about us! That’s all I ever wanted from you, from day one: honesty!’

Stan: "Anthea I don't know how to talk about my personal day to day life how am I going to know when and how to bring up thousands of years of history."

Anthea: ‘Maybe next time you talk about how humans hunted you down you can include a footnote about how you liked to tear them to shreds like little toys because it made you feel better to display how much power you have’ ‘Just a thought’

Stan: His mouth will open and shut, twisting into a growl, grimace, purse to a straight line. Hands are thrown up. He paces. Looking to her. Looking away. Hands on hips. "Alright. So now you know everything, huh? Because of what he told you? So what are you still doing here. Huh?"

Anthea: ‘I’m here because I love you?????? And despite what he says I can see both good and bad of people ??? People are multi-faceted, and when you work in government long enough you begin to see that no one being is black and white. So I’m here because despite what I’ve been told I still love you.’ A pause. ‘And also I’m still in a walker wheel chair combo and I am 85 percent dependent on another person so it’s either with you or the physical therapy facility and I really don’t like that place.’

Stan:  He's at a loss for words again. But eventually he sighs, head drooping. "I wasn't trying to keep it from you. It just isn't something...I'm not proud of who I was then, Anthea. And I'm trying to be better now. That's why I wasn't looking for any other reasons to give you to leave me. Because I love this life we are creating for each other....but I guess it won't mean anything if ... If we don't even know who we are living with.."

Anthea: She is glad the fight is dissolving-both of them de-escalating it rather quickly. Anthea doesn’t realize she’s got her teeth clenched until she unclenches them again. ‘It’s okay to not be proud of parts of you, and what makes me the most upset is not that you didn’t tell me, but that I had someone else tell me, and I know that even that is a flawed view. ‘

Stan: "I wasn't expecting Viktor to come back. You'd think after all the times I've killed him to get rid of that part of my past and for him to keep resurfacing...." Perhaps he talked about killing him too casually. "I don't know what he told you...but his view is usually skewed. He thinks back on those days of bloodshed fondly. I ended it with him when I realized how foolish I was thinking that I was making any sort of difference or bringing any sort of justice by senseless killing."

Anthea: ‘....yeah well he did come back and he’s still around so we still have a problem.’ She has no comment on his previous life with Viktor, it doesn’t matter now.

Stan: "You don't have to-" What. She doesn't have to make it her problem? Was he really about to say that to her while she was still recovering from his attack? There was a long pause as he tries to frame it better. "...Maybe I'll have better luck with dealing with him with your help.."

Anthea: She waits for the stupid comment, but he backtracks, and for that she is grateful. Still, at the mention of helping, Anthea sighs, looking for the right angle to sit down at. ‘I doubt that, but I appreciate the vote of confidence’

Stan: "Brute force hasn't gotten rid of him. I think wit's got a better chance. After all, he had the capacity to kill you, and didn't. I think that means something." He was hoping that sounded as confident as he was trying it to be. He makes a small move to get closer to her to help

Anthea: ‘It means hes fucking stupid-‘ she scoffs, finally finding the right angle to sit at, ‘Do you know where you could find him?’

Stan: Stan couldn't stop a chuckle from moving past his lips. "Well..that is true." His hand moves to rub the back of his neck, still a bit unsure where they stood right now. "I don't but I might know someone who could find him. But for now..other than making sure this doesn't happen again let's just get you healed up...alright?"

Anthea: She seems annoyed by that blasé answer, and a crease forms in her brow. ‘Stan,’ she says, perhaps sharper than she meant, ‘You heard what they said. It will be years before I’m healed completely, by then he will be gone.’

Stan: His brows furrow. He hadn't really heard what the doctors had said. Well he had..but it hadn't registered. He just wanted to get her out of that hospital. To get her better.. His thumb works furiously over his knuckles.

Anthea: He’s not paying attention now, and that doesn’t help her mood. The frown deepens on her lips, and she reaches across the couch for a pillow to lay on. ‘Fine. It’s fine.’

Stan: His hand moves to take her's, needing to clear his throat before talking after keeping his jaw set as tight as it was. "Anthea." It was his 'this is serious' voice "..If I were able to heal you....with the risk of.. complications..would you..accept it.."

Anthea: She’s only half listening, serving the same energy he’d given her back to him, trying to curl onto her least broken side, in the hopes of finally letting the painkillers wash over her. ‘What the fuck are you talking about, heal me?’

Stan: Stan pulls his hand back. "I'm trying to lay everything out. Like you want. I can infect you with my Darkness. Enough to heal you. But it could have side effects..And it's not something I want to put on you if you don't want it..but..It's also what I did to Viktor when he was dying...not saying that is going to happen to you..He was much worse off but.." He could feel his core tightening. There was a reason he had swore never to do it again..but he knew if Anthea knew he could help and didn't...

Anthea: The second he mentions Viktor she closes her eyes, knowing all too well what had become of him. Anthea doesn’t want that, doesn’t even want to take the chance of that-she had escaped with most of her physical features in tact (the face, anyway) and the idea that side effects meant she could look like that....worried her. ‘No-‘ it’s firm and she means it, ‘I don’t want that, I don’t want that to happen to me. I will recover, it will be painful, sure, and long, but I will recover. I don’t need an instant fix.’

Stan:  He raises a hand. "No. Not how he looks now..." Shit why did it all have to be so complicated. "I can give you the whole long story if you want but I don't think you want to talk about him right now. But the short of it is that he mutated. That's the only time I've heard of something like that happening. But I understand and I'm not going to press it upon you..It is your body." He scratches at his arm, thumb still working over fingers in worry. But whatever he was going to add, he decides to keep it to himself. He had to respect her decision to go through it the 'natural' way if that's what she wanted.

Anthea: She’s confused, but it could be the meds. ‘I’m confused, are there side effects or not?’

Stan: "Well..I would be infecting you with my Darkness. I would only put enough to heal the lacerations. It could still take some time because I can't just flood your system with it and..it would create a connection between us..Physical..and mental. Best I could liken it to is an empathetic link...A more dire risk would be if I put too much and it start to do more harm than good..but..well...you've already gained some tolerance from our love making to be honest..."

Anthea: Oh god this is so much to process and she’s doing such a poor job at it. Anthea’s brain is trying so hard to understand all the things he’s just said, to figure out where the pieces fit, how it works. But there are clouds and it’s a battle, and it takes a long time for her to connect the dots. ‘What about the bones and organs and tendons and things?’

Stan: "That would take more Darkness..And that's where we could get into territory of it beginning to convert you. Which could lead to more complications if not kept in check. Conversion can be...painful in its own way if rushed. You're stable..so that wouldn't be needed..Unless you wouldn't mind being less human." A poor attempt at trying to make this a lighter conversation than it was. "But this would be far from the first time I've done something like this."

Anthea:  For the first time since the conversation started, she reaches out for him, slender fingers looking for a hand to hold. ‘Conversion into what?’ Thats all her brain had the ability to process right then, the rest? She would not remember, at least not now. But she is sure it’s kind.

Stan: He takes her hand. "Into something...more like me..." He could tell the drugs were really starting to set in. He moves over to adjust her pillows. "But we won't make that decision until you're more clear headed." He would try to get her comfortable

Anthea: ‘We could try it-‘ she hums, still searching for his hand, ‘maybe fix the one on my thigh.’ It’s been bugging her since she’d gotten home-64 stitches from hip bone down, where he flayed her wide open, a wound that could have killed her but amazingly did not. ‘It’s itchy, and been bothering me.’

Stan: He takes her hand as he saw her reaching out. "You get some rest first..." He wanted to make completely sure this was what she really wanted. That she understood. No more doing so against other's will. He wanted no chance for him to be doing this selfishly. Violet eyes look down to the bandages.

Anthea: She curls their fingers together, pulling the arm so that it’s tucked under her chin, snuggling it tight with her. A sigh escapes her lips, soft, feeling herself slip away to sleep. ‘I love you,’ she hums, right before she heads off to sleep

[one-abuse-survivor]

Hi! Dissociation anon here, with a lil positive update after quite the few months:D How have you been? I hope you are doing well:>

So, I officially spend like 90% of my time 3,5 hours away from my abusers and their dysfunction while I get that education!! Med school is all nine circles of hell, btw, but in the times in which I am not sleep deprived beyond belief after having to prepare for three big tests and write five projects in three days, I am enjoying myself quite a bit! Also formaldehyde stinks like a bitch and cadavers look much grayer than you might think, but that's besides the point.

Honestly the first few months after leaving were HARD, but then again, I am the idiot who decided to unpack their own trauma without a professional therapist and with a tiny support system as soon as I could. Though to be honest, as grueling as the trauma work was, it definitely was worth it, as now, seven months in, I have much less prominent issues and am generally a thousand percent mentally healthier than I used to be. Still dissociate occasionally, though, because I guess some things never change lmao

But I've made quite a few new friends in med school and honestly that helps a lot to deal with any bad days that come with traumatic memories resurfacing, so that's neat!)

Bad thing is - the drama in the dysfunctional family system has gotten a lot worse since I left. Good thing - due to my physical absence I don't need to deal with it:D It's because of the economic crisis the country is in, you know, but I needn't worry!! There is never enough doctors, so even the newbies get snatched as early as possible (I kid you not, I literally had a "You wanna work for us when you finish med school?" Offer when I went to a clinic for a routine check up two weeks ago, and I have five more years of studying left) So, despite the general nation-wide spread of gloom, personally I'm feeling pretty good about the future, and that's definitely a first!

So like, let this be testament to anyone out there struggling to the fact that getting out of an abusive situation is completely possible, and life, in fact, can get better! So like, good luck to all of the other anons and good luck to you, as well!:D

Hi again!!!! It's so nice to hear from you, and I'm so so happy things are going well in med school! I have an irl friend who's also studying medicine in uni, so I have some idea of how nightmarish that can be 😅 I'm really glad you're enjoying yourself in between all of it despite the stress!

I can't even begin to imagine how awful it must be to unpack your trauma without professional support! The first months after I left my mother were also horrible even with help, but luckily everything started changing for the better soon afterwards. I'm so glad you're doing so much better now, and I hope things keep changing for the better for you! It's so so great to hear you've made friends and don't have to deal with your family drama anymore and the future is looking good 😊

I second this message: life can absolutely be better after abuse, even if you can't bring yourself to believe or envision that right now.

Also, thanks for asking! I'm doing well, just now recovering from Covid and trying to get back on my feet, but other than that things are looking better for me too ❤️ sending a big virtual hug!

[finsterhund]

Roommate is saying about how he'll need me to help out more with money AGAIN this month and I swear to god I am so close to just fucking running away and SQUATTING ILLEGALLY ON MY GRANDPARENTS FARM. FOR FUCKS SAKE I FUCKING WANT TO DIE FUCKIBNG INFLATION MONEY AND RENT IS TOO HIGH AND I CAN NEVER CSTCH A FUCKIBG BREAK.

Screaming and crying and throwing up. We need to start publicly executing the horrifically wealthy again. I can't fucking take this anymore. All I want to fucking do is hug puppy dog and have a quilt and eat more than once a day and live in a house and not have to worry for every fucking second.

This species built the fucking pyramids and domesticated grains like twenty different fucking times and walked on the goddamn fucking moon and built a fucking instant worldwide communication network and we still have fucking class and poverty and shit. It's all fucking great britain's fault and by extension it's all fucking the Romans fault. I want to go back in time and stop the industrial revolution by ushering in a plague of hundred years endless winter or some shit. I want to make it so that the black death only killed upper class people. I want to just fucking hurt meteors at the fucking planet until everything fucking stops and we can go back to being nomadic hunter gatherers again. Maybe with some metal working as a treat. Roving gangs of citystate barbarians is infinitely better than this shit. A hundred thousand years ago my stupid special brain would make me a respected expert on an important niche topic like identifying safe to eat food or stonemasonry or whatever the fuck but now I'm just a little bitch boy who lives in a tiny ass room and gets chump change as an apology from the government for being disabled. I am seriously at my limit.

My lockjaw is so bad I'm having trouble chewing food and I don't think I've slept in the past 48 hours.

My only reprieve is that my ADHD meds allows me to forget how much I want to die and deep dive into textile arts tutorials from fucking sites made twenty years ago.

It's 5AM now and I was supposed to have a bath and go to bed but I'm just unable to do anything except grind my teeth because of how much my jaw already hurts which only makes it worse.

[skoolbully-a]

.

[caterpillarcrypt]

Leaving the house is just not worth it anymore

[havecourage-darling]

You’re slipping through my fingertips

The one where Eddie breaks his arm crowd surfing at his concert and the doctor at the ER is his ex-girlfriend he left behind when he got the hell out of Hawkins.

pairing: Rockstar AU! Eddie Munson x ER Doctor Adopted! Hopper Female Reader

wc: 9.5K

warnings/tags: cursing, lovers to exes to strangers to lovers?, post-break up, make up, everything pre/in s4 happened but eddie munson lives because I said so.

A/N: I don’t know why I’ve clung to adopted hopper reader but here we are. I have very little knowledge of how medical field works (my ten thousand nurse/doctor friends would be endlessly disappointed in me!) and bent it a little to fit the plot. Sorry!

Masterlist || AO3

When you were fourteen, you met Eddie Munson.

You were the new kid, first day of high school, and the cherry on top? The new deputy’s kid. Your dad had gotten a job offer in his hometown, Hawkins, and your mom hadn’t wanted to leave New York. After Sara…they fought all the time and when you’d chosen to go with your dad in the divorce, your mom had taken it as a betrayal. You’d begged him to choose anywhere else but he was adamant you’d love it. So here you were, a small, nosey, town in the middle of nowhere.

To your utter mortification, despite your student tour guide’s – Nancy Wheeler – multiple instructions, you couldn’t open your locker.

Anxious, pressure building behind your eyes, you tried for the tenth time. Suddenly, the locker next to yours slammed open and you jumped. A boy with bright wide eyes, a shaved head, and a nice smile blinded you. He’d taken the lock gently from your hands and with a kick to the door, it opened.

“The hinges stick. Jack, the guy who had it before you, always kicked it open.”

“Thanks,” you stammered.

“Yeah, anytime.” He shot you his own shy smile before disappearing around the corner.

And that had been all it took really. You had almost all your classes together that year and he got a kick out of your stories of New York. Eddie was constantly in motion -- hands flying, feet shuffling, head nodding – it was enticing.

After being assigned partners for some English project you couldn’t remember anymore, a few days before thanksgiving, he’d asked you out on a date.

You’d said yes.

And that was the beginning of everything.

Then – a few years later – Will Byers went missing. You got a little sister. Your father died. Eddie was accused of murder. You beat Vecna. Eddie almost died. Your father was alive. The town was too. You’d helped save the world. 

And that was the end of everything.

When you were twenty, Eddie Munson left Hawkins - and you - behind.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to do that?” Claire hissed, her cellphone cradled between her shoulder and her ear. She’d been on hold for a few minutes, making sure everything – as always – was being fixed.

“A thousand times,” Eddie sighed, grunting when the EMTs tightened the sling around his neck. To be fair, Eddie hadn’t crowd surfed in a long time. It was something about being back in Indiana – to where it had all started – that made his skin itch. Hey, he never said he wasn’t reckless.

“This should hold it. We don’t know how bad the break is until you’ve gotten some x-rays so please refrain from moving it as much as you can. How’s the pain level?”

Eddie had experienced worse. A flash of demonic bats clawing at him and your shaking hands covered in his blood danced across his memory before he shoved it to the back of his mind. “It’s not too bad.”

“Is there a chance we can unload in the med bay?” Claire asked, finally putting down her cell phone. “We left the guards back at the arena and they won’t be here for a few minutes due to traffic.”

The EMTs assured his nervous manager that they’d be able to get him into the ER with discretion. “Thanks guys,” Eddie said, remembering the covert look of awe in the driver’s eyes. Corroded Coffin had only recently started selling out arenas and stadiums but Eddie knew what a fan looked like. “If you want me to sign anything, I can do it. My writing hand is still good.” He wiggled his right hand.

“For fuck’s sake Munson,” Claire muttered, her brick of a phone creaking in her grip. She watched as the technician sheepishly handed him three random scraps of paper to sign.

Eddie waited as the doors to the ambulance opened and he was wheeled into a chaotic emergency room. An older nurse walked up to him with a smile and a clip board. “Hello, I’m Nurse Johnson and I’ll be taking you over to one of our private rooms down the hall.”

Claire scrambled to introduce herself and Eddie, mentioning his bandmates who were likely to be by soon.

“Unfortunately, we’ve had a pretty big accident a few hours ago so we’re a little slow tonight. Our senior resident will be by to assess the situation shortly. Here’s the paperwork we’ll need and please rest assured Mr. Munson, we know how to be discreet. The journalists outside are not allowed anywhere inside,” she said, tone firm like she’d beat them herself if she had to.

“Thank you,” Eddie said, shooting the nurse a smile. She patted his good hand and finished setting him up in his bed.

“I can’t believe you’re this much of an idiot,” Claire said, settling in the comfy looking chair next to his bed. Her brows furrowed as she started filling out his paperwork. Eddie tried not to smile; Claire had been there with him since the beginning – the only manager willing to represent Corroded Coffin. “I had a date after the concert you know, life isn’t only centered around you.”  

He clutched his chest, groaning when it pulled on his bad arm. “You’re telling me, that this tiny chunk of rock in this universe, does not revolve around the lead singer?”

“I hate you,” she said dryly. “She was really cute too.”

“Yeah?” Eddie quirked a brow. Claire always had dates – he wasn’t worried for her. “What’s her name?”

“Rain.”

He snorted, seriously? “Sounds like a dud.”

“You always say that!”

“And am I usually wrong?” He asked.

“Yes!”

“What about Brittany? Or Jacob?”

Claire glared at him and Eddie grinned, knowing he had her. “We promised never to say their names out loud again!” Her chair screeched painfully as she stood, clip board clutched to her chest and eyes narrowed in his direction. “I’m taking this to the nurse, you shithead, don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

Eddie laughed as she walked out and shook his head. His arm really didn’t hurt much but he knew it was broken. Sighing, he knew he wouldn’t be able to play with it but he’d probably be fine to sing. What was their next city? Dallas? Chicago? They still had a few more national dates before their break. After those two weeks they were on to London.

Who did they have on standby for guitar? Jimmy? Fiona? Maybe Helene if she wasn’t busy…

“Claire?” Eddie called out. If they wanted to get Helene before she was booked for the year, they’d have to call soon.

The door opened and Eddie suddenly wasn’t sure he hadn’t actually hit head. His chest tightened, his lungs seemed like they didn’t want to work, and he was almost positive the ground shook beneath him.

“Hello sir, I apologize we’re a little short staffed at the moment. I’m Dr. Hopper, I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Let me just grab your chart Mr…” your voice trailed off, and Eddie watched as your hands tightened on the clip board in your hands. Then finally, finally, after almost ten years – your eyes darted back up to his.

“Eddie?”

Jesus Christ did he forget how he loved the way you said his name. “Hey Cap’,” he said, flashes of you in your soccer uniform bubbling to the surface. He’d once lost his voice during the championship junior year – it’d been your first year as captain and he knew how much you’d wanted to win. The image of you hoisting up the trophy in your arms, smile beaming and blowing him a kiss, was not one he’d be likely to forget.

You’d clearly grown up in the last decade. Your uniform in school had been something similar to his, jeans, band t-shirt, and chucks. Seeing you with your hair pinned back, a white coat, and scrubs underneath was…different. A pair of glasses were balanced on the top of your head and he itched to see what you looked like with them on. While the surface of you had changed, the shocked expression on your face sent a pang through his chest – you’d always been easy to read. At least to him. Clearly, not anymore.

“What the fuck?” You said, breaking the spell he’d been under. With a wince he tried to straighten up on the bed but hissed when pain shot through his arm.

He glanced back up at you and he watched a wall fall into place. Your face smoothed, your eyes blank, and you shook your head. “I – uh, I’m so sorry Mr. Munson. That was entirely inappropriate. I was…surprised.”

Mr. Munson? That was Wayne – or shit, his dad – he’d never been called Mr. Munson in his life. Not unless you counted teachers screaming after him.

“Please don’t ever call me that again, I think that hurt more than the arm,” Eddie said, fighting everything within him not to beam when your brow twitched. A little bit of amusement bled into your eyes before they darted down to his chart.

“Do you want me to see if another doctor can treat you?”

“What?” Eddie sputtered. He knew you hadn’t stayed friends but did you hate him that much? “No,” he said, stubbornly.

“Eddie, we dated for six years.”

And goddamn if those hadn’t been the best six years of his life.

“So? Doesn’t the code of ethics or whatever only extend to immediate family members?” He frowned. “If you’re here, I know you’re the best one of the bunch. So, I want you.”

Eddie ignored how the words sounded, the small hollow spot in his chest expanding in your sudden presence.

He watched you swallow visibly, your fingers clenching. “I see it says here you’re in for a fracture? We won’t know the extent of the damage or injury until we’ve gotten x-rays.” At his blank look you sighed. “If it needs surgery, I won’t be the one to do it anyway. You’ll be referred to a specialist I assume, considering the importance of the use of a musician’s arm.”

Wait, surgery? Holy shit, he hadn’t even thought of that.

“Hey, hey, we don’t know how bad it is. It could be a small fracture, a clean break, nothing indicates surgery yet,” you said, hand reaching for him like you were going to touch his good arm but remembered and avoided it at the last minute.

“That’s okay,” he said, eyes on yours. He didn’t know what he was saying at this point. You could suggest that he take of his clothes and run naked in front of the paparazzi outside and he’d do it.  

In fact, it took every ounce of energy he had not to reach out and grab your hand. He’d thought about seeing you so many times over the years, he never thought it’d be in an emergency room. Eddie had been back to Hawkins – of course he had – but you’d never been around. Dustin and Eleven told him you were at school most of the time. Eddie wondered if your smile was the same. Suddenly, a thought bubbled up to the surface, shit – he’d do anything to hear your laugh again.

Instead, you were staring at him like he was something you’d found in the forest. Something interesting to look at but not worthy of too much attention.

“Alright, uh – I’ll put in an order for the necessary scans and I’ll be by to go over the results. If you need any pain management or anything, please let Nurse Johnson know.”

This was wild. You were in his room talking about scans and x-rays when you’d saved the world together. He’d lost his virginity to you. You’d been this entire world and…he was supposed to be able to concentrate on anything else?

“Yeah, alright, thanks,” Eddie breathed, eyes still taking you in. He was working up the courage to ask you to stay, it felt like if you left his eyesight, he’d never see you again. A loud bang startled you both, popping the bubble, and he watched Gareth storm into the room.

“Dude, you’re fucking insane! Claire and Warren are going to hang you by the ba-” his voice got struck in his throat, choking, as he did a double take. “Hopper?”

The tightness in your face smoothed out and your eyes lit up when they turned to Gareth. “Oh my God you haven’t changed a bit!” You accepted his hug. Why the fuck did Gareth get a hug and a smile and he got tense silence?

Because he’d broken your heart. And you’d broken his. His mind reminded him painfully.

“We need to catch up, dude, I can’t believe you’re here. It’s like, kismet!” Gareth said, giving you another hug. You beamed up at him and Eddie bit down on his cheek so hard, he tasted blood. What the fuck? Since when did he ever get jealous of Gareth? “Is this where you ended up doing your residency?”

Wait, what? Gareth knew you’d gone into medicine? Your eyes darted to Eddie’s before skirting away. “Uh, no I did most of my residency in New York. I’m a traveling doctor for now, as a senior resident, I’m only in Indianapolis for a month before I’m going back to Hawkins’ Hospital for a bit. I still haven’t made a decision what offer to take.”

“That’s so cool, I’m happy for you,” Gareth said, giving you another hug. You smiled at him – again! – and tapped your clipboard.

“I’m going to get these orders processed and someone will be by soon to come get you, okay?”

Eddie nodded dumbly, watching you as you all but ran from the room. Gareth turned his head towards Eddie, shit-eating smile widening, and crossed his arms.

Claire walked in, midway through hanging up her phone, and sighed when she saw Gareth. “I don’t even want to know how you got passed security.” She turned to Eddie. “Everything is under control. John is doing damage control at the venue and we’ve got additional security set up to keep the reporters under control. Warren’s outside in the waiting room waiting to slap you for doing something so stupid. I’ve apologized to most of the staff for the disturbance and ordered a bunch of food so they don’t hold it against us.”

“Thanks, C,” Eddie mumbled.

Shooting him a weird look, she turned to Gareth who sighed. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

“Did you, uh, see his doctor?”

Claire nodded. “I introduced myself to her on her way out.”

Eddie glowered. “That’s my ex.”

“So? We run into your exes all the time,” Claire joked, not entirely a lie.

“That’s Hopper,” Gareth said quietly, knowing you were different.

Claire’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. “That’s Hopper? The Hopper? Shit, Munson, you let that go?” Claire shook her head, eyes darting to the door like she could see you through it. “Even I was checking her out. Did you see her hips?”

“You check anything out with a pulse,” Eddie snapped, pathetically glancing at the door for a glimpse of you.

She pointed one long nail at him. “Hypocrite.”

“Alright, so I’ve got your scans back Eddie…” you walked into the room and your voice immediately trailed off at the sight of three sets of eyes on you. “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Munson,” you stammered, “I didn’t know you were with visitors.”

Something in Eddie’s chest wanted to crack in two at the sound of your voice calling him Mr. Munson again. Like you hadn’t spent a whole life together. Like at one point you hadn’t been the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with.

“Did she just call you Mr. Munson?” Warren asked, eyebrows quirking in a way that Eddie knew meant he wanted to laugh.

Your face immediately looked flustered and uncomfortable. Eddie jumped to defend you, not wanting to alienate you. “Ignore him, he’s a jackass. He’s the eldest of seven, it’s in his DNA to take the piss out of people.”

Warren chuckled, nodding and extending a hand out to you. “I’m Warren Hudson. Mr. Munson’s head of security.”

“Ah,” you nodded, clutching the folder in your hands tightly to your body. Eddie’s stomach flipped uncomfortably and he turned to glare at Warren when he realized Warren was checking you out.

Discretely, Eddie reached out to pinch his inner forearm and Warren jumped. “Alright, alright, message received.”

Claire, never one to not seize an opportunity to introduce herself, walked straight up to you. “Hi, I’m Claire – Corroded Coffin’s manager. I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet the Hopper.”

Jesus Christ. Did no one on his team have any sense of decorum? Warren had just spent the last hour in his room refusing to leave because he wanted to meet the girl that ‘had Munson on his knees.’ Claire just flat out told him she wasn’t leaving until they’d finally met.

“For fuck’s sake Claire,” Eddie grumbled.

You, however, seemed to realize his team was fucking with him and smiled widely. “All good things, I hope? I’m Dr. Hopper. Nice to meet you both.”

“Of course! You can’t know Eddie for as long as I do without knowing about you!”

“Really?” Your eyes slid to his and he wanted to sink into the floor.

Before Eddie could get a word in, Claire lit up like a Christmas tree and Eddie groaned. Warren laughed, like the asshole he was, and shook his head. “You’re going to have enough with Claire on your case. I’ll be in the waiting room down the hall if you need me,” Warren said, leaning in to – mercifully – lower his voice. “I see why you’re so hung up on her now.”

“Get out,” Eddie hissed, narrowing his eyes at him.

Warren just laughed, head thrown back and fist bumping you on the way out.

After what felt like an eternity, Claire finished her verbal assault and turned back to him. “I like her Munson, why’d you keep her away for so long?”

You choked, coughing not covering up your amused laughter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m being unprofessional on all accounts tonight,” you said, shaking your head and holding up an x-ray to the light. “The break is clean - it doesn’t even need to be set. I believe the EMTs in the ambulance said you’d managed to knock back into place? How you managed that I don’t even know…”

Claire turned to glare at him. “Because he thought crowd surfing despite the hundreds of times that I have told all of them not to do it would be good. I hope this teaches you a goddamn lesson Munson.”

“Probably not,” you muttered, gathering up the necessary supplies towards Eddie’s bed.

At Claire’s snort and Eddie’s indignant huff, he watched your head snap up. “Oh my God, I said that out loud.”

“Please, tell me how you really feel,” Eddie said, not able to help from goading you.

Your eye widened and hands came up in defense. “I swear, it was like a knee jerk reflex. Like that time you thought diving off your roof was a good idea – I’m pretty sure the only reason you and Jeff didn’t break your ankles was because-”

“- we fell on the garbage Paula had left out the night before,” Eddie finished, remembering. He grinned at the memory. The band had finally had a bigger than normal crowd and they’d gotten stupidly drunk. You’d been the designated driver for that weekend and had complained endlessly how you’d never do it again if they didn’t stop doing stupid shit. Somehow that had ended up with a discussion about the dumbest things they could all do – which is how they’d ended up on the roof.

You’d yelled at them for hours after, freaking out the entire night. To be fair, you’d been right – you usually were. But after you’d tired yourself out – and he’d spent hours apologizing – he’d managed to get you to admit it had been pretty cool.

It was stupid, but the way you’d grinned that morning, admitting that their impromptu concert on the roof of his trailer was amazing – was seared into his memory. Especially considering you’d kept him in bed the entire weekend.

Eddie resurfaced from his memory of you in his old room, bra strap falling from your shoulder and your head thrown back in laughter, as your gloved hand came to undo his sling.

“Sorry, what?”

Claire rolled her eyes so hard he shot her a look. You, on the other hand, just smiled patiently. God, he’d forgotten how easy it was with you.

“I’m going to feel a little just to make sure everything is okay, then I’ll start wrapping. Once we get through that, considering the nature of your job, I’ll have the nurse explain your physical therapy schedule for post-removal. This is your non-dominant hand, right? That’s good.”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting and wincing when the pain shot up his arm. You leaned in close, trying not to move his arm much and your fingers examined the swelling. Claire, hovering behind your shoulder, shot him a look he didn’t understand before pointing to the door.

“I’ll go…talk to the nurse from earlier about the therapy schedule,” she said, completely unconvincingly. Without preamble, she disappeared out the door.

You hadn’t moved, your eyes clinical and mouth set in concentration. “She’s subtle.”

Eddie wanted the ground to swallow him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, sitting back onto a small stool and finally smiling. “I like your manager, I’m glad you have someone to keep you grounded.”

The pain was starting to ricochet up and he felt himself start to sweat. He knew it wasn’t incredibly cool but he had a notoriously low pain threshold. He was pretty sure that’s the only reason why they’d given him some pain meds. Even Claire had mentioned how she’d torn her ACL in college and hadn’t been that big of a whiner.

“Hey,” you said, touching his good hand. “Tell me about the concert tonight. Are you guys on tour? What’s your set list?”

Eddie knew what you were doing, eyes darting towards the tools on the platter to your right. Still, he took the bone you’d thrown him. “Do you…listen to any of our music?”

You shot him a deadpan look and he smiled. “Of course, I do Eddie, you’ve always been an amazing musician.” He didn’t know why but the resolution in your voice and the confirmation that you hadn’t avoided anything to do with him like the plague after he’d left – it…made him happy.

So, he told you about the tour they were on – the stops they had next and how they were going over to the UK, Spain, and a few other countries before ending it in New York City.

“I heard,” you said, shaking your head in awe, “Madison Square Garden, Munson.”

“I know,” he said. It’d be their first time – and the sales were so close to being sold out it felt like the entire band were holding their breaths for the news. Claire kept assuring them they’d be sold out by the end of the week. “If only the people of Hawkins could see me now, huh?”

Your eyes came up to his and he was surprised by the emotion in them. “They never saw you, Eddie. They didn’t deserve to anyway. I knew you’d make it here eventually and I honestly can’t say I know anyone more deserving.”

To Eddie’s horror, he felt undeniable pressure behind his eyes. Shit. Why had that hit him so hard? You know why, his mind supplied. Your support had been present, unwavering, and constant for so long that when you’d broken up, its absence had left a hole in his chest that nothing could fix.

“Thanks,” he said, voice thick.

“I know this may not mean much but,” you grabbed his other hand and squeezed tightly. “I am so proud of you, Eddie.”

If only you knew.

“It means a lot, it always does with you,” he admitted, eyes anywhere but on you.

“Yeah?” Your eyes were on packing up your supplies. His gaze fluttered over to his arm, realizing you were done. Damn. You were good. Wait, wait, were you leaving?

Say something, his mind shouted. “Will you sit with me for a bit? Just until I get used to the feeling?” He lifted his now heavy arm.

Your brow raised and you glanced down at a small black thing on your coat. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, we can play a game.”

“A game?”

Eddie’s mind scrambled for something, anything. “Yeah, twenty questions – to help break the ice.”

You sat down in the chair closest to his bed and smiled. “Ten questions, I do have a job Eddie, and we don’t have ice to break.”

“Deal. I go first!”

Nose wrinkling endearingly, you crossed your arms. “Why do you get to go first?”

“Because it was my idea!”

“Fine,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. The lightness in your expression letting him know you were teasing.

Not wanting to ask something he already knew the answer to – Eddie decided to jump for the second time that night. “So, who was the poor sucker that came after me?” He asked.

Your eyes darted up to his, surprised, and a small, familiar, ember of mischief in them. His heart flipped, the poor bastard. “Of all the questions you could’ve asked, that’s what you’re using to break the ice?”

“So there is ice to break?” He said, grinning.

Not one to back down, you shook your head at him with a determined expression so familiar it sent a pang through his chest. Eddie stomped on the urge to reach out and kiss you senseless.

Your teasing expression morphed into something he couldn’t name. Something that looked a little like regret. “The first serious one? His name was Brad.”

“Brad?” Eddie forced a smile, not prepared for the surge of jealousy that shot through him. “He sounds like a tool.”

Smacking his leg, Eddie pretended like your touch didn’t brand him. “He wasn’t. Brad was…Brad is a good guy. I met him my first day of med school.”

“A doctor? Fancy.” Definitely a tool.

You grinned, like you could tell what he was thinking, and picked at the skin around your nails. “Yeah, he went into pediatric oncology.”

Well shit, he was saving sick kids. “He sounds like a ray of sunshine.”

Laughing, you shook your head at him, eyes fond. “He was, he wants to change the world. Helping kids and underprivileged people. It’s been his dream since he was a little kid.”

“Sounds boring,” he joked, squeezing your hand to assure you he was kidding. “Where is this amazing Brad? Was he an idiot like me and let you go?”

“No,” you said, almost ruefully. He watched your mouth twist to the side before sighing. “We were engaged. For a few years.”

Eddie’s heart dropped to his feet. You were engaged? His eyes darted to your hand and he realized your ring finger was bare.

“I’m not married,” you snorted when he, likely, turned bright red at his lack of subtlety. Not married doesn’t mean single, his brain supplied helpfully. Not that that mattered. Doesn’t it? Jesus, didn’t his mind ever shut the hell up? No.

“Is it too rude to ask what happened?”

You shrugged, fingers going to your ring finger. “I was tired of trying to keep up with all his ambition. We had different dreams and I didn’t want to hold him back.” A flash of determination darted across your face. “He said he was tired of always feeling second best. I believe his words were, I can’t compete with a ghost.”

“Second best?” Eddie frowned.

Wide, pointed, eyes shot to his and he realized. Another pang hit his chest and Eddie was sure that if he hadn’t been lying down, he would’ve dropped to the floor.

“What about you?” You asked, like you hadn’t just knocked the air out of him with your admission. You cleared your throat and wrung your hands together. You were uncomfortable, he noted, realizing he still knew pieces of the new you.

“What about me?” He parroted, brain still coming back online.

Eddie caught your eye roll and fought his smile. Shit, how could it have been so many years and after a few minutes it felt like no time had passed? What fucking magic did you possess?

“Hey,” you said, nudging your foot with his, “I told you about me.”

Embarrassment flashed through him. “As sad as it sounds, uh, there hasn’t really been anyone after you,” he said, eyes darting away from your face.

Surprising him, he heard you snort. “Yeah, okay, the lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin never had a girlfriend after his high school sweetheart.”

“Well, no, I’ve had shorter relationships and uh…well, um,” he stammered, remembering flashes of drunken stumbling into hotel rooms across the country.

“Bed warmers?” You suggested with a sparkle in your eye.

This time, he rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah,” he huffed, “but no one really serious. Not really.”

“Why not?”

Because he couldn’t give his heart over to someone when the memory of you felt like something he was continuously chasing. Because it wasn’t fair to anyone else. Because no one ever measured up to you. Because…that’s just the way he worked.

Your eyes caught his and the air became charged around you both. Eddie tried to think of an answer to your question but only one crossed his mind.

“Why didn’t you come with me?” He blurted.

“What?” You blinked, surprised. Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“The week before we’d decided to leave…and I told you – I asked you if you’d come with me. You looked at me in a way I’ll never forget, ever.”

The silence in the room felt like it was suffocating. The clock on the wall was loud and echoed in his head, bouncing around as he waited for you to say something. Anything.

“In my head it’d always kinda felt like you left me behind,” you said with a small, devastatingly sad smile. “It felt like you needed to grow and I wasn’t ready yet.”

Left you behind? “I asked you to come with me – I didn’t…I never wanted you to feel like I was leaving you behind,” he said, realizing.

“I know. It still stung though,” you admitted with a small shrug. He could tell you were trying to find the right words, taking your time to put them together before speaking.

“You didn’t ask me to stay,” he said, remembering how it felt. Standing in front of his half-destroyed trailer and your hiccupping tears echoing in the air. He’d been waiting for you to ask – because he would’ve stayed. He would’ve done anything for you.  

You blinked, eyes coming up to his again. “How could I have? In Hawkins? After everything that town had done to you? I knew you’d stay if I asked and you were always too good for that town.”

That was fair. “Why’d you stay?”

“You know why,” you said without hesitation. Your eyes went to the closed door and sighed. “The same reason why I didn’t go when you asked. Eleven had gotten her powers back – we didn’t know if Max was going to live. My sister needed me. My dad was alive – Eddie, it was a lot. We’d been through a lot. I never blamed you for leaving, it was the right choice. Clearly.”

He had figured that was why but he’d always still wanted to ask one day. “We had something good though, right?”

“Eddie,” your face softened into a version of you that he recognized. “What we had, that shit was once in a lifetime. It didn’t matter that we were kids for half of it. Six years is a long time. We…we were good together.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled at him, reaching into his chest and pulling his heart right out of it. “Yeah. Somehow, that seemed to hurt more.” It was like Eddie had poked at a wound he thought had healed and was surprised to find it bleeding.

Eddie let himself fall down the rabbit hole for a second and he really thought about the years that had passed. He’d had something special and he threw it away, for what? To run away? Again? He wanted to chase his dreams, yeah. But a big part of it was running from Hawkins.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” you teased, bringing his spiral to a pause. “Don’t…don’t overthink it. I spent the first two years after you left overthinking ever tiny piece of what we’d said. Should I have gone with you? Would we be married by now if I had? Kids? Would we have even made it? Would I have become a doctor? The what if, that’ll kill you. Or, it almost killed me.”

You’d opened up a drawer in his mind and dusted off the cobwebs off the questions he’d tortured himself with for almost half a decade. Gareth and Jeff had suffered through a long, long time of finding him drunk in a hotel room wondering what it would’ve been like if you’d come. The fact that you’d also thought about it, hurt twice as deep. It also pulled a painful truth from underneath multiple layers of delusion. He’d really never fallen out of love with you. Eddie had always been a stubborn idiot. It seemed his heart, back in your palms, had never really had any intention on giving you up.

He blinked, dumbstruck, and was only pulled out of his tornado of misery when he felt your warm hand on his hand. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaked, unbelievable even to himself.

You smiled softly, like you knew the truth. “We were the right people but wrong time. Timing is everything.” And you were right. You’d had the timing before demons and other dimensions stole it from him.

Eddie nodded like that simple fact didn’t crack his heart further.

Clearly trying to change the subject, you cleared your throat. “I told myself if I ever saw you again, I’d never be stupid enough to ask - but…”

Grasping at the second bone you threw that night, he nodded. “You can ask me anything,” Eddie said, his tone a breath too honest even to his own ears.

The smile that bloomed on your face made his stomach flip. Mouth twisting, eyes mischievous, you ducked your head. “Is the song about me?”

Wanting to keep the smile on your face, Eddie pretended like he didn’t know what you were talking about. “What song?”

The look in your eyes told him you knew what he was doing. “You’re going to make me sing it?”

“If you want an answer,” he said, shrugging innocently.

You narrowed your eyes at him and glanced around before nodding. “You never know how good you have it, until you're staring at a picture of the only girl that matters. I know what we're supposed to do. It's hard for me to let go of you, so I'm just trying to hold on.”

Eddie’s soul felt like it’d left his body and was hovering above you both. It’d been years since he last heard you sing along to his music and Jesus fuckin’ Christ had his memory not done you justice. “I still think you could’ve joined us and been lead singer.”

You laughed, smiling a little self-consciously. “What? And steal the spotlight from you?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that light always belonged to you.”

Eyes flashing, you ducked your head but Eddie still caught sight of your pleased smile. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“You really need to ask?” You had to know, especially for one of their more popular songs, everyone knew. It was still one of the questions he got most in interviews – who the song was about. Not that he ever said it, even to his friends. But to the people who’d known, they didn’t have to ask.

“Validation is nice,” you teased.

Eddie took a moment to really take you in. Hands intertwined on your lap, ID badge around your neck, and despite looking utterly exhausted, you were still the most beautiful person he’d ever had the sheer dumb luck of knowing.

“Yeah, Hopper,” he heard himself say, your eyes darting up to meet his, “none of my songs could be about anyone else.”

Well shit -- he’d never admitted anything that vulnerable in years.

“Even now?” You joked, trying to alleviate the sudden tension around you both. But Eddie hadn’t ever lied to you and he wasn’t going to start now.

“Yeah, even now.”

At that, your head whirled towards him and he saw something flicker behind your ten-foot castle walls. Something familiar.

The device on your hip beeped loudly and you jumped to your feet. “Sorry,” you scrambled for the tiny thing. “It’s my beeper, I’m being paged for a new patient. I’ll try to see how your paperwork is going and if we can speed things along. I…um, I – this was nice.”

Nice? He could work with nice! You smiled at him, hesitating with your hand on the door knob.

But, like the idiot he still was, Eddie nodded dumbly and said nothing while he watched you walk out his door.

“Nice? That was nice? What the hell?” You said out loud to yourself, taking another inhale of the cigarette between your fingers. Like the wimp you were, you’d taken your break on the last floor, crawling out to the shitty makeshift terrace the west wing had. The night shift rarely came out here, but you loved the view – downtown Indianapolis was beautiful. High-rise buildings with their scattered lights and the sharp wind from the corner usually helped you decompress. Clearly, tonight, you needed nicotine reinforcements.

If your roommate could see you now, she’d smack you. In your very well mounted defense, you hadn’t expected to see Eddie Munson of all people in your emergency room tonight. You hated that your first instinct, after your shock, had been to check your reflection in a mirror.

It’d been more years than you could count – being around Eddie should not affect you as much as it clearly still did. He was in your past, you reminded yourself, taking another drag. Max and Robin had always had an ongoing agenda to remind you that Eddie was always an option now that you’d both grown into yourselves.

At the reminder of Max, you needed to remind yourself to strangle her. Just this morning she’d said she had no idea where they were playing next – clearly, that had been a lie.

You felt off balance and you hated it. The past few years you’d spent making sure you had all your ducks in a row. You had studied hard, travelled around the country, and learned from the best of the best. Despite feeling intimidated by Brad’s confidence in his career, almost two years later you knew what he’d meant now. You were meant to be a doctor – and you were a damn good one. While you didn’t want to stay in the ER, you knew you had a reputation for being unshakeable.

And your ex-boyfriend walks in and it throws you for a loop? What the fuck. You needed this shift to be over, for him to leave, and a bath with some wine as soon as possible. Checking your watch, you groaned when you realized you had more than half of it to go.

Replaying your last interaction on a loop, you groaned again. Why had you let him convince you to stay in his room?

You knew the answer.

His dumb big, wide, brown eyes had always been your weak spot. And look at where that had gotten you – rehashing things that didn’t need remembering. Not with him. Or maybe? You took another long drag and pinched the bridge of your nose. Why was this so complicated? And why the hell did it feel like you had a swarm of pterodactyls in your stomach every time he looked at you…with those stupid eyes. Like you meant something to him.

“Aren’t doctors always telling people not to smoke?” A voice asked, startling the shit out of you.

Almost dropping your mostly finished cigarette, you whirled around and gaped when you saw Eddie standing there. “How the fuck did you get here?”

He grinned, the sight immediately warming you. “I asked a nurse for you; she said you always took your breaks out here.”

“You need an ID to get into the room that leads here,” you said, dumbly.

“Turns out, she’s a Corroded Coffins fan,” he said, grinning shamelessly. “After a photo and an autograph, she let me through.”

Scowling at the unprofessionalism, you guessed. “Emma?”

He nodded and waved a hand. “It happens all the time, don’t worry. Besides, you never came back.”

“I – I had a gunshot wound to the leg and it took a while to change,” you said, motioning to your new black scrubs.

Eddie took a few more hesitant steps towards you. “I didn’t know you smoked, last I remembered you hated that about me,” he said, nodding towards the cigarette in your hand.

“It’s a horrible habit,” you admitted immediately, deciding to be honest, “I only do it when I’m stressed.”

The city around you buzzed with life. “ER doctor feels like the wrong profession then…”

You hated the fact that you laughed. Not even able to stop it, you brought a hand up to your mouth, surprised. Not knowing what to say, you offer him one from the carton in your hand.

To your utter surprise, he shook his head. “Haven’t smoked in years,” he said and you noted that he made sure to stay upwind of the cigarette. “The love of my life once told me she hated it and well, I stopped.”

You quirked your brow, deeply ignoring how your heart skipped. “Stop moving that arm around so much, once the meds wear off it’ll hurt,” you said, changing the subject because what the hell did you say to that? Taking another drag, you exhaled the smoke.

He smiled at you like he knew what you were doing. Shit, he probably did. “I can’t help it, you know that.”

“I didn’t ask before but…doctor huh? Last I heard you wanted to be a teacher,” Eddie said, scuffing his shoe against the gravel.

You couldn’t help the way your brows raised. How had he known you’d considered being a teacher? “Keeping tabs on me?” He smiled and when he didn’t answer you shrugged. “After what happened, seeing you…”

The memory of Eddie on the floor, scratches and gouges all over his body while he laid unnaturally still in your lap haunted you. Sometimes, after bad shifts, you’d still have the same nightmare where you weren’t able to get him out in time. You could hear the sound of him choking on his own blood, your own voice screaming at him to stay awake. Steve’s frantic hands as he hauled Eddie through the gate.

“Almost bleed out?” He prompted, tone light.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and stubbed the cigarette out. “I never wanted to feel that helpless ever again.”

At your confession, he quieted. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, not like you’d expected.  It wasn’t charged like earlier…it was nice. “Yeah,” he said, “I knew you were a doctor. Dustin told me, sent me a Polaroid of your graduation.”

“That little shit.”

Eddie laughed. “I asked for it, don’t blame him.”

“Why?” You asked, shocked. Everyone had assured you that he’d reach out eventually – he had to. But he never did. In all fairness, neither had you.

His eyes came to yours, stare serious and the air shifting from light to something heavier. “You know why.”

Electricity crackled between you. Eyes drawn to his you had to curl your hand around the railing to avoid the urge you had to reach for him. “I started smoking in college. It helped take the edge of every once in a while,” you shrugged. “The scent reminded me of you. Helped me, I don’t know, calm down? It’s soothing, I guess. I had a tangible part of you that I could keep with me.”

Surprised at your own candor, you bit your cheek. You had never admitted that to anyone. Everyone assumed you’d picked it up after having snuck one off your dad or Joyce. You risked a glance up at him and your heart jumped to your throat. If the electricity was on high before, the look in his eyes made it palpable.

Like magnets, you both took a few steps towards each other. His hand reached for yours and your heart slammed against your rib cage, revving like an engine. “Hopper…I-”

The door behind him slammed open, surprising you again. Gareth stumbled in and you bit a smile back at the death glare Eddie shot him. “I think I just promised one of the nurses my first born to get here.”

You laughed, feeling Eddie’s eyes on you.

“Claire sent me to find you, she’s on a rampage. You can’t just run off dude,” Gareth said good naturedly.

Eddie sighed. “Sorry.”

“S’all good, she’s getting the paperwork for you discharge. She found a nurse on the second floor and I’m pretty sure he’s already asked her on a date.”

You snorted and Gareth grinned at you. “So, Doc, is he cleared to go? We’ve got a plane to catch in the morning. Helene said she’d cover for you for the rest of the tour if we needed to. Claire and Warren think you can sit and sing if you’re feeling up to it.”

Reality crashed into you. Of course. They were on tour. You and Eddie were in the past - a fond memory that stung a little still but was fond nonetheless.

“Uh yeah, he should be fine. Make sure he keeps the sling on for at least two weeks. No guitar playing but singing is fine. The nurse should explain in detail to Claire.”

“Great!” Gareth clapped his hands, glancing between you both. Your fingers itched to grab another cigarette as your stress climbed. “Helene’s on her way to Chicago.” Gareth added when no one spoke.

Eddie grunted and it spurred you into action. You reached out and rested your hand on Eddie’s arm. “It was nice to see you both,” you said, smiling at Gareth. Gathering up all the courage you had available, you reached up and kissed Eddie’s cheek. His breath hitched and you scrambled back towards safety. “Be careful, okay? Take care of the arm.”

Eddie’s stare felt like physical touch but you tugged Gareth into a hug and ignored him. The beeper in your scrubs screeched and you almost sighed in relief. “That’s my cue,” you said, waving the flashing screen in the air, “have a safe flight.”

Whirling around, you’d made it three steps before Eddie’s voice stopped you. “Hopper!”

“Yeah?”

He blinked at you, as if surprised you’d stopped. “When’s your shift end?”

You smiled at your first love and decided to indulge yourself for the moment. Eyes trailing down him, taking in his features and how little he’d changed. His hair was still wild and curly, his hands still waved in the air as he spoke, and he still chewed on his bottom lip when he was nervous. You still knew him well enough to know what he wasn’t saying. “You were my first patient of the night. I’m on until morning, probably a bit past that since we’re short-staffed.” The beeper screeched again and you winced. If it was an attending, they were going to be on your ass for the rest of the night. “I gotta go, I’m sorry.” Sorry that’s all you had, sorry this didn’t magically fix everything, sorry for not going with you. Sorry for…still loving you? “Bye.”

Before the door closed behind you, you heard Gareth’s unmistakable laughter and voice boom. “When does your shift end? That’s the best you got? Dude.”

A muffled groan made you smile and you shook your head. This night was going to be a wild, crazy, memory. That’s all. You had patients to see.

You were dead on your feet, squinting at the offending sun as you walked towards your car in the parking lot. “See you Monday, Hopper!” A coworker called out. You waved a hand towards them. The next break in your schedule had managed to line up with the weekend. Despite the miracle, you were already planning on spending most of it sleeping and catching up on your notes. Stifling a yawn, you dug through your bag to try and find your keys.

Where the fuck were they? You groaned, blindly feeling around for the key ring. As you rounded the corner you froze. What the hell? Eddie was sitting on the hood of your car. His hair was tucked into a beanie, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and his green cast in a sling.  

Your feet carried you towards his smiling figure. “Hey? I thought – you…a plane?” Exhaustion scrambled your brain but Eddie seemed to understand what you meant - he always had.

“I can take a later one,” he said, squatting to pick up a coffee cup off the ground. “I don’t know if your order has changed but I got you this from the shop down the street.”

“Oh my god, I love you,” you said. Exhaustion and desperation drove you to practically dive for the cup. Taking a long gulp, you curled your fingers against the warmth.

Eddie froze as you continued to gulp it down. “Never thought I’d hear those words again.”

What? You thought, realizing a beat too late. Flustered, you didn’t know what to say to his teasing.

“I’m going to say something and if I’m reading too much into this or way out of line – feel free to slap me.”

“What?”

“Just…I need to say it. I have to – I can’t keep going on through life wondering what if.”

“Don’t overthink it…The what if, that’ll kill you. Or, it almost killed me.”

You swallowed around the sudden lump in your throat and nodded.

“I want to give this a shot,” Eddie said, inhaling deeply, “I still love you, sweetheart. I think I always have. I know that it’s different and it’s been far longer than it should have been but I want to try. Seeing you again tonight, I…I don’t think there will ever be anyone else but you for me.”

Emotions overwhelmed you, eyes tearing up. “Eddie,” you breathed, hands coming up to his as if by instinct.

His eyes didn’t stray from you and he continued. “I let this go because I thought - I thought it was what was best at the time. I’m not making the same mistake twice.” Eddie leaned forward, eyes darting between yours and you knew he was giving you the chance to back away – to say no.

Did you want to say no? Wasn’t this chasing the past? What if you both ended up hurting each other all over again? It was clear you’d both never moved on from your break up.

And yet…the soft look in his eyes reminded you of leaning against his locker, his body caging you in. His hair would hide the halls, the entire world, and you’d be pinned in place by his stare. Eddie would kiss his way up from your neck and one of your friends would always manage to find you two. They’d give you shit for it but, Eddie would flip them off before pressing his lips back down to yours. Their jeering fading into the background while his hands trailed down your body.

Just because it’d been years ago didn’t make it any less important. Any less crucial. And most importantly, the years hadn’t wiped the longing.

Without overthinking it, for once in your life, you surged up and pressed your lips to his. Eddie’s right hand trailed around your hip and pulled you into him. Mindful of his sling, you cradled his face and kept him close.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, making familiar heat pool in your stomach, and you were almost embarrassed by the harsh exhale you let out. You felt his smile against your lips and not one to be left behind, you let your lips find that spot you knew like the back of your hand. His scruff tickled your skin as you worried at the skin on the underside of his jaw and you grinned when he let out a quiet moan.

Your bodies slotted into each other like two puzzle pieces and they rekindled the flame that had somehow seemed to never have gone out. After a while, you needed to calm your breathing before you both managed to get arrested for public indecency. Taking a huge step back, you brought your hand up to your lips – afraid this had been a fever dream.

“Where are you going?” Eddie whined, chasing after you.

Grinning, you held his good hand between yours and brought it up to your lips. Brushing a kiss against his knuckles, you watched his eyes darken and smiled. His hair looked wilder than normal, his lips swollen and red. He looked happy. You were sure you looked a similar.

“How do you know I’m not dating anyone? I could be,” you teased, arms trailing down to rest comfortably on his waist.

“First, if you’re going to kiss me like that – if you were dating someone, I’d be appalled,” he joked, shooting you a knowing look. “Dustin told me. I called him an hour ago to ask for his advice. He likes to remind me periodically that you won’t be single for long. He really didn’t like the last guy uh-”

You reared back. “Jared? He was nice!”

“If it makes you feel any better my last quasi-relationship was like a year ago and Dustin wouldn’t even look at her when she tried speaking to him,” Eddie said. You bit back your laughter because that was definitely something you could see Dustin doing.

“The little asshole.”

“Right?”

“We can’t tell him about this. Not yet,” you said quickly. God, especially not Dustin – he’d be unbearable. He spent almost all of your trips home screaming Eddie’s praises.

Eddie’s entire face lit up. “So there is a this to tell?”

How could you have ever thought you could’ve fooled yourself into thinking this night wouldn’t have mattered? That Eddie was someone you could move on from? “I mean, I let you kiss me, didn’t I?” You teased.

“That’s true, you would’ve decked me if you wanted me off,” he said, nose coming down to your neck, teeth nipping at the skin there.

“I do have mean right hook,” you said, breathless.

“Oh, I remember,” he laughed and you knew he was picturing you decking Tommy at a party senior year for harassing Steve and Nancy.

After beat, your insecurities started to creep into the bubble. “What are we doing? I still…I still love you. I don’t think I ever really stopped but we’re different people now. We don’t really know this version of us anymore. Not the way we used to.”

Eddie’s hand came up to cradle your face softly. “Trust me, I haven’t changed much,” he said and you snorted. “It doesn’t matter. We can love each other and take it slow. We can learn the new stuff and enjoy the things that stayed the same. I’ll do whatever you want because, honestly, I don’t know what we’re doing either. But I do know that I’m not letting you go. Not a second time. I know my schedule is hectic – my career is chaotic - and all over the place for months on end but…”

You smiled, tightening your arms around him and finally feeling like the earth had snapped back onto its axis. “But we can try?” Because wasn’t it worth it? For him? Without question.

Eddie’s eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against yours. “We can definitely try.”

As the sun warmed you both, you glanced up at Eddie’s beaming smile and you nodded. It wouldn’t be easy, you’d both stumble and have to adjust to the new things, your careers, and living in different cities but…the timing was right. Again. Didn’t people always say lightning never struck twice? And yet, timing was everything.

A/N2: There's also no way in hell a metal band would be singing something as slow as When You're Gone but yolo, I'm the captain now.

[therealvinelle]

Ok I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'm just now copying your Norwegian Bella AU into a text translator, and if you don't already have 50 people in your inbox demanding a translation then shame on ALL OF US because this is glorious! And while Google Translate does have a certain charm (it translated "piper hun ut" as "she beeps") I'm curious to see how you'd put it in English.

Troquantary is referring to this post. In which Bella doesn't speak English.

Fun fact, you're the only one who's gone into my inbox to request this. I was so sad, had the translation half-written and everything, but I was too proud to beg. So thank you, Troquantary, for popping this ask.

As for the dictionary fuckups, sounds about right. I made a few typos, too, that made Google Translate suffer even more. (Such as managing to mix up "henne" (her) and "hendene" (hands), resulting in Aro patting Bella instead of clapping his hands. Poor Google.)

Also, there are a few cultural references and language things that would be lost in the translation, in an attempt to keep them I included notes clarifying things.

Some things, like Aro and Carlisle's very old man way of speaking, are easier said than done to translate, you'll have to bear with me there.

Additional notes are that I added a few things to this version, many of them because translating is hard, but a few because while translating I thought "oh you know what would be much funnier-" and then wrote that.

Alright, without further ado:

When Renée left Charlie she did not go to Florida, she went to Oslo. And she went all in to make her daughter a true Norwegian, hiring Norwegian nannies and making sure never to speak English around the child. Since transatlantic flights are expensive, little Bella Swan rarely got to visit her father, and as such she never did learn what should have been her native language.

She quickly forgot what English she did have in favor of Norwegian, with the exception of words like “Yes”, “No”, and “I’m Bella”.

The few trips she took to visit her father were all the more awkward than in canon since she couldn’t play with the Black kids. Let not the blame fall upon Charlie: he took Norwegian classes and speaks conversational Norwegian. He can’t speak to Renée, because her Norwenglish is incomprehensible even to Norwegians, but he can communicate with Bella.

Not that he’s had a lot of chances to do so.

Bella makes it to seventeen years old, she’s in second grade at Handels* and is a major outsider among the preps there, and then Renée marries a handsome skier**. Together they shall travel the continent all winter to participate in as many skiing races as they can, and in the summer they’ll take gigs at Hurtigruta to see the coast.

*“Handels” is the nickname for an Oslo high school infamous for its pupils being rich and beautiful blonds who are going to be CEOs when they grow up.

**Skiing as a sport is huge in Norway

***Hurtigruta is a famous ferry that travels across the Norwegian West coast

Bella, who sucks at skiing and is too young to work at Hurtigruten, takes the hint.

With dread in her stomach and dictionary in hand she goes to her father in America.

Where she doesn’t speak the language.

Faen.

Charlie gives her a car, and I wish this meta was set in the present because I could have joked about electric cars and the automat only driver’s license*, but Twilight is set in 2005 so I can’t. The car part proceeds without drama.

*An increasing number of Norwegian youth take the driver’s license for automatic cars only, and we’re the country in the world with the highest percentage of electric car purchases.

School is worse than in canon, because she is now a thousand times more sensational than if she was merely the new student. She is from another country! All of Forks keels over with excitement.

To make matters even worse, our girl doesn’t understand a word of what people are saying.

She is too awkward to let them know she doesn’t know English. It’d become a thing, and they might think she’s dumb. To be fair, it’s not good that she’s been through primary, secondary, and now a year and a half of high school and still sucks at English.

So she nods, smiles, mumbles “Hi, I’m Bella” to the new faces, and blushes heavily when anybody says anything.

People assume she’s shy. That’s a bit boring, but oh well.

She has her biology class with the redhead hottie she noticed during lunch. She watched him and his family, they were fascinatingly pretty, but she doesn’t know anything more about them. Sure would have been great if she could have asked the tiny girl (was it Jess?) about them.

Biology proceeds as in canon - Edward badly wants to eat the delicious girl, but fortunately doesn’t.

She runs into him in the office when he tries to switch to another biology lesson, but she has no idea what he’s saying so she only has the suspicion that this somehow concerns her. Which is still uncomfortable, but Bella is probably the problem here. The hottie surely can’t be.

He’s missing from school for a week, Bella finds that weird.

He returns, and to her great horror he starts talking to her.

“Hello”, he says.

Bella dies inside. He’s too handsome!

"I'm Edward Cullen," he continues, and ok, she got that. The hottie is called Edward, that’s good to know. She’s not sure she caught that last name, though, Köln?

He says something else, it’s gibberish to Bella even though she’s concentrating, and at the end there he says “Bella Swan”.

She gulps.

"I'm Bella Swan," she confirms and nods. That should be correct. God, she hopes it’s correct.

He smiles a crooked, boyish smile. She’s awed. She didn’t think it was possible to be so beautiful.

He says something else.

Bella didn’t catch it.

She blushes even harder, she hasn’t been more embarrassed in her life. Here he is, the most handsome guy in all the world, and she has nothing to say to him. Literally, they don’t speak the same language.

She should tell him.

It’s one thing to chicken out of telling the town she doesn’t speak English, but there’s something different about Edward Cullen. He deserves the truth.

But...

He’s the most beautiful person she has seen in her life. He is American, too, so the odds of him knowing Norwegian are microscopical. If he finds out she doesn’t understand a word he says he’ll stop talking to her, and selfish as she is she doesn’t want that.

So with a slightly guilty conscience (but not enough to fess up) she contributes to the conversation with enough words and smiles to pull through. "Yes", "No", "Thank you", and "That's nice".

He is surprised by several of these answers, but instead of giving her odd looks and losing interest he grows more invested in the conversation.

Class ends.

The next day the near accident happens, and he saves her. She is stunned - dear god, did he just pick up a whole car? After teleporting across the parking lot..?

Soon she’s in the ER, and more than a little bit stressed about that fact since she knows the Americans have a terrible healthcare system.

She hopes Charlie has an insurance.

An insanely beautiful man walks into the ER, and Bella is shocked. He is just as handsome as Edward and Edward’s lunch friends!

He introduces himself as Carlisle Cullen, and Bella can only assume this is someone’s older brother. Possibly related to the blonde girl.

He smiles at her, says something, and she answers, "I'm Bella Swan."

He frowns.

That must have been the wrong answer, then.

His hands return to investigating her scalp, and to her great surprise he switches to perfect Norwegian, "kjenner De* noe ubehag når jeg holder her?" Do you feel any discomfort when I touch here?

*De is the Norwegian polite pronoun for “you”. Du = thou = the French tu, and De = you = the French vous. These polite pronouns went out of use in the 1980’s, save for when addressing royal persons, and would be considered antiquated in 2005.

He hurries to add, "Norsk lærte jeg i... fjor sommer. Det var et nettkurs." I learned Norwegian… last year. Online class.

"Hvilket da?" Which one? Bella asks, because Charlie needs to hear about this. The doctor has beautiful, if slightly outdated, pronunciation.

The doctor’s smile turns uncertain. She gets the feeling there’s something he doesn’t want to say. "Husker ikke," I don’t remember, sier han etter en litt vel lang pause.

That’s a shame. And weird.

"De hadde hellet med Dem i dag, som ikke ble truffet av den bilen." You were lucky today, not getting hit by that car. he then says, noticeably changing the subject.

"Det var ikke hell, det var Edward," It wasn’t luck, it was Edward, she replies sharply.

The doctor definitely looks uncomfortable.

She continues, "Han krysset skolegården på et blunk, og plukket opp hele bilen. Jeg så det," He crossed the schoolyard in a moment, and picked up the whole car. I saw it,

The doctor laughs. "Om han kunne det hadde nok gymkarakteren hans vært meget bedre. Nei, frøken Swan*, jeg beklager å si at det høres ut som at De er litt omtåket. Det er helt normalt ved hjernerystelse." If he could do that, his PE grade would be a lot better. No, Miss Swan, I’m sorry to say you seem confused. That’s normal with concussions.

*Addressing a young woman as “frøken” is even more outdated than using polite pronouns.

Why does Bella get the feeling he’s lying?

She’s discharged.

We’ll jump ahead to her trip to La Push - that trip uneventful, since Jacob knows she doesn’t speak English. They stick their hands in their pockets and stare at the sea.

The next day she’s shanghaied to Port Angeles, because apparently she said “Yes” at the wrong time when talking to Jessica (Turns out Jess’s name was Jessica!) and accidentally said yes to a day trip to Port Angeles.

Like in canon she wanders away from the others, and as in canon she is nearly gang raped. And again as in canon she is saved at the last moment by Edward.

He buys her dinner, and she can’t believe her own luck- and misfortune. A date with the most handsome guy on the planet (hence the luck) and she can’t say a word to him (hence the misfortune)!

He says things to her, lends her his jacket, and really this is it for Bella, she’s peaked, life can’t get better than this.

(That’s a lie, it would be better if she spoke English.)

He’s so amazing.

She’s gotten pretty good at navigating conversations with him, so she nods and aha’s her way through.

In his car on the way home the tone takes a more serious turn.

He asks her about something, and it’s a serious question, that much she’s gathered. She answers in the confirmative.

He is silent.

Did she say anything wrong?

(Edward, on his end, just asked if she knows what he is. She said yes, so calmly, not even a trace of fear in her.)

A few days later he takes her out on a walk in the woods.

He shows her a meadow in the woods, and when he steps into it he lights up in the sunlight.

Bella is in shock.

She knew there was something different about him, but- holy cow. This guy isn’t human.

Is she dating a god?

She stumbles into the clearing after him, and they spend a day together where he says things, and she can barely hear any of it (nevermind understand it) because she’s so distracted by how pretty he is.

The next day he takes her to a house in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t want to guess that this can be where he lives. Surely gods don’t live in houses?

He shows her inside the house, and introduces her for Dr. Cullen and a lady with a name she doesn’t catch.

Bit weird that these two are acting like a couple of parents, they’re far too young and divine for that.

Edward shows her around in an old-fashioned office, and she doesn’t know what to make of i when she sees a painting of Carlisle. Edward launches into a long story when he sees her watching it, unfortunately she doesn’t catch any dates or artist names. At one point she heard the word “suicide”, though, and that’s not good.

She doesn’t get much out of the story.

The baseball game doesn’t happen because Bella didn’t pick up on what Edward wanted and didn’t realize she was being invited to a thing. They spend the afternoon watching a movie instead.

The relationship continues, impeded slightly by communication problems, but she’s mostly able to cover those up.

Until her birthday comes around.

She gets a papercut.

Jasper lunges at her. Edward throws her into a glass table, and then everyone is leaving.

Carlisle is kind enough to switch to Norwegian when he’s stitching up her arm, perhaps remembering the last time she was his patient. "Jasper har ikke vært på dietten vår så veldig lenge." Jasper hasn’t been on our diet for very long.

"Diett?"she asks. She’s never seen Edward eat anything. She wasn’t clear on what the Cullens ate, honestly she thought they were above such things. She was thinking maybe photosynthesis. The knowledge that they apparently eat food astounds her, but diets?

"Dyreblod istedenfor menneskeblod," Animal blood in stead of human blood, Carlisle clarifies.

Whachasay?

Carlisle gives a slight smile. “Jaspers liv som vampyr fikk en brutal start." Jasper’s life as a vampire got off to a brutal start.

...

Vampire?!

Bella’s missed something here.

Oh dear lord, oh fy faen, she has missed something.

“Åja”, uh huh, is all she can say, and suddenly she’s very aware of the fact that she’s sitting there with a bleeding arm.

And Carlisle.

Who is a vampire.

Over the course of the following conversation Bella makes a host of discoveries.

Edward has been a vampire this whole time, and he’s a telepathic vampire. Whether Bella should be a vampire too or not has been a matter of hot debate, but due to religious reasons Edward doesn’t want that.

Carlisle also brings up how Edward died of the Spanish flu.

"Jeg var under den oppfatning at Edward fortalte deg bakhistorien min?" I was under the impression Edward told you my back story? Carlisle asks at one point, and Bella just has to ask very nicely if he’d be so kind as to repeat it.

Turns out the guy is nearly four hundred years old.

Jaha.

Jahahaha jaa ha.

That’s… a lot.

She wanders out of the house in shock, and hardly notices Edward’s strange behavior over the next couple of days.

One day he picks her up at school, and takes her behind the house.

That works out.

He’s a vampire, but he never hurt her. He is endlessly beautiful, perhaps easier to love now that she knows he’s not a god. He’s her Edward, and that’s suddenly easier now that she knows.

They can still be together.

But now that she knows this about him, it’s about time he knows something about her as well.

It’s time to finally be honest with him.

So when he opens his mouth, she opens her mouth as well, but she doesn’t get any further than to “Edward-” before he launches into a monologue.

She’ll have to wait until he’s done before saying her piece. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it doesn’t seem like he intends to stop talking anyway.

And what he’s saying seems to be serious, so it’s probably best to let him finish.

Edward concludes his monologue by kissing her forehead. Then he disappears.

Where did he go?

A big unsure, Bella goes back to the house. She’ll just have to wait until he gets back.

She doesn’t know what to think when Charlie returns from work and tells her the Cullens have all left.

Oh, god.

Edward must have found out she doesn’t speak English.

She made a mockery of him.

He has every right to leave.

Knowing this doesn’t make it any easier to live with.

Bella sinks into a depression.

The hallucinations begin, as in canon, though Hallusinward speaks Norwegian. Thank god for small mercies.

The friendship with Jacob (dictionary in hand) blooms, as someone has to help her see those hallucinations.

The cliff diving happens, and Alice shows up. Bella’s not sure what this is about, but she has gotten good enough at English to know that something bad happened, and Alice wants them to do something.

She’s a bit surprised to find herself on a plane to Italy, though.

Alice tells her to “Run to Edward” and ok, she got that, actually.

So she saves Edward.

After that she’s taken into the sewer, which turns out to house dozens of vampires.

Bella, Edward, and Alice are received in some kind of hall, where an unusual vampire has quite a bit to say. She understands some of what he’s saying, at least the part about “la tua cantante”. She knows a bit about Italian, see, so she knows that he’s talking about a song now.

She wishes she knew the context.

At one point he takes her hand, and appears fascinated by it. She wonders if he’s a palmreader. Not very vampirey, but what does she know.

He asks her a question.

"Yes," she says.

Saying yes has gotten her this far, after all.

But when he lights up and claps his hands together, and Edward and Alice stare at her in shock and betrayal, she knows she must have said the wrong thing.

The two are dismissed from the room before Bella can do or say anything, she’s just listening to Edward make a racket outside in the hallway.

Not good.

The unusual vampire brings her further down in his sewer palace to a basement, and she is given comfortable clothes to wear.

This is getting terrifying.

The vampire leans towards her - and she chickens out.

"Jeg snakker ikke engelsk!" she squeaks. "Non habla ingles!" I don’t speak English.

Han stanser, og ser forvirret ut. "Que- Hva behager*?" I beg your pardon? spør han etter et øyeblikk.

*A very formal, and slightly outdated (you can use it, but people will think you’re putting on airs. And they will be right) way of saying “excuse me?”

Sobbing, Bella tells him the whole story, from how she didn’t want to be the weird kid in school to how she’s now somehow in Italy without knowing why nor what she just agreed to.

When she’s done the vampire starts laughing.

"Dette forklarer jo en hel del," This explains quite a bit, ler han. "Men, kjære Bella, jeg er redd det ikke endrer noe." But, my dear Bella, I’m afraid it changes nothing.

He tells her that she has agreed to serve him and his army of undead warriors into eternity.

Well fuck.

"Du skal få slippe det, når du ikke visste hva du samtykket til - men skjebnen din forblir den samme. Loven er loven." You’re released from that promise, as you didn’t know what you agreed to - but your fate remains the same. The law is the law.

After a moment of silence, during which she looks terrified, he hurries to add, "Vi har en lov. Du må bli en av oss." We have a law. You must become one of us.

A law that Bella Swan has to become a vampire?

People are finally speaking Norwegian, and Bella is still lost. And it’s too embarrassing to keep pestering this poor, polite man with questions.

So she nods.

He gives her a glittering smile, and bites her.

When she wakes, Aro offers her an English course. A language course that, naturally, leads to her staying in Volterra. Why not learn a few more languages while we’re at it, dearest Bella?

Some time later Edward breaks into Volterra to save his Rapunzel, only to barely recognize her now that she’s a vampire who says things. Lots of things, she talks all the time now. WHAT DID ARO DO TO HER.

Too mortified to admit that she never spoke English, Bella claims she’s been brainwashed.

Aro is having too much fun to correct her, and the whole sad affair sets off a regrettable flood of rumors.

[star-anise]

I read your post about trauma and I'm trying to make sense of my parents treatment of me as well as my own diagnoses. Is anxiety itself trauma? Or a result of trauma? Its the stress response itself not calming down. I think I was and am emotionally neglected. My parents are not sympathetic. I'm adhd anxiety depression my whole life. That post about learning new social situation techniques really resonated. What are the treatments for neglect? Besides plain old cbt and mindfulness and anti anxiety meds

Trigger warning: Child abuse, child neglect, emotional neglect

Anxiety can happen because of a wide variety of reasons, from medical to situational to genetic. It could happen out of the blue to a totally healthy adult. Or it might be a symptom of trauma and a bad childhood. PTSD used to be classified as a kind of anxiety disorder, but we now understand it's a lot more complicated.

I'm very sorry your family aren't sympathetic and don't get what's up with you. I want to make it very clear that it is not your fault that they aren't sympathetic.

It's not your fault for not explaining things clearly enough. It's not your fault for not being a more lovable child. It's not your fault for being emotional or oversensitive. It's not your fault for not communicating your needs in a way they can hear. Their treatment of you is not your fault.

That's important not just because it feels good to be absolved of blame. It's not a meaningless platitude. It's a nicer coating on what can sometimes be a very bleak truth. That truth is:

There is nothing you can do to make your family be sympathetic to you.

I am so, so, so sorry. You can spend your entire life turning backflips, you can learn interpretive dance, you can become the world's leading expert in your field, you can get hit by a car and find out you have cancer, you can be as sympathetic and understanding about their reasons for neglecting you as they could possibly want, you could do everything in your power to be a good child, and none of that will ever give you the power to make your parents be sympathetic to you and what you've been through.

Sometimes parents do learn and grow and change and work to repair the damage done while their kids were children. But that's because of their own issues and experiences and reasons, not because of anything their children have done. Many parents keep being oblivious and neglectful even when their children have become everything a parent could ever hope for.

Actually, an amazing number of my adult neurodivergent friends have had the absolutely excruciating experience of hearing their parents say, in essence, "Hey adult child! The other day someone I respect way more than you told me about [your condition], and I was astonished! They told me that thing you've been telling me for years, and it blew my mind. I now realize that this is a real part of your life! Wow, it sure would have made a difference if I'd done that thing you've been begging me to do for years now, huh? Hey, have you heard about this handy behavioural technique you've been doing every goddamn day of your adult life? It sounds like it would really help!"

Like, even if your parents ever Get It about your specific disorders and conditions, they're extremely likely to salvage their self-esteem by refusing to ever seriously acknowledge how much it's hurt that they've failed you.

And what that means is: You have to plan the rest of your life as if they will never be sympathetic.

That might mean never giving them any say over your medical care or personal life choices. It might mean not living with them, not turning to them when you need a supportive community, or not letting them play a large role in the lives of any children you yourself may have. It might mean having to build your own support network that doesn't include your family at all, because you can't count on them to care when you're in distress. It can really suck to have to keep giving up the dream that one day you'll be able to count on your family to nurture you emotionally, but I promise that it sucks less than being continually disappointed with no backup plan.

Researching emotional neglect can be really difficult because a lot of the best research psychology as a field has achieved on the topic comes from really extreme forms of neglect and abuse. Exactly the kind of neglect and abuse that society waves in the face of the "merely" emotionally neglected: "So what if you didn't get hugged enough! You had enough to eat, a roof over your head, and they never hit you! They weren't even mean or malicious! Stop whining!"

And... look, if you've just broken your legs and you're in a wheelchair, who would you rather learn about using a wheelchair from: someone who can easily walk everywhere all the time, or a double amputee who's been using a wheelchair for years? The first person can probably get around more easily, but the second one can tell you a lot more about the specific challenges and skills that will be central to this phase of your life.

That's the frame I propose for research: Your life might not have been as bad as the case studies you read (though it's probably worse than your family is willing to admit, because invalidation is itself a form of emotional neglect, and this is so common there's even a poem about it) but the issues they encounter and the skills they require are probably useful to you, too.

With that in mind, check out books about early childhood neglect and trauma like The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Bruce Perry, which talks about the parts of the brain and developmental stages that can be impaired by toxic stress in childhood, and the various forms of treatment that can address each one.

As far as CBT, remember to focus on behaviour, not just cognition. Reading about using touch to self-soothe is good, but less powerful than using that knowledge to find a blanket you love to touch, and wrapping yourself up in it whenever you're upset. Neglect means that you failed to get repeated, predictable experiences of being comforted. Healing therefore means getting that practice in as an adult: Creating thousands of daily, repetitive experiences of being cared about. Caring about yourself, and finding people who will care about you.

Maybe also give Dialectical Behaviour Therapy workbooks a try? They're designed for Borderline Personality Disorder, which can be seen as a specific subset of complex trauma. Like, if the effects of childhood abuse and neglect were a rainbow, BPD might be red-orange. But what makes DBT useful is that it has examined which skills and coping mechanisms vital to emotional health people with BPD most commonly weren't taught/never learned/need more practice on. The curriculum might not overlap completely with your own needs if you fall into the yellow, green, blue, or violet aspects of C-PTSD, but it's a good starting place when you're inventorying skills and habits you want to strengthen.

Good luck? I hope this helps!