#so I’m just going to narrow my focus here to a more general discussion about how awesome katara is

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Click My Heels But I Am Stuck Here - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Work Summary:

Rolan is battered, beaten and exhausted. After everything he’s been through to get to Baldur’s Gate, he still has no reprieve from violence and prejudice.

But wouldn’t it just be so sweet to fuck his master’s pretty little wife?

AU where Tav is Lorroakan’s wife.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2170

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

warnings for infidelity, domestic violence, abuse, general injury stuff, slut shaming (consensual and otherwise)

---

Rolan and Tav probably saw more of each other than was sensible. It was hard to be careful when he felt as drawn to her as he was. It was hard to care about consequences when she had her pretty mouth wrapped around his cock.

Still, they did their best. During the day, they were polite and civil, but never friendly unless Lorroakan was out. For as many nights as she dared, Tav would wait until Lorroakan was fast asleep and then sneak out to see Rolan.

They were fortunate that Lorroakan’s focus was elsewhere. He was busy searching for something called ‘the Nightsong’.  There was hardly room in his narrow mind for much else. In fact, according to Tav, he hardly ever even fucked her anymore, so consumed was he in this search.

That made Rolan feel a little better. The thought of Lorroakan with his hands on Tav still made his skin crawl.

But he didn’t have to worry about that tonight. Tonight, Lorroakan had gone to discuss the Nightsong with some mercenaries, and he likely wouldn’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. That meant that Tav and Rolan could take their time.

They hadn’t fucked in Tav and Lorroakan’s room since the night when Tav had spiked Lorroakan and his guests. It was too risky.

Rolan wished he had more to offer her than a mattress on the floor. She deserved a big bed and a bottle of fancy wine.

But then, he reasoned, Lorroakan gave her a bed and wine, and she didn’t want him. She wanted Rolan, in spite of his relative poverty. The thought made him feel a little smug.

“God, that feels so good,” moaned Tav, bouncing up and down on his cock. She’d gotten better at taking all of him, although she was still very tight. Her hands were on his chest, blunt nails digging into his skin in a way that made him feel hot all over.

Her breasts bounced with every thrust. He slid his hand between them, touching that little thatch of curls that covered her mound. The sight of it always drove him wild. A thumb pressed to her clit had her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Rolan!” she squeaked, her breath coming in laboured pants in time with her bounces.

“You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you, Tav? Riding my cock like a good little slut?”

“I’m a good little slut,” she said. He pressed down on her clit harder, rubbing circles in the way that he knew she liked. She was close. He could tell.

“Go on then, sweetheart. Be a good girl. Cum for me.”

Her walls flexed around him, tightening. Her hips stuttered as the strength went out of her, so he took over, grabbing both of her hips to keep her speared on his cock.

Her body was taut, riding out the waves of her orgasm as he fucked up into her. It wasn’t long before he came too.

Later, in the afterglow, he was lying back on his pillow with his legs entangled with hers. It was a luxury that they got to spend this time together. Usually she had to sneak back to her room far too soon.

“I wonder what the Lorroakan would do if he came back and I was just gone…” she said, tracing a lazy pattern on his chest with a fingertip.

Rolan’s words stuck to his tongue. He knew precisely what Lorroakan would do, at first at least. He would beat Rolan senseless.

But he didn’t say that. He couldn’t let guilt and fear for him be the reason she stayed trapped. And if he had to take a beating for her to be safe, he’d do it every time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I have nowhere to go. My family would force me to go back to him. And Lorroakan has deep pockets. I couldn’t trust that anyone wouldn’t turn me in.”

“Cal and Lia are staying in Rivington,” said Rolan quietly. “They would help hide you, if you needed them. And they would never try to turn you over for gold.”

Tav tilted her head to one side, looking up at him. “I’d be running forever,” she said. “I’d never be safe. Besides. I have you. I have Myshka. I can’t leave either of you behind.”

Rolan’s breath hitched. “Myshka would probably fit in a pack. And I can take care of myself.”

“Rolan, I can’t leave you because I’d miss you. I care about you.” He looked at her, incredulous. “I’m staying.” Her tone was resolute. He knew that he couldn’t have persuaded her even if he wanted to.

“So am I,” he said.

She leant up and brushed her lips against his. “As much as I wouldn’t wish this fate on my worst enemy, if I had to be trapped in a cage, I’m glad it’s with you.”

*

Rolan tasted blood before he knew why. The pain in his head came afterwards. He grabbed onto a bookshelf and held himself upright, trying to stay steady.

“Idiot boy,” Lorroakan hissed behind him. “You’ve ordered these books all wrong.”

“I’m sorry, master Lorroakan,” he said, the words like acid in his mouth. He was sure that he had ordered them to Lorroakan’s exact specifications, but his master would often change his mind without telling him.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Something hard hit the back of Rolan’s head. He swayed on his feet, but held onto the shelf as best he could. If he fell, then Lorroakan would start kicking his ribs again. He was trying to avoid that as much as possible. He might not have been fighting back, but he certainly wasn’t going to make this any easier for Lorroakan.

“Well. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, master.” It was the only thing he could say that wouldn’t be construed as talking back, but Lorroakan was able to find slights in the most innocuous of phrases.

The sharp sting of electricity – a witch bolt, Rolan assumed – coursed through his body. He fell to his knees. He could’ve fought back. He should’ve fought back. It was clear from his months of Lorroakan’s tutelage that his master was no great wizard. In a fair fight, Rolan was sure that he could win.

Still, he didn’t dare do anything that might jeopardise his position here. Especially not if it meant leaving Tav.

So he gritted his teeth and took the beating the way he always did, thanking the Gods for Tav’s steady supply of potions that kept him healthy.

“Lorroakan, darling!” Tav’s melodic voice rang out throughout the library. Rolan tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. She was here to save him.

The reprieve that he’d expected didn’t come. Lorroakan’s boot hit him squarely in the ribs, and he crumpled against the bookcase.

“Lorroakan!” Tav’s voice was still sickly sweet, but she sounded worried now. Rolan heard the clicking of her heels against the polished wooden floor. “Lorroakan, I was hoping you might help me with something.”

It was a ploy that usually worked. She would lure him back to their bedroom and fuck him, making him forget about all the reasons he had for hurting Rolan. It made Rolan sick to think about, but he was grateful for her help.

This time, though, Lorroakan ignored her. He smacked Rolan across the face hard with a heavy tome. Rolan’s vision whited out.

“Darling,” Tav cooed. She had reached them now. She stroked Lorroakan’s arm, trying to coax his attention away from his apprentice. “I think you’ll like what I have to show you. Why don’t you come with me?”

His face didn’t soften the way it usually did. In fact, it hardened. He turned his angry stare on Tav.

“You always were a whore,” he spat, and then smacked her hard across the face with the back of his hand.

Tav let out a surprised gasp, overbalancing. She landed hard on her bum, but she didn’t have a moment to process what was going on before her husband grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back to her feet.

His other hand grabbed her neck, not squeezing but holding her in place while he yanked on her hair, making her cry out in pain.

“I hate your hair like this,” he snarled. “It makes you look like a slut.”

Her hair was loose and unbraided, which made it even easier for him to yank her around. He smacked her in the face again, and then let her go. She fell to her knees immediately, her breath coming in gasping sobs.

Behind him, Rolan managed to drag himself upright. He didn’t know what he was going to do – the pain was too much for him to think of a coherent plan – but he knew that Lorroakan was hurting Tav and he had to stop him.

He stumbled between them, shielding Tav with his own body just as Lorroakan raised a hand to hit her again.

Lorroakan slapped Rolan’s face hard instead. Rolan barely flinched. He could take it if it meant sparing Tav.

“You always were a stupid bastard,” snarled his master. “Don’t you dare try to stop me from disciplining my wife! Do you think you love her? Is that it? Has she convinced you that she loves you too? Stupid, stupid hellspawn bastard. She’s nothing but a whore.”

Something collided with the side of Rolan’s head hard. It was one of the various trinkets that Lorroakan kept lying around. Whatever it was, it was heavy enough to knock Rolan out cold. He slumped to the side, his whole body crumpling. Tav screamed.

Lorroakan then turned his attention back to his wife.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he hissed. “Do you take me for an idiot?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” He slapped her again. Her body feel back against the bookcase with a sickening thud. She clutched at her head, trying to protect herself from his blows. “I found these in Rolan’s room.”

He threw something at her. It bounced off and landed on the floor. She realised with stab of anxiety in her stomach that it was her underwear. She thought they’d been careful. Evidently not careful enough.

“So either he’s a nasty little rat who stole your underwear, or you’ve been fucking him. So which is it, Tavya?”

The jig was up. Tav let her hands fall away from her face and looked her husband straight in the eye.

“You’re not half the man he is,” she spat.

Lorroakan’s face was red-hot with rage. He pounced on her, pinning her to the ground. He was a lot bigger and heavier than her, so there was no way she was going to overpower him. His hands wrapped around her throat, and for a moment, she was certain that she was about to die.

“DETONO!”

Suddenly, the pressure was released. Rolan had gathered just enough strength to cast Thunderwave and push Lorroakan off her. She gasped, clutching her throat as her husband was thrown halfway across the room, colliding with another bookcase.

“Tav,” said Rolan urgently, “Tav, Tav, you have to get up, come on.”

Pushing herself up on the bookcase, she got to her feet shakily. Her neck was sore and her head was pounding, but she was pleased to see that she could stand without falling.

Rolan wasn’t so fortunate. He had been badly beaten, the bruises already forming on his face. He tried to stand, but he swayed dangerously and fell to his knees again. Tav tried to catch him, but she couldn’t support his body weight, especially in this state.

“You should run,” he said. “I can take whatever he throws at me. I’ll keep him busy. You take Myshka and you run far away from here.”

“No,” she said, dropping to her knees as well. She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m not leaving you. I love you.”

“Tav…” He felt as though she’d just punched a hole in his chest. Of course he loved her too, perhaps he always had, but if her love for him doomed her, then what good was any of this? “Please…”

“I won’t leave you,” she repeated, steadying him with her body. “Whatever happens, we’re together. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured. His voice sounded strained and hollow.

Across the room, Lorroakan was on his feet again. His hands were raised, ready to summon some vile magic to destroy them both. Rolan held onto Tav, trying to shield her with his body again. He loved her, and she loved him. Why did it have to end this way?

“Master Lorroakan! Master Lorroakan!” A new voice entered the fray. One of the shop assistants from downstairs hurried through the portal, oblivious to the scene he was walking into. “Someone is here to see you. They say they’ve got the Nightsong with them.”

Next Chapter

[soul-controller]

To Protect and Swap (Teaser)

After learning that his boss is retiring, hunky middle-aged officer James Peterson is willing to do whatever is necessary to be promoted to police chief. Unfortunately for him, a private meeting with the retiring chief doesn’t turn out as expected...

To his amusement, James hadn’t even made it to his desk on Monday morning before his assumptions about the promotion were proven to be true. Upon being stopped by his superior, the hunky officer was informed that Chief Price was expecting him up at his office for an important meeting to “discuss their futures”. Upon making his way across the busy office floor and greeting a few of his work friends, the man finally made his way to the chief’s office and knocked on the door. After hearing the gruff older voice telling him to come in, James obeyed the order and entered the room. 

Upon doing so and taking a seat on one side of a desk, James’ eyes found themselves observing his 78 year old police chief as he sat on the other side. Although the man clearly had respect for Chief Price, James was always relatively uncomfortable around his boss based on just how obese he was. With James being a solid 130 pounds with a relatively muscular physique, the fact that his boss was at least triple that was a lot for his fitness-centric mind to reconcile with. It was also clear that chief’s deskwork certainly didn’t help matters as he noticed a take-out container sitting on the edge of his desk and a fresh stain in the middle of his stretched out dress shirt.

Directing his head away from the man’s obese physique, James instead looked up to stare into the older man’s face. Although the chief’s visage looked completely normal, a closer look revealed that it was a bizarre mix of deep wrinkles and soft flab that caused his cheeks to be pudgy and a definition-less mass to be between his head and shoulders. Before he could focus more on his boss’ face though, James watched the man’s mouth begin to move and thus discontinued any thinking as he opted to instead listen. 

“So, let’s just cut to the chase alright. I’m retiring soon and I need to find a replacement before I leave. You’re not stupid, I’m sure that you know that everyone around here adores you and wants you to be my successor,” Chief Price began, his eyes narrowing underneath his gray and bushy eyebrows for a moment as he intensely studied James’ face. “Although I know that you and my staff all think that I’m this rude hardass, I’m not going to just simply ignore all of the high praise I hear about you. In fact, based on how well you’re received by both the department and the general public due to those little interviews you do, I actually share the same opinion about you.” 

Upon hearing this, James momentarily lost his breath as he awaited the final shoe to drop. Based on how Chief Price sat there for a moment with a devilish grin on his face, it was clear that he was purposely delaying the news. Luckily though, it didn’t take too much longer until he finally spoke and dropped his bombshell. “As such, I’d like to offer you the position of chief effective immediately. Are you willing to take on the sacrifices necessary for this position?”

Instantly, James’ heart began to race as the reality of the offer finally settled. Given how frantic his breathing was, it wasn’t surprising that his first few words came out as a stutter. “I- I’m h-honored chief. Of course I’d love to accept, this is the job of my dreams! I’m willing to do whatever is necessary for the betterment of our department.” 

As James finished speaking, Chief Price’s usual stoic expression shifted into a slight grin as he extended out a hand across the desk. “Now that’s what I love to hear, officer. Put it ‘ere and we’ll begin the transition process immediately!” 

With the role secured beyond a simple handshake, a wide smile emerged onto James’ face as he leaned forward in his seat and extended his arm out across the table. As soon as their hands met and were wrapped into a tight grip though, the officer’s smile began to suddenly falter as an intense tingle began to permeate through his palms. 

Looking up in confusion only caused further alarm as Chief Price’s expression had shifted from a friendly smile to a mischievous grin. Thrown off by this, James tried to pry his hand out of the handshake, but quickly found that the chief’s hand was essentially a death grip. Just as he began to flail about and muster up the courage to scream for help, the officer’s attempt was foiled as an intense shock suddenly permeated through his body. In an instant the pain caused his entire body to seize up, the officer suddenly grunting in response and closing his eyes as he wished for immediate relief...

To read more about what happens to James during his meeting with his boss, click here to sign up for my Patreon!

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

i have so many things to post about, and many photos to share--including cat stories! and my new rapid-bruising superpower--but i’ve been trying to spend almost no time doing ‘fun’ things while i’m struggling so hard to focus on ‘work’ things. 

about a week ago, i finally gave up on that strategy, since it hasn’t been working, and i switched to aiming for acceptance about my limitations (rather than hoping i can overcome them with caffeine, or not sleeping, or self-shaming). @actuallylukedanes was a huge part of that, just by being my best friend and loving me as much as they do. it’s harder to believe you’re a terrible person when the person who knows you best disagrees. anyway, i’ve been feeling better this last week after letting go of that self-inflicted stress.

so tonight i’m going to a local ‘yarning’ group at the library for the first time, where they plan to make a knitted/crocheted vegetable garden to display there. little yarn vegetables! it sounds so fun. i’m nervous because New People, but it helps that i went to a group like once when i lived in utah, and i suspect the people i’ll find here are likely to be similar to the ones i met then--mostly older women who are genuinely friendly.

i enjoy my online social life and i don’t actually want to stay in our current city, so i don’t feel a driving need to make local friends. but my general leaving-the-house skills AND in-person stranger skills atrophied during the pandemic, and i’ve always been someone who actually enjoys those brief stranger interactions that come from shopping or appointments or public transit, so it is important to me to get those skills back (and go back to getting fresh air). 

thus tonight’s meeting, and my movie pass, which will be taking me to see m3gan on wednesday. last month i read two op-eds that felt as though they were trying to send me a message: one was about how movie trailers don’t represent things accurately, so people should just see movies for their own reasons and not bother with trailers. when i read that, i sort of agreed, because i once saw a movie with a comedic trailer that turned out to be a thriller. and THEN right after reading the op-ed, i saw a man called otto and agreed even more.because  while the trailer did show vaguely what the movie is about, it also left out a central storyline that i wish i had been prepared for going in. (maybe i’m just really dense and it was implied in the trailer? but i didn’t catch it.)

and the other op-ed was encouraging people to watch more movies outside their comfort zones. i no longer remember what the argument for that was, but it did remind me that my viewing habits have narrowed a lot over the years. i used to watch just about anything when i was younger, in terms of giving movies and tv a chance--i followed actors i liked more than caring about genre. and starting to watch more theater movies has reminded me of that as well, because i see more trailers and that can mean i become aware of movies that otherwise i would probably not even hear about. 

there was a trailer for a new creed film, for example, and i’ve never seen any movies in that series, so if i hadn’t seen the trailer i doubt i would have known or cared. but it stars michael b. jordan, who i adore thanks to his work in the black panther movies (i will always melt for truly good antagonists) and jonathan majors! (who had such heartbreaking range and power in lovecraft country i will follow him anywhere) and tessa thompson, which just makes it, like, a cast too good to be true. and my immediate thought as the trailer played was, ‘well, but it’s a boxing movie.’ and then i remembered, i watched a boxing movie! i saw the one with meg ryan, because at one point i tried to watch every meg ryan movie. so why wouldn’t i do the same for another boxing movie with a cast i love? i didn’t used to reject movies categorically the way i do now.

and then on top of all that, my favorite movie podcast (you are good) discusses all kinds of movies. but both the hosts are huge fans of horror movies, classic and current, and that means they discuss them a ton even when they’re not covering them officially on the episodes. i have never been a huge horror fan, so i’ve had fun listening to their episodes about old ones that i haven’t actually seen and don’t want to. (friday the 13th, halloween, texas chainsaw massacre.) and the frequent exposure to horror movies in a nice vicarious way...has made me kind of want to become the sort of person who does watch horror movies. at least sometimes, to see what i think. 

i saw the whitney houston biopic with kayla at the theater, and one of the trailers they played with it was for m3gan, and kayla was so horrified--she just started shouting ‘no’ at the screen at increasing volume, lol. but i think it looks kind of awful in a fun way, (the trailer gave me such pretty little liars vibes somehow) and once i realized that the lead actress was also from get out, i decided to make it my first ‘who knows if i’ll hate this’ movie day. (i want to see missing next, i feel similarly about that one.)

anyway, i’m actually letting myself have fun plans this week, and i’ll just have to balance work and appts and fun going forward. i bought a really pretty planner that will make figuring all that out more fun...and on top of the rest of it, i now have a therapist whose first focus is on how important sleep is to her with every client, so now i’m struggling to live on a sleep schedule--which isn’t something i even had as a kid! so it’s a work in progress. but aren’t we all? hopefully soon i’ll start catching up more here. i miss you guys. <3

[thatblondeperson]

It is hard to explain for those not experiencing it.

As a child I spent a lot of time planning my dream wedding, reading romantic stories, acting out long term romantic plots with my Bratz dolls akin to a soap opera, over romanticizing crushes and writing songs and poetry to Joe Jonas. I have always considered myself a hopeless romantic. I still am. Even after being avoided as a piece of the dating pool in my teenage years save for one invitation to a dance, I still put a heavy focus on romance in my life. Just not tangibly for myself. I look back at hopeful diary entries and pages and pages full of lyrics about experiences I didn’t actually have, almost writing fanfictions about myself that were left unfinished. Looking back, I can see the signs that pointed me to where I am now, but the pain of all those dreams being rendered naïve and fruitless isn’t resolved by simply saying, “I am asexual and aromantic. I m not alone.”

I am alone.

It’s a hard concept to discuss when you’re always surrounded by others who don’t experience life the way that you do. Many are very understanding, but then of course you get the “well maybe you’ll find someone like you!” optimism that’s so easily thrown out for others when you’re used to having a larger dating pool to choose from.

Asexuals make up what, 2-4% of the population according to currently available data? Lets be generous and say 4%. You have to subtract women from that for myself, since I don’t feel any aesthetic attraction to potentially dating women. That lowers the percentage to just men and nonbinary folk. Remove from that everyone who isn’t my age, and then again everyone who doesn’t live in my vicinity. Then of course narrowing it down to those with similar interests as me since that’s desperately important to me and the pool is suddenly much smaller. This is all of course banking on the fact that going on dates does not send me into such a severe panic attack and deep pit of self loathing that is nearly unrecoverable from and I bolt as soon as I start to crumble inwards.

Which is basically why allosexuals are mostly off the market for myself as the societal pressure that hangs over my head and the pace difference between people with normal desires versus myself is literally too much for me to handle. Plus the joy of being told you’re “not worth the wait” by more than one gentleman caller.

So “maybe you’ll find someone like you!” doesn’t really work out when you break it down from a more logical standpoint that gets more cynical with each passing year.

And the acceptance does come, and you joke about being asexual and a virgin and being a perpetually single pringle. It’s fun, and you mesh well with others and you don’t feel totally out of place with the people around you. Life is fine. You’re here and you’re living it and it’s fine.

But your friends are going on dates, making connections, suddenly posting fun romantic pictures with significant others and then they’re married and there’s a baby on the way and suddenly you feel all alone again.

I’m not gonna read the sob story of how I’ve actually been left behind by friends once they got partners, it’s self explanatory. Couples group together, or people get so absorbed in their relationship that they have little time for friends so where does that leave someone like myself? A single person who doesn’t bring much to the table other than an occasional laugh and a random factoid about something you didn't know. It’s not much when you want to talk to others about the joy of being in love and all that fun stuff.

And I get jealous and selfish. Is it wrong for me to hope that someone else stays single with me? Absolutely. And I don’t even really want that because I want my friends to be happy, I want them to live their lives the way they desire and I want them to find someone they deserve who gives them everything they want and more. But I don’t want to be left behind, the solitary single-celled organism in an otherwise evolved ecosystem. I don’t want to be alone in this, but I know I mostly am and it sucks, it hurts, and people who aren’t like me have no idea what that crushing weight of inadequacy and ostracization feels like. Society was not made for me, and I can’t shape myself to fit society without potentially seriously traumatizing myself. 

And what’s worse is I know that an entire childhood of buildup for some great romance does make for some situational issues like when drunk!Sofie gets really affectionate, probably due to some psychological issue with being touch starved despite not wanting to be touched as soon as I’m sober. This gives people the wrong idea because drunk!Sofie and sober!Sofie are vastly different people and then I'm leading people on unintentionally. And is there some link with all of this to the trauma I experienced at 8 years old? I don’t fucking know and that’s something I can never get full closure on. Would this all be fixed if I just fucked someone and got it over with? I don’t know and I’m pretty sure I’d cry during that experience and fall into a deep depression because I’d be forcing myself so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t think I’d ever find my way back.

And I look at my friends being happy or trying to be and all I feel is this selfish sinking feeling of “what about me?” while the space around me gets darker and emptier and I worry that soon it will just be me playing with my Bratz dolls again and acting out the things I can never have.

Why me? Why can’t I have any of that? What did I do to end up like this? Why do people like me even exist? Surely I’m an evolutionary mistake in the grand scheme of how ecosystems work, so perhaps me dying alone is the universes way of correcting a faux pas. “Throw that one back into the void, it wasn’t supposed to exist.” It doesn’t feel fair to have all the theoretical desires of human existence but just never want to put them into practice. I GET romance. I GET intimacy. I GET all of the things that make everyone else feel happy and loved and secure and sure of life and what it’s supposed to all mean. So why don’t I get to have it? Understanding isn’t enough when you flinch and twitch at the thought of people getting too close, because eventually they will want more than you can give, and you understand and respect that but you cannot be the person they need. People have needs, and I can’t oblige those happily.

I shouldn’t be so distressed when anyone shares any detail of their life that has to do with anything relating to romantic relationships at all, but I can’t help it. I wish I could. I can’t help wishing it was all simple again and we were all back at the same level. Young and awkward and confused with little to no experience to speak of. It feels like I’m trapped in the past, a child walking around in an adult’s body. They’re all happy, and I’m jealous because I want that, and I’m scared that they’ll leave me behind because who wants to drag their childish friend along while you could be out with other adults having a normal fucking life?

And I’m angry because it’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. No one else has to deal with this. Which I know isn’t true but statistically from my tangible zone here, it’s just me and I’m stuck feeling like the world is going by and I’m standing still waiting for a miracle to “fix” me. I can read a million posts that tell me I’m not broken, but it doesn’t matter because I still feel it and I don’t want to. It sucks, I want to feel normal. I want to be normal. I want the normal life that everyone else on the fucking planet is promised.

I don’t want to be selfish, I don’t want to be jealous, I don’t want to feel like I’m losing everyone around me just because I’m the outlier in the existence we’re all inhabiting. It’s not fair to them and it’s not healthy for me to constantly dwell on things that aren’t even happening. But fear is tricky, and it does things to you that over time, just messes up your outlook on everything, even other people's happiness. 

And I’m sorry. I’m deeply sorry for anyone who may have had to face my cynical self projection of my own perpetual loneliness, because explaining all of this is too hard for me and what it really boils down to is me trying to tell people that I don’t want to lose them, and I don’t want to be left behind. 

Please don’t leave me behind.

[reidyoulikeabook]

A is for Ankle Socks

Summary: The first installment in my A-Z of Spencer Reid series. Spencer Reid is very particular about his socks.

Ship: fem ! BAU reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussions of case-typical violence, blood, brief description of a fight, minor injury to reader that requires some stitches.

A/N: hello! this is my first ever series and i’m very nervous about it! it’s going to be a chronological a-z series with Spencer, detailing the progression of your relationship!

Spencer Reid permanently wears odd socks. The only time you can recall him wearing matching ones, in the year you’ve known him, was on days he had to go to court. Then, it was required that he wear the technically mandated uniform of proper leather shoes, and monochrome socks. On those days, Hotch would turn up with a pair of black socks tucked into his briefcase, just in case. Spencer had needed them, twice.

However, today is not a court day. Today is day 8 of a case in back of beyond Oregon that, quite frustratingly, seems to be going absolutely nowhere.

It says quite a lot, really, that in a day spent combing over convicts with domestic violence charges, the sight you look up to see is more viscerally disturbing. Spencer’s perched on the end of a desk, as he so often seems to be, his ankles crossed over each other. Signature black converse on his feet. And he appears...not to be wearing socks?

He notices you looking at him, and flicks his eyes downward self-consciously, “Is something wrong?”

“Are you wearing socks?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Uh. No. I meant to go to the laundrette last night but then Hotch called us into that meeting. I wasn’t expecting to be out here this long.”

“Is it comfortable?” You ask, “Wearing those without socks?”

He kicks his feet around just slightly, “Not really. I guess I’d forgotten about it until you mentioned.”

“Sorry,” You say, with an apologetic smile.

“Not your fault,” He says, looking back at the paperwork in his lap, “Hey would you mind coming to take a look at this actually? I think I might have something.”

***

By day 2, you’d learnt that the only sandwich shop in town had a reputation for bad food hygiene that none of you felt like risking. Normally, everyone would roll their eyes at Spencer for his investigation into such things. However, in this case, everyone else seemed to be as thankful as you always were.

It’s your turn to do the lunch run today, so you head to the grocery store that isn’t too far out of town. Putting your car in park, you mentally run through the list that the team had given you: cheap pasta for everyone but Rossi, who was willing to risk running foul of their microwave meal selection, as many coffee supplies as you could manage, some sour gummy worms for Spencer, mineral water for Hotch, and tights for you. It was frankly quite impractical to wear the things. You ran through so many brambles, fell down so many times, that you almost felt you should get pantyhose hazard pay. In fall in Oregon though? You’d splash out the $6 for the sake of preventing frostbite. If only because Hotch would be furious.

You smile at the thought. Wandering through the aisles, you collect everything you need. Spencer only asked for a pack of sour gummy worms, but, with a smile on your face, you decide to get him the strawberry laces he likes too.

It’s only when you scan the cart, last minute, that you realise what you’ve forgotten.

Tights. Shit.

Wheeling the cart around, you weave through the aisles looking for them. The underwear aisle is aisle 20, and it looks like it’s been ransacked. Flicking through the disorganised display, you see them.

A five pack of socks, adorned with farm animals and backgrounds of a completely clashing colour. It’s almost too bright for you, but you know a certain sockless Spencer who will be sure to appreciate them. Out of curiousity, you navigate your way over to the men’s section and have a look through. Mostly, it’s all black and navy. Right at the back though, you spy a similarly garish looking pack, this time with vegetables on.

You put them in the basket, eyes flickering over a pair of matching aubergine patterned boxers, as you make your way over to the tights. You select your usual kind, turning your attention back to the boxers.

Is it weird to get him boxers?

He’d know it was a joke, right?

Is it weird to get him socks?

Well he didn’t have any

Yeah but you don’t need to get him two packs

Yes I do we might be here a while

10 more days?

He could fall. He could spill coffee on his shoes. He could get shot.

How would socks help with him getting shot?

Your internal monologue gives you a moments reprieve, and then.

Kinda weird you got him socks

Nobody else would have got him socks

Yeah well I’m just thoughtful.

The last thought crosses your mind without permission, and you almost bristle at the brazenness of your lie to yourself. However, you decide, examining the real reasons you’re so eager to provide comfort to your favourite co-worker would require mental stamina you didn’t have right now. Mental stamina that would be better put to use on the case at hand. Mental stamina that definitely wasn’t being used to employ the BAU’s favourite defense mechanism: denial.

***

“I got you a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Spencer spins around in his chair to face you.

“Yep,” You say, plopping the sweets down onto the desk in front of him and grinning.

“Strawberry laces!” He says, smile lighting up his face, “Thanks ____!”

“That’s not the surprise.”

He quirks his brow, confusion tugging at his features, “Then what’s the surprise?”

You untuck your arms from behind your back, handing him the pairs of socks.

He looks down at them. He’s silent for a moment, and your heart thuds.

Fuck.

Told you it was weird.

It’s definitely weird.

He definitely thinks you’re-

You don’t have time to finish that thought, however, because Spencer scoots his chair back. Standing up, he pulls you into a hug. He gently squeezes you, and when he speaks his voice is low, cracking a little.

“Thank you,” He says quietly, “That was really thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

You lean into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped, “No problem. I know you have some issues with sensory things sometimes and I just thought, you know,” you trail off, “Anyway, I didn’t know which ones you’d prefer and I know you like to mix and match anyway so I just got both.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he squeezes you again, tighter this time, before releasing you. Strangely, he won’t meet your eye as he does.

“I’m gonna go put them on, okay?”

“Okay,” You say, watching a little quizically as he hurriedly heads out of the room.

Derek happens to be heading back to the room, bumping into Spencer on his way out.

“You alright kid?” He asks.

“I'm fine," Spencer says, waving him off. He tries to avoid meeting Derek’s eyes, knowing as well as he does that if the profiler catches the look on his face he’ll be found out.

Derek allows him to shrug past him with a confused glance over his shoulder. He walks into the room, scooping the nearest file off the desk and asking in your general direction, “You know what’s up with him?”

“Nope,” You say, popping the p.

You don’t. And it’d bother you, except you genuinely don’t have time right now to dwell on it. Although, try as you might to focus on narrowing down this list of factories in the area, it niggles at you.

***

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re heading out to the unsubs location. You get called out by Hotch in the minute before he returns, and then it’s all guns blaring. Emily and Dave managed to work some magic with Penelope, and the place he’s holding the hostage has been narrowed down to a factory quite far out of town.

You’re perched in the back, discussing entry tactics with Hotch when your eyes travel down to Spencer’s shoes.

One chicken, and one broccoli sock sit on his left and right feet respectively. It’s hard to see them though, with how far they are down his feet.

Hotch answers his phone then, immediately barking down commands at the local PD who are apparently failing to summon adequate manpower, in Hotch’s opinion at least.

You take the moment to cautiously lean over to Spencer, whispering, “Were they not the right size?”

He smiles at you, “They fit just fine as ankle socks.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check the sizes, womens ones are pretty much all one size. I completely forget that men have massively different sized feet.”

He laughs, “Are you suggesting I have huge feet?”

You feel yourself flush a little, “I don’t think that’d necessarily be an inaccurate suggestion.”

Amused, he smiles. Hotch turns around to you both, momentarily taking his eyes off the road, “I need you to call Penelope, and tell her to get us all the CCTV she can get in the area. If we’re going to have to go in without enough men to cover the perimeter we’ll need all the tactical advantages we can get.”

“Of course, sir.”

***

Lunging forward, you tackle the unsub to the ground, effectively freeing Spencer from the grasp he’d previously been held in.

“It’s over Peter,” Hotch’s voice comes, even and steady.

“No it’s not.”

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re being tossed backwards, landing against some barbed wire. Immediately, you’re on your feet again, running after him. Not noticing how the wire has ripped a hole in your tights, and cut into your leg a little.

Grabbing his arms behind him, you use all your strength to subdue him to the floor, handcuffing him. Wiping the sweat off your brow, you breathe out a deep sigh of relief.

Derek has it from there, patting you on the shoulder and giving you a “Good job kiddo.” He leads Peter out.

You rub your chest, feeling the adrenaline start to flood out of your body with all the excitement now over. A stinging senstation in your calf gets your attention, and looking down you see the nasty wound oozing blood. It isn’t much, nothing that two stitches won’t fix.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having gotten up from his position on the floor, “You didn’t have to...Derek would have gotten him.”

“Why should he be the only one that gets to tackle people?” You ask, letting out a breathless tinkle of a laugh.

“Statistically, he is the one who does the most tackling out of all of us. Then Hotch, then Emily, then Rossi, then me, then you.”

“I am not the one that tackles the least,” You say indignantly.

He tips his head to the side, “Are you gonna argue with the guy who has an eidetic memory or are we going to get you stitched up?”

“Both, please.”

He laughs at that, linking his arm around your waist. You limp against him a little, out to the paramedics. Mostly it’s for Spencer’s benefit. That’s what you tell yourself, you’re letting him help you so he doesn’t feel emasculated.

When has Spencer Reid ever fallen pray to toxic masculinity?

He might have

When?

Well he could

You just like how he smells

It’s true. The faint waft of his cologne is incredibly comforting. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you for even a second, helping to hoist you so you can sit on the ambulance bed while the medics attend to your leg. You’re feeling a little woozy, so Spencer sits next to you, allowing you to lean on him for support.

“Can you tell me something?” You ask, gritting your teeth, “Distract me?”

It doesn’t really hurt, getting stitched up, you’ve just never found it the most comfortable of processes. All your favourite cases have ended with you not having to get sewn up. You know that much.

“I’ve actually only tackled one more person than you in my entire BAU career,” He says, deciding to return to your former discussion, “I didn’t really go out in the field all that much until a couple years in, it was only because of Hotch that I really went out in the field to take down an unsub for the first time. That was March 12th, 2005. You’ve only been here 9 months and have done almost as much physical stuff as me. One more and we’re even.”

“Well, if you could try not to be the person getting tackled by the unsub next time. Then I might not have to make a tackle.”

His mouth turns up at the corner, “You tackled him for me?”

You feel yourself growing embarassed, “Not for you. For the socks.”

“Oh the socks?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a little unfair to go putting yourself in harms way while wearing a gift someone got for you. 5 dollar socks Spencer, practically designer at that price, I’d hate to see them ruined day one.”

He laughs, his tone playful, “Well you’ll need to bare that in mind.”

“Huh?”

He tilts his head towards Emily, strutting her way across to the ambulance with Spencer’s go-bag in her arms. She hands it to him, smiling at you.

“Should I let Morgan know the team will no longer be in need of his services?”

You snort, “I’d hate to steal his brand.”

She shakes her head, “Drinks when we get back? Hotch said the jet’s ready for whenever you’re done, and Rossi says he’s buying.”

“You got it,” You nod.

She pats you on the shoulder, exaggeratedly eyeing your leg again and rolling her eyes as she walks away, “Idiot.”

You smile, turning back towards Spencer, “Are you coming for drinks? I can drive you home.”

He visibly considers it for a moment, “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“You’re all done here,” The paramedic interrupts, wiping down your leg with an anti-bacterial wipe, “Was a really smooth tear for barbed wire, shouldn’t leave that much of a scar.”

They press a bandage over it and you thank them, getting to your feet with the help of Spencer.

“Wait, why’d you get Emily to bring your go-bag if we’re going home?”

He looks almost bashful. Out of his bag, he pulls a three pack of tights. Just the kind you always wear. Down to your preferred brand, and everything.

“When did you-?”

“I noticed you rip them a lot while we’re on cases. I didn’t know if it was weird but then...the socks?” He gestures at his feet, floundering, “I’m sorry if that’s...I just didn’t-”

“No,” You cut off his ramble, “No, Spencer, that’s really sweet. Thank you, thank you so much. Can I hug you?”

He nods, happily. You wrap him into your arms, pressing your face against his chest. Inhaling the scent of him. Reveling in how safe you feel, how protected, thinking how you’d take three hundred stitches if it meant you got Spencer out of harms way. He was so thoughtful, so kind, so attentive to detail.

Oh fuck.

You can barely look at him. It hits you like a train, the realisation. Co-workers save each other from unsubs. Friends buy each other gifts that have meaning and value. But only somebody who is in love feels like this when they get handed tights. Oh.

It’s a warm feeling. Overwhelming. So much so that you miss Spencer saying he’ll be right back, scooting off to Rossi who’s shouting him over with a question the local PD need answering for their report.

You stumble a little, thankful that you have the blood loss and adrenaline rush to blame if anybody were to notice.

You wait for the wave of denial to hit, to come and lock your feelings back in the treasure chest you’ve managed to shove them down into now. It doesn’t come. Instead, you look at Spencer with a sense of awe that feels newfound, but has actually been here all along. Watching him speak to Rossi, you really notice him: just how much he gestures with his hands, how quickly he relays information, how the huge smile on his face, when he turns around to notice you staring, truly meets his eyes.

***

You can’t tell if it makes you a good profiler, or somewhat of a stalker, that you notice Spencer wears the ankle socks you got him to work everyday for the next 9 days.

Spencer worries he’s being a little too obvious, but he can’t help that whenever he sees the socks he beams at them. They remind him of you. Unbeknownst to everybody but Dave (who somehow notices everything), he spends a good minute or so a day sneaking a peek at the novelty socks under his converse. And then trailing his eyes over to you. Thinking how much he loves the person who got them for him.

----

B is for Blindfolds

Tagslist (this is just people who replied to the post about this series and said they’d like to be tagged! let me know if you’d like to be added/removed to this series masterlist): @reidingmelodies @rem-ariiana

[mochegato]

Calling Dibs

This day was going to be boring, Jason knew that before he agreed to the trip in the first place.  ‘Agreed’ is a generous term.  ‘Relented’ might be a better term. Regardless, he was in Paris for the next week.  He was looking forward to the Louvre and seeing Notre Dame, but he was expected to spend time with his family for a large part of the trip and end with a branch opening party, because those are always so much fun.

He had barely plopped onto the hotel couch when something went flying past the building, crashing into the building down the street in a cacophony of shattered glass and warped metal.  “Holy shit!” Jason yelled, jumping up and running to the window to assess the situation.  The family looked to each other to see if anyone had a better grasp of the situation. Everyone shared the same confounded expression, before running out on the balcony to check out the situation.  

Bruce sighed.  This was most definitely not part of the plans.  This was supposed to be a relaxing week with the family looking at art for Damian, going up in the Eiffel Tower (and preventing him from jumping off) for Duke, sampling French foods and checking out French fashion for Steph, exploring the catacombs for Tim, attending the ballet for Cass, visiting Notre Dame for Jason, and time together as a family for Dick, with just a side of meetings for him.  Superheroing was not one of the scheduled activities.

Bruce opened his mouth to state a plan, but before the words made it past his lips, blurs of red and black swung past them toward the creature that had destroyed the building.  It took more than a few minutes for him to finally close his mouth in a resolute line as they watched the two heroes fight.  Jason’s mouth stayed open in awe as he watched the red figure expertly dodge and strike the creature.  It stayed open until the creature backhanded the red hero into a wall of the building across the street.  

The group flinched in sympathy at the sight, all too familiar with the feeling of getting smashed into a building.  She fell to the ground in a crouch.  Instead of fear, she looked back up with a glare. She jumped away and landed next to her partner in black and seemed to have a conversation before separating. The black hero distracted the creature while she swung further away.  It almost seemed like she had run away until they saw her charge at the creature from the side, hitting circles that decorated its body, shattering them like mirrors as she went.  With each hit the creature seemed to deflate more, until she hit the last one, a black butterfly emerging from it.  

She captured it in her yoyo and released it almost instantly as a white butterfly.  She called something out and threw her yoyo up into the air.  As soon as she did, a pinkish red wave rushed across the city and suddenly all the damage they had watched with their own eyes, was reset to its previous condition.  

They stared, mouths agape again, trying to take in everything they saw.  Finally the silence was broken by Jason.  “I call dibs!”

“What!” Dick exclaimed.  “You can’t just call dibs on someone.”

“I just did,” Jason scoffed.  “I call dibs on the red badass.  You can have the cat one.  Follow B’s footsteps, protégé.”

“You don’t even know if she’s straight.  What if she’s into girls?” Stephanie objected. “Maybe they both are.”

Jason stared at her for a second before his eyes narrowed.  “Fine. But if she’s anything other than a lesbian or ace, I have dibs.  And the cat one is up for grabs.”

“Oh, I’ll grab,” Steph smirked.

“Fine, whatever,” Dick groused, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.  “Wasn’t looking for romance this trip anyway.”

“Your libido is not the priority right now. Father, did you bring us here for this?” Damian demanded.

Bruce kept his eyes on the spot where the creature had been a few seconds earlier before turning into a distraught woman. “No, I had no idea.  But now that we know, let’s investigate.  We’ll find out as much as we can from outside sources and try to meet up with the heroes when we can.  If they have a regular patrol, we can try to meet them somewhere. If they don’t, we might have to try to show up discretely at the next attack.”  He observed the people below already returning to their normal jobs. “It doesn’t seem like this is too out of the ordinary for everyone, so I don’t think we’ll have to wait long.”

He wasn’t wrong.  In fact, they only had to wait until the next night for another akuma to strike.  As soon as the akuma was dealt with, they caught up with the Parisian heroes, though in hindsight, they perhaps should have announced their presence a bit more clearly, judging by the way Red Hood was hanging upside down off the side of the building they were on.

“Sorry again,” Ladybug grimaced as she helped pull him back onto the roof.

“No, we shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” Red Hood assured her.  “I was just struck too speechless by you to give you a better warning.”

Ladybug blinked at him a few times before turning to the rest of the group and motioning toward Red Hood helplessly. Chat gave her an amused smile. “She tends to have that effect even on the best of us.”

“As Red Hood said, we should have announced our presence more plainly.  We likely would have reacted the same if you had snuck up on one of us,” Batman said, taking a step forward.

“We just wouldn’t have looked as kick ass doing it,” Red Hood added, leaning toward Ladybug.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at him, but allowed him to move closer to her.  “Well, you certainly didn’t look ‘kick ass’ falling like that,” she smirked at him.

“I’ll work on how I look when falling, then.  I have a feeling I’m going to be falling a lot for you.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him and puckered her lips in an unsuccessful effort to keep them from quirking up.  Red Hood’s chest puffed up almost imperceptibly at the sight.  Ladybug’s eyes darted over to Batman and back to him.  “First, I don’t think you came all the way to Paris just to hit on me.  I believe we have other things to talk about. Second, if you’re going to hit on someone, take off the helmet.  It’s rude. I can’t read your expressions at all. It puts me at a disadvantage.”

Red Hood quirked his head to the side. “Can’t take the helmet off. Secret identity, you know?  B would kill me.  If he didn’t the squirt there,” he motioned toward Robin, “would try. But trust me, if you saw my face, you’d swoon.  And I assure you, I would have come all the way to Paris if I’d known you were here waiting.”

“But we didn’t know you were here,” Batman cut in harshly.  He placed a hand on Red Hood’s shoulder and pulled him back with the others.  “We were unaware there was a supervillain in Paris. We’d like to offer assistance, ours and the Justice League’s, but first we should introduce ourselves.  I’m Batman.  That’s Spoiler, Black Bat, Signal, Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing,” he motioned to each of them in turn as he said their name.  “And you’ve met Red Hood.”

Ladybug and Chat nodded to each of them as Batman said their names.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.  I’m Ladybug. This is my partner Chat Noir.”

“Sorry, we didn’t bring our full team.  We would have if we’d known there was going to be a party,” Chat smiled disarmingly.

“We’ll be sure to let you know next time,” Spoiler grinned back at him.

“Can we sit down with you sometime to discuss the situation?” Red Robin interrupted whatever Chat was about to respond with. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, but we weren’t planning on staying in town too much longer.  Not that we haven’t been enjoying our time here.  And we’ve definitely enjoyed watching you work. You have got some really good moves.”

“Oi,” Jason interrupted, smacking him in the shoulder.  “I called dibs.”

“Dibs?” Ladybug quirked her head to the side and scrunched up her nose in such an adorable way Jason let out an almost inaudible choke.  Quiet enough that only Red Robin, letting out an almost as silent scoff, and Chat Noir, with his enhanced hearing, heard him.  Chat zeroed in on him with a knowing smirk.  He rested his arm on his baton and got into a comfortable position leaning against it, waiting for the entertainment.  “What is ‘dibs’?” Ladybug continued, oblivious to the dynamic between the three.

Chat’s smirk grew.  “Dibs, M’lady, is when you claim first rights to do something.”

Ladybug stared at him for a few seconds as she put together what he was implying.  Her head whipped around to Red Hood.  Her face was furrowed in an offended scowl.  She pointed to herself.  “Am I the thing you’re going to do first?”

Jason jerked back at the suggestion as Chat Noir and the rest of his family, sans Batman and Robin, started laughing.  “No! No, no, no.  No. Not… No.”  He waved his arms desperately.  “Not that.  I…”  He took a breath and glared at his family to get them to shut up, expecting them to know he was glaring harshly under his helmet.  “I just get to be the first to try to impress you.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes.  “You want to impress me?  Do something impressive.  And I don’t date as a superhero, so you’re going to have to impress civilian me. Good luck with that.”

Chat gave Red Hood a patronizing grin.  “You’re going to need it,” he singsonged.  He looked back and forth between Ladybug and Red Hood a few times, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  He swung his baton over his shoulders and rested his arms over it.  “But then again, she is the embodiment of luck so, maybe she just gave it to you.”

Ladybug’s head whipped back to him and she narrowed her eyes at him in warning.  He smiled innocently back at her as if he hadn’t just been meddling in her love life… again.  He needed to meddle in his own instead.  Although, with the way Spoiler kept eying him, maybe it was already taken care of. “Anyway,” she said loudly, bringing the focus back to the topic at hand.  “Tonight isn’t good.  We both have early mornings tomorrow.  But tomorrow night should work.  How about meeting here tomorrow at 22h?”

“Okay, now that that is settled, I have a very important question,” Spoiler spoke up.  Signal groaned next to her, preparing for whatever her question was going to be.  “Where is the best place to get some French treats?” Batman let out a deep sigh. “What!  I came to France to eat amazing French food and shop French fashion. They live here.  They should know the good places to go.”

Chat straightened up immediately and sent Ladybug a feral grin.  “You don’t say…”

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed warningly.

“They’re just asking for advice,” he answered in his most exaggeratedly innocent voice he could muster.  “You wouldn’t want to deprive them of the best food in Paris. Would you, M’lady?”  The devilish grin in his eyes was a complete contrast to the innocent voice.  He turned back to the bats, the picture of politeness.  “The absolute best place to get pastries in Paris is Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie on Rue Gotlib.  It’s amazing.  I recommend trying… everything.  And it just so happens their daughter is one of the most amazing designers in… anywhere.”

Spoiler grinned at him.  “A man after my own heart.  Thanks, Kitty Cat.  I’ll take that under advisement.  And do you also frequent there?”  

Chat blushed slightly and looked away quickly, but not before Ladybug saw the reaction and smirked at him.  “Yes, he does,” she assured Spoiler.  “He frequently frequents there.”

“And what about you?” Red Hood interjected, leaning toward Ladybug again, much to Batman’s chagrin.

“Are you kidding?  She’s the reason I found it in the first place.  I swear she’s there daily,” Chat grinned.

“Ooh, Kitty Cat, you sure know the way to a girl’s heart,” Spoiler purred at him.  Chat’s cheeks burned red, but didn’t look away from her this time.

Ladybug pursed her lips in annoyance at his romantic interference but quickly smoothed out at the sight of his blush.  A smile was back on her face when she turned back to the Bats, eyes lingering a bit longer on Red Hood before moving to Batman. “Anyway, we will see you again tomorrow. But Chat, maybe you should get an idea of what Spoiler likes so you can bring treats for her to the meeting tomorrow.  I have to go though.”  She waved at the bats before turning to Chat with a wink.  “Have a good night.”

Red Hood stepped forward before she jumped away. “You don’t want to know what I like for tomorrow?” he asked huskily.

She looked up at him with a sultry smirk.  “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of what you like.  Sweet dreams.”

Red Hood watched her jump away.  “Oh they will be,” he whispered to himself.

<><><><><> 

Marinette had been apprehensive all morning.  Every time the bell above the door rung, she braced for the bats.  She let out a relieved breath as a man walked in by himself.  She wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure the group would come in together.  She wasn’t sure why she knew that, but somehow she was confident of it.  The man blinked a few times at her before smiling charmingly at her.

And damn if that smile couldn’t melt ice.  She let out another breath, this one to calm her cheeks.  She smiled at him, warmer than her regular customer service smile.  “Can I help you, monsieur?”

“Do you, by any chance, have a bowl or something I can put some water in?” he asked awkwardly in barely accented French.  The cocked head and curious look Marinette gave him prompted him to continue.  “I wanted to… there’s this stray dog outside and he looks like he needs some water.”

American, she noted… with dimensions roughly matching Red Hood’s.  And oh God, those muscles weren’t just the suit.  Well fuck.  Guess she did give him some luck after all.  “Of course he’s fucking Adonis hot,” she muttered under her breath, but apparently not quietly enough.  He smirked at her and chuckled.

Marinette’s eyes snapped up to him and she blushed furiously at having gotten caught.  She took a deep breath and smiled back at him.  “Blonde with a dark stripe down his back?”  He nodded at her, a surprised look on his face.  “That’s Éclair.  He’s a local stray.  An absolute sweetheart.  Here, let me get the bowl I usually use for him.”  She rushed to the back and came back with a filled dog bowl and some pancetta. “Can you give him this too, please?  I usually do, but I’ve been stuck inside most of the morning.”

He gave her another ice meltingly brilliant smile and nodded in thanks.

She tensed at the next man who walked in, not really knowing why she was apprehensive.  Red Hood was already there.  She gave him her customer service smile even as her eyes darted out the window to watch Red Hood feeding Éclair.  She could imagine the hearty laugh he let out when Éclair leaped up to lick his face.  She smiled at the sight.  

“Excuse me,” the man stepped into her line of sight.

She immediately turned to focus on him, regretfully tearing her eyes away from Red Hood and Éclair.  “Yes, monsieur.  Sorry about that.  How can I help you?”

The man looked her up and down and leaned toward her. “I was looking for something sweet. Maybe you could help me.”

She cringed internally, but gave him a strained smile as she leaned away.  “Of course, sir.  We have a lot of sweet treats.  Maybe you can look over the petit fours, éclairs, macarons, and tartlets.  Let me know if you have any questions.”

“I have a question already,” the man gave her a leering smile.  “Are any of the treats as sweet as you?”

She gave him a flat look and took a step back. She almost missed the door chime ringing.  “I assure you, monsieur, you would find me far from sweet. Let me know when you’re ready to order.” She turned away and started wiping the counter instead.

Red Hood took the opportunity to step up to her and pass the bowl back to her.  “Thank you. He looked very happy after the treats.”

Marinette blinked at him a few times and looked down at the bowl unmoving for a few seconds before the reason clicked for her. “Right,” she answered, louder than she meant to, as she took the bowl.  “Can I get you anything?”

“What do you recommend?” he asked as he moved to block the other man’s line of sight to her.

She smiled appreciatively at him.  Maybe he was impressive after all.  “You looking for something sweet or savory?  We have great bread, but if you’re looking for a treat, I would recommend an assortment of eclairs.  It just seems apropos.  Honestly, I think it’s all good, but I’m a bit biased.” She leaned in as if confiding a secret and winked at him.  

He chuckled and nodded.  “That is definitely something to consider.”  He side eyed the other man in the store.  “I’ll take a look around I think.  Figure out what it is I want.”

Marinette nodded and gave him an understanding smile. She turned to the other man.  “Have you decided, monsieur?”

The man made a show of looking around.  “Are you on the menu?  Because I definitely know what I’m interested in,” the man answered, leering at her again.

Marinette gave the man a flat look.  It was not the first time she’d heard the line.  She didn’t get it as much as waitresses, but still, it was a tired line… from a married man… that she had already turned down. “No, sir.  I’m not on the menu,” she answered curtly, “because we are not a brothel, which are illegal in Paris, I might add.  However, a quick internet search will direct you to the areas of the city where you can find that kind of menu items.  If you would like one of the pastries, please let me know which ones you would like, otherwise, please leave.”

“I’m not good enough for you, but you’ll flirt with him,” he motioned toward civilian Red Hood.

“First, I get to choose who I’m interested in and that isn’t you.  Second, he,” she motioned toward civilian Red Hood, “called dibs on flirting with me.  Now either order or leave.”

The man huffed and left, trying to slam the door on the way out.  The door closed with a gentle thud.  Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Sorry about that, monsieur.  Are you ready to order?”  She sent him an apologetic smile.

Jason stared at her for a few beats trying to figure out if her previous words meant anything.  She could have just said that because the guy was an asshole.  It could be a coincidence.  And her partner could have sent him here purely because they had really good food.  “Oh, um… what do you recommend I take?” he asked again absentmindedly, his mind still on how likely it was that it was all a coincidence.

Marinette smiled innocently at him.  “Me out.”

Jason looked at her wide eyed.  “What?”

“You asked what I recommended you take.  I recommend you take me out,” she shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin was devilish.

Jason opened his mouth and closed it again. “Any other day, beautiful.  Any other day I’d say yes, but I’m kind of working on someone else and I’m a one woman man.”

Marinette looked at him for a few seconds, a brilliant smile beaming at his response.  

“Thanks for helping out, Sweetie,” her mom called coming from the back room.  “I think we have it covered now.  Oh,” she looked up at Jason, then at Marinette’s smile, and back to Jason. She smirked at the two.  “I think you should be able to take off now, get to your real job.”

Marinette nodded and took her apron off, stowing it under the counter.  “Thanks, Maman.” She leaned up and kissed her cheek before making her way around the counter. Jason turned to her as she walked out, watching her as she moved.  She paused a few feet in front of him.  “I have to admit, you impressed me after all.”  

She smiled sweetly at him before moving to the door.  She turned back at the last second, twirling to face him.  “But you flirted much better with the helmet.”  She winked at him and disappeared through the door.

Her mom chuckled before clearing her throat. “Anything I can help you with, dear?”

Jason turned to her blankly, still processing what Marinette had said, after a second he smiled and rushed to the door.  “No, thank you ma’am.  I have some dibs to collect on.”

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[lilhawkeye3]

Tea Time With Hawk ☕️🦅

The Bad Batch was... badly designed

If you like the Bad Batch & aren’t open to reading a critical look into their design, don’t read this.

So I’ve already written about The Clone Wars and the issues with Tup and Rex’s character designs. For me, these aren’t reasons enough for me to dislike their characters as a whole (although I refuse to draw Tup’s tattoo when I do draw him).

With the Bad Batch though... I really don’t like them. I don’t want to draw them. Their designs make me uncomfortable, and for two reasons other than just the designs themselves:

1. The Bad Batch was designed for the newest and latest season of TCW, meaning those involved in the creation and in the direction of the Star Wars Umiverse in general are aware of issues brought up in the last decade about POC representation and racism in Star Wars (I say this because it’s been widely talked about, especially after the sequel movies premiered).

2. These characters were introduced specifically as a backdoor pilot for their own series. If the reception to them hadn’t been as good, the Bad Batch series probably wouldn’t have been greenlighted (this is something done in Hollywood in general, not a specific Disney thing). The problem isn’t that they were created in mind to have a series about them, but that these clones have the most whitewashed appearance and were chosen to be the focus of a new series.

So, on to a closer look at exactly what I find issue with these characters.

Crosshair: why the fuck does the sharpshooter look like a white man (this is nothing against white men, but he is supposed to be the CLONE of a BROWN MAN). EVERYTHING about him is changed so drastically that it doesn’t even look like they used the base model of a clone for him.

For comparison:

Top photo is Crosshair. Bottom three are Fives, Jester, and Echo (after the Citadel, which I’ll get to).

Crosshair’s jaw structure is angular and his cheekbones more vertical and prominent. His hairline is more rigid, his hair is white, and with the painting details you can see it is mean to be straight. His nose is so much narrower it’s as if he had a nose job done. Even his lip shape is smaller, which is ridiculous seeing as the clones already have such thin lips. His eyebrows are thinner and less bold. All these are pbviously changed even when comparing to Echo, who is meant to be thin in malnourished in that picture.

Crosshair’s mutation goes further than being a great sharpshooter. They literally made him into a white man.

And then I wonder why he seems to be the most popular of the Bad Batch members in the fandom... sigh.

Tech: again, it looks as if they used a whole different base structure than the normal clones. So here we have his “desirable mutation” meaning he’s incredibly smart. He is shorter and less built than the other clones, his hair is lightened, his nose narrower, his jaw narrower and less square... the changes aren’t as drastic as with Crosshair, but he’s still changed to fit more Eurocentric features. Tech is also much shorter than all the other clones? Idk personally I found that strange and unnecessary cause it not only adds to “nerds are smaller” stereotypes, but more troubling, it subtly pushes the notion that the larger brown men are not as smart as the smaller whitewashed man.

Wrecker: I can’t even begin to describe how animalistic they make him seem in comparison to the previous two. While Crosshair and Tech’s mutations are more mental and refined and thus they are given Eurocentric features... Wrecker’s mutation focuses on brute strength and yet he retains the more typical clone features of the show. Yeah idk just look at the picture and the way he acts in the show. He’s better than the first two but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hunter: okay enhancing his senses is... fine. Honestly he’s the least problematic in my opinion. But like... they were not subtle in trying to make him like Rambo. His hair, his facial features, even the bandana. He’s not as whitewashed as Crosshair or Tech, but he is obviously modeled after Sylvester Stalone, who y’know is a white guy.

And then they have Echo elevated to the Bad Batch. @thatfunkyopossum made an art that pointed it out best, but there isn’t really an excuse for how much paler they made his skin. Yes brown skinned people can and do get darker or lighter based on seasons but like... we don’t just lose all our melanin and become completely white if we never get sunlight. I hope they give him some color back for this sequel 😅 [Edit 4/2021: LMAO HE GOT WORSE SOMEHOW]

So yeah. The Bad Batch makes me extremely uncomfortable as a whole, and you won’t see me creating stuff for them (I drew Hunter once for a friend but that’s the extent I’ll get involved with them). It’s fine if you do like them, like I’m not going to hate you or anything, but I did want to write this up because enough people were interested.

I am of course welcome to any discussion about it (both in agreement or disagreement) :) but if you start attacking anyone in reblogs I will not hesitate to block you. *Please check the notes if you want to see the discussion!*

[mrsbrekkers]

Bestie I had an idea can I plz request some Jesper x Reader with the only one bed trope and maybe include dancing in the rain? Imma leave everything else up to you because you have an amazing imagination. Once again no rush! 🤍🤍🤍

BESTIEEEEEEEEE hi :) so, i left out the rain bit bcuz my brain went; part two? i can write part two muhhahahahAHHAHA. but yes here's one bed trope tehe

pairings! jesper x reader / kaz x inej, nina x matthias + wylan being the bad bittie he is and making flash bombs

reader is gender neutral per usual in my jesper fics!

warnings! none? mention of a flash bomb, swearing, sexual t e n s i o n, kaz being a shipper of reader and jesper, kaz also being a simp for inej, jesper being H O T, anyways here it isssssssssss

word count! 2296!

WHAT IS IT ABOUT HOTELS?

“So, we’re going to be staying in hotels? Seriously Kaz?” Inej spoke. She’d been the first to speak after Kaz had announced their newest job. It presented the chance for twenty million kruge, which split among the seven, was about three million each. It involved crashing a merchant’s party and killing a few people, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t done so before. No, what irked the team was the necessity to stay in hotels.

“Wouldn’t that leave a trail behind, Kaz? You know, the way to find who did what we’re planning on doing?” Jesper asked, raising a brow. but Kaz simply shook his head. The Crows should’ve known that Kaz had his weird, out of the box ways to cover up his trail. Especially when it involved murder. Sure, people could suspect the Dregs, but they could never pin-point anything big that they were involved in unless Kaz let it be known.

“It won’t. I paid under a different alias. A dead one, but it works all the same,” Kaz responded, looking over at Jesper, who simply laid back into his seat and nodded in understanding.

“What will be the rooming arrangements?” Wylan asked. His eyes were set on the flash bomb he was working on. One to help blind everyone at the party before the killing was done.

“Nina and Matthias will room together. Inej, Wylan, and I will all have our own rooms, and Y/N and Jesper will share a bedroom,” Kaz responded, making Y/N and Jesper slowly turn their heads to look at their boss.

“What?!” They said in unison, making all of the Crows excluding Kaz laugh. Yes, because the suffering of two friends is so funny! Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave Kaz, who shrugged.

“I need my own room, Inej needs her own room, Wylan also does, he’s working on a bomb after all. Nina and Matthias were a given, so that leaves you two, and I wasn’t paying any more than I had on the rooms,” Kaz reasoned, but he did have underlying reasons. Inej and him had a bet on whether the two would get together or not, and for once, he was putting effort into winning a bet. Which explained Inej and her glare thrown his way.

“You can’t switch Inej and Jesper around? Inej and I are good friends! I’m sure she’d love to share a room with me,” Y/N said, looking at Inej, who nodded.

“The issue is not the room itself, but the amount of beds,” Kaz said, smirking just slightly, one that Jesper nor Y/N caught onto since they both looked at one another, realization rushing over their faces.

“There’s only one bed?!” They both said in unison once more, making the Crows all laugh once more, even louder this time though.

“Yep, it was cheaper, and I want to make as much profit as I can from this,” Kaz said, his eyes lifting from the drawing he was now working on with Wylan, who’d set the bomb aside for the time being. His eyes had that look in it. No room for discussion.

Y/N and Jesper sighed, their heads falling to the table.

Inej looked over at Kaz then, her eyes narrowing. “You set this up. Unfair, you’re cheating in the bet,” she accused. Kaz said nothing though, simply going back to the drawing that he’d been doing with Wylan, nodding as Wylan spoke.

“This is bullcrap,” Inej murmured, rolling her eyes as she looked at Jesper and Y/N, who now bickered over who would get the bed and who would lay on the ground.

“No, that isn’t fair Y/N and you know that. You don’t get to claim the bed because you're Kaz’s favorite! One, that’s a lie, Inej is. Two, I have to have a bed! It is that simple!” Jesper argued back, but Y/N shook their head.

“No, no, no! It isn’t that simple! I won’t miss out on a hotel bed because you so desperately need a bed, Jesper Fahey, that isn’t fair!”

And Inej let her head fall to the table, a huff being heard from her. Children.

The day came then. The day for the Crows to arrive at the hotels, and before Kaz could even fully check them in Y/N and Jesper were running down the hall, full sprint. They both stopped at their door, Jesper trying to open it despite needing the key card - which a smirking Kaz had down the steps.

“You imbecile, it needs the key card, which conveniently you forgot downstairs! Cheater!” Y/N yelled. The Crows walked up the steps soon after, seeing the two doubled over, catching their breath. Nina couldn’t help but laugh, walking into the room her and Matthias were assigned. Inej was the next into her room, Wylan across from her. Finally, Kaz arrived in front of the two.

“I didn’t cheat! You started running before Kaz-” Jesper pointed at their boss, who stood with a roll of his eyes. “-finished checking in, and I wasn’t going to give you that head start. Who’s the cheater now, huh?!” The bickering had been quite the site for the past few days. Most of the other Crows found it amusing, especially Nina. The bed hadn’t been brought up since the day Kaz announced sleeping arrangements, so to remedy the problem? The two put their bickering into everything else.

“I’m going to have to buy earplugs from downstairs,” Kaz murmured. He was half sure he’d lose his mind with these two.

“Tell him I get the bed!” Y/N pointed at Jesper now, looking at their boss.

“Tell them I get the bed!” Jesper retaliated his pointed finger shifting to Y/N.

Looking between the two, Kaz had to compose himself to refrain from laughing. He’d really done this. He’d caused this and he wasn’t half mad about it. “Here,” was all he said before dropping the key card between the two, watching both of them scramble to grab it. If only the other Crows were here to see this. He then walked to his room across the way. Of course the room was right next to Inej’s.

Y/N managed to get their hand on the keycard first, standing and opening the door before running towards the bed, hopping onto it. Feeling the comfort as they landed, they smirked. “I win-” but Jesper had also jumped onto the bed, now on top of Y/N, cutting the latter off as they were suffocated.

“Jesper!” Y/N squirmed underneath him, pushing the taller boy off of them. Jesper simply chuckled, rolling over to now lay next to Y/N, glancing over at them as he laid there. He smiled, seeing how they’re chest rose up and down, hair a mess. Their breathing was irregular, but it reminded him of the run up the stairs, full of pushing, laughing. Even if they bickered, Jesper couldn’t help but admire everything about Y/N. How their lips were so perfect. Their skin looked soft to the touch, being lit by the setting sun outside. They glew in the light. They lit up the room they were in. Because even if the sun disappeared, there’d be them. They were the sun. His sun.

Y/N turned their head, seeing Jesper staring at them. “Jes?” They whispered. They watched Jesper shake himself from the trance he’d been in, sitting up and running a hand down his face. They followed him, sitting now.

“Nothing,” Jesper said, standing and walking into the bathroom, leaving a confused Y/N. Humming a bit, Y/N stood and grabbed the keycard and wrote a small note that they were going to Inej’s room. Walking out of the room and knocking on her door, Y/N bobbed back and forth on their heels.

Confusion laced their features, unsure what Jesper had been thinking. Y/N normally was a phenomenal reader of emotions, but it appeared they’d overestimated said ability. Jesper had been staring, but it wasn’t like they had a problem with it. They had stared longingly across the room at one another dozens of times - not that they considered it longingly, more in a friendly manner. Even if it definitely wasn’t in such a way.

Inej opened the door, smiling as she saw her friend. She stepped to the side, letting Y/N in. “What brings you here?” Does Jesper like me? Was the first thought that came to mind to ask Inej. Weird question to ask, but Jesper tended to tell Inej a lot. It wouldn’t be surprising if he had told her. Even then, Inej was the most observant person Y/N knew.

Y/N sat on the bed, glancing around the hotel room, trying to find something to focus on. The two talked for a good hour, playing whatever games they could think of to pass the time. “You know you can stay here if you’d like. Even with the one bed,” Inej offered, smiling a bit. Over the course of a few years, the two had become close. They told one another everything.

“No, no, it’s alright. I saw the double bed in Kaz’s room though. He didn’t get the room just for himself,” Y/N said, glancing up at Inej. A way to be near one another without having to cross boundaries both may not be ready for. A way to watch over one another. Y/N thought of Jesper then. How they looked over one another without meaning too. Whether it be on jobs, or in general around the Barrel; they looked after one another.

Inej kicked Y/N in the shin, raising a brow. “When are you and Jesper going to admit those little feelings for yours?” She asked, making Y/N’s head shoot up.

“I don’t have feelings for Jesper-”

“Denial,” Inej said, crossing her arms. Maybe it was denial. Maybe that’s why Y/N had been so apprehensive to share a room with him. Much more, only one bed. Because they feared their feelings would ultimately be revealed.

“I did not come in here to be told I’m in denial about my feelings, Inej. I was going to offer up potentially going down to the pool, having some time off before this giant heist we’re going to try and pull off, butttttttt not anymore,” Y/N said, standing. A smile was still on their lips though, a small laugh being heard as they walked towards the door.

“I know that offer is still up!” Inej called as Y/N left the room, heading back towards their shared room, they entered, seeing a now showered Jesper. They stopped dead in their tracks, eyes scanning Jesper. He was shirtless, a towel wrapped around his torso. It was a sight to see, and Y/N was receiving a front seated view.

“I-um…” Y/N spoke quietly, tilting their head, trying to take this all in. Jesper’s head lifted upon hearing the small words from the door, seeing his roommate for the night.

“Your note said you were going to spend time with Inej, I expected you to be there longer,” Jesper chuckled, leaning down and grabbing a shirt and pants for the night, but upon heading towards the bathroom, Y/N stopped him, hand on his chest. His eyes shifted down to their hand, then lifted to lock on their lips.

“You wanna come down to the pool?” Their voice was quiet, their own eyes on Jesper’s lips as well. Jesper said nothing, his hand moving to Y/N’s hand on his chest and pulling them to him, his lips connecting with theirs. While Y/N had been gone, Jesper had time to think of his feelings. His apprehensiveness to the one bed. The shared room. It was all because of fear. Fear his feelings would be revealed, but after what Nina had told him days before - “Y/N looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world Jesper.” - He knew he could finally take this step.

Y/N’s eyes shut immediately, fingers moving through Jesper’s wet hair as they were pulled back towards the one bed. The kiss was demanding, needy. Like neither of them had kissed someone in years. Centuries, even. Desire coursed through the two of them. That intimate desire to be close. “Screw the pool,” Y/N murmured, giggling a bit as the two of them fell back onto the bed.

“Screw the pool indeed,” Jesper agreed, his hands finding Y/N’s waist, holding his hands there as they fell back. His lips reconnected with theirs, preparing to flip the two, Jesper wrapped his arm fully around Y/N’s waist, but the knock on the door stopped them.

“Inej,” Y/N murmured, pulling away and walking to the door, opening it and seeing the other Crows there.

“We’re waiting on you!” Nina exclaimed, excited to relax for the night, even if it was just for a few hours. They all needed it. Y/N nodded, entering the room once more with a scoff. So much for screwing the damn pool. There was someone else they wanted to screw though. Clearing their throat, they grabbed their swim stuff, looking down at Jesper who was still on the bed, clearly upset.

“Come on, we can make them pay for that later,” Y/N offered, raising a brow. Jesper rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement, taking Y/N’s hand as they extended it. When they arrived at the pool, the other’s had already begun their fun, Kaz sitting in one of the chairs, drawings of the heist in front of him, glasses on as if he was watching over his children. His crow children. Inej being the only exception.

[atlafan]

Sweet Tooth - One Shot

a/n: dentistrry is here!! I only researched a couple of things, so if you’re in the dentistry/medical field please don’t come for me if things are inaccurate, it’s just a fic, you know? This ia really cute, sweet, datey fic, so I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful! (not proofread) Consider buying me a coffee if you’re able! 

Warnings: fluff and smut (the word molested is used, nothing bad happens or has happened to the main characters, it’s just mentioned during a conversation)

Pairing: Harry x OC

Words: 18K

“Dad, I can go by myself.” Abby groans to her father.

“I have to make sure everything gets billed correctly. Your dentist said only two are impacted, so only half is covered my medical and the other half is covered by dental.”

She huffs out a sigh, but nods her head as they enter Tufts Medical Center. Abby was finally getting a consult for her wisdom teeth. Perhaps at the age of twenty she felt a little late to the game for this, but her mouth had only started to hurt a little this past year. She was a little nervous about being knocked out for surgery, but she also just wanted her mouth to feel better. It was the summer before her junior year of college, so now was the perfect time to get it done. Abby and her dad make their way through the building, and get to the floor they need to be on.

“Abigail Simmons.” Her dad says to the receptionist and she nods.

“Someone will be out for her shortly. Did you have her most recent x-rays sent to us?”

“Yes.” Her dad says, and they both go to take a seat.

Abby’s leg was bouncing and she was chewing on her bottom lip. It was just a consult, there was really nothing to be worried about.

“Abigail?” Her eyes widen as she looks over at the person who just said her name. He had a toothy smile and was wearing a set of blue scrubs. She and her father both stand up. “Hi, I’m Harry, you can follow me.” He smiles to the two of them as he leads them to the consult rooms. He gets Abby situated in the dental chair. “Just so you both know, I am a student, but a competent one, which is why one of the other nurses isn’t here, but one of them will come by shortly, and so will the doctor.” He sits down on the stool and wheels over to Abby as he puts his gloves on. “Heard your mouth’s been sore, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“She called me at school in tears.” Her dad says and she glares at him.

“College student?” Harry raises an eyebrow and looks back at the computer to review her x-rays. “How old are you?”

“Twenty.” Abby says.

“Your teeth are, like, really straight. Did you have braces?”

“When she was in middle school. She stills wears her retainer.”

Harry and Abby both look at her father and blink. He was really starting to piss her off. She could answer for herself.

“Well, you’ve got a very good girl here, don’t you, Mr. Simmons? Listen, uh, this is going to take a few minutes. I need to look at all of her teeth and confirm the ones that are impacted and if the other two have room or not. There’s another waiting area right over there. I’ll call you back over once the doctor’s here. Would that be alright?”

“It’s just…Abby’s really nervous-“

“Dad, please, I’m fine.”

“Alright.” Her dad sighs. “I’ll be right over there.”

“Bit of a helicopter you have there.” Harry smirks at her.

“Thank you for getting rid of him. I bring myself to the doctor all the time, but for whatever reason he was adamant about coming to this.”

“It’s major surgery I don’t blame him.” Harry grabs a bib to put around Abby. “So, you go by Abby?”

“Mhm.” She blushes as he clips the bib in place and adjusts her hair.

“Is it true, are you nervous?”

“A little…mostly about the surgery, not so much about the rest. I’m not one of those people that’s afraid of the dentist.”

“No worries, love, you’ll be in good hands with us.” He smiles. “I’m gonna put the chair back now, alright?”

“Okay.”

The chair slowly goes back, and he situates a pair of sunglasses onto her before fixing the light over her eyes.

“Could you open up for me as much as you can? I’ll try to be as gentle as possible since I know you’re experiencing a lot of discomfort.”

She nods and opens up wide. She feels his pinkies enter her mouth and feel around her gums. She winces a few times when he brushes up against the back of her mouth. She hears him whisper sorry a few times. Abby tries to focus on anything else. She focuses on how green his eyes are, and how seemingly perfect his skin is. Her mind wanders to how people get skin like that. What’s his routine? How could she get skin as smooth? Does he see a dermatologist regularly?

“Okay, Abby, I’m gonna out the chair back upright, and go grab your dad and the doctor. Hope that didn’t hurt too much.”

“It was fine, thank you.”

Abby’s dad, two nurses, Harry, and the doctor all come over to her to discuss her teeth. She definitely needed all four removed. They settle on a date for her to come back and have the procedure done, and Harry gives her the rundown on how to prep for the surgery.

“We’ll see you in a couple of weeks, Abby.” Harry smiles.

“You’ll be here?”

“You bet.”

Even though she was nervous as fuck to go under, she was almost excited to see the handsome dental student again. At least it was something to look forward to.

//

Abby had an early morning surgery, and she had to stop eating the night before. So she was exhausted and starving, not to mention she was a ball of nerves. Her dad drove her in for the appointment, and assured her he’d be there afterwards.

“Abby?” Harry comes out all scrubbed up and ready to go. She stands up and waves back to her dad before going with him. He brings her over to a consult chair and types on the computer. “Alright, whatcha have for breakfast?”

“N-nothing, I haven’t eaten since dinner last night.”

“Good girl.” He says without looking at her. “And what about a midnight snack?”

“Harry, I haven’t eaten since dinner last night.”

“You remembered my name?” He asks as he turns to her, and she blushes.

“Sort of hard to forget the British guy that told my dad to go sit somewhere else.” She smirks, and it makes him laugh. “Will you be in the operating room?”

“Yup, I’ll be there the whole time. I’m the hand holder.”

“The hand holder?”

“Mhm, while they’re helping you get to sleep I’ll be holding your hand, making sure you’re alright. I also get to put the IV in your arm.”

“Lucky you.” She deadpans and it makes him laugh again.

“What are you in school for?”

“Psychology. I’d like to be the type of doctor that doesn’t have to deal with all this.” She gestures around the room.

“Helping people on a whole other level, I see.” He nods.

The doctor comes over, and she must have gotten asked about four more times if she had eaten breakfast. She gets settled in the chair in the new room where she’d be operated on. She watches as Harry gets the IV in her arm, and then he holds her hand, just like he said he was. He was wearing a mask now, but she could tell he was smiling.

“Don’t worry, Abby, the next time you wake up these nasty teeth will be gone.”

She nods at him and squeezes his hand as they get the oxygen hooked up to her nose. His thumb rubs the back of her hand as a nurse puts the mask over her mouth, and her eyes slowly start to droop. The last image she has is Harry’s hand in hers.

When Abby wakes up, her eyes immediately well up with tears as she looks around the room. She sees her dad sitting in a chair reading a magazine, and she sees the IV still hooked up to her arm. She makes a whining noise and her dad looks over at her.

“Hey, you’re awake.” He smiles. “Everything went really well, honey. You did great.”

After about ten minutes a nurse comes in and takes the IV out. In her daze she tried looking for Harry, but she couldn’t find him. She was so delirious she could barely walk, and her dad had to help her to the car. She just wanted to say thank you to Harry for holding her hand, but she never got the chance.

//

Several years later, Abby had finished her master’s degree in counseling, and just finished up her licensure program. She already had a few different job opportunities lined up. The one she wanted most was at a local university at a counseling center. Being a student in today’s age was tough, and Abby wanted to be someone they could open up to. She had done extremely well in her postgraduate internship, so she had impeccable recommendations. She just needed to narrow things down to what school she wanted to work for, and that ultimately came down to benefits. She ended up going with UMASS Boston. It was a school a lot of her friends attended, so she sort of knew the campus, it was easy enough to get to by train, and the benefits were great.

After getting the first semester under her belt, Abby was feeling confident in what she was doing. She was truly helping students. She’d even be able to go for her PhD for free after she had six months under her belt. With winter break underway, Abby was getting caught up on some self-care, which meant going in for her annual cleaning.

“Hello, this is MidCity General Denstistry, may I please speak with Abigail Simmons?”

“This is she.”

“Hi, Abigail, this is a call to remind you of your appointment this week.”

“Right, Wednesday at 3PM?”

“Correct, and I have to inform you that your usual dentist, Dr. Morgan, has recently retired.”

“Oh…I mean good for her, I just liked her a lot.” Abby chuckles.

“Don’t worry, our new doctor, Dr. Styles, is amazing and everyone’s really like him so far. He’s taking over all of Dr. Morgan’s patients.”

“Okay, that should be fine. See you Wednesday!” Abby hangs up the phone and puts an extra reminder on her phone so she wouldn’t forget.

On Wednesday, she checked in and was brought into the back by a nurse, Marie. She was the dental assistant that would be doing her cleaning, nothing out of the ordinary. Although, Abby was starting to get aggravated because Marie kept sticking the pick into the same tooth in the back of her mouth. She hears Marie sigh.

“Abby, it seems like you may have a cavity. Dr. Styles will be able to confirm it. Let me polish you up, and then I’ll go get him.”

Before Abby has a chance to respond, Marie was already polishing her teeth. She was left to lay back in the chair while Marie went to get Dr. Styles.

“Hello, Miss Simmons.” Abby’s eyes widen when she hears his voice. He sits on a stool and wheels over next to her. “I’m Dr. Styles, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand to her and she takes it. “Mind if I take a quick peak at everything else before I inspect this possible cavity?”

“N-no, go ahead.”

“Thank you, open wide for me.”

She does so, and he sticks his gloved fingers into her mouth, feeling around her gums, and making sure everything’s alright. Next he grabs the tools and does a quick inspection of her overall mouth before poking at the tooth that Marie said was the problem. Abby notices how he hum along to the music playing on the radio. It was almost soothing.

“Okay, I’m gonna hit the button so you can sit up.” He says to her. Marie moves the light, and Abby takes the sunglasses she was given off. Her eyes widen again when she gets a good look at him.

Abby had come into contact with a lot of people in her life since the time she was twenty. It would be odd to remember someone that helped with her oral surgery, but too much was adding up. A man with a British accent, the same green eyes, and he was in the dental profession. She was finally going to get a chance to thank him.

“You have a cavity.” He sighs.

“I’ve never had one in my life.” She shakes her head.

“Happens to the best of us.” Dr. Styles chuckles. “Are you eating a lot of sweets?”

“Um, well, I’m a counselor at UMASS Boston, and I tend to suck on jolly ranchers when I’m meeting with students. Helps remind me to just sit and listen and not interrupt.”

“Ah, that’s a pretty good trick. Maybe try sugar free gum?”

“No, gum gives me a headache.” She shakes her head. “I prefer to suck than to chew.”

“Right.” He swallows. “Maybe try sucking on some mints then?”

“Sure, I can try that.” She smiles at him.

“Good girl.” He smiles back at her. That just sealed the deal it was definitely him. “Marie here will help you set up an appointment so I can take care of this for you.”

“You’ll be doing the procedure?”

“Mhm, you’re stuck with me now…unless you want to switch to another doctor, which I hope you don’t. Hope you’re not missing Dr. Morgan too much.”

“Not as much as I thought, that’s for sure. Um…this may be a weird question, but did you happen to be a student at Tufts Medical Center?”

“I was! It’s where I went after I got my bachelor’s. I can perform oral surgery, but I much prefer doing stuff like this. Can fill a cavity in my sleep. How did you know I went there?”

“I…this is going to sound so weird, but, like, six years ago you…held my hand when I got my wisdom teeth out.” Harry’s eyes widen at that. “Normally I wouldn’t remember someone so well, but…it’s not every day I have a British doctor.”

“Oh, wow, you remember me doing that?”

“Yeah, and we left before I ever got a chance to say thank you for keeping me so calm. So…thanks.” She blushes.

“I wish…I wish I remembered that. They often had me as the hand holder. How nice for our paths to cross again, huh? Promise to be just as good a dentist as I was at holding your hand.”

“That’s all I could hope for.” She smirks, and it makes him chuckle. “Right, well, Marie, please help Miss Simmons set up her appointment with me so we can get this cavity filled.”

“Sure thing, Dr. Styles.” Marie says as she makes a few clicks on the computer.

Just like that he was gone. He had grown into quite the handsome man since she last saw him. Not that he wasn’t before, but he looked more adult now. She wondered how much older he was than her. More importantly, she wondered if he was single.

//

It was about a week later when Abby came in to have her cavity taken care of. Marie was the dental assistant again which brought Abby some comfort. Marie gets her prepped in the chair as they wait for Harry to come into the private room.

“Alright, good morning, Miss Simmons.” He says brightly.

“You can just call me Abby if you want…” She says shyly.

“Okay, Abby, it is. Let’s fill this cavity, yeah?” He sits on the stool and wheels over to her. “Gotta give you a spot of nova cane, but before I do that we have to numb the area a bit, so this little thing that looks like a lollypop is gonna go in.” Abby nods. “Open up for me.” She does so. “Good girl, thank you.” He places the numbing stick inside her mouth and she scrunches her face. “I know, it doesn’t taste very good, sorry.” He stands back up. “I’ll be back in about five minutes.”  

True to his word, Harry comes back five minutes later, and takes the numbing stick out of Abby’s mouth. Next he has her open up so he can administer the nova cane. He tells her she might feel a slight pinch, and she accidentally grabs onto his thigh.

“S-sorry.” Abby says as she takes her hand off him. “I may not be afraid of the dentist, but I really don’t like needles.”

Harry and Marie share a glance, and then Harry looks at Abby.

“Marie, would you mind handling the nova cane so I can hold Abby’s hand?”

“Sure thing, Dr. Styles.”

Harry hands the needle to Marie, and then Harry grabs onto Abby’s hand. He smiles softly at her, and she’s able to focus on him and not the needle going into her gums. Marie says it’s all set, so Harry gets back into position with the drill.

“If it hurts, just let me know and we can numb you a bit more.” Harry says to her. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

Abby pinches her eyes closed the second the drill comes into contact with her tooth. Thank god Harry was wearing a mask because he couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked. Luckily, Abby didn’t suffer too much. The procedure didn’t take too long, and she was sitting upright before she knew it.

“You did great.” Harry smiles at her. “So, that side of your mouth will be numb for a bit. Give it a few hours before you eat anything, avoid hot foods.” Abby just nods her head along, too embarrassed to speak because she knew she would sound stupid. “Have you made your appointment for your next cleaning?” She nods again. “Great, Marie, I’m just gonna go over another few things with Abby, feel free to go on your break.”

“Oh, alright. See you in six months, Abby.” Marie smiles, and leaves the room as Abby waves to her.

“I actually already went over everything with you. I…uh…just wanted her to step out.” Abby’s eyes widen at that. “I was actually wondering, um, if you’d like to go out for coffee sometime…you know, when you can have hot liquids again.” He blushes and so does she. She nods yes at him quickly. “You do? Great, um, can I have your number then?” Abby frantically reaches for the phone in her pocket, unlocks it, and then hands it to Harry so he can add his contact. “I’ll call you in a couple of days so we can set something up, yeah?”

She smiles and nods as she takes her phone back. Her heart was fluttering. She felt like she was in a dream or something. Coffee couldn’t come soon enough.

//

Harry called Abby a couple of days later, just like he said he would, and they agreed upon what coffee shop they should meet up at on Saturday. Her mouth was feeling much better, and she was really excited to see him. She was still in shock that he asked her out in the first place. She thought she’d have to wait another six months to see him again.

He got to the coffee shop first, and decided to wait outside for her. He smiles when he sees her and they step inside.

“It’s on me.” He says. “Get whatever you like.”

“Oh! That’s so nice of you.” Abby blushes. “Thanks.” They each order and grab a table to sit at. It was too cold outside to go for a walk.

“I just want to preface by saying I’ve never asked out a patient before.” Harry says to her.

“So…why ask me out then?”

“I just found it really endearing that you remembered me, and all you wanted to do was say thank you to me for doing something so simple.”

“Harry, I had just turned twenty, I was practically still a kid. I had never gone under or had a surgery before, I was petrified. My dad was just as nervous, you were the only thing that calmed me down.”

“So, that would make you roughly twenty-six now?”

“Yes it would.” She smiles as she takes a sip of her coffee. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty-two next month.” It was an age difference both of them might have been against those years ago, but not now. They were both well into adulthood, had their careers, and had some life experience under their belts. “It’s killing me that I don’t remember you.”

“It’s really okay. You’ve probably seen so many patients. I’m sure years down the line I won’t remember every student I’ve met with.”

“Right, you said you’re a counselor at…?”

“UMASS Boston.”

“And how do you like doing that?”

“I love it, honestly. I feel so bad for these kids, they have so much on their plates, under all this pressure. It’s really brave of them to come ask for help, so I like giving them a safe space. Some meetings are more serious than others, so it’s never boring. I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.”

“That’s amazing. Feel like I do better talking to people in small spurts, that’s what’s so great about being a dentist. People can’t strike up small talk when you’ve got your fingers in their mouth.” He laughs and so does Abby.

“How long have you been at MidCity for?”

“Like…six months, I think. I like it a lot, everyone’s really nice. Marie’s my favorite assistant, though, sometimes her kids come in and they’re really cute, and her wife bakes the best brownies.”

“She’s usually the one to do my cleanings, I like her a lot too.”

“Can I ask why you chose jolly ranchers to suck on? I mean, how many students are you meeting with? You must go through a ton.”

“I do.” She blushes in embarrassment. “I got them when they were on sale after Halloween…I’m definitely going to try the mints like you said.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He smiles as he takes a bite of his bagel.

“So, how does a doctor such as yourself not already have a girlfriend?”

“Getting right to it, huh?” He smirks and she nods. “Medical school takes up a lot of time, and then when I first started as an intern, I was constantly overworked. I was doing surgeries left and right, I was too exhausted to try and make anything serious work. Then I decided I’d rather be working at a practice. I still do a lot of teeth pulling, but not as much as I was. And now that things have slowed down a bit, I just haven’t met someone I’ve wanted to be serious with.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

“Same thing, sort of.” She giggles. “Grad school was a lot, and then interning was a lot. Now I’m just really settling into my job. I survived the first semester, now I feel like a pro.”

“That’s a good feeling to have. Is your commute long?”

“Not really, I just take the green line to the red and I’m there. Obviously the trains can be unpredictable, but it beats having to pay for a car and car insurance. What about you? Are you in the city, or out in the suburbs.”

“Oh, I’m in the city. I drive to work, though, I’ve got my own parking spot at the back of the building.”

“Well, we can’t all be so special.” She smirks.

“No, I suppose not.” He smirks back at her. “How’s your tooth feel, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s fine, thanks. You’re really good at your job. It was nice of you to hold my hand when Marie did the nova cane.”

“I felt so bad that you were scared.” He reaches across the table and places his hand over hers. “When you grabbed onto me I knew I had to do something.”

“God that was embarrassing. I would have felt so violated if someone did that to me.”

“It’s not like you grabbed my dick, Abby, it’s alright.” He gives her hand a squeeze.

“Right.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “So, do you work a standard Monday through Friday at MidCity, or how does all of that work?”

“Yup, pretty much.” He takes his hand away from hers. “I mean obviously if there’s an emergency we have to cancel appointments, but for the most part we leave spots open for surgeries so people are able to book those easy enough. I usually pop by the cleanings in between cavity fillings and other stuff.”

“What made you want to become a dentist?”

“Well, I knew I wanted to work in the medical field, but selfishly I didn’t want the long hours at hospitals. I don’t have to be on call, like, I don’t have to worry about emergencies in the middle of the night. Not often, anyways.”

“I feel like I would get grossed out looking at teeth all day.” Abby chuckles.

“It’s not as bad as you think. I try to separate the teeth from the person. Like, I was able to give all new teeth to this recovering meth addict. She had this incredible story, and I knew I had to help. She had been sober for five years, but no one would hire her because of her teeth. Now she’s working a corporate job doing great.”

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing.”

“You must have some great stories with your students.”

“Yeah, I’ve really bonded with a few of them. Sometimes they just need someone on their side, you know? A lot of them are first in their family to go to school, so they’re doing a lot on their own.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, it’s good they have a nice person like you to help them.” Harry smiles warmly at her and she smiles back. “Would you, um, would you be interested in going out for dinner some time?”

“I…yeah, I’d love to.” She blinks a couple of times. “I’m free most nights right now because we’re on winter break.”

“You don’t have to go into your office at all?”

“I just answer emails from home.” Abby shrugs.

“Sweet deal.” Harry grins. “So, how would Thursday night work for you?”

“Thursday works great.” She smiles.

They both throw out all of their trash and step out of the coffee shop. They share a gentle hug, and go their separate ways. Harry said he’d call in a couple of days to let her know where he’d be taking her, and she was beyond excited.

//

Friday night, Harry picked Abby up in front of her building. When he saw her, he got out of the car to open the door for her and she giggled.

“That’s a nice coat.” He says to her.

“Thanks, I got it on sale at L.L. Bean back in August. Keeps me nice and warm.”

“Oh, I love shopping there! Once in a while I’ll take the drive up to New Hampshire to go to the actual store to get the really good stuff. The boots I got from there for the winter will last a life time.”

“Yeah, it’s just good quality stuff. I usually get a decent coupon in the mail or online.” She chews her bottom lip. Clearly Harry had a little more money than she did. “Where are we eating?”

“You’ll love it, it’s this nice Italian place at the North End. I remember you said Italian was something you liked when we spoke on the phone.”

Abby smiles at him and he looks at her briefly to smile back. He finds a place to park, somehow, and they walk towards the restaurants. She hadn’t been to the North End in a while since most of the places were expensive. Harry puts his hand on the small of her back as they walk in, and he tells the hostess he has a reservation. She leads them over to a table for two and he pulls out the chair for her.

“So, how’s your week been?” Abby asks him.

“Pretty good, fit this one person with a new tooth, did a couple of crowns. Same old, same old.” He shrugs. “How about you?”

“Good, I did some virtual sessions with some students who are having shitty winter breaks. I went into the office for a team retreat, and then I updated some spread sheets.” She chuckles.

“That’s nice of you to do virtual appointments.”

“It’s all part of the job.”

“Good evening, folks.” A waiter comes over with water and a basket of rolls. “I’m Parker, can I start you off with any drinks or appetizers?”

“Abby, would you care to get a bottle of white for the table?” Harry asks her.

“Oh, sure, that’s be great. Would Pinot Grigio be alright?”

“It’s perfect. A bottle of Piniot Grigio, please.” He looks down at the menu and furrows his brows at the appetizers. “Calamari?” He asks her and she nods. “Calamari, Parker.”

“Sounds great, I’ll be back in a moment with the wine and to take your dinner orders.”

“The calamari here is excellent, it’s lightly fried in peanut oil so it doesn’t feel heavy.”

“What do you recommend for an entrée?”

“Everything’s good. What are you in the mood for?”

Abby looks down at the menu and her eyebrows raise at the prices.

“Maybe just one of these pasta dishes.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t get the cheapest thing on the menu. Get whatever you like, it’s my treat.”

“Harry, this is gonna be really expensive.”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I couldn’t afford it, please don’t worry about it.”

“O-okay, then…maybe the steak tips with the pan seared peppers.”

“If that’s what you want then you should have it.” Harry smiles. Parker comes over with the bottle of wine, and pours the first two glasses for them. “I’m really glad we could do this tonight.” He grins. “I…found something when I was going through some old things the other day.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow as she sips on her drink.

“It was killing me that I couldn’t remember you, but then it hit me.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a card. “I’ve never been so thankful to be a packrat in my life.” He opens it and smiles. “Dear Harry, I never got a chance to say thank you when you held my hand before my surgery. I figured I’d drop this off when I came in to have my stitches removed. I hope this finds its way to you. You’re going to be a great doctor someday. Sincerely, Abby Simmons.” He smiles at her as he places the card back in his back pocket.

“You…you kept that?”

“It wasn’t often I got cards like that, so I kept it, and once in a while when I needed a pick me up I’d read it. As soon as I re-read it the other day I completely remembered you. I even remembered telling your dad to go sit in the other waiting room.”

“Oh my god.” Abby chuckles. “That was the greatest thing I had ever seen. Think that solidified the crush I had on you.”

“Telling your dad to basically leave you alone?”

“Yeah.” She smirks. “Super hot to see you be so sure of yourself and confident. Plus, he was really pissing me off, talking over me and answering for me.”

“Wow, so I guess I’m the one that away, huh?” He smirks.

“You certainly were. Although, I hadn’t thought about you in quite some time. It’s crazy that you ended up becoming my dentist.”

“Very crazy.” Parker comes over with the calamari and tells the two he’s going to put their orders in now. Harry watches as she sticks her fork into a piece and takes a bite. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She smiles. “This is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

The rest of the date goes really well. Abby and Harry continued to joke around and flirt. It wasn’t until the check came that she felt a little uncomfortable.

“How much is it?” She asks him nervously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirks and slides his card into the slot, letting Parker take it. “Would you like to walk around for a bit, maybe get some dessert by the water?”

“That sounds great, but only if I can pay for dessert.”

“Deal.” He smiles.

Harry holds Abby’s hand as they walk through the little park by the water. Even though it was cold out, it was still a beautiful night. They duck into a gelato place for a little dessert. They decide to split something, which ends up being insanely romantic when Harry lifts his spoon to her lips. She makes a show of it as she takes a bite, licking her lips after and everything. He holds her hand during the drive, and lets her pick the radio station. He gets out and walks her up to the door once they get to her building.

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.” She says to him.

“Me too.” He steps closer to her. “Do you see a third date in our future?”

“Definitely.” She nods. “Do you like bowling?”

“Love bowling. Are you, um, free Saturday night?”

“I can be.” She smiles. “Pick me up around seven?”

“It’s a date.” He smiles. The two stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure if they should kiss or not, so instead Harry opens his arms for hug, and she wraps her arms around his neck. She kisses his cheek, and then he kisses hers. “I’ll see you Saturday, Abby.”

“See you Saturday, Harry.”

//

Harry was on cloud nine the next day at work. He couldn’t stop thinking about Abby, her smile, her laugh, the little beauty mark she has under right eye. He thought she was gorgeous, charming, and kind. Normally he’d never get involved with a patient, but he couldn’t help it with her. He thought it was so sweet that she remembered him after all this time, and he felt so relieved that he remembered her.

“You’ve had this dreamy look on your face all week, what’s with you?” Marie asks Harry while they’re eating lunch.

“I…sort of met someone, and we’ve been out a couple times…she’s great.”

“That’s great! Anyone I know?”

“Um…well, you know Abigail Simmons…”

“Of course I know Abby! Oh my god, is that why you asked me to step out of the room when you filled her cavity?!”

“I didn’t wanna ask her out in front of you.”

“Harry, since when do you date patients?” She whispers.

“Normally I wouldn’t, but it turns out I met her a long time ago. When I was a student at Tufts I assisted in removing her wisdom teeth.”

“Oh, wow, that’s incredible.” Marie blinks. “When are you seeing her again?”

“Tomorrow night. We’re going bowling, how fun is that?”

“Should be really fun.” Marie grins. “Look at you, putting yourself out there. Now Leigh and I can stop trying to set you up.”

“I’m excited about her. She’s got such a cool job too. I can’t wait to keep getting to know her.”

//

Since they were going bowling, they could easily just take the train, so Harry takes a cab to Abby’s building Saturday evening. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans and a sweater under his jacket. She comes down the stairs in her long coat, and a Patriots hat on top of her head.

“Hey.” He smiles at her, taking her in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Good.” She smiles up at him. “How are you?”

“Good, great, actually.” He takes her hand and they walk towards the nearest t-stop. They both swipe their Charlie Cards and hop onto the next train.  

“I hope you’re okay with candle pins…I’m not good with the big balls.” Abby says to him as they hang onto the same pole of the crowded train.

“I love candle pinning.” He chuckles. “No worries.”

They get to the bowling alley, are given a lane, and get their shoes. Abby takes her hat off and fixes her hair, and then unzips her jacket. She had a pair of jeans on with a red turtleneck. Abby was a short, curvy thing, and Harry absolutely loved it. When Abby first met Harry back when she was twenty, she was a tiny size two, but now she was a comfortable size eight and was fully embracing it. She was healthy, and that was all that mattered.

“Do you want anything to drink? I could get us a pitcher of beer.” Harry says to her as they settle into their lane. “I could get us some pizza too.”

“That sounds great, thanks.” She smiles as she slips her shoes on.

“Be back in a tick.” Harry goes over to the snack bar and gets two slices of pizza and a pitcher of beer. “Here we are.” Harry fills two of the plastic cups up with the beer, and hands one to Abby. “Shall we?”

“Mhm, I already set up the score sheets.” She shows him the large sheet of paper. “Not that I care that much about the score…it’s just fun to keep track.”

Abby bowls first, knocking most of the pins down, and then gets the rest on her second throw. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he watched her to do a little jog and hop as she threw the ball down the lane. He goes up next and immediately gets a strike.

“Woohoo! Go, Harry!” Abby says as she takes a sip of her beer. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a strike before.”

“I could show you how if you want.”

“Isn’t it just luck?”

“Nope, it’s all physics.”

“And…you’re good with physics?”

“Had to take it during pre-med, I even tutored for it. Come on, I’ll show you.” Abby gets up and grabs one of the balls. Harry goes behind her, and puts his hand on one of her shoulders, moving her hair so he can speak closer to her ear. “Okay, so what you’re gonna want to do is walk a little closer to the line, swing the ball back, and let it fly.”

Abby turns slightly to look up at him. Her cheeks were flushed. She nods at him, and does exactly what he said to do, and she gets the strike.

“Oh my god!” She squeals and throws her arms around him. “I can’t believe that worked! You’re amazing!” She kisses his cheek.

“You did great! Nice to know you’re good at following directions.” He winks at her and grabs his next ball.

After three rounds of bowling, and two pitchers of beer, they both head out. They take the train back to the stop nearest to Abby’s apartment, and Harry walks her home.

“I had so much fun tonight, Harry.”

“Me too, I’m glad you suggested bowling.” They both stop in front of her steps. “Can I see you again next weekend?”

“I’d like that.”

“Maybe if it’s not too cold we could go ice skating at Frog Pond.”

“Oh, I’d love to do that! I have my own skates and everything.”

“Perfect.” He smiles and steps closer to her. She looks up at him with her big brown eyes. He didn’t think brown eyes as beautiful as hers existed. “Abby, can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

“Yes.” She nods and smiles up at him.

He cups her cheek and leans down to her. His lips press to hers, and he uses is other hand to cup her other cheek. It’s soft and gentle at first, it grows a little needier as she presses her body to his, but she stops him from walking up the stairs. She pulls away first and blushes.

“Um, well, goodnight.” She says to him.

“Yeah, goodnight.” He rubs the back of his neck. He was sorting of hoping she’d invite him up. It was the third date, after all. Maybe she was a fifth date kind of girl, which he had to respect. “I’ll call you at some point during the week. I’ve got a few different surgeries, though, so if you don’t hear from me a lot that’s why.”

“No worries.” She shrugs. “I’m getting ready for the students to return, and I have some meetings to go to, some seminars, so I’ll be busy myself. Wanna just plan for next Saturday?”

“Sounds good to me.” He leans again to kiss her again, and she happily kisses him back.

“Okay, goodnight for real.” She giggles and walks up her steps. She waves goodbye as she goes into her building and he sighs.

Abby sighs happily as she gets into her apartment and squeals. She immediately texts her best friend everything about her date with Harry. She was so excited about him, and couldn’t believe he was actually interested in her.

//

They texted here and there during the week. Abby got a little brave and sent him a mirror selfie of her dressed up for work, and he sent one back of himself in his scrubs ready to go in for surgery. Her jaw nearly dropped when she saw him. She had seen him in scrubs before, but it was ages ago. He filled them out so differently now. Plus, the thought of him being a doctor just did things to her insides that she couldn’t even describe. He thought she looked gorgeous in her pin striped slacks and blouse. He couldn’t but think about how lucky each student was that got to sit and talk with her.

Harry was exhausted by the end of the week. He must have extracted over a dozen teeth, filled a stupid amount of cavities, and put on ten different crowns. He couldn’t wait to see Abby Saturday. He asked her to go to the pond a little earlier in the evening so they could get dinner afterwards. The decided to just meet at the pond. She was easy enough to spot now that he knew what her long coat and Patriots hat looked like.

“Harry.” She smiles when she turns to see him. They hug and share a quick peck on the lips. “Did you catch up on some sleep?”

“I did.” He sighs as they find a bench to sit down on to put on their skates. “Been looking forward to seeing you all week. How’d your seminar go?”

“Oh, it was great! It ended up being more of a training, I have a new certification too.”

“That’s amazing, good for you. I’m constantly going to lectures and stuff to stay up to date. I’ve published a couple of things too to some medical journals.”

“That’s so cool! Once I’ve been at UMASS for six months I can start taking classes for free. I’m gonns go for my doctorate, so hopefully I can start publishing some work too.” They both stand up and make their way into the rink. Abby puts her hand out for Harry’s and he takes it as they start to glide on the ice.

“That’s great that they have a program like that for you.”

“I know! I was super happy when I saw that in the benefits package.”

They skate around the rink a few times, enjoying the music that was playing. Harry guides them over to the side for a little break. He presses her against it, his hands going onto the railing, caging her in. She looks up at him, and he leans in to kiss her. She tugs on his coat to pull him closer, and the kiss deepens slightly. Abby really liked kissing Harry. He always tasted like mint, probably because he was constantly chewing gum, and his lips were insanely soft. She starts smiling and so does he, and he presses his forehead to hers.

“Do you feel like going to eat now?” He says to her.

“Yeah.” She nods.

They end up going to a Mexican restaurant not too far from the pond. They each get margaritas and laugh a lot. Harry talks about what it’s like to extract teeth during a surgery, and Abby asks if people ever want to see their teeth afterwards. He asks Abby how she copes when she has to deal with a heavier situation at work, and she says her little Shih Tzu, Marvin, helps make her day a lot better.

“That’s nice your apartment allows pets.” He says to her.

“Yeah, he’s only, like, nine pounds, if that. He’s so cute, do you wanna see a picture?”

“Of course!” Abby pulls out her phone to show Harry a few pictures of Marvin, and even a selfie she took with him. “He’s so cute, and so are you.”

“Thanks.” She giggles.

“He looks like a little stuffed animal.”

“He really does.”

“Why a Shih Tzu?”

“They’re really smart. They’re tough to train because they’re so stubborn, but once they get a little older they start to listen, and they’re pretty self-sufficient alone during the day. Although, sometimes I sneak him into the office.”

“How old is he?”

“About two. Do you have any pets?”

“Nah, I’m not home enough to take care of anything else. But I love dogs, I think they’re great.”

“Well, maybe at some point you can meet little Marv.”

“I’d like that.”

They square up the tab and Harry walks Abby home once again. They kiss for a while outside her front door. He desperately wanted to feel her tongue on his, but she wouldn’t open her mouth up. His hands squeeze at her hips, and she tugs on his jacket like she had done earlier.

“Well, I better get up inside.” She says against his lips and he hums his response as he continues to kiss her. She giggles into him. “Harry.” She smiles and steps back from him.

“Sorry, I just really like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you too.”

“When can I see you again?”

She takes her phone out to check her calendar.

“Are you free on Friday?” She asks as she furrows her brows at her screen.

“I think so. We could go to dinner, if you like. There’s this really great Chinese place in China Town that I love going to if you’re interested.”

“That sounds great, Harry.” She smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Maybe…um, maybe we could meet up for lunch, or something at some point during the week.”

“Do you have time for something like that?”

“I’m sure I do. I can look at my calendar and let you know which day works best.”

“Okay.” She nods. “I’d love to meet up for lunch.”

“Great.” He leans in to kiss her again. “Hope you and Marvin have a good night.”

“Oh, we will. He’s probably antsy for me to get up there and give him all the cuddles I can. Text me when you know which day works for lunch.” She smiles and heads inside.

Harry couldn’t believe a little dog was going to be getting all of her cuddles tonight and not him. She was slowly killing him. He respected that she might want to take things slow, but to still not invite him up? He sighs and orders an uber back to his condo, hoping he’ll be able to fall asleep easily, and not stay up thinking about the girl who was slowly creeping her way into his heart.

//

Abby was able to meet up with Harry on Tuesday, but only for a quick walk, which she thought would be a great opportunity for Harry to meet Marvin. She gets his sweater and harness on, leashes him up, and out the door she goes. Harry was standing outside her building, in his scrubs, and a jacket, with two hot chocolates.

“Thank you.” She smiles and takes the warm drink from him. “Harry, this is Marvin.”

“Aw.” He pouts, and squats down to put his hand in front of Marvin’s nose before he pets him. “Nice to meet you little guy.” He looks up at Abby. “He’s even cuter in person.”

“Right? I’m really excited we could get out for a little bit today. He loves when I can take him for a good walk.” Harry stands back up straight and they all start walking. “Were you in surgery today?”

“Yeah, early this morning, and I’ve got another one later this afternoon. Didn’t make much sense for me to put my other clothes back on.”

“You look cute in your scrubs.” Abby says, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

Harry nudges her and he looks down at Marvin.

“He’s pretty quiet, huh?”

“He was yappy when I first got him, but he’s calmed down a lot. First summer I had him I spent a lot of time training him. Pretty much taught him not to bark unless someone’s trying to break in.”

“You must be good with discipline then.”

“I try to be. Although, I’m more of a fan of positive reinforcement.” They pull to the side as Marvin takes a tinkle near a fire hydrant. “Good boy, Marvin.” She says and gives him a kibble as a treat. “Kibbles are great treats. Can’t get fat off what he normally eats.”

“That’s really smart. Have you, uh, been laying off the jolly ranchers?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Styles, I didn’t realize we were in your office.”

“Abby…”

“I’ve been trying to, but I have a horrible sweet tooth. They’re the only candy I really eat. What’s the harm?”

“Your teeth rotting out?”

“Okay, good point. I mean, I haven’t had nearly as many since I’m not really meeting with students right now, and I’ve already gone out and bought a ton of mints for the next semester.”

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.”

“What do you say to your male patients?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s just…you say good girl a lot…do you do that with all your female patients, and if so…what do you say to your male patients? Also, I’m an adult woman. Do you say good girl to all adult women?”

“Abby.” Harry chuckles. “I think I’ve only ever said that to you.”

“Oh, fuck off, I bet you say it all the time.”

���I really don’t.”

“Then why me?”

“You’re cute, and I tend to be a flirt sometimes.”

“You consider calling me a good girl flirting?” She stops short and he turns to look at her.

“I do.” He nods, a smirk growing on his lips. “Do you want me to stop saying it to you?”

“N-no.”

“Alright then.” He grins and they continue walking until they get to Marvin’s turn around spot, and make their way back to Abby’s building. “I’m glad we got to meet up for a bit. Still on for Friday night?”

“Definitely.” She goes up on her tip toes to kiss him goodbye and inside she goes. Harry left her with butterflies in her stomach.

//

Harry was really hoping tonight would be the night something more happens between him and Abby. He just wanted to feel her body on his. He drives to her place around seven Friday night, and he waits outside the car for her.

“Hello, beautiful.” He says to her as she steps outside.

“Hey.” She smiles and kisses him. He opens the door for her and he jogs around the other side to get back in. He takes her hand in his as she drives towards China Town. “How was your day?”

“Good, really busy, but good. I tend to get a lot of kids on Fridays since it’s an easy day for them to miss school.”

“I bet the little kids love you.”

“They do, I like being goofy with them.” They get to the restaurant, and are seated. “Do you want to share a few things?”

“Sure, that sounds good.” She smiles. “I hardly ever come out here, how’d you find this place?”

“When I was at Tufts I used to come to China Town all the time since it’s close by. I got sick of eating at all of the same places, so I decided to come around here and branch out. This is obviously nicer, but I like it a lot.” They decide which dishes they want to share, and tell the waitress when she comes over. They both also order a couple of drinks. “The semester’s starting soon, right?”

“Yeah, on Monday, actually.”

“Oh, wow! Do you feel ready?”

“For the most part.” She nods. “The first week is usually quiet, and then I start to get booked out. That’s how it was last semester, anyways. I already have some of my regulars from last semester on my calendar for next week.”

“I bet they’re excited to see you, I know I would be.” He places his hand over hers and gives it a squeeze. “Abby, um, after dinner…I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place for a bit.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to offer, but I don’t want to leave Marvin for that long.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Another time, though.” She smiles and he nods at that.

A food runner brings their dishes over, and luckily nothing feels awkward, but Harry was sort of hoping that she’d offer to have him over after dinner instead. They both enjoy the food, and share a few laughs before heading back to Harry’s car. When he pulls up to her place they both linger for a moment.

“Thanks again for dinner, Harry, I had a great time.”

“Me too.” He looks at her. “Can I ask you something?” She nods yes at him. “Are you, uh, seeing anyone else? It’s okay if you are, we never said this was exclusive, I guess I’d just like to know.”

“No, I’m not seeing anyone else. I would have told you if I was dating around. Are you seeing anyone else?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She smiles. “Good to know.” She leans across the console to kiss him, and he kisses her back. He turns his body more so he can cup her jaw. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“I…I don’t think so, I mean, just usual weekend errand type stuff. Might be grabbing drinks with some friends in the evening, why?”

“I was just thinking maybe, um, you could come over for dinner, but if you’re busy-“

“I can cancel. I can get drinks with them any time.”

“Don’t be silly.” She smiles. “We can do it another night. We’ll figure it out. I better get upstairs.” She pecks his lips. “Goodnight.” She gets out of the car, leaving him speechless. He wanted to rip his hair out at this point.

//

“Harry, how things going with that girl you’ve been seeing?” Greg asks him as they sit in a booth at the bar.

“Yeah, you still like her?” Lenny asks.

“Things are going well.” He nods. “But I can’t seem to figure her out. We’ve been out, like, six times and she still hasn’t invited me up to her place. I invited her back to mind last night, and she said she didn’t want to leave her dog alone for long.”

“Have you kissed?” Greg asks.

“Yeah, we’ve kissed plenty of times. We just haven’t done anything else. I mean, we don’t need to jump right into bed, but it’d be nice to do a little more.”

“I get what you’re saying, man.” Lenny says. “Maybe she’s just nervous.”

“I didn’t think I was giving her a reason to be.” Harry sighs. “She invited me over tonight, but I stupidly told her I had plans with you lot.”

“What are you doing with us then?! Go pick up some dessert, and go get your girl!” Greg says.

“I can’t just show up at her place…I’ll look like a stalker. What if she’s not even home?”

“So text her.” Lenny shrugs. “See if she’s around and ask if you can stop by. Tell her you’re at bar in the neighborhood.”

“But I’m not. She’ll know I’m lying.”

“Dude, just text her and see if she’s around.” Greg says.

Harry takes out his phone and types out a text. He hesitates before hitting send.

Harry: Hey, Abby! Are you home? I’m finishing up with my friends a bit earlier than I thought…maybe I could bring some dessert over?

Abby: Hey! Yeah, I’m home, snuggled up with Marv. I’d love it if you came by, especially if there’s dessert involved lol

Harry: Great! I can be by in about 30 minutes

Abby: sounds good! See you soon

“Alright, I’m gonna go up to the bar and get a lava cake to go. Thanks for being so cool about this guys.”

“No worries, H.” Lenny says. “Good luck.”

Harry races to Abby’s once he’s gotten the cake, and she buzzes him in. He knocks on her door, and she opens it for him.

“Hey.” She smiles and steps aside. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” He pecks her cheek. “Hope you like chocolate lava cake.”

“Love it.” She takes it from him. “So…this is it. It’s just a studio.” She blushes. “But the kitchen is its own area, which is nice.”

“It’s great.” He smiles at her. “You’ve definitely utilized the space.”

There’s a large monitor mounted on the wall, a desk underneath it with Abby’s laptop, and an HDMI cord connecting both. There’s a small couch a few feet back, and then her bed is up against the opposite wall. Everything was neat and tidy.

“I use this wireless mouse as a remote, and I have a Fire Stick.” She says. Marvin comes trotting in from the kitchen. “Marv, you remember Harry. I’m just gonna stick this in the kitchen. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.” She walks into the kitchen as Harry sits down on the couch. Marvin jumps up to sit in his lap.

“Hey, little guy.” Harry pets his head and scratches behind his ears. Abby comes back out. She looks really cute tonight. She was wearing glasses, her hair tied to the side in a braid, leggings and an off the shoulder sweater. “Hope I’m not intruding on your cozy evening.”

“Not at all! I’m really glad you texted, actually. Did you have fun with your friends?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Are they dentists too?”

“Mhm, we lived together while we were in medical school. Lenny and Greg.”

“Where do they both work?”

“At other practices around the city. Greg’s actually an orthodontist. They’re both junior partners, though, I’m the first of the three of us to become a senior partner at a practice. Guess that was the one good thing about Dr. Morgan leaving MidCity.”

“You’re so successful.” She bites her bottom lip and looks down at Marvin in Harry’s lap. “Look at that, you’re here five minutes and he already liked you better than me.” She reaches and takes Marvin from Harry, snuggling him to her chest before putting him on the ground.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Oh, I don’t. They’re just blue light blockers.” She takes them off and sets them on the side table next to the couch. “They help a lot when I’m on the computer for a while.”

“Ah.” He nods.

“What’s your place like?”

“I’ve got a condo, uh, it’s a three bedroom, but I use one as a home office.”

“Wow, good for you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t always get to live so comfortably.”

“You’ve earned it, I bet you work really hard.” She smiles.

“I’m sure you work hard too.”

“True.” She nods. “But I’m paying off loans, and this is all I can really afford.”

“It’s a great place.” He assures her. “I wish the studio I had when I first started out was half as nice as this. I certainly didn’t keep things as neat as you.”

“Oh, I just rushed around to clean things up before you got here. It was a mess.” She laughs.

“I’m glad you were cool with me coming by.” He puts his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. “I’ve been having a great time with you this last month.”

“Me too.”

“My birthday’s next weekend, and…um, a ton of us are getting together at this pub…I’d love it if you could come.”

“Oh! Sure, would it be Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m there, I’d love to go. That’s so nice of you to invite me.” She leans in and kisses his cheek.

He looks at her, his eyes locking in on her lips. He leans in and presses his lips to hers. Her arms go around his neck to pull him closer, her fingers tangling with the curls on the nape of his neck. His arms wrap around her, hands splaying on her back to have her chest pressed to his. He lightly sucks on her bottom lip, and she opens up wider for him. He nearly groans as he licks into her, finally. She tugs on his hair as her tongue molds to his. One of his hands slides down her back and around to the front of her stomach. He just about reaches the band of her leggings when she grabs his hand, and moves it to her hip. He gives a squeeze and she whimpers into him. He plants kisses along her jaw to her earlobe, nibbling on it gently until he kisses on her neck. He mouths at her skin before sucking on her and she gasps.

“Don’t leave a mark.” She grunts, and she feels him nod against her skin. “H-Harry, is this the only reason you wanted to come see me tonight?” She blurts out and he stops to look at her.

“What? No.” He shakes his head. “I genuinely wanted to see you and split that cake. And…I mean…yeah, I’ve been wanting to do a little bit of this.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I like you a lot, Abby, I can’t help it.”

“I like you a lot too.” She gives him a soft smile. “We can keep kissing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” She nods and brings her hand to the back of his neck to pull him back to her. This time she nibbles on his bottom lip and his hands go to her hips, squeezing and kneading. “Mm, but I don’t wanna go any further than this…not yet anyways. I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course it is.”

“I just…sort of wanna see where this is going before something so serious happens between us.”

“I get it.” He smiles. “I know you’ll be worth the wait.”

//

Harry: hope the first day of the semester has been treating you well!

Abby couldn’t help but smile at her phone. She knew Harry was extremely busy at work, so the fact that he took a moment to text her meant so much. The only thing was he texted her during a staff meeting, and her colleague Maya noticed her goofy smile.

“Abby, how was your break?” Maya asks her after the meeting.

“It was good! Um, I sort of started seeing someone.”

“Shut up! That’s amazing, who is it, how’d you meet?”

“His name is Harry…he’s, um, my dentist.”

“Oh, my, a doctor?”

“Yeah.” Abby nods. “We actually met years ago when he was still a student, and he just so happened to take over for my other dentist who apparently retired. It’s been a little over a month. He’s super nice, and funny…and he’s really fucking handsome.” She says the last part quietly.

“Good for you. Do you have a picture of him?”

“There’s one on the practice’s website. I haven’t, like, taken a selfie with yet. Although, I wish I had when he took me ice skating.” She pulls up MidCity’s website on her phone and shows Maya.

“Holy shit! He is handsome.”

“It’s going really well too. He’s met Marvin, and he invited me to his birthday party this weekend.”

“Wow, so you’re gonna get to meet his friends already?”

“I guess so.” She smiles. “The only thing is…do I get him a gift? And if so, what do I get him? I feel like it should be casual because everything’s so new still, but if it’s too casual he might think I’m not as into him as I am.”

“Shit, yeah, that’s a tough one.” Maya steps further into Abby’s office. The girls were close, so they were used to talking about personal things. “Have you slept with him yet? You could wear something for him to unwrap.”

“No, we haven’t.” Abby sighs. “I’m trying to take things slow with him because I really like him. We’ve made out a couple of times…”

“So…is that a no?”

“I don’t know, birthday sex as a gift? I feel like that’s so…cliché or something? Plus, I feel like he’ll be expecting it. I want it to feel more special than that.” She bites her bottom lip in thought.

“Oh! Have you been out to eat with him much?”

“Yeah, a ton, why?”

“Did you notice him order any specific types of alcohol?”

“Yeah! On our first real date he had this really nice bottle of white wine ordered to our table. It was delicious, and he loved it. I remember what it was, I could just get a bottle of that and a card, right?”

“I think that’s a totally acceptable gift. It’s sentimental, so it shows you put some thought into it, but also casual enough to show you’re not a psycho.”

“Exactly.”

Abby: you’re so sweet! It’s been a little busy with meetings and stuff, but other than that no fires to put out. Thanks so much for thinking of me, I hope you’re having a good day too! 😘

//

Harry didn’t want Abby to walk into the pub by herself, so he said he’d pick her up on his way. She insisted he didn’t need to, but he insisted that he did. She had a black dress on with black tights and blue heels. She zips up her long coat and runs her fingers through her hair. Her phone buzzes with a text from Harry that he’s downstairs with the uber. She takes a deep breath, grabs her gift, and heads downstairs.

“Happy birthday.” She smiles and gives him a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, beautiful.” He opens the door for her and goes around to the other side. “Is that for me?” He points to the bag she’s settled into her lap.

“Maybe.” She shrugs a shoulder.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He places his hand on her thigh.

“I said maybe, so this could easily not be for you. I guess you’ll find out later.” She side eyes him and it makes him laugh.

“How was your first week back to campus?”

“Exhausting.” She sighs. “But I caught up on sleep this morning. Everyone was excited to see Marvin.” She chuckles. “And it was good to see my friends and students.”

“That’s good.” Harry smiles.

“What about you? How was your week?”

“Busy. I had four different surgeries, a ton of cavities, and a fuck ton of cleaning check ins. I think a lot of college kids were getting in their bi-annual visits before going back to school.”

“Ohhh, yup, I bet that’s what it was. Is there ever a time of year you’re super busy?”

“I would say summers I do a lot of wisdom teeth removals, so I get bogged down there. Everything’s pretty consistent, though.”

“So, who’s going to be at this party?”

“My friends Greg and Lenny, who are very excited to meet you.” Harry smiles and gives Abby’s thigh a squeeze. “Some people from work, you know Marie, and Dr. Morgan’s going to be there as well. Some other med school buddies will be there. I’m only thirty-two it’s not really a big deal.” He shrugs.

“I’m excited to meet your friends too.” She smiles. “And it’ll be good that I’ll know a couple of people so you won’t feel like you have to babysit me.”

“Aw, babe, I wouldn’t feel like that. I wouldn’t leave your side if that’s what you wanted, no worries.”

She nods and smiles nervously at him. He just called her ‘babe’ and it filled her tummy with butterflies. The driver pulls up in front of the pub, and Harry gets out first so he can open Abby’s door. She smiles at him as he puts his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside.

“There he is!” Greg exclaims. “Happy birthday, H!” The two hug.

“Thanks, mate, this is Abby. Abby, this is Greg.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She says to him.

“Same to you, you’re even lovelier than Harry described.”

Abby giggles at that, and Harry leads her over to the coat room. It seems the whole pub had been rented out for his party. There was a small table for gifts, so she sets hers down.

“Wow, you look amazing.” Harry says, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“Thanks.” She smiles and leans in to peck his lips. “Wanna introduce me to some other people?”

“Yeah, come on.” He takes her hand and leads her back to everyone.

Abby gets introduced to Lenny, and some of Harry’s other doctor friends. She then gives Dr. Morgan a big hug, and she says hello to Marie and her wife. Harry gets Abby a glass of wine, and much to her surprise, he keeps his arm hooked around her waist for most of the evening. He clearly wanted her close by. His friends were kind, not at all arrogant, which was a tad unexpected since there were a lot of people with deep pockets in the room. Maybe doctors weren’t as snotty because they also had large student loan debts. They engaged her in conversation, asking about her work, and why the heck she wanted to spend her time with Harry, which made a lot of people laugh. Harry lit up when he was explaining how he and Abby actually met ears ago, and he talked about the card she had sent along to him, making her blush a bit. Everyone found the story to be quite endearing.

“Are you having a good time?” Harry asks Abby as they go up to the bar together.

“I am, your friends are great. Are you? It’s your birthday.”

“I’m having a wonderful time, even more so since you’re here.” He kisses her cheek and hands her a new glass of wine.

A tray of cupcakes is brought out, and everyone sings happy birthday to Harry. He blows out a few candles and thanks everyone for coming. The cupcakes were delicious, clearly from a nice bakery. Harry notices Abby getting a little bit of frosting on the corner of her mouth, and before she can grab a napkin, he’s catching it with his thumb and sucking it into his mouth. Her eyes widen as he winks at her.

“Th-thank you.” She says, clearing her throat.

“Don’t mention it.” He pecks her lips. “I was wondering something…”

“What is it?”

“Would you like to come home with me tonight? I thought it would be nice to spend some time alone after being so social.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I’d like that.” She nods.

“Will Marvin be alright without you?”

“Yeah, my, um, neighbor’s kid is actually watching him tonight. She’s a great pet sitter. I…I told her I may not be coming home tonight, so she’s fully prepared for a sleepover.”

Harry’s smile grows, and he kisses her again. After making the rounds to say goodbye to everyone, getting their coats, gathering all of the gifts, the two get into an uber to head to Harry’s condo. There’s a doorman that says hello to Harry and gives Abby a warm smile. She follows him through the lobby to the elevators. They step inside, and Harry hits a number on one of the higher floors. He leads her to his door, and he gets it open. She follows him into his living area, and they set his gifts down. He takes her coat for her, and hangs it up in his front closet.

“This is…a really nice place.” She says as she looks around.

“I’ll give you the full tour in a moment, I’ve been dying to open your gift all night.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “It’s really nothing special.”

He gives her an unconvinced look, and grabs the bag he remembers her bringing. They both sit down on the coach, and she watches him reach inside.

“A card, classic.” He smirks and sets it aside. He reaches back inside and pulls out the bottle of wine. “This is one of my favorites! How did you know?”

“I remember you ordering it when we went to that Italian place.” She smiles and he hugs her.

“Mind if I open it, or have you had enough for the night?”

“I’d love some.”

“Great! Just hang tight.”

Harry goes into the kitchen with the bottle. While she’s waiting patiently on the couch, Abby hears music come on. She sees a Bluetooth speaker light up, he must have turned it on from his phone. He comes out with two glasses of wine, and hands her one as he sits back down.

“Thank you.” She says as she takes a sip.

“No, thank you. This was really nice of you. You’ve got a great memory.” He takes a sip and sets the glass down on a coaster on his coffee table. She does the same. “My friends adored you, by the way. I’ve already got the texts to prove it.”

“I’m glad I made such a good first impression.” She inches closer to him.

He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear, and he leans in to kiss her. She wraps her arms around his neck, and opens her mouth for him. One of his hands falls to her thigh as the other one cups her cheek. Her fingers work their way into his hair, and he squeezes her hip.

“Abby.” He breathes, and moves to kiss on her neck, just under her earlobe.

She lets her heels fall off as she pushes him back farther on the couch. She moves to straddle one of his thighs, and she brings her lips back to his. His hands move up and down her back until they reach just above her bum. She grabs his hands and moves them down to her ass. He groans into her as he squeezes, loving how plump she is. She kisses along his jaw and to his neck, and she rolls her hips down onto his thigh. He raises it to help press into her. She whimpers into his neck, and he cups her cheeks so she’ll at him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bedroom?” He asks softly.

“I don’t wanna go to sleep yet.”

“I didn’t think you did.” He smirks.

“No, I just…I mean, if we go in there…that’s all I’ll want to do.”

“Sleep?” She nods her head yes. “Oh.”

“Harry, I’m sorry.” She sighs. “I know it’s your birthday, and you were probably hoping for some…stuff to go down between us, but I think we should wait a little longer. Is that okay?”

“Abby, I wasn’t expecting us to do anything. I mean, if we had of course it would have been nice, but it’s okay.” He assures her. “I’m just happy you wanted to come back with me.”

She leans back in to kiss him, and they continue to grope each other as they kiss. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she continues to rock back and forth on his thigh. She lets him puts his hands on her breasts, and he kneads them through her dress. He moves her to lay down on the couch and he settles himself between her legs as he hovers over her. He kisses on the tops of her breasts that were now spilling out of her dress. He sucks and bites on the plushier areas, eliciting a moan from her.

“H-Harry, maybe we should cool it before you turn me into a leopard.”

He chuckles against her and pecks her lips before he sits up.

“Would you spend the night?”

“I’d love to.”

He helps her up off the couch and leads her to the bedroom. He flips the switch for the lights, and her eyes widen. His bedroom was neat, almost a little too neat. She raises a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“I…um, have a housekeeper.” He clears his throat. “Let me just grab a few things for you. I’m assuming you’ll want something to sleep in?”

“Please.” She chuckles, watching him move to his dresser for a tee shirt and pajama bottoms.

She follows him into his en suite as he opens the closet inside to look for a spare washcloth and toothbrush. He sets everything down on his double vanity and smiles at her.

“Use whatever you need, beautiful.” He kisses her cheek and steps out to give her some privacy.

Abby strips herself of her clothes, and then washes her face. She brushes her teeth, runs her fingers through her hair, and then puts on the clothes Harry set aside for her. They were so soft and smelled just like him. She sighs happily and makes her way back into his bedroom. He smiles at her and stands up from the bed.

“Get comfortable, I’m just gonna do my thing.” He tells her and she nods. “There’s a spare phone charger on that side of the bed if you need it.” He points to the right side and she smiles.

When he’s done in the bathroom he comes out in a pair of plaid bottoms, but he’s gotten rid of his shirt altogether. He was littered with tattoos which really surprised her. She thought he only had the one little cross on his hand.

“When did you get all of those?” She asks as he gets into bed with her.

“All of what? Oh! My tattoos? Years and years ago, when I was a stupid teenager.” He chuckles. “Haven’t added to the collection in a while.” He looks down at himself. “Do you, uh, not like tattoos?”

“No! I think they’re really cool.” She furrows her brows as she scans his chest. “They’re so interesting.”

“Thanks.” He smirks.

“Did they hurt?”

“Some more than others. You sort of get used to it after a while. I’m assuming you don’t have any?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Just a few piercings.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “Got my cartilage, and three holes in each lobe.”

“Noticed those, I love the earrings you wear.”

“And…” She pulls the blankets back a bit and pulls the shirt she’s wearing up slightly to reveal her belly button. “Got this done when I was twenty-two. I always wanted one and said fuck it.”

“It’s cute.” He smiles as he admire the jewel attached to her naval. “Now that had to have hurt.” He says as she puts her shirt back down.

“It honestly wasn’t as bad as I thought. It was just a little pinch, the guy took really good care of me. I was a little light headed after, and it was sore for a few days, but other than that it was fine.”

They stay up talking for a bit until they eventually fall asleep. Abby had moves to rest her head on Harry’s chest, and that’s how she fell asleep, to the smooth rhythm of his heartbeat. Harry couldn’t remember the last time someone spent the night in his bed and it didn’t involve sex, there was something sort of sweet about not doing anything and still be able to fall asleep together comfortably. Maybe there was something to this taking it slow thing.

The next morning, Abby woke up being spooned by Harry. His breath was fanning over the back of her neck, and he had a leg between hers. His arm was strung across her lower stomach lazily. She grabs her phone and sees that it’s about 8:30. She yawns and wiggles a bit to adjust herself. She feels his lips press a kiss into the back of her neck and his arm tightens around her stomach.

“You awake, darling?” He coos and it nearly makes her melt.

“Mhm.” It’s all she can manage to say.

“Good morning then.” He kisses the back of her neck again.

“Good morning.” She rolls over to her other side to look at him and he gives her a sleep smile. He leans into peck her nose, and he rubs at her side.

“Sleep alright?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“Mhm.” He nods. “I’m gonna wash up and then make us some breakfast, how does that sound?”

“Sounds amazing, Harry.”

He gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. When he comes out he’s thrown a shirt on, and Abby gets up to freshen up herself. She washes her face and brushes her teeth, putting her bra on under the shirt he had given her so she wasn’t putting on a show for him. She comes out to his kitchen and smells fresh coffee. She wanted to roll her eyes as she saw him using a French press.

“Hope you like hazelnut, it’s the only flavor I’ve got.”

“It’s perfect. Got any creamer?”

“Mhm, in the fridge.” He points to it and she opens it up, grabbing the creamer on the top shelf. It was pretty much full.

“I don’t use it myself, mostly keep it for guests.” He pours the coffee into two mugs.

“Ah, and do you have guests often?”

“None that I’d want to have a sleepover with, if that’s what you’re asking.” He kisses her cheek, and she pours the creamer into her coffee. “Now, what can I make you? What do you like for breakfast?”

“Oh, nothing fancy.” She shrugs. “Whatever you feel like making is fine.”

“Eggs and toast?”

“Works for me. Can I help?”

“You can help by just having a seat.”

Abby smiles and sits down on one of the stools at Harry’s kitchen island while he works to get the eggs out of the fridge. He ends up making scrambled eggs for the two of them to keep things quick. It was a pleasant breakfast. Abby thought it was cute that Harry genuinely read from the morning newspaper. She was resting her chin on her palm watching him.

“Anything interesting going on?” She asks him.

“Nah, it’s all negative.” He sighs as he flips a page.

“Could I have the funnies?”

“Sure!” Harry finds the chunk with the comics and slides it over to her.

“Thanks, I used to look forward to this every Sunday when my dad would pick up The Globe.”

“What was your favorite?”

“There was this one called Opus. There were all these different characters, and the story was pretty linear, which I thought was cool. I actually saved the last comic strip in a scrap book. The main characters, Opus the penguin, had gone missing or something and he was trying to find himself. It really tugged at my heartstrings.”

“Sometimes I forget not all of the funnies are just for kids.”

“I’m also partial to Family Circus, and I loved Zits.”

Harry smiles and goes back to reading the paper. He liked going over the sports and arts sections most. Abby helps him clean up the dishes and then she goes to get dressed.

“Do you want some sweat pants to wear so you don’t have to put all of that back on?”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just gonna put the dress on.”

“Won’t you be cold without the stockings?”

“I’ll be alright, but thanks.”

“Let me at list drive you home.”

“Okay.” She nods.

The ride was comfortably quiet as Harry kept his hand in Abby’s. He pulls over to the side to stop in front of her building, and they look at each other. Smiles grow on both of their faces.

“You already know what I’m going to ask.” He says to her.

“I know, but I wanna hear you say it.”

“Alright, when can I see you next?”

“Hmm…what about Tuesday night? We could go to a movie. Tickets are cheaper on Tuesdays so we can splurge on snacks.”

“I like the way you think. I’d love to go to a movie. You pick, and just tell me what time I need to meet you.”

“Sounds good.” She leans in to peck his lips. “Talk to you soon.” She gets out of the car and heads up to her apartment. Chrissy, the teenager watching Marvin, was sitting on her couch watching TV. “Hey, Chrissy. I already paid you on Venmo.”

“I saw! Thanks so much.” She stands up.

“Thanks for watching him all night.” Abby scoops up Marvin and cuddles him to her chest. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all, he was great. He was my little study buddy.”

“Perfect. Well, enjoy your Sunday. Tell your parents thanks too.”

“I will, have a good day.” Chrissy heads out and Abby sets Marvin back down.

“Alright, Mumma’s gonna take a shower and then she’ll take you for a nice, long walk, sound good?” Marvin yips excitedly at her. “S’what I thought.”

//

Harry was fucked. He was running late and couldn’t get to a phone because he was in the middle of a surgery. Of course the one time there’s a few delays and complications he actually has somewhere to be. He was supposed to meet Abby at 6:45PM, it was already 6:30, there was no way in hell he was going to make it. He did his best to stay focused so he could do right by his patient. By the time he was done it was 7:45PM. He tried to call Abby, but her phone went right to voicemail.”

“Shit.” He says to himself.

“Dr. Styles.” Marie says. “You should change, you’re still scrubbed up and you have blood on you. Go home and shower, she’ll understand.”

“I just wish she’d turn her phone on…”

“Maybe she went to the movie alone.” Marie shrugs. “She could be one of those good people who actually turns their phone off.”

“Right, yeah. I’m gonna freshen up here, and then I’m gonna try to catch her outside the theater.”

Harry does just that, using the hospital locker room to have a quick shower. He rushes to the movie theater and waits outside. The movie they were supposed to see should be wrapping up any moment, so he goes into the lobby to watch for her. Hopefully she was actually there.

Abby throws out her trash and walks towards the main lobby. She was just turning her phone back on when she saw Harry standing there with a very apologetic look on his face. She sighs and walks over to him.

“I’m so sorry.” He starts. “I tried calling as soon as I could, but your phone went right to voicemail.”

“I turned it off when the previews started.” She chews on her bottom lip. “What happened?”

“My last surgery of the day got delayed, and then there were some complications…everything’s fine now, but it wasn’t an easy extraction. I had to really take my time, I’m so sorry. I swear this won’t happen a lot.” He looks down at his shoes and then back to her. “Was it a good movie at least?”

“It was alright.” She sighs. “Would have been better if I had someone to make comments to.” She nudges his shoulder.

“How can I make it up to you? Are you hungry? We could-“

“I already ate, it’s okay. I know you didn’t do anything on purpose. It’s getting late, so I’m just going to head home.”

“I feel terrible.”

“Don’t.” She smiles. “Shit happens.”

“Let me at least take you home, I drove here.”

“Sure.” She takes his hand in hers as they walk out of the theater. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved, actually, but I can just eat when I get home.”

“Don’t be silly, I have leftovers. You can come up and eat if you want.”

“I’d like that.”

Once they’re up in her apartment, Harry plays with Marvin while Abby heats up her leftover stir fry and rice. She hands Harry the warm bowl and they both sit down at the small table she has in her kitchen.

“Is it hot enough?” She asks him.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” He eats a little and then looks at her. “I really do feel terrible that you waited and had to sit alone…”

“It’s really okay. It’s not my first time going to the movies by myself.” She shrugs. “I’m pretty independent.”

“I just don’t want you thinking this is something that’s going to happen a lot. It’s so rare for a surgery like this to not be timely.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’s really sweet you still showed up at the theater like you did. We’re together now, that’s all that really matters.”

Harry finishes eating and cleans up his bowl. He stands with his hands in his pockets by the door and she stands with her arms crossed. Neither were sure what to do. It was really too late to hang out any longer since they both needed to work the next day.

“Are you free Friday night?” He asks her. “We could go to dinner if you like.”

“Sure, that sounds nice. Wanna say seven?”

“Works for me. I’ll pick you up then.” He caresses her cheek and kisses her. They both linger for a moment before letting go. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She sighs after he leaves. It sucked being at the movies alone, but it meant the world to her that he still showed up at the end. It really showed his character, and for that she was grateful. She was still trying to gauge what kind of guy Harry was, and she had finally come to the conclusion that he was a good one.

//

“Two months and still nothing?” Greg asks Harry one Sunday evening as he and Lenny came over to watch the hockey game.

“Yeah.” Harry sighs as he sips on his beer. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love kissing her and, and she’s let me touch her over her clothes, but…I don’t know, she’s not as desperate and grabby as I am. What if she’s just not as into me?”

“I don’t think she’d be seeing you still if she wasn’t into you.” Lenny says. “How old is she again?”

“Twenty-six, why?”

“Well, maybe she’s hoping for things to be a little more official before she goes all the way with you.”

“Define official.” Harry mutters.

“Maybe she wants to know if you’re her boyfriend.” Lenny states.

“God, do you really think she’s hung up on some stupid label? We’re dating, we’re together, I think that’s pretty clear.”

“Remember when I dated that younger girl? She was, like, twenty-three?” Greg says and the guys both nod. “Well, she wanted to know what the status was after a few months. Obviously it didn’t work out because of the age difference, but these things matter to the younger women. They wanna know what to refer to you. Boyfriend is a lot easier to say than having to say the guy I’m seeing.”

“So, you have to ask yourself, do you want to be Abby’s boyfriend?” Lenny asks him. “If you don’t see things working out long term with her you should break it off.”

“I definitely don’t want to break it off. I really like her, and I like spending time with her.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m going to her place on Thursday for dinner, maybe we can talk about it then.”

“Yeah? She cooking for you again?” Greg asks.

“Mhm.” Harry smiles. “She really likes cooking for me, I don’t know why. I don’t mind it, she always makes something delicious.”

“Do you ever cook for her?” Lenny asks.

“Sure.” Harry shrugs. “We take turns.”

“That’s good, those things should definitely go both ways.” Greg says. “I bet you she just wants to make sure you’re not going to up and leave the second she lets you hit it.”

“I don’t know why she’d even think I’d do something like that…”

“Maybe she’s been burned in the past.” Lenny shrugs. “Have you had the ex talk?”

“No.” Harry shakes his head. “It doesn’t seem like something we’ve needed to talk about…but maybe we do.”

//

Thursday night Harry goes over to Abby’s with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolate chip cookies. He liked bringing dessert the times she made dinner for him.

“Hey.” She smiles and kisses him once he’s inside. She must’ve had a long day at work because she was still in her work clothes. Most times when Harry came over she had already changed into comfier clothes. “How was your day?”

“It was good, how about yours?” He hands her the wine and cookies and follows her into the kitchen.

“Long.” She sighs. “I had some heavier appointments today.” She blinks a few times. “I…I cried with a student today.” She looks at him, tearing up.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry, come here.” He opens his arms for her and she’s comforted by his embrace. He rests his chin on the top of her head. “Are you allowed to tell me what happened?”

“Yeah.” She sniffles and looks up at him. “This male student…he had a rough go of it in high school. A teacher…molested him, and it was this whole thing. He’s from a small town in Vermont so everyone knew. He came here to get away from it, you know? Make a fresh start? He’s started to see this girl that he really likes, and he’s petrified of her finding out, and he’s not sure if he should just tell her or if he should keep it to himself. But he’s afraid she might find out anyways somehow. I felt terrible. I mean, what kind of sick fuck uses their position of power over a kid like that, you know?”

“That’s…awful, beyond awful.” Harry frowns down at Abby.

“I just couldn’t keep it together, especially when he started crying, so I cried too. Then we both started laughing, and he was able to calm down and we talked about things more.” She steps back from Harry and wipes under eyes.

“I guess the upside is that you created such a welcoming environment that he felt safe enough to be so vulnerable with you.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “I suppose that’s a silver lining, thanks.” She smiles. “Anyways, we’re going to meet bi-weekly now just for little check ins.” She sighs and moves to stir the pot of pasta that’s on the stove. “I’m making pasta and meat sauce, hope that’s alright.”

“It’s great, Abby. Can I do anything?”

“No, everything’s just about done. Um, would you actually mind taking Marv out quickly for me? He just ate and I haven’t had a chance to take him out to do his business.”

“You got it.”

It wasn’t Harry’s first time taking Marvin out, so he really didn’t mind. He leashes him up and takes him down to the street. Marvin does his business, and Harry gets him back upstairs. By the time he comes back, Abby’s plated up dinner, and gotten the wine open and poured.

“Thank you.” She says to him, and leans down to pat Marvin’s head. “Ready to eat?”

“Mhm, thank you for cooking.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” She smiles. “I like when we get to have dinner together.”

“Me too, babe.” He takes a bite of food and moans. “This is amazing, Ab.”

“Thanks.” She blushes and takes a sip of her wine. “Harry, um, there’s something I…well…I’m just gonna come right out and say it.” She takes a deep breath as he looks at her. “Am I…am I your girlfriend?”

Harry’s concerned face softens into a smile.

“I’d like you to be.” He says to her. “I was actually going to bring this up tonight, guess you beat me to it.”

“Oh.” She says, a little surprised. “Well, good, okay.” She nods and takes a bite of food.

“I like you a lot, and I know it’s been a couple of months. I’m still having a great time with you.”

“Same here!” She assures him. “I just, you know, I don’t know what to tell my friends sometimes when they ask about you.”

“Well, now you can tell them about your boyfriend, yeah?” He smirks. “When do I get to meet these friends, hm? You’ve met all of mine.”

“That’s true.” She chews her bottom lip. “Well, I could arrange for a night out at a bar some weekend. We all love going out to dance and stuff…”

“Sounds like fun.”

“You’d be into something like that?”

“Sure, why not?”

“You just don’t exactly seem like the type of person who would enjoy going to a stuffy club with a ton of drunk people.”

“Hey, I know how to hang. Set it up and I’ll be there.”

“Great, I’ll text them.” She smiles, her body was buzzing with excitement. Harry stands up abruptly and comes over to her side of the table, cupping her jaw. He slots his lips over hers, sucking on her bottom lip and then letting her go before he sits back down. “Wh-what was that for?”

“Just wanted to give my girlfriend a kiss.” He shrugs, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Oh.” Her face had to be beat red at this point. They look at each other and smile. This time it’s Abby who decides to be bold. She gets up and sits on his lap side saddle. She grabs her phone and opens up SnapChat because it was better for taking selfies.

“What are you doing?”

“We hardly have any pictures together. Now that you’re my boyfriend that’s going to change. Smile.” She says to him, and he does as she says, taking a very cute picture.

“Send that to me?”

Abby presses her lips to his. Getting through dinner was going to take a little longer tonight.  

//

Harry could, in fact, not hang. It was midnight and he was fighting to stay awake. He wished Abby had planned their big night out with her friends for a Saturday not Friday. It was a long week, and Harry just wanted to go to bed. He thought her friends were interesting. There was Billy, Abby’s absolute best friend. Billy happens to be trans, which Harry didn’t care about at all because Billy’s life was none of his business. Then there was Amy and Gina, Abby’s roommates from undergrad. They were all getting along fine, but the club was loud, packed, and sticky. Abby was having a good time, though, so what could he do?

“Another drink, Harry? Next round’s on me.” Billy says to him.

“Oh, no thank you. Think I’m gonna cool it.”

“Cool it?” Amy scoffs. “The night just started. Ab, hold old did you say he was again?”

“Don’t tease him.” Abby hooks an arm around Harry’s waist. “He’s thirty-two, a doctor, and he had a long week.” She looks up at him. “You’ve last two hours, go home if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She puckers her lips and he kisses her.

“It was really nice meeting all of you. We’ll have to do it again sometime…maybe on a night I didn’t have two different surgeries.” He kisses Abby again. “Text me when you get home so I know you got back safe?”

“Will do, bye, babe!” Harry heads out, and Abby looks back at her friends. “He’s cute, right?”

“Very.” Gina says. “He seemed like he was having fun at the beginning.”

“He’s just tired.” Abby sighs. “We should have waited until tomorrow. He really is a lot of fun.”

“I’m sure he is.” Billy says with a smile. “So, you really haven’t slept with him yet?”

“No.” Abby shakes her head.

“What’s the hold up?” Amy asks.

“I just haven’t felt ready.” Abby shrugs. “He’s a really good kisser, though, so I know I’m close to getting there with him.”

“You haven’t even sucked his dick?” Gina asks.

“No, but I’ve felt it. We grind on each other a lot. But I always have us stop before it gets to be too much.”

“I’ve literally never known you to not want to fuck a guy you’ve been seeing.” Billy says.

“I know…I just…it all just feels like a dream come true still, and I’m afraid that once we do it something will go wrong and we’ll stop seeing each other. I have no idea why I feel like that, but I do.” Abby says.

“He’d be an idiot to let you go.” Amy says. “Do it when you’re ready, but I think I speak for the three of us when I say we approve of him.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” The four share a group hug and go back out to the dancefloor to enjoy the rest of their night.

//

It was a rainy Saturday at the beginning of April. Harry told Abby to bring Marvin over to his place so they could get cozy for a lazy day of watching movies and being cozy. She happily accepted. The two of them really needed a day to relax. Abby was booked solid at work right now, and Harry was starting to get booked out with more and more wisdom teeth appointments. Harry liked when Abby would bring Marvin over. He had gotten a little dog bed for him and some toys. Harry even got him a little food and water bowl.

Abby was really falling for Harry. He made her feel safe, and he was beyond considerate. She also couldn’t believe how patient he was being. They were together three months, just entering the fourth, and they still hadn’t had sex yet. She knew he wanted it, of course, and she really wanted it too.

They were curled up on the couch together while Marvin was snoozing on his little dig bed. Neither had ever watched The Mindy Project before so they were binging it. Abby couldn’t believe what she was about to do, but she couldn’t help from blurting it out.

“Harry?” She looks up at him.

“Yeah?” He looks down at her.

“I…I love you.” His eyes widen as he looks at her, his mouth falling open. “Oh my god, it’s too soon, right? I…I…I…” Before she can ramble on anymore, he’s kissing her, hard.

“Christ, Abby.” He presses his forehead to hers. “I love you too.” He kisses her again.

“Really?”

“Of course I do. You couldn’t tell? I’ve got your picture framed on my night table, and I’ve got all this stuff here for Marvin, and I keep your favorite snacks in the pantry…”

She moves to straddle him, pushing his shoulders back into the couch. She slots her mouth over his, and he holds her close to him. She sucks on his bottom lip, making him groan.

“Harry, bring me to your bedroom, now.”

“Y-you wanna go to sleep?” He looks at her confused.

“No, I want you to fuck me.” She looks at him with dark eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

He doesn’t question her again. Instead, he lifts her up and quickly carries her down the hall to his bedroom. He gets her on the bed, hovers over her, and starts by getting her shirt off. His eyes widen when he sees the lace bra she was wearing. He furrows his brows as he gets her leggings off. He glares at her when he sees that her panties match her bra.

“What is it?” She asks innocently.

“There’s this old saying that goes along the lines of if the girl’s wearing matching underwear, then she’s the one who decided to have sex.” Abby blinks at him. “Were you planning for this tonight?”

“I was hoping.” She sits up on her elbows. “I…I’ve been fucked over before, and I really wanted to make sure I knew how we felt about each other before we did this. I’m sorry that I made us wait so long.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” He caresses her cheek. “I’ll admit I was a little frustrated in the beginning, but…I’m sort of glad we waited. It’ll be more special now.”

“Exactly!” She beams at him. “Can…can we get back to it now?”

He chuckles and takes his shirt off and pants off. He hovers over her and kisses on her neck and chest. He reaches behind her to unhook her bra, and tugs it away. His lips wrap around one of her nipples, and he licks around it. He sucks on her, and it makes her moan. He licks over to her other breast, and sucks on her other nipple. She pushes his head closer to her chest and tugs at his hair. He kisses and nips his way down her soft tummy. She lifts her hips as he tugs her panties off. He opens her legs and sucks a bruise into her thigh. She gasps at that and groans. He licks a flat stripe up her slit and to her clit. He does this a few times, just to get a good taste of her.

He looks up at her as his tongue flicks back and forth on her clit. He presses a hand on her pelvis and pushes up so he can see her better. He sucks on her clit and she moans out. His fingers work around her folds, feeling her wetness, and then he slides his middle finger in. He gets his ring finger in as well, and starts to pump in and out of her. He moans into her as his hips rut against the bed. She grabs at his hair as his fingers start to rub against her front wall. Abby starts panting and breathing heavier.

“Fuck, Harry, please don’t stop!”

He groans into her as his answer, and keeps doing everything exactly the same to help get her there. Her hips move along with his face, and her body starts to feel warm all over. She cries out as she comes to her release. He retracts his fingers, and he sucks on her wet center before sitting up. She catches her breath and smiles at him. He smiles at her and gets his boxers off. She whimpers when she looks at his hard dick. She crawls towards him and wraps her hand around him. She kisses his tip and wraps her lips around him.

“God, I’ve been dreaming about this.” He groans as his head rolls back while she starts to bob up and down on him. She goes down enough to choke on him, and then she pulls off. “Do you want me to use a condom?”

“No, I’m on the pill. I wanna feel you.”

He nods and gets back onto the bed with her. She opens her legs back up for him, and he rubs the head of his cock along her folds and clit. Her hips press up towards him in anticipation. He slowly presses into her, and her mouth falls open.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” He grunts as he bottoms out.

“Move.” She tells him. “Move, Harry.” She whines, and he starts to rock in and out of her. She clutches at his biceps and digs her nails in. “Oh my god.” She moans.

“Feels good?”

“Feels amazing.” She bites her bottom lip. “Go harder.”

“Yeah, want me to fuck you hard?”

“Fuck, yeah, really give it to me.”

He gives her a wicked grin, and then pulls out of her. He flips her onto her stomach and slides back in. He grips the back of her neck, and his other hand rests at the base of her spine. He takes a deep breath, pulls out almost all the way, and then snaps his hips back into her. She gasps, and he does it again. He smacks her ass, and continues to fuck into her hard. The hand at the base of her spine slides around to her clit and he rubs it. It doesn’t take her long to lose it again. He pulls out and sits up against his headboard. Abby sinks down on him as he grips her hips. They move in sync together as she rides him. She licks into his mouth and they both moan. His hands grab all over her body, unsure of where he liked squeezing the most. He fondles her breasts for a bit before deciding to stick with her ass.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Abby.” He says as he kisses on her neck. “I want you to come for me again.” He snakes a hand between them so he can rub her clit again.

“Fuck, yes, oh my god, Harry!” She grinds faster on him. “I want you to come inside me.”

“Shit, fuck.” He moans out and they come at the same time. “Fuck, Abby.” He breathes and kisses her, sucking on her bottom lip. Her fingers tangle back into his hair.

“Was it, um, worth the wait?”

“Oh my god, of course it was. I wanna fuck you over and over.” He smirks at her and she giggles.

“I think that can be arranged.” She pecks his lips. “Would you ever want to, um, tie me to the bed?”

“Oh, baby, if I didn’t love you before.”

[transhawks]

Let's talk about Mineta and masculinity. Just my thoughts as bi trans man.

Real talk, I've said for years Mineta was disappointing because Horikoshi could do a lot with him. He could have easily subverted the 'funny drawn comic relief' with him because clearly Horikoshi has commented on insecurity in personal life and as a man, knows that there is a lot of pressure on young boys to prove that they are capable of attracting girls to other boys.

That men who can't get girls are derided as weak, emasculated, and ostracized but that is a very acceptable form of bullying. We judge people by their partners a lot in society and teen boys who don't fit conventional standards of attractiveness get the message that unless a girl likes them, they're not real men. That's why you see this bitterness in nerd boy culture - there is a societal expectation on men to be virile, and why so often 'nerd media's has sexist tropes that focus on the 'undesirable' man getting the girl.

It's the thought process that fuels everything from 80's scifi tropes that gave us 'alien/not from here girls' to 2010s Isekai anime that really have a ostracized nerdy boy becoming their own power fantasy. It's the foundation of incels - which in their original conception and meaning are 'involuntary celibates', mostly men who are 'denied girls' and therefore everything else that comes with that. We have a society that priorities romantic relationships, where families are assumed to be blood-tied, and this does indeed cause real issues in how people who cannot or do not want to achieve that live their lives.

What I'm trying to say is, yes, Mineta's behavior was always disgusting. You have every right to hate him for his actions, but there's complexity here, too. And part of me really hoped it was for a point. That finally someone would write character whose growth meant realizing that his worth as a person was not about getting girls to like him and being girl crazy, that the perversion was a bad way of expressing his insecurities and frustrations. And working through that.

And, surprisingly if the translation is true and the Japanese fandom is right, we ...just might have? I mean I'd want to see an apology from Mineta about his behavior, but if Horikoshi just did all that because Mineta wasn't just facing this sort of pressure and societal expectation as a straight man, but also a queer man, well, that's... Shocking. But not as untrue to real life as many people think.

A lot of people younger than me (I graduated hs in 13) and might not understand how common closeted and being downlow was recently in the US. In Japan it's much more like that now. A lot of queer people do end up performing heterosexuality 'in excess' in both denial and cover up. All those jokes about 'compensating for something' did and do have some basis. When straight male masculinity is general dependent on virility and asserting dominance, is it any wonder that an attempt at performative cishet masculinity ends up being far more toxic than the usual? It is born out of insecurity and, added in the queerness, fear. To be seen as weak or effeminate is very much a big fear on boys' minds, because it comes with repercussions, loss of status. There's a safety that being out removes from you.

So I understand there is a lot of anger about 'of all the representation, Mineta..' but actually, this is incredibly realistic and not as bad as you think. Not all queer characters are meant to be likable. And perhaps coming to terms with their queerness is essential to them stopping bad behaviors and becoming better people - and that is representation.

There is a lot to be discussed on how damaging our narrow views on masculinity are for all genders, and there is also a discussion to had about how many of us queer and trans people often perform 'roles' or present in ways that mask our insecurities with confidence. Sometimes it's like sliding into two different sides of the spectrum - when closeted, performing rigidly the gender roles we are supposed to confirm to, and often when first coming out, going all the way to be as visibly loud and as possible/or rigidly conforming to the new gender roles if you're trans and binary. Is it really so surprising a young boy confused about his sexuality went out of his way to try and prove he was the straightest boy there?

I see many people wish it was Aoyama as a very clear cut and confident 'GNC' boy, but the truth is, wouldn't that just gather the 'we already knew' comments? What about those of us who didn't know?

So, while I still think so much of Mineta's harassment played as a joke was awful and in line with a lot of the other sexism Horikoshi routinely puts into his own manga, I ask people to think a bit more about what it means to be a queer boy when they express revulsion at the fact 'it had to be Mineta'.

There are way more insecure boys with unconventional looks who find bad ways of coping with their queerness than you think and a lot of the commentary I am seeing veers into that reinforcing 'eew no one wants him'. Yeah, I don't think many people would want the Mineta who climbs onsen walls to peep, but Mineta does not have to be /that boy/ down the line. And maybe feeling something for Deku is helping him do just that - and isn't that what we wanted from Deku, who has changed so many of his friends into better people? Isn't that better than Mineta staying what he was?

[hillbillyoracle]

Shadow Work and the Language of Trauma

***note: this is not a well thought-out essay, it's three ideas in a trench coat. please forgive the spelling mistakes and understand that this is a thought process not a thought finished ***

It is my great hope that the way we talk about trauma has a fundamental reckoning soon.

The toll moralistic language around trauma has taken on me personally has been staggering and I can't imagine I'm the only person. What I mean by that is how western psychology in particular responded to the research around trauma by spreading this message of "it's not your fault" and "you didn't deserve that" and "you're not a bad person".

"What? But it's true!" you might say. Well, it's true - in a specific context. But when it's generalized there are issues that come from using such heavy language like "deserve", "bad", and "fault". I've seen a progressive uptick in people using the language of trauma in contexts where it really does not apply as talking about trauma (in this loaded moral way) is normalized*.* I think I've seen it most often used to escape the discomfort of being held accountable but I've also been seeing it used to hide an intolerance for experiences someone merely does not enjoy by moralizing it through the language of trauma and integrating it through a traumatic narrative instead of actually attending to the tolerance issue.

Example: Person A is upset with Person B. Person A is speaking in a way Person B does not like but that they are not unhealthy or abusive for doing so (ie. being slightly louder than Person B would prefer, naming their experience of a situation in a different way than Person B would). Person B physically and emotionally cannot tolerate this exposure to something they don't like but rather than use a healthy coping mechanism like breathwork and then active listening, they connect the discomfort with a past largely dissimilar traumatic experience and begin to paint Person A as if they're being abusive for doing what they don't like - "Stop yelling at me!" or "You're gaslighting me!" For Person A, this send the message their neutral/healthy behavior is actually abusive and bad and healthy behavior is only what Person B has a tolerance for.

Here's the rub of it though. Person B's lack of physical and emotional tolerance is itself a symptom of past trauma. Connecting the experience to unrelated trauma and painting the other person as abusive as a way to deal with that intolerance is also a trauma response. But for Person A this is fresh trauma or possibly retraumatizing depending on their experiences.

Everyone involved is dealing with trauma, but since trauma carries this moral weight in our discussions, Person B is highly incentivized to focus the conversation on their trauma so they can escape being a "bad" person. Moral language tends to be totalizing meaning Person A might not feel like they can acknowledge Person B's past trauma for fear of their own being erased and not getting support. It's a bad fucking time.

This situation is not one of resilience, it makes communities weaker, and it's a conversation trauma professionals are only relatively recently having. But those of you who've been here a minute know I'm not really social theorist, I'm a shadow worker.

And my concern with is that this type of moralizing and the trauma-as-coping-mechanism in particular pose a real risk for shadow workers who don't confront and name it in themselves and others. For a few reasons.

For one, trauma is fundamentally disruptive to how we organize our personhood - an importance factor in doing magic - and if you are in a position where you're either using your trauma to moralize your way out of situations you can't tolerate or having to be around someone who is doing that frequently, there's a high incentive not to integrate fully, to give up your Power generally so you can exert what seems like more control in the micro of how those situations play out. By incentive I mean - who the fuck wants to be the "bad" person at the end of that and if "good" people are the one that's more traumatized than the other, well...you see where I'm going. If your immediate circumstances are so compelling that giving up your Power feels like a matter of life and death - it's going to be hard to do any integration work that doesn't immediately get undone.

Because of it's impact on Power, any spellwork done on the issue - without remediation for the issue itself - is likely to get weaker and be less helpful as time wears on. It's just kind of a black hole of a situation.

Two, it encourages black and white thinking which is at odds with Reality and you can't reshape reality skillfully if your view to begin with is prone to narrowing and narrowing. Not only are you less likely to assess and isolate an accurate root cause to perform work on, you're also less likely to select an effective spell given the situation in front of you. If you're continually using trauma-as-coping-mechanism and villainizing other people for what some part of you likely knows is totally neutral behavior, you're more likely to isolate them as the root cause and cast spell toward changing them. There are two outcomes from this - the spell work works on them but doesn't ultimately achieve what you want because what you really want is to be safe and they weren't being unsafe to begin with or, what more likely from what I've seen, the spellwork doesn't work because a faction of you knows that the root cause is inside you - which can even lead to curses or cutting ties to backfire on to you if you're not careful.

Okay so what do you do? To be honest, I've not seen a specific modality that works terribly effectively on this. I wish socially we'd have a reckoning and that would help a good many people. The best I have is something that I know will be incredibly unpopular but - stop moralizing trauma. Both people who've caused it and people who have it. I think the prospect of that is so scary because people think it's the only way to hold abusers accountable for their actions. But I promise you it's not. In actuality, labeling someone as "bad" is more harmful for us and holds less weight than talking about the material harms their abuse has had on us. I include emotional harm in material harms because I mean, it is. The body and the mind aren't separate so feelings are material.

From the prior example, maybe Person A makes the decision not to participate in the moralizing and instead stops to name the harms Person B's coping mechanism is having on them - confusing healthy behavior with preferred behavior, distress at being told a neutral/healthy behavior is abusive and by extension they're bad and deserving of being socially isolated or worse. Even Person B doesn't respond in a material perspective, Person A retains their Power by naming what's happening in reality as they see it and not fracturing to maintain the high ground.

Better yet, Person B, when they can't tolerate the actions Person A is doing that they don't like, could name that - "I'm having trouble tolerating what you're doing even though it's neutral/healthy. Parts of me want to say what you're doing is abusive even though in reality it is not." Then Person B would be able to rob the trauma-as-coping mechanism of it's appeal and retain their Power as well.

Clarity of language, free for the totalizing effects of morality, I think is the clearest path forward to putting down the trauma-as-coping mechanism. But it has to go both ways; stop using it for those who've harmed you and stop using it to describe yourself. I know that's the part I'm still struggling with a lot.

Anyways, I hope this is helpful to someone out there. You're not bad person for overgeneralizing your trauma to cope with things you merely dislike - but it does, in my experience, come at a cost to your ability to do effective spellwork. It's worth looking at the cost and seeing if it's worth continuing to use the coping mechanism to you.

[jokerscrazybrilliant]

Survive - Chapter 4 - (Captain Rex)

Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4

Story on other platforms:

A03 · Quotev

________

“Master Anakin,” I was surprised to see him on the bridge as I entered. “I thought you would’ve been preparing your ship for battle.”

He turned to me with a small, excited smile. “Actually, Ahsoka is leading this assault.”

My eyes widened lightly in surprise. “Oh! That’s exciting.” I moved to join him and Rex at the holo-table that displayed the planetary blockade. "So, how come she gets her first command here before I do?!" I piped up lightheartedly.

"She's been training with me for longer." Anakin responded without looking at me.

"But I've been training for years!" I protested in dismay.

"But not with me." He turned to me with a small smirk.

"So what?! You don't believe in my abilities?"

"I only leave my squad with people I trust."

"So you don't trust me?!" My voice was between hilarity and hysteria as I stared at him in disbelief.

"I didn't say that exactly..." Anakin trailed off, grinning teasingly.

The captain tried but failed to hide his snickers at this, and I narrowed my eyes as I turned to glare at him. "What are youlaughing at?" I made my voice as threatening as I could as I stared daggers at him.

"Oh nothing, commander." He straightened up immediately, not quite able to maintain a straight face as I chased Anakin off the bridge towards the hangar bay, threatening him that he would soon learn what true regret is.

***

Anakin beat me to the hangar, wanting to check on Ahsoka before her first solo lead, and I followed soon after, walking over to where they were speaking, Ahsoka sitting in her red Jedi Fighter. “You nervous, Ahsoka?” I asked, smile on my face as I recalled my first time commanding a fighter squadron. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, and I remember the adrenaline that took over my veins in that first dogfight, leading my men over a separatist-occupied world.

“What is with you people?!” She threw her hands in the air frustratedly. Clearly, I had struck some sort of nerve.

“Sorry, sorry.” I laughed, holding my hands up in surrender. “Well then, are you feeling ready for your first command?”

“I hope so.” She muttered lightly.

“I believe she is.” Anakin gave her a warm, encouraging smile.

“I do too.” I grinned at her, trying to convey confidence to her somehow. “Trust in the force.” I told her, and she nodded pensively, taking a deep breath to calm herself before she began her assault. I left her there with her master, heading back to the bridge where I could oversee the battle with Master Skywalker and Admiral Yularen.

***

It was a trap. Four enemy cruisers had been waiting to reinforce the blockade, and the moment we launched our attack they made their entry. Ahsoka, too headstrong and determined to make her first mission a success, had not relented to Admiral Yularen and Master Skywalker’s orders to return to the ship until it was far too late, losing her entire squadron in the process.

I felt bad for her but didn’t blame her. When I was younger, I would’ve made the same mistake. Excited at the prospect of being seen as a proper leader, wanting to make my master proud… I could understand why she was so crushed. Losing your men for the first time was not an easy thing. The loss weighed heavy on your soul, even years after the fact. Their faces haunted your dreams…

Shaking myself out of my trance, I headed to the hangar bay once more to see what Master Skywalker was up to, after hearing he had called for the immediate evacuation of the starship Defender, one of our only two remaining cruisers.

“Master, what’s the deal? Why is the Defender evacuating?” I found him standing with Ahsoka in front of his shuttle, R2 waiting behind him on the ramp.

“Oh, Ahsoka will bring you up to speed on the plan.” He winked at me, turning to walk up the ramp, Rex following after him.

“Rex, you don’t have to come. I don’t intend to put anyone other than myself at risk here.” I raised my eyebrows at Anakin’s words. Just how risky was his new plan?

“Of course, Sir.” Rex ignored him, climbing up the ramp ahead of him, Anakin grinning in amusement at this.

“Alright. Then good luck with this plan Master. Oh, and Rex, keep an eye on him please.” I called to the captain.

“Of course, sir. Someone has to.” Anakin laughed at this and followed Rex onto the ship, ignoring Ahsoka’s frustrated calls as he left her and I in a hangar full of confused soldiers.

“Awaiting orders, commander.” The men peered at her curiously, unsure of what to do with the new commander in charge.

“I’ll be on the bridge…” Ahsoka backed away hesitantly, looking thankful when another soldier stepped in.

“You heard her men, back to work!” Quickly everyone went back to business as usual, and I followed Ahsoka to the lift.

“Everything alright?” I inquired concernedly as the doors hissed shut behind us.

She nodded, not meeting my eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She muttered.

Before I could say anything else the doors opened back up to the bridge and Ahsoka walked out, me following after her slowly. I stood to the back slightly as I observed her debriefing, not liking how the men were doubting her explanations.

Master Skywalker’s brilliant plan was to try to ram his way though the blockade with the now evacuated Defender, taking down their major defenses and allowing for us to mount an attack with our remaining forces. It was by no means an ideal plan, but if Anakin were here to tell them, no one would question him. He would’ve gone through the debrief with such confidence the men would actually start to believe it might work.

Ahsoka, on the other hand, was having some trouble, understandably. She was young, and new to command, and she had just suffered a blow to her confidence when she lost her squadron. But this was an important lesson for her to learn, and I understood why Master Skywalker was pushing her like this. It was the only way to teach her to someday be a great Jedi Master. Either you could deal with the pressure, or you couldn’t.

“I wish General Skywalker had discussed this plan with us. The odds are very much against us.” The Lieutenant sighed, shaking his head as he stared at the holograms displayed in front of us.

“They always are.” Ahsoka murmured dismally, eyes lowered in defeat.

“Yes, but normally we have General Skywalker to lead us and–” My eyes widened at this, heart sinking as Ahsoka’s confidence sunk even further. “I meant no offense – commander.” The Lieutenant apologized quickly, realizing what his words insinuated. I bit my lip, watching the interaction before me. As much as I wanted to step in and defend Ahsoka, to lend her some of my strength, Anakin put her in charge for a reason. This was a learning chance for her, and she needed to find the strength and confidence to be a leader on her own. She needed to learn to trust herself.

“None taken.” Her eyes lowered to the floor, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was too soon for Anakin to be testing her in this manner. Her confidence had already taken a major hit when she lost her squad. I decided it wasn’t my choice. I simply had to trust Anakin’s instincts as a teacher. I also had to focus on his suicidal plan at the moment, and try to figure out how we would make that work.

“Just one problem.” I folded my arms as I stepped forward, closer to the circle, drawing everyone’s attention for a moment. “When Anakin takes out that command ship, how are we going to manage to destroy the remaining ships with our limited firepower?” I raised my brows lightly, inviting ideas, eyes focused on Ahsoka.

“I thought about that, and, well, I have an idea.” The corner of my lips curled up into a smile as Ahsoka brightened, realizing she had something to contribute.

“Go ahead, commander.”

“If we took the Resolute and angled her hull against the incoming frigates, the bridge and hangar deck would be relatively safe from their attack. We could draw them in and then use the bombers to outflank them. The bombers would be too fast, and they would be trapped.” Her eyes lit up as she pitched her idea, hope trickling into her force signature.

“I’m not sure about this, commander.” The Lieutenant quickly dismissed her idea, doubt littering his voice. “Perhaps a different strategy – we need more time to plan.”

“No!” Ahsoka cut in angrily, “We don’t have any more time! Master Skywalker needs me now! He needs us now.” I smiled proudly as she regained her resolve.

I opened my mouth to support her, but Admiral Yularen spoke up before I could, walking up to join us at the holo-table. “The commander is right. I know this strategy is very bold, but these circumstances call for drastic measures.”

“Then, the strategy will work, sir?”

Yularen turned to Ahsoka, brow raising to her. “Well, will it?”

“Yes, it will.” Ahsoka flashed him a grateful smile, and, the men reassured, we began preparations to set our plan in motion.

***

“I can’t believe that worked.” Ahsoka murmured to me, watching the new wave of our bombers taking out the remainders of the enemy fleet.

I chuckled at her admission. “Me neither.” I reached out, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “You did well Ahsoka. This success is yours. Now let’s go grab your master before he manages to get himself in trouble.” I gave her a warm smile as I headed over to the comm table, turning it on and switching it to Anakin’s frequency.

He appeared onscreen with a grin, a slightly disgruntled Rex behind him. “Nim, Snips! How did my plan go?”

“You mean you didn’t see Ahsoka utterly decimate the enemy?” I raised my eyebrows at him curiously.

“Yeah, about that. We were hit by an enemy ship, grazed, actually, and we’re fine, but we may have drifted off course…” He gave a slightly guilty smile as Rex gave a sigh behind him. “It was an accident!”

“You thought you could hit it and take it out without hurting our escape pod, sir.” I let out a small laugh at this, Ahsoka raising the heel of her palm to her forehead with a small, exasperated sound.

“Well, I’m sorry for trying to help my padawan in any way I can!” Anakin exclaimed, gesturing towards her in emphasis. “I didn’t realize these escape pods were so flimsy.” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s an escape pod, not a fighter.” I grinned at Anakin’s inability to stay out of a fight.

“Well, our beacon has been transmitting and we’re just waiting here for you to come get us.” I turned to Ahsoka, about to tell her we could take my ship to pick him up, before Anakin turned to look at something offscreen, catching my attention. “Oh, is that you already?”

I frowned at this, sharing a look of confusion with Ahsoka before looking back at Anakin. “That’s not us, what–” The comm froze and fizzed out, his image disappearing in front of us. “Ahsoka, update Admiral Yularen on the situation, have him scan our surroundings using long and short-range scanners and send out two shuttles to take opposite sectors and find that escape pod.”

Ahsoka nodded at me and turned, hurrying off to find the Admiral, and I took a breath, keeping any panic at bay as I formulated my thoughts on what could’ve happened to Anakin.

***

“We’ve been monitoring any transmissions, it doesn’t seem the separatists have–”

“None of our shuttles have found anything–”

“We’ve boosted signal to the scanners and still haven’t found any sign–”

“Commander! Incoming transmission.” I turned to the trooper and gave him a nod, dismissing the crew around me as I followed him into the transmission room, Ahsoka following behind me silently.

Masters Mace Windu and Obi-Wan were waiting for us onscreen, Obi-Wan turning and addressing us immediately as we walked in. “Nimra, Ahsoka, I’m glad to see you. I hear something about Anakin’s escape pod getting lost?”

I nodded at this. “His shuttle was damaged in his escape, and they were thrown off course. We were speaking to him when he seemed to think we found him, and his transmission was cut off. We’ve been searching for him with as many resources as we can afford right now, and we’ve been keeping an eye on any outgoing separatist transmissions. It doesn’t seem that they have him.”

Master Windu finally spoke up, looking at me as he conducted himself in his usual, serious manner. “I know that these are stressful times, but it is critical that you maintain the airspace in front of this planet in order for us to be able to successfully take the capital.”

“Understood, Master Windu.” I nodded to him respectfully.

“Let us know when you have any updates on the situation. That’ll be all.” With that the holograms disappeared, leaving me and Ahsoka in the empty room.

“We need to send more people to look for him – widen the scanner range!” Ahsoka’s anxious voice cut through the silence.

I shook my head at her gently. “You heard what Master Windu said, we need to maintain this airspace. We will keep monitoring all comms and scanners, but we can’t afford sending out more ships, we need them here. Anakin will manage just fine. Besides, Rex is with him. He’ll keep him out of trouble.” I gave her a small smile, and she tried to contain her disappointment as she let out a small, frustrated huff, nodding to me obediently before going back out to the bridge.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting out a small plea for patience into the force before following out after her.

***

After another eighteen hours straight on the bridge, monitoring all movements and squads, Admiral Yularen finally forced me off the bridge, pulling rank and demanding I take some time to rest, which, as I so helpfully pointed out, I did not need. But alas, I made my way to my quarters and laid in bed for a fitful two hours before giving up and exiting my room once more, wandering the halls until I found myself in the hangar bay.

With most fighters either deployed or in the repair space, the rest of the bay was fairly empty. Slowly, I trudged over to where my own personal ship sat. The Aa’kua, which translated to ‘respect’ in basic. It was an old Corellian word, and one of the few ways I ever tied myself to my planet of origin. I didn’t remember anything of Corellia, I was only a youngling when I was found and brought into the order and I hadn’t returned there since. However occasionally I would find myself wondering about it. Maybe I had some family there that was missing me. I would never know. So instead I learned some old Corellian words, ales and recipes.

I looked up at the ship, tracing my fingers along the custom painted teal hull. It was a Theta-class T2c shuttle that had been retrofitted with particle shields as well as more powerful ray shields. The hull of the ship was larger than usual to account for and house where I had equipped proton torpedoes. It was originally a personal transport shuttle, one typically used by senators to transport them to and from Coruscant’s surface, but I made sure it was ready for battle.

With nothing to do and no intention to go back to my desolate quarters, cracked open one of the ship’s panels and searched for any repairs that could consume my attention for even a moment.

***

It had been a few days since Anakin’s escape pod went missing. Master Obi-Wan’s mission was a success, and Master Windu was about to mount his attack on the capital when we got a message from him telling us the separatists had begun attacking innocent civilian communities, bombers attacking entire cities at a time. “We need you to take them out.”

I bowed my head to him. “Yes master.” Exiting the communications room, I knew I would need Ahsoka to help me if we were to eliminate the enemy forces quickly enough to help Master Windu. We had limited resources and needed every last hand on deck.

I commed her to let her know to meet me in the shuttle bay and I got the men ready to deploy in two flights. One under my command, and one under Ahsoka’s.

“You called for me?” I turned to find Ahsoka looking up at me, eyes flickering from me to the ships behind me, men prepping fighters for flight.

“Yes. Master Windu needs us to provide air support on the planet’s surface. The separatists have begun attacking innocent civilians.”

“But Master Skywalker–”

“We will find him, Ahsoka, I promise you. You have a strong bond with him. Search through the force, can you feel him?” I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to go through the exercise with her.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you know he’s okay. We both know Anakin can take care of himself, but right now those separatists are attacking innocent people, and they need us. They can’t protect themselves, so we must protect them. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Nimra.”

“Good. My squadron will cover the north, and the planet’s capital, but I need you to lead your men and destroy whatever ships are in the south.”

“We’ll destroy every last one of those bombers.” I smiled at her determination.

“Alright then. Let’s go.”

***

We managed to destroy all the bombers successfully, and in time to make Master Windu’s plan a success, and once we saw them safely take the capital, we made our way back to our cruiser. Charger found me before I even made my way down the ladder as I descended from my Jedi Fighter. “Commander Sayla, Admiral Yularen wants you in the communications room urgently. Something about General Skywalker.”

I gave him a quick nod, thanking him before I gestured for Ahsoka to follow as I made my way to the lift. “What’s this about?” She asked after hurrying to join me.

I shrugged and the lift took us up to the bridge. We quickly hurried across the bridge, catching glances from the officers around us as we made our way into the small comm room where Admiral Yularen already stood, arms folded neatly behind his back as he observed the hologram before him.

The weequay turned to us as we entered, grinning as he spoke. “Welcome, welcome, my friends.”

Admiral Yularen turned as well, and I looked to him with a raised brow. “Who is this?”

The weequay lifted his hat and bowed, brandishing it dramatically as he introduced himself. “I am Hondo Ohnaka, at your service!”

My second brow rose at this, confused by who this person was or why we were speaking to him.

“This bounty hunter claims to have gained custody of General Skywalker.” The Admiral informed us, and I quickly raised a hand to restrain Ahsoka. I gave her a look that told her to stay silent, and stood forward as this ‘Hondo Ohnaka’ gave an offended gasp at the Admiral’s statement.

“Don’t insult me! We are pirates! And I do not claim to have, I have him!” He gestured behind him, flopping into a chair and propping his feet as the hologram expanded to show some of his background, including a handcuffed Anakin. He looked to be unharmed, apart from his damaged ego, giving a sheepish smile as he waved a hand. Anakin disappeared from the transmission again as the focus went back to Hondo. “We found a damaged escape pod and so kindly rescued it, and now we are returning your master jedi to you safely. I have already been talking to this Admiral of yours about the small matter of… payment, for our services, you know, fuel can be so expensivethese days.”

"What about the captain that was with Master Skywalker in the escape pod? Where is he?"

The pirate fiddled with his hands for a moment. "Ah yes, well you see, that is kind of a funny story, actually." He stood from his chair dramatically as his speech became more animated. "Someone managed to get away with him. Presumably, he had an arrangement with some third party. He tried to take both my guests and flee, but we managed to stop him! Partially, anyway."

"Who managed to get away with him?" My eyes narrowed as my patience waned thin, growing more and more frustrated with how at ease this pirate seemed to be, like we were old friends or colleagues.

"One of my men, one of my own crew – betrayedme! Oh – I taught them so well. But that does mean I have no idea where your friend is. But at least we have the Jedi!" He grinned widely, gesturing at where we had previously seen Anakin off to the side.

"If you harm him, you will regret it. I swear to you." The animosity in my voice surprised even myself. I wasn't sure which part of me this was coming from, but it certainly wasn't the rational part. The rational part of my brain was citing everything Master Obi Wan and Master Diya had ever taught me about patience and being the bigger person, to no avail.

"Oh–" the pirate gasped and brought a hand up to his chest. "You offend me! There is no need for threats here, believe me. We are a civilised people, we do not require that sort of thing. This Master Jedi will have our best treatment! So long as you bring the payment of course." The pirate gave a final smile and little wave before shouting at someone in the background to end the transmission.

I brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose for a moment. "How much do they want?"

"They are asking for one million credits."

"I will ask the Council on how to proceed." I received a nod from him before exiting the bridge.

***

I sent word to my informant to look for any information on Rex’s whereabouts, and the council sanctioned the credits to trade for Master Skywalker. And since we were no longer needed on Ryloth, we made our way to the coordinates to collect our wayward General. It took some convincing Ahsoka that we would simply make the trade rather than fighting these pirates for Anakin, but she was learning patience the hard way.

As was I. "Any word back from Cid yet?" Echo pulled my out of my thoughts, drawing my eyes away from my cup of caf. I shook my head bleakly. "And you trust this bounty hunter?"

"Cid isn't a bounty hunter, Cid is more of a... Third party coordinator. And yes, all the info I've gotten in the past has been good. I haven't been betrayed yet." I gave him a sarcastic smile.

My private comm flashed and I jumped to me feet. "Might be Cid, I've got to take this." I didn't wait for his nod of acknowledgement as I made my way out of the mess hall, stepping into a quiet corner to answer my comm.

Cid appeared before me, sitting behind her desk, as usual. "You have the intel I asked for?" I asked, trying not to let myself sound too hopeful.

"Well, some of it. I've got a location. Not sure who the bounty hunter is but according to some chatter I picked up, the exchange will take place on the planet Karkaris. And soon."

My eyebrows raised at this information. Karkaris was in the Nilgaard sector, only a few parsecs away but we were due to meet with Master Skywalker's captor for an exchange and if we veered off course there was no way we'd make it on time. And, of course, there was the small matter of Karkaris being a separatist planet, but that was a whole other set of roadblocks.

"Alright. Thank you, Cid, I'll transfer your credits now."

She peered at me over her desk, uncharacteristically concerned. "Everything alright, meddler?" I smiled at the nickname she had given me when I fixed her broken dejarik table without her asking when we first met. She couldn't seem to wrap her head around why I would fix someone else's things for free.

I gave her a small nod now, feeling slightly reassured now that I knew Rex wasn't hopelessly lost to the galaxy. "Everything is fine Cid, thank you. Take care of yourself." I gave her a final smile and shut off the communicator, heading up to the bridge to discuss my new information with Ahsoka and Admiral Yularen.

***

"We don't know what we're getting into with this pirate business, and our fleet is severely depleted. We cannot split the fleet and go into separatist controlled space with no plan or backup. We'll simply have to conduct our arrangement, get General Skywalker back, and then we can intercept Captain Rex's location." I frowned at Admiral Yularen's words, hating the finality in his tone. He had already made up his mind.

"But my informant stated that the exchange would happen soon, and we need to be there when it happens."

His expression remained neutral as he stared at me and I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. "Alright. If you won't deploy any of your fleet, I'll take my own ship. I can't risk missing the exchange. You get Anakin and I'll head to Captain Rex's position. I'll rendezvous with you once I have him."

Not waiting for anyone's approval, I turned and stalked off the bridge, sighing deeply once I passed through the doors.

It's okay. It's just me versus one bounty hunter, how hard can this be?

***

Very hard, the answer was very hard!

"Flopsy, divert power to the thrusters and jam that ship's communications!" I shouted at my astromech, struggling to keep up my maneuvers as the bounty hunter shot rapid fire in our direction.

"Rex's thank you better be worth it," I grumbled as we took another hit, Flopsy immediately beeping its response at me. "No, I know he's my friend, but I am going into overtime here!" I joked, then sighed as I tried not to worry about his condition, whether he was safe and in one piece or not. "If this bounty hunter has laid a single kriffing finger on him they are gonna wish they had born a protocol droid." I narrowed my eyes at the ship in front of me, which was making its way to the planets surface below us.

Flopsy told me that the ship was landing at a port near what appeared to be a small separatist ship, meaning clankers. "I am really starting to wish I had some backup here." I complained as we landed the ship not too far from where the action would take place.

I told Flopsy to watch the ship and quickly headed down, stealthily moving over to where the transaction was taking place. I bit my lip as I watched the bounty hunter head down from his ship dragging a hovering carbonite slab behind him with a familiar form encased inside it. He headed to the centre where a seppy was standing, surrounded by a small platoon of droids, standard B1s with two rows of super droids behind them.

It did not look pleasant, but I knew I could handle it. My mind was more on which angle would be best to have all their fire directed away from Rex’s position, and quickly I made my way to the optimal point, slowly moving closer. The sleazeball separatist handed over a case of what I assumed to be spice over to the bounty hunter, and as he set the carbonite down, I made my move. Jumping down to my feet just behind the squad of droids, I took out three super droids with one slash, moving to another two before my moves were even registered.

The slower droids finally turned to me, firing immediately, drawing the attention of the separatist and the bounty hunter, who grabbed his spice and made for his ship, loyally calling out to his employer, “I believe our transaction is concluded!”

I moved through the droids and directly intercepted the seppy, who, predictably, dove for cover as he saw me approaching, dropping Rex where I could quickly drag him back to where the Aa’kua was waiting, Flopsy keeping her ready for takeoff. "It's just me saving everyone's kriffing skins." I mumbled under my breath, deflecting a blaster shot back and the droid who sent it.

I shoved the hovering carbonite slab up the ramp ahead of me, deflecting lasers at the base as I shouted up to Flopsy, “Get us out of here now!” I staggered up the surface as it moved to close, the ship humming excitedly as it moved from the ground.

The door latched shut and I shut my lightsaber off, attaching it to my hilt then moving to check on Rex. The small interactive pad on the side told me his vitals were being held stable, so I hurried to the cockpit to set us into hyperspace before I worried about him.

“Have you calculated the jump?” I fell into my seat and turned to the controls, diverting power to the rear shields and stabilizers as I felt the ship thunder around us. Those droids were relentless, two small fighters following us into the atmosphere. Flopsy beeped affirmatively at me, and I nodded, taking us higher so we could make the jump.

We made it out of the planet’s atmosphere, and I flipped the ship around in a violent one-eighty turn, firing on the droid fighters the moment they met my sights, obliterating them on impact. Huffing in satisfaction, I turned us back around, checking that all systems were a go before pushing the lever to launch us into hyperspace.

Once we were safely underway, I left the controls with Flopsy, heading back down to unlock the captain from his carbonite confines. I set the slab up vertically, moving to the sides and fiddling with the controls. I couldn’t read whatever language it was written in, but I had a guess as to what buttons corresponded to which controls, so soon enough I heard the hissing noise that meant I was successful.

“Ach–” I stepped back, the vapour clogging my throat as the carbonite dissipated. I heard a groan and a concerning thump, and the air cleared to reveal a crumpled Rex on the floor of the storage bay. I hurried to him, laying his head down on my leg and looking him over for any injuries. I took in a blaster wound in his side, the carbonite couldn’t have helped that.

"Rex? Rex? Easy there captain, you don't look too good." I stopped him from trying to sit up, he looked pale and feverish.

"C-commander Sayla?" His voice was hoarse, and he was shivering. This was not good.

"I'm here, I'm right here Rex." I tried to sound reassuring as I looked around, trying to recall where I had stuffed the deactivated medical droid I had aboard the ship.

"I can't see." He tried not to sound too panicked, but I could still feel it. Reassuringly I put my hand on his armoured shoulder.

"That’s alright, it’s only temporary. I think you have hibernation sickness, let's get you up on the bed and I'll activate the med-droid to have a look at you." I moved to carry him using the force but the moment he felt the pressure around him he protested.

“I can stand!” He protested, making me chuckle.

“You’re injured, and sick, don’t make me pull rank captain, just sit still for a minute.” I smiled as he grit his teeth, and quickly carried him using the force, keeping him still as I moved him to the small med-pod onboard. I set him in the bed and quickly searched for the med-droid, finding it folded and tucked away neatly in a corner.

I quickly pulled it open and clicked it on, but it turned on and frizzled out of life within moments, some of the wires in the back sparking as it died. I turned it over on the floor and observed the frayed wires, rolling my eyes in annoyance. “What happened?” The captain tried to keep his voice light.

“Droid’s wires are damaged, I have spares, give me a minute to go grab them.” I left him and the damaged droid and went to the small room I had filled to the brim with spare parts. I ignored the pile of metal scraps that tumbled to the floor as the door opened for me, stepping over the mess as I made my way to a back corner where all types and tangles of wires lay. I quickly found a colourful bundle that would do the trick and grabbed a spanner on my way to the med-pod. I rolled my eyes as I walked in, realizing he must have sat himself up when I was gone.

Flinging myself onto the floor I crossed my legs, beginning work on the droid. "I don't know why they had to take the whole fleet for Skywalker, but whatever." I grumbled to myself as I ripped out the damaged wiring impatiently.

"You forget, we clones were bred to be expendable."

"Don't say that. It's not true." I disagreed furiously, glaring into his unfocused eyes. "It's not. Not to anyone who knows you. I would gladly give my life for yours – or Fives, or Kix, or any other soldier, so don't you say that."

He said nothing, face incomprehensible as he stared ahead intently. Satisfied, I went back to work trying to replace the wiring as quickly as I could, trying not to think about the fact that I just told him I was willing to die for him.

I moved back with a triumphant huff as the droid finally buzzed to life. It stood slowly, then began scanning me before I redirected it. "That's the patient," I said, pointing at Rex. "Blaster wound and suspected hibernation sickness."

"Understood. I will begin scanning the patient and then select the best possible treatment." With that it forced him to lay down on the cot, then beginning its scans.

I got up and put away the tools and scrap parts before making my way to the door, figuring I'd check on Flopsy and the ship while the droid worked on Rex.

"Commander?" His voice stopped me just before I made it out of the room, and I leaned back in to respond to him.

"Yes, captain?"

"For what it's worth, I'd give my life for yours as well, sir." A small smile graced my lips at this, and I bowed my head to him respectfully, even though he couldn't see it.

"It's worth a lot more than you know, captain. Now rest up, I'll check in on you later." Finally, I managed to make my exit, thinking about his words on my way to the cockpit.

It's Rex, he'd sacrifice himself for any innocent. It doesn't mean anything special. It's just Rex being Rex. I knew this to be true, and yet I could not stop the flaming blush from reaching my cheeks or the nervous flipping of my stomach. He hadn't even done anything out of the ordinary for him and yet he had reduced me to a jittery mess.

Stars help me. I was screwed.

***

After checking that everything with the ship was doing fine, I switched on the ship's comm, switching to my desired channel.

"Nim, I'm glad to see you." Kix's image appeared in front of me, and his smile set me at ease. "Any luck with the info on Captain Rex?"

I nodded at him, anxieties rising to the surface as I thought about the state of the injured captain. "Yes, I have him, but he has hibernation sickness, and the kriffing nerf herder that stuck him in carbonite shot him first and I don't have any bacta to patch him with. I've activated the med-droid, but I don't know how much it can do with the little I have onboard, kriff, Kix why haven't you taught me more first aid skills?"

"Woah, Nim, calm down!" He laughed at my panic which only aggravated me farther.

"This isn't funny! It's your captain's life on the line." I crossed my arms at Kix with a small frown.

"Sorry Nim, I'm not laughing at you it's just... Take a breath." He smiled at me, and I lost my frown immediately, unable to stay angry with him. "Rex will be fine. Everything went smoothly on our end, and we have General Skywalker. We're making our way to the rendezvous coordinates and once we meet you there, I will personally make sure Rex has enough bacta to last him a lifetime."

I gave him a small appreciative smile, feeling much calmer than before. "Well, I'm enroute to you now so, I'll see you soon, I guess. You're certain he'll be alright until then?"

"Trust me, the captain's been through worse."

"Thanks, Kix."

"Not a problem Nimra."

***

I traded off Rex to Kix when I arrived at the hangar bay, then quickly made my way to where I knew I would find Anakin, on the bridge. “Nim!” Anakin squeezed my shoulder, giving me a warm smile as he greeted me, Ahsoka by his side. “Thank you for holding the fort while I was gone.”

“Of course, Master.” I returned his smile, relieved to see him back and completely unharmed.

“You know better than to call me that, Nim. How is Rex?”

“Well, he had a minor blaster wound, and he has hibernation sickness from the carbonite the bounty hunter stuck him in. Kix said he should be fine, but I’m going to go check on him in med-bay now. See how he’s enjoying his stay there.” I grinned devilishly. “You know how much he enjoys being stuck in bed rest.” Anakin gave a laugh at this, nodding.

“Alright, sounds good. Leave some teasing for me, I’ll come down once I’m done here.” I nodded at him and shared a quick smile with Ahsoka before heading back down to the med-bay. A small gaggle of clones, including Echo and Fives, were leaving the area as I was entering, no doubt having just been there to welcome back their devoted captain.

I smiled as I entered, taking in Rex’s familiar form on one of the cots near the wall. He was fast asleep. I drew closer, Kix immediately coming to join me, holo-pad in his hand. “How is he?”

“Resting. I’ve treated his blaster wound and giving him medicine for the carbon fever. He’ll be up and running by tomorrow.” Kix drew a chair and gestured to it. “Sit.”

“I’m fine Kix, injury free.” At his disapproving face I took a seat, frowning right back up at him.

“Yeah, I know.” He thrusted a ration bar in my face. “Eat.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a bite ruefully, trying not to show how hungry I really was. “Fine. But give me your holo-pad, I’m not going to sit here with nothing to do.” Kix grinned at this, handing it over before returning to one of his other patients. I finished the bar before taking turns working on my mission report and stealing glances and Rex’s unconscious form.

***

Voices reached me through a haze. I knew my eyes were closed but I was too tired to open them yet, reveling in the warmth of sleep that hadn’t come to me in so long.

"I don't think she's slept since you two went missing sir. I've never seen her like that before. She oversaw everything, made sure everyone was okay, but I don't think she was resting or eating right. I tried my best to keep an eye on her."

"Thank you, Kix."

"Of course, General." I heard Kix’s footfalls as he walked away, and slowly cracked my eyes open to see Anakin standing there, giving me an all to knowing look.

“I’m just – I just wanted to make sure he didn’t die on my watch.” I tried to ignore his smug look.

“Sure. Whatever you say.” He chuckled, patted me on the back, then left before I could protest whatever assumptions he was making in his head.

I adjusted myself in the uncomfortable chair, pulling out my holo-pad to continue filling out the report but ended up staring ahead, falling into my thoughts. I had befriended the members of this battalion so easily, we got along so well, but was I growing too attached? Was my connection to these clones affecting my judgement? Was it leading to something that might be wrong?

"Commander?" A voice jolted me out of my stupor, and I looked down to see Rex looking at me tiredly with a slightly surprised expression at seeing me there.

"Rex! I'm glad you're finally up – and you can see me!” I hated the way relief so heavily coloured my voice. Did I truly sound so desperate or was it just in my head? Feeling the need to say something lest I get consumed by my thoughts, I gave Rex my best winning smile, holding up my holo-pad. "I don't suppose you want to help me fill in my mission report?"

"I can assume you've only filled in your name and about half a sentence?" He raised a brow at me quizzically.

"That would be a safe assumption, yes. Although come to think of it, I may have forgotten to sign my name." I grinned widely at him.

He groaned as he sat himself up in bed, favouring his injured side as he moved. "I'm gonna need more pain meds." He half-joked.

"Can I pawn some off you?" At his dubious expression I raised my hands in mock surrender. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding... I can just get them off Kix, eliminate the middleman and all that." I laughed at his expression, my amusement subsiding as he became serious, holding my gaze.

“Thank you.” He said earnestly. “For coming for me.”

“You would do the same for me.” I gave him a serious nod before reverting back to sarcasm. “And if you really want to thank me you can help me fill out my report.”

[pedros-mustache]

the rising sun

summary: “be still, sad heart! and cease repining / behind the clouds the sun is still shining.” — henry wadsworth longfellow

word count: 2.8k

warnings: angst, discussion of depression/anxiety, general not-so-happy tone to the whole thing, some fluff thrown in there for good measure

a/n: to be honest, i almost didn’t post this. i’ve not been doing well the last week, and this fic is pretty indicative of my current mental state. i decided to upload it despite my reservations and embarrassment on the hope that this might give someone struggling just like a me a moment of peace. xoxo. ❤️

it’s raining when marcus comes home.

you sit on the living room’s padded window seat, plush blanket tangled around your legs, forehead pressed against the chill windowpane at your side. bloated raindrops slide down the glass, and you watch, halfheartedly willing one raindrop to reach the lip of the window before another. 

the narrow street below your window is empty. puddles gather on the red brick sidewalks, and the birch trees planted in small earthen squares along the road tremble with each sharp gust of rainy wind. it’s cold out. you can feel the chill through the window, but you don’t pull away.

you hear the front door shut and marcus toe his shoes off. his keys jingle as they drop to the catch-all bowl on the foyer table, and then he’s hurrying into the kitchen, shouting as he goes. you can’t see him from where you sit, but his voice carries through the small apartment. you blame the high ceilings and exposed brick walls. sound travels too easily in this space, and sometimes it's too much for you to bear. you sink lower on the window seat, shutting your eyes against the sound of his voice.

“hey! sorry i’m late. there was this—this thing at work, and then i had to get the groceries, but then i forgot about dinner—” he sighs heavily, places something on the kitchen island that crinkles. “whatever, it doesn’t matter. i’m home. d’you have a good day?”

you huff in response. the sound gets trapped in the blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders.

“i got chinese.” 

he’s close now, his voice dropped to an even timbre. you can feel him, feel the sudden shift of his mood when he enters the living room and sees you, curled up on the window seat like a pillbug caught in a storm. where he was unruffled before, on the verge of relaxing after a long day of work, he is now worried, concern rolling off him in crashing waves. 

you hate that you do this to him. 

“you okay, bug?”

opening your eyes, you tilt your head over your shoulder to look at him. you manage a weary smile, wavering around the edges, entirely unconvincing and pathetic. “mhm. just tired ‘s all. long day.”

marcus’s brow pinches. he puts his hands in his pockets, and the jacket around his shoulders tightens with the movement. “you’ve been tired a lot the last few days,” he says. his words are slow, calculated, like he’s dancing around the point.

you shrug, dancing around the point with him, a slow-footed, wary sort of dance. “i guess.” 

“are you sure you—” he stops talking, removes a hand from his pockets, drags his thumb over his lower lip as he stares at you. his brown eyes are warm, and his stare is intense. it’s as if he’s trying to peel back all of your layers with his eyes alone, each bat of his long eyelashes another layer closer to the most vulnerable places of your heart.

you sit up, suddenly nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. frowning, you brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “what? what are you staring at me for?” there’s more than a bite to your tone, and you wince at the harsh sound of your voice. 

he doesn’t deserve that.

turning your face away, you return your gaze to the puddle third from left of your front tire. it’s grown bigger, and your car’s reflection seems to flutter as wind pushes across the top of the pool of water.

“can i sit?”

you look from marcus to his outstretched hand to the empty space across from you on the seat. after your timid nod, he sits with another heavy sigh, his second of the night. you wonder how often you are the one to make him sigh like that.

he leans his head against the wall and watches as a bird swoops down from the roof ledge to a tree across the street. he sits in an awkward sort of fold, his legs too long to sit comfortably on the seat with you there as well. twisted at the waist, legs stretched to the side, he folds his hands in his lap and inhales deeply then exhales through his mouth.

your face softens as you wait for him to speak. you inhale too, mirroring the slow rise and fall of his chest with deep breathing of your own. the panic that’s gripped you all day begins to ebb. the blurry edges of your vision clears, and he comes into focus. for a moment, you allow yourself to study the lines of his neck, his sun-kissed skin, and strong jaw. he’s solid and firm in all the places you are not—physically, mentally, emotionally. 

your chest tightens again at the thought.

he shifts his gaze away from the cramped georgetown street. “you forget to breathe when you’re anxious.”

ducking your head, you nod. “i know.” with a sigh of your own, you meet his eyes through the tops of your lashes. “i’m sorry.”

“why are you apologizing?”

“well, i don’t… i mean—” you shake your head, caught off guard by his question and the earnest look on his face. why does he have to look at you like that? so open and honest and caring? he shouldn’t look at you like that, not when you’re like this. 

you study your knees, pushed tight against your chest. there’s a frayed thread on your pant leg. you pluck it off and drop it to the side. finally, you say, “i’ve been off the last few days, haven’t really been myself. i know i’m not fun when i’m like this…”

“not fun?” marcus scoffs as though offended, and your head snaps up to level him a glare. registering the look on your face, he lifts his hands in surrender. “wait a second—i wasn’t making fun. i just—” he tilts his head to the side. “baby, you don’t have to be fun all the time.”

your shoulders sag. you look away. you can’t look at him too long. he’s too good to you.

in the year and a half you’ve been with marcus, you’ve had your bad days. they come and go. you’ve taken to comparing your bad days to the ice-cream truck which wanders through your neighborhood from time to time. it’s never consistent, always appearing out of the blue after an extended absence, looking more and more worn down upon each new arrival. your bad days are like the neighborhood ice-cream truck.

marcus has seen you in your anxious moments: the afternoons where it hits you and suddenly you can’t breathe or think clearly and everything feels topsy-turvy. those moments you can handle yourself. you know what to do and how to bounce back without causing too much of a fuss.

he’s seen you in your depressed moments too: the evenings where all you want to do is curl in bed and never leave, your thoughts a swirling mess of perceived rejection and bleakness and despair. those moments you prefer to work through on your own, though he makes it abundantly clear he’s only an arm’s reach away. still, you know what to do and how to bounce back without causing too much of a fuss.

you don’t like to cause a fuss.

this week, though—fuck, this week has been bad, and you both know it.

from the moment you wake, it starts: muscle-gripping fear, racing heart, dry mouth, and weary limbs. you stumble through your morning routine, pushing it all down, down, down because you have to go to work. you have to do your job. life doesn’t stop just because you’re anxious.  

when you come home in the afternoons, the bed is waiting, cold and unmade. you sleep—sleep the worry away and the fatigue away. it’s all you can do to be ready for marcus to return from the city. he doesn’t need to see you like this, a lump of trembling hands and bone-deep exhaustion. 

this isn’t what he signed up for. 

for a week you’ve been hanging on by a thread, shoving him and everyone else in your path away because it’s what’s easiest. you can take care of yourself. no one needs the added weight of caring for you, least of all marcus. if you opened the door, let him have a peek inside, he’d know, he’d see—it’s too much. it’s better if you keep this part of yourself to yourself.

“bug?”

you pull your face away from your elbow. “yeah?”

“come here.” he opens his arms, and it’s an invitation you cannot decline. 

the transition from your side of the window seat to his is awkward. it’s a tangle of arms and legs in the narrow space, an elbow against his stomach, a grunt of pain, and a hurried whisper of apology. when you settle your back against his chest, his warmth pushes through the chill clinging to your skin. you’ve been sitting by the window too long. you turn your face to press your cheek against his shoulder, winding both of your arms around his bicep. you squeeze tight, inhaling his cologne and the raindrops still clinging to his jacket. 

“there.” his chest rumbles beneath you when he speaks. “that’s better.” 

“marcus, i—” 

he shushes you with a gentle whisper. “hold on. just breathe with me, okay?”

you swallow past the lump in your throat and nod against his arm.

inhale, exhale—you follow his lead.

your eyes drift shut. he feels good, safe and steady. 

unbidden, tears prick your eyes, and you are powerless to stop them. you push your face further against his arm to stem the sudden flow of tears. the taste of salt floods your mouth, and you sniff hard, dragging the back of one hand across your cheeks. marcus doesn’t say anything. he just drags his hand over your hair, his own cheek pressed to the crown of your head. he holds you tight, and you surrender to the weight of his arms around you, his body pressed against yours.

when the tears stop, you sit up to wipe your face. marcus drops his hand from your head to your back. his touch is smooth and gentle, and you laugh against the ridiculousness of it all.

“i’m sorry,” you say, dragging your sleeve under your nose. “i know you didn’t come home anticipating this.”

marcus is quiet for a moment. his palm spreads across the width of your lower back. you can feel the warmth of his skin perimate the thin cotton of your sleep shirt. “baby?” you turn your face to him. “you gotta stop apologizing.”

you swallow hard with a nod. “yeah, i know. i’m so—” he quirks an eyebrow, and you laugh despite yourself. “you’re right.”

“come here,” he says again. “lean back.”

you do as you're told, your head nestled against his shoulder. he slides his hands down your arms, a slow drag, until he can fit his fingers between yours and squeeze. he kisses your temple, and the hair on his cheek tickles your skin.

“i love you,” he whispers.

you smile—a genuine smile, small as it is. 

inhaling deeply, you decide to lay it all on the table. you love marcus. if he ever asked, you’d marry him in a heartbeat. but you’re tired of running from him when all he’s ever done is proven himself to be a gentleman with a heart of solid gold. he deserves to know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but it. even if it drives him away in the end.

“when i was a freshman in college,” you start, shifting your back against his chest. “i dated this guy. we were together for only a few months, but he was a real asshole.” the way marcus stiffens behind you, his arms tightening reflexively around your middle, warms your cheeks. his subtle display of protectiveness emboldens your story, and you continue with a clearer voice.

“i was really anxious back then, like every day. it was a constant battle between myself and my anxiety, and he hated it. one night we were on the phone and i was telling him about my day and he got really quiet and then he told me, ‘i can’t deal with your anxiety. it’s too much.’ i’ve never forgotten that.”

when marcus says nothing in response, you twist to face him, laying your hand flat against his chest. you can feel his heartbeat beneath your palm. it beats fast, a hurried gallop in his chest. his eyes dart back and forth between yours, his lips parted in something akin to shock. you don’t give him a chance to speak before you continue.

“marcus? please—please tell me you can deal with it. i don’t know what i’d do if you couldn’t.”

marcus’s face crumbles. with tears welling in his eyes, he lifts his hands to cup your face. “oh my god, baby,” he breathes, rolling his forehead over yours. “i’m so sorry.”

he kisses you. it’s short and sweet and perhaps another thread in his apology. you grip his wrist, holding him tight, willing him to stay—stay with you now and forever, until the sun no longer shines and the earth vanishes to dust. 

when you break apart, he skims his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks. “what a fucking loser,” he says, and you laugh, tossing your head back at the sheer vitriol lacing his words. it’s not often marcus gets angry. to see a red flush on his cheeks and frustration in his brow, all over some guy you haven’t thought about in years, it makes your heart flutter in the best possible way. “no, i mean it! god, what an asshole.” 

he sucks in a breath and catches your eyes. his thumb and forefinger move to grip your chin, a gentle hold but one that leaves you powerless to ignore anything he’s about to say. you steel yourself, lungs tight with anticipation.

“it—this—you.” he shakes his head. “it’s not something i deal with. i don’t deal with it. do you hear me? say you do.”

eyes misty, you nod. “i do. i hear you, marcus.”

“i want to take care of you. that’s why we’re together. we’re a team. teammates rely on one another—”

“marcus, i don’t watch sports.”

he smirks. “just humor me.” releasing his hold on your chin, he smooths his hand down the side of your face. “i want to help you. you don’t need to carry this all by yourself.”

“i just thought that—”

“look, all guys are idiots. if you’re feeling some type of way, you gotta tell me. i can’t read minds. but all guys aren’t assholes. i want to help you.”

you cover the hand on your cheek with your fingers and nuzzle your nose against his palm. “i love you.” 

“i love you more. really, i do. more than the stars in the sky and all the—”

you pull your face away with a grimace, holding up your hand to stop him. “okay, please, that’s too much. too sweet, too schmaltzy. try and preserve some of your dignity.” 

marcus laughs, a deep, hearty sound that warms you to the center of your being. he winds an arm around the small of your back to draw you close, his lips descending to the curve of your neck. he peppers your skin with kisses—warm ones, wet ones, gentle ones—until you push at his shoulders. he drops back against the wall, chest heaving and eyes glistening with mirth.

you catch your lower lip in your teeth and shake your head. “you hopeless romantic you.”

“guilty as charged.” 

sliding out from between his legs, you drop to the floor. “you said you got chinese?”

“yeah, but it might be a little cold by now.”

you offer him your hand. “that’s okay. i’m hungry.”

marcus slides his fingers between yours. “i’ll warm it up then.”

as he leads you to the kitchen, your bare feet padding behind his socked ones, you catch a glimpse of the world outside. it’s no longer raining. the clouds have parted, revealing a bright sun. the sun’s rays drench the street in the warm glow of sunset, all orange and pale yellow and dusky red. you smile and lean against marcus’s arm as he sets about warming dinner in the microwave. he follows your eyeline to the window and throws an arm around your shoulders.

“do you want to go on a walk after dinner?”

looking up, you grin. “yeah, that would be nice.”

“the rain never stays forever.”

he’s not talking about the weather, and you both know it. you squeeze his hand.

“no, i guess it doesn’t.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Unfettered - part 2 - previous parts: on ao3 or tumblr part 1

It’s time. Come back.

Awareness came slowly and fitfully.

His body felt heavy, weighed down - it was as if his spirit had gone roaming freely and returned only reluctantly, sinking back into the skin and bone and flesh that bound it, the return voluntarily but begrudging, like an ox submitting to the yoke or a donkey to its bridle. There were times when he was there, awake but unable to get up the strength even to open his eyes, only barely aware of the world around him in the murmur of voices, the smell of food, the consistent feeling of spiritual energy being transferred into his body. There were times he was not awake at all.

One day, he heard a child laugh.

That was strange enough to catch his attention – it had been a long time since there were children here in the place where he slept, a place so familiar to him that he could feel where he was in his bones.  It had been even longer since there were children who laughed.

It’s time. Wake up.

He did not wake all at once. It was a gradual process, slow – he had to struggle against the infinite heaviness of his eyelids, the sopor that kept trying to steal him back into the dark, but he did struggle. He tried, he strained, he pushed, he forced.

He summoned the rage that was his birthright and said to his body, we have been friends these many years, I have honed you as I did a beloved blade, you will not stand in my way in this.

He woke.

A child was laughing.

“Be careful, A-Song,” a voice, unfamiliar to him but gentle, said. It was male, young, and kind. He thought perhaps he had expected someone else. “Remember, you must not disturb the array.”

“I won’t touch it, gege,” the child said cheerfully. “I’ll be good, and then A-Ling will come visit us!”

“When he can, A-Song. It may not be for a while, because of the war…”

A weight settled on his chest at the word – war – and he almost lost his will to wake, not wanting to return to everything that word entailed: the pressure of all the expectations that rested on his shoulders, the stress and fear of the decisions he was forced to make, the guilt at each life lost and the butchers’ bills that piled up on his desk, the exhaustion and pain that followed the slog of life at the battlefront, adrenaline melting away to leave him feeling vacant and empty…

Duty was duty, though. Even in war.

Especially in war.

He forced his eyes open, staring at the ceiling for long moments as the noises of a child playing continued around him, the soft voice alternatively praising and gently chiding him. After a while, his gaze stabilized enough for him to recognize that above him was his own ceiling in his own room in his own home.

He could always tell, thanks to the drawings right above his face – his brother had once insisted on sitting on his shoulders while he stood on the bed so that he could reach the ceiling to carve something into the wood and stone. Something that would make him smile every morning that he opened his eyes, his brother claimed, his own eyes curved into a smile of his own, and he had never been able to resist his little brother anything that would make him happy.

He swallowed several times, wetting his throat, and asked in a voice little better than a rasp, “How goes the war?”

He meant where is my brother, is he well, is he whole, he meant what has happened to my sect, he meant what has happened to me. But duty called, and so he asked instead – how goes the war.

It helped, he supposed, that the words were familiar on his tongue, even as his throat and lips ached the strain of having to speak for the first time in what must have been a while. How goes the war – it had been his watchword for years now, all throughout the Sunshot Campaign and even before, the first question in the morning and the last question at night. How goes the war.

“Gege! Gege!” the child shrieked. “He said something!”

“No, I – but…did… – Sect Leader Nie…?” The unfamiliar voice was deeply surprised, almost shockingly so – how long had he been asleep? “Sect Leader Nie, did you say something? Please confirm.”

Sect Leader Nie.

Yes, that was how they called him. That was who he was: Sect Leader Nie, Chifeng-zun. 

Nie Mingjue.

He had forgotten it, for a moment, the name and the weight of it, all the responsibilities that went with it, but now he remembered.

Nie Mingjue struggled to force himself up on his elbows, trying to look further around the room – it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, harder than moving through waist-deep muck through a swamp, which he’d also done, more than once.

As he’d expected, there was a man there, and a child. Both were unfamiliar to him, he thought, even if he did not entirely trust his memory at the moment. They were both gaping at him.

Well, gaping at his general direction, in the case of the man. He was dressed in white, like the Lan sect did, but the narrow band of white that they had in common encircled his eyes, not his forehead – he was blind.

No, Nie Mingjue was sure of it now: this man was totally unfamiliar to him.

The child was, too, but that was less of a surprise, given that he was only two or three at the utmost, the age children changed the most, and after all Nie Mingjue had been away fighting the wars for several years; it was reasonable not to recognize him. 

But a man he did not recognize, here, in his own bedroom..?

“The war,” he rasped again, and swallowed to try to clear his throat. That was the only thing he could think of that might explain it. “My brother…?”

“Oh,” the man said, not especially intelligently. “The Pallbearer isn’t here – he’s away. There’s a war.”

The – what?

Nie Mingjue narrowed his eyes and forced them to focus, realizing that what he had taken for a man was little more than a teenager, certainly younger than twenty. Old enough to fight in the war, regrettably, but he supposed the blindness might keep him from it. It was sometimes hard to tell, with cultivators, how much they would be impacted by something like that.

“My brother,” he insisted. He wasn’t dead; what did he care about where some pallbearer - technically, the phrase meant ‘virtuous mourner’, or possibly ‘person whose virtue is in their mourning’, but either way it was a strange appellation - was? What he wanted was – “My brother.”

The child had been hiding behind the young man in white, but he popped his head around to stare at him, tugging at the young man’s robes. “Isn’t he Nie-er-ge’s brother?”

“Yes, he is,” the man said automatically, then flushed, ducking his head. He was very handsome, almost pretty, and at some point when Nie Mingjue didn’t feel like drowning in his own exhaustion he would spare a bit more time to wondering why he had been left here at his bedside, whether it was because he was the only one who could be spared or if it was for his own protection or both. “Ah, forgive me, Sect Leader Nie, of course you wouldn’t – your brother is away at the moment, but I will send him word at once. He’ll be so happy to hear that you’ve awoken.”

Nie Mingjue let himself slide back down from his elbows, his most severe worry assuaged – Nie Huaisang was alive, he was fine, he was safe. That was good.

Now he could concern himself with the war, he supposed. Although…

“Wasn’t the war…over?” he asked the ceiling. He thought he remembered that it was, the vague memories of seeing Wen Ruohan’s body hit the floor burnt into his brain as if with a brand – it was so different from what he had dreamt of for so many years that he thought it must be true. And with Wen Ruohan dead, his sons dead, who would continue to fight? Some small pockets of the truly devoted, maybe, but surely not the bulk of the forces…?

He didn’t remember. There was something there just beyond his memory, and he was abruptly struck with the feeling that he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember.

There was a whisper of cloth, the man beside him shifting from side to side in awkwardness. Probably trying to decide if he should stand here and answer questions or go to send out the alert about his reawakening at once.

“You are correct, Sect Leader Nie,” he finally said. “The Sunshot Campaign ended…it’s a new war.”

A new war, Nie Mingjue thought, and closed his eyes for a brief moment to stave off the pain of it. It wasn’t that he hadn’t discussed the possibility that something like that would happen with his sect’s elders during his war counsels, the fact that wrecking the established system of the Five Great Sects might lead to a power vacuum and more fighting, but the alternative of submitting to Wen tyranny had been worse; they had had no choice but to hope that their worst fears would not come to pass.

In vain, it seemed.

“I should – go tell someone,” the young man said. “I’ll go –”

“Go,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Return after, and then you can…what’s your name, anyway?”

“Xiao Xingchen,” the young man said. “Disciple of Baoshan Sanren…you wouldn’t have heard of me. Your brother took me in after I lost my eyes.”

Baoshan Sanren? Another disciple of the immortal mountain? Surely Nie Mingjue would have heard of something like that happening – it would have been the talk of the cultivation world, ongoing war or no. But he hadn’t heard anything, and this Xiao Xingchen fellow didn’t expect him to. And that meant…

“How long have I slept?” he asked. No, not asked. Demanded.

“Oh, I definitely can’t answer that one,” Xiao Xingchen said, sounding genuinely distressed. “I’m going to go get someone who can.”

He dashed out of the room in a swirl of white that Nie Mingjue saw out of the corner of his eye. A moment later, he heard a small shuffling sound and, with a slight groan, lifted himself back up again to look at the child, who had lingered even after his guardian had departed.

The boy was wearing Nie colors in familiar styles – Nie Mingjue thought it might even be some of Nie Huaisang’s old clothes, which he’d found himself unable to throw away even after they’d long been outgrown. He’d ultimately ordered them to be stored in hopes of preserving it for the next generation - his son, or maybe his nephew.

The shape of the boy’s face wasn’t remotely Nie, though, so he thought perhaps he might be an orphan or something. Another person his brother had taken in, perhaps, the way he had the blind Xiao Xingchen?

Had his brother been forced to run the sect while he slept? He must have. That had been what Nie Mingjue had always intended for him, wanting his brother’s cool head to guide the next generation, but he had not thought that it would be so soon…he thought he would have time to help guide Nie Huaisang into being sect leader, to ease the way, to show him how things were done and what was important. To let him become the wonderful sect leader Nie Mingjue had always been sure he would be, the one their sect deserved –

He’d wanted to make the transition less abrupt than his own elevation to the position at his father’s death, to make sure the position of sect leader didn’t consume Nie Huaisang as it had Nie Mingjue, who didn’t have any hobbies or pastimes except for spoiling his little brother, Nie Mingjue who barely remembered what or who he was outside of the work he did.

He’d wanted to leave Nie Huaisang to govern their sect through a world of peace, not war.

Clearly he’d failed.

Despite these gloomy thoughts of his, he tried to smile at the child. “Hello,” he said. “Your name is – A-Song?”

The child nodded, edging closer – closer, but not too close, and the reason for his hesitation was clearly, upon further inspection, that he didn’t want to cross over onto the lines of the complicated array painted onto the ground around the bed. Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen it before, and he didn’t recognize it.

“What’s that for?” he asked, nodding at the softly glowing lines, which he could feel were full of spiritual power.

“It’s to make you feel better,” A-Song answered promptly in the know-it-all tone of a child who had clearly asked a similar question in the past. “Nie-er-ge repaints it all by himself every week, Xiao-gege helps keep it running, and I help, too!”

“You do?”

“Yeah! I’m the – the – I make it less boring!”

“Ah, I see! You’re the entertainment? That’s a very important job.”

A-Song nodded so rapidly that Nie Mingjue was slightly worried his head would come tumbling off his shoulders, and he had to suppress a smile at the sight. He’d always liked children, and this one seemed…strangely familiar, for all that Nie Mingjue was sure A-Song wasn’t a Nie.

“What’s your surname?” he asked, and A-Song frowned, scuffling one foot behind the other. “Don’t you know?”

“I know!” A-Song exclaimed. “It’s Jin! I’m Jin Rusong!”

Nie Mingjue could feel his eyes going wide in surprise, surprise and even shock that stabbed deeply into him. Ru- was the next generation’s name for the Jin sect, following after Zi- for the current generation and Guang- for the previous one – there had been much discussion of that towards the end of the last war, as it had been a clear insult framed as a compliment when Meng Yao had been offered the name of Jin Guangyao so shorty after the Nightless City.

Meng Yao -

The Nightless City, Wen Ruohan, Meng Yao…

Nie Mingjue remembered.

How could he not? In his memory, it had been only a few weeks before.

They had been mopping things up in the aftermath of Wen Ruohan’s death, and Nie Mingjue had been absent without leave from the medical tent more often than not, unable to refuse the calling of his duty even though his health (and any number of his subordinates) demanded he rest and recover. It hadn’t been easy: his mind had still been fuzzy from the aftereffects of the torment he’d suffered in and after Yangquan, the torture on the way to Wen Ruohan’s palace and again within it. The dizziness had impeded his ability to work, causing him to lose track of time or to grow abruptly distant and forgetful.

At the time, it had seemed that everything he remembered was unreliable – he’d thought, at first, that Meng Yao had done certain terrible things while he was in the Sun Palace, truly terrible and unforgivable things, the sorts of things that would make Nie Mingjue obligated to denounce him and Meng Yao worthy only of execution no matter what his good deeds might have been. But Meng Yao had said he was misremembering, that it hadn’t happened that way at all, that his mind was damaged from the torture and the fight with Wen Ruohan, and Lan Xichen had vouched for Meng Yao with all sincerity.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t been sure at first, had been so certain that he was right, that he remembered correctly and that Meng Yao was simply lying to him, but they had both seemed so sincere…and in the end Nie Mingjue hadn’t really wanted to believe that Meng Yao would do things like that anyway. He hadn’t wanted to think that someone he trusted would do that, that he’d so misjudged him. And that had made it – not easy, no, but it had made it make sense to accept their version of events over his own, even if it made him sick and anxious to think that his mind was so unreliable and untrustworthy.

Still, accepting it had meant that Nie Mingjue could agree to swear brotherhood with Lan Xichen and Meng Yao, as they both wanted so very much. It meant he could congratulate Meng Yao when he received the letter indicating that he would soon be his father’s recognition and the name Jin Guangyao. It meant that he could invite him to dinner at his camp to raise a glass together in honor of his accomplishment, to wish him good fortune and the best of luck for his new life.

It meant that when, in the middle of their dinner together, the wonderful news came that Nie Fengjun and Nie Xiaopeng had survived their injuries at the Nightless City, the ones that had kept them bedridden for so long getting infusions of spiritual energy and being fed drugs to keep them asleep so that they didn’t tear their throats open again by trying to talk, he could smile at Meng Yao – no, Jin Guangyao, he had tried very hard to remember to call him that and had still mostly failed – and tell him with joy that there were two deaths he no longer had on his conscience. 

He could ask him to wait a while when he went to talk to them, promising to return soon.

It meant that he could take a few steps towards the door, Baxia far away on her stand and not in his hand, his back unguarded against the man who had sworn before all the world to be his brother.

It meant that he could feel the cold string of the garotte when it settled over his throat and pulled tight, cutting off his air – that he could hear the humming of a Lan battle-song in his ear, the spiritual energy that he had been freely sharing with Meng Yao only moments before suddenly turned against him and starting to riot inside of him – the weakness inherent in his blood, the ancestral Nie tendency towards qi deviation, abruptly pressed upon and galvanized from within –  

If you yell, the first person through the door will be your brother and I will gut him like a fish, Meng Yao had hissed in his ear, and Nie Mingjue had stopped struggling for just a moment, horrified by the thought.

Horrified at being attacked by someone who knew his most dangerous weaknesses.

By someone he trusted.

The pause had been a mistake, of course. There’d been poison on the garrote, he thought, and the battle song and his rioting qi had let it in easier than it might have otherwise.

Meng Yao really was a perfect assassin.

But why me, why now, I don’t want to go so soon, I haven’t even had a chance to live yet, he remembered thinking, more fear and hurt than anger, and then there was nothing but darkness.

And now –

And now there was a child called Ru-, the next generation down from Zi-, and he was already two or three of age.

“How long have I slept?” he demanded, struggling to sit up. “How long has it been? Huaisang!”

How long have I abandoned you?

Xiao Xingchen ran back into the room not long after, looking horrified by Nie Mingjue’s burst of temper, pointless and impotent as it was. “Sect Leader Nie, please calm yourself,” he exclaimed. “I’ve already sent word out, and I’m sure your brother will be here soon. Please, stop moving – don’t damage the array…!”

Nie Mingjue forced himself to calm, his fingers digging into the bedding as he fought to control his temper –

Now is not the time.

– but he finally managed with a few deep breaths to stop feeling as if he was drowning in dark thoughts, in fears, in horror at himself and what he had inadvertently allowed, at what he had lost.

A few breaths later, and he stopped struggling.

At that point, it occurred to him that something was strange.

Based on his experience with being injured, and with his warlike sect he had plenty of that, Nie Mingjue would have expected that a fit like the one he had just had would have meant that he’d be swarmed by doctors. That was what was usual for this sort of situations, a giant bevy of doctors always just a few steps away, standing at the ready to force opinions down his throat about what he should and shouldn’t be doing – that had been what it had been like with his father, at least at first, and then later on it had been something he had been forced to accustom himself to as sect leader.

(First rule of being sect leader: don’t get knocked unconscious if at all possible. Not because the sect won’t manage without you, but because you’ll have to deal with doctors fussing at you for ages thereafter.)

Strangely enough, though, this time the doctors didn’t come. It was only Xiao Xingchen, dropping down to survey the array with his fingers, murmuring and infusing it with bright and pure spiritual energy that Nie Mingjue could feel soaking into his meridians, into his bones and muscles and bones.

Presumably this was the reason his body had not atrophied, in the – it must have been years since he –

He took another deep breath.

“Forgive me,” he said to Xiao Xingchen, and then again to Jin Rusong, who was hiding behind something. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Jin Rusong said with a great deal of grace, and probably too much equanimity for someone his age. “I don’t mind. It happens.”

To so easily disregard such a show of temper suggested that the boy had either had a hard early life or very calm parents, or maybe both. Nie Mingjue did not like to think of it, although he himself had been quickly inured to such things, after his father…

Best not to think about that. Best not to think about how it might have – what might have happened to him, after Meng Yao’s surprise attack.

(He hoped that he had succumbed to the poison or the suffocation instead of the qi deviation, since Baxia had, he hoped, remained intact; he could not be sure of it, since the assassin had been Meng Yao, who had known how best to hurt him. He hoped that he did not linger - did not lose himself to rage - did not have to be put down - that Nie Huaisang had not had to make the choices he himself had long ago had to make.)

“You didn’t call for any doctors?” Nie Mingjue asked Xiao Xingchen, trying not to think about those foul memories and the dark suspicions that swirled in his mind.

“I have some medical skills,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Not…many, and not as many as I used to have, but some, if you’d like me to check you over?”

“I’m not concerned for me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. He’d propped himself up against the headboard, an activity that had drained most of his remaining energy. “I’m just – why didn’t you call any doctors?”

“Ah,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I see.”

“I’m glad that you understand,” Nie Mingjue said, eliding to mention the matter of sight. They were not on such familiar terms that he could make a joke over it, and it was clear from Xiao Xingchen’s occasional if very graceful clumsiness that the blindness was new. “Would you also like to elaborate?”

“Sect Leader Nie is off-limits to anyone without permission to enter,” Xiao Xingchen said, folding his hands in front of him. “Especially in the event that you wake up.”

“I understand,” Nie Mingjue said, and he did.

He had had some time to think about what had happened to him back then, about the timing of those two survivors from the Nightless City waking up and Meng Yao’s sudden attack – he still didn’t have any answers, didn’t understand why Meng Yao turned against him so suddenly, but he had his suspicions.

Suspicions - and regrets.

If he hadn’t chosen to believe Meng Yao over the evidence of his own eyes and ears, would he have ended up like this, leaving Nie Huaisang alone for years on end?

There wasn’t any point to that line of thinking, though. Might as well say that if Nie Mingjue hadn’t been conditioned for years and years by his sect to have a mortal fear of his own qi, filling him with terror that one day he would become like his father – sick, with a mind full of hallucinations tormenting him and leading him astray – then maybe he wouldn’t have been so ready to disregard his own perception in favor of another’s, and of course there was no one to blame for that.

“Your brother will be here soon,” Xiao Xingchen said. “And once he is, I’m sure he’ll want the doctors to look you over. It’s only, you understand, without him to supervise, he doesn’t – he –”

“He doesn’t trust anyone,” Nie Mingjue said, and felt a pang of grief. Nie Huaisang had always trusted more readily than he had, the extroverted younger brother to his introverted and even misanthropic elder. The differences between them had in large part been caused by Nie Mingjue’s elevation to sect leader – too soon, too fast – and the discomfort and distance that created between him and those he thought had been his friends. And now, to his regret, the position would have done its work on Nie Huaisang as well. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure if you do,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He trusts – quite a few people, I’d say. There’s his people in the sect, of course, his cousins and deputies and all that, but he’s also on very good terms with quite a lot of the cultivation world: Sandu Shengshou, Yiling Laozu, Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun…almost all the important people, really.”

Nie Mingjue noted the absence of Jin Guangyao’s name or title.

Good.

“It’s just – you’re very important to him. More than you might think.”

“I raised him,” Nie Mingjue said. “From the time he was a child, he was my only family. The only things I had in life were my sect and him, and even my sect I wouldn’t have placed above him, and he knew it – I think I understand my importance to him. It’s the same for me, with him.”

“Perhaps,” Xiao Xingchen said, looking wistful. “Perhaps. That does explain rather a lot, I think.”

Nie Mingjue made himself more comfortable. “Who’s the child?” he asked. “He said he was surnamed Jin, but I assume the Jin sect is who we’re at war with?”

“You’re very perceptive,” Xiao Xingchen remarked. “How did you know?”

“The seeds of a new war can be found in the end of the last one,” Nie Mingjue said. “It would have always been the Jin sect. I’m surprised that it actually came to a head so soon, that’s all – they’ve always preferred being subtle and sly, politicking to outright fighting. I wouldn’t have thought they’d declare open war.”

“Why do you assume they were the ones who’d declare war?”

Because of who was left behind, Nie Mingjue thought. Lan Xichen who tries to see the good in everyone, Jiang Cheng who is insecure about what he can and cannot be, Wei Wuxian with his armies of the dead that he so very clearly never wanted…and my brother, who knows better.

My brother, who loves peace and hates war the way only a child born into the thick of it would; my brother, who’s so terribly clever underneath all his laziness; my brother who knows that war is fought as much in the hearts of men as on the battlefield –

No, he wouldn’t be the one to declare war.

Not even for me.

“Weren’t they?” he asked.

“Well, yes,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Although in fairness, they were provoked.”

Nie Mingjue was sure they were. His brother, probably, or maybe Wei Wuxian – they were good at provocation. They could find something that even the Jin sect couldn’t tolerate.

From the way Xiao Xingchen turned his head towards Jin Rusong, an instinctive gesture for all that he couldn’t see the boy, it might have something to do with him. A small child surnamed Jin, and yet embarrassed to admit it…there was a story there that he would eventually need to learn.

Just as he would eventually need to ask the practical questions – questions like who’s leading the war effort, since Jiang Cheng was good at battle but shit at strategy, Wei Wuxian who was too reckless and reliant on flashy tactics that wore him out, Lan Xichen who was better as a courier than a general, Lan Wangji who was too independent, a lone wolf who’d never learned how to compromise enough to join a team, how are we paying for it, the eternal question of supply even more critical for three weakened Great Sects when set against the richest of them all, and of course how can I help.

But he was tired, and did not ask. He would gather the energy for war later. 

For now, he would be satisfied with something simpler, more straightforward: his brother’s well-being, confirmed not merely with words but by his own eyes, which he really ought to learn to trust.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before there was a noise outside the door, and Xiao Xingchen brightened in evident relief. “He’s here! A-Song, come with me, come say hello –”

They went out, and a moment later, the door opened and Nie Huaisang walked in.

Attuned as Nie Mingjue was to movement, that was the first thing he noticed: that his brother walked differently than he had before. It was more purposeful, striding rather than ambling, sharp, with as little wasted movement as possible – angry, always angry, but contained. It was not at all what he thought of when he thought of Nie Huaisang, who was usually more aimless and carefree, limbs tumbling everywhere; it was far more similar to the way Nie Mingjue used to carry himself, seemingly relaxed but in fact on guard against the world at all moments.

Nie Huaisang’s face, too, was different than Nie Mingjue remembered it being: it was thinner, sharper than it had been, with narrowed eyes and lips pressed together, his whole demeanor distrusting and forbidding. The last bits of baby fat had melted away, taking with it the impression of softness and tenderness that he had once exuded, the lazy and indolent air that had made him seem younger than he was.

No longer was he the feckless young man the Nie Mingjue had so carefully protected from the horrors of the world, and the thought sent a pang of pain through Nie Mingjue’s heart.

And yet, when Nie Huaisang walked into the room, looking irritated and exhausted, and his gaze fell upon the bed where Nie Mingjue had lain for longer than he cared to think about, when he saw Nie Mingjue propped up and awake, when their eyes met for the first time –

It all melted away, the child he had held in his hands abruptly recognizable once more.

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang wailed, and threw himself forward into Nie Mingjue’s waiting arms, heedless of the array that Xiao Xingchen has so worried himself over, heedless of the shocked expression on both Xiao Xingchen and Jin Rusong’s faces, heedless any residual injuries in his urgency. “Da-ge!”

All the questions Nie Mingjue had, and he had a lot – who is the Pallbearer what is the war who is fighting who have we lost what happened to me what happened to you – dashed out of his head at once.

There was only one question that mattered – are you safe – and the answer to that was in his arms. He clutched his baby brother to his chest with all his greatly diminished strength, tears springing to his eyes just as they filled Nie Huaisang’s, and they wept with joy to see each other again.

It’s time. At last.

[weighty-ghosts]

‘Wondering’ (wolfstar)

Wondering, by weightyghosts

“It’s late summer before their sixth year at Hogwarts, and one afternoon, Sirius, James, and Peter meet a boy their age sitting in a tree, reading a book. This boy might just be the missing piece in their lives- particularly for one of them.”

Rating: General

Word count: 2202

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: May 2, 2021

Warnings: Brief description of scar

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31049291

       Whoosh!

“Sirius!” Peter whines, after almost falling off his broom, “Stop throwing it so hard at my head! I can’t catch it!”

“Sorry, Pettigrew,” Sirius snickers. He flies, if one can call it that when moving so languidly, over to where James is observing the scene from his own broom. “Come on,” he says to Peter, “Go grab it and we’ll play again. James will be keeper this time.”

“Why me?” James asks, frowning at Sirius. James is a chaser, always.

Peter pretends not to hear Sirius whisper, “Because I don’t think I can stop myself throwing the quaffle at his head.”

He groans loudly, then groans again when Sirius and James don’t react to it, busy now discussing the merits of the various quidditch positions. He turns his broom around to go look for where his old quaffle has disappeared to in the thick trees surrounding the meadow they play in. He’s moving a large leafy branch out of his way, when he almost gets smacked in the head again with his own ball.

“Oh, sorry!” A voice says quickly, and an apologetic face appears as a boy about their age lowers the quaffle, “Almost knocked me out of the tree,” he laughs softly, nodding at the ball that he holds out to Peter, “I’m guessing you want this back?”

Peter knows he’s staring, and that his mother would be very unhappy with him, but he can’t help it; this boy is sitting in a ginormous tree that’s at least forty feet high, in a cozy spot where two branches meet, with a book in his lap, looking like this is a regular afternoon for him.

Peter glances around and doesn’t see a broom anywhere. He’s wondering how this boy got up here- when he freezes. He doesn’t even breathe as he looks at this stranger who’s now tilting his head at Peter in confusion, and Peter is panicking. Did he just stumble upon a muggle? Is Peter going to get sent to Azkaban for flying on a broom in front of a muggle and breaking the Statute of Secrecy? Surely the Ministry wouldn’t send a fifteen-year-old to the dementors, right? Right?

Peter lets out a little squeak and zooms backwards as fast as he can, banging the back of his head against a small branch in the process.

James and Sirius are waiting for him when he exits the tree-line, still talking with their heads close together, but they turn when they hear him.

“Oi, where’s the quaffle, Pete?” James asks, pointedly looking at Peter’s empty hands that are gripping onto his broom for dear life.

Sirius nods at Peter’s messy head, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “Why do you have so many leaves in your hair?”  

“There’s- there’s a boy!” Peter stutters out.

James and Sirius glance at each other, then fly closer to Peter until their brooms are almost knocking together.

“What do you mean a boy?” James questions, “Where?”

“In the tree!”

“There’s a boy in the tree?” Sirius’ voice is laced with disbelief, “Did you hit your head Pete?”

“No! Well, yes, but it’s true!”

“Pete, what exactly did you see?” James asks. He peeks over Peter’s shoulder and squints, as if he believes he’s capable of seeing through vegetation if he just tries hard enough.

“In the tree!” Peter repeats, “He was holding the quaffle and just sitting there! In the tree! And,” he gulps, then leans in closer to his friends, “I didn’t see a broom. He must have climbed up there.”

Sirius narrows his eyes. “You think he’s a muggle?”

“I-”

“If I were a muggle-” The three boys whip their heads around in the direction of the voice wafting through the tree line, “-Don’t you think I would have been quite taken aback to see a person floating on a broomstick forty feet in the air?”

Sirius, James, and Peter look at each other for a moment, before deciding at the same time to burst through the trees, coming to a dead stop in front of the stranger who’s still holding their quaffle.

“Blimey,” James blurts, “There really is a boy in a tree.”

The boy’s eyes are alight with amusement, but he has a shy smile playing on his lips, as if he wants to laugh but doesn’t think he’s allowed to.

Peter keeps a good distance away from him, then starts to ask, “How did you get up h-”  

“How do we know you’re not a muggle?” Sirius interrupts. He takes in the boy’s appearance; frayed jeans, long sleeve tee with a vinyl cover that’s been sun-bleached beyond recognition, and light golden brown hair that matches his eyes-

Sirius jolts when he realizes those eyes are staring back at him. He purposefully scowls in suspicion at this potential muggle, though, for some reason he can’t stop staring at the boy’s cheeks that have turned adorably pink.

“I don’t think muggles even know the word muggle,” the boy responds, speaking to a spot near Sirius’ shoulder.

“Where’s your wand, then?”

“Sirius, don’t be a prat,” James chides, punching his arm lightly, “Why’re you interrogating him?”

“I just think it’s interesting,” Sirius explains, returning James’ punch in kind, “Meeting someone who claims to be a wizard and looks about our age but doesn’t go to Hogwarts.”

The boy’s flush darkens and he looks away uncomfortably. As he does, his collar pulls down to reveal the top of a nasty red scar that runs vertical along his neck, stopping just below his left earlobe.

“What’s that from?” Sirius asks right away, his suspicion dissipated as curiosity takes over. The boy’s hand instinctively flies to his neck to cover it up.

“Sirius, cut it out,” James rolls his eyes, then turns to the boy and extends his hand, “Ignore him, he’s a prat. I’m James Potter, and the prat who doesn’t understand boundaries is Sirius Black, and that’s Peter Pettigrew.”

“Oh,” the boy glances uncertainly at the three of them, then stares at James’ hand as if expecting James to pull it back, but he doesn’t, so the boy tentatively reaches out and shakes it. “I-I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Cool! Want to play quidditch with us?”

“Oh,” Remus says again, genuinely surprised at the offer. He looks down at the quaffle in his hands, then holds it out to James with a frown on his face. “That's alright, I don’t have a broom.”

“Pete,” James turns to address him, “Can’t Remus here borrow your brother’s?”

“Oh, no that’s-”

“Of course!” Peter interjects Remus’ protest, “I’ll grab it now.” Peter dashes away, apparently excited by this task set out to him.

“That’s settled then,” James declares, “Pete lives close by, we've been staying with him for the week.”

“That’s nice,” Remus offers, a little awkwardly.

“So, come on!” James starts bouncing up and down on his broom in excitement, and Sirius finds it endearing how enthusiastic James gets about making new friends. “Let’s wait on the ground for Peter! You know how to play quidditch, right? And how did you get up here? Are you going to climb down?”

Remus meets Sirius’ gaze, silently asking if this is what his friend is like all the time. Sirius grins and shrugs at him, and Remus returns it with a shy smile.

“I know how to play quidditch,” Remus answers, “But I’m not very good. And yes, I climbed up here, I come here a lot. I like climbing trees.”

That blush returns to Remus’ cheeks, turning the spattering of freckles on his nose and cheekbones a reddish brown. Sirius doesn’t understand why he can’t seem to focus on anything other than those freckles.

“You shouldn’t climb down though,” he finds himself saying, “That doesn’t sound safe. I can give you a lift.”

Sirius feels James’ questioning stare on the side of his head, but then James shrugs charitably and leaves them with a quick, ‘See you down there, mates.’

“Alright,” Remus slowly agrees, his face as pink as ever, “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Sirius dismisses, flipping his hair over his shoulder. He scoots forward a bit on his broom, then sidles up next to Remus. Remus hesitates, but tucks his book into his back pocket, and reaches out to grab Sirius’ shoulder as he hitches a leg over the broom. He slides too far to one side and grabs onto Sirius’ shirt with a gasp, and Sirius’ hand flies to Remus’ thigh to steady him.

“Careful there,” Sirius chuckles awkwardly, pulling his hand back.

“Yeah, sorry,” Remus mumbles.

“It’s alright. You can, you know, hang on to me. I don’t care. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to fall off.”

He feels Remus’ soft laughter on the back of his neck, and suddenly finds it hard to breathe when Remus wraps his arms around him. Sirius shakes his head slightly and flies the two of them towards where James is waiting. His landing is a bit more rough than usual, but for reasons he doesn’t want to think about right now, he needs to put some space between himself and this boy he just met.

“Thanks,” Remus says as he climbs off the broom. There’s a glint in his golden eyes that Sirius hadn’t seen up in the tree. His smile is different too, more secretive, and Sirius doesn’t know what to make of that.

___________________________________

They spend the next hour playing their makeshift version of quidditch, then the following two hours exploring the forest and a river nearby that held strange gems at the bottom that Remus wanted to show them. The four of them seem pleased at how well they’re getting along and how easily they’re having fun together. Sirius tries to focus on their effortless dynamic instead of how strangely nervous he’s been feeling around this person. This boy. He must have stumbled no less than four times over the forest floor, and even walked into a tree at one point. Remus must think he’s the most dim-witted bloke he’s ever met.

They’re walking back to the meadow near Peter’s house, pockets full of colourful gemstones, when Remus stops walking abruptly, glancing at a rough trail that heads off in another direction.

“Okay, well...” He wavers, and the other three stop and wait for him to continue. “It was nice meeting you.” Remus smiles quickly, shuffling his feet.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” Sirius asks, not knowing why Remus is feeling awkward out of nowhere, while also panicking that Remus is about to leave and Sirius will never see him again.

“Erm, not really, I mean, I should be getting home soon, my parents-”

“Never mind your parents,” James waves these concerns off, then walks over to Remus and throws a casual arm around him, “Come back to Pete’s with us! We can drink pumpkin juice and play gobstones outside.”

Remus looks at Peter, evidently questioning if James has the authority to invite someone over to his house.

“Yeah,” Peter agrees easily, “Of course you should come!”

Remus’ eyes find Sirius, and Sirius gets a little thrill out of the thought that Remus might actually care if Sirius wants him to join them.

“Pete’s mum makes great pumpkin juice,” he says quickly, “And we were planning a bonfire for tonight since James and I are leaving tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Remus smiles shyly again, “Only if you have marshmallows, though.”

“Who do you take us for, Lupin?” Sirius grins.

___________________________________

Later that night, after a lively round of gobstones and many pints of pumpkin juice, the boys are gathering wood for the bonfire, when Sirius nudges Remus to slow down and let Peter and James walk ahead of them.

“Hey,” he says in a low voice when the others are far enough away.

“Yeah?” Remus is frowning at him, a note of anxiety in his voice.

“I was just wondering,” Sirius starts, feeling more awkward than he’s probably ever been in his life, and increasingly embarrassed as Remus simply stares back at him, waiting for him to speak. “Erm, just- just wondering, since I can’t come back here for a while, if I could write to you? During the school year?”

“Oh,” Remus breaths, his features blank with genuine surprise. Then, his face breaks out into a wide smile that does something wild and strange to Sirius’ insides. “Of course. Yeah, of course. I’d love that.”

Sirius exhales a large breath that he had apparently been holding in. “Right, great. Cool.”

“Cool.”

“Oi, Black! Lupin!” James calls from somewhere up ahead, “Let’s get this fire going! Pete says we’re having a competition to see who can eat the most marshmallows!”

Sirius smiles at Remus, feeling unusually giddy, as they start walking again.

“There’s no way any of you are beating me,” Remus states confidently, surprising Sirius. “I’m the king of marshmallows.”

“Is that right?” Sirius laughs.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“I guess we will.”

___________________________________

Sirius loses the contest to Remus by one marshmallow, and despite being known for his competitive attitude, he finds he doesn’t care at all. He has a sneaking suspicion he won something much better that night, and already can’t wait until the next time he gets to see Remus Lupin again.

*

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Five

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: New characters, yay! Just an fyi but I would like to start posting one chapter every week... thots?? Also, I've been thinking of adding a taglist? sksk I know it would be small but I personally love to get tagged when new chapters come out for my faves. If that's something ya'll would like comment so I know!! Alright, back to your regularly scheduled program :)

----

Literature was next. Now this? This you could handle. Always being a bit of an avid reader, you could devour a novel in one night --- and you often did. Finding the hidden meanings between the lines of text, like unwrapping a present, gave you a thrill. You were the person who could debate for hours about the meaning of a symbol in a book, as annoying as that is to everyone else.

Maybe it was the promise of escape, where you could be transplanted into another world, detached from your own, that appealed so much to you about reading. You could lose yourself, feeling the rush of the love affair or the thrill of a dangerous adventure. Coupled with your analytical nature, you felt more than at home in a literature classroom.

With this in mind, you make your way to your next class with more vigor than usual. When you arrive and take a seat, you pull out your materials and wait for class to begin.

Several minutes later, your professor walks to the podium in the front of the room to introduce herself. After several minutes of reviewing the syllabus, she explains the structure of the class. You were to be placed in small groups, to discuss the readings and write a paper at the end of the semester. This made you a little nervous --- having to rely on others to some capacity for your grade always gave you a bit of anxiety.

She began reading out the names of the students belonging to each group, so you listen carefully as to not miss your own name despite your anxious thoughts swirling inside your head.

“... Eum Hee-Young, Gal Ae-Cha, Ree Mun-Hee, you are group seven. Kim Seokjin, Y/l/n y/f/n, Kim Namjoon, you are group eight. Ok Youngsoo…” her voice fades off as you glance around the room, trying to meet the gazes of other searching eyes as your group was announced.

Your eyes meet those of a guy who looked maybe a year or two older than you, with round, wire frame glasses. His mahogany hair was pushed off of his forehead, parted to the side giving him a youthful but put-together look. He holds up eight fingers, looking at you expectedly, and you nod quickly. He picks up his belongings, preparing to move to you as you had empty space in the seats around you. As he slings his backpack over a shoulder, you scan your eyes around the room to try to catch the other member of your group.

To your surprise, your eyes meet those of the same boy you had ogled over yesterday in your calculus class, before it had started. You shyly hold up your own eight fingers, to which he gives a decisive nod to, and begins to make his way to you as well. You can’t help but notice the planes of his back as he bends down to grab his backpack, his wide shoulders tilting making them seem even larger. He is wearing a simple blue button down and jeans, but even through that you could tell his shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, making him have the perfect masculine inverted triangular build.

Slightly embarrassed at your thoughts, you glance at your other partner, now close to you. His oversized yellow knit sweater swallowed him a little, but with the glasses gave him a cute bookish look. His large frame juxtaposed his cute appearance --- he was on the taller side and seemed built as well. You made eye contact, and gestured to the seat next to you for him to sit. The other boy now approaching, you both watch as he takes the other open seat in front of you.

Your group now assembled, you tune back into your professor who was explaining the first text you were to read together. She told you that it was a short love story that relied heavily on symbolism and became a prominent symbol in and of itself in movies and television. Your first assignment was to analyze the symbolism of the text, and come to a more complex conclusion than what the surface of the text presents. You could feel yourself becoming slightly excited to jump into the assignment as she explained.

“You will be given the rest of class to get acquainted with your group members. They will be permanent, bar any issues that may arise. The first assignment is due at the end of next class. While on this first assignment I will be more lenient with grading, please do your best and set a good standard for your groups. Okay, go ahead everyone,” she finishes.

At her dismissal of your attention, you glance back at your group members. The boy with glasses speaks first. “I’m Namjoon, nice to meet you guys.”

“Seokjin, or just Jin,” the other boy gives.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you both.”

“So, what year and major are you? I’m a third year, and a journalism major,” Namjoon offers. As he speaks, he gives you both a grin that displays deep dimples on both cheeks. He was very cute, you decided. He had a nerdy charm to him, with a build on the beefy side that made you want to cuddle him.

“I’m a first year… and to tell the truth I haven’t decided on a major yet,” you admit, but give them both a smile.

“Ah, hoobae, you are lucky you are with us pros then! I’m a fourth year, and a business major,” Seokjin says with a wide smile.

“Sunbaenim, are you in calculus before this? I thought I recognized you from there,” you downplay a little. You knew he was in that class since you had spent time checking him out in it, but didn’t want to seem creepy.

“I have a recognizable face.” At this he gives a smug look, but is clearly using a joking tone. “Yeah, calculus with Yoo at nine?”

“Yep. That guy goes so fast,” you frown. “But anyways, how do you guys feel about this assignment?”

Namjoon enters the conversation again, “Honestly I’m kind of excited for it. It’s been a while since I’ve done any reading that isn’t research related, which kind of sucks.”

“That does suck. I love to read, that’s why I took this class, actually,” you empathize.

“Yeah? What do you like to read?” Namjoon leans towards you a bit, excited at the prospect of talking about reading it seems.

“Oh, um… I’d say my favorite genre is probably any type of fantasy, I like being able to be in a different world for a bit. Oh, I also like historical pieces, that stuff is always so interesting.” You were a little hesitant to share, afraid he’d judge your preferences.

“I love historical pieces. I think that’s one of the things that lead me into journalism actually, it’s basically writing history for those in the future to look back on. I just think that’s really cool.” His eyes seemed glitter as he talked about something he was obviously passionate about. You felt yourself developing a soft spot for the boy, finding his friendly disposition and slightly nerdy personality to be incredibly endearing. It didn’t hurt he was also very attractive.

“What about you sunbaenim? Do you like to read?” you ask Seokjin, whose head was oscillating between you and Namjoon.

Surprised the attention shifted to him, his eyes widened to give him an owlish look. You are really surrounded by some beautiful men, you think. What do they put in the water here? It would be normal to run across a cute guy here or there, but this is kind of ridiculous. Seokjin himself has a face that is so beautiful it looks like it should have been carved out of marble!

Focus! You have to scold yourself. The boy you were just admiring in your head is now answering your question and you are too distracted to even process what he’s saying.

“... not too crazy, occasionally I guess…” His body language told you that he was slightly embarrassed at not being as enthusiastic a reader as you and Namjoon.

“I’m sure you have hobbies that are cooler than reading then, if I was athletic or creative I wouldn’t read so much either! Namjoon-sunbaenim, I’m sure you agree,” you encourage with a smile, wanting Namjoon to follow suit in making Seokjin feel comfortable.

Thankfully, he catches on quick. “Oh, yeah, I am way too clumsy to do anything more high stakes than page turning,” He chuckles. You and Seokjin both smile at Namjoon’s subtle self-deprecation. They both were sweet, you think. Your earlier fears about working with others subside. “I guess I could say that I do have another hobby though, I actually help out at the school’s radio station for fun,” Namjoon adds shyly.

Jin tilts his head in surprise. “Oh really? I have a friend who…”

He gets abruptly cut off by the professor’s voice echoing through the room, which causes him to stop his thought.

“Hopefully everyone is acquainted now, and is ready to get to work next class. I expect good things from you all this semester. You are dismissed,” your professor says with finality.

The three of you quickly gather your things, ready to merge with the swarm of students streaming out of the door. You give them both a smile, and say, “It was nice meeting you both. See you next class!” to which they give their own farewell.

As you leave, you check your phone out of habit. It seems your intuition is right, as usual.

*Miss me yet?*

Does Taehyung really have nothing better to do?

*What exactly is there to miss?*

You hope that after your curt response he’d get the memo. This guy is such a fuckboy, you think. While you don’t know why he set his sights on you for now, you hope he gets bored soon. While you give that tough persona to him, the truth is you are more sensitive than that. The idea of being used for sex once and then discarded was unappealing, and Taehyung seemed like the type to do just that.

----

Finally home after attending two more classes for the day, which were thankfully much less eventful, you slip off your shoes and let your bag slide off your shoulder to thunk on the floor. You were tired. And hungry, apparently, because your stomach makes some concerning noises as soon as you slip your light jacket off. You make your way to the kitchen at the sound, ready to make a nice dinner and decompress.

When you get there, you see one of your new roommates sitting at the stools for your kitchen counter. This roommate was one that you had connected with immediately, drawn to her blunt but fun-loving aura. Her short stature, shorter than average, gave no warning for her and ‘gives-no-fucks’ attitude. You could tell however, that inside she had a soft heart. Even in your short time together, you had seen glimpses of it here and there.

You learned when you had met that she had moved to Korea from America last year, making her a second year at your university. Her features stood out from the crowd, with brown skin and large curls that framed her face in a halo. She was really quite beautiful. Tia, but called Bean by her friends, which now included you, made you feel welcomed to campus and you were thankful for her.

Wanting to not scare her as you walked into the kitchen, you gave her a greeting. Her head pops up from where it was buried in her phone, which had been drawing her into her own world.

“Hey chickie. Long day?” she asks. Apparently your exhaustion was pretty obvious if she could tell right off the bat. You sigh, bending over to pull some vegetables out of the fridge.

“I just want to know who let me schedule four classes on Tuesdays. They should be in jail,” you complain.

She gives you an amused look, watching you now stand at the cutting board to prepare your food. “I think that person was you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. If I could go back in time and slap my past self I would,” you grown with your head tipped back. She lets out a laugh at your expense.

“Don’t laugh at me unnie! I’m going to pass away from exhaustion over here!” you try to say seriously, but can’t help but let out a little giggle. “What were you doing with your head buried in your phone, huh? Are you talking to someone?” you tease, pointing your knife at her with your other hand on your hip.

“Why, do you wish it was you?” She wiggles her eyebrows, giving you a side smirk. You knew she was deflecting, so you lift your eyebrow and give her a flat expression, waiting for her real answer. “Ugh, it’s nothing. There was just this really cute girl in my class today, and I tried talking to her but she didn’t really seem like she liked me… and I may have just been looking at her social media,” Tia admitted.

Now at the stove, stirring your dinner, you look over your shoulder to say something that would hopefully ease her anxiety. “You know that you can come on strong sometimes, maybe she’s just a little shy, ya know? Maybe try again with a softer approach,” you offer. “What is there not to like?”

She gives you a wide grin to match your own at your last remark. You both giggle, any tension in the air from Tia’s concerns gone. Dinner now finished, you grab two bowls and serve you both. You both slip into easy banter, almost like you two have been friends for years. You hope that you will be, someday.