#but I also recognise that I am no longer at all interested in a group based purely on religious endeavours or needs

[slavicafire]

now i’m curious, what would be your idea of a nice discord server?

you know, I've thought about it for a long time and I think the very idea of a discord server is incompatible with what I truly want - even purely mechanically. my bad! instant messaging, dozens of channels, strangers in a strange land, unbalanced reactions due to differences in time zones and interests and simply affinity between different members... it's all so tiring to me, somehow. navigating it is unpleasant, and - to me, personally - it feels lacking, if not insincere. which is entirely a personal thing, really, and I am not disputing how useful and exciting those servers are to others.

I think what I actually want is an association of like-minded people present more in the physical realm than online - with epistolary upkeep of the connection in between the opportunities to meet in person, with common goals that we track, with a deeper bond. like a reading club, just for a wider array of activities than just reading.

well, a club, then. a collegium. a coven!

woe that the world is so vast and the most thrilling souls too far away and too entangled in the everyday to make it happen. woe indeed.

[sgstories123]

Good Boy Zed

John looked at his watch. It was already past 2 am. The event was supposed to end at 11 pm but these corporate events sometimes can go on longer than expected. As general manager of the hotel, in such a scenario, he would have to get the client to end the event without getting them upset. It was a delicate task especially when most of the people would be drunk and irrational at this late stage of the event. But if he did not do this, the hotel would have to foot the additional cost including paying for all the temp workers who are waiting for the event to clean up.

It was not too bad today, he thought to himself. The person in charge was still sober and apologetic. He managed to end the event and obtained some additional compensation for the hotel. He looked around at the group of temporary workers who were now clearing up the room. All five of them looked young. They were most probably tertiary students working part-time during the vacation break. He recognised one of them, Zed, a young man studying hospitality in one of the private schools. He had chatted with him a couple of times as he had worked for the hotel as a part-timer for quite some time. He had expressed an interest to work in the hotel when he graduated.

But he was more interested in the girl next to him. She was petite, maybe about 1.5 metres tall. She had a innocent and cute face, with large eyes framed by thick, black lashes. She looked like a Japanese school girl. At that moment, the girl giggled at something that Zed was sharing. Zed parted her hair lovingly and the girl looked down in embarrassment. Gosh, John thought to himself. How nice to be young again.

At 50, John knew what it was to grow old. His paunch has been growing every year and he finds it more and more difficult to climb the flight of steps to his second-floor office in the hotel. He had also been taking Viagra for a couple of years as he could no longer perform.

The other three workers, two boys and a girl, seemed to be friendly with Zed as well. While they were working, they were talking and laughing with each other. John was pleased. He did not like it when the temp workers complain about the longer hours. He wanted to reward them for their hard work and positive attitude, knowing that at this time of the night, the additional compensation will not be sufficient for their cab fare home.

“Mr John, Sir! We are almost done. Can I get the keys from you to lock up the stores?” Zed asked.

“Sure.” John responded. “By the way, Zed. Are all of them your friends?”

“Yeah. We are in the same school. I introduced them to your hotel as temp workers.” Zed replied.

“Is that pretty girl your girlfriend? I saw you too behaving quite intimately.” John asked.

“Not really. I thought Nicole was quite chio so we talk a little bit more lor.” Zed laughed.

John was pleased to hear that. “Do you live far from here? Tell you what. I can get you a room for all of you and you can sleep there till morning. There is some wine left over from the event which the client did not want to take back. You can have it as well if you want.”

“Oh my God! Really! Thanks, Mr John, Sir! I will tell the rest.” Zed was clearly thrilled. John was happy that he managed to do something nice.

A short while later, John had led the five of them into a quad room with two queen-sized beds. They also brought up with them several bottles of wine and a small plate of sandwiches also leftovers from the event. John joined them as the group of them joked and ate a late supper. But John was not paying attention to the jokes. He was looking at Nicole at every opportunity. Now out other hotel uniform, Nicole looked even more like a school girl. She had on a white t-shirt and a short denim skirt with a cute, yellow flower at the side. Something a small girl will wear. John could feel his cock stirring.

By the time the food and wine was gone, the two girls were already too tired and were already resting on the beds.

“Looks like they are really tired. I will go back to my office so that you boys can take a rest too.” John said as he got up to leave the room.

Zed opened the door for him. At the door, Zed smiled at John. “Mr John. We actually planned to have an orgy after the event at one of the budget hotels tonight. But because you offered us such a nice hotel room plus free food and wine, it had turned out to be much better than what we plan. We have all agreed that you can join us. Do you want to?

“Erm…No lah…You enjoy yourself.” John was shocked.

“You sure, Mr John? I know you are interested in Nicole.” Zed said with a twinkle in the eye. “I won’t lie to you. You know I want to work for your hotel, right. So I asked her if she is okay with sleeping with you. I did cajole her a little and she finally agreed.”

John was more shocked than ever. “Let me think about it.”

“Alright, Mr John. You can join us if you change your mind.”

In his office, John was still thinking about Zed’s conversation interspersed with images of Nicole. Unable to focus any more on his work, he opened his drawer where he kept his Viagra and popped one into his mouth. He walked to the mini-bar in his office and washed the little blue pill with a good amount of whisky. He left the room quickly, hoping that the blue pill will work in time, his heart beating fast with expectation.

“Oh! Hi, Mr John! Joining us? You are just in time. We are just getting started.” Zed gushed as he opened the door for John. He saw that Zed was naked with a hard, erect cock. As he entered the room, he saw that the others were also naked. The two boys were lying side by side with the other girl, sucking on her breasts and taking turns fingering her. She was moaning softly. Zed was right. They must have just started.

Nicole was sitting up on the other bed. Zed must have been with her before he went to open the door. Seeing John, she blushed and pulled the blanket up to cover her breasts in a bid for modesty. That’s so cute, thought John. But he knew that he needed some time for the pill to work. He could feel his cock stirring but it was not hard yet.

“Come, Mr John. Nicole is waiting for you.” Zed was trying very hard to get into John’s good books.

“You go ahead first. Let me take a shower before joining you.” John demurred, as he slowly removed his clothes.

Zed did not need a second invitation. He climbed onto the bed and started kissing and hugging Nicole. He pulled her down, covering half her body with his own body as his fingers started exploring her love hole. Sighs of pleasure was emitting from Nicole.

John went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. He walked out of the bathroom, his cock still flaccid, the medication still not kicking in. As he watched the the group of young people engaging in sex, he started to stroke his cock, willing it to grow hard.

By now, the two guys were already fucking the other girl. One of them was behind fucking her doggy style while the other was at the front, receiving a blowjob.

John could feel his cock hardening. He turned to Nicole and saw that Zed has now lifted Nicole’s legs and licking her cunt. She seemed to be close to cumming as her moans were getting louder and her body was jerking upwards uncontrollably. Her hands were grabbing Zed’s hair as she tried to ride out her pleasure. John walked over and started sucking on her small, breasts. Nicole moaned loudly in pleasure as John’s tongue touched her sensitive nipples. With an upwards thrust and a scream, she squirted all over Zed.

“Mr John. I got Nicole all wet for you. No one has fucked her yet. I made sure you get the first fuck.” Zed was one hell of a bootlicker, thought John. He must get that boy a job.

John took over Zed’s place, spreading Nicole’s legs to enjoy the view. Nicole had shaved her pussy. It was so smooth, just like a school girl’s. He parted the lips, now wet with her juice before sliding his hard cock in. John just only managed to get the head of his cock in when Nicole screamed in pain, digging her nails into John’s arms as she grabbed him.

“Mr John. Go slow. Nicole told me she don’t have much experience with sex. She only had sex a few times with her boyfriend. You are the second guy she is having sex with.” Zed whispered urgently.

Almost a virgin. Almost too good to be true. John thought to himself. He pushed in slowly, letting Nicole adjust to his penis. It was so tight. Nicole must be telling the truth. After a while, he managed to get his while length in while Nicole was grimacing in pain. Zed must be encouraging her as John could see him whispering something to her and playing with her nipples to get her to continue. With Nicole seemingly adjusting to him, John started fucking her slowly. He removed his cock slowly before plunging in again. He went for longer strokes, slowly increasing his pace. Nicole was starting to moan in pleasure. He lifted her legs to his shoulders as he pumped deeper and deeper. Nicole responded by moaning louder and louder. Zed continued to play a supporting role, kissing Nicole and playing with her tits, to make her even more aroused.

“Let’s change position, Zed.” John commanded. He laid down on his back. “Get Nicole up on my cock in cowgirl position.” Zed obeyed and slowly helped the inexperienced Nicole to straddle John while guiding his cock into her. As she sat down onto John’s cock, she shivered in pleasure as the cock went straight up into her. John pulled her down and kissed her, hugging the small, petite body closely against his fat belly.

“Zed. You are a good boy. Your reward is to fuck Nicole from behind.” John commanded.

“Thanks Mr John.” Zed responded gaily. He took up a position before slowly pushing his cock into Nicole’s vagina, rubbing against John’s cock.

Nicole screamed in pain as she took in 2 cocks for the very first time. But it was soon smothered as one of the boys came over and shoved his cock into Nicole’s mouth. It took a while but Zed finally managed to get his whole length into Nicole. As he fucked Nicole, he rubbed against John’s cock. He was happy that he managed to get such an intimate connection with John.

The group continued with their orgy session until the sun rose and lit up the room. John had fucked Nicole several times with the other 3 boys each taking turns accompanying and supporting him. He did not manage to fuck the other girl although she did come over and gave him a kiss. As the session came to an end, the group got dressed and started to leave the room. John gave Nicole a final peck on the cheek before she left the room. Zed was the last to leave the room.

“Mr John, Sir. Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Zed asked.

“Yes, Zed. You are a good boy. I will make sure that you get a job with the hotel. You don’t have to worry.” John replied, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“Can we fuck next time without Nicole?” Zed looked at John in the eye. John did not know what to say.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 3. Faux Pas

Summary: "If it's not much trouble, Lady Danbury, I have an individual in mind I'm particularly interested in meeting..." Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Words: 1,759 Listen to: Risk -by Gracie Abrams A/N: I love paranoid Benedict -Danny

Once it's clear the man you met at Hyde Park has recognised you too, you hope he'll come and introduce himself, but there is no luck. You're left to enjoy the ball, that is to say, you sit on your arse and pretend to listen to the Prince's rambling about his many travels.

Now that everyone has seen your face and satiated their curiosity, you wish to return to your chamber and change into your nightgown. Marie makes no effort to keep you company, she is enjoying her prince far more than you are, perhaps because she's always loved meeting new people. You sigh and slouch, losing yourself to whatever story you can concoct on a whim. 

A dark-skinned lady makes a 'Tsk!' sound at you and you turn your head, surprised that anyone would dare address you in such a way. She looks like someone worth talking to, so you excuse yourself, stepping on your dress as you stand too quickly. The servant, placed there by your cautious mother, steadies you.

"Thank you," you flash an awkward smile at him before walking away.

"Having a nice evening, Your Royal Highness?" The woman holds back a grin.

You hesitate, not wanting to lie to her. "Surely my face says it all?"

She chuckles. "Lady Danbury, at your service."

"You may call me Y/N," you retort giving a curtsy. "The formalities are fraying my nerves."

"I see that," she accentuates the middle word. "I can't blame you for loathing the spotlight, my dear. The best ones always do. On nights like this one, you should cling to your privilege if you're to deal with every daunting task, too."

"I'm not so sure," you show a shy smile. "My Queen and King were far too pampering and as a to-be monarch, I cannot defer the spotlight any longer. I regret waiting this long."

Lady Danbury steps an inch closer, minding not to stab your foot with her cane. "I'm sorry you're stuck here having no one to talk to but the Queen's brats. Although your sister and brothers don't mind it much, do they?"

"Marie's far more patient and open-hearted than I could ever be. Forbearance runs thin within me, I need people with layers to them."

"Layers?" Lady Danbury asks.

"People that have lived many lives," you explain, unable to hold back your poetics, "I can work with a thoughtful talker, but I detest mindless rambling."

She hums. "If it's a character you seek, I might be useful to you. I could help you find some real layered individuals."

"Could you?" You beam, then pause. "Am I allowed to mingle like that?"

Lady Danbury glances over your shoulder. "Well, everyone in your group is paired up and entertained. I'm obliged to find you a worthy companion so you don't go home with a lowly opinion of our balls." 

"Splendid." You take the liberty to reach for her hand and lean closer to speak. "If it's not much trouble, Lady Danbury, I have an individual in mind I'm particularly interested in meeting..."

Benedict scolds himself for not paying attention to his siblings' depictions of Genovians. If he had, he would've recalled Colin's statement about the women in your country being no strangers to dressing in men's clothes. What a massive arse he'd been, teasing and calling... dear god, he'd called you an ill-bred critter.

He wants to drown himself in whiskey, maybe if he's lucky he'll escape before the night's over and claim victory at one of his lover's beds. That might alleviate the sting in his gut. He might come out of this unscathed, just an hour or so and he will be the first to walk out the door.

He stays away from where the royals are, searching for witless conversation while also paying mind not to humour any debutants too much. He dances with one, but as soon as it ends he forgets all about her and the worries come flooding back. 

Benedict doesn't wish to be executed for disrespecting a princess! Yes, she teased, too. She'd called him names, but she was a princess, not his equal, and perhaps she was enjoying the way Benedict was digging a deeper grave for himself.

"You!" Lady Danbury comes through like a bullet and the crowd opens despite everyone's interest in taking a closer look at the princess. To Benedict's horror, Lady Danbury and her companion are coming his way. "Don't look at me like that, boy, I'm doing you a favour! You always lament and protest the dullness of these events. Allow me to make introductions."

He takes a single step forward, hesitant and unlike him, incapable of looking at the princess in the eye. "Lady Danbury..." his voice comes out sounding ridiculous.

The woman clicks her tongue and grabs a glass of lemonade from a passing platter, almost shoving it into his hand. "Now, don't make me look bad in front of the princess, I was just telling her what a gifted talker you are!"

"I'm impertinent, really," he hurries to say. "Out of all I do for society, my inability to hold my tongue should be excluded from the list."

"Witty and humble," the princess says with amusement. "Lady Danbury, Mr. Bridgerton might be what I'm looking for."

"Looking for?" He questions anxiously.

Lady Danbury laughs. "You act as if we were choosing you as our next supper!"

That is more or less his worry. Benedict pushes through his remorse to greet the princess. "My apologies, Your Royal Highness, I'm extremely rude. Benedict Bridgerton, at your service."

"Y/N Devereaux," you curtsy with a smile. "Don't worry, I do not think you rude. Or a critter, for that matter." Benedict's entire face flushes.

"Mr. Bridgerton is the second son of the Bridgerton family, charming though he relies a bit too much on his looks and too little on his brain," Lady Danbury resumes. "Princess Y/N wishes to meet you, my boy. Can I trust you to take good care of her?"

The princess smiles, but Benedict feels it like a wolfish smirk. He tries his best to slip out of the situation. "I'm not half-witty to keep a lady such as the princess entertained, Lady Danbury, do not trust me."

"Well, seeing you're so eager to reject the offer I'm inclined to agree," Benedict has a fraction of a second to feel relieved before the grown woman continues. "However, Your Royal Highness wishes to speak to you tonight. So gather your wits and do your best."

Her eyes remain on him, playful and knowing. He narrows his. "May I ask what's so enjoyable about me?"

The woman pats his arm once before leaving. "I rarely see you so unsteady on your feet— quite an entertaining view." Lady Danbury looks at the princess and tilts her head down. "Your Royal Highness. I'll be right over there if you need me."

"Thank you," Princess Y/N smiles at her. Benedict is about to undo himself in apologies when the princess speaks, eyeing the decorations in the ballroom like she's not very interested in him. "Responding to my questions in a yes or no fashion will do just fine. Are you having fun?"

"No." He replies, glaring at a passing guest who smiles in a congratulatory manner at him.

"Would you like to?"

"Yes." His hands fidget with the untouched glass of lemonade Lady Danbury placed in them.

"Have you danced?"

"Yes."

"Breathed fresh air?"

"No. And I very much yearn for an ample spot where to faint," he keeps his eyes on her profile and watches as the smile on her face grows an inch.

"Garden it is, then," Y/N takes the lemonade and holds onto the crook of his elbow.

Outside, you take your time to address your companion, having too much fun watching someone else squirm in discomfort for a change. "If you wish to say something, now would be—"

"I am so dreadfully sorry," he untangles his arm from you and speaks, trying to keep eye contact while also bowing apologetically. "You must've thought me the most uncultured idiot when we spoke at the park. I didn't know who you were but I should've known—"

"Mr. Bridgerton," you interrupt him surprised. "Do I look angry?"

He examines your expression. "You're smiling, but that could mean anything."

"I believe that means I'm content."

"You could be smiling at my expense."

"Now, that does insult me. Do I give you the impression of being cruel?"

"Princess, I beg you not to ask me what I think of you," he closes his eyes in mortification for a moment. "My brain isn't working, I've drank too much."

You lift his chin to the light, pretending to examine him. "Yet your words do not drag and you don't smell. Do I make you nervous?"

Benedict feels his face heat up again at the statement and steps out from your reach. "See if you'd like to be given the responsibility to entertain the pope and not have your nerves frayed entirely by the end of it."

You laugh, amused by his struggle between remembering his manners and wanting to reply to your teasing in kind. "I hold no resentment towards the way you treated me prior to this night, Mr. Bridgerton. In fact, that is exactly why I asked Lady Danbury to introduce us."

Benedict frowns. "May I ask you to elaborate?"

"Well, I had fun," you admit, looking at the beautiful garden ahead. "And Lady Danbury told me a bit about you and your family. I wanted to meet interesting people, and your last name was mentioned almost right away. Would you consider that a compliment?"

"Most definitely," he replies, a hesitant little smile finally showing up.

"Then take it as such and forget about yesterday, but I won't. I rarely get treated the way you treated me. I was clumsy and rude, but you weren't heartless, that is quite rare in a man."

"Is it?" Benedict tilts his head. "If you think me a rare find, you will think my brothers are figments of your imagination."

"You talk kindly of your siblings, that says a lot of your family as a whole," you point out, and your words make him warm up to you with ease. "Mother says one cannot hide who they are when asked about family."

You place your hands on the stone bannister and lean forward to peek at the bushes beneath you, making Benedict's heart shrink as his hand hovers near your lower back, looking after you.

"Careful, Princess," he says tersely.

"I've slipped from taller places," you grin. "And as I recall, you are well aware of how good my bum is at softening my falls."

That pulls an involuntary laugh from him that you easily match. Away from the hundreds of gazes in the ballroom, he finds himself wanting to keep you close, if only for one evening.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@babypink224221 @Booknerdlife @djsporks @lght-roastcoffee @marii-ren @mythical-goth @omgsuperstarg @creepytoes88 @sarahskywalker-amidala @23victoria @shadowolf993 @squirreljoe @syxtiramishuui

[perplexingluciddreams]

Have you read any Merlin fanfiction? I really like Merlin fanfic. What kinds of fanfic do you like to read?

I have read a lot of Merlin fanfiction. But I have also always loved reading in general! Ever since I was very young.

I like to read lots of different types and tropes and fandoms and lengths and styles. I just love to read, always have. I make very general wide searches then just scroll scroll scroll and click on anything that looks interesting! (Which is a lot of the fics that show up, honestly!). As much as people praise ao3’s search tab, I quite like to stumble across new things in a more natural manner. So I start off with a very wide search (the tag for an entire TV programme, for example), then try things until I find something I like and then I may search for more of the same… then go back to my wider original search and continue scrolling and reading.

There is only a few things that make me click out of a fic. Usually it has to do with visual clutter and too big chunks of paragraphs that I can’t follow. Or if I am just utterly confused and don’t know what is going on (sometimes people write in a very poetic way which is very pretty but I can’t really follow). But also if it is very pretty words and nice rhythm to it (or just generally seems well written) I might read it anyway, even when I don’t know what is going on 🤷🏻���♂️.

When I attempt to read much longer fics (like similar/same as a novel length, or longer, with many long chapters), I will usually have it open in one tab and switch between reading that and reading short “one-shots”, or re-reading my bookmarks. I often have about 3 or 4 ao3 tabs open at the same time!

I have always been a fast reader, in terms of how fast I visually recognise the words. But then I don’t process the meanings of most of it… my hyperlexic brain wants to skim read all of the words as fast as possible, but my level of comprehension and processing speed can’t keep up!! I end up re-reading most things because of this. I finish a short fic and immediately go back to the start and read slower again (sometimes several times - up to 10).

A longer fic (novel length or longer), I tend to take in sections, so I will read a few paragraphs and then go back over and over and over until I feel like I absorbed it and understand what is going on. I also often have to refer back to earlier chapters or sections to connect the pieces together in a linear fashion.

That is also how I have always read books^. And why I have always had groups of favourites (single books or series) that I go back to time and time again. I can’t really “take in” everything after only one read - even when read my way with the sections and the repetition and always going backwards before I can continue forwards - so I solve that by even more repetition of my process!

[pseudowho]

hi haitch!! hope you'll recover from your sickness soon :< those darn virus (or bacteria >:( i hope its not that bad)

ummm this is a pretty random ask but i see u as the older sis of tumblr (hehe) so this is kind of like a "looking for advice" ask 😶‍🌫️

[This ask is also open to anyone that can see this, i'll take any wisdom i can get 🙏🙏]

Ok so umm have you been a leader of a group? If so, how did u manage to do it? What kinds of values or strategies you used when dealing with (older) members of your group and figuring out how to work with your coworkers?

(Im asking this as i got assigned in a pretty BIG position in our org in college and im so not prepared for it, i thought i was doing it alone but im not 😱 i actually have to lead and stuff and im so scared of doing the wrong thing----cuz i dont have any prior leadership experience (of a serious group at least) 😭 and most of my members that i recruited are OLDER than me 💀 so the impostor syndrome is raging so hard rn)

I thought i was just gonna assist the org...not work for them.... *wipes tears*

anyways, im virtually sending you a warm soup to your house, haitch >:3 you're gonna need it >:3

🏠🍲🏃‍♀️

Hello, hi! I am good at the big sis business, and your problem is something I've dealt with too.

I was promoted to a high position at a very young age in my job. I had to lead large groups of individuals, most of whom were older than me, and many of whom were: 1. Unhappy that I got the job, because they felt someone older was 'owed' it purely for having done the job longer, and 2. Vocally bemoaning my assumed inability to do the job, and 3. Actively trying to put me down or ignore me because of it.

My advice:

Kill with kindness: please not, I do not mean roll over and show your belly; what I mean is, assume an air of sincere interest and feigned misunderstanding of someone tries to belittle you. "I'm sorry, I think I must have misunderstood; can you please explain?" and "Can you rephrase that?" -- it's funny how people stop being snide and subversive little cunts, when they're faced with someone reasonable who doesn't take the bait, and they're forced to explain how they're being a little cunt.

Be consistent and meticulous; complete everything you need to do to an arseholeish level of perfection and detail, within all if your abilities. Sometimes the older ones in the group are looking for faults. If you do make an error...

Admit to your faults and reflect on them: put aside the hurt and embarrassment you feel; they are not productive. Analyse what led to the fault, what happened because of the fault, and how it may be prevented in the future. This is called "Root Cause Analysis" and there are various reflective models to help you to be a more introspective version of yourself.

Recognise your relative youth as a superpower: you areore likely to be tolerant, flexible and amenable to change than your older counterparts. Experience is something you can gain; fight the gerontocracy!

Ask someone you trust for advice; not everyone is out to get you. If you have a chance to talk to a predecessor and ask them what they would do in a certain situation, do. Arrogance is no ample replacement for true humility.

Remain the version of yourself who got this job: you got it for a reason. You have traits which will make you a good leader. Sometimes people will try to break you down for this, but knowing yourself is vital to putting your foot down and knowing your limits for mistreatment.

Enjoy yourself. I hope you love doing the job you've been given. If you power through, in a year you will undoubtedly be experienced and be much more comfortable in the role. Nobody feels like they fit the role as soon as they take it. Be a cat being poured into any container, and allow yourself to mould into shape.

Feel free to Inbox me again. You can do this, small. I believe in you!

Good luck little one,

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[thestarpletsystem]

Hey Taylor.

Your post really touched me, as someone who's been through a lot of the same fears as you. You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to host for a while, if you want. If your host doesn't agree with that, that's something you're going to have to work out with them, but - I don't personally believe anyone should be keeping another system member off front, unless that person is doing actual harm. "Insisting that people know and recognise you" is not actual harm.

I can't guarantee that your parents will ever know or care about you. And that fucking sucks. As a singlet, you can't guarantee that either - I've been there - but it must hurt especially hard when you see Kara being loved, and you're not allowed to be. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be there too.

But I can guarantee that if you can get *some* time on front, by talking to Kara, bargaining for it or whatever - you will make friends. If you can get that time, go to some kind of club or group for your interests - go to an arcade or a mall or wherever you'd prefer to be - you'll find people who see you and remember you for you. You don't have to die alone. And the system will surely be a lot healthier and happier if no one feels like they have to acquiesce completely to another.

-Asuka (kaijugender, it's a sideblog so can't ask from it)

Thank you so much for the ask, it really makes a huge difference. Thank you so much for your kind words! I really really appreciate you.

To be honest, it’s not that anyone keeps me out of front. It’s stressful for Kara to not be in front, but thankfully nobody is keeping me away from it. That’s also the rule we have for the front. Anyone can as long as they’re not harming. You’re right, I’m not doing harm by wanting to be known.

The issue is with being plural and having DID, since people who aren’t plural don’t often understand what that actually entails. I don’t want to rock the boat too much. So, If I take host, I’ll just have to mask as Kara for anyone who isn’t our partner and that sucks. It’s funny you say that, though, I was “formed” to be a back up host for Kara. I was around before then, but I wasn’t a person like I am now. They were incredibly unstable and harmful, so when they were removed from being the host, I was left to become who I am now. They’re doing a lot better now.

I should go out more and make more friends, but something about that feels really daunting. My biggest concern is that we will end up crossing paths and it will all be terrible. I wish I was better at confrontation. Kara and I do talk, they know about how I feel. It’s just awkward and hard to work through. When the world is built for people who aren’t like you, it’s tough. Kara is great, they’re a wonderful host, it’s just the situation that sucks. I will work on this, at the very least.

When we’re no longer dependent on our parents, we will tell them. I don’t know if they’ll accept us, but at least then we don’t have to fear them being spiteful. It just sucks to feel like this and your first instinct to be to go to your mom, but it’s not like she knows you or your struggles. It’s lonely…

I know things will get better, but right now it’s safest for us this way, at least in the family department. I should make myself known to more friends and get more friends that are just mine.

I feel like I’m doing a bad job at living up to what Kara says about me, though. I’m not very normal right now. I’m really struggling tonight. I’m just messing up a lot and I feel really bad. I feel like something’s wrong with me but I can’t quite articulate what.

Anyway, thank you for your kind words tonight. I really needed it 🩵

~ Taylor (she/her)

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

before i go on another ramble, i am not here to counter what clothing anon ask 2 was saying about music (that would be silly and ??? why would i anyway), but as soon as i saw talk about it i really wanted to share my perspective,, so please excuse me if i ramble a bit (or a lot; i'll still try to keep it pretty brief as far as actual analysis and such goes because to talk more on that would get Super Lengthy. though i'll probably still ramble on it a bit so it'll probably still be really long haha,, whoops. this is a musical infodump now i guess?)

(also before i dive in i'm not. uh. im not a professional or anything although i do know a little bit about music. i play the piano, at a not-baby-grade level how do i say not-baby-but-also-far from-professional-level without stating the actual grade,, it's one of the last few before university/more professional level stuff i guess?? so. kind of have been brought up with learning about music and nurtured being sensitive to its meaning from childhood, so uh- yeah. i hope i can say my thoughts are hopefully less wild guesses and more... educated guesses. anyway-)

ok, so i tend to think of the music in specific groups: battle, cutscene, and character theme, according to the length and style of the music and its use in-game. for me, never-ending performance, wrath of monoceros caeli, and all-conquering tide are the battle themes related to childe, although the latter, I'm guessing, is likely not usually associated with him anywhere near as much as the first two, and that's fair enough, tbh. but i'll get to my reason for counting it too in a minute, and i do think it's important bc it broadens the musical representation of childe. anyway. cutscene themes are pretty self explanatory; rapture of the chaos and the uh the one during that one scene in his story quest. i didn't even know that had a name but then again the ost things on youtube are my only source of info for that haha,,, and of course for his character theme, letter from ajax and from snezhnaya with boldness.

now i can talk about why i included all-conquering tide in the list. if you don't recognise it by its name, it's most commonly heard as the battle theme that plays on dragonspine. however, its original use was in the domain in childe's story quest. since that, i believe, was released in 1.1 and dragonspine in 1.2, that would make his story quest the "origin" of it, so it's reasonable to assume it's actually supposed to be connected to him. and then there's the name- i mean, doesn't get much more fitting than all-conquering tide, right? i actually used to wonder "why that name?" because cool name, but how did it fit to dragonspine? but if we think about it as being related to childe.... it makes perfect sense. but, i do still think that would be a bit of a stretch to fully consider it as connected to him, so i went looking at the music itself. the first thing that stood out to me is how similarly structured it is to childe's character theme, in a way. the most noticeable thing being the beginning is the piano solo and in a very similar pattern, too, as well as the soft resolution at the end, again in an actually near-identical or just straight up identical style to his character theme. i could also argue about everything between those two points having a similarly styled structure as well, but, uh, something made as a shorter length character theme and a longer battle theme will inevitably have their differences when it comes to that. although it's hard for me to tell with certainty at this point, i believe his character theme and all-conquering tide may also share the exact same key/key signature musically, which is again very interesting since it's a possible connection point. finally, there is the music's context. when i listened closely to it, the tone of the music is really fitting if you think about it and the point where it played in childe's story quest. the entire track is filled with a strong sense of determination and at certain points there's even a subtle hint of distress and anxiety that seeps through. but there's also moments of clarity. and overall, it's a very.... "from the pov of The Hero" style music, for lack of a better way of putting it. and while yes yes, from the player's perspective i mean that's. that's what job they have in the story. it's not unusual for us to hear that tone. but thinking about it from childe's perspective? it becomes interesting, especially considering how much care is put into the tone and meaning of genshin's music literally everywhere else. i won't be taking anything for granted so i examine it all to take note of the meaning. also it does things to my feelings bc they really took that tone and style for the guy who wanted to be one, basically, and it's like- that's still who he is, even after all this time, even though it's more complicated than that now- the simplest way i can put it is probably that the difference between the battle themes is... never-ending performance and wrath of monoceros caeli are tartaglia, but all-conquering tide... it's ajax. and that is significant, when it comes to his character, i think.

anyway, the reason i find such significance in all-conquering tide being one of childe's battle themes, and a much more personal one at that is, as i mentioned before, how it broadens his musical representation. people tend to only really talk analytically about his boss battle themes. but those, as i mentioned, while really cool (and i could talk a lot about them too), are clearly showing him as the fatui's 11th harbinger - the tone of it aside, the fatui/harbinger motif is present in both never-ending performance and wrath of monoceros caeli, which musically shows that during that battle he is acting as the 11th harbinger. it's all about the "identity" connected to it. whereas for a battle theme, all-conquering tide is much, much more personal (and i don't know if it needs saying, but there isn't a single trace of the fatui motif in it, which further shows that yes- it's a much more personal one). this also makes sense when you think about it since you don't hear anything that properly matches his character theme in his boss battle themes, but the similarity between it and all conquering tide is quite striking, and that is why i examined it so closely in the first place - to find out if i could safely say they were related or not or to see if i was just imagining stuff and making it up in my head (i even asked my sibling who keeps a really objective view and hasn't played genshin to compare the two, and they saw it, too, so....). as a side note, i am glad they reused all-conquering tide as dragonspine's battle theme, the tone is fitting enough (i mean, the most fitting we could get at that time; snowy freezing cold place and all that is sufficiently relevant to childe, after all, so it's a suitable re-use option in terms of association), but that made its likely connection to childe far less obvious, especially to newer players, huh? i heard it on dragonspine first, and first impressions can stick for a long time... it makes me kind of sad at the same time though. people could listen to it and not even think about it. how all-conquering tide, unlike the other two battle themes, shows a "better" (perhaps more likable to some) side of childe. after all, music can show raw feelings; if its purpose is to show someone's perspective, it can be nothing but honest from that perspective, and it can convey a lot. but how many people don't even realise it's probably connected to him? that if it's showing anyone's perspective specifically, it'd be his? if they did realise and had a very fixed view on his character at that time, I wonder if their view of him would change at all? for some people i doubt it; but for others... who knows... and either way, it's just really interesting and enlightening, or at least i felt that way about it when i first tried to see what evidence there was for that being the case.

anyway, i've talked quite a bit now, and i think i covered the main points, so uhh maybe i should stop here? i still find it all super interesting to think about, whenever it comes up. at any rate, once again hope you are having a good day and don't mind me spouting words in here (at least this time at the end here i can also say art progress is a thing which is happening :D ehe)

wait no that explains so much. i joined genshin at the tail-end of 1.2 but avoided dragonspine until well after i had finished the liyue archon quest (the lawachurl by the frostbearing tree had me doing a 180 and getting out of there until i had more decent characters,,). so i played childe's story quest before i ever did any considerable fighting in dragonspine. i had no idea the theme of his domain was the same as the battle track there! i knew it sounded familiar when i did hear it later on in the mountain (the start is very obviously the start of letter from ajax), but i was never able to put my finger on why exactly it reminded me of something else while i tried not to die in dragonspine lmao;;

and by the time i added letter from ajax to my ost playlist and began listening to it more regularly (along with the rest of genshin's ost), i had long since stopped going to dragonspine. so i never really made the connection between the two. but now that i listen to all-conquering tide, it's so obvious!

also i really like your take of all-conquering tide being ajax' battle theme. i always saw never-ending performance as childe's battle theme while wrath of monoceros caeli was tartaglia's. it's so nice to finally have one to give to ajax that isn't just- letter from ajax. which never really sat with me as ajax' battle theme, that always felt more like.... a theme for the entire character instead of for one specific facet of him;;;

thank you so much for pointing it out! such a cool detail, very happy i get to learn it today

[runnersnz]

“I have always been an active person with a general interest in fitness but I didn’t start running until after I had children. I had severe post natal depression after the birth of my first child and so after the birth of my second son, three years later, I was much more aware of my mental health. I looked for a way of keeping fit, whilst getting outside and giving myself some time out from the responsibilities of being a mum – running seemed the perfect answer! It quickly became the thing that gave me time just for me.

I did a few shorter races while the kids were young, a couple of 10kms and a few duathlons. I had it in my mind that I would love to be able to run a half marathon but thought it just wasn’t possible for me. Another mum from my plunket group then told me how she was training for the Christchurch Half with a group from her church and invited me to join them. I did and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made! 

It was the support from the people in that group that made me realise that I really could do it and that got me across the finish line of my first half marathon. I continued to run with people from that group and went on to complete a few more half’s, and although he didn’t tell me at the time, the coach had set the training plan up so that there was a marathon six weeks after one of them. So when I’d done the half he just said “well, you’ve trained to this point, done a really good half, now you could keep going and do a full!” My belief in myself that I could do it definitely wasn’t as strong as his belief that I could!

On the marathon day I was extremely nervous on the start line, but it was an amazing race and one that will stick in my mind for just being awesome. You never know what’s going to happen in a race, you don’t know if you can complete it, but I was smiling from beginning to end. My friend joined me on her bike towards the end and I remember her saying “I’m pretty sure you’re meant to be dying about now!” But we were just running along chatting and it was a great run for all the right reasons. 

My running has evolved over the years and the distances have increased. I enjoy being part of a race but I also just love getting out and adventuring with friends. I am happiest when I am out on the trails. Speed is irrelevant to me. It is being out in nature, moving my body and freeing my mind that is important. It’s all about just being present and celebrating the fact that I get to run and have a body that allows me to! I have faced some mental health problems in my life and running has definitely helped me to feel in control of my body during times when I haven’t necessarily been able to control my mind. 

You learn so much from running, especially the longer distance runs, that you can apply to other areas of your life; like just keep putting one foot in front of the other and don’t look too far ahead. Running an ultra can be a very overwhelming thing, but if you break it down into lots of 5km, all of a sudden it doesn’t seem so overwhelming.

The people and the community that I have connected with along my running journey have made such a difference to me. I like to think that I’ve made a difference to some people as well. I volunteer for Speed Freaks as a coach. I’ve been doing that for about 18 months now and I just absolutely love it! The philosophy behind the Speed Freaks is to bring people together by using running as a vehicle for overcoming mental health or addiction issues. Just having the support of other people around you, people that notice if you don’t turn up, who check in with you and see how you are – that’s everything. And it’s not necessarily about the outcome of races or how fast you are, it’s just about being around supportive people who’ve got a common goal. Wearing the blue t-shirt is a big honour to me. I love it when people recognise you and call you a ‘freak’ as you’re running along. 

I have done a lot this year, it’s been awesome and I am really proud of some things I’ve achieved – my first backyard ultra and first ‘official’ ultra race, but I think I’m actually going to go back to running for the enjoyment of it for a bit. I just need to go back to the love of it for a while.”

Kat @sherbetweb (Christchurch) Photo taken on the Kepler Track – Portraits of Runners + their stories @RunnersNZ

[rabidcriterion]

okay so not as rabid as usualll but im doing a little writeup of a situation i am in because i am not quite sure what is. Goaing Oan

soooo like ages ago i was added to this discord server, it belonged to a friend i met at a convention and their group of friends was in there. it was a while ago, im not sure how long but at this point it would've been over a year ago. last year was. a shitfight because i was so busy with work, and since then I've inly become more busy, so I didn't really go in there very often. i do remember maybe joining an active voice chat a few times, but i dont think i was in there for very long each time, the longest i was in there was probably under thirty minutes? not sure, this was a while ago

anyway, i think at some point i left the server (it was a minecraft server by name, and i don't play that much anymore). i have no idea if i personally made the decision to leave or what. i just don't know.

i was hanging out with a friend last night and they were scrolling through a discord server and i recognised some of my friends in there. i asked them about it and they told me it was the same server. in the moment, i felt like making more of an effort to talk to and befriend this group of people, as i am no longer as stressed as i was with work (but still very busy) and so i asked them if they could send me a link. they said something to the effect of it wasn't their server so they didn't want to hand out links, which is fair but the way they said it struck me as being a bit odd. so, i messaged the person who owned the server and asked if i could be let in (on my friends advice). they messaged me back saying that "a few of the admins and mods were uncomfortable with you in their space" and that they would "double check with them but it isnt looking too good right now"

which leads me to where i am now. i havent been in this server for at least a good six months, but probably much longer. i thought i left, but i was possibly removed? im really unsure about the circumstances to be plainly honest.

i know that if anyone is reading this, i probably sound like your average socially unaware loser who was clearly being an asshole in some way im not disclosing in my post but. because it was a while ago now and ive been so busy, im having trouble remembering my interactions in there - but in my interactions with others i do a lot to ensure that im being polite and friendly with others. i just have no clue what i could have done, either online or in person to make these people so uncomfortable.

this also reminds me of a very unfortunate situation a few years ago where i had a nasty argument with someone who was previously a close friend, and they told all of our mutual friends that i had told them to kill themselves (i hadnt, we'd just had an argument). i had worked very hard to build that connection with those friends, and because they were closer with the other person, they had believed them. i foind i was suddenly uninvited from the group chat, and when i went to go and say my usual hellos to them (because at the time i had no idea about the rumour) they all reacted very strangely and all seemed incredibly uncomfortable, so i left them alone after that. this incident caused me to socially isolate myself for years, rather than pushing everyone to tell me why i was making them uncomfortable. i still havent heard directly from those people today, which would be fine if they showed no interest in talking to me, but at a convention towards the end of last year, they came up to me and asked me where I'd gone, and have been friendly since, but the level of that seems to fluctuate back into them shunning me, for reasons I'm unsure of.

this situation did a lot of damage to me, but i dont want to flip out just because the situation im in now reminds me of the last one. unless they tell me what's wrong (which i dont think they will) I can't really learn anything specific from it, so i guess at this point i just have to try and be more careful in social interactions with others in the future and try not to let it bother me? i just have no clue other than that

[ryuzaki-lawliett]

I miss weird PC games.. they're an avid interest of mine. The genre doesn't matter so much as the time period does, but I tend to find my niche slots nicely into the late nineties and early two-thousands.

Most of that era tend to have some kind of overarching feeling of gentle absurdity and controlled chaos, with a few gems being absolutely dumbfounding upon a first exposure.

I think the way they paved should have been followed upon much longer, and it's a shame that the point-and-click genre is all but gone commercially. I could say that the RTS is also dying, at least to me, newer games lack that sort of 'spark' in my eyes.

The modern gaming miasma truly does lose me more often than not, and I suppose that's only fair. I'm at least glad that I am able to recognise so deeply why a game works for me and why it doesn't.

Currently it seems to follow a sort of controlled group of variables; does it lack x but contain y, that I find myself being drawn to. I typically think if a game is absurd enough I can excuse bad gameplay, though the absurdity needs to be genuine. I want to be confused as an outsider.

It needs to have such clear intent- someone understood what was happening whilst it was in development but now that knowledge has long passed and it's a beautiful mess.

On the other hand, absurdity you can wade through and find understanding within the gameplay is also extremely good. Sanitarium comes to mind, as you can follow a coherent enough story but elements around you hint that the chaos isn't just being weird to attempt to subvert you.

I also think games with odd lore fit in too, Arcanum comes to mind. The tonal whiplash you can conjure through it is extremely rife for entertainment and enrichment.

Of course, modern indie titles that capture this feeling do absolutely enrapture me. Cruelty Squad, of course, I make it no secret that I actively enjoy the eye-bleeding torture sessions of that game's visuals.

Longwinded rant. Oops.

[tirednerd]

instant gratification? or something more

a point on motivation for things that sit on the fringe of things I like.

I have a big family, and a set of cousins nearby that we often go on holiday with. One of the best ones was to Romania.

We did a trek across the country from Cluj Napoca to Bucharest, we had planned stops on our route down. I would go into it more right now- but I will just edit this later with the information. I don't need another excuse of a long-winded piece of shit I start to keep myself away from studying even longer than I already have.

Either way, it was my second time planning a trip like this from flights to accommodation etc. I had my own interests in the trip but had such little understanding of why I enjoyed it so much - it wasn't without its issues but even looking out on it now I still think of it favourably. which I don't for the last one we did in Prague- the less said about the better.

Only looking back onto it now do I see that I had picked Dracula up as a special interest, but like not in the vampire way. like in the guy who it was based off XD Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia.

Not only did solidify himself randomly into a number of my favourite harry potter fanfictions, but please see an aunts love, by emma lipardi and make a wish by rorschans blot. It's a normal thing to have on your mind - ok? Either way landing in Transylvania and going to Bran Castle scratched that itch so well.

I also like any normal 21-year-old I had picked up some summer reading for my holiday, mine just happened to be Dante's Inferno, of course. The voivode also had a couple of books on Dante as well - those being Papini's Dante Vivo, which was amazing at the time. I felt connected XD (delusional gworl!!)

(image 1, photo taken by me. Shows the glass-covered bookcase found in Bran castle in Romania. The castle that housed Vlad III, prince of Wallachia, known as Vlad the Impaler and used as inspiration for Dracula. The picture shows a number of cloth-bound books including the one mentioned previously, Papino's Dante Vivo, a biography of Dante)

Anyway, I had an amazing time on holiday, and Vlad the impaler, in all his political moves and the dramatisations the modern world has done with him and his name kept my interest and I had a fabulous time. Would 100% go again and I would recommend a visit to Bran castle if you are ever in the area.

My parents have only ever brought me like merch twice for me in my life. Once was a t-shirt for bran castle bought as we lined up to enter. the other was a zip-up hoodie for CERN which was another trip I planned and hustled our group of 13 to the border so I could see CERN... All the way from Zurich mind you, the opposite side of the country.

Looking back on my life and being able to rename the often wide-ranging and insane lengths I went through for special interests has been wild. But also enlightening - I mean for fucks sake - I literally made an entire blog about self-appointed homework as I was genuinely honestly researching alpha particle treatments in Europe for an essay. In the middle of the fucking summer. Because see I was in so far deep with my particle physics special interest.

So yeah! I hope you enjoyed this! its utterly useless in regards to information, usefulness or anything really but the reality of recognising and reevaluating growing up knowing NOW that I have ADHD/Autism is insane. Like why didn't anyone fucking help me? BWHAHAHA

what the hell is life man

PS> This entire post coming out as a form of critical commentary on my lack of motivation to study is wild. I am indeed struggling to feel anything regarding my upcoming exams, and it is insane. It's not that I am not worried, I VERY MUCH AM. but I am not freaking out or doing anything and it is killing me.

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,�� I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le g��teau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[writtenmarauder]

Smell (Peter Pettigrew x Reader)

Summary: In potions class you come across a particular potion.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist: here

Author’s note: Shorter than usual but still cute. Peter was a good friend of them before 1981 so don’t come for me.

I was sitting in the courtyard talking to my friends. I spotted the four infamous Gryffindors. Peter looked my direction and I waved at him and smiled. He waved back, however not without his friends noticing. The trio with him all turned to me. Me and my friends were ready to go to class, but I had some books to pick up so I told them to go ahead. A figure towered over me. I finished picking up my stuff and looked into their eyes. I could’ve guessed... Sirius Black and his signature smirk.

"Sirius Black. What brings you to me on this semi sunny day?" "Well, funny that you would ask. You see, I saw you wave at Wormtail." "Wormtail?" "Peter, it's an inside joke."

"Yeah, Peter and I are partners in potions." "So you're friends?" "You could say that. At least I would consider us being friends. Why the sudden interest, Black." "You see I'm cupid's advocate and when I see two souls loving each other I just need to step up. If I didn’t it would be a crime."

My eyes shifted from Sirius’ to Peter, who walk over to us. A little redder and he’d be as red as a tomato. He grabbed Sirius’ collar and dragged him away. It was the most adorable scene I had ever seen. I chuckled and gazed a little while longer.

"No, Peter, wait! I wasn't done yet!" Sirius pleaded. "He is right you know. You should really give him a chance." I heard.

I rolled my eyes and turned around.

"James Potter, do you always sneak up on other students?" "Only on important occasions. Just hear me out okay. Peter is a really nice guy." "I am aware. Like I said to Sirius. Peter and I are friends." "So why not ask him on a date or something?"

I thought about his words. My silence made him smile. I knew I said too much by keeping quiet.

"Prongs!" "Gotta run, anyway think about it."

I sighed and picked up my bags. Funnily enough potions was the next class. Peter was already there, head in his hands. I smiled and sat next to him.

"Hey." I smiled. "Hi, sorry about my friends." "Don't be. To be honest it was kind of... sweet."

Peter studied my features and frowned.

"I’m being serious. Your friends are really loyal, Peter. Yes, no doubt that they embarrassed you a bit back there, but that's what they do especially those guys." “I guess so they're pretty great." "Good day class! Pop quiz. You'll be identifying the potions in front of you. You all have different ones so no cheating. For safety reasons do not drink it."

I groaned and opened my books. Remus and Sirius had the easiest one: Amortentia. Lucky them. Peter and I went to work. I was reading something that might help us out loud and went to grab it, he did the same, we accidentally brushed our hands against each other. Peter and I both blushed offering the other to take it. We smiled and swiftly moved past it. I put my hand on his as I pointed towards the potion.

"Volubilis Potion." Peter and I exclaimed together. "Well done." Slughorn smiled, “don’t cause trouble until the others are done.”

We high fived and joined his friends who were also ready. We had gathered around the Amortentia potion. It was gorgeous. Lily sat besides me cause her friends were still working.

"What do you smell, Y/N?"

I took a deep breath and immediately recognised the same smell of food, I smelled a fireplace and I smelled Peter's scarf. I smirked and leaned back.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Black?" "What you’re not going to tell me!? You're killing me!" "I like them. They would make a great member of our group." Remus laughed, his nose stuck in a book again.

I smiled and looked at all of them. This was great.

"You'll tell me later, right?" Peter asked. "I'll think about it." "Oooh, you're good," James smiled.

Peter smelled the potion. I studied his nose wiggling slightly. He leaned back in his chair and smirked.

"Let me guess YOU're not going to tell me either."

Peter looked at me and I shook my head. This was too fun.

"I don't think I will."

Seeing Sirius upset about not knowing if Peter and I would date was kind of hilarious. Slughorn dismissed class. My friends tapped me on the back and we walked to the next class together. Peter followed me. He started talking about the whole situation, making us fill the halls with laughter. We were floating between our friend groups. My friends a few steps ahead, the marauders were trailing behind us. Peter and I shared a glance and as if coordinated we took off. We hid in the Room of Requirements. I could barely contain my laughter. I looked around and saw a table in the middle with a few candles and food. It was very romantic. Peter smiled and held out his hand.

"Can I interest you in a date?" "I would love that."

Peter was a real gentleman. We talked for hours yet time seemed frozen. I hadn’t had this much fun in a long time.

"We should go, we'll miss class." "Yeah, you're probably right, although I’m pretty sure we already missed it." "I had a lot of fun, Peter." "Me too."

I leaned closer to Peter and pecked his lips. I pulled back, but he followed my lips and kissed me again. I blushed.

"So you never told me what you smelled in the Amortentia." "I thought the kiss made it obvious." "I just don't want to be tricked again. If you’re going to be in this with me I need to be sure you won’t play me." "I smelled a fireplace, food and I smelled your clothes more specifically your scarf. I would recognise that smell anywhere."

Peter smiled and opened the door for me. A spark in his eyes hinted towards the exciting adventure lying ahead of us. We snuck into transfiguration and tried to stay out of trouble.

"How nice of you two to join us after 2 hours." "Sorry Professor." "Detention both of you."

Peter and I looked at each other.

"Guess we're stuck together now." I smiled. "I guess we are... You smell amazing by the way."

I blushed and we tried paying attention. James and Sirius were trying to figure out what happened while we were away from the group. Time ticked by and Peter and I were talking the entire time about our amortentia, but also things we liked. His friends were nice enough to leave us alone. Sirius called it his duty so we could fall in love. If he only knew. Peter and I made our way to detention.

"It feels weird going to detention without the others." "It surprises me they didn't do anything to get detention."

Peter and I had to clean cauldrons. It was quiet for a long time, but it was a comfortable one. I smiled and glanced his way.

“So the guys and I were planning on going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, get some Zonko’s, would you like to join us? We could go grab a drink afterwards.” “That actually sounds really good.” “yeah?” “Yeah.”

We heard cheers from the corridor. Peter tried to hide his embarrassment behind the stack of cauldrons, but I nudged him. I leaned in and softly whispered

“We should prank them.”

Peter had the biggest grin on his face. This promised to be a great adventure.

[kimageddon]

Star Wars Fics

I was challenged by @ashotofspotchka . So I did it.

The Prompt

Made this a Tech x Reader fic. I got inspired. And became a bit longer that intended.

I heard y'like Tech?? @eyecandyeoz @fallenrepublick (tag a fan!)

The Wedding

Well this was a right mess to be in. How had you even gotten into this situation? Oh of course… Cid. As much as you admired her, she was a tricky one. If not for her you would have never been invited to her salon, nor would you have met the most frustrating band of men you’d encountered. And their adorable little sister of course.

Had you not taken that job with them a few months ago, you would not have gotten to know them so well. Not been put in so many ridiculous situations and nearly losing your head. You wouldn’t have that new scar across your thigh… and you wouldn’t have grown to like them so much.

Damn it. Your mentor always told you not to get too attached to people, one never knew when they would find each other on opposite sides of the field so to speak. Casual acquaintances were one thing. Friendship was not a good idea. Anything more was downright dangerous. You told yourself it was alright to have a little affection for them. That it was alright to laugh and make jokes, to share a meal with them, to make them smile. That was alright… wasn’t it?

You let out a sigh wishing the ceremony would soon be over. Not that it wasn’t lovely. Of course it was. The venue was beautifully decorated, from the flowers to the guests, everything was stunning. A perfect picture of romance and love and devotion.

You usually detested weddings. There was one incident when you were young and… well it spoiled the idea of them to you. Though this was… actually rather nice. The group, you included, were tasked with providing security for the wedding as a favour to one of Cid’s associates. It was one of the more ridiculous missions… though even you had to admit, you cleaned up alright in a silken dress and heels. It had been a while since you’d had to go undercover and this was… well it was rather fun.

The downside of course had been seeing the boys in their suits. It wasn’t good for your heart. If they looked a picture of badass intimidation in full armour, then the five of them in suits were just perfect.

Hunter even had his hair swept back, though it took you a second to recognise him without the bandana. Wrecker had been a little grumbly about feeling unprotected but was very pleased when you told him he was very handsome. Crosshair had rolled his eyes at first, but gotten very offended when you snatched his toothpick from his lips. Echo had a moment when he was finally dressed. You’d been tying his bowtie when he’d let out a little huff and gave a small smile, saying he “felt human again.” Your heart broke at these words because even with his brothers he still felt… lesser. You had been quick to assure him that he was more human than anyone you knew and that the prosthetics meant nothing on that. Seeing him puff up with pride again was worth nearly getting shot last week.

Even Omega had a pretty dress on and flats tied to her ankles with ribbons. You and she had picked a dress to match Hunter’s suit specifically, she looked up to her big brother so very much, you often thought he was more like a father really, but kept these thoughts to yourself for now.

The last one to join you was the one that affected you the most of course. Tech stepped out onto the landing platform looking like a million credits and like he should have a hot woman on each arm. Like he could make any woman swoon with just a wink.

Hot damn.

Of course he would not do such a thing, and was just looking around, observing the surroundings for possible points of attack, vulnerability and in general taking in the surroundings. As you were also meant be doing. Internally you swore and after drinking in his obliviously gorgeous self, you’d returned to praising the way Omega had pinned her hair without needing your help.

Tech had of course been one of the members of the self-proclaimed ‘Bad Batch’ that you had found the most interesting. He always knew at least five facts about the planet or target or mission that the others didn’t. Always reading, always observing. His eyes behind his goggles were never still. One could think him cold if they didn’t look close enough. But he had a deep passion for knowledge, for technology… its no wonder he had chosen such a name. Practical. To the point. You liked that about him. You like quite a bit about him as you recently discovered. The way he could fix anything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about learning new things. The way he was so damn efficient at his job, he knew the Havoc Marauder inside and out. The little smile when the two of you shared an inside joke. Or the way he rolled his eyes whenever one of his brothers exasperated him. The way he was always right there to help Omega over large stones or down the stairs of the ship. He was so thoughtful like that, despite not really talking about it.

Actually no. No, you didn't like that. It was just positive observations. That’s all. He was a colleague… maybe a friend. Maybe. There was nothing more to it, you told yourself. There wasn’t anything meant in the little brushes of your fingers when you two passed items between each other. Or passed in the hold of the ship. Or when you were squashed together when hiding from Imps. He didn’t think like that. Right?

Currently, you were standing on one side of the large room, waiting for the bride to arrive. On one side were you, Hunter and Crosshair, standing alongside the pews. On the other, was Omega, Echo, Wrecker and Tech. You wished Tech was on your side of the room, then he wouldn’t be in your vision at least. Not that it meant anything! You were allowed to admire the handsome technician of course, but that's all it was. He certainly wasn’t looking back at you every minute or so either. You were probably imagining it. You had to keep your eyes out for any breaches in security. Any guests acting strange. Certainly not staring at the drop-dead gorgeous clone in glasses across from you.

“Feeling alright, Feisty?” Hunter asked in a low whisper. You smirked at the nickname, apparently you had made an impression on them in the first mission when the client had gotten too mouthy. “Your heart rate is higher than usual.” He added, and you could hear definite amusement in his tone.

You pursed your lips together, trying not to smile from embarrassment. “I’m fine Hunter.” You replied out of the corner of your mouth. Another sweep of the venue with your eyes-- oh kriff Tech was looking your way. Your eyes met for just a second before you tore them away. You heard Hunter chuckle.

“You sure?” He muttered, folding his arms,

“Shut up, Hunter.” You retorted with a soft huff. He chuckled again and you felt your face grow hot. By the nine moons of Endor you wanted to run. It was then the music began and you steeled yourself. The ceremony was beginning.

It was lovely, really. Very sweet, lovely and romantic. The Togruta and his Twi’lek bride seemed very in love if the look on the groom's face was to be believed. He practically lit up like a beacon on seeing her. You had the brief thought... would anyone do that for you? Before immediately pushing it away. Those sorts of thoughts were dangerous. You were sure that it was going to be boring… but you couldn’t help but get a little distracted when they began to say their vows.

“...my darling. There is so much I want to say to you. So much I have felt and left unsaid, I am sure you know just how I feel just by the way I look at you.”

Your eyes instinctively flicked to the otherside of the room. You glimpsed his eyes on you and was immediately caught in the depths of his soft brown eyes. The gentle and kind look you had seen many times, but thought nothing of. He was just kind, that’s who he was. In this moment though-- you were sure there was… a little more to it.

“...It was not easy to let myself open up… to bring myself to acknowledge my feelings but in one moment I knew they were endless and unrelenting. I love you from the depth of my soul and I never want to be apart from you…”

Oh hells… these vows were so saccharine sweet that normally you would be gagging… but these ones hit a little too close to home. You couldn’t stop your eyes from being tugged toward the suited clone trooper opposite you, no matter how you forced them away, to scan the room for danger, they were always drawn back to him. Always him.

“...When I met you you were just so wild. Such a firecracker…!”

There was a laugh across the room and you almost jumped, reminding yourself you were in a crowd. Though none of them paid attention to you. Only one.

“...It was like seeing the sun for the first time, with you in my world colours were brighter, food was sweeter, I found myself longing for times when we could be together, even in the small moments…”

You recalled the times Tech and yourself had been together, doing maintenance, repairs, listening to the music through the entertainment channels. The little laughs, the simple things.

“...not everything was easy, and there has been so much danger…”

You remembered your last serious injury, the piece of twisted metal sticking out of your leg while you hauled ass back to the ship, firing behind you to cover the boys. The way Tech’s eyes had become as big as moons when you finally collapsed, and they saw how bad the injury was.

“... but I always trusted you to get me through anything. I love you, my darling. With all my heart, and soul and with every beat of my heart and breath in my body. I will be yours even after all the stars in the galaxy burn out.”

You had been unable to tear your gaze from Tech’s for the last minute or so and you could feel your face burn. It was only when the vows were done and the bride and groom kissed, their hands wrapped together in a red ribbon and the other guests clapped in support that you snapped out of your little reverie. You joined, half-heartedly in the applause but you felt… strange. You really wanted this mission to be over. Or a drink. Yeah, a drink would be good.

[henryobsessed]

The Veterinarian and the Werewolf - Chapter 8

Word Count: 1879

Warning: trigger - hunting, and demeaning verbal abuse.

A/N thanks again to my beautiful @sillyrabbit81 for your editing and @amberangel112 for your encouragement.

Chapter 8

Henry could not understand why Jessie was still considering going out with this jerk. He huffed at Joe’s words and was pleasantly surprised at Tom’s reaction. Pleased to have someone in his corner, he nuzzled into the young man’s arms. It felt nice, an odd feeling of loss and regret pulled at his soul. He hadn’t seen his nephew in five years, he would be fifteen years old now four years younger than Tom. Memories of their last time together flooded his mind, the feel of his hands running through his fur. Even then he had refused to change, sadly his nephew had never known him in Human form.

The packhouse was large, made of local stone it would be considered menacing to outsiders. But for those invited in, it was a house filled with love. They had found Henry and his nephew Adam just outside their forest line, half-starved, dehydrated and desperate for care. The pack doctor had tended to Henry whilst one of the pack's mothers had shared her milk with the little pup. Adam had captured the mother’s heart and at Henry’s approval had adopted him into the pack. Henry had grieved the loss of his only kin but been so grateful to them. He knew he could not look after the little one, not with his heartbroken in pieces.

Over the next ten years, he had come and gone from the house checking up on Adam, watched as he grew strong, not only physically, but emotionally he had developed into a beautiful soul. Their last time together they had sat just like he was now with Tom. He had curled up next to Adam, his head in his lap, Adams fingers running through his fur. “I wish you could change for me Uncle, I see all the other dads and sons playing together and I love the idea that when I change next year we can run together. Then I can finally talk to you and hear your voice back. But I want to know what you look like, to be able to hug you like I see that others hug their dads.” His face had added to Henry’s grief looking so heartbroken and longingly at him. He had tried at that moment, had attempted to honour his request but his human side was so lost, hidden in pain. He had left the house that day, knowing even if it broke his heart, he needed to let his nephew grow with his new pack and not be held back by him.

Now nestled against Tom he regretted that decision. He heard a chuckle soft and happy. “Well look at you two. I would never have guessed Wolfy could be so comfortable with another human. I haven’t seen him like that with anyone except with me. What’s your secret Tom?” Her bright eyes landed on Tom who had continued to scratch behind Henry’s ears.

“I don’t know Miss Jessie, but I have always loved wolves, well any kind of animal really but especially wolves.”

She seemed thoughtful as she eyed them both making Henry wonder what she had planned. “Tom, are you free tonight? I have a date and I really don’t want to leave Wolfy alone again.” Henry felt Tom stiffen. Wondering what was wrong with the request, he moved his head to look up at the boy.

A brief look of disapproval flashed in his eyes before they softened as he looked down and saw Henry watching him. “Yes, Miss Jessie. I would love to spend more time with this beautiful boy.” Internally he chuckled at Tom’s words, if only he knew he was twelve years older than him.

That afternoon Henry, Jessie and Tom spent out in the garden. Tom seemed to fit beautifully into their friendship group kneeling beside Jessie as they planted new flowers and shrubs where they had pulled up the weeds. Together, Henry dug the holes, Tom placed the plants and held them in place whilst Jessie filled the soil around them. Henry enjoyed hearing the light conversation between his Mate and his new friend until it became heavier. “So, Tom, when did you begin to love wolves? I know your father traps them, so I’m interested as to why you don’t follow his belief.”

Tom continued to work, as a gentle hum was heard working up from his throat. “I know why Dad does it, although I don’t think he is correct. He blames the wolves for his loss of cattle, but I haven’t seen that many around. The wild dogs are more to blame but he won't listen. They have a group that meet purely to discuss the wolf problem, but in my whole life, the only large group I have seen was back when I was four. It’s the first and last time Dad allowed me to come to a hunting party. Mom was horrified that he was taking me, but I wanted so much to be with Dad, and he wanted me to be just like him.”

Henry shuddered as the boy spoke as if by some force of nature, he knew that he was about to hear what had happened that day. He also sensed the grief radiating off the boy, wanting to calm him he pushed his body into Tom’s side. Nuzzling his head as if to say, “It's ok, I’m here for you.” Tom let out a heavy chuckle as if he had heard Henry’s voice.

He sat back looking down at Henry as he spoke, “Thanks Wolfy, you would think that I would not remember something that happened that long ago, but it's imprinted in my mind. They had been tracking a pack that had only just entered the area, convinced the rest of the ranchers that they were a risk to our lively hood, that we couldn’t let them nest here. So, the best of their marksman left, when we found them all, sitting around a tree, curled up sleeping, all I wanted to do was go play with the cuddly animals. Dad kept pulling me back holding me still and quiet. I didn’t understand until the loud bangs began.”

Tom’s voice wobbled at this point and Jessie who had been silent up till this time also came closer. She pulled him into her side, her arm encasing his thin body as his shoulders began to shake. “I started screaming as I saw a single wolf with a baby on its back running away, Dad aimed for it but I managed to push the barrel up making him miss. I got the thrashing of my life that night. I couldn’t sit for a week, but it was worth it. I was never allowed to come again after that, not that I wanted to. It took a while, but Dad eventually began to trust me enough to check the traps. I am glad too because it meant I could help this fella.”

Jessie held the boy as his sobs subsided. Henry was trying to hold his anger in, these were the people who had destroyed his family. And yet this one boy had not only saved him once but twice, his gratitude was the only thing stopping him from wanting to go rip the throats out of the group. Ignorance and fear were the driving forces that ended his family, if only they knew the wolves would only ever take a sick animal, and sometimes the young, never the strength of the herd. They would never kill without need. But the wild dogs he had seen were giving us a bad name.

Jessie's voice interrupted his thoughts, the softness not hiding the grief in her own. “Was that near here Tom?” How did Jessie know?

“Yes, Miss Jessie, by the tall tree in the middle of the forest.”

She silently picked up the tools, both animal and human watching her, wondering what she was thinking. Sighing she stood up, “Come, it’s getting dark and I need to get ready for this date.” She walked silently back into the house. The boy and the wolf looked at each other before both followed.

Jessie fixed dinner for Tom and Henry then left to dress, leaving the pair to their own devices. Tom seemed quiet after revealing his early childhood trauma and Henry was eager to help calm the boy. After eating, he plodded into the living room, jumped up on the couch and yipped in Tom’s direction. Chuckling, Tom responded, “You want to watch some TV boy?” Nuzzling the remote, he yipped eagerly hoping to distract the boy from his thoughts.

Tom settled next to him and picked up the remote, they settled on watching a rerun of M.A.S.H before they both heard the clicking of heels and the rapping of knuckles on the front door. Open-mouthed both Henry and Tom sat dumbstruck as Jessie walked down the stairs in a light yellow sundress her dark hair flowing softly twisted into waves. “Wow Miss Jessie, you look amazing” got in first before Henry followed with his eager Yip. Giggling Jessie smiled softly at them both, “Ok I won't be out late, but even so, don’t get up to any mischief”

This caused both Henry and Tom to laugh, one sounding more like a series of yips. The door opened and closed and Jessie was gone. Together the two sat, watched movies and shared some popcorn that Tom had found in the pantry. Just as the end of a Witcher episode finished they heard yelling coming from outside. “I don’t give a dam Boyd, you had no right to hit that poor man, It was an accident.” The front door opened as Jessie stormed inside, the front of her dress had a brown stain down the side of her skirt.

Next Boyd came crashing into the room his face red as he reached out to grab Jessie's arm, this caused Henry to jump into action his snarl reaching the ears of the big man before he saw the wolf racing towards him. Jumping back almost stumbling over the kitchen chair Boyd’s face grew hotter, “Keep that mutt controlled Jessie otherwise I’ll control him for you with my shot Gun.”

The air went still as Henry felt Jessies and Tom's hands on him, “That is enough Boyd Hatfield, you are no longer welcome in this home. Get. Out!” Surprise filled Boyd’s face as he not only recognised Tom but registered his marching orders. Menace replaced the look of surprise, “Listen here little girl, you better watch that attitude of yours. I’ll allow you to cool off but we are not finished talking, and if you value the life of that mutt you will do as your told.” Punctuating the statement with a nod of his head he turned and strolled out the door.

Heart pounding he turned looking up at Jessie who seemed to have lost her speech, her face pale and her hands shaking. Tom moved swiftly pulling her into his arms as she began to cry, frustrated that it wasn’t his arms holding her, Henry pushed his body against her to show he was there, but inside he was furious. That man had threatened not just himself but Jessie, but he had to focus on her right now, she was more important no matter how much he wanted to go after him.

Chapter 9

[inkformyblood]

You Speak Of Grace

Commander Cody Week Day 02 Origins [ @commandercodyweek ]

Pairing: Codywan

Summary: Cody is about to meet his new Jedi, but he will make sure his men are as prepared as they can be. Little does he know that Obi-Wan is anything but what he was expecting.

“Once more.” Cody’s voice rang out as the test alarms died away, eliciting a fresh wave of groans from the assembled clones. From behind his helmet, Cody glanced over the group, running through the list in his mind once again. The heavy gloves hid the faint trembling of his hands as his fingers danced over the datapad, drawing up another scenario. “Test Scenario 00726. Oya!”

Distantly, Cody could almost hear Alpha-17’s low rumbling laugh echo forth from his memory at their displays of grumbling compliance. He carefully ignored the brother at the back — Crys, he thought, judging from the bright yellow daubed over his pauldrons and the dark hair growing up through the unnatural yellow dye — who ducked behind a console and emerged after swallowing down the last dregs of his caf.

The consoles rang shrilly as they ran through the necessary checks once more, heads lowered as the other clones focused on their own work. Cody sensed movement just behind him, but didn’t turn, watching the grey painted shape of Helix, their medic, move up behind him in the reflection of a console.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Helix’s voice was soft but no less filled with purpose, expecting to be heard and understood. Cody was the Commander of the Battalion, but Helix was the medic, and that was something entirely different.

“Granted.”

Helix tapped the comm on his wrist, shifting to a private channel, and Cody stifled the reflexive twinge of fear that rattled down his spine. Fear was useful, Alpha-17 had barked at the younger clones in the Command Track, echoing the words of the trainers before him, but it was also dangerous. Drawing in a deep breath, letting it flow through him rather than rule his thoughts, Cody switched to the private channel as well.

“You are doing a good job,” Helix murmured, his voice slightly distorted over the comm. “You are already a good commander, and having a Jedi won’t change that.”

Cody didn’t respond, didn’t want to think about what Helix could read in the sudden stillness of his hands or the lines of tension that flickered into life along his shoulders, but merely nodded, his throat tight.

Helix lightly tapped the back of his wrist guard against Cody’s hip in a silent benediction. “I’m going to head down to medical. Over the next few days, I’ll need to check on the troopers and the Jedi to get a baseline.”

“I’ll draw up a rota,” Cody promised, adding yet another item onto his mental checklist. Dimly, he spared a thought for how his brothers in the command track were faring. Their own comms channel had been eerily quiet since they had received their battalion allocations and left in the early hours of the morning with one final message each of “Oya”.

“Appreciate it,” Helix said with an inclination of his head and stepped away. The other medics, Border and Patience, shadowed him like ghosts, barely half a step behind in a haunting unison that would have made the trainers proud.

Cody turned back to the men, tracking their progress as they worked through the machines, feeling a warm glow of pride settle in his chest. This would work. This had to work.

A warning prickled at the base of his skull, and Cody was already turning to face the doorway by the time his mind had drawn the context clues together.

As Helix left, his pace had slowed slightly, and the soft whoosh of the doors closing took longer than it should have. One of the troopers had raised his head, gaze fixed at something over Cody’s shoulder as one of his hands formed the beginning of the symbol for ‘Mother’, a warning of being watched back on Kamino. But the critical clue was the message flashing from the Command Track Chat from Bly that only read ‘oh no my Jedi’s hot.’

“Hello there.”

“Hello, sir,” Cody said, running on instinct as the rest of his mind went blissfully blank. The only information he had been given was a name and a grainy holo picture to recognise his Jedi by. A small thrill ran down his spine at that thought. Possession was still something all the clones were getting used to, and the knowledge that this man was his, was theirs, was more than Cody could have thought possible.

“Jetti on bridge,” Cody barked over his shoulder to the others, feeling the weight of their eyes on his back.

Obi-Wan smiled, the edges of his eyes — so unbelievably blue, like the point where the ocean met the sky — crinkling. “Please, Commander, call me Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody repeated with a nod, further committing it to memory. He was grateful for the helmet that was still covering his head as he felt the heat settle in his cheeks. Full armour was cumbersome for now, but it had been better to be safe than sorry.

“From what I understand, you have names as well?” Obi-Wan’s gaze darted around the room; his voice pitched low. “I don’t wish to cause any offence; this situation is very new to me.” He tucked his hands into his sleeves, clasping them in front of him.

“CC-2224 is my designation. But my name is Cody, sir.”

It was as if Cody’s words ripped the oxygen from the room, every trooper freezing in place in perfect military rest. Obi-Wan had to feel the pressure lowering onto his shoulders, but he merely grinned once more.

“Cody. That’s an excellent name and a good choice.” Obi-Wan paused, glancing around the room and meeting the gaze of every trooper who quickly lowered their heads back to their consoles at Cody’s signal.

“I trust I can count on you to keep me right, Cody? I will defer to your expertise.” Obi-Wan’s grin was as warm as sunlight, intoxicating when it was directed at just Cody, and he felt his cheeks burst with heat once more.

“Yessir,” Cody said, snapping back into parade rest out of habit.

“I’m not sure what the Kamioans have told you, but if you’re amenable, full armour outside of active combat isn’t required.” Obi-Wan paused with a heavy sigh, looking far older than he was for a moment before he pushed whatever memory it was away. “This isn’t my first war, but no need to make it harder than it needs to be.”

“So,” Cody swallowed, turning his head slightly to track Boil and Waxer’s whispering, their heads pressed together out of the corner of his eye, “Permission to dismiss the men to store their extras?”

“Permission more than granted, Commander.”

If Cody had thought that his mind went blank before, it was nothing compared to being alone on the bridge with Obi-Wan. In every scenario, every training simulation or exercise, nothing could have prepared him for this moment. Alpha-17 and the others took after Prime almost perfectly, and that applied to his lack of attraction as well, at best able to offer rough support to a heartbroken trooper in basic training.

Obi-Wan began to move around the bridge, glancing over the simulated manoeuvres that had been programmed in with a gleam of interest in his eyes. “If you want, Cody, you can store your belongings as well. We’re going to be working together for a while, and I see no reason to start out with extreme formality.”

Cody’s hands were steady as he reached up to remove his helmet, subtly pressing at the itch that had erupted two hours ago at the nape of his skull as he did so. Obi-Wan’s face softened as he watched him, unable to hide the obvious curiosity in his eyes.

“I can definitely see the resemblance.”

Cody laughed, the noise startled out of him, jaw snapping shut with a click.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he began, but Obi-Wan cut him off with a wave of his hand, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

“Please, don’t apologise, Cody. If there is anyone at fault, then it is me.”

“No, sir.” Cody paused to find the correct words, tapping his fingers against the edge of the datapad as he thought. This wasn’t what he had been expecting, Obi-Wan wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he always had been quick on his feet. “As you said, no reason to start out with extreme formality. No fault here.”

Obi-Wan hummed quietly as he thought, and Cody took a moment to inspect the Jedi he would be serving under. The robes hid much of his frame, but Obi-Wan had moved with confidence, despite the fact that the fabric wouldn’t give much protection or possibly act as a hindrance. Cody made another note on his mental list, needing to confer with the other Commanders once everyone had settled again.

“I think this is going to be an excellent partnership, Cody,” Obi-Wan said at last. “With that in mind, with the full reassurance that you can tell me no at any time for whatever reason, would you like to join me for a cup of tea? I believe there is some final paperwork to go over.”

“Yessir,” Cody answered before the full implication hit him. Obi-Wan would be sharing, even serving most likely, something precious of his, something he had deliberately chosen to bring aboard a battleship, knowing the cargo restrictions. “I’d be honoured.”

“Excellent! Anakin, my padawan—” Obi-Wan paused, and Cody wordlessly fell into pace at his side, a few inches shorter than the other man as he titled his head to continue watching him, “—he never quite got the taste for it, unfortunately.”

“I am looking forward to it, sir.”

Obi-Wan gave him a look, his grin all fond curled edges.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody corrected himself. He felt like a fool to hope, but it was a hope he held onto tightly.

Out of sight, Cody tapped a message into the Command Chat before silencing it, knowing the explosions it would spawn. ‘Mine’s better, vod.’