#wednesday writing wisdom

[beccawise7]

Sometimes, human beings need to hear the words (followed by action... naturally. ;)

~beccawise7 💜🖤

[zeldaelmo]

Aha, so I said I'm working on the Advent Calendar for this year, right? I do! I started chapter 13 today, so it's coming along and I'm halfway through the first draft.

It's going to be a post Echoes of Wisdom story! I really enjoyed the game. I talked about fic ideas with my friend @bahbahhh and told her that I was surprised everyone had them have a mutual crush on each other. Because of course that's too boring for me. 🤣

This is from chapter 1 of the story "Of Fading Echoes"

At the ball, the musicians played music that hardly qualified for more than some round dances in walking tempo, unlike the jovial songs they had at the parties back in Suthorn Village. The wine had been sweet and smooth, too. Back home, when he and Lueburry celebrated some progress they made, they drank tart beer, homemade and honest. He had shaken so many soft hands, too! Everyone wanted to congratulate them on their victory over Null, and everyone knew at least one person who had been swallowed by a rift. The thanking part was okay, Link mused, rubbing patterns into the velvet on the arm rest with his fingers. Closing the rifts and bringing the victims back was of course Princess Zelda and Tri’s work, mostly, but before that, he had saved a lot of people by predicting where a rift would open, too.

And then, there was the part where he had fought alongside Princess Zelda and they had made sure no rifts would open ever again. So, yes, thanking him was alright but honestly, by now, he had had enough of it.

They had even put him in a soft, white-golden tunic! He looked like some kind of prince! He couldn't wait to slip his green clothes back on and go home, but first he was expected in Princess Zelda's study for tea. Which, he knew it already, would be sweet and weak, too. 

With a sigh, he sank deeper into the plush chair. It had been so exciting to fight alongside someone. Princess Zelda hadn't batted an eye at the obstacles they had faced, and had solved puzzles with wit and wisdom. Never once had she flinched, not even when the hit of a Lynel got a bit too close and she sustained a slash across her cheek. She had grinned at him in the face of the onslaught of monsters, the adrenaline pumping through her just like it pumped through him. They were like-minded, he had felt it then, clear as day. 

And now?

Nothing of that thrilling feeling was left. It was as if she had left her adventurous spirit behind in the still world. Sure, they didn't have much time to talk due to the celebrations. She seemed to have to stay an awful lot in her study, too, when there weren't hands to shake and flowers to receive. Paperwork, she had muttered, lots and lots to catch up on after being away for months. 

Hmpf. He wasn't sure what he had expected, of course she had another job to do. Unlike him who just stared out of the window of his guest room and watched the (soft) clouds passing by. 

[theimpalatales]

Have you just finished writing your book? Did you take part in NaNoWriMo 2023 and you're not sure what to do next?⁠ ⁠ Read my simple, seven-step guide to self-editing your novel.

Although I highly recommend authors work with a professional editor on their stories, I know that this is not an option for everyone. ⁠ Even if you are planning on working with a professional editor, it's worth spending time fixing some basic errors in your work before submitting it to an editor, who can then focus on the more complex elements of your story.⁠

[jcalexandrewrites]

“Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm.”

‭‭- Proverbs‬ ‭13‬:‭20‬ NIV

Read my fantasy novel, The Light Prince: Grail, available on Amazon in paperback and e-book.

[sereni-tea]

A Moment Beyond Time.

As I massaged my grandmother's feet today,

I looked at my hands and her feet,

and it was as if I was looking into a temporal mirror.

Time stood still and,

a poignant paradox unfolded before my eyes,

revealing a stark contrast between past, present & future.

My hands, symbolizing youth, inexperience,

cradled her feet,

weathered by time & experience.

The dichotomy was striking -

vitality & enthusiasm versus

the scars of time, effort and life's ups & downs.

I saw the young and old,

the new & worn,

the tears & triumphs.

Why was there, the spark in my eyes, the fire in my heart?

And why couldn't I found any of that in her?

There were no answers, but in that moment,

I realized that the spark in my eyes and the fire in my heart were a testament to the love and wisdom she had passed down to me.

And as I looked at my hands cradling her feet,

I knew that I would carry that spark and fire forward,

honoring our bond and the memories we shared.

Have you ever had such a brief moment of deep contemplation?!

[tracychamberlainhigginbotham]

(via Wednesday Wisdom: Expanding Social Circles)

[spookyxpickle]

Words of Wisdom Wednesday (July 3, 2024)

On Wednesdays, some like to wear pink. I, for one, like to share wisdom. And sometimes, I may even wear some pink! It's always a fun color. If it's the right shade of pink it may even look nice on me!

My words of wisdom for the day is this:

Pillows are great things to have lots of. You never know when you need something to scream into at a moment’s notice. I encourage all to have a sizeable amount for that purpose alone.

If you have enough, you can even make a pillow fortress to scream into! It’s like the fortress of solitude, but instead it’s all screams and poly-fil. Now doesn’t that sound nice and relaxing? And then, once all the screams are gone, maybe dance or take a nap, perhaps indulge in a nice snack. Too many things in this world are out of our control already, so why not do something for you when you can?

[recursive360]

"...The grimness is true; the happy ending is false..."

-Isaac Asimov

[danbensen]

A fun question this week for Wisdom Wednesday:

Let’s say there’s a common app that’s on almost everybody’s phone - imagine gmail with more market penetration. Now imagine that this app is Bad and it’s up to Our Hero to stop it! So Our Hero calls up the founder and CEO of the company that made the app and he threatens terrible threats if the Founder/CEO doesn’t…what?

That’s my question: what can the owners of a mobile app do that will disable that app on all its users’ machines?

A big red button, right?

[athenasrevenge-book]

WIP Wednesday

This scene is in the second chapter. Athena has escaped and killed those who kept her captive. She flew to where Pallas is living in owl form but she was pursed and attacked by a murder of crows, with something odd about them....

This is told from Pallas' perspective. Content warning for blood (sort of a little bit) and hostile birds.

Pallas jumped, startled by the noise. It was horrible, it sounded like something was dying. She went to the window and tried to see what was causing it. There was nothing in the alley right outside her window, it was too dark to see deeper into it and as far as she could see there was nothing on the street either. But then the screech came again and Pallas looked up. A furious battle was being fought in the air above the next house over. An owl, white and brown feathers stark against the dark sky, was fighting against what seemed to be a whole murder of crows. The crows were much harder to see, black as they were. She could only make them out when the light off the streetlamp gleamed off their shiny feathers, flashing a rainbow sheen.  The owl was losing, it was 10 to one, the crows coming from all sides, not giving the owl time to counter attack. Why were the crows out at night? The owl was already bleeding from two cuts. One across the top of its wing and chest. The other across it's lower belly. Instead of normal blood the cuts seemed to gleam gold…  A faint tug started up in Pallas' gut.  It couldn't be… No she hadn't been seen in centuries, they were all killed by those creatures.  But then the owl twisted in the air and Pallas could make out the markings at the center of its chest, the faint but definite outline of Medusa's head. She threw open the window. "Athena!" She shouted. The owl heard and turned its head, locking eyes with Pallas. She stepped aside, giving it an opening. The owl dove.

[shotmrmiller]

response to this but it got so long and ig im in my throuple era rn

@xoxunhinged i listened to one (1) song on repeat while writing this on the phone

okay yeah wait or just

it's ghost x price first.

Big burly men taking up too much space in the little coffee shop you work at or something and they're there like clockwork too. Every wednesday and friday, 8 am, usually the first clients of the day and all they order is a regular cup of joe. Plain. You offer alternative sweeteners, powdered creamer, but no dice.

Plain black. Like the occasional smudge of eyeliner(?) around the bigger one's eyes.

They're cute, in their own way. John is a blend of rugged charm and seasoned wisdom. The other, Simon, is mysterious. Guarded. Speaks only to his companion.

The pet names start to get to your head. Of course, you reason that John's just not from around here. His calling you sweetheart from across the room to grab your attention must be English.

But logic cannot stop the heat from licking up your cheeks when he does. or when Simon calls you something different altogether eventually.

"Mornin', pet."

It's even more gut-twisting when you catch glimpses of the occasional PDA: A large hand curling around an even bigger jean-clad thigh. Faces so close they could kiss (Waterboarding couldn't get the fact that you've rubbed your thighs together at the thought of them actually kissing out of you) and the fact that Simon's usually sharp gaze softens around the edges, pale gold whispering against the puckered pink of a barely visible scar beneath his face mask.

A couple. They're a couple. It's bittersweet, that feeling settling in your chest. Like dark chocolate coating your tongue. Honeyed nectar of love, the bitter bite of it not being your own.

Maybe it's time to go out with your friends to the bar.

Things take a nasty turn when Simon, out of the both of them, had come in alone and propositioned you on crisp, saturday morning.

Oh, the acid in your stomach felt like it was corroding the walls of your esophagus as it rose. You don't remember much of what you said but it'd been loud, vitriolic. You'd been so furious. Hurt that they had something so sweet, something they could call their own, and here comes this big dumb oaf looking for a piece of warm meat to stick his cock into on the side.

Your manager sent you home for the day.

And home you were headed, well more like the bus stop, stomping away and across the street but the hand that wraps around your arm to keep you in place is John's. (You'd been actually fighting to get away and he hadn't even tightened his grip enough to hurt. embarrassing.)

He clears things up. Tells you to forgive Simon, he's not the most verbose or eloquent with the words he does choose to speak. "He's good at receivin' orders instead of givin' 'em. isn't tha' righ'?"

The "yes, sir" that comes out of Simon is immediate. Obedient. Submissive. (gagging, i actually slammed the desk with my fist rn) A man who knows his place because it is etched in stone. Your teeth grind like rusted gears to keep from turning into a pool of liquid in broad daylight.

"What he meant," he roughly clarifies, "is that we would like you to share our bed." your face burns hot enough to sting. "If you want," John continues, limpid blue eyes fixed on your own.

He looks rather handsome in his uncertainty.

They don't even let you go home to wash and clean up when you nod. (Or shave. Simon had very audibly scoffed at your complaint about that. Said something crass about eating lollipops off the carpet)

The dynamic had been exactly what you'd expected it to be in the bedroom. When authority spoke, Simon listened. Intently. Without hesitation. When John ordered Simon— who'd sat with his broad chest curling around your spine, cocooning you in warmth and the faint scent of smoke, mahogany, and leather— to hook his hands behind your knees and pull your legs up to your shoulders, he'd done so in an instant.

The subtle burn of your hamstrings stretching pulled a hiss from your kiss-swollen lips.

"Bit o' pain with pleasure never hurt anyone, eh, sweetheart?" The deepened rumble of John's voice vibrated in your chest and made your toes curl.

Simon's steady breaths are drowned out by your shuddering ones when John puts his mouth on you, the prickle of his facial hair tickling your sensitive, heated skin.

The burning stretch of your muscles is nothing compared to the sweet sting of two fingers sinking into your hot sex. Pleasure wells in the corner of your eyes when he curls and scissors them while his slick tongue swirls your clit languidly.

He sends you over the edge with practiced ease, shaky limbs, and unsteady mewls. The kiss he plants on your still pulsing cunt is tender, as are your now unrestrained legs.

And he slants his lips-- still dripping slick, dewy beads collecting on his beard-- over Simon's whose mask is now long gone, his erection coming to sit heavy on the fatty mound of your pussy. You can feel the heat of his cock even through his clothes.

A saliva strand connecting them two snaps as he pulls away, glancing down to look at you, sweaty and unkempt, glassy eyes shamelessly staring back.

"I'd let Simon get his turn but," hands weave up your shirt and inside your sports bra while John's grab your legs and wrap them around his thick waist, "gotta prep ya first."

(?)

That comes back to mind after your limbs feel like cold syrup, warmth dribbling from your puffy lips and falling onto the damp bedsheets beneath your arse cheeks.

The question answers itself when Simon slots himself between your aching legs, uncut cock fat and hefty.

(dis)Respectfully, you feel thoroughly used and even now, that doesn't look like it's going to go in easy.

"Easy, love," John's voice comes from above you, "He won't hurt ya. Isn't tha' righ', Simon?"

Simon, who's dark eyes hadn't moved from where John's spend still steadily flowed, cut to him instantly. "Yes, sir."

He hums, a low, raspy sound. "How 'bout you tell our bird tha'?"

A rough hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressed on your fluttering pulse. "I won't hurt ya." His grip tightens, and the swoosh of blood roaring in your ears is deafening.

Much.

The world around you fades, senses attuned only to what's currently wrenching your swollen walls apart, going in, in, and in, it feels never-ending, it's so much, too much, until--

Your stomach clenches, it feels like it's folding in on itself, and a sharp feeling radiates below your navel.

Lips kiss your sweaty temple. "That's all there is. Did so well, eh, sweetheart? Took 'im real good, like you were meant for it."

His cock drags along your over-sensitive, raw nerves in a way that has fire licking up your spine as he pulls back. "Easy, Simon. You'll get your fun from me," John assures.

Your cunt clenches unbidden at that, vise-like around Simon who quietly groans.

The first roll of his hips pushes the air from your lungs, the second blanks your jumbled mind, the third has your nails sinking into whoever's forearms are beside your head, and the fourth has you confusing John's glittering eyes with stars.

And then he places your feet flat on his chest, his weight folding you in half, pinning you in place. Nowhere to run.

Your teeth clack when he thrusts firmly, tip of his cock sitting firmly against the plug of your womb.

"Easy does it, love. Jus' be good 'n take it," John mutters into your ear.

As if you had any choice.

After, when you're completely spent, they tell you to lay back, head propped up by a mountain of pillows, but to keep your legs open, let them see that pretty pussy, they want to see their cum spill out of you.

You thought the fucking Simon gave you had been rough. What John gives him from behind is attempted murder. He grabs at Simon's hair like it's the scruff of a bellicose dog. Pins him in place with his words, growled, thunderous, then his grip. Simon doesn't bare his crooked teeth once.

When your tired hand slithers down to between your legs, tips of your fingers smearing cum around your swollen flesh, arousal surprisingly panging deep in your core, the sheer force of John's thrusts rocks the bed with enough force to crack the wall and Simon whines like a dog in heat.

[moleskinenotebookconfessions]

[theimpalatales]

Vote and then click below to find out the answer

Option 1 is correct!

The noun is singular (woman) so the pronoun must also be singular, not plural.⁠ ⁠ If the sentence was, "Women must do as they please", here you can see that the noun (women) is plural, so in this case it would be correct to use a plural pronoun (they).⁠

[saritamian]

How should I respond to a low Salary hike after Performing well? A low salary hike not only disappoints you, but it bothers you for the entire year if you believe you deserve a higher raise. No matter how satisfied you are with your current salary, the low salary hike fills you with so much dissatisfaction that you lose your happiness for the hike that you still made in comparison to your previous salary.  Your attention is grabbed by the prefix “low” and you forget about the hike. There are two perceptions of a low salary hike disappointment: One is when you expect a certain hike as per the company standards. Second is when you find that you are given a low salary hike in comparison to your teammates. Find in the Blog: ●Employer’s expectation vs employee’s perception of a good Performance ●What reasons contribute to a low salary hike? ●How do you know that you performed well? ●Do the homework to find out why you feel you got a low salary hike before you Respond to it. ●4 steps to respond to a low Salary hike Head to the link in bio to read this Blog post and find how can you effectively respond to a low Salary hike? #thelocksandkeys #blogpost #salary #lowsalary #disappoinment #writing #employer #employee #boss #respond #blogger #wednesday #post #builiding #wisdom #instagrambusiness #brand #homeworkout #perception https://www.instagram.com/p/CoHq8tjPg5f/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 9

pairing: grid x reader

summary: you just got your wisdom teeth out, just in time for winter break fun with headcanons

a/n: thanks for the request, I missed the club❤️ ALSO! the original post just hit 1,500 notes??? like guys🥹 ilysm, you don’t even know. you are still reading my silly little writings, and i appreciate that more than you know. every like, comment, and reblog is the reason we are here 9 parts later (seriously you should see how happy i am when i see comments)

requests open masterlist

——————

- You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid other than Lance, obviously

- They were all surprised when it was announced that you were going to be missing Abu Dahbi

- Your oral surgeon only had that Wednesday free before Christmas

- …and let’s be real, your seat was secure, you weren’t going to win the WDC, and the constructors championship was locked in

- You would raise hell if you couldn’t enjoy the food around the holidays, so missing the last race it was

- You were exhausted from the season and appreciated the early break

- Lance just let it slip to the drivers on Friday a couple of hours after he got there

- You were sitting at home with Kimi, swollen and in pain all Friday

- “What do you mean she won’t be here? We have our presents for her” Fernando pouts

- Charles one day ships you cases of his gelato with a note telling you to feel better, he’s trying to get into the club for the gossip

- Lance gets invited to the club meeting to his surprise

- He assumes that they want to check in on you, despite them blowing up your phone

- No, he was VERY wrong

- Lance got roped into showing them videos of you on drugs

- Their favorite was the one of you when you first came out from being under

- “I’m married? Oh my god, I married Nico Hülkenberg? This is the best day of my life”

- You were sobbing tears of joy

- Nico was sent the video immediately, you gave him permission via text to post it the next day

- The second favorite was your favorite to laugh at

- You went on a massive rant about how Susie Wolff is a MILF and how you hoped Toto could fight because the female driver was your woman crush and you WILL have her

- Susie loved the video (George and Lewis sent it in the Mercedes family gc), Toto… not as much but he was amused

- You got a lot of fussing drivers on Facetime during the meeting

- You were loopy af from the painkillers and general exhaustion during it, it wasn’t your fault they called you late

- Kimi forced them to shut up and hang up so you could sleep

- Carlos joked about being relieved that there wasn’t another race for you to follow his trend during an interview

- You won the first race the next year

- Your phone started blowing up with messages on social media wishing you a quick recovery

- Most of the book club showed up to your home after Abu Dahbi, wanting to make a quick stop to check in before the break

- “Hello, wife,” Nico greets you when he sees you

- You joked you were about to file for divorce from Lance, who just sighed and went to get you a carton of LEC

- You had to film you opening your secret santa gift and send it to the F1 social team

- You got a quilt blanket that had a square for each book you read with the club since it started

- You actually started sobbing (you blamed the meds, even if you were actually crying)

- Lewis got the biggest hug ever, he enlisted help from Valtteri for all the books

- You forced them to cut the parts of you crying out of the video

- You got Logan an old iPod full of popular music (you hacked into his phone to check the genres he liked) from his childhood and now

- Obviously you added headphones and a couple chargers

- Logan used it all the time, he called you immediately to thank you

- You had the honors of choosing the first book over winter break

- You chose an F1 romance novel

- Boy oh boy were those meetings fun, just tearing up the book for its inaccuracy

- Daniel vowed to write an accurate one and sell it

- Spoiler Alert: he never did

- But Fernando did

- It was an international bestseller

[1d1195]

Toothpaste I

For you: 🐱 I hope you are feeling better and this is a little something to make you happy. Been thinking about this for a while.

~1.6k words

“Okay, don’t write emails to dentists when you’re in pain,” she shook her head tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.

Dr. Styles chuckled. His laugh was warm, like a chocolate fountain. Or a blanket on a cold January day. “I don’t have patients on Wednesdays,” he murmured.

Twenty-eight was her least favorite number. She dreaded the entire year when she finally hit her twenty-eighth birthday. It seemed like an entire year was going to mock her and she was right.

She got two cavities that year.

Twenty-eight was the number of teeth she had left after her wisdom teeth were pulled when she was sixteen. Twenty-eight was the number of brackets on her teeth that held her braces together when she was eighteen. Cavities plagued her. Sensitivity. Special mouth wash and special toothpaste were needed for the upkeep of her teeth.

When the pain started in her mouth again, she was frustrated, exhausted, and sad.

But this was the second time this tooth had to be filled. It wasn’t the first time her dentist had to fill a tooth more than once. She looked up a second office in response. Her heart was fluttering with anxiety. She had brought a book to read but she couldn’t focus. Her head was starting to ache. She left work early which stressed her out to no end because her boss was a dick and even though she should have just found a new job, she knew she wouldn’t find a better pay entry-level position than any law firm nearby. Her phone hadn’t stopped vibrating with messages and requests.

An hour. All she wanted was an hour to read her book and mourn the loss of her tooth enamel. Frustrated tears filled her eyes. Her mouth hurt and her head hurt.

“Dr. Styles is ready for you, Miss,” the hygienist said sweetly. Taking a deep breath, she collected her book back into her bag and headed toward the patient room with the hygienist down the hall. “Have a seat,” she smiled kindly. “M’just going to get you ready and then Dr. Styles will be in to look you over.”

She could feel her phone vibrating against her hip. The to do list she was anticipating was enough to amplify her headache and she was so close to crying the pain in her tooth was practically welcomed to relieve her of the anxiety and stress she was feeling.

“Good morning, love,” the dentist came in. Dark blue scrubs adorned his tall frame. He looked so handsome it left her speechless. He was looking at the computer reading over the history of her work and latest x-rays from the previous office. “Got some pain, hmm?” She nodded silently, trying to figure out how she didn’t know ahead of time that the dentist was hot as could be. That couldn’t be fair. “Y’okay, love?” He hummed glancing from the screen, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Yeah, just uncomfortable,” she murmured. “Busy day.”

He sat on the little wheelie stool and turned to look at her. His eyes were vibrantly green, his smile was sweet but sympathetic at the same time. “S’quite a bit of work y’had done, love,” he murmured and grabbed a pair of gloves to put on. “Y’got beautiful teeth in there,” he assured her.

“They’re always filled with cavities,” she muttered bitterly.

“M’sorry,” he frowned. “I noticed that myself, actually.” She felt like she was disappointing him by getting cavities. Although she had just met him, she didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Styles, which was such a bizarre worry. “Do y’need t’get that before I get started?” He glanced at the bag by her hip.

She sighed, grabbed her phone. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Her boss snapped so loudly she pulled the phone from her ear. Either Dr. Styles didn’t hear (which she didn’t see how) or he was being kind enough to ignore it.

“A dentist appointment. I sent you an email and put it in your calendar—”

“I need your help. Now.”

There was no argument to be had in his tone.

“Mr. Dalecki,” she started. “I’m very sorry, I’ll be there in a bit but I’m in so much pain—” Her voice cracked, and she felt the tears so close to the surface. Overwhelmed by her work and her pain.

“I don’t care.”

She opened her mouth to agree or argue, she wasn’t sure what was going to come out of her mouth but then suddenly her phone wasn’t in her hand.

“Mr. Dalecki, was it?” Harry said into the phone. “Dr. Harry Styles. She’s in immense pain and I’m insistent I take care of her cavity today. It might be a root canal. She’s in no condition to work today and probably not tomorrow either. Doctor’s orders. I’ll write her a note whatever you need, but she will not be in today,” Harry put her phone on the counter away from her as it started to vibrate again. “M’sorry I suggested getting it,” he said and held out the tissue box on the counter.

She sniffled. “I need a root canal?” She whimpered.

He chuckled. “Oh, love, no. M’sorry. I jus’ wanted that man off the phone,” he shook his head. “M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh,” she sniffed again. “I’m really sorry. I’m so overwhelmed and upset. I’m almost terrified of being here. I always have issues and my teeth are the worst,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, s’alright, love,” he assured her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Y’take care of your teeth right?” He asked.

“Religiously,” she assured him. “I brush three times a day. I floss daily sometimes twice. I use prescription toothpaste and mouthwash. I don’t eat lots of candy and I drink through a straw and water down juice or anything too sugary,” she had tears falling down her cheeks.

“Okay, love,” his thumb gently moved up and down her shoulder. She had never heard of a dentist having good bedside manners. “S’okay, m’gonna take a look now. Can I have y’sit back?” He murmured and slid back briefly on the chair and closed the door. She sniffled.

“I’m so sorry. I’m usually more put together than this,” she laughed tearily.

“S’okay I can tell y’frustrated. M’sister gets like this sometimes.”

She sniffled. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

He turned back, put a mask over his pretty face so she had no choice but to look at his gorgeous eyes magnified by the little glasses and light that shone in her face. “Y’have really nice teeth, love,” he assured her.

“You have to say that to everyone,” she mumbled when he turned to mark something in the computer.

He chuckled. “I do not. M’sorry you’re in pain, love,” he was gentle as he placed the little mirror into his mouth. “Hmm,” he hummed.

“S-bad, in’-it?’

“No, love. S’not bad,” he murmured quietly. “Relax y’fingers and shoulders, please. Y’making me nervous,” he chuckled very softly. Like he had stuck his dental tools in her mouth a hundred times. “S’jus’ a little cavity.”

Tears sprang back to her eyes, and she nodded. “I figured.”

“M’sorry, love. S’little, though I promise. Out of here in half an hour. No root canal—I promise.”

She sniffed and glanced away. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I’ve had such an overwhelming week and I put this off and it’s not even a big cavity and I’m in so much pain—” She started to cry again, and Harry pulled the glasses and light off his eyes and listened so intently, his face empathetic and kind as she bubbled with tears. She could hear her phone vibrating. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to get fired,” she croaked.

Harry frowned, turned to the cabinets, and searched for medicines to help her. He pulled his gloves off. “Let’s jus’ sit and relax for a bit,” he suggested handing her two pills and filled a little cup of water for her. She wiped her eyes and took it gratefully.

“Don’t you have other patients?”

“No,” he chuckled. “That intake form y’filled out?” Dr. Styles turned to the computer again and cleared his throat. “I am sorry to bother you, but I am in so much pain and need emergency dental help tomorrow if you’re able. My current dentist has filled this tooth twice and I think I’m going to yank the tooth out with pliers, and I don’t HAVE pliers so I will have to go buy some and I will probably pull it out in the middle of the hardware store and everyone will—”

“Okay, don’t write emails to dentists when you’re in pain,” she shook her head tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.

Dr. Styles chuckled. His laugh was warm, like a chocolate fountain. Or a blanket on a cold January day. “I don’t have patients on Wednesdays,” he murmured. Her heart skipped a beat. His kindness was unlike any dentist she had before. It felt so unnerving but nice in the best way. “But I made an exception,” he explained. “Couldn’t imagine someone pulling out a tooth at a hardware store.”

Her heart was fluttering. “I hate dentists.”

He laughed, wholeheartedly. “Even me?”

“Well...you haven’t drilled my tooth yet,” she mumbled. “But you might have gotten me fired.”

“I couldn’t in good faith let y’go back t’work, love. Not when you’re in so much pain.”

She looked at her lap. “I always have cavities.”

“M’gonna get to the bottom of it, love. Right after we fill this little guy.”

“My second bicuspid?”

“Should have been a dentist, hmm?” he smirked at his computer making notes.

“I’ve had so much work done,” she explained. “Half way through law school I thought about becoming a dentist.”

“Well, if he does fire you,” he turned back to her with a pointed expression. “And based on the reaction y’had, I think only an idiot would fire you. I’d gladly have y’work here,” he assured her. “Match whatever he paid you and then some,” he promised.

She frowned, feeling overwhelmed, sad, and relieved beyond belief.

“Thank you, Dr. Styles.”

“Call me Harry, love.”

--

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