#he's got phd in subtlety

[the-girl-in-the-high-castle]

Eyk Larsen not knowing how body physiology works and staring RESPECTFULLY at Maura Franklin's EYES will always be famous

And then there's her being even worse and I just can't with them anymore!

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Now that Anna knows what Bob's hands feel like when he's holding her close, she doesn't know how to stop herself from going back for more. But she's unwilling to even humor Bob when it comes to what he wants the most.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"I'm waiting for you to thank me."

Bob looked up to see Nat in front of him with a little smirk painted on her lips. He'd been spending the last twenty minutes trying to act normal, something he forgot how to do after Anna kissed him in the kitchen. Because it wasn't just a kiss, it was everything. It felt like she really wanted him.

"Thank you for what?" he asked cautiously.

Nat laughed heartily like he'd just told a very amusing joke. "For pushing you and Anna together. Bradley told me the situation, and that woman was jealous of me touching you. Her face was all pinched, and her lips were pressed into a tight line. Jealous. She wants you. And my god, she's hot. What the fuck do they do at San Diego State? Only interview you if you've got your PhD and a modeling contract?"

Bob knew he was blushing, and he was happy she wasn't calling him out on it. His friends were all talking about him and Anna behind his back at this point, trying to figure out what was going on. "We kind of just made out in the kitchen," he muttered, glancing across the yard at Anna who was talking to Jess and still holding the can of ginger ale he gave her.

"Yes!" Nat said with absolutely no subtlety, slapping Bob's shoulder. "Oh fuck, the two of you will have the cutest kids! Freckles and strawberry blonde hair!"

He had to close his eyes against the idea of it, willing the flush in his cheeks to subside. When he opened them again, Anna was looking right at him. Her gaze was a little unsure, and he was starting to get afraid she wouldn't let him drive her home later. But he wanted to walk her up to her door. He had been thinking about it since the very first time he drove her home.

"It's not like we're together or anything," he muttered.

"Yet," Nat told him, looking so certain. "Not yet."

It was getting late, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The temperatures would start cooling down once it was dark, and Anna was only wearing shorts. Bob's eyes easily found those freckles on her thighs once again. Her skin looked so damn soft. He wondered if he would feel goosebumps beneath his fingers if he traced that pretty pattern, gently connecting her freckles with an imaginary line. He had to swallow hard as she started heading his way.

Nat squeezed his wrist and muttered something about work, and then she vanished into the house. With Anna standing right in front of him, Bob wished he could just lean in and kiss her the way Jake always did with Jess, and the way Bradley always did with his wife. He wanted it. With Anna.

"I'm getting a little chilly," she told him. "I guess I overestimated how warm autumn was going to be in San Diego. It's still better than New Jersey though." She was talking to him like she hadn't been rubbing the front of those little shorts against the fly of his jeans barely an hour ago, and now he was sweating.

"You should wear jeans next time," he replied before realizing how stupid he sounded. "Not that you should be covering your legs or anything like that! You have very nice legs. Nice freckles? I just don't want you to be cold."

He cradled his forehead in his hand while Anna laughed softly. "I'll wear jeans next time. Do you think you could give me a ride home soon?"

"Sure," he promised immediately. "Absolutely."

"Great." Then she turned, and Bob heard her saying goodbye to Jessica. Why was he so awkward? Why was that exchange so weird? How was he supposed to make Anna want to kiss him again when he could barely string two normal sentences together?

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

Anna was trying to make a quick getaway, craving another few minutes alone with Bob. His truck was cozy, and she knew it would feel warm. His voice was sexy, and so was the way he moved. She wanted to kiss him again, even though she knew it was a terrible idea.

"Take some leftovers!"

"No, I'm fine," Anna told the hosts as Bradley tried to talk her into taking some of the extra burgers home. "But thank you." She was terrified that Jess may have said something about how sad Anna's lunches were; she had been doing her best to hide her current financial state from her friends, but she must have slipped up somehow.

"Well, will you come over for dinner one night? I love cooking for Sugar, but I always end up making way too much food."

Anna looked down at her feet. "Sure. I could do that. Jake invited me over there, too. I know he always cooks for Jess."

"Okay," Bradley said, his voice a little rough and his face annoyed when Anna looked up. "I'm a lot better at cooking than Jake is, first of all. Second of all, why don't you have dinner at his lame ass condo, and then let me know what he cooked. Then I'll cook a much better version of it for you and Sugar one night."

She was trying not to laugh; she knew they were competitive, but she didn't know it was quite this bad. "That sounds great, Bradley. Thanks for inviting me over today."

He just waved her off. "You're always welcome. You're one of us." He said it so casually before he started scraping the grill and cleaning it up, Anna just stared at the pattern of his tie dye shirt for a few seconds. He considered her part of this group now? This ridiculously cool friend group? If she thought about it for too long, she knew she would start crying. 

"Thanks," she whispered, turning and running directly into Bob's solid chest.

When she looked up at him as her fingers grazed along his shirt, he asked, "You ready to head out?"

"Yeah." Anna felt the slight pressure of Bob's hand at her lower back, guiding her toward the door.

"After you," he said softly. 

Anna had to walk inside the house and past Natasha, who she had clearly embarrassed herself in front of before. But the brunette just waved goodbye like she was completely unfazed by the events from earlier. Like it was totally normal for Bob and Anna to be together, heading out front to his truck as the setting sunset turned the sky orange.

Bob pulled the door open and helped her into his truck, and Anna thought maybe it was okay for this to be normal? To get a ride home from Bob after kissing him in her friend's kitchen? To have a painfully unrelenting crush on him that made her feel like perhaps love was a choice that you made for yourself? 

She watched him walk around the font of the truck, his glasses catching the last rays of sunlight as the streetlights started to warm up. He was beautiful. He climbed into the truck gracefully and looked at her bashfully. She was the reason he wasn't more confident right now; she knew it, and she was annoyed with herself for it.

He cleared his throat quietly and said, "Before I forget, I have your copy of Papillon." Then he reached for the glovebox, his knuckles brushing her bare knee. "Sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand away immediately.

Anna's heart was in her throat. How was she supposed to tell him that she liked it when he touched her, even by accident. He reached for the glovebox again, this time making sure his movements kept him clear of her leg. "It's okay," she told him, breathing deep. "I didn't mind it."

The only answer she got was Bob carefully handing her worn out book back to her. There was another little note folded up inside which made her remember she never read the one that was in Wuthering Heights before she left it in her office at work. He started the engine. The drive back to her place was too long, and too short at the same time. She was surprised to find that he was heading in the right direction without a reminder about her address. As the sky darkened, Anna tried to listen to the music playing on the radio, but all she could really hear was the sound of her own heart pounding. 

When Bob parked the truck in front of her building, she watched him squeeze the steering wheel with both hands while he stared out the windshield. "Anna...when you say you didn't mind it when I touched you...what does that mean? And what happened back at the cookout? Am I allowed to kiss you now? Or am I supposed to just figure out how to get over you?"

She fumbled with her seatbelt, heart thundering at the sound of his unsure voice. She wanted to ask him why he even liked her, because she had literally nothing to offer someone like Bob Floyd. But instead she said, "I meant I like it when you touch me. Even if it's by accident."

He turned to look at her, and when he saw she was crawling across the seat, his eyes went wide, and his hands slid from the steering wheel. "Anna." He inhaled a sharp breath when she planted one hand between his thighs, brushing his jeans with her fingers. She couldn't stand him thinking she didn't want him for another second. He was all she wanted. Somehow moving to San Diego got her some actual friends and a job she liked, and now a decent man with only green flags was into her, and she just couldn't make him think she felt otherwise. Even if they couldn't be together.

Bob's hands were planted on the seat at his sides, and he wasn't moving an inch as Anna straddled his legs. It was dark out, but she could see his gaze dip down to her cleavage before he met her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was deep with need. "Is it okay if I touch you now?"

"Please."

Anna's little cry of delight echoed through the cab of the truck as soon as Bob's hands settled on her bare thighs. His touch was light yet intentional, and it just left her wanting more. He was running his thumb along the frayed edge of her denim shorts, teasing her as he whispered, "I want to kiss you."

She didn't answer. Instead she reached for him, letting her fingers sink into his silky hair, leaning closer until her lips met his again. The kisses in the kitchen had been a little frantic, forcing her to get over the fact that Bob didn't want Natasha. He wanted Anna. But this was something different. Languid and slow. Needy yet decisive. She wanted to touch the rough stubble of his cheek, so she did. She wanted to feel his bottom lip tugged gently between hers, so she did. Then she parted her lips and tasted him.

The scrape of her nails along his jaw had his fingers sliding up inside the bottom of her shorts, and she wished she wasn't wearing them at all. She wanted to know the feel of his hands everywhere. "Anna," he murmured against her lips. She tugged on his hair and kissed him a little rougher, but she gasped and gave up control as soon as his big hands found their way over her shorts to her hips and yanked her snug against him. There was no more polite distance. No more breathing room. Just his hard body pressed to her soft one.

Bob's glasses were cool against her cheek, keeping her grounded as his fingers met the skin of her lower back while he tasted her tongue. His touch tickled her, and she rolled her hips forward, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. "Please," Anna whined, like it was the only word she even knew. Then her mouth was back on his. Bob's fingers traveled an inch higher, and she ground against him, but this time he broke the kiss.

When he tipped his head back, he looked bashful in the glow from the streetlights. She could feel him. He was getting hard for her, and it was delicious. Her brain supplied every suggestive line of poetry it had ever absorbed in her lifetime, and all she wanted was to make him get harder. 

She was ready to start unzipping his jeans when he eased his hands away from her body and whispered, "Will you let me walk you to your door? I've been wanting to do that for weeks."

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

It was slow going, trying to get to Anna's apartment door. They kept stopping to kiss, even going so far as to end up with her body pinned between his and the wall in the stairwell. Her soft laughter as he kissed the side of her neck echoed through the enclosed space, and then she said his name.

"Bob."

Actually, it was more like a whine, and it reverberated off of the walls beautifully. "Yes, Anna?" he whispered, letting her lace their fingers together. He wanted to do this all the time. He wanted to be her boyfriend. 

She just made a strangled sound as he kissed as many of her freckles as he could get his lips on before pulling her away from the wall. Then they finally made it upstairs to her door. If she invited him inside, he wasn't sure what she would expect. As much as he was ready to skip all of the pleasantries, he knew he needed to do this just right.

"Oh," she whispered, seemingly to herself as she unlocked her door. But she didn't turn the knob as she looked back at him over her shoulder. Her pretty brown eyes flashed with concern, so he took a step away, but then she just looked sad. 

"Everything okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Will I get to see you this week? I'd love to buy you a ginger ale at the Hard Deck. Or Chippy's."

She bit her lip before abandoning the door and wrapping her arms around his neck. She was all rough kisses on her tiptoes, and Bob was ready to turn the knob, head inside and deal with the consequences later. But she ran her tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away from him just as quickly. "I need to...I'll see you later, Bob."

In a flash, she squeezed herself in through the smallest gap imaginable, and then she gently closed her apartment door behind her. Bob stood there for a minute, his cock still half hard in his jeans as he stared at the spot where Anna had just been standing. She was giving him whiplash at this point, but maybe he sort of liked that kind of thing.

He quickly adjusted himself in his jeans before heading back downstairs and out into the cool night. He was going to have to ask Jake or Bradley how long he needed to wait before asking Anna out. They would know what to do. And he had Nat back now as well. He had enough resources that he would figure it out.

But the next day after work, they all seemed to make everything more confusing for him. 

"So did you finally fuck her then?" Bradley asked casually as he put deodorant on in the locker room.

"Well, no," Bob muttered. "We just made out for a bit."

"Kids these days," Bradley muttered, shaking his head. "Well, did you at least thank Nat? For coming to your rescue?"

Bob sighed, knowing this man was going to be no help after all. "I already talked to Nat," Bob replied as they walked out of the locker room. 

Of course Natasha was in the hallway and did a double take. "Did I just hear my name? I've been so popular since I got home yesterday." Her smile slipped into a look of excitement. "Did you fuck the redhead?"

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Her name is Anna. And no, because I'm actually trying to date her."

"Why not both?" Nat asked, leading the way out to the parking lot. "Give that girl what she so desperately wants."

Bob was scared Anna was going to pull away again. He hadn't heard from her at all since last night when she disappeared into her apartment. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be texting her or not today. It was like he was living in a choose your own adventure story, but somehow none of the options were correct.

He turned right toward his truck while Bradley and Nat both turned left, but then he realized that Jake had parked next to him and was already in his own truck talking on the phone. Bob tried to sneak past, but Jake put his window down and said, "Jess wants to know what's up with you and Anna."

"Is she on the phone?" Bob asked, tossing his bag into his own truck.

"Hi!" came Jessica's voice through Jake's bluetooth. "What did you do to Anna? She was practically singing when she showed up at lunch today."

Bob immediately scrambled toward Jake's truck and stuck his head in the window. "She was?"

"Yes. And she was having a hard time paying attention. You know how she gets when her head is in the clouds."

Jake met Bob's wide eyed gaze and smiled. "You should go to her office hours," the other man drawled. "That's like a green light for fucking on her desk."

"Hey!" Jessica complained through the phone while Bob grimaced. "Jake, keep your mouth shut about it. But yes, Bob, you should go to her office hours. She'd probably really like that. It shows you're thinking about her."

Well Bob was almost never not thinking about Anna, so maybe it wasn't a bad idea. "Take her some flowers," Jake added. "Seriously, man, she'll be handing you her panties within a minute."

"Hey!" came Jessica's voice again, and this time Bob ducked into his own truck, not wanting to hear any more of that conversation.

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

Monday was a bit of a blur. The first thing Anna did when she got to her office was grab her copy of Wuthering Heights from her shelf. The note she forgot to read from Bob made her smile right away.

This book made me feel like it's okay to be completely caught up in another person to the point where you forget where you are or what you're doing. Also, I'm going to think of you every time I see a dog eared page for the rest of my life.

She whimpered softly. There had been a similar, slightly more intimate note tucked inside Papillon when she checked it last night after she squeezed herself into her depressingly tiny apartment in embarrassment. She would never be able to invite Bob inside for anything. Not for a cup of tea, and not for a sleepover.

After that, Anna spent the entire night on Sunday reading her favorite poems and touching herself. Sky Writing seemed to have fallen in love, based on his new post. That idea wasn't surprising at all. Anna was convinced he was the perfect man, so it was just a matter of time. But the thing that did surprise her was the way he wrote about a certain woman with red hair. Late into the night, she was laying in her tiny bed with her fingers inside the font of her underwear, picturing Bob as she read the words to herself.

It was almost too much. Her lips were still a little bit puffy on Monday from all the making out, and she felt sated if only by her own touch. She knew Bob's beautiful hands would be so much better, and she was still thinking about them when she went to find her friends at lunchtime. 

Tuesday wasn't much better. The only damper was that she hadn't heard a single word from Bob. Nothing. She hadn't texted him either, because what was she supposed to say? Hi, I think I could fall in love with you, but I'm not allowed. Can we still make out? That would be the worst idea in the world.

"She's got her head in the clouds again."

Anna blinked a few times and realized she was sitting by the weird tree with the warm sunlight on her face. Her uneaten sandwich was in her hand, hovering halfway to her mouth, and she had been staring off into the distance. "Sorry," she muttered, finally taking a bite. Her lunch didn't even seem as sad today as she thought about Bob's hands on her thighs. 

"Can you blame her?" Jessica asked. "She kissed Bob."

"Not one bit," the other woman said with a grin, as if Anna wasn't even there. "He's a damn catch. Sweetest man ever."

Anna rolled her eyes and said, "As if you aren't married to the human equivalent of a golden retriever."

"Oh, so she is paying attention," Jessica said with a laugh. "We thought you'd blasted off for planet Bob with no return ticket."

"Your astrophysics jokes are the worst," the other woman said, and Jessica pretended to pout.

"Listen. All I know is that he's a great kisser, and that his hands fit really nicely right here," Anna said pointing to her back and her hips. Both women squealed in delight. "But I can't take things any further with him."

"Why not?" Jessica demanded. "The two of you have been playing this game since you met at the bookstore. And also since you met again at the Hard Deck."

Anna thought about Kevin and all of her money that she'd never see again. She thought about her manuscripts she'd put on hold to work three jobs. She thought about how she'd willingly given up Princeton for him.

"I don't want to drag him down to where I am," she whispered, running her finger along the condensation on her can of ginger ale. "I can't be in a relationship." That's all she wanted to say about Bob and Kevin right now, still too afraid to tell her friends everything. So she cleared her throat and asked, "What's with the cooking rivalry between Bradley and Jake? It's like an episode of Chopped." That seemed to open a very controversial can of worms, but at least the focus shifted away from her personal life.

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

Bob didn't even know what kind of flowers were the right ones to get, and once again, everyone else gave him useless information. 

"I rarely get flowers for Sugar. I usually just grab some good beers on my way to pick her up from school, and that's enough to seal the deal. Then I get to drink the beer I like while my hot wife goes dow-"

"We get the picture, Bradshaw," Jake said loudly. "Bob, just get some cheap flowers and save the money to make her dinner one night."

"Do not get her cheap flowers!" Natasha chimed in. "If the two of you weren't attractive looking," she said, pointing to Bradley and Jake, "Sugar and Jessica would have bailed before they bothered to uncover actual brain cells underneath the pretty hair." Both men looked startled before eventually nodding in agreement. "You need to get good flowers and plan to invite her for dinner. Not one or the other," Nat finished, pounding her fist into her other palm. "No wonder Bob never gets laid when I'm not around to straighten everything out."

"Can we not talk about that?" he mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "And it's not like I just want to...get laid. By just anybody."

"Yeah, yeah," Natasha said, tapping away on her phone. "You're a romantic. Go get her flowers like these ones."

Bob examined her screen when she held it up for him. He memorized the red and orange blooms the best he could, and soon they started to remind him of Anna's hair. "Got it," he told her, turning toward his truck before anyone else could tell him something that may or may not end up being useful. He'd get the flowers and then invite her over. He wasn't as good at cooking as Jake or Bradley, but he'd try anyway. He was mostly out of practice since he didn't have anyone to cook for, really, but they both offered to send him their favorite recipes. 

The florist was nice and listened to him ramble about orange and red flowers for a minute before putting together something that was even prettier than he could have imagined. The sixty dollar price tag shocked him, but it didn't stop him from also grabbing a book from the front window of the shop next door. It was a new one he'd been wanting to read himself, not quite one of the classics that Anna seemed to favor, but he figured she wouldn't have read it yet. He'd let her borrow it and dog ear all the pages up, and then he'd read it and think about her the whole time.

But when he got to the San Diego State University campus, he sat in his truck and stared at the clock on his dashboard. It was 6:32. She had office hours until 7:00, so he really needed to head in there. Doubt was creeping in now, because they left things off at a weird place. He had no idea what Anna really wanted from him, if anything. If she told him no or hesitated today, he was going to have to start sorting out his feelings for her and dismantling them bit by bit.

It was 6:47 by the time he finally made his way through the academic building on his way to Anna's office. Several people turned and looked at him in his khaki uniform with the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, and this would have been a lot less stressful if Anna was actually his girlfriend and not a woman he thought might never be that. When he reached the hallway that smelled like freshly baked bread, he found her small office right away where it was tucked back from the main walkway. The door was ajar, and he could hear her voice, so he stood there in the hallway a little awkwardly, trying to fight the urge to run back to his truck.

The door opened another inch, and Bob could see Anna's fingers and her burgundy painted nails peeking out as her voice got louder. "Here's a copy of the extra study guide. Don't forget there's a quiz on Monday. If you can ace that, then I think you'll be in better shape for the final. And try not to be too hard on yourself, Hemingway can be a bit of a challenge for anyone."

"Thanks, Dr. Webber."

The door opened all the way, and a young man filed out with a frown on his face, and then Anna was just standing there right in front of Bob. Her hair was in a loose braid, her lips had some sort of purple-ish gloss on them, and she was wearing some snug jeans and an SDSU sweatshirt. "Bob," she breathed, and it sounded like music. Her gaze raked over his uniform and the vibrant flowers before returning to his face, brown eyes more vulnerable than he ever thought they should be.

"Hi, Anna." He couldn't think of anything better to say as she backed up a step into her small office and nodded her head once for him to join her. After two of his long strides, Bob was practically bumping into her desk. Then she closed the door and leaned against it, hands tucked behind her back.

She cleared her throat, but her voice was still soft as she said, "You look nice in your uniform."

"Thanks," he replied automatically. She could have said anything, and he would have thanked her.

"Those are beautiful. Are they for me?" she whispered, eyes falling to the flowers again.

"Of course they are."

Bob watched her eyelashes brush her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. "You didn't have to do that. Flowers are so expensive."

"I got you a book, too," he said, sliding it out from behind the bouquet. Her eyes snapped open so she could read the title, and he said, "It's a new release, so I was hoping you didn't preorder it or anything."

Anna's cheeks were growing pinker by the second, making her freckles look more prominent. He was about to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner one night when she launched herself across the three feet of empty space, colliding softly with his body. Bob dropped the flowers and the book onto her desk just as she kissed him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

She kissed him like they did this all the time, and his hands went right to her waist where they fit perfectly. "Thank you," she murmured against his lips. "Nobody ever got me books before you."

The words before you echoed in his brain. He didn't want there to be an after. He wanted this to be the real deal where neither of them had to be in a relationship where they weren't constantly trading books back and forth with someone. 

Anna kissed him until his glasses were crooked, and she raked her fingers through his hair until he was sure it was a mess. And somehow she ended up pushing him back until he was sitting on the edge of her desk with his long legs splayed apart. He knew he was in trouble; he could feel himself slipping already. She let her hands trail down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down the front of his shirt. She adjusted all of his pins and touched his name tag along the way as her lips barely brushed his. Her fingers moved so slowly, he thought maybe he could get himself under control, but it was no use. He was hard in his pants, and her exploratory hands weren't stopping.

"Anna."

All that did was make her kiss him harder again.

"Please."

All that did was have her pressing the font of her jeans to his khakis with a little gasp. Maybe the guys had been right about this kind of thing after all. Maybe visiting her during office hours was all it was going to take to get to the next level. Her fingers made it all the way down to his thighs, scraping along just inches from his erection, and Bob was afraid he was going to embarrass himself. He thought about icebergs and refrigerators and the Arctic Circle, but nothing alleviated the aching heat under his skin as Anna licked his lip and almost nudged the tip of his cock.

But then she said the most devastating sentence he could think of. "Bob, I really like you. But we're just friends, okay?" Then she kissed him again like she hadn't spoken something so harsh, and he thought maybe he imagined it. "Just really good friends who make out with each other."

"Fuck," he grunted, trying to get control even as his hands kneaded the bare skin of her lower back. "Anna." He swallowed hard and pulled his mouth away from hers, examining her wide eyes. Her teeth sank into her pouty bottom lip when he said, "I was going to invite you over for dinner later this week."

"As friends?" she whispered, her hands still planted on his thighs. 

Bob nodded like an idiot, because once again, he was going to agree to anything she said right then. "Sure."

She kissed him softly and said, "Okay."

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

But is it okay? Is it really? Next up, let's see how this dinner goes. We might need Nat to fully step in and take care of business again. Also, I love Bradley and Jake in this chapter so so so much! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@smileybouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

[dreaminrainbows]

Hello lovies, August did slip away like a moment in time so here are some amazing fics i got to enjoy this month. Please consider leaving comments and kudos, you most definitely will make someone's day.

Look To The Sky by babyhoneyhslt/@babyhoneyheslt |[82.6k]

“Harry, it’s been five years,” Liam says softly, heaving an exasperated sigh. “I know it’s hard, but you need to let it go.” “I can’t let it go.” Harry shakes his head. “He’s my husband, Ash’s father. I can’t give up on him.” “I’m not asking you to give up on him, but you need to stop questioning them. Or trying to get your nose in places it’s not wanted.” Liam watches him. “You know you’re one of my best workers, and I can’t lose you. I’m giving you a warning now, please stop this.” “Or what?” Harry looks at Liam. “You’ll fire me? For wanting answers to what happened to my husband?” ~.~ On the 28th January 2019, British Airways flight BA289 took off from Chile at 10:04am. The fight was due to land in London Heathrow Airport at 12:44am. The flight was flown by experienced Captain Louis Tomlinson, accompanied by the first officer Oli Wright. Around five hours into the flight, BA289 disappeared from air traffic controls radar, and did not arrive in Heathrow at the estimated time. Search crews are currently looking for any signs of wreckage, but the question stands, what happened to flight BA289?

Feels Like Snow In September  by louisismycat (tiflamomet)/@liminalkitty369 | [75k]

A mysterious teenager shows up at Louis' door claiming to be his daughter...with an omega he hasn't seen in 16 years, whom believes their secret love child to be dead.

is this flying or falling  by HoldingOnToChaos/@holdingontochaos | [55.7k]

Harry Styles is a recently divorced omega who has been planning his lavish solo trip to Tahiti for six months. The trip is to treat himself on the one-year anniversary of his divorce from his long and horrible marriage. Unfortunately, he can’t seem to escape the annoyingly persistent and wildly handsome alpha named Louis. Louis Tomlinson is a workaholic who was forced into taking annual leave by his boss. He doesn’t love the idea of leaving work for so long so he gets drunk and buys a trip to Tahiti on a whim. When he meets the gorgeous omega, Harry, he finds a purpose for this trip after all. -- OR the one where Harry and Louis both go on a trip to Tahiti and meet on the plane.

Here Where Life Beats by MarWritesStuff (Ta_Ma)/@marwritesstuff | [42.9k]

Harry is a single mum who moves to London for a new job and fears that the move might be affecting his four-year-old pup too much. But when Noah starts at his new school, they meet Louis Tomlinson. A sweet alpha who seems to be almost too perfect to be real.

Rooms on Fire by softfonds/@softfonds | [34k]

Ten years ago, Louis helping Harry through a heat was the start of a romance that ended in heartbreak. Now, Harry's marriage is over thanks to his husband's very public infidelity, and Louis is fresh off a Golden Globe win. The last thing they both expect is to be cast in the same movie.

everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry/@blueskiesrry | [33]

"Did you two have a good time?” Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm. “Yeah,” he says. “We did.” or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Subtletys by thinlines/ @gaygodlou | [32k]

The alpha wanted to run, to sprint from the room and throw himself into the campus traffic, but he remained frozen and barely breathing as the omega pressed the tapes down, keeping the pressure soft and gentle. Everything about Harry was soft and gentle, even when he was furious at Louis. “Can you—” Breathe, don’t panic. “Are you done?” He bit back a hiss when Harry’s fingers danced over the edge of his bondmark spot yet again. OR Alpha Louis is trying to perfect the art of pretending not to care for his volleyball team manager. Let's all assume he isn't headed for failure.

Have You Coming Back Again by whoknows/ @crazyupsetter | [31k]

It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym. Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain. Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all. He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.

Lost But Won by 2tiedships2/ @2tiedships2 | [16.5k]

“If you start out by talking about your weekend of golfing I swear to god I will stab you with a pen,” Louis said by way of greeting. “You’ll have to give me a few minutes though so I can see if I even own a pen. But the warning stands.” “Hello to you too, dearest Louis,” Niall yelled from where he still sat on the couch next to Harry. There was a clunk on the floor and what sounded like shoes hitting the wall as Niall announced, “We have a guest. You might want to save stabbing me until you don’t have a witness.” “Well if they are obsessed with golf then…” Louis trailed off as he made his appearance in the living room. Harry’s mouth dried up. This was not the alpha that Niall had described. When Harry loses his passport after a weekend trip to see Niall, the inconvenience of being stranded in America becomes a little more bearable after meeting Louis. Or a lot more bearable.

At your service, for you usage by HoldingOnToChaos/@holdingontochaos | [16k]

Louis is a doctor who works so much that he has barely any time to himself for pleasure, let alone to clean his house so he hires Harry as his naked maid and kills two birds with one stone.

who's that girl?  by vintagehistories/@adoredontour | [13.7]

“So, do you want to tell us a little bit more about why you’re here?” “What do you mean?” Harry asks, furrowing his eyebrows together. “I’m here because I need a place to live and you guys need a roommate.” “I guess let me rephrase that,” Leo (or maybe Liam) says. He taps his pen twice against the notepad, drawing Harry’s attention away from a large hole in one of the walls. “Why do you need a place to live?” “Oh, that’s easy.” Harry sits up straighter in his seat. “I walked in on my boyfriend of four years banging my boss. I couldn’t very well keep living with them, could I?” harry is canadian, louis owns a bar, zayn comes and goes as he pleases, liam's just trying to keep everyone alive, and nobody knows what niall does. a new girl au.

It's halftime. Are you ready to go? by momentofclarity/@gaycousinlarry | [12k]

Reason #12 - Because it's halftime. Harry would like to think that he doesn’t know how he got himself into this. Only… he’d be lying. Because he knows exactly how he got himself into this. Oh man, does he know, and it’s all because of a certain Louis Tomlinson. Alternatively - football is gay and Harry is trying to cope.

Tuxedo Dress-Up  by Blaaake/ @newleafover | [11.9k]

Louis is an aspiring song writer by day, a make up artist for drag queens by night, and masquerading as a full time real estate agent for his third most famous (and first most handsome) client Harry Styles. Or, five times they fail to fuck in a closet, and one time they get it right.

Smells Like TEAM Spirit by persephoneflouwers/ @persephoneflouwers | [10.7k]

Punk Louis and quarterback Harry have been secretly dating for years. Feeling overwhelmed by his commitments, Harry suggests a short break, fearing he can't give Louis enough time. As Louis reflects on his vulnerabilities, Harry struggles on the field without him.

every day and tomorrow night by justanothershadeofblue (zjofierose)/ @justanothershadeofblue | [8k]

Harry stares. The new boy is beautiful, there’s no other word for him. He’s got caramel brown hair in a tousled cut and cheekbones for days, skin that’s tanned a deep gold, and eyes a shade of blue that’s visible even from across the room. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and one knee slightly bent, his thighs thick where they extend past the ragged hem of his denim shorts. His biceps are defined and his hands look small but capable, and Harry’s mouth is quite literally watering. “What’s his name?” Harry asks, without taking his gaze off the boy in the doorway. He doesn’t want to blink and miss a single moment of eye candy. Zayn chuckles. “See something you like, then?” “You know the rule, Z,” Harry answers, still not pulling his eyes away from this unexpected Adonis. “If I lick it, it’s mine.”

Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover by lovingstheantidote/@lovingstheantidote | [6.7k]

Harry laughs. He actually giggles until Louis sucks behind his ear and surprisingly turns that giggle into a little moan. And oh, god, does Louis want to make him do that again. “Pasta shape, Harold. Sure you’ve got one yeah?” More tiny breathy kisses. Warm air on Harry’s long neck. He feels Harry smiling as he switches sides. He thinks about all the other long parts of Harry’s body. Will he get to touch them, get to suck them too? or Louis is infatuated by the hot new pasta chef. He gets so much more than just dinner.

Wish You to Ashes  by LetTheMusicMoveYou/@letthemusicmoveyou28 | [6k]

There in the middle of the candle triangle on Harry’s dining table, is the source of all Harry’s turmoil. His ex, Louis Tomlinson, in all his glory. Literally. Louis is sat on his bum looking confused, not a stitch of clothing on him. It takes him a few beats to comprehend what’s going on as well, and when he does he attempts to cover his crotch with his hands. ”Harry?” He glances around the kitchen then. “What the fuck?” Harry shrugs, a bit helplessly. “I don’t know. I was trying to banish you, not summon you.” Louis narrows his eyes. “Banish me, really? Very mature Harry.” (Or the one where witch Harry is heartbroken, and resorts to a risky spell to rid him of his ex. It doesn’t exactly go as planned).

tastes so sweet by 28goldensfics/ @28goldens | [5.6k]

louis is information desk mates with harry at the aquarium and has grown quite fond of the way he talks and the way his mouth moves. but louis thinks if harry doesn’t stop sucking on those stupid, cherry, heart shaped lollipops, he might have to do something about it.

Let the Feeling Last by allwaswell16/ @allwaswell16 | [5.5k]

Omega Harry thinks the alpha at the grocery store buying a cart full of vegetables must be an amazing chef. He doesn't know that Alpha Louis is feeding all those vegetables to his pet pig.

Turning into something else (day 28) by cwrote/ @cwrotes | [5k]

“Louis has been having very strange nightmares for the past few nights, in which he is attacked and devoured by a beast with abundant hair and sharp teeth that triples his size. It's the same dream every time night falls: he stands in front of his bedroom window, under the moonlight, with his hair standing on end and a racing pulse that catches the attention of the creature lurking and assaulting him over and over. He thinks it's all in his head when he wakes up in his bed bathed in sweat, but things start to get complicated when paranoia finally takes hold of him. Or where Louis is suffering from nightmares in which he is preparing to be abused by a huge beast capable of tearing him apart.”

Only Angel by starryhaze/ @starryhaze28 | [5k]

“If I’m an angel, what does that make you?” The angel asks. “A sinner,” Louis answers. ʚɞ or the one where Louis is in Japan and stumbles upon a boy wearing angel wings

Stars over Amsterdam by HelloLovers13/ @hellolovers13 | [4.7k]

Louis remembers how stressed they were, trying to get tickets at all. The waiting for the email with the code, which only Louis got, the actual On-sale. How Harry stood behind him, peeling at his nails nervously. Trying not to distract Louis. But it had all gone smoothly and he had gotten the tickets within just a few minutes. Harry had jumped around Louis’s chair in excitement like a bouncing ball. Already starting to plan their outfits. A gold fringe dress for Harry, Fearless was his favourite album, after all, and a matching shirt he had found online for Louis. So people could tell right away they were an item. That was their plan. Before it all went to shit. or Fate in form of Eras Tour tickets forces Louis to meet up with his Ex. Hopefully soon to be Ex-Ex.

Miracle Massages  by red_panda28/ @red-pandaaa | [3.5k]

It took some effort, but Harry finally got his mouth to cooperate. “Wanna take a bath,” he mumbled. “Alright.” There was a small pause. “Are you gonna move?” Louis asked, the amused smile audible in the question. OR Alpha Louis pampering his pregnant Omega, Harry. Featuring nests, a sprinkle of angst, and belly massages

I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours, wanna be yours) by Dreaminrainbows/ @dreaminrainbows | [3.5k]

Harry studies his sixteen year old self’s face for a long moment and it's truly pathetic how in fourteen years nothing has really changed. He's had enormous success throughout the years, has a couple of Grammys to prove it, yet he'd still be Louis Tomlinson’s vacuum cleaner in a blink of an eye. Louis does like his coffee hot and Harry would gladly be his coffee pot. He groans again, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He's been trying to get a grip on himself for the past fourteen years, the only grip he's gotten is on his man.

Stuck in Midnight Traffic by LetTheMusicMoveYou/ @letthemusicmoveyou28 | [2.9k]

The curly haired man sniffles again, but the tears seemed to have stopped for now at least. “I was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with my boyfriend, that is until we got into a horrible fight.” He seems to wince at his own words. “I guess I should start getting used to calling him my ex-boyfriend. But anyways, we just couldn’t stay there any longer. Kevin and I had to get out.” Louis blinks before looking around the empty tube car confusedly. “Kevin?” The man nods and then squeezes a little tighter to the little potted plant clutched in his arms. “Kevin is a Christmas Cactus, but he doesn’t bloom.” He quickly adds. “Which is completely fine, because I love him just as he is.” Louis’ not sure what most of that means. All he does know is that he needs to make sure this strange, beautiful creature is never sad again. (Or the one where two broken people meet in an empty tube car on Christmas Eve. Can they find a way to heal each other?)

What’s in a Name by HelloLovers13/ @hellolovers13 | [2.6k]

Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate. The name on his arm disagreed. But what did his soulmark know about true love anyway.

little alpha by DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry/ @bottomhaztoplou | [2k]

Harry's not a typical alpha, but he doesn't care as long as he has Louis.

I long for that feeling to not feel at all by ineverateakiwi/ @ineverateakiwi | [2k]

When he is not around and Harry needs to feel more grounded, steady on his own feet, he thinks of Louis. It's probably not healthy to rely on someone this heavily, but it's better than nothing. It's what he has right now. And, right now, it's working. Is thinking about that feeling, the feeling of being real, being alive, that he whispers – without thinking – those two words. — "Hurt me." Harry needs to feel something, even if it's pain. Louis gives what he needs.

Gotta Feeling  by allwaswell16/ @allwaswell16 | [2k]

When Harry's life in Manchester isn't turning out the way he thought it would, he decides to visit his best friend in Mexico City. Maybe Niall can convince him to move halfway around the world.

Coming Home To You by TiredTiredTz/ @tiredtiredtz | [807]

When Louis Tomlinson passed suddenly at 82, Harry Tomlinson didn’t know how he’d survive even one day without him. Seven years later, Harry is getting tired.

Hope you enjoy the amazing work of our very talented authors.

Please please please leave COMMENTS and kudos!!!

You are the force we need to continue!

Happy reading!

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Summary: You meet the giant Italian side of Jake's family and figure out just how special Nonna's special sauce is.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 11

Word Count: 3.3k

Chapter 12: Nonna's Special Sauce

Friday dawns with the expected breakfast racket. You groan as you wake up and roll over to burrow in Jake's chest, not ready to be up yet. Jake's arms reflexively wrap around you and he keeps sleeping. You enjoy the warmth and closeness for a while till Jake wakes up.

"I'm sorry that my parents are obscenely loud in the morning," he mumbles into my hair.

"I promise it's worth it, my mom makes some kind of potato omelet thingy with some of the leftovers from yesterday and it's delicious."

"Sounds interesting and I know there's coffee down there, so it's not too bad. Would probably prefer to be waking up to songbirds or some shit like that," you mumble back to his chest. You feel him laugh more than hear it.

You and Jake rally and get out of bed and head downstairs to coffee and the promised potato omelet thingy. Which as advertised is excellent. Jake and you migrate to the living room with your cups of coffee after breakfast and lounge on the couch.

"What's the plan for today?" you ask Jake.

"Nothing until the Lucarelli get together later this afternoon. Probably see if my mom needs help cooking anything. So as much Netflix and chill as we want," he says wagging his eyebrows without a trace of subtlety.

He earns a laugh from you,

"You don't need any encouragement.

The day turns out as expected. You laze about, putter around getting ready, helping Sharon with any cooking tasks, and just hanging out.

Around 3 pm, it's officially go time for the Lucarelli get together and soon you are loading the car with an obscene amount of food and wine.

Soon you pull up to another gorgeous ranch house. The driveway is filled with vehicles. Jake and you help Sharon with the food she's made and the wine. Tom grabs another bag that he has deemed his gin and tonic kit and you all approach the front door. Tom doesn't bother to knock and just as soon as he opens the door you can hear the sound of a family party spilling out. There's the sound of kids running, playing, and shrieking with delight, lots of conversations, laughing and the general hum of people eating and drinking. Tom and Sharon step in first and are greeted warmly with hugs and kisses on each cheek. The items they are holding are quickly offloaded and presumably on their way to the kitchen.

Jake's parents clear the door and Jake and you step in next. You expect them to hug Jake and give you a handshake or something you're used to with your extended family in Wisconsin. Jake holds out his arms to hug a lady about Sharon's age, and based on appearance you assume a sibling. You laugh when she completely bypasses Jake and engulfs you in a big smothering hug and kisses on each cheek. You see over her shoulder that Jake is pretending to be offended,

"So this is how it is now, Aunt Nancy, what am I chopped liver?" he says putting on his cute little mock pout.

"Jakey, you're old news, we all want to meet the girl that has captured your heart and got our wandering mustang to finally settle down," she replies, still looking at you.

"Elsa, it's so good to meet you. I'm Nancy, Sharon's sister. Sharon said you were beautiful, but you're a dream, and an aerospace engineer, with a PhD," she looks over at Jake, "You did good kiddo."

Jake steps over and takes your hand, "That I did, I'm going to introduce her around, we'll be back to chat, Nancy. I promise."

Tom has reappeared and hands you a gin and tonic, he leans in to say, "If you were anything like me, meeting all the Lucarellis all at once might be a bit overwhelming. This'll help."

You thank him before Jake leads you to the back of the living room where there is an older lady sitting in an armchair talking with a few people.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I thought Nonna would want to meet Elsa."

The older lady jumps up with surprising agility given her age. Jake has to lean down to speak to her, she is a little shorter than you,

"Nonna, this is Elsa, my girlfriend."

She wraps you in a warm hug and pulls back keeping her hands on your elbows,

"Nice to meet you dear, glad to have someone around here my size. It's like living in a forest of people."

"Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Lucarelli," you reply.

"None of this Mrs. Lucarelli nonsense, call me Nonna, everyone else here does."

"I've heard a lot about you from Jake, I'll have to thank you for Jake's cooking skills. He's made your pasta Bolognese recipe for me."

Her eyes go big and a large smile blooms on her face,

"Jakey, made you my Bolognese sauce, that's interesting, indeed."

She looks over your shoulder to Jake raising her eyebrows and continues,

"I was going let Jakey have it about making you an honest woman, but I see he's got that in hand. He's a good boy." She reaches up to pat Jake's cheek.

"We're working on it, Nonna, you'll be one of the first to know," he replies, before excusing us from the conversation.

"I'm going to go introduce Elsa around, we'll talk to you later."

One of the Aunts exits the conversation and she scampers over to where Sharon is sitting. She leans down to whisper something in her ear. She lights up with a big smile and you swear she is bouncing with joy at whatever she just heard.

Jake brings you around to meet some of his cousins, most of whom give him a hard time about finally bringing a girl round to meet the family, more aunts and uncles, and few more family members. It's a whirlwind of hugging, faces, and "nice to meet you's". Towards the end of the circuit people start to add on, bits of "he made you Nonna's Bolognese, interesting" or some variation on that theme. There's a few "Welcome to the family" remarks also. You finally make it through all the relatives and Jake pulls you aside into the hall where it is quieter and asks,

"How are you doing? The whole family thing can be a bit overwhelming with this clan if you didn't grow up in it."

"I'm good, I probably need a family tree with pictures and names on it to remember everyone, but everyone is so warm and welcoming."

"Good, just wanted to check in and see if you needed a break."

"Nope, I'm all good. What's with everyone making a thing of the fact you made me Nonna's sauce?"

There is a quick flash of something that could be described as embarrassment across his face.

"I'll tell you later, when we're alone." He drops his voice and leans in close to your ear causing you to shiver at the way he says the word "alone". Looking up with probably lust filled eyes, you just nod and walk out of the hallway.

You walk over to a pod of his cousins, and recognize one of them, Matt, who said he was a mechanical engineer.

"I'll leave you here with the other engineer while I go grab some drinks. The same, El?"

"Umm, no, I'll take a glass of red,"

you answer.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies and heads off to wherever the drinks are in the house.

Matt and you chat about our respective engineering jobs while Jake gets the drinks. Soon he's back and the conversation keeps going and is lively and filled with laughter. People wander in and out of the group where you are standing, Jake's arm constantly around your waist.

You finally make your way to the kitchen when you feel your stomach growling. Every flat surface is covered in some kind of food, 80 percent of it Italian dishes. You count six crock pots on the counter, all plugged into an industrial looking power strip.

"Holy shit, your family doesn't mess around with the food," you tell Jake as you survey the scene.

He laughs,

"Yeah, no one's going to go hungry in an Italian kitchen, that's for sure."

"What's with the heavy duty hardware for the crock pots?"

"We blew a circuit breaker one year, so my Uncle Pat rigged up something sturdier, he's an electrician."

You are trying to not laugh,

"You realize that this isn't helping with any of my preconceptions of Italian families, right? Between the kissing on the cheeks, calling your grandma Nonna, and now this acre of food, wait, is that literally a pile of bread on the table?"

You giggle in glee.

Jake slightly rolls his eyes.

"Yes, that might be 10 loaves of bread from the Italian grocery in town, but it's what we do. Do not mock the bread. When you're done making fun of my heritage, I'll give you the inside scoop on what to eat out of this acre of food," he says in mock exasperation.

Grabbing a plate you follow him. Looking around to make sure no one can overhear him, he tells you in an almost whisper,

"Aunt Jilly's meatballs are the best," he points, "but I'll never admit that my mom's aren't the best. My mom does have a lock on the best lasagna, which is that pan."

You take a little bit of each.

"You can't miss Uncle Greg's pesto, he grows everything in his garden."

"Is that sauerkraut?"

You ask, its pungent smell coming through all the other aromas of tomatoes, garlic, and basil cloaking the table.

Jake sticks out his tongue in disgust, "Yeah, my Aunt Betty married a Polish guy, he insists on bringing it to every family gathering. It's homemade, which I give him credit for, but it's still sauerkraut."

"I like sauerkraut, so I will gladly have some," you reply, scooping a little onto my plate. Jake is aghast,

"I might be reconsidering this relationship at this very moment."

"Drama queen, it's the Wisconsin in my DNA, more German than Polish, it depends where the line was drawn when my mom's family left. You cannot beat a good bratwurst off the grill with German mustard and sauerkraut."

Now it's Jake's turn to laugh,

"That is so Wisconsin, can you say, 'You betcha or go Packers?'"

"You shush," you tell him with no malice behind it. You take a bite of the meatball, which is about the size of a baseball, on your plate. It is amazing.

"Okay, I concede this spread is way better than any brat grill out. These are so good."

He smiles,

"I have Aunt Jilly's recipe at home, if we want to cook it."

You find a place to eat and join the conversation. Ellie and Gigi come running through trying to steal goodies from the dessert table with a pack of their cousins. They give you and Jake a quick hug before joining their mission again. Finally, it seems that everyone has eaten and is chilling in the post dinner lull.

One of Jake's cousins, Paul maybe, calls out,

"Football time!"

A few groans come out of the crowd but most everyone in your generation gets up.

"What's going on, Jake?"

"We generally play some backyard football, to keep us from going into a food coma, you're welcome to join us."

"Sure, why not?"

Soon you're all assembled in the backyard and teams are being formed. Somehow Jake and you end up on opposite sides. The field boundaries are delineated with whatever the group can find to make a few corners. You look at your teammates and try to remember their faces. You all huddle and don't really make any strategy beyond score, before the huddle breaks you ask,

"Is this tackle or touch?"

"A bit of both, mostly tackle, but don't be an asshole about it," Mark, (you think) replies. You nod.

Your side has the ball first, one cousin hikes it to Mark and sees that you are open near the end zone and he sends a nice spiral your way that hits you right in the numbers if you were wearing a jersey and you run it in.

You stick your tongue out at Jake as you trot back to your team. He just gives you that trademark smirk and you know the next time he gets close enough he's going to say something that will leave you hot and bothered or flustered or both. Sure enough, just before the ball is hiked to the acting quarterback of his team, he leans over the line and says low enough for just you to hear,

"We both know what that tongue of yours can do, is that a promise for later?"

Before you can reply the ball is in play and Jake is running past you wide open to catch a pass. You catch up to him and attempt to tackle him around the waist. Your arms go around his torso as he catches the ball, but instead of falling down he just scoops an arm around your waist and pulls you upside down to him and runs the ball in for a touchdown. The rest of the cousins are dying laughing as you pretend to pout,

"Can you put me down now?" as you hang upside down with your legs bent at the knee over his shoulder. He laughs and holds his arm out and steady allowing you to rotate over it to your feet.

He leans over to try and kiss you, and you move your lips at the last minute to whisper in his ear,

"If you wanted to try some acrobatics in the bedroom, all you had to do was ask. I'm pretty sure I could suck your cock in that position."

You trot back to your team watching his face comprehend, imagine, and then try to clear the thought from his mind.

He looks directly at you with those piercing green eyes as the teams line up for the next play. You know he is coming for you on this play. Again you slip past the defensive line, or what counts as one for this game, and are open. Mark sends you another great pass and you catch it. Jake runs full out towards you, you lateral it over to one of your teammates and run towards Jake, causing a moment of confusion until you tuck and execute a perfect gymnastics tumble through his legs ending up on your feet with your hands in the air out of habit. Jake in his attempts to catch you slips and falls on the ground. Your teammates cheer the touchdown you assisted on. You walk over to Jake who is still on the ground.

"Are you okay, baby?" you ask leaning over him.

All you hear is a soft groan of what sounds like pain, you ask again,

"Are you okay, Jake? Say something."

He groans again and feebly raises his hand and crooks a finger for you to come closer and you lean farther down. Suddenly, Jake's arms snap up and grab you, pulling you down on top of him.

You squeal,

"No fair, I thought you were hurt."

"My pride is, it's not every day someone pulls out ninja gymnastics moves to evade a tackle while I end up on my ass."

"You liked it. If your ass is hurt I can massage it later."

"I'll hold to that promise later."

He lets you go and you help him stand up.

The football game breaks up as everyone filters into the house for more food and a drink. Jake and you are behind everyone else and you pull at Jake's sleeve to step out of the halo of the porch light. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean up for a kiss. He kisses back with just enough passion to not start something you can't finish till later.

"What was that for?" he asks, smirking, as he breaks the kiss.

"Can't I just kiss my boyfriend?"

"True, but you seem like you want to say something."

"I was just going to say, thank you for inviting me to Texas. It's been one of the best holidays I've ever experienced."

He runs his thumb across my check, "They're only going to get better from here on out."

"Promise?"

"I do," he mostly says inside the next kiss.

He starts to laugh,

"So, 100 percent chance that at least three of my aunts are staring out the window seeing what we're up to."

"Now I'm starting to feel embarrassed."

"Don't be, they're just a sucker for a good love story. Here's the brilliant part, is that if we turn around fast enough we'll catch them and they'll be more embarrassed."

You laugh and he says,

"On 3, I'll turn around and you can jump this way, 1,2,3!"

You execute Jake's plan and his aunts look like birds trying to escape a cage, two just give up and pretend that they were just casually talking by the window. Jake and you double over laughing, he takes your hand and leads you inside. The nosy aunts have scattered from the back door area by the time you enter the house.

The get together winds down pretty shortly after the football game breaks up. You help Sharon and Tom load up the car and say goodbye to everyone.

As you're saying goodbye to Nonna, she waves for Jake to lean down so she can tell him something,

"Next time I see you two, there better be a ring on her finger. Elsa, if he's hemming and hawing, give me a call and I'll set him straight."

You barely conceal your laughter and give Nonna a hug,

"Welcome to the family, Elsa. You can tell how much Jakey loves you and you love him."

The ride back to Jake's house is quiet and calm. All the good Italian food and wine is making you sleepy. It's about 10 pm when you get back and get everything unloaded. Tom and Sharon head off towards their bedroom and Jake and you climb the stairs to his room.

You walk in before Jake and flop on the bed, the day and the food making me very sleepy. The bed sags next to you and you roll over to face Jake.

"So what was the whole thing with Nonna's sauce?" you finally ask.

He laughs,

"It's a family tradition, maybe superstition. When I learned to make it Nonna said it was a very powerful recipe and to only make it to catch the person you want to marry. She said, 'It worked for me, your mom, and all her sisters and it'll work for you. This goes back generations of happy marriages.'"

"You made me your Italian grandma's magic marriage sauce on our third date?" you ask, incredulously. Jake's face blushes a little bit as he takes your hand.

"Yeah, I knew I was feeling something I hadn't felt before and you are a once in a lifetime kind of woman, to quote Maverick, so I thought if Nonna's special sauce could help why not try it."

"You are such a closet romantic"

"Only for you, babe, only for you."

"You are a once in a lifetime man, Jake Seresin. A once in a lifetime man that I would like to cuddle up with and go to sleep with."

"That sounds like an excellent idea."

The last thing I remember is the soft kiss Jake gives you on your forehead.

Chapter 13

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@midnightmagpiemama

@mygyn

[koala-otter]

can i get some soft modern!zukka pls 👉🏻👈🏻

anon honey, you can get whatever you like

I see a lot of fics where Sokka’s comforting and assuring Zuko, and as pointed out in this post by @nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice, something really great about their dynamic is the way Zuko actively appreciates and praises Sokka’s abilities when he’s fairly insecure about them

so here’s some soft modern!zukka written with that in mind 2k+ words

The ride back home is quiet except for the rain outside, because Sokka doesn’t say anything. Usually, after a party, he makes jokes about stuffy diplomats and comments extensively on the scant spread of hors d’oeuvres, but now, as Zuko watches him carefully in the back of the cab, Sokka only sits quietly with his arms crossed, his head turned to look out the window streaked with raindrops.

He is still quiet when they make it to their building in Ba Sing Se’s Middle Ring, and then when they walk up the three flights up stairs to their apartment. He doesn’t even turn on the light as he walks through the door and into the living room, pausing only to kick his shoes off on the way in. 

Zuko watches after him, flicking the light on once Sokka’s passed by in his stormy wake. He loosens his tie and leans against the open doorway of the living room as he racks his brain for something to say.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he finally asks. “There wasn’t a lot of food at the party. You must be starving.” 

“Not hungry,” Sokka replies with a huff. He sinks lower into the sofa.

Zuko widens his eyes. Something is really wrong, then. He ventures further into the living room, ready to work his subtle charms on his unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Is something wrong?” Zuko asks plainly.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sokka says loudly. He huffs again and crosses his arms.

Zuko rubs the right side of his face before looking at Sokka once more. “You know, it’s pretty obvious when you’re in a bad mood,” he says.

Sokka gives a short, dry laugh. “Right, and you’re the king of subtlety,” he says sarcastically.

They painted the walls robin’s egg blue in the living room when they moved in because it reminded Sokka of home, and it reminded Zuko of everything but his own. The building is old, so, while the hot water never lasts long, their apartment is a vision made up of high ceilings and tall windows with original crown molding. Zuko looks at the living room walls. During the day, the way they stretch up toward the white of the molding evokes memories of blue skies dotted with curly clouds. But at night, like now, when the light fades, and the wind whistles, and the windows are barraged with rain, the walls go dark. Almost as if the room itself were overcast.

Zuko lets a breath out and leaves the room. Sokka can’t keep anything to himself for long, but he still needs time to stew. They might as well have food ready for when he finally lets it out. 

Zuko reaches the kitchen and takes his suit jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair. The rice cooker sits on the countertop, a housewarming gift from Katara, ready for use. He takes out the pot and rinses rice in it, quickly, before measuring the water up to the first knuckle of his middle finger and placing it back in the cooker. He turns around from pressing the button to find Sokka shuffling in through the doorway, pulling a chair away from the kitchen table to settle heavily there instead. Zuko refrains from commenting on how he’ll wrinkle the jacket behind him, and instead grabs a packet of Sokka’s favorite seal jerky from the pantry and brings it with him to the table. He reaches over and takes Sokka’s hand. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks.

Sokka pouts for another moment before he’s ready. 

High-pitched, and a little whiny, he erupts, “Everyone at your work thinks I’m stupid!” 

Zuko startles away before his eyes narrow and he draws closer to Sokka. “What?” he asks, disbelieving.

Sokka waves his arms helplessly in the air and throws his head back. “All those stupid lawyers and human rights dorks you work with! They think I’m an idiot.”

Zuko almost wants to laugh, but, with a glance at Sokka’s face, thinks better of it. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he instead says earnestly. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

Sokka scoffs and crosses his arms. 

“Really, Sokka,” Zuko insists. “I don’t know anyone else getting their PhD in mechanical and aerospace engineering at Ba Sing Se, the best university in the world.” 

“I do,” Sokka says, though the corner of his mouth is tugging up into something of a smug smile.

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Right, only everybody in your lab,” he deadpans. He pauses. “There’s all the other stuff, too. Like when you help me with my work. An engineer doesn’t have to be so good at economics, too.”

Zuko works as an associate expert at the United Council of Nations for Economics, Science, and Culture. He has spent many a night dragging briefings home and poring over them at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of some graph or diagram, when Sokka will take a break from his designs and calculations to glance over his shoulder.

“Whoa, Earth Kingdom agriculture’s gonna take a real hit next year,” he once said, pointing to a data point. “That’s way too big of a cabbage surplus.”

Zuko could only gape at him, and then buy Sokka the most expensive gym bag he could find when raising the point in a meeting the next day earned him a raise. 

“It’s intuitive,” Sokka says almost humbly, looking down at the kitchen table.

“If it’s intuitive to you, you could replace everyone who was at the party tonight,” Zuko replies.

Sokka's expression turns doubtful, and he bites his lip. Zuko resists the urge to kiss it.

“They were all laughing at me,” Sokka says.

Zuko tilts his head at him. “You’re funny,” he supplies hopefully. 

“I wasn’t telling any jokes,” Sokka says sadly. 

The sound of his voice wrenches at Zuko’s heart, and he barely registers it when he rises and finds himself tilting Sokka’s face up by his chin, only able to get this angle when Sokka is sitting. He bends down and kisses him. It only lasts a second, and when he pulls back, Sokka looks no less upset. Zuko is about to try to drum up some more words of comfort for him when the rice cooker starts beeping. 

Zuko smiles apologetically at Sokka and goes back to the counter, pressing the button and opening the rice cooker. A little puff of steam rises from beneath the lid and disappears on its way to the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, turning around to look at Sokka and leaning his back against the counter. 

“Not your fault,” Sokka says with a shrug, though the dejection still reads clearly across his face. 

The torrent outside only seems to have gotten stronger. The wet leaves of the maple tree outside their building slap against their windows, the sound so loud and forceful, they can hear it even in the kitchen.

“Jeez,” Sokka says, shifting forward to glance back at the archway that leads to the living room, “that’s loud.”

Zuko spies the jacket behind him, and he immediately brightens.

“Here,” he says, coming over to reach into the breast pocket. Sokka looks up at him in confusion as he pulls out the folded page of a newspaper and a pen. “Take this.”

Sokka takes the paper and unfolds it carefully. His brow immediately furrows in confusion. “What am I supposed to do with a crossword?” he asks. The question almost sounds like a whine. He eyes the paper once more before looking back up at Zuko like he might have gone insane. “And one you already finished?”

Zuko shakes his head. “But I didn’t finish it,” he says excitedly. He points to an area of the grid. “Look, I couldn’t figure these three out. And when I got into work, I asked everyone, and they couldn’t figure them out either.” He smiles. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Sokka.”

Sokka looks doubtful once more, but he lays the crossword on the table. Zuko moves back to the counter and hears the click of a pen behind him. This is a good idea, he thinks, grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge and placing a pan on the stove. Now Sokka will be occupied while he makes dinner, and they’ll have food ready just in time for when Sokka feels better, and he has time to fry eggs just the way Sokka likes them, yolks so runny they practically bleed onto the rice, and then they can watch one of his favorite history documentaries, and they’ll curl up on the sofa and fall asleep to the sound of the rain, or if they don’t feel like sleeping—

“Done!” Sokka says.

Zuko whirls around, two eggs in his hand, still uncracked, to find Sokka grinning smugly at him. “How?” he demands, genuinely surprised. 

Sokka shrugs, the grin immovable. “Easy,” he says. Zuko puts the eggs down and goes back to the kitchen table, his hand landing on Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka grabs it as he explains, “‘A Northern delicacy’ is obviously roast duck. And then ‘failure to communicate,’ with the duck in mind, is that expression your uncle’s always saying: ‘Like a chicken talking to a duck.’ And then ‘skinny appendages?’” He looks up at Zuko before he cheers, barely able to contain himself, “Chicken legs!”

“Let me see that,” Zuko says, grabbing the paper with his free hand. He stares at it closely. A small scowl reaches his lips. “Are you kidding me? I spent a whole hour on the monorail trying to get these. I almost missed my stop! And it was just ‘roast duck’ the whole time?”

He looks up sharply when he hears Sokka laughing. 

“I mean,” Zuko starts, a blush creeping into his cheeks as he smiles awkwardly, “I told you you were smart.”

“Actually, I think you called me the smartest person you know,” Sokka corrects jokingly. 

“You are the smartest person I know,” Zuko insists. 

He keeps smiling at the scratchy characters of Sokka’s writing on the crossword next to the careful strokes of his own when he feels Sokka pulling him by the hand. Once Zuko is standing in front of him, Sokka throws his arms around his boyfriend’s middle and hugs him tightly, burying his head into Zuko’s ribs. 

“Thanks, Zuko,” he says quietly into the fabric of Zuko’s dress shirt. 

One of Zuko’s hands lands on the top of Sokka’s head, stroking his hair till he reaches the end of his wolf tail. Then, Zuko wraps his arms around Sokka’s neck and shoulders and hugs him back fiercely, protectively. 

“Love you,” he says, and he smiles when he feels Sokka nod against his chest. He rubs Sokka’s shoulders and upper back, trying to ease the tight muscle beneath his hands. “Do you think you might want something to eat now?”

Sokka pulls his face away from Zuko’s shirt to beam up at him. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says enthusiastically. 

After their easy dinner of fried eggs and seal jerky on rice, Zuko ends up being right; they go back to the living room and watch a documentary on the construction of the ancient air temples. They lie on the couch with Sokka between Zuko’s legs, his head on Zuko’s chest. The rain has stopped outside, but Zuko hardly notices with Sokka pressed against him. From this angle, he can pull the tie out of Sokka’s hair and comb his fingers through the soft, brown tresses, as well as the fuzz of his undercut, while the narrator debunks a theory that aliens teleported the building materials up the Potola Mountain Range.

“What do you think, Sokka?” Zuko whispers near his ear. “Did aliens build the air temples?”

Sokka’s response is a light snore against his chest. 

Zuko suppresses a laugh. There’s no way of getting Sokka to bed without waking him, so Zuko settles in behind him instead. He wraps one of his arms protectively around his boyfriend’s body, while the other stays in place to let his fingers keep playing with Sokka’s hair, enjoying the soft smile it coaxes onto his relaxed mouth. The clouds outside clear to make way for the nearly full moon, whose light spills through the towering windows into the apartment. The dark lifts from the room, the walls glow an otherworldly blue, and Zuko sinks beneath Sokka’s weight into the night’s quiet.

[astralaffairs]

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison payne

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

WASHINGTON D.C. — HOME to the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, a metro that no longer catches on fire, and most importantly, one Y/N L/N's new university. Coming in as a transfer student in the second semester of her junior year wasn't exactly her ideal scenario, but walking across a stage in a cap and gown sixteen months later certainly was — a degree is a degree.

She'd spent the previous two semesters abroad, traveling throughout Europe and trying to figure out her next step. She hadn't yet paid her junior year tuition, and on one fateful night in northern Italy, she transferred to the University of Westphalia on a whim (that whim being a generous financial aid package and a pre-existing housing offer, but that was neither here nor there). It'd been a jarring few months, spending the Christmas season packing up her entire life to not only leave Europe — a process that came with many heartbroken nights of hotboxing a friend's apartment and mourning the loss of her societal nap times — but also finally abandoning her hometown in favor of moving to the east coast.

The change may have left a lump in her throat, but it lifted a weight from her shoulders; she felt light on her feet despite the heavy D.C. snow. Much of the credit for that had to fall to her dearest Dolley Payne, the light of her life, the wind beneath her wings, the old best friend who'd found herself a dirt-cheap apartment just outside of campus and offered that Y/N come be her roommate. How could she resist a proposal like that?

However, that was also how she found herself a drink and a half deep and putting back on her boots at nine o'clock the night before classes started.

"Are you sure going out right before the first day back is a good idea?" Though Y/N was eyeing Dolley skeptically, she just rolled her eyes, pulling on her coat and scarf.

"Relax, it's not like we're going clubbing," she assured her, but when Y/N raised a dubious eyebrow, she continued, "Come on! You literally moved in last night. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't take you out at least once before everything's back in college mode?"

Dolley nudged Y/N playfully as she pulled on her coat, and the latter sighed. "I'm a new student here, Doll. I don't think showing up hungover to my first class is a particularly good look."

"You don't even have class until 3 PM!" she argued, and though she pursed her lips, Y/N had to admit Dolley had a point. "Relax, I won't even get you drunk. I just need you to come see the cute little speakeasy on fourth street. It's my favorite spot."

"'Speakeasy'?" Y/N questioned, buttoning up the front of her coat, and Dolley nodded enthusiastically.

"Mhm. You've gotta know somebody to know about it," she said. "It's a pretty open secret in this neighborhood, but it's one of the only bars that isn't always crowded."

"It's a Sunday night; how many people are really going out drinking?"

Dolley gave her a tired glance. "You'd be surprised."

———————

AND WHEN THEY stumbled upon the bar not twenty minutes later, surprised she was.

"This is really the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on Y/N’s knee as she leaned toward her in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyes were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an expectant eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from the v-neck of his sweater to where it was pulled taut around his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck. "Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come here and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women."

"It's like that, huh?" His soft huff made her smile. "Maybe I bought a drink for the wrong woman just now."

Y/N turned to him with her brow furrowed, already opening her mouth to rebuke him, but when she saw his teasing smile, she stopped herself. "You still decided to come over, didn't you?"

"So, what, you're just too irresistible?" He rose an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

"You said it, not me."

He laughed, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair beside her, and she pursed her lips as she eyed the man. He had a full head of dark, thick curls, and his tight sweater bulged at his biceps, drawing her distracted gaze away from his winning smile. "Mind if I join you, then?"

She was leaning onto the bar, resting on her forearms as she considered him, lips pursed. "I suppose some company couldn't hurt."

"Glad to hear it." Y/N was struggling to pull her eyes away from the wide grin he wore, but as he took a seat beside her, he didn't seem to mind. "So what's a woman like you doin' drinkin' alone on a Sunday?"

"Good question," she started, lips pursed as she considered him -- because really, what was she doing? Playing ghost wingwoman for Dolley? Reminiscing on her shitty flings in Europe? Trying to sober up from the sugar content of her sickeningly sweet cocktails so she didn't throw up from something other than alcohol? "Maybe I've just been waiting for someone to finally approach me."

Her mischievous smile made his eyebrows shoot up, surprised but more than pleasantly so. "'S that right?" The noncommittal tilt of her head gave him little to go on. "Sorry to say it, but if you're lookin' to meet people, this isn't the first place I'd recommend, sweetheart."

"It seems to be working for me so far," she pointed out, raising a smug eyebrow, and the man laughed, eyes shining. "Then again, I don't even know your name. Have we really even formally met?"

"You make an excellent point," he conceded, and when Y/N took another sip of her water, his eyes flickering down to her mouth was the furthest thing from subtle. "But what's the intrigue of a mysterious stranger approachin' you at a bar if I just tell you my name, hm?"

"What, are you going to make me beg for it?" The undertone of her own words certainly wasn't lost on Y/N, not as her voice dropped to a murmur, the corners of her lips curling up into a mischievous smile. He didn't seem thrown off, either; his eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, a fire blazing behind them that Y/N could've sworn hadn't been there even a minute before.

"Don't you start givin' me ideas," he said quietly, and she could feel her breath catch, her stomach turn, but she paid it little mind, "unless that's what you're really lookin' for."

"I don't think I know what you're implying." The innocent smile Y/N had plastered on made him raise an amused brow, despite that her voice sounded as though she'd been winded. "But it does seem awfully mean to make such a fuss over something so simple. I have to say, I almost feel like I'm being exploited."

"Hey, I came all the way over here. 'S your turn to put in some leg work now." When he bumped his elbow into hers, she hadn't expected to laugh at the brief, teasing action, but whether it was hormones or her excessive consumption of glucose, something about that night had her feeling just a bit lighter than usual.

"Alright, alright," she finally caved, dropping the coy facade. "What can I ever do to make up for the wasted martini and two meters of walking you had to overcome?"

"You can tell me where you're from, for starters." Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow at the question, folding her arms, but he only shrugged. "What? Haven't seen you around here before; I know I'd remember if I had." She rolled her eyes when he winked but didn't cut him off. "So what's your deal, then? In town visitin' a friend? Here for some kinda election event?"

"I just moved here, actually. I'm new to the neighborhood."

"So you're livin' around here?"

"So you're already trying to stalk me?"

He laughed at her accusatory stare, her lips pursed. "Nah, 'm just from this part of town," he said, but hesitated a moment to continue as he eyed her curiously. "Can you blame me for takin' interest when I hear a pretty face like yours is gonna be out 'n' about here more often?"

"Excuse you, I'm much more than just a pretty face," Y/N said defensively, but the man just shrugged.

"Well, since you're refusin' to tell me anythin' about yourself, how am I supposed to know that?" The look in his eyes was challenging, and she let out an amused huff, trying to bury how endeared she was in a facade of exasperation.

"Alright, smart guy; you win this one," she said with a scowl, but her lips quirked as she continued, "I just settled into an apartment building a block or two over. Now have I earned your name?"

"I'm Thomas," he supplied.

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeated quietly, the look in his eyes softening. "So, where'd you move here from?"

"A little bit of everywhere," she responded vaguely, taking another sip of her drink, and Thomas cocked a brow.

"Care to explain?"

"I've been abroad," Y/N laughed, enjoying his look of bemusement. "I'm from Ohio, originally, but I went to Chicago for school, and I've spent the past year or so in Europe."

He nodded, pausing a moment at her words. "Really? Ohio?"

"I spent a year halfway across the world, and that's what you choose to focus on?" Her words were almost indignant, and the disbelief in her narrowed eyes made him laugh.

"'M sorry, I just..." He trailed off, his eyes wandering down her figure, and she gave him a skeptical glance, turned back to her drink. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a Midwesterner."

"There's a reason I ran for the hills the first chance I got." She snorted, taking a sip of her seltzer water as she shook her head. Her gaze was absent, drifting across the wall behind the bar, but before Thomas could question it, she'd turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "So what about you? What's your origin story? Texas? Alabama?"

"Virginia, born and raised," he answered easily, clear pride in it laced through his voice, but he glanced at her suspiciously a moment later. "I really strike you as bein' from Alabama?"

"Listen, the southern accent was all I had to go off of. I did my best," Y/N defended, trying and failing to keep a laugh out of her tone, and he scoffed.

"Sure you did, sweetheart." The sarcastic lilt to his voice came alongside a broad grin, and had his voice not been so playful, she may have written him off right there and then. As it was, though, she couldn't even bring herself to scowl at the words. Instead, she held his warm stare, trying not to concentrate on the fact that she could feel his body heat permeating his sweater just inches to her left, trying to reign in her spiking pulse. Being beyond hyper-aware of just how close Thomas was, though, it shouldn't have startled Y/N when he knocked his knee into hers. When her eyes refocused, having been lost in thought, she could see in his eyes the pleasure he was taking in how skittish he'd made her.

"Anyway, now that I'm not some cryptic intruder," he started -- he didn't seem to notice that Y/N's focus was still fixed on subduing the heat rising in her neck, "can I buy you that drink?"

—————————

THUS BEGAN THE rest of their night. It was nearly eleven when Dolley texted her from the other side of the room, a frantic plea for forgiveness if she went home with James. (She swore, she hadn't meant to leave Y/N alone on their first night out together -- besides, Y/N seemed to have found a nightcap of her own. Forget a tall drink of water; the stranger in burgundy was a daiquiri and a half -- Dolley's words, not mine.)

And really, Y/N didn't mind. She was more than willing to walk home alone if it meant a night of just a little adventure. She ended up staying at the bar with Thomas until the owner nearly had to throw them out -- and Y/N couldn't blame them. Neither of them had had anything to drink in over an hour, so she supposed that as the clock neared midnight, they really weren't making much of a dent in the profit margin.

But it wasn't her fault, really. No one told her when she'd left her apartment that evening that, for once in her life, the person sending her a drink wouldn't be an incel with a god complex. Quite frankly, not only was that bullet dodged, but Thomas quickly proved to be more than a few inches above the low, low bar she'd set.

The night grew colder outside the windows, but the pair of them were preoccupied, busy inching closer, her hand falling upon his arm when she laughed, his legs brushing against hers as he acted as though he hadn't even noticed. They could both tell her demure front was just for show; her skin burned under his touch, layers of fabric be damned, and his gaze was electric. She'd long since thrown caution to the wind, anyway. Where the night was headed was clear only minutes after he'd sat down beside her; the air between them was charged. Sure, she'd only met him a couple hours prior, but any sort of a spark could certainly make a fire to last at least one night -- and last it did.

However, she didn't expect to have to be the one to push it that far. Brazenness seemed to be Thomas's mode of operation, so she was almost surprised when their being herded out onto the street below didn't immediately end in his hands on her skin, her body pulled flush against him. When they reached the musty alleyway, she was struggling to believe the firebrand of a man who'd bought her a drink hours before had suddenly become so mild in the night air.

But he'd bought her a drink. The ball was in her court.

"You cold, sweetheart?" Y/N glanced back over her shoulder, shivering, to see Thomas watching her with concern in his eyes. To be candid, she was fine -- winter in D.C. had nothing on the frigid bite of the air in Finland -- but she couldn't pretend how worried he looked wasn't part of what was tempting her to deal with the devil, heavy shadows clinging to his brow.

"I'm alright," she replied quietly, offering him a reassuring smile, but his creased brow didn't part.

"You sure? That coat doesn't look all that heavy."

"Really. I'm okay," she said with a light laugh, though she didn't think how she'd begun sniffling as her nose started to run was helping her case all that much. "I have a short walk home; it's no biggie."

That, however, made his eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. "You're walkin' home? Y/N, I dunno how safe that is."

"It's hardly snowing."

"I mean for you to be alone in the city in the middle of the night," he said, pausing as he reached where she stood just before the opening of the alleyway. "Can I call you an Uber?"

She turned her head to find him right by her side, perhaps an inch between the pair, his warm breath tickling her neck as he looked down at her. Her smile was hesitant. "I'm not letting you burn up some fossil fuels for a two block car ride. I can take care of myself."

"How 'bout if I walk you home?" he offered, and she let out a light sigh. "C'mon, leavin' you here alone in the middle of the night doesn't sit right with me. If somethin' happened..."

Though he trailed off, the implication in his words was obvious, and Y/N raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that, because a stranger might follow me home, I should let a different stranger follow me home to prevent it?"

When she put it like that, Thomas couldn't help his quiet laugh at the irony of the situation. "Hey, I thought we'd agreed I'm not a stranger anymore," he protested, but Y/N looked him up and down skeptically.

"What, you paid for my drinks and called me pretty, and suddenly we're besties?"

"Now, we both know 'besties' wasn't exactly what I was goin' for," he said matter-of-factly, his smile sharp but playful, and despite how tilted the whole situation felt, she couldn't hold back her chuckle. She rolled her eyes, stuffed her hands in her pockets as she turned back to the well-lit sidewalk before them, the January snow crunching under her boots, but when she met his eyes, Thomas's expression had softened. He rose an inquiring eyebrow, and finally, she sighed.

"Yeah, you walking me home would be nice."

A grin split his light demeanor. "Alright. Lead the way, sweetheart."

"Follow me."

They took a right out of the alleyway, and as traffic continued to roar by beside them, speeding through the night, as the low buzz of the antiquated streetlights permeated the air, they fell into a comfortable silence, never falling out of step with one another. Snow was flecked across both their coats, and shadows were cast across their features, cycling back with each passing lamp.

Y/N hadn't been exaggerating when she deemed it a short walk home; it couldn't have been more than five minutes before they found themselves nearing the front steps of her building, and she looked up at him.

"Hey, thanks for tonight," she said, voice timid, and he turned to her with a wide smile.

"'S been my pleasure," he replied. "Sorry for keepin' you out so long; your roommate must be startin' to wonder."

When Y/N laughed lightly, Thomas raised an eyebrow, apparently not following whatever she'd taken away from his words. "I have a feeling she's a little too preoccupied to be worrying about me right now," she said dryly. She'd been back in town for not 48 hours, and Dolley was already going out on her own -- as supportive as Y/N was, Dolley had a habit of getting too attached too quickly. She was praying James wouldn't end up another regrettable hookup.

However, Thomas couldn't exactly hear her thoughts, something Y/N hadn't considered before tightly grabbing ahold of the rope to her mental tangent -- it was his fault, really. She couldn't be blamed for his lack of talent in mind-reading. But as he continued to watch her expectantly, as she pulled herself back to the present, she finally said, "She's spending the night with someone else tonight. Make of that what you will."

He shook his head in amusement. "Good for her."

"I'm sure her host thinks so."

A moment passed in quiet under the frigid night sky, Y/N hesitant to act but Thomas hesitant to leave. He was the one to break it.

"It was good to meet you, Y/N," he said softly, and she raised her eyebrows. Her window of opportunity was dwindling. "Hope I'll see you--"

"D'you want to come upstairs?" She hadn't meant to cut him off, but the words were spilling from her tongue before she could lose her nerve. Her heart was pounding; she wasn't fond of having to make the risky move, and the tentativeness in his raised eyebrows wasn't helping.

"Seriously?" Oh, God. Was it really such a ridiculous idea that he was struggling to believe she was asking? "I..." Thomas let out a heavy sigh when he trailed off before pursing his lips, tongue in cheek and looking everywhere but at her. "'S temptin', but... I can't do that to you."

Y/N only stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You've been drinkin' all night." His tone left little room for negotiation, but she was on the edge of taking offense. "I know you don’t seem drunk, but if your judgment isn't all the way there, it's not happenin'. G'night, sweetheart."

She was still standing in stunned silence when he turned to walk back the way he came, but when he started retreating in her field of vision, she called after him, "Hang on." To her relief, he looked back at her quizzically, footsteps stalling on the snow-coated sidewalk, and she took a step toward him. "I've been drinking seltzer water and fruit juice all night, Thomas," she said, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "So if you're not interested, you don't need to make excuses, but I'm asking you while perfectly sober."

Her stomach seemed to be trying to turn itself inside-out as she waited anxiously for him to respond; the calculated way he looked her over only exacerbated the feeling. "Have you had anything to drink tonight?"

"Next to nothing." The pause between them was heavy, both their minds racing but far from in consensus. "Your move, Thomas."

Not three seconds passed before he was striding toward her decisively, and she inhaled sharply when his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek, thumb sweeping over the expanse of skin. She was flush against his chest, too surprised to even react, her hands resting at his upper chest, and her eyes widened when she felt his cheekbone brush against the crown of her head. He tilted his head down to look at her, his lips hardly a hair away from the top of her ear. She could feel his breath down her neck, setting her nerves alight. "Can I kiss you?"

Her answer was immediate. "Please."

And before she had time to think, his lips were on hers; he was tangling a hand into her hair. He wasted no time in starting to walk her back toward her building, steadying her with a firm grip on her waist as she stumbled backward.

She yelped when her heel hit the bottom step up to her building's door, and she broke the kiss, then clinging to his shoulders in an effort not to fall, struggling to hold her weight on her legs as she lifted one foot onto the first step. Both their chests were heaving, and Thomas wore a wry grin.

"I've been wantin' to do that since I sent you that martini," he murmured, dipping down to kiss along her jawline, and Y/N let out a breathy chuckle.

"So you had to wait, what, three hours?" she retorted, tone dry. "Oh, how you've suffered."

"Had to wait three hours too long," he corrected her, and before she could jab back at him, his mouth again found hers. She moaned against him when he bit down lightly on her bottom lip, responding in kind by rolling her tongue teasingly against his. It was too much and yet still, not enough. His hands were all over her; she couldn't focus on how his body felt pressed into hers as the sensation quickly overwhelmed her, and when his grip on her hip tightened, she gasped into his mouth.

"Thomas, wait, I--" She was cut off before she could get the thought out. "Thom-- Mmh--!" He kissed her ardently, reveling in her response to his touch every bit as much as she was reveling in the feeling of it. Regardless, she pulled back, looking him in the eye, and held him off with a hand on his chest. "Let's go in. I'd rather be somewhere a lot warmer and a little more..." --she traced a finger down the lapel of his designer coat with a sly smile, finally using it to pull him closer-- "...private."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He split from her, tugging her alongside him and up the stairs by her hand, and her eyes widened at his frantic movements. She didn't even flinch at first, stunned by how abrupt the action had been, but when he glanced back over his shoulder at her, her fingers already linked between his, she drew in a shuddering breath.

"Let's go."

From there, their night was a blur of heavy jeans and chunky sweaters being scattered across Y/N's bedroom, their coats discarded and long forgotten not three feet past her apartment door. Whatever gods were above seemed to have smiled on her; she and Dolley both striking it lucky on the same night felt too perfect for it to be coincidental, especially as Y/N's bedroom door slammed loudly behind them, her body pinned against its interior moments later.

Every impatient touch was ablaze, brimming with fireworks and crave as her eager hands found their way up his shirt, his curls bouncing when he pulled it over his head.

It was all reckless, every second of it, but as Y/N saw it, what was the worst that could happen? The occasional uncomfortable run-in with Thomas if they passed on the street? That was beyond worth her evening of adrenaline. She gasped when he pushed her back onto her mattress, climbing on immediately after her.

"Thomas," she moaned, threading her fingers into his curls as his lips worked their way down her neck.

"What is it, sweetheart? Hm?"

She squealed when he nipped at her sensitive skin, nails digging into his upper back, but her tense muscles relaxed as he began sucking a hickey into the same spot a moment later. "I need you. Please."

She could feel his smile against her skin, the vibrations of his light chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He pulled back as the pads of his fingers dug into her hips, and she inhaled sharply. His eyes were shining, predatory and smug. "How could I say no?"

——————

COME THE NEXT morning -- or, really, the next afternoon -- Y/N was grateful to have escaped without a hangover, completely absent a headache, the light of day not even a bother as it glared past her curtains. However, the minute she tried to sit up, she realized that she certainly had a backache, and she wasn't entirely convinced her legs would be willing to work when she tried to stand.

Realization struck her a moment later; she winced as she sat bolt upright, ignoring the ache in her shoulders when she lunged for her phone. Oh, shit.

"Thomas," she hissed, shoving his snoring body through her comforter. "Thomas, wake up."

He sniffed as he shifted in her bed, trying to speak through his heavy yawn. "What's goin' on?"

"What's going on is that it's almost two o'clock." Her scowl was deep-set as she shoved the covers off of herself, paying him little mind as she began to root through her drawers for something to wear. "And you need to go. I have somewhere to be."

It hadn't occurred to her to be self-conscious as she paced through her room, but when she turned back to see Thomas's lazy stare following her still-naked body, she could feel her cheeks flare. "Get dressed."

"Alright, alright," he said, sleep still heavy in his voice as he reached for his phone where he'd discarded it on his long-abandoned jeans. She didn't see it, busy pulling on underwear and yanking on a hoodie over her the heavily-marked skin of her chest. "Fuck. I'm gonna be late."

She rolled her eyes when his own panic was finally what kicked him into gear, as he began shoving his legs back into his pants in a frenzy. "Jesus, do I need to get home," he muttered to himself, unsteadily typing something into his phone with one hand as he struggled to buckle his belt with the other. "Sorry for crashin', I--"

"It's fine; it was late as all hell," Y/N cut him off, too preoccupied to concern herself with what'd happened the night prior. She was clinging to the desperate hope that her laptop might not be dead as she dug through he drawers for its charger. "When you find all your stuff, you can just go."

"Alright. I..." He glanced to her hesitantly, pausing in his quest to put himself back together before he could flee with his dignity and whatever plans he had for that afternoon still intact. She glanced at him inquisitively in his silence. "I'll see you around, Y/N."

She offered him a small smile before he returned to trying to dig up his sweater, completely oblivious to where he could've possibly tossed it. "Let's hope so."

Those were all the words exchanged before she ducked into her bathroom, began running the shower, and wiped her smeared mascara from where it'd been running down her cheeks. Thomas left with no more pomp or circumstance.

She hardly had time to fix her appearance after she showered, doing the bare minimum before she rushed back to check on the charge her laptop had left. 74% would be enough to make it through her first lecture, right? She didn't waste a second on dwelling.

Her first class was, to her dismay, halfway across campus from her apartment. She hardly slipped into the lecture hall in time, the clock striking 2:59 PM as she took a seat toward the back, quietly greeting the person in the seat beside her as they glanced up from their phone. Maybe her rolling up less than sixty seconds before the lecture began wasn't exactly the best first impression for her, coming in as a 2nd semester junior at a new college, but she'd managed to beat Professor Jefferson, so it appeared she was safe.

It was 3:03 when he showed up; Y/N had just finished convincing the fan on her laptop to stop shrieking, had found a pen nestled into the deepest depths of her bag. She was scrolling absentmindedly through Twitter when the back doors of the lecture hall were thrown open one final time. She didn't look up at first, but his voice made her eyes widen.

"Afternoon, everybody. Hope you've all been doin' well through the long winter." His voice was upbeat as he padded down the carpeted steps toward the desk at the front of the room.

Y/N was fairly sure she was going to be sick, and unfortunately, she had no hangover to chalk it up to. Disbelief permeated her every shaky breath, the feeling trounced only by dread. Her throat had gone dry.

"For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Professor Jefferson. I started in the political science department this last fall," he said as he reached the floor, loud voice projected through every corner of the hall, tone joking when he added, "And for anyone who's eventually gonna ask, I promise 'm well aware of how young I am."

When he turned around, Y/N's worst fears were realized -- though, she was certainly surprised at how put-together he looked, having left her apartment just one short hour earlier.

"I've spent the past few years workin' in government, but I'm glad to be back in classrooms, even if I'm on the other side of 'em." He set his briefcase down on his desk, looking the room over as he withdrew his papers, opened his laptop. Y/N was sinking progressively further and further down in her chair. "I trust you've all done the assigned readin'?"

He was met with a scattered chorus of yeses and halfhearted noises of affirmation, and he chuckled. "Well, 'm glad to hear you enjoyed 'em so much."

She wasn't sure whether his words being met with soft laughs dispersed throughout the room was because of the sarcasm sitting heavy in his words, or instead because of how contagious his bright grin was.

"Alright, alright, the enthusiasm'll get there. Feel free to pull up the syllabus on whatever you've got with you, but it'll be projected up here as we go through it." The class sounded slightly more awake by then, and while it surely wasn't everyone, Y/N felt confident enough that a decent fraction of the noise was her classmates murmuring with disbelief about how this was their professor, no doubt interspersed with jokes about suddenly taking an intimate interest in political philosophy, capped off with a wink.

But she was no one to judge. Despite being unsure whether her heart was trying to beat its way through her ribcage or if it'd altogether stopped, when Thomas leaned against the front of the desk, arms folded and ankles crossed, she couldn't bring herself to regret the events of the past sixteen hours -- were she given a chance to turn back time, it was a mistake she'd readily make again.

"I'll take any questions as we go on through it," he continued, but that time, as he scanned the crowd, Y/N's luck seemed to have run out. However, though she'd been given the luxury of a gradual realisation, the inevitable punch in the gut of recognition hit him all at once. His eyes locked onto hers, immediately going wide, his expression dropping to one of alarm, and she held his gaze warily.

His silence was a fraction of a second too long, long enough to raise questions, before his self-awareness kicked in, and he picked his jaw up off the floor. The smile he plastered on was riddled with unease. "Hope everything in the course description was clear. I have no doubt this'll be an... excitin' semester."

He played off his shock easily, falling back into his upbeat persona, but as he went on, Y/N felt lucky she'd already read the syllabus — she didn't process a single word out of his mouth. The class was three hours long, and only five minutes into the first day, she’d apparently already slept with her professor.

If this was the semester she had ahead of her, then, well... 'exciting' was certainly a word for it.

[beastars-takes]

Zootopia Takes: The Power of Really Liking Each Other

Our main event, Beastars Takes, will resume soon, but in the meantime I want to talk about one of my favorite movie relationships:

Has this been talked about to death by other people? Yes. But this is my blog and I write it for free so I can do what I want.

Note: this is not a shipping post--this is just an examination of their canonical relationship in the movie and why it rules.

At first glance, this is your typical enemies-to-friends story. I love those. But while the typical arc tends to involve two characters who can’t stand each other, who eventually develop a grudging respect for one another (often through some kind of shared ordeal) and maybe thaw into actual friendliness at the end. Zootopia packs all of that into the first half--by the midway point they are clearly not just allies, but friends, and by the end of the film they’re inseparable.

It’s important to recognize this isn’t just for the hell of it, or just to be cute--the closeness and trust they build is the linchpin of their success in the final moments of the movie.

All the reasons why, after the jump.

Something I talked about in the previous post was the messaging of Zootopia, and I don’t want to rehash it too much here. It’s a movie about prejudice, and the work it takes to overcome it. A key theme (one that it shares with Beastars, incidentally) is that friendships with those who are different from you are hard--but they are worth it.

Part 1: They Hate Each Other! (Right?)

Now...it goes without saying that when these two first meet, they bounce off each other hard. Each is seeing the other at their absolute worst.

Judy can’t stand Nick because he takes every bit of optimism she has about this world and throws it back in her face. She want to use him as a prop in her vision of an equal society, where “not all foxes” are crooks. He laughs at her. He humiliates her. All he has to do is walk away, but he takes his time. He twists the knife.

For his part, Nick sees a laughably ineffectual bunny who condescends to him and threatens him with jail for the crime of...humiliating her. She may not personally be a threat to him, but she wields the institutional power of the ZPD--a power he has plenty of reason to be afraid of--and she does it irresponsibly.

On first viewing, Nick inarguably wins this exchange. He avoids arrest, reads her to absolute filth and leaves her stuck in cement.

And he makes her really sad. Nice!

But, and I don’t pretend to be the first person to have pointed this out, on second viewing it’s obvious he can guess her story so well because it’s basically his story. The only difference, in his mind, is that he’s accepted the reality that he’ll never be allowed to live the life he wants, while she is still vainly pursuing hers.

I don’t know about you, dear reader, but the people I’ve met who have always most pissed me off are the people who remind me of things I hate about myself. The people who seem to embody the flaws I’ve worked to minimize. Nick’s naive hope is what has brought him the most pain in his life. He sees this bunny full of the same naive hope, surmises that she’s facing the same failures he did and yet stubbornly refusing to learn from them. It’s irritating.

Pictured: irritation.

Maybe I am projecting, but if Nick is anything like me, he probably didn’t walk away entirely happy from this exchange. Yes, he “won,” but he was also reminded of everything about himself that he least wanted to think about.

Part 2: They Are Not Very Good at Hating Each Other

So, the thing about Judy is, she is naive. By default, she assumes people are her friend. But she’s not stupid.

Nick assumes she is stupid, not least because she hasn’t wisely given up on her dreams like he has, and...he learns that she maybe not so fun to pick on after all.

So they wind up doing the first part of this enemies-to-friends routine, allies of necessity.

So, naturally, because he is Him, he makes it his mission to torment her.

In fact, we get two whole scenes where all he does he does is watch her struggle and make this face.

The first read of this behavior is that he’s just enjoying the failures of someone he hates. He says as much later. But I would also argue--from a viewer’s perspective--Judy is ridiculously entertaining and charming throughout these encounters. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and it’s hard not to like people like that.

Is there more happening here than just schadenfreude? I won’t pretend to know for sure. But worth considering.

By the time they’re investigating the limousine, his sabotage has diminished into something more like gentle trolling. And you can’t see this face, in context...

...and tell me she isn’t starting to like him, at least a little bit.

He’s also starting to help! By the time they’re past the minor detour of almost being murdered by a mob boss, he’s entirely cooperative, helping her conduct interviews and look for clues. The movie doesn’t call particular attention to this, but it almost did.

Finally, let’s look at Nick’s behavior when they’re being chased by a rabid jaguar. He could have absolutely booked it, with no regard for the cop who was blackmailing him into helping her.

These moments go by so quickly, but they’re hugely revealing of his true character, even before he defends her in front of Chief Bogo.

He picks her up when she falls.

More importantly, when he gets to the skytram, his first instinct isn’t to jump in--it’s to hold the door for her:

He sees she can’t make it, and she even tells him to leave without her. He doesn’t. He holds the door until he can’t anymore, and as a result he’s nearly killed.

Nick is a good boy.

Part 3: They Are Friends Now

She save his life, so he saves her job. This is a key story beat, and it’s a Disney movie, so there’s not a lot of subtlety (except how the specular highlights in Judy’s eyes fade as Bogo asks for her badge--the light literally goes out of her. Go watch).

But it’s such a sweet moment of teamwork--he was contemptuous toward her from the start because she believed in herself. This is the first time she’s simply given up in the whole movie, and he steps up. Because he believes in her now.

And she believes in him! Or, she wants to.

Judy’s supportiveness here is sweet, but it’s also still a little selfish. It’s not that different from their interaction at the ice cream shop, really: she wants to meet a fox who defies stereotypes, who is easy for her to like. Someone who ticks all the boxes to prove her family wrong.

When he starts being more foxy, later--self-identifying as a predator, showing his claws, challenging her--we learn that her supportiveness is conditional.

Am I being too hard on her? Sure. She’s been in bunny country her whole life. She’s new to this and she’s trying. But that’s where she’s at.

But still! They’re friends now. They’re no longer pretending they don’t like each other. Judy’s openly encouraging, Nick is fully in her corner, and we get a few cute sequences where they keep being more and more impressed with each other.

He’s still not above affectionately messing with her, and she’s getting worse at pretending to dislike it.

And he trusts her enough to let her flush him down a toilet...

Which gives us this heartbreaking shot where he thinks she’s drowned. He cares a whole lot about this bunny.

She likes him too! Enough to want to team up on a more permanent basis. This is pretty standard-fare enemies-to-friends stuff now, but considering where we started, and considering they’ve known each other for all of two days? Not bad!

It’s clear this moment means far more to him than it does to her, too. It’s actually taken very little persuading from Judy to get him to step up and be brave and helpful and trustworthy. The fact that he’s turned around and opened up to her so fast suggests he’s been ready for an opportunity like this for his entire life, and never got it. I mean, look at his face.

The foundational flaw in her worldview is still there, though, and it’s about to do almost-irreparable damage to their whirlwind friendship.

Part 5: Fuck!

So Judy gives her press conference, and gives a great example of why police usually answer every question with “the matter is currently under investigation,” or “we’re not prepared to comment further at this time.” Honestly, though, this is on Bogo--I had coworkers who once did some press interviews, and they spent over a week doing media training. They didn’t even break a major kidnapping case. So, you know.

So she repeats some weird race science stuff she assumes is true because someone in a lab coat said it, which is amusingly similar to how race science (or “race realism”) often propagates--people with low-rent doctorates from crappy universities write a bunch of scientifically shoddy material and people say “well, he has a PhD!”

And then Nick has a PTSD flashback? I don’t want to be irresponsible and make an armchair diagnosis, but also...that is absolutely what is depicted on screen.

You’re not immediately “better” after something like this, which is why I cut Nick a bit of slack when he basically blows up their friendship.

Judy...doesn’t get it. It’s completely heartbreaking, because she likes him, and doesn’t understand why he’s mad, and isn’t self-reflective enough to stop and think maybe he has a point. Not until it’s too late. He tests her, and she fails.

Their friendship has always been a little inequal. He’s trusted her with everything, shown her his deepest vulnerabilities. She’s never trusted him completely.

So he leaves.

I don’t want to impugn her professionalism by suggesting she wouldn’t have quit the force if she hadn’t had that friendship-ending fight, but, you know. Maybe.

This is the second time she gives up, and this time he’s not there to pick her up again.

Judy is intensely goal-oriented, and I don’t think she realized what Nick’s friendship meant to her, as the first person in the city who truly believed in her, until it was too late. Judy is sweet and well-meaning but emotional intelligence is not really her strong suit (which is actually cool to see in a female Disney protagonist, imo).

So, while it would have been nice for her to track Nick down immediately and apologize, I think it makes sense for them to spend time apart. Her own self-perception has been shattered, and she needs time to figure out how she went so wrong.

So when she does come back, she delivers one of the best animated apologies I’ve ever seen. Only AtLA compares, in my mind.

Part 6: They Are Much Better Friends Now

Nick forgives her, because of course he does.

(Sidebar--people talk about how he kept her carrot pen the whole time they were apart. He also kept his handkerchief from Ranger Scouts, AND he only wears shirts that match the wallpaper in his mother’s house. He desperately needs a hug.)

Credit to Nick also, who can’t fight and has no police training whatsoever, who has multiple times been almost killed helping her out, now agreeing to help her out again. She’s not even threatening him with jail this time!

We, the viewers, are then rewarded with this great montage of them being best friends.

She’s finally stopped pretending not to be amused by his shenanigans.

(One other sidebar here--Nick is canonically a really gentle character. For all their adventuring, this is only time in the movie he gets physical with anyone: to protect the bunny. Again, he definitely can’t fight and immediately gets smacked across the room. But it’s the thought that counts, right?)

Per the post title, more visual evidence of them really liking each other.

Judy trips on a dead body, and here we get the second time in the movie that Judy tells Nick to leave without her, and he won’t--this time, he refuses explicitly.

Which then gives us the opportunity for the big moment--the culmination of all this care and intimacy and trust.

In order to con Bellwether, she lets him stalk her, and bite her throat. This has been often pointed out, but it’s important--throughout the movie, Judy’s wriggling rabbit nose has been used as a signifier of fear and suspicion. It wriggles when she’s spying on Nick at the beginning. It wriggles like hell when he confronts her after her press conference.

Not here. Doesn’t move. It’s a great, clearly intentional animation choice that tells a close observer (or more likely, a repeat viewer) that she’s completely unafraid.

She trusts him.

I could write a whole other post about how well-scripted this movie is, how every scene is doing half a dozen different things, but the way the personal and the professional come together here, the way the threads of prejudice and friendship and the police case all tie together in this moment. It’s good shit.

This is basically where things end, in terms of character development, but we get a bunch more shots of them clearly adoring each other:

So there it is.

To sum up, certainly not suggesting this movie invented “characters liking each other,” or anything like that. But it goes above and beyond in portraying a friendship that’s not just one born of circumstance, one that’s authentic and unmistakably loving. Characters who enjoy spending time with each other, regardless of what’s going on around them.

I hope everyone is able to experience friendships like that. I absolutely treasure the few I have.

Appendix: The Shipping Thing

I hope I’ve made all this ship-agnostic, which was my intention. I personally like the ship, and I think the reason it resonates with people is because that love and trust and closeness is clearly there, and a romantic relationship creates a lot more easy opportunities for dialing those things up even higher.

I would also argue, if pressed, that the amount of teasing and physicality that happens reads as pretty flirty. If they were humans I knew in real life, I’d definitely think there was something going on there. But I’m an American, where touching and emotional intimacy tends to be read as romantic. Also, animals are a lot more cuddly than humans. So who knows? I think it’s perfectly reasonable to read them as platonic friends until the end of time.

But, one way or another, they love each other a lot. Shout out to this, one of the most emotionally rewarding relationships I’ve ever seen in a cartoon.

[rudysrings]

🍼 oooh any advice on writing? especially a series and how to hype up ur work ??

My favorite thing to do is try to show not tell and add unique subtleties to your characters...like fidgeting you’re show you’re nervous, fidgeting with a SPECIFIC object to have something you can consistently call back. (JJ and his lighter for example)(or like mentioning in passing that someone has a callous or groove on their ring finger to show they just got out of a relationship rather than through dialogue) use ellipses and dashes omg bc irl, nobody is so so smooth in the way they speak

Use grammarly! Even if u have a PhD in lit (ok maybe it’s not necessary in that case) sometimes it’ll help with a comma here and there which can make all the difference in the flow of your writing.

Try to break up large dialogues with small actions, like, she took a breath, he ran a hand through his hair, she clenched a fist, they lit a joint, idk just shitty examples lol

To signal boost, definitely tag your moots (have no shame bc those people love you and want to see ur work and hype it up), definitely add a lot of hashtags so that sometimes people looking for something like you’re fic will stumble upon yours and maybe love it! (Only don’t make the mistake of tagging a pairing that’s not in your fic bc then it’ll get attention you don’t want lol) Have a masterlist!!! I didn’t realize how much of a difference that made until I made one!!!

[writingpuddle]

anything with baby neil is my life blood right now, like de aged to four or five and just so precious and doe eyed and everyone can love on him like he deserved to have!

*shows up two months late with starbucks*

I have no idea if this is what you were looking for anon, butI sure did have fun writing it. also on AO3

—

“So,” Nicky said, huddling at the doorway withthe others. “This is fun!”

“Nicky,” Dan hissed. “Not the time!”

A pair of wide blue eyes poppedup behind the couch. Dan tried for a friendly smile, but the eyes dropped backdown the second they spotted her.

“What? It’s been awhile sincewe’ve all hung out with the ickle newbies around—”

“How the hell did this happen?” Allison demanded.

“I don’t know!” Kevin said. “Oneminute I was in the bedroom watching videos and the next moment they were—like that.”

His voice rose shrilly towardsthe end. “Shhh,” Dan said, hearing a scuffle behind the couch. “They definitelydidn’t recognize you?”

“No,” Kevin whispered, staringat the room more fearfully than Dan thought a pair of six-year-olds warranted.To be fair, she was currently repressing her own panic pretty hard. “They sawme and scattered. Andrew’s barricaded himself in the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Dan said, lookingaround. Even Renee looked incredibly off-balance. She was going to have to keepthis together or it wouldn’t be long before the whole team was in hysterics.“Okay, who here has experience with kids?”

The only thing that could’vemade the following silence more resounding was if crickets had chirped.

“None of you?” Dan said. “Fuck.”She covered her mouth, holding out a hand towards the child behind the couch.“No, don’t listen to me, don’t—”

“Dan, I’m pretty sure Neil hassaid a hell of a lot worse than that—”

“He doesn’t remember thatthough!” Dan rubbed her hand over her short hair, taking a fortifying breath.“Alright, Kevin, call Coach, tell him to get his ass here as fast as possible.”Then maybe she could have a proper meltdown. “Allison, try and look up someonewho might have expertise in this kind of—whatever.Renee, try to lure Andrew out. Matt, you’re with me.”

“Oh, let me help!” Nicky said.“I’m sure I’m great with kids!”

“I think they’re going to need abit more subtlety, Nicky.”

“Come on! Don’t forget Ipractically raised Andrew and Aaron, and they turned out alright!”

The others just stared at him.Nicky deflated a little. “Alright, you may have a point.”

“Just…order food or something.Keep it simple, kids don’t like fancy stuff.”

Nicky nodded, eager to help. Dantook another deep breath, and stepped into the living room.

She tucked herself in beside thecouch, crouching down to seem less frightening. “Hey, there,” she said, andwinced internally at the horrible, cutesy voice coming out of her mouth. Mostof her experience with kids had been her aunt’s squalling baby.

The tiny child huddled behindthe couch stared at her, wide-eyed. Dan didn’t have a good sense of thesethings, but he couldn’t have been much more than four, still round-cheeked andchubby. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re safe. Do you know how you got here?”

Toddler-Neil shrank a little bitfurther. “Where’s my mommy?”

Dan inhaled sharply, her chestsqueezing. “She’s not here right now, but we’re taking care of you right now.My name is Dan, this is Matt.”

“Hi!” Matt said, with a big grinand a wave.

The little boy’s eyes jumped toMatt and he flinched, shrinking behind the back of the couch. “Oh no, Neil,it’s okay,” Matt said hurriedly. “Shh. Shh.”

“I want my mommy,” Neilwhimpered, squeezing into a tight ball.

“I know, sweetie, I know,” Dansaid, gesturing Matt to get back. He backed away, drooping. “Do you wantsomething to drink? Some juice?”

“I want my mommy!”

“She’s going to be here soon,”Dan lied. “Why don’t you come watch TV with us?”

A soft tap came at her shoulder.She looked up, and Nicky held out a glass of milk with a shrug. She acceptedit, turning back to little Neil. “Hey, Nicky got you some milk. Isn’t thatnice?”

Neil’s face screwed up, hischubby cheeks growing redder.

“Oh, no, Neil, shh. It’s okay.”

“My name’s not Neil!”

“Oh,” she said dumbly, glancingaround for help.

“Nathaniel,” Aaron supplied fromwhere he stood behind the kitchen counter. Dan supposed this was all probably prettyshocking to him too, considering his twin was also shrunk, but right now sheneeded to focus on the immediate problem.

“Right. Nathaniel.” Shegrimaced. The memory of Neil’s flinch whenever the name was spoken made hermouth taste foul. “Can I call you Nate?”

Neil’s big bottom lip trembledas he watched her. “Lola calls me Natty.”

“Who’s—” She stopped, spottingMatt’s desperate gesture from the corner of his eye.

He tapped his finger to hischeek. “She’s the one that—”

“Right. Okay. Nate sounds good,right? How old are you, Nate?”

“Four.”

“Wow. You must know a lot ofcool stuff by now. Um.” Fuck. Oh, fuckit had been a long time since she talked to kids. “Do you play Exy?”

Aaron made an exasperated noise,but it was the exact right thing to say. Neil’s whole face lit up, starry eyed.“Exy is the best!”

“It’s totally the best!” sheenthused. “Can I tell you something cool?”

Neil nodded hard, his curlsbobbing and falling into his face.

“We all play on an Exy teamtogether. I’m the team captain!”

“Are you good?” Neil demanded.

“We’re the best.”

“Wow,” Neil said, scootingforward a few inches. “I wanna play, but mommy says I’m too little.”

“You are very little,” Dan saidin a serious tone.

“Am not!” Neil said indignantly.“I’m four.”

“Sorry. I’m sure you’re very bigfor a four-year-old.

Neil scrunched up his face, alittle pouty. “Not little.”

Dan actually smiled at his tinysulk. “Are you hungry?”

Neil picked at the carpet.“Yeah.”

Dan shot an inquiring glanceover at Nicky. “Pizza’s coming in half an hour,” he said.

She turned back to Neil. “Do youlike pizza?”

“I guess.”

“Okay. Is there something you dolike?”

Neil’s shoulders hunchednervously. “Mommy says I should eat whatever she says.”

Dan had to physically restrainthe anger that surged through her. How dare that woman treat Neil—

She was dead, Dan remindedherself. Neil’s mother was dead, and nobody was going to hurt him ever again.

“Well, mommy isn’t here rightnow, so you can eat anything you want.”

Neil’s eyes peeked up at herfrom under his hair. “Anything?”

“Yup.”

He picked at the carpet foranother couple seconds. Finally, he whispered, “Hotdogs.”

“Okay. Hotdogs it is. Nicky, dowe need to do a grocery run?”

Nicky ran to the freezer andflung it open. “Uhhh, so we’ve got burgers—”

“Neil—sorry, Nate wantshotdogs.”

“Okay, I’ll just—” He paused.“So would it be wrong of me to take Andrew’s car, considering the only twodrivers should definitely not have their licenses right now?”

“Nicky,” Dan growled.

“Right! I’m off!”

“And get some toys or somethingwhile you’re out.”

“Got it. Aaron, come with?”

Aaron looked deeplyuncomfortable, but he nodded.

When the door closed behindthem, Dan settled back against the side of the couch, holding her arms out toNeil. “Okay, so we’ll make hotdogs soon. Want to watch TV?”

Neil stared at her for a longmoment, then abruptly threw himself into her arms, latching onto her side likea limpet. Dan scooped him up, cradling his tiny, soft body in her arms andtrying to hold him clear of the milk glass.

“You’re so nice,” Neil murmuredagainst her sweater, squeezing his chubby arms around her neck. He smelledclean, like soap and baby powder, and Dan’s heart melted as she hefted him up.She crooned softly against his head, smoothing his silky curls with one hand asshe got to her feet.

“Oh my god,” Matt breathed, eyeswide. “Oh my god, he’s so cute.”

Dan kept bouncing Neil gently,an involuntary smile on her lips. “Can you check how Renee’s doing?”

Matt stared at her for anotherlong second, looking hypnotized.

“Matt?” she prompted.

“Right,” he said, skirting theroom to give her and Neil lots of space. Dan settled on the couch, rubbingNeil’s back. He nestled into her side, warm and solid.

She could just see the hallwayout of the corner of her eye, so she noticed immediately when Renee and Mattemerged from the bathroom a minute later. Renee had her head ducked down, apainted-on smile on her face, and beside her—

Holy shit.

Andrew was nearly as small asNeil, his hair glowing platinum blond. His hand was firmly wrapped around two ofRenee’s fingers, eyes suspicious as he cast about the room. “You said there wasice cream?” he demanded.

Renee’s smile eased a littleinto something more genuine. “I promised,” she said, tugging him over to thekitchen. Matt hovered in the hallway behind them, staring over at Dan andmouthing, “Oh my god.”

Dan could only nod, mute. Andrewwas so small, so fragile—her arms tightened around Neil protectively. They werechildren for God’s sake. It had neverreally struck her before that either of them had ever been this small—it feltlike they’d manifested directly into hard-eyed young men. How stupid of her—

Neil squeaked in protest,squirming out of her grip. “Sorry,” she said, loosening her arms, but he hadalready forgotten, clambering up the back of the couch to stare over at Reneeand Andrew with wide eyes. He attempted to climb right over the top of thecouch and Dan grabbed him, airlifting him to the floor.

He toddled off quickly, grabbingone of the barstools for support and staring at Andrew. “Your hair looks dumb,”he announced.

Tiny Andrew scowled. “Your facelooks dumb!”

Matt looked like Christmas hadcome early. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket, and grinned over at Dan.She buried her head in her hands, uncontrollable-borderline-hysterical laughterbubbling up in her chest.  

The door swung open, lettingAllison in with a fog of rose-scented perfume. “Alright, I got a hold of somequack PhD at the university who claims to deal with this shit, but he—”

Whatever he said was lost.Allison froze in the middle of the living room, gaping at the scene in thekitchen. “Holy fuck?”

“Allison,” Renee, Dan and Matt said.

“Fuck,” Neil said.

“Neil!” Matt said.

“Fuck!” Andrew said.

“This is a disaster,” Dan said.

Allison sat down in an armchair,looking absolutely floored. Renee pulled a pile of bowls out of the cupboard,portioning out half a dozen scoops of ice cream. Allison blinked, pointing afinger at the two children, then closing her eyes for a long moment. “So, thisPhD assho—”

“Allison,” Dan warned.

Allison glared at her. “This guy says it’s a quantum flux, orsomething, and there’s no telling how long it’ll last. He says it usually wearsoff within a few days, but if it doesn’t, we should take them in for testing athis lab.”

“We’re not taking them into a lab,” Matt said, affronted.

“Well, we can’t just leave themlike this,” Dan said.

“Like what?” Neil asked,sneaking up behind Renee’s leg and poking Andrew in the stomach.

Andrew grabbed Neil’s hair, pullingit hard.

“Owwww,” Neil whined, boltingback to the living room and wrapping his arms around Dan’s knee.

Renee frowned down at Andrew.“That was mean, Andrew,” she said.

“He started it!”

“That doesn’t mean you get to bemean to him. He’s younger than you.”

“He started it,” Andrew sulked.

Renee cast her gaze over thegroup with a pleading expression.

No aid was to be found. Healthychildhoods were in short supply among the Foxes; Dan wasn’t sure if any of them knew a good way to teach akid a moral lesson.

Renee sighed, offering Andrewhis bowl of ice cream. He jumped up, eyes brightening. “You have to promise notto pull Neil’s hair again,” she said severely.

“What if he pulls mine first?”

“Then you’ll tell me, and I’ll dealwith it,” she said.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” Andrew said solemnly.

Neil rubbed his face againstDan’s knee and she bent down, scooping him up. “Do you want some ice creamtoo?” she asked. She was pretty sure they had this all backwards. They weresupposed to give kids dinner before dessert. This had to count as extenuatingcircumstances, though.

“Yeah,” Neil mumbled, peekingover her shoulder towards where Renee was setting the table. Andrew clamberedup into a chair, grasping a spoon in his fist and digging into his ice creamlike he thought someone was going to take it away.

Actually, that was probablyexactly what he thought. Dan rubbed a hand up Neil’s back, as much for her ownsake as his, and carried him over to the table, sitting at the far end. Neiltwisted around but made no move to leave her lap, so she kept her arms in aloose circle around him as Renee put a small bowl of vanilla ice cream in frontof them.

Allison still looked leery ofthe two children, but she took a seat at Renee’s insistent gesture. Matt satnext to her and Renee took the head of the table in what had to be the weirdestteam dinner they’d ever had.

“So, Andrew,” Dan asked, “haveyou ever played Exy?”

“No,” he said, shooting her asullen look.

Well, that was never going towork twice.

“Have you started school yet?”she tried.

“I go to Mrs. C,” he said.

“That’s cool,” she said, as sheknew what that meant. “Do you like her?”

“She smells funny,” he said.“Her books are good. Sometimes she reads to us and it’s really nice.”

“What’s your favourite book?”

“The Giving Tree.”

A round of blinks went betweenthe adults at the table. Renee rallied first, smiling at Andrew. “I really likethat book,” she said. “Why is it your favourite?”

“It’s kind of sad but alsohappy. And Mrs. C always does weird voices.”

“I like The Paper Bag Princess,”Neil announced.

Andrew made a face at him.“That’s a girl’s book.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Books can be for boys andgirls,” Matt said.

“What’s the Paper Bag Princessabout?” Renee asked, distracting Andrew by scooping a little extra ice creaminto his bowl.

Neil launched into a longexplanation of the story which left the Foxes more confused than when they’dstarted. His ice cream melted into a puddle of sugary soup and he didn’t arguewhen Andrew stole it and noisily slurped it down.

A hammering at the door madethem all jump. “It’s unlocked,” Matt called, and Wymack breezed in with Kevinon his heels.

He stopped in the doorway,surveying the scene. “Oh,” he said dumbly. “So Kevin wasn’t drunk.”

Kevin looked affronted. “Youthink I would joke—”

“I think if you’d coached theFoxes as long as I have, you’d have some trust issues, too,” Wymack said.

Neil squirmed on Dan’s lap,wriggling up so he could flatten himself against her body. His eyes were gluedto Wymack, wide and fearful.

“Uh, Coach,” Dan said, wincing.“Volume.”

“What?” Wymack said, then hiseyes dropped to Neil and understanding dawned. “Right,” he said, more softly.“I’m just going to call Abby. She’ll know what to do.” Which was very plainlydeflecting, and Dan wondered why she’d thought Wymack would be any help in thisat all. He was well-meaning, but he could be terribly conventional in his totalinability to deal with children.

She watched him flee into thehallway with something like resignation. Kevin approached the table tentatively,looking nearly as uncomfortable as Allison. “Hello,” he said, awkward andformal. “My name is Kevin.”

Dan steeled herself, knowingexactly what she needed to say next and hating herself for it. “He’s thegreatest Exy player of all time,” she told Neil.

His eyes lit up, but it wasAndrew who spoke up first.

“Mrs. C says tattoos are for badpeople which means you’re probably a really, really bad person because you havea tattoo on your face.”

There was a beat of silence,then Allison snorted. “Yeah, tell him, Andrew.”

Andrew shot her a suspiciouslook, but turned back to Kevin. “If you’re a bad person then Renee will hurtyou,” he said. “She’s really good at fighting. She said so.”

“Wow, Renee,” Allison said. “Whoeverknew you’d be so good with kids?”

Renee shot her a glare. “I don’tsee you doing any better,” she hissed.

Allison snickered, her pleasureat Kevin’s discomfort overriding her own awkwardness around the kids.

Nicky and Aaron chose thatmoment to arrive, a pair of grocery bags over Aaron’s wrist and a giant boxdwarfing Nicky. “I bought Lego!” Nicky sang, his face smushed and hidden behindthe giant box.

“Christ, Nicky,” Dan said. “Howmuch Lego did you buy?”

“It was on sale!”

“It’s not like—” Dan checkedherself, glancing at Andrew, who was still scowling at Kevin ratherimpressively. She sort of hoped thiswouldn’t last long, but she wasn’t going to say that out loud, not when Andrewand Neil had no memory of what had happened and abandonment issues ten mileshigh.

“Don’t look at me,” Aarongrumbled. “You think I have any control over him?” He dumped the bags of foodon the counter and regarded his twin brother. As if sensing his gaze, Andrewturned his head and stared at him.

“I got you something,” Aaronsaid, gruff, and dug a small stuffed cat out of the grocery bag.

He shoved it towards Andrew,dangling it by the neck. It swayed there, splotched in brown and white, itswhiskers drooping and bent from being shoved in the grocery bag. Andrewcontinued to stare at Aaron, eyes wary.

Aaron sighed and dropped the catinto Andrew’s lap, retreating into the kitchen. “We got hotdogs and we pickedup some more ice cream,” he said to the room at large.

“Thanks, Aaron,” Renee said, pushingher chair back and joining him. Pots and pans clattered as they set to cooking.

Nicky wobbled and finallytoppled, landing on his ass with a crash. The colourful box in his arms tippedover, rattling like a ball pit in an earthquake. “Ow,” he said woefully,rubbing his elbow and extricating himself from under the box.

“Do you want to play Legos?” Danasked, looking down at Neil. He’d already forgotten all about Kevin.

“What’s Legos?” Neil asked

“Oh man,” Matt said. “Legos arethe greatest. You can build anything!”

“Yeah?” Neil said, twisting hishand in Dan’s sweater and turning his big blue eyes on Matt. Dan couldpractically see Matt turning to goo at the sight.

“Totally! Do you want to try?”

Neil’s hand pinched Dan’s stomachas he twisted, nervous. She bit back a grimace, hefting Neil in her arms to tryand loosen his grip. “Matt’s very good at Legos,” she said, having never seenhim play with Legos before in her life. “And you can have a hotdog after.”

“Okay,” Neil said, voice small.

It wasn’t enthusiasm, but shecould work with that. “How about you, Andrew?”

Andrew looked up from his lap,jumping. “What?”

She caught a peek of the stuffedcat in his lap disappearing under his shirt and wisely said nothing. “Do youwant to play Legos with Nei—Nate?”

“No,” Andrew said.

“Okay,” Dan said. “Come on,Nate, let’s get the Lego set up.”

She lifted him off her lap andplaced him on the ground. He latched onto her leg immediately, giggling whenshe tried to take a step. “Hey,” she said, looking down at him.

He giggled again and wrapped hislegs around her ankle like a koala. She huffed and swung her foot through, hisweight like a tiny boulder on the end of her leg. “I’m going to need achiropractor after this,” she muttered as she heaved Neil into the living room.Matt snorted.

“Alright,” she said when they reached the Legobox. “You have to let go now.”

Neil’s hands just tightened,pinching her muscles uncomfortably. “Hey, buddy, we can’t play Legos with youattached to my leg.”

“You’re going to play too?” heasked, peeking up at her.

Oh. There were the abandonmentissues again. “Yeah, definitely,” she said.

Neil slowly let go, creepingforward towards the box. Nicky had already wrested the top open with a pair ofscissors, and was pulling the plastic packaging off of a giant bin of looseLego pieces. Dan gestured to Matt to sit, and he squashed down immediately, bigand gangly on the floor.

Dan grabbed the paperinstruction manual and folded her legs to sit next to Neil. “Hey, look, we canmake a race car. Isn’t that cool?”

Neil stared at the pictures andpointed at one of the others. “Rocket ship!”

“What do you think, Matt? Can wemake a rocket ship?”

“I dunno,” Matt said, toneserious but eyes dancing. “It looks pretty complicated. But if Nate’s helpingus, I bet we could do it.”

Dan smiled at him over Neil’shead and his lips quirked up at her, lopsided and sweet.

“We need orange bits for thefire,” Neil said, studying the picture intently.

“Okay,” Matt said. “Can you helpme find some?”

Dan leaned back on her hands,watching as Matt and Neil dug through the bin of Lego together. Nicky hoveredfor another second, hands wringing and eyes wide and adoring, then he met hereye and fled to the kitchen to help with the hot dogs.

Dan’s breath left her in a slowexhale. This was probably going to interfere with their season, she thoughtidly. They had a game tomorrow night, and the freshmen were definitely notready to cover for Andrew and Neil. They’d manage, though. They always did. Shewatched as Neil unfurled, his fearfulness evaporating in the face of Matt’sunwavering warmth, and felt settled, like a cat curling up in a sunbeam.

Pizza arrived almost exactly thesame moment as the hotdogs were ready, and chaos broke loose as the Foxesscrambled to make sure Andrew and Neil both got whatever they wanted. Neil gotketchup all over his shirt—she was about 90% sure that was actually one of hisreal shirts, shrunk down with him—and Andrew made lofty comments about howmessy and dumb he was until Nicky smudged pizza sauce on his nose, making himshriek.

Neil grabbed Dan’s hand andtugged her back towards the Lego. She bit back a groan of exhaustion. “Howabout you play with Matt for a bit? I’ll be right here.”

“But we’re not done the rocketship!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m notyoung like you. I’m very old and slow.”

She made a show of hunching herback and creaking her way towards the couch and Neil giggled in delight, hunchinghis shoulders and tottering after her.

“Come on, squirt,” Matt said,holding out his hand. “Let’s finish that rocket ship.”

“You’re making a rocket ship?”Andrew asked.

“Yep,” Matt said. “Wanna join?”

“I don’t want him to play withus,” Neil said, stomping his foot. “He’s a meanie!”

Andrew’s face screwed up. “WellI don’t want to make a dumb rocket ship anyway!”

“Guys, guys, shhh,” Matt saidfrantically. “Neil, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I’m not Neil!”

“Sorry, Nate, buddy—”

“He’s mean!”

“And now you’re being mean.”

Neil stopped, staring up atMatt. “No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Now, how aboutyou say sorry for being mean to Andrew, and then he’ll say sorry to you. Andthen we can all build the rocket ship.”

“I’m not saying sorry,” Andrewsulked.

“Andrew,” Nicky said. “That’sbad manners.”

Andrew kicked his foot againstthe ground, and he hugged the stuffed cat against his stomach almost angrily.“Sorry,” he muttered, unconvincingly.

Nicky looked stunned that his reprimandhad worked. Dan couldn’t help but feel the same way. Andrew didn’t apologizefor anything.

Neil scowled at the carpet.

“Nate,” Matt said. “It’s yourturn.”

“He was mean first,” Neilmuttered.

“He said sorry.”

“Fine.” Neil scrunched up hisface, glaring at Andrew. “I’m sorry,” he said, in what had to be the leastapologetic voice Dan had ever heard.

Matt covered his eyes, his lipscurling with repressed laughter. Dan retreated to where Renee and Allison saton the couch, watching as Nicky and Matt tried to wrangle the two boys towardsthe Lego pile.

Aaron hovered beside the couch,watching with a frown creasing his forehead. Dan tapped her finger against herthigh, looking up at him. “It’s probably not permanent,” she reminded him.“They’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

“You don’t know that for sure,”Aaron said. “What if—”

He cut off, his nostrilsflaring, the whites of his eyes flickering in the light.

“We’ll deal with that if itcomes to it,” she said. Aaron shoved his hands in his pockets, his expressionpinched. He didn’t look reassured.

Dan glanced back at the kidsplaying in the Lego, unsure how to comfort him. Neil had just knocked overMatt’s rocket ship; it looked like he was trying to build his own now.

“Daaaan,” Matt whined. “Nate isbullying me.”

“Am not!” Neil said. “Matt isjust dumb!”

Andrew pulled the top off of thetower Nicky was building and pulled out all the red pieces, piling them to theside. Nicky pouted, trying to steal one of Andrew’s red pieces and nearlygetting his hand bitten for his trouble. Andrew added the red pieces to a smallsquare wall and carefully placed his stuffed cat inside.

“He really seems to like thatstuffie,” she said.

“Yeah,” Aaron said.

They watched the kids’ anticsfor another couple seconds before Aaron sank into the beanbag chair next to thecouch, chewing on his thumbnail. “I had one like that when I was little,” hesaid. “I brought it everywhere.”

“Huh,” Dan said. “Wow.”

Neil only lasted another twentyminutes before he started drooping, covering yawns with his hands. He crawledout of the pile of Legos he’d accumulated and toddled over to Dan, burying hisface in her knee.

“Hey, buddy,” she said,smoothing her hand through his hair. “Ready for bed?”

“No,” he said petulantly, butlet her lift him up and cuddle him against her chest.

“I don’t suppose anyone has apyjama shirt that would fit him?” Dan asked, not hopeful.

“I picked some up at Walmart,”Aaron said. “They’re on the counter.”

“Oh,” Dan said. “Thanks. How’sthat sound, Nate? Want to check out your new pyjamas?”

He nodded, his face smushed intoher collarbone. “Okay,” she said, hauling herself off the couch with a grunt.She transferred Neil to her right arm, propping him on her hip so she could up-endthe bag onto the counter. “Dinosaurs or cats?”

“Dinosaws,” Neil mumbled.

“Awesome,” she said, grabbingthe matching t-shirt and pants

“Want mommy.”

“I know,” Dan said, hefting himup a little higher. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

“Not tired.”

“Sure,” she said. “Whatever yousay.”

She carried him into thebathroom, grimacing at the state of it. Boys.Two of the three towels hanging up looked like they hadn’t been washed inmonths; they smelled it, too. The sink was crusted in grime and powderytoothpaste residue, and the counter was littered in nail clippings and stubblyhairs.

Dan lowered Neil to the bathmat, holding out the pyjama shirt. He raised his arms expectantly.

“I’m not dressing you,” shesaid. “You gotta help me here.”

“Mommy always does,” Neilsulked.

Dan pursed her lips. “Can youpull your shirt off? I’ve got your new one ready.”

Neil squirmed, wrestling withhis t-shirt like a fish in the grasp of an octopus. He got one arm out of hissleeve but got stuck, and Dan had to pull on his other sleeve to get him out.She held the pyjama shirt out and he wriggled into it. Backwards, but Danwasn’t about to get particular.

She hesitated at his pants. Wasthis weird? Neil was her teammate.She shouldn’t be seeing him naked. This was just—

She shoved the thoughts aside;Neil was four, and she was going to be professional about this, damnit. Shetugged on his waistband and he obliged, pushing his pants down with theunselfconsciousness of childhood. She stripped them off his feet quickly andhelped him step into the pyjama bottoms, turning her head partially away. It was weird, but only because everythingabout today was weird.

He latched onto her hand once hewas dressed and she stood, knees popping from kneeling on the tile floor. “Bedtime?” she asked.

“Okay,” Neil said, leaningagainst her knee for a moment. She tugged and he followed her into the hallway.

“Hey, Kevin,” she said, tiltingher head towards the bedroom. “Which bed can Nate use?”

Kevin hurried up from thekitchen table, squirreling a small bottle of something into his pocket. Dangave him a hard look, which he avoided, ducking past them into the bedroom.

It was slightly less gross thanthe bathroom, though there was still a fugue of musty laundry smell over theroom. “Neil’s bed is the loft,” Kevin said, kicking a pair of dirty boxersunder the bed.

“Gross,” Dan said, side-eyeinghim. Kevin at least had the good grace to look a little ashamed of himself.“Which one’s yours?”

Kevin frowned in confusion, butpointed across the room at the single bunk. “Alright,” Dan said, giving him upas a lost cause and leading Neil over to what she presumed was Andrew’s bed,beneath Neil’s. She wasn’t putting a toddler in a loft.

Neil clambered up clumsily,hanging onto Dan with one hand. She let herself be drawn down, ducking her headto sit on the bottom bunk with him. The sheets, at least, were blessedly clean.

Neil burrowed down into theblankets, the tufts of his curls spilling out over the pillow. His eyes blinkedup at her, sleep-heavy but worried.

“Hey, buddy,” she said softly,smoothing his hair with one hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Neil mumbled, but shewasn’t fooled. His grip on her fingers hadn’t loosened yet.

“Um,” she said, casting aroundfor inspiration. Kevin stood in the doorway, hugging himself anxiously. “Do youwant me to sing?”

Neil scooted a little closer toher. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” She paused. Singingwasn’t really her thing. “Okay.”

She took a deep breath andstarted to sing, voice low and quiet. Neil scrunched down into the bunk,staring up at her with half-lidded eyes.

Amazing grace

How sweet the sound…

She kept singing even as Neil’seyes slipped closed, his face pushed into the pillow. His grip slowly went laxuntil finally she was able to gently tuck his hand under the blanket and easeup off the mattress.

Kevin still stood in thedoorway, and Dan jerked her head towards the living room. She closed the doorpartway and padded softly into the main room, where Nicky was arguing Andrewinto a pair of footie pyjamas with little cat ears on the hood. Dan droppedonto the couch with a groan, resting her head against Renee’s shoulder. Reneewrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back.

“Couldn’t we just have one quietyear?” Dan asked. “One year where we can just relax and focus on Exy?”

“At least it’s not the mafiathis time,” Allison said. “Just space-time itself fucking with us. You know,normal shit.”

Andrew perked up from across theroom, like he had some kind of weird swear-word radar. “She said a bad word,”he said.

“Stop eavesdropping,” Allisonsaid. “It’s rude.”

Andrew glared back from underhis cat hood. “You said fuck.”

“Ooookay there, Andrew,” Nickysaid, reaching his hands out and redirecting Andrew’s attention. “Don’t listento Allison, she wasn’t raised right. We were getting ready for bed?”

Andrew frowned petulantly.“Shit,” he muttered, kicking the carpet.

Nicky shot Allison a glare. “Youare a terrible influence,” he said.

“I’m not tired,” Andrew said.

“Um,” Nicky said. “Right. So…”

“We can watch TV for a bit,” Dansuggested. That had always put her to sleep as a kid.

“Good idea,” Nicky said. “HeyAndrew, how about you take one of the bean bag chairs? Which one do you want?”

“Red one,” Andrew said, claimingit immediately and curling up like the cat he was dressed as. Nicky disappearedinto the hallway and came back with an orange and white Palmetto Foxes blanket,draping it over Andrew and the bean bag. He scrunched up, pulling the blanketaround him like a protective cocoon.

Despite his insistence that hewasn’t tired, he was out like a light by the time they had even picked achannel. They settled on Discovery, just in case he woke up again.

Nicky watched Andrew snufflesoftly in his sleep, his tiny body rising and falling with his breaths. “Shouldwe move him?” he asked, uncertain.

“He’s probably fine there,” Dansaid. “I think—” She rubbed her eyes, groaning a little with tiredness. “Ugh.We should’ve put them in our room, Kevin’s useless.”

“Hey,” Kevin said, offended.

“When was the last time youvacuumed?” she snapped. “This place is a dump.”

Kevin’s ears went red. “We’rebusy,” he said.

“You’ve got the same schedule aseveryone else, and we don’t live like this,” Dan said. “I would have expectedthis from Neil—he’s basically a wild animal—but I expected better from you.”

Kevin muttered somethingindistinct, though Dan caught the words “cleaning staff” and “night practices.”Somehow, it wasn’t a surprise that the Nest didn’t expect its athletes to cleanup after themselves.

Dan sighed. “I’ll stay on thecouch. If this goes on any longer, we’ll move them over Abby’s house. Everybodymight as well head to bed, we’ve got a game tomorrow—”

A slight creak of a doorinterrupted her. She looked up in time to spot Neil sneak into the hallway, handstwisted into his pyjama shirt.

“Hey, buddy,” Matt said. “Youokay?”

“It’s dark,” Neil mumbled.

“Oh, sorry, Nate,” Dan said,hauling herself off the couch. “Do you want me to turn on the light?”

Neil fidgeted. “Can I stay outhere?”

Dan softened, looking at hiswide, staring eyes as he hovered in the hall. “Of course, sweetie. Andrew’ssleeping out here too.”

Neil’s eyes swept over the groupof adults before he crept out of the hallway and over to Dan, leaning againsther knee. She rubbed a hand over his hair. “That’s okay,” she murmured. “Shh.Shh.”

“The scary noises always comeout when it’s dark,” Neil said, voice muffled against her jeans.

“It’s okay, Nate. You’re safe.Shh.”

Neil reached his arms up and shepicked him up, cradling him against her chest. His arms wrapped around herneck, squeezing. She kept shushing into his hair, bouncing him gently andlowering herself to a seated position next to the other bean bag chair. Neilshifted, pulling out of her arms and lying down right next to Andrew on the redbean bag.

Andrew’s eyes squinted blearily,mumbling some kind of protest. Neil ignored him, squirming under the blanketand cuddling up against Andrew. Andrew made a soft, grumbly noise, beforesettling back down, Neil’s head pillowed on his hand.

“Oh my god,” Nicky whispered.“Can we keep them?”

“Nicky,” Dan said wearily,tugging him away from the sleepy children. The Foxes followed like a hive mind,congregating in the kitchen.  

“What? Everyone’s thinking it,I’m just saying it.”

“They are nicer this way,”Allison remarked. “And there’s some pretty cute kids fashion out there. I couldteach Neil to dress properly from the ground up.”

“Not you too,” Dan grumbled.

“Our season is doomed withoutthem,” Kevin said. “We have to do something—”

“This isn’t about Exy,” Dan said. “This is about gettingour friends back.”

Everyone paused. “Andrew’s notyour friend,” Aaron added helpfully.

“Thank you,” Dan said. “Come on,Matt, back me up.”

“I dunno…”

“Neil’s your best fuckingfriend. Don’t pretend you don’t want him back.”

“He is pretty cute though.” Hewrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on top of herhead. “Face it, we’d make great parents. You’re a natural.”

“Oh god no,” she said. “I am notgoing there with you today.”

“Aw, babe—”

A resounding pop startled her out of Matt’s arms. Hereyes shot over to check if the noise had woken Neil and Andrew.

Neil stared back at her, scarredcheeks sleep-smudged and sharp. The blanket she’d draped over him was tangledaround his legs, and then Andrew’s fist lashed out, catching a glancing blow tohis ribs.

Neil scrambled away, scanningthe room with wary eyes. The dinosaur pyjamas were weirdly warped and stretchedover his adult frame, mottled purple and blue. Andrew kicked the blanket offhis legs, rolling to his feet and glaring bloody murder. It was only slightlymitigated by the fact he was now wearing a giant cat onesie.

Neil looked down at his clothes.He looked across to the pile of Legos. He looked up at the rest of the Foxes,huddled in the kitchen.

“What the fuck?” he demanded.

Matt’s face melted into a grininstantly. “Oh man,” he said, already pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Youare never going to believe this one.”

[catherinekaida-blog]

30 odd facts about beeb boop

give or take a few! here we go

Catherine Kaida was born June 13th in Brentwood Heights, Los Angeles, California, United States. 

This means she is a Gemini, and it does not mean she places stock in zodiac stuff, which she thinks is a whole lot of nonsense. She’s also an ESTJ, 4w5, and Choleric.

She doesn’t place much stock in unsubstantiated superstition in general. Supernatural matters are an entirely different issue, and Catherine believes wholeheartedly in matters of the unexplained and is very interested in what they are capable of.

Her family consists of her father Rei and one older sister, Marianne. Rei is the CEO of Astrova Inc., a famous robotics corporation and he is also known as being a former SHSL Robot Combatant. He is a fairly big deal in the United States, and Catherine is employed at Astrova as well. 

Marianne deserves her own fact. She is Catherine's older sister by one year, and she has... well, an interesting relationship with her sibling, I'll just say that. As of now, she is a quite successful Hollywood actress.

She is mixed, half-Japanese on her father's side and (mostly) half-Norwegian on her mother's.

Catherine is a transhumeral, transtibial amputee, which means that her arm below the elbow and leg below the knee are both missing, with prosthesis in their place. This is absolutely no secret, and she has been fairly open about her life as a double amputee and has spoken about disability rights and accessibility in the workplace. 

She delivered a TED talk about accessibility in the workplace and the role of robotics in ensuring a better future for humanity. It mostly serves as educational material for individuals in robotics and as a gotcha for debates on transhumanism by self-aggrandizing individuals on internet forums.

Catherine has quite the social media presence, and has a few million followers on Twitter where she posts about her latest projects and contributions to engineering. 

She has a bachelor’s/master’s degree in mechanical engineering and is currently working on a PhD. This was achieved with a touch of nepotism as her father was a benefactor of the university she addended, the California Institute of Technology. 

She has a great fondness for animals, and her family has owned several Borzois in particular. She owns two, Nikola and Babbage, who live on her estate, also currently in Los Angeles. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, it seems.

In terms of favourite animals, she loves hawks, magpies, cephalopods, and canids, of course. Fish are also faves - she loved going out into nature as a child and to this date believes studying animal movement is important for engineers. Catherine was especially fascinated by octopi, and loved to witness them on one of her family’s many trips to aquariums when she was young. 

Despite her current image, she was quite the wild child. Catherine took the entire “be assertive” thing too far and would talk back and speak her mind whenever she had the chance - partially because she hated being condescended and partially because she wanted to establish respect for herself. 

Cath was one of those people ahead of the curve even as a child (never mind that her parents shelled out for the best education possible), so her advanced knowledge for her age caused people to view her as a novelty. She really hates receiving this sort of treatment and still does, but chilled out considerably as she aged.

I actually have a voiceclaim for her! Amber Grey as Persephone in Hadestown. 

She cannot sing nearly as well as the above fact may imply. Because of her family’s strong acting tradition both Kaida siblings were sent to theatre courses, but Marianne was far better at it than Catherine, ho was disposed to overacting to the point she chewed the scenery up thoroughly whenever she was on-stage in the hammiest way imaginable. Thing was, she took this entirely seriously and believed she was doing an amazing job. This still carries over to her present personality. Subtlety, she knows not.

Her dream role is Javert from Les Miserables, who she auditioned for once at a school play.

She got the role of Eponine instead because the school gave top roles based solely on how popular the student was and how prominent their families were. This wound up with her playing the role exactly as she would have done Javert, which would become one of her greatest embarrassments. There exist recordings of young, red faced Catherine Kaida belting out “On My Own” with all the subtlety of a JCB in her family’s archives.

She absolutely adores tokusatsu. It was her primary interest growing up, and she still has an incredibly soft spot for it - Kamen Rider, Cyborg 009, Godzilla... all subgenres appeal to her, but she especially loves super sentai shows. 

She prefers savory/umami food and absolutely adores Japanese cuisine - on the chances when she was able to visit her extended family in their home country, one of the things she’d look forward to most would be their cooking. She’s especially fond of noodle dishes and tempura. 

As if it wasn’t already obvious, she’s painfully rich. Catherine’s... marginally better about being charitable than her parents and has donated a large potion of her income to charity, but she still thinks that $99 gold ice cream is a worthwhile investment. Please stop her. 

She doesn’t listen to music that often but does have a collection of old movie soundtracks - she prefers podcasts or news reports when she’s going about her routine. 

Catherine’s fashion sense tends towards vintage chic (1930s-1940s especially), and she’s very fond of 1940s noir style, thus her outfit. Most of her clothes are custom made (partially for accessibility, partially because she has Very High Standards), but she does like to source the odd actual vintage piece. Usually, these are just worn on special occasion.

Catherine’s hair is dyed, and its natural colour is a reddish-brown shade. She gets it done professionally because she always ends up making a mess if she attempts to do it herself, and she wears the hat in part to cover up her roots when they start to show. 

She’s also very fond of wearing cosmetics - vintage chic just like her fashion sense - and at minimum puts on BB cream and contour when going out. More extravagant looks are not uncommon, however. 

Catherine in her personal life has a reputation for coming off as intense - she’s clearly extremely passionate and knowledgable about her job, but this comes at the expense of human relations. Those who talk to her remark that she deserves much of the credit she’s given, but that comes off as surprisingly brusque and no-nonsense. This doesn’t come through in her professional life as much because interactions there are typically rehearsed, but it’s known to be notoriously difficult to get close to her.

It’s also notoriously difficult to center interviews around anything regarding her personal life. Those that know her would glean the basis - where she was born, her family, the fact that her mother passed away some-odd years ago under mysterious circumstances, but attempts to push deep into her personal life are all for naught and she gets very irritated if people try.

Catherine can be very, very single-minded, as can be clearly shown during several events in her backstory. What are they? Well, time will tell. 

As much as her public image may imply otherwise she’s a bit of a bleeding heart and cares for people more than her exterior gives away. She’s just very, very bad at showing it. Will she ever get over her reservations? Time will also tell. 

Her greatest wish is for understanding. What sort? Who knows with her!

[asraspeaks-blog]

Maintaining boundaries: Part two

Part one dealt with a woman named, J. This post is focused on another woman, N.

Again, trauma manifests in a lot of different ways and her way may be to ask the same questions ad nauseam.

N is convinced her STBX is hiding money. All of us agree he probably is hiding cash, but the main legal issue is proof. Proof can be in the form of documentation. N knows this, yet continues to needle us with the same questions about mystery overseas money. She also doesn't have proof.

But my issue with N is her nasty behavior towards me. I get trauma. I also get jealousy, but I'm not part of her circus. I have my own issues to deal with and cannot keep answering her nonsensical circular questions.

She continued to pester me (and other members of the group) despite the fact we all told her we don't have the answers she's looking for or she wants. She only wants people to say what she wants to hear. Again, not my circus.

The last series of texts she sent me involved a friend of mine she had already spoken to. Same questions. I had to remind her that I don't actually have intimate knowledge of my friend's financial situation.

She then kept insisting I was triggered by her questions because I "lost everything." Ummm...nope. Actually, I got myself and my kids the fuck out of his spiral of crazy. Her questions suggested that I was too stupid to fight for my money and hence the lawyer convinced to let it all go. Again, nope. I was presented with two scenarios. Fighting for money would keep us trapped for upwards of three years. Hell no. I took what I could get grabbed my kids.

She's also made comments about my home subtlety suggesting I might have OCD cause my home is clean. This was a jealously dig. She lives with her brother and his wife and they have made it clear they want her to move on. She used to live with her mother, but they get into a fight that resulted in police intervention. Hence, N and her child live with her brother.

N has a PhD in psychology and may have worked as a therapist overseas. My interactions with her were uncomfortable. I tried being friends (Muslim women, same community, etc), but her condescending behavior was too much so I backed away. Her way of speaking is rude and forced. I wonder if she behaved this way with patients.

N's issue isn't child custody. It's always revolved around mystery money her ex is hiding all over the world. It's become obvious to many of us in the DV group that she's using her son as a pawn to get more money out her ex. Always a bad idea. A judge will shred her to pieces and the particular judge she has (I also had him) is an asshole. Several women in the DV group have made it clear he tends to favor the father.

N has been fighting for mystery money for six years. She's so stressed, she's picked all the hair off the top of her head.

While I feel empathy for her, I feel for her child (he's also on the spectrum). That poor kid is being dragged through court psychologist after court psychologist. According to N, she has him enrolled in 40 hours/week therapy.

I had to back away completely. We're both in the same DV group, but no more hanging out, phone calls, or texts.

[sovinly]

Notes on ‘the mist that cloaks the river, the clouds that hide the stars’

So, rather than crowding my fic notes with extraneous information, I decided to make a tumblr post about it!

I tried to have grounded characterization, and I’d like to think I can back up all of my choices. I don’t suspect it’ll work for everyone, but honestly, the show was very, very giving and consistent in its portrayals and subtleties. (Did it take me nearly 60k to make one of the connections/revelations about why some particular scenes were included in the show? YUP, 100%.)

I also did, um, quite a bit of research for this fic. I may have had over 100 tabs of references and research materials open, so, I guess, good job for making me learn things, fic.

When coming up with names for the various background characters who didn’t get them, I used as many resources as I could to try to make sure they were plausible. And then googled them to make sure I didn’t do anything like, say, accidentally name someone after a pop star (don’t worry, I fixed it). Since I decided not to include notes in every single chapter, I didn’t post name meanings or character breakdowns, but I do have many notes if anyone wants/is curious about them!

The Northern and Southern Dynasties period is a really fascinating one, despite the relatively chaotic shifts in power. Da Liang loosely references the Southern Liang dynasty, but a lot of the aesthetic and cultural references include Han Dynasty touchstones. It does make it a little messy in terms of placing things, but I think the show presents a pretty cohesive alternate fantasy history, so I think it’s pretty forgiving as long as you’re consistent.

Apparently this period had some massively conflicting impulses in Confucian dictates in music and poetry (social mores! morality! ethics!) and a more Taoist line of thought that called for harmony in poetry and music (also nature) as a way to balance human emotion. This was alongside MOTHER FUCKIN' POP MUSIC and DECADENT POETRY (I use the former term a little loosely, but you get my point), as well as the slow influx of musical instruments from western China to the plains area, but basically all the scholars and writers had Strong Opinions about this and it's GREAT. There are two whole PhD dissertations on Southern Dynasty music theory and they’re both behind paywalls (rude), but it’s a fascinating subject and definitely adds depth to Yujin being so deeply involved with music.

Also, building further on that! Yujin is explicitly familiar with Guang Ling San, the music score that Mei Changsu supposedly “found.” Guang Ling San was the masterpiece work of Ji Kang, which he played before his execution. Ji Kang was Three Kingdoms era composer as well as a Taoist philosopher and alchemist who favored these scholarly pursuits over a government position and was heavily critical of Confucian policies (hence that whole… execution thing). Marquis Yan’s withdrawal into philosophy is not unprecedented and I don’t think this was a direct parallel, but it is interesting all the same for the similarities between them.

I’m not going to try to go too much into the clothing stylings in the show, other than to say that they’re very intentional and well-done. They’re definitely updated a bit for modern audiences, though as far as I’ve read, they’re very attentive to Han dynasty color theory and rules/expectations for uses of material and decoration, including the embroidery patterns. It does omit a loooot of Northern and Southern Dynasties styling, including the swallowtail edging. Unfortunately, I had to avoid too much discussion of clothing simply because a lot of the benchmark visual references I might use for our erstwhile protagonist are blurry or brief (this show is Very Uninterested in young noblewomen as a whole, which is part of what prompted this fic in the first place). Nihuang and Xia Dong’s stylings are excellent but also very intentionally masculine, so they’re of relatively little help. I do have some thoughts on the subject, but since it’s speculative, I opted not to dive too deeply into precisely how Yujin negotiates perceptions and gender expectations via clothing.

Moving deeper into the philosophy corner, however, I did want to talk a little bit about the running themes and metaphors I used. The water imagery thread specifically is an interesting one. Yujin’s name includes a water-related character, for one. Da Liang, taking its cues from the Han dynasty, uses black Imperial robes, symbolizing the dominance of water. I thought it would be more appropriate to not use imagery of earth or fire to symbolize the forces opposing the emperor, but the same element of the dynasty – Prince Jing’s cohort embodies the same force as the country, after all, but it’s a force redirected. But water, philosophically, is an element of stillness or conservation (also associated with yin, as are women), which might seem a little strange considering how… moving and energetic Yujin is? But I’m using water imagery as more of a touchstone throughout – juxtaposing unstill water with overwhelming emotions for that tension, deep and still water with deadly and quiet things. The fear/anxiety and calmness dichotomy is also relevant, as is the way that water relates/interacts with earth throughout. I think it suits, though, considering that much of Yujin’s internal energy is used to deflect and hide.

Anyway, I guess, to conclude this, I hope that it’s clear that I wanted to engage with some of the people that canon looks away from. As much as I genuinely, deeply love what canon does and has to say about a lot of things – morally, ethically, philosophically – a lot of women got shafted by the narrative. There’s a lot of fridges for the 500s. So I wanted to write some of them back in, and to examine possibilities of their influence by presence or absence. And I didn’t want it to be a litany of “bah history was BAD AT WOMEN,” so I’ve tried really hard to dig into some of the options that women did have, while also being honest about constraints and expectations. The Southern Dynasties were, generally speaking, more restrictive and conservative on the subject of women than the Northern Dynasties, but that doesn’t mean that these women didn’t have lives and do things. There’s a lot of complaining by stuffy dudes about how engaged women are in the social scenes, so, y’know. Suck it, dudes.

Women did have options! Aristocratic women especially were expected to have some level of education, even if mostly to handle household affairs and teach their children. Hairong’s narrative in particular draws a lot on the historical rise of Buddhist convents and monasteries in China during this time period. There were conflicts, of course, and some really interesting stuff has been written on how these monasteries were both supported by Southern Dynasty governments while there was a lot of careful social navigating around traditional Confucian expectations of filial obligations. But, historically, there was certainly a tradition of aristocratic women entering religious orders at the time, and these nuns seem to have been generally respected and considered proper: a number of them taught, lectured, and even served in courts.

As with every place and period, a lot depended on context. Social position, systems of privilege and advantage, and personal negotiation of expectations had a lot to do with what options were open to people at the time. I don’t know, I tried to be really thoughtful about this, and I hope that at least is clear!

(More notes, at an anon’s request)

[inkoutsidethelines]

PSAS OC Introduction: Dr. James Tate aka “The First James” aka that guy Star named JJ after

I’m far enough into PSAS at this point that I feel more comfortable talking about The First James without worrying about revealing things I didn’t want to yet.  So if you’re interested, here’s some info about James.

James was a genius and scientist, one that SHIELD was considering for recruitment, and that’s what brought him to Hydra’s attention.  Hydra decided he’d be  useful working on Project Stars and Stripes, and decided to recruit him.  Hydra quickly figured out that James wasn’t the sort of person who would willingly work for them, so they pulled out their “benefit package”.  Meaning they kidnapped his parents.  The threat against his parents worked, and James began working with Hydra.

While it was Dr. Miller who pioneered the techniques used for the cloning process, it was James that invented the technologies that allowed the cloning to be possible, as well as the tech that let Hydra age up the clones.  Without him, Hydra probably wouldn’t have figured out the tech to do that before the events of the Winter Soldier movies where everything fell apart (meaning the clones would never have existed).

Obviously James never wanted to work with Hydra in the first place, but with the successful creation of Star, things got more complicated for him.  He hated watching what was done to her, and he did what he could to mitigate what she was put through, but he also had his parents’ safety to think about.  That’s why it took him a year to finally decide to try and rescue Star, knowing that it would likely cost his parents their lives.

He came up with a plan to get Star away, but unfortunately subtlety/lying was never a strong suit for him, especially not when surrounded by trained agents/spies.  James was caught before he could even make a proper attempt at his plan.  His current fate is unknown, but it is presumed that Hydra killed him for his attempted betrayal.

Various Facts:

Got into an elite private school on scholarship because of his smarts

Because of his genius level intellect, he had his PHd by age 22

Was president of his university’s chess club

Liked cats

Drank way too much coffee

Had zero athletic ability

Was a fan of both Tony Stark and Bruce Banner and read any and every paper they put out

Was actually working on an application for a job with Stark Industries before Hydra “recruited” him

During his school years James consistently worked as a part time tutor, because he loved learning and thought everyone deserved a chance to learn stuff too

He was a little socially awkward, but also genuinely liked people in general, and was able to makes friends simply because of his enthusiastic and friendly nature

[astralaffairs]

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson TEASER

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: abt 7k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison | full part drops at 8 pm EST

desc: from niccolò machiavelli to fernández de moratín, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, second semester seems well on its way to becoming your own personal inferno.

tags: tbd, but lmk if you want on the taglist

“THIS IS REALLY the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on your knee as she leaned toward you in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was genuinely excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyed were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an inquiring eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from his v-neck sweater to his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck.

"Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come over and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women.”

[pisati]

honestly annoyed that my head receptionist can get pissy with me at the end of the day when things got backed up when she’s sitting on twitter half the fucking day and showing me memes and tweets while I’m taking care of LITERALLY all the emails and scans in between taking phone calls

yesterday she forgot to do confirmation calls, which she usually does when we close, and I forgot until she was about to leave. so I ended up having to do them while I was closing by myself. 

today she gave me some attitude after I’d just gotten done checking in a euthanasia; our last patient of the day signed up for a wellness plan and usually we just wait til checkout to get their card information and we put everything together then, but she gave me that condescending tone and asked me to call them and get their card on file ahead of time. I was like... I don’t want to call during the appointment because what if the doctor calls her while she’s in the middle of giving me her card number? why all of a sudden are we changing things up and why are you getting a tone with me for hesitating?

I asked her, after taking my cat to the back to get his shots done, what else needed to be done. usually I’m asking “does anything else need to be done?” but I knew there were things, so I just asked what. and she gave me that condescending tone again telling me future appointments needed to be done. usually she takes care of them throughout the day but it was kind of busy today, so whatever. but like. I was literally just asking. I will do the thing. just tell me what needs to be done. so I was like “ok” and started on them.

I HATE making future appointments because I think they’re a bullshit waste of time, but if they need to be done I’m going to do them. I tried to tell her this yesterday; she got a tone with me a week or so ago because I was scanning physical files for a good part of the evening and at some point I sat down and she goes “ok so it’s sort of my fault because you did ask if anything else needed to be done before you got the folders but future appointments need to be done” and I was like... okay?? so I’ll do them, why the tone? I tried to tell her yesterday that I literally just forgot. usually she handles them, and I’m constantly forgetting that they’re a thing we’re supposed to do. I know I hate them, but I’ll do them. sometimes I need a reminder. that’s it. no need to be condescending about it. 

like I just. I don’t know what sets her off sometimes. her tone completely changes with me and I wish she’d just tell me straight-up. and I KNOW her tone changes. I know the subtleties. I know when she’s talking to me like she talks to the younger assistants she doesn’t like much. I’m not an idiot. sometimes I feel like I’m asking her redundant questions, or it takes me a minute to come to a conclusion on my own and I ask before I come up with the answer myself, and sometimes it feels like she gets annoyed with me. I’ve told her many, many times-- most of the time I’m just double-checking myself to make sure I’m doing the thing right. because I care enough to make sure it gets done right. my memory is absolute garbage and generally when I ask the same questions it’s because I just cannot remember. I think most of the time she’s fine with answering, but sometimes she gets annoyed like “you should know this”. and  yes, sometimes I should. but sometimes it really falls back on how they trained me. which was.. not very well.

in our meeting today someone had brought up the fact that when we see patients have gone to the ER (or have called us and we point them to the ER), we’re supposed to put in a follow-up for a day or two out so we remember to call them and check in, see how their pet is doing. it absolutely makes sense. but NOBODY told me to do that when I started. I was told to attach the records to an ER visit line item, and put a note in the worklist for the doctor that saw them most recently. that was it. I was told later that we should be putting in follow-ups, but I’d already gotten into the habit and it’s so easy to forget when you attach a record, put a note in for the doctor, and then the phone rings. during the meeting our head receptionist was like “well we’re all supposed to be doing that, I THOUGHT we were, but I don’t know” like bitch you’re the one that trained me!!! I can almost guarantee that that meeting note was partly directed at me. I know I’m guilty of it. I just was not trained well. 

there’s so much I’ve had to learn on the fly and I’m sure steps got missed. the only formal training I had for anything was for avimark, the system we use for records and communication, and that was just basic “how does this work” and “where are the buttons and menus for such and such things”. everything else, I was basically just watching other people do things and asking what to do when I was supposed to do things. nobody told me procedure, I never once saw an SOP for anything besides euthanasia appointments. I was literally told what line items to attach things to, how to access a worklist, what to type, and that’s it. it took me way longer than it should have to learn the function of a worklist and what doctors would like to see in them. I’m honestly still a little fuzzy on what to put in worklist notes sometimes. sometimes doctors pass notes back kind of confused and then I feel like an idiot, but I don’t want to take up their time during the day asking questions about non-urgent things.

I’m just getting annoyed and worried. we really need to dial back on the wellness visits. we’re scheduling people for regular semi-annuals, grade 0-1 dentals, nail trims, and kennel cough vaccines, and honestly that just seems unnecessarily risky when pets are perfectly healthy. when we split into teams things were not near as bad as they are now, and we’re even getting careless inside the clinic. I mean, fuck. our head receptionist went to fucking california and was out and about for a week and didn’t have to quarantine at all. she got the day off after she got back, got the weekend off, and she was right back in on monday. and her desk is the one I use. I share her computer and her phone. I didn’t consent to that shit. another coworker is now out for two weeks because some dumbass anti-mask employee at her baby’s daycare caught covid and gave it to her fucking baby. and she’d been in to work after bringing her kid home before he showed symptoms. another one of my coworkers is going to colorado for a ski trip soon. I think she’s driving, but still. fuck’s sake. could we really not put this off? and management hasn’t said shit to any of them. hell, the practice manager has her mask off at least 80% of the time when I go into the office. led our covid OSHA training and wears her mask under her nose, a thing that we were instructed not to do.

I don’t get paid enough for this. I really should ask for a raise; I do so much more than I did when I started. but honestly if I had anywhere else to go I’d leave. this is the best work environment I’ve been in but if I had the chance to work remotely even for the same pay I’d take it. I just don’t feel safe, but I have no other choice. I need to pay rent. this is the safest place I could be working right now though, outside of government work, or some other boring job I could do remotely. I’m not going to leave the clinic, where at least we can lock clients out, to go work some other job where I have to be around people and interact with people all day. 

this is going to go on a long time. hell, even our vaccines are delayed. the county just called yesterday to tell us that they’d be letting us know when it was our turn, since we’re in the second group in line for vaccines after first-responders and doctors and such. but they have no idea timeline-wise when we’ll be able to get them. not only that, but people are going to act like the vaccine makes them invincible to it, like they can’t still be carriers. once the general public has access to the vaccine, I know we’re going to see a huge spike in cases. if I’m still at the clinic by the time that even happens, I KNOW we’re going to have clients asking why they still can’t come in because they’re vaccinated now, some of which will get upset at us for still saying no.  

I’m just so tired. I don’t know what covid would do to me and it scares me that I could end up bedridden for life if I caught it, because it’s already hard not to want to off myself in the state I’m in. but I’m tired of being so upset and annoyed. I’m tired of worrying one of my coworkers is going to bring it in, because with how careless some of them are being, inevitably they will. I’ve been lucky enough to dodge the bullet with the first strain so far, but if there’s a strain that’s more contagious, I’m going to get it. my immune system is garbage. I’m just tired of all of this. almost wish I would catch it so I could catch a damn break. and also lowkey to give the middle finger to my coworkers who still think it’s fine to go out doing unnecessary shit. especially now that cases are skyrocketing in this area. if I catch it from one of them and end up even more fucked up for life, they’re gonna catch some hell from me.

it’s exhausting trying to look for other jobs though. I know I’m smart and I have a huge range of experience. maybe I just don’t know the right keywords, or maybe people who are looking to hire don’t know the right keywords for what they want, but right now it feels like there’s nothing for me out there. most “linguist” positions really just want translators, and any other actual linguist positions want someone with like a PhD and 5+ years experience. I’m good at research. I’m good at noticing the little details. I’m organized and I’ve learned at this hospital that I’m good at multitasking and prioritizing tasks. I might be brain foggy as hell and I may forget like everything but if it’s not a live, fast-paced clinic environment and I have time to get my shit together, my shit will be together. I just. wish there was something I could do from home that wouldn’t bore me to death. I honestly think my last job traumatized me. even thinking about working another office job makes me want to throw myself out a window. I’m just not a 9-5, business casual kind of person. I want to be hands-on with something. I want to feel like I’m getting something done, and that something that I’m doing isn’t pointless. there’s got to be something out there for me. I know I can do a job and do it well. I just don’t have any idea where or what it is.

I don’t know. I just. don’t know

[eoneshot]

Critical Reflection - Film Genre

A Nocturnal Scene

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

This module has been hell of a ride for everyone in my group. Working on a film with so many Covid-19 restrictions was very challenging however I couldn’t be prouder with what we’ve achieved.

I’ll start from the very beginning...

As soon as I heard that in this module we were gonna be focusing on a genre I was very confident with the genre I was going to go for this film. Most of the films or scripts I have written I explore the experience of youths today and their relationship with their surroundings - it is all rather simple and based on feelings and emotions. But I wanted to challenge myself. I wanted to create something stylistic incorporating my style of subtlety and slowness. 

During the process of writing the script, I thought I was gonna give up, I didn’t know what exactly was I going for or what I wanted to say. So many ideas were developed and then thrown into the trash bin. A week was left and I still haven’t had a developed script when I realised I was going all over my head trying to write something which could never be made into a 3 minute film over its’ complexity. During that time I was working on a few commercials as a PA back in Lithuania which might have inspired the idea a little bit (after I wrote the script, me and my group mates were joking what a great Baby Monitors’ commercial this would be), but it also taught me how to structure such a short run time film. Me and my cousin, who is doing a Phd in something related to film philosophy, were discussing that most of the films which are under 5 minutes are based on this plot twist idea at the end (which I went for myself as well), but is there any other way to hook the viewer but so the film would feel completed on it’s own as well. I do not like voice overs, neither a soundtrack - it is an easy way to get out of the situation. There are a few great examples of such short films existing without those plot twists or music, but it is rare. 

However, after the script was done and we were going into pre-production, I was still stuck in Lithuania, trying my best to be involved as much as possible, but it wasn’t the same as being here. That’s when they announced that Lithuania is being taken off the travel corridor and if I come, I’d need to isolate for 2 weeks, which would sabotage the whole shoot. So I dropped all my work or driver’s license plans in Lithuania and bought the flight ticket for the next day. 

After that, with some minot issues, the pre-production was rolling very smooth (from my side at least, I am not the producer at the end and Jessica might have a bit more insight about that on her blog). Me and Jessica or Lucas kept meeting up - scheduling the shooting, sourcing the props, doing test shoots, etc. 

The biggest challenge was finding a location. The clock was counting days till the shoot and we still had nothing. Trust me when I tell you that we have tried everything...everything: meadows share, Edinburgh film office, Gumtree, friends, etc. No one had anything we were looking for, at least not for the budget we had. 

Luckily, as I was in Glasgow doing test shoots and sourcing props, I was staying at my sister’s flat, and I realised that was still not ideal regarding the size of the place but at the time being probably the best we could get. It took hours of convincing, but after agreeing on the rate we got the location!

We got very lucky with the actor as well - James. I met up with him only once before the shoot just to get to know him as a person, tell him about the film, shoot, inspirations, etc. and make him feel comfortable around me. 

He gave a great performance, exactly what I wanted and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. Hopefully he enjoyed this just as much. 

Last but definitely one of the most important steps was post-production. It makes the film and although it is a very stressful part requiring hours and hours of work I couldn’t be happier that I had Beth to do it. She is an extremely talented person with professional work ethics (which not all of people in our group had it). She made several cuts and she was also listening to my opinion. She had loads of smart ideas and insights and was able to deliver all of them. 

One of the main comments during the critical review was the film’s pace - everyone said it was slow and could be easily cut down. So just to address that, I was aware of the film’s tempo during the edit and was hoping to build the whole tension during the sound edit (will discuss that part later), it might not worked out as well as I wanted it to but hey, I learned! And this is what uni is all about I suppose.

Although Josh for most of the film and sound design project was floating somewhere around and never really doing what he was asked for. I was pleasantly surprised how involved he was in the sound post-edit. I always kept in mind that he has never done it before and that was the only thing that was stressing me out - knowing that we couldn’t achieve some of the thing I had in my head. But due to long hours of sitting in editing suites and foley room with him, we achieved something way better than what I have expected. The film is still missing some tension building with the outside world sounds, but we have booked the rooms over Monday, Tuesday and will continue working on that.

Another thing that looks quite cheap is the title and credits sequences. We were so involved with the colour grading and editing that this totally slipped out of my head up until a day before the film submission. We will keep the first shot longer with the push in and have a proper film title done on Photoshop but I still don’t know what my issue with the credits is - it is either too bulky, thick or something else - when I figure out what exactly it is that keeps triggering me, we will change it as well this week. 

Overall, with all the challenges we had to face and after seeing everyone’s work I am very proudly with what we have managed to achieve and can’t wait to work with people in my group again, sadly Lucas is gone :( 

Well done everyone!