#it's a Full Calendar Year before i could graduate again
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girl help. The Stresses
#missed a quiz and convinced myself it was the final#boy#syllabus doesn't seem to indicate that whatsoever#but i missed it#so#the trouble is all the classes i'm taking rn are spring-only#so it's not like i can just pick up a cute little makeup over the summer or fall#it's a Full Calendar Year before i could graduate again#or i could just transfer to Some Other Fucking School and be like heyyyyy bestie i need a degree#<- being dramatic i'm not gonna fail anything i have never in my LIFE failed a class and i'm not gonna start now#but god#fuck
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â§Ë° â adventures in babysitting
pairing: joe goldberg x fem! reader
type: imagine (1.6k+ words)
requested: no
summary: joe and love decide to get a babysitter for henry after dottieâs breakdown. who wouldâve thought she'd spark joe's interest?
warning(s): one-sided pining (-ish). rushed plot / dialogue. no use of y/n.
note(s): not my gif. not my divider. this takes place during season 3! iâve seen sooo little joe love on here, so i thought iâd write some! i havenât written a full fledged fic in nearly 4 years, so please bear with me while i try to regain my skills. reblog & comment if you enjoyed it / want a part 2!
adoredawnâs masterlist
âif you want to make some calls to any previous parents iâve worked with, there are some cell numbers i can give you,â you said with a smile, looking between the husband and wife before you. you sat opposite them on a plush loveseat as they were side-by-side on their gray sofa adorned with decorative pillows.
âoh that doesnât seem necessary, weâve heard great things.â love grinned as she patted joeâs knee lovingly. âcary and sherry just could not recommend you enough!â
you giggled and shook your head, smoothening out your summer dress. âi did have my hands full with those twins, that week and a half was a wild oneâŠâ
there was an uncomfortable silence. the house was eerily quiet for a toddler to be living in it, though it was his nap time. your eyes drifted down to what trinkets littered their coffee table. coasters, a book on home décor, and toddler toy keys.
as you had walked in earlier, you noticed their home was eerily clean. a family portrait of the three was already hung in a hallway and other pictures were framed on bookshelves and end tables. their home was modern, yet vintage at the same time. it felt like a showroom, but one you could call home.
you could feel their eyes on you, studying you, as you gazed around their home.
joe cleared his throat and sat up straighter, love looked at him expectingly and you mimicked his movements, snapping out of your thoughts. âso⊠how soon can you start? howâs your schedule?â
you opened your mouth to answer, reaching beside you to grab your purse and look at the calendar on your phone, but a cry rang from upstairs.
love sighed, âsorry about that, i guess nap timeâs over! iâll go get him and we can introduce you.â she sprang up from her seat and made her way up the staircase, glancing back once to eye joe.
joe watched as his wife traveled up the stairs to soothe their toddler, and as he turned back to look at you, he caught your stare. you momentarily forgot what he had asked, flustered. âoh-uh, well i can start as soon as you need. iâm available all week really. iâm taking a break from school for a semester.â
joe seemed to perk up, and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. âhuh, whatâre you studying?â
âeducation, with a focus on advanced literature in secondary educationâ
he licked his lips and you couldnât help but watch. your hands balled into fists in your lap, crescent moons forming in your palms from your nails digging in.
âyou enjoy reading?â his voice buzzed lowly with curiosity and you nodded softly.
âmhm, i plan on being a high school teacher or a professor once i graduate.â you paused, looking behind joe at the staircase, and wondering what was taking love so long. you shook your head slightly, focusing your attention back on joe, trying to remain cool. âdo you read?â
âi do. i was a bookstore manager for some time.â
âreally? that mustâve been fun-â
âhere he is, say âhiâ henry!â love came down the stairs carrying henry on her hip. joe turned and watched them both come down, reaching for henry once love had sat beside him again.
you waved at little henry, and he barely paid you any mind, focusing on his mother and father. love turned him around to sit facing you, where you could see that his white pajama onesie was covered in blue moons and yellow stars.
âhenry, say âhi,â bubba!â love encouraged him, grabbing his arm to wave at you, causing you to smile and wave back. she looked up from him, to you, a serious look on her face. âdo you want to hold him? heâs not very fussy around newer people.â
you hesitate, looking back and forth between love and joe, as if asking for permission, even though love has already granted it. meanwhile henry babbled, spitting drool over his onesie. âsure sure, iâve got him,â you said confidently.
you stood and bent over the coffee table separating you from the couple, reaching for their toddler. as love passed him to you, henry giggled, flailing his legs and flapping his arms while heâs in the air, causing the three of you to also begin laughing.
you felt joe watching you as you held henry, and you tried your best not to return any glances, wanting to maintain your focus on henry.
you sat back on the loveseat, bouncing henry on your lap a few times. âhey, henry, howâre you doing, buddy? iâm gonna be your new babysitter.â you tell him your name, chanting it as you point at yourself a few times. he looks at you and smiles, grabbing at the bottom hem of your dress and tugging.
you couldnât help but feel like you were being watched as you had henry in your lap. of course you were being watched, you told yourself. joe and love just wanted to make sure they would be leaving henry with someone who knew what they were doing. and you very much did.
after a few minutes of holding henry, he began to stretch his arms out, pleading to go back to his parents. you held him back safely as he whined and yearned to reach the other side of the coffee table.
joe grunted an âi got âim,â before he walked over to you and picked henry up off of your lap, his hands brushing yours. you felt a pang in your heart as you touched, but squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore it.
once joe got a hold of him, henry began to shriek. joe tried to calm him down, patting his back and rocking him side to side, but he didnât let up. love quickly got up from her seat and took henry from joe, patting his back.
âitâs okay, forty, itâs okay, mommaâs hereâŠâ love soothed him, and whispered âsorry!â she sat back on the couch, trying to calm him down.
joe ran a hand through his hair, frowned, and sighed. you watched him with a frown, and he caught your gaze, to which you stood and stuck out your hand. âit was really great to meet you you both.â
joe took your hand in his and shook, smiling softly at you. âit was nice meeting you, miss... iâll walk you out.â you blushed lightly as he recalled your name and turned to love and squeezed her shoulder goodbye. she muttered a soft âbyeâ and you rubbed henryâs back and said bye to him as well.
joe kissed love on the cheek as she settled henry down and followed behind you. you reached for the doorknob, and joe followed suit, his fingers brushing against yours again. they lingered for a second, and you turned to look up at him as you retreated your hand.
he smiled gingerly as he grabbed hold of the knob and twisted the door open. youâre both greeted by the gorgeous california sun and birdsong and you take a step outside. you turned, expecting to say your final goodbyes, but joe followed you out.
âthank you, again, for coming out to see us and meet henry. i assume love already gave you our numbers?â he asked as he closed the door behind him. he leaned against the door frame with both hands in his pockets and quickly looked you up and down.
you nodded, âyeah, it was no problem. and she did. do you have mine?â you began pulling your phone out of your purse before joe spoke.
âyes, i can send you a text to make sure itâs the right one?â
before you could agree, joe pulled his phone out of his back pocket and began typing. soon enough, you heard a familiar ding! from inside your purse, and went to read the message:
Hello, you.
you smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, âiâve got it, thanks.â you turned away to leave before stopping abruptly. joe had already turned to leave as well, and faltered as you came back. âsorry, uh, i was just wondering when would i be starting?â
joe stuck his tongue in his cheek, in thought for a moment, and you took this time to fully drink him in. he had one hand in his pants pocket, the other rubbing his chin. his dark curls fell perfectly over his forehead, and you wanted to brush them away to get him to look deeply into your eyes. his gray sleeves hugged the curve of the muscles on his arms so right, that you nearly melted at the thought of being trapped in them.
you couldnât be thinking like this, you scolded yourself. you'd never suddenly gotten this rush of feelings when meeting someone before. heâs happily married with a kid that youâll be taking care of. get. it. together!
âhow about monday? iâll be home for a few hours, and i donât think love would mind if i stay and show you henryâs schedule.â
you nodded eagerly, âabsolutely, just let me know when to get here. thank you, again, for having me!â you waved goodbye as you trekked down their concrete walkway and to their white picket fence toward your car. you covered your eyes from the sun and once you made it to your car, you searched for and waved at joe from across the street.
joe waved to you and watched as you settled into your vehicle. he didnât take his eyes off of you until your car had driven out of his sight, eager for the weekend to fly by and see you on monday.
#fanfiction#fanfic#joe goldberg#you netflix#joe goldberg x reader#joe goldberg x you#joe goldberg x fem reader#joe goldberg fanfic#you season 3#love quinn#x reader#adoredawn writes
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Each Coming Night
Summary: Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 2870 Warnings: Smutty smut, smidgen of knife play, fingering, oral (female receiving), some spanking, p in v. Author's Note: Okay, this took a minute because I literally was unsure what the fuck to do next with this depravity. It was supposed to be a smutty one shot and now it is finding a full arc. Thank you for much to @f4ll-for-you because your feedback and editing has helped me with this entire series. There will be 5 parts and I hope you all enjoy! Tags (kindred spirits): @glitterandgoldfinds @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @fan-goddess @welcometothelioncageâ @hueanhdang (it wonât let me tag you??)  Series: Call It Dreaming
This cannot be happening to me.
This was your thought when the timer on your phone had gone off and you looked to see two pink lines glaring back.
This is a false positive, a defective strip, you reason, throwing it into the trash and retreating to the kitchen to refill the mason jar you were using to hydrate.Â
At first you rolled your eyes when your roommate, Emma, made a comment about how your diva cup was only collecting dust as of late, but when you checked your calendar you realized that your cycle was, in fact, late. You purchased the test-a pack of three, actually-from the corner mart for peace of mind, reminding yourself that the only way for you to be pregnant would be to actually have sex or immaculate conception, which made the latter plausible since you were not fucking anyone.
Or fucking anyone within this reality.
You felt your chest tightened with the damn intrusive thought that spoke boldly from the back of your mind. Your sleeping schedule felt irreparable as of late, with you only having two solid nights of sleep that left you aching in the most delightful way the following day.Â
You felt crazy and you were certain you could not speak it out loud to anyone-how would you even describe these lucid, sexy dreams? You assumed it came from the stress of the semester, these graduate level courses particularly grueling as you worked towards your masters; you used to appreciate being a recluse, the burden of your coursework and internship damn near suffocating, but you were finding it difficult to focus on anything as of late.Â
There was a time when you were able to turn your brain on automation and be able to retain whatever your professors spewed, dive into assignments with an outline in hand, and be able to finish projects before their due date.Â
Instead, you were consumed by this ache in your core that could not be resolved by any means available within the 21st century.Â
Then you dreamed of him again, Aemond fucking Targaryen, and it was just as delicious as the first time, fulfilling a satisfaction that you were grieving the prior day, assuming it was lost forever. It was unlike any dream you ever had and you remembered a tone of sadness when he said the words, âI imagine you will leave me again.â
You had, of course, woken up in your bed with that same delicious ache between your thighs and naked. Damn, I liked that dress, your mind thought as you were quick to check yourself in your mirror, just like last time.Â
There were love bites that trailed your neckline and you could see the bruises from his grip on your hips.
It did not make sense.Â
Your mind was in a fog and you would tread through each day listlessly. Whatever the lie you convinced yourself of before had faded into nothing, your only motivation was to be done with your degree and even that was clouded by the impending student debt. At night, you pined for your subconscious to return you to Westeros but instead you had a few hours of a fitful sleep each night.Â
There was an unexpected release when you found yourself returning to a passion you had not felt in years.Â
It began one afternoon, during a particularly long lecture, when you were enticed by the vacant space on the lined paper you meant to use for your notes; your pen was intentional with every stroke, flitting across the page, desperate to capture the sharp angles of his faceâŠÂ
âI appreciate your rapt attention, but class is over.â
You looked up to see the room was nearly empty, with a few students filling out, and your professor watching you, holding his bag and waiting for you to exit.Â
You were quick to throw everything into your backpack and return to your apartment, to your room, where you dug out an old sketch book you purchased years ago. You retrieved the notes from the class and saw the beginnings of Aemondâs portrait peering back; you had been complimented often for your drawings, but your family was apt to remind you the impracticality of an art degree and had been appalled at your suggestion at having no degree.
You could not place the blame on them entirely; you eventually shelved your passion and enrolled in a university you knew would make them proud.Â
And clearly the pressure of all this had cracked your brain entirely, since you suffered from a fucked up insomnia and found only a fictional prince from Westeros could get you off these days.Â
You groaned when the timer on your phone brought your attention back to see the two tests on the bathroom sink, both with two lines of pink mocking you. You threw them in the trash and piled toilet paper on top to hide them.Â
Fuck me. You sighed and washed your hands, peering at your reflection in the mirror. The love bites had faded away and you just looked tired, which was an understatement as you had not slept well this semester save those two nights in Kingâs Landing.Â
You returned to your room and threw yourself on the bed, eventually moving to rest your chest on the back of your hand and looking to see the growing collection of drawings and sketches that you began to pin on your wall. All were different mediums, pen, pencil, and the occasional charcoal, but each one was the same subject.
Aemond.Â
He had stirred your muses in a way you thought was lost to you the moment you signed your livelihood to this degree and the career it would entail.Â
He has stirred more than just your muses, that fucking intrusive thought made your groan and you rolled on your back, grabbing a pillow to smother your scream.Â
I cannot handle this, you decide, still unable to fathom the madness that you might possibly be pregnant from a sexy dream. Instead, you would sleep, wake up with a clear mind and some sort of idea of what steps to take, or maybe wake to find the news of a massive recall for store bought tests.Â
You curled beneath your blanket and closed your eyes.Â
And when you opened them, you were, once again, in his room.
He was not awake, from what you could see. The fireplace had a low, amber light that pooled out onto the stone hearth that stretched in front of the fireplace and towards the empty leather chair. The dark, velvet curtains were tucked in the silver tiebacks and allowed the sea breeze and moonlight to pour into the room.Â
There were tapers that burned low on his nightstand, casting a golden hue that washed over the sharp angles of his face and highlighting his tranquil expression as he slept. You were slow with your steps as you approached his bedside, your eyes drank in his figure as he laid back against the mattress, the shimmer of his silver locks and how one arm up was tucked behind his pillow while the other rested on his bare chest, rising and falling with his steady breathing.Â
He was beautiful and you were lost in the moment, your fingertips touching the bed edge and a small sigh that slipped from your lips.
Aemond was too fast for you to comprehend his movements, one moment you admired him as he slept and now he bound out of his bed like a white fury. He was pressed against you, his slender fingers wrapped around your throat and his other hand a white knuckle grip on his dagger, the blade against your throat.Â
Your eyes were wide as you watched him; his silver hair fell disheveled on his shoulders, his chest heaved with rapid breaths, and as he blinked the sleep away, his lavender eye slowly widened with his comprehension of who he had his hold on.Â
Aemond released you, throwing the dagger to the side with an echo of metal on the cobblestone floor, and his hands cupped your jaw, bringing you against him for a bruising kiss. Your name spilled like a fervent prayer from his lips, âI did not think you would come back to me.â He pulled back and his eye looked over your face, falling to the side of your neck.
You knew he had cut you and your thighs clenched from the sting, the sea breeze cool against the trickle of blood. You saw the flash of worry dance on his features and your hand rested on his hips, your nails biting into his skin and pulling him close again. âIâm fine, my prince,â you soothed, your face flushed when you dared to tease him. âThis has become a part of our foreplay.â
Pleasure coils in your stomach when you see the curl of his lips; he leaned forward to capture your mouth again, his hot tongue pressing in and pulling a moan from the back of your throat. Your hands flitted across the rivets of his abdomen and stopped at his chest, his large hands covering your own and pulling you to the bed. He peels off your clothes, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you onto the edge of the bed.
Goosebumps ripple over you when his warm palms lay on your stomach and move to your hips, pushing you further back on the bed so he can nestle between your thighs. His lips trails the inside of your leg towards your center, then he drags his tongue against your silken folds.Â
You give a small gasp and can feel him grinning against your cunt, followed by the gentle prod of his fingers that curl into you. There is a wet squelch as the pads of his fingertips press further in you, searching until you mewl his name.
He hums his approval, âSÈłz riña.âÂ
Good girl.
He continues the rapid motion against that sweet spot within you, his head dipping forward and his tongue lavishes you, drinking you in as you become undone. Your hands clamp over your mouth to muffle the mixture of your moans, crying against your palms as his movement continues through your release and continues towards overstimulation. âAemond,â you gasp and he stops at once.Â
He is slow to stand, his gaze hard on you and you watch as he begins to unlace his breeches. âDo not cover your mouth when I fuck you,â his tone dark and he crawls on top of you, pushing you further up the bed. âVa jaelan ryptas ao,â his face nuzzles into your neck and you feel the burn of his tongue along the cut.
I want to hear you.
His arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you towards the headboard, pulling until your backside is flush with his warm chest; his mouth is hot as he bites into your neck, sucking, and his tongue leading to your shoulder.Â
You arc against him, your ass pressing against his cock; he groans, grabbing your hip to slip between the softness of your thighs, slick from your release, and rubbing his length against your swollen lips. You whimper from the friction, your head tilting back against him and his nose presses against your ear, his mouth chewing on your earlobe. His hands trail your side, his fingertips gentle to trail your curves before grabbing into your hip and pulling you roughly against him.
âSÄ«r rÄpa,â he groans in your ear. So soft.Â
His slender fingers palm your ass, lifting to press his swollen head into your wet warmth; his head falls forward between your shoulder blades and you let out a cry, arching against him again and allowing him to sheath himself fully into you.Â
Aemond grabs your hip to pull you against him at a bruising pace from behind, hitting the same spot from before. Your thighs are slick and he slips out, but moves you on your stomach. He reaches for a pillow, nudging to tuck it under your lower abdomen, and propping your ass up when you lay back onto it.Â
Your breathing quickens when you feel his warm hands, one on each cheek, and he pulls you apart slowly, allowing the breeze to tickle your wet heat. âGevie,â Beautiful, he praises and you can feel the press of his cock against your soaked folds, the delicious stretch as he presses entirely into you.Â
Your hands grip the sheets and his hands are pressed on your lower back, holding you in place, and you feel the tickle of his silver hair on your backside when he leans forward. âStop clenching,â you can hear his smug smile. âI wish to enjoy you.âÂ
There is a satisfying wet squelch when he finally ruts his hips against you, hitting a depth within your velvet walls that curls your toes. You can feel his hip bones in the soft flesh of your ass and the crescendo builds easily from his overstimulation; you are breathless, your skin is aflame as you best brace yourself against his thrusts.
His hand moves from his grip on your hip, moving the curve of your ass before lifting his hand for a sharp slap that sends shockwaves of pleasure over your body, once, twice. The sound spills a wanton moan from your lips and a guttural groan escapes the back of his throat.
As your cunt begins to flutter, you bury your face against the mattress and he is quick to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you back to all fours. You are a mewling mess, tears streaming your cheeks, and his other hand grabs onto your hip, continuing his brutal pace.
âAemond,â you beg, but unsure what you are begging for. âAemond, AemondâŠâ
Your crescendo of pleasure blossomed in your lower abdomen, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that rolled over and you clenching desperately at him. His thrusts grew sloppy and you felt the warmth of his seed spill into you, his cock twitching with his release.Â
You fall forward and curl on your side, hugging the pillow he propped under your hips and savoring its new scent of sex. Aemond pushes from the bed and moves to an oak table with a basin on top, picking up a cloth and dropping it in. He wrings out the extra water and returns to the bed, sitting on the edge and nudging your knee.Â
âOpen,â he says and your legs spread.
The cloth feels cool in contrast to his touch and he is gentle to wipe you clean before pushing from the bed again. He uses a clean cloth for himself before he curls beneath the covers, eager to bring you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you.Â
This gives you a sense of serenity, the feeling of being against the warmth of his chest and the comfort in his embrace. There was nothing comparable in your world to this moment and you feel the threat of tears at the thought. You swallow to hold them back, but he notices and says your name in a low whisper. âWhat is wrong?âÂ
His tone is genuine, gentle, and you cannot control the tears that spill. âIâm fine, I just wish that,â but what did you wish for? How do you explain that your reality is a suffocation of unwanted responsibility? That your only sense of pleasure is a hobby that your family begs you to forget and to just become another cog in the 21st century?
You blink away the tears, a small smile on your lips when you turn your head to look at him. âI only wish I was able to stay longer with you,â you finally manage.Â
Aemond hums as he pulls you close, nestling you beneath his chin and his touch gentle as he draws small circles between your shoulder blades. The ministrations lull you to sleep and you wake up to your roommate walking through your bedroom door.Â
âHey, slut,â Emma is flippant with her greeting, mostly focused on grabbing her red hair to tie back. âI have to go to the store and I was checking if you need anything. Alex is making me go right now to buy him Pop-Tarts because he thinks I ate all of his, which I did butâŠâ her voice trails off when she finally looks at you. âHoly fuck. Are you okay?â
Your eyes are swollen and red, there is a smear of blood on your neck under your jaw with love bites that decorated beneath and to your shoulders. Her eyes are wide with alarm and she moves to sit on the bed, unfazed that you are very naked. âHey, did someone hurt you?â You are quick to shake your head. âNo, I just,â you struggle with how to explain this, âI, uh, have been seeing someone and it is kind of complicated.âÂ
Emma raised her eyebrow. âHow so?â She asks, peering over the marks from your night with Aemond. âLike, it seems whatever you have going on is very enthusiastic, if anythingâŠâ
âEmma,â you breathe. âIâm pregnant.â
#each coming night#call it dreaming#aemond x reader#aemond smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x modern!reader#aemond fanfiction#hotd fanfic#part 3#thanks for reading#â„#Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader
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Valentina Contreras
For @kashisun Simblr Office!
Full body shots and loooooads of information below the cut! â€ïž
36 years old
Graduated with honors from UBright. Head of the Simblr Office's Public Relations department for around 5 years now. The office employee advocate in any possible legal situations. Will have a company scandal handled before you can call your momma about it.
Ambitious, secret geek, your resident mean friendâąïž with a heart of gold. Don't wax poetic to her though, she will barf and adamantly deny that she even likes you (she does) or that she has the capability to be sweet (again, she does - in her own way).
Does not do nicknames but will tolerate "Val" from the coworkers she gets along with. If she doesn't like you, it's Ms. Contreras exclusively.
Chronic desk snacker. Has never ate lunch in the break room in her life. Has been seen running to the conference room in emergency "defcon" situations with her trademark huge ass thermos in one hand, her (newest model) iPhone pressed to her ear, and a bagel hanging from her mouth.
Lives with a lowkey migraine all the time, thus overly prepared. Has a cabinet filled with all the period products, vitamin supplements, and pain relievers the office could ever need. She walked in on two coworkers getting freaky once and, after "vigorously bleaching her eyeballs" (her words), she wordlessly added various contraceptives to the cabinet the next day. (If you take any, DO NOT elaborate to her. Plausible deniability and all that.)
Lives and dies by her smart watch. Calendar queen through and through.
As scary as she is on the surface, she really likes her job and her coworkers (she would never admit this). She's gives straightforward and thorough advice, is a good listener, and always accepts invites to hang out after work (so long as you sent her a calendar invite, obviously).
Competitive as fuck. Scarily good at drinking games.
Serious about the work life balance - you will not find her ass in the office more than a minute after the end of the day. If you interrupt her on a day off or call her while she's on vacation, she will murder you with her perfectly manicured and moisturized hands.
Posted a pic on her (highly guarded) Instagram flashing a huge ass diamond ring with no description. Showed up to work the next day and didn't say a thing. That doesn't stop people from speculating who the brave guy is (no one is ever right). One thing is for sure though - he does NOT work at the office! đ
Does not have children and probably will never have children. She says she "does plenty of babysitting at work, thank you."
Has been known to call coworkers who piss her off or who create public company-related nightmares "little shits" or "dumbasses." It comes off far more endearing than she wants it to.
She can be heard saying, "Nope. Nope. Not today," "I do not get paid enough for this shit," and/or a slew of obscenities (in Spanish and in English, always in rapid succession) multiple times a day.
You can tell if you're about to be in deep shit with her based upon the pace at which her heels click toward your office/cubicle. đ
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#God knows this office needed a PR department to handle the inevitable scandals from all the hotties and their office relationships lmfao đ#Thank you Kashisun for starting this! Your mind!!! đ€Żđđ#This is literally one of my favorite simblr community CAS collaborations. I have read everyone's office OCs and I'm obsessed!!#Kashisun#the simblr office#simblr office#ts4#simblr#ts4 cas#my ocs#ts4 ocs#oc: valentina#atfs
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Neglected PT. 1
George Weasley X Reader
PT.2 PT.3(+18)
George gets busy and you fight.
_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
To say the shop was busy was an understatement for the passed two months George has rarely been home, you packed the rest of the food in the bag as you apparated to the office âhey love, i brought you dinnerâ you smiled at him as he mulled over the paperwork âi was thinking.. we could go out to the movies tomorrow night theres the new Marvel movie that came out, and then hit the muggle arcade. Or Theres a fair in town and i sorta wanted to go with youâ you said with some hope in your eyes it was your 25th birthday tomorrow and you wanted to celebrate with your boyfriend by going out on a date âi dont think i can love, i have to get these done by Friday or weâll be penalizedâ he said not looking up from his form âbutâŠ.â You started âlove i cant im up to my neck in paperworkâ he sighed annoyance in his voice âits myâŠâ âY/N I SAID NO! IM BUSY JUST GO HOME!â He yelled tears filled your eyes âfine⊠iâll just see you at home then. I love youâ you sniffled out âlove.. waitâ he breathed out âDo you even remember what tomorrow is Weasley?â You asked him tears leaking down from your eyes he looked taken aback by you calling him by his last name he shook his head âim sorry love its just the shops been kicking my arse. With Fred on paternity leave its me doing the work of threeâ âwhatever George.â You muttered under your breath âweâll talk about it when i get homeâ he said annoyance still in his voice âAnd when will that be George next month? Or will i see you three months down the line. Do I have to make an appointment for you to come home?â You snapped at him âyou havent been home in three weeksâ you looked down wiping the tears from your eyes âWHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO DO Y/N ITS MY MONEY THAT TAKES CARE OF US NOT YOURS YOU WANT US TO LOSE EVERYTHING WE HAVE AND ARE WORKING SO HARD FOR!â âNO I WANTED YOU TO MAKE TIME FOR ME ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!â You screamed at him finally crying harder his eyes widened as he looked at the calendar on his desk âits the day before my birthday Georgeâ âlove iâŠâ he started âI WASNT ASKING FOR A FULL DAY GEORGE I WAS ASKING FOR ONE FUCKING EVENING ONE DATE! NEVER FUCKING MIND THANK YOU FOR SO GRACIOUSLY TELLING ME THAT I DONT MATTER TO YOU!â She yelled âWHAT ARE YOU EVEN ON ABOUT! OF COURSE YOU FUCKING MATTER TO ME Y/N!â âYOU SURE HAVE A FUNNY WAY OF SHOWING IT! GOD GEORGE HOW CAN YOU BE SO⊠SOâŠâ you threw your hands up in frustration âso what Y/nâ his voice low warning you to let it go but also challenging you to keep going âso clueless to everyone elses feelings but your own cant you see youre hurting me? Cant you see how much youre ignoring me for what?â Your voice breaks âweâve been together for almost six years and not once have you forgotten our anniversary⊠my birthday⊠you made time for me for every small win I had you celebrated it with me. I took care of you. I took care of you before we even got together LETTING you and Fred get away as a prefect. Turning my head as head girl! I let you test your products on me you turned me completely blue! I never complained because i saw your brilliance and your potential from first year. I helped you not Fred with your potions and working out the bugs because i knew you and him would be big one day and now that you have your success? Your empire? You just forget about me. You know George. i never doubted it, I wasnt one who said you couldnt do it. I supported you. i cooked for you i cleaned for you through your over nighters. I took care of the scars Umbridge gave you. IâŠ. i picked up the physical therapy duties helping you walk again after the war. I SAT UP WITH YOU THROUGH THE NIGHTMARES! I healed Fred while taking a wall to my back for him and after graduation I put my life on hold so you cold shine with your shop. Yes you make more money than i do. But if i had started when i was supposed to id be pulling in just as much as you are but I took that gap year for you to start thisâ she threw her hand up in frustration as he stared at her nostrils flaring
âbut you have always been more important to me George. I LOVED YOU BEFORE YOU HAD MONEY! I LOVED YOU THROUGH HAVING MONEY! I CAN LOVE YOU WITHOUT HAVING MONEY BUT YOURE TOO DAFT TO SEE THAT!â You sobbed furiously wiping the tears from your eys swiping your thumb under your nose his eyes softened as you scolded him âYoure still the most important thing to me so much so that im still loving you even if youâŠ. You dont evenâŠ. RealizeâŠ. Or notice meâ You paused looking up to his eyes filling with angry tears and frustration âbut as soon as Fred takes a step forward in life you decide to what? Punish me as if i did something wrong?â Your voice cracked âwhen was the last time you held me. You even remember that? Did I tell you my grandmother died? And that I need you?â His eyes widened he stepped forward âdarling iâ âNO DONT CALL ME THAT DONT MAKE ME OUT TO BE THE BAD GUY. YOU DONT GET TO GASLIGHT ME INTO BELIEVING YOULL MAKE TIME FOR US AND THEN YOU DONT! JUST. WHAT EVER GEORGE!â You yell he stops walking tward you âYOU FUCKED UP AND YOU DONT GET TO MAKE THIS RIGHT WITH EMPTY PROMISES AGAIN! TAKE SOME DAMN ACCOUNTABILITY FOR ONCE! Youve already promised it George âi promise i will make more time for you darling i just have to get through this monthâ that was four months ago.â âSo youre giving me an ultimatum?!â He yells âno George. Im giving you space to figure out what you actually want in life because the way its been going its sure as hell not me. I cant do this anymore.â âwhat are you saying Y/nâ he huffed âim saying to Look at me and honestly tell me that youre not seeing someone elseâ you wiped the tears off your face âY/n⊠are you saying you think id cheat on you?â He asked ludicrously âBaby⊠thats⊠thats notâ âwhat am i supposed to think! Youre never home anymore George! I know. I know the shop comes first. But i⊠if you wanted to break up with me all you had to do was say soâ âyoure jumping to conclusions y/n! Youre putting words in my mouth! And assuming things that arent true!â he rolled his eyes âam i? Am i really? When was the last time you came home. When was the last time you kissed me because i cant remember. When was the last time that you told me you loved me? The last time you wanted to even touch me?â He looked down lost in thought âthank you. For your time. But seeing as youre busy and dead set in making me feel worse, unwanted, and worthless. Im going home. I hope you enjoy your dinner. Its your favorite i just made it because i missed you. I hope you dont mind.â he looks at you he reaches for your wrist âweâll talk when you get home yeah George i know!â You yelled ripping your arm out of his grasp âsee you in three fucking months!â You yelled as you grabbed your wand flashing out
he felt guilt for snapping at you he wanted to chase after you but he didnt he just rubbed over his face in frustration. You understood. You did but it still hurt. disapperating back to your flat you called Hermione sobbing a few minutes later he Flooed back into the flat needed to make sure you were okay. Your loud sobbing could be heard from the living room as he stepped out âi didnt mean to bother him.. i just wanted to be with him at some point tomorrow was that so bad of me? Is it so bad that i want to see him at least once every thirty eight hours or To request his attention?â She spoke into her phone âall i wanted for my birthday this year was for my boyfriend to spend some time with me. I dont want presents or a party at all. No lavish gifts just spoil me with attention love and kisses. All I wanted was was his time and attention like before thats enough i didnt mean to piss him off MioneâŠâ she sniffled âhes never yelled at me like that before weâve never fought like that at all! We yelled at eachother and i hated it. Its just like my aunt and uncle Dursley it brought me back to privet drive. this is exactly what i didnt want! i mean yeah. Weâve fought but hes never yelled. I froze⊠and yelled back he didnt even tell me i love you too. He just stared blankly at me and said âweâll talk when i get homeâ like hes home every night he hasnt been in our bed for two months he comes home to shower thats it! Im lucky if i see him before he pops back off!â she started to cry harder hurt hit him as he listened through the door âdo you think theirs another woman?â You sniffle âmaybe heâs found someone whoâs worth the effort and its not meâ you sobbed âwhen i asked he dismissed it like i offended him and he got so defensive about it it makes me think that heâs gone back to Angieâ he was about to open the door âBut its fine. Im fine. Its just another day anyway. Iâll just watch movies alone. Again i called off of work i dont think i can work like thisâ she sobbed into the phone âi mean i know my department in the ministry doesnt pay well i know but i love it it makes me feel like im actually making a difference i dont want him to fall behind because he takes care of me so i can do what i love but three hours tops. Thats all i asked i asked for three hours three hours of his undivided attentionâ she sniffled âno no. You and Harry dont have to come over, im sorry i ruined your date and dropping everything to listen to me rant. its fine im not up for company anyway. I just wanted him. Hes all ive ever wanted and dreamed about.â You sniffled as his grip loosened on the guest bedroom door âits just that for once i wish i was a priority, im fine with being an option⊠i know he works hard, and heâs stressed and things are hard right now one day. One day him to myself i havent asked for anything in months i pick up the slack at home. He leaves the house in shambles and i cook and clean when i get off tuck him in when he faceplants on the bed exhausted Mione he hasnt touched me since the baby was born and Fred went on Paternity leave he hardly even looks at me when hes home i feel so useless its like im invisibleâ she sighs out âi know heâs busy Mione but its been almost seven months since hes touched me or even looked at me! And when i try to talk tâim he gets snippy! Its like he doesnt remember me. Like im so insignificant that its easy to forget. Maybe I should just leaveâŠ. Maybe its over between us and he just hasnt found the right words to tell me that heâs fallen in love with another girl and hes.. hes just stuck with me. Ive moved into the guest bedroom im giving him space to figure out what he wants because i cant do this i really cant i dont know if im just being insecure or if i actually do have something to be worried about. i dont even think heâd notice if i just. Moved out completelyâ you let out sob after sob
âit would make it a little better if i knew where we stood if he still wants me the way he did when he promised me kids and a wedding, im just still his annoying clingy girlfriend that he just kicked out of his offic e!â âYou can come stay with Harry and i for a while if you want tooâ George heard Mioneâs voice on the other end of the line âi cant. I cant leave him, hes still my one and i⊠I love him⊠i just needed to rant its not all bad, hes sweet and kind i just have to get through this paternity leave and hopefully things will be betterâ you sniffled âi just miss the man i fell in love with i havent seen him in a whileâ your voice broke âdo you want Harry to talk to George? I canâŠâ âNo Mione itâll only make it worseâ you cried âi need to get to bed. Call you in the morning?â Your voice cracked âare you sure you dont want me to come over âim sure Miaâ âif you dont call me by 11. In coming over. To check on you weâll eat icecream and cry together.â after your phone call you laid on the bed sobbing with your knees to your chest
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WHUMPTOBER 2023 - 02: âIâll Call Out Your Name, but You Wonât Call Back.â
Whumptober 2023 Navigation Post
Thermometer | Delirium | âThey don't care about you.â
Wow I'm a dumbass LOL, you see, I MEANT to have a rough limit of 0.5k, but here we are, 4 times that.
Regardless, I had a lot of fun with this one, and it wrote so easily once I changed up what caused the delirium.
This takes place roughly one year before Shifting Phases, Pete is 17 here and is suffering a very weird symtpom of moon deprivation... :)
CONTENT and WARNINGS: Nonhuman whumpee, impaired awareness, referenced/implied childhood trauma (not described)
wc: ~2k
WHERE ARE YOU?
Peteâs Perspective
Pete should have been safe.
As soon as he got the dates for the big exam, he checked the calendar. It was a Final, one of several across each of his subjects for him to pass before he would graduate and proceed with his post-schooling courses. His first fear was that it was the day after a full moon. The Final was for Essay and Literature, one of the core subjects where a pass was required to graduate at all. With such an important exam coming up, Pete nearly collapsed with relief when he found the full-moon fell on a night two weeks away.
For once, everything seemed to be working out; he was finally in The Powersâ favours. He was tired, of course, but the preparational classes his school ran were all making sense; he even managed to retain most of the content where heâd failed to take notes; and heâd got an early start.
Hunched over a desk layered with pages and printouts underneath open novels and textbooks, Pete worked studiously to prepare against a growing mental static until the sky turned orange, red, and then fell dark.
Slowly, the words began to sway and swim on the pages. It was getting hard to focus. Blinking, Pete leaned back in his chair and sipped from the luke-warm cup of tea Ma had left him, curling his toes in his slippers, and massaged his temple with his free hand. It was as if the darkening sky had draped a blanket of tiredness over his body; cold, heavy, and uncomfortable. It bogged down his thoughts.
Maybe Iâve studied too much, he thought idly, cracking open an eye.
He set his tea back on the desk and looked down on his work only to find the words that he had just written foreign and difficult to understand.
What had he been studying...?
Oh, right, it was...
What was it...?
Whatever it was, it felt important, he had to press on.
Pete tried to take more notes, but found he had nothing to write. Anything was better than nothing, so he soldiered on, all that left his pen was a mishmash of different letters. They looked right, but something seemed wrong. Pete couldnât work out what, but it made his heart pound.
He leaned back again, groaning.
The movement made his stomach turn and his head spin. His body followed the loll of his head and he slouched further into his chair, dimly staring at his surroundings.
Something was wrong, he could feel it. Nothing looked right.
âWhy...? Itâs wrong, why?â he mumbled, unable to hear the way he mangled the words.
It was wrong.
It wasnât his home, wasnât his room. Something was just wrong with it all. Where is the moon...? he found himself wondering. It shouldâve been there, shining onto him, making everything okay. It shouldâve been there.
But it wasnât.
A call rose from somewhere. The word sounded familiar.
He rose from the chair, work forgotten, and padded to a door and left the room. There were stairs just across from him, and that strange call came again, drifting up the flights; âHey, Pete! Tea!â it said, and it continued on, but the words bounced off his mind.
As Pete descended the stairs, he felt he was supposed to be afraid.
Why did he need to be afraid? He didnât understand that instinct until he reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the voice to a different room, lined with cupboards.
An older woman with curly blonde hair and a soft white cloth draped over her shoulders brightened at his approach, and pushed something with rising white curls toward him. It made a clattering sound as it went. She smiled, but something didnât feel right, it felt wrong, wrong enough to make his heart squeeze itself in his chest.
Something in her face changed, she wanted to know something. She wanted something from him. Why was he here with her? He should be with Ma, not this woman.
He felt his brow crease furtherâhad it been creased the whole time? â and he took a step back for every step she took toward him.
âPete...?â she asked in his maâs voice, âAre you feeling alright? Is something wrong?â
Pete didnât like those probing questions, he shouldnât answer them. She shouldnât ask him. They werenât safe.
He wasnât safe
âPete?â
He frowned. That was not his name, not his name.
Something beeped from the room lined with cupboards, and a humming sound ceased. What was that...? Pete craned his neck to find the source of the sound, and while he was distracted, the woman covered the distance between him and took his hand, saying something.
Pete jumped with fright, a yelp escaping him, and tore his hand from hers. He curled his lip in the beginnings of a snarl. âWho a-are ye,â he half-hissed, âk-keep yerâyer hands off.â
From the way she looked at him, wide eyed, mouth slightly agape, something was wrong with the way he spoke. The words didnât feel right in his mouth either, and that frightened him.
The woman frowned deeper, saying something in a questioning tone before rushing away and reappearing before he could think to turn and run instead of stumbling backward down the long part of the room.
In her delicate, tanned hands was a long, white object with a tapered body and a blunt metal tip.
She tried to get close again, but he wouldnât let her. Close was dangerous, no matter how much good she thought she was going to do. It wouldnât be good for either of them; especially not him.
Why?
It doesnât matter, he thought, eyes darting between the stairs, outside, and soft, comfortable-looking furniture until he found another door. He couldnât let her touch him, not when everything in him screamed to keep her away, and so he shoved her hands down from his shoulders and arms and ran.
Outside was past that door; he could see the darkness of night illuminated by streetlamps, tantalisingly close. The moon was outside. If he got out, he could get away from this unfamiliar woman and this unfamiliar place, heâd be safe, and the moon would shine down on him with its soft, pale light, and everything would be okay.
He had to get outside.
He had to find the moon and make sure it was still there; he wanted so badly to feel okay.
Before Pete realised, the cold brass of the doorknob was pressed into the skin of his hands. It felt like the crisp night air.
He needed it.
He cried in frustration when it stubbornly resisted his weak, shaking grip, and the fumbling turn of his wrist, refusing to set him free from the foreign walls which shrunk down on him each second he struggled. And the woman, she was fast catching up, sounding concerned as if he were her child. He was scared, he wouldnât be scared of his own mother, she couldnât be his mother.
Finally, Pete bumped the doorâs deadlock and the door released, finally letting him escape the stifling confines of the womanâs home and into the fresh night air.
~*~
Kateâs Perspective
The second Pete appeared from the hall and cautiously approached her in the kitchen, Kate knew something was wrong.
Her Pete always came down with a soft smile on those handsome features, thanking her for whichever snacks or tea she brewed for him during his study. Tonight, he looked tired and gaunt with deep shadows under those usually bright blue eyes, and suspicion and confusion lined each small crease that formed along the furrow of his brow.
Was he sick? Tired? Was he finally succumbing to the overwhelming pressure the school put on him to succeed?
âPete?â she asked, âAre you feeling alright? Is something wrong?â
He simply stared at her, turning his head slightly as if intimidated. Kate rounded the peninsula and approached, but for each step toward him, he took a step back.
This just wasnât like him; he had acted this way only a handful of times after heâd settled into her home all those years ago, she couldnât blame him for having such episodes. For such a small child to witness a horror like that was a true tragedy, and though his mind had seemingly locked up those memories, sometimes, they resurfaced. In recent years, it began to look slightly different, maybe even more severe.
Was that what this was? Another episode of his mind trying and failing to comprehend what he saw as a child? Heâd always avoided her offers of getting him help. Maybe she should be firmer before itâs too late.
He was still staring, guard up.
âPete...?â
A small spark of hostility flickered in those shadowy eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared when the microwave beeped and turned off, drawing her sonâs attention.
Kate took the oppourtunity to move closer, picking up his hand and pressing her palm into his. His hand was delicate in hers, chilly and fine, and shaking. In her softest voice, she said, âYou can tell me whatâs going on, Iâm always here if you need, okay? Is it about that night?â
In a delayed reaction, Pete yelped and tore his hand away as if burned, curling his lip and snarling.
Kateâs heart stopped. Those wild eyes, those too-sharp teeth... in that split second, they made him look the perfect, terrifying picture of something else entirely.
Slowly, his gaze shifted into one of fear that passed straight through her. Even the heavy, panting breaths he took seemed full of confused fear. He didnât respond or even seem aware that she spoke to him again, telling him that sheâll take his temperature and put him to bed, and that if he was running a fever, sheâd help him with a tepid shower.
When she returned with a thermometer, Pete bolted for the door and cried when he couldnât get it to open, clumsily rattling the brass knob with the tremors that wracked his body. Hearing him sound like that broke her heart. Finally, the door opened, and he ran down the entryway stairs.
âPete! Slow down, whatâs wrong?? Please, talk to me!â Kate called, hurrying after him, but it was to late. There mustâve been a light rain at some point this evening because the pavers gleamed with a thin layer of ice that Pete didnât notice until his slippers slipped, yanking a leg out from under him, sending him crashing down the rest of the stairs.
He could do little more than turn his head and let out a winded whine on the path where he came to a stop. He seemed to be searching for something, but couldnât find it. His eyes flicked over Kate and the terrace, but it served only to worsen his confusion; he didn't recognise her at all. He tried to pick himself back up, but each attempt ended in misery and a thud. His eyes glistened with tears, and he sobbed brokenly; the only discernible parts were about being lost, and then he quieted as a distraught daze crept over him.
âOh Pete,â Kate murmured, carefully descending the slippery stairs to where her son laid, âYouâre alright, youâre home, letâs get you back inside.â
He didnât resist when she took his hand and pressed the back of her own to his forehead, only whimpering about something only he could understand.
âNo fever, but you feel a little chilly. Letâs get you to bed and warm you up, my sweet. Iâll make sure you get an exemption from the exam tomorrow.â
It was slow going, but Pete seemed to register a few of her words, she hoped, and the small movement of his head looked like a vacant nod. Thankfully, he cooperated, allowing Kate to lend her support and balance to him and walk him back into their home and up to bed where she laid him gently to recover. With her son tucked in and laid an extra blanket over his doona, Kate pressed a kiss to his forehead and switched off the desk lamp, leaving the moonless night to shroud the room in darkness.
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#whumptober 2023#no.2#i'll call out your name but you won't call back#thermometer#delirium#OC#writing#whump#whump writing#emc's writing#Pete Spencer#original whump#nonhuman whumpee#nonhuman whump#oc whump#Kate Spencer
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Fate Be Changed
Chapter 2: Different Journeys On The Same Path
First chapter | Last chapter | Next chapter
Authorâs note: Again, just to let you all know, the story takes place in the early 2000s. So itâs different from now (2024). Also this chapter will be in different POVs (mostly Dianeâs), but the next chapter will be in Herbert's, Moe's and Websâ POVs
Notice/warnings:Â food/eating, sleepy, passing out, running away
âȘâȘâȘ
17 Years later
2000, June 10th.
A now 23 year old Diane was now a college student, Senior year living alone in an apartment that she had paid herself for the last three years.
She just got back from night job and cram night school. She began taking off her shoes and getting undressed, getting cleaned up, got into her pajamas and checked her apron and purse to see how much money she had and went into her room, going to her savings drawer where she separated her savings. One for rent and food. The other is her chance to get into her Future undergraduate school; Howard University for political science, with her submission for acceptance already prepared in place and ready.
âTips were hard but every penny counts.â she reminded herself. Then she looked at the calendar and saw that graduation was in a week. âAnd one more week until graduation.â Diane thought after looking at the calendar. She got a pen and drew a little picture of a graduation cap and a pin on the graduation date.
But then she'd look at the portrait of inspiration she made herself, with her parents and family.
Including one of them, hope the photos of her grandparents and great-grandma that was given to her years ago
"Don't worry guys." she said, did give a kiss with her finger on each of the portraits "I will make you all proud."
Then Diane slowly walked over to her bed and plopped onto the bed with a lot of books of her studies scattered around it, giving herself a quick snooze.
Then her digital alarm went off.
Diane groaned loudly as she woke up and then she used her foot to turn off her alarm.
Diane slowly got up, yawning loudly as she stretched. She looked at the calendar, saw it was a weekend. So, no school for her today and just a full day of work.
Then she got her pajamas off, only her undergarments on as she looked at her closet.
"Good night, Planned Parenthood receptionist. Good morning, waitress at Coles." Daine said as she opened her closet.
She found her uniform for her day restaurant and put it on.
She began getting some toast, a banana, and an already made milk coffee container to go for breakfast before rushing her way to the bus stop where was heading to work.
She looked around the city of Los Angeles through her window while waiting for her stop. She began listening to some music from her walkman and read a magazine, normally glancing up to see her stop.
The city has changed a lot.Â
Some buildings got bigger, some places were taken down to build new ones, but it was the same LA to her.
A man tried to talk to her before the bus got to her stop. She began getting off before he could ask.
Diane rushed over to Coles and started to work.Â
She was one of the best hard workers, trying to give out as much as she can despite having a not-so-great chef as a boss.
ââ
Near the city's market, there was a person walking by a stand of Mr. Marmalade, a short man with well kept hair and fine clothing.
âAh, hello.â Marmalade calling out to the person, smiling.
âOh, hey.â The person said, looking at him.
 Marmalade offered a seat in front of the stand and the person sitting down.
"I see that you need some guidance." Marmalade said in a kind look and sweet voice.
The person was surprised by that and said, âWell yeah, I'm new to the area. I came from Idaho and I'm not used to the climate here or know anyone there⊠I really want to meet people but⊠Iâm nervous.â
Marmalade hummed softly and nodded. âI have something for that.â he said, getting out of his seat and getting something out of a box.
Marmalade took a potion from the box and set it on the table. âThis will help you.â
He gave it to the person and the person drank it after giving him a few dollars. The person thanked him before leaving.
Marmalade smiled sinfully as he hid to see the results while his stand faded away when no one was looking.
The person's memories started changing when the person came by.
Then some dust on another person's memory as well when the person walks by them.Â
Before the two people walked farther, they collapsed onto the ground, causing a panic.
âIt worked.' Marmalade thought as he exited the market, putting the money in his pocket when he saw them both collapsed.
Marmalade noticed Ruby, who was now grown up, getting out of a shop with a new paper in her hands as she went to a bench, waiting for her ride, which was Pam.
Marmalade walked over to her. âExcuse me, young lady.â he called out, getting her attention.
"Hey, I'm just waiting for a friend to pick me up." Ruby said, looking at him.
Marmalade hummed and nodded. âI see but I noticed that you have a newspaper. I was wondering if I could see the headline, if you donât mind.â he said, pointing at the newspaper.
Ruby nodded and handed him the newspaper. âThe headline is interesting.â the young woman said as Marmalade took it.
'The rich son of Vinnie Wolf missing'
Vincent Wolf, the owner of the well known Vinnie Motor shop, reported that his son, Mason âMoeâ Wolf, is missing.Â
Police are already looking for the young man and Vincent is offering $1000 for whoever finds him.
Vincentâs whereabouts of his son is still a mystery and Mason has been gone for a month after the engagement announcement and introduction of the debutante daughter of the oil tycoon, Mary OâCross.
As of this moment, there's no signs of Mason yet.
âThat is interesting.â Marmalade hummed and handed the paper back to Ruby.
The young woman nodded and took the paper back from the short man.
Then there was now a honk from a car driving up to the curb, it was Pam.
âNice talking with you.â Ruby said, getting up and going over to the car to get in when the car stopped.
Marmalade nodded as he went to an alleyway and then his shadow appeared on the wall when he was out of sight.
Taking the money out and checking it, Marmalade couldnât help but think about the newspaper.
âWe should let the others know that we might get a new soul soon. Maybe two or more, if weâre lucky.â Marmalade said to his shadow, a dark smile on his face.
â
Around downtown, at the train station, a young man with tan skin just got off a train with another man and a woman, and all of them were in jackets.
The young man had just put on sunglasses and the other man noticed.
âMoe, itâs ok. You donât need to wear them.â the other man said, about to get the sunglasses off of Moe.
Moe put a hand over the hand and said, âYou donât know if it got to the news, Herbert. If they see us, they'll report us!â
"Well we might need to wear something in order to blend in before we meet up with a couple of my friends from here, just in case" the woman said, looking at both of them.
The two men nodded.
Luckily they packed their bags before leaving.
Of course they noticed some people walking out of the station.
"We should get into the crowd." The woman said, pointing at the crowd. âAlso, we need change.â
"Good idea, Webs." Moe said, getting out a disguise that he packed just in case.Â
He went to the restroom to change with Herbert.
Moe got changed into a white dress shirt, matching white suit jacket and pants, bucking his belt, and put on his new gray socks and brown dress shoes for the thrift shop fromÂ
Herbert got on a Hawaii shirt, tan khaki pants, and a bucket hat.
They meet up Webs after changing.
Webs got a black hoodie from her backpack and she put it on with the hood up.
They all got some sunglasses to hide in the crowd as the three left the train station with their bags, unaware not that someone was following them.
â
Pam and Ruby picked up Emily Lou at the Hogwild penthouse.
Emily Lou came out and walked over to them.
âHey, Emily!â they both said, waving at Emily Lou.
âHey Pam! Hey Ruby!â Emily Lou said, waving back as she got to the car and got inside.
They began talking about the news of the newspaper as they went to Coleâs.
â
Diane went outside to give some orders and get some dirty dishes when a woman bumped into her.
âOh! I am so sorry!â the woman said in worry.Â
"No, no, it's fine." Diane reassured the woman, looking at her.
Diane didnât know what she was feeling but it was different.
They began touching hands for a moment as they looked at each other.
âUm⊠Webs?â a man called out to the woman.Â
That made both women jump and they step away from each other.
Diane looked to see two men, who might be the womanâs friends. One of the men was holding a fast food bag while the other had a duffle bag.
Diane got herself back on track by shaking her head, rolling her eyes and she went back inside as the woman went walking with the two men.
Diane began doing more work and getting more orders.
"Order up!" one of the chefs called out as Diane got the plates.
"- Another coffee here!" a patertin ordered as Diane walked by.
âComing right up.â she told the patertin as she continued to go to the kitchen to put the dishes in the tub and get the next meal.
As Diane walks and gives out the meals and refills the cup of coffee for the patertin, she notices her two friends came in.
"Hey, Diane!" Called Joy, a tan-skinned goth with a black t-shirt and black ripped jeans, black hair with purple highlights on her short hair. With Joy was Rhonda, a short woman with blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail, black t-shirt with a white smiley face on it.
"Hey, Joy! Hey Rhodona!" Diane said, waving at them.
The two went to a table as Diane went to them.
"How's work going?" Joy asked as Diane got to them.
âItâs good.â Diane answered, smiling.
âThatâs good.â Joy hummed softly, nodding a bit.
"Hey, we wanted to ask you something. It's going to be one week until graduation. We were thinking of a trip to Las Vegas, you know, to end our college era. You want to come?" Rhonda asked, knowing sometimes to be the quiet type.
"Come on, Diane. You could use a little hard. You deserve a break every once in a while like the last couple years." Joy added with a chuckle.
Diane sighed softly as she did her work. "I would love to, but no thanks. Besides Iâm gonnaâŠâ Diane said but stopped when she noticed a messy kid. âYou need a napkin, sweetheart?â she asked as she handed a napkin to the kid before she continued explaining as she served. âIâm gonna work a double shift tonightâŠâ Then she saw a woman with her third Bloody Mary coffee. âHere you are, That's enough Bloody Mary for you and here's your Belgian Waffles."
Then Diane went to her friends. âYou know, so IâŠâ Diane started as she went back to the two young women.
"âSo, you can save for your Future political career.â I know, I know.â Joy interrupted, sighing. âGirl! All you ever do is work and study to the extreme like that Alexander Hamilton guy!"
Rhonda punches Joy in the shoulder, making the goth exclaim in pain, while Diane frowns sadly at them.
"Order up!" one of the chefs shouted.
"Maybe next time." Diane said to her two friends, a sad smile on her face.
âOk.â Rhonda said, nodding as Diane left their table to get other orders and dishes.
Diane went to the kitchen area, gave out the orders that she wrote down to the chefs, and then started to get some food for the waiting customers.
âWere you talking about your dream issues again?â one of the chefs asked as Diane filled up a cup of coffee.
"Yeah, where I get a chance to study how to be a good politician in DC." Diane said, looking at the chef with a deadpan look and noticing that the eggs were burning. "Also, Arron, your eggs are burning.â
Chef Arron started to laugh as he took care of the eggs and flipped them to cook evenly. âYou are NEVER gonna get enough for that big opportunity.âÂ
âIâm getting close.â Diane said, getting the meals on her serving tray.
âYeah? How close?â Aaron asked, a smug look on his face.
Diane, not wanting to tell him, gave him a glare and asked with sass, âWhere are my pancakes?â
Arron laughed more as he gave her the plate of pancakes. âYour chances of getting that place is as if pigs could fly!â he laughed as Diane rolled her eyes and went to serve the meals.
â
Ruby, Emily Lou, and Pam got to the restaurant.Â
Ruby and Pam were the firsts to go inside while Emily fixed her makeup.
"Good morning, Diane!' Pam and Ruby said as they went to the same table as Joy and Rhonda were.
"Good morning, girls!" Diane exclaimed, waving at them as she went to them with a few plates.
âCongratulations on getting your helicopter license, Pam." Diane said, walking over with a plate.
âCaught me completely by surprise ⊠for the fifth year in a row. Guess all these practices have finally paid off." Pam said, " Now, how about I celebrate with-âÂ
âBeignets? Got a fresh batch just waiting for you.â Diane said, putting a plate of beignets. Then she raise a finger to her lips and whispers, âShush, don't tell my bossâ
Diane had been a bit of a rule breaker since high school and college, but with good intentionsÂ
Pam nodded and the young women at the table laughed softly.
âThank you, you read my mind.â Pam said, smiling at Diane, who was about to get back to the kitchen.
â
Then the front door swung open and in came Emily Lou in big and loud fashion and personality. âOH DIA!â Emily Lou shouted loudly, which made everyone in the restaurant jump and look at her.
Emily Lou ignored the staring eyes on her as she ran to Diane and spun her a bit. âDia! Dia! Did ya hear the news?â she asked excitedly as she went to the others and sat down in her seat.
âHey, Emily, what is it?â Diane asked, shaking her head to make the room stop spinning for a bit.
"Did you get the news?" Ruby asked, getting a newspaper out.
Diane went to Helen, one of the other waitresses, and asked, âHey, could you take care of my tables for me, please?â
Helen looked at her and nodded. âSure.â
Diane smiled and got another two plates of beignets before talking over to her friends.
"Didn't have a chance to read it this morning." Joy said, shaking her head. âI was up all night trying to finish my poetry for the poetry club and study for my final science exam before graduating. Thatâs also why Iâm having some black coffee this morningâ
Rhonda shook her head too. âI was up practicing my wrestling skills for my wrestling club.â she said before going quiet and grabbing a beignet.
"I had my night job and was at my night class." Diane said when she got to the table. âSo, I had a very long night and didnât get a lot of sleep.â
âAw⊠I feel sorry for you.â Ruby said, sounding sad.
âDon't worry. It'll all be worth it soon And all my efforts are finally gonna pay off.â Diane said as she placed the two plates down on the table before grabbing an empty seat. "So, what's the big deal on the news today?"
Emily Lou and Pam looked at Ruby as she pulled out a newspaper and put it on the table.Â
All of the young women at the table looked at it.
âMason Wolf, son of The owner of Vinnie Motor shop; Vincent Wolf, is missing.â Ruby said, pointing at the headline on paper.
"Oh?" Diane asked, tilting her head a bit while she fixed her uniform a bit before fixing her curly hair in the tight bun.
âYeah. Oh! And also, thereâs a big money count for whoever finds him.â Ruby said with a chuckle, taking a beignet from a plate.
"Really?!" Joy asked excitedly and laughed, also getting a beignet. "That's probably begging to find him!"
Rhodda nodded with a big smile, already eating one of the beignets.
Diane rolled her eyes in disappointment. "That man probably ran away from his problems." she said sarcastically, shaking her head in disappointment. âLike what is his problem anyway?â
"That's the thing. No one knows why he ran away." Pam said after eating the beignets from the first plate.
"Well actually, it said there's no reason or whereabouts of that man or why he ran away." Ruby corrected, pointing at the paper again and looking at it. "Just says that he ran away, police are looking for him, thereâs even the 1000 dollar reward for anyone who found him, and the engagement-"
"What?" Diane asked, get the newspaper off the table to quickly read and look at it.
It does mention the things that Ruby said. It also shows a picture of Vincent on the left and a black silhouette of his son on the right with a question mark on it.
Diane took in a breath and calmed down. "But for now we should stay focused on what is important, which is our future." Diane said, putting the paper down on the table.
âLike you going into government and me planning to be a cop, for a couple of examples,.â Ruby said, smiling softly.
"Oh! And letâs not forget, focusing on the party coming up tonight." Emily Lou said. "Which only the university students can come to. It could be like big pot luck."
The other young women cheered, except for Diane.
Diane looked at Emily Lou in a deadpan look. âEmilyâŠâ she started, crossing her arms across her chest. âIâm working a double shift tonight. So, that means I wonât be able to go tonight-â
Diane was cut off by Emily Lou shoving a beignet in her mouth. As Diane chewed it, Emily Lou got some money out of her purse.Â
âWhatâs this?â Diane asked after chewing, pointing at the money.
âItâs money. Itâs for you. Here.â Emily Lou said, smiling softly at her as she handed it to her. âWould this cover the meal, the potluck, and big tip?â
Diane's eyes lid up in excitement as she took the money and looked at it. She began to feel excited because the money was enough to achieve her goals.
âThis is it!â Diane exclaimed happily. "Washington and politics, here I come!"
The young women cheered excitedly while everyone looked at them, including chef Arron, who was in shock.
ââ
Little did Diane know that Marmalade was in the restaurant hearing the whole thing, making him smile with his shadow.
âOh, yes⊠Looks like we have a possible soul or work partner.â Marmalade whispered to his shadow.
Then his shadow went back being a shadow as a waitress walked over to him.
âHello, sir.â the waitress said with a tired smile.
âHello.â Marmalade said, smiled at the waitress before ordering some food.
â
Diane was walking out after her shift was done. She went to the docks to see a place that she planned to have after studying at DC. She was looking at the abandoned place as she arrived in front of the place.
Then she jumped when she heard two voices from behind her.
"Looks like Ms. President or Ms. Senator is getting a head start where they campaign for a building." one voice said.
âOr Ms. Governor. Depending on which she goes into.â the other said.
Diane turned around to see both of her parents. âMom. Dad.â she said, smiling at them.
Her parents had changed a bit over the years, with them now being around 42 years old. They had a couple of wrinkles, their hair started showing its age with a few white and gray streaks (After many years of hard work). Margaret's hair had grown a little but was tied in a braid, only reaching to her shoulders. Owen, who recently had gotten bone cancer and is trying treatment to get better, was in a wheelchair.
Apparently age may sometimes look kind to them.
Diane walked over to them and hugged them.
"Just came to see our little girl on break from work for today." Margaret said during the hug.
Diane smiled softly at them. âCan you believe it?â she asked, looking at her parents and the building.Â
"Yeah, imagine living like this as a politician after years of hard work." Owen said, looking at the building.
By then the owner of the building came up and saw the family.Â
âOh hello! Are you here about the building?â the owner asked, walking over to them. âLet me guess, the previous owner's family?â
Diane and her parents looked over as the owner said, âJust remind you. This quite collects dust over the years no one has nobody ever bought it, But hopefully the buyers will come. But it would be quite helpful to get this place cleaned up.â
The family looked at each other before looking at the owner, knowing the place used to be in their family.
Dinae nodded. âYes. Could we go inside, please?â
The owner lets out a sigh and begins sending a timer.
âYou got 15 minutes, I got some buyers about to come and check out this place today.â the owner said to them, unlocking the door.
The family nodded as Diane opened the door to reveal an old dusty looking place, almost similar to the White House.
Diane laughs as she runs in, her mind imaging where things will be, while her parents slowly follow her in.Â
âJust look at this place!â Diane exclaimed excitedly. âDonât you just want to cry?â
âYesâŠâ both parents said, a bit of worriedness and sadness in their voices as they went over to her.
"I could remind you that your maternal grandparents, my parents, once owned the place before their deaths." Margaret said, looking at the old place.
âI remember.â Diane said, smiling softly at her and nodding. Diane began pointing and imagining new and exciting pieces to the place and walking around the place.
"Iâm sure, this place is gonna be just wonderful." Margaret said with a smile before sighing sadly. "But itâs a shame youâre working so hard.â
Diane looked at her parents. âBut how could I stop now when Iâm so close and also helping you two with the medical expenses? I have to make sure that all of the hard work means something.â she said, power in her voice.
"Diane!â Owen exclaimed, power in his voice that made Diane go quiet as she looked at him.
âOur family may not get the ambition we had but we have something better. We have love.â Owen said, holding his daughterâs hand. âAnd thatâs all we want for you, sweetheart.â
Diane nodded in understanding and sighed softly. "Look, I understand that you're worried about me, but I just need to work my way⊠Iâm almost there." Diane said to comfort her parents. Then she smiled softly and added with a chuckle, âPlus⊠I don't have time for romance, anyways.â
Her parents started to chuckle. âHow long are we talking about?â both parents asked.
Diane shrugged again and all the three started to laugh.Â
They looked around for a bit before they left the place, closing the doors and letting the owner know that they were done looking around.
#Fate Be Changed#the bad guys#diane foxington#professor marmalade#Rupert Marmalade#mr wolf#mr. wolf#moe wolf#mr snake#mr. snake#herbert snake#ms tarantula#ms. tarantula#Stefaine tarantula#webs#ruby redd#pam kitty cat#emily lou hogwild#joy doom#rhonda shortfuse#mr. cuddles#the bad guys au#the bad guys fic#Margaret Foxington#Owen Foxington
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Copycat: Cryptomnesia â(Marvel Fem!Oc)
A/N:Â Guys the way I struggled with the last chapters of this book, was a herculean task, such a shitshow I can't believe I got it to work đ -Danny
Words:Â 2,300
Phase Five Masterlist
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
xxix:Â Pest Control
Cat and Harley sat there staring at the Stark tech, both with the same frown.
"What now?"
The young man looked at her with incredulity. "Call Spider-man!"
"So he calls me a thief?" Cat scoffed. "No, thank you!"
"If you tell him about the girlâ"
"He'll say I 'endangered' a child."
"Why do you use quotations there?" Harley scowled at her. "You did."
"The chipmunk stayed as a lookout while I did all the heavy lifting. I'm a responsible adult."
"No one buys that."
"That's not the point," Cat waved a hand dismissively. "We have this and my blaster, but we can't use them any time soon."
"Because Damage Control will know you did it, or they'll go after the girl again."
"I don't think Damage Control is the bad guy here," she said pensively, her index finger above her upper lip, "they're the fastest way to hear about the possible new mutants in the city, and Deever was informing someone else and trying to get them... for testing or slavery. I expect."
"There's something that's been bothering me since you told me what Kingpin said to you," Harley put the sunglasses away.
"What is it?"
"Smerdyakov told him about you?" He raised a brow. "It doesn't add up."
"What do you mean?"
"The Chameleon spent years not knowing what you could do after you escaped, you left the lab before recovering properly, right?"
"That's what Kurt's told me."
"So there's no way he would've known that you could mimic without touching, or teleport, or any of that. All of that you developed after you killed him."
"You're right," Cat frowned. "You think Fisk was lying?"
"Kingpin is no liar. He's a manipulator, but he never lies, that's what Matt says. And either way, how could he know Dmitri was the one who caught you the first time?"
She shook her head. "Well, Russo has been on the lookout for me, and that was years after I blew up the labs... Sharon found out about me after she got reinstated... so maybe Nat had added the full background to my files when I was in space?" Her phone buzzed, it was Kate. "Hang onâ Hi, princess, what do you need?"
"You haven't forgotten, right?"
Cat glanced at the calendar on Harley's desk. She was blank. "No?"
"Really?"
The young woman looked at his friend for help, Harley rolled his eyes and mouthed:
"Graduation!"
"You're graduating next week!"
"That's right! You guys are coming?"
"Harley might be busy, but Kurt will definitely make space for you! He's been dying to meet Jack anyway, wants to ask about his fencing techniques and whatnot."
"What about you?"
Cat silently begged Harley for help. Her friend only gave her a stern look as a reply.
"Have you told your mother?"
Kate sighed, unimpressed by her answer."She knows I'm graduating."
"But did youâ"
"She can't come, Cat."
"Kate..."
"I've had enough of her 'how are you gonna make a living'. I only want my friends and you with me that day."
My friends and you, she'd said. The mutant sighed. "It's your life..."
"Damn right," Kate stated. "Gotta go. I hope to see you there, Cat."
"Take care."
She hung up and looked at Harley. "Girlfriends, am I right?"
"Oh, don't say that word like you mean it in one way, when I know you're dying to use it for real," he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I'll try to go, but we should get the Pest under control before that, and you should give those glasses toâ"
"One problem at a time, Junior," Cat interrupted him. "In the meantimeâ" her phone began to ring again and she answered. "You fell and can't get up?"
"Sharon's been arrested," Bucky informed her. "We're questioning every person she had business with, turns out she's been giving away intel and weaponry like they're Halloween candy. Good job, kid."
"You should know better than to think I did it out of selflessness," Cat replied.
"Oh I don't think that, I just have manners," he scoffed.
"Well, I'll be perfectly lovely once you've done this one favor for me."
"What is it?"
"I think Sharon revealed my identity to a couple of people I rather not meet in this life."
"You want me to what, take care of 'em?"
"Would you do that for me?"
"I'm not your hitman," Bucky stated.
"Then don't offer it, asshole, I wasn't going to ask that anyway," Cat scowled. "Someone's been trying to hunt down the mutants in my area, so I want names and I want them soon."
"How do you know it's just the mutants?"
"Because Spider-man's still out there and so is Daredevil. If this was about heroes, they would've been pestered and I would've heard from them already."
"I'll see what I can get you."
"Thanks. See? I can be polite too."
Bucky hung up and she sighed, pushing her curls back.
"Mouse."
"I'm here."
"We need Agent Deever's files," Harley got up and walked up to the door, opening it for her. "I need to know what she's up to."
"Why on earth would you bring that?"
"I didn't bring it! Jack gave it to me just now and I have nowhere to put it!" Kurt held onto the sword.
"Teleport that thing to your house!" Harley scolded him. "They'll kick you out of the ceremony if you have that with you!"
"Fine!" Nightcrawler vanished in a cloud of smoke only to come back two seconds later. "You guys suck."
"Why is Jack giving you swords?"
"We practice fencing on the weekends and he's got too many so he's giving me some."
"That only leaves me with more questions," said Harley.
"Guys! Guys!" Kate had her gown on and the hat tucked under one arm. Jack was right behind her. "I'm so glad you could make it!"
The sight of her in the gown made Cat feel proud, for some reason. She hadn't been there to see her struggle through college, of course, but she reminded her of the time when Pietro graduated from high school. It'd been a couple of tough months. She was happy to see her friends getting the things they most wanted.
Cat took off her sunglasses and opened her arms for a hug. "How ya doing, pretty?"
Kate hugged her briefly before looking at her with a giddy smile. "Guess who's here?"
The mutant tilted her head, not sure of wanting to be right. "Him?"
"The whole family."
"Wow, so it wasn't just holiday syndrome?" Cat joked.
"That is not a real thing and you know itâ hi Harley! Hi, Kurt!"
The boys congratulated her. Jack and Kurt quickly engaged in conversation while Harley, Kate, and Cat walked to their seats. Clint looked at the group and smiled amicably.
"If it isn't the heathen!"
"Hi, Pidgeon," Cat greeted the rest of his family. "Hi, everyone."
"Mr. Barton, a pleasure to meet you," Harley reached to shake hands.
"You're Stark's prodigy?" Barton eyed him with interest. "Heard you're almost as bright as Tony."
"Not even close."
"He's being modest," Cat patted his back.
"Okay, so you guys take a seat, the ceremony's about to start!" Kate said. "Cat, can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Oh?"
The young woman moved away from the rest.
"How's the plan going?"
"We still need some stuff."
"What about Kingpin?"
"He's still in jail and not talking."
"Okay, well, as soon as I'm able I'll help you outâ"
"You don't have to."
"No no no, it'll be good for my work experience," Kate insisted.
Cat snorted. "You're still set on becoming a detective?"
"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but your case is mindblowing and I'd love to stalk people for you."
"What an honor," she laughed. "Get your degree first, then we can talk about stalking."
Kate smiled at her before rushing back to the front, Cat went back to her seat between Clint and Harley, and the younger man nudged her arm.
"Everything okay?"
Cat opened her mouth to answer, she was about to reply, when she stopped and took an actual second to take it all in. She was with her best friends, one of her old mentors, and life was... moving.
She was stressed, she was sleeping little and waking abruptly every morning, but right at that moment, she was alright. Cat had to appreciate the little moments, just like Harley had advised her to.
"I'm happy for Kate," she admitted. "Looking forward to the party."
"Why? You don't even drink!"
She elbowed him playfully. "If there is one person on this earth that can have fun without alcohol, that's me."
"Debatable," Kurt replied from his seat.
"Shut up, Smurf."
"You know, Happy, just because I have strong arms doesn't mean you have to leave most of the shopping bags to me."
"You offered to help me!"
"I think you're taking revenge for all those years Tony did this to you," she left all the bags on the table. "Man, you buy too much food for someone who lives alone..."
"I like cooking for Morgan on the weekends, she eats a lot."
"Well, she's growing," Cat sighed. "Can you believe she's almost ten?"
"C'mon, we still have two years before that happens!"
"No wonder Pepper's retiring next year, time moves so fast..."
Happy looked at her beaming. "Just have to look at you to know it. You'll be what, twenty-four next October?"
Cat glanced at him. "Twenty-five."
"A whole decade since we met!" Happy said. "Do you remember how anxious you were about your clothes?" He pointed at her sunglasses and her battered jacket.
She laughed. "I have more pressing issues now, I fear. Sometimes I miss it, y'know? My worst enemy: other teenagers..."
"They were my biggest fear too, especially boys," he made a face. "You remember when I took you to some kid's house so he could help you study?"
"No," Cat blinked. "You did that?"
"Yeah! I remember being stressed the hell out about it."
"I have no memory of that," she smirked. "I put you through a lot, huh?"
"In the end, it was all worth it, you're my kid."
Cat patted his shoulder. "You're getting increasingly sappier as time goes on, old man. You gotta watch that or I'll catch you crying over a Hallmark movie next!"
Kate placed her stuff right next to the door. She looked around admiringly.
"I feel like I owe Jack my life right now," she sighed. "He restored everything! Look! I have an AC!"
Cat lingered at the threshold, Kate looked around for a little longer, then turned to her and smiled... but she didn't. The mutant was suddenly aware of a third presence. Cat looked away clearing her throat.
"I'll head to work."
"Oh."
"See you later."
Without waiting for a reply she closed the door. Looking to both sides of the hall she saw no one was there. She was sure she'd heard something though, Cat put on her sunglasses and walked out of the building.
As she walked down the street she felt it again. Cat looked for a place where she could corner this stranger, but nothing was useful, there were too many people around. She teleported at the first chance she got.
"Harley, I think someoneâ"
"There you are!" He was strangely enthusiastic. "You did it!"
"I... what?"
"Agent Deever!" Harley approached holding his tablet. "Sam and Bucky followed her into this building near New Jerseyâ it was a subterranean lab!"
Cat felt her blood run cold. "Were there any... any mutants?"
"No, it looked brand new. Bucky and Sam are looking into it but it seems there were no mutants in there yet."
"I should go see if I recognize any of the workers... I should call Miss Marvel..."
"It's not necessary, Cat. They confessed."
"What?"
"They confessed."
"Why?" Cat asked in annoyance. "This sounds wrong."
"You're just used to things not ending unless you blow somethingâ or someone up."
Cat hesitated. "I... I don't know. They said why are they hunting mutants?"
Harley's expression darkened. "Not really. But Sam's going to question Sharon again, see if he can get something newâ"
The young woman stared down at the tablet. "Sharon didn't do this."
"How do you know? She was the one with all the resources!"
"Yeah exactly, she even knew about me," Cat replied. "So if she really wanted a servant that badly, all she had to do was give me a call threatening to take you, or Kate, or even Yelena! This is not right, Harley."
"Perhaps she saw you working with Hawkeye and thought you'd be harder to convince now," Harley grabbed his tablet and tapped some things into it. "Guess what? One investor was found at the lab, he was supervising the whole thing."
He tapped on the screen and Mr. Harper's face projected in the middle of the desk.
"His wrinkly ass was angry because Pepper found you first, just like you said."
Cat looked at it in mild surprise. "Well, he won't be missed."
"You don't look happy," he pointed out. "What's going on?"
She wasn't sure, but it felt like there was a huge chunk of the story missing.
"Why mutants?" She insisted, shaking her head. "L.A. is packed with supers begging to be hiredâ why go through all this trouble? It's like they're trying to get a specific type of hero..."
Harley shrugged. "If I had to give a reason... considering how these men think, I'd say is because they tend to be outcasts. L.A. is packed with supers who have a roof over their heads, but mutants... they're considered freaks, most of them have tough lives, so it's easier to force them to obey without having to pay them."
Cat shook her head again. "This is almost a perfect reflection of how Dmitri's lab started, a stunt like this one takes so much time and money, it couldn't have been made so quickly and by someone who's on their first try..." Cat's insides twisted in dread, a memory jumped out of the back of her mind. "Sergei."
Before Harley could ask what she meant, her phone rang.
"H-Hello?" She answered.
"We got the creeps," Bucky told her. "Most of these weirdos are De Fontaine's old contacts from her time at Hydra, but she didn't build this place, and neither did Sharon. They got hired by a man, and they say he employed a 'mutant hunter' to bring their patientsâ"
"The guy that f-found us the first t-time," Cat said. "But we didn't call him a mutant hunter then."
"You know this guy?"
"Yes," Cat felt like throwing up. "He trained me."
Next Chapterâ>
Taglist.
@mikaelsonwhxrebaeâââââ @ieatpanicattacksforlunchâââââ @jesuswasnotawhitemanâââââ @siriuslysirius1107âââââ @greengarsstuffâââââ @itsyagirl01 @23victoriaâââââ @espressopatronum454âââââ @jkthinkstoomuch
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little venty post about grown adults who don't have their act together despite being 10+ years my senior, feel free to read if you're nosey!
so, i'm an intern at a school as part of my final year of my math teaching masters, and i have one traditional class to attend and do work for as part of writing my graduate thesis, so there are two primary mentors i work under: my mentor teacher and my professor
first, my professor: despite quite likely being old enough for retirement, and having the teaching experience to match, she still regularly forgets to give us key pieces of information (ie requirements for assignments) until right before we need them or even after that particular assignment was already due, and classes are just us guessing at what she wants us to say in discussions, often with a significant lack of context when she asks questions so we genuinely aren't sure what piece of information she wants us to be responding to, and then scolds us for not reading her mind when we don't respond "correctly" (which, all of us in her class are adults in our final years of our masters degrees)
this week's frustration is her sending us an article "you should already have", except it's not actually on our classroom platform at all; she was thoroughly condescending for absolutely no reason when she is actually factually incorrect about whether she has already given us this article or not
second, my mentor teacher, the far more long running thorn in my side: he's early middle aged, over ten years of teaching experience, and as far as i can tell he's perhaps spent all of those years coasting on the work of others and doing the bare minimum
he's actually taught me a lot about being confident despite chaos and making a lesson plan in 15 minutes instead of agonizing over every detail, but this results in lessons that focus on rote memorization and 'tricks' to get answers to problems, and often, he's the chaos
our school is fortunately fairly relaxed about following the district's guidelines on when to teach which topics, so long as all material in the standards gets taught at some point; this year our district has rolled out new standards for our subject, which is mostly the same standards with only a few added/removed/moved around on the calendar; alrighty, that could be annoying, but an experienced teacher could just review what they did for the previous years and make adjustments from there, right?
nope. he's as unprepared as a first year teacher, constantly having to throw together a lesson, figure out what order he's teaching something in, and cross reference with the other teacher of this same subject on what that instructor will be doing in his classroom that day
this has come to head now because i had to teach for six full weeks, all on my own with my own lesson plans; i'm a planner, so of course i looked up the standards we'd be covering approximately at this time (all students at my university are doing their six weeks at approximately the same time per our degree requirements), reviewed those standards with BOTH instructors, and spent all of winter break (outside of work) planning how i would teach them with slides, examples, connections to other subjects, activities, etc
first of all, despite sending him both my initial and updated slides for all six weeks in advance, my mentor teacher drops on me that he's NOT planning on teaching a topic we SPECIFICALLY talked about students needing to know to be ready for my unit, and eventually he did end up teaching half of it, but in a way that effectively added material to my unit, because it was too close to me teaching for him to give a test on it
second of all, three weeks into this six weeks he's suddenly telling me that i should probably have split up these standards into at least two units, and maybe more; again, he had my slides far in advance and had plenty of time to give me suggestions, but when i brought this up he sort of shrugged his shoulders like a goofy frat boy (and i was in a fraternity in undergrad) and admits yeah, he probably should have looked those over and thought about this sooner; I actually can't change my lesson plans at this point because i'm also collecting data for a research project for that professor i already complained about, and i need different classes to do a certain number of assignments to have enough data, and i won't get that if i throw a test with review time into the middle of my six weeks
third, and quite frankly most embarrassing for him, he's slowly panicking because our students are now ahead of his teacher bestie, so when i'm done teaching he won't be able to just crib off of the other instructor for all his lesson plans and assignments; i've already made suggestions for what he could do to stall for time until the other instructor catches up, but seriously, you just sit at your desk ALL DAY, doodling and shopping for car accessories and occasionally entering grades data while i teach, and now your all nervous because you might have to actually plan some lessons on your own???????
which, our final units for the course are even longer than the unit we're on, and, just like most schools, we finish at the end of may, and i finish teaching in mid march, so you have at best two months to teach AND test TWO units that are together of the same length as this six week unit, and you're upset about being AHEAD?????????
like i said, i have actually learned a lot from having him as my mentor, but lots of things i've learned have come from taking notes on what NOT to do instead of learning from what he does do
to cap all this complaining off, some positivity: i'm excited to have my own classroom and be able to prepare thoroughly with no external responsibilities (classes, other job, etc) for both teaching the material itself and managing the environment to support good learning habits for my students; i look forward to having the time to research evidence-based teaching practices, implement changes without being undermined by someone doubting if they'll work, and work with my students to get their opinions on what i could do to best support them, right from day one of the school year
i know i won't be perfect by any means, and we may spend longer than i'd like learning in a cement cube, but eventually everything will come together and i'll be fully invested in a career i enjoy
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Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Summary: Before they began dating, Blaine told him he wanted to be wooed. Now heâs saying itâs too much and to rein it in. One look at a calendar and Sebastian knows he's screwed. But if thatâs what Blaine Anderson wants, thatâs what Blaine Anderson will get. Notes: Roses and Chocolates
Season 4 AU: No sad Blaine. Bad Klaine break-up but no cheating. No Hunter. No steroids. Tie at Sectionals similar to what happened in Season 2. In other words, ignore the stupid stuff.
However, this one time, weâll accept the stupidity of canon trying to convince us Lima and Westerville are practically right next to each other so Blaine doesnât have to drive 2 hours (each way) to school every day.
September
School had been back in session for a week before Sebastian finally gave into Niffâs whining and agreed to go to the Lima Bean. Heâd been avoiding the place because Blaine was always there. They shook hands at Regionals, but nothing came of it. They still werenât talking. But Niff insisted there was something he had to see. It must have been big considering two cars full of Warblers followed them.
When he walked through the doors, he knew exactly what they were talking about. There, in all his glory, was Kurt Hummel wearing an apron, exactly as heâd predicted last year. Oh, he was going to have so much fun with this.
3 Weeks Later
Fridays were half days at Dalton. It was so those leaving for the weekend had time to prepare. This weekend he was staying back to study for his first big Economics (the subject that was going to kick his ass) test. But he could do that later. Right now, he felt like going on a run. He got ready but then changed his mind. He was still going for a run but was going to drive to Lima instead of using Daltonâs track. There was a little park there with a running trail he enjoyed. It also just so happened to be across the street from the Lima Bean. When he finished his run he could get an ice coffee and participate in his new favorite hobby Annoy the fuck out of Hummel.
After 3 weeks some would think heâd grown tired of it. Those people obviously didnât know him.
High on the endorphins running gave him, Sebastian mentally organized the new zingers heâd come up with. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the coffee shop Hummel wasnât there. Blaine was.
Shit!
Before he could make a hasty retreat, his former friend (and first boy he fell in love with for more than 20 minutes) called him over.
Shit!
"Shouldnât you be in class at that public school you slum in?â
"Iâm playing hooky.â
"You? Golden Boy Blaine Anderson is skipping? Iâm both impressed and curious. What was so important you brought out your inner rebel?â
"I ended my relationship with Kurt.â
October
Blaine was meant to play Teen Angel. Watching him go down those stairs, dressed all in white and singing like a dream was doing things to him...naughty things.
That day in September when Blaine told him he had ended it with old Gayface, he immediately started his Come back to Dalton campaign. The former Warbler had a dozen reasons why he couldnât. At the time, only one made sense. He didnât want to change schools yet again (even though the first one wasnât his fault). It wouldn't look good on his transcript.
Now, seeing Blaine Anderson own yet another stage, he could see another reason for his choice. Dalton didnât have a Drama Club. Despite only having one scene, any performing arts college admissions officer would be able to see he was the best thing about this monstrosity. He hated to admit it, but this mess desperately needed Rachel Berry. It wasnât like they werenât already using graduates. For some reason Santana Lopez was playing the second female lead. Blaine explained why but all he heard was blah blah blahâŠSamâs not happy about itâŠblah blah blahâŠheâs dating BrittanyâŠblah blah blahâŠSantanaâs ex.
This bit of information, plus the break-up of Berry and the Oaf gave him enough to keep him entertained both before and after the Teen Angel portion of the evening. Hummel looking back at him every 5 minutes also helped. He made sure to give him a little wave everyâŠsingleâŠtime.
Blaine warned him it would take around a half hour once the play was over for him to be able to leave, but it had almost been an hour. He assumed the delay was people trying to talk him into going to the cast party at Breadsticks. It was no secret Hummel (and the other graduates) planned to ignore the fact it was a cast party and crash. He decided to give it 10 more minutes before he went to find his unofficial, maybe someday, boyfriend.Â
But then the yelling began.
âAre you kidding me? Never mind, I know youâre not. You expected me to sit on my ass and pine for you until graduation. I canât believe I was so stupid.â
âSebastianâŠâ
âSebastian is none of your damn business.â
âI knew you're cheating on me!â
That was his cue. He ran down the hall and around a corner to find Blaine with the current New Directions on one side and Hummel and the graduates on the other. Fucking great. The one thing Blaine made him promise was not to instigate an already tense situation. WaitâŠhe was on the other side of the building. He (technically) had nothing to do with this showdown starting. But he knew a way to end it.
Game on!
He walked through the Old New Directions, winked at the NYADA reject and handed the flowers he brought to Blaineâs new (McKinley) BFF, Sam. Then, without a word, took Blaine in his arms and kissed himâŠhard. Blaine caught on and jumped up, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a Koala. When he grabbed hold of the Koalaâs (perfect) ass to keep him up, the comments began. Applause erupted from the current New Directions side. Sam yelled Go get it, Anderson. There were catcalls from (who he believed was) Lopez. He was a little too busy to check it out.
If Hummel responded, it must have been at one of those pitches only dogs could hear. When they finally broke apart, he was in a best kiss I ever had daze and didnât know what to do next.
Blaine did.
âThanks, Babe. And Kurt, I'm not cheating on you. Not because I'm with Sebastian but because I broke up with you.â
âSo, you are sleeping with Smythe!â
Now he knew what to say. âWhy? You want to watch? Maybe I can teach you a thing or two. The New York Gays arenât into, shall we say, vanilla. Then again, neither is B. OhâŠyou didn't know? You're a bigger idiot than I thought. Sorry about that B...in more ways than one.â
"It's alright. I'm sure the differences in my sex life have been highly speculated since you came back into my life."
Dog whistle, incoherent screaming
âCome on Killer, letâs go.â He took the flowers back from Sam and walked over to Artie (the director on Blaineâs side) âApologies, but Blaine will not be attending the cast party.â
âNo apologies necessaryâ
They went back to Dalton and crashed the Warblers monthly movie marathon. When Nick took Blaine upstairs to get some pjâs his phone started to go off. Of course, it was Hummel. He said to let it go to voicemail, but Thad answered it. He was able to use the words mock or mocking eight times before the other end went dead. The Warblers who were at Dalton with Hummel were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Someday, someone was going to have to tell him what that was about. When Blaine and Nick returned, he told Blaine what happened. He just shrugged then sat down next to him, stealing half his blanket. After grabbing his phone and blocking his ex's number, Blaine told the story of what happened after the play.
The movie marathon was scrapped. The group spent the rest of the night telling stories and laughing. At one point, some of the guys brought down their laptops and graduated Warblers were Skyped in. He learned what was so funny about the word mock. It was his favorite story after the one where Blaine jumped on a 100 year-old table, broke it into pieces and then somehow managed to charm the headmaster into not giving him detention for destruction of school property.
Fucking amazing
Blaine smiled the entire night until exhaustion took over. By this time, heâd hogged the majority of the blanket and was once again practicing being a Koala bear.
Again, fucking amazing
"Hey, Seb. Did we ever tell you about the Gap Attack?â
Thad took off at a full sprint when Blaine instantly woke up at the mere mention of the Gap Attack. It was ok, he knew the story but never got why it was such a big deal. Because, seriously, how could anyone reject such a grand gesture from Blaine Anderson?
November
The Warblers and New Directions decided to combine their We won Sectionals parties since technically they both won.
âA fucking tie? How the hell did we fucking tie?â
âItâs happened beforeâ Sam reminded him, only slightly slurring his words. âWhen Blaine and he who shall not be named were at Dalton. Blaine took the lead on both songs and knocked them out of the park. Then Quinn and I did an awweeesooome duet. You know, I really liked Quinn but then she started sleeping withâŠyeah, Iâm drunk.â
âSlept with who? Come on Evans!â Good thing that Sugar girlâs basement was huge so there was plenty of other furniture for the others. Sam was out cold. Watching his girlfriend eye fuck her ex all night probably contributed the situation, especially when that Quinn girl actually fucked some guy behind his back. But who?
He needed to find Blaine.
It didnât take long. He was off to the side talking with the Oaf. If he understood what happened, the guy flunked out of the Army and has now taken over the New Directions since Schuster abandoned them. Fuck! He was also Hummelâs stepbrother.
Everyone knew their kiss after Grease was just to piss-off Hummel. It must have worked because the delusional diva-wannabe had gone silent. That changed today when he called Blaine, five minutes before they were supposed to go onstage. His number was supposed to be blocked but somehow rang through. That could wait. The real problem was figuring out what triggered the call in the first place. Since he wasnât going to get answers from the fucking narcissist, the Oaf would have to do. âDid you tell the Bad Fairy what a dick move it was to call Blaine right before the New Directions went on stage? Or at least find out what the hell he wanted?â
The Oaf looked toward the ground and huffed, the international signal for youâre not going to like this. âKurt thought he and Blaine would get back together when he was here last month. When that didnât happen, he told anyone who would listen he found out Blaine was cheating on him with you even before he left for NYC. Supposedly he's been super depressed enough for his boss to call him into her office yesterday. She told him heâd never be able to move on until he offered forgiveness to those who wronged him. Kurt called Blaine so Blaine could apologize for cheating on him and then he could forgive him.â The Oaf and Blaine silently waited for a response. It wasnât what they expected.
Full-on laughter
When he was able to breathe again, he sobered (not really, he was still pretty drunk) up to stare the Oaf directly in the eyes. He seemed a little taken aback. It probably didnât happen very often. The dude was tall, but so was he. âSebâŠâ
âNo, youâre going to listen to me. Tell that delusional son-of-a-bitch to stop saying shit about me and Blaine. If he says no, remind him my father is the Stateâs Attorney. I will neverâŠever see the inside of a jail cell. Oh, sorry Blaine."
"Don't be. Even if I wanted to press charges, which I didn't, the idiot gave away the evidence."Â
"True." He turned his attention back to the Oaf. No, really turned. It made him nauseous. "And also let Gayface know my new, very good friend Sugar told me her Daddy can dispose of a body so it's never found. Got that?â
âYeah, Iâll take care of it.â
He (slightly) nodded his head (still nauseous) and backed off. Blaine was smiling that smile that made him want to drop to his knees and offer everlasting fidelityâŠand give him a blowjob. However, this wasnât the time or place. âNow that weâve got that settled, can one of you tell me who the asshole was that fucked Sam's girlfriend behind his back? I need to kick his, or her, ass. No, I canât hit a girl. Hey, Sugar! Come over here. I might need a favor!â
December
âExplain it to me one more time.â
"You understood the first time. You understood the second and third time.â
"I understand the part about Sam and Brittany getting marriedâŠâ
"Fake marriedâ
"But they didnât know it was fake.â
Blaine lifted his coffee and gave it a slight tip, acknowledging his point. âTouchĂ©. So, what donât you understand?â
"How Sammy-boy is still walking around. I thought Lopez would be here on the first flight out of NYC. She might not be as delusional as Hummel, but even I can tell she thought Britt would come running back if she changed her mind. The true question is she pissed because her ex moved on, or that Britt moved on with Sam, Satan's other ex?â
"You know about Sam and Santana?â
"I know he was just a beard but didnât know it. Those girls in the New Directions treated your BFF like shit, which is really, really bad considering I'm the one saying it. Youâd think heâd be quite the catch with those lips. Since heâs on team vaginaâŠâ
"Stop! Samâs my best friend.â
"Are you telling me youâve never thought about what those lips could do if he was on his kneesâŠâ
"Oh my God! Donât put that thought in my head!â
He had to admit heâd thought about Sam that way a time or two, but it was always centered around Blaine. Primarily, what would happen if the guy was a switch hitter. He and Blaine were extremely tactical together. Heâd watched them hug more times in 3 1/2 months than his parents had in his lifetime. They also had a cool nicknameâŠBlam. He and Blaine needed a nickname. Bastian? NoâŠSeblaine. Image Hummelâs meltdown hearing the Seb in his name replacing the K in Klaine.
"Earth to Sebastian. Please tell me youâre not thinking of Sam giving you a blowjob.â
"I wasnât untilâŠkidding. Iâm only kidding.â He took a sip of his coffee before changing the subject. It was time to push things forward, or at least find out if it was possible. âBut I was thinking about how close you and Sam are. I mean you were practically holding hands the other day when I picked you up. If your BFF could be your BF, would you be with him?â Well, that sounded stupid.
"Have I thought of me and Sam together? I'm a 17 year-old gay boy and he's gorgeous 17 year-old boy with six-pack abs. Of course, I've thought about it. But I'd never do anything to jeopardize our friendship."
Good! âSo, if Blam is totally platonic, what about dating in general? Youâve had enough guys hit on you at Scandals. Or are you still not over Hummel?â Please be over him, please be over him.
"I donât think the guys at Scandals are looking for dates. And Iâve been over Kurt for a while now." YES!!! "I should tell you something.â
That didnât sound good. âAnythingâ
âBurt, Kurtâs dad, came to see me the other day and asked me to go with him to NYC for Christmas, obviously to see Kurt.â
WTF?! âHe knows you and Hummel arenât together anymore, right? Or didnât he care.â
"Itâs not like that.â Blaine finished his coffee before sitting back in his chair. âYou canât tell anyone.â
"Done.â
"He has cancer. Cancer is what killed Kurtâs mom. Burtâs going to NYC to tell him in person.â
Great, now he feels like an ass. "Iâm sorry. I know youâre still close to him despite everything. But that doesnât explain why he asked you to go.â
"He thought I wouldâŠyou know what? I donât really know why he thought it would be a good idea. Sam overheard Burt on the phone with Kurt and he mentioned our annual Christmas duet tradition. Maybe it was something to do with that.â
"Christmas duet tradition?â
"The first song Kurt and I sang together was Baby, itâs cold outside. And you saw the Christmas TV Special the New Directions filmed last year.â
"And you were great. But you said annual tradition.â
"Last year and the year before.â
âKiller, doing something two years in a row isnât an annual tradition, itâs a coincidence.â For some reason Blaine began to laugh then volunteered to get them another round of coffees and a couple of Christmas cookies. When he returned the laughter had stopped, but the boy across from him seemed lighter somehow. âWhat did I say to put you in this mood? Not that Iâm complaining.â
"Don't get mad but I was feeling a little sad about the Christmas duet tradition until you called it a coincidence."
O...K? "Why?"
"When I took the time to look back on my relationship with Kurt, I realized we didn't have a quote/unquote thing. The closest I could come was the duets."
"Nothing else? You were together over a year."
"Exactly. He gave me red and yellow roses once, but it was his attempt at an apology for accusing me of stealing Tony, West Side Story, from him. Even before the official announcement, it was pretty clear I had the part considering Artie had me read with both Rachel and Mercedes. Don't ask." He made the locking gesture over his lips. This sounded like the beginning of a rant, and he didn't want to stop progress. Hopefully, it would give him the information he had (badly) been trying to get since they got there.
"After that, every romantic gesture came from me. Hell, I weaved together a bow-tie ring out of gum wrappers. Don't ask." Wouldn't dream of it. "Oh, I forgot. He did give me a stuffed dog when my brother he was visiting, who by the way, Kurt didn't try to hide his massive crush on. Anyway, I was so touched he thought of me that I didn't wrap my head around the story of the dog until later. The seniors were at the amusement park for Senior Skip Day. Rachel made Finn play the games so he could win her stuffed animals. On the way back, Kurt thought of me, or Cooper and thus me, I don't know, and realized he didn't bring me back anything, which he said he would. So, he stole one of Rachel's multiple animals and gave it to me, saying she wouldn't miss it. He didn't win the dog. He stole it and then told me like it was no big deal."
"That's...that's a lot."
"I've got dozens more."
"No, that's ok. I believe you." And he had enough information. Anything more would just piss him off and cloud his focus. "So, what you're saying is when you're ready to date, you want to be the one who is...I know there's a word."
"Wooed. Yeah, I want to be wooed. And not just wooed. Bigly wooed. Hugely wooed. No, humungously wooed."
"I don't believe anything you said was grammatically correct."
"I don't care. I want chocolates and roses..."
"Just not red and yellow ones."
"Exactly! And besides being humungously wooed, I want to be with someone I donât have to hide myself from. Heâd have to accept my inner GeekâŠcomic books, video games, Star WarsâŠâ
Shit! "That eliminates me from the pool of potential boyfriends. I will never understand Star Wars. At least the canonâŠâ
"Oh My God!!! I told Sam to stop sending you links to clone/clone smut!â
"I canât help it. I find them fascinating. I mean, theyâre clones of the same guy. So, the clone is basically having sex with himself. How is that not Masturbation?â
December 23 in Lima/December 24 in Paris
"Hey, Killer. I thought we agreed to Skype on the 26th after we opened our gifts?"
Blaine smiled and picked up Sebastian's (already opened) gift. "You got me a stuffed dog!"
"It's not the 26th!"
"I can't believe you actually thought I'd wait!"
Yeah, he should have known better. "Just so you know, I didn't win him, but I did build him."
"You went to Build-A-Bear and made me a puppy? You know what Build-A-Bear is?"
"Trent did. Then I asked Sam if he thought you'd like it. He showed up with Tina because she wanted to make sure I didn't fuck it up."
"You...?"
Something changed. Blaine had been like a hyperactive puppy...oh, now he gets the whole Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom thing Sam went on and on about. "You ok Killer?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm great." It looked like he hugged the stuffed animal tighter, but he couldn't tell for sure. The Skype was a little fuzzy. "Open your gift."
"No..."
"Open it. I want to see your face." When he came back with the box, Blaine was practically bouncing through the screen. "Open it!"
"Ok, ok...oh. Men of McKinley?"
"January and December."
"Jan...oh, shit!"Â
"Remember when I told you the New Directions had to raise money to get a handicapped accessible bus for Regionals? Ta-da!"
"Um..."
"Speaking of January, December, do you want to get dinner before Sugar's New Year's Eve party?"
"Sure. Breadsticks, since it seems like that's the only place the New Directions go?"
"No, when I said dinner, I meant just you and me."
đđđ"That sounds great."
December 31 11:59 PM/ January 1 12:02 AM
When the kissed ended, he lowered his head to put their foreheads together. "Blaine Anderson, I promise I am going to humungously woo you like no one has been humungously wooed before."
February
Blaine was in the Warbler Commons holding the basket he had delivered to McKinley. The Warblers were nowhere to be found. Thad told him Good Luck when he literally ran into him in the hallway but didn't say anything about canceling Warbler practice. Regionals were in 3 weeks. "Hey Babe, do you know where the guys are?"
"I asked them to give us some privacy." He held up the basket before setting it on one of the sofas. "You've got to stop, Bas."
"You don't like the puppies? They're for Bas Dog. The puppy with the pink bow is Alexandra and the one with the blue bow is Devon." Blaine sighed, then took his hand, taking him to the sofa across from the basket. "Did I do something wrong? You're the one who said you wanted to be humungously wooed."
"And I love being humungously wooed by you, but it's every day and I can't imagine the amount of money you've spent."
"That's not my fault, it's yours." Shit! He didn't want to tell Blaine this but no lying or hiding feelings was their Rule #1. "Remember the day you came to my house to help put away the Christmas decorations?"
"Yeah, there were a lot more than I thought there'd be considering your family spent the holidays in Paris."
"When you're a politician, you've still got to keep up appearances. Anyway, New Year's morning, after my wooing promise, I realized something. I had no fucking clue how to woo someone. Then I made a humungously big mistake. I asked my mother."
"Your mother is a lovely woman. Maybe a little over the top."
"No, and I love her, but she's an overbearing French snob who looks down on everyone and everything...except you. You come over, being all charming, (air quotes) forgetting not to call my parents Ma'am and Sir. You brought delicious homemade muffins you baked that morning because you didn't have a hostess gift. I invited you for manual labor not a dinner party."
"It was the polite thing..."
"And then when you and Mother went missing, and Dad and I found you both at the piano singing the score to Les Misérables? My dad pulled me aside and told me he was doubling my weekly allowance but called it my Don't fuck this up fund. Later that night, after you'd gone home, Mother came to my room and gave me a 3-hour lecture on wooing. Then she told me she was tripling my weekly allowance but called it my Don't fuck this up fund."
Blaine's smile was the only thing holding back his laughter. "Did you tell Vivian your father had already given you a raise?"
"Not at first. I thought she was just adding on to what Dad had already done. But when I checked the next day, the original amount was now five times larger. I told them but they waved it off. So, long story short, I haven't spent nearly what I could have. I didn't want to freak you out. And if you haven't guessed, my parents really like you."
"My parents like you too. If my father says the word "upgrade" one more time..." Blaine kissed his cheek but he could tell it was about his developing relationship with his father more than what they were discussing. It sometimes overwhelmed his boyfriend (he loved saying that) how he and Patrick Anderson got along so well. "Thank you for telling me what your parents have done but I want you, and your parents, to understand something. You're an amazing boyfriend and not because of the gifts. Ok, not just because of the gifts. If you don't believe me, believe the universe. You got into Harvard and I'm going to Berklee. We applied to those schools last year, when we weren't talking."
"Berklee was your backup school."
"Yes, at the time, but I could've chosen NYU and didn't. Something was steering me toward Boston. You're stuck with me. And maybe Brittany. Evidently, she's some sort of math genius and MIT is flying her out for further testing."
"That...that...that...huh?"
"I can't explain it either. I'll let you know when I know." Blaine got up and came backed with the two stuffed animals. "I love being wooed by you. Puppies for Bas Dog is incredibly sweet. The problem I have is you keep sending everything to McKinley."
"Are any of those assholes giving you crap because your boyfriend is sending you gifts?"
"No, it's not because you and I are gay. It's because Valentine's Day is next week. Today, a group of guys came into the Choir Room after Glee begging me to ask you to stop. Their girlfriends are constantly pointing out what you've sent me. No way can they live up to those expectations."
"That's not my fault."
"I know, just please, nothing else to McKinley until after Valentine's Day."
"Fine, but afterwards we're back to humungously wooing?"
Blaine sighed and gripped his hand tighter. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."
"But..."
"I had an idea. Have you heard about Wes' Lent Challenge?"
"Yes, but you know my opinion on organized religions. They call me an abomination. I call them a bunch of hypocritical pedophiles."
"And I agree, but the Challenge wasn't about religion. It was about creativity, but we didn't get to choose what to give up. I had to give up boy band moves for 40 days. We were getting ready for Regionals!"
"Boy band moves?"
"And jumping on furniture."
"Ah, that makes more sense." Something about the way Blaine was looking at him let him know he wasn't going to let this go. "What's your idea?"
"Let me show you my Blaine Anderson everything has to be over the top skills and allow me to take over Valentine's Day."
OH, HELL NO! "That's not going to happen. We can both do Valentine's Day."
"That's what I figured you say. But I want you to understand, I'm with you because of you, not that you're the King of Humungously Wooing. You do believe that, don't you?'
Uhhhh... "Maybe"
"I know the Lent Challenge is a bit extreme, but I couldn't think of another way to get you to stop wooing me and let me prove to you how we can be really great without it."
Maybe he'd been going overboard. At first, he could blame having no idea how to be in a relationship and then bringing in his parents. Then Hummel found out they were together and conveniently came back to Lima to check on his dad, despite just beginning classes at NYADA. If he was there for his dad, how come he was at McKinley daily "helping" Schuster and the Oaf get the New Directions ready for Regionals? That's when he started sending the gifts to McKinley. But once he started, he couldn't stop. Ok, Hummel said something about Blaine will dump him once the gifts ended and he'd be there to pick up the pieces.Â
He wasn't proud that he'd let it get to him.
"So, nothing to McKinley until after Valentine's Day. Then wooing, just not humungously wooing. And then, the Lent Challenge." He leaned in and kissed his boyfriend...his boyfriend. Yeah, he should learn to accept that. "When does Lent start?"
"It's not like Christmas. It's the 40 days before Easter and Easter's usually somewhere in April."
Later that evening, he pulled out a calendar to find out exactly when Lent began.Â
Oh, shit! He's so screwed.
But if thatâs what Blaine Anderson wants, thatâs what Blaine Anderson will get.
February 14th
The next week was pretty great for him and Blaine. Sam on the other hand...
Brittany broke up with him via text, when they were in the same room, because her cat told her to. The next day she flew off to MIT. The breakup (dumping) was most likely due to that, but the cat story was more fun.
Sam's pain was real, and he kind of felt bad, but it gave him the opportunity to woo Blaine but look like he was cutting back at the same time. Thankfully, even after all the money he's spent to this point and the money he was spending on Valentine's Day, there was still a substantial balance in his Don't fuck this up fund.
Sugar told him she didn't know what guys did, but when girls had a breakup, they usually spent the next few days in bed with friends (to tell you what a jerk your ex is), ice cream (to eat your feelings) and a movie (probably the Notebook). That wasn't going to work, but it gave him an idea. He and Beat (the Warblers gaming expert) went to the mall. Two Play Stations and multiple (including the latest Marvel and Star Wars) games later, they moved on to the grocery store. Sam watched what he ate (obsessively) so he didn't know what ice cream to get. He bought them all along with everything he needed for a sundae bar. Â
While took the haul back to Dalton, he went to Hummel's house to kidnap Blam. He thought the Oaf was going to swallow his tongue when he opened the door to see him standing there. It wasn't a picnic for him either.
Sam protested but Blaine convinced him to go with it. When they got to Dalton and saw the setup...2 large TVs with a game station on each, stacks and stacks of pizza, a wide variety of non-alcoholic beverages (the good stuff was for later) and a freezer full of ice cream...the McKinley boys were in complete shock.
"Sugar told me about the ice cream, Notebook, friends version of a post-breakup party, but Sam's a dude. I thought video games, junk food, ice cream and later, alcohol, sounded better. And for once, you're not going to scrutinize everything you eat. We'll deal with the aftermath, you know, after. And before you ask, I didn't invite anyone else from McKinley because Britt is their friend as well. Here, you can trash her all you want and nothing gets back to Satan."
As the Warblers took Sam under their wings, Blaine drug him to his dorm room and gave him the best blowjob of his life...times 10! Not that he expected it to happen but...holy shit! Maybe there was another way to woo Blaine Anderson.
But that was last week. Today was Valentine's Day. The creme de la creme of romantic holidays. All other wooing meant nothing if he didn't get this right. He knew it wasn't true, but it sure felt like it.
He honored Blaine's wishes and sent nothing to Mckinley. They agreed to meet at Dalton and he was pretty sure some of the guys were helping Blaine with something. It was driving him nuts. To make it worse, his Economics (his worse class) teacher noticed he was distracted and called on him constantly. Asshole!
When class ended, Jeff took one arm and Nick the other. Without explanation, they escorted him to the Conservatory on the other side of the Academy. Blaine was at the grand piano wearing the same outfit he was wearing when they first saw each other. He was even wearing the bowtie, which he didn't do as much anymore.Â
When your legs don't work like they used to before And I can't sweep you off of your feet Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love? Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?
And, darling, I will Be loving you 'til we're 70 And, baby, my heart Could still fall as hard at 23
And I'm thinking 'bout how People fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe just the touch of a hand Well, me, I fall in love with you every single day And I just wanna tell you I am
So, honey, now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud
Maybe we found love right where we are
"Did you like it?"
"I loved it. You know Ed Sheeran is one of my favorites right now, but, isn't there more?"
Blaine picked up a gift sitting on the other side of him and brought it over. "I thought we'd save the rest of it for later."
He opened the box and... "Holy shit! These are front row! And backstage passes! How? I thought about this but he's not performing near here."
"I know, those are for his Boston show. It's during Spring Break. I thought we could go check out the campuses and surrounding area. It would be nice if we could find a coffee shop before we actually move there."
"Oh, wow, yeah. Wait a minute, your parents agreed to me and you going to Boston unchaperoned?"
"So, did yours."
"That's not surprising. They love you. I wouldn't be surprised if they find some apartments for us to check out while we're there." He leaned in to thank his boyfriend for the amazing gift when... "Seriously Killer, how did you get these? From what I've heard, he doesn't allow backstage passes unless he personally approved them."
"Cooper"
"Cooper? You're brother, Cooper?"
"When Ed first moved to LA he lived in the apartment across the hall from Coop. They became friends. Since my brother had never asked before, Ed was more than willing to help him out. However, this does mean I owe him a HUGE favor. I don't really want to think about it." Blaine went up on his toes and kissed him before taking a step back, obviously anticipating something. "Well?"
"Well? Oh, you want your gift." He reached into his messenger bag and handed his boyfriend a small box. "I hope you like it. I tried to remember everything you told me."
Blaine's blazing smile faded the moment he saw the contents of the box. "A chocolate bar and a plastic flower?"
"Rose. It's a rose. I remembered when you went on your original wooing rant, and you said you wanted someone who would give you chocolate and roses. And I hope you noticed it's white, not red or yellow."
"I noticed, but...I mean, I know I asked you to scale back, but it's Valentine's Day."
"And?"
"And what?"
He opened the calendar on his phone and showed it to his thoroughly confused boyfriend. "Today is Valentine's Day and the first day of Lent. Easter is early this year. Maybe next time you get a big idea, you should make sure of the details before implementing it."
It took a little bit of time before Blaine put it all together. "The Lent Challenge. You were supposed to stop with all the gifts for the Lent Challenge."
He tried hard to suppress the snark in his expression but couldn't. "I couldn't get you nothing..."
"Oh, no, this is great. You did exactly what I wanted."
"Excellent! Let's go to the Commons. I want to show the guys what my wonderful boyfriend got me for our first Valentine's Day." That was laying it on a bit thick, but he'd already gone this far. Blaine trying to smile and saying how much he loved the candy bar and dollar store flower was pretty pathetic. "That's strange" he said when they found the doors shut. "We've got practice in 20 minutes." He opened the doors and stood off to the side.
"Oh...my...God!" Blaine ran right past him. Inside the Commons were seven (one for each week they'd been boyfriends) bouquets of a dozen white roses. There were also a dozen handmade chocolate hearts from the best chocolatier in Paris.Â
"Like I said. I remembered you wanted to be with someone who would give you chocolate and roses. I thought maybe you would forgive me this one..."
He couldn't finish the sentence when Koala Bear Blaine returned, kissing him with everything he could put into it. When it ended, there were tears on both their faces. He's never understood happy tears until Blaine came into his life. "Are you ok?"
"More than. And I promise, I will never question your wooing again."
20 Years Later
The noise of his husband and children carried up from the kitchen to his bedroom, even with the door closed. Sebastian was making Alexandra and Devon heart shaped pancakes as he had every year since they ate solid food. He always made sure not to go down to the kitchen until they were finished. This was a tradition between just the three of them. Sebastian also kept up the tradition of giving him chocolates and roses for Valentines Day. The most memorable was during their senior year of college. They flew to Paris so Sebastian could take him to the chocolatier who made the chocolates from the first year. Inside one of the hearts was an engagement ring.
He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a small box. It was the secret he hid from everyone, even the man he married. Inside were his two favorite possessions in the worldâŠa chocolate bar wrapper and a plastic rose. The moment Sebastian explained the logic behind them, he knew heâd marry that boy someday. He had listened to him. He had paid attention. No one had done so in a very long time. THAT was the greatest gift he ever received.
"Daddyâ
He quickly put back the box and turned to see 4 year-old Devon, the spitting image of his husband. They were in so much trouble in approximately 10 years. âWhat are you doing here Mr. Man? You know the rule about knocking.â
"Sorry Daddy, Iâm xited.â
âThat doesn't excuse not knocking. Now tell me, why are you excited?â
"Papa put choccy chips in the heart cakes! And he making flower cakes!â
âChocolates and rosesâ he couldn't help but smile at the fact Sebastian was still a total romantic. He'd always been, it just took him a while to trust it. âWow, those sounds amazing!â
"Can you eat flower and heart choccy chip cakes with me and Ally and Papa?â
"Oh Sweetheart, pancakes are your Valentine tradition with only Ally and Papa.â
"But Papa says we can have new dition with you. But we has to do it three times or itâs a coâŠcoâŠâ
Killer, doing something two years in a row isnât an annual tradition, itâs a coincidence. "The word is coincidence and your Papa is right, as usual. Letâs go start a new tradition.â
Thinking Out Loud: Sheeran, Ed 2014
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Preparing myself, as the Nest Becomes More Empty....
I am guilty of coddling my kids too much at times. I realize now that it was something that helped me, not them. In a divided household, I knew they lived with a drill sergeant half of the time. I felt I needed to offset the balance and allow them to be "kids". Which meant I always had a messy house unless I did most of the cleaning.
Somehow in between my full time job, part time job, graduate school program, and 3 kids, I got by without child support. I was afraid to ask for support, and I figured I could support them on my own anyway. I lost a lot of sleep over the years. I probably lost a lot of years as well. Maintaining a home as the only adult is challenging; between the housework, cooking, bills, shopping, laundry, mom's taxi service, sports practices, homework, check-ups, dental, orthodontics, maintaining personal hygiene (yes theirs but also mine). I don't know how I even did it for as long as I did. It was like I was in robot mode with little time for introspection, I had too much to do.
My son is a senior and will be leaving home soon. My oldest son left a couple of years ago. When he did, I spent almost a week in full melt-down mode. I warned everyone ahead of time, I could feel it coming. Please stay away. I am not going to be normal or okay. Landon was my reason for continuing to exist. He was my reason for anything adult-like or responsible I had ever done. He moved out and I went full psycho mode. I warned my youngest kids to stay away for a few days. It was for the best.
Then, he moved back in after a couple of months. By the time he came back, I was already used to him being gone. It felt different. I thought, 'I just got used to you not being here'. He stayed a couple of months and then left for good. He is married now. Yesterday I realized his girlfriend now shares his last name, and is now his wife. It has been 4 months. One might think the realization should have dawned on me before now. I don't always do things in the proper order.
My 'babies' are grown and stretching their wings. When my son moved out the second time, I had no meltdowns. I am getting better, but I am terrified of losing my last two babies. I have to find something that is for me, and gives me reason to look forward to my empty nest. I would love to be able to help my kids pack and be excited for their futures as well as my own.
If I am being honest, it seems that coddling my kids made me feel important. If they needed me to cook, clean, help with homework, and be on call for medical questions, I would remain relevant (or so I thought). Now that much of the hard work of raising my kids is over, I have tried to "find myself" again. Rediscover my likes, my dislikes, and try to figure out what would actually be good for ME. I forgot about my own needs for so long, couldn't even remember what I liked. It is a process that has been frightening, painful, exciting, and fun.
As the time for Jack to leave home looms over my head and the calendar days fly past, my excitement and dread grow exponentially together. I don't like the dread at all. Fear of lack of purpose, death on the horizon, loneliness, and an overall lack of a solid plan for the future are all hanging like a black cloud over me.
I had to start preparing. There are no other realistic options. I know they will not flourish as adults if I "over-help" them and try to keep them with me forever. If I keep doing things for them, things that they should be doing for themselves, I am robbing them of their independence. I am not allowing them to grow up because I want them to stay my 'babies' forever, and I want to stay relevant in their lives. It is actually very selfish. I don't like this part of my personality/ mind. This is not helpful, and the probable outcome (needy adults who can not do anything for themselves) does not look like a future I want for my kids.
So, I have decided that I am going to be a 'lazy' mom (my mom guilt makes me refer to it as such). I have to let them cook, clean, wash their clothes until they no longer need me. They aren't going to love it at first, and I will be tempted to cave in, but I must get them ready for a future in which they are strong, well adjusted, and at least somewhat disciplined. I have to teach more, and do less chores. That doesn't sound too bad really. I should have started this years ago.
#Preparing myself as the nest becomes more empty#Mom guilt#almost empty nest syndrome#coddling my grown kids#lazy mom guilt
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rejected ; c.h. (part vii - preview)
i need a calendar because i cannot keep track of the days that pass. oopsie. ANYWAY here's the preview for part seven! :^) i think there are a couple parts left before this series ends :^) btw this part is subject to be changed lol the war in ukraine is still happening, so here's the reddit post with links to trusted charities to help those in need! if there are any mistakes or questions, feel free to ask!
summary: Â he was just a silly little crush that you had in high school, and you were sure that after graduating, you would be over it. so why is your heart beating fast as he sits next to you in your first class on your first day of college? pairing: calum hood x reader (gender-neutral) genre: fluff, angst, classmates to friends to loves au, college au warning(s): mentions of past toxic relationship (full part will have more warnings regarding this topic) preview word count: 449 words to be posted: ~october 8, 2022 series masterlist! | main masterlist!
Calum finds it hard to explain himself. Looking in from the outside, Calum could see himself as a cowardly selfish person; acting without a second thought, inconsiderate of how it would make others feel, all just to make themselves feel better. He took your concern and kindness, stomped on it repeatedly, and threw it in the trash. And to make it worse, you still had the guts to tell him you liked him. That was something he was not brave to do.
âYou canât be short with me, Cal,â Ashton scolds, observing Calumâs body language.
Calum moves his hands down his face, revealing his eyesâwhich were glossy and a slightly darker red than beforeâas he stares at the ceiling. He avoids Ashtonâs stare because he knows it would have him spilling more than what he wants to let out, and heâs not quite ready for that. Not yet, at least.
âSheila still has a hold on me,â Calum states, swallowing the bile rising in his throat, âshe has a hold on me and I canât let go.â
âCal,â exasperation flows out of Ashton as he sits next to Calum, mirroring his position to stare at the ceiling, âSheila wasâisâa bad person. She had no regard for how she made people feel, always wanting to be the center of attention, and when she doesnât get what she wants she becomes someone completely different. Worse.â
Ashton watches Calum shut his eyes, a tear slipping out before his eyes open again.
âToxic and abusive relationships,â Ashton sighs, continuing, âitâsâthey are hard to move on from. I get that. But I know you, Cal. Youâre stronger than you think you are.â
Ashton knows that itâs a weak attempt to soothe Calum, but he recalls how well Calum kept it together throughout the last year of high school. Anyone who wasnât privy to the relationshipâs ups and downs wouldâve thought that Calum never went through something like that. Those who knew, though, couldnât understand how Calum can keep his head up, but at the same time were proud of him.
Calumâs eyes flutter shut again, nose flaring as a few more tears slip out.
âThrowing the box out from under your bed is a great start.â
Calum knows it is. He hates that heâs right (and he does not know how Ashton knew about that box), but it would be best to throw it out.
âI will,â he whispers, using the sleeves of his sweatshirt to wipe at the tears.
âNow,â Ashton readjusts in his seat, âtell me exactly what happened.â
Calum heaves out a sigh, letting a few beats of silence pass before starting from the very beginning.
#5sos imagines#calum hood imagines#5sos one shots#5sos drabbles#5sos blurbs#5 seconds of summer imagines#5 seconds of summer blurbs#5 seconds of summer one shots#5 seconds of summer drabbles#calum hood blurbs#calum hood one shots#calum hood drabbles#5sos angst
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congratulations on your bachelors degree slug! can you give us tips on managing the workload and how you were able to talk to your counsellors about early grad? iâm a freshman in college and hope to transfer for junior year and finish then :)
Thank you very much for the congratulations! Put under a cut for length.
Your school will likely have a much different process than mine. I apologize; I will be a bit vague about the details, but a huge part of why my university worked so well for me as opposed to other schools (which I really struggled with) is because it was almost entirely self-paced. Because of that, if I wanted to take a year's worth of courses in a single semester, I could, provided I showed I could handle it. It wasn't a complex process. In your case, you will probably have a lot more graduation requirements and fiddly things to deal with, so bringing it up to a counselor now and making a roadmap towards graduation is a very smart idea. Be really careful! You don't want to end up in a time crunch due to perquisites, fall-only/spring-only classes, etc. If you're outside of the US, this may not apply (but still, please talk to the counselor), but plan ahead to take summer classes too. You'll probably not be able to do a lot of internships, extracurricular activities, or other fun/enriching things. Is the trade-off worth it? Maybe. In my case, I was paying for most of my tuition, so only paying 2 years of tuition vs 4 was a huge motivator for me. I was also working full-time and otherwise not living the typical college student life, so I already didn't give a shit about missing out on the social aspects of college. For some people, though, that's a big deal breaker.
In terms of managing the workload, again, your situation is probably going to be different. I've been lucky to have a lot of flexibility; when I was working full-time, my workday started in the afternoon and ran all evening, and when I was doing contract translation work, that could be done literally whenever. Likewise, my classwork could be done almost whenever, so I was able to shift things around as needed. My school also didn't have a lot of busywork since it emphasized self-management; it was on me to figure out how much I had to do in order to pass exams and complete projects to the necessary standards. With that being said, some general tips for time and workload management:
Plan out your time in advance with flexible scheduling. If you've been around for a while, you may remember how I always put up monthly translation calendars with daily translation goals. I almost never did the day's goal on the day itself (just because I kept moving things around as I responded to other workloads likewise shifting) but I always made sure everything was done before the deadline, aka the month's end. Flexibility is fantastic if you can have it! It allows you to absorb sudden shocks (accidents, unexpected new work coming in, illness, etc.). But if you're dealing with 12 hours of work in a day when you're only awake 16 - 18 hours, it's vital to have a game plan to know how you're going to fit that all in. Calendars, daily task lists, etc are all good tools to do this. I'd be happy to show some of mine if they're wanted.
Learn your peak hours of productivity and use them to their fullest extent. For me, I am most active in the morning (usually 5 am - 1 pm or so) so I try to shift all my hardest, most energy-consuming tasks to those time slots. Other people are most active in the evening or afternoon and should commit to those as their peak productivity hours.
Use wait times productively. Since my disability prevents me from driving, I use public transit a lot which is often sloooooow and boooooring - but I can use that to my advantage! During the unpleasant six months of my junior semester where I was averaging about 80 working hours a week (two jobs + a year's worth of classes in six months - and then there was Hypmic and housework and shit to contend with of course), the overwhelming majority of my coursework was done on the train to and from work. Before that, I printed light novel pages or grabbed Hypmic screenshots to translate during those commutes. Nowadays, on days when I know I need to run errands, I bring my self-studying textbooks with me and pencil in working on those during that timeslot. Outside of public transit, there are lots of other situations when you may lose chunks of time waiting - waiting for a ride, at a doctor's office waiting room, etc. Plan ahead, and if you find yourself in a situation where you're wasting time on your phone or whatever, know that that's a good time to spend a few minutes studying from a textbook, doing flashcards, finishing a worksheet, etc.
Budget downtime for yourself. Energy is a resource as much as time is. If you're working yourself into a crash state on a consistent basis, you're likely to burn out. Most people schedule themselves at least one day off a week to allow themselves time to relax and have fun. I... do not for a variety of reasons, but I'm very much an exception to the rule and not the rule itself. Please plan time to recharge. Having a certain time to "clock out" at the end of each day is also a wise idea.
Be diligent in taking care of yourself physically. Your body can't work at 100% capacity constantly, especially if you aren't taking care of yourself. Be mindful of getting enough rest, even if that means setting a strict bedtime. Make sure you're eating enough, at whatever times are appropriate for you, and with balanced nutrition. If you have the time, exercise is also vital.
Learn how your brain works best and go with it. What works for one person you know may not work for you. If you're not sure how to begin with this, try different strategies out and reflect as you go on what is effective and what isn't. Tweak things as needed until you feel comfortable and like you're working with yourself instead of actively fighting against yourself.
I think I'm making it sound more stressful than it is, but graduating early or otherwise managing large workloads isn't usually an easy process for anyone. I think of it as a battle I have with myself to be the very best that I can be each day, which requires a lot of discipline, training, and mindfulness of my thought processes. I don't always win this fight, but I take note of what didn't work and then try again the next day and the next to do better. Best of luck to you in your education!
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tiny love | chapter 15
â” as tooruâs younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime is easy. your feelings arenât ignored, either. funny how things work out, huh? warnings: f!reader, mildly suggestive? wc: 1k m. list | ch. 14 â ch. 15.
July, 2021
You woke up earlier than usual.
The blind fluttered gently with the whirr of your ceiling fan, letting the light peter in and out of your room. There was a balminess to the air, the thrill of summer inherent in each passing moment. The thought of running around in this weather was abhorrent to you; but thankfully, you werenât the one who was going to be on the volleyball court.
The morning was heavy with anticipation, yearsâ worth of work and toil aching to come to fruition. This day had taken far too long to get here â and yet, it had all happened so fast. Where did the time go?
âMorninâ,â Iwaizumi murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. His voice was so warm, still swaddled in drowsiness. It was a beautiful sound.
âGood morning,â you smiled, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze.
A sleepy Hajime was a rare sight. He usually woke up much earlier than you, squeezing in a morning run before having his morning shower and preparing breakfast for the two of you.
Itâs not that you were tired of being pampered like that â you were sure only a few people could say their husband prepared them a nutritionally balanced breakfast each and every morning, and you werenât about to take that for granted â but⊠it was always nice to see him like this.
âYou excited?â You hummed. You didnât need to explain what you meant. The two of you had this date marked on the calendar hanging in the kitchen for months now.
âMhm.â You could hear the smile in Hajimeâs voice.
Heâd worked hard. Very hard. And finally, heâd made it to the world stage. Even if he wasnât going to be playing on the court himself, you knew Hajime had poured so much into this. And Tooru had made good on his end of the promise; today, Japan would be standing against Argentina, with Oikawa Tooru leading the charge.
âItâs finally your chance to take him down,â you grinned, turning around to face him. âThink you can do it?â
âAbsolutely,â Hajime chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. âHe hasnât shut up about it all week.â He sighed, but you knew he was fond. After all, youâd heard his phone blowing up all week.
(âTooru again?â You grinned at your husband as he looked down at his phone with an expression that could only be described as âmildly perturbedâ.
âWhat do you think?â)
Your legs interlocked absent-mindedly, tangled together in your thousand-thread count silk sheets. Even in the summer, you appreciated his warmth. Thereâs something about Hajime that was always so comforting; that made you feel like, no matter what, everything would be okay so long as you were in his arms.
Once, this life seemed impossible â especially with Hajime. Living in a little apartment in Tokyo, both university graduates, both full-time employees in your respective fields.
Married, for two years now. Long enough for your parents to start asking you about when theyâll be getting more grandkids. Amaya had already staked her claim on being the godparent of your first-born.
(âYouâre gonna have three,â she said, with such confidence that you almost agreed with her.
âThree? Why three?â You chuckled, shaking your head.
âBecause you grew up like that,â she shrugged. âYouâre gonna think that one kid is too lonely, and that two might not get along. So, three it is.â)
Iwaizumi absent-mindedly ran his thumb over the cool metal of your wedding ring â an understated gold band, perhaps the simplest design anyone could pick. But you knew Iwaizumiâs never been one for frivolities; as soon as youâd gotten engaged, heâd started a savings account for your future together.
Tooru had made fun of him for it, of course. Something about how he was being too âseriousâ â Hajimeâs retort had been something to the effect of âwhat, you donât want me to be serious about your sister?â Tooru had promptly shut up after that.
Somehow, despite the implicit chaos that came with placing Tooru, Matsukawa and Hanamaki in a single room, your wedding had gone well. Tooru had cried during his best man speech, of course â but not without wheedling in a thinly veiled threat or two. Amaya had also cried during her maid of honour speech. Her threats were a tad more direct.
Iwaizumiâs favourite photo from your wedding was framed on the kitchen wall. He wasnât even in it â it was just you, looking radiant in your wedding dress, beaming at the camera as you smothered Tooruâs face with your bouquet. Your brotherâs arms were failingly wildly, a barely legible blur of corduroy.
But Hajime was far too bashful to put up your favourite photo, though; it was of the kiss that sealed the deal, with an out-of-focus Tooru looking absolutely aghast in the background.
Many other photos littered your walls â photos of your time together in California, with all the friends youâd made there, photos of your honeymoon through Europe, taken in front of all the cheesiest tourist traps, photos of the odd date or two, scattered throughout the years.
There were plenty of photos with the Japanese volleyball team, too. You remembered Hinata from your high school days â the little red-headed rocket who blazed his way through Miyagi. And you knew Kageyama, of course. Everyone else had been a mystery. But one thing was obvious â they all trusted Hajime completely.
Hajime propped himself up over you, his elbows placed either side of your head. You smiled, running your hands over his thick, muscular shoulders and moving to cup his jaw. Hajime gazed at you with unrestrained fondness â a look you knew youâd never tire of.
He leant down and pressed his lips against yours in a kiss.
A slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that still took your breath away. You let yourself melt into it, sighing against him softly. If you had the time, youâd get lost in this moment, get lost in him. But there was too much to do today. Too much on the line.
Hajime pulled back, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed at you with half-lidded eyes. âI love you.â
Your heart would never get tired of hearing that. âI love you too.â
#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi hajime x reader#haikyuu x reader#iwaizumi x you#iwaizumi hajime x you#tiny love#it's finally over#i'm going to sleep for seven years
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Title: Lovebug (14/14)
Summary:
âIt might be a bug.â
âA bug?â
âSometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting Iâm sure soâŠIsnât it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each otherâs alarms?â
Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.
Link to cross-postings: AO3
Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12Â 13
Notes: I know I usually post on Wednesdays but I'll be on the road on Wednesday and if I don't get this out soon, I'll probably end up dropping it next week or smthg so here it is. Two days early. I hope you enjoy :D
Is this all that there is to life? A glaring question that came unexpectedly, in between reading through codes for his nth freelance project the past few years.
In response, Levi closed his eyes, sat back and reflected. A part of him may have been asking that question for a while and slowly, Levi started to understand why he was asked that in the first place.
A few minutes ago, he had been strangely happy to see his code compiling at the first try. And just a few hours ago, he had been enthusiastic at running a debugger through a code and finding a few typos to fix.
Happiness. That was happiness right?
That part of him continued to nag. It soured that 'happiness,' leaving a burning dissatisfaction inside him. Youâve experienced better moments, happier moments.
Then Levi got fed up. He reached into the back of his mind, he remembered, then something stopped him from reminiscing for a while longer.
Something strange. Something buried.
He hadnât allowed himself to feel much since he first moved into that new city. He had allowed the novelty and the business to carry him through his first months. But the novelty of a new beginning never lasted long.
Too shaken to even bother applying for a new job, Levi opted to work freelance. Consequently, his only companions were the four walls of his studio apartment and the occasional voices from next door.
There was only so much which could stimulate interest. His mind continued to search for them and naturally, time continued to move along with it. Routine and episodes of ennui seemed to last infinities in the moment. But in retrospect, it felt like they all happened too fast.
He had made sense of time in milestones, milestones worth ten times the refreshing feeling of running a debugger through code or the fleeting euphoria of compiling codes at the first try.
Is that all that there is to life? Eventually, he made sense of that strange voice. There was reason to that question.
That day was another milestone. If it wasn't for his nagging mind, he could have missed it.
It was a blustery autumn day in late October, the weather similar to the last view he had of his home five years ago. Shifting his gaze from the window of his present apartment, he took a quick look at the calendar and it was like a dam had ended up spilling open inside him.
The five year mark was a bittersweet milestone, five years since he left home. The fifth year rang more loudly than every year before that. Maybe because five was such a perfect number, or perhaps because he had been keeping something in for a while.
He felt a release. Then a reprieve from the monotony, a reprieve from the five years avoiding his old life. Levi found himself opening his browser tab, typing the words âlove alarmâ on the search box and deleting it a second later.
An aimless and useless sequence of movements. He didnât need a quick google search to know how it was doing.
The love alarm had become a household name even all the way in his side of the world. With his very human need to go out, whether it be for groceries, shopping or just some fresh air, Levi couldnât completely ignore it. With the right decisions, Levi could choose not to give so much as a side glance at the people walking, heads bent down, staring at the number of hearts on their application.
When he went out though, even with his music at full blast, he would hear the familiar alarm as he walked through crowds.
At first, it had left a pang in his chest, a brief bout of nausea, perhaps disgust or embarrassment at his old life.
It had been five years since he first arrived though and it turned out, time did heal.
Levi looked through the wikipedia page of the love alarm and he found, it hurt more like a raw scar than a stab in his chest or a crushing weight. The nausea, the pang in his chest that plagued him years before were weak if almost nonexistent.
Curiosity took over.
He took his phone from the side of his desk and downloaded the application again. The name Jaeger was under the title screen and right next to it were the words âAll rights reserved.â
Would would have felt like an ache in the chest years ago, felt more like a mosquito bite. Levi was just slightly annoyed. It did nothing to stop him though from registering again and looking through the application interface.
Nothing much had changed. There were some slight changes to the skin of the registration page, a change in the name of the company at the bottom. Levi purposely touched the activate button rapidly and found he had crashed the application.
That was one bug that he never got to fix. He turned his phone to the side, noting the way the screen glitched as it adjusted to the landscape orientation of the phone. Another bug Levi never got to fix.
Then he wondered who the developer on the other end had been to have never even caught it.
Biometrics registered, Levi activated the alarm to find no hearts. He couldnât help but entertain that slight disappointment. Of course no hearts would have appeared though. He hadnât even interacted with his neighbors.
It would have been creepy it rang. Letting out a sardonic laugh just loud enough for himself, he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling, forcing his thoughts back to whatever coding freelance project heâd been dealing with a few minutes ago.
Work came in freelance projects. They were enough for rent, for savings and some capacity to eat out occasionally.
A simple yet comfortable life. But is that all that there is to life? That voice continued to tear into his work related thoughts. Levi gave in to the nagging thought again. He started scrolling through wikipedia articles detailing use, detailing acquisition history, he found another key word under related articles, more interesting than âlove alarm.â
Mood Alarm.
It sent a strange shiver through the back of his neck. Levi rolled his shoulders, relieving the tension that came with the last few eons of reflection. He let out a whistle, opened the new article and scrolled down towards references.
There were lists of articles.
Partner of Zeke Jaeger and freshly minted PhD graduate Doctor Hange Zoe release Mood Alarm.
Doctor Hange Zoe. Something inside him was fighting for control. He couldnât bring himself to click the link. At the same time though, there was this curiosity inside him that he couldnât seem to get to the bottom of.
Under the link to the article was the official website.
At the front page, there was a boring and overly professional introduction Levi didnât bother to read
Below them, everything else had been interesting enough to give more than a second long glance.
The list of functionalities. The color codes. Then newly launched dashboard functionalities, almost a carbon copy of the plan Levi had sent years back.
âFucking hell, you actually did it,â Levi muttered. He couldnât help but just allow the smile that tugged at his lips some control. Excitement had him searching for the application on the play store, downloading it and methodically going through the same registration process as the love alarm.
It didnât look much like the mood alarm Levi had worked on years ago. He saw hints of it though and worked from there to admire it.
The front end had been cleaned up. The font chosen fit the silver-to-white gradient of the application. When Levi clicked âactivate,â the screen loaded.
The colors mixed against one another for a second, an aesthetic choice of animation that Levi couldnât help but be amused with.
Red. Yellow. Blue. Purple. Green. Orange.
The colors continued to mix. Then some disappeared as if they had lost themselves in some colorful war.
Then it was only blue and yellow. The two colors danced against one another for a few seconds longer before they disappeared too. More specifically, they bundled against one another.
Green. It took him at least five seconds to get that reading.
He didnât have to look at the guide on the website to know what it meant.
Sad happy? Or happy sad? Whatever that feeling was, Levi felt no need to introspect, or maybe he had been too lazy to.
It had been a while since he had even let himself feel something. The green on his screen, the feeling that accompanied it, seemed more like an old friend he hadnât talked to a while.
If he had any ability at introspection, maybe it had already rusted. Still, he let those emotions inside him, that yellow and that blue do their work.
They had him turning off the mood alarm, then turning off the love alarm. Something inside him still hesitated to delete the applications. Then it had him considering the space on his phone for just a second.
He downloaded another app that night. A familiar app with a flame, then another one with a bee. Only months into his new life in a new city with a new job, Levi was already boredâ and if he had to admit itâterribly, terribly lonely.
And maybe the best way to cure it was to spend the whole night swiping.
***
Finding a companion wasnât as easy as desperation and a few second long rush of confidence made it out to be.
Perhaps, online dating was a rash idea, an uncharacteristic move.
Didn't he reject Petra years ago? How could he date anyone else? Petra⊠How is she⊠With nothing much to do but wait for his date, he found himself texting Petra as he waited in the cafe.
He sent a few thank you messages at her well wishes. They exchanged brief updates and Petraâs own updates dragged on for longer.
Her life was more eventful than his.
Petra had started dating Oluo. She had found someone who loved her, just as much as she loved him. Keeping a correspondence with her only highlighted points for reflection for Levi. The more he reflected, the more questions came up. The more he reflected, the more complicated the questions became.
He was lonely but could he be picky? At the same time, did he even have the heart to put anyone through the shitty experience of a half hearted courtship?
Hangeâs words echoed in his head, not in any specific string, a few parts in words, a few parts in phrases.
Considering the circumstances⊠Love is a choice.
When he let her words echo through him, he managed to grip a presence long gone. A presence and a relationship, he clarified, that had never been his in the first place.
He never did completely brush away the guilt that accompanied every passing thought of Hange. There was this strange acceptance though that appended it, and it had him a little more discerning, a little more prudent.
If he couldnât have her, he could always just keep her close in his own personal way.
âHave you heard of the love alarm?â
How long had she been there? How long had she been talking?
Right, Levi was on a date. She had said words before that question and Levi could have sworn they had exchanged greetings even before that.
âIn passing,â Levi said. He manifested some reality from the words, as if a firm response was enough to forget decades worth of overtime and testing.
âItâs this application we can use to test compatibility⊠So at least we know if this could work.â
Levi listened with some fake intent as she explained how the love alarm worked. He made sure to nod at points where her tone had gone a little higher or louder.
âWhat do you think?â There was some finality to her voice, an expectant look on her face.
Levi hummed in thought.. âI donât believe in using an app to check compatibility. What about when we consider circumstances? Get to know each other⊠Then decide if it could work?â
She looked at her phone for a second, then back at Levi, her brows furrowed in confusion.
Levi shook his head. âSorry, I just donât believe in things like the love alarm, it seems just like horoscopes or Myer Briggs to me. Compatibility, relationships, theyâre just gonna be choices we make anyway.â He found himself guiltily looking away as he said those last points.
The pout that played at his dateâs lips was evidence enough, there probably wouldnât be a second date. âItâs not like our love alarmâs would have rung anyway,â she said.
It had been a while since Levi dated though and he started to realize, maybe his filter and his social skills had rusted just a bit.
***
Love is a choice.
It looked like he might have been the only one to believe that. He had managed to piss off countless other dates with his own âlove is a choiceâ schtick.
And he had been dating semi regularly for the past year already. Yet, nothing was coming up fruitful.
How the hell did Hange even manage to get married? Or maybe Hange had just been the exception. He then concluded, Hange just had too many other loveable qualities which could make anyone want to snap her up early on.
The more he entertained the thought of Hange, the heavier his own chest became. Then he stopped entertaining her then the cycle would start again, a very vicious cycle.
It just so happened that sometimes the thought of âHangeâ manifested as some domineering thought. âLove is a choiceâ and the strange sensation that came with his whole body protesting, rebelling in their own little way worked hand in hand.
He was confused and consequently desperate enough to open the mood alarm for some inkling of comprehension. He would focus on the way the colors switched among one another, disappearing, always revealing a yellow and a light blue dancing between one another then always ending with a light blue.
Sometimes he was blue. Sometimes he was green.
Ane he continued to check. After all, he mood alarm had become a beautiful and constant companion. He had deleted the love alarm but kept the mood alarm close.
âWhat do you think of the love alarm?â
How many people are gonna ask about that fucking application?
Zeke had just been a little too good at marketing. It was the nth time someone had broken the ice of a first date with that fucking question and Levi regretted not making a drinking game out of it. Maybe he would have been able to drink enough to forget that cursed product.
âAre you okay?â his new date asked.
He had spent the past few minutes too silent, not thinking. âNifaâŠâ That was her name right? He cleared his throat. âIâm fine.â
She looked as nervous as he did, or even more nervous. That part was comforting at least. In a way, her demeanor seemed a little more pleasant, more genuinely curious than wary. âI asked just a second ago, have you ever used that love alarm?â she said in response.
Levi followed the same script. "In passing."
âWould you like to try it out? Just to make sure weâre on the same page, relationship wise.â
âIâd rather we relied on circumstances and compatibility to make the choice for us. Get to know each other maybeâŠâ When it came to suggestions, Levi had revised his script just a bit. Too many people got offended by his invalidating horoscopes and Myer Briggs type for some weird reason. âLike get to know each other, likeâŠâ Levi trailed off for a second, allowing himself a pregnant pause. â... Elizabeth and Darcy?â
Nifa had cocked her head to the side curiously, thought for a long second and smiled just a bit wider. âYou read Pride and Prejudice?â
Levi nodded subtly. âA while back,.â
She paused for a second, seeming deep in thought. âWell⊠Now that I think about it, you might be right,â Nifa said. âThis compatibility thing⊠Your idea of love. I think it makes sense.â
âReally? You think so?â
âYeah, why?â Nifa asked.
Levi dropped his shoulders in relief, the weight of at least a hundred failed dates fell off his shoulders. âIâve been dating for years and I feel like youâre the only one who actually said that.â
Nifa didnât reply immediately and the longer Levi sat there, the more clearly he saw her face. Surprise morphed into something that seemed more like pity. Then, the chronic pang in his chest came back.
A first love did that to people maybe? A painful first love lost had that special power to maybe just twist his own philosophies, to make him almost disgusted at his own creations and the way it had challenged his own convictions.
Are you scared? Levi thought to himself. He couldnât be too sure how he was handling himself in front of Nifa. He looked down at his hands, opening and closing them a few times and if he looked closely, he could almost feel those uncomfortable twinges in his wrist that came from years of coding.
âIâm willing to put the time into it if you are.â Nifaâs voice was more gentle and it flowed as if she had sensed the stiffness in his voice.
Levi didnât respond immediately and suddenly their little corner of the crowded cafe was eerily silent. There was a melancholy that had blanketed their little corner despite the Saturday afternoon crowd.
Nifa seemed like she was trying to break away from it with some light conversation. âHey, have you heard of the mood alarm?â
âThe mood alarm?â Levi let that half smile creep up his lips, just high enough to be more invisible than obvious. Three words from a stranger and his emotions were reduced to a mess.
He once again felt that twinge again at his rests and that sleepless night, and her. He was remembering her in his office through sleepy exhausted eyes, with a cocktail dress and a sandwich bag in one hand.
There was also something amusing and painfully ironic about hearing his own brainchild, from someone so casually, as if it had turned into some household name while he wasnât looking.
The conversation was getting painful, painfully interesting and the masochist in Levi was gripping him and pulling him back to reality. âLike the love alarmâŠâ Levi added.
âWell, theyâre products from the Jaeger corporation⊠You know the Jaeger family right?â Nifa added.
Levi could only be thankful he hadnât been sipping at his tea then. He probably could have choked. How could he ever forget Zeke Jaeger?
He might have gotten a lot better at hiding his own disgust or Nifa could have been too deep in thought. She continued to talk. âThey bought Love Alarm a few years back.â
âI know the Jaeger family,â Levi said.
âSo you know about their eldest son, the heir of the Jaeger corporation⊠And his partner?â
Levi took a sip of tea, not bothering to respond.
Nifa may have taken that as a âno.ââHis partner was working towards a PhD in psychology and apparently that was her final project. The codes for the mood alarm are very similar to the love alarm apparently."
âOh?â Levi asked, feigning interest.
Soon, it turned into something genuine. Nifa was offering new information. âShe got the PhD a few years ago and soon after that, the application was launched. And now theyâre launching a solution for hospitals.â
âWhat kind of solution?â Levi asked.
âWait, have you ever used the mood alarm? Or do you know how it works?â Nifa asked. âAnyway, I realized I ended up digressing here⊠The point I was trying to make is, the one who developed the mood alarm was able to prove that whatever measurements they use for the love alarm, are related to emotions. And what if, understanding how we feel when we work towards a relationship is a better determinant of whether the relationship could work?â
Levi nodded quickly, an attempt to be polite. At that point though, he wasnât too interested in the point she had been trying to make âIâm familiar with the application and how it works. But you mentioned something about a solution for hospitalsâŠâ He didnât think it was worth lying. He didnât need a long winded explanation of the alarm he made. He needed an explanation of what Hange had been making."
Nifa didnât seem to get the message. âSo, the application will determine your emotions for you--- I have one right now and we could use it over time to articulate how we feel.â She pulled out her phone and dropped it on the table. âI think analyzing our own emotions would do a better job than relying on how the love alarm processes the emotions.â
There was something surreal about seeing a user explain it to him, as if they knew it more than him.
For a while, he couldnât help but just entertain the possibility that in her own way, Nifa may have known more. With someone explaining and demonstrating, he was more easily able to make sense of the changes that had been implemented since Hange acquired it.
The app icon was reminiscent of the love alarm, two rings around it but instead of a heart in between, there was an icon, an elegant cross between a flower and a color wheel.
Red. Blue. Yellow. In between the primary colors were purple, green and orange.
Nifa activated it and held the phone between her fingertips. Just like the night when Levi had first played with it, the colored blobs swam amongst one another again, each blob would disappear one by one, leaving the remaining colors.
Yellow and Orange. âLooks like Iâm happy,â Nifa commented. âSo apparently the new dashboard allows us to connect this reading on the phone to a PC and get a more detailed explanation, numbers, heart rate, all the like.â
âYou seem to know a lot about the app,â Levi mused.
Nifa cocked her head to one side. âWell, Iâm into psychology too. I work as a psychologist in one of the hospitals. Our hospital is one of the first ones to buy software licenses so Iâve done my research.â She hummed, looking straight at him for a second as if studying him. âNow that I think about it, your job wasnât on your profile. What do you do for a living?â
Leviâs response was automatic. âIT work.â He was suddenly self conscious about even mentioning the word âdeveloper.â
âOoooh... So youâd probably figure out how this app works much faster than I would.â Nifa sighed. âAnd you could probably help reassure me about this."
âReassure you about what?â
âIâm honestly pretty nervous about rolling out this software.â
âWhy?â
âWell, itâs relatively new, a few bugs would come up here and there.â
âAll softwares are going to face new bugs with every update. Itâs never ending,â Levi said nonchalantly.
âSpoken like a true IT guy,â Nifa joked. She took a sip of her shake and stared down at his tea and up at him again. âSay, since youâre in IT, you think you can hook us up with someone?â
âHook you up with someone?â Levi asked. His mind was going places more suited for a tinder date than a conversation on career. He raised one eyebrow in question. He couldnât be too sure of what she meant just yet.
It looked like she had started to understand that double entendre. Nifa blushed then let out a cough. âNo, no. Our company is looking to build a small support team.â
âAn IT support team?â Levi asked.
âWell, people who could focus on learning the product, dealing with whatever bugs, testing them, compiling them and sending them over to the Mood Alarm team. You think youâd know anyone tech savvy? Maybe familiar with how biotechnology works?
âI could try to look aroundâŠâ Levi said.
âGreat!â Nifa chimed
By some magic, the conversation shifted elsewhere. Nifa had a way with conversation, keeping some sort of a flow, talking about her own job and getting him to talk about his freelance projects.
Leviâs thoughts on the hospital solution though were an ubiquitous part of his mind space.That was the whole point of the investment right? Back then, Zeke and Hange had plans on selling it to hospitals.
And there was a free trial. That night, Levi had been curious enough to click the âbook a free trial buttonâ and to even fill out the first few lines.
Organization name? He didn't have one.
Purpose? To catch up with his own brain child maybe.
He ended up staring at the blank screen for a while, wondering where the hell he would get an organization and a valid purpose.
He wanted to check it out, he really did. And he was a little salty that they required a background check before they even allowed trials for a project he created.
Curiosity became desperation. With desperation, came creativity, audacity. He took his phone with the intention of just asking Nifa a few questions, only to see there was an unread message from her.
Thanks for today! I had a lot of fun. Hopefully, we can plan something soon. I might be busy with work this week but maybe the week after?
Levi stared at her message and composed a quick reply, pleasantries forgotten.
You mentioned something about IT support openings in the hospital...
***
The hiring manager introduced himself as Moblit but he didn't say much else. Instead, he spent the next few minutes looking through Levi's resume, his brow wrinkled.
"Is there something wrong with my resume?" Levi asked, breaking the silence. He had kept it minimalistic, only sticking to odd jobs the past five years.
Moblit shook his head. "Nothing, it just doesn't look like you have support role experience."
"Do I need experience in a support role? I think I'm familiar enough with how apps work to stand in as one," Levi said. Should he mention that he had done the support work before?
"So you've compiled tickets, sent them over to developers?"
I'm the developer who deals with those bullshit tickets. He thought to himself. On the outside though, he nodded and leaned a bit more forward on the table. It wasnât too difficult to show interest. He was genuinely interested, having given in to that curiosity-turned-desperation.
"Well, if you're interested in taking the job thenâŠâ Moblit said. âLet's see how much you know about the mood alarm app." He opened a folder. "It's a relatively new solution, so I don't expect you to know much but if you've heard of the love alarm?"
"I have."
"Well they're from the same corporationâŠ"
Information on their history flew into one ear and out the other. "Do you have any more questions for me?" Levi asked. He could have interrupted Moblit there but he didnât want to hear about a history he actually experienced first hand.
Moblit cleared his throat. "Well, if you could tell me how you think the mood alarm works? Then Iâll give you a list of common bugs and can you tell me how you will go about raising them to developers?
***
Six years hadnât done much to make him forget. He had been working with the love alarm for almost a decade after all.
And the mood alarm? He had a strange connection to it, he couldnât explain.
The code wasnât open source. Of course it wouldnât. That was an enterprise application and they wouldnât want any hacker just randomly getting it. Yet, why did he feel so offended at not having access?
âHey Levi, how would you handle this?â
âHandle what?â Levi didnât look up from his monitor immediately. The voice and the question have all were all too familiar and it wasnât urgent anyway.
âLevi, take a lookâŠâ Farlan seemed more frustrated than a second ago.
Levi looked at Farlanâs screen. Another display issue. He was all too familiar with the bugs and it looked like the love alarm and the mood alarm were coming up with the same issues. âClick the activate button three times really fast, right click the desktop, select inspect and take a screenshot. We send it over to the developers on the mood alarm team,â Levi said. That had become routine after a while, yet somehow, his two colleagues Farlan and Isabel were still asking questions.
Maybe because he was the only one who understood what the hell the developers needed to see to actually get to the bottom of the problem.
âMake sure to check it in both light mode and dark mode,â Levi said. âAnd also, thereâs a known bug for the phone app, check if turning on the alarm affects your ability to receive notifications from other apps.â Those words had sent a wave of nostalgia through him. That was one of the bugs he had gotten around to fixing with the love alarm.
âHey...âIsabelâs voice sounded from next to him. Levi turned around, almost jumping when he saw she had been close enough to look over his shoulder. âWhat are you researching?â
It wouldn't look good if he slacked off at work in front of colleagues a good few years his junior. Levi closed the tab. âJust my own research on mood alarm.â And when he looked at his codes a little longer, then back at Isabel who seemed almost confused, Levi realized it had looked more like extra work than anything else.
He spent the whole morning on âextra work, watching the API calls, making notes to himself to check the codes he had sent Hange years back just to see how much had changed.
âYou finished all your tasks today and you still wanna do research on the mood alarm?â Farlan asked, a look of utter amazement on his face.
âWhat can I say? This app is pretty interesting.â it wasnât a lie. Watching the growth of his own child from afar, was a fun thing to do.
âIt honestly feels like youâve done this type of work before."
âI did something similar,â Levi said.
âWhat kind of place did you work in before?â Isabel asked excitedly, her tasks also forgotten.
âI donât wanna talk about it,â Levi answered, his tone unchanged.
âSomething like the love alarm?â
Levi nodded. âMaybe thatâs the reason I can figure things out pretty fast,â he said. The best plan of action was to digress.
âSo that means we could make you handle the harder cases?â Farlan snickered.
âIâd rather you learn how to deal with others on your own,â Levi said. âIâve worked with these apps for a long time. The bugs never end.â
***
âMoblitâs saying youâre doing a pretty good job picking out the bugs,â Nifa spoke above the bustle of the lunch time crowd.
âAre we?â Levi asked. He kept his words brief, not wanting to waste too much energy speaking over the others in the hospital cafeteria.
âWell, he was talking about you mostly,â Nifa said. âMost big issues get resolved with each release. And Moblit was saying that our support team just gives really good feedback.â
âThe developers do the work. All we do is find the bugs.â Levi started to pick more meticulously at his salad
Nifa shook her head. âI think the support team deserves credit too. Itâs difficult figuring out whether issues are user issues or thereâs really a bug. Isabel also told me you find ways to reproduce it quickly.â
âDo I?â His responses were getting less and less creative. There just wasnât much to say and the compliments were making him more and more uncomfortable by the second.
Moblit was a life saver. He had broken out of the crowd, running to Nifa, an urgent but excited expression on his face. âNifa, youâve got to hear this.â
Levi used that brief distraction to shovel more salad into his mouth.
Moblit had spoken just beneath the sounds of other conversations and Levi couldnât make out what he had said. He did make out the urgency in Nifaâs face and the excitement. Whatever Moblit had said was contagious.
âWhen are they coming?â Nifa asked, her voice much louder than Moblitâs.
Levi stood up, gathering his plate, his utensils and his unfinished salad. âIf Iâm not supposed to be in this conversationâŠâ
Moblit shook his head. âLevi, no, please stay. Iâd rather you hear this since this is related to your line of work too.â
âWhy?â Levi raised one eyebrow.
âZeke Jaeger and his partner Doctor Hange Zoe, theyâre planning to visit,â Moblit said.
Levi couldnât even tell what expression he had on then.
Maybe Moblit had interpreted shock as confusion. âZeke Jaeger is the owner of the love alarm. Hange Zoeâs the creator of the mood alarm⊠In case you didn't know.â
***
âHey, I wanna see her⊠Is this how she looks like?â Isabelâs voice was a whisper, a very loud whisper. âShe looks smart.â
Farlanâs voice wasnât any softer. âWell, thatâs what youâd expect from the mastermind behind the mood alarm right? I heard Zeke Jaeger bought her the love alarm so she could look through the code and make the mood alarm for herself.â
âWhere did you hear that?â Isabel asked.
âWatch the interviews.â
The click and clack of the keyboard. Then there was the sound of voices coming from the loud speaker from Farlanâs computer.
Then Hangeâs very familiar voice.
Levi didnât want to listen. âYou know, if you spend too much time looking through this. Youâre not gonna get anything done.â He forced his voice into something louder than what he was comfortable with. âDonât you two have other tasks to do?â
âArenât you excited to meet them?â Isabel rolled her chair next to Levi.
No way in hell am I meeting them. âIâm planning on taking a leave,â he said.
âWait, why?â Isabel seeming heartbroken, as if Levi taking a leave was the most terrible thing in the world.
âWell, as employees weâre entitled to leaves right?â Levi asked emotionlessly, willing himself not to at all be affected by Isabelâs puppy dog face.
Farlan sighed. âYouâre the best one at this type of work among the three of us. You know, this is a good opportunity for you to get noticed.â
âI donât wanna get noticed,â Levi said, as he focused back again on the screen, refreshing their ticketing software a little bit faster that time. It really was an uneventful afternoon. He couldnât blame Farlan and Isabel for doing nothing.
âItâs a big money, a chance at a big career move,â Farlan said, raising his voice as if that could have done anything to convince Levi.
Levi looked up from the monitor and back to Farlan. âDo you really want me out of here?â
Farlan shrugged. âI dunno, you just seem too overqualified for this kind of job.â
Levi sighed. âBelieve me, Iâm happy to be here.â He continued to click refresh, just in case anything could have halted that already seemingly awkward conversation. The reason why he didnât want to run into Zeke or Hange⊠Was it written all over his face?
Just in case Farlan and Isabel were mind readers, Levi kept quiet, kept his eyes glued on the screen and he prayed the day would get busier somehow.
It did. But it got busy so close to the end of the day and overtime seemed inevitable.
âWeâre not receiving any readings.â
The same exact fucking line, from ten different customers from different hospital branches around the country. âYouâre fucking kidding me,â Levi muttered.
He opened all the test devices, only to find, none of them were receiving readings from the mood alarm either. He was sure though, he was annoyed, very very annoyed. Maybe even angry. âTry testing,â he ordered.
Farlan and Isabel were more emotional than he was. If it didnât work for them, it probably wasnât working at all.
They had full trust on him. Isabel and Farlan nodded and they went through the devices quickly. All test devices exhausted and there was nothing much to do. Levi was convinced it was an issue that could only be investigated on the backend. âWeâre done for the day.â
âWe have to send a report right?â
Levi started to pack his bag. âSend a report saying weâre not getting any readings,â he said with a shrug. âItâs probably a backend issue or an issue with their API.â
âYou sure we canât do anything from our side?â Farlan pressed.
Levi shook his head. âNone.â He logged out, slung his backpack over his shoulder and exited the office.
He sensed their disappointment in him. In his months working there, Levi had never left the office without doing a thorough investigation and writing a detailed report.
That might be the first time in months, they would give something completely unhelpful for the developers. That wasnât Leviâs intention though. There were just some things that were better off investigated on his own personal PC.
For the first time in a while, Levi didnât go straight for the shower when he arrived back home. He booted up his own PC. When he checked his cloud account, he found the private repository with all the codes from the love alarm and the mood alarm was still there.
It hadnât been touched in years though.
He scrolled through the code, allowing that wave of nostalgic to wash over him gently. Having been the only one who worked on the base, Levi was very very familiar with it. Memories came quickly with the nostalgia. There was a point where the server was down and he remembered the hundreds of support tickets about the temporarily malfunctioning love alarm.
No readings were coming through. Levi did a quick calculation of the time zones of his own city and of the mood alarm headquarters. Then he looked through the code again.
Convinced that it was a fair theory, Levi opened his pseudo email, entered the support email for the mood alarm and left just one sentence on the email body.
Iâm convinced one of your devs left a debugger on one of these codes on the backend.
A few years ago, he had been guilty of leaving a debugger running overnight, Â fucking up the whole command system of the love alarm.
He copied and pasted a part of the code and the sent the email off. For all he knew, the mood alarm could have branched off far from the love alarm, rendering his theory completely stupid. Still, it was a theory worth entertaining.
The issues from work forgotten, Levi started to open his other emails, finding one from Petra on the third page, dated months ago.
Just a reminder that he hadnât opened that email in months. âA wedding invite?â
Petra Ral and Oluo Bozado invite you to celebrate their weddingâŠ
He didnât need the rest of it to convince himself to go. He only needed to look at the date under, conveniently a week after Hange and Zeke were scheduled to visit the hospital where he worked.
He sent off two emails that night.
One to Petra, a very very late RSVP.
Then one to management, a request for a two week leave. For personal reasons.
A wedding always made a good personal reason. That was probably only half his actual personal reason though.
***
âI didnât even expect you to come.â Petra seemed happy.
It could have been the make up or her natural blush. She was a glowing bride, glowing bright enough that Levi was starting to feel lonely.
âItâs been a while,â Levi said. âAnd you two are looking good.â
âHowâs life abroad?â Petra asked.
âItâs fine,â Levi said.
âYou adjusted well?â Petra asked again.
âYeah, I guess I did.â Levi took a sip of his wine.
âYou managed to get a software engineering job there?â That time it was Oluo who asked.
âSomething similar,â Levi said. He started to shake his glass a bit, feigning deep consideration. Maybe that would explain his inability to respond. In truth, he was in no mood to make conversation but when the bride and the groom had gone out of their way to sit next to him on the bench outside their party, and they had gone through all the trouble of asking, it was only polite that he kept his side of the conversation.
Somewhere along the exchanges, Petra brought up a question. And whether it had been appropriate or not, Levi couldnât tell but he thought it worth an answer at least.
âHave you met anyone?â Petra asked.
âWhat?â Levi responded.
âI dunno⊠I guess someone who makes you feel good? Someone who manages to ring your love alarm?â Petra gave him a knowing look.
Levi only had to shift his gaze from Petra to the seemingly blank face of Oluo to know, Petra had at least kept that part to herself. To the others, his alarm ringing with Hange could have been just a bug.
Levi shook his head. âI havenât touched the love alarm in years,â he admitted.
Petra seemed more understanding. âWe havenât touched it in years either.â
Levi raised his eyebrows. âReally?â
Petra stared ahead, looking deep in thought. She turned to Oluo. âWell, I guess a part of us wanted to build this organically, get to know each other first. And maybe thatâs the best way to find people. I think the love alarm just causes unnecessary chaos sometimes.â
Levi only had to look back at his past five years to see it. To be honest, he could actually put the blame on the love alarm for completely uprooting his life. He couldn't say he totally agreed though. He didnât regret the time with Hange either.
But he wasnât going to deny her credit where credit was due. âYou make sense.â
It wasnât as simple as that though. Somehow, Hangeâs own words had torn into the silence. Just for him. The love alarm causes chaos but sometimes it can tie loose ends.
And for him, it had been both. It had caused chaos but somehow, meeting Hange, having gotten to know her, having gotten to talk to her had tied some loose ends inside him.
What kind of loose ends? He couldnât be too sure.
âEven when you donât use the love alarm now, have you met other people?â Petra was still very interested in his love life.
Oluo should have been silently uncomfortable about that. Levi couldnât tell with a quick glance.
âIâve met a few people though⊠Thereâs someone named Nifa,â Levi said,
âNext time you come here, youâll take her for a visit? Make sure to introduce us to her?â Petra asked.
âOr maybe next time, it will be us visiting,â Oluo added.
The brief conversation ended soon after, with a few exchanged greetings and a promise to bring Nifa. In case something ever happened between him and NIfa.
By the end of the night, he had made a promise to himself not to use that love alarm to find his next love.
Petra was right, the love alarm could cause unnecessary chaos. Besides, love is a choice right?
***
Levi came back from his very relaxing two week leave to two words that made his stomach turn.
Doctor Zoe. That was what Farlan and Isabel called her.
âDoctor ZoeâŠâ Levi repeated. The words tasted unfamiliar. Suddenly, the road trip, the beach trip and just the quiet meetings in the cafe all seemed like just a fevered dream.
âAnd she stopped to talk to all of us!â Isabel sang, her eyes filled with wonder. âYou should have stayed. I swear, I feel like you would have gotten along. She never stops talking. You two could have talked about the mood alarm for hours.â
âShe sounds tiring to be with,â Levi said, an attempt at a halfhearted reply.
Farlan grinned, an alarmingly knowing expression on his face. âDonât lie, you would have enjoyed at least listening. Youâre way more enthusiastic about the mood alarm than we are.â
âIâm just being a good employee.â Levi shook his head, as if that was enough to erase the regret that shoved itself into his throat and down to his chest.
âShe really made sure to talk to everyone,â Isabel said. âAnd she stayed for a few days longer. Maybe the plans changed since she went alone.â
âWait, she came alone?â Levi said. Donât regret. Donât you dare regret leaving.
Farlan nodded in response. âMoblit explained this to us before they came.â He turned to Isabel as if expecting some explanation from her.
âI canât be too sure either, Iâve only heard a bit about it. And rich people like the Jaegers, they like to keep their personal lives a secret right?â Isabel answered.
Farlan shrugged. âAnyway, from what Moblit told me, they intended to visit all the major customers including our hospital chain. Theyâve been planning this tour for months, maybe even years but Doctor Zoe ended up going alone.â
âDid you ever find out why?â Levi kept his voice soft, anything louder and he might just look more invested. He turned back to the unopened tickets on his screen. From his peripherals, he could see Farlan and Isabel exchanging glances.
It was Farlan who spoke up. âI have a theory.â
âTell me,â Levi said.
âThey fought.â
âOkay, couples fight.â Levi continued to click at the tickets, opening them one by one, just to feel productive.
âYeah, but it must have been a big fight right?â Isabel added. âI did some research on Doctor Zoe after we met her and apparently, they were having problems even years ago. Apparently, there are rumors that her husband bought the love alarm to save their marriage.â
âWhere the hell did you get that info?â Farlan sounded incredulous.
Isabel chuckled mischievously. âThe dark, dark internet.â
âThat canât be true.â Farlan shook his head in disbelief.
âI canât really prove it anymore. A lot of the threads online that actually discuss this get taken down by the admin. But I swear, now that I think about it, it does make sense. I read some articles, no one expected Zeke Jaeger to buy the love alarm⊠Some said he did it to save the love alarm after a major bug showed up that could have prevented PRâŠ.Apparently, there was a certain point a few years ago, where there were photos of Doctor Zoe with another man. I tried looking for the photos but I canât find them anymore.â
âYou really got invested in her love life huh?â
Isabel groaned. âI couldnât help it. She seemed so nice and she talked to us a lot even when we were just support, she took the time to teach us and sheâs just so humbleâŠâ
âBut what if she really did cheat on her husband?â Farlan challenged. âI mean, the rumors have to have been there for a reason right?â
âDo you think she looks like the type to cheat?â Isabel asked. âThat very honest and open face?â
Farlan coughed in surprise. âShe doesnât for sure---but rumors donât come out of nowhere right?â
âYou two, go back to work,â Levi said. While the two had been working, he had been assigning tickets to them, an ingenious way to compose himself.
âWait not yet, what do you think Levi? You might have better intuition than we do.â
âIntuition?â Levi repeated, one eyebrow raised.
âDoes she really look like the type to cheat?â Farlan asked.
Levi continued to stare at the screen, not willing to risk showing them whatever expression played at his face then. âI didnât meet her. You two did so youâre better qualified to answer that question. Tell me, does she look like the type to cheat?â
Farlan paused for a second, then narrowed his eyes at Levi. âI think I have a question which you might be more qualified to answer,â Farlan said. âYouâre pretty good at finding bugs. Have you ever done research on the love alarm bug? What do you think the bug was⊠The one which made Zeke Jaeger buy the app?â
âI donât think there was a bug,â Levi said.
âWhat do you mean?â Farlan pressed.
âGet back to work you two.â Levi kept his voice firm, loud and authoritative. Something he would have rather not done, if it hadnât been for the weight which came with what should have been a light piece of gossip, and his whittling ability to keep a stoic demeanor.
The deep dark internet. Levi watched his two companions. Their eyes were once again fixed on the screen, Farlanâs fingers were flying over the keyboard, Isabel was playing with some test device.
Deep enough at work for Levi to take his own quick break. He opened an incognito tab and put his headphones on.
One video or one article, and heâd get back to work. He found an interview, the opening questions had been the same familiar ones Farlan had been playing on speaker months ago.
He played the first few questions at twice the speed. He knew the answers already.
What inspired you to make the mood alarm?
âLove alarm⊠Codes⊠YadayadayadaâŠâ Levi muttered just a loud enough for himself. Hange had been careful not to mention anything about a developer. He could see the way she had shifted gazes for just a second, seeming uncomfortable.
He couldnât blame her. Isabel had said so herself, in the deep dark internet, maybe there were rumors of an affair.
And some journalists were aware.
Personal Life? Around the point that someone asked about her personal life, Levi slowed the clip down. They had timed it, to the exact point where Hange had tensed up and looked away for just a second.
âCan you tell us about your relationship with Zeke Jaeger? How has it been?â
âHow did you feel when you realized he bought you the love alarm? Is it true he bought it to win you back?â
Hange was admirably professional about it. âWeâre digressing now,â she said with a light hearted tone, a laugh which seemed more rehearsed than actually Hangeâs.
Is it true you had an affair with another man? It wasnât loud enough for Hange to have heard it, just a sound among others. When Levi had been looking for that question and it rang more loudly for him. He rewinded the video a few times just to make sure.
What the hell⊠No we didnât⊠We. Didnât. Have. An. Affair.
âLevi, are you okay?â Isabel asked
âWhat?â
âYou were talking to yourself just now.â
Levi quickly closed the tab as Isabel looked over his shoulder. âNothing, just looking at tickets,â he said. He went back to their ticketing application, opened a few more tickets and decided to table the research until later that evening.
***
The deep, dark internet.
With his own personal wifi and his own VPN, Levi had more wriggle room to dig deeper.
There was a mention of a fight, a marriage on the rocks, and the rumors only grew from there. The more Levi found, the more courage he mustered. It turned out, the process of scrolling through threads, joining chat groups had been nothing but liberating.
Liberating but infuriating.
The internet was an aggregate of bad takes and the occasional good one. From bad takes came horrible half baked rumors.
I swear, if they end up divorcingâŠ
Jaeger should have dumped her fucking ass from the start.
SlutâŠ
WhoreâŠ
Hange Zoe. Fucking gold digger.
There were rumors that she had manipulated Zeke for the money. Rumors that she had only married him to complete her PhD.
Levi quickly went through those.
Some of the people were nice though and Levi read those comments a little more slowly.
The mood alarm was Zoeâs deal.
The money Jaeger put into was a donation.
If theyâre not happy, let them divorce.
And there were videos, particularly zoomed videos in events of Zeke and Hange in conventions and conferences, the latest one only a few months ago. Before Hange  had visited the hospital.
In the most recent one, they were talking, just at the corner behind the stage, still visible from the camera. Levi rewinded the video again and again just to confirm their identity.
The Hange on the screen seemed indignant. Zeke had pulled her in by the waist, she pulled away. In response, Zeke had once again gone for her hands, pulling her towards him.
Just like back in the school gym.
It was different, that time in the gym Hange had been accepted yet determined at the same time. The Hange on the video, or the least, the one he could make out from the flailing of her hands, the stamping of her food on the ground, the moment she had pulled away then turned away was telling.
Hange wasnât accepting anything anymore.
Levi scrolled through the comments.
If Hange Zoe divorces Zeke Jaeger⊠If she keeps possession of the mood alarm... sheâs a gold digger.
She needed Jaeger funds to complete PhD⊠Itâs Zeke Jaegerâs PhD not hers lmao XD
It was around the fifth most liked comment when Levi closed the tab, not bothering to bookmark the site. That was enough internet toxicity for the day.
***
âYouâre transferring me?â Levi had ended up preempting the discussion.
Nifa and Moblit looked at each other, then back at him. Then Nifa nodded.
Moblit shook his head, creating some confusion. âNo, we wanted your opinion on this first. The city weâll be transferring you to isnât very⊠convenient.â
âBut you will be paid more,â Nifa said.
Since no one actually wants to live there. A fact no one actually admitted during those types of meetings but Levi had been in corporate long enough to know.
âAnd itâs just for a few years,â Moblit said, his tone, a tone of reassurance more than actual confidence. âOur hospital got special permission to do testing and research and weâll need one support guy there. This is an important project for our hospital so...â
Levi had done a quick google search of the city under the table, a name he never heard of, and just the picture of a very sleepy town with not many buildings with even two floors was indicative. There was a reason why Moblit and Nifa seemed uncertain about a transfer.
There wasnât much he did anyway in that city. How could moving away be any different?
âWhatâs this research about?â Levi asked.
Moblit responded to that more clearly and more confidently. âWeâre planning to do further research, create programs for kids who grew up in difficult households to help them process emotions better. Weâre starting with a few kids, on a small research facility up north⊠And having someone on call would be helpful.â
It didnât take much to convince Levi after that. âThere isnât much for me to miss here anyway.â Really, he would have taken that transfer even without the pay raise.
***
There was peace and quiet which came with living in the middle of nowhere. Peace and quiet had a way of making Levi unbearably bored yet at the same time more perceptive as to why the hell no one wanted to live there in the first place.
Winters were cruel, with snow piling up meters high. Even in the summers, the sky was overcast and in all four seasons, the air still found a way to be suffocatingly dry.
Someone mentioned something about lake effects and something about rain shadows, and Levi couldnât really tell which one was it. He wasnât a scientist after all.
He was human though, a very simple minded human with no science degree. So he let the weather affect his moods, maybe even affect his long term philosophies in life. His current environment was too different from the bustling city he grew up in, or the other urban jungle he had lived the past five years of his life, he deemed his new home, the epitome of the middle of nowhere.
It was completely unfamiliar and by some psychological consequence to Levi, it was too far flung from his old life for Levi to even entertain anything about his old life, beyond work. So it became easier to take a more pragmatic approach at reminiscing.
A few months into his transfer, he had even started reading articles on Zeke and Hange again.
Billionaire Zeke Jaeger finalizes divorce would Mood Alarm founder Hange Zoe.
Then the comments section:
That was fast.
I knew it, Zoeâs a gold digger.
There was the string of names, whore, sluts, cheaters and gold diggers that never made too much sense as sentences. So Levi quickly closed the tab.
You actually did it. He thought to himself. And when he thought a little longer about it, he realized he did feel happy for her.
Happy? Sad? Disappointed? Out of curiosity, he opened his own mood alarm and clicked activate. It glowed with a bright green.
He could have been happier.
Levi decided to blame the sky for his fickle mood. That grey view that stretched far unimpeded by any of the surrounding low rising buildings, only ending by the mountains that seemed hundreds of miles away.
The surrounding mountains and the large lake followed him to work. An overly scenic landscape that reminded him, the train back to the capital only came once a day, the train that passed through the next major city only passed three times a day.
And fucking hell, train tickets were expensive.
By some modern day definition, Levi really was trapped in the middle of nowhere.
The weather only made him more cynical, yet angrier at the tasteless comments under the news article on Zeke and Hangeâs divorce. As he neared the research center, he ended up tabling that reflection with one sentence, something comforting yet oddly depressing.
Hange wouldnât look for me. Then he brushed it away violently soon after. The audacity of even considering the prospect that he was important enough for her to want to search for him. Why would Hange care where he is?
The fact that Hange was followed by the press while he was trapped in the middle of nowhere was indicative enough. They were from two completely different worlds.
***
It may have taken months more, but what Levi clocked to a âbout of wanderlustâ eventually settled. He found, keeping himself busy with the right work had done wonders to placate the turmoil inside him.
Keeping busy somehow made it easier to sit up and get ready for work. It meant managing to desensitize his own moods to the weather around him.
Most importantly, it meant seeing some connection with the world, some sliver of motivation to go the extra mile with the people who worked with.
âEarly as always, Ackerman.â Same greeting everyday.
âMorning to you too, Onyankopon,â Levi responded as he entered the irsmall office.
Onyankopon was a companion  duringearly in the mornings, lunch times, late afternoons and sometimes, even the dinners when he would invite Levi out for a drink in the only bar for miles around.
Still, it made life remotely eventful when the only changing things had been the weather and his work.
And his work was very eventful.
âUncle Levi! Did you find any bugs yesterday?â Just like every other morning, the two kids would burst through the door. Or more specifically, the brunette was always the one bursting through the door, the blonde just followed.
âGaby, you might be bothering them,â Falco said. He said that at least three times a week.
Levi had never been the type anyway to tell them he didnât mind their morning visits. It always meant something to look forward to.
âNothing so far,â Levi said. He looked towards Onyakopon, the one in charge of reporting issues. âHopefully.â
Onyankopon raised his hands in defense. âDonât get mad at me, get mad at the devs who created the mood alarm in the first place."
Levi was constantly mad at the devs anyway, if he considered that constant state of self loathing. Working on the mood alarm as support had only made Levi realize how many shortcuts he had taken into making that damn application years ago.
âThereâs nothing today,â Levi said as he looked at the two kids. âBut I could give you a quick lesson,â he added. He couldnât say no to the crestfallen faces of the two kids.
He dragged one seat next to him and guided Gaby to one of them and Falco to his own seat. âWhen I want to look for errors in the code, I look here first.â It was a terribly boring lesson, a useless one. Support 101. At the least, the kids seemed satisfied. âIf I right click here, and then inspect, I can see what this website is made out of.â
Gaby let out a breath, a mix between a âwowâ and an âoh.â âI canât read it.â
âItâs another language,â Levi explained. âComputers donât understand our language. So we have to learn another language to be able to talk to them. And when weâre able to tell them what we want, theyâll do things for us, things we canât do ourselves.â
Gaby had asked more questions after that. Falco had asked his own too, albeit hesitantly.
The difference between the network and console tabs, the meanings of the strange brackets, what happens if they just aimlessly clickâŠ
That morning session ended with less than half the questions answered, and a promise to teach them more the next morning. Like every other day before, at eight in the morning, Onyankopon brought them to the activity room and Levi was left alone in the office.
There werenât many people in the research center, only five employees in total. After all, there were only ten to twenty kids who came and went every day, a very manageable number for five people. He and Onyankopon shared an office and with Onyankopon busy a good chunk of the day, Levi was left alone.
With his own efficient working methods and his outstanding ability to quickly pick out the bugs, Levi was usually free for a cumulated five hours a day.
When he first started working there, his five hour long breaks consisted of reading novels or whatever stupid article came up on his timeline. He could have taken longer breaks yet chose to spend them as short sporadic bouts of inactivity
By spreading out periods of inactivity, Levi managed to somehow pacify the guilt at âdoing nothingâ while being paid for the eight hours a day. There were times, it was strong, remnants maybe of his stint with the love alarm, barely taking leaves, willingly putting him through the pain of overtime.
Some days, they were particularly strong, sometimes incomprehensible that Levi suspected they could have been related to the burning curiosity, the burning attachment to his own application that never abated.
A burning attachment, a natural need to be productive eventually resulted in sporadic bouts of unproductivity spent just testing the mood alarm all for a brief look into his own emotions.
Even when he wasnât feeling anything in particular, the application continued to glow colors, just flitting between greens and blues. They could have been yellows or oranges maybe, when Onyankopon or Gabi or Falco visited. He had never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve though and thus, had never opened it with them around.
That day wasnât any different. Alone in the office, he opened it again, held it in his hands and watched the colored blobs swim amongst each other, mix amongst one another, then disappear.
Blue or Green? That day it was blue. Why blue and why not green? He could never ask. âHowâ was always an easier question to answer. He only had to connect his phone to the PC then boot up the dashboard.
His next break, he decided to try a visualization exercise, like every other time before.
Memories never seemed to do the trick. Heâd take a risk and dive deep, into his memories with Hange, his anger at the situation, the loss of a life before. Yet it all came out greens and blues. The alarm rang, an almost deafening sound in the silent room and for a split second, it had Levi attentive and a little paranoid. Levi knew though, with the thick concrete walls around him, it was a sound just for him.
He connected his phone to the dashboard and booted the PC again.
There were numbers. He switched to a bar graph view, noting how there were terms, hormones and chemicals he could only barely make sense of. But the blue and the green bars higher than usual yet still very low were signs in themselves.
That morning was a normal morning. And every morning since he built that habit had been a normal morning.
The only thing which ended up different about that day was when footsteps sounded just outside the door. If Levi had been listening closely, he would have been able to point out, those weren't a rhythm of footsteps he was particularly privy too.
But normal mornings tended to desensitize people. Footsteps werenât particularly interesting either.
In a town with only a few hundred people, it would most likely be someone who already lived there. He continued to work. He disconnected his phone from the dashboard and played with the mood alarm in his own phone again.
The door clicked open behind him, slowly enough for the creak to sound, then fast enough for the slam to come right after yet gently.
Onyankopon always opened the door a little wider, always slamming the door behind him and in between, there was always a greeting. If Levi had been more aware of his surroundings, maybe the lack of all that could have peaked his interest.
In the grand scheme of things though, the door slamming wasnât anything particularly interesting. Levi continued to sit and stare at his phone.
âLevi Ackerman.â
A voice in an empty room though, was always an interesting thing. By some natural inclination towards voices, any presence in a room that was always his by mid morning, Levi was listening.
Making sense of the voice was a surprisingly slow process. The mood alarm reacted first.
The alarm sounded.
A wave climbed from his chest up until his neck, there was a bristle at the back of his neck, a tickle at his ears, then something pricked at his eyes. He looked down at the alarm before he could completely understand. The colors continued to swim then mix.
They always disappeared and finalized the reading in five seconds.
A second or two passed, and the colors still didnât look at all in a hurry to disappear.
Youâre going crazy Levi. He took a deep breath. He was dreaming. Because what the fuck. Of course she wouldnât be here. She had an international company to run.
âLeviâŠâ The voice sang. âThatâs you right?â
Donât look back.
âOr maybe there are just a lot of developers named Levi in this world⊠â The footsteps were only getting closer. âDevelopers who are just really good at using the mood alarm.â Then the voice was right next to him.
When she had settled on that seat right at his peripherals, he couldnât exactly chalk it up to a fevered dream. The mood alarm in his hands continued to ring. He could have sworn at least five seconds had passed. Yet the colors never disappeared, countless colors still swimming around on the interface as the mood alarm continued to read his emotions.
Levi had never been a master of articulation. The war of colors, the chaos on the phone were the best visual representation. He struggled to find the right words, but she continued to stare from his peripherals, her face many things at once.
Apologetic? Expectant?
âIt is you,â she said, triumph and relief apparent in her tone.
That only pissed Levi off more. Another emotion added to his boiling pot. Eventually Levi thought it necessary to respond. With too little time, too little mindspace to even attempt to articulate, Levi kept himself to three words, the only three which could have meant everything at once.
âWhat the fuck.â
In response, she let out a soft laugh. âAre you crying?â
Crying? Now that Levi did think about it, there had been a crack in her voice too. Levi looked up to see her, smiling. Her eyes were smiling too. Then he followed the tear streak that barely grazed the side of her lip.
There was enough time, enough silence for Levi to gather himself. To stare at the reading on the application that couldnât seem to decide what emotion Levi was feeling.
With enough self discipline, enough concentration, Levi managed to speak. âHange, if you ask people why theyâre crying, youâre just gonna make it worse.â
***
There was only one tea shop in the town, a tea shop which naturally, Levi had chosen as his favorite hang out spot.
Over the months, he had grown familiar with it and in turn, it had grown to become an intimate friend. An intimate friend he had never expected to ever introduce to Hange.
Onyankopon and Moblit had joined them for tea though, and suddenly, Hange didnât feel like Hange. It could have been the way she shifted to an âall businessâ demeanor or maybe a part of him was still trying to rationalize what he had deemed to be a very irrational thought.
Maybe he had imagined visiting the cafe with Hange a few times. The realist inside him though, had always believed it to be impossible. At that moment, the dreamer inside him was still taking its victory lap.
âYou should have told us youâd be coming. We could have set up something better than late afternoon tea,â Onyankopon said. Either way, he seemed very happy to see them.
Moblit took a sip from his cup then revealed an apologetic smile underneath as he put the cup down. âApologies for visiting all of a sudden. Doctor Zoe is a very impulsive person.â
Hange nodded. âI hope you donât mind. As soon as I heard about this, I hopped on the next plane just to get here as soon as possible,â she said âIâm hoping to start something like this in the hospitals back home.â
Moblit put his cup down. âRight, I never got to properly introduce you to Levi.â He turned to Onyankopon then to Levi. âBut Iâm sure youâve had a fair share of introductions⊠You did barge into his office this morning.â He had an apologetic look on his face.
âHey, Doctor Zoe just wanted to see how we were using the software,â Onyankopon said in Hangeâs defense. âIâm more than honored to see that the founder of the mood alarm is taking the time to even wander around our facility.â
Moblit cleared his throat. âAnyway, Levi, this is Doctor Hange Zoe, the founder of the mood alarm application. She visited our main hospital a year back but if I remember correctly, you were on leave right?â
âOn a personal leave,â Levi clarified. He couldnât find much else to say. He took a long sip of tea.
âThis is Levi Ackerman,â Moblit said. âOne of our best in IT support. He learned how to use your application pretty fast.â
âYesâŠâ Hange said. âAnd ever since you told me about him, Iâve been very excited to meet him.â Her grin only got wider as she studied his features, her eyes giving him a good once over. âI guess thatâs the reason I ended up taking my own tour of the center while you too were catching up. I wanted to see your genius IT support in action,â she joked.
It was almost unbelievable that that morning, Hange had showed a completely different side to him. She had wiped her own tears pretty fast, shifting her expression to something very professional as soon as Onyankopon and Moblit had entered the office just that morning.
The whole afternoon, Hange was busy with activities and tours of the town, Levi busy with his own work. They barely got to talk. Fortunately, that had allowed Levi time to compose himself, enough to keep a straight face when Onyankopon had invited them over for some tea.
Then and there, there were conversations of partnerships and business, almost reminiscent to whatever bullshit he had to deal with in his old company. But this conversation had Hange, and Hange had shifted her gaze towards him enough times for Levi to feel it only proper to reciprocate.
âOnce this project is over, would you consider letting Levi go?â Hange asked. âIâd love to have him visit our main office, maybe help out with some of our development work.â
Moblit shook his head vigorously. âNo hesitation. It always felt like he was overqualified for this type of job.â
âBy the way you talk about him, I can tell.â She looked at Levi knowingly, a silent form of communication just between both of them. She turned back to Moblit then Onyankopon, her face once again all business. âThere are many things I hope to still improve with this application so any support on research, troubleshooting, development is very much appreciated.â
âWhat do you suggest?â Moblit asked.
A quick glance at Onyankopon and Levi knew he was asking the same question.
Hange put one finger to her chin in thought âA partnershipâŠâ
It looked like they had expected Hange to talk Leviâs ear off non stop about the application. Moblit had mentioned something about going straight home while Hange discussed the partnership with Levi, mentioning bugs, the debugger that had been stuck in the system and the bugs which Levi had been quick to point out.
Levi, being respectful, had only listened.
That was until Onyankopon and Moblit offered to walk ahead, leaving Levi and Hange alone on the red brick road overlooking the large lake.
It was early in the evening but it still felt like late afternoon. The sun never set until seven or eight during the mid months of spring.
Yet, the streets was empty, bereft of anything but the both of them.
With one quick scan of their surroundings, Hange turned back to him, she bit her lip and took a deep breath.
Her demeanor was suddenly a stark contrast with the enthusiastic, eloquent one back at a cafe. The sudden transformation was enough for Levi to tense up,
Hange spoke up. âThis town really sleeps early,â she commented. âYou're planning on going home now too?â
âI usually go home an hour earlier, especially on weekdays,â Levi responded. âIâm only out at this time because they invited me for late afternoon tea.â Technically it was dinner.
âDo you go homeâŠ.â Hange started, she paused for a second, a very out-of-place pause. âTo anyone?â
It took a lot of effort for Levi to resist choking or even letting out a ghost of a laugh at that question. Iâm married to my job. That was the answer that popped into his mind out of instinct.
âDid I make it time?â Hange added a second later, only reminding Levi that he hadnât even mustered a glimmer of answer.
âMake it in time?â Levi asked, in an attempt to stall for time.
âPetraâŠâ
âShe married Oluo.â
Hange didnât seem satisfied. âIs there someone elseâŠâ she pressed. âSomeone else...â
Hange started to speak with her hands, gesturing for Levi to âgo on,â in some awkward wave of a hand. The first awkward gesture Hange had done since they arrived.
Levi couldnât help but just appreciate that bout of vulnerability he could pull out of her. âThere is,â he said.
Just for a second, Hangeâs face fell and for a moment Levi relished it.
âOhâŠâ Hange turned away. âThen, I should take you home⊠Iâd love to meet herâŠâ
Then suddenly, Levi felt just a little bad for that trick. âI was fucking kidding,â he said.
Hange let out a loud sigh of relief, an ugly huff and she looked away, suddenly self conscious.
Levi had to admit, it was an ugly snort. He was tempted to take a good look at her face, and maybe he had craned his neck as she kept silent for a second longer. âIâm not some idiot who would marry someone just because itâs convenient," he said.
âGive me a break. I just graduated from college when I decided to get married,â Hange said. âBesides, we enjoyed each otherâs company.â
âIf you chose that type of life, I wouldnât have stopped you. Besides, you had a lot on the line, your PhD, your mood alarm, the love alarm, your reputation. It wouldnât have been easy choice to make.â
Hange hummed. âThe PhD is done, my reputation, I donât give too much of a ratâs ass about that. And the mood alarm? That has always been mine. I put my own money into building that business.â
âIt definitely wasnât cheap.â
âIt wasnât,â Hange admitted. âWhat if I told you, I earned my own capital for building it in one night in a casino.â
Levi's thoughts flew back to the night at the casino. He grinned. âIâd believe you.â
âSo the mood alarm is mine and I managed to keep it,â Hange said. âBut I never forgot you know... The plans, the codes, theyâre all yours.â
âSo you did get the email,â Levi said.
Hange nodded. âAnd the email got me thinkingâŠâ she trailed off for what seemed like an eternity.
Levi couldnât wait. âAbout what?â
Hange thought for a few seconds longer, putting her hands behind her back. âThat ended up one reason why I even considered leaving Zeke,â she said. âHe has a different way of loving, I have a different one too. Love is freedom. Love is just trusting. Zeke on the other hand, always likes to play safe, tie people down.â
âWhat happened to âlove is a choice?ââ
Hange seemed unperturbed. âLove still is a choice.â
âThen why not choose to love Zeke?â Levi challenged.
Hange sighed and put one hand up. âYou said it yourself, deciding to leave wouldnât be an easy decision,â she started. âI considered three things.â
She put one finger up. âOur own views of love. Zeke sees it as a game, as an investment and he approaches it conservatively⊠On the other hand, I see love and relationships as a form of freedom, a risk. In love, I don't believe in playing to win.â
She put another finger up. âI considered how I was feeling, this really weird feeling, my thoughts on Pemberley then on colors.â
âI thought you didnât want to be a slave to your emotions.â
Hange shook her head. âIâm not. I approached this methodically. Even before considering my feelings, I considered my circumstances.â She put the third finger up. âI considered the backlash, I considered Zekeâs feelings, dealing with a divorce. And thatâs what brought me here, despite the criticism, despite my inability to buy the love alarm and to barely salvage the mood alarm.â
âYou still gave in to your emotions.â
Hange nodded. âAfter thinking long and hard about it, I did. But before that, I weighed all three, and I decided to take the risk.â
âWas it worth it?â
Hange shrugged and she leaned over the rail, seeming mesmerized by the lake. âI wonât know yet but I guess, even when I thought you had someone elseâŠâ There was a flash of hurt on her face, enough for Levi to regret playing that little joke on her.
âI donât have anyone else,â Levi clarified.
Hange continued to speak. âI still thought the risk was worth taking. It would have been unfair to Zeke if I stayed and who am I to stop you if someone makes you feel happy.â She turned back to him. âThis is the way Iâll choose to love. Iâll weigh my emotions, my circumstances and my worst case scenarios. Then I decide the most loving thing to do. If I have to take a risk, I take it. And I guess, given all that, looking for you seemed like the correct decision.â
Levi couldnât stifle that smile any longer, and he hoped somehow, his own words would stop it from getting any wider. âWell, it's too early to tell if it's a good decision.â
Hange opened her phone and opened the application. âCan we try again?â
âYou wanna use the love alarm?â Levi asked. âYour ex-husbandâs application.â
âItâs still your brainchild,â Hange said as she waited for it to load. She hovered her thumb over it.
âI donât have it installed,â Levi said.
âI can wait,â Hange said. And there was no room for argument in her voice.
An awkward few minutes as Hange watched him download the application. Levi focused on the loading bar, and luckily, his biometrics were still registered from that brief experiment of a year ago.
âOn threeâŠâ Hange said, her voice a little stilted.
But they didnât finish counting or maybe they just counted at completely different paces.
The alarms rang, filling the empty space between them, two rings which never seemed to find a uniform pace. Even with a very dominant fastidious side though, Levi wasnât thinking too much about such a small detail.
Hangeâs was smiling, grinning, or whatever that was called. Her face was a mix between pure ecstasy and pure passion. She wrinkled her eyes at him, her mouth climbed into a grin wider than he had ever been used to.
She let out a loud sigh. âI was fucking scared.â
âScared of what?â
âThat you would have gotten over me⊠I dunno, thought you might just think love was a choice, and I dunno, stop feeling whatever that love alarm thing was feeling.â
âI donât think the love alarm works like that,â Levi said. Really, he started to realize he didnât know how it worked.
Hange shook her head. âIâm probably just overthinking. You know⊠I learned how to code over the years, talked to a few developers and tried to look into how the application works,â she said.
âDid you find anything?â
âRemember when you told me that the love alarm starts to figure out for its own what love is. It creates its own definition. Something we canât even comprehend...â Hange was still grinning, her voice coming out as breaths and sometimes sounds.
Still, Levi could comprehend most of it. âYou have any theories?â he pressed. Hange always had theories.
âSoulmates? Relationships in a past life?â Hange suggested.
âWell, we canât really look back at those right?â Levi said. âWell, what else?â
One word, one word out of Hangeâs mouth. âPemberley.â
âPemberley?â Levi asked. Somehow though as Hange looked back at the lake, up at the sky then at the gaudy main street of that small town. Levi started to understand it himself.
âItâs ugly here,â Levi said. At first he had meant it. As Hange started to look at her surroundings then back at the lake, with a look of wonder in her eyes, Levi was sure he had meant it as a challenge.
âWhen youâre in love then with the person we love, everywhere starts to feel like Pemberley,â Hange completed a second later.
Does it? And he wondered why the hell, he needed Hange to point it out.
They were in an ugly town, a place people were paid to live in. The sky was constantly overcast. When it wasnât raining, it was snowing and it snowed six months a year. When it wasnât snowing or raining, the sky was at least threatening it.
The way that Hange had looked at it with such naive wonder, the way she had just stood there, looking at everything and back at him, Levi couldnât help but entertain the idea of Pemberley.
Maybe give the colors a chance to show themselves? Hange didnât say it out loud. In the moment they made eye contact though, Levi couldnât help but just give that little piece of advice a chance, whether it had been his own or Hangeâs.
He looked first at the main road and the red brick path, noting how the gaudy red, worn by the elements more than actual foot traffic seemed to still glow a bright red despite the grey undertones. He then looked to the buildings, varying shades of concrete grey yet âthe varying shadesâ of it seemed to still have some sense of novelty.
He then looked back at the ocean, the dark sky above never allowed it a more beautiful shade of blue, yet the bluish black still continued to glow. The waves only sent glimmers of silver against the dark blue. Then it was only natural that he looked up at the sky, the sky which never allowed any other shade for itself, except on a few select days a year.
The fog blocked whatever green the mountains beyond the lake would have shown him.
Looking back at Hange then back at his surroundings, he started to accept it. There were greens, reds, blues, yellows and every other color in the spectrum. The world glowed with so many colors, so many lights and sounds. His emotions were a whirlwind that spun to whatever rhythm the lights and colors blinked at.
Colors persevered and theyâve always persevered.
Emotions persevered and theyâve always persevered.
Even emotions we donât understand ourselves. Levi added to himself.
Maybe Hange was right. That was what the love alarm had been trying to show. The one person who made the colors, the emotions all the clearer.
âThis is a beautiful place,â Hange said. âAnd I wouldnât mind staying here, lay low a bit, just long enough for people to forget the divorce fiasco.â
âThere are a few nice places here,â Levi said.
Hange continued to stare.
Why donât we just live here together right Levi?
I know you, you wouldnât be able to stay out of the action.
Levi felt almost ashamed at that mystery response that seemed to pop into his head out of nowhere. We can live here long enough to get our shit together. "First things first, letâs discuss this partnership, over tea in my house.â
âNow?â Hangeâs widened her eyes. And her eyes were smiling.
âWell, unless you have other plans tonight,â Levi said.
Hange shook her head. âNothing muchâŠâ
They made the whole way back to his home in silence. Surprisingly, Levi preferred it that way. It had been enough for him to appreciate his new comprehension of his surroundings, the small details he hadn't noticed before.
It wasnât just the view. The rhythm of their footsteps, their uncoordinated breathing, and just the way the trees rustled, the wind blew, always found a way to glow different colors. His emotions, the chaos of every moment after that were also challenging him to find their colors.
And the circumstances that had them locked in his cramped apartment, sitting over tea, with no one else watching, nothing restricting them had Levi reflecting. It probably had Hange reflecting too. They spoke unhindered with just thoughts, expressions and locked gazes.
For one reason or the other, it happened quickly and abruptly, leaving no space or time to comprehend it.
Sitting on his living room sofa right next to her. Hands clasped against the other. Her dry lips were on his.
The magic welling in his chest, the thunder that climbed quickly up his throat, persevering even underneath the grey. They were all screaming at him then, they all glowed colors.
At that moment though, he had been to tired to reflect on it for any longer. He decided to just roll with it.
It was no use making sense of it. After all, life, love and emotions... They were all just complicated that way.
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ELEVATED SURFACES
RATING:Â R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)
WORD COUNT:Â 11.6k
CATEGORIES:Â fratboy!harry
MASTERLISTÂ (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAGÂ | PLAYLISTÂ
a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (heâs not as fratty but we love him a LOT)
a/n pt.2:Â as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault.Â
As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.
or
Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer
pls reblog and share with your friends đ
âWe really should not be still going to our own mixers,â Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. âAre people even going?â
You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. âAlexis is on her way overâshe got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising Iâd bring my flask and youâd have your Juul.â
âI swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.â Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.
âShe claims that will make her addicted.â
Emily rolled her eyes. âSheâs already addictedâshe uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?â
âNo, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomoresâtheyâre all on the little hunt.â You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. âPlus, who gives a fuck, weâll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then weâre hitting the bars.â
âTrue.â A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexisâs wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult. Â
âBitches, I brought tequila!â Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emilyâs shoulders. âCome on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.â
âGrab the shot glasses,â You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. âAre you hooking up with him tonight?â
Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. âProbably. I donât know, heâs been weird latelyâwe hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasnât texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.â
âWas the sex weird?â Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.
âYeah,â Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. âLike weirdlyâŠintense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but Iâm on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.â
You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat. Â You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. âDo you think heâs caught feelings?â
Alexisâs eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasnât to like? âYou think? I thought it mightâve not been his vibe.â
Emily grabbed the bottle. âAnother?â You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. âJust see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.â
âGood idea.â You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. âOkay, thatâs enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.â
Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and youâd heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didnât want to man the computer anymore.
You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan youâd worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needsâafter three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.
If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer youâd had with Beta, youâd turned around on the dance floor to find Harryâs eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadnât been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.
Youâd known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time heâd volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and youâd been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together. Â That didnât mean you hadnât had a lingering crush on him since youâd first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years heâd only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.
As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadnât ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering theyâd trashed their last one. But this year, youâd found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. Youâd both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much elseâyou were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.
âY/N.â Alexisâs voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. âWhatâs got you thinking hard over there?â
âHarry?â Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. âEmmett said heâll be there tonight.â
âHeâs always there,â you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.
âYouâd hook up with him, right?â
You looked at Alexis. âObviously. Heâs so fucking hot.â
She laughed, as did Emily. âThen go for it, girl. Itâs not like heâll say no.â
You shrugged. âHe might. Never know.â
âI seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.â
âIt was a joke,â you reminded them, because it wasâyou wouldnât ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. Youâd become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.
âStill,â Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. âDonât sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if heâs not interested in you.â
âAnd seriously missing out,â Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. âBitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.â
âShut the fuck up,â you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldnât find it in yourself to care all that much. âCome on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when weâre leaving.â
âDo you have your cigs?â Â Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink sheâd made while you had been staring into space.
It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. âObviously. Emmett will have a fit if I donât.â You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.
One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didnât lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didnât forget they were there and crush them again. Â
Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.
âEmmett!â Emily called, and the blond-headed boyâs head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.
Aka, your happy place. âHeâs bartending, thank god,â you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, youâd gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.
âWeâve been waiting for you three,â Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the fratâs homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. âWhat are we drinking?â
âWhatâs the mix?â You asked, pointing to the cooler.
He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. âShit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.â
âMy favorite,â you replied, blowing him a kiss. âHow is it downstairs?â
He filled the cups and handed them to you all. âThey just wrapped up pong so itâs still getting moving.â
Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. âSounds like we need to get people dancing.â With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. âLetâs dance!â She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.
Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexisâs hands as you twirled on the floor. Â
You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Malloryâs arms wrapping around your waist.
âOh my fuck god, MOM,â she screamed, using the nickname sheâd had for you since youâd taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didnât have a huge exam on Monday, sheâd be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.
You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emilyâs Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.
Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.
The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you werenât even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldnât mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.
âSomebody come get her, sheâs dancing like a stripper!â You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.
When you danced, you didnât give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didnât care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.
As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.
That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like thatâloose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.
You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobodyâs business tonight, but youâd done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Malloryâs hand coming out to help you down. âYou good?â She asked, leaning in to you.
âYeah, just hot,â you replied. âGoing to get a beer.â She nodded and let you go. There wasnât a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.
Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. âCan I get one?â You asked, pointing to the beers.
âYeah,â he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really couldâve given fewer fucksâthey were a frat after all, they didnât buy the good stuff.
You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harryâs. You decided you were going to draw him out. âI got hoes, callinâ!â You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.
Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. âWhy arenât you dancing?â You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.
âFuck! Shit! Bitch!â The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. âI be ballinâ, like a motherfuckinâ pro,â you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.
You couldnât help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. âFuckinâ love that song,â he said, accent smooth in your ear.
âYou and every other frat boy,â you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.
The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.
Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt
Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.
Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didnât have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you werenât letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldnât help but smileâhe was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adamâs apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.
Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didnât careâyou  were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.
When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldnât stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. âIâm going to get some air,â you said, turning around so you could face Harry.
He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. âCan I come with?â
âSure.â You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.
âFuck it was hot in there,â Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.
âIâm going to smoke if thatâs okay,â you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.
He nodded. âCan I bum one?â
You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. âSure,â you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.
Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.
And then you looked back to Harry. âSo,â you said, tapping the ash on your cig. âHow have you been?â
You hadnât seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadnât talked in ages. âGood,â he replied. âBusy with classes and stuff.â
âWhat are you studying again?â
âPolitical science,â he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.
âWhy poli sci?â
He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. âDunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.â
âYou donât want to work in politics or something?â
âI donât really know what I want to do, honestly.â
âYou make it sound like thatâs unusual,â you tell him. âMost people donât.â
He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. âIâll tell my dad that next time we talk.â You could tell there was a story there, but didnât push. It wasnât that kind of moment. âWhat about you?â
âPsych and pre-law,â you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.
âOh? What kind of law?â
You took another drag before answering. âCriminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.â
His eyes widen, just as you expected. Itâs the usual response from people. âFuck, thatâs awesome. What made you interested in it?â
âI just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.â
He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. âAnd you said most people donât know what they want to do.â
A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. âIâm unusual,â you told him. âMost of my friends have no idea what theyâre doing after graduation.â
You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. âIâm going back in.â
Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. âLead the way.â He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. âWant another drink?â
You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. âWhite claw, please.â If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you werenât particularly wanting to get wasted tonightâyou wanted to see where this went.
Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didnât know. âHeâs hot,â one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. âYou going to go for it?â
âIf the opportunity presents itself,â you replied. You werenât going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. Youâd follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and  see where it went. Not to say you werenât forward, but you didnât want to make him uncomfortable either. âWhat about you guys?â
Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation sheâd been having with a junior guy in Beta, how theyâd hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.
âIf Iâd know there were Heinekens I wouldâve had that,â you told him, accepting your white claw.
His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. âMost girls donât like beer.â
âWell youâve met one now.â You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.
âH.â A guy appeared behind Harry. âWeâre out of vodka.â
âHow are we out?â He asked, taking another sip of his beer.
The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. âSomeone took one of the bottles.â
âFuck,â Harry said with a sigh. âHave one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while youâre out, weâre running low.â With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.
Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. âDownstairs,â you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. âComing?â
That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room. Â The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.
âYouâre such a fucking hoe/I love it!â You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.
You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harryâs hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics Iâm a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/Iâll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping, Â and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.
His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time  with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldnât help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.
The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?
So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harryâs eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.
âFuckinâ hell,â he said and you could barely hear him over the music.
His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his, Â the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.
Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.
But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but justâŠpush him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your backâyou had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.
âIf I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,â you sang.
Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexisâs. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. âDrink?â
You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. âIs there anything better than that shit?â You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.
His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. âIâve got some stuff in my room.â
You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. âDo you have mixers?â As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, âLetâs go.â
You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know sheâd check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.
âWhat floor are you on?â Â You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.
âThird,â he replied, not pausing no the stairs. âItâs quieter.â
That made sense, as you could imagine if he didnât feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.
You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boyâs room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the fratâs flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single. Â
âSorry, itâs kind of a mess,â he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. âDidnât expect to have people up here.â
âItâs fine,â you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.
âUh, Iâve got Titoâs, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.â
It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. âWhat mixers do you have?â
âCoke, juice, and tonic,â he replied. âSorry, itâs not much.â
You shook your head. âTitoâs and tonic,â you told him. Usually you wouldâve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much youâd already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.
You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didnât want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh airâeven though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognizedâfeeling good on your skin.
âWant to listen to some music?â He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized, Â and shifted away so he could get at his computer. Â
You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. âSure.â You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.
He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. âAny preferences?â
âIâm good with whatever,â you replied. âI like pretty much everything.â It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.
He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK, Â a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. âYou like 6LACK?â
âMore like obsessed,â you replied and he chuckled.
He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. âI donât know a single girl who even knows who he is.â
You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. âThey must not have good music taste, then.â
Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. âWhereâs home for you?â
âDenver,â you responded. âYou?â
âHolmes Chapel.â
âWhereâs that?â
He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldnât help but wish you were the one doing it. âSouth of Manchester. Itâs a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.â
Youâd never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didnât ask. âDo you like it?â
He shrugged. âItâs fine. I donât want to like, move back or anything. But itâs a good place to go home to.â
Denver felt the same way to youâit was home, but it wasnât a place you saw a future in. Youâd go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. âWhere do you want to go?â
The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. âLA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.â
âDo you like the states?â You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but youâd never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.
âItâs different than home,â he replied, and you understood what he meant. âI donât think Iâll want to be here forever, but itâs good for right now. Got friends here now.â
You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. âWhereâs the bathroom?â Â
âDown the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking itâit got fucked up during homecoming and hasnât been the same ever since.â
You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower, Â a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.
As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.
When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldnât even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.
Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likelyâevery indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.
âYou guys really need soap.â
He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. âI knowâitâs fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.â
You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. âItâs fine. I made do.â His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.
You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fireâyou needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldnât hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.
6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldnât help but smile when Harry grunted into you. âIâfuck,â he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.
Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harryâs eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. âYou can touch me,â you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.
He didnât hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldnât help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.
Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didnât make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.
âY/N,â he rasped, âbed?â
âYes.â The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.
The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. âFeel good?â He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.
All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.
When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. âHarry.â
That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.
Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.
Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.
âFuck,â he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldnât remember.
He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldnât be able to last long hereâhe was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and youâd barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.
When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. âShit,â he rasped. âYouâshit.â Â
Youâd done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and youâd want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.
âWant me to fuck your mouth?â His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.
In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.
He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldnât do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.
âShit,â he mumbled, pulling you off. âIâI have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.â
The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. âDo you have a condom?â You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than readyâyou needed him inside of you.
Harryâs eyes went wide and he scrambled up. âFuck,â he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. âIâm out.â
âGo find one,â you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. âIâll wait here.â
âYeah, okay, Iâllâyeah Iâll find one.â He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. âShit, IâllâIâll be back.â
You couldnât help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.
While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like theyâd set back up pong downstairs according to Emilyâs story.
All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. âHow many did you get?â
He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. âIâI thought Iâd re-stock.â
You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping youâd have a couple rounds, and  you were not opposed to the idea. âCome here,â you said, and let your legs fall back open.
He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didnât trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. âCan I take these off?â He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.
âPlease,â you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. âNeed you.â The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.
âI was going to go down on you,â he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.
You shook your head. âLater.â
Harry wasnât complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. âOkay?â He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.
âPlease,â you begged, and that had him moving immediately.
He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.
It burned a bitâmainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys youâd been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. âYouâre big,â you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.
A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. âCan I move?â He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harryâs, although his had a string of curses attached. âFuck, youâre tight,â he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. âFuck.â
You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didnât give a fuck because he felt so good. âHoly shit,â you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.
Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldnât control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldnât even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.
He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when youâd let out a sharp gasp heâd say, âYeah, there? Thatâs the spot?â and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.
But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. âClose,â he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. âYou feel so good, shit, oh my godâhow do you feel so good?â His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.
âWant you to come,â you babbled, âwant to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.â
âHoly fuckââ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.
So you said one more thing. âI need you to come, Harry, please.â The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.
He laid there for a second, panting, and you didnât mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.
When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were closeâinsanely closeâthe combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.
âHarry,â you rasped, voice broken from panting. âIâm close.â
He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, thatâs when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didnât mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.
When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. âHas anyone ever told you that youâre really good at that?â
He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. âThey have, in fact.â
âGood. Iâd be concerned about the other girls if they hadnât.â
He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you werenât mad. âYou can stay if you want. Thereâs people downstairs still and itâs cold out.â
You propped your head up on his shoulder. âThereâs also all those condoms.â
âThatâs true. Wouldnât want them to go to waste.â
You trailed your fingers up his torso. âMight have to just stay the whole weekend if weâre trying to use them all.â
His eyebrows quirked, but he wasnât mad at the prospect. âWanna be my study break for the weekend?â
You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. âAs long as youâre mine.â
He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. âWeâll get your shit in the morning, then.â
âItâs a deal.â You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.
Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. âFuck off!â Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.
âFuckâsorryâI need a condom, man.â The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.
Harry snorted, and you couldnât help but laugh. âGo ask Nick,â he replied, âand leave me the fuck alone.â His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.
It was going to be a long weekend.
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