#no need to tell you how i feel so upset right now over hoffman

[wildsunscorpion]

Girl I just finished E Lucevan Le Stelle.

That's it. That's the post. No need to tell you how I cried buckets over Marcus' tears.

[xtinyslip]

lcvenderhcze​:

“SHE WAS HEARTBROKEN! SHE DIDN’T FEEL LIKE SHE HAD ANY OTHER CHOICE! you don’t get it.. what she and hope had? it was something else. true love, if i’ve ever seen it. when i told her that she was gone, i.. i’ve never seen her so upset. and matthews? he pushed it. he pushed his fucking luck.” and he had deserved it - no one could ever say otherwise in his presence, because… no, he was not going to allow it. amanda was family - she wasn’t just his best friend. she was his sister. “oh, i’m sorry, detective? are you upset? because when the great mark hoffman kills an enemy, no one blinks an eye but when amanda did it - everyone throws a rock at her first hand, right? screw that. she did what had to be done.” he was raging and enough to move forward, snatching the other’s collar in hand. “what the fuck do you mean?” he was not taking no for an answer, that was for sure. right? of course not. @xtinyslip

“THAT’S WHERE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STEP THE FUCK IN! do i really have to tell you that? are you that fucking simple?” nic hadn't been lying when she said that taking that blood would make him more irritable. it had definitely done that. "true love? for one of them maybe." he just scoffed. no, he wasn't going to accept that young had loved her as much back because he didn't think she was capable of it. the second john decided to give her another chance she'd be all over it like a rash. this whole thing was getting on his last fucking nerve. like most things were today. "IT’S MATTHEWS! what else were you expecting? pushing his luck was all he knew how to do!” hoffman wasn’t losing sleep over what happened to matthews. it wasn’t that she had done it. it was that she had done it NOW. now of all the fucking times. “i’d have to kill someone here for them to have that reaction. we might be about to find out but you won’t be here to experience it!” no, he didn’t mean that. he didn’t. it was just -- how could no one else see how stupid this was? why was he still defending her stupid fucking decision? it was making him livid. hoffman hadn’t been able to judge his move as well as normal. the sudden jerk of his collar, made his head spin. fuck. not now. trying to steady himself like it hadn’t happened but even now, he could see three of the other. “she’s --” woah. the shove he gave to will was almost gentle, more a warning, more like he was telling him he needed a second. “they get to her?” finally being able to collect his thoughts and what he’d been saying. “we both know she’s as good as dead.” @lcvenderhcze

xtinyslip

“CAN’T SAY I CAN EVER SAY THE SAME ABOUT YOU.” hoffman knew he was being sarcastic and he didn’t expect anything less. he was the rook, no he was the rook that had melted garza’s face off. nice but still, what position did he have here? “her choice? she wasn’t picking what position the two of you can fuck in next! you knew the implications this would have on her! ON ALL OF US!” this idiot had really known and just sat on his hands waiting for young to epically fuck this up? if he could have strangled him and gotten away with it here and now -- he would have. “i’m sure she’ll be grateful you respected her choice when the others got their hands on her. hum? should hear the things they have in mind to to do your little pet. fix this. fix it fast!”

"SHE WAS HEARTBROKEN! SHE DIDN'T FEEL LIKE SHE HAD ANY OTHER CHOICE! you don't get it.. what she and hope had? it was something else. true love, if i've ever seen it. when i told her that she was gone, i.. i've never seen her so upset. and matthews? he pushed it. he pushed his fucking luck." and he had deserved it - no one could ever say otherwise in his presence, because... no, he was not going to allow it. amanda was family - she wasn't just his best friend. she was his sister. "oh, i'm sorry, detective? are you upset? because when the great mark hoffman kills an enemy, no one blinks an eye but when amanda did it - everyone throws a rock at her first hand, right? screw that. she did what had to be done." he was raging and enough to move forward, snatching the other's collar in hand. "what the fuck do you mean?" he was not taking no for an answer, that was for sure. right? of course not. @xtinyslip

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Scared - Drabble

Andy Barber x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Murder Mentions

Summary: Andy has twins, the youngest suffers from nerve damage in their hearing. His oldest is suspected for murder and trial was just a few weeks away. His daughter who lost her hearing. Confesses it all.

I’m sorry it’s so short, it would’ve been better if I’ve thought about it more

Love you all!

~~~

10 months earlier.

Andy walks into one of the rooms, hearing the alarm go off. “Hey. Come on. Time to get up,” Andy stops the alarm and walks out, stopping just at the door, staring at the boy in bed. 

“Jake?” He says, “Gotta see those eyes.” The boy doesn’t move and Andy shook his head. “All right. You leave me no choice.” Walking over, the man sits on the boys bed, causing him to groan.

Scrolling through his phone, he looks over, “Last chance.” Andy sighed and raised the phone above his son’s head, pressing the play button to play, Back in Black.

Jacob groans when the music blasts in his ears making Andy grin softly. The boy throws the comfort off him, “I’m up...”

“There he is! Morning, buddy. Gotta wake up your 2 minute sister, now.” Andy stands up and walks over to the next room, stepping in to see her dimly lit room. He gently sits on the edge of her bed and glanced over to her nightstand.

Spotting the two hearing aids on the surface. He gently placed his hand on her back and rubbed it slowly.

The girl slowly shuffles and rolls onto her back. Andy grins, “Morning, sweetheart.” Though she couldn’t hear, she knew what he said by the movement of his lips as she reached over for her earpieces and slipped them on.

“Morning...” She signs, Andy pats her side. “Time to get up, Y/N.” Andy stood up and walked out, heading over to get himself ready for work as the two kids get their outfits on for school.

Y/N jumps down the stairs and spotted her mom, pouring herself some coffee. “Morning, mom,” Y/N signs, Laurie looks over, “Morning, sweetheart. Where’s your brother?” She asks.

Jacob jumps down the stairs and walks over as well, “Can you quiz me on the vocab?” He asked, “I have a test today.”

Laurie hums, “Oh. Good morning to you too.” Y/N grins as Jacob does as well, “Morning, Mom.”

Laurie looks over the paper, “You guys need a ride today, or are you both walking?” Jacob digs into the fridge while Y/N began to go through the cabinets. “Uh, no, we’ll walk. Did you get new waffles?”

Laurie looks over, “I did if you put them on my list. Y/N, honey, also remind me to make you an appointment, you said your hearing aids were slightly ringing, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not bad,” Y/N signed.

Laurie drinks her coffee, “Maybe turn them off for now.” Y/N nods and pulls them out. Andy comes in, placing a kiss on Laurie’s shoulder. Andy leans on the counter, taking a sip of his coffee, “Oh, Claudia Hoffman e-mailed me again,” Laurie says.

“Who?” Andy asked.

“Lizzy’s sister. The travel agent,” Laurie says, Andy nods, “Oh, right, right. Mexico.”

“Yeah,” Laurie says, Y/N looks over and reads the vocabs on Jacob’s paper. She looks up to see Jacob grin at her. He turns, “What about Mexico?” He asked. Andy never removed his eyes from Laurie, “We’re thinking about going there for Christmas. Four of us. What do you guys think?” Andy asked, looking over.

Y/N looks over to Jacob who signs at her, silently before Y/N looks at Andy and grinned. “Sounds cool,” Y/N signs, Jacob nods. Y/N slips on her hearing aids for a second, “You two might be a little more excited.”

“We are,”Jacob says.

“Well, tell your face,” Laurie grins. Jacob looks back to his paper, “You love that line.”

“You do. But I say, yes, yes to Mexico.” Laurie nods, “Great. I’ll call her. I’ve got an early meeting and I’ll go to Y/N’s doctor to repair her hearing aids so I’m jumping in the shower. Will you finish quizzing the two? Or if Y/N had figured out all the words?”

Y/N grins. “Yeah,” Andy responds, Laurie kisses his cheek and walks away. “Bye, guys!” Laurie calls. Jacob says bye back as Andy walks over. Jacob hands him the paper and Andy reads the next word, exhaling.

“Phlegmatic,” He says.

Jacob pauses, “Um...” Y/N walked back into the kitchen and looks over Andy’s shoulder to see the word.

She signs up at Andy, “Having an unemotional and stolidly calm disposition.”  Andy grins, lifting up a brow, “Looks like your sister knows what’s happening. She might score a 100.”

Jacob looks over and grins at his sister.

.

You sat on your bed, holding your head in your hands. Nails digging into your scalp, you heard the yells. Andy and Laurie were in your brother’s room. Andy screaming at him for what he posted on a social media account he made. Posting a photo you saw. 

Jacob was suspected for murder.

Ben Rifkin was found dead in the park you and Jacob would walk down. You shook under your hands as the yelling ended. You knew something they didn’t and you were too scared to say it.

Do you know what they want to do to you?

You heard your father’s voice on the other side of the wall repeat in your head. You look looked up to see Andy walk in, trying to look soft as possible but he saw how much you were shaking.

You saw his lips move with a soft ‘hey’. You reached for your hearing aids and slipped them on, he sat on the edge of your bed and sighed softly. “I’m sorry you heard that. Did you?” He asks, you lifted your head up and softly nodded. “A little,” You signed.

You lost your hearing when you were born and at the time you never really spoke. You grew up signing towards your parents and twin brother. Andy was the first to learn. At the time, Andy and Laurie hadn’t bought you your hearing aids till you were 8.

6 years later, you grown used to them.

“Hey,” Andy says, “You okay?” He asks. You lowered your head and felt the tears come down. Andy’s face softens, “Sweetheart, if I upset you with Jacob in the other room you can tell me.”

You looked up to him with red cheeks and tears as you lifted your hands up, “Jacob didn’t do it...” Andy turns and furrows his brows, “Do you know who?” He asks.

You felt embarrassed. Humiliated in the family. You were shaking under Andy’s hand. “Ben did something to me...” You signed, you lowered your head and shook it, raising your hands again, “He touched me... and I told him to stop.” Andy held in his breath for what he was about to hear.

How could you?

You raised your head up again, your bottom lip quivering, “I did it...”  You spoke. Andy’s mouth was gaped at you. Shocked. Scared. Andy lets out a huff of disbelief as he leaned over. Elbows on his knees as he shuts his eyes closed. 

“I’m sorry, dad...” Your voice was hoarse, the words barely came out from the crying and years of not speaking. You grabbed your father’s shoulder and tugged him up to look at you.

Your hands waved at him furiously, “Jacob was trying to protect me... He was scared, too. I’m scared... And I messed this up. Just let them take me.” Andy grabs your shoulders, tears in his eyes.

His stern look stared at you, “No, you aren’t turning yourself in. We’re gonna figure this out, sweetheart. I promise...” He says. You shook under his hands as he puffs out a sigh and pulls you into his chest. Your arms instantly go around him, feeling the warm pull you in.

“I’m scared...” You whispered.

Andy’s hand reached up to the back of your head. “I know. We’re gonna figure this out... it’s not your fault. Neither of you. I love you no matter what you two do. This is all fucked up and we’re gonna get through this.”

He promised that.

~~~

I’m sorry, it was the best I could do, I kind of just went with the flow

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[journeysintowebcomics]

Girl Genius Liveblog #222

UPDATE 222: King on the Loose

Last time they had found the vault where the lantern they’re looking for may be at, and also stumbled upon one Madwa Korel who is dangerous and also a skillful Smoke Knight. In other news, Hoffman may be blind, but he’s taking that quite well. Let’s continue.

The vault is open! All thanks to Aldin, master lock cracker. Van Rijn would be so upset his work was so easily defeated. Is the lantern inside?

Hmmm...well I sure don’t see anything lantern shaped, I have to say. Unless that big glass thing is the lantern instead of like a glass cover. Pretty big lantern it’d be, then, but still...since that’s in the center and the composition is so obviously giving it importance, it must be incredibly relevant and I shouldn’t forget I saw it, if it’s not the lantern. Also, that sure seems to be a muse. Must be a guardian! At a first glance it looks like it’s deactivated but I sure wouldn’t let my guard down – this is a world of MAD SCIENCE. You can’t let your guard down! That muse may have a way to defend that object.

Apparently Prende is a muse and I just...missed that tiny detail. Hum. Well either way, looks like the lantern is there. Worth noting Van Rijn never wrote about the muse being here. Hm, she definitely is some sort of guardian, then. Violetta stops them from going on, surely she imagines there must be traps and other things in here. You may want to ask Hoffman to take a good look around with the goggles! He should be able to find everything, if there are traps.

Yup, there must be a trap here. Hoffman can’t see a thing, but Violetta insists. Hm. It may be the muse, really, I can’t think of any other kind of traps that could be in plain sight. And there goes Madwa! Triggering it, the muse grabs her right away. The clank is not fooled by Madwa’s tricks, she grabs her. I’m not very certain this is going to stop her for long, last I checked the muses were relatively fragile and Madwa sure isn’t going to let this stop her, right?

Well at least she’s not terribly hostile. She doesn’t take kindly to Madwa’s intrusion, but she’s talking politely with Agatha and pals. That’s better than throwing them out or trying to kill them. Agatha informs the new Storm King is currently trapped in a time bubble, unaware he has been freed very recently. Not that it isn’t a reason to get the lantern, they still have to set free the town.

Huh...well, Tweedle is the other option, really, but this clank was locked here waaaay before Tweedle even existed, no? So she can’t be saying she supports Tweedle over Tarvek. I’m not really sure what Prende means with this, but it’s clear: the lantern must not be moved. What now, Agatha?

Nothing to do but maybe let Tarvek convince her later, which isn’t a bad plan. Still, Agatha argues there’s a whole town needing help, and although Prende doesn’t seem so callous as to want to let all those people stay in stasis forever, she insists. The pleasant conversation is interrupted when the other Smoke Knights come by, telling them to not let Madwa escape.

Oh, she got out of the clank’s grasp. How does she do that? Smoke Knights are so bizarre.

How courtly of you to stand around to brag villainously, Madwa. You truly are aligned with Lucrezia. As seen in that image, it gives Violetta enough time to throw a pebble and...tell me she didn’t break the lantern. I see it’s disconnected from something, and I’d be willing to bet this is aaaall very delicate. They came all the way down here to get the lantern, if it got broken I’ll be kind of upset, honestly.

There are other immediate problems, though. Is that a skeletal hand?

Well what Madwa has really is close enough now. Also yeah, Madwa, how dare you break that lamp. It was you, totally not Violetta, nope, it was aaaaaall you. Let’s all pile the blame on her, for convenience. She took the lamp out of that nook on the wall, after all! Her fault.

Now that the lantern is broken, something is coming out of the wall, something enveloped in a green light. Prende talks about how she knew Agatha’s friend isn’t the Storm King, and the reason is...huh.

Okay, I didn’t see this one coming!

Would I be mistaken in thinking that’s the Storm King? And as long as he’s alive, nobody else can be the Storm King. Hoh, what a problem that is. Tarvek better get ready for some good ol’ fashioned regicide.

Apparently Van Rijn took the king right before, or during a fight, and Andronicus is real pissed off about it. He even is calling Van Rijn a sorcerer, which is rather curious. Maybe Andronicus wasn’t too familiar with MAD SCIENCE. He also refuses to believe anything about Van Rijn, not believing he’s dead. Well...seems like, to him, his imprisonment lasted only a moment, he doesn’t know it has been such a long time since then. If he escapes maybe he will notice. The thing is, I sure wouldn’t trust him to behave and not...try to smack people with that bloody club he has. Andronicus seems kind of volatile.

So, first things first: that beard looks ridiculous on him! What kind of curlers do you need to style that beard? Good thing this is just a costume, because it’s seriously a silly style. If anyone reading this has a beard like that one, I’m sorry for being rude, the beard looks good on you, but on Tweedle you have to be kidding me.

Now that the elephant in the room has been addressed, let’s address what’s important. He can feel where his sword is at, hmmm...I guess that means we know where Andronicus will be going, if he escapes from the vaults. I think I can already see where this is going now: is Andronicus going to crash the costume party? Will people believe he’s just another partygoer with a costume? I have to wonder.

Desperate and trying to get Andronicus from, you know, slaying the entirety of Paris with a sword, Prende says once again that Van Rijn is dead and that two hundred years have passed. Andronicus doesn’t seem to like that at all, he looks rattled by that revelation, and decides to go find out by himself. Then he orders Agatha to tell her nonexistent master he will receive a visit from Andronicus soon, not knowing he’s talking to the current scion of the Heterodynes. Alright! Looks like this will be a problem. How to deal with a rogue Storm King?

Well that sure sets the tone for the next arc or so. I mean, Andronicus being on the loose is kind of a big deal! I’ll be very surprised if this isn’t what they had to deal with for the rest of their stay in Paris, especially since Madwa escaped and took the lantern with her.

...oh my god, I love this. They just looted the vault! They took everything they could get their hands on! May as well have something so you don’t leave with your hands empty, eh? Yeah, I think I get it – they’re taking everything they can just in case there’s a clue or something, but still! It’s kind of funny they were all ‘welp we’re not gonna get out of here without some booty, are we now. take this chest of gold, it’s gonna sell great in the black market’.

Say, this may be a good spot to stop. I’ll continue next time!

Next time: next update

[trulymadlysydney]

The Boy Next Door - V

Of all the things she could’ve ordered, it had to be a sex toy.  And of all the people who could’ve been her neighbor, it just had to be coffee shop Harry.

I wont get into it until you’re finished reading, because I do have a lot to say.  But I will say I’m sorry it took me so long to complete this story, and that I worked harder on this part alone than I’ve worked on any other story I’ve ever written.  I love you guys, and I hope you enjoy. xx

(Part One HERE) (Part Two HERE) (Part Three HERE) (Part Four HERE)

***PLEASE DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION***

The next few days feel slow and uneventful, and anxiety looms over Nova’s head at every second.  She goes through the motions-- class, gym, home, repeat-- every day, but every step she takes feels wrong and strangely uncomfortable.  She misses Harry-- of course she does, but it’s a weird sort of emptiness.  Was she in the wrong?  Was Harry?

Jessie notices something is off with her on Tuesday morning when Nova doesn’t even look up from her spot at the kitchen table.  But Nova brushes it off, saying that she’s just tired and didn’t get much sleep the night before.  Which is partly true.

Nova’s mother catches on that something is wrong on Wednesday afternoon, when Nova responds to her texts with very few words.  Nova apologizes, telling her that she’s busy writing a paper.  Also partly true.

Thursday night, Nova cries herself to sleep, annoyed at herself for being so hung up on this.  Her phone lays beside her, with a half composed text message to Harry, asking if they can talk and telling him that she’s so sorry.  Before that, the text had been angry, yelling at him for never responding to her or letting her explain, but she’d felt horrible about it the minute she’d typed out the final word and had promptly erased the entire thing.

It’s on Friday that Nova finds herself particularly angry about the situation.  On the one hand, she knows she wasn’t wrong.  Of course she wasn’t wrong.  How could Harry have expected her to know? Obviously she couldn’t have read his mind.  She hadn’t known he was going to confess his feelings on that stage, like a cheesy romantic comedy.  But if she had, she would’ve paid better attention.

And on the other hand, she feels guilty.  One thing she’s learned about Harry is that he isn’t a mushy or vulnerable person by any means.  There is no denying that her talking to that guy-- Jason-- looked bad to Harry.  How could he have known it was innocent?  He must have been so nervous, and he’d obviously given his plan lots of thought only for her to go and not pay attention.  He had a right to be upset with her.

But again, how on earth could she have known?

Nova lets out a sigh that’s a bit louder than she’d anticipated, and it’s then that she remembers she’s in class right now.  Her cheeks grow hot when her professor-- Dr. Hoffman-- shoots her a look of confusion.  His lecture stops only briefly, with enough of a pause to let everyone know that Nova had just let out a sigh of annoyance.  But thankfully, he doesn’t acknowledge it any further.  He just turns back to the board and continues writing whatever it was he was writing.

Nova sinks down a bit further into her seat.  She wishes she could talk to somebody about this just to get it out of her head.  

It isn’t necessarily that she can’t talk to anybody.  It’s just that it’s such a strange story that she doesn’t even really know where to begin.  It isn’t like she could just call up her mom about it-- there are, of course, details that she feels are essential to the story.  She could talk to Jessie, sure, but Jessie’s solution would likely involve confronting Harry face to face, and Nova isn’t sure she could do that just yet.

Harry is the one she wants to talk to.  More than anything else right now, she wants to sit with Harry on their park bench again, lay her head on his shoulder, and explain everything.   Harry is the only one she feels would understand this situation completely, and she feels like they both have so many feelings  that they need to sort through together.

She’s considered texting him.  Several times actually.  But where would she start?  A simple “I’m sorry” wouldn’t cut it, but she’s not exactly sure she’s even ready to fully apologize.  Or if she even needs to apologize at all.  And Harry certainly hasn’t made any effort to clear things up on his end either.

And then her thoughts are full circle once again.  

Dr. Hoffman clears his throat and turns to his desk, concluding his lecture and reminding everyone to complete their online assignments this weekend.  The class buzzes back to life with soft conversations and zipping of backpacks, tuning out his words entirely.  Nova glances at the clock, surprised at how quickly her class went by and realizing how little she’d paid attention.  Everyone is already beginning to file out of the room, and she realizes that she’s lagging.

When everything is zipped into her backpack, she rises to her feet. Dr. Hoffman continues to eye her, and Nova feels bad, really.  She knows that Dr. Hoffman expects more of her, especially because this is one of her better classes this semester and she’s one of his most vocal students.  She participates frequently, always presenting questions and opposing arguments, taking detailed notes, and even staying after to ask follow up questions.  But this week she’s said next to nothing and, truthfully, has hardly paid much attention at all.  And though she knows it won’t be hard to get caught up by the end of this weekend, she does feel guilty and a little bit stressed at the thought of falling behind.

She shoots Dr. Hoffman a smile and an awkward thumbs up as she makes her way to the door.  (Why did she give him a thumbs up? What could that possibly mean to him?  “Hey man great lecture even though we both know I wasn’t listening!”)

When she exits the room, she is instantly swallowed up in a sea of student walking the long stretch that makes up Winston Hall. A good 80% of them walk with their noses buried into their phones, and the rest share rather loud stories about their plans this weekend or a test they’d just taken.  It makes Nova chuckle, seeing the obvious difference between the undergrad students—especially the freshmen— and the students closer to her in age. It’s a difference that Nova had considered subtle up until this past year or so. She hadn’t realized how small freshmen looked to her until she’d had a freshman classmate in Dr. Shuff—Rick’s— class.

And then Nova nearly stops walking when it clicks in her head… she needs to talk to Rick.

On more than one occasion Nova had found herself staying after class to talk to Rick about anything they could think of. Her life, his life, it didn’t matter. Rick was a younger man, though still older than Nova. He was about 35 or 36, if she remembered correctly, and he had always given her the best advice when she’d needed it. His wife had just given birth to a baby girl who’d they’d called Penelope, and Rick was constantly showing Nova pictures and sharing stories of all of the baby’s firsts.  Rick was someone who Nova considered a friend as well as a teacher, and now she walks with a bit more of a spring in her step at the thought of speaking to him again. He’ll know exactly what she’ll need to hear, and it’ll be good to catch up on his life as well.

Nova winds around the corners of the halls and follows two flights up stairs upwards. She walks the all too familiar path that had once been her absolute favorite, until she reaches the open door to Rick’s room.  She hears two faint voices coming from inside, so she knows there isn’t a class going on at the moment, and Rick isn’t going to care if she pops in to his conversation. Still, she politely raps her knuckles against the door frame twice  to announce her presence before entering the room.

When she turns the corner into the room, however, she stops dead in her tracks.

There’s Rick, who hasn’t changed at all since the last time she’s seen him.  He’s half leaning, half sitting casually against his desk with his hands palm-down on the edge and his feet crossed at the ankles. And of course, there in front of him, is Harry standing tall and awkward, wearing a striped jumper and looking just as startled as Nova probably is.

“Nova!” Rick’s greeting is enthusiastic, and it’s clear he’s already twelve steps ahead of both Nova and Harry.  He’s smirking like he knows a secret, and Nova realizes they must have been talking about her.

“Wow!” is all Nova can manage to choke out.  Harry’s cheeks turn red.

“What’s goin’ on, Nova?”  Rick smiles.  “Come on in.  Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Um.  Actually I--”  Nova glances from Rick to Harry, and Harry’s eyes seemed glued on her.  His expression hasn’t changed once other than his cheeks going redder and redder by the second.  His mouth stays open, like he was mid-sentence before she came in, and he and Nova seem to realize this at the same time because he closes his mouth with an embarrassingly loud chomp.  

Why is she so nervous? She had been fully confident less than two minutes ago.  Of course she wanted to talk to Harry but god, not yet. She wanted to have time to think through what she was going to say. She wanted to talk to Rick, to have Rick tell her to stop being a chicken and tell Harry she’s sorry. She wanted to imagine every possible way the conversation could go, any possible response Harry could have.  But now here he is, gangly and visibly uncomfortable and, of fucking course, beautiful.  This was not at all her plan.

Nova turns back to Rick.  “Actually I just realized that I have to do some homework.  I have to leave. Um.  Super hard homework.  It’s due at midnight.  I have to go.”

Nova turns on her heel and almost runs into the wall as she makes her escape.  She lets out a nervous laugh that doesn’t sound at all like a laugh the minute she’s in the hallway.  Her heart is pounding in her ears as she walks, and she feels absolutely ridiculous for all of this.  Why did she react that way?  What were they talking about?  Why did Harry look so nervous?

And then, and she isn’t sure what on earth it is that possess her to do this, she stops walking. The inner voice inside of her gives her the advice she’d known all along.  She needs to face this head on.  

She thinks back briefly to the conversation she’d had with Harry about how every decision she’d ever made in her life had led her here, and she knows that this is a sign. Harry is here, now, and the situation cannot be prolonged any further.

Nova curses under her breath.  She knows exactly what she needs to do right now, and the image of Harry looking cozy and soft and adorable and awkward keeps playing in her mind, motivating her to make her decision.  No matter how scary this is for her, she has to do it.

So she turns back around and marches straight back into Rick’s room.

She hasn’t gone far, which means that she’s back in the room in under ten seconds.  Harry and Rick have hardly moved-- both of them remain frozen watching the door.  Rick is still smiling.  Harry still looks mortified.

Nova takes a deep breath.  “Hello.  I’m back.”

Rick nods his head.  “Hello.”

How on earth is she supposed to do this?  She clears her throat.  “Uh.  Rick, this is my friend Harry.”  Harry winces a little, something that is hardly even noticeable, and Rick snorts.

“Yeah we’ve met actually.”

“Oh.”

Harry won’t meet Nova’s gaze.  “Yeah, class just ended.”

And now Nova feels like a total idiot.  Of course class just ended.  She knew Harry was taking Rick’s class because she’s been more or less tutoring him since they’d met.  Harry was probably just asking Rick for extra help, since he and Nova weren’t on speaking terms.  Nova blinks a few times, processing all of this.  “Oh.”

Rick nods, changing his stance and crossing his arms across his chest.  “How have you been, Nova?  Still enjoying your classes?”

Nova can’t take her eyes off of Harry, who’s nervously fidgeting with the long sleeves of his jumper.  “Uh,” she stammers.  “Yeah.  For sure.”

“That’s good.”  Rick raises his eyebrows, like he’s expecting Nova to say something else.  She clears her throat once again.

“How’s Penelope?”

“She’s great, she’s just learned how to crawl so you can imagine how stressful it’s been around the house.”

Nova offers a half hearted chuckle, and even Harry cracks a smile at the thought of a tiny baby wreaking havoc while crawling around on all fours.  But other than her pitiful excuse for a laugh, there’s a thick silence in the air-- made worse by the ticking of the clock hanging above the door.

Rick lets out a nasally laugh after a few beats.   “Was there something on your mind, Nova?”

Of course Rick would ask that.  He knows her so well.  And although she did come in here to talk to him about what was on her mind, she can’t bring herself to do it.  Not now, with the source of all of her issues standing right in front of her and not even meeting her gaze.

“Uh.. well, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Mm.”  Rick nods his head, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking from Nova to Harry.  He looks back and forth, back and forth, while the all-knowing smile never once leaves his face.  Finally he sighs, straightening his back up   “Well, listen.  I’m not going to pretend like I don’t know what’s going on here.”

Nova and Harry exchange a glance then, and the tips of Harry’s ears become visibly red.  “Dr. Shuff,” he says quietly.  The sentence ends with a period, because truthfully Harry has no idea what else he wants to say.  Rick is absolutely right.

Rick eyes Nova.  “Nova, would I be correct in assuming you came to speak to me about Mr. Styles here?”

Styles.  The name plays back, over and over in Nova’s head.  How had she not known his last name was Styles?  It’s so perfect, so fitting for him.  Harry Styles.  Nova feels herself swooning just the tiniest bit, but the sinking feeling in her stomach keeps her anchored.  She picks nervously at her fingernail.

“Uh.  Yeah.  You would be correct.”

“And Mr. Styles,” Rick angles himself so he’s facing Harry now.  “Your story about your friend-- the musician, right?-- messing up his chances with a girl in the crowd.”  Harry tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as Rick continues.  “Your friend wouldn’t happen to be in this room right now, would he?”

“How could you tell?”  Harry doesn’t show any sign of amusement or embarrassment.  He just stares blankly at the whiteboard beyond Dr. Shuff’s shoulder.  He never had been good at lying.

“Believe it or not,” Rick says slowly.  “I was at your show that night.”

“What?!”  The question comes from both Harry and Nova at the same time, and it makes Rick laugh.  

“Don’t look so shocked.  I may be a professor, but I’m not an old man.  I like to have fun too, you know.”

“Rick--”

Rick cuts Nova off, offering Harry a warm smile.  “Your band is rad, Harry.”

Harry smiles, the first genuine smile he’s given during this entire conversation.  “Thank you!”

“I mean it.  I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  You’ve got some serious talent.”  Rick turns back so that he’s angled towards the both of them.  “But.  Something happened that night, didn’t it?”

“Yes sir.”  Harry speaks quietly, and Nova nearly rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be so formal, Harry.”  It’s the first thing she’s said directly to him, aside from “oh” and she doesn’t like how bitter it sounds.  

Harry shoots Nova a look that is a mixture of hurt and annoyed, but Rick holds up his hand to stop anything from blowing up unnecessarily.  “Nova.  Something happened that night that you both clearly need to talk about, and I can’t be the middleman forever here.  You both came to me, so I’ll be happy to help in any way that I can.  But it’s obvious that this is something that you both really care about.  It’s something that needs to be discussed, and addressed calmly, by both of you.”

Once again, the silence is back-- thicker this time.  Harry runs his tongue over his teeth, looking  anywhere but at Nova.  A million thoughts run wild in Nova’s brain.  She’s angry that Harry seems angry.  She’s hurt.  But at the same time, she wants to run over to him, throw her arms around his neck and kiss him all over.  She chooses, instead, to bite at the inside of her cheek.

To everyone’s surprise, Harry is the first to speak.  “Nova, I’m sorry.”  He still refuses to look at her, but his admission makes her soften the tiniest bit.  “I wasn’t thinking.  You could never have known.”

Nova doesn’t know what to do, and she looks at Rick for guidance.  He raises his eyebrows at her, as if to say “Well?  Your move!” It makes her nervous.   Why won’t Harry look at her?

“Harry… “  She blinks a few times, as if that’s going to clear her mind.  She doesn’t know what to say, and she stumbles over her words.  “I don’t…. I mean… You’re right.  I couldn’t have.  At all.  I didn’t… I had no idea.  You got so mad… I wasn’t….”  She trails off in a sigh.  Realizing how tense she is, she lets her shoulders drop.  The answer wasn’t good enough, not at all, but processing this is hard for her.

Harry laughs, almost bitterly, and shrugs his shoulders.  “Deserve that kind of response I guess.”

“No, what I mean is…”  What does she mean?  Rick’s gaze is burning a hole into Nova’s face,  and Nova wishes that it was Harry’s instead. She groans and tries again.  “What I’m trying to say is--”

Nova is cut off by a voice as two young boys enter the classroom.  One carries a skateboard under his arm, and the other is talking loudly about some girl he’d “fucked”-- as he so graciously put it-- last night.  The two are visibly younger than Harry and Nova, and they all stare at each other for a brief moment when the boys realize they aren’t alone in the room.

Harry clears his throat, as the entire situation becomes even more painfully awkward than before.  Rick smiles, relaxing his stance completely once again.  “Nova, Harry, Intro to Physics is about to start.  Would you like to join us?”

Nova didn’t even know that Rick taught undergrad classes.  She glances from the boys, to Rick, and back to Harry-- who is now staring at her dumbfounded.  

“Uh, sorry,” is the only thing Nova can offer.  “We’ll uh… we’ll come back another time.”  

More students begin filing in the room and Nova turns on her heel to leave.  Of course this would happen.   She hears Harry begin walking as well, thinking maybe he’s going to follow her and try and continue the conversation.

“Guys?”

Both Harry and Nova turn to see Rick still looking at them.   He offers them a reassuring smile.  “Remember what I said, please.  Talk to each other.   Be kind.”

Neither Harry or Nova moves at first, hoping that he’ll offer them a bit more advice.  Nova is about to say something else, but Rick has already turned to greet another student, who has a question about homework.  

Harry is the first to resume walking, heading straight for the door and offering Nova a thin-lipped smile.   He brushes past her then, and she gets a whiff of his scent.  His smell-- the smell she’d come to love, and miss more than anything-- takes her by surprise, and for a split second any and all anger she’d felt melts away.

Immediately she turns to exit the room, nearly bumping into another student.  It takes her a few moments of scanning before she sees which way Harry’s gone.  “Harry!” she calls.

He doesn’t turn around.

Nova’s heart is pounding as she watches him shove earbuds into his ears.  Half of her wants to stay here, watch him disappear into the crowd, and then head home so she can angry cry.

But hell.  She’s already come this far.

“Hey!” Nova calls, louder this time.  She doesn’t even have time to register what she’s doing, her feet are carrying her so quickly down the hall.  Before she knows it, she’s close enough to him that she can smell him, and she reaches up to touch his shoulder.

Harry knows it’s her before he even turns around, as if he was expecting this.  He yanks his earbuds out of his ear and stops walking.  “At least let me get outside first.”

“Why won’t you talk to me?!”  He voice comes out exasperated as she walks around to stand in front of him.  “Harry, you can’t keep avoiding this!”

Harry rolls his eyes, looking over the top of Nova’s head at the crowded hallway, considering what he’s about to say.  “Well we’re not going to do this here, are we?”  It isn’t a question.

“Then where?” Nova presses.  “When?”

Harry doesn’t have an answer for her.  He knows he wants to talk to her about this-- so, so badly, but he also can’t very well express himself in the way he wants to with all these people around.  He lets out a long sigh.  “Follow me.”

He doesn’t offer her any explanation, he just begins walking.  Nova has no choice to follow behind him, like a puppy dog with its tail between its legs.  Harry takes a few turns, and the walk takes longer than Nova is expecting.  She almost thinks that Harry is trying to ditch her, and she’s about to say something, when he stops in front of a door labelled “Tutoring.”  

Nova has seen these rooms before but she’s never been behind one.  She knows there are several designated tutoring rooms located in practically every building, but the only open for anyone with a key card-- meaning designated tutors who’ve made appointments with their tutee.  

To Nova’s surprise, Harry retrieves his wallet from his back pocket and, after a few moments of searching, presents one of the aforementioned key cards.  He holds it up to the magnetic lock and, presto, the door opens.  

Harry pushes the door open without any further explanation, only realizing how strange this looks when Nova doesn’t follow him in.    He shrugs.  “I used to tutor kids in music theory last year.  Surprisingly this thing still works.  Unlocks any tutoring room in any building.”  

Nova still doesn’t say anything, so Harry chuckles, nodding his head over his shoulder.  “Coming?”

For a split second, it feels like everything between them is fine.  Nova shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and makes her way into the room.

When Harry closes the door behind her, Nova is almost shocked at how quiet everything gets.  The room is so small, with a somewhat large table in the center of it surrounded by wheeled chairs.  There’s an old TV in the corner of the room-- the kind that Nova’s high school teachers would play educational films on during half days-- and a whiteboard along the farthest wall.  It looks almost like a miniature classroom, complete with obnoxious fluorescent lighting that somehow adds to Nova’s anxiety, and there are no windows to be found.  They are completely alone.  

Harry drops his backpack onto the floor and makes his way over to the table,  sitting on the edge of it the way Rick had been sitting against his desk.  He shrugs, letting his hands slap against his thighs.  “So talk.”

Nova is taken aback by his abruptness and seemingly nonchalant attitude.  She furrows her eyebrows.  “Excuse me?”

“You’ve obviously got something to say so let’s hear it.  Are you going to tell me I’m wrong again?”

It’s amazing how quickly Nova’s attitude goes from sad, to excited, to angry.  She scoffs.  “What is wrong with you?  You really mean to tell me you have nothing more to talk about?  You think this is on me?”

“Of course I don’t.”  Harry is remaining surprisingly cool on the outside, though inside he can feel his stomach twisting up in knots.  “You’re the one who followed me though.”

“So, once again, you were just going to ignore this?”

“Once again?”  Now Harry’s voice raises a bit.  “What on earth does that mean?”

“You’re exhausting, Harry.  Why won’t you just talk to me?”

Harry offers her his smug grin that, under any other circumstances, she would find sexy.  Now she just wants to slap it right off of his face, especially when all he says is, “We’re talking right now, are we not?”

Nova sighs through her teeth, and her voice is just on the brink of yelling.  “You can’t keep running from this you know!”

“Oh, I know I can’t!” He says, rising to his feet and moving towards her.  Everything about him is big, and he looms over Nova in a way that she’s never noticed.  “I’m not trying to!  You’re the one that doesn’t want to talk.  You don’t want to hear it, and you’ve made it very clear.”

“Excuse me?!”  Nova blinks a few times, and her hand subconsciously finds it way to her hip.  “What the hell does that mean?”

Harry scoffs.  “You’re so good at always getting your way, aren’t you?  You want me to beg, and I’m not going to do it.  I tried to apologize, Nova.  Just now. In front of Dr.  Shuff.  And you shut me down.”

Nova rolls her eyes.  “Oh my GOD.   You are so fucking dramatic, you know that?  I didn’t ‘shut you down’ in there.  I’m allowed to be upset, Harry, I just need time to think through my words.  I have to think about how to tell you that I’m sorry.  Okay?  God, I’m so fucking sorry, but you know what?  I was the one who apologized! The very night it happened! But what did you do?”

“Nova--”  

“You ignored it, Harry! So don’t tell me that I’m the one who ‘doesn’t want to hear it.’”

“How come you’re the only one who gets ‘time’ to think, then?  You expected a response right then and there?  I was allowed to be hurt, too, you know.”

“You had this whole week to think through your response, Harry.  You had the entire week to forgive me, and you didn’t!”

“And where were you?” Harry’s voice raises now, matching Nova’s in volume.  “Hm? Where were you this whole bloody week?  Because I didn’t hear from you either.”

“You ignored me Harry!”  Nova reaches up to run her fingers through her hair.  “Are you kidding me?!  What the fuck else was I supposed to take from that?”

She’s right.  Harry knows she’s right, but dammit, so is he.  He has absolutely no idea how to respond, so instead he just lets his eyes close.  He breathes softly, allowing his anger to subside just a bit. “Nova,” he says quietly after a beat, “We’re just going to keep going in circles here.  This is helping no one.”

Nova’s cheeks grow hot.  She notices the shift in Harry’s temperament, and it drives her crazy, but she knows he’s right.  Talking in circles is clearly solving nothing.  “So how do we stop then?”  She’s still upset, but her voice has lowered too.  Now she just wants to cry.  “What do we do, Harry?  Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Harry scans her face, trying to come up with an answer to her request.  When he falls short, he sighs, shaking his head.  “I don’t know.  I don’t fucking know.”

Nova swallows, wanting nothing more than to reach up and stroke at his cheek.  She refrains, of course, but her fingers curl and uncurl, just itching to touch him.  “Harry--”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says.  His tone isn’t angry, its sad.  “Please.  I don’t know what to do, Nova.  I miss you.”

The pressure behind Nova’s eyes builds just a bit, and she tries to blink it away, knowing that if they continue this way she’ll be crying in no time.  “I miss you, too.  How do we fix this?”

Harry reaches forward to take her hands in his, and Nova swallows at the contact.  It’s so simple, so soft.  She repeats herself.  “How do we fix this, Harry?”

“I feel like a fucking idiot,” he says.  It isn’t an answer to her question, it more so feels like he’s working everything out in his own mind.

“You’re not an idiot,” she says, blinking up at him.  “You aren’t at all.”

“I am though.  This whole thing is so dramatic, and there’s no good reason for it.   I turned it into this whole....thing.  I overreacted.”

“You didn’t--”

“You couldn’t have known.”

Nova’s heart sinks, and she gives his hand a squeeze.  “You couldn’t have either.  You know that.”

“I think…”  Harry sighs.  “I don’t know what I think.  I care about you a lot.  I fucked up.  I overreacted and I know that.  But when I didn’t hear from you--”

“Stop.”  Nova lets go of one of his hands, finally giving in to her urge to cup his cheek.  She forces him to look at her.  “Stop it.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nova’s face feels hot, and when she blinks she’s not surprised to feel a tear slip down her cheek.  “I’m sorry, too,” she says.

Harry leans his head down the slightest bit, until he’s close enough that Nova can feel his breath.  He hesitates a brief moment, both of them just drinking in the feeling of being close to one another again, before fastening their lips together softly. It starts out as just a peck, almost a question, asking the other if they’re alright with this.  But when neither makes an effort to pull away when their lips come apart, they have their answer.  

Harry’s hand finds its way to the back of Nova’s neck while his other hand slides up her waist.  It feels so good, so absolutely perfect to be here with her like this again.  He’s thought about this every night, falling asleep to the thought of kissing her, tasting her in the most innocent way.  Intimacy in the softest form.  

He sighs into the kiss, hardly removing his lips from hers.  “You smell good.”  

Nova hums into his mouth, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his hair.  She traces his bottom lip with her tongue, and he gladly complies, opening his mouth for her and pulling her even impossibly closer.  

It’s beautiful, but it’s sad.  Tension fizzles in every corner of the room, and they know that nothing has been resolved just yet but god, do they need this right now.

Both of Harry’s hands find their way to Nova’s hips, and he guides her gently backwards until her backside presses against the table.  She shifts a bit until she’s sitting on it, with Harry resting between her legs.

“I wish you were mine, Nova.”

His words catch her off guard.  “I am,” she says, pulling away.  She doesn’t remove her hand from his face.  “I have been for a while.”

Harry says nothing back, he only continues to kiss her.  His hands travel along her spine and into her hair, and his lips trail along her neck softly.  Nova sighs when he hits a particularly sweet spot, and he loves the sound so much that he sinks his teeth into the spot just to hear it again.  She reaches for one of his hands and squeezes it.  “I’m yours, Harry,” she says softly.

He sighs, removing his lips from her neck and resting his forehead in the spot where neck meets shoulder.  “You’re an angel, baby.  You aren’t mine.”

“What does that mean?”  Nova says sadly, lifting his head with both hands and looking at him.  “Of course I am.  Stop saying that.”

“I never asked,” he says.  “I never made you mine.  I did it all wrong.”

“It isn’t too late to fix it,” Nova replies, offering a soft smile that makes him melt.   “We can forget this.”

“How?” he asks.  “If we’re going to keep fighting--”

“We both said we’re sorry!” Nova uses her thumb to stroke at Harry’s cheek.  “I miss you.  I want to be yours.”

Harry’s eyes dart from Nova’s eyes to her lips and back again, and he presses one more soft kiss to her lips before standing fully upright. He smiles at her, letting his nails trail softly up and down her parted thighs when he speaks.  “I miss you so much.”

“So let’s stop then.”  She leans forward, kissing him once more.  “Let’s move on.”

“I want to,” he says. “Darling, I want to so badly.”

“So let’s do it.”

“We just need time.”  He offers her a sad smile.  “Just a little longer.”

Nova’s heart sinks at his words, and she lets out an exasperated groan.  “Harry what are you talking about?! We’re fine now!   We forgive each other!”

“I just….”  Harry sighs.  “I need to stop feeling sorry for myself, I think.  I need time to sort through everything.”

“Tell me what you want me to do!” Nova’s words echo what she’d said when they’d first entered this room, but now she feels more vulnerable about them.  “I’ll do it, just tell me.  Please.”

“I can’t,” he says, shaking his head.  “I don’t know what I want you do to.  I don’t know what I want to do.  I just want to go back to a week ago.  I want to go back and do this the right way.”

“We can do it the right way now!” Nova says, whining when Harry pulls away.  “Stop doing this to yourself!”

“Can I tell you something?”  Harry says, now standing just out of Nova’s reach.

“Of course,” she says.  “Anything.”

“I know that we haven’t known each other a very long time when you really think about it.  And I know that all of this has been turned into something so much more dramatic than it needs to be.  But you know what?”  Nova doesn’t say anything, wanting to give him time to work through his thoughts.  He nods his head, as if coming to a realization.  “I’ve never felt this way about anyone else in my life, Novocaine.”

Nova’s heart melts at the nickname that she’d grown so fond of, and she feels her eyes prickling with tears.  “I feel the same way about you, Harry.”

“Which is why,” he says slowly,  “we need time.  We need to do this right.”

Nova sighs.  “Harry you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know, sweet girl,” Harry says.  “I’m just overwhelmed, I think.  Like, I feel stupid.  I didn’t expect to see you today, you know? I just… I think I just need a moment to process all of this.”

Nova snorts. “We’ve had a week, Harry.”  But she gets it. She knows he’s right, and truthfully, she needs to do a bit of processing herself.

“Look.  I forgive you, you forgive me.  We’re okay on that front.  But we can’t… do this right now.  Not right here.”

“When then?”

Harry smiles, ignoring her question and walking over to his previously discarded backpack. He picks it up, slinging it over his right shoulder.  “I do have classes today, you know.  Classes where attendance is crucial to my grade. Quit encouraging me to be a bad student.”

Nova rolls her eyes, but of course she’s happy to be back to their usual banter.  “Fine.  Go to class then.  Just text me later.”

Harry raises a hand, playfully saluting her and making her giggle.  “Yes ma’am.”

When the door closes with an echoing thud, Nova can’t help but stare a while longer.   She reaches up to touch at her lips, frowning when she realizes that they’ve been chapped this entire time.   She can still taste Harry on her tongue, and his smell still lingers in the air around her.  His words keep playing over and over in her head-- he’s never felt this way about anyone else,    Nova isn’t sure if she should be scared or excited by that.

She smiles to herself, fishing around in her purse until she finds her phone.  Pulling it out, she scrolls straight to her messages with Harry.  It feels good to be able to do this again, to text him without having to worry about it.  Quickly she types out a message and hits the little blue arrow without thinking.

“Is it later yet?” ----- Nova spends the rest of the day in a daze, replaying Harry’s words over and over again in her head.  He’s never felt this way about anyone else in his life, and god knows Nova feels the same about him.  But why won’t he talk to her?  Why won’t he fix this now?

Jessie pushes the issue again for the first time since Tuesday, and Nova considers telling her everything.  She knows Jessie won’t judge, and she thinks that maybe Jessie will have an answer for her as to what the hell Harry meant about needing time.  But just as Nova’s about to bring it up, Jessie groans at a text on her phone.

“God, Jade is driving me fucking crazy.” She tosses her phone onto the couch next to her.

“Oh yeah?”  Nova pulls her legs up to her chest, and grins at Jessie from where she sits at the dining room.  “What’s going on?”

Jessie launches into this entire story about her “best friend” Jade, and Nova tries to listen-- really-- except everything is making her think of Harry.  As much as she hates feeling like a teenager with her very first crush, she can’t help it.  The thought of Harry’s lips against her neck makes her heart flutter, and the memory of his warmth between her thighs makes her weak.  She just wants to hear from him again, even if he thinks they need time.

Thankfully Jessie doesn’t pick up on how distracted Nova seems to be when she gives her advice.  Nova has heard Jessie talk about Jade like this a million times, so she pulls from her memory bank to offer words of encouragement and agreements that “yeah, Jade sucks.”  When Nova’s phone buzzes mid-sentence, she can’t even help but to trail off and glance down at her phone.

Of course it isn’t Harry.

Jessie snorts, snapping Nova’s attention back to the present situation.  

“What?”  Nova blurts.

“Is it that one British dude from the party?”  Jessie asks, nonchalantly tossing her hair over her shoulder and picking up her previously discarded phone.  “The guy who walked us home?”

Nova bites at her bottom lip.  “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”  Jessie smirks but she doesn’t look up from her phone.  “Did he text you?”

Nova sighs.  “No.  He didn’t.”

“You wanted him to though, huh?”

“I mean—“

“Kid, I may have been drunk that night but I’m not stupid.  There’s definitely something going on, is there not?”

“Well….” Nova trails off once again.  “There is. Or I guess there was. There might be.  I don’t know.”

Jessie sits up a bit. “Nova! What the hell!”

“What?!”

“You’ve been letting me go on and on for fucking ever now about all my problems. I didn’t know you had yourself a man!”

“I don’t!”

“You sure?”

Nova groans and rests her head in the palm of her hand. “I don’t know, Jess. It’s complicated.”

“Okay so let’s unpack this.”  Jessie drops her phone into her lap, fully ready to go into a therapy session.  “You had a man.”

“I guess so.”

“What happened?”

Nova pauses only briefly before unloading the situation on Jessie.  She, of course, spares quite a few details but the gist is still there.  Jessie listens diligently, only interjecting a few times but generally being completely understanding.  Nova doesn’t realize how long she’s been talking, or how much she’s saying, until she finds herself a bit winded when she reaches her ending point.

Jessie remains ever patient, smiling at Nova and waiting to be absolutely sure that she’s finished her story.  When she doesn’t continue, Jessie nods-- letting out a breath she’s been holding this entire time.  “Well,” she says slowly.  “That was a lot.”

“Was it?”  Nova frowns.

“You wanna know what I think, kid?  Honestly?”   She doesn’t give Nova any time to answer.  “I think you’re both being disgustingly dramatic for no reason.”

Nova snorts, shocked at Jessie’s bluntness.  “What?!”

“So you messed up because you weren’t paying attention to his one brave little confession of love, and now suddenly you’re both crying and avoiding each other?  Are you guys in high school?”  Jessie puts on a terrible British accent in an overly deep voice, mimicking Harry.  ‘I ‘fink I jus’ need sum mo’ time to wallow in my own self pity.’  Give me a break.”

“Harry doesn’t sound like that.”

“And you!”  Jessie laughs.  “You’re gonna beat yourself up over this?  Still?  A week later?  Come ON.”

Nova is laughing now, too.  Jessie may be blunt, but her words are appreciated and they definitely help Nova out of her own head.  “Alright, so what do you suggest I do then?”

Jessie glances at the time on her phone before swinging her legs over the side of the couch and rising to her feet. “Well,” she says.  “I’m about to leave  for work.  Invite his ass over.”

“I don’t know if he wants to talk about this anymore.”

“Oh my god,” Jessie says, rolling her eyes and slipping her phone into the waistband of her yoga pants.  She begins heading into her room.  “You’re not gonna get anything solved if you keep that attitude.  There’s no use dwelling on this anymore.  It’s been a week.  Either it’s meant to work out, or its not.”  

Once again, Jessie doesn’t wait for Nova to respond.  She disappears into her bedroom, scrolling through her phone.

In a weird way, Jessie’s words give Nova a surge of confidence.  Of course she wants to give Harry his time, but Jessie is right-- the whole situation feels entirely too dramatic for Nova’s liking.  While she doesn’t expect things to go right back to how they were, she doesn’t want to dwell on this any longer.  She misses him, and after their short interaction today Nova finds herself craving more.

With a smile, Nova pulls out her phone.  As soon as she unlocks it, it opens straight up to a brief conversation she’d had with Harry earlier today.

-Is it later yet?

-Cheeky. -Missed you though.  More than you know.

-We’re going to be just fine, Harry.

He hadn’t replied because he’d been in class, and Nova almost feels embarrassed to be sending him a double text.  But she tries to embody the spirit of Jessie and keep her confidence levels up.  So she clears her throat, as if she were about to verbally speak with someone, and shoots him a text.

-What are you doing right now?  Come over!

Nova hits send without even thinking, but instantly feels the panic begin to rise up in her stomach.  She reads the text aloud, quietly to herself, and then immediately shoots him another one.

-We don’t have to talk anymore about what happened -We can just hang out if you want -Like, watch a movie and stuff -But then again, if you want to talk about it, I’m good with that as well

With each text she sends, Nova can feel her confidence draining.  This is why she hadn’t wanted to tell Jessie in the first place. Although she knew the girl talk would do her some good, she wasn’t Jessie.  Anxiety bubbles up in Nova’s stomach, reaching her chest and pooling at the base of her neck.   Her throat feels completely dry, and she rises to her feet without hesitation. Dropping her phone face down onto the table, she makes her way into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

It will be fine, won’t it?  Yes, things technically haven’t fully been resolved just yet, but at least it’s still the same Harry.  Harry knows her.  Double and even triple texts had never really been a problem for either of them thus far.  Surely Harry won’t mind.

With a water bottle in hand, Nova gulps down a few sips and makes her way back to her spot at the dining table.  Her hand shakes slightly as she reaches for her phone, and she almost fully closes her eyes when she turns it so that the screen faces her.

He’s responded, and Nova doesn’t know whether to be nervous or happy.  As if on autopilot mode, she unlocks her phone to read his message.

-I wish I could. I’m out right now running errands.

Nova bites her lip, trying her hardest to not feel left down.  Her fingers seem to have a mind of their own, and although her actual mind is begging her not to, she types and sends out another message to him.

-That’s fine.  Maybe later? -If it would make you feel better, we could hang out somewhere public. -I was thinking of getting a coffee in a bit.  That might be fun!

She groans, using one hand to rub at her face.  Stop fucking texting him Nova.

-What time later?

His response is quick, leaving Nova hardly any time to think through her response.  She glances in the upper left corner of her phone to read the time- 1:51.

-Uhhh… maybe 3?  Does that work?

Why is she doing this?  After Harry clearly said he needed space and time, here she is making an absolute buffoon of herself.  If he says no, she won’t blame him.  Her phone pings with another message.

-Can’t.  I have band practice at three. :(

Then again, she might blame him a little.

Nova sighs, setting her phone down, then picking it back up. Her mind goes back and forth between whether she should text him or just leave it there.   As if to add fuel to the flames of her gut-wrenching embarrassment, he texts again.

-Sorry, love.

She swallows then, willing herself not to cry.  It isn’t that he doesn't want her, and she knows that.  He’d said so earlier, he wished she was his.  But here she is, practically giving herself to him, and for what?  For him to be busy.  For him to need more time; a request that, for some reason, she struggles to honor.

Blinking back a few small tears she replies.

-It’s okay! I’m still probably going to go anyway so just let me know if you change your mind -You can just meet me in the hallway if you do

Why did she say that?

-Or even in like, the actual coffee shop.  Cause I’ll be there one way or another at 3

It’s useless.  Nova knows it’s useless but she can’t seem to stop embarrassing herself.  She sees the gray dots that indicate Harry’s typing and immediately powers off her phone-- knowing that it’s the only way to end the conversation with a bit of dignity.

She lets out a sigh and reaches up to wipe at her slightly damp eye as Jessie clomps back into the room in her heels.  It hasn’t taken her long at all to get ready for work, and that’s one thing that Nova has always envied about her.  She still looks gorgeous, of course, and she shoots Nova a blinding smile.

“Well?”

Nova plays dumb.  “Well what?”

“Is he coming?”

“Uh.”   Jessie is, of course, coming from a good place, and Nova knows that.  Still, she isn’t sure she’s ready to get into this any further with Jessie.  Like Harry, Nova needs time to process.   So she offers Jessie a smile.  “I think so.  We’re probably gonna meet up in a bit.”

“Ugh, thank GOD.”  Jessie makes her way over to where Nova sits, bending down to wrap Nova up in a hug.  “See?  Everything will be fine.”   She combs her fingers through Nova’s hair, sending a chill up the younger girls spine, before straightening up and heading towards the door.  “Don’t wait up,” She calls over her shoulder, grabbing her keys off the hook by the door.  “Jade and I are going out for drinks tonight after work.”

“Jade?”  Nova questions, turning in her seat.  “I thought you hated her now.”

Jessie scoffs, opening up the front door and slipping through it as she speaks.  “She’s annoying the fuck out of me but I don’t hate her.  Besides, a drink is a drink!”  She raises her fingers to her lips and blows Nova a kiss, wiggling her fingers at the end.  “Bye kid!  Good luck!”

When the door closes, Nova is left alone with the silence that follows.  It’s so loud it makes her uncomfortable, and she lets out a long and overly dramatic sigh.

She eyes her bedroom door then, as a thought creeps into her head.

At least she knows one sure fire way to relieve her own stress.

-------------- It’s 2:46pm, and Nova is coming down from the high of not one, not two, but three of the most incredible orgasms of her life.

She’d always heard that orgasms were an amazing stress reliever (something about dopamine or serotonin, if Nova remembers correctly) but truth be told she’d never used her vibrator while stressed.  Stress tends to be a common theme in Nova’s life, however, and now  that she knows just how good a stress orgasm can be, she foresees lot of time alone in her bedroom in the near future.  The pleasure--however fleeting-- is enough to heighten her mood just a bit.  Every source of her issues has been forgotten.

Well, almost every source.

Nova had allowed herself to think of Harry while playing with herself, although it did take a bit of work to make her brain shut up about all the texts she’d sent to him earlier.  She had been drowning in embarrassment up until the vibe had hit a particularly sensitive spot, causing her mouth to fall open and a rather loud “oh” to fall from her lips.  It was the first time in a while that Nova hadn’t worried about her volume levels for any reason other than letting Harry hear her.  Who cared if he had anyway?  And besides, she hadn’t heard him come home since they’d texted.  (Not that she’d been paying attention of course.)

She glances at the analog clock on her bedside table.  (The clock that Jessie always made fun of Nova for still having.) She has about 10 minutes to get ready if she wants to be at the coffee shop around 3.

Nova knows Harry isn’t coming. He’d flat out told her he wasn’t.  She feels like an idiot for holding on to a bit of hope that he’ll be waiting there for her, but still. (Besides, even if he doesn’t show up, a coffee sounds great.)  She rolls lazily off of her bed and begins going through the motions of getting cleaned up.  

Her phone remains forgotten and blank on the dinner table, and Nova eyes it suspiciously as she makes her way towards the front door.  For a moment she considers taking it with her but ultimately she decides against it.  Should Harry change his mind, he deserves to have a hard time getting ahold of her.

She gives the apartment a once over, making sure she hasn’t left anything plugged in or any lights turned on.  When she’s certain that everything is in its place, she grabs her keys and opens the door.    She hardly looks up as she exits, nearly bumping into the wall of a person in front of her.

She looks up, ready to give this person a piece of her mind for being so bloody close to her front door, when she stops dead in her tracks.

There’s Harry, now wearing a black hoodie over the jumper he’d adorned earlier.  His hair is a mess, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower, and he raises his eyebrows almost challengingly before Nova can even get a word out.  

“Harry,” Nova breathes, her mouth hanging open in shock. “What… I--”

“Don’t look so surprised, Novocaine.”

Nova shakes her head. “I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“Yeah.  Well.”  Harry smirks.  “You always have been good at getting your way.”

Immediately Nova nearly collapses into his arms. It’s like a scene right out of a Rom-Com, and probably entirely too dramatic given the circumstances, but Nova doesn’t care.  She wraps her arms around his middle and presses her face into his chest as close as she can get it.  Harry’s arms grab at her, as if relieved, and he gently guides them backwards into her apartment.  

It’s an awkward stumble and Harry accidentally steps on Nova’s toes once or twice but soon they’re standing in her living room.  With one hand still around her, Harry reaches behind him to close her front door.

Then they waste no time.  They continue to stumble around, arms wrapping around one another, lips kissing everywhere they can possibly reach.  Their teeth even clink together a few times just from how sloppy and haphazard their kisses are.  They speak between kisses, breaking up their sentences in awkward places.

“I’m sorry,” Nova breathes.  “I’m so so sorry.”

Harry kisses all over her face. “I’m so… sorry.  You have nothing…. To be… sorry for.”

“I do.  I really… do.”

“But you don’t.”  Harry reaches up to cup Nova’s face in his hands.  He holds her gaze, and the misty look of her eyes melts his heart.  “You absolutely don’t Nova, do you hear me? I’m the asshole.  I’m an overly dramatic prick.”

She frantically grabs at his face and pulls him down to fasten their lips together once more.  “You’re not--” kiss “--an asshole.”  She kisses the corner of his lips.  “I am.”

“You’re not.”  Harry’s hands find their way under Nova’s bum and she jumps a little, wrapping her legs around his waist.  “Please don’t say that.”  He kisses her cheeks rapidly, moving back and forth.  “You’re not, you’re not, you’re not.”

It’s so desperate and messy and a little bit awkward as Harry stumbles through Nova’s apartment into what he assumes is her bedroom.  All the while they’re continuing to breathe out apologies and half coherent explanations.

“I wasn’t thinking.  I should have--”

“I shouldn’t have expected you to--”

“We both could have--”

“How could you have known?”

“I wish I hadn’t--”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know, I’m sorry, too.”

When they finally get into Nova’s room, Harry drops her a bit ungracefully onto the bed.  He wastes no time in plopping down next to her and continuing to kiss her.  They’re both smiling into the kiss, maneuvering their way around the bed so that they’re comfortable and have the easiest access to each other’s lips.

“Harry I--”

He cuts her off with another kiss.  “Please.  Please don’t apologize, baby, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

“When I danced with him, I--”

“I know, sweet girl.”

“We talked about you the entire time.”

“Don’t need to explain yourself to me.”  But then, Harry does pull away from the kiss, and his familiar smirk teases at the corner of his lips as her words register in his mind.  “The entire time, huh?”

Nova giggles.  “Yes.  We really did.  I couldn’t shut up about how hot you are.”

Harry chuckles and pretends to flip long hair over his shoulder.  “Well, who can blame you.  I mean with my killer looks and my horrible attitude when you aren’t devoting your full attention to me?  Come on now.”

Nova’s giggles turn into a full blown laugh and she lightly pushes Harry.  “Harry, oh my god.  Don’t.  Don’t do that.”

Harry’s beaming now, clearly happy to have her smiling again.  “Do what?”

“Apologize.  Talk bad about yourself.  You did nothing wrong.”

“I did though.”  His face gets a bit more serious, despite his smile never leaving.  “I shouldn’t have assumed--”

“Harry.”  Nova reaches up to stroke at his face, and Harry takes her wrist in his hand.  He slowly turns his head to kiss her palm.

“I shouldn’t have planned it that way,”  he continues.  “I should have told you so long ago about how I felt.  Instead of making an idiot of myself.”

Nova’s eyes get misty once again.  “You didn’t make an idiot of yourself.”

“Well I didn’t exactly act like a winner that night, did I?”  Harry chuckles, kissing Nova’s knuckles before dropping their hands to rest in his lap.  “I should have never assumed anything.  I should have never acted… like that… when my plan didn’t go smoothly.  How could you have known?  You couldn’t have.   I blew it, and you don’t deserve that, Nova. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Nova says, for what must be the 80th time in the last five minutes.  “I should have been paying attention.  I should have thought about how it must have looked.  I--”

Harry shakes his head.  “Stop it.”

“Listen, if you get to apologize then so do I.” Harry laughs, which only causes Nova to furrow her eyebrows.  “I’m serious!”

“Alright, alright!  Go for it.”

Nova clears her throat for dramatic effect, before continuing.  “You’re right, I couldn’t have known.  But I still could have-- should have paid much, much better attention than I did.  Jason meant nothing to me.  He was into Clare, actually.  He wanted me to hook him up with her after the show.”

Harry snorts.  “No shit.  Clare?”

“Yup, and he was super annoying about it the whole time, too!”

“Should’ve figured that, I guess.  The man was practically drooling over her at our gig a few weeks ago.  Makes sense.”

Nova giggles, giving Harry’s hand a squeeze.  “I could’ve been a little more clear.   I didn’t need to dance with him.  I didn’t think about how it would look.  So.  I am sorry.”

Harry eyes Nova for a few minutes, a cheeky little smirk spreading across his face.  “What was that?”

“I… didn’t need to dance with him?”

“No, no.  After that.”

“I’m… sorry?”

Nova almost doesn’t have time to get the words out before Harry’s kissing her, hard and sloppy and quick.  She giggles in surprise, and when Harry pulls away he’s beaming.  “One more time?  Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I’m--”

Harry does it again, even quicker this time before Nova can even get her apology out at all.  She’s melting into him, giggling into his mouth.

“Once more?  Still didn’t really get it.”

“I’m--”

And once again, they kiss.

Their game goes on for a few more moments, their giggles and mumbled words filling the room,  until finally, Harry doesn’t pull away.  Instead his hand snakes behind her neck, his thumb resting on her cheek.  They’re both smiling wide,  and Nova relaxes a bit until she’s laying back against the pillows of her bed.  Harry, of course, follows suit,  laying down beside her and propping his knee between her legs.

They stay like that for a bit longer, kissing and smiling, with Harry’s hands trailing lazily from her hair to her neck and up and down her arms.   When he pulls away, it’s only slightly, his face still only a few inches away from hers.  “Missed you so fucking much.”

Nova beams, leaning in to kiss just under his neck.  “Missed you.”

He reaches up to run his knuckle along her cheek, the spot just before her ear, and she leans affectionately into his touch.  “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” He says slowly, eyeing her as if she’s the most interesting thing in the world.

His fingertips are feather soft, and Nova giggles as she rolls over onto her tummy.  “You may have.”  She turns her head to kiss the tip of Harry’s thumb before taking it softly between her teeth.  “But say it again.”

“You’re beautiful.”  He makes no effort to free his thumb from her teeth, and his eyes light up a bit when her lips enclose around it.  Her tongue grazes lightly against the tip, and he lets out a breath.  “God, baby.”

Nova pulls off of his thumb with a soft pop noise, leaving it to rest softly against the pillow of her bottom lip when she grins at him.  “I like it when you call me that.”

“Baby?”

She grins like a little girl, pressing a few quick pecks to his finger.  “Yeah.  Say it again.”

Harry props himself on his elbow with a smile, leaning in so he’s closer to her.  “Baby.”

“Again.”

He draws out the word slowly as he leans closer, then presses his lips to her neck. “Baby,” he repeats, punctuating the word with another kiss.  

She giggles, her shoulder rising as his breath tickles a spot just below her ear.  “This is probably so cheesy to say.”  Harry purposely bites the spot that made her giggle, and she full on flinches away from him with a squeal and a laugh.  “Harry don’t, I’m trying to be romantic!”

“This is romantic,” he says, pulling her closer by her hip and pressing another kiss to the spot.    “Go on.”

“I was just going to say that I think that’s my favorite nickname you’ve ever called me.”

“Oh yeah?”  Harry pulls back just a bit so he can look at her.  “Better than Novocaine?”

“M-hm.”

“Better than SuperNova?”  Harry sounds shocked and it makes Nova snort.

“I think you’ve only called me that once.”

“Do you want me to call you that again?”

“Mmm,” Nova pretends to think long and hard, pressing a finger to her chin.  “I don’t know.  It’s kinda sexy.”

“Right,” Harry says, nodding.  “Noted.  What else do you like to be called?”

“Anything that comes out of your mouth.”

Harry smiles, scanning his face before leaning in for another kiss.  “Now that was a cheesy thing to say.”

Nova laughs, shrugging up her shoulders and reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair.  “I can’t help it!  Maybe it’s your accent.”

Harry raises his eyebrows.  “Oh is that all?”

“Yeah.  It has nothing to do with the guy saying the nickname.” Nova is beaming as she gently tugs on his neck, bringing him with her as she relaxes once again against the pillows.

Harry’s voice is low and syrupy when he speaks, lips still grazing against hers.  “Alright, that’s also noted.”  He kisses at her cheek.  “Baby.”

Nova sighs as his lips continue their journey along her cheeks, her nose, her forehead-- uttering nicknames all the while.

“Princess.” “A bit cheesy, but I can’t say I hate it.”

“Sweetheart.”

Nova hums out a sigh, basking in the love he’s giving her and closing her eyes.  His petal soft kisses raise goosebumps along her skin. “What else?”

“Angel.”  He bumps her nose with his own, kissing gently at her lips.  His hands find their way to her hips, rubbing lightly at the skin there.

Nova arches her back, and props one arm behind her head as Harry’s tongue licks softly along the underside of her jaw. “Petal.”

His fingers curl ever so gently so that his fingernails scratch lightly along the waistband of her pants, dipping into them when he reaches just below her bellybutton. “Baby.”  He can feel her chest rising and falling as his fingers tease at her panties, but she isn’t fully paying attention to what he’s saying.   “Beautiful girl.”  He bumps her nose with his own again, this time to notify her to open her eyes.

Her lashes flutter open sleepily, and she reaches up to scratch at the spot just behind his ear with a smile.  “Baby.”  She says it as if she’s getting used to the feeling of the word in her mouth.  Harry feels a bit of a twinge of his cock when sees her like this.  Just from kissing her, he’s already got her dazed and in the softest headspace.  He wants to cry, she’s so precious.

He only smiles, inching his way up the bed a bit without removing his hand from her pants. “Hey.”  He teases lightly at the bow that he feels on the front of her panties as he dips his head down to kiss her collarbone.  “This alright?”

“Mm,” Nova says with a nod, tilting her head a bit and watching him as if she’s hanging on his every move.  “It is.”

“Yeah?”  Harry presses another kiss just above her collarbone, and then one to her inner arm, which is currently propped up by her head.  “You sure?”

He rubs light circles against her lower belly now, and Nova has never felt more sure of anything.  He leaves no spot untouched, not a trace of skin that doesn’t feel loved by him.  Her skin still feels traces of his lips from where he’s kissed, and god she wants his mouth even lower.  She nods her head.  “Of course.”

Harry smiles, wasting no time.  He allows his fingers to dip further and further into her panties until he’s skin to skin with where she’s already wet.  This, of course, gives him an idea.  And Harry is nothing if he isn’t a little shit.

“Sure you’re not worn out from the orgasms you just had not ten minutes ago?”

Nova’s eyes open again, and her smile fades.  “How did you… did you hear?”

“Don’t go all shy on me now, baby. S’not like I’ve never heard before.”

“But you…”  Nova props up on her elbows a bit, embarrassed but amused.  “I didn’t do that for you to hear.  I thought you’d be at band practice by now.”

“Like I said,” Harry says with a teasing grin, curling his fingers unexpectedly against Nova’s clit and making he gasp.  “You have a way of getting what you want.”  

He’s rubbing circles against her core now, and she relaxes once again against the pillows.  She lets out a moan, obviously still sensitive, and Harry’s fingers switch to a teasingly slow pace. He never once ceases the movement as he speaks, looking down at her with the hint of a smirk ever present.  “For the record,” he says, paying extra close attention to the way her body reacts to his touches.  “That’s not the reason I came over.”  He leans down to kiss her ear, brushing his lips along the outside.  “I came because I missed you.  Because I wanted to talk to you.  Because I have never felt so strongly about anyone in my life.”  He bites lightly at her earlobe and she shivers.  “Because I was an asshole.  And I needed to fix what I’d fucked up  Something that wasn’t your fault.”

Nova is wiggling against his fingers, her own fingers curling into the sheets beside her and her eyes fluttering closed.  But Harry knows she’s listening.  Her words are spoken between moans, and she keeps taking breaks to bite at her lip-- especially when Harry slips a finger inside of her.  “You’re not… you’re not an asshole… no--shit… no more apologizing.”

“I will be sorry till the day I die,” Harry says with a nonchalant chuckle, as if he isn’t absolutely destroying her with just one hand.  “You did nothing wrong. As soon as I left that room today I felt like a fucking idiot.  I just didn’t know how to tell you.”  He noses lightly at her temple, practically melting at her scent, and presses another finger into her.  

“Harry,” it’s a plea, barely above a whisper.  Both of her hands find their way to his bicep and she squeezes, trying to anchor herself from the overstimulation.

“You want me to stop, baby?”  His fingers slow almost completely, and he kisses the top of her head.  “Hm?”

“No, no, it’s not that.”  She swallows thickly.  “I want you to keep going.”  She looks at him with fire in her eyes.  “I don’t ever want you to stop.  You’re so good.”

“Oh.”  Harry picks up the pace with his fingers only slightly, grinning down at her, hanging on her every moan, every whimper. Nova lets out a frustrated whimper, reaching down to grasp at the wrist that’s attached to the hand tucked into her panties.  “Please,” she says,  “Go faster.”

“You know,” Harry says conversationally, completely unfazed by the way her nails dig into his skin,  “Now that I think about it, you haven’t been so good yourself.”  He slows his movements once again until altogether coming to a stop and pulling his fingers out from inside of her.  She full on pouts at the loss of movement and it makes him laugh.  

“What?!” she says, exasperated.  “Just tell me what I did  so I can apologize for it.”

Harry takes his sweet time pulling his fingers out from her pants, lifting them to his lips and sucking-- just as he did the night on the park bench.  Nova watches him helplessly, pleading with her eyes for him to touch her again.  His cheeks hollow as he sucks on his own fingers, and Nova knows he’s putting on a show for her when he looks up at her from under his lashes.  She can tell that his tongue is swirling delicately around the digits and he smirks when he removes them with a pop.  “God, you taste good.”

“Harry please, for the love of god, just tell me so I can apologize.”

“That desperate for my fingers, huh?”  Harry wiggles his eyebrows and Nova scowls.

“Fucking hell, Harry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Nova.  You don’t owe me anything.  But that doesn’t mean you’ve been a good girl.”

Nova genuinely wracks her brain, trying to come up with an answer.  “Is this because I fucking sent you 300 texts today?”

Harry snorts, but he doesn’t break.  “Come on, baby, you know me better than that.”  Nova stares at him, pleading for him to just tell her.  His tone remains calm and conversational, and he can practically smell her dripping between her thighs just as his words drip out of his mouth.  “No?  You really don’t know?  Alright, I’ll give you a hint.”

He leans in closer, lowering his voice.  “Do you really think that it was nice of you to use that toy without me?”

Nova shrinks a bit into the pillows, chewing at her bottom lip while a mischievous smile begins to tug at her cheeks.  Now she knows exactly what she’s done. “I mean--”

“Do you think that that’s what good girls do?  Using that thing to make yourself feel good when I’m not there to see or touch you?”

“But I didn’t know you were there.”  Nova’s voice is dripping with innocence, but her eyes are anything but-- which sets Harry off even more.

“And you’re saying if you had known, you wouldn’t have done it?”

“Well I didn’t exactly think you wanted to see me.”

Nova’s words tug at Harry’s heart just a bit, and he breaks the act for just a moment.  “You didn’t read my messages?”

Nova frowns.  “What messages?”

And then it makes sense to Harry.  He’d texted her around 2:30, telling her he was sorry, that he missed her and he wanted to talk to her.  When he hadn’t gotten any response, he’d followed up, saying something along the lines of “I’m sorry I’ve been shit at communicating.  I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”  And a third text, “Are you still going to the coffee shop?”

Nova and Harry seem to understand the situation at the same time, because she suddenly gasps.  “Ohhh.  Oh my god.  I turned off my phone.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me anymore after my 900 texts!”

Harry raises his eyebrows, clearly amused, and clicks his tongue.  “Nova, Nova, Nova.”

“I’m sorry!” She says, giggly and excited at the prospect of Harry punishing her.

Truthfully, they both simply chalk it up to a silly misunderstanding. But right now, they’re both in this headspace, this scenario where she’s been bad and he gets to tell her so; and they love it.

“Do you think that’s something a good girl would do?”  His voice is thick and low, and if Harry’s not mistaken he thinks he sees goosebumps rising along her arm.

“Yes,” Nova says, dragging out the ‘S’ with a girlish grin.

“You do? Oh. I see.”

Nova’s bottom lip tucks itself between her teeth before she changes her mind and puckers up for a kiss.  Harry laughs, poking at her cupid’s bow.  “Ohh,” he coos.  “You’re adorable.”

“I’m sorry?”  She isn’t really, and the smile on her face makes that very apparent.

Harry looks down at her, his demeanor both condescending and empowering.  “You’re not,” he says.  He leans down and presses the gentlest kiss to her lips, pulling away only briefly with a smile.  “But you will be.”

They continue to kiss for a while, and Harry can feel a pulsing in between his legs.  They grab for one another, tugging at hair, tugging at clothes.  They engage in a sort of wrestling match just to see how close they can possibly get to one another with their clothes still on, knocking a few of her throw pillows onto the ground in the process. When they find themselves beginning to undress one another, Harry has to remind himself of the game they’re playing lest he get too carried away with her.

“Where’s the toy?”

Nova blinks at him, taking a moment to register the words coming out of his mouth.  Her hands, which were working on getting his pants unbuttoned, freeze mid-action.  She speaks almost breathlessly.  “The-- what?”

“The vibrator, Nova.  Where is it?”

Instantly, Nova’s cheeks grow hot.  Her fingers gently pull away from his trousers and rest, nervously clasped, on her lap.  “Oh.  Under the bed.”  She cracks her knuckles, leaning forward a bit.

“And you’re going to be a good girl and get it for me, aren’t you?”  Harry’s smirk is teasing, and Nova doesn’t even know how to respond.  It suddenly feels as though her brain is running a million miles behind Harry’s, and he nods his head to try and get her attention back before repeating his question.  “Aren’t you, Nova?”

“What? Oh, yes. Shit, yes.”

Nova scrambles out from underneath him and sinks down to her knees beside her bed.  She sticks her arm out, reaching around until she feels the all too familiar object.  Harry’s eyes never leave her, and his hand reaches up to toy with his bottom lip. It’s exciting and embarrassing in the sexiest way, and Nova almost feels silly when she stands back up and presents the toy to him.

It takes everything in Harry not to bust at the seams and tackle her to the bed while he smothers her in kisses right then and there. She’s so bloody adorable, what with her shy smile and the girlish little giggle that escapes her throat when she holds it out to him.  Harry almost breaks his dominant demeanor-- almost-- but he resists the temptation because he knows she’s loving this and he’s got a job to do.

“Ohhh,” he coos, taking it from her hands.  It’s heavier than he’d anticipated, and a lot bigger than he’d imagined it being.  He’s itching to get it on her, but he remains patient.   He smirks.  “So you can follow directions.  What a good girl.”

Nova lets out an almost inaudible giggle, and it makes Harry beam.  “This is a pretty toy, isn’t it, Nova?  Can’t imagine what it’s going to look like between your legs.”

“I’ve imagined you using it on me so many times.”  Nova’s voice is small as she crawls back up onto the bed beside him.

Harry hums through his nose.   “Mm.  I know you have, darling. You think I don’t remember you screaming my name through these walls?”  Nova looks down, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.  Harry can practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.  “You’re a loud little thing aren’t you?”

“Not all the time.”

“Oh no?  Only when you want me to hear then?”  When Nova doesn’t even raise her eyes, much less answer, Harry takes this as his confirmation.  He nods.  “I see.  So you think it’s okay to tease me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”  

Harry’s almost surprised when she answers him. Pleased, but surprised.  “And why is that?”

“Because.”  Nova seems to be coming back to earth, her daze wearing off slowly but surely.  Now she’s smiling a bit, just as confident as ever and ready to put up a bit of a fight.  Just the way Harry likes it.

“Because why?”

“Because you’re easy to rile up.”

Harry raises his eyebrows and cocks his head, a bit surprised at her answer but not giving up his attitude any time soon.  “Am I?  Is that all?”

Nova looks like she’s about to bust, and Harry reaches up to softly coax her bottom lip out from between her teeth because, truth be told, if she bites it any harder, he’s afraid it’ll bleed.  “Nova, is that the only reason?”

“What other reason would I have for teasing you?”

Harry sits up a bit, scooting closer so that his face is mere inches away from hers.  He lowers his voice.  “You know, you may be right.  It may just be that you’re a brat.  A tease. Nothing more.  But do you know what I think?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you want me to be mean to you.”

Nova blinks dumbly, and Harry quickly continues.  “Not mean.  Maybe ‘mean’ was the wrong word.  But you, Nova, are so used to getting your way.  And you’re tired of it.  You love a challenge.  You love pushing the boundaries.  And no one has ever been able to keep up with you.  No one ever tells you no.”

“I mean… I mean, I would never--”

“A woman of many words, I see.” Harry smirks, softening up just the tiniest bit and reaching up to stroke at her cheek.    “Don’t worry, baby.  Not gonna hurt you.  It’s still me.”  He leans in to press the most tender kiss to her lips and lingers there for just a moment before speaking again.  “I am, however, about to wreck the absolute shit out of you.”

Nova giggles again, and the only thing she can manage to do is grab at Harry’s face and kiss him again.  Harry smiles, the hand that’s not holding the toy finding its way to the small of her back to pull her into him.  “I mean,” Harry continues.  “You do deserve it, after all.  And I think you’ll like it.”

She practically squeals, and Harry loves it.  He loves seeing this side of her that he’s only ever caught glimpses of.  She’s submissive and compliant, which is quite different from her otherwise somewhat loud personality outside of the bedroom.  Harry figures its because control seems to be her thing, and this is a place where she can fully let go and not have to worry about it for once.  A place where someone else can take over, and she gets to reap the benefits-- which he’s more than happy to sow.   He knows he could stay here like this for hours, just kissing her and nothing more.  But the cold and heavy object in his hand mixed with the stirring in his jeans reminds him that he really does have a job to do.

So Harry clears his throat, flipping the switch and causing the toy to whir to life.  He grins at her.  “Right.   On your back.”

Nova immediately scrambles to do what she’s told, giddy and a bit overly enthusiastic. She lays back against the pillows and reaches up for Harry, taking the back of his neck in her hands and pulling him down to kiss her.  He laughs at the force behind her pull, breaking character once again.  “Nova,” he says, “baby, take your pants off for me, please.”

Nova puts all of her weight onto her upper back as she lifts her hips up to shimmy out of her pants.  Harry helps her (because he’s still a gentleman for God’s sake) by pulling the bottoms off down her feet.  Her panties are nothing that she’d consider exciting, just a striped cotton pair with lace along the hem that Harry finds incredibly endearing. She reaches to get them off, but Harry touches her hand, stopping her.

“Not yet, love.”

“What…?” Nova tilts her head, confused, but Harry gives her no time for much else.  He presses the vibrator between her legs and smirks at her instant reaction.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you get off that easily, did you?”  He’s watching her with a mix of admiration and smug confidence; a look that says “you shouldn’t have misbehaved, and you have no idea what you’ve got coming to you, but you brought this on yourself.”

“Now then,” he continues, pulling the vibrator away far too quickly for Nova’s liking.  “Give me your hands.”

Nova is almost too quick to obey, offering her hands out to Harry with eager eyes.  “Are you gonna tie me up?”

“No.”  Harry takes both of her wrists in one of his hands and raises her arms till they reach her headboard, which conveniently consists of a few horizontal bars. “You’re going to be a good girl and keep them here so that I don’t have to.”

Nova swallows hard, opening up her hands cautiously and wrapping them around a bar towards the middle.  Harry grins, leaning down to kiss at her nose.  “What a good girl you are,” he coos, before turning the toy back on to its lowest setting with a flick of his thumb.  “Hold them there.”

Harry lowers the toy between her legs once again, keeping his free hand steady on one of her thighs.  He gently pries her legs open a bit more so as to gain better access, and he begins wiggling the vibe ever so gently, up and down, against the crotch of her panties.

Nova’s toes curl instantly while her back arches a bit. Harry grins, applying a bit more pressure.  “S’that feel good, Nova?”

She only replies with a soft hum, and Harry notices her struggling to keep her arms up. His eyes flick up to see her gripping the bar with white knuckles and he smirks.  “Keep them there, love,” he warns.

“I’m… I’m trying,” Nova pants, wiggling a bit.  It’s a bit hard for her to move, considering that Harry has got her pretty well pinned by her thighs.  Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but the hint of her pretty smile neve once leaves her lips.  “It’s hard.  I wanna… wanna touch you!”

Harry lifts his hand off of her thigh for a split second to brush her hair off of her forehead.  “You will soon, darling. Don’t worry.”  He uses his thumb to flick the vibrator up to a higher setting, quickly bringing his free hand down to steady her when she jolts a bit.  He chuckles, regaining his grip on her thigh and using his thumb to stroke the delicate skin on the inside.  “Sensitive thing, aren’t you?”

“Harry-- ohhh.”  Nova bites her lip in concentration, trying her hardest to focus on holding on to the headboard. She is, of course, a good girl.

Harry gradually applies pressure to her panties once more, approaching from a somewhat new angle, and without warning Nova jolts again-- this time tugging on the headboard and hitting her head with a loud bang.

“OW, FUCK.”

Harry removes the vibrator and drops it onto the mattress.  He can’t help the snort that immediately passes through his lips, although he tries to hide the smile that follows.  Nova lets go of the headboard with one hand, then both, and rubs at the spot on her head that has just collided with the headboard. She glances at Harry with confused eyes, and neither of them know whether or not to laugh.  

“Owww,” she repeats after a beat, and then they’re both laughing; breaking character once again.

Harry reaches up to rub at the spot on Nova’s head as well, speaking through giggles.  “Fuck, you okay?  Hit that pretty hard, didn’t you?”

Nova is in a full on giggle fit now.  “My god, OW. I’m gonna have a concussion now.  Fucks sake.”

“Pretty sure that echoed through the entire building.  They’re going to think it was an earthquake.”

“The San Andreas Fault has finally cracked. We are all currently floating off into the sea.  The great blue abyss.  Goodbye world.”

And then it’s just them again.  Harry Styles and Nova Leary, two students who met at a coffee shop like something out of a fanfiction.  Two people who had no idea it was ever possible to feel this much, this quickly.  It scares them-- or at least, it scares him-- but ready or not, here they are.  It’s an unfamiliar certainty that Harry is beginning to adore the feeling of. Harry laughs again, scratching lightly at the place on Nova’s head that he’s almost certain is going to have a bump.  They continue to joke around, and it feels so good.  So natural to be with her in this way.  One minute he’s dominating, authoritative over her while she wiggles beneath him, and the next they’re laughing like best friends, as if she wasn’t just on the brink of orgasm.  Both situations are equally sexy in Harry’s eyes; both go hand in hand with one another and make everything between them that much better.

“How could I have been such an idiot?” Harry’s question is quiet, mostly to himself, but it quiets Nova’s giggles down.  

“What?”

He leans in for a kiss, trailing his hand up her thigh once again.  “You’re so perfect.  Can’t stand it.”

Nova smiles softly into the kiss, one hand reaching up to cup the side of his face.  With her free hand, she reaches down, feeling around until she finds the toy, unattended and still buzzing beside her.

Harry seems to have had the same thought, because when he reaches for the toy he is greeted by her hand.  Their eyes open at the same time, and he smiles-- slipping right back into his dominating style as if he’d never left it.  “I’m not done with this yet, baby.”

Nova relaxes back against the pillows, letting go and giving Harry full authority once again.  Harry gets a good grip on the toy, flicking it up to its highest setting and lifting it back between her legs.  He uses his free hand to reach for one of her own, but instead of bringing it back up to the headboard, he brings it to his own lips.  He presses the softest kiss to her knuckles, mirroring the softness of the vibrator against her core, and he delights in the melodic little hum that drips from her lips almost instantly.  

It’s comfortable then, their fingers interlaced and resting on her tummy while the vibrator massages through her panties.  She wants to take them off-- he knows she does, but he still wants to tease her a bit more.

Harry watches her, fascinated by every face and every noise she makes, and he takes extra special note of all the times she hisses or squeezes at his hand.  

“Harry,” she says, her voice rising in pitch. “Harry… fuck, I’m gonna… I’m about to--”

It’s coming without warning, so to speak, and he only presses a bit harder.  He wants to tease her more, and he’s going to for sure, but he’s so focused on her every move that he’s almost in a trance.  

And then she’s cumming, her whines crescendoing into an all out symphony in his ears.  Her fingers squeeze heavily at his own, while her free hand bunches up the sheets of her duvet.  Her legs kick out as best as they can, what with him practically resting on top of them.  He’s patient as she cums, only letting up on the pressure the slightest bit, and when she seems to be finished he pulls it away.

The silence that follows is thick, especially when Harry flicks the vibrator off.  He lets go of her sweaty hand hand and reaches up to run his own hand through his hair.  She’s blinking dreamily, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath.  Harry watches her expectantly through it all, showing little to no reactions-- even though he wants nothing more than to get his mouth on her and make her cum again.

Nova props herself up on her elbows, still trying to catch her breath.  “Harry,” she breathes.

He only faintly smiles at her, raising his eyebrows slightly and looking like the cockiest little shit.  “Did I say you could do that?”

Her own eyebrows crinkle in confusion.  “Did you... what?”

“Were you supposed to cum yet?”  His voice remains cool and calm, and Nova licks her lips.

“Was I… not supposed to?”

Harry shrugs, his gaze unblinking and challenging. “You tell me.”

“You said…” Nova trails off, scanning his face for anything other than what he’s giving her.  “I thought I was allowed to.”

Harry hums, fingers once again toying with the lace along the hem of her panties.  “Well,” he sighs after a moment,  “I suppose I do owe you one free one. You’ve been good, and I was a prat.”  He tucks his fingers into the side of her panties by her inner thigh, pulling them to the side and ducking his head down to get a better look.  God, she’s fucking soaked.  “Cumming in your panties, though…”  He shakes his head.  “Messy, messy girl.”

“So now what?” Nova asks, her tone impatient.  

“Well,” Harry says, adjusting himself a bit so that he’s sitting up beside her.  “That’s really up to you, darling.”  He nudges her foot with his own, and she seems to become painfully aware of her naked and exposed lower half, because she crosses her legs at the ankle.

Harry smiles, reaching over and patting her leg reassuringly.  “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Please,” she whispers.

“Or,” he says, dragging out the word, nudging her foot with his own again.  “Do you want me to eat you out?”

He speaks so bluntly that Nova’s ears grow ever hotter.  She swallows, admiring his unmatched and unwavering confidence that has her falling apart at the seams.  

Her voice seems soft and dreamlike when she speaks; it doesn’t even feel like she’s talking.  “You know what I really want?”

“Tell me, baby.”  His nails trail lightly up her thigh, an action he’s learned that makes her melt.

“I want to taste you.”  She’s so quiet, Harry isn’t even sure he’s heard her correctly. He halts his movements with his fingers.  

“Say that again?”

“I want your cock in my mouth.”  Its bold, but she tries to keep her face neutral-- something that Harry finds both adorable and sexy.  He’s not sure Nova’s ever said anything to filthy before in her life, and he loves that.  

His cock also loves how bold she’s being.

So Harry nods. “You may have it.  If it’s what you really want.”

Her excitement is unbearably adorable as she hops up and positions herself down at his hips without even answering him.  He wastes no time in pulling his pants off, and the outline of him is deliciously prominent though his boxer briefs.  Nova licks at her lips, reaching for it slowly.  She touches it gently, so gently that Harry feels he could cry.  

“Do not tease me,” he warns.  “Be good.”

Nova grins innocently, stroking him a bit through the thin fabric before reaching up to tug at the waistband.  It’s a bit awkward lowering the tight underpants down his legs, but his cock is so thankful to be free once they’re off.  Nova hums, eyeing it as if it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever seen.

“God.”   Nova wraps her fingers around the base, just above his balls, and gives a gentle tug upwards.  Harry’s toes curl inside of his socks (which he feels a bit self conscious about leaving on now that he thinks about it) and he reaches out, rubbing softly at her chin with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

“Baby,” he says.  He has nothing else to add, but somehow she knows exactly what he means.

“God look at it,” she says, hardly taking her eyes off of him.  He’s huge, much larger than she’d anticipated, and she almost wants to forego the blowjob entirely just to get him inside of her.  But he’s been so, so good to her, and truth be told, she wants to make him feel good as well.

“It’s yours,” he says.  

“Can I put it in my mouth now?”  She looks almost uncertain asking him this, and he smiles.

“It’s yours,” he repeats.

Nova ducks her head, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of him before parting her velvet soft lips and opening her mouth.  She envelopes him in her mouth, working slow--painstakingly slow-- as she lowers herself.  It already feels like heaven, and when Harry feels her tongue brush softly against the vein on the underside of his shaft, he hisses.  “Fuck baby.”

Make no mistake, he is still the dominant one here.  But he is at her mercy, and she’s been good.  His cock is her reward, and she licks at it like it’s a lollipop she’s been waiting for all day.  She gags when the tip of him hits the back of her throat, and it’s all too much for Harry to handle.

Nova looks up at him from under her lashes then, salivating just enough that the corners of her mouth are beginning to glisten.  And it’s so fucking sinful that Harry can’t stop the groan he feels forming at the base of his throat.

She pulls off just enough so that the only thing in her mouth is the head, and she swirls her tongue torturously slow around it.  The noises she’s making are wet and loud, and Harry can’t bear it.  He reaches forward, pausing briefly to scratch gently behind her ear before taking a bit of hair on the back of her head and pushing her down a bit more.

What  she doesn’t fit in her mouth, she works with her hands.  She gives him long teasing strokes, while the other hand gently fondles at his balls and fuck-- he’s in heaven.  She pulls off of him entirely with a slow, teasing smile before pressing a wet kiss to the underside of the head.  The shaft.  The base.  And then-- as if he wasn’t already seeing stars-- his balls.

Nova’s lips part briefly and she sucks lightly at one of them-- taking it partly into her mouth.  “Oh fuck,” he says,  “Holy fuck.”  He sounds almost pitiful, the way he’s cursing and all but whimpering.   She. however, is thoroughly enjoying every second of this, and he can feel her smirking against him.

She pops off of his ball with an audible suction noise, presses a wet little kiss to the other one, and then she’s right back at it, taking him as far into her mouth as she possibly can.  He’s almost painfully hard at this point, and if she continues the way she is now, he knows he doesn’t have much longer.  

His groans are low and deep, and he hisses when she uses her free hand to dig her nails into his thigh to keep him still.  The pinch of her nails mixed with her lips around him sends a shiver up his spine, something that does not go unnoticed by her.  She lifts off of him gently, a string of spit connecting her bottom lip to the head of his cock.  She licks her lips and grins confidently.  “Liked that, did you?”

“Always have had a thing for pain,” Harry admits, matter-of-factly.  He’s never admitted that to anyone, not even past lovers, but somehow he feels more than comfortable sharing that with her.

Nova wiggles her eyebrows.  “Noted.”  Before Harry can get another word out, she’s back on him, sucking as if her life depended on it. It takes him by surprise, and the long, loud, half-grunt half-whine he emits is pathetic.

It goes on like this for a while, Nova’s hands massaging his base and then his thighs while her mouth works its way around the rest of his length.  Harry’s whines and pants becoming more and more desperate and woeful by the minute.  And then, when he gets the all-too familiar bubbling in the pit of his stomach, he knows he’s close.

“Nova.”

She doesn’t hear him as she flattens her tongue and licks straight up the side.  Harry jumps as she approaches the tip. Oh fuck.

“Nova.  Baby.  Hey.”

She doesn’t take her lips off of him, but she does look up at him through half-lidded eyes curtained by her hair, and he shudders.  “C’mere.”

He reaches under her chin to guide her head up a bit, and pauses to catch his breath before speaking.  His accent is even thicker now, and his annunciation has gone to shit.  “Baby, m’close.  If we don’t stop--”

“I want you to cum.”

“In your mouth?”

“In me.”

Harry doesn’t realize he’s staring at her slack-jawed until she giggles and reaches forward to close his mouth with her hand.  “I mean like, use a condom but… I want you to fuck me, Harry.”

He leans forward without thinking, kissing her harshly.  He can taste himself, a sort of heady taste that he finds himself a bit fond of.  When he pulls away, they’re both beaming.  “M’gonna go get the condom then, alright?”

Nova pouts as Harry rises from the bed. “You’re gonna leave me?”

Harry scrambles around the room to find his discarded boxer briefs, and then his pants.  He snorts.  “Two seconds, Nova.  I live next door.”

Nova sighs.  “Fine, but hurry.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he can’t wipe the smile from his face as he disappears from her room.  He feels like he’s blacked out as he makes his way from her apartment to his, and he mumbles curses at himself under his breath when it takes him a little bit to find his condoms.

He’s back at her place as quickly as his feet can take him, and her room feels distinctly warmer than the rest of the building.

Especially because of the vision he sees before him.

She’s completely naked, save for the little gold N necklace that he’s surprised he’s never noticed before.  She’s so beautiful, laying there propped up on her elbows, legs together with one knee bent. When she sees him, she becomes visibly shy— averting her gaze and reaching up to stroke at her hair.

The truth is, it’s been years since Nova has been like this with another person.  She remembers the last time vividly, and although it isn’t particularly unpleasant by any means, it wasn’t spectacular.  Her partner hadn’t made her feel like this.

She hadn’t felt like this with them either.

Her toes curl and uncurl, and she only looks up at him when he starts moving towards her. “You’re an angel, baby.”

Her hand finds it way to her mouth and she takes her knuckle lightly between her teeth as Harry begins undressing.  He knows she’s watching, and that she’s nervous, so he gives her a bit of a show.

Nova giggles when Harry strips off his shirt— Magic Mike style— and tosses it aside.  He’s got quite a few more tattoos than she’d been aware of, including a large butterfly smack dab in the middle of his stomach.  He notices her staring at it as he wiggles his way out of his pants, and he smiles.  “Like it?”

“I do, yeah.  Did it hurt?”

“Closer to the ribs, yeah. But otherwise, no. Kinda tickled actually.”  This time Harry remembers to slip out of his socks, and now the only thing between them is the pair of boxer briefs he’s wearing.

Harry pads over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it and taking her hand.  He kisses her knuckles once, twice, three times, before trailing kisses up her arm.  He kisses her neck, her nose, and finally her lips, and he can feel the heat radiating off of her cheeks.  “You still want this, yeah?”

“More than anything.”  She nods confidently.

Harry smiles, leaning in and kissing her. “Alright.”

It’s all a blur from then on.  They continue kissing while Nova helps him get undressed fully.   She watches him unwrap the condom and helps him roll it down his length, kissing his smile the entire time.   They’re giggly and awkward, as if they’ve never done any of this before, but it feels good.  It’s comfortable.  It’s the way they should be.

Harry lies back comfortably on his back while Nova straddles his waist.  She grins at him, placing both hands on his shoulders and leaning down to kiss him one last time before sinking down fully onto his cock.

They both let out a moan as his hands find their way to her hips, guiding her down.  “Nova,” he murmurs, reaching up to play with her hair while she gets used to the full feeling inside of her.  “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Nova begins rolling her hips gently.  The inside of her is wet and warm, and every single move she makes ignites Harry’s insides.  She’s so wet he can feel it on her inner thighs when they rub against his, and her moans are quick and loud.  She reaches for Harry’s hand in her hair, followed by his other hand on her hip, and she interlaces their fingers, bringing both hands down to pin them up by his head.

She tilts her head, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and leans forward to sponge kisses along his neck.  Harry bucks his hips up into her when her tongue grazes the base of his throat. “Baby, holy fuck.”

Nova lets out a moan that surprises even her; it’s guttural and loud but it’s short, and she temporarily loses her momentum.  Harry assumes its because he’s found her spot; the one that he’s been dreaming about finding, and he’s about to ask her what he did so that he can do it again when she cuts him off.

“I can’t--” She’s nearly yelling now, picking up speed with her hips. “Fuck, I’m going to cum again.”

Harry wants nothing more than to touch her but her hands still have his pinned, and he reckons she doesn’t even realize how tightly she’s squeezing them.  He understands though, as he feels himself close to tipping over the edge.

Still, he is the dominant one here.  And he intends to keep it that way.

Using the strength of his arms, he tugs a bit, shifting their hands and causing her to fall a little further forward.  He lifts his head ever so slightly so that his lips are brushing her ear, and speaks just above a whisper.  “How many times have you imagined this, baby?  Hm?”

She whimpers, her fingers curling half into his and half into the sheets beneath them.  “God--FUCK-- so many times.”

“How many times did you imagine me like this?”  He allows his tongue to peek between his lips, alternating between kissing and licking up her neck.  He’s exhausted and just on the brink of orgasm, but he wants this to last and whatever he’s doing is clearly working.  So with every ounce of strength he has, he intensifies his thrusting.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you, darlin,” he continues.  “No idea how many times I fantasized about how fucking filthy your mouth is while you’re cumming.  Next time--” he lowers his voice further, surprising even himself with how thick his accent has become,  “Next time I want to eat that pussy of yours.  Think you’d like that?”

He pauses his words, drinking in the sound of skin slapping skin and the feeling of her wetness against him.  He looks up at her with that cocky, challenging little smile once again.  “God baby, I knew I made you wet, but not this wet.  Look how messy you’ve got me.”

Nova glances down to the place where their bodies meet, and somehow ends up shifting a bit in the process.  Harry’s prick grazes against her g-spot once again and she shudders, halting her movements for a brief moment to let out a whine before regaining her composure and rolling her hips.  “More, Harry.  Please.”

His chest is covered in a sheen of sweat, and Nova is so physically close to him that he can feel her nipples brushing against it every now and then.  He grunts when she lowers herself particularly fast, and he knows he’s got little to no time left.  “My pretty girl likes it when I talk dirty to her?”

“Harry…. Fuck… I--”

“Christ,” he pants, squeezing at her hands.  She jolts forward a little, the ends of her hair brushing against his face.  “Look at you.  You’re better than any fucking fantasy I could have ever dreamed up you know that?  Look how desperate you are to cum.  What a good girl.”

He’s thrusting up into her faster than ever, and he can tell she’s getting exhausted.  So with a grunt, he uses all of his strength to sit up-- to the best of his abilities.  Nova catches on to what he’s trying to do and halts her movements, scooching back ever so slightly to allow him room.  He sits up against the headboard and she collapses into him almost instantly, burying her head in his neck and allowing him to take the lead for a bit.

His hands grab hold of her hips and he guides her.  He turns his head to press his lips to her ear.  He’s close, and he knows she is too, but in no way is he going to half-ass this.  “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.   That’s it.  Are you going to be good and cum on my cock?”

Nova gets the same surge of energy and motivation to finish strong that Harry does, because she’s taking his thrusts and rolling along with them with all of her might.  “Yes… yes!”

Harry’s low-bellied grunts escape his mouth faster and faster as he feels himself begin to tip over.  Nova is all but sobbing against him, practically babbling out his praises.  All he can focus on is how good his cock feels, how close he’s getting, and how now there’s a slight charlie-horse in the arch of his foot from how hard he’s been curling his toes.

And then he feels it.

The white hot silence that comes with the ringing in his ears. The pulsing of Nova’s walls as she unravels around his cock.  Her pleas and her praises fall on deaf ears, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart in his ears.  Even his own voice sounds distant and foggy as he lets out what can only be defined as a wail.  It feels so fucking good, tears prickle at his eyes.  He has never been this happy, never felt this close to anyone else before in his life. 

-.-.-.-.-.- “There are an infinite amount of outcomes to any given situation on the planet. Everything leads up to something else, ya know? Like, every decision you’ve literally ever made– ever– has lead you to being here right now on this bed at this party. Isn’t that insane?”

Harry smiles.  “This is going a bit over my head, Novocaine.”  

“But like, our decisions all lead to something.  So like, maybe we just weren’t making the right decisions.  But then think about it, that day at the coffee shop, literally all of the tables were taken.  Literally.  And then you had made the decision to go there that day, and so did I, and like… you offered me the seat at your table.  And then we talked about science and that’s like, literally my favorite thing.”

“Literally?”  Harry cocks his head with a shit eating grin.

“Shut up, don’t interrupt my rant.  Anyway! The law of attraction is a very real and very rad thing because like, who would’ve thunk that the cute guy that offered me a seat was my neighbor?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry has never considered himself a lucky man by any means.  He isn’t really smart (although he isn’t stupid either, mind you) and the one and only thing he actually thinks he’s good at is his music.  He knows he’s selfish.  He knows he overreacts.  He knows that he’s done a lot of things wrong in his life.  But he’s also knows that he’s destined for extraordinary things.  Extraordinary music taste.  Extraordinary drink making skills.  And an extraordinary love.

Which is why he thanks his goddamn lucky stars, and his idiotic past self.  Because whatever he did, whatever wrong decisions he’d ever made, they led him straight to this girl.  This once in a lifetime, extraordinary person who exploded into his life in the weirdest possible way-- like a supernova.

Nova collapses against him when they’re both finished.  Her breath on his neck comes in short, hot puffs.  Harry’s ears are still ringing loudly but his hands find their way up to her back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin where her bra used to sit.

Neither of them makes any effort to move for the next minute or so.  Neither of them seems to mind.   They hold on to one another tightly, still conjoined, and trying to get their heart rates back down to normal.

After a while though, Harry’s leg starts to cramp. He shuffles a little underneath Nova, trying not to disturb her.  Instead, however, she lifts her head and greets him with a sleepy smile and messy hair.

“You good?”  She asks casually, and Harry chuckles out of pure surprise.

Just like that, in the blink of an eye, she’s right back to her quick-witted self.  “Yeah,” he says, scratching affectionately at the back of her head.  “Yeah, m’good.  You?”

Nova bumps her nose against Harry’s.  “I’m absolutely fantastic.”

They’re giggly and surprisingly chatty for the next few minutes as they slowly pick up their discarded clothes from the floor and put themselves back together.  It’s all so casual, so normal. Nova excuses herself to go pee.  Harry awkwardly looks around for a place to throw his condom until Nova notices he’s carrying it and screams, telling him to throw it in the bathroom trash can.

“But you were in the bathroom!”

“You couldn’t have knocked?!”

“You were peeing!”

“You literally just saw me naked less than 30 seconds ago, you lunatic!”

And then they’re dressed, lying comfortably atop her disheveled duvet with their arms around one another.  Nova curls comfortably into his side, now wearing the black hoodie he’d been in when he’d arrived. They share blissful, soft little kisses, and every so often Harry will nibble at her nose or her neck to make her laugh.

“You know something?”  Nova says, picking up Harry’s hand in her own and playing with his fingers.

“Tell me.”

“You’re like, insanely good at sex.  Literally.”

Harry chokes out a laugh.  “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.  Like, better than I’d imagined.  And I’d imagined it a lot.”

“Mm.”  Harry nods his head, too exhausted to let himself wonder what else she’d imagined about him.  “Well thank you.  You aren’t so bad yourself.”

Nova beams at him, as if surprised.  “You think so?”

“‘Course I think so.  It’s like you were made for me.  It’s like your ass is literally made of gold.”

Nova scowls.  “Seriously?  You had to go and say something stupid like that?”

Harry tries (read: fails) to conceal the smirk on his face.  “What?  It’s true.  Don’t act like you don’t know it.”  

Nova looks back over her shoulder at her own behind and shrugs.  “Mm… I mean, yeah.  It’s a pretty good ass.”

“Speaking of,” Harry says, “my band and I have got another gig next Wednesday.”

It’s Nova’s turn to laugh.  “What does that have to do with my golden ass?”

“Well, I was hoping you would bring said ass to it.”  Nova opens her mouth to say something, but Harry cuts her off.  “I promise, no ridiculous confessions this time.  Nothing dramatic.  Hell, you could even invite your friend Tommy or.. Or Mason…”

“Jason,” Nova corrects.

“Jason.  Yeah.  Invite him.  We can set him up with Clare.”

Nova rolls her eyes.  “You’re cute.  I’m not gonna invite him.  Buuuuut…”  She drops his hand and reaches up to grab his face, tilting his head so that she has easier access to kiss his cheek.  “I will be there.  Promise.”

“Wonderful.”

The silence over the next few minutes is so strangely comforting, that Harry doesn’t notice when he starts drifting to sleep.  He doesn’t even realize he’s only halfway conscious until Nova speaks softly.  “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“You asleep?”

Harry yawns, louder than necessary to make Nova laugh.  “I was about to be.  M’sorry.”

“No, no, I’m sleepy, too.  Can we take a nap?”

Fuck, if Harry didn’t think he loved her before, he surely does now.

“A nap sounds great, actually.”

“Great.”  Nova snuggles down into his side even further, but then sits up so suddenly it startles him.  “Oh! Wait, hang on, do you mind if I play something?  I’ve been listening to it every night to help me sleep and now like, I kinda have a hard time sleeping without it.”

Nova doesn’t wait for Harry to answer (not that his answer would have mattered anyway) before she’s up and padding over to her laptop.  She opens it up, types a few things in, and pulls up a playlist.  She scrolls a bit, making a few clicking noises with her tongue until she finds the song she wants. “Here!”

Harry recognizes the song instantly.  It’s the one he’d sang for her at the last gig.  The one he’d covered for her on the playlist. He’s genuinely surprised as she walks back to the bed and settles into his side once more.

“You listen to this every night?”

“Every night!  It’s good.”

Nova relaxes into him, and Harry’s allows his arms to drape naturally around her. The sound of his own voice  coming from the speakers of her laptop fill the room.

“And you don’t even know, you’re like my wildest dream Held captive in stone, held captive in stone, Wishing you were mine Wishing you were mine…”

“Harry?”  her voice is soft, breaking him from his thoughts.  

“Yes?”

“You know I’m yours right?”

His heart feels like it could burst at her words, and he tightens his grip around her even more.  “Of course.”

“Every decision we’ve ever made has led us to being each other’s.”  She’s sleepy and she’s rambling, but Harry loves it.  “Isn’t that wild?”

Harry sighs, tilting his head down to rest his cheek on the top of her head.  “It is, yeah.”

In under a minute, Nova is out cold.  Harry knows he isn’t far behind, but he wishes he wasn’t.  He wants to stay here like this, feeling her breath on his neck, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, feeling her involuntarily cling to him in her sleep.  But soon he’s out, too, dreaming of the coffee shop where he’s certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he met the love of his life.

------

A/N: Alright first off, let us all just take a collective deep breath now that we’ve gotten through all of that.  Good? Yes? Okay.

HONESTLY, I didn’t expect to feel a little emotional over this story coming to an end, but here we are.  I really loved Hova (as my darling Bee christened them) and bringing Nova to life was some of the most fun I’ve ever had since I started writing. I’m also emotional because, even though it took me close to a year, I finished an entire story with multiple parts, which is something I haven’t done since I was about 16.  I’m so proud of this story, seriously.  And the fact that the plot came from the mind of an anon is even more incredible.  I owe you guys so very much and I’m so so SO thankful that you didn’t give up on me or on this story, even throughout my long writing drought. Thank you for the constant asks, thank you for pushing me to keep writing (even if you didn’t realize that’s what you were doing) and thank you for loving Nova and Harry as much as I do.

A huge thank you to miss @imethiminthemorning, without whom this story would either a) not exist or b) just be complete and absolute shit.  Thank you for constantly listening to me complain about how hard writing is, for popping into my google docs every now and then just to comment encouraging things on everything and watch me type, for putting up with endless typos, for bearing with me every single time I would write and rewrite a scene, for always being down to drink wine and whine, and just for being the most amazing human being on the entire planet. Nova and Harry say thank you for their lives.

Also shout out to @bribe-the-door and @harryfeatgaga for never getting tired of me screaming in the groupchat about all the sneak peeks I was constantly sending them.  You guys are amazing and I genuinely don’t know how I ever survived before we started texting tbh.

I DON’T WANT TO FULLY CLOSE THE DOOR ON HOVA, so feel free to send me questions about them.  I’m sure there will be plenty of blurbs about them in the future.  And who knows, maybe one day we’ll open the door on them again. ;)

IN CONCLUSION: I LOVE YOU GUYS.  THANK YOU FOR READING.  THANK YOU FOR BEING THE BEST.  BE NICE.  BE KIND.

THE END.

[onenerdtwonagas]

Can we get the story of how Orpheus saved Uriah from the venomous naga?

The creature’s body was as black as tar, with scales as slick as oil. It had features far more reptilian than Uriah had seen on Orpheus or Kenneth, or any other naga he’d ever met. It looked like something from a primordial nightmare. The guttural voice it spoke with didn’t make the experience any better.

“You are precious to the demigod,” it growled. “When he comes, we can bargain with you.”

Uriah recoiled against the cavern wall as a lanky hand extended its claws, taunting him by dragging one down the side of his face.

“Or perhapsss,” the beast hissed, “my pack and I can simply eat you.”

The plant fiber ropes felt even tighter and more constricting. Uriah swallowed thickly as the creature bared it’s fangs, staring into his face with pitch-black eyes.

“I wonder what would be sweeter: your blood, or his sssubmission…”

“Get…g-get away from me!”

A deep, ugly laugh reverberated off of the cavern walls.

“Prey that struggles is always more entertaining. I wonder what made him choose you for a plaything, when he could have devoured you instead.”

“Hra’khal.”

A second decrepit naga slid in to view at the cave’s mouth, just as dark and frightening. It bore its teeth in a malicious grin.

“He approachesss.”

Uriah’s stomach dropped.

“Orpheus, no—“

A scaly hand clamped over his face, muffling his protests and shoving him back against the stone.

“Quiet, mortal,” Hra’khal snarled. He turned to the guard. “Essscort him in.”

The cavern’s temperature seemed to drop as Orpheus’ figure appeared, flanked by several of the greasy-dark beasts. His eyes were colder than Uriah ever remembered seeing them. Suddenly, breathing felt difficult.

“There he isss, the little demigod, come to answer the Blackscale call.”

“I’ve little patience for your…politics,” Orpheus muttered. “You’ve attacked my family on numerous accounts. The Pantheon knows you are a dangerous breed to deal with. Dare I ask what you brought me out here for?”

Hra’khal smirked.

“I thought you might like your toy back…”

His coils threw Uriah, bound and newly gagged, down to the dirt in front of him. Orpheus instantly tensed, eyes wide as he lunged for Uriah, but several blackscale guards leveled their crude spears at him.

“…For a price,” Hra’khal hissed. His tongue, as inky black as the rest of his being, slipped out between his fangs.

“Your father’s lands for this…thing. A fair bargain for something so precious to you, isn’t it?”

Uriah, terrified as he was, whined through the fibers between his teeth and shook his head furiously. He wouldn’t be the reason Orpheus or his family had to lose some sort of turf war. He didn’t want Orpheus to suffer whatever humiliation would fall to his father’s name if he gave in to a cluster of thugs like these.

Orpheus stared down at him. And then his eyes rose to meet Hra’khal’s. Something about his being shifted. The stars marking his scales seemed to burn, and his eyes did too.

“Return him to me, and I won’t slaughter you and your entire pack.”

“Give me the territories, and you shall have what you asked for.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Orpheus snarled. There was ice in his tone. Uriah didn’t recognize it.

Before any one of them could move, Orpheus let out a roar that deafened Uriah’s ears. He curled up tightly against himself as every dim light in the cavern was snuffed out by an invisible gust. He heard several outbursts, inhuman shrieks and snarls, all in a horrifying cacophony. White-blue flames would occasionally streak across the walls as Orpheus unleashed his nightfire from his claws, tearing through flesh and crunching bone when he could grasp it. Uriah felt something hot splatter across the right side of his face as he tried to bury himself against the soil. He smelled smoke, and rust. So much rust.

Claws grasped the back of his shirt and turned him on to his back. Even with only the flicker of Orpheus’ flames, Uriah could tell it was Hra’khal’s maw opening wide over him. Something in his breath stank of acid and decay.

But the fangs never touched his skin. A flaming hand snatched the pack leader by the throat, throwing him against the dirt before recoiling to hoist him against the wall.

Orpheus spread his own jaws and sank his fangs deep in to Hra’khal’s neck.

Uriah wasn’t sure if he heard the beast’s death scream before Orpheus had torn his vocal cords out, spitting a mouthful of flesh and blood on to the stone. Hra’khal sputtered, gasping in ragged wheezes, before he finally collapsed in a pathetic heap. Orpheus spat a second time to clear the taste from his mouth, and turned towards Uriah.

“Uriah, are you—“

He stopped when he saw how wide Uriah’s eyes were. There was fear there, aimed at him. At the display of alpha male strength and violence he had just put on. Orpheus looked down over himself, his body miraculously unscathed by venemous fangs, but spattered with hot blood. He whispered something, a magic phrase, and nightfire washed over him, cleansing the disgusting filth from his being. His attention turned to Uriah again.

Uriah winced as Orpheus’ claws grazed his cheek, reaching back to unfasten the gag and remove the rest of his bindings. 

“Shh. It’s alright now,” he whispered. “Were you harmed? Bitten?”

“...N-No.”

That was a relief. And yet, it still felt tainted, somehow. Orpheus could feel the nervousness in Uriah’s being, and heard it clearly in his voice. He spared a glance at the cavern, his eyes well-adjusted to the dark, and realized there was one less blackscale than he’d remembered. 

“Come on,” he sighed heavily. “It’s not safe here. They’ll bring another pack soon. I should get you back within my father’s territory, to the temple.” 

---

The silence between them was stifling. Even when they’d gotten to the well-defended safety of the ancient temple Orpheus and his family occupied, neither of them spoke much. Uriah barely even looked up from his hands in his lap as Orpheus sat before him, a warm cloth in his hand to wipe the dried blood from Uriah’s face. About halfway though, the demigod lowered his hand, and let out a long breath.

“I never wanted you to see me that way, or for you to be put at risk. I...I’m so sorry, Uriah.”

Uriah finally looked up to see shame weighing on all of Orpheus’ features. For such a strong, powerful creature, he suddenly looked terribly small, and submissive. Even more shocking was when Orpheus sank to the floor, prostrating himself before Uriah, his forehead touching the stone just in front of him.

“I should have been able to prevent this. I should have kept you safe. Whatever I need to do to make you forgive me, I’ll do it.”

“Orpheus--H-Hey, don’t...don’t be like that,” Uriah stammered, overwhelmed. “I’m not a...a god or anything...”

“No. You’re more important than that. You’re my lover,” Orpheus insisted. “I need to do right by you.”

Uriah bit his lip. Was this some sort of cultural custom of Orpheus’ sort? He wasn’t sure. There was a lot he didn’t know about naga culture, actually; Kenneth was an outlier, and Orpheus’ family was the only other group he really knew. Maybe... Maybe this was normal for Orpheus, to feel so strongly. It was foreign to him, considering his last relationship had gone so sour, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

And, really, as frightening as the experience had been, he couldn’t say he was angry or upset. Uriah knew he would’ve died if Orpheus hadn’t come for him. That, and he had to remember the laws of these beings were vastly different from human culture. Sometimes there was no room for diplomacy, and Orpheus, as human as his face and hands and voice appeared, was still a predator by nature. Predators defended themselves and their own with brute force; it was just how they were. 

“I’m not mad, Orpheus,” Uriah said softly. He leaned forward, shifting to his knees, and reached out a hand, lightly brushing his fingers through Orpheus’ hair. The naga looked up at him, leaning his face into Uriah’s touch. 

“I could...I could make you forget, if it would make you feel safe again. I have the ability.”

“...No,” Uriah answered, after some hesitation. “I don’t want to forget. I’ll... Well, I’ll learn to cope with it, but... I don’t want to forget the lengths you’d go to for me. If I’m really that important to you--”

“You are,” Orpheus professed, clasping Uriah’s hand in his own and kissing it with reverence. “Ancients, Uriah, if I ever lost you... Especially to those beasts...”

“G-Geez, you’re gonna give me a big head,” Uriah mumbled. His face felt hot. He knew Orpheus loved him, but having a being this powerful, an eventual god, practically beg him for forgiveness felt... Flattering? 

“I trust you to protect me, okay? You’ve never hurt me, not once. To be honest, I think this whole mess was my fault, trekking around a part of the jungle I wasn’t familiar with,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“You...don’t want anything from me?”

“From you?”

“To make up for it,” Orpheus clarified. Again, it was so overwhelmingly flattering that it took Uriah a second to form words. 

“No. I-I don’t need or want anything. Just... Just you. For you and me to be alright.” He hesitated. “You can hug me, though, you big noodle. Could kinda use it.”

For a moment, Orpheus just stared up at him in some sort of amazement. Then he lifted himself from the floor, pulling his glistening tail close and curling it once around Uriah’s waist as he cradled his face in his hands. He knew Uriah was human, and that their customs were different, but to think that he could ask for anything, and yet desire nothing but his presence and comfort... The warmth Uriah had put in his heart sparked pleasantly. His lips pressed to his forehead before he nuzzled against him, his tail sliding up a little further around Uriah’s frame. The man in his arms and coils felt infinitely precious and rare.

“You, Uriah Hoffman, are dearer to me than all the stars.” 

“And uh...maybe there’s a way you can fix my glasses? They got kinda cracked when those things took me.”

Orpheus smiled against his lips, and watched Uriah blush as his tail slipped around his shoulders.

“Anything for you, my love.”

[medea10]

My Review of Fushigi Yugi

[bcwallin]

'Steve Jobs' nailed one crucial detail about how Apple works

Aaron Sorkin may have misunderstood Facebook, rewritten history, and created television moments that welcomed wide derision, but when it comes to Apple, he got it right. Sort of.

Steve Jobs is now five years old, and revisiting it the week after the release of his sophomore directorial effort, The Trial of the Chicago 7, it’s easy to focus on the Sorkinisms — the screenwriter’s oft-mocked, nobody-behaves-like-this quirks — and miss that Sorkin did something remarkable in this movie, because he understood Apple. For the most part.

Before 2017’s Molly’s Game, Sorkin’s scripts were always directed (and edited) by somebody else. Listen to his commentary to Steve Jobs with editor Elliot Graham and you’ll hear Sorkin asking why this scene of his was cut and how about the other one, too? Steve Jobs, directed by Danny Boyle, is a story about fathers — biological, adoptive, figures — failing their children. It’s about righteous indignation and Great Men trying to do Great Things as Ordinary People stand in their way. In other words, it’s a classic Sorkin script.

But then, Michael Fassbender as Steve Jobs (in a performance that goes beyond mere impression) says something like “We’re a computer company; we can’t start late,” and despite Sorkin’s repeated career disdain for the internet, there’s something in that moment that really starts to click.

Steve Jobs is at its best when it’s working through the debate that has been posed as Mac vs. PC, iOS vs. Android, design vs. function, luxury vs. price, and probably a number of other ways: who should technology be designed for and how much control should they have? Steve Wozniak (Seth Rogen) and Steve Jobs have the debate in the movie. Woz insists the Apple II should have as many slots as possible, to let each user take their computer and “jack it up.” Jobs argues it only needs two slots — one for a printer, the other for a modem. While Jobs doesn’t articulate his position as the two duke it out in the hallowed garage (what’s a Steve Jobs movie without a garage scene?), it’s pretty clear that it’s a question of form over function. Wozniak insists that the Apple II is a feat of engineering. Jobs says it’s a painting.

Jobs’ position on end-to-end control in every machine he creates repeats itself throughout the movie, as he repeatedly upsets his team with his insane particularities. He introduces two over-designed and overpriced computers: the $2,500 Macintosh that “doesn’t do anything” and the NeXT computer, where all the focus went into the black box’s near-90-degree angles, and all the neglect went into its incomplete OS. His head of marketing, Joanna Hoffman (Kate Winslet), snarks at him for designing rectangles with rounded corners. Chrisann Brennan (Katherine Waterston), his ex and the mother of his daughter, mocks his NeXT computer for having to be a perfect cube. His daughter, Lisa (played in that scene by Perla Haney-Jardine) yells that the iMac looks like “Judy Jetson’s Easy-Bake Oven.” His friends, family, and coworkers don’t fully understand what he’s trying to achieve (“I don’t get it,” Chrisann says. “I know,” he drily responds.) as the costs keep going up and the timelines keep slowing down while he tries to build his perfect machines.

But he’s not as insane as he’s made out to be, because when the technology works in that perfectly human, easy-to-understand sort of way (cue the ad line), it just works. Jobs insists on switching his shirt because the floppy disk needs to fit in his shirt pocket. Watch the 1984 launch and listen to the reaction that stunt gets, only surpassed by the cheers as the Macintosh introduces itself, using text-to-speech conversion. That’s how so many of us want technology to feel: slick, cool, easy. Text commands get beaten out by point and click because “that’s not how a person’s mind works.”

Then, there’s the other side. The side that wants to put widgets on screens, install their own keyboards and emulators, maybe use a stylus, and fully customize their own tech experience. The people like Raymond Wong turning a LEGO NES into a functional set or Steve Wozniak playing around with a Nixie tube watch. It’s the kind of stuff that can involve soldering, tinkering, pulling tools out on an airplane (“Excuse me, flight attendant? The man next to me would appear to be detonating a bomb.”), but it’s not the “It just works” philosophy. And it’s not fully controlled by the manufacturer.

In this movie’s portrayal, Jobs clearly cares about creating tools that will inspire creativity. The most resonant and most repeated image in the movie is of Jobs’ daughter (then played by Makenzie Moss) discovering MacPaint and drawing an abstract. He offers a five-year-old the mouse, and as easily as the ads make it seem, she figures out how to use the computer to make a work of art, without being prompted to do it at all. The mouse (stolen from Xerox PARC) becomes a natural extension of the hand, much in the way director Danny Boyle frames one shot with the Macintosh replacing Jobs’ head. And it’s a “bicycle for the mind,” encouraging creativity.

If you come into Steve Jobs detesting the Apple philosophy, Sorkin’s dialogue and Fassbender’s performance likely won’t convince you of anything. The biopic depicts a guy who so deeply believes in making things easy in his way, he wants one of two employees to change their name because they both go by Andy. He’s also the guy who says “the very nature of people is something to be overcome.” But he understands something about the nature of humans. And five years later, it’s great to come back to a biopic that doesn’t just tell stories of his life in order; it pretty much gets his whole thing about making tech for humans.

Originally published on Input

[rorykillmore]

okay the final christmas gift on my list got a little waysided by all the busy-ness of the past week, so this is kind of more of a new years present instead -- for @jigsawapologist! she requested that i write something based on a headcanon i talked about awhile ago (pertaining to jacquelyn being Aggressively Indignant at parent-teacher conferences) so i went ahead and gave that a whirl! a preemptive apology if my asoue writing is a little rusty

so jemi, in spite of 2017 generally sucking, we’ve managed to build new plots and dynamics and (as always) fall into several different kinds of hell (including discourse moms, which was an all-around fantastic experience). i’m always grateful that our friendship entails sharing those experience, because they never fail to enhance my life even when things aren’t so great. i have plenty of faith that the new year will bring us a ton of new chances to do fun creative stuff together just as they have all these years prior, and i know it’s also going to be a year where you’re pursuing some new avenues in life, so i’m wishing you nothing but the best of luck with those!! keep chasing after the stuff you’re passionate about and here’s hoping we don’t fall too deeply into vampire hell,

The life Jacquelyn lives means she’s good at changing, adapting -- a chameleon sort of quality that means she’s been called many different things by many different people.

None of them have ever intimidated her before quite in the way the phrase ‘single mother’ does.

The life Jacquelyn lives means she’s good at changing, adapting -- a chameleon sort of quality that means she’s been called many different things by many different people. 

None of them have ever intimidated her before quite in the way the phrase ‘single mother’ does.

In truth, it isn’t altogether accurate: she’s not Violet’s mother, has never tried to replace her, but the officials in this world don’t see it that way. They all view things through a legal lens, and don’t care much for the particulars. She is Violet’s legal guardian, and she hasn’t paired up with anyone to grapple with the task, so she is a single mother.

She’s had nearly an entire year to get used to it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still rattle her at times. It hasn’t exactly been a year of smooth sailing, after all. Even now there are still bumps in the road, hurdles Jacquelyn isn’t quite sure how to make because she just has no experience with them.

Such as: parent-teacher conferences.

Really, Jacquelyn isn’t sure why they’re even a necessity. If there’d been a problem - not that she’s ever anticipated Violet causing any, she’s always been a good student as far as Jacquelyn knows  - isn’t it the school’s responsibility to contact the guardian and not the other way around? All of this seems sort of arbitrary to her.

On the other hand, she knows that if she made a fuss or deigned not to show up, it’s Violet who would be singled out and faced with the consequences. All in all, taking an hour or so out of her day to avoid that isn’t such an inconvenience.

“You don’t need to do this, you know,” Violet tells her as they approach the school, because in spite of everything, she seems almost embarrassed that Jacquelyn is going out of her way. “Not if you don’t want to. I’m sure there are plenty of children whose guardians simply don’t have time to attend these things.”

“I’ve made time,” Jacquelyn replies with a momentary smile. “Without much hassle at all, really. And it’ll be worthwhile, to hear all the excellent things I’m sure your instructors have to say about you.”

Violet smiles just a little in response, though she aims it more down at her hands than at Jacquelyn herself. 

They enter the school without saying much of anything further, and Jacquelyn is handed a schedule to follow that mirrors Violet’s daily one. Apparently, they’re meant to meet with each of Violet’s teachers in fifteen minute periods -- she supposes this sort of thing is standard.

It goes well enough, at first. Violet’s engineering and math teachers have nothing but enthusiastic things to say about her talent, while her history teacher seems charmed and comments on her thoughtfulness and insight. So by the time they reach the final period on Violet’s schedule (English), Jacquelyn is beginning to decide that really, this hadn’t been so unpleasant.

They sit down with the teacher, a Mr. Hoffman, and he greets them politely enough.  Perhaps eager to get through what is no doubt a slough of parents and guardians (an idea which Jacquelyn can hardly blame him for), he wastes no time getting started, and they don’t do anything to dissuade him.

“I’ve always appreciated the timeliness and diligence of Ms. Baudelaire’s work,” Mr. Hoffman says, looking over the set of notes he left for himself. “Though... it’s worth noting that her grade would be a little higher than it is with more active participation in class.”

Violet nods politely, as if this names sense to her.  “I will... certainly take that into account for next term, Mr. Hoffman.”

It’s not such a huge issue, really, but Jacquelyn snags on it a little. It just -- strikes her as strange, as all. None of the other teachers have commented on Violet’s lack of participation, in fact, her engineering teacher praised her on it broadly.

“Well, I’m sure some children in a classroom setting simply find it a little easier to work privately,” she finds herself saying aloud.

Violet glances at her, and Mr. Hoffman blinks. “True. But when it comes to English as a subject, classroom discussion is just the nature of the beast, I’m afraid.”

She can’t exactly tell him how to run his curriculum, Jacquelyn thinks, so that should be the end of it. Violet doesn’t seem particularly upset, so there’s not much reason for her to make a fuss. 

Still, another thought strikes her, and she finds that for whatever reason she suddenly isn’t very good at filtering herself.  “Does her grade really need a few extra points?”

“Her marks aren’t... bad, necessarily.” Mr. Hoffman seems to have sensed the need to tread cautiously. Jacquelyn isn’t sure whether or not she should be embarrassed. “But they also aren’t as high as might be ideal for a student like her.”

Why does he get to decide what’s ideal for Violet, Jacquelyn thinks, irritated by what feels to her too much like criticism.  

“In this class we focus on literary analysis pretty heavily, and the material that Ms. Baudelaire turns in is a little... barebones,” Mr. Hoffman tries to clarify. Out of the corner of her eye, Jacquelyn catches Violet glancing briefly down at her hands again, and she frowns more openly.

“Literary analysis isn’t everyone’s strong suit.”

“Yes, which is why I was suggesting alternate ways for --”

“Shouldn’t you be grading on a less subjective basis to begin with?” Jacquelyn cuts in coolly. She can’t quite articulate what’s come over her -- it isn’t that the teacher is being horrible, but it also suddenly seems to her that he isn’t being fair, and something sharp and protective has risen up within her at the prospect of him speaking this way in front of Violet. Barebones. Really? “I mean -- research projects, tests on actual comprehension of the material, those are all part of your subject too, aren’t they?”

So much for not deciding his curriculum for him.

Mr. Hoffman, for his part, is starting to look somewhere between startled and affronted.  “Well, Ms. Seieszka, I mean really. There’s only a certain percentage that straightforward work like that can account for.”

Straightforward?

She opens her mouth to protest again, but this time, Violet beats her to it.  “That’s quite alright, Mr. Hoffman. I understand.”

Jacquelyn pulls up short. Arguing for Violet’s case is one thing, but talking over her when she’s clearly being diplomatic is quite another.

“My brother inherited most of the literary talent, I’m afraid,” she continues modestly. “It’s never been my strong suit. But I will try to take your advice on the participation grade.”

Mr. Hoffman seems soothed by that, and he nods to her (not unkindly). If nothing else, Jacquelyn supposes, he’s not going to give her a worse grade because he doesn’t like her. “Well, then,” he says. “I think we’ve covered most of our points of relevance. Did either of you have any other questions?”

Jacquelyn shoots Violet a glance, and Violet shakes her head just a fraction.

“No,” Jacquelyn relents, calming some. “That’s all. Thank you for your time.”

He sees them out politely, though she notes that he seems quite relieved to see them (or rather, Jacquelyn in particular) go. A beat of silence lingers between her and Violet as they navigate the high school hallways that lead back to the front entrance. Belatedly, Jacquelyn realizes she probably came on a little strong.

“I didn’t mean to make too much of a scene,” she offers, gingerly apologetic.

“You didn’t, I don’t think.” The look Violet gives her is mildly perplexed. Hesitant. “...But I hope you didn’t think you needed to confront him on my behalf.”

Of course Jacquelyn did, but perhaps admitting it isn’t the most helpful response in this situation.

“So English isn’t your strongest subject,” she says instead. “That doesn’t give him the right to be so dismissive.”

Violet goes quiet for a moment, not in a sullen way, but in the way she sometimes does when Jacquelyn catches her off-guard. “I suppose not. But isn’t offering feedback what these conferences are for?”

“So I’m told.” Jacquelyn nearly leaves it at that, and then -- “But the way he phrases said feedback could use some work, if he wants to avoid confrontation. And he seems like the type.”

Violet’s lips twitch momentarily, and they fall into silence once again -- this time, it’s a little more comfortable.

“Thank you,” Violet says finally and a little more carefully as they exit the school.

Jacquelyn doesn’t mean to hesitate, but it trips her up a little. “For?”

She gets a long, level look in reply, and for all her uncertainty when it comes to... all of this, she thinks she might understand what Violet means.

With nothing more needing to be said, they go home.

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 41 - FLA - Nope!

I had a wicked narrative setup for this one. Linus Ullmark gets the start, he shuts down the Florida Panthers after a weak stretch for the team and Carter Hutton and begins his coup to take over the starting role ahead of schedule! It’s not that Ullmark didn’t have a great game, it’s an open question which goalie gets the nod for Boston on Saturday (more on that later), but this game was much more a matter of the losers of three straight Buffalo Sabres squeezing out a W by the skin on their teeth. The last two or three minutes of this game could be described from a Sabres perspective as nope nope nope nope! I got to see this one in the flesh and as refreshing as it is to hear the building really into every zone clearance and icing these days it is quite something to hear it pissed as well. This game had some refereeing turns that could’ve decided the game but luckily Jeff Skinner had a night and yea, secondary scoring did kind of show up and what do you know, there’s your first win in eight games against the Panthers.  The road there was hard with the monster-sized pothole in the middle of that road being Roberto Luongo.

The Sabres remembered the sting of the two losses against this Florida team and the game began with some aggression. The home team would only just outshoot the Panthers in the first period but for the first time I can think of since maybe the Thanksgiving Eve game against Philadelphia, Buffalo’s best period was the first one. It was one of those net-crashing plays Buffalo has come to really profit from when Jeff Skinner got the puck and skated further into the crowd of red striped jerseys and got the shot away just as he lost his footing. It was a goal and Rick Jeanneret predicted it would be on the highlight reels across North America so keep an eye on that one. Tage Thompson’s line got a turnover in the neutral zone a few minutes later and streamed right back into the O-Zone. Thompson took the puck through the right circle and shot it around the defender Yandle and the screened goalie. The Sabres were up 2-0 before even the halfway point of this first period.  The Panthers response opportunities came but Ullmark stood tall and Luongo looked very human as that was the way the first frame ended.

Jack Eichel was out in this game. He’ll be out again Saturday to be re-evaluated next week according to Phil Housley. It’s unfair to Evan Rodrigues but the media including the team media itself kind of made E-Rod out to be the replacement centering Skinner and Reinhart on that first line. E-Rod did fine with his chance but the second period altogether showed just what Jack Eichel means to this team. The Sabres got pretty sloppy in the middle period, just holding off the Panthers for most of the period. Then Rasmus Dahlin got knocked down way back in the Panthers D-zone before Frank Vatrano and Jayce Hawryluk got in on Ullmark with only Marco Scandella in the way. You can imagine how that two-on-one turned out and the visitors got on the board. The indignation in the building was loud because of that Dahlin knock down. The period just did not go Buffalo’s way as Thompson got penalized for a very soft call for tripping and Okposo goal got called back because he was pushed into Luongo as he was already falling. I don’t care to litigate all the crowd-upsetting calls because calls or not this second period was not Buffalo’s period. But hey, the Sabres are normally fantastic in the third, right? Oh… uh about that… well it wasn’t a disaster, as the third period got under way and quickly the Sabres got something out of it.

A Lawrence Pilut shot from way out at the blue line was redirected in front my Sam Reinhart into the net: 3-1 and the two goal lead is back. This period, not unlike the first, was remarkably even in opportunities. The Panthers took a page from the Sabres book here and crashed the net with the man advantage and Mike Hoffman got the goal over a sprawling Ullmark at 12:15 into the final frame. I think this was the goal that really ended my Ullmark Coup narrative because at this point that lack of a save set Florida up for a comeback in the last eight minutes. Florida poured it on for a hot minute before Jeff Skinner went in unassisted and shot a goal that bounced through Luongo and embarrassed him so hard he laid back on the ice like we Sabres are his torturers! I’ll admit that was a little satisfying knowing what he’s done to this team over the years. I’ll tell you that was supposed to be the insurance goal to bag this game but nope nope nope nope, the Sabres had to fight off a Florida team that was not ready to go out into the cold January air just yet in a frantic final few minutes. Luongo got pulled; empty net and Buffalo missed every potential shot on that empty net. Meanwhile Aleksander Barkov reminded us how he is a rising star in this league and quickly becoming a Sabre-Killer of Luongo proportions as he cleaned up a Yandle rebound reaching all the way around the glove of Ullmark to put the visitors within one. Nope, nope, nope! I grabbed my head in agony in the last minute and a half of this game but luckily for my wife I would not go home grumpy about this one. It ended 4-3 Buffalo. It was barely a win but a win the Sabres really needed at the moment and against a team like Florida who’s really shown you what for in the prior meetings.

As sweet as a Sabres win against the Panthers feels right now, it only stops the bleeding right now, and only just. Both the Bruins and the Islanders played last night as well and got their two points each as well, even Montreal got a win to keep the wildcard race in the east same as it was the night before. The Sabres enter Boston Saturday night without their Boston-born and performing Captain needing a W there as well to make headway against the tightening middle pack of the East standings. It’s the last matchup between the Atlantic Division teams and it would be pretty fun for the season series to end 2-2 considering how both teams have fared this season; also its Boston so come on, kick their asses! After that there are six games before the bye-week including a three-game trip through Western Canada. Then it’s the stretch run for the last two months of the season.

I talked a fair amount about what this season has been and what it means in my Midseason Thoughts post. That’s the last one before this blog post and if you just can’t get enough of New Look Sabres I recommend that as well. If you just can’t get enough of New Look Sabres I would also appreciate it if you dropped a like, comment and shared this around where you can. The Buffalo Sabres are undefeated in 2019, what a year!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. The World Juniors Tournament is proving fun for Buffalo rooting interests as the Finnish team offed eternal-favorites Canada with the help of Sabres goalie prospect Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen (UPL for short) and Oskari Laaskonen.  Matej Pekar and Mattias Samuelsson aren’t doing too bad either for the Czechs and Americans respectively.

[erickmalpicaflores]

Erik Malpica Flores Erik Malpica Flores recommends: SUITS Midseason Finale Recap: Litt Comes At You Fast |

The SUITS midseason finale wrapped up the Great Name Parter Battle of 2018. But wait! There’s more! As the result of Alex Williams’ and Samantha Wheeler’s final showdown — at least for now — Zane Specter Litt experienced yet another major change. Remember when Robert Zane and Harvey Specter weren’t sure who would be managing partner of their newly-merged firm; but they were able to agree that, “either way, Litt comes last,” if nothing else? Well. Litt comes at you fast.

Life, much like Litt, comes at you fast. Well, Suitors, here are the facts. First impressions are not always everything; and when I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. Once upon a time, Katherine Heigl appeared to be the wrong choice for a new SUITS cast member; and her character, Samantha Wheeler, seemed more like a nuisance — at best — than one worthy of sharing the spotlight with, much like taking it from, established ones. In “Managing Partner,” though, Heigl’s performance was one of the strongest. And Sam was easily the most interesting part of the SUITS mid-season finale’s central rivalry.

Perhaps it was learning Sam’s real background that did the trick. In the typically strong SUITS flashback fashion, the episode told the story of how Samantha Wheeler and Robert Zane became so close. In the early days, before Rand Kaldor Zane even existed, Samantha and Robert became allies in finding out what kind of dirty dealing was being done at Jarvis & Other Lawyers Whose Names We’ve Already Forgotten. An FBI agent had blackmailed Sam into investigating money laundering at the firm; seemingly, Robert just had a feeling something was wrong and wanted to get to the bottom of it.

As it turned out, Robert had already learned about the money laundering six months earlier — something Sam found out when her share of the searching for “something shady” didn’t pan out — and had been paid a significant bonus to make him look complicit. Robert didn’t want anything to do with the money, so he gave it to charity; but a younger, less-used-to-the-game Sam was upset that he hadn’t gone to the authorities. It was when Zane appealed to Sam’s humanity by mentioning that he wanted to protect his daughter, who wanted to be a lawyer one day, that she decided not to report her findings to the FBI. Instead, the two lawyers worked out a way to keep Zane’s name from being dirtied by his partners’ bad decisions, and it involved the birth of Rand Kaldor Zane.

When Tom, the FBI agent, asked Sam why it wasn’t her name on the wall, she said it was because it wasn’t her time yet — but it would be one day. And this is where Ms. Wheeler becomes such a very, very compelling character. Her thanks for keeping Robert (and, by extension, Rachel) safe was to wait around for 12 years for her time to come. During those 12 years, she was Robert’s righthand woman and, apparently, used her talents to his and his clients’ advantage — even if it meant delving into slightly unethical territory. Robert then used that unethical territory as his excuse for not promoting her.

Fast forward to the present day, when Sam felt that she was finally going to get what she had earned all those years ago…but then there was Harvey’s promise to Alex Williams. That little girl who grew up without knowing who her parents were, who was desperate for a good father figure, was almost victimized by always supporting this person who didn’t seem to have any interest in supporting her. Worse yet, it was in wanting to keep yet another daughter — Gavin Andrews’ — from facing the consequences of her father’s ugly actions that she made the mistake that costs her the solo promotion to name partner that she deserved.

Had this background for SUITS’ eighth season’s big story been in place much sooner, the Rehashed Who’s Name Partner Struggle of 2018 could have been a huge hit. Instead, it narrowly escaped becoming a miss.

Litt comes at you fast. Predictably, Williams v. Wheeler had the potential to destroy the firm, and that left Paulsen to find a way to hold it all together. With the stakes so high, both Zane and Specter proved they were unworthy of being managing partner; so, as is SUITS tradition, it was time to make a leadership change. On top of adding two new name partners — yep! The entire “only one name goes on the wall” drama was for nothing! — the firm had to rearrange the existing ones.

Just as major personal changes had Louis Litt ready to take on less responsibility at work, Donna approached him about becoming Insert Firm Name Here’s latest boss. Litt was the only person who had cared enough about the firm to ask other key players (like one Katrina Bennett) not to get involved, and he was even willing to step down and remove his name from the wall in order to make room for the two new ones. It was precisely this willingness to minimize damage and put the firm first, no matter the personal cost, that convinced Donna that Louis was the only person capable of being the adult in the office.

After consulting with Sheila, which was only fair given the couple’s disagreement over whether she should accept a new job title, Louis was ready to seize his rightful seat on the Iron Throne at the head of the table. After Donna had already set him up, all he had to do was swoop in at the right time and say the right things; but as we learned later when Donna and Harvey did their obligatory “let’s confuse the viewers” thing, Donna was the one who had given Louis pointers on exactly what to say and how to say it. So, Litt may officially be the managing parter, but we all know who really runs the show here.

Let’s just call it The Paulsen Firm and get it over with. It has a nice ring to it, anyway.

Thoughts!

“We know that you’ve served your country once before. It’s the chance to serve it again.” Ok, what now? I’m going to need to know more about this.

“Are you saying you’re the new managing partner?” I have never seen the man so smitten.

“Because I don’t mind defending criminals, but I didn’t put myself through law school to work for them.” Two interesting points here: First, ohhhhhh, the irony of working for/with Harvey Specter and Louis Litt, who had broken the law by keeping a fraud at their firm. Second, did 12 Years Ago Robert not realize that defending criminals was…working for them? Interesting.

Donna reminded Louis that his baby will be here in nine months, so I guess that means we’ll need a new-new-new-new-new-new-new-new managing partner sooner rather than later. Her name should be Donna Paulsen, by the way.

Imagine ruining someone’s moral compass in order to make sure that your own shady behavior wouldn’t make it difficult for your daughter to become a lawyer, only to have her fall in love with Mike Ross.

Side note: I miss Rachel Zane.

“I’m not a leader. They won’t follow me.” Raise your hand if your heart hurts.

“Because it’s what insurance companies do: They blame someone else; they call it an act of God. Or, they just say, ‘screw you, come and get it.’” Find the lie. Spoiler: There isn’t one.

“What is it going to take for you to get off the sidelines?” The delivery. Being wrong about Heigl never felt so good.

“Your daughter. I helped you because I would’ve given anything to have someone like you looking out for me, and I didn’t want to take it away from her.” Sam is now a part of a firm that’s a family above all else. It’s what she deserves.

Louis and Harvey hugged. I’m fine.

Alex was willing to put Katrina at risk by having her essentially impersonate Samantha, but he wasn’t willing to let Gavin McJerkface take his burn book on Sam to the Bar. That’s…interesting, to say the least.

For once, Sheila was right. There is no reason why having a child means she should turn down a major promotion. This whole, “how do you have it all” thing that we always ask women? And the constant personal versus professional struggle? It’s tired. Unless we’re going to ask men the same questions and write our male characters as giving up their dreams in order to have families, we need to stop doing it with women.

Sheila was so early into her pregnancy that she didn’t have even a suspicion about it, but then she was immediately able to blame her fight with Louis on “hormones.” Sure, SUITS. That’s exactly how women’s bodies work. Next, we’ll find out that Donna only kissed Harvey that one time because she had PMS or something equally as stupid.

“It means they beat us at our own game, Samantha — whether we like it or not. But do you know what that means? We are surrounded by some badass people. So, let’s stop fighting in here and start fighting everyone else out there.” We. Love. This.

“They’re either both going to accept this, or they’re both going to walk the fuck out the door. Because I am sick of this shit. And I’ll tell you something else: You two are going to goddamn sell it to them.” Rick Hoffman is a gem. Also, in case no one was already aware of this: I, too, was sick of this shit.

“Come on, Pretty.” Was grabbing his arm necessary? What about walking so close together that they may as well have been holding hands? Why is this happening? Can’t wait for it to be completely ignored in SUITS 8.5!

SUITS returns to USA in 2019 with the eighth season’s final six episodes.

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[alifeenrouteblog]

i'm a mess and that's okay

Most of my writing is very honest and vulnerable but a lot of it revolves around me forgiving others. Sometimes for what people have taught me to believe about myself. Or sometimes about how someone treated me. These are important moments for anyone to come to because we have all been hurt by others and acknowledging this is important way to heal.

Sometimes we need to acknowledge how we have hurt others and forgive ourselves.

Last week was especially hard for me. I have been unusually anxious since coming back from Europe. The trip was very fun but not as cathartic as my trips in the past. Traveling with family can be really stressful for me. My brother handles it a lot better than I do but I get very frustrated with how my mom plans and makes decisions. It can be chaotic and often leads to passive aggression on my mom’s part and fighting on my part. The trip was great in a lot of ways but really stressful. The six months up to the trip I've been getting along really well with my mom but I felt like the trip brought up a lot of old shit. I came back from the trip with a lot more anxiety and tension than what I left with.

Coming back also sucked because I didn’t feel ready to leave Europe. I could have stayed longer. I also knew that my arrival in the US would mean that I’d been unemployed for 6 weeks and I’d have to start making some decisions about my next steps soon. But I’m just as confused about what I want to do for my “next step” as when I left.

For the last month, I was planning my graduation party, which made me so stressed – inexplicably, because it wasn’t that hard. But it was when I learned about the death of Kate Spade on Tuesday, that I sunk into a deep depression. I was very surprised, as we all were. Her style and designs meant so much to me as a thirteen years old girl. She helped to develop my style. Her designs were bold, colorful, and used glitter unapologetically. They were childlike but also vintage. A blend of east coast prep school, weekend at the Hamptons, southern belle, and many other styles. Her art means a lot to the world. But I was devastated for her family and friends, especially her young daughter.

I’ve had this kind of celebrity-passing-depression before. When Philip Seymour Hoffman died. Or Harris Wittels. And what it mostly looks like is having a couple glasses of wine and going on a google deep dive to learn everything I can about them. Mostly I am looking for “the why”. I suspect that I’m looking for a reason because I’m always deeply terrified/fascinated that this could be my story too.

I never saw Anthony Bourdain’s television show, but it was clear that I was alone in that when his death announced on Friday morning. The whole social media world was mourning. And of course, just like Kate Spade, his suicide brought a lot of people to discuss mental health, depression, and suicide. I read a lot of beautiful, poignant posts from people describing their battles.

All of this was building in me. And it was right under the surface the week of my graduation party. The day before the party, I had to meet my parents for drinks. Just the three of us. Neither of my step parents could make it to Cleveland. I honestly cannot remember the last time it was just the three of us. Probably ten to fifteen years. Maybe more. I was so anxious. So I drank. And drank a lot. They got along just fine, but that was almost worse for me. Hearing them bond over 20-year-old stories of when they were married and I was a kid made me anxious.

 I ended up having a meltdown at the bar. Crying in front of everyone. And getting into fights with both parents separately. I had been holding on to some things that my mom said and did in Ireland that made me upset. I confronted her about it, which of course I did poorly and made her very upset. I did the same with my dad about some things I had been holding on to for years, which I delivered even worse. Thankfully, my dad just said “Let’s call it a night”. And we left.

The next day, my brother arrived. The party went well. Blah blah.

What’s my point?

I fucked up. I should have never held on to that anger from my mom. I had the choice to talk about it with her weeks ago or I needed to let it go. But I chose not to. I let it colonize in me. Sprawling out. That’s not my mom’s fault. Same with my dad. I know my parent’s well enough by now to know that having a drunk public blow up is not effective.

My mom expressed some concern a few days later. She often thinks that I’m not really happy because I cry a lot and I’m often anxious/depressed. It’s hard to convince her that I am. It’s nearly impossible when I have public meltdowns. I told her someone like me, with a history of depression, anxiety, sexual abuse, is never really out of the woods, but I am okay. I explained that it was an unusually hard week for me and I fucked up and I apologized.

Healing is not a linear process. If anyone promises you that it is, they have not started the process of healing. But you can have tools that help you in rough times.

1)    When my anxiety is piling up, I might have a “slip up”. I might regress to behaviors I normally don’t do or issues I am at peace with most days. And I can prevent this type of slip if I don’t put myself in a vulnerable situation like drinking heavily with my parents.

2)    I need to figure out a way to let something settle. I hate the advice “let it go” because that’s what I was told all of the time when I was upset as a kid. I think we should feel our feelings and deal with shit. But I do know that my mom is not going to change. I know that by now. Being upset about things she did and said on our vacation only hurts me. Talking to her about it does not help the situation, so it is on me to find a way to make peace with it, or let it settle.

3)    I am not my mistakes, fuck-ups, drinking, anxiety, or depression. I am my love. I am embarrassed about some of my behavior over the weekend. But I am not going to let it shame me or define me. Because I don’t think we can ever stop making a mistake by shaming ourselves out of it. Some of you might disagree, but I don’t believe that I’m a bad person for getting drunk, yelling at my parents, and crying in public. I did not do a great thing. I don’t want to do it again. But I am so much more than that thing. I am loved by so many. And I love so many. I tell everyone in my life I love them constantly. I accept my mess because my love for others will long outlast my physical body and at the end of my life my mess won’t matter; only my love will.

[trulymadlysydney]

I always associate you with TBND! 🥰

YAY ugh rip I miss that story so much

But okay, so there’s a deleted scene that I’m actually so glad I took out because it read like a cheesy ass Hallmark Christmas movie lmao

You know in part five, when she gets caught not listening in Dr. Hoffman’s class, and then decides she needs to go talk to Rick? Originally I had her stay after the class and talk to Dr. Hoffman for a bit.  It was really sweet, and I’m going to include it below the cut, but yeah.  Ultimately it felt way too cheesy and to me I thought it dragged the story on for two long, so I ended up cutting it! 

 “Miss Leary,” he says, in a voice that, to Nova’s detriment, indicates absolutely nothing.  Is he angry with her?  Is he going to talk to her about their assignment?  Does he know she’s struggling?

He clears his throat, stopping only a few feet away from her as the last of the students file out of the room.  “Miss Leary,” he repeats, lowering his voice quite a bit.  “I don’t mean to pry, and perhaps it’s none of my business, but I couldn’t help but notice you’ve seemed a bit… preoccupied?  I don’t know if that’s the word I’m looking for.”

Nova nervously cracks her knuckles, trying to remain calm but feeling her face ignite with the fire of a thousand suns.  “That would be a good word, yes.”

Dr. Hoffman smiles softly.  “I see.  Is everything alright?”

Nova swallows, considering her words carefully.  Is everything alright?  Is anything alright?  It isn’t really, and she knows that lying to him would do absolutely no good.  Dr. Hoffman is a smart and very kind man.  A short, older man in his late 50s, early 60s maybe, with a wedding ring he wears faithfully every day.  He wouldn’t hurt a fly, and Nova wants to cry just knowing that he cares enough about her to ask.  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Dr.  Hoffman looks at her from over the top of his glasses, reading her face before speaking slowly and gently.  “I only ask, Nova, because you’re one of my smartest students.  You always speak up and participate with the best questions and counterpoints.  And this week I’ve gotten next to nothing out of you..”

Nova looks down, unable to meet his gaze anymore.  The only words she can offer him are “I’m sorry,” followed by a promise to try harder and a lie that she’s struggling with the current lesson they’ve been on.

Dr. Hoffman smiles knowingly.  “You don’t need to apologize to me.  I get it, believe me.  I just want to make sure you’re still doing alright.”  When Nova doesn’t say anything, he continues, even softer.  “You know, I may just be your professor, but I really do care about you kids a lot.  I worry about you, you know? And  I’m an old man, but I do happen to know a thing or two. And I know for a fact that you aren’t struggling with my material right now.  Especially knowing how well you did in Rick’s class.”  

Nova considers his words very carefully, playing the last few sentences over and over in her head.  This man is so incredibly sweet, and he’s looking at her with the most kind eyes she’s ever seen.   She lets out a sigh.  Maybe she should just tell him what’s going on.

“Dr. Hoffman,” she speaks slowly. “I just… don’t know what to do.  I like this guy--”

He nods understandingly.  “Happens to the best of us.”

“And… I messed up.  A lot.  But I don’t know if I messed up enough to like, warrant how upset I am.  Or how upset he is.  Or if he’s even upset anymore.  He… “  She sighs again.  “He tried to tell me how he felt in a super public way, and I didn’t hear him and now he’s upset.  And this is so stupid.  It’s literally SO stupid, like I shouldn’t be this upset, but I can’t help it. And now it’s interrupting my class time? Like why on earth am I letting my thoughts about a stupid boy get in the way of school? And also, it’s a fairly new relationship.  In fact, I’m not even sure you could call it a relationship just yet, although it probably would be official by now if I had only paid attention.  But god, how could I have known, you know?  I didn’t know he’d had that plan! And now I just feel like… like…”  She groans.  “Dr. Hoffman, I really, really like this guy.  Like more than I’ve ever liked anybody, and it’s absolutely terrifying that, even in such a short amount of time, I know that I’ve never felt this way before.  But why am I letting it take over my life, you know?  Like, none of this matters that much… but it kind of does…. and I’m a huge idiot and I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

The sympathetic smile never leaves Dr. Hoffman’s face, and he nods understandingly with every sentence pouring out of Nova’s mouth like word vomit.  When she finishes her rant with a long, dramatic groan, he only chuckles.  He lets the weight of her words sink in a bit, nodding his head along as he processes it all.  He tugs at his bottom lip as he thinks, and it annoys Nova how just that simple action reminds her of Harry.  After a few moments, he finally speaks slowly and thoughtfully.

“Well, miss Nova.  I have a few things to say here.”  He removes his glasses, wiping them on the bottom of his shirt. There’s silence as he rubs at the glass, and Nova waits patiently for him to formulate his thoughts.  When he pushes his glasses back up his nose, he turns to walk to his desk and speaks.  “Can I tell you something?”

Nova finds herself following him.  “Of course.”

Dr. Hoffman is smiling still, and he lowers himself down into the plush chair behind his desk with a soft grunt.  He reaches down to play with the wedding band on his finger, not raising his eyes to look at Nova.  He speaks slowly.  “My wife passed away.  Years ago.”

The words hit Nova like a truck, and her mouth falls open.  “Dr. Hoffman… I’m so sorry…”

He nods at her apology.  “We were married 41 years.  She was my best friend, the love of my life.”  He twists the band around his finger and smiles to himself, clearly remembering something.  “But god, could we fight.”  He chuckles softly, finally looking back up at Nova.  “We fought like you wouldn’t believe, I’ll tell you what. That woman drove me up the wall and I did the same to her.  But you know what?”  Nova doesn’t say anything, hanging on his every word and waiting for him to finish.  “We loved even harder than that.”

Nova swallows, nodding her head.  “That’s the best kind of love,” she finds herself saying.

Dr. Hoffman nods.  “That it is, Nova.  And god, do I wish she was still here to drive me crazy.  There are so many things I wish I could tell her.  So many things--”  He trails off for a moment, and Nova is almost worried he could start crying.  Instead, his smile only deepens.  “A lot of things I wish I could apologize for.  A lot of fights over things that were so stupid.  Things that didn’t matter at all.”  

“I understand.”

“Is what you’re going through really all that negative?  Is it worth the stress you’re experiencing? Because if it is, that’s fine.  Sometimes things fall apart and don’t come back together for a reason.”  He leans forward in his seat.  “But I get the feeling that this isn’t one of those things.”

It’s then that Nova spots a framed picture on the desk, and she squints to get a better view of it.  It’s a black and white picture of a much younger Dr. Hoffman with a cheeky grin on his face, and he’s got his arms around a beautiful blonde woman.  The woman’s eyes are closed, and she’s laughing.  They look so beyond happy, so young.  So in love.  

Nova smiles softly.  “It isn’t.”

Dr. Hoffman’s eyes travel to the framed photo, and they both spend a quiet moment observing the picture.  “Sometimes,” he says slowly, “things fall apart so that we realize how important they really are to us.  And they don’t fall back together, because you know, it doesn’t work that way.  It takes time and effort to put something back together; stitch it up, glue it up-- whatever.  And you might even get a few cuts on your hand from the broken pieces, and it might hurt a little but in the end you’ll realize…”

“That it’s worth it.”  Nova finishes his sentence with a smile.

Dr. Hoffman nods his head.  “As your professor,  I say that men are all awful and you should absolutely stay away from him.   Get yourself a cat, see the world, and don’t ever lower your standards for a stupid boy.  Boys smell bad anyway.  Trust me.”  

Nova giggles at his words, feeling at ease for the first time in days.  He smiles as he continues.  “But, as a man, and as someone I hope you could consider a friend, I say don’t let something miniscule get the best of you.  Talk to that boy.”

She feels like crying, really, because he’s right.  Even though he was the last person she thought she would talk to about this.  “Thank you so much, Dr. Hoffman.”

Once again Dr. Hoffman nods his head.  “You can always talk to me about anything, Nova.  I may not know all that much, but I have been known to say some smart things once or twice in my life.”

Nova giggles.  “You helped me more than you know.  Really.  Thank you.”  She turns towards the door to leave.  

“Anytime.”  She smiles at him over his shoulder and is about to exit the room when he calls out.  “Oh and Nova?”

“Yes?”

“You should pop into Rick’s room.  I don’t believe he has a class right now and I’m sure he would love to see you.  Plus I’m sure he could offer you some excellent advice as well-- that doesn’t involve a sob story about his wife.”

Nova laughs again.  “That’s a good idea actually.  I’ll head over there.  Thank you!” 

Dr. Hoffman smiles.  “Take care, Nova.  See you next Tuesday.”