#It's the new year and I thought it'd be a good time to start giving this blog a bit more love again

[in-class-daydreams]

cw. a lil age gap, but everyone is well over 18 (Gojo and Reader are ~40, Yuta is ~30)

Imagine the way ex-husband Gojo's eye twitches seeing how Yuta Okkotsu treats you.

You and Yuta had only seen each other in passing over the years. In fact, you never even officially met until he was several years out of school on the account of your innate technique causing Rika to go haywire. So while there was always a possibility of you seeing someone after the divorce, Satoru would never in his wildest dreams have guessed who it'd be. He'd heard through the grapevine that you only started seeing more of each other last year.

Satoru has to see you at the biweekly joint staff meetings between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools, made especially awkward after not one, but two (2) post-divorce make outs. The last time he kissed you while you were fighting, you shoved him away and booted him out of the house using your technique. Granted, you kissed him back, but you're not exactly on great terms right now.

So, it's bad enough that he has to see you as much as he does. Even worse is now that everything's out in the open, he has to watch you fawn over someone that's not him.

"You're so sweet!" you cry when Yuta surprises you during your lunch break with takeout from your favorite restaurant. "Thank you so much, but you really didn't have to do all this for me."

Yuta places a hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the door to the courtyard. Adjusting the picnic blanket slung over his shoulder, he asks, "Why not?"

"It's so much effort," you reply.

"For you? Nothing feels like much effort," Yuta says with a cheeky grin.

Satoru just catches a glimpse of you covering your face with your hand - as you always do when you blush - and then the two of you are out the door. It takes all his effort not to gag at how cheesy that was. Never mind how genuine Yuta looked about it.

Of course Satoru had taken you out for lunch while you were together. All kinds of lunches. Mom and pop shops, food stands, upscale restaurants, you'd done it all. Your new suitor wasn't doing anything for you that he hadn't done.

Suitor. What was this, the 1800's?

Suguru appears at his side while he stares after you.

"Was that Yuta?" he asks. "I'm impressed. He's supposed to be at a week-long training in Ibaraki."

Ibaraki? The prefecture that's over two hours away? He came all this way to have lunch with you?

Alright, Satoru never did that. Not that he wouldn't have! He totally would've if he'd, you know, thought of it.

Suguru seems oblivious to the emotional bomb he just dropped on his best friend. "I'm starving. Let's hurry up and go eat. I'm good with anything except KFC," he complains.

It takes a couple tries to get his attention, but Satoru eventually pulls himself out of his thoughts. He comforts himself with the notion that Yuta would be gone by the time he returned.

Imagine that while Yuta himself may be absent, his presence damn near haunts ex-husband Gojo to death.

You're already back in the meeting room by the time he and Suguru return from lunch, only you now have a full water bottle (he noticed you pout when you drank the last of it earlier), a sleeve of oreos sticking out of your bag, and a cute travel mug full of some hot drink that you definitely didn't have before.

If Satoru wasn't so preoccupied with insisting to himself that, 'I totally did things like that back in the day!' and provided his ex-wife wasn't the woman in question, he'd be thinking, 'Yuta Okkotsu, I was unfamiliar with your game.'

Even more frustrating is how energetic you look. You have your notes out and are nibbling on an oreo, kicking your feet back and forth as if there's not another two and a half hours left of this meeting.

It's not that Satoru doesn't want you to be happy. Quite the opposite, actually, since he'd gladly give his life if he thought he could guarantee your eternal joy and safety. He's just not sure what Yuta has that he didn't. Or doesn't.

"What does she see in him?" Satoru murmurs to himself later, when a bunch of the staff members go out for drinks. You're at the bar laughing with Yuki and Shoko.

He regrets speaking out loud when Sukuna snorts from behind him.

"How much time do we have?" your coworker says with amusement. He slides into the booth, nursing his sake bomb with ice. It's a travesty of a drink, if you ask Satoru, but to each his own.

"Great, it's my least favorite person," Satoru gripes.

Sukuna seems to take great pleasure in Satoru's misery. "I think Okkotsu's earned himself that title."

Now, Satoru hates the taste of alcohol nor is it ever a good idea for someone constantly using a cursed technique to get drunk, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.

He snatches the drink from Sukuna's hand and downs the whole thing in one go.

Imagine how baffled ex-husband Gojo is when his son delivers a cursed artifact to him instead of you.

"Where's your mom?" he asks.

Sen hands over the small box covered in talismans while his best friend, Nao, lingers by the office door. Rolling his eyes, he says, "We had a mission in the area, so Sukuna-sensei had us deliver this."

"Not what I asked you, kid," Satoru replies, leaning back in his chair. He gestures for the boys to have a seat, but neither move.

Nao, who has a tendency to stir the pot if he thinks it'll be funny, pipes up, "She's on vacation for a week."

Since when did you take vacations? And why hadn't he heard of this?

"What's she doing for a whole week?" he asks.

Nao replies. "Okkotsu finished his training and whisked her away to some onsen in Obanazawa."

Sen smirks. "That snowy place that looks like it's from Spirited Away? How romantic."

"Super romantic." Stir, stir, stir, Nao Zen'in.

Sen was not a fan of anyone trying to get close to his mom. He'd seen how the divorce hurt you, but so far, Yuta worshipped the ground you walked on, so Sen was at least willing to not be too hostile towards him if it meant antagonizing his father.

Sen and his friend quickly say their goodbyes and head out to do whatever it is high school boys do. Once they're gone, Satoru pulls out his phone and searches 'onsen obanazawa.' The results show Ginzan Onsen, a place with traditional Japanese architecture with a beautiful snowy landscape. But according to the reviews, though a wonderful and charming place, it wasn't from the best onsen in Japan. He wants to scoff at the fact that his supposed 'replacement' chose anything but the best for you, but then he sees where Obanazawa is, which is in Yamagata prefecture.

Where you grew up. Where you and Satoru met.

How had it never occurred to him to bring you back there?

When he mopes on Suguru's couch later that evening, he tells his best friend the whole story. Suguru's delicate features are twisted into a grimace the whole way through.

"Why are you making such an ugly face?" Satoru asks miserably.

"I've never been ugly a moment of my life, Satoru."

"You know what I mean."

Suguru sighs and clicks his tongue. "They're not official?"

"So she keeps saying."

Though reluctant to kick his friend while he's down, Suguru decides that Satoru needs to know so he can mentally prepare himself.

"He's taking her on a romantic trip to a beautiful resort in her home prefecture. They may not be official now, but after a trip like that, there's no way she's coming back without a label. Hell, if they were official, she'd most likely be coming back with a ring."

Hearing that, Satoru contemplates finding a nice spot in the cursed artifact archive and falling into a coma for at least the next thousand years.

The plot McThickens

Find the other installments of this AU [here] | Find the #gojo sentaro lore [here] | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[strawberrycartt]

Some Mammons I drew in 2022

[certified-bi]

Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.

1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...

2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.

Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.

3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.

4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.

5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.

Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Truth, Dare, or Punishment ~ Fred Weasley

summary: you bitches asked for dom!Fred and you shall receive. a game of truth or dare in the common room goes south when Mclaggen dares you to kiss him

warnings: possessive dom!Fred, smut, cursing

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

The night had been going splendid so far. Everyone was way too excited after the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrong to go to sleep, and the older Gryffindors decided to get shitfaced as the perfect solution to their restlessness. After all, there was no quidditch this year to justify throwing common room parties, so you guys had to get creative. The new year brought new witches and wizards to corrupt, and so the twins finally let their baby brother Ron and his year join the fun. It been going well, granted Hermione was drunk off her ass, but Harry had been watching over her well enough. You were also past the point of drunk, and you assumed by their faces that the rest of the group were on their way there. At this point in the night, those who were still awake were circled up playing a filthy game of truth or dare. Angelina had gone to do seven minutes in heaven with George, Neville had eaten a puking pastille, and Ron had madeout with Lavender Brown in a disturbing manner. It was time to spin the bottle again to see who would ask the next question. Hermione giggle and leaned into the circle to spin the bottle. Everyone look around with nervous smiles as it spun around and around, before landing on Cormac McLaggen. You cringed. This was possibly the worst person it could've stopped on. Your body had a visceral reaction when your name left his lips.

"Y/N," he smiled drukenly, "Truth or dare?" You rolled your eyes. Oh, great.

"Truth," you said, grabbing your drink and taking a swig. You were going to need it.

"Who did you lose your virginity to?"

You choked on your drink as the rest of the group murmured at the question, Hermione's jaw dropping before a stream of shocked laughs escaped her. You felt Fred tense up beside you. Your mind raced with the memories of this summer at the Burrow.

"Just like that, Y/N. You're doing so good," Fred praised as he thrusted into you, kissing the crook of your neck while he fucked you. He'd been teaching you how kiss, as a friend of course. He had to help out his dear friend Y/N when she confessed how embarrassed she was that she had never kissed anyone. Never done anything with anyone. From there it had escalated. First, you wanted to know learn to give a blowjob, but soon enough Fred thought it'd be best if you knew what these things felt like too. After a while, you both realized you were terribly obsessed with each other, and one night you decided to let him be the one to take your virginity. He was big, and you were nervous, but he was so sweet about it. Even at the beginning when you thought it wouldn't be able to fit, he was reassuring and gentle with you. But that was at the start, and by now he was fully fucking you on your back, your pussy starting the soften around his cock as pleasure began to ripple through your body. You both came together in a heap of sweat and kisses.

"Y/N," McLaggen sung, waiting for your response.

"I'm not answering that," you coughed, still choking on your drink. The group has set up measure to tell if someone was lying, so you couldn't fake still being a virgin. You supposed the question wasn't that out of pocket, but you couldn't answer it. Nobody knew about you and Fred besides George, and you both wanted to keep it that way. Especially from your families.

"Well then, you know the rules," McLaggen tsked teasingly, "you forfeit to dare."

"What? No, I-"

"Those are the rules Y/N," Hermione cringed, unable to stop herself. McLaggen smirked.

"I dare you to kiss me."

You felt nauseous. McLaggen was disgusting, and the last person you'd ever want to kiss. Unfortunately, you'd brought this onto yourself. You should've known he would dare someone to kiss himself. What a weirdo. The circle groaned and laughed in disgust as McLaggen puckered his lips. You cringed and shifted your weight to lean across the circle. Just as you were about to shuffle over to him, Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You looked back at him and saw anything but a smile on his usually cheerful face. He spun the bottle and landed it on himself in a hasty motion, still holding onto your wrist tightly.

"McLaggen, I dare you to stop wearing your fucking Ballycastle Bats tighty whities to every single quidditch practice," Fred sneered before yanking you up with him and pulling you towards his dorm. You heard the group go crazy with laughter behind you and hoped it would cover for the fact that Fred just pulled you away from the party. Hopefully George could cover for you two, he should be done with seven minutes by now. Fred dragged you up the stairs without so much as a look in your direction. Once you reach his dorm, he threw open the door. What was happening?

"Fred-" he smashed his lips into yours and shut the door with your body. You gasped as your back hit to wooden surface, Fred pulling your skirt up while his hand gripped your thigh. He used your lifted leg as leverage to grind down into your hips as he pressed you against the door. Your pussy pulsed when you felt him against you, his hands gripping in all the right places. Wait a minute. When did he start kissing you again?

"Fred," you said quickly, pulling away from his mouth. He tried to kiss you again. "Fred, we just left the party. You just dragged me up here when I was supposed to kiss-"

"Don't even say his name," Fred growled, his breathing heavy and hot as he kept his face inches from yours.

"I'm sorry," you whispered out, unable to speak properly. You'd never seen Fred mad before.

"I'm sorry I dragged you," he softened, ducking his head down to kiss your neck, "but I wasn't going to let somebody else kiss you." With that, he began to attack your neck. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head as his tongue and teeth lapped at your sweet spot. You let out whimpered moans as he worked, his fingers gripping you just right. Rougher than usual.

"Freddie," you moaned, grinding yourself onto his leg. You needed more. This man had hooked, and you'd never been so addicted in your life. He picked you up under your legs and carried you to the bed before placing you down on your back. He stood over you, leaving you panting on the bed as he took off his shirt and undid his belt. His eyes were locked on yours. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, his gaze wouldn't let you. When he finished, he rushed towards you again, kissing you deeply as his hand flipped your skirt up. His tongued rammed itself into your mouth, stifling your moans when his fingers grazed over your clit. You blushed as his fingers masterfully moved your panties aside and dipped into your core. Fred laughed into the kiss as he felt you.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed huskily, "are you ready to take me?" His words had you aching. You nodded up at him bashfully. You wanted him so badly. You had turned into such a slut for his cock. "Good girl." He sat up and flipped you over, pulling your panties down as he took off his own pants. He didn't bother to take off your skirt as he pulled you back onto him. You let out a guttural moan as you felt his length stretching you out.

"Fuck, Freddie," you whined as he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He was going to leave bruises for tomorrow, but you didn't care.

"You're taking it so good, Y/N" Fred groaned, smacking your ass, "you like getting fucked by me? Huh?" He picked up his pace, pounding into you hard. Your moans were bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he waited for your reply.

"Y-yes, Freddie. I love when you fuck me," you whined, feeling you pussy begin to clench around him. His dick twitched at the feeling and groaned. In one motion, he pulled out and spun you onto your back, pulling your shirt up over your tits and pinning your wrists above your head.

"God, you look so fucking pretty. Can't see your beautiful face while I'm behind you," Fred grunted as he thrust back into you. You moaned and threw you head back. You writhed underneath Fred, his hand constraining your wrists. You desperately needed to grasps something. You were reaching the edge.

"Freddie," you cried, unable to say anything except his name. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt your stomach knot up one final time.

"That's it, baby. Come for me." You could feel his eyes on you as you released yourself around his throbbing cock. As the waves of pleasure began to slow, Fred grunted and became sloppy. He released your hands and buried his face into your neck as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you. He laid there for a moment before pushing himself off you and pulling you onto his chest. You couldn't help but giggle a little as he kissed your head and rubbed your shoulder.

"You are so jealous," you teased, looking up to see Fred. He laughed with a sleepy half smiled.

"I'm not jealous," he retorted, pinching your cheek. "I'm just protecting whats mine."

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

[g1rld1ary]

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

[cvsmixnaya]

a lando x desi!reader marriage fic. Omgggv just imagine all the lil functions and tradition it'd be sooo cutee

Mehndi laga ke rakhna

OKAY SO. i did get a request similar to this so im just gonna combine both so i hope yall dont mind!!! the other request i got was basically this but it just mentioned that lando was telling y/n that they’ll get married like this one day and i wanted to include that cause it’s so cute🤭 also the unfortunate truth is that i haven’t been to a lot of weddings. the only wedding i remember very well was my aunt’s wedding from when 10 years ago(i was 9. fuck that’s crazy) but i did my best with this.

Ever since Y/n took Lando to her friend’s wedding. The thought of marrying her never left his mind. All he wanted was to marry her but the way her culture does it. Growing up in India meant a lot of traditions, festivals, wedding events, etc.

When Y/n asked Lando to come with her to her friend’s wedding, he said no at first but after attending all the events, he was mesmerised. He loved every single one of them. The mehndi, the sangeet, the haldi. all of it

The day of the wedding, as both of them watched her friend marry the love of her life, he wrapped his arms around her beautiful lengha whispering

“One day, I’m gonna marry you exactly like this”

She smiled said she couldn’t wait for that day to come. And boy that day came so quickly. With the blessing of her parents, he proposed to her a month or two later and immediately got to work.

Lando basically saw a new side of his fiancée. Full of stress and making sure things were right. Slowly she started to lose her mind cause she had to come up with the guest list, find the venue for all the events and Lando was starting to see how much goes into a desi wedding.

But once all the events took place, it felt magical.

Mehndi

The mehndi event was fine. Y/n was basically sitting in one place for hours getting mehndi (henna) done on her hands and legs. Lando kept coming over to give her company smiling like a child the whole time.

She was wearing a simple kurta that belonged to her mom with a dupata. She saw Lando come up to her and sit next to her careful not to ruin anything

“Hello my lovely bride” He greeted her placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Hi baba. Hogaya tera? (you’re done?)” She asked him and he happily showed off his palm with mehndi on it.

“All done and dried”

She smiled at his little goofy self. They enjoyed each other’s company even though she basically couldn’t move but she leaned into him resting herself as she watched the design come to life on her body.

He loved everything about this. He knew he was gonna love the coming days of this era.

Sangeet

The sangeet was everyone’s favourite cause they get to dance for the couple and her friends had so much planned for them. The drivers invited actually reached out to Y/n’s friends and asked them for help so they could do a dance and that’s exactly what they did.

Everyone was getting drinks, having conversations and when it was time for the performance, they gathered around the floor stage to watch the performances by friends.

Lando and Y/n were sitting at the front while the rest were standing and two of her friends entered with the song “kamariya” playing making her cheer since it was garba dance which she adored so much. The dance was so good and when it was changing to the next song, the rest of her group joined in.

The next dance had the song “kukkad” so the boys and girls were dancing together. The reason they chose this song was cause student of the year was their favourite movie during their childhood (and also because of Sidharth Malhotra).

A few performances later came the best for last. Carlos, Oscar, Max, Charles and George entered the stage making the crowd go crazy. Especially Lando since he gets to see his friends dance to the best item song ever which was “fevicol se”

They boys did great. Y/n was so proud of them she got up with Lando and went to hug them after their dance and everyone joined the floor having the time of their life.

Haldi

Lando and Y/n decided to keep the haldi event small with close friends and family only. The haldi event was basically smearing tumeric/haldi on the bride and groom. It’s normally a day or two before the actual wedding and held it at her house.

Everyone put tumeric all over them. In their hair, skin, clothes. Everywhere. It was a short event but very intimate and fun. So many pictures got taken over the days and many memories were made.

The wedding

the day was finally here. The day Lando and Y/n get married. How were they feeling you ask? nervous as hell. No cold feet. No. They knew they wanted to do this. It just felt too good to be true. They couldn’t believe this was actually happening

Y/n was in the dressing room getting ready for the big day. She wore a beautiful Manish Malhotra Lenhgha and her makeup was stunning. Her mother was helping her get everything together.

“I’m so happy for you baba. Meri bacchi ki shaadi ho rahi hai (my daughter is getting married)”

She said before kissing Y/n’s cheek aggressively making her laugh.

“Love you too mumma. zyada rona matt (don’t cry too much)”

Her mother laughed but just pulled her cheek. After a while, the time came. They entered and Lando was already sitting next to the fire mesmerised by her beauty. She was already so beautiful but seeing her as bride struck something in him.

He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with this woman. As she sat down with him the words immediately left his mouth

“You look so beautiful…”

Y/n blushed. After all these years, he still managed to get her all flustered smiling like a little girl.

“Still know how to make me blush after all these years huh?”

She said teasing him.

The ceremony was beautiful. Both families were crying. Seeing their children get married was something they weren’t ready for but loved it regardless.

The wedding eneded in a few hours and it was magical. It was everything the both of them wanted. Once they headed back, they stepped into the house for the first time as husband and wife.

Lando immediately kissed his wife. Still processing that this woman was now his wife. He pulled away saying

“Welcome home wife” He said booping her nose making her tear up a little out of happiness.

“Welcome home husband” She returned immediately hugging him whispering

“I love you. I can’t wait to spend the remainder of my life with you”

He felt so happy hearing that

“I love you too. I’m so excited to spend my life with you too”

They got the life they wanted and deserved. It was the best time of their life and when all the photos came, they spent a lot of time looking at it and deciding which ones to put up on their wall.

It was a good wedding indeed.

[peachhcs]

moments on the ring

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

going backwards in time from a year in the future to the summer before samy's senior year, the ring camera captures all of the special moments between samy and will.

2.6k words

i was inspired by the tiktoks of couples having cute moments on their ring cameras, so i wrote this. i thought it was so cutie and it's all just scattered moments of samy and will caught on the lakehouse ring camera

au masterlist

ONE (the summer before will moves to california)

the faster july bled into august, the harder it became for samy to ever sleep. the poor girl's mind raced with a hundred thoughts about starting her next chapter: the last half of college. junior year rode in fast and so did her new captaincy for the women's soccer team.

a dream that the girl's had since she stepped onto campus was now becoming a reality in just short of a few weeks. she couldn't be more grateful, but at the same, she was now leading an entire group of girls in hopes of taking home another national title.

if they lost, it was all on her and that terrified the girl.

she curled up on the front porch steps, eyes on the sky trying to find her favorite constellations. whenever she couldn't sleep, the little hughes wandered outside and stared at the stars until someone came and found her.

usually, it'd be her mom. occasionally jack or luke. recently, though, the one person who's never left her side became the one finding the girl by herself in the late hours of the night. mostly because he'd sense her presence missing and sleepily ventured out to find her.

the front door quietly slid open giving samy the indication that someone found her. she waited for them to approach before acknowledging them. gentle hands slipped something across her shoulders making the goosebumps along her arms quickly disappear.

"found you," will's sleepy voice echoed through the stillness.

"hi, baby," samy smiled up at the blonde as he sat down beside her. the pet name earned a small flush across his cheeks while his hand immediately found a place on her knee.

"hi. can't sleep?" the boy wondered trying to wake himself up more despite everything in him wanting to crawl back under the warm covers.

"yeah. thinking too much i think," she curled herself into her boyfriend's side. his body was like a heater as his warmth spread into her, replacing the cool air swirling around her.

"wanna talk about it?"

a bit of hesitation stopped the girl from immediately opening her mouth. she knew will wouldn't ever judge her, but she almost felt..selfish for admitting being nervous for the upcoming season. he sensed her pause, so he ducked his head down to find her gaze.

"talk to me, hughesy," the blonde gave a loving squeeze so she knew he was all ears. her nickname painted a brief smile on her lips.

"i'm gonna be captain this season," samy mumbled like she didn't believe it herself and she almost didn't.

a smile grew across her boyfriend's lips, "i know. i'm so proud of you."

"what if i let everyone down?" the worries finally flew out of her mouth which almost knocked the breath out of her for admitting it aloud.

"what makes you think that?"

"i dunno. i'm scared i can't lead them to a national title again. then what? i let everyone down," samy explained what troubled her—her doubts and fears about everything going wrong under her guidance.

"even if you don't, no one's gonna hate you. this is gonna be a real good season, yeah? you're gonna take them to the finals again, i know it," will encouraged and his words surprisingly made the youngest hughes feel a lot better. he always knew how to do that somehow and samy never knew how he did it.

"it's just such a big deal. i'm scared i'm gonna fuck it all up," the girl laughed in hopes of keeping herself from crying.

"you won't. you're the best soccer player i know. not many people can rebuild the soccer program in their freshman year," will's sappy words made the brunette blush to the tips of her ears. she hid her face in his chest so he didn't see.

"you're so cheesy."

all will did was kiss her forehead in response. he ran soothing circles across her shoulder which definitely helped settle samy's anxiety. he always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was just his presence alone.

"you leave for california in two weeks, right?" she changed the subject for now wanting to direct the attention off of her.

"yup. 13.5 days," will's voice almost sounded sad saying that. samy quickly picked up on the shift in his tone, so she shifted herself so she was looking at him.

"your official rookie year. god, i cant believe it's already here," those two years unknowingly flew by for everyone.

"is it weird i'm scared to start a new life all the way across the country from my best friends," the blonde softly wondered. samy cupped his cheek, running her thumb over his soft skin as he leaned into her touch.

"i think you're gonna do really well in san jose. they picked a good one," it was now samy's turn to be all sappy and cheesy. plus, it was only fair that she was because will did it moments ago.

"promise to come visit me?" the boy searched her gaze, one filled with love and lust. the grip on her knee tightened a bit like she'd disappear if he let go.

"i can't promise it will be during the season, but i'll really try after," they knew samy couldn't leave as freely as she did to boston. with her captaincy, she was needed and expected at every practice. not to mention, flying to california was a lot different than flying an hour to boston for a weekend.

"right. just expect a lot of facetime calls then."

their foreheads connected briefly. samy closed her eyes, letting will's sent fill her body and slowly calm her down to the point where she finally became tired. the blonde hooked his arm around her shoulders, a gentle kiss landing on her soft skin.

"wanna go back inside?" he wondered.

samy just nodded, letting will pull her up and lead them into the house. the hockey player smiled at the ring camera that he almost forgot was there knowing it just picked up every single second of that soft moment.

TWO (the summer after samy and will's first year of college)

jack sure knew how to throw a party. people packed themselves in and out of the house, wall to wall, room to room. the summer house probably hasn't ever been so full before, but jack was determined to celebrate luke making it through his rookie year and with nearly everyone in michigan, it was bound to be a good one.

samy stumbled out onto the front porch with will close behind her as they finally escaped the chaos for a few seconds. their hands were intertwined, fearing they'd lose one another in the crowd if they didn't hold onto each other. the brunette fell against the porch railing, some of her drink dripping onto the wood, a lazy smile on her lips.

"jack so would've made a great frat boy if he went to college," will chuckled, leaning himself against the railing as well.

"trust me, i know. we've told him," samy was extra giggly tonight, especially after having a few shots in her system.

the alcohol her brothers bought for the lakehouse didn't and wouldn't compare to the cheap vodka her and hannah found or begged ethan to get them (he refused most of the time anyway). whatever stuff her brother's liked buzzed through the girl's system like a race car and she became a lot more drunk a lot quicker.

the music was so loud, they could hear it from the porch. jack had old pop songs playing and time of our lives by pitbul started blaring through the speakers. samy gasped, forgetting her cup as she pulled will up to start dancing.

"i know my rent was gonna be late about a week ago," the brunette sang—or more like screamed—while swinging her boyfriend's hands around who just laughed.

"i worked my ass off, but i still can't pay it though," will joined in.

they didn't even care that they were the only ones drunk and dancing on the porch. the moment couldn't have been anymore perfect. the oldie songs brought them back to their childhood where they'd similarly scream along to the lyrics without really knowing what any of it meant.

"ooh, i want the time of my life. oh baby, oohhh," once the chorus hit, will spun samy around. she giggled nonstop while the blonde enjoyed seeing her so happy.

the best part of the song came on a few moments later. will wrapped samy up in his arms, snaking them around her waist.

"this is for everybody going through tough times. believe me, been there, done that. but everyday above ground is a great day, remember that," the two sang the verse together before the blonde pushed his lips to samy's when the chorus began again.

something about the moment was so perfect—just two teenagers enjoying themselves as they celebrated getting through their first year of college and long distance while the entire thing was captured on the oh so infamous ring camera right above the door handle.

THREE (the summer after samy and will's first year of college)

samy's heels clicked against the hardwood as she stepped onto the porch. will followed close behind, lazy and lustful smiles on each of their lips as the girl spun around to face her boyfriend. he immediately snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. 

"thanks for driving me back. you didn't have to, you know," the brunette hummed, reaching her hand up to fix some of his misplaced curls. 

"i know, but it wasn't any problem," the blonde shrugged. 

"it is like 30 minutes out of your way. you have to be up in exactly.." her eyes gazed down at her watch, "five hours." 

will didn't even seem bothered by the fact, "i'll just sleep on the plane. whatever." 

his nonchalantness never failed to amaze the girl. will was due in san jose for a two week summer development camp with a plane to catch in seven hours, yet he was standing on samy's porch past midnight after spending a long night out with her family and then insisted to drive her back to the house before he went to his hotel closer to the airport. 

"you're crazy, you know that?" samy shook her head in amusement. 

"i am for you," will grinned, his cheesy words earning a playful eye roll. 

"god, you're so insufferable sometimes," she cupped the boy's cheeks to pull his face closer to hers, an indication that she wanted a kiss. 

"gonna miss you, pretty girl. two weeks is so long," the blonde hummed. 

"it will fly by. we did four months." 

"the worst four months of my life," being so caught up in hockey and soccer, time to see one another was pretty limited during the school year. 

summer would always be will and samy's favorite months. 

"promise to call you every night," samy beamed making the hockey player smile too. 

"you better. you're sure you can't come with me?" will always did this when one of them were leaving for long periods of time. he was desperate to get samy to follow him everywhere. 

"i wish, but you need to have your moment. one more year before you join the sharks," the girl squeezed his chin. 

"don't remind me." 

with that, samy placed her lips to her boyfriend's. his hands gripped her waist, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped into her mouth. she tasted like strawberries—a taste the boy would never get tired of. it just made him want her even more. 

"you looked so beautiful tonight by the way," will mumbled when they broke apart for some air. 

samy's cheeks reddened, "thanks pretty boy." 

that was will's favorite pet name. he ducked his head back down to reconnect their lips. samy's hands started wandering towards will's curls, pulling gently near the nape of his neck which emitted a small sound from the back of his throat. 

"wanna kiss you forever," his hands started wandering lower until his one hand slipped over her ass in a tight squeeze. 

samy tugged harder at his curls looking for more. their need poured into each other's lips with will tugging the girl closer despite there not being anymore space left between them. 

"you two better get a room," jack's voice instantly broke them apart. 

samy spun around, her gaze zeroing in on the ring where jack just talked from. 

"oh fuck off, jack," the younger girl rolled her eyes. 

"you better be glad i was the one who looked and not dad or some shit. wrap it up before they do see anything. y'all are so gross," jack was most definitely rolling his eyes. 

"fucking idiot," samy mumbled. she turned back to will, her smile quickly returning. 

"see you in two weeks?" 

"i'll see you so soon," will planted one more kiss to her lips before heading back down the porch. he waved to the camera incase jack was still secretly watching. 

once he was back in his car, samy spun on her heel. bending down so she was eye level with the camera, "you're so annoying. i can't wait until i can annoy you and your girlfriend." 

FOUR (samy gets her acceptance to umich)

the adrenaline buzzed through the young girl as she impatiently waited for her brothers and will to come back from their fishing excursion. their last eta update was 10 minutes ago being 15 minutes away meaning they were close to home.

samy texted them saying she had big news. the piece of paper was gripped firmly in her hands, the anticipation nearly killing the poor girl. she paced diligently across the porch with almost a hundred thoughts running through her brain.

distant voices started filling her ears, head whipping towards the dock down the yard. the four of them tumbled out of the boat. "mom! they're here!" samy yelled into the screen door.

she began waving her arms above her head, wanting to catch their attention. ellen was on the porch a moment later, phone in hand to record everyone's reactions.

"guys! guys! hurry!" the brunette yelled to will and her brothers.

"what's up little hughesy?" jack wondered as he picked his pace up and samy rolled her eyes at the nickname.

she'd never escape being little hughesy since her brothers would always be hughes or hughesy. she glanced back at her mom who beamed, nodding some encouragement.

"now what's up?" luke snickered while quinn and will looked at the girl expectantly while also confused when they saw ellen recording.

samy revealed the paper from behind her back, a large smile creeping onto her lips.

"i got into the university of michigan!!" samy exclaimed, immediately jumping up and down.

the shock hit all of their faces at the same time with luke being the first one to scoop his little sister into his arms.

"holy shit!! that's awesome! is it full ride for soccer??" the middle hughes exclaimed as well.

"full ride!" the girl echoed.

jack and quinn took their turns embracing their sister as well, leaving will as the last one. he scooped his best friend into his arms, a large smile plastered across his entire face.

"jesus, you're so awesome. so proud of you, hughesy," will gushed earning a small flush across the girl's cheeks.

she giggled as he spun her around a little.

"now you gotta come to michigan with me," samy poked his chest.

"or you can come to boston," the boy proposed with his little shit eating grin.

her eyes found everyone else's before landing on the tiny camera taking in the entire moment. she ran to it, showing off her acceptance letter with the word congratulations written in big letters across the top. someone wrapped their arms around her waist and samy immediately knew it was will just based on his hold. 

the quick kiss on her cheek most definitely went unknown by everyone except the camera. samy sported a small blush before turning back to her brothers where they all continued celebrating their little sister's acceptance. 

[moonchildstyles]

neglect

harrys in an unhappy marriage and didn't realize he was missing so much sunlight until y/n came in

cw: toxic relationship? idk harry's wife isn't nice:(

wordcount: 13.5k+

—————

"Bye, honey. Love you." 

Harry didn't realize he had his hopes up for a reciprocated response until nothing came. Minerva left though the door with nothing more than a wave tossed over her shoulder, eyes glued to her phone with a smile that wasn't for him on her lips. He didn't know the last time she said I love you back.

Heaving a sigh that lifted his shoulders before deflating into a slump, Harry locked the front door after his wife as the start of his day alone. 

It'd been two weeks since he lost his job in the third round of layoffs his office (ex-office?) was going through. It had been heartbreaking for Harry, having given almost a decade of his life—he was just months short of his ten year anniversary, actually—to this job; having given up on his dreams, and sacrificing time with his family all throughout those years. It all had been thrown away after one bad investor's meeting, leaving him with a measly severance package and a generic goodbye card left on his desk on his last day. As if that day couldn't get any lower, when Minerva finally came home and Harry sat her down to tell her the news, she barely looked up from the ping that lit up her phone screen. 

"That's what happens when you stay with a failing company, Harry. You should have been paying more attention." 

With that, she had left him to sit alone at the dining room table, his head in his hands as he tried not to let tears fall from his eyes. She always said he was too sensitive, crying would only serve to make her more annoyed with him.

Since then, he had all day long to shop around his resume online and through networking channels, only to field rejection emails by the end of the day. Minerva offered no support, only giving small hums or "I told you so" when she bothered to answer at all when he told her about his day over dinner. It broke his heart. 

While their marriage hadn't been anything close to perfect for a very long time (Harry didn't think it really ever had been, the more he thought about it), this was the worst it'd ever been. Minerva was always the harder one out of the two of them, which worked for a long time. It was all about balance, Harry remembered thinking back when they first moved in together after getting engaged. He was the soft one that cried watching romantic movies, and she was the one that would scoff at the logistics and talk about how unrealistic the stories were. She preferred horror with unhappy endings.

It worked, until it didn't.

Something changed after those first months of living together. Since then, Harry had been trying to play catch-up to get on the same page as her, but she seemed to be chapters ahead by the time he was even going in the right direction. His degree was never good enough, his dreams of being a songwriter or music producer were too silly to even entertain, and his family didn't support them enough. By the time he realized Minerva didn't even like him much anymore, let alone love him, he was left with a broken heart. 

But, even when he suggested counseling or even one of those couple's retreats that offered hands-on help, she shut him down immediately. That was all hippie shit he should have grown out of after they graduated college, she told him. It was her that brought up divorce, the word that had all but split Harry in half when it hung in the air between them, only for her to shut it down and tell him it wasn't an option as far as she was concerned—it would look bad for her to be a divorcee while she was still trying to climb the corporate ladder. Maybe after she made it to the executive level, she mused, if he still felt this way anyway. 

Harry did the only thing he felt he could: pretend everything was normal. If he wanted any chance of not losing his mind, sinking into a depression that he feared he would be unable to climb out of, he had to fall into the motions of loving her. He woke her up with breakfast ready before they'd leave for work—before he lost his job, of course—, telling her goodbye with a kiss to the cheek and hollow declaration of love that he still felt hurt by every time he didn't hear her say it back. When he made it home before her, he'd clean up the house, sorting through bills and mail, and get dinner ready, giving himself just enough time to slip back into his steeled character by the time she came through the front door and ignored him. 

But, Harry had always told himself it could be much worse—he was still lucky in some senses of the word, even if some nights he had to search hard for those moments—, and right he was about that. He was currently living through the worst it had ever been, moping around the house and feeling more down on himself than he knew was healthy for the fragile grip he had on his composure. 

As anxiety inducing as it all was (was finding a job always this hard or was he really as unimpressive as Minerva said he was?), the free time did allow him to work on projects he'd pushed to the side in favor of his nine-to-five. The attic had been successfully cleaned out and reorganized for the first time since moving in, the walls in the basement finally painted the eggshell blue Minerva picked out years ago, and the garage was spic-and-span. The last couple of days, he'd dedicated his time to maintaining the garden out front as well as the backyard, something he'd found himself enjoying more than any of the previous items on the honey-do list he was working through. His mom had always loved gardening, so he felt a lot closer to home when he plodded through the soil with fresh sprouts. 

After spending the first hour of the morning sending out his resume to a fleet of job postings and rifling through his email in hopes of getting anything back about a possible interview, he got changed for his day in the sun. He picked a white tank top with red stitching on the side declaring him as loved (though he didn't always feel that way) to adorn his torso with a pair of black shorts covering his thighs though his knee tattoos were left on display. Pulling his hair back with a tiny clip that left a sprout of hair fluffed on the top of his head, Harry slipped on a pair of large burgundy sunglasses before heading out the front door. 

Headphones plugged in his ears, he grabbed his supplies he'd left on the porch, fitting his hands into the pair of sturdy gloves he'd dug out when he cleaned the garage. Along the porch railing was the row of flowers he planned on shoveling into the soil, their planters barely containing the rich blooms rooted inside. The furling petals brought a smile to his face as he got to his knees near the plot of yard that had previously been nothing other than mulch and dandelions. Maybe having a garden out front might sweeten Minerva's sour mood if he did it just right. 

Tucking into the soil with the tools he had to reach out to his mom to verify were the right ones for the job, Harry started planting his rose garden. Green bushes with barely there blooms began to line the porch, making the tiny, white picket railing seem that might brighter against the rich hues of the buds. He was lost in his head, humming along to the music playing through his headphones as he built his garden, lavender and candy floss pinks joining his roses as the perfect growing companions. 

He didn't know how long he'd been out under the sun until he heard the faint sound of a car running behind him, the thrumming earning a glance over his shoulder. For a split second, he'd worried it was Minerva, home early. He had a feeling she wouldn't be happy to see him tending to the garden, tending to something they could have just hired someone to take care of if he'd been smarter about his career path. Instead, it was the car of the not-so-new neighbor that had moved in next door less than a year ago. 

A smile stretched across his face as he peered at her concentrated face through the tint of her window, a furrow to her brow as she navigated parking in the driveway. A breath of relief slumped her shoulders when she did so without incident; Harry understood, he'd seen her patching dings on her car too many times to count since she'd moved in. A clumsy driver, she was.

Harry plucked out his earbud as he sat back on his heels while she rifled through her car for a moment longer before stepping out onto the driveway. A bright smile covered her features as soon as she matched Harry's gaze, lifting his spirits higher than they'd been all day. A bubbly wave tinkled her fingers. 

"Hi, Harry!" she chattered out, hiking her bag up her shoulder as she lingered on the concrete. 

"Hi, (Y/N)," he reciprocated, his voice coming out a lot dreamier than he anticipated. 

"Your garden looks really nice," she beamed at him, toeing the ground with her teeth sinking into the plush of her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, knowing his entire face lit up at the praise, "'M not done yet, but 'm really liking how it's turning out." 

"I'm excited to see what it looks like when you have it all together, then," she offered, edging towards the open garage to head inside, "I'll see you around, Harry." 

"Bye," he told her, his voice carrying along with her as she went out of view. 

His gaze lingered in the spot he swore he saw a phantom of her form still. Even at the sound of the garage door closing signaling he was well and truly alone, Harry could still feel the effects of her presence, no matter how minute the interaction was. Plugging his headphone back in his ear, he went back to his work though he barely made note of anything he was doing. 

He liked (Y/N). Probably more than he should. 

She was just so sweet, enough so that her attention could make Harry blush. Even the first time they met, he remembered wishing he could have spent more time with her as she flitted about the neighborhood block party. She was a wonderful neighbor, always so considerate even though her roommate was very partial to a late night party now that they'd finally moved into an actual house after a spread of dodgy apartments through their college and some post-grad years (he'd overheard that during the block party). Minerva never seemed to like her much, though. She called her nosy, always talking to their neighbors, and attention-seeking with the way she supposedly paraded around the subdivision in her workout gear while taking her roommate's dog for a walk. 

Harry couldn't disagree more when his wife went off on her dislike for their neighbor, but it was something he had to keep to himself. Minerva would have his head if he defended (Y/N) the way he wanted to—with more than a shrug and "she's not like that, honey". Besides, he worried that if he truthfully spoke about how good he felt she was, that his little crush on her would turn into something more troublesome. He already had too many things going on inside his house, he didn't need to add the guilt of something more than a small crush on a nice girl worming it's way into his head. 

And, he cared for Minerva, still. Right? If he didn't, he would have insisted on getting a divorce and wouldn't worry so hard about what would make her happy with him. (Y/N) was a constant, happy presence in his life, even if their interactions were spread apart and only lasting some minutes here and there. Of course, he would get attached to the pretty girl who spared him attention and gave him praise without a second-thought. That didn't mean anything, though.

Even with the way his heart skipped a beat at the thought of his neighbor, Harry reminded himself of his reality. He was a married man, someone who cared for his wife and would continue to be a good husband to her until he signed his name on the dotted line. (Y/N) would always be nothing more than a nice friend. That's all.

—————

Harry sighed as he sank to his knees in his garden. Looking at all of his hardwork, he felt his heart break when he recalled Minerva's attitude the night before. 

She hated it. 

A waste of his time, she'd said. How was he supposed to find a respectable job when he was too busy with dirt up to his elbows doing a job fit for 'the help'? He had been floored when he heard her, but snapped his mouth shut as soon as she rolled her eyes and stomped upstairs, disregarding the dinner he had set out on the table. 

Looking at the bushel of lavender that still needed to be planted as well as the border that needed to be filled with his candy floss pinks, Harry didn't feel the same joy he had the day before. He probably could be a lot more useful browsing the job sites, checking in on his network connections again. If he tried hard enough, dedicated himself enough, he would get a response, right? 

His only saving grace was the music playing through his headphones, pushing him out of his head and into whatever the writer was urging him to feel with every beat and sprawled lyric. Music was everything to Harry. Way back when, he even had dreams of becoming a songwriter, or producing tracks and working in a studio—anything to put him in the industry. But that was years ago, before he was married and had to stop being so selfish with his dreams. Minerva wanted something better for him, so he had to let that go. 

Concentrating on the notes that filtered through his headphones, Harry was finally pushed out of his head and back into the moment. He would finish the garden, then go inside and job hunt some more, he decided. 

The sun was especially warm on his back today, soaking into the black fabric of his t-shirt (a bad choice in hindsight, he realized as soon as he checked the high temperature on his phone). Sweat dripped from his hairline as he dug into the soft soil lining his front porch, following the line of his nose before dropping into the dirt. If he was lucky, he would beat out a sunburn and leave with a tan coloring his skin, but the more he soaked in the heat, Harry didn't feel good about his chances. 

By the time only a half of the candy floss had been planted along the border, the neckline of his top was drenched in sweat and Harry was running out of the motivation to finish his project. It wasn't until he felt a soft hand nudge at his shoulder did he look up from the flowers he was plotting in the ground. That definitely wasn't Minerva, he knew that much before looking over his shoulder. She never touched him that gently anymore. 

Sitting back on his heels, pushing his sunglasses into the mass of hair on the top of his head, Harry turned onto only to see (Y/N) clad in her workout gear with her arms cradling snacks. 

He was quick to pull his earbud from his ear, looking to her with a shaky smile he hoped didn't embarrass him any more than the sweaty state she'd caught him in. "H-Hi, (Y/N)." 

"Hey," she greeted him with a bubbly smile, warmer than the heat clouding the air, "Looking really good, Harry." 

His mouth went dry as he processed her words. "Wh-What?" 

"Your garden," she clarified, nudging her chin in the direction behind him, "It's looking really good. Almost done?" 

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he blinked, rolling his lips between his teeth as he granted himself a reprieve of following her line of sight to his blooms. She made him so nervous it was hard to look at her. "Only a little more to go, so I should be finishing up today." 

"You've been at it all morning, I'm surprised you haven't passed out with how hot it is," (Y/N) continued, huffing out a laugh through a soft smile, "I just came back from walking my roommate's dog and made some snacks and lemonade, so I thought I'd come over and share, if you wanted any?"

Dropping his gaze to her hands, he found a paper plate with a bagel covered in cream cheese, and a handful of dried cranberries. In the crook of her elbow, a small, chilled water bottle was cradled. 

A smile crooked his lips as he gazed at her. 

Cute. 

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he said, twisting in his spot so he could properly face her, "Y'didn't have to." 

"It's alright," she beamed, offering him the refreshments with an outstretched hand, "I was already making my own, so I thought I'd make some for you, too." 

It was simple, what she brought out for him, but even just a single sip of the sugary lemonade was enough to have Harry's heart bloating. He couldn't remember the last time someone thought about him so considerately. 

"No, this is really kind of you, (Y/N)," he cemented, looking up at her from where he sat in his yard, trying his best to keep his gaze from going too soft, "Please, let me know if there's anything I can do for you, ever. You've been so nice to me ever since y'moved in, I want to pay y'back somehow." 

"Harry, really, it's alri—" 

"Humor me? Please?" She was giving him undeserved kindness, and he didn't want to take advantage of her.

The way her features softened as she looked down at him, hair messy on the top of her head and face glowing with the dew of a fresh workout, had Harry's heart clawing at his chest. She was looking at him like that. How lucky was he? 

"Alright, I'll let you know, okay? I'm sure something will come up soon enough; I don't know if you've noticed with the amount of times I've accidentally backed into my garage door, but I'm not great about not breaking things. Be prepared with the amount of help I'll be needing now that you've offered, Harry." Faux seriousness covered her features as she pointed an accusing finger at him, thought her facade was cracking with the curl of her lips and the soft set of her eyes. 

"I'll be ready, promise," he beamed up at her, pleased with the way she bit back her smile like she was afraid of how big it would grow if she didn't.

She lingered for a moment longer, her tender gaze dropping for her feet before she matched his gaze again. "I should probably get back to the dog—he doesn't like to be alone for long—, but, I'll come by if I need anything, Harry." 

"O-okay," he breathed out, catching a flutter in his heart at the sound of his name wrapped in her voice, "I'll be here." 

Her grin widened at his small joke as she edged back towards her home. With a little wave, she was on her way, Harry watching her the entire time. 

When he saw her twist to look over her shoulder, he felt silly for a moment to have been caught staring, but then she spoke: "Tell Minerva I said hi, too, please! I haven't seen her in so long!" 

It was the genuine smile on her face that had his heart dropping to his stomach. He kept quiet as he gave a confirming nod, waiting for her to disappear back inside her home before he dropped his gaze. 

She was a sweet, sweet, sweet girl who wanted him to say hello to his wife for her—the same woman that would smear mud across (Y/N)'s name at any given chance. She saw the best in everyone, even people who didn't deserve that rose-tinted view. She was much too good for him, he knew that much. Much too good to have a married man become infatuated with the idea of her. 

—————

Clicking out of his email, Harry ran a heavy hand through his hair. 

Nothing. Not a single response to all of his cover letters, tailored resumes, and followups. 

He knew in the grand scheme of things that four weeks really wasn't that long to be unemployed, but sitting in this house all day long, waiting for his wife to come home with whatever jeering remarks she stewed over all day, felt like years of torture. There wasn't anything else to fix up in the house that could distract him for hours on end; the gardens in both the front and back were planted and well maintained now, the garage still tidy, attic still clean and clear, and he'd even fixed that leaky faucet in the guest bathroom Minerva had been complaining about since they moved in. What else was there to do but marinate in his own short-comings and make himself go mad until it was time to make dinner?

Slumping into the couch cushions, Harry tried to distract himself by flicking on the television, hoping to find something to take his mind off of the replay of last night's silent dinner with Minerva. Sometimes he couldn't figure out what hurt more: her silence or her deprecating words that broke him down? 

Just as he found a daytime soap he remembered his mother tuning into, a quiet knock rang at the front door. He didn't make a move to answer it, assuming it was some delivery service dropping off something Minerva had ordered or a door-to-door solicitor that would be smart to get out of this neighborhood before one of the more haughty neighbors reamed him for doing his job. But, when another round of the soft rapping came, he dared to peek his head through the gauzy curtains and glimpse at the visitor. 

It was (Y/N). 

From the limited view he had, he could see the way she was glancing back and forth from his front door and to her house, toeing anxiously at the ground with her phone clutched in her hand. Today was her day off, he remembered that (don't ask him how, he knew it wasn't something he needed to remember but he couldn't help his memory), only emphasized by the comfy shorts she had on her legs and the large t-shirt that was much too cold to be wearing so early in the morning without a sweater. 

It was that one peek at her that had him rising from his spot on the couch and rushing towards the front door. By the time he twisted the locks and pulled the door open, (Y/N) was reluctantly stepping off the porch with her phone pressed to her ear. As soon as she saw Harry in the threshold, she ended her call with a sigh of relief.

"Harry," she breathed, hands falling to her sides, "I was so worried you were at work, or something." 

"Is everything alright? Are y'okay?" He didn't even realize he was scanning over her form for injuries until he met her gaze from where it had drawn down to her feet. 

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded, toeing at the ground as she glanced towards her house, "I just... You said you would be willing to help me if I needed anything, right?" 

"Yes, of course," he affirmed, a furrow pinching at his brows. 

"So," she started, looking guilty already, "I was about to go take a shower, but I think I broke it." 

"Broke what?" 

"The shower." 

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?" 

"Its..." she started again, scrunching her nose as she tried to find the words, "I don't know, it's just not working and I don't know what happened." 

"Okay," Harry said slowly, passing a hand through his hair as he stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him, "I'll take a look and see if I can help." 

"Thank you so much, Harry," (Y/N) babbled, relief touching at her features, "My roommate is going to kill me if I break one more thing in the house." 

"Yeah?" he pressed, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips with a dimple pressing into his cheek, "Have y'been breaking a lot of stuff then?" 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she started across the lawn with Harry following after. "I don't think so, but Mitch swears that I broke the panini press, the wifi-thing, the ice maker, and I somehow, apparently, fucked up the coffee table, or something. I think he's just dramatic and doesn't pay attention when he's using things, but whatever."

A smile bloomed across his features as he listened to her list off every appliance and piece of furniture that could be in a house. Now, including a shower (whatever that exactly meant) on that list. 

Humming, he nodded his head, "Do y'think he breaks it and tries to blame it on you, or something?" Harry wouldn't like that. (Y/N) didn't deserve a roommate like that. 

"No," she waved off, pushing open the unlocked front door before letting Harry in ahead of her, "he's not like that. I just think some of the things we have are old, so of course they stop working or break, and he knows he didn't do it so he thinks it's me. But, I think it's just the universe." 

"I see," Harry smiled, stepping into her home. 

While it was a shared space, he could still spot the (Y/N)-esque touches littered throughout the living room; a soft knitted blanket in creamy tones thrown across the back of the deep green couch, a bookcase spotted with novels he'd heard her reference to her friends in the neighborhood along with little crystals and delicate trinkets, and photos framed on the wall with her beaming smile lighting up the setting. Everything looked worn and loved, handed down from relatives or second-hand shops—nothing at all like the stiff decor and furniture that Minerva had picked out from a catalogue exactly as it was. It looked like a home. 

"It's the upstairs bathroom, if you wanted to follow me," (Y/N) explained, stopping him from wandering out into the space to see what it would feel like to wrap himself in things that were (Y/N). 

"Right, the shower," he murmured under his breath, trailing behind her, "What exactly happened?" 

An exasperated shrug of (Y/N)'s shoulders was the view he was granted a couple of steps behind, "I don't know. I got all my stuff ready to take my shower, and I was waiting for the water to warm up and when I pulled the thing to make it come out of the shower head and not the faucet, it just... didn't work." 

She took him to the bathroom in question, opening the door to the brightly lit and femininely decorated bathroom (her own personal one, he'd assume) with the remnants of steam still touching the top of the mirror. 

"Watch this." She beckoned to him, settling on her knees on the tiled floor. Twisting the knob on the temperature control, water started streaming through the faucet and splashing across the tub. She paused for a moment as if to ensure Harry was properly watching before she reached across and pulled the pin at the top of the faucet, the same one that should redirect the water flow up to the shower head. The second it was pulled, there was a sputtering of water flowing for a moment longer before only a single bead fell from the shower head. The faucet stopped leaking, leaving the water to go down the drain before the shower was dry, none of the outlets dispensing. 

"Huh," Harry breathed, gaze drifting back and forth between the faucet and the shower head as if either one would explode at a moment's notice with all the water pent up. 

"Right?" 

"It just started acting weird today?" he asked, reaching into the bathtub and pulling on the pin again. The same result: silence and dryness. 

"Yeah, it was perfectly fine last night. And everything else like the sink, and the kitchen, and Mitch's bathroom are all working. It's just the shower." 

Harry tested it out for a few minutes, (Y/N)'s eyes following him as he tinkered with the knob controlling the pressure and temperature, the pin, and the shower head itself. Nothing changed as he poked and prodded, a furrow pinching his brow. 

"Do you know where your water heater is?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to her as he twisted the knob to off. 

Pausing when he saw the way she was sat so prettily behind him, Harry suddenly felt flush under her attention. He had felt the warmth of her gaze the whole time as he worked and messed around with the appliance, but it was different seeing her with wide eyes looking up at him with her legs tucked carefully under her body. Even with her messy hair and ill-fitting clothes, Harry swore for a moment she was surrounded by starlight and puffs of cotton candy clouds—a dream on earth. 

His heart skipped a beat with butterflies filling his tummy. Since when was he this far gone? 

A loud thud sounded from the floors below, the only thing that shook Harry from whatever was running through his head that only jumbled the second he remembered this was (Y/N) who was gazing up at him like that. 

"(Y/N)?" he stuttered over her name, his arms dropping limply at his sides.

The call of her name brought focus to her eyes. "Hm?" she hummed, with with a flutter of her lashes. 

"D-Do you know where your water heater is?" he tried again, running a nervous finger under the tip of his nose. 

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she breathed out on a laugh, rising to her shaky legs, "It's in the basement."

They were quiet as Harry followed her on an impromptu tour of the house, down the two floors to the chilled basement. It was when she reached the landing did she stop in her tracks with a gasp. It took him only a second to peer around her shoulder and find the cause of her widened eyes and fists clutched to her chest. 

The concrete floor of the space was covered in a shallow pool of water. Some spaces the level was lower than others, but there was definitely enough water covering the floor to account for what hadn't been streaming through the shower upstairs. 

"Shit," Harry whispered, spotting the pack of boxes pushed into the very corner of the basement, the bottom row slowly taking on water.

"Those are Mitch's things," she rushed out, following his line of sight, "I need to get them upstairs before anything gets messed up." 

(Y/N) didn't falter after that, splashing through the water with her bare feet. Harry went to follow her, only to have to step out of the way as she was on her way back with a box stacked in her arms. 

"D-Do y'want help?" The question felt a little dumb leaving Harry's mouth, but he didn't want to start rummaging around if she would prefer he stand back.

"Would you, please?" (Y/N) asked from halfway up the stairs, "Thank you so much, Harry." 

Hearing that strain in her voice was all he needed before he was setting off to help her pick up the boxes, trudge through the water and up the steep stairs. By the time there was nothing more than the last few boxes, the bottoms all soaked in the leaked water, he was out of breath but (Y/N) looked a little less stressed. Only a little. 

"Thanks," she panted out again once all of her roommates things were safely tucked away on dry land. Her eyes fluttered closed before she ran a heavy hand over her features, the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. "I think Mitch is really going to kill me for this one. I don't even know what happened." 

Hands on his hips, Harry remembered the shimmering lake that had taken over the level below. "I don't either, love, but you're going to need to call someone to fix it. 'M sure something is blocked." 

"Probably," she sighed, eyes focusing on a random spot by her feet as she pinched at her lips, "H-How do I get the water out of the basement, though?" 

"Jus' gonna have to mop it up, and use some towels, I think. 'S not a lot, so it shouldn't be too bad." 

"Yeah," she breathed out again, focus coming back to her gaze as it flitted up to return Harry's. "I'm so sorry to ask, but would you be able to help? Even just for a lit—"

"Yeah, of course I can help." A heat touched at his cheeks as he realized just how eagerly he had offered up his help. But, with the way (Y/N) lit up at his agreement to help, he didn't really mind how silly he sounded. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. So much, Harry," she beamed at him, already seeming to have more life in her as she toed towards the stairs leading her up a level, "I'll go grab some towels, but the mop is in the kitchen, over there, if you can get that. I'll be right back. Thank you so much!" 

It was with a scuttle of her feet and a twist of her hair fluttering behind her that she disappeared up the staircase. Harry's gaze followed after her for a moment longer, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he felt a smile coming on. 

—————

"Did you always want to do accounting?" 

(Y/N)'s question echoed in the empty basement, sounding over the slopping sound of the mop in Harry's hands sopping up the water that didn't seem to have an end. He shrugged, having expected this question when they started talking about their career-paths (apparently, (Y/N) wanted to be a writer, but she was currently working retail so she could pay the bills in the meantime). 

"Not really," he answered honestly, wringing out the mop into the accompanying bucket that was just under half full at this point, "I actually wanted to get into music, but this seemed more practical." 

"Music?" (Y/N) perked up, wringing out a soaked towel before opting for the slightly drier ones as she worked on her hands and knees, "Like as a singer?" 

A smile plucked at Harry's features at the enthusiasm in her voice. He couldn't remember the last time someone sounded genuinely excited at the idea of learning more about him. 

"Maybe if I felt right, but mostly songwriting and producing. I liked the idea of being in one of those big studios, you know?" The images he'd had of his life when he was young flashed through his head. His heart almost broke at how easily it was to conjure up those pictures despite how long it'd been since he allowed himself to indulge in those what-ifs.

"Did you write a lot of songs then? Anything I might have heard?" (Y/N) wasn't even working anymore, that much Harry could tell when he peeked at her through his lashes. She was sitting back on her heels listening to him, attention rapt and unwavering. 

"No, I never really made music. Everything I've ever written is packed away in some journal in m'attic. I haven't seen it since university, I think." That was a little bit of a lie, if he was being honest. He'd seen it when he was reorganizing the attic space and moving things around. He just didn't have the guts to open it.

He could hear the pout in her voice as she humphed. "That's a bummer. I would have loved to read what you wanted to put to music," she mused, "If you ever find it, would you let me read some of it?" 

Against his will, a memory of him shoving his book into Minerva's hands, asking her to read his latest work—one that was inspired by her—before she refused, not wanting to read any of what his silly hobby spawned. It was a waste, she had told him in her own way; music wasn't a stable job and he needed to wake up before it was too late and he'd sung them into living in a cardboard box. 

Harry made quick work of shoving that thought to the side, inserting himself into the moment with (Y/N) once more. It was the glimmer in her eyes, the smile on her lips, and the fact she asked to read his art that had him answering in a heartbeat. "Of course. You'll be the first person I call." 

The creases that lined her face as her smile grew was enough to wipe those awful moments with Minerva away like the water he was sopping off the floor. Speaking around her smile, she dropped her gaze to the towel in her hands, "So—um—if you wanted to be a songwriter, why did you end up going into accounting? That's a huge field change." 

"Yeah," he sighed, plucking at his bottom lip for a moment of comfort, "Um, she—sorry, Minerva, she thought it would be a better idea to go into something like finance. More stable and real than music." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, voice neutral though he could see her features scrunch up some, "I can see that a little, I guess. Did she ever help you write or anything like that?" 

"Not really. It wasn't something she thought was..." Harry floundered as he remembered all the things she called his songwriting (not worth her time, stupid, an excuse to not find a real job, ect.). Those probably weren't the kind of things to dump on his neighbor. "It was jus' hard for her to get into it the way I did. I usually did all of it alone." 

"Well," she started, a slight pinch lingering in her brows as she crawled to the next section of floor, "I'm sure if she could have helped, she would have." 

Harry didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. 

"Yeah, but what about you, hm?" he switched, wringing out the mop once more, "What kind best-seller are y'drafting?" 

It seemed that was the perfect question to ask her as she shot into an explantation of the creative writing class she had taken in college and the idea of a narrative that never quite left her (of course only after she rolled her eyes at his best-seller comment. I haven't even finished a single chapter, Harry, she told him though the smile she was biting back still bled into her features). He was wrapped up solidly in the world she was painting for him, even when she shyly brought up the romantic aspects as she was most excited about adding. 

Despite the water seeping through his Vans and chilling him from his toes up, Harry swore he could have stayed in that basement all day long hearing her talk about the things she loved. 

What a privilege that would be.

—————

Minerva didn't even bother to wake Harry up before she was off to work this morning, only leaving a note tacked to the fridge about the shopping that needed to be done today and that she would be home late due to after-work drinks with some of her colleagues. He wasn't all that surprised at that. She seemed to prefer to spend any time she could away from him, no matter where it was.

At least, he had a task that would take up some of the morning and direct his mind off of the sourness that was filling his lungs every time he thought about Minerva. 

Taking his time to clean up after the breakfast his wife made for herself before her day at work, Harry didn't leave for grocery shopping until late in the morning. Armed with Minerva's list as well as the mental one he'd developed after spending so much time at home and in charge of meals, he plucked a trolley and started off through the shelves. 

The store was luckily fairly empty given the time of day he was waltzing through the aisles, and Harry couldn't be more grateful for the chance to move at his own pace. He was feeling particularly slothly today, sluggish limbs and tired eyes, so at least he wasn't being pushed around and feeling rushed to get out of there as soon as he could. He marked off every item he grabbed from the shelves as he went, putting together a menu for the rest of the week. 

It wasn't until he was armed with the ingredients to Minerva's favorite pad Thai recipe—one she probably wasn't even going to eat, he pessimistically decided—that he ran into another's cart. 

"Oh gosh—" 

"I'm sorry—" 

The second he saw who he had accidentally bumped into, every bit of exhaustion evaporated from his limbs. 

(Y/N)'s expression cleared up just the same, the apology on her lips falling away in favor of wrapping her voice around his name. "Hi," she greeted him, "Fancy seeing you here." 

"Yeah, sorry about that," he told her, sounding much too chipper for an apology, "Wasn't watching where I was going." 

"It's alright, I'm happy it was you," she cemented, parking her cart on the other side of the aisle from him, settling in, "How are you?" 

"'M good, thank you," he smiled, "How's your shower and everything? Did that guy end up making it out there?" 

"Yeah, he came a little after you left," she sighed, shaking her head as if recalling the memory made her just as exasperated as she was in real time, "It was so stupid. I don't even know what it was that was blocking my shower, but something was blocking that specific channel so every time I turned it on and tried to get water to come out, I was breaking something else and flooding the basement. I feel like he was being a jerk, but Mitch says that I was probably just in a bad mood." 

Harry shrugged, biting back a smile though he was sure his dimple still poked through. Maybe she was in a bad mood—he wouldn't blame her—, but she hadn't been in one by the time he left. If he really let his heart run away from him, he'd let himself imagine he had been the one to keep her happy.

"At least he got it fixed, right?" he tried, leaning his forearms into the seat of the trolley, chin resting on his fist. 

"Yeah," she smiled, apparently forgetting the supposed attitude she was given, "I got to wash my hair afterwards, so that was nice." He watched as her gaze dropped to the contents of his cart, eyes lighting up when she caught sight of something to pique her interest. "Where did you find that pizza dough? Mitch and I keep ordering out for pizza so I was trying to get stuff to make it ourselves instead." 

An apologetic smile curled his lips before she even finished speaking. "It's over by the cheese counter, but I did grab the last couple. 'M sorry, (Y/N)." 

The second he watched her deflate, the makings of a pout itching at her lips, Harry couldn't help himself. He just wanted to see her smile again. 

"I was planning on using them for lunch today, but, if y'want, y'can come over and-and try it with me? I haven't tried this one before either, so if y'like it, y'can take some home." 

He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heartbeat as he allowed his mouth to run ahead of him. 

(Y/N) hesitated from where she stood in front of him, the blunt edges of her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. With a flutter of her lashes, she returned his gaze. "Are you sure? I can just get some next time, it's alright." 

Swallowing, he saw the way out she was giving him, but he found himself wanting to stay just where he'd put himself. 

"'M sure," he cemented, surprised by how lightweight the words felt, "I was going to eat by myself anyway, so at least we could talk a little." 

A beat passed before she offered him a sweet smile and a nod of her head. "Alright. I still have some more shopping to do, but when I'm home, I could come by? As long as you're alright with waiting for me." 

Harry didn't need to think before he was nodding his head. 

Of course he would wait for her.

—————

Was this cheating? 

Harry's chest constricted at the thought. 

He wasn't a cheater, was he?

All he'd done was invite a friend over for lunch and to talk, just as they'd done before. He'd ran into her at the supermarket and asked if she wanted to share some of the food he was planning on making anyway, especially as she was only a door down. That's not cheating, right? 

No, he told himself. They hadn't even touched outside of passing each other when they were lugging up her roommate's belongings upstairs, let alone kiss or go further. And nothing they'd talked about had verged into romantic territory, not even for a second. He talked to her like he would talk to a friend. He'd had female friends before—before Minerva, of course—and this was how he would treat any of them. He would even argue he's held her at a larger distance away, especially since he was married. 

Just because he thought his friend was pretty, didn't mean he was cheating. 

Minerva even knew about he extra time here and there he was spending with (Y/N), though she definitely scoffed and made faces whenever he spoke her name. If he was doing something wrong, he wouldn't have told Minerva anything, right?

Harry couldn't calm his spinning mind as he put away his groceries, spiraling out of control as he contemplated turning (Y/N) away when she came to the door—with all the ingredients for a pizza to make at her own home. But, as much as he was worried about the blurry line he was approaching, he didn't want to say no to her and make her leave. He didn't want the sunshine that was leaking into his life courtesy of his neighbor to become shrouded by clouds once again. 

It was an innocent friendship, and if Harry couldn't handle himself, he would stop it. He vowed to himself that if he came to a point where he was worried he wouldn't be able to not cross into the shades of grey safely, then he would end it. Because he was someone's husband before he was someone's friend. 

It wasn't until he heard a knock on the front door that Harry's frantic hands came to a sputtering halt. Bracing his hands on the edge of the counter where he stood in front of the ingredients for his pizza project, he took a steadying breath. He centered himself for one more moment before going to the door to let his friend in. 

(Y/N) greeted him with a bright smile when he swung the door open. "Hi, stranger," she bubbled, hands folded in front of her dressed in the same comfy set he'd found her in at the grocery. 

"Hi," he greeted her, feeling the stretch of his grin as he took her in. 

Even as he widened the berth of the door, clearing way for her to pass through, (Y/N) nervously toed the porch, eyes giving way to a tinge of anxiety he'd never seen there before. A pinch drew his brows together as he watched her. 

"You're still hungry, right?" he prodded, giving her an out if she decided she would rather be at home. 

His question seemed to shake her from wherever she had crawled to in her head. "Y-Yeah, sorry," she brushed off with a smile, stepping over the threshold and into his home, "I just realized I've never been inside your house before." 

"That's right, huh," he said, smile going lopsided with only a single dimple in his cheek, "Busy couple of weeks for us, then, right? Packing a whole lot of basic friendship things into a few days." 

Harry knew he uttered the word friendship for his benefit only, feeling stiff as it passed his lips. Because this was what this all was. Friends went to each other's houses, and got to know each other through quality time. Nothing nefarious or wrong about that. 

"We've been neighbors for almost a year, and I think I just learned your last name," (Y/N) laughed, waiting for him as he locked the front door before starting off towards the kitchen with her behind him. 

"That's what happens when y'wait to break your shower so y'can invite me over," Harry shrugged, looking over his shoulder with a smug smile on his lips. 

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes, and shook her head as they entered the kitchen. Harry's set up was just as he'd left it: dough rolled out and floured, his favorite pizza sauce set off to the side with every fix-in delegated to different bowls and packages for easing picking. She followed after him with a light to her eyes, taking in the station he'd set up for them. 

"I didn't know what y'might want to put on it, so I jus' got everything out," he explained, starting to feel a little sheepish over the amount of effort he put into his friend's meal. 

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled at him, standing in front of one of the two slabs of rolled out dough, "This is perfect. You're so nice." 

He had to pretend that his heart didn't flutter some at the gentle compliment she gave him. 

Smiling down at his hands, Harry turned towards the sink to wash up before starting to assemble the food so she didn't see the flush he was sure was pricking the tip of his nose. 

Once she'd followed the same procedure before returning to her station, Harry finally chanced a look at her where she stood with expecting eyes. Yeah, she was still pretty.

"Ready?" he murmured, swallowing around the word. 

"Ready." 

—————

"So, you didn't even actually work in the bakery? You did that on purpose, didn't you? So I would be lulled into a sense of trust even though you were only winging it on the bake time for the pizza." 

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he listened to (Y/N)'s very true accusations. There had been something of a squabble over the bake time and temperature, as (Y/N) had supposedly googled the best combination of how long to let them sit under the heat and just how high the dial needed to be twisted while Harry swore by his own method. A wicked smile had curled his lips when he brought out the best end to the argument: his so-called experience.

"You're the worst," she challenged, shaking her head when she saw the quirking of his lips, "You just didn't want me to be right." 

"They turned out jus' fine, didn't they?" Harry countered, jutting his chin out in playful defiance.

(Y/N) muttered out a muted whatever, though the flutter of her lashes and sparkle in her eyes didn't diminish to go along with her faux-attitude.  

A warm silence settled within the dining room as they each took bites of their food, Harry unable to stop himself from looking at her through his lashes. He swore he even caught her drawing her eyes away at the last second during one of his peeks. 

"I hope this doesn't come out wrong," (Y/N) broke the silence, wiping her mouth of the pizza sauce that had collected on the corner, "but, I'm kind of happy you're not working right now. We've actually gotten to get to know each other now that you've been home." 

Looking at her, moony eyes with fluttery lashes and dewy skin glimmering in the sunlight leaking through the windows, Harry wanted to kiss her. That scared him. 

While it might not have been the first time he thought about what it would be like to kiss (Y/N), it had previously always been in the abstract, someone in his place before the fleeting thought was out of his head in a blink. But, this time... this time was it's own beast that has Harry's heart rattling against his ribcage like a criminal in a jail cell.

This time, he had a solid vision of himself, reaching across the dining table he had dinner with his wife at, fitting his hand around the back of (Y/N)'s neck—wedding band and all—before slotting his lips against hers. She was happy she'd had a chance to get to know him, and that was something he hadn't realized he'd ever wanted to hear.

And, that scared him. This was cheating, wasn't it? Married men don't think about kissing other women like that. They don't look across the table and try to pick out the glimmers in their neighbor's eyes, or wonder how soft her lips would be, or wish they could tuck their face into her neck and see if she really smelled like strawberry poundcake like the lotion on her bathroom counter suggested. Married men shouldn't do that. 

Harry swallowed thickly, dropping his gaze to his unfinished slice of misshapen pizza. 

"Is everything okay?" (Y/N) broached, speaking to him as if he were an injured animal, "I didn't mean to make you upset about work. I shouldn't have said it lik—" 

"No, no," Harry shook his head, a stray curl landing across his forehead, "'S not that, don't worry. I know what y'were trying to say." 

"Okay," (Y/N) sounded, the syllables coming out quietly as she placed her pizza down, "Is something else wrong then?" 

How was he supposed to explain to her that he crossed into territory that was too blurry to be safe for him—the one with the wedding band on his finger? She had no idea of what was running through his head as she spoke, the way his heart skipped a beat when she gave him attention he hadn't even known he'd been craving since she approached him in the garden weeks ago. At this pace, he was ruining two relationships at once: his marriage to Minerva and his friendship with (Y/N). 

"(Y/N), I..." he started, unable to think clearly with the way his heart crawled up into his throat. Was there an eloquent way to tell someone you can't see them anymore because you fear you might cheat on your spouse if you became any closer? Was there ever a good time to confess to having feelings for another woman while also cutting them off? 

"Harry," (Y/N) murmured, "you're worrying me. Can you at least tell me if you're alright?" 

"I d-don't know, (Y/N)," he sighed, dropping his head into his hands that were propped up on elbows pinned to the table, "I don't—It might—... I think I might need to take a step back from you." 

Silence fell over the room once more, this time lacking the warmth that it had been filled with less than ten minutes prior.

"I... don't think I understand," she responded, sounding stiff. 

Harry shook his head in his hands, his hair fluffing around his face. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other anymore, es-especially alone like this." 

Heat crawled up his features, starting at the base of his neck as he choked out the words. He couldn't even look at her, but he could fantasize about cheating on his wife with her? 

"Um, okay," (Y/N) said after a beat, words stilted, "I understand. May I ask why, though? Because if it was something I did, I want to apologize at least." 

He shook his head as she spoke. None of this was her fault. Never was an apology from her lips needed over this situation. He dared to peek up at her through the cage of his fingers, finding her with her gaze downcast and shoulders deflated. 

His tongue felt thick as he tried to speak around it, dry throat not helping any. He floundered over the honesty he knew he owed her. "It's jus'... 'M married and all, you know?" 

The pieces seemingly clicked together for (Y/N) without any extra explanation. She gave a slow nod of her head. "Right. I'm sorry if I crossed any boundaries, or anything. I didn't mean to." 

Before he could offer any consolation, tell her that the fault was all his own and she'd been nothing more than the sunshine he'd been aching for since he found himself on a clouded shore, but she was quick to pushed away from the dining table. She offered a polite thank you for lunch, before she was out of the house in record time; the sound of the door shutting behind her lingered longer than she did. 

Scrunching his eyes tightly, Harry couldn't help but dig the pads of his fingers into the soft skin of his eyelids. "Fuck," he whispered to himself in the empty house. In a burst of frustration at the feeling of tears filling his eyes as if he had earned the right to be upset over the entire situation, he slammed his fists onto the table. The china rattled on the surface, only joining in with the ruckus of the loud Fuck! he screamed into the void of his home. 

Slumping back into his chair, Harry stared up at the ceiling for who knows how long until he felt a nerve in the muscles pinch over the position. A labored breath was all he managed to pull into his lungs as he looked over the state of his home. 

He needed to clean up before Minerva came home.

—————

Harry pushed the pad Thai around in his bowl, chopsticks making a dull scraping sound against the porcelain. Minerva—surprisingly home for dinner, which he hadn't been anticipating—had her eyes glued to her phone with a curl to her lips. The house was filled with silence just the way it had been for the last week and a half since Harry brought on his own heartache. 

Since (Y/N) walked out, Harry hadn't been able to get her off his mind. 

Nothing had been the same since the sound of the door slamming after her reverberated through the house. He swore that a part of his heart walked right out after her, trailing behind the home it had been trying to make in the warmth of her. He lied awake that night, wallowing in the mistake he'd made on two women in his life he was supposed to care about and protect. He'd failed on both fronts. 

But, even after he cut himself off from the wallowing—he determined he didn't deserve more than a couple of days since this was all his doing—he found an ache lingering in his bones and a fog clouding his brain. He didn't want to eat, barely made sure he drank some water each day, and wanted nothing more than to hole himself up in the master bedroom though he never managed to actually sleep. If he wasn't distracted enough, his mind would wander too far away, waking up things he'd rather stay asleep. 

He could only recall feeling like this once before: when Minerva had changed, making it very clear she was no longer invested in him or their relationship. 

He was broken-hearted. Over losing (Y/N). 

Maybe he had more than a silly crush on her like he had thought. He found himself wondering in the aftermath if she was alright. Was she blaming herself? Was she keeping busy with her roommate? Was she taking care of herself? It only worried him when he saw her roommate walking the dog around the neighborhood, something that seemed to be (Y/N) job exclusively before this. When he told Minerva that (Y/N) wouldn't be hanging around much anymore, he remembered how angry he became when she laughed, the noise cruel, and said something about how it was about time she'd run off. 

How dare she? he recalled thinking. (Y/N) had never once said a single bad word about her, and yet Minerva couldn't even spare a question on why she wouldn't be over anymore or if something had happened. He'd shared the fact he'd made a real friend for the first time in years, and she didn't bother to ask what would be the cause of the separation, even going so far as to rub it in his face with an I-told-you-so-esque comment? Who was this person he had married?

But, in the end, (Y/N) sat at the forefront of his mind, stealing any selfish thought and reminding him of the real innocent in this situation. She deserved better. 

His feelings for her had been a lot more real than he even realized. If he had known, he liked to think things would have turned out differently for them. 

Holding back a sigh, Harry pinched a bean sprout between his chopsticks as he slumped over the table with his chin in his hands. 

"I heard back from that auto-body place I told you about," Harry offered, filling the silence with his raw voice. Minerva didn't even look up.

"Hm?" 

"That job I applied for—bookkeeping at that auto-body place just out of town. They emailed me back; I have a phone interview with them tomorrow," he shared, hoping the good news would at least make her happy. Maybe, that would be enough to get him out of his head, the static of the house surely not helping him feel normal. 

"Oh," Minerva sounded, a sour expression pinching her features, "You actually applied there? I thought I told you it sounded gross." 

Rolling his neck, he swallowed. "I know, but work is work and that's what I need right now. I can keep looking even if they hire me, I jus' need something right now." 

A roll of her hazel eyes was granted in response to his words. "It's like you don't even listen to me. Sure, you're unemployed, but do you not think it would look worse for you to work at some greasy mechanic? Harry, it's gross, and you would know that if you ever actually listened to me." 

Her biting words touched a nerve Harry didn't even know had been exposed. 

"I listen to you all the time, Minerva," he grumbled, voice low and controlled. His heart pounded in his ears, the sound rising from his chest.

She scoffed at his retort, her phone finally dropping from her hand as she sat up straight in her seat. "Excuse me?" 

"I said," he breathed, tempering himself before he raised his voice, "I always listen to you. Jus' like how I listened to you when y'said I wasn't trying hard enough and thinking too much of myself and not applying to jobs on my level. So, I broadened my search—like you asked—and found this place that would pay nicely and might appreciate what I could bring."

"Oh, now you're just blaming me, like it's my fault you couldn't find anything other than some slum to hire you. Stop being a dick, and just listen to wh—" 

"I am listening! I have listened for the last seven years! And, I don't want to listen anymore, Minerva!" 

It was like the universe knew about the changing tide, a sudden clash of thunder echoing outside that ramped up the storm that had been brewing in the clouds. The second the sky settled, Harry realized the tone and volume of his words and the fact Minerva hadn't said a single thing back, already feeling guilt in his system. 

"I shouldn't have shouted at you, 'm sorry, M—" 

"This is about her, isn't it? 

Harry was taken aback at the accusing tone of voice she used on him. Flicking his gaze between her eyes, he found the anger that had been brewing in her silence. She hadn't been scared or upset that he'd raised his voice—no, she was trying to find the best way to one-up him. 

"Who?" 

"The fucking neighbor you're so obsessed with. This is about her, isn't it? She's been telling you I'm the bad guy for wanting you to get a good job, is that it?" 

Stinging offense touched at Harry's chest. "This has nothing to do with (Y/N), leave her out of this, Minerva. She's never said a bad thing about you, you know that? When all you do is shit on her for no other reason than the fact she exists." 

"I have reason, Harry," she spat, leaning over the table as he voice grew, "Like the fact that my husband eye-fucks her every time she's around! Did you really think I didn't fucking notice?!" 

"'S not like that, Minerva, and you know it." Harry slid his hands into his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. "Why would you even care, anyway? 'S not like you even like me anymore." 

"Because you're my husband. You are mine, until I decide otherwise. Then you can sleep around with every girl you see—but until then, you have to listen to me." 

Harry didn't even realize a sheen had collected over his eyes, tears in his waterline as he just realized just how trapped he was in that moment, not until Minerva pointed it out to him. 

"Are you really about to cry, right now?" 

"I know you're cheating on me." 

The words slipped past his lips before he even realized they were on the tip of his tongue. He'd barely let himself think about what Minerva was really up to those nights she was getting drinks, or staying late to finish a project, let alone speak them aloud. But now, there they were. In the static silence of the dining room, he was tired of pretending and listening and hoping. 

Minerva seemed to be floored for a second, floundering over her words. "Don't try to turn this on me, Harry—" 

"I do your laundry, you know" he sighed, exhausted now that the biggest weight had left his chest, "I've seen what you wear those nights you're supposedly at the office until one in the morning." 

"Oh, so now I can't wear sexy underwear without your permission—" 

"And, remember when you insisted I share my location with you? Even went through my phone and did it all when I was in the bathroom." Harry swallowed at the memory, but he felt numb to the panic that began to rise in Minerva's eyes. "But, I can see your location, too. I know you're not at the office or whatever bar you pretend to get drinks at when you don't come home." 

She was stock still for a moment before Minerva crossed her arms heavily over her chest, slumping back into her chair. "Okay, and?" she spat, rolling her eyes as if this were another petty argument, "It's not like we haven't been over for years—sorry I wanted to feel loved for once." 

Harry didn't even pay her jabs any mind. None of this mattered anymore to his battered heart. 

"I want a divorce." 

"Harry, we've talked about this. It's no—" 

"I don't care about your job. I want a divorce." 

Venom filled her eyes as she locked her gaze on him.

"You only want this now that you have your little whore next door, isn't it? Yo—" 

"Minerva, please," he heaved, exasperated as his hands fell limp into his lap his neck rolling back to pin his gaze to the ceiling, "Why can't we just be happy? That's all I want. We get a divorce, and you can feel loved by whoever you want and I can get the fuck out of this house." 

Harry didn't look at her even as he heard the sound of her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "Fucking fine, Harry," she spat his name out like bile, "Get the papers and I'll sign them—no contest, or whatever makes this fastest. But if you want to get out of this fucking house so bad, you can start tonight. Find somewhere else to sleep, asshole." 

With that, his soon-to-be ex-wife stomped upstairs, slamming the master bedroom door hard enough he was sure that his wedding photos would have fallen from the walls had this been a movie. The sickly silent house was filled with the sound of the pelting rain from outside, the interior lit up by lightning strikes and shook by the pounds of thunder. 

He needed to get out of here. 

It was as if he was on autopilot as he moved through the kitchen and out the front door with nothing more than his phone and keys. He didn't even realize where he was going until he was dripping wet with rain soaking him to the bone on (Y/N)'s door step.

He must have missed knocking on her door because he was surprised when he saw the door open wide with (Y/N) standing in her pajamas, concerned etched all over her face with his name forming on her lips.

"I'm getting a divorce." 

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as he cut her off, taking in the rain-sodden man. The water dripping from his hair onto the stained wood of her porch mimicked the watery gaze he stared at her with. 

"Harry, you didn't because of m—" 

"No, no," he swallowed, his mouth working faster than his brain, "No, it's not-not because of you. I should have done this a long time ago, I just let her decide everything for me even if I hated it. You-You made me re-real again. I couldn't stay with her knowing I could be happy again somewhere—somewhere that wasn't with her." 

He watched through bleary eyes as her shoulders raised with a deep breath before she reached out to him. 

"Come inside, you're going to get sick," she murmured, a sad smile on her features that shouldn't have tugged at his heartstrings. 

Taking wooden steps, the cold finally registering on his skin now that the option of warmth was presented in her home as he crossed the threshold. Water dripped onto the hardwood that was identical to what was next door, but felt completely different in a space that actually knew happiness. A man was sat on the couch, long dark hair falling over his shoulder with a pinched mouth and wide eyes taking in the new visitor. 

"Harry," (Y/N) said, stepping around him once the door was locked and closed, "this is my roommate, Mitch. Mitch, this is Harry... our neighbor." 

Mitch nodded his head, rolling his lips between his teeth before he straightened up from his slumped position. "Nice to meet you," he smiled politely before his eyes slid to (Y/N), "I'm gonna go to my room, so if you need anything, just let me know." 

Harry stood with his arms crossed over his chest as they stood, seemingly waiting for the click of Mitch's bedroom door before (Y/N) unfroze. "Um," she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she met Harry's gaze, "I'm gonna go grab you some clothes to wear while we wash your stuff. Just... wait right here, but I'll be right back."

(Y/N) lingered for a moment longer, placing a gentle hand on his arm to go along with her softened features before she was padding up the stairs. It could have been two minutes or two years that it took (Y/N) to return from her search, but Harry had no idea about the difference. He only took note of her soft hands urging him towards the bathroom, a set of oversized clothing tucked into his arms she told him was her brother's. He wouldn't mind if Harry borrowed them, she assured him. 

Maybe it was the cold or the shock that lingered in his system that kept his joints stiff as he dressed. Once his wet clothes were nothing more than a puddle on the titled floor, heavy and thick with the new set cozied to his form, a hair too big, Harry stopped. With his hands braced on the lip of the counter, he spared himself a glance in the mirror. 

Bloodshot, glistening eyes. Wet, dark hair that lost its curl to the weight of the water. Ruddy cheeks. Swollen lips. He looked a mess. 

But, Harry couldn't remember himself ever looking so relieved. 

He carefully gathered his clothes into his arms, ensuring he didn't dampen his borrowed clothing as he exited the bathroom. (Y/N) was there in an instant, having been waiting just outside the door with a softened smile on her features as she offered to take his clothes, already grabbing for them before he'd even relinquished them. 

It wasn't until she returned from the laundry room, telling him something about the detergent, that Harry realized he was crying. Only because (Y/N) had pointed it out with a short gasp, hands instinctively reaching for him before she bundled them together at her chest. 

"Oh, Harry," she cooed, "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you're going through—" 

"C-Can I hug you?" 

(Y/N) didn't even hesitate before she was gathering him into her arms, Harry's head dropping to her neck with his body pressed flush against hers for no other reason than he hadn't been hugged like this in years. His breathing came in pants against her neck, fanning across her skin while his tears dripped over the curve. (Y/N) settled him as best she could, running a gentle hand over his back while the other swirled through his curls as best she could with their dampened state. 

"'M so relieved," Harry whispered to her when he found his voice, "'M so relieved. Thank you." 

Harry didn't know what he was thanking her for, and he was sure (Y/N) didn't either, but that didn't stop her from holding him tighter.

—————

"Bye, Harry!" 

The delighted shouts that were called through the parking lot at the end of his work day brought a smile to Harry's face. He twisted on his heels, walking backwards for a moment as he waved for all the guys at the mechanic's yard to see. 

"See you all on Monday!" 

Harry couldn't remember ever loving his job the way he loved this one. 

The mechanic was full of some of the nicest people he'd ever met in his life; some grumpy and a bit rambunctious—something he was sure they played up around their quiet accountant, as they called him—but none of them were anything less than welcoming since the day he was brought onto the team. He was excited on the days he worked in office solely because he got to see his friends. There were even nights they went out for drinks or went to a local venue to watch live music, something to relax into the weekend they always told him, and Harry was invited each time. How he worked in an office for almost ten years when this was out there waiting for him, he'd never understand. 

But, Harry didn't like to think about the before years. Thinking about all he missed out on wasn't going to bring back the wasted time, that's what his therapist had told him. 

It had only taken one night at (Y/N)'s and another week and a half at a hotel before Harry had another place lined up—how he was able to manage that, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to say no. It took him one weekend to get his things out of Minerva's house, have her sign the divorce papers he filed the days before, and it was over. His wasted time was up. 

As difficult as Minerva liked to be, when she was done with something, she wiped her hands clean. Just as she did with Harry. She was quick to come to agreements about their assets and belongings, staying true to her word about wanting to take whatever route would be the fastest out of the marriage. 

He didn't mind that she got the house and a sizable chunk of their savings. He could get all of that back, and nothing could compare to the relief and freedom he felt now that he was out of that oppressive house. 

Plus, it was cheaper to go grocery shopping for one. 

(Y/N) had been so encouraging through the first few weeks that Harry was trying to make sense of the new world he had called upon for himself. Never interfering or pushing him to do anything he didn't want to. Everything she told him was about his happiness—putting his happiness first. It was her idea that he reach out to someone to talk to about what happened during his marriage, and how to navigate making his own choices without heavy amounts of doubt pushing him back. 

He hadn't seen her much since the night he crashed at her place, knowing that he needed to spend some time with himself, clear headed and heart in his own hands, before he could be in her distracting presence again. He needed to be the best version of himself first before he could be anyone else's. But, she never backed away from him, always there when he needed her, even if just to talk to someone. 

Harry didn't worry about the dirt on his feet as he opened up the door to his apartment, only shucking off his shoes messily by the threshold. He'd get to them later. 

It'd been three months since he moved in, so the place was a little sparse, but it was perfect in Harry's eyes. He'd never lived by himself before. Everywhere he looked, it was him—his things, his family photos, his memories. He loved his little apartment, no matter if it was a downgrade from a two-story, three bedroom house. This was his first home. 

His clothes were left in the hamper as he changed into a comfy set of clothing. He could do laundry tomorrow, no worries, he reminded himself. He had more important things to do. 

Reaching under his bed, Harry grabbed the final unpacked box he had taken from the attic of the old house. Nothing more was written on the cardboard than Harry's Stuff in Minerva's handwriting. Flipping open the top, he found his university gear (really just a pair of sweatpants he swore got him through exams seasons without any complete failures), a set of messily colored pictures gifted to him from when his niece was only a baby, random items from his childhood, and a leather bound journal. 

The journal was wrapped tightly closed with a matching length of string. The cover was doodled upon with stars and quotes, Harry's name scrawled across the front of the book. It mimicked him, he realized; covered in sketchbook like drawings, but it was all him. 

Inside, he knew there were songs from years ago he probably didn't even remember writing. A smile touched at his features as he untied the string holding the journal together. 

But, before he could flip through the pages again, he knew he had to make a call. 

With his phone to his ear, the ringing echoed in his ears until he heard the telltale click.

"Harry!" (Y/N) happily chirped on the other side, "How are you?

Hearing her voice, he swore it was easier to breathe. "Hi, 'm doing good," he greeted her, voice dreamy and mellow, "Are y'doing anything tonight?"

A beat passed before she spoke again, the smile he could hear in her voice easy to imagine. "I don't think so, why?" 

He promised (Y/N) she would be the first he called when he found his music again. 

"I want to show y'something."

He was happy to wait for her. 

—————

this is....very different for me ngl HUSHFUSHF I had a very different direction I was thinking about when I started this and then completely went off the rails and turned into something sadder than anything else ive written so...thanks for sticking through it I guess shfushfush thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes (and the fact they don't even kiss ???)! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this was a request and it sounded really cute. I used to watch watch F1 races as a kid and thought it'd be such a fun job to have. but then I grew up and realized I hate driving lol

➤ when MC is a professional F1 driver | the demon brothers

2.6k words | sfw | fluff & slice of life shenanigans

cw: developing relationships with the demon brothers; some angst and insecurity if you squint.

related: the dateables + mephisto edition

Lucifer is your main obstacle when you decide you want a shot at racing in this realm. You argue it’s only fair if they expect you to give up your passion and livelihood for an entire year without warning. The world of Devildom racing is dangerous and he doesn’t want (or expect) a human like you to understand that. You try to show him videos of some of your races that you have on your old phone, but he’s still skeptical of your abilities. He takes you to the local track so you can prove what you’re capable of. (His brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos and the students from Purgatory Hall show up to watch as well.) By the end of the first lap, most of them are stunned with disbelief or excited for the possibilities of living with such a talented driver. Lucifer grudgingly concedes that he underestimated you. He arranges a personal vehicle for you to use during your stay in the exchange program. He also speaks to Diavolo about your interest in continuing your racing career. The young prince agrees once he’s confident you understand the risks. 

Lucifer is your advocate and advisor at first, but over time he gradually becomes your friend. He admires your determination to make a name for yourself. He attends each race in person and pretends he’s there on official business, but it’s his own way of supporting your efforts. He’s genuinely proud of you for making such a lasting impact in the Devildom in a short amount of time. He treats you to dinner after each race and it becomes a celebratory ritual you both look forward to. He starts to crave your company when the racing season comes to an end, and he scrambles for new reasons to spend time with you. He starts asking you out for dinner—just the two of you—for no apparent reason at all. He can't explain the profound happiness that blooms in his chest when you eagerly accept.

Mammon thinks this is a fantastic opportunity. At first he assumed you were just some cute human that liked cars. But now it turns out that you actually know how to race, too? The novelty of a human racing against in the Devildom’s most competitive league is sure to draw in a bigger crowd than usual. He never bothered with betting on the races before, but your introduction to the racing league shows him the untapped potential; he can't wait to make a fortune off this! Unfortunately for him, you hear through the grapevine that he bets against you before your first race. You're annoyed and drive more aggressively than usual because of it. You already feel like you have to prove yourself, and you’re already under enough pressure without him counting on you to fail. The race finishes and you rank in the top three—it takes the Devildom sporting world by surprise. Mammon lost a fair bit of money betting against you, but he’s not angry. He admits he underestimated you and it feels like you’ve earned his respect. (He learns from his mistakes and doesn’t bet against you again.)

He’s a lot friendlier after that. He's a good engineer and likes working with his hands. When your loaner car acts up, he offers to help you with it even though you both know you can handle it yourself. He keeps you company and watches you work on it in the garage Lucifer had built. Mammon pretends he's "supervising" your work so he still has a reason to hang around. Sometimes you let him do the work for you because he looks so happy when he does. He makes a show of rolling up his sleeves and flexing his muscles before he pops the hood and leans forward to take a look at things. It's ridiculous how attractive he is when he's sweaty and covered with dirt and engine grease. 

He doesn't let anyone else drive his precious car Demonio 666 Lexura except for you. When you finally agree to his invitation to take you out on a date, he hands you the keys so you can drive it for the first time. It’s nicer and a lot faster than the car Lucifer arranged for you to use. You can tell that Mammon puts a lot of pride and care into the upkeep of his vehicle, and you’re flattered he would trust you with it when no one else has that privilege. Mammon gets a little flustered in the passenger seat because watching you drive in your date night outfit turns him on. He’s tempted to slip his hand into your lap and test how good your concentration is.

Levi doesn’t have any interest in driving outside of video games. He’s shocked at how talented you are as a racer because you’re terrible at Devil Kart. He still invites you to play games with him and it surprises him that you would waste your time with him. He's not sure how to act around you sometimes. It should be easier to interact with you the more he gets to know you. Instead, he grows even more shy and anxious and flustered all at once and he doesn't know why.

The other students at RAD start to admire you and you develop a little bit of a fan following. He gets a little jealous that you seem to bask in all the attention, but you admit to him later that a lot of your public persona is just an act. You’re scared to be yourself in the public eye, and you hate the feeling of being judged for who you are. You show him rare glimpses of the real you that no one else sees, and he realizes he likes you. He wants to be your friend, but he wants to support you too. You don't have to pretend to be someone else when you're with him. He's not a fan of sports, but in his eyes, you slowly become as important as one of his beloved idols.

He hears rumors around RAD that some of the students want to start a fan club for you. It irritates him that he didn’t think of that first, but he sets up a fan site that gets a lot of traction. His username is different from the ones he uses on other sites so it’s harder to trace it back to him. He basically runs the largest Devildom site dedicated to you and your career and its his worst-kept secret. Another fan of yours designs cute logos based off your Devildom racing nickname, and it opens the floodgates to a huge line of fan-made merchandise. Levi orders one of everything, and he knows all of his brothers have bought some that merch too. He squirms in his seat when you mention how sweet the fan club president is. You drop subtle hints that you know it’s him, but he’s too nervous to admit it. One day you ask him out to see a new movie he’s interested in, and all he can do is nod and blush furiously when you call it a date. (He doesn't even realize he's wearing one of your fan club t-shirts until after you leave his room with a bounce in your step.)

Satan didn't have much of an interest in cars or racing before you arrived. Once you break into the Devildom racing scene, he takes it upon himself to learn more about it. (Watching awkwardly from the sidelines while Lucifer his brothers fawn over you has nothing to do with his sudden interest.) He picks up the basics of car maintenance easily enough, but his main focus is the politics behind the racing industry and how the teams function. He wants you to succeed and that means finding a manager that's dedicated and organized and has a keen eye for detail. He observes how the other teams operate and quickly identifies the weak spots in their leadership. He's certain that he can do so much better than them and he’s relieved when you agree to give him a chance. 

You spend a lot of evenings working together. You give him detailed breakdowns about your career in the human world and how things operated. He makes careful notes of the things you liked and didn't like, the people on your team that helped you and the ones you butted heads with. He knows some of his brothers are suitable for roles on your team, and he's extremely critical when he begins filling the other vacant positions. He goes to the track when you practice and you appreciate his company. He takes on most of the behind-the-scenes responsibility for you so you can focus on other things, like not crashing and staying alive. He has zero tolerance for demons that badmouth you when he's in earshot, and it takes all his self-control not to tear them to pieces. Don't they realize how hard you work? Sometimes he gets frustrated when he has to control his temper, but you pat his arm and hug him or kiss his cheek for his efforts. You remind him that you appreciate him sticking up for you like no one else does; the anger inside him deflates and is replaced with something even more potent.

Asmo can’t remember the last time he felt so inspired. Here you are, the most precious little human he’s ever laid eyes on, and you’re a professional racer? He's already planning a new fashion line that’ll capitalize on the hype of your budding career—he knows the trends of the Devildom and anticipates your success before anyone else does. Your first race generates so much excitement that he sets up a corporate Devilgram account for you too. The first wave of fans start following you within minutes of your surprising race debut. Asmo goes to the track and takes pictures of you talking to Satan and the others on your team about devil-knows-what. He manages to snap a particularly fetching photo of you leaning against your car. He knows you were just pointing out something in the car’s flimsy paint job, but it makes you look intriguing and formidable and a bit sexy, too. (You roll your eyes when you see the photo on Devilgram later, but his suggestive caption under the photo about the Devildom’s hottest new ride leaves you feeling flustered the rest of the day.)

Things move very quickly once the rest of the Devildom media catches up to Asmo’s insight into your popularity. All the magazines want to interview you, and even Mephistopheles requests an interview on behalf of the RAD newspaper club. The Devilgram account Asmo runs for you skyrockets in popularity with each photo he posts. Satan offers Asmo a role on your team as your official agent and social marketing strategist. He asks Satan for some other responsibilities too: he arranges your sponsorships and endorsements, and he designs your race attire and car wrap. He’s not sure anyone else in the Devildom can capture your talent or charming good looks the way he can.

You and Asmo have some very long, heated discussions about managing your celebrity status and your personal boundaries. You maintain veto power over any interviews or photo-ops you’re uncomfortable with. You also get final approval on any licensed fashion or merchandise. (The little fan club of yours has superior merch anyway and everyone knows it.) Asmo enjoys the challenge of designing your race suit too, and he’s so proud when he shows it to you. It incorporates comfort, style and function in a way that's flattering without being provocative. There are little symbols embroidered along the sleeve cuffs and he explains what they are when your brow furrows in confusion. “Oh! The thread is imbued with protective magic. The sigils will help protect you in case you get into an accident.” He mistakes the shocked look on your face for disappointment and backtracks quickly. “I promise, it’s not cheating! Demons are more durable so most of them don’t bother using these, but I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt—“ He stumbles a little when you wrap your arms around him and mumble thank-yous into his chest. He kisses the top of your head and hugs you back just as tightly while he murmurs about how special you are.

Both of the twins end up working in the pit as part of your crew.

Beel is an obvious candidate for that physically demanding job because of his speed and strength. He didn’t know much about racing before you came to the Devildom. Your passion and his brothers’ involvement is contagious and he can’t resist getting involved too. He learns about the mechanics of caring for cars and how important the pit stop crew is to your success. He bonds with his family because they're all supporting you in their own ways. Working with his hands helps distract him from his hunger and becomes an unexpected perk of the job. You’re considerate and still make sure he has access to snacks throughout the race if he wants them, though. He can’t be there for all of your races because of scheduling conflicts with his other club obligations, but that’s when he realizes how much he likes spending time with you. He’s flattered that you find time in your busy schedule to go to his games to cheer him on too. You agree to go with him for spontaneous lunch dates when you both have time off. He takes you to new restaurants and watching your reactions to the different types of food the Devildom offers. He worries that you don't eat enough when you're so busy, and he's much happier knowing that you're well-fed.

Belphie works in the pit but his responsibilities are a bit more abstract. He volunteers for that role because his twin is there. All he needs to do is help keep Beel’s hunger-related distractions to a minimum and stay out of the way while the other demons do their jobs. He has a nice little corner where he can watch the race if he wants, but he spends most of the time sleeping. He wakes up when he senses your car is pulling up. Each time you drive away, you wave in his direction like you know he wakes up just to see you for a few brief moments.

He doesn’t like it when your fans recognize you on the street. They ask you for autographs or selfies and it’s annoying. He’s proud of you, but he hates having to compete for your attention. He makes snarky comments about your fan club but he still buys your merch—the t-shirts are soft and nice for sleeping in. He drags you to the bed in the attic for naps because he senses how exhausted you are. He makes sure that you’re not sacrificing relaxation or sleep for the sake of your career. Sometimes you dream, but it's not the nightmares that bother you. You dream about returning to the human world and living a normal life without obligations to your fans and your manager and your sponsorships. You crave a life that's completely your own again. Those dreams disturb you the most because sometimes you wish you could go back to being that person before you started on this path. Belphie listens quietly when you share your feelings in a moment of sleepy vulnerability. He doesn't judge you or laugh at you. He understands why you’d want to give up a lucrative career when it leaves you feeling weary from self-doubt and regret. Maybe one day, sooner rather than later, he can help convince you that it's okay to retire and pursue a different dream instead.

[soul-rillo]

Hello hello! Rillo here.

I just wanted to give a quick little update on a bunch of things.

FANFICTION

I'm still in the midst of my move but most of the hardest stuff has been done and sorted, so now, I'm trying to get back into the swing of things for work, drawing, and fic writing. The next fic to be updated will be Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke (I know, we've been waiting years! It's a good chapter though, so I hope it'll be worth it). I'm not sure when the time-travelling radiostatic fic will be released because I'd like some form of buffer for that—surprise! I don't have a buffer for anything nor have I ever. Whoops! Thought it'd be neat to try out.

ANIMATICS

I have... THREE animatics in the works. All radiostatic. One is a full length song (roughly 3 minutes). I'll post them here as well as youtube when any of them are done but I have a bad habit of starting new animatics right before I finish a different one.

RADIOSTATIC COMIC AU

Yes, you heard right! Soul and I are in early development for a radiostatic AU that will have lots of little comic snippets, some long multi-parters, some short with only an image or two. Either way, we're really excited to eventually share that with you guys here.

That's all I can think to mention right now. Until next time!

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

One Last Lesson

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: okay so there's some switching on both sides but mostly dom!Spence, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is over 21), teasing, pet names, marking a lot, p in v sex, praise/minor body worship, yk I love some dirty talk so- that's there, multiple orgasms, riding, marking- I hope I got everything??

Genre: Just fluff, Just smut

Summary: It's been a year, Spencer is yours, but it seems someone just won't back off at the alumni gala

A/N: I wasn't planning on a Pt. 3 for this yall it was a duology lmao- I saw the demand but I had nowhere to take it; so you can thank @shan-yee because their comment inspired the continuation of this saga :)

***

Spencer walks over to you and places his hands on either side of the counter you're sitting on. You're spending the night at his place and right now he's cooking dinner.

"You know, it's been almost a year now." He says kissing your neck.

"Since what exactly?" You ask him.

"Since you graduated is what I meant, but also since we made it official technically." Spencer squeezes your hand and then grabs a spatula from a drawer and walks back over to the stove.

"Oh yeah, we're a few months off from it I suppose." You hum.

"The alumni gala is this weekend. Do you- plan on going?"

"It's this weekend? Really? I didn't even realize."

"Oh." He says, his back is facing you but you're positive he's leading up to something and that answer didn't give him the lead up he was hoping for.

"Why are you asking?" You smile.

"Well I was thinking that if you were planning to go we could go together. I mean I'll be there regardless but like- it'd be nice to go as a couple. If you wanted to do that." He shrugs.

"Do you want me there Spence?" You ask.

"Of course I do. I always want you by my side."

"Then I'll go. We'll go. As a couple."

"You're sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You frown. Spencer turns around to look at you.

"Well you know, I don't want you to be uncomfortable if people say-"

"I don't give a fuck what anyone might have to say. I like you Spencer, I like being with you. Nobody's random opinion is gonna make me stop feeling that way." You shrug. Spencer's eyes soften, adoration shining in them.

"Okay." He smiles.

"Oh, but when we go we should change the timeline a little." You say.

"What do you mean?"

"Instead of telling them we've been together almost a year, tell them it's only been a couple of months." You shrug.

"So if we've only been together a couple of months what's like- the rest of our story?"

"Well we can say we ran into each other at a bar a few months ago, got talking, and realized we had a lot in common- decided to see where things go and it's been great so far."

"Okay." He nods.

"I know you don't particularly like lying but it's for you. I don't want anyone doubting the ethics of our relationship and calling into question your job. So stick to that story and try not to oversell it with details. The more complex the harder it is to keep things straight."

"Well, what if they ask for details?"

"I can't imagine we'll spend a lot of time apart at the gala so chances are I'll be there to handle that for you but if you find yourself alone and they ask you something you don't want to risk complicating- just tell them 'things are still new and you don't wanna risk jinxing anything' and then find a way to change the subject to literally anything else."

"Things are still new and I don't wanna risk jinxing it- okay sure. You're a- good liar."

"I've thought about it before, in case anyone started asking questions- at least for the next few years. After a while, no one will care but you know, for now. I don't want you to lose your job or anything because of me." You shrug. Spencer walks over to you and tilts your head up to look at him. He kisses you sweetly and quickly.

"That's sweet of you to be that concerned about it but you shouldn't stress too much about my job." Spencer says.

"I know, I know, but I care about you, Spence. Of course, I'll worry about that sort of thing."

"You're so cute." He chuckles, returning to the stove to finish cooking dinner.

"Yeah, I know." You say jokingly, making him laugh harder. A few minutes later, dinner is finished and you move from your spot on the counter to the living room to eat and watch TV with him.

~*~*~

When the day of the gala comes around that weekend, you spend more time getting ready than you usually would. Your dress is a gold floor-length number with no sleeves and a dangerously high slit. You pair it with black lace gloves just because you can and your makeup is killer if you do say so yourself. Not that you have to, Spencer's reaction when he comes to pick you up is more than enough confirmation that you look drop dead.

"Woah." He breathes out, his eyes wide.

"Hello to you too Spence." You chuckle stepping into the hall and locking your apartment door.

"I- hey. You look stunning baby."

"Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself love." You wink at him as you loop your arm through his. He's wearing a black dress shirt with gold detailing which you didn't know he was planning on wearing when you picked your dress but how convenient that you match. You notice he's forgone a tie and left the top couple of buttons undone and part of you wants to skip the gala altogether, but you got all pretty so to the gala you will go.

By the time you arrive, it seems the event is already in full swing, the hall is full of familiar and unfamiliar faces between faculty, alumni, and current students- who apparently are welcome and encouraged to attend these things. In fact, you're barely there for 10 minutes before some of your former classmates get a hold of you and drag you away from Spencer. So much for being together most of the night. It's fine, you remind yourself, he's a big boy, plus he's got his script. You focus on the conversation you're part of, a few guys and girls from your department are playing catch up, everyone sharing the most important news from their lives post graduation. 

You find yourself in several more of those kinds of conversations with various groups of people over the next hour or so. Side effect of being half part of so many social groups during college you suppose. Every once in a while you steal glances at Spencer, who mostly seems to be enjoying himself with his colleagues. You know Spencer was expecting this night to be a sort of debut for your relationship at his job so you wanted to be with him most of the night but maybe this is fine, him with his people and you catching up with friendly acquaintances you haven't seen in a while.

Just as you're settling with that idea you catch Professor Greene beelining towards Spencer and you can't help the internal eye roll when she walks up to him with a megawatt smile. You split your attention between the conversation you're currently part of and Spencer's interaction with Professor Greene. With things official between you and Spencer, you're much less worried about her honestly but you watch Spencer for signs of discomfort so you can rescue him if needed. You haven't heard much of her from Spencer since your little stunt last year with the hickeys so you're surprised to see her so friendly with Spencer. When you catch her place a hand on Spencer's arm and he awkwardly breaks the contact you decide to step in.

"I am- so sorry to cut this conversation short, I just- it looks like I need to rescue my date from a conversation he absolutely does not want to be part of but I will find you again to finish this before the night ends okay?" You tell Jordan, a friend of yours who you had classes with literally every semester of university.

"Girl don't even worry about it go save your man." He chuckles waving you off.

"Thank you babes, if I don't catch you again tonight, I'll just text you." You rush out before making your way over to Spencer and Professor Greene. You keep your pace light so as to not look vexed but you reach them rather quickly.

"Spencer! There you are! I've been looking for you." You smile, placing your hands on his arm gently. He relaxes with you at his side, matching your smile with one of his own. You turn to Professor Greene, still tucked against Spencer's side. "You're Professor Greene, right? I'm y/n." You stick an arm out to shake her hand and she takes it albeit a little hesitantly.

"Have we met before?" She asks with a curious frown.

"Not formally." You smile.

"I'm- gonna grab a drink. Y/n, do you want anything?" Spencer asks.

"I'll have a mojito if they can make one. If not then I'll just grab champagne from one of the trays floating around the room." You tell him.

"Professor Greene? Would you- like anything?"

"No thanks, Spencer." She says with a tight smile.

"Okay well you two wait here, I'll be back in a sec." He says jogging off. You can't help but smile as you watch him go.

"He's so sweet." You say before you can stop yourself.

"Oh that's cute." Professor Greene says.

"Sorry?" You turn to her.

"Are you one of Spencer's students?"

"No, I've graduated. Almost a year ago now. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just- perhaps I'm assuming but it seems like you have a bit of a crush on him." She says and you can't help the surprised chuckle you let out.

"Excuse me?" You ask with a smile.

"I'm not judging or anything. It's cute and totally not unusual! That's why I asked if you were one of his students, I mean- not that anything would come of it but having a crush on your professor and all is pretty common despite the- taboo around it. I one hundred percent get it." She explains.

"Oh, do you? You get it? See- the thing I get is that you have a bit of a crush on that professor but I'm fucking that professor so I'm not sure you one hundred percent get it seeing as we are not in the same boat." You say, your tone deceptively cheery.

"Excuse me?" She blinks at you incredulously.

"I'm not daft Professor Greene and neither is Spencer- it's quite obvious you fancy him which is totally not unusual and not that anything would come of it but I one hundred percent get it. See you don't need to placate to me because I'm the person he came here with. I'm the person he'll be leaving with." You say. Professor Greene's eyes narrow for a moment before widening.

"Wait no you have definitely been a student of his, I remember you. A plucky thing- sat in the front row."

"Surprised I left an impression." You cross your arms.

"Spencer always seemed particularly concerned with you."

"I was his best student." You shrug.

"Oh I'm sure you were. Extra credit will do that." She scoffs.

"I didn't need to suck his dick to be the best in his class I'm just that good. We only started seeing each other a couple of months ago not that it'd really make a difference he still wasn't interested in you at any point. You'd think by now you'd get the hint." You say and she levels you with another glare.

"Did you know they make flavored mojitos? The guy at the bar asked me what flavor you wanted. You didn't mention a flavor but I know you like passionfruit so I hope that's okay." Spencer's arrival doesn't break the tension between you and Professor Greene but you shoot him a sweet smile as you take the drink from him.

"Passionfruit's perfect baby, thank you." You tell him. "I was just telling Professor Greene here about how we got together."

"Yeah, Spencer, I didn't know you had a girlfriend!" Professor Greene says with a smile that's too wide to be genuine.

"Oh! Well, yeah things are still pretty new, I haven't made it a point to go around announcing it. Plus it's not like we're close or anything." Spencer shrugs and puts an arm around you casually, pulling you closer to him.

"Well yeah I know I know it's just- well that's kind of a big deal, isn't it? A girlfriend. You've got a bit of a bachelor reputation you know." She says and you let out a sharp disbelieving laugh.

"Do I? That's news to me." Spencer looks at you with a chuckle.

"Oh you know what I mean Spence."

"Not really but I guess it doesn't matter. I'm pretty private about these things, even though I'm obsessed with her."

"Aw you're so cute." You gush with a hand on his chest.

"Well you do make quite an interesting pair. If you'll excuse me, I see Darla and I've been trying to track her down all night so I'll leave you to each other." Professor Greene dismisses herself and rushes off to start another conversation elsewhere.

"'I didn't need to suck his dick to the best in his class'? Are you insane?" Spencer turns to face you with an incredulous smile on his face.

"To be fair it didn't start there!" You say.

"Oh yeah? Give me the breakdown."

"You left and she made a snide comment about me having a crush on my professor that 'wouldn't go anywhere', I got a little snippy with her and then she implied the only reason I was one of your favorite students is because you were screwing me but like I'm smart I don't need to fuck you for an A I already had one before you even touched me so- I was basically just telling her that."

"When you say a little snippy-"

"I honestly don't think you want to know." You shake your head.

"What did you say to her?"

"TLDR, I told her she has a crush on you and I am fucking you so we're not really in the same boat which was- probably escalating but she started it by trying to patronize me." You shrug and Spencer sighs though you can see his shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"You are-" he stops to laugh again. "Incredible."

"Thank you baby." You smile.

"Honestly that was very uncomfortable but I will admit there was something... captivating about that battle of wits you had going on." His head dips to press a kiss to your neck.

"Captivating huh." You hum.

"Yeah, you're hot when you get all territorial." He smiles down at you.

"You're saying that now because this time I didn't take it out on you." You chuckle.

"I mean, I certainly wouldn't have been against walking in tonight covered in hickeys like last time." He mutters.

"Naughty boy. Keep that up and we'll have to leave early you know." You muse.

"I mean I've spoken to everyone here I need to talk to." Spencer's hand slides down over your ass for a moment.

"So worked up so quickly."

"Come on princess, let's get out of here. I owe you one hell of a thank you for dealing with Professor Greene." Spencer mutters in your ear trying to sway you.

"If we're going to leave early, you'd better make it worthwhile professor." You tell him pulling him through the party towards the exit. He stops you just outside the hall to pull you into a kiss.

"Don't I always?" He winks at you and takes the lead then, walking you to his car and helping you into the passenger side. Once he pulls out of the parking lot, you put a hand dangerously high on his leg, rubbing up and down his thigh 'absentmindedly', watching the way his fingers grip the steering wheel tighter with each passing moment. At red lights, you lean over to kiss and nip at different spots on his neck, you didn't mark him up before going out but there's no reason you can't do it now. By the time you're back at Spencer's apartment, you can tell your teasing did exactly what you wanted when he rushes you through the lobby and into the elevator. He hardly lets the elevator doors close before he corners you against one of the walls. Spencer kisses you, rough and hot, his hands gripping your upper arms.

"You'll be the death of me one of these days." He breathes out. The elevator doors open then and you drag your fingertips up his thigh with a dangerous smirk before getting off. You can hear him let out a harsh breath before he follows you to the door. Spencer unlocks the door and lets you in, barely shutting the door before he pulls you against him in another searing kiss. One of your hands tangles in Spencer's hair tugging lightly which he rewards with a grunt and a nip at your lip. Eventually, you pull away from him, grabbing his chin a bit to tilt his head out of the way of his neck.

"Hm- they're not great but- by the end of the night I'll mark you up so well it'll be like a signed my name on you." You hum kissing him again.

"Whatever you want princess. Tonight's about thanking you, any particular way you want me to show my gratitude? Because personally, I'd like to peel this dress off of you and bury my tongue between your folds." Spencer mutters, trailing soft kisses across your neck and shoulders.

"That- that sounds like a great way to start." You say.

"Perfect." Spencer pulls you down the hall into his bedroom. His hands drag down your arms, pushing the sleeves off and subsequently dropping your dress to the ground. He lets one hand grab onto yours to help you step out of the dress and immediately drops to his knees in front of you. Spencer pulls one of your legs onto his shoulders, grips the back of your thighs tightly, and buries his head between them. You jolt forward as his tongue swipes through your folds, catching your clit and you tangle your fingers in his hair to steady yourself.

"Oh god." You gasp as Spencer pushes his tongue inside you, thrusting in and out, caressing your walls all while moaning at the taste of you and the feeling of you pulling his hair. Spencer can feel your legs start to shake and tightens his hold on your thighs when he drags his tongue up to focus on your clit. "Fuck!" You squeak, actually squeak, when Spencer flicks at the bundle of nerves with practiced precision that has you trembling in his hands. 

"Spence." You moan his name in warning, your orgasm building quickly. He increases the pressure slightly, just enough to push you over the edge with a cry, your fingers tightening in his hair, holding him against you as you ride out your orgasm against his mouth. As the aftershocks of your release ease, Spencer eagerly laps up the juices flowing from you, his nose brushing your clit with each draw of his tongue. You gasp when Spencer hooks his arm under your leg still draped over his shoulder and presses his hand at the small of your back as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly on the little button. You jerk against his ministrations but his hold is steady- even as he releases your other leg to bury two fingers between your walls. He pumps the digits quickly and you can feel another orgasm building.

"Holy- shit that feels good." You whimper and you feel Spencer smile around your clit for a moment before he continues to suck on it feverishly. Spencer pulls your second orgasm from you so quickly that you don't even realize how close it is until you're screaming from the force of it. Spencer works you through it, his fingers slowing but not stopping until your walls ease up against them. He gazes up at you as he licks his fingers clean before kissing just below your belly button. He kisses his way up your body, hands trailing over your skin until he's at his full height.

"One hell of a thank you baby." You say breathlessly. Spencer laughs and leans down to kiss you, cupping your face with his clean hand. You use the time to pull his shirt free and undo the buttons, then focus on his pants, tugging off the belt and shoving the slacks down his legs. You let Spencer walk you back towards the bed and lay back when your legs hit the edge of it. You watch as Spencer finishes undressing himself and crawls over you.

"I'm not done thanking you yet princess." Spencer says kissing your neck. He lines himself up with your entrance and sinks in with one thrust. He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wet heat engulfing him. "If I believed in heaven this would be it." He breathes out and you giggle a bit. That is until Spencer cocks his hips back and rocks them into you pulling a moan from your lips effectively ending your giggle fit. Spencer sets a dangerous rhythm of sharp, deep thrusts that have your back arching off the bed.

"So good- Spence, feel so good inside me baby." You moan, your nails marking angry red lines down his back as he takes you.

"I know princess- fuck I know." He grunts reveling in the sting of your fingers clawing at him. Spencer can feel his balls tightening as you drip down his shaft and he leans back to toy with your swollen clit. The sudden extra stimulation has whines and mewls falling freely from you as your third orgasm rushes you. The feel of your walls spasming around him sends Spencer into a frenzy, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. Your mind clears just in time to catch the signs of his impending orgasm and you muster enough strength to flip Spencer onto his back. He blinks at you in shock but only for a moment as you start riding him and his face scrunches up in pleasure. Spencer throws his head back and you lean forward to darken the hickeys you left earlier and add more as promised. He lets out a string of curses and grips the sheets so tightly you think he might tear them as you bounce up and down his length. When you feel his muscles clench beneath your hands you sit up, examining the marks now covering his neck. You're more than satisfied with them. You thread your fingers into Spencer's hair and tug, forcing him to look at you.

"I wanna watch your face when I make you cum Spence. Don't look away." You tell him sharply. Spencer tries to nod but your hand in his hair stops him.

"O-Okay. F-fuck, whatever you want- please just let me cum." He begs.

"Go ahead baby." You tell him and that's all it takes for him to let go, hot ropes painting your inner walls.

"I was supposed to be expressing gratitude here." Spencer says after a few moments of silence, when his breathing is settled.

"I feel plenty thanked don't worry love. It's way more fun having you beg me to cum anyway." You say turning your head where you lay just enough to kiss his chest. Spencer lets out a small disbelieving chuckle and you can feel him shake his head as his hand strokes down your back.

"I love you." He says.

"I love you too." You say with a smile. How lucky you are, to have your crush work out so perfectly. Although if you ask Spencer who the lucky one is he'll surely say it's him. Luck is the only explanation for him to now have the object of his desires for months in his arms like this every night. Thank goodness you called him out that day in his office, or he'd have never gotten this far.

***

Part 2

Tagged Users: @regulus-black-223048, @perkypink19-blog, @p0ssywhippedcream

[daniigh0ul]

simblr story recommendations pt 1/?

hi i have been reading a ton of stories in this community for the past several months and i thought it'd be fun to recommend some of them to you all! these are sorted by genre with a small blurb for each! i also included if the story is still being updated or if it's a finished story! :) i didn't include content warnings because most, if not all, have warnings listed on their pages, ty! this post is long but i didnt want to put anything under a read more cut so !!

fantasy/supernatural

@madebysimblr the princess and me status: complete

cordy steele is in college and not taking it very seriously when raina comes into her life. while they may not get along at first, it is a pleasure and a joy to watch their friendship form and grow with them. this story made cordy my favorite from coffee's SIMnematic universe, and i hope she will become yours, too. :D

crime/mafia

@earthmoonz wifey status: ongoing do you want to read about a queer relationship forming while both deal with their grief with the backdrop of crime in london??? then read this!! it is so cinematic and well-done!!! i am rooting for max and lena til the end

royalty, baby

@nexility-sims 1992 status: ongoing

follow leonor as she navigates grief in the public eye--this is a prequel/spin-off of n's main story, which is also very good, and reading both gives you extra context and i fully believe 1992 is worth the read for the cinematic nature of it as well as the wonderful prose. if you support women's wrongs, i highly recommend you read this.

@armoricaroyalty the house of st. fleur status: ongoing

do you want to watch a family push each other's buttons while navigating royal life? do you want to support women's wrongs and become apart of the Worst Man's hate club? then this story is for you!

@bridgeportbritt simdonia status: ongoing

follow along as bria wu marries into royalty life and all of the ins-and-outs of that new life as she navigates her family life, her relationship with her new husband, and as her kids grow up and navigate their own relationships and lives. the drama is so good and it's such a blast to read!

slice of life/legacy

@lynzishell star sign legacy status: ongoing the story starts with phoenix as a teenager, and follows him into his adulthood--we follow along as he navigates love, loss, anger issues, and a little bit of trauma go a long way, but what i really love is how the relationships form over time, whether they be romantic or platonic and now i am too invested in phoenix and the people in his life!! and i hope you will be, too! @elderwisp tessellate status: ongoing this ensemble cast are navigating their twenties and their relationships, but secrets and tensions lie underneath--will anyone get what they want? girl i don't know but it's fun to watch everything unfold and it's beautifully edited so 10/10 do recommend @honeyjars-sims safe harbor status: ongoing do you want to follow along as three siblings navigate their young adult years while dealing with trauma and the complicated experience that is navigating your early adulthood? then read this !! there are drag queens, a nightmare, and love--romantic and familial and platonic--and i guarantee you will become invested in these's characters' lives. @hannahssimblr lucky girl status: complete

evie is probably the most relatable girl you'll ever read about. she's insecure, she's in love with a boy, some of her friends suck, others don't. as we follow her through her young adult years, we watch her navigate her love of a boy, her naivety and later, her wisdom, as she grows up. and will she get the boy in the end?? you'll have to read it to find out !! @sirianasims the duchelli legacy status: ongoing i think my favorite part of siri's storytelling is reading about her sims navigate their family relationships--usually in the form of a parent getting their act together for their kid(s)!! but there's also space travel, romance, friendships, and general chaos and it's such a fun read so i highly recommend it!!

[racheldrawsthis]

i was kind of wondering how the studio's process is with the current unreleased games, especially since the most recent announcement. Don't get me wing I am stupid excited at the prospect of a new game, the characters and especially the protagonist lol adorable and I'm scared for whatever horrors they will face.

Anyway back to my main query, I admittedly am somewhat new to the fanbase having joined the discord server in February.

I do remember a tweet where you said that the unreleased games will ask be released within the next to years, but with multiple games coming out of game jams like RiP, MiR et cetera will there be any progress with the unreleased games?

Now I know y'all aren't full time game devs and I don't want to sound dissatisfied or anything :sob: I mean this in a purely curious and maybe a little concerned way. Concerned in the sense that the studio is starting another new project to be released by the end of the month even though Married in Red was released not too long ago, but that I'm complaining

Anyway I am only curious and not trying to sound pushy so I deeply apologise if I came off that way

Good luck on all of your future endeavors!!

Hello! The unreleased games are being worked on behind the scenes, the contents just aren't being posted to the public yet (Some have been posted for those who are subscribed to the studio's Ko-fi membership though)! The currently released/announced games are only coming out fast because they are games specifically intended to be made in just a single month for month-long game jams and we thought they'd be nice opportunities for the studio to gain more experience in game development and attention from the public before fully taking on big unreleased projects as they are all definitely longer and more elaborate than what we've worked on so far as well as give those who are looking forward to big project releases something to play as they wait.

Thank you for your concern! But I do want to remind you that we aren't full-time game developers and all the games we've been developing have been shared for free out of passion, so I believe it'd be good for our interest and motivation if we get to decide which projects we want to work on next- But we do plan to release every listed unreleased project in the upcoming years so don't worry! Game development just takes time.

[mrsshabana]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐲𝐦 ‧₊˚⋆

꒦꒷‧₊ Content MDNI 18+, Some fluff but Gyutaro is a pervert ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1k words. I wrote this over a year ago and completely forgot about it. I thought it'd be fitting for the new year so I decided today would be a good day to post it. Hope you all enjoy it!

Gyutaro hates working out and he hates going to the gym. But his sister bought him a subscription and some sessions with a personal trainer for Christmas. Since he's always complaining about how skinny he is and how much he hates his body, she thought this would be a good gift. It was a sweet gesture, but he would prefer to just work out from home.

Even though he despises working out, he has been making noticeable progress. Especially with his arms and chest. His personal trainer, Kyojuro, is very good at his job, albeit a little annoying. He's far too positive and his bright yellow hair gives Gyutaro a headache. Kyojuro helped Gyutaro figure out how he can gain some weight in his problem area, being his waist. So even after Gyutaro's sessions with Kyojuro ended, he still continues to come to the gym to work on his core.

He's made little improvement with his waist though. It seems like every time he does a workout, all of the gains go straight to his upper body. But as his new year's resolution, he vowed to keep coming to the gym and try his best to make some progress.

And that's why Gyutaro is here right now. Working on his core in an almost empty gym at 11:24 pm.

Gyutaro prefers to come late at night since there aren't very many people here. But that isn't the only reason he likes coming about this time. The cute girl with the nice ass always comes at this time too.

God, does Gyutaro love watching you do squats in your leggings. It's become the highlight of his day. Fantasizing about ripping apart your leggings, bending you over the counter in the locker room and holding onto your ponytail as he fucks you from behind.

He has to pull his hoodie down to hide the tent forming in the front of his pants.

On days where Gyutaro is especially horny and can't wait till he gets home, he'll go in the locker room and fuck his fist until he's spraying cum all over the shower wall.

He just can't help it. You're the cutest girl he's seen since he started coming here. He wishes he had the courage to ask you for your number, but he's far too shy for that. You're probably used to meeting guys with perfectly sculpted bodies here. There's no way he could compete with them with his emaciated frame...

So he'll just have to settle with watching you from afar. When you start your stretches, he can't help but stare. Your back is facing him so he has the perfect view to observe without you noticing.

But you do notice. You noticed him a long time ago.

You aren't stupid. You've been in plenty situations where guys have stared at you during your workouts. You can just feel their gaze. Which is part of the reason why you decided to start coming at night. Having all of those eyes on you makes you feel uncomfortable.

So yes, you have noticed the guy who seems to exclusively use the ab workout machines. Every time you start your workout you can feel his gaze. But you don't mind. Because not only does he mind his own business, watching silently, but you also think he's cute.

The birthmarks on his face are beautiful, along with those cold blue eyes. Not only does he have a handsome face, but his upper body looks pretty shredded.

Once done with your stretches, you turn around for a split second. Making eye contact with your silent admirer.

His eyes widen and he quickly turns away. Blushing profusely, he tries to continue his workout as if nothing happened.

Shit, she saw me staring... he thinks to himself. He feels like he's going to pass out when he sees you approaching him from the corner of his eye. Fuck, fuck, fuck! She's coming over here to cuss me out for being a pervert. Goddammit that's what I get...

"Excuse me?" you politely tap his shoulder.

Gyutaro hesitantly stops his workout, "Huh?"

"I see you around here often. We always come at the same time so, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be gym buddies?" you say with a sweet smile.

"Wh-what?" Gyutaro looks you up and down, unable to believe that you are actually speaking to him, "You want to be gym buddies? With me?"

You nod, "I'm just more motivated to come if I have someone to hold me accountable, you know? It's not easy finding someone who wants to go to the gym at such a late time." You laugh nervously, trying not to make this so awkward.

Gyutaro can't believe that you're actually being serious right now. A part of him wants to believe that you are playing a cruel joke on him. But even if you are, he's willing to take that risk. He's never been so lucky to have a girl approach him so he's going to take this opportunity.

"S-sure," he shrugs, "I'm Gyutaro by the way."

"Nice to meet you Gyutaro, I'm Y/N," you pull out your phone and hand it to him, "Can I get your number?"

He nods, and types his number into your phone. Too shocked to say anything.

"Thanks," you say as he hands your phone back, "I'll text you and maybe we can come again later this week."

"Yeah, I'd like that..." he says shyly.

[chemicallywrit]

Iiiiiiit’s Audio Drama Sunday! And I’m sick but I’m still writing this post because this week in audio drama absolutely slaps. Beware of some light spoilers ahead, let’s GO

🔥 oh man, @camlannpod landed this season finale beautifully. I’m so glad our crew triumphed and that the world is fuller than any of them thought and that the story can go on and change. I have to relisten, this is such a good show. If you haven’t listened to Camlann yet, now is the perfect time, go LISTEN.

🐷 @hellofromthehallowoods is dark but it only occasionally truly scares me. This episode, I was scared. WHAT is Shanks and WHAT is up with that freakin puppet and WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO? I feel the weight of these stories tangibly and I worry, just like our eyes in the skies, for the fate of the people I care about.

👽 One of the strengths of Among the Stars and Bones is its ability to put extremely normal people in absolutely harrowing situations, and in this episode, when it's your second harrowing situation in less than half a year, what are our heroes going to do but be like "Well Sure, This Might As Well Happen." Contrast that with the reactions of Captain Francis and Johann (played with deftness and skill by Oliver Smith and Jerron Bacat), who are experiencing the horrors for the first time and Not Doing Well and that's horror babe. I'm especially interested in Johann, what a fascinating character.

🙃 I started @worldgonewrongpod this week and it is everything I like. It's a) a fictional advice show in b) extraordinary circumstances that's c) very funny and sweet and d) hits like a brick in a sock. If that tweet by John Rogers ("every day i remember with gritted teeth that people lived perfectly fulfilling lives in during the fall of the roman empire," if I may paraphrase) was a show, it'd be this show. I love it.

✨ Call me Rion, because I'm here to take on things that aren't my responsibility and ask you to pLEASE support season two of @storiesfromylelmore. In maybe the cutest crowdfunding announcement I've ever heard, ItMe has called for our help and I don't have any freakin money, but if you do, you should consider giving it to Stories from Ylelmore!

🧛🏻‍♂️ In Hannah News, to borrow a phrase from fellow producer, friend, and all-around badass Tal, it's so much fun to listen to Re: Dracula without having to make it. I'm having a great time now that Drac is back. Won't you join us? Inn Between is also about to hit all our early access folks with a gut punch, get ready.

Hey! Certain entities that owe me money are not paying me in any kind of time, but nevertheless I have to pay bills. It's rude how the bills do not take that into account. In any case, if you like what I make or enjoyed this post, consider leaving me a tip!